12th December 1887
Reference Numbert18871212-149
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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149. DANIEL FRANCIS DOHERTY(35) was indicted for the wilful murder of George Michael Graham. He was also charged on the Coroner's inquisition with the manslaughter of the same person.


THOMAS MEEDEN (Policeman E 227). I have experience in making plans—under the instructions of Inspector Pinhorn I prepared this plan (produced) of the two rooms on the first floor of 47, Woburn Place, and this is an exact copy of it—I have marked and numbered the positions of the different articles of furniture in the room. (The witness pointed these out on the plan, and also on a model of the room).

JOSEPH TYLER HOWE . I am at present living at 186, Marylebone Road—I am an American by birth; I have been in England since May last—I knew the deceased, George Michael Graham—he was a fellow countryman of mine, and came over here in October, I think—I have met the prisoner, I believe he is an American—I first met him about June or July in London—prior to the 19th November I had seen the deceased and the prisoner together, and, as far as I could judge, they always appeared to be on perfectly friendly terms—on the night of the 19th November I went to the Churchill Club at 84, New Oxford Street, and there met the prisoner—we played baccarat together, and I won about 600l. from him—after the game we spoke to each other, and I said "I shall see you on Monday"—he has not paid me that money as yet—we parted from the Club about 2 or 3 o'clock in the early morning of Sunday—that was all that was said about it that night—on Monday, the 28th November, in the neighbourhood of 2 o'clock in the afternoon I went to the Bodega in

Glasshouse Street and there saw the deceased, and about half-past 2 the prisoner came in—Graham was still there—I asked the prisoner if he intended to pay the money, and he said he had not the funds to pay with—I said "Well, if you cannot pay that must end it," or words to that effect—nothing else passed between us then that I can remember—Graham had left the table and returned; he was not there when the conversation took place—he returned directly it was over; the prisoner then rose from his chair, and said to Graham, "Come, George, let us go," and they went out together—I should judge that to be about the neighbourhood of 3 o'clock—on the evening of this same day, about 6 p.m., I went to the American bar of the Criterion Restaurant, and there saw the prisoner—I went up to the bar to drink, and whilst I was there drinking the prisoner came up and said "I cannot pay that money"; he did not say why; I said "Very well, we shan't converse any more about it"—at this time I saw Mr. Graham at the bar, but I do not think he was sufficiently near to hear; the prisoner then mumbled over something, but I did not catch what it was—I walked away towards the grill, which is in the same room—as I was walking Mr. Graham, who was seated at a table, called me towards him and asked me to have a drink and to introduce him to his friend—I then sat down at the table where he was and ordered a drink—Mr. Graham then called Doherty, who came and sat down, and we all drank together—that was Mr. Graham, Mr. Graham's friend, the prisoner, and myself—we were sitting down there together probably five or six minutes, the prisoner then spoke to me and said he could not pay the 600l.—I had not alluded to it in any way whilst we were sitting there—he said it in such a tone that Graham could hear it, and he did hear it—when Doherty opened the conversation about the 600l. I said "I hope you will excuse me, gentlemen, I don't wish to have any conversation about this money"—Doherty then said to Mr. Graham, "Come on, George, you are going home to dine with me?"—we were talking rather loud, and the superintendent of the American bar came up the step and said "This won't do here"—I said "I shan't have any noise myself, excuse me," and I got up and left the table—when Doherty said "I can't pay you the 600l." I said "I am very much disappointed in you"—I think that was said at the Bodega, when he first spoke to me about it—at the Criterion Doherty was talking rather loud about the 600l.; he spoke in a loud voice so that the people round could hear—Doherty left the table when Graham left it, after I left; just before that Graham said to him "Are you not going to drink all your glass?" he had only sipped it, and I think he told him not to talk so loud; he touched him on the shoulder and told him to sit down—Doherty had risen and intended to go, I should judge; he then sat down—that was the first time that Graham had interfered in the matter—after the superintendent came up Doherty ceased to talk so loudly; the superintendent remained by the table; he then got up and walked away—I went to the bar and called for some more drink—whilst I was standing there Doherty came up and we drank together; before that Doherty said to Graham, "You are coming home to dine with me?"; Graham said "Certainly," and they passed out together—that was probably about half-past six, or it might have been a little later—it would be between 6 and 7 when they left the Criterion, nearer 7 than 6—I could not swear whether Doherty was drinking with any one else or not—I know he had two drinks—he seemed to know what

he was about—I could not say what he had been drinking; it was spirits; his manner was not very pleasant—he did not call me any name that I remember, he mumbled something or other, but I walked away, and did not pay any attention to it and did not hear what it was—between 9 and 10 that evening I received certain information which took me to University College Hospital—I there saw Graham, he was conscious at that time—he knew me, he shook me by the hand, and called me by name—I paid him two visits after—I last saw him on Monday morning, 27th November, and was with him when he died, at a quarter to 5 in the morning.

By the COURT. I saw Doherty walk at the Criterion bar, he walked straight.

Cross-examined. I was not examined at the inquest, I was not there; I do not know that Mrs. Doherty was examined on' oath on that occasion.

