Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 8.0, 26 September 2023), December 1845, trial of MARTHA BROWNING (t18451215-201).

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MARTHA BROWNING, Killing > murder, 15th December 1845.

201. MARTHA BROWNING was indicted for the wilful murder of Elizabeth Mundell.

MESSRS. BODKIN and CLARK conducted the Prosecution.

ANN GAZE . I am the wife of Edward Gaze, and am the daughter of the deceased—her name was Elizabeth Mundell—I reside at No. 11, Rochester-street, Rochester-row, Westminster—I have known the prisoner about six months—she lodged with my mother—that was not in consequence of my recommendation—a young man who came to our house, first introduced her to my mother—she had been lodging with my mother three weeks—she lodged in the same room with my mother, and slept with her—there was only one bed in the room—my mother lived at No. 1, Providence-place, Brewers-green, Westminster—on Monday morning, the 1st of Dec., as near as I can recollect, about a quarter to eight o'clock, the prisoner called at my house—I was in bed at the time—she told me my mother was very ill, that she had had a fit about seven o'clock, and she wished me to go round directly—I got up instantly, and went—the prisoner told me my mother had called out, "Murder, murder, what are you doing to me? what are you doing to me?"—as we went along, the prisoner told me that some person in the next room had knocked—I said, "Why did not you let her in?"—she said she was holding my mother's hands at the time—on arriving at my mother's room, I looked towards the bed, but did

not see my mother there—there were three chairs placed on the bed—I was then turning to come out of the room, and saw my mother lying on a box on her back—she was in her night clothes and nothing else—there was a cord round her neck about the thickness of my little finger—this now produced is it—(looking at it)—it was tied twice round her neck with a knot at the side, and the strings hanging down—it was tight round the neck—the knot wai the same that is here now—my mother was then quite dead—I moved her head, and tried to pull the cord to loosen it—I called out, and some persons came into the room—I was alone in the room at that time—I do not remember any one coming into the room till the baker's boy came and cut the string—the prisoner was not in the room before the baker's boy came—I went for a surgeon myself—he sent his assistant at first—it was before the surgeon came that the baker's boy cut the rope—an inquest was held on the body on that same Monday night—the prisoner was the first witness called at the inquest—after the inquest was over, she went back with me to my mother's lodging—the inquest was held in Dean's-yard, at the Coach and Horses or the Cart and Horses, I do not know which—the body was not removed then—some of the jury went into the room, and saw it—I was not there—I was down stairs—on the Monday night, after we came home from the inquest, my husband went with the person to lay my mother out, and when the bed was spoken of the prisoner said she would not have cared if it had not been for the bed—my husband had said he had seen something that he did not like, that the bed was wet—the prisoner was not present when he said that—I did not go up into the room then, and did not see the bed myself—the ptisoner kept close to me from the Monday night up to the Wednesday morning—she was constantly with me—she never left me.

COURT. Q. She must have left you while you were in bed? A. I sat up all Monday night—on Tuesday night I laid down, and she laid down by my side, and on Wednesday morning she was taken into custody.

MR. CLARK. Q. Do you remember the prisoner saying anything to you on the Monday night? A. I cannot recollect—she said so many things that I cannot recollect—my landlady can—she was sitting up with me, and she has a better recollection than I have, for I was so excited at the time I did not notice what she said—on the Tuesday afternoon, in consequence of something the prisoner said to me, I went with her to Bedford-street, Covent-garden—she offered to lend me a sovereign—she told me she had saved 15l. in service, and that she had got it in Bedford-street—she did not say where in Bedford-street—I went with her to the corner of Bedford-street, the corner in the Strand—she desired me to wait there—she was not more than ten minutes away from me—she then returned, and said she bad a 5l. note—she said if I had money sufficient, she would not change it till next morning—she did not tell me why she had put her money in Bedford-street—she said her master, a captain somebody, whose name I cannot recollect, had recommended her to this person to save her money—we then went home together to my house in Rochester-street—I slept at my own house on the Tuesday, and I sat up on Monday night at my own house, not at my mother's—the prisoner was constantly with me at my own house—she did not go back to sleep at her lodging where the corpse was—on the Wednesday morning my landlady and her sister and the prisoner went up with me to see my mother—the prisoner there kissed the body, and turned round to me and said, "Do you think she is happy?"—We then came out—my husband asked me if I had any money—I said, "No"—this was in the prisoner's presence—I said to her, "Martha, you have got that note with you; go over the way and get it changed"—my husband offered to go for her—she would not let him, but went herself—she

