Monday 12 October 2020

The Execution of Franz Müller for the murder of Mr Briggs.

It is seldom that London has witnessed an execution which excited so much sensation as that by which the notorious criminal, whose apprehension and trial are related in another part of this volume, paid the penalty of his crime.

The preparations for the execution were on a most extensive scale; but, large as the provision was, it was more than justified by the event. The crowd - as most experienced persons had anticipated - was noisier and rougher than even Old Bailey crowds are usually found to be on these occasions. No doubt the German residents at the East End aided materially in the increase of numbers, but the most conspicuous element in the mob was the lowest refuse of metropolitan life - the combined force of ruffianism and thieving. The behaviour of the densely-packed mob was in some places not indecent; but in the immediate vicinity of the drop it was the reverse. Fights and hustlings for the purpose of robbery were incessant as the hour of the execution drew nigh, and were actually in operation when the bell was tolling, and when the cry of “hats off” had commenced, and the stealthy appearance of the hangman's head above the level of the scaffold to reconnoitre was greeted with a deafening yell. The police were mustered in great strength, and they kept the ground well wherever called upon to do so; but the few officers scattered separately about the crowd for the preservation of such order as could be hoped for, were able to effect but little towards repressing disturbance. The amusement of “bonneting,” combined with the business of picking pockets, went on with no apparent let or hindrance. During the night some heavy showers thinned the ground at times, but as the morning dawned fresh arrivals filled all the spaces marked out like pens by stout barricades. The houses commanding a sight of the drop were mostly filled with spectators who paid for places, at prices ranging from five or seven shillings to a couple of guineas a head. The sums asked and obtained for whole rooms were large, but did not approach those fabulous quotations which have been sometimes declared to cover a half-year's rent. Twelve pounds, in one instance, secured the possession of a first floor, with a tolerably comfortable bed. Many persons who had paid high for the privilege of a sight, did not succeed in getting such eligible places as they had bargained for. Those persons for a while grumbled at the bad accommodation, but at length, making the best of their bargain, played games at cards, relieved by chorus singing, till it was time to struggle for places at the window.

From six o'clock in the morning the prisoner was engaged in prayer with Dr. Cappel, minister of the German Lutheran chapel in Alie-street, Goodman's-fields. He had been but a few days in communication with the prisoner, and he paid his first visit to Müller some days before; but the prisoner, who was fencing to the last with his own conscience, stubbornly refrained from confessing his guilt. It was only in an unguarded moment that he made any approach to an admission. At one such time, when Dr. Cappel suggested that the death of Mr. Briggs was the result of a struggle, and that no deliberate murder had been planned, Müller replied, “I believe it may have been done in that way.” Dr. Cappel remarked, the first time he took the hand of Müller, that the grasp was not that of a feeble man. His shoulders were broad, square, and well set, and his hands were large and powerful. On the 13th Müller was visited by the Rev. Dr. Cappel, the Rev. Dr. Davis, and the Sheriffs, to all of whom he repeated the declaration of his innocence. In the evening he received another visit from Mr. Sheriff Dakin, who again exhorted him to tell the truth. He listened patiently to the exhortation, but repeated the declaration of his innocence, and as soon as this visitor was gone, he turned to one of the warders and said, “Man has no power to forgive sins, and there is no use in confessing them to him.” When Dr. Cappel saw him on the Monday morning and engaged with him in prayer, Müller still persisted in denying his guilt during the whole interview, which lasted until the hour appointed for the execution. At two o'clock cart-horses were led into the gaol yard through the outside barriers, and in about an hour they returned drawing the machinery for the gallows, which workmen began to place in front of the debtors' door.

The roar of the mob was stricken momentarily into silence, when St. Sepulchre's bell was first heard, but soon they clamoured thrice as loudly as before. Then the ordinary, the Rev. Mr. Davis, came slowly on the scaffold, reading the Burial Service; and after him the murderer. As he came steadily up the steps he raised his eyes, with a kind of curiosity, to the chain depending from the beam high above his head; and when he came below this object he cast his eyes up to it again with wonderful self possession. His bearing to the very last, though he was noticed to tremble somewhat when upon the scaffold, was calm and composed. When the Sheriffs had been led to where he awaited the summons to mount the drop, Müller was found standing by a warder in an attitude of real or assumed nonchalance.

The hangman appearing suddenly, pinioned his victim almost before he knew the executioner was at hand. The convict was then told that he might sit down, but he declined to do so; and for three or four minutes, while the final preparations were being made, he stood firmly, and drawn up to his full height. Dr. Cappel prayed with him in German, and entreated him to tell the truth; but all was to no purpose then. All preliminaries having been completed, and the solemn procession having reached the scaffold, a final effort was made by Dr. Cappel to obtain from Müller a disclosure of the truth. Dr. Cappel, when he stood under the gallows with Müller, the Rev. Mr. Davis being with him, spoke as follows:-

Dr. Cappel said: Müller, in a few moments you will stand before God. I ask you again, and for the last time, are you guilty or not guilty? –Müller answered: Not guilty. 

Dr. Cappel: You are not guilty?–Müller: God knows what I have done.

Dr. Cappel: God knows what you have done? Does He also know that you have committed this crime?—Müller: Yes; I have done it.

It is probable that if the hangman had not been so prompt in withdrawing the drop bolt, Müller would have made a much fuller confession, and that his tenacious hope of reprieve having at last given way, he would, perhaps, have made some statement as to how the struggle took place which resulted in the murder. It was only by the narrowest chance that the culprit had time to say what he did, for the important words were almost choked in the uttering. Only the little group under the beam could hear what words were uttered. It appeared as though the last appeal of the German minister was received by Müller with an intensity of feeling. Dr. Cappel bent forward with out stretched hands, and with his face close to that of the unhappy criminal. Through the white cap, which hardly came even with the jaw, the lips could be seen moving, and while Dr. Cappel was thus listening the drop fell. Dr. Cappel was actually leaning forward and listening when the body went down. The two clergymen were left for the moment in close contiguity to the dying man.

Sir George Grey received the following official communication from the Sheriffs of London:—

“Gaol of Newgate, 14th day of November, 1864. “To the Right Hon. Sir George Grey, Bart.

“SIR,-By direction of the Sheriffs I have the honour to acquaint you that the prisoner Müller has at the last moment, just before the drop fell, confessed to the German minister of religion attending him, that he was guilty of the deed for which he suffered. - I have the honour to remain, Sir, your obedient servant,

“Septimus Davidson (one of the Under-Sheriffs).”

Great efforts had been previously made by the prisoner's countrymen in London, who were embodied in a society called the “German Protection Society,” to obtain a reprieve for him, and it is probable that the expectation of their success had much influence in inducing the wretched man to delay to the latest moment the confession of his guilt. The King of Prussia and one of the minor German Potentates, actually telegraphed to the Queen previously to the execution, to request her intervention to save Müller's life. His last words furnished a satisfactory refutation of the exaggerated statements and extravagant appeals made in his behalf.

The trial of Franz Müller for the murder of Mr Briggs.

The circumstances attending the assassination of Mr. Briggs on the North London Railway upon the 9th of July, the proceedings taken for the apprehension of the suspected murderer Müller, the pursuit of him across the Atlantic, his capture in New York, and delivery to the officers sent over from England to apprehend him; his return to England in custody, and his committal for trial, have been fully related in the order of their dates in the “Chronicle” of the present volume. The sequel of the trial will also be found in the same part of the work. It now remains to record the proceedings of the trial itself, an investigation which excited a higher degree of interest and more universal attention than almost any judicial inquiry of late years. The judges who presided on this occasion were the Lord Chief Baron (Pollock) and Mr. Baron Martin. The Solicitor-General (Sir R. P. Collier), Mr. Sergeant Ballantine, Mr. Hannen, Mr. Giffard, and Mr. Beasley were the counsel for the prosecution. The prisoner was defended by Mr. Sergeant Parry, Mr. Metcalfe, and Mr. Besley. The prisoner pleaded “Not Guilty,” and declined to avail himself of his privilege of claiming a mixed jury, electing to be tried by a jury of twelve Englishmen.

The case for the prosecution was ably and temperately stated by the Solicitor General, who explained to the jury the nature of the evidence, principally circumstantial, on which the Crown would rely, concluding his address in these terms:- “Undoubtedly the evidence in this case is what is called circumstantial evidence, but I would remind you that it is circumstantial evidence by which great crimes are most frequently detected. Murders are not committed in the presence of witnesses; and to require direct evidence of a murder would be to publish impunity to murderers. Direct testimony of personal identity is very liable to error, but there is a description of evidence which I may be allowed to call the evidence of facts, which cannot be false and cannot be mistaken. The main features of this case may really be summed up in a sentence - Mr. Briggs is robbed and murdered in a railway carriage; the murderer takes his watch, his chain, and his hat, and leaves his own hat; all the articles taken from the murdered man are found upon Müller, and he gives a false account of each of them. I venture to think that if these circumstances are proved, a stronger case of circumstantial evidence has rarely, if ever, been submitted to a jury. If, indeed, after hearing the whole case, you should entertain any reasonable doubt of his guilt, of course you will acquit him; but if, on the other hand, the evidence - I will not say amounts to actual demonstration, for actual demonstration is a species of proof not applicable to cases of this description - but leaves in your mind a firm and abiding conviction of the prisoner's guilt, I am sure you will not hesitate to discharge that duty which is cast upon you by your oaths.”

The following witnesses were then called:-

Mr. David Buchan, examined by Mr. Sergeant Ballantine.—I reside in Nelson square, Peckham, and I am a nephew of the late Mr. Briggs. Mr. Briggs was about sixty-nine years of age. On Saturday, the 9th of July last, I saw him at five o'clock. He dined with me at my house on that day. When he came he brought something with him. He had a black bag and a stick. He left about half-past eight. I accompanied him from my house to the Lord Nelson, in the Old Kent road, and saw him into the omnibus. He would get out at King William-street for the purpose of going to the Fenchurch-street station. When I parted with him he was in his full health and spirits. He wore a watch and chain, the chain being attached to a button-hole in the waistcoat. There was a small seal attached to the watch and two keys. In consequence of information I received I went next morning to his house. On the previous evening I noticed that he had a watch, as he referred to it before he left my house. When I went to his house on the Sunday morning he was still alive. That was between ten and eleven, but he was still insensible, and he remained so till he died. I left before he died. Cross-examined by Mr. Sergeant Parry.—I walked with Mr. Briggs to the Lord Nelson, in the Old Kent-road. The omnibus starts from that place.—Were you aware of any threats being held out by any one against Mr. Briggs? Not to my knowledge.—Have you heard your wife say so? I have heard her say so. Mrs. Buchan corroborated the evidence of her husband as to Mr. Briggs having dined at her house on the day of the murder.

Cross-examined.—I have heard of threats having been used against Mr. Briggs. I heard it through a third person. I understood the threats were from a person to whom Mr. Briggs had refused to lend money.

Thomas Fishbourne.—I am ticket-collector at the Fenchurch-street station, and mark the tickets of persons going by the North London Railway. For that purpose I stand at the bottom of the steps leading to the platform. I knew the late Mr. Briggs by sight. He was in the habit of travelling by the North London Railway. I saw him on the night of the 9th of July. He presented his ticket to me in the ordinary way at a quarter to ten o'clock at night. I heard of his death about twelve o'clock the next day, and went to his house and recognized him.

Harry Wernez.-I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Robarts, Curtis, and Co. On Saturday, the 9th of July, I went to the Hackney station of the North London Railway about ten o'clock in the evening. I was in company with Mr. Jones, who is a clerk in the same employment. Took a first-class ticket for Highbury. On the arrival of the train from Fenchurch-street I went to a first class carriage. I opened the door of the carriage; it was empty, and I and Mr. Jones got in. I sat on the right-hand side, with my face to the engine, about the centre of the carriage. Before the train started Mr. Jones called my attention to some blood on his hand. I immediately called the guard, who brought a light. We all got out. Two other persons had got into the carriage. The guard came with a light, and found a hat, a stick, and a black bag. The guard locked up the carriage, leaving those articles in it, and I got into another carriage.

Sidney Jones, also a clerk in the bank of Robarts, Curtis, and Co., said, I went with the last witness to the Hackney station on the night of the 9th of July, intending to go to Highbury. I got with him into a first-class carriage. On entering the carriage I saw a black bag on the left-hand side of the seat nearest the door. I took the opposite seat.

Benjamin Ames.—I am a guard on the North London Railway, and was guard on the train which left Fenchurch-street station at 9.50. It was five minutes late, and in consequence the tickets were not examined before we started. On arriving at the Hackney station my attention was called to one of the first-class carriages (No. 69). I got my hand-lamp and examined it. There was blood on the cushion of the seat nearest the engine, and also on the quarter-lights. I looked under the seat and found a hat, a stick, and a black bag. It was buttoned up and bloody. The hat produced is like the hat. There was no one in the carriage when I found these things. I locked the carriage up and it was forwarded to Chalk Farm station. It was there examined by Mr. Greenwood, and was taken to the Bow station, where it has remained ever since. Mr. Greenwood took charge of the hat, bag, and stick.

Cross-examined.—There was not a great deal of blood, but there were spots; there was the appearance of a hand having been wiped. The largest pool of blood was about the size of a sixpence. There were two or three. It was in a liquid state. I cannot give you the time we arrived at Hackney, but I can tell you when we left. We left Fenchurch-street at 9.50, and Hackney at 10.15. We left the Bow station at one minute past ten. I did not see Mr. Briggs at the Bow station. That night we were three minutes or three minutes and a half in going from the Bow station to Hackney Wick.

