Old Bailey Proceedings Online (www.oldbaileyonline.org, version 8.0, 05 December 2021), December 1908, trial of McDONALD James, otherwise John Murphy, otherwise Jack Esmond Murphy (21, engineer) (t19081208-43).

MURPHY MCDONALD, Killing > murder, 8th December 1908.

McDONALD James, otherwise John Murphy, otherwise Jack Esmond Murphy (21, engineer) ; wilful murder of Fredrich George Wilhelm Maria Julius Schlitte; feloniously wounding George Thomas Carter with intent to do him grievous bodily harm; feloniously wounding Albert Allan Howe, a Metropolitan police-constable, with intent to resist the lawful apprehension of himself; inquisition for the murder of Fredrich George Wilhelm Maria Julius Schlitte.

Mr. Bodkin and Mr. Graham-Campbell prosecuted; Mr. George Jones and Mr. Buddle Atkinson defended.

MARIAN GRAIMES , 145, Shirland Road, Paddington. Since October 9, 1908, prisoner lodged at my house in the name of "Mr. Murphy" occupying the front-basement parlour at a rent of 6s. week; he had no meals at my house. He seemed respectable, but very much worried about money matters. I do not think he had any employment. A week after he came he said he had an engagement in an electric motor company. On Thursday night, November 5, he did not sleep in my house. On Friday, November 6, he came in between six and seven p.m., went out, and I saw him again after 10, when he said he would take his money to-morrow and would pay me the rent due that day. I found paper target produced in his room.

Cross-examined. I have been told he had a sister living near. I do not know how she assisted him.

WILLIAM KING , partner in King's Rifle and Revolver Range, 27, Oxenden Street, Haymarket. People practise shooting at my range; I also sell revolvers. I have known prisoner as practising revolver shooting there for two or three months. We supply the revolver and charge 8d. for six shots. People shoot also in competition. Paper target produced is one of our targets. On November 6 prisoner came about two p.m. and asked to see some revolvers, wishing to purchase a Colt. I showed him two or three and he bought revolver produced, which is a Webley Fosbery, 4 in. calibre. 455, ordinary service revolver with six chambers, rifled. Prisoner tried it at the range having about 24 shots at targets like that produced. He made fair practice, was satisfied with the revolver, purchased it at £2 15s., and paid 1s. 6d. for 25 cartridges. In the revolver produced there are five live and one exploded cartridges similar to those sold; other cartridges produced are the remainder of those sold. I told the prisoner in order to purchase a revolver it was necessary to have a license or police permit. He asked me to go or send for one, and my father went for one. Prisoner wrote his address on card produced, "J.E.

Murphy, 145. Shirland Road, Maida Vale," which my father took. He came back and said they required Christian names, and prisoner wrote again on the card, "Jack Esmond Murphy." My father eventually brought the license to prisoner, who paid in all £3 6s. 6d. I believe prisoner also paid 1s. 4d. for the practice shots. This revolver cocks itself for the next shot when fired at arm's length; it is a powerful revolver of ordinary army size and calibre.

Cross-examined. This revolver is now in working order. Prisoner may have visited my range for six months. He very seldom came with anyone else. He was quite a good shot, and was very careful with the weapon. I showed him a 6-in. revolver. He preferred the shorter 4-in. weapon.

Detective CHARLES LOADER , C Division. I produce plan and section of the ground floor of 84, Shaftesbury Avenue, which I made on November 9. The shop is flush with the pavement on the right hand side going north, and is entered by a glass door on the right side, with lettering on the glass. Inside there are two safes opposite. On the right a counter 3 ft. 1/2 in. from the ground with a brass network grille 3 ft. high extending from the framework of the window to a partition 3 ft. wide, in which there is a door 1 ft. 9 in. wide opening outwards. There are two openings in the grille. Behind and under the counter there are three or four drawers. The shop is 12 ft. by 12 ft. 2 1/2 in.—about 12 ft. square. In the front window were 13 bowls containing money. It is difficult to see the interior of the shop from the window. On the edge of the small door at 4 ft. 9 1/2 in. from the floor I found the mark of a bullet in a somewhat slanting direction. In the window 6 ft. 6 in up, was a hole as if a missile had been thrown through it over the screen.

Cross-examined. There is a sliding screen in front of the window. You cannot see through it from the street.

GEORGE HENRY CALDERWOOD , manager and confidential clerk to Cartmell and Schlitte, bankers and foreign money exchangers, 84, Shaftesbury Avenue. The firm have had these premises 15 years. On November 7, Mr. Cartmell was away for a holiday. Mr. Schlitte was about 47 years of age. He always wore spectacles, and was a broad-shouldered man about 6 ft. 2 in. high. He was regularly at the office from 9 a.m. till 6.30 p.m.; Saturdays, till 3.30 p.m. In the safes, the till, and bowls in the window, there was usually about £1, 500 to £2, 000 in money and securities. The bowls in the window contained German, Austrian, French, and other foreign gold and silver coins; foreign notes were spread out in the window. The books were kept on the counter behind the grille. On the counter there were paper bags, a cheque perforator, weights and scales for weighing letters and money. The small door was usually fastened by a small brass bolt, but it was frequently simply closed. held to by a spring nut. On the morning of November 7, the shop was in its usual state. Mr. Schlitte arrived about 9 a.m. I was engaged with him till about 11.10 on business, and then went out leaving Mr. Schlitte engaged with a customer. He would probably use the books. I returned at about 12.15. There was a crowd outside

and on entering the shop I found Mr. Schlitte sitting on a chair on the public side of the counter in a very serious state with his hands bleeding. He was taken away in a cab, and I remained in the shop. The small door was open, the place disordered, the paper bags scattered on the floor, the perforator moved and stained with blood, blood upon the door. Mr. Schlitte's spectacles were on the floor. Several of the brass weights were missing, and there was a hole through the window. Spots of blood were all over the floor to within a yard of the window. Under the counter beneath the till was a revolver, the till being the second drawer from the small door. There was an arrangement that in case of any attack or threat we should throw a weight through the window to attract attention. The shop was very dimly lighted from the street. There is no record in the books of any dealing with the prisoner. Nothing was taken from the shop.

Cross-examined. There would be much more than £20 in the bowls—all foreign money. The till is a heavy drawer, which ordinarily would be closed, but unlocked. I found the spectacles opposite the till about a yard away, nearer the till than the window. I had never seen the prisoner. I should probably have seen him if he had been loitering continually about the shop.

