The Proceedings of the Old Bailey

 

466.   ADELAIDE BARTLETT (30) and   GEORGE DYSON (27) were indicted for the wilful murder of   Thomas Edwin Bartlett. They were also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like murder.

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL (SIR CHARLES RUSSELL) with MESSRS. POLAND, R. S. WRIGHT and MOLONY Prosecuted; MR. EDWARD CLARKE, Q.C., with MESSRS. MEADE and BEAL appeared for Bartlett; and MESSRS. LOCKWOOD, Q.C., and CHARLES MATHEWS for Dyson.

The ATTORNEY-GENERAL offered no evidence against DYSON, who was acquitted.

  WILLIAM HENRY BROADBENT . I am a physician of 34, Seymour Street, Portman Square—I know Thomas Henry Green, physician of Charing Cross Hospital and of 74, Wimpole Street—he was taken seriously ill on the 6th of this month—I saw him first on the 7th—I have been attending him ever since—I saw him yesterday, he was confined to his bed—it would be quite impossible for him to attend here any day this week to give evidence, it would probably be a month at least before he would be able to do so—the signature to this deposition I believe to be his (This was afterwards read. See page 764.)

  EDWIN BARLETT . I am a carpenter and builder of 44, Chaucer Road, Herne Hill—the deceased Thomas Edwin Bartlett was my son—he was 40 years of age on 8th October last—he was a grocer and provision dealer, and carried on business in partnership with Mr. Baxter—they had six shops, one in Barnsbury Road, Herne Hill; one "The Exchange" in Lordship Lane, Dulwich; "The Group Mart" in Lordship Lane; one at 33, Milk-wood Road, Loughboro'-Junction; and another at the corner of Chaucer

Road, the "West Hill Park Supply Stores," and the other at 17a, Herne Hill—as far as I could judge he was in a prosperous way of business—the prisoner was his wife; this is the marriage certificate (This certified the marriage of Thomas Edwin Bartlett and Adelaide de la Tremoille at the Parish Church of Croydon on 6th April, 1875)—my son was a batchelor when he married—the prisoner is described in the certificate as aged 19 and a spinster, she was about that age—I first knew her just before she was married, she came to my house with my son—I knew she had been staying with one of my sons for a short time at Kingston—the deceased first became acquainted with her there—when she was first introduced to me she was called Blanche—I was not present at the wedding—I know that she afterwards went to a school, Miss Dodd's, at Stoke Newington—she resided there and in the holidays she lived in furnished apartments with her husband—she afterwards went to a convent school in Belgium—my son used to go from time to time to see her—about the middle of 1877 she returned and resided with her husband at 2, Station Road, Herne Hill, that was one of my son's shops—on the death of my wife I went to live with them there, and I resided with them for five or six years—my son offered me a home for life on the death of my wife—all that time they lived there together as man and wife, occuping the same room and the same bed—I remember the birth of a child, I think it was two years after she came to reside there, I can't fix the date nearer than that, it was a still-born child I understood—Annie Walker attended her—Dr. Wooder was called in at last, he resided in Dulwich Road my son told me—I believe the prisoner suffered very much at the birth, she afterwards got over it and continued to live in the ordinary way with my son—they afterwards went to live at the "Exchange" in Lordship Lane, they were there about a month—I believe they lived in the same way there—I visited them once or twice—I ceased to live with them when they went there, there was no room in the house for me, so I went to live somewhere else—from there they went to live at "The Cottage," Merton Abbey, about two miles from Wimbledon—they were there about a year and nine months—I visited them there frequently and they were living together in the ordinary way as man and wife—they left there on the first of last September and went to Dover for a month, my son taking a season ticket—they returned from Dover the last day of September and I believe then went for a few days to an hotel in the Strand—in October they went to live at 85, Claverton Street, St. George's, I believe they lived there as man and wife for all I know—I believe, up to that period they lived together on affectionate terms, I know nothing to the contrary, and on the usual terms of man and wife—my son always enjoyed very strong health, he was a very hard working man—he had a doctor once, about thirteen years ago, for a slight bilious attack—Dr. Barraclough was called in, he was not laid up at all—I believe he insured his life, indeed I am sure he did—I knew what the policy was worth, I believe the date of it was in 1881—he once rather overworked himself in his business and he went a voyage—he did a little carpenter's work, he laid the floor in the house—he was away some week or a fortnight then—I used to visit at Claverton Street sometimes but I was only invited there once—up to the time of their going to Claverton Street I didn't know anything of the Reverend Mr. Dyson—I had never seen him—it was in the beginning of December last that I first heard of my son's illness—I went and

saw him, that was about the third day after he was taken ill—he complained to me of mercurial poisoning in his mouth, and then after that I went to see him—he had a bad mouth; he spoke of it in the prisoner's presence—that was on the first occasion of my finding him ill—he said the doctor said that he was suffering under mercurial poisoning—he was then in the front drawing-room, the bed-room was the back room—he was lying on a sort of chair bed, one of those iron couches—he was partially undressed—he appeared to me as if he was labouring under a narcotic, he appeared dazed—he didn't appear so sharp and fresh as he used to be—I called to see him perhaps six or seven times during his illness, I saw him three times—I cannot give the date of my second visit, I know I called on the Wednesday—the third time I saw him was when I was invited—I saw the prisoner twice—I cannot remember the dates, I didn't put it down—it was about eight or nine days I believe after the first visit, I saw her in the downstairs back room, the smoking room, she said he was too ill to see me—something was then said about verdigris poisoning—I don't remember what it was—I understood her that the doctor said there were symptoms of verdigris—she did'nt tell me who the doctor was that was attending him, it was a doctor up the street, I asked particularly who the doctor was but I was not told—during the illness she wrote to me from time to time informing me how he was, this letter (produced) is her writing and the envelope also (Read: "Dear Father, the doctor was very angry that I had permitted Edwin to see visitors last night, as it caused his head to be so bad, and he says no one is to be admitted unless he gives permission, Edwin is slightly better this morning, I will write to you every day and let you see and know how Edwin is. I can see myself how necessary it is that he should be kept calm—with love yours ADELAIDE.") This other letter is also her writing (Read; "Dear Mr. Bartlett, Edwin is up, he seems to have stood his teeth drawing very well, please do not trouble to come all this distance, it is not right to have visitors in a sick room, and I don't feel it quite right to leave Edwin so long alone while I am downstairs talking to you, when he wishes to see you I will write and let you know—yours ADELAIDE.") This is also her writing: "Dear Father, I fancy Edwin is slightly better this morning, the dysentery has left him, and he is certainly stronger, the doctor said last night that there was a slight improvement—with love, yours sincerely, ADELAIDE"—this is also her writing: "Dear Mr. Bartlett, Edwin is slightly better and is sleeping tolerably well"—this is another in her writing: "Dear Father, Edwin seems slightly better and has passed a restful night, I am expecting another doctor, so you must excuse this note, yours sincerely, ADELAIDE, December 21st, 1885"—this is also her writing: "My dear Dr. Bartlett, Edwin is not so well, he has passed a bad night, yours, ADELAIDE BARTLETT. A merry Christmas."—this is also her writing: "Dear Mr. Bartlett, Edwin will be pleased to see you on Monday evening from six to eight, he is still very weak and cannot bear visitors for long at a time—yours, ADELAIDE. Postmark, December 24th, 1885."—After that letter I went on the Monday—that was on the Monday before my son's death—I went there at half-past six in the evening—I saw the prisoner there—my son was in the front drawing-room—he was lying on the couch when I first saw him, on the same little iron bed—he was in a dressing-grown—I was with him two hours and a half—the prisoner said he was better, and he said he

was better—he said "I hope soon to be in business again and enjoy the evenings we have had before"—I used to go and see him every evening, always—I had been in the habit of seeing him at his place of business every evening with very few exceptions, I always called there, because I came down to the station, and then I called in before I went home—he seemed better and a deal stronger—he did not remain on the bed—he got up and walked about the room—I think something was said about his having worms; he said so and the prisoner did too—he said they were crawling all up him, and Mrs. Bartlett said "We call them snakes"—I believe that was the time the conversation took place—I said it was strange and my son said "a good job that she has doctored me to clear away the worms," because she knew he had worms—that was referring to his wife—nothing was said about the medicine he had been taking—there was something said about taking croton oil at one time, but whether that was the time the conversation took place I won't say—at one visit I remember their saying they had called in a physician, because I wanted to send down a physician from London—I spoke to my son and Mrs. Bartlett as well; no, it was Mrs. Bartlett, not my son—I spoke to her about it some time previous—I said we had better have a physician, as Edwin did not get any better—I said "I will send you one down from London," and she said "No, we cannot afford it"—I said "Nonsense, Adelaide, not afford it indeed"—"Well," she said, "we cannot"—I said "You had better," and she said "We cannot afford it, and he is going on very well"—I said nothing more to her then—on the Monday she told me they had had a physician, she didn't say who it was; she said her husband had had some teeth drawn out, and he said that he had had some stumps out—I left about half-past 8, or it might be nearly 9, on that Monday night, he seemed better then; he spoke about going down to Poole or Bourne-mouth, or somewhere in Devonshire—I think on the following Tuesday, that was the last time I saw him alive—I said "Good night" to him and to his wife just the same as I always have—I parted from her on the best of terms; I always did—I kissed her and shook hands with her, and wished her "Good night" as I had always done—there is a passage in this letter which says "I cannot forget or forgive the past"—there had been an unpleasantness six years ago, my youngest son had to go to America—I next received this telegram informing me of my son's death; I knew he was dying before I received it. (The telegram was: "Edwin is dead, come at once, Bartlett's. Postmark 1st January, 1886, handed in at 9.36 a.m.") I took it out of my letter box after Mr. Baxter called on me to say he was dead—I went to Claverton Street and got there I think something like half-past 12, but I cannot say, because I was dreadfully cut up at the time—I saw the prisoner in the drawing room where my son was lying dead; I hardly remember what she first said, she said "Edwin is dead"—Mr. Baxter was in the room at the time, he and I went there together—I don't think I saw Mrs. Matthews at that time—I saw my son lying on the couch, I went and kissed him and smelt his mouth; I thought he might have been poisoned with prussic acid, and I smelt it to find out, and I did not detect any smell of that kind—I did not kiss his mouth, I kissed his forehead—Dr. Leach was there, and I said "We must have a post-mortem, this cannot pass"—I believe I was admitted into the room at once when I went there—I don't think I saw anybody but Dr. Leach there; I fancy he came in afterwards, but I can't say, for

I was dreadfully cut up, seeing my son lying dead in a manner so unexpected—Dr. Leach mentioned Dr. Green and Dr. Dudley and himself for the post-mortem; Dr. Leach said there must be one and I said there must be one—Dr. Leach said "I cannot give a certificate without," and I said I must have another doctor; I did not suggest any name—Dr. Leach said "I will get you one," and I said "No, I will get one unconnected with the case or the neighbourhood"—I afterwards went with Dr. Leach and selected Dr. Cheyne, of Marylebone Place, to attend on my behalf—I went up that evening and said to the prisoner "You must have him put in the coffin"—she said "Dr. Leach has to see to that; it has nothing to do with me or you"—when I saw him in the coffin I said to the undertaker he had no business to be in that coffin, the post-mortem would have to be held first—the prisoner was saying what a generous man he was, but she said nothing more about the death—she said "What a kind-hearted man he was, he died with my arms round his feet, he always liked to hare my hand on his feet," and she showed me how she sat at the foot of the bed when he died—she said she was sitting with her arm round his feet, and she supposed she had been asleep, for she was awoke with a cramp in her arm, and she then went and called Mrs. Doggett. (Describing the position of things on the model.) The post-mortem was on the following day, the 2nd—I went there a little after 2, but I waited outside on the pavement till I saw Dr. Green come out; I then went into the house and saw the prisoner—very little was said; I saw her in the back smoking room, on the ground floor, speaking to Mrs. Matthews—I do not remember any conversation with me—I had not heard the result of the post-mortem then; we went upstairs and heard it, the prisoner was with me—we were summoned upstairs into the front room; Dr. Dudley and Dr. Leach were there—I think Mr. Baxter went up with me—one of the doctors said that they could find no cause of death in him—Dr. Dudley put his hand on my shoulder and said "He has no business lying there, a strong man like that"—at that time the prisoner had her hat on to go out, and her dressing bag was standing on the table—I wished her good-bye and kissed her—some of the doctors said that she could not remain there, and she went away, leaving her bag on the table—she had her cloak on—Mr. Wood, the solicitor, was in the room; I have known him years before, and her husband knew him years ago—some one said that I had better take charge of the room—I said "No, Mr. Wood is a solicitor, he will be the bent man to take charge of it"—I then left—I think I left one or two in the room; I think I left Dr. Leach there. (MR. WATERLOW, from the Registar's office, Somerset House, here produced the deceased's will.) I cannot swear that this is my son's writing, the signature is something like his; it is very different from what I have seen him write—the signature is very strong for his signature; to the best of my belief it is not his—I have seen it before at Somerset House—it is witnessed by H. Eustace and A. Brooke; I do not know their writing, they were two persons in my son's employ at Herne Hill, they were first and second hands there—it is written on paper and a stamp—I have some of my son's writing with his ordinary signature (Producing a letter)—this is his ordinary writing—the will does not look like his writing to me; I cannot swear to it.

  HEBERT EUSTACE . I was in the employment of Baxter and Bartlett, of Herne Hill—Arthur Brooks was employed in the same business—one

afternoon about the beginning of September, Mr. Bartlett, the deceased, called us into his office, saying, "I want you to witness my signature"—I saw Mr. Bartlett sign in the corner of the paper and I signed it and witnessed his signature—I did not know then what it was, we were all three together—this is my signature—I did not hear and could not see what the paper was, it was folded up—only we three were present—Mr. Bartlett was staying at Dover at that time—we both signed it in one another's presence and in his presence, and he signed it in our presence.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. He used to come from Dover in order to see to the business of the day.

  ARTHUR BROOKS . I was in the service of Baxter and Bartlett, of Herne Hill—this is my signature, I remember signing it—Mr. Bartlett also signed it and I and Eustace witnessed it—I did not know what it was when I signed it, I could not read it because the writing was turned away from me. (The will was fore read, "Herne Hill, S.E., 3rd September, 1885. I will and bequeath all my property and everything I am possessed of to my wife Adelaide for her sole use, and appoint George Dyson, B.A., Wesleyan Minister, and E. Wood, Solicitor, Gresham Street, to be my executors. Signed, Edwin Bartlett. Witnesses to my signature, Herbert Eustace and Arthur Brooks.") I have seen him often write several different hands, you could never depend on his writing being the same a second time.

  EDWIN BARTLETT (Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE.) I was not present at my son's marriage with the defendant—I did not disapprove of it, I did not much approve of it, but I did not say anything to my son about it—I was not asked to the marriage because they knew I was busy—at the time of his marriage he was living at Herne Hill, and after they were married she went to a school in London for about twelve months I believe—during the holidays she would come and live with my son—she first came to live with my son between two and three years after the marriage—I really cannot say whether it was in 1877 or 1878 that I went to live with my son, it was the year my wife died, it was before I wrote the apology—I would not undertake to say that the defendant lived with my son before the beginning of 1878, it may have been June, 1878—on the death of my wife my son promised me a home for life—she died on the 28th May in either 1877 or 1878, one of those years, I think it was 1877—very soon after Mrs. Bartlett came to live with my son I had to write an apology for things I had said to her, but I knew it to be false, I knew it to be the truth what I had said at the time, but I signed it to make peace because my son begged me to do so—I did it in Mr. Wood's office—I was stopping at 38, Berkeley Square, at the time. (The apology was here read as follows. "38, Berkeley Square, London, West, 31st December, 1878. Having made statements reflecting on the character of Mrs. Adelaide Bartlett, the wife of my son Mr. Edwin Bartlett, Junr., which statements I hare discovered to be unfounded and untrue, I hereby withdraw all such statements and express my regret for having made them. I also apologise to the said Mrs. Adelaide Bartlett and to Mr. Edwin Bartlett, Junr., and acknowledge that all such statements are altogether unfounded and untrue. I authorise Mr. Edwin Bartlett, Junr., to make what use he pleases of this apology.") I signed that to make peace with my son, that was all—I Know he did make use of that apology and at her suggestion he had it printed—the suggestions that I had made against Mrs. Bartlett were also against my son Fred, and if witnesses are

wanted to prove it, they can be had even now—I lived with my son and the prisoner somewhere about five or six years—he promised to give me a home for life; but he did not keep that promise because they removed to Lordship Lane, and there was not room for me there—I had from him what money I wanted, he was the kindest of sons—I knew during his lifetime that he had insured his life, I have heard the prisoner and him talk about it—when the will was put before me just now I said to the best of my belief it was not my son's signature—I went to Somerset House with Mr. Hooper, a lawyer of Clifford's Inn, and examined the will, and I have entered a caveat against it—my son was always very strong from a child and never had an illness that I know of—some years ago he had a considerable number of teeth sawn off at the same time, he wanted a false set—I was in the house at the time it was done—I believe it was at Herne Hill they were done, I am not sure; Mr. Bullen, a dentist, did it—they were all stuck together and they could not put others in—to my knowledge no doctor had attended him up to this time in 1879—in 1881 he broke down through overwork, through laying a floor he exerted himself too much, and his doctor recommended a sea voyage, and he went to Balmoral for a holiday—when he returned he went to a physician in London, I don't know who it was—Dr. Barraclough attended him once about twelve years ago for a billious attack and gave him one bottle of medicine—I did not know of my son having exceptional ideas on married life, he used to chaff and joke about such things, that was all—I never knew him have any solid ideas about anything different to other people; he said men ought to have two wives, one to take out and one to do the work—he said that when I was living with him—it was the first time I had heard him make the remark, he said it as I heard a man say last night he should like to have forty wives—he mentioned it before his wife, I only heard him make the remark once—he was a very merry man—I did not think it a curious observation, certainly nut, it was only a passing observation; I did not write it down but I have remembered it ever since—my son never to my knowledge had a book on that subject—I never heard of Dr. Nicholl's name till I was in court and I have never seen his book—my son was not a believer in mesmerism to my knowledge—he never spoke to me about it and I never heard from him of his mesmerising anybody else—he was nothing but business, he was wrapped up in his business—I visited them at Merton—I went and saw him at Dover and spent a very happy day there; I did not hear of Mr. Dyson then, nor that my son had offered him a season ticket to Dover; I only heard Mr. Dyson's name mentioned once before the death—I saw my son on the Wednesday, the 9th December, before I heard from Mr. Baxter of my son's illness—he complained of neuralgia in his mouth—in the nineteen days between that and the 28th December I went six or seven times to Claverton Street—I have produced all the letters in my possession, which I received during that time I believe; I tore none up and have no reason to keep any back; there might have been a post card as well—the first day I saw him he appeared suffering from some narcotic, and during the whole of his illness he did not appear as bright as he had formerly been, he did not appear inclined for talking much; the last time I saw him he talked more than he did before, he appeared stronger and better—the first day I went to see him it was in the evening I believe

—he complained of his head rather then—said he had got headache but made no great comment about it—he said something about having mercurial poisoning; Mrs. Bartlett mentioned it then or on another occasion, it might be they mentioned it together then—I was first examined before the Coroner on 7th January, when all these matters were fresh in my recollection—I said I last saw him on the 28th, and that he said he was getting very much better and would be at business again—I might have said before the Coroner that December 28th was the day upon which the conversation about the mercurial poisoning took place, but it was mentioned before that—I went to see him on Saturday, I won't say I saw him—I could not give the date of every day I saw him, I did not put it down—I think I saw him on Wednesday first—Mrs. Bartlett told me she had called in a doctor up the street, but I did not ask her his name—she seemed reluctant to say much about him—on the Saturday, the second time I saw him, I had a conversation with him—he appeared worse then—I do not know whether I suggested to him or to the prisoners having another doctor; they wore both in the room at the time—he would have heard the conversation; he was half lying down on the iron bedstead with half-closed eyes; he appeared to shut up his eyes and then open them again directly, he appeared to be labouring under something—the matter about the mercury and the verdigris is the only thing I recollect being stated by him when I first saw him, I am not positive, in general conversation you do not recollect every word—I told the Coroner that he said he was suffering from dysentery—I did not mention this before because you did not ask it—I came here not to keep anything back, but to speak the truth—either the prisoner or my son mentioned about dysentery; they were both talking about it in general conversation—I do not remember that dysentery was mentioned when I first saw him—if that letter says "Dear father," I received that shortly after I saw him on the Wednesday; the letters dropped off afterwards to "Dear Mr. Bartlett"—the letters have very likely got into the wrong envelopes—I went to see him on Sunday, and was refused admission to him; I will not undertake to say I did not see him—I received this letter from Mrs. Bartlett, in which she says, "I am expecting another doctor, so you must excuse this note," after I suggested sending a physician—when I saw Mrs. Bartlett afterwards they told me the other doctor had been, but I did not ask her his name, and I do not think she told me—it was Dr. Dudley—I would not undertake to say whether I was not told—the deceased told me he suffered from sleeplessness, and that they were injecting morphia into him for it—he also told me that his teeth were troublesome and painful, and they told me he had had a number of slumps drawn—he did not tell me "he had taken gas; he complained of the pain—previous to his illness he was not subject to low spirits—I once saw him crying; that was not the last time I saw him—when I last saw him he was very much better—he did not tell me how often he had taken morphia injections, but from his conversation I thought he had taken it once before the time he was speaking of then—he said, "I have had morphia injected again"—I do not recollect his telling me that on two successive days he had had morphia injected, and that his condition was so bad that on the third day he had had it injected twice in one day—he told me he was taking sleeping draughts—he also told me he felt worms crawling

all up him, that was the feeling—he did not tell me he had passed worms, but the prisoner said he had, in his presence, and he did not contradict her—he did not tell me he felt worms crawling up his throat, I won't be sure, he might have said so—I never heard him mention that he was likely to die, never the least idea of it, he was not a dying man—he never told me that he thought no man could be worse than he was, nothing of the kind—no other members of my family, as far as I know, visited at that house—there were other members—I don't think it was the last day I saw him (the 28th) that he mentioned about worms; it might have been—I think it was said before—I believe he said Dr. Leach was giving him croton oil for the worms—he did not say it was given him to rouse his bowels to action—he did not say Dr. Leach had given him two purgative draughts or had applied galvanism to the abdomen—he said nothing about galvanism—he did not tell me that on the previous Saturday all those remedies had been tried and had failed, and that Dr. Leach had given it up in despair—it was on my second visit, I believe, that I said to Mrs. Bartlett he had better have a physician—I actually received the telegram myself announcing his death about half-past twelve, after Mr. Baxter called on me, as I was at 38, Berkeley Square and not at my shop, where the telegram was delivered—we took a Hansom's cab, and got to Claverton Street between 12 and 1—I think I made a mistake before the Coroner when I said we got there at 4 o'clock—it was on the Saturday we got there at 4, not on Friday, 1st January—I went in with Mr. Baxter and went up with him at once—I have told you all I recollect on that day—I thins it was on the Saturday, when Mr. Baxter was not there, that she placed her arm round my neck and said "My dear father, don't fret; it shall make no odds to us; I shall see you never want; it will be just the same as if Edward was alive"—I made a mistake about that before; that was on the Saturday when they called us up to see the post-mortem examination—I corrected my mistake as soon as possible at the Treasury—I gave evidence before the Coroner in January and before the Magistrate in February—I said then Mr. Baxter was following us up, but I was wrong, he was not—it was said by Mrs. Bartlett to me—I did not say anything about it to-day, because I was not asked—on the Saturday I waited outside the drawing-room till the post-mortem was over and then I went in—I waited in the smoking-room with Mrs. Bartlett something like twenty minutes before we were summoned upstairs by one of the doctors—I, Mrs. Bartlett, and Mr. Dyson then went up together—that is to the best of my recollection—I believe the doctor summoned up me, Mrs. Bartlett, and all who were waiting—I went up directly, and saw Mrs. Bartlett's bag in the front room, on the table—I don't recollect that I said before it was on the dressing table; there was no dressing-table in the front room—one of the doctors, I think, said Mrs. Bartlett must not take the bag away, and they said she must not have her cloak—I said "Yes, Adelaide may take her cloak, there is nothing in it; no pockets in it"—she said "I don't want my cloak"—I said "Yes, you can have it; I will be answerable for it"—there were no pockets in it—I might have said before the Coroner that I felt for the pockets—I cannot say who told Mrs. Bartlett to go out of the house—she was inclined to take nothing; she did not want the cloak even—she had it, and nothing else, and left the house—when I went in the first time on 1st January I went

to smell the mouth for prussic acid—I suspected poison—I believe I have told the Jury substantially all the conversations that took place during the illness—there was nothing else that took place in my son's presence which suggested to me the idea of poison.

Re-examined. It was on the Saturday after the post-mortem when we had got to the foot of the stairs that the prisoner said "I will see you never want"—the apology I signed on 31st December, 1878, had reference to Adelaide some months before running away for a week or more—Edwin and I thought she had gone with my son Fred and we were after her—Fred appeared at Claverton Street on 1st January this year, according to Mr. Doggett, and announced himself as the brother of the deceased—the prisoner was away a week or more on that occasion—she had been away on other occasions—she returned and then Fred ran away to America in the June previous to my signing this apology—Adelaide was away with him only a day or two before he went, because Fred flew directly he was found out—I had scores of letters from him in America—I sent him money to come home, and his brother was going to give him a manager's place in one of the shops—I sent him 60l. in one year (that after he went) in order that he might come home, but I have not seen him since—I sent him no money recently—I signed this apology at Mr. Wood's office; he is in Court—he was then my son's solicitor—I had recommended him to him some years before—Edwin begged me to sign the apology to make peace—when my son said something about a man having two wives some remarks passed between the prisoner and me—it was over four years ago that my son went the sea voyage to Scotland—he was a very temperate man indeed—I understood Dr. Leach had injected the morphia—I was not told what it was for, but I took it that it was to produce sleep.

  EDWARD BAXTER . I live at 34, Deronda Road, Herne Hill, and was a partner with Mr. Bartlett, the deceased, for thirteen years—I knew him for over twenty years—I never knew him to be laid up ill until his last illness, with the exception of one occasion, when he had been carpentering and went away for the benefit of his health—he did not keep his bed on that occasion at all—I was not at the marriage—they lived at Station Road about five years and at the Exchange about twelve months—I had frequent opportunities of seeing them when they lived over the shop, and the terms on which they lived—as far as I knew they lived as man and wife there—we had six shops at the time of his death and the business was a prosperous one—we had made the business—the Station Road shop had been in existence about three years when I went there, but all the other shops we opened—on 8th December was the last time he was at business; he went home on that clay—on the 10th I received this letter from him. (This said that he little hoped to be at business the next day, but that he trusted to be better on Friday, so that he could mix the teas, and that if Mr. Baxter wished to see him he should call.) I am not certain if I called at Claverton Street that week, but I did the Sunday following—he appeared very ill indeed and was scarcely able to speak—he did not say what was the matter with him—he always mixed the teas with assistance—I did not do it—I and he did the tasting together—I have never found any ill-effects from tasting tea—perhaps I did not taste it to the extent he did—the following Sunday, the 20th, I called; he was better then—he said in Mrs. Bartlett's presence that he felt ill and hoped he would

very soon be better—that he was gradually improving—on the 27th I saw him; he was very much better, and on the Wednesday before his death I saw him, when he seemed quite cheerful and very much better, getting on very nicely—I stayed about two hours—Mrs. Bartlett was there during the time—it was said that they hoped the change of air at the seaside would prove beneficial and that he would be able in the course of a week or two to resume business—Bournemouth and Torquay were the two places named as to where he was going—I told him we were getting on very nicely in business—I did not see him again till after his death—this note is in Mrs. Bartlett's writing—I have put this date on (30th December) as the day I received it by post. (This requested him to send with other things, bottles of brandy, of mango chutnee, and of walnuts, and a fruit cake, and added, "I know these things are not fit for Edwin to eat, but he fancies them. You can see Edwin on Wednesday. A very happy new year!")—I brought those things to 85, Claverton Street on the Wednesday night, the 30th—I never saw Mr. Dyson when I visited at Claverton Street—on New Year's Day I received a telegram, about a quarter-past 9, at Station Road, and went to Claverton Street—I went up to the drawing-room, where I saw Mrs. Bartlett—I forget what she said to me—I fetched the father about half-past 11 from Berkeley Square, and went back with him at once to Claverton Street and upstairs with him.

Cross-examined. I don't know that Mr. Bartlett had worked particularly hard while staying at Dover—two or three times a week he would come by the boat express so as to get to Herne Hill as early as 6 o'clock in the morning, on the other days he would come by a train between 10 and 11 o'clock—he left business at that time, sometimes by the 4 o'clock and sometimes by the 8 o'clock train—he kept dogs at Herne Hill—on Friday, the 4th, previous to the 8th, he washed some of those dogs which were to be sent to a show—I did not connect that with his illness, for which I knew no cause—on the 8th he complained of feeling ill, and went away—Mrs. Bartlett wrote to me a short note nearly every morning during his illness—they were simply reports of how he was going on—I did not keep them—there was no special reason for my calling on the 13th—on the 13th I found him very ill, much depressed and low; he was scarcely able to speak—I believe they told me the doctor had been more than once a ay—he complained of sleeplessness—I understood that from Mrs. Bartlett's notes—I was told on the 20th something to the effect that the doctor was giving him sleeping draughts—on the 27th he was very much better; be told me that he could feel worms wriggling up in his throat—I did not know anything of his ideas about mesmerism or marriage—he was drawing about 300l. a year from the business—I am not aware that he had any other property.