Re-examined.—There was also blood on the cushion of the off side, and also on the floor.

William King—I am a guard on the North London Railway. I brought up a train of fifteen carriages from the Hackney Wick station on the 9th of July. We have to go over a canal bridge between Hackney Wick and Bow. As we were passing over the bridge my attention was called by the driver to something on the line. I pulled up the train, and on going to the spot I found the body of a gentleman between the up and down lines. He was lying on his back, with his head towards Hackney. I assisted in taking him up and conveying him to a public-house opposite. He was alive.

Alfred Agan, the engine-driver of the train of which the last witness was guard, corroborated his evidence as to finding the body, and stated that the train left Hackney Wick at twenty minutes past ten. The body was found about half-way between the Hackney Wick and Bow stations.

Cross-examined.—Where the body was found the rails run on an embankment about eight or nine yards high.

Policeman Edward Duggan.-I was on duty in Birch-lane, Bow, about twenty minutes past ten on the 9th of July. In consequence of the noise I heard I went up the embankment and on the line. I saw several persons carrying a gentleman. I assisted to take him into the Mitford Castle public-house. I searched him, and found in his left-hand trowsers pocket four sovereigns and some keys, and the half of a first-class railway ticket. In his right-hand trowsers pocket I found 10s. 6d. in silver and copper, and some more keys; also a silver snuff-box, and letters and papers, and on one of his fingers I found a diamond ring. There was a gold fastening to his waistcoat. I could not undo it. His shirt was crumpled, and there was a black spot on it. I have measured the distance from Bow station to the spot where the body was found—it is 1434 yards, and from the Hackney Wick station 740 yards.

Francis Toulmin.—I am a medical practitioner, and member of the Royal College of Surgeons. I knew the deceased, and was in the habit of attending him. He was about seventy years of age. Some time before he was murdered he had an attack of erysipelas, but had recovered. I was sent for on the morning of the 10th of July, between two and three o'clock, to attend him; he was groaning and unconscious. Nothing whatever could be done. He died at a quarter before twelve at night. I made a post-mortem examination on the Tuesday following, in the presence of other medical men. The cartilage of the left ear was severed by a jagged wound. About an inch anterior to that wound was a deeper wound. Over the temporal muscle was a contused wound; and there were as many as four incised wounds. There was one near the crown. The others were about three-quarters of an inch, having a direction from the front to behind. Upon the removal of the scalp the skull was found to be extensively fractured. The fissures extended in various directions. In the centre a portion of the skull, an inch in breadth, was separated entirely. There was an effusion of blood between the scalp and the skull. I cannot account for the wounds on the top of the head except they were inflicted with a blunt instrument used with considerable force. The wounds at the back of the ear I believe also to have been caused by a blunt instrument. There was no wound about the head which could be attributed to a sharp instrument.

Cross-examined.—There were five or six wounds altogether. The contused wound on the temple might have arisen from a fall. The incised wound on the crown was three inches long by half an inch in breadth, or not quite so much. Mr. Briggs's height was about five feet eight inches, and I should say he weighed between eleven and twelve stone. I should say not more than twelve stone.

Mr. Breardon, surgeon, living in the Bow-road, stated that he was the first surgeon called in. He found Mr. Briggs in a lower room of the inn on a table; had him removed to an upper room. He had a jagged wound across the left ear; in the front of the same ear there was another jagged wound. Above the same ear there was also a swelling, and there were two deep wounds on the top of the head. At the time he thought the wounds on the side of the head were to be attributed to a fall, and those on the top of the head to blows from some blunt instrument. Was with him all night till last witness came. At six in the morning he examined the carriage at Chalk Farm station. He saw blood on the near side of the panel of the door, on the iron step, and on the wooden platform or step, and on the wheel of the carriage. He found a link of a chain on the seat of the carriage.

Mr. Cooper, surgeon, who was also called in to see Mr. Briggs, likewise described the nature of the wounds at the top of the head, and said he thought the wounds at the top of the head were caused by a blunt instrument, and that the wound by the ear was caused by a stone when he fell out of the carriage.

George Greenwood, station-master of the Chalk Farm station of the North London Railway, stated that on Saturday night, the 9th of July, his attention was called to a first-class carriage at the Chalk Farm station. He took a bag, a hat, and a walking-stick from the carriage. They were the same as were now produced. The lining of the hat was torn.

Police-constable Lewis Lambert proved receiving the hat, stick, and bag from the last witness on the afternoon of the 10th of July. He took them to Mr. Briggs's house in Clapton-square, where they owned the stick and bag, but not the hat. He handed the articles over to Inspector Kerrissey.

Mr. Briggs, jun., said he could not own the hat, and that he knew nothing of it.

Walter Kerrissey, Inspector of the K division of police, produced the hat, bag, and stick which he received from the witness Lambert. On the 11th of July he handed over the hat to Inspector Tanner. On the morning of the 10th of July he went to the Bow Railway station about ten o'clock. Saw a railway carriage, No. 69. The handle of the off side of the carriage was bloody; he meant the off side supposing the carriage was going in the direction of Hackney. Also found blood in the inside, on the cushion, on the front part of the carriage, and likewise on the near window; a little blood on the off window, a little on the off foot-board outside, on the step, and on the panel of the carriage outside. He afterwards went to Mr. Briggs's house, in Clapton-square. Arrived there about eleven o'clock. Mr. Briggs was then alive but insensible. He observed on his waistcoat a hook fastened on the third button-hole. He now produced it. Mr. Thomas Briggs gave it to him on the Tuesday; he saw him take it off the waistcoat. He also produced a ring he received from Police-sergeant Prescott. It was a ring of a kind commonly called a jump ring. He also produced a gold chain, with seal and two keys attached to it, which he had received from Mr. Death.

Cross-examined.—I had directions from Sir Richard Mayne to go to New York on the 22nd of July. Up to that time I had been making inquiries respecting this case. I know a person named Thomas Lee. He was not examined before the coroner in my presence. The first reward was offered, I think, about the 11th of July; it was 200l.; 100l. by the Government, and 100l. by the bank. Afterwards the North London Railway Company offered another 100l. I cannot say how soon after; less than a week. The fact of the rewards being offered was placarded. The handle of the door was bloody. There was no blood on Mr. Briggs's hand.

Dr. Letheby deposed that he had made an examination of the railway carriage No. 69, and of the articles handed to him, which were stated to have been found in it. He examined the carriage on the 26th of July. He found blood on one of the cushions. It had all the characteristics of human blood. It was in the centre of the cushion, and the cushion was on the left-hand side of the carriage. There was also blood on the glass on the left-hand side of the carriage immediately over the cushion. It was blood that was living when it was placed there, and it contained particles of brain matter. It was in the shape of two large spots, and appeared to have been splashed by a blow upon a surface containing a little blood. The splashes were almost the size of a sixpence. If a person had been sitting at one side of the carriage, and struck on the head, that effect would have been produced. On the opposite cushion there were about thirty drops of blood, small. There were two drops of blood on the next cushion, on the same side, and a spot also on the other. There was blood on all the four cushions. I examined the door and the handle. There were spots of blood outside the door and on the wheel. I examined the stick which has been produced to me. There was blood on it to about six inches from the top. It was a thin layer, and on a large surface, but in quantity it was not much.

Cross-examined.—I used chemical tests, and I used the microscope.. The microscope is the surest test.

John Death.-I am a jeweller, at 55, Cheapside. I first saw the prisoner at the bar on Monday, the 11th of July. He came into my shop just before ten o'clock in the morning. I was called into the shop by my brother, who handed me a chain, and said the customer wished to part with that in exchange. My brother asked me to value it. The chain produced is the chain. I examined the chain closely with a magnifying glass. I weighed it, and said it was worth 31. 10s. He finally accepted that, and said, “I want one at the same cost.” I selected a chain at 31. 15s. He made some objection to that chain, and he then said he would take it if I would give it to him at the same price. That I said I could not do, and I then looked in my stock and selected one at 3l. 5s. ; I showed him it, and he promptly accepted that chain. I asked my brother for a box, and I put it in the box and made a parcel for it. After a moment's pause I said, “What will you take for the other 5s.?” and he said, “A ring.” I showed him one, and he took it. The box produced is of the same kind as that I put the chain in. I sent a letter the same afternoon to the police, and subsequently accompanied Inspector Kerrissey to New York.

Cross-examined.—The prisoner saw me weighing a chain. Only a show-case parted us. I had never seen the prisoner in the shop to my knowledge.

Mrs. Blythe.—I am the wife of George Blythe, and reside at 16, Park-terrace, Old Ford-road. I know the prisoner at the bar. He lodged with us for about seven weeks. Those seven weeks ended on the 14th of July. He occupied the first floor back, and took his meals with us. His occupation was that of a tailor. He was in the habit of leaving our house at half-past seven. I remember the morning of Saturday, the 9th of July. I saw the prisoner that morning. He went out that morning, and I had no reason to expect him home at any particular hour. I sat up till eleven o'clock. He had not then come home—Had you any reason for sitting up for him? No.—Had he a latch-key? Yes.—Did you hear him come in? No.—Did your husband go to bed at that time also? Yes— What time the next morning did you see the prisoner? Between eight and nine. He breakfasted with us.-Did he stop at home that day? Yes.—In the evening did he go out with you and your husband? Yes.—And came back? Yes.—He spent the day with you on Sunday? Yes.—On Monday morning at what time did you see him? In the morning. He breakfasted with us, and left the house about eight o'clock.-At what time did you see him again that day? Between eight and nine in the evening.—Had you any conversation with him on the Monday evening? Not any thing particular—Did he spend any time in your house with you? Yes.—Did he show you anything? A gold Albert chain.—Is that the chain he showed you [producing a chain]? It was similar to that.—Did he say any thing about the chain? No.—Did he remain any time with you after that? Till Thursday morning.—When he came to live with you did he bring anything with him? A hat-box. That is the hat-box; the name is Walker, and the address is on it.—Did you find that hat-box in the prisoner's room after he left? Yes.—And did you deliver it to one of the police-constables? Yes.

Cross-examined.—He passed the Sunday as usual, and there was nothing particularly different in his manner on that day. Though he lodged with us only seven weeks I have known him twelve months. We have always known him as a quiet, well-behaved, inoffensive young man. He always took his meals with us.-Did the prisoner wear the same dress on the Sunday that he wore on Saturday? Yes.—Did he wear the same dress on Monday when he went out that he wore on the Saturday and Sunday? I cannot recollect whether he wore his light or dark trowsers.-Did he wear the same coat? Yes.—You have seen it; it is in the possession of Tanner? Yes. I don't know in whose possession it is.-A coat has been produced which you recognize as the one he wore? Yes.—Is that the coat he had on on Saturday, Sunday, and Monday? I believe so-You are not sure as to the trowsers? No.—Are you sure of the trowsers on the Sunday? Yes.—They were the same as he wore on Saturday? Yes.—Are you aware the prisoner was lame? Yes.—Which foot was it he was lame of? I believe the left foot.—Did he wear a slipper on Saturday? Yes.—Have you given it to the police? Yes. (The slipper was produced, and identified as being the one he wore.)—That is the right foot, is it not? Yes.—Your impression is that it was the left foot? Yes.—Whether left or right, are you quite sure he was lame, and went out with a slipper on? Yes.—Did you give that slipper up to Mr. Tanner? To Mr. Superintendent Tiddy. That is the slipper that was left at my house. He had been lame from the Thursday.—I believe you knew pretty well about all the affairs of this young man. He was confidential with you, was he not? Yes. I did not know whether he was going on Monday to the docks. I knew of his intention to go to America a fortnight previous to the 14th of July.—When he left did he tell you in what vessel he was going? Yes, the “Victoria.”—Did he give you any address in New York? No.—You knew he was going to New York? Yes.—We produce a letter from the pilot. Is that the letter you received from him? Yes.—Have you the envelope there?

Mr. Avery (the clerk).-The envelope is addressed to Mr. Blythe, 16, Park terrace, Old Ford-road, London. The letter is dated, “On the sea, July 16, in the morning.” It then proceeds:—“Dear friends, I am glad to confess I cannot have a better chance than I have. If the sun shines nice and the wind blows fair, as it is at the present moment, every thing will go well. I cannot write any more; only I have no postage. You will be so kind to take the letter in.”

Sergeant Parry.—Where was the letter posted?

Mr. Avery.—It has the postmark Worthing, July 16, and the London post mark, July 16.

Sergeant Parry, to witness.--Do you know the prisoner's age? Twenty-three or twenty-four.—Did you wash for him? Not till the last week-What did you wash for him the last week? Six new shirts.

Re-examined by the Solicitor-General.-I was walking with him from six to nine o'clock on the Sunday morning.

Mr. Baron Martin.—Was it a pair of slippers that he wore? Yes.—He went out with one of them? Yes, the one he wore on his bad foot.—Was it from six to nine or seven to nine you walked out on Sunday? From six to nine.

George Blythe, sworn, examined by Mr. Giffard.—I knew the prisoner, who lodged at my house, and usually we went from home together, some times at half-past seven, and sometimes at a quarter to eight.—Did you leave home together from the 7th to the 14th of July? No; I left him at home every morning, and went to town at my ordinary time.—We have heard that on Sunday, the 10th, he took a walk with you and your wife to Victoria Park? —Yes; to Victoria Park.-Did he come back with you? Yes.—On the Monday evening did you see the prisoner when he came back from town? No; he came home after me.—Did he and a man named Haffa come in together? Yes.—Did you notice the chain he had? I noticed that he had a new chain.—Had you noticed whether he had been wearing a chain for some time before? No; he had not.—But before that, two or three weeks previously, had you seen him wearing a chain? Yes.—Is that, the chain that he used to wear on the previous two or three weeks, the same chain he wore on Monday evening, or a different one? A different one.

