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Title: The Tichborne romance : a full and accurate report of the proceedings in the extraordinary and interesting trial of Tichborne v. Lushington in the Court of Common Pleas ... : including the whole of the examination, cross-examination and re-examination of the claimant.

Author:

Published: John Heywood, Manchester, [1871]

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THE
TICHBORNE ROMANCE:
A
FULL AND ACCURATE REPORT
OF THE PROCEEDINGS IN THE
EXTRAORDINARY AND INTERESTING TRIAL
OF
TICHBORNE V. LUSHINGTON,
IN THE COURT OF COMMON PLEAS, WESTMINSTER,
FOR FORTY DAYS,
FROM WEDNESDAY, MAY 10, TO FRIDAY, JULY 7, 1871;
INCLUDING THE WHOLE OF THE
EXAMINATION, CROSS-EXAMINATION, AND RE-EXAMINATION
OF THE CLAIMANT.
MANCHESTER: JOHN HEYWOOD, 141 AND 143, DEANSGATE.
LONDON: SIMPKIN, MARSHALL, & CO., STATIONERS' HALL COURT E.C.
LIVERPOOL: W. Gilling. BIRMINGHAM: W. Willey, J. Guest LEEDS: Mrs. Mann,
T. Barmby, Summersgill. BRADFORD: J. Hammond, Morgan. SHEFFIELD: J.
Allison. BRISTOL: Jeffries & Son. HULL: W. Adams. PRESTON: Harkness.
EDINBURGH: J. Menzies & Co., Robinson. GLASGOW: W. Love. DUBLIN:
McGlashan & GILL.

SUMMARY.

FIRST DAY.—WEDNESDAY, MAY 10.

In the Court of Common Pleas, Westminster.

On this day the judge, counsel, witnesses, and others were all assembled, but the trial did not, as will be seen, commence till the next day.

The names of the special jury having been called ove, it was found that only two were present. It being suggested that the jurors might have gone to the Sessions House close by, an officer was sent there, but did not see any. The names were called again, and repeated outside the court, but without effect. After a short time

The Chief-Justice said that he had sent over to the sessions house again to see if any of the jurors were waiting.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that he went there himself under the impression that the case would be heard there, but he did not see any gentlemen or anything approaching a jury there. (A laugh).

The Chief-Justice supposed that many of the jurors did not find it convenient to come to this particular trial. (A laugh).

The Solicitor-General stated that both sides were fully prepared for trial, and it would be impossible for the case to stand over. It would be disastrous to both the plaintiff and the defendants. He hoped that, if the jury did not come, his Lordship would issue a special order for their attendance on the morrow.

The Chief-Justice said that all he could do was to fine the absent jurors, and increase the fines till they did attend.

The Solicitor-General suggested that there might have been some mistake in the form of the summons, but

The Chief-Justice thought that the presence of two jurors was a sufficient proof that that was not so.

A third juror having now entered, stated that he had been told on his arrival that the jury had been called, and he had been very glad to hear it. He was about to leave the court, when the Chief-Justice said: '' Will you please to go into the box?'" (A laugh )

The Chief-Justice then said that possibly the statement which had appeared in the newspapers as to the probable length of the trial might have induced some of hose who had been summoned to keep away in the hope that their fellows would be called instead of themselves.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine thought that in such a case as that to be heard they ought to have a full special jury, and the Solicitor-General concurred in that view.

The Chief-Justice: Perhaps you could make some alteration in the panel. There are two gentlemen who have sent in medical certificates of their inability to attend; so that ihe list is reduced to twenty-two. [Twenty-four was the number summoned.] It may be that the Sheriff will empanel olher gentlemen.

Mr. Burchell, the Under-Sheriff, said he was entirely in the hands of the Court.

The Chief-Justice: I am afraid it is hopeless to expect that any more gentlemen will attend now. I will, however, wait a little while. The officet of the Court has looked through the panel, and it is possible that some of the gentlemen whose names remain are exempt by law from serving on a tri d. There is one gentleman a member of Parliament, who is certainly exempt, and it is very likely there are others who may claim similar privileges. I have desired the officer, theref re, to go to the other Courts, and enquire if there are any gentlemen in the panel who are exempt by law. Having ascertained that, the names of some gentlemen who will attend may be added, the only course, I can take, will be to fine absent jurymen for non-attendance £10 for to-day, and to order their prompt attendance to-morrow. The summons states that they must attend from day to day until the cause is over. If they are not present to-morrow, I shall fine each of them £20; and so I must go on increasing the fine by £10 a day till I can secure a jury.

A juror thereupon ventered to hope that the compensation to the jury would be increased in the same proportion. (A laugh.)

The Solicitor-General: It has occurred to me that there would he certain inconvenience and difficulty in submitting a list of names to the solicitors on both sides. I would suggest, with the concurrence of my learned friend, that, as we have great confidence in Mr. Burehell, the Under Sheriff, and absolute confidence in your lordship, it would be better for us not to know the names of the new jurymen; if Mr. Burehell submitted certain names to your lordship, and you saw that there was no objection, they might be added to the panel.

The Chief-Justice: I think that would hardly be right. There might be some names on the panel to which either side might reasonably object. Mr. Burchell might prepare a panel, and then the solicitors might enquire, and reject any names to which they objected.

The solicitor-General: I think almost all those of the twenty-two who are left will hear of what has passed through what, in Parliamentary slang, is called the usual channels of public information, and I have no doubt that the intimation of your lordship of a geometrical progression in the amount of the fine will produce its effect.

The Chief-Justice: I did not say that I would double it every day. The panel summoned to-day has been gone over by the officer of the Court, and he finds that of those who are upon the panel six are returned as " gone away;" there is one who is returned as dead, and he cannot attend; another is returned as unknown, and he cannot attend.

The Solicitor-General: That leaves fourteen.

It was then found that three out of the fourteen were members of Parliament.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine thought that if the Under Sheriff would add a few to the panel who were not so aristocratic, they might have a better chance of getting a jury.

The Solicitor-General was clad to hear such a suggestion from his learned friend.

The Chief-Justice remarked that it was possible that in their desire to have an excellent jury they had gone too high.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine was afraid that some of those who had been summoned would regard with indifference the progression of fines which his lordship intended to impose.

The Solicitor-General thought that it would be almost impossible to get a fresh set by to-morrow.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am informed that several gentlemen have been turned away by the officers of the Court.

The Chief-Justice: Orders were given that every one should be admitted on producing his summons, or stating that he was summoned on the jury; and therefore that cannot be the excuse. There were also directions given that a police officer should be stationed outside the door, to secure access to the court. (Addressing one of the jurymen in attendance): Did you find any difficulty in getting into Court?

The Juryman: None whatever.

The Solicitor-General: I think that your lordship should issue an order requiring as many of the gentlemen on the panel as are available to attend to morrow; and, if the attorneys can arrange with Mr. Burchell to summon additional men, let it be done. Let us try to go on to-morrow. We are here at immense expense, and it would be dreadful to go over for any length of time. Let us try to-morrow, and, if it be necessary to adjourn, it will only be necessary to adjourn for one day.

The Chief-Justice: I have no doubt that Mr. Burchell, from his experience in and connection with compensation juries, will find some gentlemen who can and will attend, and to whom there is no objection.

The Solicitor-General: It is rather difficult to express one's meaning, but these may not be exactly the persons that one wants. If the present panel is summoned for to-morrow morning it is probable that we may get twelve; but, in case there is any difficulty, we might also take steps to have a supplemental panel summoned.

The Chief-Justice: There are also two gentlemen who have sent two medical certificates.

The Solicitor-General thought that as the case was not a case of a day, it might be injurious to any juryman who did not begin in full health.

It was then stated that out of the twenty-four summoned, thirteen were not available.

The Chief-Justice: This only shows the necessity of a new Jury Act being passed. I can only now say that all those jurymen who have been duly summoned, and have no reasonable excuse for not appearing, are fined £10. And I may intimate that if they do n it attend to-morrow I will increase the fine to £20. I will also give directions to the Under Sheriff to prepare a fresh panel. The amendment of the panel will be by consultation.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

SECOND DAY.—THURSDAY, MAY 11.

FIRST DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Common Pleas, Westminster.

The call of the jury panel this morning resulted in nine jurors answering to their names; of these tive only belonged to the original panel, and four to the new or supplemental panel.

The Chief-Justice said that he should fine every absentee £20, in addition to the £10 of yesterday, unless a satisfactory reason were given for non-attendance

After a short time, Mr. R. N. Philips, M.P., came into court, and claimed exemption as a member of Parliament.

The Chief-Justice at once admitted his right to be exempted, but stated that his attendance would be very acceptable if he would give it.

Mr. Philips, however, stated that his Parliamentary engagements would prevent him from acceding to his lordship's wishes, which he would otherwise have been glad to obey.

The Chief-Justice asked whether counsel would agree to have the case tried by nine jurors, whereupon

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said: My lord, under the circumstances I must, on the part of Sir Roger Tichborne, pray a tales.

The Chief-Justice drew attention to a medical certificate with reference to the ill-health of one of the jurors in the box.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine pointed out that the certificate did not appear to express the opinion of the medical man himself, and he had no doubt the juror would be able to serve.

The Solicitor-General said that, with reference to his learned friend's intention to pray a tales, he would say that it was of the utmost importance that a special jury should be obtained, and he ventured to suggest to his lordship that a special messenger should be dispatched to procure the attendance of. some of the absent jurors.

The Chief-Justice said that he was willing to dd so, and that, in addition to the £10 yesterday and the £20 this morning, he would fine those who did not obey this special summons £50, and he would increase the fine to £500 if they did not attend, altuough he was well aware that no fine whiuh he might impose would adequately represent the serious loss entailed by their absence on both sides, whose expenses were enormous.

The Solicitor-General suggested that the court should adjourn till the return of the special messenger.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine hoped that a sense of duty would induce the jurors to attend. (A laugh.) He desired it to be understood, however, that if, on the re-assembling of the court, there were not a full special jury, he should pray a tales, because he considered it essential that the trial should proceed at once.

The Chief-Justice hoped that some of the magistrates sitting at the Sessions House might be induced to attend.

The Solicitor-General suggested that the Court should adjourn till one o'clock, and said that in his opinion it was so important to have a full special jury, that if the messenger should fail to bring the absent jurors he should ask for an adjournment till the next day.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I agree with my learned friend in thinking it is desirable to have a full special jury in this case, and yesterday it was hoped we should have secured one for to-day. It is, however, infinitely more important to Sir Roger that there should be no further delay; and, as my learned friend has intimated the course he intends to pursue, I shall claim my right to ask that the jury may be filled up by talesmen, who may be here for the purpose. No doubt it is desirable that we should have an intelligent ju y; at the same time the appearance of several common jurymen may bring equally important elements into the box. I am content to try the matter, whether the jury be special or common. I must ask your Lordship to treat it as an ordinary case, and I claim the right of having the jurymen called who are present in Court, for the purpose of being empanneled if necessary. (Applause.)

The Chief-Justice said there must be no expression of opinion in that Court. Those who expressed satisfaction with one sentiment might express dissatisfaction with another, and the place would become a bear-garden

The Solicitor-General said that in such a case as the present, he did not consider it right that his learned friend should have the power of einpanneling any juryman who might happen to be there. He submitted that it was a matter for his Lordship s discretion.

The Chief-Justice said that it was so, certainly; and in an ordinary case the trial must hive stood over. He understood that his brother Ballantine did not object to wait till one o'clock.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine did not object on the hypothesis that the trial was then proceeded with.

The Chief-Justice: Of course I cannot pledge myself to that. If the gentlemenattend we may proceed, but if not we must then determine what shall be done. I shall go on increasing the fines to £500, and probably this intimation may induce them to obey the law. We will now adjourn, and in the meantime the sheriff will send special messengers after the jury. I am not sure whether the more convenient course will not be to adjourn altogether till to-morrow morning.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantme: Sincerely and truly, I think not. This matter has been in abeyance for years, and we thought we had brought it to a point in ordinary caset a prayer for tales would have been granted. I do not see why it should presens greater difficulties than those to be met with in many of the causes tried by your Lordship. It is impossible to know what may happen before to-morrow. I do not like to introduce any of the topics connected with the position of the parties, but your Lordship cannot shut your eyes to the enormous expense which is entailed upon us coming here Sir Roger has the strongest desire to have the case tried in any tribunal and under any conceivable circumstances, and I am sure he would sooner have it tried by a jury who are willing to attend than by a body of gentlemen who are forced, as it were, into the box.

The Chief-Justice then said that he would adjourn the court till one o'clock, and told the nine jurymen present that they must re appear at that time.

The Solicitor-General said it would be most comenient if his Lordship would publicly announce, for their future guidance in this case, the course he proposed to adopt as to sitting.

The Chief-Justice said that, on thinking the matter over, and the various engage mentsthat both gentlemen at the bar and the jury had, the better course would be to sit punctually at 10 o'clock in the morning and not take a fresh witness after 4 o'clock; and, for the convenience of the jury, who might for a long period be detained here from their various avocations, he proposed to adjourn over the Saturdays.

The Solicitor-General was much obliged to his Lordship. Might he suggest that they should not meet till halt-past 10 o'clock on Mondays?

The Chief-Justice: Very well; it is difficult to yet the jury earlier on that day.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Yes, my Lord; we we were only thinking of that. (A laugh.)

On the re-assembling of the Court at one o'clock, two additional jurymen answered to their names, both of whom however pleaded excuses. One of them, Capt. Aikman, claimed exemption on the ground that he was one of her Majesty's Body Guard, and that he had to go on duty at the Palace to-morrow.

The Chief-Justice, after referring to the Act of Parliament, said: I have gone through, the Act of Parliament, and I don't find any exemption in your case. The exemptions which the Act specifies under which you might come are these: officers of the army or navy, militia, and yeomanry, on full pay, and household servants of her Majesty her heirs and successors; but Parliament, in its wisdom, seems not to have included her Majesty's Body Guard.

Captain Aikman: I have received her Majesty's commands to be present at the Palace to-morrow.

The Chief-Justice: Her Majesty, by virtue of her prerogative, has commanded you to be here, and you cannot he in two places at the same time She commands you to attend here unless you are exempted by Act of Parliament, and until Parliament does exempt you, or unless you can produce some authority for exemption, you must he sworn. Perhaps before the close of this session there will be a fresh jury act— (laughter)—and, if so, you and those with whom you are associated, may he allowed exemption.

The other juryman—Mr. Rider—stated that he was a partner in the banking-house of Coutts & Co., who had the account of the Tichborne family.

The Solicitor-General: Neither of us object.

The Chief-Justice: I do not suppose that in your conscience that fact has a bias on your mind.

Mr. Rider: It is impossible for me to say that there may not be some natural bias.

The Chief-Justice: Does either side object?

The Solicitor-General: Certainly not, my lord.

Mr. Rider therefore remained.

The Chief-Justice then said that all those jurymen who had received fresh notices, and who had not attended, would be fined £50. He thought it a public duty on gentleman in their position to perform the duties to which they were called in the Administration of justice. He had received a letter from Lord Alan Churchill, which stated that he was out of town, but he did not say when he left (laughter), and another summons had been returned, marked " Out of town." It should be known that, in addition to being fined, gentlemen who were summoned on juries and did npt .attend were liable to be imprisoned for contempt of Court.

The Solicitor-General then stated that both sides agreed to have the case tried by the eleven jurymen in the box.

The Jury were therefore sworn, and

Mr. Rose opened the proceedings by brie$$Unclear$$y stating the nature of the action.

Mr. SERJEANT BALLANTINE then rose and said: My lord and gentlemen of the jury, it must be, at all events, a matter of great satisfaction to all of those whose i terests are concerned in t e case, that at last we are enabled to bring the issue before a jnry, and to Comm- nee an inquiry of such great and vital importance. Nobody can doubt the truth of this description who witnesses the manner in which the court is now crowded, probably by manv deeply interested in the ultimate result. It is, indeed, by no means wonderful that such a feeing should exist, when one considers the nature of the issue that has ultimately to be decided by you. That issue is, in point of fact, whether or not the person who is now the claimant is entitled to an ancient baronetcy, and to tiie possession of very large estates in different counties in this country. Toe fact, also, that there are other persons in possession of these estates, and that a young person exists who has always imagined that he should be entitled to the baronetcy, also adds great interest to this inquiry. There is another, which it is impossible to lose sight of, though subordinate to the main issue, and that is, whether the gent'eman whom I represent is in reality heir to the baronetcy, and entitled to the possession of the property, or whether he is the representative of one of the most atrocious impostures thai was ever conceived by mortal man. These questions all render this matter one which must create interest in the public mind, and will make you feel how important is the duty you have to discharge in coming to a conclusion upon the different facts which I shall have to place before you. I am obliged to tell you that there is no short cut in a decision in this case. Justice cannot be done until after an extremely lengthened, very special, and very minute inquiry into a vast number of facts, supported by a vast number of witnesses, in many respects conflicting, in many respects difficult to understand, but all of which, nevertheless, must be brought to your attention and carefully gathered up in your mind, before you can pronounce a judgment in this case. I am well aware that out of the mouths of interested persons reports have been circulated of which my client has grett reason to complain, and courts of justice have been applied to to protect him from stories related about him in the public press. When one remembers the vast number of persons that are interested in this case, we can hardly wonder that such reports have been spread; and I allude to them, not for the purpose of asking you to dismiss any unfavourable impressions from your mind, but for the purpose of entreating that you may not be carried away by any parti ular branch of evidence. This case is so complicated and extraordinary, presents so many wonderful features, and is so irreconcilable apparently in many of its details, that it is only by carefully listening to every branch of the evidence that justice can he done to the parties now before you, and the course of justice properly served.

Without further remark, I will now proceed to make a statement as clear and as precise as I can, of the circumstances which led to the present inquiry, and upon which the claim of the present plaintiff is founded. It will not be nec ssary that I should go back into any genealogy of the family. It is an extremely ancient one; it has a high name attached to it; but no question wir'l arise on this point to complicate the claim of this gentleman. The question is, in fact, wh ther he is the person whom he represents himself to be, or is not an impostor personating that man. My client claims as being the son of Sir James Doughty Tichborne, and, with regard to the family, I need not go any higher than his father and his two brothers. There were three brothers, of whom the father of the plaintiff was the youngest. The first brother died comparatively early, and it is not necessary that I should allude to him. The second brother took the estate upon the death of the older brother. He also took some estates belonging to the Doughty family, and, in consequence, adopted their name. Ife appears to have had no son, and died leaving a single daughter, Kate Doughty, whose name will be mentioned more than once, and who is now married to a gentleman of the name of Ratcliffe. The property is settled in the male line, and, therefore, the second brother dying without any male issue, the property and estates went to the third and youngest brother, the father of the present claimant. That was the position in which matters stood at the time I commence my narrative. When the father of the present claimant, my client, came into the property, he was living upon an allowance made to him by his family, and, consequently, his means were comparatively narrow. He had married in August, 1827, a lady of the name of Harriet Felicity Seymour. Her mother was a French lady, but her father, Mr. Seymour, was an English gentleman. She was rather more familiar with the French language than the English, but she was sufficiently acquainted! with both languages to make herself understood. She was the mother of ^ir Roger Tichborne—as I say he is—the claimant in this case. He was born on the 5th of January, 1829, and upon the 4th of September, 1839, there was another son, James, who subsequently died at an early age, having previously been married, and leaving a posthumous soOj who is the other person practically interested in this matter. His name is Alfred Jose]h, and he is the infant who will be referred to from time to time in the present inquiry. The father and mother at this time were living in Paris, and Sir Roger Tichborne, as 1 will hold him to be until he lias been dispossessed by you of that title, was brought up for several years in Paris, under a tutor. He does not appear to have been sent to any school, but to have been under the charge of a tutor of the name of Chatillon. The family, I may mention, is a Catholic family; and in the year 1845 he was sent to Stoneyhurst. During that period he made two visits, both of which will be important for your consideration. One was a visit to Sir Clifford Constable, and another was a visit to his uncle, the second brother, who at that time resided* at Tic!)borne. Some time after be was duly examined at Sandhurst, and was admitted into the army.

I will at once go to October 20, 1849, when he appears to have joined the Carabineers, at that time stationed at Portobello, in Dublin. There was a gentleman of the name of Hopkins, the family solicitor—a man of the highest honour and respectability. He was en'rusted with the management of the estate, and was thoroughly acquainted with the affairs of the family. It became necessary, almost as a matter of course, as Sir ltoger Tichborne was approaching age, that arrangements should be made in connection with the settlement of the estates. Under these circumstances Mr. Hopkins must have had many interviews and much correspondence with Sir Roger Tichborne; and you will find that he was on extremely lauiiliar terms with him, and that Sir Roger stayed for a considerable length of time at his house. There could, therefore, be no person living who could have more opportunities of accurate observation; nor could there be one who from his habits of mind, his habits of education, and his legal position, would be more likely to form a correct opin on in relation to this claim than the gentleman to whom I have referred. I admit that no opinion can be formed upon the isolated evidence of one person; but evidence coming from such a source will probably weigh on your minds as well worthy of attention, and as that of a person who is not likely to be mistaken. He is now—unfortunately for the cause I represent—dead; but though that misfortune oppresses my cause, it is fortunate that there were proceedings in Chancery in which these same matters were practically at issue, and the affidavits made in these proceedings will be given as evidence in this inquiry. In 1850 Sir Roger paid a visit to Tichborne, which was rife with matters of great importance and signal interest, tie was there for some time, and formed naturally an acquaintance with the young lady, Miss Kate Doughty. There is no doubt that the sentiments existing between them were of a kind that might have ripened into warmer feelings. I don't .assert anything further than that I believe that the intercourse between them was objected to by the father of the young lady; and, in consequence of that objection, Sir Roger left the house, and did not enter it again after the period of that visit. I shall call your attention to certain facts in connection with that young lady which showed that she loft upon his mind a considerable impression, and that operated very materially upon his mind, and upon the thoughts and influences which led him to leave the country. Having come of age, he wished to exercise the power of disposition with regard to certain portions of his property. You will find at this point one of the peculiar features in the character of Sir Roger Tichborne. We shall have to look with a great deal of minuteness into that character. We shall have to look not only at his physical appearance, but into his mental character, disposition, and his mental qualifications; and we shall find that one of his most marked qu dities is a singular secretiveness under circumstances in which one would hardly imagine that any such feeling is likely to arise. A very singular example of that occurred shortly after he came of age. He entered into communication with a gentleman of the name of Slaughter—a gentleman well known to many of the higher Catholic families of this country—with reference to making a will. He h id many interviews with Mr. Slaughter. He made the will. This circumstance was also known to Mr. Hopkins, but it was unknown to any member of the family—was unknown to any human being except Mr. Hopkins, and I believe also Mr. Gosford. This will show that his attention was a good deal taken up by Miss Kate Doughty, who obtained under that will benefits into which it is not necessary for me to enter. A legacy of £500, which is not of vital importance, but whi h is not to be lost sight of, was made to Mr. Gosford. Mr. Gosford was steward on the estate, and was personally and thoroughly well acquainted with the plaintiff. He was a person whom, I am bound also to admit, had as full opportunities of observing and recognising the claimant as Mr. Hopkins; and there can be no doubt that Mr. Gosford, if an honest witness, is a witness of vast importance, and a man whose evidence will be of a vital character in the consideration of this case. Shortly after this transaction of the will Sir Roger Tichborne sold out of the army. He appears first to have visited a place called Upton: and, after paying a hurried visit to Pans, whore were his father and mother, and his old tutor Chatillon, he returned from Paris to Havre, and there, in March, 1853, embarked on board a sailing vessel called the Pauline, bound for Valparaiso.

There is no doubt that Roger Tichborne did go through all the events and circumstances which I have mentioned; and I will now pause, in the hope that I may be able to convey to you a picture of the physical and mental characteristics of Sir Rog r Tichborne. Questions connected with personal identity have at times given me great thought and anxiety from the conclusion that people may he deceived by the mere features, and that it is rather the expression of the features than the features themselves which ultimately brings the mind to a conclusion as to the identity of an individual. A smile sometimes brings back a recollection which would be effaced by a mere examination of the features, and expression often does more than the most studied inquiry into the appearance to reveal identity. I ask you to allow that idea to govern your minds while you hear the evidence that will be given by different witnesses that will be called before you and that you will notice the mode in which they have identified Sir Roger Tichborne, and consider whether it is the natural mode of coming to a conclusion. It is desirable, however, to describe as far as I can the features of this young man. During the period from the time that be reached the age of 19 to the time that he went abroad his general appearance was slight, and his height was about 5ft. 8in.; his hair was light, with no great tendency to curl; and he had light eyes, and his general features, including forehead, eyes, and mouth, were by no means of unprepossessing character. There can he no doubt that the present claimant has increased considerably in size; but I believe I shall be able to show that a similar change was not unfrequent in the Tichborne family; and I venture to say that, after a calm consideration, you will not be disposed to find that, except in the increased bulk, there is any such material or important change as to make you repudiate the notion that ho is) really the individual which I say he is. It is much more difficult to give anything like a description of his disposition. At the age of 22 few defined traits exist in a man that might be discovered by the ordinary run of his associates and friends. He pa-sed hia early childhood in a home most likely to embitter his feelings and to drive him back upon himself. His father and mother led a miserable life. To use the expression of young Tichborne before he left England, " His home was a very hell upon earth." His father was a man of most violent temper, drinking every hour of the day, and his life was one of continuous unhappiness. He was left to the sole care of Chatillon, who, I am told, was a worthless, idle, fellow, who cared little about the education of the boy, and more about bis own amusement. In point of fact, his early life accounts for much of the unhappiness of the future, and led him to tumble into the eccentricities of which we shall hear. After he entered the army I must say that his tastes were not those becoming a gentian m, and that they drove hiin into society considerably under that of his own rank. He was fond to excess of smoking, and, beyond all question, he associated with those who were not equal to him in rank, and who were not likely to benefit his mind. He went in to the army knowing English and knowing French: and it will be matter of grave comment, upon the part of my learned friend, and worthy of your deep consideration, that although undoubtedly he was educated in France until he came over to the college at sumyhurat, and was far more in the habit of using the French language than the English, the gentleman whom I represent is by no means master of the language, and has apparently almost entirely forgotten it. I refer to this at the outset of the inquiry, because it has been used against him, and may have a powerful effect no your minds; but I shall be able to produce evidence before which it will crumble into nothing, and will cease to present that featute of importance which it. at present possesses. While in the army, his speaking French and mixing it with English made him a good deal laughed at. He was intensely susceptible, and his pride was wounded, and he found himself in many respects unequal to the ordinary habits and society of the world and of the brother officers with whom he was associated. That led him to seek the companions to which I have already referred. He was unhappy and uncomfortable in his regiment, and ultimately sold his commission. Whilst in this country he might have had connections of the highest standing, if he hid chosen to associate with them; indeed, he would have found many a family of note ready to receive him with the greatest kindness and hospitality; but he preferred leaving all, and going to South America, upon a wild and wandering expedition, the motives of which no one can explain. There is no doubt he was extremely fond of wild sports, and preferred a life of wild adventure to staying at home and occupying himself with the more tame pursuits of the field. I shall be able to give you, during the trial of the case, many an example of the mode in which he passed his life when abro id, and of the reckless manner in which he lived for years. It is desirable now that I should refer to one or two incidents of his career during the period that I have briefly sketched. With respect to one of them at least, there is no confirmation, and all must depend upon his owu testimony. During the period he was with M. iChati lon he took a tour in Brittany, and there, owing to some cause or other, he had a f ill upon his head, and a wound was inflicted upon him. We are not in communication with this M. Chatillon, though I believe the other side is, and the truth of the story must rest on ltoger Tichborne himself. He describes the fall and the wound, and I shdl show you beyond all doubt that at this moment a mark is to be seen upon his head—such a mark as would be occasioned by an injury of that description.

I will now call your attention to a circumstance that has made a very deep impression upon my mind. Besides the many rumours that have been given vent to, with respect to this extraordinary case, there are other matters, to which I shall call your attention, which have never been mentioned at all, and which have not been referred to; yet they are of such a character that if they are proved to your satisfaction, as I have no doubt they will, it will make it very difficult indeed for the human mind to escape the conclusion that this gentleman is in reality—however long he may have been concealed—the Roger Tichbome who left the country in the Pauline. The circumstance to winch I now refer occurred during the period he was in the army, and it is an incident of a vitally important character. During the time he was at Canterbury he was seized with illness, which terminated in a very serious fit. A medical man was sent for, his servant was in attendance, and Roger Tichborne was found to be in such a state that none of the ordinary remedies—bleeding in the arm and so forth—led to his recovery. The medical man considered the case moat serious, and he suggested, as the only mode by which vitality was likely to be regained, that he should be bled upon or above the aukle. His stocking was accordingly stripped off, the lancet was applied, bloud was drawn, and Sir Roger recovered from his fainting fit shortly afterwards. Unfortunately, the medical man has since died; but I shall be able to call before you three witnesses-—the servant and two others, subordinates in his regiment at the time—who will speak to this circumstance as being perfectly within their recollection. With respect to this bleeding in the ankle, I shall produce to you some of the urnst eminent surgeons in London, who have examined the scar, and they will tell you that it is of such a kind that it could not have been manufactured by Sir Roger since his arrival in ihis country. The mark will be spoken to by Sir William Fergusson, aiid that eminent man will tell you that the mark is of a much longer standing than the time that has elapsed since Sir Roger claimed the estate, and that it could not, by any human ingenuity, have been created in the meantime. If you take this circumstance into your consideration I will venture to ask you, however you may choose to regard as true or false the leading features of this, extraordinary case, to agree with me in this, that this is a circumstance which must be grasped, fully understood, and completely explained before you can say that this is a false and fabricated claim, and that there are not elements of great importance to support it.

I will now mention another circumstance which I consider to be of great importance in this melodramatic case. I have mentioned to you a person of the name of Gosford, who was the steward of these estates. Mr. Gosford was entitled to, and took, under circumstances which were peculiarly legitimate, the sum of £500 as a legacy under Mr. Tichborne's will. He managed tlie different estates, and when Sir Roger came back he (Sir Roger) certainly did not exhibit any very great cunning in relation to those with whom he ought to have made friends; and reports became rife that he intended to make inquiries into the distribution of money that had fallen into the hands of Gosford. Now, if Gosford should appear as a witness in this case, I shall have to put to him many questions upon that subject. I will make no assertion now against him, beyond this—that Sir Roger allej.es that he misconducted himself in the management of these estates; that he allowed timber to be cut and taken away; that he peimitted persons to injure the estate in every possible way; and, moreover, that he had received very large sums of money which he (Sir Roger) intimated he should make him account for directly he obtained possession of the property. I believe I shall show, further, that from that time Gosford became the bitterest and most malignant of all his persecutors; but, thank God, Sir Roger is here to tell his own story, and he does not heed any miseiable gossip or calumnies that may arise; he is here, I say, to give his evidence on oath, and in the face of day. But Mr. Gosford has hunted him in a very bitter manner, and it is the impression of Sir Roger that there is not in the community at the present moment any man more thoroughly convinced that he (Sir Roger) is the well-known heir, the genuine baronet, than Gosford is. Mr. Gosford, I believe, may come, and I trust will come, to deny that impression. Well, before Sir Roger left this country, he put into the hands of Mr. Gosford a ealed packet for reasons which before the end of this case, may be apparent. I do not desire to enter into this matter at too great a length,; but I say that Sir Roger left in the care of Gosford a sealed packet, telling him it contained certain directions in the event of his death. Since his anival in this country, in the presence of witnesses beyond all impeachment, Mr. Gosford has admitted that he possesses this .sealed packet—he has admitted it in the presence of a gentleman of the name of Bulfrrt, a banker, and another of the name of Inxeman; and I must ask you to dwell for a moment upon the very great importance of this circumstance. The contents of the packet were not known to any man except Sir Roger at the time he left this country in the Pauline—no human being but himself could have known it—no human being at this moment can tell it. But mark, then, my client, without pledging himself exactly to words, is able to tell the contents of that document. If he •does not tell you correctly, he challenges the production of it for the purpose of showing that he lies; but, if he does tell you, what value, then, will you not place upon his testimony? Gentlemen, that packet, in my opinion, will never be produced. I know all that has taken place since, and I say so from what I know. I know what Gosford said during the examination on the part of the defendant. I don't believe he will produce it; and, if he does not, then I must ask you to come to the conclusion that in the possession of Sir Roger Tichborne is a fact which nlust greatly weigh in his favour. He is ready to give evidence to you with respect to this packet, and he challenges contradiction of it by any of the opposite party You will understand I say all this with a perfect knowledge of what Mr. Gosford said upon the subject. I say again that I do not believe he will produce that packet in this court, and if not then his innate conviction must be that Sir Roger Tichborne is the man, and that he is not, as has been alleged, telling a deliberate falsehood.

Now, gentlemen, I am going to ask you to take a somewhat long journey with me; but I will endeavour to make it as short as possible. It is necessary, however, that your attention should be called to certain localities, names of certain places which you will hear of in the course of the tr ial. Well, the Pauline sailed from Havre in March. 1853. Sir Roger was accompanied on his voyage by a person named Moore, who was his body-servant at the time; and I will venture to give you a description, as far as I can, of his travels, and show you that he was a person of a wandering disposition, not at all particular in his habits, and not disposed to seek those comforts of travel which he might have enjoyed if he had chosen to place them at his command. The vessel seems to have gone without stopping to Valparaiso, which port she reached on the 19th June, 1853. Valparaiso is upon the sea coast, and about 95 miles inland is the town of Santiago, where he and Moore proceeded after a time. At Santiago Moore was taken ill, and was unable to travel further. In consequence of this Roger Tichborne left him there and returned to Valparaiso, intending to board the Pauline and proceed with her throughout the rest of her voyage. On his reaching Valparaiso, however, ho found that the vessel was not ready to sail, and that three or four weeks would elapse before she was prepared for sea. He decided immediately upon going to Melipilla, a village a short distance from the coast, and what took place there must be regarded as some of the most important evidence in the cause. It is said that Sir Roger was never at Melipilla at all, and that the whole story of his going there is a fabrication and an untruth. After knocking about that insignificant village for about three weeks and amusing himself in an extremely wild sort of way, he returned to Valparaiso, and remained there till the time came for him to embark on board the Pauline. I may mention that during tlie time he was at Valparaiso lie sent over to this country a quantity of skins and feathers of birds; and one matter to which I sh ill call your attention will be this, that he thoroughly recognises those articles, not from anything that has been said to him, hut he remembers distinctly the circumstance, and is prepared to swear to it. He seems to have taken a coast voyage not of the most interesting kind, in the Pauline, and to have returned by another vessel to Valparaiso. Then he crossed the Continent of South America, and on his return got to Santiago, where he had left Moore. He was discovered there by Moore under circumstances which I will hereafter detail to you, and ultimately made his way to Rio Janeiro.

After staying there a short time, he embarked, under circumstances that form no slight part of this extraordinary romance, on board the Bella, a vessel freighted for New York, for the purpose of taking his passage there. At this time ho had with him a person named Jules JBarrant, and I am afraid his habits were not those of a prudent or sober man. Sir Roger undoubtedly got drunk on board that vessel— exceedingly drunk, I may say—and Jules Barrant, taking advantage of bis position, took possession of some portion of his property. Shortly afterwards came the loss of the Bella, and in July the news arrived in England that the vessel and all hands had gone down, and that not a single soul was saved. It was believed that Sir Roger was defunct, and, after the necessary preliminaries had been gone through, the will of his father was proved, and the property taken possession of by the next of kin. No belief was entertained of his being alive; and, from that time to the period when this gentleman made his appearance and claimed the estates, no doubt existed as to Sir Roger having gone to the bottom with the rest of the crew of the Bella. The point will be disputed whether Sir Roger was ever at Melipilla at all, and upon that question a grerat deal will arise. It is said that he never was fond of Moore; that for some reason or other he believed him to be a spy sent out with him for the purpose of correcting him of those habits to which he (Sir Roger) had become addicted; but, at all events, however that may be, it is certain that he had in his mind a feeling which was not at all favourable to the individual. I will explain the circumstances under which Moore will be a witness. He is a man of unusually good character, and is now a butler in a family whore he is regarded as a man of excellent character. Shortly after Tichborne appeared in this country you will find that Chancery proceedings took place, and that during these proceedings a commission was issued for the examination of Sir Roger Tichbome, Gosford, and other persons named in the commission. That inquiry took place in the hall of the Law Society, and Sir Roger Tichbome underwent an extremely long cross-examination. It was not known to himself nor to his advisers upon whose information that crossexamination took place; but it turns out that his opponents had been for some time in communication with Moore. I believe Moore had a firm conviction that my client was not in reality the man he represented himself to be, and under that impression he had given full information to the other side upon which they made this crossexamination of Sir Roger Tichbome. Now, on board the Pauline there were circumstances which were known only to Moore and the genuine Sir Roger Tichbome, and which could not be known to any other persons who will figure in this inquiry. Among other matters upon which, at this examination, Sir Roger was questioned, an inquiry was made as to whether he remembered any particular incident on board the Pauline. For a long time he could remember nothing; but at last, after he had been pressed by the learned gentleman, he said, " Well, I think there was something occurred—I think it was something about an albatross. I think we were fishing for albatrosses, and I think I got a blow on my eye." He had never said on? word upon such a circumstance until pressed in cross-examination upon the information of Moore. Sir Roger Tichbome told the story; he did not tell it quite accurately; but the fact of his mentioning the circumstance of the albatross and the injury don? to his eye is a matter to which your attention will be called. Moore was, in point of fact, at this time informing the other side, but when this incident was mentioned he declined to assist any further in the endeavour to defeat the claim of Sir Roger Tichbome. He has since been discovered; and, though he did not appear willingly, he now says that ho has not the remotest doubt in the world that this is the mm with whom he went out as body servant on board the Pauline. He remembers the transaction of the albatross, and it was not by the wing or beak of the bird that the injury wis indicted, but by a hook; and the s -ar of it exists in the eye at the present moment. Refore the end of tnis case you will be invited to the conclusion that certain persons are leagued with Sir Roger Tichborne to defeat justice, and to set up a tnan who is an imposter, and therefore you will have to consider what credit is due to Moore. I can understand how a person may be mistaken as to identity, but as regards the fact of the albatross, short of conspiracy between these two persons, I am utterly unable to imagine how the story could be told. There is another circumstance that was not brought out in a similar way, but wlrch is still well worthy of your attention. Moore remembers perfectly well that on one occasion he was writing up a diary, and Tichborne came up to him and said " What are you writing there?" Moore made soma answer, and Tichborne said, "Well, whatever you do, don't stick me into your diary." You will find that Moore thoroughly remembers this circumstance.

I must now call your attention to the evidence of Mr. Hopkins, and I believe that had he lived this contest would hardly have taken place. Be was a man of uncommon character and position, and had means of daily communication with Sir Roger Tichborne before he went abroad. After the return of the plaintiff to England, Mr. Hopkins invited him to dine with him on the 2nd of February, 1867, and this is what he says in his deposition: "in a conversation of two or three hours which I had with the plaintiff on that occasion, the plaintiff evinced an intimate acquaintance with the state of the gardens about Tichborne House before the alterations made since 1853; a knowledge of the name of a particular cottage at Tichbome, and its inmates; of his uncles and their wives and families, and various particulars relating to them ; a perfect recollection of his being in my h use in 1816, and of interviews with me when he was my client in 1810, 1850, 1851, 1852, and 1853. These and other facts which transpired in conversation satisfied me that he was, in fact, my old client, Sir Robert Roger Charles Tichborne, the eldest son of Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne." It must be remembered that in making this statement Mr. Hopkins was dealing acainst the interests that would be most profitable to him, and in favour of a person who was denounced as an imposter and liar; and yet, coming to the conclusion in the same mode as you yourselves will strive to come to a conclusion, and upon facts which he could not have learned from any man, he became certain that my client is, in truth, Sir Roger Tichborne. Most loyally did he do bis duty to Sir Roger Tichborne; and I believe he had been placed in the box opposite you, and his statement had undergone the strictest examination, that the conclusion to which he had come, with his character, his knowledge, and his experience, must have operated on your minds as a most important point in these proceedings.

A Juror: What was his age when lie died?

Mr. Sergeant Baliantiue: Sixty-five. He had retired from business, and was a man of independent means, and died in 1870. The other side had full opportunity to cross-examine him between that period and 1867, but they never ventured to ask him one single question.

With regard to Moore, I should have mentioned that he set up a shop at Santiago, and that one day when he was seated at his door he saw his old master pass by in a state of abominable dirt, with his clothes almost entirely destroyed. He spoke to Sir lioger, and asked, " What has become of your things?" and he replied that he had left them, that he had come off without any change of clothes. It was certainly not want of means that rendered it necessary for him to appear in tliis deplorable state in Santiago.

I come now to that part of the story that is disputed. The other side say that it is a fabrication from beginning to end. They say that Sir Roger Tichborne was drowned; that no portion of the crew of the Bella was saved; and that the story which he tells is an entire fabrication, and one that no reasonable man can entertain or grasp. However improbable is the story which I am now about to commence, I must again ask you to read the whole testimony before you come to the conclusion that the story is untrue. Here I feel it right to say that much of the colouring that has been put upon this case has been done by interested agents. They have been utterly unscrupulous in the mode of proceeding, and I believe that much of the evidence that has been gained in Melbourne has been fabricated in the most daring manner, and that efforts of a most systematic character have been made to suppress the truth and invent and manufacture falsehoods. The statement of Sir Roger is that two boats left the .ship, ami it has been ascertained that one of them, the longboat, was ultimately found with its keel uppermost. With regard to the other boat, I believe I am right in .saying that no trace has been found. Into it Sir Roger went with some of the crew. Under circumstances of great privation and suffering, and in a state of mind that may be called negative, he remained for some three days in the boat, at the end of which period he was pick d up by an American vessel. He remained on board some three months, and was then landed at Melbourne. During the time he was on board his mind remained in a most dreamy state, and lie was treated as a person who had suffered privations and hardships which had substantially weakened his brain. Ho landed in Melbourne in the month of duly, 1854.

A Juror: Does he know how long he was in the boat?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: He was in the small boat three days and two nights. The state of the colony at the time he arrived at Melbourne was somewhat remarkable. It was at the time when the furore commenced about the gold diggings, and it was exceedingly difficult to keep the crews of vessels together, or to get hands to man those that were homeward bound. Hence we have lost much of that evidence which we might have obtained in support of our case. And now occurs another extraordinary feature in this really most extraordinary case. With respect to the story which he tells, I must say that I have a very great opinion, and attach to it enormous importance, because I do not believe that any man could succeed in this court, with the course of examination that he would have to undergo, in making you believe that which was not the fact. Sir Roger Tichborne will, be tested by an ordeal which no impostor could undergo—viz., examination by some of the ablest of the English Bar. Sir Roger Ticliborne knows the punishment of detection in falsehood. He has no fear and no alarm; he has perfect self-confidence, and knows right well the ordeal he has to go through. If a fraudulent pretender, I cannot, even as his advocate, but hope that the fraud maybe exposed, but I have the greatest confidence in his case. Well, I must take your attention now to what occurred at Melbourne. Sir Roger appears to have joined company with a Mr. Foster, who lived in the country at a place called Gippsland, and he proceeded to Boisdale Station, where he took charge of a number of horses, and rode them with considerable skill. In fact, as Mr. Foster soon discovered, he was a perfect master of horsemanship, and when I come to tell you of the nature of the issue you will have to try it will be important that you should remember this fact. When in England he was fond of horses, and rode with extraordinary skill—a fact which will be confirmed by a great number of witnesses, supported by written testimony taken by commission abroad. Mr. Foster was the eon of the Attorney-General in Australia—at all events he was a gentleman of some position—and he became pleased with the company of Sir Roger, and procured for him plenty of amusement, and for some time accompanied him in his wild sports and adventures.

Sir Roger afterwards proceeded to Dargo, and there accepted some kind of menial employment. Re very stupidly changed his name, and called himself Thomas Castro, in remembrance of a friend who kept a store at Melipilla. The evidence with respect to this circumstance you will have to consider with a great deal of minuteness. It is extremely complicated, so far as the name is concerned, and you will have to follow it with a great amount of caution and care. When at Dargo he met with a person who now comes upon the scene, but who really ought to have been introduced at the commencement of this most curious drama, of the name of Arthur Orton. I may at once tell you that my learned friends on the other side say that Sir Roger was never at Melbourne— that, in fact, he is not himself at all, but that he is in reality the man whose name I have just mentioned, namely, Arthur Orton. I will now endeavour to give you a sketch of the history of this man, Arthur Orton. Beyond all question, he is the son of a butcher at Wappiug, and his early career was passed amongst the carcasses of sheep and oxen, and the slaughter of them. As far as we can learn of him, he was not a person to associate much with his fellow-creatures; at all events, he did not seek the society of persons from whom he might have obtained a certain amount of nobility, but he was a butcher, of the butcher type—the butcher type of Wapping. At that time he was not an ambitious personage, whatever he might have been since, in consequence of his travels; but it is true that he embarked as a common sailor, and worked his passage to Valparaiso; and of so much of his career, then, we are left in no doubt whatever. Well, it is alleged that at Valparaiso he deserted from his vessel, and made his w ay to Melipilla, and my learned friend will have you believe that this is the man, and not Sir Roger Tichborne, who was there, and that all the knowledge which the runaway sailor boy obtained about Melipilla was what he derived when he was staying there. Arthur Orton, then, is supposed to be the principal actor in this very extraordinary drama. They allege that all that Sir Roger ventures to say is false, that the real Sir Roger has become food for the fishes, and that he—Arthur Orton—has taken upon him the form and the likeness of Sir Roger, for the purpose of obtaining the baronetcy of the ancient Tichborne family.

I think I may now ask his lordship to permit me to conclude my observations for the day, reserving to myself the right of continuing my statement in the morning; but before I sit down I must observe that in this case is presented not merely a question of identity, but one of personation; and, if I am right in assuming that the course of the defence will be such as I have stated—namely, that the gentleman for whom I appear is Arthur Orton, the butcher, and not Sir Roger Tichborne—I think you will agree with me that there are many matters of great improbability to be decided. You will observe that Arthur Orton is a man who never saw Sir Roger Tichborne in his life. He knew nothing of him or of his habits, or of the manners or customs of the persons with whom he associated. He could not have known that Sir Roger was brought up in France, or that he—the Wapping butcher—would be obliged to put on the form and use the language of a person who had lived in that country if he wished to succeed in the fraud. Something indeed may be said about Sir Roger's forgetfulness of the French language, but that is not more extraordinary than the notion that Arthur Orton, the butcher, is the man who alleges himself to be the heir to the Tichborne estates. All these things you will have to take into your consideration. I must ask whether you believe such a substitution could ever have been contemplated by a Wapping butcher? I believe you will reject the story as incredible, and that you will see when you come to consider it in all its bearings that it is much more favourable to my case than against it.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

THIRD DAY.—FRIDAY, MAY 10.

SECOND DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Common Pleas, Westminster.

Mr. SERJEANT BALLANTINE resumed his opening address to the jury. After expressing his satisfaction that he had on the previous day been able to lay before them the substantial features of the case supported by the plaintiff, and also of the case shadowed forth by the defendant, he said: I will now proceed with the narrative of subsequent events, and I am afraid that I shall have still to occupy some considerable portion of your time; but I am sure you will not grudge any time spent in this inquiry, which every one must admit to be one of the most important ever raised in a court of justice. Yesterday I brought the claimant to a place called Dargo, in Australia, where he first met the person who will form so prominent a character in this inquiry, named Arthur Orton. Inasmuch as Sir Roger Tichborne will have to explain himself, in great detail, the different localities which he visited, and the different employments in which he was engaged—many of which were quite unfit for a gentleman in his position—I will not go into these matters at great length, and will pass over the period which he spent in Australia with as few remarks as possible. It appears that from Dargo he went, in 1861, to Wagga Wagga, where he remained some time, and that to a considerable extent he associated with Arthur Orton. This person had arrived in Australia somewhat before the time that Sir Roger Tichborne himself landed there. There is no doubt that those two persons were thrown together at different times, and that, supposing I am right in assuming that they are two persons, and not one, Orton turned up at different places where fcir Roger was. During the whole of this investigation you will have to apply your minds to the question whether they were two individuals—whether the person going by the name of Tom Castro had been Arthur Orton, or whether in reality Tom Castro was Roger Tichborne. There is no doubt, if the claimant's story be a true one, that he did associate with Orton to a great extent, and that the latter had become a tolerable good horseman. They remained some time at Wagga Wagga, and afterwards visited other parts of the country.

I will now bring you to the year 1865, when the plaintiff married the lady who is his present wife. He had one female child by her shortly after his marriage, and since that time there have been three other children, of whom two are boys, so that there can be no doubt that the question of the baronetcy and the estates is very important not only to Sir Roger, who may not live to the period when this case is ultimately settled, but to the younger persons who have a chance of seeing the end of the proceedings. (A laugh.)

I have now to refer to a lady who will be a very prominent person in this case, the mother of Sir Roger Tichborne; and it is very important to call your attention to tho character and position of that lady. She married early; she was extremely beautiful at the time she married; she was a woman of strong good sense and strong mind; and, if my learned friend tests this matter by the exhibition of any letters, it will be seen that she was a woman perfectly capable of forming a sound and correct judgment—a woman of the world— a woman of somewhat warm and enthusiastic feelings, but still not feelings which would permit her better sense and judgment to be operated upon by a fraud such as is charged agaiust the plaintiff in this case. Lady Tichborne, from the time she heard of the loss of the Bella, thought that her son might be saved. That might be one of those superstitious impressions which are liable to enter into the minds of people; and I would never ask a jury to attach any weight to it, unless it was founded upon some circumstances that would give effect to it. Although she died some time ago, we are able to produce her evidence as it was given in the Court of Chancery. Although the other side pretend to believe that this is a false claim, they never ventured to cross-examine her on the subject, and never asked her a single question to test the accuracy of her statement. I can remember the poor lady's face at this moment. It has been present to my mind more or less ever sinceI remember the lines of that face, ai d the deep anxiety that was portrayed upon it. Day afier day, watching the interests of her son, she sat at the Law Institute challenging inquiry, listening to the evidence, and ready to put forth the reasons on which she had no doubt about the identity of her boy; and yet they never asked her a single question. Under the persecutions, the miseries, and torments which she had stiff red she at last sank, and is now unable to give the evidence which would have convinced every one who heard it. She herself alleged that she had seen a sailor who had come from Australia. With a mother's anxiety preying upon her mind, she had asked some questions as to whether he had ever heard anything about the crew of the Bella. This sailor thought that when he was in Melbourne he had heard that some of the prew had been saved. He heard that a vessel had been lost at sea; he did not remember the name; but he believed that the vessel was a vessel called the Bella, and that the report was that some of the crew had been saved and had gone up the country. In consequence of that Lady Tichbome inserted advertisements in 1863 in papers in England, in the Australian colonies, and in every place where a likelihood existed of his being found.

I now come to 1865. Sir Roger Tichborne seems to have been residing at Wagga Wagga, and Orton was also in that neighbourhood. He had been knocking about the country and had been pursuing different professions, the result of which was that he was in some pecuniary difficulty. He met an attorney of the name of Gibbs, who was practising at Wagga Wagga. I am not able to give a very favourable description of Mr. Gibbs. He appears to have spent the frequent intervals in which he had nothing to do in making himself considerably drunk. Gibbs had seen the advertisements in the paper. A good deal of mystery surrounded the man who was then called Castro; reports wers circulated that he was somebody else, and Gibbs fastened upon the idea that be must be the person referred to in the advertisement, and, having fastened upon the idea, he spoke to him several times on the subject of Sir Roger Tichborne. Sir Roger declined to make any communication to him—he was annoyed and offended at the questions—and then referred to the point on which he had asked Mr. Gibbs to give him assistance. Mr. Gibbs advised him to become insolvent, and then Sir Roger made particular inquiries as to the effect insolvency would have supposing he had any fortune elsewhere. The ultimate result was that Sir Roger Tichborne determined to enforce his claim. The difficulty was to obtain money. A great many people believed in his identity, but they were unwilling to part with their money. Mr. Gibbs proposed that he should make a will, and that if he would make a will leaving matters according to the disposition of Mr. Gibbs, he (Gibbs) would endeavour to raise such an amount of money as would enable him to substantiate the claim. lie instructed Gibbs to make a will, and gave him no account of the estates which he possessed, and, supposing the will was intended to have any effect, exhibited a total ignorance of the property of which he was possessor. I think it right to refer to this, because I have not concealed the difficulties which lie before me, and the mode in which I propose to meet them.

When the claim, as I have said, was first set up, Sir Roger wrote a letter to his mother, to which I must call your particular attention. In the first place it will indicate that however perfect or imperfect his education may have been, that education had been entirely forgotten, and that he had relapsed into a state of comparative ignorance at the time the letter was written. It will be relied upon, no doubt, that he never could have been a person ol' education, and that this was shown by the mode in which he expresses himself his spelling, and other matters connected with this and the other letters which he has written. The letter to which I allude exhibits, I do not deny, a want of education, and I must leave it to your calm and impartial judgement to say how far it tells against Sir Roger. The letter is dated from WaggaWagga, Jan. 17, 1866, and is as follows:—

Wagga Wagga, Jan. 17th, '66.

