The Illustrated Usk Observer and Raglan Herald

THE SANDYFORB MURDER. On Wednesday morning the trial of Mrs. Jessie M'Intosh or M'Lachlan, for the murder of Jessie M'Pherson Richardson, on the 4th or 5th of July last, within the house of Mr. John Fleming, accountant, 17, Sandyford-plitce, was proceeded with before-Lord Deas. The prisoner was brought from the north prison shortly after 8 o'clock, by which time a coEsiderable number of spectators had assembled outside the court buildings, and the court was densely filled before the hour at which the Court was to sit. Lord Deas having taken his seat, The case was called, and the prisoner was placed at the bar. She entered the dock with a quick step, but she was very pale, and evidently slightly agitated. She wore a straw bonnet, trimmed with white ribbon, interwoven with black lace; a lilac merino gown, and a light, black shawl. Mr. Adam Gifford, Advocate Depute, assisted by Mr. Andrew Mure, advocate, conducted the prosecution; Mr. Andrew Murray, W.S., Crown agent, was present. The defence was conducted by Andrew Kutherfurd Clark, Robert Maclean,' and Adam Bannatyne, Esqs., advocates; and her agents were Mr. J. A. Dixon, Mr. Strachan, and Mr. W. M. Wilson, writers, Glasgow. The prisoner pleaded. not guilty. Mr. John Fleming deponed: I reside in Sandyford-place, Glas- gow. It is a self-contained house, No. 17. There is a ground fiat, street flat, and a flat above. The sunk flat is reached by half-a-dozen of steps from the pavement. In July last part of my family was residing at Dunoon. I was generally out of town at Dunoon from the Friday to the Sundayvafternoon. I was in town on Friday, the 4th of July. I left my house at Sandyford- place on that Friday morning about 10 o'clock, and went to my counting-house in St. Vincent-place. I attended business during the day, and left town during the afternoon without going to my house at Sandyford-place. I left my father, James Fleming, and the servant at Sandyford-place in the morning. The servant's name whom I left in the bouse was Jessie M'Pherson, deceased. My son John remained at Dunoon with me till the Monday morning. He left Dunoon by an earlier train than me. I re- turned from Dunoon by the 10 o'clock train from Rothes.ny on Monday, 7th of July. I reached Sandyford-place about half- past 4. I rung the bell of my house, and I think my son opened the door, and went in before me. When I got in, the old man was standing by at the head of the lobby, nigh to the dock. My son had passed on from the door, and was standing near to him. My son said to me, "There's no use sending anything in for dinner here to-day, as the servant has run off, and there's nobody to cook it." Alluding to the old man, my son said, He says he has not seen her since Friday night; and he added, He said her room door's locked." I said, That is a curious story." I was quite surprised, as the woman was ( such steady habits, and he added, She may be lying dead in her room for a' that he knows," knowing his absent habits. I put down my hat on the table at the head of the stairs. I said to them both, "Come away down stairs with me." We went accordingly. I went down first, followed by the other two. I went into the kitchen, followed by them, and saw that the fire was half out, observing nothing to attract attention; indeed I ■did not look minutely; it did not strike me to look. From that I went to th-a servant's bed-room door, which was on the same sflloor as the kitchen, and found the door locked, and no key in it. It struck me that there might be a key in the pantry-door that would fit her bed-room door. 1 got a key in the pantry-door, -and I applied it to the bed-room, and turned the lock at once. When I opened the room door the room was in a half- dark- ened state; the window blinds were down, and one half of the shutters were shut. The room, as far as I could see appeared in a state of confusion. The servant's bed stood at the back of the door, projecting about a foot or a foot and a half from -the wall. The bed stood with its back along the wall, with its ■foot towards the back of the door, and its head towards the window. The back of the bed was close to the wall. I passed 4m to the foot of the bed, and there discovered the servant's body lying with the feet towards the window, and the head towards the opposite side of the room, inclining towards the door in a slanting direction. The body was naked from the small of the back downwards. The upper part of the body, including the head, was covered with some dark clothing. I exclaimed, "Good laod, here's she lying here! or words to that oflect. My father and son were standing at my back, and they reiterated similar words of surprise, and said, This is dreadful," or something to that effect. I did not touch the body, or remove the clothing in any way. I said, Come away with me up stairs till I go out and call some of my neighbours and the police to see this." I passed on to Mr. Train, the butcher's shop. I asked him to run to the police office or to find a policeman, as my servant was lying dead on the floor. He did so, and I went towards North- street, and called at Dr. William Watson's, and told him what thad happened, and asked him to come to the house to see the body. He went with me, and I took him down stairs to where the body was. He put his finger upon the hip and said, Quite cold; dead for some time." He asked me if I had sent for the police and the police surgeon. The police came soon after. When I re- turned with Dr. Watson I noticed the state of the room. There was a basin-stand on the left hand of the door, and a white 'basin in it. There was something in the white basin resembling the spittings of blood. I did not notice any other marks of blood in the room at that time. Jessie M'Pherson was in her usual -state of health when I left the house on Friday morning. She served breakfast. Cross-examined Did you make a search to see if any of your property was missing?—I think I did, on the Monday morning. Did you miss anything?—I examined the sideboard and I missed six silver table spoons, a toddy ladle, a Silver fish knife, a silver soup divider, two silver tea spoons, plated sauce spoons, six plated forks, and several other articles. AU th«se articles were taken from my house. They were in my M'Pherson in the house during the summer season. Ihave seen the prisoner since she ceased to be my servant, not often. John Fleming, jun., son of the preceding witness, gave similar evidence. James Fleming, residing with John Fleming, accountant, ex- I, amined by Mr. Gitford: —How old are you, Mr. Fleming?—Iam ( 87, the 9th August last. What is your employment?—I am em- t ployed in my son's office; generally useful, hanging on and going r about. I take charge of house property for my son. I take ( charge of the letting of the property, hiring mechanics for work, and so on. I live in my son's house, in Sandyford-place. I s have lived with him for two or three years-all the time he has been stopping there. I have stopped with my son ever since he had a house at Sandyford-place. Do you remember Friday, the 4th July last?—Yes. Tell us where you went on that Friday.