went to the Blue-coat Boy—I saw her go into the house—she then came out, and said to my husband, "Oh, they have played a trick on me; they have given me a Bank of Elegance instead of a Bank of England note"—my husband then asked her to let him look at it—she hesitated—I said, "Oh, Martha, let us look at it"—she then gave it to him—after my husband had it, he colled me on one side and said something—he showed me the note—he then returned the note to her—he then asked her to let him look at it again—that was at the corner of Rochester-street—it all happened in the street—where she first showed it me was close by my mother's house, not in the house, but in the street—when he asked her again to look at it, at the corner of Rochester-street, she gave it him again—my husband then said, "I must know where you got this note from, Martha; my mother had two"—she said, "Oh, Mr. Gaze, she had, she had!"—her words were, "She had, Mr. Gaze?" repeating it twice, inquiringly, of my husband—he returned her the note again—while it was the second time in my husband's possession I took notice of it—I knew that it had belonged to my mother—I knew it by the grease on it, and the dirt—there were two grease spots on it at the corner of the note, more towards the corner—I had seen that note in my mother's possession several times—we then went in doors to our own house—I there asked the prisoner to let me look at the note again—she let me look at it, but hesitated very much to let me have it, and she made a snatch at it while I was looking at it—I folded it up, and kept it in my possession to give to my husband—he was not there then—he was gone down the street—I gave it him afterwards—when the prisoner snatched at it I said, "Martha, I shall not let you have the note until I know where this has come from"—she then went down stairs into the yard—she said she was going to the water-closet—my mother usually kept this note in a little housewife in her pocket—I have seen the one note there—I have since seen the housewife—my husband showed it to me—he found it in the bed in moving the bed-clothes—this now produced is it, and this is the note—(produced by Inspector Partridge)—this is the note I gave my husband—I know it by these grease spots in the folds.

Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. How lately before the morning on which you found your mother dead had you seen her? A. That day week—I had seen the note when my mother lived with me in Kensington, I should say nearly or quite three months ago, or it might be a little more—I cannot tell where she got it from—it was in my father's possession before he died—he has been dead more than two years—he was in the army—my husband is a soldier in the guards—my mother would sometimes have a little to drink—she has sometimes taken sufficient to induce me to remonstrate with her; not so very often—she had done so often enough to arouse my indignation, and to induce me to remonstrate with her—I had not seen her in that state for some time, I cannot say when.

Q. Do you know, or have you ever heard, that your mother had endeavoured to destroy herself? A. I recollect my mother once took poison, she said, in a mistake—she had some poison about in a mistake—it was during my father's lifetime; I should say about three years ago—she was living in Douglas-street at that time—our family has seen better days—my mother was not very low-spirited at times—she sometimes had a little to drink—she was not a regular drunkard—I do not know what poison it was she took—when I got there, my father told me mother had taken some poison—my mother told me she had taken it by mistake—she did not take it to destroy herself—she was not ill for more than a day or so after—she had an emetic—I was in bed when the prisoner came to give me notice that my mother was

ill—she did not wait half an hour—I should say, from the time she came till I went to my mother's was not more than a quarter of an hour—I did not state at that time, before I got to the house, that if my mother did not alter I should be obliged to have her put into the workhouse—I could not; it was out of my power to do so—I never said so, nor anything to that effect—when the prisoner said my mother was ill, I said, "If my mother dies to-day, before to-morrow, I have nothing to answer for"—I believe those were the words—I did nut add, if she did not alter I must see if I could not have her put into the workhouse—when I got to the house, I went up stairs, and the prisoner followed me—I then called out that my mother was dead—the prisoner ran down for assistance—she did not come into the room—I believe she asked Mr. Nightingale to come up—whether he did or not I cannot say—some person came into the room and said, "She is dead," but who it was I cannot say—some one at the room door said she was dead, and they could not touch her—the prisoner went down stairs and called for help—I do not know who fetched the baker's boy—I did not fetch him—I do not know by whose request he cut the cord—he did cut it—I do not think the prisoner was in the room when the baker's boy came—I do not believe that Mrs. Graham, the landlady, was in the room—I did not hear her desire the prisoner to rub my mother—somebody told her to rub my mother's stomach, and she did rub it, but I do not know who it was—I did not hear any one say, "She is not dead, she moves her eyes and her mouth"—I have heard my mother say that the prisoner was to pay 18d. a week for her share of my mother's bed—our circumstances were indifferent at the time—I asked the prisoner to lend roe some money, after she had offered it; it was well known we were in want of money—she knew it—I saw her go down stairs, and saw her go into the water-closet—I watched her go in from the top of the stairs—I then went into my room again—I did not see her come out—my mother was not subject to fits—I never knew her to have a fit—she was in the habit of drinking spirits—I was not present when the prisoner made a statement at the inquest—the Jury found a verdict of suicide in a state of insanity—I never heard of my mother taking anything by mistake, or doing any act towards herself, except the poisoning—I did not after my mother's death state that she had attempted to poison herself—I said she had taken poison once, as I said before—I said that, after I found my mother lying there—I do not myself know of any other cord than that found round my mother's neck—it was at the instance of myself and husband that the prisoner went out to get change for this note—I saw the prisoner at Queen's-square—she appeared in a fainting state, in the hands of two or three policemen, while the examination was going on—she appeared in convulsions a great portion of the time.

MR. BODKIN. Q. How many times did you attend at the police court? A. Twicee—the first time was on the Wednesday—she was then in this fainting state—in consequence of that, the matter was postponed to the Monday following—my mother would have been sixty-one years of age on the 4th of Feb. next—her state of health appeared very good when I saw her a week before her death—she was always in good spirits—I did not observe any difference at all in her manner on that occasion—she had 7s. of her own a week to live on—she did nothing to assist in her support further than having a lodger with her—she was not at all in distressed circumstances.

COURT. Q. When you went to your mother's, and found her dead, she had on her night things; did you examine those night things? A. They were taken off when she was laid out—I do not know what became of them—I did not notice them myself.

