11th December 1905
Reference Numbert19051211-118
VerdictGuilty > unknown
SentenceImprisonment > penal servitude

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118. HUGH WATT (49) , Unlawfully soliciting and endeavouring to persuade Herbert Marshall, James Shuttle, and Thomas Worley to kill and murder Julia Watt.


MR. HORACE AVORY , K. C., and MR. MUIR Defended.

THOMAS BATEMAN HOUSTON . I am a clerk in the Probate and Divorce Registry of the High Court of Justice—I produce certain sealed and certified copies of proceedings in that Court, namely, a petition for divorce, dated October 11th, 1895, in which the petitioner is Julia Watt and the respondent the prisoner, on the ground of adultery with a lady, not connected with this case—there was a decree for judicial separation on May 21st, 1896, on the ground that the respondent had been guilty of adultery, but not of cruelty—I produce another petition of Julia Watt against the prisoner, dated November 29th, 1900, in which a decree of judicial separation is prayed on the ground of adultery with Lady Violet Beauchamp—that was dismissed on January 15th, 1901, by consent, each party paying its own costs—I produce a further petition of Julia Watt against the prisoner, dated April 18th, 1901, originally for a decree of judicial separation, but subsequently amended to a petition, in which a decree of divorce was prayed on the ground of cruelty, and adultery with Lady Violet Beauchamp—the decree nisi in amended form was pronounced on March 5th, 1903, but since that time no steps as regards making it absolute have been taken—I produce a certified sealed copy of a petition in which Sir Reginald Beuchamp was the petitioner. Lady Violet the respondent, and the prisoner the co-respondent, dated December 18th,

1900—on May 7th, 1901, a decree in that suit was pronounced, which on November 25th, 1901, was made absolute.

Cross-examined. I also produce the proceedings relating to Herbert Marshall—on January 20th, 1899, a petition was filed by Herbert Augustus Marshall against his wife, and there was a decree nisi on June 12th, 1899, which was rescinded on the intervention of the Queen's Proctor on January 29th, 1900, on the ground that divers material facts respecting the conduct of the petitioner in the said suit had not been brought before the Court; "that during May, June, and July, 1899, the petitioner had habitually committed adultery with a woman named Mrs. Williamson at 35, Ladbroke Gardens"—the decree was never made absolute.

RICHARD OWEN ROBERTS . I am an official of the Judgment Department of the High Courts of Justice, and produce the original proceedings in an action of Mrs. Julia Watt against Violet Beauchamp, the original writ being dated July 26th, 1901, claiming damages from the defendant for libel—the solicitors for the plaintiff were Messrs. Charles Russell & Co.—that action was heard and I produce the original judgment dated October 30th, 1902, for £5,000 after verdict—those damages were reduced by the Court of Appeal to £1,500 on June 17th, 1903—I have no record at all of the House of Lords appeal, because the judgment stands, as it is one of reduction of damages.

HENRY JEPHSON BREWER . I am a registered medical practitioner—I have been attending Henry Drummond at 96, Holly Street, Dalston—I last saw him this morning—he is suffering from acute tuberculosis, and it is absolutely impossible for him to be here to-day; it would be quite dangerous.

By the COURT. I am afraid acute tuberculosis is never likely to be cured.

Cross-examined. He has been suffering from this for the last five weeks; I have been attending him for about the last month—I had never attended him before that—he is almost always in bed; he gets up for a few hours of an afternoon and then sits in a chair; he cannot walk at all—I cannot say with absolute certainty, but I am afraid he will never come out of doors again—he says he has only been ill for about six weeks—he must have been suffering for some slight period longer than that, but it may be quite rapid.

By the COURT. In an acute form it may be quite rapid.

HENRY FOWLER (Sergeant, Metropolitan Police). I was present on August 25th at Marlborough Street Police Court when Henry Drummond gave evidence—the prisoner was present, represented by Mr. Freke Palmer, who cross-examined Drummond.

HERBERT AUGUSTUS MARSHALL . I live at 5, Hanger Lane, Ealing, and am in partnership with Mr. Sweeney at 5, Regent Street, as inquiry agents—I have been in partnership with him for nearly two years—on the evening of August 9th Mr. Bicknell called at the office and made an appointment; I did not see him—I did not see him the next day—I had some conversation with Mr. Sweeney—about 11 a.m. on August 10th Mr. Sweeney introduced the prisoner to me at the office; that was the first

time I had seen him—he did not say anything as to the object for which he was there on that day; they went out together after the introduction—Mr. Sweeney returned alone—on August 11th the prisoner had an interview with me at the office—he gave us instructions to watch his wife, Mrs. Julia Watt, who lived at 15, Chapel Street; he said he wanted the life she was leading found out and we discussed the question of terms—this document (Ex. A), dated August 11th, 1905, was drawn up in his presence—it is in my writing—he read it through afterwards, signed it, and left the office—he came back about twenty minutes afterwards and made an interlineation (Read): 5, Regent Street, London, S.W., August 11th, 1905. Dear Sirs,—I hereby instruct you to take such steps as you may deem expedient to find out the mode of living of Mrs. Watt, of 15, Chapel Street, and, if possible, to induce her to make absolute the decree nisi she obtained against me, and I agree to pay you your usual charges f one guinea per each officer engaged, together with the out-of-pocket expenses, and I further agree that if you are successful in bringing about the decree nisi being made absolute and a settlement of all disputes, to pay you by way of a bonus the sum of £1,000. Yours faithfully, Hugh Watt," addressed to "Sweeney & Marshall, 5, Regent Street"—he came back and interlined the words "and a settlement of all disputes"—the bonus of £1,000 was the prisoner's own suggestion—I saw him next about 11 a.m. on August 12th at the office—he spoke of the immoral life that he said Mrs. Watt was living; that he had had a girl he was keeping and had been keeping for two years, whom he would produce at the proper time to speak as to these acts, and he likewise showed me a typewritten post card of a very scurrilous nature which he said had evidently come from Mrs. Watt and we must find out, as he would lock her up—I do not think he said anything about litigation on that occasion—he told us we were to watch her and find out the character of the people who visited her; that we were to get in with the servants—we did watch her—shortly after he left, we got a telephone message from him—he seemed very excited and said that Lady Violet Beauchamp had been assaulted by hooligans just off Sloane Street at the instigation of Mrs. Watt and we really must do something in the matter—I told him he must leave the matter in our hands and we would do our best, and if he did not approve of what we were doing he could take his business elsewhere—he said, "Come and see me at 72, Knightsbridge, at 9.30 on Monday"—I kept that appointment and he told me that I must see Mrs. Watt, and gave me £10 in gold for expenses—I did not give him any receipt—nothing else took place at that interview—about 3.30 p.m. on that day I called at 15, Chapel Street, which was a house to let, furnished—I was shown over the house by a servant named Maloney—I saw Mrs. Watt and had some conversation with her—about 5 p.m. the same day I saw the prisoner and told him that Mrs. Watt was very much frightened at his violent behaviour towards her on the occasion of his visit there, which was made the subject matter of the prisoner applying for a summons at Westminster—he did not say anything to that—I told him that Mrs. Watt had told me that he (the prisoner) had offered her £600 a year to give up the settlement of 1901—I do not

think he said very much as to that then—the prisoner had mentioned that settlement to me before my interview with Mrs. Watt—he showed me another post card, a written one, of a scurrilous character, but not quite so bad as the first one he showed me, and he said, "Something must be done. You must really find out where these come from"—I said, "We will do our best"—he made an appointment for me to see him the next day at 72 Knightsbridge, at 5 p.m.—I went there the next day and saw him—he began talking about Mrs. Watt; he spoke of the occasion on which he had been to 15, Chapel Street, and said that during the altercation he struck Mrs. Watt over the left breast with his left arm, but that owing to the muscles of his left arm having been hurt or strained he was not; able to strike an effective blow; that he swung round to give her the right and finish her, and just then Mary Maloney came in at the doorway—he then asked me if I could recommend him a solicitor who could deal with these post cards—he said he had been robbed by solicitors, and mentioned various names—he mentioned that he had given Bernard Abrahams £2,000 to murder Mrs. Watt; that he, Abrahams, and two other men went down to where Mrs. Watt was then living, but at the last moment they showed the white feather and stuck to the £2,000—I recommended him a solicitor—he said he would do for her and produced a wooden case from a roll top desk, which he unscrewed and produced a bottle containing some white liquid, which he said was chloroform—he removed the stopper, but I did not smell it—he then said, "You get Mrs. Watt to come here. We will get her downstairs, where I have a room prepared. I will give her a push, chloroform her, and when it is all over you are to go for Dr. Francis Blake, of Putney, who will certify death to be heart disease"—he said that Mrs. Watt had suffered from a weak heart—I said, "You must be mad," and at once left the place—before I left he said he would come and see me the following day—on August 16th, the following day, he telephoned me he was coming and would arrive at 11 a.m., which he did—he came to fetch the post cards which were in my possession; he only stayed a minute or two, and said, "I am coming to see you to-morrow at 11 o'clock to get the matter settled up"—on that day I seriously thought over what he said the day before, and on the next morning, August 17th, I gave some instructions to McKenna and Drummond, who were in my employ—the prisoner came about 11 a.m. into my private room—he said he had been dining in Devonshire Place the evening before and he passed the house in Chapel Street, and that it looked very dirty—I said, "Have you thought matters over? Is there no other way out of it?—he replied, "No; we must snuff her out. You get her to come to 72, Knightsbridge; we will talk about the letters and induce her to come downstairs. I will give her a push, chloroform her, and when all is over you are to go for Dr. Francis Blake, of Putney, and I will have her cremated within twenty-four hours, and I will give you the sum of £5,000"—he further said, "We will pour essence of peppermint between her teeth to take away the smell of the chloroform"—I said, "Have you told Dr. Blake about this?" and he said, "Yes, and Dr. Blake replied, 'I will not have anything to do with it. You must not have anything to

do with it, but you must get another man.' You must get Maloney to take her discharge and help us"—I said, "You must give me twenty-four hours to think the matter over, and I will give you an answer, yes or no"—he went without making any further appointment—a minute or two afterwards I went to Scotland Yard alone and saw Acting Superintendent Fox, getting there about 11.45 a.m., perhaps a little earlier than that; it was 11.45 a.m. when I saw Mr. Fox—I had an interview with him—I saw another officer who took my statement down—I left with Sergeants Ball and Fowler shortly after 12, and went to 5, Regent Street, with them, remaining in their company till we got to Marlborough Street Police Court—on arriving there, I should think about 1.30 p.m., we found the Magistrate had adjourned and we waited until he sat again—the information which had been prepared and signed by me at Scotland Yard was laid before him and I swore to it—this was before 2 p.m., before the public had come back into Court—the Magistrate intimated that a warrant would be granted and we waited till it was made out—I went back to the office, arriving there about 2.30 p.m.—I was told that the prisoner had telephoned me when I arrived at the office from Scotland Yard with the officers before going to Marlborough Street—I had a communication with the prisoner on the telephone, when he said, "Send me in your account. I am going to the country. I will see the solicitor about the letters"—I asked him to come and see me at 5 p.m.—then I went to Marlborough Street—on coming back from Marlborough Street I did not have any further telephonic communication from him—he did not come at 5 p.m.—this bottle (Produced) is very like the one the prisoner showed to me, and this is the case (Produced) in which it was—from the time that the prisoner spoke to me in my private room on August 17th until I got to Scotland Yard after he left, I had no communication with either Drummond or McKenna.

Cross-examined. I am employed to find and search out matters and I am paid so much a day per man, which is the ordinary rule—I do not think it is to our interest to keep the inquiry going as long as possible; we like to finish our inquiries as soon as we possibly can; we are looking to future recommendation—we are never paid by results or by a lump sum; this bonus was quite an unusual thing; we did not ask for it—Mr. Sweeney had been at Scotland Yard; he came to me at the beginning of last year, two or three months after he left there—I suggested to the prisoner drawing up the agreement—I left out about the settlement of disputes, but he corrected it afterwards—he did not take it away or make a copy of it—he came back and said he would like to make one or two alterations, and I at once handed it to him—we should require to employ men to find out Mrs. Watt's mode of living—I quite understood that his desire at that time was to have a friendly settlement of all the disputes—when asking him to sign it I did not say it was the usual agreement, nor did Mr. Sweeney, who was there at the time, say so to my knowledge—Mr. Sweeney went away directly afterwards to the country, where he had a case—I did not telephone to the prisoner on that same day after he had signed the agreement that I had heard of or knew that there was a board

outside 15, Chapel Street, saying that it was to let to my knowledge—it is absolutely impossible for me to say whether I did do so; I have no recollection of it—how I knew about the board was that Mr. Watt told me—I will not swear I did not, because I cannot recollect it at this length of time; to the best of my belief I did not—I telephoned to him that Mrs. Watt was going to Ostend, and he asked me to come and see him the next morning—he did not say that he did not believe it and give me forty-eight hours to finish my inquiries and negotiations, or the matter was ended, nor words to that effect—I swear I did not call upon him in the evening, nor did I have any conversation with him whatever—there was a conversation on the 12th at my office about Ostend; he did not say he did not believe my story about Mrs. Watt going to Ostend; he said he did not think it very likely—he did not know more than I did except that I reported to him that she was going to Ostend—I said that I would want two men to follow her if she went—I asked him how long she generally stayed away and he said, "Two months," and wanted to know what the cost would be—I said, "Somewhere about £250 if she stayed two months"—I did not say I wanted £250 for the men to follow her to Ostend—he did not reply that his solicitor, Mr. Bicknell, had advised him to pay me only out-of-pocket expenses; he never mentioned Mr. Bicknell's name to me—he did not say that he would give me £10 for my out-of-pocket expenses and that I could either take that or go about my business, nor did he say that to me when he gave me the £10 on the 11th—he did not say either on the 12th or the 14th that he would give me forty-eight hours to make some progress with my negotiations or I could go about my business; he never used such words to me on any occasion—he did not name a time within which I was to do something tangible or go about my business—at no time did he express dissatisfaction with my conduct in the matter—we did not look upon the agreement as a very valuable business; we get so much of it—I suggest that with that document in my possession on the 12th I suggested to the prisoner that he could take his business away if he was not satisfied with what we were doing—it was not in consequence of his having complained that I said that—I did not look upon his saying that we really must do something as a complaint—when we are instructed we usually have matters left in our hands to deal with and we do the best we can for our clients—Mrs. Watt never went to Ostend to my knowledge—I did not tell the prisoner who it was that told me she was going—I did not say to him on August 14th that I had now discovered that she was not going to Ostend, but was going on a motor trip; I am quite sure I never said anything about a motor trip to him—I never told him that I had discovered she was not going to Ostend—I did not tell him on the 14th that I had been all over the house with Mrs. Watt; I told him I had been all over the house with Maloney—I got in as an intending tenant—I did not tell him that I was very hopeful of success in my mission after having seen Mrs. Watt; I said I was not very hopeful—I certainly did not tell him that I thought I had been so successful that had I had the agreement I could have induced her to sign it—there was nothing said

about the agreement that day—on no date was anything said between the prisoner and myself about an agreement for Mrs. Watt to sign—he did not produce to me a document which he had drawn up and wanted me to get Mrs. Watt to sign, nor did he tell me the terms of it—I understood what he was proposing was that Mrs. Watt should agree to accept £600 a year from the present time in lieu of her reversionary interest under this deed, but he never said anything to me about it—I understood he wanted everything settled—I got the idea that the prisoner was going to offer Mrs. Watt £600 a year from Mrs. Watt herself, and she said she would have nothing whatever to do with it—when he gave me the £10 he said, "You will want some money to go on with"; he volunteered it without any request from me—Mrs. Watt never complained of having been assaulted by the prisoner—I did not tell the prisoner on the 15th that I had just come from Chapel Street, where I had had another interview with Mrs. Watt—I did not tell him that I had had a conversation with her regarding their differences and that I thought I would succeed in time—I never led him to believe that I had any hope of success; I led him to believe it was a very difficult matter owing to Mrs. Watt having said that she would have nothing to do with the £600 a year he had offered her—on that day he did not say that he did not believe a word of my stories about her movements; or that he had no confidence whatever in my statements, and as I had nothing tangible to report he did not wish to see me again—he did not open a desk for the purpose of showing me the document he wanted Mrs. Watt to sign—I never saw any such document—I think the desk was in fact open—I did not take up the wooden bottle and say, "What is this?" and he did not say, "That is chloroform which Lady Violet or I have used for some medical purposes"—I had certainly not up to that date led him to believe that I was a person prepared to carry out murders at short notice, nor have I advertised that; I never advertise at all—I certainly say that, without ascertaining what sort of person I was, he suddenly proposed that I should help him in murdering Mrs. Watt—I did not wait long enough to inform Mrs. Watt or the authorities—I did not on the 16th telephone to him that I had important information to give him and ask him to call upon me—I think it was on the 17th that I asked him whether he had said anything to Dr. Blake; it was the last part of the conversation that he told me Dr. Blake had refused to have anything to do with it—in the same conversation he told me to go to Dr. Blake, but admitted nevertheless when I asked him, that Dr. Blake had said he would have nothing whatever to do with it—when he called upon me on the 17th he did not say, "Have you anything to report?" nor words to that effect; nor did he say, "As far as you are concerned, I suppose you can do nothing further in the matter"—I did not make any reference to a motor-car in reference to Mrs. Watt, nor did the prisoner say, after some discussion. "I have no faith in you at all, and your statements are the purest rubbish," and I did not reply, "Very well, you shall have your bill made out"—nothing was said about my bill whilst he was talking to me—he did not leave the room very angry—up to that time he never said if he was pleased

or otherwise; he certainly did appear quite satisfied with what I was doing for him—I did not make a note of the conversation—I am quite certain he used the expression that the curtains seemed very dirty when he had passed Chapel Street—He left a few minutes' after 11—when I returned to the office from Scotland Yard it would be somewhere about 1 p.m.—my clerk then informed me that the prisoner had telephoned; he may have telephoned at 11.45 a.m., but I do not know—my clerk did not give me any message; he simply said the prisoner had rung me up—when the prisoner telephoned me I understood he was making an end of all the business, as he was going into the country, and for no other reason—Drummond has not been well for a long time; he has been away from the office about six weeks—I gave instructions to McKenna to take written notes of what he had heard that he thought important—I did say at the Police Court, "McKenna had no instructions to make a report, but he had a report ready when I came, back"—there is a difference between notes and a report; McKenna put his notes in the form' of a full report—I take it that a note is a record of something that took place at a time and a report would be made up from those notes afterwards—McKenna made the report on his own initiative—I never saw the notes which he made, only the report—I do not know if the notes are in existence—I did not instruct Drummond to make notes—from first to last I never asked the prisoner for money on account of this business—I had been engaged in this kind of work ten to eleven years, starting by myself as "H. Marshall"—in 1900 I sold my business to a limited company—I had 500 shares, the subscribed capital of the company being £1,000, subscribed by a man named Hanmar, a great friend of mine, and a very wealthy man—he had the particulars of the business from me and he was very glad to subscribe to it—the object of the company was to carry on the various objects mentioned in the Articles of Association, such as financial business, detective work, collection of debts and so on—lending money may have been in the Articles—three years afterwards it went into voluntary liquidation with no debts, the object being that I wanted the thing to be carried on under my own name and Mr. Sweeney's—Mr. Sweeney preferred not to come in when it was a company—Mr. Hanmar has still got his £1,000 in the business; he did not ask for it back—October, 1904, may have been the date of the liquidation—Mr. Sweeney was not in partnership with me in the first place; alter the liquidation he went into partnership with me—I did not tell the prisoner that Mrs. Watt had telegraphed me in the name of Kerrlane, Hanger Lane, Ealing—Kerrlane is the name of the lady I am living with at Hanger Lane, Ealing—I did not swear at the Police Court that she was my wife—I did not swear, "It was in 1896 or 1897 that the divorce in my own case was made absolute"—I swore that it was not made absolute—my deposition was read over to me and I signed it—I did not swear that in spite of its being on my deposition; the word "not" must have been left out and unnoticed by me when I signed the deposition—I said at the Police Court, "My former wife has died"—I swear I do not know that she is alive now—I also said, "And I am living with my second wife and not

