A Fearful Crime.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 220, 27 November 1875, Page 7

A Fearful Crime.

THE WHITECHAPEL TRAGEDY (From papers by the Suez mail.)

On September 21 the magisterial inquiry' into this case. was further jirosecuted at the Southwark Police-court. Mr. Benson was tho presiding magistrate, and Mr. Hawkins, Q.C., and other gentlemen occupied seats on tho bench. Mr. Poland, instructed by Mr. Pollard for the Treasury, appeared for the prosecution ; Mr. Besley for the prisoner Henry Wainwright; and Mr. Louis Lewis for the prisoner Alice Day. Mr. Poland, addressing the magistrate, said: here, sir, by the instructions from the J reasury, to conduct the prosecution against the prisoner Henry Wainwright, who, on tho last occasion he was before you, was charged, with the person by his side, with being in the possession of a mutilated body of a jierson unknown. . J lie charge I have now to make against him is that of the wilful murder of a young woman named Harriet Lane, and in making this charge I think it is but right to state that the Treasury lias considered it a duty, under all the circumstances of the case, to give the police all the legal aid necessary. Since the preliminary examination before you last week, every endeavor lias been made by the police to ascertain the facts of the case, and much additional evidence has been gleaned, which will be laid before you. The learned gentleman then went over the history of the case, all of which has already been published. Ihe following additional facts, however, were laid before the bench : I may state at once that, as the. medical gentleman who made an examination last week suggested that a more careful examination should be made than that which he had at that time been able to make, another medical gentleman, Mr. Bond, lecturer on forensic medicine at Hospital, made an additional examination, and when you hear his evidence you will, I think, come to the conclusion that the woman was shot with a revolver—the jiroof being that two bullets were found in the head, the fractures caused by the shots penetrating being old fractures, and showing that her death was compassed by this means, and, as the prosecution suggests, shortly after leaving her lodgings on September 11 last year. In addition to the two bullets in the head there was a third bullet found in the padding of the hair on the head of the corpse. The medical examination also goes to show that the woman’s throat was cut during life or immediately after death, and these, facts will be given you in evidence. Harriet .Lane being thus murdered, her body was buried in the grave which was described on the last occasion, and there is no doubt that, for the jiurpose of preventing the smell which, would arise from decomposition, a large quantity of chloride of lime was placed in the grave. This was a great mistake on the part of the murderer, and as its properties are of a preservative character, it has contributed to the preservation of certain portions of the body to an extent which allow them to be described by the medical witnesses. There will be evidence that on September 10,1874, Wainwright purchased half a cwt. of chloride of lime.

Mr. Benson : The 11th of that month, you say, was the date of the disapjiearance of the woman.

Mr. Poland : Yes. And on the 10th the order was given for the chloride of lime, which was. delivered at the prisoner’s house at 84, Whiteehapel-road, but afterwards removed to 215, Whitechapel-road, and, no doubt, placed in the grave.

Mr. Besley : Will it be convenient for you to state the name of the person of whom the chloride of lime was purchased ? Mr. Poland : The name is Baylis, and I shall call. him. During the interval which elapsed since the disappearance of Harriet Lane the prisoner consented to pay £1 ss. a-week to Mrs. Wilmore for the maintenance of the two children that prisoner had by Harriet Lane. The payments were continued up to June, when they were discontinued. Since that date sums of money have been paid to. Mrs. Wilmore from time to time by the prisoner, but substantially only up to June last has he paid for the children. We come now to the present month —a year after the murder. You have had in the story of Stokes, Inspector Fox, and the two constables the. history of the material matters which occurred on. the lltli of the present month. The prisoner then, for some reason—the body having been buried for a year—determined to remove it. Complaints were made of the had smell upon the premises, and it was said by some one that it would lead to fever. No doubt the prisoner had that statement brought to his attention, and he feared that investigations would arise which would lead to the discovery of the buried body. Then, tho prosecution suggests, he determined to dig it up and remove it to another place where he thought there would be less chance of it being found, and we know that on the 11th of this month the grave had heen dug up, that the body had heen cut to pieces and packed in two parcels of American cloth for the purpose of being more securely removed, and the parcels were removed from 215, Whiteehapelroad, to premises, at the time closed, called the Hen and Chickens, in the Borough High-strec of Southwark. You have had the statement made before you by the young man Stokes, and you remember that, after work was over that Saturday, the prisoner asked Stokes to carry a parcel, that Stokes did carry the parcels from the house No. 215, Whitechapel-road, aud saw them put into a cab. The prisoner was then under the belief that Stokes would not know any more about it ; that he would go away home ; but, owing to the intelligence and determination of Stokes, who followed the cab, and saw tho woman taken up, the policemen in the borough were led to inquire into the contents of the parcels as they were being conveyed into the Hen and Chickens house, where the prisoner

