“The prisoner,” said the witness, “appeared to be agitated, and unable to open the gate. I opened it for him; it was fastened with a small button. When I went out of my house, I said, ‘I am afraid my neighbour is ill’—not speaking to any person in particular, but as the prisoner was then coming down the garden I should think that I spoke loud enough for him to hear me: I was about six yards from him. No reply was made by him. When I got to the gate I could hear Mrs. Hart still making the same description of noise: the prisoner made me no answer when I asked him if I should open the gate; he appeared very much agitated, and was trying in a hurried manner to open the gate; he came out of the gate before I went in; I saw his face; I held the candle over the gate to open it: I have no doubt that he is the same man, though I had never seen him before that afternoon. In the afternoon Mrs. Hart said to me, ‘I expect my old master, but perhaps he will not come till to-morrow.’ When I got to Mrs. Hart’s door it was shut, and upon my opening it I saw Mrs. Hart lying on the floor with her head not a great way from the door; her legs were towards the fire, her dress was quite in a disordered state, her petticoats nearly up to her knees, her left stocking down to her ankle, and torn, and her left shoe off: her cap was off, and her hair hanging down over her head: her cap was a little distance from her: she was still making a noise, and her eyes were fixed, but her lips moving. I took hold of her hands and raised her head, and said, ‘Oh, Mrs. Hart, what is the matter?’ She did not make any answer, but I thought she seemed to press my hand, but I could not positively tell. I then raised her up, and a little froth came out of her mouth, and I thought she was dying. I laid her down again, and took my candle and went into Mrs. Wheeler’s house, next door but one. When I went into Mrs. Hart’s I observed a bottle and a glass by the side of it half full, and another glass on the opposite side of the table, near the door, empty; but there appeared to be something in the bottom of it. A chair was beside Mrs. Hart, and another opposite her. I returned from Mrs. Wheeler’s with Mrs. Barrett, and we placed a pillow on the child’s chair and bathed her temples. One of Mrs. Barrett’s apprentices went for Dr. Champneys, and he came. I searched the place immediately, and found no small vial about the size of a thimble. There was a middling fire in the house. Before I got into the house I thought the prisoner was looking, and I locked the door, because I was frightened. The deceased was breathing hard in a short way, and making a noise like ‘oh! oh!’ and her eyes looked very full.”
On cross-examination by Mr. Kelly, she said—
“That she heard Mrs. Hart’s voice rather loud after Mr. Tawell went in—only a few words, but could not hear what she said. She did not think that they were quarrelling, but that perhaps Mrs. Hart was in hysterics, as money matters were always talked over when Tawell came. When Mr. Champneys came in, he said he must try to bleed her: he did so, and there was about as much blood as would cover a plate; she died immediately afterwards; indeed, I think she was dead when he bled her. About Christmas Mrs. Hart received a basket of apples as a present—about a peck, some of which were left in a box.”
On re-examination, she said—
“That it was not more than a minute after she left her own house that she entered Mrs. Hart’s, and that she saw about ten or a dozen apples in the box after her death.”
Mrs. Barrett confirmed Mrs. Ashley’s account of the condition in which she found the deceased, but did not see any foam on her lips until after she tried to pour some water down her throat.[8]
It was then proved by the barmaid at the “Windmill,” on Salthill, and a gardener, that about half after six on that day the deceased came there for a bottle of Guinness’s stout, and that she was met between her house and the “Windmill” about the same time in high spirits running towards her cottage.
The next witness spoke to the acts of the prisoner before he arrived at the cottage. At three o’clock in the afternoon he had been at the Jerusalem Coffee-house, inquiring at what hour they closed, saying he was going to the West End, and should not be back until half-past eight, and wishing to leave a greatcoat and a parcel, which, by arrangement with the waiter, he fetched away about half-past nine or a quarter to ten that night, leaving his umbrella there. Other witnesses proved his being seen running from Bath Place towards Slough, getting into the Eton omnibus and stopping opposite Sir John Herschel’s house, then returning towards the Slough station and leaving it for Paddington by the half-past eight train.[9] The evidence of the next witness, who tracked him from the moment of his arrival at Paddington, must be given in detail.
William Williams said—
“I am a sergeant of police on the Great Western Railway, at Paddington Station. On the 1st of January, in consequence of a telegraphic communication, I observed the prisoner get out of a carriage and get into a New Road omnibus. I put on a private coat, and acted as guard. He got out opposite Princes’ Street, near the Bank, about a quarter past nine. I opened the door on purpose to look at him; he went towards the Wellington Statue, and then crossed over to Birch’s, the pastrycooks: he stood a moment, as if he was considering; I watched him from behind the statue. He then went towards the Jerusalem Coffee-house, and I followed him; he then went down a court into Birchin Lane, and from thence to Scott’s Yard, in the Borough, where he lodged, where I left him. On returning there next morning he was gone, so I went to the Jerusalem, and an officer (Wiggins) went in and took him into custody. Wiggins said to him that he was last seen in the house of a woman at Slough who was found dead, when he replied that, ‘I was not at Slough yesterday—I know no one there.’ I then remarked that I had seen him get off the train from Slough, and that he had given me sixpence after riding in the omnibus from the Paddington station. ‘You must be mistaken,’ he replied; ‘my station in life must rebut any suspicion that might be attached to me.’”