GEORGE HANSON . I am superintendent of the American bar at the Criterion Restaurant—on Monday evening, 21st November, about a quarter to 7 or nearly 7 o'clock, I saw the three men, Graham, Howe, and the prisoner, seated at a table there—my attention was called to them because they were talking rather loud, I was on the other side of the room—I went to them, and as I came to them Graham was sitting on the other side of the table, the prisoner and Howe were on the sofa—Graham said "It's all right, there will be no row here, I will keep them quiet"—I said "Very well, then, I won't say any thing"—there seemed to be some dispute going on between Howe and the prisoner—Howe then left the table—as soon as he did so the prisoner went out, Howe went to the door and the prisoner followed out; I did the same, because I saw that the prisoner was very excited, and I looked at him as he came to Howe—Howe said "You leave me alone, I will not have anything else to do with you, it is quiet enough now, you keep quiet and don't talk to me again"—Howe turned round and went to the bar—the prisoner followed him to the bar, I did the same, and as he arrived there near Howe, the prisoner said "Will you have a glass to drink now?" Howe smiled, and said "Are you getting into a better temper now, how is it you ask me to have a glass now?"—he said "Well, don't let us talk about it now, let us have a glass and everything will be all over," so he asked for a glass and they had a drink together; they were quiet then, and I left them standing at the bar—I don't think the prisoner was drunk; he seemed excited, but not drunk; he walked like a man who was excited but not drunk, quite well—I can't say that the man was drunk, I don't think so, he was very steady in his walk.

MARGARET REED . I am housemaid to Mrs. Addison, of 47, Woburn Place; the prisoner and his wife occupied two rooms, the drawing room floor, the first-floor; they came there about five months ago—the front room is the sitting room; it has three windows looking on to the street—, the bedroom is at the back, with folding-doors and a curtain as well—on Monday, 21st November, dinner had been ordered for 7 o'clock—Mrs. Doherty was at home at that time; Mr. Doherty came in at 20 minutes to 8 with a friend, Mr. Graham—he had a latch-key, I saw him let himself in; I was in the dining room, I saw him walk through the hall—I had seen Mr. Graham there on several occasions, he had dined there with Mr. Doherty—on this occasion I was not certain that he was coming to dine; I had laid the dinner things for three at the table in the middle of the room—I saw Mr. Doherty go upstairs, he walked all right,

I think—Mr. Graham also went up—I went up about 10 minutes after them—I took up the joint and put it on the table—Mr. Doherty was then sitting on a chair by the window nearest the fireplace, near the writing-table, which is in the furthest corner from the door (referring to the model), he was not doing anything—Mr. Graham was standing between Mr. Doherty and the other side of the table, Mrs. Doherty was standing between the dinner-table and the easy-chair, the ladies' chair—I did not hear anything said—I put the dish on the table and went out and fetched the plates and vegetables, brought them in and put them on the table—Mr. Graham pulled his chair and sat down by the dinner-table, Mr. Doherty remained in his chair—Mrs. Doherty never moved while I was in the room, she stood where she was when I entered the room—I put the things on the table and then left the room to get the sauce-boat from Wiseman, the page boy, who was assisting in bringing up the things; I went dawn three steps, Wiseman was on the landing ready to give me the sauce-boat—I heard Mrs. Doherty ask Mr. Doherty if he would come to his dinner; that was while I was in the room—he never answered her—I heard nothing more said—when I went down the three stairs I heard a noise, I was not positive what it was, I heard something fired—before that I heard Mrs. Doherty ask Mr. Doherty "Why do you look so strange?"—he made no answer; he did look very strange that night, he had a strange expression on his face; he looked as if he was cross and upset by something—I did not hear Mr. Graham say anything before I left the room—I do not remember anything else that was said before I left the room—after leaving the room the noise was the first thing I heard, and then I heard Mrs. Doherty scream, and she rushed out of the room—I can't remember any word that she used, not then—I had then gone down and got the sauce-boat from the page, he was on the first landing, just at the foot of the first flight of stairs—after Mrs. Doherty rushed out of the room she stood a little time on the landing and then went downstairs—after she rushed out I heard a noise in the room like scuffling, and then I heard another noise, a shot a second time—I heard nothing more, I then went downstairs—I should think there was an interval of four or five seconds between the shots—when I went down I remained in the hall—I saw Mr. Graham come downstairs; that seemed a little time after the second shot, I don't know whether it was five minutes or not, he came down alone and went into the dining room; Mrs. Doherty was there, and Mrs. Addison and some friends who lodge there—I did not hear Mr. Graham say anything when he came down; Mrs. Doherty sent Mr. Edinboro, one of the lodgers, for a doctor—I afterwards saw Mr. Graham undo his trousers, and I saw blood on his shirt—a Mr. Von Angern was there—I saw Mr. Doherty leaning over the banisters by the drawing room door, and he afterwards came down, between five and ten minutes after Mr. Graham had come down; the doctor had arrived then, he had arrived before I saw Mr. Doherty leaning over the banisters, about five minutes after Mr. Graham had come down—when Mr. Doherty came down he went into the dining room where Mr. Graham was—Mrs. Addison was there, and I believe the doctor—when Mr. Doherty came in he said to Mr. Graham "It was an accident"—Mr. Graham said "Yes," he was then taken away in a cab with the constable and Mr. Edinboro—I went up into the drawing room as soon as Mr. Graham went—I noticed the ladies' arm-chair on fire, in front of the back part, there was a red fire on

it, not burning, smouldering; it was standing—I moved it and saw a bullet on the carpet, just at the back of the chair—it was afterwards taken possession of by the police, and the board was taken up—I got a wet sponge, took the chair out of the room, and put out the fire; none of the furniture had been upset, nothing moved—I saw a table-napkin on the table, at the corner, it had not been unfolded, it was in the ring; there was something black on it like powder—this is it (produced), it was more black then—I had put it on clean on the Saturday, it had no black on it—the other napkins had not been moved—I had not put one for Mr. Graham, this one was moved to the corner—I afterwards showed Inspector Pinhorn the chair and where the bullet was, I gave it to him—I had seen a revolver once, on the mantelpiece in the bedroom quite two months ago—I did not know where it was kept—this is it, and this is the chair—when the police came Mr. Doherty was taken away, Mrs. Doherty remained.

