Old Bailey Proceedings, 25th April 1898.
Reference Number: t18980425
Reference Number: f18980425


Sessions Paper.








Short-hand Writers to the Court,










Law Booksellers and Publishers.



On the Queen's Commission of



The City Of London,





Held on Monday, April 25th, 1898, and following days,

BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. HORATIO DAVID DAVIES, M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir ARTHUR MOSELEY CHANNELL , Knt., one of the Justices of the High Courts; and The Hon. Sir WALTER GEORGE FRANK PHILLIMORE , Bart, one other of Her Majesty's Justices of the High Court; Sir REGINALD HANSON , Bart., M.P., and Sir STEWART KNILL , Bart., Aldermen of the said City; Sir CHARLES HALL , K. C. M. G., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; Sir JOHN VOCE MOORE , Knt., FRANK GREEN , Esq., Sir JOSEPH COCKFIELD DIMSDALE, Knt., MARCUS SAMUEL , Esq., JAMES THOMPSON RITCHIE , Esq., JOHN POUND , Esq., WILLIAM PURDIE TRELOAR , Esq., JOHN CHAREES BELL , Esq., FREDERICK PRATT ALLISTON , Esq., and WILLIAM SMALLMAN , Esq., JOHN KNILL , Esq., and THOMAS VEZEY STRONG , Esq., other Aldermen of the said City; and Sir FORREST FULTON , Knt., Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery, holden for the said City., and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.

FRANK GREEN , Esq., Alderman.








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


OLD COURT.—Monday, April 25th, 1898.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18980425-294

294. HARRIS WEINBERG (33) was indicted for feloniously marrying Emma Thomas, his wife being then living.

MR. BODKIN, for the prosecution, offered no evidence, there being a doubt as to the legality of the first marriage.


Reference Number: t18980425-295

295. WILLIAM MOORE (72) PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining £1,848 and other sums by false pretences.**— Three Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18980425-296

296. EDWARD JOHNSON (56) , to unlawfully obtaining various small sums by false pretences from various persons.— Six Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-297

297. JOHN HENRY WILLIAMS (), to feloniously uttering a cheque for £2 5s.; also another for £5; also to obtaining money by false pretences and false cheques.— Judgment Respited. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-298

298. HENRY BROWN (46) , to feloniously forging and uttering false cheques, and obtaining money to the amount of £450; also to a previous conviction.— Four Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-6

(And 299.) ERNEST HOLDEN (19) , to committing gross indecency with a male person.— Judgment Respited. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-300

300. JAMES SMITH (23) and CHARLES ALLEN (21) , Robbery with violence on Henry Drury, and stealing from him a watch and chain, value 10s.

HENRY DRURY . I live at 145, Albany Street, Pimlico, and am a plumber—on April 15th I went out of my house at 8.45, and crossed the road—when I had gone about thirty yards I was kicked in the ankle by Smith, and my watch chain was snatched—I ran after him and caught him by the throat—we had a tussle, and fell into the gutter—Allen came up and kicked me in the cheek-bone—I got him down and held him for three or four minutes, but they overpowered me, and Allen got away—I had hold of his left ear—I was kicked in the back—I suffered a considerable amount of pain—I feel the result of it now—I was first kicked by Smith—I then ran after him and seized him—I said, "You have stolen

my watch and chain"—we had a tussle, and we fell down—Smith kicked me before the other man came up—we were both on the ground—while I was on the ground Allen came up, and took my watch, the chain broke—they both kicked me more than once—we struggled for three or four minutes, and then my son came round the corner—this is part of the chain (produced,) which was taken from me.

Cross-examined by Smith. You did not speak to me when I came up with you—when you kicked me I caught hold of your throat—we were rolling over each other.

Cross-examined by Allen. You kicked me under the eye.

FREDERICK DRURY . I am the son of the last witness, and live with him—I am a plumber—on April 15th I heard cries of "Stop thief"—I went out and saw three men on the ground—they were my father and the two prisoners—I did not lose sight of them—I gave one of them into custody—I think it was Smith—I am sure it was that man—I handed him over to a policeman, who said, "What is the matter?" and I said, "I give this man into custody for violently assaulting my father"—Allen got away, and the crowd pursued him—I had never seen him before—I saw them both in custody, and have no doubt about either of them—I found a piece of the watch chain in the gutter near the spot where the struggle took place.

Cross-examined by Smith. You did not struggle with me—I gave you to the constable, and then went away.

By the COURT. While I had got Smith a man named Wyn came up.

ROBERT HENRY WYN . I am a master mariner, and live at Camberillusedell—I was at the prosecutor's house on the night of April 15th—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and looked through the blind, and rushed out—I saw three men on the ground struggling—I saw that Mr. Drury's son had hold of Smith, and I helped him—he said, "He has assaulted and robbed my father"—Smith did not say anything, but he was very violent, and kicked and struggled—two other men held Allen—they were never lost sight of.

Cross-examined by Smith. You kicked me—we were struggling—you kicked me in the eye—there is a scar there now.

ALBERT HENRY PRICE . I am a scavenger, and live at 111, Lupas Street—on this night I was in Lupas Street, and heard cries of "Stop thief!"—I went to Albany Street, and as I ran through Charles Street I saw three men on the ground—just as I got up to them the two prisoners broke away—I gave chase after Allen, and caught him—I held him till a policeman came up—Allen said to me, "This is all right, ain't it? I have been running after a man who stole a man's watch and chain, and he then kicked me two or three times—he was overpowered—I did not lose sight of Allen from the time that I saw them struggling till I gave him in charge—I caught him and said, "I have got you now"—I dug my fingers into his throat, and I held him and he had no power to get away at all.

Cross-examined by Allen. I saw you when you broke away, and I gave chase—I was not far away—I only ran after you for about thirty yards.

JOHN CAMP (79 B). At about a quarter to nine on the night of April 15th I heard cries of "Stop thief"—I went to Albany Street, and saw

Smith struggling with the prosecutor and Mr. Wyn—I asked Mr. Drury's son what had happened—Smith heard—he said, "He has assaulted my either and robbed him"—I took him into custody; he was very violent—he said, "I would not let you, or 40 like you take me to the station"—I got assistance—at the station he said he had no home—he made no reply to the charge—he gave the name of Smith, nothing more.

Cross-examined by Smith. When I came up and got hold of you there were not a lot of men on top of you—you were on your feet; you were very violent.

THOMAS CRANSTON (69 B.) About a quarter to nine on April 15th I went to Albany Street in consequence of cries I had heard—I saw Allen there—when I took him in custody he said, "This is all right; I heard the cries of 'Stop thief!' and ran after the man as I thought, and this is what I have got"—I asked him his address, and he refused it—he said his name was Allen—the charge was read over to him, and he made no reply.

Cross-examined by Allen. You said you were travelling—you did not say what your occupation was, and that you had no home.

Smith's statement before the Magistrate: "On this night I was in Pimlico looking for a friend who promised me work, and as I crossed the road the prosecutor came up and said I had stolen his chain. I said he had made a mistake. He laid hold of my handkerchief, and would not let go, and I struck him in the face with my hand, and someone kicked me on the side of my leg. I could not kick him in the face: I had my hand round his neck. I got up to walk away, when another man came and caught hold of me Then three or four men got hold of me, and started knocking me about, and I started again. When the policeman came up I went with him, when somebody started hitting me, and they expected me to go quietly."

Smith, in his defence, said: I have nothing to say. I am not guilty. I told the roan he had made a mistake. I struck him, and they would not let me go.

Allen, in his defence, said: On the night of this affair I was walking round Pimlico, when I heard cries of "Stop thief!" and I ran, with about a dozen more, and after I had run about a hundred yards two men caught hold of me, and nearly choked me. I said, "What is this for? Why don't you let me go?" I did not see the struggling on the ground, and they must have taken me for somebody else. I am quite innocent. I own I kicked the man. I do not know anything about the chain, I have been travelling the country.


ALLEN— GUILTY . There were numerous other convictions against both the prisoners.

SMITH.— Fifteen Months and Twenty Strokes.

ALLEN— Six Months and Twenty Strokes.

NEW COURT.—Monday, April 25th, 1898

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-301

301. JAMES BENN (23) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin twice within ten days.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

GEORGE REED . I live at 18, Gloucester Crescent, Camden Town, and keep a coffee-stall in the Borough Road—on April 14th I was at my stall, and the prisoner asked for a pennyworth of cake, and gave me 1s—it felt very greasy, and I said, "Where did you get this from?"—he said, "A man over the way gave it to me"—I said, "You won't have it again," and took my whistle, gave it a blow, and he walked away—about 11.30 he came back with a companion for a cup of coffee—I sent my son to the station opposite, and gave the coin to the inspector, having kept it separate—he was not charged.

SAMUEL PARR (Policeman). I was called from the Police-station opposite the prosecutor's stall—the prisoner was pointed out to me walking away—I took hold of him and told him Mr. Reed said that he had uttered a counterfeit 1s. and he would have to go to the station—he made no answer to the charge, and was discharged.

ADA JESSIE SPALL . I keep a general shop at 21a, Denton Street—on April 24th, between 9 and 10.30, the prisoner came in for two-penny packets of cigarettes, and gave me a half-crown—I gave him 2s. 4d. change, and placed the coin on the mantelpiece—he left, and my brother and I examined the coin, and found it bad—I was taken to the station the same evening, saw the prisoner by himself, and recognised him as the man—these are some of the cigarettes.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I am sure of you.

ELIZABETH SKELTON . I live at 147, Hackney Road, where my brother keeps an eel-pie-shop—on April 14th, between 9.30 and ten, the prisoner came in for two eel-pies, which came to 2d.—he tendered a half crown—I tried it with my teeth, and it was gritty—I gave it back to him, and told him it was bad—he took it up and went out, leaving the pies—I have not seen it since—I saw him next day in the dock at the Police-court, and recognised him.

Cross-examined. I have made no mistake; you were brought back by three constables, and you said that you were not in the shop.

JOHN THOMAS PAYNE . I am an omnibus driver, of Titchfield Street, next door to Spall's shop—I came home at nine o'clock, and saw my wife standing at the door, and, in consequence of what she said, I saw the prisoner and two other men standing opposite my door—the prisoner came out and ran round the corner—they went into two or three shops—he went into a pie-shop, and came out and put his hand in his pocket—I went into the shop, and then followed him—I saw three constables going on duty, and gave him in custody, without losing sight of him, and he was taken back to the shop.

Cross-examined. You went into two other shops—the eel pie-shop and the tobacconist's are a quarter of a mile apart.

CHARLES SEAGER (Policeman) On the night of April 14th Mr. Payne spoke to me in Harley Street, Hackney Road, and I told the prisoner that he was accused of passing counterfeit coin at various places—he said, "No, nothing of the kind"—I said, "Have you any counterfeit coin?"—he said, "No; search me"—I found on him three florins, 1s. and two sixpences, but no bad money—I took him to the eel-pie shop, and Skelton identified him at once—he denied being in the shop at all, but afterwards

he said that, if he had done it, he had done it unintentionally—I found on him two packets of cigarettes and a packet of "Gold Flake."

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to H. M. Mint—these two half-crowns are counterfeit, and so is this shilling.

Prisoner's defence: I was not in the shop at all.

GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18980425-302

302. HENRY CLEMENTS (65) and DENNIS KELLY (28) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

LILY HIRD . I live at 420, Bethnal Green Road, and sometimes assist in Mr. Roberts' shop, Three Colt Lane—on March 25th, about six p.m., Clements came in for a quarter pound of bacon and some cheese, and gave me a 5s. piece—I asked if he had got smaller change—he said that he had not and I gave him a half-crown and other money in change, and put the crown into an ornament—when he went out I went outside, and saw him join Kelly about ten yards off on the same side of the street—they went away together—I went back to the shop, as I was alone and compared the crown with another, and it was lighter—a policeman came in, and I handed it to him—I am sure it is the same, as there is a chip on it, as if it had been done with a knife—I picked the prisoners out at the station—I knew Clements by sight.

Cross-examined by Clements. I put the coin on the table, and when I found it was bad I put it in an ornament, but I had taken it out, and had it in my hand when the policeman came—I bit it and it was soft—it was on the table while I went out, and it was still there when I returned—it was after that that I compared it with the good one, which was also in the ornament—I did not see the detective put a mark on it—I noticed that your nose sticks out—no officer told me who to pick out—I am sure you are the man.

Cross-examined by Kelly. He joined you in the same street, but you went down another street.

ALFRED HANLEY (Detective Officer). On the evening of March 25th I went into Mr. Roberts' shop, shortly after seven, in consequence of information—the last witness handed me this crown piece (produced,) and gave me a description of a man—on the same night at a little after seven I found the prisoners in custody at Bethnal Green—I told them that they answered the description of men charged with uttering a 5s. piece to Lily Bird—they made no reply—about 10.30 Miss Hird came to the station and picked them out from ten others—I found nothing on Clements, and 61. on Kelly, made up of a half-crown, seven sixpences, and nine pence, but no purse—I told Kelly that he was seen to throw something away when he was arrested—he made no reply—Clements said that he had no fixed abode—Kelly said that he lived at a lodging-house in Ratcliff Highway.

Cross-examined by Clements. You can see from the shop; there is an electric light there.

TOM MATHEWS (84 J). I arrested Kelly on March 25th, about seven p.m.—he threw something over a wall near Schneider's warehouse and

the railway—I took him to the station—he said nothing—I watched the prisoners together before I arrested Kelly.

Cross-examined by Clements. You were about a mile from Bethnal Green Junction, or it might be three-quarters—it is impossible to see the shop from the Junction, but outside the shop I could see the electric light.

Cross-examined by Kelly. I did not see you throw anything away at the time I arrested you—I knew nothing then about your being suspected—I have been on duty there about six months.

ALFRED HANLEY (Re-examined.) The Junction is about sixty yards from the shop, not a mile.

SAMUEL KNOWLES (105 J) On the night of March 25th I arrested Clements in Dover Street—I had seen him in Three Colt Lane, sixty yards from Mr. Roberts' shop, with Kelly.

Cross-examined by Clements. I first saw you at 6.30, and about seven o'clock I stopped you in the street, and accused you of stealing a purse—a gentleman said that you had stolen his purse in Dermar Street—I went fifty yards down Dermar Street before I saw you—I said, "You have been in a milk shop '—You said, "No.'

REUBEN STREET . I live at 26, Shubrook Road, Fulham, and am a signalman to the District Railway Company—on the night of April 25th I was in front of Schneider's warehouse, and found this 5s. piece on the railway line; I put it in my pocket—there was no other 5s. piece there—I knew it was bad by the weight of it, and gave it to a policeman.

Cross-examined by Kelly. I found it at 7.52—I did not see it come over—the police came on the line-about 9.10 to look for it, and I gave it to them.

CHARLES STOBERT (Policeman J). On the night of March 25th I received this coin from Street—I marked it, and see my mark on it now.

JANE HAMMOND . I am barmaid at the Crown and Dolphin, Cannon Street, Commercial Road—on March 12th I went into the bar at a little past ten and saw Clements there—he called for drink, which came to 3d., and gave me this half-crown (produced)—he saw me try it in the tester, and said, "What are you doing?" and that he could pay with a half-sovereign—he did not ask for the half-crown back, I kept it, and he was given into custody.

Cross-examined by Clements. You did not ask me to try it; I tried it on my own account—when I said that it was bad you did not say, "I don't believe it"—I broke it that you should not pass it on anybody else—I went and informed Mr. Leader, and you had an opportunity of escaping during my absence—you became very abusive and insulting to Mr. Leader—he was in the saloon bar when I called him—you afterwards gave me 2s. for the drink, and I gave you the change—you used bad language—you were not drunk.

GEORGE LEADER . I am landlord of the Crown and Dolphin—on March 12th my barmaid showed me a coin, and I asked Clements what he meant by passing bad money—I went to the till and found another, which appeared to be from the same mould—I handed them both to a constable—he said, "What can you do? I have paid for the drink; I am too b——clever for you; you can't stop me."

ALBERT FENCEY (143 H). I was called, and took Clements, and found on him a florin, five sixpences, and fourteen pence in bronze—he said, "It is hard that a man like me should be the loser, when she told me it was bad I paid her with 2s. at once"—Mr. Leader handed me these two coins—the prisoners were charged at the Thames Police-court and discharged there—that being only uttering.

Cross-examined by Clements. You said, "You must be a b——y fool to charge me; you roust be b——y mad."

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to H. M. Hint—these two crowns are bad and from the same mould, and these two half-crowns are bad and from the same mould.

Cross-examined by Clements. I have seen forty or fifty coins from the name mould.

Clements, in his defence, stated that he did not know that the coins were bad, or he would not have remained within fifty yards of the shop.

Kelly's defence; He said that he saw me throw something away, I said that I did not, it was the first I have heard of it.

GUILTY .—They then PLEADED GUILTY to previous convictions, Clements to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin on November 13th, 1893, and Relly to a felonious uttering on May 20th, 1895. Six other convictions we a proved against Clements, and 16 against Kelly, who had till 312 days to serve on his last sentence of penal servitude.

CLEMENTS— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. KELLY— Three Years' Penal Servitude

Reference Number: t18980425-303

303. SARAH ELIZABETH WATTS BOND (48), PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously marrying James Henry Grey, her husband being alive.— One Day's Imprisonment.

Reference Number: t18980425-304

304. FRANCIS CREAK SADLER (25) , to feloniously marrying Alice Liban Sims, his wife being alive,— Three Years' Penal servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

Reference Number: t18980425-12

(305) JOHN SULLIVAN (30) , to bur-glary in the dwelling-house of Bertram Coureau, and stealing a pair of boots and other articles, his property, after a conviction at this Court on November 21st, 1890. Two other convictions were proved against him.— Three Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 26th, 1898.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18980425-306

306. JAMES WILLIAM SMITH PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling 10s., 20s., and 47s., the moneys of Maurice Henry Peart.— Judgment Respited.

Reference Number: t18980425-307

(And 307) PERCY WADWARD and ARTHUR TEESDALE , to acts of indecency with each other.— Nine Months each. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-308

308. EDWARD DWYER (23) , Robbery with violence on Daniel Boyd, and stealing from him a watch and chain, value £24.

MR. HARRISON Prosecuted.

DANIEL BOYD . I am a master mariner, and live at 4, Havelock Terrace, Glasgow—on March 30th, about 10.30 p.m., I was going down Villiers Street with Captain Lang—we got half-way down the street,

when I got a blow on the face—I cannot say from whom it was—I fell and fractured my ribs, and my watch was taken—the value of the watch and chain was about £25; I have the rest of the chain here (produced)—I was unconscious after the blow.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was struck twice on the head—I did not see who by—I did not hear what kind of description Captain Lang gave at the station; I was insensible—I was sensible enough to go to the station—I think he said the man had red or sandy hair—he said you took your cap off, and he saw your face.

WILLIAM LANG . I live at Glasgow—on March 30th I was walking down Villiers Street with Captain Boyd—we were going towards the Underground Railway—we were passing Duke Street, when suddenly Captain Boyd received a blow from behind, and I looked round and saw the prisoner making off—I ran after him—he went down Duke Street and bared his head, and looked round—he turned up a narrow passage cowards the Strand—I stopped running then—I did not see anything happen to Captain Boyd's chain—I afterwards went to Bow Street and gave a description of the man—there was nobody in Duke Street at the time—on April 11th I was taken to the Police-station and shown a number of men, and picked out the prisoner at once—I have no doubt that he is the man-Captain Boyd must have struck the kerb—his head was bleeding—he seemed stupified—he was in that state all night—I took him on board my own ship, and bathed his head, and put some plaster on it.

Cross-examined. I identified you as the man, because you turned round twice—I saw your face—I can swear to it; I could tell you among 1,000—I described your jacket and clothes—I did not say at the Police-court I could identify you by your face—I said, "I had a good view of the prisoner—not so much of his face," but this morning I picked him out from amongst other men—I identified him by his height, his face, and everything—I am quite sure he is the man—the blow was struck by the right hand so far as I know, and the watch was stolen by your left-hand—I did not speak to Captain Boyd about it—we walked straight to the station, and a gave my description to the officer in charge—I said I knew the man, I Had a good look at him—if you had been put amongst ten other red-headed men I could have picked you out—at the station I gave a description of your height, your face, and your hair—they handed me a thick volume of photographs—you were not among that lot—I did not say I had not seen much of the kind—I only saw part of your face; you only turned half-round—you had the same jacket on as you have now—I only saw part of your handkerchief—I saw the back of your head, and the side of your face.

ALFRED LONG (Detective L.) On March 30th I received I description of a man from Captain Lang—I showed him? book of photos, about 200—he picked nobody out of that—on April 11th I saw the prisoner—I told him he answered the description of a man who was wanted for stealing a watch and chain on March 30th—he said, "What time was it?"—I told him—he then said, "All right, I can prove where I was"—he said he was in the Buckingham public-house, and the barman could prove it—he was placed among thirteen other men, and Captain Lang identified him—

there was another man with sandy hair—I got one in for the occasion—I have been to the Buckingham public-house—it is about half a minute's walk from Villiers Street—I saw the barman—there is a notice put up in all the cells that if accused persons want witnesses they can get them by applying to the police—the prisoner has give notice—the barman is not here.

Cross-examined. I went to the barman—he said he remembered your using the public-house, but the last time he saw you was when he chucked you out of the public-house, on the Saturday when you were charged with being drunk—he said he could not remember you on this night.

Re-examined. The barman said the last time he saw the prisoner was on April 2nd—but that he could not remember if he had been in the house on March 30th—the barman refused to attend.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I can remind the barman, if he will only come up from the Buckingham public-house. I do not know his name; he can prove I was there when the robbery took place. I was in the public-house from ten to eleven. I recollect nothing at all of the robbery.'

The Prisoner, in his defence, said: The prosecutor's witness says he could not identify me by my face, but only by my hair, and if one of your sons were placed among a lot of men, would you like him to be convicted on evidence like this? Is there not more than one man in the streets of London walking about with the same coloured hair as I have got? I know nothing about the charge.

GUILTY .—Numerous other convictions' were proved against the prisoner. Twelve Months' Hard Labour, and Twenty Strokes with the Cat.

Reference Number: t18980425-309

309. CORNELIUS DRISCOLL (86) , Maliciously wounding Richard Harvey, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. LEWIS Prosecuted.

RICHARD HARVEY (250 E.) At 12.40 on Saturday morning, March 20th, I was on duty at Turner's Court, St. Martin's Lane—I saw the prisoner and another man quarrelling—I requested them to go away—the other man went up St. Martin's Lane, and the prisoner said, "All right, cocky, you little know what is in store for you"—he then went up the court—a few minutes later I was going through the court and saw the prisoner standing in a doorway—I just got by the door, when he struck me with a sharp instrument on the left side of the neck—he said "You c—I will cut your—throat"—he seized me by the throat, and then got me by the legs, which threw me down—he said, "You will never leave this court alive"—I had a cut in my left knee—I have been on the sick list since—I and the other constables took him to the station—when charged all he said was "Thanks"—he was behind me, and had his right-arm over mine.

Cross-examined. I heard you say "Thanks" at the station—I took you to the station—I did not go to the hospital—the police surgeon looked to me—I saw you at 12.30—I was on my beat—it takes about thirty minutes to go round it—I was going through the court—I did not say I had been round my beat—after I had moved you the first time I stood

talking to another constable—the court was on ray beat—I had never seen you before—you were sober.

By the COURT. I was on my beat when I saw the two men, and if they had not been quarrelling I should have gone up the court.

CHARLES GRIFFEN (154 E.) About 12.30 on the morning of March 20th I was on duty in St. Martin's Lane—I saw two men having an altercation—one was the prisoner—the last witness ordered them to go away—the other man did so, and the prisoner went up Turner's Court—as he went he turned round to the prosecutor, and said, "You little know what is in store for you"—a few minutes' afterward? went up Turner's Court, and heard a blow as if someone had struck a policeman's cape—it was a wet night, and the policeman had his cape on—I saw a man on the ground, and rushed up—it was the prisoner, and the prosecutor said, "My throat is cut"—the prisoner made no reply—I assisted Harvey to the station, and took the prisoner—when charged he said 'Thanks"—he was perfectly sober—these are the trousers the prosecutor was wearing (Produced)—there are three cuts in them—there was nobody else in the court, but I heard a window open.

Cross-examined. I could see that you were not drunk.

FREDERICK BEASLEY (249 E.) About 12.30 on March 20th I was on duty in Garrick Street, close to Bedfordbury—I met the last witness and the prosecutor taking the prisoner to the station—they told me to search Turner's Court for a knife or razor—I found this razor—it was about two feet from the doorway of No. 3—it was raining at the time, and the razor was very muddy—it was open.

GEORGE ALBERT HAMILTON . I am Divisional Surgeon of Police in the E Divison—I saw the prosecutor on March 20th at Bow Street—he was bleeding from a wound on the left side of the neck, about four inches long, extending forwards and backwards—it was produced by some sharp instrument like this razor—I dressed the wound, and had the man sent to bed—there was a flap of skin on the wound—it was in a dangerous position—I did not find any other wound at that time—but I was called again to the station at four o'clock, and found the same constable with a wound behind his left knee—I was shown his trousers, and the cuts in them correspond with the cuts on his leg—they must have been caused by a very sharp instrument—the wound on his leg was an incised wound—his pants were also cut in the same way, and soaked with blood—it was over a large vein—it is possible that if the cut on the neck had reached the jugular vein he might have died.

Witness for the Defence.

ELLEN O'LEARY . I have known the prisoner for five months—I am a widow, and live at 4, Turner's Court—I saw the prisoner on the night of March 19th—he came in and went upstairs with a can of water—he lives in my house—he was drunk, and fell down with the can—he went upstairs to his mother's room—he then went out, and had an altercation with some men, and the constable kept shoving him up the court—I saw them from the landing window—I went to tell his mother, who was in bed—the two had a struggle, and both fell on the ground—I did not see a knife or razor used—as the policeman went out of the court he said, "I am bleeding—the two policemen took the prisoner away.

By the Prisoner. I saw the policeman pushing you up the court—I did not see you get into any passage in the court—I saw the policeman following up the court.

By the COURT. That was after they had had an altercation at the bottom of the court—they came up directly afterwards.

MARY DRISCOLL . The prisoner is my son—I saw him on this night—I do not know what time he came in—I was in bed—he was very drunk—he said, "I am dependent on you for getting me work, you have been keeping me all this time"—he had fallen down.

By the Prisoner. I saw you go to the cupboard—I did not see you take anything out.

By the COURT. He only keeps bread and butter there—he lives in the same room as I do—I never saw a razor in the room.

Prisoner's defence: I had no ill-feeling against the constable. He said himself that he had never seen me before, and I had never seen him. I have not got a friend in the world except my old mother. I have a crippled brother, who cannot do any work, and? can get nothing to do—my mother does it all. I am a convicted felon, but it is eight years ago since I have been convicted. On the night of this affair I was very drunk; but when I went home I had no ill-feeling against anybody except myself. I saw my mother lying in bed, and I went to the cupboard and took the razor, and when? got into the court I took it out of my pocket. I intended to cut my own throat; but the constable came up and began to kick me, and I struck him; but I did not intend to hurt him.

GUILTY .—Other convictions were proved against the prisoner— Five Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18980425-310

310. WILLIAM JAMES PRICE (25) , Robbery with violence on Charles Restall, and stealing a watch chain.

MR. PINFOLD Prosecuted.

CHARLES RESTALL . I am a carpenter and joiner, of 13, Caledonian Street, King's Cross—on April 11th, about eleven o'clock, I entered the Lord Keefe, in York Street, Marylebone—I was sober—I called for what I required, and while there my watch chain was snatched by the prisoner, who was by my side at the bar—he did not say anything—I did not see him when I entered the house—I believe he came in while I was there—I left immediately after I had drank what I had ordered—I was in the act of drinking when this was done—as I left the house I saw the prisoner following me outside the house—I did not see anyone else at that time, but I was struck from the rear a severe blow at the side of my head, which cut me—I was partially stunned—I was on the ground—my walking-stick was taken from me—I found out afterwards that my watch was gone; it was was perfectly safe when I left the house—I could not swear to the person that struck me; but I recognised the prisoner, and am perfectly sure of his being one of the two I saw as I turned the corner after becoming conscious—I went direct to the station and reported my loss, and gave a description of the prisoner—this (produced) is my stick—I had it under my arm when? was struck—the property I lost was about 30s.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I was struck by? blow from the rear,

but I could not say who struck me—I had not been in the Lord Keefe three minutes.

CHARLES PERCIVAL ALCOCK . I am a publican at 7, York Street—on the night of April 11th, about ten minutes or a quarter to twelve, I saw the prosecutor on the ground, and the prisoner and another follow on the top of him rifling his pockets—I had previously known the prisoner by sight, being a customer of the house—I had also known the other man by sight—I walked up to them, and they ran away—they said, "Here is the governor of the Jerry"—meaning I had taken a beer-house, which they call a Jerry—about ten minutes afterwards I saw the prisoner again coming in from the Lord Keefe smoking a cigarette—I spoke to a constable, and I went to the station, and there saw and identified the prisoner.

Cross-examined. I have no animosity against you.

FREDERICK WHEELER (249 D). On the evening of April 11th, in consequence of a communication from the last witness, I went in search of the prisoner—before that I had seen him in the vicinity of Thornton Place—after that I went to the station to see if the prosecutor had been there—I afterwards went to a coffee-house—I had seen him come from the Lord Keefe about twenty minutes "to twelve—I then had a communication from the last witness, and I then went to the station to make inquiries—I found the prisoner in bed at a lodging-house—I told him he would be arrested for being concerned with another man in assaulting and stealing a walking-stick and money from a man in York Street—he said, "I know nothing of it; I can only say I have a good mind to have a go for it"—I took him to the station, and he was charged—he said nothing—I stopped from going down for Matthews up to twenty minutes to twelve—I knew he had no right to go there.

HENRY HEATH (246 D). On April 11th I was on duty in this locality about 11.30, in North Street, going in the direction of the Lord Keefe public-house—I afterwards saw prisoner when he was taken into custody by the last witness—I found this stick next morning, about three o'clock, about thirty yards from the place—I went to the station with the last witness and the prisoner—I heard him say that he had a good mind to have a go for it.

Witness for the Defence.

Mrs.—PRICE. The prisoner is my son—I was not called at the Police-court—I was with him at half-past ten on Easter Monday in the Duke of York public-house—after that I went away—he had a bag of his tools on his back.

Prisoners' defence: On Easter Monday morning I went to work up to ten o'clock. I came straight away home to the Lord Keith, where I had half a pint of beer. I saw my mother and brother, and stopped till eleven. I had to take my bag of tools to Quaker Street. I then went to the Lord Keefe and had a drink of beer and a smoke. This was not done by me at all—it was some other man that got away, and I borrowed the dog to smoke out some rats.

GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction on August 19th, 1895.— Judgment Respited.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 26th, 1898.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-311

311. WILLIAM LAWSON (25) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSON, for the Prosecutor, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .

(For other Cases tried this day see Surrey Cases.)

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, April 27th, 28th and 29th, 1898.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18980425-312

312. CHARLES EWIN (19) , Robbery with violence on Albert Perkins, and stealing a watch and chain, his property.

MR. COLLINS Prosecuted.

ALBERT PERKINS . I am a baker of the Hackney Road—on March 31st about noon I was passing across Dish Street, Hackney Road, and saw four young fellows—the prisoner is one—I was immediately struck, and stunned, not by the prisoner—when I recovered, my silver watch and gold chain were gone, and I saw all four running away—I ran after them, and the prisoner tripped me up by putting his foot between my legs—I followed them into Columbia Road, into a passage where there is no outlet—they pushed the door of a little house, and ran through—I ran after them, and was followed by a man, who turned out to be a constable—there was another outlet—the prisoner did not go through the house—I saw him in the main thoroughfare, and gave him in charge—he said that he" saw them strike me, but was not one of them—I am sure he is the man who put his foot between mine, and tried to prevent my chasing the other men—I showed the mark to the Magistrate—my watch, and a small bit of the chain attached to it were lying in the road.

JOHN MCKENZIE (98 G). On March 1st I was on duty in Hackney, about twelve o'clock, and saw the prisoner and three others half-way down opposite No. 91, and saw the prisoner and another go behind Perkins, and two others in front of him—one of the men not in custody struck him on his stomach, and he seemed to bend over—I knew the prisoner by sight—I pursued him down Dish Street, and he tried to trip me up—it was broad daylight—one man went into a court and into a house, and over the roof of a wash-house—I was obliged to let him go—I took him in Wellington Road—he said that he saw the men, but was not one of them.

Cross-examined. You put your foot between mine—I was not in uniform—I saw you two days before with some of the other men.

The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I want nothing to do with these fellows. I was walking along Hackney Road, looking for a job. At the top of a street four more lids passed me. Suddenly I heard a gentleman call out, Oh!' When I looked round I see four fellows running down Wiss Street. I started along Hackney Road to Shoreditch. The gentleman and the constable asked me to go along with them."

GUILTY .— Judgment Respited.

Reference Number: t18980425-313

313. CHARLES EDWARD WILLIAMS (38) , Unlawfully, and by false pretences, procuring Louisa Harriet Ellen Harding, to have carnal connection with himself and others.

MR. A. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. SANDS Defended.

GUILTY .—He received a good character.

MR. SANDS moved in arrest of judgment that the word "procuring" in the Statute applied only to the procuring for another person, and not for the person himself, and requested, if the RECORDER entertained any doubt on the point, that he would state a ease for the Court of Criminal Appeal. The RECORDER, having heard MR. GILL in reply, considered that "any person" included the prisoner himself, and declined to state a case.— Judgment Respited.

Reference Number: t18980425-314

314. JOHN ROUSBY (48), and CHARLES ANCOURT (23) , Unlawfully conspiring to obtain from Henry Augustus Sedger £8 10s., £10, and £8, and from Charles Padley £4, and from Thomas William Hunt, £3 1s. 8d., with intent to defraud.

ROUSBY PLEADED GUILTY to the first and seventh Counts, and MR. MUIR for the prosecution offered no evidence against him on the other Counts.

Mr. BURNIE appeared for ANCOURT.

THOMAS WILLIAM HUNT . I keep the Eagle, Walker Street, Bermondsey—on March 26th I was manager of the Essex Arms, Upper Marsh, Lambeth—I have known Rousby a year and a half—on March 26th he came in with a man with a heavy moustache, rather light, who was quite six feet high, and Rousby referred to him as his "Boss" and introduced him to me, and I took a book down—he said that he had not got change enough without changing a cheque, and if I wanted £500 I could have it—I said, 'I do not know you at all"—the prisoner said "He has got to pay me for work I have done for him"—he wrote this cheque (For £3 10s.—Signed, "Thomas Kent")—I cashed it for him—they remained five minutes, and left together—he had a parcel with him—he came back afterwards and asked me to change another cheque—I said, "No, I have already changed one"—he asked if I would go out with him, but I did not—the cheque was paid into my partnership bank, and was returned, marked "No account."

Cross-examined. The cheque was written in my presence.

HARRY AUGUSTUS SEDGER . I am manager of Merlin's Hotel, Soho—on March 11th or 12th Miss Denny introduced the prisoner to me, after which he used the hotel as a customer at the bar, not sleeping there—a friend named Johnson, with a dark and rather heavy moustache, was with him—Rousby was introduced to me as Captain Yardley—I saw Yardley, Johnson, and Rousby together one Saturday night in March, about 11 o'clock—on March 26th I cashed this cheque for £8 10s. for Ancourt, between four and five p.m.—I asked him if it was all right—he said "Yes," he knew Clarkson, the drawer—he endorsed it in my presence—next day, Sunday, I cashed another cheque for him for £10—it was the same drawer, the same payee, and the game bank, and another on the Monday for £8 by the same drawer to the same payee—I paid the money to a gentleman named Hillier—the £10 cheque was paid into my employer's account, but the £8 I got from a butcher—I got them both

back marked "No account"—I saw Rousby, Hillier, and Ancourt together on the Saturday evening—I saw a cheque-book either in Ancourt's or Johnson's possession, they were both present, it was flashed open, and shut again by one of them, who said "This book is worth £11,000"—Hillier was there then—I did not see the cheque written—after the cheque came back I saw Ancourt and Hillier and said, "This cheque has come back, and the cheque-book is the proceeds of a burglary"—Ancourt said, "I will help you to find Clarkson"—we went to the Essex Arms, where we found Rousby with a man dressed in a brown suit—they went into the billiard-room, and I did not see them again—when I showed him the cheque returned he said, "I only paid Clarkson yesterday £317 15s."—that was the day before he was arrested.

Cross-examined by Ancourt. I knew you three weeks before you were examined—Miss Denny, the barmaid, introduced you—I have known her three years—you were in her company—she had said, "I will bring my young man, and introduce you to him"—there was no betting in my house—your first cheque was for £8 10s.; my butcher cashed it—I never cashed one for £40—I believe I said, in Mr. Hillier's presence, that you knew nothing about the affair, that I did not believe you would do such a thing, and that it was Clarkson—he asked if I was the prosecutor—I said, "No," and that Mr. Essex was—you asked me to get you bail, and Mr. Fowler said, "Why don't you get your friend Johnson?"—I did not go to Mr. Nicholson previous to that.

HENRY ESSEX . I live at Silver Crescent, Gunnersbury—on March 26th my house was broken into while I was away, and I missed £25 worth of property and a cheque-book on the London branch of the London and County Bank—there had been fifty cheques in it, of which I had used eight—the counterfoils remained in it, and on one of November 3rd £305 was mentioned—I gave information to the police and at the bank—these five cheques produced were in the book.

Cross-examined. My house was broken into between 3 and 11 o'clock, when I returned—I have never seen you before.

ALFRED HENRY KINGSWELL . I am cashier of the Chiswick branch of the London and County Bank—these cheques were all presented there at different times, and returned marked "No account"—they were issued to Mr. Essex—the drawers, Clarkson and Camp, have no account there.

Cross-examined. You never had an account there to my knowledge.

CHAS. PADLEY . I keep the Crown and Anchor, Farringdon Street—I have seen the prisoners twice as customers—I did not know them by name—on March 29th I was fetched down and saw them with another man, rather short, with a fair moustache—Rousby asked me if I would change a cheque for £4—he said that he had been to Fleet Street to see a gentleman who would have changed it, but he was out—It was drawn in favour of Mr. Russell—Rousby filled in the date, and endorsed it in my presence—if I had known that that was not his name I would not have cashed it—Ancourt was present the whole time—I paid it into my account, and it was returned, marked "No account"—I afterwards was

about to identify Ancourt from a number of others, but he said, "I am the man you want."

Cross-examined. I had no doubt about you before that.

JANE SALTER . I was formerly barmaid at the Punch Tavern, Fleet Street—I have known Ancourt 14 months—I had been very friendly with him, and he had offered me marriage, and borrowed money from me—I was with him one day in January in an omnibus, and he showed me a cheque-book—I saw the amount of £305 or £350 in a corner of it—he asked me if I had any money—I said "No"—the cheques were a pinkish colour—I did not see a name in it, he closed it up too quick—I know Rousby as Captain Yardley—I saw him once at the Punch Tavern with Ancourt, Johnson, and another man who I do not know—Ancourt and Johnson went out—I have seen Johnson with Captain Yardley three or four times—on March 30th, before he was arrested, I met Ancourt—he told me that he was in trouble about the cheques and that Hillier was outside the public-house in Dean Street and a man came up to him and gave him some cheques and Hillier gave them to Ancourt and asked him to take them and told him afterwards that they had been stolen—I have a pen and ink in the bar for the use of customers and this cheque is with that ink (Coloured); that is similar to what I use—I have corresponded with him and had some letters from him.

Cross-examined. I have known you fourteen months, going out with you day after day, and we went into a public-house together on March 30th—you told me you were in trouble—you said that you had cashed cheques with a man named Fletcher—you did not say "I had to give him back £26 as he was a poor man," but you took the money out of my purse, as you always did when you wanted money—when I first knew you you were a foreman and afterwards a bookmaker—I have been employed at the Carpenter's Arms—it is four or five months ago that I Haw you in possession of this cheque—this cheque-book looks like the one you showed me in the omnibus and you showed it to a young lady at the Punch Tavern—that was on the day before you were arrested and I told you to put it away—I have never seen your draft book—I did not say before the Magistrate that you are a great flirt—I got to know since that you have got another girl, and I was very angry; but even if I had not known it I should have given evidence—I was not told what to say when I got into the witness-box—you took money out of my purse,—you always told me you would give it me back, but you never did.

LOTTIE DENNY . I was formerly barmaid at the Green Man and French Horn, Finch Lane—I have been discharged since this case—I have known Ancourt about a month—he offered me marriage—he asked me to lend him money, but I did not do so—I did not become engaged to him—Johnson was in the habit of coming there with him—he is dark, with dark curly hair and a dark moustache. Ancourt introduced him to me as Mr. Johnson—I saw a cheque-book in their possession two or three weeks before Ancourt was arrested—Johnson produced it and gave it to Ancourt—it was green, and doubled up—Ancourt then went behind the bar and wrote in the cheque-book and brought' the book back and gave it to Johnson—I asked Ancourt what

they were doing—he said that he had been writing two cheques—I said. "If you are seen writing cheques in a public-house you will he had up for it"—about March I saw Ancourt with a cheque-book—I cannot tell you the colour, but the cheques were pink—they were not doubled up, but flat—he asked me for pen, ink and paper, and wrote out some cheques in the book—he said that he was going to the bank—there were some counterfoils in the book—these cheques (produced) are the same colour—on the night of March 28th Mr. Hillier asked me to cash one of those cheques, which was for £8 10s.—I know there was an 8 in it.

Cross-examined. I knew you as a customer about a month before you were arrested, and afterwards as a bookmaker—I had several bets with you, but did not hand you money to put on horses—I only knew you a few days before I went out with you—I introduced you to my friends the first night I went out with you—you said several times that you would marry me—I did not treat it as a joke, but I kept it quiet—I introduced you to Mr. Hillier.

FRANCIS HENRY HILLIER . I am a clerk—Bliss Denny introduced Ancourt to me about a week before he was arrested—he said that he was a book maker, and wanted a clerk, and that he had thirty-three clerks; and a man at Tattersall's—I was to have no salary, but a share out of the book—he asked me to pay in £5, but I did not—I acted as his clerk for one week, but only received a cheque for £5 from him—he introduced Ancourt as his partner—I saw Rousby with Ancourt and Johnson on two or three occasions—he was introduced as Captain Yardley—we settled day by day—on Monday, the 28th, I met them in the street—I had paid £4 out of my own pocket that day—we went to the Punch Tavern, and I asked Ancourt for some money—he said, "Wait a minute, and I will give you a cheque"—he went outside and brought me a cheque in violet ink, shaking it, as it was wet—I first took it to Miss Denny, and eventually to Mr. Ledger, who cashed it, and I paid it all away next morning to the prisoner's account—he borrowed 5s. of me at the Punch Tavern—I have never got my £4 5s. back, or any payment for the work I did—he brought out a cheque-book at Maiden and flashed it, and said that it was worth £11,000—that was the first time I ever saw him—the cheques were the same colour as these—I asked him what bank—he said the London and County—when the first cheque came back I went to find him, and said, "I thought your bankers were the London and County?"—he said, "No, the London and Westminster."

Cross-examined. I am not a personal friend of Mr. Stan ton, the manager, I am only a customer—I know Mr. Cookson, the proprietor—the terms you made with me were one-third out of the book, and afterwards you asked me to pay £5, and then £10—I had only known you a week—I have never bad any bets with you—I was not taking bets from you up to the Wednesday—I stopped it on Monday.

HENRY FOWLER (Detective Sergeant, T). On March Slat I received information about these cheques, and made inquiries at the banks—I saw Ancourt at Morland's Hotel, Dean Street—I showed him the cheque for £10, and said, "I am a police officer; I understand you gave this cheque to Mr. Ledger, and two others out of the same book; the cheques were obtained

by burglary, and unless you can give me satisfactory explanation you will be taken for forgery"—he said, "Yes, that is quite true; I gave the cheque to Mr. Ledger; I got it from a man named Clarkson; he made three bets with me, and they all lost"—I said, "Where does he live?"—he said, "That is the unfortunate part of it; I was introduced to him about a week ago by a friend of mine, Mr. Williams"—I said, "Where does Williams live?"—he said, "I don't know"—he then produced this telegram referring to a horse from Clarkson, and Raid that he had put £8 on it, and that that was the first bet he had with Clarkson—I said that I was not satisfied, and should take him in custody—he said, "All right"—I said, "Was any one with you t"—he said, "No"—I made a note of the conversation—I took him to Chiswick, and he was charged with burglary and stealing—he said, "I know nothing about it"—on April 7th he was put up at the Police-court for identification by Mr. Padley—he said, "I am the man; I don't want to get out of it; we are here and look like being here for home time"—after he was committed, Poole and I went to see him in Holloway—he made a statement of his own accord and we both took it down—this is my copy, he signed it—no inducement was held out—he wrote a letter to Sergeant Pedder and asked him to come—the statement refers also to other people—he said: "About six months ago I advertised in a newspaper, and about two weeks afterwards a man was introduced to me as Johnson, who I afterwards knew as Clarkson; he showed me a cheque-book, and told me he had committed several robberies at Chiswick and Shepherd's Bush and stolen a cheque-book"—he said that the man who helped in the burglary was the man who had stolen the cheque-book, and that Johnson had obtained money out of that particular cheque-book, and that he took the proceeds of the burglary to his house, and that he knew Johnson to be on ticket-of-leave—he signed that.

Cross-examined. We looked into several public-houses and tried to find this man who had given these cheques in payment of bets—Mr. Hillier told me that you were making a book at his house.

ALBERT PEDDER (Detective Sergeant, E). After Ancourt was in custody I received this letter from him (produced), and received permission to visit him in prison, when Foster and I both took down his statement.

Ancourt's statement before the Magistrate. "I can call evidence at the trial to prove that I obtained that cheque in betting transactions, and that I am innocent The witness Hillier has committed gross perjury."

Ancourt, in his defence, stated that the man gave him the two cheques to cash for him, and raid that he would give him £1; he complained that his witnesses were absent, and stated that the cheques produced were not prove I to be the proceeds of the burglary.

GUILTY . He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at the Mansion House on October 11th, 1897. Several other convictions were proved against him.— Judgment on both prisoners respited.

Reference Number: t18980425-315

315. WALTER SELWIN, alias IVES (52) , Forging and uttering a warrant for the delivery of 24 cheque forms.

MR. GILL Prosecuted and MR. FOOTE, Q.C., Defended.

JOSEPH BIRNIE LOW . I am ledger clerk at the Clydesdale Bank—

John Petre, Son and Co. kept an account there—on February 24th a boy messenger brought me an envelope containing this order for a cheque-book (Signed "J. Petre and Co.")—I believe that to be the signature of the firm and enclosed 25 cheques, 760,276 to 760,250, in an enveloped addressed to Messrs. Petre and Co., and signed the boy's ticket—this (produced) is one of the forms out of that cheque-book

FREDRICK WILLIAM DUNSTAN THOMPSON . I am a clerk to Alexander and Co., bankers, of 24, Lombard Street, the London agents of Morris and Co., of Paris—this cheque reached them for collection, and I presented it at the Clydesdale Bank, and received a crossed cheque for the money, which was transmitted to Paris.

JOHN BRANDER . I am a cashier at the Clydesdale Bank—this cheque for £920 was produced by a clerk of Alexander and Co—it is a very good signature, and I gave it to the transfer clerk.

JOHN PETRE . I am a merchant, carrying on business as John Petre, Son, and Co., 3 and 4, Lime Street Square—I retired in June, 1895, and am now carrying on business at 16, Philpot Lane—this order for a cheque-book is not my writing—it is not so good as the cheque, which is very good indeed.

Cross-examined. I know nothing of the prisoner—we can trace no lost cheques—the form we should have used is different to this, and a different colour.

JAMES BROWNING . I am a boy messenger at the branch office, 120, Leadenhall Street—on February 24th I saw the prisoner there, and was then sent to 4, Lime Street Square, where I saw him again outside the door—he wore a hat and a black coat with a velvet collar—he gave me a letter and told me to take it to the Clydesdale Bank—I did so and handed it to a clerk, and was given an envelope sealed up—I took it to Lime Street Square, and saw a gentleman outside, who said, "I am Mr. Petre"—I said, "This is the answer"—he asked me how much it was—I said, "Sixpence"—he gave me sixpence and twopence for myself—when I gave him the envelope he had a brown coat on—some time afterwards I was spoken to about it, and gave a description of the man to the police—on March 80th Inspector Abbott took me to different places during the day, and in the afternoon we were near the bottom of Regent Street, and saw the prisoner and another man come out of the Continental Hotel—I spoke to the inspector.

Cross-examined. It was two or three weeks after I got the thing from the bank that I gave the description of the man—I said that he wore a black coat with a velvet collar, a round felt hat, a brown moustache, and was not quite so tall as the inspector; but that he had a high silk hat, when he gave me the letter, and was about thirty-four years old—I told the inspector that he looked old—I do not call thirty-four young—I did not tell the inspector that he had got no moustache; I said that he had no whiskers—I am certain that the man I saw that day had a moustache—it was pointed, and about the same colour as the prisoner's—I go five or six errands every day, and see and speak to a great many people—I should have known the prisoner if I had met him in the street without the inspector—the change of hat prevented my knowing him when I came back from the bank—I had been talking to him about two minutes

when he gave me the message, and about five minutes the last time—I was away about a quarter of an hour, and I did not know him again when I saw him a quarter of an hour afterwards—the inspector did not tell me the name of the man we were looking for on March 30th, and when the man, who I say was the prisoner, came out of the Continental Hotel I went up Piccadilly Circus—that is some distance off—he went up Regent Street, and the inspector and I followed him and overtook him between the Hotel Continental and Piccadilly Circus—we did not go up as far as Piccadilly Circus, but about half-way—he was wearing the same clothes as when he gave me the letter, a greenish overcoat—it was a green coat the second time.

Re-examined. When I went back from the bank with the sealed envelope I went to the door in Lime Street, and was looking to see if I could see the name painted up, and the prisoner came up and said, "Who are you looking for?"—the inspector did not write down the description when I gave it to him.

ERNEST HARVEY . I am clerk to Messrs. Munroe, banker, at Paris—on March 1st this cheque for £920 was presented to me by the prisoner for collection—he said that his brother had done business with the Paris Bank—I took it and told him to come again in four days' time—we forwarded it to our agents, and the prisoner came again on March 4th, and brought back a kind of memorandum, which I had given him—he was then paid 1,000 francs in notes, and the balance in smaller money—he signed a receipt giving the address "Continental Hotel"—before he was given the money I was asked to identify him as the person who had brought the cheque, and I had an opportunity of looking at him again—I was in England on March 30th, and was with Inspector Abbott outside the Continental Hotel; and saw two men leave, one of whom was the prisoner.

Cross-examined. When I paid the man the money his moustache was a good deal darker than it is now; it was a darkish grey—I mean beginning to get grey—he looks older—he was dressed in a dark blue over-coat and a silk hat, not a felt hat—he told me on the first day that he was living at the Continental Hotel—we sent round and found that he had been there and at the Hotel de Paris—I know that in the previous year a man named Ives had some dealings with our bank, and that he was living at an hotel in the Rue Washington—he was at the bank, and did business twice in 1897—that was in January, and the prisoner said that was his brother—the prisoner's voice does not resemble Ives, I did not tell him that it did not—this is not an open counter, like an English bank, we have a little railing; it is not very well lit, but we can see a man's face—another clerk, saw him sign for the money, but he cannot say one way or the other.

Re-examined. These four notes (produced) are the transaction, and only transaction—the circular notes were cashed through us in November, December 1896, and January 1897.

VICTORIA MESSENGER . I am the wife of George Messenger, a greengrocer, of 41, York Road, Battersea—he is an invalid—we also do some removing—43, York Road is a coffee-house on the other side of the road—we have no place in the Borough Market—some time ago some removing was done for the prisoner in the name of Selwin—he came and

asked me if I had a banking account, and asked if I could introduce him—I said, "You don't want any introduction"—he said that a letter was coming, and he would answer it—next day a letter came, and I answered it—he came two or three days afterwards, and said that he would answer it—I said that it was already answered—that was the last I saw of him—I do not remember whether I said where I banked—I had a letter from the bank—in consequence of what was in the letter I asked him who Ives was—he said a friend of his.

Cross-examined. He made a gesture with his arm—I do not know what that meant—ours is a pretty good business, and we have a small banking account at the South-Western.

EDWARD SMITH . I am manager of the Streatham branch of Parr's Banking Company—I received by post this letter, dated October 9th, 1896. (Requesting permission to open an account, stating that he had been engaged in (he fruit trade abroad, but had settled in England and re erring to Messenger an Co., of York Street.) On October 12th, to the best of my knowledge, the prisoner called to open an account with, £50 in gold, and afterwards, £80 was paid in in gold—he was given a cheque-book, and got from us £50 in circular notes in October—there were cheques in January, February and August, leaving a balance still with us—a cheque for £25 came back from Paris, and one for 45 franca—in consequence of that letter I sent a letter to G. Messenger, of York Street, and after some days got this reply—I only got one reply from them.

FRANCES POWER . I live at 77, Church Road, Upper Norwood—there is a registry office for servants there—W. J. Ives has not lived there—we sometimes take in letters for persons, and charge a small fee.

THOMAS ABBOTT (City Detective Inspector.) I received information with regard to this forged cheque, went to Paris, and pursued my inquiries during March—the boy gave me a description of the man, which I reduced to writing—I saw Mr. Harvey in Paris—on March 30th I was with Mr. Harvey and the boy looking for a man whose name I can give—I gave instructions to the boy—I was outside the Continental Hotel, and the prisoner came out with the man I had been keeping observation on—I directed the boy and Harvey to look to them, and the boy came back and made a communication to me, and Harvey also—I arrested the prisoner and the other man was arrested by the other officers—I took him in a cab to the Old Jewry and said, "You have been arrested for forging and uttering a cheque in the name of W. J. Ives"—the warrant was in the name of Ives—I read it to him—he said that he would bring the man face to face who said that he forged the cheque, and turned to the other man and said "I am not going to stand this; I am not the man you want, but I know who it is"—he mentioned a name, and I put it in writing—he said, "I want to see the chief inspector"—I said, "I am the inspector in the case"—he then wrote out this statement, and also this letter (produced)—the warrant was again read to him, and he said, "On March 1st I was on the continent, that I can easily prove" and that his address was the Continental Hotel, Brussels—he gave the name of Walter Selwin—he was asked his London address—he said, "That is enough for you"—I found letters and telegrams on him addressed Walter Selwin, 70, Church Road, Upper Norwood—that is a hair-dresser's—I went there, and

found letters addressed to Captain Selwin—70 is quite distinct from 77 on the opposite side of the road.

Cross-examined. I have two letters and a telegram from 77, and took about a dozen letters from him addressed to 70—I first knew that the name of Ives was on the forged cheque on March 10th, as soon as the cheque was placed in my hands—I had never seen the prisoner till I arrested him—I went to the Continental Hotel in Paris first, and found that a man of that name stopped there in March—I have not got the name on paper of any guest there, but I have at the Hotel de Paris—I went to the Hotel Washington on my second visit, and ascertained that a man giving the name of W. J. Ives stayed there on March 1st and 2nd, and at the Hotel de Palais from March 1st to 2nd, and at the Washington B. Ives stayed from the 1st to the 5th, but not on the 4th.

HARRY WHITE . I know the prisoner—I have seen him with a dark moustache and with a fair moustache, as it is now.

FRANK PEACH . (Not examined in chief.)

Cross-examined. I have known the prisoner intimately for five years—I went to Paris on February 28th, and was there till Saturday night, March 5th—I stayed at 18, Rue de Brion the first two days with a married lady—the first place I stayed at was (Writing the address.)—those were the only two places I stayed at—the last was an hotel pension de famille—I did not stay at the Continental or the Palais—I do not recognise that lady (Mr. Softer)—I have never seen her before, or that man (Manivy)—I will swear that I did not stay at the Hotel de Palais on the night of March 2nd—I did not go to Munroe's bank while I was there—I am a commissionaire—I went to Paris for pleasure—I do not go five or six times a year—I have been there about three times in my life—I was there about twelve months before March—I did not see Ives in Paris—I have never been unfriendly with him—I have not corresponded with his wife—I have never been in his house in my life—this letter (produced) is my writing, but I have no recollection of corresponding with her—I have with him—this letter of June 19th, 1893, beginning "My dear Mrs. Selwin, I shall be glad to see you" is also in my writing—I have only been to the house once, and then I never even saw her, but she wrote to me—I bad a letter from Mr. Butter worth, a solicitor, about it—I was not on intimate terms with the family, but she wrote to me—I had forgotten the transaction—I was on intimate terms with her husband, not with her—I was in Paris, and did not meet him—it is not true that I met him, and that he recommended me to move to the Hotel Continental because it was cheaper or that I was going to get some money at Monroe's on some bonds—I speak a little French—I do not know the hotel in the% Rue Washington, I have never been there in my life—the prisoner did not lend me £6 when I was in Paris that time; he did sometime ago—I did not pay it back on this visit to Paris; I have not paid it back at all—I did not leave my washing bill unpaid in Paris at either of the hotels—I did not go there, nor to Monroe's bank—I did not go by the name of Ives in Paris.

Re-examined. I have not seen the prisoner's wife at all—I was only there once, and I did not see her—I do not know that he has gone by the

name of Ives, or that he had opened this account—at the time that I wrote the letters he was away from his wife.

Evidence for the Defence.

ADELE SOFIER (interpreted.) I live at the Hotel de Palais, Cour de la Reine, Paris—I am the niece of the proprietor and assist in the management of the hotel—on March 2nd a well-dressed customer came—he had a coat with a fur collar, a brown moustache closely cut and a little greyish—he gave his name lue, but no initial—he did not tell me personally, but he wrote it down, and I understood it U E.—I saw him I here to-day when I arrived, down stairs—he arrived at 7.30 or 8 p.m., and stopped on the second-floor—I rang for the waiter to take his luggage, which was a very new travelling bag—I have been there ten years—I was there in July, 1897, and remember very well a visitor named Ives coming there—that is the man (The prisoner)—he occupied No. 56, and left his address at the hotel, 9, Rue "Washington—he has never been at our hotel since.

Cross-examined by MR. GILL. The prisoner stayed at the hotel from July 23rd to August 13th, twice in the same name—on the first occasion he stayed two or three days, and on the second from about July 22nd or 23rd till about August 13tha gentleman, whom I do not know, asked me to come over here, who was provided with a letter from Mr. lue—I was asked whether a knew Mr. Ives who stayed at the Hotel de Palais, and whether I knew why he left in July—the letter is at my hotel in London—I did not bring it because I did not know it was necessary—he said, "You will remember me perfectly well because I left your hotel because you found fault with me because I brought a woman of a certain character there"—after asking me at what number Mr. lue was living in the hotel in July; I was asked again to remember whether the man who stopped at the hotel in July was the same man who stopped there in March, and I said at once that it was not the same—the letter came from the prisoner—nobody pointed out the man I identified this morning—I saw him with a police officer in uniform downstairs. (The witness was directed to fetch the Utter.)

JEAN MANIVY (interpreted.) I am garcon at the Hotel de Palais—I was there in March this year, when a guest came giving the name of Ives—there he is (The prisoner)—I did not see the last witness point him out—I saw him twice in July—I cannot remember the time he remained, but I saw him again about July 22nd, and he stayed till about July 14th—I never saw him again.

Cross-examined. I have been in Court here all day, inside and outside—I was at this barrier till we were ordered out—I was not surprised when I saw Mr. Peach in the box, but I recognised him—I could not express surprise at his evidence because it was in English, and I did not, understand it—when the manageress and I were ordered out, we were doing nothing at all I did not see Peach in court before the case came on, because he was over there—I did not know that the purpose of my giving evidence was to prove that the man who was there in July was not the same man who was there in March—nobody wrote to me—I saw the letter that was written to the manageress—we came over, together with a male servant, from the Rue Washington—I arrived here yesterday

morning—when? saw the prisoner in July he had the same colour moustache.

Re-examined. No lawyers came to the hotel to arrange about my coming to London.

MDLLE. SOFIER (re-examined). A young man called to see me in Paris before I came over here—I do not think he was a lawyer, I think he was an agent.

JOSEPH DELAROY . In February last I was garcon at the Hotel Volk, 9, Rue Washington—I recollect a guest coming at the end of February named Ive—he stopped about eight days—the prisoner is the man—he slept there every night—I took some tea up to him every morning at 7.30—I waited till he rang the bell.

Cross-examined. We have thirty-five rooms, and he had No. 25—we have a good many customers—I am valet de chambre and manager—I have a good deal to do—I wait at dinner and breakfast, and prepare the dinner—I do not cook—it was at the end of February the man came, not on March 1st—I do not think it was the day after February 18th—I serve four or five people with breakfast of a morning, and some come down after they have dressed—he had a box, and I hat box and a small box—it was not a wooden box, but a tin one—he had no portmanteau—the box was not very new; it was thin—I never looked to see if there was a name on it—he did not say where he came from—he had a silk hat in the hat-box—he always went out with a silk hat—he had not a dark overcoat with a velvet collar; he had a green-dark overcoat, short—he had no hat but the silk one—this is an interesting case to me; I have listened to the evidence to-day—I heard it very well, arid heard something about a green coat.

MDLLE. SOFIER (re-examined.) These are the letters I received. (The first of these was from the prisoner in Holloway Prison, addressed in English to Jean Manivy reminding him of the circumstances under which he stayed at his hotel last summer, and stating that someone giving the same name had stayed there in March, and uttered? forged cheque at Monroe's bank; he requested him to come to London and give evidence, and stated that his expenses would be paid.) I received this other letter on April 15th. (This was signed "W. T. Ives" from H. M. Prison, Holloway, stating what he required to be, proved, and requesting her to communicate with his solicitor, who would pay any expenses.)

Evidence in Reply

JAMES BROWNING (re-examined.) I saw Peach at the Police-court, and here yesterday—he is not the man who gave me the letter, and told me to go to the Clydesdale Bank.

ERNEST HARVEY (re-examined.) Peach is not the man who sent me to the bank to get the money.

GUILTY He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction at this Court on April 4th, 1892, after another conviction. He had been sentenced twice to penal servitude.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

The RECORDER considered that Inspector Abbott deserved the highest credit.

Reference Number: t18980425-316


(31), Stealing a dividend warrant for £335 1s. 7d., the property of Mary Cathcart.

The prosecutrix did not appear.


Reference Number: t18980425-317

317. MAY SALVAGE and CHARLES CLEMENT BARLOW were again indicted for feloniously forging and uttering a Warrant for the payment of £335 1s. 7d., with intent to defraud.

MR. ELLIOTT, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.


Reference Number: t18980425-318

318. MARKS AARON (26) , Unlawfully taking Janie Citron, a girl under sixteen, out of the possession of her father, that she might be carnally known by him.

MR. BURNIE Prosecuted.


THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, April 27th, 1898.

Before, Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-319

319. WILLIAM HENRY BEAUCHAMP (35) , For wilful and corrupt perjury.

MR. TORR Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHKGAN Defended.

Upon MR. TORRS opening, the COMMON SERJEANT considered that the issue upon which the perjury was charged was an immaterial one, and directed a verdict of


Reference Number: t18980425-320

320. ARTHUR NOLAN (26) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

WALTER SAMUEL MAYBANK . I am a draper, of 482, Cable Street, Shad well—on April 1st the prisoner came in at 9.15 for some collars and a tie—he picked out one without looking through—the price was 1s. 0 1/2 d.—he put down a 5s. piece—I took it round to my till—I did not say anything—I tested it and found it bad—I told him? had not got change, and I went out to Mr. Mann's shop, and we came back—the prisoner was detained and given into custody—he said, "I am not in the habit of changing bad money"—this is the coin.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I said at the Police-court that as I had taken a bad piece of money I and my neighbours had arranged together that we should help each other in detaining the persons—a bad 5s. piece had been taken, on March 16th.

ALICE MANN . I and my husband keep a fish shop at 480, Cable Street—I was in the shop on March 18th—a man came in for a small quantity of fish—he offered a crown piece—I think the prisoner is the man, but I cannot swear it—I gave him 4s, 8d. change—I put the coin in the till—I had no other 5s. piece—my husband took it to market—he returned and threw the coin on the table—I was taken to the station—I had given a description of the man—I saw several men—I picked the prisoner out by his face and not by his clothes—he has? beard and whiskers now—he had had not got a beard when I identified him; he was clean-shaved—I cannot say if that was on April 1st or 2nd.

Cross-examined. I saw you going to the station with the constable—I said at the Court that I could not swear to you—I said you were like the man.

EMILY KERSHAW I live at 10, Ady-street, Bethnal Green—I work at the shop of Mr. Taylor at Florida Street—I was there on March 19th between ten and eleven p.m.—the prisoner came in for four pennyworth of fish—he paid with? crown piece—I called Mrs. Taylor up and gave it to her—she gave him the change—he went away—she gave the coin to Mr. Taylor—she broke it, and threw it into the fire—I went to the Police-station—I picked the prisoner out—he is the man who gave me the coin—there were about twenty men there—he had a beard, as he has now, when he changed the five-shilling piece—he was exactly the same.

Cross-examined. When I am picked you out in the Court I said you were like the man.

ANN TAYLOR . I am the wife of James Taylor, who keeps a fishshop—on March 29th the last witness gave me a five-shilling piece—when Mr. Taylor came in I showed it to him, and he put it in the tester, broke it, and threw it into the fire—to melted quickly—the prisoner was just the same as he is now—I cannot say if he had whiskers—I could not pick him out.

ALFRED ATKINS (101 H). I was called to Mr. Maybank's shop on April 1st—the prisoner was charged with uttering a counterfeit crown piece—he said "All right."

JOHN MANN . On March 20th I took a 5s, piece out of the till—it was the only one there—I took it to Shad well market—I did not then know it was bad—when I gave it away they broke it and said it was bad—I took it home and gave it to my wife—I threw it on the table—I then took it to the station and reported it to the police—my wife had given me a description of the man who paid it—this is it (produced)—I went to the shop—I saw the prisoner and asked him if he knew that the coin was bad—he said, "I am not in the habit of passing bad coins." We tested the coin and found it bad—Mr. Maybank gave him in charge.

Cross-examined. I do not know whether? should have been deceive if I had not tested it—you said you were only? poor man and that 5s. would be a heavy loss.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these coins are counterfeit and both from the same mould.

Prisoner's defence: I get my living by selling things in the street. Late one evening two gents bought two sticks of me, giving me 5s. in payment, and I gave them change. I did not know it was bad.

ALFRED ATKINS (Re-examined.) The prisoner has been in custody since April 1st—he then had no whiskers or beard.

GUILTY .—There were numerous other convictions against him, and he had 274 days to serve of a former sentence. Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18980425-321

321. DENIS MAHONEY (23) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit Coins.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

GEORGE JOHN BOTT . I am the landlord of the Barley Mow beer.

house, New Gravel Lane, Shadwell—on Monday, March 21st, about 6 p.m., I served the prisoner with a penny screw of tobacco—he tendered this florin, which I showed to my wife, who passed it—I gave him full change and he went away—on Saturday, March 26th, the prisoner came and ordered a "half of four ale"—I recognised him as having passed the florin on the Monday—I delayed serving him and communicated with persons inside the bar, and sent for a constable—he put down what was represented as a shilling—I asked him how many more he had got like it—he looked at me very old-fashioned and said something—I cannot say what—I went to the other side of the bar—I afterwards tried the coin in the tester—the prisoner went out, I followed—we met the police and he was given into custody and charged—he produced some coin and said, "Is that bad?" and made "nasty" remarks—I told him about passing the florin—he said he was not in the neighbourhood, that he was at Gravesend—I handed these coins to the constable—I have not the slightest doubt the prisoner is the man.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I did not say you had passed the florin on the Thursday, and the shilling on the Friday—I said it was on the Monday—I traced the dates by their being near quarterday.

CHARLES TOMPKINS . I am barman at the Lord Nelson, Watney Street, outside Shadwell station—I served the prisoner on March 23rd, between 3 and 5 p.m., with a glass of ale—he tendered a florin—I took it to the manager, who broke it in two and returned the pieces to the prisoner, who was asked where he got it—he said he must have got it in his change over night, being drunk—I next saw him on the 28th, at King David's Lane Police-court, where I identified him as the man who came on the 23rd.

Cross-examined. I did not come in between two detectives and identify you out of four taller men—I came in with one and identified you out of six or eight men of average height by your face.

EDWIN POTTS . I live at the Barley Mow—I was serving in the bar and served the prisoner on March 25th between 3 and 4 p.m. with a pennyworth of tobacco—that is my home when I am in London—I am a master mariner—he tendered a shilling, which I placed by itself on the bar-parlour mantel-piece in place of two sixpences.

GEORGE JOHN BOTT (re-examined). Potts was serving on March 25th while I was in the bar parlour—he is a friend—I went to give change for a half sovereign from the bar-parlour mantel-piece when I found this bad shilling in place of two sixpences, which had been removed—our rule is in giving change to deposit money to the same amount.

JAMES ALLEN . I am barman at the Hoop and Grapes public-house, George Street, Shadwell—about two months ago I served the prisoner with a half of four ale—he tendered a sixpence—I bent it and threw it back to him and told him to take it somewhere else—he went away and I did not see him again till he was arrested, and picked him out of a lot of men at the Thames Police-court,

Cross-examined. Bott did not contradict me.

WILLIAM BUTLAND (188 H). I was called to Mr. Bott's house on March 26th—the prisoner was charged with uttering a counterfeit shilling—he said, "I gave an order and a shilling, but I did not "know" it

was a bad one"—Bott handed me this shilling—I searched the prisoner in the house—I found on him a shilling and two sixpences—at the station Bott said in the prisoner's presence that there was another uttering—the prisoner said he knew nothing about it.

Cross-examined. You handed me a shilling and two sixpences, and said you were willing to go to the station.

ROBERT MARSH (Police Inspector, H). I was on duty at the station when the prisoner was brought in on March 26th—he was charged with uttering on that day and on 21st and 25th—he said he knew nothing about them—as to the 25th he said, "I can prove I was not there"—I wrote this statement down at bin request—"I was twenty-one miles away from here last night, at Gravesend, at Townsend's lodging house at 5.30 p.m. I got to London at 11.30 p.m.—I went into three public-houses in Nicholas Street, Love Lane, and another in Cable Street. I gave the shilling to him"—pointing to Bott "I know nothing of the other coin"—later on Potts came in and made a statement—to that he said "I wish you to put down that Potts says it was between three and four in the afternoon. I was at Gravesend then. After I got back to London on 25th I got a drop of drink; I do not know where I went to"—he signed that—later on he made another statement, that "I further wish to say I was in the beer-house"—that is, Bott's—"half-an-hour before I was given into custody, I changed half-a-crown; the bad shilling must have been amongst the change. It was given to me by the witness Potts"—he signed that—on the Sunday I saw him in the cell—he spoke about Gravesend and said "I saw the gentleman who keeps the lodging-house. At 9.30 I went to the railway station, but the man would not give me a ticket, and I 'walked to London through the snow and without boots."

GEORGE TOWNSEND . I keep a lodging house at 4, Crooked Lane, Gravesend—I do not know the prisoner—I have never seen him to my knowledge.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . These coins are bad—the shillings are of different dates.

The prisoner, in his defence, said he did not suppose the proprietor of the lodging-house would know him. He changed the florin in paying for cigarettes at Mr. Bott's on the 26th, when he was charged; but the witnesses substituted Tuesday for Thursday and Friday, and the other houses he knew nothing about.

GUILTY †.— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18980425-322

322. THOMAS CLAKE (20) , Feloniously shooting at Frank Veale with intent to resist his lawful apprehension. Second Count.—With intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

MR. GRIFFITHS Prosecuted.

FRANK VEALE (444 D). About 12.40 a.m. on Friday last, April 23rd, I was in Upper Gower Mews with Police-constable Lapwood—a Post Office stands at the corner of Torrington Place and Upper Gower Mews—I saw the prisoner walk into the mews, go to the Post Office, and push the door with his hand—he looked up and down the mews and walked away into Torrington Place—I followed him and asked what he was doing—he said, "Nothing"—I asked him what his name was—he refused to

give it—I asked him to unbutton his coat—he refused—I did it for him—I found this carpenter's chisel in his right-hand breeches pocket—I handed it to Lapwood—as I was going to search his coat pocket he pulled out this seven-chamber revolver from his right-hand pocket and pointed it at my face—as he pulled the trigger I struck his hand on one side and it went off—I was holding him with my hand on his coat—I closed with him immediately—Lapwood struck him on the head and knocked him down—we had a desperate struggle with him—he was taken to the station and searched—he tried to fire again over his shoulder as I was at the back of him—when Lapwood struck him on the head he dropped the revolver and fell to the ground—at the station, on his being searched, I found this steel cold mason's chisel in the same pocket from which he had pulled the revolver, his right-hand coat pocket—it could be used as a jemmy to force a door—I found loaded ball cartridges in his top pocket, and two door keys and a pocket knife—six chambers of the revolver were loaded.

HENRY BROWN (Police Inspector). I was on duty in the early morning of Friday, April 23rd, when the prisoner was brought in by Veale and Lapwood—after I had taken the charge and read it to the prisoner, I said to him, "It is rather serious"—he said, "Yes, I know it is a serious thing, now I come to look at it; I did not fire at his head though, bat at his legs more than anything else."

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he did not attack the police, and did not mean to fire, but the revolver missed fire, and as he was going to put it back it went off accidentally, when the policeman knocked it back. He had PLEADED GUILTY to having possession of housebreaking instruments at night.

GUILTY Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18980425-323

323. ALBERT ROGERS (24) , Robbery with violence upon Edwin Taynton, and stealing 2s. 9 1/2 d., his money.

MR. AITOHRSON Prosecuted.

EDWIN TAYNTON . I am a french polisher, of 115, Cambridge Road, Kilburn—on March 22nd I was in the Cambridge Road about 12.40 a.m.—I saw three men, the prisoner was one, and one of them said something I did not catch—the prisoner struck me on the side of my head—I fell, and when on the ground he kicked me on the right side of my face, on my jaw—he put his hand in my pocket and took out 2s. 9£d.—I said, "You vagabond, you hare robbed me"—he went away with the other two men, and I followed him to Kilburn Park Road, where I lost him—there he suddenly sprung from a door-way and plunged something sharp in my left side—I had five wounds—I became unconscious, and found myself in St. Mary's Hospital—I had not challenged him to fight—I had had no fight with him that night—I next saw him at the police-court—I was in the hospital three weeks—I have not been able to work since.