F. H. DOGGETT. I live at No. 85, Claverton Street, with my wife, and am Registrar of Births and Deaths—that was my private address—in the early part of October the deceased and Mrs. Bartlett took two rooms communicating with folding doors, the drawing-room floor, at my house, and continued to occupy them till his death, living there as man and wife as far as I know—Mr. Dyson used to come there; I knew he was their friend—I knew Mr. Bartlett had been ill for some time—I never saw him to speak to—on 1st January, at 4.10 am., by the clock on my mantelpiece, Mrs. Bartlett came up and knocked at my

door, the second-floor front room—she said "Come down, I think Mr. Bartlett is dead"—I put on my dressing-gown and went down to her room—I saw her there—she asked me if I thought her husband was dead—he was lying on a bed in the drawing-room, on his back, with his left hand on his breast—I put my hand on the region of his heart, he was cold, and I said "Yes, he must have been dead some two or three hours"—she said "I had fallen off to sleep with my hand round his foot, and I awoke with a pain in my hand," or "arm, and found him lying on his face; I put him in the position in which you saw him, and tried to pour brandy down his throat"—she said nearly half a pint—I noticed that his eyes were closed—I asked whether she had closed his eyes; she said "Yes," his jaw was dropping—my wife then came into the room; the servant had gone for Dr. Leach—I noticed a strong smell in the room, like chloric ether—I did not smell anything else, but I saw a tray with some tumblers and a glass jug containing water, and I fancy there was a bottle on the tray containing some white powder—I saw a wine-glass on the mantel board, containing some dark fluid, about three-quarters of a wine-glass full—I smelt it—it smelt like brandy with some other drug like ether or paregoric—I put it back as I found it, on the corner of the mantel shelf nearest the bed—there was a table in the room—the only bottle I noticed was the one on the tray with the white powder; I looked round for the purpose, and I looked round the room again with Dr. Leach when he came—I saw no other bottle, either on the mantelpiece or table, or any other part of the room—Dr. Leach spoke to the prisoner and I left the room—I suggested that she should leave the room, but she remained with Dr. Leach, and they had some conversation in a corner of the room—I assisted Dr. Leach to tie the deceased's jaw up, and I put the legs straight, they were nearly cold; the left leg was slightly drawn up—Dr. Leach examined the body while I was present, and said he could see nothing to account for death—when I went into the room Mrs. Bartlett was dressed in a skirt and a loose jacket—the fire when I went in was a large one, and had evidently been tended within a short time of my going into the room—after assisting Dr. Leach I went down stairs, and about a quarter of an hour afterwards he came down, and I had some conversation with him, but Mrs. Bartlett was not present—I and my wife then went back to bed, leaving Mrs. Bartlett in the room where the body was—on the following morning about a quarter to 9 I saw her write out some telegrams—before I left the room that night I saw some Condy's fluid on a tray in a tumbler, more than half a tumbler of it—I saw no empty bottle—later in the same morning, after I got up again, the tray was brought down by the servant, and I saw an ounce phial inverted in the tumbler of Condy's fluid—there was no label on it—I handed the tumbler and bottle to Ralph, the Coroner's officer, and sealed it with my seal, and a telegram to the father was written and sent off, and one to the partner, and one to some lady at Dulwich—the bottle was like this (produced)—I afterwards heard of the post-mortem—there was nothing on the deceased eyes; he vas a short man, but rather stout—the bed is near the mantelpiece; I have been on it and tried it, and find that when lying on my back I can just reach the mantelpiece, anybody leaning on the bed could easily reach it, it would be rather more difficult sitting up—I can just reach it sitting up.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. The bed was lengthwise, longitudinally with the front wall of the room—I presumed they were man and wife when I let the rooms—I had only seen Mr. Bartlett once to speak to him, and had never been in their rooms—I was examined before the Coroner on 4th February; I couldn't say whether I mentioned the fire that day—I was recalled after my wife, and a question was put to me about the tire, and nothing else—when I went into the room I smelt something like chloric ether; that was not the smell I traced to the glass at the end of the mantelpiece—that glass was three-quarters or two-thirds full of a liquid which I took to be brandy, and when I smelt it, it was hardly the same smell which I smelt on going into the room; I think I said before the Coroner that it smelt like paregoric, and before the Magistrate I said that the glass smelt very like the odour which pervaded the room—I took it up and smelt it, and replaced it on the mantelpiece, and it remained there till Dr. Leach came; it was there while he and I were looking about the room, and it was brought down by the servant on the tray in the same condition in the morning, and I saw it by accident, with the bottle sticking out of the liquid, and I took it out with my fingers, looked it up in a cupboard, and afterwards gave it to Ralph—I thought it right that the bottle should be taken care of, but it did not occur to me to do the same with regard to the wine-glass—when Dr. Leach came and looked about the room I saw no bottle on the mantelpiece, and I do not think there was one—the mantel board made the mantelpiece longer—I had been in the room before, but not while Mr. Bartlett was there—the looking-glass being stood on the mantel board, would constitute a shelf, and come a little farther out than the looking-glass—there was a clock in the middle of the mantel board, and there were photographs, and two small vases, one on each side of the clock, and at each end of the mantel board there was a large vase—the only bottle I saw was the one on the tray, which contained some white powder, but there was a wine bottle three parts full of Condy's fluid; that was the only bottle I examined with the doctor; it was on the floor—I think the prisoner said that she felt "cramped" in her hand—she said that her husband had breathed heavily in the evening.

  CAROLINE DOGGETT . I am the wife of the last witness—Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett came to lodge with us on October 3rd, and Mr. Dyson came there within the first week—when Mr. Bartlett took the rooms he said that a gentleman would dine there once a week—he did not mention the name, but Mrs. Bartlett said "It is only a clergyman"—Mr. Dyson came twice or three times a week, and sometimes more—sometimes he came as early as 9.30 a.m.; he has stayed all day—Mr. Bartlett went out at 8 or 8.30 a.m. and returned to dinner between five and six—Mr. Dyson sometimes stayed till Mr. Bartlett returned; he had lunch with Mrs. Bartlett, and sometimes they went out together—I saw him twice in a blue serge lounge coat which was kept in the house for his use, I believe—a pair of slippers were also kept for him—Mr. Bartlett became ill about the beginning of December, two or three days before Dr. Leach was called in, and from that time he kept to his room, I believe—Mr. Dyson did not always go up to her room when he called; he would see Mrs. Bartlett downstairs—on the last day of December Mr. Bartlett dined on jugged hare about 3 or 3.30—he went out in the evening to have his teeth out, and when he came back he went into his room and sat down—I have

seen him very much worse than he was then—he said that he thought the worst was over, and that he should get better—Mrs. Bartlett was there then—he told me that Dr. Leach had ordered him to go to Torquay for a change—Mrs. Bartlett said that the journey would be too far—the supper was not taken up then—Mrs. Bartlett asked me, still in his hearing if I had ever taken chloroform, I said that I had years ago—she said "Was it a nice or a pleasant feeling?"—I said "I do not think I knew much about it"—she said that Mr. Bartlett was in the habit of taking some sleeping drops; ten was a strong dose, but she should not, or did not, hesitate in giving him twelve—she told me what the drops were, but I do not remember the name—Mr. Bartlett then thanked me for his dinner, and said that he had enjoyed it, and Mrs. Bartlett said that he had eaten all that was sent up, and had so enjoyed it that he would eat three dinners a day—he said that the mornings were getting lighter, and he should get up an hour earlier next day—he had a tea supper, half-a-dozen oysters, bread and butter and cake—I don't know whether he had any chutney—after that conversation I left the room, and about four o'clock the next morning I was called into his room and saw him lying dead—I asked Mrs. Bartlett if she had given him those drops—she said "I have given him nothing"—my husband was looking round the room, and I was by the side of the bed—there was a very good fire—afterwards on the same morning I went up to ask the prisoner if she would come down in the dining room to have a little breakfast, as she had not rang for it, and then she said how strange it was that Mr. Bartlett had not long made his will—I said "Are you thinking about money?" she said that it was necessary, as her money was in the business which she had before she was married, and it was before the Married Women's Property Act—Mrs. Matthews then came in, and I went downstairs.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARK. Her breakfast had not gone up when I asked her to have some, she had not arranged for any—I understood her that the money she had before she was married, was in the business, and unless there was a will she could not have her money, because it was under the Married Women's Property Act—she did not come down and have breakfast, I left her with Mrs. Matthews in the front drawing room—I have watched in a sick room at night, and know that the fire is made up for the night and packed, but the bed was so near the fire it would have been too hot for Mr. Bartlett, and the gas is alight—if you break up a fire several hours after it has been packed, it becomes a strong fire—the fire I saw had been attended to, it had not burnt hollow at all—either fresh coal had quite lately been put on, or a well packed fire had been disturbed with the poker, there was a bright light, the coals were quite lighted—Mrs. Bartlett was reading a book, while her husband and I were talking—he had been out that day to have his tooth operated upon about two hours before, he told me it was a sound one, (I heard nothing about his taking gas, I heard from Dr. Leach he had taken nitrous oxyde), he said the worst was over and he thought ho was getting better—at the other operation he had seven taken out one day, and he said they had frozen his gums and he did not feel much pain, and two days before that he had had 13 out—he did not say it was by ether spray: that was all he said—he began saying that it was very wonderful after going through the operation he could eat some of Mrs. Bartlett's hot buttered toast, he smelt it and asked for some, that was on the occasion he had the seven out—he said the result of freezing his gums was that he did not feel any pain—on the

first operation he had 13 stumps taken out, but I did not see him then; and he said he had had his gums frozen on both occasions—on this evening before his death when he told me about having the tooth out, he did not say he had taken nitrous oxide instead of having his gums frozen—I do not remember all the conversation, it was very late; the boy brought the medicine and I had to leave the room; Mrs. Bartlett mentioned the name of the medicine, but I do not remember it—she said that 10 drops was considered a strong dose—she did not say that Dr. Leach had given a prescription for 10 drops to be given if the pain was urgent or if sleep was required, or anything of that kind.

Tuesday, April 13th.

  ALICE FOULGER . I am servant to Mr. and Mrs. Doggett, of 85, Claverton Street—I remember Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett coming to live here some time in October, I waited upon them—after they came there I saw Mr. Dyson, he came the first week—he used to come about once or twice a week, and about a fortnight or three weeks before Mr. Bartlett's illness three or four times—I have known him to be there as early as 9 or hall-past, sometimes later—at that time Mr. Bartlett had gone to business—he used to go to business about 8 or half past sometimes, and usually came home between 5 and 6 in the evening; sometimes he went out again—Mr. Dyson has been there during the time Mr. Bartlett has been there, and hat stayed sometimes and dined with Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett—the usual time for dinner was between 5 and 6 o'clock—Mr. Dyson had an old coat that he used to put on, it was kept in the back drawing room, also slippers—while Mr. Dyson and Mr. Bartlett have been in the room together I have sometimes gone in—when I have gone in I have seen the window curtains pulled together and pinned—I have seen Mr. Dyson and Mrs. Bartlett sitting on the sofa together, also sitting on the floor together, Mrs. Bartlett having her head on Mr. Dyson's knee—Mr. Dyson was sitting on a low chair—I do not recollect when that was; I cannot say how long it was before Mr. Bartlett's death—I do not know what I went into the room for on that occasion, I went in in the ordinary way as a servant; I did not find the door locked—they did not do anything at all when I went in the room, they did not say anything or get up or move at all, they still sat as they were—I think that was the only occasion that I noticed anything of that kind when I went into the room—when Mr. Dyson came he would sometimes stay and have lunch with Mrs. Bartlett, and leave before Mr. Bartlett came home—the luncheon was between 12 and 1—I do not think I noticed anything else—on the day of Mr. Bartlett's death I took up the dinner—I had seen him from time to time during his illness; he had been out on that day—I took the dinner up at half-past 2 or 3, I am not sure which; it was jugged hare—Mr. Bartlett had his dinner, and afterwards had tea—he had some oysters during that day, he had them at 12 o'clock for luncheon—he had supper, of bread and butter and tea and cake—he had half a dozen oysters for supper—while Mrs. Bartlett was with him, and I was in the room, I never heard him say anything about himself during the day—his appetite appeared to be pretty good—orders were given to me for breakfast next day—with the supper the plates had been used for chutnee both by Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett—Mr. Bartlett gave me the orders for breakfast—he asked me to get him a large haddock; that was when t cleared the things away—there was tea and supper both together—it was

after the last meal; it was when I was clearing the things away—he said he should get up an hour earlier at the thoughts of having it—he sat up at the table and took his meals; I saw him in the room—he was walking round the room when he gave me the order, when I was clearing away the tea things—the last time I was in the room was 25 minutes to 11, when I last went up I took coals in—Mrs. Bartlett had spoken about it—she asked me to take the coals up for the night, and she put her finger up and told me not to go into the room again—she told me to take a basin up for the beef tea, and to put it outside on the table on the stair landing, outside the door on the first floor—she told me to take a basin up for the beef tea, and not to go into the room again; I was to put the basin outside on the table—there was a table on the landing outside—the basin I put there was empty—I think Mrs. Bartlett had Liebig's Essence, she kept it in the room—while Mr. Bartlett was ill I always took in the basin the last thing—I went to bed that night at something past 12—I slept at that time in the house—I was awoke about 4 in the morning—Mrs. Bartlett called me up, she came to my room; I got up—she asked me to go for Dr. Leach—she did not come into the room—I got up and lighted a light—she said "Alice, I want you to go for Dr. Leach, I think Mr. Bartlett is dead"—I said, "Don't say that"—she did not reply—she had on a light dress at the time—I noticed it was light in colour—she was not wearing that dress when I left her overnight—I then got up and went down—I at once left the house to go for Dr. Leach—I do not know how many minutes' walk it is—it is not very far—it is about five or ten minutes walk—I roused Dr. Leach, and told him what was the matter, and brought him back with me—Mrs. Doggett opened the door to us—I had not seen any one before I left the house to fetch Dr. Leach—it was about four o'clock—from the time that I was called and brought Dr. Leach to the house I could not say how long I was gone—I had to stand knocking for Dr. Leach some time—I do not know how long it was from the time Mrs. Bartlett came and told me to fetch Dr. Leach, that Mr. Bartlett was dead, to the time that Dr. Leach came back with me to the house—I did not notice the time when he came back—I could not swear how long it was—Dr. Leach came back and went into the room upstairs—I went, into the room about half-past five or six in the morning—I went into the front drawing-room—I saw a lot of glasses—some of them were on the table in the room—there was a tray there—I did not remove it at the time, but I did afterwards—I removed it about half-past eight or nine—there were several glasses on it—I took them downstairs into the ante or smoking-room—I left them there—I afterward washed them all except one—some were tumblers and some wineglasses—I noticed when washing them one glass had something in it; I thought it was brandy—it was about half-full, I think—I say it was brandy from the smell and colour—I washed it away—the one I did not wash was given to the Coroner's officer—it was a tumbler with a bottle turned down, containing some liquid—the bottle was turned into it, with the mouth downwards, in the tumbler—the Coroner's officer, Ralph, took charge of that—I saw Mrs. Bartlett the same morning—she gave me some letters to post—one was addressed to Mr. Dyson, and one to Mr. Wood—I posted those—it was in the morning, I think—I am not sure whether it was in the morning—I cannot say the time—I had taken no telegram—I did not see Mr. Dyson the next day—I saw Mr. Dyson on

the Saturday morning—he came to the house—Mrs. Bartlett was still there—he went up into the room where Mrs. Bartlett was—I do not know if I showed him up—Mrs. Bartlett slept in the house, in those rooms—I beard nothing of what passed between Mr. Dyson and Mr. Bartlett on the Saturday—after that Mrs. Bartlett left the house—it was on the, Saturday, while Mr. and Mrs. Doggett were out—I next saw her on the next Wednesday, 6th January—Mrs. Mathews was there then; she came back with her—Mrs. Bartlett came for some of her things.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I cannot remember when it was that I saw the curtains pinned together—I cannot say whether it was a week or month or three months before Mr. Bartlett's death—they were long white curtains that came down to the ground—they generally hung close together from top to bottom; that was their usual condition, whether pinned or not—Mr. Bartlett slept on the iron bedstead in the front room from the beginning of his illness, and after that Mrs. Bartlett would sleep on the sofa, or on a chair in the same room—she did not use the bed in the back room—she attended to him, and made beef-tea for him—the head of the iron bedstead was near the fireplace—the piano was mostly at the foot of the bed—the drawing-room had two windows—Mrs. Bartlett moved the piano from the corner of the room, against the foot of the bed, along the side—I don't know when it was moved—there was a book-case between the windows, and Mrs. Bartlett moved that to the other side of the room—there were folding-doors between the two rooms—the sofa was a heavy one, and was against the folding-doors, and kept them closed—Mrs. Bartlett in going from one room to the other would have to go out on the staircase—she often used the washing-basin in the back room quite late before settling herself for the night—I don't remember whether it was used on the night of the death—I don't know what I went up for when I found Mr. Dyson sitting on a chair, and Mrs. Bartlett with her head on his knee—I don't know whether I went to take letters or not—I could not say whether I had been rung for, or not; I believe I was—there were books on the table—Mr. Dyson was sitting in front of the fire near the table—I usually took up a supply of coals in the evening, for the night—on this evening Mrs. Bartlett told me to bring up the coals, and at the same time to bring an empty basin—I think I went out for Mr. Bartlett's breakfast before I took the coals, up—I think I took up the coals and the basin together—I think I took the coals in and left the basin outside; she told me not to take it into the room—I took the coals up first, but not the basin; I went down again for it—when I took in the coals Mr. Bartlett was in bed—it was when I was clearing away the tea that he was walking about—when I took in the coals Mrs. Bartlett told me I might put the basin on the table, and not to come in again—I should pass the basin as I went up to bed—I did put it on the table, and I found it there untouched the next morning—Mrs. Bartlett generally went out in the day for a walk—I don't know whether she had been to the dentist's that day with her husband—she had a walking dress on that evening when they were having supper, a dress that she usually went out for a walk in—when she came to call me at four in the morning she had on a light and looser dress; it was a dress that she used to go out in for a walk sometimes; I am sure of that—I jumped up as quickly as I could when she called me, and went for Dr. Leach and brought him back as quickly as I could—I did not go to bed

again after that—I took the glasses down, and Mr. Doggett saw them before anything was done with them—I helped to pack Mrs. Bartlett's boxes when she went away—I did not see any medicine chest or anything of that kind.

  ANN BOULTER . I live at 1, Great Peter Street, Westminster—I am a charwoman and I am sometimes employed by an undertaker—I went to 85, Claverton Street on New Year's morning between seven and eight—I saw the dead body and washed it and laid it out, Mrs. Bartlett helped me—the legs were tied—I asked Mrs. Bartlett if he had had a fit—she asked why I asked—I said I thought he might have struggled, as his legs were tied—she said "No, poor dear, he suffered very much with his head, also his teeth for some time"—she remarked that it was curious or funny that he should make his will a day or two previous to his death—I said it was so, and asked if it was in her favour, and she said yes.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. All she said about his illness was that his head had been bad and that he had suffered very much with his teeth—I did not notice his teeth, his mouth was closed—I called Mrs. Bartlett's attention to the legs being tied together—I don't think there was any more conversation than I have told—I am sure she said the will was made a day or two previous to his death, not two or three months before—while I was there a letter came for Mr. Bartlett, Mrs. Bartlett opened it—I understood her it was from the deceased's brother, she did not say where from; she said, "Oh, this is cruel"—I asked her what was cruel—she said that the letter had just come from his brother wishing him a happy New Year, and she said how cruel it was that it should arrive while he was lying dead.

  WILLIAM CLAPTON . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, of 27, Queen Street, City—I am one of the medical officers of the British Equitable Life Assurance Company—on 15th November, 1880, I examined Thomas Edwin Bartlett for the purpose of insuring his life, these (produced) are the papers and memoranda made at the time—the insurance was effected—this is the policy, it is for 400l., the usual premium, it was a first-class life—I examined him in the ordinary way to ascertain whether it was a good life to take—he was suffering from no illness whatever—I passed him as a first-class life.

  GEORGE DYSON . I am a Wesleyan minister—at the beginning of this year I was living at 18, Parkfields, Putney, where I had lived since the beginning of September—I made the acquaintance of Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett about twelve months previous to last January or February, they were then living at The Cottage, Merton Abbey—I was in charge of a small chapel in the High Street, Merton—they attended the services, and I called upon them as members of the congregation—they continued to attend until they left the neghbourhood—I called upon them again in June and took tea with them, and I afterwards called upon them frequently—Mr. Bartlett requested me to call oftener than I had done previously—I called on the following Wednesday and spent the evening with them—they left Merton about the end of August or beginning of September; and at that time I went to Trinity College, Dublin, to take my degree of B.A., and was away about a week; on my return Mr. Bartlett told me he would like Mrs. Bartlett to take up her studies again and requested me to take the supervision of them, and accordingly from time to time I called upon her and gave her lessons in Latin and history, and we took up geography and mathematics—besides calling upon Mrs.

Bartlett in this way, she called upon me at Wimbledon, or I should say, rather, that I took her to my apartments, with her husband's knowledge—I became on very intimate terms with both Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett—at the commencement of September they went to Dover, and were away about a month—Mr. Bartlett requested me to go down there and see them—on the first occasion I went Mr. Bartlett took me and paid the fare—on the second occasion I believe I paid my own—they appeared there to live as man and wife—while they were at Dover Mr. Bartlett wrote to me and I replied. (Letters read: "Dear George, permit me to say that I feel great pleasure in thus addressing you for the first time, to me it is a privilege to think that I am allowed to feel towards you as a brother, and I hope our friendship may ripen as time goes on without anything to mar its future brightness. Would that I could find words to express my thankfulness to you for the very beautiful loving letter you sent Adelaide to-day; it would have done anyone good to see her overflowing with joy as the read it whilst walking along the street, and afterwards as she read it to me I felt my heart going out to you. I long to tell you how proud I felt at the thought I should soon be able to clasp the hand of the man who from his heart could pen such noble thoughts. Who can help loving you. I feel that I must say to you two words, 'Thank you,' and my desire to do so is my excuse for troubling you with this. Looking towards the future with joyfulness I am yours, affectionately, EDWIN." "18, Parkfields, Putney, 23rd September, 1885. My dear Edwin,—Thank you very much for the brotherly letter you sent me yesterday. I'm sure I respond from my heart to your wish that our friendship may ripen with the lapse of time, and I do so with confidence, for I feel that our friendship is founded on a firm abiding basis, trust and esteem I have from a boy been ever longing for the confidence and trust of others. I have never been so perfectly happy as when in possession of this. It is in this respect, among many others, that you have shown yourself a true friend. You have thanked me, and now I thank you. Yet I ought to confess that I read your warm and generous letter with a kind of half fear, a fear lest you should ever be disappointed in me, and find me a far more prosy, matter-of-fact creature than you expect. Thank you, moreover, for the telegram; it was very considerate to send it. I am looking forward with much pleasure to next week. Thus far I have been able to stave oft my work, and trust to be able to keep it clear. Dear old Dover, it will ever possess a pleasant memory for me in my mind and a warm place in my heart. With very kind regards, believe me, yours affectionately, GEORGE.") Afterwards they went to live at 85, Claverton Street, and I went to live at 18, Parkfields, Putney—that was early in September—I had then a season ticket on the railway from Putney to Waterloo, which was given to me by Mr. Barrlett—my chapel at this time was at Putney; I had moved from the small one of which I first had charge, to a larger one at Putney—my name was put on the notice board outside as the minister—I do not think Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett came to that chapel—I visited from time to time at claverton Street—on my first visit there I remember a conversation with Mrs. Bartlett about her husband—I remarked how her husband seemed to throw us together, and asked how it was; I thought it remarkable—she told me that his life was not likely to be a long one, and that he knew it, and she repeated what he had told me himself—she said his

friends were not kind to her, that they did not understand her, being a foreigner, that he had confidence in me and affection for me (I am giving you the words as nearly as I can recollect them), and he wished me to be a guardian to her, he knew I should be a friend to her when he was gone—it was either then or later I asked her what was shortening his life, and she told me that he had an internal complaint, that he had had it for some years, I think she said five or six, and that she herself had been his nurse and had doctored him, and this was by his express wish, she said that he was very sensitive about this affliction, and on that account he had had no regular doctor to attend him—that is what I remember—later she told me that the disease caused him very great pain, and to soothe him she had been accustomed to use chloroform—she told me that she went for advice to Dr. Nichols, of Thorpestone Road, Earl's Court—she also said that Annie Walker came to see her occasionally, and brought her what medicine she needed—she said that on one occasion Annie Walker had brought her chloroform—I remember nothing more; I do not remember anything further being said by Mrs. Bartlett about Mr. Bartlett's illness beyond the internal complaint—nothing was said to me about his death—she said that Dr. Nichols had stated that he might die within 12 months, that would be from the time that Mrs. Bartlett was speaking to me—she did not say when Dr. Nichols had seen him last—I did not know Dr. Nichols, or that there was such a person. Q. Up to the time that this first conversation at Claverton Street took place with Mrs. Bartlett, what had been the state of his health? A. He seemed to be in good health as far as I could judge, except that he was very weary and very tired when he returned from business—he returned from business at various times, sometimes about 10 o'clock at night, at other times to dinner, about 5 o'clock in the afternoon—he appeared to me to have very severe pains in his left side; he would put up his hand quickly and press his hand there—he told me that he had suffered from dyspepsia severely, and he mentioned a severe illness he had some years previously, and said that on that occasion his wife was up for a fortnight with him and nursed him very faithfully—as far as I recollect his illness then was from dyspepsia or dysentery—during my visits to Claverton Street I continued to give lessons, instruction to Mrs. Bartlett—I used to go two or three times a week, generally about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, and on one occasion I went at half-past 9 o'clock in the morning—I was not there very much—Mrs. Bartlett, Mr. Bartlett, and myself left that day to go to the St. Bernard Dog Show—my stay in the afternoon depended upon what engagements I had at my own church; I should leave about half-past 4 if I had an evening engagement, otherwise I should remain during the evening—I still continued on very intimate terms with both Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett—Mr. Bartlett's illness commenced about 10th December—I went to the house whilst he was ill; I think I saw him on the day he was laid up, and probably two or three days before—he was in bed the first time I saw him, in the drawing-room, on the small bed; Mrs. Bartlett was nursing him—I knew I was an executor to the will; I first heard that about the middle of September, Mr. Bartlett had informed me—he told me that he was suffering from dysentery; I heard also that he was suffering from worms, he told me so himself—I heard that Dr. Leach was attending him—when I saw him on Boxing Day he seemed very

prostrate, and he told me that he was suffering from (sleeplessness, and he regretted it because it kept Mrs. Bartlett from having any sleep—in Christmas week I went home to Poole—he said he was glad that I had returned, as he was afraid she was breaking down through nursing him—I was with him on that day from about 2 till 7 or 8 o'clock—he seemed very much depressed—he seemed brighter on the Saturday, and depressed on the Sunday, the 27th—on that Sunday night Mrs. Bartlett and I were going to the post-office about half-past 9, when she told me she wanted some chloroform, and that Annie Walker had bought some before—she said she wanted it to soothe her husband and give him sleep, and she asked if I could get some for her—I said I would, and I did—she said she wanted it for external application—she told me Annie Walker was gone to America, and she knew of no one else who could get it but me.

By the COURT. Did it not occur to you that there was a doctor in attendance? Oh yes—I asked her to get it through the doctor, and she told me he did not know she was skilled in drugs and medicines; and not knowing that, he would not entrust her with it—she had mentioned that she had a medicine chest, and that she understood medicine—she said the chloroform was to put him to sleep—she meant to use it sprinkled on a handkerchief for him to inhale it.