My dear Mother,—The delay which has taken place since my last letter, dated 22nd April, '54, Makes it very difficult to Commence this Letter. I deeply regret the truble and anxiety I must have cause you by not writing before. But they are known to my attorney, and the more private details I will keep for your own Far. Of one thing rest Assured that although I have been in A bumble condition of Life I have never let any act disgrace you or my family I have been a poor man and nothing worse. Mr. Gibbs suggest to me as essential That I shd recall to your Memory things which can only be known to you and me to convince you of my Identity. I dont think it needful my dear Mother although I send them Namely the Brown Mark on my side And the Card Case at Brighton. I can assure you My dear Mother I have keep your promise ever since: In writing to me please enclose your letter to Mr. Gibbes to prevent unnecessary enquiry as I do not wish any person to know me in this Country When I take my proper position and title. Haying therefore made up my mind to re urn and face the sea once more I must request to send me the means of doing so and paying a few outstanding debts. I would return by the overland Mail. The passage Money and other expenses would bo over Two Hundred pound, for I propose sailing from Victoria, not this Colonly, and to sail from Melbourne in my own Name, Now to annable me to do this my dear Mother you must send me —

One half sheet of this letter is missing, but I am told that its absence will be fully explained hereafter. With regard to the mark alluded to, there is no doubt that it does exist upon the person of Sir Roger, and the allusion to the card case is in connection with a circumstance that occurred in Brighton when he was young, and when he was plundered at cards; and it was for the purpose of assuring his mother that he would never enter into any gambling transactions again that those words were written. I do not propose to call your attention now to any other portion of the correspondence between the parties; but there is one letter, dated from Sydney, July 24, 1866, to which I must briefly refer. Sir Roger writes again to his mother as follows:—

Sydney, July 24, 66.

My dear Mama,—I received your letter yesterday morning, And was somewhat disapointed that you do not Acknowledge me has your son. Surely my dear Mama you must know my writing; you have cause me a deal of truble. But it matters Has I have no wish to leave a country were I enjoy such good health; I have grown very stout. Yesterday one of Uncle Edward's Old servants call on me; he been living here a long while, he is name Guilfovle; you must remember him He was remodeling the Garden at Tichborne when I was staying at Uncle

He knew me has soon has be see me; His Wife was with him; she look very young yet And yet she has eleven children. You spoke of Bogle in your letter to Cubbit. I have made enquiries, but can not find him; Mr. Turvel is here with Sir John Young.

I have seen him and had A long conversation with him; I heard that the Revd. Father Phillip was out here but I cannot find him. My Dear Mama, the post closes in ten minets more for France, so I will say good bye in case I am too late. If to late i will send this to England, has the English Mail does not close for two hours after the Mail for France. I have enclose a photograph of myself, that you may see how greatly I have emprove. Hoping my dear Mama to see alive once more; But I am afraid not, Has I can not get surfience Money, and may the Blessed Maria have mercy on Your soul.—I remain your affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Metropolitan Hotel, Pitt Street, Sydney.—To Lady Tichborne, 40, Rue Neuve les Mathurms.

Turvill was a gentleman whom he had known at Valparaiso, and he undoubtedly acknowledged Sir Roger at the time. Sir Roger appears to have gone from Wagga Wagga to Sydney, where he met Guilfoyle, who had been a gardener to his uncle Edward, and who appears to have emigrated in company with his wife. They both met Sir Roger at Sydney, and they recognised him without doubt. Guilfoyle treated him with the greatest amount of consideration and attention, and in all respects behaved as if lie did not entertain a shadow of doubt that he was the young gentleman whom he had known visiting at his uncle's.

But now came another most extraordinary circumstance in the case. It appeared that Edward Tichborne—afterwards Sir Edward Doughty—proceeded to Jamaica upon different matters of business at an early period of his life, and there picked up a young lad named Bogle, whom he took as his body servant. This person he brought to England as a confidential servant, and he maintained him for upwards of 44 years. During the whole of that time Sir Edward considered him most invaluable, and treated him with the utmost confidence; indeed, such was the character of this man, and the credit he obtained in the family, including th still living widow of Sir Edward Doughty, that, when his service was completed, he had an annuity granted to him of £50, with which annuity he emigrated to Australia. When in that colony, he met with the present claimant, and the only question upon which my learned friends can support their case is that this man Bogle is an impostor, and has conspired with Roger Tichborne to defraud a person who is the rightful heir, and to put forth a person whom he never knew in his life in connection with the Tichborne family. For the purpose of supporting justice in this cause, I shall produce Bogle. He is a coloured man, and has lived for some time in Australia. I believe he is now in extremely failing health, and it is said that he will never live to enter the witnessbox; but I shall produce him, and if he is a liar and the impostor which they say he is, I cannot doubt that he will be found out; but if he tells a story that brings conviction to your mind, as it, does to mine, it is perfectly impossible that you can doubt that Sir Roger is the rightful heir. The proposition on the other side is that Sir Roger, or rather this adventurer, picked up the old servant of Sir Edward Doughty at Melbourne, and that the two together have concocted this scheme; that he obtained from Bogle all his knowledge of what had occurred in England before Sir Roger left for Valparaiso; that, in point of fact, Bogle was the keystone of all his knowledge, and that it was in consequence of their combination that he has been enabled to make the appearance he has. I cannot help thinking there is a great deal that makes such a proposition futile. I admit that Bogle knew thoroughly the circumstances of the property, and that if he chose to give information, it might have produced some effect upon any of his companions; but there is no evidence whatever to support any proposition of the kind. I may say, in order to indicate the mode in which this case has been dealt with, that when it was found out that Bogle was a person who was supporting the claim—because he came over to this country— the family denied his identity as much as they did that of Sir Roger. But when it was found that his identity could be no longer doubted, then they stopped his annuity, and rendered him penniless. If the man is an impostor, then he has suffered for it, for he has lost everything he had in the world. He has sacrificed his name and reputation and the comforts of his remaining days for a worthless individual, whom he never knew or heard of till he met him at Sydney or elsewhere. It is undoubted that at Sydney Bogle recognised Sir Roger—I am telling you the story told by the claimant himself—that Guilfoyle saw Bogle there, and now he (Bogle) will swear that beyond all question the man whom he met at that time was Sir Roger Tichborne, the heir.

I will now proceed to call your attention to events succeeding these matters. My client went first to America, and arrived in this country in company with Bogle on the 25th December, 1866. Upon his arrival in London he went to the hotel that used to be used by his father in England—Ford's Hotel, Manchester-street. On the 28th December he went to Alresford, where Tichborne House is situated, and he examined into the state of the property, aud felt considerable annoyance at the condition in which he found it. He then went to Gravesend, and was introduced to a solicitor of the name of Holmes; and afterwards, in company with Mr. Holmes and another gentleman he went to Paris, where his mother was staying. Upon his arrival at Paris he was extremely ill, and his mother was so anxious to see him that she came at once to the hotel where he was living. It is better that I should give you the account of that interview in her own words, which will probably impress your minds more strongly than any words of mine. The learned counsel having read several extracts from Lady Tichborne's affidavit, proceeded: It is a somewhat strange thing to doubt the evidence of a mother upon such a subject as this. I have conceded the improbability of many of the circumstances of the plaintiff's case, but I ask you whether there is a graver improbability connected with the present case than the notion suggested on the other side, that Lady Tichborne was mistaken on the subject of her son. I don't talk about the voice of nature. The term is vague, and the idea indefinite. I don't say that a mother would know a child by instinct, from whom she had been parted since infancy, but I do say that it is an unexampled thing in the anuals of the history of mankind that a mother who had constantly associated with her child up to the age of 14, and had seen him from time to time up to the age of 22 or 33—I do say that it is unparalleled—but it is incredible to suppose that that mother should be deceived in her relations with that child. If an issue is raised as to her perfect competency to form a judgment upon that or any other point, I can place before you such a mass of letters passing between her and other people up to the time of her death that they will bring to your mind a conviction that she was in possession of all her faculties and understanding, and that there is no pretence for saying that there was anything to invalidate the opinion which she formed and expressed. There is no doubt that opinion was severely tried. I have letters before me which show what means were taken to impress her mind that she was mistaken. You know that she was an extremely devoted Catholic, and the letters from a great variety of persons were calculated to have a great effect upon her mind. The conviction that she has expressed in this affidavit she entertained to the day of her death. She passed out of the world in the thorough belief that she left her son behind her, and with the earnest prayer that, through the instrumentality of the courts of justice and under Providence, his rights might be maintained and his title supported.

The claim was announced within a few days after the recognition by the mother. There were two ways of meeting it, and the one which would commend itself to your minds and feelings would be this. The defendants might have said, " It is hard and cruel that we should be dispossessed of the property which we believed to be our own; but still, if the plaintiff be the man he represents himself to be, we cannot resist his rights; and if upon a proper investigation he turns out to be really the heir to the property we must submit." That, however, is not the way in which the claim has been met. It was met in the way in which the defence has been carried on throughout. Upon the claim being made known, the following letter was received from Dobinson and Gcare, attorneys, addressed to Mr. Holmes, dated the 25th January, 1867:—

Sir,—Our instructions are to deny emphatically that your client is the person he represents himself to be, and to leave him to adopt such measures as he thinks proper.

It was after his mother had written to the Hon. Teresa Tichborne, the mother of the boy Henry Alfred Joseph, the other claimant to the estates, that she had no doubt that he was her child. Without knowing any of the grounds on which the claim was supported—without knowing anything of the circumstances which have since been brought to light, they simply denied that he was the man, and opposed everything that he did for the purpose of supporting his claim. This matter went into Chancery, chiefly, I believe, for the purpose of cross-examining Sir Roger Tichborne. He was cross-examined by the other side, and they presented Mr. Gosford for cross-examination by us.

Long before this time inquiries had been made, and emissaries had been sent to Australia and America, and it was then for the first time mentioned that the plaintiff had been for three weeks at Melipilla. They had also discovered what the police-court reports called an active and intelligent officer. The plaintiff has been haunted by a detective wherever he has gone, and even the members of his family with whom he was living when they walked out saw a gentleman who appeared to have no particular object at a certain distance behind them. A good deal has depended upon the intelligence and activity of these gentlemen. I believe that the story of Arthur Orton has emanated from the brain of one of them, and I think we shall yet learn how it has been concocted. I am not fond of people of this description: they are totally irresponsible; they belong to no known body; they are not called upon to account for their conduct; they don't belong to the recognised police — they are amateurs, and many of them superannuated officers who gain an honest livelihood by private inquiries. Without imputing to the honourable body that they invent evidence, I may say that there is such a thing as torturing evidence so as to make it look uncommonly different from what it is. Commissions were issued both to Australia and Melipilla. I may say that from that you cannot doubt that Sir Roger Tichborne has been largely supported, and that a large number of persons implicitly believe in his story, and have been ready to help him in money as well as in countenance. Sir Roger Tichborne started with the South American commission; but after they reached Rio it became a question whether they should cross the Cordilleras or go round by Cape Horn. Sir Roger had naturally a strong objection t o a sea voyage, and while the other members, afraid to undertake the risks of crossing the Cordilleras, went by the sea. Sir Roger started by that route, and bad reached Cadova, a place on the frontier of the mountains. There he became extremely ill, and, m consequence, he was obliged to return to England without making his way across the Cordilleras. As a singular episode of this extraordinary case, I may mention that the diligence in which he had taken his place was stopped in the Cordilleras, and every person in it murdered. The other members of the commission arrived at Valparaiso. At this time the portion of the commission representing the other side had not yet arrived, and they had consequently to wait there some days. In the meantime the other portion of the commission reached Valparaiso, and started for Melipilla. They were immediately followed, at a hard gallop, by Mr. Stevens and the other members of the commission representing the cause of Sir Roger Tichborne. When he reached the place where the commission was staying he heard, on the other side of the building, a voice which he knew perfectly well to be that of an important person in the inquiry. There was only a canvas screen between them, and he heard the voice distinctly say, " That person who wants to impose on us as Sir Roger Tichborne is nothing but an impostor; he is, in point of fact, a certain Arthur Orton, who is nothing but a butcher and adventurer and impostor." How far language of this kind would operate upon these people, and how far you are to attach value to these American witnesses when they were introduced to their evidence by this kind of salute, I leave you to judge.

I will now read to you Sir Roger's letter to Don Castro at Melipilla. It is as follows:—

25, Poultry, London, Aug. 28, 1867.

Sor. Du Thomas Castro:

Dear Sir and esteemed friend,—I presume I am about the last person in this world from whom you would expect to receive a letter. But, dear friend, you know full well that in this world we never can tell what we may one day have to do. What I have now to say is that I have just returned to England, that is in December last; and for the space of many years, and through neglect, I failed to write to my friends. I have got very fat, almost as fat as Don Ramon Osoga. On arriving in England I found that my property was, as it still remains, in the hands of my relations, who dispute my identity, and therefore my right to the same. It is a great happiness and good fortune for me that my mother still lives, and I have besides a great many friends who, like herself, do on their side everything they can to assist me. But in spite of this, all those magnificent lands, of which I used to talk to you, are out of my possession until I can prove I am the same person I was 13 years ago.

Be good enough to present my remembrances to Don Juan Halley, the English doctor, to Dona Clara and her sister Jerusa, and my respects to Dona Natalia Salmento, or as I used to teach you that I called her Misses Castro. Please also remember me to Don Ramon Alcade, Dona Hurtardo, and my old godfather as I used to call him; to the Senorita Matilde, and also to Don José Maria Vereuguel, and his brother José Miguel. Will you kindly, my old and dear friend, show them this letter, and pray them all to write to me here; and if it is not too much trouble to do so, likewise to my solicitor, Mr. John Holmes, 25, Poultry, London? It is very had for me, my dear friend, to see myself deprived of in this manner of property which belongs to me; and, therefore, I beg you most earnestly to lend me your assistance, in so far as is in your power. I was entirely forgetting a very old friend of mine, I mean Mr. Taro Don José, the husband of your sister-in-law at Concumen.

I have another strange thing to tell you, and I do not doubt but that you will think I took a very great liberty, and that is that I assumed and made use of your Christian and surname, and that during the 13 years I was in Australia I was only known as Thomas Castro. I likewise gave out that I was a Chilian, but they could easily see that this was not the fact. I can, however, assure you, my dear friend, that I never dishonoured your name, or even your prowess on horseback, during the time I was there.

I trust, my very dear friend, that you will be good enough to furnish my agent when he calls upon you with all data and information you can remember and collect, and will not forget to send me a few lines by the return mail. I would likewise beg you, if possible, to be so kind as to see Don Carlos Anselmo, of Valparaiso, as soon as possible; he will explain to you anything you cannot understand.

Trusting that yourself, your lady, and family are all in good health,—I remain, yours very faithfully,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

The word " companion" is translated into the word " compadre," which at Melipilla means godfather, and you will hear a story to meet this supposed meaning that the boy Arthur Orton while there had wished to be baptized, and bad called some persons there his godfathers. It is an unlikely story, as I believe Orton was a Protestant and not likely to wish to be baptized a Roman Catholic. If I have had the good fortune to clearly explain this remarkable case, you will understand why I particularly direct your attention to this point whether there were two persons, Orton and Sir Roger Tichborne, or only Orton.

I must now refer to the evidence of the Australian commission. One witness was called by the defendants, and the object of his evidence was to show that there was no such person as Castro. It refers to a date—1857—which is of the greatest importance, and at which no claim could have been suggested by any advertisement issued in 1863. The witness was Norman Nicholson, of Spring Hill, near Sale. He was at Dargo, and he stated that a person named Orton, who was commonly called " the butcher," was at the station, and left in September, 1857. He had no recollection of anyone of the name of Castro. In cross-examination, he said that Orton told him that he went from England to South America, and that his father was a rich nobleman, and that he would be heir to a great estate. He also talked about his uncles, about hunting, and dogs. He also said he was wrecked, and picked up by a ship, and brought to Melbourne. He also said that he would never go back to England in his father's lifetime, and that he had been a cavalry officer in Ireland. Now, what is the conclusion to which the statement brought out in cross-examination leads? It is, that a person went out to South America, that a ship was wrecked, and that a person was saved. Now, could such a history in 1857 as that given by this person have been given by Arthur Orton? Is that within the point of possibility, or can it be suggested by human ingenuity? The next affidavit is one of Andrew Hutton, who says that " he was a labourer, and resided at Boisdale for some time, and was in the employ of Mr. Foster. He knew Arthur Orton, who told him he had been employed as a butcher in Hobart Town, and that his father lived in London. Arthur Orton was not pitted with the small-pox. There was no man of that description on the Boisdale station,but there might have been a man of the name of Thomas Castro, though he could not remember." In cross-examination this witness said " that Arthur Orton was called the ' big butcher' and the ' big Arthur.' Foster had in his employ a slimmer man than Orton. The photograph was more like Orton. The other man was something like the photograph. He came up the country with Foster, Teddy Mole, and the sailor—he thought his name was Tom. Tom was shorter than Arthur, and was good in horsemanship." This goes far, I think, to support the fact that there was a person who went by the name of Tom, although the name of Castro was not actually mentioned, and it supports the testimony given by Sir Roger that he was at the Boisdale station, and that he left at or after the time when Orton went there. The only other evidence taken by commission to which I shall call your attention is that of a man named Kemis, who was examined on behalf of Sir Roger, but who is now at the police barracks, Richmond—but it is only for bigamy, my lord. (Laughter.) This man stated that he lived at Strathfeldsaye, some thirty miles from Boisdale station, in 1854, and that a photograph shown him was the likeness of a man whom he had seen at the latter place. " That man," he says, " had no peculiarity of accent, and he should not take him for either a Spaniard or a Mexican; his name was Tom Castro; he was thoroughly conversant with horses, and was a good rider; he was a bigframed man, with brown hair, and whiskers somewhat lighter in colour. There was a sort of nervous twitching in his face when he spoke; his left leg was bowed outwards; and when he walked one of his legs had the appearance of being a little shorter than the other." These, gentlemen, are all the witnesses to which I shall now call your attention. Their evidence shows that Orton and Castro were separate persons; and, if you are satisfied that the account of the shipwreck, and of his being in the cavalry regiment in Ireland, were given by the latter, I must ask you to express your belief that Castro, and not Orton, is the man.

I now come to the remaining branch of this case; and in doing so I must bid adieu to those persons whose evidence may, by some possibility or other, be contradicted; but I think there will be no question as to the truth or falsehood of the witnesses I am about to name. The outside that may be said of them will be that they may be mistaken; but with regard to their honour, their integrity, and their truthfulness. I am sure that upon them no imputation can or will be cast. In the county in which the Tichborne estates are situated there are many landed gentry—men of education and of high standing; and it cannot be imagined that a strong feeling would exist amongst them as to Sir Roger being the rightful heir unless there were the very gravest reasons for their coming to that conclusion. Those gentlemen had not only their own honour at stake, but they must feel the great weight of responsibility that would attach to them if they assisted to lift into place and station a man who had no right to fill it. I cannot suppose that men could join in one feeling of belief unless there were circumstances so strong and so pregnant with facts as would lead them to imagine they could not, by any possibility, be mistaken. From the beginning of this cause Sir Roger has exposed himself to the minutest inquiry—in fact, he challenges the strictest investigation; and, in order that I may support his testimony, I shall call before you a number of gentlemen who know him well—gentlemen of character and position—who will tell you that they have no more doubt of his being Roger Tichborne than they have of their own individual existence. They have arrived at that conclusion, I may say, not from mere appearance, but by testing him with questions put in every imaginary way. Well, then, I will briefly call attention to the evidence of two or three of these gentlemen; and it is not necessary, I think, that I should at this stage of the case do more. Probably you will imagine that the persons whose evidence will be most important are those who know him best, gentlemen of position and character in the neighbourhood. AVell, I have mentioned the name of Mr. Hopkins, and there is a gentleman of the name of Scott, the possessor of landed property and a man of high position in the county, and he entertains no doubt whatever on the subject. He fully believes the claimant to be Sir Roger Tichborne, and he is prepared to make oath upon it. Then there is Mr. Bulpit, the banker of the family, who at once gave Sir Roger a credit at his bank for £500, so convinced was he as to his identity. He has, in fact, no earthly doubt upon the subject, and it is most impossible, I may say, that he can be mistaken. Besides these gentlemen, there is a Mr. Coles, the house steward at Tichborne, who has every opportunity of investigation, and he will tell you exactly the same thing. Further, I shall call before you Mr. Lipscombe, the family doctor, who recognised Sir Roger at once. Then there are Major Norbury and a nqmber of officers who were in the Carabineers, and a tradesman named Greenwood, who was a regimental tailor at the time Sir Roger was in the army—and they all entertain not the slighest doubt that my client is the rightful heir. Besides all these, there are other persons who will unhesitatingly speak to his identity. A lady, who was for some time governess to Miss Kate Doughty, has given a positive opinion, and there are others who will point out marks of identity.

But, gentlemen, I do not think I need weary you any further with assertions of this kind, and I will now conclude my remarks hy expressing a hope that I have performed this the first part of my duty fairly and impartially; that I have placed matters before you in such a manner as that you may be able to take a comprehensive view of the facts as the case proceeds. Gentlemen, I am not the maker of long perorations, and with these few simple observations I must leave the case in your hands, confident that you will judge of the evidence candidly and impartially, and that you will come to what in your consciences you believe to be a right and just conclusion of the case.

At the conclusion of the learned counsel's speech, which had been listened to with breathless interest by all in court, the Chief-Justice expressed his intention of taking tho printed transcript of the notes of the shorthand writers taken each day as the evidence given on the trial, if no objection were offered by counsel.

The Solicitor-General said it was a matter entirely within the discretion of his lordship.

The Chief-Justice: We shall be able to get along more rapidly than if I were to take notes in a lengthy case of this kind. Shorthand writers are generally very rapid penmen.

Mr. Hawkins: Yes, my lord; they are for the most part very fast gentlemen. (Laughter.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that, so far as he was concerned, he had no objection to that course being pursued.

The Chief-Justice; Very well, then; I will merely take a brief note as the case proceeds.

Mr. John. Francis Adams, a commissioner appointed to administer oaths in Chancery, identified the signatures to affidavits of the following deceased persons: Mr. E. Hopkins, Mrs. E. Hopwood, Mr. Long, Mr. J. Waddington, and Mr. W. O'Ryan.

The Solicitor-General asked that he might reserve the cross-examination of this and similar witnesses until after he had heard the claimant.

Witness: May I go, then, for three or four days?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Yes, if you like; until you may have notice to re-appear. (A laugh.)

Mr. Edward Oram, clerk in the Writ and Record Office, identified the signature of Mr. Bedwell, a commissioner to administer oaths.

Mr. J. Stephens, managing clerk to Mr. Holmes, solicitor, stated that he saw Lady Tichborne sign the affidavit produced.

Mr. Giffard: My learned friend will give me no trouble under the circumstances of proving the demise of Lady Tichborne. It is admitted that she is dead. Ihe affidavit is dated 12th March, 1868.

The Solicitor-General urged that the affidavit could not be evidence unless the bill and answer in Chancery were put in.

Mr. Giffard: Both are here.

The Solicitor-General: Very well; then I contend that the affidavit is not admissible. Her ladyship was not cross-examined. It does not follow that because she is dead it can be received as evidence. It must be shown that the matters at issue and the parties are the same now as they were in Chancery.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said the question might be raised when the bill and answer were put in. (Documents handed in.) It appeared to him that the parties in the suit in Chancery were exactly the same as now. The bill embraced all the defendants. The whole point raised by the answer was that which the jury were now called upon to try.

The Solicitor-General contended that the parties to the suit were not the same as in the Chancery proceedings, and denied that the points in dispute were the same.

The Chief-Justice overruled the objection. The prayer of the bill was to ascertain whether the plaintiff was the baronet or not, which was the same issue. It was suggested that the affidavit was made on a motion, which was a different matter to an ffidavit made on a bill and answer.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said there was no evidence of any motion.

The Solicitor-General said in the suit there was a motion in which the affidavit was made on a motion for an injunction for a receiver.

The Chief-Justice decided that the evidence must be received.

At this point in the case,

Colonel M'Call, of Her Majesty's Body Guard, along with another officer of the corps, applied to his Lordship by direction of the Lord Chamberlain as to what was said to be a breach of privilege in the swearing of Captain Aikman, of the Queen's Body Guard, on the jury after he had claimed his privilege of exemption, and submitted that as Captain Aikman had Her Majesty's command to attend upon her at the Palace to-morrow, directing him to be sworn on the jury was overruling Her Majesty's command.

The Chief Justice said he had drawn Captain Aikman's attention to the statute, and desired to know whether he claimed exemption as one of Her Majesty's household servants or as an officer on full pay, and he had not said he fell under either category.

The gentleman with Colonel M'Call said, " We are all household servants, my lord, and all officers, and all on full pay, and we are exempt under all three grounds."

The Chief Justice said the proper course for Colonel M'Call was to take the opinion of Her Majesty's law officers of the Crown upon the matter. Captain Aikman was now sworn on the jury, and Her Majesty's commands were to administer the law; and if by an inadvertence a gentleman was sworn on the jury who claimed to be exempt the matter as to the future had better be submitted to the law officers of the Crown. He might state to him that Her Majesty's Solicitor-General was then present, and he would probably take a note of this application. (A laugh.) Captain Aikman being sworn must now serve on the jury.

Colonel M'Call said it was the first time the privilege had been questioned, and he had been sent for by the Lord Chamberlain and direeted to make this application to his Lordship.

The two gentlemen then withdrew.

The Solicitor-General then said he required the bill and answer to be read before the affidavit was read.

The Chief-Justice said if it was read he must tell the jury, in the words of Taylor on Evidence, that it was not usual to insist upon it, as it looked like an attempt to prejudice the cause, and direct them not to pay attention to the contents. If the Solicitor-General insisted upon it it might he read, but it would be at his client's peril. He had very serious doubts about its admissibility.

The reading of the bill and answer was not further pressed, and the affidavit of Lady Tichborne was put in and read. It was as follows:—

I, Dame Henriette Felicite Tichborne, at present residing at 2, Dorset-street, Manchester-square, in the county of Middlesex, widow, make oath and say as follows:—

1. On the 1st day of August, 1827, 1 intermarried with the late Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne Bart, late of Tichborne. in the county of Southampton, then James Francis Tichborne. Esq now deceased My said marriage was solemnized at St. George's, Hanover-square, and at the Roman Catholic Chapel, Chelsea, both in the county of Middlesex. There was issue of the said marriage four children, and no more, viz.. The above-named plaintiff, our firstborn son. who was born at paris on the 5th day of January, 1829; 2. Mabella Louisa, who was bom on the 8th day of July 1832 (now deceased); 3, Alice Mary Perpetua, who was born on the 14th day of October. 1837 (now deceased); and 4, Alfred Joseph Tichborne, who was born at Paris on the 4th day of September, 1839 (now deceased).

2. Upon the death of the late Sir Edward Doughty my husband became Sir James Francis Tichborne, tenth baronet of Tichbome. and entered into, and thenceforth down to his death continued in the possession or receipt of, the rents and profits of the Doughty estates referred to in the plaintiffs bill filed in this cause, as tenant for life under the limitations created in his favour as in the said bill mentioned.

3. By Royal licence, dated the 26th day of April, 1853, Her Majesty granted unto my husband licence and authority that he and his issue might thenceforth use the name of Doughty in addition to and before that of Tichborne, and that he and they might bear the arms of Doughty quartered with those of Tichborne, and in exercise of the said licence my late husband thenceforth continued down to his death to use the name of Doughty in addition to and before that of Tichborne, and also to use the arms of Doughty.

4. My husband died on the 11th day of June, 1862, leaving the plaintiff, his eldest son and heir-at-law, and the said Alfred Joseph Tichborne, his second son, his only issue, him surviving.

5. Upon the death of my husband, the plaintiff became the eleventh baronet of Tichrone. He attained his age of 21 years on the 5th day of January, 1850.

6. The plaintiffs brother, the said Alfred Joseph Tichborne, being then a bachelor, intermarried on the 17th day of April, 1861, with the above-named defendant, the said Hon. Teresa Mary Josephine Tichborne, daughter of the Right Hon. Henry Benedict, eleventh Lord Arundel of Wardour.

7. The said Alfred Joseph Tichborne died on the 22nd day of February, 1866, having had issue one son born in his lifetime—namely, Edward Francis Tichborne, who died in early infancy, and no other son born in his lifetime; but his wife was enceinte at the time of his decease, and on the 28th day of May, 1866, she gave birth to the above-named defendant, Henry Alfred' Joseph Tichborne.

8. My husband and myself resided for many years before he succeeded to the baronetcy at Paris, and the plaintiff resided with us at Paris, where he was born, from the date of his birth until the year 1845, when he was brought over to this country, and was shortly afterwards placed at Stonyhurst College, Lancashire, where he received his English education.

9. In the month of July, 1849, the plaintiff was appointed cornet, and subsequently lieutenant, in Her Majesty's 6th Dragoon Guards (Carabineers). He joined that regiment in the month of October, 1849, at Dublin, where it was then quartered, and was on duty with the regiment until the month of January, 1853, except during temporary leave of absence. The plaintiff retired from the regiment in the month of February, 1853.

10. During his vacation from college, and while on leave of absence from his regiment, the plaintiff usually resided, from the year 1845 until he left this country to travel in foreign parts, as hereinafter mentioned, with his late uncle, the said Sir Edward Doughty, at Tichborne Park, the family seat of the Tichbomes, and was in the habit of shooting over the Tichborne estates and hunting in that neighbourhood, and gave up much of his time to field sports and the management of horses.

11. The plaintiff frequently expressed a strong desire to travel in foreign parts, and he left his regiment with the object of travelling for some years in distant parts, and in the first instance he determined to proceed to South America.

12. In the month of March, 1853, the plaintiff took passage on hoard a ship bound for Valparaiso, and from letters which I subsequently received from him, I was informed and believe that he arrived there in due course, and from the like source of information I knew that he was engaged in travelling in various parts of South America, and enjoyed the wild sports of the field until about the month of April, 1854.

13. After the death of Sir Edward Doughty, my husband and I took up our residence at Tichborne House, where we continued to live down to the date of his death. During the plaintiff's stay in South America he sent home to Tichborne some birds which I understood ho had killed, and also some pictures, and two pairs of very large and peculiar silver-plated spurs and stirrups.

14. Sometime afterwards, and in the course of the year 1854, intelligence reached Tichborne that the plaintiff had taken passage, in the month of April, 1854, at Rio de Janeiro, on board a ship called the Bella, bound for New York, and that she foundered at sea, and that the owners of the ship and the underwriters at Lloyd's treated her as having been lost, but no tidings reached us as to the fate of her crew except that one boat belonging to the Bella had been met with at sea with no one on board, and it was feared all the crew were drowned.

15. I clung to the belief that my son was saved, and I had a settled presentiment that some day I should see him again. I thought it probable he might have been picked up at sea, and I never ceased to express that belief to my husband and various members of the family, and also to Mr. Francis Joseph Baigent, of Winchester, an old friend of the family and a frequent visitor to Tichborne and to others persons.

16. In or about the year 1858 a sailor, whose name is unknown to me, solicited alms at Tichborne Park, while I was living there with my husband, and represented that he had come from Australia; and I had a conversation with the sailor, and made inquiries of him as to whether he had ever heard of the Bella or of any of her crew having been saved. The sailor replied that he had heard, when in Australia, of some of the crew of a ship, which he thought was the Bella, having been picked up at sea and brought to Melbourne, but no further or more definite information as to the Bella or her crew could be obtained from the sailor.

17. I communicated to my husband the statement made by the sailor, but he expressed the opinion that it was not worth notice, and no further notice was taken of such statement in his lifetime, save that I frequently referred to it; and when the marriage between my younger son and the Hon. Teresa Mary Josephine Tichborne was in contemplation, I stated that I had still the presentiment that the plaintiff was not lost, and my husband and I sent the defendant, Vincent Gosford, from Tichborne to Wardour Castle to Lord Arundell, before her marriage, to explain that whenever the plaintiff returned the title and estates would belong to him, and not to Alfred.

18. After the death of my husband, and in the year 1863, I caused advertisements for the plaintiff in the English, French, and Spanish languages to be inserted in The Times newspaper.

19. I some time subsequently communicated with Mr. Arthur Cubitt, of the Missing Friends Office Bridge-street, Sydney, New South Wales, advertising agent, and the said Mr. Cubitt, by my direction, caused advertisements to be inserted in various newspapers published at Melbourne and elsewhere, announcing the death of the plaintiffs father; and giving a description of the plaintiff, and offering a reward for his discovery.

20. Ultimately, and in or about the month of March, 1866, I received a letter from the plaintiff, dated from Wagga Wagga, New South Wales, in which he told me that he had made up his mind to face the sea once more, and requesting that funds might be sent out to him to defray his voyage home. I replied, urging his immediate return home, and I afterwards wrote him a letter and remitted to him a draught for £400. I had been previously in communication with Mr. Gibbs, of Wagga Wagga. and the said Mr. Cubitt, and had urged them to be very careful of the plaintiff's identity, and to be sure that he was my son before they allowed him to come home, and I gave them certain information respecting the plaintiff upon which they could question him and test his identity. I have been informed and believe that the plaintiff left Australia before such letter arrived there, and I have since received the £400 back.

21 I expected that the plaintiff would arrive by the French packet from Australia to St. Nazaire in France, and I went to Paris in November, 1866, to meet him. He did not, however, come by that route. I received a letter from him in the early part of January, 1867, announcing that he had arrived in England with his wife and child, and that he would be at the Hotel de Lille et d'Albion, in the Rue St. Honoré, Paris, on Thursday, the 10th day of the same month.

22. I sent my servant on the following Friday morning to the hotel he had named to inquire if Sir Roger Tichborne had arrived, and a message was returned to me to the effect that he had arrived, but was too unwell to go out. I then went to the hotel, and was shown into a room, where I saw the plaintiff. He was dressed, but lying down upon the bed, and was much overcome by emotion at seeing me. I instantly recognized him as my first-born son, Sir Roger Charles Tichborne.

23. I expressed my happiness at seeing him, and did all I could to soothe him, but he became so ill that I sent for Sir Joseph Olliffe, physician to the British Embassy at Paris, and Dr. Shrimpton, of that city, to attend upon him. I waited until they arrived, and in the presence of the plaintiff and of the said Sir Joseph Olliffe and Dr. Shrimpton, and Mr. Holmes, the plaintiff's solicitor, and Mr. Joseph Leete, a friend of the plaintiff, I declared the plaintiff was, as in fact he is, my firstborn son.

24. Prom that time until the 19th day of January, 1867, I spent the greater part of each day with the plaintiff. By that time he had sufficiently recovered to return to England, and he did return on that day, and a few weeks subsequently I rejoined him, the plaintiff, and his wife and daughter. I resided with them at Essex Lodge, Croydon, where they then lived, from the 15th day of February to the 25th day of April last, when I left Croydon because it did not agree with ray health, and came to live in London. Since the last-mentioned day I'have frequently visited and written to the plaintiff, and I have made and paid him an allowance at the rate of £1,000 per annum to support his family until he obtains possession of his estate.

25. I am certain as I am of my own existence, and distinctly and positively swear that the plaintiff is my firstborn son, the issue of my marriage with the said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne (deceased). His features, disposition, and voice are unmistakable, and must, in my judgment, be recognized by impartial and unprejudiced persons, who knew him before he left England in the year 1853.

26. Since he returned we have constantly talked over many private family matters which occurred in his youth, and up to the time of his leaving England, upon all of which he has a perfect recollection, and he has reminded me of his having sent over from South America the birds, pictures, spurs, and stirrups hereinbefore referred to.. I had forgotten the circumstance of his having sent the spurs and stirrups. After the loss of the Bella was reported I ordered that all his military accoutrements should be placed within a large box, which was accordingly done, and to the best of my knowledge and belief such box has not been opened for some few years, until it was searched as hereinafter mentioned. I had the box sent to me at Essex Lodge, Croydon, aforesaid, and opened it, and in the box I found the spurs and stirrups, which the plaintiff immediately recognized as those he had sent home from South America. The box also contained the plaintiff's two military cloaks, three-cornered hat, gauntlets, cap, coat, trousers, epaulets, and other articles. The hat, cap, cloaks, and gauntlets fitted him directly they were taken out of the box, and he put them on, while the other garments seemed to have been made for a man of the same height and length of arm as the plaintiff, but thinner in person than he now his. The evidence I have had that the plaintiff is my firstborn is most positive and conclusive, and it is impossible I can be mistaken.

27. While the plaintiff was staying with me at Paris the said Teresa Mary Josephine Tichborne wrote and sent to me a letter, inquiring of me whether I was perfectly satisfied that the plaintiff was my son. I immediately, upon the receipt of such letter, wrote and sent to the said Teresa Mary Josephine Tichborne, from Paris, a letter in reply, informing her in the most positive terms that the plaintiff was my son.

28. I believe that the last-mentioned letter was received by the said Teresa Mary Josephine Tichborne in the course of post, and in the month of January, 1867. Since then she has had no communication whatever with me, although previously we had been on terms of close intimacy and affection with each other, and in particular since the death of my son Alfred Joseph Tichborne I have shown her many and repeated marks of kindness and affection.

29. The several statements hereinebfore contained are within my own knowledge, except as herein before, and in such last-mentioned cases are believed by me to be true on the grounds. herein appearing.

HENRIETTE F. TICHBORNE.

Sworn at the Record and Writ Clerks' Office, Chancery-lane, in the county of Middlesex, this 27th day of June, 1870, before me,

FREDERICK BEDWELL.

The affidavit of Mr. Hopkins, who had since died, was then put in and read. The following is a copy of the affidavit:—

I, Edward Hopkins, of New Alresford, Hants, lately a solicitor, but now retired from practice, make oath and say as follows:—

1. I am now in the 64th year of my age. I knew and was for many years intimately acquainted with the late William James Francis Tichborne, afterwards Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne, now deceased. On the disentailing and re-settlement of the Tichborne estates in 1844 he was my client. The re-settlement proceeded on the assumption that on his eldest son, Roger Charles Tichborne, attaining the age of 21 years, certain estates known as the Doughty estates, of which he was tenant entail-expectant on the decease of the late Sir Edward Doughty, without issue male, should be disentailed and re-settled. The above-named plaintiff, now Sir Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne, is such eldest son.

2. In the year 1849, I prepared a statement for the opinion of Mr. Brodie as to the re-settlement of the Doughty estates. Mr. Brodie's opinion and suggestions were submitted by me to plaintiff, but he then objected to act on them. I had before this and subsequently several interviews with the plaintiff and a correspondence with him, which resulted in his ultimately acceding to a scheme which in effect realized the intentions entertained in the year 1844.

3. The plaintiff entered the army as a cornet in the 6th Dragoon Guards in 1849, and attained his age of 21 years in 1850. The requisite deeds of disentailment and re-settlement of the Doughty estates were prepared, I acting as the solicitor of the plaintiff, and his father on the occasion and in the month of May or June, 1850, went specially to see the plaintiff at Cahir in Ireland, when he executed such deeds in my presence, being the deeds of the 8th, 9th, and 10th of May, 1850, referred to in the plaintiff's bill of complaint filed in this cause

4. Subsequently, and while the plaintiff was in Ireland with his regiment, I had a correspondence with him respecting the purchase of his lieutenancy and other affairs, and after his arrival in England, and in the month of October, 1852, while he was with his regiment at Canterbury, I received letters from him. The plaintiff once dined at my house at Alresford, and subsequently dined with me at a club in London, and I have met him at dinner at Tichborne House, and on one occasion in particular he spent some time in my house, when I had some anxious conversation with him. After he left the army, in 1853, I do not recollect to have seen him before he left England for South America.

5. In the year 1854, shortly after the report of the loss of the ship Bella, the said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne, Bart., consulted me on the subject and as to the steps which should be taken, it having been discovered that before leaving England his said son, the plaintiff, had made a will, and deposited the same with Mr. Slaughter (now deceased), whom he had appointed, conjointly with Mr. Vincent Gosford, trustees and executors of the will. Sir James was much astonished that any will was in existence, and informed me that he was in utter ignorance that his son had made or contemplated making any will, and he was desirous that other trustees should be appointed.

6. I advised Sir James to investigate the reported loss of the Bella and her crew, and to get such evidence, if possible, as would establish the fate of the ship and crew, and acting under the advice of counsel, a suit was instituted in this honourable Court in Trinity Term, 1855, being the suit of " Tichborne v. Gosford" referred to in the plaintiff's said bill of complaint, filed in this cause for the purpose of administering the trusts of the said bill, and of having new trustees thereof appointed. The original bill of complaint in " Tichborne v. Gosford" was amended by striking out the prayer for administering the trusts and the order of the 5th of December, 1857, referred to in the plaintiff's bill of complaint, filed in this case, was made in the said suit of " Tichborne v. Gosford." My then firm of Messrs. Dunn, Hopkins, Blackmore, and Carter acted as solicitors of the plaintiff in the suit of " Tichborne v. Gosford." Such inquiries were made touching the loss of the Bella and her crew, as mentioned in the said bill of complaints in " Tichborne v. Gosford," with such results as therein mentioned, from which it appeared that the Bella was lost at sea, and as I believe, no tidings reached England at that time of any of the crew having been saved.

7. I was surviving trustee of the Doughty estates for raising £100,000, and acting upon the assumption that the plaintiff was lost in the Bella, and conceiving that Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne, as the survivor, had in himself the power to appoint new trustees, I resigned my trusteeship; indeed, I acted generally until the year 1860 on the assumption that the plaintiff was dead.

8. Having heard the various reports that the plaintiff was alive, and intending to return to England, I expressed to Mr. Francis Joseph Baigent, that, having had the plaintiff's confidence on the disentailment and resettling of the Doughty estates, I should be willing to render him any assistance in my power, and having been requested by the plaintiff's solicitor, Mr. Holmes, to see the plaintiff, for the purpose of satisfying myself as to his identity, I invited the plaintiff to dine at my house on the 2nd day of February, 1867, in company with the said Mr. Francis Joseph Baigent, and they did dine at my house on that day.

9. In a conversation of two or three hours duration which I had with the plaintiff on that occasion the plaintiff evinced an intimate acquaintance with the state of the gardens and grounds about Tichborne House before the alterations since the year 1853—a knowledge of the name of a particular cottage at Tichborne and its inmates, of the names of his deceased uncles and of their wives and families, and of various particulars relating to them, a perfect recollection of his being in my house in 1846, and the circumstance leading to it, a recollection of interviews with me when he was my client in 1849, 1850, 1851, and 1852, and his conduct thereon. Those, and other facts which transpired in conversation so satisfied me that he was, in fact, my old client, Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne, the eldest son of the said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne and Dame Henriette, his wife, that on the following day I wrote to the plaintiff inviting him to stay at my house on a visit. On the same day I wrote to Lord Arundell of Wardour and to Henry Danby Seymour, Esq., M.P., and on the 4th day of February I wrote to Messrs. Cullington and Slaughter, solicitors of certain of the defendants, as follows:—

" Alresford, Feb. 4, 1867.

" Dear Sir,—I think it right to tell you I received a letter from Sir Roger Charles Tichborne, that he dined at my house on that day, that the following day (yesterday) I had a walk and talk with him, and I have no doubt whatever he is the Roger Charles Tichborne who was my client on my disentailment of the Doughty estates. I received a letter from Mr. Gosford, of the 19th of January, and purposely abstained from replying to it, and glad I am I so acted. I have left my business for more than a year; this, however, will not preclude me from rendering such service to Sir Roger Charles Tichborne as I am able, in acknowledgment of the confidence reposed in me when he was my client.—Yours truly,

" EDWARD HOPKINS.

" Messrs. Cullington and Slaughter."

10. The plaintiff accepted my invitation, and came on a visit to my house on the 8th day of February, 1867, and remained for five days in my house, and during that time he associated with myself and the members of my family as an ordinary visitor. Since then he has breakfasted in my house, and I have received letters from him.

11. The communications, written and verbal, which I have had with the plaintiff, confirm me in my first conviction, that the plaintiff is my former client, the eldest son of Sir James Francis Tichborne and Dame Henriette Félicité his wife, and though I cannot recall to my recollection the expression of his features, I entertain no doubt whatever as to his identity.

12. The several statements hereinbefore contained are within my own knowledge, except as hereinbefore appears, and in such last-mentioned cases are believed by me to be true, on the grounds herein appearing.

EDWARD HOPKINS.

Sworn at New Alresford, in the county of Southampton, this 1st day of July, 1867, before me,

JNO. FRAS. ADAMS,

A Commissioner to Administer Oaths in Chancery in England.

The affidavit of Elizabeth Hopwood, late of Tichborne, was next read. She deposed to seeing the plaintiff frequently from 1849 to 1854 walking and riding, and she recollected his face and features quite well. She frequently met him in the highway, and on one occasion, when she saw him near to Cherrington, he was looking rather angrily. On Saturday, the 23rd March, 1867, she was told to go to the Swan Inn, at Alresford, and there she saw the plaintiff in a room. She recognized him as a Tichborne immediately he stood up, and the more she talked to him the more she became convinced of his being the man. She recognized him, too, by his voice, and the twitching of the upper part of his face. He inquired when she saw him last, and she reminded him of the occasion when he was looking angrily at Cherrington. He immediately remembered the circumstance, and said that he had sent a man to the blacksmith's to get his horse shod, and that he stayed away too long, it being the last day of his service in the family.

The next affidavit was that of Mr. Jervis Morant Long, late of Belmore House, near Bishop's Waltham, as follows:—

I, Jervis Morant Long, second son of Walter Jervis Long, of Belmore House, near Bishop's Waltham, in the county of Hants, Esq., make oath and say as follows I am one of the grandsons of Walter Long, of Preshaw House, near Bishop's Waltham, in the same county, Esq. I am 25 years of age next January. My father and grandfather live within eight miles of Tichborne Park, near Alresford, Hampshire, the family seat of the Tichborne's, and our family knew the family of the late Sir Edward Doughty and the late Sir James Francis Tichborne (now deceased). I remember hunting with the Hampshire Hounds, known as the " H. H." pack, and with the Hambledon Hounds, formerly kept by my father when I was a boy about 10 years old. I used to wear a scarlet jacket and ride a Shetland pony. A footman ran by the side of me. In February, 1864, I left England for Australia, and I have been for the last three years in Queensland engaged in obtaining experience in stock-keeping and sheep-farming. In August, 1866, I was in Sydney, and being in a shop there I overheard a conversation respecting the arrival of Sir Roger Charles Tichborne in Sydney. The supposed death of Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne had been the subject of conversation at my father's and grandfather's table, and shortly before I left England I remember a discussion taking place at Preshaw upon it—that it was suggested he was still alive and would turn up some day; and the fact of his mother's disbelief in his death was alluded to most particularly. When I heard in Sydney the name of Tichborne mentioned I inquired of the shopkeeper for his address, and was referred to the Metropolitan Hotel. I went there accordingly the next day, and was shown into a room, where I saw the plaintiff and a lady and child, who were, as I believe, his wife and daughter. I made myself known to the plaintiff, and we entered into conversation respecting Tichborne Park, Preshaw, and the neighbourhood. The plaintiff inquired after my father and grandfather, and remembered and referred to my hunting in a scarlet jacket and on a Shetland pony with a man at my side. He very well knew and stated the places where the different packs of hounds used to meet, and evinced so much knowledge of localities and persons known to me in Hampshire, that I had no hesitation in believing him, and do firmly believe him to be in reality Sir Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne, the eldest son of the late Sir James Francis Tichborne. I spent several days with the plaintiff in Sydney, and I saw him and his family on board ship when they left for England in September, 1866, and so convinced was I of his identity that I advanced to the plaintiff £200 towards the expenses of his voyage, and I wrote to my father explaining that I had met Sir Roger Charles Tichborne, and that he was then returning home. I left Sydney in January, 1867, and arrived in England in April following. I have been twice for several days upon a visit with the plaintiff at his house in Croydon. The statements hereinbefore contained are within my own knowledge.

The affidavit of John Waddington, gatekeeper at the Military College, Sandhurst, stated that he was a corporal in the 6th Dragoon Guards, and an assistant in the riding school. He remembered Sir Roger joining the regiment at Portobello Barracks, Dublin, and he saw him frequently till he left in 1852. He was a heavy man, and difficult to teach, and, in consequence, extra riding lessons were given him. Afterwards he had a good seat, and rode well. He had since seen Sir Roger at the offices of a solicitor, and recognized him immediately.

Several witnesses were then called to give formal proof of certain affidavits having been sworn.

Rev. Henry Hubbard, the rector of Cherrington, an elderly gentleman, was called by Mr. Giflard to prove the certificate of death of a person named Coles. The rectory was about a mile and a half from Tichborne. He became the rector in 1825.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I know all the members of the Tichborne family intimately, except the claimant. I knew Sir Henry, Sir Edward, and Sir James exceedingly well. I did not see Sir Roger sufficiently often to make myself thoroughly acquainted with him. I used to shoot with the family. I have kept a diary, but merely as an amusement.

The Solicitor-General asked to be allowed to further examine this gentleman at the proper time.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine dissented, and said that the learned gentleman had better call Mr. Hubbard as a witness for the defence.

The Solicitor-General assented, and proceeded with his examination: I knew Sir Roger by sight. He was short in stature, and very thin; but I cannot remember distinctly now, it is so long ago. I should say that he was a small-boned man, of fair complexion—in fact, his hair was neither light nor dark. He was certainly more like an Englishman than a Frenchman. I saw him at a ball at Alresford an immense number of years ago. The claimant was at Lady Tichborne's funeral, but he did not appear to be the same man. I don't believe he is; certainly not. At the funeral I went into the pulpit purposely that I might get a good look at him, and I saw him again by the blacksmith's, when he turned towards me, and my firm belief is that the claimant is not Sir Robert Tichborne.

Cross-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It was three or four years before he came of age when I saw him at the Alresford ball. He might have been between 14 and 15 years of age then.

Were you not surprised to find him somewhat altered at the age of 44? With your good health, and living in the country, you are not so good a man as you were years ago?—Perhaps not.

What reason have you for expressing your firm belief that the claimant is not the man—that he is not the same whom you knew as the boy of 15?—Because he is so completely altered. (Laughter.)

But you would not expect him to remain the same?—Certainly not.

Is this alteration the only reason why you think he is not Sir Roger? I think — that is a very good reason.

Can you give me any additional reason?—No.

Then because you find a man of 45 different to what he was when a boy of 15, that is sufficient, you think, to doubt his identity?—I should say he is totally altered.

What on earth would you expect?—Certainly not any change so great.

What do you mean by his being short? Is not 5 feet 7 or 8 inches a good height for a boy of 15?

Witness: Do you think so?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: If you ask me, I say certainly. (Laughter.)

The Court then adjourned till Monday.

FOURTH DAY.—MONDAY, MAY 15.

THIRD DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Common Pleas, Westminster.

Before the commencement of the proceedings,

The CHIEF-JUSTICE said: I have received numerous applications for admission to the Court in consequence of a report having been circulated that persons are not admitted without an order from me. I cannot reply to such applications, and, in order to prevent a repetition of them, I wish to state that there is a complete misapprehension on the subject. The bar generally are admitted as far as there is room for them before the Court sits without orders or passes; the public and the bar are also admitted after the Court sits, without passes or orders, to any vacant space that remains without crowding the passages or interrupting the business. The size of this Court is so inconveniently small, and the accommodation it affords so limited, as to be quite inadequate for the purposes of the present trial, and I therefore wrote to the Lord Chief-Justice of England to ask for his Court, which he has kindly placed at my disposal after to-day. This will, I hope, in some degree remove the inoonvenience which has been felt; but still, it will be necessary to secure the accommodation and the ready access to the Court of all those who are connected with this trial, and this will be done by passes, as at present.

Thd Solicitor-General said that both his learned friend (Serjeant Ballantine) and himself were aware that what had been done had been done on the representation of those interested in the trial, and in order that they might be able to conduct it in something like decent comfort.

The Chief-Justice said that he had thought it desirable to request from the Commissioners of Police a staff of police to preserve the arrangements, which had been granted; otherwise ladies and others connected with the trial would have found it impossible to gain an entrance.

James M'Cann, called and examined by Mr. Giffard: I am 55 years of age. I entered her Majesty's 6th Dragoon Guards in 1839, the Carabineers. I joined as a private soldier, and remained in the regiment about twenty-two years. I remember Mr. Roger, C. Tichborne joining at the Portobello Barracks, Dublin. I remember in 1850 also a person named Clark, who was Tichborne's servant. I remember that Clark was sent to Clonmel with a message, on his master's horse, and that on his return his horse ran off, and he was killed. I then became Mr. Roger Tichborne's servant. I was with him continually, and I remember him well. I remember some of his physical peculiarities. He spoke with a strong French accent, and used very little English. He had a twiching of the eyelids. He was very fond of horses and hunting. I remember two dogs he had. Their names were Piecrust and Spring. He was an officer of the party which changed to Clonmel, then back to Dublin, then to Herne Bay and Canterbury. He landed at Herne Bay, and marched to Canterbury on foot. While the regiment was in Canterbury in 1852 Mr. Tichborne was taken suddenly ill, and when I went to his room he sent me for the doctor of the regiment. When the doctor entered he saw at once what was the matter. He first lanced his right arm and then his left, but neither would bleed. He then gave him a probe nnder the ankle or thereabout, and then directly he commenced to bleed at the arm. Dr. Taylor came in shortly afterwards, and he approved of what was done. Mr. Tichborne was about a fortnight ill. Another person was employed to look after his horses when I attended him. He had two horses to ride and to drive, and a civilian servant, named Thomas Carter, attended to them. He was much taken up with .Captain Morton. He was not the captain of his troop then. Mr. Roger Tichborne was very much inclined to keep by himself. As soon as he left the regiment I went to Mr. Hormley, and afterwards went into the 17th Lancers. I am now in receipt of a pension, and have served 24 years in the army. I saw Mr. Tichborne about the beginning of 1853. The next time I saw him was at Croydon, in 1867. I had heard the story of his having returned. I did not go to see if I could recognise him until Mr. Holms sent for me, and when he sent for me I went to see if X could recognize him. I recognized him at first, without any trouble whatever. After I recognized him I had conversation with him.