Cross-examined by the prisoner. I had had a glass, but knew what I was doing—I did not strike you on your ear—I did not try to strike you. a second time—you did not knock my arm away—I did not follow you nor with friends attack you with a belt—I was alone—you did not run in a door-way for protection—I did not tell other men to go for you—I never struck anybody in the testicles in my life.

ERNEST BLANCHARD . I am a labourer, of 5, Chichester Mews—on the

evening of March 22nd I was coming down Exhibition Road—I saw two men fighting—the prisoner punched the other man (Taynton), who fell, and was kicked under the jaw—then the prisoner took some coppers out of Taynton's pocket—I picked Taynton up and stood him against the wall—the prisoner walked away—the prisoner had another man with him—I took Taynton away, left him and went towards home—when I had got to the Cambridge Road I saw the prisoner fighting Taynton again—Taynton ran over the road and asked me and another to help him—the prisoner walked on to the Kilburn Park Road and stood in a door-way—he ran from the door-way, threw off his coat, and said, "Where is my knife?" and stabbed Taynton five times with a pocket-knife—Taynton fell to the ground, became insensible, and was taken to the hospital dispensary by a stranger—a constable came and took the prisoner into custody.

Cross-examined. It was about 9.30 p.m. when I saw you knock Taynton down—you went towards Barnsbury Villas—I did not follow you—Taynton followed—I did not say at the Police-court that I and my friends took Taynton home and left him at his house—I afterwards saw the prosecutor in Cambridge Road—he was crossing to Carlton Vale.

GEORGE LADYMAN . I am a carman, of 107, Cambridge Road—on the evening of March 22nd I was at the corner of Cambridge Road—I saw the prisoner fighting Taynton—I don't know the "chap" who was with the prisoner—they walked together towards the Kilburn Park Road—the prisoner hid in a door-way—I saw him come out of the doorway, draw his pocket-knife and stab Taynton several times—Taynton fell to the ground, became insensible, and was taken to the hospital—they were the worse for liquor.

HENRY HARVEY . I am a carman, of 195, Cambridge Road—on March 22nd I was in Cambridge Road—I saw the prisoner and another man walking fast after Taynton, who ran over the road to ask me and another to look after him—we followed to the Kilburn Park Road, when the prisoner came out of a door-way and wanted to fight Taynton—they had a little fight, and the prisoner said, "Where is my knife?"—he took out his knife and stabbed the prosecutor several times—he fell to the ground.

HERBERT ROBERT POWER . I am house-surgeon at St. Mary's Hospital—on the early morning of March 22nd the prosecutor was brought to the hospital in a state of collapse—I examined him—I found five wounds on the left arm and in the region of the heart—two were superficial—there was a large swelling from suffused blood under the skin—from the loss of blood the wounds were serious—he was in danger, but is now out of it—he was an in-patient three weeks.

ELVIN EYE (156 X). On March 22nd I was on duty in the High Road, Kilburn, about 1.10 a.m.—having received information I went to Kilburn Park Road and saw five or six persons—the prisoner standing on the pavement with his coat off—the prosecutor, who was sitting down, and bleeding said, "I give this man in charge for stabbing me"—I arrested the prisoner—I took him to the station and searched him, and found 6d. in silver and 4d. in bronze—the prosecutor was taken to the hospital—this knife was picked up, and handed to me by Harvey—it was shut—blood

was on the point—when arrested the prisoner made no complaint against the prosecutor—he never suggested that the prosecutor had kicked him on the testicles.

CHARLES BURRIDGE (Police Inspector, X). On March 22nd I was in charge of the station at 3.30, when the prisoner was brought in—I told him he was charged with assaulting, and robbing Daynton of 2s. 9 1/4 d. at 9.30 p.m. on 21st—the prosecutor had told me—I said, "You will be further charged with stabbing Edward Daynton"—he said, "I know that; that is the knife you have got in your hand; it has got a hole through the centre."

Evidence for the Defence.

THOMAS PEPPER . On March 22nd, about 12.35 a.m., I was with Rogers, and two friends at the Red Lion public-house in the High Road, Kilburn—upon leaving, and about 150 yards down the road, Rogers went to make water—I next saw the prosecutor and Rogers having a few words—I heard the prosecutor say to Rogers, "If you are a man, take off your coat, and I will fight you"—Rogers took off his coat, and they had a scramble—that passed over and Rogers went away—as one of our friends was going in home Daynton came up and went for Rogers, was pushed him away—I did not see any stabbing nor the prosecutor fall to the ground—I know he was insensible and taken to the hospital—I did not speak to a policeman—I was too much upset, and had not the courage—I did not see anybody set on with a belt—I was called before the Magistrate—I am a carman—the prisoner is a French polisher.

Cross-examined. I went into the Red Lion at 7.15 and left at 12.30—I was smoking and in conversation—I was about six yards from the prosecutor and the prisoner when they met—I could see everything—I did not see the prisoner rush on the prosecutor with a knife.

ERNEST BLANCHAED (re-examined). I do not recognise Pepper—I did not take off my belt—I do not wear a belt—I was with two others and there were two more near who had nothing to do with us.


Reference Number: t18980425-324

324. ALFRED ROGERS was again indicted for feloniously wounding Edward Daynton with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.

The prisoner stated that he was >GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. GUILTY.—He received a good character.— Judgment respited.

THIRD COURT.—Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, April 28th, 29th and 30th, 1898.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-325

325. ROBERT BARTON (28) and GRACE ANDERSON (28) , Conspiring to defraud John Reeves and other persons. Other Counts—Obtaining money by false pretences.

MESSRS. J. C. MATHEWS, BODKIN, and BIRON Prosecuted, MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN and HUGHES appeared for Barton, and MR. MUIR for Anderson.

JOHN REEVES . I live with my father at 66, Anglesea Road, Plumstead—I am a florist's assistant—I am twenty years old—in October last I saw this advertisement in The Stage newspaper. (For amateurs and novices to complete caste of a first-class theatrical production just commencing tour, education and refinement essential; commencing salary; costum's provided; expenses paid by management; small deposit; interview by appointment; with full particulars, enclosing stamp, to address, Box Y 927, care of "Stage," London.) I intended to commence work on the stage, and so answered it—I have had previous experience in amateur acting at Plumstead—I received this circular in reply—(of Miss race Anderson's spectacular tour of the drama of "The Indian Mutiny," by the late Dion Boucicault.)—and on October 28th I wrote for an interview in the assumed name of "J. Elfod," by which I was known, and on October 29th, by appointment, I went to 27, Chesterton Road, Notting Hill, where I saw Barton—he said, "Your appearance is satisfactory; I am willing to engage you on these conditions, that you pay me the sum of three guineas"—he offered me a part in his company—he stated that they were going on a summer tour, and would be starting in about a month's time—I was to be engaged at 25s. a week—my parts were to be a "Serjeant" and "Sullivan" in The Campbells are Comin' and The Relief of Lucknow in "The Great Miss Anderson's Touring Company"—I made an appointment for the following Saturday, when my father, who went with me, paid him three guineas and got this receipt, which I saw him write—he showed us some press notices of his playing—he wrote out the parts of "The Serjeant" and of "Sullivan," and gave me the paper while I was there—he did not copy it from anywhere—he said Miss Grace Anderson was gone for a change of air to the seaside, and that he would supply me with a Serjeant's costume smothered with gold lace—he asked for my measurements, and my father afterwards sent them—I took my part away and learnt it thoroughly in about two weeks—I was not still at work as a florist, so that I had leisure—I wrote to him afterwards and called about the middle of November—he said there was something wrong with the measurement of my uniform, and he would take me to the costumier—I never got any costume—my father wrote to him, and I got this letter—I did not wish to resign. (The letter stated: "Do I understand you wish to resign your engagement? If so, kindly say so; so that I may inform Miss Anderson.") I never saw him again, nor got any communication from him—I received a post-card notice from Acton of a rehearsal, after I had seen this case reported in a newspaper—I did not go to Acton—I have had no part of the three guineas back—these parts are out of The Campbells are Comin' and The Shaughraun, but I understood from Barton they were in the same play.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. Barton never told me that one part was from The Campbells are Comin', and the other out of The Shaugh-raun—I did not ask him what piece the "Serjeant" nor "Sullivan" came in—I never heard The Shaughraun played—Barton read over the parts to me in five or ten minutes—on one occasion he taught me how to act them—I had asked by letter for the return of my money—I cannot tell you when—I got an answer stating if my money was returned my engagement

was at an end—I said under those circumstances I was content to wait—The Colleen Bawn was not mentioned to me—I did not know what period the plays referred to, but I heard there was no such a play as The Campbells are Comin'—several professional friends told me—I still contemplate going on the stage—I simply applied as a learner, and Barton told me he would show me how to walk the stage and to act.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I had consulted my father before the three guineas was paid, when he was with me—father read the receipt to me—I understood the tour might be postponed, and that if it was I could have my deposit back again.

JOHN REEVES . I am the father of the last witness—I live at 66, Angle sea Road, Plumstead—I am a carpenter—in December my son showed me an advertisement, and afterwards going with him to 27, Chesterton Road, I paid three guineas and received this receipt—I afterwards wrote Barton, and received this letter of November 23rd, asking if my son wished to resign—the pencil on the back is the draft of my reply, in answer to which I got the letter of November 27th from Barton (stating that the tour was postponed)—I afterwards went and saw Barton at Chesterton Road—he said Miss Anderson had lost a relative and was unwell and had gone to Bank Top, Appleby Bridge, near Wigan, for her health; he wrote on this paper the address—I did not know my son had written for his money back—I asked him for the address—I wrote and asked him if the tour was postponed for the money to be returned—he said if I wrote to Miss Anderson no doubt she would give the money back, and that he was merely the manager and had sent it to her—my son knew of my visit.

Cross-examined by Mr. MUIR. I got Miss Anderson's address on January 22nd with a view of writing her for the deposit—I saw the case in the paper a fortnight afterwards—I did not write because Barton said the tour would come off very shortly, and he advised me not to write, but said I could do so to satisfy myself.

HENRY ALBERT WEBSTER . I live at Bushey House, Comerford Road, Brockley—I have been a professional comedian for the last four years—my professional name is "Bert Cramer"—I answered this advertisement in The Stage newspaper on November 11th for amateurs and novices—I was an amateur to the theatrical stage—I know more of the musichall stage and singing—I received a reply and afterwards went to 27, Chesterton Road, and saw Barton—after asking my name, he said he was the business manager to Miss Grace Anderson, that The Campbells are Comin' was going to commence, and he wanted ladies and gentlemen to complete the caste for that tour of about six months; that part of the tour would be in Ireland, but he did not mention any places—he said Miss Anderson was indisposed, and at Southport—I said in my letter I liked a comedy part, and he said the part she had was second low comedy, and I presume he wished me to take that part—I afterwards saw the part—he said he required a deposit of three guineas in consequence of someone having on the eve of the last tour said he could not play and should return to London, and that spoiled the piece—the tour was to commence about Christmas—I called again on November 22nd, paid the

deposit and signed this agreement—(To perform the parts allotted at a salary of 26s. a week, Miss Anderson paying travelling expenses: if tour abandoned, deposit to be returned; and if the witness failed, the deposit to be forfeited)—I afterwards communicated with Barton from time to time—I had then received no requests to attend rehearsals—I called once or twice—he said Miss Anderson was still indisposed—he gave me her address on a paper, which I have at home—it was Random Cottage, Bank Top. Appleby Bridge, near Wigan—I wrote to that address about eight days afterwards and got this reply of February 4th. 1898—(apologising for the delay, and hoping the witness would not throw one more vacancy on her hands to Jill, as he had been most patient, but would wait a short time longer)—I wrote to Barton this letter of January 9th—(stating he was getting anxious)—and this letter of 3rd February—(expressing surprise at receiving no answer; and complaining that the delay was wearying)—and a few days later to Miss Anderson—my reply had the Wigan post-mark on it—I was to take the second low comedy part of "Sweeney"—Barton went over the part with me—I also received parts in The Colleen Bawn and in The Shaughraun from him—we had four or five rehearsals at 12, Essex Road, Acton—I got notice of rehearsals after Barton's arrest—he was on bail—two ladies and two gentlemen took part—Miss Anderson was present, but took no part—the rehearsal was in a room upstairs—we had the parts in our hands—each did our own, and Barton read the absent ones—Barton said there were contracts with the Theatre Royal, Goole, and the Theatre Royal, Shrewsbury, and the Theatre Royal, Colchester—I brought the parts to the South-Western Police-court—I saw Barton there—March 7th was fixed for The Colleen Bawn and The Shaughraun to commence before Barton's arrest—I was not shown any costumes.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I have heard, and have no reason to doubt, that Barton has had considerable experience in stage-craft, and that he was in Harry Monkhouse's company—he gave me valuable hints, and I am satisfied with him—to postpone a tour is a common thing—Barton told me if it had not been for his arrest he would have commenced on March 7th—professionals are not engaged till a week or a few days before the tour, as they do not require coaching like amateurs—some parts are given to two persons because an understudy is necessary in case of illness or accident—I flatly deny that I have been defrauded—I attend on subpœna—I never commenced any proceedings.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. A forfeiture clause is usual in both the music-hall and theatrical stage—it depends upon the salary—a certain percentage upon it—I considered the deposit only natural.

Re-examined. I am not engaged now on either stage—I have had one or two turns since seeing Barton's advertisement—I attended at Acton four rehearsals, and once on a private matter when Barton was at the Police-court—I went to tell her that the Public Prosecutor had the case in hand, and that I had been subpoened, but did not wish to give evidence nor to prosecute, nor have I any intention to do so—she merely told me to speak the truth and say what I knew—I have made no statement since the adjournment—I have spoken to my aunt and Miss Hayes, who are witnesses.

LILY SMITH . I am a single woman, of 17, Cressington Road, Stoke

Newington—I answered the advertisement The Stage and received this answer of November 24th from 27, Chesterton Road—(Offering 25s. a week and travelling expenses and requiring a deposit of three guineas, to be returned or forfeited in accordance with agreement)—I sent the deposit of three guineas from my home in Stafford, and received this acknowledgement for it and my measurements, which I had sent—I then received my part in a copy-book, and the agreement, which I signed, and returned with the three guineas—I was to play "Jessie" in The Campbells are Comin'—I was perfect in my part in about a week—as I did not hear anything more about the tour I went to 27, Chesterton Road—I saw the landlady and was told to come back in an hour—I called again, and after waiting five minutes Barton took me into a room and introduced me to Miss Anderson—he said he was sorry, but he had written a letter which would reach my home by the time I got back; my visit was unexpected; he would have to put me off three weeks because a gentleman was too ill to travel, but he would pay my fare back to Stafford—I preferred to stay in London, and did so for a month or five weeks, awaiting the gentleman's recovery—I received this letter of January 5th—(stating that rehearsals were impossible for another fortnight)—when I went to see my mother I received another letter that they were unable to commence rehearsals as soon as anticipated—in about three weeks I called again—they had gone—I communicated with the police the same day, and subsequently embodied I my complaint in an information—I never got any notice of rehearsal—I gave one letter to the police unopened.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I had had eighteen months' experience in a minstrel touring Group—I was wearing my hair down when I called on the prisoners—I was staying with relations in London—I promised to write as to where I was stopping—I did not do so for mere than a week—they wrote to my mother because they could not get my London address—my mother wrote and told me so before I went to the police—the landlady told me they might call for letters—she did not ask me to write them—she did not say if I wrote a letter they would get it—she might have said so—I went to the police because I could not find out their address—I complain of not receiving my money back—I never asked for it, because they said if I threw up my engagement I should have to forfeit the money—the landlady told me they had left no address—she said they might call for letters—I could not say I was not to play the part of "Alice"—I have the part at home, not here—I learnt it all through—my part is underlined.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I was to be prepared for rehearsals about January 3rd—I left my home in Stafford about 5.45 a.m., before the letter of January 1st would reach me—I called on the prisoners' landlady between January 28th and February 5th—I asked if any letters came—she said "Yes, and that they might call for them"—it was the daughter who came to the door—I arranged to call at Blenheim Lodge, Blenheim Crescent—they wrote me after I had given my information—Palfrey told me not to go.

Re-examined. I never heard of any other play of the prisoners than The Campbells are Comin'—I was in communication with my mother while staying with my relations at Stoke Newington—since January 5th

I had one letter from the prisoners, directed at Stoke Newington, which I answered by a post-card—I had no notice of rehearsals, unless it was in the letter I gave up.

FLORENCE BROUGHTON ROUSK . I live at 9, Ellington Street, St. Lawrence, Ramsgate—I answered an advertisement which I saw in The Stage, and got a reply, in consequence of which I went to 27, Chesterton Road—I assumed the name of "Lorna Done"—Barton said he could offer me an engagement in Miss Anderson's company, which was going on tour, at a salary of 25s. a week, all costumes provided, and that I could have a five-guinea pink silk dress, covered with paste diamonds, which, if I failed in my engagement, I should have to pay for altering; but he would find the dress, and I was to be coached free of charge—I would have to pay five guineas deposit, which would be returned to me with my first week's salary of 25s.—I was to play in The Campbells are Comin'—this is the part and my cue is "A pretty girl by your side"—I wrote three times before I could get it—the tour was to commence January 24th or the first week in February—Barton paid Miss Anderson was resting—at Southport, I think—but was coming to London shortly, and I could see her—I came up from Ramsgate and stayed at a boarding house with friends—Barton questioned me and I told him I did not know about the stage, but I wished to go on and that I knew Mr. George Wilburn's company—I had only practiced charades, and so on, at parties—he said he wanted to see if I was in earnest and really wished to join a company—I paid him 10s., which he said he would return when I paid the five guineas—he gave me a receipt;—I carried about in my purse and lost one document signed by Barton—another I gave to Palfrey to-day—I put all I had together and gave them up—later on I called and saw the female prisoner, who, I was told, was Mrs. Barton—she was sitting writing—she got up and went out a few minutes after Barton came into the room—he said he was getting ready to call upon me to see me—I had called in the morning when Barton was out at Terriss's funeral and had given the lady a cheque for five guineas—I was told he would not be in till 4.30, so I called again and signed the paper and got this receipt for five guineas—I did not ask for the 10s. because I had not paid the five guineas deposit within the time stipulated—my father had drawn the agreement—(dated January 24th, 1898, and contained the forfeiture clause)—my father is a doctor of laws—I called once afterwards for my part, and, having arranged all things satisfactorily, I went home—I received this letter—(from 27, Chesterton Road, of January 21st, 1898, requesting her not to come to London till she received a call)—I wrote again for my part, and, having received a short part, I learnt the whole of it—I read the letter of February 17th, appointing Friday for rehearsal, after a letter for January 11th stating that rest was beneficial—I did not like being at Ramsgate in the winter time—hearing of this prosecution, on my father's advice I did not go further—I never heard of any other play than The Campbells are Comin'—I never got any part of my money back—I believed there was a Miss Grace Anderson's company when I parted with it, and that Barton was engaged forming a provincial tour; he looked such a swell—he impressed me favourably—he had a new

coat, white waistcoat, and button boots—I never knew who the female prisoner was, other than Mrs. Barton.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. My father was a solicitor and commissioner for oaths, but he has retired—on February 18th, 1898, he had a plate on his door—all my proceedings with Barton were known to my father—he advised me all through—I never asked for the return of my deposit—I wrote and grumbled about the delay once or twice, when I signed myself "Lorna Doone"—I did not say at the Police-court "I never complained about the delay"—Barton told me to call for my part before I went home, but I had not time to call again and catch my train—Barton wrote and told me they had gone to Blenheim Lodge—the second interview we discussed the colour of a dress to suit my complexion—green would not suit me—I suggested pink—no one suggested I should prosecute—my father advised me to have nothing to do with it and to wait.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I handed four or five documents to the police—I do not know what has become of them—I had notice from Barton of his change of address.

GEORGE FREDERICK WALDEN . I live at 6, Primrose Place, Birmingham—I have no occupation—last November I was an assistant in the grocery trade—I had had no experience in theatricals—I saw an advertisement in The Stage on December 2nd for vacancies—I replied and sent my photograph—I paid three guineas deposit, and signed this agreement of December 20th, 1897, to play in The Campbells are Comin' at 25s. a week—I was then in business at Chester—I could not say what my part was, that puzzled me—I applied for a part, and learnt it about a fortnight afterwards in a few evenings—alter some correspondence I saw this case in the newspaper, and I wrote the letter of February 18th, requesting the return of my deposit, to 27, Chesterton Road—I had seen no account of the change of address—I never got any part of my money back—this is a pencil draft of my letter to Anderson, which I wrote in my dinner hour—I got this telegram of February 21st at Chester: "Write where I shall remit you, Anderson"—it was re-directed from Chester to Birmingham—I answered it, but did not post the letter—I was summoned by the Treasury—I gave my address as 6, Primrose Place, Birmingham.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. In my agreement the rehearsals were to begin on or about February 14th—before that I saw the prisoners had been arrested—I told the prisoners I should have to leave my address, but not where I was going, because they were to send to me before I left—I said in a letter to Anderson if I got five guineas I would say nothing about it—it was when I saw the case in the paper—the two extra guineas was for loss of time and inconvenience.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I was anxious, and in communication for another, engagement—when I saw the case in the paper—before February 14th—I did not inform the defendants of that.

Re-examined. I had not taken any engagement on February 14th—I kept myself free about a week, when I was engaged in Birmingham in my own trade, because I thought there was no chance with the defendants—I gave up my birth in consequence of the theatricals—I was receiving 22s. a week—I am living in lodgings—I have left my place.

MAUD COX . I live at 12, Edward Road, Rotherithe—I saw the advertisement

in The Stage, and answered it—I had had no experience in stage work at this time—I received this letter of December 22nd—(In Anderson's writing from 12, Essex Road, asking the witness to call at 27, Chesterton Road at 4 o'clock to-morrow signed "Margaret Huntley," and addressed to "Maud Collier")—"Collier" was my stage name—the next day I went to Chesterton Road and saw Barton—he told me, and I believed, he was her business manager—he said the tour would commence about the end of February and last about five months—he said Miss Huntley was a wealthy woman,—he said I should suit him; that he had known her for some years—on December 24th I called again and received the agreement produced—I saw Miss Huntley—Barton wrote the agreement while I was there—he introduced me to the lady as Miss Huntley—I was to play in The Colleen Bawn and The Shaughraun—I signed one part and I saw Barton sign the other—(for the witness to pay a deposit of ten guineas to receive thorough instruction in stage-craft and an engagement in a fir fit-class touring company at £1 a week, and containing the forfeiture clause)—it was Margaret Huntley's company who were going out—I sent the next day a P. O. for £1, and on the 29th a second £1—I received a receipt—I paid the balance, £8 10s., on the 31st—I received the agreement by letter—I received instructions from Barton twice a week until within a few weeks of his arrest—the lessons lasted from three to four hours—the tour did not start—Barton was under arrest.

Cross-examined by Mr. GEOGHEGAN. Detective Palfrey invited me to give evidence—he told me he would arrest me unless I came—I was perfectly satisfied with Barton—I do not know that I got my ten guineas worth, but I did as far as it has been in his power to give it—I consider he gave me a great insight into acting and matters connected with the stage—I do not complain—I do not prefer any charge against these persons—Barton told me he was negotiating with the theatres at Goole, and Colchester, and Shrewsbury—I was given a part to play in The Colleen Bawn of "Cregan," and I was letter perfect—my lessons went on until the defendants were arrested—they wrote and informed me of their change of address from 27, Chesterton Road to Blenheim Road—I went to Blenheim Road—I received lessons in Blenheim Road and Chesterton Road—they showed me letters and a contract with the Goole Theatre—they told me they were getting posters for billing the tour—I never asked for my money back.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. The agreement says the tour was to commence about February 8th, and I was to give a fortnight's previous rehearsals, of which I was to have written notice—this is a likeness of Miss Huntley (produced)—that is the female prisoner.

Re-examined. I was not shown any dresses, wigs, or properties—I had one lesson at Blenheim Lodge—I do not remember anything about The Campbells are Comin'—I was not in any employment—I was living with my family—I have not since had employment—I am still living with my family.

EMILY FOSTER . I live at 27, Chesterton Road, North Kensington, and let apartments—the defendants occupied, at 13s. a week, two rooms in the house, from October 28th to January 28th—the whole of that time the female prisoner was living with Mr. Barton—she was not ill and no

away—I understood from Mr. Barton that he was agent for Miss Anderson—I was never introduced to Miss Anderson—I never heard the female prisoner called Miss Anderson—eight or nine letters a day came addressed to Mr. Barton or Miss Grace Anderson—if I cook them in I handed them to Barton—he said he was in the theatrical line, and was agent for Miss Grace Anderson—both men and women came to see them—the rooms were a bed-room and a dining-room on the ground floor—no name was on the door—it is a private house—I gave them notice—I let the rooms to a gentleman—they went to Blenheim Crescent—they left their address—"Blenheim Lodge"—they said that if any letters came in the next day or two they would send, which they did, and I handed them to them—when they left they had three large dress-baskets and one trunk—I only saw them when they came for the letters for about two days after—I do not remember Miss Smith coming—I have seen her here, but did not recognise her—I have two daughters, who sometimes open the door, but I generally answer it myself.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I thought they were man and wife, or I should not have let them the rooms—they were occupied till very late at night in giving lessons and coaching people for the stage—till nine or ten p.m.—Mrs. Barton asked for my piano to be moved into their room that she might practise singing—I declined because of my daughter—I had no complaint to make against them—my rent was regularly paid—I told the landlord of Blenheim Lodge what I knew of them—that they always paid me—Blenheim Lodge is within five minutes walk of my house—he came the day after they left—they were very comfortable lodgers, but they were going on tour, and the gentleman who took the rooms was to be a permanent lodger."

ANNIE SOAMES . I am the wife of Edward Soames, of Blenheim Lodge, Blenheim Crescent—I remember the defendants coming on January 28th—they gave the names of Mr. and Mrs. Barton—they took a sitting-room and bed-room on the dining-room floor, leading into one another, at £1 a week—they remained till they were arrested on February 5th at my house—the female was never away for a night.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. They did not take my rooms for a permanency, but for a few weeks, as they were going on tour—Barton told me he was coaching his pupils for the tour—he was occupied in coaching them for a ample of hours or more—they told me they belonged to the theatrical profession.

Cross-examined by Mr. MUIR. Mrs. Barton had the use of the piano—the actual rent was 16s., and there was 2s. for gas and 2s. for coal—after the police had been, an old hamper was left with a few things in it—the police looked through it—they simply consisted of small articles of wearing apparel, and not, as far as I know, of any letters—it was all turned out on the floor in my presence—the other things were taken away—I saw the room where Barton was arrested—there was a table with writing materials upon it, and stationery like this produced (circulars).

ARABELLA HAYES . I am the wife of Mr. John Hayes, of 12, Essex Road, Acton, and the sister of Miss Grace Anderson—my husband is a warehouse-man's assistant—the female prisoner is my sister—her married name is

Alice Maria Jenkins—her maiden name was Hunt—I believe her husband is alive, but I do not know where he is—I have known Barton more than six months—my sister went on tour with him—she had been on tour before I knew him—I knew him through his being associated with my sister—she found employment on the stage—I knew of her engagement two years ago—I do not know in what part—I am not my sister's keeper, and she did not inform me of everything—she told me it was a leading part in The Wild Irish Boy—I did not take the date—I could not say if it was two years ago—she has played several parts, but I cannot say what nor when they were payed—she played in the provinces—she continued on the stage—I have not been much in communication with her within the last two or three years—I have heard from her occasionally—I was present at her marriage with Jenkins about seven years ago—I cannot say how long they lived together as man and wife, or if he was a photographer—I believe they lived together eighteen months or two years—she took to the theatrical profession about three years ago—I knew her as "Grace Anderson"—I cannot say if she has only that name—site did not tell me her business—"Margaret Huntley "was the name she was going to take out the present tour by—she changed the name for private reasons—must I answer?—the reason was because relations were going to exist between Barton and her and she preferred to be known as "Miss Margaret Huntley"—there was an arrangement to use my house, and she was going to give my address for letters when on tour—I occupy the whole house—I made the arrangement with her—it was to be the permanent address for letters—no part of the arrangement was made with Barton—she has stayed with me when she has been in town—in November and December last year she did not stay at my house—letters came for "Miss Margaret Huntley "—none came in the name of "Miss Anderson"—Barton called there—rehearsals have taken place at my house since the arrest—I cannot say how many rehearsals were held there—my maid opened the door—I have seen this photograph of my sister before—she was going to take the part of "Eily" in The Colleen Bawn—I have heard of The Campbells are Comin, but it is called Jessie Brown—Jessie Brown was one of the relieved at Lucknow—I could not say from whom I heard it—my sister told me she was going to play in The Campbells are Comin'—she was going to take that play out on tour in the first instance—my sister told me it would take too much money to dress it on the stage, and the company would take out The Colleen Bawn and The Shaughraun instead of it, as the dresses were not so expensive—she is my youngest sister she said she was going to a costumier—Smith's was mentioned as one who was going to dress The Colleen Bawn.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGEGAN. I knew Mr. Edward Smith, a theatrical costumier, of Arthur Street, New Oxford Street—that is he—he dressed that tour.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I do not know where my sister's husband is—he is away—I do not suppose he will ever be seen again—when I was on tour with my sister The Colleen Bawn was being played—it was successful to the best of my belief—we got our salaries—I went on tour four or five years ago—after my marriage—I am also a professional musician and vocalist—my sister was in the same company—she was not a novice—

Barton conducted the tour—at that time I did not know of my sister's illicit relations with Barton—I do not know whether those relations are of a recent date—Barton is a good actor and a good stage manager.

Re-examined. My sister's earnings were more than two guineas a week—if she ever accepted 15s. a week it would be a joint engagement.

GEORGE WEBB PERKIS . I am assistant manager to The Stage news-paper—these five advertisements were inserted between November, 1897, and February, 1898—one was handed over the counter, the others received by post—one for December 27th is in the name of "Huntley." (These were the advertisements referred to by the witnesses for novices and amateurs, etc., to fill vacancies in a theatrical company about, to commence a tour, &c.)

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. We had sometimes about a column and a half of similar advertisements, and for someone to finance companies about to commence a tour—I have edited The Stage for about eight years—I have seen Barton at the office, spoken to him, and been with him in the street—he is a well-known actor—I do not know Smith, a costumier—I know something about starting touring companies—it is not unusual to postpone theatrical tours—about 2,000 advertisements pass through my hands every week.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. Managers of provincial theatres grumble about the practice of employing amateurs and novices, but it is practised because it is cheaper—professionals are engaged sometimes as late as three days before the tour commences.

Re-examined. The Era is the senior paper, and has about two columns more advertisements of each class than we have—The Stage has more a provincial than a London circulation—the practice of theatrical tourists is to secure the theatres and the actors, and then to advertise the tour—the expression in the circular, "Scenery and effects carried," means that it is the property of those undertaking the tour, and is an inducement for country managers of theatres to engage the company—they lay stress upon special scenery, and bill it about the town, and it attracts the people—that might be the property of the touring company, or might be hired.

JOHN PALFREY (Police Serjeant, X). About 4.30 p.m. on February 5th I went to Blenheim Lodge, Netting Hill, with a warrant for the prisoners arrest—I asked Barton if his name was Robert Barton, he said "Yes," I read the warrant to him—it charged him with unlawfully and knowingly obtaining, by means of false and fraudulent pretences, the sum of £3 3s. from Lily Smith with intent to cheat, and defraud—I then said, 'Is Miss Grace Anderson in?" he said, "No, she is not here"—I said, "She was" here last night"—he said "No, she is at Appleby Bridge; why don't you try there?"—he was about to speak and I cautioned him and said I should search the room—I did so and found letters and memoranda—he said, "Why I only wrote this afternoon to Miss Smith. A man came here the night before last and wanted his money back; he made a great row and said he had been to the police, and that they had a number of complaints, I followed him and gave him his money back "—I said, "Yes, I know the man came to you and told you the police were making inquiries"—I believe the man's name was Coningbeare—

he said, "I knew we should not start The Campbells are Comin', the Anderson business. I have paid some of the money back. We have advertised since in The Stage. Our advertisement is in this week"—Barton went into the back bed-room, leading from the sitting-room, with me, and from what I saw there—some women's clothes—I called the landlady, and told her I should search the house—I searched the house—in the back room on the second floor I saw the female prisoner sitting in front of the fire reading—I asked her if her name was Grace Anderson—she said, "Yes"—I told her I was a police officer, and read the same warrant; both were included—she said, "Quite so"—I told her she would have to dress and accompany me to the Police-station, and we went down stairs into the dining-room where Barton was—she went to Barton, who said, "We are in a nice trouble, darling"—Anderson said, "How foolish of Miss Smith to charge us," and went to the landlady in the bed-room—after she left the room Anderson said, "I would rather suffer twelve months than anything should happen to my dear little wife; in fact, I wish we were in America, where there is lynch law. There! how unjust the world is! I have been taking pupils and coaching them for parts, and paying back with their money what we had for the Anderson piece"—they were then taken to the Police-station and formally charged—Barton, after he was searched, said, "Five minutes before the magistrate will explain everything"—or "all"—on Barton I found a sovereign in gold, 8s. 9d. silver, and 1s. 8 1/2 d. bronze, 18 pawntickets, and a number of memoranda in a purse—from Anderson I received a purse, 9d. in silver, 7d. in bronze, and a number of papers—I went back to the house, made a search, and took possession of a trunk and two theatrical baskets, and one small basket, a large number of letters addressed to R. Barton and Grace Anderson, Margaret Temple, Mr. and Mrs. Lockyer, receipts for Advertisements in The Stage, and samples of posters for The Colleen Bawn—the female took what clothing she required from the basket, and the rest is in Court—I found a number of male costumes.

By MR. GREOGHEGAN. I said before the Magistrate that I had had large experience of the stage—I have had considerable experience, and my relations are connected with the stage—these costumes are theatrical.

Examination continued. I found a stage dagger, umbrella and shillalah, and among the papers a letter from the Theatre Royal, Goole, offering a date, March 7th, and their agreement for 65 per cent, of the gross receipts, and the letters from the theatres at Longden, Shrewsbury, and Colchester, as well as the posters and agreements for services, this policeman's helmet and the other property (produced)—while this case was at the Police-court it was undertaken by the Director of Public Prosecutions at the Magistrate's suggestion—the Information was from Miss Smith—the second day Mr. Lewis appeared for the Treasury—up to that time the police were conducting the case without professional assistance, the first hearing being merely the reading of the warrant—I did not find the property, scenery and dresses found in the circular, nor any Serjeant's uniform, pink dresses with paste diamonds, or anything of the kind.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I searched the house on three

different occasions—I found the contract with the Goole Theatre in Barton's pocket—I found one letter from Allen's, the theatrical printer of Belfast, of February 3rd, on the dining-room table—their firm is one of the best—Barton made a gesture as he spoke, and put his arm up, and said he would sooner lose his hand than anything should happen to Miss Anderson.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. I found a hook containing addresses (produced) and with appointments day by day—I have made inquiries as to some of them—some are witnesses—I have communicated with three—I think one complained and applied for the deposit, which was not returned—I believe the name was Cooper—the Treasury selected the canes—I believe there was the matter of distance to be considered—the letter came from Blackburn—there was a type-written letter from a Mr. Wallis—there are between fifty and sixty addresses in the book—I see Charles Brown, of Abbey Grove, Bolton—I did not communicate with him—I see Mary Kenyon, Liskeard—I think her address was London—I did not communicate—I cannot remember all the names—we had a photograph of one—I communicated with Louie Linton, of Gunnersbury Mansions, West Kensington—Dr. Murray, of Manchester, wrote to the police—I made a note of the arrest ten minutes after the prisoners were in the cells—about one hour and forty minutes after the arrest—when I read the warrant to her, Anderson said "Yes, quite so"—she bowed—that was before I told her she would have to go to the station—I have refreshed my memory by my note, and I am sure my impression is correct.

Re-examined. I found fifty or sixty of these posters—they all refer to The Colleen Bawn and The Shaughraun—Conybeare was subpœaed, but yesterday morning he had left his address, with his belongings, and left a message that he had gone to join a theatrical company.

By MR. GEOGHEGAN. Conybeare was not called at the Police-court—this case was postponed from last Sessions—Conybeare was the only witness to call—I do not know why he was not called—if the trial had taken place last Sessions he would have been—his additional evidence was prepared and served on the solicitors for the defence—we had the greatest difficulty to get him to the Police-court—he had to be watched—he was to play the part of "Sweenie" and "The Serjeant"

Evidence for the Defence.

EDWARD JAMES SMITH (by MR. GEOGHEGAN). I am a theatrical and fancy costumier, of 2, Arthur Street, New Oxford Street, London, established for twenty years—I have known Barton for eight or nine years—I have done business with him eight years—I have known him as an actor at the Marylebone, Elephant and Castle, Novelty, and Salder's Wells Theatres—I have supplied him with costumes for plays and sketches repeatedly—his dealings have been satisfactory—he is a good actor, especially as "Miles" in The Colleen Bawn—he is a better actor than a financial manager, who, if not acute, is likely to get robbed—he has mentioned to me the plays of The Shaughraun, Colleen Baton and Jessie Brown—I dressed The Colleen Bawn for him four years ago—in the profession that means finding all the costumes, wigs and properties required, including shillalahs, guns, swords, etc., but not scenery—he has recently very frequently come into my shop

for grease, paints, and that sort of thing, and talked about "boiling down" plays for provincial tours, where the parts, dresses and properties are considerably cut down—he asked for the three pieces what notice I required—that was last autumn or the summer—I told him three or four days, because I have the stuff in stock, and have dressed it repeatedly—that would apply to The Campbells are Comin'—usually we are paid a month in advance, but I said to him, "Don't let the money stop your taking out the piece, conditionally that I know all the towns you are booked for, and you pay at the end of the week," otherwise I should take the stuff back again—I did not require a deposit from him, as he was an old customer—he said he should take out some amateurs, and they would take a lot of coaching before he would allow the piece to go on tour; that it was difficult to get them together, and he could not give me the exact date when he would be able to inform me about the dresses—I required him to put on the bills and programnes, "Wardrobe, wigs, etc., supplied by Edward James Smith, Arthur Street, Oxford Street"—I produce copy of programme of The Shaughraun, which I have dressed this week for the St. George's Rifles—if ordered, I could supply the same to-night.

Cross-examined. The talk about the tour was a general conversation—I considered I was going to have the "job"—something light would do for the besieged in Lucknow—amateurs have funny ideas of dressing—the ladies would be dressed very nicely—I do not know that pink silk and diamonds would be correct—I had no order for a Serjeant's uniform—it might be for burlesque—I do not know that I have heard of Miss Grace Anderson in connection with Barton—he said the tour was going to last some time—we had not arranged the price—it would be about 30s. a week for The Shaughraun, and 50s. for The Colleen Bawn, the full caste, without the supers; we double for them—I supplied him with dresses some months ago, and an Irishman's dress—I think he bought that right out.

Re-examined. He said the "start" would depend upon his rehearsals—on tours you make things do, and you can hire anything—the cost of scenery, lime light, and necessaries of putting The Shaughraun on the stage would be about £5 a week—The Colleen Bawn about the same—you could utilise the same scenes with very little alteration, and there would be stock scenery in the theatre—a touring company may start with very little money, and become a great success—very likely, after the Gordon Highlanders have distinguished themselves in India, The Siege of Lucknow would "take on."

MARIE KENYON (by MR. GEOGHEGAN). I live at 13, Massey Park, Liskeard, Cheshire—I have never been on the stage—in consequence of seeing an advertisement in The Stage, I saw the prisoner Anderson in Manchester about the end of October—I came to an agreement with her to join her company—parts were allotted to me in The Colleen Bawn and The Shaughraun—I paid a deposit of three guineas—because of another engagement I wrote for my deposit back—I received it on January 29th, in London—she was in London—I could not wait any longer, and she could not give me a definite date—the tour was to commence about a

month or two months after the agreement was drawn up—about November.

DORA VERNON (by MR. GEOGHEGAN). I live at 2, Lothian Road, Hailstone Park, Leicester—I came into communication with Miss Anderson in August last, I think, and continued in correspondence with her till, I believe, October last—I sent her two guineas by post to take a part in her company in The Shaughraun—the money was returned to me my post about October or November—I never asked her for it—I wanted to return it, so as to continue—I have no complaint.

Cross-examined. I have been "extra lady "on the stage for a week—I studied "Hearty O'Neil," a girl's part—the reason given in her letter was the tour was postponed.

DAVID MURRAY (By MR. GEOGHEGAN). I live at 8, Chester Street, Manchester—I answered an advertisement and came up to 27, Chesterton Road, London, the latter part of last year—I came to an arrangement with Barton and Anderson—I paid £3 deposit and got a receipt—I had not the odd shillings—the deposit was returned to me without my asking for it about the latter end of January last, not February, because I returned to Manchester in February—I have come from Manchester to give evidence.

Cross-examined. I was doing nothing when I answered the advertisement—I was in a printing office—I have had great amateur experience—in fact, professional experience—I was connected with minstrels—I was to play "Georgie Macgregor," a soldier, in The Campbells are Comin'—I got the part before I came to London—I was to have 25s. a week—the tour was to commence about January 3rd—I came to London and saw Miss Anderson and she told me the tour would be postponed for another month through an unforseen circumstance—I think that was that the leading lady or gentleman was indisposed, or that the piece was too heavy to produce—she said something about changing the play—I wrote this letter—it represented my views at the time—(Dated February 11th, 1898, addressed to Serjeant Palfrey complaining that Anderson had cost him over £10, and that he had been imposed upon and had complained to her, and concluding "she then gave me my deposit back")—when I said the deposit was returned in January I was trusting to memory.

Re-examined by MR. MUIR. I came to London on Sunday, January 2nd—I was told the rehearsals had been put off—a letter had missed me—it was sent after me, and I found it had reached Manchester on the Monday morning—I remained a month in London, when I was told the tour could not yet commence—I wrote to Palfrey, because I was angry at having to return to Manchester to my swell companions without having a show—the letter was written mostly from dictation, and rather exaggerated my views—at Chesterton Road I threatened Anderson with the police—she said all her dealings were above board—I got the money there from her personally—I gave her a receipt for it.

ROSIE RAY . I am an actress—I live at 61, Cornwall Road, Bayswater—my sister, Patsie Ray, lives with me—we work as "The Sisters Ray"—I answered an advertisement in The Stage in September last—I paid £3 to Barton, and my sister £3—the tour was to commence in about a month—it did not commence—I asked for the deposit—I got it at once—it was

returned, I think, in November—I expressed a desire to give evidence here—I have nothing to complain of—the defendants were straightforward with me.

Cross-examined. I was to play in The Campbells are Comin' or The Relief of Lucknow—my sister and I had the parts of "Mary" and "Alice" to play, which we liked—there were rehearsals—the tour was put off because it was difficult to get the actors together—they said we might have other plays on the tour—our experience is at the music halls.

PATSIE RAY . I live with my sister—I have been on the music hall stage—my sister answered the advertisement—we saw Barton at Woolwich—at his apartments—we paid him £6, including my £3, in September—we were to play "Mary" and "Alice" in The Campbells are Comin'—we had our choice—the tour did not come off, and we asked for a return of the money—he gave it us at once at Chesterton Road—this is our receipt—we are still willing to go on tour.

Cross-examined. Our salary was to be 25s. a week each—we have sung at The Standard—Anderson asked us to call on Barton at Woolwich, where he was acting in The New World—he mentioned others were engaged—the tour was put off, because he could not get the company together—we were going on the pantomime at Christmas.

Re-examined. Barton was acting at the Artillery Theatre, Woolwich, in Nicholl's company—I saw that in The Stage—the Woolwich address was the one given to me.

JOHN PALFREY (re-examined by MR. MUIR). One person who applied for and did not get a return of the deposit wrote a letter from Blackburn that he would be pleased to come to London and give evidence—I find no letter from the Blackburn police or here that he has applied for his money and not got it—I found two such letters in the defendants' possession—there is but one envelope (produced)—I found among the documents this letter from Gertie Kenyon, the sister of a witness, applying for the return of her deposit, and these agreements (produced) showing Barton had been engaged in Harry Monkhouse's company two months ago; also a postcard from the Theatre Royal, Shrewsbury, of May 12th, 1897, and hundreds of press notices—these costumes were in the trunk—they might be used for The Colleen Bawn in the country.

Re-examined. I found no press notice referring to Grace Anderson; only of Barton, who has been an excellent Irish character actor of considerable experience.

BARTON.— GUILTY (see Sessions Paper for September, 1894).— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

ANDERSON.— GUILTY of conspiracy. The Jury recommended her to Mercy. Respited till the next Sessions.

NEW COURT.—Saturday, April 30th, 1898.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18980425-326

326. EDWARD CHARLES LUDWIG KRESSEL (32) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences £84 from Charles Frederick Augustus Warseny, with intent to defraud.

MR. KEMP, Q.C., Prosecuted, and MR. GRAIN and MR. PERL Defended.

WILLIAM NATION . I am cashier to Bennet and Co., engineers, of 107, Kingsland Road—on August, 22nd, 1896, the prisoner paid me £149 by a £100 note and a £50 note—I gave him a sovereign change, and paid the notes into the London and County Bank, Shoreditch—I do not know the numbers—the receipt is numbered 124—I have got the counterfoil of it—in June, 1896, I sold Kressel a book written by Mr. Shears, and published by our firm, price 3s. 6d,—I gave him this receipt, No. 59—I have got the counterfoil—it was for 3s. 6d. only, and was without a stamp.

Cross-examined. The word "three" and the "sixpence" were written by me—my date was June, but it is "August" now—the words "three and six" have been written since, but the figures are as I wrote them—so far as I know an account was sent in through the company.

CECIL MONTAGUE HUMPHREYS . I went into the prisoner's service in 1896 as office boy early in November—this is my writing at the back of this receipt—I wrote it during the first fortnight I was there—it was dated August 25th when I endorsed it—the prisoner told me to do so—I got it from him.

Cross-examined. I entered the service earlier than November 23rd—I received my first wages earlier than November 28th, they were paid weekly—Mr. and Mrs. Bassani were frequently in and out, and a man named Creppel—he assisted Mr. Kressel—I do not recollect Mr. or Mrs. Bassani taking the receipt away from the office in November—I never noticed that they took away papers—as far as I know, they were not taken away before I put ray endorsement on this—I cannot say whether I stayed over Christmas, because I had a long illness—I looked at the front of the receipt when I endorsed it, but cannot say whether there were any stamps—I had to look at the front for the date—I put it on the file.

CHARLES FREDERICK AUGUSTUS WARSAMY . I am a lithographic artist, of Spring Valley, High North Road, Finchley—I have known the prisoner since 1889—I lent him various sums, and in 1892 he gave me an I O U for £86 3s. 5d.—he went abroad about 1892—I saw him again in 1895—he showed me an extract, and asked me to advance money to get a patent for it—the first sum I advanced was in 1895, and on August 1st, 1896, he came again for £233 for machinery—I kept an accounts book, in which he wrote his name against the sums I advanced—on August 23rd I have an entry of £233; I drew the money in notes from the Birkbeck Bank, where I had an account, and £3 in gold—he signed for several items together—this pencil writing is his—at that time I was paying him weekly, sometimes £1, sometimes £2, and sometimes £1—I made entries of those sums, but not in this book—the first receipt is for £149, another is for £84 3s. 6d.—these marks in the corner of receipt C are his figures and he paid 3s. 6d. out of his pocket—on August 24th I advanced another £10 for registering the patent in my name—he gave me this receipt for it (produced), but I had to ask for it several times.

Cross-examined. I knew him as an intimate friend many years before I had transactions with him—we are both Germans—it was about November

14th, 1896, that I first had occasion to think he was a dishonest man, I then believed he had deceived me—on August 21st, 1896, he assigned to me his interest in these patents for the consideration of £400—we then came to a settlement of account—the balance of the £400 was in my favour, but we arrived at a balance before that date—I handed my solicitor this paper, showing a balance of £20—it is not correct that on August 26th, 1896, the total sum advanced would leave a balance of £65, which I had advanced to be paid to him—it is not true that by August 21st I found that £65 was due to him to make up the consideration money—I was Cross-examined on this very question by Mr. Carson in the libel action—I mean to say that on that date I did not pay the prisoner £60 or £65 to make the consideration money—I paid over £20—Mr. Kemp was my Counsel—he re-examined me, and we had settled up the accounts in August in some way, when I took the assignment, and on the same day I drew the cheque for £233—he was to take the £60, or whatever it was, out of the £233; but that wants explanation; my then solicitor, Mr. Shepherd, asked me what he had received, and there was a balance due to him of £60; but between those dates there was a long interval, and he received other money, and actually received more than £400—he said, "Never mind, you make up the balance between ourselves," and that is why I paid him the £20, and handed him £233 afterwards; that included the balance he had to apply for machinery—when I said that he had to take it out of the £233, I suppose I did not see the meaning of it—we came to an agreement to buy the patents for £100, and in order to see whether I had to pay him anything, we set to work to see how much I had lent him up to that date, and I found out in August that I had lent him more than £400—I gave my solicitor the materials to draw up an affidavit, and he read it before me—that affidavit was used in the Chancery proceedings, and judgment has been given—I did not advance the £400 for the machinery alone, nor did it include the £233—I do not say that the words "three and six" on this receipt for £84 3s. 6d. are in Kensett's writing, nor is the "three and six" in figures, they are the prisoner's, and so is the "70," and the "14," and "August," and the writing on the stamp—I have no doubt about it—I came into possession of this actual document on November 14th, 1896—I asked the prisoner for all the vouchers and this was included—it was returned to him—I wanted them to go through the figures to see how he had spent the money, but the figures were so mutilated that I could not, and I gave them back to him, and he promised them back to me the following day—I did not keep the receipts in my hands for three days—I am prepared to say the receipt is not in the same state as it was then—I am prepared to say that the receipts were exactly in the same form as when they were handed to me—they have been in my possession since November 21st, 1896, and my solicitors handed them over to me—my solicitors informed me about January, that an action had been brought by Bennett and Shears against the prisoner, who were seeking to make me liable as a partner—they sent me a statement, but I do not remember seeing one similar to this (Produced)—I first knew on March 3rd this year that he had never paid us the £34 3s. 6d.—I am not aware that I had to pay the amount of the judgment which Bennett and Shears recovered against the prisoner, but

I paid £300 odd—I only saw a statement of what was due to Bennett, Shears and Co.—I can swear, with confidence, that I have not paid them £84 3s. 6d.—I talked to my solicitors about that—I have never said that I would ruin this man—I have said that he is a bad man and a fraudulent man, but not that I would put him into prison—I said that I would prosecute him—a man named Crepin was in the warehouse in 1896—I did not go round to Mrs. Bartholomew and the prisoner's creditors and tell them he was a thief and a scoundrel, nor did Crepin—I know that he was prosecuted before Justice Darling and sentenced to four months—I paid the expenses from beginning to end—I gave no instructions to Mrs. Bartholomew—I did not tell her he was going to leave the country, nor do I know that Crepin did—I am sure Crepin never wrote this postcard (Produced), but the Special Jury found that I had and that he had incited Crepin to write these very cards.

Re-examined. The action was brought against me for calling this man a thief, and also with respect to these cards—with regard to calling him a thief, the Jury awarded him a farthing, and £5 in respect of stating that he had appropriated money—Crepin retains it still—I was led to think him dishonest, because I found on the counterfoil a figure "2," which looked as if there was an erasure—I afterwards found that he had drawn a cheque for £25 and appropriated the money—in the account he called it £2—he put that in his pocket—I had an account in June, 1896—at that time I owed the prisoner £20—that had been wiped off before that date—the money I gave him afterwards was to pay for machinery, and I believed he had paid for it with the £232—I had no reason to doubt his honesty then.

PERCY WHITING SHEE . I am security clerk at the Birkbeck Bank—in August, 1896, Mr. Warsamy had a large balance there, and on August 1st he drew £233 in a £100 note (17642), two £50 notes, three £10 notes, and £3 in gold.

BENJAMIN BRADY . I am manager to Messrs. Redfern, patent agents—on August 24th, 1896, Kressel paid in £40 in notes—(Giving the numbers)—I gave him this receipt—this stamp is genuine, but the rest of the document is a forgery—that is the only receipt I gave him that day—the payment before that was on June 24th, and none before and none afterwards—these figures on the receipt are mine, but looking at them with a glass the £10 appears to have been altered.

Cross-examined. The real receipt for £40 looks like Mr. Redfern's writing, not like that of any member of the firm or clerk, which may have been altered; but I do not suppose I should look at it—this (produced) is one of our genuine receipts—we do not type-write—if it was in typewriting it could not come from our firm, and his attention would be called to it at once—I have never seen the prosecutor at our office—he said that he should endeavour to get the prisoner convicted.

Re-examined. I refused all information at first in consequence of this letter: "Gentlemen,—If any one, no matter who it may be, should ask for any information with regard to me, will you refuse to give any answer whatever? As soon as I can I will call and explain myself."—This receipt "E" is not a genuine receipt of my firm, it is a forgery; it is type-written

and so is this other, and this "G" is a forgery, also purporting to be for money paid by the prisoner—this one is a genuine invoice of the firm and a genuine signature—it is not type-written.

CHARLES JOHN WILLIAMS . I am a clerk in the bank-note office of the Bank of England—I produce a £100 note, No. 74642, and a £50 note, No. 63403, which bear the endorsement of the London and County Bank another, No. 34612, endorsed by Kressel, of Stamford Hill, which was cashed on August 24th, 1896, for which I gave in exchange these notes—(produced)—numbered 91699 and 91700 and 89501 to 89507—No. 95807 is endorsed "Redfern"—I also produce two £10 notes, 82313 and 82315—No. 82314 has Redfern's stamp at the back.

C. F. A. WARSAMY (re-examined).—This is the prisoner's endorsement on this £50 note—these two type-written receipts are also his—he said that they were handed to him through the Redferns.

Cross-examined. I received this one (Dated March 13th, 1896)—from Mr. Redfern—I paid it personally—I had that in my possession before I got the type-written ones.

Re-examined. It did not occur to me that the type-written ones were wrong—I had no doubt about the prisoner then.

FRANCIS AUGUSTUS DODD . I am an auctioneer—I had been doing business with the prisoner for some years up to 1896—these two £10 notes 83313 and 83315—bear my firm's endorsement—I do not know where we received them from—we pay all money into the London and Provincial Bank—on August 22nd, 1896, these two notes were paid to our firm in the name of Kressel.

EDWARD NEW (Police Serjeant). On March 22nd I arrested the prisoner on a warrant which I read to him—he said, "Who is the prosecutor?"—I said, "Mr. Warsamy"—he said, "I know all about that,. I have got a complete answer for Mr. Warsamy."

GUILTY . He was stated to have been before convicted in Germany— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour.

THIRD COURT.—Saturday, 30th April, and

NEW COURT, Monday, May 2nd, 1898.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-327

327.— JOHN TOWSEND (54), and JOSEPH HARYEY LONGHURST (25) , Unlawfully obtaining from Joseph Wallis and Co., and others, £24 7s. 9d., and other sums, by false pretences. Other Counts.—For conspiring to obtain credit and to defraud; TOWNSEND , also, for obtaining credit without informing persons that he was an undischarged bankrupt.

MR. ARTHUR GILL Prosecuted, MR. DESTOURWAL appeared for Longhurst and MR. DRAKE for Townsend.

During the progress of the case the prisoners withdrew their pleas, and Townsend PLEADED GUILTY to the Second and Ninth Counts (conspiring to obtain credit by false pretences and other frauds, and obtaining credit, being an undischarged bankrupt); and Longhurst to the First and Third Counts (obtaining credit by false pretences and other frauds ).

GUILTY.—TOWNSEND,** Twelve Months' Hard Labour . LONGHURST (who received a good character)— Judgment respited.

Reference Number: t18980425-328

328. JOHN TYRWHITT (21) , Forging and uttering a cheque for £64, with intent to defraud.

MR. RANDOLPH Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN Defended.

WILLIAM ERNEST FARR . I live at 213, St. Alban's Road, Watford—I am manager to Mr. Phineas Hands, a money changer, with an office at Charing Cross—I know the prisoner through his coming to the office and cashing cheques for him—on December 20th he called between five and six p.m. and asked me to cash this cheque for £64 for £62 cash—I asked him how he obtained it—he said it was a money transaction of Honor—I gave him £62 and paid it into the bank—it was returned marked as it is now, "Orders not to pay"—there were subsequent proceedings against Honor and Tyrwhitt—there was a judgment against Tyrwhitt—Honor got leave to defend.

Cross-examined. The writ was issued on December 23rd—judgment was signed on January 16th—before Christmas I did not know that the cheque was a forgery—I knew it was unpaid—upon January 16th I knew it was a forgery—my principal knew also—no criminal proceedings were taken against the defendant till April 18th—Mr. Honor's place is in Jermyn Street, about ten minutes' walk—the cheque bears our stamp, "Foreign Money Exchange, 16, Strand, W. C."—between January 14th and April 18th I had not seen Mr. Honor, neither to my knowledge had Mr. Hands—I applied for a warrant against Honor—in the information I swore that I had been defrauded of £62, and had been put to considerable legal expenses, and had been unable to find Tyrwhitt—we left the matter to our solicitor—between January 16th And April 18th I had not endeavoured to find the prisoner—Mr. Hands, my solicitor, put it into Mr. Newton's hands—he is a relation of Mr. Hands.

Re-examined. After the matter had been put in my solicitor's hands I had nothing more to do with it.

VICTOR HONOR (affirmed). Swearing is against my conscience—I am a money-lender at 131, Jermyn Street—the defendant called on me on December 20th about six p.m.—we had transactions which were reduced to writing in my presence—(A letter was here produced of December 20th, 1897, acknowledging the acceptance by John Monson of a bill for £300 in Consideration of advances therein stated)—I drew two cheques for £6, as shown by the counterfoil of my cheque-book—the first cheque is No. 71119—Tyrwhitt drew the cheque and I signed it—this is what remains of it—he afterwards brought it back as it is now—he said he had been in a public-house in the country, and somebody had torn it—I am a German, naturalised—he asked me to write another cheque—I have an objection to be sworn on the Law and the Prophets—another cheque for £4 was written by me, and he gave me the torn one—my practice is to send my bankers a list of cheques drawn—I subsequently had a commnication with the bank—I required the defendant to write the cheque, because I am not very much up in writing—I keep clerks—plenty of customers draw cheques which I sign—that is my custom—I was called away, and he said, "Here it is," and I said, "Very well," quick, because I wanted to finish the cheque—here has been a line on the cheque—he took the cheque away without, the "60" on it—I made an affidavit in

the civil proceedings, and got leave to defend—the defendant had no authority from me to alter the £4 into £64.

Cross-examined. I swore an affidavit before a commissioner—I affirm—I know that does not prevent my being prosecuted for perjury—I have given evidence in Police-courts and County-courts—I have said that I affirmed because I was tired of being sworn—that was true—my conscientious scruples arose when I came to this country, and I did not like to swear—I am an Austrian—my name is a translation of the German Ehrlif—Victor Ehrlif is my original name—I have taken other names—Milton, Shakespere, and Denton—I do not remember any others—when I came to this country I went into the perfumery business, and did not succeed—a lot of travellers robbed me, and a clerk advised me, as my father would not like to know my name, to do business in another name, so I took Shakespere and other names—I have kept a banking account in England about six or seven years—four and a-half years at the Capital and Counties—I have a religious belief—I am a conforming Jew, and attend synagogue—I do not invite all my clients to write the body of the cheque—the defendant is 21 1/2 years old—I ascertained that within a fortnight of his coming to me—I write the body of my cheques—I did not do it in this case, because the defendant has written all the documents—I gave him my cheque book and said, "Write it out"—I did not treat him differently to others—I never thought about forgery—I swear that—I send my list of cheques down to the bank every morning—it is an arrangement between me and the bank—it is not for the sake of preventing forgery—well, they can forge my own signature—it is to prevent forgery—I do not know that I have ever seen within the four corners of a cheque "Under £10," etc.—the signatures of both cheques are not in a different ink to the body of them—I do not mind swearing on the Law and the Prophets—I believe in another life—it is not what we are professing, but what we are in our hearts—I have an objection to being sworn on the Law and the Prophets—I do not say that I do not believe in them—I do in my own way—I have been sworn in this country, but I could not help myself—I shall not tell a lie—Monson was present when he took the cheque—he is not one of my runners—he has brought three or four clients—I do not think he was accused of murder—he did not take a pen from his pocket and give it to the prisoner—I will swear that, as far as I remember—I paid the prisoner £70 in cash—I do not think I would not be believed, but you must go with the world—the prisoner called lots of times after December 23rd—I did business with him—I know he had forged my cheque—it is not true that I promised him £70 and never gave him a 1s.—it was in notes and gold—I got them from the safe—I cannot say where I got them from before they were in the safe—I have not got the numbers of the notes—I do not keep any books—I have got the securities—I have lent to young men since December 15th between £1,500 and £2,000—I do not charge so little as six per cent.—I charge as much as another money-lender—I charged over £1,000 interest in three months; but we do not get the principal for years and there is great risk—I have an equitable charge on the prisoner's reversion—I have the security of £1,830—I advanced £2,000—Stanley Jones sold the reversion—he is a money-lending solicitor—I have

had from the prisoner securities to the extent of about £1,000—I sell jewellery—Mr. Vile, of Hatton Garden is my jeweller—I have sold the prisoner jewellery—the first day the prisoner came with Monson—Monson asked me to cash a cheque for £102—I gave him five cheques of £20 each—they may have been crossed, payable to the payee only—I forget—a publican with whom he cashed two cheques came to me—I did not know I had the right to give the prisoner into custody—it is not my money—he has not done me—he has been 20 or 30 times to the office after he forged the cheque—I did ask him why he forged it—the first time I said: "Who told you this trick to do?"—he laughed, and said: "Nobody"—then I asked Monson, "What the hell did you let him do a thing like this for?"—I always thought this boy would not do this thing—I have no grudge against him; but what am I to do?—I did not want to pay this cheque, and I thought somebody taught him, and I tried to find out, and I said twenty times to him, "Who taught you this thing to do?" and he never told me—Monson told me who taught him—he afterwards told me he knew the cheque was altered—I did not know where he could be found—Mr. Hands has been to me—I went to Mr. Newton—I came upon subpœna to give evidence—I never sold the prisoner a watch I said was worth £80—I sold him a ring with a diamond in it—he had seven or eight on approbation—I think the price was £90—I also lent him money upon his signing a bill for £103—I do not know that the ring was only worth £15, and that the cost price was £12—I did not get it from Vile—I got it from a man who lent it as a security—I never valued it—I gave him seven days to consider—I sold him a lady's gold watch for about £7—it is not true that it was £40—I do not know if those watches are worth £2 each—it depends upon where you buy—buying is one thing and selling another—I try to make the best of what I have got—Monson introduced the prisoner—he is my friend; what do you mean by friend?—he has not my acquaintance, because I do not want him—I did not get the prisoner to endorse cheques and pay them into my own bank—that is not done over and over again—there is a Chancery suit against me in which fraud is suggested—I did not ask the prisoner who his friends and relations were—I knew who his father was—he did not tell me his eldest brother had estates in two English counties—he told me his elder brother died and left nothing—he did not say his brother's people were wealthy—I never asked him to sign his brother's name—he will never say that—I don't believe he has said it—there is no truth in the suggestion that I committed fraud on an insurance company, but it is because Monson was mixed up in it—I had nothing to do with it—Morodowny is a tout—Bently another tout—they and Monson have been present when I signed cheques—I have got nothing from the reversion—it is in my solicitor's hands, Mr. Newton—he is also solicitor for the prosecution—I swore on the trial of three prisoners (Francis, Rule and Jones) at Marlboro' Street for false pretences—they were convicted and sentenced to imprisonment with hard labour—that was not Stanley Jones—(MR. JONBS: "Yes, I was convicted on that man's lies")—that is the gentleman I mean—(Mr. Jones was ordered to leave the Court).

Re-examined. I was called on subpœna—I have no interest in this

prosecution—I have paid the £4 of my cheques—I attended on subpœna at the Police-court—I was hound over by the magistrate to come here—I wish I had never come—there is no truth in the suggestion that I gave the prisoner leave to alter the cheque, and he knows it—I do not want books.

PHINEAS HANDS . Mr. Farr is my manager—I have never seen the prisoner he fore—in consequence of what Mr. Farr told me I instructed my solicitor, who is my son—I left the matter in his hands—I ascertained about, the forgery the following day, when the cheque was returned—I do not know why proceedings were not taken between January 14th and April 18th.

JOHN JOSHUA HANDS . I am my father's solicitor—I practice at 10, Angel Court—he first instructed me on December 23rd—I then brought an action against Tyrwhitt and Honor—Stanley Jones is Mr. Honor's solicitor—I took proceedings under Order XIV. and got a judgment—I discontinued the action against Honor in accordance with the decision given in the case of Schofield v. Lord Londesborough, where it was held that the drawer of a cheque was not under any obligation to the public as to the way he drew the cheque, and there were no means of distinguishing this case—I paid Honor's costs—I instructed Mr. Arthur Newton about the end of February—I have since written eight or ten letters to know how matters were going on—when I got the affidavit of Mr. Honor that this was a forgery I tried to find out, with a view to proceedings in bankruptcy, the facts of the case, but could not trace them—Mr. Monson did not come to the office when I was out—as I am not a criminal solicitor I left the matter in the hands of Mr. Newton.

FREDERICK TAYLERSON . I am Mr. Arthur Newton's managing clerk—this matter was placed in my hands about December 23rd—I was very busy, and it stood over for more pressing matters—I was away ill with influenza for quite a month—the prisoner was a man who was not likely to run away.

WILLIAM GOUGH (Detective E) I arrested the prisoner on April 20th in the Shaftesbury Avenue about 6.30 p.m.—I told him I was a police officer, and I believed him to be the Hon. John Tyrwhitt, and that I had a warrant for his arrest—he said, "I see"—I took him to Bow Street Police-station, where he was formally charged—he made no reply.

Cross-examined. I found eighteen pawntickets on him—I have examined the dates on them—there are several in December and February and last August—some of them are for large amounts—there is one for £8 and one for £24 for jewellery—a gold Albert watch, and so on—he was brought up before Sir John Bridge the next morning, Thursday—evidence was given of the arrest only—the Magistrate declined to admit him to bail, and remanded him till Friday, when he was committed for trial.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was: "I am not guilty. I had no intention to defraud."


OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 27th, 1898, and following days.

Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.

Reference Number: t18980425-328a

328. THOMAS STEPHEN CALLAHAM (28) and ERNEST HERBERT SWEET (23), PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling and stealing various sums of money whilst employed by the Corporation of London in the Guildhall School of Music.— Nine Months' Hard Labour each.

Reference Number: t18980425-329

329. CAMILLA NICHOLLS was indicted for the manslaughter of Emily Jane Popejoy.


GEORGE POPEJOY . I am a carpenter, living at Bagshot in Surrey—the deceased, Emily Jane Popejoy, was my daughter—she was seventeen years of age in November last—in October, 1896, she went into the prisoner's service at 14, Pitt Street, Kensington—she had been in a situation for about twelve months prior to that, in October, 1896—when she left there she was in good health—there was nothing at all the matter with her—she was not stout, or particularly thin—I did not see her after she went to the prisoner's situation till she returned home on November 24th, 1897—I saw from time to time the letters that she wrote home—I used to see them and pass them on to her sister—I saw the first letter she wrote home—that was about a month after she had gone into the service—after reading it I sent it to my daughter-in-law (Emily) at Aldershot—I knew on December 23rd that Jane was coming home on the 24th—I knew that from this letter from Mrs. Nicholls—this is it—(read)—" 14, Pitt Street, Kensington. December 22nd. Poor Janey tells me she sent her Christmas letter and cards to you yesterday. Mrs. Popejoy enclosed some I gave her to send you. I am so very sorry at this time of all other to send you ill tidings, but she coughed so much last night that I insisted—in spite of her entreaties that I would not, upon sending for the doctor to examine her. I was shocked and distressed beyond measure to learn from him that she must always have been consumptive, and this was probably the cause of her ceasing to be as she should be monthly, She told us when she came here it had ceased five months previously, the beginning of the June, and she came here the following October. I was shocked upon her arrival to see her so thin, but she assured us she had always been so, and that it was not for lack of appetite, as she felt she could eat all day long and all night long and for ever and ever, and then felt she had not had half enough, and we found this to be a fact, the amount of food and drink she takes being most extraordinary, and the doctor says she never was able to digest or assimilate food, and the large amount she took therefore did her positive harm, and she always, of course, felt hungry. You must, the doctor says, fetch her home at once and see what native air will dp; it is the only possible chance for her. Poor, poor Janey. I am too distressed even to use a pen, and it will make our Christmas very sorrowful. I cannot leave my helpless child, or I would, unwell as I am myself, have taken her. She must not travel alone, and I have no one just now to send with her. Please telegraph me at once if you can be here by 4 or between 4 and 5 to-morrow, or by the same hour on Friday. She ought not, in her condition, to leave by a later train than 5 o'clock. I mean yourself or one of the family. If she were ever so well physically she could not be trusted to travel alone. There are reasons, which I cannot

pain you by entering into, why she must never be out of your sight whilst at home, poor dear. We are so very sorry for her and for you, poor Mrs. Popejoy.—Faithfully yours, C. NICHOLLS. P. S.—She took cold five weeks ago by leaving off her drawers. A week later she accentuated it by another most foolish act. We did everything we could, applied all the usual remedies, and wished her to have the doctor; but she so strongly objected, and begged so to remain on. She was sure, she said, it would be better in a day or two, and cried and implored me not to send for him, or to send her away; but she seemed to waste so rapidly that it frightened me. Thin as she was when she came, she is far more now, and her hair, she says, comes out in handfuls. There has always been great trouble to get her to comb and brush her hair, or to wash herself"—until the receipt, of that letter I had not heard a word about my daughter being ill, or anything the matter with her—my wife made arrangements for her going into service with Lady Harrowby—I saw her when she came home on the 24th—she then looked very pale and thin and very ill—she was put to bed at once, and remained there until she died, on the following Monday—on that day I heard certain statements made by my daughter—Nunn, the policeman, was there—I noticed her nose looked damaged and also her finger.

Cross-examined. I had not heard that she had been ill till I got that letter, nor had my wife—I knew that she had been ill some months before—she had been in several little places before this, for a month or so, with friends or relations—she was not at all a delicate girl—I had not called a doctor for her—there was no reason for it—I did not know that Dr. Twort had attended to Her in 1893 for influenza—one of my sons had broken a blood vessel and lost a great deal of blood—I remember her running about the garden in a passion—I don't remember her temper getting extraordinary—I don't remember telling Dr. Twort about it—I treated her as a father would do—I did not beat her, I spoke to her—this letter she wrote, and I wrote to her—(read)—"Dear daughter. Just a line or two to let you know we received the presant safe and you kindly thank your Mrs. for the card and the book she sent and we also wish them a mery Xmas and a happy new year except the same yourself mother sent this cape for you she let your sister have the other we can't get it back this one will do as well we are glad to you likes the place and hope you will stay year I think you will yearn the box be good and learn all you can as it is the only chance you have I will get it made your brother is gone to bob to spen is Xmas if the lady should hear of anything be pleased from your Mother and Father"—I don't know what I meant by "your only chance"—it was not her only chance of getting her livelihood—I don't know what it meant—I had had a little trouble with her—very little—not about her untruthfulness—I don't remember anything about it.

Re-examined. I don't say that there was any difference between this child and other children in that respect—she was not more trouble to me than any of the other children—I might have beaten her with a stick; that would have been three years ago, I think—that was for disobedience—I never beat her for fetching me from the public-house when drunk—I saw her once running along the garden in a temper—my son Arthur did

not suffer from consumption—he was thrown off a horse and that was the cause of his illness.

EMILY POPEJOY . I am the wife of George Popejoy, of 13, Lime Street, Aldershot—I am sister-in-law to Emma Jane Popejoy—I had known her from her infancy—in the summer of 1896 she was staying over a month with me—she was then in very good health—there was nothing the matter with her—she was a very well-nourished girl—she was a fine big girl—I knew of her going into the service of the prisoner at 14, Pitt Street—whilst she was there I received some letters from her—these (produced) are in her writing—the first of these are the first I saw—I did not see any earlier letter that went the round of the family—this one (No. 6) is something like hers—I don't know it—I did not see her from the summer of 1896 till Christmas 1897, on her return to Bagshot; she was then in bed—I should not have known her only by her voice—she was a complete skeleton, and seemed very ill indeed—I had gone to 14, Pitt Street, on Friday, December 24th, for the purpose of fetching her home, I got there about a quarter to seven—I went in consequence of some communication her mother had made to me—I had to knock five times before the door was opened by Edith Garrett I then learnt that she had gone home—I did not see Mrs. Nicholls on that occasion, I asked to see her—I then went back to aginst shot, and I remained there till Christmas night—I was at home at Aldershot when I received this letter, signed "C. Nicholls"—(read)—" 14, Pitt Street, Kensington. December 25th. I was so distressed, Mrs. Popejoy, to hear you had had to leave your little ones on a fruitless journey of poor poor Janey. I wrote three times to her poor mother, but receiving no reply made arrangements at very great expense and trouble for a lady from the Travellers' Society to take her the whole way home, and as there are no cabs or flys at Bagshot they were to get out at Ascot and take a closed fly home. I had had to go to bed before you got here with a severe attack of rheumatism to which I am subject, and everything has been disorganised and put out of gear by poor Janey's illness. I should have written to her mother long before, but she so begged and prayed me not, insisting that she had been much worse, at home in winter, but always pulled round again in spring. She had an unreasoning dislike to see a doctor, but I had at last to insist upon her seeing one, and I hope her mother will send at once for the doctor who, she says, attended her in childhood and ordered her cod-liver oil, etc. So she had, I conclude, the seeds of this awful disease from babyhood, indeed, the doctor here said she must have had, and it had taken an acute form months before she came here, which accounts for her having been thin and still wasting in spite of the most ravenous appetite and taking the enormous quantities of food she did, poor dear, and continued to take up to the moment of leaving this house yesterday. The doctor said she had no assimilative power, and so the more heavy meals she took the worse she became, and during the last five or six weeks she wasted away so rapidly, but neither appetite nor sleep failed her she said, and insisted the whole time that she had no pain—all she thought off or seemed to care for, poor dear, was eating and drinking, and almost her last words were her regret that she would not be here to help eat the Christmas turkey, so I am going to send her a little

by Parcel Post, as soon as the offices are open again, and also some V. H. Coca the same as she was taking before she left. She can tell her mother how my housekeeper made it; we are also sending some Christmas pudding, she took some mince pies with her. Her mother mustn't allow her to eat much at a time of such things she cannot digest, and it might have very serious results if she eats very ravenously to-day of beef and pudding. The doctor bays her disease makes her feel as if she never has enough, and it does her so much harm, so pray beg her mother to be careful, she must have milk, coca, beef tea, etc, and not the huge amount of solid food she has been alway taking. I enclose a booklet for you and some of your little ones as they would not, I fear, get any from poor Janey I sent home to her mother. I wonder if she got them. We have never heard from her. I am in too great pain to write. With much sympathy with you all I am, C. NICHOLLS."