trusted they would be safely removed, and all trace lost. 'Pile prisoner’s account as to the possession of the parcels, when he did not know that Stokes was in communication with the police, was a most ridiculous one. Hu said he had been paid £3 to carry the parcels to the house. It would be idle to waste time on this point, but I shall proceed to tell you that we shall produce evidence to show that the prisoner purchased the American cloth on the 10th inst.—-the day before the removal of the body—and also rope similar in character to that with which the parcels were tied up. I shall now refer to matters showing that the remains were those of Harriet Lane, and show, too, the prisoner AVainwright’s connection with her, that he was the father of her children, and was the last in communication with her up to the time of her disappearance a year ago. I will briefly mention some of the facts which will be adduced. We find that no one sees or hears of her after she has left Sitlney-sf|uare, neither father, mother, sister, nor any one else who has been in communication with her previously except the prisoner, and he is found falsely and absurdly accounting for her absence. But the matter docs not rest here. Of course the features of the dead woman are destroyed, and identity from the features is impossible. But then wo have the fact that the body is the body of a woman aged twenty-three, and Harriet Lane was twenty-three years of age. Then it is the body of a woman five feet high, and Harriet Lane was five feet high. It was the body of a woman who had had children, and Harriet Lane had had children. The woman was one of small features, and Harriet Lane was a woman of small features. This was the body of a woman with a peculiar shade of auburn hair, and Harriet Lane had the like hair. The friends will testify that they have not the slightest doubt that the body taken from the prisoner—brought by him from 215, Whitechapel-road to the borough - was that of their unfortunate relative, Harriet Lane. Then, moreover, though she was

not known to be in fact married to the prisoner, yet she wore a married ring and keeper in life, and in this grave in the prisoner’s premises were found such wedding ring and keeper. Then she used to wear earrings, and in the grate of the same house were found such earrings. Then she used to wear jet buttons on her dress, and in the rubbish in the prisoner’s house at 215, Whitechapel-road were found such buttons, and some of the same pattern were found in the box of the poor woman now in the possession of her family. These facts would he proved, and they undoubtedly show, the prosecution suggests, that the remains found in the prisoner’s possession are those of Harriet Lane aud that she was murdered by him. It would be a waste of time to argue upon the facts, and these are only some which will be adduced, for all the facts have not yet been ascertained which will come into the hands of the police. But what I have opened now will be proved In detail before you. With regard to the prisoner Alice Day, so far as the prosecution goes, the only evidence against her is that Stokes followed the cab and saw her meet the other prisoner, evidently by appointment, and get into the cab. Waimvright was smoking at the time—perhaps to prevent her or any one else from noticing the smell from the parcels—and she went with the cab to the Borough. When spoken to she indicated Wainwriglit as her husband. Perhaps she was induced to go into the cab to prevent inquiries being made. We do not trace her to 215, AVhitechapel-road, and the evidence as to her, so far as the Crown is concerned, remains where it did, and probably you will think it right not to detain her in custody. The police did quite right in detaining her in custody, and now that it has been proven by the witness Stokes that she got into the cab away from Whitechapel-road, and that she merely sat in the cab, it is quite possible that she may not have known what these parcels contained. After a short conversation between the magistrates and Mr. Poland, Alice Day was discharged, and as she passed by Wainwriglit in the dock, he whispered some words in her ear.