free to marry. The intervention of the Queen's Proctor was successful but my wife afterwards died"—I have not seen her for a very long time—I saw her last in the beginning of last year—the ground for my swearing my wife had died was an anonymous communication I received, saying that she was dead, at the beginning of this year, which I tried to verify—I did not keep it—I showed it to no one—I made all the inquiries I could think of, but I could not trace her—I believe she has been living ever since with the man on whose account I obtained the decree nisi, but I do not. know of my own knowledge—I have seen that man and conversed with him on the subject of my wife—I have asked to see her, but I have not seen her—he has not told me that she is alive, nor has he told me she is dead; I have never asked him—it was only the other day that I saw him—I did ask him whether she was alive and he told me she was alive and living with him—when I said that I did not know that she was alive, I meant of my own knowledge; I have not seen her—I believe she is alive from what you have just said—I asked this man one simple question: whether she was alive or dead, and he did not answer me—I asked him if she was alive, could I see her, and he did not answer—I did not ask him whether she had been subpoenaed to appear here—that is my wife (Pointing); I do not know where she has been living—I was not living in adultery at the time I obtained this decree nisi from my wife—the Queen's Proctor intervened on the ground that I was living with a Mrs. Williamson, and the Court was satisfied that that was true—Mrs. Williamson was the widow of a clergyman and possessed of considerable property—I became acquainted with her before January, 1899; I was carrying on this business at Regent Street at the time—she was brought to me by a friend to make some inquiries with regard to her property—soon after I promised her marriage in the event of my getting my divorce—I did not live with her on the strength of that promise—after I failed in the divorce I lived with her at 35, Lad-broke Gardens, but never before—I do not remember receiving any notice that the Queen's Proctor was going to intervene—I did not get it until the last moment, when we were in Court for the purpose of the decree absolute—I did not fight the case, because I did not want to bring this lady's name in—I cannot tell you what the Queen's Proctor alleged against me—I may have instructed a solicitor to write to the Queen's Proctor saying I did not intend to have the decree made absolute; it is such a long time ago that I do not remember—I did not know that the allegation was that at the time the decree nisi was obtained I was living in adultery with this lady—I knew that the charge was adultery, but I did not know the time—I lived openly with Mrs. Williamson after the decree nisi was rescinded—I did not live with her secretly or in any way before—she came down to live with me at Torrington; I did not induce her to—at my inducement she purchased two houses called "The Warren" and "The Lodge"—she provided some of the money for it—I provided £300 or £400—the conveyances were taken in my own name—I had a very good business in Marlborough Street as my livelihood—it is quite right that I had no means of livelihood then; I had been very ill from fever—I was living on this lady until I could get something to do—I opened a banking account

in my own name with some of her money—I has none of my own then—I did not induce her to raise money for my benefit—I know she did raise some money—I think in 1900, soon after, she was obliged to sell "The Warren" in order to secure an overdraft at the bank—I think I had left by June 30th, 1900, when the account was closed with a debit balance—I cannot recollect whether I knew at the time I left that the account was overdrawn—I transferred everything back to Mrs. Williamson, deeds and conveyances—this is a cheque given to me by her for £2,000 to invest (Produced)—I invested it in a theatrical company—the money was lost—she gave me a further cheque for £200 on May 5th, 1899, to pay some accounts of hers in connection with the estate—she made the cheque out to me because there were a great many accounts to be settled up in reference to her late husband's debts—I swear it was used for her purposes, and not mine—I left in the middle of 1900, July or August—I did not leave in consequence of her discovering that I was carrying on an intrigue or intrigues with other women while I was living with her—she did accuse me of it, but I was not doing so—she did discover some letters, but they were old ones—she did not turn me out, nor request me to go—I thought I had much rather go—I left everything behind; I did not want to take anything with me—I did not leave her practically denuded of all her property—I had not had it; she had spent a considerable sum, but not for my benefit—I was not living on-her; I had certain moneys of my own—her solicitors were Grossman, Pritchard & Co., and I placed myself in communication with them to restore the property to her—I swear I went to see them—to the best of my belief I went voluntarily to them for the purpose of offering to restore this property to her, but it is a long time ago, and I suffered from brain fever; I will not swear to it—the solicitors called upon me to assign over to her the conveyances of "The Warren" and "The Lodge"—I do not recollect pledging one of these properties for the purpose of borrowing money; I may have—now you have mentioned the Standard Assurance Co., I remember having borrowed £175 from them—I believe Mrs. Williamson had to pay that amount—subject to that I reconveyed it—I do not recollect refusing to reconvey this property to her, nor demanding a sum of £250—they gave me voluntarily £250—Mr. Pritchard told me if I reconveyed he would give me £250; I had given up my business in Marlborough Street—he gave it to me out of the estate—I will not swear that I did not refuse £50 and say I would take nothing else than £250, because I do not recollect it—I do not recollect calling at their office on September 18th, 1900, and stating that I would go down to Torrington and create a disturbance unless arrangements were come to forthwith for the payment of this money; I cannot swear anything, but I am perfectly certain it did not take place—I did not go on to say that under any circumstances I would take steps to have the guardian-ship of the children changed—Mrs. Williamson had children of her own by her first husband, of whom she was guardian under his will—I never said that unless she paid me this money I would make public her relations with me and so deprive her of the guardianship of these children—nothing to my recollection, was said about the guardianship of the children—I

know that she had to pay me £250 in order to get her property reconveyed to her—I did not have £4,000 or £5,000 out of her—I do not recollect having some of her securities in my name besides the deeds—I did not threaten the solicitors about the guardianship of the children, nor did I tell them I knew something that would deprive her of her guardian-ship—I cannot explain anything that Mr. Pritchard wrote to Mrs. Williamson (Extract of letter from Mr. Pritchard to Mrs. Williamson read: "As regards the guardianship, I can only say if he can prove what he says he can, you would be deprived of the guardianship as a matter of course, and I think the fact of your association with him would of itself be sufficient")—I did not tell the solicitors that I could prove something that would deprive her of the guardianship—("It is mainly to your interest, as I said before, to come to some amicable arrangement. If you do not there will be a public scandal")—I cannot explain that; I was not threatening to make a public scandal—I received this letter on September 22nd, 1900, from Mr. Pritchard (Stating that Mrs. Williamson was almost without means, but that she would, upon his (Marshall) signing the document making over the houses to her, authorise him to give him (Marshall) a cheque for £50, and, should the houses sell at the amount anticipated, she would be willing to give him a further sum, making up the amount he (Marshall) mentioned")—I see that in the first place she tried to induce me to accept £50; I should not have recollected it if you had not read that letter—I never mentioned any amount—I do not know that I ever wrote to tell him that I had not done so—I cannot give any explanation of his writing that letter to me—I think if you read a letter from him to me afterwards it would put a very different complexion on your questions to me; I have lost it—it is in Mr. Pritchard's letter-book—I cannot recollect the date of it.

Friday, December 15th.

H. A. MARSHALL (Further cross-examined), I obtained a sum of £350 from Mrs. Williamson for the purpose of lending it to a Mrs. Baghouse—when the question of the settlement of all matters between me and Mrs. Williamson arose I said that I did not know where Mrs. Baghouse was to be found; I did not know then—I do not recollect that at that time I gave an undertaking to procure repayment of that sum from Mrs. Baghouse and to pay it over to Mrs. Williamson—possibly when I received the £250 I signed an undertaking beginning in these words: "I will use my best endeavours to procure payment of the £350 due by Mrs. Baghouse and to pay same over to Mrs. Williamson or her solicitor"—I never repaid that or any portion of it; I have not had it from Mrs. Baghouse—I know where she is now; I know where she was eighteen months ago; I do not know at the present moment—the last address I knew her at was in Ealing; I think it was Castle House, Castle Hill—I may have at the time of the settlement signed a letter to be handed to Mrs. Williamson withdrawing any charges of immorality or misconduct against her; I probably did—I was not in pecuniary difficulties in 1904 and up to the beginning of 1905, and a number of bankruptcy notices were not served

against me to my recollection—I know there was a dispute with Messrs. Pedley & Mortimer about the rent of some offices at Fleet Street, but I do not remember a bankruptcy notice, but I will not swear to it—it resulted in proceedings against me—there was certainly not a bankruptcy notice served against me by Frederick James Marshall for £321 19a. 9d. I do not know anybody of that name—there was a bankruptcy notice nerved on me by Cohen & Co. for £59. but it was never proceeded with—I know the Pot Pourri, Limited, threatened a bankruptcy notice against me, but I do not remember having one—this was all in 1903 or 1904—I am not often in communication with the police I know a great number of the police personally, but not before Mr. Sweeney came to me—I never saw Inspector Hayter until I saw him at Marlborough Street—with regard to what I said yesterday about Mr. Watt telling me of his offer of £600 a year, the first conversation that arose about the £600 and giving up the settlement of 1901 came from Mrs. Watt on Monday, August 14th, and that same evening I reported to the prisoner that conversation; it was then that he told me that he was prepared to give her £600 a year if she would give up the settlement—when I said yesterday, "He never said anything to me about it," I took the question as being previous to Mrs. Watt having spoken to me about the £600.

Re-examined. I say in my deposition, "I did not tell the defendant that I had divorced my wife and that the King's Proctor had intervened; I never spoke to him about that. It is true that I divorced my wife and that the King's Proctor did intervene"—I and my wife parted fifteen years ago—a little boy I had of six years of age died and on the boy's death bed, when I was very much cut up, she confessed to me that the child was not mine, and told me who the father was—then I left—I had a daughter by the marriage also, who is with me now—my wife went to live with a Mr. Charles Cary; he was not the man who seduced my wife—neither written nor verbally did Mr. Pritchard make any charge against me of demanding £250 or that I would make a scandal—there is another letter, which was the final one from Mr. Pritchard, which I have lost; I am afraid I cannot say the contents, but I know from my point of view it was very satisfactory—the theatrical scheme I invested the £2,000 in was Pot Pourri, Limited, at the Avenue Theatre—it was invested in my name—I took shares—£1,100 was invested in that way and the rest Mrs. Williamson spent on jewellery from a Mr. Joseph, a jeweller in Westbourne Grove, which she kept—I think the banking account was first of all started at Bideford and transferred from Bideford to Torrington—I cannot say whether at Torrington I paid in money of my own or at Bideford; I certainly did at one of those places—I paid in one sum of £150 at Bideford; I cannot recollect the other sums; I left all my papers behind and I had not a chance of referring to the bank books or anything else—when the £250 was paid to me by Messrs. Crossman, Pritchard & Co. I had made no threats; I believe I made a claim for it—I was brought in contact with Mr. Sweeney over a case that I did for the Government at Gibraltar in connection with certain insurance frauds—prior to August last I had never heard of Thomas Worley or James Shuttle

—I had certainly not either from Sweeney or from any other person connected with Scotland Yard learnt the contents of any documents which were at Scotland Yard prior to August.

By the COURT. I employed two men to watch Mrs. Watt for five or six days—I did not send in any bill to the prisoner—he would not owe me much, having paid me £10—we were to get what we could in the way of being able to throw stones at Mrs. Watt and at the same time to try and negotiate with her—I did not connect the two, nor did the prisoner—he did not say that watching her mode of life would help him to bring about a settlement—I do not know how they were to work together—I do not suggest that the prisoner knew I had gone to Scotland Yard when he telephoned to my clerk—tins is one of the cheques which were drawn to pay Mr. Joseph for the jewellery for £575, but further amounts than this were paid.

JOSEPH MCKENNA . I have lived at 4, Millard Road, Stoke Newington, but I now live at 74, North Grove, Dalston—I am an assistant to Messrs. Sweeney & Marshall—I have been a police officer, and, when I retired, a sergeant in the Metropolitan Police for some twenty-five years—I entered the employ of Messrs. Sweeney & Marshall in July of last year—on the morning of August 17th Mr. Marshall gave me some instructions, Drummond, a fellow employee, being present at the time—at 11 a.m. I saw the prisoner at the office; he was shown into Mr. Marshall's room—I then called to Drummond and went to the door of the room and listened to the conversation from within—I heard the prisoner say, "I was dining at Buckingham Gate last night, and I passed by the house twice; it looks very dull"—he mentioned the address of the house as 15, Chapel Street—Mr. Marshall said, "I have been thinking over what you said to me. Is there no other way out of it, Mr. Watt?" and the prisoner said, "No, no other way, only to snuff her out"—Mr. Marshall said, "How do you propose to do it?" and the prisoner said, "You induce her to come up to my house; we can talk over the post cards. You can help me get her downstairs. I can do the job with the chloroform. When all is over we can send for Dr. Blake, who will certify death from heart disease, and then I shall give you £5,000"—Mr. Marshall said, "Have you spoken to Dr. Blake about this, Mr. Watt?" and the prisoner said, "Yes, I have, but he says that he cannot do it and that I must not do it; I must not do it; I must get a strange man. You can get Maloney to take her discharge and come to my house, and she can assist us in the matter"—Mr. Marshall then said. "Very well, Mr. Watt, give me twenty-four hours to think it over"—I heard a movement inside and we both of us came from the door very quickly—shortly after, the prisoner came out and left the offices—Mr. Marshall came out almost immediately afterwards—coming out he said to the office boy, "I am going to Scotland Yard"—he did not say a word to me with reference to what had taken place in the room, or to Drummond either—after he left I sat down and made notes of what I had heard—I told Drummond to go into another room [MR. AVORY objected that what the witness said to Drummond was inadmissible, but the COURT held it was admissible, since it was a command]

—I told him to make his own notes independently of mine of what he had heard, and he went—Mr. Marshall came back to the office with Sergeants Fowler and Ball—up to the time of their return I had had no communication with Drummond—I, Marshall and the two sergeant then went to Marlborough Street and an information was prepared to which I swore—my notes that I had made were taken as the sworn information—they were kept at the Police Court.

Cross-examined. I placed myself in a standing-up position against the door, and I saw Drummond go down on his knees to listen at the bottom of the door—neither of us have ever been asked to do this sort of thing before—I made notes in my own room just adjoining—I made no rough notes at all at the door—Mr. Marshall could not have said that I made out notes which have been destroyed or which were lost and that I only had a report—Drummond made notes also, but not at the door—I saw him writing it and I saw it there after he left—I did not see what became of it when Sergeant Fowler came; I left almost immediately with them—Drummond did not go to Marlborough Street—I said at the Police Court, "Drummond made out one. Drummond handed his written report to Sergeant Fowler. I saw Drummond's report lying on the desk, but did not read it"—it must have been a week later that Drummond handed that report to Sergeant Fowler; it was not that morning—I did not mean to convey that he handed it to Sergeant Fowler that morning—I heard the prisoner getting off his chair, so I hurriedly went away from the door—a minute might have elapsed from the time I left the door before he came out; more conversation had taken place, no doubt, because I could hear talking, but I could not understand it, having come away from the door—the last thing I heard was, "Well, give me twenty-four hours to think it over"—I am quite sure that I heard "Dr, Blake" and no Christian name—I did not hear any expression about getting Mrs. Watt cremated—I think I must say I omitted to put in that I heard about pouring essence of peppermint between her teeth; it occurs to me that I did hear that—I will rot swear I heard it; I have some slight recollection that it was said; I want to be as careful as I can—I have read in the papers that the prisoner did say that, but I do not wish to swear to it myself—there is not a word about it either in my evidence at the Police Court, or here, nor about giving her a push—I did not hear anything about the curtains looking dirty—the prisoner was there about five minutes—after leaving the police I went to Slater's, being with them a year and eight months; I left when the trouble commenced, or was on—I cannot swear whether I went downstairs between the time of the prisoner going away and Mr. Marshall coming back with Fowler and Ball—I was there when they came back—if I had gone out, I had returned—the prisoner came at a minute or two to 11—I did not go out at the same time as Mr. Marshall—I cannot remember whether I went out afterwards—soon after 11 I generally go out to have a little refreshment, but I do not remember—I received a telephone message from the prisoner about 12, or after—I cannot say the time—it was to the effect that we were to send in our account, as he was going into the country—he asked me if Mr. Marshall was there—I said, "No," and he said, "When

he comes back tell him to send in his bill at once, as I am going away in the country this afternoon"—the office is on the second floor—the prisoner had gone down the stairs before Mr. Marshall came out of the room.

Re-examined. The prisoner left about 11.5, and Mr. Marshall came out one or two minutes afterwards in just enough time for the prisoner to get down the stairs—I cannot say whether the prisoner went away in a cab or walked—I do not know whether he telephoned from home or some-where else—it would be about noon when he telephoned; that is as near as I can fix it.

(Drummond's deposition, read): Henry Drummond, on oath, saith as follows:—"Of 96, Hollis Street, Dalston, clerk, employed by Messrs. Sweeney & Marshall, 5, Regent Street. I know the firm was engaged on some inquiries of defendant, whom I knew at the office as "the Captain." On the morning of August 17th Marshall gave me certain instructions. Later on that morning defendant came to the office. He got there about 11 a.m. He was shown into Mr. Marshall's room. The door was shut. I laid on the floor and listened beneath the door. McKenna stood at the door and listened. I heard defendant commence the conversation by saying that he had been dining out at Buckingham Gate and that he had passed by the front of the house twice and the front looked very dull and dirty. Marshall said, 'I have been thinking over what you have said; don't you think there is some way out of it?' Mr. Watt said, 'The only way is to snuff her out.' Mr. Marshall asked Mr. Watt in what way he proposed to do it. Mr. Watt said, 'You must induce her to my house; I will speak to her about some post cards. You can then help her to the room and I will finish the job with some chloroform on a pocket handkerchief.' Mr. Watt also stated that he could then call in Dr. Blake. Mr. Marshall asked Mr. Watt if he mentioned the matter to Dr. Blake before and Mr. Watt said, "Yes, but the doctor said neither I nor he (the doctor) must do it; it must be done by some other man. He then said, 'When all is over I will pay you £5,000. He said Mr. Marshall must get Miss Maloney to take her discharge and get her to my house and she can assist us. Mr. Marshall said, 'Very well, you must give me twenty-four hours' notice to think this over.' That is all I heard. I thought the conversation then ended and I moved from the door, so did McKenna. I moved to a separate room and wrote out my statement; I had been instructed by Mr. McKenna to make notes. I did not see either defendant or Mr. Marshall leave. Later on two police officers came to the office, with Marshall, about 2 p.m., I believe. I had finished my notes. McKenna did not see it; Marshall did not see it until the Friday. I handed it to the police officers on Saturday when they came for it. Cross-examined. I did not give my report to the police officers on Thursday because I was not asked for it. I did not leave it lying on my desk; McKenna could not see it. If he said he did, that is not accurate; I carried it in my pocket until the Saturday. Marshall did not ask me for my report when he returned; I told him I had made one. This case was in Court on Friday before I produced my report. I had seen and read the

case in the newspapers before I produced my report. I have been with Marshall since fourteen years of age. I am clerk. I am employed on 'Confidential Inquiries' when we are a bit busy and pushed. I listened at the door, lying flat on my stomach. This is the first time I have been so employed; we have never had a case like this before in the office. I did not at any time see McKenna's report and have not seen it now. Marshall told me that defendant had made a proposition, but did not tell me what it was. Re-examined. My report was ready at 2 p.m. on the Thursday and I handed it to the police the first time they asked me on the Saturday. (Signed) H. Drummond."