— I came home to my dinner at the usual time, about 4 o'clock. I took my dinner, and after my dinner I had a custom of going up to the West-end Park to take a walk. I went up, and after feck o' a couple of hours I came back again. I was ( fashed with cold feet, and there was no fire in any of the t rooms. I went to the kitchen fire to get my feet warmed. j I went down to the kitchen and Jessie M'Pherson made i my tea. It would be well on for eight o'clock. She made me tea, an1 she poored it oot, an' took a cup alang wi' me.. Efter I got the tea by, I yoked to read. I had always the papers ■i' my pouch, an' I was i' the habit o' reading them. Then I I stopped till about half-past nine o'clock. I then went to my bed ( up the stair, and I left Jessie M'Pherson workin' awa' in the kitchen, ye ken; an' early i' the mornin' I was waukened by a lood squeel. That was on the flat above the kitchen. Efter j that followed ither twa squeels—no sae lood as the ither; but it ■was a verra odd kind o'squeel I heard. I jumped oot o'the bed, and heard no more. All was by i' the ooorse o' a minute's time. 'It wasna past a minute till a' was quiet. I heard nothing an' saw nothing. I took oot my watch. I was i' the habit o' keepin' it always under my pillow. It wis exactly aboot four o'clock, an' a verra clear mornin'. Weel, I gaed awa' to my bed efter a' was quiet. I thocht Jessie had got somebody in to stay with her. There was a body she ca'd a sister, an' I thocht she micht be stoppin' with her, or else some ither body. So when I heard a' was quiet, and nae noise, I gaed to my bed again, an' wisna lang in till I fell asleep again, an' I lay till aboot sax o'clock i' the mornin'. She used always to come up wi' a little parritch an' milk to me r the mornin' aboot aught o'clock. She ilidna come that mornin'. I was surprised that she didna come as usual, and I lay still till nine, o'clock. Then I raise and put on my claes. I forget whether I wush mysel' or no, but I went doon the stair exactly after that. I went to her door, and I gave three loud chaps like this (here witness rapped thrice -smartly on the witness-box), an' nae answer; an' I tried the aaeck of the door—the lateh-an' the door was locked. But I'll tell you first of all about the main door being not lockit, It was lwt lockit; the key was in the inside. The-door was on the latch; just snibbed, ye ken, not locket. They had gone oot by that door, there is nae doot o't. I didna go oot after twa o'clock that nicht, and I made myself some dinner and got shot by; and about seven o'clock at night the bell was rung, and a young lad cam to the door, He said he was frae,Falkirk. I axed his name, and he said it was Darnley. He said he had promised to call uron Jess when he cam to toon. I said she wasn't in, so he went away. This was juist about seven o'clock on Saturday nicht. I looked for Jess, aye thinking she wad mak' her appearance. I thocht if she had went away wi' ony friends or acquaintances she wad mak' her appearance. Ilooever, she never did. I sat up till efter nine o'clock, and then -I gaed awa' tae my bed—made ready for bed. On Sabbath morning I made my breakfast again—a cup o' tea, and I biled a herring till't, and that was my breakfast, and then made ready for the church. I went to the church in the fore- noon Mr. Ark man's clrarchin And erst on. The church skail't, and I cam' strauclit home. I stayed till the afternoon kirk was going in. I took a bit bread and cheese, and gaed awa' tae the kirk again—came home, and I didna gang oot that nicht; and the lau Darnley, that had ca d on the Saturday nicht, ca'd again when the kirk skail't, after I came home, and asked if Jessie M'Pherson was in. I said, "No." Says he, "Is she at the church ?' I said, I did not know." He says, "It she comes oot to the toon will she come this way?" an' I said, "I suppose so." That was comin' oot o' the toon, ye ken. And so he went away, and I had no more calls that night, I think, that I recollect of. I stopped up till about half-past nine, and I gaed awa' to my bed. On Monday morning I had always to rise a little sooner. I kent that Mr. Fleming wad behame; that he wad come up the water in the morning, and that he wad be oot till dinner. So aboutlfour o'clock, or aiblins .after, young John cam in, and his father followed him, and I tell'd him what had .ta'en place—that I. had not seen Jessie M'Pherson since Friday nicht. At this stage of the examination the witness's son and grand- son, who were in court, were desired to leave the court. Mr. Gifford Look at that person, the prisoner. Do you know her.?—Yes. When did you first know her?—When she was ser- vant with John I knew the woman. How long is that ?-I canna mind pointedly when. It was when that ither girl cam back, ye ken. Is it some years ago ?—Ay; it will be three years ago, I'se warrant, but my memofy's not so good. Cross-examined by Mr.. dark Mr. Fleming, was your watch right on the Saturday morning?_Yes. You know that?—Yes, it was very reg'lar. Therefore you are sure about the hour you have given us?—Yes, exactly four o'clock-a fine clear morning. And you are quite sure that you lay in bed till nine o'clock ?— Yes. You were not out of your bed-room or dressed till nine o'clock,, or thereby? —I didna leave my bed till nine o'clock. Did the milkman come to the door on Saturday morning ?-I am sure I cannot charge my memory particularly about the.milkman oa that morning. Could the milk have got in without you opening the door?—There was no milfe brought in. Did you refuse to take in the mUk that morning, Mr. Fleming ?—Yes. Now, Mr. Fleming, do not let us mistake about this matter. Did you say to the milk-boy that you did not require any milk on Saturday?-Yes, I think I did. Now, what time of day did you say that?—The boy, ye see, would ring the bell, of course, and I would just say, "I do not need any milk." What. time of the Saturday morning was it that the milk-boy came?—Betwixt eight and nine o'clock. Were you dressed at the time the milkboy came ?—Yes; there is no doubt but I would be dressed. Now, Mr. Fleming, when did you getup on Saturday morning? -I got up about nine o'clock. If the milkboy came between eight and nine, how could you be dressed if you did not get up till nine ?—I canna charge my mcmory; I might not be dressed. You said you had been in bed till nine, and then got up and dressed yourself. Is that true ?—Yes. Why did you not let Jessie open the door for the milkboy when -he came?—Jessie! Ye ken it was a' over wi' Jessie before that (sensation). Mr. Clark (after a pause).-I do not doubt that Mr. Fleming. Why did you not let Jessie open the door for the milkboy on Saturday morning when he came ?—There was no Jessie to open the door on the Saturday morning. Why did you open the door when the milk-boy came, in place of allowing Jessie to open it ?-I was just sayin to him-the chain was on -we did not require any milk. She was dead before that (sensation). Mr. Clark: My lord, there is one matter in this answer which I think is very important. He says the chain was on. Mr. Fleming, I must have an answer to this question: Why did you go to the door and open it when the milkman came, and why did you not allow Jessie to open the door?—On Saturday morning Jessie was deed; she could na open the door when she was deed. Did you know that Jessie was dead when the milkman came to the door ?—I did not. If you did not know that Jessie was dead, why did you go to the door?-You know I was up, and when the door was not answered, I would just gang to say we did not re- quire any. Did you allow Jessie a chance of opening the door before you went to open it? Lord Deas: You had much better put it this way-Did you wait some time before answering the door when the milkman came ?—I did. You know I had gone through the house all be- fore, and there was nobedy in the house to give me an answer. How long before the milkman came had you been through the house ?-Through the house? I puppose it would be nigh about the time.I went to chap three times at the door and got no answer. This was after nine o'clock. Are you quite sure that this was about nine o'clock ?