Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 8.0, 05 October 2022), October 1892, trial of THOMAS NEILL (38) (t18921017-962).

THOMAS NEILL, Killing > murder, 17th October 1892.

962. THOMAS NEILL (38) , Indicted for, and charged on the Coroners Inquisition with, the wilful murder of Matilda Clover . The ATTORNEY-GENERAL ( SIR CHARLES RUSSELL , Q.C.), the HON. BERNARD COLERIDGE, MESSRS. SUTTON and C.F. GILL Prosecuted; MESSRS. GEOGHEGAN, WARBURTON, LUXMORE DREW, and SCRATTON Defended.

EDWARD LEVI . I am a licensed victualler, living at the Sir Walter Raleigh, New Street, Gravel Lane, Houndsditch—in 1880 and 1881 I was in Chicago, America, and I knew the prisoner very well; he was a practising physician there at that time—I knew him by the name of Thomas Neill Cream.

MARY BURDEN . I was bookkeeper at Anderton's Hotel, Fleet Street in October, 1891—this is the hotel register—I find that on 5th

October a Dr. Neill came to the hotel, and he is marked off on the 7th as leaving.

JAMES AITCHISON . I am an optician, at 47, Fleet Street—on 9th October, 1891, the prisoner came to me, and I examined his eyes—he said he came from America—I found his left eye very much more defective than his right; it turned inwards towards the nose, giving him a decided squint—he ordered two pairs of spectacles, which were supplied to him on 17th October—I saw him again in April this year.

ELIZABETH MASTERS . In October, 1891, I was living at Orient Buildings, which face into the Hercules Road—turning out of Orient Buildings, and to the left, you come to the Lambeth Road—I had three rooms on the second floor—in the next rooms to me lived Elizabeth May—early in that month I met the prisoner at Ludgate Circus—he asked me to have a glass of wine; we went to the King Lud—from there he accompanied me to Orient Buildings—it was on a Tuesday, I think; it was a very wet night—from Orient Buildings we went to Gatti's Music-hall—I there met Elizabeth May; I had promised to meet her before I went—I introduced her to the prisoner—the prisoner had on a dark macintosh and a square-topped felt hat—he told me at the music-hall he came from abroad to claim some property—I cannot recollect if he said what he was—he said in his younger days he was a student at St. Thomas's Hospital—he showed me a photograph of his mother, and one of himself—he said he was staying at a hotel in Fleet Street—he took off his hat—I think he had glasses on at the time; I noticed a peculiar look in his eyes, and that he had a squint—he, May, and I went from the music-hall together to Ludgate Circus—before we left the music-hall I gave him my address, and I expected to see him again, because he told me he would write again when he got settled in different apartments—when he left me he said he was going back to his hotel—that happened on the Tuesday—on the following Friday I received a letter, which I destroyed about three months afterwards—in the letter he told me he was going to call that day between three and five, and that I was not to be so cross as I was on the Tuesday night—I knew it was from him, because I did not expect a letter from anyone else, and because he told me it was from the gentleman I went to the music-hall with—the letter said I was not to destroy it, but to keep it till he called, as he should expect to see it again that afternoon—I told May I expected him. and showed her the letter—when the time came, between three and five, I and May were sitting at the window, looking out into the street for this gentleman to come, and on the same side of the street as our house I saw Matilda Clover come, carrying a basket, and wearing a white apron with shoulder-straps, and a hat—she was going towards the Lambeth Road—I did not know her to speak to, but I had noticed her pass the house three or four times, and knew her by appearance—I did not know her name—No. 27, Lambeth Road is tenor thirty yards from us, I should think, round the corner—this is a photograph of the woman I saw that day; I have no doubt about it—I noticed the prisoner following her, and I saw her turn round and smile at him—I put on my hat and asked May to do the same, and we followed to the corner to see where he went—I stood at the corner and saw Clover stand at the door of No. 27, where she lived, with the bundle in her hand, looking towards the prisoner who

followed her, came up to the door, followed Clover into the house, and then the door was shut—I waited there quite half an hour; he did not come out—I then went away, and did not see him again till I saw him at the Police-court; May told me she saw him again—on the occasion I saw him following Clover he had on a silk hat and dark clothes—I remember hearing afterwards that Clover had died from delirium tremens—I think the prisoner put his glasses on in the music-hall.

Cross-examined. I did not see the prisoner from October, 1891, till 17th June, 1892, eight months—Inspector Tunbridge asked me to go to the Bow Street Police-station to identify a man—he said he heard I had been to the music-hall with a man who I had seen go with the woman Clover—when I went to Bow Street I expected to find at the court the man I had seen going by—I saw a number of men in the corridor or passage—I was called in by someone to look at them after I had been about ten minutes at the station—all the persons had their hats on—I walked up and down once or twice, and had a good look at them, and I failed to identify anyone—I could not tell you now many men there were—I could not say if there was a police constable among or close to them—I don't know if a gaoler was there; I don't know who was there—I do not know that spoke to Tunbridge—I left the room, and then I believe May was called in, after me—I was then in another room—when she came out Tunbridge called me in again—I don't know who was there, or whether they were the same number, or whether they were the same persons—their hats were off—I was called to identify the man I had seen passing the house with a silk hat on—I identified the prisoner with his hat off as the man I had seen at Gatti's Music-hall—going from Orient Buildings there is a public-house on the right-hand side, where the Hercules Road comes into the Lambeth Road—I stood in my doorway and watched, not at a public-house door—I could not see 27, Lambeth Road from my door; I followed to the corner of Hercules Road, and then stood at the corner; 27, Lambeth Road was on the opposite side of the road, some way down—27, Lambeth Road is the same side as the Masons' Arms—when I saw the man following the girl in Hercules Road they were both on the same side of the road as our buildings—our window is on the second floor; it was shut—all I got was a glimpse of them as they went by, and then I went to the top of the steps and watched them—May was told to go to the police-station at the same time that I was, and we rode there together—we both knew we were going there to identify the man—we mentioned the matter as we went there; I did not ask her what the man was like—she seemed to know better than I, really; I think she knew better than I did—at the music-hall she was sitting there, and I asked her and Neill to come and have a drink—during the greater part of the performance I aid the prisoner were sitting apart from May—the prisoner was my friend, and had nothing to do with May.

Re-examined. I noticed that the postmark on the letter I got was Lambeth—when I went in to the identification there were a number of persons with hats on—I walked up and down, and did not recognise the prisoner—on the second occasion I went in the persons' hats were off, and I then had no difficulty in recognising the prisoner—I and May followed Clover and the prisoner to the corner, where we stood till they went into the house and the door was closed; after that I walked up to the door into which they had gone, and saw the number, 27, on it.

ELIZABETH MAY . In October last year I was living in the same building as and in the next room to Masters in the Orient Buildings—I recollect one night at the end of September, or in October, being at Gatti's Music-hall—I saw Masters there in the prisoner's company—I spoke to them at the bar—afterwards we all three went together ins cab to Ludgate Hill, and had a drink at the King Lud—the prisoner was wearing a hard felt hat with a square top—a few days afterwards Masters told me something about a letter, which she showed me, and which I read—I knew she was expecting a letter, because I heard the prisoner say he would write in a day or two—I don't remember what was in the letter, except that it was signed with two initials—it said he would call on Friday afternoon—on the evening of the day the letter came Masters and I were at the window watching for the gentleman to call, when we saw Clover pass, wearing a white apron with straps, and carrying a basket in her hand—I did not know her name, but she passed the house daily, and I recognised her as a person I had seen before—this is a photograph of the girl I saw pass—the prisoner was folio wing her, I have no doubt of that—the girl turned round and smiled—Masters and I put on our hats and followed them to the corner of Hercules Road and the Lambeth Road—Clover was still going down Lambeth Road, and the man still following her—she stopped at the door, the prisoner went up to it; they both went in—I accompanied Masters up to see what the number was; it was No. 27—I knew Clover lived at 27 by seeing her go into that house before—I and Masters waited there for over half an hour—no one came out, and we came home——on the second occasion that I saw the prisoner he had on a silk hat and dark suit—as far as I remember he had no beard, but only a moustache—I cannot remember whether I saw the prisoner once or twice after that before I saw him at Bow Street, but I saw him passing my house, going towards Lambeth Road—I may have seen him twice after Gatti's—I am positive I saw him passing towards the Lambeth Road—on that third occasion he had a silk hat on—I went with Masters to see whether I could identify the prisoner at Bow Street—I was shown a number of persons wearing their hats; I recognised the prisoner with his hat on—I do not know that I saw him afterwards there with his hat off—soon after the occasion on which I and Masters followed Clover and the prisoner I heard Clover was dead.

Cross-examined by MR. GEOGHEGAN. I had a drink with Masters and the prisoner at the bar, and then they went away again to look at the performance, and left me—he was with Masters, not with me—I was with them again before the performance was over; we had another drink, and then I left the hall with them, and we took a cab—I saw the prisoner at the Coroner's Court, sitting in a part of the Court between two warders; I was not brought there to identify him—I heard him speak; I could not remember his voice again; it did not recall him to me—when I saw the prisoner and Clover he was on the same side of the way as the window in Orient Buildings which I and Masters looked from—we were both at the window and had the same opportunity of seeing—I picked out the prisoner at Bow Street from 16 to 20 persons, I think—I was waiting for ten minutes before I was brought into the room where the persons were—when I saw the prisoner there he had a few days' growth of beard

—I knew I was looking at a man who had not been able to go to the barber's or shave himself—it was not sufficient to hide him from me—as far as I can remember there were no other unshaven or unshorn people among them—I cannot say if all the rest looked respectable—I did not notice if they all had top hats—I did not see some of them whispering and chattering—I did not see a gaoler there; I cannot recollect if there was a policeman—Tunbridge asked me to pick out the man who had been in Gatti's Music-hall, and I went in and picked out Neill; that is all that took place—I did not know Ellen Donworth—I read or heard about her falling down dead—I did not take any note of whether it caused a sensation.

Re-examined. I had an opportunity of seeing the prisoner at the music-hall, at the King Lud, and passing our house—I saw he had cross eyes, a squint.

By the COURT. I first met him at Gatti's and had a drink with him, and then he and Masters went to look at the performance—we had another drink with him before we left Gatti's—I, he and Masters went from Gatti's in a Hansom cab back to Ludgate Hill—at Bow Street Tunbridge asked me to step inside and see if I could recognise the man I saw at Gatti's—that was all he said—after that I went and looked at the men, and recognised the prisoner—that is all that took place.

WILLIAM HENRY BROADBENT , M.D. I practised at 34, Seymour Street, Portman Square, on 30th November, 1891, when I received this letter by post—the letter is dated 28th November; the postmark on the envelope is "30th November, London, W."—on the postage stamp is the mark "S.E."

Cross-examined. I gave this letter to the police immediately I received it on 30th November. (The letter teas read in the opening speech. It was as follows:—"London, November 26th, 1891.—Dr. W. H. Broadbent.—Sir,—Miss Clover, who until a short time ago lived at 27, Lambeth Road, S.E., died at the above address on the 20th October (last month) through being poisoned by strychnine. After her death a search of her effects was made, and evidence was found which showed that you not only gave her the medicine which caused her death, but that you had been hired for the purpose of poisoning her. This evidence is in the hands of one of our detectives, who will give the evidence either to you or to the police authorities for the sum of £2,500 (two thousand five hundred pounds) sterling. You can have the evidence for £2,500, and in that way save yourself from ruin. If the matter is disposed of to the police it will of course be made public by being placed in the papers, and ruin you for ever. You know well enough that an accusation of that sort will ruin you for ever. Now, sir, if you want the evidence for £2,500 just put a personal in the Daily Chronicle, saying that you will pay Malone £2,500 for his services, and I will send a party to settle this matter. If you do not want the evidence, of course it will be turned over to the police at once and published, and your ruin will surely follow. Think well before you decide on this matter. It is just this—£2,500 sterling on the one hand, and ruin, shame, and disgrace on the other. Answer by personal on the first page of the Daily Chronicle any time next week. I am not humbugging you. I have evidence strong enough to ruin you for ever.—M. MALONE.")

Tuesday, October 18th.

WILLIAM NIXON REECE (Police Inspector L). I prepared this plan of

the district, it is correct—I have made twelve copies of it—it is to the scale of four and a quarter inches to 300 yards from measurement; it is a compass of about two miles, or one square mile.

Croat-examined. I see on the plan the main entrance to Waterloo Station—opposite to it are the Wellington and the Lord Hill public-houses—going down Waterloo Road on the left-hand side you come to Morpeth Place, and at the corner of the Waterloo Road and Morpeth I'lace is the Artisans' Dining-room and Coffee-house—I am stationed at Walworth, and the district was strange to me till I went to make the plan—it is about a minute's walk from the Lord Hill public-house to Morpeth Place—I do not know if Ellen Donworth came from the Lord Hill and fell down dead—from where the New Cut intersects the Waterloo Road, near the centre of the plan, it would take fully a quarter of an hour to walk to the Lord Hill, 118, Stamford Street, and the Masons' Arms—I could do it in a quarter of an hour easily.

JOHN GEORGE KIRKBY . I am assistant to Mr. Priest, a chemist, of 22, Parliament Street—at the beginning of October, 1891, and before 12th October, the prisoner came into that shop—he said he was a medical student, at St. Thomas's, and gave his name as Thomas Neill—he told me he was attending a course of lectures at St. Thomas's Hospital—he asked me for some nux vomica, and that being a schedule poison, I asked him for his name and address, and gave him a piece of paper, and he wrote this order: "One ounce, 10 to 20 drops diluted with water," and "sulphate of quinine," and signed it "Thomas Neill, M. D., 103, Lambeth Palace Road"—I supplied him with the nux vomica—a day or two afterwards the prisoner asked for some empty gelatine capsules—I told him we did not keep them in stock—he asked us to get them for him—on the same day Mr. Priest gave me this order, dated 12th October, to go to Maw, Son, and Thompson, wholesale chemists, to get a box of capsules—I got a box of 100 12-grain capsules there that same day—the next day Neill came to the shop, and I showed him the capsules—he looked at them and said they were too large, he wanted some about half the size—I afterwards went again to Maw, Son, and Thompson and changed the capsules, and got a box of No. 5 capsules, which were a little less than half the size—the prisoner did not say what he wanted the capsules for—they are used for putting powders and solids into, in order as far as possible to render the medicine tasteless—a day or two afterwards the prisoner came and I gave him the capsules in a box similar to this—this is a capsule similar to those I gave him—after that the prisoner came to Priest's shop on different occasions up to the following January—I supplied him from time to time with nux vomica in quantities of from one to four ounces—the last time I supplied him with it was on 20th December, I see by the order; upon each occasion I took from him a written order; this one and the first one I had from him are the only orders I have been able to find—we do not register them; it is not necessary; it comes under the second schedule, and so long as it is labelled poison, with the name and address of the seller, it is quite sufficient.