MARY FRANCES MALONEY . I am still employed by Mrs. Watt as a parlour-maid at 15, Chapel Street—in August there was a notice up at the house that it was to let, furnished or unfurnished—Marshall came on Monday, August 14th, and wished to be shown over the house and I showed him over—afterwards he saw Mrs. Watt and had a conversation with her, which I did not hear—I showed him into where she was—between 3 and 4 p.m. on August 2nd the' prisoner came when Mrs. Watt was not at home—he asked for her, and I said she was out, but I expected she would be back by 7 that evening—he returned at 7 p.m., when Mrs. Watt had just come in—he saw her—I did not hear what they said—I should think the interview between them lasted twenty or thirty minutes—between 9 and 10 a.m. on August 4th he called again—I did not let him in; I saw him in the dining-room—I was shut out at the back and he opened the window for me—Mrs. Watt was informed that he was there, waiting to see her and she came down immediately and saw him—they were together about fifteen minutes; it may be more—I went upstairs and left them in the morning-room—he came upstairs, calling, "Mary! Mary! they are, going to get the police to put me out"—I had just come out of Mrs. Watt's bedroom and kept the handle of the door in my hand—he asked me if that was Mrs. Watt's bedroom, and I said, "Yes"—I kept my hand on the handle of the door and he went down again, I following him—he passed along the hall first and then he went into the dining-room or the morning-room; I cannot say which now—Mrs. Watt had left the house then—I followed the prisoner into the morning-room—I cannot tell you the conversation between us, because it was not very nice—he made mention of his wife, not in a nice way—in the course of the conversation he said that he was a bit of a pugilist and he could knock Mrs. Watt out in ten seconds; I cannot remember exactly what he did say—he said that she had been turned from Victoria station and he asked me about her health and I said her health was all right—he said he would have her in Pentonville in a short time—I cannot remember any more—he had a paper in his hand and he purported to read to me the contents of it—I said to him that it was a pity that they did not come to some agreement and he said, "Yes, it is a pity, but it is her fault"—he said she would not settle about this affair; I did not know what the affair was—he said if she settled it, he would allow her—600 a year—he did not say what the affair was, but I had an idea what he meant—I had never seen him until I saw him on

August 2nd—he said if I had any influence with that woman would I try and use it in getting her to try and settle—he said that he would advise me to leave the house, as he meant to make it hot for Mrs. Watt—he was there some time when the telephone bell rang—before that happened Mrs. Watt returned to the front door and told me to remain in the room with the prisoner; she had no hat on—she may have been twenty minutes gone; I did not see her go out—she did not come in; she went across to the public library again in Chapel Street—a few minutes after the telephone bell rang, and I answered it and found that it was Mrs. Watt's solicitor, who asked me if Mrs. Watt was there—I said, "No, but Mr. Watt is here. Do you want to speak to him?"—he said, "Yes, send Mr. Watt to the telephone"—I handed the receiver to the prisoner—at first he refused to take it—he asked me who was there and I told him—after a bit he took it from me and he held a conversation through the telephone—I think it was Mr. O'Malley at the other end—I heard what the prisoner said—after the conversation was over he had a few seconds' conversation with me, and he walked up and down the hall—he stayed a few minutes at the front door and after a bit went away—I saw nothing more of him until at Marlborough Street—his manner that morning was very excited.

Cross-examined. I did not know there had been a violent scene between them on August 4th, because I went upstairs—I did not hear loud voices, because I was two storeys above—when I saw the prisoner afterwards he said that she had pushed him, and he appeared very excited and angry I—I saw in the papers that he applied at the Police Court for a summons for assault—I remember now that the prisoner never told me she had pushed him; I learnt of that from the papers—he called me "Mary" because he heard Mrs. Watt calling me "Mary"—I am generally called "Mary" in the house—I certainly do not expect to be called "Miss Maloney"; not in my position, anyway—as far as I know, when the prisoner saw Mrs. Watt at 7 p.m. on August 2nd it was a perfectly friendly meeting—he went away quietly—the paper that he had in his hand on August 4th was like that (Notepaper produced)—I did not handle it; he read it to me; at least, he made an attempt to read it; he read part of it, I believe—I would recognise it if I saw the words of it—this is not what he read to me (Paper produced)—he never said anything about 1901—he said something about paving Mrs. Watt £600 a year, but not for life—I understood that was to settle the affair—I did not see him try to assault her—there is no truth in the suggestion that I prevented it—I never came in at the door until Mrs. Watt had left on the morning of the 4th.

JOHN FRENCH BLAKE . I am a registered medical practitioner, of Wurther Road, Putney—I have known the prisoner about three years—he has never been a patient of mine, although I attended him on two occasions for his usual medical attendant—I have attended Lady Violet Beauchamp for two or three years, the last time being July 17th and the first March 30th, 1903—never at any time have I prescribed chloroform for her, or essence of peppermint—I remember seeing the prisoner on July 17th at 72, Knightsbridge, where Lady Violet was living—I gave him some chloroform in the winter of last year, I think it was March; he

called and asked me to let him have a little for experimental purposes; he did not say what they were—I gave him this bottle in this case—as far as I can judge, it contains just about the quantity that I gave him, about two ounces—it was a gift on my part—I never gave him any other but that—this bottle contains chloroform, and this one evidently essence of pepper-mint—I saw these bottles before the Magistrate—chloroform is very dif fusible and gives off an unmistakable smell—the effect of the essence of peppermint would be to drown to a certain extent the smell of the chloroform—essence of peppermint also has an unmistakable odour.

Cross-examined. A very great number of people keep essence of pepper-mint in the house—Lady Violet suffered frequently from neuralgia—she herself, or the prisoner, told me that she used chloroform on that account—I know the room called the library on the ground floor, and I have always seen Lady Violet there—I did not notice whether the desk was generally open; I think it was usually closed—I never saw my bottle of chloroform on that desk; after I handed it to the prisoner I never saw it again until at the Police Court—the prisoner never saw me on the subject of my being called in to certify that Mrs. Watt had died from heart disease; I consider it to be very unjust; he had no justification whatever to anticipate that I should associate myself with such a thing—he never consulted me at all about it—there must be a certificate by at least two medical men before any body is cremated and also with an executor or some relative.

JOHN SWEENEY . I was at one time a detective-inspector in the Metropolitan Police, attached to Scotland Yard, leaving there on September 7th, 1903—I went into partnership with Marshall on January 1st, 1904—there was a company there—I started practically as a partner, and there was a formal partnership later—during the time I was with him I had no knowledge of the existence of any statements made by a man named Shuttle, in whatever name those statements were made—I learnt about them first from the newspaper on the morning after the proceedings at Marlborough Street Police Court.

Cross-examined. The prisoner was first introduced to me by Mr. Bicknell, a solicitor, and it was I with whom he first made arrangements for employing my firm on August 9th—I had known him by sight as a Member of Parliament—he may have known me as an officer of police; he said he did—I went away on business on August 11th for over a week and I saw nothing more of him after I met him at the office on August 11th—I introduced him to Marshall on August 9th—I was present when the agreement was signed—the prisoner went away and came back again to make some alterations, but I was not there then—Marshall drew it up.

T. B. HOUSTON (Further cross-examined). The decree filed in Marshall's case is dated December 20th, 1899—these are the allegations made by the Queen's Proctor (Alleging petitioner's adultery in June, July August, September, October and November, 1899, with Mrs. Williamson, find mentioning the various places at which the adultery had been committed)—the decree nisi was June 12th, 1900.

H. FOWLER (Recalled). I was at Scotland Yard on August 17th, when I saw Marshall about 12 a.m.—as a matter of fact, he had been there some time before—I went into Mr. Fox's room and there was a conversation between the there of us—I, with Sergeant Ball and Marshall, then went to 5, Regent Street, starting from Scotland Yard about 12.30 or 12.40 p.m., arriving there just before 1 p.m.; I should think it is about ten minutes' walk—we were there in the office about five or six minutes—if we had started from Scotland Yard at 12.30 p.m. we should have arrived in Regent Street at 12.40, and if we started at 12.40 we should have arrived at 12.50—I saw McKenna, who handed a statement to me which was incorporated into the information at Marlborough Street—I did not get any statement or notes on that visit from Drummond; I got that on the 19th, about 11 or 12 a.m.—we then proceeded straight to Marlborough Street Police Court, Marshall, McKenna, Sergeant Ball and myself—when we got there we found the Magistrate had risen and we waited until he sat again—the information of Marshall and McKenna was then put before him and a warrant was granted—about 5 p.m. that day I went to Knightsbridge, when I saw the prisoner—I stopped him and said, "We are police officers. I believe your name is Watt"—he said, "Yes" I said, "We hold a warrant for your arrest on a charge of attempting to procure one, Herbert Marshall, to commit a felony, namely, to murder your former wife"—he said, "At whose, instance is this?" and I said, "Mr. Marshall laid information before the Magistrate"—the notes I am reading from were made at the time—he said, "Ridiculous; perfectly ridiculous"—we then called a cab and conveyed him to Vine Street police station—on the way in the cab I read the warrant to him and he said, "It is absurd. If I had wanted to murder her I could have done so scores of times when she laid ill in my house. This all comes through my trying to settle matters with her. She has ruined my life and been a curse to me for years, and cost me thousands of pounds"—he was then charged at Vine Street police station, and when the charge was read over to him he said, "It is utterly untrue"—I then searched him, during which he said, "I call this d—scandalous to be treated like this on the word of a man like Marshall. I saw him this morning and we were alone. What corroboration has he got?"—I said, "I cannot answer you that," and he said, "I have paid him £10 and telephoned to him this afternoon to send in his bill"—about a minute before we left Marshall's office, somewhat before 1, some telephone communication took place—I only heard what Marshall said—he asked at my suggestion that the prisoner should be at the office at 5 p.m.—I have tried to listen through the doorway of Marshall's room when the door is closed and persons are sitting inside speaking in ordinary ones, and I find it is quite easy—it is a wooden partition with a door in the middle of it—I have got Drummond's statement that I received from him on the 19th.

Cross-examined. I met the prisoner outside his house at 72, Knightsbridge, just going in; he was coming from the direction of Brompton Road to his house when I first saw him—Marshall at the telephone said "All right," evidently in answer to something the prisoner said at the other end.

ALFRED BALL (Sergeant, New Scotland Yard). I accompanied Sergeant Fowler from Scotland Yard to 5, Regent Street, and then to the Police Court—I was afterwards with him when the prisoner was arrested, and I agree with his account of it—on the same evening of August 17th, at 9 p.m., I went with Sergeant Fowler to 72, Knightsbridge, the address the prisoner gave, and saw Lady Violet Beauchamp—she pointed out a roll top desk to me in the front room on the ground floor—with a key which Sergeant Fowler had found in the prisoner's possession I unlocked it and on the left-hand side I found this wooden case and on the partition on the right three other bottles—there was a bottle of glycerine which has no connection with this case—they were all three wrapped in two pieces of rag, of soft material.

Cross-examined. Lady Violet said, "Those are only two pieces of my old combinations"—when Sergeant Fowler unscrewed the case containing the chloroform and smelt it he said, "It smells something like camphor,' and she said, "That is what I use," but she said nothing in reference to the other three bottles—the prisoner did not say what the key was with which I unlocked the desk—seventeen keys were taken from the prisoner—Lady Violet said, "It is camphor; that is what I use"; I am quite sure of that—I did not ask her what the other bottle was, nor did I smell it.

Re-examined. Lady Violet said she had no key to the desk—there was some money in it when I opened it, and we allowed her to take what she wanted; she took a sovereign saying she had no key to the desk.

ALFRED EDWARD SUTTON . I am a clerk to Messrs. Gadsden & Treherne, of 28, Bedford Row, and I produce a deed of settlement, dated January 17th, 1901, between Hugh Watt, Julia Watt and George Frank Fergusson Gadsden.

GEORGE SAUNDERS . I am reporter for "The Times" at the West-minster Police Court—I was there on August 9th when an application was made by the prisoner for process for assault against Mrs. Watt—I took notes of what he said in making the application; I have not the absolute shorthand note, but I have a transcript made from the original note at the moment—it contains nothing but what actually took place in the Court. (Read: Stating that the prisoner had applied for a summons for an alleged assault by his wife, who had divorced him; that he had called at 15, Chapel Street, Portman Square, by appointment and suggested that five years' litigation should be ended by some arrangement; that Mrs. Watt was simply "furious" and having "stampeded" up and down the room caught him by the shoulders and pushed him against the door; that she had certainly asked him to go out, and in reply to Mr. Curtis Bennet's question stated he did not think she had a right to use force against him because he was still her husband, the decree not having been made absolute; and that she said she still had a right over him and "the other woman" had not, meaning by "the other woman," the lady to whom he was then married, all the facts having been explained to the Registrar when he married her; that Mr. Curtis Bennet said he was not justified in granting a summons, since he (the prisoner)

had been ordered to go)—the words in the inverted commas, "furious," "stampeded," and "the other woman," are the actual words he said.

JOHN LIGHTFOOT . I am now undergoing a sentence of twelve months hard labour at Wormwood Scrubbs, having been sentenced at this Court for perjury—I remember on August 25th last being in Hyde Park—I was sitting on a seat—two gentlemen came along and asked me for a match—one of them was the prisoner, whom I had seen before in Glasgow—they sat down on the seat beside me and began to talk about the weather, and then the prisoner said to me, "I think you are a Scotchman"—I said, "Yes, practically of Scotch descent"—I then said, "You are Mr. Watt; I think I have seen you in Glasgow"—he said, "Yes, I was Member there"—he introduced me to his friend as "Lord Kinloch, Equerry to the King," who had been Governor of Australia when Mr. Watt was in Australia—"Lord Kinloch" said that Mr. Watt was in trouble and gave me an idea that he was charged with inciting to murder—the prisoner then asked me if I would have a drink—we went to a public-house right across the Park—on the way "Lord Kinloch" said that Lady Violet Watt was a friend of the King and he ("Lord Kinloch") was instructed by the King to get the case hushed up—in the public-house drinks were ordered—the prisoner there said that "Lord Kinloch" was arranging to get the case hushed up and they wanted a witness to give evidence, to blind the public; words to that effect—they proposed to me that I should give evidence which they would write down for me—I thought it strange, but their names fascinated me—they asked me when I went back to Yorkshire would I write a letter up to Mr. Watt and he gave me his address on a piece of paper—this is it, "H. W. 72 Knightsbridge, S. W."—I asked them what sort of letter they wanted—they said they would write me one out for me to send up to them—a letter was written in the public-house by "Lord Kinloch" at the prisoner's dictation—the draft was handed to me—I asked why I could not send it up to his solicitor—the prisoner said he would take it along to his solicitor and get him to write me the next morning after it arrived—he further said that the solicitor would ask me for a statement and they proceeded to write it out and I copied it in the public-house—I took it away with me; also their draft, but I destroyed that and only kept one copy—I cannot quite think how it arose, but I had given them my proper name as John Lightfoot; but I said I did not fancy my name being glared about before the public in a case like this, and the prisoner suggested I should take another—I suggested Battle and he suggested Norman, as it would look more Scotch, he said, so that I passed as Norman Battle—I gave him my proper address in Yorkshire and he said that I had better have two addresses—he also suggested that I should get some cards printed in London with the name on of Norman Battle and the two addresses—"Lord Kinloch" went out for about fifteen minutes—the prisoner then started to tell me all about the case—he told me that Lady Violet had, I think, £2,500 damages to pay for slander; that the former Mrs. Watt was costing him a lot of money; that Lady Violet was very friendly with King Edward; that there were letters from Lord