-Yes, I am quite sure; the milkman whiles does not keep the appointed time. Did you go down be- fore you were dressed?—Yes, it is likely I would. I have told you everything from my heart about Saturday morning, but you must remember that a man who is 78 years of age has not so fresh a memory as a younger man. A Juryman here directed his lordship's attention to the fact that whereas Mr. Fleming's age had been given in at 87, he had just stated that he was 7; years old. Mr. Clark: How old are you, Mr. Fleming ?—I was born on the 9th August, 1775, and was 87 my last birthday. On Satur- day morning were you down in the kitchen before you put on your clothes? When you chapped at Jessie's door had you all your clothes on ?-I could not say that I was completely dressed. When she did not answer me I tried the lock of the door. The door was lockit and the key away; what more could I do? It never occurred to me trouble or murder, or anything of that kind. I saw no marks nor anything in the house. In the course of the night you had heard squealing, indicating that some person was in great distress, and you did not see your servant in the morning. Can you tell me why you did not, in these circum- stances give information to the police ?-I did not think upon anything of the kind; I looked for her always coming back, and thocht that if there had been anything-dïink or anything gaun-that though she might have oeen enticed out wi' freends yet she would be back, and I never thocht o' callin' in the police. Her going away was a very unexpected thing to you, was it not?—Yes. When she didn't come on Saturday why didn't you send for the police?—I didna think o' sending for them. When she didn't come back on Sunday, why did you not send for the police?—I didna think of it. Was there anything in the kitchen that attracted your atten- tion in the course of Saturday ?—Nothing particular. Nor on the Sunday. Nor on the Monday ?—Nor on the Monday. You were. a good deal in the kitchen during those days?-It was gey often rainin' about that time, and I went doon to get my feet warmed. You put on the fire ?-On Saturday mornin' the fire was in, and I put on some coals. You kept the fire in ? Yes; I put on a gatherin' coal at nicht. Did you see no blood in the kitchen ?- No. Did you see blood on your shirts that were in the kitchen? -When I was laying them by there were two of them that were marked. Did you'not think it queer to see blood on your shirt ?-I never thocht upon murder or ony trouble of the kind. It never struck me that there was onythiug wrong. How did you account for the blood being on your shirt?—I mentioned to the Fiscal and them that examined me that I saw one or two of the shirts marked with iron ore, or something like that. Did you not think at the time that it might be blood ?—I thought that it might be blood. (Shown and iden- tified two shirts with blood upon them.) When did you notice it ?—When I was laying them past. When was it?—On Satur- day night. When you saw that blcod upon the shirts, how did yeu account for its being there?—Why, I can't say. Did you not think that something was wrong?—No, I did not it never entered into my head. When you heard the squeals as of great distress, and could not see Jessie for a day, and found that her door was locked, and that blood was upon yocr shirts, how did it come about that you never thought that any- thing was wrong? No; I never thocht of it. Though you heard squeals as of persons in great distress; missed Jessie for a whole day found her door locked, and found blood on the shirts in the kitchen she had been washing and ironing, it never occurred to you that anything was wrong ?—Ic was by in a minute, you see, the squeal It never entered into my head that there was murder or distress. I never thocht of it. Alexander M'Call, Assistant Superintendent of Police, Glasgow^ I wentJto Mr. Flemitig's house, at Saiidylord-place, saw the dead body ot a woman thorn I took an inspector "v ith me to make a searching investigation. I noticed stains of biood upon the flooring of the house where the body was lying, beside basin-stand, and also on the door of a press. I traced a trail t yt marks from the bed-room to the kitchen. The trail was con- c tinued inside of the door of the kitchen. There were bloody t narks on thejaw-box in the kitchen, and also some at the back 1 sf the inside of the kitchen door. The marks could be seen best c when the door was shut, and when the door was open with its hack to a dresser that stood behind it, they would not be I seen. There was a chest in the room, which I opened. There t were some articles of clothing in it, also a small bandbox with {• blood on it, as if it had eon handled by a bloody hand. This ( examination was made at night by gas and candle light, and I ( went back next morning, and I observed the floor more par- i ticnlarly. I observed some footmarks of the left foot upon the I door opposite to the bed near the fireplace. They seemed to be t imprints of footsteps in blood. I afterwards saw that part of ] the flooring cut out. It was cut out in my presence (shown por- i tion of floor). There are two impressions upon this piece of i flooting. I think the marks are very much the same now as t when I first saw them on the flooring. Both the marks are i those of the .left foot. When I first saw the marks I thought 1 they were prints of a naked foot, and I still think so. My I impression was then, and is still, that the marks were those < of a person having a high instep. I received information regarding some plate that had been pledged, and in c)nsequence t of that I went on Sunday afternoon, the 13th of July, to the pri- soner's house. I found her in her house with a child, who might 1 be about three years of age. I told her that I was making in- quiries into the murder of Jessie M'Pherson. She did not make < any reply. Donald Campbell, criminal officer in the western district of the Glasgow police, deposed: I went to Mr. Fleming's house in Sandyford-place, about half-past five o'clock on Monday, 7th July. I found Mr. Fleming and Dr. Watson there, i took possession of some clothing that was upon the body (identified i the clothes). I also took possession of a bloody sheet now shown me. This was found beneath a basin stand, near the door of the room where the body was found. I also took possession of certain articles ot clothing attached to label No. 3. These were found lying on the floor of the room. In the drawer of the kitchen dresser I found a cleaver. The rust was fresh upon it, and there was an appearance about the handle like blood. I saw bloody marks about the roomand other places, and bloody footprints on theflooring. I examined the feet of the dead body to see if they could have made the footprints. I measured 1 the length and breadth of the footprints, and then applied the measurement to the feet of the dead body. The result was that: the feet of the deceased were rather longer than the footprints 1 on the floor Christiana Fraser, wife of John Fraser, seaman, Grace-street Finnieston, Glasgow I have known the prisoner from the time she was a little girl. I had occasion to be on the south of the Clyde on Friday the 4th of July, about half-past nine. I came across at nine to see the prisoner. I went to her house in Broomielaw-street. I found the prisoner dressing to go out. She had on a cloak and seemed to be putting on her bonnet I asked her if she was meaning to leave the child alone, but she said she was going to see a delicate child. Mr. Gifford: Where was the prisoner's child at this time ? Lotdlteas: In the bed-room?—Witness: Yes. • i Mr. Gifford: Did you go out with her?—Yes.. Where did. you go?