did. If the jury came to the conclusion that it was the hand of

prisoner who shot poor Mr. Dyson, and if they found that the motive which prompted him to do it was a malicious and a premeditated motive, then he thought they could come to no other conclusion than that the prisoner committed the crime charged, and that he did it with malice aforethought.

Mr. Johnson, of the firm of Holmes and Johnson, architects and surveyors, of Sheffield, produced a plan of Bannercross, showing the house in which Mr. Dyson lived, and the gardens and fields adjoining.

MRS. DYSON’S EVIDENCE.

Mrs. Dyson, whose appearance in the witness-box aroused great interest in court, said she was the widow of Arthur Dyson, who was shot at Bannercross in 1876.

She lived with her husband in Britannia-road, Darnall, and at that time the prisoner resided in the next house.

She knew him then as Charles Peace, a picture-framer, and he frequently visited their house until her husband, annoyed at his visits, sent him a card requesting him not to annoy his family.

In July of the same year the prisoner threatened to blow out their brains, and put a pistol within six inches of her face.

[Sidenote: No. 92.]

A warrant was taken out against him for this, but he still continued to annoy them; so they removed on the 25th of October to Bannercross, where they hoped to be freed from his disagreeable visits.

But the very night they removed the prisoner appeared at Bannercross, and said to her “You see I am here to annoy you wherever you go.”

On the 29th of November, about ten minutes past eight in the evening, she went to the closet behind the house, and when she opened the door to come out she was confronted by the prisoner, who stood near the closet doorway with a revolver in his hand. He said, “Speak, or I’ll fire.”

She screamed, and stepped back into the closet and shut herself in; but, hearing her husband’s footsteps in the yard she came out. Prisoner was then in the passage leading to the road; but, being followed by her husband, he turned round and fired.

That bullet struck the wall, and on getting to the bottom of the passage the prisoner fired again. The second shot struck her husband in the temple, and he fell.

She screamed and the neighbours came, but in the meantime the prisoner had scaled the wall on the opposite side of the road and fled.

Her husband did not speak after he was shot, and died the same night about eleven o’clock.

Cross-examined by Mr. Lockwood: Before going to the closet I put my little boy to bed. The bedroom is in the front. There was a light in the room.

My husband at this time was downstairs reading, and when I went to the closet I left him still reading. I said nothing to him before going to the closet. I had to pass through the room where he was. When I heard him coming I came out of the closet.

[A plan of the premises was then put into witness’s hands, and she said she did not understand it very well.]

Cross-examination resumed: I was only four or five feet from the passage leading to the closet when my husband passed me to go down to the prisoner. I could see him plainly, and all that he did. He was going rather slowly.

I am prepared to swear that my husband never touched the prisoner before the shots were fired. He could not get near enough to him. Of course I cannot say what he intended doing.

I remember being before the coroner, but I cannot remember that I said to him that I could not say “whether my husband attempted to get hold of Peace or not;” but if I did say so it is correct.

The account which I gave to the coroner is the correct one. I cannot swear that my husband did not attempt to get hold of the prisoner, but I can swear that he did not succeed in doing so. I distinctly swear that he never touched the prisoner.

When were you first so certain of this?――I have been certain all the time.

Were you certain about it on the 24th of January last?――Yes; as certain as I am now.

When before the magistrates did you say this: “I cannot say. My husband did not get hold of the prisoner?” I cannot say that he did not try.

Mr. Lockwood contended that this was not an answer, and a conversation took place between Mr. Campbell Foster and the judge on the matter.

On the question being repeated, Mrs. Dyson said: I cannot swear I did not use the words just quoted. I will not swear I did not. Having heard the words, I still pledge my oath that my husband did not get hold of the prisoner. I don’t remember swearing before the magistrates that my husband didn’t get hold of the prisoner.

What I said before the magistrate is correct. I noticed how my husband fell. He fell on his back. Nothing touched him before he fell. I will swear that after the first shot was fired my husband did not get hold of the prisoner.

He did not catch hold of the prisoner’s arm which held the revolver, and the prisoner did not strike my husband on the chin and nose.