Knollys, I think was the name; that "Lord Kinloch" was going to get the case hushed up with the Treasury; that it would be a good thing for me and that I was lucky to be in it—I do not think so now—he further said that they were going to arrange with the Treasury to get the case defended, but that at the present time it was in the hands of Mr. Palmer, but that they did not wish Mr. Palmer to know anything about my arrangement; that it would be arranged with Mr. Kennedy, the Magistrate, and someone would represent the Treasury, and would I meet Mr. Rufus Isaacs the next week—all this was said by the prisoner in the absence of the supposed "Lord Kinloch," who then returned and we three left and went back into the Park—they asked me if I had any place to go to—I said, "Not yet"—then "Lord Kinloch" said that he could give me lodgings for the night—in the public-house £18 10s. was given to me by "Lord Kinloch," who said that it was all he had on him, but that he would give me more and make it worth my while to give the evidence—we walked across the Park to Hyde Park Corner, where the prisoner left us, "Lord Kinloch" saying that he would be down at Mr. Watt's house shortly—I went with "Lord Kinloch" to one of the turnings off Edgware Road and went to a private house there—"Lord Kinloch" knocked at the door and said to the woman who opened it, "This is the gentleman I spoke to you about"—I was shown into a side room and "Lord Kinloch" went away—I left the house next morning early—on that day I went back to Yorkshire, where I have a poultry form—the following Sunday, August 27th, I wrote this letter ("Battle 1") the prisoner—I wrote it from the one given to me in the public-house—next day I received a reply from Mr. Freke Palmer (Read: Stating that the writer would be glad to receive a full statement of what the witness knew of the matter)—next day I replied (Read: Stating that the witness would on hearing, come up to London and give all details)—I had no reply to that, so wrote again—I received a reply from Mr. Palmer, and in consequence sent him this statement: "Rough statement per request. Norman Battle, of Edinburgh, saw Mr. Hugh Watt leave Mr. Marshall's office a week past Thursday, 17th August, about midday as I was waiting near by. About five minutes afterwards Marshall left the same doorway. Immediately afterwards McKenna rushed after him and joined him near me, when I overheard the following conversation take place:—McKenna: 'Be careful how you go about it. Mr. Marshall.' Marshall: 'Have no fear; nobody will believe Watt and I will taka it out of him. Fancy only £10.' McKenna: 'All right, see the thing through watt does no count for much; besides, look at the advertisement.' Marshall: 'Finish that statement you commenced yesterday, but be sure to keep a copy for me and Drummond or we are done.' McKenna: 'Do you want me to finish it now?' Marshall: 'Of course we must not make a (mess of this job or Watt will paralyse us. Back shortly. Marshall went on, McKenna back to office, and I thought I would keep the conversation in my mind, as it seemed so strange after seeing Mr. Watt pass by just previously. N. Battle, August 29th, 1905"—that statement was made from the one read out in the hotel, an exact copy—I received a

letter from the prisoner and came to London on the Friday—I cannot think of the date, September 15th, 16th, or 17th—I brought with me the little pencil memorandum of the address which he had given me—it was in my little bag—I had got all the letters with me, but rather than open my bag in the street I asked a policeman which was the right number of the prisoner's house—I then went to 72, Knightsbridge—they there said that Mr. Watt had gone out, but would be back at 4.30—it was then 3.30—I went back at 4.30—the prisoner opened the door himself and said, "I am afraid I have asked you up to London a bit too soon"—I had told him I had come in answer to his letter—he asked me inside and took me into a room on the left—he there introduced me to Lady Violet—he said he was expecting Rufus Isaacs, the King's counsellor, to come in any minute—at that time it was told me about the detectives having gone to arrest Mr. Watt and knocking Lady Violet down in the passage—Lady Violet received me all right, shook hands and told me she was pleased to see me—she mentioned the King's name and the Duke of Fife's, and that she was cousin to the Duke—whilst this conversation was going on the bell rang—the prisoner went to the door and returned with a gentleman who, he said, was Rufus Isaacs, but who I know now was not—I have since found out that he was Bernard Abrahams—I picked out his photograph in prison—I identify this photograph as his—I was introduced to him—the prisoner said that I was the party that had arranged to give evidence, or words to that effect—"Rufus Isaacs" said that he was arranging to get the case hushed up on behalf of the Treasury—it was said that I was to get £5,000 for giving evidence and that it would be a good thing for my wife and family—I said it would—they said they would give me a berth under the Government, of a Government character—I have now got the situation in prison—the prisoner said that he had a large fruiterer's business, with sixteen hands employed, that it was about fifteen to twenty minutes' walk from his house in the West End, and that if I did not get this other appointment he would hand this over to me if I was used to it—soon after this "Lord Kinloch" came in—there were then present Lady Violet, "Lord Kinloch," "Rufus Isaacs," Mr. Watt, and myself—we had dinner together at 6.30 in the house—there was a lot of conversation before dinner and the King's name was again mentioned—I dined three times in the house and once in Sloane Street—we had pie for dinner and hard-boiled eggs, sliced—the prisoner brought the pie in himself—there was conversation at dinner about the case—it was never anything else—Abrahams took me in hand, and started to tell me what to do—he told me to get this evidence off by heart, that he was arranging with the Treasury—of course it was always pretty much the same thing, but they impressed upon me that it was the Treasury and the King who wanted the case settled—that was to blind me—Abrahams said he could not take the case himself, as he had too much to do, but he would arrange for someone from the Treasury to come and take it—he said there were very few who would know about it, just Mr. Kennedy, the Magistrate, himself, of course, Lady Violet and the prisoner—he told me on no account to say

much to Mr. Freke Palmer, as he had not confidence in him, that Mr. Palmer was sure to speak it about aloud, that he was a windbag and could not keep a secret, that all Mr. Palmer wanted was money, and that he had already asked him for £100—they said they had engaged a leading counsel from the Treasury; Mr. Muir they expected would take the case in hand, as he was one of the leading counsel of the Treasury—I believed the whole story—during this evening both Lady Violet and the prisoner told me what had been the effect of the detective's violence on Lady Violet, that she had had a miscarriage, which had prevented him from having a son and heir—after dinner Lady Violet went off to bed, or said she was going to bed—that left me with the prisoner and Abrahams—I had any amount of wine, champagne it was, I expect—the prisoner took out of a sovereign purse five sovereigns and gave them to me—that night I got a registered letter and sent £4 home to my wife—Lady Violet and the prisoner offered to put me up that night in their house—I thought I would rather not; in fact, they offered to let me stay there altogether, but "Rufus Isaacs" thought it would be dangerous my being seen staying there—I left the house with the prisoner—we went through the Park and out of the gate, where I got on to an omnibus—he said he was going home—I stayed that night at Adams' Temperance Hotel, Gray's Inn Road, in the name of Kirtley—next day I returned to the prisoner's house at Knightsbridge—I saw him and Lady Violet—they said I had better go home again for a short while till things got arranged with the Treasury and they would send for me again—I told them I had got a four days' ticket from Thirsk—on that Saturday £5 was given me by the prisoner out of his sovereign case—I went home to Thirsk—the next thing that happened was that I received this telegram: "N. Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk, York. Can you be here 6 o'clock Thursday evening. Watt, 72, Knightsbridge"—the reply being paid, I replied that I would be there—I went for a drive and when I got back I found another telegram awaiting me, which said "Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk. If can come Wednesday do so. Will put you up. Watt"—I answered that by telegram and letter—on Wednesday, the 20th, I left Thirsk and came to London, arriving about 2—I went to the prisoner's house—Lady Violet, the prisoner, "Rufus Isaacs," and "Lord Kinloch" were there—they said that I would have to go to Mr. Palmer's office the next morning to go through a statement, about 10.30 or 11—I was told not to tell Mr. Palmer much about the letters or telegrams; I was to keep them to myself; as it was practically arranged with Mr. Muir to take up the case, I was to say very little to Mr. Palmer—I was to tell Mr. Palmer that I had heard the story which was concocted at the Hotel—at the interview at the prisoner's house, both the prisoner and "Rufus Isaacs" asked me if I would let him (the prisoner) see Mr. Palmer's two letters—I let the prisoner see them and he kept them—Abrahams also asked to see the prisoner's first letter to me, which I showed him—he kept it—he also asked to see the statement, as he would like to go through it—he kept it, saying it was not necessary for me to keep it—I stayed At the prisoner's that evening to dinner—the party consisted of the

prisoner, Lady Violet, and Bernard Abrahams—the dinner was as before—after it was over, Lady Violet retired—I was taken upstairs by the prisoner and Abrahams—£5 was given to me—they offered to put me up for the night—I said I would rather not stay there, and went back to the same hotel as before, in the same name—next morning, at 9.45, I went to the prisoner's by appointment arranged the night before, to go to Mr. Palmer's office—I went to the office with the prisoner and saw Mr. Palmer—he asked me a few questions about the statement, which I did not answer very well, as I had not got it off then—he then asked me if I had the original statement, that is the original note of the conversation—I said I had not it with me—I told him I would produce it later on—the prisoner gave me a wink—he was there all the time—Mr. Palmer said he would see me again next day at the Court—I wish to say that Mr. Palmer acted very honestly in this affair—that interview over, I left with the prisoner—we met Abrahams—the prisoner told me I had better get a statement ready, and Abrahams advised me to go into a stationer's shop two or three doors off Mr. Palmer's and write one out—they said I would be asked to produce it somewhere or other, at Court most likely, better have it ready—it was just as a matter of form, they said—they further said that I had made a mess of it with Mr. Palmer—I went to a little stationer's shop and bought a sheet of paper and an envelope—I asked the lady there if I might write something out—she said, "Yes"—I there wrote out in pencil a document and left the shop—I was shortly afterwards joined by the prisoner and Abrahams—I then noticed there was some fourth person near us—they said he was a detective from Scotland Yard—he sometimes kept behind and sometimes passed us—when we got to an hotel to dine, Abrahams said, "Are we being shadowed?"—the so-called detective answered, "No, it's all right"—we all four, including the detective, went in and had luncheon—I said to Abrahams, "What is there to be afraid of being shadowed if this is all right?"—he replied, "He is just sent up by Scotland Yard to see that Mr. Watt is not annoyed"—the prisoner said, "That's quite right"—I also asked the detective if he was from Scotland Yard and he replied, "Yes"—I never heard his name or other description, but I could identify him out of a thousand—I was the only one who had dinner—they had drink—the prisoner and Abrahams asked me to show them the statement I had written out in the shop—they told me to put the time in the corner—this is the statement—I showed it to them, also the copy I copied it from—they handed it back to me—I left the public-house with the prisoner and Abrahams—they said that they expected the case would be finished the next day—they said that they had plenty of money to spend and that the detective would see that a certain witness would not appear to-morrow, as they were keeping him out of the road, as they had had him drunk for years—they called him "Nosey"—the prisoner said it did not matter what was spent—the others parted company and left me with the prisoner and with him I went through the Park to Hyde Park Corner, and then to Piccadilly Circus—from there he took me round to the right and pointed out Marshall & McKenna's office—he told me

to take notice of the place and said I "might be asked something about it to-morrow"—he said he had better tell me what sort of weather it was on August 17th—he said it was only a matter of form he was telling me that, as the case was practically settled—he said it was a grey sort of morning—we walked about in the Park and he then said he had to go to the bank for some money—I waited for him—when he returned he asked me was I satisfied that the case was all right on behalf of the Treasury—I said, "Yes, it seemed all right"—he said, "I will convince you; we will go down to Mr. Muir's office, the Treasury office. I am going to see Mr. Muir there"—we got into a cab and went down to the Strand—he took me down an archway and said that it was the Treasury office—he showed me a lot of offices and said he was going in to see Mr. Muir—I waited for him for about forty-five minutes—when he cam back he said Mr. Muir would appear in the morning for him or for the Treasury and the case would be finished—we went back to his house and I there saw Lady Violet and Abrahams, who went over the statement with me and told me I should have to get it thoroughly off—he asked me a few questions likely to be asked me the next day, where I had stopped the night before, the time, and the weather—I went over my statement five or six times—then I went over it with the prisoner after that—it was said that I had stopped the night before the 17th at Paris and to get my evidence taken I was to say I was going to Canada—before I left that night it was arranged that I should be at the prisoner's the next morning at 9 o'clock—I went back to the same hotel—next morning I went to the prisoner's and there saw Lady Violet, the prisoner, and his secretary, who was also said to be the manager of the fruiterer's shop and who collected rents—I begged the prisoner to tell me if it was all correct what he had told me—he said, "Yes, a good thing for you and your wife and family; it will put you on your feet"—I drove with the prisoner and his secretary to the Court—when near there the prisoner said, "I think another drink will do you good; you seem to be nervous"—he took me to an hotel opposite the Court and gave me a glass of brandy—we went to the Court and the prisoner pointed out that Mr. Muir was there and said, "Now it is all right; there is Mr. Muir"—my name was called as a witness and I got into the box and am sorry to say I gave evidence which was taken down [The witness's depositions were then read]—my evidence having been given, I returned to 72, Knightsbridge, and there had some conversation with Lady Violet—half an hour after I went out with the prisoner and Lady Violet down Sloane Street to a dining-room about 6.30 and there had some dinner—the meal for the three cost 18s. 6d.—during the meal Lady Violet said to me she knew I had been in the box, because a telegram had been sent to her—she said, "It was just signed 'Scotland Yard'; there has also been one sent to the King in the same way"—the prisoner said the case was remanded for a week—I said that was strange, and I was beginning to get frightened then—I said I thought they had made a mess of me; it seemed like it, as Mr. Kennedy had said that if Mr. Watt annoyed anybody in the meantime he would be arrested—I did not hear the Magistrate say that, but I heard

the prisoner repeat it—Lady Violet at the dinner drank rather a good drop and had to leave the table and go home—after she left, the prisoner and I went to Victoria Station—the prisoner bought a paper, and we saw in it the Magistrate's remark about molesting the witnesses—I began then to complain, saying I thought he had made a victim of me—he said, "Mr. Kennedy must have been in a hurry to-day to get away; it will be finished next week"—I then got on to him about the money—he said, "You will get it next week when the case is finished"—I said, "What about the £5,000 you promised me; it looks as though it is not correct what you told me"—he said, "Oh, you will get your £5,000 when the case is finished"—he was a little bit drunk—we walked towards Hyde Park Corner and pointing in the direction of some houses the prisoner said, "Mrs. Watt lives along there"—on the way back to Knightsbridge he said frightful things about Mrs. Watt, "that she ought to be mown off the earth, Sir Reginald as well," that she was a bad character and that he picked her up off the streets—he said that he had said such a thing to Marshall, as Marshall says, but never really meant it—he also said that Sir Reginald Beauchamp was very "dicky" on his legs and he could soon be settled; it would be a charity to put him out of the road—before I left him that night he said that he expected to get "time" for it; that he had slept in the backwoods of Australia and out in the open air with nothing but the sky above him for shelter and he thought he could do a few months—I said it was serious and I complained generally—I said I would go to Scotland Yard and give myself up, as I found I had been made a victim of—he begged of me to put it off for another week and told me he would talk to me in the morning—I went to his house early next morning—I there saw him and Lady Violet—we had a bit of a row—I told him I was going to tell all about the case, what they had done to me, deceived me, and I would go down to Scotland Yard—he again begged of me not to do that, said he would give me a good handsome cheque besides the £5,000 if I would only keep quiet till the case was settled—they expected that the case would be settled that morning—they gave me £5 and I left—that afternoon I went home and told my wife all about it and decided that I would give information—I got a witness summons and went back with the officer who served it—at Marlborough Street I went into the witness box and made my statement on oath—the first statement I made on August 17th was false; it was the statement that had been drawn up for me.

Saturday, December 16th.

J. LIGHTFOOT (Further examined). This pencil document with regard to my evidence was given by me at the Court, I think (Ex. 8 produced)—I am not sure whether I gave it up to the police or the Court, but I know it was found in my pocket.

Cross-examined. It was either found upon me when I was arrested or I gave it up at the Court on the second occasion—I swear it was given up on one of them times—it was decidedly not given up when I first gave evidence—if it was given up at all, it would be in the Court; I never gave

any papers to Mr. Freke Palmer at all—I swear I gave it up at the Court when I gave my evidence for the first time; I think so—I gave it up one of the two times; I am not certain which; I fancy myself it was on the 22nd; I made it out on the 21st—I cannot remember giving it to Mr. Freke Palmer; I gave it to the Magistrate or one of the officials—I do not say I did not give it to Mr. Freke Palmer; he may have asked me for it—I gave it to someone in Court—if I knew that I gave it to Mr. Freke Palmer, I would tell you—in August this year I was dealing in cattle and I had a little poultry farm at Thirsk, Sowerby, Yorkshire—I lived at a little place just at the bottom of Sowerby—I had a field, a little orchard, a big garden, a cottage, a stable, a pony and trap, and 100 head of poultry and a horse at that time—I have bought and sold pigs and several things; I make my living at it—I have done nothing else this year, but I did a little bit now and again last year—the latter part of last year I was doing very much the same thing, and in the early part working at my printing trade—that is the trade I served my apprenticeship at, but I have not worked at it for some time—I have worked at it on and off this last few years—I worked fifteen years in one place, rising to head compositor at a head wage—I am forty-two, my birthday being the day I was sentenced—I gave up my berth five or six years ago—as near as I can tell you the last time I earned any money at printing was a year ago—a year ago I passed in the name of Kirtley, because my father was editor of a newspaper and I did not want the people where I worked to think that I had been better off and had come down to work for a small wage—I was in Paris and St. Cloud in January this year for a few weeks—I never did anything while I was there; I lived on what I had—I made a little bit of money gambling—I did not go to Paris altogether to gamble, but that is practically why I went—I only gambled a little in a little street near the Vendome—I made bets; I did not gamble—that is why I went to Paris—I went with a gentleman; I cannot think of his name now—I will tell you, if I think of his name and address—he said he was a photographer from London—I have met him in London—all I know about London is my way from Victoria Station to King's Cross by Piccadilly and Regent Street—I met him by arrangement at King's Cross—he induced me to go over to Paris on the Baltic Fleet Commission, the inquiry about the Russians firing into the Baltic Fleet—I know a bit about the River Humber, and I went there as a witness, but I was never called upon—this gentleman was engaged by the Government to gather up evidence—I am telling you what I went to Paris for as I go along—I stayed at the Rue d' Amsterdam, this gentleman paying part of my expenses and I paying part—the house I stayed at used to be called "Fox's"; I do not know what they call it now; it goes by the name of "Fox's Hotel"; it is still on the window, "Austin Fox's," but that is not the proprietor—I was very successful in my betting; I was there seven or eight weeks, getting about £200 or £300—it was more in February than January when I did the betting on steeplechasing, at little bits of meetings—I did not lay against horses at all—this was my first experience of Paris—I said at the Police Court that "Austin Fox's" was the name of the hotel

I stayed at—I came back about the back end of February—I had been to Hyde Park before; that is about the only place I really know in London—I generally go in there and have a sit down when I am tired—I have been to London a few times—I like to sit and watch the people go along on the horses—I cannot say when I was in London before this; I do not think I had been in London before I saw the prisoner; I am not sure—I got my expenses for going to Paris and a lump sum of £300 from the photographer, which was quite apart from my betting—it was very doubtful when I went whether I would have to give any evidence; the evidence I was going to give was about the moving banks of the Humber, in which I am very well up—I have done drawings from plans of the Humber—the photographer was a representative of the Russian Government, as far as I know, both sides—he did not think it was necessary for me to give evidence; I only went to enlighten him on certain things—the £300 was paid me by a cheque on a London bank, of which I cannot tell you the name—I never had one before—I did not then have a banking account—I went with this gentle­man to the bank; it is in the West End somewhere, the Kensington district—he went with me part of the way and told me to get out at a certain station; I cannot say whether it was Kensington or Sloane Street—I think it has been an unprofitable trip for me, taking it right through—I wrote this letter, dated August 27th, on a Sunday; I do not remember the date (Extract of Ex. 1 read: "Sir,—Not having your correct address, I trust this note will find you, but I think I know sufficient to clear you from the base charge brought against you ")—I returned from London the day after Mr. Watt was tried—I thought I returned on Friday, but it appears to be Saturday—I was only in London one, night on that occasion—it must have been Friday, the 25th, if that is the day Mr. Watt was tried, and I Returned to Yorkshire some time on Saturday—the interview in Hyde Park took place on Friday, the 25th—I think he told me he had been tried that day—it is very difficult to get a newspaper at Thirsk; I see them now and again—I have got them on a Sunday sometimes, but very seldom—I was sitting at the first big seat round the left of Hyde Park Corner—I do not smoke; if anyone gives me a cigarette I smoke, but I never buy any tobacco—neither of them were smoking anything when they came up—I cannot say that I saw the prisoner take the cigar out of his pocket that he gave me; I was not glaring at him—I swear that I think it was the prisoner who handed me a cigar, unless it was his living image—I swear that that gentleman (The prisoner) handed me the cigar; to the best of my belief it was the prisoner—I am certain it was the prisoner, but I am not so keen on swearing things as I used to be—I practically swear that that man (The prisoner) offered me a cigar, but I am pretty well nervous now—I know it was him—I know all three of us then smoked cigars—I swear that as far as I know, the prisoner smoked a cigar; I am certain it was the prisoner, but I am not going to swear anything—if it was not him, it was his living image—to my satisfaction it is him—I swear that he smoked several cigars after that; he smoked one in Hyde Park when we were walking along together—I swore falsely for two purposes: one which has never been mentioned

in public, but I should like to write it down—I had his word for the £5,000 he was going to give me; he was a Member of Parliament and I thought he was all right, but I am satisfied now that he is not—that is not the main reason why I swore falsely at all—we were in the public-house talking above an hour—it was after 8.30 p.m. when we came back to Hyde Park Corner; we knocked about Edgware Road for a bit; it would be about 9 p.m.—I made a statement in prison of the evidence I gave yesterday; after I was convicted of perjury and sentenced—I think it was to Sergeant Fowler and Sergeant Ball, who called two succeeding days, Friday and Saturday—I swear those, are the only time they have been there; that is all I have seen of them—I cannot give you the dates, but I think they were two dates together—I know one was a Saturday, but I thought it was Friday and Saturday—they were not much there on the Thursday, but they were there a good bit on the Saturday—they saw me on a third occasion, but not for an interview—I am sure they did not see me on a third occasion and take further evidence from me; I proved out of prison where I had been to on certain occasions—not every word of my evidence was false; I gave my own and my sister's address—my evidence had pretty well all been prepared by this imitation Rufus Isaacs—I was thoroughly deceived into it by a man who represented himself to be a Member of Parliament and another one who said he was a lord, and Lady Violet and this Rufus Isaacs—I knew it was false—if I said in my cross-examination that I said, "My solicitor has the note; I gave it to him then," it would be true; I gave the paper up in Court—on the 29th I wrote to Mr. Freke Palmer, "As I have just a few minutes I must be brief. I will not be in London for some time, as I am bound for Scotland soon. If you desire to see me, I will engage a gentleman in my place for a short time and on seeing you I will give you all minor details. The above address will find me until Friday if you are likely to send for me. Please drop a telegram so I may make arrangements. Address, pro tern., World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk"—I wrote that letter in the post office at Thirst—World's End is at the corner of Sowerby—I wrote it without assistance from anybody—I say also, "I have identified Marshall's photo in the Sunday 'News of the World "'; I added that of my own accord—I had seen the paper that, day—I do not see that paper once in three months; I just happened to pick it up—I did not enclose in that letter the state­ment which I was prepared to make; I had not got it in my pocket—this is in my handwriting (Ex. 5 produced) including the signature, "N. Battle," and the date, August 29th—I wrote this letter to Mr. Freke Palmer on August 31st from World's End of my own accord, because I thought that the thing had fallen through (Ex. 6: Stating that if he (Light-foot) should not hear from Mr. Palmer on the Friday or Saturday he would conclude that his services were not necessary, and that he trusted he would bring the case to a successful conclusion. Signed, "N. Battle")—in reply to that I got this letter from Mr. Freke Palmer, dated September 1st (Read): "I am much obliged for yours of the 31st ult., and for the statement you have kindly sent me. If the case is committed for trial