Cross-examined.—He wore a slipper on the Sunday morning.—Were you walking all the time when you went to Victoria Park, or did you sit down in the park? We were walking all the time.—You saw him on the Saturday and Sunday. Was his dress the same or different? It was the same.—Did you see him on Monday? No; I went to my work.--Do you know this coat? This is like the one he wore. —What character did he bear? That of a quiet inoffensive young man.—And of a humane disposition? Yes. When he left he told me he was going by the “Victoria” to New York, and that the vessel was lying in the London Docks. He told me he was going to America a fortnight before he went. It was publicly known to his friends that he was going.

Mrs. Repsch, sworn, examined by the Solicitor-General-You are the wife of Mr. Repsch, a tailor? Yes.—Are you English?—English, born of German parents.--When did you first know the prisoner? Nearly two years ago.—He worked as a tailor for Mr. Hodgkinson, did he not? Yes, to the end of July.—And after that time was he in any employment? No.—Did he come to your house from time to time? Yes.—Were you intimate? On friendly terms.--Do you recollect whether he had a watch and chain of his own? Yes.—When was it you saw the watch and chain last on him? I don't recollect when he had it. I believe he had it when he was working for Mr. Hodgkinson. He told me afterwards that he had pledged the watch and chain. I believe that they were pledged separately, and he had not got them out by the 9th of July.—Was Müller at your house that Saturday? Yes, from eleven or twelve till evening.—And how long did he remain? Till about seven o'clock. He wore a slipper that day, but I don't recollect whether he came in it. He was in the habit of taking off his boots and wearing slippers— Do you recollect whether he left with a slipper on ? I did not see him leave. There was a left slipper remaining after he left, not the right slipper. I saw the boots where he changed them and put on his slippers. When he left both the boots had gone. He had taken both boots and one slipper.—Do you recollect his changing his clothes? Yes; he had green and black trowsers that day, and he changed them for an older working pair. He changed again when he left the house, and left behind him the working pair.—When did you see him next? On Monday morning, between ten and eleven. When he returned on Monday morning had he the same pair of trowsers? He had a light pair on-Had he a pair of dark ones on when he left? Yes. On Monday morning he came in both boots.-Did he show you a chain that morning? He did.—You had better look at chain No. 2 [produced]. Is that the description of chain? I believe it to be the same.—Did he say any thing about it? He said he had paid 3l. 15s. for it in the docks that morning. He also had a plain gold ring, which he said he had paid 7s.6d. for at the same place at which he had bought the chain. My husband saw him as well as myself—Did you on that Monday morning observe any thing with respect to his hat? I observed that he had a new hat on his head which I had never seen before.—Did you say any thing about it to him? I said he was very extravagant in having a new hat, and he said his old one was smashed and thrown into the dust-hole.—Do you remember your husband asking him anything? He asked him what he gave for it, and he replied that he gave 14s. 6d., and my husband said it looked more like a guinea hat.—Had you observed before that what sort of a hat Müller wore? Yes; a plain black hat with a merino rim, and it had a striped lining.—What kind of stripe? A broad blue stripe, edged with black and white.—What drew your attention to the lining? Its being peculiar. I never saw such a lining before. —How came you to notice it? Because of its being a particular lining.—Do you know whether he was in the habit of putting any thing behind the lining? I have seen him put letters there. I gave a description of the hat to the police. —(The hat was produced and handed to the witness.) Look at that hat.—To the best of my belief that is the hat; both the rim and lining are the same. They correspond with what I have seen.—Have you ever heard him say anything about the hat? Yes, he said that Mr. Matthews, the cabman, made him a present of it.—When did he tell you that? Either in November or December the previous year.—Had you noticed Müller wear any other hat beside that? Never.—Did you ever see it in a hat-box? I did. He brought it in a hat-box to my house. (The hat-box was produced and identified.)—How long did they remain there? He took them away again after showing them to me.—On Saturday, the 9th of July, what coat had Müller on? Well, sir, to the best of my belief it was the old one. —Do you recollect whether Müller had a coat with a velvet collar? Yes, an overcoat.—Do you recollect whether he had that coat on on the 9th of July? He had not. (The two pairs of trowsers being handed to the witness, she identified the light pair as the pair Müller had on on Monday morning, and the dark pair as the pair that he used to wear when he came there.)

Cross-examined.—Müller left about half-past seven on the Saturday evening. He left with a person of the name of Haffa.-Had he a slipper on on the whole of Saturday? Yes.—You don't know whether he left with a slipper or not? No.— You produce a slipper ? Yes, one left at my house on Saturday.—He had taken the right slipper away? Yes.—But whether he had it on or not you cannot say? No. —You understood he had been lame on the right foot since Thursday? Yes.—Is he rather a vain and boastful man? Well, he was rather fond of finery.—And of showing things that he had? Yes.—Used he to romance a little, as it is called, now and then? I cannot say.—Did he tell you that Mr. Hodgkinson was sending him out to New York? He told me he had told Mrs. Blythe that, but we knew different.—And that he was to have 150l. a year? He did not tell me that, but that he told Mrs. Blythe so.-You seem to have been constantly looking into his hat, and having it in your hand. How was that? I often moved it out of my way, and then I looked at it.—But how came you to have it so often in your hand? I don't know. I only had it in my hand when he put it in my way.—My friend asked you to describe it. Did you not see it at the Police Court and before the coroner? Yes I did.—You had seen it twice before, then? Yes.—Do you know a man named Haffa? I do.—How long have you known him? twelve months and more ? Yes.—Has he been in the habit of coming to your house? He has been in the habit of working for Mr. Hodgkinson.—How long had you known Müller? Nearly two years.--Do you know Haffa? Yes.—Is he in the habit of constantly coming to your house?—Yes. What is the colour of the lining of his hat? I don't know.—Have you other male friends coming there? Yes.—What is the colour of the lining of their hats? I cannot say.—You seem to have been only looking into Müller's hat? Well, the thing struck my fancy. I may have looked into it thirty or forty times.—Do you know a cabman named John Matthews? Yes.—How long have you known him? About six years ago I first met him.—Does your husband know him? Yes.—How long after you heard of this murder did you see Matthews? Not till after he came from New York.-Were you in the habit of visiting Matthews, and did the families visit? I think I went there about twice, not more.—Did you know that the prisoner a month or two before bought some new clothes? Yes; a pair of trowsers.--Do you remember about that time asking the prisoner to lend you 5s.? Yes, he did.—Did he not say that he could not do so because he was going to buy a new hat? I do not remember.—You are sure of that, are you? Yes; he did lend the money.—Did you not say just now that you did not remember? And did you not say, “Pooh, pooh, you can buy a hat next week?” I do not remember.—I think you said he had the same dress on on Monday except the trowsers? I cannot say whether he had a velvet collar coat on or no.

Re-examined by the Solicitor General.—How long is it since you borrowed the 5s.? I do not know, but it was paid upon some settlement.—Did he say any thing at all about a hat? No, not at that time.—Was it at the time he bought the hat new in the bandbox? After that.—Did you ever lend him money? Frequently I have lent him a trifle, and he has paid me back.--Do you recollect whether you lent him any the last week or fortnight? I don't.—You have been asked a good deal as to the colour of the hats of other persons; now take that hat in your hand. Did you ever see in all London a hat with a lining of that colour? No, I never did.—You say he brought it to you new. Did you make any remark: I said, “What a peculiar lining !” I believe I only saw him put letters behind the lining once. I pledged the coat for him, because he said he had not money to pay his passage.—Did he ask you to pawn it for him? Yes.

The Chief Baron.—When? Witness.-On the Wednesday after the Saturday, on the 13th July. 

By the Solicitor General.—I pawned it for 6s., and gave the money to Müller. —You spoke of a new pair of trowsers—a dark pair—which he took off and put on another? Yes.—Did you see him with them on again? No.

Arthur Repsch, husband of last witness.-The prisoner Müller used to work at my shop, and worked on Saturday, the 9th of July. He had an old pair of trowsers on, in which he was accustomed to work at our shop.–Do you know whether, when he went out on Saturday evening, those trowsers remained there? They remained behind.—Do you know of a pair of trowsers of his with green spots? You knew he had another pair? Yes; a green mixture.—When did you see him with them on? I cannot say—You remember the murder of Mr. Briggs; did you ever see those trowsers after that day? I cannot say.—He went to your shop on the Monday? Yes.—Did he say anything? He said he had got a new hat, and he also had a chain and ring upon him, which he said he had bought in the docks.-Did he say anything about his hat? He said he had worn it two or three times on Sundays, and had bought it about two months before.— About the chain you said he had, where did he take it from ? From his waistcoat pocket.—Was any thing attached to it except the ring? The ring was not attached, it was on his finger.—Did you make any observation about the value of the hat? I said it was worth a guinea; he told me the price was 14s. 6d.; that is why I said it was worth a guinea.

Cross-examined.—Have you seen him wear the trowsers and coat he had on on Monday before? Yes.—Was it not you who said, “Why, you have got a new hat?” No, I did not say so; my missus said, “Why, you have got a new hat." —Did you say, when asked to describe what he had on on Saturday, that he had on dark trowsers, grey and all colours, very old, and with brown stripes? Yes, I did.—On the Saturday ? Yes.—I am not speaking of the trowsers he left behind him after he had left. Do you mean he was wearing them when he went away? No, I did not see him go out.—Did he come early on Monday morning? No; between ten and eleven.—Did you not ask him to come with Haffa to help him to cut out some people's work? No.—Did you ask him to come early to fetch the neck ties for Haffa? No, that was on the Tuesday morning.—You knew he was going to America? Yes.—I believe you gave him leave to work up the clothes for going out at your shop? Yes, I did. I went with him to the “Victoria.”— Every one who knew him knew, I suppose, that he was going to America? Certainly—Did you know John Matthews? Yes; I have known him eight or ten years.-How soon did you see him after the murder? I think the first time I saw him was at Hackney.—When was that, at the inquest? At the inquest.—Before or after he had given information to the police? After the information. Before the Saturday of which we have been speaking, I can't say that I saw Müller for a month. Two months before that I know he bought some new clothes and a hat. He never had to come to work on Sundays. I had occasionally seen him on Sundays.

Re-examined.—I had seen him on week days, but had not noticed his hat. I  described to the magistrate some clothes.—Are these them? (some clothes handed to the witness.) Witness-These are working clothes, and that pair of trowsers are those I described as old, and of different colours.

John Haffa, sworn, examined by Mr. Hannen.—I am a German tailor, and knew the prisoner twelve months. I remember seeing the prisoner on the 9th of July at Mr. Repsch's, between six and seven o'clock. He was there before me, and left between seven and eight in the evening.—Did he say where he was going? Yes, to see his sweetheart.—Did you see him on Monday? Yes.—Did he show you anything? Yes.—What? A chain.—Did he tell you any thing about it? Yes, he said he gave 3l. 15s. for it.—Did you accompany him to his lodgings that night? Yes. –Did you remain there? Yes.—I believe you took his lodgings? I did.—Did you make him a loan? I lent him 12s. I gave some things to Mr. Repsch to pawn to raise that money.—Did the prisoner give you any thing? Yes, the duplicate of a gold chain. (No. 2, the chain given by Mr. Death in exchange, produced.)Witness.-I afterwards got a ticket from Repsch for a coat that had been pawned.—When did you get the coat? The day before he came back from America.-What did you do with it? I sent it to Scotland-yard the same day I took it out.

Cross-examined.—I was well aware of Müller's going to America. He spoke of it as soon as he came to Mr. Hodgkinson's, and made up his mind to it before he left. I knew he was lame. I have seen him in possession of money, both gold and silver.—You cannot say how much? -No, but I believe it was for the passage. It was a week before.—You have known him twelve months? Yes.—Did he bear the character and disposition of a kind and humane young man? Yes, always.- Have you lodged with him? He has slept with me once or twice.—When he said he was going to see his sweetheart, did he say he was going to Camberwell? No, but I understood him so.-Did he say his sweetheart's name was Eldred? Yes.— What time did he leave on Monday? About a quarter to eight. He had a slipper on, and he told me that a letter-carrier's cart had hurt his foot.—After the Monday did you assist him in making up his passage-money again? Yes, I did.—Did he tell you what had become of that money? No; I did not ask him.—Did you know of his going to the docks several times? From what he said to me I did.— Are you quite sure he did not tell you that he had spent that money in purchasing a watch and chain at the docks? I cannot say that he said so to me. I believe he has said so.--Do you know Mr. Death, the jeweller in Cheapside? I did not before this case came on.—Do you know of Müller's having a gold chain repaired in November, or that he had one at all? I gave him a chain myself to sell.—Did he sell it? No, he did not: he returned it to me.

Re-examined by the Solicitor-General.—When was this transaction about the chain? Some months ago; but he brought it back to me.—When did you see him with some money? A week before he left.—Did you count it?—No.

Mr. Robert Death.-I have a recollection of a person coming into my shop on the morning of the 11th of July.—Do you recollect whether it was the prisoner? I believe the prisoner to be the person.