Re-examined. On November 7 I think there would be £150 to £200 in the till in notes and coin—probably £30 or £40 in gold. The revolver was level with the edge of the counter underneath the third drawer from the small door. The blood was scattered all over the floor between the tin✗ and the drawer.

BENJAMIN ALISON GOODKIN , manager of the Earl's Court Roller Skating Rink. On November 7, between 11.15 and 11.45, I was in search of an address and went into 84, Shaftesbury Avenue to refer to a directory which a gentleman behind the counter handed me over the grille. Having found what I wanted, I handed the directory back in the same way, left the shop, and turned to the left towards Piccadilly. As I left I was conscious of someone entering after me. After passing two or three shops I found I was going in the wrong direction and turned back, when I heard a crash, owing to the breaking of the window in No. 84; a piece of metal hit the pavement, and, after guarding my face from the flying glass, I looked in at the door, heard a scuffle, entered and saw the gentleman who had lent me the directory struggling on the floor with a shorter man. Thinking it was a fist fight, I went forward with the intention of helping the gentleman, when I found that the shorter man held a knife, with which he was striking at the other. I went out and called out "Police!" went 10 or 15 yards in one direction, and then turned back, when a man ran past me towards Piccadilly, a crowd shouting, "Stop him!" I entered the shop and found the deceased bleeding from the mouth and hands. I helped him to a chair and assisted in taking him in a cab to the hospital.

Cross-examined. I was seven or eight minutes in the shop. I had never seen the prisoner before. I did not see who it was went in after me.

OSCAR MILLER , Sandringham Buildings, Charing Cross Road, in the employ of a tailor at 86, Shaftesbury Avenue, next door to Cartmell and Schlitte. On November 7, at 11.35 or 11.40 a.m., I heard a shout of "Murder!" went out and saw something thrown through the window of No. 84. I afterwards saw a man come out holding a knife the handle outwards, and run towards Piccadilly. A carman named Carter tried to stop him and was hurt by the knife. Police-constable Howe then tried to stop the man and was wounded and knocked down by him. I heard no sound of a pistol shot.

Cross-examined. I have never seen the prisoner before. If he had been in the habit of loitering about Shaftesbury Avenue I should probably have seen and recognised him.

MARTIN LISTER , 6, Rufford Street, King's Cross, cab driver. On Saturday, November 7, I was with my cab on the rank in Shaftesbury Avenue, 14 or 15 yards from No. 84, standing by the horse's head, when I heard the sound of broken glass from the window of No. 84. I walked in that direction, saw prisoner come out of the shop with an open knife in his hand and run towards Piccadilly, holding his coat up. Carter tried to stop the prisoner, who stabbed him in the left hand and continued running. Police-constable Howe, from the point of Wardour Street ran towards him. I cried out, "Mind the knife." I saw the prisoner and the constable close, when the prisoner stabbed him and continued his flight. I ran on, when another man closed with the prisoner; they both fell, I threw myself on to the prisoner until the wounded constable recovered and arrested him. I assisted in taking prisoner to the station, never leaving hold of him until we got to the station. On the way Howe appeared faint, and I beckoned to Police-constable Gower, who relieved him. Prisoner repeatedly said, "Don't hurt me, I will go quiet."

GEORGE WALTER ARMITT , 32, Queen's Grove Road, Caledonian Road, motor cab driver. On November 7 I was driving along Shaftesbury Avenue with a fare when I noticed prisoner run out of No. 84. Carter stopped him and was stabbed. Police-constable Howe ran forward from the obelisk to arrest him and prisoner stabbed him in the shoulder as hard as he could. The knife then fell from the prisoner's hand, and I with three or four others encircled prisoner, who was taken off. I returned to the shop, asked my fare to get out, and took Mr. Schlitte to the hospital in my cab.

GEORGE THOMAS CARTER , 73, Rochester Place, Kentish Town, carman. On November 7 I was driving a van along Shaftesbury Avenue towards Piccadilly, when I heard a crash from broken glass at No. 84 about 18 yards off on my left. I thought it was a gas explosion. I looked back and heard cries of "Police!" "Murder!" "Help!" I called to Police-constable Howe, who was at the corner of Wardour Street, jumped off my van, and ran towards prisoner, who came out of the shop and ran towards me, holding the fronts of his overcoat up. As I barred his way he put his right hand into his overcoat pocket, took something out, and made a blow at my left chest. I warded with my right hand and felt a sharp sensation in the hand and a numbness at the shoulder. I called out to the police-constable,

"Look out! he has got a knife!" When I got up to him he said, "I know. I have got it!" and pointed to his shoulder. We followed the prisoner, who was taken. The constable told me to get off to the hospital as he could manage, and I was taken to Charing Cross Hospital in a cab. I am still an out-patient there.

Police-constable ALBERT ALLAN HOWE , 113 C. On November 7 I was on point duty at the corner of Wardour Street near the obelisk. At 11.45 I heard shouts, went towards 84, Shaftesbury Avenue, and saw the prisoner pursued by Carter, who shouted "Stop him!" I closed with prisoner, who held up a knife. I dodged under his arm when he wounded me under my right shoulder in the bend of the arm. I held prisoner's coat. He threw down the knife produced, which I picked up, and ran after him. Carter came up and said, "He has stabbed me!" I then found blood coming from my shoulder. Several men then came up and held the prisoner; they appeared to be going to hit him. I said, "Please do not hit him." Prisoner then said, "I will go quietly with you, constable." He was very cool. I with assistance took him to the station. On the way I felt faint. Police-constable Gower relieved me, and I was taken in a carriage to Vine Street. The knife was covered with blood as it now appears. It opens with a spring at the back, which has to be pressed to close it. I remained as an in-patient at the hospital till November 26."

Cross-examined. When I overtook the prisoner he was perfectly cool—calm, as if he had been out for a walk.

WALTER HOWEY , 13, Langton Street, Chelsea. I went with the deceased in a cab to the hospital. He was bleeding from the right hand and the mouth covered with blood.

Police-constable WILLIAM GOWER , 389 C. I relieved Police-constable Howe in taking prisoner to the station. On the way prisoner repeated several times that he would go quiet.

Cross-examined. Prisoner made no attempt to escape and appeared quite calm.

Re-examined. Two men were holding him; I kept very tight hold with Lister. When Lister shifted his hold to get a firmer grip, each time he said, "All right, I will go quiet."