I should like to see you on the matter and will communicate with you again shortly if you will keep me informed of your whereabouts"—I am quite certain that I did not send the statement until after that letter was written in the post office; I cannot give the date when I sent the statement, but I know I sent it by itself without any letter—I swear my statement dated August 29th was not enclosed in the letter of the 29th—on September 21st I was at Mr. Palmer's office—I think he started by saying that it was no use my making any statements which would not stand inquiry; he did all right; he did his best—the prisoner winked at me as much as to say, "Take no notice"—I was sitting on a chair inside the door and the prisoner and Mr. Freke Palmer were facing us both—Mr. Freke Palmer questioned me closely upon my statement; he cross-examined me—I did all I knew to make him believe in the prisoner's presence that it was true—at the instigation of the prisoner I told Mr. Freke Palmer that I had a note of the conversation I had overheard—I did not repent immediately after I had given my evidence on September 22nd; I repented the same day—when I was at King's Cross I was very much upset; one minute I was going down to Scotland Yard and the next minute I wondered whether I should not go and tell my wife all about it—being at King's Cross, I thought I would go home—I went to see a friend, to go with me to Scotland Yard previous to that—about three or four weeks after, the police served a notice on me requiring me to go back with them—I remained at home making arrangements for my wife and family—I knew I was going to be locked up, because I intended to plead guilty—I told my wife that the very first day I got to the Court I was going to tell all about it—I came back quite voluntarily; I always meant to do so—I met Sergeant Ball coming up the road—I think he said, "You are Battle" first—I did not hesitate—the officer went on to say, "You are the man who attended Marlborough Street Police Court on September 22nd on the hearing of the case against Mr. Watt," and I acknowledged it—he told me he was directed to serve a summons on me for my attendance at the Marlborough Street Police Court the next day—I said I could not come, as it was too short a notice; I said I had just got a letter to go to Leeds to-morrow and it was very awkward, but I would come—the officer may have said, "You must come, "and I said, "If I must come to-morrow, I must"—he told me he could not bring me—I gave in evidence yesterday a number of things which I never said at Marlborough Street Police Court, but I had not the chance"—I did not say a word about the prisoner saying that he expected he would do time, and that as he had slept in the back woods of Australia he thought he could manage a few months; I simply answered the questions that I was asked—I asked to make a statement at the Assizes, but I was not allowed—I wanted to make a statement before I was sentenced, but they would not allow me a barrister—I had given just an outline of my evidence to Sergeant Fowler before I gave my evidence at Marlborough Street on the second occasion—I was not asked for all; I was not in a position to give all; I was too cut up—I told a lot of it to Sergeant Ball in the train—I think I told Sergeant Fowler about the prisoner alluding to doing time—I should like to explain why I did not

give a lull account of it—we rushed into Court and I pleaded guilty in less than five minutes—I think I was in the witness-box about three-quarters of an hour—on one occasion, when I was at the prisoner's house, the man who called himself 'Rufus Isaacs "had a conversation with the prisoner in a language which I took to be French—I cannot speak French; I know a few words like "Oui, oui"—your suggestion that my first communication with the prisoner either verbal or written was the letter on August 27th is wrong, and that the first time I ever saw him to speak to was September 16th, bar seeing him in the park—I asked a policeman the number of the prisoner's house—at that time I think I had a piece of paper with his address in my bag with my letters—I knew I was going to Knights-bridge and I did not look in my bag—I knew the number, but it had slipped my memory—I did not open the bag, because I did not want to stand I the middle of a crowd with a bag open—I may have said to Sergeant Fowler that I had omitted to bring his address with me—I appreciate the fact that if I asked a policeman it looked as if I did not know the address—when I wrote on August 27th saying," Not knowing your correct address," I had mislaid the little bit of paper—on September 16th, when I saw the prisoner, I did not say, "My name is Battle "or "I wrote to you," and he did not say, "You must see my solicitor"—I did not say, "I have come from Edinburgh to help you, and return to-night. I sent your solicitor a statement about three weeks ago. May I show you a copy?"; that is nonsense—I do not think that he and Lady Violet read over a copy of my statement to me, nor did the prisoner say, "Is it true?"and I did not reply, "Yes, every word of it"—I did not say I was hungry—I had dinner behind the cellar kitchen, where they dine—they told me their dinners were sent in always; I do not think they have any servants to cook any dinner; I don't think they have anybody except a general cleaner, who comes to clean up—whatever I eat they told me was fetched from outside—the prisoner did not say before I left, "I do not think your evidence can be taken until the case for the prosecution is closed, but I shall as my solicitor to let you know"—the motive which is influencing me in coming forward and giving evidence in this case is that I have done wrong and I wish to put things right in the interests of truth and justice and to let my friends in the North see bow I have been taken down by the prisoner—I have never been offered any advantage—if the prisoner says that on September 16th I said, "I am only coming forward in the interests of truth and justice," he knows well enough that he is talking rubbish—I did not, suggest to him he might pay my expenses; he gave me £5 freely—I never told him I came from Edinburgh—never at any time did I tell Mr. Palmer that I was in a good way of business in Yorkshire and my character would bear every investigation—the prisoner never gave me more than £5 at once; I had altogether from him £20—I have not yet remembered the name of the photographer who took me over to Paris—if I had been called as a witness I should have appeared as "Lightfoot"—I was staying in Paris in the name of" Kirtley "because I was used to it.

Re-examined. "John Kirtley "was the name I went under about two years ago—I served my apprenticeship with the Mayor of Durham;

I do not know whether he is Mayor now—I was fifteen years in the service of Messrs. Howe Bros.; I left their service about five years ago—I was then chosen as manager of a printing office out of sixty-three applicants in Chester-le-Street, Durham—I was there a year until the firm was sold—I then went to Sunderland on the "Sunderland Echo"—I was on for myself a little while before that, doing printing at Chester-le-Street and Sunderland—a gentleman ruined me; he did me out of a lot of money—my connection with the printing trade stopped in Sunderland about two and a half years ago—I have three boys—after I gave up printing I commenced to buy pigs and started my poultry farm—I bought on a small scale before going to Paris, but I got some money there and I then started on a large scale—I used to do printing as well if anyone was busy—the photographer told me he was a representative of both Governments; he said he was a sort of general man in the case if advice on the River Humber was wanted—he took photographs abroad at different places—this is a further document found upon me when Sergeant Ball brought me to London; it is an additional ink copy of the proposed evidence, signed "N. Battle "and dated August 26th, 1905 (Produced)—on my way to London in the train I made a statement to Sergeant Ball—I think he put a little bit down in a book, but not all of it—before I was sentenced in this Court I wished to have a counsel, so that I could explain the reason I had committed perjury—they said I had pleaded guilty and could not have one—I started to make a statement, but I thought I was wasting the time of the Court, and that I was doing wrong by making it then, and I stopped—it was arranged that I should write the letter of August 27th to deceive Mr. Freke Palmer—I want to write down the principal reason for my committing perjury for my own sake—I am very anxious to do it—it explains everything; it is most serious. [The witness, at the learned Judge's direction, wrote on a piece of paper which was afterwards shown to the counsel and Jury. The learned Judge stated that he would take a note that no wrong inference was to be drawn from MR. AVORYS not cross-examining upon it. His Lordship then directed the statement to be sealed.]

By the COURT. I won my money in betting from an Englishman—I just filled in my spare time—I betted with English people in a cafe; Paris is full of English betting men—I did not bet with people connected with the North Sea Inquiry. [The witness, on asking to make a statement, was told by the Judge that they could not have it, as they were trying the prisoner and not him.]

GEORGE FUELLING . I carried on business as a fruiterer at 153, Earl's Court Road, up to June, 1897—I then disposed of the business to the prisoner, but a Mr. Daeth acted as his nominee—since that time the prisoner has made an effort to dispose of it—he and my son came into communication last October and my son purchased the business on or about October 23rd—the lease of the premises was assigned to my son.

Cross-examined. I do not know that the prisoner purchased the business for Mr. Daeth's benefit—all I had to do was to assign the lease and the business.

FREDERICK MARSHALL TURNER . I am the manager of the Lyric Printing Co., of 126, Charing Cross Road—on September 20th, 1905, we received an order to print some gentleman's visiting cards—it is in my order-book—the cards were supplied in the name of" Norman Battle," but I cannot say to whom.

JOHN EDWARD MALLINSON . I am a clerk in the General Post Office—I produce certain original telegrams—one purports to be signed "Watt, 72, Knightsbridge"—it was handed in at Knightsbridge on September 18th—it says: "N. Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk, Yorkshire. Can you be here "(then there is "Friday morning "crossed out) "6 o'clock Thursday evening"—this is another telegram of September 18th handed in at Thirsk, which says: "Right, depend upon me, will call punctually"—a third telegram handed in at Knightsbridge on September 18th says: "Battle, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk. If can come Wednesday do so. Will put you up," and a fourth, dated September 18th, signed "Battle "and addressed to "Watt, 72, Knightsbridge," which says, "All right. Wednesday six; been in country."

LOUISE BRIDGER . I live at 9, Bracewell Road, Kensington, and am employed at Searcy's restaurant, 19, Sloane Street, as an attendant there—I know Lady Violet Watt and the prisoner by sight—I remember on one occasion in September last their dining at the restaurant—there was another gentleman with them, tall, thin and dark [Battle came forward)—I should think he was the man—I think it was September 22nd—the meal came to 19s. 10d.—I have the bill here—they had roast lamb and vegetables, sparkling hock, sparkling moselle, pudding, cheese, and afterwards tea—I should say the meal was between 2.15 and 3 p.m.—while they were sitting there Lady Violet asked me to leave the room for ten minutes—I did so and then came back—Lady Violet went away, leaving the other two—they remained a short time and then left together—I remember about a week before that seeing Lady Violet, the prisoner, and another gentleman dining there—I did not notice the other man particularly except that he was rather a Jewish-looking man—we have supplied food to the prisoner's residence—I should say we do not keep pies ready made; I do not know—we have received orders for pies from Lady Violet—I cannot say when.

Cross-examined. Lady Violet has been a good customer of ours, but not for luncheons—I have known her for about three years, coming in and out—she has sometimes had lunch, but very seldom with the prisoner—I recognise the gentleman sitting below you [Mr. Church]—I think he was there one Saturday—he is not the rather Jewish-looking man—I was not called before the Magistrate—I was asked to give evidence four or five weeks ago—I was asked to remember who had lunched there on September 22nd—we have no dinners.

Re-examined. We keep the customers' bills, but they are not dated.

WILLIAM ADAMS . I keep the Adams' Hotel, 339, Gray's Inn Road—I know a man named John Kirtley [Battle came forward]—that man has been in the habit of staying at my hotel for probably two years, as John Kirtley—on referring to my book I find he stayed at my place on September

20th, 21st, and 22nd—the time before that was June 4th—I saw him on September 16th—he said he would be coming up probably for a fortnight, would I reserve a room for him?

Cross-examined. I have never known Battle in any other name but Kirtley—he stayed at my place on April 18th last, also the 15th—this book is rather slovenly kept—he has stayed with us several times this year—he usually came to stay from Tuesday to Friday, going home on the Saturday—I only knew "Thirsk, Yorkshire," as his address—he has not been to us since September 22nd.

Re-examined. I had the conversation with Kirtley on either the Wednesday or Thursday.

HENRY HILLS (51 B. R.) During the third week in September last I was on duty in the neighbourhood of Sloane Street—I remember a man coming up to me and asking where Mr. Watt lived—I pointed out the house to him—I have seen Lightfoot since—he is the man who spoke to me.

THOMAS FOSTER BRADFORD . I am an overseer at the General Post Office—I produce the certificate of a registered letter addressed to "Mrs. Lightfoot, World's End, Sowerby, Thirsk"—it was handed in at the Knightsbridge Post Office on September 21st, 1905.

JESSIE WEEKS . I am a general servant at the Rose Hotel, Maidenhead—up to November 9th, 1905, I worked for a Mrs. Clarke at the Bungalow, Raleigh Road, Maidenhead—during the time I worked for her, there was a Bernard Abrahams living with her as his wife—I know the prisoner and Lady Violet by sight—I have seen them at the Bungalow [MR. AVORY protested that the Defence had had no notice of this witness and stated that it was quite impossible during the trial to make inquiries so as to test the witness's accuracy. The Judge stated that he was surprised at the conduct of the Prosecution, and said that the Defence should be given every facility to test the accuracy of the story]—I have seen them there about three times—the last time was, I think, about September last—I worked for Mrs. Clarke for two years and nine months—I saw in the newspaper an account of the prisoner's case at the Police Court—the last visit of the prisoner and Lady Violet was after I saw that account—I think Abrahams went to London once or twice—he used to go out sometimes every morning and come back in the evening to dinner—the last time I saw him was about October 13th—it was a Friday, I think—Mrs. Clarke told me something after he left—she received three letters after that by post—I do not know whose writing they were in—they were addressed to me, but by Mrs. Clarke's directions, I gave them to her—this (Produced) is a photo of Abrahams. [Cross-examination postponed at MR. AVORY'S request.]

GEORGE BENNING (Inspector, Berks Constabulary). I am stationed at Maidenhead—I know Bernard Abrahams well—I used to see him nearly every day—I received a police telegram from London on, I think, October 16th—up to a day or two of receiving that I saw him—I have not seen him since.

ALBERT BALL (Recalled by MR. BODKIN). I went to 72, Knightsbridge, to search the house at 9 p.m. on August 17th—before I went there I had

heard something about peppermint from Marshall—it was while we were on the way to the Police Court to apply for a warrant, I believe [MR. AVORY objected to this evidence, and the Judge said it must be struck out]—I went to Sowerby with a witness summons and there saw Lightfoot—travelling up with me in the train he made some statements to me—he was arrested on October 12th, at 6.30 p.m.—after he made his statement at the Police Court he was kept under observation, but he was not formally arrested until we had the warrant signed—I searched him and found upon him this ink copy of the pencil memorandum.

By MR. AVORY. I served Lightfoot with a witness summons at Sowerby on October 11th at 9 p.m.—he was walking in front of me and I overtook him—I told him I recognised him as Norman Battle—he hesitated slightly at first, and then I told him he would have to come up to Marlborough Street.

WILLIAM ADAMS (Recalled by MR. AVORY). I find that Lightfoot stayed at my place this year on February 27th, 28th, March 6th to 10th, 14th and 15th, April 15th and 17th, June 4th to 7th, September 20th, 21st and 22nd.