The following additional evidence was then taken :

William Drayton said : I am an upholsterer, and managed the business of Rowlandson and Company, 83, Whitechapel-road. I have known the prisoner, Henry Waimvright, seventeen or eighteen years. I sold him some American cloth on September 10. It was two yards, at Sd. a yard. He did not say what he wanted it for. It was similar to the American cloth produced. I sold him three yards of a better class in October .last, and it was placed to his account when he was in business for himself. When lie purchased the two yards in September he was in the employ of Mr. Martin, cornchandler. By Mr. Besley: I sold him some American cloth several times. This is very common material, and he paid for it at the time—l6d. for the two yards. By Mr. Benson : He has not told me what he wanted the cloth for.

John Pinncll, oihnau, 214, Whitechapelroad : I have known the prisoner as a neighbor about thirteen years as occupying next door, 115, where he formerly carried on business. He purchased eight yards of rope at my shop between eleven and twelve noon, on the 10th inst. He paid twopence for it. He did not say what he wanted it for. It resembled the rope produced by the police. John Baylis, 149, Whitechapel-road, oil and colormau : I have known the prisoner as a neighbor about fifteen years. T remember his occupying 215 and 84, Whitechapel-road. In Geptember last year I sold him some chloride of lime. I have an entry on the hooks produced. “Sept. 10, 1574. —Half-a-hundred-weiglit chloride of lime, 7s. Gd.” I sold it either to the prisoner or his foreman, Mr. Rogers. It has not been marked off as paid for. It was packed up in a box and sent into his shop, No. 84. A box was brought for the chloride of lime, but I can’t say who brought it. I don’t think it has been paid for. I

have no entry to that effect. My books have not been posted for two years. Had it been paid for at the time it would not have been entered.

John Lane deposed : I am gas manager at the Royal Gunpowder Works at Waltham Abbey. I live in Jessamine cottage, Waltham. lam married. My wife is alive, and I had eight children. There are now seven living. I had seven daughters, and the youngest was named Harriet. She was born at Weymouth on January 17, twenty-three years last January. She would now have been in her twenty-fourth year. She was brought up as a milliner and dressmaker, and served a good part of her time at Waltham with Mrs. Bray. My daughter afterwards came to Loudon with a companion—l dent know if to go into business. In September of last year I believe she was living in Whitechapel, and she was doing so as far as I knew. She used very frequently to come home to visit her family, and used to stay days —a week or more at a time. lam not certain as to the last time I saw her alive, hut it was a week or two over a twelvemonth before I heard of this matter. It was more than a twelvemonth before this that I saw her. She then came down to my house, and appeared to be in good health. I knew that she had had one child, hut I did not know that she had had a second. After that time (a twelvemonth ago) I did not see her alive again. According to my judgment, she was not married, but I knew she went by the name of Mrs. King, and up to the time when I last saw her alive 1 had never seen a Mr. King. I have a daughter Elizabeth, married and named Taylor. She lives in London with her husband. After my daughter Harriet had visited me a year ago, as I have stated, and not hearing from her, I made inquiries about her. Several weeks after I had seen her had elapsed before I began to make inquiries; and when I commenced I continued them, and the family continued them. I remember hearing something about a Mr. Erieke. I heard this about nine or ten months ago, and in consequence of that I went to the AVhitechapel-road, to an auctioneer’s office, to inquire about Mr. Erieke. I was accompanied by Air. Fowler, and after these inquiries I went and saw the prisoner AVainwright, whom I had not seen before—to my knowledge. I saw the prisoner at his house in AVhitechapel-road. I know him then as Air. AVainwright. I told him who I was, and I said, “ AVliat has become of my daughter ! I wish to see her.” I said, “ Let me see her, dead or alive ; I am Harriet Lane’s father.” The prisoner replied that he knew nothing of her; that she had gone away with another man—the Air. Eriske or Freike, to whom we had been before. I said I was determined to hud her out, and if I did not get the knowledge from him I would use stronger powers. He gave h description of another man with whom he said she had gone, but I could not make anything of the description. AVhen he mentioned Air. Friske’s name we (Air. Fowler and I) showed the prisoner a letter which we had received from Air. Friske. He took the letter and read it. I cannot remember what he said beyond that the person to whom that letter was sent was not the man with whom she had gone away, but that it was a man without any moustache. The letter we had received from Air. Friske was in my daughter’s handwriting. AVhen the prisoner took the letter he opened it and looked it down as if reading it. AVitness said it was in the handwriting of his daughter Harriet, and though he could not read he knew her writing from seeing her write often.