Inspector CHARLES FOGWILL , C Division. On November 7, at 11.55 a.m. prisoner was brought in at Vine Street by Police-constable Howe who delivered me knife (produced) with fresh blood on it. I sent Howe to the hospital. I searched prisoner and found in his trousers pocket six cartridges; in his overcoat pocket an 8 oz. bottle of strong ammonia, and in his waistcoat pocket pawnticket dated November 7 relating to the pledging of a watch for 2s. with Davis, 40, St. Martin's Lane in the name of John McDonald, of 9, Brick Street, also some cards and a clinical thermometer (produced). I found no money of any kind upon him, no papers, or anything to give indication as to who or what he was, except the pawnticket. He was asked his name and address. He said, "John McDonald—no home, no occupation"; he gave his age as 24. I told him he would be detained pending inquiries and took him to the cells. As I was leaving he called out, "Inspector—you might let me know how the

persons I have injured are progressing." Revolver (produced) was brought in and unloaded—it contained five live cartridges and one exploded.

Police-inspector WILLIAM EVENDEN , 87 C. On November 7 I went to 84, Shaftesbury Avenue and found revolver (produced) beneath the counter, the hammer down and the exploded cartridge one chamber beyond the firing point. I handed it to Inspector Fogwill.

FREDERICK ARTHUR COCHRANE PRATT , second clerk at Bow Street Police Court. On November 8 I attended Sir Albert de Rutzen at the bedside of Mr. Schlitte in Charing Cross Hospital, who made a deposition in the presence of the prisoner, which I took down as clerk. Prisoner was asked several times if he wished to ask any questions both by Sir Albert and by myself. He asked no questions, but he made two statements, which I took down when they occurred. The deposition was read over, Mr. Schlitte put his mark, Sir Albert de Rutzen signed the deposition (produced). Mr. Schlitte's hands were bound up, only the thumb showing.

Deposition of Julius Schlitte read: I was at 84, Shaftesbury Avenue yesterday, November 7. I saw prisoner levelling the revolver at me. He fired and the bullet struck me in the chest. I am quite sure prisoner was the man. He fired at me without my saying or doing anything to him. I have never seen prisoner before. The prisoner said, "I should like to express my regret and my sorrow." The witness continued: I received also six or seven stabs with a knife. The prisoner did it. Prisoner then said, "I do not remember the stabs, but I have some recollection of the revolver." The witness continued: I cannot remember whether prisoner asked me for money. I broke the window to attract attention. It was about 10.30 or 11 a.m. when prisoner came in. This happened just after Mr. Calderwood left the shop.

Inspector HENRY FOWLER , New Scotland Yard. On November 7 I saw prisoner at Vine Street, told him who I was, and that he would be detained pending inquiries. He made no reply. I made inquiries, and at six p.m. charged him with feloniously cutting and wounding with a knife and shooting at with a revolver Julius Schlitte with intent to murder him; further with feloniously cutting and wounding the man Carter with intent to do him grievous bodily harm; and further with feloniously cutting and wounding Police-constable Howe with intent to do him grievous bodily harm and resist his lawful apprehension. To the first charge the prisoner said, "No, the intent was not to murder." He made no reply to the second charge; to the third charge he said, "That is right, but I did not intend to murder." I received information on Sunday morning and took prisoner to Charing Cross Hospital. On the way he said that his name was Murphy, and asked me to quietly inform his sister of his position. He gave me her address. He also gave me the address at Shirland Road, where he said he had been living—Mrs. Graimes. After the deposition of Mr. Schlitte had been taken I went to Shirland Road and found target produced. On it is written "39 out of a possible 42. Beat Watkins 7 points. 4-6ths off J. Merton." On November 7 I

noticed that prisoner had scratches on the left wrist such as might be done by finger nails; the blood was still visible; there was also a small piece of flesh misting from the inside of the index finger of the left hand, which might have been taken out by a finger nail. I received the pawnticket and inquired at 9, Brick Street, Mayfair, which is the only Brick Street shown in the London Directory. On November 9, the day of the death of Mr. Schlitte, I saw prisoner and said, "The gentleman, Mr. Schlitte, whom you are charged with attempting to murder, has died since you saw him in the hospital, and I now charge you with wilful murder." He made no reply.

Cross-examined. When I took prisoner to the hospital he seemed perfectly well and quite rational. He was not to much distressed as when I first saw him at four p.m. on Saturday. He then certainly appeared to be distressed and fully appreciated his position to my mind. His solicitors gave me certain references as to his character. I have made inquiries and found them perfectly genuine and all in favour of the prisoner. I have ascertained that his sister has been suffering from a tumour on the brain and has had an operation. There were written characters from his employers. I have made inquiries into some of them; others are too far away—in Calcutta. So far as I have made inquiries they are quite genuine and in his favour. When I saw prisoner on November he shivered and said, "I suffer from ague." While he has been in my charge I found him rational, generally.

Re-examined. The characters extend from March, 1903, to March 20, 1908, continuously, except for one or two periods of a few months. The first is dated March 5, 1903; the second May 15, 1903; the next November 30, 1904, referring to a service of 15 months in Calcutta; the next in Scotland; the next is dated November 2, 1905, from the Electric Railways of London, stating he was there from April 8 to October 14, 1905; the next states that he has been in India and is dated March, 1906; then from a motor company, New Oxford Street, dated March 20, 1908, and referring to J. Murphy having been employed by that company from 1906 to 1908. I have not been able to find that he has been in any employment since. All these testimonials refer to his intelligence, industry, and ability as an electrical engineer, "great aptitude for business"; "carried out his duties to my satisfaction"; "reliable and hard working young engineer"; in the last from the motor company he is described as "a good mechanic, driver, and trustworthy." On November 7 he was in the cell when he shivered—at about two p.m., two hours after he was brought in—that it not unusual.