Cross-examined. Before 20th October I had never sold to Neill more than one ounce of nux vomica—the nux vomica I sold him was the British Pharmacopoeia strength, half grain of strychnine to one ounce of nux vomica—nux vomica contains brucine—the capsules are American—they

are not used for taking castor oil or sandal wood oil—sandal wood oil is sold in flexible capsules—all you want in a capsule is that it shall melt—if oil were put into one of these it would not be tasteless—all these are used for are for pills, powders, and solids—they are not commonly used by medical men in London—we have different kinds of capsules prescribed—sometimes we prescribe these—English people prefer English capsules and foreigners prefer foreign ones—I asked the prisoner whether he was a medical man—I looked through the register—I did not find his name there—I am not in the habit of selling poisons to persons whose names I cannot find in the register—on 20th December, when the prisoner gave me his last order, I sold him four, ounces—he dealt with me for other matters besides nux vomica and the capsules—he used to buy an ounce, I think, of opium, not always once a week, but once a fortnight—we are bound to register the sale of opium and laudanum—there is an entry in our books of the sale to the prisoner—I have not the books here—there is only one entry of a prescription with opium in it—there should not appear in our books the times and amount of the nux vomica we sold to the prisoner—for a sale across the counter we should not book it—the sale of opium or laudanum appears because it was a prescription, and I copied it in.

By the COURT. I wrote this date "20th" at the time of the purchase; as a rule I always date the orders—it was an omission on my part not to have dated this other one—a registered medical man has more facility of purchasing poison than a man who is not registered—if a stranger came and represented he was a medical man, and I found he was not in the register, I should not supply him with poison if it was in the first schedule—a person might die from poison in the second schedule, but I should see whether the man could write a Latin prescription—if his name was not in the register he might be a medical student—I did not register in our books every purchase he made—I registered the opium because it was a prescription, and there were other ingredients—I did not register the prescription with nux vomica in it because no sulphate of quinine was mixed with it, it was an independent item, and I should not have registered the other but that he had it two or three times, and to save trouble of looking it up I took a copy in the book—it was not necessary to register it—I should not register it in the hook ordinarily if it was for a medical man—I have no reason to give why I did not register it when I found he was not on the register—I could not say whether my practice is followed by other chemists.

LUCY ROSE . I live now at 19, Merrow Street, Walworth Road—in October, 1891, I was living as servant to Mrs. Phillips (who is also known as Mrs. Vowles) at 27, Lambeth Road—I was there five weeks in all; I left a fortnight after Matilda Clover died—she was living there when I went into the service, occupying two rooms on the top floor—she was 27, and had a little boy about 2 years old—this is a photograph of her—there was no other young woman living in the house besides Clover then—the household consisted of Mrs. Phillips, myself, Matilda Clover, her child, Mr. Vowles and Mrs. Phillips's grandson, who was a child of about nine, I think—Matilda Clover was not allowed the use of a latch-key; she would let herself out and be let in by me or someone else in the house—I recollect the morning on which she died—the previous day I went into her room and there found an open letter of

hers on the table with the envelope—I could see it had come through the post—I did not notice the postmark—I read the letter—I was in the house from the time I read the letter on the morning of the day before the death until after the death—after the death I looked for the letter carefully and could not find it. (THE ATT ORNEY-GENERAL proposed to ask the witness as to the contents of the letter. MR. GEOGHEGAN objected that the suggestion of the prosecution was that the letter told the woman to return the letter and envelope to the writer, and that the writer was the prisoner, and that no notice to produce had been served. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS considered that there was no proof of similarity of handwriting or any other evidence to connect the prisoner with the letter. THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL did not press the evidence)—between seven and ten on the evening before Clover died I let her in; I do not know what time she had gone out—when I let her in a gentleman was with her—there was the light of a small paraffin lamp in the hall—the gentleman was tall and broad, and had a heavy moustache—he had no hair or whiskers on his chin or face except the moustache—I should say he was about forty—he was wearing a large coat with a cape, and a high silk hat—I had never seen him before—I do not recognise the prisoner—soon after they came in she went out for some beer, leaving the man in her rooms, and she returned—after that the man went out; Clover did not go out, she bade the man goodnight at the door—I heard her say, "Good-night, dear," as she let him out—I did not see him then—later I know she went out herself, because she asked me if I would listen to her baby—that was about an hour, I should think, after the man left—I went to bed about ten, and she had gone out at that time—after going to bed I went to sleep—I was awoke about three o'clock by Clover's screams—I sleep in the back room underneath where Clover slept—I called the landlady and went into Clover's room, and found her lying across the foot of the bed with her head fixed between the bedstead and the wall—she told me sue had been poisoned by pills—she was apparently in great agony—during her agony she screamed as if in great pain—there were moments when she appeared to have relief, and then the fit came on again—when the fits were upon her she was all of a twitch—she said once she thought she was going to die, and she said she would like to see her baby then because she thought she was going to die. (THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL submitted that he had laid the foundation for asking what statement the deceased nod made as to how she had been poisoned. MR. GEOGHEGAN contended that the mere fact that a person said, when in great pain, that she thought she was going to die, did not imply that settled sure feeling that there was no possible chance of recovery such as could render a dying declaration admissible. MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS was of opinion that before a dying declaration could be admitted it must be proved that at the moment the person made the statement she was in such a condition that her immediate death was probable; she must be labouring under a mortal disorder, which mortal disorder she believed would be the immediate cause of death)—When the fit or agony was on her, her eyes rolled about terribly—I remained with her in and out of the room the whole of the time until her death—these intermittent fits continued all the time up to her death, she died at a quarter to nine the same morning—in her moments of relief she was quite calm and collected; it was in one of those moments of relief that she made the statement about

dying and her desire to see the child—her words were, "I think I am going to die, and I should like to see my baby"—the landlady sent for medical help, and Mr. Coppin, assistant to Mr. McCarthy, came, I think about seven, he only stayed a few minutes—Clover had been drinking the previous night, I noticed it—Mr. Coppin sent some medicine; the first drop I gave her she turned all black—we sent Mrs. Phillips' grandson for it—Mrs. Phillips went again for Mr. Coppin, but he did not come—Clover was getting worse—during that early morning she vomited a good deal—Dr. Graham came for the first time in the middle of the day—he gave the certificate of death—he had not seen her that morning, not until she was dead—she was buried at Tooting, on 27th October, by the parish; I think Mr. Measures was the undertaker—I do not think any information of her death was given to the police—I do not remember the date when the police first came to me to make inquiry about Matilda Clover, I think it was about seven months after her death—I attended the inquest, it began on 22nd June, and the verdict was given on 13th July—until the inquest I had heard nothing about strychnine in connection with Matilda Clover—she sometimes went out to market for herself, with a basket—she then generally wore a grey dress and a large apron with shoulder-straps to it.

Cross-examined. When I left Mrs. Phillips I went to live at another house in Lambeth Road, about three minutes' walk from there, and I stayed there seven or eight weeks—Clover was in the habit of bringing men to 27—it is four doors from the Masons' Arms—I believe the first eight houses after the Masons' Arms took in lodgers; there were no lodgers at Mrs. Phillips but Clover when I first went there, she was there all the time I was—when other lodgers were there they brought in men—I was examined once before Mr. Hicks the Coroner, then before Sir John Bridge, at Bow Street, and then recalled—I gave evidence in Court three times—before I gave evidence in Court a gentlemen called on me and asked what I knew about the matter, and took it all down in writing, he only called once—I made a statement to Inspector Harvey and another gentleman—the man I saw had a coat with a cape on it—while Clover was in great agony a cup of tea was given to her, and she drank it—just before her death she was wearing a brand-new pair of boots—they had been purchased at Lilley's, in Westminster Bridge Road—they were pawned after her death; I remained with her till she died—I saw her die—besides the tea and medicine, she had some soda and milk, it did not stay on her stomach; she drank some of it—she had no difficulty in swallowing—I did not see her corpse taken away, I was not in the house, I was with Mrs. Phillips' daughter—a person from Lambeth Walk laid her out, I don't know her name, I should know her again if I saw her—I saw the letter on the table, and read it from beginning to end—she told me that she had bought the boots at Lilley's—she did not say a gentleman had bought them, she said the gentleman was with her at the time; I did not see her buy them—I saw her the day she bought them, in the morning, and again in the evening; she bought them in the evening when she was out—she was drunk when she came home—she said the gentleman had given her the money to buy them—the gentleman left earlier than ten o'clock—she came back about half-past ten; Mrs. Phillips said it was about that; I heard Mrs. Phillips give evidence before the Coroner—Clover always had to knock at the

door when she came in, no matter what time she came home; I did not wait up to let her in, Mrs. Phillips did—I did not see the men she brought home.

Re-examined. When she went out to a neighbouring shop she sometimes left the door ajar, I used to leave it open when I went out—Clover was the only woman lodging in the house in October—there was no one else there when she died—there had been about a week before, I think—there was no man in the house that I saw on the 20th October except the man I have described—I was in the house all the day, and all the evening and night—I think Sergeant Ward first spoke to me about Clover's death—inspector Harvey saw me after that—my first statement was made to Inspector Harvey and another gentleman—C lover complained of her throat; she said she seemed as if she had something sticking in her throat, and if she could get it up she thought she should be better—I think she vomited after taking all the things.

EMMA VOWLES . In October last I was living at 27, Lambeth Road; at that time I had a lodger named Matilda Clover—she occupied some upper rooms with her child—at three o'clock in the morning of 21st October I was called by Lucy Rose, and I went and saw Clover lying across the foot of the bed—I saw her vomit—I did not stay with her long, I went to fetch Dr. Graham; he did not come, Mr. Coppin came—I was not present when Clover actually died—I gave information to Dr. Graham with regard to her death; and it was in consequence of what I told him that he gave his certificate—I had seen her about an hour before her death—I next heard about her when Inspector Harvey came, five or six months ago—up to that time no suspicion had arisen in my mind as to her death by strychnine, I had heard no suggestion of the kind from anyone—I remember the inquest in June, I think that was the first time I heard anything about her death by strychnine.

Cross-examined. I am still living at 27, Lambeth Road, and still taking in lodgers—I have lived there about two years and nine months; during that time I have taken in lodgers, not mostly women; I don't take many women in—this was the first death that occurred in my house—my neighbours on both sides take in lodgers—I did not know that Clover had friends who used to visit her before Rose came—I never saw any persons that used to visit her—I know she had a friend named Fred visiting her—he was constantly in the habit of coming to see her—she did not stay out late then, only for the last four months—I gave her a key to let herself in with—I went to bed at all hours, because I used to sit up for my husband; he is a cabman, he drives a day cab; he is seldom in before twelve, sometimes two—I give all my lodgers keys—one was a cabman and his wife and little child, and there was another woman; I never knew her bring men in—I don't think Clover did either—as far as I remember I never saw the prisoner before the inquest; he was then between two warders—the man Fred was in the habit of coming to see Clover—they had a quarrel, and I heard Fred say he would never put foot inside the house again; he was a slight fair man and wore a light suit—she was cut up by the quarrel with Fred—she was very anxious to make it up with him if she could meet him—I saw her body after death—her rooms were not let again for months after her death—my rooms used not to be long empty, but since her death I have not let so well—I don't remember how long it was

after her death before a lodger came, it was a long time—the neighbour in the next house on my left is named Payne—I only knew her to say "Good morning"; the person on the right I did not know to speak to.

Re-examined. The father of Clover's child (Fred) is a very slight fair young man, with large blue eyes, and I should take him to be 32 or 34—he is not at all like the prisoner—the quarrel took place about four weeks before her death—I don't think she had seen him since the quarrel up to the time of her death—she used to speak to me about him very much—I did not let her in on the Monday that she died; she had her latch-key—she was in the passage when I got upstairs—I was going up to bed with a light in my hand—my husband had not come in; I was going to my room to wait up for him—I went up after Clover—I had no means of knowing what time she went to bed—the child slept with her, in the same bed.

By the COURT. I saw no man at all in my house that night—I was not long in Clover's presence before she died, only the short times between, I don't suppose more than one-half hour altogether—I had not been in her room for an hour before her death—I had been out twice for the doctor—I registered her death—I said when I registered it that I was present at her death; that was for want of thought—I registered it the same night she died—she spoke reasonably to me when I saw her—she was very sick when I was in the room—I did not notice any trembling or spasm—Dr. Graham did not ask me what the symptoms were before her death; I told him the was as I saw her, all in a mass of perspiration, trembling, and very sick.

FRANCIS COPPIN . I live at 138, Westminster Bridge Road—I am assistant to Dr. McCarthy—on the morning of the 21st October, about seven o'clock, I was called in to 27, Lambeth Road—I saw Lucy Rose there—as far as I recollect Mrs. Phillips took me up to see Matilda Clover—she was lying on a bed—she was not in a fit at the time I saw her first—she had a quick pulse, and was bathed in perspiration, and trembling—I was with her about ten or twelve minutes—she had a convulsion while I was there—there was a twitching of the body—I gave her some medicine to stop the vomiting—she had vomited previous to my being there; I saw it there—I concluded that she was suffering from epileptic fits, convulsions, due to alcoholic poisoning—I had been told by Mrs. Phillips that she had been in the habit of drinking—that helped me to form an opinion as to what she was suffering from—I was examined at the inquest on Matilda Clover—I had heard before that that a girl had taken two pills—I did not hear of strychnine until three detectives came to me; that was before, the inquest, I should think about the end of April or the beginning of May.

Cross-examined. The word poison was not mentioned to me in connection with this woman's death—I have had 14 years' experience in this part of London, and a good deal of experience of drink in its various forms—I had no doubt that this woman was suffering from excessive drink—I am acquainted with the symptoms of strychnine poisoning—nothing in her appearance suggested that to me—I should put the symptoms described down to delirium tremens, from convulsions; that sometimes occurs—there was nothing to point out to me that she died from anything but delirium tremens—I prescribed carbonate of soda.

Re-examined. I am not a qualified practitioner—I have never had a case of strychnine poisoning—I can say from my reading that intermittent convulsions and twitching of the body are indications of poisoning by strychnine—they are tetanic convulsions—I was told by Mrs. Phillips that she had been drinking—I was prepared to accept the idea of drink—I asked the girl what she had been drinking and how she was; I examined her—that was all I asked her—I was with her about ten or twelve minutes, during that time there was one convulsive fit—I saw Dr. Graham before he gave his certificate—I told him I thought it was drink.

By the COURT. When I saw her at seven in the morning I thought she would die, but not so soon—I thought she was in a dying condition—about an hour after I saw her. soon after eight, before she died, Mrs. Phillips came round to ask me to go again immediately—I sent a messenger to Dr. Graham to tell him to go, as he had been attending her for twelve days previously—I inquired of Mrs. Phillips when the vomiting, twitching, and so on commenced, and I heard it was about three, I think—I did not go myself.

ROBERT GRAHAM . I am a registered medical practitioner I knew Matilda Clover—she had been to consult me on several occasions; the first being about twelve days before her death—during the twelve days I had seen her eight or nine times, about eight—I had been prescribing for alcoholism, bromide of potassium, and sedative medicines, as for a woman who had been taking drink—on each of the eight or nine occasions she came to my place; the last time was on the 19th October—I do not keep entries of club patients in my book; she was in a club—I fix the 19th merely from memory; it was not earlier, I know it was on Monday, 19th—that was the last occasion I saw her alive, and it was at my own place—on the morning of 21st Mrs. Phillips came to me twice—the first time I was out at a case, it was at half-past four—she came again at half-past six; I was engaged at a labour, and was just going out to it for the second time, and could not go, so that I did not see Clover at her house till I saw her dead—I sent Mrs. Phillips to Dr. McCarthy as I could not go myself; I said, "You had better call in another medical man as I cannot come," and I suggested Dr. McCarthy, in the Westminster Bridge Road—after the death I saw Mrs. Phillips and Mr. Coppin—I already knew Clover had been in the habit of drinking; that was what I had treated her for—from both Mrs. Phillips and Mr. Coppin I got the information which I put in this certificate which I gave—I am not aware I was guilty of a very grave dereliction of duty in giving it.