I will positively swear that my husband was never touched on the face except by the bullet which the prisoner fired.

How long have you known Peace?――Between three and four years. I never saw him before I saw him at Darnall. I cannot say whether I or my husband first made his acquaintance. He lived next door but one to us. My husband began to dislike him in the spring of 1876.

Was he jealous?――No.

Do you remember showing your husband a photo of yourself and the prisoner?――Yes. It was taken at the Sheffield fair.

How came you to be photographed together?――We went to the fair together with some children. The children were photographed, but we were in a separate picture. I cannot say whether it was the summer or winter fair. It was summer fair, but I cannot say whether it was the summer of 1876. It certainly was not in 1875.

If it was in the summer of 1876, how was it you were photographed with a man of whom your husband disapproved in the spring of that year?――I think there must be a mistake in the dates. I cannot say. I had known the prisoner for more than a year in November, 1876. I may have known him since the spring of the previous year, but I won’t be certain. I cannot say when we went to Darnall. I mean the jury to understand that I cannot tell within three or four months. When before the coroner I stated that we had been in England three years, and that we lived for a year with my husband’s mother. I also stated that afterwards we lived at Highfield. We did not remain there more than four or five months. We next went to Heeley, and remained three or four months. From there we went to Darnall. I still say I do not remember when we went to Darnall. We were there a few months before the prisoner. He framed four pictures for us. I remember a conversation about his framing the portrait of my husband’s mother. I asked the prisoner to frame it. I mentioned the matter to the prisoner or his daughter, but I cannot say when it was. I did not write to ask him to send the frame. He never sent the frame. I never wrote asking him not to send it. I know nothing about the matter.

Mr. Lockwood: Look at that letter.――Witness, after looking at it, said: It’s not mine, and I don’t know whose it is.

Another letter was then handed to her, and she gave a similar answer.

Mr. Lockwood next handed to the witness a scrap of paper on which she wrote some words when before the magistrates, and asked her to look at it. This having been done, Mr. Lockwood asked: Did anybody know except yourself, your husband, and the prisoner, that you wanted the portrait of your husband’s mother framed?――His wife and daughter knew.

Did you talk to them about it?――I mentioned it to the daughter. I remember going on one occasion to Mansfield. That was in the summer of 1876. I don’t recollect the month. Mrs. Padley went with me. I had not told Peace that I was going. I went by an afternoon train to Mansfield.

Did you ever write to the prisoner, telling him you were going by the nine o’clock train?――No.

Did you tell him he must not go by train, “because he (Dyson) will go down with me,” and also say, “Don’t let him see anything if you meet me in the Wicker. Hope nothing will turn up to prevent it. Love to Janie?” Did you write that?――No.

Just look at that (handing up the note just read).――That is not my handwriting. I was not in the habit of dealing with Francis Walker, wholesale and retail grocer and Italian warehouseman, at High-street, Attercliffe.

At any rate, when you got to Mansfield he was there?――Yes.

And you told him you were going?――No.

Can you account for his being there?――No, I can’t. He was a constant source of annoyance to me, and was always following me.

Do you remember the prisoner giving you a ring?――Yes. He gave it to me in the winter; at least I cannot tell when it was, or the year.

Was it before or after you were photographed together?――That I cannot say. I cannot say, too, if I showed it to my husband. I know I threw it away. The ring did not fit me.

Did you ever write this: “I do not know what train we shall go by, for I have a great deal to do this morning? Will see as soon as I possibly can. I think it will be easier after you leave; he won’t watch so. The ring fits the little finger. Many thanks. Love to Janey. I will tell you what I think of, when I see you about arranging matters, if it will. Excuse the scribble.” Now, did you write that?――No.

Did you ever tell him that the ring would not fit?――No.

Are you now prepared to swear that you did not write to acknowledge the ring?――I did not.

Mr. Lockwood then asked the witness whether she preferred a steel or a quill pen to write with, and Mrs. Dyson said it made no difference.