Cross-examined. Jane was very pale, she had a clear skin and a little colour—when she wrote to me she called me "sister"—(several letters were here read by Counsel from the deceased to the witness, speaking of being very busy and happy)—she was at a Board school for some time—I don't know for how long—I don't know when she left—she was some time in service before she went to Mrs. Nicholls.

Re-examined.—I only know of one place, that was in Bagshot—I don't know the name, or how long she was there.

ADA POPEJOY . I am the wife of Frederick Popejoy, a brother of the deceased girl—I had known her for about six years—I remember seeing her shortly before she went into Mrs. Nicholls's service—about a fortnight or three weeks—she was then a strong, healthy looking girl, and very clean—as far as I knew she had nothing the matter with her—at Christmas, 1896, I had a card from her—beyond that I had no communication with her—she had been for short periods before she left for London—I was at her father-in-law's house at Bagshot shortly after she came home—on December 26th—she was up at that time, but had gone to bed—I then noticed a very great change in her—I really did not think it was her at first—I helped to partly undress her and put her to bed—she was in a very tilthy condition, also her clothes—she was bruised from head to foot—her arms and legs were very much bruised—her knees were bruised, also a bruise on her throat, and her hands very much, also her toes—two toes were matted together very much, looking as if something was done to them—sores were running from them—I washed the toes, at which she screamed very much, and we let her alone—a front tooth was broken—a piece of the tooth was gone—my mother and I washed her before putting her to bed—we were not successful in getting her clean that night—she did not seem to take much notice of anybody—she ate something, but very little—she had a little piece of fresh herring and a piece of bread and butter—she ate it, not ravenously, she drank a little of the tea—I remained in the house that night—next day, Christmas Day, I saw her again—she had a little bit of dinner—she was in bed all day—she seemed very low—she had not much that day—on Christmas Day my mother and I washed her again twice—I can't say she was left clean—I thought she was very bad—she did not

eat very much—next day, December 26th, I remained in the house—she got weaker day by day—she had nothing to eat, only a little brandy and milk on that day—Dr. Osburn was called in—the girl was conscious the whole of the Sunday, and she remained conscious till the end—on Monday the 27th, the day she died, she spoke to me that morning—she said she was going to rest that night, that she would not be much longer here—she meant she was going to die, but I do not think she liked to bay that word because of her mother—she asked that a clergyman, Mr. Lorrie, might be sent for about 3 p.m. that day—he was sent for and arrived about 4 p.m.—on that afternoon, in consequence of a communication from Dr. Osburn, I had a conversation with Mr. Nunn—he came to the house that afternoon—I noticed some hair was missing from the front of her head, as if she had grown bald in front

Cross-examined. I was in the room when Nunn was there—not all the time—I did not hear her say anything about dying to the. constable—she was a fine, strong, healthy girl, and quite noticeable for her extra size and extra strength—she was the ordinary size for her age—not of a particular good colour, but healthy looking—she was not particularly pale—she appeared to be strong—I do not remember her having influenza very badly—I had known her about six years—when she was a child she used to run up into the garden in a temper—her mother is getting old—you must not take notice of what she says—she was not particularly excitable—there was a little hair off each side—in front it was quite noticeable—I gave my evidence before the Coroner—there was a little excitement about the case—there was a crowd of people assembled at the railway station—there was an angry mob there—I daresay I felt indignant with regard, to the girl—her clothes, when she got home, were stiff and very dirty—the clothes in her box were all soaked with water, and her other clothes did not seem to have been washed for a long time—they smelt very bad—I said before that she was bruised from head to foot—not her body, but her legs and arms—I saw a bruise at the back of her shoulder, but I could not be certain that I saw any other on her body—I helped to undress her—one of her teeth was gone altogether in front, and a piece was left, it looked as if it had been broken off—she seemed to have very sound teeth—I cannot remember whether I said anything to the Coroner about her toes being matted together, but stuck together, with sores between—I think it was the left foot—they were so stuck together that pulling them apart hurt very much—it was not dirt, but sores—she did not have particularly bad diarrhoea—she certainly did have it a little once during the time she was in bed—she seemed to lay on her right side mostly—she seemed to understand what was said up to the end, right to the last, when Dr. Osburn came—she died on Monday, about eight o'clock—I did not leave her, only just to run down the village for the policeman—she was quite con scious and talking up to the end—I saw her die—she did not die suddenly—before she died she asked for my husband, and said goodbye to him—there were no convulsions, or anything of that kind—she was got home on the Thursday night—I did not send for a doctor—she came home on the Friday evening before Christmas Day—they meant to send for a doctor on the Saturday—they were going to stop him as he came through

the village—there was a misunderstanding about it—they intended to send.

Re-examined. The mistake was made on the Christmas Day, the Saturday, but for that mistake the doctor would have been called in on Christmas Day—he was called in on the Sunday—the diarrhoea appeared about the second day, I think, after she came home, on Sunday—I don't think it lasted more than a day—I cannot say if it was the Christmas Day or the day after that the doctor came—I do not know exactly how long the diarrhoea lasted—she did not suffer particularly from it—I saw the condition of the nose, the arms, the legs, and toes, and on that I founded my description that she seemed bruised from head to foot.

ROSE HANNAH POPEJOY . I am the wife of George Popejoy and mother of the deceased girl—she was sixteen years old—up to October, when she left home, she had always enjoyed good health—there was nothing the matter with her so far as I knew—I knew that her courses had stopped for two months—she had not been troubled with any cough or any symptoms of anything being wrong with her lungs before she left home. I used to see her undressed when she was washing sometimes—I used to assist her—her body was well nourished and in good condition—she kept clean—before she left home her head was perfectly clean—I assisted her to cleanse it—I made arrangements with a lady at Bagshot for her going into service—I arranged the wages—she was to have 1s. 6d, a week to start with, to be increased to 2s. a week—I got a letter from her the second day after she left—just a few lines—and I got another letter from her within about a week or ten days—I cannot state dates exactly—I cannot read—Mrs. Harding is a friend, and if I happened to see her I should hand her the letters to read to me—she is a near neighbour, and does my writing when I have no one at home to do it—I have given all the letters I can find from my daughter to the police—I could not find the letter which I had at the end of ten days or a week—she told me of the house and what she would have to do, and she began telling me how she lived, that she did a little work besides the lady, that she pushed the young lady out—she said she had dripping for breakfast, meat for dinner, she did not go so far as to say any other meal to my knowledge—she might have done so—that was the only letter I had from her in which she spoke of the food she had—she said she had too much washing to do—my son mostly read the letters to me—Mrs. Harding did sometimes—I heard there was nothing the matter with my daughter about three months before she came home—her letter was peevish—I thought it was her writing, but it did not all match with her child writing—I thought she was not well—I kept the letter a long time, but I have not got it now—the Sunday she died she said, about 7 or 8 a.m., when I first rose, something about her last sleep, she should sleep to-night—during the day she rallied round sometimes, then she seemed worse—I was in the room when the constable was fetched—she had done very little talking—we had told her about the condition her body was in—she knew that she was dying—she wished to see all her brothers and sisters—we asked her about the bruises and how she came to be so thin and so on before the Monday—I only knew about that by what she told Mr.

Nunn and Dr. Osburn—I heard what she told them—the constable told her she was dying, and she answered—she said, when he asked the question, "My mistress did it all"—that was on the Monday—she told Dr. Osburn on the Monday that she knew she was dying, when he told her she was dying—she knew she was dying, and all her treatment was her mistress's—when he asked her how she came by this on her nose, she answered, as well as she could, her mistress—she gave no answer to some questions put to her by Dr. Osburn.

Cross-examined. Nunn did not come into the room on Sunday—he only came into her room on the Monday, and I do not think I left the room—my daughter was inclined to be a fine girl with good limbs, but she was not stout—she was tall—she would have been very pretty—when she went away in October, I never saw her again until she came back, when she was dying—that was an interval of fifteen months—during that time she used to write about once a month—three months before she came home she wrote, and said she had got a bad cough—one letter was written from Southsea—that was not written after she complained of being ill—she said Mrs. Nicholls was going to take her to the seaside—she did not say she was ill—she took her to the seaside for a month about August, 1897—I believe she had got a bad cough, when she wrote about it—I asked Mrs. Harding to write for me—some of us were thinking of going to see her on Jubilee Day—I cannot write—I am not a good judge of writing—this signature, "Mother, E. Popejoy" is not unlike her eldest sister's writing—Mrs. Harding wrote that letter for me—it was about October, 1897, when I had heard she had had this cough—(Mrs. Harding was here interposed, and said on oath that she wrote the letter for Mrs. Popejoy)—I heard my daughter's wages were raised to 2s. a week at the end of the first month, and afterwards that they were raised to 2s. 6d.—when Jane's courses stopped about two months before she went away, she was a little bit excited at these times—nothing much—she wanted to go away to be alone—I am not sure it was only two months—she was irritated, and wanted to be alone—I never had any difficulty in managing her—I never had any difficulty with her when she grew up—she was a very quiet girl—I deny that I said before "I had at times some difficulty in managing Jane"—when she was put out, or anyone was angry with her, she wanted to go away and be quiet, and rest a bit—she was not easily put out—she never showed it—if her father came home very angry she used to go up the garden out of his way—it is not very likely she would get out of my way—she would get all right after coming in and lying down on the bed—she could not stand being put upon—I never told Dr. Twart she could—I never remember having him to her but twice—she had sometimes the influenza; but when the inspector came there was nothing the matter—I believe she only had one bottle of medicine—when she came home on Friday we talked about, sending for the doctor, but we missed him—we sent for him on the Sunday—she asked for Dr. Twart on the Christmas Day—I know him very well—he has attended me—we went to Dr, Osburn because he was the parish doctor—Dr. Twart was the doctor whom we paid—we wanted to put it on the parish, as I felt it was more than I could do—before she went away she had a very good

appetite—she was always ready for her meals—she was an independent girl, and knew how to take care of herself in a country place—I placed her with a good nurse—I sent her money once with a box to pay for it—when she came back my house seemed open to everybody, and there was a lot of family talk—I was over the child, and could not hear what was going on in the other room I suppose—what Ada Popejoy said to her was, "I am sure you have been ill-treated and starved"—the deceased did not want us to ask her any questions about it when she first came home—I do not remember her answering Ada, "Don't say that! I don't like to hear you say that"—I did not go to the coroner's inquest—she had no diarrhoea—there were three motions, not loose, that was only on the last day—you could not call it diarrhoea—she practically passed everything she took, but not loose—she was sometimes on one side and sometimes on the other—she did not like us to say anything to her about her body when she first came home—I first gave her some bread and butter, toast, biscuits, oranges, and honey, a little fowl, Brussel sprouts, and half a glass of elderberry wine—on the second day she had fresh butter and fresh herrings.

Re-examined. On the Sunday Dr. Osburn ordered me not to give her solid food—after that we gave her brandy—I think that was on Christmas Day—I gave her what was ordered—she had milk and brandy—on Christmas morning she had a motion, and on the last day there were three in all—I received a 6s. postal order from her for two cotton dresses, but no other money—I had no letter from Mrs. Nicholls about her wages—Dr. Twart drew some teeth for her about two years before she went away—she could not bear pain well—she did not make ado about it—but she would go out of the way—she did not get angry if anyone got angry with her she never answered anyone.

MRS. HARDING. I am the wife of William Harding, a labourer, living at Bagshot—I have known the Popejoy family very well and the deceased all her life—when she went away in October, 1896, she was a strong healthy girl—I saw a good deal of her up to the time she went away—I never saw her suffering from illness—I live 200 yards off—she never complained to me or anyone that I know as to suffering front her lungs—I don't know that she had missed her courses—after she had gone to London her mother showed me at different dates letters which were received from the girl, and I used to read them when they required an answer, and when there was no one else to do it I would write an answer at the mother's request—I only saw the letters when she wanted me to write the answer—within a month after she went I saw a letter in which the girl spoke of the food at 14, Pitt Street—she spoke about having a very hard place and having bread and dripping for her breakfast—she did not know whether her mother had agreed to that, and I answered it that day, and her mother said she did not think she had got the place on trial, and that she had had that sometimes at home, and she was to write and tell her what she thought of it in her next letter—that is the substance of the letter I wrote—I remember seeing a letter shortly after that written by the girl, in which she said she was very sorry for having spoken of the bread and dripping, but the other girl preferred it and she could have bacon if she liked, and of

having such a very good mistress—at subsequent dates I was brought letters purporting to come from the girl, and I answered them—that is my writing—on December 23rd, 1897, about 3 p.m., I wrote this letter about her coming home; before writing it Mrs. Popejoy had shown me a letter from Mrs. Nicholls, and I wrote this in answer—I saw the girl after her return, and noticed a great change in her condition—I saw her undressed, and I saw her in bed the day she died—she was greatly changed.

WILLIAM NUNN (15, Surrey Constabulary). I am stationed at Bagshot—I knew the deceased before she left home from a little girl, by sight—in October, 1896, when she left home, she was very clean and nice-looking, and appeared in very good condition—she did not look pale or delicate, but very healthy—on Monday, December 27th, I was sent for, and went to the house about three in the afternoon—I saw her in bed—her mother was present and her father—I asked the girl "What has made you ill or the cause of your illness"—she said, "I have been ill-used and starved by my mistress"—I saw wounds on her right hand, and also on her right foot and left—the mother showed them to me—I asked the deceased what had caused those wounds, and she said, "my mistress, Mrs. Nicholls"—I said I thought she was dying—in consequence of that I and the father went to a Magistrate, and about ten p.m. a Magistrate arrived and she was dead.

Cross-examined. It was between 3.30 and 3.40—she said, "I have been ill-used and starved by my mistress"—I told her I thought she was dying, in the presence of her father and mother—I swear it—I have been a policeman for over thirty years—I made a statement to the Coroner—Mr. Fray ling was at the Police-station within a week before the inquest was closed—I knew it was an important statement—I was not called before the Coroner—I reported the case to him on the next morning, and I told him about this conversation in my report, and he knew perfectly well the evidence I could give—Sir John Bridge asked me if anything was said about dying, to this girl, and I said that nothing was said about dying to her in my presence; it was a great mistake of mine—I have not seen Mr. Frayling or anyone about it since—I was present in court before the Magistrate when the discussion took place as to whether the conversation was admissible or not—I did not notice anything being said about the young mistress or young lady—not of ill-using her or anything of that sort, but only as being an invalid.

Re-examined. She spoke of the young lady that was in the house, the invalid—immediately after I had given evidence at the Police-court I made a statement to Mr. Frayling—I had made my statement to the Treasury on February 23rd.

GEORGE FREDERICK ROUMIEU . I am one of the Coroners for the County of Surrey—I held an inquest on the body of this girl at Bagshot, beginning December 30th, 1897—I received a report from the last witness calling my attention to the case—on December 30th the prisoner was present and tendered herself as a witness—I took down in writing what she said—that is what I wrote—I cautioned her first in the usual way—her deposition was not read over to her nor signed, but it accurately records what she

stated—it is not usual in our courts for witnesses to sign their depositions—(the deposition of Camilla Nicholls was here put in and read)—the inquest lasted five days, and at the end a verdict was arrived at.

Cross-examined. Nunn made a statement to me on the morning following the death—he brought the usual report, and I think he made a verbal statement to me as well about Mrs. Nicholls having starved this girl, and caused the bruises or something to that effect—I have to decide whether there will be an inquest, and whether there will be a post-mortem—I directed a post-mortem—I did not know that Dr. Twart had been the medical man attending the family previously—I directed Dr. Osburn to make a post-mortem—I suggested that Dr. Creasey should also be present—in the ordinary course I should not order a post-mortem to be made by more than one medical man—I considered the case was out of the ordinary course, and might implicate Mrs. Nicholls—I attached very great importance to the result of the post-mortem—Mrs. Nicholls had an opportunity to be represented by an independent medical man three weeks after—I have had bodies exhumed six months after, and a post-mortem made—I am not a medical man, but a barrister—I have had five years' medical experience—I did not think that, under these circumstances, there would have been very much advantage whether she was represented six weeks after the post-mortem or when it took place—it would have been some advantage at the commencement, of course—the possibility of a very serious charge being brought against her in connection with the girl's death passed through my mind—there was a considerable demonstration at the inquest—I gave her my personal protection twice, and ran considerable risk, and I thought it best, in the interests of everyone, that she should not come a third time—I cannot say that I have ever seen such a demonstration against an accused person—the inquest was held in the same village—I instructed my officer to go and see Dr. Twart, in consequence of something that was said—I knew a report had been made by him—whether it was verbal or in writing I do not think I knew—it never found its way to me—I directed my officer to go and find out from Dr. Twart, whether he knew anything about the history of the case—I did not subpœna him—I did not think it necessary—undoubtedly I should have called him if he would have thrown any light on it—I would have done my best to protect witnesses on behalf of Mrs. Nicholls—I had some private conversation will her at Bagshot—on the first occasion she told me, in answer to my question, that she did not suggest this girl had had immoral connection.

Re-examined. It was after the first adjournment, after I left Bagshot—after I had cleared the court—it was after she had given evidence—I did not quite understand her evidence, and I put a question to her—I had no application on her behalf to attend the post-mortem—that is the case developed before me—the suggestion of "death from natural causes arose, and then I made the suggestion of an examination if it was required—it was not accepted.

By the COURT. Dr. Creasey lives at Windlesham, about a mile or a mile and a-half from Bagshot—he is an independant man, not connected with Dr. Osburn—he has given evidence before me on several occasions—he is known to me as a gentleman of experience.

ELIZABETH CHARLOTTE CUDLIP . I am the wife of Benjamin Cudlip, High Street, Bagshot—on December 6th, 1896, the deceased came to my house to assist in housework and look after the children—she remained for about ten days, sleeping my days—during that time she did her work, and appeared to be in good health—I saw no sign of anything being the matter with her—she was clean in her person—if she made herself dirty with her work she would at once wash herself, comb her hair, and put on a clean apron—she was not a thin girl, and in fair condition.

EMMA TAYLOR . I am a widow, living at Bagshot—I am next door neighbour to the Popejoys—I knew the deceased from her childhood—I remember her leaving for London in October, 1896—during the whole time I knew her she enjoyed good health—she was a strong healthy girl, and, so far as I saw, very clean in her habits and person—as far as I saw she was a perfectly well-behaved girl—I saw her a little while before she went away.

ELIZABETH JANNAWAY . I am a domestic servant, and live with my aunt—in the beginning of October, 1896, I went into the service of Mrs. Nicholls at 14, Pitt Street—she arranged to pay me 12s. a month wages—there was no other servant there at that time—the cooking was done by Mrs. Harrington, who lived there—I had occasionally to attend to an invalid girl who was paralysed—I stayed in the house a month and three days—I left because I did not get enough food—I ran away at six in the morning without any notice—I had made a communication to my aunt at the end of the first week—I spoke to her—I remember Jane Popejoy coming into the service, after I had been there a fortnight—I slept with her in the same room, and in the same bed—she appeared to be strong and healthy looking, very healthy—I used to do her hair for her—her head was perfectly clean when she came there—she used to help me in the house-work downstairs in the morning, and to take the invalid out—we had our meals down in the kitchen—we had bread and dripping for breakfast, no milk, and scarcely any sugar—we had no milk at all with our tea—we had dinner at mid-day—that was boiled rice, and sometimes beef that was left from the beef-tea that had been made for the invalid—we did not have that every day—we did not have meat on other days, only rice and vegetables—for tea we had bread and dripping, no milk, and scarcely any sugar—the same as at breakfast—for supper we sometimes had crusts, and at other times nothing—it was about two or three times a week that we had the beef left from the beef-tea—on Sundays we had the same things for breakfast, and at dinner a small piece of mutton—one or two pieces—or a small piece of groin—sometimes a piece of plain pudding, and the same for tea as other days, and supper—in the week days we would not have food from the upstairs table—sometimes the mistress had it the next day—the rest was put in the larder, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Harrington, had the key—she had her meals in the same kitchen with us, and the same food, nothing better—Mrs. Harrington always had the key of the larder after Popejoy came—she did not appear to be satisfied with the food—we had no beer, nothing but tea and water—in consequence of what Jane said, at my suggestion she wrote a letter to her home, but she

had not then asked me—very shortly after that letter was sent an answer came—I took it from the letter-box—it was addressed to Jane, and I gave it to her—I took it up to Mrs. Nicholls—I called Jane up, and Mrs. Nicholls asked her for the letter, and she read it—Jane gave it to her—Jane said it was from her mother—I did not remain in the room; I went down stairs—mistress told me to go down—Jane was still there—Mrs. Nicholls said that I had done no good by letting Jane write home, as the mother said that bread and dripping was no more than she had before—Mrs. Nicholls told Jane to get some paper and envelope, and write home at once—she did so, and Mrs. Nicholls told her what to say—it was: "Dear mother,—I hope you will forgive me for writing all about the bread and dripping, as it is all false. I have bacon for breakfast, and the others have bread and dripping. I have a nice place and a kind mistress. I go out in the garden with the invalid"—Jane wrote that, the letter was stuck down, and Mrs. Nicholls said she would post it—I did not see it posted—soon after my aunt came to the house to see me—Jane was present when she came—Mrs. Nicholls asked Jane if it was not true that we had bacon for breakfast—Jane made no answer—Mrs. Nicholls said if she did not answer she must go down and go on with her work—she went down—my aunt and Mrs. Nicholls spoke, but I don't know what they said—it was about a fortnight and three days before I ran away—I complained to Mrs. Harrington, the housekeeper, but it got no better.

Cross-examined. went into Mrs. Nicholls's service at the beginning of October, 1896—for a fortnight and three days—I had been there that time when Jane came—I was badly fed before she came—my aunt lived close to me—I was not in service, at Hammersmith—my aunt can answer that—I was with a lady named Ashwood in Munden Street—I ran away from there, saying that I was badly fed—I was kept up all hours of the night—after that I went to Mrs. Lewis—I had no character from the lady in Munden Street—I don't know how long I was there—I can't remember at what time of year it was—it was before Christmas—a long time before—I suppose in the autumn—I went there in January, and left at the beginning of September—because there was a bit of an uproar over the cash-box—but there was no blame on me—I did not ask for a character—I did not have enough to eat at Mrs. Nicholls's—I do not remember anything about a silk cape at Mrs. Nicholls's—it had nothing to do with me—I don't think Jane had enough to eat, because she complained—I did not complain to her—I did not tell my aunt that this girl was being starved—I went away in November, and never thought any more about it—the only reason I left there was because my attendance was required at the Court—there was nothing to bring this matter to my mind—I never heard of Jane until I heard about this case—I heard of Jane, and heard that she was being starved—I took great interest in her—I never went there—I went to my aunt—I have a very good memory—I have learnt things that come into my head—I learnt this letter by heart—I never saw the letter, and never heard it, except on Mrs. Nicholls reading it—I know it by heart—Mr. Yeo, the detective, came to me about this—I think my aunt wrote to Mrs. Popejoy, and gave my name—he told me he wanted me to go on the case—he did not tell me what to say—he asked me to tell him all about the case—he asked me to find out all I could, and

I told him, when I told the inspector about the case—I was then bound to give evidence before the Coroner—I went down to Bagshot on the second or third occasion—we had bacon for breakfast on two occasions when Jane came, the first two mornings—on one occasion Mrs. Nicholls pushed me across the room because I left some smears on the looking-glass—there was no other reason—I never had any row with Mrs. Nicholls—she buckled me—she told me I was deceitful and discontended—that was one of the reasons why I left, and the food—I never quarrelled with her—she found fault with me about the letters—Jane wrote the same week as she came—I stayed very nearly a fortnight after—I talked of this matter with my aunt—I have not read over my evidence in the paper—I have not looked at the papers—I remember the words of the letter—(the witness repeated them)—I have left out the words "Kensington Gardens," and the words "a kind mistress," and "I go out with the invalid," and "am very happy"—I did not think of it—I did not tell the Coroner that I knew the letter by heart—I remember the letter—I was very good friends with Jane—she had no tiff while I was there—I never saw her write—she never wrote to me—Mrs. Nicholls said she suffered with her heart and the legs—the daughter was paralysed—she is eighteen—Mrs. Nicholls was with her all day long—Mrs. Harrington is very old—she said she was over eight-six—Mrs. Nicholls came downstairs the first day I went there—not again—she never got up till nine in the morning—the house was shut up when the last post had come—we waited up for that—I used to sit up for it, and then I had to go and bolt the door—Mrs. Nicholls used to go to bed about eight, a little after the invalid—she slept in Mrs. Nicholls's room—the invalid used to scream sometimes, not always, and she used to kick outside our door, and throw her arms about on the bed—when she was washed she struggled at times, she has not scratched me—she never tried to kick me, or anybody—she used to roll about when we made the bed—she was violent at times—Jane never complained to me about anything that Mrs. Nicholls had done to her—I never told her about my being starved—I did not tell her that I did not get sufficient to eat—I said we did not, both of us—I told my aunt about the letter after I had been before the Coroner—not before I told the Coroner about the letter—not all—I did not think of it—I have recollected it now—I have only been to Inspector Greet once—in November—he came to me—I saw him at Paddington Station—Mrs. Popejoy told me she did not recollect the letter—I have never talked to Mrs. Harrington about it—I have not said, "How came Janey to write such a letter?"—she did not know what was in it—it was dictated in the bedroom—when I went into the bedroom I stood by the bed—she dictated the letter while I was in the room—she said she would give me a flogging for telling Janey to write—the envelope was there—she was always in the bed-room unless she went out in the cart, and I pushed behind—it was Mrs. Nicholls who fetched my aunt to come and see me—I went back to my aunt—I had no other home to go to—I told her why I ran away—then I went to Mrs. Lewis in Silver Street—there was something about a cash-box—there was no blame on my part—a detective came and asked Mrs. Lewis if she had lost anything, and they charged me—but she said she had no suspicion—he said if she did not charge me she

would have to discharge me in his presence, and she did—no charge was made against me after that—I have never heard about Mrs. Nicholls losing a silk cape—I never heard of it till I was before the Coroner—I did not tell my aunt about it till afterwards, when I wrote home—I never discussed with Mrs. Popejoy or Mrs. Harrington what was in the letter—I have spoken to Mrs. Harrington, but not about the letter—she did not say why she wanted to know about it—I said the mistress asked her to do it—when Mrs. Nicholls pushed me across the room she was in a temper.

MARY JANE JANNAWAY . I am the wife of James Jannaway—the last witness is my neice—I remember her going into Mrs. Nicholls's service at 14, Pitt Street—I first went to get a message from her—I went and saw her and Mrs. Harrington—Mrs. Nicholls was very angry with Elizabeth because she caused her new servant to write this letter—I went to complain about Elizabeth not getting enough food—I did not tell her so—I told her she wanted to leave—she said she had plenty—Elizabeth said she did not—when I said she wanted to leave, Mrs. Nicholls said she did not wish to part with her—I said I wish her to leave at the end of the month—the next week I got another letter from Elizabeth and in consequence I went again to the house—Mrs. Nicholls said that Elizabeth bad taken a liberty with her new servant in asking her to write to her mother and she was very unhappy and cross about it—she called Jane Popejoy up—she was very tall, neat, and very good-looking—she looked healthy—we were in the passage—Mrs. Nicholls said they had fresh butter—half a pound—and good butter for their breakfast—she asked Jane to say that they did, and she did not answer—Mrs. Nicholls stamped her foot and told her to go to her work—I said I was very sorry that Elizabeth took the liberty—Mrs. Nicholls said it could not do any harm, and her mother had said she had plenty of tea and it would not hurt her.

Cross-examined. Elizabeth's father is living—she has been living with me fifteen years—I am not aware that she has run away from any place before—I say I did not get sufficient food to eat at Mrs. Nicholls—I said both Jane and I did not get sufficient after I had been before the Coroner, not before—I told the Coroner about the letters, but not all—I did not think of it—I have recollected it now—I have been to Inspector Greet once—I never went to Yeo, he came to me—I saw him at Paddington Station—Mrs. Popejoy told me she did not recollect the letters she had—I have not talked to Mrs. Harrington about it—my aunt said, "How came Jane to write such a letter?"—she did not know what was in it—the dictation was in the bed-room—when I went into the room I stood by the bed, she dictated the letter while I was in the room—she said she would give me a flogging if I told Jane to write—the invalid was there—Mrs. Nicholls is very old—she said she was over 80—she came downstairs the day I went there, but not again—she never got up till 9 in the morning—we waited till the last post had come in, and then the house was shut up—Mrs. Nicholls used to go to bed about 8—I looked after the invalid girl—she slept in Mrs. Nicholls's room—she used to scream a good deal sometimes—not always—and used to kick out with her feet, and throw her arms out on the bed—when she was washed she struggled at times—she scratched me—she did not try to kick me or anybody—she used to roll about when we made the bed—she was violent

at times—Jane never complained to me about Mrs. Nicholls's violence to her—I never told my aunt that I was starved—I told her she had been in service just before at Mrs. Lewis's in Silver Street—before that she was in service at a baker's in Johnson Street—I don't know where she was before that—I don't remember her being in service at Hammersmith—she has lived with me about four years—I remember her being in Munden Street—I had forgotten that—it has just come into my mind—I don't know of her running away—she came to me—I went down the week before, and wanted to have her home—there had been a disagreement—the first time I went to Mrs. Nicholls—it was in consequence of a postcard—the second time Elizabeth sent a written message to Mrs. Nicholls—on the second occasion I don't know whether it was from Mrs. Nicholls—Elizabeth sent word that Mrs. Nicholls wanted to see me—I have talked this over with my neice, not with Mrs. Harrington—I wrote to Mrs. Popejoy—I did not know her address before, I took it out of The Daily Mail—I did not think that Jane was being starved—I have enough to do to look after two orphans—if I had thought she was being starved I should certainly have taken some course—I did not think she was being starved—when my girl came home I wrote to Mrs. Stevens that she had come home, and had not taken anything not belonging to her.

Re-examined. Mrs. Nicholls never sent any answer at all.

EDITH GARRETT . I am sixteen, and am living at North End, Town Moor, Maidenhead, with my mother—I was formerly in the service of Mrs. Nicholls—I went there on December 23rd, 1896—she paid me £6 a year—when I entered her service Jane Popejoy was there—Jane had to do Mrs. Nicholls's room and take the invalid out—I had to do the work downstairs—we did the sitting-room between us—for the first month I was there we had our meals downstairs—we had bread and dripping, and bread and butter, and hard-boiled pudding and rice to eat—for breakfast we had sometimes bread and butter, and sometimes bread and dripping—we drank water, because there was no milk, or sugar for the tea—we could have had the tea if we had liked—we breakfasted between eight and nine—dinner came next—sometimes at two and sometimes at three—we had sometimes rice and sometimes hard-boiled pudding—the pudding was made of flour and water—we had meat from the beef-tea, but not every day—about three or four days—tea was between six and seven—we had sometimes bread and butter and sometimes bread and dripping, with water to drink—we could have had lea—we had no beer—nothing else except tea, without milk or sugar—there was no other meal—during the earlier month the housekeeper had her meals with us—in the house she was called Mrs. Harrington and Nanna—she kept the key of the larder—there was a difference in the meals on Sunday—no difference at breakfast or tea—for dinner we had a leg of mutton, cabbage, and potatoes—that was the diet for the first month, while Jane had her meals with the housekeeper and me—after that Jane had her meals in Mrs. Nicholls's bed-room—on the third floor—the invalid slept there—I sometimes took her meals up to her, and sometimes Jane fetched them—Mrs. Nicholls had her meals there too—the meals I took up to Jane were the same as I had downstairs—Jane got the same as I did—that continued while Jane was in the

service—Mrs. Nicholls had the same number of meals as we did, but earlier—she had sometimes roast mutton twice a week, and sometimes 1/4 lb. of rump steak, and on Saturdays a slice off the fresh leg of mutton—for breakfast she sometimes had tomatoes and mushrooms or meat, and for tea bread and butter and jam sometimes—Mrs. Harrington sometimes had what was left from Mrs. Nicholls's meals, and sometimes it was put into the larder, of which she had the key, to be kept for Mr. Nicholls—Jane Popejoy did not always get the whole of the meals—it was Mrs. Nicholls's orders to the housekeeper that she was not to have them—she would send me down to the housekeeper to say she was not to have some particular meal—if she had her breakfast she would not have her dinner, and if she had had her dinner she would not have her tea—she was only deprived of one meal a day—it would happen two or three times a week, for the last part of the time, about four or five months—Jane complained of the food from the first, before she was cut off with the meals, she complained to the housekeeper—it was never followed by her getting any more food—in the early months we sometimes got two, and sometimes three slice of bread and butter—it was not enough—I managed on it—I could not have got more for the asking—the amount depended on the house-keeper—I could have eaten more if it had been better—in the spring of 1897 Jane's complaints still continued—she sometimes used to go out into the street and pick up the crusts—she did that about the middle of the last part of the time—it was after she had been cut off with a meal—I don't know if it was as a punishment—she bad a dirty head and Mrs. Nicholls used to throw it up at her—I have seen her pick up crusts—I saw her pick up crusts on our way to the post-office in Duke's Lane—it was close to Pitt-Street—she would sometimes eat them and sometimes put them into her pocket—she hid them in her apron until she had time to eat them—she took them home and eat them there—she would go into the scullery—I saw her eating them there—I remember her going out alone at night sometimes—once she was out an hour, but generally less than that—when she came in Mrs. Nicholls would ask her where she had been, and Jane would say she had been out to get food because she was hungry—Mrs. Nicholls would pull her into her room and begin fighting her with a stick—she would hit her across the back, and arms, and legs with the stick—I have seen her do it—it was a walking-stick—it was kept for beating, not for walking—I have seen it more than once—it began before we went to Southsea—we went there in the August of last year—whilst this was going on Mrs. Nicholls used to send me downstairs, and whilst going down I could hear screams—they were in Jane's voice, because the invalid screamed like a child—she submitted to it—I never saw her strike back, she was afraid because Mrs. Nicholls should beat her so—if she had beaten me I should have stood it because I am so easily frightened—Mrs. Nicholls has a very strong will—I was frightened of her—Jane did not give in like I did—I do not know why she did not strike Mrs. Nicholls—I do not know if she was strong at the time—she did not look as well then as she had looked—she was at first strong and healthy, but she was not so stout as I was when I went there—she got thinner, and also whilst we were at Southsea—she began to get thinner, not long before we went to Southsea—I saw her pulled into the room two or three times before we went to

Southsea, and it went on whilst we were there, and when we came back—afterwards she could hardly move about—that was the last month before she went away—at that time she did Mrs. Nicholl's bedroom—she had to go out—I sometimes went out to wheel the chair, and Jane had to walk by the side—if I did not push the chair Jane had to do it—just before we went to Southsea Mrs. Nicholls hit Jane on the left foot with a hammer—we were doing the room, so as to leave it tidy—Mrs. Nicholls was sweeping the walls and a picture fell down, and she told Jane to get a hammer and put a nail in—Jane put it in too high, and Mrs. Nicholls took the hammer out of her hand and gave her a blow on the foot with it—Jane was wearing house boots—she screamed, and said, "Oh, my foot"—Mrs. Nicholls did not do anything for her—I slept in the same bed as Jane, and I saw her foot that night—it was swollen and red, and two or three days afterwards it was bruised—I did not see it again—once we were coming in from Kensington Gardens, and when we got to the gate of 14, Pitt Street Mrs. Nicholls pulled her into the hall and began beating her with a dog-whip and an umbrella—it had been a dog-whip, but the thong was off—Jane screamed—it was in the afternoon—there was a man named Smallbones, who used to deliver milk on the other side of the road—the invalid had been out, too—I had pushed the chair—I do not know why Janie was beaten then—I forget if the invalid had been particularly ill that day—Mrs. Nicholls had been calling both of us names at the gate—she called us bitches, hogs, devils, and sows—she always used to call us names, unless both of us were there—she called us by our proper names before people—once she had a stick in her hand, and she called me a name, but I ran downstairs before she could strike me—Jane never ran away—I do not know why—the time we brought home the invalid Jane did not look well—she was not allowed to go out of the house without me or Mrs. Nicholls, but she did do so sometimes—Jane had some scratches on her face, a broken nose, and a black eye—the scratches were inflicted by the invalid—her nose was broken by Mrs. Nicholls with a stick in her bed-room—I do not know that Jane had been doing anything—I was present when the stick was used—I was close to the door, and I saw Mrs. Nicholls smack her across the face—it was done intentionally—it was not an accident—the girl cried out—I saw her with bruises on her legs and arms—they were inflicted by the stick and kicks—Mrs. Nicholls held the stick and gave the kicks—I did not see the black eye given, but she did it—I don't know how long she had it for—it could be seen, but Mrs. Nicholls made a shade to go over it, so that people could not see it—she had bruises before we went to Southsea—whilst we were there and when we returned—she slept with me up till the time she went away—she was thin and very ill, and could not get about to do anything—she went out of the house from time to time during the last fortnight—the chair was taken out, but Jane was too ill to push it and I had to do so—I have forgotten if she went out during the last fortnight—I remember on one occasion her coming in and falling on the stairs—I don't know when it was—I don't know if we had been to Southsea or not—I did not help her—she was up when I got to her—she was very ill and thin, and could scarcely walk—she smelt of drink at the time, but that was the only occasion I noticed it—I think it was at the end of

November—that was long after our return from Southsea—I think we were at Southsea a month—I remember being in the gardens when she fell down—that was not very long before she went away—I don't remember if it was before or after she fell up the stairs—when that happened Mrs. Nicholls was out with us—she saw her fall—the invalid was in her chair then—Jane fell again the same day in Duke's Lane on our way to the gardens—I was pushing the chair—we went to the Albert Memorial—Mrs. Nicholls was with us—she saw both the falls—in Duke's Lane Jane was on one side of the chair and Mrs. Nicholls the other, and she turned round and saw Jane fall—when we got to Kensington Gardens we were sitting down—I had the chair in front of me, but Jane had to walk about to keep her feet warm, and she fell down then—I have not seen any marks on other parts of Jane's body besides those I have mentioned—I remember Mrs. Nicholls saying that she put her hands-round her throat, and said that would afterwards save her trouble, and she left the print of her fingers on her throat—that happened at Southsea—and once before the girl left, about three days before she went away, she knocked her head against the bedstead—that was not at the time her head was dirty—she had a dirty head at the beginning, the first day she came—and, I told Mrs. Nicholls, and she and I cleaned it between us—after that she did not suffer from a dirty head—I remember on one occasion Jane saying something about writing to her mother—Mrs. Nicholls would stand and hit her across the hands if she did not write what she told her—she was to say she had a kind mistress and a comfortable place—sometimes the girl used to write it, and sometimes she stood with the pen in her hand, and Mrs. Nicholls would stand and hit her across the hands if she did not do it—I said, "You can write home"—she said, Yes, Mrs. Nicholls tells me what to say, and stands by my side to see if I have done it"—she used to tell me the same, and I used to write what she told me—that was to my mother—I used to see Jane do it sometimes—when I used to be putting the paper into the envelope—Mrs. Nicholls had told me and Jane to do some washing, as she said we had nothing to do, but we did not do it—she did not say we were to go without food if we did not do it—my wages were not paid when due—Mrs. Nicholls used to keep it in my book and give 5s. at a time to my mother—not to me—for stockings or shoes, and sometimes she would send sums home to my mother—Jane was not paid her wages—she never had any money, not as much as would pay her way to Bagshot—I remember Jane leaving with Mrs. Broughton—she was very ill that day—I had noticed her cough—not for very long—about the last part of the time—after she left I stayed on at Pitt Street for some weeks, then I saw my mother and she took me home—I had some talk with Mrs. Nicholls on leaving—she said nothing to me about leaving—I was called as a witness before the Coroner at Bagshot, and then told my story, and afterwards at Bow Street—I was not comfortable at Pitt Street—I had no money to go off with—my mother came to me in the Court—I had not seen her before—when Mrs. Nicholls spoke to me and Jane she spoke in a loud voice, not a kind voice—she called us names in a loud voice.

Cross-examined. I did not say she kept some of my wages—when I wrote home Mrs. Nicholls told me what to say, and she found the stamps

—I have said before that she told me what to write—she used to tell me what to put in my letters to my mother—I did not say she used to prevent it—I had not plenty of time to write—I was at work all the time—Mrs. Nicholls used to go to bed at eight o'clock, and she would get up again and sit up later—she used then to sit up till twelve o'clock—she did not go to bed till eight, because she used to sit up for the post in her bed-room—I never had time to write a letter by myself—I could not get any paper—sometimes Mrs. Nicholls posted the letter that I wrote, and sometimes I did—when I wrote home at first I did not show Mrs. Nicholls the letter—I did not tell her that my mother had diphtheria, or my brother—my mother told me that Miss Chambers had taken a letter to her stating that diphtheria was bad—my mother did not write it—that statement is not true—I know Miss Chambers by sight—the girl Jane was treated in this way the whole time—I was sixteen last July—I was born near Maidenhead in 1880—there was nothing the matter with me—I was perfectly healthy and strong—when I came away I was much thinner than when I went there—I suggest that I was starved—I was 28 inches in the waist, I am now 26 inches—that is a matter of complaint—I swear I was thinner than when I went there—I did not say before the Coroner that Jane did very well on it, and there was nothing the matter with her—on two occasions I went down for the purpose of giving evidence on behalf of Mrs. Nicholls—I was ready to give evidence for her—the people shouted and made a noise at me, and I was frightened—the police did not say that if I did not say the same as the other witnesses I should be prosecuted—I said if I did not say what was true I should he had up for perjury—the people told me that—I was not afraid of the people—I was afraid of Mrs. Nicholls—I remember Mr. Hazlewood coming to see me—I believe it was on a Monday, soon after I had gone away—it was after the first hearing, I think—I was then in Mrs. Nicholls's house—I had talked the matter over with her, and she had told me if I was asked I was to Ray so-and-so—Mrs. Nicholls was not present when Mr. Hazlewood came—Mr. Saurin was there—Mrs. Nicholls was by the door-way, and threatened what I should get if I said anything different—she said she would send Lord Justice Charles to put me in prison all my life—Mrs. Nicholls did not tell me to be sure to tell the truth, and not take any notice of what people said in the papers—Mr. Hazlewood did not come to me again and ask if I had talked the matter over with Mrs. Nicholls at all—I do not remember him asking me to Tell him all I know about the matter—I saw him write things down as I told him—they were untrue—I was still in lire. Nicholls's house—I had known Mr. Saurin before—I do not know if he would have protected me—they were all untrue except about the girl's head, all untrue except that—Mrs. Nicholls dared me to say anything—I told Mr. Hazlewood that Mr. Popejoy came while Jane was there, and Mrs. Nicholls said she looked ill and thin—she told him that Jane said she did not feel ill—I told him that Jane was a very dirty girl—Mrs. Nicholls told me to say that—I was not thinner before—Mrs. Nicholls told me to say that I slept with Jane for two nights, and afterwards in a different room because she was so dirty—Mrs. Nicholls did not say I might have the other room—she made me sleep in the same bed—I told Mr. Hazlewood that I saw the things in her head

and that I had told Jane about it, and that she had denied it—I told Mrs. Nicholls a few days afterwards I washed her head and cut the hair off—I said she had some sores on her neck and on her chest—I put some castor oil on them—that was true—I told Mr. Hazlewood that the girl stumbled about—I remember when she fell downstairs with a can; that was after the blow with the hammer—that was the only bad foot she had—that was caused by the hammer just before we went to Southsea—the last ten days before she went away she would fall down when she was not carrying anything—as she broke so many things, Mrs. Nicholls told me to carry the things—that was true, I said, "Jane made no complaint to me about Mrs. Nicholls"—that was not true—she complained when she had the beatings—I said, "And never asked to be sent home, and said she did not want to go home"—Mrs. Nicholls told me to say that, and that "she had plenty of food, exactly the same as I did"—she did have the same—it is untrue to say, "Besides that she had cocoa and milk; she told me she was alway hungry and could go on eating for ever"—I said that, but she told me she was hungry—Mrs. Nicholls told me to say she could go on eating for ever and ever, she had a very good appetite—she would eat four times as much as I did—Mrs. Nicholls told me to say that—and "when she went to bed I heard her crying once"—that was true—I asked her what was the matter, and she said her foot was hurting her and Mrs. Nicholls said she was crying because she did not want to go home—she told me to say, "Her father and mother beat her"—that was untrue, and also that "I do not think that she bad anything the matter with her nose or her body"—Mrs. Nicholls told me to say that—I do not remember it being taken down a second time—this is untrue: "I have never been away since I came to Mrs. Nicholls, and I have never seen her struck"—she would never wash her clothes—we did not quarrel—we only had a little squeeze once—I never used strong language to her—those expressions about "bitches, hogs, sows, and devils" were Mrs. Nicholls's own words—I do not know what they mean—I made that statement, but all that is important to Mrs. Nicholls is untrue, and I said it because I was afraid of her—I do not know if she was very poor—I know she was not a lady—it was a very small house—I know there was no furniture in the ground-floor rooms—they were shut up—on the basement there was a kitchen and a larder—the first floor was used as Mrs. Nicholls's bed-room—above that was our room—when I went there there was no other servant, only Mrs. Harrington—she is very old—Mrs. Nicholls sometimes went up to our room—she would sometimes send me down with messages to say that Jane was not to have some particular meal—I took the messages—I thought it was very unjust—Mrs. Harrington knew it—I told her—on those occasions she had not had a meal upstairs already—that was done two or three times a week for four or five months—Jane com plained, but only of the quantity, not of the quality—I have not been in service before—only obliging people—I never complained to Mrs. Nicholls that I was ill—I never asked to see a doctor—I never wanted one—I was never out alone—I mean to say that during the thirteen months I was there I never went out alone, only with Jane—we passed many policemen in the street, but we did not go up to one and

say that Mrs. Nicholls was ill-treating us, because she had dared us not to say anything—I often interfered to protect this unfortunate girl—I got a blow once across my arm—I don't know how often I went out without Mrs. Nicholls—we once went out after she had gone to bed—Mrs. Nicholls did not beat me, only on one occasion, I said, and it is, true, that I did not know why she did not beat me, but only Jane; on that single occasion I ran away—I never had any friends to see me—the butcher boys came to the house with messages, but I did not know them—the things were brought downstairs—I was too frightened to tell anybody who came to the house and let them make the trouble—I had never been in London before I came to this place—my mother did not take me away—she never saw the papers—I had seen the papers before I gave my evidence before the Coroner—I had not heard Dr. Osburne's evidence before I gave mine—I read it—Mrs. Nicholls told me to read it over her shoulder—I went down to give evidence on behalf of Mrs. Nicholls, and one day I was sitting in the Court and my mother came and spoke to me, and took possession of me—I saw a policeman, and the people told me if I did not tell the truth I should be tried for perjury—that was before I gave my evidence—I had an anonymous post-card sent me telling me to speak the truth, because I knew what was the truth and because I was in the house—every time I went out from Pitt Street the people shouted at me—I do not know that Jane hid the crusts from me because she was afraid of me—I do not know Mrs. Carter, the witness—if she says that I took the crusts away from Jane it is untrue—it was a dirty piece of crust, but not what she gave her—I did not like to see her eat it—I only thought the girl was going to die when Mrs. Nicholls told me so—I never heard about the mark on her foot until I heard of the hammer—I do not know that Mrs. Nicholls beat her except when she dragged her into the bed-room, but Jane said she did—I saw her being beaten—I said before the Magistrate: "Jane used to go out at night by herself—when she came home Mrs. Nicholls asked her where she had been—she said she had been out to get food, and Mrs. Nicholls used to pull her into the bed-room and send me downstairs, and then I heard screaming"—I heard her screaming and saw her beaten twice—I did not say once, I said twice—I saw Mrs. Nicholls strike her once in the face with a stick—it was not long before she left—I cannot say if it was about a month—I cannot say if it was before or after she began to tumble about—she did not fall down when the blow was struck—I do not know if it was before she got so weak that she could not stand—it was not five or six weeks, before—I do not know if it was more or less—I do not know if it was after we came back from Southsea—I forget—she had not got the bruises on her face when she went away—there was the mark where her nose was broken—I do not know if the blow broke her nose—there were two parts of her nose—her mouth or her nose bled—I said that there was blood before this once to Mr. Frayling—her nose stuck out in two parts longways—I do not know what the girl had done to merit the blow—I did not see anything—it was in Mrs. Nicholls's bed-room—it was a walking stick, but it had a piece off the end—it had a knob—no handle—I forget the colour—there was a stick in the house—I did know the colour, but I forget—the

dog whip was a short one—the thong was gone—the invalid girl was in the bedroom—Jane and the invalid screamed—I do not know if Mrs. Nicholls was very fond of her child—she seemed as if she was—I knew that the very least noise excited her and was very bad for her but she did it in spite of that—I cannot suggest any reason for it—Mrs. Nicholls was sweeping the room when she knocked down the picture—she told Jane to put in a nail—Jane put it in too high up and she seized the hammer out of her hand and gave her a blow on the foot—Jane was on the steps—the room is a little one—it is a sitting-room on the first floor—I am certain that Mrs. Nicholls hit her because she put the nail in too high up—I said before she put it in too high—Mrs. Nicholls took us both to Southsea—Jane was not in a very bad state of health when we went—she was ill, but not very ill—I do not know whether she was in a certain way at certain times—I do not knowr if her clothes used to get wet—she was not dirty in her habits—I did not notice that she made water in her clothes—I did not make complaints about her making water in bed—a lot of her clothes were wet—they had been put in a bath of water—it was a rusty bath—I do not know that her clothes were wet in another way—she slept with me in the bed—she was constantly getting up at night—when we went to Southsea we went in a cab from Pitt Street—the whole lot of us—young Harrington came afterwards—there was Jane and the invalid, and Mrs. Nicholls, Mrs. Harrington and myself—we went from Victoria—Mrs. Nicholls was very much engaged in looking after the invalid—the beatings had begun by then—there was no opportunity for us two girls to go away then—we could not make any communication to anyone then—we were close to her all the time—when Mrs. Nicholls pushed Jane into the gate and began to beat her, it was with a dog-whip and an umbrella—I said before there was a stick and there was also a dog-whip—there was a white terrier in the house—the whip was about two feet and not very thick—I don't know how long the lash had been off it—there was no lash on it when she beat Jane—she used one at a time—I don't remember whether it was the umbrella or the stick first—the umbrella broke and then she used the stick—I do remember that—I don't remember if she took the stick first—she got the stick from the hall table—the hall is dark and narrow—there is a little table near the door—she left the girl alone and then came back—I was getting the invalid out of the chair—Mrs. Nicholls gave her a poke with her umbrella and then went inside the hall with her—I was opening the gate and saw her take the stick off the hall table—I could see the table from the gate—she had the umbrella in her hand and put it down on a chair—Jane was standing in the hall crying—she had been struck then—Mrs. Nicholls gave her one blow with the umbrella and then laid it down—then with the stick and then with the umbrella, which broke, while I was at the gate—there was the invalid in the chair—I am quite sure she hit her on the back—the houses opposite are let in flats—this was between three and four in the afternoon—I do not know if Smallbones could hear what was said—Mrs. Nicholls was standing between the gate and the doorway—Jane was in the pathway—Smallbones was across the road and I suppose could have heard all the words—she did not speak very loudly, but she did not

whisper—Mrs. Nicholls helped me to take the invalid upstairs—Mrs. Nicholls used to make me lift the invalid out of the chair—I lifted her out on that day and she walked up the path—this took place near the time that Jane left—it was not dark—I don't remember if it was October or November—I am certain it was not getting dark—we had been in Kensington Gardens—she called us those names then—I don't know if the people in the houses could hear—if anybody was near she called us by our proper names—she never called me Edith when anybody was about—sometimes I let Mr. Saurin out, and sometimes he let himself out—I told him the people had frightened me—Mrs. Nicholls showed him a card I had had threatening me—he had an opportunity of seeing what was on that card—it said I was to speak the truth because I was in the house—there were several occasions on which I saw Mr. Saurin alone when he came to the houses—other people come to the house, Mrs. Webb-Peploe—I do not know if Mrs. Williams came—Lady Harrowby came—I did not complain to them—the marks on Jane's legs and arms were caused by Mrs. Nicholls kicking her—I remember her falling in Kensington Gardens, when the Policeman Marchant was there—she got up herself—Jane had the same to eat as Mrs. Harrington and I—I have told everything that Mrs. Nicholls did to this girl; there is nothing else—I interfered once and prevented Jane from being seriously hurt by Mrs. Nicholls—she might have been killed if I had Dot—I saw Mrs. Nicholls come at Jane with a rod-hot poker—I got in front of her and Mrs. Nicholls put the poker down—that is true—I did not think of it before the Coroner—I still say it is true—I was not very frightened on that occasion—I should not liked to have seen her hurt with a poker—I do not remember how long the cough lasted—she did not cough the whole time I was there—I said before, "Jane got thinner while I was there—she had a little cough all the time I was there—it got worse when we came back from Southsea—there was nothing else the matter with her"—that was true—she had a little cough all the time, and about three days before Jane left she was doing up Mrs. Nicholls's boots and knocked her head against the bedstead—Mrs. Nicholls kicked her—she was sitting in the chair—it, was just a few days before the girl died—she was in such a state that she could hardly walk about, and this woman kicked her and knocked her head against the bedstead—she did not do it violently—I do not know if Mrs. Nicholls was angry—Jane pulled some buttons off when she was fastening up her boots—she kicked her because of that—it would not have been sufficient to bruise her—the side of her head hit the bedstead—it was an iron bedstead—it was a push—it was her head not her face—she did not complain—my mother did write to Mrs. Nicholls.

Re-examined. The part of her head which hit the bed-stead would be covered by the hair—I first noticed that she had a cough not very long before we went to Southsea—it did not get better there, nor when we returned—during the last month the girl's cough got worse—I do not' remember when I first noticed the little cough—I do not remember how often Lady Harrowby came—she came last after Jane had left—she also came three days before Jane left, because I went to a take telegram—she came two or three days after the girl went home and three days before—I know that Lady Harrowby is connected

with the Travellers' Aid Society—I do not remember how often she came—I do not remember if she had been there since Southsea—I don't remember her ever being there before—Mrs. WebbPeploe did not come very often—Mr. Saurin came more often than the ladies—the gate is not very far from the passage door—it is a small garden—you can see it as you stand at the gate—the invalid can walk a little—the clothes which were in the bath wanted washing in the ordinary way—I did not know that this girl could not contain her water, or was passing water constantly—she got constantly out of bed at night—I do not know for what purpose—I slept in the same bed—I was never ill, and there was never any suggestion of sending for a doctor for Jane—just before she went, the night before, a doctor came to her—I had a conversation with Mrs. Nicholls after that—Mrs. Nicholls told me that Jane must be got home as quickly as could because she was not expected to live—I interfered once with Jane by taking away a dirty crust—I thought she was going to eat it—that was not very long before she went away—in regard to the evidence given by Mrs. Nicholls before the Coroner, the day before she was reading it from a newspaper and she told me to read over her shoulder—that was after the first hearing before the Coroner—I remained on with Mrs. Nicholls, and the next day went do with Mr. Saurin—Mrs. Nicholls spoke to me before she gave her evidence before the coroner—she spoke to me the same day that the Serjeant came and said the girl was dead—about giving evidence—I was alone with her at the time—she said, "You must keep from them that I ever beat her or ever touched her, or that there was a stick in the house"—I can read And write—I did not see any letter written by Mrs. Nicholls about this time.

By the COURT. Jane used to take food and things from off her mistress table and Mrs. Nicholls said she was to write a letter and ask forgiveness—Mrs. Nicholls said she was to write a letter about taking things—I did not see the letter until Mr. Frayling showed it to me—she used to take things from off her mistress' table and Mrs. Nicholls said she was to write a letter asking forgiveness—I did not know that Jane had taken things off the table—Mrs. Nicholls told me to say so before the Coroner.

MARY ANN GARRETT . I am the mother of the last witness living at Maidenhead—I have been living there ever since my daughter had been in the service of Mrs. Nicholls—on January 23th I went to Pitt Street and took her away—I had seen her down at the inquest and heard some of the evidence there—it was in consequence of that that I took her away, and in consequence of what she told me herself—I saw Mrs. Nicholls that evening and told her I had come to take the girl away, as I did not feel justified, after what I had heard and what my girl told me, in leaving her there—Mrs. Nicholls said it was not true, and begged me to leave the girl till the case had finished, as the doctor would be able to prove that the girl had died of consumption only—I said, "That may be so, madam, but I wish to take the girl home"—my daughter, Edith, was present at the last part of the conversation—Mrs. Nicholls appealed to Edith to confirm her statement that the girl not been starved or ill-used—at that time Edith had not given evidence before the Coroner—she said

only a few days she had knocked her bead against a place in the adjoining room—Mrs. Nicholls said it was her going to Bagshot on that day with Edith Garrett that they had tried to get hold of her, and told her what to say—she said she said to Edith, "Oh, Edith, if anyone had told me you would be so disloyal I would not have believed them"—from time to time I received letters from ray daughter while she was in the service—I have not the letters—Mr. Frayling has them—I received a portion of my daughter's wages in P. O. orders. Between my daughter going into the service and the inquest I never saw her—every letter I received was satisfactory—I thought she was all right, and I did notmind—Mrs. Nicholls wrote to me and I answered her—I remember Miss Chambers coming to see me—she brought a letter—I did not read the contents—I was told that we had diphtheria—I was shown the letter—it was not my writing—my eldest boy was in the house—we had not diphtheria—it was in January, 1897, that Miss Chambers came—she read part of the letter to me—it was a letter about my girl being ill—that was what was read to me—this letter looks like my writing, but I would not swear to it—(read)—"Madam,—I thank you for the letter telling me about Edith. I am pleased to say my boy is not ill. Please ask Edith to send me word. Yours respectfully, M. GARRETT"—that letter was to my daughter—I did not come up to see Mr. Nicholls—I sent 6s. to my daughter—that was before they went to Southsea—I never had any complaint from my daughter—I did not hear about this trouble in the papers—I heard it from Mrs. Netter to me—I read the letter while the inquest was going on—I received letters from my daughter, and received a portion of her wages by P.O. orders. Between the time of her going into the service and the inquest I never saw my daughter—every letter I received was satisfactory—I thought she was all right, and I didn't come—Mrs. Nicholls wrote to me and I answered her letters—I remember Miss Chambers coming, to see me on January 7th, 1897, and bringing a letter about my daughter—I did not see the contents—I was told it was all untrne—I was shown the letter—it was not my writing—it was about my girl being ill—Miss Chambers asked me if I had written a letter stating that my son had diphtheria—the letter looks like my writing, but I would not swear to it—I also wrote this letter: ("North End, Town Moor. January 16th, 1898. Madam,—I received your letter this morning, and I am very sorry to hear you have been ill. Although I do not wonder at it, as it is enough to break down the strongest person to have such terrible things said of you, after you had treated Jane with so much kindness, as it is not the lady in twenty who would have kept a girl on as you did Jane, when she must have been a great worry to you. I quite believe that Jane must have had reason to dread going home, or she would not have begged so hard for you to keep her on, as she must have suffered a deal of pain, although she would not own to it; and I do not believe it at all likely that a girl her age would have stayed fourteen months in a house where she was starved and beaten, as she would most certainly have Canted to go home, if she had a good mother and father to go home to. I shall be very glad to hear when it is all fettled, as I have never heard of such a case before. I am not at all afraid to trust you with Edith. Hoping

your health will improve.—I remain, yours respectfully, M. GARRETT.")—Mrs. Nicholls said she wanted me to leave Edith with her.

Re-examined. I also received this letter from Mrs. Nicholls—(Dated January 14th: "I have been too ill to thank you before for your most kind letter Mrs. Garrett. I shall never forget it as long as I live, or your faith and trust as regards your own child in face of this most cruel and unjust allegation. I am sorry to tell you the inquest has been postponed, and we had not to go yesterday. It is such a terrible ordeal for one in my state of health to be passing through, and every day it is prolonged gives rise to the fear that I may break down altogether, and this would be an awful calamity. I need all my strength and faculties to combat the awful lying allegations published in the weekly papers, I am told, though I am not allowed, by my legal advisers and friends, to read them. I know from what I saw at the inquest that they had gathered together very low persons whoever showed an enmity and illwill to give evidence against us. All this would matter nothing if the evidence could, as in a Court of Law, be rebutted as it arose, but a Coroner's Court is so different, and he seems to be taking all these witnesses first; Edith and my house-keeper, and a relative of my housekeeper's, who had lived in my house for a short time with Jane this year since Edith came, could all prove the poor creature's voracious appetite, and that far from ever missing a meal, she had five meals a day because she was so thin, one more than they ever had, and that far from ever being ill-treated, she was treated with the indulgence one would extend to a child. That was my only fault towards her, looking over, in answer to her prayers and entreaties, faults that no other human being would have excused, and, in time, compassion keeping her when others would over and over again have sent her away, and this is being brought against me now, as is the yielding to her entreaties not to see a doctor—she misled us altogether by her statements that she had no pain, that she slept well, and as she most certainly eat well up to the last moment, we never realised that she was in any serious condition, until the doctor saw her here on the 22nd, and told me, to my distress, that she was in the last stage of consumption, etc.")—Mrs. Nicholls said that the police had got hold of Edith and told her to say things against her—she said she wanted me to leave Edith with her.

EDWARD. JOSEPH SMALLBONES . I am a milkman in the service of Lund Brothers, Kensington—I have been in the habit of delivering milk at 16, Pitt Street—the next door to Mrs. Nicholls, who lived at No. 14—I knew Mrs. Nicholls—I knew the two servants Edith Garreet and Jane Popejoy—I saw them from time to time last year—when I first saw the deceased, Popejoy, she seemed very well in health—towards the end of the year she looked very ill—in November—I remember her pushing the perambulator along Pitt Street in the afternoon opposite No. 14—a scream attracted my attention—I saw Mrs. Nicholls pulling the deceased by the hair from the garden into the passage, and she then started knocking her about with a stick—the girl screamed, and I said to Mrs. Nicholls, "Why don't you leave the girl alone"—she said, "Mind your own business, or else I will call a policeman"—I stopped a few minutes—she slammed the door, ran to the front room window and started blowing a whistle—I remained about five minutes—I went on to my round—I afterwards saw the

deceased pushing a bathchair along the street—she could hardly posh it—Mrs. Nicholls walked beside her.

Cross-examined. I spoke to some other milkman about it the same afternoon—Mrs. Nicholls was just inside the passage by the mat—I heard Mrs. Nicholls going on, but could not hear what she was saying—it was about 2.30 p.m.—she blew the whistle loudly—I did not call a policeman because I did not want to get mixed up in it—seventeen milkmen are employed at Lund's—she was about five minutes before she went to the window—I did not see anyone else there—I used to gee them out with the invalid every day—it was not the invalid screaming, it was the girl—no crowd gathered—I gave evidence before the Coroner.

GEORGE HENRY TAYLOR . I am a page in service at 16, Pitt Street, next door to Mrs. Nicholls—I had been there five years—I knew the deceased as Janie—I first noticed her at Christmas, 1896—she was a strong robust girl—she went nearly every day with the invalid—I noticed a change in her about six months after she had been there—she began to look thin and weak—on two occasions I have seen Mrs. Nicholls strike her—the first was the end of October or the beginning of November, 1897—the girl was trying to get the chair from the road to the pavement with the invalid in it, and she did not appear to have strength to do it—Nicholls struck her across the back with an umbrella—no one was helping the girl—about three weeks later near the front gate I saw Nicholls take the girl into the hall by her ears, and strike her with a stick across the front of her body and in the face—the door was slammed, and the girl started screaming—the invalid was left on the pavement in the chair—it was about two p.m.—Edith Garrett came and took the invalid in—two or three weeks after this I noticed the deceased had a swollen nose, a black eye, and scratches on her face—I knew the difference between the deceased's voice and the invalid's voice from living next door—the wall is very thin—the girl screamed like a child—I have heard another scream, but could not say who it was—I heard it frequently—it was a woman's voice—I heard Mrs. Nicholls calling them brutal wretches, and fools and idiots—I have not heard any screams since Popejoy left—I have seen Popejoy and Garrett in the street—I have seen Popejoy picking up bread in the street that the people at the Carmelite Chapel throw away.

Cross-examined. I did not hear Smallbones give his evidence—I gave mine the same day—I made a statement to the detective—on December 29th he asked me if I had heard anything—I told him I had heard screams—I told about the cruelty to the Coroner—there was a great deal of feeling about Pitt (Street against Nicholls—crowds gathered—I heard screaming before eight a.m.—the passage was dark—I could not tee right along it—I never went for, a policeman, nor told anybody.

ELIZABETH CROXFORD . I am the wife of George Croxford, of 12, Pitt Street, the next door to 14—I remember the deceased coming there—she was a respectable, clean, nice-looking girl, and appeared in good health—after a time she got very much thinner—I saw bruises upon her face—in, October I told Mrs. Nicholls the girl looked as if she was being starved—she said she ate more than the other servants—I asked her if the girl had a father and mother, and she said "Yes"—I said if they knew the state she was in they ought to be ashamed of themselves—I heard screaming and words coming

from the house—the invalid cried sometimes—I could recognise that sometimes I heard the invalid, and at other times some one else—I heard some one fall down stairs, followed by a groan, one evening—I heard Mrs. Nicholls call them "cows and sows and a devil"—I saw the girl go away—she looked dreadfully bad.

Cross-examined. I heard more screaming before Jane Popejoy came than while she was there—Jane never complained to me of Mrs. Nicholls—I know Mrs. Nicholls, who frequently conversed with me and came in to see me—I did not mention the treatment of Jane to her, except what I have told you—I said nothing of the screaming.

ANNIE RODD . I am the wife of Norman Rodd, and keep a stationer's shop at 10, Holland Street, Kensington—I supplied Mrs. Nicholls with newspapers and periodicals—I handed them to her servants Garrett and Popejoy at the shop—when I first knew Popejoy she looked a healthy girl, the same as ordinary girls—towards the end of last year I noticed she was looking very bad—I spoke to my husband about it—when Mrs. Nicholls came to the shop I told her her girl was looking bad, and that I should be sorry to have a girl in the house looking like it—she told me she sent the girl away for a holiday, because she was so ill, to her home, and she told the people her mother had starved her, her mother heard of it and said, "I will tell your father," and the girl wrote to her dear mistress to come back again, that the girl ran away from her back to her dear mistress and the young lady—I again said she looked very ill; she looked starved—she had a voracious appetite, and that I knew her other girl, and she looked well enough—shortly before she left I saw her pass the shop with the invalid—she looked very bad.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Nicholls has dealt with us two years—the girls came to pay for the Sunday papers, generally in the afternoon—I never saw any marks of bruises on Jane—I often wondered the girls did not complain—Mrs. Nicholls did not say she had sent the girl to Southsea for a month—I know she had not been away except when she went to Southsea—I knew Mrs. Nicholls had gone to Southsea.

ELLEN LORD. I am the wife of William Lord, of Duke's Lane, Kensington—I knew Mrs. Nicholls and the deceased by sight last year—I used to see the girl Popejoy wheeling the invalid chair about—I first spoke to her in the autumn—she asked me for food one evening—I gave her some food—afterwards she came frequently to the house in the evening—twice a week—she asked for food, and I gave it to her—she always took it away, sometimes in her hand, except the last time, when the other servant came round the corner and she went away without it, and joined her.

Cress-examined. I did not tell the Coroner nor the Magistrate that she ran away—I did not see anything the matter with the other girl—neither of them looked very clean.

ANNIE POPPLEWELL . I am the wife of Charles Arthur Popplewell, of 2, Duke's Lane, Kensington—I used to see the deceased girl out with an invalid chair—I remember her coming to my house the second week in November for something to eat—that was the first time we had spoken—I gave her some bread and cheese or butter—she put it in her pocket—she came again one morning, and once about dinner-time—I gave her

some food every time she came—three times—the first occasion she knocked at the door, the third occasion I saw her looking up at the window—she looked very thin and miserable—the last time I saw her she had a black eye—that was about the end of November.

Cross-examined. She had no shade over her eye—I said before the Coroner she seemed frightened of the other girl—she was—I described the other girl as being all right, fat, well, and very impertinent.

Re-examined. I said to Edith Garrett once it was pouring with rain—that was the only time I ever spoke to her—Garrett was with Popejoy each time I saw her—not when I gave her food—she left her company to get it, and then rejoined her.

Friday, April 29th 1898.

ELIZABETH BENNETT . I am the wife of Harry Bennett, living at 4, Duke's Lane—I knew Jane Popejoy by sight—I first saw her in 1896—she seemed a very respectable girl—she looked very healthy and very clean—my attention was again called to her about three months before she left Mrs. Nicholls's service—I saw a large bruise on her left-hand over the back of the hand—she had come to ask me for food—she had never asked me before—I had never spoken to her before—I gave her some food—I had some conversation about the bruise—after that she came several times for food—about the last fortnight I noticed she had a cough—I gave her food and a halfpenny to buy cough drops—I have seen her out on several occasions with Mrs. Nicholls, and with the other servant, Edith Garrett—on the last occasion I saw her out she fell down—she seemed to fall as if she was very weak—it was at the end of Duke's Lane—Mrs. Nicholls and the chair, and the other servant were there—she got up by herself, and followed the mistress going in the direction of Kensington Gardens—I have also seen a scratch on her face—I have seen her with Edith Garrett on other occasions than this one—she seemed frightened of her, I think—I never spoke to Mrs. Nicholls about the condition of the girl—I had reason for speaking, and I was stopped.

Cross-examined. I live close, in Duke's Lane, No. 4—I knew the girl practically all the time she was there, and she looked pretty strong and healthy when I first knew her—I have children of my own—I have never had a girl who has had certain troubles in a certain way—I did not see this girl pretty often—she was sometimes with Edith Garrett and sometimes with the prisoner—she asked me for food, and I gave her some—I noticed she was getting very thin and very dirty—I thought she looked ill about three weeks before she went away—I do not remember them going to Southsea—there was a very marked change in the girl about November, about two months before she died—I did not notice it in October—there was a marked change, and when she changed she changed very fast—I noticed particularly that she seemed very weak on her legs—I noticed that she limped very much during the last two or three days—she did not shuffle like an old woman—there was an injury to one of her legs or her foot—I did not notice that she pushed her feet along instead of walking—I think she was frightened of Edith Garrett—I formed that opinion—I did not see her just a day or two before she went away.

Re-examined. She did not seem frightened of anybody else—she said

she was frightened of Edith Garrett, because Edith Garrett told the mistress—she first came to me for food about three months before she left—she did not then seem to be ill or lame—she looked as if she was getting very thin, but not ill in the way she was afterwards.