Cross-examined. I was examined before the Coroner as well as before the Magistrate—Mr. Graham had been several times to dinner, not on other occasions—he always came with Mr. Doherty, and he and Mrs. Doherty and Mr. Graham dined together—Mr. Doherty generally came home to dinner—they all seemed to be very friendly and intimate—I never noticed any quarrel, estrangement, or difference between them—I did not take notice whether they were old friends—I never heard them call each other by their names—when they came in they had their hats and coats on—I don't know where Mr. Graham put his coat or hat—Mr. Doherty always used to put his hat on the fire-screen—sometimes he laid his coat on the sofa or the door—I was at the Coroner's Court when Mrs. Doherty was examined—I did not see Mr. Doherty go into his bedroom—I don't know whether he did or not—I don't remember whether the folding-doors were open or closed—I always look after the bedrooms—I cannot recollect whether the basin had been used for washing hands—I went into the room after Mr. Doherty came down, and the basin had been used, by whom I could not say—after I had seen them seated Mrs. Doherty was standing—I don't remember seeing a paper in Mr. Graham's hand—he drew up his chair to the table with his legs under the table—Mrs. Doherty sat at the end of the table, and Mr. Doherty was facing Mr. Graham—it was I who noticed the chair burning—no one called my attention to it, there was no one else in the room—I saw it after I saw Mr. Doherty standing by the landing, and after he had come down to the dining-room—I was three steps downstairs when I heard the first shot—I think I said four steps before the Coroner—there are 10 steps from the top to the first landing where the boy was—there was a tressel on the landing which I put my tray on—I took off all the covers when I left the room, and left them on the tressel outside—it was as I was walking down to meet the boy that I heard the first report—I took three more steps down when I heard the second report: the second followed the first very quickly—I was down the middle of the first flight when Mrs. Doherty screamed and rushed past me—it was after she came out of the room that I heard the scuffling—it was not like a man rising suddenly from his chair and pushing it from him—it was like two gentlemen trying to take something away from each other—it seemed like a scuffle—I heard no voices or angry words; only some noise on the floor—the drawing-room door was open—if there had been any angry words or

shouts, or anything of that kind, I should have heard them; I heard none—I don't think I said anything about a scuffle before the Coroner—I did not think of it at the time—I did not attach any importance to it when before the Coroner—I said before the Coroner that Mr. Doherty had a funny expression in his face, which I had not seen before; he looked rather stupid—I had never noticed him drunk—he looked rather stupid and cross—Mrs. Doherty said "Dan, why do you look so strange?"—I did not hear her say "Why, Dan, you have been drinking"—if she said so it must have been before I came into the room, I did not hear it—I don't know what made me look at him—I was seen by the police, and my evidence was taken before I was examined at the inquest—I mentioned about the scuffle to Mr. Pinhorn on the night of the occurrence—I had laid the table for three on this occasion—Mrs. Doherty had told me to do so—I did not hear any laughing or talking after they came in; I heard no talking at all—Mrs. Doherty had something in the fender, I could not say what it was—I said before the Magistrate: "I mentioned the scuffle first on the Sunday after Mr. Graham died—I think I mentioned it to Inspector Pinhorn at the time the statement was taken down"—that was after the death, but I made a mistake; I mentioned it the same night—I went downstairs when Mrs. Doherty went down—Mr. Graham came down very soon after her; I should say nearly five minutes—Mrs. Doherty had been running out into the street before he came down—he came down with ease as if not conscious of being seriously hurt—I did not think he was hurt—he came down without wanting any assistance; he walked in his ordinary way—I remained in the hall—I did not see what was going on in the dining-room—I heard them talking, but did not hear what they were saying—I saw Mr. Von Angern run downstairs before Mr. Doherty came down—when Mr. Doherty came down, he only said "It was an accident"—he still had the stupid look I have described—he spoke very little—I saw one doctor come—I don't know his name—Mr. Doherty asked one of the doctors if he was a doctor, and he said "Yes"—he was attending to Mr. Graham.

Re-examined. When I told the Magistrate that Mr. Doherty had a funny look, I was asked what I meant by it, and I said he looked cross—half of the folding-door was always kept locked and bolted—there were several newspapers in the room; they stood between the middle window and the wall.

FRANK WISEMAN . I am page boy at 47, Woburn Place—on the Monday evening I assisted in bringing up the dinner from the kitchen—I was on the landing between the ground floor and the first floor; I had got up the sauce-boat after the housemaid had carried in the joint and vegetables—I was on the first landing half-way down the stairs—as the housemaid came towards me I heard a report of firearms—she had taken the sauce-boat from me, and had just gone back with it; she had come down three stairs—Mrs. Doherty then ran out of the room screaming and went downstairs—I then ran down—I heard the report of another firearm—I can't say what interval there was between the two shots; I should say three or four seconds—about three, minutes after the second shot I saw Mr. Graham come downstairs and go into the dining-room—I saw him undo his trousers, and saw that he was wounded—I afterwards saw Mr. Doherty sitting in a chair in the dining-room—I had not seen anything of him before that—I had not seen him come downstairs—I saw

him at the top of the stairs opposite the drawing-room door—he seemed to be listening to what was going on in the house—he was standing with his hands behind him, near the banisters—I could see him from the hall.