By the COURT. I knew I was bound to put what was true—I said, "I certify that I attended Matilda Clover during her last illness"—I had not seen her on her death-bed—"such person's age was stated to be twenty-seven years; that I last saw her on 21st October, 1891"—I only saw her when she was dead, and I made an examination of her body—"to the best of my knowledge and belief the cause of her death was, primarily, delirium tremens, secondly, syncope"—that means delirium tremens resulting in or causing syncope, which means failing of the heart's action.

Cross-examined. When Clover came to consult me she had all the symptoms of a person who had been drinking to excess—I gave her sedatives,

bromide of potassium—if a person has undergone a course of sedatives and then drinks brandy, it would have a marked effect on her—brandy does not go with bromide of potassium in the case of a person in a weak state of health; the two things acting on one another in the body of a person in a weak state of health would produce a kind of fit if the person took an excessive amount of spirit—if a person took fifteen grains of bromide of potassium, and then took brandy on the top of it, it would have a very marked effect on him—on one occasion when I attended this woman in my surgery she was taken quite faint—she was not a strong woman by any means; and her mode of life was not conducive to her health.

Re-examined. I stated at the inquest that on one occasion at my surgery she felt faint; I gave her a glass of water, which restored her, she seemed refreshed—bromide of potassium is a nerve sedative; I should say it was a thing commonly prescribed in cases of drink—I have made no statement to the solicitor for the defence.

By the COURT. I don't know that I can explain what the "marked effect" would be; I mean that with a person who drank excessively of spirit the bromide would not have the effect of subduing the convulsion altogether, if there was a convulsion—I do not say it would have the effect of producing a convulsion—I was not told by Mrs. Phillips that this last illness commenced with screaming, great agony, twitching, tetanic spasms, and so on—I asked how she came home, and what condition she was in, and I was told she had drunk nearly a bottle of brandy—Mrs. Phillips told me that; that she came in and she had been drinking heavily that night, and she was drunk and rolling about—I asked Mr. Coppin the symptoms he had noticed—I did not learn from anybody that between three a.m. and the hour of her death she had been in torture; nobody told me that she had been or that she had not been—I did not ask Rose; she was absent taking the child downstairs—I asked Mr. Coppin, and the landlady, and she said she was simply shaking—I said before the Coroner that from my knowledge I thought it was quite possible that she had a fit of delirium tremens, and that syncope had supervened.

JOHN MEASURES . I live at Regency Place, Kennington Gross, and am foreman to Mr. Mouatt, the undertaker, of Waterloo Road—I had conduct of Clover's funeral; the body was buried by the parish on 27th October at Tooting Cemetery—the coffin had a plate with "M. Clover, 27 years"—I. made the coffin—I was present on 5th May when the grave was opened, and on 6th when the coffin was opened—I identified the coffin and the clothes on the body.

Cross-examined. I myself took the body and put it into the coffin.

ELIJAH GEORGE STEERS . I am assistant cemetery-keeper at the parochial cemetery at Tooting—there was an order from the parish for the burial of Clover, and I was present when the body was buried—in consequence of an order from the Home Office the body was exhumed on May 5th, and removed from the grave to the mortuary at the cemetery.

JOHN HARE . I am a labourer at Lambeth Cemetery; I live there—I was present when Clover's coffin was taken up—I opened it in Dr. Stevenson's presence, and he having taken from the body what he wanted it was reburied.

EMILY SLEAPER . I live with my mother, at 103, Lambeth Palace Road—she sometimes lets rooms—on October 6th last year the prisoner

came and looked at a room and arranged, and on the 7th he came in—he said he had been staying at Anderton's Hotel, and his luggage was marked with the label of that hotel—he had one room, the second floor front—he said he had means—he said nothing about what his profession was, beyond telling us he was Dr. Neill—he saw no patients at our house, and so far as I know he did not practise his profession at all—he said he came to England for his health—when he came he wore a brown macintosh and a felt hat with a flat top—some time after he came to stay at the Lambeth Palace Road he asked me to take a letter for him round to the Lambeth Road—he mentioned a number, but I forget it—he said he knew a young lady there, and he thought she had been poisoned; he wanted to find out if she was dead or not—a name was mentioned, but I could not remember it—he said she had a child—I said I would go at first, but afterwards I refused; I said I had better not, and he said himself that perhaps I had better not—I think he said he would go himself—he did not, about that time, tell me anything about what he had ascertained; or say anything in reference to her, not until later on—I think he stayed out the first Friday night that he stayed with us, because he came in on the Saturday morning; that Friday would be the 9th—he said he knew who poisoned the young lady whom he knew in the Lambeth Road; it was Lord Russell—the Russell case was going on in the Divorce Court at that time—he continued to live at our house until he left to go to America, as I understood, on 5th January—on 7th April he returned and took the one room, and on the 9th he came in and he remained there until he was arrested—Easter Sunday this year was on 17th April—he made no reference then to the letter he had wanted me to take to the Lambeth Read; it was not till he was being watched, in May I should think, that he said it was a good thing I did not go round to the house, as they were going to exhume the body—I asked him how he knew, and he said he had sent a Mr. Haynes round—I had seen Haynes—I understood him he had sent Haynes to make inquiries about the girl, so I thought; about the time the body was to be exhumed—my attention was not called to Clover's death at the time it occurred—I did not know anything about it—the prisoner never had dinner at home except on Sunday, but on Monday, 11th April, after he returned, he had the dinner which had been ordered in for the Sunday because, on the Sunday morning, he said he should not be home—on the Monday he dined at half-past six; he said he had a late appointment, and went out at ten—what time he came back I do not know—I remember hearing something about the inquests on Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell—we take Lloyd's Newspaper; there was a report of those inquests in it, I could not say if it was on Easter Sunday—the prisoner asked me for the paper; he wished to see the inquest on those two girls—he said it was a cold-blooded murder—in April we had also lodging in our house a medical student named Harper—he had been lodging with us for three years—he was a son of Dr. Harper, of Barnstaple—on the day after he asked for Lloyd's Newspaper the prisoner came into Mr. Harper's rooms, which were on the drawing-room floor—I was there—the prisoner asked me several questions about Mr. Harper, and looked at his medical books—I could not remember the exact questions now he asked me; I did not refuse to answer him—he asked me where Mr. Harper

lived, and what kind of gentleman he was—I told him he was very quiet—I felt no difficulty in answering the questions he put to me—later he told me that it was Mr. Harper who had poisoned Marsh and Shrivell—I said he was the last man in the world to do such a thing; that he must be mad—he told me not to tell anyone—he said the police had the proofs—I asked how he knew, and he said he had a detective friend from America—he said each of the women had had a letter before their death, warning them not to take the stuff that Mr. Harper would give them; I understood him to say that the police had the letters—I noticed that the house was being watched on the Sunday when the prisoner was away—that was in May, about 16th or 17th—I could not give the exact time, but some time about the middle of May—the prisoner said he was aware that the house was being watched—I told him they were watching him; he said they had made a mistake; that they were suspicious of him because he was an American—on one occasion he said they were after Mr. Harper; that was after the occasion in May that I have spoken of, I think—later I asked him why he took an interest in the inquest which was going on, and he said the man ought to be brought to justice—when he went away in May from Saturday to Tuesday he gave me on the Saturday a cash-box to take care of—that was before the house was being watched—when I became aware the house was being watched he asked me to give him the cash-box back—he gave me with the cash-box a note-book, they were wrapped up in a newspaper in one parcel—the cash-box was locked—I think it was on the Friday after his return that he got the cash-box from me—I was aware at that time that the house was watched—he mentioned it tome first—when I gave him the parcel he tore the note-book up, and asked me to burn the pieces, and I did so—later on a detective came to the house to make inquiries, and desiring to know the prisoner's movements—I then wrote out this paper at the prisoner's dictation, he being in bed at the time. (This was read as follows): "May 25th, 1892—I arrived in Liverpool on the 1st of October, 1891; came ashore on the 2nd of October; spent three days in Liverpool; arrived in London on the 5th of October, put up at Anderton's Hotel, spent two or three days there, then removed to 103, Lambeth Palace Road, where I remained till the 6th of January, 1892, on which night I returned to Liverpool on my way to America. There I remained till the 23rd of March, on which day I sailed from New York for Liverpool; I arrived in Liverpool on the 1st of April; in London the 2nd of April; returned to Liverpool on the 4th or 5th of April; spent two or three days in Liverpool, after which I returned to London; put up at Edwards's Hotel; spent two or three days there; then went down into the country, where I spent several days, after which I came to live at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, where I still reside."—that 25th May was the first date, as far as I know, on which any detective had come to the house to inquire—I asked the prisoner to write some letters for me in relation to a relative of mine, and he afterwards handed me these documents; one is in the form of a letter to Dr. Souttar, and the other is a draft advertisement—after he was arrested I received from him, from the prison, this letter, which I afterwards handed to Inspector Tunbridge—there was a cupboard in the prisoner's room—I have seen a box like this in it—I opened the box; empty capsules were in it, such as these—

when he was arrested on 3rd June the capsule box was not in the cupboard—I had failed to see the capsule box in the cupboard for about a week before his arrest; that would be after the house was being watched—up to that time the box had been there the whole time the prisoner was staying with us—I had occasion to go to the cupboard—when Tunbridge came I pointed out the things belonging to the prisoner, and Tunbridge took them away.

Cross-examined. When the prisoner came in October he had no patients and no visitors, as far as I could see, and no acquaintances—he had no sitting-room—he was thrown on himself and his own resources for amusement and occupation, as far as I could see—he told my sister in my hearing that he suffered from his heart and brain, and that he was obliged to take a long voyage for his health—he suggested to me that he was unable to sleep at night—during October I know he was in the habit of dosing himself with opium—he took a dose of medicine in water, and ate a lump of sugar afterwards—I don't know how often he took it—he appeared to be ill during October—I read the Russell divorce case in the Daily Telegraph—it was while I was reading it he mentioned that Lord Russell was the man who had poisoned the woman—he appeared a very inquisitive man; thrusting himself into persons' affairs with which he had nothing to do, so far as I could judge—I know that of the few acquaintances he had in London Haynes was an ex-detective whom he had casually met at a photographer's in the Westminster Bridge Road, and McIntyre, a police officer connected with Scotland Yard—when he went away for the few days he said he was going into the country to Berk-hamsted—he told me he was engaged to be married, and he said he was going down to where his sweetheart was staying—before he gave me the cash-box and note-book, I had seen him open the cash-box—I think he used to keep it in his portmanteau, and the note-book as well, I never saw it about—the newspaper in which the cash-box and note-book were wrapped was not tied, and there was nothing to prevent my reading the note-book, if I had had the curiosity to do so—I once complained of being ill, and he gave me medicine, not in a capsule.

Re-examined. In October he complained of not being in good health, and sleeplessness, and he was in the habit of taking laudanum—he did not continue that practice later on; it was only the first time he stayed with us; afterwards he seemed to have got better—he took very little at our place; he only dined on Sundays—he used to take milk and toast for his breakfast.

THOMAS STEVENSON . I am an M.D., and lecturer on medical jurisprudence at Guy's Hospital, and one of the analysts employed by the Government—on 6th May, in consequence of instructions from the Home Office, I went to the cemetery at Tooting; a grave was there pointed out to me by Steers, from which a coffin had been taken—the grave was in a very dry place—there had been no wet on the coffin—Measures was also there—I noticed on the coffin a plate with the name "M. Clover, 27 years"—the coffin was opened in my presence, and I examined the body, assisted by Mr. Dunn, senior demonstrator at Guy's Hospital—the body was that of a well-developed female of apparently between the ages of 26 and 30, as I judged—for the most part the body was in a very good state of preservation—I proceeded to a closer examination by dissection, external and internal—I opened the large cavities, the abdomen, chest and heart—the brain

was free from any tumour or hæmorrhage; it was much decomposed—I could detect no sign of disease, either there or in the upper portion of the spinal cord—there was no sign of disease in the heart, stomach, towels, spleen, liver or kidneys—the bladder was empty—the womb was unimpregnated; it was that of a woman who had borne a child or children—the stomach was empty—I found no indication of any disease in the vital organs that went to account for her death—I then, for the purposes of analysis, removed as much of the brain as I could; the stomach, the upper portion of the duodenum (the first portion of the small bowel); the whole of the liver; both kidneys; the spleen; the heart; and nearly half a pint of fluid which had drained into the cavity of the chest during the examination—the entire portions so removed weighed 114¼ ounces—I proceeded to analyse those for the presence of poison generally, but especially for alkaloidal poisons, of which strychnine is one—I detected strychnine in the stomach, liver, the fluid in the chest, and the brain—the kidneys and spleen I reserved for other purposes of analysis—I obtained from the stomach, liver, brain, and fluid from the chest an appreciable quantity of strychnine which I tested on a frog, injecting it beneath the skin of the frog's back—it had the characteristic results of strychnine poisoning, from which it died; it had tetanic convulsions, was very rigid, the forelegs were clasped across the chest; it had peculiar croaking, peculiar respiration, and, in fact, quite characteristic symptoms—I made, eventually, a quantitative analysis in which I obtained a weighing from the same viscera, that is, I took the portion obtained from nearly the whole of the stomach, about one-third of the liver, a quarter of the brain, and half of the chest fluid, and I obtained from those together, about two pounds of material, one-sixteenth of a grain—that one-sixteenth would represent nearly a full medicinal dose—one-twelfth is the maximum medicinal dose—in my judgment, from the evidence I have heard in the case to-day about the woman vomiting frequently, and from my finding her stomach empty, and from the quantity that I did find, and the indications I found, it points conclusively to a larger and fatal dose having been administered—I have no doubt that taking into account the vomiting and the length of time, it did point to a much larger dose—a little above half a grain has killed, but one grain is usually about a fatal dose—I was not present when Lucy Hose and Mrs. Vowles were examined—twitchings, convulsions and rigidity, with intermittence, I should say, would at once suggest the taking of strychnine—those convulsions and spasms are tetanic—they are not at all the symptoms you would find in the case of delirium tremens, there are very marked differences; in delirium tremens the mental faculties are obscured and perverted, in strychnine spasms they are often very acute and are not at all impaired, except perhaps just at the very last moment of life—in strychnine poisoning after twitchings the whole body, as a rule, becomes rigid and often arched backwards; the patient has a sense of being suffocated, due to a fixing of the muscles of the chest, and generally in half a minute, or more often in two or three minutes, all the spasm passes off, the patient is perfectly sensible, bathed in perspiration and free from spasms—Mr. Coppin referred to Clover being bathed in perspiration, that is a symptom of strychnine poisoning—it is also a sign of