EDWARD HENRY HUGO , house surgeon, Charing Cross Hospital. On November 7 I saw Mr. Schlitte when he was brought in. His condition was very serious and I took him at once to a ward. I noticed at once a hole in his left breast; there was slight singeing of the cloth round the hole. After the clothes were taken off I found a bullet wound at the spot. In the post-mortem examination which I assisted at I found it penetrated through the lung and the bullet was embedded in the muscles at the back. It entered 4 ft. 10 in. from

the soles of the feet. I produced the bullet, near which I found a portion of the waistcoat driven in. That wound would not have immediately prevented the deceased from struggling with considerable force. There were also six stab wounds on the body and incised wounds on both hands. I was present when Mr. Schlitte's deposition was taken. He was quite clear in his judgment; I told him he was dying. He died at 5.30 a.m. on November 9. At the postmortem which I assisted at, the body was that of a healthy person; the cause of death being shock and hemorrhage resulting from a series of wounds, including the shot, which penetrated the left lung. On the right hand there was a clean cut from the base of the little finger across the palm to the other side, at one end exposing the tendon and tailing off to a superficial wound; on the left hand there was a similar cut in the palm, but not quite so deep; there were some superficial cuts on the back of the fingers and wrist. There were six stab wounds on the body—one on the left abdomen partly a stab wound and partly incised, 4 in. long, 1 in. wide, 2 1/2 in. deep; superficially it was continued under the skin about 2 1/2 in. There was another wound, of a similar character 1 in. below it, 2 in. by 1 1/2 in., exposing a knuckle of the gut—a portion of the intestine. On the right side, 4 in. below the nipple, there was a wound 2 1/2 in. long by 1/2 in. wide, about 4 in. deep, in an upward direction. All the stab wounds in front were in an upward direction. That continued under the skin; it did not injure any organ. There was a wound on the left side, 3 in. below the lower angle of the shoulder blade, 1 1/2 in. by 1/2 in., about ✗. 1/2 deep directed to the left and slightly downwards. The fifth wound was on the right, internal to the lower part of the shoulder blade nearer the spine; another, 3 1/2 in. below that, 1 1/2 in. by 1/2 in., about 3 in. deep directed downwards towards the spine. The wound on the right had cut through the tenth rib and penetrated into the lung; that was a second injury to the same lung. All the wounds could have been caused by the knife produced. Mr. Schlitte when he received the bullet wound must have been standing upright slightly stooping, the shot fired straight in front, horizontally. It is a similar bullet to those in the cartridges.


KITTY FITZGERALD , Delaware Mansions, Maida Vale. I have known prisoner's sister, Mrs. Carlton, for a short time and visited her on November 6, the day she took to her bed. She has been in bed ever since. Prisoner was there on November 6. I did not see anything wrong with him; he talked with me quite all right. He came in, kissed his sister, gave her a quinine pill, took her temperature with a clinical thermometer, and gave her a bottle of eau de cologne. He looked a bit funny about the eyes. He seemed very dazed and kept jerking his head. The lady upstairs was playing the piano and Mrs. Carlton was very bad. I suggested he should write a letter and he went into the next room, wrote one, and read it to us, asking her not to play and he sent it up by the maid. He talked to me

about some Indian poems which he had in his pocket-book and read them to me. His sister spoke to him in the Indian language; he said, "Good night," kissed her, and said he would be early in the morning.

Cross-examined. On November 6 he came in about 8.30 and left about 10.30. We sat up with his sister the whole night. He had no refreshment there.

ELIZABETH RICHARDS , widow, nurse and housekeeper to Mrs. Kathleen Carlton, Delaware Mansions. I have been with Mrs. Carlton from October 30, 1908. I saw prisoner every day during the week ending November 7. I thought he was very strange in his manners; he did not seem to rest in either of the rooms and worried me very much about the food, asking me to cook it when it was not time to cook it. He always took his meals at the flat. On Friday, November 6, his sister was out. He came into the kitchen in the afternoon and said to me, "Will you get little Miss Kathleen ready for Ireland—dress her." I said, "No, sir, I could not do that as the mistress is out and I must not dress her before she comes home." Then he said, "Would you get the dinner ready at once?" I said, "It is not time yet—I have got to fetch it first." He asked me to give the child a little bit of cake, so I said, "She does not want it now." He insisted upon having the little child sitting upon a chair. She wet very good but he said she was very naughty. On the Friday night when I took his supper in he stood with a revolver pointing it at the pictures, so I said, "What are you doing?" He said, "Don't talk, don't talk, I am worried." He did not seem to realise that his supper was on the table. When his sister came home she was in a dead faint. I said to prisoner, "Do help me to get her out of the faint." He went on whistling. He never seemed to understand that the was in a faint, I said, "Do not whistle, the mistress's head it very bad." When he was pointing the pistol I said, "Don't be silly, your sitter will soon get better." He kept going in the bedroom, and worrying his sister while she was so ill—he did not seem to realise she was ill; he kept going in and out of the different rooms at if he did not know what he was doing. He sent me out for 4d. worth of bitter and insisted on my having a glass. On Saturday morning, November 7, he came and brought the milk into the kitchen, whistling. I said, "Don't make a noise, I have been up half the night with your sister. She has been so ill." He said, "Get my tea and breakfast at once." I said, "You must allow the kettle to boil; you must give me time." I got his breakfast all right but he ate very little, he kept walking about, just ate a little of the egg and that was all.

Cross-examined. On November 7 I had been there a week. Mrs. Carlton, the little girl three years old, and myself lived in the flat. Prisoner had all his meals there. He had supper at eight or nine o'clock with or without his sister. On Friday he was there all day—came at about 8.30 a.m., went out to get a paper, had lunch, went out at about 4 p.m., and returned about eight or nine. I am sure he was there from 1.45 to 2.45 having his lunch in the sitting room with the child. His sister was out. He did not pay for any meals that I

know of. I told the mistress about his speaking of taking the child to Ireland: she said, "It is nothing of the kind; she is not going to Ireland." It was at about 8 p.m. when he pointed the revolver at the pictures and then at me. I said, "Whatever are yon doing. Don't be silly"; then he did not point it at me any more—he put it away and I saw no more of it.

Re-examined. Mrs. Carlton was very ill on Friday. She underwent an operation on Saturday and has been confined to her room since. She has sat up for a little while. I believe she has to undergo another operation.

WINIFRED COURTNEY , Delaware Mansions, Maida Vale, half-sister to Kitty Fitzgerald. I have visited Mrs. Carlton since her illness—since the day of the operation. I was there on Friday, November 6. Prisoner came to my flat at about 7.30 and said his sister wanted to see me. I went in at 9.30—he came in, gave her a quinine pill, took her temperature, and gave her a bottle of eau de Cologne. I did not see anything peculiar about the prisoner, only he looked dazed about the eyes.

Cross-examined. I did not know about the operation till the Saturday morning. The prisoner talked on ordinary topics and appeared in his perfect senses the night I was with him.