THOMAS WORLEY . I am now living at 32, East Street, Theobald's Road, and am a newsagent—for about ten years I had a newspaper stall outside the Hyde Park Hotel at Knightsbridge—I supplied the prisoner with newspapers—his house was two doors away from my stall—I saw Lady Violet occasionally—I used occasionally to go errands for her—I went about August, 1902, for her to a firm of solicitors at Oxford Circus—the same day, after I returned, the prisoner came to me and said, "Would you like to earn some more money?"—I said, "I don't mind, if I have the time and if it is in my way"—he said, "Will you meet me at 3 o'clock in Hyde Park at the back of my house?"—I said, "Yes"—I met him—he said to me, "You seem to be a fellow able to give a good account of yourself"—I said, "What do you mean?"—he said, "You would not be afraid to strike anybody"—I said, "If anybody interfered with me I should try to interfere with them back again"—he said, "I mean this: I have had a woman following me about for a long time; she has had large sums of money from me and I intend to put a stop to it. I want you to go to White Hall (or White House) at Hampton Court and say you are an old servant named Howes, ask her to come out, and when she comes, give her a blow in the stomach as her inside is in a bad condition, and I will give you £10 for that—I said, "I do not care about" doing anything of that, as I have never done such a thing before"—he talked for a little while and then said, "In the course of your travels you meet with a lot of rough fellows"—I said, "Yes, I meet with all sorts"—he said, "Do you think you could get me two or three chaps; take them down there, give them about 5s. a piece and keep the rest for yourself"—I said, "I'd sooner not do anything like that, as it might get me into trouble"—he said, "You are missing a fine thing; she always carries about £70 or £80 worth of jewellery. It is easy done; you can entice her to the river, which runs close by, you can give her a blow and clear, out and be done with it"—I said, "I don't care about doing anything

of that"—he said, "Here is £5; take that and do the best you can. I will meet you to-morrow and if it is done I will give you another £5"—he gave me a stick that afternoon, saying, "Take this; if you cannot hit her hard enough give her a blow with this"—I took his stick—he told me the name of the woman was Seelieg—next morning he came to my stall and said, "How did you get on?"—I said, "Well, I sent them fellows and when they got there they said that Mrs. Seelieg was not staying there "—after a while, having walked about and considered, he came back and said, "No, I think them fellows have twisted you; they have not been there at all"—as a matter of fact, they had not been and I had no intention of sending any—after that I had to shift my business, on account of building operations, and secured a portion as a newspaper carrier on a bicycle—the prisoner had asked me for my name and address, and he wrote me a letter asking me to meet him—the letter is destroyed—I would have kept it if I had known this case was coming on—I was to meet him at 3 o'clock at the same place, but I never kept the appointment—some time after that as I was riding my bicycle I met him—he asked me how I was going on—I said, "Oh, very well"—he said, "Take this sovereign; I want you to go to the Howard Hotel, Norfolk Street, or to Courtfield Gardens, and find out if Mrs. Watt is staying there"—I was to let him know—I did not go at all—I again met him—he asked me, "Is she staying there?"—I said No"—I had not been to inquire—he said, "That is a d—nuisance. I shall have to put the private detectives on her track, and they are rather expensive; they cost £1 a day"—I left him and was to meet him on a future occasion when he found out where Mrs. Watt was staying—he said it would not do for me to be seen talking to him so often at the back of his house, he would meet me in the Green Park—I met him later on and he said he had found out that Mrs. Watt was staying at the Howard Hotel, in Norfolk Street, in the name of Watt—he said to me, "Have you still got that stick?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I want you to stop about there; watch your chance, if you see her to run into her, then give her a severe blow in the stomach and knock her down"—I said, "They might have me up for doing some robbery or violence to her; I would rather have nothing to do with that"—then after a little while he said, "Don't you think it would be a good idea if you were to hang about there with your bicycle, watch your chance as she is crossing the road to run into her and knock her down; I will give you £1 a week while hanging about on your bicycle; £50 if you knock her down and give her a severe blow, £100 if it leads to something else"—I found that "something else" meant if I killed her, so I said, "I will see what I can do"—I never troubled further—I was to make an appointment to let him know how I was going on—I did nothing—I saw him again some two or three days afterwards in Green Park—he said to me, "It is very funny; I have been to this place two or three times during yesterday and the day before and I never see you"—I said, "Very likely, as I was riding about on my bike"—as it was cold, of course I was riding about—he said, "You will have to keep a closer watch; besides, it is essential that something should be done. I will tell you what I will do now: I will give you £1 a week while

you are hanging about, £50 if you hurt her, and another £100 and £1 a week for life if you kill her, and I want this done as quickly as possible "—I had to make another appointment—I never troubled about waiting about the hotel—I met him—he gave me a sovereign occasionally and sometimes £2, but that was towards the end—he had said to me, "It is essential that something must be done; as soon as you write me the letter that you have knocked her down, put down in it the word "Done' and I will meet you and give you the £50"—I was not to put anything else in the letter and I was to address it simply "Mr. Watt"—this was about October, 1902—his address, I believe, was then 20, Albert Gate, but I think they have altered it to another name now—he said as soon as he received the letter he would meet me the same evening and give me £50—he met me the same evening and gave me a little bag with £10 in gold in it, saying," Take this £10; if I find out that she is seriously hurt I will give you the other £100"—he said, "Did you knock her down? Did you seriously hurt her?"—I said, "I did not stop to see, as I rode away"—he had said to me, "Don't stop to see; ride away if you can, then they won't make much inquiries, take not much notice of it"—two days after that he said he would go and find out how Mrs. Watt was—I met him two nights after that—he said, u I cannot make it out; I have been and inquired. Mrs. Watt is not confined to her room, and she is able to go out; this seems very funny. Did you really give her a severe hurt?"—I said, "I did not trouble to see"—he said, "Perhaps you knocked the wrong woman down"—I said, "Perhaps I have"—he said, "I want you to take this photograph. Of course you must not go by that too much; she is much stouter now. Study the features well and you will recognise Mrs. Watt by that"—I took the photograph—he said, "Don't you think it would be a fine thing if you were to dress yourself up really smart, go to the Howard Hotel, take rooms and watch your chance to get into Mrs. Watt's room, give her a blow and chloroform her; I can get the chloroform for you to give her when you have done it!"—I said, "I don't much like to have anything to do with it"—he said, "I have been good to you; do you think you can find me a man who has done manslaughter or something of that?"—I then thought of a man I had seen hanging about—I said, "I will do my best to see if I can find you a man"—when I found him I was to fetch him to Green Park, the same place where I had been meeting him—I knew the man I meant as "Nosey"; I did not know his real name—I saw "Nosey" after this conversation and took him to meet the prisoner—the prisoner said, "Is this the man?"—I said, "Yes, this is the man"—he said to "Nosey," "Have you done any time?" or something of that—" Nosey" told him he had—he said to him, "It is like this here; what name shall I call you?"—" Nosey" said, "Call me 'Jim'"—the prisoner said, "Well, Jim, I want you to go to the Howard Hotel, take rooms there and watch your chance; get into Mrs. Watt's room, give her a blow and chloroform her. It can be done, by getting all right with the housemaid and giving her a present. Watch your chance, secrete yourself in her room and give her a blow and chloroform her"—" Nosey" said, "Very well"—he gave

"Nosey"£5 to go there to take the rooms and buy some clothes—the prisoner further said, "Shall I get the chloroform—I believe "Nosey" said, "Well, I will get it"—I did not listen to all their conversation; I left them together—out of the £5 given him, "Nosey" gave me £2 10s.—it was arranged that "Nosey" was to come again two days after to let him know how he was going on—we met the prisoner, who asked "Nosey" how he was going on—"Nosey" said 'Mrs. Watt was not staying there, she had gone to Harrogate'—the prisoner said, "The best thing you can do is to go to Harrogate, find out where she is; she generally stays at the Prince of Wales Hotel, Harrogate"—they had some more conversation after that, which I did not hear—the finish of it was that we had to meet the prisoner again two nights afterwards—we met him and he said, "I don't want no more to do with this man; he is a liar and a scamp. She has not been to Harrogate at all"—he gave "Nosey" a sovereign that evening and "Nosey" went off—I did not see him again for eighteen months—the prisoner said that neither "Nosey" nor Mrs. Watt had been to Harrogate; as a matter of fact; Mrs. Watt was still staying at the Norfolk Hotel—I met the prisoner again after that—he said to me, "We had best let Mrs. Watt drop for a while"—he said at some time that he believed she had gone to Ascot House, Ascot; would I go down on my bike and find out if she was staying there?"If so, you will have a fine opportunity there, because there is nobody about. You can knock her about and then fall on her, jump on her, what you like; there will be nobody in sight"—I did not go to Ascot, but I met him two nights after to let him know how I was going on—that day it had been very muddy and I was in a rare state—he said "I can see what it is; you have had a bad journey"—I said, "Yes, I, have had a bad journey"—he said, "I don't suppose you will be sorry when you are at home"—he said, "Did you go to Ascot?"—I said, "I went to Ascot. I never see her there, and I don't think she is staying there"—he said, "I think we will let her drop for a while; I have got something else in hand"—I think he gave me £2 that night—this was somewhere about November, 1902—I had, I should think, about £50 altogether from the prisoner—I have not got any of his letters—I kept them at home in a drawer for some time and then they got thrown away.

Cross-examined. I had known "Nosey" at that time for about two years—I had been in his company once or twice—I did not know he had been convicted—I knew him as a man hanging about—I never knew him to interfere with anybody or cause anybody any bodily harm, and I thought he would be just the one to take to the prisoner—it was not our idea to get money out of the prisoner; if he liked to give it, he would; but if he did not, he would not—I thought we would get money, but not by telling lies; we did not think anything of that kind—I arranged with "Nosey" to divide anything we got—it would not have been honest to have done what the prisoner wanted—he came to me because I sold newspapers and thought I would do anything for him, but he found out his mistake—it was not an honest way of getting money out of the prisoner—I know now that "Nosey's" real name is Shuttle—I said at

the Police Court that the reason I selected him was because he never had the heart to work for a living and never had the heart to thieve for a living—I cannot say how many times altogether I obtained money from the prisoner by telling lies, as sometimes I never told him any lies at all—he gave me the money to keep the meetings, and as I was not doing nothing for it, I took his money—the biggest sum I received from him at one time was £10 and the smallest £1—I thought he meant what he was asking me to do—I never Mentioned the matter to anybody but Shuttle—the prisoner had no character from me as to whether I was a betting man or addicted to violence—he did not ask me if I was prepared to assault anyone or willing to do so if paid for it—for all he knew, I might have gone straight away to a policeman and told him about it, but he was a man of position and a Member of Parliament, and I simply sold newspapers, and he might have got somebody to say different to me and nobody would have believed me—I never did inform the police; they came to me while I was at work, after the prisoner was charged—I am quit sure the prisoner gave me the stick on the first occasion I met him—it is lost—it was an ordinary dark brownish walking-stick, with a very heavy knobbly head—I do not remember saying at the Police Court about" running straight into her and giving her a blow with the stick in the stomach"—these things occurred three years ago, and I have had to think of all this by memory—on one or two occasions I took news-papers to the prisoner's house; he would ask me to leave them and I pushed them under the door—I do not know whether he was well known as living in the neighbourhood—he gave no reason for telling me to write him as "Mr. Watt," except that it might be noticeable—I say that having said "Nosey" was a liar and a scamp, he gave him a sovereign—" Nosey" was to write me a letter pretending he had been to Harrogate, but I do not remember receiving one—if you like, you can put it that it was for the mere purpose of obtaining money from the prisoner by false pretences—it was to show that he had been there when he had not gone.

Re-examined. The police came and took my statement in September this year.

Monday, December 18th.

JAMES SHUTTLE . I am living now at Brook Street, Holborn, and there are six convictions against me altogether—I was convicted of assault in March, 1904, and I served the sentence in Pentonville prison—I have a lot of nick-names; I have never been called a nick-name until it was put in these ha' penny papers—I have been called "Nosey" a long time—in November, 1902, I had some communication with a man named Worley, who had a paper stall at Knightsbridge, just outside the hotel—as a result of that I met him at Hyde Park Corner one evening and went with him to Green Park, where I saw the prisoner, with whom I had a conversation—he said to me," What shall I call you!" and I said, "Jim"—he said, "Have you ever done time?"—I said, "I have just come out from doing three years for killing a woman"—he said, "All women are wicked. I want you to do a job for me. Stay at an hotel in Norfolk Street, Strand. There

is a woman staying there in the name of Mrs. Watt. Here is £5. Get some chloroform, buy a jemmy and stay there. You can square the chambermaid to get the number of her room"—I said, "All right"—he gave me the number of her room as well, but I cannot recollect now what it was—he said, as regards the chloroform, "Put it in a handkerchief and hold it over her nose," and I said, "All right"—it was not the fact that I had done a term of imprisonment for killing a woman—as regards the jemmy, he said, "You want to burst open the door with the jimmy to get into the room. You can easily buy one"—he gave me £5 and said if I wanted any more money I was to let Worley know—Worley was standing a few yards away, not within hearing distance—that was all that passed between us on that occasion—he walked away and left us and I joined Worley and gave him £2 10s. out of the £5—the next day I saw Worley and had a conversation with him and on the Saturday night following that we went again to Green Park, where we again saw the prisoner—I told him Mrs. Watt had gone to Harrogate"—he said, "She will stay at the Prince of Wales Hotel, Harrogate. Why do not you follow her?"—I said I had no more money, and he then gave me another £5 in gold—he then left us and I divided the £5 with Worley again—shortly after I went to Euston and gave a letter to the guard to be posted by him at Harrogate to Worley, so he could show it to the prisoner—I never went to Harrogate—I afterwards ascertained from Worley that that letter was Bent to him—shortly after that I saw the prisoner in company with a lady at Albert Gate, Knightsbridge—he did not speak to me; he looked at me—on the same day I saw Worley, and after that he and I saw the prisoner in Green Park at 6 p.m. on a Saturday—he spoke to Worley first—he said to me, "You are a liar; you have not been to Harrogate. I have had a private detective and proved she has not left London, and I shall not give you any more money until you have done the job. Go and stay at the hotel at once"—I said, "I have got no money," and he gave me a sovereign"—that was all the conversation—I kept the whole of that sovereign—I did not go to the hotel—he mentioned the name of it, but I forget it; it was the same hotel as before; she was still staying there—I did not see the prisoner till about the beginning of January, 1904—I went then to Walham Green to see Worley—I had a conversation with him and as a result of that I went to the prisoner's house, 20, Albert Gate, at 6 p.m.—he opened the door—I said, "Tom sent me. You want a job done"—he said, "Walk towards Hyde Park and I will be out in a minute"—I walked towards Hyde Park and after a short time the prisoner joined me—he said, "What shall I call you?"—I said "Arthur'—he said, "Have you ever done time?"—I said, "I have just come out from doing five years for hitting a woman over the head with a bar of iron'—that was not true at all—he did not seem to recognise me in the least—he said, "There is a woman living at 15, Chapel Street, name of Mrs. Watt. I want you to do her in for me"—he said Chapel Street was at Grosvenor Place—he told me to get some operating chloroform and he gave me 2s. and told me to go and have a steak, as he said I looked bad—he said, "I will meet you at 9 o'clock at Hobart Place, Victoria"—he said, "Come

to my house in twenty minutes' time and say your name is Howes, you used to be my valet at St. George's Square"—I was to get a pair of boots—he said he would give me £100 as soon as the job was done—he mentioned Hobart Place as the place where I was to meet him after I had been to his house—after twenty minutes or so I went to his house—he opened the door and gave me a pair of patent boots wrapped up in brown paper—I wore them for two or three hours and pawned them at Young's in King's Cross Road, the next day, because they were too big for me—I cannot tell you the name I pawned them under—I sent a woman in to pava them—when the prisoner gave me the boots he told me to meet him at 9 o'clock at Hobart Place—the woman who pawned these boots of mine was a cousin of mine named Doncaster, but I do not believe she pawned them in her right name—I went to Hobart Place and saw the prisoner—he gave me a sovereign to get some chloroform and told me he wanted Mrs. Watt murdered—he said, "As soon as you have done the job I will give you £100. When you go and see her, say you are a brother of Howes, who used to be my valet at St. George's Square"—I knew Chapel Street to be in Grosvenor Place—he told me Howes was in the Army in India—I was to say I was out of employment and ask her if she could do anything for me—he made an appointment for 6 o'clock the next night between Wellington House and Stanhope Gate; he said, "I will be there at 6 o'clock every night until you have done the job"—I did not go to 15, Chapel Street—I kept the appointment next night and told him that I saw a servant coming out of the house to post a letter, and that I had asked her if she was posting it to her lover and that she had said that she was posting it to Prince of Wales Hotel, Harrogate, where her mistress was—that was an invention; I had not seen any servant—he said, "That was very clever of you. You had better go to Harrogate at once and take a friend with you"—he said, "Where will you do it: in the train of the hotel? Doing it in the hotel would be best. I will go and get you some money"—he went indoors and came out and gave me £6 in gold and told me to go to Harrogate at once and stay at the Prince of Wales Hotel—he told me to meet him between Stanhope Gate and Wellington House at 6 p.m.; he said he would be there every night till I came back"—I met a friend of mine named Harvey, who was a tailor out of employment—I took him to "Gardiner's, Knightsbridge, and I bought two overcoats and paid a guinea each for them—I never went to Harrogate—we then got into a cab and went to the Tivoli Music Hall—I next went to Mrs. Watt at 15, Chapel Street, with Harvey—I saw her and had some conversation with her—on the day following Harvey and I went to Mrs. Watt's solicitors, Messrs. Russell, and we made a statement there to Mr. O'Malley—this is my statement, which was taken down in writing and signed by me in the name of "James Howes "(Produced)—we got 10s. each—Harvey made a statement, but he would not sign it—I saw the prisoner next between Wellington House and Stanhope Gate, but I did not speak to him—Harvey who was with me, spoke to him, and on coming back to me showed me a sovereign—on the night after I and Harvey were again in Hyde Park—I had given him an empty bottle labelled "Chloroform" which I got from a

chemist in King's Cross Road—I saw him go up to the prisoner and saw him speak to him, having the bottle in his hand—I saw the prisoner after that, but I never spoke to him—later I paid a second visit to Mrs. Watt's house and I was told to come back in half an hour's time—I returned—I was alone, but I had somebody waiting for me—whilst having a conversation with Mrs. Watt, Detective Tanner came and arrested me and took me to the Gerard Road police station—I then made a statement to Inspector Hayter, which was taken down in writing, I signing it in the name of James Shuttle, which is my real name—I am known by one or two names to the police—this is the statement (Produced)—I was sent to prison in March, 1904, for assault, two months afterwards, which I served at Pentonville—two or three days before I came out, which was on May 27th, 1904, I wrote a letter addressing it to "Mr. H. Watt, 20, Albert Gate, Knights-bridge," and handed it to the warder in accordance with the prison rule—letters are always opened.

GEORGE CLARK . I am principal warder at Pentonville—Shuttle was confined from March 28th to May 27th, 1904—he wrote a letter—a record is kept of all the addresses of the letters which are sent out for the purpose of posting—it is the duty of the principal warder of each division to make an entry showing who the addresses of the letters were—Shuttle was in my division, so it would be my duty to read the letter, enter it, and see that it was sent—turning to my record, I find on May 24th, 1904, he wrote a letter; the entry here is, "17217," the man's registered number when he was in prison: "J. Shuttle. Friend's name: Mr. H. Watt; to whom addressed: "20, Albert Gate, Knightsbridge"—I having read the letter, it would in the ordinary course go to the Governor or Deputy Governor to "be initialled, and then it would be handed out to the officer to post—it is impossible to keep a record of the letters that are posted. [The learned Judge intimated that that, on such evidence, was not sufficient to allow of the contents being read.)

Cross-examined. If there is anything wrong in the letter I underline it and submit it to the Governor or Deputy Governor, and he would exercise his own discretion.

Re-examined. If the Governor rejected the letter for any reason, the prisoner would he had down in front of him and he would tell him why he objected, and he would have the privilege of re-writing the letter or the letter would be suppressed—if that letter had been suppressed and he had written another one that which had been suppressed would be pinned in the man's prison record—there is no suppressed letter pinned in Shuttle's record—there would be an entry in this book to the effect that the letter was suppressed, and there is no such entry in connection with Shuttle.

JAMES SHUTTLE (Further examined). I did not see or hear anything more of the letter—after I came out I went to Kelly's Library, Shaftesbury Avenue, to make some inquiries—there was no letter for me there—I did not see or hear anything more of the prisoner until August this year—I read in the newspapers something in connection with him and I went to see Mr. O'Malley at Messrs. Russell's office and asked if he wanted me—

I then went to see Sergeant Fowler at Scotland Yard, where I made a statement which was reduced into writing and signed by me in the name of James Shuttle, the date being August 28th—this is the document I signed (Produced).