Cross-examined. All who were in the hall could have seen where he was if they had looked, he was not concealing himself—I heard Mr. Graham say "I am shot," as he was coming downstairs—I was excited at what had occurred—I did not hear what took place in the dining room.

ELLEN ADDISON . I am the wife of Thomas Addison, and live at 47, Woburn Place we let apartments—the prisoner and his wife were lodging with us since June—on Monday night, 21st November, we were at dinner in the dining room on the ground floor, when the prisoner returned about 20 minutes to 8—Mr. Edinboro was dining with us, and Mr. Von Angern and my daughter—after dinner Mr. Von Angern went up to his bedroom—I heard a noise overhead, it seemed like something falling; I then heard screaming, and then a second, noise—I rushed to the foot of the stairs, and saw Mrs. Doherty rushing down—there was a very short interval between the two noises—Mrs. Doherty fell down the first flight—I caught her, she said "My husband has shot himself," or "has shot his friend," in the agitation of the moment I do not remember which—at that point Mr. Edinboro Went for a doctor—I think Mr. Graham had come down before Mr. Edinboro left—I stayed in the room for a second or so with Mrs. Doherty—I did not notice the boy—Mr. Graham came down directly after the second shot—I had only time to catch Mrs. Doherty—she went out of the hall door and came back again, and by that time Mr. Graham came down—I think he came down before Mr. Edinboro went out to fetch a doctor—I went into the dining room immediately with Mrs. Doherty and Mr. Graham—she said to him "Are you hurt?" he said "Yes, I am hit;" she asked where and he placed his hand on the part, in front of his stomach—Mrs. Doherty then said "It was an accident," he said "Yes, give me pen, ink, and paper," and he sat down in an easy chair—before he sat down he unfastened his trousers and showed Mrs. Doherty where he was wounded—I got the pen, ink and paper for him immediately, they were quite handy, and he sat forward if the chair as if to write; he then felt faint and leaned back—about that time Dr. Garlick came, he lives next door but one—he examined Mr. Graham, and it was arranged to send him to the hospital I went to the door for a cab—a cab was brought—I returned to the dining during that time, or before, Mr. Doherty had come down—I was away from the dining room perhaps a minute or not so long—Mr. Doherty said to Mr. Graham, "It was an accident," Mr. Graham said "Yes"—Mr. Edinboro then returned, and after him a police-constable arrived—with their assistance Mr. Graham was put into the cab; he did not want much assistance, he walked down the hall, and was. taken to the hospital-after he had gone the prisoner and his wife remained with me in the dining room—Mrs. Doherty was very excited and agitated, he seemed to me to be dull and stupid—I asked him where the pistol was—I don't think he replied, but Mrs. Doherty ran upstairs to see if it was in the room; it was all done very quickly—she returned almost immediately, she did not say anything, she looked at me and I concluded that the pistol was in his pocket—she shook her head, as much as to say it

was not upstairs—in consequence of that I went and sat down by the side of the prisoner, taking one of his hands in mine, whilst his wife sat on the other side of him taking his other hand—I thought he might take it out of his pocket, and that inadvertently it might go off—Mr. Von Angern then came into the room with Mr. Murphy, another doctor—I said to Mr. Murphy, "Would you take the pistol away?"—the prisoner said nothing—Mr. Murphy said it was not his place—I then said to Mr. Von Angern, "Fetch a policeman"—I think the prisoner said the pistol was upstairs—Mr. Von Angern left the room, then Dr. Padmore arrived, the prisoner was still in the dining room, and Mrs. Doherty also—after that policeman Wilton returned, I then left the dining room, when I returned I found that Wilton had taken the prisoner into custody—during all this time it seemed to me that he was in a stupid condition, he said nothing—as far as I can remember, I have given every word lie said—he might have been there a quarter of an hour perhaps, I am not at all certain of the time.

Cross-examined. I was at the Coroner's inquest when Mrs. Doherty was examined on oath—I heard the noise, which proved to be a report of firearms, and after the first report, and before the second, I got up and went into the hall, as well as I recollect—it was the second report that alarmed me, and then I rushed out into the hall on the instant of the second report—I found Mrs. Doherty rushing downstairs in an agitated manner—I had just time to catch Mrs. Doherty in my arms—she went to the door, and was coming back to the room when I saw Graham coming down; he was coming quickly after her—she spoke very kindly to Graham, "Are you hurt?"—she then said "It was an accident," not as a question, as a statement—he said "Yes, Mrs. Doherty"—that was some time before the prisoner came downstairs, immediately Graham got into the dining-room—I was there continuously in the presence of Graham and Doherty after Doherty came down until he was taken away in a cab; I was practically in Doherty's hearing all the time—there is no ground for suggesting that Doherty went close to Graham and felt in his pockets or pocket; I am quite positive of that—Graham was quite quiet, and seemed to have his senses under perfect self-command—the prisoner scarcely spoke at all, and when I and his wife stood on each side of him to see whether he had the pistol he was perfectly passive in our hands—I am quite sure from my own judgment that the prisoner had been drinking; I think he was Stupid from drink—I noticed huskiness in his voice; his voice was thick, like that of a drunken man—when he came down his manner was friendly towards Graham—he mumbled something about being sorry, in a thick voice; Graham was going off in the cab that was waiting for him—when he first came into the room Doherty said something about its being accidental—he said "Are you hurt, Graham?"—Graham said "Yes"—Doherty said "I am sorry, you know it was an accident"—Graham said "Yes"—Graham did not make any accusation or express any resentment against Doherty in any form of language to me or Mrs. Doherty before or after Doherty came down—I heard Dr. Padmore say he thought Doherty's condition was verging on delirium tremens.