Cross-examined.—I do not remember a person calling in June about a chain to be repaired.—Look at that chain; there is a link broken which has been repaired. (Chain No. 3, the chain the prisoner stated was his own, produced.) Witness.-I never saw this chain before, I am positive; it is so peculiar in its make.—Have you any body else in the shop?—We have only a boy in the shop besides my brother and myself—Do you remember the dress the prisoner had on? The coat was dark-Did you notice the trowsers?—My first impression was that the trowsers were light, but I was not positive about that.—Do you employ a number of jewellers, or one? One jobbing jeweller.—What is the address of the jeweller you would have employed in November? He lives at 14, Bartholomew square, but we often send chains that are brought to us to repair to the chain maker's.

John Henry Glass said, I am in the employment of Messrs. Hodgkinson. I have been so for some time. I have known the prisoner about four years. I do not know how long he was in the employment of Mr. Hodgkinson. On Tuesday, the 12th of July last, he came to me in Mr. Hodgkinson's shop at four o'clock in the afternoon. He offered me a gold watch. He said he wished to get some one to buy it, as he wanted money to go to America. He said he had got a chain pledged with a pawnbroker for ll. He said he wanted to pawn the watch and chain together, and get 4l. 10s. The watch produced is the watch he showed me. It is his own watch he had been in the habit of wearing. He said he would come again the next morning. He did come next morning at nine o'clock. We went together to a pawnbroker's named Barker. I forget the name of the street. I went into a pawnbroker's and there took a chain out of pawn. This chain [taking it in his hand] is the chain in question. I paid ll. to take it out of pawn. We then went together to Mr. Cox's, Prince's-street, Leicester-square. I there pawned the watch and chain for 4l. Müller took the money and I took the ticket. The ticket was in my name. I gave the prisoner 5s. for the ticket. I gave the ll. for the chain. I paid ll. 5s. altogether. We then went together in an omnibus as far as the Bank, where we parted. He said he was going to the London Docks.

Cross-examined.—You say that you have known Müller for four years? Yes. —Has he been in this country the whole of that time? Yes.—Of what part of Germany is he a native? Saxe-Weimar.—Are you a foreman or ordinary work man? A journeyman.—During the four years you have known this young man has he borne the character of a kindly and well-disposed man? Yes, as long as I have known him.—And you have had full opportunities, from seeing and associating with him, of judging of his character for humanity and kindness? Yes,—And you say that is the character he has borne? Yes.—Was he in the habit of pledging his watch and chain? I do not know.—I believe you saw him with some money? I did not.—On the 9th of July did you see any money in his possession? No.—What wages did he earn? I don't know. I am a piece worker, and can earn 30s. or 36s. a week.

Henry Smith.-I am in the service of Mrs. Barker, a pawnbroker in Houndsditch. On the 22nd of June I took in pledge an Albert chain. I have the ticket, and produce it.—From whom did you take it? I believe from the prisoner.— Have you seen the chain since? I have seen it this morning [chain handed to witness]. That is the chain. I advanced 11. upon it. The ticket got damaged, and I renewed it on the 12th of July. It was redeemed on the 13th July, the next day. Müller redeemed it.

Alfred Wey.—I was formerly assistant to Mrs. Barker. On the 13th June a watch was pawned. I have seen it since, and identified it. I received the watch in pledge from Müller. I advanced 21. upon it. It was redeemed on the 12th July by Müller, I believe.

Charles Young.—I am assistant to Mr. Annis, pawnbroker, 121, Minories. On the 12th of July I took a gold chain from a man. I have got the ticket. The man gave the name of Miller—John Miller. I advanced 1l.10s. He gave as his address, 52, Jewry-street, Aldgate. I afterwards handed the chain to the police. 

Jonathan Matthews, examined by the Solicitor-General, said, I am a cab driver. I know the prisoner Müller. Before the day of the murder, on the 9th of July last, I had known him two years and some few months.-How did you become acquainted with him? By his working with a brother-in-law of mine, and by his coming to my house to dinner with him.—You have known him from that time? Yes.—Has he visited you at your house? Oh, yes; two or three times a week he came to my house.—Have you been to see him Oh, yes.—Do you remember anything which passed between you on the subject of a hat towards the end of last year I do.—At what time? The latter end of November or the beginning of December.—What was it that took place between you and Müller? I had a new hat, and he came to dine with me on Sunday. He saw me with the hat on, and he said he would like to look at it. He looked at it, and put it on his head, and said it was too small for him. He asked what I gave for it, and I told him 10s. 6d. He said he would like one like it, and I told him I would get him one. —Was any thing said about the size of the hat? I said, “If I get one which is too easy for me, it would suit you.” He said, “Yes, very nicely.” I got one at the same shop. I mean the shop of Mr. Walker, in Crawford-street, Marylebone.— Do you recollect the lining of the hat? I can recollect it being a kind of striped lining. He ordered it on Friday, and I went to Mr. Walker's on Saturday, and got the hat. I took it away with me in a hat-box. I kept it until the Sunday week following, when Müller came for it. I gave him the hat, and he took it away with the box. I paid 10s. 6d. for the hat. He did not pay me again.-Did he settle in any way for it? Yes, he made me a waistcoat in return—the waistcoat I now wear, a black one.—Did Müller ever wear the hat you bought? Yes, very frequently.—Can you tell me the latest time you saw him wearing that hat? I should say about a fortnight before the murder. (Hat produced.)—What is your belief as to the hat? I believe it is the hat I purchased. It corresponds with it. Before I left the shop I had it turned up a little extra, like one of my own. It was turned up whilst I was there. On one occasion afterwards I noticed a little curl in the brim, and I asked him if he had done it up. He said, “No." The rim corresponds with the one I bought. All my hats are like that. If I buy a hat, I prefer merino under the rim; it does not become so soon greasy.—Do you remember seeing at your house a small jeweller's box with the name of “Death" on it? Yes.—Is that like the box [the box was handed up to witness]? That is like it.—When did you notice that? On Tuesday morning.—Subsequently you saw some hand-bill, and you gave information to the police?—I did.

Cross-examined by Mr. Sergeant Parry.—I understand that you identify this hat [the hat said to be Müller's] because certain portions of the rim are turned? Not only by that; it is one thing.—You are quite certain of that? Yes.—And you had the rim turned in the shop? Yes.—Was your own hat exactly like it? As near as they could possibly get it.—Did you not state before the magistrate that one of the means of identifying the hat was that three weeks prior to the 9th of July the rim of the prisoner's hat was turned up at one part more than another, and you told the prisoner so? I did.—Did you ever mention before today that you had these two edges turned up at your own request at the shop where it was bought? No.—Did you before the coroner say that you noticed and remarked to the prisoner that one side was turned up more than usual, and that it might have been done by his lifting it on his head? I did.—Now, as to your own hats. Can you tell me how many hats you have bought? I cannot.—Can you tell me how many hats you have bought within the last six or twelve months before the 9th of July? I could not.—What became of the hat which was just like this?— I could not say, but I think I left it at one of the hatters' shops where I have bought hats since. I believe I did so.--Where did you buy the hat you now wear? At Murray's, in Oxford-street.—Did you leave your old hat there? No.—Have you not stated that you left it at Mr. Down's, in Long Acre, three weeks before the 9th July? I stated I left it there, but I could not say as to the time.—When did you buy one in Oxford-street? Two days before I went to America.--When did you buy the hat at Down's? I had two hats. I cannot say from which place I bought it, whether from Down, in the Strand, who made it for me, or Down in Long Acre. I had so many I cannot bring it to mind.—Did you not say, “I purchased the next hat at about June, at Down's, in Long Acre; I gave 5s. 6d. for it, and I left the other one at Down's?” I did.—And that is not true? No, because it was a longer time ago.

The Lord Chief Baron.—When did the witness go to America? Witness.-I left for America on the 20th of July.

Mr. Sergeant Parry.—It was a mistake to say that the next hat you purchased you bought at Down's, in Long Acre, in July, and that you left your old one there? Yes; I do not know how many hats I have bought.—Did you afterwards find that there was no such hatter as Down in Long Acre; that the shop was shut up three weeks before the time you speak of? Yes.—Have you altered your statement since then? I was surprised to hear his shop was shut up, I had so many hats of him. I made inquiries, and found it had been closed a fortnight or three weeks before this job.-Did any one assist you to find out that there was no such hatter as Down in Long Acre? I went with Clark, the inspector, to Long Acre.—And you found the shop did not exist? Yes.—Have you any idea whatever what you did with your last hat? No.—Do you ever throw your hats in the dust-hole? Sometimes.—I believe you have said you could not swear to the colour of the lining of Müller's hat? Yes.—Can you swear to the colour of the lining of your own hats? Not as to some of them.— When did you first hear of this murder? On Thursday or Friday in the week following.—Do you mean to say you had not heard of it before? Yes.—You had been out with your cab? Yes.—And yet you never heard of the murder? I did not hear of it.—You occasionally speak to your fellow-cabmen on the rank? I do.—Did you go into any public-house? I am not a public-house visitor. Perhaps once a day I may have gone in; that is all.—There is no harm in being in a public-house. Did you go into a public-house for refreshment? Yes.— Every day? Yes.—Do you take in a newspaper sometimes? I do.—Do you take any particular paper P Not any particular paper.—Do you take in any Sunday paper? Yes; occasionally Lloyd's.--Do you take a daily paper? Some times.—Did you see no newspaper from the 9th of July until the Thursday or Friday you speak of? No paper about the murder.—Did you not see any thing about the murder in large conspicuous letters over and over again before the Thursday? No.—Did you see no placards at the police-stations about it? No; I saw some placards at the latter end of the week, but I did not read them.— You knew Müller was going to America? Yes.—When did you give information to the police? On Monday, the 18th of July.—At that time did you know that Müller had gone in the Victoria sailing-ship for New York? Yes.—Did you know he was going to sail on the 14th? Yes; he told me so.-He came to your house to bid you and your family good-bye? Yes.—Can you tell me what you were doing on Saturday, the 9th of July? I find I was out with my cab. I did not know when I was examined before where I was.-Did you say before the coroner, “It is impossible for me to say where I was on Saturday, July 9. I was about with my cab, but I cannot say where?” I did say so, but I have since made inquiry.—Since you were examined before this inquiry? Yes.—You made inquiries with a view to give evidence here? I made inquiries to know where I was. I had lost my pocket-book and could not tell before. I have since found it.—You have made inquiries since you were examined before the coroner? Yes.—You have said that your master, Mr. Purkin, was sold out? He sold off—Then that is another mistake? Yes.—You said, “Mr. Purkin lived in Lisson-grove, and was sold up a week after the 9th of July.” That is a mistake in the depositions? Yes; he sold off—When did you first see Repsch after you gave information? At Bow-street.—You did not see him before you gave information to the police? No.—You are quite sure of that? Yes; not for years previously.—How long have you been a cabman? I have been licensed nine years, but there have been three or four years between some of the licences. —Have you been any thing else besides a cabman? I have been coachman in training-stables—that was twenty-three years ago.—Have you been a cabman since then? Yes. I have also been in business. I have had a small fly business. I was foreman to a Mr. Hubble, and to Mr. Langley, who has a cab business at Westminster.—Anything else? I have been a driver to the London General Omnibus Company.—You have, in fact, been a driver during the whole of the twenty-three years? Yes; I have taken an ostler's situation.—Have you ever been a coachman to a private gentleman? No.—Have you been insolvent? Never.—Bankrupt? No.—Were you in business at Brixton? Yes.—Did you fail? No. I was not making a living, I owed some money, and was not able to pay.—Are you still in that position? Yes.—Have you stated to some of your creditors that as soon as you get a portion of the reward you will settle with them? No.—Will you swear that? Yes.—Of course you expect a portion of the reward? I don't understand you.-You are the only person in court, Mr. Matthews, who does not. Do you expect a portion of this reward of 300l.? I leave that entirely, if I have done my duty, to the country.—Then you do expect a portion of it if you have done your duty? I have no expectation of any thing. I should have done the same thing if there had been no reward.—You have seen placards offering a reward of 300l. ? I have seen bills.-Now, do you not expect a portion of the reward? If I am entitled to receive it I shall expect it.—Have you ever said this—that if you had kept your mouth closed a little longer they would have given a reward of 500l. instead of 300l.” I never said those words or any thing like them. I said I was given to understand that on the morning of the coroner's inquest placards were being printed offering 500l.; but had it been only a shilling, I would have given the information.—That is a compliment to yourself, I did not ask for that. You were once convicted of a little, petty offence? For no theft.—What was it for? For absconding from my situation without giving notice.—Do you swear that? I do.—What situation was it you absconded from? I was conducting a coach business.-Why should you abscond from conducting a coach business? I made a little free, and got out for what they term a spree. I left the coach without any one to start it.—Were you convicted for that? I had twenty-one days because I could not pay.—Were you ever at Norwich in 1851? No.—Your name is Jonathan Matthews? Yes.— When were you at Norwich? In 1850–You were then in prison for twenty one days. Were you in prison for any thing else on any other occasion? No.— Were you tried before a jury? Yes.—What for a spree? Yes.—I never knew of a jury having any jurisdiction over that. You were tried by a jury for a spree in absconding from the coach-you drove? Yes; but the box was sent to my home, and they tried me for theft.—They did absolutely make a theft of it? Yes.—Were you not convicted of having feloniously stolen and carried away a posting-hood, value 8s., a pair of spurs, value 2s., and a padlock, value 6d. -That was brought in because they were in the box unbeknown to me.—You said that the lining in Müller's hat was the same as the lining in yours? Similar.— Did you not say that the lining in both hats was nearly alike? Yes; as nearly as possible.