A steel pen was given to her, and she wrote as follows from the dictation of the learned counsel: “I write to you these few lines to thank you for all your kindness, which I will never forget. I will write you a note when I can.”

Mr. Lockwood: That is your best writing?――Yes.

Witness continued: On one occasion I went to a public-house with the prisoner, but I cannot remember the date. I cannot say where the public-house is. The prisoner told me that there was a picture gallery there. My husband became dissatisfied after that.

Was it in consequence of your going to the public-house with the prisoner that he became dissatisfied?――No.

Are you sure of that?――Yes.

Did you tell him you had been to a public-house with the prisoner?――Yes.

Was it after that he became dissatisfied?――I can’t say exactly. I know a public-house in the same street as that in which the prisoner lived. I don’t know it by name, nor do I know a man named Craig as the landlord. I have been to a public-house where there was a picture gallery, and there I had a bottle of “pop.”

Did you go to another public-house with the prisoner?――Yes.

Did you see Craig?――I don’t know him.

Craig was then called into court, and Mrs. Dyson was asked, “Have you not been to the ‘Marquis of Waterford’ public-house, in Russell-street, Sheffield, on several occasions, with the prisoner?”――I may have been once or twice, but not more often.

When you have been with Peace has he not paid for drink for you?――I have only had “pop” with him.

How many times have you been with him?――I am sure of once, but I don’t know that I have been any more times.

Do you remember when this was?――No.

Did you tell your husband?――I told him that Peace had introduced me to his brother.

Did you tell your husband that Peace had taken you to a public-house and paid for drink for you?――Yes.

And after that he became dissatisfied?――Yes.

Do you know the Norfolk Dining Rooms in Exchange-street?――No.

Have you ever been to some dining rooms, near the Market-place, with the prisoner?――Yes.

Alone, I mean?――Never alone.

Never alone, you say. Call in John Wilson. (Witness called in.) Now look at that man. Did you ever see him in those dining rooms?――Not to my knowledge.

Do you remember being introduced to that man by Peace?――I never remember seeing him before.

Look at him again.――I have looked at him. I will swear I have not been to some dining rooms with Peace on several occasions. I have been to some near the market once. Then we were not alone. There were two children with us. They were my own little boy, and a child of Mrs. Padmore’s. I had refreshment there. That was at the time of the Sheffield fair――the same fair at which I was photographed――the same day that I had been photographed with Peace. And these children went to the dining-room.

What had become of your husband?――He was away from home.

Was he not at the fair?――Yes. I saw him there and met him in the evening after the photograph was taken. My husband did not come into the fair until evening.

Do you know a music-hall in Spring-street, Sheffield?

Witness: What is the name of it.

Mr. Lockwood: The “Star.”

Witness: Is it a picture-gallery?

Mr. Lockwood: I don’t know.

A man named Goodlad was called into court, and Mr. Lockwood asked the witness: Have you ever been to the “Star” music-hall with Peace?――I don’t know it by that name.

Have you been to any music-hall with Peace?――I have been to a place where there is a picture-gallery, and where it looked as if singing went on. There was a small stage and tables and chairs.

Do you remember being introduced to that man by Peace at a music-hall?――I never remember seeing his face before, except at the Town Hall.

Have you not been three or four times to the music-hall in Spring-street?――No; I have only been once. I know a public-house at Darnall, called the “Halfway House.” To my knowledge, I have never had drink there which was put down to Peace.

That won’t do. Are you prepared to swear that you have not had drink there on Peace’s credit?――Never to my knowledge.

Though the witness was pressed severely on the point, this was the only answer that could be obtained.

I have shown you some letters――have you written a letter to the prisoner?――No.

Do you know a little girl named Elizabeth Hutton? Call Elizabeth Hutton.

On the child coming forward, the learned counsel asked: Can you swear you never sent that child with a note to Peace?――Not with a note.

What did you send her with?――I sent her with receipts for some pictures which the prisoner had framed. He was in the habit of asking my husband to write out his receipts and letters.