MARY CHESHIRE . I live at the house, in Providence-place, where Mrs. Mundell used to live, and lodged in the next room to her—I saw her for the last time on the Sunday morning about half-past ten o'clock, in my own room—she then appeared in very good health, and spirits too—about seven o'clock on the Monday morning I was awoke by a cry of "Murder!"—it was Mrs. Mundell's voice—I heard a second cry of "Murder!" in the same voice—I then got out of bed; and as I was making way to my door, I heard Mrs. Mundell cry out, in a loud tone of voice, "What are you doing? what are you doing?"—I then went to the door of her room—I found it fastened on the inside—I hammered at the door—nobody answered—I rapped again, and asked what was the matter; and the prisoner answered, in a low tone of voice, "Nothing the matter," as I understood her—I had never seen the prisoner but three times all the time she slept with Mrs. Mundell, which was three weeks—I am positive it was her voice that answered me, and after receiving that answer I went back to my room, and went to bed again—I heard no more noise or calling out—in about a quarter of an hour afterwards I heard the prisoner come out of the room, and go to a cupboard adjoining my room—she then shut the cupboard door, and knocked at my door—I said, "Come in"—she came in, and came to my bed-side, with some fire-wood in her hand—there was fire-wood kept in the closet—she said that the old lady had been very poorly—I wished her to go for her daughter, Mrs. Gaze—she stopped for a moment, and then said, "I think I will"—I said, "Don't think you will, but go for Mrs. Gaze"—she then went out of my room, and shut my door, and went into Mrs. Mundell's room—I heard her go in, and shut the door after her—she came out again, shut the door after her, and came into my room, with her bonnet and cloak on—she came to my bed-side, and said, if I heard the old lady make any noise, would I go in—I said I would—I heard no noise whatever, and did not go in—I got up, and dressed myself, and lit my fire, which was in the same room—I remained in my own room—I was on the stairs when the prisoner returned with Mrs. Gaze—I remained in my own room till then—I am positive no one had been into the deceased's room in the meanwhile—I heard no noise at all—there was none—the prisoner was gone, to the best of my knowledge, I should say twenty minutes—any one might go to Mrs. Gaze's from our house in five minutes, if they walked quickly—Mrs. Gaze came up the stairs first, and went into her mother's room—the prisoner was behind her—at the time they came up, the door of Mrs. Mundell's room was shut—I eannot say whether the key was outside or inside, but I believe it was inside—when they went in it was discovered she was dead.

Cross-examined. Q. How long had you known Mrs. Mundell? A. Three months, the time she had been in the house—she would sometimes take a little spirits—I never took any with her but once—I cannot say how long that was before her death—she used to get tipsy sometimes, but I did not see her always, on account of attending to my own work—sometimes I did not see her for two or three days—whether she was sober then or not, I cannot say—the prisoner was close behind Mrs. Gaze when she came up stairs—I was examined before the Coroner—I had never noticed Mrs. Mundell to call out either in the night or early in the morning before—Mr. Nightingale lodged in the back parlour—I do not know whether he is here to-day—I never heard of the deceased having attempted her life—I was examined twice before the Magistrate—I was asked on the first occasion whether I had said all I had to say, and I said, "Yes"—I added nothing more the second time than I have added now—Mrs. Mundell was a person in good health and very

good spirits—her health was particularly good—she was a strong hale woman.

EDWARD GAZE . I am the husband of Ann Gaze, the daughter of Mrs. Mundell. I had seen my mother-in-law about nine days before her death—she then appeared to be in her usual state of health—I remember this matter occurring, and the holding of an inquest on the Monday evening—after the inquest I went into the room in which the deceased had lived, for the purpose of having her laid out—after the woman I spoke to to lay her out had washed her, I went to take hold of the bed to pull it off on to the floor, and as I went to pull it over, the bed was all wet, the under side of it and the bed-sacking, but the top part of it was not wet—I believe it was a flock and feather bed—it was in a tick case—I also noticed wet on the under sheet—it was more on one side than in the middle—I should say the wet part of the sheet would have covered the wet part of the bed if it had been put on its proper side—the bed had apparently been turned over—the wet had not gone through the bed—I did not examine the deceased's night—shift to See whether that was wet—it was on the bed at the time—I should say if it had been wet at the time it would have been dry before that—this was after the inquest—the doctor had seen the body in the morning soon after death, before the inquest—it was after the inquest that I saw the wet—the prisoner went to my lodging, and staid there on Monday night and Tuesday—on tht Wednesday morning my landlady and her sister wished to go round and see the deceased, and I accompanied them because I had the key in my possession—the prisoner was with us, and she kissed the dead body, put her two hands together, and said, "God knows all"—when we came down stain she said, "Most likely you are short of money, Gaze; I know your wife has got some to draw on the Saturday, and I will lend you a sovereign"—I thanked her, and said I should be much obliged to her—she went acroir the road for the purpose of getting change of a 5l. note—I offered to go and get change myself, saying the landlord would know me, but she refused, and said she would go herself—she returned back in about a minute or two, and said the gentleman had played a trick upon her, instead of giving her a Bank of England note he gave her a Bank of Elegance—she did not mention any gentleman's name—I asked her to allow me to look at the note—she rather hesitated, and then gave it to me—when I saw the note I saw it was the same I had had in my hand many a time—I remembered it again—it was the deceased's note—I had seen it while she was living along with me at Kensington last summer—I had not seen the note since Aug. last—I had seen it frequently before that—I had it in my hand several times—the deceased bad two of these notes—I have seen them in her desk, and this one I have seen in a little red housewife—(looking at the one produced)—she kept it frequently in this—last Friday I went to fetch the deceased's things away, and this housewife rolled out of the bed-clothes—I gave it to the policeman Adams—it fell out of the bed as I was pulling the things off to take them away—we were going to place the body on the sacking of the bedstead, if it had not been wet, but as soon as we saw that, we let it be., and it was placed on two tables—the room door was kept locked, and I kept the key in my own possession—I found the door locked as I had left it when I went on the Friday to remove the things, and everything was as I had left it—the housewife was quite empty, just as I gave it to the policeman—I was at the deceased's place when the prisoner went for the note, and when I afterwards looked at it—after she said that the gentleman had played a trick on her she asked me what she had better do—I said she had better go back to the gentleman she received it from—she