By MR. POLAND. I understood that I was to get the ordinary draught bottle—she said that it was volatile, quickly used, and that she would require about that amount—she did not state the size of the bottle, but I understood her to mean the ordinary draught bottle—I cannot recall anything further that she said about it—we returned to the house in about a quarter of an hour—she gave me money to buy the chloroform—I think it was a sovereign, but I will not be sure—I did not say anything to Mr. Bartlett about the intended purchase of chloroform—I first wrote to a medical student about the chloroform, named Theodore Styles, of Poole, and asked him if he would get me some—he lives at Bristol, at the Medical College—I got no answer and I telegraphed to him; I think he had returned to Poole, he was a friend of mine—I did not get it through him—on the Monday, the 28th, I purchased the chloroform—I first went into an oil and colour shop, mistaking it for a chemist's—then I went into Mr. Humble's, at 190, Upper Richmond Road, Putney, between nine and ten o'clock—my chapel was about 50 yards from the shop—I purchased an ounce bottle full, for which I paid 1s. or 1s. 3d.—I am not sure which—I was asked whether I wanted camphorated chloroform, and I said "No—pure chloroform"—I asked for some chloroform—I did not say any particular quantity—he asked me whether I wanted camphorated chloroform, at the same time touching his mouth as if to ask whether I wanted it for teeth—I did not answer that question, but asked another—I asked him whether it was good for taking out grease stains—he told me it was—there was a piece of leather tied over the stopper—it was labelled "Chloroform," and the bottle had the word "Poison" upon it, but I cannot say whether there was a leather tied over the stopper to keep it in, and it was labelled "Chloroform," but I can't say whether "Poison"—I think some bottles had "Poison" on, but I cannot say which—it had the chemist's usual label with his name and address on—the next shop I went to was Penrose's, at Wimbledon, that is the business of Cadman and Co., The Ridgeway, Wimbledon; Mr. Penrose is the manager; that is three miles from Mr. Humble's—I

had known Mr. Penrose about twelve months before, I should think; he was an occasional hearer at a chapel where I officiated; I knew him well—I asked him for some chloroform for taking out grease stains which I had got down at Poole—I forget whether I asked for the quantity or not; he offered me an ounce bottle first, and then when he had made that up I asked for another one, and I bought the two—I don't remember the price of them—they were probably labelled "Chloroform" and "Poison"; the chemist's usual label with his name and address was on them—I next went to Mr. Bellens, a chemist, of 36, High Street, Wimbledon; I had known him personally for eighteen months, and I knew the other chemist eighteen months; I said twelve before—Mr. Bellens was a member of my congregation; I asked him for some chloroform and gave the same reason; I bought either two ounces or an ounce and half there, I don't know which, it was in one bottle—I don't remember what it was I paid him for it—it was in a bottle like that one (produced) and had some letters sunk into the glass—the last purchase I made was about two in the middle of the day—I then took the four bottles to my house at Putney and poured all the chloroform from them into a white square medicine bottle similar to that one (produced) which I had got from my landlady—I don't remember whether I cleaned it out, probably I did—I then took the label with "chloroform" on it off the blue bottle and put it on this bottle—all the chloroform bottles were not blue, three were white ones—Mr. Bellens' bottle was blue and I took the label off that, on which was "Chloroform, Poison"; I won't be sure whether "Poison" was on it, but I think it was—I wetted the label and got it off—the four empty bottles were left at my lodgings—I then took the bottle containing the chloroform on the following Tuesday, between two and three as far as I remember, to Claverton Street, and there saw Mrs. Bartlett, and whilst we were out for a stroll on the Embankment I gave it to her, and asked her if that would do, and she said it would—I also think I told her some of it was methylated; either then or later, it must have been then I should think—she had not told me what sort to get—I gave her the change at some time, but I don't remember when—I then went back with her to Claverton Street and saw Mr. Bartlett, and remained with him until about six or seven, he was up and dressed—he seemed very weak, but seemed brightened by the fact that he had gone out for a drive, and he was still troubled with his sleeplessness—I called again on the Wednesday and saw him in bed, he appeared to be the same, I don't recollect any difference—I also saw Mr. Bartlett, and apologised to her for something she was offended at which I had said on the previous day, the Tuesday—I had advised her to get a nurse to assist her, consequent upon her telling me that the friends were saying unkind things about her, that she was not giving him full nursing attention—I don't remember that she mentioned the names of the friends when she said that I told her it would be better in the eyes of the world if she were to have a nurse with her, meaning that that would stop them, and she was offended at that, she said that I suspected or did not trust her; I told her that I did thoroughly trust her, and Mr. Bartlett overheard it—this occurred in the room after the walk—Mr. Bartlett did not hear the whole of it, he heard that exclamation and saw I was distressed with it—he was walking at out the room and he said "Oh yes, you may trust her; if

you had twelve years, experience of her as I have you would know you could trust her"—and it was in consequence of that I returned on the Wednesday, I was troubled about it—I don't think Mrs. Bartlett was in the room, Mr. Bartlett was in bed alone when I was shown into the front room, and I told him I wished to see Mrs. Bartlett, and I then apologised to her for what had taken place on the previous Tuesday—I saw her downstairs, and repudiated the idea—I told her I was distressed that she should think such a thing—that was between ten and eleven in the morning—I then left the house and did not return again that day—I went on the next day, Thursday, the 31st, in the afternoon, and saw Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett; he seemed nervous and was in great pain from his teeth and said he was expecting the doctor, and asked me to call and tell him to come, and I went to Dr. Leach but did not see him, and left a message with the servant—I returned directly to the house and saw the doctor at claverton Street, in the front room; after he was gone, Mrs. Bartlett said that the doctor said necrosis, mortification, of the jaw had set in—I left about half-past 4 to 5 o'clock, that was the last time I saw Mr. Bartlett, he was then up and getting ready to go to the dentist's, if I remember rightly—I did not go to the house on the Friday, but received a letter from Mrs. Bartlett, which I destroyed a few days after I had received it—in it I was addressed as Mr. Dyson, I think, and it said it was her grief to tell me that Mr. Bartlett had died somewhere about 2 o'clock as far as she could judge, and it requested me to call and see him on the Saturday, about the middle of the morning—I believe I was addressed inside the letter as "Dear Mr. Dyson," she used my Christian name in some letters, but I cannot swear to this particular one—I called on Saturday, the 2nd, about 11 or 12 o'clock, I think it was, and saw Mrs. Bartlett in the front room upstairs, Mr. Bartlett had then been moved into the back room—she asked me if I did not consider it was sudden, and I said it was very sudden—she then said "I was sitting; by the bedside reading, and I had my hand or arm round Edwin's foot, "and I think she said she dozed off to sleep, and woke and heard them wishing each other a Happy New Year downstairs, and then she heard her husband breathing heavily, and fell asleep again, and when she woke, through a feeling of pain in her arm, she found Mr. Bartlett turned over, and she expected that the turning over had caused this cramp in the arm; that she gave him brandy and then roused the household—she also said the doctor had ordered a post-mortem, and that it was to be held in the afternoon—I asked her what he had died from, and she said the doctor told her that he thought some small blood-vessel must have broken near the heart or on the heart, I cannot be sure which she said—I remained with her till the post-mortem in the afternoon—I, and she, and Mr. Wood the solicitor, and my executor, were downstairs during the post-mortem, and after it was over we went upstairs to hear the result; Mrs. Bartlett went up with us, and Mr. Bartlett senior was there at the latter part—we all went into the front room, and Dr. Leach communicated the result to us; he said they had conducted a very careful post-mortem examination, and had failed to discover the cause of death, and that the rooms were to be sealed and locked and handed over to the Coroner, and I heard the instructions given to seal the door—I then went between four and five o'clock with Mrs. Bartlett to Mrs. Matthews's, 98, Friern Road, East Dulwich, they are friends of Mrs. Bartlett—on the way there I asked

her if she had used the chloroform, and she said "I have not used it, I have not had occasion to use it; the bottle lies there just as you gave it me; this is a very critical time with me"—she also told me to put away from my mind the fact that she had possessed this medicine chest, and that I had given her the chloroform, and I must not worry her about it; I cannot remember what answer I made, but I told her that I should see the doctor and ask him about the post-mortem—I went into Mrs. Matthews's house, and Mrs. Bartlett introduced me to her as Mr. Dyson, and then she told Mrs. Matthews of the post-mortem; and she told me to the effect that she had come to stay with her—I do not recollect anything else occurring there—I next saw Mrs. Bartlett on Monday, the 4th, at Mrs. Matthews's, she was alone—I had that day seen Dr. Leach, and he showed me before I went to the house some notes of the post-mortem, and read them to me—I then went direct from Dr. Leach to Mrs. Bartlett, at Mrs. Matthews's, and asked her what she had done with the chloroform, and she was very angry with me and said" Oh, d—the chloroform," and stamped her foot on the ground and rose from her chair—Mrs. Matthews then came in and then retired again, and I had a further conversation with Mrs. Bartlett—when Mrs. Matthews came in she asked her what she was troubled about, but I don't remember her reply—when she had gone I told Mrs. Bartlett I had been to see Dr. Leach, and that either chlorodyne or chloroform, some drops of it, had been found in the stomach of the deceased, Mr. Bartlett—then she asked me to tell her which it was, whether chlorodyne or chloroform, and I told her I was not quite sure, that I confused the two—then I spoke to her about her husband's sickness, of which she had told me, I forget at this time exactly what I said—I asked Mrs. Bartlett again whether she had not told me, or rather I emphasised the fact to her that she had told me her husband was suffering from this internal affliction, and probably then I spoke of the fact that nothing was said about this affliction in the post-mortem, and I asked her if she did not tell me that her husband's life would be a short one—I said "You did tell me that Edwin was going to die shortly"—she said she did not—I said that I was a ruined man—Mrs. Matthews had come into the room at that time—Mrs. Bartlett said I had better leave—I don't think I said anything more—I then left, but before doing so I asked her for a bit of poetry, and she said it was at Claverton Street—it was a piece of poetry I had written about her, and which I had given to her some weeks previously; her husband read it—I saw her again on the same night at Mrs. Matthews's, and spoke to her about the chloroform—I told her I was going to make a clean breast of the affair, that I should tell everything I knew about it; I cannot say if that was on that occasion or whether it was earlier in the day that I said it; when she referred to that fact I said I would do so—I cannot tell you what she said, but the substance of it was, she told me not to say anything about the chloroform—I repeated my intention and said I was very much perplexed and alarmed, and that the best thing I could do in this matter was to tell what I knew of the matter, and of my having bought the chloroform; I do not remember what she said to that—I also returned her a watch which she said had been left to me by her husband; it was his wish that I should have that watch in memory of him when he was gone—she had given it to me on the Saturday before the post-mortem; I cannot tell you the exact words I said when I

returned it, but the substance was that I should not keep it—I also gave her the money for a cheque for 5l., which she had asked me to change; I gave her 4l.—I believe it was her husband's signature—I had received the cheque from her two or three weeks before for expenses which I had been put to when I was with them at Dover; she told me it was Mr. Bartlett's wish that I should not suffer any expenses owing to my connection with them—I cannot remember when I had given her the change for the sovereign to buy the chloroform—up to this time the four bottles were still at my lodgings—I thought you were speaking of Saturday—I had thrown them away on Wandsworth Common on the Sunday morning on my way to church at Tooting—I have pointed out to one of the officers in the case where I threw them—I threw them away as I walked along the path; I had them in my pocket, and I threw them at the side out from the road on to the Common at my left hand—with the exception of the one I took the label off, they would have labels on I presume—I threw them away just as I had taken the stuff out of them—on Tuesday the 5th I went and saw a solicitor, and he gave me some letters for Mrs. Bartlett, which I took to her at Mrs. Matthews's, but I did not see her—I did not leave the letters, I took them to her on Wednesday—they were some sorted letters, two or three dozen I should think, letters of Mr. Bartlett's which I had been sorting with Mr. Wood at his office, addressed from various people—the first time I saw the will it was in Mr. Wood's possession—when I gave her the letters Mrs. Matthews and she were going to Claverton Street; so I fetched a cab for them, and went with them to peckham Rye Station and to Claverton Street—there was sure to have been some conversation, probably about Mr. Bartlett's death, and the chloroform, I really cannot remember—I have a general impression of the different conversations I had with her, and in some cases I can give you the words—I came down to Victoria by train with them, and went to buy some cord for Mrs. Bartlett's boxes, and arranged to meet them at Dr. Leach's, and went there, and they had gone on to Claverton Street—I saw Dr. Leach, and inquired of him for Mrs. Bartlett, and Mrs. Matthews and he told me they had gone on to the house; and as I was leaving he gave me Mrs. Bartlett's keys, and told me that the Coroner had done with the rooms, and requested me to take the keys to her—I went to Claverton Street, and afterwards saw Mrs. Bartlett outside the door, and gave her the keys, and said that the doctor had asked for her, and then went with her and Mrs. Matthews to Dr. Leach—I saw Mrs. Matthews in the ante-room at Dr. Leach's—the inquest was fixed for January 7th, the following day, at Pimlico, near the Buckingham Palace Road—I attended, and Mrs. Bartlett—I was not represented then—I heard the witnesses examined, and then the inquest was adjourned to February 4th—after the inquest I went with Mrs. Bartlett to Mr. Stuart's, a confectioner's, and had some dinner—we were in a private room behind the shop, and were together there about an hour, and we talked together on the whole question—we discussed the recent events, the post-mortem, my having bought the chloroform, and so forth—she told me I was distressing myself unnecessarily, and I gave her to understand that I thought I had reasons to be alarmed, and she said if I did not incriminate myself she would not incriminate me, and I told her I was aware of my perilous position, but was

not afraid to stand by the truth as it affected me, and should persist in my intention of making a full and complete statement—I was aware that the contents of the stomach had been sent to be analysed—on Saturday the 9th I met her accidentally at Mr. Matthews's place of business, and returned with both of them to Mr. Matthews's home—we discussed the subject again—I was anxious to know what really had become of the chloroform—I told her that I was puzzled—she was indignant at me and asked me why I did not charge her outright with having given it to him—I can't tell you in a word what I said, but in effect I said I was not prepared to do such a thing as that—I believe it was on that occasion she told me she had poured the chloroform away and had thrown away the bottle out of the carriage window, as she was returning from London to Peckham Rye, on Wednesday the 6th, that is the station near the Matthews's—I made a communication to Mr. Matthews—after the 9th I saw no more of Mrs. Bartlett—I attended the adjourned inquest on February 4th, I was subpoenaed to attend, I presume I was cautioned by the Coroner; it was adjourned to the 11th—after I gave evidence that day Mrs. Bartlett was arrested, I believe—I was examined again on the 15th and for a third time on the 18th briefly, and then arrested on the charge of wilful murder, and afterwards taken before a Magistrate and committed for trial—I am twenty-eight years of age now—I have kissed Mrs. Bartlett in her husband's presence—by the rules of the Wesleyan body there is a probation of from six to seven years after entering the ministry, before you can marry—I made a mistake and said that I had two years to wait, I find it is only one, that is to say I could have been married next October or thereabouts—I lived at Thornton Road, Wimbledon, the last three weeks, not in the High Street.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. The last day I had conversation with the prisoner was the 9th, she was indignant and asked me why I did not charge her outright with having given chloroform to her husband—it was from her lips that I first heard that suggestion, she was very indignant, I have had no communication with her since—I have kissed her in her husband's presence—there was no secret between us or any secret understanding apart from her husband—I took the question to mean in regard to some secret understanding with reference to marriage and I answered it in that regard, as to marriage it was not a secret understanding—there was no impropriety of conduct between me and Mrs. Bartlett; that is to say, I kissed her, that was an impropriety, I don't defend that, it was both in and out of her husband's presence—whatever my relations with her were, they were known to her husband—I addressed him as Edwin and he spoke of her as Adelaide and of me as George—when I wrote the letter which you have, he had placed implicit trust and confidence in me, and he continued to do so to the very last hour of his life—I say there "I respond from my heart to your wish that our friendship may ripen with the lapse of time;" that was my wish, and down to the last day of his life I endeavoured to reciprocate his friendship and deserve his confidence, and I was solicitous for his welfare—I believe that every day of his illness, his wife and I were both anxious for his welfare, and trying to serve him—down to the time when I was examined on January 11th I believed I could not in any case be allowed to marry until October, 1887; I did not inquire, but I had been told so by someone who I

believe knew—I never mentioned to Mr. Bartlett the question of the time when I could be married, but to Mrs. Bartlett I may have done so—I can't swear that I then mentioned my then impression that I could not be married until October, 1887, I have no recollection of it, I should tell her the truth—the subject of marriage in general had been talked about by Mr. Bartlett—I became early aware that he had peculiar ideas of marriage—my first visit was of a pastoral character—early in our acquaintance he asked me whether I thought the teaching of the Bible was distinctly in favour of having one wife—he suggested that his idea was there might be a wife for companionship and another for service and household duties—I combated that view and told him the general tenour of the Bible was against it.

By the COURT. He explained that he thought the companion should be educated and intelligent and should be his confidante in all matters—he did not mention that they were both to be his bedfellows or refer to that at all.

By MR. CLARKE. I understood him that a man should have two wives in that full and complete sense—it struck me as a very remarkable suggestion, I put it down to oddity—he never asked me as a Christian minister if he should be allowed to live in sexual connection with two wives, he simply asked me whether the Bible admits monogamy—he never suggested it for himself—coming from him it did not strike me as unwholesome sort of talk in the family, he was a man who had some strange ideas—he made no secret of them, and recurred to them once or twice, not frequently—I do not think his wife was present—I knew of no secret from her—what he said about two wives was said tentatively to me half playfully the first time, but I have a recollection of his speaking more seriously about it on some later occasion—all through the time I knew him he has put his hand to his side and complained of some convulsive pain—I think I noticed it at Merton Abbey—when he has taken wine I have seen him put his hand to his side in that way—he did not say what it was that affected him—it has happened when his wife was there; at dinner, for instance, and he would get up from his chair, or leave off taking wine and continue his dinner, and it would pass off apparently—he told me at Dover that he was not the man he was once, and he attributed it to overwork—he used to get up at three a.m. and go to business from Dover, by the tidal train, the boat express, and I have known him come back at 10 o'clock—I spent two or three days there twice, and it was between those two visits that I wrote the letter in which I say "I am looking forward with much pleasure to next week"—I was to visit them again the next week—he was more depressed and low-spirited the last month or two that I knew him, but I did not notice it at Dover—all I recollect him saying at Dover with regard to his health was that he was not the strong man he once was—I can swear to the prisoner saying that he was low-spirited, but not to his saying that he could not live long, that is, in his presence—I cannot say that that was said at Dover, but it was said when I first went to Claverton Street—I said that he was a man of strange ideas in connection with the married state, and the terms on which people should live in married life—I do not know of books which he used to read with regard to that matter—I was on the closest terms of intimacy with him as brother to brother—I do not know that blue-covered book by sight ("Esoteric Anthropology; or, the Mysteries

of Man ")—I never law him reading it, and this is the first I have heard of or seen it—he never mentioned Dr. Nichols' name to me—he referred to marriage between me and Mrs. Bartlett after he was dead—that was about the latter end of October, at Claverton Street—I must explain he did not mention the word death—he has made statements which left me in no doubt that he contemplated Mrs. Bartlett and myself being ultimately married, and to the best of my recollection that statement was made about October—he had been finding fault with Mrs. Bartlett, not angrily, but correcting something, and I said to him "If ever she comes under my care I shall have to teach her differently," or some such words, and he smiled and said something to the effect that he had no doubt I should take good care of her—I have a clear impression of such words pasting between us—that was the first time I can recollect that it was said—I spoke of that as a thing assumed and likely to happen—it was assumed between us, I understood—there had been no previous conversation as to marriage—the conversation was that upon which Mr. Bartlett's letter to me bears—my letter was founded on the conversation at Putney, when Mr. Bartlett said he had made his will and made me executor—this is a delicate matter for me—I said there was no denying the fact that I was growing very attached to Mrs. Bartlett, and I wished to let him know it; that it was disturbing me in my work, and I asked him if it would not be better for me to discontinue my friendship with them, and he said "Why should you?" and said that I had been a benefit to her, that she liked my preaching, and that it had helped her, benefited her—he showed me one of her convent letters which she had written to him from the convent, which was a very devotional letter, and he said he should like me to endeavour to lead her back more closely to that frame of mind or disposition of heart—he said that he had confidence in me, and that he should be pleased if I would continue as friendly as I had been with them—he did not mention the future, except that he looked forward to it, and hoped that we should have some pleasant intercourse—he said as a proof of confidence in me he had selected me, with his legal adviser, to act as executor—I was telling a husband that I had become attached to his wife, and he desired the intimacy should continue—it was not then that he said that if anything happened to him, I and Mrs. Bartlett might come together, that was later, at Claverton Street—nothing more was said in September touching our future relations—I never said Mr. Bartlett used the words "If anything happens to me you two may come together"—the Coroner put it in that way, and I accepted that meaning, and do so now—I cannot remember the exact words—I regret to say I had at that time spoken to Mrs. Bartlett in regard to my feelings for her independently of Mr. Bartlett, and I told him I had—he asked me to write to her before that, when we went to Dover, and I wrote—that is the letter to which he refers in his letter to me—that letter had been read to him he said by his wife—after that I wrote letters to her from time to time—she did not at my request return them to me, that I recollect—I remember her showing me one of my letters—I was anxious to have the poetry back, because it was sentimental—the letters were affectionate, but not sentimental—I knew from Mr. Bartlett that his friends were not kind to her—I believe he told me at Merton that they did not understand her—he was accounting for the quietness of their lives, and gave that as one reason—at a later period he emphasised it—I recollect

Mrs. Bartlett telling me that he expressed a hope that I should be a friend to her when he was gone—it was at Claverton Street, when they first went there, and not in his presence—he said that if I had known her as he had, 11 or 12 years, and knew how affectionately she had nursed him, I should not have doubted her—that was in August; no, it was after my return from Dover—he came to hear me preach at Merton, and brought her with him, and it was after the service: I was troubled with indigestion, and he said that he had suffered from dyspepsia some years before, and she had nursed him during the illness—he did not say where they lived, that I remember, or what doctor attended him—he told me at Merton that his wife had one child, which died; he said nothing about it being the only time that she was pregnant—I knew from him that that was the only child she had; I only remember him mentioning it once, and that was not in her presence—I knew from Mrs. Matthews that Annie Walker attended Mrs. Bartlett in her confinement; that was said after Mr. Bartlett's death—Mrs. Bartlett did not say so to me, but she said that Annie Walker attended her husband in his sickness; I am positive about that—I cannot tell you when Annie Walker's name was first mentioned—before they went to Dover, when we were passing Merton Cemetery, Mrs. Bartlett spoke to me about this one child, but Annie Walker's name was not mentioned in reference to it—I think I may absolutely pledge myself to that, but she was very often spoken of, and Dr. Nichols was so often spoken of that I said I was interested in him—I never remember Dr. Nichols being mentioned before Mr. Bartlett—I do not think I have stated that I had no secret with Mrs. Bartlett unknown to her husband; I had a secret with her about Dr. Nichols—after they went to Claverton Street I did not tell Mr. Bartlett about Dr. Nichols, because Mrs. Bartlett said he might not like my mentioning it to him, because of his internal affection—Dr. Nichols had never seen him, he advised Mrs. Bartlett when Mr. Bartlett was worse, without seeing him—I knew his address, but I considered it would have been impertinent to suggest to Dr. Leach that he should see Dr. Nicholas as to his previous treatment—Mr. Bartlett had told me he had suffered from dysentery; I knew that before he went to Dover, but I did not know of the internal disease then—no name of disease was mentioned, but only something as to which he was sensitive—Mrs. Bartlett put it that he was sensitive on the question of his sickness—I was with him at the very beginning of his illness—I went with him and his wife to the dog show on 9th December, and he was taken ill in the course of that evening; he seemed very much worn out when he returned—throughout his sickness he was very weary, very much depressed, and suffering from sleepnessness and pain, but not before—he varied as to depression—I saw him crying, but only once that I remember—I think that was just before I went home for Christmas, on Monday, the 21st—I saw Dr. Leach in the first week of the illness; I had a conversation with him five or six days after Mr. Bartlett was taken ill—I do not know why Dr. Leach was selected—I cannot remember anything Mr. Bartlett said about being alarmed about himself; he spoke very little, and was very low-spirited—I have the impression that he thought he should not recover—I did not find him worse when I came back on Saturday, the 26th, but he said he was glad I had returned, and he was afraid his wife was breaking down in nursing him—on the next day, Sunday, the 27th, he told me of me having had worms—I went there

about 9, or 9.30 p.m., and thought he was better—it was on the Saturday that he was depressed, but it is difficult to tell you, because he contradicted himself—he asked me on Sunday whether any one could be lower than he was without passing away altogether, but he did not seem cast down in spirits, he seemed to be bearing up well against it, but thinking of himself as one actually on the edge between life and death—I did not see the doctor on Saturday, the 26th, or Sunday, the 27th—I called about 3 o'clock on the Saturday, and was there till about 5 or 6 p.m.—I spent the afternoon there—Mr. Bartlett told me on the Sunday that Dr. Leach had stayed with him several hours on the 26th, and he described to me that on that day his condition was such that he had taken two purgative draughts and a dose of croton oil, and also had been galvanised in the abdomen—he did not say he had taken santonine as well—he said they had all been of no use, and that the doctor had given it up in despair, but was going to try again in a day or two—he had been having frequent injections of morphia for his sleeplessness; he told me that even that had not given him sleep, and he has got up and walked about in he night—that was what he spoke of when he said that his wife was likely to break down under the strain of nursing him—it was quite an accident about Mrs. Bartlett and I going out together on the 27th; I came to the door and found her going out to the post, and I went there with her and then returned to the house—I understood from Mrs. Bartlett that Dr. Nichols was an American, and that was the way America was mentioned to me, but it was rather a jumble—I spoke to Mr. Bartlett about mesmerism at Merton, but I did not believe him to be a believer in it—I do not remember his telling me he did believe in it, he asked me if I did—I don't remember his suggesting to me that he had mesmerised anybody or that I had mesmerised him—I told him a story in connection with mesmerism on this occasion—I believe I introduced the subject—I did not ascertain it was a subject to which he had given attention—I never heard he believed in mesmeric influences—he did not tell me that on the 28th he stood for two hours waving his hand over his sleeping wife; I had never heard that till I heard it in evidence—my income was 100l. a year—Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett knew that, and that I was no, competent enough to bear the expenses of travelling, and Mr. Bartlett offered me the season ticket to Dover, which I declined, and he afterwards gave me one from Putney to Waterloo—I never did at any time during his life say anything to Mrs. Bartlett to suggest to her that I would marry her immediately n his death, if he should die—the understanding was known to him that at some time or other I and she might come together, but no more than that—the chloroform she spoke of to me was for the purpose of soothing her husband—she told me that in previous sicknesses Mr. Bartlett was violent, and she was in some apprehension of that state of things recurring, and it was by way of giving him sleep that she used it—at the time I got the chloroform, not the faintest idea was in my mind that it could be used for any dangerous or improper purpose—I had seen Mrs. Bartlett with Squires, medical book at Claverton Street—I have no knowledge in medical sciences, and I know very little of chloroform; I have never seen it administered, what I know was that chloroform was used for soothing and sleeping purposes, nothing more, and as far as my knowledge went I thought that a few drops on a handkerchief might be safely need—I understood that Mrs. Bartlett did not desire the chloroform to be

specifically mentioned to Mr. Bartlett, but for the affliction for which she wanted—I understood from her the paroxysms arose from that—she never asked me not to mention I had got the chloroform; I think I ought to state in justice to myself, there was a visitor there, and I could not give it to her in his presence—I cannot say if the visitor had not been there that should have given it to her in Mr. Bartlett's presence, I might or might not, she had not asked me to keep it secret—it was on the very day on which I gave her the chloroform that there was this misunderstanding between us; I suggested that she might as well have a nurse, and I knew at that time from what I heard from Mr. Bartlett that for more than a fortnight she had never had a proper night's rest; he had spoken of the probability of her breaking down, and I could see my self from her appearance and manner that she was tired and strained with the work—besides that she had told me about the friends complaining that he was not properly nursed, and taking those two thing, together I suggested that she should obtain a nurse, and she was angry at the suggestion—I also said I did not trust her, or something of that kind, but at that time not the smallest distrust of Mrs. Bartlett was in my mind—every time I had been there during Mr. Bartlett's illness I had seen her giving diligent and affectionate attention to his wants—I cannot remember that he ever suggested that a nurse would have given him better attention and cure; he never suggested one being fetched—when he heard me apologizing to Mrs. Bartlett he said "You can trust her; if you had had 12 years of experience you would have known you can trust her," and the impression that that left on my mind was that he was not only satisfied with her, but praised and desired her to continue that attention which she was giving him—from September when this understanding was set up between us Mr. Bartlett was in the habit of calling me George, and when we three were together I was spoken of as George; I called her Adelaide in his presence—at the time she told me to put away from my mind the fact that she possessed a medicine chest—I was in possession of the bottles which I had bought, and I threw them away as I went to church on the Sunday morning—I did not tell her on the Monday that I had done so, I could not say at this time why, probably because it never occurred to me to tell her—at that time I was in great anxiety and distress about my position, I was afried the effect of my having bought the chloroform might get me into trouble, so I thought I had better get rid of the bottles—I threw them away because it was the horror that seized me when I thought what get me in to trouble, so I thought I had better get rid of the bottles—I threw them away because it was the horror that seized me when I thought what might have happened—when I said I was a ruined man, it was because of the thought of what might happen to myself, I was going to say the though was in my mind at the time, possibly it was the chloroform I had bought had been the cause of Mr. Bartlett's death—it would be difficult to say when that thought first came, I think on Saturday night it grew on me—the piece of poetry was torn up when I got it—I cannot swear whether I got it on the Saturday or the Wednesday; whatever was spoken of this paper was spoken in Mrs. Matthews's presence—Mrs. Bartlett was not the only person who had advised me not to say anything about the chloroform, Mrs. Mathews had—understand me, nothing about the chloroform, not altogether, nothing about it imediately, she recommended me to await the result of the analysis, and I took her advice and did not.

Re-examined. I mentioned to Mr. Matthews on Wednesday, 6th January, that I had bought chloroform for Mrs. Bartlett, when

I was walking with him between his house and Peckham Rye station—I told him briefly the facts of the case and I said that I had my fears and that my idea was to give the facts—my fears were as to what had become of it—what use had been made of it, or rather as to what its effects had been—and it was then that Mr. Matthews advised me to wait; and really to wait my being called by the Coroner and give my evidence in due order—I had previously mentioned the chloroform to Mrs. Matthews on Wednesday as we were waiting in the ante-room at Dr. Leach's, but not to any one else—I had mentioned it to the Wesleyan minister at Poole, before I was called by the Coroner on the 11th, I had been down there, and I had also mentioned it to another minister of my own body; and I mentioned the chloroform to the Coroner on the first opportunity I had—Mr. Bartlett did not describe the particular way in which my preaching had affected Mrs. Bartlett, but thought it had benefited her.

By the COURT. I went to three different shops to get the chloroform, because I could not get as much as I wanted at one shop—I did not say at the first shop "you have given me a little bottle, I want four or five times the quantity," because I thought he would want to know what I wanted it for, and I did not wish to enter into a long explanation because I thought he would not understand that Mrs. Bartlett was skilled in the use of medicines—I said it was for taking grease spots out of cloths, because he asked me what I wanted it for—I knew that chloroform was used by amateurs, I heard of its being used for the gums, toothache for instance, and I understood it would be sold to doctors or at least to people who understood the use of it, for the other purposes for which it was wanted—I thought it was used very quickly in the way Mrs. Bartlett mentioned—I knew it was volatile, I had an idea that a very few applications would exhaust the amount—I thought the whole handkerchief would be well moistened in it—I had never heard how it was done and knew nothing of how it was done—when I took the chloroform to Mrs. Bartlett a Mr. Hackett was visiting there; and I left him there with Mr. Bartlett.

Wednesday, April 14th, 1886.

  JOHN BAWTREE HUMBLE . I am a chemist, of 190, Upper Richmond Road, Putney—I know Mr. Dyson by sight—I had seen him pass my house on several occasions before the 28th December—I recollect his coming to my shop on the 28th about twelve o'clock—he asked for some chloroform—I asked him if he required camphorated chloroform for toothache, and he said no, he wanted pure chloroform—I then took up a two-drachm bottle and asked him if that would be sufficient—he said he wanted more; I next showed him a half-ounce bottle, and he said he would like more than that—I then showed him a one-ounce bottle, and he said that would do—I ultimately gave him a one-ounce bottle of methylated chloroform, which is chloroform obtained from methylated spirits—it was in a white glass bottle—I labelled it—he paid me 1s. 3d. for it—it was rather a large quantity to sell to one person at a time, without a prescription.

  THOMAS SAMUEL PENROSE . I manage the business of Cadman and Company, The Ridgeway, Wimbledon—I am a chemist, and have known Mr. Dyson about eighteen months—he came to my shop on the 28th December, about twelve o'clock—I sold him two bottles of chloroform, of one-ounce each—it was methylated chloroform—he paid me 1s. 6d.—

the bottle was labelled, "Chloroform, Poison," and one of our trade libels was on it, with the address on—he took those bottles away with him.

  JOSEPH RICHARD PHILLIPS BELLEN . I am assistant to my father, Joseph Bellen, a chemist, at 36, High Street, Wimbledon—I have known Mr. Dyson about eighteen months—on the 28th December he came to our shop about mid-day, and purchased some chloroform—about an ounce and a half or two ounces, I am not sure which—it was pure chloroform, and the price was 2s. an ounce—it was in a small blue bottle, with the words on it "Not to be taken" on the glass, and "Poison"; and in addition to that it had a label pasted on it, "Chloroform," and one of our ordinary trade labels with our name and address—I think there was two ounces of chloroform in it, but I cannot remember whether it was full or not—he paid me for it and took it away.