Now look at the child again. Will you swear that child has not brought back notes from Peace to you?――She brought me one, and I returned it. I can’t say when this was, but it was after Peace removed to the opposite side of the street at Darnall. I never gave the child anything for taking notes to Peace. I don’t know a man named Kirkham. (Kirkham was here called.) I never gave him any notes for Peace, but I gave him a couple of receipts. Those receipts were for picture-framing. Kirkham has not brought notes from Peace.

Can you swear that?――Not to my knowledge, he has not.

Can you swear one way or the other?――I can swear he has not――not to my knowledge.

Did you ever send that litttle girl for drink to the “Halfway House?”――Not to my knowledge.

By that I understand that you won’t swear either one way or the other?――I have sent her for beer, but not to the “Halfway House” in particular.

Now I want to bring you to the night before the murder. Were you, on the 28th of November, 1876, at the “Stag Hotel,” Sharrow?――Yes. I was there with Mrs. Padmore’s little boy. He is about five or six years of age.

Was anybody else with you?――No.

Mrs. Redfern, the landlady of “The Stag,” was called into the court, and Mr. Lockwood asked: Was there not a man with you?――No; I was by myself.

Now (looking at Mrs. Redfern), will you swear that?――A man followed me in and sat down beside me.

Was that man the prisoner?――No.

Will you swear that?――I would almost swear that the prisoner was not the man.

That will not do. On your oath, did not this man go into the “Stag” on that night with you?――No, he did not.

Did he not follow you in?――I don’t know that he did, unless he made himself different from what he is now.

On your oath was it not this man?――To the best of my belief it was not. He seemed a man about thirty-five years of age.

What did you mean by saying just now that you would almost swear he was not the man?――Because he was so much in the habit of disguising himself.

So it might have been him? Did you speak to the man?――I don’t remember.

Did he speak to you?――He asked me where I had been, or where I was going, or something of that kind.

Did you answer him? Yes, I passed some remark.

Did the man go out when you went out?――Yes, he followed me out.

Do you mean, on your oath, to say that you did not see the prisoner, and that he did not tell you he would come to see you the next night?――No, he did not.

Did he say anything to you?――Nothing particular, because I did not take any notice of him.

Not after you left the public-house?――I did not speak to him after leaving the public-house.

Did you think at the time that it might have been the prisoner?――I had not the slightest thought. I had not been in the fair that night. I passed by. I might have said to Mrs. Redfern that I had been. I had not been in any public-house before going into the “Stag.” I had previously been to the house of some friends of mine named Muddiman.

Did you tell Peace that you were going there?――Witness: What had he to do with it?

Answer the question.――Mr. Muddiman does not live at Sharrow.

Will you swear you did not tell him that?――I did not. I did not see the prisoner at all.

How long were you at Mr. Muddiman’s?――Perhaps an hour or so.

And from there you went to the “Stag”――Yes.

Witness continued: I have seen the landlady of the “Halfway House” at Darnall here.

Have you ever been turned out of that house on account of being drunk?――No.

What! never?――No. I have never been drunk in my life.

Will you swear this?――Yes.

Bring in the landlady. Now, will you swear you have never been drunk in this woman’s house?――Well I might have been slightly inebriated. (Laughter.)

Will you swear you have never been turned out of the house for being “slightly inebriated?”――No, not to my knowledge.

Mr. Lockwood: Quite true. You might not have been aware of it. That is all I ask you.

Mrs. Dyson was then re-examined by Mr. Foster, who asked: You have been questioned as to whether your husband got hold of Peace. Are you quite sure that he never tried to get hold of Peace?

The question was objected to by Mr. Lockwood.

Continuing, Mr. Foster asked: Can you tell me how your husband fell?――The witness: On his back rather slanting.

Was that in the passage or in the little court?――It was in the little court.

What is the width of the court?――It is about twice as wide as the passage.

Did you observe when he fell whether the side of his face went against the wall or not?――He fell close to the wall, slanting, and then on his back.

You have been asked about going to a dining-room, near the market, with two children. I think you answered that you went for refreshments?――Yes. The children were hungry, and I went to give them some refreshment.