said she would, and she asked me if I would accompany her back—we went from the deceased's to my own lodging—before we got there I asked her to allow me to see the note again—she gave it me with a little hesitation—my wife was with me at that time—I looked at the note again, and returned it to the prisoner—I did not say a word to her then about having any suspicion of it—I was not present when my wife got the note into her possession—I left the prisoner and her together at our street door while I went up to No. 4, in the same street—I was gone I should say five minutes—when I returned, my wife met me on the way, between No. 4 and No. 11, and gave me the note, telling me not to let it go out of my hand till I knew where it came from—when I got to my house the prisoner was against the street door—I then went up stairs and put my regimental coat and side-belt on, and accompanied her across the Park—on our way she said she would not care if I would allow her to go and see Jem—I know the man she kept company with—his name it James Lowden—I told her I would rather she would stop till we came back, as we should not be long going across to Bedford-street—we crossed the Park and went through the Horse Guards—when we got opposite Scotland-yard, on the pavement on the Admiralty side of the way, she fell back on my arms, and said she felt so ill she must put it off till the next day, she must go back and go the next day—I told her if she could not go any further 1 muit call the assistance of a policeman—she said, "O, for God's sake, don't call a policeman; I will try and go a little further"—I had hold of both her hands, and we crossed the road—as we got on the other pavement, against Scotland-yard, she fell back on my arms, and said, "I cannot keep it no longer; I murdered the old woman, and deprived your wife of her mother"—she caught tight hold round me, and asked me to pray for her guilty soul and forgive her—I gave her in charge of the policeman Adams—this is the note that was in the prisoner's possession—(looking at the one produced)—it is the same note that I had seen in my mother-in-law's possession several times—I know it by the grease that is on it—I gave it to Adams in Scotland-yard, when I went to the station-house there.

Cross-examined. Q. What time was it that the prisoner made this statement after falling into your arms? A. I should say it must have been twenty-five minutes past one o'clock—Mrs. Stevens came by at the time the prisoner owned to the murder—her words were, "I have murdered the poor old lady, and deprived your wife of her mother"—I am sure of the words—that is what I recollect—she caught hold round me, and asked me to forgive her, and asked me to pray for her guilty soul—that was all that passed—it was on the Monday night that I noticed the bed was wet—I cannot say positively to the time—it was after the Jury sat—Mrs. Clark went into the room with me, for the purpose of laying the deceased out—after we had been there a good bit, the prisoner came up to give her a glass of rum, before Mrs. Clark commenced laying her out—there was no washing-stand in the room—there was a little brown pan stood with some water in it—I cannot say how near the bed it was—it was on the Wednesday that the prisoner kissed the dead body, and said, "God knows all"—my wife was with me, and the land-lady and her sister—I did not notice anything else said but, "God knows all"—if she said anything more, most likely I may have been engaged in speaking to somebody else—I might have been talking to the landlady—I do not recollect anything else—I took a deal of notice of what she did say—I took a deal of notice of many things she said—I had very strong suspicion.

Q. Was your mother-in-law a good strong hearty woman? A. I never saw anything, or very little amiss with her since I have known her, and that is more than seven years—she was sixty-one years of age—she did nothing

for her living—she was not a tall woman, nor short—a middle-sized woman—she was not very stout, nor yet very thin—middle-way, in good condition, and a very hearty woman for an elderly woman—she was very lissom on the feet—she appeared like most people in good health—she never appeared to have anything amiss with her—she could not have been a Weak woman, because she always enjoyed good health—I should say, to look at her, sha was middle-way for strength—I saw her when she was laid out—I have seen her take a glass or so—I have never seen her §o but what the could walk about—she was very quiet and good-tempered—I never saw her violent—she was not nearly twice the prisoner's size—the prisoner is half the siie again of her—she is a much bigger woman than my mother-in-law was—I had the key of the room in my possession up to last Monday.

Q. Had you ever, before this occurrence, heard that your mother-in-law tried to poison herself? A. I heard once that the had been taking something, and the doctor was obliged to give her something—I have not heard it repeatedly—I heard once that she had been taking something—I cannot say what.