—We went along Broomielaw and Washington-street, and up Washington-street, to the corner of Stobcross-street. Where did you part with her ?-At the corner of Stobcross-Street. In what direction did she go?—She crossed the street towards the Gushet House. Wrat is the Gushet House ?—It is the corner house betwixt Stobcross-street, which leads one way, and Main- street, which leads the other. What o'clock would it be when you parted ?-It might be about 10 o'clock, or five or ten minutes p:sstit. Cross-examined by Mr. Clark: You say you have known the prisoner intimately since she was a child?—Yes. What kind 01 dispositioned person was she to your knowledge?—She seemed to me to be. always a very respectable person. Since her mar- riage and the birth of her child she has been ailing a good deal? -Yes. Margaret M'Kenzie or Campbell, wife of Donald Campbell, seaman, Clydesdale-buildings, Broomielaw-street, Glasgow: I live in Broomielaw-street. The room at the end of the lobby is occupied by Mrs. M'Lachlan. There, is no other room on the opposite side of the passages. Mrs. M'Lachlan's husband lived with her. He is a seafaring man, and is often from home. I remember Friday, July 4 last. Did you hear footsteps in the lobby that night?—I heard footsteps going out. I did not wake until it was half-past five o'clock. Mrs. M'Lachlan's little boy was crying. I went, into Mrs. M'Lachlan's room, and took him out of the bed and dressed him. Mrs M'Lachlan was not there; there was nobody there but the ehild. I dressed the child and put him into the kitchen. I did not go to bed again. I gave the child a piece and he fell asleep, and I put him into his mother's bed again. The milk girl came to the door between eight and nine. Mrs. M'Lachlan came after that, about nine o'clock on the Saturday morning. The Court here adjourned. Second Day. The court resumed on Thursday morning at a quarter pa3t, ten o'clock—Lord Deas presiding—and proceeded with the evidence in this case. The court was again filled to overflowing, and, as on the previous day, a large crowd assembled outside in front of the court-houses. The first witness called was, Mary Black, or Adams, Holm-street, Glasgow, who, being examined- by Mr. Gifford, deponed—I know the prisoner, and have done so for about three years. I have been in the habit of washing clothes for her during that time. She employed me sometimes to go to different pawnbrokers for her to pledge goods and to take them up. I always gave the name of Fraser, -5, Main-street. That was not her own name or her own residence. She told me to give that name. I was in the prisoner's house on Thursday, 3rd July last, washing for Mrs. Campbell, the person who lived 111 the same house with the prisoner. I was there also on part of Friday, 4th July, finishing up the washing for Mrs. Camp- bell. The prisoner sent me to the pawnbroker with a dressing-glass -to Clarke's, in Brown-street-on the forenoon of Friday. She told me to get 6s. upon the dressing.glass. I was to lift a cloak out of pawn with the money I got for the glass. I went and got 6s. upon the looking-glass and took up the cloak, and paid 4s. 7jd. for it. I brought the cloak to the prisoner. (Shown a cloak labelled No. 33, and identified it as the one lifted out of pawn) She said when she got the cloak that she wanted to go from home. I saw her again about five o'clock in the afternoon. She asked me to come back between nine and ten to keep her little boy, if I was not engaged. She said she was going to see Jessie. I always understood by that name Jessie M'Pherson. I asked her why she went so late. She said then that it was the time that she was got alone, as the old man went to bed about that time. llmew that she meant old Mr. Fleming, at Sandyford-place. She wanted me to call at a sin tll's to get a check-key sorted for her front door. She said she didna like to trouble Mrs. Campbell always opening the door. I forgot to go to the smith's. I think that was all that passed that night. She said, Old Fleming was fashious about any person going into the house, especially any one that was an old servant." I did not go back that night, because I did not feel well. The next afternoon, in consequence of something that my landlady, Mrs. Rainy, told me, 1 went to the prisoner's house at neat four o'clock. I found her in her own house. No person was with her but her child. She had on a dark dress. (Snown and identified the dress No. 27.) I said, I understand you was up for me; and sha replied, "Yes; and you couldna be got when I was wanting ye." She then said, "I want you to go a message now." She said it was to Clark's pawnshop. She gave me thiee tickets and X2. She never said what I was to get, but I knew the articles. I went to Clark's and I redeemed a silver watch belonging to her husband, her husband's dress-coat, two shirts of her husband's, and a ring of her own. Tne things cost about X 1 1, s. tid. altogether, so far as I can recollect. I was a littie surprised at the prisoner having the money, and said, Who did she rob for it?" as a joke. She said it was the money that her husband left for tne tailor. I washed for her on the Monday afternoon. I went also to the same pawnbroker's- Clark's. She gave me 16s. I redeemed a pair of trousers, vest, andjacket-ditferent bundles-ail belonging to her nusband. I brought the articles and the change to the prisoner. (Shown a small parcel of crinoline wire.) I got these from the prisoner on Saturday, the 5th July, between five and six o'clock, when I left her last. It was in her own house. She said that the little boy had pushed them in the fire. I was to make them down for a crinoline to my little girl Sarah. These wires I afterwards gave up to the police, and left them with the police. I had occasion, from washing for the prisoner, to know about her clothes. She had a brown merino gown with a flounced skirt. She had not a merino gown with a plain skirt that ever I saw. (Shown merino gown.) I never saw that till I saw it in the County Buildings. (Shown a velvet cloak and a cloth cloak.) I canna bay nothing about these. I never saw them in the prisoner's possession. I cannot say whether I have seen Jessie M'Pherson have them on or not. (Shown a ehal ging coloured or brown and a black watered silk Iress.) I never saw the prisoner with those articles. I never sawanybody else wear- ing them to my knowledge. I never saw Jessie M'Pherson wearing them; but I have been informed- Mr. Clark (tor the prisoner): Stop! stop! stop! Witness: I think 1 have seen Jessie M'l'lierson once or twice wearing a dress like the brown watered silk dress. (Shown a tplaid.) I never saw the prisoner with that; I have seen Jessie M'Pherson wearing it. (Shown thirteen pieces of woollen or flaunel cloth in a bundle.) I recognise these. They are a petti- coat of the prisoner's. I have washed that petticoat for her- not very often, but sometimes. Here the witness seemed to be deeply affected. Lord Deas I don't wonder that you are affected, Mrs. Adams, at having to answer such questions, but take time and compose yourself. It is necessary that you should state all that yon know regarding the matter. Examination continued: It was made out of a half blanket. I knew it at the time it was a washing. )Shown six pieces of winsey.) I never washed a petticoat made out of that cloth, I think, but I have seen the prisoner wearing it constantly. tShown twenty pieces of coburg cloth). I recognise these as part of a dress of the prisoner's. They are all torn in pieces now. I see parts of ilte flounces and the trimming of the dress. I last saw the prisoner with the gown on, of which these are the pieces, on Friday, the 