HY. BONGER , engineer. I have known prisoner about 18 months as an engineer and privately. His behaviour is very good. He is rather absentminded at times. I never saw him drink or the worse for liquor. He would start a subject and then forget all about what he was saying. I asked him the cause and he told me he suffered from fever. He was funny about the eyes—looked at one in a vacant way.

Cross-examined. When I knew prisoner 18 months ago he was working for the Underground Electric Railways Company as a sub-station attendant, in charge of an electric sub-station at Ravenscourt Park—singlehanded; he would be on duty for eight hours; it is an important post. Prisoner was a skilled electrical engineer and would be properly described as a reliable, hard-working, steady, intelligent young engineer, with considerable electrical knowledge. In the post he held, if he made a mistake he might do a great deal of damage. He was there about seven or eight months, I think. Mr. Casson was his superintendent. After that he entered the employ of a motor company in Oxford Street and I think he went to a job in Glasgow. (To the Judge.) There was one incident I might mention I lent him a bicycle and I asked him where the machine was. He informed me that he was cycling and he suddenly lost his memory; the machine fell and he hurt himself; and he did not seem to recollect where the machine was. After a day or two he came and told me that he remembered.

FREDERICK GARIBALDI ROGERS , proprietor of the Automobile Market, Limited, Oxford Street. Prisoner came to me about 1903 as a pupil, stayed for a few months, learning to drive motor-cars, and left me to enter an employment. He afterwards applied to me to get him a situation. I did not notice anything peculiar about him while

with me; he behaved quite as a gentleman and I made more than ordinary friends with him. I bought some Indian chairs of him—curios. He was not exactly works manager with me, but he went between me and the men. I never saw him the worse for drink; his health was apparently good. I heard from a driver that he complained of his head and used to lie down in the day time.

Cross-examined. On one occasion he asked me to cash a cheque which I refused to do, and he said he would have to go and cash it at the bank—he may have said in Shaftesbury Avenue, but I cannot exactly remember that.

HERBERT WILLIAM UMNEY , civil engineer. The accused was recommended to us by a client of mine, and we gave him some work as assistant in the months of February and March, 1908. He only left us because work was very quiet on account of the engineering strike, and we thought so well of him that we recommended him to one of our firms in the North of England in which I have a large interest. He certainly behaved perfectly well with us, and we formed the opinion that he was a very well trained engineer. He was perfectly sober—the meekest and quietest individual I have ever had in my employment.

(Tuesday, December 15.)

STELLA LYNNE (the witness was permitted to hand her address in). I have known Mrs. Carlton from October 16, 1908, and visited her at her flat, where I saw prisoner. Two or three days after I was there I noticed he acted in rather a peculiar manner. He would walk up and down the room for three or four hours at a time muttering to himself. On one occasion his sister and I had been at the west End, had come home about 12.45, and were about to retire, when we heard a noise. We went out of the room, and came back again about 10 minutes afterwards to see what it was. I looked under the wardrobe—there was nothing there; I looked under the bed and saw the prisoner fast asleep, with an open rasor in his hand. I was terrified at the moment, but I came back again, and I gradually took the razor from his hand while he was asleep and hid it under the bath in the bathroom. Then I came back and I jerked him up, and tried to get him to go to bed. But he behaved in a most violent manner, and had not I been rather a strong woman he would have strangled his sister. He got hold of her by the throat. I and Mrs. Carlton had come in to go to bed in the same room. Then he ordered me from the room, and about 10 minutes after he came out nude and walked out in the street. His sister said she was going to call a policeman and give him in charge and I begged her not to do so as he was her brother; so I coaxed him indoors; I went out and found him prostrate on the pavement; I lifted him up and sort of dragged him upstairs from the pavement outside the house. I tried to coax him to go to bed; he again became violent, and at last I got him to sleep in the dining-room, and I sat in the chair all night with him until about four in the morning. First of all I thought he had been drinking but

after I found that he had not; he was not a man that drank at all; he was so strange at times. Mrs. Carlton was out about ten minutes; she went out in her night attire and same back with two policemen. In the morning he woke up as if nothing had happened. I asked him if he remembered. So he said, "Remember what?" I explained to him and he told me he had not the faintest recollection of anything. Then he said, "Glory"—he used to call me that—"never take notice of me because I am strange at times." The next morning Mrs. Carlton's throat was very much swollen; she complained of pains in her head and she would not see her brother. I begged her to come and see him and I would get him to apologise for his behaviour; but he refused to apologise to her, and he said unless she came and went on her knees to him he would murder her and her child. There was just a little mark on her throat; she could not swallow for two or three days. On another occasion I was going to the West End; he offered to accompany me and we both got into a hansom; I happened to put my hand into his pocket, felt something rather cold and I found a razor there. I asked him what he was going to do with it. He said, "I am going to the West End and I am going to find my sister and end her life and mine and her child's. Oh, I am sick of this world." I gradually coaxed the razor away from him and hid it and I went to look for his sister and told her what he intended doing. He has often threatened his sister. I was with his sister at the flat for about a week. I became so nervous because I never knew when he was going to be in the room. There were quarrels between him and his sister all the day long. He used to sit down for hours at a time talking to himself and take the hairs out of his head, pass them through his teeth and throw them away. I asked him why he did that. He used to do it just from nervousness; he would be thinking for three or four hours at a time.

Cross-examined. I slept in the same room as Mrs. Carlton. The prisoner slept somewhere in Shirland Road, Paddington. He used to come every day for breakfast about ten o'clock. He had no employment; he tried once of twice to get something to do; he could not get anything to do; he would come in broken-hearted and say, "I am sick of this world, Glory." He had very little money; I think his sister gave it him. I never did—I once lent him two shillings. He had most of his meals at the flat when he did have anything to eat, but he used to practically starve himself. He would sort of make a fuss if the things were not ready but he ate very little of what was put before him. He was not a man that drank at all; now and again he might drink a glass of stout, nothing stronger. When I found him under the bed I thought he had been drinking; I do not believe he had because he was not a man that drank at all—he did not care for drink. He did not exactly look like a drunken man. We were terrified when we found him there. He had been there in the morning and had had a few words with his sister and he left saying he never wanted to see her again. She used to complain of his living at the flat and having nothing to do and naturally he was upset. I think he was angry about that on that occasion. Violent language used to pass between them.