EDITH GARRETT (recalled by MR. HALL). I know that Jane burned her finger taking a coal off the fire—I do not remember that she had a broken finger when she came—I saw her take the coal out of the fire—Mrs. Nicholls told her to take some coal off her fire—there were some tongs, but she took it off with her fingers, and she burnt it then—that was not very long before she went away—I only wrote home to my mother when Mrs. Nicholls gave me the paper, and dictated the letters—those are the only occasions I wrote—that applies to the whole of the time—Mrs. Nicholls gave me the paper and envelopes—I could not get any paper because it was locked up—she gave me the ordinary sheets of note-paper,. I remember my mother sending me 6s., and Mrs. Nicholls, directly the parcel was opened, put it into her wardrobe—that is true—this piece of paper is not a sheet of note-paper (produced)—Mrs. Nicholls would give me any piece of paper—I said just now that she gave me ordinary pieces of paper—that is my writing—(read)—"Dear Mother and Father,—My mistress got these orders, and was going to send them to you yesterday, but I thought I would write and send them myself. Jane and I are going to the Natural History Museum with the ladies this week, and next week we are going with them to the South Kensington Museum, and before the weather gets too hot we are going to the Zoological Gardens, and I won't wait to write no more now, because the mistress is anxious for me to post the money.—Yours truly, from your loving daughter, E. GARRETT"—I did in fact post the money to my mother on that occasion in a postal order—this letter is also in my writing—(read)—"Dear Father and Mother, and all of them,—The mistress says I must get Post Order, and send you my money and send the children things I made, but it won't be to-morrow, because to-morrow we are going to see the Queen again, and last Monday the ladies took us in the carriage to see the Queen's State entry into London, and we was so close to her that we could have leaned over and touched her, and oh, it was a sight to see all the Life Guards and Grenadiers, and the other soldiers and thousands of police and as to people, well I couldn't have believed there was so many people in all the world, and to-morrow she is coming here to Kensington, and we got great doings, and I will buy a Kensington paper, and put it in the parcel when I sends it. We didn't go away after all as the weather wasn't very hot up to Jubilee Day. If it had been we should ha gone; I glad we stopped here to see the sights, and we shall go to the seaside at the end of next month, and tell all the little one I seen the Queen quite close, and how Jonny do in his suit.—love to all, from your loving daughter, E. GARRETT—I done my hat before Jubliee, and look very nice"—that was also written from the dictation of Mrs. Nicholls—I swear it—Mrs. Nicholls told me what to put in it—we went to 42, Granada Road, Southsea—(read)—"Dear mother,—This is a lovely place, there is so much a going on and to see, and oh, the sea is grand, I never could a thought it were like that We are quite close to the sea, and our windows looks right on to it, and the air do come in lovely at the open windows. There

is such a beautiful pier quite close, and the mistress is a going to take us all to a concert on it on Saturday, and this afternoon she is going to take us all for a drive in the carriage, and Jane will have to sit up with the coachman, like she did before, cause there ain't room for us all else and it all so beautiful, and I will send you my August money when it due 23rd and you can get me what you likes, and put the rest in the bank for me, cause the mistress likes us to be saving, but she thinks I ought to get some little presents for the children here, and send them when we get back at the end of September.—E. GARRETT"—That letter was written in the presence of Mrs. Nicholls, and from her dictation—she made me write it—she had not a stick in her hand—they are Mrs. Nicholls's words—the words, "Oh, the sea is grand, I never could have thought it was like that," are Mrs. Nicholls's—the 6s. which was sent she put into her wardrobe—(Another letter: "Dear Father and Mother and all of them,—I got the parcel quite safe yesterday, and I like the apron very much indeed, and thanks you much, and I shall make the linen aprons some day, but I ain't in no hurry for 'em; this ain't a place for wearing out many clothes; and I found the 6s. in the parcel, and the mistress say it were too kind of you to send, but she thought I might ha' let you keep that, hut I didn't ask you for it now, and I am going to put 6s. more to it on the 23rd, so that will be 12s. I shall have to put in the bank first start, and I think that is a good lot. The girl whose place I took started her book with 5s., but she didn't put more away the first year, and I haven't been a year yet, and got 12s. She were here five years, and had saved a good bit in that time, and she only had the same wages as I do when she left, and the mistress will arise mine when we get into the next house if I behaves well, and the young lady were so amused at George's pigs going to market, and they were very sorry to hear George were ailing again, and so be I, and love to all, and I were so sorry not to send to Johnny a card on his birthday; but Christmas is very near, and then they shall all have some.—From your loving daughter, E. GABBKCT Saturday."—Mrs. Nicholls dictated that letter to me, except "Dear Mother and Father, and all of them"—those are my own words—they are in pencil—it was written during the inquest—(Another letter: "Dear Mother and Father, and all of them,—I send back the papers, thank you very much for sending them; the books was ordered before Christmas, but we thinks it better not to send them off until this affair is settled, and I wants to ask you not to take any notice of any lying things you sees in the paper, 'cause there ain't a word of truth in it. That poor Jane used to eat a lot more than I did, and I got a good appetite, as you nows, and I looks well and feels well—if she didn't it were because she were in a consumption, and wasted away, and it is the most awful lies to say she were ever ill-treated in this house since I been in it, and that is over a year, you know, and she were only here fourteen months; when all comes out, and our doctors have a fair hearing, it will be proved clear enough she died of consumption, and she got her bruises and all that a falling about, as she used to, and she always used to pretend she fall over things she left on the stairs, she never would say it was from weakness. She had two bad falls out of doors about ten days or a fortnight afore she went home, but she wouldn't let us look to see if she were hurt, and when

she left here, just before Xmas Day, she walked down the stairs and along the hall by herself, and the lady that took her home says she walked across the line at one place were they changed trains; but she only lived four days after she got home, and now they wants to say, 'cause she was so thin, that she was starved, and 'cause she had bruises that she were beaten. I can swear that she were never either beat or starved, and so can the housekeeper. We all had meals together, and all had the same, only she eat so much more than we did and 'cause she were so thin she had cocoa with milk instead of always tea, and don't you take no notice of what's in the paper, nor get frightened about me. I mean to speak the truth. The mistress have always been very kind to me, and she was more so still to her, 'cause she wern't so strong as me. Have the little ones spoilt their things I sent just before Christmas yet? Tell them I shall send them another parcel soon, but I ain't got time to look up anything just now, and give my best love to all of them. And did Kate and Charley go to Sunday-school, as George said they were? And what about Johnny? The young lady were so amused with George's donkeys and trees as he drawed on his last letter. The mistress have always taken such an interest in George's case, 'cause I told her about his rumatics, and she suffers so with it herself, and she is so feeling with anybody that got anything the matter with them.—From your loving daughter, EDITH GARRBTT."—Mrs. Nicholls told me to write that letter also—I put in the words, "Have the little ones spoilt the things I sent them," etc., without my mistress telling me—I wrote that letter, and it is all untrue—I wrote it because I was afraid of my mistress—I also wrote this letter during the Coroner's inquest:—" Dear Father and Mother and all of them,—We are going down at the end of the week I think to Bagshot and don't you and father let nothing as they puts in them lying papers frighten you about me. Why one of them lying reporters came here and tried his very utmost to make me tell what evidence I was going to give, and told me I should have to say the same as Jessie, a lying cat, as was here afore Jane came. Jane took her place and Jessie left in awful disgrace, got about with soldiers and stole things and all that, and now in her spite as been and told the police that she was ill-used and all that. The housekeeper says it is an awful lie and I am sure it is; the mistress wouldn't hurt anyone. I'm sure of that and I shall tell the truth when I goes and don't care what anybody says, and don't you fear as anybody will hurt me. I shall be took good care of both here and down there. Why, the liars wants to make out that the mistress held her and to every letter she wrote home, and the mistress never ever see her write a letter, she done 'em all in the kitchen, and used to show me some of 'em and they was all full of the mistresses kindness to her, and oh mother she was good to her, helping her to clean her dirty stinking head and all that. I wouldn't sleep with her, and that's how the mistress found out her head was dirty and she gave her notice to leave directly, but Jane was so precious'artful and cunning she always managed to get over the mistress to keep her. Why, she had notice to leave a dozen times, and sorry enough the poor mistress must be now that she didn't make her go. If you are sent to about my wages please tell 'em that you asked £6 a year for me to be raised every 6 months, and now it is got to

£8 a year, and that my mistress wished when I first came I always sent my wages home to you to lay out for me, and both you and me is very satisfied ain't we, and she always begged Jane to send hers to her mother, but no not her though she did send the postal orders for any things they sent her, and she bought a lot of clothes, and oh the lots of sweets and apples and rubbish she used to buy, and she owed the mistress a lot of money when she left, but people seem so spiteful because she didn't go home with a pocket full of money, and I think that's enough about her, and how is all the little ones. Mistress want's to know how George is. She is very bad herself, and no wonder, and she says I urn to please thank you very much for your kind letter which she will answer when she is a little better. Tell the children I always ment to go home for a little holiday as soon as We had got comfortable settled in our new house. This will put it off a little, but I shall come tell them, and they may look out for a big parcel when I do, and I will get a postal order and send it in a few days out of this month's money, and from your loving daughter E. GARRETT. Tuesday. We only went out once." They were to deceive my own mother those letters—my mistress told me all except about my little brothers—one of the envelopes is addressed by Mrs. Nicholls—the rest are addressed by me—I still say I was unable to write home to my people without the supervision of my mistress.

MR. MATHEWS. The 6s. I spoke of in one of my letters I was going to put to a further sum of 6s., hut my mistress took it and put it in her wardrobe and locked it—the money was kept until some time in December—I do not remember the date—this is a post office savings bank book—it starts on December 16th—I went with Mrs. Nicholls to pay the money in.

By the COURT. We went once to see the Queen.

AMELIA CARTER . I am the wife of William Carter, of Duke's Lane Chambers, Kensington—I knew Jane Popejoy by sight—I noticed her 6 or 7 months before Christmas—I took my breakfast cloth one day to shake it and she picked up the crusts which fell from it—that was in the summer—I asked her if she was hungry and would she like something to eat—she declined at first, but after a time she returned and asked me if I would give her something to put in her pocket—I gave her something—she after that came to my house on two occasions in the afternoon and more often in the evening—she came for food, which I gave her—in the October of last year she came to me and her face was very much scratched—she had a black eye and a sore on the bridge of her nose—I know Edith Garrett by sight—she did not come with Jane to the house—I have seen her near my house.

Cross-examined. Jane Popejoy said on one occasion she was afraid of Edith Garrett—I did not see Edith take a crust away from Jane—I have no doubt Jane was afraid.

Re-examined. I say that because on several occasions she said, "Please do make haste before the other girl comes back"—I heard Edith say once, "You have got something in your pocket and I will tell her when we get in."

ANN EMILY BROUGHTON . I am a widow living in London, and am a visitor in the employment of the Travellers' Aid Society, of 3, Baker

Street, W.—that is a charitable society for the protection of girls passing about from place to place—Lady Harrowby is one of the committee of that society—on December 24th I received instructions and in consequence went the next day to 14, Pitt Street, Kensington—about 11.30 in the morning—I saw Mrs. Nicholls at the house—she wanted me to take Jane Popejoy home—she told me to have a cab to Waterloo Station, and go to Ascot, and then a cab to Bagshot—she made one or two complaints about the girl—she said she was untruthful, she stole things, that she was rather immoral and dirty—those are the words she used, "rather immoral"—she said she stole food, as far as I can remember—she said the larder key was once missing and it was found in Jane's pocket—she said the girl had had two breakfasts that morning, and that I was to be very kind and gentle—I took my own money—I was repaid by the society—she said the doctor had said she was a mere slip of a girl—I had not seen her then—she told me that the girl wanted the doctor and that her parents would beat her for going home—I do not remember her baying anything about a doctor after she got home—Mrs. Nicholls gave the girl some mince pies, oranges and sandwiches for her journey—I took the girl down by cab and train and then a second cab—she only had an orange, which I peeled for her—I did not notice any mark on her face—she had a veil on, and gloves on her hands—she had a high bridge to her nose—it stuck out—I took her to Bagshot and left her with her mother.

Cross-examined. I know that Mrs. Nicholls had seen Lady Harrowby about this—it was not the society but Lady Harrowby who did it, and she refunded the money to the society—Mrs. Nicholls told me to get a cab and a chair at Waterloo Station from the cab to the waiting room—she walked across at Ascot—MM. Nicholls told me the girl had had a fall and she thought it necessary to get a chair—she told me that the girl was untruthful, and about the key of the larder, and that she was rather immoral—the girl herself was warmly clad—she looked neat and tidy, with a tippet and muff—I was certainly in no way unkind to her—I have met more than 1,000 girls for the society—this girl never made the smallest complaint—Mrs. Nicholls told me to take a cab from Ascot, as there might not be one at Bagshot—we drove in a cab from Ascot to Bagshot—at Ascot she walked from the train to the cab, she took my arm, and walked slowly—I do not know' if the mince pies were for her or her mother—she carried them all the way—I did not hear that they were for her mother—she was very ill indeed—she stood the journey very well—Mrs. Nicholls told me there was one thing about the girl being afraid of being beaten—I don't remember if Mrs. Nicholls told me to send for a doctor at once—I said to the mother, "I have brought your daughter home; she is very ill indeed"—I sent this post-card to Mrs. Nicholls: "Jane Popejoy bore the journey very well indeed, and was quite cheerful when she met her mother."

Re-examined. I walked across the line because I did not think the girl could walk up the stairs—she made a few remarks on the journey—Mrs. Nicholls wrote me a letter afterwards—(read)—" 14, Pitt Street, Kensington. 25th Jan., '98. Dear Mrs. Broughton,—I have just heard that the inquest will be resumed at Bagshot on Friday. We shall be quite a large party. Are you going with us this time? It is really too ridiculous to make you wait about down there in the cold before any

one else goes. Why, all the witnesses the police have collected here, meet quite openly at the gate of the lodging house next door to this, the woman who keeps it being going it seems to speak to screams etc. They meet and compare notes, and so the monstrous and improbable story goes on being daily added to, but the truth must prevail in the end, of that all my friends and my legal advisers are quite convinced, and oh how good and sympathetic everyone is towards me, and I receive letters from people I have never even spoken too, but who say they have seen me about for 16 years with my helpless child and never saw me apart from her, and that they will never believe that one who gave up her whole existence to the good of her child would hurt anyone or anything, no matter what evidence might be brought forward by outsiders, and former servants who had left under most disgraceful circumstances, and were only too glad of an opportunity for revenge. You know how considerately I spoke of that poor girl the morning you come to fetch hen, and how anxious I was you should impress upon her mother that they must be very gentle and kind to her. I told you she had such a dread of going home, and had always told us her father was a great drunkard, and used to beat her for fetching him from public-houses, and because she always sent home from every situation at the month, and that her mother, who was an Irishwoman, and very violent in her tempers, also beat her and did not give her half as much food as she could eat, and that when she stole Arthur's and Frank's share they used to fight her. I also told her that that very morning she had been crying, and insisting that she knew they would beat her for going home; but I told her of course, no one would hurt her, and she musent fancy such things; but I added that I hoped you would impress upon the mother that they must be very gentle with her, and send for the doctor directly she got home, and this you did, you told me, and I am quite sure you would; yet, you see, they did not send for the doctor for forty-eight hours after she got home and gave her red herrings for "tea, and then she got diarrhoea so no wonder the poor creature was in the state that young doctor described as 'to the examination I mean'; she was, of coarse, very thin, and emaciated when she left this house; but she wasent as you know the skeleton they described her. Trusting to hear from you as to whether you are going down with our party on Friday.—Yours very sincerely (signed) C. NICHOLLS—Pray do not mix up with any of the witnesses on the other side, or talk to the police down here. You remember at the first hearing the Bagshot constable Wynn said to us as we were waiting in that room that the girl had not the slightest idea she was going to die. Burn this scrawl."

JOHN COSHAM VAUDRKY . I am an M. R. C. S. and L. R. C. P.—I was the prisoner's medical attendant for about five years, but not for the last two years, either professionally or otherwise—on December 26th last I was sent for to 14, Pitt Street to see the servant, she gave me a short description of the case—she said the girl had been coughing for some time, and was very unwell; that the wanted her to see a doctor but she would not consent; that she was very dirty, and she could not induce her to wash herself—that she ate a great deal more than the other servants—she implied that the girl was ill, but not very ill—I examined her for about three-quarteis of an hour on the upper pert of

the chest—she was dressed—I used the stethoscope and percussion—I found a cavity in the upper part of the right lung, and incipient tubercular mischief in the left side—consumption—she would have to be stripped to listen to the whole of the lungs—I did not see marks about her—the prisoner was present—I told her the girl was in the last stage of consumption, and could only live for a short time; perhaps a few days, and that if she fainted she might die immediately—I recommended that she should be removed to the hospital or infirmary without delay—I recommended ordinary milk diet—the prisoner asked me to look at the girl's legs, but I thought it was only because she was so thin, so I did not do so—I saw signs of emaciation on the chest, arms, shoulders, and face—it would be plain to anyone that the girl was very ill—she was anbrnic, and excessively weak.

Cross-examined. The prisoner said she did not know whether the girl would see me—it is not at all uncommon for girls to object to see a doctor who visits the house—I thought it dangerous to strip her—the cavity in the right lung was caseous, and about the size of a walnut—I have no doubt that she died of consumption, but that it was aided by cold—the consumption might have been of several months' standing—a large appetite is consistent with consumption, but not necessarily—I did not at first make an exhaustive examination, but I found sufficient, as I thought, to account for her state—it was merely a question of making the remainder of her days easy—I cannot understand one of the Doctors saying that tuberculosis had nothing to do with her death—it is impossible—emaciation increases pari passu with the complaint, and might continue, though the patient had sufficient to eat—I do not think it would be possible for a healthy girl to die of starvation with a diet of bread and dripping, beef tea, tea without milk and sugar, with a fresh joint of fresh mutton and vegetables on Sunday, though she were deprived of a meal three or four times a week—sugar is very nutritive—the above would not be a nutritive diet for a delicate patient—I frequently saw Edith Garrett before the inquest—she looked quite as healthy when she left Mrs. Nicholls as she does now—I am sure the girl died of consumption in an advanced stage—it might be that she was suffering from diabetes as well—she had a dry, harsh skin—the prisoner is devoted to her invalid daughter—she is suffering from confirmed cerebral disease—she would be likely to throw out her arms and kick and scream—she used to have fits, but not lately, I think—she would be, at periods, very violent, and would clutch anyone's arm or hand very tightly—I do not think the prisoner's physical condition is such as to enable her to take this girl by the hair and drag her into the house and beat her with an umbrella and stick—at present she is very ill—she has always been very lady-like as far as I know—I have not seen any indications of outbursts of violent temper in her—it would be very bad for the invalid daughter to have any disturbance going on in her presence—she is not capable of giving evidence.

Re-examined. I had not seen the prisoner for two years as far as I know—I suppose if she had wanted a doctor she would have called me in—I also attended the daughter; but she had no fits during that time requiring my attendance, I imagine—I have attended the girl since the inquest—I was examined as a witness before the Coroner and the

Magistrate—diabetes was not suggested to me—my first examination of the girl was confined to a quarter of an hour—she must have been consumptive for many months, but not in the condition in which I saw her—the food I speak of would be sufficient to prevent her being starved—it would not be proper food for a girl in that condition—of course the more care you take of a consumptive person, and the more choice the food is, the more likely you are to prolong life, or even to cure the patient—the absence of proper food would tend to accelerate the death of such a person—the kind of food given to consumptive patients fifty years ago is now known to be not proper food—a girl suffering from consumption, as this girl was, would require proper nursing—I do not think she should have remained in her situation for three or four months—I do not think her leaving service and having the same food would have prolonged her life; her work was not hard, as I understand—I was surprised to find her so ill—when there is malassimilation of food I should expect to find evidences of it at the post mortem in the glands of the stomach, or the mesenteric—when there was ulceration,. which would account for bad assimilation of food, you would probably find that ulceration in the colon or larger intestine.

By the COURT. I think if an expert had been present at the post mortem there would have been more particular attention paid to the glands of the stomach and the bowels—I have had many post mortem since my student days.

HAROLD B. OSBURN . I am an M. R. C. S. and L. E. C. P., practising at Bagshot—I was called to see the deceased on December 26th—she was in bed—I examined her, and made notes—I found her extremely emaciated, her skin very red, and discoloured in many places—several large and distinct bruises on both legs and the sides of both knees—the one on the side of the left knee was about 2 ins. by 2 ins., and about a week old—the backs of the hands were scored with sores and abrasions, large deep scratches and cuts—the little finger of the left hand was blackened—the bridge of the nose was broken—her temperature was 101, and pulse bad—I diagnosed bronchial pneumonia and slight diarrhoea—"her mind seemed quite clear when spoken to, although she lies huddled up in bed on the left side, and takes no notice except when roused"—I thought she was very ill, but would probably recover at that time—I saw her about five o'clock the next afternoon, and found her very much worse, and her pulse very bad—I did not think she would live through the night—she died about eight o'clock—a constable was in the house—I had made some communication respecting the police—I made a suggestion in regard to the attendance of the Magistrate before her death—I had no reason to think that she thought she was not going to die—(After objection and some discussion this evidence was ruled to be admissible.)—I said to the girl, "How did you hurt yourself?"—she replied by the one word, "Mistress"—I said to her, "How did she do it?" and she replied by the one word, "Stick"—I pointed towards her legs where there were bruises—my next visit was paid about 8.30, when she was dead—on December 29th I went with Dr. Greasy to make a post mortem examination on the body—I made these notes immediately afterwards—"the body of a well-proportioned girl in a state of extreme emaciation—there is no food at all in the body, and the muscles and

other structures are much wasted—rigor mortis very slightly marked"—that points to the fact that the death has been lingering, and no long struggle—active people who die a violent death have very intense rigor mortis—"post mortem, straining less than usual"—that points to the fact that the blood was in a rather poor condition—"height, 5 ft. 2 ins.; weight, 65 lbs.; measurement round the middle of upper arm, 51/4 ins.; round the middle of the thigh, 10 ins.; the calf of leg, 81/4 ins.—65 lbs. is only about half the weight that such a girl should be under ordinary circumstances—I measured the arm, thigh, and calf of another girl who was thin and delicate-looking of the same height, but perfectly healthy—she was sixteen years of age—her upper arm measured round 9 ins., the middle of her thigh, 16 1/4 ins., and the calf, 11 1/4 ins.—that was rather below than above the average—on examining the right arm I found diffused patches and bruising above the elbow on the outside of the arm 3 ins. by 2 ins.—"The right elbow—there are several small abrasions near the elbow—there is a large bruise on the inner side of the upper arm extending from the wrist 3 ins. up the arm—the whole of the back of the hand down to the finger tips presents the yellow-green colour of bruising of at least ten days previously—sixteen small wounds and abrasions"—they might be scratches—"Left arm—there is yellow staining of the skin—characteristic of bruising—some time previous, about fourteen days; from the shoulder to the finger tips there are round bruises and two abrasions on the outer side of the elbow—about three or four days old from the date of the death—there is a large distinct bruise" 2 ins. by 2 1/2 ins. on the wrist, and there is a black gangrenous patch 2 ins. long on the back and outer side of the first joint of the little finger—it might have been done by a burn—on the right leg continuous bruises of various dates, but not quite recent extending from the knee to the toes—most marked on the outer side of the knee, and a long welldefined patch extending 5 ins. by 2 1/2 ins., five distinct bruises on the outer side of the leg, and one rather recent one, 1 1/2 in., on the back of the foot"—we found no abnormal condition of the toes-sometimes a sore is not very noticeable after death, and we might have missed it—the cartilage of the nose was broken away from the bone, but there was no bruise there—it must have been caused by violence and done so long previously that the bruising had disappeared, there were no marks of violence on the head or on the trunk—the hair was normal—on opening the body we found the subcutaneous fat absent—that is the fat between the skin and the muscle—the muscular structure was small and pale—on opening the abdomen we found the peritoneum healthy—the great omentum—the fold of the peritoneum, which hangs down in front of the bowels, was remarkably thin and devoid of fat—it is one of the places in the body where food is almost invariably found—I could see through it, and could hardly detect its existence until we picked it up—the stomach was distended with what appeared to be liquid food given within the last three or four days, otherwise it was normal inside and out—the small intestine was empty and collapsed it seemed to us then; but is a point on which it is impossible to give an absolute statement—the small intestine usually contains a little liquid food—it never ought to be much distended—we found the colon very unusually small and contracted

—that is the great gut—there were no forces in the flectum or rectum—the whole of the large intestine was apparently empty—th liver was normal, and the kidneys were perfectly natural and small—the walls and mucous membrane of the bladder were thickened and a little congested—it contained no urine—that would be evidence of slight chronic inflammation—she would have the desire to pass water on a small quantity, accumulating—in the heart I discovered a soft yellow clot, and the muscular walls were thin and pale—the valves were perfectly healthy and natural—the pericardium—the membrane covering the heart, was natural—in the right lung we found one or two recent pleuretic adhesions, the result of pleurisy—there was no excess of fluid in the pleura cavity—the air cells near the lungs had been strained and burst one into another, so that instead of there being a large number of little air cells there were a few biggish air cells—that was caused by coughing repeatedly in a weak state of health—two-thirds of the lower lobe were consolidated by pneumonia—in the middle of the other lobe there was a caseous or cheesy cavity, and surrounding it a number of yellow tubular nodules—there were no tubercles in the apex of the lung—the lower lobe contained one patch of consolidation, about the size of an egg—no tubercles—the generative organs were those of a virgin—the brain was normal—the cause of death was failure of the hears action, the result of extreme weakness—the pneumonia probably would not have carried her off if she had been properly nourished—the bruises were not likely to have been caused by fails, but by blows or violence.

Cross-examined. I have practised for nine years, and have had very large experience in post mortem—I think Mrs. Popejoy was the first person I saw on being called in—I am parish doctor there, but I went in my ordinary capacity—I went straight to the room where she was—the mother was quite incoherent and weeping—she said something about rheumatism, and that was all I got out of her—a clergyman and a policeman were there—a question was raised about taking the girl's depositions by a Magistrate, but it was a wet night, and the police were a little shy about fetching him—in order to judge whether she was fit to be examined I went back to the room, and bent over her and asked the same questions again, and got the same answers—I found extreme emaciation, which would be consistent with starvation—the skin was dry, rough, and discoloured in many places—I do not think the bruises could be accounted for by purples—the injury to the nose might have taken place a year or months before—I heard the statement that three or four days before death her mistress kicked her, and then knocked or pushed her head against an iron bedstead, but no such bruises as I should expect from that were found—it is common for people to go about with their lungs riddled with tubercles, and they do not seem much the worse for it—I cannot say how long the caseous cavity had been dormant—the tissues were indurated—I am still of the same opinion that tuberculosis had no immediate connection with the cause of death—the great probability is she would have lived if she had been, properly fed, and possibly pneumonia would not have developed—we did not weigh the kidneys, but we cut them and stripped off the membrane—the pancreas was normal—the pneumonia did not resemble the pneumonia of phthisis for

a reason I can give—in diabetes the patient may die of acute pneumonia, diabetes coma, or of actual exhaustion—they generally die of comatose—in the cases I have seen they become unconscious—this girl was perfectly conscious—I arrived an hour or two before her death—at the post mortem examination the stomach was distended with liquid food—I opened the colon: slit it right up—it was chiefly contracted in the transverse portion—there were no hard pieces—there was a slight thickening in the bladder—it was smaller than usual—she had swallowed her food nicely—I saw a dose of milk and a dose of medicine—the spleen was perfectly natural—we made the post mortem examination within four days after she died—she had had slight diarrhoea on the Sunday—I asked the condition of the bowels to know whether she required medicine—I expected to find more matter in the large intestine—even milk would become hard—neuralgic pains are not a prominent symptom of diabetes—I saw the girl before her death and four days afterwards, and there was no suggestion of diabetes, and therefore it did not occur to us—post mortems are always made with the object of clearing up what has arisen during life, and there was not the least suggestion of diabetes, or of the passing quantities of water, which would be a prominent symptom of it—if there had been diabetes one would have expected to have heard of such a prominent symptom—starvation, and not diabetes, was present to our mind—when tubercles have formed there may be attacks of sweating, but there is not always perspiration—I saw no marks of violence on the trunk—the tubercular condition, whether chronic or malignant, would be affected by improper food—I saw the bruise on the foot—it might have been caused by a blow from a hammer in August, but I think it could not have existed more than a week or two.

Re-examined. There were no symptoms of comatose in the way this girl died—her mind was clear—I saw her about six o'clock—dryness, roughness, and discoloration of the skin are symptoms spoken of in connection with withholding of food—I have never heard of the contraction of the colon in diabetes—I cannot say positively that it is inconsistent with it—I would not describe this pneumonia as tubercular pneumonia.

ROLFE CREASEY . I am a Member of the Royal College of Surgeons and Licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians, London, of between twelve and thirteen years standing—I have had twenty years experience in making post mortem examinations, and I assisted Dr. Osburne to make this post mortem examination on December 29th—I have been listening to his evidence in chief—I agree with him substantially—death was due, in my opinion, from the aspect of the body to heart failure, due to exhaustion—due to pneumonia, or recurring in pneumonia in an emaciated girl who was evidently extremely weak—from the aspect of the body and the condition of things the emaciation was consistent with food having been withheld for a considerable time, the absence of sufficient food—there was no indication of want of power to properly assimilate her food—that strengthens the opinion I have formed.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate: "In my judgment there was not sufficient tubercular mischief to account for so great an

emaciation; and looking at the condition of weakness, I say that condition was consistent with the absence for some time of food, and not merely want of food assimilation"—that is my opinion now—I think there was not sufficient tuberculosis and pneumonia to cause death in an otherwise healthy subject—the tubercles were dormant—they would not have caused death if the girl had not been emaciated—I think the emaciation was previous to the pneumonia—the tubercular cavity was quiescent—the nodules round the cavity were not active—I had not diabetes present in my mind—I said before the. Magistrate that there was nothing to show whether there was diabetes or one way or the other; that it is often attended by great emaciation, and that she might have suffered from diabetes without showing any signs of it in the post mortem examination beyond the emaciation—I hold to that—in diabetes I should not expect to find the kidneys enlarged; they are sometimes—in this case they were normal—there was no urine in the bladder—occasionally in diabetes you get that condition of bladder—the existence of nodules round the cavity is not evidence of the activity of the cavity, nor of the spreading of the disease.

Re-examined. In the event of a person suffering from diabetes I should expect those who lived in the same house to know of it—I should call it a remarkable case where the diabetes condition was concealed.

ARTHUR PEARSON LUFF , M. D. I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Physicians—I practise at 31, Weymouth Street—I am physician to St. Mary's Hospital, and lecturer there on Medical Jurisprudence—all the depositions before the Coroner and the Magistrate were submitted to me—I have been here during the trial, and have heard the whole of the evidence, and given my best attention to it—having regard to the medical evidence, I consider death to be due to heart failure, following on general debility and pneumonia—the general debility was due to starvation—I mean the ingestion of food which is either insufficient in quantity or wanting in quality—the conditions are: (1) skin rough, dry and wrinkled, and with stains on it, described as brownish stains; (2) the general absence of fat from the body; (3) the extremely thin condition of the momentum and the intestines generally; (4) the rather wasted and pale condition of the heart; and (5), which I consider important, the absence of tubercular disease in the intestines in a way which was visible to the naked eye—on the post mortem what is invisible to the naked eye in the intestines could not have been the causation of death—as regards the disease found in the right lung, the area was limited, as neither apex of the two lungs were affected; those are the dangerous parts to be affected by tubercular disease; there was this one cavity in the middle of the upper lobe of the right lung; that was chronic, and in a very stationary condition; it is all practically included as being a factor in the causation of death on account of its localised chronic stationary condition; the little deposits around the cavity, including those two nodules, are obviously not due to recent infection—the girl could not have been in an advanced stage of consumption of the lungs without there having been a considerable spitting of blood before her death, which would have increased to the end—it is not my experience that a voracious appetite is ordinarily found in consumptive patients—my experience is rather the other

way—it is rather difficult to get them to take sufficient food—her chances of recovery from tuberculosis, followed by pneumonia, would have been much greater if the body had been better nourished—I do not think medical attention would have effected much in the condition of the lungs—the pneumonia would have been very much ameliorated if it had been attended to earlier—under reasonably favour able conditions the girl would probably have lived for years if she had been in a position—gone to an ordinary institution, for instance—she would have died of consumption possibly—she would probably have lived to an ordinary age if she could have been sent away, but not in this country—I find no evidence of the existence of diabetes—I have carefully considered that—those symptoms have been accurately described: excessive thirst, the frequent passing of urine, being much wasted, dryness of the skin and mouth, emaciation, and the mind remaining clear till come supervenes before or at the time of death—those are the leading symptoms, and they are generally accompanied by constipation—here there was looseness, though there were symptoms of constipation just at the last—there was evidence consistent with diabetes only so far that death from diabetes may occur and there may be no post mortem indication of it; but there would be the indication of great pus some time before, and the passing of a great quantity of water—those are the most important factors, but there is one other, excessive low spirits, and in diabetes the mucous membrane is generally thicker than in this case it was—contraction of the colon I consider quite inconsistent with diabetes—I have never known a contracted colon in connection with diabetes in the way described—a cord-like one—that is a fairly constant sign of death from starvation—ill-usage accompanied with the withholding of food would undoubtedly tend to accelerate death—the mental operation, apart from the physical effect, would tend to increase the mischief—if the bruises described were produced by physical ill-usage they would be a factor in hastening death—the ill-usage would not be a strong factor—ill-usage, plus want of sufficient food, might be a factor in developing pneumonia, though not a strong factor—not so strong as the other.

Cross-examined. I have been engaged in several cases of this kind for the Treasury—I mean plus the deprivation of food—it would only be a small factor—the two together would be a factor—I practise as a physician, but I have done a good deal of taxicological work, but I have been more frequently engaged in these cases than in poisoning cases—the reason of my disagreement with Dr. Osburn and Dr. Creasy is partly that the tuberculosis is stationary, and partly that Dr. Vaudry did not ascertain whether she had the symptoms of spitting of blood and severe sweating at night—I do not discredit him; it is only a question of opinion—undoubtedly he did detect tuberculosis—spitting of blood and the non-appearance of that symptom is the strongest point against the accuracy of Dr. Vaudry's opinion—when Dr. Quain says that 50 per cent, of the cases are not attended with blood-spitting, he does not say acute cases—undoubtedly there are many cases of phthisis without spitting of blood, and there are cases that go on for years and years, but we are dealing with acute phthisis—Dr. Vaudry said the girl could not live more than a few years; but your extract will

not apply, because the word "acute" does not appear—the girl did not live more than a few days—I say that tuberculosis was quiescent and latent, partly because the tubercles were not in the membrane, and partly because of the condition of the little nodules surrounding it, and they were pale and of long standing, on account of their colour—I mean some months—the disease had reached a stop—there was a caseous cavity, with it distinct membrane lining—activity produced caviation, and further observation showed a certain amount of fibrous tissue in the periphery—the material inside was of a caseous character—there had been some softening down, but there was no action going on—there was no evidence of recent activity—a number of small patches might have produced originally one development of the cavity, the others remaining stationary round it—we call the apex of the lung the dangerous part in tuberculosis because it is the part from which it spreads more rapidly—we always call it the dangerous area—the chances of recovery are less—I do not think in this case that the tubercular area was materially added to—only a small area was shown to be in work in one lobe of the lung—I did not see starvation mentioned in the depositions, so that I may have been the first to mention it—one must always, before arriving at a conclusion that it is death due to starvation, think of the possibility of the presence of other diseases which might stimulate starvation, and I must eliminate their probability, or, if you like, possibility—I found it necessary to eliminate diabetes—that was only honest—the symptoms are not entirely the same—diabetes, commencing on persons of this age, would become more rapidly dangerous—there might be six months between its commencement and the death, or less—rapid emaciation is one of the leading symptoms, and great thirst right up to the death in acute diabetes within the last few hours of life—the passing of water may cease towards the last, but practically up to the end that goes on, say to within twenty-four hours—it depends upon when coma comes on—it varies—coma is not necessary, but one expects it—I recognise Professor Allbutt as a leading authority—I agree that the strength gradually diminishes, and the patient dies in a dazed condition without actually becoming comatose—I know the book very well—(Read: "Termination—Death occurs in many cases of one or other of the complications to be described of which pulmonary phthisis is perhaps the most common. Very often the patients strength becomes diminished, and be dies quietly in a drowsy condition without actually becoming comotose; but in many cases the accidents that precede death come on more or less suddenly from some slight cause such as fatigue, excitement, or a chill; and death is preceded by coma of a peculiar type. Any acute infectious process is peculiarly liable to terminate fatally in diabetes; this has been abundantly illustrated in the last few years owing to the great prevalence of influenza, which has proved fatal to many diabetics even where no special visceral complications such as pneumonia has been manifested; as a rule these cases have died comatose"—that is consistent with what I said before—I also agree with what he states with regard to diabetes, mellitus, broncho-pneumonia, and gangrene—in this case we nave a history of the broncho-pneumonia and slight pleurisy with any fluid; also tuberculosis mischief in the lungs; that the condition of

the lungs in diabetes is not always pancreatic—that would not point either way, but perhaps it would be a little against diabetes—menstruation in women is more frequently absent through other affections than diabetes—it is very common for young girls to suffer from the absence of menstruation—girls of this age do suffer, especially in a badly-nourished state—I agree that the appetite gets more and more voracious in diabetes except towards the very last, and that there is a great appetite, especially for starchy articles of food, and mainly for things which the patient ought not to have—I agree with Dr. Quain, and have seen cases where the patient will be still or do anything—that may indicate a change in the mental condition in acute diabetes—I agree that the satisfaction of the appetite produces no feeling of satiety; that even in diabetics the appetite will fail in the later stage—except for scratches the skin is not dry, and the scratches found may have been caused by something else—irritation between the toes might depend upon the cleanliness—this girl was in a dirty state when she died—there might have been the tendency to scratch—the itching would be about the genitals and all round her—the temperature might rise nine out of ten in acute, but not if one takes chronic, diseases—I agree that one of the symptoms is a weakness of mind and that heart failure occurs in most ordinary cases of diabetes—if there is constraint undoubtedly there would be evidence of diabetes—unfortunately, in this case, there was no opportunity to examine the water—there is the evidence that the girl was in the habit of getting out of bed during the night, but we do not know for what purpose; if we knew she did it to pass water we would be more suspicious—diabetes would be the theory if it were shown that she passed a large quantity, but it must be due to irritation of the parts—I should want the two things in order to admit your point—if you could satisfy me upon that, the theory of diabetes would be strengthened—one cannot possibly exclude diabetes, but the extreme possibility is it did not exist.

Re-examined. I saw no other symptoms consistent with diabetes but a voracious appetite—that may have been due to the fact that the girl wanted food—going to the post mortem signs in diabetics, the intestinal mucous membrane is generally thickened or enlarged—in the deceased it was not—in diabetics the kidneys are enlarged—in the deceased they were healthy and normal in size—in diabetics the heart is generally normal—in the deceased it was small, wasted and pale—there remains only emaciation as consistent with diabetics—in my opinion it was most consistent with starvation.

ALBERT YEO (Police Constable, Criminal Investigation Department) On December 29th last I went with Serjeant Scarterfield of the Surrey Constabulary to 14, Pitt Street, Kensington—Scarterfield knocked at the door, which was opened by Mrs. Nicholls—he said, "I am a Serjeant of the Surrey Constabulary—I wish to speak to you respecting a girl named Jane Popejoy"—she said, "I do not want to know anything at all about it"—he said, "The girl is dead"—she said, "I do not want to hear anything more about it"—he then served her with a summons to attend the inquest—he ascertained from her the name of Dr. Vaudry as having attended the deceased.

Cross-examined. Mrs. Nicholls did not give Jane's address—I have made enquiries about this case—Mrs. Nicholls has lived in the house between four and five years—I saw the invalid—Mrs. Nicholls was very excited.

FRANK SCARTERFIELD . I am a Serjeant in the Surrey Constabulary—I was with the last witness on December 29th, when we called at Pitt Street.

Cross-examined. I got a statement from Dr. Twort in writing (produced) on January 3rd, 1898—I served Dr. Twort with a subpœna to attend the inquest—I withdrew it because the Coroner told me he was not required.

Re-examined. I reported to the Coroner in substance what Dr. Twort told me—by the Coroner's instructions he was not summoned.

MR. MARSHALL HALL , with (MR. STEPHENSON), submitted there was not sufficient evidence to go to the JURY on the neglect of a responsible duty on the part of the prisoner towards the deceased to make her criminally liable; and that an affirmative case of negligence being the cause of death had not been sufficiently established. He referred to "The Queen v. Smith," 34 Law Journal (Magistrates' Cases), p. 163; 8 "Carrington and Payne;" and 3 "Russell on Crimes," 6th ed., and other cases in support of their contention. The COURT, however, held there was a case to go to the JURY.

Witnesses for the Defence.

DR. HUMPHREY DAVY EOLLESTON , M. A., M. D. (Camb.), F. R. C. P. I was formerly a fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge—I am senior assistant physician at St. George's Hospital, lecturer on pathology in the medical school there, and senior assistant physician at the Victoria Hospital for Children—my opinion on this matter was taken a week ago—I have read the evidence of the post-mortem examination given before the Coroner, the evidence of Dr, Luff and all the depositions at Bow Street, including the general evidence in the case—the roughness of the skin was compatible with quasi-starvation and with diabetes—I think in this case the condition of the skin would depend chiefly on the diabetes, rather than on the lung disease—I should expect it to be dry, scaly, and wrinkled—in diabetes there is a tendency to get a form of bronchial pneumonia which spreads along the bronchial tubes—if it affects one part of the lungs extensively it may become entirely consolidated; if the bronchial pneumonia is small in amount the areas of consolidation imitate very slightly the appearance of tuberculosis, and in some cases the microscope must be used to determine—the low caseous form of bronchial pneumonia, breaking down, is comparatively often met with in the terminal stage of diabetes—constipation is the ordinary and usual thing, but diarrhoea may appear towards the termination of the disease—two of the best recognised symptoms of diabetes are intense thirst and voidance of large quantities of urine, frequently during the night—the first may disappear ten days or a fortnight before death, and the second may diminish about a fortnight from the end—coma and lung complications are the two most frequent methods of death in diabetes, I have examined post mortem ten eases, and been present at nine, and have seen a good many cased during life—in my experience, the pulmonary disease is, perhaps, the

commoner cause of death; and then coma may occur on the top—in other cases death results from extreme exhaustion—when I speak of lung disease, I mean the destructive disease of the lung which occurs in diabetes, which has the appearance of pneumonia, but which is probably an acute tubercular pneumonia, specially liable to occur in diabetes—it is difficult to fix that appearance positively with the naked eye—the tubercles would be visible to the eye, but are often only distinguishable under the microscope, and are liable to be confounded with other tubercles—in a case of typical diabetes you would probably find parts of either one or both lungs solid, and of a yellowish-white colour, very apt to break down—it might occur in corresponding positions in both lungs—the breaking down produces a cavity—any person looking at the state of those lungs might form the opinion that it was croupous pneumonia, whereas it might possibly be tubercular pneumonia, and then it would be an ordinary complication of diabetes—there might be no naked eye positive evidence of tubercles—I think the appearances described are compatible with the view that this was a form of bronchial caseous pneumonia, in confluence with diabetes, and becoming permanent in the lower part of the lungs—croupous pneumonia frequently occurs in the cause of diabetes as well—I think the cavity by itself is unlikely to cause death—in the absence of any fibrous tissues round these caseous nodules, I should say there was no indication to regard them as being old—I think I am justified in drawing the conclusion that the cavity was recent, and that would rather strengthen my opinion that the caseating cavity was active—I have made over 1,150 post mortem examinations, generally—the nineteen I spoke of apply to diabetes—I agree with Dr. Luff that taking all the medical things in the case it is impossible to eliminate diabetes—I think there is a positive element in favour of its being the cause of death, and that is the hyperatrophy of the walls of the bladder—if the patient had not had sufficient to eat or drink the amount of water passed would have been diminished and that would lead to disuse of the bladder—if an excessive quantity of water was passed the bladder would have had more work to do, and would have got bigger to do its work, like other muscles, the bladder being a hollow muscle—I think on the evidence of the post mortem signs and death symptoms diabetes would be the more satisfactory cause of death—if it were shown that she got up for the purpose of passing water it would strengthen my opinion—ill-usage such as Edith Garrett has deposed to would be a factor—if the cavity and nodules were at the apex of the lung it would be in favour of its being ordinary tubercular disease, and would be consistent with the tubercular disease of the lung that accompanies diabetes; you do not find that tubercular disease elsewhere in the body as a rule—purpura is a rather rare accompaniment of diabetes—with purpura, it being a condition of the blood vessels in which the walls are brittle and the blood likely to leave the vessels, any slight force, such as grasping the arm in a friendly way will leave a mark—in her state of health the mere handling of the deceased for the purpose of lifting or washing her might possibly account for some of the bruises, especially on the arms, I could not pay it would—gangrene is a known combination in diabetes—the absence of subcutaneous fat is consistent with quasistarvation

and with diabetes—the muscular structures being small and pale is neutral, and so also is the healthy state of the peritoneum—the omentum generally contains a fair amount of fat—the fact that it was remarkably thin, almost transparent and devoid of fat is consistent with acute diabetes, I think—the small intestine being empty and collapsed points rather to quasi-starvation than to diabetes, but if the patient had but very little food during the last four days, and there was some diarrhoea, it would tend to explain the emptiness of the intestine—if she had an orange only on the Friday; then I should not expect necessarily to find any food in the small intestine—diabetes in an acute form may terminate fatally within six months with people of her age, and in that case the noticeable changes are most rapid—I should call acute diabetes cases which begin and end within six months; it is more rapid and fatal in young people—the fact of the colon being unusually small and contracted and practically empty is, on the face of it, in favour of quasi-starvation, but if the girl had diarrhoea it would tend to explain it—generally in diabetes the kidneys are larger, but not always—there is nothing against the diabetes theory in the described condition of the heart—the pancreas is not necessarily affected in diabetes—starvation is described as giving rise to atrophy of the pancreas; in quasi-starvation it would be diminished in size—from reading the account of the post mortem I consider the amount of change as described in the lungs was quite sufficient to bring about death in a person who was previously to that in a fair state of nutrition—if the tubercular disease was latent I think it would be less affected by bad food than if the tubercular disease were active, and voracious appetite occurs in diabetes—it is by no means rare in diabetes to get a change taking place in the nerves, especially, perhaps, in the nerves of the legs, which bring about a condition in which the person has a difficulty in moving the muscles of their limbs in a satisfactory way—I think it would be more pronounced as the disease advanced in virulence—the skin of a diabetic person is less tolerant of any injury than the skin of a healthy person—teeth may decay and drop out in diabetes—the voracious appetite may disappear just before death, and the amount of urine may diminish—on cessation of the menstrual flow I should lay no stress; it is consistent with diabetes—blood spitting may be latent in a diabetic subject—so far as I have any evidence to go upon I agree that it is impossible to eliminate diabetes as the cause of death.

Cross-examined. I did not say diabetes was the cause of death, or a contributing cause of death—I think the doctors who conducted the post mortem would be better judges than I of what was seen—my opinion is that the appearances as described were consistent with the view that they were the irregular caseous pneumonia, which is particularly likely to supervene in the course of diabetes, and which is probably of a tubercular nature—tubercular and croupous pneumonia are different, but they may under certain circumstances resemble each other—I think I could confound the one with the other from a naked-eye examination, under certain conditions—I think a competent and careful man might confound them in making a post mortem with some forms of tubercular pneumonia—I think the duration of this caseous cavity in association with the described condition

of the lower part of the lung indicates a late stage—the mere presence of an old cavity in the lung in a case of diabetes might show that previous to the onset of diabetes there had been consumption, but that I do not take to be the interpretation in this case—I should say the diabetes had lasted not less than perhaps 5 months, from the emaciation, not from the lungs—the leading symptoms of diabetes are, I think, thirst, the effort to appease it, and the passing of water in very large volume and at very short intervals—constipation is the ordinary accompaniment of diabetes—if it was diabetes, in this case at least, during some period of five months, there must have been thirst and passing of water in a marked degree—this was a very rapid case of diabetes—I should not say thirst would continue up to the very end—the disappearance of thirst 10 or 14 days before the end is not the rule—it might occur—so with the voidance of urine, it is not the rule, but it is rather commoner—the yellow colour of the nodules would be evidence of the consumption being less acute than if it were grey—I think the tubercles were comparatively recent because of the absence of fibrous tissue around them—they are not within a week or two if this is yellow—I put their possible age at 6 or 8 weeks—they are first grey and then yellow—if they were ordinary tubercles and there had been fibrous tissue they might have been any age—I consider the thinness of the omentum consistent with death from insufficient food—I do not think I can answer whether it is indicative of it—I should expect to find that condition if there had been long-continued deprivation of food, but it does not exclude diabetes—I do not think a case is recorded of the co-existence of this state of the omentum, colon, and intestines with death from diabetes—I think the thin and contracted condition of the colon is indicative of starvation—I should not call three motions in four days, one of them loose, diarrhoea—the absence of foeces is consistent with insufficient gestation of food—in diabetes you would expect, other things being equal, to find fences there—I should expect the walls of the bladder to become thin if starvation were accompanied by the deprivation of liquid, though the bladder might be contracted, and so its walls might appear to be thicker—the thickening in this case is consistent with slight inflammation, and cystitis is consistent with diabetes—inflammation of the bladder is a much more common cause—it is fairly common in diabetes—in about 40 per cent, of the cases—the cause ascribed by Dr. Osburn is quite consistent—inflammation of the bladder may be caused through exposure to cold reducing the resistance of the body and the bladder particularly, or from unclean habits accompanied by vermin, or a fall by a person with a full bladder—the more complete the deprivation of food the more marked would be the atrophy of the pancreas—the pancreas may be the last abdominal organ to atrophy—I do not feel I can express an expert opinion upon that—the kidneys are generally somewhat enlarged in diabetes—if purpura existed I should expect to find signs of it all over the body—I do not know that in most cases of diabetes the intestinal membrane is thickened—it is unusual on the diabetes theory that it was found in this case—I should rely on the weight of the liver rather than the size—in diabetes the heart is smaller than usual, except where there is some complication like disease of the arteries—I think in cases of acute diabetes it is generally atrophied if there are no complications that make it larger.

Re-examined. If the thirst ceased the voidance of water in excessive quantities would cease in relative proportions—diabetes, though perhaps commoner than it was, is not a common disease—when I expressed the opinion that it; was impossible to eliminate diabetes as the cause of death, the state of the colon, and intestines were present to my mind—it is quite possible for a person to live with one-half of the lung diseased and to keep fat inside—I do not say it is probable.

THE COUNTESS OF HARROWBY . I have known of the prisoner for a considerable time—I first came to know her through my cousin, Mr. Saurin, and his sister visiting her about fifteen years ago—I knew she had a paralysed daughter—I occasionally went to 14, Pitt Street—I saw Edith Garrett and Jane Popejoy there—I first saw Popejoy soon after she went there—in the autumn of 1896—she was tall and slight—I never thought she looked strong—I last saw her in May, 1897—I did not notice anything particular about her then—the prisoner spoke to me about her before, and in May, 1897, and since—she wrote to me in November—in or before May she said she considered the girl mentally weak—that she was very difficult to manage and unclean—I think she said that she ate more than the other girl—I am not sure whether she said that then or later—and that the food did not seem to do her good—I left London at the end of May—I came back when Mrs. Nicholls was at Southsea, and I did not see her then—I saw her next in the autumn—about the end of October—she said in the spring or the autumn that the girl did not wish to see a doctor—she said in the autumn that the girl took things from the larder, and that she picked up some crusts from the streets, and that she believed she was not happy at her home—this was mostly said in the autumn, but some may have been, in the spring—the prisoner frequently spoke of her troubles—in the autumn I think she said she had fallen in the park—I very often saw the prisoner with her daughter—she is devoted to her—I never saw the prisoner act unkindly towards her servants—I should never have thought from her conversation that she would be cruel.

Cross-examined. I left London at the end of October, and returned towards the end of December—I was not at Pitt Street between May and October—after May I was only there once or twice at the end of October—I did not see the girl after May to my knowledge—I believe she was in the house.

Re-examined. I knew the prisoner was in poor circumstances—I know for certain her income is £60 a year from a settled fund that was raised for her.

CATHERINE HARRINGTON . The prisoner, Mrs. Nicholls, is my illegitimate daughter—I have lived with her for many years—during the last eighteen years I have been acting as her housekeeper, and helping to take care of her house—I am generally known as housekeeper, and occasionally known as Nannie—I am eighty years of age—I remember Jane Pope oy coming to the service—she was slightly thin, and not very bright and intelligent—fairly, but slight and thin—I did the cooking for the house—I have done it so far as well as I could—I regulated the meals downstairs—with some exception I always had the same meals as the girls—Mrs. Nicholls's husband has been away for many years—he has turned up since this case has been going on—he has been away fifteen years—all

that time she has had charge of the invalid child—they had milk and sugar with their tea—when Jane first came she preferred dripping to butter, and, when there was any tea, to have it—there was no limit exactly to the bread and butter—I cut what they required, two or three slices each perhaps—I used my judgment to some extent—the dinner consisted of meat, vegetables, and pudding, and any meat there might be—there was fresh meat during the week—there was always a leg of mutton on the Sunday, and some other joint, perhaps a sirloin of beef or a leg of pork—the amount of meat on the Sunday was 7 or 8 lbs. perhaps—there was only the mistress and her daughter upstairs—the invalid always had everything minced and pounded—the rest of the mutton upstairs was made up in different ways, perhaps—beef for the invalid was not made every day, most likely on Saturday, and twice during the week—that which was left was used, sometimes the servant had it—the pudding was mostly suet—sometimes by chance when we had the roast meat we had suet—when it was a plain there was always a hot joint—on the Sunday they had vegetables generally—they very often had rice, and Janey asked me for it—there was a little tea, bread and butter, also dripping, no meat—there was a leaf supper, but I don't think they required much at that time of night—that was for the invalid herself—she did not need it as I did—have been all my life—the housekeeping book was not known to everybody until this case came on—Jane was never deprived of her meals—he sometimes had her meals upstairs, because the invalid was ill—I gave her what she could eat and what she required—Mrs. Nicholls had her meals in the room next to that in which Edith Garrett slept with her—I don't know what they did there—Edith Garrett did not always sleep there—it was not necessary—on the night before she left she came home in a very wet state—I gave her nothing but tea besides water—very often at Mrs. Nicholls's table—she was frequently drinking—I have seen her drink water, two or three pints at a time, and I told her not to do it—I did not think it was right for her to drink much water—there was a tap at the bottom, and possibly that could be got at—the water was always on—no one but Edith professed to go without sugar—she said it would spoil her complexion and her teeth—she was very hasty—some was very fond of sugar I know, or anything else—I don't know what there was that she would not eat—she had a very great appetite; still she was not dissatisfied with anything she had—I thought she was thin, but I did not think anything particular about it—I do not remember an occasion when Mrs. Nicholls used to shout down the stairs, or send a message that Jane was not to have any meal, and if she had I should have given it her the same—Jane did not care for Edith to be present when she had anything they did not get on very well together—Edith was very quarrelsome and very ordering, and very domineering—sometimes Jane resented, and sometimes she turned round—the invalid girl sometimes screamed, and Jane would scream for anything whether she was right or wrong—Edith spoke very unkindly to her at times—I never heard Mrs. Nicholls call her servants foxes and thieves—up to the time they went to Southsea Jane was not in very good health—she told me she always had cold in winter, but she said Mrs. Nicholls wanted her to see a doctor

—she did not wish to see a doctor, as she always had her cold in the winter—I also went to Southsea with a great nephew of mine, Mrs. Nicholls and the invalid—we all went together, and came back together—we had a little house there—we had exactly the same food there—it is not true to say that Jane was starved when at Southsea—her cough got a little better, but she was not right, and Mrs. Nicholls wished to have a doctor, which she would not—I did not see any noticeable difference in the girl, such as getting thinner—she was very absent and queer—sometimes she would let things fall, and she used to fall about the stairs—she always did that occasionally; but, of course, she got worse—she fell down not long before she left with an empty water-can—she slipped part of the way down on the kitchen stairs—I never heard Mrs. Nicholls say to her, "You are al ways screaming"—Mrs. Nicholls never hit her in my presence—I have heard Jane begging Mrs. Nicholls to forgive her for taking things, and she would never do it again—she took anything she could get to eat, and did not matter what it was—she has told me many times that she never was in any pain up to the last—I was never unkind to her—I never beat her—I don't believe that the invalid ever dragged her by the hair of her head—I never saw it—I can't see how it could be done—she had not a great deal of hair—the invalid had her hair done up—she was about eighteen—I have seen Jane write letters downstairs—I believe Edith Garrett also wrote letters, but I really did not care about what she did—they could write letters if they liked—Mrs. Nicholls sometimes got up late, but her health was very bad—she went to bed very early, perhaps about nine, or earlier—I have sometimes heard screams early in the morning from the front area—perhaps Jane has been taking things and Edith has been trying to take it from her, and there has been screaming in the passage before Mrs. Nicholls was out of bed—sometimes Jane was unkind to Edith, and Edith was very bitter to her—if Jane wanted a bath she could have it—there was plenty of water to wash herself with—she did very little work—she was supposed to do it, and to light the fire—she used to push the invalid in her chair—she was engaged for that, and to do anything—she never complained about it—she said she did not seem to have any strength in her legs—she had no idea that she was going to die—occasionally the invalid had fits of hysteria—they went on occasionally up to the present time, but not so bad—I kept the key of the passage—there was no larder—there was a small meat safe, and for some time after Jane came there was no key—and afterwards Mrs. Nicholls had a small key put to it—I don't remember anything about the key being found—I laid the key on the table, and it was not found for ten months—I had the same meals as the two girls—Jane had the same food as Edith—once when Jane fell down I asked her if she had hurt herself, and she said, No I hurt my face a little, not much"—I never saw Mrs. Nicholls strike Jane with the hammer—I saw something in the paper about it, but not in the house—Mrs. Nicholls and the invalid slept in the same room—Mrs. Nicholls was never away from her if she could help it—in September and November she was not well—she had sciatica, and her side was very bad—the two girls used to attend to the invalid with the chair, but Edith did it better—all the time Jane was there she never made any complaint about her or of her ill-treatment—Edith never complained—she was very hot.

Cross-examined. I never had a meal upstairs—breakfast I did and tea, but never meals, not as much as a cup of tea—we dealt at Harrod's Stores, but not for some time—I don't remember when we ceased to deal there—we chiefly got all the things there—there was certainly meat more than once a week—I am quite clear about that—certainly when it was required, which was very often—if there was not poultry or fish—between March, 1896, and October, 1897—meat was frequently got more than once a week—we did not also always send to Harrod's for it—we got it, perhaps, at Barker's or anywhere else—sometimes perhaps if mistress went out she would bring it in—I don't remember any particular bills, we don't keep all bills—(Counsel produced a number of weekly bills from harrod's and read them to the witness, showing meat supply once a week)—perhaps sometimes we had a great many rabbits and birds, and all kind of things—Jane used to scream a good deal—I think she could be heard by the neighbours—she could be heard all down the street—there was no reason for her screams—sometimes she screamed at Edith when she stopped her from taking things—I don't say that Jane stole the key of the safe, I only know I missed it and never found it—I did not see anything wrong with Jane's legs—she said there was something the matter—she used to walk very queer—I did not see her limp, but she always seemed to walk about and fall down even before she was not so well, before she went to Southsea—I never saw any scratches on her face—I saw a rash on it and between her fingers—I did not see anything wrong with her nose—if she had a black eye I suppose that was when she fell down the kitchen stairs with the can—I don't remember seeing the black eye—her head was dirty when Edith came—it was discovered then, but it must not have been clean when she first came—her hair had grown, but not much—I don't think I saw a champ in the girl during the first four months—she was slight and thin and had very thin arms—she had rather large hands, which made them look thinner—there was a chamber utensil in her room—I have gone into the girl's room—it was next to mine, and the door was always open—I believe the thing was cracked—it was not broken and thrown away—I did not know that they had to go down stairs for the purpose—perhaps they used the washing basin.

Re-examined. There is no water-closet at the top of the house, but there is on the first flight from the best bedroom—Jane could have come down to it—besides Hanod's Stores we dealt at Barker's and at the butcher's for fresh meat—we had bills sent in, and everything was paid for on delivery—the things were ordered from Harrod's and Barker's mostly on a Saturday—during the week the prisoner went out with the bath-chair and many times brought things home with her—plenty of things were sent to the house on other days besides Saturday, mostly from Barker's—if we wanted 1/4lb. rump steak we should send to Barker's, which is quite close, Harrod's is some little distance—(a number of weekly bills were put in)—we gave up Harrod's Stores at some time and took to Barker's—because it was nearer—but we were not always confined to that one shop—Jane's hair must have been dirty when she came—it was cleaned because Edith told me of it—Edith has repeatedly told me of what she could see on her night-dress and things, and I said "Put it on

the fire"—she was always having her hair cleaned—the prisoner and Edith did it once—Jane was not sent away because she used to pray "Forgive me and I won't do it again"—it was useless to tell her, because she would do the same thing again—she was always praying and begging to Mrs. Nicholls not to send her away, and saying she would not do it again—there was a fire in the parlour in the winter—I do not think there were any fire-irons in that room—there were fire-irons in the tad-room, or only a poker—we used to have the bread from Barker's, but for the last two or three months we bought it anywhere—when we came back from Southsea we had it from Barker's for a time—when we did not get it from there they used to go out and get it—but Barker's have a shop close by where they sell it over the counter and you pay for it—we had in about ten loaves a week—we don't have so much now—this is Barker's book with the bread account—(The average account was stated to be 2s. 6d. per week)—we had ten loaves, or something of that sort.

THOMAS JAMES HARRINGTON . I am 14—I am Mrs. Harrington's great nephew—about a fortnight after she and Mrs. Nicholls went to Southsea I joined them there—Edith Garrett, Jane Popejoy and the invalid were also there—I breakfasted with Popejoy and Garrett—we had bread and butter and tea and a relish, milk and sugar—we had eggs and now and then bacon—for dinner we had meat, vegetables, and pudding or apple tart or fruit tart—for tea we had bread and butter and tea—we used to have supper, a little relish, whatever was left from breakfast—Popejoy ate twice as much as anybody else—she seemed always hungry—she was not clean in her habits—her little finger on the right hand used to stick out when she wheeled the bath-chair—I have heard the prisoner tell Popejoy she must go as she was untidy in her habits—and she used to steal things from the larder, and things like that—Popejoy went directly on her hands and knees to the prisoner and implored her to keep her on—I never saw the prisoner strike Jane—Jane never complained to me about the prisoner—she always seemed to be so kind to her—at Southsea the prisoner thought Jane was ill and had a slight cold, and I was asked to fetch a doctor—then the invalid daughter started crying, and we were all sent out of the room—Jane said she would not have a doctor if we fetched him a hundred times.

Cross-examined. I am not aware that my father is the prisoner's brother—I once slept at Pitt Street, but it was after both Popejoy and Garrett had gone—I did not see Jane before I went to Southsea—I did not go to the house in London—I went to Southsea in my holiday time—she did not seem anything out of the way at Southsea—she was very dirty—that was out of the way—she had a dirty head, and that was out of the way—I meant she was not silly—there was no evidence of her mind being wrong—she did not seem particularly ill—she had a slight cough now and then, but it always went away in a day, she said—I was about a fortnight at Southsea—she only had the cough on her once—she would cough for a day or two and then it would go away—it would come back after a time of course—I could not say she was getting worse at Southsea—she always seemed all right while I was there, except for the slight cough—I saw no marks or scratches on her face, or anything in the shape of a burn—it was only during the fortnight that I saw her—my

father paid my fare to Southsea and back, but not my keep—the prisoner paid the rest.

MRS. HARRINGTON (re-examined by MR. HALL). The prisoner and the invalid ate a little bread—the invalid had also patent food—it was always the best bread we had—I think the rent and taxes were a good deal more than £50 a year—it was a heavily-rented house with heavy taxes.

BEVERLEY EDWARD SAURIN . I live at Princes Gate—I have known the prisoner twenty years, I should think—I knew her when her husband was there—a small sum was collected for her, of which I am trustee—I have been in her house when her husband was there—I got to know of her as in a distressed condition owing to an application she made to me to get some place for her husband—when I came back from America I happened to meet her and found she was no longer living with her husband, and was in great distress—the child was then three or four years old, so that would bring it to tenor twelve years ago—the first time I knew distinctly about her position was in December, 1884—I asked Lady Harrow by to interest herself in her—she interests herself in charitable matters—my sister took an interest in the prisoner—the fund of which I am trustee was the gift of a lady who is now deceased—it produces £60 a year, I think—that is not deducting income tax—the prisoner has no fixed income beyond that, but lives by the contributions of friends—I have given her money and have sent her game and poultry, and things of that kind—an old friend of hers has for many years given the prisoner carte blanche with some livery stables to have a carriage about once a week—when in town I was in the habit of going constantly to the house—it was principally her devotion to the child which induced me to help her—I know the names of others who have assisted her—I remember my sister getting Jane Popejoy for the prisoner—one of my servants met her at the station and took her to the prisoner's—I always considered the prisoner excessively kindhearted, particularly to the weak and defenceless—the evidence of Garrett is not consistent with the opinion I had formed of the prisoner—Garrett had an opportunity of speaking to me if she had any complaint to make—Garrett has spoken to me since this occurrence, but not before—I only saw the servants in the house, as I opening the door and letting me out—I did not know until the case came on of the relationship between Mrs. Harrington and the prisoner—the prisoner first spoke to me about Popejoy when I returned to town—after Popejoy had entered her service—that would be about the first fortnight of November, 1896, and she spoke about her up to May last year—I first saw Popejoy in November, 1896—she was then a nice pleasant girl, but very slight, and looked more like a town than a country girl—the prisoner first said about Popejoy that she was thin, and she did not think she was fitted to be a servant—about April or May last year she told me Garrett had twitted Popejoy about her inordinate appetite, and Popejoy had answered she could eat all day and eat all night, and still be hungry—I was told she had vermin about her—I have taken a great deal of interest in the prisoner, and have assisted her even up to the present moment.

Cross-examined. When I first saw Popejoy she was quite a clean-looking girl—I next saw her in November last year—I noticed a change

in her, but I cannot say what it was—I don't think my impression was that she had become very thin—what struck me particularly was that she wore such a curious close-fitting black bonnet—I did not see her in the house then—I met her out pushing the invalid in the chair and with the prisoner in the street close to the house—the other girl was not there—the rent of the house was originally assessed at £60, but I think it was lowered to £55—there were rates and taxes in addition.

HERBERT BEARING HAZLEWOOD . I am one of the firm of Hare and Company, solicitors—acting for the prisoner in this matter, on 3rd January I went to 14, Pitt Street, where I saw Edith Garrett—I went to take a statement from her—I took a rough proof from her—I went next day and repeated my questions—a week afterwards, about January 11th, I took a statement from the boy Harrington—these are bills found in the house from Barker's and Harrod's Stores—a list of them has been made.

ALFRED MITCHAM . I am assistant to Messrs. H. and R. Stiles, of 34, High Street, Kensington—upon instructions, I yesterday, about 2 o'clock, and with a good light, took these two photographs of 14, Pitt Street—one was taken from the other side of the street, with the door open; and the other from just inside the gateway—there is a window at the end of the passage—there is a curtain partly across the window, so far as I could see from the doorway.

WILLIE BISHOP . I am clerk to Hare and Company, the defendant's solicitors—I gave instructions for these photographs—I saw the window from the doorway—there was no curtain over it when I saw it one and a half hours after the photographs were taken—there is a corner where a table stands—the curtain was not more than an inch beyond the wall—standing in the street you can see through the passage up to the end, but you cannot see the table, because it is in the bend.

DR. OSBURN (re-examined). In a case of starvation the small gut would be reduced—I cannot say it would be extended in diabetes—a cow has three divisions of its stomach—the intestines are on the same plan—I cannot say if cows have diabetes.

GUILTY Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18980425-330

330. FLORENCE VINING (47) , Feloniously sending threatening letters to the Marquis of Worcester, demanding money.

MR. C. F. GILL Prosecuted, and MR. HUTTON Defended.

LORD WORCESTER I live at Badminton—last year I was living in town with my wife at 28, St. James's Place, St. James's Square—I made the acquaintance of the prisoner in 1867 at a place of entertainment, which was open in those days—I visited her from time to time—that went on for sometime and in the year 1869, in consequence of what took place, I agreed to pay her £250 if she ceased to annoy me—I paid it—I received this letter from her—"October 1st, 1869,—I promise that on receiving a cheque for £250 I will not again annoy the Marquis of Worcester either in person or by letter, and that I will give up all letters of his that I may have in my possession (signed) FLORENCE GROVELL"—this is the cheque I drew at that time (produced)—after that I heard of her having gone on the stage. On a great many occasions I received letters from her asking for money, which I sent her—I last saw her in 1874—till

last year the letters continued to go on—in the beginning of last year I was living in St. James's Place with my wife, who was expecting her confinement—while there, the prisoner commenced writing letters to me again—I received a number there—in consequence of what took place last March and April I communicated with the police, so that she might be warned—I handed some of the letters to Serjeant Kayes—I also received postcards—some of them were sent by post, some put into the letter-box, and telegrams and telegraph forms put through the door—these letters and telegrams are in the prisoner's writing, also these postcards—they reached me through the post in the ordinary way—"Urgent. Marquis of Worcester or the Marchioness, 28, St. James Place, St. James Street, W., April 3rd, 1897. Lord Worcester,—You coward to drive me away starving from your door. I will smash the carriage to pieces if you provoke me further. Your servant is a liar, and you are as bad. You have paid the police again. I will ruin you unless you send me money to get my home returned. You told the police to steal. I can wander forth again tonight in the cold. Yes, you and your pale faced wife. Send me money. I am homeless. FLORENCE"—I also received this postcard, "Immediate. Marquis of Worcester, 28, St. James Place, St. James Square, W. April 6th, 1897. Care of proprietor of the house, or any honest servant of Lord Worcester. Lord Worcester—If you provoke me further with returning my letters you will drive me to cross you, for as there is a God above I will tear the clothes from off your wife's back, and do my best to smash the carriage. God, man, if you will go on ill-treating me with the police, you will put the rope round my neck. God help you, Florence Rivers, now Linney Vining. You are powerful but badly advised. I am friendless. You are taking a great advantage. Give me £20 or your future life will be ruined"—I also received this letter—"I will, when you least expect me, tear the gown from your wife's back, and I will curse your 'child.' God knows you have given me much provocation. Not one friend of the past will answer my pleading letters for help, nor Mr. Leopold. Even the clothes given to me at Bristol your father has removed from the station, for I swear I Registered the cloak-room ticket to him. You have banded me to police, and driven me into the streets a 'beggar'—starving. You shall bitterly repent it I ask you for £20 to leave London. Send it.—LINNEY VINNING"—after April last I did not keep the house in town, but returned to Badminton—I continued to receive the letters—I also received this telegram from the prisoner saying she was coming down to Badminton on March 3rd—I communicated with the police—after that, money was given to her to go to Scotland—she continued to write, and I commenced these proceedings—I was anxious about my wife when we were threatened—she is coming back to town to-morrow—she is not in a very good state of health—we were married in 1895.

Cross-examined. That receipt, which was received in 1896, was written by herself—there were some negotiations with my family lawyer—from what I have heard I should think it quite possible that she has been in a starved condition—the last time I saw her in 1874 she was not in a drunken condition—I spoke to her—she made no attack upon one—I thought if quite possible she might carry out her threats—I was only afraid for my wife—when she appeared at Chippenham I was told she was in a drunken condition.

By the COURT. I am heir apparent to the Duke of Beaufort.

GEORGE PHILLIPS . I am a footman in the employ of Lord Worcester—I was in the house at St. James's Place from last February to May—I saw the prisoner frequently there—she came to the house continually—she put telegrams through the door and left letters—I saw her do it—she said she would smash her Ladyship if her Ladyship did not give her money—I have not seen her give documents to men to bring to the house, but men have brought them written in her writing—they were rough looking men—I communicated to the police and a policeman was put; outside the house—I made a communication to Serjeant Keys.

Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner forty or fifty times—she threatened me—I was a little frightened—I thought she might attack me—she never did attack me—she never had an opportunity, because she watt outside the door, and I was inside—I held the door—it was open a little—she could not have pushed her way in—she did not try—she once put her foot inside—I would not say if she was the worse for drink—she was sometimes excited and sometimes calm.

Re-examined. She used to come two or three times a day.

THOMAS STEVENS . I am a serjeant of police at Chippenham—on March 3rd I saw the prisoner at the railway-station at Chippenham—I said to her, "I believe you sent a telegram to Lord Worcester to-day"—she replied, "I don't understand you"—I then told her I had been instructed to inform her that should she go to Badminton and create a nuisance his lordship intended to have her arrested—she walked away some little distance, and then said "Tell Lord Worcester from me that his former mistress will go to Badminton, and that if we meet he will never be the Duke of Beaufort"—she seemed as if she had been drinking—the railway fare to Chippenham is 7s, 10d., 3rd class—I saw her again that same evening in the streets of Chippenham, she was drunk, and very disorderly—she was taken into custody.

Cross-examined. She remained at Chippenham the whole day—she did not make any attempt to go to Badminton—it is 11 1/2 miles—Chippenham is the nearest station.

THOMAS KEYS (Serjeant C). I was spoken to about this annoyance which was going on—some of the letters were given to me, and on April 6th I saw the prisoner leaving a newspaper shop in Bluecross Street, Leicester Square, where letters are addressed—I said to her that I had seen the Marquis of Worcester, and that he had complained about her threatening letters, that she must discontinue sending them, and likewise not go to St. James's Place, for if she did she would be arrested—that was the very day on which the postcard was sent—she said she had a claim on the marquis, and then she mentioned the names of several other gentlemen—she described them as her friends—I took these steps and put a constable outside the house—at the Police court, just after she was committed for trial, the prisoner made a statement to me—she said she was in armed—I arrested her on April 15th—I read the warrant to her—she said, "I wrote the letters at Bath. Two private detectives sent we to Glasgow; but I found the ticket was taken to Carlisle. Beaufort has done this; Worcester would not. Can Magistrates do as they like? Mr. Curtis Bennett took my home from me. I want Worcester to give

me £50 to leave the country. I was his mistress and have lived with him. If I go to prison I will be a worse devil after I come out. Can I have a solicitor? I want justice."—I found several documents in her possession.

Cross-examined. Among the letters I found upon her there was one from Lord Worcester's country seat—I do not know if it was from him—this letter was found on her (produced)—I do not know who signed it—it is from one of Lord Worcester's servants (saying that Lord Worcester's servant was being sent to Bath to make arrangements about the prisoner being sent to Scotland)—I have spoken to the prisoner on two occasions only—I spoke to her again at the Police-court, when she spoke about having a claim on Lord Worcester—she seemed to be in earnest—she appeared to believe in her claim.

GUILTY Six Months' Hard Labour.

NEW COURT.—Tuesday, May 3rd, 1898.

Before Mr. Justice Channell.

Reference Number: t18980425-331

331. FREDERICK GEORGE AMES , Feloniously killing and slaying William Thomas Upchurch.

MR. BIRON Prosecuted, and MR. GEOGHEGAN and MR. HUGHES Defended.

CHARLES UPCHURCH . I am a furniture dealer, of 139, Lillie Road—on April 1st I was going towards the City with my son on an omnibus—we came down the Old Brompton Road and got off at Sussex Place—we were going to South Kensington Station—my son got on to the refuge in the road, going across the road, I did not—we were together—I was waiting to cross the road a few yards away from him—he was ahead of me—I saw him leave the shelter, and an omnibus came sharp round on to him, and the pole caught him and knocked him down—the prisoner was driving it—I know the point at Thurloe Place where the 'buses stop, where the shops are—the 'bus was on the wrong side of the road—if it had been on the right side it would have passed on the other side of the refuge—I saw a Road Car 'bus on the proper side of the road—the defendant's 'bus was behind it, and the prisoner pulled off to the off side—I saw no reason why he should have pulled across—I went for assistance, and afterwards he was taken to the hospital in a cab and I followed—I have lived near this place for twenty years.

Cross-examined. I travel by this road very frequently, not every morning—coming down Sydney Place the 'bus would leave South Kensington Station on its right side—its proper course would have been to keep to the left of the refuge up to the corner of Harrington Road, which is parallel with the refuge—the proper place for setting down and taking up is in Onslow Place—I have never, up till now, seen a 'bus pass on the wrong side of the refuge—I did not see anything to account for the driver taking that unwonted course—I did not see a gentleman on horseback just before this happened, but I did afterwards—I did not hear two persons, one on the bus and one on the refuge, speaking—I did not hear what the driver said—it was the Road Car which prevented me from passing on to the refuge—the wheel of the 'bus did not go over my son; it rather shoved

him along—there were, I think, altogether two or three 'buses at the setting down point—I know what "quarter-lock" means—the front part of a van you can turn as much as you like, but there is not so much flexibility in a 'bus; you cannot turn it so much as a van, you cannot turn the horses at a right angle to the 'bus—he could not have turned his 'bus round.

Re-examined. If the 'bus had followed the road car and stopped at Thurloe Place it would have been behind it—but if it had passed on the wrong side it would have been in front.