  ALICE JANE SELBY MATTHEWS . I am the wife of Mr. George Frederick Matthews, living at No. 90, Friern Road, East Dulwich—I have known the prisoner for some years, intimately about three and a half years, and altogether something like five years—I knew her late husband also—when I first knew them they were living at Herne Hill, and afterwards at Lordship Lane, East Dulwich—I was in the habit of going to visit them at Lordship Lane—they afterwards went to Morton cottage, and I continued to visit them there—on one occasion my husband and I stayed a week in their house in July, 1885—they were then living together on very affectionate terms, so far as I could see, apparently as man and wife—Mr. Bartlett suffered from neuralgia when he was at the Exchange about three years ago—I do not know how long he suffered; it may have been a day or two, of a longer time; he did not lay up—at other times his health was very good—I did not see them at all in Claverton Street until Mr. Bartlett's death—on the morning of the let of January I got a telegram from Mrs. Bartlett, and I went to their house about 12 o'clock—I went upstairs with Mrs. Bartlett to the room where the body was, and she gave me an account of how the death had taken place—it was in the front room—the told me that the night previously her husband was in bed, and she sat with her arm round his feet; that she was awakened by feeling a cramp in her arm; that she did not get to sleep till after 12 o'clock; it could not have been till after 12 o'clock, because she heard the people downstairs wishing each other a happy new year; that when she was awakened by feeling the cramp in her arm she found Edwin lying on his face, and she turned him over and tried to give him brandy—she did not say whether he swallowed any of the brandy—she then roused the house and sent for the doctor—I asked her what he died from—she replied that she did not know, and that there must be a post-mortem—I do not remember anything else that either of us said about the death at that time—that was about 12 o'clock; I stayed with her all the day—we went out together in the afternoon to get some mourning, and then returned to the house with her and stayed there till about nine o'clock at night—the next day, Saturday, the 2nd of January, Mrs. Bartlett and Mr. Dyson came together to my house at Dulwich, after tea—I had never seen Mr. Dyson before—she introduced him to me on that occasion—I had heard of him before, but I cannot remember who from—in all probability it would have been in connection with the Bartletts, but I cannot say for certain—Mrs. Bartlett told me why they had come

to my house—she said the doctors were not agreed with regard to the cause of death, and that the rooms were to be sealed; and so she had come to me—she remained at my house—I do not remember anything of importance happening the next day, Sunday—Mr. Dyson did not come that day, but he came on Monday, the 4th—Mrs. Bartlett was out at the time of his arrival; it was after lunch—I do not know what o'clock it was—he stayed till she came in, and I left them alone for a few minutes—as I went back to where they were—I heard a noise in the room like someone stamping—I went in and saw Mrs. Bartlett stamping round the room—I asked what was the matter, and she did not answer for some minutes; then she said Mr. Dyson was bothering her about a piece of paper—I went out again for a few minutes, and then returned, and as I was entering the room I heard Mr. Dyson say "You did tell me that Edwin was going to die soon"—she replied "No, I did not"—then Mr. Dyson bowed his head on the piano and said "Oh! my God!"—after a bit I asked him whether he had not better go, and nothing more was said—he then went away, and as he went out said, "I am a ruined man"—I did not ask Mrs. Bartlett what he meant by that; I asked her what the paper was, and she said it was a piece of poetry—on Wednesday, the 6th, Mr. Dyson again came to my house, and he, Mrs. Bartlett and myself, went together to London—Mrs. Bartlett and I were going to London when he came, and he went with us—we left him at Victoria Station, and then went to Dr. Leach's—we found him not at home, and went on to Claverton Street—Mr. Dyson came there in the afternoon—we all three went to Dr. Leach's about three o'clock, and Mrs. Bartlett went in to Dr. Leach alone, into one room, whilst Mr. Dyson and I remained in another room—we were left alone together for over an hour, and during that hour Mr. Dyson and I had a conversation—on the Saturday in that week, the 9th, Mr. Dyson came to my house—Mrs. Bartlett had gone to town, and went to my husband's place of business to bring him home—Mr. Dyson went there also to see my husband, and they all came down together—I cannot say that Mrs. Bartlett told me what she had been seeing Dr. Leach about, but I understood she was to go and see the results of the post-mortem—there was a conversation about chloroform on Saturday, the 9th, at my house, in the evening—Mr. Dyson was in a great state, because he said he would be ruined, and he should have to leave his ministry, and so on—Mrs. Bartlett and my husband were there—I cannot remember all that was said—I know Mr. Dyson said "Supposing it should be proved"—and he hesitated and did not finish, and Mrs. Bartlett said "Do not mince matters; say I gave him chloroform, if you want to"—she said it very indignantly—Mr. Dyson made out that he would be ruined because of his position in the ministry—he said "Supposing it is proved that I bought"—or "Supposing it is proved that you gave him the chloroform and I bought it, or something like those words—on the Saturday or Monday I questioned Mrs. Bartlett with reference to what Mr. Dyson had told me whilst I had been waiting with him alone in Dr. Leach's surgery, and I asked her why she had told him all those lies—I did not tell her what Mr. Dyson had said to me, but I knew that she knew what he had told me—she replied that he had bothered her so, that he would not believe her when she told him the truth—she told me on one occasion that she had had chloroform to soothe Edwin, but that she had never used it—I cannot say she told me

where she got it from, but of course I understood—she told me that, on the Saturday or Monday, after we were at Dr. Leach's—she said she had thrown it away, that she had poured the chloroform on the rails as she came from Victoria to Peckham Rye on the 6th and had thrown the bottle away into Peckham Rye pond—we had passed Peckham Rye pond on the 6th; it was then frozen—I do not know whether it was frozen hard; there were some boys on it at one end—I do not know whether it was frozen all over or not—Mrs. Bartlett left my house on the 11th—she came to see me again soon afterwards, two or three times before the 20th—when she left me she went to Weymouth Street, Portland Place, to lodgings—I do not remember that she said anything particular to me about this matter between the 11th and the 20th—on the 20th she said she had asked Dr. Leach about giving Edwin chloroform, and that he had told her she could not possibly have given him chloroform, because it would have shown in his brain if she had given it to him by inhalation, and that if she had given it to him to drink it would have burnt his throat all down, and that his screams would have alarmed the house.

  GEORGE FREDERICK MATTHEWS . I am the husband of the last witness, I have known Mrs. Bartlett about three and a half years—I visited them at Merton Abbey and stayed some time with them—Mr. Bartlett's general health was very good, so far as I know—I noticed nothing peculiar about his ideas—so far as I could judge he and his wife lived as man and wife—I saw him once during his last illness, on December 15, when he seemed very prostrated—Mrs. Bartlett told me he was suffering from slight mercurial poisoning and also from verdigris and he might possibly have got it from moving things in the warehouse as he had been hunting rate—that was the last time I saw him alive—I went to Claverton Street on January 1—I saw Mrs. Bartlett and had tea there—after tea she said that Dr. Leach said that he could not grant a certificate, and later in the evening it was said that she and Dr. Leach had come to an understanding early in the morning that there must be a post-mortem—on January 2nd she came to my house in the evening with Mr. Dyson, when my wife was there—she told me that she must have fallen asleep sitting near the foot of the bed, she had his foot under her arm, and was awakened by feeling a cramp in her arm, and found her husband lying on his face and turned him over and endeavoured to give him some brandy, and becoming alarmed she proceeded to raise the house and also sent for a doctor—she stayed at my house that night, and on Sunday, January 3rd, I asked her if it was possible that he might have got at any poison—she said she did not think he could have done so, and she did not think there were any poisons in the house—I believe she said that the doctor had told her there was a smell of chlorodyne at the post-mortem which might be accounted for by her husband having used chlorodyne—I was also told that there was a smell of garlic, and I asked her if it was possible he could have got at any arsenic—she said "No;" we had a visitor, and of course there was not much said—I saw Mr. Dyson on February 6, when I was coming home from business—I walked with him to the station and had a long conversation with him on this subject, but Mrs. Bartlett was not present—on January 7, the first day of the inquest. Mr. Dyson and Mrs. Bartlett came to my house in the evening—Mr. Dyson only stayed a few minutes, but Mrs. Bartlett

discussed the evidence which had been given—on Saturday, 9th January, Mr. Dyson came to my place of business about 11 o'clock first—I was too busy to see him, and he returned later, when I was about to leave, at two o'clock—he and Mrs. Bartlett went with me to my house that afternoon at my request—he told me in her hearing that he was ruined, so far as his prospects in the ministry were concerned—I endeavoured to combat the idea, and he explained that it was impossible for him to do otherwise than resign—that according to a system that existed with them certain superintendents of every district were responsible for the conduct of the ministers in each district, and that the slightest breath of anything against the minister would cause him to be called before what I understood to be a sort of council—he said, turning to Mrs. Bartlett, "Suppose it turns out, or suppose it should be proved to you," and then he hesitated, and she said, "Do not mince matters; say it, if you wish to say, I pave him chloroform;" he said "Well, to put it hypothetically, supposing it was discovered that you gave him chloroform and I gave it to you?" and then I cannot say his words exactly, but he made an action, as much as to say "What would be the opinion of the world? how should I come out in such a case?" and he moved his hands, so—I cannot remember that she said anything to that—he went almost immediately after that—she left my house on January 11—I saw her on January 20 at my house with my wife—she told me that Dr. Leach had said that it would be impossible for her to have given him chloroform by inhalation without it showing in the brain, and she could not have given it him as a drink because it would have burnt his throat all down and he would have roused the house with his cries.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I have been a friend of Mr. Bartlett's some years, and was in perfect confidence and intimacy with him—he never talked to me about medical matters, nor did he communicate to me his strange ideas on the subject of marriage—he never lent or showed me any books, but Mrs. Bartlett lent me Dr. Nichols's book once—it was a queer sort of book, scarcely in my line of business, and I did not read it—this is it—that was quite two years ago—Mr. Bartlett never talked to me about magnetism or mesmerism—I nave also seen "Squire's Companion" at their house at Merton Abbey.

Re-examined. She lent me this book two years ago at my house—she was a believer in the hydropathic system, and I do not know but I rather think the book was about that, and she gave it to me so that I should read something on the subject; I am not certain, because I never read the book; I know we used to have conversations on hydropathy—it was left with me, but I did not read it at all—I believe my wife returned it to her. (MR. CLARKE here read the title of the book.) If I read as far as that I should not have read any farther—now you mention Dr. Nichols, that was the reason she gave it to me, she was speaking of Dr. Nichols—I know nothing of Dr. Nichols—I never saw Mr. Bartlett with that book.

  ANNIE WALKER . I am a midwife and a trained nurse—in October, 1881, I was attached to the London Association of Nurses, 62, New Bond Street, and received a letter there from Mrs. Nichols, the wife of Dr. Nichols, of Fopstone Road, Earl's Court, making an appointment—she is dead, but Dr. Nichols is, I believe, a witness here—I saw her, and in consequence of what she said I went to Station Road, Herne Hill,. saw

Mrs. Bartlett, and arranged to attend her in her approaching confinement, which occurred in November, 1881, but I was in the house attending her for four weeks before that—I attended her without a doctor—I am not certain whether I took the order from her, but I went to her husband and asked him to let me have some medicine—he asked me if her life would be all right—I said that I did not fear for her life, but I feared if she did not have help at once the child would be stillborn—he said that he would much rather I took the case through, he would much rather not have any man interfering with her, and I agreed to go on—I am not certain whether that was the day before her confinement or on the day on which she was confined at midnight—she had a very bad time, she suffered great pain—I asked Mr. Bartlett to send for a doctor to be there when the child was born, and begged him, and it was drawing pretty near at that time—I sent for a doctor at last, but the child was born before he arrived; it was stillborn—I continued to attend her for three weeks, and saw her four times after that, when she told me that she never meant to have any more children, but she did not say why—when I visited her after her confinement I saw Mr. Bartlett, and as far as I could judge they were living together as man and wife, and were on very affectionate terms—I visited them at Lordship Lane, and also at Merton Abbey—I stayed a few days with them at Merton Abbey in September, 1884, and sang on Sunday, 2nd October—she played and sang in the evening, and she said that Mr. Bartlett never appreciated enough what she did, that he did not appreciate her work; she worked very beautifully, and she said that he always thought she ought to do it better—I cannot say whether it was on that occasion, but she said, I think in his presence, "Don't you think it is a shame that Edwin has made a will that the property will come to me provided I never marry again?"—I feel sure she mentioned that more than once, but I cannot really be positive about it—all I know of Dr. Nichols is seeing his back once as he passed from one door to another in his own house; he has never seen me—I never saw him about Mr. Bartlett at all; I never had any conversation with him—I knew he was the husband of Mrs. Nichols who had written to me, and that he was the gentleman who had written this book, "The Mysteries of Man"—I never saw any one reading it, but it was lying about at the Bartletts'—I know that it was read because it was through reading it, I understood from Mrs. Bartlett, that she wrote to Mrs. Nichols—I saw no other medical book at the house, and no medicine chest—I never had any conversation with Mrs. Bartlett about chloroform; she never asked me to purchase any for her, and I never did so, nor any medicine of any kind—I have never been to America or out of England; I never spoke of going to America—I never knew anything of Mr. Dyson—I never attended Mr. Bartlett.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. No chloroform was used at Mrs. Bartlett's confinement—I have never heard chloroform mentioned when I have been there, and so far as I know she knew nothing about it—I do not know whether Mrs. Nichols attended people; she visited a lady who I attended, but they were great friends—I have read in the book that she attended people, but I don't know much about the book, I have just looked at it a little—I only know Dr. Nichols as Mrs. Nichols' husband, and the author of the book—I have looked through it; there is nothing immoral or indecent in it—I saw it there when Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett were about,

there was no concealment of it at all, it was lying about—I had seen two patients before at Mrs. Nichols' recommendation, but none since—I lived in the house six weeks before the confinement, and took my meals with Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett; she was most affectionate towards her husband, and although she expected her confinement to happen earlier than it did, she would get up very early to see that he had his breakfast at seven comfortably before he started—I gave her my photograph in my nurse's dress—her confinement was a time of great suffering, and she said that she would never have another child; I was seven weeks in the house altogether—I was very anxious about her, but did not see any reason to fear for her life; she was keeping up very well, but even after what Mr. Bartlett said, I again insisted on having a medical man—I have nursed a great many ladies; I have been 14 years a nurse—it is not an uncommon thing at all for a woman to say that she hopes never to have another child.

Re-examined. When she said that, she said nothing as to the terms on which she was living with her husband—they occupied the same bed when I was with them, and I have been into their room when I paid my visits—there was nothing exceptional between them as man and wife as far as I know—she never made any statement to me as to the terms on which they cohabited.

By the COURT. Parts of this book tell married people how to live together without having children.

  THOMAS LONG NICHOLAS . I live at 32, Fopstone Road, Earl's Court—I have no degree enabling me to practice here—I was a graduate at New York in 1850—I have been in England about 25 years, mostly in London—besides myself there is no other Dr. Nichols in Fopstone Road, or in Earl's Court, that I know of—I published the work entitled "Esoteric Anthropology"—I first saw the prisoner at Westminster Police-court—I cannot remember having any conversation with her by letter or otherwise—I do not know any one of the name of Bartlett in this country—I do not know a nurse or midwife of the name of Annie Walker; I saw her here this morning, never, before to my knowledge—I never stated to any one that a person of the name of Bartlett would die within 12 months—I could not make any such statement unless I had examined the patient.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I am not registered here, my diploma was just too late to be registered—I used to live at Malvern; it was there I issued the English edition of this book; it was written about 1853, in America—I believe it has been very largely circulated all over the world—my late wife published a book called "A Woman's Work in Water Cure and Sanitary Education," that was the English reproduction of the previous work entitled "Experience in Water Cure," published in America—in 1853 I was giving lectures near New York at the American Hydropathic Institute—I was then teaching students in anatomy physiology, and hydro-therapeutics, and was assisted by Mrs. Nichols in teaching, and writing books—she wrote her own books, and did her part of the teaching for both sexes—my book called "Human Physiology the Basis of Sanitary and Social Science "was written later, at Malvern; the preface represents my intention in writing it, and the character of the book-patients in England mostly came to Mrs. Nichols—it was a large practice, involving hundred of cases—she had more practice here

than I—I did not know Miss Walker at all—she may have visited at my house, and might have seen me without my noticing her—Mrs. Nichols' practice would, in the ordinary course of things, be communicated to Miss Walker, without regard to mine; she had her own ladies who usually came to see her in a different apartment—they might come and consult her without my knowing their names or anything of the kind—sometimes persons who read my books would come to me for advice; I did not lay myself out for practice, nor wish it—I was engaged in literary work—my intention was "Not to get consultations, but, to prevent that necessity, to enable them to get health without any further care"—I wished to make my book as perfect as I could; but from time to time persons did come to me for advice, which was given, sometimes it might be on matters requiring very private consideration—I very seldom visited patients; I nave sometimes been prevailed up to see a patient, but I never held myself out as a practitioner; I always gave persons to understand what my position was; if they wanted me to see a child or a patient that I thought I could be useful to, I often would go, but that was very rare—I had some practice in America—I never kept a record of those who visited me in England—I never kept any records at all—Mrs. Nichols died in May, 1884.

Re-examined. My wife usually attended the ladies who called—she may have seen gentlemen who may have wished to speak to her, I can't say positively with regard to that—she very seldom visited any patient; if they were not able to come to her and she drove out, she might sometimes call.

  THOMAS A. ROBERTS . I am a dental surgeon at 49, Charles Street, Pimlico—I was called to see Mr. Bartlett on 16th December; I went to 85, Claverton Street—I first saw Mrs. Bartlett on the landing outside the door—I asked her if her husband was in the habit of taking mercury in any form—I think she said "I don't know"—I saw the deceased and examined his mouth—I should say he was suffering from mercurial poisoning—his teeth were loose—I extracted the two upper central roots that day—I went and saw him again on the 17th with Dr. Leach, and I extracted about 11 more roots—I visited him again on the 21st, and extracted four lower incisors—I used a solution of cocaine on the gums—that is a new drug lately used; I can't say whether it is a mineral or vegetable drug—I painted his gums with it before the operation, to produce local anaesthesia, to dull the sense of pain, to make the operation more easy—I saw him again on the 26th—I should say the signs of mercurial poisoning were then lessened—I saw him again on the 81st December, he and Dr. Leach came to my house, and I extracted a tooth then, that was between 5 and 6 o'clock—Dr. Leach administered nitrous oxide gas; he was under its influence about half a minute, I should think—that was the last time I saw him—I should say his condition was much better—I noticed the condition of the gum in the region of the lower incisors; the gum had separated and raised from the central ridge of the alveolus—that is the process of boning in which the teeth are inserted—I said to Dr. Leach "I think this looks very much like necrosis setting in"—necrosis is death of the bone—it had extended between the two lower caries about an inch and a quarter, it had gone into the whole of the socket of each of the four teeth that I had extracted

before—the disease of the bone was not at all extensive, I should say it was only commencing.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. On the last day he inhaled more of the nitrous oxide gas than patients would ordinarily do—we only applied it once, it took three or four minutes I should think before it went off—I did not take the time—as a rule two minutes is quite sufficient—I noticed a fungoid growth round the necks of the teeth—there were very few teeth remaining, there were only two stumps and teeth on each side—each stump did not represent a tooth; the upper molars have three Stumps, the lower molars have two—I extracted 11 teeth and stumps on my second visit, but I cannot say how many teeth or how many stumps—there were more than two left on each side, I can't say exactly how many; I know one was left on the lower left side, and one canine on the lower right—I can't say how many were left in the upper jaw—I believe the lower teeth at the back of the jaw had all gone—I did not notice his breath at the last visit, it was extremely foul at the first and second—I noticed the fungoid growth at each visit; it was not found in the hollow spots where the teeth had previously been, it was around the necks of the teeth that still remained, on the margin of the gum, it was principally tartar I should say—it was before the last operation was performed that I said to Dr. Leach that I thought necrosis was setting in—that was said in Mr. Bartlett's presence—necrosis goes on, that is the dead part of the bone separates entirely from the healthy part, and then you can take it away; now much of the structure of the bone may be involved in that, depends on the condition of the person, the circumstances of his life, and so on; it might go on in a way which might practically cause the destruction of the jawbone, which would be a very terrible thing to contemplate.

Re-examined. I do not say that the decayed part had separated from the healthy part, it would, if allowed to go on; there is a process by paring or removing the decayed part so as might prevent the spread of the necrosis, I can't say for certain—I did not consider this a case involving any serious consequences at that time, not as to the necrosed portion of the bone—its process is to spread, leaving the rest of the gum healthy—I did not find it necessary to suggest any treatment, or to do anything in relation to it, except that I recommended the mouth to be rinsed out with Condy's fluid—I thought that was the best thing to be done—I did not attach any serious importance to this fungoid growth.

The deposition of Dr. Green was here read as follows:—"Thomas Henry Green (Sworn). I am a physician at Charing Cross Hospital—I was present at a post-mortem on the deceased, Bartlett, on the 2nd January, and the post-mortem was made under my directions—I made no notes, I dictated the notes—I did not read over the notes at the time; I have read them since—I believe the notes contain what I dictated—I noticed the oesophagus (I cannot speak positively to the condition unless I am allowed to refer to my notes)—as far as I can remember the lower part of the oesophagus was denuded of the epithelium; it had come off in little patches here and there—the stomach was removed—it was tied before removed at both ends—the contents of the stomach were put into a large glass vessel—this vessel had no stopper to it, therefore a smaller glass stoppered bottle was procured from the chemist, and the contents were transferred from the larger vessel to the smaller—I should think about half an hour elapsed before the transfer to the smaller vessel—the

contents of the stomach smelt very much like chloroform—I compared it to a mixture of chloroform and garlic—I examined the cardiac end of the stomach and the mucous membrane—I examined them by my eyes, by means of a lens, and by my finger—the mucous membrane at the cardiac end of the stomach was covered with thick tenacious mucus (I am speaking from memory)—I believe it was unnaturally red, I am not sure, a dusky red I think—the capillaries were filled with blood; there was considerable injection of the mucous membrane at this part of the stomach—in the posterior dependent aspect of the stomach there was a distinct loss of substance, I should think over a space about the size of a shilling—I examined the intestines; I do not remember if the contents were run into any receiver—the smell of the contents of the intestines was similar to the stomach, much less intense—I examined the heart; I noticed the tissue, it was perhaps a little softer than I expected it to be so shortly after death—if I remember rightly, I said that the tissue is a little softer than natural, perhaps post-mortem—it was very slight—I noticed the cavities and large vessels of the heart were much too deeply stained—the blood itself was fluid; that was not a normal condition considering the time that had elapsed from death to the post-mortem examination—I was not present when the result was announced to the family, I was obliged to leave—I concluded that death was most likely due to the contents of the stomach—I suggested before I left that it would be wise to have the contents of the stomach sealed, and that the Coroner should be communicated with." Cross-examined by MR. BEAL. My depositions taken before the Coroner I looked through hurriedly, and I signed—they were offered to be read to me by the Coroner, but he did not read them—I read the notes of the post-mortem rapidly about two hours ago I think, I have not seen them since they were dictated—I cut open deceased's stomach myself—the inflammation at the cardiac end was obviously recent—it was obviously a recent change—I don't think acute inflammation could have lasted sufficient time in this case not to be characterised as recent—when I arrived there were two large jars which I carefully examined and smelt, they were glass and quite clean—I don't remember any more—a third small stoppered bottle was sent for from the chemist—I examined it, it appeared to be perfectly new—I don't know that I exactly saw the sealing of the jars, I was engaged in something else—I cannot say I saw them labelled—the small cap was removed—the dura mater did adhere to the skull cap rather more than it ought to do—the brain was carefully examined throughout, cut up, sliced in every possible direction—I don't remember the meninges were thickened—the ventricles of the brain I did not notice anything abnormal about, I did not notice any odour about the ventricles—we examined the brain most carefully, and as far as I remember there was nothing abnormal about it—the brain was examined after the stomach—it was examined last—I examined the larynx and cut it all the way down—I believe there was nothing abnormal about it—I examined the trachea—I believe there was nothing abnormal about that—the kidneys I examined, they were quite natural—I examined the spleen, that was quite natural, and the liver, that was natural—I have no recollection of examining the bladder, I should think I did so, but I don't remember—there was nothing particular about the lungs, a little congestion belined, I fancy a post-mortem change; for all practical purposes

they were healthy; I only looked at the skin with my eye—I didn't notice ulcers about the leg—we noticed he was a healthy looking woman—I noticed no ulceration anywhere except in the stomach—the pyloric end of the stomach was inflamed—I believe the small intestines were perfectly healthy throughout—we cut them up and carefully looked at them—we weighed some of the organs—we had no scales and I saw no special reasons for doing so—I cannot remember the size and shape of the loss of substance in the dependent part of the stomach, it was about the size of a shilling, very shallow—the edges were certainly not clean cut—the loss of substance did not extend to the muscular coat—there was very marked congestion for some distance round the ulcer—all the appearances in the deceased corpse were consistent with natural disease except the appearances of the stomach—some of the appearances in the stomach I might attribute to natural disease—all the appearances of the stomach except that of the ulcer and the mucous membrane in its immediate vicinity—I do not consider those appearances due to chloroform but to some irritant, I could not say from chloroform—I inferred it from the smell—the whole of the stomach was slightly inflamed—I examined the mouth, I think we found nothing but the condition of the jaw; there was some slight necrosis—nothing in the mucous membrane of the mouth—I did not notice the teeth particularly, a good many were lost—I didn't observe an abscess—I noticed the pharynx was quite natural and the upper part of the oesophagus—he was a strong, wellnourished, healthy-looking man, powerful, well developed I should say—as far as I should observe a man capable of considerable exertion.

By MR. LICKFOLD. I cannot complain of my practice—I should imagine necrosis of the jaw is not a pleasant ailment—I expect to find it occur in a healthy person—I should not call a person suffering from necrosis in a healthy condition—I don't remember I heard Mr. Leach describe him as suffering from alarming symptoms of necrosis—poisoning by liquid chloroform is, I believe, of very rare occurrence—I have never in the course of my practice had a case of poisoning by liquid chloroform—I have never seen a case in which I suspected death to have resulted from chloroform—I don't know what chloroform is considered—I believe it may destroy life very quickly in a liquid state; I don't know, I believe so now—I have not come to that conclusion—if I had been asked I should have said it might destroy life quickly—I don't know that persons have taken four ounces and recovered—Taylor is a great authority—if I have referred to his book it must have been when a student—I have no personal knowledge whatever of poisoning by liquid chloroform, nor of the symptoms it produces—ulceration of the stomach does not commonly follow on gastritis; gastritis is ulceration of the stomach—ulceration is one of the manifestations of gastritis—ulceration of the stomach will sometimes cause perforation, and perforation sudden death—what I meant was that signs of acute inflammation might pass off—signs of acute inflammation of the stomach might pass off completely or leave only signs which could not be distinguished from a chronic process—it could not pass off after death—I quite agree with passage, Taylor on Poisons, 2nd edition, page 163, read to me—I don't know anything about the theory that chloral hydrate may be turned into chloroform by the action of the blood alkali—chloral hydrate would not have the slightest smell of chloroform—if in the stomach, I don't know—I don't remember having

heard the medical men say anything about the brain before what I have said to-day—I don't remember I said anything before the Coroner about it—I have a very clear recollection of what I conceive to be the allimportant facts of the case; of course I mean as to post-mortem appearances—the notion that there was chloroform in the system did impress me—I should not to my knowledge have expected to find something wrong in the brain in a case of poisoning by liquid chloroform—I believe the blood in chloroform poisoning is more or less altered, and does not coagulate properly, and stains the tissues, but I have no knowledge—I don't think I have spoken to Mr. Leach since the post-mortem—oh, yes, I did, when he asked me to come to the Coroner's inquiry—we certainly had no medical discussion. Re-examined. I first got a notion of chloroform as soon as we opened the stomach, after the thorax had been examined—before smelling the stomach no person had suggested to me there was chloroform—the notion came to me immediately I opened the stomach—there was no perforation of the stomach; in this case the ulceration was only superficial—the ulceration and the appearances surrounding the ulcerated parts were in my opinion due to the recent action of an irritant poison—chloroform is a very volatile liquid; it acts as a local irritant—it is used externally as a local irritant—I should not like to express any opinion as to whether any of the signs of inflammation of the stomach might have been due to an inflammation of the mucous membrane antecedent in causation to that caused by an irritant—what I mean to say is, that the signs of inflammation at the cardiac end of the stomach were to my mind so characteristic of the action of a local irritant that the slighter degrees of inflammation in other parts of the stomach might have been or not due to the irritant—I cannot distinguish, in the pyloric part, between inflammation due to the irritant and any irritation due to any preceding gastric disturbance—the inflammation was recent, certainly—the inflammation at the cardiac end was certainly recent. By MR. LICKFOLD. Chlorodyne would not have nearly so pungent a smell as I smelt in the stomach—it has a slight smell of chloroform, I believe; but what I smelt was almost as strong as a freshly-opened bottle of chloroform. The Witness further says: I desire to say that all I have said has been from my memory, and without reference to notes. Signed, HENRY GREEN.