Q. Did not you hear from your own wife that your mother-in-law had tried to poison herself? A. I believe the had attempted onee—to I heard—I do not exactly know whether it was my own wife of no that told me—most likely it might be—I do not know, to be sure.

Q. You have heard from tome one that your mother-in-law took something and tried to poison herself, and do not know who from? A. I did hear as much as that once—I really do not know who I heard it from—mott likely it might be from my wife, but I cannot say—I cannot say who it was told me—it must be near upon three years ago, or more perhaps—I do not know whether I heard it at the time it happened—I do not know whether she had taken it or not—I only go by what I hear—I have seen her hundreds of timet since that—I used to go round to see her almost every day—I believe the time I first heard it must have been a week or more after the attempted it—I cannot say how long it was after—I did not go to tee her directly afterwards—I heard she had done it, but what time or where I cannot say—I cannot say whether it was my wife that told me of it or not—I do not snow whether I was told of it in my wife's presence—it it a long while ago—I cannot recollect—I have always been present when anybody has gone into the deceased's room—I had the key.

ELIZABETH STEVENS . I live in Ritches-court, Lambeth. On Wednesday, the 3rd Dec., I was near the Horse-guards, and saw the prisoner with Edward Gaze, who said, "Will you get me a policeman?"—the prisoner was fainting on his arm—I said I could not; I was in a hurry, and going to Bayswater—the prisoner exclaimed, "I have done it now, I have done it; for God's sake pray for my guilty soul."

Q. Repeat that? A. She exclaimed, "Oh, good God, I have done it now; I have done it. What shall I do? Do pray for my guilty soul"

JOHN ADAMS (policeman). On Wednesday, the 3rd Dec., I was in Sootland-yard—I saw the prisoner brought in there by Gaze—I do not know whether she was conscious of what he said or not—he gave her in charge—he gave me this note, which I gave to inspector Partridge when I got to the station—Gaze was present when Partridge received it—the prisoner was given in charge, and he conveyed her down to the Gardener's-lane station—I walked her down there—on the way there, as we went np Gardener's-lane with her, she caught hold of my hand and said, "Constable, don't expose me, for I have done it."

COURT. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate, there is no de

position of yours returned? A. Yes, I was asked what I had to say, and! explained—it was not taken down—I stated what I have said to-day.

Q. Did you state anything about what she said to you? A. No.

Cross-examined. Q. You never said anything before the Magistrate about what she said to you? A. Yes, I did—I was asked what I knew of the case, and I told the Magistrate.

Q. Do you mean that you represented to the Magistrate that the prisoner had made a confession to you? A. No. I did not, nor anything like It—I was sworn.

Q. Why not state it, if true? A. I was not asked about it—I said the prisoner was given into my charge on suspicion of murdering Gaze's mother-in-law—I said they gave me the note—I was not asked further about it—this was on the 3rd Dec.—that was all I said—I attended another examination on the 8th—I was only sworn on the last occasion.

Q. When was it that you stated to the Magistrate what you did state? A. On the 8th—I said then the prisoner was given into my charge for having murdered the woman, and I produced the note; and that on conveying her to the station, she laid hold of my hand and said she had done it—I said to before the Magistrate.

Q. Did not I ask if you represented that the prisoner had made a confession, and did not you say you did not, not being asked about it? A. I understood you to mean on the 3rd Dec.—I was not sworn on the 3rd Dec.—I did Dot sign any deposition on the 8th—I was sworn on the 8th—they did not take down what I said—I stated what she said—I stated that Gaze gave her in charge, and gave me the note; and as I was taking her down she caught hold of my hand and said, "Don't expose me; I did it, I did it"—she appeared io a fainting state when she was given into my charge—she was brought in by Gaze supporting her on his arm, her head laying against his shoulder—she remained at Scotland-yard about ten minutes I suppose—she came to, so as to be able to walk—there was a female helped her—I do not know who she was—I cannot say whether she was able to walk without assistance—I did not speak to her—I will swear I said nothing to her—a constable named Swanston was with us, and Gaze—he was four or five yards behind when she turned round and used the expression—it was in Gardener's-lane going to the station that she used the expression—I had brought her through the middle of Scotland-yard, Whitehall-place, across Parliament-street, into King-street—we were about 100 yards from the station when she said it—she said, "Policeman, don't expose me, for I did it, I did it," twice over—I am sure of that.

Q. Not, "Constable don't expose me?" A. No, she said "policeman," not "constable."

MARY FITKIN . I live at No. 11, Rochester-street—I was at Mrs. Gaze's lodging on the night the inquest was held on Mrs. Mundell—the prisoner in the course of the night entered my sister's room where I was in bed—I slept with my sister, Mrs. Smith, who is landlady of the house—the prisoner entered the room with Mrs. Gaze, and sat by the bedside, about one o'clock in the night—Mrs. Gaze said she thought there would be another inquest held the next day, as Dr. Atkinson did not seem at all satisfied on account of the state in which Mrs. Mundell was found dead—the prisoner said nothing then—I and my sister got up and dressed ourselves to sit up with Mrs. Gaze, as. she appeared timid—I was left alone with the prisoner—she said she felt uncomfortable about the inquest next day, on account of the state in which the bed was found, and she said she would not care if it was not for the bedshe said it would be a great trial to her, for there