We had gone out about 7.45. He had been gone all the afternoon. When they began to quarrel I used to go into the other room. When we came back at 12.45 we heard him snoring. I may have said, "I bet you it it Jack." Then I struck a match and saw him. The electric light was on. He seemed rather dazed and I thought at first he was heavy with drink. I pulled him out and lifted him on the bed, and got him up. He did not stand for two or three minutes, and then he got up and behaved in a most violent manner. He was not at all angry about being pulled up; he was angry when he saw his sister, with whom he had quarrelled that afternoon. He took her by the throat and then I flew at him to prevent him doing her any harm. He might have been drunk, but he seemed so strange. His sister began to undo her hair, and was almost undressed—I think that was in the diningroom; and then we went into the bedroom and heard the snoring; then we ran out of the room; then, after a little, we came back into the room and I pulled him out from under the bed, and then I got him on to the bed, and he was half asleep and half awake; he seemed to be all right and she said, "Glory, I think I will go into the maid's room, and you will see what you will do with him"—I did not really remember; she was sort of undressing, and he got up all of a sudden and flew at his sister and tried to strangle her. I got him into the dining-room and I went out of the room, and when I came back I just saw him disappear through the front door. He attacked her twice during the night; first in the bedroom; then we left him in there for a few minutes, and I next saw him disappearing out of the front door stark naked. I sort of dragged him upstairs and tried to pull him together. He seemed to me as if he was helpless drunk, but I am sure he was not drunk. I have made a mistake it was twice he was violent—the night the policemen came was not the night I carried him upstairs—I cannot remember the dates. (Policeconstable Saunders brought into Court.) I remember that constable coming, but I cannot be sure it was the same night. The police only came in once, and they told him if he did not behave himself he would have to be taken away; I think he did behave himself after that; that was the night he stayed all night in the chair, I think—I really am not certain. On the occasion he came with me in the cab I had an appointment in the West End; we drove as far as Piccadilly Circus, and I left him to keep this appointment. He said, "I am going to wait for Kathleen." I said, "Don't be silly, Jack; do not do anything wrong. I must keep this appointment and then I will come round and see if I can see her." I made an excuse for my appointment and went to Rayner's Hotel, in the Haymarket, and met him there. I saw his sister outside. He saw his sister then—no he did not—I am not sure. His sister wanted me to go to the police station and get a policeman. I went back to the flat that night and was there a day or two afterwards. He complained about the life she was leading on several occasions, and she quarrelled about his having nothing to do. The morning after the night I have spoken of he made his sister go down

on her knees to him. I did not go to the flat after October 23 until quite recently.

Re-examined. Prisoner only went to the West End with me on one occasion. There were also quarrels with his sister's husband. Several people knew that I had the razor. I mentioned it to the barmaid, Miss Bamford. He was very fond of his sister when they were not quarrelling. He would come and ask her to forgive him and she would ask him to forgive her.

KATE BAMFORD (who handed in her address). On October, 1908, I was barmaid at Rayner's, Haymarket. I was employed there about 10 months from last January. I have known Mrs. Carlton about six months as a customer and have seen the accused as a customer, also the last witness. In October I saw Miss Lynne there with the prisoner. Mrs. Carlton showed me marks on her throat like finger marks and spoke to me.

JOHN LANCELOT ATKINSON , registered medical practitioner. I have attended Mrs. Carlton, of Delaware Mansions, from November 5 to the present date, and was present when her deposition was taken. She was very ill indeed, then; we almost lost her that night. She is an epileptic. I met prisoner on November 6. I cannot say if he is affected in that way. Epilepsy is hereditary; if both parents have suffered from it there is great probability of the children having it. There are two primary forms of epilepsy called haut mal and petit mal. In haut mal the disease is palpable to anyone connected with the patient; in petit mal he has slight seizures, in which he loses himself for a second and then returns back to his consciousness. In conversation he would cease for a moment and then pick up the conversation where he left off. Those are the more treacherous cases. Previous to an attack of petit mal the victim is quite calm; there would be no warning; and many times during an attack of petit mal a person previously of good character and disposition has committed terrible outrages. When he recovers he is quite calm; he may have some hazy recollection of what has happened or he may not. Prisoner's conduct in this case would be quite consistent with an attack of petit mal. A first attack may come on quite suddenly. Extreme irritability would be a symptom. If a man with the family history of the prisoner, whose two parents had suffered from epilepsy, had two attacks of sunstroke it would excite epilepsy or increase the number of attacks; anything that reduced the patient's health would do so.

Cross-examined. I practise at 112, Burnhead-road, Paddington and have been in general practice for 22 years. Mrs. Carlton's is the only case I have had in Delaware Mansions. She is suffering from an abscess on the skull. It has not affected her brain. The bone is dead where the operation was done. I was first called in on Thursday, November 6. at nine p.m., when I decided that an operation was necessary, and asked her for five guineas to get the surgeon's service. I called on Friday at 11.30 a.m., and found she was not at home; that surprised me very much, as I had advised her not to go out. I afterwards saw her and told her I did not wish to attend her

unless she followed my instructions. She said she had been to borrow the fee from her solicitor, Mr. Ellis. She said she had not any money; that she had given prisoner all the money she had, £4, which was for her rent. (The Judge ruled that communication with the sister was not evidence.) On Saturday afternoon there was an operation performed. No fee was paid. The surgeon did the operation without a fee. My father was an epileptic and I have; read the subject up carefully. He suffered from haut mal. In petit mal there are very slight seizures occasionally; the interval is varied between the seizures. A person who is an epileptic suffering from attacks of petit mal it not likely to succeed in a skilled business or profession—he is not trustworthy or reliable. The attacks might be weekly, monthly, or yearly—generally more frequently. I think during the attack consciousness is lost absolutely; after the attack there is a hazy recollection. I do not think all irritable people are insane. I do not know personally of a case of petit mal or haut mal in which considerable preparation for the violence done during the attack was made.

ADOLPHUS EDWARD BRIDGES , M.D., 18, Portland Place. I am a general physician. Epilepsy is generally hereditary; if both parents suffered from it there would be great probability of the children also suffering from it. Two attacks of sunstroke would aggravate the tendency. Anything that affects the general health would predispose to epilepsy where it was hereditary. Malarial fever and attacks of ague would do so also, by lowering the general health. In epileptics dangerous mania may exist without furious excitement; there might be no furious excitement antecedent to the attack; I might say there generally would not be. The attack comes on quite suddenly and without any reference to what has gone just before—that is the general rule in an attack of petit mal. In one or two cases in my own personal knowledge there has been some trivial giddiness, but as a general rule there is no premonitory symptom. After acts of violence the mind is generally a complete blank; sometimes there is a confused sense of something. Furor epilepticus is a term applied to violence displayed during an attack of petit mal; the attack is usually very violent—greater than in cases of extreme anger as a rule. There are cases of persons under such attacks committing the most violent outrages against those who are nearest and dearest to them; it is generally towards a stranger in my experience. In this case, where the prisoner is charged with shooting and stabbing, it is consistent with his having committed those offences during an attack of furor epilepticus that he should know nothing about the stabbing and only have a hazy recollection of the shooting.