delirium tremens, but the patient will remain bathed in perspiration continuously for hours throughout the whole of a bad case of delirium tremens—the case described of the spasms being intermittent, and the patient being collected and calm during the intervals of freedom from pain, would not be consistent with its being delirium tremens; the patient is generally not calm, but flurried, excited, tremulous, and certainly there is no real intermission of the symptoms; I mean a patient is not in a state of ease at one minute, and then in two or three minutes more in a state of violent convulsion—assuming the case to be one where there are those violent agonies, and spasms followed by minutes of freedom from pain, calmness and collectedness, that would be a symptom of, and would point to strychnine poisoning—the symptoms point to strychnine poisoning, and my analysis and post-mortem examination lead me to the same result—bromide of potassium is given to allay nervous irritation and excitement; it is often given in delirium tremens as a sedative—I cannot say whether it would make any difference if the bromide was taken after drink or drink after the bromide; all I can say is that if the man were to take drink after a sedative it might start delirium tremens—this (referring to a bottle) is the form in which strychnine appears in crystals—on 4th July I received from Inspector Tunbridge this case of pills, and a box containing several kinds of coated pills—I examined the whole of these pills, and analysed some completely—the case contained fifty-four bottles of pills, and of those bottles seven contained strychnine, all in medicinal quantities, taking pill by pill—this bottle, No. 2 in the case, was full, and contained 168 pills; I analysed them twice and found 1/2 2 grain in each pill; they are labelled "Strychnine, 1/16 grain, poison," but they are a little short of that quantity—twenty-two of them would make up a complete grain, and eleven of them would make half a grain—rather less than half a grain has been found to be a fatal dose, but certainly approaching a grain would be a fatal dose—I do not think that there is any poison that quite approaches in the character of its crystals the appearance of strychnine; to a skilled eye there is something rather characteristic; but I would not, with all my knowledge, establish an opinion by mere examination by eye; I think an ordinary observer might easily mistake the crystals for those of some other substance—I also had produced to me a box of capsules; one of them was given to me called a five-grain capsule, and into that I put a score of these pills—these pills contain other matters; they weigh about three parts of a grain each; the chief part of them is milk, sugar, and a little accipient to make the mass stick together, and then there is the strychnine—strychnine in small quantities is given as a tonic in nervous diseases, generally as a tonic; it is very largely given as a medicine in small doses, not commonly in 1/16 of a grain though—I got the twenty pills into the No. 5 capsule without powdering or breaking up the pills—by powdering them you could get a few more in, I think not many more—if strychnine crystals, themselves, were put in of course there would be a great deal more strychnine; I don't know if I tried with a five-grain capsule, but you could get more than five grains of strychnine into it, because strychnine is heavier than many powders; you would be able to get into a five-grain capsule seven or eight grains of strychnine generally, if the strychnine crystals were powdered up, and put in with no other

matter—the time at which a fatal dose of strychnine begins to operate varies according to the mode in which it is taken, and the condition of the patient—if it is taken in a capsule, first the capsule must take time to dissolve; I have experimented with them in warm water, and I find it takes a quarter of an hour at least before they soften and give way; then the form in which the strychnine is in in the capsule affects it; if it is in a hard pill mass it will not operate so quickly as if it is in loose powder; it would dissolve more slowly—if it is given in a liquid the symptoms are produced more quickly—then the time varies greatly according to the contents of the stomach, and the state of the stomach, as to the period of digestion, acidity of the stomach, and many conditions affect it—the margin for the beginning to operate of a fatal dose is from two minutes, but from ten to twenty minutes is the usual time when it is taken in any article of food, it may vary from, two, five or ten minutes up to three-quarters of an hour, and when the patient is asleep longer than that, two or three hours exceptionally; generally it is three-quarters of an hour after it comes in contact with the stomach that it begins to operate—when it operates fatally would depend upon the dose, and the condition of the stomach, and whether it is retained in the patient or not—I heard that this woman on her death-bed vomited frequently; that in my judgment would probably have the effect of sending out in the vomit some portion of the strychnine taken.

Cross-examined. I think all these little bottles were full when they were brought to me; certainly this one containing the 168 pills was—I took some out to experiment with—I have heard Dr. Graham say to-day that he had attended Clover for drink; her nervous system would be very much upset—I cannot say exactly what the effect of alcohol would be, but if a person were on the verge of delirium tremens I should think it would render the person more susceptible to the effect of strychnine; it is a question of degree—I think a person like that would be affected sooner than a person living a temperate and healthy life—from the time the pill or draught has first been swallowed until the time the symptoms first show themselves is usually within half an hour—if a patient has been asleep it may be retarded for two or three hours; I have never known it retarded for two hours by sleep alone, but it has when opium or morphia has been taken—I discovered no morphia in my post-mortem examination; I know of no instance of its being found so long after death—I can give an instance of death occurring from strychnine five and a half hours afterwards. The first case I gave evidence in in this box, was the case of Silas Barlow in 1876, where he had poisoned his mistress with nux vomica containing strychnine, and she died in five and a quarter hours—the fatal dose was not known, but very little was found in the body after death—I do not think that was an exceptional case; I think there are two cases where death occurred after six hours—I hardly know if there was medical attendance in Barlow's case; I gave evidence, but I did not make the analysis; I think there was no medical attendance till after death, but I cannot be positive—I think in the other two cases there was some medical attendance; I don't know about sedatives—my impression is that a doctor was called in who did something to alleviate their sufferings—there is no remedy for strychnine, nothing to alleviate it really—chloroform would prolong life—injecting morphia does not seem to delay the progress

much, but chloroform or chloral does allay the spasms, and so protract the time before death will occur—when I heard of the evidence given before the Coroner and the Magistrate of the twitching of the body, the convulsive spasms, the perspiration, and other matters, it at once conveyed to me the idea of poisoning by strychnine, without the finding of strychnine—when I made my post-mortem I had not heard of the symptoms, but I may say that I had heard of strychnine—I did not confine myself to strychnine at all—before I injected into the frog I had performed the colour test—the frog presented the symptoms of strychnine poisoning—the frog is a cold-blooded animal, and a human being is warm-blooded, but the frog is a very delicate animal for symptoms; I don't know that it is very susceptible; but it is satisfactory at all events, and probably it does not give so much suffering as experimenting on a rabbit or dog—brucine is one of the component parts of nux vomica—it is only a delicate and difficult chemical operation to separate strychnine from brucine when you get small quantities, such as a grain or two—I found no brucine in this analysis; but there is no difficulty in detecting brucine in the presence of strychnine—I don't know if I should have detected brucine if it had been present, because I don't know anything about the detection of brucine some months after death—you can detect prussic acid months after death—I found none—in many cases I should not expect to be able to detect disease of the spinal cord after the body had been for some months in the ground, but in some cases I should—disease of the spinal cord might cause tetanic spasms—Mr. Coppin described the spasms as of a peculiar kind—a vegetable poison is generally more difficult to discover than a mineral poison—I do not put it that the colour test in strychnine poisoning is uncertain and fallacious, but it must be confirmed by other experiments, proof that it is an alkaloid, separating from the material in a particular manner, giving the colour test with several re-agents appropriate for strychnine, and the fact that it does produce the physiological effect on the frog—as a rule we are not justified in resorting to experiments on animal life till we get some strong presumptive evidence justifying it, and giving good ground for thinking it desirable to do it—I found strychnine obscurely crystalline—other substances present the same appearance as strychnine; I would not in such small quantities rely on the crystalline form—the form of the crystals in this case does not enable me to pronounce positively; nor does the colour test by itself—the action on the frog shows either strychnine or brucine I think—I injected the fluid into the frog after subjecting it to bichromate of potassium, and the action of the frog would help me to the belief that strychnine was what was injected; it confirmed absolutely in my mind the presence of the poison—the capsules I have been shown are merely gelatine—quinine is sometimes taken in them—drugs nauseous to the taste are put in them and taken by patients—probably there is nothing exceptional even in a non-professional man possessing them—I don't think they are very much used in London; they are used—I believe they are all made in America: one always goes to an American firm for them I believe, or else the retailer gets them from an American firm—I found, 1/16 grain of strychnine absorbed in the body; it would be secreted in the urine; of course it is distributed through all parts of the body, and as I operated on a great part of the body I might have got the greater

portion from the abdominal viscera—the heart was normal; the lungs had been a little congested I should think—I should not expect in death from strychnine poisoning that the heart would be contracted; it is very variable, sometimes it is full and sometimes contracted—symptoms of strychnine poisoning which are always present are the spasms attended with clearness of intellect and remittance, and so on; it is the aggregate of the symptoms; I put the whole thing together and say that drawing the inference from the aggregate number of circumstances I come to the conclusion it was strychnine poisoning—many cases of strychnine poisoning have been tried; Palmer's case was in the infancy of our knowledge of strychnine—there was not a great conflict of knowledge about that case; we knew little of strychnine then; it was the first homicidal case in which it was used, and some time after I had the first suicidal case; of late years we have had many cases—I have been through Palmer's case lately; the body generally was not rigid but flaccid; the legs and arms were rigid—the rigidity is not invariable—one symptom of strychnine is rigor after death, but it is not always present, it depends whether the patient dies in a spasm or in an interval of remission—when a person dies in a state of exhaustion the body would be flaccid in strychnine poisoning—rigidity is not invariable—I think the time between which the poison was taken and death is very important; it did not exceed the extreme maximum time—three-quarters of an hour is the common time—I think an inexperienced person may make a mistake in the colour test if the drugs are not pure—the colour I rely on is a purple-violet, which then passes through a play of colours I cannot explain—I know nothing else that gives that precise play of colours.

Re-examined. The length of time in which a fital dose will prove fatal depends on the mode in which it is administered, and to some extent upon the condition of the patient and on the quantity administered—death is generally more speedy from a very large dose, and if by vomiting the patient has got rid of a portion of the dose it would be a reason for expecting that the patient would live longer, or would recover—if in one of the paroxsyms the patient dies, I should expect rigidity of the body after death, and that that rigidity would last for some time—it would generally disappear a week or two after death, but in Palmer's case some portions of the body remained rigid from 21st November, when he died, I think, to early in January, when the body was exhumed—in this case over six months had elapsed—as regards the absence of brucine, so far as it is valuable at all it would be an indication that the strychnine had not been administered in the form of nux vomica—I have not experimented in the direction of tracing brucine after death, and I don't know anyone who has—that which I obtained was obscurely crystalline; but the fact that there were crystals; is of value—I arrived at the result that strychnine was the cause of death, not taking each matter as isolated, but as cumulative and supporting each other, the appearance, the colour test, the fact that it was an alkaloid, the crystals, and, finally, the action on the frog—the frog is an animal which remains rigid long after death, and it may be made rigid though many other of its vital portions are cut off first; I cut the head off and then made the body rigid—having considered the matter carefully in the light of my experience I have given the result I arrived at—when I was proceeding to make this examination I had heard of strychnine; that

was after I had made my examination of Marsh and Shrivell—I received the order from the Treasury on 4th May, and that mentioned strychnine—that was after I had made an examination of Marsh and Shrivell, and the day before I gave evidence at the inquests on those persons.

JOHN WILSON MCCULLOCH . I live at 374, Slater Street, Ottawa, in Canada—I am a traveller for Jardine and Co., Toronto, in coffee, spices, baking powder, extracts—at the end of February this year I was staying at Blanchard's Hotel, Quebec, from the evening of the 29th February to the afternoon of 8th March—I there made the prisoner's acquaintance—I knew him as Dr. Cream—he occupied a room upon the same floor as I was, and next to me—I saw him several times each day—a day or two after I got there on Saturday afternoon I felt unwell—I mentioned it to the prisoner, who took me to his room and gave me a pill, which he took from a bureau drawer, a dressing case—the pills were in bottles—he gave me an antibilious pill and a blue mass pill—he showed me photographs—next day I had conversation with him on business after dinner—he asked, with reference to my samples, if he could handle them to advantage in London, and before that we had conversation about each of our businesses—he took me to his room and showed me some samples he had received from the States of pills and patent medicines—they were all in bottles; there were about eighteen or twenty bottles, various—he opened his tin trunk and took out a cash-box, and from the cash-box he took out a wide-mouthed bottle about three inches long by one inch diameter; it contained whitish crystals and was about one-third full, similar to the contents of this bottle—he asked me, referring to the bottle, did I know what that was; he said, "That is poison"—I said, "For God's sake, what do you do with that?"—he said, "I give that to the women to get them out of the family way"—I said, "How do you do that?"—he said, "I give it to them in these," showing me a box containing eighteen or twenty capsules; it was a box exactly like this; the capsules were the same, but I did not see the cover because he laid it on one side—the capsules were about five-eighths of an inch long—he stepped backwards to the trunk and produced a pair of false whiskers, or divided beard without mustaches—I said, "What do you use these for?"—he said, "To prevent identification when operating"—he led me to believe previous to that that he procured abortion—we had several conversations about his visit to London, and during one of them he told me that he had had lots of fun in London with the women; he mentioned Waterloo Road, Westminster Road, London Road, and, Victoria Road, and said he had met as many as three women on one night, between the hours of 10 p.m. and 3. am., and had been in their company and had used them, and had paid no more than one shilling to each—he and I drove round on Sunday evening, 6th March; he pointed out where his sisters, brothers and other relatives lived, and were in business, and where he had worked as a boy in his father's shipyard—he told me that he was over there to secure his share of his father's estate, as his father had died about a month or so previous—a photograph, he particularly showed me, he said was that of a lady, Laura Sabbatini, to whom he was engaged to be married in London—he showed me no photographs of his relatives, but photographs of other women he did show me; there were several photographs on a bureau, and those were the only ones I paid much attention to—he showed me some jewellery in

the tin box, bracelets and brooches, and I think there was a necklace—he told me he had gotten them back from a lady to whom he had been engaged, but who had got married during his absence in the States; he said they were very valuable—these pills are very similar to the pills he showed me; this is not the sample case nor the bottles I saw.

Cross-examined. I met him as a visitor staying at the same hotel; I was not introduced to him; he was a casual acquaintance made in the hotel sitting-room—I was with him about eight and a half days—we only once went out for a drive together—we were a good deal in each other's company in the evening, and grew chatty and friendly—I saw him take morphia pills on one occasion—he said he had these pills because his head was bothering him—I told him he ought not to take so many—that was on the Thursday, 3rd March, previous to the conversation about practising abortion, and the women in London—he spent a good deal of money not only in mine, but in everybody's company—I was not continually associating with him—I saw him at meal times, and at night—if he entered a room I did not get up and leave it—I did not believe a word he said about the abortion at the time; he made a statement about it two days before he showed me the pills—I believed him at that time—I still continued to speak to him—there was only one room to sit in, and I sat in the same room with him although I knew he was a professed abortionist, I was not going to stand outside—I chatted and talked with him in the same way—he always had a loose tongue about women—I don't know if he went to some queer places in Quebec; I did not go with him—he did not tell me he had been to some brothels in Quebec—he showed me some improper and indecent photographs—I-think he said his head bothered him so that he could hot sleep at night, and that in consequence of that he took morphia to relieve his brain—I have no record of those conversations in my diary; I do not keep one—I have no memoranda of it; I trust to my memory—I have been brought to London specially for this case.