The letter was then read as follows : “ Sunday night.

“ Aly dear Air. Erieke, —I trust you will pardon my writing to you, but I feel that I ought to apologise for my rude behaviour to you last evening, after the kindness I have received from you. I had been very worried and annoyed during the day, which caused me to he very excited. I felt very sorry that you left me cross. I did not go out, as you wished me not. I have thought of the subject you spoke of, and think that if Harry and yourself will see me to-morrow evening we may be enabled to arrange matters satisfactorily. As the time is now very short please write by return, and let me know if you will call or if I should meet you anywhere. For the future I will promise to behave more ladylike. Should I not hear from you I shall conclude I am not forgiven.—l remain, very truly yours,

“L. Ktxg.” The witness proceeded :—After we had talked with the prisoner, and I had said that I would know about my daughter, he said, “ AVell, if it comes to an exposure it must” ; and I replied, “AVell, I don’t want to expose you, but an exposure will come worse for you thau it ■will for me.” I caunot remember more, and that was the only time I had an interview with him. Last week I heard that he was in custody. I was shown by Inspector Fox some portions of a body. Air. Poland: Arc you able to say whose body that was ?—I say, as I said then, that it is the body of my daughter Harriet. I know her by her hair, small frame, small feet and legs. The color of tlie hair on the head was light sandy hair, exactly the same as my daughter’s. Her height was about sft.

By Air. Besley : I have been living at AValtham twelve years. Afy daughter was at Airs, Bray’s, milliner, of AValthain-cross, half a mile oil' my house, and she lived at home as a member of my family. She ceased to be a member of my family about four years ago, I think. Since she left home there may have been intervals of six weeks <>r so between her coining home, but I don’t remember when. I did not go to see her in London. I never entered any lodgings of her’s in London. It is since her total absence from home that I have learnt she had two children, and this came to my knowledge before last Christmas. One of my daughters told me. I knew some months before the first child was born of her condition. She was not absent for weeks before and after the birth of the fh’st child, for she was with ns a day or two before that birth. She was not under the necessity of seeing us

frequently for the purpose of getting money. Though I cannot read writing, I can identify her handwriting, for I saw her so frequently write. I do not know that any other letter from my daughter Harriot has been handed to the Treasury by my family. I think it was in August, 1874, and not July, that my daughter was at AValtham for tlie last time. I cannot say whether it was in 1873 or 1874 that a visit of a week was paid by my daughter to my house. The marriage of my daughter with “Air. King,” was published in the local paper of AValtham Abbey, and from that and from my family I heard she had changed her name; but from that time I never sought to see the man who had given her that change of name. AVhen I went with Air. Fowler to Air. Erieke, that was the first time I had seen that person. AVhen we went to AVainwright and took him the letter, he said it was a very strange thing that Erieke should say he knew nothing about the matter contained in the letter. The prisoner held tlie letter in his hands for a minute or two, but I cannot say that the conversation was going on at the same time. The prisoner said, “If it comes to an exposure it must,” and I referred to the illegitimate children by my daughter when I said, “ The exposure would be worse to you than to me.” Aly daughter had a scald iu childhood on her leg, but I did not examine her for that ; but I knew her by her feet and hair. It is ten years since I saw the mark, and it was small. Aly daughter was not called Airs. King before she left us, and it was then published that the youngest daughter of John Lane had married Air. King. By Air. Benson : I am accurate when I state that she. was at home just before the birth of her first child ; but I could not find out who was the father. Her mother went to nurse her in London for a day or two, but I did not go. Ido not know where the girl was confined. It was not kept a secret; it was talked over by the family at home, but I did not seek to know where it was.