4th ot July. (Shown a sleeve of a coburg dress). I found that sleeve in the house of the prisoner soon after she was apprehended. I think it was the following Thurs- day. There were police officers there at the time. The prisoner said to me one day she would have to get money somewhere. I don't remember exactly the day she salt: that. She said she was needing money. That was, I think, a day or two before Friday, the 4th July. SaraAl Adams, daughter of the preceding witness, deponed: I have known the prisoner between two and three years. I went to be a servant with her when she was living in Elliot-street I remained with her there until five weeks belore she was appre- hended. Her husband is a sailoi, and often away from home I knew the, late Jessie M'Pherson. I remember being in the pri- soner's house on the Saturday before prisoner was apprehended She was writing a letter, and she asked me to go to the station of the HamiltOlllhilway. She then went down to the cellar, and took a little hammer with her, and an address which was the thing that she had been writing. When she had got the ad- dress on, she calledme in, and asked me if I could carry abox, and said she feared it was too heavy for me (identifies the box). She told me I was to go across the Broomielaw Bridge, and told me to get the box weighed at the Hamilton, station. When I re- 'h,. .ne not to tell any pcrson I was at the railway with the box. to tell R,l,y prisoner's and went to my mother s. The lirst time I saw her after the Saturday was on the Tuesday after the murder was committed. I saw a honnet and black shawl on the table. (Bonnet produced and identified as the bonnet she saw.) I saw her again on the Saturday, the day before she was taken up. I was sent on a message to Jessie M'Pherson about three or four months before 1 left prisoner's, with a pair of crinolines, and I was sent another time three days after that message for the loan of £2, which I got from Jessie M-Pherson for Mrs. M'Lachlan. (Shown pices of woollen cloth.) These were once a petticoat, and she had cane in it, for crinoline, to make it wide. When the cane was in it it was a petticoat, and belonged to the prisoner. I have seen her wearing such like as this. I know it to be her petticoat by the stitching, which is my own stitching. Shown a petticoat.) Have seen prisoner wearing a petticoat like this. (Shown merino gown.) I know this to be the prisoner's by the trim- mings. There is the piece of a flouijta attached to this, and the prisoner's dress was a flounced merino. The dress was a wrapper which I knew, it being made to open by the front. I have seen the prisoner wearing the wrappe: of which these are pieces. The witness identified a sleeve of ihesame dress, a I)etti. coat of flannel, which she had seen prisonor'ssister Ann wearing, and crinoline wires, which she saw on the Saturday after she took the box to the Hamilton station. Other evidence, identifying the articled stown to the above witnesses, was then given. Margaret Gibson, a little girl who lived at Lowater, said that on the 8 th or 9th of July the prisoner aslied ler if she could tell her where she could get a drink of water. Printed out to her the Tommylinn Burn in Toinmyliiin-park, Thoight sra had a bun- dle under her arm. I was in the Tommylinn-park on the Sunday following, continued the witness. I say n(thirg in thA park that day, nor found anything. There is a hedge which runs alongside the park. I found some flanntl cldhing in the hedge. Some clothing was thrust in at the rcot of the hedge, on the side next the Tommylinn-park. I pulledout the fennel, which I saw was all blood. I ran away home frightened. I was there next day and saw the clothes lying again. I told Marion Fairlie that I had seen the clothes in the hedge. By the Court: No one was with me wfon I first saw the clothes. Marion Fairlie was with me on the londay. By the Advocate-Deputy I saw tie tiamul clothes again on the Monday, when Marion Fairlie wis with me. They were lyingjust as I had left them. We let them here. I was there again with Daniel Stewart, policeman I sawhim take them. It was a good while after. I did not tafe him trthe place. I don't know who took him there. James (ir.ipbelhve.it with, me when I saw Daniel Stewart lift and take away the clothes, which I had seen before. (Snown piece of flanvel.) These are the clothes I found. I saw tncll in them which I now see. After the Monday that I and -larion Fairlie were in the park we found some winsey clothingat another part of the road. It was at the opposite side of the rad. Tte winsey was lying on the road, near the root of the edge. (Identifies pieces of winsey.) I just left it. I lifted it nd locked at it. I saw, the same day, in T«uipleton-park, npprite fioiti Tommylinn-park, some coburg. Marion Fairlie was ith lllt. There were a great many pieces. (Identifies tl e pieces<f coburg cloth.) Templeton- park is not much farther from our louse taaa Tommylinn-park. I saw Daniel Stewart take away thcoburg Marion Fairlie, another little girland Sbwart, the policeman, corroborated this evidence. Andrew Cooper and David Dewa other yolice-officers, deposed to searching the fields and findingther ancles of clothing. Elizubeth M'Crome proved that woman (she could not tay it was the prisoner) brought the Ifirich ma-uio (!ress produced, and sked her to have it dyed Itck, It was crimson brown Told her it would be a pity to d; it; bul she said she would have it done. She gave the nam f Jr Donald Elizabeth Eainey spoke to seig the ti-isoner in a brown French merino dress. She said e would put on another and take that to be dyed. Told her it is a pity to have it dyed; but she said she would rather have itack. Sle changed her dress ] in witness's house. ( Robert Lundie, assistant to an Lundfe, pawnbroker, East < Clyde-street, Glasgow: I and r father hid a pawn shop on the 5th of July last. The prisi!r came to my house between twelve and one o'clock on Saturn the 5th July. She went into i one of the boxes. I -went to ive her. She said she wanted £1; 10s..upon the. silver plate vch she gave me. (Shown six t silver tablespoons, six platedis.sert spoons, six silver toddy c ladles, a silver fish slice, a sir soup divider, two silver tea- t spoons, a plated sauce spoon,'e plated forks.) The prisoner 2 gave all them. (Shown ciOI They were wrapped in that cloth. I looked at the goods,d said I could give £ 6 ]5s. She 1 said that t ey were for henistress to make up the rent. c James Lynn was there, andheard him ask her name. She j answered Mary M'Donald, 15, St. Vincent-street. I g3:ve her é all advance of X6 15s. uponem. I kept tha articles. They é were enier. d in my books ofat day. I left town on the same t day, and returned oil Tuesdeveniug, by which time there been accounts in the newsers of a mrd r aud of missing rj plate. That induced me tiiok at the plate, and I took them all immediately to the poliand delivered them to them, and „ saw them labelled. The lett' F" is on them. There was nobody with the prisoner when shene to pledge the plate. c William Smith Dunlop: James Fillet-ton, jun., assistants to an ironmonger in Glasg proved the purchase of a tin box: h and other witnesses were mined to prove its transmission by railway. ( Elizabeth M'Lachlan oeid: I reside in Dumfrocher-road, s Greenock. A box was bjht. to my house on the 11th of July g last. (Shown a box.) Isembled that very much. It was of the same size, sh-\pe, anlour. Tiiere was no address on the a box. It was left witls about ten minutes i in the v afternoon of Friday, the 11th of July. I knew the person who brought the box very well. Interrogated: Who brought the box?