Re-examined by the Solicitor-General.—I was imprisoned for twenty-one days in 1850; that is, fourteen years ago. I am now thirty-seven years old. I have not been in any trouble of that kind since. I gave information to the police on Monday, the 18th-How came you to give that information? I was at the Great Western Hotel, at Paddington, and when the horse was drinking, I saw a bill on the wall over. When I read the handbill I spoke to the waterman and then went immediately home and looked at a small box. The box produced is the one. I saw something also in the bill about the hat being bought in Crawford-street. Müller gave the box to my little girl when he came to my house. I knew the name of Death was upon it. I then went to the waterman and showed him the box. We both got into a cab and went to the Hermitage Police-station, at Paddington. I there saw Sergeant Steer and gave him the box. I also gave him a slip of paper with some of Müller's writing on it.— (Inspector Tanner produced the paper. It bore the name and address of Mrs. Blythe.)

Re-examination continued.—I subsequently went to America. I was examined before the coroner the day or the day after I came back.-You were then cross-examined as to where you had been on the Saturday of the murder. Had you then prepared yourself to give information on that point? I had not when asked by the coroner. I did not know precisely where I was. I had some little idea, but I did not know until I got home. I then inquired of the waterman and wrote to my employer on the subject. His answer has been produced.—From subsequent inquiries and communications you have received from your employers and others, are you able to tell us where you were that night? Yes; I was on the rank from seven until about eleven.—Where at? The Great Western Railway station. I did not have a fare during that time, and I then went home. I bought a joint of meat on my way home. Then I took the cab to the stable yard, and went home.—You were cross-examined a good deal about your hats. You are out at all times of the day and night, and you wear out many more hats than people who are mostly indoors? Yes; I have had upwards of nine or ten hats in one year. We are exposed to a good deal of rough weather, and I never wear a weather hat.—Subsequently to your former examination you made inquiries on the subject of your hat, and is what you have told us to-day correct or not? It is correct.—My learned friend has read to you a statement you made, that one part of the brim of Müller's hat was turned up a little more than the rest; I believe one part is still turned up a trifle more? Yes.—Is it a fact that there is a slight curl more on one side than on the other? Yes.—And that is altogether a distinct statement from your other statement, that both brims were turned up by the hatter at your request? Yes.—Did you call Müller's attention to the one brim being turned up more than when you bought the hat? Yes; I told him I thought he had had the hat done up, it looked so well, and that the brim had a greater curl than when it was new. The depositions of the witness, taken before the magistrate and coroner, were then read, and in some particulars did not entirely agree with his present testimony.

Eliza Matthews.-I am the wife of the last witness, and have known Müller rather better than two years. He came sometimes to our house. I was present when my husband bought a hat in November or December last year. He bought it at Walker's, in Crawford-street. It was turned up more at the side than my husband's. The one produced looks like the very same hat. My husband gave that hat to Müller a fortnight afterwards, so he told me. On the 11th of July Müller came to my house. I have four children. He came between two and three in the afternoon. He came to wish me good-bye, as he was going to New York. He stayed three or four hours. He said he was going out for Mr. Hodgkinson, and was to have 150l. a year. Müller said he met with an accident on Thursday—a light cart run over his foot. Whilst he was at my house he showed me a chain [No. 2). He took it off the button-hole of his waistcoat. I took it in my hand. I said I thought it was a good one, but it looked rather pale in colour. The chain produced [No. 2) is like the one he showed me. The jeweller's box he took from his pocket and gave my little girl. She is ten years old, and will be eleven in December. On Monday week afterwards my husband came home and asked for a box. The child played with it in the evening she received it, then it was put into a drawer. I noticed that Müller had a ring on. I looked at it, and he said his father sent it from Germany; it was a plain gold ring, with a cornelian head on it, like the one produced. He bade me good bye, but said he would come on the Tuesday or Wednesday to wish my husband good-bye.

Cross-examined.—Müller said he would like to receive the 150l. a year from Mr. Hodgkinson half-yearly. My husband saw him on the Tuesday morning. I did not notice the name of Death upon the box. The prisoner did not say any thing about Mr. Death. I am certain of it.—Did you not make-a remark about Mr. Death being a good jeweller? I forgot that; I thought he must be a good jeweller, having a shop in Cheapside. I did not know Mr. Death, and never saw his shop.–You noticed that on the Monday Müller had dark trowsers on? Yes.— As he was going away did you not make a remark that his hat had worn very well, and he replied at once that it was a different hat? Yes.—You heard of the murder on Monday, the 11th of July, from a lodger? Yes.—You heard there had been a shocking murder in a railway carriage? Yes.—Do you take in a Sunday paper? Yes; and I had one on Sunday, the 10th of July.

By Mr. Sergeant Ballantine.—Did you have any conversation on the subject of the murder with your husband? No.—What number of hours is your husband usually out? On week days from nine in the morning until one the next.

Mrs. Repsch, recalled.—The Foreman of the Jury: On what day of the week did Müller bring the hat and box to your house? I cannot say. I think it was a Sunday most likely; but I cannot say.

Mr. Repsch, recalled.—By Baron Martin: On what days did you see Müller? On week days. I had not seen him on Sunday for three or four weeks before the murder.

Joseph Honnequart, examined by Mr. Giffard.—I am foreman to Mr. Hodgkinson. Six weeks before the 9th of July prisoner was in Mr. Hodgkinson's service. He was engaged originally at 25s. a week, and he worked at that nearly a month, and he then worked piece-work for two weeks. He did not again go back to 25s. a week—he said he could make more at piece-work, and he discharged himself on the Saturday before the murder. He was not engaged to go to America for my employers.

Cross-examined.—He was in our employ six weeks.-Did he bear a good character with you? He was always very polite.

Edward Watson stated that he was formerly foreman in the employ of Mr. Walker, hatter, of Crawford-street, but left him last week. Was in the employment four years. Had seen the hat produced. The lining in the hat was not appropriated to any particular class of hats. It was used part of the time that he was at Mr. Walker's. Had never seen a similar band used by any other hatter. The price of the hat was about 8s. 6d. Could not say exactly, from the present state of the hat, what it was sold at.

Cross-examined.—The lining was a peculiar lining. I do not think Mr. Walker ever had more than three or four of that kind of lining. We buy the linings ready cut. This lining was one of a quantity of samples that Mr. Walker bought, and there were not more than three or four of that particular pattern.

Mr. Walker, hatter, Crawford-street, Marylebone, identified the hat as having been sold in his shop. The lining was a peculiar lining. He did not think they had more than one. They might have had two hats lined with that kind of lining. It was one of a great number of linings that he bought, but they were all samples, and he did not think there were two alike. There might have been two. It was a French lining. Should think the price of the hat would be 8s. 6d. or 10s. 6d., but from the present condition of it he could not tell.—The witness was not cross-examined.

Superintendent Tiddy, of the Marylebone police, produced the jewel-box and hat-box, and the slipper which he received from Mrs. Blythe.

James Giffard, agent to Messrs. Grinnell and Timber, shipping agents at the London Docks, stated that the office was opened about nine o'clock in the morning. He recognized the prisoner. First saw him on Wednesday, the 13th of July, about eleven o'clock in the morning. Prisoner asked him what was the passage to New York. Told him it was 4l. He asked when the ship sailed, and witness said “To-morrow.” Prisoner went away, and came back about two o'clock, and said he had come to pay the fare. He paid the 4l. and went away. He came back about half-past three with three parcels. Two were small ones, and one was a large one wrapped in canvas. The large one would be about eighteen inches long by nine inches wide. Could not tell from the appearance of the parcel what was inside. Witness told him he could not take charge of them, and the prisoner took them away. Afterwards he saw the prisoner on board the Victoria. She sailed on the Friday morning about half-past six, and prisoner was on board of her.

Cross-examined.—It is the custom of poor German emigrants to carry with them small parcels. Besides me there is a German porter in the office, who in my absence answers inquiries. There were four or five German passengers in the Victoria. The docks open in the morning at six o'clock. My general time for coming to the office is nine o'clock. Prisoner gave his right name, Franz Müller. I have not got the contract ticket. The form is to give the name of the vessel and the passenger's name and his age.

Jacob Weist deposed that he is in the employment of the last witness at the London Docks. Remembered seeing the prisoner some days previous to his paying his passage-money. Could not be positive, but believed he saw him there on the Monday. Got to the office himself about nine on the Monday.

George Clark, sergeant of the detective police, said, On Wednesday, August 24, I went on board the Victoria at New York, accompanied by a New York police officer named Tiermann. The prisoner was on board, and he was called to the afterpart of the ship by the captain. I seized hold of him by the arm, and he said, “What is the matter?” Tiermann said, “You are charged with the murder of Mr. Briggs.” I said, “Yes, on the North London Railway, between Hackney Wick and Bow, on the 9th of July.” Prisoner said, “I never was on the line.” I do not know whether he added “that night.” That was all he said at that time. I replied that I was a policeman from London, and Tiermann said he was a policeman from New York. The prisoner did not say any more at that time. I took him down into the saloon, and Tiermann searched him in my presence. He took a key from his waistcoat pocket. I took possession of the key, and said, “What is it the key of?” and he said, “The key of my box.” I said, “Where is your box?" and he said, “In my berth.” In consequence of what the captain told me, I went to No. 9 berth and brought out a large black box, and brought it into the saloon. I unlocked it with the key which I had taken from the prisoner's waistcoat pocket. I found a gold watch wrapped in leather, and said, “What is this?” He said, “My watch.” I then took up a hat which was inside the box, and said, “That is your hat, is it?” and he said, “Yes." I said, “How long have you possessed it?” He said, “I have had the watch about two years, and the hat about twelve months.” I told him he must remain in custody, and I kept him on board all night.

Cross-examined.—He answered all the questions I put to him very readily indeed.—When you told him the name of the murdered man, and said the murder was on the North London Railway, did he not say, “I know nothing about it?” My impression is that he said, “I never was on the line.” In my deposition I said I found no new shirts. I find that was a mistake. I thought they were old shirts because they were dirty, but since then I find they were shirts that had not been worn much. I should think they had been worn once or twice, probably not more than once.

Richard Tanner—I am one of the inspectors of the detective police of London. I went to America in company with Sergeant Clark on this case. I also took with me Mr. Death, and Matthews the cabman. I went on board the Victoria on her arrival at New York, and found Müller. Mr. Death was on the deck. I placed Müller among seven or eight other persons, and Mr. Death came down and pointed him out.—Did you say anything to Müller about a ring? Yes, I said, “You stated you lost a ring on board the ship.” He said, “Yes, but I have not lost it, it must have been stolen from me.” I said, “Tell me what sort of a ring it is, and I will endeavour to have it found.” He said, “It is a gold ring with a stone in it.” I said, “A red stone?” and he said, “No, a white stone. I bought it in Cheapside, and gave 7s.6d. for it.” The ring was not found. I took possession of the effects of the prisoner. I showed them to him before I took possession of them, and he said that was the whole of his property with the exception of the ring. I had told him that I should take him home as a prisoner, and that he had better tell me what he had, that I might take it all with me. (The box was brought into court.) This is the box. (Witness then took from the box a pair of trowsers, several articles of underclothing, and a pair of tailor's shears.) There was no coat in the box. The prisoner had but one coat—the one he has on now. He had no overcoat. There was no parcel in the box such as has been described.

Cross-examined.—Before I saw the prisoner, Sergeant Clark had told me that the ring was lost. When I asked the prisoner about the ring, he said he thought it was stolen from him. In fact he had a suspicion of a man who he thought had stolen it. I said, “Is it a plain gold ring with a stone in it?” and he said, “No, it has got a head on it.” I did not hear him say in New York that he had purchased the watch and chain in the docks. That was suggested by his counsel in New York. I believe that some German gentlemen in New York assisted the prisoner as some German gentlemen are assisting him now. I found 11s. upon him. I did not ask him how he became possessed of the money, and he did not offer me any explanation as to it.

The witness Clark was recalled.—Mr. Sergeant Parry: Did the prisoner say any thing to you about his having sold or exchanged a waistcoat? Yes; he said that he had exchanged it away for a leather reticule. I got the waistcoat back again. He had a very old one on when I took him in charge. He wore the waistcoat that I got back for him home. The clothes he had on were not taken from him in order that they might be analyzed so as to ascertain whether there was blood upon them, but they were carefully examined.

Mr. Thomas James Briggs.-I am the son of Mr. Briggs who was murdered. I saw my father the last time alive and well upon the Thursday before he was murdered. I heard of what had happened at two o'clock on the morning of Sunday. I went and saw him at the Mitford Castle Inn. The watch produced is my father's. I also recognize the chain and the seal. My father purchased his hats of Mr. Digance, of No. 18, Royal Exchange, and had been in the habit of doing so for many years. The hat now produced was shown to me at Bow-street. I did not recognize it, because it is a shorter one than he usually wore. The stick is my father's; the black bag belonged to my brother. I do not know a Mr. Thomas Lee, or rather I did not before this occurrence.—The witness was not cross-examined.

Mr. Thomas Titmarsh.-I am a watchmaker. I knew the late Mr. Briggs seven or eight years. I have repaired a watch for him once or twice. It is the practice in the trade when we repair a watch to take the number of the watch in our books. I know the watch produced. It was Mr. Briggs's watch. I repaired it twice for him, the last time in 1863. I should think the value of the watch is about £10 or £12. It is an old-fashioned gold watch, and might originally be sold for £25.