Re-examined. I had read in the papers an account of the identification of Thomas Neill with Dr. Cream, the person I knew, in connection with the inquest, and thereupon I identified the person as the person whom I had met in Quebec, and I wrote a letter to the chief of the police at Montreal on the advice of friends—after doing so, a communication was made to me through Inspector Jarvis, who was out in America on this matter, and I was subpœnaed to come here and give evidence—the prisoner talked part of the time about some musical instruments that I helped him to purchase, that brought us together—I did not continue to be friendly with him to the end—I lost confidence in him on Monday afternoon, through a conversation about an American who had come over therewith plenty of money; and the prisoner said he ought to have had that man's money; and I asked him how was that; and he said, "I could give that man a pill, and put him to sleep, and his money would have been mine"—I said, "You would not kill the man for 2,000 dols., would you?"—and he said, "I ought to have done it," and he regretted he had not done so, and I shunned him then—the man's name was Smith in the hotel, but his real name was not Smith, as he was arrested in Montreal for his crime, but I forget the name; he had robbed his employer, and got to Canada, and he had stopped at the hotel two or three days previous to my arrival there.

GEORGE PERCIVAL WYATT . I am a Coroner for the County of London and Surrey—about 19th October, 1891, I received this letter and envelope—I received also about 2nd or 3rd May this letter and envelope, and enclosed in the letter was this other letter and envelope to the foreman of the jury. (These letters were read in the opening; they were as follows:" October 19th, 1891. To G.P. Wyatt, Esq., Coroner,—I am writing to say that if you and your satellites fail to bring the murderer of Ellen Donworth, alias Ellen Linnell, late of 8, Duke Street, to justice, I am willing to give you such assistance as will bring the murderer to justice, provided your Government is willing to pay me £300,000 for my services; no pay unless successful—A. O'Brien, Detective." "London, May 2nd, 1892. To Coroner Wyatt, St. Thomas's Hospital, London. Dear Sir,—Will you please give the enclosed letter to the foreman of the Coroner's jury, at the inquest on Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, and oblige—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray." "London, May 2nd. To the foreman of the Coroner's jury, in the case of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell. Dear Sir,—I beg to inform you that one of my operators has positive proof that Walter Harper, a medical student of St. Thomas's Hospital, and a son of Dr. Harper, of Bear Street, Barnstaple, is responsible for the deaths of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, he having poisoned these girls with strychnine; this proof you can have on paying my bill for services to George Clarke, Detective, 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, to whom I will give the proof on his paying my bill.—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray."

ALFRED D. ACLAND . lam a member of the firm of W. H. Smith and Son, having among other places of business, 186, Strand—on 6th November, 1891, I received this letter, dated 5th November, and the envelope—it had been through the post—it is addressed to Frederick Smith, but I opened it—I handed it to our solicitors. (This letter was read in the opening; it was as follows): "London, 5th November, 1891. Mr. F. D. W. Smith, care of William H. Smith and Son, 186, Strand. Sir,—On Tuesday night, 13th October (last month), a girl named Ellen Donworth, but sometimes called Ellen Linnell, who lived at 8, Duke Street, Westminster Bridge Road, was poisoned with strychnine. After her death, among her effects were found two letters criminating you, which if they ever become public property will surely convict you of the crime. I enclose you a copy of one of the letters which the girl received on the morning of 13th October (the day on which she died). Just read it, and then judge for yourself what hope you have of escape if the law officers ever get hold of these letters. Think of the shame and disgrace it will bring on your family if you are arrested and put in prison for this crime. My object in writing you is to ask if you will retain me at once as your counsellor and legal adviser. If you employ me at once to act for you in this matter I will save you from all exposure and shame in the matter; but if you wait till arrested before retaining me, then I cannot act for you, as no lawyer can save you after the authorities get hold of these two letters. If you wish to retain me, just write a few lines on paper, say: 'Mr. Fred Smith wishes to see Mr. Jayne, the barrister, at once.' Paste this in one of your shop windows at 186, Strand, next Tuesday morning, and when I see it I will drop in and have a private interview with you. I can save you if you retain me in time, but not otherwise.—Yours truly, H. Bayne."

JOSEPH HARPER . I am a medical man, practising in Barnstaple—I received this letter, of the 25th April, 1892, on 26th, the three enclosures of Ellen Don worth's death, and the cutting from Lloyd's Weekly News produced—my son, Walter Joseph Harper, was pursuing his medical studies in London for some years at St. Thomas's Hospital to qualify for his degree—he qualified in March or April—I showed him the letter and its enclosures when he came back to Barnstaple.

WALTER JOSEPH HARPER . I am the son of the last witness—I recollect my father showing me the letter and its enclosures—I resided for some time at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, Mrs. Sleaper's—I was then studying at St. Thomas's—last Easter I was at Bromley from Saturday to the Tuesday—I had never spoken to the prisoner—I knew him by sight.

HENRY JOHN CLARK . I keep a private inquiry office at 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross—on 5th May last I received an envelope like this (produced)—I handed it over to Inspector Harvey about three weeks afterwards.

FANNY TAYLOR . I am married—Alice Marsh was my sister—the writing on this piece of paper traced to the prisoner is my sister's; also that on the other pieces.

JOHN HAYNES . I am an engineer—I am out of employment—about the beginning of April last I went to lodge at Mr. Armstead's, a photographer, of 129, Westminster Bridge Road—I was there introduced to Neill—he afterwards told me he was agent for the Harvey Drug Company—he showed me a case of samples I have since seen—I was to an extent a good deal in his company—I went about with him in the daytime, and in the evening sometimes—on one occasion Mr. Armstead made a communication that we were being followed, that his house was being watched—I asked Neill if it was he they were following—he said, "No. certainly not"—I said, "I cannot go to the music-hall with you to-night without making inquiry"—that was about 14th May—instead of going to the music-hall that night I went to make inquiries—the following day I told Neill he ought to have told me the evening we were together that he knew he had been followed for some time—he said he had been followed for another man who lived in the same house as he; he said his name was Walter Joseph Harper, a medical student at St. Thomas's—I asked him why they followed Harper—he made a verbal statement at that time, and afterwards a written statement which I took down in his presence with his permission—his verbal statement was as nearly as possible the same as was afterwards reduced to writing—these are the rough notes I took at the time, at the Café Paris in Ludgate Hill, where we went to dine together:—"Walter J. Harper, M.R.C.S., L.R.C.R., student at St. Thomas's, at one time well-known among a low class of people, B.T. lived at time of murder at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, father an M. D. at Barnstaple (B, St.), being supplying son with ample means while in London, promising son partnership on account of, etc. W.J.H. got girl at Mutton's at Brighton in trouble some time back, procured abortion for her. Stamford Street girls aware of this, H. visiting them, they threatened him, blackmail, victims. W.J.H. weeks before tried to purchase strychnine, telling him of his trouble, asking what he could do under the circumstances, be well to get rid of them, etc., person suspecting wrote

girls warning, anonymous letter, etc.; is fairish, 5-8, slim, thick brown mustache, haughty and distant in manner, gentlemanly, etc., etc. Ask Sidney Jones, consulting surgeon, Thomas's. Issued invite to H. to wedding of daughter. Left day before inquest suddenly, leaving property behind, 118, Stamford Street, Mrs. E. Vogt. Did girls receive anon, letter before affair. J. H.—A. B. H."—the name of the terrace is underlined—"B. T. "is Blythe Terrace—that is to show she lived there—"B. St. "is Bear Street—"on account of, etc., "means" on account of old age"—that was given to me to make inquiries by Neill—he gave me the names of Marsh and Shrivell—they received anonymous letters before death, before taking poisons from Dr. Harper—that was given me in order that I might investigate it if I wished to prove his statement—after making that memorandum he mentioned incidentally at the time that Harper had not alone poisoned Marsh and Shriven, but three other women—he mentioned the names, Ellen Donworth, Matilda Clover, Loo Harvey—some time after the first meeting he told me that Matilda Clover lived at 27, Lambeth Road—he went with me and pointed out the house to me—he said she had been poisoned with strychnine, and that her body should be exhumed, when the poison would be found—he asked me to make inquiries that very morning—he waited outside till I made inquiries—I inquired if Matilda Clover had died there from poison—he said Loo Harvey had been poisoned by Harper at a music-hall, and that she had fallen dead either at the music-hall or between two music-halls which he named, I think the Royal and the Oxford—he said Loo Harvey resided at 55, Townshend Road, St. John's Wood—I went with him there—he pointed me out the house where she had resided, 55, Townshend Road—I made inquiries—he said the reason Harper had told him of the victims in the different cases was that Marsh and Shrivell were acquainted with Harper at Brighton—he said he was on terms of the greatest friendship with Harper—he said that Harper being in trouble had asked him to procure strychnine for the purpose of poisoning those girls—he said that he had written an anonymous letter to Shrivell and Marsh, warning them not to take medicines of any kind from Dr. Walter J. Harper—I have made other notes for my own purposes—they are at home, 129, Westminster Bridge Road—apart from these notes I wrote a statement which I gave to the authorities—I can find my other notes.

Wednesday, 19th October.

JOHN HAYNES (Re-called by MR. GILL). After I had been to Townshend Road with the prisoner, I went there with Sergeant McIntyre, and pointed out the house to him—when the prisoner made the statement to me about young Mr. Harper, I told him it was a very grave matter, and asked him how it was that he had not communicated what he knew to the authorities, and that I thought it my duty to do so—he said it was very foolish of me to think about doing such a thing, as there was more money to be made out of it by seeing Walter J. Harper's father at Barnstaple—I said to him that this was not America, and he could not do as he pleased here; that it was a penal offence—he said he did not care—I remember being on an omnibus with him towards the end of May, and hearing the newspaper boys calling out, "Arrests in the Stamford Street case," upon which the prisoner appeared agitated, and called my attention to it, and he wanted to get down and buy the papers; we were then some

hundred yards from Charing Cross, coming west—I remonstrated with him as to getting down, and said, "We shall be at Charing Cross directly, and then you can buy the papers"—when the 'bus stopped at Charing Cross we gat down, and he purchased the whole of the evening papers, all that the vendor had, and he gave me one to read, in fact, he gave me the whole of them—he asked me to read that item of news; it referred to an arrest in what was known as "The Stamford Street Road to Ruin" case—it had nothing to do with the inquest on Marsh and Shrivell; when I read it to him he appeared much relieved—I was with him on the day of his arrest until five minutes before his arrest, and I learnt of it later on in the evening; he wanted to send for me, but was not allowed—his arrest took place in the early part of the week following the omnibus incident—this pencil note I produced at the inquest—I went with Inspector Harvey to Westminster Bridge Road last night and found there a telegram and a note with it, and this little memorandum on the back of a letter from a notable person to myself—it is rubbed, it had been in my pocket for weeks; it is the name and address of Matilda Clover in Lambeth Road—the telegram has nothing to do with the case; it is from the prisoner to myself.

Cross-examined. I have travelled a good deal, in America among other places in the world—I was introduced to the prisoner at Mr. Armstead's the photographer's—during the progress of our acquaintance we frequently discussed America and some prominent people there—he told me he had travelled in various parts of America—when we spoke about this blackmailing I believe I told him it was punishable with penal servitude—I acquired that legal knowledge in travelling about the world a good deal for forty years—I am an engineer out of employment—I will with the greatest pleasure write on a piece of paper where I was last employed and by whom. (The witness did so)—I may tell you I never thought I should be a witness against Neill—this refers to a firm of engineers in America, where I was working in January, 1891—I was not out of employment since then—I am not a detective—I have been a private inquiry agent in London and elsewhere, making inquiries for the British Government, in America and elsewhere—I told that to the prisoner—I mentioned the name of Le Caron to him—when I mentioned that I had conducted private inquiries for the British Government he naturally grew more confidential with me. Q.—And he told you everything you desired to know? A.—I did not desire to know anything; he told me this—I did not say I thought the matter should be put before the authorities—he showed me a photograph of young Mr. Harper, which he said he had stolen from Miss Sleaper's album—the more I wrote the more confidential he grew, he told me that Loo Harvey had dropped down dead in the street, poisoned at a music-hall—he did not tell me that three weeks after that alleged poisoning he had met Loo Harvey in Air Street and given her a drink—if he had told me that it would have done away with the poisoning story, and destroyed my interest in him—I have no claim against the British Government, nor against the late Home Secretary—no money was owing to me; I never told the prisoner it was—I was not anxious to get employment in the police force—I knew Mr. Soames—I have written to Sir Edward Jenkinson many times—he gave me a testimonial—I did toot recommend myself to him as an engineer or private inquiry agent—

I was introduced to him—it was not my ambition to obtain the position of inspector in the London or Liverpool police, or in any police—my conversations with the prisoner took place at the Cafe Paris, Ludgate Hill, and other places—I am always provided with pencil and paper—I openly jotted down everything—I have seen the prisoner on many occasions taking morphia and strychnine and opium.

PATRICK MCINTYRE (Police Sergeant Criminal Investigation Department). About the beginning of May I made the prisoner's acquaintance—I was introduced to him by Mr. William Armstead, a photographer, of Westminster Bridge Bead—he told me he was a doctor of medicine, that he had studied at St. Thomas's Hospital, and had been at Edinburgh and Dublin, and afterwards had gone to America—about 19th May he spoke to me about being followed, and asked me to make some inquiries—at that time I knew of no suspicion attaching to him—I made some inquiry, and saw Inspector Harvey and Chief Inspector Mulvaney about the matter—on 19th May we were in the Pheasant public-house, in the Lambeth Palace Road; I was waiting there until he went to his lodgings, 103, Lambeth Palace Road, to fetch his case and some letters, for the purpose of showing that he was a bonâ-fide commercial traveller—Inspectors Harvey and Mulvaney were with us—the prisoner produced his case and some correspondence and opened it; there was some conversation with regard to it, and then Harvey and Mulvaney went away, and I was left with the prisoner—he said to me that a few nights previously he had met a rip in the Westminster Bridge Road, who had informed him that she was sent after him by the police for the purpose of ascertaining who and what he was, as they suspected him in connection with the Stamford Street poisoning cases—that was the first mention of the matter by him—after that I was in communication with my superiors—on 24th May I went to his house at Lambeth Palace Road, midday, and he arranged to meet me that evening at 7.30—he did not keep the appointment, and I went to see him at eight in the evening—he had sent Miss Sleaper to say he could not keep the appointment, he was ill in bed—I found him in bed when I went at eight—he then said that about a week before the last inquest (that was the one upon Marsh and Shrivell) he was leaving his lodgings at 103, Lambeth Palace Road in the morning, when he was stopped in the street by a man who said he was a detective, and gave his name as Murray; the man questioned him as to Dr. Harper, and as to Dr. Harper's associations with women—he then produced a letter, addressed to Shrivell and Marsh, at Stamford Street, the letter having passed through the post—the purport of the letter was to warn the girls to be careful of Dr. Harper, as he would serve them as he had done the girls Clover and Harvey—I told him that I did not know any detective named Murray; I never heard of anyone of that name in the police service—I asked the prisoner to describe Murray—he described him as from 40 to 42, 5 ft. 8 in., or 9 in. high, wearing a dark cutaway coat, light tweed trousers, hard felt hat, dark whiskers, moustache, and beard, full grown, with straggling grey hairs—I asked the prisoner if he knew Clarke, or had ever written to anyone named Clarke; he said no—I said I had been instructed by my superiors to obtain a specimen of his writing—I took a sheet of notepaper from his table, which he pointed out to me, and I read to him a few words from the British Medical Journal, which was just lying by, and the prisoner wrote it at my dictation—this