—My brother, James M'Lachlan. He is the husband of the prisoner. (Here the wit- ness was very much affected.) Did you see the box opened? —No. I saw nothing taken out of it. I saw certain dresses that had been taken out of it on the Saturday morning, 12th July. The box came on the 11th. (Shown velvet cloak and a cloth cloak, a black watered silk dress, a brown shot silk dress, and a black plaid.) I saw all these articles in my house on the morning of Saturday, 12th July. They were lying on my bed. I put them into a drawer. I had not put them on the bed. They remained in the drawer till Wednesday morning. Did you see anything of them on Wednesday?—I saw them put into the box. I saw the address written and put on the box after they were in. The address was, "Mr. Thomson, County-buildings, Glasgow, to lie till called for." The box was taken away from my house, and I never saw it again. A porfa-r called for it, named Lawrie. Margaret M'Innes or M'Lachlan, residing in the Island of Mull: I was a servant of Mr. John Fleming, No 17, Sandyford- place. I was his servant since the spring of the present year up to the 1st May. I was. with him for four months preceding that date. Jessie M'Pherson was a servant at Mr. Fleming's when I was there, and we were the only two servants kept at the house at Sandyford-place. I had occasion to see Jessie M'Pherson's dresses. Shown velvet and cloth cloaks, black silk dress, a brown silk dress, and a silk jacket or polka.) These are Jessie M'Pherson's dresses. (Shown a black plaid.) That is Jessie's plaid. (Shown black merino gown.) That is a dress of Jessie's too. It is a different colour now. When it was in Jessie M'Pherson's possession it was cinnamon brown. I recognise it by the trimming, although the colour is different. It has been dyed. At the time I left Fleming's service on 1st May Jessie had all these dresses. (Shown cleaver.) That was in John Fleming's house when I left. It was in his kitchen. I do not know Mrs. M'Lachlan, the prisoner. I have heard Jessie speak of her. She spoke as if she had a respect for her. She always spoke in a friet.dly way of her. Mary Downie, servant with Ronald Johnston, mining engineer, Glasgow: I knew the late Jessie M'Pherson many a year-nine years past last month. I have been in service with her. Her and I carried on business together for a twelvemonth in Grace- street, Finnieston. We were grocers and victuallers. We gave up business two years past last April. I often saw her after that. I met her at church. We sat in the same church. I know the dresses that she had. (Shown a velvet cloak.) She bought that cloak when she was in Mr, Fleming's the first time, and the other cloak when her and I were in service together in Arnot's, in Jamaica-street, Glasgow, about six years ago. (This witness also identified the dresses.) Margaret Fleming (residing with John Fleming): I am a sister of Mr. Fleming, the accountant. In July last I was living at Dunoon, at vir. Fleming's cottage there. I went down in the end of May. Jessie M'Pherson was left in charge of the Sandy- ford-place house. There was no other servant there. There is a room off the kitchen, with two chests of drawers in it. They were used, one pair by old Mr. Fleming, and the other by my- self. I had occasion to see Jessie M'Pherson's dresses. Cross-examined by Mr. Clark: Where is the room in which the old man slept?—It was a room above the kitchen on the dining-floor. The court adjourned at a quarter to nine o'clock. Third Day. On Friday morning the prisoner entered the dock with the same composure as on the previous days, showing no sign of uneasiness, except that her face was very pale, and that an occa- sional twitching of her mouth might be observed. The evidence was chiefly exculpatory of old Mr. Fleming. Dr. McLeod gave evidence to the effect that some bloody imprints on the floor of the woman's bedroom were not made by the deceased, nor old Fleming, but might have been by the foot of the prisoner, which had been examined. It was also proved that the prisoner had been requiring money immediately prior to the time of the murder, and that she was then in debt, but that she paid the day after the murder several debts, such as would account for the money she had got for the silver plate. This concluded the case for the prosecution. Mr. Clark then objected to the three declarations made by the prisoner being put. in and read, on the ground tliat the prisoner's husband had been examined before her declaration was taken, and at a time when the sheriff and fiscal had no reason for believing that he was not innocent. Lord Deas overruled the3e objections, and allowed the declara- tion to be put in and read. The declarations were accordingly read. The first was the most important, and after entering into particulars, with which the public are already familiar-as her name, age, occupation before marriage, and the name of her husband-stated that she last saw the deceased in her (M'Lachlan's) house in Broomlielaw, on the 28th June last. She was not in or near Mr. Fleming's house, in Sandyford-place, on Friday, the 4ih, or morning of Saturday the 5th July, and was not in any way concerned with the murder or theft. She was in her own house the whole day, till about seven at night, and after going out twice returned finally about a quarter past eleven p.m., letting herself in by a check lock. She went to bed, and rose about eigit next morning, her little sou sleeping with her. She admitted having the plate, but said she got it from Mr. Fleming, who had asked her to pawn it for him, but had told her not to let anybody know. As to the articles of clothing, she denied that most of them were ever in her possession. Some evidence was next given for the prisoner. A mi;kboy said that on Saturday morning he called at the hous3 at twenty minutes to eight. The door was answered by old Mr. Fleming, who said" he wasua for nae mulk." Mary Fullarton or Smith, Richard-street: I knew Jessie M'Pherson for between four and five years. I knew her per- fectly well. I have seen the prisoner Willi Jessie Id' riiei son In Grav-street, where she had a. shop. I have heard her speak of the prisoner many a time. She spoke of her very kindly, and in a fripndlv mannpr r last saw Jessie M'Pherson on the 2Sth Jruilc in waiiciiichctiE otrect. i oPoito hsr on tne street. I had not seen her for two years and two months before. When walking along the road she came forward to me, and I expressed my astonishment at seeing her, and asked her where she had been. She said, "You know it isa good while since shecamefrom London." I said. Why did you not come to see me? You are looking ill. How are you in Fleming's family? She said, "I don't teel very happy or comfortable, for Fleming is just an old wretch and an old devil." Did she say that seriously?— Yes; and I was astonished at it, because she had formerly been very comfortable there. Did she answer you?—She said that she was very unhappy and very uncomfortable. She said that she would come down that day fortnight and get her tea with us, as she had something to tell me, which she said she could not tell me as Sandy (the witness's husband) was walking with me. What did you understand the something to refer to ? —I could not say. Did she tell you what it was ?—She never was in life to tell. me. When she said that she would come down and tell you was it in answer to the question, What was the cause of the disagreement? Lord Deas: No, no; she did not ask "What is the cause of the disagreement ? Witness: I said to her, "You are looking ill; and she said "I cannot tell you what is the cause, because Sandy is with you." Lord Deas: You thought she did not like to speak to you before him?