Mr. Digance, examined.—I am a hatter carrying on business at 18, Royal Exchange. The late Mr. Briggs was a customer of mine for the last twenty-five or thirty years. Every hat he had was made to order. I made a hat to the order of Mr. Briggs in September, 1863. According to the particulars in my book the hat produced does not correspond. It corresponds in the shape of the crown. It is a bell-crown, and he ordered a bell-crown hat. The hat produced is lower in the crown than the one that was made for him. It was a little too easy in the head, and I placed a little tissue paper round. It is not there now, but there are fragments of it inside the lining. This hat has been cut down, I should say from an inch to an inch and a half, and the bottom part of the leather has been cut. The piece has been removed and brought over the band and stitched, and the silk has been pushed down by that stitching.—Is that the way in which a hatter would cut it down? Certainly not.—How would a hatter cut it down? It is an operation I have never seen done.—But suppose it had been cut down and had to be fastened? He would secure it with gum and press it down with a hot iron. That process has certainly not been used here.—How has it been sewed, neatly or otherwise? I have not seen any thing of the kind before. I should say it has been neatly done.—Would you say it has been done by a person who understands sewing? I should say it has.-Then, with the exception of the cutting down, the hat corresponds with that you sold to Mr. Briggs? It does.— When a hat is made to order is it usual to put the name of the customer inside? Yes, it is generally put on the band inside.—Is that the part of the hat which has been taken away? It is.

Cross-examined.—There is the name of Franz Müller inside now.—Is it usual to put tissue paper inside hats? Yes.—Do you know any thing of the second-hand hat trade? Nothing.—Might not some of your hats get into the hands of second hand dealers? Yes, servants may sell them. (One or two hats were shown to witness.) These hats I should say are my manufacture. They are old affairs. (Another hat was shown to witness.) This hat was made to order, and there is the name of the customer inside the hat. Mr. Briggs generally had one hat a year; he was a very careful wearer.

The Foreman.—Can you state how much of this lining has been cut? I should think half an inch.

Mr. Frederick W. Thorne.—I am a hat manufacturer. I make hats for Mr. Digance. The hat produced is my manufacture, and it has my handwriting in it, the two letters “T. D." It is the practice when a hat is ordered to put the name of the customer. It is generally put on the band inside. This hat has been cut away from an inch to an inch and a quarter. The part cut out would be the part on which the name was written. Though I do not know that this hat was made for Mr. Briggs, I know it was made for Mr. Digance. I have known hats cut down. If a hatter cut one down, he would fasten with gum and use the iron.

Cross-examined.—I mark all the hats I make for Mr. Digance in this way. I make many grosses for him in the course of a year. I have other marks for other customers.

Mrs. Blythe, recalled.—Did you know the overcoat which the prisoner had with a velvet collar? Yes.—When did you last see him with it? On Thursday, the 13th of July.—That was the day he was taking his leave? Yes.—Was he wearing it? I cannot say whether he was wearing it or whether he had it on his arm. -

This closed the case for the prosecution.

Mr. Sergeant Parry then addressed the court on behalf of the prisoner, and called the following witnesses to disprove the charge and to support an alibi. 

Mr. Thomas Lee said —I live at King Edward-road, and am a private gentleman. My father is a coal-merchant. I knew the late Mr. Briggs, and had known him three or four years. I last saw him alive on the 9th of July, at Bow station. He was in a carriage (first-class), at about ten o'clock, in a train coming from Fenchurch-street. The carriage was about three or four from the engine. I spoke to him, and said, “Good night, Mr. Briggs.” He said, “Good night, Tom.” The train stopped a little longer than usual. I got into a second-class carriage to go to Hackney. There were two persons in the carriage with Mr. Briggs. There was a light in the carriage. I believe Mr. Briggs had his hat on, otherwise I should have noticed. One of the men with Mr. Briggs sat opposite, the other at his side. The one opposite him was a stout, thick-set man, with light whiskers, and his hand was through the loop by the window. The other man, by the side of Mr. Briggs, was tall and dark-To the best of your judgment is the prisoner at the bar either of those men? I cannot swear to him. —Have you any belief on the subject? I should say prisoner was not one of the men.—Were the men leaving the carriage? To the best of my belief they were not. They had no apparent intention of the kind. I was examined before the coroner. I first gave my evidence to Superintendent Howie.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General.—I was not examined before the magistrate. I live near Hackney station. I went to Bow for a change. I left my house, I think, about eight in the evening. I walked up Hackney a little way for a stroll. I started by the quarter to nine or nine train from Hackney. At Bow I took a stroll to Bow Church. I simply went there for a stroll, and went into a house there and had a glass of ale. I had but one.— What time did you get back to your house? At about a quarter to eleven. I spoke to no one in the mean time. I heard of the murder on Monday, and I never before had seen Mr. Briggs so late as on that night. I heard of it at Mr. Ireland's or Mr. Lake's. The former is a publican in Fetter-lane, the latter an eating-house keeper in Cheapside. I did not hear of the murder on Sunday; I heard of it on Monday. It might have been on Tuesday.—Will you swear that it was on Monday you heard of it? How can I swear to that of which I am not certain —Why did you not inform the police you saw Mr. Briggs a few minutes before the murder in company with two men? I did not want to be brought up. I did not see the importance of my evidence. I first mentioned what I saw to Mr. Tomkins, on Monday night.—Will you swear that? How can I swear to what I think?—Did you tell your wife? I did. —Who else did you speak of it to? I think to Mr. Ireland, but at the time I thought it of no importance, and it did not impress itself on my memory.— Who did you tell it to next? Mr. Howie, the superintendent of the police.— Did you go to him? No.—He came to you? Yes, on the following Sunday. —Am I to understand, knowing the facts you have told us, you never went to the police but they came to you? Yes.—Had they not come to you, would you have gone to them? No.—Why? I know what a bother a prosecution is.-Is that your answer? Yes.—Do you mean to say you thought it too much bother to appear in a case of the murder of your friend, as you call him? Yes. (This answer created considerable sensation in the court.) I think I told what I had seen to a Mr. Tomkins on the Monday. I am not sure whether I did or not. I think the next person I mentioned it to was my wife, and after that to Mr. Ireland. I cannot swear positively, because I did not think the matter of any importance. The superintendent of police came to me about the matter, and I did not go to him. I did not give any information, because I did not wish to be bothered.

The Solicitor-General.—Then knowing your friend, as you say, had been murdered, you gave no information upon the matter because you did not wish to be bothered.

Witness.-Yes, that was my only reason.

Solicitor-General.—You have nothing to do?

Witness.-Nothing, except to collect my own rents.

Cross-examination continued.—I do not know who the ticket-collector was on this night. The train had just stopped when I saw what I have stated. I have been in Mr. Briggs's company several times, but I never took dinner or any meal with him. I only know him by seeing him in the City and riding home in the same carriage with him. Latterly he used to call me Tom. I did not observe any commotion when the train stopped at Hackney Wick, and I did not hear that any thing extraordinary had occurred.

Re-examined.—I will swear that I heard of the murder on the Monday or the Tuesday. Superintendent Howie came to me and wrote down what I stated, and I believe I have always given the same account. Mr. Briggs was a man of very cheerful and affable manners. He generally used to sleep as he was going home in the train. I went to Bow-street, and when it was found that I could not identify the prisoner I was not called.

By the Jury.—Mr. Briggs generally slept with his hat on.

George Byers said, I reside at Pimlico, and am a hatter, and have been used to the trade from a boy, and am acquainted with all branches of the trade, particularly the second-hand branch. In that trade it is very usual to cut down hats and mend them by stitching. The hat now produced [the one alleged to be Mr. Briggs's] has been altered in this manner, but it is not done as I should do it. I should stick it with dissolved shell-lac as well as sew it. That would involve more time and trouble.

By the Jury.—If a hat was wanted in a hurry it might be done as this hat is, in order to save time. It would take half an hour longer to make a good job of it.

William Lee said, I am a hatter, and reside at Chelsea. It is a common thing in the second-hand trade, after cutting down hats, to stitch them, and I always do so. (This witness then also examined the hat, and he said he had altered a great many in the same way.) It was cheaper to stitch a hat than to purchase shell-lac. I have never seen this hat before today.

Cross-examined.—I should not cut the lining in the way the lining of this hat is cut. It is not customary to cut down a new hat.

By the Jury.—I should not have put so many stitches if I had sewed the hat.

A. C. Woodward said, I am clerk in the Electric and International Telegraph Company belonging to the London district. The message now shown to me was sent from our office on the 9th of July. I produce the original. The message was read. It purported to be sent by Alexander Gill Strachan from Whitechapel, to Miss Eldred at Camberwell, requesting her to be at home on the afternoon of the 10th, as he intended to visit her.

Cross-examined.—I have no doubt this message was sent on the 9th of July.

By the Court.—The message was sent out at twenty-five minutes to five.

Mrs. Jones said, I resided in July last at Henley Cottage, Vassall-road, Camberwell. At that time I had two female lodgers. They were in the habit of receiving visits from men. One of them was named Mary Ann Eldred. The prisoner was in the habit of visiting this young woman, and he had done so for nine or ten months before July. I remember my lodger Eldred receiving the telegram which has been produced, some time in the afternoon. The prisoner came to my house on the same day the telegram was received. He came about half-past nine in the evening to see Miss Eldred. She was out at the time. He stood about five or ten minutes talking to me, and then went away. I am quite sure it was as late as half-past nine when he came. I used to call him Mr. Miller, and also the little Frenchman. The young woman told me that he was a German. I noticed that he had a slipper on one of his feet, and he told me that he had met with an accident and hurt his foot. Miss Eldred did not come home until late, and on the following morning I made a communication to her. I also made a communication to my husband. My house was half a mile from the place where the omnibuses start at Camberwell.

Cross-examined.—Miss Eldred is here. I have removed to another house, where I go by the same name. I believe so, but I don't know whether my husband took the house in the name of Kent or Jones. It was about half a mile from my house to Camberwell-gate, whence there were plenty of omnibuses going to the City. I cannot state exactly at what time I received the telegram. I took it in myself from the messenger, but I do not remember whether I signed for it or not. I took the telegram up to Miss Eldred the moment I received it. I should not have remembered the time the prisoner called if Miss Eldred had not told me. Miss Eldred did not go out until nine o'clock. She asked me what time it was just before she went out. She asked me the time, and I called out “Nine o'clock,” and she went away. I do not think any inquiries were made of me about this matter, until seven or eight weeks ago. A German gentleman called, and inquired if I knew Müller, and when he had been at our house; and I told him all I knew. I did not know until the German gentleman came that the prisoner was the person who was suspected. Miss Eldred was called into the room, and I am sure that at this time she did not suspect that her friend Miller was the murderer. She did not recollect any thing about the telegram until two or three weeks ago, and she looked for it and found it. She did not tell the German gentleman that she had received a telegram on the last day that Müller called. The German gentleman was accompanied by another gentleman.

Sergeant Ballantine.—Then, although you knew you had received this telegram, which would fix the day, neither you nor Miss Eldred said a word about it until three or four weeks ago? Can you give any reason for this? The witness said she could not.

Re-examined.—We could not tell the day that Müller called until we found the telegram.

By the Jury.—The prisoner had a hat on when he called.

Mary Anne Eldred said, At present I reside at Peckham, but in July last I was living with the last witness in the Wassall-road, Brixton. I had known the prisoner about twelve months at this time. I remember receiving the telegram that has been produced. I went out on that night about nine, and did not return until twelve at night, and on the following morning my landlady made a communication to me. I cannot say how long it was after this Saturday that I heard of the murder having been committed. I knew that Müller was going to America, and he wished me to go with him. He said he was going to see his sister. I remember some German gentlemen calling upon me to make some inquiries about the prisoner, and I afterwards made a statement to Mr. Beard, the solicitor. I have had the telegram ever since, but I did not give it up till a few days ago.

Cross-examined.—I cannot say how long it was after I received the telegram that my attention was first called to the subject, but I did not say any thing about it until a few days ago. I remember going out about nine o'clock on that night. My reason for knowing this is that it was the day on which I received the telegram. I don't know what time I had breakfast on that day, but I know that I did not get up until after eleven. I know that I went out on that night at nine o'clock, because I always go out at nine o'clock, and because of the telegram.

By the Jury.—I never noticed what kind of hat the prisoner wore.

Mr. Thomas Beard said, I am the solicitor conducting the defence of the prisoner, instructed by the German Legal Protection Society. In consequence of having heard that Müller had stated that he went on that night to visit his sweetheart at Camberwell, I directed inquiries to be made, and about twelve or fourteen days ago the telegram that has been produced was handed to me. In answer to a question put by Sergeant Ballantine, Mr. Beard said that it was under his judgment that those witnesses (Eldred and Jones) were not called before the coroner or the magistrate.

Charles Foreman said, I am a conductor for Mr. Barwick, an omnibus proprietor. Our omnibuses run from Peckham Rye to Gracechurch-street. My omnibus generally leaves Camberwell-gate at five minutes to ten, and I arrive in the City in about five-and-twenty minutes. My previous journey commences at seven o'clock. I remember a passenger riding on one occasion by my omnibus who had a slipper on one foot at the ten o'clock journey, but I cannot recollect when it was. It was some time in the summer; I thought the passenger was lame, and he leant heavily on me as he got out.

This closed the case for the defence.

The Solicitor-General then addressed the jury upon this evidence, contending that the facts stated by the witnesses who came to support the alibi, rather strengthened the case for the prosecution, allowance being made for such discrepancies as to the time as might naturally be expected in the statement of witnesses whose attention had not been precisely directed to that point. He commented with some severity upon the extraordinary, and almost unintelligible evidence given by Mr. Lee.