were so many different things came across her mind—I told her she was quite wrong in not opening the door when Mrs. Cheshire knocked—she said she was so excited at the time she could not, the was holding Mrs. Mundell down in a fit, and washing her face—she did not say whether it was with water or not—she made use of the, same words several times during the night, and was very much agitated—between four and five the prisoner gave a very heavy sigh, and said, "Oh, dear, what are we when we are left alone; we are worse than beasts"—on the following Wednesday I saw her in custody of the policeman, and I went with her from Scotland-yard to Gardener's-lane—I led her there myself—as we went along she said, "What will my mother think of me; a murderer; to die on the gallows"—she asked me several times to pray for her guilty soul—she said it was the first robbery she ever committed in her life—she said, "I did deprive that poor soul of a mother"—she said, "What would her Jem think of her; a murderer! to die on the gallows"—she made use of that expression two or three times—I was not examined before the Magistrate—I was present at Queen-square on the Monday—inspector Partridge told me to be there—Mr. Bond was the Magistrate.

Cross-examined. Q. Where do you live? A. No. 11, Rochester-street, in the same house with my sister and Mrs. Gaze—my sister is the landlady—I led the prisoner all the way from Scotland-yard to Gardener's-lane, with the two policemen—I never left her—she had hold of my arm—I heard all she said—she likewise said, "Oh the wretch that I am! oh that the Lord would strike me dead!"—she told me not to expose her—nothing more—there were several things I cannot exactly recollect—the officer Adams was behind me, I believe—he walked behind—she did not like the policeman to lead her, and kept with me all the while—I did not tell Adams what she had said to me on the way—I told inspector Partridge on Saturday last—I might have repeated it to him before, but then I told him, and he took it down in writing—I do not know that I repeated it to him before—I might have done it in conversation—I was at the Magistrate's for the purpose of giving evidence, but I was not called upon—Mr. Partridge knew I was there to give evidence—the prisoner was not able to go by herself without assistance, she was in such a fainting state—she was raving and rambling all the way, and tearing her hair; and when in the police-station she was tearing her hair—when before the Magistrate she was sitting—I cannot say whether she was tearing her hair all the time she was there, but she was before she went in before the Magistrate.

MR. BODKIN. Q. When was it she went before the Magistrate? A. On the Monday after—she was taken into custody on the Wednesday—Mr. Partridge told me to be there on the Monday.

COURT. Q. How came you to be in Scotland-yard? A. Mr. Gaze was going with the prisoner into Bedford-street about the note, and I followed them.

HARRIET SMITH . I am the sister of the last witness, and landlady of the house No. 11, Rochester-street, where Mrs. Gaze lodged. On Monday night, the 1st of Dec, after the inquest, the prisoner came with Mrs. Gaze to my house—the prisoner was with me part of the night, and Mr. Gaze was there part of the night—he said, in the prisoner's hearing, that he was not at all satisfied with the appearance of the bed, it seemed to him as though it had heen turned—the prisoner said, "If the bed has been turned, Mr. Gaze, of course I must have turned it, as nobody was in the room but me"—between four and five o'clock she seemed very much agitated—she gave a very heavy sigh, and said, "Oh dear, what are we when we are left alone? we are worse

than beasts"—on the Wednesday, in the middle of the day she was at my house with Mrs. Gaze, I saw her go out into the yard to the water-closet—she was there about one minute—I saw her come out of the water-closet—I was standing at the back parlour—she slipped very gently along the passage to the street door—(I am positive the prisoner had not got the note when she went into the water-closet, Mrs. Gaze had it then)—she had her bonnet and cloak on—I said, "Where are you going?"—she said, "I am going to the door to see if Mr. Gaze is coming"—she opened the door, and asked me which way he was gone—I pointed to the right—she immediately turned from the step of the door in a very hurried manner to the left, and went four or five yards from the house—I followed and touched her on the shoulder, and told her she had better stop till Mr. Gaze came back—she said she could not, she was in a hurry—I said, "You cannot be in a hurry now, you was not in a hurry before Mr. Gaze went away; come in doors for a little while"—she said, "I cannot, I wont, I am in a hurry," and said, "Tell Mr. Gaze to follow me; I will tell you where I am going, to No. 9, Bedford-street"—I stopped her, and turned her back to the house—in a few minutes Mr. Gaze came up to the door, and they went away together.

Cross-examined. Q. Is it possible you were not examined before the Magistrate? A. I was not—I was in attendance both days—the police knew I was there and could give evidence.

MATTHEW LITTLE . I live at 71, Regent-street, and am in the employ of a baker. I remember being called to the house where the deceased was—the prisoner fetched me—when I went up into the room, I found the deceased laying on the box—there was nobody in the room with her—the prisoner, Mrs. Graham, and two other women were in the house—they were down stairs when I first went—they went up stairs with me—I immediately cut the rope from the deceased's neck—when the prisoner came to fetch me from my master's shop, she came in and asked mistress,"For God's sake send a man, there is a woman hung herself."

Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner request you to cut the cord? A. No, she did not—she did not go into the room with me—she went to the room door with me, and said the woman was inside lying on a box—she did not request me to cut the cord—I cut it without being asked—I noticed it before I cut it—to the best of my belief it was only once round the neek, but I was so flurried at the time I did not take particular notice—I left it there.

WILLIAM CROW . I am beadle to the Coroner oi Westminster—I received this piece of rope from Gaze, and gave it to Partridge.

JANE MATTHEWS . I am the wife of Captain Matthews. The prisoner wai in my service up to the 10th of Nov.—she received 3l. 10s. while in my service, which was not quite five months—she had 8l. a year—she asked me for 1l. very shortly after she came to me, which she had—she then asked for 10s.—I gave her another 10s. when the quarter was up—then she asked for 1l., and when she went away I believe there was 6s. or 7s. owing to her, but I gave her 10s.—I live in Southampton-street, Strand—she left me on account of illness, and was very ill for about a week or two before she left—I never knew of her having saved up any money, nor heard any advice given her where to place her savings—she had a box of the description of the one now produced—I am not able to identify it.

COURT. Q. What was the matter with her? A. She complained of having too much blood in her head.

CAPTAIN WILLIAM MATTHEWS . I never had any conversation with the prisoner about her savings, nor gave her advice where to place them.

MRS. GAZE re-examined. This is the prisoner's box.

FRANCIS PARTRIDGE . I am inspector of the A division of police. I was on duty on Wednesday, the 3rd of Dec, at the station-house, in Gardener's-lane, the prisoner was brought there on this charge—Adams came in with her, also Gaze, and I think a woman—she was in a fainting condition when brought in—Adams told me the charge, in her hearing—I had her purposely brought up to where the charges are taken—Adams said she was brought there on suspicion of murder, and Gaze said it was on suspicion of murdering his mother-in-law—the prisoner made no observation at the time, but when I entered the charge I said, "You ought to know what you are charged with," and read the charge over to her—I said, "You are not bound to make any observation," her reply was, "It is all right, it is all right"—she went back towards the seat where I told her to sit down—she was in a fainting condition, and commenced tearing her hair—she said, "All I can say is, I am an unfortunate creature, you may do with me what you like"—I went to the deceased's room on the Wednesday evening after the examination at Queen-square—the prisoner had been remanded—I went to her lodgings with Gaze, and looked into a box, which is now in court—I found in it some cord, a prayer-book, with the name of M, Browning in it, and two duplicates—I compared the cord with thut produced to-day—it is similar to it in size and appearance—one of the duplicates is for a shawl pawned for 1s. 6d. on the 24th of Nov. 1845, the other for a gown, pawned the 28th of Nov. 1845, for 3s.—one is in the name of Mundell, No. 1, Providence-place, the other in the name of A. Monday, 21, Providence-place—the box was not locked—I was in attendance on the 8th of Dec. when the Magistrate committed the prisoner for trial on this charge—I was aware then that witnesses were in attendance who were not examined—I communicated that to the Magistrate, but he thought there was sufficient in the case; and committed her here.

CHARLES ST. CLARE BEDFORD . I am Coroner of Westminster. On Monday night the 1st of Dec. I held an inquest on the body of the deceased, Eilzabeth Mundell, at the Coach and Horses—the prisoner was the first witness examined—I have the notes of the evidence she gave, signed by herself—it was read over to her before she signed it—no medical man was examined.

MR. CLARKSON. Q. If a medical man had tendered himself, or if he had examined the body, should you have considered it your duty to examine him? A. Not as a matter of course—if he had inspected the body after death, I should seek the opinion of the jury whether it waf necessary or not—these are the original notes of the examination—(read)

"Martha Browning, of No. 1, Providence-place, St. Margaret's, servant, being sworn, says, 'I have known the deceased, Elizabeth Mundell, for six months, and have been lodging with her there three weeks to-morrow; she, was the widow of Thomas Mundell; she has been in very good health, and had a very good flow of spirits since I have known her; I have been constantly with the deceased lately, and was with her all day yesterday; she was apparently well and in good spirits; she complained of a curious pain in the head about four o'clock yesterday afternoon, but she did not appear to be suffering; I dined, had tea and supper with her yesterday; she ate, as usual, with a good appetite, and was cheerful; she had 7s. a week allowed her, and did not want for anything; she went to bed at eleven o'clock last night; I went to bed at the same time; we slept together always; she was quite well then, and was quite sober; we had only a pint of beer between us at supper, about nine o'clock; she appeared to go to sleep soon, but she awoke me about an hour after we had gone to bed; she was turning about, and wat restless; she was very restless; she did not then speak to me; she awoke me again, about four o'clock in the morning, with a sort of plunge in the bed;