—Yes; that was what I understood. You said you had seen Jessie M'Pherson and the prisoner together?—Yes; many a time. On these occasions did they seem kind and a.n-ectionate?—Very much so. You knew they were great friends?—Yes. Lord Deas: Did you ever understand Jessie M'Pherson to sav that she was thinking of going abroad?—No, sir; she never said so to me. Mary M'Pherson examined by Mr. M'Leod: I am a foster sister of the late Jessie M-Pherson. I know the prisoner Mrs. M'Lachlan, and have seen her with Jessie. They were both friends and very affectionate. When did you last see Jessie M'Pherson?—About a month before the murder. Did she say anything to you on that occasion about old Mr. Fleming?—On the day I called upon her she opened the door, and I said to her, "Its very strange, Jessie, that you never come to see me now," to which she replied that it was very easy for me to speak, that she had got very much to do in the house with some servant going away that her heart was broken by the old man. He was so inquisitive that the door bell never could ring but he had to know what it was. ° Martha M'Intyre: I was in the service of Mr. John Fleming, and went on the 11th November last. and left on 5th January last. I saw a good deal of old. Mr. Fleming. He was very in- quisitive, by inquiring who was in the house, and when the ser- vants went out, he made inquiries after them, where they had been, and what they did, and why they were out. Jessie M'Pherson was living in the house at the time. He was special in his inquiries about her if she was out. Lord Deas: What do you call special. Mr. M'Lean Was he more particular in his inquiries about Jessie than the othtis?—He always inquired about her. I have known him to get out of bed to see who was at the door if the bell rang. It was in the morning. Jessie M'Pherson was a wirv woman. Robert Jeffrey, criminal officer: I was engaged in searching Mr. Fleming's house ir. Sandford-place, on the 7th, 8th, 9th 10th and 11th July hist. In old Mr. Fleming's bed-room I founi a bag, on which there was blood. I found it either oil the 8th or 9th. The-bag is here. Colin Campbell, examined: I am a. police-constable, and in July last Sansiyford-plice was in my beat. I was on that beat on Saturday, July 5. I go on my beat at 8 o'clock at night, and remain on duty till 6 in the morning. I saw two women coming out of 17, Sandyford-place. I saw them well. I was just stand- ing outside the ratling foment them. They stood about five minutes, and one went away and the other turned back. They came out of the front door. It was about half-past 8 or a quarter to 9. ( The witness was here told, Look at that woman there," and said: The prisoner is not the woman. She is neither of the ] women. T am nnitp. snvo Mr. Gifford: Was it daylight ?—It was a clear night. I passed the two women. I was coming out of No. 18, and they were coming out of No. 17. '1 hey stood ai the door; I went foment the door to speak to the woman. I heard the door shut. I saw a woman running to shut the door. Have you any reason for fixing the time of Saturday?—Yes, because I wrote a letter to my father that night, and' when I came to the corner of Elderslie-street I found I had forgot to post it; and when I went home on Tuesday after hearing of the mur- der, I asked when I posted the letter, and they"said it was Satur- day night. I had a clear recollection of it myself; but I wanted to be sure of it. Lord Deas: Who did you ask?—My landlady and her man The letter was to my father, who lives three miles from Oban. Lord Deas: Did you send for the letter?—I never thought of doing that. Examined by Mr. Clark: You remember of vourselfthat it was Saturday that you wrote the letter ?—Yes. Lord Deas: Did you ever think of what you had seen till you heard of the murder ?—No. Mr. Gifford then made a long and able'speech on behalf of the Crown, contending that the chain of circumstantial evidence was so complete as to leave no reasonable doubt as to the prisoner's guilt. v Mr. Clark (for the prisoner) contended at considerable length and with great force on the unreliability of the evidence oil which it was sought to conviec the prisoner. He particularly dwelt on old Fleming's conduct, and strove to show that he must have been fully aware of the murder, if in reality he was not himself the murderer. Mr. Clark concluded by sayingIt may be that people feel that the blood of this unfortunate woman cries aloud for vengeance. I only hope that you will leave that vengeance to Him who has claimed it as his own, and who can direct a stroke with an unerring hand, and that now with that humility in which human law and human justice acknowledges its error, better that a thousand guilty persons should escape than that one innocent person should perish (luud applause). Mr. Clark concluded his speech at nine o'c oc t, amidst great applause. The court then adjourned. Conclusion of the Trial. On Saturday the court met again at 25 minutes past 10 o'clock, when Lord Deas took his seat on the bench. As the protracted trial approached its termination the interest in the result increased. Before the court gates were opened at nine o'clock, a crowd blocked up the entrances to the court, and pressed their way into the court whenever the gates were throw n open. The prisoner, Jessie M'Lachlan, was much paler than formerly, and more anxious-looking, but she maintained the composure she had all along exhibited. Lord Deas very carefully summed up the voluminous evidence which had been given in the course of the three previous days, and, referring to a practice which is peculiar to Scotch juris- prudence, his lordship said:—Such being the sort of facts which the crown says have been proved, you must look next to how the prisoner proposes to explain these facts. She was examined on declaration, as every prisoner is in this country who is apprehended on a criminal charge. One great object of that is to allow the prisoner an opportunity, if the prisanei thinks proper, to make some explanation of the circumstances which may seem to weigh against her. The statements made by the accused person are not according to the laws of this country evidences against the accused person further than the inquiry bears them out. But if they are not, properly speaking, evidence in favour of the party, still less ari they evidence against any person elso It would be a very alarming state of matters if the statement a person accused of a capital crime, it may be, was to be re- garded as against some third party, who bid no opportunhy of defending himself or herself. That is not the law. AfLer minutely discussing the evidence and facts which were supposed to incriminate the elder Air. Fleming his lordship added:- I need hardly say to you that you canllot expect in a case of this kind the evidence of eye-witnesses. Cir- cumstantial evidence, if sufficiently clear, is more safe sometimes than direct testimony. Tnere can be no combination -there can be no conspiracy in such a chain of circumstances as we have here. There can be no laying of heads together by so many different people to frame the various parts into one con- nected story. The only possible error is that we may draw a wrong inference from the facts. There is a possibility of error in everything human. We have no absolute certainty, in one sense, about anything. It is always possible that we may be in error. The possibility of error is only excluded by Diety. But what vou and I have to consider is whether, as reasonable men—with the reason that God has given us-looking to the whole chain of circumstances before us, we are led to one