MAX VON ANGERL . I am a journalist, and on 21st November I was living at 47, Woburn Place, and occupying a front bedroom, third floor, there—I had been dining downstairs that evening with Mrs. Addison,

but before 8 o'clock I went up to dress, as I was going out—about 8 o'clock I was in my bedroom, when I heard a loud noise, which I thought was a pistol shot, from below; then I thought I heard a scream, and after that another shot—I opened my door, and walked out, and downstairs—I had to pass the drawing-room landing, where I saw the prisoner standing in the open drawing-room door—I thought I noticed a pistol in his hand; I cannot say for certain in which hand or how he was holding it; I am not very sure I saw it at all, it is only my impression—as I passed down there was, I think, a space of four feet between us—he was simply standing quietly, he did not say anything; I expect he saw me going past him, he was facing towards me; he did not speak, nor did I—I passed on to the dining-room floor; I opened the dining-room door, which was closed, and inside I saw Mr. Graham—Mrs. Doherty was present—Mr. Graham undid his clothes, and then I went for a doctor—I was away, I expect, about 15 minutes, and when I returned Mr. Graham had left the house—on a chair in the dining-room I saw the prisoner seated, with Mrs. Addison on one side and his wife on the other, each holding a hand—I said to him "Do you intend to do any more mischief?"—Mrs. Addison asked him then for the pistol—the prisoner said the pistol was upstairs—there was some more conversation at the time with regard to the pistol—after that I left the house, and went to Bow Street for the purpose of calling the police to the, premises—when I came back the prisoner was already in custody.

GEORGE GARLICK . I live at 45, Woburn Place, and am a registered medical practitioner—I was sent for, and went to this house a little before 8 o'clock—I saw Mr. Graham there, and saw he had got this wound in the side—afterwards I saw Mrs. Doherty in the room—when I first went into the room the prisoner was not there; he came down into the room, I should judge, a minute after I arrived, or perhaps a little longer—when the prisoner and Mrs. Doherty were in the room Graham proposed that he should go to his house, and I was against it, and recommended that he should be taken to bed, so that we could have him undressed to examine him properly—Mrs. Doherty then spoke, looking towards her husband as if she were desiring him to come and assist Graham; I could not say the words she said—when they were in the room the prisoner did not assist, but afterwards, when we went into the passage, the prisoner came forward to assist Graham upstairs—when he did so Mrs. Doherty placed herself between the prisoner and Graham, and said something to the effect that the two should not go upstairs together—he was not taken upstairs; he was afterwards taken to the hospital—I saw the prisoner enter the room and walk to the other end, and then I saw him sit at the other end of the table—he did not appear to me to walk in any staggering way, and his step did not suggest to me that he was intoxicated—as he sat at the other end of the table he had a lowering, frowning expression—I do not know that I have much to add to that—he did not move, he sat at the other end of the table—when Graham was seated in the cab the prisoner was not there.

Cross-examined. I was occupied with my patient; that was the principal object of my attention—I said at the police-court "Doherty was sitting at the other end of the table, with a dazed expression, lowering expression," and I added "Not as though under the influence of drink"—I had not had it suggested to my mind at that time that he had been

drinking; no one had told me—the wound was on the right side of the abdomen, not quite so high as the hip-bone; not far off—I should say it was below the navel—I did not see the mark on the other side where it came out—Mrs. Doherty in the room made some intimation to her husband to come forward and assist Graham upstairs, and when he did come forward in the passage to assist she interposed between them, and said something—I did not notice that when the prisoner came forward to assist, Graham showed any resentment in any way to his offering to assist him—I noticed no recoiling from the prisoner; nothing of the kind—I heard the constable put the question to Graham when Graham was in the cab, and I was standing outside at the door, to the effect "Shall I arrest Doherty?"—the answer was "It was an accident"—that was meant as the answer, and that he was not to arrest—during all this time Graham was quite calm and collected; he was not in fact conscious, so far as you could judge, that he had received a serious wound—whether he did not know, or whether he was a man of great courage, he showed no want of self-command, and was completely calm and collected—I should say a wound like that ought to have caused pain after the first shock was over; when I say first shock, I daresay he would not have felt it the instant he was shot, but almost immediately after he would—I know he was not suffering considerable pain at the time he was put into the cab, because I asked him the question—he was not under much prostration at the time—one would not have said he was wounded unless you had known it, I think.

EICHARD WILTON (Policeman E 126). On Monday, 21st November, Mr. Edinboro spoke to me at the corner of Russell Square and Woburn Place, and in consequence I went at once to 27, Woburn Place; I got there about 10 minutes past 8—I saw Mr. Graham in the hall—afterwards a cab was sent for, and I and Mr. Edinboro took him to University College Hospital—on the way there he said "I feel myself bleeding in the stomach"—it took us five or six minutes to drive to the hospital—I and Mr. Edinboro assisted him out of the cab there; he gave me some directions—I left him just at the entrance of the door—I afterwards returned to 47, Woburn Place, where I saw the prisoner—I took him into custody and detained him there in consequence of what Graham had said to me when he got out of the cab at the University College Hospital—I went back to the house as quick as possible; the prisoner was sitting in the dining room—I said "Mr. Doherty?"—he said "Yes"—I said "A revolver, sir?"—he said "Yes"—I said "You had better give it to me, sir, before there is any further mischief done"—he then took the revolver from his waist-belt under his waistcoat in' front of the trousers—I had not seen it before he took it from there—his wife said "You had better give the constable the revolver," and then it was I saw him take it from his waist-belt—this is the revolver produced, a five-chambered revolver—three of the chambers were loaded and two empty—"Smith and Wesson, Springfield, Mass." is on the top part of the barrel—when the prisoner gave me the revolver he said to me "Is my friend hurt much?" (I made this note directly afterwards) "I hope he is not; I did not mean to hurt him; I am very sorry"—I told him I should detain him till the arrival of the inspector—I remained with him till Inspector Pinhorn arrived—I then handed the revolver to the inspector—I should think the inspector came five or ten minutes after—the prisoner