it quite shook the room; I asked her what was the matter; she said, "No. thing but a dream;"I thought she was not well, and asked her if I should get her anything; she said no, she did not want anything, but that I had better get up and go for a walk; I said it was too early to walk; she did not reply, but laid still, as though she was asleep; she told me to go for a walk in a very cross sharp manner, and not in her usual manner; I did not think she knew what she said; I watched her afterwards, and she turned several times, but seemed to sleep; she awoke at seven o'clock this morning; she seemed to have a fit; she threw her hands up to her face, and screamed; she screamed, "Murder!" and "what are you doing to me?" I got up and washed her face with water, and asked if I should go for her daughter; she said no, she did not want her daughter; I then went to the woman in the next room, and asked her if I had not better go for her daughter; she said, "By all means;" I asked the woman, if she should hear the deceased, to look to her; this was about a quarter-past seven o'clock; I then went back to deceased's room, and put my bonnet and cloak on; she wai then in bed, lying quite quietly; she asked me where I was going, and said, "Don't go for Ann," meaning her daughter; I told her I was going down stairs; I went to deceased's daughter, in Rochester-row; I came back with the daughter in about a quarter of an hour; when we returned to the deceased's room her daughter went in first, and I was at her heels, and followed her immediately; deceased was then lying on the box, just as she was when the present Jury saw her; she had only her night-clothes on; a cord wai round her neck, tied quite tight to her throat with a hard knot; the ends of the rope were hanging down by her side; there were two ends, and I do not think they had been broken; I tried to undo the knot; her daughter trial also; I ran out of the house, and went to the baker's shop; the baker came and cut the rope—when I left the room the three chairs were on the box; when I returned the chairs were removed, and the box was removed a little way from the table where it used to stand; the room was otherwise is the state in which I left it; a medical man was sent for, and came in about an hour; I believe several were called upon; I was present when he came; he said she was quite gone, and everything was to be left; she was on good terms with her daughter."

CHARLES DAVENPORT . I live at Nos. 4 and 5, Bedford-street, Strand—there is no number 9 in the street—no number beyond 5, which is my dwelling—the numbers go from No. 5, and 6 to 10, but no No. 9—there is a silk-warehouse next to No. 5—it is never called No, 9—it forms No. 1, Chandoi-street.

JOHN CHARLES ATKINSON . I am a surgeon. I was acquainted with the deceased Mrs. Mundell for more than two years during the life-time of her husband—I saw her last alive about a month previous to her death—she never herself had any illness while I knew her—she always appeared cheerful, and in good spirits—during my long attendance on her husband, she appeared uniform in her spirits at all times—her husband has been dead two years, but our acquaintance was for two years, while I was constantly seeing her husband, and since that I have known her nearly four years, but not to much since her husband's death—I was not consulted about anything she had taken at any time—on Monday, the 1st of Dec, I was sent for to her room—she must have been dead some time when I got there—her face was pale, swollen, and livid, her eyes wide open, and staring, blood issuing from her ears and nose, and frothy matter, mixed with blood, coming from the mouth—there was no cord round her neck then—it was on the ground—my attention was directed to the neck, believing she had died from hanging or stran

gulation—I noticed two deep circular lines passing round from the front towards the back, marked with discolouration, and only one line at the back of the neck—she died from strangulation, in my judgment—the appearances round the neck corresponded with the mark which would be made by the rope produced, tightly pressed round—it appeared very improbable from the marks on the neck that she could have effected her destruction herself—I believe there would have been a greater regularity as regards these lines, if the death had resulted from hanging, or by other means, with the exception of forcible means being employed behind—I could better explain it by the cord itself—it appeared from the marks to have been applied twice round the neck, and that the pressure had been made in this manner, (describing it) as the back of the neck had no mark except the one made by this part of the rope, and there were two distinct lines in front—strangulation was caused by the pressure, and pulling it from behind, and towards the right side, supposing the party destroyed to be laying on the left side—the force or pressure must have been greater applied towards the right side in a direct line almost with the back line—I have not heard that the rope was found tied in a knot, on one side, till just at this moment—that might have altered its position in part, in the removal—the body was placed on the box—the whole trunk when I saw it appeared as if it had been so placed after life had left the body—the rope must have been tied round the neck during life-time, from the marks and discolourations following from the pulling—I did not perceive any mark, as if made by a knot—if the knot was pulled back, it would be loose from the neck—there was no mark of the knot on the neck—the rope would be loose after it was let go—I examined her hands—there was nothing amounting to the marks I expected to see, as the consequence of the force used to make the marks on the neck.

COURT. Q. Supposing she tied the—cord to something behind her, and then threw herself forward, would not that produce all the appearances? A. It is possible—there would be the same pressure behind, but the cord was so short.

MR. BODKIN. Q. In such a case would you expect to find the body in that position? A. No—it was found on the box, flat on the back—almost directly over the box, about four feet above the box there were five or six pegs—I tested those pegs with my fore-finger to see if they would bear the body, and I found that I could easily bring them down if I continued very little pressure—they would not bear the body—neither of them appeared to have been disturbed—my attention has not been directed to the bed—neither then or since—I did not perceive anything at the back of the neck beyond the mark—there were no bruises about her person at all, with the exception of that I have already explained—there was no bruise on the head as if a fall had taken place—there was no mark on the back of the head or neck, besides the mark round the neck—there was no mark about the body at all, except round the neck—after death there was a discoloration abont the arm-pits, which is common after violent death.

Q. Supposing the bed to have been found in a wet state, would you draw any inference from that circumstance? A. I am not certain—it is an ordinary thing for the urine to be voided under strangulation or hanging, but of course, as I do not know the precise nature of the fluid, it is impossible for me to say; it is an ordinary circumstance for urine to be voided where death is caused by strangulation.

GUILTY . Aged 23.— DEATH .