  ALFRED LEACH . I am a Licentiate of the Royal College of Surgeons and of the Society of Apothecaries, and a Licentiate in Midwifery, and practise at 41, Charlwood Street, Pimlico—that is less than a quarter of a mile from Claverton Street—on 10th December last I was called in to attend the deceased; the prisoner called on me; I had not known them before—I was called in the morning between 9 and 10; I arrived at 85, Claverton Street, about 11—the deceased was sitting on the sofa in the drawing room in his dressing gown—I found he was suffering from diarrhoea, some pain in the left side, foetid breath, and from signs of indigestion, sub-acute gastritis one might call it, but of course it was masked by mercurialism—I will call it mercurialism or gastritis, they are convertible terms—it was the effects of a dose of mercury or of an ordinary dose of mercury by a person with an idiosyncrasy for that drug—he had taken too much blue pill or something containing mercury—it

does not mean that he had taken mercury chronically; it means that for him he had taken too large a dose of mercury, to my mind—I cannot tell you what I prescribed for him, the character of the treatment was a curative one, it included chlorate of potash and bismuth—there are many treatments for such diseases—I have not got a copy of my prescriptions, I gave them to the Treasury, I think—the first prescription is bismuth, ammonia, and tincture of nux vomica; that may be correctly described as a stomach mixture, I can describe it in no other way—I see there is bismuth for the stomach, and nux vomica, and also sicona as a tonic—on the same day I also prescribed a lotion as a mouth wash; that was with reference to the state of the jaw; it was chlorate of potash, and lemon syrup to flavour it—I attended on the next day, the 11th, and directed that the bismuth should be suspended by a dilution of bicarbonate of soda and a mild sedative of bromide of ammonia, and also nux vomica and flavouring matter, and a compound tincture of chloroform at the end—that would contain two drops of pure chloroform; 40 minims of compound tincture would be two drops—that entire prescription would be described as a stomach and sedative prescription—I also gave him an opium pill, to procure sleep at night—on the 14th I repeated the mouth wash of chlorate of potash—I prescribed a tonic of gentian and nux vomica on the 15th—on the 18th I gave him a fairly strong purgative of Epsom salts (which was not taken), and a second prescription of bromide and bismuth, with half a drachm of chloral hydrate to two ounces of the mixture, about 15 grains a dose, to be taken at bedtime, a small quantity—on the 19th that was repeated, with morphia in it, and it was acid instead of alkaline, as his condition had improved—on the 20th the chloral hydrate was increased to 20 grains, the morphia and bromide and the rest of the prescription remaining unaltered—on the 22nd there was another mouth wash—on the 24th there was a mixture having no therapeutic action, a placebo, as he would not sleep, and I had tried fairly strong narcotics—I gave him this prescription for the imagination, telling him he was bound to sleep after taking it—on the 25th I prescribed a tonic, calculated to act as a slight stimulant to the digestive organs and to the nerves; it contained phosphate of strychnine—on the 26th began the vermifuges, the worm medicines, consisting of santonine made up with a little confection of senna, to be followed by a draught of sulphate of soda and Liebig's Extract—then on that day there was a strong purgative, which failed to act, and then at my suggestion he swallowed the draught I had prescribed for him on the 18th—he likewise had administered to him by himself for aperient purposes two small globules containing croton oil, each a fairly good dose—they were ineffectual, and I was afraid to give him any more—on the 28th the mouth wash was repeated, and an emulsified preparation of iodiform with bismuth, for the fungoid state of his jaw, was given him; that was a wash—this treatment was addressed to the soothing of the stomach, a sedative and aperient, an innocent and ordinary treatment, I hope—I found that treatment successful, and his health improved—some days after I was called in I sent Mr. Roberts, dental surgeon, to him—he only had nitrous oxide on 31st December, on previous occasions cocaine was relied on—the last prescription I gave him was that of the 28th—he was taking that of the 25th up to the time he died; I did not think it necessary to order anything but a repetition of that of the 25th—I last saw him alive about

6 o'clock on 31st December, in front of Mr. Roberta's door, 49, Charlwood Street, he had just had a tooth out—previous to having the tooth out he seemed, I think I may say, better than I had ever seen him; I cannot say his spirits were better, but they were not bad—I chiefly formed the impression that he was better because he acknowledged it, a thing he was very loth to do; he said he felt he was better—his spirits were good, but on the 25th, the day before the worms, I had seen him in exceptionally good spirits—I had frequently threatened to discontinue my attendance, and on the 30th I carried my threats into execution because the man had made up his mind to have continued medical attendance, and I was not inclined to continue—if the patient had needed it I would have attended to any amount—I did not think he continued to need it daily; to have seen him twice a week would have been enough—on the morning of 1st January, about four, Mr. Doggett's housemaid came for me—I went about half an hour later—I talked some time with the messenger to ask whether it was merely one of his notions or whether he was really ill—I asked what restoratives I could bring if he was really bad—she could only say "I know nothing about it; Mrs. Bartlett only told me he was dead"—I got alarmed, and we jumped into a Hansom's and went—when I went into the room I found Mr. Bartlett was dead—that was about 4.30 a.m.—I have here a few notes written at the moment—when I got there at 4.30 Mrs. Bartlett and Mr. Doggett were in the drawing room—I am not certain if Mrs. Doggett was there—the deceased was lying in his usual place on a camp-bedstead where I had always seen him, near the window—I made a formal examination of the body to see whether he was dead, but I saw he was directly I entered the door—I made a complete examination a few minutes later—he had on a night dress and an undervest—he was lying on his back with his arms across the abdomen, the legs a little bent, the fingers naturally closed, the surface very pallid and very cold, the eyelids nearly closed, the pupils for him very much dilated, natural for death, the mouth partly open, the tongue very white—I estimated the temperature of the body and roughly that of the room; and I tried, as accurately as I could, to estimate how long he had been dead, and I calculated he had been dead from two to three hours—after thinking it over a day or two I thought it possible he might have been dead longer, but I think now, after very careful consideration, three hours is as nearly accurate as I can give—at the time I expressed to Mr. Doggett the conclusion I had come to as to the length of time he had been dead, I am not sure if the prisoner was there—I found the chest smelt of brandy, I think it was moist, I am not sure of that—the mouth had no odour whatever, I smelt that first—the brandy was on the skin of the chest itself I am sure—I am not sure whether there was any moisture on the vest or night dress—the smell of brandy was slight; that was the only smell on the body—in the room there was that naturally close odour of a sleeping room, the odour of supper and condiments and brandy and gas—the face was pale with a natural expression; the fingers of the hands and the legs were slightly flexed—there was no appearance of any convulsive action or paroxsyms, I looked for that and saw nothing of the kind; and I looked for froth on the lips but saw none—the eyelids were nearly closed, and as the pupils were turned somewhat upwards I could not examine the pupils without drawing up the lids—I lifted the eyelids of both eyes

in order to see the pupils at all—the pupils were in the direction of the wall behind him; if he had been standing up the line of vision would have been distinctly above the horizontal—I can form no opinion as to whether his eyelids were in the state in which he died, or whether anything had been done to them—you can close them at any time before cadaveric rigidity sets in; that may happen at from a few minutes to six or eight hours, the time depending on the cause of death, the state of the body before death, and surrounding circumstances to some small extent; very slightly on the temperature of the room—I believe there is a difference in bodies immersed in water—I only speak from my reading on the subject—there was no table near the bed, the table was in the middle of the room away from the bed—the head of the bed was towards the wall on which the mantelpiece was—the fireplace projected from a part of the wall which projected also, leaving a kind of shallow alcove, and the head of the bed was in that alcove as near the mantelpiece as the alcove would allow it to be—the bed in this model is made too narrow in proportion—on the mantelpiece I observed a looking glass, a clock, some vases and a small bottle of chlorodyne, that was all—the bottle of chlorodyne was either on the mantelpiece or on a small stand on the other side of the room away from the bed—it was about an ounce bottle, about half the size of the blue chloroform bottle—on the table there was the remains of supper and some brandy, and a bottle containing some white stuff, carbonate of soda I think, nothing else of importance—there was some brandy in the bottle, I don't know how much—I feel sure I examined it, I am satisfied it contained brandy—I uncorked and smelt it, it was partly full—there was also a wineglass with some brandy in it on the table, I smelt it carefully—I don't remember if there was a "Whatnot" at the end of the room facing the mantelpiece—I looked round the room for anything of importance that would throw light on the subject, I should call bottles things of importance—I remember nothing else than what I have stated—there was a lock-up place in the room next to the fire-place, I examined that with Mr. Doggett; if it was locked the key Was there, there was nothing locked from us, we had not to ask for the key, there were no bottles in it, nothing but what was of an ordinary nature—I smelt all the glasses in the room; brandy and the smell of supper and so forth were all the things noticeable by me—the bedroom opens off the drawing-room by folding doors, I don't think I entered it—I saw a tumbler of Condy's fluid either on the corner of the mantelpiece or on the floor just below it, another bottle was standing in it—the bottle of chlorodyne was labelled chlorodyne, there was very little in it—I searched carefully to see if there was anything suspicious in the room, for there had been nothing in the previous conduct of the deceased, or in my observations of him, to suggest to me the probability of death from natural causes—I asked Mrs. Bartlett to give me any explanation or any assistance in elucidating the mystery—she said she was unable to—we then discussed several things, and then I spoke to her in a low voice that Mr. Doggett might take the hint to leave the room, and when he was gone I thought perhaps some matters of delicacy, which she did not like to mention before him, might come out, but she was unable to give me any explanation, and then it was, I think, we discussed the subject of chlorodyne—while Mr. Doggett was there I said "I cannot give a certificate, there must

be a post-mortem"—Mrs. Bartlett replied, I think, "Must there be an inquest?"—I said "There must be a post-mortem"—a little later on I said "Really, this is a case that I ought to report to the Coroner, but I have no suspicion of foul play; I will have a post-mortem made and then, if the pathological cause of death is found, a certificate will be given in due course; I will not make the post-mortem myself, I will have a pathologist"—Mrs. Bartlett said "What is he dead of?"—I replied "I do not know, I find no cause of death, it is possibly due to the rupture of some small vessel, some aneurism, something that may have been possibly overlooked in my examination, I can hardly think that the death was from syncope"—the post-mortem examination would tell whether death had been from aneurism or the rupture of a blood vessel, that is why I said a pathologist and not a medical jurist—I suggested Dr. Green, who did assist at the post-mortem; he is a noted pathologist and a man of eminence in his profession, he is physician of the Charing Cross Hospital and at Brompton—when I was attending the deceased, Dr. Dalby attended him on the 19th or 20th—on the occasion of one of my visits after talking with the patient and saying he was doing well and so and so, some conversation ensued which I think was a reference to his business, about his partner wanting him back, and Mrs. Bartlett broke in with something flattering to myself and then said "Mr. Bartlett is very contented with his treatment, but his friends have on more than one occasion requested him to let them send him a physician of their own choosing," she added "Mr. Bartlett's friends are no friends to me"—Mr. Bartlett then said "We intend in future, Doctor, to manage our own affairs and not to be interfered with by my friends and relations, I am sorry to say they are not kind to my wife"—I said "By all means have a consultation, as many as you like"—he said "No, I will not have a consultation in the ordinary sense of the term, I will not see any one they send, I will see any gentleman you choose to bring to see me once; I am "getting better than I was, I will not submit to any other treatment, but I will see some gentleman once, I do this for the protection of my wife"—either before or after that she had said, "Doctor, Mr. Bartlett's friends will accuse me of poisoning him if he does not get out soon, if he gets worse, if he does not get better"—the conversation was a general one—I have tried to pick out who said the different things—it made little effect on me; I thought it referred to the mercurialism—I called in Dr. Dalby, who saw him once, and approved of my treatment—he prescribed a fresh tonic, and a combination of the drugs that hitherto I had given him separately—I asked Mrs. Bartlett whether any time elapsed between finding her husband dead and calling her servant and Mrs. Doggett—she said that as soon as she found she could not rouse him she ran up for the servant and sent her to me—she told me she was sitting beside her husband's feet in the easy-chair, which she usually, in fact where she always slept; she had her left arm round his feet—she said she woke and heard him snoring, but that it was a peculiar kind of snore; still, as it was not unusual with him to snore, she dropped asleep again—she evidently tried to describe to me the stertorous breathing—that later on she woke up with a cramp in her arm, and saw him lying on his face in an uncomfortable position—she described that her arm was round and resting on his feet—I concluded she meant outside the bedclothes—

that she rose from her chair and went towards his head to turn him into a better position—that she was alarmed at his condition and tried to rouse him; she found him cold; she applied brandy—I don't know whether she said she poured any down his throat; I understood she rubbed some on his chest (probably that was my inference), and went up to the servant's room and sent her for me—that the servant went into the kitchen, and Mrs. Bartlett chafed at the delay, and she called Mr. Doggett—I do not think she explained how she was able to turn him round—I did not understand that the whole body was turned round, but that his shoulders and head were twisted round, and the latter buried in the pillow—on that same day we discussed all the poisons I could think of that were rapid in their action—I asked her was it possible that he could have any digitalis or any of the alkaloids in his possession, I knew he was friendly with some wholesale chemists, and she said, "No, he could have had no poison without my knowing it, he could have got no poison without my knowledge"—I asked her, "What is that chlorodyne doing here?" for I had never seen it before—"Oh," she said, "Edwin used to rinse his mouth with it at night"—I said, "Rinse his mouth! then he must have swallowed some"—she said, "No, he only rubbed his gums"—I said, "Did he not go into the bedroom at all?"—she said, "No"—I said, "If he rinsed out his mouth and spat out the chlorodyne we must find some of it in the room"—I looked under the bed into the most natural receptacle—she said, "No, I think not, he never put much into his mouth, he only rubbed his gums"—chlorodyne smells strongly, I did not perceive any smell of it—the smell of chlorodyne that has stood for some time is extremely like that of pure chloroform—it contains 1 in 8 of pure chloroform—it would depend how much he swallowed for it to cause death—drugs had a peculiar action on the man—as little as a drachm of chlorodyne has killed—I thought it might possibly be so in this case—I have quite given up that idea now, because of the result of the analysis proving the absence of the other ingredients of chlorodyne, prussic acid, and the more stable alkaloids—I am sure it was not death from chlorodyne—on that morning of 1st January I was not aware that Mrs. Bartlett was in possession of chloroform—I knew nothing of it till 26 days afterwards—it then came upon me as a surprise—on the same occasion Mrs. Bartlett asked could he have died of chloroform—I cannot fix the date of the conversation—I don't know if anything was said about chloroform on the 1st of January; I think not; but there was nothing to make the mention of chloroform more remarkable to me than digitalis—the post-mortem examination was on the 2nd January—Dr. Green was the principal—Dr. Dudley was there as a looker on—Dr. Murray and Dr. Green were also there, and I took these notes—they were as accurately taken as I could do them. (The notes of the post-mortem examination were here read.) Atheroma is the definition of one of the coats of the blood vessels; aorta is one of the large blood vessels; oesophagus is the stomach, and epithelium is its scaly lining—the hyperdenia is the end of the stomach nearest the spleen—the dura mater comes between the skull and the other membranes of the brain—that examination discloses a healthy state of all the vital organs—there is a reference here to something abnormal in the condition of the stomach—from these notes I gather that the only abnormal condition, except

that of the stomach, are fluidity of the blood, with dissolving out of the colouring matter staining the tissues, and what I should scarcely, perhaps, allude to, a certain amount of adhesion present in the dura mater—excluding the stomach and blood, there was nothing suggestive of the cause of death—the blood was acted on through the contents of the stomach—the intestines were put into a bottle, but I did not see the sealing process—nothing was locked up then, but all the bottles which had belonged to the deceased, and all bottles and jars containing results of the post-mortem, were carried by my directions into the front room by the undertaker, I think, it being understood that the front room was going to be locked—I do not know if it was locked and the key handed to Mr. Wood—the post-mortem took place in the back room, the bedroom—I noticed a very white condition of the tongue of the dead man when I first saw the corpse on 1st January; that passed off before the post-mortem—it presented itself to me as something striking, but I only learned to interpret it some days afterwards by experiments made on myself of swallowing chloroform—I took 3 1/2 drachms into my mouth, and swallowed about 20 or 30 drops, ejecting the remainder, and when I looked in the glass found my tongue was very white—that was some days after the 26th—there then came to my mind the abnormal whiteness of the dead man's tongue—this condition of my own tongue passed off in a very few hours—I have had no previous experience of the effect of chloroform taken into the stomach—I do not remember to have seen Mrs. Matthews or Mr. Dyson on 1st January, I think not—my next recollection of Dyson was on the 2nd, the day of the post-mortem—Mrs. Bartlett called on me on the 6th at my request—I had before that told her the result of the post-mortem examination when I announced it to the assembled relatives on 2nd January—I acted as the doctors' spokesman—to the best of my recollection I said, "These gentlemen wish me to state that we have very carefully examined the body of the deceased, and we are unable to discover any pathological lethal cause, that is to say, any natural or obvious cause of death; the contents of the stomach are suspicious, and we have preserved them"—that was a correct statement of the result—I had gone before that downstairs to summon the relatives, who were in the smoking-room, and in the presence of Mrs. Bartlett and the others I said the contents of the stomach had a pungent, ethereal odour, and I probably said, "Dr. Greene, or one of the doctors, suggests the smell of chloroform, but if it is it is the chlorodyne"—I was under that delusion then; that delusion has disappeared entirely since—on the 2nd no search was made in the drawers in the back room; one of the drawers was brought into the front room in the presence of all the people—Mrs. Bartlett said nothing to me about possessing chloroform till 26th January—when I announced the result of the post-mortem on the 2nd, and that there was chloroform which I thought they had mistaken for chlorodyne, she made no answer—on the 6th she called on me—I informed her I wished to be put in possession of any facts surrounding the death of the deceased which would enable me on the following day to lay some clear statement before the Coroner—the inquest was then fixed for the next day—I likewise asked her to repeat the hurried account she had given on the morning of my visit to the corpse—I am not quite sure but what she brought to me on that occasion notes of how the time had elapsed between his

return from the dentist and my appearance there at 4 o'clock—I asked her to make memoranda while the events were still fresh in her memory of how the time had passed—I think it was on this occasion she read it to me—I said I thought that they were satisfactory, but I did not take a note of them, for I did not wish to burden my mind with things that had been observed by another person, and which I thought she would like to give in evidence herself—I requested her to keep them herself; I thought she would give the evidence herself—she was not examined before the Coroner—I have some brief notes of her visits—I do not know when they were made, but they were made on the police-court paper—on 6th January I had no note of importance—I think all the conversation about the impossibility of swallowing chloroform had taken place much earlier—chloroform was mentioned on that occasion, for unfortunately I continued to harp on that subject—she reiterated the same statement that he could not have swallowed it—I saw Mrs. Bartlett several times between January 6th and 26th, on 14th and 18th twice—I had heard of the result of the analysis—on 26th I opened the conversation thus: "Mrs. Bartlett, I have some good news for you"—I knew she was much worried—"the report now is that the Government analyst is going to give in acetute of lead as the cause of death, which is nonsense, for there was no lead in the stomach; likewise the report says that he is going to return a verdict of chloroform as the cause of death, which is very improbable," I said "at any rate, either one or the other, that should set your mind at rest, but had it been one of the secret poisons given in small amounts, and which could be administered without the patient knowing it, you would have most certainly been very seriously accused of having poisoned him, by some people;" she then very much surprised me by saying, "I am afraid, doctor, it is too true; I wish anything but chloroform had been found"—naturally that led me to ask question, "Why?" "What do you mean?" or something of that sort, and she proceeded to make a long statement—I have a note of it made on 6th February—the matter is fairly clear in my recollection—she began her story with a preface containing a sketch of her married life, that being married young she had been induced to enter into a marriage compact, scarcely understanding the meaning of its terms; that the marital relations of the pair were, in deference to certain peculiar views held by her husband, to be entirely of a Platonic nature, sexual intercourse was not to occur—those terms were adhered to with one solitary exception in consequence of her fondness for children and her anxiety to become a mother; and after her confinement the former terms of a Platonic nature were resumed, she being indifferent on the matter—her husband was kind to her; they were affectionate, although on one occasion she objected to the use of the term "affectionate"—that is only a quibble in words—they each strove in every way to fulfil each other's wishes and succeeded in living upon most amicable terms—that happiness was on one occasion disturbed by her husband's father; she then entered into some family details which have slipped my memory, I mean about the conduct of her husband's father—she had consented to his living with them—the brother was not referred to—she said the father made her life miserable by his constant insults, and when she appealed to her husband to resent those insults he, in his mild way, did not act upon her suggestion with the zeal that she thought the occasion

demanded; she consequently left her husband's house and hid herself from him, I think in the house of an aunt, and only consented to return upon an ample apology being made—that was the end of it—I cannot fix when this occurred—it was the only break in their conjugal happiness—she then said, her position had not been an easy one, and might be almost called cruel, for her husband, though meaning no cruelty, put her in a difficult position—no female friends were invited to the house, or relations, but he had always liked to surround her with male acquaintances—she said "He thought me clever; he wished to make me more clever, and the more attention and admiration I gained from these male acquaintances the more delighted did he appear; their attention to me seemed to give him pleasure"—the last few months of his life his nature teemed changed—"we became acquainted with Mr. Dyson—my husband threw us together—he requested us in his presence to kiss, and he seemed to enjoy it—he had given me to Mr. Dyson"—her husband having fully effected the transfer to Mr. Dyson, I mean still in a Platonic sense, her husband suddenly developed symptoms of wishing to assume his marital rights, which he had never before claimed—she put it in as delicate a manner as she could, but the meaning was he showed a desire to have sexual intercourse—she resented this—she said "Edwin, you know you have given me to Mr. Dyson, it is not right that you should do now what during all the married years of our life you have not done," and he agreed that it was so—she said that it was a duty to her womanhood and to the man to whom she was practically affianced at his wish—as he got, better, and while I was treating him, these manifestations became very urgent, and she sought for means the more thoroughly to emphasise her appeal to him or to prevent his putting his impulses into effect—one of those means, she said, was the possessing herself of a quantity of chloroform—I had no idea till I heard it in Court how long she had had it, but she said, "the presence of chloroform in my drawer troubled my mind"—she said her object was to sprinkle some upon a handkerchief and wave it in his face every time it was necessary; thinking that thereby he would go peacefully to sleep—I told her the danger, she would run if she had put that into practice, of their both being chloroformed by the bottle spilling, and that her plan would be ineffectual—I explained "Trying to put chloroform upon your handkerchief and waving it in the face of your husband, he would have resisted, a struggle would have ensued, the bottle would have capsized and chloroformed the pair of you"—it is not the first time that chloroform has been upset in a bed, and the stopper come out—she said "I never kept a secret from Edwin, and the presence of chloroform in my drawer troubled my mind"—I put the word "my" in because I have since learned it was there, it was "In my possession," or "in my drawer," and "I was also troubled with some scruples as to whether putting my plan into practice would have been right, and on the last day of the old year, when all was quiet and the servant had left" (I am putting that in because the servant had left) "on the last night of year when he was in bed I brought the chloroform to him and gave the the bottle to him," and informed him of her intention, but she gave no details of the conversation—I asked "Was not your husband very cross with you, or alarmed, or what was his demeanour?"—she said "No, he was not cross; we talked amicably and seriously, and he turned round

on his side and pretended to go to sleep," or to sulk, or something of that kind—in answer to a question from me she told me that he had looked at the chloroform, in was in a large round bottle I believe she told me, or it was in a large bottle, labelled "Chloroform," and corked, not tied down with leather or anything of that sort, and not full; he put it up the side where he was sitting or lying, on the mantelpiece at the corner—the next thing was that she fell asleep sitting in the chair where she always slept—I may add that she had slept there ever since I had attended the patient, notwithstanding my remonstrance; she went to sleep with her arm round his foot, then woke and found him snoring, then woke again and found him dead—she had given me the same story on the morning of the death—I said "Did you look at the bottle of chloroform, was there much gone from it?"—she said "I don't know whether much was gone from it or not"—I did not ask her when she possessed herself of it—I asked her who got it for her—she did not answer, and I saw it was a question to which no answer would be given—I asked her how she got it; she said "Some one got it for me," and I asked no more questions; but later on there was no secret about it—the mantelpiece was not far from the head of the bed—I described the situation of everything I found on the mantelpiece on January 1st—there was no chloroform bottle on the mantelpiece that morning—I have described all I saw—I asked her on 26th January what she had done with the bottle on 1st January; she said that she took it from the mantelpiece and put it away in her drawer about breakfast time—that is how the word "drawer" got into my mind—I asked her where it was when I was examining the room on January 1st, concerning that I am very much confused, but she said "It was there when I was there" or "It was there when I was sent for"—I am quite clear that it was not there when I was there, because both Mr. Doggett and I searched in her presence—she could see us searching, she never left the room—I do not think I asked her on the 26th where she had left the bottle of chloroform on the 1st, for it seemed obvious to me—she volunteered no explanation, but she wanted to know what he was dead of—she told me that the bottle remained in her drawer till the Wednesday that she took her things away, the 6th; that was the day before the first inquest, when she was allowed to remove her things, and she said that she took the bottle of chloroform with her, emptied it out at the carriage window, I think she said from the train, and threw the bottle away into some water—she told me that she did that on January 6th, the day she took her things away—I did not ask why she did it, nor did she tell me—she told me when she first suspected the real cause of her husband's death, and probably she told me that day, but I quite forget what she said.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I had no knowledge of Mr. or Mrs. Bartlett's existence before December 10—as far as I know I was called in because the place where I practise faces their street—I had 20 or 21 opportunities of seeing them together—on some days I visited them twice or even thrice, and at one visit I spent several hours there, and so far as I could see and judge she was attending him with anxious affection—I could not have wished for a more devoted nurse for him; I say that emphatically—I could have wished for one with a little better memory, but that defect was supplied by her keeping a written record, which she used to pin to the mantelpiece—she tended him night and day most

affectionately—I do not remember her speaking of breaking down and being tired, but I noticed it and commented upon it in his presence—I was told that night after night during his illness she had slept sitting at the foot of his bed—she said that she slept comfortably in the chair and never went to bed—very soon after my first visit I noticed that it was telling on her and asked her on several occasions to go to bed, and she refused each time—it was obvious to me that she needed rest and was suffering in strength, and about the beginning of December I said "Now, Mrs. Bartlett, there is no excuse for your not going to bed;" she said "What is the use of my going to bed, doctor? he will walk about the room like a ghost; he will not sleep unless I sit and hold his toe"—the drollness of the expression fixed itself on my mind—when she first called me in she gave me a sketch of the case I was going to visit—I cannot remember what she said, but I said "This promises to be a a very peculiar case, I will come as soon as I can"—she did not give me a false account of his condition, or I should remember it—when I first went to see him she had preserved his motions and she continued to do so regularly, and his vomit also—his urine was sent to me to analyse more than once, but I only analysed it once, because I knew that his kidneys were sound—I paid him two visits on 10th December—this (produced) is a list of my visits, but I paid some which I never entered—on the day that I saw him twice I found great nervous prostration; his muscular system was good enough; his physical state was not seriously impaired; he suffered from something more than diarrhoea, it was menina, diarrhoea with black motions which contained indications of haemorrhage from the bowels—he complained of pain in his left side just about here (The hip), and there was a peculiar dulness on percussion which puzzled me and I could find nothing to account for it on the post-mortem—it passed off in three or four days of treatment—he told me he had been overworked in business, and I advised him to see nobody connected with business—he complained of sickness and vomited, and on the day I first saw him he had vomited and continued to vomit for about a couple of days, I think—he was in a very bad state; his condition was that of nervous exhaustion and depression, and he was evidently hypochondriacal—his breath was very foetid and his pulse poor, small, and slight—he had a blue line round the edges of his gums, which were red and spongy, and there was some small amount of salivation, an extra large now of saliva (which at once suggested to me that he had taken mercury), and I examined him carefully for signs of syphilis, but found none—I don't think I waited on that occasion till Mrs. Bartlett left the room—I think it was on the second visit I asked him the question privately—after a quarter of an hour he or Mrs. Bartlett said "Well, doctor, what is the matter with me?" and I said "Mercurial poisoning"—I said it sharply, thinking to take him unawares and make him admit it; not then, but to show him that there was no hiding any secrets from me—he said "How can that be?" I said "From taking mercury"—he said "I have not taken away"—I said "Think it over"—I did not quite accept the answer—my experience is that the answer is sometimes not to be relied on, especially when a third party is present, and when Mrs. Bartlett had left the room I asked him whether he had been taking medicines—he said "No"—it flashed through my mind that he had been in the hands of some quack or practitioner who had given him mercury for

real or supposed syphilis; but I did not distrust him after his answer—he had not had syphilis, but he had spyhiliphobia—I have made notes; this is my account—"When Mrs. Bartlett was out of the room I asked him if he could account for it, if he had not been taking medicine—he assured me that he had not, and I did not press the question, because I thought he had been in the hands of quacks for a real or supposed secret disease, and was ashamed to own it"—I said that perhaps that was so—that was the account I set down on paper—I would stand by that more than what I say vivd voce, for when I have a pen in my hand I do not make mistakes—I upon that told him to be careful not to take anything I did not prescribe while I was attending him—I was anxious that he should not.

By the COURT. I think I found out what was the origin of that condition—he attributed it (and I have no reason to doubt that he was right) to haying taken a pill of unknown strength and unknown constituents.