My friend has asked you about a man bringing a note to you from Peace. Is that correct?――Yes, but I sent it back again.

Have any others been sent to you by Peace at all?――Not to my knowledge.

My friend got out the last answer from you about Mrs. Norton, that you might have left the house “slightly inebriated.” How did it occur?――I cannot tell. I might be slightly inebriated, but I cannot tell.

The Judge: You said the prisoner came to the closet door?――Yes.

How long was it after that the first shot was fired?――About a minute or two? It may be a little more.

What time elapsed between the first shot and the second?――About a second; it was almost immediately.

So far as you could see, did he stand in the same place when he fired both shots;――No; he stood on the lower step when he fired the second shot, and in the yard when he fired the first.

How far was your husband away from the prisoner at the time?――They were about four feet apart. There were only two steps between them. The prisoner was on the bottom step.

This concluded the examination of the witness, and the court adjourned for half an hour.

On the re-assembling of the court, Mr. Lockwood said if the case for the prosecution lasted till five o’clock he should ask his lordship to adjourn the defence till the following day.

His Lordship said that if it would be a convenience to Mr. Lockwood, he would certainly do so.

Mr. Lockwood added that if the case for the prosecution was over before five, he should not then ask his lordship to adjourn, but would proceed with the defence and finish the case that evening.

Mary Ann Gregory, wife of John Gregory, grocer, Bannercross, said she lived next door to the house occupied by the Dysons, and on the night of the murder the prisoner who had previously visited the shop, came again and asked to see her husband, who was away. The prisoner left the house, going down the road. An hour afterwards she saw Mrs. Dyson walking towards the closet, and two minutes afterwards heard her scream loudly. She told Mr. Dyson to go to his wife immediately, and he went directly along the passage. She then heard a banging noise, or rather two noises, and heard footsteps coming up the passage. The next thing she saw was Mr. Dyson bleeding from the head as he was propped up in a chair in his own house.

In answer to Mr. Lockwood, the witness said she heard Mrs. Dyson scream within a couple of minutes of her going into the closet. When Mr. Dyson left to go down in the direction of the closet he walked quickly.

Sarah Colgraves, wife of Thomas Colgraves, of Dobbin-hill, said she remembered going to the shop kept by Gregory on the night of the 29th of November, about half-past seven o’clock. She met the prisoner about thirty yards from the shop, and he asked her if she knew who lived in the second house down the road. She said she did not. He asked if she knew whether they were strangers, and she replied in the affirmative. The prisoner then said, “Do you mind going to the house to say that an elderly gentleman wants to speak to her?” Before that he had said, “You don’t know them?” and she replied, “No.” He then said, “I will tell you. She is my b―――― ――――.” She told the prisoner he had better mind what he said, particularly to strangers, and told him to take the message himself. About ten minutes afterwards she saw the prisoner come out of the passage by the side of the house.

This witness was not cross-examined.

Charles Brassington, living in the Lane End, Ecclesall, said he was on the road near Bannercross, on the 29th of November, standing opposite the Bannercross Hotel, about twenty yards from Mr. Gregory’s shop. It was about eight o’clock. The night was moonlight, and he noticed the prisoner walking to and fro on the causeway. Standing beneath a lamp at the time, he could see the prisoner quite distinctly. Peace approached him and said, “Have you any strange people come to live about here?” He replied, “I don’t know.” Peace then showed him some photos and letters, and desired him to read the latter. He said he could not. The prisoner then told him that he would make it warm for those strangers, for he would shoot them, and after saying this Peace walked down the road towards Gregory’s. He next saw the prisoner in Newgate, walking round the yard along with several others, and he was certain he was the man who uttered the threat at Bannercross.

In cross-examination the witness was severely questioned as to the date when he saw the prisoner and had the conversation with him. He admitted that he could not himself tell the date, but had been told by other witnesses.

Charles Wyville, living at Ecclesall, said on the night of the murder he was in the Bannercross Hotel, when his attention was attracted by hearing two reports of a gun or pistol. On his going to the door to see what was the matter he heard Mrs. Dyson screaming “murder.” He went in the direction of the screams and saw Mr. Dyson lying on the ground, with Mrs. Dyson holding his head.