BRISTOWE RHODES . I am a member of the Stock Exchange—on the morning of April 1st I was walking my horse down Cromwell Place—a 'bus passed me, not the 'bus the prisoner was driving—I think it was a road car—the prisoner's 'bus was the second—the prisoner came deliberately on the wrong side of the refuge—I say that because he did not hesitate at all—I could see the road, there was no occasion for his turning—when I first saw the 'bus I was approaching the refuge, and 18 feet away—I was in a straight line with the refuge—before the first 'bus passed I was coming out of Cromwell Place making for my own side—the first 'bus came on the wrong side as well—the first 'bus of all did not stop at the stopping place, it went on—the defendants 'bus came round and knocked the man over right in front of me—Ames did not call out, he did not see him—after the accident I was going on my way, but I turned back and went to the prisoner and said, "What did you come on the wrong side for?"—he said, "You seemed to hesitate"—I said, "It was nothing of the kind"—it would be impossible for me to hesitate, as I was approaching the refuge and not leaving it—the road was absolutely clear for him to go his proper side—my horse was quite quiet, he did not go out of a walk—the prisoner did not seem confused.

Cross-examined. I saw two 'buses actually in motion—I think the distance between the road car and the defendant's 'bus was between ten and twenty yards—I do not recollect his saying anything, except that I seemed to hesitate—I do not remember him saying, "You seemed to be hesitating which side you were going—I remember saying before "I afterwards said to him, "Driver, why did you come the wrong side?"—he said to me, "You seemed to be hesitating which side you were going "I said, "It is no use you talking like that; I had not got up to the refuge"—that is right—I was going in the opposite direction to the 'bus and kept my proper side—if I were to neglect the rule of the road my nearest way would be to come down on the off side—it is a very nasty part—I do not know the distance from the side of the refuge to the pavement, it may be eight yards or less—both sides are about the same—the driver seemed to hesitate before he spoke to me, not long certainly, but long enough to think of an excuse—I suggest that he hesitated to give an excuse—the driver said it was my fault the accident happened for one, and another man on top of the 'bus, nobody else—I have seen that man before (Mr. Hart)—he did not say that it was my fault—he has never said it to me—if he said it was partly my fault and partly the driver's he was wrong—the only other 'bus which went on the wrong side was the one immediately in front of the prisoner—I was moving all the time till the second 'bus came up—after I saw the first 'bus I brought my horse to.

a standstill—when I spoke to the driver of the first 'bus I did not stop, when I saw the second 'bus I did, otherwise I might have had the pole in my horse's chest—I was examined before the Coroner—I often ride in that neighbourhood—I came from Cromwell Place—I think the refuge is entirely in the right place—I did not hear that a representation was to be made to the vestry about the refuge.

Re-examined. I say it is in the right place—the first 'bus passed in front of me and across me—there were two other 'buses at the stopping place—I saw them in motion—I am quite sure there was not another 'bus before the one in front of the prisoner's, which passed on the wrong side.

ALFRED EARL (80 B). I was on duty at Onslow Place about ten minutes to nine on April 1st—I remember seeing two 'buses coming down Sydney Place—the prisoner was driving the second—the first was a road car one—the two 'buses were between four and six yards apart—I was on my beat and I came down there by accident—I had moved one 'bus on to make room for another—I was regulating the point just for a minute—the road car came on to the point—I did not see any indication of the prisoner going on the wrong side of the refuge till he reached it and turned short—I saw him turn—I could see the road in front of him—I did not see anything in front to make him turn—I heard a scream—I went up and saw a man on the ground—I did not see Rhodes at that time—I had seen him some time before the accident—I did not see the road car go on the wrong side of the refuge—When I found Upchurch on the ground I spoke to the prisoner—I asked him what had brought him there—he made no reply.

Cross-examined. I have been on duty in this neighbourhood five years—I am not on point duty, I am on a beat—I am not there to regulate the traffic in particular—no traffic is allowed to go on the wrong side when a policeman is there—to my knowledge light traffic is not allowed to go on the wrong side—I have been on the point there—there was only one omnibus in front of the prisoner's in motion—that was the road car—that was not 10 or 20 yards in front" of the prisoner's omnibus, only between 5 or 6 yards—the pace the prisoner drove at might have been a little more than 6 miles an hour—they were not racing—I said before the Magistrate, "I do not think the refuge is placed in a proper position in the road"—that is correct—the jury requested the Coroner to make a representation to the vestry about it—the refuge should be a little further down—as a matter of fact the omnibuses which come down Sydney Place turn right and left towards Old Brompton Road.

SAMUEL HART . I am a bootmaker of 286, Cable Street, Shadwell—I was in the road on the morning of April 1st.—I was coming off the pavement on the near side—I was going to the station—I was between the refuge and the pavement—I did not see any 'bus at all before the prisoner's 'bus, which came round the corner sharply—it crossed me and I saw the man knocked down.—I made a motion to the driver to pull his 'bus back to take the man out and then his father came up and attended him—if I had not seen it I might have got knocked down myself—I was about two yards from the obelisk—I could not see why he went the wrong side—he was simply going ahead—I do dot know that he looked as if he

was going to stop at Onslow Place—I was not looking at him when it happened, it was done so quickly.

Cross-examined. I saw what seemed like two gentlemen pass me on horseback, but he came past twice—I think he and the 'bus were going in the same direction—I am a foreigner and I hardly know what they asked me at the Police-court—I said, "It is your fault" to the pair of them—I did not mention any names—I did not mean either of them particularly—I said to the driver that it was his fault.

Re-examined. The gentleman on the horse was facing the 'bus—I was going from Onslow Place when the man on the horse passed on the off side—after the 'bus knocked the man down Mr. Rhodes came back and spoke to the driver, but I did not catch what he said—I said to the driver, "You are in default."

HENRY HUMBY (Police Inspector, B). I know about the regulation of the traffic at this point—the traffic never goes on the wrong side of the road, if it does it takes advantage of the absence of a policeman—if they do so I should summon them, unless it was to prevent an accident—I took the prisoner into custody on April 5th—he was driving his omnibus then.

Cross-examined. I did not prepare these plans—the warrant was not for manslaughter, the man had not died then.

CHARLES KEYSER . I am house surgeon at St. George's Hospital—on April 1st the deceased was brought in, and was suffering from injuries to his back—it was afterwards discovered that he had ruptured kidneys and liver—an operation was performed—he ultimately died—we considered that it was not prudent to take his depositions—the injuries I saw were sufficient to cause death—I should, say' the blow of the pole would be sufficient to rupture his kidneys.

GEORGE ANDREWS . I prepared this plan according to scale—it accurately represents the spot where the accident happened.

Cross-examined. The refuge is about 11 ft. long and 3 ft. wide—it is raised from the level of the street—from Lapworth's, the hosiers, to the refuge is 27 1/2 ft.—the curve gets deeper every yard—I think a 'bus would be about 6 ft. between the wheels—there is no record against the prisoner—there is width for two vehicles to pass each other on each side of this refuge.

JOHN TROUTBECK . I am the Coroner for Westminster—I was holding an inquest upon Upchurch on April 13th and 15th—the prisoner made this statement on oath—I wrote it down and he signed it:—"Frederick George Ames, 62, Brook Green, Hammersmith, stage driver, General Omnibus Company. I was the driver of the 'bus coming from Putney to the City. Coming out of Sydney Place across Onslow Square to pull on the point which is on the near side of the obelisk my attention was called to a horseman. He seemed confused, and I did not know which way to go. Thinking to give way to him, I pulled my horses to the off side. That was before I reached the refuge, thinking he would be coming between the refuge and me. Instead of that he turned round and went on the off side of my 'bus. I pulled the near side rein to give him a free passage. In the meantime deceased was meeting me. I only saw his back when the pole struck him. I stopped as soon as I could. I don't think he was pinched by the wheel. I have been driving between ten and

eleven months for the London General Omnibus Company"—he was not represented by a solicitor—the Jury must have been composed of residents in the neighbourhood—they made a representation about the dangerous position of the refuge.

ALFRED EARL (re-examined). Coming up Cromwell Road, Harrington Road is on your left—at the end of Harrington Street is a point where the 'buses stop—near the passage at the end of Harrington Road are private houses—there is no 'bus point there—they do stop there if hailed by passengers; but it is not a recognised point—I should not summon a man if I saw him stopping there—there are three lines of 'buses there.

Witnesses for the Defence.

WILLIAM FREDERICK WILSON . I am assistant-manager in the drapery department in the Civil Service Stores, Haymarket—I have no interest in the London General Omnibus Company—I did not know the deceased—on April 1st I got on a 'bus in Onslow Square, and about ten or twelve vards in front of us there was a road car—when we got to South Kensington Station the road car pulled round the lamp-post, and the 'bus I was on was following—I saw a gentleman on horseback coming from the direction of the Museum—I thought he was coming straight at us—I was looking at him all the time, and when he got close up to the 'bus the driver pulled his horses a little over to the right, so, in my opinion, as to give him a little more room to pass—there was ample room for him to get past the horses—directly afterwards the rider turned his horse to the left, and came to the side of the omnibus, which made the driver turn his horses to the left to avoid a collision, and then I heard a shout, and saw the off side horse step over somebody lying in the road—I was watching the whole time—the pole of the 'bus was pointing in the direction of the water-post, and the 'bus in the direction of Onslow Crescent—it was past the bottom of the refuge—in my opinion the driver did everything he possibly could to avoid a collision—I travel every morning by 'bus—we were going between five and six miles an hour—I heard a conversation between Mr. Rhodes and the driver—I believe he said, "You had no business on the wrong side of the refuge; if you had not been there this accident would not have happened"—I said, "If you had not hesitated this would not have happened"—that was my belief at the time of the accident.

Cross-examined. I did not know there had been an accident until I heard a scream—I did not see him knocked down—I was sitting at the back of the 'bus, the last seat—I think there was one passenger in front of me; there were seven or eight on the other side—I first saw Mr. Rhodes as he was on the hosier's side of the shelter—the road car went on the left side—there was nothing to prevent our 'bus from following the road car—if it had this would not have happened.

Re-examined. Mr. Rhodes at that time seemed to be going up the Old Brompton Road, and our driver turned so as to let him pass between the refuge and the 'bus, and then changed and brought his horses' heads sharp round the refuge—Mr. Rhodes got up to this point at the same time as we did—the prisoner did not go deliberately on the wrong side of the road.

FREDERICK HENRY AKERMAN . I live at 34, Cornwall Road, and am a

corrector for the press—I was on the outside of the 'bus on this day and had my attention attracted by screams—the 'bus had not then reached the refuge—I looked and saw a man under the front wheel—it was not resting on him, and some people came and took him away in a cab—the omnibus came to a standstill—the omnibus was on the wrong side of the refuge—part of the horse's body was on the wrong side of the refuge.

ARTHUR HENRY COTTLE . I live at 73, High Street, Putney—I am conductor of this omnibus—I did not actually see the accident happen, but directly afterwards I jumped off and found a man between the near fore wheel—I told the driver to move on to the corner of Harrington Road—I then heard what the people had to say—that was all I saw—I have been the prisoner's conductor five months and never known him to go on the wrong side of the refuge—at the corner of Harrington Road there is a recognized stopping place—my 'bus was not full, only eighteen or nineteen inside and out—there are twenty-six seats—if we had followed on our usual side that would have brought us to our usual stopping place—we always take up passengers there—if we had gone on in the direction our horses heads were pointing when the driver pulled them up we could not have gone to the refuge, we should have had to go on—by doing so we should have lost the chance of taking up passengers at the point.

By the JURY. It was not possible for him to go round the obelisk at the corner of Harrington Road after I got down.

Re-examined. We always stop at that place—I have been there nine months, and never went by without stopping—there were two omnibuses on this day—if we did go by the front it would be a disadvantage to the omnibus—they were not in opposition—there was no reason for racing.


THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, May 3rd, 1898.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-332

332. GRANVILLE HAWLEY EGERTON COOKE (26) , Unlawfully obtaining from Caroline Galloway and others postal orders for £5 5s. and other sums, by false pretences. Other Counts.—For obtaining credit by false pretences, having been convicted at this Court on July 12th, 1896.


The prisoner withdrew his plea, and PLEADED GUILTY to the Counts for obtaining credit by false pretences, upon which the JURY found him GUILTY .*—He received a good character since his conviction at this Court.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour;

NEW COURT.—Wednesday, May 4th, 1898.

Before Mr. Justice Channell.

Reference Number: t18980425-333

333. CHARLES HEATH (23, a soldier), Rape on Ada Phillips.

He received a good character in his regiment.


(For the case of John Turner see Kent cases.)

THIRD COURT. Wednesday, May 4th.

NEW COURT. Thursday and Friday, May 5th and 6th, and

OLD COURT. Monday, May 9th, 1898.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-334

334. FRANK OSTIME (28) , Unlawfully conspiring with John Perry and another person unknown to steal divers monies of the Queen's subjects travelling on the Metropolitan District Railway Company, and stealing 12s., the money of Emma Louisa Bolton.

MESSRS. J. C. MATHEWS and BODKIN Prosecuted, and LORD COLERIDGE and MR. J. R. RANDOLPH Defended.

THOMAS PROUD . I am second clerk at Westminster Police-court—on January 15th Mr. Safford took the depositions, and on January 22nd I read over the evidence to Ostime upon a charge against John Perry before Mr. Sheil for larceny from the person of Mrs. Bolton—Ostime was the first witness—on 22nd he was re-called and added something to his deposition, which I took—I read it over, and he signed it—no correction was made—the deposition was transmitted to the North London Sessions—Ostime was bound over to those Sessions. (Read: "Frank Ostime saith,—I am sub-inspector of Police Department of the District Railway Company. On December 10th about nine p.m. at Westminster Bridge Station I saw prisoner and another man on the platform going westward. I kept observation on them, and saw them go into a second-class carriage. I got in another compartment. They left the train at Earl's Court, and crossed over to the City platform. They entered a second-class compartment of a down train going back again. I entered another compartment. At South Kensington they all alighted, and waited on the platform from where they had got out till another train came up. On the arrival of the 9.55 Great Western train they entered the second-class compartment, in which was a woman. Prisoner sat opposite her; the other man sat on her left side. I followed them in another compartment to Sloane Square Station, where I saw the woman alight. I was unable to speak to her. I went to the compartment from which she had alighted, and said to the prisoner and the other man in the compartment, 'The game's up, Jack; you will have to come out at the next station. I am going to search you to see what you have got on you.' The man not in custody replied, 'All right, Ostime; you are taking a liberty. We have done nothing.' Prisoner said nothing. We all went together to Victoria Station. I went to the door of the compartment for assistance, when the woman who had alighted at Sloane Square came up to the carriage. She said, pointing to the prisoner and the other man, and in their hearing, 'These are the two.' The guard said, 'Will you charge them?' She said, 'Yes.' I requested them to alight. They did so. Just before alighting the prisoner said to the woman,' What have we done? We have not got anything; you can search us.' I, with the station inspector, took the prisoner and the other man to his office and sent for a police constable. While we were waiting his arrival a train ran into the station. After it had started, and was nearly out of the station, the two men took hold of me, threw me bodily out of the office on to the platform, jumped on to the foot-board of the last coach, and made their escape. I knew the prisoner well by sight.

Last night, about 10.30 p.m., I saw prisoner at Gerald Road Police-station in custody. I am certain he is the man.

Cross-examined.—I was an hour and a half before I saw you in the station. I was talking to the officer.—(Signed) F. E. Ostime. Re-called.—I received the purse from the station inspector, and handed it to the prosecutrix.—(Signed) F. Ostime.")—the other witnesses called were Serjeants Mew and Chibnall, Mrs. Bolton, Miss Louisa Day, Henry Merritt, and Frederick Cook, the warder.

Cross-examined. On both occasions Perry had an opportunity of cross-examining, and did cross-examined on the first occasion.

JOHN CONQUEST (City Police Inspector). I have charge of this case—I was present at Westminster Police-court on March 2nd when Frederick Perry was examined before Mr. Sheil in the presence of prisoner and his solicitor, Mr. Dutton—he was sworn in the usual way—he was cross-examined by Mr. Dutton—his evidence was read over to him—he signed it and was bound over to appear here—he has since died—I saw his dead body in his coffin—I produce a certified extract from the register of his death on March 12th—he died on March 9th in the Whitechapel Infirmary of pulmonary tuberculosis and fatty degeneration of the liver.

THOMAS PROUD (re-examined). I took this deposition on March 2nd of Frederick Perry—it is signed by him—the whole depositions which I took are signed by Mr. Sheil, the Magistrate.

Cross-examined. On January 22nd one letter was handed by the prisoner Perry to the Magistrate, and a further letter on the 28th, when he was asked if he wished to repeat his statement incriminating the prisoner—if he wished that same statement to go before the judge—the statement was handed the same afternoon to Inspector McCarthy by me.

Re-examined. The statement was in the form of a letter (produced)—it commenced "My Lord"—it is headed from Holloway Prison—having been asked if he wished it taken down, he said "No."

WILLIAM CHARLES SAGE . I am a clerk at the North London (Clerken-well) Sessions—I produce the original depositions transmitted from the Westminster Police-court to the Sessions House on a charge of larceny against John Perry, who was tried at the January-February Sessions on about February 2nd before Mr. Loveland, the Deputy-Chairman—Perry was convicted and sentenced to 20 months' hard labour, followed by two years' police supervision.

Cross-examined. I was not present at the trial.

CECIL GEORGE DOUGLAS . I am chief clerk at the Mansion House Justice Room—on July 24th, 1896, I took the notes of evidence before Mr. Alderman Vaughan Morgan sitting for the Lord Mayor, including a charge against John Perry, under the Vagrant Act, of frequenting a public place with intent to commit a felony—the prisoner, Frank Ostime, was a witness, also a City constable, who proved the arrest, and a witness for the defence was called—Ostime was sworn before giving his evidence—these are my original notes:—"Frank Ostime. I am a sub-inspector of the Police Department of the District Railway. At 2.45 p.m. yesterday, July 23rd, at Blackfriars Station, I saw the prisoner and two other men not in custody come on the platform. A train came up, and they each got into different compartments, each sitting near a female. I got in the train. On arriving at the Mansion House Station I removed the prisoner from

the compartment he was in, and told him he would be charged with frequenting the line to commit felony—he said, "I've done nothing." On Wednesday last (22nd instant) I was at Victoria Station of our railway, and I saw the prisoner and the same two men enter the station. They went on to the platform, and when the train came in they all entered a third-class compartment. The prisoner sat on the right of a female, close to her, the two others sat opposite. I entered the adjoining compartment, looked out of the window, and saw prisoner put his left hand into the folds of the lady's dress. All three men alighted at St. James's Park (although they had booked to Aldgate East), and sat on the seat. I spoke to the female. On the arrival of the next down train the three men walked up the train and looked into various compartments, and eventually entered one in which a female was alone. Prisoner sat next to her and the others sat opposite. At Temple Station they again alighted, and walked up the train, and entered another third-class compartment of the same train. The three men all alighted at Aldgate (Metropolitan) and went towards Brick Lane. I saw prisoner and the two other men each day this week on the line, and on other days acting in a similar way.

Cross-examined. I sat in the same carriage with you on Monday on 22nd inst. I had an opportunity to arrest you and yet I hadn't. I wanted to get the three of you. Yesterday I tried to get the two others who were with you. I was unable to pick them out as they had shifted their position."

EMMA LOUISA BOLTON . I am the wife of George Rice Bolton, of Devonia, Lordship Lane, Dulwich—on the night of December 10th I was travelling from Addison Road towards Victoria on the District Railway in order to transfer to the London, Chatham and Dover line for Lordship Lane—I started at 9.46 p.m., and travelled in a second-class carriage of a Great Western train—up to South Kensington no one else was in the compartment—as the train left South Kensington station two men sprang in the compartment—one was John Perry, whom I afterwards saw at Westminster Police-court—Perry sat facing me, with his back to the engine—I was riding with my face to the engine on the side nearest the platform, close to the door—the other man sat close to me—after riding a moment or two Perry dashed the window three parts up, saying, "Madam, would you like the window closed?"—it had been down—I said "No, only half way"—a moment after I felt my mantle drop heavily on my shoulder—I got out at Sloane Square—my purse had been in the right pocket of this dress—I went two steps, put my hand in my pocket, and missed it—this is it—I spoke to the guard, Merritt—I got into another second-class compartment a few more compartments towards the centre of the train—I had been shopping in the morning—I do not know how much money I had in my purse, but about 12s.—I had taken it out before I got into the train and had returned it to my pocket—there were a great number of threepenny pieces in it, four shillings' or five shillings worth, loose—I got out again at Victoria, stood on the platform, and saw the guard—I went back to the compartment in which I had travelled to Sloane Square—looking in I saw three men—Perry, his companion, and Ostime—the guard opened the compartment-door and said, "This lady accuses you men of picking her pocket"—Ostime said,

"You do not mean me, madam," or "lady," "I have not travelled with you"—I said "No, you were not in the compartment"—Ostime tried to leave the carriage—the guard said, "Stay where you are, and put his arm across the door"—Ostime tried a second time, but the guard would not allow him to get out—he remained till Inspector Shenton came—the guard told the inspector that I charged the two men with picking my pocket—I told him I had lost my purse, and that I could swear I had it when I went into the compartment—the two men were taken by Shenton and Ostime across the bridge and down the stairs on to the other platform—I followed at some little distance—when I got on to the other platform Shenton said, "Come along, lady, we know something of these men now"—he was walking towards me—I asked where the men were—I saw a train standing at the platform and go out, and the men escape in the train as it was entering the tunnel—as I was going up the stairs they got in the last coach—the prisoner came to where we were standing and said that the men threw him into the office and had knocked him down and got away—the next day, December 11th, Ostime brought my purse to my house—it had 12s. in silver, a first-class season ticket from Lordship Lane to Victoria and the City, and some papers in it and some credit notes from the Stores—Ostime said he was sorry to say they had not got the men, but they had got my purse and the money—that the money was found under the cushion of the compartment in which I had been riding, and the purse was found in the tunnel—there were a large number of threepenny pieces, sixpences and shillings in it—I believe they were the same coins I had lost—I do not think I had any large silver money in the purse—I gave evidence at the Westminster Police-court on January 15th and 22nd and afterwards at the Sessions House, Clerkenwell, when Perry was convicted and sentenced to 20 months' imprisonment.

Cross-examined. I am not a collector, but I frequently have threepenny pieces in my purse—I had opened a 10s. packet of threepenny pieces, and had spent some of them a day or two before—I had the packet two or three days before—I had used my purse in the meantime—I had put gold in it—I suppose I had near to £4 that morning to start with—I do not know exactly what was in the purse, but I put it at 12s.—when I went up to the carriage at Victoria, Ostime was sitting rather near the door—Perry was sitting in the centre on the opposite side—the unknown man was sitting the other end of the seat on which the prisoner was sitting—the prisoner was sitting in the same position I had been in.

Re-examined. I could not by going over my purchases possibly tell the amount I had—I knew it was not less than 12s.

HENRY MERRITT . I am a guard on the Great Western Railway, living at 13, vospur Road, Shepherd's Bush—I was the rear guard of the 9.46 p.m. train out of Addison Road to the Mansion House on December 10th last—the train travelled on the down line—it was a light train—I saw Mrs. Bolton get into ft second-class carriage alone at Addison Road—I noticed two men get in at South Kensington when the train was in motion—one was Perry—at Sloane Square Mrs. Bolton got out and made a statement to me—I helped her into another compartment nearer the centre of the train—I glanced into the compartment from which she had come as the train passed me, and got into my van—the train was due to

leave Sloane Square at 10.1, and Victoria at 10.4—on arriving at Victoria I jumped out of my van and ran to the compartment Mrs. Bolton had left—I saw Perry, another man, and Ostime—I stayed at the door of the carriage till Mrs. Bolton came up—Ostime was sitting on the platform side facing the engine, Perry on the opposite side facing Ostime—Ostime and the unknown man were facing the engine—Perry had his back to the engine—they were in conversation, but instantly stopped when I opened the door of the compartment—I asked Mrs. Bolton which was the man—she said, "those two"—I asked her which two, she replied, "The two on the far side," pointing to Perry and his companion—Ostime not in the same position—I asked Mrs. Bolton if she would charge the men; she said she would—Ostime got up to get out, making the remark, "I have nothing to do with this matter"—I replied, "Stop where you are; the station inspector will deal with you when he comes up"—three or four minutes afterwards the inspector came up—the train was detained—we were there five minutes—Ostime and Inspector Shenton acknowledged each other with a nod of the head—in consequence of seeing that recognition I let Ostime get out—all Ostime had said to me was that they all knew him, and I had replied, "If they do, I do not; stop where you are"—then Inspector Shenton took Perry, and Ostime took the other man, and I locked the door of the compartment and kept it locked till the train got to the Mansion House, when I made a careful search of the compartment—on the floor I found a threepenny piece near where Perry would have been sitting, and 11s. 9d. under the cushion on the opposite side, made up of shillings, sixpences, and threepenny pieces—there were 'five shilling pieces, 5s. 6d. in sixpences, and the rest in threepenny bits—then I came back with the train on the up line—on arriving at Victoria I saw Ostime and Shenton on the platform together—I said, "Where are the men?"—that was within half an hour of the time the train had left Victoria—we were a little late—Ostime replied, "They are gone"—I said, "Gone where?"—he replied, "They threw me down in the corner and got away by the up Circle train"—Ostime then asked me, "Why the devil did not you let me get out when, I asked you?"—I replied, "How did I know who you were? You might have been one of them, for all I know"—at that time Shenton had informed me who he was—I handed over the money which I had found to Shenton and went on with the train—I afterwards gave evidence against Perry at the Police-court and at the Sessions—I had never seen Ostime before that night that I am aware of.

Cross-examined. I was present when the depositions were taken, against Perry on January 15th at the Westminster Police-court—I did not hear Ostime give his evidence, because the witnesses were out of court—I said before the Magistrate, "I saw Ostime in the compartment on the seat nearest the platform, John Perry and another man on the opposite side, they were talking when I arrived"—they were not talking when I arrived—I simply took a glance round first—they were talking then, but immediately I stopped they were quiet.

Re-examined. My duty is to report the matter to our people at Paddington in writing, as an explanation of the delay—it is not a detailed account—I made no statement before I gave my evidence against Perry—at that time I had no reason to suspect Ostime.

GEORGE SHENTON . I am station-inspector at Victoria Station, District Railway—I have been thirty-two years in the company's service—I have known Ostime for some years—first as a clerk in the office, and afterwards as a travelling detective officer—I was on duty at that station on the evening of December 10th, when the Great Western train was due at 10.5 p.m. on the opposite side of the railway in the cloak-room—in consequence of a message I went to the Great Western train—I saw people gathered round the door of a compartment—Merritt and Mrs. Bolton were standing by the door—inside the compartment were three men—one was Ostime—the others I had never seen before—the guard was keeping them there—Mrs. Bolton complained that her pocket had been picked—Ostime said he had seen nothing of it—I noticed him sitting down, and I nodded to him—I said, "You must get out," and all three got out—Mrs. Bolton repeated in their presence that she had lost her purse—I assisted Ostime to take the two men across the bridge—I believe I took Perry, and Ostime the other one, who was a bigger man than Perry—I was close behind Ostime, and the lady must have been following behind me—the men were put into my room on the up platform—the Sloane Square end of the platform at Victoria—the key was in the inside of the door—Ostime said, "All right, George, look out for the lady," and I went along the platform to meet her, as she was coming down the stairs, near the refreshment-bar—I saw Ostime coming from the opposite side of the tunnel—a train had just gone out—the catch had not caught of my office door—Ostime came up, and said, "My God! Those men are gone"—I said, "Gone?" and he said, "You should not have left me"—I said, "You knew where I was; if you wanted me why did not you call me"—a passenger-suggested sending a telegram—I was going to telegraph before that suggestion was made, and I ran to the box to do it—the telegraph office is opposite my office—I went alone—I wired to Sloane Square in the hopes of catching the train and the two men—Ostime said they had jumped into the last coach—I sent for the police—two constables came—Ostime was there—I believe he gave them some information—I am certain Ostime did not telegraph—Ostime limped a little, but he seemed composed.

Cross-examined. Ostime entered the Traffic Department at a salary of 10s. a week—in November, 1886, he was promoted to the Police Department—I could not say what his subsequent promotions were—he has been the means of bringing to justice a large number of pick-pockets upon the line—I cannot say what his rewards have been, they do not come under my department—I looked upon him as a trustworthy servant, or I should not have left him with those two prisoners—from the bottom of the staircase to my office would be about thirty yards—I said before the Magistrate, "He could not have called while I was standing at the bottom of the stairs without my hearing; he might while I was running."

Re-examined. The train the men got into had not come in when I went to meet the lady—I heard no one call out, nor any shouting, or noise—he did not suggest that he had called me.

RION GEORGE STEVENS . I am a guard on the Metropolitan District Railway—I was front guard on the up Circle train, due at Victoria at 10.11 p.m. on December 10th—my front van would be about opposite Inspector Shenton's office when the train stopped—in accordance with my

duty I went down the platform as far as opposite the refreshment bar, and then I returned, shutting as many doors as I could as I went on back to my van—I saw nothing taking place in the inspector's office.

Cross-examined. The train was a long one, and there were many people on the platform—I had to hurry back to my van, which would be nearly in the tunnel when the train started—I might have seen a scuffle if there had been any by chance.

JOSEPH WIGGINS . I live at 15, Cowley road, Willesden—I am a guard on the Metropolitan Railway—on December 10th I was rear guard of the same train with Stevens—when I got out I walked part of the way up the platform and then gave the signal to the front guard to start—turning my back to the engine after the train had started, getting to my van as quickly as I could—I saw no crowd running to get into the train, nor any scrimmage or scramble—I saw no one get in after the train was in motion—I did not know Ostime—I cannot say that I saw him that night—my coach would stop nearly opposite the door through which the passengers enter the platform just before you come to the refreshment bar.

Cross-examined. I said before the Magistrate, "Many things might have occurred upon the platform without my seeing them."

Re-examined. I did not see any one fall against the signal-ladder by the tunnel, or run towards it.

JOHN ALFRED NEWMAN STEVENS . I am a secretary to a public company—I live at 3, St. Leonard's Terrace, Chelsea—on December 10th I was on the up platform at the Victoria Underground Station and going to Sloane Square a little before 10 p.m.—I saw a Great Western train come into the station from a contrary direction—looking across I saw some commotion at a compartment opposite where I was standing—I crossed over the bridge to the other platform to see what was the matter—I noticed three men go away—the prisoner was one—they went up the staircase across the bridge and on to the other platform—I followed them—there were other passengers in front—Inspector Shenton was on the platform when I left—they went into the inspector's office—while I was standing, about ten yards off, a train came in—say a couple of minutes afterwards, in the direction of Sloane Square—when that train had almost gone out of the station and the last carriage had nearly entered the tunnel, somebody came out of the inspector's room and rushed after the train—I could not tell you whether there was one or two or more—I saw no one left on the platform but the prisoner who was coming away from the tunnel—the inspector's office door is about five or six yards from the tunnel—Ostime said he should have caught one of them if it had not been for the ladder, and that he had hurt his leg by knocking it against the ladder—he was limping—I afterwards saw Inspector Shenton—I think Ostime was near enough to hear—I suggested to Shenton that he should telegraph to Sloane Square to stop the train—Shenton said it was too late, the train would be there before the wire—I heard no noise, or shouting or whistling—if there had been any I must have heard it—if Ostime had called out for assistance I should have been bound to have heard it—two or three weeks afterwards I met the prisoner accidently in Broad Street, City—I recognised him, and asked him if he had caught those pick-pockets—he said he had not, but he knew where to put his hand on one

of them—that would be about the end of December or beginning of January last.

Cross-examined. It was very dark when the men got into the train, which was going at a good speed—I merely saw a scramble and a rushing to get into the train—I noticed there was a ladder fixed there—on the platform I had a conversation with Ostime—he said he knew one of them and that he had one of them convicted before—he showed me some papers of commendations and rewards for detection.

GEORGE ASHTON (150 J B). I was on duty—December 10th—near Victoria Station—I was fetched into the station by a porter—I saw Shenton and a ticket collector on the refreshment room side—Ostime was also on the platform—about half-way between the refreshment bar and the inspector's office—Ostime said, "You have come too late; we have lost them"—I said, "How? Where are they gone f—he said, "I had them in the inspector's office, when they suddenly knocked me down and jumped into the last coach of a passing train"—some passengers were standing round, and one of them said to Ostime that he thought it was a most extraordinary thing for prisoners to be brought over from one side to the other without being led—he said they were in front of Ostime—I asked Ostime for a description of the men—he said, "I know one of them, Tom Perry, I have had him before," and he described him to be about 5 ft. 4 in., and his age as about twenty-five; that he was dressed in a long brown overcoat, that he had a felt hat, and I think he said light trousers, but I am not quite certain, and that he had a slight dark moustache—the other man he described as about 5 ft. 11 in.—he said he did not know his name, but that his age was twenty-two, and that he had a light, fair moustache, but that he did not know him—I took it down on a slip of paper, just as he gave it—I have destroyed it—I took it to the station and put it on a proper form, and afterwards sent it to the Gazette to be circulated in the information—this is the description—I believe it has been amended—it is altered from 5 ft. 1 in.—this is an exact copy of my note—5 ft. 11 in. is a printer's error.

Cross-examined. It was upon the description circulated that Perry was arrested.

Re-examined. To the best of my belief I took down the descriptions accurately.

HENRY JOSEPH SMITHSON . I am chief inspector of the Police Department of the District Railway—Ostime was sub-inspector under me—he entered the company's service in 1886 in the Traffic Department—between 1886 and 1896 he was engaged in the police duties of his then office—in January, 1896, he was appointed a sub-inspector at 35s. a week—that was increased to 40s. at the end of January, 1898—we have also a clerk, who ranks as junior sub-inspector—we do not require a large police service—we travel on the line in plain clothes, and keep a look out for suspicious characters—between July 31st, 1894, and December 10th, 1897, Ostime has received different rewards for intelligent and useful service in the capture of pickpockets and fraudulent passengers—on August 5th, 1896, he received a special gratuity of 5s. for detecting the pickpocket, John Perry—he was doing the duties of sub-inspector in December, 1897—on the morning of Saturday, December 11th, 1897, having reported

himself he said, "I had a narrow escape of my life last night"—I said, "How was that?"—he said, "It was all through that Shenton," meaning the station inspector—I said, "What happened?"—he said, "I had two pickpockets, Shenton left me in his room with them, they pushed me down out of the room, and made a dash and got into the train leaving the station"—I said, "Why didn't you make another dash and catch them"—he said, "I could not. It was the last coach they got in"—I said, "Were you hurt?"—he said, "I slightly sprained my ankle"—I said, "Did you telegraph to the next station, Sloane Square, to have the men stopped?"—he said, "Yes, but it was too late: the train had left there"—I told him to make a report of the whole matter—he said he fell on the platform, that they had thrown him down out of the room just outside—he said, "I know one of them well, you know him, too, well"—I said. "Who?"—he said, "Perry. We had him at the Mansion House"—the same day he made this report, which I submitted to the manager, Mr. Powell—it is addressed to him—it is in Ostime's writing, and is signed by him—(Read: "December 11th, 1897, Mrs. Bolton robbed of her purse, alleged by John Perry and another man, in second-class carriage of down Great Western train between South Kensington and Sloane Square Station, 10th inst. I beg to report that about 8.45 p.m., yesterday, 10th inst., I was on the platform of Sloane Square Station, and on the arrival of an up Great Western train I saw two men whom I recognised as expert pickpockets in a first-class carriage. I kept observation upon them for about an hour, during which time they travelled to and fro between Westminster and Earl's Court in first and second-class carriages, in which were ladies, but so far as I could learn no person lost anything until about 9.55 p.m., when I saw these men enter a second-class carriage of a down Great-Western train at Kensington, in which was a lady alone. On the train reaching Sloane Square I saw the lady alight. I watched the compartment, I being two or three compartments away, and seeing that the two men did not alight I suspected they had stopped the lady. I therefore entered the compartment in which they were then seated alone, and told them they would have to get out at the next station, when I should have them searched One of the men said, 'All right, Ostime; but you are taking a b——y liberty. We haven't got anything.' When the train left Victoria Station I was about to alight to call assistance, when the lady I had seen alight at Sloane Square came to the compartment with the guard and said these men had stolen her purse, and she would charge them. When Station-Inspector Shenton came up I requested the men to alight, and a crowd assembled. I, accompanied by Inspector Shenton, took them over to the station-inspector's room on the up platform. Inspector Shenton left me in the room with the men and walked back along the platform as far as the refreshment bar, where he stood talking to the lady who had been robbed, and a small crowd of persons who surrounded them. I whistled to him to come to me, but be apparently did not hear me. While in the room I asked the men for their tickets, but they were unable to produce any. As the 10.11 p.m. up Circle train was running out of the station I opened the door to see if a constable had arrived, when the two men rushed at me together, caught me by the arms, and

flung me bodily out the room on to the platform. They then ran and jumped on to the foot-board of, I think, the last coach of the outgoing train. I recovered myself, and again caught hold of one of them, but he swung his arm round and knocked me towards the month of the tunnel, but I saved myself from falling by catching hold of the signal ladder, and beyond slightly bruising my right foot against the bottom of the ladder I was not hurt, but the two men got clear away. I at once requested Station-Inspector Shenton to telegraph to Sloane Square, but the message arrived too late for anything to be done. The lady who was robbed gave me her name as Mrs. Bolton, 'Devonia,' Lordship Lane, Forest Hill, and said her purse contained about 10s. or 12s. in silver and a firstclass season ticket on the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway. I gave particulars of this matter, with particulars of the two men, to Police-constables 150 B and 203 B, who were called in, and asked them to have it circulated. On the return of the Great Western guard from the Mansion House he handed Station-Inspector Shenton 12s. in silver, which he said he had found under the cushion of the seat in the compartment in which these men had travelled. I also instructed Station-Inspector Shenton to tell the ganger to search the tunnels between South Kensington and Victoria, which he did, and during the night the purse, with the season ticket in it, was picked up by Ganger Staines on the ballast between South Kensington and Sloane Square. On asking Station-Inspector Shenton why he left me alone with these men he said he went to look after the lady who was robbed, as he was afraid she might not wait to charge them, and he suggested that I ought to have looked myself in the room with the men, and then they could not have escaped. One of these men was a big strong man, nearly six feet high, and I know him to be a boxing man. The other was a man named Perry, whom I charged at the Mansion House Justice Room on July 24, 1896, with attempting to pick pockets on the line. On that decision, after he had been sentenced, he turned to me and said, 'You f—r, I will put a knife in you when I come out.' This man is a very expert thief, and is a trainer of pickpockets. He has been convicted twenty-one times for larceny and attempted larceny, and about a month ago was indicted for stabbing a woman, but was discharged for want of corroborative evidence.—Tours obediently, F. E. OSMME. Alfred Powell, Esq., Manager."—I afterwards spoke to him from time to time with regard to this report—about three times a week—mentioning Perry—I said, "It is very strange this man, who is so well known, does not get re-captured"—he said he could not make it out—he went to the Eastend with Detective Chibnall, but he always returned saying he could hear nothing of him, the East-end being an expected resort of Perry—on January 15th Ostime reported himself at nine a.m.—he said, "we got that, fellow Perry last night"—I said, "That's a good job"—he said, "I was sent for late last night to go to Gerald Road Police-station. Shenton went as well. I picked Perry out, but Shenton made a mess of it. He picked out a boy of about eighteen"—I afterwards attended at the Westminster Police-court—formal evidence was given of the arrest, and Perry was remanded—Ostime has been in the habit of making reports to me—I am well acquainted with his writing—to the best of my belief Exhibit "E" is his writing—I have seen him write by

the hour together—it is a little more upright than he usually writes—"F," "L," and the envelope "G" are also in his writing—they are more like his natural style—the entry in the pocket-book, "Care of Mr. Catling," in longhand, and "9, Osborn Street, Brick Lane, Spitalfields," in shorthand, is also his writing—I understand shorthand—this copy is correctly transcribed—in consequence of Ostime's statement Shenton was blamed in relation to this matter—the prisoner's wages were not reduced—I paid him his 40s.—the prisoner's duty might take him to Aldgate Station once or twice a day, but not for many days—he might take the early or late turn, but there was no duty to take him there several days in succession—he never reported that he had been twice a day to Aldgate—between December 11th and 15th I got no information from him in relation to Perry—the paper of his report Exhibit "C" and Exhibit "F" are identical—the top sheet is not so good paper as the other—on the first page the marginal line is black, on the other it is blue—on "F" it is blue—I had charge of Perry's case, and attended the Police court, being responsible for the report to the directors of the railway company—the prisoner acted under my instructions—from my records I find the prisoner left duty at Victoria Station at one p.m. on Saturday, January 1st.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was in our department before I was appointed chief inspector—he was a clerk—since March 14th, 1894, he has been instrumental in bringing to justice a number of scientific pickpockets, including Dorset, or Goldman, an old offender of many convictions; also Wilson, Watson, Sanders, Castle, Neale, Ridler, Harrison, Jacobs, Jones, Anderson with many aliases, and Perry, and he has been repeatedly rewarded—many were old offenders—he was commended by the manager for his conduct in Perry's case, and by Mr. Loveland at the North London Sessions in the presence of officers who are here as witnesses—on his conviction in 1896 Perry threatened the prisoner—that is not unusual with prisoners—the travelling ticket-clerk's office is at the Audit Department, Charing Cross—I should not open private letters addressed to Ostime, only those on the company's business—complaints are made through the manager's office—I make inquiries and reported to him—the correspondence would be through the office—I should use my judgment as to whether a letter addressed to Ostime was official or not—letters addressed to Ostime, care of Station-master, would be left in the cloak-room if our office was shut—they should be brought up to our office if it is open—we have a letter-box on the up platform for those carried by the guard—a postman would deiver at the cloak-room—the prisoner's usual signature was "F. E. Ostime," sometimes "Frank E. Ostime"—the "E" is never omitted—Exhibit "E" is "F. Ostime," but that is an address—Exhibit "F" is not disguised—it is Ostime's natural writing, but careless—Exhibit "G" is his writing, carelessly written too, but not disguised, the same as Exhibit "E"—the buff paper is also used by the Police Department of the South Western, line—our clerk's name is Spencer—we each have an office key and there is a fourth key hanging in the cloak-room—on making inquiries I should not leave the address of my office if the person called upon were out—I have occasionally left my name as having called.

Re-examined. The prisoner was thoroughly trusted and looked upon as a clever and astute man—the rewards are voluntary, and not always, upon my report—the prisoner's averaged about 7s. 6d. each—the fourth key is in charge of the cloak-room attendant, and for the use of the cleaner, a porter—we have had three cleaners in two years—I know them all—the cloak-room attendant sorts the letters—there are not many for our department—letters from the manager's office mostly come in buff envelopes—we rarely get a communication direct from a passenger—about four in a twelvemonth—they mostly go to the station inspector—some have come addressed to the "Chief Inspector," "Superintendent of Police," or to me by name—I never knew one to come direct to Ostime—Spencer entered our service in February last year—he is about twenty years' old—to the best of my knowledge and belief Exhibits "E" "F" and "G" are prisoner's writing.

FREDERICK CHIBNALL (Detective B). I am stationed at Gerald Road Police Station, Pimlico—on December 11th I went to Victoria Station and received instructions—I saw the prisoner, and said to him "I believe you had a rough time of it last night?"—he said, "Yes. I had got two men in the station-master's office; they threw me out and jumped on the foot-board of the last coach and made good their escape"—I said, "Who are they? I believe you know them"—he said, "Yes; one is Waxy"—I said, "Who is Waxy?"—he said, "Tom Perry" and "We should know him. We shall find him round Aldgate. I have had him before. He got three months at the Mansion House"—he said, "I picked them up at Westminster Bridge and followed them to Earl's Court, where they alighted, changed platforms, and Centered the train going east. They alighted again at Gloucester Road, and waited till a Great Western train, came into the station, Perry and the other man. They entered a second-class carriage"—I said before the Magistrate that he said, "As the train was running out of the station Perry and the other man, whose name I do not know, got into a second-class carriage with Mrs. Bolton"—"At Sloane Square Mrs. Bolton alighted, and I entered the carriage with the two men, Perry and the other man"—then he said, "The game's up, Jack. You will have to get out at the next station and be searched"—at Victoria he said they were taken to the station-master's office by Shenton and himself; that Shenton left him with the two men, who knocked him down and made good their escape—I made inquiries and saw the prisoner again on December 13th, and went with him to Brick Lane, Spitalfields, and patrolled the vicinity, with a view to find Perry and the other man—the prisoner said we would find him round Brick Lane and Aldgate—I think he mentioned that Perry lived at Quitter Street—as we were passing Catling's coffee house, 9, Brick Lane, he said, "That is one of the places he uses"—I stopped and looked through the window to see if I could see Perry from his description, and the prisoner walked away 20 or 30 yards—the coffee shop was full of men, from 25 to 30—I do not think I could be seen—I glanced from the side—I was in plain clothes—I rejoined Ostime, and we stood or patrolled outside Aldgate East Station about three-quarters of an hour—so many people nodded to the prisoner that I asked who they were—fellows between 18 and 25—he said, "They are some of the boys," meaning thieves—not seeing anybody

like Perry, I went back to my station—on January 14th Perry was handed over by Serjeant Mew to me at Gerald Road—between 6 and 7 p.m.—about the same evening I went to Victoria Street, ascertained Ostime's address at Fulham, and wired him, and went back to the station—I also wired Shenton—Ostime came first, about 9 p.m.—Shenton came about 10.25—he had gone home, too—I put Perry into the charge room among six other men from the street—Perry's top coat was off—he had a jacket suit, his hat on the back of his head, and a handkerchief round his neck—he was placed with other men dressed in that way—Shenton was called in first and failed to identify him—Ostime was then called, and he looked up and down and touched Perry on the shoulder—Perry was put in the cells—he was afterwards put in the dock and charged with stealing the purse of Mrs. Bolton—he said, "I see you in Brick Lane"—I said, "Yes, perhaps you did, but I did not see you"—the first time I had been in Brick Lane was December 13th—I was there on January 3rd—both times Ostime was with me—I saw Catling's coffee-house—on January 30th I got instructions from Inspector McCarthy—I visited Catling's and received the three letters (produced) "E," "F," and "G," and this envelope from Catling.

Cross-examined. I was present when Perry was convicted at the North London Sessions—on February 2nd—I had handed the letters to McCarthy—I had some idea what the letters were—I had not read them—I did not know whether they were written by the prisoner or not—after Perry's sentence of 20 months' he made a charge against the prisoner—after that Mr. Loveland commended Ostime—after he was sentenced Perry said, "Instead of me going down these steps Ostime should be going down here and me going home. I have being writing to him, and Inspector McCarthy is making inquiries into my case"—Perry was represented by counsel.

Re-examined. It was said in open Court—I have often heard prisoners say the same sort of thing—afterwards Ostime said, "Do you know anything of this, Chibnall?" I said, "No. What is the good of taking any notice of him?"

WILLIAM HENRY CATLING . I keep a coffee house at 9, Osborn Street, Brick Lane—the postal address is 9, Brick Lane—it is a continuation of Osborn Street—I have been there about 16 years—I have known Perry about 14 years on and off—I knew he had been convicted—he used to take meals at my house by himself or with companions—I have taken in letters for him for 15 or 16 months prior to December, 1897—they have been addressed to John Perry, c/o Mr. Catling, 9, Brick Lane, or 9, Osborn Street—eight or nine have come with writing like these exhibits—I placed them in the rack till he came, when I handed them to him—he handed them back to me to keep, and I put them in an empty cigar case—in November there was an accumulation, which he very seldom asked for, and I destroyed a lot—his brother, who died, had been in a Ventnor home, and had written him continually—"E," "F," and "G" are some—this one was found in an envelope which I thought I had destroyed—the post-mark is January 19th—I never saw this piece of paper before.

Cross-examined. I do not know all the names of those who resort to

my house—I do not know George Bissell—the name Frederick Johnson seems familiar—I do not know Harry Sanders nor Dorset—nor Goldman by name, possibly by sight—nor Castle—Neale is familiar—I do not know Ridler, Harrison, nor Harris—I have heard Harris in the shop—a Mr. Wilson has lived next door some years—so many of these men go in different names—I do not know Jacobs, nor Henry Anderson—I know Jones, not Cohen, though the name is familiar—I destroyed letters about two years before, and early last November—letters came to Perry in three or four different hands—in the hand like the envelope "G 1" for 15 or 16 months—say about September, 1896.

Re-examined. This is the only letter I have read in this writing or anything like it addressed to Simon Levy—the three exhibits were found when Chibnall came—Perry's brother took two to Westminster Police-court—I sent for him to bring them back, and had them in my possession till Chibnall came, when I gave them to him—I found the third letter in the box when looking for the others at the brother's request—the empty cigar box contained other letters—some of my own.

GEORGE STAINES . I am a ganger on the Metropolitan District Railway—I received instructions on the early morning of December 11th last to search the line between Sloane Square and Victoria stations—I searched both lines of rails—I found this puree about 100 yards this side of Sloane Square—on the up road going to Sloane Square from Victoria—in the 4 ft. between the two rails in the centre—lying on the ballast—about half a mile from Victoria—the length of line from Victoria to Sloane Square is about three-quarters of a mile—I gave the purse to the inspector the same morning.

THOMAS HENRY GUERRIN . I am an expert in handwriting, practising at 59, Holborn Viaduct, having had great experience—I was instructed to examine these letters, E, F, G, and the envelope G 1, and Report C—having carefully compared them, I am of opinion they are the same writing—I find the same characteristics in those four exhibits and in the report to a greater or less extent—I have also examined the further letter and envelope produced, and am of opinion they are the same writing as the report and the other letters—the post-marks are: "Jan. 19, 1898, S. W.," and "E, 1.30, 19-1-98"—"1" is indistinct, but "30" I can see—(Read:" 19-1-98. Dear Jack,—I have been trying to see you all the week, but have not been able to do so. I have not done what you think, as there is no ill feeling. I want to get him out of it if I can. He knows it, and I want to see Jack Carter about it from him. Meet me outside Aldgate East Station, and bring Jack Carter with you, at 8 o'clock sharp to-night. I am all square, as you know.—FRED." To "Simon Levy, c/o Mr. Catling, 9, Osborn Street, Brick Lane, Spitalfields, E.")

Cross-examined. There is no mystery about an expert—he merely points out characters which the Jury may follow—similarity is quite consistent with imitation—(The witness admitted differences, but painted out the similarities in the four exhibits and the added letter with the writing in Ostime's Report C, and the character of the writing, particularly the joining of two and sometimes three words, which, in reexamination, he said were common to those documents.)

MOSS LEVY . I am a tailor, of 12, Park Place, West India Road,

Limehouse—I have known John Perry six or eight months up to March last—I also know Catling's coffee house—I have not seen John Perry there—I know Goddard's public-house in Osborn Street—towards the end of December I saw John Perry and two other men together there—I knew one of them by sight—I had seen him up and down Osborne Street—the third man, I believe, was Ostime—he was within hearing distance—Berry asked me whether I knew him, pointing to Ostime—I turned and said, "I think I know him in the City thoroughfares"—Perry said, "He is a District detective"—he asked me whether I would know him again—I said, "Yes"—in consequence of that conversation I took a good look at him—they were in the corner by themselves for about ten minutes—Perry called for three drinks when he first came in—I believe he paid for the liquor—I have not seen Ostime since till I saw him at the Police-court.

Cross-examined. I do not know Perry as Mossy—I have no shop—I did some repairs a week or a fortnight ago for a friend living in Whitechapel—Robertson—I have been out of regular employment about two or three months—I have always been at work—my home is about two miles from Brick Lane—I go there to see friends occasionally—a friend lived in a turning in Brick Lane—I do not know when he left—I don't know anything against Goddard's—I think he has sold the house—I cannot say what has become of him—I was connected with Goddard in Police-court proceedings—it was a betting transaction—I was a commission agent—I was fined £60 for betting in his house—Goddard was fined £100 for allowing betting—Mr. Payne, the manager, served the liquor—while Perry was talking to me Ostime was talking to the other man—they came in after I was there—Perry talked in a low voice—it was twelve months ago when I was fined—I was there two or three days afterwards—I passed occasionally and went in.

Re-examined. I was asked about the conversation two or three weeks afterwards by a detective—I believe he came from Commercial Street Police-court—I was asked to go to Westminster by detectives—I did not go till the last remand—I did not see Perry—I did not go in—it was January 28th—I heard he was committed—I did not mention the conversation—the other detective came to me a month or six weeks after the conversation—he asked me to make a statement in writing—he took it down—the next was a subpœna, when the prisoner was on his trial—I was not asked to identify, the prisoner—I knew him at once at the Police-court—I was called in when my turn came—I recognised him outside the court—I think I told one of the police.

GEORGE COX . I am a ticket collector on the Metropolitan District Railway at Aldgate East Station from 5 a.m. to 3 p.m. one week and from 3 p.m. to 1 a.m. the next week—in December, January and February last I saw Ostime there four or five times a week at odd times, once or twice a day, and then not for a day or two.

JOHN PERRY . I am now undergoing a sentence of twenty months' hard labour, which was passed upon me in February last, for a robbery from the person of Mrs. Bolton on 10th December, 1897—I have gone by the name of John—I know the prisoner quite well—I am near thirty years old—I have known him twenty-one months—on July 23rd, 1896, I took

a third-class ticket from Black friars Bridge to Aldgate, where I saw him when I was with another man in a straw hat—he asked me to get out at the Mansion House, and charged me with being a suspected person—I was taken by a police officer to the cloak-room—the next day I was brought before the Lord Mayor at the Mansion House, and sentenced to three months hard labour—Ostime gave evidence—I did not escape the sentence, which expired October 23rd—the beginning of December I was on the up platform of the King's Cross Station with the same man who had been with me on that occasion—the prisoner touched me on the shoulder from behind—I looked round and said, ""Halloa, what another liberty?" meaning three months—he said, "No, here comes Lionel Taylor; come off the station and I will tell you all about it"—that is an inspector on the Metropolitan Railway—I nodded to ray friend, and he came off too—he did not know the prisoner at the time—the three of us went off at the front entrance and into a large public-house on the righthand side and about fifty yards from King's dross station—we went into the saloon bar, and had several drinks—in conversation he told me Detective Hand-cock, who at the time was in the H Division, had bet him 5s. he could not catch me, and he said "I took you to win the bet. I know you are working the Great Eastern Railway in company with an officer named Campbell and another named Berry—two officers like himself—he said he was in league with the two officers—I understood him to mean that—I said, "you are wrong. I shall prefer your line"—meaning the District Railway—" to either the Great Eastern or the Metropolitan"—after that I put the question plain to him, and offered him £5 a week to let us work the District line with impunity—he considered for a minute, and agreed not to accept any limited sum, and said he would take a share, and chance whatever was got—one-half or one-third according to whether there were two or three—I said, "All right"—we did not separate for some time—after that I went on the District Railway, and the first day I got between £5 and £6, and gave the prisoner 30s. at night—two or three nights afterwards I went with a lady friend and met the prisoner, who was with a friend in a public-house opposite Big Ben—a third party, I don't want to say who, was with me—after that night in one week he had £7 or £8 off me in various sums, and other sums by the latter part of November—at the end of November I had poisoned my hand through cutting it, and did not go out—I was disabled for ten days—I had been living in Brick Lane, afterwards at Kennington, but then in Stamford Street—I was living at 78, Quilter Street, Hackney Road, at the time he arrested me in July, but when I got put of the train this time he said, "Quite right"—he sent a letter to 78, Quilter Street, it was brought by the landlord's nephew to me opened, and I was annoyed—I gave the prisoner "Care of Mr. Catling, 9, Brick Lane"—he told me to direct my letters to "F. Ostime, care of Station Master, District Railway, Victoria"—when I had the bad hand I received this letter from the prisoner—"December 5th, 1896. Have not seen anything of you this week. Have you backed out, or are you going to do as arranged? You might drop me a line to let me know"—underneath the letter is the address that was given—"Mr. F. Ostime, District Railway, Victoria Station, S. W."—this was the second letter—it was in answer to one I sent—I told him not to

send any more letters to 78, Quilter Street—I am not sure where this was sent—he said "Care of Station Master"—he lost one, and told me two or three weeks after he had not got it, then he told me he did receive it, and to put "District Railway"—it must have been in December—I do not suppose he had seen me for a week, because of my bad hand—I am not sure whether I answered it—I have sent him a good many letters—when I met him I introduced my friend, and arranged that he was not to interfere with him—he wanted a gold watch, and suggested the Mansion House as the best place to get it—I went to the Mansion House with my friend and another man, but seeing a suspicious sort of man I went away—I told the prisoner about it—he said I had made a mistake—I said I did not think I had—I saw the prisoner behind a hoarding—he said, "That man cannot take anyone in custody without referring to me"—I do not remember what I did next—I was arrested by Detective Mew on January 10th, and prosecuted under the Prevention of Crimes Act, and sentenced to eight months' hard labour on January 12th—I was released on September 11th—the latter part of September I met the prisoner in a billiard-room in a house in Aldgate—he asked me when I was going to start—I said I would start, and two or three days afterwards I resumed operation between Earl's Court and the Mansion House—sometimes the prisoner was with me—he had several sums of money from me during that time, and all through October—at the Police-court I said £20, but he has had a good deal more, including the £8—I will say £20 at the end off October—I have met him at Westminster railway station, as a rule at his own suggestion—he gave me a sign—if torn up papers were thrown this side the line he would be on the other—if they were on the other side I should find him at Gloucester Road or Kensington—at Westminster station there was a little glass window—no one would notice it unless shown—against the pay-box, where he could see everybody, and they could not see him—you could see his bat, but not his face, and in going to the public-house opposite Big Ben I should look for him first—about the end of October I met him in Aldgate about nine p.m. in the billiard-room of the public-house at the top of Middlesex Street—he asked me to go to the Charing Cross up platform after the play-houses were out—I went with him—he stood behind a gentleman while I stole his pearl pin—we went to St. James's Park station, and he passed me out with no ticket—took me back on the other side with no ticket—and I went to the Mansion House or Cannon Street—we had a drink—the ticket collector said, "All right, coming back?"—I left him there—I gave him the pin—it was not very valuable because it was a bored pearl, but I never saw the pin on him—the beginning of November, with three men I referred the police to, I met the prisoner at the corner of Middlesex Street, near Aldgate East Station—we had drinks in the bar—he said, "I want to recover a pearl pin" (it was a diamond with a pearl) "which was lost at the Mansion House about four weeks ago"—I made inquiries—he said I could trust him, the person who lost it was a shrewd man, and did not want to have anything to do with the police; but he would give £5 to the person who worked it back, and Ostime was to give me £3—I went to places where I was likely to get it, but could not—I sent him a letter and

told him go—he said he traced it to Netting Hill—then I received this letter:—"November 9th, 1897. Dear Jack,—I received your letter this morning. Thanks for making inquiries. Your friends did not have what I was speaking about. Since I saw you I have found it at Netting Hill, and hope to make a bit out of it in a day or two. If you want to do any business with me, you have only to drop me a line and make a meet. I should think you ought to get a good living up our way this time of the year. Hoping to see you soon.—Yours truly, FRED"—shortly after I received that document I went to Bristol—I was away about two weeks—the end of November I returned to the billiard-room in Aldgate—on December 10th I went on the District Railway—I was I not there on the 9th, as a lady witness says in my case—my companion and I took two tickets from Aldgate to Charing Cross, by which we could go up and down the line as many times as we liked by crossing the bridges, without being challenged at Kensington, Gloucester Road, or Earl's Court—when we got out at Westminster the prisoner was not there, and we went on to Kensington—I was following my companion to a second-class compartment when I saw the prisoner standing with his back towards me against the stairs—I pushed him with my shoulder as I passed him—he followed to the second-class compartment, and came in with us—it was at Kensington, next to Sloane Square—my friend sat on the side of the lady who was in the carriage—I think there was another lady in the carriage—I sat opposite, and the prisoner came and sat next to me—the purse was stolen—there were two robberies before Mrs. Bolton's—there were three in about three quarters of an hour to an hour—the lady got out at the next station—we went on to Earl's Court—it was a dark green lap-over purse which my friend stole—it contained 6s. 8d. or 6s. 8 1/2 d.—I put the money separate in my pocket—Ostime asked for the purse as he wanted to take it home—he put it in his pocket—at Earl's Court the three of us took the train back—we got into a second-class compartment—there was another lady, and we occupied the same position as before—the purse we stole that time did not contain any money—it was a light lap-over purse, and full of papers—the woman got out, I think, at Gloucester Road—we looked over the papers and gave them to the prisoner, purse and all—at Kensington my companion and I got into a compartment with another lady, Mrs. Bolton, who gave evidence against me, just before the train went out—my friend sat by the lady's side—I sat opposite—the purse was stolen at Sloane Square—the lady got out—then the prisoner got in, and looked along the platform where the lady was going—he said, "It is all right"—my friend said, "Feel the weight of this, Fred," and gave the purse with its contents into the. prisoner's hands—he balanced the purse in his hands and gave it back and said, "They are quids," meaning sovereigns, by the weight of it—my friend opened the purse and looked into each compartment, and said, "It is not gold, it is silver"—he counted the money, and there was £1 1s. 3d., made up of sixpences, five shillings, and about five shillings in threepenny pieces—we shifted towards the far window, the prisoner opened the off window, and the purse was thrown out—we shut the window up again, and I took all the threepenny bits as I thought, and added to them, and

gave the prisoner 8s. out of that purse, but I found I had one in my hand after I put the money under the cushion—I gave the prisoner the threepenny bits because, like five-shilling pieces, they can be identified, and he was not likely to be searched—as we were counting over the other money the train got into Victoria, and as I was giving my friend his share of the 6s. 8d. the prisoner said, "Look out Jack, here she is, with a guard at the door, Do away with the money. I will search you," or "have you searched and do my best for you, and make it all right"—the prisoner was on my left and the friend opposite, near the same window—the guard opened the door and said, "This lady accuses you men of having her purse"—the prisoner got up and went to the door near where the lady was standing, and said, "Do you mean me, lady?"—she made a reply I did not catch—something about "two"—I was putting the money under the seat—the prisoner was in front of me, standing at the door—after a little altercation between the prisoner and the guard, Inspector Shenton came up—he said, "He is one of our detectives," and then to prisoner, "Take them to the office"—the prisoner said to me in a stern voice, but winking his eye, "Come on out"—I stepped out and he walked by the side of me—as we crossed the bridge to the other platform the prisoner said, "Do away with your ticket Jack and tell (so-and-so) to do the same" (as he was walking behind) "you know they are wrong, they will do you"—the tickets were for the up line—I crushed my ticket and threw it on to the platform—before I entered the office, when my friend was close to me, I told him to do the same—when the prisoner was with us in the office he said, "Whatever comes I will do my best. They have gone for the police. I thought they would search you and be satisfied"—my friend said, "She has got me for it, I have no other chance to get off, let me go away"—the prisoner said "How?"—I heard a train coming in so I said, "Let us both go in this train"—the prisoner considered for a minute, peeping out of the door on to the platform, then he said, "You push me down to straighten me with these people"—meaning the railway people—the prisoner bided his time and then said, "Do it quick, here they come"; and opened the door—my friend went off first—he stopped in the doorway—I stopped him and went off too—the prisoner might have staggered, I do not think he fell—lam positive he did not—we got into the same carriage, but into different compartments, when the train was in motion—on arrival at Sloane Square I put my dark brown overcoat on my arm—we jumped out, passed the ticket collector and out of the station—I was clean-shaved—my height is about 5 ft. 6 in.—I would not betray my companion—he is an inch taller than I am—I saw Ostime about a week afterwards in Brick Lane—my friend was with me—the three of us went into Goddard's public house—I saw two persons I knew—I called for drinks—Ostime said, "There was rather a commotion after you went, they did go on—I delayed them sending a telegram on to detain you at the up stations as long as possible, to give your train a good start, and if you had gone on further they would have had you because they were waiting for you"—I was about to tell him where we got away, and he said, "I know all about it"—he said, "The ticket collector said one of you pretended to feel in his coat, and said, "I have dropped my ticket from Victoria"—he said he had blamed it all on to the

inspector for leaving him to clear himself—he said the inspector had been suspended for a month, and he had been reduced 5s. till we were re-captured—referring to my description he said he had given me as 5 ft. 7 in. I think a hard felt hat, a coloured tie, no moustache, a brown overcoat, "which," he said, "I was obliged to give, as other people have seen it," and that my friend was 5 ft. 11 in.—he said, "I brought Detective Chibnall down for a blind the other day," meaning to Aldgate, "bat he is only a mug, so it is all right"—he said he had been to the lady, she knew nothing, and the guard knew less—he said he had found the money, and the purse was found—he did not say he had taken them back—he said, "Everything lies with me"—my friend gave him a half-sovereign, and I gave my friend 5s. towards it—I said, "If the police round here should take me, they have seen my coat, they would know me"—he said, "I will be tot and make that all right"—Moss Levy, a book-maker, was there, and nodded to him—I only knew him as "Mossy"—I called his attention to the prisoner—the prisoner said, "Let me go out first, you come afterwards"—he went out first—my friend and I followed—on December 21st or 22nd, going to the billiard-room in Aldgate, I met the prisoner at the corner of Commercial Street—he said, "I was just coming to look for you"—we went into the public house at the corner and had drinks, and I gave him a sovereign as he pleaded poverty—he said it was all blown over—we separated, and he said he was going on to the District Railway—I next had handed to me this letter by Mr. Catling—I cannot swear to the envelope—(Read Exhibit "G ": "Saturday. Dear Jack,—I do not want you to think I want to bother you, but I remember you said that a friend of yours said what I did for you was worth a fiver. Well, I do not want a fiver, but I am in a bit of a hole, and I have got to get a quid by next Tuesday morning, or else I shall go under. So I thought I would write and ask you if you would lend me a quid for a little while. You know I told you I had dropped a bit over that job, and it is making it a bit rough for me. So if you could send us quid on by post, I should be very much obliged. I think that job is all blown over now. Do not forget to do this for me if you can, Jack. You know I will always do what I can for you. Yours truly,—FRED." To "Mr. John Perry, c/o Mrs. Catling,.9, Osborn Street, Brick Lane, Spitalfields, E." Postmark of January 1st.)—I answered the letter, and sent a P.O.O. or P.O.—it bad no name on—on 14th January I was arrested by Detective Mew (who had arrested me the previous year) at the corner of Commercial Street, where I met the prisoner in December—I was taken to Scotland Yard, and then to Gerald Road—when I got to the station I asked the inspector to give me a fair chance—I saw witnesses and Chibnall in the charge-room, but could not speak to him—Inspector Shenton picked out a young man who was next me—the prisoner walked up the ranks and back again, winked his eye, and picked me out—at the Police-court the next day, when Chibnall—was standing aside me as a railway officer, he took me over to the window and said, "I thought the inspector picked you out first, or else I would not have done so. I will see what can be done here," meaning the Police-court. "Tell so-and-so" (referring to the other man) "to see me. In the meantime, if I cannot do it here, I will throw them over at the Sessions"—he was called and gave evidence against me—I was remanded till 22nd

—whilst under remand I saw my brother, who has since died, at Holloway, and on 22nd February he was at the Police-court with some of my letters—there ought to be more; I had about a dozen from the prisoner—the three letters ("E," "F," and "G") were given to the gaoler and passed to Mr. Green, who was defending me—my solicitor read the letters, handed them back to me, and shook his head—I gave them back to my brother Fred when he came to see me after the trial—I was remanded to the 28th—whilst at Holloway I wrote a statement to Mr. Sheil and asked for another remand—I brought it down on the 28th—this statement having been handed in I was committed for trial at the North London Sessions four days afterwards—the prisoner appeared and gave evidence against me—having been tried and convicted, I was visited in gaol by Inspector Conquest and another officer, and I made a statement to him—I subsequently made a second statement—I did not see the prisoner in Brick Lane, but from the prisoner's description I knew him as soon as I entered the station—the prisoner said we had seen him in Brick Lane.

Cross-examined. I do not know Dorset or Goldman—I cannot say I know Bissell—I remember two cases of conviction—I do not remember names, besides they go by different names, it all depends who gets them—I know Neale, Ridler, and Harrison too well; the prisoner had them in custody, and had a sovereign off them—I know the prisoner has been in several cases—many men are locked up I don't know—I knew three or four Lipmans—I could not tell you whether the conviction for the robbery on December 10th was my twenty-first, I have had my share—I do not keep count—some were for frequenting—but your client is an incorrigible saint, and you want to wash him and make him like us—my liking detectives is a matter of form, we are fighting one against the other, it is our place to hide and yours to find—I never made any charge against Conquest—nor Mew—I made a statement, that is not a charge—I was in bad company—I say now Mew acted out of spite—Warder Cook has proved convictions against me several times—I did not say I would do for the prisoner; I did not want an extra month—the solicitor said that I said I would shoot him—I did not—I might have said I would have my own back, or would be even with him—if you want a rough guess, I have been in 40 or 50 robberies—with Ostime I could not say how many—it is not impossible or even much trouble to say, but I should implicate other people—I need not go further than my own case, other people have nothing to do with me—he has been with me in more than 40 or 50 among other people, but I frankly refuse to say anything about other people—I did not say before the Magistrate that I could connect him with 150 charges—I do not know—I might have said it—if I did, it would not be far out—since meeting Ostime to my arrest, I may have been six months out of prison—I did not meet Ostime casually on December 10th; he expected me in the day-time as I met him in August—I made two statements to Conquest—I cannot say whether I said I met Ostime at West-minster in consequence of a letter I received—if I did not meet him at Westminster I knew where to meet him—it was a mistake—I got a letter—not that one: "Jack,—Meet me tonight. 8 o'clock.—FRED."—I do not know that I did—I said before the Magistrate I saw him at Kennington and not at Westminster, and I have said that to-day—I do not know

which Kensington it was—I could not swear what I said to Conquest—you are in front of yourself—you have put it down wrong—Mossy Levy is no friend of mine—no acquaintance—I have known him three or four years—making bets—he has used the same public-house—I cannot definitely say how long I have known him—I do not know whether he is a relative of Simon Levy—I know a lot of Levys and three or four Simon Levys—the manager and two others served at Goddard's—I do not know the names of public-houses we have been to—I cannot say I have heard of Champness's—Ostime did not say that the pin had been found at a pawnbroker's—I do not think I told Conquest so—I am positive I did not—I said I was in company with George Glock and Charles Boyce—I have gambled; that is honest—in my letter at Hollo way to Mr. Sheil I spoke pretty plain—I disclosed nothing—I said I could connect the police in London—Ostime was the principal one—I did say, "He lets those he fancies work without any fear, and he gets his share," and so he does—I do not remember all I said.

Re-examined. I first communicated with Detective McCarthy—this is my statement to Mr. Sheil: "John Perry, Holloway Prison." (Dated January 27th, 1898, in pencil.) "My Lord,—In calling your attention to certain facts concerning my case and a officer connected in it. It is not my word only, but two different persons where he has sent letters to me in there care. I have some of the letters still, which I gave to solicitor last week. I don't wish to go into details at present, but with your help no doubt you will hear things from witnesses which will surprise London. In his, Mr. F. Ostime's, evidence he swore he ain't saw me since December 10th; if you will bind and order the persons I refer you to, you will hear a lot. I have one letter from him about, the 5th of this month requesting a sovereign, which I sent to him c/o station-master, Victoria. I gave him two half-sovereigns before, one about December 20th in Aldgate, another the end or beginning January. Several persons saw me go in the public-house; one man was in saloon with a friend; he saw him, and I told him who he was. I gave him half-sovereign then, this person saw me. This last fourteen months he has had my money, whenever he sent. Nor am I the only one; he knew where I lived, and knew he only had to send to Commercial Street police; that is what makes me believe there has been fool play. He told me about this affair himself, and he got the men away and delayed the person wiring along to next station, and put it all on to the station inspector to clear himself. Told me inspector was suspended, and he was reduced live shillings a week over it. He lets those he fancy work without any fear, and he gets his share. I used to do the same, but left him long ago, although he has sent letters requesting me, as you will hear and see. I believe Mr. Button will speak to you next week. I merely mean to give you a hint to enable you to give me a chance to clear myself, it ain't my past, but the present that wants investigating. I petition to you to grant me another remand, and same time would you order these witnesses to appear. I wrote to Police, Commercial Street, but ain't received any answer to tell these to appear. Mr. Charles Harrow, 78, Quilter Street, Bethnal Green. He received one letter. I was not there then. He read it, and sent it to me open—Mr. W. Catlin, No. 9, Brick Lane, Spitalfields. He has received the others

and minded them. These people saw Ostime with me in Aldgate and Brick Lane. Mr. F. Jones, George Boyce, Robert Harrow, and another, Mossey by name, George Glock, Charles Lee. Don't know their addresses. Could direct Police, who could see them every night.—I conclude, your humble Servant, JOHN PERRY."—I did not think I said so much—after I was convicted no one communicated with me before conquest—I am only now privileged to write a letter—I did not know Conquest was coming—I made a statement, and he took it down—I was taken by surprise—I signed it—it was three weeks before I made this further statement to him of February 8th, 1898—I there refer to the persons I mentioned to Mr. Shell in my letter—I nearly always took two tickets from Aldgate to Charing Cross or Bishopsgate to Westminster—on December 10th I must have gone on to Kensington, because I was looking for the prisoner—I saw the prisoner at Kensington, and travelled with him to Earl's Court—we need not cross the bridge to return eastwards. (The Deposition of Frederick Perry: "I live at 24, Thrawl Street, Brick Lane. I am a shoemaker. I am the brother of a man named John Perry, who is at present undergoing a sentence of twenty calendar months' imprisonment at Wormwood Scrubs. I came to this Court while my brother was under remand on the 15th January. I had some conversation with the prisoner. After my brother had been remanded on the 15th I saw the prisoner Ostime in the Waiting Room here. Prisoner spoke to me first. He said, 'Are you Waxy's brother?' Waxy is the nickname of my brother John. I said, 'Yes, sir. I think they call you Ostime. He said, 'What are you up here for?' He said,. 'I suppose it's to bring them letters up.' I said, 'Yes, I've brought them up on me—my brother wishing me to bring them up.' He said, 'Well, he'll be a b——fool for himself if he brings them to light. I've got something in my pocket for which he will go down.' I had the letters in my inside pocket. I said, 'I can't help it; it's what he wished me to fetch them up.' He said, 'All right. He knows best. If he's going to act dirty like that I can be the same. I have got something in my pocket which he'll go down, but I don't want to. We know each other too well for that. You tell him so.' He says, 'If he leaves everything in Green's hands (that's the solicitor) he'll get out of it. If he doesn't, there'll be a fall.' I took the letters home again. Detective Mew came up before the conversation ended, and Ostime then walked away. No one else was present but our two selves in the Waiting Room, near the cells. It was about ten minutes after the Court was all over." Cross-examined: "This conversation took place after my brother was remanded—after the first remand. I could not tell you the date. I know my brother requested the letters up on his remand. My brother was taken into custody and remanded a week. I brought the letters on the first day. My brother asked me three days before he came up to bring the letters here. He told me with his mouth. I saw him at Hollo way Prison during the week's remand. I did not go to the prisoner Ostime and say, 'Is your name Ostime?' He did say, 'Yes; are you Waxy's brother. I did not say, 'Yes; how do you think he will get on?' I did not ask how he thought he would get on. Ostime did not say,' He is sure to go down; but you had better leave it in the

hands of Louis Green, his counsel.' The other detective, Mew, said that. He was not present at the conversation between me and the prisoners, fort was present after It was the prisoner who advised that my brother should leave himself in the hands of his counsel, Louis Green. I had a little conversation with Serjeant Mew that day. Ostime was not present. He spilt away when he saw him coming. I have made a statement to Inspector Conquest, some time last week. It was signed by me after it was read over. I have been convicted twice, and been to prison twice. The first time was in 1893 for felony. I got six months. The next time was in 1896 for felony. I got six months again; that is all. I have been convicted more than twice—about four times for felony; put' it at the highest, five times; I have not had penal servitude. The longest time I have had was fourteen months. That was about eighteen months ago. I was released eighteen months ago. I will take my oath I have only been five times convicted.—(Signed) FREDERICK PERRY."