By MR. CLARKE. This is an accurate report: "December 11th.—This morning, or the evening of yesterday, he told me he had found a clue to the mercury. A few days previously he had taken a pill which, in a moment of abstraction, he picked out of a drawer," &c., reading the witness previous statement. The bowel and the physical symptoms began to improve from the very first, but his spirits did not improve—he continued to complain of sleeplessness—on the 12th I saw him twice—I think after my second visit I let his messenger come home with me, as the chemist's shop was closed, and I made a bromide draught for him—on Sunday, the 13th, I visited him three times, and for the first time found it necessary to inject morphia. (Referring to his notes.) I was doubtful whether it was given him for dental purposes, but evidently it was given him to procure some sleep—I had already, I have no doubt, given him some few doses of nux vomica and bromide, or I should not have resorted to morphia—it was a peculiarity in him that it made him very restless; large doses of bromide he declared were stimulants, but they are the very reverse—about the 14th the blue line round the teeth began to give way to a grey sloughing margin, and I brought in a surgeon-dentist in consultation, and his view favoured mercury and not tartar—on the 15th I visited him twice, and again in a night visit I injected morphia—at that time his sleeplessness was getting worse, not from the former cause, but I have no doubt his teeth were then getting painful—on the 16th there were two visits, and he complained of pain in his lower lip, I think—I gave him a tonic, nux vomica, gentian, and peppermint, to produce appetite, and to allay the pain and the flatulence—I do not remember pain in the tongue—the pain in the lips was caused by his teeth, and in the under surface of the tongue—on the 16th he had two teeth extracted; two central incisor groups—it was determined to extract the loose roots, and they were extracted—they were very much decayed and horrible, and loose—there was no fungoid growth at the roots on the 17th—by "horrible" I mean they were in such a bad state of decay, and the gums were still bad, and in front, near the incisor teeth, the grey slough which succeeded the blue line had sloughed off, leaving a jagged margin—as early as the 19th, when he got rid of those teeth, or roots, I began to talk to him about getting out of doors—he refused; he said it would kill him—he really was so obstinate about going out of doors, that he almost at one time made me believe that I had overlooked something serious in

him—he was so reasonable on some points that I could scarcely put it down to sheer folly—Dr. Dudley's chief advice was for him to get out—it was of no use, as he passively resisted—he told me he liked to he still and feel happy—he told me on the 18th that the family wanted to send down another doctor, and Dr. Dudley came on the 19th—Mr. Bartlett said that he was content to get an independent opinion at one visit, and left me to choose somebody to come—I chose Dr. Dudley because he lived near, and he was a hospital physician, and he seemed a most appropriate witness to call in—I have said, "During my visit Mrs. Bartlett laid 'Doctor, I have something very unpleasant to say, his relations who are never content with anything I do, want to send him a physician of their own choosing.' I answered at once, 'Well, let them send him one, I have almost done with him; he only requires an outing to be quite well, and then he ought to go to the South Coast.'" That is quite correct—it is not in my entry that I "turned to Mr. Bartlett for an explanation of that statement. He sat up in bed, and said, 'Yes, that is all true; I am sorry to say that my friends are not friends to my wife '"—it is not in my notes, but certainly he said, "My wife and I will manage our own affairs, and not trouble other people"—on the 19th I supplied a sleeping draught, chloral hydrate and hydrochlorate of morphia and syrup of red poppy; he was then pretty much as usual—I agreed with Dr. Dudley that he was suffering from sub-acute gastritis—we attributed his mental condition to his account that he had been suffering from great sleeplessness for a considerable time—on the 20th I increased the dose of chloral hydrate—on the 21st the lower incisors were removed, and the teeth were principally at fault, so that we had little left to complain of—the gums were getting sloughy round the teeth—about that time probably (I am not sure but that she said it more than once), Mrs. Bartlett told me before to husband that he would still talk about dying—I told him I would accompany him to Torquay after Christmas, and I mentioned Dr. Dalby there, because I thought it would give him confidence that he would be looked after, although he required no looking after, practically—I wanted to get him away from his wife, and send him to Torquay alone, and that was one reason why I offered to accompany him—he was practically a hysterical patient about this time, and his wife petted him too much, and what would have done him good would have been a sea trip with no one to nurse him and hold his toe, and that sort of nonsense—if he had been abandoned to take care of himself he would have been all right—he wanted dental care, but from a medical point of view he was out of hand—on the 24th I prescribed the placebo, which would do not harm nor good, except as far as he imaged it was going to and I did not tell his wife the secret of it—ten drops were to be given in wine and repeated if necessary an hour later if the pain was severe, and I think I said he must be careful not to take a third dose—up to that time he had been getting better physically—on the 23d he passed the worm, and that threw everything back again, and he was in such a condition about it that threw I put off the treatment for two days, partly to see if any more passed, and partly to let him gather up pluck and strength—he was much depressed about it, and thought certainly he had proved there was something wrong with him then—the vermifuge came two days than I had found out—the next day, I think, he told me he felt worms

wriggling up his throat, and he kept to it; I don't know if it was delusion—two or three days ago I saw a worm that did wriggle up a patient's throat, and was vomited—Mr. Bartlett may have felt it, but I think in his case it was a mistake, because I asked the doctor to search for a lumbricoid in the post-mortem, and his motions were watched from that day to the day of his death—he always described them in my presence as in his throat, not as wriggling up him—that would be the imagination of a very nervous man, upset by this having happened, but I should not be inclined to set down every man as nervous who said that, because worms might be there—I have no basis to form an opinion as to whether they could be there—his nervous and depressed condition at this time was not necessarily connected with this imagination about worms—he was in a more depressed and troubled condition after that time for a day or two—he told me an extraordinary rigmarole about his being on the night of the 26th under somebody's influence; he thought he and his wife had both been mesmerised by a friend—on going in on the next morning I said "Well, Mr. Bartlett, how have you slept?"—he said "I could not sleep; I was nervous and restless when I saw my wife asleep in the easy chair, so I got up and went and stood over her like this" (holding up his hands, he was in an excited state) "for two hours, and I felt the vital force being drawn from her to me; I felt it going into me through my finger tips, and after that I lay down and slept"—his wife said "That is a nice story, doctor, imagine him standing for two hours and doing anything"—Mrs. Bartlett ridiculed it as mere delusion on his part—I did not imagine he would stand for two hours doing anything; I was of Mrs. Bartlett's opinion on that matter.

Thursday, April 15th.

DR. LEACH (Recalled and further Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE). I did not find that the sedatives produced their expected effect on him—the same thing happened with respect to the purgatives—on the 26th I subjected him to a very severe treatment in order to open the bowels—there were two draughts and then two globules containing croton oil; those he called stimulants—the croton oil pills ought to have been very effectual and very rapid for their purpose, but he attributed to them precisely an opposite effect, he said he felt stimulated by them, that they were warm and pleasant to his stomach—I then got him hot tea and coffee to induce these remedies to act, but it did not have the desired effect, nothing had—I then applied galvanism to the abdomen, and that failed, and I practically gave it up in despair—I may mention that he was not suffering from constipation previously, it was not constipation that I was treating him for, but the vermifuge worm powder that had to be driven out of the digestive organs—he had swallowed the worm powder and I naturally had to give purgatives to clear that out—if it had remained there it would have made him very miserable, he would have seen everything green and have suffered from buzzing in the ears and all sorts of troubles which I didn't wish to subject him to—he did not have these troubles, he would have had them—I have tried the same drug upon myself, and always try to avoid letting any patient experience what I experienced on that occasion—it was carried off his bowels after two or three days, he did not suffer from constipation afterwards—I saw a motion the next morning when I called, a small one I grant, it was not satisfactory—I told him on Tuesday, the 29th, that I should not come on the Wednesday, and he

was apparently distressed at that—I don't remember what he said; it was not the first time I had threatened—the idea had always disturbed him of my not continuing to attend him, and Mrs. Bartlett said on previous occasions "You had better come, doctor, he will be anxious," or something of that sort—that was why I visited him so often as I did during some portion of the time—I heard that he had crying fits about this time, and spoke to him about them; I saw none myself—I don't remember his saying he couldn't help it when I spoke to him about it, he made some reply of a queer nature I know; it was a reply quite fitting the case—I said before the Coroner "I was told by Mrs. Bartlett on several occasions that the deceased had had one of his crying fits, and on speaking to him he said that was so; Mrs. Bartlett said 'Edwin sits in his armchair and cries an hour at a time, and when I ask him about it he says it was because he was so happy;'" if that was true I should have put it down to male hysteria; when I asked him why he cried he said he could not help it—that is most probably true, because the facts were better in my mind then; Mrs. Bartlett's reply I remember distinctly now, she said "He cries because he says he is so happy," that couldn't fail to strike me as being odd—that was said in his presence—he was not a man to discuss medical matters; he was not a talkative man—the only time that I saw him what might be called talkative was the time that he told me about his being mesmerised; then he fired up with quite unwonted eloquence—during the last two or three days of his life, on the 29th, 30th and 31st I think it was, his jaw symptoms became alarming, that pointed to necrosis of a superficial kind—I do not use the word "alarming" in its worse sense, necrosis may often be a very terrible matter indeed—there was necrosis there that might have led to considerable inconvenience as regards mastication, it might have prolonged the time during which he would have to go without false teeth, and it was the absence of teeth that led to many of his other troubles; it was a necrosis that might have caused considerable sloughing of the gums, which he then had slightly; a necrosis that might ultimately have resulted in an albuta process, that is a part of the socket, and which might be more difficult for a dentist to place a set of false teeth upon; a necrosis that might have considerably upset him—I had no great fear as to the ultimate result of this necrosis at affecting his life, but I was alarmed as to the consequences that might follow—the most common cause of necrosis is injury to the bone or periosteum, by traumatic or chemical causes—necrosis may follow traumatically from a blow, and indirectly on a fever—in a particular form it may follow on phosphorus poisoning, caries begins the process then—syphilis is the most common cause of necrosis—I have no doubt there have been a good many cases where necrosis has followed upon taking mercury even in small doses where syphilis has not been present at all—when I saw Mr. Bartlett first I told him he was suffering from mercurial poisoning; there was no necrosis then, it appeared indirectly—I take it to be that mercury is one of the causes in the chain of events that leads up to necrosis—an extra dose of some pill which contained mercury would have caused the necrosis of the jaw, or have had a serious operation in producing it—on the afternoon of the 31st I privately arranged with Mrs. Bartlett about his going to the dentist's, in order to spare him the dread of looking forward to that visit—after he left me that evening he understood that I would

come and see him on the following morning, and in the ordinary course I should have gone there on 1st January—he and his wife left me at the dentist's door and went back to Claverton Street in a Hansom—I was present when the deceased referred to the very happy life he had led, and saying that he should like to be married again—it was on the way to the dentist's—as we were approaching the corner of Denbigh Street and Charlwood Street the conversation ran upon the subject of recent marriages in the locality—Mrs. Bartlett said to me, "This morning Edwin and I, doctor, were talking about the number of our friends who are getting married, and we were saying we wished almost that we were unmarried that we might have the pleasure of marrying each other again"—I turned to the deceased and said, "That is very flattering to you, Mr. Bartlett, after so many years experience of you," and his reply was not quite clear for he was muffled up, his mouth was covered with wraps on the way to the dentist's, but he said, "Yes, we suit one another very well in our views," or "ways," I am not sure which he said, and then the conversation dropped before we arrived at the dentist's—he knew he was on the way to the dentist's to have the operation performed; I went to Claverton Street to take him to the dentist's myself, and I found that he was already dressed—the prisoner was lively and cheerful on the way, trying to keep his spirits up; she always did that—when I went there after the death Mrs. Bartlett was apparently very much distressed—directly I entered the room she said, coming up to me, "Is he really dead?" and then it was that I made the formal examination, really thinking in my mind at the time, "How can I best put it to this poor woman? how can I best really break the news to her?" and I turned round and said, "Yes, Mrs. Bartlett, I am afraid he is," or something to that effect, and then she burst out crying bitterly—when that was over we began to talk about the possible cause of death, and she said "What is he dead of, doctor?" or "What can he be dead of?" I am not sure of the words, and my answer was "I don't know"—I then asked if he could get prussic acid, that was the most rapid poison that suggested itself to my mind, and she said, "Oh no, he could have got at no poison without my knowledge"—after that I suggested digitalis and other alkaloids that he had got, anything which his friend Squires had had, or anything that he had had by him, and she negatived everything—she appeared anxious, as far as I could judge, to get at any suggestion as to the death, she seemed not only grieved but very much alarmed, very much scared, that is the impression on my mind now, of course I didn't think it then—when speaking of poisons I mentioned morphia and opium among others, and she said "There are the two opium pills even which he had had by him some time, he asked me to give him some last night, but I am very glad I did not"—I went over to the cupboard and saw the pills there—she certainly wished to have the post-mortem as quickly as possible; she chafed at the delay till next day—when I told her that Dr. Green could not come that afternoon she said "Can't he be persuaded to come, in order that he might make the post-mortem on that day?" she said "Spare no expense, get any assistance you want, we are all interested in knowing the cause of death," and it was on the strength of that permission that I telegraphed to Dr. Green to bring an assistant, any gentleman he chose—the prisoner spoke of the death as a mystery that she wanted to have cleared up; if Dr. Green had been able to come that afternoon, the post-mortem

would have taken place then—I wanted to employ Dr. Green, for I thought there might be some peculiar pathological questions involved; he is an eminent pathologist—the communication she made to me on 26th January I considered was made to me in confidence—I went before the Coroner, not thinking I should have to give that evidence, thinking the would go into the box and give it herself, and that I should never be called upon to give it; I felt utterly incompetent to give the narrative straight off without thinking it over, and I said I was so confused I did not know what to answer, but as I got out of the Court I wrote it—her words were that she gave the bottle into his hand, they talked affectionately about their relations to one another for a short time, and he seemed grieved, and turned over—I have not read my evidence before the Coroner since I gave it—my statement was written a little rapidly, if I had to write it now I should say that the prisoner said that the idea of chloroform scarcely entered into her head—I do not mean that she did not say that the idea did not flash across her mind, but that she had failed to entertain it—that evidence was given at a time much nearer the conversation than the time of which we are now speaking; that is the part of the deposition which I wrote and gave to the Coroner—the conversation took place on 26th January, and I wrote it out on 4th February, but too much stress must not be put upon any word or sentence—I ran home and wrote it out very rapidly, and did not weigh accurately every word I used—when I suggested that the deceased had swallowed chlorodyne and not chloroform the prisoner combated the idea, and pointed out that the chlorodyne he used was simply to rub the gums—she would not accept the suggestion that it was chlorodyne; she refuted it—I do not remember any one telling her after the post-mortem examination that she must not remain in the rooms—I think she said she would not remain; at all events, it was understood that she was going—she handed me her keys, and asked me to go to a drawer in the room where the corpse was lying and get her hat out—I took the key and fetched the whole drawer—she took her hat from it, and I put the drawer with its contents back in its place, looked it, and took the key back to her—she asked me to keep the keys, but I suggested that Mr. Wood, her solicitor, should take them—I afterwards accepted them and took them home—there has been some slight misunderstanding about those keys, and I wish plainly understood the circumstances under which I took them. (MR. CLARKE here read portions of the witness's evidence before the Coroner.) There is a mistake in those depositions; I think the Treasury have the exact copy—I am a little confused this morning; I am sorry I am such a bad witness—Mrs. Bartlett had, as you are aware, consulted me two or three times since her husband's death, and I had become aware of facts during those consultations which somewhat paved the way for accepting what she told me on the 28th—facts regarding herself came to me from her lips as a medical man, advising her as to herself; so that up to then her statement did not altogether surprise me; it was not altogether new—all the matters which I observed and which came to my knowledge with regard to her prepared me for it and justified me in accepting that statement as a correct one; which, if coming from any other party, would have seemed almost too extraordinary for credence—if I may be permitted, I will look through the statements and tell you as I come to them any facts which suggest themselves to my mind—"Mr. Bartlett was a man of very

strange ideas," that goes without saying; one or two of his strange ideas were those relating to matrimony—I have not heard him say anything about matrimony, but he had very strange ideas about mesmerism and vital force, and things too insignificant to make a note of, which conveyed to my mind the impression that my patient was one of the most extraordinary men I ever had to deal with, though a very pleasant and nice man—his communications about mesmerism were such that at the time I actually suspected him of insanity, and I tried to find a key to it—I never heard him allude to two wives, one for use and one for companionship; that came from her—this (produced) is the written statement I gave to the Coroner—it says, "Mr. Bartlett, the deceased, was a man of very strange ideas, which I can corroborate," but the words "which I can corroborate" were struck through with a pencil by me at the Coroner's table—their marriage relationship was not mentioned in Mr. Bartlett's presence at any time—when Mrs. Bartlett was breaking, or suffering from the strain of watching, or her husband thought so, I suggested that they should both go to bed in the back room; I don't remember Mr. Bartlett's answer, but he did not do so—he gave me no reason—the fact that he did not do so, although I suggested it, is one of the things in my mind which supported that statement—I know that he had always slept in a camp bedstead, and I have a strong impression of having heard it mentioned that they did not occupy the same bed, even before they came to Claverton Street, but the impression is so vague that I cannot say more—I have the impression that I have heard it before, and I think in his presence; it seems mixed up with him somehow—I I have no doubt the recollection of these things came to my mind as supporting the statement Mrs. Bartlett was making to me—all that I knew about the deceased and his wife passed in review before my mind at the time and enabled me to accept that statement—then follows: "Among them was that a man should have two wives, one for companionship and the other for use"—I think I should have remembered that certainly if it had been in those words—"At the age of sixteen she was selected by him in the former capacity"—I knew that she had been married very young, "as a life companion, for whom no carnal feeling should be entertained"—I observed his manner to other people and to his wife, and while she was telling me this the picture of it came back into my mind, and although I remembered signs of affection, kindness, and interest, I can say there was nothing in his demeanour to her to make me doubt that—I can believe that what I witnessed was the affection of brother and sister; I don't say it was—my mind received that impression, which to that extent supported her statement that the marriage contract was that they should live assexually as loving friends—as to that rule being observed for six years, I had heard a child was born and that her first pregnancy was after six years—while he was alive I had heard a child was born, and the first professional consultation I had with Mrs. Bartlett led to questions that certainly support this statement that her first and only pregnancy occurred about six years ago—what she communicated to me was consistent with that—in the course of consultation with her, on January 14, I learnt that she had been pregnant once, and that some years previously—that was said independently of this case or anything with regard to her husband's death—I fancy little was said on that day about her husband; it was a purely

medical consultation—"To earnest entreaties that she should become a mother," I knew she was fond of children—I had heard before how fond she was of children and dogs, she told me that in her husband's presence—"child born died at its birth," that was new—"their relations were not those of matrimony," I have explained in what sense that was new to me—"the deceased made no secret of his views on marriage," that was new to me—she told me something about the trouble he had with his aunt for having mentioned his views on matrimony in her house—"and the doctor who delivered Mrs. Bartlett was given to understand that the child was the result of a single coitus;" I did not hear the name of Dr. Woodward as that of the doctor who was called in, to my recollection; I thought it was Dr. Barraclough, that may be the name which Mr. Bartlett senior mentioned to me once—"and with few exceptions had no differences," that I am quite prepared to acknowledge—"this she did to please him," that I am quite prepared to accept, I had seen how she tried in every way to please him—some facts which I do not remember came before me of her studies—very probably I heard of her going in for examination, I do not remember certainly—"for he desired her to be very learned on all subjects;" I remember words less than looks when reading this—I remember once, the first time I saw Dyson there I think, he and she were discussing some rather remote subject, and I was interested in watching my patient, who sat and never uttered a word, but watched his wife talking with a look of admiration that fitted in with this sentence—"affected to admire her physically," that I don't know—"surrounded her with male acquaintances," that explained a good deal that had puzzled me with regard to Dyson, whom I had seen there from time to time, and who was there a good deal it occurred to me—the husband seemed quite to take it as a matter of course; he was as welcome to one as the other as far as I saw, and he spoke to me of Dyson in terms of the highest admiration and affection, so far as he would be likely to touch on the subject of affection—Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett were very proud of Dyson I knew—they had his photograph in the room—I think he remarked how very highly educated Dyson was, and they spoke in terms of great affection too—the sentence "I was cognisant" was put in to mark the beginning of absolutely new facts—from the bed on which Mr. Bartlett lay one could reach the mantelpiece or something on it without getting up, not lying down flat, but by rising on the left arm it would be easy to reach—as a rule medicine bottles were not kept on the mantelpiece, but in the bedroom—I mentioned to Mrs. Bartlett, "Why don't you keep his medicine near him?" and she said, "I like to make this room as little like an invalid's room as possible," so that there were rarely bottles on the mantelpiece—in my experience I have at no time seen a case of death by poisoning with liquid chloroform; it certainly is among the rare causes of death from poison, it has occurred—I have seen a case of what was supposed to be death by inhalation—I have administered chloroform about 200 times—it is an anxious operation—of late years the use of chloroform as an agent for producing anaesthesia has been lessened, and ether has been used instead, because it is less dangerous in most conditions, and some things incidental to chloroform are not so often found with ether, vomiting for instance—the patient usually vomits after inhaling chloroform, or even during the administration; it depends very much on the

condition of the stomach, whether food has been given previously—If I were going to administer chloroform I should give my patient no food for at least four hours before, and then only beef-tea or some liquid easily digested—if he had any indigestible substance in the stomach, such as a substantial quantity of mango chutnee, it might produce vomiting; I should not like to say it would, it is a very likely suggestion—I have never administered chloroform to an adult in sleep; and have only heard of its being done in the Pall Mall Gazette, which I do not accept as medical authority; I am not saying it could not be done—as a matter of personal experience I am not familiar with the post-mortem indications of death from inhalation of chloroform, but as a matter of general knowledge I am—it would depend on the quantity what the post-mortem appearances would be—in that case where 15 drops has killed by inhalation you would find on post-mortem examination no signs whatever to eyes or nose, because it is sudden inanition of the functions and immediate death—that would be rather from a too strong percentage of chloroform into the larynx and a disturbance of the heart's functions than the entrance of chloroform into the system—in administering chloroform you have to be very careful as to the proportion of the mixture of chloroform vapour with the air, you must not go above 4 per cent if you can help it, and if you do it is dangerous—in case of death from such a small quantity of chloroform there is no indication of it whatever, because the death is sudden—in cases where the patient has died after chloroform narcosis has been thoroughly produced, you will find the smell of chloroform in the lungs in all probability—it would depend of course on the length of time—we are dealing with a case of real inhalation of chloroform, chloroform narcosis, or in popular language, until the man is chloroformed; there would also be probably, but not necessarily, some amount of congestion of the lungs; the same as regards the brain, and in a case of death from an excessive amount of chloroform there would be fluidity of the blood and staining of the brain, and the brain itself smelling of chloroform—in fact in the three instances I have noticed you will find very nearly the same effects as you would find in a case of poisoning by liquid chloroform, except that there would be more to be seen about the lungs—the effect on the brain would be the same in death by swallowing or inhalation, but there might be more congestion, but there would not be the same effect on the lungs—I think the smell of the brain would be the same—there need not necessarily be anything peculiar about the heart when a man has died from inhaling or swallowing chloroform, but as a matter of fact you generally find those who have died from inhalation have died from fatty degeneration of the heart—if he had died from asphyxia through an overdose of chloroform by inhalation you would find the right side of the heart engorged with blood and the lungs too—suppose a person to have been chloroformed, and shortly after, without recovering, to die, you would find the same post-mortem indications—there would not necessarily be engorgement, unless the death were from asphyxia—I don't know about the urine—I did not make the post-mortem, I was taking my observations from the skilled pathologist.

Re-examined. There was nothing in the notes dictated to me by Dr. Greene to lead me to the conclusion at the time that death had taken place from chloroform, and there was nothing in the post-mortem examination itself up to that time or since to lead to that conclusion, only

suggestive of it—the smell in the stomach was suggestive of it—the post-mortem appearances of the different parts of the body would be of small importance, except as regards the smell—the fluidity of the blood, the staining of the tissues, all agree with chloroform poisoning, as with many other poisonings—I exclude the stomach—the appearance of the brain was so slight it is waste of time to allude to it—it is my own opinion that the effect on the brain would be the same from swallowing or inhaling chloroform—I have had no personal experience of death from swallowing liquid chloroform—I have made no actual experiments with animals or persons to ascertain whether my opinion is correct or not—until this case I had read of death from liquid chloroform, but it is rare—I have since studied the subject, and read up cases from back numbers of the Lancet—vomiting, if chloroform is inhaled, is a very common thing, and generally arises from its being administered too soon after a meal, but that is not the only cause—four hours after will do if the meal consists of a chloroform breakfast, beef-tea or a light breakfast—in cases of an ordinary meal it would depend on what the meal was, and on the digestion of the patient—beef-tea, and then the administration four hours afterwards, would be the right way, and that would be calculated to avoid vomiting—as a rule, where large quantities of liquid chloroform are taken, it seems to produce vomiting—I remember a case where a lady walked down Sloane Street swallowing four ounces, and she vomited afterwards—I cannot call to mind reading any other oases—I should think two ounces would be enough to cause vomiting, but I am only guessing now—I should say the smallest fatal dose for an adult would be six drachms—I have heard Dr. Stevenson in evidence say that chloroform could be given by inhalation to a person asleep, and I accept fully anything he says—I see no difficulty as to that being done with skill—my own opinion is that it is difficult, but that it could be done; it would require skill—it would be inhaled in the ordinary way—the prisoner first consulted me as a medical man on 14th January, and it was then, I think, she told me she had only been pregnant once—it was on a previous occasion she said she was very fond of children—when she consulted me on 14th January she alluded incidentally to her sexual relations as a wife with her husband—it was on the general subject of sexual intercourse and her internal conditions that she consulted me, and then I learnt she had been pregnant once—I presume she said she had not been pregnant since—I don't remember anything more—on the 26th she said what I have already told you—I have certainly put all that is important before the Court—I heard nothing about his married life from Mr. Bartlett—I cannot describe what I mean by saying they were like brother and sister—their conversation going to the dentist's on the 31st of their happy married life and about being married again, was in no way inconsistent with it—I observed the affectionate terms they were on—I am prepared to say I had observed there was nothing sexual—there is more than their not going to bed in the back room when I suggested it; there was the general bearing of the parties—I am unable to express more than I have said; I have seen no other people of whom I have fancied the same thing—I should say it is a very unusual thing in married life, and I don't "say it struck me at the time it was so—I have merely admitted that from what I remember of their relations one to another, it is quite possible there may have been nothing sexual in the relations I witnessed—I have

heard of things very much like a man sleeping year after year in the same bed with his wife, and nothing occurring between them—I understood he was a great deal away from his wife on business—he was away in the daytime, and I assume he was away sometimes at nights—I am talking of the deceased—I wish I could put before your mind the picture I have in mine—no one thing comes before my mind more prominently than another—I can only sum it up by saying that their general bearing to one another was assexual—I have observed the effect of mesmerism sometimes—I cannot say I have made a study of it; I do not know that vital force is supposed to go out from one person to another—I have read no books on mesmerism; I have looked at Depotes on mesmerism, I know what mesmerists suppose themselves able to do—I have not read Braid on magnetism—I believe odic force is supposed to go from one person to another without contact in the act of mesmerism—it was not a symptom of insanity, this man supposing the force proceeded from his wife to him; I don't say he was insane—I should at one time—I suspected him of insanity, chiefly on mesmeric grounds, there were two mesmeric incidents—these notes were made on the 9th February—"February 9th, 1886. Memo of conversation with Mr. Bartlett deceased, and Mrs. Bartlett, held about 10 p.m., most probably on the 26th December, 1885. Having occasion to sit some hours with my patient we conversed, and by accident the word 'mesmerism' was mentioned. Deceased became all alert at once and asked me if I could mesmerise. I told him I had never tried, and did not mean to, giving as my reason my opinion that no medical man should seek to become a mesmerise. But he again asked me to make the experiment on him, and I declined. He said 'Do you understand much about 'mesmerism'? I told him that I had frequently watched the effects of skilled mesmerists, and had applied scientific tests, and was interested enough in it to give some study to the psychological problems involved. He said 'Can you tell me whether I am under mesmeric control' (I think he used some such word) 'at the present moment?' Smiling, I said 'Do you think you are?' He answered 'Yes, I do,' and proceeded to explain: 'Last summer a friend who could mesmerize visited us, and I asked him on several occasions to mesmerise me, but he always refused. Now, why do you think he refused?' I told Mr. Bartlett I could not guess. 'Well,' said Mr. Bartlett, 'I think he must have done it then or on some subsequent occasion.' Then Mrs. Bartlett broke in, 'Oh Edwin, how absurd you are. He does get such strange ideas into his head nowadays, doctor.' He continued without interrogation, 'I think he mesmerised me through my wife, is that a possibility?' I said I did not know, but that the subject was very amusing, would he tell me some more about it, especially the symptons that led him to a so extraordinary belief? With some pressing I got this reply, 'Well, I am doing such absurd things, things against my common sense, in fact both my wife and I are doing so.' 'What kind of absurd things are you both doing?' I asked. His only reply was that they were doing things that were unusual and contrary to common sense. During this conversation he had emerged from his usual reserve and was speaking with an unaccustomed vigour and excitement and I was growing anxious about his night's rest, but thinking I had perhaps to do with one of the phases of insanity, and was on the point of getting a key to his peculiar nervous temperament, I decided to push my enquiry.

'Mr. Bartlett,' I said, 'if my brother medicos were to hear us they would think Mrs. Bartlett the only sane person among us three; but I do not depise ideas because they are contrary to my everyday experience. Pray tell me more about yours, especially about the nature of the things your mysterious friend makes you do.' Here Mrs. Bartlett interposed remarks calculated to turn the conversation. She said it was all ridiculous nonsense he was talking. But persisting in trying to find my key, I obtained her permission to continue the conversation 'au grand serieux'! 'Do you ever hear voices telling you to do this or that, Mr. Bartlett?' 'Oh no,' he said, and I regarded his reply as one of considerable importance. 'Do you ever converse with your magician when he is not near you?' Again he said decidedly 'No,' giving his reply in a manner to relieve my mind, in a medical sense, of some anxiety. But he persisted that he was under a mesmeric influence and asked if I knew of no method for discovering the truth of the matter, and I promised him that if he would fully describe to me his feelings and the grounds for his suppositions I, in return, would consult a very high authority in mesmeric phenomena concerning the case. I said 'How long did the influence last, I mean how long did you continue to do strange things?' He replied' I am still doing them.' I said' But what are they?' He answered, hesitating. 'Well, perhaps I should not be here if it were not for the influence' (I think he used the word). 'Where would you be?' He said, 'Elsewhere, perhaps at the sea-side, perhaps abroad.' Then a suspicion flashed across my mind, and I said, 'Does your mesmeric friend control you in your city purchases? Make you spend your money differently to your ordinary notions? Has he ever implanted you with a fixed idea to sign any cheque, or draft, or endorse anything?' To all these questions he replied in a manner to indicate that I was very wide of the mark, and persisted that he only felt impelled to do 'queer things,' saying 'I am acting in a way different to what I should do if I were not mesmerised, and that is all.' Then the idea struck me that he might really be in terror of somebody who had acquired ascendency over him, so I asked, 'Do you feel a sinking or depression when you hear him coming, or do you shudder when he approaches?' 'No, not at all, I like him.' Then, despairing of making head or tail out of my patient's mental condition, I put my last query. 'Do you feel positive that your supposed friend is really a friend and not trying to work out his own ends through hit influence with you—mesmeric or otherwise?' He said he was sure this was not the case. I appealed to Mrs. Bartlett for her opinion and she said: 'Edwin and he are the best of friends and he is a true friend to both of us.' I repeated the question to her in private and received the same reply. As a sequel to keep faith with my patient I put the case at his request to a distinguished student of things mystical and asked the latter if he believed it to be within the bounds of infinite possibility that any dominant idea could be made obscess a man in Mr. Bartlett's state, and if not, how could I best conjure him into his right senses again. At a subsequent visit I assured Mr. Bartlett that his delusions had been very carefully thought over, and that they were delusions I proved to him in argument. He was convinced then, and a few days later assured me that he was thoroughly of my opinion. I may add that I remember these events so accurately by reason of my being permitted to discuss them

at the time with my occult acquaintance."—I know some people out of the asylums think they are very much under the influence of others—some mesmerists claim to be able to influence people, although they are miles away, that is a common belief among them—when I was first called in to Claverton Street I thought Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett had been recently married—all this petting, &c., would lead to that conclusion—I did not at that time suppose there was anything like brother and sister in their acquaintance, but going back now in my recollection to that day on which I thought they were recently married, I still do not hesitate to say that after all it is quite possible that was an assexual relation—I saw them remain on the same terms the whole time I visited them—besides the mesmerism Mr. Bartlett had the delusion of a worm in his throat, I can call no other to mind—he had no hallucinations—hallucination is a deception of the senses and delusion, one of the intellect—hallucination is the case of a man seeing a ghost or a man that has delirium tremens—there was no danger from the necrosis that I could see—I did not alarm my patient in any way about that necrosis.