Thomas Wilson, scythe-maker, of Brincliffe-hill, said he was outside the Banner-cross Hotel about twenty minutes past eight on the night of the 29th of November, when he heard two reports from a revolver. The sound came from Gregory’s house, and on looking that way he saw a man run across the road from the end of Bannercross-terrace and get over the wall on the opposite side. It was a moonlight night, but as the man was crossing the road the moon was under a cloud and he did not see the man distinctly. But he heard Mrs. Dyson scream, and on going into the passage from which he had seen the man emerge, he found Mr. Dyson lying on the ground and Mrs. Dyson was holding up his head.

Mr. J. W. Harrison, of Sheffield, surgeon, said on the 29th of November, he was called by Thos. Wilson to see Mr. Dyson, who had been placed on a chair in his own house. He was unconscious, bleeding from the temple, and there was a quantity of blood on the floor. He laid the injured man on the floor and attended to him, but he did not recover consciousness, and died about half-past ten o’clock the same night. Subsequently he made a _post-mortem_ examination. On the left temple there was a valvular wound in the skin, flesh, and muscles. On removing the scalp he found in the substance of the brain, running upwards and backwards, a groove, and on the right side of the brain he discovered the bullet produced. It had entered the temple and passed in an oblique line to the right side of the head. The cause of death was the entrance of the bullet to the brain.

By Mr. Lockwood: He found some light abrasions on the nose and chin. He did not think they were caused by a fist, because in the case of abrasions the skin was grazed. A fist he did not think would produce the effect, not even if there was a ring on the finger. The abrasions seemed to have been caused by sand. At the coroner’s inquest he might have said he noticed a bruise on the nose and chin as if Mr. Dyson had fallen on his face. That really was correct, and he would adhere to that statement.

Police-constable Ward stated that on the 30th of November he searched in a field opposite Mr. Dyson’s house at Bannercross. The field was divided from the house by a road, a garden, and a wall. About fifteen yards from the wall dividing Mr. Dyson’s garden from the field he found a bundle of papers, and amongst them Mr. Dyson’s card.

At this stage a discussion took place between the counsel on either side and the learned judge in regard to putting in the letters found by this witness.

Mr. Campbell Foster objected to their being put in, on the ground that they were irrelevant; but Mr. Lockwood contended that his learned friend had gone too far, and that, inasmuch as he had opened the letters to the jury, he was bound to put them in now. His lordship entertained a contrary opinion, and consequently none of the documents were brought before the court.

Inspector Bradbury produced the bullet found by the surgeon in Mr. Dyson’s brain.

At the request of Mr. Lockwood, witness produced the photograph of Mrs. Dyson and Peace taken in the fair ground.

He said it was handed over to him by Mr. Jackson, the chief constable at Sheffield.

Mrs. Dyson was here recalled, and in answer to Mr. Lockwood she said the photograph was that to which she referred in her evidence.

This was the whole of the evidence regarding the murder, and Mr. Foster proposed to call evidence of threats used by the prisoner against the Dysons in July, 1876.

Mr. Lockwood objected to this course, but his lordship ruled that the evidence was admissible.

Rose Annie Sykes, wife of James Sykes, Darnall, proved that on the 1st July, 1876, she saw Mr. Dyson coming down the street. The prisoner was following him, and endeavouring to trip him up. On the night of the same day she saw the prisoner take a revolver out of his pocket, point it at Mrs. Dyson’s head, and say he would blow her brains out, and those of her husband, too.

Cross-examined by Mr. Lockwood: Witness said she heard nothing about a poker or a threat from Mrs. Dyson that she would use one. She did not hear about this time of any disturbance with the police, or of Mrs. Dyson being inebriated. She was quite certain about the date, because her little boy was born on the Tuesday following.