Mr. Giffixrd: Did you ask him any questions?—Witness: No, I did not. I knew him thoroughly well, and I should have been ashamed to let him know that I did not know him.

A Juror: Did he recognize you?—Witness: Yes he did.

By Mr. Giffard: It was in the month of March that I saw him. I got a letter from Mr. Bowker after I saw him. I never saw Mr. Bowker before I sent the letter to Mr. Holms. It escaped my memory, but I should have stated that Mr. Bowker called at my lodgings before he wrote to me. I had seen Sir Roger Tichborne before he called on me. We had a conversation with reference to Messrs. Philip.

Mr. Gifiard then proposed to tender the letter of Mr. Bowker, when

The solicitor-General objected to its being read. Mr. Dobinson was the solicitor on the record, and they had, therefore, no knowledge that Mr. Bowker was the attorney.

Mr. Giffard said there was no doubt that Mr. Bowker was the local attorney. In proof of that he produced a letter from Messrs. Dobinson and Geare, dated Lincoln's Inn Fields, April 13, and headed "Bowker." His lordship knew that that was the way in which London agents spoke of country clients.

The Chief-Justice: I have no such knowledge.

Mr. Giffard then intimated that he would call Mr. Dobinson, the attorney on the other side.

The witness M'Cann then left the box, and

Mr. James George Dobinson was called and examined by Mr. Giffard: I am attorney for the defendants. I have been acting since 1867 for Mr. Bowker in this litigation, and entered the proceedings for ejectment as his agent.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: There are two Mr. Bowkers—a London Mr. Bowker and a Winchester Mr. Bowker. We have had the conduct of this cause since the commencement of it in 1868. We are defending the cause on behalf of the young child of the last baronet, universally called " Sir Alfred." The persons who are defending it are his mother and grand-uncle, the Hon. Mr. Stoughton. They are the only parties at present on the record except Mr. Lushington, who is simply a tenant. In the course of the proceedings it has been necessary to send out commissions for the examination of witnesses both to Chili and Australia. I have the order on which these commissions were issued. There was subsequently an order issued by Mr. Justice Hannen postponing the execution of the commission, and it was postponed on the condition that the plaintiff would present himself for examination both in Chili and Australia.

The Solicitor-General: Was it sworn in the affidavit by the plaintiff that he intended to be present at the execution of the commission, and that it was necessary that he should himself proceed to Chili and Australia to be present at the execution of this commission?—Witness: I think you will find that he swore in the most positive terms.

Mr. Giffard objected to the answer.

The Solicitor-General: We have the affidavit here. It was upon that affidavit that the order of Mr. Justice Haunen postponing and enlarging the commission was made. The date of that order was September 8, 1867. After the commission had been sent out to Chili a further application was made for the enlargement of the commission. Mr. Holmes was present, and at that time was acting as attorney for the plaintiff. The commission was further enlarged upon that application. In that affidavit did Mr. Holmes say: " The only question to be decided in this case is the identity of the plaintiff, and I have held and expressed a decided opinion that he was bound in the interests of justice to go abroad and present himself to the witnesses who might be called on either side."?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said they admitted the affidavit.

Cross-examination resumed by the Solicitor-General: After the execution of these commissions I saw Mr. Holmes at chambers upon an application to extend still further the time of the execution of the commission. He told me he had not heard from the plaintiff since he left England. On one occasion he showed me some newspapers from Buenos Ayres in which the plaintiff's name was mentioned, which proved that he was there at that time. This was an inducement to extend the commission. I think it was on the last application but one to extend the Australian commission. It was whilst the Chilian commission was being executed, for we had copies of the depositions, so far as they had been taken. There were several applications for extending the time of the Australian commission, and it was several times enlarged.

The Solicitor-General: Did you learn from Mr. Holmes whether the plaintiff had presented himself?—Witness: Mr. Holmes said distinctly that he had not presented himself, and he believed that neither himself nor his clerk, who was with the commission, knew where he was. He could not account for his non-appearance. We had some conversation as to the effect of the depositions upon his case. I asked him his opinion, and whether he was satisfied now that he was 'an impostor. He said, " Pretty well." He then said, " Shall you indict him?" and I replied, " That's for the consideration of my clients," and followed up by asking " Shall you? " He said, " I am considering with the two friends who have principally supported hira whether we shall or not."

The Solicitor-General: Did he say anything more?—Witness: I could hardly repeat the precise words, hut he spoke unreservedly of his being an impostor. He said he should retire from the case at once, which he did.

The Solicitor-General: Was there a judge's order subsequently changing the attorney?—Witness: Mr. Holmes ceased to conduct the case, and is not now in it. The gentleman whose names are now on the record are Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton. They were not the immediate successors of Mr. Holmes. Messrs. Walter and Morgan succeeded Mr. Holmes, and they remained on the record until October last. After that I found that I had to communicate with Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton.

The Solicitor-General: Was the final extension of the time of the execution of the Australian commission upon the same terms as it had been before—that the plaintiff should present himself to the commission?—Witness: These terms were never withdrawn, but they were never re-mentioned. They remained on the order.

The Solicitor-General: As far as you know, did lie go there?—Witness: It is physically impossible that he could have gone there.

The Solicitor-General: Neither in Chili nor Australia did he present himself to the ocular inspection of one single witness who was examined?—Witness: No. Before the issuing of the Chilian commission, the plaintiff had been cross-examined, on his affidavit before Mr. Charles Roupell at the Law Institution.

The Solicitor-General: Was he cross-examined on the subject of a person of the name of Castro whom he said he knew in Chili?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to the question.

Cross-examination resumed: It was in consequence of what passed at that crossexamination that I took proceedings to issue the Chilian commission. A large number of the near relations of Roger Tichborne were present at that examination. LadyDoughty, Roger's aunt, and the widow of his father's brother, were present. They were brought there simply as spectators. Mr. Ratcliffe his first cousin, Mr. Alfred Seymour, his uncle, Mrs. Mangles, his only surviving aunt, and Miss Mangles, Lord Arundel, his first cousin, and one of his brothers, Colonel and Mrs. Greenwood, a cousin, Colonel George, Mrs. John Townley, another cousin, and a good many other relatives were present.

The Solicitor-General: Did anything that passed lead you to believe that he recognized the persons you have mentioned?—Witness: He said he recognized Lady Tichborne, the widow of Sir Edward Tichborne. He said, " I see my sister-in-law," pointing towards her. He made some observations in regard to three others, but it was not in answer to any specific questions put to him. I don't recollect whether he recognized Lady Tichborne the first day or not, but I think it was the first. The mode of recognition was that he complained that his sister-in-law was staring at him. The proceedings lasted four hours a day for three days, and the plaintiff was crossexamined upon his affidavit.

The plaintiff's affidavit, of which the following is the most important part, was then read by Mr. Hawkins:—

23. The said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne died on the 11th day of June, 1862, leaving his wife, the said Henriette Félicité, and myself, his eldest son and heir-at-law, and the said Alfred Joseph Tichborne, his only issue, him surviving.

24. Upon the death of the said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichbome I succeeded to the title, and became the 11th Baronet of Tichborne, and also become, and I am now, entitled, as tenant for life in possession, to the Tichborne estates settled by the said indenture of the 4th day of May, 1844, under the limitations therein contained.

25. I resided with my parents at Paris from the date of my birth until the year 1845, when I was brought over to this country, and was shortly afterwards placed at Stonyhurst College, Lancashire, where I received my English education.

20. In the mouth of luly, 1849, I was appointed cornet, and subsequently lieutenant, in Her Maiesty's Gth Dragoon Guards (Carabineers). I joined that regiment in the month of October, 1849 at Dublin where it was then quartered, and remained on duty with the regiment from the month of October, 1849, until the month of January, 1853 (except during temporary leave of absence). I retired from the regiment in the month of February, 1853.

27. During my vacation from college and while on leave of absence from mv regiment I usnally resided, from the year 1845 until I left this country to travel in foreign hereinafter mentioned, with my uncle, the said Sir Edward Doughty, at Tichbome Park the family seat of the Tichbornes ; and I was in the habit of shooting over the Tichborne estates and hunting in that neighbourhood, and I gave up much of my time to field sports and the Management of horses.

28. I left my regiment with the object of travelling for some years in distant parts and in the first instance I determined to proceed to Sonth America In the month of Match, 1853, I took passage on board a ship bound for Valparaiso, where I arrived in duo course and from that time untilthe month of April, 1854, I travelled from place to place m various parts Of South Ameirca.

29. In the month of April, 1854, the ship Bella, of Liverpool. Captain Birkett, master, was at the port of Rio de Janeiro, and learning that she was hound and shortly intended to leave that port for New York I took lay passage by the Bella for that city. The Bella left the port of Rio on the morning of the 20th day of April, 1854, with myself on board, and proceeded on her voyage. To the best of my recollection and belief, when she left Rio the crew of the Bella (including the captain) consisted of about 17 persons, I being the only passenger on board.

30. All went well until the fourth day after the Bella had left Rio, and was far out of sight of land, but on the morning of that day the mate reported to the captain that she had sprung a leak, and all hands were instantly set to work at the pumps and every effort was made to save the ship, but without effect. Very shortly after the mate reported the leak it became apparent the vessel was fast filling with water, and the captain announced that all further efforts to save the ship were useless, and that all on board must instantly take to the boats.

31. The Bella carried a longboat on deck and two smaller boats, one of which was slung from the davits on each quarter. One of the small boats was stove in and rendered useless, but the crew succeeded in safely lowering upon the sea the longboat and the other boat, which was the larger of the two small ones, hereinafter referred to as "the second boat," and in stowing some provisions and casks of water into the boats, I, and, to the best of my recollection and belief, eight of the crew, got into the second boat, and the captain, and, to the best of my recollection and belief, the rest of the crew got into the longboat, and immediately pushed off from the Bella, and the ship Bella soon afterwards sank.

32. The captain, who had in the longboat the ship's charts, ordered that the second boat should keep in sight of the longboat, which she did for two days, but in the night of the second day a high wind and storm came on, and the boats were soon out of sight of each other, and the longboat was not again seen by those in the second boat. The man who had the command of the second boat then determined to let her drift with the wind. On the morning of the fourth day after the Bella had sunk, the crew of the second boat descried a ship in the distance, and used every means to reach her and to attract notice, and for that purpose a red flannel shirt which one of the crew of the boat wore was attached to an oar and hoisted as a signal. Ultimately a signal was made in reply, and the crew of that boat rowed to the ship, and I and the whole of the crew on board the second boat were thus saved, after we had been three days and nights at sea in an open boat.

33. I was in a very exhausted state when I was rescued, and I was for some time seriously ill on board the ship which saved me, but I was landed at the port of Melbourne, in Australia about the end of July, 1854.

34. I had saved nothing from the Bella except the clothes I wore, and when I landed at Melbourne I had no means whatever there for my support.

35. Oil the first day I landed the captain of the ship which brought me to Melbourne took me to an office, which I believe was the Custom-house, and had a conversation with some person there as to what should be done for me, but nothing was aiTanged except that I should be allowed to sleep on board the ship that night, which I accordingly did. Before returning to the ship the captain and I together called at an office, and made inquiries for the purpose of ascertaining how I could get a passage to England, but without any useful result. I learnt that Melbourne was then in a very unsettled state in consequence of the gold mania, that thd crews of ships as they arrived very frequently deserted for the gold diggings, and that there was consequently great difficulty in procuring a passage to England. There were a great nmnber of ships tlion in the port unable to start for want of hands.

36. On the day after I first landod at Melbourne I was strolling about the town, and went into a yard called Row's-yard, situate in Burke-street, Melbourne, where a large number of horses were being sold. I was much attracted by what was taking place, and a person whom I afterwards discovered to be Mr. William Foster, an extensive stockkeeper of Gippsland, spoke to me, and after ascertaiaing that I was a good rider, offered to take me with him to Gippsland, where there was good hunting and shooting.

37. I accepted such offer, and for family reasons I assumed the name of Tomas Castro (after that of a friend named Don Tomas Castro, whose acquaintance I had made at Mellipilla, in Chili), and I continued to use, and was known in Australia by the name of Tomas Castro until shortly prior to my return to England as hereinafter mentioned.

38. I immediately afterwards left Melbourne with Mr. Foster and his horses, and proceeded to Mr. Foster's station at Boisdale, in Gippsland, on the Avon river, nearly 300 miles from Melbourne, where I remained about 19 months. Mr. Foster then gave me charge of the Dargo station in the Australian Alps, about 115 miles further inland, where I remained for about 18 months, and then returned to Boisdale, when, after staying for about three months, I travelled about and remained at various places, as in the 38th paragraph of my said bill mentioned.

39. On the 29th of January. 1865, I intermarried with Mary Ann Bryant, spinster. I and my wife are both Roman Catholics, but, being then desirous of concealing my real name, which I could not have done if the marriage had been solemnized by a priest of the Church of Rome, inasmuch as I must prior to my marriage have attended the confessional, my said marriage was solemnised by the Rev. Frederick Thomas Brentwill, a minister of the Wcsleyan Church, at the residence of Mrs. Robinson, of Wagga Wagga, I being then married under iny assumed name of Thomas Castro.

40. I and my wife thenceforth continued to reside at Wagga Wagga, passing under the assumed name of Castro until shortly prior to my return to England, as hereinafter mentioned.

41. I have been informed by my mother, and believe, that in or about the year 1858 a sailor, whose name is unknown to me, solicited arms at Tichborne Park, and represented that he had come from Australia; and that she had a conversation with the sailor, and made inquiries of him as to whether he had ever heard of the Bella or of any of her crew having been saved, and that the sailor replied that he had heard, when in Australia, of some of the crew of a ship, which he thought was the Bella, having been picked up at sea and brought to Melbourne. T have also been informed by Mr. Francis Joseph Baigent, of Winchester, that he was then at Tichborne Park on a visit., and that at the request of my mother he, the said Mr. Baigent, then saw the sailor and made the like inquiries of him, and that he repeated to the said Mr. Baigent the information he had previously given to my mother as aforesaid, but that no information as to myself nor any further or more definite information as to the Bella or her crew could be obtained from the sailor.

42. I have been informed by my mother, and believe, that my father, to whom the statement made by the sailor was communicated, expressed the opinion that it was not worth notice, and that no further notice was taken of such statement in his lifetime, save that my mother frequently referred to it, and that when the marriage between her younger son and the Hon. Teresa Mary Josephine Arundell was in contemplation, she stated that she had a presentiment that I was still alive.

43. I have also been informed by my mother, and believe, that after the death of my father, and in the year 1863, she caused advertisements for me in the English, French, and Spanish languages to be inserted in The Times newspaper, and that she some time subsequently communicated with Mr. Arthur Cubitt, of the Missing Friends Office, Bridge-street, Sydney, New South Wales, advertising agent, and that the said Mr. Cubitt, by her direction, caused advertisements to bo inserted in various newspapers published at Melbourne, Sydney, and elsewhere, announcing the death of my father, and giving a description of me, and offering a reward for my discovery.

44. Ultimately, and towards the end of the year 1865, I for the first time learnt, by means of such advertisements, of my father's death, and in the early part of January, 1866, I wrote and sent a letter to my mother informing her that I had at last made up my mind to face the sea once more, and requesting that money might be sent out to enable me to return to England. I had been informed by my mother, and believe, that she received such letter in course of post, and that she wrote and sent to me a letter urging my immediate return, and I have been informed by ray mother, and believe, that she subsequently remitted a draught for £400 to defray the expenses of the voyage.

45. As soon as practicable, in the year 1860, I made arrangements to return home with my wife and child, without waiting the receipt of the draft. I believe that such draft reached Australia after I had left for England, and I have been informed by my mother, and believe, that the said draft has since been returned toher through the post.

46. Having determined to return to England, I, on the 9th day of July, 1866, again went through the ceremony of marriage with my wife under my proper name at the Roman Catholic Church of St. Peter and St. Paul, at Goulbome, New South Wales, according to the rites of the Church of Rome, the ceremony on that occasion being solemnized by the Rev; Michael M'Alroy, a priest of that Church. There has been issue of my said marriage two children, and no more— namely, Teresa Mary Agnes, the before mentioned child, who was born at Wagga Wagga aforesaid, on the 18th day of March, 1866, and the above-named defendant, Roger Joseph Doughty Tichborne, who was born at Croydon as aforesaid, on the 1st day of May. 1867.

47. While remaining at Sydney, previous to my embarkation, I accidently met there a person named Guilfoyle, who was for many years in the employ of my uncle, the said Sir Edward Doughty (deceased). When I was at Sydney, Guilfoyle was, and I believe that he is now, carrying on business there as a nurseryman. Guilfoyle and his wife, who also saw me at Sydney, well knew me before I left England in the year 1853, and upon seeing me at Sydney they recognized me as the eldest son of the said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne.

48. I also met at Sydney Andrew Bogle, who also had for many years been in the employ of my uncle, the said Sir Edward Doughty, as valet, and to whom I was well known before I left England in the year 1853. The said Andrew Bogle, upon meeting me at Sydney, also recognized me as the eldest son of the said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne,and the said Andrew Bogle at his own request accompanied me to England.

49. I have been informed by the said Andrew Bogle, and believe that he, the said Andrew Bogle, acting in the full belief that my relatives would be glad to hear that I was alive, and had been recognized by one who knew me well, shortly before his embarkation sent to my aunt, Dame Katlierine Doughty, a letter informing her of the fact, and that I and himself were about to embark for England. I believe that such letter was received by the said Dame Katherme Doughty, in course of post, and in or about the month of October, 1866, and that the said Dame Katherme Doughty at once communicated the contents of such letter to the above-named defendants. Teresa Mary Josephine Doughty Tichborne, William Stourton, and Renfric Arundell.

50. In the month of September, 1866, I, my wife, and child embarked at the port of Sydney on board the Rakia, bound for Panama, and, having arrived there, proceeded across the Isthmus to Aspinwall, and from thence, by way of New York, to England, and arrived on the 25th day of December, 1866, at the Victoria Docks, Limehouse, on board the steamship Cella.

51. Shortly afterwards, and in the same month of December, I visited Alresford, near to Tichborne, and found that Tichborne House was occupied by Colonel Lushington. Having remained at Alresford a few days I returned to London, and subsequently stayed for a few days at the Clarendon Hotel, Gravesend. On or about the 5th of January, 1867, the defendant Vincent Gosford, accompanied by Mr. Plowden, a distant relative of mine, and Mr. Cullington, of the firm of Messrs. Slaughter and Cullington, solicitors for several of the defendants hereto, visited Gravesend and saw me.

52. On Tuesday, the 8th day of January, 1867, the said Vincent Gosford again called upon me and had a prolonged interview with me at the said hotel, and accompanied me in the train to London. During such interview I and the said Vincent Gosford discussed various matters and circumstances relating to the Tichborne and Doughty families, and the neighbourhoods of Tichborne and Upton, with which we were both familiar. The said Vincent Gosford has since had another interview with me, and I then again very fully discussed with the said Vincent Gosford such matters and circumstances, and recalled to the memory of the said Vincent Gosford various facts which occurred previous to my leaving England in the year 1853, some of which were only known to me and the said Vincent Gosford: and the said Vincent Gosford admitted that some of such facts had escaped his recollection until they were recalled to his memory by me, but that he then well remembered that such facts did occur as stated by me, and I proved to the said Vincent Gosford beyond a shadow of doubt that I was the eldest son of the said Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne.

53. I verily believe that no circumstance whatever has arisen to lead to or to justify the said Vincent Gosford in raising any doubt whatever as to my identity.

The cross-examination of the plaintiff at the Law Institution, upon his affidavit, was then read by the Solicitor-General:—

I do not recollect the exact day in July, 1854, when I landed in Melbourne on my first arrival. I staid there two days. I went from thence to Gippsland. I changed my name the morning that I started for Gippsland, or rather on the previous evening. I took the names '' Tomas Castro. Tomas Castro was a Chilian. I was induced to select that name for private reasons, because it suited me to do so. I cannot give the particular reasons for using that name, except as I was going down to Gippsland as a stockman. I did not like to use my own name. I most undoubtedly gave my own name on board the ship that took me to Melbourne. With reference to the 36th paragraph of my affidavit in this suit, I say that I made an arrangement with Mr. William Foster therein mentioned as to wages. I was to receive 30s. a week; it was not for a definite time. I was accompanied by eight or nine station or return horses from Melbourne to Boisdale, in Gippsland. Mr. Foster and others went with me. I remained at Boisdale about 18 months. I received £2 a week wages after I had been there about six months. I then went to another station named Dargo, a little above 100 miles off. I returned from Dargo to Boisdale, and stayed there about three months. Up to that time I was in the same employment. I then commenced breaking in horses on my own account at Flodden Creek. I remained there about six months. I then went to the Mitchell Station, Norman M'Leod, on the Mitchell River, and broke in horses. I entered into partnership there with a Mr. Burrows in that business. By partnership I only mean that we worked together; there was no deed. About nine months afterwards I gave up breaking in horses with the said Mr. Burrows, but I did not cease to break in horses. I broke in horses almost down to the time when I left Australia, but breaking in horses was not the only trade I carried on in Australia. I carried on several other trades in Australia. I travelled with stock. I carried on a butchering establishment. I rode Her Majesty's mails. I carried on the business of a butcher on my own account during, I think, seven months, at Tumit, and during two or three at Wagga Wagga. I carried on that business at Wagga Wagga during a part only of the time. I was there for about two months or so; during all this time I was in good circumstances, at least the principal part of the time. I twice closed my establishment. If you call that failing I failed twice. I paid some of my creditors, some are still not paid. I married on the 29th of January, 1865. Before my marriage with her my wife was a domestic servant. She was not a very well educated person; if she can write at all she can write but little. I was managing a butchery at the time of my marriage. When I landed in Australia in July, 1854. I did not write to England. I first wrote to England in January, 1866, I think. I had intended to write when I first went down; then I put it off from time to time. I had no particular reason for not writing any more than I did not wish people to know where I was.

Q. But why should you not wish people to know where you were?—Because I was not inclined to do so. The last time that I wrote to England before landing at Melbourne was, 1 think, in April, 1854: it was from Rio. I think I wrote to my father and to Vincent Gosford. I don't now remember writing to any one else. I first heard of Sir Edward Doughty's death when I arrived at Valparaiso. I, therefore, knew when I landed at Valparaiso that Sir James Francis Doughty Tichborne, my father, had succeeded to the title. It might have occurred to me when I arrived destitute at Melbourne to write to my father, and I should have done so had I not have gone down to Gippsland. I have no other reason to give for not writing.

Q. Had there been any quarrel between you and him?— Well, I think you might leave that out.

Q. I don't mean to leave it out.—Then I decline to tell you whether there was a quarrel or not.

Q. I require to know, and I must know?—No, I will not answer that.

Q. Did it occur to you to write to Lady Tichborne?—It might have done so.

Q. Had you any quarrel with her?—I decline to answer that.

Q. Did it occur to you to write to Mr. Alfred rich borne?—I cannot say that it did. It is impossible for me to remember what occurred to me at that time. I made no application to any member of the Tichborne family for pecuniary assistance during my stay in Australia till I wrote n January, 1860.

Q. Now, can you give us the name of the vessel that Uncled you at Melbourne?—I am under the impression that it was the Osprey, but I am not certain.

Q. Can you give us the name of the captain?—It was Owen Lewis or Lewis Owen.

Q. Have you ever seen him since?—No, I have not; I have had no communication with him since.

Q. Did you tell him that you were the eldest son or a baronet?—I cannot say whether I did or not.

Q. Did you promise him anything: for saving your life?—No, I did not.

Q, Do you remember the names of any officers on board that ship?—ho, I cannot say I can do so to a certainty.

Q. Can you guess?—I am not going to guess; I am on my oath.

Q. Do you remember the names of any of the crew? — No, I should not be likely to know them ; and I do not know them.

Q. As far as you know, is there any log-hook of the vessel in existence?—Not as far as I know. I remember leaving England. I left from Southampton. I went from thence to Havre. There may have been some particular reason for my selecting Havre as a starting point, but I cannot recollect it now. I think the vessel's name in which I left Havre w;is La Pauline. I don't remember the captain's name. There were other passengers on board. I really don't.remember how many.

Q. Were there two?—Yes.

Q. Were there three?—I don't know about that. I say there were two passengers on board the vessel.

Q. Who were those two passengers;— I don't remember.

Q. Two besidea yourself?—I said there were two passengers on board the ship.

O. Two besides yourself?—I don't say besides myself.

Q. Were there two besides yourself? Surely you must remember that?—I told you before that I don't remember how many passengers there were.

Q. You must surely be able to remember whether there were two passengers besides yourself? I don't remember correctly, and I therefore say that I don't remember. The two passengers I positively speak of were myself and my servant.

Q. Were there any other passengers on board that vessel besides yourself and your servant?— I don't remember. French was the language commonly spoken on board that vessel. I spoke French with the rest. I stayed about five weeks at Valparaiso the first time that I was there. I went from thence to Callao. I went from Callao to Lima. From Lima I went into the interior, shooting, I think; went back to Valparaiso, and from thence to Casa Blanca, a short distance inland from Valparaiso. From Valparaiso I went to Santiago, viâ Mellipilla, and from thcncc to Mendoza, which is on the reverse side of the Cordilleras. From thence I went to Santo Fe, and from thence to Buenos Ay res. From thence I went to Monte Video, and from thence to Rio. When I left Australia I went to Panama, and then to New York. I had a particular reason for going to New York, which was that then I could go nowhere else unless I went viâ California. I had waited at California for the French boat, but as she had not arrived at the date fixed for her sailing, and as my family were getting sickly, I would not wait any longer, but started for New York. I had been at Panama in the whole three weeks. I stayed about a month in New York. I stayed at the Clarendon Hotel, Fourth Avenue, in New York. When there I drew bills upon Drummonds, the London bankers. I had no account there, but I should have had if I had my own when I returned to England, and I should have remitted the money to them to pay the bills. The bills were drawn upon Drummonds; they were not drawn in a manner for Drummonds to pay them unless I had paid in the money. Drummonds had never been my bankers. I discounted one or two of the smaller bills. I cannot tell the names of the persons with whom I discounted those bills, but I have no doubt my solicitor can. Some of those bills when they became due were not paid; some were. I have been sued on some, if not on all of those bills.

Q. Do you remember any particular circumstance connected with yourself on board La Pauline?—Nothing of a very serious character. I met with a slight accident—that is, I received a blow an the eye from an albatross.

Q Was it on the wing!—No, on the deck. It occurred when pulling in the albatross by a line by which it had been caught; it was a slight accident, and passed away rapidly.

Q. Do you recollect anything of singularity occurring on board La Pauline?—NO.

Q. Can you give us a descripton of the shipwreck of tho Bella?—Ask me questions, and I will answer them.

Q. Can you repeat now the account of your shipwreck as stated in your affidavit?—I could if i liked, but I will answer questions if you will put them.

Q. When were the boats hoisted out?—At about half-past ten a.m. The boat that was destroyed was on the left-hand side of the vessel. 1 don't know on what tack the ship was. I cannot tell you much about the Bella, as I was not on deck till the morning of the leak. I am at times subject to sea-sickness. I was notsea-sick at that time. I stayed below because I was tipsy. I was tipsy on and off during the whole of the four days I was on board. I was tipsy when I went on board.

Q. Had you recovered when they discovered the leak?—That was the first morning that I came up on deck.

Q. Where was the leak?—I do not know.

Q. What sort of a ship was the Bella?—They called her a ship. Whether there was any technical name for her I don't know. I don't know what her rig was. I believe she was ship-rigged.

Q. How many officers were there on board of her?—Two, I think.

Q. What, besides the captain?—I don't know how many there were; the crew was composed of, I should think, 16 or 17 men.

Q. Have you ever seen or had any communication with any of the officers or crew of the Bella since you arrived in Melbourne—No; though I have made every possible attempt to find them, and I have spent a large sum of money in such attempts.

Q. Be so good as to tell us what attempts you have made?—They have been made by my solicitor, and I have paid for it. I have employed a person to go round England and Scotland to try and find some of them. All that was since I landed in England.

Q. Do you remember what provisions were put into the boats after the wreck?—There wera some barrels and bags of biscuits, some preserved provisions, and some water.

Q. Any wearing apparel of yours besides what you had on?—No, none. I had just left my cabin and come upon deck when I heard of the leak. I was too excited to attempt to save anything. I never returned to the cabin at all. I had a little money in the cabin, to the value of some £20 or £30, but 1 cannot recollect the amount. There was in the cabin, I think one bill or letter of credit, I don't know what you call it, on Glyn's agent in New York; I don't remember the amount of—it was for a trifling sum, not more than £300. T was at Rio when I received that bill or letter of credit. I wrote to have £1,000 sent to me in New York. I got the bill or letter of credit from, I think, Glyn's agent at Ilio but I won't be sure. I paid the expenses of travelling in South America from the amount I took with me and from money T received. I received money from Glyn's bank. Glyn's were my bankers before I left England. I had an account there. On my return to England I did not.go to Glyn's. Of course, there would be a balance at Glyn's in my favour.

Q. Was it not very strange that you did not go and ask Glyn's for the money?—If I choose to do strange things it has nothing to do with you. If you ask me questions I will answet them.

Q. Why did you not go to Glyn's?—My reason was that I was run down and branded as an impostor in the public papers before I arrived in England.

Q. Did you personally know any members of Glyn's house?—Yes; I know ono Mr. Glyn, who was a member of that firm.

Q. Before you left England were you in the habit of drawing checks on the firm?—Yes.

Q. Did it never occur to you since you came back to draw upon Glyn's?—No, it did not.

Q When you were in Australia you knew that you had this balance at Glyn's?—I knew I had a £1,000 coming to me, and I expected that it would be paid to my account at Glyn's year after year.

Q. When you were in difficulties in Australia did it not occur to you to send over to Glyn's for money?—No, it did not; I never intended to do so.

Q. Were you ever m gaol in Australia?—Never.

Q. What business did you follow beside that of a breaker-in of horses and a butcher?—I rode the mail. I was not a sawyer. When I was a butcher I occasionally acted as a slaughterman when nobody else was handy to do it. I cannot say that before 1865 I ever mentioned the story of the shipwreck to anyone in Australia. I don't remember whether I ever mentioned it to Mr. Foster. 1 may have done so. I believe that before my marriage I mentioned it to my wife and her brother-in-law, but I did not give any names. I did not tell my wife before my marriage that I was Sir Roger Tichborne. I did not seek out Mr. Cubitt, mentioned in paragraph 48 of my affidavit, in this suit. I did not originally seek him out, because I heard matters against him; afterwards I heard the contrary, and the manager of the City Bank sent in word to call on me. I think it was in September, 1865, that I first heard of the advertisements. I was then at Wagga Wagga. On hearing of them I at first did nothing at all. I continued at Wagga Wagga till the following June. I then went to Goulbourn. I went there with the intention of starting for England, but not direct; from thence I went to Sydney. I myself paid the expenses of the ourney out of my own money.

Q The proceed of your business?—I am not going to tell you; the money was advanced hrough Mr. Gibbs from Mr. Cottee.

Q. Can you give me a description of the Osprey?— It was a large vessel; I don't know of what rig; I think she had three masts. I cannot he certain that the vessel's name was the Osprey. I was on board a good while. I don't know to what port she belonged; she had boats on deck; I don't know how many boats were on deck, and I cannot tell you the names of any of the officers or men on board the Osprey, except only the name of the captain, which was Lewis Owen or Owen Lewis. I don't think I saw any newspapers on my arrival at Melbourne. I don't know of any account of the wreck, and of any one being saved, except that Mr. Cottee said that he remembered seeing something of the kind. Mr. Cottee said that in May, 1866. I was speaking to him about the wreck, and some being saved from it, when he said he had seen something about it in the papers. He is still endeavouring to find the papers, I do not remember whether there were any passengers on board La Pauline except myself and my servant; besides my servant and myself I don't remember that there was any English person on board. I passed my time on board with various amusements. I used to read a good bit, but I don't remember any particular book. I don't remember how many books I had with me. I think I went direct from Havre to Valparaiso, but I cannot be certain. I don't remember touching at any intermediate port. I made my will before I left England. My then solicitor was Mr. Slaughter. I gave him instructions for it in writing. I corresponded with him a good deal on the subject. I think that that correspondence commenced from Portobello. near Dublin, I saw Mr. Slaughter in London upon the subject. He fully explained to me the nature of my interests in the various estates in which I was interested; lie wrote to me letters, but I don't know what has become of those letters unless they were stolen with other things from my mother's trunks at Winchester. To the best of my belief I left the letters in England. The will was settled by counsel; by Mr. Bun-owes, who is now living at Croydon. I had conferences with Mr. Burrowes on the. subject of this will. The first place that I remember to have resided at in Paris was the hue de la Madeleine. I remained there till I was 15. I did not always Jive in the same house, but I cannot exactly tell you the other houses where else I lived, except that I lived in the Rue St. Honore, near the Louvre, but I cannot remember the number. I think, but 1 cannot be certain, that the house in the Rue St. Honore was the last house where I resided in Paris. I did not go to school in Paris. I had a tutor, M. Chatillon, a Frenchman. He could peak just a little English, a few words. He and I communicated in lYench. I cannot say when ho first became my tutor. I don't remember whether I was then seven years old, but I think it was before I was nine. He was my tutor to the end of my residence in Paris. He did not reside in our house. I think not. I don't remember having any instructor before M. Chatillon. He taught mo to read and write in French. I think he taught me a little Latin, i don't remember whether he taught me any Greek. He taught me mathematics—general school education. I don't remember any of the Latin books I read with him. I really don't remember what he did teach mo during my residence at Parts. My family went sometimes to and fro from Paris to England. I don't remember whether my mother went; ray father may have gone. I came over in 1845, on my uncle's death, with my father.

Q. Do you remember going to England and back again to Paris in the interval between 1829 and 1845?—I remember that I went on several occasions, but J cannot state when, or who went with me. I think I went to Upton and Tichborne. I cannot say at what time of year I ever went there. I don't recollect whether there were any juvenile parties given when I went there. I don't remember any person in particular of my family on those occasions. I would be sure to see them all. I don't remember going to the theatre when in England. I remember making a tour in France with M. Chatillon. I don't remember how long I was away on that tour, but J think only a fortnight or three weeks. I cannot tell you in what part of France we made that tour. I cannot tell you the name of one single place we went to. I don't remember any particular circumstances occurring during that tour. I don't remember that there was any* third person with u.s. I don't remember whether we went to hotels or stayed at private houses. I don't remember how we travelled; it happened many years ago. I cannot tell you a single thing that I saw or a single thing that I did on that tour. I don't remember my playmate? or associates when I was in Paris. I say I don't remember a thing. I say that when I am not positive of the fact—I am on my oath. I do not remember at the present time the name of any one associate or playmate in Paris.

Q. But just try to remember?—This is no place to remember.

Q. Cannot yon remember any boy whom you used to play with?— I have answered that question before.

Q. Did you learn to dance in Paris?—Yes, I learnt to dance there.

Q. Cannot you tell me the name of any young lady that you used to dance with?—If I could I would not. I do not consider it a proper question.

Q. Can you tell us her Christian name?—I have answered that question. I do not remember it.

Q. Do you remember the names of any of the servants in any of your father's residences in Paris?—Only one; he was named William Burden, but I am not certain how the name was spelt. I cannot just now remember the name of any other servant. I don't remember the Christian or surname. When a boy I very likely walked about the Tuileries Garden, but I don't recollect with whom.

Q. Do you remember the name of any single person with whom you had. any conversation m Paris besides your father and mother and Mr. Chatillon?—Yes.

Q. Who?—If you ask me that I can tell you hundreds.

Tell me some—I don t remember any at the present time.

Q. Can you tell me the name of any person you saw in Paris besides? —A gentleman named Blunt, and another named Callaghan.

Q. Who are they?—I think they are both bankers.

Q. Lid you see them both in Paris before 1845?—Yes. L also saw a Mr. Turville; he was a friend of my father's I don't know what he was. I don't know whether ho resided in Paris. I sometimes visited in houses at Paris, but I cannot now remember the name of the occupiers. After I came to England in 1845 I went to Stonyhurst College I stayed there, I think about three years. I was not under the care of any one in particular there, as I know. I don't just now remember the names of any of the masters or teachers there. I don't remember who was the principal or head of the College. I learnt a little Latin there. I don't remember what books I read there—not any one of the books, I don't remember the name of the Latin master. I don't remember whether I did or not learn any Greek at Stonyhurst. I don't remember what mathematics I learnt there. I went through the general college education. I don't remember what the course was. There were examinations there, but I don't remember how often they were held. I cannot say about how many students there were with me there. The students were divided into classes. I don't remember how many were in my class. I cannot remember any one person in my class. I remember the names of Petre and of Arundell as of two young men in the college, but I do not know whether they are now Lord Petre and Lord Arundell. I have not inquired into the fact. One of the priests there at the same time with me was named Walmsley. When in South America I wrote not only to my father and Mr. Gosford, but also to Mrs. Seymour. My last letter to her was from Buenos Ayres. I do not remember writing to anyone else.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine on behalf of the plaintiff.—I had, before I changed my name to Castro, known intimately a person so named; his Christian name was "Tomas." I had known him in Melipilla, which is about 50 or 60 miles from Valparaiso. I was his guest for a while at Melipilla, which is in Chili. There are no hotels in Melipilla, and he kindly invited me to stay with him, which I did for about three weeks. There is a person whom I know who also was a guest at Castro's. My wife came over from Australia with me, and is in England. We have two children; one came over with us, the other has been bom since we were in this country. When in Australia I was a good deal in the saddle, we.hunted the kangaroos, the emue, and the dingo (a native dog). I was always fond of sport of that kind. I was a very good shot. I used to make hunting and shooting expeditions into the interior, and was often absent by myself for a month at a time. I have been in the mountains four months at one time without seeing the face of any human being. I was on horseback. I was very fond of that sort of expeditions; they were my principal hobby after my arrival in Australia. I have been of very temperate habits for years, not touching wine or spirits. Before I went to Australia I was not intemperate, but would sometimes take a glass too much. I once met with an accident to my head; it was on the 24th of December, 1864. I came home in a hurry. I found that certain orders which 1 had given had not been carried out, and I went out in a passion, and, forgetting that I had loosened the girths to cool the horse, I jumped on it and set off, and some one passing me my horse started. In trying to pull him up I pulled the saddle over his head. I fell on my head on a newly metalled road, a stone cut my forehead and face, and broke the bridge of my nose, from which two pieces of bone were extracted by Dr. Robinson of Wagga Wagga. This accident had a little effect on my head, but I do not think that it affected me mentally. My head was much affected after the wreck of the Bella. The wreck occurred during warm weather. After the wreck I was very often out of my mind. It was on the morning of the fourth day after the wreck that I was picked up. There was no difficulty in keeping the boat afloat; but, of course, she had to be baled out; that was done by using, a preserved meat can. I remember that, as I generally baled the water out myself. The Osprey was larger than the Bella—that is, she appeared to be so. I do not know what the tonnage of the Bella was, but the Osprey appeared to be larger. When on board the Osprey I passed several days before I knew anything that had occurred. The Osprcy had passed us a good bit, and the sailors had given up rowing, thinking it was of no use, when one of them hoisted up a shirt on an oar, and the Osprey observed it; but I do not remember what occurred after the hoisting up of the shirt. At the present moment I do not remember the name of any priest or pupil at 8 tony hurst with me except Petre, Arundeli, and Walmsley. I was speaking of the whole the other day, but I do not remember their names at present. I have recognized none in this room whom I recognize as having known before I left England. I recognize Mrs. Greenwood. I had not seen her before to-day since I left England for South America. I recognized Quartermaster Eraser here a little time ago. I had not seen him before to-day since I loft England for South America. I had no reason to believe that I should see them or either of them here to-day. Fraser was here with Polhill. Fraser was a quartermaster in the Carabineers. I have seen here John Moore; he went out with me from Havre in La Pauline. There was a person here with Moore to-day who was living in Valparaiso when I was there. Moore I saw at Croydon. Since I returned to England I saw a person whom I believe to be the Mr. Burrowes who had to do with my will. I saw him coming out of the train, and I recognized him. I have had no communication whatever with him. Since my return to Europe I saw Mr. Chatillon in Pans. That was in the presence of the Dowager Lady Tichborne. I now recollect that my tour with Mr. Chatillon was in Brittany. I recollect that on that tour I was climbing up some rocks and fell down and cut my head, at some place sounding like ' Ponnic.' There is a mark, the result of that fall, remains on my head. I pointed out to Mr. Chatillon where I believed the mark to be That mark is there now. That mark has since been seen by a medical gentleman. Since I was examined yesterday I have carried my memory back to the period when I was at College. I remember the names of more fellow-collcgians and priests than I did yesterday—such as Mr. Cann. lie was a priest. Clough he, too, was a priest, but I am uncertain how the word is spelt."

Mr. Dobinson's cross-examination continued: I recollect the plaintiff pronouncing the name Clough as Clow. Lord Arundell was there. I cannot speak as to Mr. Edward Arundell, but J know that Mr. Bird was there. The plaintiff did not appear to recognize them either, or Lady Doughty. I don't remember whether Mr. Alfred Seymour was close to him at the time. The commission was not sent out to Chili till more than a year afterwards. A great many affidavits were filed on the part of the plaintiff in the proceedings in Chancery. Mr. Holmes has not told me that copies of them were sent out to Chili. Only formal affidavits, I believe, were filed on behalf of the defendant. The letters produced are in the writing of Mr. Holmes, the solicitor. They are in Spanish, aud addressed to Don Pedro Castro, Melipilla, Chili.

The Solicitor-General read the order for their translation. The letters, he said, appeared to have been retained by the Chili Commission, and there was some difficulty about their being produced and read in court.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that as they bore a stamp, it might be taken that they had been accurately translated, and therefore he would offer no objection to their being read.

The Solicitor-General: I will read them, then, and ask the witness if he is aware they were circulated.

Mr. Giffurd thought the proper time had not arrived for the letters to be read. They should be put in evidence during the examinatiou-in-cliief, and not be read during the cross-examination of a witness.

The Solicitor-General: Had the claimant, in July, 1868, completely gained Ms suit in the Court of Chancery, and had only to proceed in the other courts to end the proceedings.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to this question, and his lordship thought the answer need not be received.

Cross-examination continued: It is not true that either I or any of the agents of the party adverse have done anything to suppress the truth of the affidavits, or that I said, " We had no scruples, and would stick at nothing, so as to prevent him from obtaining his just rights."

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine raised another objection as to the witness Iming crossexamined in this manner. Questions of the kind might be put when the learned gen tleman called Mr. Dobinson as a witness on his behalf. The real point was, was that gentleman to be considered as a witness for the claimant at the present stage of the proceedings.

The Chief-Just ice thought the question need not be pressed.

Cross-examination continued: I entered into a correspondence with Mr. Holmes for the purpose of bringing about a meeting of the members of the family, so that the claimant might be the more easily recognized.

The following letters were then read:—

57, Lincoln's Inn Fields, Feb. 22, 1867.

Dew Sir, —In our letter to you of the 7th January last we stated that your client whom you designate as Sir Roger Tichborne, would doubtless be received by the Tichborne family with open arms upon his identity with the eldest son of the late Sir James Tichborne being established.

In the instance of Mr. Dauby Seymour only has your client been allowed to have an interview with any member of the Tichborae family other than the Dowager Lady Tichborne, and then an appointment was made for a renewed interview on the following day, which was not kept by your client; and again another appointment was made for the day succeeding, which in like manner proved fruitless: Thus your client has held himself not only aloof, but in secret, from all whom he claims as his relatives, except the Dowager Lady Tichborne.

It would seem to any candid mind that the issue is a very simple one

It is not a question of remote or intricate pedigree, but of mere personal identity the times being of the most recent date.

When Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne left this country he was 24 years of age; he had lived on the most intimate and affectionate and familiar intercourse with numerous friends and relatives; there are scores of persons now living who could identify him to a certainty. The great majority of his relatives have no pecuniary interest in the issue whether he be dead or living; they are persons of position and honour; irrespective of mere fortune, far above all possibility of being influenced by any other than honourable motives. There is not, and there cannot be, any reason why members of such a family should not only readily, but eagerly acknowledge the identity of a relative long supposed to be lost, and himself the representative and head of a family of distinction and fortune.

To our minds it seems an imperative duty to try every means of preventing litigation when litigation ought not to exist; if you feel your client's claims to he well founded you will not hesitate in permitting him to meet the relatives and friends with whom Mr. R. C. Tichbornc lived and associated from early youth to the time of his leaving this country. We require such a meeting on behalf of those whom we represent, and it is a necessity, as we conceive, that your client submit to such requirement. He may surround himself with every protection and aid you think necessary on his behalf, counsel, solicitor, and friends, choosing time and place; but if he still after this offer refuses to meet those who are best able to form an opinion of his pretensions he must expect to have them dealt with as groundless and wholly unworthy of credit. We hope, however, you will avail yourself of our suggestion, and make arrangements for an early meeting We are, dear sir, yours truly.

DOBINSON AND GEARE.

Jour, Holmes, Esq., solicitor, 25, Poultry.

(Tichborne.)

25, Poultry, London, E.C., Fob. 28, 1867.

Dear Sir,—In your communication to me of the 7th of January you stated that my client "would doubtless be received by the Tichborne family with open arms upon his identity with the eldest son of the late Sir James Tichborne being established," but in that of the 25th of January you state, " Our instructions are to deny emphatically that your client is the person he represents himself to be, and to leave him to adopt such measures as he thinks proper."

In your letter of the 22nd inst., the receipt of which I beg to acknowledge, you refer to that of the 7th of January, and state, "To our minds it seems an imperative duty to try every means of preventing litigation," and, further, " Jf you feel your client's claims to be well founded you will not hesitate in permitting him to meet the relatives and friends with whom Mr. R. C. Tichborne lived and associated from early youth to the time of his leaving this country." You appear altogether to ignore the fact that Sir Roger Tichborne has already been fully identified as the eldest son of the late Sir James Tichborne by those with whom my client lived and associated from early youth until he left England, and who could not possibly be mistaken as to his identity, and I may add by those who have no personal interest one way or the other.

As you have overlooked the important fact, allow me to remind you that upon his return to this country Sir Roger went to Paris, and in the first instance visited his mother the Dowager Lady James Tichborne. and that she instantly recognized him; of this your clients are well aware. Again, Mr. Hopkins, of Alresford, who acted as solicitor for Sir Roger and his father^ has most. unreservedly identified him and written to Lord Arundell and Mr. Dan by Seymour informing them of the fact. Mr F. J. Baigent, of Winchester, an old friend of the family, and many of the tenants, servants, and friends to whom my client was well known in his youth have also identified him.

Surely, after this abundant proof that my client, is Sir Roger, the eldest son of Sir James Tichborne, it is idle to talk of any further identification being required?

I have called your attention to the course taken by Sir Roger in visiting, in the first instance, his own mother, and then his family solicitor and old friends, tenants, and servants, and I may reasonably ask who it is "the Tichborne family" would suggest as being better qualified than the mother of Sir Roger to establish the identity of my client.

But, now, allow me to remind you of what has been done by, or on the part of, those interested in denying his identity. As soon as they were informed of his arrival in England they caused him to be hunted, and traced his footsteps, broke in upon his privacy, and watched his every movement, as.if he had been an impostor; and, not satisfied with that, the press was even influenced to denounce him as such. I know of nothing so painful as the position in which Sir Roger has been placed by being thus treated. Is there the slightest ground for palliation of such conduct, or for doubting the object which they who pursued it had in view? it was continued towards him even after he had placed himself under my protection.

Sir Roger and his mother, Lady Tichborae, are now and since her return from Paris have been living in the same house at Croydon. I have submitted your letter of the 22nd instant to them, and am instructed to say that they feel indignant at the disgraceful conduct referred to Sir Roger will certainly hold those who persisted in it responsible to him. I cannot for a moment believe that you have been privy to it, and I should be glad to be informed that it has not been known to or countenanced by any of your clients.

As soon as possible after the receipt of your letter of the 25th of January instructions were laid before counsel with the object of instituting immediate proceedings to establish my client's rights; but in consequence of your last letter they will be delayed for a week, in the hope that, after the facts I have brought to your notice, such rights will be admitted by your clients without suit. I fully agree with you that in so clear a case a this litigation ought not to exist if it can be avoided.

On the part of my client I insist that his identity has already been sufficiently and fully established At the same time I request to bo informed the names of those members of the ''Tichborne family," for whom you are acting, and who, if any one, is better qualified to estatyish the Identity of Sir Roger than his own mother; and I must expressly stipulate that your clients shall use their influence to prevent a repetition of the annoyances so justly complained of.

With regard to your remark relating to Mr. Danby Seymour, my correspondence with him shows that I was unable to keep his appointments, but tnat there was no disinclination whatever, either on Sir Roger's part or mine, to see him as many times as he wished.—I am, dear sir, yours truly,

Messrs. Dobinson and Geare, 57, Lincoln's Inn Fields, W.C,

JOHN HOLMES.

57, Lincoln's Inn Fields, March 5, 1867.

Dear Sir,—We deny that your client "has already heen fully identified as the son of the late Sir James Tichborne by those with whom ho lived and associated from early youth until he left England," because we know that some of the persons best able to identify him positively assert that your client is not Sir Roger Charles Tichborne, and many others equally able to speak to his identity have not seen your client.

It is you who appear to shut your eyes to the fact that no evidence or attempt at evidence has been offered to those most interested in the result to prove any circumstances showing that Mr. it. C. Tichborno, was saved from shipwreck, or that your client, Mr. Thomas Castro, is in fact, the person he represents himself to be; and if he fails to do so, it follows he can only be looked upon as answering to the expression used in your letter.

You offer, certainly, a long array of witnesses to dispossess the heir to an ancient title and large estates. It appears to us, however, not unreasonable to say you must much increase their number before you can hope to succeed.

We are not aware of your client having been "hunted," as you term it, nor do we believe tnere has been the smallest attempt to use or influence the press, unless it be by Mr. Castro and his friends.

Your letter brings nothing to our notice that shakes for an instant the settled conviction that your client, Mr. Castro, is not the same person as Roger Charles Tichborne.

We believe we have before told you that we are acting for the infant, Sir Henry Ticnborne, and his guardians, the Hon. William Stourton and the Hon. Lady Ticbborne.

We made you the most free and unrestricted offer for arranging an interview between your client and some members and friends of the Tichborne family. Is there any person in par ticular whom your client is desirous of not meeting? If so, perhaps the presence of such person might be dispensed with. —We are, dear sir, yours truly,

DOBINSON AND GEARE.

John Holmes, Esq., Solicitor, 25, Poultry.

25, Poultry, London, E.C., March 14, 1867.

Dear Sirs,—I delayed replying to your letter of the 5th inst. because I intended to bring about a meeting between Sir Roger Tichborne and members of bis family at the first opportunity which presented itself.

On account of the state of feeling in tho family that was a matter of much delicacy and difficulty.

The result of a long discussion which took place between Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe, Mr. Greenwood, and myself at Alresford was that it was agreed my client should he treated with every consideration by them, and they should meet him at Tichborne. llis health, however, prevented him from going there, and Mr. and Mrs. Rad'liffe and Mrs. Townley called upon him and spent an hour with him on the 8th inst. at Essex Lodge, Croydon, where Sir Hoger is living with his mother, the Dowager Lady James Tichborne. Unfortunately for my efforts with a view to peace, Mr. and Mrs. Radciiffe and Mrs. Townley refused to see her Ladyship, and Sir Roger was placed in consequence in a most painful position.

The next day Mr. Radcliffe wrote me a letter, in which, so far from denying, he tacitly admits that my client is Sir Roger Tichborne, and asks for another interview for himself and the two ladies, in order that they might be " quite certain."

Mr. Gosford, who wont to Croydon with them, hut did not go to the house, called upon me on the 9th inst., and told me that Mrs. RadelifTe recognized Sir Roger by his eyes, eyebrows, and the shape of his forehead, &c., and certainly none of the party could declare that it was not him. I promised Mr. Gosford to bring about an interview between himself and Sir Roger as soon as possible.

I replied to Mr. Radcliffe's note and stated that Sir Roger would be happy to see his aunt, Lady Doughty, as well as the other two ladies, and I placed my house at their disposal to meet at, so as to avoid tho unpleasantness of their refusing to see the dowager, and intimated that I should not be present. I sent tho letter by Thomas Carter, who was Sir Roger's groom up to within a few days of his leaving England in 1853, and offered that any questions might he put to Carter. Mr. R.idclilTe wrote me on the 11th inst., and said that the ladies would go again to Croydon in company with Lady Doughty, and asked me for an appointment. I answered. fixing the next day at three. On that morning Mr. Radcliffe sent me another letter, shating that the ladies would not go until Wednesday; I therefore sent a telegram to Sir Roger, and postponed the appointment.

To my great surprise, however, when I arrived homo on Tuesday evening, I found that Mr. Radoliffe and threo ladies went to my house on the afternoon of that day, and insisted upon seeing Sir Roger. Of course, ho was not there; but my wife offered to send for him. Air. Rad iiifo himself wbnt to Essex Lodge, and Sir Roger directly accompanied him to my house, for the purpose, as he thought, of seeing Lady Doughty and his cousins, Mrs. Radcliffe and Mrs. Townley. To his amazement, however, when he entered my dining-room, Mr. Radcliffe became very excited, quested my wife to retire, and asked him whom the eldest lady in the room was. bhe was closely veiled, and Sir Roger said ho could not see her face. When at his request she put her veil back and stood up, he stated he did not know her. The whole party commenced a tirade of abuse at Sir Roger, and he, after expressing his astonishment at such conduct following upon the arrangement Air. Radcliffe made with me, at once left the room, declining to submit to audi treatment. The interview, therefore, only lasted a few minutes. Mrs. Radcliffe was not present at it, but called after all parties had left.