By the COURT. I said to Mrs. Bartlett that evidently under that fungoid growth necrosis was setting in, and we must have dental advice about it at once, because it was spreading to the canine tooth, and that was taken out the last day he went—I told her he must have a tooth out if the dentist advised it, because she had rather wished him to have no more teeth out—danger to his life was not ever in question—I said nothing about what necrosis might end in, the word "alarming" has given rise to some misunderstanding—I never in all my conversations with her encouraged the idea that he could not recover; on the contrary, I always said it was nonsense for him to say he would not—I should think I saw Dyson there perhaps three times—it struck me that he was on very intimate terms there, and that they spoke a good deal of him when he was absent—I heard an individual frequently mentioned as Georgius Rex, and I have reason to know that was how they alluded to him—when he and I were present he was addressed as Mr. Dyson—I never heard him called by either of them by his Christian name in his presence, and he never called either of them by theirs—when I went into the room on 1st January I noticed the fire was not a large one, my recollection of it was that it would not have influenced the temperature of the room to any extent—there were ashes and cinders, and it may have been piled on each side of it, and a large piece on the top—there was nothing that called my special attention to it.

By the JURY. I am not sure whether if chloroform had been in the glass I should have detected it, I did not detect any—I think brandy dissolves very little chloroform; had there been a large quantity I should have seen it, though I am not quite sure whether I should have smelt it, I have such an objection to the smell of brandy—I don't know what a fire looks like when it is freshly made up—it did not strike me that this fire had been freshly stirred—chloroform passing over mucous membrane leaves very little trace, and I don't think if it had been poured down his throat there would have been signs afterwards, there would be no inflammation—if it were spilt on the face and left some time it would blister, it may produce a little soreness of the epithelium, I cannot say how long it would last, but a chloroform blister is a difficult thing to raise, you would have to leave the chloroform for some time in contact with the skin—it is a common way of administering chloroform to put a handkerchief in a

glass and sprinkle chloroform on it, but spilling chloroform from the glass on to the chin would not produce a sore, it would have to be repeatedly spilt—people who administer chloroform smear their lips and cheeks with grease, I do myself to save any chafing which might produce a sore, but I have never seen it; I use it in a subjective sense—if chloroform is put on the chin and not covered up it leaves a certain mark, which you can see in a certain light—I could perceive it in a certain light, it is not obvious, you have to look for it, I don't know how soon it goes out, I have made an experiment on myself, but I forgot to see, the end of it; if chloroform is kept confined and kept touching the skin it would make a bad blister.

By the JURY. I saw a small bottle inverted in the tumbler—I did not examine that bottle or smell it—I was accustomed to see a small tumbler of Condy's fluid there, and I took it, to be that, it always stood by his side—I thought the bottle had contained the draught had on the 18th, the bottle had no label—chloroform poured into the mouth would make the gums feel very painful—if left there for some time it would certainly leave a trace, a blister or a sore, the same condition, that was found in the stomach; I did not find any trace—the mouth was examined and there was no trace, but the post-mortem will tell you more accurately than I can.

  JOHN GARDNER DUDLEY . My address is 71, Belgrave Road—I am a registered medical practioner—I am a Doctor of Medicine of the University of Cambridge, and Member of the College of Physicians, London—I was called in to see Mr. Bartlett at Claverton Street on 19th December; Mr. Leach called me in, and in conjunction with him I examined Mr. Bartlett—I was there with him about 25 or 30 minutes—Dr. Leach communicated to me what Mr. Bartlett was suffering from, and then I found out for myself what his ailments were—I saw the condition of the gums, they were spongy and inflamed—I did not notice any line on the gums or on the margin—he had a very depressed appearance, he seemed wanting in energy—he was lying in an easy posture, apparently free from pain—he told me he required rest; he had been overworked mentally and bodily—that he was very sleepless, and had not slept well for a considerable time, and scarcely at all the last few nights—I examined him to find out whether he was suffering from any disease—I could find no sign of disease whatever, the organs all seemed quite healthy—I told him my opinion that he was a sound man; he made no reply—I told him he ought to sit up and go out for a walk or a drive daily—I prescribed for him a sedative and a tonic—there if nothing else that I think it necessary to say with regard to my examination of him—I only saw him on that one occasion—Mrs. Bartlett was present throughout the interview, and replied to several questions I put to her; she took part in the conversation—I asked her some questions; they were, I think, with regard to his previous health and his habits—the answers were all favourable; the habits were temperate, and the general health had been previously good—I heard afterwards of his death, and on 2nd January I attended the post-mortem—there was no natural cause, from the appearance of the various organs, to account for death—in the stomach there was an erosion, a part where the mucous membrane was destroyed, in the most dependent part of the stomach; the portion that was lowest near the spinal column, the lowest part when a person is lying down—that would

be occasioned by some noxious agent remaining in contact with it, an irritant; liquid chloroform would very likely account for it—the blood was very fluid; if death had been caused by chloroform that would cause the blood to be fluid—I smelt the stomach itself when it was opened; it smelt very strongly of chloroform, or a combination of chloroform and garlic—the whole contents of the stomach were placed in a clean glass-stoppered bottle in my presence, and sealed with my seal—I smelt the intestines; they had the same smell, but in a less degree—the contents of the intestines were pat into another jar and sealed; the stomach itself was put into another jar and sealed up—both were put into separate bottles—there was a fourth bottle with some chutnee; the chutnee was found in the room; some was placed in a bottle which was found at the post-mortem—that was put into a bottle and sealed, so that it might be examined as well—I do not believe the jars were numbered, I have no recollection that they were—after they had been sealed up these four were put in the front room; the post-mortem was made in the back room—after the post-mortem it was arranged that Dr. Leach should announce the result of it to Mrs. Bartlett; we deputed that he should do so, as he was present—Mr. Bartlett senior, the father, was present at the time, and Mr. Wood, the solicitor, and Mr. Dyson—the announcement was made in the front room—it was to the effect that we found no natural cause of death, but that there were suspicious appearances in the stomach, and with regard to the appearance of the stomach itself, and that it would be necessary to make the Coroner acquainted with the fact—I do not remember that there was anything said to that by any one.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. When I went to see Mr. Bartlett on the 19th he presented a depressed mental appearance—he seemed disinclined to change his posture, or even to raise his eyelids—he looked at me through half-closed lids—he told me he had been overworked mentally and bodily, and that for some time he had suffered from sleeplessness—his wife seemed very nervous and anxious about him; she seemed very attentive to him—I was an absolute stranger to them both.

  MONTAGUE MURRAY . I hold the degree of M D. of London; I am also assistant physician at Charing Cross Hospital—on the 2nd of January last I attended at the post-mortem examination at 85, Claverton Street, with Dr. Green, on the body of Mr. Bartlett—Mr. Leach, Mr. Cheyne, and Dr. Dudley were also present—we began about half-past two—I did the operative part—Dr. Green watched the operations and dictated the notes, and Dr. Leach took them down—I checked to some extent the operations as they were described; if there was any doubt we discussed it as we went on—the general condition of the body was exceedingly well nourished—the heart was the first thing we came to; the size was normal, and was healthy; the muscular tissue was perhaps a trifle flabby; the lining membrane was deeply stained, and the blood in the heart was fluid; those conditions were abnormal, considering the length of time which had elapsed since the death—the fluid condition of the blood, and the excessive staining of the lining membrane, were not quite what one would have expected from health—I did not discover anything in the condition of the organs of the body to account for the death, except so far as the contents of the stomach were concerned—apart from the contents and the condition of the stomach there was nothing whatever in the state of the organs to account for death—I took out the stomach and the intestines

—I heard Dr. Dudley's evidence just now; I concur in his account of the way in which the proceedings took place—I noticed with regard to the contents of the stomach that there was a small amount, about an ounce, of a dark brown fluid, with a few small lumps of solid matter in it, and it smelt very strongly of chloroform—the intestines also slightly smelt of chloroform; the smell was much more disguised because other things were mixed with it—I noticed what has been described as the dependent part of the stomach; there was an inflammatory blush over the whole of the cardiac end of the stomach, in the end described as the most dependent part, in area about an inch and a half in diameter—the mucous membrane was rather softer than the other parts, and a little roughened and irregular—it is difficult to give the exact size of the patch because it had faded off, it had no exact margin—the inch and a half in diameter was in the dependent part of the stomach, the part lowest down when a person is lying on his back—the appearance there showed that there was an inflammatory blush, and the mucous membrane was roughened, slightly softened, land a little worn away, thinned—that condition of things suggested the action of a mild irritant poison—where death results from causes other than poison that would not be a natural place to expect ulceration or inflammatory condition of that kind—when ulceration occurs it usually occurs near the other end of the stomach, and at the upper rather than at the lower part, but not invariably so—probably that would be the part of the stomach through which its fluid contents would naturally gravitate if a person were tying on his back—if a man were lying on his face I should not expect it would gravitate to the same part—that kind of inflammation of the tissues could not take place after death had occurred; the inflammatory blush must have taken place while life continued—I should not be certain about the thinning of the portion of the tissue—the other must have been produced while in life I think—at the place I have mentioned, at the most dependent part, the mucous membrane was a little softer than natural; it could have been stripped off with the finger more easily—I think those signs taken together must have happened before death, but I am not prepared to say that any one of the others could not have been—leaving out the inflammatory blush, the softening and slight thinning, I do not think they were post-mortem, but I do not feel quite sure—I think they were more likely ante-mortem than post-mortem—supposing the appearances I saw were the result of swallowing chloroform, I am not able to form any opinion what period of time must have elapsed between the swallowing and the death, and to give time for these appearances to be caused—an hour certainly would be time enough; I could not give the limit of the smallest time—I mean an hour between the swallowing and the death would be sufficient to produce the condition of the stomach—I mean an hour of life after swallowing—I cannot tell how much less it would be—I saw the stomach as late as last night; Dr. Stevenson showed it to me—I think I have nothing to add as the result of what I saw last night—I examined the gullet last night; the lower part of the gullet was in the same condition as the neighbouring part of the stomach; the part of the gullet next the stomach—that had an inflammatory blush just in the same way, and was a little roughened, I suppose the lower three inches or so of the gullet—that portion which comes nearer to the stomach, it adjoins on to it, opens into it—at the post-mortem I examined the lower jaw and found a patch

where it was becoming necrosed—there was not anything serious or dangerous about that.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I made the examination of the gullet and jaw at the post-mortem, and I saw them together again last night—all that indicated was that the irritant, whatever it was, had been taken through the gullet—speaking of the redness, that would show that at the time the liquid passed down the throat the body might have been erect—I should say it would show after it was taken for the greater portion of the time that life lasted, it was in that position—there are, I believe, extraordinary varieties with regard to the cause of death by liquid chloroform, both as to the quantity producing death, and also as to the survival after the dose, but I have no special knowledge myself upon that subject.

By the JURY. Supposing the deceased was insensible, the administration of chloroform would have to be done very gradually to pour it down the throat—it would take some little time to do it—you could not do it suddenly if the person was insensible—different methods might be employed; there might be a tube employed, but I could not say the time it would take—if the person was insensible a portion might be poured down gradually—it would necessarily leave some mark on the tongue; it need not last so long as 2 or 3 minutes—I do not think it would leave more marks in that way than if a person took it up and drank it up quickly—it must depend in some degree on the insensibility as to how long the operation must necessarily take of pouring down anything which would be a fatal dose of chloroform—I could not say definitely how long it would take—it would not be more than two or three minutes.

By MR. CLARKE. I have no knowledge of such a case ever happening of liquid chloroform being poured down the throat of an insensible person—I have never heard of such a case.

By the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. If the insensibility was profound there would be no difficulty, that I can see, in pouring it down the throat—I know of no physical difficulty in doing it if the person down whose throat it was sought to pour it was in a state of insensibility.

By the COURT. Swallowing is rather a muscular action; they would have to take some mechanical means to get it down, because the parts would collapse—there would have to be a tube—supposing there was a tube, the greater part would remain in the mouth, and some might trickle down inside the gullet—insensibility would prevent the swallowing—there might be an insensibility so profound that the person operated upon might swallow without resistance, and yet so little profound that the muscular action would not be paralysed—the touch of the liquid would excite the involuntary act of swallowing; it would apply to such a case as that, and to such a condition as that.

By MR. CLARKE. The test by which a medical man would be able to ascertain that the particular stage had been reached where reflex action of the muscles continued, but yet that there was insensibility which would prevent the burning, and so on, would be by the presence of reflex in other parts—he would test it by touching the eye, and there would be a closure of the eyelid; that would show that reflexes were present—he would separate the eyelids, and just touch the conjunctiva, the white membrane of the eye; then the lids would immediately contract, supposing reflex was not carried any further—if, on touching, the eyelids contracted, he would then know that there was some reflex action

existing which might render the act of swallowing instinctive—he would know there was insensibility to pain by the reflex of the muscles, and by the abolition of the reflex—I mean sufficient abolition to perform an operation—the medical man would judge there was insensibility to pain from the laxity of the limbs, also from the relaxation of the muscles, and from the abolition of the reflex action—it would depend to some extent upon the nature of the operation whether the physician intending to do anything to the patient which would involve pain, and with the view to which the insensibility was to be produced, he would not do it until he found the reflex action had stopped—in some operations more profound insensibility has to be produced than in others—there are some cases in which chloroform is used in which it is not desired to produce complete anesthesia—there are some cases where it is desired to use it to deaden the pain; it is not desired to obtain a condition of absolute insensibility—in the class of cases in which it is not desired to produce complete anesthesia, only to deaden the pain, the physician has to exercise his own judgment as to whether the moment has come in which there is sufficient insensibility to produce anesthesia, yet not the entire abolition of the reflex action—some reflexes disappear before others; they do not all disappear at the same time—supposing anesthesia to be carried to the extent of destroying the sense of pain, the reflex action may then entirely disappear—it is a question one is familiar with, the loss of certain reflexes—one judges practically by this conjunctive reflex—one knows practically if that is gone the patient will not feel pain, and you judge also by the muscular relaxation—the physician judges by that test—I am not prepared to say that at that moment there is no reflex which can be obtained, I am not prepared to give an opinion.

By the COURT. In operations where chloroform is administered it is sometimes necessary to give brandy or something of that sort whilst the operation is going on, but it is not given by the mouth easily under that condition; by injection it is.

  JOHN RALPH . I am an officer in the Metropolitan Police Force—I am the Coroner's officer—on the 4th January the Coroner who held the inquest was Mr. Braxton Hicks, and in consequence of what he told me I went to No. 85, Claverton Street—I went there about half-past 9 at night—I went into the front room and found there four glass vessels—they were covered over with brown paper and string tied round them, and they were sealed—the seals were the initials of Dr. Dudley: J. G. D.—I took possession, at the same time, of 36 medicine bottles—some of them were in the front room; they were not corked—I corked them and sealed them up—I then placed the four glass vessels and the medicine bottles in two separate hampers and took them to the mortuary, that is, 20, Millbank Street—I there placed them in a large safe under cover in the back yard—there was no lock to the place—I put a tape across it and sealed it up—I sealed up the place where I had put these hampers—on the 9th January I went there and found the tape in the same condition—on the 11th I took the things away—on the 9th I had been to Claverton Street—I took with me a glass jar into the ante-room—Mr. Doggett, jun., who has been examined, gave me a tumbler—it appeared to contain Condy's Fluid—there was a small glass bottle; it was inverted in the tumbler, open, without any cork in it, with the mouth downwards—as I was moving it into the glass jar I took with

me it broke, and the whole of the glass and the contents and the broken tumbler and its contents went into the glass jar—then it was fastened up and sealed with Mr. Doggett's seal, and I took it to the mortuary and put it with the other things—the little bottle that was inverted remained in the glass jar with the contents of the tumbler and the broken pieces—it was a little tumbler like that (produced)—I fastened up the mortuary again, and on the 11th I took all the things to Dr. Stevenson, at Guy's Hospital—he gave me a receipt for the things—that is the receipt (produced): "Received the following articles: sealed paper package"—I did not see the contents of it at that time; indeed, I have not seen it since—it was sent to me by Dr. Leach—I got that from Dr. Leach on the 9th—I put the whole into a glass jar—the sealed bottle containing a tumbler with the broken pieces were put in the same bottle as the Condy's Fluid—I gave them to Dr. Stevenson personally, and he gave me that receipt—it is described there as a sealed bottle of Condy's Fluid; that was a separate bottle—I took that out of the front room at Claverton Street—after I had given these things to Dr. Stevenson I went in the afternoon to Claverton Street again—I met Inspector Marshall there by appointment—Mrs. Bartlett was not in the first-floor front room—Mr. wood, the solicitor, was there—I searched seven boxes; they were in the front room, on the floor—in one of the boxes I found two glass bottles—this was on Monday, the 11th—one was like a scent-bottle, with a silver top on one of them—there seemed to be some white powder in it—the other bottle was smaller—I also found in another box a small wooden box containing white powder—I sealed these three things up and handed them to Dr. Stevenson, on Saturday, the 17th—there was a tin box in the front room—Dr. Stevenson had these two bottles and the box on Saturday, the 11th—the tin box was in the front room; that contained a man's suit of light clothing—I examined these clothes, and in the right-hand trousers pocket I found about four or five French letters, I mean things that are popularly called French letters—I did not take possession of them—I left the clothes in the box and the things in the pocket—I also found in one of the boxes the letter that has been produced here, addressed "Dear Edwin," and signed "George"—I suppose it was in Mrs. Bartlett's box; they were all there together—I examined all the things; there were some gentleman's clothes and some lady's clothes mixed in the boxes—I saw also on the table in the front room this "Squire's Companion"—I know the book: that is the same (produced)—it was in the same state in which it is now—it is" Companion to the British Pharmacopoeia, "comparing the strength of various preparations, and so on—I did not go with Inspector Marshall to Wandsworth Common.

DR. DUDLEY (Re-examined). The contents of the stomach were put into a bottle, of which we could find no cork; it was an open, unstoppered bottle—that remained in the bottle about half an hour—I then got another bottle from the chemist's; it was properly stoppered with a glass stopper—I transferred the contents from the unstoppered open bottle into the other one—chloroform is very volatile.

  DR. THOMAS STEVENSON . I am a doctor of medicine and practice as a consulting physician—I am also Professor of Medical Jurisprudence at Guy's, and one of the analysts usually employed by the Home Office—I recollect receiving from the last witness, Ralph, a number of bottles and packages, which he has described with substantial correctness—

there were eight packages on the 11th January, and on the 16th January there was one sealed packet containing three enclosures, of what I received on the 11th—No. 1 was a paper package, containing the lower jaw of an adult, with the tongue and the soft parts adjacent to the tongue and jaw—No. 2 was a glass jar containing a thick semi-fluid mass, measuring about a quarter of a pint, the contents of the small bowel—No. 3 was a jar containing a human stomach, that of an adult—No. 4 was a bottle containing mango relish—No. 5 was a four-ounce glass-stoppered bottle containing half an ounce or a tablespoonful of thick fluid, apparently the contents of a stomach—the three important ones are: No. 2, the contents of the smaller bowel; No. 3, the stomach; and No. 5, the bottle containing the half-ounce or tablespoonful of semi-fluid matter; No. 6 was a glass jar, sealed, containing some Condy's Fluid, and a 1 1/2 oz. medicine bottle; No. 7 was a brandy bottle, sealed, containing some fluid; No. 8, a hamper, sealed, containing altogether some 36 bottles of various kinds used for medicinal purposes—on the 16th I received one packet, containing a small toilet Box, which contained toilet powder and a pepper-castor; No. 3 contained some Santo nine, a medicine given for worms; I commenced my analysis on the 12th January; I began by opening the stoppered bottle, No. 5, which contained a tablespoonful or half an ounce of thick semi-fluid matter, which came from the stomach—the characteristic smell of the contents was that of chloroform, very strong—there was also a slight garlicky odor, the cause of which was the mango relish—although I opened it then with a view to beginning my analysis, I did not in fact begin it until the 13th—I smelt it, and then I stopped—it was slightly acid—I proceeded to test its component parts by analysis, and in the result I found the presence of chloroform, of which I estimated the quantity, which was 11 1/4 grains—I produce here the same quantity, which I have cleared and placed in a tube (producing same)—11 1/4 grains are equivalent to between 8 and 9 minims—that represented approximately 5 per cent, of the weight of the entire quantity that I analyzed, about a twentieth part; there was also a very small trace of alcohol in it, and I tested it for the possible trace of all the poisons that suggested themselves to me, prosaic acid, morphia, &c.—I found no other trace of any alkaloid—it contained no chloral—if the system be made alkaline chloral decomposes in the stomach by the usual carbonate of soda; it will become chloroformed—my analysis extended over several days—the next thing in order that I took was No. 2, the contents of the smaller bowel, about a quarter of a pint—the bottle was only loosely stoppered; it had been tightened by by means of brown paper—chloroform is a very volatile substance, and if a vessel in which it is contained either by itself or in combination with any other substance is not hermetically sealed, it would gradually evaporate—the result of my examination of No. 2 was that I found traces of chloroform—there was three-tenths of a grain—I also tested the chutnee; I found that was free from any poisonous matter—No. 3 contained the stomach of an adult—I could not perceive any special smell of bolero form from that—the stomach had already been cut open—it was in a good state of preservation—it was inflamed—the cardiac or first end of the stomach next the gullet, the center of the patch of inflammation, showed over an area of about 1 1/2 inches in diameter more intense inflammation; the epitherial or lining membrane was

detached and softened, giving a certain amount of roughness to the inner surface of the stomach—that appearance of inflammation extended to the gullet; round the patch of inflammation of which I have spoken the redness extended to a patch almost as large as my two hands, and so reached about three inches into the gullet—the inflammation was acute and recent, that is to say, it had commenced to run its course within a few hours of death—the position of the patch in the stomach was about the part to which liquid would flow when a person was lying on his back—it was the usual spot at which it is found after a person has swallowed irritant poison; that might have been occasioned by swallowing chloroform; I found no other probable cause for it—the presence of chloroform was an adequate cause, and no other cause existed so far as I could ascertain—I tested the contents of the stomach for the purpose of tracing every poison that could suggest itself to me, and found none—I found some trace of copper and lead in the gums—the gum was in No. 1—I found a small piece of necrosis—it is usual to find traces of copper in a healthy subject—there was not much copper and lead found—from one half of the gum and the whole of the son parts approximately the amount of copper and lead together was not more than one-eighth of a grain, which I do not think is a matter of any consequence worth dwelling upon—the presence of traces of lead and copper in the system is accounted for by the fact that breads and a vast number of vegetables, contain traces of copper, and through the using of copper utensils, and having articles of copper about the person—a piece of brass, the handling of brass or metals of various metallic alloys, these would find their way into the system so as to show traces; but the traces of lead and copper are, I think, mostly through the small quantity thereof taken in the food occasionally—lead is less commonly found than copper—it is a well-known substance, from leaden pipes containing drinking water, and things of that kind—they were only minute traces that I found, and I attribute no importance to them—they would not account for the death of a person—No. 6 was Condy's fluid—I found nothing in that—No. 7 was a broken tumbler and a jar—I found in the tumbler a little sulphate of magnesia, Epsom salts—the hamper contained 36 bottles—there were poisons, but only in medicinal doses—chloroform is not cumulative—in ordinary doses it will disappear from the system very quickly—the result of the analysis was the presence of chloroform in the contents of the stomach and the intestines—I did not analyze the stomach itself for chloroform, nor the blood, I had none—the deceased must have swallowed a large dose of chloroform, enough to produce serious inflammation of the stomach; and such a quantity would, I believe, be sufficient to cause death—I found nothing to suggest any other cause of death than chloroform—if chloroform is swallowed it sometimes produces a state of intoxication, but not always—it then produces insensibility, stertorous breathing, or loud snoring breathing, muscular relaxation, paralysis, and death—the immediate effect is paralysis of the heart—it passes into the blood, and thence into every organ of the system—it produces fluidity of the blood after death, which remains fluid for a long time—if the contents of the stomach were put into an open jar, and remained some time before being put into a stoppered bottle, the chloroform would evaporate, but some would remain—the quantity would be diminished, but some might settle down

to the bottom and be unobserved—I tested that, and found that they lost their smell very greatly in an hour, by exposure—the deceased died on January 1st, and the post-mortem was on the 2nd at 2 p.m., and my analysis began on the 13th—there would not have been an evaporation from the bottle in the interim, but there might be a disappearance of chloroform from the stomach while the body was lying before the post-mortem, what we call diffusion, but none from the closely stoppered bottle; I mean wherever the air was kept out—I do not think there would be any indication in the brain of chloroform swallowed, there might or might not be—I have frequently examined bodies where there has been no obvious smell of chloroform in the brain and no unusual appearance in the heart, and found nothing to indicate that death had occurred from chloroform, but these were cases of death from inhalation, not taken internally—even if from inhalation I should not necessarily expect to find it in the brain; my observation is that oftener than not you find nothing in the brain to indicate the cause of death, I mean short of analysis of the brain—I have analyzed and found traces, in cases of inhalation—it is difficult to say whether it passes more rapidly into the blood by inhalation than by swallowing; inhalation is the most rapid means of introducing gaseous poisons into the blood, but it would get there by other means—if swallowed I should expect to find it in the brain by analysis, but no obvious odor, there might or might not be—if a person accidentally took a dose of chloroform sufficient to cause death, being at the time in the possession of sensibility and faculties, he would at once perceive the peculiar character of the liquid he had swallowed; it would produce pain and a hot fiery taste—I do not think he could take a fatal dose of chloroform and suppose he was taking some innocent thing, it has not the taste of any article of food or drink—I have swallowed it, and I have had it in my mouth several times; it is very hot and very sweet and burning—you can put liquids down the throat of a person who is moderately under the influence of inhaled chloroform—assuming the liquid is in some such ordinary medicine bottle as this (produced) there would be no insuperable difficulty in putting it down the throat of a person in a state of insensibility—I have put liquid down the throat of a person while I have been chloroforming them by passing it to the back of their throat with a tea spoon—there would be no difficulty if a man was lying on his back with his mouth open—assuming that it could be put into his mouth, its presence there would occasion the act of swallowing, up to a certain point of insensibility—what we understand by reflexes would not be swallowing; that means that such a stimulant as chloroform at the back part would not excite muscular action, because the nervous centers which are concerned in swallowing would be paralyzed beyond a certain point; in other words, swallowing might be effected up to the point of paralysis—I tried the effect of chloroform in my mouth; it had a hot, burning, sweet sensation, quite transient, and after I ejected it it passed away, leaving a little numbness on my tongue, but not sufficient to prevent my going about my usual avocations, and there was a blush, a little redness, which passed off quickly—since the hearing before the Magistrate I have repeated an experiment which I had made before on a rabbit, to see whether chloroform passed into the Wood from the stomach—I introduced into its stomach by means of a

tube, a quarter of a fluid ounce, or two teaspoonfuls of chloroform; the animal was upwards of two hours in a dying condition, and at the end of three hours it was nearly dead, but the blood was still circulating; I cut its throat, collected the blood which flowed, analysed it, and found that it contained traces of chloroform; you never get more than traces in the blood, but it was quite obvious—I also extracted the stomach, upon which the effect was acute inflammation, the mucous membrane softened and partly removed, so as to give it a roughened appearance, and blood was effused into its coats, and chloroform was obviously present in the stomach also—the animal rolled about at first as if intoxicated—I have seen one person under the influence of chloroform swallowed—the effect is chiefly sickness, pain, and the patient is very much alarmed—the case was many years ago, and I do not remember that it produced absolute insensibility; that was not a fatal dose—when swallowed, vomiting is a frequent accompaniment, but not always—I have seen a great number of persons under the influence of chloroform through inhalation—it is possible to produce insensibility by inhalation during sleep—I have never done it, but I know many instances in which it has been done, and I have no doubt whatever that it can be done if a person is soundly asleep, giving it with a bottle or handkerchief—the appearances in the stomach which I attribute to the action of chloroform must have been produced before death, the action is a vital action—these appearances might be produced in an hour or longer—I showed the bottle containing contents of the stomach to Dr. Tidy, and a small quantity which remained, and I showed Dr. Murray the stomach—if in the attempt to put chloroform down the throat of a person in a state of insensibility or partial torpor, any of it fell on the chin, breast, or throat, there might be indications of it, but it is unusual for momentary contact to produce any visible effect; there might be a temporary redness, which would pass away, as in the case which I was illustrating on myself.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I have for many years given my attention to subjects of this class, and have had large experience in the administration of chloroform at Guy's Hospital; I have also studied the results of the experience of other doctors—I have edited "The Principles and Practice of Medical Jurisprudence, by Dr. Alfred Swain Taylor," who is well known as one of the greatest authorities in that branch of medical science—I edited, reproduced, and corrected it, and I believe I called it the leading journal on the subject—it is fairly complete, I think—the last edition under my editorship appeared in 1883—chloroform has possibly been used in this country as an anesthetics for almost 40 years—Dr. Morphy used it in 1847, and from the very first its characteristics have been the subject of great interest to the medical profession; and as to inhalation, its effects have been carefully studied and recorded, but as to swallowing it, I don't think attention has been drawn to it much till last July—it is recognized as an important agent in medical science, and there is a good deal of literature about its application, but chiefly by inhalation—I cannot refer you to any recorded case of murder by the administration of liquid chloroform, and I know of none—I am aware that there have been many murders by prussic acid, strychnine, and poisons of that class—the use of chloroform has been somewhat given up of late years, ether being substituted for it—chloroform will produce insensibility, but the time of insensibility and the amount, vary a good deal, but they have