Elizabeth Taylor, the wife of AVilliam Taylor, living at 7, Clarendon-mews, Hydc-park-square, was next examined : Aly father is John Lane, and Harriet Lane was my youngest sister. I knew she had two children, the first was born in 1872 (August). She was living in St. Peters-street, Hackney-road, at the time, known by the name of Airs. King. I knew who Air. King was—he was Air. AVainwright, a brushmaker, of AVhitechapel-road. He was, I understood from my sister, the father of my sister’s two children. After that, in 1574, my sister lived in Sydney-square, Commercialroad, at No. 3, and she lived as Airs. King. The children lived with her in August, 1574, when I last saw her alive. Up to that time she had been in the habit of frequently visiting me at my place. She used to come once a week or a fortnight, and if she did not come she wrote to me by letter. She had been thus in the habit of coming to me and writing to me since the time the first child was born. After this visit of mine to 3, Sydney-square, I heard next of her by letter from a Airs. AVilmore. I went into the country for a fortnight, from about the 24th of August, and it was after my return that I had a letter from Airs. AVihnore. whom I knew as a friend of my sister. The letter cannot be found, but in consequence of that I went to see Airs. AVilmore, and we tried to find my sister. AVe went to Air. AVainwright’s—to the prisoner. I saw the prisoner at 84, AVhitechapel-road, the place where the fire was afterwards. I had not seen the prisoner before. It was at the latter part of September last year I went. I said to the prisoner, “ I have come on a very unpleasant affair. Can you tell me where my sister, Airs. King, is ?” AVhen I told him that I was her sister he said, “ I can see it ; I have no doubt about that.” He then said, “I cannot tell you where she is ; I only wish I could.” He added, “ The day before your sister was missing I gave her £ls, and she said she was going to Brighton, and I gave her £lO on tlie last day to get an outfit.” He said she got au outfit to go to Brighton in AVhitechapel. He did not say when she was missing. The prisoner went on to say that she had gone to Brighton too, and with a gentleman who had come into a large fortune—with a Air. Frieke. The prisoner said, “ I daresay when they have spent their fortune they will return, and I will let you know.” He said that on the day she was missing he waited in his shop until ten o’clock at night, thinking she would return, and he thought they had gone to the Pavilion Theatre. He said he went to Brighton to see her there, but did not see her. He did not say when he went. I asked him if he would let me know when he heard from her, and he said, “ I will do my best to find her.” I gave him my address, and he mote it down. I did not then speak of the two children of my sister. Before I left he asked me if I wrote to him to he kind enough to write, “ Air. King, care of Air. AVainwright,” at some number in AVhite-chapel-road. I did not hear anything for some weeks, and then I received a letter from the prisoner (handed in). I received it before I saw him the second time. In consequence of it I went and saw him. It was about two months after our first interview, and I saw him at 84, AVhitechapel-road. Up to that time I had not heard of my sister. I said to him “ From what I hear you have had some tidings of my sister.” lie replied, “Yes, in a cab ; aud you may depend she is all right and in her luxuries. She will he back when she has had her frolic out.” He said if was his foreman who had seen her in a cab. I said, “ How about the two dear children ?” He replied, “ They are all right, and are being taken care of by Airs. AVilmore, and I am paying 255. a week—do you not think that handsome?” I said it was, and then lie said, “ I shall not take your sister hack ; can you blame me ?” I said, “ Not under present circumstances.” He said what he was doing in regard to the children he should continue to do, and as soon as the first child was old enough ho would send it to school. That was all that passed on that occasion. I saw him a third time a few weeks after’ the second interview—l think it was about November. Airs, AVilmore was with me. Up to that time I had not heard of my sister