The three ladies had not the common politeness to announce their names to my wife, although they were with her more than half an hour, and during the time Mr. Radcliffe was gone for Sit Roger they freely indulged themselves in calling him an impostor, and assured Mrs. Holms that he was an Australian navvy. The youngest lady could only have been a girl when Sir Roger lefr England. My wife told the eldest that she was thickly veilod, and no one could see her features The third lady was Mrs. Townley.

Mr. Radcliffe wrote me a letter yesterday, and I replied complaining of the trick he had practised and of ins breaking faith with me. Copies of these letters are enclosed for your perusal.

need not say how sincerely I regret, for the sake of all parties, that such improper conduc has heen pursued towards my client; but I am sure the Court will condemn it.

Every disinterested witness who has seen and conversed with him, and they are now very numerous, is perfectly convinced that he is Sir Roger Tichborne.

I had no hesitation whatever in permitting interviews with Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe Lady Doughty, and Mrs. Townley; but certainly did not expect any trick would be attempted or any confidence abused.

Mr. and Mrs. and Colonel George Greenwood have had invitations to meet Sir Roger but they have not responded to them.—I am, yours truly,

JOHN HOLMES.

Messrs. Dobinson and Geare.

57, Lincoln's Inn Fields, March 18, 1867,

Dear Sir,—We have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 14th inst.

We can readily understand that you feel extremely disconcerted by the result of the interview to which you refer.

We wrote you long sinco proposing in the most unrestricted terms a mooting between members of the Tichborne family and your client. Instead of accepting or rejecting our proposal, it now appears from your letter that you have been personally engaged in negociating meetings with members of the family themselves, and when they, as the natural consequence arising from a personal interview, and after full opiiortunity of arriving at a definite opinion, tell your elient to his face that he is not the person he represents himself to be, you make a fierce attack upon the whole party for presuming to entertain an independent opinion.

We suppose, if the interview had turned out satisfactorily, we should then have had our proposal for a meeting accepted.

Mr. Radcliffe explained to you in his letter that lio had accidentally omitted to state the day on which we would call. What possible difference that could make to Mr. Casrro we cannot understand, unless, indeed, he required to be furnished with ttie names of the persons intending to call, in order that ho might preparo himself accordingly.

The account we have received of the interview is quite .at variance with your description of it, received of course, from your client.—We are. dear sir. yours truly.

John Holmes, Esq., Solicitor, 25, Poulty.

DOBINSON AND GEARE.

The following letters passed between Mr. Radeliffe and Mr. Holmes:—

S. Kensington Hotel, March 12, 1867.

Dear Sir,—After the second letter received from you to-day (by which I perceive I omitted naming Wednesday) we thought it better to go at once to Croydon.

We had an interview with your client, and are all thoroughly convinced that ho is not Sir Roger Ticliborne; and this, not only because we failed to recognize Roger Tichborae in liini, but because he evidently did not recognize his nearest relations.

I beg, again, to thank Mrs. Holmes for her courtesy to the ladies at her house. — Yours truly,

J. Holmes, Esq.

J. P. RADCLIFFE.

25, Poultry, E.C., March 13, 1867.

Dear Sir,—The way in which you and the three Ladies who were with you yesterday behaved In the few minutes Sir Roger Tichborne condescended to see yon was an entire breach of the arrangement we made at Alresford. and could only result in his withdrawing himself. I regret it very much, because, after what Mr. Gosford told me on Saturday, it is certain that if Sir Roger had been treated by you and your party with even common civility, the litigation which must ensue would be entirely avoided. However, neither my client nor myself can now be blamed. You did wrong in going to my house without a previous appointment, or in taking any one respecting whom we had not arranged.

My wife was surprised that neither of the three ladies favoured her with their names. Their remarks while you were gone to fetch Sir Roger were altogether unjustifiable, for they had not then seen him.

I am very sorry indeed that your attempted surprise upon Sir Roger, and manner of treating mm were as unfair as the conduct pursued towards him by his family since he arrived in bngland. But the same spirit evidently animates all those to whose interest it is that he should not succeed.

It is, however, a great satisfaction to Sir Roger to know that the Court will disapprove the conduct complained of, and that in the end his rights, which are founded in truth, must prevail.—I am, yours truly,

JOHN HOLMES.

J. P. Radcliffe, Esq.

To the last letter an answer was returned on the 18th March by my firm, explaining that Mr. Radcliffe had accidentally omitted to state the day on which he would call; but what possible difference that could make to Mr. Castro they could not understand, unless, indeed, he required to be furnished with the names of the persons intending to call, in order that he might prepare himself accordingly. The account they had received of the interview was quite at variance with his (Mr. Holmes's) description of it. There were no further attempts to procure interviews, and the case was allowed to proceed.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: I used the word "impostor" during an interview with Mr. Holmes. I remember asking him if he was satisfied that his client was an impostor, and his answer was, " Pretty well so." There was no reserve about it. I have not a shadow of doubt he implied that his client was an impostor, and I believe he stated that he was taking steps to indict him accordingly. I was instructed to deny that the claimant was Sir Roger Tichborne. I never wrote a line to the newspapers that had not my name appended to it. I think I wrote a letter to the papers in April. I remember Mr. Whicher, a private detective, being employed shortly after the plaintiff' arrived in this country. I have paid him, partly, but cannot name the amount. I think, however, that he has been paid about £200 altogether. There may be something due now. I did not Bend him to Paris, and I cannot say whether he went there. I have heard that he did. He was paid, as the lawyers say, quantum meruit, and nothing more. All that we have paid him has been sanctioned by the Vice-Chancellor.

Mr. Giffard: How was the purpose for which Wicher was employed described?— Witness: I can't tell you the precise language used. I can't tell the sum in the account given as paid to Whicer. He is still in our employment. The relatives of Roger Tichborne were brought to the Law Institute by the opponent of the claim.

Mr. Giffard: Did you hear a protest made by Mr. J ustice Hannen against the mode in which Sir Roger Tiohborne was being treated by the persons crowding round him? Witness: To the best of my recollection I did not.

Mr. Giffard then read a protest made by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine against then in which Sir Roger was crowded, pressed, and stared at by those round him, and Mr. Hannen (now Mr. Justice) also said, " I add my protest against it."

Witness: I did not remember that Mr. Hannen said that.

Re-examination resumed: Several old servants were brought to the Law Institute in order to recognize the plaintiff. There might have been 200 or 300 people in the Court.

Mr. Giffard: Was it not at that time part of your case that the plaintiff was really a person of the name of Case?—Witness: No, it was not.

Mr. Giffard: Was there not a Mrs. Case, from Poole, present at the inquiry?— Witness: I don't know.

Mr. Giffard: Did you ever see her?—Witness: No, I did not. We sent out a person of the name of Mackenzie to Australia. He had, I believe, been brought up to the law in Scotland. He wrote to one of our solicitors. He was employed to collect evidence for us. He had been in Australia before, and had returned. He went out with the sanction of Vice-Chancellor Stuart. I mean by that we obtained the sanction of the Court to send out an agent to make inquiries at the expense of the estate. I never authorised Mr. Mackenzie to state that he was collecting evidence for the Vice-Chancellor. I told him that he was being sent out with the sanction of the Vice-Chancellor. We had no correspondent in Australia till long after that. Mr. Mackenzie gave us a list of the persons whose evidence he obtained. I think he examined about 120 witnesses on the Australian commission, and he might have given us a few more names. I am sure we were not supplied with 50 more names, nor anything approaching that number. We employed a person named Chevarro Barro, at Valparaiso, before the issue of the Australian commission. He was employed through the Chilian Consul in London. I don't know how many members of the family had seen the claimant before I wrote the letter of the 25th January, 1867,1 can't say whether any of them, except his mother, had.

James M'Cann was then recalled, and examined by Mr. Giffard: That is the letter which Mr. Bowker wrote to me on the 30th March. 1867.

Letter read as follows:—

To Mr. M'Cann:

Sir —I have just received a letter from Major Phillips, and he has seen the person calling himself Sir Roger Tichborne, The major could not recognize him, and he could not answer any questions about the regiment which lie put. The major is confident that he is an impostor. As you spoke so highly about the major, I thought you would care to know liis ideas. I hope you are in better health, &c.

Before, when I had visited him, he had mentioned Major Phillips, who is alluded to in the letter. I have seen Sir Roger Tichborne several times since that time. I have not the slightest doubt that he is my old master.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: The moment he stood up in the room I recognized him as my old master. I will not be sure he spoke, but I fancy he said as he was getting up, "Well, M'Cann, how are you?" I recognized him from his forehead, head, and ears. His ears I knew well by seeing him in bed every morning for two years. I did not mention the eare in the affidavit, not knowing they were required. There is nothing extraordinarily particular about the ears that I know of, only I knew them. (Laughter.) I don't know I could have recognized him from his ears if I had seen nothing else. (Laughter.) He had a heavy twitching of the eyebrows and a plain narrow forehead. I recognized him also by his voice when he said, "Well, M'Cann, how are you?" I can swear I recognized him before he got up from his chair.

Mr. Hawkins: Is it true, upon your oath, you recognized him as he was rising from his chair and before he spoke?

Witness: It is true. He is a great deal stouter now than Roger Tichborne, who was very slim and narrow-chested, with thin face. (Witness, who appeared to be extremely ill, was here requested by the judge to be seated, and call for wine and water if he wished it.) Mr. Tichborne's height under the standard was between five feet eight and nine. He is about that height now. I thought nothing about his height when I first saw him; perhaps that was one of the things I recognized him by. (Photograph handed to witness.) I can't say that is like the Roger Tichborne whose service I was in in 1853. I don't know it. I can't see that it is like him. It might be like him, but I can't detect any likeness.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I beg to call your lordship's special attention to the particular photograph which had been handed to the witness.

The Chief-Justice: We had better not assume that the photograph is that of any particular person.

Witness (to whom another likeness, a daguerreotype was handed) said: I don't know this either, and it is not the likeness of the Mr. Tichborne with whom I was servant in 1853. It is not like him in any respect. I found there was a great change in his voice when I saw him, as he did not speak the broken English he did when he left. His voice was more the voice of an Englishman than it was when he was in the regiment. I understood him better at Croydon than before he left. At the commencement of being in the army it was difficult for him to make himself understood. His bulk was entirely different when I saw him at Croydon.

Mr Hawkins: And is this (pointing to the claimant.) the very narrow-chested, slim, thin-faced gentleman whom you used to serve?

Witness: Yes, that's him. It was Dr. Moore who bled Mr. Tichborne when he was at Canterbury, and it was under the inside of the ancle. Captain Morton, who was a great friend of Mr. Tichborne's, is dead. General Jones was a friend of his. I cannot say Major Forster was; Colonel Bickerstaff was; Major Phillips, I believe; also Captain Fraser, Major Bott. The last I saw of Mr. Tichborne was about the end of 1852 or the beginning of 1853, and I saw no more of him till March, 1867, at Croydon. I had then left the army, and was living at Maidstone, in no occupation, because I was unable to take one. I knew Thomas Carter, who was Mr. Tichborne's groom when he was in the Carabineers, and he came to me at Maidstone in March, 1867. This he found out by inquiry. I had left the army for more than three years, and had not seen Carter for perhaps ten years. I can't say how Carter found out I was at Maidstone. He came and told me our old master had returned to England and wished to see me at Croydon. He had a note from Mr. Holmes. I have not got it with me here. I might have it somewhere. I'll fish it out if you want it. Carter and I were a few hours together at Maidstone, and we had a conversation about the gentlemen I was to see at Croydon. He told me I should hardly know him he was so altered in appearance, he had got so stout. He did not show me any affidavits that had been made. A few days afterwards I went to Croydon. I went direct to his house from the station. I went with Carter from London by appointment I did not go to Mr. Holmes's before starting for Croydon. Carter had told me at Maidstone he would take me to see my old master. At Croydon there were a good many servants both of Mr. Tichborne's and his mother's, both men and women, who were all strangers. I did not talk long with the claimant that day— perhaps ten minutes. He asked me how I had got on since he left, and how I had lived since my discharge. I told him I was living on my pension and a little money I had had left me. I stopped at Croydon that night, but not at the house. Carter paid my fare from London, and the hotel bill was left unpaid. I saw the claimant next day, and the interview might have lasted an hour, it might have been two hours. I felt very weak as I do now, and T told the butler that I was in the habit of stretching on the bed, and he went and told Sir Roger, w ho asked me to lie 011 the eofa in the smoking-room. I was asked to stop and see Sir Roger on the second day by Mr. Holmes, who wasthere. IstoppedatCroydenlthinkthreedays, and then returned to Maidstone. I was then sent for by Mr. Holmes and went to the claimant s house at Croydon. This was in June, and I stayed there till April, 1868, doing nothing, because I was unable. I saw Mr. Holmes now and then, and might have talked to tun about the old times when Mr. Tichborne was in England. During the whole of th it time Carter was living in the house as servant. Seargeant-Major Quiu came there to see the claimant, but if he entered into his service I never knew it. Quin might have stayed one or two days, but I could not say exactly; he only came to see him. I remember Mr. Rouse. Did not know he kept a public-house at Alresford. I never took any notice of him, knowing nothing of him. There was a man named Bloxliam who used to come, but I cannot say whether he was a frequent visitor or not. The claimant and Carter used to leave Croydon to make excursions into the country, but I did not go eilher to Poole, Maidstone, or Colchester with them. I know he went to various places where troops were quartered, but I cannot tell whom he took with him. I knew he was going into the country to procure affidavits, and that at times Carler went with liiin. I am now living at Brampton. I pay my own rent. I have no allowance from the claimant, nor Mr. Holmes, but live on my pension, what little I had in the savings banks, and what my wife earns. I have not had much money from the plaintiff. The first time I saw him, on leaving him to go home he gave me a sovereign. From right to left, from bottom to top, I can reckon up 3l.—no more; three sovereigns given at three different times. I recollect having a conversation with Major Phillips after first seeing the plaintiff. I do not remember telling Major Phillips that on the first day at Croydon I could not recognize the claimant as my former master. I will swear I did not say the claimant was taller, stouter, larger made, lighter hair, speech different, and altogether a different person from my old master. I might have said to Major Phillips that he was stouter, but not taller; and that the hair was fairer. I might have said if I had met him in the street I should not have known him, he was so altered; I might also have said he looked like a different person. I did not say I did not know him on the first or second day, but began to do so on the third. I do not remember a man named John Coyne. I know the Dowager Lady Tichborne's footmen. I do not remember telling one of them that I did not wonder people should say the claimant was not Mr. Roger Tichborne, as he was not a bit like him except his forehead and voice. I remember Mr. Bowker calling upon me, and I might have said, when telling him I went to Croydon, that I should not have known the claimant was my old master, if I had not been told by Carter that I was to see him. I cannot remember saving that I was sore nobody could recognize him—he was so altered. I might have said that Mr. Tichborne was a thin wisp of a man whom I could take up and put in my pocket.. I did not remember saying that I had been told the claimant had had dropsy, and that that sufficiently accounted to me for the alteration in size. I told Mr. Bowker that I knew biin thoroughly well. I should like to say something about Mr. Bowker's visit, because I can see he has come here as a cheat. I might have said the claimant's speech was different because he had lost several front teeth, but I don't remember. I might have told Mr, Bowkor it was painful to see the meeting of the claimant and his mother as they rushed into each other's arms, both shedding tears. One of the servants had told me so. I can't say that I told Mr. Bowker. I could not rocognizv the claimant from his appearance, but that he knew so much about the regiment that I was convinced.

Re-examined by Serjeant Ballantine: My pension is la. Id. a day, the full pension to which I am entitled after my twenty-one years' service. Mr. Bowker called upon me in Maidstone, and asked me if I had seen the man who called himself 'i ichborne. He asked my opinion about Sir Roger. I told him that I knew him well. He s lid it was very odd, when Major Phillips, his riding-master, did not know him at all. I said I bad been to Mr. Holme-, and told him all I knew about him, and that if he liked I could repeat all I had said; but he kept on talking about the trains, and did not sit down. When I alluded to Mr. Bowker and the cheat, I meant that he came and asked me things that I could not remember. He did not seem pleased that I should know Sir Roger. It was after this I got the letter from Mr. Bowker. I don't remember making more than one statement to Mr. Holmes. When I first saw the claimant he rose, and continued standing till I left him. The more I saw of him the more I became convinced that he was the man.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Just look at him well in court. Have you, on the oath you have taken, any doubt about his person now?—None whatever.

You are seriously ill, you know, and would not tell a falsehood, I should think. Have you really any doubt about it?—None whatever.

As the Court was rising,

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said the Editor of the Pall Mall Gazette had, at an early stage of the proceedings, been summoned before the Vice-Chancellor for an attack in connection with this case. A fine was not inflicted on the promise being given that the extremely offensive character of the article should not be repeated. On Saturday night there was another article in the same paper to which he begged to call his lordship's attention. It was a most cruel persecution that a person while establishing his rights should be subjected to such running comments by a person who had already apologised and been forgiven in consequence. The matter was a great deal more flagrant because they pretty well knew the author of the article, and knew that tho comments were not fair criticism, nor disinterested, nor honest.

The Chief Justice said all he could do was to adopt the course adopted by the Court of Chancery, and treat any matter of the kind calculated to interfere with the course of justice as a question of contempt of Court. There was, however, an abundance of occupation in the present case, and he could not interrupt its progress to inquire whether contempt of court had been committed. That would be an interference with the course of justice almost worse than the paragraph. He sincerely hoped, however, the press would abstain from making such comments as those complained of, and it would, of courso, be competent to any parties who consider themselves aggrieved to apply to the court at the close of the case. He himself, of course, expressed no no opinion upon the particular application which had been made.

The Solicitor-General said he hoped his Lordship's remarks would be considered as applying to both sides. He himself had seen an article in another paper that he much regretted to see.

The Chief Justice hoped the press would abstain from comments calculated to bias the jury. He had read neither article. At the same time, this was a case that had attracted general attention.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

FIFTH DAY.—TUESDAY, MAY 16.

FOURTH DAT OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Colonel Norbury, of the Norest, near Malvern, a Lieutenant-Colonel of the Worcester Militia, and Justice of the Peace for the county of Hereford, examined by llr. Serjeant Balhintine, stated as followsI was formerly in the Carabineers. L joined as a cornet in 1847, the same year that Roger Tichborne joined. I saw him constantly at Dublin. He was between 5ft. 8in. and 5ft. 9in. in height. He had very little (lesh. It is my firm belief that his hair was very much the colour of that man's now (looking at the plaintiff). I heard of his supposed loss and read of his supposed return in the newspapers. I received several letters from Mr. Bowker. This is the first:—

Winchester, Feb. 2, 1867.

Sir,—I have the honour of acting for the Dowager Lady Arundell, her daughter (Lady Ticlifoorrie), and others, the guardians of the present infant baronet, Sir Henry J. D. Tichboroe, in resisting the attempt of a person passing by the name of " Do Castro." who has just arrived from Sydney, and states that he is the long-lost Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne, who, you may recollect, was a cornet with you in the 6th Dragoon Guards. The object of my troubling you is to ask the favour of your informing me of any facts or circumstances that you are aware of that took place, at the mess or otherwise, that Mr. Roger, if alive, could not have forgotten, but that this person cannot be aware of. I am commnnieaiing with many of the officers whom Sir Roger knew, and from each I glean some little fact of importance. Doubtless you knew him well, and could recognize him in a moment. I beg to apologise for thus trespassing, and begging the favour of a line, I have the honour to be, air, your obedient servant,

F. BOWKER.

To that letter Colonel Norbury replied as follows:—

The Norest, near Malvern, Feb. 4, 1867.

Sir I beg to acknowledge the receipt of your latter of the 2nd., respecting the cl$$Unclear$$aimant to the Tichborne title and estates. I have road with great interest the articles that have appeared on the subject in the newspapers, but, from their very conflicting nature, have been quite unable to form an opinion whether the person hiking the claim is really my old brother officer in the Carabineers or an impostor. In either case, I consider your request for any information respecting events which took place in the regiment while we were both in it a very reasonable one, as I cannot see how it could be turned to his disadvantage, should he turn out to be the true man. I will, therefore, write to you jagain in a few days stating any particular circumstances that may occur to me. I have the most perfect recollection of his personal appearance, voice, and manner when in the Carabineers, and do not think I could fail to recognize him now. He certainly in those days looked very little like a man ever likely to be 18 stone weight. I would suggest that the claimant should be confronted with some of his old brother officers, and see whether he can recognize them by name, nickname, or otherwise.

I write in haste to-day, but shall be very happy to give any information in my power in furtherance of truth and justice, on whichever side these may be.

I may probably be in London in about a fortnight, if that would facilitate matters.

You need use no apology for troubling me in this case, as it is one in which I take much interest.—I am, sir, your most obedient servant,

T. C. NORBURY.

S. Bowker, Esq.

My address is Major Norbury, The Norest, near Malvern.

He then received the following letter:—

Winchester, Feb. 5.

Sir,—I have the honour of thanking you for your kind letter of the 4th, relative to Mr. Roger Tichborne.

At the present De Castro will not give us an interview. I am quite of your opinion that his being face to face with you or any of his brother officers would soon unravel the mystery. If you will kindly jot down your recollections, I shall be obliged, and glad to receive them as soon as you can forward them. At the same time, may I ask a favour of your address in twon, as I my have occasion to write to you.—I am,

F. BOWKER.

In reply to this, Colonel Norbury wrote that he would rather communicate by word of mouth than by letter, and that if he could do anything to clear rip this mysterious affair he would be glad to do so.

The next letter from Mr. Bowker was as follows:—

Winchester, March 15, 1867.

Sir,—I take the liberty of informing you how the matter as to Roger Tichborne progresses Last week Castro—the person calling himself Roger—agreed to meet Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe at Croydon. The latter is Roger's cousin, and with whom he was in love before ho left for South America. Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe went, accompanied by Mrs. . Nangle (an aunt of Roger's). Mr. R. and Mr. and Mrs. Nangle only went in. Castro thinking he was to pee Mr. and Mrs. R., accosted Mrs. Nangle as " Kate," being Mrs. Ratcliffe's name, conversing with Mrs. Nangle, taking her for Mrs. R. This circumstance alone would stamp him as an impostor However they agreed to meet him again as on Wednesday last. Mrs. Radcliffe, Mrs. Nangle, and two other ladies went. Castro totally failed to recognize these two ladies, though they were relations and most intimate with Roger, They addressed him in French, as they were accustomed to talk to Roger in that language. Castro could neither speak nor understand that language. The interview ended by Mr. Radcliffe and all the ladies being positive that he is not Roger Tichborne, but an impostor, and so told him to his face. Thinking you might like to know these facts, I intrude. The family have always been satisfied that the man is an impostor.—I am, sir, your obedient servant,

F. BOWKER.

The next letter was as follows:—

Winchester, March 30, 1867.

Sir,—The man assuming the name of Tichborne had an interview last Friday with Major Phillips, late of the Carabineers. The Major writes me that he took him by the coat to sit in a chair at the window, placing himself opposite to him. The Major could not recognize him, and he failed in every question put to him about the regiment. So the interview ended by the Major telling him he could not shake him by the hand as the man he had known as Ticlibomo, for he was not the man. Perhaps you may remember that Major Phillips knew Tichborae from the time of joining the regiment till leaving.—Apologising for thus intruding, I am, &c.,

F. BOWKER.

The last letter was as follows:—

Winchester. July 13. '67.

Sir,—in reference to my former letter, relative to the person claiming to be Mr. Ticliborne, who was in the Carabineers with yon, I beg to observe that the Examiners of the Court of Chancery have fixed the 6th and 7th of August next to take his examination in London. We have been endeavouring for a long time to catch a glimpse of him; but ho will not be seen by the family, only by persons the particulars as to whom he previously obtains. Somo gentlemen have been to Croydon and wasted days without success. The object of my now troubling you is to let you, know that the family are still confident that he is an impostor, and the examination, we trust, mav tend to prove it. We have parties in London who have known him for years in Wagga Wagga and elsewhere, when he was in the lowest condition, such as it is almost impossible to believe a baronet, with a large income at his sole disposal, could succumb to without a reason. Should you be leaving England, may I beg the favour of your address?—I am, sir. your obedient Servant,

F. BOWKER.

Colonel Norbury's examination being resumed, be said tbat at the request of the plaintiff he had an interview with him in July, and afterwards he wrote to Mr. Bowker on the subject. He stated that he had had two interviews with the claimant at Malvern, and that he firmly believed him to be the man he represented himself to be, Mr. Roger Tichborne, of the Carabineers; and that he had made an affidavit to that effect. The letter ho received from the claimant slating he wished to come and see him was dated July 5, 1867. It was to this effect:—

Bear Norbury,—No doubt you have seen by the papers that I have returned to England after a long absence, and have gone to law to get my estates. I wish to see my old brother officers. Will it be convenient for you to see me next week? If so, I will do myself the pleasure of taking the journey on purpose.

In reply to other questions the witness went on to say, I had a distinct recollection of the handwriting, and before I opened the letter I said, " I believe this is from Tichborne himself." I saw him at the Foley Arms Hotel, Malvern, where he sent word he was. When I first went into the room I did not recognize him, but in a very few minutes I began to recognize his features. I had heard he was much stouter, hut I was not prepared for so great a change in his appearance. I was with him three hours, and we were talking all that time. I said he was so altered that I should not have known him. I do not recollect a tenth part of the conversation. The conclusion I came to that he was Roger Tickborno I arrived at considerably before the end of the interview—about an hour after I had been with him. We then talked about his adventures abroad.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Do you remembor any portion of the conversation you had with him before you told him that you recognized him?—Witness: Not word for word, but I can tell you some of the questions I put and the answers he gave me.

The Solicitor-General objected, on the grounds that the communications asked for constituted a conversation between the plaintiff and his own witness on a matter in the plaintiff's favour, that a party in a cause asserting his identity affirmatively cannot be allowed to select particular facts of recollection or conversations in his favour, and prove them in examination in chief; and that such a course would remove the substantial grounds of cross-examination of the plaintiff himself when he comes into the box to be examined. To permit such a course would be to enable a party to manufacture evidence in his own favour. The inquiry was not into the capacity or state of a person's mind, or a mixed inquiry into mind and body, but into personal identity. It was not, therefore, to be subject to the rules governing ono into sanity, where the condition of the mind is the very issue in dispute. The cases of doctors detailing a patient's condition from symptoms partly related by himself are not similar either, for in them that which is asked is the scientific conclusion of the physician, not the symptoms as related by the patient.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine contended that identity is composed of body and mind, and in determining the latter it is impossible to have a more important element than an acquaintance with what the claimant knows and remembered, especially if what he knows could only have been within the knowledge of the person with whom he claimed identity. It was urged that the evidence should be excluded as relating to conversations—that is, as hearsay. What was sought to be proved, however, was not conversation, but fact, although requiring to be proved by words spoken. In a trial at Bar, that of " Mr. Audsley v. Earl of Anglesea," reported in the 17th vol. of the State Trials, such evidence had been admitted without objection, and the matter had been considered and the evidence admitted in the American Courts.

Mr. Giffard and Mr. Jeune supported the views of Mr. Servant Ballantine.

The Solicitor- General having replied,

The Chief-Justice said he was prepared to express an opinion, but as the Lord Chief-Justice of England was present in court he should like to hear what his lordship had to say on the point.

The Lord Chief-Justice (who was sitting ou the bench only as a spectator) said he was not a member of the Court of Common Pleas, otherwise he should have been happy to have given his opinion.

The Chief-Justice said that the question required very careful consideration, for, if anything was improperly admitted, the result might be a new trial, and the whole expense would be thrown away. The question was whether statements made on past events in the knowledge of the claimant would be admitted. The question being the identity of the claimant, the material test on either side must be the knowledge or ignorance of certain persons and things. Letters had been read in which the question of identity was made to depend upon bis knowledge of Kate Doughty and other persoqs with whom, if he wore the right- man, be would have been intimately acquainted. His knowledge of spelling, Lis education, and his wilting, were all circumstances which would enter into the question of identity quite as much as would the physical formation and configuration of his body and features. Looking at the authority and precedents in the matter, and acting upon the goueral rule of evidence laid down, he thought the evidence should be received.

The Solicitor-General said that he must object to the ruling of his lordship.

Mr Serjeant Ballantine: As the question may be raised elsewhere, I will take care that the words of the objection are properly framed.

The Solicitor-General said that he excepted to the evidence of statements alleged to be made by the claimant as to facts said to be known to him and tbe witnesses.

The Chief-Justice: It will be more convenient to have the objoction put in some general form, so that we may have a decision on the principle as well as the question raised. I will take care that the question is put in the precise form.

The witness was then further examined: I had a conversation with him for fully two hours with reference to past events. Capt. Morton, Lieut. Wardlaw, and Mr. Johnson were in the regiment at the time. I asked him questions about all those gentlemen—about their personal appearance, the colour of their hair, and what names tiiey were called in the regiment. I put the question to him as to the different places at which he was quartered, and who were quartered with him. I only remember— indead, I am perfectly certain he made only one incorrect reply. The great majority of his answers were correct. I asked him particularly about a Mr. Hawkin's height, and he said he was a short man. The same question I asked him about Johnson, and he said he was short and that he was a dark man, which was correct. He gave me correct answers about Wardlaw's height, and his hair and whiskers. All these gentlemen were dead at the time, and I picked them out because he could not have seen them when he came to England. He gave a detailed description of the barracks and his quarters in Dublin. I asked him which side of the gateway our quarters were, and he said to the right, which was correct. He did not remember, however, which portion of the barracks his troop was in. I asked him a question about something (a locket) which he wore round his neck, and he said, " You mean that old comforter which I used to wear." I said " No not that, but something you used to wear day and night." " Ay," he replied, " you mean my sacred heart." He then told me a lot of things with respect to tricks that had been played on him. He said he remembered being quartered at Clonmel, but I thought that was not correct, as we had no detachment there that I recollected. He persisted, however, and I have since ascertained that he is correct, and that he was quartered at Clonmel at one time. I asked him if he remembered the ofncers coming to his room after mess, when he gave thein something to drink. He said, "Yes, French Punch," and described the way he made it. He used to set fire to a bottle of brandy in a bowl, and then we drunk the liquor. (Laughter.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: That was wholesome beverage—dear to some persons. (Laughter.) Witness: Not very wholesome, I should thiuk. The claimant was mistaken as to Captain Sawyer being quartered at Cahir. I have no hesitation in saving that, in my belief, the claimant is Koger Tichborne, the heir.

Cross-examiued: I know him by the general expression of his countenance. I have a knowledge of the young man who was supposed to be lost in the Bella. (Photograph produced.) If I had seen who anywhere else I should not have recognized it as a portrait of any one I had ever seen. (After examining it more minutely.) I see a likeness certainly, but I do not recognize it as a portrait of Tichborne.

The Chief-Justice: It may be Roger Tichborne or anybody else, then?—Witness: Certainly, my Lord. I do not recognize it.

Mr. Hawkins: Now take these photographs (one of them being Lady Doughty's copy, and framed), and see if you recognize the persons delineated there.—I see a likeness in this face [a card marked B], but I cannot say that I identify it as Roger Tichborne. I can only say I see a likeness. It puts me in mind of Roger Tichborne's face, certainly.

Would you suppose it to be a likeness of Roger Tichborne?—I think the general expression of countenance in this picture is very much like the expression of Roger Tichborne's face.

What do you say to the other card (marked " D")? I do not think this is like him.

Now take the one in the frame.—I see a likeness in this one, certainly. I think it is very like him.

The Chief Justice: Do you recognize it as a portrait of Roger Tichborne?—I cannot go quite so far as that, but I believe this was done for a portrait of him. I think it is like him, judging from the general expression of his countenance. I cannot tell you exactly what his features were, but I remember him by the general expression. This puts me in mind of his face, certainly.

The photographs were handed to the jury.

Mr. Hawkins: Look at this photograph (marked " E"). Do you recognize in that the young man who left England in 1853?—I do now, because 1 have seen it be ore. If I had been shown it for the first time to-day, or when I was not thinking about it, I don't think I should have recognized him. I identify him by the movement of his features and the expression of his countenance. I think now it is like the plaintiff, taking it feature by feature.

Is it not an exceedingly good likeness?—I think not. I don't think it is a good likeness.

Supposing you had not seen him this morning, or if he was out of court, should you recognize it as the portrait of the plaintiff? I should recognize it certainly, but I doubt whether I should if it was put into my hands at some distant part of the country. I think the upper part of his face and his forehead are like him. The fat cheeks make the great alteration. The upper part I believe to be like the young man who left England in 1853. The face is not like the Roger Tichborno who left England in 1853, because this is a fat face, and his was a thin one. I cannot point out any other difference.

Mr. Hawkins: Is that the expression of Roger Tichborne when be left England?— Witness: The photograph has very little expression. (Laughter.) The photograph marked D is not like Roger Tichborne. I see in C a likeness to the Roger Tichborne who was in the Carabineers. The photograph of the claimant which I have is more like Roger Tichborne than this portrait D. As far as my judgment goes, there is no alteration in the colour of the hair of the plaintiff. I judge him principally by the general expression of his face. I remember a peculiar working of his eyebrows, and the wrinkles on his forehead. I think I have seen the working of the eyebrows in other people. I may have seen it in a hundred other people. It is not a very extraordinary thing. Roger Tichborne's was very thin. I don't remember the colour of his eyes, nor anything particular about his nose and his ears. I don't know that he was remarkably narrow-chested. He was not very broad, but I don't think he was peculiarly narrow. I should not have described him as narrow-chested. I think so to describe him would be inaccurate. He had very little flesh, but I think his bones were as large as is usually the case with men of his size. I have had many a friendly wrestle with him, and he was by no means weak. (Photograph produced.) That is the plaintiff. I could not recognize Roger Tichborne's body in that portrait.

Mr. Hawkins: You said in one of your letters—" I found some of Mr. Roger handwriting among my papers, and I will take it with me if required."

Witness produced an old mess-room wine book account, and continued: He joined the regiment in 1849. I saw him every day. We were brother cornets together. The present Captain Frazer was their regimental sergeant-major, and I have no doubt taught him his foot drill. Major Phillips was the riding master. These two men would see him every day, and would have as good opportunities of knowing him as any other man. The regiment loft Dublin in 1850. I marched from Dublin to Limerick, and I went thence to Cahir. Roger Tichborne did not go to Limerick. I was only a week at Limerick. Then I went to the head-quarters at Cahir, and remained there till the winter. Then I went with a detachment to Gort. I rejoined the regiment at Dublin in 1852. Tichborne and I were not quartered in the same place for about a year; but I have no doubt I saw him often during that time. From the beginning of 1853 till July, 1867, we never met. When I received the letter from Tichborne I said it was from Tichborne before I opened it. The address was not in the same handwriting as the letter. The letter is in two different kinds of handwriting. (Envelope produced.) I believe that to be the handwriting of the plaintiff. I have here other letters which I have received from the plaintiff. I saw a man named Carter at Malvern. I heard that ho had been an old servant of Roger Tichborne. I did not recognize Carter. I received copies of certain affidavits before the plaintiff came to Malvern. They came by post. I don't tlnnk there was any letter with them.

Mr Hawkins: Did tliey come with a letter from Mr. Holmes, the plaintiff's attorney begging you to read thein?—I don't remember. I can't say whether there was a letter or not. I read the affidavits with great interest. I read the affidavits of Mr. Hopkins, Lady Tichborne, and plaintiff.

The affidavits of Lady Tichborne, Mr. Hopkins, and the plaintiff were then put in.

The Chief-Justice: You said the affidavits were sent to you before you had seen the plaintiff?—I had received the first copy of them, I believe.

Mr. Hawking: Did the plaintiff te I you that Carter had been in hid service for months before he saw you?—I believe he did.

Did he tell you he had come over to England with an old servant of Sir Edward's?— cannot say, but I have heard of it frequently.

Are you aware that, on arriving in this country, he took into his service the man Carter, Boger Tiehborne's old groom?—I was told so. I Wiis not aware that M'Cann and Sergeant-major Quinn had been taken into his service.

If Carter was a servant in the regiment, lie would know the names of the officers very well?—Yes, I should say so. He would know Hawkins and the other gentlemen whose names I have mentioned.

What was the great thing that brought to your mind the notion that the plaintiff was Roger Tichborne?—It was not a great thing, but a combination of small things. It was partly the answers he made to questions I put to him, partly his features, and partly his voice. His pronunciation was very much altered, but not the tone of his voice. Before he left this country Roger Tichborne spoke what is called broken English. He spoke fluently, but pronounced his English as a foreigner. He spoke French fluently. I never saw him read a French b ok. There was nothing French about the plaintiff when he came to Malvern. (Laughter.) I questioned him about his French, and he said, " I have forgotten French, i cannot speak it well now; and therefore I am advised not to speak it at all." Of course I do not know whether it is true or not.

Mr. Hawking: Did he say his attorney advised him not to speak it? (Laughter.)

Colonel Norbury: No; but he said he had been advised. I did not ask him if he could read French. I saw hia reports as orderly officer when he was in the regiment. I never noticed any inaccuracy in his writing or spelling. I should imagine, however, that his education was decidedly below the average of most gentlemen. I should not say it was so below the average as that he would spell when in the Carabineers major " magor." (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice observed that in the entry by Roger Tichborne in the book produced by the witness the word major was correctly spelled.

Colonel Norbury having had given to him a letter of the plaintiff to himself, dated 14th July, 1867, said that in some places in spelling major the plaintiff had used " g." The following letters from the plaintiff to his mother were then read, and the had spelling pointed out by counsel:—

Foley Arms Hotel, 13 July, 67, Malvern.

My dear mama,—I have seen Major Norbury, one of my brother officers, and he remembers me very well, and also another of the 6 D. Guards. I propose to spend to-morrow with Major Norbury, and then start for Cirensester to see Captn. Sherston, and then from there to Alresford, to dine with Mr. Benson, who has kindly invited me. Before I return I shall have about 20 more affidavits. I have telegraphed to Holms to come down to make the affidavids. Do not, my dear mama, let any of the other side know ware I am, or what I am doing. Magor Norbury tells me that the scamp Bowker has written to him, and told him I was an impostor, but Norbury very soon found his mistake when lie seo mo. I shall not be in Croydon for about a week, as I intend to spend a fow days with Col. Lushington, and then with Sir. Stubbs. I hope, my dear mamma, you will see my children are all right, and let me know how yourself and Agnes is. Hoping my dear mamma, you are quite well, I remain your affectionate son,

Lady James Tichborne, Dorset-st., Portman-square.

ROGER C. D. TICHBORNE.

I shall be at Alresford on Wednesday. God bless you, my dear mother.

2 July, 67, Swan Hotel, Alresford, Hants.

My dear mama—I reed your kind letter this morning, and I am deleighted to hear Mr. Norris is going to act for my son. We have succeeded first class since we been here, and met Major Haywood here yesterday. He called upon me and Mr. Sumner, the Bishop of Winchester's son. He was one of my brother officers, but he recognized mo at once, and made an affidavit at once. I likewise was very successful at Sandhurst, lias I met there who I had not seen before. I had them all down hero, and they had ther milatory clothes on, and I think they though I was agoing to take the town. I hope, my dear mama, that you and Agnes are quite well. You will see Mr. Holmes. I have told him to call upon you, but will write again to-morrow. I have seon Mr. Stubbs, who remembered mo perfectly well and begs kindly to be remembered to you and also to Mr. Hopkins and several others more. I am agoing again to Mr. Gilbert Onslow at Tichborne at four o'clock this afternoon and Mr. Shelley. Mr. Benson called yesterday and left his card. Mr. Bishop and the Mr. Longs called yesterday. Col. Lushington and Mr. Brodie, and several other persons. Mrs. Bulpelt has just called, so I must say goodbye my dear mama for present.—Ever your affeotionato son.

ROGER C. D. TICHBORNE.

Another letter from the plaintiff to Lady Tichborne, dated July 18, 1867, was read, in which " possible" was spelt " possloble," " accident," " accidient," and "children," " chilldren."

The Solicitor-General, by way of comparison, placed in the hands of witness a letter from Roger Tieliborne to his mother a few days before he embarked on board the Bella in 1854, which he (the witness) identified as the genuine writing of his old comrade of the Carabineers. The letter, which the learned counsel then read, was as follows:—

Buenos Ayres.

My dear Mother,—it is certainly strange that every one of your letters, as far back as I can remember, have always been, and are still now, always on the same subject, without the least variation. That subjects are invariably on the duties of a son towards his mother, which fills up, as a matter of course, at least the first two pages. The two other pages are generally filled up with all kinds of imaginary fears and a list of accidents, illness and sickness of every description, which are quite unknown to everybody else but yourself. It must be certainly the work of your imagination which makes you think of so many things. Another thing, also, where I don't think you don't at all treat me fairly, you treat me in your letters exactly like if I was twelve or thirteen years of age, and, moreover, as if I was quite incapable of taking the least care of myself. I beg to say that I am quite old enough to take care of myself, and that I act as circumstances require it. Afterwards, if you are .always determined to think that I am ill or sick, or anything else, when I tell you in my letters that I am very well, it is perfectly useless for me to write to you to let you know how I am as you don't appear to believe what I say in my letters. I shall not in future wait for your letters to write, as they don't contain any news from you or my father, or any kind of news which require an answer. I shall therefore write to you from the principal towns at which I shall stop without waiting any more for your letters. The servant who I took at Lima suits me very well. I have had him to my service now for some time, and I have no doubt that he will go on as he has began and follow me in all my travels, and come back with me to England. It is quite impossible for me to fix in any kind of way the time of my return to England. The life which I am following suits my taste too well for me to leave it in a hurry ..especially as my health is remarkably good, and promises to keep so for a long time. I left Santiago in the middle of summer (which is the month of January) that is to say on the 11th January to cross the Corderillos of the Andes. We did not, though, reach the foot of those high mountains till the morning of the third day, when we began to ascend the first chain of mountains. We got down the other side early in the afternoon. We pushed on with the horses and mules so as to be able to reach the foot of the second chain of mountains, but it was not possible for us to reach it that day. We had therefore to build up our camp and cook up our dinner, which we all took with delight, as we had all of us very good appetite. After dinner we prepared our beds, and after rolling ourselves in our cloaks went f.ist asleep. The next morning we were up before sunrise, and after loading our animals, started. We crossed the second chain of mountains, which is called the Partillo, which is by far the highest of the two. We arrived down the other side rather late in the afternoon, and after following the valley for some timo made up our camp for the night in the same way. We got down in the Pampas the next morning early; nothing more worth took place till we arrived at Mandoza. I have seen certainly a great many countries in my life, but I never saw one where the sceneries which one sees from the top of the Corderillos of the Andes for the wildness and magnificient scenery which he sees before him. I don't think that there is anything to be compared to it in the world. The distance from Santiago to Mandoza by the way I came is of 78 league. I was eight days to perform my journey. Mandoza is a well-built town; it has the Cordilleros on one side, and the Pampas on the other, As there is no commerce in the place, it makes the town very dull. I left Mandoza on the 27th January with the post for Buenos Ayres, where we arrived on the 13th of February. The Pampas are very large grass plains, where small towns and post-houses. are met no with from place to place to change horses. The numbers of persons crossing the Pampas now is very great. Buenos Ayres is rather a large town; it counts about 60,000 inhabitants, chiefly all Europeans. This town is very wholesome; there is never any kind of sickness in or about the place. I expect to leave it in a few days for Montivideo, where I shall remain for days before I go to Brazil. When you answer this letter direct yours, Post-office, Kingston, Jamaica, West Indies where I shall call to get my letters on my way to Mexico, where I expect to be in about three months and a half. I have not time now to send you an extract of my daily journal to-day, but I shall write it out for you as soon as I shall have time. I sppose that you must be by this time accustom to the English country life, which is by far the best to lead. Tichborne is a very nice place in all seasons in tho year. I received your last letter by this last mail. Pray give my love to Father and Alfred, and Belive me, my dear mother, your very affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

March 1, 1854.

Address: Lady Tichborne, Tichborne Park, Alresford, Hants, England.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine called attention to the word " thing" in his copy. In the original letter it was spelt " think," then it was scratched out and altered to " thing."

The Chief-Justice: It is not " think" in my copy.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that in his brief the word " rolling " appeared as if written " rubbing."

The Chief-Justice: It is " rolling" in my copy, and is as clearly written as it can be.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am much inclined to think that my fac-similes are not correct.

The Chief-Justice: There is one most important feature. The present tense, you will see, is used instead of the past.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine pointed out the word " magnincient" in the former letter was spelt in the same way as the word " accedient" in one of the latter ones.

The Chief-Justice: All these things are matters for the jury. They will see both sets of letters, and it will be for them to determine.

Another letter was then handed to witness, who stated that he believed it to be in the handwriting of the plaintiff. It was then read:—

International (Terminus) hotel, London-bridge, 9 January, 1867.

Dear and beloved Mama, i am here and am prevented by circumstance from coming to see you to-day. do come over and see mc at once and i will not go out cf the hotel untill you come. I have been down to Tichborne and had a look at the dear old place once more and it made my heart bleed to look at the distruction there has been there, but has my poor brother is dead, I will nofmension that subject again. Let the past be pased and no more about it. I have seen Mr. Gosford. He seems very much change to what he use to be. lie came down in train from Gravesend last night, i had a long talk with him, and he seemes to deny everything i put him in mind of and he says he did not remember coming down in the coach with him to Tichborne. i had a hour with him, conversation about different things, mama, that nobody in the world could ever tell him but me. I never told him under what circumstance Moore came left me. You must remember Mamma I wrote to him from almost every place. A. Cullington, and a lot more would insist on seeing me at Gravesend when they came, and because I did not wish to see them until I had seen you they were very angry. Oh do come at once to the hotel, Mamma, and I will not go out until you come. Everything will be explained when you come, it dangerous for me to go out, has some of the bills i drew in Sydney are due, and I believe they intend to arrest me if i attemp to leave England, so do come, mama, i did not receive any answer to the telegram I sent you from New York.—Hoping not to remain long before i see you, ever yoru affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Lady Tichborne, 27, Place de la Madeleine, Paris.

Another letter was then read, as follows: —

Jan. 18, 1867.

Dear Mamma,—I am going out for a walk with Mr. leele and Holmes and wc will not be home until four o'clock, i hope my dear Mamma you will come about four and have dinner with us. We are going to have a nice fish dinner. I hope you will not worrit yourself any more, hoping my dear Mamma you are better,—I remain, Your affectionate Son,

ROGER C. TICHBORNE.

Lady Tichborne, 27, Place do la Madeleine, Paris.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said he did not intend to object to these letters. The only ones he intended to dispute were those which would come on perhaps a few weeks hence. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice: Months hence, perhaps.

Mr. Serjeant Ballautine: After the experience of yesterday and to-day, I think we may say months hence with great confidence. (Laughter.)

Cross-examination resumed: The plaintiff might have told me that he had an hour's conversation with Waddington about me. I have no doubt that he told me of his interview with Lord Tichborne.

Mr. Hawkins: Is your memory so vague that you cannot say whether the topic was broached?—Witness: I cannot say whether it was mentioned.

Mr. Hawkins: Do or do you not remember whether, in the course of conversation, the subject of his meeting his alleged mother in Paris was mentioned?—Witness: I cannot say whether he did or he did not. He gave me an account of his entire adventures. A meeting of mother and son after so many years' separation would be naturally an important event, but it was nearly four years ago, and if anything was said I have forgotten it. No doubt the subject was broached, and I knew afterwards all about the interview, but I can't say whether it was mentioned at that particular interview. My firm belief is that the subject of his meeting with his mother did not occupy an hour's time. I remember his describing his meeting with a cousin Kate, who, he said, had recognized him. I made no notes, but my belief is he said she admitted recognizing him on one occasion, but denied it on another.

Mr. Hawkins:—Would you be so satisfied that the plaintiff is Sir Roger Tichborne if you had known before you saw him that his relatives, one and all, had persistently denied that he was the real Roger Ticliborne?—Witness: Well, I might; but my principle was, in examining him, to pay little attention except to replies and questions which I asked. He told me a great many things, but I paid attention chiefly to the answers which he gave to the questions which I put. I put to him a great number of questions as to the officers whom I have mentioned—about their height and size. These were matters that would be well known to everv man in the reciment.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I put a great number of questions to him with regard to a great number of individuals. A great portion of the questions he answered easily, others after some thinking, and with respect to some he said he had no remembrance whatever. During this questioning I watched him most steadfastly, and am still of the opinion I expressed at the commencement of my examination, that he is the Roger Tichborne. Even without any of those incidents, I should say from his appearance and voice that he was the same man, and the interview confirmed the impression. I am firmly convinced he is Sir Roger Tichborne.

Major Haywood examined by Mr. Gilford: In February, 1847, I became lieutenant in the Carabineers. I remember R. C. Tichborne joining the regiment in 1819. I was on leave when he joined. In 1850 I met him in my troop at Gort. In November that year I was gazetted captain, and Tichborne succeeded me as lieutenant. I frequently went to the head-quarters at Cahir, and saw him often both there and at Clonmel. I exchanged into the 16th Lancers in 1852. I remember the officers receiving an invitation to a ball in the neighbourhood of Cahir in the summer of 1851. I was engaged in a practical joke against him, I last saw him either at Clonmel or Cahir late in the summer of 1851. I next saw him at Alresford in July, 1867. I went to the Swan, at Alresford, to meet him. I recognized him as my old brother officer, but not at first. I asked him various questions, and, among other things, I alluded to this practical joke. He distinctly told me of the story, telling me of the joke, which consisted in packing up his things, and pitching some of them out of the window, and others out into the barrack yard. I asked him if there was anything left in his room, and he said, after a moment, " Yes, there was one thing left." I said what was it, and he said, "Well, it was the chamber utensil." (A laugh.) It was so. I suggested nothing to him. I simply wanted to test him. I recognized the peculiar action of his eyebrows. I noticed that his voice possessed a half-French intonation which I remembered when I saw him last at Cahir. He evidently knew that I had not been at the ball, because I had been concerned in the joke. I saw him in June, 1868. I saw him repeatedly. I was staying in the neighbourhood, and I saw him fishing. He could throw a fly perfectly. I have satisfied myself that he is my old brother officer.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I was not intimate with him. I only saw him from time to time. I was on leave from August, 1849, till the same month in the following year. I saw him also in the year 1850. There were a good many practical jokes played on him. He was French in his talk and manner, and could not give his word of command very clearly. The whole regiment knew that; his servants knew it. I saw him in the summer of 1851. (Photograph marked C produced.) That is not like him. (Photograph marked D produced.) I don't recognize that as like anyone I knew. (Photograph marked E.) This reminds me of the plaintiff. The eyebrews recall the Roger Tichborne of 1851. There was something between a pained and surprised expression on them when he raised them. The eyebrows in photographs E and C are totally different. (Daguerreotype produced.) That has not the slightest resemblance to any member of the mess. (Photograph marked AA produced.) That does remind me more of Tichborne. I should be surprised if the daguerreotype had been deposited as his own likeness. I have seen no documents connected with the cause before I saw him, I received a note, I think, from Mr. Holmes, asking me to see Tichborne at the Swan. I am sure a man of the name of Kearns was a troopsergeant-major in the regiment in 1851. I walked with him to the Swan. A photograph was shown to me, and I was asked if I could recognize it. I said there was nothing to recall Tichborne except the eyebrows. When plaintiff came into the room. I did not recognize him at once, the change being so great; hut I soon became convinced that he was the man. I made an affidavit on the same day.

The Solicitor-General read a letter of the plaintiff's to Lady Tichborne describing the interview, and saying that Major Haywood recognized him at once, and bad made an affidavit of it. The letter, dated July 2, and which has'been given in a previous cage here, was characterized by the same bad spelling, but there were no small " I's."

The Chief-Justice called attention to something peculiar about the signature.

The Solicitor-General: Yes, it looks like " Tichbourne."

Mr. Serjeant Bailantine said it was not so.

Witness continned: He had a half-intonation with respect to his voice—a half French way of talking. It was the same voice that I heard in the regiment. This was one of the ways that I recognized him. The voice and the accent were the same as I had heard in 1851. The Tichhorne of 1851 was never made a bntt of as being a fool. It,is difficult to say that he was a man of ordinary education. He certainly was not so well informed as some of his brother officers. He always conducted himseif as a gentleman—perfectly so. The claimant, I thought, spoke English like a French gentleman. There was a striking similarity in the two men.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: I was not concerned in more than one practical joke about Tichborne. He knew all about the joke that I was engaged in. I mean by intonation that be spoke English like a Frenchman who hail been in England for a long time.