James Sykes, Darnall, said on a day in July, 1876, he was with his wife and Mrs. Dyson at Darnall. Peace came up at the time, and Mrs. Dyson said “That’s the man that’s always annoying my husband.” Peace replied, “I will annoy your husband and you and all.” At the same time he pulled a revolver out of his pocket, and presenting it at Mrs. Dyson, said, “I’ll blow your brains out and your husband’s too.” Peace then went up a passage, as if he was going into Mr. Dyson’s back door. He returned in a minute, and said, “Now, Jem, you be a witness that she struck me with a life-preserver.” Witness replied, “No, I will be a witness that you threatened to take her life.” He did not notice that Mrs. Dyson had a life-preserver, or that she struck at the prisoner.

During the examination of this witness Peace seemed somewhat excited, and kept muttering to himself.

Jane Wadmore said, in 1876 she was living in Britannia-road, Darnall. She knew both Mrs. Dyson and Mr. and Mrs. Sykes.

On the 1st of July in that year she was talking with them, when the prisoner came up. Mrs. Dyson said to him, “Why do you annoy my husband in the way you do?” Peace replied, “I will annoy you. I will blow your brains out and your husband’s too before I have done with you.” Peace then went in the direction of Mrs. Dyson’s back door, and subsequently went into his own house.

In answer to Mr. Lockwood, witness said she remembered going to Mansfield with Mrs. Dyson. Peace did not accompany them, but he followed them. On their arriving at Mansfield, she and Mrs. Dyson went to a house for some refreshments. Peace followed them right into the room, and called for a bottle of something to drink. She did not leave Mrs. Dyson alone with Peace on the occasion. Mrs. Dyson returned home with her. Peace did not ride in the same compartment, nor did he treat them to anything to drink. She did not accompany Mrs. Dyson to a fair, but she remembered that there was a fair in Whitweek of 1876.

Police-constable Robinson, of the Metropolitan Police Force, related the well-known circumstances under which he captured the prisoner when committing a burglary at Blackheath on the 10th of October, 1878, and described how he was fired at by Peace three times, and was wounded by the third shot.

Charles Brown, sergeant in the Metropolitan Police, who went to the assistance of the last witness, produced the revolver taken from the prisoner on the occasion.

James Woodward, a gunmaker, of Manchester, examined the revolver produced, and said it contained seven barrels. He believed it was of Belgian manufacture. The bullet produced found in Mr. Dyson’s head would fit the barrels.

In reply to Mr. Lockwood, witness said the revolver was of a common description.

This was the evidence for the prosecution.

Mr. Campbell Foster then summed up the evidence. He said, if it was true that Mrs. Dyson was on terms of intimacy with the prisoner, was that any justification for his shooting her husband? He characterised strongly the attempts made to discredit the evidence of Mrs. Dyson, and to prejudice the jury against her; and he showed what a conclusive case this was against the prisoner, even excluding the testimony of the murdered man’s widow. But taking Mrs. Dyson’s evidence, as reasonable men must take it, the case against the prisoner was irresistible.

Mr. Lockwood then rose (at five o’clock) to address the jury on behalf of the prisoner. In the course of a powerful appeal he declared that there had been a wild and merciless cry for blood, which was a disgrace to the country, and he spoke fiercely against the action of the press in this matter.

This remark elicited a low “Hear, hear,” from the prisoner, who listened with the utmost eagerness to the words advanced on his behalf.