Cross-examined. He would get a hazy recollection owing to suddenly finding himself in a totally unusual position—he would begin to, wonder, and his mind to work, and within a minute or two he would have a hazy recollection possibly of the most trivial detail. He would come to suddenly. He would be dazed at first and would try to connect his present situation with his usual situation. In my experience I should say it would take 20 minutes to half an hour before

the man really comes completely to himself. In some cases it is much more quick. A man after an attack of furor epilepticus would, in my opinion, be able to form in a minute a definite intention of rushing and escaping from the scene of his violence and striking down anybody who got in his way. I heard of a case in Leith Walk, Edinburgh, when I was a student 30 years ago, where a man who had had previous attacks of epilepsy suddenly struck a stranger most violently in the face, then ran away, and remembered nothing whatever of it. That is a case that Professor Simpson, of Edinburgh, told me of the following day. I have not known in my own personal experience of a case of petit mal where there was preparation leading up to the perpetration of the particular kind of violence which was committed during the attack. Such cases would not generally come under my observation. I am a physician and I have a large number of nervous cases, not cases of violence. There are a variety of fits; it requires skilled observation to distinguish between epileptic fits and fits not epileptic. Epileptics generally foam at the mouth in a fit; it is a fairly reliable symptom of epilepsy. (To the Judge.) It would be quite consistent with petit mal for a person to get weapons for another purpose and then use them for an act of violence in an attack of petit mal. Generally between such attacks you can detect the epileptic tendency—I should except attacks of petit mal, particularly in young people.

WILLIAM FREDERICK LEWIS proved the taking of the deposition of Mrs. Kathleen Carlton in the presence of the solicitor for the prosecution and Inspector Fowler, and the service of notice.

Mr. Bodkin submitted that parts of the deposition were clearly not evidence.

Mr. Justice Pickford. It is the safer course to admit it, and I shall caution the Jury as to those points on which they ought not to rely.

The deposition of Kathleen Carlton was then read.

(Evidence in rebuttal.)

HENRY FOWLER , recalled. On the knife there is some filing where the maker's name usually appears—the name has been filed away.

Cross-examined. I have no idea how the prisoner got possession of the knife; it appears to be a new one.

PHILLIP HENRY DUNN , divisional surgeon, Vine Street District. I saw the prisoner on November 7 at 2.50 p.m. His temperature was quite normal. The clinical thermometer produced is not in order—the thread is broken.

Cross-examined. The thermometer would not indicate correctly the last temperature registered; I have not attempted to move it—it has been left as it was; the thread is broken. It registers nearly 105 degrees; deducting the broken portion it is about 99 degrees. I have no great experience of malarial cases, but I have seen some; in such

cases the temperature rises suddenly and falls gradually; it would not drop to normal during the attack; it does not fluctuate greatly;, during the attack it does not come down to anything like normal.

Police-constable GEORGE WILLIAM SANDERS , 682 K, stationed at Harrow Road. About October 18 to 20 I was on duty with Policeconstable Hammond in Delaware Road, when a young woman came down to a doorway and asked me to go upstairs to her flat, which I did, where I saw a man who I believe to be the prisoner. She said he was drunk and asked me to speak to him. When I went in he said,. "Now I will go out if you want me to"—before I spoke to him. She then said, "Oh, that will be all right, constable," and I came away. He had the appearance of a drunken man, or one that had been drinking. He behaved quietly. He had an ordinary light suit of clothes on. No complaint was made of violence or assault; the young woman did not call my attention to her neck.

Cross-examined. I cannot fix the date exactly. I made no report at the time. A statement was taken from me by the Inspector on November 19; it was entirely my own statement. I told him the man did not appear to be prejudiced against his sister in any way. I heard about this case through the solicitors. Nothing was said to me about a defence of insanity being raised. The man was fully dressed, in a light suit similar to what the prisoner is wearing now. I swear that no complaint was made about violence. I went in because the young woman was standing there in her nightdress—in the doorway, not in the street. I did not ask her if she was in fear of violence; she never said the was.

Re-examined. What she said was, "My brother is upstairs in my flat under the influence of drink; he is making a noise and I cannot get any sleep. Will you come and speak to him?" I went up stairs. in the ordinary way.

PHILLIP HENRY DUNN , recalled. I examined prisoner on November 7 at 2.50 p.m. I found him perfectly rational in his answers to all the questions I asked. He was shivering slightly and his pulse was rapid—about 120; I consider that was caused by the natural reaction—by the position he was in; I attributed the shivering to nervousness. He was in the cell. He answered my questions perfectly intelligently and at once. I found no symptom of epilepsy. I have heard the evidence with regard to epilepsy. After an attack the person is certain to be drowsy, heavy, and not at all clear. That condition would ordinarily continue over three hours.

Cross-examined. I agree with Dr. Bridger that after a patient had completely recovered from one fit and before the next one came on he would exhibit no signs of epilepsy. In a very slight attack he would become perfectly collected in 20 to 30 minutes. In the case of a very serious attack it might take five or six hours; it might be less; it depends on the severity of the attack of petit mal. After an attack sufficiently severe to cause a man to commit a murder such as this he certainly would be drowsy or heavy for three or four hours at least. When I saw prisoner he was calm. I attributed the shivering to nervousness; it crossed my mind whether it was not partially assumed, because he said he was suffering from an attack of ague,

and he certainly was not. A pulse of 120 is not normal, anything between 60 and 90 would be normal. The shivering and high pulse, if not assumed, was caused by the excitement of the reaction. I do not say it was assumed. Epilepsy is frequently hereditary. If his parents and his sister ware epileptics, the chances are he would have a highly organised nervous system and would suffer from some nervous disease, not necessarily epilepsy; I think he would be more likely to have it. I would not say there would be a marked predisposition. Attacks of sunstroke, malaria, or ague might lead to epilepsy by reducing the general health; I should not say they would render him liable to outbursts of insanity. An epileptic would not be liable to absent-mindedness between attacks; I think he would be more or less normal.