is it; he sat up in bed and wrote it—this piece of paper which I took from his notepaper has, I find, the water-mark, "Fairfield, superfine quality"—the letter sent to Dr. Harper was shown to me by Inspector Tunbridge, it has the same water-mark. (MR. GEOGHEGAN said that he did not dispute the question of handwriting or water-mark)—I and the prisoner talked the poisoning cases all over, not the Marsh and Shrivell cases particularly—I said, "Doctor, you appear to be pretty well posted in these matters," referring to the poisoning cases; the matter at King's Cross was spoken of where a man was in custody or had been charged—the prisoner said, "Yes, I hare followed the matter closely in the British Medical Journal; being a medical man, I take an interest in matters of this kind"—I had never heard of Clover up to the time the prisoner said Murray had spoken of Harper, and said the girls would be served in the same way as Clover and Harvey—I did not know whether there was such a person as Harvey—I had never heard of those names till he mentioned them—I asked him if he would let me have a general statement as to where he had been since he had been in this country, where he had stayed at—he said he would do so if I called the following morning—I called the following morning, and found Miss Sleaper then writing this document as to his movements, in his room—I read it over in his presence, and told him he had not accounted for the date on which the Stamford Street poisoning case occurred—he said, "So soon as I get out of bed, and I am able to look up some dates, I will be able to fix my whereabouts at that particular time: but I think I was at Berkhamsted"—the next day I met him in the Lambeth Palace Road; he said, "I am going away to-day, at three o'clock; will I be arrested if I do so?"—I said, "I cannot tell you; if you walk across with me to Scotland Yard, I will make inquiries"—we proceeded together about half-way across Westminster Bridge, when he stopped and said, "I will not go any further with you; I am suspicious of you, and I believe you are playing me double; you sent a rip after me to meet me outside the British Medical Journal office"—I pointed out to him that was a matter of impossibility, as I was not aware he was going there—he walked with me as far as the corner of Stangate—he said he would consult a solicitor as to the annoyance caused to him by the police, being followed and so on, and he asked me if I could recommend him one, and I said no I could not, it would not be consistent with my position to do so—I made his acquaintance by accident in the first instance—I was one of the officers entrusted to make inquiries with regard to Loo Harvey, and I did so with a view of tracing the death and the body, and getting some traces of her—Haynes went with me and pointed out a house, 55, Townshend Road, where I made inquiries, but I could not succeed in finding any trace of such a person—I made other inquiries, and inquiries were made by the police, with regard to Loo Harvey—the only thing he showed me with regard to the Harvey's Drug Company was a letter in the public-house—he gave it to me open; I don't remember his mentioning the name of any person with whom he did business.

Cross-examined. I am attached to the Criminal Investigation Department at Scotland Yard—throughout the London divisions there are a number of divisional detectives different from Scotland Yard—information of any Crime in London would come first to the local police, and be forwarded to Scotland Yard—I do not know anything about

the divisional police—on (1st November I received a letter about Clover's death—I don't know whether that letter came from Scotland Yard—Tunbridge would know more about it than I know—I know Haynes, not as an ex-detective or a private inquiry agent—I first knew him as an engineer on board ship; he is a friend of mine—I asked him what he had been doing in America—he has been in the Home Office department, as a secret agent to make inquiries about suspected persons—I was connected with the dynamite case—the prisoner told me about Hurray stopping him in the street and telling this story; at first I did not believe it, I thought at first that some persons were trying to blackmail the prisoner—I spoke to Haynes about it the first or second week in May—I and Haynes had constant communications while the conversation between mo and the prisoner was going on—the prisoner knew that—I conveyed to Chief Inspector Mulvaney what the prisoner stated to me—I said I would make inquiries, and I introduced the prisoner to Mulvaney—Mulvaney was only once in his company, I was present then—I don't think poisoning was mentioned then—he told mo he was connected with the women who were poisoned; that was after the conversation with Haynes—I first heard from the prisoner about Loo Harvey—I presume Haynes mentioned it to me afterwards—the prisoner gave mo photographs—I will not swear that Haynes showed me one—I don't know what photographs he did show me, I don't know that he showed me any photographs—he may have done so—he has shown me photographs—I have met him in my official capacity, in a business capacity.

GEORGE HARVEY (Inspector L). I am stationed at Lambeth—I have had charge of the inquiries respecting the deaths of Ellen Don worth, Alice Marsh, Emma Shrivell, and Matilda Clover—I first heard of the death of Matilda Clover on 28th April of the present year—I first heard of the cause of her death after the prisoner's arrest, at Bow Street Police-court—he was arrested on 4th June, and taken to Bow Street—up to that time I had not heard any suggestion from anyone as to her death being caused by strychnine—I first heard of the letter to Dr. Broadbent at Bow Street, on one of the remands—the inquiry at Bow Street began on 21st July, and the commitment was on the 22nd August—the inquiry on 21st June was for blackmailing, when I first heard of the Broadbent letter—27, Lambeth Road, is in my division—the matter would be sent from Scotland Yard on to me as the local inspector in charge of the district; it was not forwarded to me. Q.—How was it you heard of Clover's death? A.—I had sent my officers to all parts of London to make inquiries of prostitutes, and Sergeant Ward made a report, and I went and saw Lucy Rose at 88, Lambeth Road—I took a statement from her relating to the circumstances of Matilda Clover's death—I also went to 27, Lambeth Road, and saw the landlady, Mrs. Phillips or Vowles—in consequence of information which I obtained from those persons I communicated with the Treasury, and an application was made to the Homo Secretary with a view to the exhumation of the body of Matilda Clover—the order was made on 5th May, and the body was exhumed on the 6th—up to the 27th April there had been no suggestion or suspicion with reference to the death of anyone of this class of cases except Donworth, Marsh, and Shrivell.

Cross-examined. I had heard nothing of Clover's case then; I knew

nothing about her—Waterloo Bridge Road is in my district—as you go down Waterloo Road from the Strand the station is on the right; Morpeth Place is on the left, almost immediately opposite the station—there is a large lamp at the corner—Morpeth Place is a place consisting of bad characters—going down the Westminster Bridge Road the Canterbury Music-hall is on the right as you go under the railway bridge; Gatti's Music-hall is on the left, within 200 or 300 yards of the Canterbury—I remember the death of Ellen Donworth on 13th October—she staggered, and fell in the road by the Lord Hill public-house, within thirty or forty yards of Morpeth Place—her death caused a fearful sensation in South Lambeth; it was called "The Lambeth mystery"—I was present at the inquest—a man named Slater was under examination in November—I am not sure whether he was under remand at the time of the inquest—I took some of the witnesses in Donworth's case to identify him; he was a tall man, with drooping shoulders and straggly beard, and there was a general worn out appearance about him; he was not stout; age about forty or forty-five; he had a peculiar look about the eyes—I don't know that he was tried before the Lord Chief Justice for attempting to poison a woman in a public-house—he was only seen by the witnesses at the inquest on Donworth on one occasion—they failed to identify him, and the Treasury retired from the case against him; he then went to Clerkenwell, and my division had nothing more to do with it.

By the COURT. Slater was a jeweller's traveller—he was not discharged by the Magistrate; he was tried here, I believe—I know nothing about it; only hearsay.

ALFRED WARD (Sergeant L). I had instructions to make inquiries relating to the deaths of Marsh and Shrivell, not as to Donworth specifically, but inquiries among that class of women—on 28th April I made a report to Inspector Harvey of certain information I had obtained the day previous, the 27th—up to that time I had not heard any suggestion of foul play in relation to Matilda Clover—on the 27th April I had an interview with Lucy Rose; that was the first and only occasion I had seen her, and the first occasion on which I heard anything about Clover—I went to see Lucy Rose in connection with the Donworth case; I was making inquiries generally among women in the district—I was specially engaged for that purpose in connection with this inquiry—I was told by her landlady, Mrs. Robertson, of 88, Lambeth Road, that she could give me some information that would bear upon the inquiry—she told me that on the 26th—the interview with Rose was on the 27th, and the report to Inspector Harvey on the 28th—until after the inquiry at Bow Street and the inquest I had never heard strychnine mentioned in connection with Clover—I first heard strychnine mentioned after Dr. Stevenson's analysis of the body.

JOHN BENNETT TUNBRIDGE (Inspector Criminal Investigation Department). On the 1st December, I believe, a letter reached the Criminal Investigation Department, Scotland Yard, from Dr. Broad bent—upon that an advertisement was inserted about December 3rd, with Dr. Broadbent's sanction, in the Daily Chronicle, and observation was kept on Dr. Broadbent's house for two days, to see whether any person called in answer to the advertisement; no person called; beyond that nothing was done—the letter remained in the department; no inquiry was made at 27,

Lambeth Road, and no communication was made to the officer in charge of the L division—no inquiry was made about the girl Clover, not at Lambeth Road, not about Lambeth Road; no inquiry was made; the advertisement was inserted—I had nothing to do with it; the letter was looked upon as a letter from an insane person; other letters had been received of a very similar character, and inquiry had been made, and no one had turned up in relation to them—27, Lambeth Road is within a quarter of an hour's walk of Scotland Yard—we get a great number of letters of a wild character—nothing was done beyond watching at Dr. Broadbent's residence; it was thought the man would call there and be caught, and it was thought it was an attempt to extort money without any ground such as that stated in the letter—if a man had been caught I presume inquiry would have been made—I first received instructions to inquire into the South Lambeth poisoning cases on 26th May; those were the cases of Clover, Donworth, Marsh, and Shrivell, and the attempt at extortion contained in the letter sent to Dr. Harper—in consequence, partly of a complaint by the prisoner that he was being watched, I went on 26th May to 103, Lambeth Palace Road, and saw him there—Miss Sabbatini was present—I referred to the letter of complaint received from Messrs. "Waters and Bryan, and talked over the matter; the prisoner alleged that in consequence of the police having watched him about it had interfered with his business—I then spoke to him about his business and his presence in this country—he said he first came to this country in October last, that was October, 1891, to consult an oculist; that he was a doctor of medicine, and he had a practice in America; that some time ago he had a serious illness, and that the night calls did not agree with him, and that in consequence he had given up his practice—he showed me this medicine case—I noticed this bottle labelled l-16th grain strychnine—I said, "What are these pills composed of?"—he said, "1-16th grain of strychnine and the sugar coating only"—I said, "At that rate this bottle contains quite a large quantity of strychnine, and it would be highly dangerous that they should fall into the hands of the public in any quantity"—he said it was not intended to sell them to the public directly, but only to chemists and surgeons who would dispense them in their proper quantities—he did not say if he had sold any, or if he had any customers—he said he had taken up the agency in the previous February only, and that he had been travelling through Canada with them until he arrived in this country in April—on the 26th May I had no knowledge, and no suggestion had been made to me, that Clover had died from strychnine; I had heard her body had been exhumed—I first heard that her death was caused by strychnine about two days before the date of Dr. Stevenson's report—on 1st June I visited Barnstaple, and saw Dr. Harper and his son—at that time I had received specimens of the prisoner's handwriting from McIntyre and Mr. Priest, the chemist—upon that I applied, on 3rd June, for a warrant against the prisoner for sending a blackmailing letter—I executed that warrant at 5.25 on 3rd June, in the Lambeth Road—I told him I had a warrant for his arrest, and I read it to him—he said, "You have got the wrong man; fire away!"—I showed him the envelope in which the letter had been sent to Dr. Harper, and said, "This is what you are accused of sending"—he looked at the writing on the envelope and

said, "That is not my writing"—I took the letter out from the envelope and said, "This is the letter"—he made no reply—I took him to Bow Street, where he was charged; he made no reply to the charge, but he afterwards said, "Can I send to Messrs. "Waters and Bryan, my solicitors?"—I said, "You can wire them; I will get you a form"—he said, "I write nothing; you do it for me"—I sent the telegram—he was searched; nothing was found on him relating to these matters—I afterwards went with Inspector Harvey and McIntyre, and Miss Sleaper pointed out the things she said belonged to the prisoner; among them were this sample case; a dark blue overcoat and a dark grey overcoat; a large portmanteau and tin box, and other things full of clothing; I took possession of everything in the room that belonged to him—he was wearing a silk hat when arrested—I found two other silk hats there, and a soft felt hat—I found no brown coat with a cape, no brown overcoat, no flat-topped felt hat, no light suits, no gold watch—he was wearing a silver or metal watch—I found, in the chest of drawers in the room, this envelope, with certain initials and dates upon it—I found, in the fob-pocket of a pair of trousers belonging to the prisoner, this paper. (This was the paper with the address of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, 118, Stamford Street)—I also found two letters from the Harvey Drug Company, of 26th February and 6th May; a certificate of baptism of Thomas Neill, father's name, William Cream, dated 29th June, 1850—the inquest on Clover began on 22nd June, and the verdict was given on 13th July—on the 18th July I re-charged the prisoner with the wilful murder of Matilda Clover—he said, "What, in the Clover case?"—I said, "Yes"—the charge was taken and read over to him, and he said, "All right"—later on he said, "Is anything going to be done in the other cases?"—I said, "Not at present, I believe"—he said, "You will be sure and let me know if anything is to be done"—I was present at the inquest, when a communication was made to the prisoner as to whether he wished to be examined—he was then under arrest for sending the threatening letter—the Coroner told him he was at liberty to give evidence if he chose, and ordered the officer to hand him the book to be sworn; he at first refused to be sworn, but later on he took the oath, and gave his name—what he said was taken down on the depositions. (MR. GEOGHEOAN submitted that the Coroner's depositions would be the best evidence of what the prisoner had said. The ATTORNEY-GENERAL did not press tie point as to what had been said)—as a matter of fact, the prisoner gave no evidence.