The Lord Chief Baron then summed up the case to the jury, explaining to them with great lucidity the nature of the evidence with which they had to deal. After a few prefatory remarks the learned judge thus proceeded:-

There can be no doubt that Mr. Briggs, on the evening or night of the 9th of July in this year, was murdered. I say nothing of the manner in which that murder was committed, but I apprehend that of the fact there can be no doubt. I shall presently state to you the circumstances as they appear to have occurred according to the evidence, and I shall leave to you to form your own conclusion, recollecting the verdict is to be your verdict, and not mine. I shall call your attention to certain parts of the case. I shall give you some general directions as to what I think you should bear in mind in considering the question, and I shall leave you to form your own conclusion. It has been said, and said very truly, that this is a case of circumstantial evidence. Gentlemen, it is so. Almost every case that is tried in a criminal court is a case of circumstantial evidence. I apprehend that circumstantial evidence means this, where the facts stated do not directly prove the actual crime, but lead to the conclusion that the prisoner committed that crime; and I believe that I am right in saying that the majority of cases that are investigated in criminal courts in this country are decided upon circumstantial evidence. It has been said that that evidence is better than direct evidence. In one sense that may be true; in another sense it is not true. If you have the testimony of witnesses of undoubted credit who saw a crime committed, why then you can hardly have better testimony than the direct evidence of some person who saw the fact, and can depose to the crime, and can depose to the crime as having witnessed the commission of it. But, undoubtedly, where there can be any doubt about the veracity or honour of the witnesses, indirect evidence, coming from different distances and remote quarters, but all tending to the same end, has a force and effect beyond the testimony of more direct evidence. For direct evidence may be mistaken in various ways. There may be an error about the person. The witness may say he saw the prisoner do it, when he saw another person do it who was like him. He may give a character to the commission of a crime which really does not belong to it. But indirect testimony of a number of facts, supposing that you believe them—for that will be the great question—all concurring to the same point, is free from the objection that there has been either perjury, or misrepresentation, or mistake. Now, gentlemen, there is another matter upon which I wish, before I go into the case, to address you, and that is upon the degree of certainty with which you ought to give your verdict. I collected from my brother Parry's address that he suggested to you that you ought not to pronounce a verdict of Guilty unless you were as satisfied of the guilt of the prisoner as if you had seen him do the act, and you yourselves witnessed the completion of it. Gentlemen, I think that is not the certainty which is required of you to discharge your duty to the oath you have taken, to the country to which you belong, or to the prisoner whose safety is in your hands. I have heard the late Lord Tenterden frequently lay down a rule which I will pronounce to you in his own language:—“It is not necessary that you should have a certainty which does not belong to any human transaction whatever. It is only necessary that you should have that certainty with which you would transact your own most important concerns in life.” No doubt the question before you today, involving as it does the life of the prisoner at the bar, must be deemed to be of the highest importance; but you are only required to have that degree of certainty with which you decide upon and conclude your own most important transactions in life. Gentlemen, to require more would be really to prevent the repression of crime, which it is the object of criminal courts to effect. Now, gentlemen, I think the mode of investigating this case on your part should be this. Take the facts that are proved before you, separate those which you believe from those which you do not believe. Take those which you are satisfied you can confide in, and all the conclusions that naturally and almost necessarily result from those facts you may confide in as much as in the facts themselves, and whatever may be the conclusion they may lead you to, whether on the one side or on the other, that conclusion I think you may rely upon as a safe and just one. The case on the part of the prosecution is the story of the murder of Mr. Briggs, told by the different witnesses, who unfold the circumstances one after the other according to their occurrence, together with the gradual discovery of some apparent connexion between the property that was lost, and the possession of it by the prisoner at the bar. The case on the part of the prisoner I collect to be threefold. In the first place my brother Parry says, “You have not satisfactorily made out the guilt of the prisoner. There are links wanting in your chain. Some of the supposed links are broken or imperfect. You have substituted imagination for fact, probability for certainty, and, were I to call no witnesses (so I understood my brother Parry to say), the prisoner would be entitled to a verdict of Not Guilty.” Gentlemen, that issue, no doubt, requires your special attention, because it is very much upon that issue that the others are to be determined. There can be no doubt if the case on the part of the prosecution does not bring home to your minds a satisfactory conclusion, upon which you can say that, acting upon your oaths, you believe the prisoner guilty, the prisoner is undoubtedly entitled to be found not guilty. The next point, I think, in the defence was this—that the prisoner was unable to do it; that he was not of a stature and strength competent to the task that apparently was performed. That, no doubt, if the prisoner at the bar were a sickly young man under age, and apparently possessed of no strength, would be an argument in his favour. If you believe he was incompetent; if you think he could not have done what is imputed to him, of course, if he could not have done it—then he did not, and then he is entitled to be found not guilty. The third line of defence is an alibi. Gentlemen, that requires a word or two from me before I proceed to the particular facts of the case. Upon the whole case of the prosecution if you entertain any reasonable doubt, if you do not come to a satisfactory conclusion, the prisoner is entitled to be acquitted. But if you do come to a satisfactory conclusion upon the case for the prosecution, you are then met by an alibi, and I think the alibi is then to be weighed in the scale against the case for the prosecution. I should say, to explain precisely the view I wish to bring before you, if on the whole case of the prosecution you entertain any serious doubt, you ought to acquit the prisoner. But where an alibi is propounded that is not to be thrown into the same scale. Then it becomes your province and duty to examine the alibi, and to decide between the case for the prosecution and the alibi. All the facts brought before you on the part of the Solicitor-General form the case for the prosecution, and ought to be weighed duly. The facts on the part of the prisoner by which the alibi is supported should be weighed with the case for the prosecution, and you are called on to determine which you believe. It is a case where both cannot be true, and it is for you to decide to which the truth belongs.

Now, gentlemen, having stated generally what I believe to be the case on the part of the prosecution, and the case on the part of the defence, I think it right to draw your attention to the facts them selves. Gentlemen, it appears that Mr. Briggs left London on the 9th of July (Saturday). After having dined with his niece's husband, Mr. Buchan, he proceeded by an omnibus to some place near London-bridge, where he got out and went to a train at Fenchurch-street station, to take him through Bow to Hackney, or Hackney Wick, as it is called. A Mr. Lee said he saw him at Bow. I introduce that because it is part of the general history of the case. There is no doubt that Mr. Briggs left Fenchurch-street station, and was murdered before he reached Hackney Wick; but it is so highly improbable that any one would attempt to murder him between Fenchurch-street and Bow, that you may easily believe Mr. Lee's account. Whether he was there with one or two persons is a matter for your consideration, after the statement made by Mr. Lee that he did not think it his duty to communicate with the police as to the circumstances, and that he was partly moved to that by his dislike of the “bother” incident to a prosecution. It is difficult to speak of such a frame of mind with approbation,-- that any man who had nothing to do but to collect his rents and live on his income, should have been deterred in coming forward in such a case to state what he knew from a consideration of what he designated “the bother of prosecution.” I must say that has thrown general discredit upon his views and motives, and if the prosecution had known what Mr. Lee had to say in examination and cross examination I am not surprised that they did not call him, and I think they were quite right in not calling him. Mr. Briggs was there. Mr. Briggs did not arrive at Hackney Wick. The carriage that went from Fenchurch-street to Hackney Wick was taken back without being turned round. That accounts in part for what appears on the depositions and in the evidence before the Coroner, for what on going down was the near side would, in returning, be the off side, and the off side would be the near side. Mr. Briggs was found about one-third of the distance from Hackney Wick. The body had been some way removed from the carriage to the “six foot way,” and there he was found, with his head towards Hackney-wick, and his feet towards London.

Gentlemen, I think it right to take some notice of that, because it is possible that some of you may have remarked the circumstance as well as myself. The head pointed towards Hackney Wick. The consequence of that is that his feet must have touched the ground first. Probably all of you are aware that if a man were thrown out head foremost from a carriage, and his head touched the ground, his body would go forward with the velocity of the carriage, and his head would go towards London, and his feet towards Hackney Wick. On the other hand, if he was put out feet first, or if he jumped out and alighted on his feet, the effect of that would be to stop the feet, his body would go forward with the velocity of the carriage, and his head would be smashed immediately on the ground; and if there was a stone it would produce effects quite as powerful as if he were thrown out head foremost.

I think it right to mention, in the event of any one of you remarking on this fact, that it makes no difference in the charge against whoever it was that committed the murder; for it is plain that before the body was removed in any way, either by himself or the murderer, he had received several desperate wounds. According to the medical testimony there was more than one fracture of the skull, and I think it right to state that, in point of law, whether Mr. Briggs had been struck and then stunned by the blow, so as to be unable to call out, or, believing that he might be got to the door of the carriage, and then driven out by force, or the fear produced by the violent action of his assailant, it would be equally murder if his death were entirely owing to his jumping out on his feet, and his meeting with that desperate wound which severed the ear, and drove in part of the skull.

Mr. Briggs was examined that evening, the carriage was examined that evening, and there were the articles that Mr. Briggs had not lost. It is unnecessary to enumerate them. The only alteration with respect to the property was that the watch and chain were gone. That some struggle had taken place in the carriage was evident, from the fact that a link of the chain was found crushed down in the mat of the carriage. The hat he wore was gone, and another hat was left in its place. For some days nothing was known about it; but, according to the evidence, Mr. Death was applied to not many days after, and was asked if he had exchanged a chain. Mr. Death said “Yes;" and he gave in exchange for it another chain (the one produced) and a ring with a white stone and a head on it.

At that time it was also discovered that there was some question about a hat. Every effort was made to discover the person who was connected with the transaction. It was found to be the hat of the prisoner at the bar, and officers were sent out to anticipate his arrival in America. On his arrival there his box was searched, and the watch was found in his box. In that box also was found a hat, and when that hat was brought back to this country inquiry was made respecting it. At first it was said the hat was not the hat of Mr. Briggs, because it was an inch or an inch and a half too short; but when it came to be examined it was found to have been cut down.

Then arises the question with respect to the watch and chain and hat Mr. Briggs wore, and the hat supposed to be the prisoner's. Gentlemen, there is no evidence, as was well observed by my brother Parry, to show that that is the hat Mr. Briggs wore on that night. There is certainly no direct evidence, but it does not appear that there was any other hat he was in the habit of wearing. It is for you to say whether it is the hat he ordinarily wore. Now, gentlemen, the history and the details of this case involve three matters in reality, though at first it occurred to me there were four—the watch and chain, and the hat Mr. Briggs lost that night, and the hat that was found in the carriage in place of Mr. Briggs's hat. 

These are three matters the inquiry into which constitutes the case for the prosecution. Gentlemen, these are not three links of the same chain, and do not make the mistake which it appears to me the remarks of my brother Parry rather tended to lead you into, that if he broke one link of the chain he got rid of the prosecution. That is not true. There are three separate and distinct links, having each of them a separate history, and a failure in the history of one does not in the slightest degree affect the conclusion to be drawn from the history of the others. For instance, if there had been no trace whatever of either of the hats— if the hat alleged to be the hat of Mr. Briggs had not been found in the box of the prisoner, that could not have diminished the weight of evidence with respect to the other hat and to the watch and chain.

They all stand on separate and distinct grounds apart from each other, and if any one of them is made out to your satisfaction—that is, if the result of the evidence satisfies you that the prisoner at the bar was on the Monday morning in possession of the watch and chain, then you are to say whether he has given a true account, or—for this is the question— whether he has given a satisfactory account. Now, with respect to the watch and chain the evidence seems to be this:—On the Monday morning, about ten o'clock, he exchanged Mr. Briggs's chain for a chain which he took of Mr. Death, the jeweller. That chain he pawned on the Wednesday. But then you will say, what became of the watch? Why, when he was apprehended off New York he had the watch in his box; it was found there. He said it was his watch, and that he had had it for two years. It will be for you to say whether that is evidence that both the watch and chain were in his possession. How did they come into his possession? I shall presently ask that question, and call the attention of my brother Parry to the way in which I understand he put it; because I am desirous that there should be no mistake, and I am desirous not to speak ambiguous or doubtful language, but to express myself with perfect plainness, and if I am wrong I shall be glad to be corrected. You will have to ask yourselves whether the prisoner had the watch and chain on the Monday morning. The evidence is, that he separated them, if he had them,--that is, that he took the chain to Mr. Death, that he there had it valued at 3!. 10s., that he declined to take a chain of the value of 31.15s., which would require a payment of 5s., and that he took a chain of the value of 31.5s., and took a ring instead of the 5s.

That is the evidence, and I must here again say it is for you to say whether you believe that part of the case or not. Unless you believe it, you ought not to act upon it; but if you do believe it, you ought to follow it to any fair and reasonable conclusion to which it leads. When he had got the chain he went to the house of a friend and showed it, spoke of it, and mentioned the price he had given for it. He said he had bought a ring at the same place, and that he had bought both of them at the docks. There is no evidence that he said anything to any body about the watch. None. He gave different accounts of the ring. He described himself as buying the ring along with the chain. It is for you to say whether there can be any doubt that he got the ring from Mr. Death. He stated to one person, according to the evidence, if you believe it, that he had the ring sent to him by his father; and in America, when he was questioned about the ring, he said he had bought it at a shop in Cheapside, very probably meaning that he got it at Mr. Death's.

Gentlemen, you will have to consider what is the reasonable conclusion to be drawn from these circumstances. He never has said on any occasion that he bought the watch and chain at the docks. What he said in America was that he had had the watch two years, which is quite inconsistent with his buying it at the docks, and the statement of his counsel to Mr. Tanner appears to me to amount to nothing. The statement here in London was that he bought the chain and the seal, he said nothing about the watch, at the docks, speaking of the chain which he had undoubtedly exchanged for the original chain at Mr. Death's.