Re-examined. Having heard the circumstances of this case, if these acts were done by the prisoner in the course of an attack of petit mal, it must have been one of the greatest violence. It is invariable that attacks of the greatest violence leave the longest traces behind them. I did not find the slightest trace in the prisoner of ague. His condition was perfectly consistent with nervousness arising from his position.

JAMES SCOTT , M.D., medical officer H.M. Prison, Brixton. I have been medical officer of a detention prison for about 13 years, have dealt with a large number of cases of insanity or alleged insanity, and have given evidence in this court for 12 years. Prisoner came under my observation on Monday, November 9, and since that date I have seen him once or twice a day and had various conversations with him as to his health and his history generally. I have heard the evidence given in this case. He talked rationally and connectedly, his memory was fairly good, I detected no delusions. His temperature has generally been normal—98.4 deg. On two occasions it reached 99 deg. and on one occasion 99.2 deg. He complained of pains in his head frequently and of feeling aguish. I have seen nothing resembling an attack of ague. He slept and ate fairly well, as a rule. His conduct generally has been quiet and well conducted. At times he looked rather depressed—nothing beyond what might be expected from his situation. He had had rather a fagging day in court awaiting trial. He told me he had been in London four months, had had no employment for six months, and had had money from his sister. He said his sister's mode of life had worried him a great deal. He said he had been an electrical engineer and had done nothing strange so far as he knew in doing his work. He told me his father was a sergeant-major in India and had been engaged on public works after leaving the Army. His memory was vague as to his father's health. He understood his mother had died from plen✗isy and brain fever and had suffered from epilepsy. He said he had had typhoid in India about 1901 and two short attacks of sunstroke in 1901 and 1903, when he was laid up for a few days; he had had malarial fever at times for 10 or 11 years; he thought he had had scarlet fever and cholera. His memory was rather vague at to this; he said he had been laid up on one occasion for three or four days, and on the other for seven to 10 days. The only fit he referred to was one occasion

when he was on a bicycle and found himself at a different place from that which he wished to go to, and he thought he must have had some kind of a fit. Since November 9 I have observed no sign of epilepsy; I have not detected any insanity. From my observation and from studying the evidence I do not see anything to indicate that he was insane on November 7. If the parents are epileptic it would be a predisposing cause in their children of epilepsy of the best understood types, but there are various kinds of fits where heredity would not be the affecting cause. (To the Judge.) If the parents suffer from epilepsy the children are more likely than other people to have it. (To Mr. Bodkin.) If prisoner had suffered from epilepsy he would probably not have performed the work attributed to him without a lapse—doing something wrong or omitting something. With regard to attacks of epilepsy the cases all vary; some are at fairly regular intervals, others very irregular; the attacks frequently increase in intensity. Petit mal is a mild form of epilepsy; one would not expect the first fit to be very violent. The fits may be quite independent of external circumtstances; they may be aggravated by trouble, worry or illness; epileptics are very often irritable in temper; the prisoner does not appear to be so. Fits of petit mal last very often only a few seconds, sometimes a little longer. They are followed by lassitude; if of a violent character the fit would be followed by a longer period of lassitude. During the fit the sufferer is unconscious of his surroundings. After the fit is over sometimes they have absolutely no recollection; at other times they seem to have a hazy remembrance; they are generally slow and dull for a while afterwards. After such an attack as is suggested here he would not be in a normal condition for a few hours. I have no experience of such a case as a true epileptic making preparation for using and afterwards using implements in the course of an attack. As a rule they make no attempt to escape; it is highly improbable that they would be at once able to intelligently answer questions. Taking all the circumstances I have heard stated in the evidence, assuming them to be correct, and adding my own experience of the prisoner for the last five weeks, in my opinion on November 7 he was conscious of his acts and in a condition to know whether they were right or wrong.

Cross-examined. Epileptics are liable to irritability. Frequently there is no sign of epilepsy between the attacks. Prisoner has had small doses of kinastine and quinine when he has complained of his headache being very severe. Quinine of course has an effect on malaria; kinastine would have no effect on it. A person generally is calm just before and immediately after an attack of petit mal—i.e., petit mal per se. In petit mal combined with epileptic furor I should not expect immediate calmness; I should expect the effects to last longer; more like three or four hours. Petit mal by itself is merely a short loss of consciousness. An attack of furor usually lasts but a very short time; the immediate attack is a question of seconds,' it is usually followed by sleep or a period of dulness or depression; the sufferer might be 20 or 30 minutes before he recovered sufficient consciousness

to realise his surroundings; they are not generally in a humour for running. I agree with Dr. Bridger that an epileptic parent might have a child predisposed to epilepsy. In many cases of alcoholic convulsions there is foaming at the mouth where there is no real epileptic tendency. The prisoner's mother frothing at the mouth raises a suspicion at any rate of epilepsy. The disease frequently comes on about the age of puberty—from that to 25. The bicycle incident referred to might indicate an epileptic seizure; it might not. After a fit generally the memory is a blank; occasionally they seem to have a hazy recollection. If prisoner had committed these acts in an attack of petit mal I do not think he would give rational answers under 20 or 30 minutes.

Re-examined. I understood the prisoner's statements as to his mother were from his personal knowledge, because she died a few years ago while he was in India. His father died in 1896, and the prisoner's statements were quite vague; it is said that the father used to have fits, but as to when they occurred I have had no information; they may have occurred after prisoner was born.

HERBERT WILLIAM UMNEY , recalled. It is a very common practice for knives imported from Germany to have the maker's named filed out in order to conceal the fact that they come from abroad. I cannot tell you if this is a foreign knife.

Verdict, Guilty of wilful murder.

Prisoner being called upon said, I still say I am not guilty. I recollect nothing barring the revolver. I recollect a noise, and that must have been the firing of the revolver. A dastardly assassination is absolutely foreign to my nature, as my past action will show. I have taken a life, but how many have I saved? If you go back two years, on May 29, 1906, I saved two lives and was instrumental in saving a third at the risk of my own, and yet knowing the dangers I committed that dastardly assassination. Can you reconcile that? I am not afraid of death. There it is. From my heart I recollect nothing barring the noise of the firing. It is not myself I feel sorry for. I am only sorry for the friends that have befriended me.

Sentence, Death.


(Tuesday, December 15.)