George Wilde (who was accommodated with a seat): I am now staying at Sandhurst. I have been ill for a long time. I was the ofiicers' batman in the 6th Dragoon Guards when Mr. Koger joined the regiment in 1819. I knew him till he left in 1853 in Canterbury. I became servant to Lieutenant Johnson, and saw a good deal of Mr. Tiehborne. Occasionally I attended him in his rooms. I have seen him on horseback. He could stick a horse very woll, I think. He had a good seat, but not a good military posture; his legs were not good. There was a peculiarity about his face—a twitching of his eyes and eyebrows. This was very apparent when talking. He did not mix with many of the officers. He smoked a good deal. I heard of his being lost at sea. In 1867 Carter told me something about him, and in consequence I went to the offices of Mr. Holms. There I saw the same gentleman who was in the regiment. When I entered he called me by name, shook hands with me, and I recognized him by his face and his voice. I did not see any difference in his hair, except that he wears it a little longer now. The first interview lasted for about an hour. I saw him afterwards in Yorktown. He mentioned several things about the regiment. He called to mind a rook or crow that Mrs. Colonel Hay had. Carter was not there all the time. He told me of things that had happened between brother officers and himself. In my opinion the claimant is the same man that I knew in the regiment when I was in it. I have not the least doubt about it.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: Many might mistake him who did not know him. (Laughter.) He is the same man who left the regiment in 1853. I recognized him as soon as he spoke to me, and asked me how I was. I could see that he locked the same gentleman. He spoke a good deal better English than he did when in the regiment. I could detect the foreign Recent a little now and then. My recollection is not so good as before my illness. Carter, I think, came to me the day before I went to Mr. Holms. He said, " I want you; will you come along with mo to London? " I said, " What for? " He said, " Don't you know that Mr. Roger has come home?" I said, "Yes, I have heard it in the papers." Carter asked Sergeant Waddington and Sergeant-Major Bricklebank to go to London with us. Carter spent the evening partly with me, and we talked the matter over. I remember many things better than Carter did. When he was wrong I contradicted him. We had a good long chat about the regiment and olden times. I don't kuow the difference between a crow and a rook. Mrs. Hay's crow was no secret—it used to get about the regiment and talk. I recollect having a chat with Mr. Tichborne about the crow. He mentioned it first. Carter might have said that I should see the old twitch of the eye when I met Sir Roger. He told me he had altered, and got much stouter. I tljiuk he said there was some alteration in my voice.

Did he tell you that when you had talked to him you would, find he was the same man?—I don't think he did.

Did Carter go with you?-—No, he remained in the village. I don't think he mentioned anything about Major Norbury. I know ho went up and down the place drinking with almost every one. The subject of the conversation, I dare say, was Roger Tichborne and the old times. I told Mr. Holms that I recognized him at once, but I did not swear to any statement till three months afterwards. My expenses were paid by some one. Carter, Waddington, and myself dined together that day. I did not see Mr. Tichborne in the same room in the evening. I made the affidavit in July in Alresford. I went there in the college uniform. We did not stay there three or four days. We met a good many persons who had been in the regiment. There was no peculiarity about the shape of Mr. Tichborne's head, as far as I can remember. I believe I swore in my affidavit that from the shape of his head and eyebrows I could not be mistaken. I do not recognize the photographs (C and D) as the portraits of any persons I have ever seen. I cannot recollect any feature by them. My illness has very much affected my memory.

Re-examined: I nave been ill for some time. I was all right when I made my affidavit. I have memory enough to say that I believe him to be the Tichhorne I saw in the regiment. I have seen some photographs before to-day. One has been shown to me by Serjeant Kearns. I have not before seen any of those that have been shown me to-day.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

SIXTH DAY.—WEDNESDAY, MAY 17.

FIFTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Major-General William Neville Custance, C.B., examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, said:—I was a captain in the 6th Dragoon Guards when Roger Tichborne joined the regiment, and became major-general before he left. We were quartered in the same barracks in Ireland. When he was at head-quarters and not with a detachment I saw him daily. As I was a married man I did not always mess with him. I, however messed with him from the spring of 1852 until 1853. I was on good terms with him. He was a very thin, unwholesome, yellow-looking sort of a man. (Laughter.) I should say he did not associate much with his brother officers. He had a peculiar expression about his eyes. He had heavy eyebrows and he wrinkled up his forehead. That is more marked now than it was then. I heard of his supposed loss at sea. From 1853 I saw nothing of him until he came down to see me at Salisbury on the 12th of October, 1867. I had previously received two letters from him asking for an interview. One was written apparently by a lawyer and signed by the plaintiff, the other was as follows:—

Dear Colonel Custance.—Having to go to Bath I though I would take the opportunity of calling here to see you and Captain Pinkney. I was sorry to say I find you both live a long way from here. My engagement from Bath compels me to be there early, and I must start by the first train in the morning. I shall be back on Saturday, about ten a.m., and shall be obliged if you can spare time to drive over to see mo, as I have to start on Saturday afternoon for Poole, and I should very much like to see you both. I have wrote to ask Captain Pinkney to come over. Dear Colonel Custance, I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you on Saturday.—I remain. yours truly,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

I had seen several articles in the newspapers on the subject of the baronetcy. In accordance with his second letter I went to him on the 12th October at the Swan Hotel, Salisbury. When I first went into the room I did not know him, as he had his back to the light, but when he sat down with bis face to the light I recognized him immediately. He had wonderfully changed, and he was taller looking. His face was so large and his body so very fat that it was a wonderful change. I knew him by the peculiarity of his eyebrows, wrinkled forehead, and general expression, which was peculiar.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Independently of your conversation with him, are you ahle to give a definite opinion whether he is Roger Tichborne?—The conversation is in no way present to my mind.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Having seen the plaintiff on the 12th October, 1867, and subsequently, and again in this court, do you believe he is the man?—Most undoubtedly.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: This impression was formed immediately I saw him at the Swan, I saw him again in September, 18G8. My affidavit was sworn on the 7th November, 1867. I did not see him between the 12th October and the 7tli November. [Mr. Hawkins here produced a letter written by the witness to Mr. Bowker in February, 1867.]

Cross examination continued: His height, I thought, was 5ft. 7in., or even lower, when he left the regiment. He was a little, wretched, unwholesome-looking young man, about 5ft. 6in., or at most 5ft. 7in., very pale, thin, and dirty-looking. I did not say, to the best of my belief, " and apparently not likely to grow." I have no recollection of uttering such words.

Mr. Hawkins: Yon have stated so in your own letter

Witness: I find the expression there certainly, but I did not recollect it. I do not recognise the photograph produced, marked C. I should say it is not like what Mr. Tichborne was in 1853. It certainly has not the expression of the man I knew. Photograph D is the likeness of a man who is much too good-looking. I do not recognise the daguerreotype. The eye-brows certainly are heavy-looking, but I cannot recognise the plaintiff by it. Photograph F I do not think is like the plaintiff. In photograph E there is something like him, but it is a precious bad likeness if it is intended for Mr. Tichborne.

The Solicitor-General said the daguerreotype was deposited in Chancery by the plaintiff himself as his own likeness.

The witness was then asked to look at Lady Tickborne's photograph of the plaintiff.

Mr. Hawkins: Do you recognise that? Is there any trace of resemblance of the young man you have been speaking of?—Witness: In my judgment, there is not.

Mr. Hawkins: Now, as regards his height, when yon saw him in 1867?—I found him several inches taller than I expected. He might be 5ft. 8in. or 5ft. 9in. I might have been mistaken as to his height in 1853.

Mr. Hawkins: Yes, as you may be now as to his identity.—Witness: Well, if you think so, perhaps. The change was astonishing. Nobody could go abroad for so long a time without being changed, but I never saw any change so groat as that in the claimant's case. His face was double what Roger Tichborne's was, as far as fat and cheeks go.

Mr. Hawkins: As far as fat and cheeks go?—Witness: Well, no; cheeks. (Laughter.) I recollect that he had a peculiar expression about his eyes. I think they were hazel. They were not blue or black. If any person had said so I should have contradicted him. I don't remember his nose.

Mr. Hawkins: His leading feature, as we say in law, was it aquiline?—Witness: I can't explain it.

Mr. Hawkins: I don't want you to explain it; only to describe it.—I cannot describe it.

Mr. Hawkins: Was there anything about his ears?—I knew of nothing about his ears.

About the shape of his head? —I should not like to swear to that. I recollect his eyebrows and forehead, and a peculiar expression about his eyes.

What was the character of that expression?—I cannot explain it.

Does not everybody have an expression in his eye?--Yes, I think so, but I cannot explain the impression in this instance.

Was there anything else?—There was a wrinkling of the forehead, a movement of the eyebrows which raised the skin of the forehead, and that, I thought, marked the man.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine appealed to his Lordship that the witness should he allowed to finish his sentences.

Mr. Hawkins: He does finish his sentences.

The Chief Justice: May I suggest that as we have many days, and probably months, before us, thing had better go on without irritation? I have no observations to make on the mode of conducting the case on either side, but desire only that things should go on as quietly as possible.

Mr. Hawkins: The only irritation I feel, my Lord, is in my throat. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice: Even your humour, Mr. Hawkins, which is amusing, occasionally produces a little irritation.

Mr. Hawkins: My Lord, they can't stand it. (Laughter.)

Cross-examination continued: The hair appears to he the same in colour. He did not wear it long. It was short behind. He would not he allowed to wear it in the army as he wears it now. In front he used to have it plastered down. It was straight hair, but I can't say whether it was very thin. He had a peculiarity of manner, too, which I cannot exactly explain. In my affidavit I stated, " I recognised him by his eyes and the upper part of his face, and the more I looked at and talked to him the more I was convinced he is the same man."

Was there anything you recognised him by except by his eyes and the upper part of his face?—Yes, by his manner. I became thoroughly convinced, after talking to him, that he was the man. Roger Tichhorne bad a broken accent, and this man had one also, hut it was not so apparent. I had forgotten the tone of voice. Copies of the affidavits were sent to me, but I did not read the whole of them. I read part of his mother's, and only a portion of the plaintiff's. They were very long, and I did not take the trouble to read them through. I was not very intimate with him when in the regiment. I cannot say whether Captain Turner was one of his most intimate friends. The letter produced is mine, and was written on the 28th October, 1807, within sixteen days of my having seen him, and before I had received the copies of the affidavits. I stated in that letter that " I saw the claimant in Salisbury, and believed him to be the heir. I could not account for his having forgotten French and other things. I recognised the face, and thought he was not an impostor; but I would not swear to his identity." In my affidavit I swore unhesitatingly that I believed him to be Roger Tichhorne; and I exprossed my intention of doing everything I could to further his cause. I was certainly wrong when I stated that I would not swear to his identity.

When you wrote that letter, did you mean anything?—I certainly did not mean that.

Mr. Hawkins: I will read the letter. It is addressed to Mr. Bowker, and dated October, 1867:—

Dear Sir,—You must not count on me as evidence in favour of your client, as I saw the claimant to the baronetcy of Tichborne a few days ago in Salisbury. I am certainly under the impression that he is the same man who was in the Carabineers with me. I cannot account for his having forgotten French and other things: but I recognize the voice, and do not think that he is an impostor, though I would not swear to his identity.

Witness: I wrote the last line in error. The other things he could not remember were things, I should say, relating to himself. There was a particular thing, I know, which he did not recollect; but I cannot remember whether I questioned him upon it. It related to something which took place when the regiment was on the march to Cahir. It is so long ago that I have forgotten. I cannot recollect the conversation now. They were things certainly which I thought he ought to have recollected, but I have forgotten what they were, and I could not account for his not recollecting them.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine asked that the letter which he considered had been put m during the examination of this witness, might be read.

The Solicitor-General objected, and said it had not been put in formally, but would be at the proper time.

The Chief-Justice thought that the letter had not been treated as evidence by the examining counsel. His lordship asked to look at it before it was read.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We have what is supposed to he a copy of a letter, but in the original there are terms which do not appear in ours.

The Solicitor-General: Now that I know that the plaintiff's side has a copy of this letter, the objection falls to the ground.

(The letter, however, was not read.)

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The letter was written in the course of a correspondence with Mr. Bowker. I gave all the information I could to that gentleman. I think my own affidavit was amongst those that were sent mo. My mind was not affected by reading the other affidavits. I made my affidavit on my own personal conviction, certainly. I was asked by an old brother officer, when on his deathbed, to do all that I could to assist Mr. Bowker. I had, therefore, no predisposition in favour of the plaintiff. My impression was that Mr. Tichborne was about my own height when I saw him in 1867. I cannot in words describe the peculiarity of his eyes. I never saw Cornet Tichborne wear such a hat as that represented in the photograph. I recollected the general expression of his countenance, and that was patent during the conversation I had with him. When in tho regiment I considered him as only a half-educated man.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Look at the gentleman now claiming the baronetcy, and say if anything you have heard has shaken the opinion you have expressod, and what is your deliberate opinion?—My deliberate opinion is that he is the man.

The subject of the education of the claimant being new, the witness was further cross-examined by the Solicitor-General:—I have seen Roger Tichborne's writing and spelling. I mean to represent that his spelling was bad. I recollect my being astonished at his getting into the army. When a man cannot speak his own language correctly, and spells badly, I consider him half-educated. I never saw a French letter of his. I understand French. I can speak French now, and could once write it. I never heard him speak the language. He spoke English badly, and mis-spelled it, and that is the reason I consider him half-educated.

The Solicitor-General then read three letters of the plaintiffs, one written in 1849, and the others in 1867, that the witness might give his opinion as to whether they were written by the same person. The first was as follows:—

Portobello Barracks. 25th December, 1849.

My dear Mother,—I was very unhappy to hear by the last letter which I received from my father (which letter I received this morning) that you were suffering from asthma I am afraid that you don't cover yourself enough during this cold weather. I have received the letter which you wrote me a month ago, as also those which my father wrote me about three weeks since. I am getting on very well with my colonel, the superior officers, and my brother officers. I am getting on very well with my different drills. I have nearly finished my foot drill. They don't begin to show the cavalry drill to a young man till he is pretty well advanced in all the different infantry exercises. I am obliged to know all the foot drill as well as an infantry officer. As I know that pretty well at present, I have begun the different cavalry exercises. I have two hours' riding every morning, one hour in the riding school and one hour out of the school in the barrack yard. They teach me throu all the" different cavalry evolutions, which are all the movements which I am obliged to perform in a review or on marching order. During the afternoon I have an hour and a half of foot drill and sword exercise. There is one marching order every week which I must attend. On those days I have no drill. It is very pretty to see a cavalry marching order. The whole regiment comes in the barrack-yard at a given hour in full dress and mounted. The colonel inspects all the soldiers and officers, to see that there cloths are well brushed and (clean) that the horses are well cleaned. After the inspection is over he has the regiment to perform several cavalry evolutions for an hour, after which the whole regiment goes out of barracks on marching order for about two hours. I am very foncl of my new profession, and I have no doubt that the more I shall go on with it, the more I shall like it. Dublin are very good quarters, the officers are much thought of, it makes it very pleasant for the officers. I know, for my part, some persons in Dublin, it makes it very pleasant for me to be able to go and see some persons in town. I must conclude my letter, my Dear mother, by wishing you, as also to my father and brother, a happy new year, which I hope you will pass in good health and happy, and which I hope with all my heart will be followed by a great many others.—I remain, my dear mother, till I have the pleasure of hearing from you, your very affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

I shall write to my father in the course of the week.

Madame Tichborne, No. 11, Rue Castiglione, Paris, France.

As the letter was being read, attention was called to some peculiarities of spelling Until was spelled " till," but the Solicitor-General expressed a hope that that was not a proof of bad education; " full was written with one " 1; " " there " was substituted for " their;" " an " was given for " and " in some instances, and there was a doubt how the word clothes was spelled.

The following letters were next read:—

" Swan Hotel, Alresford, Oct. 13, 1867.

My dear Mamma,—I am afraid you will never forgive me for not writing so long. I have been travelling every day this week, and have not been one day at one place. I have not received a letter from you since I wrote to you last. I told them to send my letters to Poole, as I expected to be there yesterday; but Col. Custance and Captain Pinkney keep me so long I could not get away. I forgot to mention they made an affidavit, so I start on Tuesday morning for Poole. I hope my dear mamma you have got better of your caught and cold. I have not heard from my wife or children since I left Croydon. I feel Very anxious my dear mamma to hear from you. I was at Winchester yesterday afternoon. I stayed at the George for about two hours. Mrs. Wright begs to be remembered to you, she is a very nice person. There arc many things, my dear mamma, I wish to speak to you about, so I hope I shall soon have the great pleasure of seeing you in England. It's reported about Winchester that you refused to pay a quarter's rent of Itchin Abbays for me. Of ccursc, it's some of Bowker's tricks. I will make a Bowker of him before I have done with him. God bless you, my dear mamma, and our Holy Mother protect you.—from your affectionate son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

London Hotel, Poole, Oct. 14, 1867.

My dear Mamma,— I have only just received your kind letter, with the cheque enclosed. My dear Mamma, you will think it ungrateful of me not writing before, but I did not know ware you would be. I wrote to you last night from Alresford, to your address in Paris, I was travelling all last week, and you know yourself, my dear mamma, how awkward it is to write when you are not stationary. I have been very successful in my tour. I have seen Colonel Custance and Capt. Pinkney. They have each made an affidavit, and Col. Custance a very strong one. A very strange thing happened when I arrived here. I got out of the train, and an old man looked at me and walk up and said, " How do, Sir Roger." He knew me in a minute, and nobody knew I was coming. For I even wrote to Mr. Holmes and told him that I was not a-going to Poole until Wednesday. I hope, my dear mamma you have got better of your cold, and be very careful not to sleep in damp sheets again. I hope to be very successful!) ere, and then, my dear mamma, 1 shall be on my way to see you. I hope, my dear mamma, you will go and see my dear children, And let me know how they are. I have not heard from them since I left Croydon. I hope, my dear mamma, you have arrived safe, and that you will write to me at once, so that I may know ware to send my letters to you. I will send this to Croydon, and write to Bogle to forward it to you. I will come up to see you, my dear mamma, has soon as I know you have arrived. Hoping, my dear mamma, you are well, and that I shall soon hear from you, I remain, my dear mamma, your affectionate son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

The Solicitor-General (to Witness): What do you say of the education that went on from 1849 to 1867?

Witness: Certainly it has not improved. (Laughter.)

Do you think the letters of 1867 are those of an educated gentleman?—I don't think they are.

Assuming that the writer was a Frenchman up to 1845-6, and came to England with an imperfect knowledge of English, is the letter of 1849 that of an educated gentleman?—I don't think it is.

Except that he writes imperfect English, and spells certain words imperfectly, is there anything in the letter of 1849 inconsistent with the writer being an educated gentleman?—It is a better letter almost than any I have soen of Roger Tichborne before.

Should you be surprised to hear there are hundreds of such letters?—I should be surprised if there be so great a number equally good.

Do you think you misjudged him at that time?—I am still of opinion he was not properly educated.

Suppose there are 200 letters, each as good as that, what would you say?—I should like to see them. (Laughter.)

Suppose I produce 120 such letters?—Well, I should be surprised.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I do not think his living many years in Australia, with little communication with any one, would improve his style.

The Chief-Justice: Looking at the paragraph in your letter which has been read, " I do not think he is an impostor, although I would not swear to his identity," do you adhere to the opinion you last expressed?

Witness replied that he certainly did. The paragraph was written probably without thought and hurriedly. He could give no other explanation. It did not convey what he actually meant at the time.

The following letters were then read:—

Winchester, Feb. 9, '67.

Sir,—I have the honour of acting for the Dowager Lady Arundell, Lady Tichborne, and others, the guardians of the infant baronet, in resisting a claim made by a person (passing as " D'Castro") to the Tichborne estates as Mr. Roger C. Tichborne,. who was formerly in the 6th Dragoon Guards, and lost at sea in 1854, nothing having been heard of him until now. On conferring with Colonel Hay, Major Bott, and other officers, I am told that probably you must recollect Mr. Roger, and being a captain in the regiment at the time might know of various facts that would not escape the memory of Roger, if alive, and cannot be known to any other person, excepting to the officers of that regiment. The family will be deeply grateful if you could give me some description of Mr. Roger's person—if you could identify him—why he sold out—and any little circumstances connected with him. The magnitude of the estates at issue, and the consequence to the present infant, I trust, will be a sufficient apology for my troubling you.—I have the honour to be, sir, your very obedient servant,

F. BOWKER.

To Colonel Custance, C. B.

Fryern Court, Fordingbridge, Salisbury, Feb. 10, '67.

Dear Sir,— The Mr. Tichborne, in the 6th Dragoon Guards-with me (commonly called " Teesh" in the regiment), was a little, wretched, unwholesome-looking young man, about 5 feet 6, or at most 7, very pale, thin, and dirty-looking, and apparently not likely to gray. I think I should know him again even after the number of years which have elapsed since I last saw him. He spoke English imperfectly, and was much more of a foreigner, both in language and appearance,, than an Englishman. I do not recollect the cause of his leaving, but I think it was merely because he was tired of the service, not to say unfit for it. I also do not recollect when ho left; but this can easily be ascertained on reference to old Army Lists, which are, of course, to be seen at any of the clubs. He was never in my troop, but was for some time in Captain Polhill's. I was with it once (if I remember right, only once) on detachment at Clonmel. I think Captain Polhill, now Polhill Turner, of Howbury Hall, Bedfordshire, and Captain Philip Pinkney, of Milstone, near Amesbury, Wilts, could identify him. We were quartered in Dublin, at Portobello Barracks, in the year 1849, when Tichborne was with us, and he remained there until the spring of 1850, when he marched for Cahir in April. On this march an occurrence took place which Mr. Tichborne must remember. On the first or second day's march, I forgot which, everyone was roused up in the middle of the night with an a'arm that Tichborne was dying. The doctor was sent for, who found him standing in his night shirt in the middle of his room, apparently choking, having, I believe, over-eaten himself. (Laughter.) This was of course for long a standing joke against him, not to be easily forgotten. The medical man was Dr. Heriot, the surgeon of the regiment, now a very old man in a precarious state of health I believe at Brighton. Colonel Hay I fancy knows his address, or could find it out. When at Clonmel, in detachment, the troop to which he was posted was inspected by Major-General Macdonald, commanding the district, since dead. The captain forgot to open the ranks, the general, who was on foot, and knew nothing about cavalry, after going a little way between the ranks, was obliged to beat a retreat for fear of being kicked. This was of course a joke against the troop, and one the officers would not be likely to forget There was a regiment of infantry quartered at Clonmel with the troop. I think also some artillery, but I am not quite sure about the latter; but Mr. Tichborne ought to remember. He ought also to remember the family of a Captain Morton, a brother officer, who died in Clonmel. Of course Mr. T. ought to recollect his eoinm mding officers; and it so happens that they have been changed three times during his short period of service, if he was with the regiment when we were in Cork in '51. Colonel Jackson, now Lieut.-General Sir J. Jackson, was the lieutenant-colonel of the regiment when T. joined, and was succeeded in Cahir, 1850, by Lieut-Colonel Hay; Capiain Jones, senior captain, getting the majority the following year. Jones succeeded Lr'eut.-Colonel Hay, and I got the majoiity. In Dublin the regiment was dressed in scarlet, with blue overcoats and yellow stripes; and in Cahir the same with white stripes down the overalls. In Cork, in 1852, we were ordered to wear blue instead of scarlet, but, as I have already said, I am not sure whether Tichborne was there with us. I cannot think of anything else at present, but shall be glad to expose imposition as far aslays in ray power.—Believe me, yours truly,

WM. CUSTANCE.

To F. Bowker, Esq.

Winchester, Feb 11, '67.

Sir, - Accept my thanks for your letters just received, and for the assistance thereby rendered to the family; those little circumstances can never be forgotten by the real Roger, if alive. I had an account from Captain Polhill Turner on Saturday. All your accounts agree as to Mr. Rogor. I now want to find Dr. Taylor, the surgeon in '52; he examined him, and can speak as to his form. Should anything strike you, may I beg the favour of a line.—I am, sir, your very obedient servant and obliged,

F. BOWKER.

To Col. Custance, C.B.

Captain John David Sherstone: I am a justice of the peace for the county of Lincoln, was formerly an officer in the 6th Dragoon Guards. I was a lieutenant in the regiment at the time Mr. Tichborne joined. X was well acquainted with him, and continued so until he left. He was in the habit of visiting my house at Waterford and Canterbury. I heard of his supposed loss at sea, aud I afterwards heard the story of his return. I received a letter from him in the year 1867. I called upon him at the White Horse Hotel, in Eomsey. I did not recognise him at first, because he wa3 sitting with his back to the light. I recognised him immediately afterwards, and I remained conversing with him for some time. I arrived at the conclusion that he was the officer I knew in the regiment. I came to that conclusion very firmly. I then invited him to see Mrs. Sherstone, who knew him in 1853. He came to see us a few days after, in November, 1867. I recognised him by his countenance, by the way he spoke, by the shape of his head and face, and more particularly by a peculiarly distressed look about the eye. His face comes back to me perfectly. I have not the slightest hesitation in recognising him as my old brother officer.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: I have had other letters from him besides that first one which I received. There were four of them. I first saw him on the 15th of November. (Daguerreotype produced.) That is not like him. The shape of the face is similar. I think the expression is unlike. (Photograph in wooden frame produced.) There is more likeness about the eye, but the picture is a bad one. (Photographs marked E and P. produced.) That marked E is a likeness of the plaintiff. The picture in the wooden frame more nearly represents the Iioger Tichborne I knew than photograph E. If photograph E had been shown to me alone, I think I should not have derived the faintest notion that it was Roger Tichborne. I don't think I would recognise photograph F as the portrait of Tichborne. I was not invited to see the plaintiff till July in 1867. I could have seen him before that, and would have been able and willing to do so if I had been asked. There is nothing peculiar in the shape of the head and face, but it is the same shaped face and head as that of Roger Tichborne. I have not «seen thousands of people with the same face. It is a long face, and, I believe, remarkable face. There was nothing except a distressed expression of his eye to distinguish his expression. I remember the hair of Tichborne. My impression is that it was slightly lighter than that of the plaintiff. He did not wear it like plaintiff. It was lank hair, brushed straight down, without any curl. He had an ordinary quantity of hair. It was not thin and scanty; it was not very thick. I think he had scarcely any whisker; it was an incipient whisker. That of the plaintiff is different. I think I recognised his gait, the way in which he stood, and the way he walked. His walk was peculiar, but I can't describe it. I can't walk like him here. He was not lame, nor did he shuffle. I can't describe it. There is no resemblance in plaintiff's body to Roger Tichborne. He was about the same height as myself. I don't know what my own height is. (Laughter.) The plaintiff appears to be a little taller than the Roger Tichborne who left England— about from half an inch to an inch taller. I talked to him. I asked him a question with reference to who lived at Waterford, Lady Barron anil Miss Barron, and he did not remember. I thought he visited them because I visited them. Most of the officers were in the habit of visiting there. I believe all the three officers with the detachment visited there. He did not recollect even the names. I don't know whether the family were Roman Catholics; I think they were not. My impression is that they were not. I did not ask him any more questions. I found my memory was bad too. He asked me who I purchased my troop from, and I could not recollect. Ho talked to me about his adventures and travels. He spoke of lassoing horses. He did not describe the shipwreck of the Bella. He did not explain how it was that he had been picked up at sea. He said something about landing at Melbourne, but I don't think he mentioned about changing his name to Castro. That was on the second interview. I don't remember what took place at the first interview. I identified him from the shape of his face and head, and the distressed look about the eyes, and the gait.

Mr. Hawkins: Was there marked difference in the colour of the hair?—There was a slightly marked difference. It did not attract my attention in particular.

Mr. Hawkins: In your first interview was there a single topic of conversation that was common to both?—Witness: I think there was not: but I cannot remember. I recognised his mode of speaking. It was not the substance of conversation that made me recognise him.

Mr. Hawkins: Was there one single circumstance connected with his military life that he could recall to your mind?—Witness: No, I don't think there was. I believed Mr. Holmes prepared my affidavit. I don't think I mentioned to him about the visit to Lady Barron. Copies of the affidavits were sent to me, but after I saw him—I think after I swore my own affidavit. He told me that he had seen Lady Tichborne, and that she had recognised him.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: Before I saw the claimant I was unfavourably impressed towards him. I recognised him within a few minutes after I saw him. I could give a description of some expressions of countenance, but not of others. I think the plaintiff was right in telling me the name of the person from whom I bought my troop. My deliberate judgment is that the plaintiff' is my old brother officer.

Sergeant-Major William Quinn said: I live in the city of York. I was formerly sergeant-major of the 6th Dragoon Guards. I have retired on a pension after 26 years' service. I started as a private, became corporal, and afterwards sergeant-major. I attained that rank in 1840, and I left the regiment with a full pension. I have been frequently employed in the recruiting service, and have a good memory for faces. I remember Roger Tichborne joining the regiment. I had as good an opportunity of seeing him as any man in the regiment. He was a slight young man, but so awkward in his walk that I could recognise him across the barrack-yard. He was knockkneed—in one leg more than in the other. I have not frequently seen him without his cap. There was a peculiar and rather disagreeable twitching of the eyebrows, which attracted attention. He had a peculiar lisp, and I never heard an officer speak in the same way before. In 1867 I saw the plaintiff at Croydon, between seven and eight in the evening, when the lamps were alight. When I went into the kitchen I observed a black man. (Laughter.) I told him my name, and what I was. I had travelled from York, and I asked for some tea. While I was at tea the plaintiff came in. I did not recognise him. He told me who he was, and said, " I must have a little talk witS you." We then had some conversation. I could not form an opinion until he spoke, and I said, " Excuse me just yet calling you Sir Roger." I asked him to write his name on a piece of paper, and he went to his desk to do so. He wrote bis name twice. I had a soldier's book with me in which Roger Tichborne had written his name fifteen years before, and I compared the signatures. I thought it was the same writing. Mr. Holmes came in and asked me if he was the same man, and I said he was as far as I could judge from the signature. (The hook was produced by witness.) When I saw the first signature I said I do not recollect, this " D " when you were in the regiment. He told me that the name of Doughty had been added. Then he added the second signature, in which there is no "D," only the two letters R. C. I then took the paper direct downstairs, and unlocked my black hag, and compared the writing with that in my book. Although different pens might have been used, the formation of the letters struck me as alike. The gait of young Tichborne was such an awkward walk that I could tell it a long distance off. I made him walk across the floor at Croydon, and there was the same peculiarity. There used to be a twitching about the eyebrows, and a strong French accent, and there are the same signs now, but not in so strong a degree. I said to Mr. Holmes, " He speaks more like a foreigner than an Englishman." I really believe he is the R. C. Tichborne. I don't know anything about Sir Rogers, or D.'s, or P.'s, but the same man who served in my regiment.

By the Solicitor-General: Mr. Holmes was at Croydon and another gentleman whom I do not know. I left Croydon the next day, and did not go again until I was sent for by Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton, whom I had never heard of before. (Laughter.) I believe I have not seen the plaintiff between 1807 and this trial; have never been with him since my visit to Croydon; and I don't recollect corresponding with him. I have not to my recollection written any letters to the claimant, certainly not since the interview at Croydon. I have not received letters from him, but I have had a-letter from Mr. Holmes. (Witness created considerable amusement by hunting in his pocket amongst his letters to see whether there were any from Mr. Holmes, and asking whether the Solicitor-General would like to see a letter from his wife which he found in the bundle). I will not swear positively I had no letter from the claimant since October, 1867; if I had, the matter did not dwell in my recollection. There was one letter before that date, perhaps more, but I will not swear. I may have written one letter to the claimant, but from the number of years that have elapsed I cannot say whether there were more. It is likely that in July, 1867, when the matter first appeared in the papers, I wrote, saying that if anybody could recognise him I could. If I wrote several times I forget. My remembrance is that I announced myself either to Mr. Tichborne or the Globe. I heard from M'Cann, and his letters came to me at Sandhurst, but I knew twelve months before that Roger Tichborne was in England. Carter told me he was a great deal stouter than he used to be in the regiment, but he did not say he was so altered I should not know him. Cairn asked me if I should have an objection to go to Alresford to seo Sir Roger Tiehborne, and I said I should not. Clark's death was very well known in the regiment, of course, but I don't think Carter knew anything about it. I can remember Carter being with Mr. Tiehborne at Canterbury. The return of the claimant to England was naturally the subject of a good deal of conversation in the regiment. Mr. Tiehborne was about 5ft. 8in., or a little more, very thin and slight, small round the waist, and brownish hair. (Photographs handed to witness.) I can see no resemblance at all in these likenesses. I can recognise the features of the claimant as he now is as the same as I used to know in Mr. Tichborne. The eyebrows and face, except the stoutness, are the same.

Mr. Hawkins: Do you remember the nose? Witness—Yes, sir.

Mr. Hawkins: Oh, you do remember the nose. What was it like? Witness—Like the one he has got on his face now. (Loud laughter.) I should think nobody who knew Roger Tichborne in 1853 should mistake him after seeing him a short time now.

The Chief Justice suggested that it would be well to agree upon some neutral designation of the plaintiff. Mr. Hawkins frequently spoke of him as " This man," and the Solicitor-General as " Sir Roger Tichborne."

It was agreed that the plaintiff should be hereafter spoken of in court as the claimant.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

SEVENTH DAY.— THURSDAY, MAY 18.

SIXTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Mrs. Sherstone, wife of Captain Sherstone, examined by Mr. Giffard: I was married in 1851, and afterwards lived with my husband at Waterford and Canterbury. Roger C. Tichborne frequently visited our house, and has dined with us. He was a shy, awkward person, and I should say did not visit ranch. I knew his features perfectly. I saw the present claimant on the 25th November, 1867. When I walked into the room I did not recognise him, but the moment he spoke I did. An expression came over his face which was unmistakeable. I remained an hour or so in conversation with him. The next day I saw him again.

Having seen him on these two occasions, and again now, what is your deliberate judgment and belief about him?—That he is the Roger Tichborne I knew in 1851.

Do you say that without any doubt or hesitation?—Without the least doubt.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: I think it is quite impossible for anyone who knew Roger Tichborne in 1853 not to know the plaintiff. He is exceedingly like him. This portrait (a daguerreotype of Roger Tichborne) is not at all like the young man I knew in 1853. I do not think the photograph (a photograph also of Roger Tichborne) is very like. The eyes and the upper part of the face are rather like. I should not recognise these photographs. I think the lower part of the face is very unlike Roger Tichborne. He had a medium sort of face. I do not see a likeness in the whole face. The third photograph is not a bit like him (another photograph of Roger Tichborne.) The witness was then shown the photograph of another person, and said it was more like the Roger Tichborne of 1853. A further photograph (a full-length portrait) she said was also like him, although it was much stouter. My acquaintance with Roger Tichborne commenced at the end of 1851, when my husband was quartered at Waterford. I never met Roger Tichborne at Lady Barron's. I have seen Captain Polhill there. I saw Roger Tichborne several times; not constantly. He was a great friend of my husband. I never saw any affidavits before I saw the claimant. My husband, I believe, saw some before he had an interview with him.

Mr. Hawkins: You take a particular interest in this case, I believe? -I take an interest in anything I know about it. (Laughter.) I feel I have a particular faculty for remembering faces; I never forget a face. (Laughter.)

Mr. Hawkins: Having that extraordinary faculty, do you see any resemblance in the photographs to Roger Tichborne?—I very seldom see aDy likeness in photographs unless they are very good. (Laughter.)

The witness was then shown a daguerreotype in a frame, supposed to be that of Roger Tichborne, and she said it was more like him than the others; but if given to her at once, without any explanation, she would not have recognised it. Before I saw the plaintiff I had read in the papers that he had considerably altered. I recognised him as soon as he began to speak. He was announced on entering the room. I was prepared for his being altered in size. I saw him between three and four o'clock. He spoke rather broken English, like a foreigner, exactly as Roger Tichborne did, only he spoke better English. I never heard Roger Tichborne speak French, nor the plaintiff. I cannot recollect a single sentence of his broken English. I don't think I noticed a change in his manner. Roger Tichborne was a quiet, shy, awkward man, and this one is the same. (Laughter.)

Mr. Hawkins: I suppose you were struck by the difference between a slight, slim boy and a man of 18 stone?—Yes.

Mr. Hawkins: Had you any conversation about old times?—No; I do not remember much about them myself.

Mr. Hawkins: Perhaps I was wrong in speaking to you about old times. (Laughter.) Was there a single topic you discussed?—He asked me from whom my husband purchased his troop. He also asked my husband. We had all forgotten. (Laughter.) My husband ascertained by looking at an old letter. That is all I remember of the conversation.

Mr. Hawkins: I suppose the rest of the afternoon was spent in listening to his perils and trials? Yes. The first day the plaintiff remained two hours. The next day we drove into Romsey to see him again, and I was more convinced he was the man. I had no doubt the first day.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: Roger Tichborne was at Waterford about two months. Possibly I did not see him there as often as once a week. Captain Polhill was there a shorter time. I was constantly at Lady Barron's, and dined with her. At Canterbury I did not see Roger Tichborne so often—perhaps only twice.

Colonel Charles Sawyer, examined by Mr. Jeune: I was a colonel in the Carabineers, and retired on half-pay in 1863. I was in the regiment in 1849, and remember Roger Tichborne being in the regiment. I was captain then, and remained so till 1856. I remember him up to 1853. I was quartered with him in Portobello Barracks and Canterbury Barracks. During that time I saw him every day. I frequently dined at mess with him. In the year 1867 I received a letter signed by the name of Tichborne, and I went to the claimant at a hotel at Brighton on the 10th November. I talked with him about half an hour. At first I did not recognise him, but after conversing with him for some time I felt sure that he was the Roger Tichborne whom I had known before. As I was going down to the hotel I turned over in my mind what I recollected about him. I recollected his general appearance and bearing, and I particularly recollected his voice. I engaged him in talk as much as I could, and, having heard him talk for some time, I felt perfectly satisfied that it was the voice I used to hear. I talked to him about circumstances that we had known. I asked him several questions, and inquired about his horse. He mentioned to me a chestnut horse. I think he said chestnut, but I use that word with reserve. I said I did not recollect. He said, " Oh, yes, you must recollect the horse that killed my servant." I did not remember that circumstance. I was not quartered at Cahir, and, if I knew it, it had passed away from my recollection. I heard that he had been ill at Clonmel, and I asked him about that, and he appeared to remember nothing about it. I talked to him about Waterford, but solely for the sake of hearing his voice. I thought I would try and puzzle him, and I said, " Do you remember the day we marched from Dublin to Canterbury I"—the fact being that we never marched at all, but went on a steamer from Dublin to Herne Bay.

The Solicitor-General: I think he might well have been puzzled. (Laughter.)

Examination resumed: Seeing him in court I have no recollection at all; but from haying heard the voice, and from the fact of our having gone from Dublin to Heme Bay, I felt sure that he was the man.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: When I first saw him I had not the least notion who he was. My first impnlse was to think that he was an impostor, and to go out of the room; but for his voice, and what he told me about the regiment, I would have, gone oft'. I have heard it mentioned that he was ill at Clonmel, but he did not recollect anything about it. That struck me as very odd. The fact that Ticbborne's servant was killed was well known in the regiment. He might have been put up to anything, and that was the reason I referred to the voice. The recollection about the horse carried some weight, and confirmed the belief which his voice created. The accent and tone of the voice made me recoguise him. I don't know the difference between the tone and the accent.

The Chief-Justice: There is a shrill voice and a rough voice, and there is a foreign or un-English accent.

Witness: It was by the accent that I recognised him. I got a note from him asking me to see him. I was neither glad nor sorry to see him.

Mr. Hawkins: If you bad been aware that Carter, in his affidavit in June, 1867, had disclosed the fact that Tichborne's horse had ran off and killed his servant, would that have affected your judgment?

Witness: I should not be surprised at the claimant mentioning it in November. There was no reason why my interview should be kept secret.

The following letter was then read:—

2, Wellesley-villas, Nov, 10, 1867.

My dear Mamma,---I have just returned from Brighton. I am very sorry I was not at home when you came yesterday. But it is so necessary that I should get all the witnesses I can. I saw Col. Sawyer at Brighton yesterday, and he was very glad to see me. I do not wish you, my dear mamma, to tell any one that I have seen him yet, or I have not yet got his affidavit. He was out hunting, and will sign to-morrow.

I have not been home long home or I should have come up to see you to-night. I am going to Caterham to-morrow. I have now altered my mind—I think I will come to London. Many of the children are all quite well.—Hoping, my dear mama, that you are the same, &c.,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Re-examiued by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I should think I shook hands with him when I said good-bye.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine here stated that he should now call the servant Moore, instead of further military evidence, which he would postpone till a future time in accordance with the request of the Solicitor-General, since Mr. Hawkins had undertaken the cross-examination of this class of witnesses, and he was really too hoarse to continue it to-day. (The learned counsel had been suffering from hoarseness for the last two days.) He stated now, for the convenience of all, that after the examination of Moore he would call Carter and Bogle, and then probably the claimant himself.

His Lordship: I am glad to see these courtesies being exchanged between you, which are for the advantage of all.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Oh! my lord, I am happy to say there are few substantial differences between us, and when we walk away they are all made up.

John Moore, examined by Mr. Giffard: I am fifty-one years of age. I remember being at Upton House, near Poole, when I was young. My father was a servant for more than twenty-five years in the Doughty family. I went to Upton House when I was fourteen years of age. I was with Mr. Jones, and remained with him till his death, and he left me a legacy. I had a letter from my father, stating that Mr. Roger Tiehborne wanted a servant, and I went to Stape Hill, near Wimborne. I engaged with him near the end of 1852. I remember the date, because it was about the time of the funeral of the Duke of Wellington. I went about the estate with him shooting. I remember him stocking the island with rabbits. A person of the name of Gould used to come to Upton. They used to make appointments. Gould used to meet Tiehborne with a boat. I remember that Gould brought up two large pairs of fishing boots, and Tichborne purchased the smallest pair, though he complained that they were too large for him. I remember him once trying to prove if there was water enough in the bay. He went down to the bay, and he went on to the mud, and he stuck fast, and, the boots being so large, he took his feet out and left the boots sticking in the mud. A boy, named Crabbe, was sent down to fetch the boots. I recollect on one occasion being asked to go in a boat to chase some poachers. I objected to go.

The Chief-Justice here pointed out that these incidents were not at present evidence; and that if every occurrence in the life of Roger Tichhorne was to be gone into there was no chance of the case being terminated for years. They could not be received until other evidence—such, for instance, as that of the claimant himself—had been given to make them relevant.

Mr. Giffard said that, without conceding he was not entitled to detail incidents in this form, he would as far as possible conform to his lordship's view, and take them as generally as possible.

Examination resumed: In 1866 I was in Edinburgh, and heard of the claimant's return when in the Highlands. I am a butler by occupation, and was last in service with Mr. Roskell for eight months, and before that with Mr. Reginald Talbot, of Lyme Regis, a nephew of Lady Doughty. I never had any connexion with Mr. Bowker or Messrs. Dobinson and Geare, but I had with Mr. Cullington, and gave him a diary I kept when on board ship. My first interview with the claimant was on the 24th of January last. I saw him before then, but not to speak to—first at Croydon in going from his house to a cab, and also at the Law Institution, in Chancery lane, in 1867. The first time I went to Croydon I was in the company of Whicher, the detective, but I did not then see the claimant. At the Law Institution, Mr. Cullington, the solicitor, had my journal and other information besides, with which I supplied him. I heard the plaintiff's examination. I gave my statement in writing, and it included all I knew.

What was the impression on your mind about the plaintiff at that time?—After hearing the evidence about the loss of the ship I thought it was impossible Roge$$Unclear$$ Tichborne could come forward.

But having seen the plaintiff, and heard him examined on that occasion, what conclusion did you arrive at?—On the first day I arrived at no conclusion, being careful in coming to one. On the second day I had a better opportunity of seeing him. He got up from his chair and went to the further end of the room, where the light was on his face. I saw him laugh, and I may say almost cry. I was astonished, and I went away and pondered over the matter, and said to myself, " You really must be Roger Tichborne, but I won't say so yet." I remained for an hour longer, and ultimately I arrived at the decided conclusion that he was Roger Tichborne. I afterwards saw: Lady Doughty, and told her what my impression was.

It was here stated that Lady Doughty was not a party to this suit, and the con. versation that passed was objected to by the Solicitor-General, and not given.

When I first saw the plaintiff I asked him about things known to me and him. $$Unclear$$ had several interviews with him since in the presence of Mr. Spofforth, one of the solicitors for the plaintiff. I examined him upon matters he and I could only know.

What is your conviction and judgment now on the subject?—The same as $$Unclear$$ three years ago. I am perfectly confident he is no other than Roger. Tichborne, or the devil himself. (Laughter.) On the 1st of March, 1853, I embarked with him on board the Pauline, at Havre, as his servant.

This was objected to, on the ground already raised, but Mr. Serjeant Ballantine stated that he and his learned fri$$Unclear$$ felt themselves considerably hampered by the concession they had already made, and that they intended to insist on their, right to prove the history and career of this witness so far as they deemed it neces sary, and to take his lordship's opinion upon the point.

The Chief-Justice: In some cases evidence not relevant at the time is taken on the assurance of counsel that it will be made so by further evidence, but if the objection is raised that can't be done.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I submit that every incident in the career of the gerenine Roger Tichborne is relevant, and we are entitled to prove everything which occurred from the time he and Moore embarked until they separated.

The Solicitor-General: It is endeavouring to give those matters in confirmation of the claimant in his hearing, and before he is called, which I may have to apply as a test in cross-examination. Knowing the case I have, however, I do not inte$$Unclear$$ persist in my objection.

The Chief Justice: I have no doubt that the usual course is to put the claimant forward first, and let him be examined and cross-examined. When the case $$Unclear$$ taken out of the ordinary course the Solicitor-General has a perfect right to insist upon this objection. He says, however, as I understand him, that unless my opinion is clear he does not intend to do so. I think it right to make a strong observation.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I think your lordship in this case can hardly know what is the best course for us. We have most carefully considered this matter, and have come to the conclusion that the one we propose is the proper and a fair course feeling sure that if it is not we shall derive no benefit from it.

The Chief Justice: I have intimated no opinion that the course is unfair, $$Unclear$$ that it is unusual. I did not intend to convey an opinion that it is unfair.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine (after consulting with his learned friend): My Lord, I don't know that we shall be successful, but we will endeavour to meet your lordship's views as far as possible.

The course afterwards followed was to prove the conversations with the claimant before the incidents to which they referred.

Examination continued: I first saw Roger Tichborne in January of the $$Unclear$$ rear, at the Waterloo Hotel, Jormyn-street, in the presence of Mr. Spofforth. I asked him if lie could say what he took with him to South America. He said, " Did I not take a large box and some tools?" and I nodded assent. I askod him if there was any particular instrument among the tools. He said, " Do you mean the tomahawk?" I said, " Yes." He pointed to a skin or rug on the chair and asked if I recollected an animal like that. I said, " A gunnaea." The plaintiff said, " Did I not leave such an animal with you?" I asked if it was alivo or dead. " Alive, I believe," he replied. He recollected he got it from a photographer, and mentioned his name, but not at the same interview. I asked him if he recollected anything about a fish-hook. He thought for a time and said, " Yes, I ought to have a mark upon my eye." I did not assist him to remember, beoauso my object was to find whether or not he was an impostor. I asked him how it happened. He did not seem to recollect how it happened, but said the hook was dragged right through his eye. He said ho thought it was cut off with pinchers. I said, " No, a tile." He seemed to have a positive recollection of the pinchers. I think now they tried to pinch it off but they could not, and then they filed it off. Until he reminded me the pinchers had escaped my memory. I asked him on what part of the vessel this happened, hut he did not seem to have any recollection of that. Ho said ho was laid on his back to have the hook cnt of. He went to the window to let me see if there was any mark. The eyesight was not injured, only the lid. I looked at the eye and I saw what I thought a spec or mark, but it was very slight. It was about the middle of tho right eyelid.

The Chief-Justice: What was about the size of it?—Witness: It was as big as a large pin's head.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said Sir William Ferguson had seen the mark.

Witness: The occurrence happened in this way. It. took place on a Whitsunday. The plaintiff invited the captain to teach him how to skin birds. Being a Sunday,! had refused to do so myself. Roger Tichborne said, " Perhaps you will put all things in readiness," and I said, " Yes, certainly." I suspended a fish-hook by a string from the beam of the ship below. He had not been down long before he met with the accident. The hook moved to and fro, from the motion of the ship, and I presume, in stooping to pick up something, it caught his eye, and passed through the lid. The bird to be kinned had not been suspended, but there were half-a-dozen sea-birds ready to be skinned. The incident is not in my diary, but for a certain reason, I don't know the names of the birds. The men gave them French names. It was a French ship. Some of the birds were like pigeons, and speckled. The men spoke of them as " damuds." An alarm was raised; I undid the string, and Mr. Tichborne was laid on the table on his back. The hook was thick, and it had to be filed. I asked him about Santiago. He did not seem to have a recollection of the correct description of the different places. He asked me if I recollected the death of a young lady on a seat in a walk there. I did not remember it. He said he believed the accident with the hook took place in the water-closet of the ship, and I replied, " I must not say." The occurrence did take place there. He mentioned about his gun being bought in Dublin, and then he mentioned his pistols, which he said he got at Blissets. I said, " No." I thought the name was Riley. I remember the shop. I afterwards went and saw the shop; it is Blisset's. I asked him if he remembered saying anything to me about the diary, and he replied, " I told you not to jot down anything about me." That was a fact. This was on the voyage. I recollect his saying about the hook, " Don't let Lady Doughty know anything about that." It was owing to what he said that so little appears in my diary about him. He said to me that he recollected very little about what did happen on board, but he did recollect a machine for spinning tar cord. I did not remember it at the time, but afterwards I recollected it perfectly. He drew a plan of it, and explained its motion to me. I never saw such a thing before or since. My only voyage on board ship was to Valparaiso and back again. He spoke about pigs running about the deck. I had to think for a moment whether that was correct. It was correct. I asked him if he had any recollection of repairs to the rudder. He seemed to remember about some gear for steering, but lie did not recollect about any repairs. Something did happen to the rudder. He said, " You know that at Santiago I wore breeches and boots." I asked what was the colour of the former, and he replied dirty brown or ochre, which was quite right. He could not, to my astonishment, recollect what my occupation was at Santiago. He spoke about a store, but ho did uot know where ic was. I did keep a store. I asked him if he left any other animal with me when he left Santiago. He was not able to remember for a long time, but he did ultimately. He went away, and soon afterwards (in about a quarter of an hour) he sent a note to Mr. Spofforth, saying what the animal was. (Letter produced.)

The Attorney-General said he did not think the letter of the plaintiff to his solicitor was evidence.

The letter was, however, admitted. It was as follows:—

Wed., May 3. 1-40.

Dear Mr. Spofforth,—The animal Moore spoke of was a dog, dark colour, almost without hair. It occurred to me just after 1 left. It was called an eliphant skined dog.

The Solicitor-General: " Elephant" is spelt with an " i," and " skinned " with one " n."

Examination resumed: I don't fully understand the meaning of an elephant-skinned dog. It was a large smooth skinned dog. It was oak-coloured. The skin might be mottled or shady. The hair was smooth and shiny. I saw him again, in order to see whether he could tell the name of the dog. I said it was an animal to which he gave a name that he should recollect. He could not remember the name. I suggested whether it would be fair to write a list of names, and I was told it would. I wrote a list of names. I showed that to the claimant, and asked him whether he could point out the name of the dog. When he saw the list he immediately picked out the name. The name was Tearcoat. There were fifteen or sixteen names, and I have an account to convince you that that was the name of the dog.

Account produced as follows:—

COLIN CAMPBELL.

Santiago, May 8th, 1854.

[The reading of the account was received with laughter.] Ikept the name of the dog quite a secret. I asked him if he recollected me when coming to Santiago the second time. I asked, " Where did we go then?" He said, " We went to take a bath—did we not?" I said, " Where was it?" and he replied, " We went out down the street to take the bath, and did not take it in the hotel," which was the fact. He had been away four or five months. My store was situated opposite to the hotel door; and sitting behind the counter, I saw him entering the hotel, and thought I recognised his boots. When I saw him he was covered with dust from head to foot, with a scarred nose, and really wanted a bath. He was much altered, but I had no difficulty in recognising him. I did not identify his boots at first, but the thought struck me that somebody else had boots like his. I asked him if he recollected anything about chasing poachers in Toole Island. He seemed to recollect it at once. There were people on the island, on which were some rabbits; and he wanted me to go after the poachers in a boat; hut I had something else to do, and objected. He seemed to remember all about this, and observed that he followed them into the harbour. I put the questions, I believe, in a proper way, or Mr. Spofforth would have told me that I was wrong. I remember gathering ivy for a certain purpose, but I cannot say that I asked him any questions on that subject. I do not remember the claimant asking me if I knew why he left England. I asked him a variety of other things, but I cannot exactly say what they were now. There is one thing certainly that I can refer to, and that convinces me of his identity more than anything else. I asked him what he did with a tomahawk. He said he did not know. I said, " What made you take it out with you?" He replied, " I don't know." I said, " I thought you were going to give it to some Indian chief. What did you take it out for?" He answered, " Oh. to chop something with." I thought this was a most remarkable reply, because he had told me exactly the same thing when we started out together. I think we referred to some photographs of a supper. With regard to the supper, he had invited a number of friends to the Hotel de Santiago previous to his leaving, and 1 asked him if he recollected anything about it. At first he seemed to remember very little; then he mentioned the name of a person named Appleby, whom I knew well, and he inquired of me if he was there. I did not reply, but pressed him for other names. He kept on with Apploby, and said he must have been there; but when I told him I could not say, he mentioned no more about it. In a day or two, however, he referred to the subject again, and said he remembered Appleby being at the hotel asleep on the bed, and getting no supper. I thought this a very remarkable circumstance indeed. I think he said he did not recollect how the photographs were taken; and I took care not to inform him. I was not surprised at his not knowing. They were taken on the morning he started from Santiago to cross the mountains. I am alluding to the photographs which I sent home from South America. The plaintiff, I remember, had had no supper, because some other people had eaten it; but he distinctly remembered a salad being left for him. He did not go to bed that night. I remember getting the photographs talsgn of him by a ruse. I induced him to go to the artist's under the pretence of bidding him good bye. I had arranged that he should be invited to sit down under the camera. When we went I said to the artist, " Here is Mr. Tichborne come to bid you good-bye " The artist then asked hiin to sit down and allow him to have a look at him through his glass. Mr. Tichborne sat down just as he was attired for starting across the Cordilleras, and two daguerreotypes were taken of him. One of them I sent to Lady Tichborne, and the other I kept myself, but ultimately gave it to Lady Doughty. (Daguerreotype produced.) I have no reason to doubt this is the same. It may be a facsimile, certainly.