Cross-examined. The Coroner's inquest took place at Tooting, in the Vestry Hall; there was a large number of jurymen; I am not sure if it was twenty-three—Mr. Gill appeared for the Treasury, and examined the witnesses—the Coroner called formal witnesses, I believe—the wit nesses were subpœnaed by the Coroner's officer—I believe I was the last witness Mr. Gill called before the Coroner—I mentioned before the Coroner that when I showed the prisoner the envelope, which I told him he was accused of writing, he said, "That is not my writing"—at that time the prisoner was under remand at Bow Street on the charge of sending that letter—he could have been examined and cross-examined in the Coroner's court, and the twenty-three jurymen and the Coroner and the Treasury counsel could have asked him questions—after my evidence

Mr. Gill said that was all the evidence he had been able to get as to the inquiries that had been made, and then the Coroner proposed to call the prisoner who was sitting between two warders, as the last witness; Mr. Waters objected—there were excited words between Mr. Waters and the Coroner—the prisoner said he was acting under legal advice, and declined to give evidence, or words to that effect—the Coroner said he had the right to administer the oath to any one in his court, and exercising that right, he called on the prisoner—the police, in addition to the ordinary telegraph wires, have wires radiating from Scotland Yard to every part of London—there is a private wire to Kennington Lane and every other police-station—I never received the letter from Dr. Broadbent—I first saw it on the day after the prisoners, arrest—the postmark on the envelope is S.E.—on 30th November the police had information and full particulars of Ellen Donworth's death—knowing that she died within a quarter of an hour's walk of the Lambeth Road, a wire was not sent to Kennington Lane—fault, if fault there be, rests with Scotland Yard—I know of no jealousy between the police of Scotland Yard and the other police in London—I was present at the police-station when Masters and May were called in to identify the prisoner—we cannot catch hold of people and bring them in from the street; we have to invite them to come in to assist at an» identification—the prisoner was placed among about twenty—we were some time trying to get in people from the street as near the prisoners appearance as possible; we were perhaps a quarter of an hour—I took a statement from Masters and May on 11th June, and they described the man they had seen at Gatti's Music-hall—the twenty persons were nearly all persons from the Court—many had silk hats on—none of them had a squint—we cannot pick and choose the people—most of them had moustaches, not all had brown ones; they were of all kinds—in a quarter of an hour I got twenty men all generally answering the description of the prisoner; not all bald—they were dresssed similarly to him—the prisoner knew a little time before that he was to be brought up for identification that day; probably half an hour before—I think his solicitor was present at the identification; I should not like to swear he was—the gaoler was in the room—when Masters failed to identify the prisoner with his hat on she went out and May came in, and May identified him—May and Masters were not together in the room when the identification took place—the prisoner was placed with twenty persons in the charge-room—Masters and May, with other persons who came to identify him, were placed in a small room off the charge-room, and that was the only time they were together, and that was before either was brought out to see if they could identify—when Masters was brought in on the second occasion, and just before she identified the prisoner with his hat off, the gaoler had not touched him on the shoulder and said, "Come with me"—the gaoler was standing in front of the row of men—it was not from an afterthought of mine that the persons took their hats off; it was from a communication made to me—they were about breaking up when Masters was brought back—I am sure the gaoler was not near the prisoner when Masters came in, and I am perfectly certain he did not beckon to the prisoner or do anything of the kind; he might have done so afterwards, but not when Masters was coming into the room—I don't know the prison regulations

about shaving—all the bottles I found at the prisoner's lodgings are here—I found several bottles, empty and full; they have been in my possession ever since, and are here—I find there is "opium" on that—there are a very few pills indeed in it—I found no morphia—this bean a label, "500 pills opium, one grain, dose 1 or 2"; it is nearly empty—I found no bottle containing opium in a liquid shape—this bottle is one third full; it is marked "500 pills Cannabis Indiex extract 1/2 gr., poison; dose 1 to 3"—they have all been analysed by Dr. Stevenson.

Re-examined, This advertisement was inserted only once in the Daily Chronicle, and that was on Friday, December 4th, 1891. (This was read:"Personal—M. Malone, call or send this morning to arrange, as in your letter of 28th ult.—B."

FREDERICK SMITH JARVIS (Inspector). On 16th June this year I was instructed to go to America in reference to this case; I left on the 18th—in consequence of a communication from the police authorities in America I communicated with the witness McCulloch, and it was at my instance that he came to attend this inquiry.

LAURA SABBATINI . I live in Chapel Street, Berkhamsted—in November last I made the acquaintance of the prisoner—I remember his leaving for America early in January—prior to that date I became engaged to be married to him—I received this letter from him in reference to that engagement—it is dated 1st December—before leaving he made his will—he said it was a will that he could not revoke; he left it with me on his going to America—this (produced) is it; it gives all his property to me—he gave me his address, if I was to write to him, "Daniel Cream, Quebee, Canada"—I wrote to him there at Blanchard's Hotel, Quebee—I corresponded with him during his absence—I had a number of letters from him which I destroyed—that was my act; I used not to keep his letters.

Cross-examined. I am not in the habit of keeping letters—while I knew the prisoner he was in the habit of taking large quantities of opium—when we have been walking together he has gone into a chemist's to get opium for the relief of his head.

WALTER DE GREY BIRCH . I have been for twenty-seven years employed in the MSS. Department of the British Museum—I have had experience in the comparison of handwriting—I have frequently been consulted as an expert in these matters—I have examined the documents produced in this case as admittedly in the handwriting of the prisoner—comparing them with the letter to Dr. Broadbent and the envelope, I judge them to be in the handwriting of the same person. (The documents with photographs of the same, were put in and handed to the Jury.)

THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL proposed to give evidence of the death of three other women by strychnine, and the attempted administration of poison to a fourth, and to connect these acts with the prisoner; to prove his possession of strychnine; to show that strychnine was the cause of death: as evidence of identity; of motive; to negative suggestion of mistake or accident, and to show that the prisoner understood the nature and quality of his act. He cited the following authorities:—R. v. Geering, 18 L. J. (M.C.) 215; R. v. Winslow, 8 Cox C. C., 347; R. v. Garner, 4 F. and F., 346; R. v. Cotton, 12 Cox C. C. 400; R. v. Roden, 12 Cox C.C., 630; R. v. Hesson, 14 Cox C.C., 40; R. v. Higgins and Flannagan, 15 Cox C. C., 403. MR. WARBURTON submitted that the proposed evidence was inadmissible, because it was not relevant to the issue, and because it formed the subject-matter of other indictments

against the prisoner. Whilst accepting the general propositions as laid down by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL, he contended:—That the facts in the present case were altogether different from those in the cases cited, in all of which cases the accused had lived under the same roof with the deceased persons, and had admittedly prepared the food by which they were poisoned; that strychnine was a common drug, to which all doctors and chemists had access, so that the possession of strychnine by the prisoner was not an exceptional circumstance; that evidence such as that proposed could only be used to negative an obvious defence of accident, such defence not being possible in the present case, and that it was equivalent to trying the prisoner on several indictments at the same time, and could only have the effect of prejudicing the case against him. THE ATTORNEY-GENERAL having replied, MR. JUSTICE HAWKINS was of opinion that he must admit the evidence; what the weight of it might he was another question. As to its admissibility, he entertained no doubt, and therefore he should not reserve a case.

LOUISA HARRIS . I am known by the name of Loo Harvey—I am living now in Stamford Street—in October last year I was living at 44, Townshend Road, St. John's Wood, with a young man Charles Harvey, under whose name I passed—between 20th and 24th October, 1891, I was at the Alhambra one night; I fix the date because Harvey, who had been an omnibus man, left that employment on 13th October—the prisoner spoke to me at the Alhambra that night—after leaving the Alhambra I met him outside St. James's Hall, in Regent Street—he came up and touched my shoulder, and asked me to go with him, and we went to an hotel in Berwick Street, where we passed the night—he told me he was a doctor at St. Thomas's Hospital, and came from America—he said he-was going back again, and would I accompany him back—he asked my name, and I told him it was Loo Harvey, and he asked my address, and I said 55, Townshend Road—I made a mistake in the number; the proper number was 44; I did it quite by mistake—I had lived just a week at St. John's Wood—the prisoner was dressed in a flat topped hard felt hat, and a black overcoat—he had an old-fashioned gold watch, and spectacles—he had no beard; he had a moustache—the top of his head was bald—he was cross-eyed—on the next morning he said I had a few spots on my forehead, and he said he would bring me some pills to take them away—we parted, and he told me to meet him, at half-past seven, on the Embankment near Charing Cross station, the same evening, to give me the medicine, and afterwards take me to a music-hall—he asked me where I would like to go; I told him the Oxford Music-hall—I told him I was a servant; that was not correct—I told Harvey about the pills or medicine—accompanied by Harvey I went to the Embankment, near the Charing Cross station—I saw the prisoner waiting there for me—I left Harvey in Northumberland Avenue; he followed me, on the opposite side of the way, to the place of meeting—I said to the prisoner, "Good evening; I am late"—I asked him if he had brought the pills; he said, "Yes"—he said he had had them made in the Westminster Bridge Road—he invited me to have a glass of wine; I asked if I should take the pills first; he said no, not till afterwards—we went to the Northumberland public-house, which is close to the Embankment, and had a glass of wine—in the public-house he bought me some roses from a woman who came in—we then came out and walked back towards the Embankment—the prisoner then

said he could not go with me to the music-hall that night, because he had an appointment at St. Thomas's Hospital at nine o'clock, and he should be kept there till half-past ten—he told me I was to get in a cab and go myself, and meet him at eleven outside, and we would go and spend the night at the same hotel—he gave me some figs, and told me to eat them after I had taken the pills—it was a quarter or ten minutes to eight when I reached the Embankment, and then we went to the Northumberland Arms and walked back to the Embankment—the prisoner took two pills out of his waistcoat pocket, they were wrapped up in a piece of tissue paper; they were long and rather narrower at one end than at the other—in shape and size they were something like this capsule (a 4 gr. capsule), but they might have been a little longer—they were white, as near as I can tell; it was rather dark—they were a light colour—he gave them to me and said I was to take them; he said I was to put them in my mouth then and there, one by one, and not "bite them, but swallow them—he put them into my right hand, I pretended to take them, putting my hand to my mouth and pretending to swallow them, but I passed them into my left hand—the prisoner asked me to show him my right hand—I showed it to him—then he asked me to show him my left hand in which I had the pills—I threw the pills away behind me, and showed him my left hand—he questioned me no further, but gave me 5s. then for my seat in the music-hall, and wanted to put me into a cab—I said, "No, I can get a cab myself"—he went away towards St. Thomas's Hospital, Westminster Bridge—as he was leaving he said, "Meet me at eleven"—I met Harvey at the corner and made a statement to him, and then I went to the Oxford Music-hall—at eleven o'clock I went outside to look for the prisoner; I waited till half-past eleven; he did not come—within a month afterwards I saw the prisoner standing at the corner of Piccadilly and Regent Street—I went up and spoke to him; he did not appear to recognise me—I did not stay with him long; he told me he would meet me at eleven that night outside the St. James's, Piccadilly—before making that appointment he asked me to have a glass of wine, and we went to a publichouse in Air Street—as we were leaving the public-house I said, "Don't you know me?" as he did not seem to recognise me—he said, "No; who are you?"—I said, "You promised to meet me outside the Oxford Music-hall"—he said, "I don't remember; who are you?"—I said, "Loo Harvey"; and upon that, he did not speak, again, but walked sharp away—that was the last occasion I ever spoke to him; I saw him again in the Strand about a fortnight or three weeks after going to Air Street with him—he was then walking with a young lady—I don't think he saw me then—my attention was called to the report in the paper of the inquest where my name was mentioned; and I then communicated with the Magistrate, Sir John Bridge, and Inspector Tunbridge came to see me, and took a statement from me—I was afterwards examined at the inquest and at Bow Street—the prisoner was not dressed in the same way when I met him on the second occasion as he had been on the first.

Cross-examined. When I met him on the first occasion it was at night, and on the second occasion it was broad daylight in Regent Street—I am not in the habit of going to the Alhambra—I do not go to a music-hall in the evening as a rule—I have not been to the Alhambra within the last month; it was an exceptional thing for me to go there—I did not

say before the Magistrate that it was on 20th October I first met the prisoner; it was between 20th and 24th—I and Harvey have been living together sometimes since this matter, not all the time—I have talked to him about it and he has shown me dates in a book—I did not, before I saw the dates in the book, say I thought it was 20th—when I met him in Regent Street I brought back to his recollection that I was alive; I said, "I was the woman you went with to such and such an hotel"—I told him that plainly and he did not believe it; he did not look at me, he turned and walked away—we had had a glass of wine—it was between four and five—I could not see the capsules plainly—I was standing under a lamp in the street; I could see they were light ones—I had some spots on my forehead.

CHARLES HARVEY . I am by trade a painter—I formerly lived at Brighton—in October, 1891, I and Loo Harvey lived together at 44, Townshend Road—in that month Loo Harvey made a statement to me one morning—she had passed the night before away from 44, Townshend Road—it was somewhere about 20th or 21st October; I could not say for certain—I fix the date because it was a week after I had left work on the omnibuses, and I left about 13th or 14th—I produced my book before—the last entry in my book is on 16th October, so that it was within a week of that—I left the 'bus work on 16th October—in consequence of the statement Leo Harvey made to me in the morning, I accompanied her the same evening to the Embankment—when we got near there I walked down one way, and she up the other; we walked in opposite directions on the same side—I saw her meet someone on the Embankment—I had then turned back again, and when she met him I was within a few yards of them—I watched them; I saw them go to the Northumberland Arms—I followed them there, and saw them go in—I did not address either of them—I saw them come out and walk towards the Embankment—I followed, and when they stopped on the Embankment I was on the opposite side, the width of the Embankment from them—I have since seen the man at Tooting and at Bow Street; he is the prisoner—they stood talking for a few minutes, and then I saw him hand Loo Harvey something—I was not near enough to see what it was—soon after he left her, and walked towards the Westminster Bridge Road, and then she joined me—she made a statement as to what had taken place between her and the prisoner—she parted company from me at Charing Cross.

CHARLOTTE VOGT . I live at 118, Stamford Street—on 22nd March this year Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell came to lodge at my house, occupying two rooms on the second floor—they let themselves in and out, and there was a bell to the floor on which their rooms were—about four p.m. on Monday, 11th April, I saw Marsh, and about half-past six I heard Shrivell speaking—I went to bed that night about eleven o'clock, and the house was all quiet then—at half-past two a.m. I was awakened by a screaming outside my door—in the passage I saw Marsh, who was screaming, and appeared to be in great agony—I sent my husband for a cab and a policeman—I then heard Shrivell screaming upstairs for "Alice"—going up to her room, I saw her on the floor at the foot of the sofa, leaning against the sofa—she appeared to be in great agony—I spoke to her, and she answered me—then I heard Marsh screaming again below—I went down to her, and found her lying on her stomach in the passage, and her body twitching

as if in great pain—that continued to come on and pass off and then come on again—I spoke to her, and when the twitching was not in operation she spoke to me; she was quite conscious—I asked her a question, and she answered it—my husband came back with a cab and with the police, and the girls were carried after a little while and put into the cab and taken to the hospital—I first tried to give them an emetic; some mustard and water—they were carried out of the house, and I never saw them alive again.

GEORGE CUMLEY (211 Z). On the night of 11th April, 1892, my beat included the west aide of Stamford Street—I should go off duty at six next morning, on the 12th—118, Stamford Street is on the west side, on which I was—I was passing along that west side on the early morning of the 12th, about a quarter to two, and I was about a dozen yards from No. 118, walking towards it, when I saw a man come out of No. 118; he was let out by a young woman—I saw her then, and I saw her afterwards when I helped to take her to the hospital; it was Emma Shrivell—I would have described the man as about 5 ft. 9 in. to 10 in., dressed tin a dark overcoat, 45 to 50 years of age, with a high silk hat—as he turned by the street door I saw, by the reflection of the street lamp, that' he had glasses; he had a moustache, no whiskers—the lamp was on the same side, and opposite the door of 118—the street is about as wide as this Court—he walked away rather smartly, but it was a cold morning—later that same morning I was called in to 118, Stamford Street—about 2.30 I saw a four-wheel cab drive up to 118—I saw Eversfield carry Shrivell into the cab; Eversfield spoke to me—I went into the passage—I found Marsh lying over the seat of a chair with her face downwards—I carried her into the same cab that Shrivell was in—Eversfield went with the two girls to the hospital in the cab, and I rode outside—we both put questions to Shrivell, who made a statement—Marsh died on the way to the hospital—I made a report as to the man being let out—I was afterwards instructed to make a written report—I made it on the 14th—I knew nothing then of Neills existence—after this occurrence I was on the look out for a man, such as I had seen coming out of 118, from the 16th April—on 12th May I was standing alone in the Westminster Bridge Road, outside the Canterbury, between seven and eight p.m.—I saw the prisoner walk up and down four times—I saw how much like he was to the man I saw at 118, Stamford Street—I did not then know of Dr. Neill, or of any suspicion attaching to him or anybody in connection with Matilda Clover—I made a statement of it to Sergeant Ward—Ward made a report—I have no doubt it was the prisoner I saw in the Westminster Bridge Road—the man who came out of 118, Stamford Street was like the prisoner in stature, height, and general appearance—he had glasses—he was not dressed the same; he was walking towards the Lambeth Palace Road, which is about a mile from Stamford Street, through York Road, but there are many intermediate places he might have been walking to—he was dressed in a short coat in the Westminster Bridge Road—in Stamford Street in a dark overcoat.