WILLIAM MEW (Scotland Yard Detective.) I know the convict Perry tell—I had him in custody in January, 1897—he handed in a statement to Sir James Vaughan at Bow Street—I arrested him on January 14th in Commercial Street, Whitechapel, and brought him to Scotland Yard, And then to Gerald Road—I was at the Westminster Police-court the next day—I saw Ostime, Chibnall, and Perry in the waiting room—Ostime was admitted as a railway police official—they were near the window—I was three or four yards away—there was a conversation—I did not hear it.

Cross-examined. Perry told the Magistrate I had some spite against him, but the Magistrate was satisfied he was telling an untruth—he did not accuse me of malpractices.

ALFRED HAMLIN (Inspector, B.) I was on duty at Gerald Road Police-station on the night of January 14th—Perry was detained there when I commenced duty at 10 p.m.—I took the charge against him about 10.30 or 10.45 p.m.—Ostime was present—according to the usual practice, Perry was asked his address—he gave 78, Quilter Street, Hackney Road—a telegram was sent to that address—9, Osborn Street was not mentioned—Perry had been in the cell an hour when I was requested to send a telegram—I got no other address.

JOHN CONQUEST (Scotland Yard Detective.) About 9 a.m. on February 23rd I went with Inspector McCarthy to Victoria Station—I said to the prisoner, "We are police officers. I have a warrant for your arrest. You will be charged with being an accessory, before and after the fact, to the robbery of Mrs. Bolton at Victoria Station on December 10th last; and, further, with assisting Perry and another man to escape"—he said, "I do not understand"—he was taken to Rochester Row Police Station and charged on the warrant—he made no further answer—I searched him—I found this pocket-book in which is the address, "c/o Mr. Catling," and then something in short-hand; also reward tickets in the book for services rendered, ranging from 4th July, 1894, to 10th December, 1897, and this official railway diary—I went to his apartments, at 5, Brookfield Road, Fulham—I found this dark green purse, a sovereign purse, and a lady's card case, a lady's reticule, and a hat brush in a leather case, with a monogram which has

been identified, but the gentleman cannot say how he lost it—a reward is offered if lost, and the address—he had two or three, shillings—I first received information about this case pa February 1st or 2nd—I saw Moss Levy at the first hearing before the Magistrate about March 2nd, in consequence of seeing the prisoner, Perry, on February 8th—I took the statements produced—Ferry was kept apart from other people at the Police-court—I had several interviews with Mr. Catling—I received these letters from him—the exhibits, including the Report "C," were handed to Mr. Guerrin—these letters were received by me in consequence of inquiries I made—"16th February, 1898. Dear Sir,—I received information stating that you are in quest of the letter I received from that gentleman Master Ostime. I have enclosed the article. Mr. Conquest, I am willing to do all you want me to on one condition, that is that you will give me your word I'm not prosecuted. I have a wife and three little children to look after, and it's very hard. Please, sir, reply to Mr. Catling. Name, Simon Levy." Catlings address. Enclosure:—"19.1.98. Dear Jack,—I have been trying to see you all the week, but have not been able to do so. I have not done what you think as there is no ill feeling. I want to get him out of it if I can. He knows it, and I want to see Jack Carter about it from him. Meet me outside Aldgate East Station, and bring Jack Carter with you at 8 o'clock sharp tonight. I am all square as you know.—FRED."

Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner's wife—she made a statement with regard to other articles, which satisfied me they were her property, and I did not bring them away—she could not account for those produced—I am not acquainted with the practice of the District Railway with regard to lost articles—they employ their own police, and if they apply for Metropolitan Police they have to pay for their services—the Metropolitan Police travel on omnibuses and so on to protect the public.

HENRY JOSEPH SMITHSON (further cross-examined.) The practice of the District Railway with regard to lost property is: articles found are taken to the Lost Property Office at Victoria; if not claimed within twelve months they are sold among the staff—we leave a margin of another six months—articles of considerable value are sold on a different system—at Parliament Mansions on another date—principal officers are entitled to go to that sale—if the address is on the article we write to the owner once or twice, then use our discretion—that would depend upon the value of the article—if not claimed, we should have no option but to sell it—Ostime has attended the sales—I have known him purchase articles.

Re-examined. From inquiries, as far as I know, the owner of the brush was communicated with.

GEORGE ASHTON (150 B further cross-examined.) When the men had just gone, a gentleman on the platform said of Ostime that he considered he was a very plucky man to try and hold them.

The prisoner received a good character.

GUILTY .— One year and ten months' imprisonment.

The police engaged in the case were commended by the JUDGE and the JURY.

OLD COURT.—Tuesday, May 3rd, 1698, and four following days.

Before Mr. Justice Phillimore.

Reference Number: t18980425-335

335. THOMAS EDWARD BRINSMEAD, FRANCIS RICHARD JORDAN, ERNEST ALBERT HARRISON AINSWORTH, HENRY PETER BERNARD, WILLIAM HENRY KAYE , and EDWIN BALLANTINE ( Ernest Herbert Lomax was also indicted with the above, but did not appear.) For unlawfully obtaining by false pretences from William Richardson an order for the payment of £112 10s. and other orders for the payment of money from other persons, with intent to defraud. Other Counts, For conspiracy.

THE SOLICITOR-GENERAL (Sir R. B. Finlay, Q.C.), MR. SUTTON, MR. C W. MATHEWS, and MR. HORACE AVORY Prosecuted; SIR EDWARD CLARKE, Q.C., and MR. C. F. GILL appeared for Ainsworth and Bernard; MR. LAWSON WALTON, Q.C., and MR. R. D. MUIR for Kaye: MR. R. D. MUIR for Ballantine; and MR. NORMAN CRAIG for Brinsmead.

GEORGE JOHN SARGEANT . I am a clerk in the office of Registrar of Joint-Stock Companies at Somerset House—I produce a file of documents connected with the company called Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, incorporated on March 25th, 1896, with a nominal capital of £8,000—by the memorandum the object of the company is that of acquiring and carrying on the business of pianoforte manufacturers carried on by Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons at Bartholomew Works, Kentish Town—Francis Edward Jordan, 116, Chancery Lane, W. C., registered that company—among the documents before me Mr. Francis Richard Jordan is described as acting secretary to that company—the names of all the seven signatories are Brinsmead; and first among them is the name of Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead—there is a further agreement, dated March 27th, 1896, filed on the 31st, under which the three Brinsmeads, Thomas Edward, Edward George Stanley, and Sidney Walter Brinsmead, purport to sell the business to the company for a sum of £6,000 in fully paid up shares—there is an agreement filed under the date of April 2nd between the same parties to the issue in different proportions of fifty £1 shares apiece to each of the three Brinsmeads, 3,850 to Francis Richard Jordan, and 2,000 to Emily Ann Eli, making up 6,000—that second agreement of April 2nd purports to be signed by Francis Richard Jordan, as secretary of the company—under the date of April 22nd, 1896, a special resolution for voluntarily winding-up the company was passed and confirmed on May 9th, 1896; under which Jordan was appointed liquidator in the winding-up—the last summary of capital and shares connected with that company was filed on July 29th, 1896, showing the total number of shares taken up as 6,007, 6,000 of which have been dealt with in the different proportions, and the seven original shares to the signatories to the memorandum—there is a consent by the old company in the same file—on June 29th there is a consent by Jordan as liquidator of that company for the registration of a company under the same name:—this is the file of the second company that was registered on July 22nd, 1896, called Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited; the object of the company is that of acquiring as a going concern the business of pianoforte manufacturers

then carried on by the three Brinsmeads at Bartholomew Road. Kentish Town—Francis Richard Jordan, of 116, Chancery Lane, registered the papers—the nominal capital of this second company was £100,000 in £5 shares—the signatories to the Memorandum of Associstion show the names of the Brinsmeads—I do not know if they are all members of the same family—I find again the name of Thomas Edward Brinsmead as that of the first signatory—the registered office of the second company is 94, Cannon Street, in the City—Stephenson "Wilson is given as the secretary—there are several agreements on the file; one dated August 8th, 1896, and the other August 14th, 1896, between J. H. Davis and the company, both of them—the subject matter of both agreements is the allotment of shares to Davis—no return of capital or share issue has been made or filed of the second company—3,000 ordinary and 2,000 deferred shares were allotted to Davis under this agreement—there are no more agreements on that file filed at Somerset House, except the copy of an order to wind up, dated December 3rd—it was an order of Mr. Justice Vaughan Williams—I do not know that that order was unsuccessfully appealed against—the file I have here is the file in relation to the registration of a limited company called the "Consolidated Contracts Company," dated December 30th, 1895—the object is to carry on the business of financial agents and company promoters, at 15, Queen-street, Cheapside—Mr. E. Allan Cleverton was secretary to the company—here is a summary of capital and shares made up to December 23rd, 1896, and I find that 692 £100 ordinary shares and fifteen founders' shares have been issued—James Wilson is the holder of all but seven shares, including the founders'—there is an agreement on the file between James Wilson and the Corporation dated March 23rd, 1896, which is signed on behalf of the Corporation by Mr. W. H. Kaye and Mr. H. Bernard, who are described in the agreement as directors of the limited company, and the same secretary, Mr. Cleverton, is a signatory to the agreement—the date on the register of the Institute of Investors is March 27th, 1897.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I have given you all the agreements with the company No. 1 and company No. 2 on the files, but there is no reference made to the articles—in regard to the first company there is nothing that shows the re sale under that company to the Brinsmeads.

Cross-examined by Jordan. You appear as having been the agent who registered both the Brinsmead companies—there is nothing on the files to show you had anything to do with the Consolidated Contracts Corporation or the Institute of Investors—I am acquainted with the difference between a company promoter and a company registration agent—I know you are a company's agent—I never knew you as a company promoter—you brought the papers, and I would not know whether you were promoter or a registration agent—I have nothing to do with that—there is nothing to show that you held those shares as a trustee.

HENRY ALLEN ASHTON . I live at Leytonstone, and am a journalist—I was the sub-editor of a newspaper called the Investor at one time—about two years ago I began my duties in that post—that would be about the spring of 1895, or a little earlier—it was an advertisement in the Telegraph

which called my attention to a vacancy, and in consequence I went to the office of Messrs. Latham and Company, at Arthur Street East, in the City—I saw there the defendant Kaye in the first instance, and after a subsequent interview he took me to see the defendant Bernard—my first interview was with Mr. Kaye, when he went over the particulars I gave him, and it remained unsatified until I saw Mr. Bernard in Cannon Street, but I could not quite remember the number—it was at the office of the Railway Municipal Building Company—I cannot quite remember the exact name of it—Mr. Kaye was there when I saw Mr. Bernard, and together they ratified the appointment—the offices of the Investor when I first took up my duties were at Arthur Street, at Lathom and Company's, and afterwards moved to 15, Little Trinity Lane—there the Investor continued to be published first of all from Lathom and Company's, and afterwards from Little Trinity Lane—it was a going paper when I was first appointed—I should say between fifty and sixty numbers had been issued—I think it was a monthly paper—when I got there the first number had No. 52 on it—it had always been going monthly—I was acting as sub-editor at the date of the issue of the paper of July 20th, 1896—this is a copy of the issue of that date (produced)—it contains a copy of a prospectus of Edward Thomas Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, together with an application form for shares at page 3 of the issue—on page 8 there is what purports to be an editorial article upon the company—I got the manuscript of that article from the printer, a Mr. Judd—it had been already printed when I saw it; I got the galley proof—I looked on Judd as the printer, but he got it printed by Wyman—the proofs were submitted for publication to the defendant Ainsworth—the articles or proofs were formerly taken for approval to him at the Cannon I Street office, and latterly to Queen Street, the office of the Consolidated Contracts Company—the proof of this particular article was submitted to Mr. Ainsworth by me, with all the other articles and the contents of the paper—I took it and submitted it to him in what we call page form, made up as it is now—in galley form it would be in long slips, as it first comes Out—there may have been one or two corrections made in the proof which I submitted to Mr. Ainsworth by Mr. Ainsworth; I could not be certain about it, I could not specify them—roughly speaking, I should say 200,000 copies of the Investor were issued on this date, July 20th, 1896—whenever a company was advertised that was about the number—between 150,000 and 200,000 copies of the newspaper would be printed—the average circulation when there was no such advertisement would be between 2,000 and 3,000—to my knowledge, the Consolidated Contracts Company brought out companies—the Investor was only used for the purpose of companies they brought out—the only advertisements of new companies when there were these large issues were for companies brought out by the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I remained in the service about eighteen months, I should think—during that time I was in the habit of seeing Mr. Ainsworth from time to time at Queen Street—I would go to him in relation to the publication of the paper—I was sub-editor—there was no editor—there was nobody above me—I took my instructions from Mr.

Ainsworth with regard to the conduct of the paper—I might have taken them from Mr. Bernard when Mr. Ainsworth was away, but from nobody else—I remember seeing Mr. Kaye during the time I was employed there, but in no particular relation—he would come to the office, but I should not go to him for any instructions—when he came to the office I presume he came on the work of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—he would not come to me; I should merely see him in my capacity in the office, when I was sub-editor, not in any editorial capacity; but he would be in the office while I was there—I do not know from whom the money was obtained for the payment of the expenses of the newspaper; I had nothing to do with that—I had some salary as sub-editor—my salary was paid to me by a Mrs. Davis, who was a manageress of the publishing department of the Investor—another department of the Investor besides the publishing was the sending out of circulars connected with any companies of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation that were advertised in the Investor—money was paid by cash, never by cheque—cheques came under my observation during the time I was there, for payment for advertisements to the Investor—I have seen one or two cheques signed in my presence by the defendant Kaye during the time of my service—I could not say for certain whether those were in relation to advertisements—I have had a cheque from Mr. Kaye signed in the name of Kaye—I have not had cheques from Mr. Kaye signed in any other name—I saw cheques of Lathom and Co, signed by Mr. Kaye—he signed "Lathom and Co." sometimes—Lathom and Co. was Mr. Kaye, I should think, I do not now; at all events he signed the name of Lathom and Co.—I do not know anybody else as Lathom and Co. except Kaye—the cheques signed in the name of Lathom and Co. by Mr. Kaye were given to me by Mr. Kaye for commission for advertisements I might have obtained for the Investor not in relation to the publication of advertisements—practically during the whole time I was there I had no monetary transactions with Mr. Bernard—I had business connection with the business of the Investor with Mr. Bernard with regard to obtaining advertisements for the paper—there was a canvasser employed for a short time to get advertisements, and he brought in none at all—I suggested to Mr. Bernard that I could obtain them in the stead of the canvasser, and I did so—Mr. Bernard acceded to that, and I did it—that brought me into business relations with him, because a certain sum was to be paid to me by Mr. Kaye for obtaining those advertisements—the arrangement with Mr. Bernard and the payment arising out of that arrangement was made with Mr. Kaye—there was more than one payment—a cheque was given in the name of Lathom and Company by Kaye—that arrangement was during the latter part of the service—during the time I was in service I saw Mr. Ainsworth about twice or three times a month—Mr. Bernard about the same number of times—Mr. Kaye nearly every day, I suppose—I went to Mr. Ainsworth's office for the purpose of seeing him, and the same with regard to Mr. Bernard—that was another office, but on the same floor—there was general office between—I mean a general room between them, and each had his own private room inside—the Consolidated Contracts Corporation and the Consolidated Exploration and Finance Company was up

outside the offices—both those names were up—Kaye came to Little Trinity Street, and he would be there day after day—he was at the Consolidated Contracts Corporation carrying on business—I saw him there—he might have been clerk or manager—I do not know of any other business he did besides whatever office he held at the Consolidated Contracts Corporation in the supervision of the newspaper—I remained on in the service and conducted it on those lines for eighteen months, I left at the end of that time, just at the inauguration of these proceedings at the Mansion House—about the date of the first tune it was called on at the Mansion House—that would be August 4th, 1897.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I wrote one or two short articles for this paper each month—I knew a man named James Stephenson Wilson—I knew him as J. S. Wilson—he was in my service as publishing clerk, really—I went in the late spring of 1896—he came quite a year after—I engaged him—I cannot tell specifically the date of the engagement—his duties were to help load up the vans, take all the papers out to the vans, and count them, and tally the numbers off, and his salary was first 15s. and then £1 a week—he remained in that position for so long as I was there—I did not leave him in that position, he had gone—it was about a month before I resigned, I should think, roughly—about a month before I resigned he had gone—he went to Whybrow's, I believe—they are pickle-factors, I believe—I used to write articles sometimes, each month—I sent manuscripts of those articles to the printers and got the galley slips from them—as to this article that is in question, I do not know who wrote that; I could not be certain—the manuscript was typewritten—when the paper was made up each month I showed it to Mr. Ains worth, and he looked at it to see that there was nothing libellous in it, nothing improper to publish—that was my understanding of what he saw it for—so far at I know, he made no alteration in this article—he looked over it when it was in its completed form, and that was all.

Cross-examined by Jordan, I have not met you in connection with this Brinsmead matter, or the Investor matter—I have never met you at Lathom's office—so far as I know, you had nothing to do with the Investor newspaper—the first time I saw you was when I was put into the witness-box at the Mansion House.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. I never saw Mr. Brinsmead, the defendant; I do not know him now.

Re-examined. I suppose that the manuscript of this article would have been destroyed with all the manuscripts of each number—after I bad corrected the copy with the manuscript it was put into the waste-paper basket and would go away—it would be put by me into the waste-paper basket and destroyed in the ordinary course—I had this manuscript before me; I should have had all the manuscript to compare it—this article was type-written.

THOMAS JAMES PARKINSON . I am manager of the Argus Printing Company, whose place of business is in Tudor Street, in the City—Exhibit 41, that is the prospectus of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, consists first of all of letterpress, and secondly some pictures at the end of it—my firm printed the letterpress itself, not the

pictures—I received the orders to print that prospectus from the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—the order was given some time in July, 1896, about the second, I should think; the first order was given on the 2nd July, the final order about the 21st—the order of the 2nd July was to print the bulk of the copies, 190,000, or thereabouts—that was the final order—the first order was to set the things up in proof—the order as to the number of copies might have been the third order—the final order was to print so many copies of what I had set up in type—190,000 were printed—the first order as regards the proofs, I could not swear by whom it was given on behalf of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—Mr. H. Kaye gave the final order, by letter—the prospectuses that were printed were paid for by the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I delivered them to the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I sent them to their office—the pictures at the end of the prospectus were delivered to my firm, and were put up with the letterpress which I had printed before it left my place.

Cross-examined. The manuscript was put into proof and sent up to the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I got it back—I should say I have not got it; I always sent them back again with the final proof—I have not got the manuscript—I am sure I have neither of them; I am sure I have not the original manuscript—I cannot say whether the original manuscript was destroyed; I do not remember destroying it—I have not looked for it—I am only speaking as to the course of business—I always send back manuscripts with the proofs—that is the invariable rule—I never see it again as a rule—I cannot speak of the form the manuscript was in when I got it; I never saw it—it went to one of the printers—I cannot say whether it was the alteration of another document or an entirely original document; I never saw it—I have someone in my employ who saw it; I must have—I am sure that if I searched for it I could not find it.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. I do not know Mr. Brinsmead in any shape or form in reference to the preparation of this prospectus in any way.

FREDERICK EDGAR JUDD . I am a printer, of 6, Worship Street Finsbury—I am a director of the Metropolitan Printing Works, Limited, and in 1896 was printing the Investor newspaper, that is to say, I undertook the printing for the Investor newspaper, and as it was too large a job for our place, and as it is the custom of the trade, it was placed out—I placed it out with Messrs. Wyman, and supplied the paper for it—I engaged with Mr. Kaye, as Lathom and Co, to do the printing of the Investor—the printing was sent by my directions to Messrs. Wyman—everything came through me; there may have been isolated cases where it went direct, but then it would eventually go to the editor to pass the manuscript—I have seen Mr. Bernard in connection with the business of Lathom and Co., besides Mr. Kaye, in connection with payments and so on, in connection with the paper—Lathom was the name under which the paper was published—Lathom and Co. were the publishers of the Investor and the persons I saw as representing Lathom and Co. were, first Kaye, and then Bernard—the editor took the principal part in connection with the affairs of the Investor for Lathom and Co., I should

think—the editor was Mr. Ashton, I understood—the manuscript for the entire article that appears in the issue of July 20th of the Investor about Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Co., Limited, on page 8, came to me by post, to the best of my belief—it was typewritten—through Wyman I got that number of the Investor printed with the article and the prospectus—I would print it, and send it on to Ashton after it was printed—Ashton would see the manuscript we had set up in type at the printers, at Messrs. Wyman's—Ashton would not get it direct it would be set up in galley form; I should send that on to Ashton—the manuscript would not in all cases come back to me with the slip; in some cases it would, and then I should send it on; but it might be lost or not handed over, and he would ask for it "if he particularly wished it; if not, he would see the entire manuscript at the printers eventually when he passed it for press—about 150,000 to 200,000 copies of this number of the Investor were printed, to the best of my memory.

JOSEPH EDGAR , I am a builder, of 58, Wimpole Street, Cavendish, Square—my works are at Bartholomew Works, Bartholomew Road, Kentish Town—I carry on business on the ground floor there—in October of 1894 I let the first and second floors of my works at Bartholomew Road to Mr. Brinsmead under an agreement—it is Exhibit 62 on page 79—this is the agreement—(this was an agreement for three years expiring on December 25th, 1897, the rent being £224, or £13 15s. a quarter)—I remember the rent on June 25th, 1895, becoming due—it was not paid; I had to distrain—on June 24th, 1896, the quarter's rent then due was not paid—I had to distrain for that—I lived in the house adjoining those premises, and was there several times in the day—they had the first and second floors, and I had the ground floor—I was there two or three times a day—those first and second floors were of such moderate size that there could not be very much business done—it would not admit of any considerable business being done—the dimensions of the place were not large enough for any fair-sized business to be carried on—one room was 62 by 20, and the other was 20 by 20—the three lower pictures relate to these works in Bartholomew Road—in the picture described as warehouse and packing department, in the middle, in front is a lot of my timber—a stack of timber right at the edge of the picture belongs to the timber yard adjoining—the part in front belongs to me—those first and second floors were cleaned out about July 18th, 1896—from that time to July 18th those two floors remained empty—the people occupied them for a few weeks after; they brought in a little more timber, and they went in and out; I do not know what they did at that time—after the main removal some more timber was brought in—that state of things continued till something like the middle of August, when they cleared out entirely—I did not take possession then; the term had not expired—I did not distrain; there was nothing to distrain on—I did not get any rent since Michaelmas, 1896—I did not get any at Michaelmas, 1896—I distrained in, June—I got no rent at Michaelmas—there was nothing to distrain on at Michaelmas—I resumed possession about last Christmas—there is a power to re-enter for non-payment for rent—I did not enter until November, 1897.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWSON WALTON. Only when I saw the

advertisement in the paper did I know that a company was being promoted to take the premises—I did not apply to get my rent from the company—I did not re-enter, because I thought I could get my rent; I thought there was no necessity to do so—I expected to get my rent—I had no idea the scheme of forming him business on these premises would go through—I had nothing to do will) the company—I expected to get my rent from Thomas Edward Brinsmead—he had no permission from me to underlet to the company, and that was the reason I thought I could not get the rent from the company—I never applied to them—I trusted to get the money from Brinsmead, and I thought perhaps it was not proper to take possession till the time had expired—I did not think for a moment I would get it at all—the only advertisement I draw attention to is the middle one on the lower line; the other two both represent my premises—one represents the interior view of one room, and the other the interior view of another room—they are different views of the same room—the larger of the two rooms is 62 by 20—the only criticism I have to offer of the middle photograph is that the photographer has inserted in the line of view some portion of the fore-ground, and some portion to the left of the picture—in other respects it is truthful—the wood in front belonged to me, and the other to the next door neighbour—the wood was ordinarily standing there—the stock of timber at the side of the house usually stood in that position.

Cross-examined by MR. GILL. I never came into contact with Mr. Ainsworth, or with Mr. Bernard at all, and never made any communication to them at all about the matter.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. The business carried on at these premises in 1896 was not extensive, but inconvenience was occasioned—my relation with Mr. Brinsmead became strained and resulted in a Chancery action in the High Court for an injunction to prevent him carrying on business in the way he was doing—and the relief I sought was against Mr. Brinsmead for using a certain yard and cutting up timber, and other things in connection with the business—I sought to prevent him loading and unloading other things there.

Re-examined. No yard was included in the lease—he had no right to use it—the action related to that—my rent was only £13 15s. a quarter—I applied to Mr. T. E. Brinsmead for it—when I applied for it he said that he had not the money; that he could not pay it—he held out hopes of getting it, when he was paid for a piano that he had sold—my reason for not re-entering was that I did not know I had the power—I ought to have done so.

PERCY HUDDLESTONE . I am an auctioneer, and sell by auction electrical properties at 72, Finsbury Pavement—I know these premises in question at Ferdinand Street, Camden Town—up to June 24th, 1896, the premises were occupied by me on behalf of the Acme and Immisch Electrical Company which had gone into voluntary liquidation—I think about April, 1896, the order was made—on Juno 19th I held an auction sale of the furniture and effects belonging to Acme and Immisch—about a month before the sale I remember seeing one of the young Mr. Brinsmeads—that would be about May 16th—in consequence of my conversation with young Mr. Brinsmead I saw the defendant Jordan at

No. 116, Chancery Lane—as far as I know he was there conducting a business as company promoter, I understood—he had an office there—I could not say from memory if his name was up outside—young Mr. Brinsinead wrote to me, and asked me to call—when I called, he said he was turning Brinsmeads into a limited company, and he wished to take the factory, if possible, as a portion of their works—he said he wanted the lease for Brinsmeads—he did not say any particular Brinsmead—in consequence of my conversation I placed the matter before the liquidator of Acme and Immisch—I think I communicated the fact that the liquidator declined to Jordan, and I think it was communicated by the solicitor as well, but I would not be certain upon that point—I may have done it by a letter as well as by a visit—afterwards I was again approached by Mr. Jordan to see if I would accept some other lessee—he wrote to me, and be came to see me as well—himself and Mr. Alabone were the second suggested lessees—that was submitted in its turn to the liquidator, and they were accepted after awhile—the lease of the premises was assigned to them about June 24th, 1896—I don't know the exact date—I cannot say anything about that lease—I did not pass it over—this is the first time I have seen it—at the auction sale on June 16th, 1896, Jordan gave instructions for certain things to be purchased at certain prices two or three days before the sale—the things bought on that occasion under the order were a 10-horse power boiler, a 20-horse power engine, a dynamo, a band saw, Worthington pump, a meter, some shifting pulleys, electrical fittings to be used at the building for the purpose of lighting, and some office furniture—the total price which was paid for those articles, I think, was £337 13s., or something like that—the arrangement first of all with regard to payment was that they were to be paid for directly after the sale almost, or within a few days of the sale practically—that arrangement was not carried out—after the money had been owing for a little while we started pressing for the money, and in consideration of a certain amount being paid we let it stand over—it was paid first in an instalment of £25 on July 3rd—a man was kept in possession until the balance of the money was paid, and he was still in possession of those premises on August 5th—it was on August 7th, in the afternoon, that he left—the name of that man was Clark—on July 28th I made an arrangement for the sale of the articles—I gave notice of that arrangement to the defendant Jordan—I remember Jordan and Brinsmead coming to my office—Thomas Edward Brinsmead came then, and somebody else, I think—£175 was paid on that July 30th in notes—that left a balance of £137 13s., which was paid on August 7th in one sum, and by that cheque, dated August 6th, but it was paid on the 7th—I gave him a receipt for the balance—Jordan asked me to date it back to the last day of the preceding month, I believe—I declined. (The pictures were handed to the witness)—I see the top picture here on the left-hand side—there is shown there a board with the names of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons upon it in very large letters at the top—it never was put up while I had anything to do with the place—it is not a representation at all of the Ferdinand Street Works—I understood it was to represent the old Maiden Works in Kentish Town somewhere—I did not know

the old Maiden Works—at all events it was not at Acme and Immisch's—I did not see the words "Pianoforte Works" up on the actual building—I do not think I have been on the place since August 7th—I did not see the words "Pianoforte Works" appearing there as I left them—the right-hand picture purports to be a picture of the back of the works, where there is what is technically known as a "traveller" and some staging—with regard to that "traveller" and staging that was sold to a firm of engineers at Charlton—it was gone before July 1st—a large building that looks like a chapel or a large public hill belonged to another firm of pianoforte people—Chappell, I think, is the owner—the ground landlord of them—I cannot say if they were ever carried on as Chappell's Pianoforte" Works—the building we see under the staging and the "traveller" was the engine house—the picture represents the shed and the engine house—about the beginning of July there was some timber brought in—there was no business carried on there in the beginning of "July—after July 1st they were starting putting shelves up, and different things like that, I think, no pianoforte making—we had a man living on the premises; he held the keys—just at the finish they were doing some parts of pianos (two blocks were handed to the witness)—no building like that ever appeared with regard to the works—that block was on the premises, and was lent without permission to Mr. Jordan—it was parted with by somebody without our permission to represent the works as they were some time before—in that middle picture there was no chimney at all there when I had to do with it.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWSON WALTON. I suggest that the foundation of that block is a building that has no existence—it is a block in the possession of the Acme Immisch Electrical Company—three or four years before this block was made for advertisement purposes—whether for advertisement purposes or not that building has been concocted and then drawn—that was done originally by the Acme Immisch Electrical Company, or someone connected with it, and their name was across it on the band—their name was there, and I found it when I took possession as liquidator—I have never seen prints of it—I have never taken the trouble to compare the building in the middle with the one on the left—excluding the chimneys I have in the building on the left three erections on the roof—and in the building in the middle three on the roof—in the building on the left I have three storeys of rooms—in the building on the right three storeys, exactly the same number of windows—I was not present at the Police-court when Clark, the man who was left in possession, swore that these blocks had been in the possession of the Acme Immisch Works since 1888, and represented the back view of the building which is portrayed in the picture on the left—it is impossible for the buildings to have been like that—in regard to the building it might be made to represent the front view of this building, but as far as the ground and the trees and so on it is impossible—there is nothing in the building that is consistent with Mr. Clark's statement—to look at it the windows may be the same, but there was nothing in the front of the Acme Immisch Works like that—from the number of windows it is the same, but you get the back view in one and the front in the other—at one end of the building here another building comes out—

it is not shown—it is attached to the same—in this building there are only the things on the top and the windows—the top is alike, and the sides are alike—it differs, because the building at the present time (and was then here) has got an end to it—I knew these premises about two years—the Acme and Immisch have had it about two years—they may have been in existence ten years—I only go by the people on the place who were supposed to have made that block—it is inconsistent, that block being a picture of the building ten years ago, and the building being altered since, because that company was not in possession then—I swear that that company had not got them in 1888—the Acme and Immisch had them about two years before the time of the sale—I do not suggest that those buildings are ten years old—I do not know what the condition of things was ten years ago, or what the condition of the block was ten years ago—the buildings never did exist—I saw the place before.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. I saw Mr. Jordan at the time of the assigning of the lease—Mr. Jordan said that Mr. Brinsmead wanted to take it—I did not know what Brinsmead he meant at that interview—I understood it was not John Brinsmead and Sons, and said I would require somebody other than the company to become my tenants, my assignees—I referred to the presence, at one of the interviews, of Mr. Brinsmead's son, or one of his sons—Mr. Brinsmead, the defendant, was no party to the negotiations which culminated in the assignment of that lease—he might have been at the solicitor's—negotiations for the assigning of that lease were conducted with Jordan, and someone other than the defendant Brinemead—as to the payment for the engine and the goods sold, beyond being present Brinsmead took no part in that—Jordan was the gentleman who contracted and paid—on one occasion Brinsmead was present—I understood that they could not pay me the money till they had had a board meeting, and therefore they came to my office when they had held a board meeting to pay the money—Jordan told me—the cheques received were cheques drawn by Jordan—and the bank notes were handed to me by Jordan—I really could not say who they were handed to me by in the office—he was present anyhow—he was the gentleman who contracted with me, and had to pay—Mr. Brinsmead was never my tenant in any way at all.

Cross-examined by Jordan. A month or five weeks before the sale at Ferdinand Street one of the young Brinsmeads, the son of the defendant Brinsmead, applied to me for a lease of the premises—you did not say you were promoting a company, and wished to take the lease of the Ferdinand Street premises in conjunction with Mr. Brinsmead, or that you were turning the business of Brinsmead into a limited company; you did not say whether it was "John" or "Thomas Edward Brinsmead. "I first spoke to you considerably earlier than your letter pf May 30th, 1896—I have a letter here, May 20th, and there are letters earlier than that—the first time you spoke about it the, word "Brinsmead" was simply spoken of, not as "Thomas Edward," or anything—I have no other letter, whether it was mentioned as Thomas Edward or what—the first date we met was either May 17th or 18th—I had one other cheque for £25 from you besides those referred to already—I have one for £125

for services rendered in getting the lease—professional services—your total payments to me are over £500; somewhere about that—you have the exact amounts—there is £125 cash—that makes a total of £503 12s. 6d.—the block was supplied to you or to your man without my permission—it was in the possession of the works—if there is any misapprehension about that block, I cannot say; it was due to my predecessor rather than myself.

Wednesday, May 4 th, 1898.

PERCY HUDDLESTONE (recalled by the SOLICITORGENERAL). I see here a copy of an engraving representing premises at Ferdinand Street—it represents a yard in front—there is no such yard there—there is a tramway line shown—there is no such tramway line nor any chimney—that block was on the premises when I came there—I cannot say by whom it was prepared—I received a letter from the defendant Jordan on June 15th, 1896. (Read: "I hereby agree that immediately the company I am floating, and which is to be registered under the name of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, goes to allotment, I, as promoter, will see that you are paid such sums not exceeding £300 for the engine, boiler, dynamo, and other machinery as are comprised in lots number 3, 6, 18, 39 to 43, 46, 47, 49, 51, 52, 56, 137, 138,139, 141, 142, 143, 148, 150, 109, 171, 172, 173, in the catalogue annexed hereto as and at the price they are knocked down to me. I also agree that, should we not succeed in obtaining an assignment of the lease of the premises, or should the before mentioned company not go to allotment within one month of this date, that you are hereby empowered to sell the above mentioned lots, and should they not produce a sum sufficient to cover the amount and expenses to pay you the difference.—Yours faithfully, FRANCIS RICHARD JORDAN.")

JULIAN F. C. BENNETT . I am a solicitor—in 1896 I was acting as clerk to Messrs. Ward, Perks, and McKay, of 85, Gracechurch Street—our firm prepared a lease of the premises in Ferdinand Street to Jordan and Alabone—I produce the counterpart lease signed by Jordan and Alabone—it is for a term, I think, of 13 1/4 years, rent £224 per annum, dated June 30th, 1896—there was no premium paid.

THOMAS JAMES PARKINSON (recalled.) I referred yesterday to a letter or letters received from Mr. Kaye—these are the two letters—(produced)—they are upon a printed heading of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation, Limited, and dated July 17th and 21st, 1896

By SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I have been manager of the Argus Printing Company nine years—I have had business relations with the Contract Corporation four years—I have known that company as a company promoting business—it has employed the Argus Printing Company for the purpose of printing several prospectuses and documents of that kind for other companies, running to about £5,000—they have paid us £5,000 for printing in the last four years—so far as I could see or know the business was a perfectly genuine one—our accounts were business accounts sent in and very promptly paid—the issuing of this prospectus and the papers connected with it was in the ordinary course of our business,

and, so far as I could judge, of theirs—I knew Mr. Kaye as representing the Contract Corporation—nobody else—once, I believe, I saw Mr. Bernard; only once—substantially, Mr. Kaye was the business representative.

Re-examined. I acted merely as printer—of the business I knew nothing whatever.

WILLIAM LINDSAY . I am a member of the firm of Lindsay and Co., printers, 19 1/2, Cursitor Street—this prospectus of the first company, Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, was printed by my firm—I think the date is on it—April 9th, 1896—it was in the early part of 1896—we were employed to print that by Mr. Jordan, the defendant—we printed that in the ordinary coarse—it is headed, "Private and confidential Not for circulation. Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons"—on July 17th, 1896, we had a further order from Jordan—that was for 182,500 views—this order was given personally—on July 22nd, 1896, we had another order from Jordan, for 11,000 of the same views—we printed all these views and delivered them at the Argua Printing Company in Tudor Street on July 22nd or 23rd—they were printed from electro—this is the block—these are two of the same—we have only really got one here—that is the original—that would be the one supplied to me—the other has got that name in, but it is a view of the same place—Jordan supplied that block to us—he gave me no instructions as to what I was to do with that place where the blank is in the block—that place was already filled in with type—with "Pianoforte Works"—the Consolidated Contract Corporation paid me for printing these views, by a cheque for £157 15s., paid on July 23rd.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I did not see with regard to this matter any of the defendants except Mr. Jordan—it was he who gave me the order for the first prospectus, and brought the blocks and so on for the views—I did not hear anything about the Contract Corporation till after, and then I was told that the Contract Corporation, having taken the matter up, were paying the expenses—Jordan did not bring a cheque from the Contract Corporation—we sent to the Contract Corporation for it—Mr. Jordan told me to send the bill into them—that is all they had to do with it as far as I know.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I knew nothing about Ainsworth and Bernard—the order was on behalf of the Consolidated Contract Corporation—he did not tell me that when he first came—there were several proofs before that when the order was given—when the order was given for the large number you told me that—it was given on their behalf, and not on yours—I would not take so big an order from you—I accepted these two orders as coining from the Contract Corporation—I invoiced the work to the Corporation, and they paid me.

RICHARD CLARKE . I live at 6, Buck Street, High Street, Camden Town—in 1896 I was a timekeeper and caretaker—in May, 1896, I was in possession of these Ferdinand Street premises, and a long time before that—I was employed for that purpose by Mr. Huddlestone at that time and until August 7th—I remained actually on the premises until the 15th, but I left his employ on the 15th—I moved out of the premises on August 15th—I was Mr. Huddlestone's man in possession until the 7th, but I actually moved

out on the 15th—there was me for Mr. Huddlestone, but for the Brinsmead Company there were four men on the premises—Mr. Jordan employed them—I often saw Mr. Jordan there; every day generally—I did not hear him give any directions at that time—four men were putting down some benches and putting up some partitions, and two of them were shifting a dynamo and an engine—for some time they were doing that—I remember about the middle of July something being moved into the Ferdinand Street premises—it was some timber and some rough backs of pianos—no pianos came from the old works—four pianos came in from the Agricultural Hall at the close of the exhibition—about the middle of July some twelve men came in from the Bartholomew Works, making altogether sixteen men on these premises—I heard Jordan speak to a man named Green, on the day after the August Bank Holiday—I do not know the date—he was acting foreman, I believe—these twelve men were not working actually that I could see—they were shifting the timber about, that was all—I heard Jordan say to Green he had to make an affidavit that he had sixty men employed on the works, and that he (Green) had to have the men in—he did not tell Green what sort of men he was to get—about fifty men were fetched in—Jordan was there and he engaged the men, and they said, "We have no tools"—he said, "All you want is a saw and a hammer"; I believe it was—I am not quite certain because it is nine months ago, but I believe it was a saw and a hammer—I believe Green said, "I have nothing for the men to do if I get them in—Jordan said, "Let them do anything they like—let them pull some packing cases to pieces or do anything as long as they are on the place"—these fifty men consisted of two or three pianoforte makers, some carpenters and joiners, and some of the men had done no work before for years as I know—one of them had been a potman, and one of them had been a milkman—I used to see him serving milk—the majority of them were not sober by a long way—most of them did nothing all the time they were there, and the others were pulling packing cases to pieces, and some sawing wood up and planning it—some of them were digging up the yard—I said, "What are you doing there?"—they said, "We are digging the yard up to see if we can find some sand to make concrete of"—I laughed at the idea, because we had been down in the yard 12 feet and we never saw any sand—they were there several days—their hours were six to five—they were there when I left—I believe they left a week afterwards—during the day while they were there they worked a regular number of hours while I was there—I left on the 15th, but after the 7th I was not there in the day time much—they were still working on the 7th—while I was there I did not see any one piano made there, and with the exception of the four pianos that came from the Agricultural Hall I did not see any other pianos on these premises—I said that there was a certain amount of timber there—it was short pieces about 4 ft. long or 5 ft.; some might have been 5 ft. 6 in. or 6 ft., and some pieces of quartering 3 ft. by 3 ft., or 4 ft. by 4 ft., or something like that—it was most all white wood that they had—no hard wood—I did not see any wiring for pianos on the premises at all—I did not see any ivory for pianos on the premises—I have bought a lot of timber in ray time in twenty or twenty-two years—I put the value at the outside as £150, that is leaving out the

pianos—I have had this block in my charge for eight years—it was made in the year 188 8 to the best of my recollection, and it was then placed in my charge—I have worked for the Acme Works for ten years, and I was in charge there—I see the tram lines on this block—at one time, until about March, 1896, there was one pair of tram lines went into the back yard—none after March—there never was a yard in 1896 like the one shown there—there never were any arc lights after March, 1896—I said this block was taken in 1888—the state of things was never like that—that chimney belongs to a builder in Chalk Farm road of the name of Steed—that would be about six yards from the front entrance of the premises in the same position as shown there—it is in the middle of the building—it is rightly shown there—while I was there those words "Pianoforte Works" were not on these premises, and never have been—they were in the front part of the building leading into Ferdinand Street—they were put up just before I left—the end of July, I believe—"Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons" never was put up there, and is not there now in that place—it was put on the other side of the building altogether, and at the end—not where it is represented here—I remember Jordan coming with Mr. Brinsmead often—I know Mr. Brinsmead, the defendant, by sight—he was there every day—all day long—I remember them coming one day with a photographer about eight o'clock in the morning, my breakfast time, and my breakfast was ready and I wanted it, and I thought if I gave them this block I should get rid of them—I thought they would take the block instead of taking a photograph—they took photographs on that day as well—I believe it was the end of June—it was before any men came there or before they had actually taken the premises, I believe, to the best of my recollection—Mr. Brinsmead was photographed—I believe you will see him there—if you had one taken off the block I believe you could see him and Mr. Jordan too with their coats off—he appears in this picture with "Thomas Edward Brinsmead"—I think you will find him standing at the door—there are three people standing there near the door with their coats off—they are the two in the doorway—the third is a man named Landle, who worked for Huddlestone—at the time they were taken there was no board with "Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons" on the left-hand picture—there was not one on the other side at that time—the Acme Works was up then—the board on the other side was "Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited"—it was put up in July—the picture on the left-hand side has "Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons," and that is what I meant by saying there was never such a board and there is not now—at the time this photograph was taken the words "Pianoforte Works" were not on a board of that kind in the middle picture—the board was put up with "Ferdinand Street Pianoforte Works" on the front side of the building at the end of July when the name was put up.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I never saw any of the defendants there, except Mr. Brinsmead and Mr. Jordan, to my recollection—I had been eight years there; but I had been in the service of the firm for ten years—I was in the service of the Acme Electric Works first, and then the Acme and Brush Amalgamated—it was the Acme business that was going on the first five of the eight years—I do

not know what business was going on there in the time this block was prepared—I was not there—the Acme Works were just moving into it from Tabernacle Street in the City—a business that had been established elsewhere was moving into these large premises—that block was prepared simply for advertising—it was a private firm, and they got it up for advertising—I believe a photograph was taken by a man of the name of Arthur C. Cockburn, and this block was prepared by somebody—I do not know by whom—Chappell, the pianoforte people, built this place themselves, for pianoforte making I have been given to understand—they did not occupy it, but it was occupied by the electric people—the building represented in the centre picture was there—if you photographed that building you could not help photographing the chimney at the back—from where the photograph was taken you could not—the chimney was there and it must get itself photographed—there never were these arc lights at all—there never were two tram lines—the incorrectness of the view so far as that is concerned is found in the block made by the Acme people ten years ago—nothing was then put up, in fact, along the front of the building where now appears on this block the words "Pianoforte Works"—there never was—there was no board up at all—on the front of the building, the left part, there was "The Acme and Immisch Electric Works, Limited"—they both show the back—we have not a front view here at all of the windows—the picture at the right hand and the picture in the middle both show the same side of the building—the boards put up of the Acme Company are where you see it hanging over now—on the left-hand corner, where you see the board hanging over on to the roof looking over the Chalk Farm Road on to the railway; on the front, that was the board of the Acme and Immisch Electric Works, Limited—that was not the only board they had up—they had one in the front of the building, on the other side altogether—those boards were taken down before August, in the middle of July, and those others were put up in July—I saw there White, I think it was, repainting those boards—they were put up in the same position as they were before, but they put some extra boards with "Ferdinand Street Pianoforte Works" on them—one extra board was put up on the same level, on the front, not on the same side shown here—in July the place was not full of the material and stuff belonging to the Acme Company; it had all gone away—there were a few things which required removal—the four men set to work to remove only the benches—they shifted the dynamo out from where it was into the yard—they also shifted the engine—that was the first four men who came in who were doing that work—in the middle of July twelve more men and boys came—from the Bartholomew works, so far as I understood—that is to say, pianoforte makers, and then some timber and quartering came in—between the middle of July and the beginning of August men were at work concreting the engine-room floor; we moved our engine out of there in, I believe, the end of June or the beginning of July; I will not be quite right about it—the floor where the engine had been was concreted—that was done directly we moved the engine—it was in the nature of repairing the floor of the engine house—I was in and out the premises until August 15th—I was not there much in the day time, but I lived on the premises—these men came in on the Tuesday

day after Bank Holiday—some were pianoforte makers—I should say not Half-a-dozen; some were carpenters and joiners—I might have said, "Some were cabinet-makers"—there might have been one or two cabinetmaker—I knew a lot that came in—not more than two or three were cabinemakers, and about a dozen carpenters—there were plenty of laboures—we had gone down twelve feet in that yard and found no sand—we had not dug down for sand—we had been digging down to put an uprights in for a seven ton ten crane which we had—this £150 worth of timber was brought in the middle of July—certain parts of pianos were brought in, back boards I said—about sixteen iron frames of pianos came in from the north of England by the Midland Railway, before the end of July—a few keyboards of piapos were brought in from Bartholomew Works when they brought the timber; not more than about twenty—there was not wood there for the making of all the other parts of the instruments—there were only these pieces of short wood—there was nothing to make pianoforte legs—there was no veneer there, and no materials for completing the pianos at that time—I do not believe they could have made a complete piano at that time.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I recollect on one of your earlier visits to Ferdinand Street premises, your bringing some gentlemen; I could not say who they were—I do not know if one of them gave me a gratuity; he might have done—I cannot say definitely whether it was these gentlemen—I will not say definitely whether it was Mr. Ainsworth or Mr. Barnard, or both, or either—Green was the chief man, he was the only carpenter—I stated that I heard you say to Green that you had to make an affidavit to the effect that sixty men were employed there—I do not know that such an affidavit was never required of you—I do not know that Mr. Briusmeads made an affidavit to that effect—is it not possible that one of the Brinsmeads made that statement, and that it was your speaking about it to Mr. Green, or repeating it to Mr. Green, that I over heard—I see you engage nearly every man that came there, you and young Mr. Brinsmead—I do not know if you understand the pianoforte business—a lot of men were not sober, and I drew your attention to it—I was always sober, I did not spend the greater portion of my time at the public-house at the corner of the street—I was all day long about the premises—my duty was to look after the premises, and hold the keys, and lock them up at night and open them in the morning—I did go to the upper floors very often—I went to see what was going on twice a day sometimes—I went to see if everything was all right—I was looking after Mr. Huddlestone's property—he had some, benches which we, took down, and there was some glycerin and some nitric acid on the top floor that Mr. Huddles tone had—I saw some men pulling packing cases to pieces and knocking nails out—they might have bean for parts of pianos, but they were only pulling the packing cases to pieces—I received a wire on the Friday morning from Mr. Huddlestone, I do not know if it was the 6th or the 7th; I would not say for dates, to withdraw, and hand over the keys—you would not take the keys; I offered them to you on Mr. Huddlestone's telegram, and you refused to take them—Mr. Brinsmead refused to take them at that time that was a just nine o'clock in the morning—they were handed over to you at half-past six in the, evening;

Mr. Huddlestone's clerk came down on the Friday evening—I was in the premises up to the 15th, the Saturday afternoon—I did not go in the main building after the 7th; you had the keys—I was on the premises, but I did not go into the main building after the 7th.

ALBERT WELLESLEY WOOLSTON . I am a pianoforte hand—bellyman and marking off on the sounding board is my particular part of the work—somewhere about Bank Holiday of August, 1896, I went to the Ferdinand Street premises—to work—Mr. Edward Brinsmead and Mr. Jordan engaged me; there were one or two of them when I went after the job—my brother was working round there, and he came round and told me, and I went and saw Mr. Edward Brinsmead—he thought there was a job there, and I went there—it was not the defendant Brinsmead in the box here; his son, I think—I was engaged on day work at first—I remained there on day work about a fortnight or three weeks, and then I was put on piece work—I finished August out there; about a month—I left because I was kept waiting for work—I could not got work to do—I earned 10s. 6d. a week on piece work—the week I gave up I only earned 10s. 6d., and then I thought it not good enough and came away—I did not see any piano sent out from the place while I was there—there were no proper materials for making and completing a piano—about 40 hands were at work there when I first went—they remained about a week after I was there, then about half of them were discharged—some of them were labourers, and some carpenters—there were several piano hands there, but not doing piano work—I remember seeing Jordan there pretty often—he used to be there to pay us on a Saturday up to the time I left—I saw him there on several other occasions each week besides paying days—I saw him at the Mansion House after this case had been started—after I had been subpœed as a witness I saw him to speak to—about a week before we went to the Mansion House I saw him round at my premises—he came round with Mr. Brinsmead's son and Mr. Heybell—he offered to give us £5 if we would say we were brought into the case, and did not know what we were saying at the time we swore our affidavits—we had sworn one—by "us" I mean me and Mr. Heybell—the affidavit I swore for the Chancery proceedings—I did not say anything to him—he was going to wire to us the next day and send us all the particulars, but we never received the wire nor the £5.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I am not aware that I said before the Magistrate that there were thirty of the hands at piano work, preparing and getting the things ready for piano work—I do not; believe I said it—when I first went there I fixed my bench up—I fixed a lot of benches for the purpose of making pianos—I have had experience as a piano-maker since I was about thirteen or fourteen years of age—I am a regular piano hand and my brother was, too—he was working for Mr. Hughes at Finsbury Park, and he heard of this job and told me—he went in the holiday week for a few days to oblige them—my brother was regularly working at Hughes, but he came to this place in the holiday week for a few days to oblige the Brinsmeads, or whoever it was—he is an experienced man—after the benches and presses were put up I went to my regular work, which was putting sounding boards up—I had bridges and bars to put up on the sounding boards—I did that—and had

proper material there for putting the sounding boards in that one particular case—that is all I did while I was there—all the rest was preparing the plant for a pianoforte manufactory, getting the benches in working order, and getting the press boards ready—that I did by day work, and for piece work I could not get the material in, so I gave it up.

Cross-examined by MR. NORMAN CRAIG. I saw a man standing outside the premises with financial papers on a Saturday when we came out—he did not do anything to deter me from accepting employment by the Company that I am aware of, I went straight home and never listened to him—I saw him speak to one or two that stopped, but I did not stop myself—I could not say if it was some one from the Rialto paper—they were selling a paper with a placard in front of it, but I did not see what it was, I did not look at it—I did not hear him say to the men that they would not be paid their wages—I am not aware that Mr. Brinsmead complained to the police, and had a constable there in order to avoid that nuisance—I never saw one there—I saw the defendant Brinstraeed there.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I was engaged as a pianoforte hand by two or three at the same time—two or three people standing together engaged me—I cannot say who the hands were employed by, they were carpenters and labourers—they do not always reckon they are always on piano work if they are preparing for piano work—the carpenters were discharged about a week after they were engaged—I could not say what they had done—they had put the benches up—I do not say I saw you on the premises every day, I saw you two or three times a week, evening time chiefly, throughout the whole time I was there—I think you were looked upon by all of us as the employer—I cannot say if you was superintending the work of the carpenters or of the piano people, or both, or neither—all I know is you paid us—you handed the money through other hands to us in the office—it was from you—it came from your hands through Mr. Brinsmead's hands to us—a servant of Mr. John Brinsmead came round and asked me to go to Mr. Maskell if I could spare the time, and I went up—I thought it was Mr. Thomas first, but I knew before I went up, when I was going—I did not tell you I had been taken to Mr. Maskell's office under the belief that it was for Mr. Thomas Brinsmead—I was asked to make an affidavit stating what I had seen on the place—I stated it, and I afterwards signed it—I do not know who prepared the affidavit in Mr. Maskell's office—for a time I was employed repairing the plant—that is true—the material referred to was given to me for making parts of pianos—(Document handed to witness) that is my signature—I said, "I had to use old beams full of nails"—you came and offered me £5, and promised it me the next day—when I saw you on that evening you gave me your card, and also 1s. for my expenses to come up and see you if you wired to me—I am certain about that—you asked me where you should wire to the next day, and I gave you my employer's address, where I was.

Re-examined. I should not think there were more than fifteen or sixteen piano hands at Ferdinand Street, not competent men, I could not say exactly the number—I know the difference between what I call

a piano hand and a carpenter or cabinetmaker or labourer—when I was there, including carpenters and all, there were a little over forty, as near as I can tell you, when I first went there; not half of them would be piano men, the others were labourers or carpenters when I first went there—I made part of one piano—that piano was not finished when I came away—in the natural course, providing there were the proper parts for it, it would have been finished—the materials were not there to finish that I was aware of—there is a trade union in the piano workers' trade, but I never belonged to it.

ALEXANDER HEYBELL . I am doing a bit of work for myself now in the piano line—I have been before in the piano line—somewhere about the Bank Holiday, August, 1896, I went to work at Ferdinand Street—Mr. Jordan and Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead engaged me, the defendant here, and Mr. Sydney Brinsmead and Mr. Edward Brinsmead, the defendant's sons, were in there at the time—I was to do part making; falls and hollows, and veneers and part making, making parts of pianos, ends, tops, and cheeks: the case of the piano—I stayed there three weeks all but a few hours—I was engaged by day work all the time—I was told by the son the next day, on the Friday, that I should have to go—there was a reason given to me for my being discharged—at the time I was discharged there was not sufficient work for two part-makers to do—I left one part-maker behind—during the three weeks I was there no piano was completed or sent out of the premises as far as I know—I really could not say how many pianos were there, but I think there were two or three that I saw—I have had experience of the value of timber and pianos partly made—my judgment of the value of the whole stuff there, including the partly made pianos, is from £200 to £250, including everything—I saw no finished pianos there—I was subpœed to attend at the Mansion House as a witness in this case in the autumn of last year—I saw one of the defendants shortly before I gave evidence at the Mansion House, Mr. Jordan—that was about October 7th or 8th; I met him by accident—as I left a certain place, the Mansfield Hotel, he said "Good evening," no, I said "Good evening" to him in the first place, just as I passed him, the same as I would to anybody else—I knew him when I was at the Ferdinand Street works—he was there when I was engaged—he asked me if I was going to have a drink—I said "Yes"—we went to the King Harold public-house in Ellesmere Road—he asked me if I could take him down to see Woolston; that is the witness—I told him he lived at 13, Graf ton Crescent, as he did at that time—he said he did not know where it was, and I went down and called Woolston out—he did not say what he wanted to see him for; but he asked me to say that there were thirty or forty piano men working there at the time, and if I said that in my evidence he would give me £5—he said to Woolston just about the words that he said to me, and I told Woolston not to take any notice of it—he bought some cigarettes and gave me some—he said to me "You don't want to see me put away, do you, old boy?"—I said "No, I do not want to see anybody put away at all, what I have done is only the truth, and what I have said is only the truth, and there is nothing to be frightened of"—then He asked me to say that there were thirty or forty piano makers there when I left—I said All right, I would

not say any more than I had paid—I said in my evidence there were from twenty to twenty-five, and there were no more—I have made an affidavit in some proceedings that were going on.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I did not see Mr. Ainsworth or Mr. Bernard at all—I went to this place for a job—there was an advertisement up outside the place, a notice, "Hands wanted," and seeing that up, and that it was a piano-makers' affair, I went in—I have had experience in piano making—I went there on the Monday after the Bank Holiday in August—that was a week after the Bank Holiday—when I first went there were only about fifteen piano hands there I think—I do not know that there were that; it might have been only fourteen—during the three weeks that I was there the number was increased, so that when I left there were about twenty to twenty-five people engaged in piano work—I did not see the finished pianos In this place, I do not know where they could have been—there was some veneer on the premises because I laid it myself—there was enough for ends and tops, but not enough for falls and hollows or large parts—there was enough to finish twenty pianos—ends of veneer means the ends of the pianos—I do not know that there was enough to do completely some pianos.

Cross-examined by Jordan. You were there when I was engaged—you said, "Come in," and Mr. Edward Brinsrnead arranged the price—you were always the principal man there, you know that as well as I do—my terms were entered in a book—you entered it, I think—I am not quite sure, but I think you did—during the three weeks I was there I should say I saw you a dozen times at the works—I do not know who else you engaged—I looked after myself; I was engaged, I know that—Mr. Edward Brinsmead told me to start on some ends, and I started on them; twenty-four pairs of ends—you were the principal man there—what you said was always done—you gave an order at the time we put up the stove to heat our tools—you said there would be gas laid on, and we should have plates to warm our tools with—I do not know that you were putting the works into proper condition for a pianoforte practice—I am doing a few odd jobs for myself now—I was in the last engagement about a week—between these two engagements I was doing a few odd jobs at home; I can always get plenty of work like that—I have been in two or three separate employments since I was engaged at the Brinsmeads' factory—if the place does not suit me I do not stop there—I was three years at Mr. Paine's, I left there to go to Mr. Brinsmead's—lately I have been going about doing one job and another—when you left me on October 11th, I told you that on or about September 4th I was taken to Mr. Maskell's office—I could not tell you who took me there, I do not know him—he came to me and asked me if I would go and see Mr. Maskell, and I said, "Yes"—I did not know I was going there until we turned round into the street—the person asked me to go and see Mr. Thomas Brinsmead—I thought I was going to see him—I thought I was to see my employer, and it turned out to be some other Brinsmead—I was taken to this office to make an affidavit—I do not know who prepared that affidavit—it was read over to me at the time—I thoroughly understood it—I suggested to the person at the time that an alteration should be made about the two hot-water fitters, and I went to Mr. Hall

and Mr. Thomas Brinsmead's, and also to Mr. Maskell's office, and I told them the following day about the two hot-water fitters who had been paid for, when I swore in the affidavit that they were not—that was a mistake—that was the only thing I wanted to correct—I do not know if those alterations were made in the affidavit—it was a month ago since I first told the Treasury Solicitor about this interview, when Mr. Jordan offered me the, £5—Mr. Williamson could find out the date—nobody came and asked me to make it—I went down to the Treasury and told them about it—I went to the Treasury because I thought it was right and proper that they should know about it—I went on my own account to the Treasury—nobody induced me to go there—I got nothing for making the statement and nothing ha? been promised me—I think you said to me on the evening in question, "It does look as if certain parties in the defence may get into serious trouble, but I should think it very unlikely that any of them would be sent to prison," also that you trusted such would not be the case with old Mr. Brinsmead or yourself, and that I did not want to see my old employer, Mr. Brinsmead, in that position—you said to me that it rested a good deal with me whether you were put away or not—I said that what I said could not do you any harm—I have never used that expression "put away" before, I don't know what it means, but I could give a good guess—I do not know that gentlemen in your station of life are in the habit of using such slang thieves' terms, that is best known to yourself—I know the witness Woolston well—I saw him to-day and yesterday—I have seen him frequently lately—I have met him several times since our conversation of October 11th, 1897—you know as well as I do that you said it, you know you did—I did not give you the questions I was prepared to answer the following day, but you were asking me—I cannot imagine why you should say you would make it worth my while, and give me £5, when I said that if I told the truth it would not affect you, but you did say it—I did not call upon you on the 5th, as you said I was to, do you think I was going to get myself into trouble for you?—you insisted on giving us the shilling—I was not out of work; I met you in a dirty state coming from work—I did not tell you I was out of employment; it would have been a lie; you saw the paint on my hands.

Re-examined by MR. HORACE AVORY. I gave evidence at the Mansion House on the following Wednesday, it was the 7th or 8th, and I gave the evidence on the 11th or 12th—it might be as far back as January 8th in this year that I went to the Treasury and made the statement as to this interview with Jordan.

WILLIAM JAMES WHITE . I am a sign-writer, of King's Road, Camden Town—in July, 1896, I was employed to write three sign-boards by the defendant, Thomas Edward Brinsmead—I painted upon them "Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited," all three the same—as far as I know they were fixed on the premises at Ferdinand Street—I saw them afterwards, fixed—I started the boards about the beginning of July, 1896, and they were finished about the middle of July—this is the receipt (produced) that I gave for the money that was paid to me—I made that account—it is made out to the Company, Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited—it was paid by cash by Mr. Francis Richard Jordan, the defendant here—I think I said it was paid by cash, it would be by

cheque; Mr. Jordan's cheque—on July 29th—I did this work on the promises at Ferdinand Street—while I was there I did not see any sign of a pianoforte business going on—I was there about a fortnight.

Cross-examined by Jordan. When you visited the works I do not remember you asking me to do some signboards for you at your premises in Chancery Lane—I saw you on the works once—I did a little job on the side entrance at Chancery Lane for you on the second floor—Mr. Brinsmead told me to come to you, that you had the money, and would settle with me—eventually you paid me.

THOMAS ABSOLOM CAREW JACKSON . I am a commission agent, of 38, Windsor Terrace, City Road—in May, 1896, the defendant Jordan came to me—he brought me a prospectus of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited (Produced and read)—I know nothing of these alterations in the manuscript, I am not certain if they were in it when I saw it—I have been asked before, and I thought, perhaps, these alteration were made in my office in this particular copy—they may have been made by Jordan, or they may have been made on Jordan's dictation by one of my clerks for my information—they were not there when it came to me—I do not remember anything of that—I saw that prospectus last November twelvemonth at the official Receiver's Office—that particular copy of it remained in my possession—I had more than one copy—I conversed with Jordan with reference to the company as set forth in that prospectus—he told me that the Brinsmeads were relatives of John Brinsmead, or of that particular family, that they were practical piano manufacturers, or practical piano workmen, and that they wanted capital in order to engage in a profitable business—he did not tell me anything as to whether any profits could be shown in the business they had carried on up to that time—I understood it had been carried on without profits owing to the lack of capital, he told me that—I considered the matter, and found it was too speculative for my friends—I asked some friends, and introduced Jordan to the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I called on the Consolidated Contracts Corporation first and saw Mr. Harrison Ains worth and Mr. Bernard, the defendants—I first of all saw Mr. Kaye, and then the other two defendants—that was at the office of the Contract Corporation, at Queen Street, Cheapside—I introduced a copy of the prospectus that you have just shown me—I said Jordan was the man who had the business, and that if they would agree to look into it and pay me a commission for the introduction I would leave the papers and put them into communication with Jordan—I told Ainsworth, Bernard, and Kaye all that Jordan had told me about the business—I told them there were no profits up to the present time—they were to give me ten per cent, upon the profit they made after making a deduction for the expenses—I left them one or two copies of the prospectus—I cannot say if the alterations in manuscript which have been referred to had been made at the time I left a copy of the prospectus with the defendants—my impression is it did not contain alterations—a clean proof without alteration it must have been which I left with them.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. The communication of this matter to Messrs. Ainsworth and Bernard was entirely our suggestion, no communication of any kind was made to them

until 28th May—it would be somewhere about that time—until that date they would know nothing about it—this matter practically came to them Crouch me—the Consolidated Contract, Corporation had the reputation of being speculative people—I believe, as a matter of fact, that Mr. Jordan was an absolute stranger to them—I passed this prospectus on to them in perfect good faith—I arranged for the commission upon the introducetion in the usual way—I saw nothing of the matter afterwards—the first I knew of it was seeing it in the papers—I had no communication with regard to any subsequent formation of the prospectus from Messrs. Ainsworth and Bernard—I heard from Jordan that the matter was going on—that was all I knew.

Cross-examined by MR. NORMAN CRAIG. I did not know the defendant Brinsmead at all.

Cross-examined by Jordan. When you introduced this matter to me, you impressed upon me that Thomas Edward Brinsmead and his two sons were only skilled, practical mechanics, formerly in the employ of John Brinsmead—I knew it was registered as a private company by those three gentlemen with a capital of £8,000—you told me Brinsineads had no money, and required money to manage their business, and that with proper management it would grow into a paying concern—I do not know that Mr. Jones had anything to do with the preparation of that prospectus—you explained to me the necessity of directing and bringing out the proposed company in such a way as not to lead anyone into the belief that it had any connection with John Brinsmead—I took the matter to Messrs Ains worth and Bernard in exactly the same manner as you brought it to me, and repeated and explained to them your statement to me—you said there was to be no statement as to be misleading—I did not repeat it; they knew quite well it was not—Messrs. Ainsworth and Bernard have not handed back to me the draft prospectus I handed to them—to the best of my belief the exhibit is similar to that I handed to them, except that the copy handed to them did not contain the pen and ink alterations—I know nothing about you having anything to do with the settlement, or printing, or issuing of the prospectus that eventually was issued—this is the particular copy that I produced to the Official Receiver.

Re-examined. At the end of this prospectus there is in leaded type this sentence:—"This company is in no way connected with any other company or firm carrying on business as pianoforte manufacturers under the name of Brinsmead or any other combination introducing such name"—that is the only prospectus I ever saw containing that paragraph, until I saw the new one in the papers—this handwriting is not mine—the words "Francis Richard Jordan," and two or three words on the next page, look to me like Jordan's writing—it is not that of any clerk of mine—that at the back seems the same handwriting—that looks like Jordan's, but I do not remember his writing them.

SIDNEY H. JARRETT . I am the manager of the Kentish Town branch of the London and South-Western Bank—on December 20th an account was opened with our branch by Thomas Brinsmead and Edward George Stanley Brinsmead—it was entered in our books originally as Thomas, but it was really Thomas Edward—they opened an account, trading as

Brinsmead and Sons, and continued in that form until January 31st, 1896—the account was a very small one—for the first six months of 1895 only £123 was paid in—twice in that year we made charges in consequence of the smallness of the account at the end of each quarter—there was nothing done in the first quarter apparently—the year commenced with £31 in hand—the account was closed on January 31st, 1896—it was overdrawn by 10s. at the end of 1895—a new one was opened by Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead, Edward George Stanley Brinsmead, and Sidney Walter Brinsmead, trading as Brinsmead and Sons—that was closed on December 7th, 1896, but it was not operated on after September 28th—on March 31st, 1896, 5s. 10d. was standing to the credit of the account—we charged 15s. 6d. for keeping the account at that date—on September 30th, 1896, we found there was a small balance of 10d., which was written off when it was closed in December—I think only Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead drew on both accounts—during the whole of this time, from 1892 down to September, 1896, the amount of balance would be very small, if there was one—I produce a copy of those two accounts, Exhibits 72 and 73—they are examined copies under the Bankers' Act—I have examined them with the books.

WILLIAM JAMES BAWLINGS . I am a clerk with Messrs. Brown, Jansen, and Co., bankers, of 32, Abchurch Lane—on July 23rd, 1896, an account was opened with us in the name of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited—I produce a correct examined copy of that account up to December 9th, 1896—I have examined that myself with the books—between July 23rd, 1896, and December 9th, 1896, the total amount paid into that account was £43,350—roughly speaking, quite £40,000 of that £42,000 would be represented by shareholders' money—I know that by the names against the credits "per sundries," and per certain names "per sundries "may represent a total of applications on that particular day, and then per names would represent single applications—on August 4th, 1896, I find a cheque was drawn on that account for £15,330 in favour of Mr. Davis, and signed by Bradford and Lomax, apparently endorsed by Mr. Davis—on August 8th, 1896, a cheque was drawn on that account for £20,003—the drawers of that cheque were Bradford and Lomax, and it was endorsed by Davis—both cheques purport to be signed by Stephenson Wilson as secretary—on October 24th, 1896, there were two payments in of £225—they were paid in to the credit of the names of Lomax and Ballantine: paid into the company, but to the credit of those two names, per Lomax and per Ballantine—I cannot tell who paid them into the bank to their credit with the company—they were paid in on their account, and as coming from them—on October 27th, 1896, I find a third cheque of £225 paid in, one on the 27th, and one on the,. 30th—I am speaking of credit—the third one was on the 23rd, in favour of Bradford—Bradford was credited with £225 on the 23rd, and Lomax and Ballanfcine £225 on the 24th—on October 27th one of those cheques for £225 was returned unpaid, and another for £28 was returned as unpaid—according to the note, I should say they were re-credited, but I cannot say for certain; without reference to the book, whether they were the same cheques—they appear to be the same cheques—on December

9th, 1896, £130 2s. 6d. was standing to the credit of the account—all the rest had gone—that was handed over to the Official Receiver—there were three directors who signed the instructions to the bank—Bradford, Ballantine, and Lomax, and the secretary, Stevenson Wilson; any two directors and the secretary could sign a cheque—this document is the press copy of the instructions to the bank—the original is in the possession of the bank, in the signature book, which I cannot produce—I cannot tell if all three were signed cheques, because the cheques are not now in the possession of the bank, and I do not recollect.

Cross-examined by MR. NORMAN CRAIG. Mr. Brinsmead was not a drawing director, he could not operate on the account.

ARTHUR JOHN JACOB . I am a clerk in the City Bank, Limited, Queen Victoria Street—the Consolidated Contracts Corporation had an account at our bank—I produce a correct certified copy of that account from July up to the end of October, 1896—on August 4th, 1896, a cheque for £15,330 was paid in to the credit of that account—(produced)—this bears our stamp, and appears to be the same cheque—on August 8th there was a payment in of £20,000—on October 21st a sum of £675, this is the cheque (produced,) I think, was drawn out of the account—I cannot say how it was drawn out and paid, it might have been paid through another bank—the persons authorised to draw on the Consolidated Contracts Corporation were Harrison Ainsworth, Bernard, Kaye, and Cleverton, the secretary—the secretary was changed on July 12th, 1897; T. B. Shepherd then became secretary—on July 3rd, 1896, there was a payment out of that account of £300—we paid it to the Union Bank—it was presented by them—on July 28th there was a further payment of £700 out of the account in cash and notes.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. From January, 1896, we had the account—I have here some notes of the weekly balances from the beginning, from January, 1896—beginning with January 7th, the bank balance was £1,804, and then for the successive weeks it goes on, £1,447, £1,715, £327, £6,552, £4,117, £16,810—that week is March 2nd—£5,436, £8,743, £17,533, £13,440, £12,235, £11,385, £10,752, £6,985, £17,625; that is May 11th; £17,625, £22,373, £8,064, £4,330, £3,094, £3,274, £37,156; this is June 29th; £16,783, £21,304, £13,001, £10,441, £23',000 on August 4th—I believe they worked large amounts—the weekly balances again £40,855—on August 10th that is—that would be fed by these accounts we have heard of—the next week is £40,633, £28,577, £33,274, £32,413, £32,269, £31,099, £30,561—that is the end of September; £28,280, £19,290, £18,855, £15,931,£13,941, £12,505, £49,660, that is the end of November; £27,083, £24,052, £6,229, £20,225, £4,360, £1,772, that is the end of the year; and then comes January, 1897, £2,229, £629, £5,558, £18,737, £30,690, that is February 1st—these very substantial balances were kept up for a couple of months, at all events to a very large amount, after those amounts had been received—I have no notes of any cheque payment—we only keep the number of cheques—we do not keep to whom they are paid—the passbook might have a name in it, but our own ledgers have only the numbers—we do not keep a copy of the passbook—there were large payments in and large payments out—I do not know if the £300

was a cheque for the deposit or the contract—I have no information about it.

Cross-examined by Jordan. You are not known in any way by our bank as having anything to do with the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—we paid a cheque on July 20th, 1896, for £130 5s.—I do not know how it was paid.

Re-examined by the SOLICITORGENERAL. I give you the balances down to February, 1897.