had said nothing more in the meantime—that same night I was at the hospital about 12 o'clock when the prisoner and the inspector were by the side of Graham—I heard a paper read—before it was read over in the presence of the prisoner and Graham I had heard the inspector read it to the prisoner, before he was taken in the operating room—when the paper was read the prisoner, Graham, myself, the inspector, a doctor, and a detective were present—at the end the prisoner said "I never had any wrong words with you"—Graham said "He is right"—when I detained Doherty he had been drinking, but I don't think he was drunk.

Cross-examined. I could see he had been drinking—just before we started for the hospital Graham said "I have been shot, bat if was quite an accident; call a cab"—I put no questions to him on the way to the hospital—when I came to arrest the prisoner he said "Is my friend hurt much; I hope he is not; I did not mean to hurt him; I am very sorry "—I charge my memory that that is what he said—he had been drinking; I don't think he was drunk—I said at the police-court "Doherty was not exactly sober; he had been drinking, but was not drunk, bat I cannot say whether he knew what he was about"—that presented my view of the matter at the time—I was present at the hospital when the prisoner was brought into the presence of Graham—I knew there had been an operation performed by Dr. Barnes about half-past nine that evening, I believe—I think it was between 12 and quarter-past at night when this statement was read over in the presence of Graham to the prisoner—Pinhorn said "You must not ask him too many questions; he is in rather a dangerous state"—I believe those were the words or words to that purpose; I don't know the exact words—I don't remember Pinhorn saying "If you have a question to put to him put it through me; I will put them to him; it will disturb him less if I put the questions for you"—Doherty put no question but the one I have mentioned—I am quite clear about the words used on this occasion, "Had I any wrong words with you?"—the deceased said he was right, meaning to assent, that he had not had any wrong words with him, as I understood—when the prisoner was told he might put a question he appeared to me to be about to make a lot of questions, and the inspector said "You must not ask him too many questions; he is in a dangerous state."

CHARLES PINHORN (Inspector E). About half-past eight p.m. on the 21st November, in consequence of certain information, I went to 47, Woburn Place—at the dining-room door I saw "Wilton, and in the dining room I saw the prisoner—Mrs. Addison spoke to me, and in consequence of what she said I said to the prisoner "l am an inspector of police; I am told you have wounded a man, and shall have to arrest you"—the prisoner replied "Yes"—I left the constable in charge of him after the constable had handed me the revolver that has been produced—accompanied by Margaret Reed I went up on to the drawing-room floor, where she pointed out to me an easy-chair—I noticed the spot on which the chair stood at the time she pointed it out; it is correctly shown on the model; this is the easy-chair—I noticed a hole in the front of the back and a hole at the back of the back of the easy-chair—the hole at the back was between three and four inches lower than that at the front—at the same time my attention was called to the carpet of the room immediately at the back of the chair, and to the floor boards under the carpet—I noticed a hole such as would be made by a bullet in the carpet and could

feel it in the boards—I have brought the floor boards away (the piece of board was produced)—there was no bullet in the board when I saw it; it had been taken out by the girl Reed—the hole did not go very far in; it went in transversely—at about the same time this bullet was handed to me by the girl; it has been somewhat flattened—I have since fitted that bullet in its present shape in the hole in the floor board—the bullet is 38 calibre—the revolver was handed to me by the constable—I examined and found it contained two empty cartridges, and three chambers had full cartridge cases—the bullet corresponds with those cartridges as far as I can see—while I was in the drawing room I believe Mrs. Doherty came up from downstairs—she returned from the dining room to the drawing room, and then handed me this box containing 45 full cartridges—I saw she took them from a chest of drawers in the bedroom leading out of the drawing room—the cartridges corresponded exactly with the full cartridges in the revolver—I then returned downstairs and took the prisoner to the station—I left him there and went to University College Hospital, where I saw the house surgeon, Mr. Jecks—in consequence of what he told me I went in search of a Magistrate with the idea of taking Mr. Graham's deposition—I returned to the police-station, and there later information reached me, in consequence of which I returned at once to the hospital, taking the prisoner with me—about quarter to 12 I told him I was about to take him to the hospital to see Mr. Graham; that I was about to take a statement from him as to what had occurred—he replied "I wish I was in his position"—I then took him to the hospital with Sergeant Leake and Constable Wilton—I left him there in charge while I went into the operating theatre—I saw Mr. Graham there lying on the operating table—he was drowsy; he kept his eyes closed for a while—I put certain questions to him, which had the effect of somewhat arousing him—I then continued my questions, and he answered them, and I took down in writing the substance of the answers as he gave them—I believe Dr. Jecks was present and others—the notes I made are attached to the deposition; these (produced) are they—I took the notes into an adjoining room, and from those notes and my recollection of what the man had said to me I wrote out this statement—I took the statement into the operating theatre and read it over to Mr. Graham—he was then fully aroused; he did not suggest or make any alteration—I then went to the prisoner and brought him with the officers into the operating theatre, and said to him "I have a statement here made by Mr. Graham, I am about to take you in to him and read it in his presence, and you will be able to, ask Mr. Graham any questions you choose upon it"—I then read it to him in the presence of the two officers—he was virtually in their custody—I then told Mr. Graham that Mr. Doherty was there, and that I was about to again read the statement to him—I did so; I read it slowly so that the prisoner could hear it—he stood by my side—Graham did not then suggest any alteration or addition—after I had read it I asked him to sign it, and he did so—this is it (Read: "I met Mr. Doherty at 4.30 this afternoon at the Bodega, and was with him until we went to his house; we went there in a cab, and on the way had some conversation about 600l. he had lost. He said he should not pay it. I said he ought to. In the room his wife said he had been drinking and was upset. Whilst they were talking I picked up a newspaper, and thinking that