reasonable conclusion. If there is any doubt in the case the pri- soner is entitled to the benefit of it; but it must be a reasonable doubt. It is not enough to say it is explainable, or that some- thing else might have happened. If you have no reasonable doubt, then your duty to your God and to your country is to give the conclusion effect, whatever it may be. The jury then retired, and were absent about a quarter of an hour. On their return, in reply to the usliel question of the clerk of court, their foreman said:—"The jury are unanimously of opinion that the prisoner is Guilty of both charges of murder and theft, as libelled." The announcement of the verdict made no visible impression on the prisoner, who still maintained the same outward compo- sure which f he nad exhibited throughout the whole trial, although she became even paler than she had previously been. She once or twice lifted up her handkerchief to her face, but she shed no tears, and sucieeded almost entirely in repressing any signs of emotion. The clerk of court proceeded to write out the formal sentence, during which Mr. Clark was engaged in consultation with the prisoner with a bulky manuscript in his hand. When the sen- tence was prepared, Mr. Clark addressed his lordship as follows:—I understand the prisoner desires to make a statement before sentence is pro- nounced, or that a statement from her own lips shall be read by some one for her. Lord Deas: She is quite at liberty to make her statement in any way she desires, upon consultation with you. Mr. Clark.: My lord, she has desired me to read it. The prisoner here rose, and lifting up her veil for the first time during the trial, said in a clear, firm voice, and with much earnestness: I desire to have it read, my lord. I am as innocent as my child, which is only three years old. Mr. Clark then read a long statement, in which the prisoner told a completely new story from her previous declarations. She denied that she was the murderer, and proceeded at great length and with peculiar circumstantiality to relate a most plausible tale as to how the murder was committed. She admitted having visited the deceased on the night in question; but stated that it was old Mr. Fleming who had done the bloody deed. She had gone out for drink about 11 o'clock at night, and when she returned the deceased was lying insensible, with a deep wound on the forehead, which had been admittedly done by old Fleming. She wished to go for a doctor several times during the night, but Fleming refused; but by-and-bye Jessie so far re- covered as to be able to speak, and then she told her that old Fleming had attacked her in a passion, and because he was afraid she would inform his son that he had been attempting to take liberties with her. Subsequently the same night, while she went into utrotUcr ruvui a little, Fleming attacked the deceased again, and killed her outright. Then he would not allow her to go away until he made her swear on the Bible that she would never reveal what had taken place and he gave her some clothes and silver plate, so that he might be able to state in the mornin2- that the house had been robbed, and the servant murdered. Lord Deas then passed sentence. He said: You have under- gone a trial of unusual length, where all the inquiry has Deen pursued with the greatest possible care, and where your defence has been conducted in the ablest manner. Everything has been done for you that talent and judgment could do; and alter all the attention they have been able to pay to the case you have been found guilty by the unanimous verdict of the jury, in which I entirely coueur. You chose to put in a defence to the effect that a gentleman, whose character up to that time has been unstained, was the murderer, and you were not the murderer. If anything had been awauting to show how dangerous it would be to the lives and the liberties of the people of this country if the statements of prisoners who are capable of committing such a crime as you have committed were to be listened to as affecting the character, the lives, and the liberties of other individuals- if anything were awanting to show the danger of listening to such statements, of giving them the least credibility, I think the ex- ample we have now had of the paper which has been read to ng would have been quite sufficient to satisfy us of that danger. The evidence has been considered, and the jury have unani- mously returned their verdict finding you guilty as libelled. I have already said that I cannot do otherwise than say that I concur in that verdict, and that no other verdict woula have been consistent with the ends of justice, or with the proof in this case. In that state of matters it leaves me no alternative whatever except to proasunee upon you the sen- tence which I have now to read. His lordship then proceeded to pass sentence upon the prisoner, condemning her to be removed from the bar to the prison of Glasgow, there to be detained, and fed on bread and water, till Saturday, the 11th October next; and upon that day, between the hours of eight and ten, to be taken from the said prison to the common place of the burgh of Glasgow, or to such other place as the magistrates of Glasgow shall appoint as a place of execution, and there, by the hands of the common executioner, to be hanged by the neck upon a gibbet until she be dead, and that her body be thereafter buried within the precincts of the said prison. His lordship very solemnlv concluded by the usual words :-This is pronounced for doom. May God Almighty have mercy on your soul. While Lord Deas was addressing the prisoner, she stood up composedly and listened to his lordship's observations, until he referred to her statement as to old Mr. Fleming's complicity in the crime. Then, when Lord Deas characterised that statement as a wicked tissue of falsehoods, the tears coursed down her cheeks, and she frequently raised her handkerchief to her face, clutching it convulsively, and dashing away the tears that gushed over her face. Once, when the judge referred to her having repeated the statement implicating old Mr. Fleming she ejaculated, Well, my Lord," —— and, as if overcome by emo- tion, was unable to finish the sentence. During the whole time that Lord Deas was addressing her, the prisoner seemed much agitated, and frequently applied her handkerchief to wipe away her tears. On being removed, the prisoner, in & voice which was scarcely audible, exclaimed, "Mercy! aye, He'll hae mercy, for I'm innocent." Lord Deas then thanked the jury for the attention they had given to the case. The foreman of the jury, in acknowledging" the compliment, expressed the sense which the jury entertained of the attention which had been paid to their comfort during the trial. The Court then rose, and the spectators of the trial speedily made their way to the street, where the crowd had become still more dense than, ever, so as to make egress a most difficult matter. The strange and startling statement so unexpectedly made by the prisoner added immensely to the public excitement in Glas- gow at the result of the trial, and all the newspaper offices and news shops were literally besieged till a late hour in the evening for latest editions containing the prisoner's statement and sen- tence. The circulation of the Glasgow dailies was, in fact, only limited by the capabilities of their machinery, for the supply of papers by four and six-feeder Hoe machines—the latter printing it the rate ot about ten thousand an hour-was at no time luring the trial equal to the demand; and on Saturday evening- was not sufficient to satisfy a tithe of those eager to become purchasers.