JOSEPH HENRY DAVIES . I am at present an agent and public-house broker—in July, 1896, I was employed at 28, Finsbury Circus as clerk to a public-house broker at £1 per week—I was then living at 15a, Great Sutton Street, Clerkenwell, in one room at 4s. a week—I was acquainted at that time with William Henry Kaye—about July 12th, 1896, I met him—he asked me would I like to earn £5 by signing some documents in connection with a company he had brought out—I said I would do so—he said I was to have the £5, but he would want two-fifths out of it—that would only leave me £3—that was his commission on getting me the £5—two days after that I received a letter from Mr. Kaye (produced and read)—"Consolidated Exploration and Finance Company, Limited, St. Atholin's House, 15, Queen Street, Cheapside, London, E. C., July 14th, 189—" to "Joseph Henry Davis, Esq., care of Bunbury and Co., 28, Finsbury Circus, E.G. Dear Sir,—Please call here tomorrow at one o'clock without fail, to arrange that matter.—Yours faithfully, W. H. KATE"—the year is blank—I then received this letter (produced)—" 15, Queen Street, London, B.C. July 15th, 1896. Dear Davis,—I left you a note last night asking you to be at the office at 15, Queen Street, at one o'clock. I have to attend the City of London Court at 10.30, but if I am not at Queen Street at one o'clock ask for Mr. Bernard, who knows about this, you can sign the documents as well. If you are in give bearer a reply if you are not in wire one.—Yours faithfully, W. H. KAYE"—I called at No. 15, Queen Street, on July 15th—I saw Kaye there, and I signed a paper in the presence of others—I could not identify them—it had something to do with a pianoforte business or a pianoforte manufactory—I had an hour from my office in Finsbury Circus—that was the hour when I got out to have my dinner or luncheon, from 1 to 2—I saw the name of Brinsmead on the documents—I think I got a sovereign on that day, to the best of my recollection, I could not swear to it—I went to the office again after that, and each time I went there I signed some document—William Henry Kaye produced the other documents to me—I did not see any of the other defendants on either of the occasions there—I never read any of the documents I signed—this is my signature at the bottom of these three documents (produced)—I did not know I was buying and selling a pianoforte business for £76,000, I had not anything to sell—I did not know I was taking premises in Ferdinand Street, and letting those to the company—each time I signed the documents I got a few shillings: 10s. onetime, 15s. another, 10s. another time—I got the £5 ultimately—Mr. Kaye waived the two-fifths, and said I could have it:—that was when he made the last payment to me—when I saw the name of Brinsmead on the first document I signed, I said to Mr. Kaye that it would be a good company seeing the name of Brinsmead—I did not know

whether it was John or Thomas, or what—I said that because I knew it was a good firm, by repute, that was all—he said yes, it would be all right—it is not true that I was so satisfied as to the expansion of the business with the additional capital, that I was prepared to guarantee a dividend of 8 per cent.—I never saw the prospectus, nor did I know anything about allotment or shares whatever—I was not in very good health on August 19th and Mr. Kaye thought a holiday would do me good—he wanted me to go to Scarborough—he knew I had been unwell for some time: I suffer from chronic bronchitis—I told him I could not afford to go, I had no means—he said he would find me £10 to go away where I liked for a week or two—I went on the same day that he gave me the £10—he suggested my hurrying off—he came and saw my little bits of furniture put into a van and taken away for storage—I stored it, because he said I might be a week or two, and he paid the rent that was due in advance because I had given no notice—he paid for the warehousing of my furniture—he went down with me—I did not leave my address behind when I went away, there was no necessity for it—I had no letters that I expected coming after me—a writ at the suit of Richardson had been served on me about a week before I went away—I took it up to the Contracts Corporation—I took it up to the company's office and gave it to Mr. Kaye—I went and asked him what I was being sued for—he said, "It will be all right," I was not to bother about it, they would see me all right, make it all right the company would—I went to Bournemouth—I went there because I had some friends there I knew very well—I told Mr. Kaye where I was going—I stayed from August 20th till December 10th or 16th—I was at Bournemouth for one month, and I wrote constantly to Kaye, no one else, to know what my movements were to be—he said I could go to Southampton if I wished to—the letters are here—I asked if I could go to certain places, and he acquiesced in my request—I stayed away in different places till December 15th—I was living all that time by receiving £3 per week every Thursday in Postal orders, signed by Mr. Kaye the letters were—these are the letters and telegrams (produced)—ultimately I wrote to him that I was tired of being away, and could not get any satisfactory answer from Kaye why I was kept away, and ultimately I came from Brighton up to their office in Queen Street a week or so before Christmas. (Read: from Kaye to the Witness.) "Dear Sir,—Your letter of the 30th ultimo reached me on my arrival from Brighton too late for me to answer it yesterday. I do not exactly under-stand your letter, but as my people are away it is impossible for me to put your proposal before them. I shall continue to send you £3 a week, and will remit you that amount to-morrow. This, I think, will do for you, and I may mention that should the matter turn out satisfactory you will not find that you have been forgotten"—that is September 31st, 1896—this is 12th September: "lam in receipt of your different letters, and should have answered them before now, but have been unable to do anything in the matter. I was under the impression when this affair was put in your way that I was doing you a good turn, but if you think the pay is not sufficient I cannot in any way increase it. As I already mentioned to you, if the matter turned out satisfactory, it will be a benefit for you; of course you can please yourself, but in your own

interest I think you will know which will be most beneficial to your interest. Send me the furniture (Nolan's) address, and I will call arid settle with him. I would have lent you the sum myself, but am short; therefore impossible for me to do what you require." "Dear Davis,—I received your several letters, but have been too busy to reply to them. There is nothing doing in London, and from what I can see you will have now a spell of fine weather. I do not suppose you will have to stay in the country much longer, but I cannot say to a few days. I shall remit you £3 as usual"—that is dated October 27th, 1896—October 31st: "Dear Sir,—I am in receipt of your favour of 29th inst. I cannot tell you definitely when you are to return, will let you know" as soon as possible"—the next is dated November 11th: "I enclose you postal order for £3 (three pounds), which please acknowledge. I cannot tell you definitely what date you will be able to return, but will let you know as soon as I can."—15th November: "I am in receipt of your favour, and regret to hear that your wife is so ill. I enclose you postal orders for £3, which please acknowledge. I may mention that the affair will terminate very shortly, so that I shall have the pleasure of renewing my acquaintance with you"—the next one is November 30th: "I cannot say what day you will be able to return, so do not trouble about giving notice; as soon as I know what date you will be able to return I will send you a wire"—December 16th: "I enclose you £3 as requested; I am sorry to hear that you are so uncomfortable in your apartments; I am unable to let you know what date you will return; you will do so as soon as possible"—there was a telegram—I think that is the last letter—in consequence of not getting anything more satisfactory, I came up of my own accord—Kaye sent me £1 to come back with—I was writing all this time myself—I was anxious to come back—this is not my signature on the back of this cheque; neither of them—I never, so far as I am aware, authorised any one to sign them—perhaps one of these documents might have been an authority—I did not get any of this money, the £20,000 or £15,300—I never saw the cheques till they were produced to the Official Receiver.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWSON WALTON. I bad known Mr. Kaye seven or eight years—I knew he was connected with the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I was a clerk at the time, and, of course, could read and write—I understand ordinary business, not extraordinary—I know what a public company is theoretically, not practically—I understand what turning a business into a company is—I understood it; was a promotion of a company, but what turning it into a company was I did not know—I supposed that the Consolidated Contracts Corporation were engaged in promoting a company—I had no idea that the Consolidated Contracts Corporation were buying a business, and were selling it to a company, nor did I know that forming it into a company means taking the business of the private firm, and selling it to the company—nor did I know that they were forming it into a company, nor do I know how else they would turn a business into a company—I presume that is the substance of it—I did not know enough of promoting a company to know that sometimes the promoters, instead of themselves appearing in the character of the purchaser of the private business or the vendor of the private

business to the company, employ some one else to act in that capacity—sometimes I suppose it is done—I did not know then, but I know now, that supposing there are half-a-dozen men who are acting as promoters, and who buy the private business, and then sell it to the company, instead of putting all their names into the contract as purchasers on the one side and as sellers on the other, put it into the name of another person—I did not know then that that was the capacity I occupied, but I know it now—I did not know about this purchase at that time, of using another person's name—I know now that that is the position I was in—I was not asked to fill any position, I was only asked to sign documents—I was filling a position, because I was signing legal documents, and being paid for doing so—I did not know that I was really representing the Consolidated Contracts Corporation, with which Mr. Kaye was connected—I supposed that it was going to be formed into a company, and I signed documents—I did not read them—I did not know what the object was—I should not have signed my name to £76,000 if I had known that I was incurring liability, because I was simply acting as the representtative of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I would not have signed my name to render myself liable to all this trouble if I had known it, or have signed my name to anything improper—I thought that what I was doing was all proper—from Mr. Kaye's representations I thought it was bona fide, and that it was all going to be all right—I thought Kaye was using my name on behalf of the company—there was no protection in the matter, I thought I should never hear any more of the matter after I had signed the papers—I did not expect to have any liability—I thought, being a man of straw, I could not be made liable—I did not think that it would be a liability for me—having seen the name of Brinsmead on it I thought it would probably be a bond fide affair—I did not sign them at a solicitor's office; it was at the office of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I signed one document at Mr. Thomson's office; not one of these papers, some other paper—Mr. Thomson transferred me to Mr. Crocker, the solicitor; it was after I had the writ—I signed some document at Mr. Thomson's office, I do not know what it was—then he transferred me to Mr. Crocker, a solicitor in London Wall—that was after the writ—one of the documents was on parchment—that was a legal document and signed at the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I did not think Mr. Kaye would have occasion to protect me—I was signing documents at his dictation for £5—I thought if they brought a company out it would be a good thing, as I mentioned to Mr. Kaye, when I saw the name of Brinsmead—I did not think if it was a bad thing what the result would be to myself, I did not ask—I did not ask what would be the effect to me if the company did not go through, I never troubled my mind about it—I had no idea of protection in the matter—I had no notion whether I was incurring any liability—I had a writ served on me to my astonishment—that looked like liability—I thought there was some trouble and I took the writ to them, and they took it from me and said I should not hear anything more about it—he said they were going to appeal to the House of Lords to let them continue the business of Brinsmeads—I read the writ—I did not understand that the object of the writ was to stop the company, it was asking me to refund

£100,000 I had never had—I took it up to Mr. Kaye the same morning—I presume it was while that action was pending that it was suggested to me, that I should take this holiday—I did not know whether any more writs were going to be served or not—Mr. Kaye said it would be all right, he said, "You need not trouble yourself, "and that they would defend any action that was brought—Mr. Kaye said he would write me a letter that I might come back—when the action was at an end, and the whole thing was clear, I might come back; I suppose that was what he meant—I was not watching the coarse of this action while I was away—I saw in one of the papers there was an action brought—on November 10th I wrote, "I read in last Friday's paper that the application was postponed until the 25th inst"—I did not understand that they were trying to stop the business or the company—"When I hope to receive the usual"—Mr. Thomson was in the office when I signed the first document, then Mr. Crocker, Mr. Thomson attests two, and Mr. Crocker attests the third—I did not under-stand that these were instruments which committed me on behalf of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation to a liability, on the face of them, as their nominee.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I have never seen you before.

Re-examined. Mr. Thomson is of the firm of Thomson and Braithwaite—Thomson was acting for the Contracts Corporation at the time, and Mr. Crocker was a solicitor, and when Mr. Thomson gave up acting for them, I presume it was transferred over to Mr. Crocker—nobody acted as my solicitor in these proceedings—I never signed a retainer for some solicitor to act for me—this is the writ which was served on me (produced)—it is a writ by James William Richardson on behalf of himself and all other shareholders, etc.—I read the statement that I was liable for that amount—I did not read it right through—with the exception of the £3 per week, no moneys have ever been paid to me except £5—the defendant Kaye never told me why it was I was being kept in the country all this time—I had my own ideas that there was something wrong about it—I was only told what was told me in the letters by Mr. Kaye—I never met Wilson over this business at all—I never saw him till we were witnesses together at the Mansion House, to my knowledge.

JAMES STEPHENSON WILSON . I am a clerk at Whitechapel just now—with Wybrow's—that is the pickle factory—I am the person mentioned on the prospectus of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, as a secretary—I am described there as Stephenson Wilson—my name is James Stephenson Wilson; I generally call myself James—I had nothing to say in the matter, whether I was called James Stephenson Wilson or Stephenson Wilson, or what—the people who formed the company did it, I suppose—in April, 1896, I answered an advertisement for a warehouse clerk, and I was engaged at the office of Lathom and Co.—that is the office where the Investor newspaper was published—my wages were a sovereign a week—I used to check the papers in and out as they came in from the printers; I was also in the editor's office—I did not write articles in the editor's office—I did not do part of the publishing business—I saw the newspapers put into the van and checked them—I used to see Mr. Ashton at the office of the Investor newspaper, he was the Editor; also Mr. Kaye, and occasionally

Mr. Ainsworth and Mr. Bernard—in July, 1896, I was telephoned for to come to 15, Queen Street, the office of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I saw the defendant Bernard there—he said he wished me to be secretary of a company, and he asked me to put my name on an envelope, which I did—I do not think he told me what company it was—he said he would give me £5 to start with—I wrote my name on the envelope—I think I went again soon afterwards—I think I saw Mr. Kaye when I went back—I do not know that anything was signed at all at that time; I might have signed something, I was at the office then on other business besides that—this is my signature—I did not know I was buying the business as trustee for the company at £76,000 odd—I had no idea of what was in that instrument at all—that is my name at the end of it—I did not know what was in that document any more than any other—I saw my name on the prospectus as Stephenson Wilson—I cannot say when I entered on my duties as secretary—all I did was to sign cheques—the cheques were blank; I signed some that were drawn—I signed one book right through in blank—there was another one I did not sign right through; it was signed in part—it was all in blank when I signed—the other one that I signed partially was filled up, I think—those cheques for £15,330 and £20,002 must have been in blank—I must have remembered such a large sum as that—a gentleman named Wilkes told me to sign those books right through—he used to be at 94, Cannon Street, I do not know where he is now—that was where the registered offices of the Brinsmead Company were—I sometimes attended at the office of the company of which I was secretary; perhaps once a week—I continued at the office of Lathom & Co. acting as warehouse clerk at £1 per week—I did not get more than the £5 that had been promised me for acting as secretary of this company—I do not know anything of the two circulars, one of August 12th and the other September 1st—I have been there while a board meeting was being held, but I was not in the room—I did not keep any minutes—I never signed these three documents—my name is put to them, but it is printed—I have never seen the originals, or gave authority to have them signed—I think it was till April, 1897, that I continued as warehouse clerk to Lathom and Company, I could not be sure—I had a better position offered—Mr. Bernard got me that—it was with Whybrow's—my wages were increased from 25s. to 30s.—I had got up to 25s. then.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I never saw you till I was put into the Witness-box at the Mansion House—you had nothing to do with the Investor newspaper, as far as I know—you had nothing to do with the prospectus that was issued that I know of, or with these two circular letters.

JAMES WILLIAM RICHARDSON I am a builder—I received by post in July, 1896, a copy of the Investor newspaper—I also received by post, separately, a copy of the prospectus of Brinsmead and Sons—I read both—on July 28th I sent in this application for twenty-five shares—with a cheque for £12 10s.—I got the receipt (produced) and the letter of allotment, and then the banker's receipt for £112 10s., the balance of the amount payable by me on the shares—I paid up in full then on application—I did that because the prospectus stated that the dividend would

commence from the time, so as to get the benefit of the 8 per cent. dividend from the date of payment—E believed the business was being carried on at Ferdinand Street and Bartholomew Works at the time—I saw the statement about the number of orders that had been obtained during the preceding month being 800—I believed it—I saw the statement that the business was being converted into a company for the purpose of extending it—I believed it was the old establishment that was being made larger—it was in that belief that I paid the money of which I have spoken—I came to a different opinion afterwards—about the next day after I had paid—I am not quite sure if it was the next day or the day after—I changed my belief from what I saw in the evening paper—I then put myself into communication with Mr. Maskell, a solicitor—and under his advice I issued this writ (produced) against the company, and against the directors and Davis—that was issued, I think, on August 12th—I also presented a petition, by the advice of Mr. Maskell, to wind up the company.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I brought an action alleging that this was a false and fradulent prospectus—that was my charge against the defendants—I read both the prospectus and the article from the Investor—I won't say I read them carefully—I have read them carefully since—I formed an opinion that the business that was going to be carried on was the business of the old established firm—I did not know anything of the firm, only from hearing it talked of, being at concerts, and seeing their pianos, and that sort of thing—I had seen pianos with "Brinsmead" on them—I did not know where the firm carried on business—I did not know what the name of the firm was, no more than it was Brinsmead and Sons—I did not know that it was John Brinsmead and Sons—I did not know where its manufactory was, nothing more about it—this prospectus says:—"This company has been formed for the purpose of acquiring, carrying on, and considerably extending the business of pianoforte manufacturers now carried on by Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, at Ferdinand Street, Camden Town, and Bartholomew Works"—Thomas Edward Brinsmead did not suggest anything to me as to whether it was an old firm or a new firm—the business was established by Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead, who, for nearly thirty years, held an important position with Messrs. John Brinsmead and Sons—I saw quite clearly by that that whatever this business was it was not the business of John Brinsmead and Sons—I saw it more clearly after than I did at the time—I see it clearly now—I believed the prospectus to be right—I have not taken any pains since that time to ascertain what orders have been received; I have left it in the hands of Mr. Maskell—I have not ascertained the names of the people who were going about soliciting orders—I take the prospectus as correct—the machinery and such like might have been there, but I have never been to see—I take this as being correct, that is all I can say—(the document was read through)—the very next day I thought there was something wrong about this prospectus, because I saw the statement in the paper that it was not John Brinsmead and Co.—it was in consequence of that that I made my application to Mr. Maskell: it was through that—I saw a statement that John Brinsmead and Co. were the old firm, and that was not John Brinsmead and Co.—when I got that statement I daresay I looked at this very prospectus, or referred to the prospectus to

see what had been stated—I had the prospectus in my possession, and read it, and on the faith of it had paid £125—I think it is very likely I looked at it—I cannot remember it—I went to Mr. Maskell through a paragraph that I had seen in the evening paper—he was not my solicitor—I had never had anything to do with him—I have not got that advertisement here—it was a caution—not in the form of an advertisement; very different—it was in the Star—Mr. Maskell has the copy—I saw Mr. Maskell—I cannot tell you the date—I do not know how many times I went to see Mr. Maskell—several times—I did not ascertain directly I went to Mr. Maskell's office that he was the solicitor for John Brinsmead and Co.—I heard it some time afterwards—Mr. Maskell did not tell me before I made my affidavit that he was the solicitor for John Brinsmead—I thought he was acting on behalf of the company—on August 14th I swore this affidavit—(it was read)—I had not received information about this matter from anybody except from Mr. Maskell—I took this information from him—I did not know until a few days ago that there were two firms of "Brinsmeads" carrying on business in London, nor did I know what Christian name, if any, was affixed to the name of the old-established firm whom I knew by reputation, but I have now ascertained that the correct name of such old firm is John Brinsmead and Sons, whose business has, I am informed, and believe, been established upwards of 50 years, and whose principal factory is in Graf ton Street, Kentish Town—I did not know where they carried on business—this is my affidavit—Mr. Maskell must have told me that; it is a long time (two years) to bear it in mind—I had not noticed that the premises had just been bought for the purpose of carrying on the work there—I got my information either from Mr. Maskell or from conversation—either Mr. Maskell or one of his clerks drew the affidavit—I gave some of the information on which this affidavit was drawn, not the whole of it—I did not give information as to what is alleged here to be the real facts of the case—I instructed Mr. Maskell to act for me—in bringing an action in my name with others—I have not yet paid the expenses of the action—I have not been asked for any money yet—I do not know who found the money—I paid three guineas, that is all I have paid—I did not make any inquiry as to what the costs of the whole action would be, and have never been told—Mr. Maskell said a writ would have to be issued, and it would be three guineas, and I paid that—I paid up my shares in full—and eventually there was an order made for the winding up of the company—I do not know that a new action is now pending by the Official Receiver against the defendants—I have got none of my money back—so far as I am concerned I have done nothing personally since the time I swore that affidavit and Mr. Maskell launched the litigation.

Re-examined. I went to Mr. Maskell's office in the first place to get the money back—I see the names of the directors in the prospectus—the name of the first director is Thomas Edward Brinsmead, Esq., Pianoforte Works, Ferdinand Street—I saw that when I first had the prospectus—I thought they were large works going on.

Thursday, May 5th, 1898.

JOHN SWAYNE PEARCE . I live at 57, Belsize Park—I have now retired

from business—I was formerly a member of the firm of Hailing, Pearce, and Stone, of Waterloo House—about July 29th, 1896, I received a copy of the Investor newspaper by post—I read in it the prospectus of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, and also the article on page 8 of the newspaper—I read the prospectus very carelessly, I must admit, bat I read the article, and that led me to apply for shares—I went to the office of the company, 94, Cannon Street, immediately afterwards, to get the prospectus with the application form in it, and I filled up the form applying for 200 ordinary snares—that is my application form, and this is my letter enclosing cheque for £1,000—I paid up in full because I was in the country, and I thought I should get the whole allotted if I paid in full, in order to secure the allotment of the whole number of shares—I received the allotment letter and the banker's receipt on the same day—at the time I paid this money I believed the business was Brinsmeads of Wigmore Street, I had no idea of any other—I knew Brinsmead by name as the old-established business—a printed statement came with the prospectus—the one with pictures showing the whole of the works—I supposed the business at Ferdinand Street was Brinsmeads, and that it was being carried on at that time at Ferdinand Street as well as at Bartholomew Road—I believed the statement as to the eight hundred orders alleged to have been obtained during the preceding month—I thought it was a very extraordinary thing, and therefore dividends would be sure to come in with such splendid orders—I received by post the circular—in August—I do not remember the statement in that circular that over sixty men were then employed—of course, I must have read it—yes, I read it, certainly—I also received the certificate of September 1st—I read them both, and took them on to Mr. Maskell, the solicitor, within a day or two of paying the money—I then discovered that it was a swindle, and that other people were carrying it on—it was not Brinsmeads at all—I immediately saw Mr. Brinsmead at Wigmore Street, immediately after I went to Mr. Maskell, and then went to the office of the company—I there saw a tallish young man—I asked for Mr. Wilson, tho secretary—whether I saw Mr. Wilson I do not know—I did not see him—I think his name was Wilkes—I saw him at the Mansion House—I addressed him as if he were the secretary of the company—he answered as if he were acting in that capacity—by my instructions Mr. Maskell applied for a return of the money I had paid—I never got it.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I received the Investor with the article in it, and the copy of the prospectus—I went to the office of the company and got a prospectus—the next day, I think; I am not certain—I went immediately, as soon as I could—I think it was the next day—I am not positive about that—I cannot swear—I did not read the prospectus as carefully as I should have done—I think I read it—I must have read it—I believed that it was Brinsmead of Wigmore Street—I do not know that Wigmore Street was not mentioned in that prospectus—I have been in the habit of passing through Wigmore Street and seeing Brinsineads' place and name there—I did not know whether it was John, Edward, or George, or any other name—directly after I went to Wigmore Street I noticed John Brinsmead was up—I did not notice in the prospectus

that this Mr. Brinsmead had been for thirty years with John Brinsmead and Co.—I very likely said before the Magistrate that I noticed there was no reference to Wigmore Street in the prospectus—I can see now, of course, that it states that the place was being fitted up—anyone can see it—I might have seen it then if I had taken pains to read the prospectus—I mean to say it was not Brinsmead of Wigmore Street; people I had known—I had come to the conclusion that it was Brinsmead of Wigmore Street—I did not find I was mistaken till after I had paid my money, and everything of that kind—I thought they were the Brinsmeads of Wigmore Street; I had no idea of any other Brinsmeads—that was the interpretation I put on the prospectus—I did not know there were three Brinsmeads carrying on business at Bartholomew Road—I did not go to find out—I did not go to Bartholomew Road or to Ferdinand Street—the only person I went to was the solicitor, of John Brinsmead and Mr. John Breasted himself—I did not take part in the legal proceedings—I did not bring any action—I left it to the solicitor, Mr. Maskell, to bring the action—an action has been brought in my name, and a number of others—I have not paid anything towards it, nor had any claim made against me—I do not know anything about a nominal vendor and purchaser in this transaction, or about converting a business into a limited company—I mean, I know a little of the process, but I am not an expert or anything of that kind—in my own case our business was converted into a limited company—that business was sold to a nominee of the new company—I do not want to stir up things that occurred ten or twelve years ago—it was done through a promoting company—the City of London Contracts Corporation—the business was sold to a nominee of that corporation—I do not know what he was—his name, I think, was Davidson—I do not know if he was a clerk in the office—the vendor to the company—Mr. Davidson was the person to whom I sold, he being the nominee of the Contracts Corporation—he in turn sold to the new company—he had nothing to do with the working of the business—we did not sell to him, we sold to the Contracts Corporation—we certainly sold to the Contracts Corporation.

Re-examined. Our business before this company was formed was Hailing, Pearce, and Stone—we carried on business as linen drapers on a very large scale—then there was another business of Swan and Edgar also on a large scale—the formation of this company we have heard about was consolidating our business with Swan and Edgar's into the company of Swan and Edgar which now carries on the business—it was Swan and Edgar and Waterloo House, and we altered the name, being a long one, to Swan and Edgar—that has existed ten or twelve years—I was the managing director for six or seven years—I am not now—I hold shares in it—it is a very prosperous company—I effected the amalgamation through the City of London Contracts Corporation—there was one company of two businesses—the City of London Contracts Corporation is not the same as this Consolidated Contracts Corporation—Mr. Davidson acted as trustee for the City of London Contracts Corporation—it has not always been prosperous, not at first, but the last three years the business has been very much better—I knew Brinsmeads by reputation—I have been there once or twice—I did not know where the works of Brinsmeads

were—Wigmore Street is only their showrooms—that (produced) is the prospectus of our company as it was published in the Investors' Guardian—I say I have never seen it before, and I have not seen the Investors' Guardian with our name in before—I have never seen a copy of it in the Investors' Guardian—I cannot tell whether it is correct or not without reference to the original document—I have not got a copy of the prospectus—it may or may not be right.

By the JURY. I do not know what was the difference in the price between that which our property was conveyed to the Contracts Corporation and the price at which it was put before the public—it is thirteen years ago—I do not recollect.

BERTHA ATKINSON .—I did live at Craven Terrace, Bayswater, when this occurred, I have moved since—I am a widow—I received a copy of the Investor newspaper about the 20th July, 1896—I read the article first, and then I looked at the prospectus—having read them both I applied on July 24th for two shares—that is my application—that is cut out of the Investor newspaper—I sent with it a Post-office order for £1 as a deposit on the shares—I received this receipt and the allotment letter—in consequence of something I discovered I wrote this letter (produced) to 95, Cannon Street. (Read: "3, Craven Terrace, Lancaster Gate, W., July 29th, 1896. Messrs. Brinsmead,—I have been mislead by your promoters in applying for two shares in the belief that it was the well-known old firm of Brinsmead and Sons, which I now discover is John Brinsmead and Sons. I am advised to demand the return of £1 application money, as I have no intention of investing in your company. I observe my allotment letter is dated July 25th, 1896, although the official list was advertised to open on Tuesday, 28th, only. The receipt and allotment letter, with stamps for postage, will be returned on receipt of £1, sent by me to you—Yours obediently, BERTHA ATKINSON"—I received a reply to that letter from the company's office—I am under the impression I sent it up with the other papers to the Mansion House Police-court—I distinctly remember looking for it, and could not find it—the office did not return my money—I have never had it returned—what I state in this letter of July 29th is true—I was misled into the belief that it was the old-fashioned firm of Brinsmead that I was sub scribing to—I had no reason to doubt the statements in the prospectus as to the number of orders they had obtained during the preceding month.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWSON WALTON. I had heard of the Brinsmead pianos—I saw the word "Brinsmead" on this prospectus—I thought it was the same firm—I do not profess to have read the prospectus carefully—I did not distinguish between John Brinsmead and Sons and Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons—I thought it was all one—I drew that conclusion merely from seeing the word Brinsmead—I glanced at the prospectus—it was the article I read.

Re-examined by the SOLICITORGENERAL. I read the article in the Investor carefully—alter reading the article I came to the conclusion I have stated—I noticed in the Investor the statement about the 800 pianos ordered—I did not know that the Inventor was controlled by the same people who were bringing out the company. (Read: "1st July, 1896. Mrs. Bertha Atkinson. Dear Madam—I beg to acknowledge the receipt

of your letter, and will lay the same before my directors. Yours faith-fully, S. WILSON, Secretary)"—the other is August 5th, 1896.

WILLIAM HENRY TOYE . I live in the Clerkenwell Road, and trade there as a masonic jeweller—I received in July, 1896, a copy of the Investor newspaper by post—I remember reading the circular, but I am not quite sure that I read the newspaper—I think I got them both together, or nearly so—by the circular I mean I he prospectus—I received by post a separate copy of the prospectus—I had a copy of the prospectus with the pictures in it—on July 26th, 1896, I applied for twenty shares upon the application form now produced—I sent with it my cheque for £10 (produced)—the shares were allotted to me—on or about August 19th I wrote this letter to the company, headed "Toye and Co."—(The circular was from 94, Cannon Street, dated August 18th, and entered into a long explanation of the circumstances attending the formation of the business)—I received that circular, and then wrote this letter:—"Toye and Co., 17, Clerkenwell Road (four doors from St. John Street), August 19th, 1896, Mr. S. Wilson. Dear Sir,—Your circular, dated August 12th, to hand, and after going carefully through it I do not see my way clear to take up the shares. Your prospectus certainly was very misleading in my opinion, as it did not distinctly state that the firm of T. E. Brinsmead and Sons had or had not any connection with John Brinsmead and Sons, but it read as though they had, and for this and other reasons I request that you will return my deposit, which will save further trouble.—Yours truly, W. H. TOYE"—on August 24th I wrote this further letter—I had by that time received a 'notice of the first call on my shares, and I think I had received a notice of a call—I had also received this other circular of August 18th, 1896 (read)—I think I must have read that; it has gone from my memory now—I wrote: "August 24th, 1896. Messrs. T. E. Brinsmead and Sons. Gentlemen,—Your notice of first call for £1 per share to hand, but as I have already written you twice to return the deposit of £10, I being under the impression that your company and John Brinsmead and Sons were one, I now ask you again to return the said deposit, otherwise I shall seek other means of getting it.—I remain, yours truly, W. H. TOYK"—it is true, as stated in that letter, that I had subscribed my money in the belief that this was the old business of Brinsmead—they never returned this money or any of it—I paid the call, but not to them—I had to pay it to the Official Receiver—I remember receiving a copy of the Investor newspaper by post—I would not be positive if I read it—I think I must have read it—I think it was Saturday evening, and I was busy.

Cross-examined by Sir EDWARD CLARKE. I am positive that I read the prospectus—there is no doubt about that—I was under the impression that this company was to carry on the business of John Brinsmead; that is to say that this company and John Brinsmead & Co. were one—I do not know that I can point out the passage in that prospectus from which I gathered that—I see here the words: "This company has been formed for the purpose of acquiring, carrying on, and considerably extending the business of pianoforte manufacturers now carried on by Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, at Ferdinand Street, Camden Town, and Bartholomew-mew

mew Works, Bartholomew Road, Kentish Town," that does not show that it was John Brinsmead & Son; but I only had one impression in my mind, and that was the original Brinsmeads at the time—it never came to me that this was anything else—I see it says "The business was established by Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead, who for nearly 30 years held an important position with Messrs. John Brinsmead & Sons "; those 30 years led me to believe that it was the same firm—I did not think that John Brinsmead & Sons had ceased to exist—I thought it was an addition, that was my impression—I did not investigate it thoroughly—my letter is a sufficient indication of that.

Re-examined. I only knew one firm; I did not know whether it was John, Jack or anything else—I knew nothing about their Christian names—I only knew of John Brinsmead, the pianoforte people—I observed the statement about the orders for over 800 pianofortes within the last month, and this statement under the head "Management" on the second page: "The whole of the present staff will be retained, thus ensuring the continuation of the present excellent workmanship, which has made these pianos so universally appreciated"—I observed that—I paid too much attention to that and not to others—I saw this: "While Mr. Edward George Stanley Brinsmead has been mainly responsible for the extremely beautiful sounding boards with which the firm's instruments are fitted," and the next paragraph, "The orders in hand will keep the factory busy for many months to come. The firm manufactures largely for the trade, as well as for private buyers, and these orders emanate from some of the best houses in the kingdom;" "orders have been received from various houses for over 800 pianofortes"—reading the whole of that I came to the conclusion that it Was Brinsmeads—I thought it was impossible for a new firm like that to have 800 pianofortes on order.

THOMAS JAMES BRINSMEAD . I am a pianoforte manufacturer and am a member of the firm of John Brinsmead and Sons—our show rooms are at Wigmore Street, and our works in Grafton Road, Kentish Town, and our firm is generally known in the trade as "John Brinsmead and Sons," and oar pianos are spoken of as Brinsmead's pianos—our business is a very large one—we keep over 200 hands—it has been established since 1837—a business manufacturing 50 pianos a week I would call a large business—the statement on the second paragraph of this prospectus, "The busi-ness was established by Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead, who for nearly 30 years held an important position with Messrs. John Brinsmead and Sons," is not true, in so far as an important position is concerned—his position was that of a mechanic—he was doing small cabinet work in connection with the cases—he was working by the piece and was earning from £2 to £3 a week—his two sons, Mr. Edward George Stanley Brinsmead and Mr. Sydney Walter Brinsmead were also in our employ as mechanics, earning less than their father—one was what we term bellying, and the other was fitting-up—the statement in the prospectus, "Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead has for many years personally superintended the Adjustment of the delicate parts of pianofortes," is not true—his work was on wood-work, absolutely—he had nothing whatever to do with the Adjustment of the delicate parts of the pianofortes—"Mr. Edward George Stanley Brinsmean has been mainly responsible for the extremely beautyful

sounding-boards with which the firm's instruments are fitted "is not true—he had to do with sounding-boards, mounting them up and joining, that is what we call bellying—he had something to do with them, but not the delicate parts—he had nothing to do with them except as a mechanic—he was not responsible for the excellence of the sounding-board—that depends upon the scaling, the marking off of the sounding board, and a variety of other portions of the work—with that he had not anything to do at all—those three persons left the employment of our firm, I think, in October, 1894—a workman of the name of Wilcox left our employ at the same time—they were discharged by me—soon after I heard that they had started business on their own account—I discharged them because they were making pianos while they were in our employment—after they left I heard that Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Wilcox were carrying on business together—they had started business as "T. Brinsmead and Sons"—in January, 1895, I instructed my solicitor, Mr. Maskell, to take proceedings to restrain them—I know the premises at Bartholomew Road where they carried on business—they were not premises where any large pianoforte business could be carried on.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I have been in the firm since I was 13, that is 40 odd years—it is the fact that Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead had been there 30 years—I should think I could make at the outside three pianos a week at the Bartholomew Works—I knew nothing of the Ferdinand Street Works when Chappell's built them—I knew them subsequently, when Immisch had them—I knew of their being built by Chappell at the time—Chappell never occupied them for those purposes—Chappell's is a large firm, and was doing a large business—I objected in 1895 to "T. Brinsmead and Sons" being used—the order was that the names "Thomas Edward" should be used—in this prospectus the names "Thomas Edward" are used—the prospectus being brought to my notice I recognised at once that this was to a certain extent a rivalry in trade—we inserted the advertisements ourselves headed "Caution"—I think it was in July, 1896—immediately afterwards I saw the publication of this prospectus—I think we sent the caution to different newspapers—I think generally in the form of an advertisement—Mr. Rowe is a clerk in our employment—I do not think he was instructed to write to the newspapers about it—I knew of it afterwards—I did not know he was writing to the Star newspaper—I did not know that Mr. Maskell sent out a circular to the shareholders—I do rot remember it, at all events—I attended the office to examine the register of shareholders—I went there three times to refer to the register—I wished to obtain a copy of the register, and I enquired for it, and also when I was there I wished to refer to the register each time—partly for the purpose of finding out who were the shareholders principally, I may say, but more particularly to see if any friends' names were down—we obtained an injunction against the company for using this name—I was aware besides that actions were brought by shareholders against the company for the return of the money—the proceedings were not taken at our expense—I have not borne any part of these expenses—the expenses of our own proceedings against the company were ours entirely, of course.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. I am a cousin of the, defendant, Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead—my father and his "were, brothers—my father was the founder of the piano business of John Brinsmead and Sons—I was not absolutely apprenticed to my father, but I learnt my business with my father from a very early age—Mr. Brinsmead, the defendant, became an employee there, I think, about 30 years since—I presume it was my service from an early age in that firm that qualified me to become a partner—one section of the work which I performed during my early years was similar to that which the defendant Brinsmead had to perform—one portion of the work I then learned would be making the general cabinet work, and that was only one out of the eight or nine departments I went through—the defendant did nothing only in one department during the thirty years—his sons were apprenticed to different departments, one the fitting up, and the other the bellying—you might say between them they would know three departments, the father and the two sons—one of Mr. Brinsmead's sons worked to a large extent at sounding-boards; that is a delicate part of a piano—Mr. Brinsmead himself worked at key blocks (the little bits of wood between the keys), the toes, the portion on which the trusses rest and those little things, and also key bottoms-in sounding-board heir beauty depends upon the work and the material used and the pattern you work by; the social models and patents we have taken out for it—that is not beauty to the eye, but the tone which is produced force, them—it depends on a large number of things—it is not mechanical; the production of a good tone result, from the scales and the patents we have taken out for the sounding-boards; if the mechanical work is well carried out, then we may have a first-class sounding-board—if you use good material, put good work into it, and make it on your patterns, you will have a good sounding-boards—the pattern is a question of mathematics—that goes beyond what these Brinsmeads had to do; there is the marking off, which is far more important—they could not make sounding-boards the same as ours exactly, because we have patents—the Brinsmeads were dismissed for making pianos while they were in our employ—Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead, the defendant, and his two sons, were not all dismissed together—I had them into my office one after the other; about the same date, really, and Wilcox also—I was not aware exactly where they were made, but I charged them with it, and Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead ultimately acknowledged that he was doing so—I considered he was doing wrong—the defendant Brinsmead and his sons set up in partnershing with Wilcox—I told them when they were leaving that they had a perfect right to manufacture pianos as well as we if they conducted their business in a proper manner—naturally any man starting would be a competitor in that sense—when they traded under the style of Thomas Brinsmead and Sons I proceeded to institute Chancery proceedings, but we intended that if they would use the whole of their names we would drop the proceedings and pay costs up to that date—that would be about January, 1895—they having been dismissed about January, 1894—I followed that up by a motion to commit my cousin—we did not press the matter beyond procuring an order for the payment of costs—I said I would be satisfied with that—I recognised that he was entitled to use

the name of Brinsmead—after the injunction he used the name of Thomas Edward Brinsmead—that is his full name—I do not complain that it was not a sufficient description of himself—I never did complain of that—I consider that we have been prejudiced in our business by the formation of this company; but so far as our actual business is concerned, I think not.

Re-examined. We took steps to obtain an injunction against their trading as Thomas Brinsmead and Sons—the offer we made was that if they would use their names in full, and we suggested the name in full and "company" instead of "sons," we would withdraw proceedings that had then been commenced, and pay their costs up to that date, but they declined to do it—the case came on in Court, and an injunction was granted—after the injunction was granted we complained of what we alleged was a breach of the injunction—they were not observing it—the order was that they should abide by the injunction, and pay the costs of the application—the injunction we obtained was against the limited company—that would be in 1896—I forget exactly the date—an appeal was taken against that order by the company to the Court of Appeal and dismissed—I went through about twelve departments to qualify myself for my work in the firm—the defendants, Thomas Edward Brinsmead and his sons were engaged on three only—there are more than twelve departments with every sub-division—they covered three only—Mr. Brinsmead, junior, who was engaged on the mechanical work of the sounding-boards, had only a portion of the delicate work to do which insured the excellence of the sounding-boards—I might add the least important of the sounding board work—the excellence of our sounding-boards is due to our model and the marking-off—he had nothing whatever to do with that.

WALTER MASKELL . I am a solicitor, of 35, John Street, Bedford Row—in November, 1894, I was consulted by Messrs. John Brinsmead and Sons, of Wigmore Street—and on the 21st January, 1895, I issued a writ for an injunction against the defendant, Thomas Edward Brinsmead—he action was tried on the 20th and 21st November, 1895, by Mr. Justice Roiner—it resulted in an injunction—it is dated November 21st—(It was put in and read)—they were ordered to pay the costs—but Messrs. Brinsmead agreed not to enforce them—it came to my knowledge that Wilcox had left the business—some time after that I learnt facts which lead me to apply to the Court in reference to what I considered a breach of the terms of that injunction, and there was a motion to commit—at the suggestion of my clients the order was taken (read)—the defendant Brinsmead called on me on March 22nd with reference to the subject of these costs—he said that they had been selling up their homes to keep the business going, and that the proceedings taken by me on behalf of John Brinsmead and Sons had practically ruined them and generally to that effect—ultimately the costs were paid on July 28th—that was the day appointed for the examination before a Master as to their means—with a view of seeing whether we could enforce the judgment—they were paid on the 28th July in bank notes in the presence of the Examiner—the amount was £650—that was not the amount of the costs, the amount of the costs was £380, but the £650 was made up by the costs of a mortgage of a house of Mr. Brinsmead—I gave a receipt—

(Jordan produced the original receipt)—I gave it to Mr. Lambert, who handed me the money—he is a solicitor for the defendant—it is on account of principal, interest, and costs (read)—I took the proceedings against the company, which forms the subject of this inquiry—it was a motion for an injunction—that was heard on August 7th, 8th and 11th by Mr. Justice North, and an order was made on August 11th—an appeal was taken against the order, and was dismissed by the Court of Appeal on October 28th—it simply dismissed the appeal with costs—I took proceedings on behalf of Mr. Richardson and other shareholders to prevent the carrying out of the various contracts that have been referred to—I either issued writs or served notices of motion on behalf of 73 shareholders, including Mr. Richardson—Mr. Richardson's object was to restrain them from disposing of the money—the others were for the return of the money—the motion was made in court on behalf of Mr. Richardson and other shareholders to restrain the company from parting with the purchase money to Davies—an undertaking was given on behalf of the company not to part with the £9,000—that undertaking was given on that motion; and as to the moneys, counsel stated that the other contracts had been completed—on that I applied to stop the £9,000—on behalf of Mr. Richardson, on August 26th, I presented a petition to wind up the company—an order was made by Mr. Justice Vaughan Williams on December 3rd, 1896—and on appeal that was affirmed after a hearing in the Appeal Court on February 11th and 12th, 1897—judgment was delivered on the 20th, the hearing was on the 11th and 12th.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I have been acting as the solicitor to Messrs. John Brinsmead and Sons for some time—in July, 1896, I sent out a circular to those who wrote to me for information, but I never sent out circular letters generally—I thought the company was acquiring the business of the old firm of John Brinsmead and Sons—questions were sent out—I have got the answers here in many cases—thereupon I took proceedings in respect of 72 shareholders by notice of motion for revision—I commenced by issuing writs, and afterwards I served notices of motion instead to have the names taken off the register—I commenced by writs, but I was advised that notices of motion would be more convenient—I was solicitor in all of them—Mr. Richardson's case came on before the Court—it was a most expensive piece of litigation—but proceedings were taken on behalf of the 73—I simply put Richardson's name in because I had to select some one—they are not paid yet—it has to be paid by the 73 shareholders, whose solicitor I am—I have received from the Official Receiver £2 12s. 6d. in each case on account of the costs—I have agreed them with the Official Receiver—I look to the 73 clients for the balance from the company's fund through the Official Receiver—with regard to the proceedings now pending I am employed as solicitor by the Official Receiver—there was an action brought by the company against the defendants in April, 1897—the action is down for hearing now before Mr. Justice North—it is against the whole of the defendants and others—I have the statement of claim here—it was delivered on August 11th, 1897—I knew of the proceedings at the Mansion House—I was only there as a witness—I had nothing to do

with the criminal proceedings—I was the official solicitor in connection with that action only—I am the official solicitor in the action—I have been present at the criminal proceeding only very rarely—I know nothing of the promotion and getting up of companies; this is my first experience of these proceedings—I have been solicitor to one company only, Bishop and Sons, Limited, Chalk Farm—I am their solicitor now—that was a business being turned into a limited company—there were no company promoters in it—I was solicitor for Bishop, who was turning his business into a limited company—it went to the public, but afterwards it was taken over by Bishop and his family—I have never acted for any companies except as a private solicitor.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. The injunction in respect to which I first proceeded was against Brinsmead and his sons—it was a motion to commit—as to the costs in regard to the defendant Brinsmead, the whole of those were paid to you by Mr. Lambert—when Mr. Brinsmead called on me on March 22nd, he told me he was practically ruined by the proceedings—he asked me whether my client, Mr. John Brinsmead, would accept £250 in settlement of all claims upon the house, in reference to which he got a receiver—he asked me if I would advise my clients to accept £250 in payment of the costs—that I refused.

Cross-examined by MR. MUIR. A notice was served on the defendant company not to part with the £9,000, and not to proceed with the completion of the purchase—that was a notice of motion in the action by Richardson—that was started August 12th, 1896—I probably served the notice with the writ—it was heard on August 19th—the writ is dated August 12th, 1896, and it was served, together with a copy of the notice of motion, at Cannon Street on the 12th—Alfred Nesbett, one of my clerks, served it.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I recollect calling on you at your office to inspect the register of members of the first or £8,000 company—I was not aware that you were acting as trustee for the three Brinsmeads—I have not since ascertained that to be the fact—I have heard it—I have not ascertained it, nor do I know it; it may be—I do not think I have seen the agreement of July, 1896—I do not find on the register the notice of a trustee, and I do not think they file them at Somerset House—we had a conversation as to what we might do to save further litigation—you wrote me a letter the following day—I have got the letter—two letters were written by you, and my letter was in reply to the first—there is only a copy of my letter in reply to the first.

Re-examined. I am acting as solicitor for the Official Receiver—I am not taking part in these criminal proceedings, only as a witness to supply documents asked for by the Public Prosecutor.

THOMAS GOURLBY . I am a chartered accountant and examiner in the Official Receiver's department at the office, 33, Carey Street—I have charge under the Official Receiver of the liquidation of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited—I made enquiries as to the state of the company and made a verbal report to our chief, the Official Receiver—the order to wind up the company was on December 3rd, and the premises were actually closed on December 12th—I have got the statement of affairs filed by the directors—Dr. Bradford, who is since deceased, signed the statement of affairs—I know that by repute, and Thomas Edward Brinsmead, the

defendant, Edward George Stanley Brinsmead, and Ernest Herbert Lomax, the defendant—it is not signed by Ballantine, nor by S. W. Brinsmead; those are two other directors who do not concur—I have since gone through that statement, and checked it by the company's book—they appear to be in agreement—they were to carry on the business as from March 25th, and at December 3rd, the date of the winding-up, the gross profit was £1,002 12s. 5d.—the ordinary expenses during the same period were £1,728 13s. 2d., bat there were some other expenses in addition—£1,728 at least—that is snowing a loss of over £700—I have seen Jordan write—I found among the company's papers, dated September 17th, 1896, this typewritten letter signed by Jordan—(this asked if Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons had begun active work at the Ferdinand Street premises, and whether they were in a fit state for the Fire Insurance Companies' inspectors to visit them)—I received certain documents from Mr. Thomson, the solicitor to the company—I produce an agreement dated May 16th, 1896, between Richard Jordan, the liquidator of the first company, and the three Brinsmeads—it purports to be a sale of the old company to the three Brinsmeads for a sum sufficient to pay the debts and the costs of the liquidation—it is signed by Jordan—the debts came to about £300—either Mr. Jordan or Mr. Thomas Brinsmead told me that—this is the agreement between the three Brinsmeads and Davis, in which the Brinsmeads agree to sell the business to Davis for £5,000 in cash and £1,000 in shares—I find a letter in July, 1896, signed by the three Brinsmeads, and addressed to the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—"We, the undersigned, Thomas Edward Brinsmead, Ed ward George Stanley Brinsmead, and Sydney Walter Brinsmead, hereby request and authorise you to pay to Mr. Francis Richard Jordan, of 116, Chancery Lane, W. C., the purchase-money, and to issue to him the shires we are to receive under the agreement of July 1st, 1896, between ourselves and Joseph Davis; in all £6,000"—Mr. Thomson handed that to me—we got them all, I believe, in fact, from Mr. Thomson—I know the signature of Thomas Edward Brinsmead—I do not know if I have seen him write, but I have seen a good deal of his writing—I found in that agreement an endorsement at the end of it—a receipt signed by Jordan for £700, dated July 28th, 1896: "Received from the within named Joseph Henry Da vies the sum of £700 on account thereof"—of £9,000—on Jordan's signature on Exhibit 4—I find here the endorsement of the receipt of £300 by Jordan, dated 1st July—I also received a number of deeds of assignment from Mr. Thomson—of August, 1896, between the three Brinsmeads and the old company and Jordan, the liquidator—that purports to he an assignment of the original business of the Brinsmeads, the Bartholomew Works, to the old original company—signed by the three Brinsmeads and Jordan—that first deed recites the agreement, which we had two days ago, of March 27th, 1896, made between the three Brinsmeads and the company—the agreement by which Mr. Jordan sold back the business to the three Brinsmeads, and which recites the agreement of May, is signed by Jordan and the three Brinsmeads—the next is August 14th, 1896, made between the three Brinsmeads, Jordan and Alabone, J. H. Davies and the new company—that transfers everything bat the leases—that is Exhibit 7—that is signed by Jordan and by Balancing, as a director of the

new company—it is signed by Davies, Jordan, Alabone, and the three Brinsmeads—I know that that is Ballantine's signature—I have seen him write—I also produce an indenture of under lease for 13 1/4 years, made between Jordan, Alabone, J. H. Davies and the new company; that is Exhibit 86—at a rent of £250 per annum—Jordan signed that—it is not signed by Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Ballantine—I produce Exhibit 87, a minute of the memorandum and of the subscribers to the memorandum and articles of the new company, with a number of signatures on it. (Read: "At a meeting of the subscribers to the Memorandum and Articles of Association of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, held at 116, Chancery Lane, London, on July 22nd, 1896. Present: Thomas Edward Brinsmead, E. G. S. Brinsmead, S. Brinsmead, M. A. Brinsmead, Thomas H. Brinsmead, G. Brinsmead, F. H. Briusmead, It was resolved that Thomas Edward Brinsmead, Edward George Stanley Brinsmead, Jacob Bradford, E. H. Lomax, Edwin Ballantine, and Sidney Walter Brinsmead, be appointed directors of the company, three to form a quorum. The appointment of the Messrs. Brinsmead to take place after completion of purchase")—I also produce the minute book of the company—in the first minute of the company, dated also July 22nd, I find, among several resolutions, the following: "The contract for the purchase of the property was considered, and it was resolved that the contract, dated July 2nd, 1896, submitted to the meeting, for the purchase of the property between Joseph Henry Davis of the one part, and Stephenson Wilson, as trustees on behalf of the company, of the other part, be adopted"—but there is a clerical error—it reads:' "Stephenson Wilson, of the other part, be adopted"—I also find this resolution: "The prospectus was approved and ordered to be issued and advertised"—and this: "It was resolved that the three agreements between the company and Mr. T. E. Brinsmead, S. W. Brinsmead, and E. G. S. Brinsmead as to service be sealed, and the common seal of the company was duly affixed"—I have seen these three agreements, but have not got them—the father for ten years, and the two sons for fifteen years each—the father at a salary of £350 per annum for ten years. (Minutes of July 24th and 25th, August 4th, 5th, 8th, 12th, 14th, and 21st, 1896, were read; they contained the following passages'. "It was resolved that the solicitors be instructed to at once issue a writ against John Brinsmead and Sons on behalf of the company for libel, and an injunction to restrain John Brinsmead and Sons from injuring the company in its business." "The solicitor attended and reported that he had issued and served a writ on behalf of the company on Messrs. John Brinsmead and Sons to-day, July 25th. It was resolved that the solicitors be instructed to insert in all papers in which John Brinsmead and Sons' advertisement appears or had appeared, the following advertisement:—'Important notice and caution. Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons (Limited), pianoforte manufacturers, of the Pianoforte Works, Ferdinand Street, Camden Town, and Bartholomew Works, Kentish Town, hereby give notice that they have no connection with any other firm carrying on business under the style, name or designation of Brinsmead. The firm of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, recently converted into a limited liability company, was founded by Mr.

Edward Thomas Brinsmead and his two sons, Mr. Edward George Stanley Brinsmead and Mr. Sidney Walter Brinsmead/'" "The application from the vendor for payment of deposit of 20 per cent, on the purchase-money was considered, and it was resolved that a cheque for £15,330 be drawn and handed to the vendor." "The solicitors attended with letter from Mr. Blandford's solicitors. It was resolved that the solicitors be instructed to accept service on behalf of the company." "The secretary read a letter from Mr. W. H. Toye, and it was resolve that the same be handed to the company's solicitors to be replied to." "The solicitor reported that he had arranged with the vendor's solicitor for the immediate completion of the purchase." "The solicitor reported that the vendor and other necessary parties had executed all necessary documents for vesting the property in the company." "Circular to shareholders: It was resolved that the draft circular produced be printed and circulated amongst the shareholders." "The chairman reported that a sum of £9,000 had been placed on deposit with Messrs. Brown, Janson and Co. in the names of himself and Mr. N. J. B. A Thomson to provide for the guaranteed interest as stated in the prospectus so far as amount of capital subscribed at present, and agreement produced creating the trust of the same was ordered to be sealed"—the prospectus rays: "As an instance of the popularity of the firm's manufactures, it may be mentioned that during the past month orders have been received from various houses for over eight hundred pianofortes"—I have carefully examined the books of the company to see what order were received for pianos—I found a variety of documents, but they are practically all embodied in one book, which we call the Order Book (produced); I also found a file of orders (produced)—I compared the file and the order book together, and they substantially agreed—in March, 1896, I found twenty-two orders, in April thirty-five, in May fifty-three in June two, and in July twenty one—that makes 133 from March to July; I have also taken out the total number of orders between March 3rd and December, 1896—it is 340—so far as they are recorded here the number of pianossent out between those dates was eighty-three during the whole period—between July and December, 1896, the defendant Brinsmead received on account of his salary of £350 a year, about £711 think—it is five months, £71 13s. 4d.—it is not perfectly clear, but I made enquiries and I think that is the correct figure, so far as my enquiries went; I have also examined the bucks and find that about 530 people subscribed for shares—their applications represented £58,250—I am not including in that the paid-up shares allotted to the vendor—by December 3rd, when the order to wind up was made, the company received from those 500 shareholders £40,152 10s., of which £9,000 was safely, put away on deposit—about 140 of those applications, which were received by the company, came out of the Investor, were on the Investor paper. (Circular of September 1st was read.)

Cross-examined by Sir EDWARD CLARKE. Mr. Ainsworth, Mr. Bernard, and Mr. Kaye were not directors of the company—I do not think there is any record showing that they were ever present at one of its meetings—I do not think there is among the papers anything with regard to these orders for pianos connected with Messrs. Ainsworth, Bernard, and Kaye

—I have no papers before me bearing their names, or showing that they had anything to do with these orders—the materials I had for finding out what orders these people had had were the order file, and a number of payments, which are substantially in agreement, with the exception of one document, which I will find here if you like—there was an order book—I believe it is in the manager's writing—and there was a file of orders, which I compared with it; they corresponded—there were twenty-two orders in March—eighty-three pianos were supplied during a certain period, but I cannot tell you very easily how many of those were supplied in March; the dates were very irregular with regard to the execution of the orders—I cannot tell you just now how many of the eighty-three were supplied before the middle of July, 1896; I am sorry I have not got them—they seem to have been sent out later; they do not seem to have sent out many in the earlier stages of the business—most of the 83 were sent out after the formation of the company—the works at Bartholomew Road could not have turned out more than three pianos per week at the outside—I gave you 133 pianos between March 3rd and the end of July, or July 22nd, the date of registration—that is a little less than five months—I have very nearly finished looking; I do not think any of these were supplied before July—I think none were sent out—they seem to have been sent out in September and October—March 3rd of the 133 pianos—I did not go back before March 3rd at all—when I say 83 only were sent out I do not mean including some which might possibly have been the result of orders which came in before, but order executed appearing in this order-book—what we found was that there were no orders outstanding on March 3rd, so far as we could gather from the papers handed over to the company—but, of course, the company was only taking the business as from March 25th—supposing 133 orders were received for pianos during the something less than five months before July 2nd, that would, of course, show a larger business than the Bartholomew Road works could do at three pianos a week—therefore, assuming that those orders had to be promptly dealt with, larger premises would be necessary—there is only one document that is not in agreement with this book that has been handed to us; that is this list of orders handed to us by Mr. Thomson, the solicitor (produced)—I think it is in Jordan's writing—it is a statement handed by Thomson, acting as solicitor to the company, to me while the winding-up proceedings were going on—it was not amongst the company's papers—it was handed to the Official Receiver—it is not dated—(MR. JUSTICE PHILLIMORE considered that this was irregular.)

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. By Exhibit 6, Messrs. Brinsmead and Sons purported to sell their business to Joseph Henry Davis, not the company—the letter attached to it applies to the £1,000 cash and £5,000 in shares, authorizing to pay the purchase-money to Jordan, and to issue to him the shares—to pay the cash and the shares too—it purports to exhaust the defendant Brinsmead's interest in the agreement; I do not know what the arrangement was, and endorsed upon the agreement I find a receipt under Jordan's hand for £700—under his agreement with the company Brinsmead was to have £350 a year—he served the company from July 22nd to December; about four and a-half months; in fact, he

got £71—I find in the minute book certain references from time to time with regard to the payment of fees to the directors, but Brinsmead got no director's fees—the whole of his receipts from the company were that £71—turning to the minute of July 22nd, I find a statement that the prospectus was approved and ordered to be issued and advertised—Mr. Brinsmead was not present when that prospectus was ordered to be issued—on August 8th cheques were drawn for £20,000 and £9,000, and at the end of that minute I find that a draft circular was produced—and it was resolved that it should be printed and circulated—at that meeting Brinsmead was not present—on August 12th there was a meeting, which reports the execution of all the documents—Brinsmead was not present—nor at the meeting of August 27th—Brinsmead was not to join the board until after the allotment—the only other document I have referred to as being signed by Mr. Brinsmead was the statement of affairs—that is correct.

Cross-examined by MR. MUM. I have examined the books for the purpose of showing the directors' fees—the directors, Dr. Jacob Bradford, Mr. E. H. Lomax, and Mr. Edwin Ballantins, received £151 amongst them, and Dr. Bradford had a quarter of £151—I believe that is the total amount he had as directors' fees—as far as I know he did not have any money at all.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I have the order of May 12th, 1896, from Kent and Cooper for thirty-six pianos—that is included in my number—there is an order for two pianos from Crane, of Liverpool of May 17th—I do not know about immediately—there is no order in the order book for one piano per week throughout the year from Crane—if it is anywhere else you can suggest where it is—I find no order for one piano per week—there is no telegram of May 17th—the statement as to the two is, I think, in Mr. Murphy's writing on the order file—these are documents from which the order book is made up—well, we have produced all the orders we have—we have made very careful search for anything like orders—I have not an order signed by Mr. Murphy for those two—Murphy is the company's traveller, I am not sure who it is written by, but evidently not by Crane—it is a memorandum, not an order—there are a number in the same writing on the file—I have no telegram ordering two immediately and one per week throughout a year—I do not think there is any reference in the minute book to your presence at any board meeting—there is no reference in the minutes of July 22nd, 1896, that you approved of Ainsworth and Bernard's prospectus which was ordered to be issued—there is nothing virtually in the minute at all—do you want to suggest that you had nothing to do with the prospectus because I think there is some evidence that you had—there is something in your writing on the prospectus that I have seen—on the draft, and the writing in front of the prospectus, too—I do not think I have anything to show that you had anything to do with printing or issuing the prospectus that was actually issued—I do not think there is any reference in the minute of August 5th, 1896, which authorise the printing and issuing of the circular letters that have been referred to, or to show that you had anything to do with it, nor any other document, so far as I am aware—I do not think there is anything in the company's records to

show that I was a party to the fixing of the consideration £17,650 paid by the company.

Re-examined. The orders I have been asked about by Jordan, are included in the orders I gave you.

GEORGE STAPYLTON BARNES . I am the Official Receiver and liquidator of the company, Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited—on the winding up of the company I got the best information I could as to the expediency of carrying on the business—it was the first thing I had to consider—I carried it on for a week first, and as well as I remember part of another week, and then I came to the conclusion that the business had been losing money, and was likely to lose more money, and then I refused to carry it on without a guarantee against loss to the creditors, and sent for Dr. Bradford, the chairman, and Mr. Thomson, who had been the solicitor of the company—in the result I discovered that I could get no guarantee, and therefore declined to carry on the business of the company—amongst the documents which have come to me I have endeavoured to find the books and accounts connected with the business of the defendant, Thomas Edward Brinsmead and his two sons, but have found none—that is not of the small company, but of the private partnership—with regard to the first company, I have not been able to find any previous books with the exception of the pass book which has been put in—in the first instance I had a somewhat lengthy search for Mr. Davies, who has been called here, and was unable to find him for a considerable time—there was a long search made for him—the address is somewhere in Finsbury Circus, so, of course, I started there—with regard to Stephenson Wilson as secretary of the company, I addressed letters to him at the offices of the company and to the care of the solicitor of the company, and those letters were sent back—I am not sure whether they came back through the Dead Letter Office or whether they were returned by Mr. Thomson, to whose care they were addressed—at all events they were not delivered to Stephenson Wilson, and again I had to wait for his appearance for some considerable time—I made search for him, but I did not find him.

Cross-examined by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. I afterwards sold parts of the plant, materials and so on at Ferdinand Street by auction—I cannot say whether in February, 1897, there were at Ferdinand Street six full compass iron-frame check-action upright grands, and about sixty instruments in the course of manufacture—what there was there is shown by the auctioneer's catalogue, which I saw at the time; also six full compass iron-frame upright grands, and about sixty instruments in the course of manufacture, etc. (reading from the catalogue)—I was told that they had realised good prices, but I am no judge of that—I got in the greater part of the book debts—I mean apart from calls—the calls are not all got in, but a large proportion are—I have here a marked catalogue provided by the auctioneer—apparently the total was £644 13s.—I am told that the book debts are in the ledger—I thing Mr. Gourlay could give a rough estimate—the plant and machinery was not sold at that auction—I said at the first that parts were not sold—the plant and machinery which was sold to the company is retained—the dynamo and the engine, and things of that kind—it is the old machinery on the

premises whiph belongs to the electric company—I think everything was sold except what bad been sold to the company originally, and that remained on the premises. I know of a meeting of shareholders on the question of carrying on the business—I was in the chair—there were shareholders there—not a very large number, perhaps seventy or eighty—that was in November, 1896—the late Dr. Bradford was there—I did not know Mr. Lomax by sight at that time, bat I believe he was there—after the discussion the shareholders were unanimously in favour of going on with the business—that is to say, a unanimous resolution was passed, but I think I ought to say that the meeting was held by the order of Mr. Justice Vaughan Williams, and he instructed me to tell the share-holders who had commenced action against the company, or who wished in any way to repudiate their holdings, that if they voted at the meeting they would do so at their peril, and I did so inform them, and nobody who wished to repudiate their shares voted at the meeting—buc subject to that limitation the resolution was quite unanimously passed—Dr. Bradford made a speech at the meeting—he was asked many questions, and I think that the answers he gave to the questions influenced the shareholders in their resolution.

Cross-examined by MR. CRAIG. At the sale, No. 116, a full-compass cottage pianoforte, fetched £15; and Nos. 117, 118, 119, 120,121, and 122 the same; No. 117 fetched ten guineas; 118, £13; 119, £12; 120, £11; 121, £11; 122, 13 guineas; and those are all of those—I really do not know whether that is a fair price under such conditions, but the auctioneers were satisfied—Nos. 191 to 197 in the same catalogue are fall-compass grand pianoforte; Nos. 191," 19 guineas; 192, £22 1s.; 193, £22 1s., 194 and 195, both the same price; 196 and 197,£19 8s. 6d. each—the order for winding-up was on January 3rd, 1896—I proceeded in the ordinary way to inquire into the company's affairs and made full examination into its promotion and formation—as Official Receiver and liquidator of a company of this sort it was my duty under the Companies' Winding-up Act of 1890 to report to the Court against any person whom I considered to have been guilty of fraud with a view to public examination—I made a report on June 5th, 1897, bat did not make in it any charge of fraud against the defendant Brinsmead.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I did not make a charge against you of fraud—I do not think you were included in the schedule.

Re-examined. I had already examined Mr. Brinsmead privately under Section 115—I was mistaken just now—Mr. Jordan is included in the schedule—I did consider he was one of the minor vendors, and I left him out partly on that ground and partly on the other—the meeting of share-holders at which, under the circumstances I have mentioned, the resolution was passed was held before the winding-up order was made, and before I knew anything about the affairs of the company—I heard the statements made at that meeting by Dr. Bradford in answer to questions—there was one of great importance which weighed very much with the shareholders, but it was not well-founded—£40,000 of the capital was paid—the £9,000 is my hands is no part of the £40,000—the £9,000 is in Court—there was no part of the £40,000 in my hands or in Courc, except

the £9,000—that is all that is left—the £40,000 paid through the bank is all absorbed except the £9,000—there was no appreciable balance.

THOMAS GOURLAY (re-examined). The book debts were returned at £735, and I have realised about £600—(MR. MUIR submitted that there was no case to go to the JURY against Ballantine. The sole evidence against him was—if, indeed, that was proved—that he was elected director of the company, and that he signed one document: the transfer of the under-lease from Jordan and Allabone, and that he received fees as a director amounting to some £38)—the directors' fees were paid by cheque, I think—I cannot trace any one sum to Ballantine—I am referring to the cash-book—they are simply entered as directors' fees in a lump sum—there are receipts by directors—I have not seen any signed or endorsed by Ballantine—I do not remember having seen any cheques, and I have certainly seen no receipts or the directors' book with signature in this case—" directors' fees," that is the way they are entered here in the ledger (produced)—this cheque is signed Ballantine and Lomax—I know his signature—the cheque is "pay cash or bearer four guineas—then 'directors' fees' on the counterfoil," dated September 18th, 1896—this cheque is dated November 12th, 1896: "pay cash four guineas, directors' fees," signed by Lomax and Ballantine and the secretary.

Witnesses for the Defence.

GERALD MURPHY . I live at 33, Effingham Road, Lee, Kent, and have been engaged for some years past in the piano trade—I have been employed as a traveller in connection with the piano business, and have travelled in different parts of this country and in Ireland—I have a connection in the trade—I acted as traveller for Messrs. Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons—I first represented them on January 14th, 1896—I had payments to get from them that had not been made to me, and I continued to get orders down to, I think, about November 15th and from a date in January—I obtained orders for their pianos in Birmingham, Bath, Cork, Dublin, Belfast, Colchester, Wisbeach, Grantham, Nottingham, Derby, Leicester, Manchester, Liverpool, Newcastle-on-Tyne, Glasgow, Bournemouth, Devonport, Plymouth, Falmouth, Torquay, Hartlepool, Aberdeen, and other places—I visited these different towns on more than one occasion—I have got here in my book a record of the different orders I obtained—I got altogether 235—from some of the persons to whom pianos were supplied I got what are called repeat orders—after they have had a piano and sold it an order for another one, that is a repeat order—I obtained orders of two or three different classes—I represented many other manufacturers, but these 235 were all Thomas Edward Brinsmead—the difference is by having different classes—a cheaper class of instrument would not clash with a higher class of another grade—I have a little knowledge of pianos—I considered that the pianos made by Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons were extremely well made and good pianos for the price that they were sold to the trade for—where I had obtained an order for a piano, and it had been delivered, and I visited the same tradespeople again, I found that the pianos met with approval—during the time I was travelling about in this country, and Ireland and Scotland as well, I found that the demand.

or enquiry for these pianos increased early in May, 1896, I was in communication with Mr. Jordan with regard to journeys I was making—I saw him at his office in Chancery Lane—I was in the country when I received a telegram to come to 116, Chancery Lane—"Important"—I came up, I think, the next day, and I found in the office Mr. Jordan and Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead, and I think Edward Brinsmead, one of the sons, and Mr. Jordan said that they were thinking of buying this company out, making a large company—he said, "We should like you to go about the country and get us any letters or as many orders as you possibly can, or at any rate letters from the people that have bought these instruments saying that they approved of them and liked them, and that in the busy season they will be able to do with many more than they have ordered"—in these envelopes addressed to him that Mr. Jordan I. gave me I sent the letters to him—I was given four days within which to get as many letters or orders as I could—and whatever I got I forwarded to Mr. Jordan—I continued to visit different towns and obtain orders for this company's pianos—the best season of the year for the piano trade in England, Ireland, and Scotland, is the winter—nearly all the people in these towns were in the trade—there might be one or two exceptions—it' I was successful in obtaining an order and the customers were satisfied, there would be a probability of orders being repeated—as regards people I saw and spoke to with regard to these Thomas Edward Brinsmead pianos there was no misapprehension in their minds as to whose pianos they were—they had no idea that they were the pianos of the old firm.

Cross-examined by the SOLICITORGENERAL. I was paid a commission and a small sum towards travelling expenses—my commission was payable at the end of the month on orders obtained—my commission was paid up to, I think, the end of October; there is still commission due to me on orders, some of which have been executed—I considered the pianos well made, and good pianos, having regard to the price—they would not be called cheap instruments; not the highest grade of instrument—they sold on an average at from £16 to £18 to the trade—among the firms I travelled for, John Brinsmead and Sons was not one—I know their instruments—the instruments of Messrs. John Brinsmead and Sons certainly have universal reputation; I have seen instruments of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons that I considered quite equal to those of John Brinsmead and Sons—I had no complaints from any of the people to whom those pianos were supplied—I remember calling on Mr. Crane, of Scotland Road, Liverpool—he is in a largish way of business—it is a company, I believe—I got an order for two pianos, from Crane on May 17th—I do not think Crane declined to me to order any more, but he wrote to Brinsmead—I called on him again, and he declined to order any more—he may have given me his reasons—it is not always so, they are not obliged to give one a reason—I do not think he condemned it as a musical instrument—I cannot recollect—it is a long time ago—anyhow, he gave me no more orders after May 17th—I think that is the last order I had from him; in fact, I think that was the only one—I had some conversation with Mr. Gourlay about my practice in selling these pianos—of course the name of Brinsmead was of great help in selling; everybody knew it in the trade.

Re-examined. I know John "Brinsmead and Sons' pianos—I believe they make many classes, and some of them are a very expensive kind indeed—Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons had, I believe, five or six classes of pianos—up to £25 to the trade would be listed, I should say, at about forty-five guineas to a private firm—these pianos, on the whole, of course, were not such a high grade instrument as the John Brinsmead; they Were medium instruments—of Course, more or less, instruments to the eye are pretty much the same—one cottage piano, except the finish, if very much like another, and one grand is like another—the tone of these pianos was very nice—to far as I remember, nobody ever gave me, as a reason for stopping orders or refusing orders, any objection to the quality of the instruments—in fact, it was almost the reverse opinion; the general opinion was, amongst the trade, that they were exceedingly well-made, good pianos for the money—they were exhibited at the Agricultural Hall at Islington—they would be seen by a great number of people there—I think I did hear of pianoforte dealers in the country having received communications from John Brinsmead and Sons—of course some large houses in the country might not care for the John Brinsmead piano—they might be handling some other high grade instruments—I think it was easier to get Orders in October than in May—I found it was extending really—I should not say that winter was the season for getting orders, but it is the season when instruments are sold by retail houses—trade orders are really taken in the summer—I think I got for Thomas Edward Brinsmead fifty-two orders in May—they were not for delivery immediately, but at different periods of the year—I had begun working on January 14th—I think I counted thirteen orders taken by me in February—I do not know of any other traveller for T. E. Brinsmead while I was travelling; my agreement with Messrs. Brinsmead was a contract to employ myself only as the sole representative—I got my commission in the commencement, not on orders executed, but on orders given—I was paid monthly—I collected accounts—I cannot say how many of the 231 orders that I took in were executed—I did not keep an account of that.

Cross-examined by Jordan. I was told that you were the secretary of the company—I do not think I sent the orders to you—I sent them to the works—Crane certainly did not order through me two for immediate delivery, and one per week throughout the year, I did not send you a communication to that effect—I do not think I received in reply a letter from you acknowledging the receipt of my telegram, stating that Crane, of Liverpool, required two pianos immediately, and one per week throughout the year.

MATTHEW COOPER . I am one of the firm of Kent and Cooper, of Nottingham—I ordered about thirty or forty of Thomas Edward Brinsmead's pianos through Mr. Murphy—they were of different prices—some of them were delivered to June; about thirty—I found a ready sale for them—I have a good knowledge of the piano trade—I sell between 700 and 800 in the course of a year—if pianos of the same kind had continued to be delivered to me I could have found a sale for them.

Cross-examined by MR. AVORY. These orders were given some time

in May, and the pianos delivered between May and November—they bad on them "Thomas Edward Brinsmead, Limited"—nothing else—I believe it was "Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited."

Friday, May 6th, 1898.

THOMAS GOURLKY (re-examined). It is Mr. Ballantine's signature on the contracts for paid-up shares to Davis—I know Dr. Bradford's writing—that is not here—Lomax and Ballantine signed as directors, and Wilson as secretary—in this Bradford and Lomax signed as directors, and Wilson as secretary

CHARLES MCCANN . I carry on business in the piano trade at Osbaston, Derby—I have a considerable business there—I sold about twelve pianos in September last—that would not be my average sale through the year, but during the piano season—I purchased some of these pianos of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons—I gave orders for them through the traveller, Murphy, and had an opportunity of seeing and judging of their character—they were good value for the money—I was able to sell them quite easily, and if their supply had continued I should have continued to do business with them—seven pianos were delivered to me of Classes 1 and 3—Class 3 is dearer than Class 1—the seven pianos were good value in my opinion, apart from any questions of the name—I should buy them at the price irrespective of the name to sell them with any name on them—my own name at the price—I believe I had some on order to come at the time the company ceased to do business.

Cross-examined. The name Brinsmead is very well-known in connection with pianos—the name of Brinsmead on these pianos was a help, of course, I cannot say otherwise.

EDMUND GIGNEY . I was a partner of Mr. Russell—I have had twenty-six years' experience in the piano trade in London—I was manager of a very important music firm; I resigned there—I have known of these pianos manufactured by Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Soups—I have personal practical experience in connection with the making of pianos, apart from my knowledge of the tirade—I have had an opportunity of forming an opinion of the value of the pianos made by Thomas Edward Brinamead and Sons—they are very good value, and they are very well made—I think they are pianos that would meet with a ready sale in the trade, apart from any name on them, as pianos without a name—I say they are good value; I should not mind putting my name on them—the Russell I was in partnership with was the Russell of Stanhope Street, Euston Road.