Mr. Hawkins: This is the identical one which was exhibited in Chili.

[The photographs were here handed to the jury, and some time was occupied in their inspection.]

Examination continued: The frame is the same. His mind, I suppose, was compos mentis at the time. (Laughter.) He had been lying on the bed, and had had a good deal of sleep, certainly; but I suppose he was up that morning at half-past three, and had walked about till half-past six, the hour at which he started away. I remember the claimant fetching a doctor for me when I was ill, and this he referred to before I had mentioned anything about it whatever. I asked him if he remembered sending any dirty linen home in a box, or any skins of birds, and he said " Yea," and that he had seen them at Tichborne, as also some pictures, which he had sent from Peru. I do not recollect whether he answered my question as to dirty clothes. I can't say whether I asked him anything about shirts on board ship.

What is your conviction now as to the man?—Taking into consideration the answers he has given, particularly that about the tomahawk, his looks, and so forth, I am convinced he is Roger Tichborne as much as I am John Moore.

Mr. Giffard said that they had much more evidence of a similar kind, but he wished to know whether they should give it now or after the claimant had been examined.

The Chief-Justice thought the better course would be to tender it after the claimant had been heard.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said he should not object to the cross-examination of this witness being deferred if it would suit the convenience of his learned friend.

The Chief-Justice intimated that the concession was a very considerate one, and the cross-examination was accordingly postponed.

Mr. John Greenwood, examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I was formerly a military tailor, and now reside at Boston Spa, Yorkshire. In 1849 I was tailor to the 6th Dragoon Guards, and remember Mr. Roger Tichborne joining the regiment. I used to travel with them, and I constantly saw him and the other officers. I can give his size to a shade, if that will do.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We can't want more.

Examination continued: The first time I measured him he was 36 inches round the ehest and 29½ round the waist. (Laughter.) That would he a very short time after he joined. I have not got his height, because it was not necessary for me to have it. The next measurement is 37 chest and 29 waist, showing that he was ha'f an inch less in the waist and an inch more in the chest. I did not notice his hands or feet; that was a shoemaker's job. I can't speak as to his education. I am not a very well-educated man myself, and can't go into that.

The Chief-Justice: Have you any other measurements?

Witness: Oh, yes. The length from tho centre seam of the back down to the edge of the cuff was 32½ inches.

The Chief-Justice: Just point it out on the usher. (Laughter.)

Examination continued: I have no measurement of his legs. But I went down to Croydon—

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We will come to that presently.

Witness: All right. (Laughter.) The lirst intimation I had of his loss was a letter referring to an application with respect to his measurement, and was told to go to Wellesley-villa, Croydon. He was not there when I entered, but presently he arrived, and I certainly did not expect to see him expanded in the way he was. (Laughter.) He walked out of the cab and into the room where I was sitting. The moment he opened the door he said, " Well, Greenwood, you have not changed much; you are as young as ever."

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: He paid you a great compliment, then. (Laughter.)

Examination continued: He asked me to sit down. I said, " I suppose I am brought here to identify you." I then said, " Do yon know how the barracks at Cahir were supplied with water?" He said, " Yes, an old man used to bring water with a donkey-cart, and I remember the pranks that Captain Pinkney used to play him." This was correct, because the officers used to pull the plug out of the cart, and let the water run away. He described his room in the barracks, and about the officers pitching his things out of the window. I said, " Do you remember the practical joke they played you?" " Yes," he said, " they pitched my things into the yard." Then he asked me if I knew who put the cow-itch into his bed, and I said I did not, and if I did I should not have told. (Laughter.) He recognised the photograph of Quarter-Master Fraser in a group. I asked him what things I made him during the first twelve months, and he referred to a monkey-jacket, which he had had a good many years. I told him I did not remember that; but my son has since found an entry of it in my ledger. I asked him if he recollected any coats exclusive of regimentals that I made him. He said this was a strong test after so long a time; and I said, " Yes, but I want to test you." He considered for some minutes, and then said, " Yes, you made me a scarlet hunting coat with the H H buttons on" (Hampshire Hunt). I asked him about a very particular coat, and he thought for some time, and then said, '' Well, you made me a drab driving coat, the same as for Captain Haywood." Those, I consider, are very particular coats, and they are entered in my hook. His answers with respect to each of them were perfectly correct. I have not the measurement for his trousers; a leaf of the book is missing. It is in a dilapidated state. When I and my son went to visit liim I asked him to let me look at the last pair of " overalls."

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: His what?

Witness: His trousers, if you like. (Laughter.) He produced a pair of regimental trousers, and I measured him, and the measurement did not vary half an inch in the length. I saw him again about six months ago—I found he was much stouter then than he was when at Wellesley-villas. He is considerably stouter—the only thing left of him is about his eyes. (Laughter.) He had lost his foreign accent to a great extent when I first saw him. I think the tone of voice is the same. I have no doubt whatever that he is the identical man.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: What opportunities hare you had of talking to him?—You need not ask me such a question as that—a man has plenty of opportunities of talking to his tailor, surely. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: I did not ask you for that impertinent answer. How many times have you seen him.?—Three times—at Croydon, Brompton, and the Waterloo Hotel. I heard of his loss the first time from the letter sent me by my son. I left the regiment when they went out to India in 1856. My son is following my business now. I asked him to look in the ledger for Mr. Tichborne's account, and if he found it to send it to me. I went to Croydon in consequence of a letter I received from Mr. Holmes. I said I was going to Canterbury, and would call at Croydon. I called at Mr. Holmes's office as I went through London. Mr. Holmes did not ask to see the book. I went from Canterbury to Croydon. (Ledger produced.) The pea-jacket is entered in the last page. No one saw that book from the time I left Yorkshire till I took it to Croydon. Mr. Tichborne paid me for the clothing. I cannot say whether it was by cheque or not—all I know is, that the account is paid. My dealings with him lasted during the whole time he was in the regiment. The £151 would be paid most likely by cheque. I made clothes for all his servants. Their names are entered. The entry you spoke of is one made by your clerk.

The Solicitor-General: Who is your clerk?

Witness: My sleeping partner.

The Solicitor-General: But who is that?

Witness: Why, Mrs. Greenwood, of course. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice mildly reproved the witness for his reply.

The Solicitor-General: It is an old joke of our grandmother's, certainly.

Cross-examination continued: My first communication from my son was in March or April, 1867. I heard nothing more of the Tichborne matter till I saw a paragraph in the newspapers about hia return and his claim being disputed, I have heard from Mr. Holmes perhaps three times altogether. I did not recognize the claimant the moment he entered the room at Croydon, but as he sat in the chair I had an opportunity of looking right into his face, and I became satisfied it was tho same. The voice had lost its strong French accent, hut the tone was the same. I don't know whether he was in the habit of talking French. At Croydon he spoke like an Englishman in every way. I think the French accent had almost entirely gone. I saw Carter and M'Cann, his old servants, were there. I was not aware they had been staying in the house for some time previously. I suppose that every one in the regiment would know of the trick with the donkey-cart—the pulling the spigot out, I mean. M'Cann knew, of course, where his room in the barracks was. Mr. Pinkuey was a lieutenant at the time. I knew Major Phillip?, now living at Brompton. I male his clothes when in the regiment. An affidavit was sent me by Mr. Holmes, I believe. No statement was taken from me previously. It was sent to me in Canterbury after I had seen Sir Roger and Mr. Baigent. I did not know the latter gentleman, hut I thought ho was a friend of the family. There was one little thing in the affidavit which I did not think was quite correct. It stated that I recognized the claimant at once; that was not so, if it is to he taken that I recognized him as soon as I put my eyes on him. I began to recognize him the moment he sat down in the chair. The substance of the affidavit was correct, but that little bit was, perhaps, a shade wrong. (Laughter.) I never furnished a copy of the book to the claimant. It was about six months ago when he produced the trousers. I had to go to Major Phillips, and then I called upon him. I had made them eighteen years ago. I did not see M'Cann on that occasion. (Photograph produced.) I do not recognize the party; but perhaps the upper part of the face is something like what Mr. Tichborne was when he left. He had bushy eyebrows, and I fancy it is so in the portrait. The photograph does not resemble him. I don't think hi ever looked so stupid or slespy as that. (Photograph C produced.) I think that is the same as the other. Photograph D I should say is more like him. I do not consider the one in the frame a striking likeness, but the face is more like him than the rest. Photograph E is the claimant. It is like the Roger Tichborne of 1853 about tho eyes. Taking off that, you must not go down the nose.

The Solicitor-General: I don't want to go down the nose at all. (Laughter.)

Cross-examination continued: It is like Roger Tichborne, with his heavy eyebrows, oertainly. I did not say anything about the monkey jacket in my first affidavit. I corrected that, and inserted the circumstances with respect to the monkey jacket. A second affidavit was then sent me. If the monkey jacket is entered in the book it will be in the bill certainly.

By the Jury: I did not measure the trousers round the waist, but only the legs.

Cross-examination continued: I considered his height was about 5 feet 7½ inches.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The ledger was filled up in 1855. It has never been out of mine or my son's custody at all.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Perhaps you won't object to it's going out of your custody now?—Not in the least; the accounts are all paid. (Laughter.) I never had occasion to send the bills to his father. No alteration whatever has been made in the book.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine desired that the affidavit of this witness should be read, which was done, and is as follows:—

I am 55 years of age. From the year 1843 to the year 1856 I was regimental tailor to the 6th Dragoon Guards (Carabineers). I well remember Mr. Roger Chas. Tichborne joining the regiment as cornet about the end of Oct., 1849. I accompanied the regiment from station to station, I well knew and was intimately acquainted with the said R. C. Tichborne from the time of his joining the regiment in 1849 till his retirement therefrom in or about the month of January, 1853, at which time I was with the regiment, then stationed at Canterbury. Mr. R. C. Tichborne kept an account with me during the whole time I was with the regiment, and I supplied him with many suits of clothing and articles of apparel, and was, in fact, his tailor; consequently I had continued opportunities of seeing him and of speaking to him. I well know and distinctly remember his features and personal appearance. On the 23rd of July, 1867, I went to No. 2, Wellesloy Villas, Croydon, for the purpose of seeing the above-named plaintiff, whom I had not seen since he left the regiment in 1853. I did see him, and at once recognized him as the gentleman whom I formerly knew as a commissioned officer in the Carabineers, from 1849 till 1853, first as cornet and afterwards as a lieutenant, and who was gazettod and known as R. C. Tichborne. Though much increased in size since I last saw him, his height is the same, and I distinctly recognize him by the upper part of his face, eyes, and eyebrows, and also by his voice, and am quite sure and certain .is to his being the person known as Mr. R. C. Tichborne, whom I formerly knew. In order that I might be perfectly satisfied as to his identity in case I recognized him, I took with me to Wellesley Villas my old lodger, containing my accounts and entries of the articles which I supplied to the various officers of the regiment during the years 1849, 1850, 1851, 1852, and 1853, and which said book has ever since been in my possession, and the plaintiff had no access to it, Mr. Cornet Tichberne's account is entered in the said book, page 34, and commences with the year 1849, and is carried on and continued in subsequent page sunde the heading of Tichborne, and ends with the year 1853, or thereabouts. I also took with me a certain photographic portrait of Captain Fraser, formerly quartermaster of the regiment, and which I has in my possession for many years. The plaintiff did not know I had such a portrait, or that I intended to show any portrait or picture to him, and I took it with mo for the express purpose of testing the plaintiff, by seeing if he could possibly tell me whose portrait it was. I took the photograph from my pocket, and without saying a word as to who it represented, I handed it to the plaintiff, and said, " Do yon know who that is?" He looked at it, and, recognizing the features, said immediately, " That is Fraser, the quartermaster." I believe the plain iff had not seen Captain Fraser since the year 1853. I afterwards asked tho plaintiff if he could tell me what was the last coat I made him. He reflected, and in a minute said, "Why, it must have been the scarlet hunting coat you made which had the 'H. H.' buttons I referred to my said ledger, and found such a coat entered towards the end of his account, and the buttons specially named, and I then discovered that I had act ally supplied him with the coat he described to me; but I found it was not the last coat I made for him, as there was another named just below it. I held the book in making the reference in such a position that the plaintiff could not see the entries, and perceiving such an entry I concealed that portion of the leaf beneath my hand, and said to him, "There was another coat you had after that; can't you recollect it, and what sort of coat it was; After a pause, he described a driving coat of a certain colour, material, and texture. This was quite correct, and was the last coat I made for him. He also mentioned a brother officer, for whom I made a similar coat. He likewise referred to other garments and things which he had of me, which I found corroborated by the entries in my ledger. I conversed with him for some considerable time, and he mentioned and recalled to my memory many things which happened when he was with the regiment, both in Ireland and England, and answered correctly the questions I put to him, and also spoke of his brother officers in the clearest possible manner.

I am quite certain, and as positively swear that the plaintiff is the same person whom I formerly knew as an officer in the 6th Dragoon Guards (Carabineers), gazetted, known, and called by the name of Roger Charles Tichborne, and have not the shadow of a doubt as to his identity, as it is a matter of absolute certainty, and it is impossible I can be mistaken after what passed between us.

The statements herein contained are -within my own knowledge.

JOHN GREENWOOD.

Sworn at the City of Canterbury, en the 27th day of July, 1867.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

EIGHTH DAY. — FRIDAY, MAY 19.

SEVENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Mr. Walter John Greenwood, examined by Mr. Jeune: I am the son of the last witness called. I succeeded him in his business in November, 1866. The books were then handed over to me, aud they have since been in my keeping. They were never out of my custody until I sent them to my father. I looked for the entry of the jacket; that was at Canterbury, and I found it.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: The bills were not made out regularly and sent to customers. I know Mr. Baigent. He never has applied for an inspection of the books. I saw him once in London with my father last October. I believe he took great interest in this case. He never spoke to me about the books, nor, I believe, to my father. He may have done to my father. He knew my father was a witness, and he may have spoken to him about the books. On my oath, I would not swear that ho did not. I believe they didl speak about the books. Upon my oath I do not know positively. The conversation when I was in the room was carried on in an undertone. I have been told that they did talk about the books. Well, I do know that they talked about them to a certain extent. My father told me that Baigent had spoken to him about the books. They were in conversation five or six minutes. They were at Mr. Spofforfch's office. I don't know whether Baigent is a lawyer's clerk. I did not hear him put any questions to my father about the books. They talked about the trial.

Mr. Hawkins: Was the scarlet hunting coat with H H buttons mentioned?—No answer was given to the question, and it was repeated three times. When it was repeated the third time witness, after some delay, answered: It was.

The Chief-Justice: Why did you not answer that question in distinct terms when it was put to vou twice? Explain that.

Witness: The conversation was in an undertone.

The Chief-Justice: Why did you not at once say that, instead of obliging the counsel to repeat the question? I warn you it is your duty on your oath to answer the questions distinctly.

Mr. Hawkins: What was said about the coat?—I really cannot recollect the conversation.

Mr. Hawkins: Try and recollect.—My father slated that he hail mario tne coat, and that Sir Roger Tichborne had told hira that he did. My father stated that he found the entry correctly mentioned.

Mr. Hawkins: Why, then, on your oath, did you say just now that you heard $$Unclear$$thing about the books?

Witness: The conversation about the books was told me by my father.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you hear the monkey jacket mentioned?—I think I did.

Mr. Hawkins: Do you not know that you heard it mentioned?—I think it was snoken of. I will not swear that it was spoken of on that occasion.

Mr. Hawkins: Was there any conversation that was not about the clothes?—There was a conversation about the postponement of the trial.

Mr. Hawkins: Was not the whole of the conversation about clothes?—No, it was not. A gentleman came in and my father entered into conversation with him.

Mr. Hawkins: Was not the whole of the conversation between Baigent, Mr. Spofforth, sud your father about the clothes?—I will not swear that it was not. I think my father had one book with him. The book was opened in the office in Baigent's presence, and in Mr. Spofforth's and my father's. Tlio book was looked at by all four of ue. We were not there longer than six or ten minutes. I did not know that Baigent was going to Spofforth's office that day. My father did not tell me that Baigent was to be there. I don't know who appointed the hour of the interview. I have seen Baigent once since that occasion, at Mr. Spofforth's office. I went there to ask ifthe trial was to be postponed, and saw Mr. Baigent there. There is not a leaf out of the book, so far as I know.

Mr. Giffard: There is no leaf out.

Mr. Hawkins: Oh, very well.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The first time that I saw Mr. Baigent at Spofforth's office was in October, 1870. I was told after that interview that I might he required. My evidence was not taken down, but I think the first affidavit was corrected. It had been made throe years previously. I had possession of the book since 1866, till my father sent for it. It is in the same state as it was since I first took charge of it. I heard my father speak of this matter very often.

Mr. Antony John Wright Biddulph, examined by Mr. Giffard: I am a justice of the peace for the county of Sussex, and a second cousin of Sir Roger Tiehborne. There was an intimate acquaintance between my family and the plaintiff's. About 1848 or 1849 I was a good deal with Mr. Tiehborne; for a fortnight I wss with him every day. I saw the plaintiff after his return, in the summer of 1867, st Croydon. I went to him. I believe he thought I was coming, but did not know the day. I had formed a strong prejudice against him, and denounced him as an impostor. My prejudice was all in favour of Alfred's child. I went to Croydon, and wae in his company about three hours, or three hours and a half. I observed carefully both his demeanour, voice, and countenance. It was so long a time since I had seen aiy oensin that I could not positively swear that I saw the likeness. There was something in the up per part of the face that was like the man supposed to be drowned, ami there was some likeness to the other members of the family. There was more likeness to other members of the family whose faces were more recent in my recollection. I thought his voice very similar to that of the deceased baronet, the father of the infant claimant. Sometimes when he finished liis sentences I could have thought it was Alfred talking. There was something peculiar in the way in which ho finished sentences. It was a drawl that Alfred had. I knew Alfred very well. He was constantly at my house. 1 don't recollect the face of Roger, but the present man had a peculiarity which 1 have seen in many members of the family—a twitching of the eyebrows. Alfred had it to a certain extent; Mr. Robert Tiehborne, of Bath, to a still greater extent; and Sir E. Doughty a little. I tested the claimant by asking questions. I observed I was very glad to see him well, and that he had been saved from the dangers to which he had been exposed, and had come back to inherit Iris estates. I then said, " It's a long time since we met." He said, " It is." I said, "Do you recollect where?" He said, " Bath." I said, " You were staying with your uncle Robert." Ho said, "I was by way of staying with him, but I was living at an hotel." I said, "Can you tell me what hotel?" He said it was ke " White something." There were then three hotels of that name in Bath—the White Hart, the White Lion, and the White Lamb. He said, " It was the hotel nearest the market-place. i said, " That is the White Lien where you were staying;" and then asked, " Do you recollect my mother and sisters?" He said, " I constantly saw them." I said, " Do you recollect my lunching with you one day?" He said ho did, and I continued to say, " I lunched with you at your hotel, and for some reason or other—I think it was wet—we retired to your room to smoke. Had you any peculiar pipes?" He said, " I had two death's-head pipes." I said, " That is the question I wished you to answer. I recollect you more by your death's-head pipes than by anything else." (Laughter.) They were the first two of the sort I had ever seen. It is also the fact that the hotel where he had been staying was the hotel near the market-place, and it was the White Lion. It was a fact that we smoked two death's-head pipes. Sir Roger Tichborne then left the room to prepare some wine for luncheon. I talked to him with reference to members of the family, and he seemed to me to have a thorough knowledge of them. Since the interview 1 have acknowledged and treated him as my cousin. In 1808 my wife and I were sponsors to his son. The christening was at the chapel at Tichborne. After the christening we went for a drive. I drove by a lane all round the park, and remember saying when we came to two corresponding gates—one leading out of the park, and the other leading to some fields—" That is a gate that I remember passing through with Katie." One day, speaking of my cousin, I went with her and Captain Greenwood, and we met Tichborne liding back to Brookwood. He said, " No, it is not. In a few hundred yards you will come to the gate, because I know the road that George Greenwood always rode." When we came to the next gate he said, " That's were you went, and you passed by the Lovers' Seat." I had forgotten for fifteen or sixteen years that there was a place called the Lovers' Seat; but it flashed across my mind instantly that I had been told at dinner that we had ridden past the Lovers' Seat, I had forgotten the circumstance altogether till he recollected it. I have seen him from time to time since mv first interview.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: What is now your deliberate judgment as to his identity? —My deliberate judgment is that he is my cousin, or I would not have stood up for him as long as I have done. The more I see of him the more I am convinced he is my cousin.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I had a strong prejudice against him, and denounced him as an impostor. That was from what I heard.

I suppose you denounced him with great vigour?—Well, I think I apostrophised it on more thar. one occasion.

The Solicitor-General: You mean that you used a word with a dash and a fourth letter? (Laughter.)—Something of that kind.

The Solicitor-General: I suppose you did it pretty often?—Well, one does not use that word in the presence of ladies.

The Solicitor-General: Well, a lady-like equivalent, my learned friend aays—a " blessed impostor."

Cross-examination resumed: I received a message from the Dowager Lady Tichborne, asking me to go and see the claimant. The message came through Mr. Antony Norris, the solicitor to Lady Tiehborne. He was talcing an active interest in the matter. He sent me no affidavits to read before I went down. He went down with me to Croydon, and with a gentleman, of the name of Stephen Tucker. I think he showed me some photographs, but I don't recollect him showing me any affidavits. Very probably he did tell me that a number of persons had made affidavits in favour of the claimant; but I had not seen them at that time. It might be a few days or a week before we went down that I had the communication from Mr. Antony Norris. I know now that Mr. Norris and Mr. Tucker were in constant communication with him. I made my own affidavit on the 13th July, 1867. I am not aware who drew it. I believe it came from Mr. Norris or from BJr. Holmes. I had said that I was ready to depose to what I had heard and seen. I said that on the day I saw Tichborne, after I had left Croydon, I turned to Tucker and Norris and said, " I came here believing this man to be an impostor; I believe he is now my cousin, and I am ready to advance his cause in any way I can." I gave no written instructions for my affidavit.

The Solicitor-General: You said in your affidavit: " On the 18th of May last I went to No. 2, Wellesley-viilas, Croydon. I believe that my visit was unexpected." You now say that he expected to see you?—It Wits perfectly unexpected as to day. He expected me on an indefinite day. I have no doubt that he knew I was coming on some day, because I said to the Dowager Lady Tiehborne that I would try and identify him; but he did not know the day when I was coming.

The Solicitor-General: If he knew that he was to see yon, and got himself up on your information, what does it signify whether you were coming on Monday or Tuesday?—I think the affidavit is plain, and speaks for itself. He had an intimation that I was coming, but did not know the day. Mr. Norris is my solicitor, and I was constantly seeing him. We had a good deal of conversation about the claimant. Ho told me some extraordinary facts; but, as far as I remember, I went down as much to satisfv Mr. Norris as Ladv Tichborne, for he had his doubts.

The Solicitor-General: Did you know that he was engaged in April in borrowing money for the claimant?—I may have known, and may not have known.

The Solicitor-General: You have told us that he had doubts, and that you went down to satisfy them. Don't you know that he was engaged in raising money? —I may have known it. I have not got the slightest recollection when ho began to raise money. I don't know now. I don't know when Mr. Noma first began to raise money for the plaintiff.

The Solicitor-General: Did you not ascertain, in your conversation with Mr. Norris, that he was about raising money for him?—I don't know. I have no recollection. I had letters from Mr. Norris on business frequently, and he may have mentioned the Tichborne case. I was living at Mr. Norris's bouse; I think before I went down to Croydon. It was the habit of my wife and myself to have a few weeks with him in the spring. The Tichborne claim was a constant subject of conversation at this time, and also throughout Catholic society. The question of raising money mav have been discussed. It was discussed.

The Solicitor-General: Did you hear anything about the Tichborne Joint-Stock Company?—No. I did not.

The Solicitor-General: Did you hear the question of raising the money to prosecute the claim bv means of a ioint-stock comnanv?—I rather think I did.

The Solicitor-General: Did you not hear of the Tichborne Joint-Stock Company, with a canital of £100.000. in shares of £10 each?—I don't remember that at all.

The Solicitor-General: Were yon applied to to assist in this matter?—Yes, I offered to assist it by money.

The Solicitor-General: Are you yourself a holder of any debenture?—I don't know what security I hold. I am quite content to lend my money. I believe have some security.

The Solicitor-General: Did you yourself ever apply to take these shares at £65 for every £100?—No, I made no sort of application. Mr. Norris acted for me in the matter as my attorney. I don't think I have ever seen the security. I have met Mr. Guildford Onslow on the subject of this claim. (A paper, apparently the prospectus of a joint-stock company, was handed to the witness.) He was asked if he had ever seen it?—Witness: I think I have seen this paper. I have seen copies of it.

The Solicitor-General: Have you the smallest doubt that you have seen a copy of it?—It is extremely probable that I have seen it. I can't say whether I have seen one or a great many. I don't know. Mv imnres.%ion is that I have seen one or two.

The Solicitor-General: Do you know that he was obliged to give a bill of £1,000 for £150?—Witness: I have talked little to the claimant about money matters, and I have not heard of that from anybody.

The Solicitor-General: Did you know from claimant, about the 5th of September, that he was in great difficulties about money, and that he was obliged to give a bill of til,000 for £150?—No. There are two Messrs. Norris. One of them is not an attorney; he was secretary to the Norwich Union Insurance Company, but is doing nothing now.

The Solicitor-General: Who is Mr. Tucker?—I believe that he has been an M.P., and assignee in Alfred Tichborne's bankruptcy.

The Solicitor-General: What place was honoured by the representation of Mr. Tucker?—I don't know. I never saw him before. He was going to see Tichborne with me. I fancy he came to see whether I identified him. I don't know whether he is a man with money. I know nothing about him. I have only met him once since, in the street. He told me that he was interested in the case. He told me that he was assignee to Alfred's bankruptcy.

The Solicitor-General: What interest had he in the case—was it a money interest? Witness: Of course it was a money interest. As assignee to Alfred's bankruptcy, it would establish some moneyed interest. I did not learn whether he was advancing money. I was sponsor to claimant's child. I never knew that Tucker was suggested as a sponsor, and that the objection was that he was a Protestant. I never heard that he had been asked. In our church we only require one godfather.

The Solicitor-General: Is he a respectable man?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to the question, and it was not pressed.

Witness: My prejudice against claimant had not been modified by the staying with Mr. Norris. I denounced him as an impostor to Mr. Tucker, and said I believed ho was the greatest impostor of modern times, except Tom Provis, who tried to get Mr. Smith's property. I said I was glad to see him, because I did not wish him to suppose that I thought he was an impostor, but to draw him on. I was not surprised that he said he had been in Bath, because he might have been told that; but I was surprised when he said that the hotel was the hotel next the market place. When he told me about the death's-head pipes, that did upset me. It was a very startling answer.

The Solicitor-General: Smoking was too much for you? (Laughter). Well, if we had smoked cavendish it might have been. (Laughter).

But that was a startling answer?—It was.

The Solicitor-General: Did you know that he had fallen in with at Sydney, had gone to Panama, and had come to England with a man of the name of Bogle?—I had heard that.

The Solicitor-General: Did you know that Bogle was Sir E. Doughty's confidential servant?—I knew him perfectly well.

The Solicitor-General: Did you know that whatever peculiarities there might have been about Roger Tichborne might have been known to him?—They might have been.

The Solicitor-General: Would the existence of the death's-head pipes have been known to Bogle?—Possibly.

The Solicitor-General: Would you oblige me. by going so far as " probably?"— Probably, perhaps.

The Solicitor-General: Will you say "probably, without perhaps?"—" Pro bably," then. (Laughter.) Bogle had been with claimant nearly a year at the time I saw him. He might, if he knew, have told the claimant about the pipes.

The Solicitor-General: Supposing he did, would it be surprising that the claimant should know of the pipes?—No, it would not. I don't think Bogle was with him at Bath when he had the pipes, or that he could know that he was staying at the White Lion. I then said that I wou d recognize him as my cousin. This was the process of what you call my conversion. It was about an hour and three-quarters after I went to Croydon that I changed my mind. I became convinced gradually, and at the end was thoroughly satisfied. I had only one period of intercourse with the real Roger Tichborne, and that was at Bath. Mr. Roger Tiehborne's butler was a man of the name of Allen. I had not seen Tichborne Eiuce that time till I went to see him at Croydon. He is a year older than me. I should not have known him by the eye. I could not swear to him or any man after that period of time. The voice was like Alfred's, but I could not recollect whether it was like Roger's.

The Solicitor-General: In your affidavit you said, After I had been with him some little time I said that I thought I discovered a likeness to the Roger Ticliborne whom I had known before, and that there was something in his voice which to the best of rny recollection also reminded me of him." You say now that you cannot recollect whether the voice was like Roger's.—I think I did say that I could not swear to the voices; but to the best of my recollection they were similar. As far as I recollect, the two voices were much the same. When I knew Roger at Bath he spoke with a slight foreign accent. I was with many foreign boys, and it did not appear to me so strong as I was accustomed to hear. I never had any letters from him.

The Solicitor-General: What sort of a man was he?—He was a badly dressed man.

The Solicitor-General: What sort of a man was he inside his clothes? (Laughter.) What were his manners?

His manners were rather brusque. He had not much manners. He was not clever, but rather dull. I could not say whether he was a man of high honour, or firm and affectionate. He was decidedly shy. Among the society that I saw him in his shyness went off somewhat. The society he saw at Bath was chiefly my mother's and his uncle's. I can't say whether he was sensitive.

The Solicitor-General: In your affidavit you say, " He was very peculiar in his manner, very sliy, and I should say sensitive to a degree." Did you desire Mr. Holmes to write that clown?—I swore to the affidavit. I read it over, to the best of my recollection. I will not swear that I read that paragraph, but I have no doubt I did.

The Solicitor-General: Did you find the man the same in demeanour and education as you recollectedyour cousin?—I ratherthink I did. His manner was somewhat the same— similar to that of Roger Tichbonie. He was awkward, and possessed a certain shyness which wore off as I talked to him. The accent was different. The French accent had disappeared. The style of his talk was like that of Roger Tichborne. Rogor Tichborne was a decidedly ill-educated man. The change was such as one would expect in a man who had been living in total isolation from polite society.

The Solicitor-General (producing an envelope and letter): You spell your name Biddulph?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General: To spell it Biddup was wrong?—Yes, but I have hundreds of letters with my name spelt that way.

What! from gentlemen?—I can't say that.

From your cousins? (Laughter.)—Perhaps not. The claimant knew I was his cousin. He talked about our mutual relations. He seemed glad to see me.

The Solicitor-General: Should you be surprised to find that lie described you as a " nice kind of a gentleman," and that he would desire to be better acquainted with you? (Laughter.)—I would feel much honoured. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: I would not interfere with that sensation tor the world. Does he speak inaccurately?—I heard him making false grammar often.

The Solicitor-General: Does he say " howsomdever "? (Laughter.)—Yes, he does.

Have you ever heard him say " his abscess busted "? (Laughter.)—No.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to say he would pass muster among English gentlemen as an English gentleman?—I could point out several English gentlemen who would not pass muster as English gentlemen any better than he does. They are men apparently no better than farmers, and I would place Tichborne among that class. I have heard of persons called English gentlemen who were so illiterate in conversation that you would take them to be nothing better than pig-jobbers.

The Solicitor-General: Was the Roger Tichborne of 1819 a man whose mauners were no better than a farmer, or more than equal to a pig-jobber?—la those days he did not dress in the particular style that he afterwards adopted.

The Solicitor-General: I am not speaking about his dress but his manners.—I never said that the present claimant had no better manners than a pig-jobber.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to say that the manners of the Tichborne whom you knew in 1848 were no better than those of a farmer or pig-jobber?—He harl not then developed. His dress was very slovenly.

The Solicitor-General: Do yon mean to say that the manners of the claimant are as good as the manners of the Tichborne whom yon knew in 1848?—Quite as good. I have seen him entertain gentlemen, and, with the exception of some inaccuracies of language, I have seen him preside at his tabie with as much repose as any gentleman. He was a man whom you could not distinguish from the vast number of gentlemen except in soma inaccuracies of language.

The Solicitor-General: Such as " howsomdever (Laughter.)

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: On the 18th May the plaintiff did not expeet to recover. I do not know whether the plaintiff wag deprived of money of his own. At one time I lent him £300. That was after the interview. I advanced it because I believed bona fide he was my cousin. I believo there is some security. It is simply a bond. I was actuated by no desire to get 50 or 60 per cent. If I had been doing it as an investment I should have advanced a groat deal more money. I lent it to assist him. When I was with Roger Tichborne at Bath it was before he entered the army. I do not think Bogle was there at that time.

Mr. Giffard: Having now become acquainted with the plaintiff, and taking into account that he has passed twelve or thirteen years among the lowest class of the community, is there anything in his manner inconsistent with his being Roger Tichborne whom yon knew in 1818 or 1849?

Witness: He is exactly what such a man would develop into. At first he only knew French as a parrot knows it; he only learnt English as a parrot does, and again as a parrot he fell into the language of the men with whom he so long associated in Australia.

By a Juryman: The death's head pipes were clay pipes, which would not be thrown away when smoked, but kept to colonr. By smoking one part got blacker than the rest, and a peculiar effect was produced. They were pipes that were likely to be preserved, and perhaps laid on the table.

The Chief-Justice: You have mentioned a sum of £300 ae having been paid over at one time?

Witness: I have lent that sum towards the expenses of the law sait, and I am not at all ashamed of it. That is all I have paid. I have, however, become guarantee for £300 more.

Miss Anna Mary Braine, examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am living at Brompton just now, but 1 reside in Devonshire. I was living as governess to Kate Doughty in 1819. Miss Doughty was in her 17th year. 1 lived there, I think, till October or November, 1850. I was there for the greater part of a year. During that time Mr. R. C. Tichborne visited the house. He was there on his birthday. There was a ball given to the servants and tenantry. I saw him a great part of every day during that period, and I have a perfect recollection of his features, manners, and appearance. He was very ill-educated indeed. I am a good French scholar; but he did not speak French in my presence. He spoke English, with a foreign accent, and ungrammatically. He was about middle size, and he had thick eyebrows, which moved in a peculiar way. I remember his voice. I also noticed that his knuckles were dimpled like those of the plump hands of a lady. I was struck with that because I have never seen it in any other man. I heard of the loss of the Bella. 1 first heard that he was alive in 1866; but I am not sure about the date. A long time after I wrote to a friend on the subject. In the year 1868 I received a letter signed hy Tichborne; and in consequence of that letter I went to Wellesley-villas, at Croydon. The claimant was not at home. I was shown into a room, and waited till his return. When he entered, the first thing that struck me was his enoimous size. I said, "Don't speak till I look at you." He sat down, and then I looked at him and said, "The eyes and forehead are Roger Tieliborne's, but the nose is not." He said that he had a fall from his horse in Australia. His voice was the same, but fuller. I have seen him frequently since, and have lived for weeks in his house. I have noticed his conversation and manners, and my opinion is that he is the same Roger Tichborne whom I knew in 1850. I am as certain about his identity as I am of my own.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I think his visit in 1818 lasted from a week to ten days, but I am not quite certain of the time. That was the only period that I ever saw him before lie left the country. I did not go there before the end of December, 1849, but I can swear I was there at the beginning of 1850. I was there as governess to Miss Kate Doughty, and am not ashamed of it. I was teaching her French. It is not for me to say that I speak it fluently. It is rather a trying position to be examined on one's qualifications. (Laughter.) The claimant was fond of shooting, and was out most of the day. I do not know that I ever saw him asleep. I had an opportunity of seeing him daily. Miss Doughty was a girl of 17. Roger frequently came into our sitting-room to talk. I remember on one occasion sitting next to him at dinner, and I particularly noticed his hands. Iustead of the bones appearing on the knuckles as they do on the hands of thin men, there were dimples.

The Solicitor-General: Had he any knuckles?—Yes.

Were the dimples inside or out?—When you have done bantering me I will answer you. Where there would have been projections in others there were dimples—that is what I mean. I believe he has the dimples now, and I have ascertained the cause. He was generally very shy and awkward, and I should not have attempted to talk with him upon any grave subject whatever. Ho had a decided French accent, and played the French horn. I don't play such an. instrument myself, and therefore cannot say whether he played it skilfully. I don't remember whether he sang. He left Tichborne after his birthday, the 5th of January, 1850. The friend to whom I wrote at Alresford was Mr. Anderson, the manager of the bank. I have described him as my correspondent because he answered my letter. In consequence of a second letter, in 1868, I went to Croydon, and there saw Sir Roger Tichborne. He had offered to visit me in Devonshire, but I begged him not to do so, as I was coming to London. I don't know a Mr. Brain, of Alresford. Sir Roger did not expect me on the day I called. I was a fortnight late in my visit. I have not said that I knew him directly I saw him; but I think you may take it that it was so. There seemed to be two men. The old Roger Tichborne appeared as if floating about over the large man who came in. (Laughter.) When I began to think it over I came to the conclusion that he was the man. I saw him subsequently. I don't know whether he was more or less polite. I think that gentlemen aro always polite to ladies. (Laughter.) I am not surprised at his saying in his affidavit, " I mnst act politely to her until I get her affidavit." (Laughter.) I was not astonished at anything that came from him. I visited at his house for some time before be left with the Australian commission. For two years I did not see him at all. I have seen hira very frequently sinee November. I had heard that be had forgotten French. Once at table I spoke a few words, when he evinced his knowledge of what I said, thns proving that he had not entirely forgotton the language. I have no distinct recollection of Sir Roger's handwriting before he left England in 1853. The Dowager showed mo numerous letters after his retnrn. I cannot say whether I have seen letters or copies of letters of the early Roger in the claimant's possession. The letters shown me by the Dowager may have been copies for aught I knew. I don't remember investigating the letters at all, though I may have looked at them. I don't think she read any of them to me. I had no doubt about the claimant being Sir Roger, or I should not have called npon her. She produced some photographs and letters, but I do not remember that I took any of them out of their envelopes. I cannot positively say that I never saw his writing, but I mean that I did not examine it or read the letters which were shown to me by the Dowager. Altogether I may have spent several months in the plaintiff's house since I saw him at Croydon. I have not slept in his house, but I stayed with some friends when be was ill, and I frequently saw him for hours at a timo. I have written letters for him at his request. He has never copied them that I know of. I wrote them when he was ill in bed, and unable to write himself.

The Solicitor-General: Have you assisted him in writing letters?—May I ask what you mean by assisting?

The Solicitor-General: If as a governess you don't understand " assist, " I can't help you.

The Chief Justice: Answer the question.

Witness: I may have told him how to spell a word, as others would. We have laughed at him because of his bad spelling, and he has turned round to his friends and said, " How do you spell so and so?" I never remember tolling him how to spell French words. The memorandum book (produced) was made yesterday from my affidavit. I could not exactly remember dates. I have never taught him French. He was mush too idle for that or anything else. I have heard and read so much of his case that I cannot remember whether I ever read to him copies of any letters or documents in his possession. His personal appearance and voice are things that I recollect. I have no remembrance of having " materially " assisted him. Mr. Baigent was frequently at the house. He is an antiquarian, I believe, and one of the host friends Sir Roger has. I don't understand exactly what he means when he calls himself an antiquarian. I know that he hunts a good deal in old churches. (Laughter.) My memory is imperfect for dates; for features it is variable. Some faces I remember well, and others I do not. When I first sqw tlio claimant his appearance certainly startled me. I did not say he resembled Sir Roger, but that ho was Sir Roger himself. The eyebrows are the same, the mouth is fuller, and the nose has recovered the fall he had. I mean that the nose has recovered its original shape after the fall he had. It is undoubtedly the same nose that Roger had. The eyebrows and the upper part of the face are undeniably the same. I was much struck by the claimant's face. I always took a peculiar interest in the family. He was the heir to a large property, and that has its weight, you know, in the world; and he is cousin to ray first pupil, to whom I was particularly attached. I heard he was likely to be her husband, and that gave me an interest. Other circumstances lod me to take great interest in Sir Roger. He had a falling lock of'hair on his forehead, and I remember he had a peculiar mode of jerking his head to throw it back. When I first saw him in Croydon ho did not jerk his head in that way, but I watched for it. There is the same lock of hair, but it does not now fall. Later in the day I saw him jerk his hair in the old peculiar manner; and I said to him, " I have been looking for that." He answered, " I had no bandoline in those days; now I use my wife's to keep my hair back." It may be that I told him I recognised him by his eyebrows, his hair, and the lock falling over his forehead. If it is in my affidavit, I did say so. The lock did not fall over his forehead to the same extent, certainly, when I first saw him. I should not be so silly as to tell him that I recognised him by that alone. I cannot say whether I said so on the first or the second day. I think it was on the second day I saw the lock fall, and then I told him of the old trick he had of jerking it back.

The Solicitor-General: How is his accent now?

Witness: Will you be kind enough to explain what you mean by "accent;" my words are so twisted that it is difficult to answer.

The Solicitor-General (warmly): No, I will not explain what I mean by accent, for you as a governess ought to know.

Witness: His accent is very slight. He talks much more like an Englishman now. He speaks, I think, as if he had been in the colonies for fourteen years. Occasionally I hear a French idiom. I have mado no memoranda, and am not sure that I can give you an instance of any. I can recollect mistakes in pronunciation certainly. Those are to be traced to his French education, but to the multitude they would appear to ba had English. He says " raountaynious" from the French " montague" and " familviar." instead of " familiar" in English.

The Solicitor-General: In the case of " worrit." What do you think?—I should consider that peculiarly colonial. (Much laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: What do you think of " anchoring" for " hankering?"— That it also is traceable to his French education. It may be nothing but a little confusion of the French word " ancre."

Cross-examination continued: The same remarks will apply to the word " Respectiable," and all words in which the vowels are multiplied His orthcranhv is generally admitted to be bad. I can't exactly say where the scar was on the forehead. It was a slight scar, and I believe it was between the eyebrows.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Miss Doughty, the young lady who was under my care, is now Mrs. Itadcliffe. I have only one brother in England. He lives at Caterham, and was a candidate for the representation of Plymouth. My brother, who is abroad, was in Parliament.

Mr. James Winter Scott, examined by Mr. Giffard: I am a justice of the peace and a deputy-lieutenant for the criunty of Southampton. I knew Sir Roger Tickborne before he left England. I first saw him, after his return, at my house, liotherfield Park. He came when I was at luncheon, and I asked the servant to show him into the library. When I went to him he was standing against the window, and I did not recognise him, but said, " I am glad to see you back, Mr, Tichbcrue; come in and have some luncheon." He accepted the invitation, and shook hands with Mrs. Scott and the ladies, and then I placed him opposite the light. After the ladies had retired, I told him I thought he was Sir Roger, but that I must ask him some questions which might seem to bo impertinent. He said he would answer all questions to the best of his ability. I asked him why he was so foolish as to stay away in the manner he had done. He said, " Well, you know my papa and mama were always quarrelling, my home was uncomfortable, and when I went abroad I said I should stay away from seven to fourteen years; but I intended never to come back again while my father was alive." I said, " That is all very well, but how is it you never communicated with your bankers when you had put by a thousand a year for yourself?" He said, " No, it was not a thousand; only eigfyt hundred pounds, and I thought it would accumulate. I did not want the money." In reply to other questions, he said that if he chose to go away from home he had a right to; that he went abroad, telling his friends that he might be away seven or fourteen years; at all events, he never intended to return during his father's lifetime. He left the money in the bank, ho said, that it might accumulate, and be of use to him some day. He had not written about it because he earneda comfortable living when in Australia, and did not wish to let his family know where he was. I told him that might be some good reason certainly. Then I asked him the reason why he had not called to see his cousins at Brookwood. He fired up in a moment, and said, " Do you think I would call upon people who denounced me as an impostor before I arrived in England?" I said, " Perhaps not." I then said, " How was it that Gosford did not recognise you?" He replied, " Gosford not recognise me! Why, we were talking about Tichborne all the way up, but I suppose he did not wish to refund the money he had by the will." Next I put a question to him, the answer to which I did not myself know. I said, " Do you remember staying with a person at the Tumble-down Dick at Farnborough?" ' He answered, " No, I never heard the name of the Tumble-down Dick; but I remember spending several days with a person at a pothouse near Sandhurst. ' This turned out to be the very place that I meant—the Tumble down Dick, and I thought his answer was a very remarkable one; indeed, no impostor could have answered such a question if he had not been there or heard something about it. My next question had reference to what he did with his horses when ho left the Carabineers. He said that ho sold two of them, and two he sent to Gosford, with instructions that they should be kept in the park at Tichborne till he returned. This struck me as an answer that an impostor could not have got up. I then said, " Now I have had an interview with you, I have no objection to give you my affidavit; but you must remember one thing—by your foolish conduct you have brought a young lady of noble family into an awkward predicament. I think you are bound to do all that you can for your brother's boy." He replied, " I agree with you. It has always been my intention to make an ample provision for him; but you must remember that as soon as my mother knew what was going on, she sent a messenger to Wardour Castle to tell them that she had not heard of my death, and that if I returned at any time, Alfred would only be in the position of a second son." This answer also I considered was remarkable, and I wrote to a friend, telling him I thought I should be able to make good terms for the boy. I have seen him several times since then, and have no more doubt about his being Sir Roger Tichborne than I have of my own existence.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: Sir Koger might have been at my house five or six times when he was young. Whenever bir James Tichborne visited Sir Edward Doughty he brought his boys, Roger and Alfred, to spend a day with me. I and his father used to meet in the hunting-field. Roger was at my house just before he joined the Carabineers, but I dont think at any time afterwards prior to his leaving the country. My acquaintance with him in fact ceased in 1849, till he came home in 1867. I might have had a strong conviction about his being the man before I saw him, in consequence of what was said to me by persons in whom I had implicit confidence. Mr. Hopkins was one who said he believed him to be the long-lost heir. I invited the claimant to visit me, and pressed him to fix the day for his coming. There are a good many people in Hampshire, I believe, who do not believe in him. and there are a great many, including his tenants, who do. There are many who still believe him to be an impostor. My wife takes a different view from me. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor General: Women will have their rights in matters of opinion, you know. (Laughter.)

Witness: I have taken a strong interest in the matter, and a strong part since I saw him. I have written to the papers about him. I was chairman at a meeting at the Swan at Alresford, where Martin, Mr. Lushington, Mr. Bulpit, Mr. Onslow, and other county gentlemen were present. This was after the return of the Chilian commission, and some of the evidence was read. Claimant was called to account for not attending the examination of the commission, and two letters were put in, apparently by Mr. Holmes, which I did not understand. The claimant denied they were written by him, and I thought he was quite right when he did so. I cannot state what explanation was given by him about his not appearing in Chili. I took no notes of the meeting. It was two years ago. We were present, I believe, as a body of county gentlemen, to examine tbe letters and to determine whether we would continue our support. I think Sir Roger left bis party in Chili, and came back. It was said be did not choose to go by sea, as they had arranged to do. The claimant was requested to leave the meeting, and then a resolution was passed to the effect that as the letters were not satisfactory the gentlemen would withdraw their support. Sir Roger then said, "I am sorry to hear it, Mr. Scott, and I am very much obliged to you for the trouble you have taken." He answered like a gentleman. Next day I began to think we had been too precipitate, and I wrote to an old friend abont it. I did not withdraw my support as the others had done. There is a likeness, certainly, between the claimant and other members of bis family. The peculiar twitching of the eye was noticeable in bis mother and Lis brother Alfred. His eyebrows are sornowhat like those of Mr. Alfred Seymour, not in court. I cannot say whether the twitching of the eye is more marked when he first sees a person or when an affidavit is being made. (Laughter.) There is a twitching more or less at all times. Sir Roger used to speak in broken English, with a French accent. Tho claimant does not speak English thoroughly. He was a taciturn sort of lad, and never mixed much with other boys. He was not a boy that I shonld take much tronble about. I used to give him a good luncheon, and there was an end of it. I can't say whether he was musical. I believe he was fond of the key bugle. (Laughter.) I should not say that his manners were good. I consider he is quite a gentleman now, especially in the society of ladies. I can't say whether he is a captivating man. (Laughter.) He certainly was not a captivating boy.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: I remember his running after the hounds once and losing his hat, hut I have not ashed him any questions about it. Mr. Hopkins was the solicitor for the Tichborne family for upwards of forty years. He was my Parliamentary agent, and was a thoroughly respectable and int lligent man. I suppose my wife saw the original man, but I really can't remember. She has only seen the claimant once since he came home. Women are generally partisans, and go together in these things. Laughter.) I am a partisan decidedly, as I have no douht about the man. I believed he was an impostor at iirst, because I thought it was absolutely impossible that any man would not communicate with his bankers. (Laughter.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine asked where the court would sit on Monday.

The Chief-Justice said that as the Courts of Queen's Bench and Common Pleas would be occupied on Monday and the ensuing days, the case would he heard at the Westminster Sessions-house, hut the accommodation was so small that even those interested in the case would not he able to obtain admittance. He was sorry nothing better could he done, hut the other courts were occupied. He would take care, however, that in such an important case the public press should have every convenience for representing the public, so that every information might be given.

The Solicitor-General suggested either the old Lords' Justices Court, or the Painted Chamber in the Westminster Palace. He knew from painful experience during the Wyndham trial, that the Sessions House afforded most wretched accommodation.

The Chief-Justice said the Chairman of the Sessions had given permission for anynecessary alteration to he made, provided the solicitors in the cause -would undertake to restore the court to its original condition. His lordship stated that application should be made in the proper quarter, with a view to obtain the Painted Chamber or some other fit place. In the meantime the court would sit at the Sessions House.

The court then adjourned till Monday.

NINTH DAY.—MONDAY, MAY 22.

EIGHTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

As arranged on Friday, the court sat here to-day, and on the Chief-Justice taking his seat,

The Solicitor-General, addressing his lordship, said he thought that the Queen's Gallery, in the Palace of Westminster, which had seats ranged against the wall rising one above the other, would be more convenient than that court. He understood it would hold between 400 and 500 people. It was under the care of the Lord Chamberlain, to whom application, he believed, would have to be made.

The Chief-Justice observed that it would be important to ascertain whether the place would afford sufficient light and ventilation. With regard to the Sessions House, he thought they were all extremely indebted to the chairman of the Middlesex Justices for placing the building at their disposal, and allowing alterations to be made to secure as far as possible the comfort of the parties engaged in the case. His lordship then intimated that he would make some inquiry with respect to the Queen's Gallery.

George Allen, examined by Mr. James, said: I live at Bath. I was butler to Mr. Robert Ticbborne. For 16 years I was in the service. He left my family a legacy. I knew Mr. Roger Tichborne at Bath, but I remember him better at Ticlibome Park. He was not at Bath more than four or five times. i saw him when he bade farewell to his friends, when Mr. Gosforth came with him. That was three months before he left England. I saw him at the Royal Hotel, Bath, on Oct. 10,1867. In consequence of a note from Mr. Rouse I had an interview with the claimant. I have no doubt whatever as to his identity. I recognized him from the eyes and forehead. The other features seemed rather shorter than when he went away. I had a conversation with him which lasted probably three or four hours. After that conversation the conclusion at which I arrived was'that I had no doubt at all about it. That is my opinion now.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I had heard from Mr. Rouse before seeing the claimant. I cannot mention the date. I should think it was probably about three months before their coming. I do not know whether I have the letter. I don't recollect burning it, but I don't know where it is. The last time I saw it was about a twelvemonth ago. That was the first I heard from Mr. Rouse. I had not heard from any friend of the claimant. I had a conversation with Mr. Whitgvave some months before I had a letter from Mr. Rouse. His father married a Miss Talbot, who is a niece of Lady Doughty. He is an independent gentleman. That was as far back as March or April. It might be earlier. I saw Mr. Whitgrave, because I had to visit biin quarterly about the gas accounts, and generally we spoke about the Tichborne business. Mr. Rouse came with the claimant, and was there the whole time. The interview lasted about four or five hours, and Rouse was there the whole time. $$Wordl$$ of them even named Mr. Whitgrave. He said, " I think you will be a very $$Unclear$$ witness." I said, " I beg you will not give my name to anyone." I never talked about the old times, or what I remembered about him. During the five hours the claimant said he had been at Tichborne, and had seen a picture of a favourite old $$Unclear$$er of his uncle's. It was named Cock Robin. I thought he answered very $$Unclear$$ckly. He remembered two water-colour likenesses of Mr. and Mrs. Roger Tich$$Unclear$$e at my house. He recognized the likenesses at once. They were both very good-locking. This was the " genuine article." He said his uncle looked very natural, and that he recognized him by his long legs, and that his aunt looked still $$Unclear$$ natural, that she was at her fancy work, according to her habit. I thought the claimant strikingly like in person as to the eyes and forehead of Roger Tichborne; that weighed in my mind more than anything else. There was a lock of hair that used to fall over his forehead when he threw his head back. The lock did not fall over in the same way at Bath. He wore his hair differently then. The colour seems to be the same. I did not see anything particular about the eyebrows. I did not observe anything particular about the eyes. I never observed any great twitching about the eyes. I may have observed it once or twice. The nose of the claimant $$Unclear$$eared somewhat shorter, but I formed my opinion from the upper part of the face. The lower part of the face is the same as that of the Sir Roger of former days, except that it is much broader. The mouth is the same, but I go by the eyes aud the upper part. Sir Roger was very Frenchified before he went away, but he has now lost his French accent. Sir Roger's aunt used to talk French to him. He used to talk French $$Unclear$$tly. The sound of his voice was not the same; it was of a rougher nature; and he had not that gentlemanly hearing he had at Bath. I was with the family about 15 years. He did not very often come to stay whilst I was there. He always came to breakfast and dinner when he was in Bath. He never remained there more than a week at a time whilst I was there. I saw him maDy times at Tichborne Park. The family visited Tichborne about twice a year. I should think ou those occasions I saw him there at least a dozen times. We usually visited Tichborne; generally in the summer, and I should say we saw him more frequently in the summer than in the winter. I left the Tichborne service at the death of Mrs. Tichborne, 14 years ago. Robert Tichborne died about 18 years ago. Generally speaking we went to Tichborne twice a year. Roger's visits were generally more lengthy than ours, and we generally eft hirn there. lie used to spend his time in smoking and riding. He used to play the French horn, or kick up a row at least. He was very fond of running down stairs with the servants. He had the manners of a gentleman before he went away. He was a. polite kind of man, and he had altered in that respect when I saw him after his retarn. The pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Robert Tichborne at my house were water colours. They were drawn by an amateur, a self-taught man in Hampshire.