dinner was ready, sat down. He went into the bedroom, and coming out again fired at me. I cannot say he pointed the revolver at me, because I had the newspaper. After he had fried he said to himself 'Fire, fire, fire. I said 'You have hit me.' He did not attempt to assist me. I went downstairs, and he then felt in my trousers pocket as if to see I had a revolver. I then said it was an accident for fear he should fire again")—this is signed George M. Graham, and by three witnesses—after that I told the prisoner that he could ask Mr. Graham a few questions if he pleased—he commenced to talk in a rambling, confused kind of manner as to their former acquaintance, and I then said to him "Please put your question through me, so as not to disturb Mr. Graham," and he said "Have I ever had any wrong words with you before?"—I commenced to repeat the question, when Mr. Graham answered "He is right," without waiting for my repeating it—I then wrote down the question and answer—I then said to the prisoner "Have you any other question to ask?" and he signified by his action that he did not wish to ask any other question—he shook his head, and turned to go—we then left the room, and he was afterwards taken to the police-station—he was there charged with shooting with a revolver at George Michael Graham, with intent to slay and kill—he made no answer—this was about half-past 12—I had seen the prisoner, and had him more or less under observation from half-past 8 in the evening—when I first saw him he struck me as being sober—he appeared to have been drinking, but he seemed fully to know what he was about—he spoke plainly—there was nothing peculiar about his walk—his condition afterwards was much about the same.

Cross-examined. The pistol is a new one—I should think it had never been fired before—it has the modern improvements—one, action of the trigger serves the two purpose of discharging one chamber, and bringing the next chamber in its place—it does not require two pulls at the trigger—I found three cartridges in the pistol, and two recently discharged, and I found 45 cartridges making up the packet of 50—one of them was a difficult make, and had no name on it; the others are Kynoch's—they are all the same size—the fact of having injured his friend should have a sober effect on him; it would upon me—when I arrested him I did not tell him that I believed his friend was seriously hurt—I think I never expressed any opinion to him as to the extent of the injury—he said "I wish I was in his place"—I am not prepared to say that he said it regretfully—when I went to the deceased I found that he had just gone through a serve operation, and he had not recovered from the effects of ether that had been given him—I asked him some questions, and took notes—these are the notes in pencil on the side of the paper—I afterwards wrote out the statement on the same sheet of paper—I did not read the notes to Mr. Graham—these are the notes. (Read: "I told him he must pay the 600l., and he then shot at me. He got revolver from bedroom—stood 8 feet off—first shot—friend—600l. lost—came in cab—met at Bodega 4.30—conversation in cab—wife—cross—drinking—you have hit me—not in house the dispute")—the notes are extremely brief—the statement was taken from memory; very much—he did not allege any dispute in the house—before saying to the prisoner that he might put a few question I had read the statement three times, first to the deceased, then to the prisoner, and then again to the deceased in the prisoner's presence—I should not have known that the deceased had gone through a severe

operation, except from once or twice an expression of pain—I should not have known it from his countenance—I fully understood that it was a severe trial to his system—I do not recollect the prisoner saying "I have always been your friend"—or "Have I ever had any misunderstanding with you?")—he did not refer to the length of their acquaintance, not tangibly—15 years was not mentioned.

Re-examined. The question the prisoner put was "Have I ever had any wrong words with you before?"—I wrote that question down immediately after leaving the theatre—I am sure that he used the word "before."

CYRIL WILLIAM JECKS . I was house surgeon at University College Hospital on Monday evening, 21st November, when about 8.15 I saw Mr. Graham—I at once proceeded to examine him—I loosened his things, and at once saw the wound in his side; it went right through—I saw from the trousers that there was a hole in front, but not behind—the clothes were searched, and I found the bullet in the coat—I saw no burning of the trousers at the place the bullet had entered—there was a very slight discolouration of both sides—there was some blackening round the wound, probably from powder; I could not say for certain—I attended to him; he was operated on—about half-past 9 I had him carried into the operating theatre—he had ether given to him at that time—I was present about 12 o'clock at night, when the inspector came and saw him—I heard the inspector ask him questions, and afterwards read the statement over to him—at that time Mr. Graham was perfectly conscious—the prisoner was brought in, and the statement was read over again, and signed by Mr. Graham, myself, the inspector, and the police officer—after that the inspector said the prisoner might put one or two questions to him—the prisoner seemed to try and push his way past Inspector Pinhorn to get to Graham to ask some questions or make some statement; then Pinhorn suggested that any question should be put through him—I heard the prisoner put the question, but I could not remember the exact words of it; it was to the effect whether they had ever had any quarrel, and Mr. Graham answered "He is right"—Mr. Graham remained in the hospital under my care and that of the other surgeons there—he was not in a dangerous state all the time he was there; he did as well as we could possibly expect for some days—on Friday he got rapidly worse; he was there five days—he had been seen from time to time by his friends—after he died, I was present at the post-mortem—the cause of death was peritonitis, resulting from the wound—one of the intestines had been injured—at the post-mortem I found an old bullet in his chest—he said we should I find it there, and we did—there was a scar, and embedded in the chest was an old bullet that had probably been there for years, I should say certainly for months—that was a small conical bullet, smaller than this, a pistol bullet.