some relation to each other—we sometimes find that a very small dose inhaled proves suddenly fatal, while a very large dose taken into the stomach does not produce death—I think this book is taken almost entirely, textually, from previous editions of Dr. Taylor's book—I don't think I added any fresh question—though published in 1883 I cannot say whether any case since 1870 is quoted—I think there has been only one fatal case of swallowing chloroform in this country recorded within the last twenty years, but I know of one not recorded which happened in the practice of a gentleman in this Court; that was a case of accident—I know of one death besides that in this country from swallowing chloroform by accident within the last twenty years; I cannot call to mind any others—there is in this Medical Record of July 11, an American publication, a table giving a record of known cases of swallowing chloroform up to July, 1885; I have since added some half-dozen—I think about 17 out of the 56 given in that list were fatal; about 31 per cent, of all the cases blown to me were fatal, 20 cases out of 65—this list is a collection of the cases occurring in different countries reported in books—I have verified some of them, and found them very fairly correct—in case 3 two mouthfuls were taken, death in 36 hours; case 4, a child of four years of age took from 1 to 2 dr., dead in three hours; case 7, 6 oz., dead in four hours; case 10, 1 1/2 oz., dead in 20 hours; case 13, a wineglassful, that would be about 2 1/2 oz., dead in eight days; case 15, a man of 20, who tried to disembowel himself and shot himself in the chest, and so on; case 16, 1 1/2 oz., dead in 23 1/2 hours; case 23, 1 oz., dead in 12 hours, and that has a note that that was a case of supposed chloroform poisoning, where the Coroner's Jury were unable to come to a decision as to the immediate cause of death; case 24, 5 to 9 dr., dead in eight days; case 25, 2 oz., "Seen in one hour; a few minutes before his death in three minutes estimated time he could with difficulty be roused from stupor into which he was sinking, he indicated severe pain in his stomach, in five minutes lying still breathing stertorously"—case 27,2 oz., dead in 9 hours; case 29, 90 grammes, that is rather over 2 oz., dead in 29 1/2 hours; case 39, 1 oz., 60 hours; case 43, 1 1/2 oz., 26 1/2 hours; case 48, 50 to 60 grammes, a little over 1 1/2 oz., 31 hours; "Seen in 4 hours, artificial respiration"—that indicates that there is a very great uncertainty as to what the action will be when chloroform is swallowed—it would make a great difference in the length of life in these cases, whether means of restoration were attempted, many of them were treated unsuccessfully; the treatment although unsuccessful would prolong life—some of the cases lived a long time and died from acute inflammation of the stomach and not by the direct effect of chloroform by producing paralysis of the heart—I have only had experience of one case of chloroform swallowing, that was probably 25 years ago—that was not a fatal case—swallowing brings a local irritant to act on the stomach—after inhalation you will not always observe the great fluidity of the blood, and one thing that follows that, and that is the post-mortem staining of the lining membrane of the heart—I don't think the condition of the internal coats of the stomach which I saw would be dependent on his condition previous to death, I mean the post-morten or pathological appearances—I don't think those appearances would be more obvious following on the taking of liquid chloroform by a man who had been recently suffering from acute or

sub-acute gastritis, if he had recovered from his sub-acute gastritis—if there were actual gastritis at the time he took it, it would be effected by the local irritant—excepting the stomach and blood, the effect from swallowing and inhalation would not be always the same in post-mortem examination, because the appearances after inhalation are very variable, there is often nothing unless you know the history of the case to lead you to suppose death occurred from chloroform—some appearances have been frequently observed where death has followed from inhalation; one would look for any indications, and with greater care for these that had been frequently observed—in cases of inhaling chloroform death takes place very suddenly, sometimes not from chloroform being by inhalation taken into the system, but from some action on the heart which is not quite determined; a patient may die in a few minutes after a few whiffs occasionally—you would not always expect to find distinct odour in the ventricles of the brain where chloroform has been inhaled just a short time before death; it has been observed—I am speaking from my own observations, and from these it is not one of the most prominent symptoms—I know Guy and Fender's book, it is one of substantial authority, and I should attach importance to any statement made in such a book (MR. CLARKE read the passage from Guy and Ferrier, page 150)—I presume that means in cases of asphyxia from chloroform—asphyxia generally arises from giving too much chloroform, and there you would expect to find the smell more prominent than when the patient died from a small quantity—I should certainly look for the odour in the cerebral ventricles if I were looking to find any post-mortem indications of chloroform having been inhaled. Q. Is engorgement of the right side of the heart a post-mortem appearance which you would expect to find after the patient had died after inhaling chloroform?—A. If death had occurred from asphyxia, and the heart were paralysed on the right side, it would not necessarily be engorged—if the patient were in a state of asphyxia and died from engorgement of the heart you would find possibly the right side of the heart engorged—if the patient were brought to the verge of asphyxia, a state of insensibility by the administration of chloroform, and then death suddenly, or almost suddenly, took place, from whatever cause, you would expect to find that engorgement of the right side of the heart; in all asphyxiated conditions you would expect to find it—I have made no special study of that engorgement of the right side of the heart—I dare say I have examined 34 cases. Q. And you found in 27 cases engorgement of the heart?—A. Probably you have got something I have written. Q. Yes, I have Taylor's book on poisons. A. It is a very well-known book, I had nothing to do with writing it—Dr. Snow is a great authority on chloroform—there may occasionally be intense inflammation of the air passages where there has been inhalation of chloroform (I have not myself observed that condition)—I think intense inflammation of the air passages is certainly not the ordinary result after death from inhalation—I don't agree with the passage in Guy and Ferrier (at page 544) with regard to that, for if that were the case, the patient would generally have acute bronchitis after it (MR. CLARKE read the passage from Guy and Ferrier)—I don't agree with that, as regards chloroform—I admit their authority; I don't admit that statement—I have come to a different judgment—the inhalation of chloroform affects the urine, so that if boiled with a solution of copper it reduces

the copper and turns the solution red—I had none of the urine sent to me for analysis—I have spoken of the possibility of administering chloroform to adults during sleep—I have not done it myself; I was speaking of records cases of adults the attempts to administer chloroform by inhalation during sleep does not almost invariably wake the man—in the longest number of experiments made by one individual, Dolbo, he found that three woke up to one that was chloroformed—I think Quinby and Elliott experimented on four and succeeded in chloroforming them all—Quinby was the American—and Hussey, the Coroner for Oxford, I think, did it 36 years ago—I know Winter Blyth's book on Poisons—reference to Dolbo is in the "Annals d' Hygiene, 1878" (MR. CLARKE translated this passage, which was to the effect that certain precautions were necessary to administer chloroform to sleeping persons, namely, a pure spirit, great skill; but that little children may be awakened from slumber by the irritation which the chloroform produces in the air passages; that it is certain that chloroform administered to sleeping persons may facilitate crime, but that the experts all declare it is not easy to render a person sleeping a victim. MR. CLARKE also read a passage from Winter Blyth—Wharton and Stillsby is an American work with which I am acquainted—I don't remember in that book a list of experiments with regard to endeavouring to give chloroform to sleeping persons; probably there would be one. (MR. CLARKE read a passage from Wharton and Stills by, at page 393, to the effect that chloroform very often produced resistance, producing irritation, sometimes a depressing feeling; vomiting from the stomach with a feeling of nausea when vomiting almost always followed, but sometimes did not; that he had experimented with chloroform on six sleeping persons, who had all resisted more or less; that one woke up and remarked, "You are trying to give me something;" that it required more chloroform to produce death in a recumbent than in an upright position, and that one man could not administer chloroform to another)—I know Quinby and others have experimented to try and settle the question, and Dolbo's experiments were taken up in consequence, I know—the most recent one Quinby refers to is a trial in 1871—it is a paper by Quinby, who I believe to be a person of repute, in the "Boston Medical Journal," June 17, 1880—another English autherity, who suggests the possibility of administering chloroform to a sleeping man without waking him, is Hussey, in the "Medical Times," July, 1880; he is a perfectly reliable person, and said chloroform was administered to a sleeping person in his presence at Oxford Infirmary, as far back as 1850—I have not got the record of the case with me; I think it was a young man of 16 or 17; I will try and procure it for to-morrow—I think the matter is mentioned in Woodman and Tidy's book. (MR. CLARKE read an extract, at page 525, to the effect that insensibility from chloroform vapor was only slowly induced, and that it would be difficult to administer it to persons forcibly against their will, but that it might be administered to persons asleep without much difficulty ("Lancet," October 5, 1872, page 514, and October 12, 1872,page 549), and that that seemed the only possible condition under which it could be conveniently used for improper purposes, unless considerable force were employed to prevent the person struggling. (MR. CLARKE also stated that he had looked at the numbers of the "Lancet" quoted and found they referred entirely to children)—I remember the name of Dr. Whitmarsh, of Hounslow. (MR. CLARKE read an extract from a note by Dr. Dobson, of Clifton, to the effect that the only precaution he found necessary in administering chloroform to children during

sleep to prevent than waking was to hold the inhaler at a distance from the child's face)—the possibility of administering chloroform during sleep is mentioned in Taylor's "Poisons," and it refers to Dolbo, the "Annals d'Hygiene"—I think the symptoms produced by swallowing chloroform pretty well correspond with these that follow inhalation. Q. You get symptoms of unconsciousness and paralysis intensified? A. I speak of symptoms that follow on swallowing chloroform; there is then inflammation of the stomach, but the general symptoms are not very greatly different—you must not believe all the cases in Taylor's "Jurisprudence," some of them are not on very good autherity—I have modified some of that chapter, from what has since come to my knowledge—absorption, when chloroform is taken into the stomach, is less rapid than when taken into the lungs—I should take it the symptoms would take longer to develop themselves, but when they do so they are very pronounced—the results of swallowing chloroform vary immensely in different cases—in inhalation there are four stages. (MR. CLARKE here read a passage from "Taylor on Poisons," page 649)—during the first stage, when the patient becomes excited, the passing of a quantity of chloroform over the lips and tongue and down the throat would cause severe pain and would be resented and would rouse the patient to resistance—I don't agree that that state of excitement would be necessary if a person were asleep—Dolbo, from his experience, says that three out of four persons awoke—the American autherity attempted it with six persons, who all awoke. Q. Then I have taken the case given by Dr. Tidy of the children being dealt with while asleep in the hospital, and I have read you the letter in which Dr. Dobson practically agrees with Dolbo? A. He says he avoided excitement by giving it during sleep—supposing the first stage of excitement to occur, if you put the liquid in the mouth the pain of administering the poison would be felt, and would be resented, and that would awake a person up—in the second stage he talks incoherently and sensibility is diminished, he is intoxicated but still capable of feeling pain, though to a less extent—in the third stage he is unconscious, but the muscles are rigid; in administering chloroform by inhalation at that third stage there is very often a good dual of rigidity in the limbs generally, so that at that stage it would probably require force to open the mouth; and in the fourth stage, when that rigidity passes away, the muscles become completely relaxed and the patient is perfectly insensible, ready for operation, and at that stage there is no capacity for swallowing at all—a patient on the operating table will continue to swallow when completely anesthetized—it is altogether a question of degree when the patient will cease to swallow—any liquid put at the back of the throat the patient will continue to swallow, he will swallow his own saliva for some time, by muscular action—when blood flows into the back of the throat it is swallowed, unless he is under chloroform very profoundly, when he ceases to swallow and becomes suffocated—there are cases of inhalation where the patient ceases to swallow—one of the dangers where an operation is performed and blood gets to the back of the throat is that blood will get into the air passages—he may get into such a state that he cannot swallow—there is a particular point in the process of chloroforming at which the patient will be able to swallow, although he is sufficiently under the influence of chloroform not to suffer from the pain. Q. Will you tell me how you yourself ascertained when

that time had arrived? A. I should not like to pour liquid down the throat if the reflex of the eye had been abolished—I would not like to commit myself to say there would ever be a point at which the reflex would ever be abolished—that is taken as the practical test, and it is the test that the doctor applies to ascertain if the sensation of pain has gone—a doctor assumes that until that reflex action is over pain is felt. Q. Suppose you had to deal with a sleeping man, and it was your object to get down his throat without his knowing it a liquid the administration of which to the lips and throat would cause great pain, do not you agree it would be a very difficult and delicate operation? A. I think it would be an operation which would often fail and might often succeed—I should look on it as a delicate operation because I should be afraid of pouring it down the windpipe—that is only one of the dangers I contemplate; if it got into the windpipe there would possibly not be a spasmodic action of the muscles; when there is insensibility, or partial insensibility, rejection of liquid by the windpipe would be probably less active than when the patient was awake—if the patient got into such a state of insensibility as not to reject it, probably some of it might go down his windpipe and burn that; if it did so I should expect to find traces after death, unless the patient lives for some hours—a great many post-mortem appearances are changed if the patient lives for some hours, not only by the chloroform disappearing, but other changes incidental to a post-mortem condition—if the post-mortem examination had been performed as Mrs. Bartlett wished it to be, on the very day on which death took place, there would have been still better opportunity of determining the, cause of death.

Friday and Saturday, April 16th and 11 th.

DR. STEVENSON (Re-examined by MR. CLARKE). I have the authority this morning which I promised yesterday to get, but the officer of the Court has locked up my bag, and so I cannot produce it at this moment—I remember perfectly well its contents, I read it last night.

Re-examined. Chloroform is very volatile—assuming it to have been taken into the mouth, and so to have gone down into the stomach, I would not expect to find necessarily any smell of it in the mouth—if the mouth were open the smell might disappear even within half an hour—I should expect that the effect of a dose of chloroform swallowed and taken into the stomach would be greater upon a person taking it if that person were rendered insensible or partially insensible by inhalation first, in the direction of causing paralysis of the action of the heart for instance—it would be a very delicate operation setting chloroform into the stomach of a person who was lying back and insensible or partially insensible; it would require to be delicately done in order to prevent its getting into the windpipe instead of the throat; with a person unskilled in the anatomy of the part some would be very likely to get down the windpipe instead of down the gullet—as a consequence of having taken chloroform the post-mortem appearances are sometimes these of asphyxia—chloroform would cause death in one way by producing asphyxia, and thus paralyzing the muscles of respiration, or else by paralyzing the muscles of the heart—the post-mortem symptoms are not quite the same in the two cases, but one thing with asphyxia need not be necessary, that there should be paralysis of the muscles of respiration; it really is suffocation—if the particular form which the mischief takes is suffocation.

I would expect to see on the post-mortem the signs of suffocation, and if the mischief results from paralysis of the heart I would not expect to see signs of suffocation—it sometimes happens that when persons are voluntarily drinking any liquid some of it may get down the windpipe or approach the windpipe, but that is a rare incident—I admit that, as Mr. Dolbean says, it is possible to render a person who sleeps sufficiently insensible by chloroform for that person to become the subject of a criminal attempt, and in certain cases the production of insensibility would be comparatively easily effected—there may be found traces of chloroform in the urine of a person who has died from an overdose; it would not be visible to the eye, and it is a little undetermined whether it is due to the presence of chloroform itself or to the chloroform producing some other substance in the urine—I had no portion of the urine furnished to me for analysis—the appearance of the urine would not suggest any change.

By the JURY. In one stage of chloroformism the jaws are rigid, or partially so, but the stages are purely arbitrary—an unskilled person must, generally speaking, take some little time to administer a sufficient quantity of chloroform down the throat to cause death; he must do it gradually for fear of choking, but in some cases I do not think it would be very difficult to do it quickly, it simply depends upon the act of swallowing—the chances are that some portion of the chloroform would remain in the mouth for a short time if the person were unable to swallow; it would be likely to remain at the back of the throat—it would then show some signs of its having been there in the gums or throat, in the (same way as it would if it lay in the intestines—if he were able to swallow easily it would be effected almost momentarily, in the same way as water—if a person could not swallow quickly it would remain at the upper part of the windpipe, and upon the post-mortem I should expect to find the effects of contact there, irritation or inflammation, but if taken suddenly I should not expect to find such traces.

By the COURT. In giving chloroform by inhalation, at a certain period and before the patient is altogether unconscious, there is often considerable general muscular rigidity; the arms would In rigid, and the patient would grind the teeth or clench the jaw—I have never seen chloroform administered during sleep; I should not expect the result to be the same—the period of rigidity may be a few seconds or a minute; if the patient is insensible it speedily passes off—I should think that in a case where there is unusual difficulty in putting a patient under the influence of nitrous oxide there would be the same difficulty in effectually administering chloroform; the difficulty in the one case would lead me to expect a difficulty in the other, but that is a pure matter of inference, I cannot say much about it, but generally speaking if a person is insensible to one anesthetic he would be likely to be less sensible to another.

  CHARLES MEYMOTT TIDY , B.M. I am Master in Surgery, Professor of Chemistry and Forensic Medicine at the London Hospital, and one of the official analysts to the Home Office—I am one of the authors of "Woodman and Tidy's Forensic Medicine and Toxicology," quoted yesterday by Mr. Clarke—I have had considerable experience in matters of this description, and have of my own knowledge known of a death from taking liquid chloroform—that was in 1863—it was referred to me by

Dr. Lancaster, who was Coroner at the time—so far as we could judge, the fatal dose was 1 1/2 ounces, but I am bound to say that the details are not very clear, for the case was one of suicide, but the fact of chloroform being taken was beyond all question—an ordinary sherry glass will hold 2 or 2 1/2 ounces—measured by the tablespoon marked on a drop-glass a table-spoon is half an ounce—this (produced) is a one ounce bottle—in death from taking chloroform I should expect to find traces of it in the stomach, and some of the actual chloroform, and in that case it was obtained with great ease, but the total quantity was not determined; there was no necessity to do so—I am referring to the case in 1863, which I saw with Dr. Woodman, but that was a case of recovery—there were considerable inflammatory symptoms in the stomach at the part which the chloroform would come in contact with—I have no note, but no doubt if the chloroform was sufficiently long in contact with the esophagus or gullet it would affect it, but if the contact with the tissues was of very short duration, I am of opinion that no abnormal appearances would be apparent—I put a teaspoonful of pure chloroform in my mouth, and held it there for five or six seconds, and then spat it out, and simply washed my mouth out with a little water, and there was a slight redness produced, but it certainly did not last longer than a few minutes, although a certain numbness continued for nearly an hour, and therefore the effect of chloroform upon animal tissues I am dear will be greatly dependent on the length of contact—when liquid chloroform is taken into the stomach it passes into the blood; its diffusibility is very great, and if taken in sufficient quantity to cause death I should expect to find traces of it in the intestines, if a sufficient period had elapsed between taking it and the death, but not so much as of its passage through the membranes—in a death so caused I should expect to find on a post-mortem examination fluidity of the blood—on Saturday, the 20th March, Dr. Stephenson showed me some of the contents of the stomach, bottle No. 5—his description of the smell as overpoweringly strong of chloroform is exactly as I should describe it myself on that date—there can be no shadow of a doubt about it—if chloroform was inhaled and then taken in a liquid state I think it would have greater effect than if taken by a person who had not previously inhaled it, but that is matter of opinion; I have no experiment to show, and I cannot put it much higher than speculation—I think it is quite consistent with facts that there should be no smell of chloroform in the mouth two or three hours after taking liquid chloroform—it is very volatile indeed, and if the mouth was open after death that would sufficiently account for it—as to the skin, if chloroform was spilt on the face and not covered, I should not expect to find any marks left—I dropped some on my hand last night, and there is no sign left—there was a slight redness produced at the time, but it was very transient, and I cannot now determine where it was, though I found the spot half an hour afterwards; but it may leave very definite marks—if you drop chloroform on your skin, and place a pad over it, it will produce a burn—in giving chloroform by inhalation I have noticed a rigidity of the jaw, and I have heard of and seen cases where there has been none, but it usually occurs, and it is for a very variable period—partial insensibility can be produced by the inhalation of chloroform during sleep, and then at a certain stage liquid chloroform could be administered—I should like to state what I have done in the case of a boy between 15 and 16, who had dislocation of his arm; it

was necessary to give him chloroform in order to reduce it; he went to sleep; we administered chloroform to him while he was asleep with great ease, and it is right that I should say that I have tried it in two cases since—one was I think a satisfactory case; the person was fairly well asleep, and in the other case the man was not very well asleep, dozing, and it is right to say I failed in both cases—in the case I had in my own experience it was an adult man—I have got a note in 1867, but there is a difficulty between 1863 and 1869—the 1863 case was Dr. Lancaster's; an adult.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. I succeeded in the case of the boy, and failed in the other, as the person was not in a good sleep—these are the only experiments I have had the opportunity of making—in the case of the boy, where chloroform was administered, the surgeon was there who was going to reduce it, and I administered it—I have had very long experience of chloroform—the 1863 case was a suicide, and so it was not necessary to make detailed notes; the Jury wanted the analysis to be made to detect the chloroform, and I did not go very fully into it—the great majority of cases reported are cases of suicide—two were by swallowing chloroform—the majority of cases of inhalation are exceptional—of course there might be positive evidence in a case, but apart from the evidence of facts, the enormous probability of evidence would be in favour of suicide, I should say—with regard to rigidity, it may last only for a very short time, a few seconds; and it may last longer—I should not like to say it would last four or five minutes—the symptoms from the inhalation of chloroform are very variable indeed—a person may be chloroformed in two minutes, or it may take a considerable time, while the quantity required to induce the effects varies also—it is not a question of time only, but of quantity—in administering chloroform we are guided by the appearance of the patient with regard to the quantity to be administered—it is the real difficulty in administering chloroform that you cannot lay down any law which applies to everybody; and therefore in all the stages we must exercise a careful judgment; and that is the reason that there are professors of chloroform who devote themselves to the practice.

By the COURT. It goes further; sometimes persons whom you would not expect, die suddenly under chloroform, and in some cases even where a careful examination has been made, and no signs of heart disease discovered; and the converse is sometimes the case, when you think it prim facie very dangerous, the person will take any quantity; so that it is singularly uncertain; and no doubt that is why ether has been so largely substituted lately, because all authorities have found it more certain in its action, although it has its disadvantages—I know the case perfectly well which I read to Mr. Clarke; I rather think it was a case of suicide—there is considerable uncertainty about the action of swallowed chloroform; it depends largely upon whether the person vomits or not—I am only judging from the subjects I have read—I think I have read everything there is, as far as I can find it—there is very much less known about swallowing chloroform than about chloroform inhaled.

By a JURY. If you were to drop chloroform on the delicate parts of the mouth, it would be likely to show marks there, though you would not see them on the skin of the hand.

By the COURT. I know nothing as to what Mr. Leach says about experimenting upon himself and producing a mark of whiteness on his tongue when he took chloroform in his mouth; it is contrary to my own experiments and my own experience—there was no sign of whiteness; it was a thing I looked for very carefully, but it was a delicate blush of redness—I only know from that one experiment—I do not think that everything is recorded.

Re-examined by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL. I kept the chloroform in my mouth five or six seconds—nothing has been recorded about that in pathological books—I know nothing about whiteness being produced.

  MARY ANN FURLONG . I live at 17, Phillips Bridge Road—I am married—I acted as servant to Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett, at Merton Cottage, from 6th January to 1st September 1885—I lived with my husband near their house—I went home every afternoon, to sleep at night—I usually went to their house in the morning at 8 o'clock—I sometimes made the beds with Mrs. Bartlett; sometimes alone—Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett did not, so far as I know, occupy separate beds in that house—I was never with them anywhere else—I sometimes saw Mr. Bartlett in the morning when I went there coming out of his bedroom—he had a cold bath every morning in his bedroom—he went to business every day—Mr. Dyson came to Merton Abbey sometimes; at the end part—I left them alone together after leaving the house—my usual time for leaving was 11 a.m., and I used to come again if Mrs. Bartlett had company; I would stay and; cook the dinner—I used to see Mr. Bartlett in the evening—he passed my house as he came home.

By the COURT. They had company sometimes; Mr. and Mrs. Matthews stopped there for a week; they and Mr. Dyson were the only visitors—Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett lived on very affectionate terms with one another as husband and wife, as far as I could judge.

  HENRY MARSHALL (Police Inspector.) I have had charge of this case—I was present at the inquest, except the first day; I was there on 4th and 11th February—Mrs. Bartlett was present on these occasions, also Mr. Dyson—on the 11th Mr. Dyson was examined as a witness—I heard what the Coroner said in Mrs. Bartlett's presence as to her being a witness—she was represented by a barrister and a solicitor—both on the 4th and the 11th something was said about her giving evidence—on the 4th the Coroner said to Mr. Wood, or said publicly, that he should like to know whether Mrs. Bartlett intended to give evidence—she did not give evidence; there was some reply, but I do not know what it was—I am not quite dear if her Counsel said anything in her presence in reference to waiting the result of the analysis, oat on the 11th, after Mr. Dyson gave evidence, the Deputy Coroner, Mr. Braxton Hicks, said he should like to know whether it was Mrs. Bartlett's intention to give evidence or not—she was not tendered as a witness—from what was said at the inquest I took her in custody in the Board-room as soon as it was cleared—I was in plain clothes, as I am now—I said "I am Inspector Marshall; after what has passed here to-day I must take you into custody for the wilful murder of your husband by administering to him, about midnight on 31st December last, a poisonous dose of chloroform; this is a serious charge, and whatever you say I must caution you that I shall reduce it to writing, and it will be given in evidence at your trial"—she said "I have nothing to say"—her solicitor was present at that time, and heard all

that passed—she was charged in the ordinary way, and taken before a Magistrate—I searched the whole of the line from Peckham Rye to Victoria: London Bridge and South-Eastern; to see if I could find any bottle; I found some, but not the one I expected—on 11th January I was at Claverton Street when the house was searched—I flaw "Squire's Companion" found among the boxes, and handed it to the Coroner's officer; I also saw the letters referred to by Ralph—on 24th February I searched a number of boxes there—no medicine chest was found; I never could find one either at Calverton Street or at Mrs. Matthews's, where Mrs. Bartlett had been staying—I searched her lodgings.

By the COURT. I searched her luggage at the office of her solicitor, and I took possession of the deceased's nightgown and a number of other things, which were handed to Dr. Stevenson—I took them from Mrs. Bartlett'a box—the nightshirt was cut down the center; I showed it to Dr. Stevenson, and the pillow and other things—there were some stains on the nightgown, just above the neck; they have been seen by Dr Stevenson—I went with Mr. Dyson to Wandsworth Common on 15th February, and searched at the place he pointed out—I found this coloured bottle with "Poison, not to be taken," on it—I have searched the common twice, but have not been able to find the other bottles—on 18th February Mr. Dyson was taken in custody—I had received the warrant that day from the Coroner; I took him before the Magistrate—it was for both prisoners, and it charged them with murder.

By the COURT. There was a large box of books which were not taken possession of; this is the only one that struck me—I looked at most of them, but not all; they, were mostly English books, I do not remember any foreign books—the Pharmacopoceia is the only one that struck me.

DR. STEVENSON (Re-examined). There were brought to me the nightdress and a pillow-case; they were delivered to me and Dr. Tidy conjointly—there were spots and stains on the nightdress—I examined them, but only detected a little sugary substance—that might have been by any ordinary article of liquid food, such as beef-tea, and it might be the result of perspiration—it was not tea; the tannin character of tea or brandy was absent; no brandy or tea had been spilt on it—it might have been sweet—there was so sign on the pillow-case; it was only the tick in which it was put.

MRS. DOGGETT (Re-examined). Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett came to lodge with me in October—his illness began in December; Dr. Leach was called in, I think, on the 10th—up to the time of Mr. Bartlett's illness at first there was only one bedroom and one bed; it was in the back room, they used it together; after that a smaller bed was got for them, and put into the bedroom—they continued to occupy the same room up to the time of the illness, the small bed was then moved into the drawing room—I think the servant, Ann Foulger, can answer the question as to whether both beds or on one were used before the removal into the front drawing room—sometimes I went up to help the servant to make the large bed—I found the small one re-made, but whether Mrs. Bartlett had made it or not I cannot say—there were folding doors communicating between the drawing room and the bedroom behind; it was not necessary to go on to the landing to get from the bedroom to the front room—some furniture was put near the folding doors when the small bedstead was put up, when the sofa was put there; that was in December—after the

sofa was placed there it was still possible to go behind it—it was not dose to the door, she could pass through—I did not see anything unusual in the relationship between Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett; as far as I could judge I think they were on affectionate terms as husband and wife.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKE. Mrs. Bartlett ordered me to get another bed to put in the room—I bought it on purpose; it was mine, I purchased it—when they came they asked for two beds in the bedroom; the first time they came I had not in the house a bed small enough to put in, and it was nearly a week before I could get out, to run to the Stores, and it was some days before they sent it—when they first took the rooms it was stipulated that they should have two beds.

By the COURT. I have been present in the room when Mr. Dyson has been there with Mrs. Bartlett, but not with Mr. Bartlett—I never heard what he called her or what she called him.

  ANN FOULGER (Re-examined). I was servant to Mrs. Doggett—I recollect Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett coming there in October—I recollect his illness in December—they occupied the same bedroom when they came—they occupied the same bed the first week, and then the small bed was put in the bedroom—they afterwards occupied separate beds—then the small bed was moved into the front room when the illness came on—after that Mrs. Bartlett used to have the sofa moved up in front of the fire, and slept there.

By the COURT. I waited upon them and also when Mr. Dyson was dining there—I never heard what Mr. Dyson and Mr. Bartlett called one another—I have heard Mr. Bartlett address Mr. Dyson as Mr. Dyson, and I have heard Mrs. Bartlett call him George—when Mr. Bartlett has been present I have heard her speak to Mr. Dyson both as Mr. Dyson and George—I do not remember his calling her anything—when Mr. Dyson used to come there I have seen books about; I cannot say if they were open—I know nothing about lessons being given, or if Mr. Dyson brought books with him; I have not noticed; I cannot tell whether he did or not.

  EDMUND BLAKE (Police Officer). I understand making plant and models, and have often made them for Courts of Justice—the plans produced are correct and to scale.

  ANNIE WALKER (Re-examined by MR. CLARKE.). At the time I nursed Mrs. Bartlett in her confinement I heard from both of them that the single act only happened once on a Sunday afternoon; there was always some preventive used.

MR. DOGGETT (Re-examined). It was between 25 minutes and half-past 12 when I went to bed on the night of 31st December.

NOT GUILTY .