Cross-examined. The last time I was in prison was May 27th, 1904—between that date and August 28th I made no attempt to see or communicate with the prisoner—I have known Worley on and off for years knocking about Knightsbridge with his stall—I was looking for work; I was not loafing about the streets—I had not been in the habit of going to the same coffee house with Worley; I have been in a coffee house while he has been there, but not regularly—I never told him what I was doing for a living, and he never asked me—he never said he missed me during some of the times when I went to prison—I do not know that he thought I was quite a respectable member of society—he knew I had to get my living somehow—he might have known that I was making my living by thieving; I never made any disguise of it—for fifteen months I have been living an honest life—it was not through Worley that I went to see the prisoner in January, 1904; I went to Worley in 1904, and I asked him the gentleman's name and he said, "You know; it is Mr. Watson," as I understood him—up to that time I did not know his name—I asked Worley in 1902, and he would not tell me—if I had asked the prisoner his name he would not have told me; I did not ask him—in 1904 I understood his name was Watson until I had a look in the directory—I appreciate that this interview in 1904 is almost precisely the same as I had with the prisoner In 1902—at the conclusion of my evidence at the police Court on September 22nd after I had been speaking of the interviews in 1902, I concluded with, "That finished what I had to do with Mr. Watt and Tom"—that had no reference to my account of the interview in which I said I had been to Harrogate and the prisoner said that I was a liar and gave me a sovereign—that concluded my dealings with the prisoner—T kept the sovereign on that occasion—I had agreed to go halves with Worley, but I had all that sovereign—in January, 1904, I apparently was a complete stranger to him—he did not ask me who "Tom" was—I am sure "done in" was his expression; I knew that it meant murder—it might be an expression used by criminal classes—as to the chloroform, both in 1902 and 1904 he said, "The best thing to do her in with is to get some operating chloroform"—he did not ask me in 1902 how much the chloroform would cost—in 1904, on his inquiring, I am quite sure I said it might cost £5, or words to that effect—I said before the Magistrate that I said "15s. or a sovereign"—I said a sovereign to the best of my recollection—there was nothing about a jemmy in 1904—in 1902 he said I was to square the chambermaid so as to get into Mrs. Watt's room—I have said before the Magistrate that, in 1904, he asked me whether I was going to do it in the train or in the hotel when telling me to go to Harrogate—in 1902 he did not ask to see the chloroform And jemmy that I said I had bought—he trusted me implicitly and took my word as a gentleman—in 1904 I got some money from him, but I did not share it with Worley, as he had nothing to do with it then—I had

nobody in 1904 with whom I shared the money—I gave Harvey a few shillings, but not much—I knew that Worley got the letter that I sent to Harrogate to be posted to him, because he showed it to me—I have not heard Worley say that he never received it—I do not know where Harvey is now—I do not think he does any stealing—his father has got plenty of money—he is twenty-six or twenty-seven—I saw him last in March this year, and I have not seen him since—in January, 1904, when we first went to Mrs. Watt's, we got half a sovereign each—my convictions began in 1894, my first being for stealing from my brother's house; the next in 1900, for stealing behind a bar, where I was employed as a barman; another for stealing from a person in a cab; one in 1901 for stealing from furnished lodgings, and in July of that year one for robbing a person in the street of a watch and chain; we had all been drinking and there was a friend with me who helped in that robbery—he is leading an honest life now—I said before the Magistrate, "My pal has done nothing since; it broke his heart"—in September, 1903, I was again convicted of attempted robbery of somebody in the street—on that occasion I gave the name of my friend, James Harvey—in March, 1904, I was convicted for assaulting a man who owed me some money; I gave him a hiding because he would not pay me—at Gerard Road I made an accusation against a woman of stealing my watch and chain and I had her locked up; for how long I do not know, and I do not care—it was not a false charge—I did not appear to prosecute her, because I was going to a race meeting the next day to back some winners, and for no other purpose—I know now that she was remanded in custody for a week—I did not say I was going down to the race meeting to get watches and chains; I said, "Also to see what I could find. I did not find anything. They did not catch me that time"—I had a watch and chain at that time—I was not living with my brother—I gave my brother's address when charging this woman—I said at the Police Court, with regard to the prisoner, "All I was after was money, and that was all Worley was after, I suppose"—I was not going to do murder; I went to get money—I did not go to Mrs. Watt the first time to get money; I went to warn her of her life—the last time I went to get money—I got altogether 30s. from her.

Re-examined. I am about thirty—before September 22nd, when I made the statement before the Police Magistrate, ending with the words, "That finished what I had to do with Mr. Watt and with Tom," I had made my statement at Scotland Yard on August 28th [MR. AVORY said that in putting the question he was only drawing attention to the fact that what the witness had to do with Mr. Watt and Tom ended in 1902, so far as the combination of Mr. Watt and Worley was concerned, and that he did not suggest that the witness had never said before that something happened in 1904. The COURT intimated to MR. MATHEWS that if there was anything in the witness's statement to the police on August 28th showing that Worley was in any way concerned with it in 1904, he could use it]—I said in my statement on August 28th, "I then had nothing more to do with Watt till January, 1904, when I saw Tom at Walham Green and I spoke to him—Worley had nothing to do with it in 1904, except that I got his address from him.

CHARLES O'MALLEY . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Charles Russell &Co., solicitors, of 37, Norfolk street, Strand—for a great many years Mr. Russell has acted as solicitor to Mrs. Julia Watt, and on her behalf conducted the divorce petition of 1901 and the libel action, in reference to which the date of judgment in the House of Lords was April 3rd this year—it has been re-entered, on May 22nd, and is waiting for trial in the present week's list—the decree nisi being made on March 5th,. 1903, no application has been made since to make it absolute—on January 16th, 1904, Shuttle and another man, who gave his name as Harvey, came to the office, and Shuttle made a statement which I took down in writing and he signed—I knew through Mrs. Watt that they were coming—this is the statement Shuttle made, when he posed in the name of "James Howes"—Harvey also made a statement, but he refused to sign it—I think his address is part of the statement—I gave them 10s. each—not long after, owing to a communication I received from Mrs. Watt, I communicated with the police at the Gerard Road police station, from whom I received a report with another document—no further action was taken at that time.

Cross-examined. No action was ever taken either by myself or the police upon those statements—I do not recollect that either the prisoner or his solicitors were informed of them—it is possible my principal may have made the communication—the prisoner put in an answer to Mrs. Watt's petition for divorce in 1901 on the ground of cruelty and adultery—to my recollection he did not instruct counsel—in 1895 there was a petition for divorce on the grounds of cruelty and adultery, which suit was defended and tried by a Jury—the Jury found that the charges of cruelty were not established—Mrs. Watt's third petition the prisoner did not defend; formal appearance was entered, but no appearance at the trial—since the decree nisi there have been negotiations going on between the prisoner and Mrs. Watt from time to time with a view to a settlement of the differences between them, and these negotiations being renewed at the end of August or September—they had stopped some months before that.

By the COURT. They stopped some months and were then renewed at the latter end of August or September of this year.

Re-examined. I made no communication to the prisoner or his solicitors, and I have no recollection of any communication being made from the office—the renewal of the negotiations would be after the prisoner was charged in the case.

CATHERINE RICE . I am the wife of William Rice, a printer, and am a sister of Worley—I live now at 7, East Street, Theobald's Road, but used to live at No. 2, where my brother used to visit me from time to time—he had letters addressed to him there, and I saw them when they arrived and when they had been opened—the envelope was written in ink, and the inside was written in black lead pencil—the envelope was of commercial size, and it was a small slip of paper inside—I gave them to my brother when he arrived. [MR. AVORY objected to the witness giving contents of the letters, which objection was upheld by the COURT.]

LOUIS SEELING . I live at Hillsborough, Ascot, and Mrs. Watt is my wife's sister—in July my wife and I were staying at White Hall, Hampton Court, an hotel—Mrs. Watt was staying there at the same time, but she was on her own—looking at my diary, I see that Mrs. Watt arrived on August 2nd at White Hall; on August 25th Mrs. Watt and my wife left by the 2.20 train for Harrogate from King's Cross; on September 26th went up to Harrogate by the 1.40 train and found my wife still there, but Mrs. Watt had left; October 28th, 29th, and 30th I went to Howard's Hotel to make a call on Mrs. Watt and I saw her there—on March 2nd, 1903, Mrs. Watt came and stayed with me at Ascot, remaining till April 27th—this is a photograph of her taken, I should think, at least twenty-five years ago.

ANNIE MORTIMER . I am the manageress of the Howard Hotel, Norfolk Street, Strand, and I have the hotel books here—I know Mrs. Watt—turning to my books for October 22nd, 1902, I find she was staying at the hotel from October 22nd to November 11th, 1902, and again from January 24th, 1903, to February 9th, 1903.

ARTHUR MARTIN . I am an assistant to Mr. Young, pawnbroker, of King's Road, Chelsea—turning to my book (Produced), I see on January 14th, 1904, that a pair of men's boots were pledged on that day for 1s. 6d. by a female in the name of "May Till, of 10, Manor Street, Chelsea"—they were redeemed on January 8th.

By the COURT. They were "men's boots" so described.

HUGH ROSS . In January, 1904, I was in the employment of Gardiner &Co., tailors, of Knightsbridge—I produce a bill dated January 14th, 1904, which says that we sold two overcoats for a guinea each, I believe, to the same person, who paid cash at the time.

WILLIAM HOWES . I am a gardener—I used to have a son named Henry William Alfred Howes, who was in the prisoner's service in 1890 and 1891—the prisoner was then living at 101, St. George's Square, I think—my son went into the Army, went to India and died in India in 1898.

ELLEN THOMPSON . I was formerly in the service of Mrs. Watt at 15, Chapel Street, from November, 1903, to January, 1904—a man I have heard in the name of Shuttle came to the house in January, 1904—I do not think anyone was with him—I forget whether he saw Mrs. Watt that time or not—he came two days later, and I showed him into the morning room—I think he saw Mrs. Watt on that occasion.

TOM TANNER (Sergeant, Metropolitan Police). On January 30th, 1904, I received a communication, in consequence of which I went to 15, Chapel Street, about 6 p.m., when I saw Mrs. Watt, who made a communication to me—I waited in the house until Shuttle arrived—he went into the dining room on the ground floor, where Mrs. Watt went also—I stayed outside the door, which was partly open, and I heard some conversation—I went into the room—I took Shuttle, whom I knew and who knew me, to the Gerard Road police station, where he was seen by Inspector Hayter.

HENRY HAYTER (Pensioned Inspector B.) In January, 1904, I was in charge of the Detective Department of the B Division—on January 22nd, 1904, I received a communication through a firm of solicitors and I saw Mrs. Watt, to whom certain instructions were given—Tanner was one of my officers at that time—on January 30th I went to Gerard Road police station, where I saw Tanner and Shuttle—Shuttle made a statement to me, which I wrote down at the time and read over to him and he signed it; this is it (Produced)—a day or two afterwards I had an appointment at Messrs. Russell's office, but the person with whom I had the appointment did not attend there.

H. FOWLER (Further examined). I have seen the prisoner write several times—I have seen the two original telegrams produced by the Post Office, purporting to have been sent by the prisoner, and to the best on my belief they are in his handwriting—I have seen Lightfoot write on more than one occasion—I have seen two telegrams produced here, purporting to be in the handwriting of Lightfoot, and to the best of my belief they are in his handwriting.

The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "These ridiculous charges are baseless, and were put forward originally for the purpose of blackmail,"

JESSIE WEEKS (Recalled. Cross-examined by MR. AVORY). I said on Saturday that I had been with Mrs. Clarke for two years and nine months—she was about thirty-seven—Mrs. Clarke engaged me—I was firs asked to fix the date of any visit of 'the prisoner and Lady Violet to Mrs. Clarke's by Sergeant Fowler last Saturday week—I have no particular reason for remembering the visit.

Re-examined. There were three visits altogether over the whole period—the first Christmas I was at Maidenhead I saw the prisoner—the next time was on a Sunday; I do not know when—it was in the winter time, I think—the third visit was in September.

Tuesday, December 19th.

T. TANNER (Further examined by the Court). In the conversation which I overheard between Shuttle and Mrs. Watt I did not hear any demand for money—I took him to the station to take a statement from him—I said he would have to come along with me, as his conduct was suspicious—I meant suspicious in the extraordinary story he was telling.

J. KIGHTFOOT (Further cross-examined). I think I know this paper called the "Hull Daily News "(Produced)—I see a paragraph headed "The Lucky Compositor "; it is supposed to refer to me—I have read it before to-day, but I did not see it at the time it was published—I cannot say how long after it was published I knew of it—that paper says it is the result of an interview between me and somebody else, but I do not think that is right—I had an interview, but I cannot say it was with a representative of that paper; if I did, it has slipped my memory—a report got about that I, John Kirtley Lightfoot, had just inherited £56,000 from my grandfather, but I did not set it about—I never told anybody that, but I know it has got about, because I had some money—I did not tell this interviewer that I had been away two and a half months in France, Spain, and Italy; I do not remember any such interview [MR. AVORY indicated

a gentleman in the well of the COURT]—I do not remember that gentleman at all (Extract of paragraph read): "I have been away two and a half months in France, Spain, and Italy, in each of which countries my grandfather had property and mining shares. I find I have become the owner of £35,"/50 in land, bills, etc., £17,375 cash in the bank, and £3,000 in shares. This is not the whole of the fortune, but with the property being in three countries, Genoa, Bilbae, France, it has taken a longer time transferring it to me. I have to come up to London to see about the final transference of it"—I cannot remember saying that to him—I know there was a report got about to that effect, and I never contradicted it—I had a few hundred pounds in my pocket, you see—I admit that I encouraged the statement because I hadn't got the heart to contradict it—after your having told me where the interview took place, I cannot now recollect it—I admit I was in Hull at this time, March 13th, 1905, for a short while; I had just come back from France—the money I had with me was seen and there were reports about it even before I got to Hull (Further extract read): "Mr. Kirtley Lightfoot was born thirty-eight years ago near Berwick-on-Tweed and was one of two sons"—I never remember telling anyone that; I was not born near Berwick-on-Tweed, and I am one of four sons—" He was brought up at Edinburgh, his father being a newspaper proprietor"—I did not tell him that, but my father all the same was editor of a newspaper, but not in Edinburgh—" His brother died two years ago when with him on a visit to Ramsgate"—I did not tell him that, but my brother all the same did die at Ramsgate, not two years ago, fourteen years ago—" And his father and two uncles being also dead, he became his grandfather's sole heir. He previously had a small fortune, but this he lost by an unfortunate speculation on the advice of a solicitor"—to my knowledge I never told any of this to anybody in Hull at this period—" It was for this reason that he came to Hull during the printers' dispute and took employment with Messrs. W. Kirk & Sons, printers, Chapel Lane"—I acknowledge that is well known; that is where I changed my name from Lightfoot to Kirtley—I was thoroughly hard up and I was a non-Unionist man—" About November I got the first letter, and it came as a great surprise, for I had expected that my grandfather had been dead twenty years. He went out to France fifty years ago, when he was about thirty years of age. I can remember sitting on his knee as a boy seven years old when he paid a visit to Scotland"—I never said that, to my knowledge, although I do remember similar things—I do not think I could have forgotten it if it did take place, but I question whether it ever did take place—I represented that it did take place, but I may have forgotten it—I admit, that on that same day March 13th, I had an interview with a representative of the "Daily Mail," but I did not tell him the same story; he said he supposed so-and-so about me, and I did not contradict it; it had got so far about—I am not aware that he asked me what my legacy consisted of, nor that I said, "Money and property mostly in Genoa, Bilbao, the south of France, and a little in Paris, but not much"—I think all this was a hoax on me by the people, because I had money in

my pocket; the report got about and I never contradicted it—I admit that I saw it in the papers, and I did not contradict it (Further extract read from the "Hull Daily News "): "No, I am not married, although the news had evidently leaked out whilst I was in Spain, and a lady there threw herself very much in my way, and she was a beautiful woman too "—he never asked me, "Is there a lady to share your fortune?"and I did not reply—I think that gentleman has had a conversation with someone else; that is my honest opinion—I do not remember him no this card (Produced); I never saw a card like that, to my knowledge—I am quite willing to own up to it if I got it; I owned up to the other for.

The prisoner, in his defence on oath, said that after being in business for fifteen years as a shipbroker in Glasgow, he entered Parliament for the Camlachie Division of that town; that he left Parliament in 1892, and, after liquidating his business, retired; that in 1880 he married Mrs. Watt, who obtained a judicial separation from him in 1895; that in 1901 there was a settlement between them, in which both parties abandoned all legal proceedings and in which he settled certain property on her which was to vest in the survivor; that Mrs. Watt had not carried out the agreement, but since that date till August, 1905, he had been endeavouring to put an end to all the disputes; that Mrs. Watt had obtained a decree nisi against him in 1903,which she had never made absolute; that on August 4th, 1904, he had called on her with a view to getting her to sign a document he had drawn up stating that in consideration of £600a year, which he would allow her for life, she would consent to make the decree absolute, and give up the settlement of 1901, and all legal disputes were to be settled between them, but that she refused to do so, her conduct being such that he applied for a summons for assault against her the same day at the Westminster Police Court; that the friction arose purely between Mrs. Watt and Lady Violet, with whom he was living, and he endeavoured to act as an intermediary as far as he could; that for the purpose of getting things in trim for a settlement of all disputes he consulted Mr. Bicknell, a solicitor, who introduced him to Mr. Sweeney, to whom Mr. Bicknell gave instructions to get all the disputes settled, he (the prisoner) not to interfere at all; that Mr. Sweeney introduced him to Marshall, who drew up the agreement which, after interlining the words, "And a settlement of all disputes," he signed; that he should not have done so had he known that Mr. Sweeny was going to leave town; that Mr. Bicknell also having left town, he was left with Marshall as the sole agent in the matter; that on August 11th, the date of his signing, the agreement, Marshall telephoned him that he had learnt Mrs. Watt had decided to go to Ostend, on which he (the prisoner) said that he did not believe it and that if that was the sort of information he was going to be given he would give him forty-eight hours to finish the inquiry; that this led to a stormy interview, and Marshall called upon him the same evening and offered to follow Mrs. Watt for £250under certain circumstances, but he refused to pay it; that Marshall told him from the result of the interview he had had with Mrs. Watt he thought he could get her to sign the agreement but that he (the prisoner) said the situation would be met if she left London, and had he known she was doing so he would not have employed him, and they had better end it; that also on that occasion Marshall informed

him that Mrs. Watt had a bill on her house, "To Let"; that the interview ended by his practically having to put Marshall out; that on the 14th Marshall telephoned him saying that he had received a telegram from Mrs. Watt to him addressed "Ken-Lane, 5, Hangers Lane, Baling" making an appointment for him to see her and arranging to call on him (the prisoner) afterwards to report results; that he saw him that day in the library, when Marshall informed him that Mrs. Watt seemed to be changed and would not discuss the agreement; that he was still in hopes of getting her to sign, but he must have money; that he gave him £10, saying that Mr. Bicknell had advised him to pay him only out-of-pocket expenses, which was the fact, but that Marshall said that that was no good to him and that he had now learnt that Mrs. Watt was going on a motor trip; that he said he equally disbelieved that, and refused to allow him to follow her, again repeating what he had said, that if the left town there would be an end to the friction between the two ladies, and said, "Your reports appear to me to be absolute fiction and you must go"; that on Marshall inquiring what the "funny" bottle he saw lying on his roll top desk was, he told him it was chloroform that he had obtained from Dr. Blake, of Putney, who had been attending Lady Violet; that he had got that originally for some experimental purposes for a gentleman who was offering him a patent; that there was also some other chloroform on the desk which he had had some time and which his wife used for her neuralgia; that on the 12th and 14th Marshall showed him two scurrilous post cards which he concluded came from his wife, on which Marshall said that if that was so he could get her twelve months, but that he (the prisoner) said he wished nothing of the sort; that on giving certain particulars to him Marshall said he could trace the writer; that he gave them to him and did not get them back, and then with difficulty, till the 17th; that during this time Lady Violet was in a little room leading out of the library; that on the next day Marshall came again at 5p.m. and saw him in the library when Lady Violet was again in the small room; that Marshall said that he had seen Mrs. Watt again, but that it seemed hopeless, and asked him again if he could follow on a motor car and he said "No "; that he said it depended upon when she let her house as to when she left England; that he (the prisoner) said it would be a good thing to get her to sign the agreement before she left; that he said, "It seems to me the purpose of my employment of you has been met; at all events, you apparently can do nothing, therefore you may consider yourself released as far as my employment is concerned "; that he had already practically dismissed him on the 15th, but in spite of that Marshall telephoned him that he had the most important information which was too long to tell by telephone; that he did not see him on the 16th but went to see him on the 17th to hear what the important information was; that he (the prisoner) said to Marshall. "What is your important information?"; that Marshall said, "What information do you mean?" that he said, "What you have telephoned me about to call and hear "; that Marshall seemed surprised and said, "I have no information; I have with drawn my agent in terms of your instructions"; that Marshall said, "What can you expect from £10?"that he (the prisoner) said he had done nothing to earn his money and rose hurriedly and dashed to the door, throwing it open; that he saw no one outside; that he (the prisoner) went home and sent word