Re-examined by Serjeant Ballantine: Mr. Whitby, I believe, made application to $$Unclear$$ to give evidence. He said he would write to Mr. Radeliffe, who is the gentleman who married Miss Doughty. I told him not to do so, because I thought it would be an improper thing to do, as it would look as if I wanted to push myself forward, and I objected to that. Sir Roger's hair was thicker when he went away than it is now; but as far as the colour goes I do not see any difference. I only occasionally say the twitching of his eyes. I was with him three hours before I noticed it. When I said his nose was shorter, I did not take into account the difference in the size of his face. He was a great smoker when he was young, but i do not recollect any paricular discular pipe he used to smoke. When he went down amongst the servants he gene $$Unclear$$ally went to the l utler to get some ale, and on most occasions he would remain there talking for some time. When he came to my house since his return I Simply asked $$Unclear$$ whether he saw anything in the room which he knew, and after looking round he recognized the portraits of his uncle and aunt, booking at the face of the claimant as a whole. I have nut the slightest hesitation in saying that he is the Sir Roger Tichborne I knew in former days.

The Chief-Justice: You say you noticed the upper part of his face more closely than the lower part. Why did you do so? Because I was at once struck with the like $$Unclear$$ my lord. The eyes and forehead are the same.

The Chief-Justice: Do you wish, Brother Ballantine, to have the portraits produced $$Unclear$$

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I think they had better be produced.

The witness, who said they were still in his house at Bath, was than directed $$Unclear$$ $$Unclear$$ the likenesses brought to Loudon.

Thomas Carter, examined by Mr. Serjeant Baliantine: I was private servant in the army to Captain Morton in the Carabineers. I took service in my present name. My proper name was M'Cartliy. I changed it after I left officers' service. In 1856, when I returned from the Crimea I changed my name. I remember first seeing Mr. Tiebborne at Cahir in 1856. I was then in Captain Morton's service. I was a short time in the service of Captain Pinkney, and afterwards in that of Mr. Tichborne in 1852 and 1853, till he left the regiment. I am not in his service now. I left him on the 10th of last December. From what I saw then and since, I have not the slightest doubt that the claimant is Sir Koger Tichborne. 1 heard that the bells were ringing for his return. I wrote a letter to Sir Koger at Mr. Hopkins's. When I had satisfied myself he was the person he represented himself to be, I was ready to enter his service. When I saw hiin he told me things which I did not want to hear in the presence of other people, and I wished to stop him.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: I first saw the claimant February 25, 1867. I wrote to him early in February. I received a reply from Sir Roger. I have not Been it since I wrote it. My application in February 14, 1867, was to enter his service, unreservedly. I received a letter in reply on the 16th. I offered to enter his service before I had seen him, and I saw him on the 25th. There was another letter three days afterwards, between the 16th and the 25th. I saw him on the 25th. If I had found he was not the man I intended to denounce hiin, and seek other employment in London. I was then in the service of Mr. Lester, who lived near Louth. I was his coachman. I had been there in or about two months, not more. I had not given notice to leave my master. He had given me notice to quit. That was about the beginning of February. He kicked up a row with me for having a glass of beer with the butler. I might have had five or six. (Laughter.) I stopped then. I spoke to the solicitor about a character, and he said Mr. Lester would not give me a character. That was early in February, and before I wrote the letter of the 14th. I knew that I was about to quit Mr. Lester's service without a character from him.

Cross-examination continued: I waited three days for a letter from Sir Roger. I wrote on the 14th of February to the claimant, at Mr. Hopkins's, at Alresford. When I wrote on the 14th I did not know that I was going to leave my place.

Mr. Hawkins: You have already sworn that before you wrote that letter of the 14th you were under notice to leave your place, and without a character.—When I received the second letter I had notice to leave. It was given to mo between the two letters. When I said that notice was given before the 11th of February it was a mistake. I have thought of it since.

Mr. Hawkins: Before you wrote to the claimant you say you knew that you were about to leave?

Witness: Yes, that was true; but afterwards the squire's solicitor told me that if I spoke to the squire he would let me stop on. If I had gone back and spoke to the squire when the row was, he would have allowed me to stay in his service. I made an application to Mr. Lester's solicitor for a character, but he would not give me one. I got my notice to leave on the Friday, and I saw the solicitor very soon after. I had my notice to leave immediately, but I was taken ill and remained there two or three days. I had orders to leave at once. I wrote to my old master for a character, but I do not know whether it was before or after I had left Mr. Lester's. I first saw the claimant on the 25th of February, but I cannot say whether it was on the 25th or 26th I engaged with him. I had no character. He thought that as I had lost my situation he was bound to take me—though he was in duty bound to take me as servant after I had proved that he was a Tichborne. I told him I had lost my last situation through him. That was not true. I never told him that my late master had refused to give me a character. I remained in his service during the whole of the year 1867. I remained with him until he left Croydon and went to live at Alresford, when I left him. I went to live with a gentleman in Mornington-crescent. I think his name is Mr. Hingston. He has a brother who is a friend of the claimant. I lived with him, and he said he would take me on trial without a character from Sir Roger. I might have been there four montlis, and I left because he did not give me the things to do the work with. After that I went away the next morning. He did not give me a character, and I did not trouble him for one. Next I went to drive Dr. Covey. He lived in Austin-street, Grosvenor place. I stopped there about four months. Then I went back to live with the claimant, and I lived there nine or ten months, and left him December 10th of last year, and also on December 10, 1869. In 1869 I left because he and I fell out about a glass of drink. After that I went nowhere for four or five months. I lived then on a few pounds I had saved in Tichborne's servioe. Afterwards I went back till the next 10th of December. I have been in no service since. I have lived at Chelsea. I have supported myself on my club and the little money I had again saved. The claimant is living at Harley Lodge, Brompton. I did not see him from that time until I saw him at Mr. Spofforth's last week. I was engaged to valet him, and do anything I could. I did more for him than I ever did for anybody. I cleaned knives and forks and boots and shoes. I have travelled with him a little.

Mr. Hawkins: And for him a good deal.—Yes.

Mr. Hawkins then read the following letters written by the claimant to the witness:

Essex Lodge, Thornton-heath, Croydon, Feb. 16, 1867.

To Thomas Carter—I received your note yesterday, and glad to hear you are well, I cannot encourage you to leave your present employment, my affairs being in an unsettled state at present. I do not know what I intend to keep in regard to horses, but shall be glad to see you at any time you call.—Yours, &c.,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE, Bart.

Essex Lodge, Thornton-heath, Croydon, Feb. 10, 1867.

To Thomas Carter—I should very much like you to ask your master to give you leave to come to Brighton, as I wish to see you particular on business. I pay your expenses if you will come.—Yours, &c.,

R. G. D. TICHBORNE, Bart.

Cross-examination continued: My wife was in his service afterwards. She remained, perhaps, a couple of months. As to wages I was to have £1 a week and my board. It was about 1850 that I first saw young Koger Tichborne. I was then in the service of Captain Morton. Then I went to Captain Pinkney, and then to Mr. Tichborne. Captain Morton was a great friend of Mr. Tichborne. Captain Polhill was an intimate friend of his. Captain Polhill used to play him great pranks. All the officers were partial to him, though he was shy and kept himself away from them. I have the strongest recollection of the young man when he went away. I should recognise any picture of him in a moment. This photograph is a good likeness of him. I can't see tho forehead. I can see a likeness. If meant for him it is not a good likeness. I said it was a good likeness without a thought. I had not looked at it.

The Chief-Justice: Now, be careful. We all saw you look at it. Now, did you look at it?—Yes, I did, but without a thought. It is like the eyes, but not the forehead. I thought there was something the matter with his mouth at Croydon, when I went to see him there. The eyes are like him. I should say it does remind me of him. It is very like him. Anyone who has a recollection of him must recognise the whole face, about the eyes in particular. Taking the whole face it is very like him. I should say the colour of the eyes were between a light blue and a hazel. The twitching of the eyes and the voice I noticed particularly.

Another photograph was handed to the witness, and he said he could see no likeness in it.

The Witness continued, after some hesitation: This is a better likeness than the other.

The Chief-Justice: You said you could see no likeness in it.—Well, I am not a judge of pictures.

Mr. Hawkins: Now, which is the best likeness?

The Witness asked to be allowed to compare the two daguerreotypes, and was supported by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine in his application, Mr. Hawkins objecting.

The Cliief-Justice said, after the evidence the witness had already given, he should be left to the cross-examining counsel.

Cross-examination continued: The picture I now hold is like the Roger Tichborne I knew. It is not very like him. There is a likeness, but if it is meant for him it is a bad portrait. I mean to say that it is a better likeness than the first I saw.

Other photographs were handed to the witness, and he was examined at some length as to whether or not they were like the Roger Tichborne of 1853. He said that he recognised one (of the claimant) by the twitch.

Mr. Hawkins: Do you see the twitch now?—Well, no, for the likeness cannot do it, but if the portrait were olive it would.

The witness imitated the twitch which he said Sir Roger had.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you practice that?—No; I don't know that I ever did it before.

Mr. Hawkins: You do it uncommonly well, then.

Cross-examination continued: The photograph has the eye and the hair of former days, but the nose is flatter. The nose is not like the Roger Tichborne of 1853. Sir Roger's nose is larger than the nose of 1853. There was an enlargement in the nose of 1853. It was not a sore, but a natural enlargement of the bone of the nose.

The framed daguerreotype was handed up, and witness said, in reply to the judge, that in it he did see an enlargement on the bridge of the nose. On the first daguerreotype being handed to him he said he did not see it there. The nose is the same length as the nose of 1853, except the place I have mentioned. I can't say that I should recognise the claimant by the lower part of the face. The mouth of the claimant is not like the mouth of the Roger Tichborne of 1853. I can't say I remember the chin. (Another photograph was handed up, respecting which the witness said it was more like the nose of the Roger Tichborne of 1853, and the figure was as unlike the claimant's as two persons could be.)

On the re-assembling of the Court, after luncheon,

The Foreman of the Jury, on behalf of his colleagues, asked if his lordship intended to sit on Wednesday.* (Laughter.)

Mr. Hawkins: I believe, my lord, that Wednesday is a fast day. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice: Do I understand it to be the unanimous wish of the jury that we should adjourn over Wednesday?

The Foreman: Yes, my lord, we have other engagements to attend to. (Renewed laughter.)

The Chief-Justice: If we adjourn over Wednesday, I should propose that we substitute for it Saturday, and sit on that day.

The Solicitor-General: We are in your lordship's hands, but we have made arrangements for Saturday.

The Chief-Justice: Well, I shall not attend the Isthmian games myself, but I do not desire to prevent anyone else.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I make no application, my lord, but concur in that made by the jury. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: I concur in it too, and am quite willing that we should not eit on Wednesday.

The Chief-Justice: I do not object to an adjournment, and for this reason, that at present we cannot see the end of this cause; therefore I think that every consideration should be given as far as is practicable to the comfort and consideration of the jury. If it is the wish of the jury that we should not sit on Wednesday, we will not do so. I see no reason why they should not have one day for their recreation. But it will not be recreation for me, because I have these volumes of notes which I must wade through whenever I have a moment of leisure.

Mr. Hawkins: If we adjourn over Wednesday I hope your lordship will not allow it to be made a precedent for next year (Laughter.)

It was then understood that the court would not sit on Wednesday.

The witness Carter then re-entered the witness-box and asked that his cross-examination should be adjourned. He was ill and had scarcely tasted food for four days.

The Chief-Justice: Did you state you were not fit to he examined this morning before you entered the box?—Witness: I did, my lord.

Are you fit now to go on with the cross-examination?—I am not, my lord; and I should like any person to go with me to a medical man to ascertain whether I am fit or not.

The Chief-Justice: After that statement it -would be a cruelty in me to compel the witness to undergo any further examination. Am I to allow the jury subsequently to be told that the examination is not of any weight, owing to the witness having been ill?

The Solicitor-General: We shall have to examine this witness at great length; perhaps, with one exception, at greater length than any other witness, and, therefore, I do not wish that the examination be persisted in.

The Chief Justice: It is not the question whether the witness likes to go on or not, but it is whether he is fit to go on?

The Foreman of the Jury: We are of opinion the witness is not fit, my lord.

The witness was ordered to attend again on Thursday.

Sergeant Walter Moody, examined by Mr. Giffard: I am 45 years of age. I enlisted in the Carabineers in January, 1844, and remained in the regiment till January, 1851. I remember Mr. Tichborne joining the regiment at the Portobello Barracks, Dublin. When at Cahir, in 1850, he became an officer of the troop to which I belonged, and I had daily opportunities of knowing him and speaking to him. I have a good recollection of his appearance, and remember his voice. I saw him, I believe, on the morning that I left the regiment in December, 1851. I did not see him again till January, 1868. I then saw him at the Three Cups in Colchester. He recognised me first, and called me by my name. Two or three seconds elapsed before I knew him. 1 had not the slightest doubt then that he was Mr. Tichborne. His features, and his large full rolling eyes, were unmistakeable. His walk I recognised immediately. I asked him several questions about troop affairs, amongst others what happened at Cahir on Christmas Day when we were quartered there. The troop was paraded for church, and two men named James Leighton and Thomas Fenton were confined for absenting themselves. Mr. Tichborne mentioned their names at once, and perfectly remembered the circumstance. He told me the number of my own horse and that of other horses in the troop. He spoke of a black mare belonging to a man named Hines, and told me the number of that animal. He told me the names of the non-commissioned officers, particularly the sergeant and sergeant-major of the troop. The sergeant's name was Bullimore. I have not the slightest doubt about the claimant being Sir Roger Tichborne. I can stand in the box, in front of the ladies and gentlemen here, and say without the slightest doubt that the claimant is Sir Roger.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: Nothing would alter my conviction now. I intend to tell the truth, and nothing more. I knew the day before that I was going to see him. Colonel Swinfen, of the 5th Dragoon Guards, sent for me. I was told that Sir Roger would be at Colchester at a certain hour. A man named Carroll, the Colonel's servant, accompanied me. Carroll might know a good deal about the regiment and the black mare. He might know also the number of my horse. He did not say a word to me about his having previously seen Tichborne until some time afterwards. Carter, Mr. Tichborne's servant, might also know the number of my horse and the black mare, and he might have told Mr. Tichborne; but I don't expect that he did. If I had been in Carter's place I should not have said that I knew anything about it, speaking as a man. I recognised Mr. Tichborne by his large eyes, and the manner in which he rolled them when speaking. There was the twitching of the eyes also. I could not be deceived about that. The Roger Tichborne of 1851 always had this twitching. I cannot swear that his hair has not altered. My own has altered somewhat in twenty years. I think it has altered but very little during that time. It is now rather sandy or brown, or a little lightish. It is full about the sides, I should say,- and it is a medium head of hair. The hair of Roger Tichborne in 1851 was darker, to the best of my recollection; but I cannot exactly say, as I never saw him with his cap or helmet off. I don't think the helmet would alter the colour of the hair. His eyes were large, but I cannot remember the colour. You don't suppose a man would look into a gentleman's eyes for the purpose of ascertaining that. (Laughter.) The nose of 1851 and 1867, I should say, is the same. I would not swear to anything below that. The eyebrows are the same. He was a bad walker. His knees knocked together as he went along, and there is that peculiarity now. He had a foreign accent, either French or German, and didn't give the word of command as an English gentleman would. We never laughed at him.

The Solicitor-General: I suppose not. You all looked as grave as judges, no doubt. We never laughed when the command was given. I was conversing with him at the Three Cups, Colchester, for about three-quarters of an hour. Mr. Baigent and other gentlemen were in the room. X don't know what Mr. Baigent is. Carroll was there too. I made my affidavit that day. I believe it was drawn up by Mr. Baigent. It was read over to me after it was written. Carroll, William Robinson, and James Marks made affidavits at the same time.

The Solicitor-General: Were the affidavits made strong?—I made mine to my own belief.

Was any one sent out to get the plaintiff a pill? (Laughter.)—I don't know. He looked in a healthy condition. After the interview I marched the men back to barracks.

The Solicitor-General: You did not take them on what is called a pontoon?—No; I don't know what you mean. I know what is meant when you speak of pantaloons. (Laughter.) I am a Presbyterian. There were plenty of men in the regiment who were Roman Catholics, and they were taken to chapel by Mr. Tichborne and Mr. Qninn, who were of that persuasion.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: I did not go to the Three Cups with the intention of recognising the claimant. If he bad not taken my fancy, I should have said so. I was reading a newspaper when he came in. He immediately tapped me on the shoulder, called me by my name, and said I was only an assistant farrier when he last saw me. That was correct. I very soon recognised bis voice and features. No stranger could have told me so much about my troop as he did. I have not the slightest doubt, from under his nose upwards and his walk, that he is the man.

Sergeant Thomas Dunn: I am in the 4th Dragoon Guards. I was for merly in the 6th Dragoon Guards in 1847. I stayed in that regiment until 1852 I knew a gentleman named Ticliborne who joined that regiment. I frequently saw him in Dublin when he was on duty as orderly officer. I have a good recollection of his features and appearance. The last time 1 saw him was in 1851. I next saw feln in 1867. I knew him after a few moments' observation of his features. I have in doubt that he is the same man who was serving in the Carabineer regiment to which I was formerly attached.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: I saw him in Cahir Barracks. It may have been in 1851. He appeared to be good friends with his brother officers. I recognised him by his forehead, and by his gait. Ho was inclined to be " knock-knee " with his left leg. There was a twitching about his eyes. I did not make my affidavit on the day I saw him. It was in the month of January or February following. I was on a visit from Aldorshot, and I saw Sergeant-Major Marks and Sergeant Cairns. I was asked if I should know him again. I said I thought I should. I saw him at Alresford. Marks, Cairns, and another man went with me It was the first time I had seen the claimant since his return. We had no eonvei sation as to whether there was a change in the appearance of the claimant. Cairns spoke to me three or four months before about going to see him. He did not say that he had had conversation with him. He asked me if I remembered the manthat they called the Frenchman in the regiment. We went to a tavern. Two or three gentlemen came in, and one of them was very like the man I was supposed. to know. He walked across the room, and I immediately thought it was Tich borne of the Carabineers. He was much larger than when in the regiment. As te his bulk, there was a complete alteration. There was the same gait, and a ten dency to being " knock-kneed," especially in the left leg. I did not notice the nose I do not remember any enlargement on the nose. I do not remember his chin. His hair was dark brown. I have seen the claimant's hair. It is darker now tharit was then. I do not remember particularly how it was worn. In Oetoher, 1867. I thought the hair was like that of Roger Tichborne, but darker, and not worn in tho same manner. In the army he wore it shorter in the rear than in front. It was not particularly short. It was not inclined to curl. It was that lanky hair with no tendency to curl. It might have curled with curling-tongs. I saw him four days ago. I did not observe his hair then. I did not see him in court, saw him with his hat on. I saw his hair. I cannot say whether it was lank hair, not inclined to curl. I did not observe him in court. I have not, the least recollection of his voice. My recognition of him was by the forehead, the twitch of the eye, and the gait.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: I merely heard him speak when giving the word of command, or saying something when passing through the stables as an orderly officer. After I had seen him some time, I observed that he did not know English

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

* The Derby Day.

TENTH DAY. —TUESDAY, MAY 23.

NTNTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House. Westminster.

John Lessware, examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantino: I reside at Liverpool I am a custom-house officer. I formerly enlisted in the 6th Dragoons, and became trumpet-major in the regiment, and continued so until 1851. Colonel Jackso$$Unclear$$ gave me the office of receiving and delivering letters. I remember Mr. Tichborne joining the regiment at Portobello, Dublin, and subsequently becoming lieutenant in the same regiment. I delivered letters to him—the first on the 28th October. 1849, and the last on the 4th April, 1851. The plaintiff then left for Clonmell, and I never saw him after until April, 1868. A short time before that I got a letter from Mr. Baigent, and in consequence I came to the Victoria Hotel, Liverpool, and saw Mr. Tichborne there. When I went into the room he called nse by came Here was no one else in the loom when I first went in. I did not recognise him at first. After a short conversation I came to the conclusion that he was the officer I gave the letters to when in the regiment. I remembered him by his heavy eyebrows, the nervous affection of his eye when spoken to, and the tone of his voice. I was with him about four hours. I have not the slightest doubt he is the man. I asked him several questions about his dress, and the officers that he was associated with when at Cahir. He answered them all satisfactorily. He mentioned the circumstance of gold lace being worn by the band. He mentioned other matters. He knew my wife; she has seen him. My quarters overlooked the officers' mess, and I saw them daily. I saw him on the 3rd of April, 1868. I have seen him once in this court. Looking at him now I have not the slightest doubt as to his identity. I took letters for him. If any letters were not pro-paid, I had to pay for them. With the letters I received for him there were several French pamphlets, on which I paid one halfpenny, sometimes one penny. I asked him the cause of the excess charge, and he told me; and, on referring to my book, I found that his recollection was correct. No one but myself had had possession of the book. In fact, I did not remember that I had it in my possession till after I had seen him.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: I have the book with me. It was produced at the time I took it with me to the Victoria Hotel. The plaintiff barely looked at it.

Mr. Hawkins: Don't say barely looked at it. Did lie look at it?—Well, he looked at it. Mr. Baigent was present at tlie time. I have not the letter Mr. Baigent wrote me. I think I have lost it. I have not seen it for twelve months. I never showed it to Mr. Spoffoitli or to the plaintiff.

Mr. Hawkins: Whom did you show it to?—To no one, sir. I had never seen Mr. Baigent before. I cannot tell where the letter was addressed from. I wrote an answer to it, and addressed it to Winchester. I never knew Mr. Baigent before that time. My impression was that he was acting as a solicitor. The purport of the letter was to ask whether I knew Mr. Tichborne, of the Carabineers. Before I met the plaintiff in 1868 I had not had a letter from Mr. M'Cann nor from Carter. I had not seen plaintiff for 17 years until the time I saw him at Liverpool. Before 1851 I had had/requent conversations witli the plaintiff while in the regiment. I knew the tone of his voice. He had a peculiar accent. He spoke as it were broken English, but I could understand him perfectly. When I saw him in 1868 he spoke better English, and there was no French accent remaining.

Mr. Hawkins: Has the tone of tlie voice of the Roger Tichhorne of 1851 and of 1868 altered?—One of the marks of my knowledge of him was the tone of his voice, and, therefore, it could not be much altered. The 2nd of April, 1868, was the day I first met him. A letter I had received from Mr. Baigent fixed the date of the meeting at the Victoria Hotel, Liverpool, to see the plaintiff. I had not spoken to any of my old comrades before I went to the hotel. I think I first saw the plaintiff in a room before Mr. Baigent came, but will not swear positively. As an appointment had been made I was not surrpised at the plaintiff addressing me by name. I should not have known the plaintiff at first if I had not been aware I was about to meet him. He was considerably altered in personal appearance, but the features were essentially the same. I should never have stopped him in the street or recognised him at the outset if 1 had met him. His hair seemed something like it was in 1851. He wore his hair in something like the same style he does now.

Mr. Hawkins: You can see no alteration?—There might possibly be, but I cannot recollect.

Mr. Hawkins: To the best of your belief, is the hair of the plaintiff the same now as in 1851? What is your belief?—That it would be the same—in the same style. The colour might be a shade lighter then than now, but worn in the same manner, and presents the same appearance. As far as the nose is concerned I do not see any difference. The mouth is evidently the same. I recollect the face of Mr. Roger Tichborne, of the Carabineers. It was much thinner than it is now, but not to say very thin. When Baigent came in I asked Tichborne whether he recollected in 1849 the officers of the regiment whilst it was at Portobello. I asked him different things with reference to the regiment. He mentioned the names of several of the officers of the regiment, of all in fact. I spoke to him about the barrack-master. I think he asked me if I recollected the marriage of the barrack-master whilst he was at Cahir. I said " Yes." I cannot say who spoke certain words, but we talked of the matter generally, and I was satisfied that he knew. I asked him how it ended. He said when the carriage came back the men took the horses out and drew the carriage into the barrack-yard. That was a circumstance well known in our regiment, and the names of the officers were well known. I do not recollect what else we talked about. There is a peculiarity in most men, and it was by his peculiarity that I recognised him. I recognised him by the voice, twitching of the eye, and his general appearance. I saw him again the next day. Mr. Baigent and some other friends were with him. I do not know who they were, but they were clergymen I think. I do not know Mr. Rouse.

Ann Lessware, examined by Mr. Giffard: I was married in the year 1841 to the last witness, and lived with him whilst he was in the regiment. I recollect Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne. I have frequently seen him in conversation with my husband, and I have a good recollection ef his face and features. After my husband left the regiment I did not see Mr. Tichborne for many years. I saw him in 1868 at the Victoria Hotel, Liverpool. As I was going up to the drawing-room I saw three gentlemen coming down the passage, and I thought one was the Mr. Tichborne I had known in the Carabineers. I did not speak to him then. I was shown into a room, and waited until he came back again. I should think I waited about half-an hour or three-quarters. When Mr. Tichborne came in he was alone. I had a good opportunity of looking at him and examining his features. I recognised him by his speech, by his eyes, and by his voice. I noticed the twitching. I had some conversation with him, and I am now perfectly certain that he is Mr. Tichborne.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I have not the slightest doubt about his identity. I had no serious doubt from the first when I met him in the passage. I knew his features. There is a strong resemblance, but he is very much stouter. If I had met him in the street I should have known him by his features. I had an opportunity of knowing Mr. Ticliborne in 1851. I used to give him letters. I used to see him with other officers, but I only talked to him when I gave him letters whilst my husband was out. That did not often happen, but I have often been present when he has talked to my husband. In 1851 he talked broken English, lie talked with a French accent, and it appeared to me very strong. It was so marked that I should have imagined he was a Frenchman. When I met the claimant I noticed that he had lost a great deal of the foreign accent, but it had not quite gone. There was something to remind you. As far as the accent was concerned he had become more like an Englishman. The alteration was considerable. The tone of his voice was just the same. I did not notice any alteration beyond that change which many years would have occasioned. As far as my memory goes, I should say his voice was just the same. I have not a very lively recollection of the voice of the gentleman I knew in 1851. The features were the same. The eyes are much the same. I recollect the twitching of the eyebrows. The twitching was very marked in the Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne of 1851 whilst he was talking, and I recognise the claimant by that twitching. I did not notice it at once, but whilst I was talking to him his eyes twitched very much. His hair is much the same colour, but it is not quite so straight now as it used to be, and it is fuller now than when I first saw him. It is also more curly. The hair of Roger Tichborne was thin, lank, smooth hair.

The Solicitor-General (pointing to plaintfff): Now, is that thin, lank, smooth hair? No.

Then there is a marked change.—Yes.

What do you say to his nose?—It is just the same looking nose. I see no difference in it.

What do you say to his mouth? It is just the same. It strikes me as just the same, not fuller. I went to the Victoria Hotel the second day. My husband had previously seen him, and when he came back he said I must go. When I got to the hotel I asked for Mr. Tichborne, and was shown up stairs to the drawing-room. Mr. Baigent was there. We waited together about half an hour. I was at the hotel about three hours. Serjeant Hamlett was there. My husband came in afterwards. The gentlemen talked principally. I did not talk much. I listened.

The Solicitor-General: Ah, that would be natural.

Witness: I made an affidavit that day. It was drawn by Mr. Baigent, and I signed it. My husband's affidavit was also drawn, and he signed at the same time.

Thomas Muston, examined by Serjeant Ballantine: I am coachman to Mr. Bowyer, of New Brighton, in Cheshire. I remember entering the service of Mr. Edward Doughty in 1842, at Upton. I lived with him seven years. I knew young Mr. Tichborne after he left Stonyhurst. He was then about 16 or 17 years of age. He was at his uncle's. I had to look after his horse. I remember coming to town when Mr. Tichborne was stopping at 39, Upper Grosvenor-street. 1 subsequently went with him to Knowle and afterwards to Tichborne Park. I was his groom and valet. I remember his joining the regiment. I went to Dublin and took three horses, two dogs, and the luggage. We went to buy a dog before we went to Dublin. He stayed at an hotel in Dublin. I remember nothing specially that occurred there. We stopped at Dublin a week, and then he joined at Portobello. I afterwards went with him to Cahir. I left liim in January, 1851, and have not seen him since until latety. I heard of the supposed loss of the Bella and of Mr. Tichborne. I can't say when I first heard of it. I had a conversation with a Mr. Bardon some four or five years ago about Mr. Tichborne, and I gave my recollections of his personal appearance. I first saw the plaintiff about a month ago. I had a letter from Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton, and went to see the plaintiff at the Waterloo Hotel, in Jermynstreet. I had heard that he was an impostor, and expected to find him so. I did not re'cognise him at first. He correctly told me where he bought the horses and the dogs. I asked him if he recollected the names, and he stated " Spring" and " Piecrust." He asked me if I recollected purchasing a dog with him in London, and I said yes. He then described the yard in Mount-street, Grosvenor-square, and the dog, which was a half-bred deerhound. No one else was present when the purchase was concluded except the vendor. I remember his first going to the regiment, and I asked him what coat he wore. He said a surtout coat. That was correct. I also remembered that there was a large hole under the arm, but he did not appear to recollect that. Several other circumstances were alluded to. I asked him if he recollected coming into the yard after hunting in Hampshire with his pocket handkerchief tied round his head instead of his hat, and he said yes. After conversing witli him for some time at the first interview I arrived at the conclusion that he was a Tichborne; but I could not say he was Roger Tichborne. I now believe that he is Sir Roger. I remembered the forehead and the twitching of the eye. I could not recognise the hair; it used to be straight. My deliberate belief, on my oath, is that he is Sir Roger.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: I saw Sir Roger in consequence of a letter I received from the solicitors. I have not the letter here, but it can be produced. I was applied to three weeks ago by Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton. The Rev. Father Guy first found me out about a month ago. He sent a man to my house to ask me to see him. I saw the Rev. Father Guy, and he asked me if I thought I could recognise Mr. Tichborne. I said I might; but as I had heard he altered so I might not. No questions were asked then. He did not tell me on whose behalf he had applied to me. I afterwards had a letter from Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton. I saw a photograph of Mr. Tichborne about two years before.

The photographs, C and D, were handed up, and then witness said that they were much like, but not the same as he had seen two years ago. Another photograph taken from the daguerreotype of Mr. Tichlrorne in 1853 was handed to witness, and recognised as the one he had seen. It was marked " G."

The Chief-Justice said that this photograph appeared to be like the daguerreotype in the frame, except that the features were larger and clearer in G.

Cross-examination continued: i recognise the photograph as a likeness of the Roger Tichborne I knew in 1853. It is an excellent likeness of my former master. I was shown a photograph of the claimant also two years ago, and at that time I did not recognise any likeness. The photographs were shown to me by Mr. Well, of Liverpool. I told Mr. Well that the last photograph was not that of Roger Charles Tichborne.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you not state on being shown that photograph, " That is not like Roger Charles Tichborne, and I am prepared on my oath to say he is not Roger Charles Tichborne?"—No; I did not say anything of the kind. Mr. Wellss clerk asked me if I could recognise the photograph, and I said I could not. It did not remind me of Mr. Tichborne in the least, and I said so.

Did you not say that there was no likeness at all in any part?—I said it was not like Roger Charles Tiehborne, but I did not say in any part. I had not seen the claimant at that time. The portrait I have seen I should say is a very good likeness of the claimant, but I did not see in it any resemblance of Roger Charles Tiehborne. I was in the service of Mr. Barnes two years ago, and I am in his service now, so that there would be, I should think, no difficulty in finding me. I have been in service sixteen years. I did not learn why the Rev. Mr. Guy called upon me. I told Mr. Guy that I might recognise the claimant. I do not think Mr. Guy asked me whether I had seen the photographs. I believe I told him that an application had been made to me two years before; but I cannot say that I mentioned the photographs. The conversation only lasted about five minute?. I was not aBked to describe my former master, nor was I told that probably I should be wanted to go to London. When I came to London in April last I knew that I was coming to see the claimant. I did not tell Mr. Well that I was coming to London. I had not seen him for two years.

Mr. Hawkins read the following letter from Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton, to the witness, requesting kirn to come to London:—

The Rev. Father Guy has been kind enough to say he has seen you with reference to your former service with Roger Charles Tichborne, of the Carabineers. You have told the Rev. Father Guy that you think you would be able to recognise your old mastei. We therefore send you a post-office order for £2, 10s., and request that you will come to town next Thursday.

Cross-examination continued: There might be a little more conversation, but I cannot say what it was about. I will not swear that Mr. Guy did not ask me anything about the horses, or how long I was in Mr. Tichborne's service. I do not believe there was a word said about it, but I will not swear about it. I will swear nothing was said about the dogs when I first saw the claimant. I was taken to him by Mr. Spofforth. He called me Tom, I think. That was the only name I ever passed by in the regiment. When I first saw him I did not recognize him, but I saw traces of a resemblance. I noticed the twitches of the eye and the forehead. I was there about two hours, and I went away in doubt. The first twitch I noticed was after I had been there about half an hour.

Mr. Hawkins: Up to the time the twitch came was there anything whatever except the brow which reminded you of one of the Tichborne's.—No, Sir. There was the walk. I saw him walk across the room. He went out during the time I was there. He remained away about three or four minutes, and then came back and resumed the conversation. I noticed the walk when he came back. He had " a little drop " on one side. I noticed his ears. He always had a peculiar ear; they were rather thick and stood a little out.

Do you mean to say that you ever mentioned the ears to any human beiug until this morning?—No, Sir.

Have you ever even stated that you knew him by his ears until this morning?—No, sir. The only things I told him by were the forehead, the drop in the walk, and the ears; everything else was unlike the Roger Tichborne of former years. The interview lasted two hours.

And you went away not satisfied that lie was the man?—Yes.

Then two hours' observation did not satisfy you?—No. When I knew the plaintiff twenty years ago he wrinkled his forehead.

Then there was nothing but the wrinkle for you to identify the forehead by?—No, sir.

I dare gay you have seen many other foreheads with similar wrinkles?—No doubt. I expected to find an impostor, and was not quite satisfied when I went away that he was Sir Roger. I wanted to foel quite certain before I spoke positively. It was by gas-light that the first interview took place. The next morning I saw him again, but did not recognise him except by the same leading characteristics which I have before described. I felt certain that it was him after the morning's interview. I cannot recollect how often young Tichborne " twitched." I was forcibly struck in the conversation by his recollection of buying " Spring." A great many other things struck me. I was not aware at the time that other persons had been making affidavits about " Spring " and " Piecrust." I believe that nobody else knew about the purchase of "Spring." If any one else did, it would make a difference. The most remarkable, part of the conversation was when I said " Do you remember buying ' Spring'?" He said, " Yes, I think somewhere about Grosvenor-street." I said, " Was it in Mountstreet? " and he replied, "Yes, and I went through a little shop into a back yard." The plaintiff was with me when the dog was bought. He was a big red dog, a cross between a deer-hound and a grey-hound. I did not tell ilr. Weld that I had bought the dog, nor that I had given 15s. for it. I think I said £ f. 10s. was paid for the dog. " Pie Crust " was a present from Lord Gifford. I have nothing further to say about the dogp. Plaintiff spoke to me about the horses. He asked me if I recollected where he had bought his first charger. I said, Yes, I suppose you recollect also; he said, " Yes, at Cox's, in Stamford-street." He asked me if that was correct. I said yes. I asked him if he recollected what he wore when he first went to the barracks at Portebello. He said, '' No." Then I asked him what coat he wore, and he said a " surtout." That was a matter which was known to the regiment, because it had a hole under the arm. We talked about no other circumstances which occurred at the time of his joining the regiment. I did not place any particular reliance on the fact of his mentioning the sourtout coat, but I thought it extraordinary. I knew both Carter and M'Cann. I saw Carter last Thursday, but I had not previously seen him for 20 years. I heard that both M 'Cann and Carter had been his servants. I think I have told all the matters which were the subject of conversation between myself and the claimant. I was groom and valet to him, and was in constant attendance upon him.

He-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is two years since I had the conversation referred to, and from that time to the present I have taken no interest in the matter. I gave Mr. Weld an entire description of Mr. Tichborne, and told him about the peculiarity of the eyebrows, the forehead, and the wrinkles. Mr. Weld did not mention anything to me about the claimant. The claimant gave me a description of the dog Spring, and the yard in which it was purchased, and no one knew anything of its existence except Mr. Tichborne, myself, and the seller.

William Gould, examined by Mr. Giffard; I have lived in Poole all my life. I was acquainted with the late Sir E. Doughty. I remember the late Sir Roger. I knew him well, and have spent many days with him. I was a fisherman, and he being fond of boating and fishing used to go about with me. I read of his loss at sea in the papers, I should think about ten or eleven years ago. On the 14th of October, 1867, I had a conversation with Mr. Henry Seymour. In consequence of what that gentleman told me I went to the train which comes in in the afternoon. When the train arrived I saw Mr. Tichborne get out of the train with Mr. Rouse. I spoke to him first. I said, " How do you do, Tichborne," and he said, " How do you do, Gould, after the years I have been gone." I would swear to him anywhere. It is in his appearance and his voice. Any one who had known Sir Edward Doughty would know the claimant. I recognised him myself. Nobody pointed him out. I did not stay with him long then. I next saw him on the same evening, and I had a conversation with him. After I left him I went home and cut out four models of boats. I afterwards went to the London Tavern Hotel and saw the claimant, Mr. Rouse, and Mr. Holmes. I asked him if he could remember the model of the boat we bought between us. I put the four models upon the table. He picked out the right one and showed it to Mr. Rouse. Mr. Rouse said, " Show it to Mr. Holmea." There was nothing particular about the boat, except that it was a foreign-built boat.

The witness produced the four models, all of which were of different shapes, from which the claimant had picked out the boat in question.

Examination continued: I talked to him about other things. He was right in everything I asked him. I asked him what he gave for his boat, and he said £5. That was right. A remark was made about a truss of hay the next day, the 15th of October, 1867. He asked me if I could remember when he brought a truss of hay, and put it in the boat's bottom and set fire to it to dry the boat. I said, yes, that was correct. He mentioned this to me. I never told him a word about it.

Mr. Giffard Have you any doubt about his being Sir Roger?—Well, if he is not Sir Roger, he is the very devil himself. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: I don't dispute that; which is he? (Laughter.)—Sir Roger Tichborne. (Laughter.)

Cross-examined by the Solicitor General: I am a fisherman. I supplied Upton with fish for a great many years. I did not know Sir Roger was coming down until one hour before he came. The rate-collector told me he was coming. I went and inquired at the London Tavern Hotel, and was told that lie was coming down by the half-past three train. I went over to Ham Station (near Poole), and saw Sir Roger get out. I recognised him directly. Mr. Rouse was witli him, but I did not know him as Mr. Rouse. I had had no communication with the plaintiff. I had had some letters from Mr. Holmes, but I " broke" them up—laughter—directly after I got them. I never received £1. 19s. from either Mr. Holmes or the Dowager Lady Tichborne for a pair of boots which Roger Charles Tichborne had had. The Dowager Lady Tichborne sent £2 and a dozen of wine whilst I was ill. She sent me a letter to look out for the wine. I " broke" it up. I sent her a couple or two of ducks and widgeons, and she wrote and thanked me for them. I wrote to Mr. Holmes to ask him if he could mind the boat which the plaintiff and myself had bought. I know Mr. Peake. I never got a letter from him. I have put down on paper what he wanted me to do (pulling out a sheet of manuscript note paper).

The Solicitor-General: Let me look at that paper.—No, I shan't. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: Let me have the paper.

Mr. Giffard: I object to that.

The Chief-Justice: Let me look at it.

The paper was handed to his lordship, who, after examining it, said to the learned eounsel, " It seems to me that this is a paper which you should both see."

Mr. Giffard: Copies of the letters from the witness to Mr. Holmes, and from the latter to the witness, are in existence, and can be produced.

Cross-examination resumed: I only know Mr. Peakeby sight. I have never written to him in my life. Yes, I did; I wrote him one or else two letters.

Do you mean to say that you did not write two letters to Mr. Peake in September, 1867—one about the model of the boat?—I wrote him two letters. I believed Mr. Peake was for Sir Roger, not against him.

Do you mean to say when you wrote the first letter to Mr. Peake that you did not know that he was against the claimant?—I will not swear it. I don't remember whether he was for or against him.

The Solicitor-General: Here is your letter:—

Mr. Peake:

Sir,—I have took the liberty to write to you to tell you, if you do see the infant's mother (Lady Tichborne). I wish you to tell her if I could do her any good I should be glad to come to see her for I does know Sir Roger Tichborne very well, for I have been about with him, the time for he wor staying at Upton House, and what I have heard about him I don't think it is Sir Roger. Sir, if you do sec Lady Doughty you ask her if she don't know William Gould who served Upton Hall with fish for 12 years or more. If the lady wish to see me I should be glad to see her. If you do come to Poole again I will go and see Mr. Moore who went to South America with Sir Roger. I think I shall be as good a witness as the infant will have. Sir, have I done wrong by writing to Mr. Holmes about Sir Roger, telling him what I knew about Sir Roger.

To the witness: Now, do you mean to swear that when you wrote that letter on the 19th Sept., 1867, that you had the smallest doubt that the man you were writing to was against the present claimant?—I did not know Sir Roger then.

The Solicitor-General: That is not the question, and you know it.

His Lordship (to the witness); Answer the question.

The Solicitor-General repeated the question.—I cannot exactly say.

What did you mean by asking if you had done wrong in writing to Mr. Holmes? I don't know.

What did you mean by saying that you would be as good a witness as the infant would have?—I did not know Sir Roger, then, sir.

His Lordship (to the Solicitor-General): You have not had an opportunity of looking at that paper yet (the paper in witness's handwriting), and it is right at this stage that you should have.

[The paper was handed to the Solicitor-General.]

Mr. Hawkins: When did you make this note?

Witness: A day or two after I saw Tichborne. It might be about a month.

When did you first see Mr. Peake?—I think in June or July, 1867. I wrote the letter after I had seen him. I made the memorandum a long time ago. I should say more than a year, but I would not swear that it is as much as a year. Mr. Harker is a solicitor at Poole. I do not think he is engaged in this case.

Mr. Hawkins: This is what you have put down in the memorandum—" Mr. Peake wishes me to send all the letters I can get. No one shall look at them but himself, and then return them to me."

Witness: That was before I had seen Sir Roger in 1867. I do not know when I put it down. I merely put it down for a memorandum. I put it down on paper, so that I should know the gentleman's name. I put Holmes's name down because I should know it if anybody should ask me. I put Mr. Rouse's name down also. I mentioned about, the model of the boat to Mr. Peake. I do not think I mentioned it to anybody else; but I would not swear. I had talked about it to several people in Poole.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you write this letter?—

Mr. Peake:

Sir,—There was a gentleman come to my house on Monday about Sir Roger Tichborne, and he was asking me if I knew Sir Roger. I told him I did, and he wanted me to show him the model of the boat I bought for Sir Roger before he left England but I would not show him tile model of the boat .KSr, ihave you see she infants mother.,LadsyTuichborne I should like for to see her. Please, sir, will you send me the infant's mother's address.

W. GOULD.

Witness: Yes; I did.

What did you want the address of the infant's mother for, in September, 1867?— I do not know. If I could have seen the lady I would have told her what I knew about Sir Roger. I should like to have seen her. I did not get her address. I wrote two or three letters to Mr. Peake.

Which were the letters Mr. Peake meant which he was to show to nobody?—I do not know. I suppose he meant the letters from the opposite party.

On the re-assembling of the court after luncheon the Chief-Justice stated that he had had a communication with the Lord Great Chamberlain, and there seemed to be a difficulty about the Queen's Gallery being secured for the purposes of the trial.

The cross-examination of the witness was resumed by the Solicitor-General: I had conversation with a good many people at Poole upon the subject. I put down this about Mr. Harker because he came to my house. Rouse came in a carriage alongside my house. I don't know on which side Mr. Harker was. When I saw Mr. Peake, and sent him the letters, I did not know whether they came from the claimant's side. The manuscripts relating to Mr. Peake and Mr. Harker were not all written at the same time. I had the conversation with Mr. Harker before 1 saw Sir Roger. I had the conversation with Mr. Harker before October 14, 1867. I said I should go up and pay my fishmonger, and at the same time go and see Sir Roger. That I told Mr, Harker, but I did not know then on which side he was. I did not know which side Mr. Harker was on until I had my affidavit book.

The Solicitor-General: What was your affidavit book?—It was a book with all the affidavits in it. It was a printed book. Mr. Holmes sent it. It was not sent to me until after I had sworn my affidavit. My own affidavit was in it. I read it myself, and showed it to Mr. Crabb, at Upton House.

The Solicitor-General: Now look at this paper, and tell me whether you mean to swear on your oath that this paper was written at different times?—One part might have been written on one night and one another.

The Solicitor-General pressed the question.—Well, sir, I can't say. It might all have been written at one time. When Mr. Tichborne came to Poole in October, 1867, Mr. House was with him. I knew the claimant three minutes after he got out of the railway carriage—before he got to the omnibus. Anybody who knew Sir E. Doughty would know him. I recognised him by his features.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to say that all at once you recognised him as the slight man you had known in 1853?—Well, sir, my wife, who was a very thin woman, and very much thinner than he was, is now very much stouter. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: But you have had the singular happiness of living with your wife all that time, and you have seen her every day. You had not seen this person since 1853.—I was certainly astonished at seeing him so stout. When I parted with him in 1853 he was not so " terrible" thin. The same face is on him, but it has got stouter. His nose is more one side than when he went away. He did not have so much hair upon his face as he has now. I do not think he very often combed his head out. His hair was all of a fuzz, like mine. (Laughter.) He had no whiskers, only a little over his top lip. He talked better English than he does now. I recognise him by his features, his eyes, and his walk. His left leg is rather bowed in. I talked about the models of the boat to a good many people. I should think I had the first models made between three and four years ago. I have not got them now. I broke them up, and made a fire with them. I think I had them made when Mr. Peake came to Poole. I think I told Mr. Peake I had them; but I would not swear I had them made because I heard there was going to be a trial. I made the models myself. I don't know that I told anybody about them, but I won't swear that I did not. My wife and nephew saw ma make the boats. I hadn't models of boats cut out for my nephews to play with. I thought if I could put down models of the boats it would be good evidence. I never told anybody when I made them. I said I had got some models of the boats, and when Tiehborne's case comes on I shall show them. I showed them to the claimant, and he picked out one in presence of Mr. Rouse. I kept them till I had lighted my fire with them three weeks or s month ago. They were lying locked away. I came home from fishing one night, and there was no other wood to light the fire with, so I burnt them. They were no use.

The Chief Justice: I thought you made them for the trial.—Yes; but I thought the others would do; I could not put them in my pocket.

The Solicitor-General: And this was the end of your " morals?" [The witness had pronounced the word " models" thus.]—I believe I did not tell Mr. Spofforth about the models. No one told me that, as they were too big for my pockets, they might as well be put behind the fire. I did state in the letter that I should be ready to go to Shapbell to see Mr. Moore that went out to South America with Sir Roger. I had not seen Moore for thirteen years. I saw Mr. Moore. He told me he had seen Sir Roger, and he would swear to him all over the world. I wrote to Mr. Holmes before I saw Sir Roger. The first time I saw Mr. Rouse was when he came with Sir Roger and Mr. Holmes. Mr. Rouse prepared my affidavit. He wrote it out at the London Hotel, in Poole. Mr. Holmes, Mr. Rouse, and the claimant were there. I read the first part of the affidavit, and then swore it. I only wrote the two or three letters to the Dowager Lady Tichborne. She sent me the £2 and the dozen of wine. I do not know who the gentleman was that wauted me to show him the model of the boat. Perhaps Mr. Peake told that. Several gentlemen wanted to see the model of the boat. I have never had a letter from the claimant about the Tichborne case. I do not remember receiving a letter of December 8, 1867, from the claimant. I have had letters from him when I sent him a basket of prawns. I do not know whether any are left or not. On December 11, 1867, I did not write a letter to Tichborne with one enclosed to the Dowager. I do not recollect that. When he came to Poole by train, on October 14, 1867, I only knew ail hour before that he was coming.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: To the best of my belief no one knew that Sir Roger was coming to Poole. I knew of it only an hour before lie came. Mr. Dan by Seymour told me that he was coming. A rate-collector met me in the street, and told me that Sir Roger was coming down. That was the first I heard of it. Mr. Marker is a solicitor. He is now the mayor of Poole. I do not know on which side he is acting. He brought Miss Case up to London. He wanted to make me believe that Mr. Tichborne was Don Case. Don Case was a young man who went to sea about 17 or 18 years ago. He was absent from Poole some years. The claimant is not Don Case. When Mr. Harker came he asked me whether I should know Don Case, and I told him yes, and I should know Tichborne too. Mr. Peake asked me to send all letters to him that he might read them, but I would not do so. Mr. Peake asked me what sort of a gentleman Sir Roger was before he went away, and I told him as well as I could. I have lived in Toole 57 years I have always been a fisherman or fish seller. I had no other interest than to tell the truth. There is not any pretence for saying that I have been paid a single farthing for my evidence.

Maria Gould, wife of the last witness, examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I knew Roger Tichborne about 1852 or 1853. My husband used to go out shooting and iishing with him, and I saw him frequently. He sent for me after his return to England. I was ill, and could not go. He afterwards came to my house, and I recognised him among three gentlemen who were with him in a carriage. I am quite eertain the claimant is Sir Roger Tichborne. I knew him from his general appearance, and particularly by his walk, his eyes, and his speech.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I am positive I could swear to Sir Roger all over the world. He was much like what he was before he went away. I should have known him by the likeness to Sir Edward Doughty. He was like him in every respect: when you see Sir Roger you see Sir Edward. I have not seen the claimant since that time.

Martha Legg, examined by Mr. Giffard: I was living at Upton when Master Hoger Tichborne went there before going abroad. I did some laundry work for him, and saw him from time to time while he was staying there. I saw him at the Catholic Church occasionally. I first heard of his having been lost at sea by hearing him prayed for in the Church. After his return I saw him at the London Hotel in Poole. I went into a room in which I saw two gentlemen. One was sitting at a table and the other was leaning against the window. I looked them both up and down, and then I went over to one of them—that gentleman (pointing to the claimant)—and said, " How do you do, Sir Roger " He shook hands with me, and said, " I recollect your face well, but I cannot recollect you by name." I said, " You oughtie." In a minute or two he remarked, " You are my old laundress as used to be, but I cannot recollect your name." I then said, " If I am your old laundress, can you tell me the colour of your linen He replied, "Are you alluding to my fancy shirts or pocket handkerchiefs? I replied, " To both, perhaps."

Mr. Giffard: What did he say then —He said he had some shirts with stags' heads oil them poking out. (Laughter.)

Was that right?—Perfectly right, sir.

What did he say about the handkerchiefs?—He said that some had bulls' heads on them and others had dogs' heads.

Was that right?—-Quite right. I asked him if he could remember getting into the mud, and he said he did, and that his trousers were covered with mud up to the waist. That was perfectly true.

Did he say anything else about his shirts?—Yes; he said that some were blue, some pink, and some purple.

Was that true?—Yes.

From the conversation you have had with him, what is your opinion?—My opinion is that he is Sir Roger, and that no other person could have said to me what Sir Roger said when I went into the room.

What did he say?—He said, " You have the same old face as ever; you are the woman who had an old man for a husband." (Laughter.)

Is it a fact that your first husband was an old man?—Yes; he was thirty years older than I. Sir Roger also said, " I knew your husband well; he was a tall, fine man."

How do you know the claimant is Sir Roger?—By his knowing me as his laundress, and as the woman who had an old gentleman for a husband. (Laughter.) I noticed that when he smiled he had the same twitching in his eyes and the wrinkles on his forehead which I noticed before he went away.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: Mr. Roger Tichborne was not the only person who knew that I was married to Mr. Fisher. He was right about all the colours of all the shirts. He was right as to the stag pattern. I am speaking of the time Mr. Roger came to Upton after leaving the Dragoons. He stayed about three months, and I did his washing. The first communication I had with Sir Roger after his return was about two years ago. A friend of mine told me he was coming to Poole. I went to the London Hotel and asked for Sir Roger. I was told he was at breakfast. I called a second time without seeing him, and was unsuccessful in seeing him on a third call. I walked up and down in front of the hotel until I saw the landlord, and was asked in. Soon after I saw Sir Roger. I did not know him at the first glance, but I recognised him immediately afterwards by the moving of the eyes and the mouth. I had not talked about it to anybody. I did not know the other gentleman. I saw Sir Roger smoking a cigar, and I recognised the same face as I had Been in the pantry at Upton. I did not know Sir Edward Doughty. I cannot say whether the claimant is like Sir Edward. I never had any communication with anybody from the time I first saw Sir Roger till the other day. I have mentioned what passed to many people who had asked, and I told them my opinion of Sir Roger. When I knew Mr. Roger he was a thin man.