The learned counsel maintained that he had placed Mrs. Dyson’s evidence in a light which necessitated a most suspicious examination on the part of the jury. It had been all-important to show at the time when Mr. Dyson became dissatisfied with his wife, she was still keeping up communication with the prisoner; and he claimed to have done this. Pointing especially to her prevarication as to the date of the fair at which she was photographed, the learned counsel claimed to have irretrievably shaken the testimony of Mrs. Dyson by means of the persons with whom he had confronted her. He dwelt emphatically upon her answers as to what transpired at the “Stag” Inn on the night before the murder, and her credibility, he insisted, was an essential element, because other than that woman and the prisoner no one could say what took place at Bannercross. The theory he adduced was that Peace fired a first shot to frighten Dyson; that a struggle ensued, and that during the struggle the pistol went off and killed the man. That was not murder, he pointed out. Mr. Lockwood maintained that there was strong corroborative evidence of a struggle. Turning to the letters, he commented strongly on the refusal of the prosecution to put them in evidence. They dared not place in the hands of the jury documents which might throw light upon the case, and might benefit the prisoner. Was not that an additional reason for looking with suspicion upon the woman who was accused of writing them? The whole case depended on Mrs. Dyson’s testimony, and it was not upon such evidence that human life should be taken. A detailed examination of the statements of the other witnesses followed, Mr. Lockwood maintaining that all these were consonant with his defence, or were fatal to Mrs. Dyson’s statement. He did not deny that his client had been a wild and reckless man, and it would be quite possible for one with such a temperament to use threats which he did not intend to carry out. He appealed to the jury to spare the man’s life. However bad he might have been, he was all the less fitted to die. But he had stronger grounds, and he asked whether on the uncorroborated testimony of that woman they were going to condemn this man to die? He concluded with a powerful appeal to the jury.

In summing up, the learned judge briefly defined murder as distinguished from manslaughter. The theory of the defence was that there had been a struggle between the two men; that the first shot had been fired merely to frighten, and that the second was the result of accident in the struggle. If that was the opinion of the jury, then they could not find the prisoner guilty of murder, but it was important to tell them that this was only a theory, and was not supported by a particle of evidence. The jury would be shown a revolver taken from the prisoner, which it was suggested was like the one, if not the same, which had been in his possession on the evening of the sad occurrence, and it would be for the jury to say for themselves whether they thought such a weapon could have gone off accidentally. To press home their theory the prisoner’s counsel discredited the testimony of Mrs. Dyson, and it would be for the jury to carefully weigh her evidence. At the same time he would remind them that the case did not rest alone on her evidence.

His lordship having remarked that no one could regret more than he did that the case had been talked about and written of so much, then proceeded to read over the evidence.

THE VERDICT AND THE SENTENCE.

The jury retired to consider their verdict at a quarter past seven, and returned into court ten minutes subsequently.

Having answered to their names,

The Clerk of Arraigns asked: Are you agreed upon your verdict? Do you find the prisoner at the bar guilty or not guilty?

The Foreman: Guilty.

The Clerk of Arraigns (addressing the prisoner): You have been indicted and convicted of wilful murder. Have you anything to say why sentence should not be passed upon you according to law?

The prisoner (very faintly): It’s no use my saying anything.

One of the ushers having called for silence,

His Lordship said: Charles Peace, after a most careful trial, and after every argument has been urged by your learned counsel on your behalf which ingenuity can suggest, you have been found guilty of the murder of Arthur Dyson by a jury of your country. It is not my duty, still less is it my desire, to aggravate your feelings at this moment, by a recapitulation of any portion of the details of what, I fear, I can only recall your criminal career. Imploring you, during the short time that may remain to you to live, to prepare for eternity, I pass upon you that sentence, and the only sentence, which the law permits in cases of this kind. (Here his lordship assumed the black cap.) The sentence is that you be taken from this place to the place from whence you came, and thence to a place of execution, and that you be there hanged by the neck until you are dead; and that your body be buried within the precincts of the prison in which you shall have been last confined after your conviction. And may the Lord have mercy on your soul!

The prisoner was then removed from the dock, but before leaving he expressed his thanks to Mr. W. E. Clegg for the efforts he had made in his behalf, and his appreciation of all that had been done for him.

Immediately after he was handcuffed, and leg chains were put upon him. The prisoners’ van was then backed to the inner gate of the Town Hall.

Peace walked along the corridors to the gate, muttering as he went. He was lifted into the van, and he was driven to Armley gaol shortly before eight.

Mr. Keene, the governor of the gaol, accompanied the van. There was one warder outside, and four warders were inside with Peace.

The only meals which he had on Tuesday, at the Town Hall, were breakfast and dinner, both of which he ate heartily.

Mrs. Dyson, attended by Inspector Bradbury, and several of the witnesses for the prosecution, left Leeds for Sheffield the same night by the 10.5 train.