to Marshall to send his account in; that at no time did he ever propose to Marshall about murdering Mrs. Watt; that he never mentioned Dr. Blake's name to Marshall; that it was untrue he ever told Marshall that he had hit Mrs. Watt with his hand; that he asked Worley to find out where Mrs. Watt was, as he wished to call and inquire how she was; that there was no truth in what Worley had said as to his wishing to injure Mrs. Watt or anybody else; that he never wrote to Worley; that he never gave him a stick, or a photograph of Mrs. Watt, as he had not one; that he never, to his knowledge ever saw Shuttle; that he could not say whether he ever received a letter from anyone who was in prison, as he received thousands of begging letters; that Lightfoot first wrote to him; that he had received hundreds of letters since the case was first published in the papers; that he sent the important ones on to Mr. Palmer; that he sent one of August 27th writing on it. "Dear Sir,—You might write this man. Have very many kind letters from all parts; not one against H.W."; that there was no truth in Lightfoot's story as to drawing up a statement; that Lightfoot came to him and said he could give evidence; that he (the prisoner) said he had plenty of proposals from people, but all they wanted was money; that Lightfoot said he was not a "sponger"; that he said he had not had anything to eat and he.(the prisoner) gave him something; that Lightfoot said he was leaving for Canada and that he (the prisoner) said it might be possible to interpolate his evidence; that Lightfoot never was asked to dine with them, but that as he (the prisoner) was going out with Lady Violet, Lightfoot followed them, and so he (the prisoner) asked him to have something; that it was quite untrue what Lightfoot had said as to his (the prisoner) making signs or winks to him at Mr. Palmer's office; that up to the time Lightfoot recanted his evidence, he (the prisoner) believed it was quite true; and that he (the prisoner) went to Maidenhead to find Abrahams, as Abrahams owed him a considerable sum of money. In cross-examination the prisoner stated that he never mentioned a fruiterer's business to Lightfoot and that Ball must have told him that; that Ball mentioned at the Police Court that he (the prisoner) was selling all his effects and was going to abscond; that Ball mentioned the fruiterer's business in Court and that Lightfoot was in Court and must have heard it; that he never said to Marshall that he had given £2,000to Bernard Abrahams to murder Mrs. Watt; that on the occasion when Lightfoot and Bernard Abrahams were in his house together he did not introduce them, and that he at no time mentioned his name to Lightfoot; that to the best of his recollection the last time he saw or heard from Bernard Abrahams was on September 21st and that he did not know where he was now; that he had only paid Worley a shilling or two for conveying his messages; that he had never come to his house, nor had he seen him in the park' and that he saw him at his stall when he wanted to know the answer to his messages; that, in fact, the chloroform he obtained from Dr. Blake never was used for experimental purposes; that Maloney must have misunderstood him in saying that he said he was a bit of a pugilist; that he never said he would get Mrs. Watt into Pentonville; that on thinking it over and on consulting Lady Violet he believed that Marshall had called for a few minutes on Saturday, August 12th; that he could not remember whether over the telephone he told Marshall that the

assault on Lady Violet was at the instigation of Mrs. Watt; that he did not tell Marshall on the 17th to bring Mrs. Watt to his house; that he knew she would not come, nor did Marshall ever suggest it to him, the only suggestion being for him to go with Marshall to see her, of which he did not see the feasibility; that he denied all Marshall's account of the conversation between them on the 17th; that on leaving Marshall's office he got home at 11.30 without delaying on the way; that on the 15th, on his refusing Marshall the £250, on going out he mumbled something about making it hot for him; that what led him to make the remarks he did when arrested was that at the first rush he thought Mrs. Watt had something to do with it. In re-examination he stated that he had never dreamt of any such charge being made against him; that prior to Bernard Abraham's bankruptcy in 1899 he had advanced him £1,300 on what he believed to be ample security, and that he had no reason to suppose that he was in any way a discreditable character; that when Bernard Abrahams was in prison he instructed a solicitor to get some assignments executed which were part of the security; that on his coming out of prison Abrahams gave him to understand that he could pay off the debt by instalments, and that is why, together with his knowing something about Marshall, he kept his connection up with him; that Abrahams had given certain information about Marshall, which had been very valuable in the case, but beyond making researches as to Marshall and giving information he had had nothing to do with this case; that there was no interview at which Light foot was present when any person representing himself to be Lord Kinloch or Rufus Isaacs was present. [The Foreman said that the Jury took it that they must rely entirely on Lightfoot's evidence as regards the meeting with the prisoner in the park to which the COURT assented.

Evidence for the Defence,

JULIA CHARLOTTE MARIA, LADY WATT . I have taken the name of Lady Watt by deed-poll—I have been living at 72, Knightsbridge, since March, 1892—I was married to the prisoner by the Registrar at Brighton after full discovery of all the circumstances to him [The Judge intimated that the Registrar's conduct should be inquired into. MR. AVORY stated that the Registrar had acted only after reference to headquarters]—the prisoner is very regular in his habits; he receives people on business between 9 and 10 a.m. and 5 and 6 p.m.—we always dined out, leaving the house about 6 p.m., or a little after, dining generally at the Monico restaurant—on August 25th we dined at that restaurant at 6 p.m., Mr. Church being with us—we remained there till 9 or a little after, the prisoner remaining in our company the whole time, when we returned home—after that time Lightfoot was never in my company in the presence of any person calling himself "Lord Kinloch," or "Lord Kintore" or any person calling himself "Rufus Isaacs"—there is no truth in his story that I ever sat down to dinner with him in my house at Knightsbridge in company with Lord Kintore, or anybody else—I remember the luncheon which has been spoken of at Searcy's restaurant on September 22nd, about 2 p.m.—we did not invite Lightfoot to lunch; he followed us down the street and sat down with us—that is the only occasion on which he sat

down to a meal with me—there was never any interview between him and any person calling himself "Rufus Isaacs," "Lord Kintore, or anything like that—I know a man named Bernard Abrahams by sight—there was never any interview between him and Lightfoot in which the evidence Lightfoot was going to give was discussed—the prisoner and I frequently go to Maidenhead, and I have been with him on two or three occasions when he has called upon Bernard Abrahams there—I was present on one occasion when I saw a Mrs. Clarke—we were there a few minutes on business—there never was any discussion at all about Lightfoot's evidence—we were dining in that week to Friday, August 25th, at the same hour [The statement made by Lightfoot as to one of the reasons why he had committed perjury was then handed to the witness]—this is a gross fabrication of lies and most libellous—[The COURT ordered the document to be re-sealed]—I remember the prisoner employing Marshall and the arrangement made—I only heard him when he called at the house on August 11th—I was in the library when he called on the 14th and I went out from there into a small room, the door of which opens into the library—I left that door open—Marshall did not see me in the library; I went into this little room before he came in—I retired in the same way when he came in on the 15th—on each of these occasions I overheard the conversation between him and the prisoner, and at neither was anything said by the prisoner proposing to murder Mrs. Julia Watt; not a word was suggested that she was to be chloroformed and Dr. Blake was to be called in, who would certify death to be heart disease, and so on—I heard Marshall ask the prisoner for £250—the excuse for that was to settle this agreement—I heard a reference made by the prisoner to the agreement—I had seen that document myself—at the time that reference was made to that document I saw Marshall take up a bottle and heard him say, "What is in that bottle?"—the door was not so far shut that I could not see; I saw perfectly—the prisoner said that was chloroform he had for inventive purposes, but I was to use it if I wanted it for different pains I have in the head—on the 15th Marshall again asked for £250 and the prisoner said, "No, I will not give you £250"—then Marshall went to the door and said, "If you do not give me £250, I will make it hot for you "; I heard those words—on the 16th I was in the hall when a telephone message came—there is a double receiver on the telephone, and I heard with one and the prisoner with the other—it was from Marshall, who said that he would like to see the prisoner, as he had something to tell him—the prisoner went away the next morning at 10.45 and returned home at 11.30 a.m., when he made a communication to me about Marshall—at 11.30 a.m. I heard him telephone Marshall to send in his account.

Cross-examined. My attention was not drawn to the date of August 25th till September—I do not remember when Lightfoot went into the box in Marlborough Street and recanted—if he did so on October 12th, my attention could not have been drawn to this date before that date—I do not keep a diary—we had been dining for a long time at the Monico; I should say from last January or February every night when we were in town; I cannot swear to every night—we have dined at very many places

besides the Monico, the Cecil, Prince, and the Savoy—I think we dined once at the Criterion, but it is a long time ago now; I should say that during the last year we have dined only at the Monico, from last January—we were in London from January to August, except when away for week-ends sometimes, but with those exceptions we have dined every night at the Monico down to the present date; almost invariably leaving the house about 6 or 6.15 p.m., the dinner lasting until perhaps 8 or 9—we dined at the Monico on August 24th—my memory had not to be revived as to who dined with us on the 26th—we did not often have people, and I remember the people who dine with us well—I have carried that in my memory—on August 26th we dined at the Monico—the prisoner and I went to Maidenhead, but not for the purpose of calling on Bernard Abrahams—I cannot remember when we called on him last; I think it was the end of August; I cannot remember whether it was September 17th—I am not sure whether it was a Sunday—we got back to dine at the Monico on the day we saw him—I have spoken to him—a long time ago I paid visits to him at Maidenhead with the prisoner—some time ago on his introduction I met Mrs. Clarke—I should say I have seen him two or three times at Maidenhead—some time this year, I cannot quite remember when, I saw him at Knightsbridge; some time in the autumn, I think, later than September—I have been very ill and I cannot remember all these things—I have no reason for fixing that as the time he came—he came with a message of business from Mr. Freke Palmer—I cannot say whether this was after or before the last visit to him at Maidenhead—on that day Lightfoot was in the hall, but he had no conversation with Abrahams; he passed into another room; Lightfoot was not there with him—I was in the hall at the time—they were not together in the hall—Abrahams remained in the house for a few minutes—Lightfoot was in the hall and Abrahams went through the hall, but did not speak to Lightfoot at all—the door opened and Lightfoot came into the hall—I was in the library at that moment the first time he came—the prisoner was at the door and brought him into the library; he said, "There is a man called 'Battle'. Would you see him?" and I said, "Bring him in; what does he want?"—he remained only a few minutes in the library—I believe he had a little cold meat, as he said he was hungry and had come a long way—he went downstairs, I believe, to have it—he had some cold meat, the remains of the servants', I believe—I do not think it was a pie—how many servants I had has nothing to do with this case—we had one or two; I forget now—I think it was two then—we had none who slept upon the premises—I mean women servants; we may have had one and we may have had two—I think the prisoner went down when Lightfoot was having his meal—he came up when he had finished and I saw him and spoke to him—he le't about 4.40 p.m.; I think he came at 4 p.m.—I should say he was there about twenty minutes—he handed me a document, which I looked at—I had heard about it already, because he had sent it some weeks before to Mr. Freke Palmer—I recognised the document he handed to me; it was recording that he had overheard a conversation—no more conversations occurred there between anybody—

I believe he said something about going to Canada, but I cannot remember much about that—I did not go to Maidenhead the day after his visit—I saw him when he came to the house the next Wednesday—it was my suggestion that he should be put up for the night—I cannot be quite certain whether I saw him on the Thursday when he came—if Thursday was the day when Bernard Abrahams came; I was there—I have never lunched with Bernard Abrahams anywhere, nor with a dark gentleman, Jewish in appearance—I saw Lightfoot when he came at 9 a.m. on Saturday—I had no conversations with Lightfoot and I never made any statement to him about the violence of the officers who had come to search the premises—I never said in his hearing that in consequence of their violence I had had a miscarriage—I would not speak to a common man on those subjects—this letter is my writing—it is written to the Chief Commissioner of Police, complaining of the results of the policemen's conduct, which had caused serious injury to my health; I have been more or less ill ever since—I do not wish to get other people into trouble, but I have an idea how Lightfoot had such an idea—I cannot invent a suggestion—in my hearing no mention was ever made to Lightfoot about a fruiterer's business—on August 14th I was in the room when Marshall was announced, and, as I was in my deshabille I went into the little side room—I did not go in there to overhear Marshall and the prisoner's conversation—the door of the little room is always open—he came about 5—the conversation then was entirely about trying to get Mrs. Watt to sign the agreement—on the 15th it was that I heard Marshall say, "If you don't pay me £250 I'll make it hot"—the £250 was for his expenses, but there were no expenses—I took it to be blackmail—I do not think I knew that Marshall was coming on the 15th—I always sit in the library, but as I was not dressed at that time I went into the little room—I did not go for the purpose of listening—I had my dressing gown on at that time—it was not the sort of dress to sit in with a stranger present—I keep my things in the little room—I never think about shutting doors—on the 14th the subject of the chloroform bottle was just touched upon—Marshall picked it up and said, "What's that?" and Mr. Watt said, "Chloroform," and that was all—I think I remember something being said at one of the Marshall interviews about post-cards—I think it was said that they were funny post-cards, nothing more—there was no mention of my having been assaulted at either of those interviews—I was once pushed up against by some boys—I have not attributed that to Mrs. Watt—it was not said that the post-cards came from Mrs. Watt—the prisoner never said so—I never heard him say anything against his former wife, not to me—he has always talked nicely about her—her name was very rarely mentioned between us—I did not hear Marshall say at the August 14th interview, referring to the post-cards, "If these are your wife's I can get her twelve months"—I did not hear the prisoner say that one seemed to come from one of her clubs, nor did I hear Marshall reply, "There is a lady friend of mine at Sloane Street and I will send her up to test the machines"—I cannot remember much of what happened when the police came, as I was very much upset—I did make a communication

to the Director of Public Prosecutions as to overhearing Marshall—that was on August 21st; it was sent to his private house.

Re-examined. The first I knew of the prisoner's arrest was when a policeman came to the house and told me—I have been ill ever since.

GEORGE FREDERICK CHURCH . I am principal managing clerk to Messrs. Michael Abrahams, solicitors, of Tokenhouse Yard—I have known the prisoner for upwards of twenty years—my firm have acted for him for some years—I am acquainted with the room called "The Library" and the little room which leads off it, at 72, Knightsbridge—this little plan I have here was made by me—the dimensions are all approximate, as I had no measure with me—it shows the position of the two rooms and the position of things in it—the little room I have called "Butler's Pantry"—it is very dark in there—I was not aware of its existence till the prisoner called my attention to it—you can from that room see all that takes place in the larger room; that is with the door ajar—there is no window to the pantry—it is about 10 feet deep—I did not notice if there was any carpet on the floor—on February 1st last I had an interview with Mr. Charles Russell and telephoned to the prisoner what I had done in consequence—I remember dining at the Cafe Monico with the prisoner and Lady Violet on August 25th—while this case was on at the Police Court my firm practically controlled the work, Mr. Palmer doing it under my supervision—Lightfoot, when he was giving his recanted evidence, referred to August 25th—the prisoner is a non-smoker.

Cross-examined. I am quite certain about the 25th.

PETER JOSEPH WIERTZ . I am superintendent of the Renaissance Room and the Banquetting Department at the Monico restaurant—the prisoner and Lady Violet have been in the habit of dining there for a year past—table 30 is reserved for them—our books show when that table was occupied—the table is very seldom engaged by anyone else, because it is too near the band—on August 25th table No. 30 was engaged for three persons—I know Mr. Church by sight—he has been there with the prisoner—on the 24th that table was engaged for two; the 23rd, engaged for two—I am certain that Mr. Church dined there on the 25th—that room is never full on August 24th—on the 23rd there were only nine tables engaged out of thirty or thirty-one.

Cross-examined. The prisoner always came in with the first customers to dinner, never later than 6.30—I cannot recollect that he has ever been late.

A. BALL (Recalled by MR. BODKIN). I attended the Police Court at the various hearings of this case—I was present when Lightfoot was first examined on September 22nd—he was the first witness called—he signed his evidence and at once left the Court—I saw him go up the street—I gave no evidence that day in his hearing—on October 12th I was again present when he gave his evidence—he was put into the box within a few minutes of his arrival—after his evidence the question f the prisoner's bail arose—the police raised some question about it owing to his behaviour to the witnesses—nothing was said then in public as to the prisoner's property or as to any action he was going to take

with regard to it—Lightfoot next appeared at the Police Court on October 13th on the prosecution against himself for perjury—he was then in custody—he remained in custody up to October 17th, when he pleaded guilty here and was sentenced—it was on November 1st that I first heard of the fruiterer's business; that is, to have definite information of it—I did not get it from Lightfoot; it was from inquiries we made—there was a remand of the prisoner to November 8th—it was then that the fruiterer's business and its disposal was mentioned—Lightfoot, of course, was not there then—I have never on any occasion said anything to Lightfoot as to the fruiterer's business.

By the COURT. The Magistrate increased the bail to two sureties of £500 each instead of one of £600.

By MR. AVORY. I am prepared to swear that the increase of bail was on that same day—I cannot disclose from whom I got the information about the business.

P. J. WIERTZ (Recalled by MR. MATHEWS). Looking at my book, I find that only table 30 was engaged on Sunday, September 23rd—on Sunday, September 10th, table 30 was occupied by two people—there were two other tables engaged—on September 15th, 16th, 17th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, and 23rd, table 30 was unoccupied—I have got some dates when the prisoner dined in the grill room.

By MR. AVORY. The prisoner and Lady Violet frequently dined in the grill room—I have seen the prisoner very often there.

[The learned Judge, in his summing-up to the Jury, stated that he ruled that the evidence of Lightfoot and certain witness called in corroboration of it was admissible in this case on the well-established principle that the conduct in litigation of a party to it, if such as to lead to the reasonable inference that he disbelieves in his own case may be proved and used as evidence against him, and cited Wills on Circumstantial Evidence.]

C. O'MALLEY (Recalled by the COURT). The prisoner's solicitors reopened the negotiations at the end of August or the beginning of September—I remember my firm wrote a letter on September 25th without prejudice to the prisoner's solicitors, making a certain offer in settlement of all matters between the prisoner and Mrs. Watt, expressly excluding the criminal proceedings, but that was not the re-opening of the negotiations; it was in answer to a suggestion made by them.

By MR. MUIR. Mrs. Watt had nothing to do with the criminal proceedings.

By the COURT. That offer was never accepted.

GUILTY . Five years' penal servitude.

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