I think it my duty to point these matters out to you. I come now to the question as to which I want to call the attention of my brother Parry. My brother Parry suggested that there is no evidence that he ever said to any body until he got to America that he bought the watch at the docks.

Baron Martin (referring to his notes).-Inspector Tanner says, “I did not hear him say he had purchased the watch and chain at the docks. His counsel suggested that before the magistrates at New York.”

The Lord Chief Baron.—I want to call my brother Parry's attention to whether I am strictly stating what I want to convey to your minds. What I understood my brother Parry to state was this, that he bought the watch and chain at the docks, and that, very likely from the price he paid, he was quite aware that a transaction of that sort could not be perfectly right. I understood my brother Parry to say that any false statement or awkwardness about his communications in reference to that matter might be explained by his consciousness that he was doing wrong. I call attention to it in order that we may understand distinctly what was intended to be conveyed to your minds—namely, that instead of committing the murder on Saturday he bought on Monday morning at the docks the watch and chain from the man who had committed the murder, or from somebody connected with him. That is his account of it. A robbery being committed on Saturday night, and the stolen articles appearing on the Monday morning, that is certainly not so near as if they were disposed of on the following morning; but, for all practical purposes, and for all honest dealing, Monday morning is the same to Saturday night as Tuesday morning is to Monday night. It will be for you to consider how far you can accept, as an apology for being in possession of these things, the statement that he was aware there was something wrong about his having bought them, and that he therefore gave excuses and made awkward statements about them. That is not the only thing. The remarkable matter about this case is that every part of the change of property, whether the loss of the watch and chain and the hat by Mr. Briggs, or the hat left in the railway carriage by somebody, points with a certain degree of strength, more or less, of which you only are to judge, to the prisoner at the bar. You will next have to consider the question of the hat. Mr. Briggs's hat is proved to be Mr. Briggs's hat, and, so far as I could collect, my brother Parry did not deny the probability that it was the hat.

Mr. Sergeant Parry.—I admitted that it was a hat sold by Mr. Digance, but not the hat of Mr. Briggs.

The Lord Chief Baron.—Of course, my brother Parry could not admit any thing in a case like this; but the hatter who made it said, “I made it for Mr. Digance,” and Mr. Digance says, “I recognize this hat as far as I can as having been made to the order of Mr. Briggs.” He speaks of it in all respects as being the hat. He says it has been cut down, and in a manner in which no hatter would have cut it down, and then he points out the peculiarities, which I do not think it necessary to dwell upon. The hat on being examined turns out to have been sewed in a manner which is said not to be the practice of regular hatters, and apparently not the practice of second-hand hatters. I do not think it necessary to call your attention to the evidence of the two hatters. One of them said certainly he should not have done so and so, and he did not think it was usual. Another of them demurred to another part of the manufacture. It is for you to say whether, on the whole of the evidence, it is or is not made out to your satisfaction that that hat was the hat furnished to Mr. Briggs. A remark made by the Solicitor-General is true enough. The prisoner at the bar has had—and one is very glad that he has had—the protection of a patriotic society, established for the protection of their countrymen, and one would think that no expense was spared by them to gain all the information that could be obtained. It is for you to consider whether half the industry and diligence which has resulted in the production of those old hats that we saw last night—I forget now how many there were—it is for you to consider, whether, if that diligence had been applied in finding out where the prisoner bought this hat, which was bought, certainly, according to his own account, not more than a month from the date of the murder, half that diligence would not have found out the very man who sold it to him, if any body did sell it, and the very man who altered it, if, in fact, any body did alter it but himself. That is a fact you will have to put to yourselves and decide for yourselves, but it is a point in the case that appears to me to be worthy of your consideration.

Mr. Sergeant Parry.—Mr. Digance, at the close of his evidence, in answer to me, said, “I will not swear that this is the hat I sold to Mr. Briggs.”

The Chief Baron.—I dare say he would not swear that is the one; but the question is whether he believed it was, and whether he furnishes sufficient materials for you to believe it was. A man may not swear to a fact of which he is not thoroughly satisfied; Mr. Digance could not be certain in the sense in which I am certain I am addressing you, or in the extreme sense asked in a court of justice. Well, then, you are to say how far the story of the hat leads you to the conclusion that the hat found in the box belonging to the prisoner at the bar was the hat of Mr. Briggs. With respect to the hat left in the railway carriage, undoubtedly it was a matter of some surprise at first. The foreman said, looking to the pattern of the lining, there were not more than three hats made with it, and Mr. Walker, the hat-maker himself, said, “I had a number of samples from Paris; there were only two or three of this pattern, and certainly not more than one hat, or two at the most, were made with this particular lining.” It is for you, gentlemen, to say what is the conclusion you draw from that. Mrs. Repsch said Müller's hat had a remarkable lining, and so the fact appears to have been, she never could have seen its like. But where these different points of the case lead independently of each other to the same conclusion, it is for you to say how far the union of more than one gives strength to that conclusion—how far it is better if several of them unite together in a conclusion, even though not so perfect, and lead to a result more certain on the whole. There is a case reported which will illustrate what I mean: it occurs in Mr. Starkie's book on Evidence. A gentleman was robbed of his purse in a crowd. He gave instant information. Some notorious character was apprehended, and the purse was found upon him. The gentleman was asked whether that was his purse. He said he believed it was. The purse was turned out. It contained five or six pieces of coin. He was asked if he could swear to the first. He said, “No.” He was asked if he could swear to any one of the pieces of money. He said, “No, I cannot.” He was told if he could not swear to the property the prisoner must be acquitted. He was again asked, “Are you convinced that is your purse and money?” He said, “I am.” He was asked why. “Because,” he said, “the purse happened to contain five or six separate pieces of money, and although I could not swear to any individual coin—there was a 7s. piece, even then not very common, a half-crown piece, and others (enumerating the coins)—yet I cannot imagine that any one else had a purse exactly like this, with these several pieces of money in it.” You will appreciate the value of that kind of identification—not identifying each piece, but identifying the collection. “I swear to my purse,” said the gentleman, “with these separate pieces of money, which I perfectly recollect. Though I cannot identify each individual piece I can identify the whole, and the conviction on my mind is that it is my property.” I forbear to state what the conclusion was that was drawn in that particular case, but it will illustrate what I mean when I say that if part of the case leads to one conclusion, and another part of the case, though imperfectly, leads to the same conclusion, it adds strength to that conclusion; and so a third point, though not perfectly made out, still adds strength to the general case that is involved in a comparison of these different facts and circumstances; and that is the true value of circumstantial evidence. If you believe the facts that lead to the conclusion, you are bound to go on with that conclusion to the end. Well, gentlemen, I shall not trouble you further with reference to the hat which was found in the carriage, the hat which was found in the prisoner's box, or the watch and chain. I have already made a remark on Lee's testimony. I have told you distinctly that if you believe, from the appearance of the prisoner, and from what you know of his history and habits, that he was incapable of doing the deed, of course he is entitled to your verdict. It is said he was lame on the Saturday night, but according to the evidence he was walking about from six to nine o'clock on the night following that of the murder, and it is not stated that he walked lame or had to sit down in consequence. I now, then, come to the last defence made—the alibi. That is so entirely a matter for your consideration that I shall say very little about it. You have had the evidence of Mary Ann Eldred, whom it is impossible to hear or see without great compassion for the situation in life which she has filled. Her evidence consisted, certainly, very much more in saying what she could not than in saying what she did recollect. But she stated that she went out at nine, and that Müller called about half-past nine o'clock. No doubt that is the case of the alibi; that was what she came here to say. She said she knew Müller was going to America, and it is fair to say that his going to America was perfectly well known —that is, that he had the intention of going. And she said, “He told me that if I did not go with him he would not stay more than six months.” You will have to say whether her account is at all a satisfactory one, and how far you believe that it makes out an alibi. With respect to the witness Jones, it is impossible to speak of her or her husband with the same degree of forbearance. With respect to the husband, I think a man engaged through the medium of his wife in a transaction of that sort is about the most infamous of mankind. How far the wife is some shades better it is for you to determine. But really the question comes to this—and it is for you to consider—whether the whole movements of the prisoner spoken to on the night of the murder are not, according to the argument of the Solicitor-General, entirely reconcileable with the case for the prosecution. Between seven and eight o'clock the prisoner was at Repsch's. He then left, taking his boots with him, saying he was going to Camberwell. There was plenty of time for him to have gone to Camberwell, and to have returned, though not in the same omnibus with Mr. Briggs. He would arrive in the City in time to go by the train from Fenchurch-street. These, I think, are nearly all the circumstances to which it is necessary for me to call your attention. And now, gentlemen, I have endeavoured to discharge my duty. It remains with you to discharge yours. I must again tell you that the verdict is to be yours. It is for you to decide the great and important question of the prisoner's guilt or innocence. If I have in any part of my address to you intimated any opinion on that subject, I have desired to express none. I have called your attention to circumstances which I think you ought to consider; but as far as I could I have endeavoured to avoid the expression of any opinion of the kind. It is not for me to decide; it is for you to deliberate and decide according to the best of your judgment, and according to your conscience; and if you have collected any opinion as to any part of the case from what may have fallen from me, unless in as far as it goes along with your entire and deliberate judgment, I beg of you, gentlemen, to treat it as if I had said nothing on the subject. The verdict is to be yours. The law and the constitution have given to twelve men, sworn to act according to the evidence, the duty of finding the verdict of Guilty or Not Guilty. In deliberating upon that verdict, I doubt not, as advised by both learned counsel, you will act with impartiality and fairness; you will remember the duty you owe the prisoner, to deem him innocent till he is proved guilty. You will not forget the duty you owe the country and society at large, if the evidence leads you to a conclusion of guilt, fearlessly to act upon it, according to your conscience, and find that verdict which you believe to be the true one. And may the God of all truth guide your hearts and judgments unto that which shall be a perfect and satisfactory verdict according to the truth and justice of the case.

The jury retired to consider their verdict at a quarter to three o'clock, and after an absence of fifteen minutes returned into court, finding the prisoner Guilty.

Being called upon to say if he had any thing to urge why sentence of Death should not be pronounced, the prisoner made answer: “I have nothing to say before judgment.”

Mr. Baron Martin having put on the black cap, addressing the prisoner, said, Franz Müller, you have been found guilty by the jury of the murder of Mr. Briggs, and it is no part of our duty to express generally any opinion with respect to the verdict of the jury. It is their province to decide upon your guilt or your. innocence. But it is usual for the Judges to state, in passing sentence, if they entirely concur with the verdict, and they do so for two reasons. It is satisfactory if the opinion of the Judges concurs with that of the jury, and I am authorized by the Chief Baron to state, and I state on my own behalf, that we are perfectly satisfied with the verdict, and had I been on the jury I would have concurred in it. And there is a second reason for the statement, in order to remove entirely from your mind any idea of the possibility that you will live in this world much longer. Within a short period you will be removed from it by a violent death. I therefore beseech you avail yourself of what I have no doubt will be afforded you —the means, so far as you can, of making your peace with your Maker, and be prepared to meet that fate which very shortly awaits you. I forbear going into the particulars of the case; but there are a variety of circumstances in it which, if the evidence had been gone into more minutely, would have more and more tended to establish your guilt. The whole evidence as to your movements during the day of the murder points to that conclusion. You left the house of Blythe about eleven. You continued at the house of Repsch till between seven and eight, when, according to the testimony of a witness who was evidently favourable, you started at a quarter to eight, telling him you were going to Camberwell to see the young woman Eldred. You went there. It may be that Mrs. Jones supposed she was telling the truth when she says you were there after nine o'clock, but in my opinion she was in error, and from the time you left the City it was earlier; but you still had time to return by omnibus towards the Fenchurch station before the train started, where, observing Mr. Briggs, probably exhibiting this watch and chain, you formed the determination to rob him. There are other circumstances which tend to the same conclusion. What is your history during the following week? You exchange the chain of Mr. Briggs for another at Mr. Death's. You immediately proceed to pledge that chain in order to receive a sum of money upon it. Having done so, you take out of pledge your own watch and chain, and, having got them, you proceed to pledge them again at another shop for a higher sum and sell the ticket. If the real truth were known, I have no doubt it would be found that, moved by the devil, and for the purpose of getting money to go to America, you robbed Mr. Briggs of his watch and chain, and with these contrived, with assistance from your friends, to get sufficient money to pay your passage. That, there can be little doubt, is the true history of the transaction. I refer to these facts for the purpose of removing from your mind all idea of there being any possibility of a commutation of sentence. I must say, after listening to all the evidence which has been adduced, I feel no more doubt that you committed this murder, than I do with reference to the occurrence of any other event of which I am certain, but which I did not see with my own eyes. The sentence I have now to pass on you is not that of the Chief Baron; it is not my sentence; it is the sentence which the law of England imposes on all persons found guilty of murder, and that is, that you be taken back to the prison whence you came, and thence to the place of execution, and there be hanged by the neck until you are dead, and that your body, when dead, be taken down and buried in the precincts of the prison where you were last confined before this sentence of execution was passed upon you; and may the Lord have mercy on your soul.

The prisoner then, with great firmness and self-possession, said, “I should like to say something. I am, at all events, satisfied with the sentence which your lordship has passed. I know very well it is that which the law of the country prescribes. What I have to say is that I have not been convicted on a true statement of the facts, but on a false statement.”

The firmness of the miserable man here gave way, and he left the dock bathed in tears".