Cross-examined. I am not a pianoforte maker now—I have been—at the time Mr. Murphy saw me I was acting as a piano dealer—he did not appoint me agent for these pianos—the name of Brinsmead on the piano would help because the name is so well-known in the trade—Brinsineads' name is as well-known in connection with pianos as any other name, and a pianos made by John Brinsmead and Sons is generally spoken of as a Brinsmead in the trade—with any piano, whatever the workmanship may be, bearing the name of Brinsmead, the sale would be very much helped—I bought four of these pianos—I sold them.

WILLLIAM HERBERT RUSSELL . I carry on business at 7, London Road, Leicester—in the piano trade—I have a considerable business there—I sell on the average, about twelve to fifteen pianos a week, all the

year round—I am thoroughly familiar with everything connected with the pianoforte trade and the different makers of pianos, and so on—I had in my possession three of these pianos, manufactured by Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons—they were very good value for the price, apart from any question of name, as pianos—I knew the firm of John Brinsmead perfectly—from the opportunity I had of judging of these pianos, and what their value was, I had the agency for the sale of them at Leicester—in my business I could have sold, I dare say, one a week.

Cross-examined. I paid £15 10s. for Class I; that is cash; and £16 10s. for Class 2—I had only those two classes—the firm of John Briusmead and Sons is known as Brinsmead—those I had I sold as Thomas Edward—they had got Thomas Edward on, and I pointed it out—I do not think the pianos made by John Brinsmead and Sons are known generally as Brinsmeads particularly; they have the initial "J" on the pianos—they would be spoken of as Brinsmeads—I do not think the name of "Brinsmead" on these pianos would be a very great help to the sale, because the name of "Thomas Edward" being in so full would give the idea that it was not the old firm—the pianos I had also got on the year when they were made—the old firm would only have on the year when they started, "Established" so and so—I was appointed agent for Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Co. at Leicester—the name of Brinsmead would have been an assistance to help the sale of these pianos, but taking the name of Thomas Edward in full I mean to say it would throw the public off their guard—those I sold to I told them they were not the original firm—I told them it was Thomas Edward Brinsmead, and had no connection with the old firm of John Brinsmead—I said that on every occasion that I sold a piano—I only had three—I said, "It is not one of the old firm's"—with all that, the name of Brinsmead would help—the plate was inside—on the side—burnt or stamped in.

Re-examined. It was on the frame of the instrument—inside the case—so that when you opened it you would see it—on the side—on the inside of the shutter, so that when you opened it you saw it—I pointed put to people that they were pianos made by the new firm—there was no concealment or pretence in the matter—I did not find any difficulty in selling these pianos, because the price was so different—in regard to the tone of the piano it was very satisfactory—had I been able to go on, I think I would have been able to sell these instruments, taking into consideration the fact that the people who would buy would know they were Thomas Edward's and not John's—when I sold a piano I always opened it so that they would see the date—after that it would be only for tuning or repairing a piano that it would be seen again—as a rule they would not open it again—those I bought were cottages—when you opened the piano so as to get at the key-board, simply lifting up the cover of the Key-board, you could see the name "Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited" on a tablet—you would see the scroll, or whatever it was, with the name "Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons" on it—everybody who played the piano would see it—it would open in front—the date was put on the side inside the case—you would only see that with pulling the top door off.

ALFRED SQUIRE . I live in Camden Town and I am a piano scale setter—I have a thorough knowledge of everything connected with pianos—a large experience—I had the opportunity of forming my opinion as to the quality and tone of these pianos made by Thomas Edward Brinsmead—the quality of tone as a musical instrument was good.

Cross-examined. They are a medium class instrument—an instrument that would be bought for the trade for about £18, that is in some class the Brinsmeads made, and there was a higher class.

Re-examined. I work as a scale setter for nearly every firm in London—I have very a large experience throughout the world.

JAMES LEAKS . I am a chartered accountant and a fellow of the Institute of Actuaries—I have been in practice for many years as an I actuary and accountant at 85, Gracechurch Street—I have been accountant to the Consolidated Contracts Corporation from the date of its establishment, and have with my clerks kept the accounts of the corporation—I have prepared from those accounts a statement of the expenses of the formation of Edward Thomas Brinsmead and Sons—a sum of £7,500 was paid to the Consolidated Exploration and Finance Company for underwriting these shares—the payment of that amount appears in the banking account—I have traced the cheque in the passbook—£4,500 were paid for advertising in respect of that promotion—I have distinguished that £250 was paid for the Investor—I have the items which go to make up the advertising, the prospectus, and so on—they include the large payments made to the firm of Horncastle, the advertising agents—beside those there are stockbrokers' fees to the amount of £262 10s., stamps £440, and some petty expenses of about £45—then there was a registration fee of £130 5s.—that is not included in the stamps, and a sum of £850 paid to Mr. Jackson for commission, paid in two cheques—deducting from the amounts received in the two cheques for £35,000 odd, those expenses, £19,600, from which £9,000 is to be deducted for the guarantee interest, there is left a balance of £10,000—the net profit was £19,600 as the money paid out to Brinsmeads on account of the purchase—£2,000 was paid to Brinsmead and Jordan in different amounts—all these amounts were paid virtually to Jordan—the whole £2,000, indifferent amounts, £300, £50, £700, £50, £370, £150, £100, and £230; they make £2,000—there is a balance of £19,000, out of which £9,000 was paid in to meet the guaranteed interest, which would mean a balance of profit of about £10,000—I have checked all those disbursements in the books of the corporation, and traced the cheques for them.

Cross-examined by MR. LAWSON WALTON. In addition to the books have become acquainted with Mr. Kaye's position in relation to the corporation—he appears as one of the directors—he used to receive a fee "by way of salary—I forget whether one guinea or two guineas a week—it went under the name of "directors' fees"—in the ordinary way, so much for a meeting—it was drawn as directors' fees—it amounted to £2 2s. a week—he was virtually a clerk, and acting as such in relation to the other directors, Mr. Ainsworth and Mr. Bernard.

Cross-examined by MR. NORMAN CRAIG. The money paid to Brinsmead and Jordan appears as "cash on account of purchase"—in the account I have made up it appears in the books as cash on account of purchase—

I have not endeavoured to trace it—Jordan received the money, I believe—£7,500 was paid for underwriting—the Consolidated Exploration and Finance Company—it was a distinct body with a large body of shareholders—the Consolidated Contracts Corporation had some interest in the business like an ordinary shareholder—I cannot tell you to what extent one company was interested in the other—this £7,500 did not go from one pocket into another.

Cross-examined by the SOLICITORGENERAL. This letter, Exhibit No. 1, is a letter from Mr. Kaye to the witness Davis asking him to call—it is dated from the Exploration Company, whose offices were at 15, Queen Street—Mr. Kaye was a director of the Exploration Company as well as of the other company—Mr. Lomax was not a director of both—Mr. Lomax was a director of the Consolidated and Exploration and Finance but not of the Consolidated Contracts Association—I believe they had the same offices, they shared them—they had the same outer office for the clerks, but a different board room or private office for the two companies—they had a joint staff of clerks—the inside two rooms were, one side for the Contracts Corporation and the other for the Consolidate Exploration and Finance—the doors were labelled separately—there were brass plates on the folding doors—the office outside was for the joint staff of clerks—the Consolidated Exploration and Finance was on one side, and the Consolidated Contracts on the other on the folding door—I believe Ainsworth was interested in the Exploration Company to a certain extent—he was also interested to a certain extent in the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—the principal men at the Consolidate Contracts Corporation were Mr. Ainsworth and Mr. Bernard—they are joined together—the principal men of the Exploration Company were the directors, who were, I think, Lomax, Brown, and Kaye, and Jervoise as well, but I do not know much about the directors of that company—a Dr. White was, I believe—I never attended their meetings—I believe the two companies had the same secretary—I kept the accounts of both—Bernard would have a connection with it as being a shareholder in the Consolidated Contracts Corporation which held shares as a company in the Consolidated Exploration—I have no idea how many—I do not think, until June of last year, the Contracts Corporation held nearly all the shares in the Exploration Company—they held £10,000 in deferred shares—I cannot answer from memory how many ordinary shares the Contracts Corporation held—they held very largely—till June of last year there were shareholders in the Exploration Company other than the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I should think there were ninety other shareholders besides the Contracts Corporation—I have not the least idea from memory how many they held.

Re-examined. The Consolidated Contracts Corporation has been in existence about two years—about the same time I think as the other company—the fourth annual meeting may nave been in May, 1897—I have had to do with it for a couple of years—one of the directors of the Consolidated Exploration Company was Sir Arthur Jervoise—Mr. Martin and Mr. Reynolds have been directors lately, I believe—I thought we were dealing with the directors in 1896—Dr. White was formerly a director—Mr. Bernard and Mr. Ainsworth were not directors of the Exploration Company, so far as I know—I never attend the meetings—so far as I know

they had only do with it through being directors of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation, which held shares—they held deferred shares, I think—the Exploration Company has been a financial success—I have heard it has paid year by year good and substantial dividends—the Consolidated Exploration and Finance Company does, the business of underwriting—there are a large number of shareholders—they did that business in the present case, and that money was paid to the corporation—it was, I know, the banking account of the Contracts Corporation—Mr. Bernard and Mr. Ainsworth, so far as I can find out from the examination of the accounts, did not draw' out for themselves any part of the money that was paid in these two cheques of £20,000 and £15,000—they have not drawn anything on their own behalf since the Brinsmead affair—since August, I think, £20,000—whatever the date is, since the payment of those two large cheques into the account they have not drawn for themselves any money at all.

By the SOLICITORGENERAL. Ainsworth was a shareholder in the Consolidated Contracts Corporation, I believe—I have not seen the share register—I understood that he was a shareholder to a large extent—the Contracts Corporation did not pay a dividend—the shareholders in the Contracts Corporation were the subscribers to the articles of association—I do not know how the profits were divided among them—there were only seven, who subscribed to the memorandum of association—I was accountant to this company—I had nothing to do with the share ledgers—the people who were the seven shareholders were not all salaried officers—I do not think any of them were—the only dividend that was paid was drawn by, one cheque, so far as I can remember, to dividend account, and join it was divided I do not know—it will be in the cheque book—I do not remember the amount, but it was before the Brinsmead case—there was a dividend before the Brinsmead affair, but there was not one after—I do not know who were the seven shareholders, and how many shares each held—I have not seen the share ledger—I have seen the memorandum and articles, but I do not remember their names—(Sir Edward Clarke here stated that, except jor formal purposes, Mr. Ainsworth and Mr. Bernard were the Consolidated Contracts Corporation)—there were very large sums, £12,000, £20,000, £10,000, and so on at the end of each week to their credit with the City Bank—those sums have been spent in the regular way of business—the cheques are there—so far as I know nothing has been drawn by Mr. Ainsworth or Mr. Bernard since August, 1896—they used to draw salaries between them up to August, 1896—they have not drawn any salaries since that date and no profits—all this money has gone in the regular way of business—investments, I believe, and advances—I can only tell by the books to whom and for what purpose it has gone.

by SIR EDWARD CLARKE. The cheques show the accounts on which the moneys have been paid—the Consolidated Contracts Corporation, or Mr. Ainsworth and Mr. Bernard as the Consolidated Contracts Corporation, were connected with various public companies—with regard to which, and on which they were expending sums of money Iron time to time—all payments were made by cheque in every instance, and, so far as I know, every cheque specified the purpose for which it was drawn—they are to order as a rule;, some were to bearer, crossed cheques.

HENRY JOHN BATT . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Thomson and Co., solicitors—they were solicitors to this company—I am a solicitor—in the month of July, 1896, I attended at the office of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation and there saw Mr. Ainsworth—I am able by reference to something else to fix the date in July—July 10th—on that occasion I had some conversation with Mr. Ainsworth, and had handed to me this document—it is in Jordan's writing, and was shown to me on July 10th—it was handed to me at a later period—on September 17th or 24th, I cannot fix the date exactly, but one of those dates—on that date, as representing Messrs. Thomson and Co., I attended a meeting of Messrs. Brinsmead and Sons at the offices in Cannon Street—on that occasion I saw this document again—Dr. Bradford handed it to me with other papers for the purpose of checking Mr. Murphy's account—then it remained in my possession for some time—it was photographed in December, 1896, and on July 22nd, 1897, I handed it to the Official Receiver. (This was the document with the list of orders in hand.)

Cross-examined by the SOLICITORGENERAL. I was with Mr. Thomson, the solicitor to the company of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons—he was acting for the Consolidated Contracts Corporation, I fancy, in some matters—I do not know—not for the Exploration Company—I am not aware that he attended to the bringing out of this business of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited—I was in his office at the time—the name of Mr. Thomson appears as a witness in some of the documents—I am not sure if all the agreements were prepared in our office—I can only speak of what was under my own notice—I merely attend to the litigious part of the work, 'and not to the conveyancing, or matters of that kind—I appeared to oppose the winding-up—I do not know anything about the formation of the company—I was present at meetings of the company of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, from August—I fancy it would be the end of August, I cannot speak definitely; the only date in my mind is August 18th as the date of the first meeting I attended—the directors who attended then were Dr. Bradford, Mr. Ballantine, and Mr. Lomax—I am not sure about the Brinsmeads—from that time I attended regularly during Mr. Thomson's absence; he was away for about two months—the directors who attended on those occasions were those I have named—they were there, I think, invariably—one might have been absent atone meeting—Thomas Edward Brinsmead and his two sons attended the meetings towards the latter part of the period—from the business which appears to have taken place on August 27th, I should think—I was not present on that day—I do not keep a diary regularly—I have some notes at this time—I have not got them here—unfortunately, I am not a very methodical man—particulars for costs are largely taken from the papers; they are not like conveyancing work—probably our charges against the company would not be so much per meeting, but a fee to cover a period, yearly or half-yearly; it would not be an attendance as upon a client—I did not attend to the circular of September 1st—I am speaking from memory—I may be wrong in my initial date—my impression was, as I said, August 19th, but I could soon ascertain that—my recollection is that it was about August 19th that Mr. Thomson left England—he went on the Continent

for some two months; I may be wrong in that date as August 19th, but it was the first meeting after he went away that I attended—I gave August 19th as probably the date—I have not the slightest recollection of attending the meeting on August 29th, and therefore I think I must be wrong n my former date—on the 28th I must have been there—yes, I think that was my attendance; it was either mine or Mr. Thomson's; my difficulty culty is this; I cannot fix the date at which I began attending these meetings, but it is to be fixed by the day Mr. Thomson left—it was not my attendance on August 28th—Mr. Thomson probably attended—my difficulty is to fix when he left; it is a matter of memorial technical, which is a ticket by which you can fix your mind—I have no ticket which gives the date when Mr. Thomson left England; merely that I attended the meetings after he left—I know by memoria technical that I attended meetings when he left England, but I cannot find out when he left—I have known what has happened on certain dates, but I cannot say when he left England—I do not think Mr. Thomson is in court; he is not abroad—I expect he is at his office—I have not seen him here today—it was August or September when he went abroad; my impression is it was August—I have seen Mr. Davis who was called as a witness—not in connection with this business I think—my recollection of Mr. Davis was first at the Mansion House, that was the first time I believe I saw him—I looked in, I was one of the public—my recollection is that I saw him for the first time then, I knew the name, and that was the first time I think I saw him—I did not see any instruments executed by Mr. Davis, to some of which Mr. Thomson was a witness—I had heard of him before I went to the Mansion House, and I understood he was a nominee of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I knew that he was the purchaser and the vendor of this business—from the proceedings in the litigation in the winding-up and the Chancery action—not before that—almost immediately before the winding-up the litigation began, and then the matter came into my hands, and during the proceedings various evidence transpired—I cannot tell the date without referring to the papers, and then I should find out—he was nominee and vendor—I did not know anything of what was going on with reference to the formation of this company in our office—the signature to this letter is that of a clerk who used to be in the City office, I think—I know nothing about it—it is addressed to Mr. Davis, asking him to call—I know Mr. Crocker, a solicitor—I know he was the solicitor to Mr. Davis—I do not know when—it is difficult to say if he was at the time—I could not fix a date now—I remember meeting Mr. Crocker first, but I cannot fix the date of that occasion—I saw Mr. Stephenson Wilson, the secretary to the company—I did not know him in July, 1896, probably later—I fix that in this way, that later in the proceedings he swore an affidavit, and I think that the time he came to swear that affidavit was the first time I saw him—I knew nothing whatever of the Investor newspaper—I heard of it in the proceedings for the first time—I do not think the company was brought out in the office—I know this business was bought nominally by Davis, and sold nominally to Wilson for £76,000—as far as our office was concerned from what I found out afterwards very little was lone—all that was done was that agreements were prepared, and the assignments of the property—that was all, I believe—the Articles of Association were not

drawn in the office—this is a letter to S. Wilson, Esq., with my signature asking him to call to-morrow and swear an affidavit—it is dated July 3rd, 1896, probably that call was the first time I met him—I cannot say now what that call of Wilson's on July 3rd was about—I do not know if that is a correct date—the heading of the letter, is "re Brinsmead"—it might be 1897; it is typewritten and typewriters are not infallible—my memory does not help me about this—I do not think there was any litigation re-Brinsmead at that date—part of the date may be correct, it may be the month or the year—the century is right—I do not say there is a mistake—I said there might be—I cannot think what affidavit there would be for Wilson to swear at that date—I do not think the heading in a mistake—he did make an affidavit in this matter and I remember it well, but I could not tell you about the date—I was not solicitor to the Brinsmeads before they were a company or firm—I had nothing to do with the old Chancery proceedings—before the commencement of litigation Mr. Thomson attended to the matter himself, and he would know all about this and all About Davis and these agreements, and so on—I am still with him—with regard to the action, I had the conduct practically of the proceedings taken by Messrs. John Brinsmead and Sons about the injunction against the company Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons—I knew of their taking proceedings at the end of July, 1896, to restrain the company from advertising in such a way as to lead the public in any way to think that their pianos were John Brinsmead and Sons—it was heard early in August—I knew all about that—I was attending to the matter—that application was heard on the 8th, then on the 11th, and then on the 12th there was judgment—I cannot be sure about the earlier days—my belief is the proceedings had been commenced at the end of July, July 28th, but I cannot be sure about the date—these proceedings were pending or being heard on August 8th—on August 6th there was a directors meeting, and there is a minute: "The solicitor reported that he had arranged with the vendor's solicitor for the immediate completion of the purchase"—I did not know anything about that—Mr. Thomson was fully aware of the pipers—I was acting in communication with him and under his directions in attending to these proceedings—I did not know that on August 8th arrangements were being made for the immediate completion, instead of waiting till September 1st—I first heard that on September 1st, I think.

Re-examined. I did not know anything of this matter till it had entered into the stage of litigation—the litigation was towards the end of July with John Brinsmead and Sons in respect of the use of the name, and that was being contested by the company, and it was appealed, and I attended to that—apart from that litigation, I had nothing to do with Mr. Wilson—whatever the date of that letter may be it had reference to the litigation by John Brinsmead and Sons—when I came to see the papers I saw the names of Davis and Wilson and Son—I found in the transaction of sale and the purchase of the business that Davis had been used as a nominee of the Contracts Corporation and Wilson in the same way as nominee of the purchasing company.

By MR. LAWSON WALTON. From time to time I had occasion to go to the office of the Consolidated Contracts Corporation—I have seen Mr.

Kaye there—there is a clerk's office occupied by Bernard and Ainsworth—Kaye sat in the outside office, between the two private offices, among the other clerks—he seemed to me to be discharging clerk's duties, secretarial largely.

By Jordan. My firm were acting as solicitors in the Chancery proceedings—an affidavit was put in about the 60 men employed at the works—I do not know who made the affidavit; it might have been made by Thomas Edward Brinsmead.

FRANCIS JAMES KEMP . I live at Barnsbury—I am a pianoforte fitter—I have been engaged in that occupation for ten years—in January, 1895, I entered the employment of the defendant, Thomas Edward Brinsmead, and continued in his employment until the business was turned into a company, and down to November, 1896, to the winding-up—I was working in the first place at the Bartholomew Works, Bartholomew Road—Brinsmead worked with us, and his two sons also worked with us—there were other men also engaged in the work of making pianos at Bartholomew Road—I remember before the premises at Ferdinand Street were taken—I went to Ferdinand Street—when I first entered their employment, in January, 1895, we were making slightly over one a week, and it increased to four a week—the business was increasing—I remember a number of men being employed to get the Ferdinand Street premises Into order for our work—that was towards the end of July, 1896—I saw between twenty and thirty men there getting the premises ready, I suppose, as nearly as I can recollect—as the premises were got into condition to be used the men commenced piano work there—when we removed from Bartholomew Road to Ferdinand Street at the end of July I should think there were between sixteen and eighteen instruments, finished and unfinished—there was sufficient room at Bartholomew Road to do the work we were engaged upon—there was not sufficient room at Bartholomew Road to make as many as sixteen pianos at one time; as regards the width, there were sixteen to eighteen instruments in stock at the time we removed—we could not have made sixteen in one week—when I got into the Ferdinand Street premises I continued working there—at the Ferdinand Street premises there was sufficient material for the amount that was being turned out at the time—when I commenced work at Ferdinand Street the work increased—the men employed there were skilled workmen—as the work increased there men were taken on one at a time, and when the company was wound up I should judge there were forty or fifty men, including one or two porters, and also one or two boys—they were taken on from time to time, so that at last there were as many as forty or fifty men working at the same time, including two or three boys—I was working at the time the pianos were being prepared for the Musical Exhibition at the Agricultural Hall—the men were working overtime at that time—I never worked overtime in my own branch—I know of one man working overtime on pianos for the exhibittion—I worked the ordinary hours myself—there was always work for me to do, barring the slack time during the summer; it is necessary in most pianoforte trades.

Cross-examined by the SOLICITORGENERAL. This exhibition, when one man worked overtime, to the best of my recollection, was either in June

or July, 1896—the work stopped at Bartholomew Road when we removed to Ferdinand Street—work was not going on at Bartholomew Road and Ferdinand Street at the same time—everything was taken from Bartholomew Road to Ferdinand Street—we never had work of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons going on at the same time at Bartholomew Road and Ferdinand Street to my knowledge—at the Bartholomew Road works, as far as my knowledge goes, there were about fourteen men employed at the same time, including Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead and his sons.

Re-examined. There were as many people as could be conveniently employed at these works—the works at Ferdinand Street were much larger and more convenient for going on with the work—at the time I was at Ferdinand Street there was sufficient room for the work that was being done—the people who had been at Bartholomew Road were afterwards started and employed at Ferdinand Street.

FREDERICK JOHNSON . I live at Chelsea—I am a pianoforte maker—I have been some years at the work—in February, 1896, I was employed at the manufactory at Bartholomew Road as a finisher and regulator—employed there were a number of other men, skilled workmen—Brinsmead and his sons all worked at the business and there were boys also employed there—while I was there was sufficient work for me to do—I took part in all the pianos that were made, from the time I started till the time I left—I left in the beginning of October—there were ample materials on the premises for the making of the pianos—the business during the time I was there was an increasing business, I believe—I went to Ferdinand Street—I should say, when I left, there were about thirty skilled workmen employed in the work at Ferdinand Street—there was plenty of work for them to do there, so far as I could see—there were other people employed as well, boys, and so on, and porters—when I went into the employment first at Bartholomew Road, including Mr. Brinsmead, I think fourteen shilled workmen were employed there—the number of skilled workmen had increased to the number I mention.

Jordan produced the following letter, which, owing to the absence of a witness called by Jordan, the SOLICITORGENERAL consented to put in for him:—" 116, Chancery Lane, April 24th, 1896, to Mr. Thomas Edward Brinsmead, Mr. Edward George Stanley Brinsmead, and Mr. Sydney Walter Brinsmead. I, Francis Richard Jordan, of 116, Chancery Lane, W. C. acknowledge to hold 3,850 shares, numbered 2,151 to 6,000, both inclusive and credited the books of Thomas Edward Brinsmead and Sons, Limited, fully paid-up as trustee on behalf of the creditors, of Thomas Edward Brinsmead, Edward George Stanley Brinsmead, and Sydney Walter Brinsmead. Signed—Francis Richard Jordan. Witness—George Henry James, 37, Rotherfield Street."

MR. JUSTICE PHILLIMORE withdrew the tenth Count from the consideration of the JURY, as he considered there watt no evidence upon it; the eleventh and twelfth Counts were left as against Ballantine, Ainsworth and Bernard.

BRINSMEAD and JORDAN GUILTY on the first nine Counts;


BALLANTINE GUILTY on eleventh and twelfth Counts.

The JURY recommended Brinsmead and Jordan to mercy. BRINSMEAD— Six Months' Hard Labour; BALLANTINE— Three Months' Hard Labour;

KAYE— Fifteen Months' Hard Labour;

JORDAN— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour;

AINSWORTH and BERNARD— Five Years' Penal, Servitude each.


Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18980425-336

336. JOHN NICHOLSON and GEORGE HENRY BULLED Obtaining from Alexander George Duncan Glenny and Samuel Glenny, divers boots, shoes, leather, boot-trees, and shoemakers' tools, value £60, by false pretences, with intent to defraud.

MR. HARRISON, for the prosecution, offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .

Reference Number: t18980425-337

337. WILLIAM STOCKDALE (21), and ARTHUR READ (16) , Robbery with violence upon Nanda Khan, and stealing £6, his money.

MR. HARRISON Prosecuted.

HELMORE HELMORE (Interpreted). I am a seaman—on Saturday, April 9th, I left the s.s. Malta in the Royal Albert Docks with Nanda Khan—I had had breakfast at 9 a.m., and went out of the dock to the Connaught Road Tavern with Khan. Khan produced from his left-hand trousers £6 in paper and showed it to the barman—the potman motioned that he could not change it, and Khan screwed it up and put it in his left hand trowsers' pocket—there were a number of men in the public-house.

NANDA KHAN (Interpreted.) I am a waterman employed on the s.s. Malta, which was laying in the Royal Albert Dock—I left the dock about 12 o'clock—I had £6 in a paper in my left trowsers' pocket—I went with Helmore to the Connaught Road Tavern—a great many men were there—the prisoners were standing at the counter a little distance away—I said to the potman "Bombay," and pulled my money from my pocket in paper and showed it to him—the prisoners could see it because I had it in my hand—the potman told me to put it away or I might lose it—I put it back in my left trowsers' pocket—I went back to go on board the ship again—a short distance down the dock Stockdale stopped me and said "Salaam," meaning "How do you do"—I said "Salaam," and kept on walking—then Stockdale caught me by the wrist—I shouted "Police"—Stockdale put his hand over my mouth—Read put his hand in my pocket and took out the paper with £6—both prisoners went away—Read tore my left trousers' pocket to get the money—as the prisoners ran away I went to search for a policeman—Trunbull and Dennis came up—I made them understand by English, Hindustani, and by motions that I had lost £6—I complained to the police—I went with a policeman to the Central Buffet at the Royal Albert Docks—I saw forty or fifty people—I pointed out to the constable Stockdale with a scar on his forehead, and Read drinking at a table—the constable took them to Royal Albert Dock Police-station and they were charged.

HERBERT GEORGE DENNIS . I am a clerk—I live in the Leyton High Road, Stratford—on Saturday, April 9th, between 12 and 1 o'clock I

was in the Steam Ship office, between sheds No. 31 and No. 33, Royal Albert Pocks—I heard cries and saw two men struggling with the prosecutor—Read is one—the other was the same stature as Stockdale, but I cannot swear to his face—they struggled with the Lascar, turned him over with his heels in the air and his head to the ground—I walked towards them—they left him and walked past me towards the opening into the road which leads to the Central Buffet—prosecutor said he had lost £6.

WILLIAM DYSART . I am foreman to the Ocean Steamship Company—on April 9th, about 12.40, I was in the office between Sheds 31 and 33 and heard a cry and saw the prosecutor and two white men struggling—the white men had the prosecutor with his heels up in the air—the white men were about the same statures as the prisoners, but I had not a good view of their faces—the prosecutor said he had lost £6—I saw the struggling about twenty-five feet away—when I went out the white men Released the prosecutor and walked leisurely through the opening into the roadway which leads to the Central Buffet—I followed them as far as No. 27 shed, about three sheds along—I had to return to the office—I picked out two men about the same stature who were not the men—Read had a surgical band on at the identification which he had not at the outrage.

CHRISTIAN TRUNBULL (Dock Constable 258). On Saturday, April 9th, I was on duty in the Albert Dock—Khan complained to me in broken English, and I went with him into the Central Buffet bar—I saw forty or fifty men there—he pointed out the prisoners sitting at a table—he pointed to Stockdale, clasped his left wrist, put his hand over his mouth, and said "Police!"—he pointed to Read, and inserted his hand in and out of his left trowsers' pocket, from which I understood that Read had taken the money from his pocket, which was torn about two inches—he said he had lost £6—I charged the prisoners—Stockdale said, "A mistake has been made"—they were taken into custody and charged.

Cross-examined by Prisoner Stockdale. Another witness did not identify you—he said he did not see your faces.

THOMAS HENRY SPENCE (Dock Constable 213). I went with Trunbull into the Central Buffet, and saw the prisoners arrested—I went to the station—I there asked the prosecutor who took the money—he pointed to Read—I asked Read if he had any money on him—he said "Yes," and took from his left waistcoat pocket 1s. 9d., and said that was all he had—I was present when Inspector French found a sovereign between his drawers and the skin of his right leg—on Stockdale was found sir pennies.

WILLIAM FRENCH (Dock Police Inspector). I was called from the Royal Victoria Docks by Trunbull—I said to the prisoners, "You know what you are charged with?"—Stockdale said "Yes; that b——s—black said we took £6, and he ought to be drowned"—on being charged they made no reply—on Stockdale was found six pennyworth of coppers, and on Read 1s. 9d.—I further searched, and a sovereign dropped from head—I said, "How do you account for this money?"—Read said, "I took £3, which I had from the Victoria Dock yesterday, to the Wave Coffee-house, and I took the £3 back again this morning"—I said, "Where is the other?" £2—he said, "I gave the other £2 to a woman I

sometimes live with of the name of Williams"—I inquired, and found he bad taken £3, but Williams denied that he gave her £2.

Evidence for Read.

JOSEPH TRUSCOTT . I am manager of the Wave Lodging House, Victoria Road—I know Read as West—he lodged with me from February 12th to. March 26th—on April 9th I handed him £3 of his which I had.

Read, in his defence, stated that they were drinking in the Central Buffet when the prosecutor and, two constables came and took them to the station, where they were charged with the robbery and searched, but only six coppers were found on Stockdale and £1 1s. 9d. on himself.

Stockdale, in his defence, said that he had only the six coppers and was waiting for a booty having had to attend the hospital, and the witnesses could not swear to him.

GUILTY —STOCKDALE** then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of felony in June, 1895, at West Ham— Eighteen Months' Hard Labour. READ— Six Month's Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18980425-338

338. GEORGE DREW (26) , Stealing £15 of William Henry Pettit.

MR. WARBURTON Prosecuted.

MARY CALLAGHAN . I live at South Grove, Walthamstow—I was in the employ of Mr. Pettit, a greengrocer—on August 22nd last I was in charge of the house with my nine children—I went to bed with my children at half-past eleven—I heard a noise and heard somebody come up the stairs—it was the prisoner—he went into the governor's room—I knew him by seeing him about the place—he said, "you don't want to come downstairs, there is not anything the matter"—the child said, "I will tell my daddy when he comes home, Boss"—he went by that name—he then went down, and I went down and bolted the front door—I then heard somebody come in at the front door; I did not see who it was—the prisoner had a stick in his hand—I afterwards saw it on a table in the kitchen—city master came in about a quarter to twelve, and I made a communication to him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. You first went to Johnson's room and knocked at his door—there was no answer—the child said, "Is that you, Boss?" the prisoner said, "Yes," and that he was going to sleep in the stable.

WILLIAM HENBY PETTIT . I am a greengrocer—the prisoner had been in my employ some time back, he then went away—on Sunday, August 22nd, I was out with my wife—I returned home about a quarter to twelve—the last witness was in the shop parlour with the child—they were frightened and crying—they were in their night dresses—they made a communication to me—I made a search and missed over £15 from the fire-place in the front room—it was covered with shavings—I had been in the habit of putting money there—the prisoner used to be in the place, in fact, "he has helped me to count the money—I am not aware that he had ever seen me take money from there—I found that the £15 had gone—I had seen it safe at a quarter to nine—I put it there when my wife and I were going out—when I found the money had gone I went to the prisoner's lodgings at a coffee house—he wag not there next morning about half-past twelve—I then went to the Police-station, gave information, and applied for a warrant for his

Arrest—I saw him one night in Thames Street, about five months after he had been away, some time in December—I told him I should give him in charge for stealing my money—he replied, "I never had your money"—I said, "I shall lock you up"—he begged and cried, and some man there said, "You won't get your money—let him run and give him a chance"—I afterwards saw him in Covent Garden Market on Saturday—he was taken on the Monday—I did not take any steps to get him arrested—I left it to the police.

WILLIAM SERVEST (Detective). On April 11th I saw the prisoner in the road and took him to the station and told him the charge, and he said, "I deny it."

The prisoner, in his defence, stated that, finding he was locked out of his lodgings, he went to the prosecutor's house, where he had been employed, intending to sleep in the stable.

GUILTY He PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction in March, 1894— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.


Before Mr. Justice Channell.

Reference Number: t18980425-339

339. JOHN TURNER (22) , For the manslaughter of Robert James Ando.

MR. H. AVORY and MR. A. GILL Prosecuted; and MR. PINFOLD and MR. GUBBINS Defended.

FRANCIS ANDO . I live at 29, Hartville Road, Plumstead, and work in the Royal Arsenal—the deceased, Robert James Ando, was my brother; he was a lighterman—I last saw him alive on March 31st at 7.30 in the Distillery public-house—he was not drunk, and he was not sober—I after wards saw his body at the mortuary.

Cross-examined. He lived in a street running out of High Street, not in the direction of the Standard public-house and Woolwich Ferry, but the other way—he was not in regular employment, but when ships came in he did a bit of work—he earned sufficient to keep him—he was not married—I do not know Knox—I know nothing of my brother's relationship with Julia Knox—I was in his company about half an hour drinking—there was no woman there—I do not know Henry Hayden—I have given evidence before—Ando was at work on board a coal boat at this time, but they knocked off for supper at 10 o'clock, when he came to me—their supper consisted of drink—Hayden was not there.

Re-examined. I went out, leaving the deceased there.

HENRY HAYDEN . I am a coal-porter, of 104, Brookhill Road, Woolwich—the deceased was working with me on the night of March 31st—we knocked off work at eleven o'clock—Ando was with me till about 12.15—from 11 to 12.15 we were in the Perseverance public-house, High Street, Woolwich—I left him at 12.15—he came back to work at 12.30—he stayed at work till about 12.50—he left, and I did not see any more of him till he was shot—the Standard public-house is 200 or 250 yards from where he was working, and the Perseverance is about 350 yards from our work—he would pass the Standard on his way home from work.

ELLEN FULLER . I live at 77, High Street, Woolwich—on March 31st,

just before twelve o'clock, I was at the Distillery public-house with Julia Knox—I had drink there with her and the prisoner—the prisoner gave me 2s. 6d. for supper—I left him with her, and went and got my supper—he had had a drop to drink.

Cross-examined. Knox was not a great friend of mine—I do not know anything about her relationship with the deceased man—I went in there at a quarter to twelve, and saw the prisoner—I was not drinking there at eleven—I went out to get supper at 12.20—as I came back, they were outside—I swear it was 12.20. it was turning out time, it was not much earlier—I went to get supper quite close; down to the penny Ferry, opposite the Bell—I do not know if they called the deceased Jock—I had no communication with Brill or Letton on this night—I did not see them—I have never been convicted.

JULIA KNOX . I am the wife of John Knox, of 75, High Street, Woolwich—on March 31st I was in the Distillery public-house, the prisoner was there—he gave the last witness some money, and she went away—the prisoner and I then walked down to the Standard Alley—it is a blind alley—three men were standing opposite, Dick Litton, James Brill and John Wiver—I did not know any of them before only by sight—we went up the alley, and as the man was taking out 2s. to give me the three men rushed up and caught hold of him and said, "What are you doing up here?"—I heard something go, which I thought was a squib,—I ran away—I knew Ando, he was not with the three men then—I did not call out—I did not call out Jack or Jock when I was in the alley—I do not know anybody of that name—I have not seen the deceased with the three other men.

Cross-examined. The deceased was not a great friend of mine, I do not know that I ever spoke to him—I know him well enough to know that he was not with this man—I did not know that Letton was his cousin—I have often seen these men watching prostitutes to rob them:—the alley has no outlet—they caught hold of the prisoner, they pulled him—I did not see a revolver, it was very dark there, and a dark night outside too.

RICHARD LETTON . I am a coal porter of 53, High Street, Woolwich—I am 17 years of age—about one o'clock on the night of April 1st I was with Brill and Wiver near the Standard public-house—I heard a woman's screams coming from Standard Alley—I had not seen anybody go into the alley before that—a shot was fired and we went up the alley—we found Julia Knox and Turner struggling—we all ran up and the man said, "Stand back, or I will brain you!"—he fired a second shot in our faces—we all ran down the alley again—we met Ando again—Ando was a relation of mine—my mister's husband married one of his cousins—we went into the alley again, and the policeman said, "Stand back, or I will brain you!"—Turner threw him down, and then he seemed to fire in our faces, and we got assistance—the rest of us ran away, and met two constables at the bottom and told them.

Cross-examined. I was last in work three or four weeks ago—at the time of this occurrence I was going on the coal boat to see if I could get work—I was not at work, I was expecting it—I do not live with my father and mother—when I am out of work I generally go up to my

sister's and get a shilling off her—her husband works in the Arsenal—my last job lasted a night and a day—my sister has given me one shilling in the meantime, if I wanted it—she has no family—if Julia Knox says I watch prostitutes it is false—I have never received money from them of any sort or kind—I was standing opposite the Standard public-house—I can swear Julia Knox did not see me—I had not done work on the coal boat that night; they would not start us—we went up the alley to see what was the matter—I did not know who it was—I did not say before the Coroner that I heard a shot and then a scream, and then another scream—the alley is about a yard and a-half wide—I did not think there was danger in going up—I have been convicted—on February 6th, 1896, I was sent to a home by Mr. Marshall, the Magistrate, for using bad language and disorderly conduct; on June 23rd, 1896, I had one month's hard labour for stealing a knife; on July 28th, 1896, I got three or four days for disorderly conduct; on August 19th, twenty-one days' hard labour for begging; on December 18th, 1896, to one month for stealing; on March 17th, 1897, to three months' for stealing; on November 22nd, 1897, to three months' for stealing.

JAMES BRILL (in custody). I am a labourer, of 54, High Street, Woolwich—on the night of April 1st I was with Wiver and Letton near the Standard Public-house—I heard a scream and the report of a pistol, and we three ran in the direction of Standard Alley—I saw a man and woman talking rather loud, and he said to us, "Stand back, or I will brain you!"—he then fired—we ran away and met Ando and told him that there was a man in the alley with fire-arms—we went back, Ando in front, and as he got into the alley we saw Turner—he said, "Stand back, or I will brain you!"—he fired, and I saw Ando on the ground and Turner was punching him—Ando was standing up to the wall when the shot was fired—it would not be true that Turner fired up—the flash went towards the wall—we ran down the alley and met two policemen in plain clothes and told them.

Cross-examined. I saw the prisoner punching Ando with his fist in the face—it was very dark—he had him between his legs—I am in custody now for highway robbery with violence, but I am innocent—on November 10th, 1892, I was charged with stealing and discharged; and on February 26th, 1895, for being suspected person found in a stable, and bound over on my own recognizances in £5; on March 22nd, 1895, for burglary, four days; on May 7th, 1895, for stealing, two months' hard labour; on May 2nd, 1896, for stealing, one month's hard labour; on August 21st, 1896, for stealing, two months; and on April 26th, 1897, three days.

GEORGE CHILLCOTT (355 R.). About 1 o'clock on April 1st my attention was called to the Standard Alley—I was in plain clothes, and in company with Police-constable Klein—I heard a report of fire-arms, and went towards the alley—about half-way there I heard a second report, and as we got there I saw three men rush from it—I heard one say, "It was only blank"—they were Brill, Wiver and Letton—we stood at the entrance of the alley—I heard the prisoner say, "I will brain the first one that comes near me"—I shouted out that we were police officers, and had hardly finished speaking when I saw a flash and heard another report—the prisoner seemed then to be some distance up the alley—we rushed up and met the prisoner coming towards us—we closed with him

and I knocked the revolver from his hand, and put it into my pocket—when he knew we were police officers he went quietly—when the first shot, was fired the three men were in the High Street—there is no doubt about that—they were behind us—they may have been close—on the way to the station the prisoner said, "I went up the alley with a woman, when all of a sudden she called out Jack, three men rushed up the passage and I took the revolver from my pocket to frighten her, and fired in the air" I did not know at that time anybody had been shot—I did not hear any statement made by either of the three men.

Cross-examined. I don't think the prisoner meant to shoot him—when he was satisfied he went quietly—I do not know whether he shot Ando with the third shot or whether he pointed it at us—it was perfectly dark—I did not know Ando.

WILLIAM KLEIN (117 R) I was with Chillcott and went up the alley, with him—I assisted in taking the prisoner to the station—his right-hand trousers' pocket was turned inside out.

GEORGE RING (343 R). I was spoken to by Letton about 1 a.m. on April 1st—I had seen Turner taken into custody—I went up Standard Alley, and heard groaning five or six yards up—I said to Letton and Klein, "Come up with me"—we went up and saw the deceased man lying on the ground leaning against the wall and blood streaming from his nose and mouth—he was still alive—I sent for a doctor—the man's back was up against the wall—I think he must have fallen down on the left and rested against the wall as he fell.

ALFRED GOODALL (Police Inspector, R). I saw the prisoner in custody about 1.45 on April 1st. I charged him with shooting at Robert Ando—he said, "I went up the passage with this woman; I gave her two lots of money; she then shouted out "Jack" and three men ran up the passage; I fired two shots in the air; I do not know where the last went to; they ran away after I fired the first shot and I ran down the passage and met two men who said they were policemen; I must have been robbed"—he was charged with wilful murder when Ando was found to be dead—he said, "The shots I fired I did to frighten them, so that I could get out of the passage"—I saw the revolver—there were three cartridges still in it, and three had been fired—it was a six-chambered one.

Cross-examined. This locality has a very bad reputation, I don't know a worse place in Woolwich—it is frequented by prostitutes and people of the worst description—this alley is about sixty or seventy yards long, and about five feet wide with a very nasty bend in the middle—I have here a list of convictions of Ando—on April 6th, 1891, he was fined 40s. or seven days; on April 9th, 1892, for stealing, he was discharged; on August 22nd, 1892, 20s. or fourteen days, for being drunk and disorderly and assaulting the police; on July 15th, 1893, drunk and disorderly, 5s. or five days; on November 1st, 1893, for stealing, he was acquitted; on March 31st, 1894, for assault, twenty-one days; on May 24th, 1894, for being drunk, 10s. or seven days; March 29th, 1895, for assault, one month; September 2nd, 1896, for being drunk, one month; May 22nd, 1897, assaulting the police, two months—since the prisoner has been in custody I have seen papers of his apprenticeship indentures and discharges from voyages to the Baltic—they are very satisfactory.

CHARLES PEARCE . I am divisional surgeon at Woolwich—on March 31st I was fetched to Standard Alley, and saw the deceased; he was then alive and suffering from a bullet wound in the left eye-ball—he died on the following morning—I came to the conclusion that he died from the effects of the wound—I found this bullet (produced)—it was fired, I should think, about 6 ft. off—if it had been nearer there would have been some burning—in my opinion, the shot was fired in an upward direction—it went in at the eye, and then upwards—I do not think he could have been lying on the ground, I think he must have been in an upright position—some important blood vessels were injured—it is possible that he could have moved himself after he was shot, there are cases where men have walked after being shot through the brain—there were no bruises on his face; the eyelid was not injured at all, the eyelid must have been wide open when the shot was fired.

Cross-examined. The wound would bleed immediately the bullet struck him—if he was hit with the revolver or the fist I should expect to find blood on them—any man would wink if a revolver was pointed at his eye.

STEPHEN GUMMER (Police Inspector, R). I examined the walls in Standard Alley—I found two bullet marks, the first one was on the back wall of the Standard public-house, 14 ft. from the ground, and 9 ft. to the left of the alley towards the High Street—there is a right angle in the alley—the other one was on the back wall of 87, High Street, which is to the right of the alley—that was 10 ft. 6 ins. from the ground, and 3 ft. to the right of the alley—the walls of the alley vary from 9 ft. to 11 ft. 6 ins.—the shots went over the walls of the alley—they struck the walls whilst they were falling, showing that they were fired at a point above the man's head—the marks show that clearly—the pull of the revolver is 14 lbs., and an inexperienced person would probably pull it down two or three feet when firing it—the third shot might possibly have been aimed over the man, and have been pulled down.

By the JURY. The passage does not belong to the public-house, it is a back way to the public-house—it formerly ran from one street to another—it is now blocked up.



Before Mr. Justice Channell.

Reference Number: t18980425-340

340. ELIZA HUDSON (35) , Feloniously killing and slaying Charles Edward Hudson, also on the Coroner's inquisition with the like offence.

MR. HUTTON Prosecuted.

LOUISA GOLDSMITH . On June 22nd, 1895, I received the prisoner's child, Charles Edward Hudson, who was then six days' old—he remained with me until November 19th, 1897, and was in very good health indeed during the whole of that time, he could take any food—I never knew him have a fit—he was very clean indeed and not at all troublesome—he was very healthy when I gave him up to his mother, because I could get no money—I saw her a fortnight or three weeks afterwards and she said that it was a Mrs. Wilson's child—I mean that the prisoner described herself as Mrs. Wilson—he ran about strong and talked, too—he did not

suffer from rickets, only from ear-ache—I afterwards saw the child in the mortuary.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. Your letters were in the name of Wilson—you always gave that name—you had the child vaccinated in my name—I did not have the vaccination paper, you said that you burnt it—you asked whether any of my little boys had fits, because Charlie was so strange about the eyes—he never had a fit—he was attended once by a doctor after I had him—he had diarrhoea, and you were sent for—the doctor said nothing about fits, or that if he did not get better in twenty-four hours he would not get better at all—he was a beautiful boy—he used not to shake his head about in bed, only when he had the ear-ache—I never told Tester that he did.

CAROLINE DARVILLE . I am the wife of Frederick Darville, a carpenter, of 19, Collin's Street, Tooting—the prisoner lived there with a man named Tester—they occupied three rooms and a scullery—they had six children—the four elder ones slept in one room and the prisoner and Tester occupied another room with the child that is dead and a younger child—the other room was occupied by the grandfather and the other children—and the lodger slept in the kitchen—the rooms were all on the ground floor—there was a bed in the front room, and a kitchen with a scullery off it—I remember this child coming in November—he was in good condition—I have 10 children—he could walk and was bright and very intelligent and not emaciated or thin; but after six months I noticed that he was getting very thin, and there were sores all over him and I noticed bruises once or twice—I noticed a bruise on his lips and a large one on his cheek and another on his eye at the same time—that was a month or six weeks after—I remember his being taken to a doctor—I had never seen him taken out of the house into the air from the time he came till then—my room was up-stairs, and their bedroom downstairs—when the child has been put to bed I have heard the prisoner slap him, and heard him cry—the prisoner told me that he was a nurse child, and had no mother, and that she was paid 5s. a week for him—I sometimes fed him—he took his food, and kept it down, but I once fed him with milk, and he vomited it back, and the prisoner rammed the spoon in his mouth and he cried—after that he became worse, and after Christmas I advised her to take him to a doctor—she said that she would, and asked me to ask him who hit him—I did so, and he said that his mother did—he had bruises at that time on his lip—when he said "Mother," in answer to my question, he pointed to the prisoner, and she swore at him and said, "Don't call me mother, you bleeding little perished"—her son William was there, he is sixteen—he said, "What is the good of hitting the child?"—at that time, therefore, the child appeared to be frightened of his mother—she put him in a wash-house with a stone floor, and kept him there half an hour or longer—he had no extra clothes on, only an old frock—he cried while he was shut up there—I remember when he died, but did not see him that day—I saw him since he died, and saw a bruise on his forehead—the prisoner said that he knocked himself—after Christmas I heard her smack him and throw him. down in the front room, and she said, "Lie there and die."

Cross-examined. Before and after Christmas you used to go to work

at the South-Western laundry soon after 8 a.m.—you know you were very cruel to that child—your daughter Eliza, aged eighteen, stayed at home when you were at work, and when you were ill she took your place for a fortnight, and afterwards I took it—you knocked the poor little fellow about, you know you told me you were not the mother.

Re-examined. She commenced going to this place to work before Christmas—she was not at work when the child came, she went three or four weeks afterwards—she did not return to dinner—I heard the smacking and the crying in the morning and at night—I know nothing about the coal-hole except what I was told—there had been no quarrel between us about getting my daughter's work.

FANNY DARVILLE . I am fifteen years old—the last witness is my mother—I live with her—I remember the prisoner's child coming to the house in November—he was a nice little child—he could walk and eat, and get up and down stairs till he gradually got worse—he got thinner—I noticed sores on him, but he had none when he first came—I only saw him fed once by the prisoner—I think that was before Christmas—he had become thinner—I had seen sores and bruises on him, and a cut on his hip, and sores on his chest—his mother said he had fallen off a chair—my mother asked him in the prisoner's presence who had hit him, and she said, "Don't call me mother," and slapped him—I have heard the child being smacked.

Cross-examined. I was before the Coroner three times, and gave evidence twice—I did not say anything the first time about seeing you ill-treat the child, because I was not called in—nobody told me what to say between the two times—I can only tell the same as my mother because I was there at the same time.

FREDERICK DARVILLE . I am thirteen years old—Caroline Darville is my mother—I am at Highbury Green Industrial School—I went there on March 7th—I was at home with my mother last Christmas and all the time till March 7th—I remember the little boy Charlie when he first came to the prisoner—he could walk about and go upstairs—I noticed an alteration in him afterwards—I used to hear him crying when he was getting up and going to bed—I went to the coal cellar once before Christmas at 10 o'clock, and saw him there naked, and a dog tied up in the cellar—I let the boy out and he crawled into he kitchen—I went upstairs and told my mother—he was there crying when I went down at 8 a.m., but I did not open the door then—the prisoner said she did it because he wetted the bed.

Cross-examined. You came upstairs to mother and told her you had locked the boy in the cellar—the dog was barking; he had been kept in the coal-cellar for a little time.

ANNIE BARNES . I live now at Alfred Cottages, Tooting—up to February 20th I lived with the prisoner—I noticed the child when it first came—it appeared to be healthy—it had no sores on it, but it afterwards broke out in sores—I slept in the kitchen and it slept in the front room—I did not see it in the morning, I went to work at 7.30 and returned sometimes at seven and sometimes at 8.30—the dog was kept in the coal-cellar—I saw the child's mouth black, and he had a black eye—I was re-called by the Coroner, and gave my evidence more fully than on

the first occasion, and described the child's condition as I saw it of a morning, as swollen all over, I did not say that on the first occasion.

CLAUD ROBINSON LUCAS . I am a fully qualified medical map, of Broadway, Tooting—I first saw the deceased child on February 22nd—it then had symptoms of bronchial pneumonia, and had several sores, due to bad nutrition and neglect, one on the chest, and one on the shoulder—I gave it some medicine, and told her to come the following Monday morning and let me know how it was, and I would go and see it—the ointment ought to have lasted three or four days, I told her to apply it to all the sores—she came again on March 1st, and brought the child, the bronchial pneumonia was better, but the sores were still bad, and in my opinion they had not been dressed at all—I asked her if she had used all the ointment—she said, "No"—I gave her some further remedies, and told her to bring I it again in a day or two—I saw it next on the day of its death, February 20th—she said that the child had a fit about three a.m., and she thought it was going to have another—I told her I would go in the course of the morning, but in half-an-hour some one came, and said that the child was lead—I called about 12.15 and saw it, and saw some bruises on its face—I declined to give a certificate, and communicated with the Coroner's office—I made the post-mortem examination—the child's weight was only 17 lbs. 14 ozs.—I noticed a bruise on the face, another on the chin, one on the right foot, several others on the body, and both feet were swollen—it had suffered from rickets for more than three months—that might be due to artificial feeding—I think it had been suffering before November 19th—want of care would make the rickets worse—it would be obvious to the mother, as it would get bow legs—I noticed sores on the point of each shoulder, and on the scapular, which I attribute to bad condition of the skin, and the sores to bad nutrition of the skin—there was an abrasion on the side of the head, and considerable bruising all round—it was a severe bruise, and considerable force would be necessary to cause it—there was slight bronchial pneumonia of the right lung, but it was not likely to accelerate death—there were no diseased organs, and nothing whatever to lead me to believe that it was unable to assimulate food—the cause of death was weakness from mal-nutrition, and not being taken out into the air, especially in a ricketty child; and being treated severely, and occasionally slapped and shut up in a wash-house and coal-cellar would reduce its condition, which was obvious to anybody—it could not possibly have forced its head between the railings of the bedstead because it was in too weak a condition to do so—mal-nutrition, want of air, and inattention on the part of the mother would accelerate death.

By the COURT. I saw the bed—the injury could be caused by the child putting its head between the rails, but I think it was not strong enough—if it was in a fit it would not shove itself about like that.

Cross-examined. There were no spirits on my table, and the child did not ask for them—I told you to give it plenty of milk—if you had said anything about giving it whisky I should have said that it was not necessary—I did not order mutton broth, and order you to stop giving milk—you said that you were suffering from heart disease—I never examined you.

WILLIAM ERNEST STANLEY COBB . I am a fully-qualified medical

practitioner, of Tooting—I assisted Dr. Lucas in this post-mortem examination—I heard his evidence at the Police-court, and agree with him—the child was emaciated, and only weighed 16 lbs.—there was pneumonia, but not sufficient to cause death—there was nothing to lead me to believe that it could not assimilate food—death was due to mal-nutrition and not being able to digest unsuitable food—it was not strong enough to have caused the violence to its head by striking it against the bed.

JOHN HARVEY (Police Serjeant, 67 W). On February 20th, about 4 p.m., I went to the prisoner's room and saw the child's body—it was taken to the mortuary—it had a number of bruises—I asked the prisoner how she accounted for them—she said that it was done by its head against the bedstead, and the sores by picking itself; that it was all right when it went to bed the night before, and had two slices of bread and an orange and that she was awoke about 3 a.m. by the shaking of the bed-stead and found the child in a fit and took it in her lap and went off asleep—she did not point out the place where she said that the child struck its head—I made this plan (produced)—I formed an opinion that the child's head could not go through this triangular place.

ARTHUR SEWELL (Police Inspector, W). I made this plan of the prisoner's bed—the diameter of this triangular place is 6 inches—there was no place larger than 6 inches—I said to the prisoner at the inquest, "I shall arrest you for the death of your son"—she said, "I know, all right; they are all d—d liars."

DR. LUCAS (Re-examined). I saw no indication on the sores as if they had been picked—I cannot say the width of the child's head.

Prisoner's defence; "I am not guilty of the crime. The child had the rickets and was very bad and could not properly get about. I have never been locked up in my life. I had a bad husband, and picked up with another man and had children. I thought the child was getting better. I was never a bad mother to him, and I think it very hard that I should be blamed for it."

GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.

Reference Number: t18980425-341

341. WILLIAM ROBINSON (22) Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

SIDNEY JAMES GROVES . I live in the Commercial Road—on March 24th I was in a tobacco shop at 29, Tulse Hill, kept by Mrs. Robinson—I was talking to her—the prisoner came in for a twopenny cigar—he tendered in payment a five-shilling piece—Mrs. Robinson gave him two florins, a six-pence and four pence in coppers—he went out of the shop with the change—he lighted the cigar—Mrs. Robinson asked me to fetch him back—I looked at the coin and found it bad—it was very light—I found the prisoner about ten seconds afterwards—I saw him a few yards away, and asked him to come back—it is not a very busy neighbourhood—I did not see anybody else—I said the lady was dissatisfied with the five-shillingpiece—he said, "I will be back in a minute, I have got to meet a friend at the corner"—there is no corner—he went on walking—I asked him again to go back—he smoked for the first 300 yards, and then threw his cigar away—he refused to come back each time—we met a

policeman, and I said, "Will you kindly bring this man back to the shop as he has passed a bad five-shillingpiece"—the prisoner said, "It is a mistake, I have not been near the shop"—we went back—the lady charged him with passing a bad five-shillingpiece—he was taken to the station—he said he was a non-smoker.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. It was only ten yards from the shop.

ANN ROBINSON . I am a tobacconist, of 29, Tulse Hill—on March 24th I was in my shop—the prisoner came in and gave me a five-shilling piece—I am sure he is the man—I asked Mr. Groves to go out after him—he was brought back by a policeman—I told him I did not like the five-shilling piece—he said that I had made a mistake, and that he had not been near the shop—he was dressed as he is now.

HENRY WILSON (705 W). I met Groves and the prisoner on March 24th, at Tulse Hill, a little over a mile from the shop—I told the prisoner I should take him into custody for uttering counterfeit coin—he said, "You have made a mistake, I have not been near the shop"—I took him back to the shop, searched him and found four florins, a sixpence, and fourpence in copper—he said he had no fixed abode and that he did not smoke—I found this pipe on him (produced).

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—this crown is counterfeit.

Prisoner's defence: I never went into the shop. I have been to work and have a character here.

GUILTY .— Six Weeks' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18980425-342

342. ALFRED FENTON (24) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin twice within ten days.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

LOUISE PERRY . I am barmaid at the Duke of York, Waterloo Road—on March 29th, after two p.m., the prisoner came in for a small lemon, price twopence—he gave me a five-shilling piece—I put it in the till—there was no other crown there—I gave him the change and he left—I left the bar about three o'clock, and Mr. Hilliard sent up to me—I went down, and he showed me a crown piece—I noticed that the prisoner had an impediment in his speech—I was sent for to the station on the 31st, and saw a man being locked up who I recognised—I was afterwards sent for to the station, and picked the prisoner out from other men—I have no doubt of him—I recognised him apart from the impediment in his speech.

AUGUSTUS HILLIARD . I am manager of this public-house—on March 29th, between two and three p.m., I found a crown piece in the till, and only one—that was after Perry went upstairs—the till would be closed on her leaving the bar—I sent for her and showed it to her, and afterwards handed it to Lizall—this is it.

WALTER ALEXANDER HUSK . I keep the New Bridge Street House, Westminster—on March 31st, about four p.m., the prisoner came in for a a small lemon, price twopence—he gave me this bad five-shilling piece—I said, "Do you know what you gave me"—he said, "Yes; a five-shilling piece"—I said, "It is a bad one"—he said, "Don't thumb it"—I sent for a constable and gave him in custody, and broke the coin in pieces—the prisoner saw that—he said nothing—he was perfectly sober—the lemon is the usual thing to call for when bad money is passed.

WALTER LIZALL (Police Serjeant, L). On March 31st I was called to the New Bridge House and found the prisoner in the bar—Mr. Huss said he had tendered a bad five-shilling piece—he said, "What! Do you think I should do that with two constables outside?"—I searched him, and found one shilling and threepence in copper—I took him to the station, after which the other charge was mentioned, and Miss Perry was sent for—she picked him out of eight others—the public-houses are about a quarter of a mile apart.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these coins are both counterfeit, but from different molds.

Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I own to uttering the first, but I did not know it was bad. The second I know nothing about. I do not know the man; I have a witness as to that."

Prisoner's defence: You know men are liable to get drunk. I thought the coin was good, but was given in charge. When I was at the station the first witness saw me between two constables, and when she came to identify me she said, "That is the man "Why did she not identify me in the street? There are plenty of people in the street like me.

GUILTY Nine Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18980425-343

343. JOSEPH WINNING (19) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

FLORENCE HILBERT . I am a draper with my sister at 136, Mintone Road, Wimbledon—on March 25th the prisoner came in for a 2 1/2 d. handkerchief and gave me this crown—I gave it to my sister—she went out of the shop and I wanted to detain the prisoner—I kept him in conversation—I wrapped the handkerchief up, but be went out before my sister came back, and ran away without waiting for his change or the handkerchief—when my sister came back I gave his description to the police—I afterwards picked him out from twelve others—I am sure he is the same boy—he never came back for his change.

ANNIE HILBERT . I am sister to the last witness—on March 25th I came into the shop and saw a lad—I am not quite certain of the prisoner—I took the five-shilling piece to get change—I saw the prisoner afterwards with four others at the Police-court—I was not certain; but I thought he was the boy.

ROBERT WILLIAMSON (Detective Officer). On March 25th Florence Hilbert gave me a description—I circulated it among the police—she also gave me a crown piece.

FLORENCE DUCHAL . I assist my father, who keeps a fancy shop at 40, North Road, Battersea—about 7.30 one evening the prisoner, to the best of my belief, came in for a threepenny mouth organ, and gave me a bad five-shilling piece—my mother came in—I passed it to her—she said it was bad—the boy said, "Oh, is it?" and picked it up and walked out—I gave information—we had two bad pieces before that—Carter, the constable, has them—my father went to the station—I was sent for, and picked the prisoner out from about twelve others.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. This was about seven o'clock—it was later than 6.30—I cannot say whether it was past seven.

CAROLINE DUCHAL . I am the mother of the last witness—she showed me a five-shilling piece—I took it in my hand—it was light and greasy, and I thought it was bad—I did not identity the prisoner.

WILLIAM HEAD (Detective Officer). I received some information and a description—on the morning of April 7th I saw the prisoner—these two shops are some two miles apart—I said "I am a police officer, and I shall take you for passing counterfeit coin"—I searched him and found nineteen shillings in silver, and three pence in copper, but no bad money—there were three half-crowns and three sixpences—I took him to the station—he was identified in the evening by the two witnesses—he made no reply to the other charge.

Cross-examined. There is a window in the inspectors office, but the witnesses did not go in there.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—this crown is counterfeit.

GUILTY to the uttering on March 25th. — Judgment respited.

Reference Number: t18980425-344

344. RICHARD BANKS (28) , Feloniously uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

JOHN CARTER (234 V). On March 26th I was on point duty in Battersea about 6.30 and saw the prisoner looking into the shops in a suspicious manner with Webb (see page 658)—I kept them under observation—they got to the corner of Cairns Road, when Blinks pulled something like paper, about the size of his fist, out of his pocket, took something from it and handed it to Webb—I walked along on the other side—they turned up a road in the dark and I lost sight of them—I walked along the Northgate Road and received some information—I saw Banks looking into Mr. Piper's shop window at 19, Northgate Road—I went to the shop door and said, "Who wants me?"—Banks looked at me and ran away as hard as he could—Mr. Piper and Webb were struggling in the shop—I arrested Webb and gave Banks' description to Serjeant Windsor—I picked him out from twelve others on the night of Good Friday—I have no doubt about him.

Cross-examined by the Prisoner. I did not see you through the small window of the inspector's office—that is Webb (pointing to him).

Re-examined. I received a counterfeit coin from Piper and one shilling from Webb—there in a yard at the station—I never saw the prisoner from the time I first saw him till I picked him out.

ETHEL PIPER . I am a fancy draper with my father, at 19, Northgate Road, Battersea—on March 26th Webb came in "and gave me a bad five-shilling piece—I gave it to my father, who locked the door—he had a struggle with Webb, who was handed over to the police—that is Webb (pointing to the prisoner)—I did not see the prisoner.

GEORGE PIPER . I am father of the last witness—on March 26th Webb came in and put down a five-shilling piece—I locked the door and gave a signal—Webb asked me to look outside to see his father—I looked out and saw the prisoner Banks, to the best of my belief, and I afterwards picked him out from five others at the station—I believe he is the man, but I was struggling with Webb at the time.

Cross-examined. I said that I would not swear positively to you, as I only saw your side face—I saw a man outside before the policeman came.

WILLIAM STEPHENS (Detective V). In April last I was observing the prisoner's stable at Shelwood Road, Battersea—Greenwood and Willing went there and remained there a short time and came away—they noticed that we were following them and ran away—I saw Banks that day.

SARAH JANE WATSON . I am in the employ of the Welford Dairy Co., at Streatham—on April 4th, between five and six p.m., the youth Greenwood (see page 658) came in for two eggs, and put a five-shilling piece on the counter—I picked it up and did not like the look of it—I took it to the secretary, Mr. Renals—I did not notice anybody outside—I saw a man go by, but I cannot recognise him.

ANNIE RENALS . I am the wife of the secretary of the Welford (Surrey) Dairy Company—on April 4th I saw Greenwood in the shop, and through the open door I saw Banks and recognised him—Greenwood was given into custody—I saw Banks again on April 7th with eight or nine others, and picked him out at once—I have no doubt he is the man.

Cross-examined. That was last Friday week—it was not on the Thursday before Good Friday—I had no more doubt about picking you out than I should have had in picking out my own husband—it was not in the passage—there is no passage—I was not told to identify you.

JOHN WINDSOR (Detective V). I received a description from Carter, and arrested the prisoner in Latimer Road—it was 10 a.m.—he was driving a pony in a costermonger's cart—I said, "I am going to search you," and told him to get out—I took some good money from his pocket—I said, "I shall take you to the station"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "On suspicion of uttering"—he was placed with others and identified—Carter had previously given a description, and I told him to go at seven o'clock—there is no truth in the statement that the lads were pointed out by the police or that the witnesses could see through a window.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to Her Majesty's Mint—these coins are both bad and from different moulds—it is the custom of people engaged in coining to wrap the coins up in paper.

Prisoner's defence: Windsor stopped me and looked me to the station—I stopped there a long time, but there was nobody to identify me—I was charged with a man named Webb, but I do not know him—I never saw him in my life—I was simply taken on suspicion—I don't know where the shops are—she said she did not know whether I was the man, but when she got into the witness-box she said I was—I was never near that shop.

GUILTY .—He then PLEADED GUILTY to a conviction of feloniously uttering coin on December 12th, 1892, and six oilier convictions were proved against him and he had been twice sentenced to penal servitude.— Seven Years Penal Servitude.

Reference Number: t18980425-345

345. HARRY CLEAVER (16) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin, MR. PARTRIDGE Prosecuted.

LILY WOOD . I assist Mrs. Markham, a fancy draper, of 40, West Hill, Wandsworth—on March 21st I served the prisoner with a handkerchief, price twopence—he gave me a four-shilling piece—it did not ring and I

showed it to Mrs. Markham, who said to the prisoner, "Is it a good coin?"—he said nothing, but laughed—she went outside with the coin—he went to the door and stood on the step and said, "The lady has gone a long time; I wonder where she has gone to," and walked away without the handkerchief and without his change—I afterwards identified him at the station from a great many other boys.

MRS. MARKHAM. I keep this shop—the last witness handed me a four-shilling piece—I saw a person in die shop—I cannot swear to the prisoner—I said, "I do not think this is good"—he made no reply—I took it to my next-door neighbour, got it tested, came back, and he had gone—he never came back for his change.

WILLIAM STEPHENS (Detective, V). I received a description which was circulated by the police, in consequence of which I arrested the prisoner in Hackney Road on April 7th—I said, "I am going to take you to the Police-station"—he said, "What for?"—I told him the charge—he said, "If I am identified I shall have to put up with it"—he was charged, and made no answer.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin at the Mint—this double florin is bad.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "When Detective Stephens stopped me he did not tell me what it was for at seven at night. When the witness pointed me out she said, 'It looks like him.' I did not tell Stephens that if I was identified I must put up with it."

GUILTY .—The Detective stated that he had been twice summarily convicted and was connected with the same gang as Webb, Greenwood, and Winning.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour.

Reference Number: t18980425-346

346. HENRY LOFTHOUSE (21) , Unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.

MR. WILKINSON Prosecuted.

NELLY ROSE LASCELLES . I am assistant at the bar of a tavern in the Waterloo Road—on April 5th, between ten and eleven p.m, I served the prisoner—he was with two others—he gave me a good shilling, and I gave him the change—a few minutes afterwards he paid for more drink with a florin—I placed it in the bottom row and gave him the change—the barman spoke to me—I pointed it out to him and he tried it—the prisoner was still in the bar—the barman handed it to my husband about six persons serve in the bar—I am sure he is the man as passed the shilling—I picked him out the same night at the station from eight other men.

The Prisoner. I did not tender the florin, it was a penny.

ROBERT HORNE . I am barman at the Victoria Tavern—on April 5th about 10.45 p.m., the prisoner came in with two others—he called for some ale, and gave me a shilling—I gave him the change—I afterwards served him with more liquor—he tendered me a florin—I found it was bad, and mentioned it to him, and said, "This is a bad one"—he took it from his pocket—he had other money in his hand, which he rattled before he took the money from his pocket—I spoke to Miss Lascelles, who pointed out this coin on the shelf—I tried it with aqua fortis—the other two men went out—the prisoner said that he would go and find them.

Cross-examined. You did not pay with the penny, it was with a florin.

LEONARD BARRETT LASCELLES . I am manager of the Victoria Tavern—on April 5th the prisoner was pointed out to me—I followed him and gave him into custody.

JAMES FORD (Police Inspector L). On April 5th—I found the prisoner detained by Mr. King and Mr. Lascelles—he said, "I know nothing about it; they have made a mistake"—he was taken to the station and charged—he said, "This is the second case you have against me"—I found on him 1s. 5 1/2 d. in bronze—Mr. King gave me this coin.

Cross-examined. I went to Myers, where you worked, and I found that you were there four years, and bore a good character up to September 29th last, since when you have been pushing a barrow.

ROBERT HORNE (re-examined). The man who tendered the florin to me was in the private bar—Miss Lascelles pointed him out to me, and I recognised him as the man who tendered the money to me—Mr. Lascelles followed him out—he went out by himself.

LEONARD BARRETT LASCELLES (re-examined). I followed the prisoner out and kept my eye on him—he was alone—he had" no opportunity of passing anything to anybody.

WILLIAM JOHN WEBSTER . This coin is counterfeit.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I know nothing about it. Several others were there."

NELLY ROSE LASCELLES (re-examined). There are seven bars.


Reference Number: t18980425-347

347. GEORGE GREENWOOD** (16), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.— Judgment respited.

Reference Number: t18980425-348

348. GEORGE WEBB (17) , To unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin. (The police stated that he had been once convicted and lived in the same lodging as Greenwood).— Judgment respited. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-349

349. JOHN SERVICE (42) , to Unlawfully obtaining £23 15s., £95, and £47 10s. from William Jackman by false pretences; also to three indictments for forging and uttering bills of exchange for £50 and £100 with intent to defraud. He received a good character, but the prosecution stated that the forged bills between April and December amounted to about £1,000.— Seven Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-350

350. GRACE SIMMONS (20) , to feloniously forging and uttering cheques for £3, £2, £2, £2, with intent to defraud.— To enter into recognizances to come up for judgment when called upon. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] And

Reference Number: t18980425-59

(351) FRANCIS HENNELL (40) , To unlawfully obtaining £1, 10s., 1s., 1s., by false pretences, having been convicted of a like offence at Clerkenwell on August 29th, 1894.— Twelve Months' Hard Labour. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]

Reference Number: t18980425-352

352. FREDERICK COOK (19) , Stealing three bags of coffee, the property of Arthur James Humphrey and others.

MR. BIRON Prosecuted.

WILLIAM DONALDSON . I live in Mary Street, Whitechapel—I am a master carman and I occasionally employed the prisoner and he became acquainted with my business—Owen Neal was in my employ on April

2nd and is now—it was his duty as carman to take the warrants and delivery orders and receive the goods for me to deliver.

OWEN NEAL . I am sixteen years old and live at 8, New Square, Minories—I am employed by Mr. Donaldson—on April 2nd I was driving a covered van—I was given lists to collect goods at Cotton's Wharf and other places—the prisoner, whom I knew, got on the van—he asked where I was going—f toil him to Cotton's, Wharf—he said, "Show me your orders"—I did so—I had to receive goods—he gave them back to me and I put them in my pocket—he got down before the van reached the wharf—at the wharf I handed in my orders, which were for eight bags of coffee, to the clerk in the office—I received those bags and signed for them—the prisoner came and asked me where I was going—I told him I was going to deliver five bags of coffee—when I got to South Bermondsey the eight bags were quite safe—I delivered five, and took three to Mr. Donaldson's office.

BALDWIN COOMBS . I know Neal as Mr. Donaldson's car-boy—on April 2nd he came to Cotton's Wharf for some coffee which was lying there—he lodged the necessary orders for eight bags—three were for Mr. Donaldson—the prisoner lodged this slip, for three bags, with Donaldson's stamp on it—I put it on the shelf for delivery to Nicholls.

JOHN BROAD NICHOLLS . I am under-delivery foreman at Cotton's wharf—on April 2nd, about 1.30, the prisoner came and asked if I was calling for Donaldsons—after taking the order out of the office, which was my duty, I said, "Yes; where is your van?"—he said, "Round the corner"—I said, "Bring it round here"—he brought a truck—I said, "This is rather a funny sort of van"—he said, "This is a truck, but I am Donaldson"—I gave up the three bags referred to in the order, and he went to the office and signed for them in the delivery book, and left the warrant—we had received the order for delivery to Donaldson on the Friday—I had lost the list of the deliveries between Donaldson's place and Fenchurch Street on the Tuesday.

JOSEPH PRUCE . I am junior clerk at Cotton's Wharf—I was present when Nicholls gave three bags of coffee to the prisoner—I gave his order to pass the goods out of the warehouse—the word "van," which was on it, has been altered to "truck"—I saw the receipt signed for the goods in this book in the name of "F. Jones," and I gave the person this ticket—I do not know the prisoner.

THOMAS CUCACK . I am gate-keeper at Cotton's Wharf—on March 2nd, about 1.30, I passed out a man who gave me this paper—he had three bags of coffee on a truck—I cannot swear to the prisoner—it was a man like him, but I looked more at the pass.

HENRY FITZGERALD (Detective Officer). Having received information I went to the Swan public-house, Whitechapel, with Nicholls who pointed out the prisoner, who was with eight or nine men there—I told him the charge—he said, "Where is your warrant?"—I said, "A warrant is not necessary in this case"—he said, "Oh, very well. I suppose I must go with you"—when charged at the station he made no reply.

The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "On Saturday week I was in the Swan, when the detective said he wanted me. I know nothing about it."

Prisoner's defence: I was not there. I am innocent of the crime.

GUILTY .— Six Months' Hard Labour.

Before Mr. Recorder.

Reference Number: t18980425-353

353. JOHN UPTON (43) , Committing an act of gross indecency with a person unknown.


Reference Number: t18980425-354

354. WILLIAM WEBB (26), PLEADED GUILTY to breaking and entering two churches and stealing therein, having been previously convicted of the like and other offences.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.


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