Cross-examined. I saw the man go from Stamford Street towards the Waterloo Road—I went down a turning—I lost sight of him—he might have gone down the Waterloo Road or along York Road, and down the Westminster Bridge Road, or the Lambeth Palace Road—I have my report

of the 14th—it is not unusual to see persons leave Stamford Street in the early morning—when I was outside the Canterbury the performance was going on—women were going in—the man was looking at the women sharply—that excited my suspicions—Ward sent to me after that—I had seen Neill that night more than once—Ward was at the corner of the York Road and the Westminster Bridge Road—that is between 200 and 300 yards from the Canterbury—Ward and I had a conversation—that was about 11.30.

Re-examined. This is the report I made—I first saw Neill between seven and eight—I did not see Ward then—I spoke to the man outside the Canterbury, who calls the cabs, about the prisoner—I saw the prisoner that time for about half an hour—then he went away—I again saw him about 11.30 at the corner of the Lambeth Palace Road and the Westminster Bridge Road—I saw Ward then—Neill was standing at the corner of a public-house on the other side of the road—in company with Ward I followed the prisoner home with a woman to 24, Elliotts Row, St. George's Road—we waited till they came out—they separated at the corner of the Lambeth Palace Road—Neill went to 103, Lambeth Palace Road—Ward and I followed and saw them go in.

By MR. GEOGHEGAN. I do not know the woman's name, nor where «he walks—I have not seen her lately—I have seen her once since.

WILLIAM EVERSFIELD (194 Z). On 12th April, about 2.30 a.m., I went to 118, Stamford Street—I saw Marsh and Shrivell as described——Shrivell made a statement at the hospital—Marsh died in the cab—Shrivell was up in the front room on the second floor, lying on a sofa on her face—I gave her an emetic and then took her to St. Thomas's Hospital—Marsh was lying on her face in the passage—Marsh never spoke—they seemed to go into convulsions from time to time—Shrivell was sensible in the interval, Marsh was not. (MR. GEOGHEGAN objected to Shrivell's statement, and it was not read.)

DR. CUTHBERT WYMAN . I am a medical practitioner—I was house surgeon at St. Thomas's Hospital,—on 12th April about three a.m. I was at the hospital when Marsh and Shrivell were brought in—Marsh was dead, Shrivell was suffering from tetanic convulsions—she showed all the symptoms of strychnine poisoning—I gave her an emetic, and afterwards chloroform—she died about eight the following morning—I made a postmortem examination afterwards—I found no organic disease to account for death—the stomach and viscera of each girl were sealed up in a jar and handed by me to George Hackett, to be conveyed to Dr. Stevenson.

GEORGE HACKETT . I am post-mortem assistant at St. Thomas's Hospital—on 16th April Dr. Wyman gave me three sealed jars to take to Dr. Stevenson—I handed them to Dr. Stevenson in the same condition as I received them.

Thursday, October 20th.

DR. THOMAS STEVENSON (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). On the 16th April, 1892, I received from the witness Hackett three jars, properly secured and with unbroken seals—under instructions from the Home Office I carefully examined and analysed the contents—one jar was labelled "Alice Marsh," that contained a stomach, kidney and liver—I proceeded in the ordinary way to test whether there was strychnine; firstly, by the colour test; secondly, the alkaloid test; and thirdly, by taste—I also tried the same tests in the case of Matilda

Clover, and in all those tests I got the characteristic taste of strychnine—I adopted the best known modes of testing for strychnine; I took extraordinary precautions in the Clover case, not expecting to find strychnine so long after death—my life has been spent in these studies and pursuits—I am prepared to give the weights and quantities—in the contents of No. 1 jar I found 6.39 grains of strychnine—there was nothing to suggest a cause of death except the strychnine—I arrived at the conclusion that death was so caused; I had no doubt after hearing the symptoms—I should like to add that I found a further portion in the liver and kidney, making in the whole 6 3/4 grains—in the vomit of Emma Shrivell I found 1.46, that would be nearly 1 1/2 grains; in the stomach and its contents 1.6 grain, and 2 in a small portion of the liver and one kidney; that quantity would represent 3¼ grains in the whole, much more than a fatal dose—there was nothing in that case to account for death except the presence of the strychnine—after hearing the symptoms I came to the conclusion that that was the cause of death.

Cross-examined. I was in Court and heard the evidence of McCulloch.—ulphate of zinc is crystallised; its crystals are clear and glassy, while those of strychnine are opaque—to an ordinary observer they would look, very much alike, but a very slight observation would distinguish the difference; one is a clear glassy crystal, the other is white and opaque. (MR. GEOGHEGAN handed to his Lordship a question in writing which he proposed to put to Dr. Stevenson; it was handed to him, and also to the JURY, but was not publicly put)—I do not know the origin of the theory alluded to here; it is a matter of common medical knowledge in this country; it is supposed to have come from America—in the case of Marsh and Shrivell I received the articles on the 16th; that was the day before Easter Sunday, within about four days of the death—I commenced my post-mortem examination within three days of the death—I got a very visible quantity of strychnine from the two bodies—there was a great difference between the post-mortem in those cases and in Clover's, both in colour and quantity, obtained from the bodies—in the case of Clover I got in the portion extracted from the liver the characteristic taste of strychnine, which is extreme bitterness—other things besides strychnine have extreme bitterness, but I do not think I could mistake the bitterness of anything except brucine for strychnine—science, like law, sometimes makes mistakes.

Re-examined. In strychnine there is a distinct peculiar metallic bitter, which is a well-known and distinctive character.

ALFRED WARD (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). In searching the room of Shrivell and Marsh I found the four pieces of paper which, have been produced; these are they; they contain names and addresses—I have had from Constables Cumley and Eversfield a description of the man said to have left 118, Stamford Street on the morning of 12th April; that description was given me on the day following the event—at that time I had no suspicion, nor had my attention been drawn in any way to the prisoner—on the night of 12th May I was in Westminster Bridge Road, and my attention was drawn to a man, whom I saw there walking up and down, by his similarity to the description given to me by Cumley and Eversfield—I kept watch on him; he was watching women as they passed him by, very closely, especially those having the appearance of prostitutes—I was alone at the time my attention was first attracted to him—I sent for Cumley, and he made a statement to me and I to him,

referring to the man, and we continued to keep watch upon him—I saw him go away with a woman to a particular place—I waited till he came out, and walked in the direction of Westminster Bridge Road, leading to Lambeth Palace Road—after that date I was aware that the police kept observation of the prisoner; I was in charge of the observation—up to 12th May I had never directly or indirectly any knowledge of who the prisoner was.

By MR. GEOGHEGAN. The prostitute whom he went away with has been seen alive up to the Wednesday following—there is no suggestion that any dose was given to her.

MARGARET ARMSTEAD . I am the wife of William Armstead, a photographer, of 129, Westminster Bridge Road—Haynes came to lodge at our house in March, about Easter, 1892—I think I made the prisoner's acquaintance through his coming to be photographed—he there made Haynes's acquaintance, and they became intimate—in May, when the prisoner was at our house, I became aware that some observation was being kept on our place, and in the presence of the prisoner I called my husband's and the prisoner's attention to the fact—the prisoner said nothing then, but I went to have some refreshment with him, and at the place we went to he pointed to a person, and asked me if he was one of the men who was matching the house, looking through the bar at the end of the room—I said I could not see from the distance at which we were sitting—the prisoner said on that occasion, "What a dreadful murder it was in Stamford Street!"—I said, "Yes, it was terrible; they ought to be hanged, whoever did such a thing"—I asked him if he knew the girls, that was Marsh and Shrivell—he said knew them well, they used to solicit up at the bridge of an evening—I cannot remember seeing the prisoner in a square-topped hat—at the time of this conversation the Marsh and Shrivell cases were a good deal talked about.

Cross-examined. It was the common talk of the neighbourhood—it was through us that the prisoner first became acquainted with Haynes—I might have told the prisoner Haynes was an ex-detective, or else my husband may have done so, I don't know—I believe Haynes said something about paving been a detective—I believe my husband told the prisoner that Haynes had been a detective or engaged in detective work—I don't know whether the bridge he mentioned would be Westminster or Waterloo.

JOHN M. JOHNSON . I am assistant to Dr. Lowe, the medical officer of the South Lambeth Medical Institute—on the evening of 13th October I was sent for to 8, Duke Street, where I saw a woman described as Ellen Donworth, a woman of the unfortunate class—she was suffering from tetanic convulsions, such as would be caused by the administration of strychnine; she had all the symptoms of it—I considered her very bad; she was in a dying state—I ordered her to be taken to the hospital—I heard afterwards that she died on the way.

THOMAS HERBERT KELLOCH . I was house physician in October last at St. Thomas's Hospital—on the night of 13th October the body of a woman called Ellen Donworth was brought to the hospital; she was dead when I saw her at the hospital—there was nothing external to account for death—I afterwards post-mortem examined her—I found nothing at all to account for death then—I afterwards analysed the contents of the stomach, and found there the presence of strychnine and morphia—I also made a quantitative analysis of part of the contents of the

stomach, and I was able to extract an appreciable quantity of strychnine—I estimated it was a quarter of a grain in the contents of the stomach alone—I formed the opinion that the cause of death was poisoning by strychnine—I have no doubt at all about that.

JOHN P. HAYNES (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). On one occasion I was in the prisoner's room at 103, Lambeth Palace Road, when he showed me an ordinary memorandum-book, a quarter inch thick and the size of a sheet of note-paper—I had it in my hand, but I cannot describe it—he called my attention to some initials and dates—I cannot remember where the note-book was taken from—the prisoner said something to me about it—I asked him the meaning of the initials—he told me they were the initials of the girls poisoned by Dr. Harper, and the dates were those of their respective deaths—I never spoke to Tunbridge or anyone about the fact—I called no attention to it.

LAURA SABBATINI (Re-called by MR. GILL). The prisoner visited me at Berkhamsted on three occasions—upon the first occasion, 8th April, I think, I introduced him to my mother—he went back on 9th; he came again on the Wednesday after Easter Sunday, the occasion lie went to church with me—he stayed one night, I think—the third time he came on Saturday, 80th April, and stayed until Tuesday, 3rd May—on the occasion of that third visit he asked me to write some letters for him—I asked him why he wanted me to write them—he did not give me any reason; I do not recollect exactly what he said—I don't think I asked him more than once—he dictated some letters to me—this (marked F) is one (Read: "London. May 2d, 1892.—To Coroner Wyatt, St. Thomas's Hospital, London. Dear Sir,—Will you please give the enclosed letter to the foreman of the coroner's jury on the inquest on Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, and oblige yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray.")—I wrote the address on the envelope—I wrote this letter to the foreman of the coroner's jury: "London, May 2, 1892. To the Foreman of the Coroner's Jury in the cases of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell. Dear Sir,—I beg to inform you that one of my operators has positive proof that Walter Harper, a medical student of St. Thomas's Hospital, and a son of Dr. Harper, of Bear Street, Barnstaple, is responsible for the deaths of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, he having poisoned those girls with strychnine. That proof you can have on paying my bill for services to George Clarke, detective, 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, to whom I will give the proof on his paying my bill.—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray."—This other letter I also wrote at the prisoner's dictation, and the envelope also: "To George Clarke, Esq., Detective, 20, Cockspur Street, Charing Cross, London, May 4th, 1892. Dear Sir,—If Mr. Wyatt, Coroner, calls on you in regard to the murders of Alice Marsh and Emma Shrivell, you can tell him that you will give proof positive to him that W. H. Harper, student, of St. Thomas's Hospital, and son of Dr. Harper, Bear Street, Barnstaple, poisoned those girls with strychnine, provided the Coroner will pay you well for your services. Proof of this will be forthcoming. I will write you again in a few days.—Yours respectfully, Wm. H. Murray."—The prisoner took these letters, and envelopes away with him—when I wrote the letters I asked him if he had that evidence—he said a friend of his had it, a detective; he did not mention his name—I asked him why I should sign the name of Murray

—he said that was the name of his friend—when I asked him what he knew of this, or of Murray, he said he would tell me all about it some day—he went back to town that night.

MR. BIRCH (Re-called by MR. GILL). Among the letters in the admitted handwriting of the prisoner was the one addressed to Dr. Harper, of Barnstaple—this is it—it is, in my opinion, in the handwriting of the prisoner, and the envelope enclosing it—I also compared the memorandum, with initials and figures, produced by Inspector Tunbridge, with the handwriting of the prisoner, and in my opinion it is undoubtedly the same handwriting; also the letter and envelope to Coroner Wyatt, relating to Donworth.

INSPECTOR TUNBRIDGE (Re-called by the ATTORNEY-GENERAL). I searched the prisoner's rooms on the day of his arrest; I took away everything belonging to him as told me by Miss Sleaper—it would be my duty carefully to examine the things and see whether they threw any light on the matter—I have all the things here, with the exception of certain things which I returned to the prisoner's solicitor—I see by my list I returned five books, one entitled "A Handbook of Therapeutics"—they were printed books, medical works—there was one pocket-book, perfectly new, with no entries at all in it—if there had been any note-book with any entries in it it would have been my duty to examine it, and I should have retained it—there was no such book.

GEORGE RENDALL . I am the secretary of St. Thomas's Hospital—in October, 1891, and from that time down to April and May, 1892, there was no person of the name of Dr. Neill or Cream connected with the hospital, so far as I know—it is usual for any gentlemen attending the hospital to register their name with me—there was no such person registered with me—I do not know the prisoner as in any way connected with the hospital; nor did I ever see him to my knowledge until I saw him here—I know the doctors and surgeons connected with the hospital and their names—there was a doctor of the name of Cream some years ago, but he has not registered with me—so far as I know there was no person of that name connected with the hospital between October, 1891, and June, 1892—the usual course would be to register the name with me—it sometimes occurs that old students may be attending without registering with me.

INSPECTOR HARVEY (Re-called). The verdict of the Coroner's Jury in the case of Marsh and Shrivell was on 5th May, 1892—that inquest began on 13th April—the inquest on Matilda Clover began on 22nd June and ended on 13th July—in the Donworth case the inquest began, I believe, on 15th October, and ended on 22nd October.

Cross-examined. In the case of Marsh and Shrivell it was thought at first that death was from fish poisoning—there were two hearings—it was at the first hearing that strychnine was mentioned as the probable cause of death.

MR. BIRCH (Re-called). This letter to Mr. Frederick Smith is in the prisoner's handwriting, and the envelope also.

GUILTY— DEATH

The COURT and the GRAND JURY highly commended the conduct of Inspectors Tunbridge, Harvey, McIntyre, Sergeant Ward, and Constables Cumley and Eversfield.

Before Mr. Common Serjeant.