Cross-examined. This is my signature—the first operation was a very mild one—the severe one was after his statement, at 1 o'clock in the morning—we thought the first bullet had not penetrated the abdomen—we put him under ether—he had recovered from the ether; he was drowsy, but conscious—that was a shock to the system.

By the COURT. After the severe operation I do not think he was well enough to have been examined by a Magistrate; he was in a very dangerous condition.

By SIR, CHARLES RUSSELL. He was in a very dangerous condition the next day—the operation is one of the most dangerous possible—the second operation was about two hours after the first—the first was at half-past 9 o'clock, and lasted half an hour, and the second was at half-past 1 o'clock, and lasted at hour and a half—I believe he saw his friends for a few minutes.

SIR CHARLES RUSSELL stated that the prisoner was desirous of making a statement. MR. JUSTICE STEPHEN said that the rule he had laid down was that if a prisoner was desirous of making a statement he must make the statement before his learned Counsel spoke, and that the result of the statement was that it gave a reply to the other side.

The prisoner then made the following statement:—I have known Mr. Graham the deceased, personally for 15 years; we have always been the best of friends, and have never had a word to mar our friendship in any way. I have always lent him my money. We have always befriended each other in every way; he has dined at my house six or seven different times, and since his arrival in London we have been in one another's company nearly every day. I met him at the Bodega on Monday, the 21st November, by appointment, a little after 4. I met Mr. Howe, a gentleman, a friend of mine. Mr. Howe got up and left for a moment, and went to the W. C.; after he was gone Graham said, "How about that 600l.?" I said "I am not in a position to talk to you now about it." I said to him "Come, let us go." I did not wish to speak to Howe. We went to the Criterion bar. We met Marshall and Stratton and a gentleman from the Moore and Burgess Minstrels; we had a drink there, and while we were there Mr. Howe came in and drank with us. Then Mr. Graham and I went down to the Leicester bar at Leicester Square; we had a drink there. We had a conversation in the Leicester bar about horses. He was going to Manchester, and I advanced him 25l. to go to the races. I had advanced him money. He owed me when he died about 60l. We went back again to the Criterion, where we met the same party we had been talking together with, Mr. Stratton and Mr. Marshall, and we had a drink again. Then Mr. Howe came over and said, "I did not think it of you. I don't think you intend to pay that money." I said "I am not in a position to pay it." I walked away from him and sat down at the table to have a drink with Mr. Graham. He called a friend of his over, I think a gentleman named Hyams, interested in some way with a New York paper; he introduced me to him; we all three had drink. Howe came and sat next to me and made some remark to me, I have forgotten what it was. That passed all off. He still kept talking about 600l., so I remember getting up and calling Mr. Graham. It was, I suppose, a little after 7. We went then downwards to Leicester bar again; we had a drink or two there and came back and took a cab, I think it was in front of the Piccadilly Restaurant. Coming home in the cab our conversation was of horse-racing, and if he saw anything that was good while he was at the races he was to send me a wire and I was to lay in the pool. We were talking about the riots in Trafalgar Square. He remarked that no more people were killed, I remarked that the reason why no more people were killed was because policemen don't carry firearms. There was talk of firearms. He said he had one at home. I said I had one I would show him. When we got home I remember coming in the house—I can't say exactly when I did get in the house, but when I got in the house I had

taken my clothes off, and my wife was talking to me of being in liquor. We both sat down to table, he on one side and me on the other, and Mr. Graham and me were laughing about my wife speaking to me about being drunk, and then I got up and went into the bedroom to wash my hands. I cannot say how long I was in the room, but the pistol was lying on the mantel-piece; I picked it up. As I stood at the door it went off; how it went off only One can tell, and that is God Almighty. I had no more idea how the pistol went off; the farthest from my mind was to harm my friend; we never had a word whatever. I was beside myself; I stood in that position. I cannot say how long I remained there. I got to the door. I found myself standing at the door. At the time I recovered myself I heard my wife talking downstairs. I went downstairs; I saw Graham and my wife and some people in the room. I remember my wife asking me for the pistol and me going with the policeman; they took me out of there and brought me to the station; I remember going there in a cab. I don't know how long I stayed at the station-house; they did not lock me up, they put me in a room. Mr. Pinhorn came to me and said "You will have to go to the hospital, Mr. Graham is going to make a statement." We waited downstairs in the hall with Mr. Leake and the constable about 20 minutes. Then Mr. Pinhorn came and the constable read the statement to me in the room. When he had read the statement over to me, I said "This is not so, it is a mistake. I want to talk to my friend." He said, "He is very low, you must not ask but one or two questions." I went in; when I got inside I started to talk to him about how the thing occurred, and Mr. Pinhorn said "You have got to ask your questions through me." Then I said "George, have we ever had a quarrel or a misunderstanding in our lives?" and he said" He is right." Then I started to put the next question. I said "Have not I always been your friend?" and he did answer the question. Graham said "Yes." Just as he said "Yes" Pinhorn pushed me into the hall and brought me in a cab back to the station-house. While in the cab and station-house I talked and told my story to I don't know how many policemen there. While in the station-house I asked the sergeant for my counsel, Mr. Roupell. They told me he would be in plenty of time in the morning. That is all I have got to say.

GUILTY .— Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.

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