or from her. AVe went to make inquiry. I went to 84 AVhitechapel-road. He said he had received a letter, and a telegram—the letter was from Charing-cross and the telegram was from Dover. The words, as read by him in the letter, which he fetched from upstairs, to the best of my recollection (for he did not give them to me), were : —“ I have the missing lady under my protection. I dare you or any one else to annoy us in any way.” That was all in the letter, I believe. The telegram was : “ AVe are now off to Paris, and mean to have a jolly ‘spree.’ ” No name of the sender was, as far as I can recollect, given. The letter, he said, came from Charing-cross Hotel, and the telegram from Dover. I have only seen the prisoner on those occasions. I have never seen my sister, or had any letter from her since a year ago. I have not been able to trace her in any way. Last week I went to St. Saviour’s Church, and was shown a body there. ’ By the view of the back of the head I was able to identify it as that of my sister, Harriet Lane. Then, too, she had a decayed tooth on the right side of the upper jaw, and I knew her by that—it is the same as my sister’s. Another sister and Harriet were photographed together, and Harriet was shorter than I am. She used to wear a wedding-ring and keeper. Inspector Fox here handed to tlie witness the wedding-ring and keeper found in the grave.

The AVitness : They were rings like those produced. Aly sister wore earnings, hut I could not describe them. She used to “do up ” her hair with a large “ pad” at the back and hair-pins. (A “pad” was handed—that taken in the hair of the body, and the witness, shedding tears bitterly on seeing it, said her her sister’s was similar to that.) Aly reasons for believing in the identity of the remains are the back of the head, the decayed tooth, and the color of the hair. I have not the slightest doubt of the remains being those of my sister. The letter given in evidence as received from Air. Frieke is in my sister’s handwriting. AVilliam Taylor, the husband of the last witness, was called, and gave evidence as to the identity. He said he had known the deceased for years, and he, on seeing the prisoner was in custody on this charge, went to the police. He described his sister-in-law to them, and on his stating that she had small feet, long fingers on small hands, fair hair, worn in a peculiar manner, and a decayed tooth in a particular part of her mouth, they allowed him to see her. He had not the slightest doubt as to her identity.

The inquiry was then adjourned until October 1.

The following statement made by Alice Day has been published I have been, says Alice, on the stage nine years altogether, first at the the Pavilion, when it was under the management of Messrs. D’Auban and AVarde. Latterly I have played a little in character parts, and on that Saturday night—which I shall have always have cause to remember I was to have appeared iu the “ AVoman in Red." I made the acquaintance of AVainwright several years ago, he having been a constant visitor behind the scenes for a Ion" time before I went into the theatre ; in factg until the last few months he seemed to be as free of the stage as the stage manager himself. It was his habit to converse with everybody, but not more with me than with anybody else amongst the ladies of the ballet. At times, however, he showed me somewhat more special attention, and occasionally—and I must admit, thoughtlessly—l accompanied him, when not engaged at the Pavilion Theatre, to the west-end theatres. He never saw me home in his life on any occasion ; but I have, in the company of others, partaken of refreshments with him at various public-houses in the neighborhood of the theatre. I have been in one or other of his shops many times, but it has always been when his shopmen have been there, or I have been accompanied by some female friend. Once I remember purchasing a hairbrush and paying the shopman for it; at another time a toothbrush. Iu fact, as everybody iu the theatre knew him, his shop was patronised by many of those who were employed there, any article we wanted being sent for by the stage-manager to AVainwright’s. One of the ladies of the ballet on getting married about Alidsummer last, bought of him all the brooms and brushes she required for her housekeeping. Lately his visits seemed to fall off, as his money got short. Before that time he would send for champagne and sandwiches for the members of the ballet corps, and as he was a favorite with all, nobody felt any reason for declining his kindness. It has been said that I frequently met him by appointment at times when I was not going with him to the theatres ; hut all such scandalous reports I strenuously deny. I repeat that I have never been alone with him in other places, certainly not, as has been stated, in either of his houses in AVhitechapel. I have never alone called upon him at the shops. I have often spoken to him when I have seen him standing at the door, while on my way to the theatre, and then it has only been “ Good evening.” I never went in, except in company with a lady friend, and that simply as a customer. I attended rehearsal on the Saturday afternoon, and afterwards went to the treasury at the East London Theatre for my week's salary, with which I proceeded home, where I remained till after four o’clock. Then I took a walk, and meeting with one of tlie company, I went with him into the Duke of Clarence Inn, at the corner of Greentiekl-street, aud we had some refreshment there. I had come out of the public-house, and had just parted with my friend, when I turned and saw AVainwright coming towards the spot where I was standing, and, as I thought, coming towards the tavern. I said to him, “ Hallo, Air. AVainwright, where are you going ? lam going for a walk, to pass an hour away, until it is time for business.” Then he said, quickly, “ Come along \vith me to London Bridge aud I said, “Ifldo go with you, you must bring me back by a quarter to six.” He said, “ All right; I have a cab waiting.” Accordingly, I followed him, at a distance of about two yards, to a four-wheeled cab that was standing near a chemist’s shop. Ho opened

the door of the cab, and I got in. I did not see Stokes, neither did I hear where the cabman was directed to go. The cab turned, and we proceeded towards the City. On the front seat, lying side by side, were two parcels, packed in American cloth. I did not take any particular notice of them, as I had before accompanied him with similar parcels to warehouses in the City. I was not at all inquisitive, and Wainwright, whose habit it was sometimes to be silent, did not tell me what they contained, but gave me a newspaper, and said, “ Read that ; I have got something to think about.” As he was smoking a cigar, I did not at first notice any smell; but, as we proceeded, I did notice something smelling very unpleasantly, which I attributed to the action of the sun on the American leather. There was nothing said about the parcels containing hair ; in fact, he never spoke one word after giving me the newspaper, until we stopped at some place like a bank, on the other side of London Bridge. Then he said, “I am going to take these parcels to a warehouse round the corner here. I’ll take one first, and, if the warehouse is open, I’ll leave it and come back for the other, My business for the night will then be concluded, and I shall have nothing more to do.” I waited in the cab, when the policeman came up, when I became so flurried, I did not know what I said. It has been stated that I said I was waiting for my husband, and, in my agitated state, I may have said so. I have already said that I was not at the place of meeting by appointment, but by mere accident. Wainwright was a customer at the public-house ; and when I saw him, he appeared to me as if he was just going in there. Greenfield-street is a few minutes’ walk from home, and but a very short distance from Whitechapel Church. I never heard Wainwright speak of Mrs. King—never. Her name was never mentioned to me, and I never saw her to my knowledge. I never knew that he knew such a person, and I never saw them together. I never heard that he had illegitimate children—not even a whisper about it—till now. He must have been very quiet about it. There is no truth in the assertion that Mrs. King had seen me and Wainwright together, or that she ever threatened me. I say again that I never knew such a person. It has been said that I have received money from Wainwright—ten shillings a week. To that assertion I give the most emphatic denial. If I had had ten shillings a week from him—which would have been a considerable sum to me—l should have not have killed myself by working all day at the dressmaking and going on the stage at night. I am not particularly fond of the stage, though I was one of the front-row ladies in the ballet. To the question, “How were you treated in prison?” she replied, “ Very kindly by everybody, from the governor of the prison downwards. They have treated me as a girl in my position ought to be treated. I did not hear one unkind word from either the wardens of the gaol or the police at the station. All were very kind indeed. I never felt afraid ; I knew I had a clear conscience. I have got somewhat thinner from the confinement, but I always eat well. So confident did I feel of being discharged on Tuesday that I promised to see a particular lady friend next Saturday. I was all the time carefully guarded, and had for company in my cell two girls under remand who had attempted to commit suicide. I said to the warder, “ These are pretty companions for me,” but I really had nothing to complain of. I can tell you a curious story. Every morning early, all the while I was confined, a little bird came and chirruped at the window of my cell, but never came in ; but on Tuesday morning, as I lay awake—about half-past five, as I suppose—the same little bird flew right inside th« cell, began to chirrup as usual, and only flew out again on being frightened by one of the women. One of them said, “ There’s good news for you,’ and I said, ‘ That bird has been chirruping here every morning.’ ” With reference to her having to make her way past Wainwright on her way out of the dock, she made a point of saying, “ I don’t think I even touched him. lam told that he put his hand upon my shoulder, and said something to me ; but I neither felt the touch of his hand nor heard a syllable he said. I was too glad to get out of the dock to notice anything that was said or done. As to my defence, I had left it entirely in the hands of Air. Louis Lewis, and intended to be guided by him alone.”