By the Chief-Justice: Mrs. Burden told me her son said he thought I should not recognise the claimant to be Sir Roger Tichborne.

Cross-examination continued: I do not remember talking about the matter in Poole. I will not say that I did, or did not.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: Mrs. Burden said her son said he was an impostor. I said to her, " If I see him and ask him a question I shall know whether he is Sir Roger or not."

By the Chief-Justice: I cannot describe the other gentleman who was at the window when I first went into the room to see Sir Roger.

The court then adjourned till Thursday.

ELEVENTH DAY. — THURSDAY, MAY 25.

TENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

Thomas Carter, who was under cross-examination on Monday last, but was allowed to retire owing to illness, was called, and his cross-examination resumed by Mr. Hawkins.—He said: I know Sergeant Adams. He is an instructor of musketry at Alresford. I did not see him shortly before entering the service of the plaintiff, but subsequently to the event. I had made no inquiries of anybody previous to getting a letter from Sergeant Adams.

Mr. Hawkins read from the affidavit of the witness as follows: " From March, 1853, until the 25th of February, 1867, I had not seen Mr. Tichborne. I heard rumours that he was lost at sea. Lately I noticed paragraphs in the newspapers announcing that he was alive, and had returned to England. I felt interested about him, and made inquiries."

Witness: That is wrong.

Mr. Hawkins: Is it not true that you made inquiries?

Witness: I cannot swear. It was wrongly stated in the affidavit. I made no inquiries until Sergeant Adams wrote to me. Sir. Holmes prepared my affidavit. He wrote it down in my presence on the 27th June, 1867, and afterwards read it over to me. I said it was correct.

By his Lordship: I made no inquiries. My affidavit is untrue in that respect.

Mr. Hawkins read the following letter from witness to the plaintiff:—

Feb. 12, 1867. Burwell Park, near Louth, Lincolnshire.

Honoured Sir,—I take the liberty of writing to you to inform you I should be most happy to become your servant once more, that is, if you intend to koep any horses or carriages. You may not, perhaps, remember me now, but I was the last servant that lived with you in England as groom. You promised me at Thompson's, in St. Jamcs's-place, no matter who I lived with, when you came back I must come and live with you. Sir. I have a very good place in Lincolnshire as head coachman; but i think i should be more comfortable with you if you are going to keep a stud of horses. I went from Canterbury to Upton, Dorsetshire, witli you. I went by the name of " Thomas " there. Thomas would be thankful to Sir Roger if he would write a line or two in reply. — Your most humble servant.

THOMAS CARTER.

Mr. Hawkins: You had a comfortable Place in Lincolnshire?—I had, in some respects, but I should have liked to live with Sir Roger if he was the man. The old gentleman (my master) was always drunk, and half out of his mind.

Do you mean that, as he discharged you at a moment's notice, it was a proof of his being out of his mind or drunk?—He thought I had called him a liar, but I had not, and he said to me some days after, " God— your eyes, you called me a liar."

The Chief-Justice: And that is what you call a capital place?

Witness: Well, it was a good place for living, but I had great difficulty in putting up with the old gentleman.

Mr. Hawkins: At all events, we have arrived at your notion of what is a capital place.

Cross-examination continued: I was in the service of Captain Morton. I entered his service in 1859, when the regiment was stationed in Cahir. I was then 18 or 19. I was servant to Captain Vauchey afterwards, and then to Sir R. Tichbornes I was not at Portobello till the regiment went back. I was at Cahir, at Clonmel, and at Canterbury, but not at Waterford. I was at Canterbury nearly all the time. I knew the barracks well. I knew all the officers. I did not know a Mr. Bastow or Mr. Lichfield. I knew Mr. Hawker, Mr. Wardlow, and Mr. Johnstone. At Cahir the harrack-master was a man of the name of Chambers, I believe. I don't remember the name of Fussell. I remember Clarke being killed by a bay horse. M'Cann succeeded Clarke. At Cahir there were some people named O'Ryan. They were friends of Mr. Tichborne. I don't remember a family named Butler. I remember Mr. Maunders. I remember two soldiers getting drunk, and falling in as we came from the Catholic chapel. The name of one was Fenton. I don't remember the name of the other. I believe it was Larken. I was groom to Mr. Tichborne at Canterbury. Most days I was with him there. I was not always with him at Cahir. Two of the officers wore constantly playing him tricks. The matter was talked about a good deal for a day or two afterwards, and then the matter was hushed up. I never went to Mr. Tichborne's room at Cahir. Muston used to wait upon him there. I cannot remember whether our master's affairs were talked over by us. I don't remember the cow-hair being put in his bed. I had the charge of his horses in Canterbury. He had two dogs, " Spring " and " Vincent."

The Chief Justice: Why did you volunteer that?

Witness: Because it related to a conversation which I had with Sir Roger after his return. At Cahir and Clonmel Mr. Tichborne used to ride and hunt a good deal. I went with him to Upton. He was then quartered at Canterbury. I do not know whether he played at billiards a good deal. I went with the regiment from Cahir to Clonmel, and knew the officers who went with it. There were Captain Jones, Mr. Philips and Mr. Bickerstaffe. I remember Captain Polhill. He and Mr. Tichborne were great friends, as far as I could see. Mr. Tichborne was very slovenly in his dress. I do not know whether he wore an old comforter. I never saw him with one.

By the Chief-Justice: I attended him when he went hunting during his stay at Canterbury.

Examination continued: The name of the tailor was Greenwood. There was a man named Thomas Edwards. Bullamore was the sergeant-major of the troop while Mr. Tichborne was in the regiment. Llewellyn was another troop sergeantmajor. I recollect a black man named Hines. He smoked a great deal. He always smoked cigars when I saw him. The regiment went from Dublin to Herne Bay. I knew the officers' quarters pretty well. I can't say there was a great deal of talk between M'Cann and me as to Mr. Tichborne's illness. I can't remember about Mr. Tichborne being bled in the ankle at Canterbury. I heard M'Cann talk about it afterwards at Croydon. M'Cann mentioned then about his surprise that the claimant should have lived to be such a fine man. There was only M'Cann and I present when it was mentioned. M'Cann and I did not talk about the bleeding at Maidstone. I had no conversation about anything, but told him that our old master was returned. The time of the conversation about the bleeding at Croydon was at the second visit. I took M'Cann to Croydon to see the plaintiff. I did not speak about the bleeding in the ankle until five or six months after that time. I was staying with Mr. Tichborne at Upton in 1852 during the whole of the time that he was on leave of absence. Ho went away, and I remained at Upton in charge of the horses. I remember the night that he got stuck in the mud at Upton. What Moore said about that curcumstance is correct.

The Solicitor-General read a letter from Serjeant Adams to the witness, dated February 8, 1867, in which the following passage occurred:—

I must tell you that Alresford is all alive to-day, the church bells are ringing for Sir Roger ichborne, who has come to-day, and is going to stay for two weeks with Mr. Hopkins, in Broad street.

By the Chief Justice: That was the first I heard from any person about the return of Sir Koger.

Cross-examination resumed: I subsequently wrote and asked him to take me into his service. At Upton, Mr. Tichborne shot and hunted, and drove tandem. When be drove tandem I was with him, and was often with him at other times. I knew Mr. Greenwood was his tailor. Mr. Gosford was, I believe, the greatest friend of Mr. Tich borne at the time. I never saw Mr. Rouse at Upton. I never saw Mr. Baigent until I saw him at Croydon. Mr. Tichborne used to visit and dine at Admiral Garlands, about five miles from Upton. The letters for Mr. Tichborne used to be brought for him from Poole by a postman. His amusements were principally fishing, shooting, and hunting. I was generally with him, and knew pretty well what he did. Sir Edward Doughty and Lady Doughty did not reside at Upton at the time. I do not recollect an old huuter, "Cock Robin," belonging to Sir E. Doughty. I did not go to Baih with Mr. Tichborne, nor did I know of his going there. He never wrote to me whilst I was in his service. I don't know his handwriting. He was a shy man. Before he left England he came to London, and I went with him to Mrs. Thompson's in St. James's-place. His hair was a shade lighter than now, very slovenly, very limp, and would not curl a bit. I heard nothing of him, except he was lost at sea, from 1853 to 1857. I first saw him at Essex Lodge. I recognised him by his voice before I saw him. After I entered the house Sir Roger came to the top of the stairs, and said to the butler, " Let Thomas have all the refreshment he requires, and when I have done breakfast I shall see him."

Mr. Hawkins: So you recognised a voice without accent as the voice of a man who used to speak broken English?—Yes. That was before I had been in the house three minutes The tone of the voice was the same, but a little rougher. There was no broken English. Mr. Tichborne's voice, in 1853, was mild, but still a little rough. I always thought he was asthmatical. After he finished his breakfast I went up to see him. He got up, and I was astonished. I could not recognise him at first by his appearance. After half an hour's conversation I recognised him by the eyes, the upper part of the forehead, and the hair. I noticed the twitching of the eyes, which occurred, perhaps, three or four times within the half hour. He sat with his back to the light, and I asked him to change, so that his face would catch the light. He did not wear his hair so long as he formerly did. The hair was darker a shade than Roger's, and was not worn in the same way. I do not remember a trace of a curl in the hair of Roger Tichborne of 1853. I do not think the plaint ff's hair curls, but it is worn longer. I cannot remember that Roger Tichborne's hair curled at all. As to the hair, I recognise the colour, the slovenly way he wore it, and the way it came over his forehead. At Croydon it was brushed back. In 1853 it used to come forward, and a little was hanging down. I did not see a particle of the claimant's hair hanging down at Croydon, as Roger Tichborne's used to do. Roger Tichborne's hair was won much shorter than the claimant's. The forehead projects, and the wrinkles are just the same. The eyes are just the same. He had big eyes, and they seemed to turn up large when he talked. I thought there was a difference in the nose. I can't say whether there is a great deal of difference, or a little, but there is a difference in the bridge of the nose. I think Roger Tichborne's nose was narrower when he was in the regiment and when he left England. I cannot remember anything about the mouth or chin. The mouth may be more fleshy, but the mouth is like. He had a peculiarity in walking. He was " knock-kneed." I could have told him a mile off. I recognised him after two hours' conversation.

By the Chief-Justice.—I was not sure before, but after two hours I was certain about the man. I noticed that the claimant had increased very much in size.

Mr. Hawkins: You stated in your affidavit—" The butler, William, answered the door, and while I was talking to him Sir Roger called out. I recognised his voice and said, ' That is Sir Roger Tichborne; I know his voice,' Immediately afterwards I saw the plaintiff, and I had no difficulty whatever iu recognising him as my old master." Is that true?—I did not take that notice. I answered the question Mr. Holmes put.

By the Lord Chief-Justice: I recognised the claimant at once, but I did not satisfy myself till after the two hours' conversation.

Mr. Hawkins: Is it true that immediately after you saw him you had no difficulty whatever in recognising him?—I believe I said so.

Is it true?—I recognised him.

You said that you were not satisfied till you had had two hours' conversation. Is that true?—It is. After the affidavit was prepared I read it; but, like many other readers, I read without taking notice. I know the difference between a lie and the truth.

Now, having gone to see him on February 25, you parted fvom him without a word being said as to your going back to his service?—Yes. On that day he did not tell me that he wanted to know anything about the regiment. The second day he said to me, " I want you to make an affidavit for me if you are satisfied that I am the man."

On the first occasion did you say anything to him about entering his service?—No. He talked to me about what had occurred during the time he was in the regiment.What he said was correct.

Was Bogle in the house when you went there?—No, he came in soon after.

Was Bogle living in the house?—He had his board there, but he did not sleep in the house.

Did he come in during your conversation with the claimant?—To the best of my recollection he did not. I dined with the servants.

The Chief-Justice: Do you mean to say you spent all that time with him without asking him what he wanted you for?—Yes, my lord. He did not tell me what was the particular business he wished to see me about, and which he had alluded to in his letter to me. I did not want to put the word to him. He talked to me about what? had occurred whilst he was in the regiment. Borne of the circumstances to which he alluded I remembered—some I did not. Nothing was said to me about making an affidavit until the next day.

Cross-examination resumed: I did not tell Mr. Holmes that I had had two interviews with the claimant; and that I was engaged to enter his service the first day I called on him.

Mr. Hawkins Nothing was said in your affidavit about the second day s visit.—Well, that is Mr. Holmes's fault, then.

His Lordship: If this affidavit was drawn up from statements of a similar nature to those which the witness is now making on his oath, it certainly conveys the most erroneous impression possible.

Cross-examination resumed: I was in conversation with the claimant for about an hour the second day I was at Croydon. I gave him to understand that I had left my situation on his account. When we got to town he said, at Mr. Holmes's office in the Poultry, that he thought he was bound to take me into his service, and he intended to keep some horses. I presumed that the object of my going to Mr. Holmes's office was to make an affidavit.

Did you know why he was taking you to Mr. Holmes's office?—I had a pretty good idea within myself that I was going to make in affidavit. When I entered the service of the claimant he had no horses.

What were you to do then?—I was to walk about and do othor things. (Laughter.) I had £1. per week and board; and out of that I had to pay 9s. pier week for lodgings. At Mr. Lester's I had £50 per year, a house, and vegetables.

Mr. Hawkins: Well, then, I should think that that was the best place of the two. —Well, you see, I thought that if he was Sir Roger, and was going to set up horses and carriages and harness, that it would be a little money in my pocket. (Laughter.) I was not supplied with a livery. I had a couple of suits of clothes found me. The horses came some time after. I drove them and broke them in. My wife went into the service perhaps two months after the time I entered. Mr. Cater visited at Essex Lodge. I do not remember Mr. Daigent, Mr. House, or Mr. Bloxam frequently calling at Essex Lodge. I saw them at Willesby Villa at different times. Kingston used to come at night to sit and drink with him. Mr. and Mrs. Holmes came. Mr. Guilford Onslow came a time or two as far as I know. I know that Mr. Rouse kept a publichouse at Alresford. I do not know that Baigent is a bill-discounter. When first I saw him I thought he was a priest. I knew M'Cann. I had lost sight of him for many years. I had seen M'Cann once since 1853 and 1867, probably that was in 1854.

At this point, on some remark which was made by counsel,

The Chief-Justice said that from the nature of the case the cross-examination was necessarily very leng'hy, and he did not see how it could be shortened.

The Solicitor-General said if the claimant had been put in the box before the crossexamination would not have been half so long.

The Chief-Justice: I do not and cannot complain.

The Foreman of the Jury: Neither do we. No complaint comes from us.

Cross examination continued: I did not know where M'Cann was living in 1867. I entered the plaintiffs service on the 26th February. I went to Maidstone in March, 1867. I was sent there by Mr. Holmes to know if he could come and ascertain whether the claimant was Sir Roger Tichborne. I got M'Cann's address from Mr. Homes. I told M'Caun that my old masler got very stout, and that he could hardly know him. I said I had not a shadow of doubt about him, but that Mr. Holmes wished him to go and judge for himself. He said that if anybody Could know him he should. He went with me to Croydon, and on the way we had a conversation about the different officers in the regiment. I mentioned to M'Cann that the claimant had told many things which I had forgotten. M'Cann is a very particular man. He said if he was satisfied that the claimant was Sir Roger he would make an affidavit. I don't know that he saw Holmes before he saw the claimant. I will not swear that before the claimant took me into his service he told me that he had been to Alresford and to Tichborne, or that he had gone there before he saw the Dowager Lady Tichborne. I went to Alresford with the claimant. I had no horses to look after. I admit that I spread it far and wide that the claim nt was Sir Roger, because I had no doubt that he was the same man. I cannot say that while I was at Alresford I learned that the claimant had been there once or twice before. I was sent to Sandhurst by Mr. Holmes for the purpose of seeing Waddington, and the men who were there belonging to the legiment. I knew Waddington well, and also Kearns, Wyld, and Troy. I told Wad lington that Mr. Tichborne had come home, and that I had seen him. I cannot s ry that I told him that Mr. Tichborne was so altered that nobody could know him. I got Waddington to go and see Sir Roger. I never asked him or anybody else to make an affidavit. I got Waddington and Wyld to come to Mr. Holmes's office in London. I talked to them a good deal, but I dou't know that I referred to what Sir Roger had said. I told them that he was the man, but that they should go and satisfy themselves. Wyld had no business to say that I went up and down and talked about the case in public-houses. I told everybody that Sir Roger had come home.

The Chief-Justice: Who paid for this drink?—I paid for it myself, my lord.

Mr. Hawkins: From whom did you get the money?—From Mr. Holmes. He generally gave me £5 at a time. I got £5 when I went to Sandhurst. I don't recollect that I gave Mr. Holmes any account of it. Soon after he asked me to give him an account of the money he gave me.

The Chief-Justice: How much did he give you altogether?—That I really don't know, my lord

Mr. Hawkins: Have you given him or anybody else any account of the money you have got?—I cannot swear that I did or did not. I remember the Croydon races in May, 1867. I went there with Bogle. I don't remember whether the claimant went there or not; neither do I remember that he said he knew there was a lot of people hankering about to see him, and that he would not go out until the races were over. I would not swear whether my old master had told me that some military gentlemen had called, and that he would not see them. I would not swear that he made inquiries about any gentlemen. I can't say one way or the other. I will swear to the truth, and nothing else.

Mr. Hawkins: You have told me that so often that I shall never forget it. Do you remember your master going to bed suddenly?—No, I do not.

Or being taken ill when people called?—No; I had reason to go up-stairs.

Do you remember seeing a photograph of Upton House in the month of May?— That I won't swear to.

Oh, come now.—I won't really.

You knew very well that Roger Tichborne had been at Upton. Had you been there youraelf between 1853 and 1867?—Certainly not.

Did you ever see a picture of Upton when you were at Croydon in the month of May?—I can't say.

Do you mean that you have forgotten it?—I have forgotten it.

I suppose you would know a picture of Upton if you saw one?—I don t know that I should.

I suppose you would not recognise the place you lived in then?—I can't say.

Did your master show you two photographs of Upton?—H might, but I cannot swear whether he did or did not. I cannot swear whether I recollect it or not.

Did you see two photographs which were said to be pictures of Upton?—I would not swear that I did.

Did you look at two pictures?—I can't say.

Did you not see if you could point out the room where young Tichbome slept?—I can't say.

Now, I ask you this: Did not the claimant present to you two pictures or photographs of Upton House, and ask you if you could point out the room in which young Tichborne slept in 1853?—I can't say whether he did or not

The Chief-Justice: Now, be careful. Do I understand you to swear that he did not?—No, my lord; I cannot remember it. It would be foolish of me to say things that I do not recollect. It might have occurred to me, or it might not. I know Mr. Peek, the saddler, and I believe I remember his calling at Wellesiey Villa. I cannot say that my master was in the house at the time.

The Chief Justice: You must be careful; you have said that you believed he was in the house. Now, what is your answer?—Upon my oath, I could not say.

Mr. Hawkins: Had you seen Mr. Peek that morning?—I can't say.

What made you say you believed he was in the house?—I could not say he was in the house. I can't say one way or the other. I said I believed he was there from speaking too fast.

When you swear you believed he was in the house, was it so, or not?—I do not know.

Do you remember whether you had seen Mr. Peek that morning?—I cannot say. I cannot remember whether Mr. Peek asked me a question.

Have you had any advice as to answering these questions?—What do you mean?

Have you had any advice from anybody?—No.

I don't know whether anybody has suggested to you that you could not he hurt by simply saying you " don't know?"—Upon my oath no one has said so.

You have not been told that?—I will not swear, I do not know. I said I believe he was there from speaking too fast.

Has not, Mr. Peek told you that your master was not in the house?— I don't know

When Mr. Peek walked away, did you not run after him to see who he was? might have done, but I can't say.

The Chief-Justice: Do you remember speaking to him? Be careful how you answer.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you see Mr. Peek knock at the door?—No, I did not. To the best of ray recollection he merely asked me where Wellesley Villa was, and I told him I was going to my stables, and might have been 200 or 300 yards from them at the time, but I won't swear.

Were you not actually in the house when Mr. Peek called?—Upon my solemn oath I cannot say.

Were you not in the house when he called?—I can' t remember.

Did you hear an answer given to Mr. Peek that your master was not at home?—I might, but I can't remember. known what it is to want a dinner and a shilling in the streets of London since I left him. The plaintiff would not give me a character. I went with the plaintiff to Malvern against his wish, but owing to Kearns's intercession. I do not remember whether we went on to Cirencester, but I think I was left at Worcester. I met with an accident at Malvern. I do not remember seeing the Rev. Mr. Deane and his wife on the platform. I would not swear that I did not see them, nor that I did not point them out to the plaintiff. I do not remember seeing Captain Pinkney at Worcester. I cannot remember a single thing that was done on the journey. I do not remember an affidavit was made. I do not rem mber whether Mr. Holmes or Mr. Baigent was there. I only remember Mr. Kearns. I did nothing. I do not think that I subsequently went to Winchester. I remember the plaintiff being examined at the Law Institution. I do not know how long I was there. I do not remember whether M'Canu was there. I cannot remember the names of any of the old officers of the Carabineers who were present there. I do not remember whether the plaintiff or Holmes asked me to go up to the Law Institution and look round to see whether I knew anybody who was there. I will not swear that he did not. I do not remember seeing Captain Polhill Turner there, and pointing him out to the plaintiff. I do not remember saying to Captain Turner, " I saw you at the Law Institution, sir." I will not say that I did not. I do not remember whether the plaintiff said he should have to prepare for his examination. I did not go to Romsey with him. I did not go to Bath with him. I remember Mrs. M'Arthur. I do not remember saying to her and other servants that I had been to the Carabineers, and bad got a great deal of information.

Will you undertake to say, if she has sworn it, that it is false?—I do not remember.

Do you remember saying if the plaintiff got the estates that you would get a good sum of money, and ought to?—I do not remember.

Will you swear that you never said such a thing to Bogle?—I do not remember. I will not swear one way or the other.

Did you call at the old house, 35, St. James's-place, where Sir Roger lived before he went away?—I do not know.

Did you tell the lady who occupied the house that when the plaintiff got the estates you were to have a house rent free and furnished?—I never did.

Did you call at the house?—I do not remember; I might, and I might not.

You might have done?—I do not think so.

Will you swear you did not?—No, I cannot swear. I know Mr. Heysham, but I do not remember having said since this trial that the claimant would not have known half the military witnesses if it had not been for me.

Do you mean to say that?—On my oath I quite forget it. I forget whether I have spoken to him. The Mr Tichborne who went away was a gentlemanly young man. I do not remember Rouse staying at the claimant's house, but he dined at the house. I remember a dinner party, where the claimant, his wife. Holmes and his wife,. Bloxam, and others were present. I do not remember Mr. Holmes singing '' Sammy Slick. (Laughter). I do not remember that any of the young Roger's old acquaintances dined with the plaintiff.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: I was in the claimant's service in February, 1867, and remained till he went to live at Alresfurd, twelve or fifteen mouths, or more. I left because Sir Roger, to suit Mr. Rouse, would not take me with him. In fact, I did not care about going. He said that if he could find a party at Alresford, where I used to live, he would send for me, but he never wrote. I suppose it was all settled between Mr. Rouse and him that I was not to go. I do not remember him making any complaint about me, or about my taking too much drink. I entered his service again, however, and remained with him for about nine months, till he returned to London When I was out of a situation, I asked him to take me on again, and I remained with him till December, 1870, when we had some words, and I again left. I do not remember whether he complained of my having had too much to drink. Two glasses will take effect on me, so that I cannot take a great deal. The drinking with the soldiers alluded to was at Westminster, in a publichouse close to the bridge. One of them was Corporal Oven, late of the Carabineers, and Withers, whom I had known at Cahir. They asked me to have a glass with them, and naturally I went along. (Laughter.) I cannot remember whether it was the same day I saw Major Bott. I remember him saying that he believed the claimant was the man, or that he was not the man. (Laughter.) The only thing he said was that ho had never believed or disbelieved in Sir Roger, and that he was neutral about it. I told Major Bott that I was glad to hear that he had distinguished himself in India, and I believe that was about all I said. I might have told him that Sir Roger behaved ungratefully to me; but I cannot remember. I first of all saw Sir Roger's case in the newspapers, and then I began to take an interest in it. Half an hour might have elapsed when I went to Essex Lodge before Sir Roger came down stairs. I might have heard his voice for a quarter of an hour before he came down. I did not believe him to be my old master until an hour or an hour and a half afterwards. During the conversation he said, " Thomas, do you overbalance your coat now?"

The Solicitor-General objected to this matter as not arising out of the crossexamination.

Witness, however, was allowed partly to explain the " overbalancing of the coat," which referred to a circumstance when he fell out of a dogcart whilst riding with Mr. Tichborne from Ashford.

Re-examination continued: He said to me, " Do you remember overbalancing your coat?" and I replied, " That is past and gone, sir." Then he spoke about officers, and asked me about Colonel Jones and Colonel Hay, and wondered whether they were alive. He mentioned their names to me. He asked me if I remembered his servant being killed by one of his chargers, and I said, " Which charger, sir?" He replied, " Why, my first charger; that runaway brute." That was correct. Next he asked me if I recollected one of his horses shaking off his bridle in the field, and I inquired which one, and he said, " My second charger." That was correct. Then he asked me if Captain Pinckney was alive, and he added, " He was a rum devil. Do you remember his fishing for the old Frenchman's ducks?" I said, " Where was that?" and he answered " At Cahir." I said. " How did he fish for them?" and he replied, " Why, he put pieces of bread on a hook, and then drew them out." (Laughter.) I remember this perfectly well. The conversation then turned upon his dogs Spring and Piecrust to which I have referred.

Witness was about to enter into other explanations, which

The Chief-Justice held to be inadmissible, remarking: You have nothing to complain of as to memory now, Mr. Giffard.

Mr. Giffard: I never complained, my lord. I can understand that evidenoe differs according to treatment.

Witness continuing: He could not have answered my questions if he had been an impostor I thoroughly believe him to be my old master. I should have written to Lady Alfred if he was not the man. Whilst I remained at Essex Lodge, a man named Carwell, I remember, came down on false pretences. I knew him in the Carabineers as a corporal I did not see any one else connected with the regiment before I made my affidavit. Major Bott and Betty came afterwards. I believe the Major gave his proper name when he called. I believe my master was very ill at the time. The doctor, I know, was sent for in a very great hurry to attend him on one occasion I think Mr. Tichborne lived at Essex Lodge for about six months altogether. His hair is a shade lighter than it was fourteen years ago, and longer behind. He was slovenly in his dress, and never tidy and " natty,'' as other gentlemen were. He told me a great deal more aboutthe Carabineers than ever I knew. He never asked me a question about either officers or men. I never pointed out to the claimant the bedroom where Mr. Roger used to sleep. I cannot remember whether I ever saw a photograph of Upton. I never, to my recollection, asked persons to make affidavits without using their own judgment That is the only way I have collected evidence. I was never asked where the old officers of the Carabineers lived. I never knew anything about Alfred's watch. I have been an officer's servant most of my life.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I did not see the bridle come off the horse's head in the field. I heard of it. I was told the story about the Frenchman's ducks.

By Mr. Giffard: I know of no person who could have told the claimant those stories if he had not been the man himself.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

TWELFTH DAY.—FRIDAY, MAY 26.

ELEVENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

On the Chief-Justice taking his seat to-day, the subject of the accommodation for the court was discussed by his lordship and the learned counsel, and the necessity was urged of seeking a larger place for the purpose of this trial.

The Rev. Robert Edwards Guy: I am a priest at St. Ann's Catholic Church, Liverpool, and was educated at St. Gregory's from 15 to 17 years ago. Mr. Alfred Tichborne was a pupil there for five years. I saw him just beforo he was mariied. He died. I only saw Roger once, when became to take leave of his brother. I saw the claimant on the 9th of October, 1867, at the railway station at Winchester, and saw there was a likeness. I have seen him often since, and believe he is the brother of Alfred, Sir Roger.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I live at Liverpool. I have seen the claimant on two or three occasions—once at Preston. I went to see him with a friend, a Mr. Segar, who thought he would know him. Mr. Segar was a barrister, and was educated at Stonyliurst I returned to Liverpool with him. I made an appointment that the claimant should meet William Segar. I think I was asked to do so by a letter from Baigent. I have probably destroyed the letter. I had seen the claimant at Winchester. I used to write to ask how Mr. Baigent was getting on. All his letters are destroyed. I remember something peculiar about the eyes of the young man. I have no recollection sufficient to make my evidence worth anything.

The Chief-Justice: He has been brought from Liverpool to prove that he saw a likeness between Alfred and the plaintiff.

A portrait of Alfred was placed in his hand. I do see some likeness between this and the claimant—a slight likeness.

The Chief-Justice to the jury: He is brought up to prove that there is a slight likeness to Alfred.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: No, not to prove, but to give evidence.

The Chief-Justice: That is the same thing; at all events, as I used the word.

Examination resumed: I think the claimant is like Alfred, and less like the miniature, and the claimant being like Alfred, the miniature is like the claimant. I can't say Roger was like Alfred. The claimant's att rneys wrote to me about Muston, an old servant, who lived near Liverpool. I sent his address, and heard from them again. He was not one of my congregation. I sent for him. He was living across the water (in Cheshire). He came, and I made the inquiries. I asked him if he would remember his old master. I mentioned Father Cooper to the claimant. He believed he was an impostor. He will be a witness. I asked Segar to seethe claimant. He will not be a witness—he is dead.

The Solicitor-General: Then we shall not see him? (Laughter.)—Not yet. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: Well, at present we will keep to the living. (Laughter.)

Cross-examination continued: I do not recollect having communicated with any other witnesses. I was not in communication with any attorney m Liverpool.

Re-examined: Alfred was 26 when he died. I have spoken of my recollection of him when he was 24.

To the Chief-Justice: The slight and only resemblance in the miniature to the claimant is the eyebrows, which are arched much more than in most persons.

The Rev. Ralph Cooper, incumbent of St Augustine's Catholic Church, Liverpool.—I was president of a college in Yorkshire. I remember having met Mr. Roger Tichborne at Mr. Robert Tichborne's in Bath. According to my recollection that was about 1848. I saw bim at Mr Robert Tichborne's I saw him in the street and elsewhere. I am under the impression I saw him at Lord Arundel's. That was either in 1851 or 1858. I have kept no notes of the dates. I have a recollection of his appearance. It is not a strong recollection, but, I bad reason for bis appearance being impressed upon my mind. I first beard of the supposed return of Roger some time ago; but I do not exactly know when. I first saw bim in 1868, and at that time I had formed a strong impression against him. When he first called upon me I conversed with him for about an hour. The next time I saw him I was with him from one to two hours. From those conversations I arrived at the conclusion that he was the former Roger Tichborne whom I had seen in Bath. My deliberate judgment now is that he is Sir Roger.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I did not see him more than four or five times before 1868. I had not much talk with him. I was more a listener and an observer. I was observing the individual whenever I met him. I think I met him since at Wardour. I believe 1 met him twice at Mr. Robert Tichborne's. I cannot say whether it was in 1851 or 1853 I met him at Wardour. I believe I was at Wardour before 1853, hut I would not say positively. I will not swear that I ever was at Wardour Castle before March, 1853. I heard of the supposed death of Roger Tichborne from the papers. I cannot tell where I heard of his supposed return. The first communication I had relating to this claim was with the Rev. Mr. Ewy, about the beginning of 1868. That was the first time I had any communication, verbal or written, on the subject. That was at Liverpool, or in the neighbourhood of Liverpool. I did not go to Croydon at the time. I knew the Dowager Lady Tichborne. I did not see her in February, 1868; and before the 13th I believe I have never been at Croydon in my life. I did not see the Dowager Lady Tichborne anywhere in February, 1868. I did not a day or two before February, 1868, see the claimant and Lady Tichborne in or near London. I was not at Lady Tichborne's house in that month, or at her hotel. I know one other Mr. Cooper, a priest, I do not know where he is placed as a priest. I do not know where he was in February, 1868 The one to whom I refer is a relative of mine. I did not know of a Mr. Cooper, a priest, being there at that time. About February, 1868. I had no communication with Mr. Holmes or his client, or any one on his behalf, or any one on the side of the claimant. I had not intimated to anyone that I was going to make an affidavit against the claimant. I first saw the claimant at Liverpool, in 1868, at my own house. He stayed there about an hour. I did not recognise him then. The second interview I had with him was at No. 37, Seel-street. It was at a frieud's house. He was one of our priests. His name was the Rev. Mr. Davy, or the Rev. Mr. Caldwell. There were some changes at that time, and I cannot specifically state who was at the head of the mission. The claimant and I dined there. The Rev. Mr. Ewy and Mr. Baigent dined there, but not Mr. Holmes. I do not remember whether there were other persons. I was there about a couple of hours. I was not in conversation previously. I spoke to him, but I was chiefly a listener. It is true that I dined with him. I spent several hours in conversation with him. That would be a time account of that day. I was chiefly a listener. The time that I spent several hours in conversation was during dinner and after dinner. I saw him in the evening at his hotel after dinner. I had a conversation with him afterwards. Mr. Baigent was there. Mr. Ewy was there part of the time. Two persons came into the room afterwards; but I do not remember their names. I believe they had been witnesses. He told rue when he first, remembered meeting me. I think it was in the morning at my own house. He said it was at Mr. Robert Tichborne's. He told me also that he met me at Wardour Castle. I do not recollect what the particulars were. I think I swore my affidavit on April 2, 1868. It was drawn up by Mr. Baigent. I gave Mr. Baigent instructions for it on the evening of the 1st of April. I should think he heard most of the particulars. I do not remember that I told Baigem what had passed when the claimant gave me particulars of what had passed at Wardour Castle, nor do I think I mentioned it. I do not think I said anything in conversation with him which would have implied that the meeting took place in 1851. I do not think I had any date fixed in my mind at that time. I have no other Christian name than Ralph; but in religion I am called Wilfred. In all matters of law I sign myself Ralph; but if writing to a confrere I should sign myself Wilfred. The signature in the book produced, " R. W. Cooper," is my handwriting, and so is the signature to the affidavit, " Ralph Cooper." I sign my name in three ways—R. W. Cooper, R. Cooper, anil W. Cooper.

The Solicitor-General: Have yon, on looking at the signature in the book (the visitors' book at Wardour Castle), any doubt about your first visit to Wardour Castle being in 1853?—I have still an impression that I see in the book the words " first time" against my name in the late Cord Arundel's writing, and I had a conversation with him about it. I remained at Wardour Castle eight or nine days. Lord Arundel told me that he had put against, my name the words "first time," and I said, " I think not " He then said, " We will ta k about that another time." We neither of us thought it a matter of much importance. We were very intimate. I will not undertake to say that I was ever at Wardour Castle before 1853. I did not keep a diary at that time. There are no records of the movements of priests of the order to which I belong.

The Solicitor-General: Will you pledge your oath that yon ever met Roger Tichborne at Wardour?— No, I would not pledge my oath that I ever saw him there.

The Solicitor-General: If you have sworn that you well remember having met him there, is that going further than you are prepared to go now?

The Chief-Justice: If he has sworn that in his affidavit, it is manifest that he has sworn that on paper which he will not swear in the witness box.

Witness: When I took the affidavit, the words " well remember" I put in purposely to show that I would not say as much as I had said in the first portion of the affidavit.

The Chief Justice: You think that explains the matter?—It explains the matter so far as my own conscience is concerned.

The Solicitor-General: When these words were put in this, they were put in to satisfy your conscience. Have you any doubt of having met Roger Tichborne at Wardour Castle? —I have no doubt of having met him at Lord Arundel's. The matter of meeting the claimant at Lord Arundel's was called to my memory by Mr. Roger Tichborne.

Before you saw him or afterwards?—Before I made the affidavit.

Have you any doubt of seeing Roger Tichborne at Wardour Castle before you saw the claimant?—Before I saw the claimant I had an impression that I met him not only at Bath, but also at Wardour Castle; and in consequence of that I thought that if I did meet the claimant—though I did not wish to meet him—that I should know him.

Did yon see him?—I did see him; and I was convinced before I made the affidavit. And then yon were under no doubt that you had met him at Wardour Castle?—I was at that time under no doubt.

What doubts or difficulties of conscience had you to satisfy?—Simply that the word " meeting " came from the claimant and not from me.

Were yon, or were yon not, certain, after the conversation, that you had met him at Wardour?—I felt certain.

Did you feel as certain as that you had met him at Bath?—I did feel as certain.

The Chief Justice: Is there any difference in your mind between " re collect and " well remember," and did you insert the words to satisfy your conscience?— I wish to express that.

The Solicitor-General: Will yon draw any distinction that I can understand between " recollecting" and " well remembering? "—I am not aware that I can explain myself better than I have done

Is there any difference between well remembering a man, and well-remembering meeting a man?—I have no farther explanation to give.

Is there any to be given?

The witness made no reply, upon which

The Chief-Justice said: You must remember that you drew a distinction, which you said was to satisfy your conscience What we want to know is what distinction there is in your mind?—I wished to make out, if I could, that I was less certain about the meeting at Wardour than I was about the other.

Cross-examination continued: There was a twitching of the mouth pretty often. To my mind it was a very marked peculiarity. The peculiarity of his voice and his manner of speaking at Bath, in 1848, was that the voice was remarkable, so as to make an impression on my mind at that time, in 1868. There was a roughness in the voice. There was a kind of " husk" in the tone. When he spoke to Mrs. Robert Tichborne, his aunt, he generally spoke French. I doubt whether his French would bear strict examination. He talked fluently, and I thought the accent was not good. He talked English to his uncle and to me. He spoke that in a very broken way. He talked French, but his English was broken, and he had a strong French accent. When I saw him in 1868 the strong French accent had, to my thinking, gone entirely. The voice at that time had a roughness of tone in it, and reminded me of the voice of the Roger Tichborne of former years. If I had merely heard his voice I certainly should not have recognised him. The twitching of the mouth was marked in 1868. The twitching went on at intervals all day. I watched for that, and closely looked to see whether the twitching was assumed, and the conclusion I arrived at was that the individual could not have put it on.

The daguerreotype of Roger Tichborne, taken before he left England, was handed to the witness, who said that he did not recognise it as anyone whom he had previously known.

The witness said he never could recognise people by photographs, when the SolicitorGeneral handed to him two photographs of the claimant, which he immediately recognised. In photograph G (of the Roger Tichborne of 1853), the witness could see a slight resemblance to the original about the eyes. In the two portraits of the claimant he said there was something about the eyes and eyebrows which resembled the young Roger Tichborne whom he had known in 1818.

Cross-examination continued: The shape of the eye and the eyebrow itself reminds me of the young Roger Tichborne. The resemblance strikes me, but I cannot explain it.

By the Chief-Justice: Taking the portraits on the whole, I should say they were something like. The eyes and eyebrows are the only features which would bring to my recollection the Tichborne of former times.

Cross-examination continued: On photograph G being handed to tho witness, he said: I should take it to be a likeness of the individual I havo just seen, but I cannot see it perfectly. I should take this to be a likeness of the former Koger Tichborne. Something, especially the upper part of the face, is very much like tho claimant. I gave instructions to Mr. Baigent to prepare the affidavits. It took the shape in which I swore it on the 2nd of April. It was read over carefully, and I attended to it. I swore that the statements were in my knowledge. I did it deliberately

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I wish the jurors to see the book with the signature..

The book was accordingly handed to them.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: A conversation took place between Lord Arundel and myself as to the words " from the time," when we were at Stourton. It is still my impression that I met him there. There was a twitch on the the lip, and I think on the right side of the face. I have no interest of any kind or description to the amount or a farthing in tne decision of the present case. It is against my private feeling to come here.

Sir Frederick Augustus Talbot Clifford Constable, examined by Mr. Giifard, said: I am deputy lieutenant of the East Riding of Yorkshire. When young I used frequently to go to Paris with my parents. I was then perhaps six or seven. I used frequently to be associated with young Roger Tichborne. I remember his coming on a visit to Burton Constable to spend the vacation. We were constant companions. That was the last time I saw him before he left for South America. I do not remember whether that vacation would be three or six weeks. It is about three years since I saw him again. That was at the Royal Station Hotel, at Hull. I took him to Burton Constable. He was there four or five days in my company. I did not exactly personally recognise him as the person I had known as a boy. I afterwards arrived at the conclusion that the claimant was Roger Tichborne. He reminded me of cutting down a hedge in a field. He asked if I would mind taking him to the field where we cut down the hedge. I said, " Not in the least." He walked to the direct spot whero he cut down the hedge, and asked what had become of the stumps. I then remembered perfectly that we had cut a hedge down. Wo went to the place where we had cut it down. I do not know what had become of the stumps. I perfectly remembered that there were stumps there. He asked, " What has become of a square hedge, near a building where we usually smoked?" and, recognising the place, he remarked on its being unnecessary to introduce an iron fence there. That was perfectly accurate. I remembered it as soon as he told me. I never suggested anything to him. He said, " Do you remember when the butler did not bring the wine round, and I did it for him?" I remembered the circumstance perfectly, and he accurately represented it. He also referred to a black mare that he had gone over to purchase from Mr. Lambert at my request. He reminded me that, after purchasing it, he led it home himself. He said he believed he had got it at a reduced price, because Lambert had taken rather too freely. The circumstances were represented to me by the original Roger Tichborne as having taken place. I had been through several bedrooms at Burton Constable. He thought he knew something about mine the first evening. He said he had not seen his room yet, because it had a peculiar window, and he reminded me of our going out there to smoke. I took him into the library to show him the theatre. We had something like a dispute. I said the theatricals were in the theatre. He persisted that they were in the library. I found subsequently that he was right, and I was wrong. He called with me at a shop in Hull belonging to Mr. White. I did not tell either who the other was. Mr. White recognised Sir Roger at once. I was with the plaintiff and Mr. White on the road towards Barton Constable. Whilst we were on the road I believe the plaintiff pointed out to Mr. White certain alterations which had taken place. Mr. White said he was perfectly aeeurate. When we were opposite a place called Wighton House he said that Nicholson lived there. During the four or five days he was with me I had every opportunity of examining his features. I notic d the twitching of the eyes. I noticed a peculiarity in his voice whilst reading. From all I have observed I have no doubt but the present claimant is the same Roger Tichborne. I used to play with him in Paris when I was a boy.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I had heard of his being in England before I saw him, but not so very long Formerly Tichborne and I were friends. The first time I paid any attention to the return of Roger was when his mother wrote to me. That was a little previous to his visit to me. I had two or three communications with the Dowager Lady Tichborne at various times. That was about the time of the Paris Exhibition. About the Derbv Day in May, 1867, I do not remember being near London. After his mother's letter I wrote to him two or three times. I received a letter from the claimant, dated March 9, 1867. The letter is as follows:—

Essex Lodge, Thornton heath, Croydon, 9th March, 1867.

My dear Talbot,—With great pleasure I received your kind letter last night. I am sorry to hear you been ill I have not been very well myself for this last ten days I had Radcliffe and Katty and Lucy townley here to see me yesterday the meeting was not as agreeable as I should have wished it because they would not see Mamma. You must know how I must have felt, but what could I do. If I had not seen them, they would have gone and said I was frighten to show my solrs wish for me not to deny myself. I wish my dear Talbot you would come self, and it was my solrs wish for me not to deny myself. I wish my dear Talbot you would come and spend a few days with me my House is not very large, but we will find plenty of room for you. I expect to be able to go to Upton before long. Col. Lushington who lives at Tichborne has been so kind to me, that I really cannot turn him out. he offered to give up the House to me, the first time I went to Alresford—when every one seemed against me—But since my brother officers have been to see me, every body seems to change—Now they all want to'be my friends. But I say no. I dont want them. What right had they to write such things about me as they did—they reply that they were told it was not me. but then they had no right to judge before they see no—they all say they are sorry for what been done. But that does not alter the impressions that those seandalious Paragraph have made on the minds of the Public against me I have already entered actions against some of them, and they do not seem to like it. I hope my dear Talbot to have many a good Hunt with you yet. I hope you will remember me to your father, who I hope to have the pleasure of seeing before long. Of course, I have seen a great many things since I have been away, that we can talk of when we meet. Mamma tells me that you are now married so that we shall both have the pleasure of introducing one others wifes. I must now conclude for you know I am not very fond of writing. Mamma is very thankful for your kind letter. I am sorry to hear that you have given up smokeing. for my part I have given up buying retail, for I have to buy wholesale now, but the Drs have put me on short allowance lately they only allow me twenty a day. But I take care to get largest cigars I can. This is the Longest letter I have wrote this ten years. So I shall now say good bye for the present.—I remain dear Talbot truly yours.

T. G. Constable, Esq, 106, Coltman-street, Hull.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

[The witness had not at this time, as will he seen by the evidence further on, succeeded to the baronetcy.]

A long discussion ensued upon the mode in which this letter should be brought into evidence, examined upon, cross-examined upon, and generally treated; whether it should he read now as a part of the plaintiff's evidence, or, if not, when, how, and where.

Mr. Giffard said it was no doubt, evidence, but objected that it was only read now to show the bad spelling of Sir Roger. The letters ought to be read in their order.

The Chief-Justice ruled that, the letter having been produced, the SolicitorGeneral might use it as he liked.

The Solicitor-General said he had obtained the letter by the courtesy of Mr. Giffard, but courtesy conld not do away with his legal rights, and he objected to putting in the letter as part of his evidence.

The Chief-Justice: It is not worth an objection. When either of you wishes it the letter will be put in, and neither side will object.

Cross-examination by the Solicitor-General continued: I answered his letter. The letter read was not the first. I had not been in or near London about the Derby Day, 1807. I reoollect writing a letter towards the end of May stating that I was coming up to London. I did not come. I do not remember whether I heard from the claimant or from the dowager in answer. I had no communications made to me about that time from other persons as to the suit. There was a question at that time of my being godfather to one of his children. I was, but did not go to the christening. I did not see him after his return before he came to Hull. I had no letters from Mr. Holmes or Mr. Baigent. I think Mr. Norris wrote to me. He did not send me copies of affidavits. I heard from Mr. Norris, I believe, the day Sir Roger arrived. I believe I had no other letters relating to the case except those I have named. I think Mr. Norris wrote to me the day that Sir Roger arrived at Hull. That was in May, 1868. Up to that time I had received no letters from any person on plaintiff's behalf, except himself and the dowager. I think I had seen no affidavit at the time—not before eight months ago. I believe that I have only read three out of tho lot of affidavits. I succeeded to the title on last December. My father was at Burton Constable when the claimant was there, but did not see him. Claimant was only there an hour or two each time. He was only there twice. Sir Clifford was there in 1848, when Roger Charles Tichborne was there. I was 19 years of age at that time. There were two servants at Burton Constable in 1867—the coachman, and, I think, my valet, who was there in 1848, when Roger Charles Tichborne was there. Perhaps the huntsman would also be there. I think all the female servants are now gone. I could not say whether they were all gone in 1868. There was a servant there named Christopher Preston, but I don't know when he left. No one except Mr. White spoke to me on the subject of the return of the claimant. After his mother wrote to me I had no doubt of his identity.

The Solicitor-General then read the letter of Lady Tichborne to the witness:—

March 4, 1867.

My dear Mr. Talbot Constable,—though many years have elapsed since I have had the pleasure of seeing you, I have not forgotten your intimacy with my son, Sir Roger Tichborne I have often thought that both him and myself would be happy to see you again, and as he has returned from his long absence I not help writing to you to ask you when it will be possible for him to meet you. He is anxious to see his old friend, and I told him I would write to you, to let you know of his return home, if you came to Loudon with Mrs. talbot constable I shall also be happy to see her, as I have known you so very young that I can never be indifferent to your happiness. I knew your dear mother and aunt so well also that 1 am sure you will understand my joy at seeing my Dear Son again, after fourteen years' absence, of course he meets with many difficulties to recover his properties, but all's well that end well and in a short time everything will be happily settled, if you go to London, Roger will be happy, we are come to Croydon to spend two months, and we hope that after that time we may be allowed to go into the country—with kind regards to Sir Clifford Constable, and kind remembrance to yourself from your early friend Sir Roger Tichborne, I remain, my dear Mr. Talbot Constable, sincerely yours,

This is my address—

h. f. tichborne.

Lady H. f. tichborne, essex Lodge, Thornton heath, Croydon, Surrey.

Mr. Giffard drew attention to the indifferent spelling, to the phrase, " both him and me would be happy to see you again," to the small " t" in Talbot, and to the small letters in the signature and address instead of capitals.

The Chief-Justice said it was a letter that might be written by a French lady.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine observed that his lordship's remark would apply to a great many of the letters.

Cross-examination resumed: I was not aware of any person being down at Burton Constable making inquiries. I have latterly been living at Hull. I think I heard nothing of the expected arrival of the claimant at Hull until the morning he came. I thought when Lady Tichborne said it was her son there could be no doubt about it, and I acted on that presumption when I stood godfather to claimant's child. I saw Mr. Norris and Mr. Baigent at Hull. They remained there nearly a week. I saw claimant the first day that he came. I did not remember him at first. I could see nothing in him like the young Tichborne of 1848. I could not say that his manner or voice were like. In 1848 young Tichborne had a medium French accent, not strong. He talked broken English. I noticed the French accent on his return. I do not know whether he wrote in French or English. I don't recollect his tutor, M. Chatillon, and others. The house was full of company when he reached Burton Constable. I cannot say whether Mr Radcliffe was there at the time of the theatricals. He may be some connection of ours, perhaps, but it is distant. I have no independent recollection of the private theatricals which were given at Burton Constable. The claimant may be right in saying that they were in a recess in the library. I thought they were given in the theatre. The house is a large one. Many of the gentry were, I believe, invited I think they extended over two or three nights. I met the claimant at Hull, and drove him over to Burton Constable. When he asked me about the hedge which had been cut down it was immediately on our arrival on the second occasion. I was surprised that the " stumps" were gone; so was he. I believe they had become so unsightly that they were dug up. This was two fields from the stables. Claimant went to buy a black mare for me from a man named Lambert. I bought another horse from Lambert subsequently. I am quite sure the black mare was bought from Lambert. The plaintiff brought it to me. He introduced the matter to which I have referred with reference to what occurred when young Tichborne was there in 1848, and I subsequently found from inquiries that what he said was correct. These circumstances confirmed my impression of his bon fiâdes. The second day that he was at Burton Constable he recognised the room in which he had slept when there in 1848.

Would it make any difference to you it lie was cross-examined on certain matters and could not reply?—It would astonish me.

Would it alter your opinion?—I think not, after what he has told me.

Supposing he showed ignorance of things which he ought to know?—Well, I could not account for his remembering things which ho had done before.

What should you think if he recollected things which he might have been told, and could not recollect things which he had not been told?—I am satisfied that he could not have been told about those things.

But would it alter your opinion?—I cannot say. I think not. He began twitching his eyes a short time after he arrived. It was a natural twitch.

Can you recollect whether you addressed a letter to him in May, 1867?—I cannot recollect.

Did you about that time, write coldly or doubtfully to the plaintiff?—I do not think I did.

Cross-examination continued: I had no communications except from Lady Tichborne and the claimant. I had given no reason to the claimant at any time to say that he did not like the way I wrote, or to suspect that I had been tampered with by the other side. There was a question as to my being godfather to one of his children. I had no letters from Mr. Holmes or Mr. Baigent. I do not know the latter gentleman. I think a Mr. Norris wrote to me. I can't say whether he was the dowager's attorney. I believed that I heard from Mr. Norris on the day Sir Roger arrived at Hull, in May, 1868. I cannot say that I had seen affidavits and other documents before he visited Burton Constable. I succeeded to my title last December. Sir Clifford Constable, my father, was at Burton Constable when the claimant was, but I think he never saw Sir Roger.

The Solicitor-General read the following letter: —

2, Wellesley Villas, Wellesley-road, May 22, 1867.

My dear Mama,—I spoke to Mr. Holmes about your going to call on him to-day, and he says he will not be at home. This is the Derby day, and they have all gone to the races. It was very kind of you to send me the oranges and the sparrowgrass. Mary and the baby pass a very good night, and are quite well, as also little Agnes, Agnes seems to be very fond of the baby, as she crys to go and see it every time she goes up stairs. I received a letter from Talbot Constable yesterday. I hope he does not come until I am well, it makes mo so ill to be talking so much. I am not very well to-day. I am keeping my bed, and I do not intend to get up to-day to see anybody. The doctor as not been to-day, yet he told me yesterday morning to go to bed and put a poultice on. But I did put it on until last night when I went to bed, so I think that made me worse to-day, but I will soon be all right, mama dear, it only a little inflamed, and will so go away if I keep quite. Will you, my dear Mama, answer Talbot letter for me. I dont lick the way he writes. I think he has been tampered with by the other parties. He must be very careful, my dear mama, now my case is so strong. If he was to come up to be go father to my son and then say he did not know me it would injure my case very much. I will leave all to you, my dear mama, only be careful. Mary and little Agnes join me, my dear Mama, in kind love to you. Your affectionate son.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

The Solicitor-General: Now, do you recollect anything about the letter that he could not "lick?" (Laughter.)—No.

Had he told you that Radcliffe had been continually writing to you about him?—No.

The Solicitor-General read the following letters:—

Wellesely Villas, Wellesley-road, May 23, 1867.

Agnes sends you a kiss.

My dear Mama, I received your kind letter last night. I am very sorry I forgot Talbot's letter, but 1 was so unwell I could think nothmk. I am a great better to-day, thank God, as I hope this letter will find you the same. I receved a letter fur you, mama dear, and it had a black seal, and I thought it was from Talbot, so I oppen it. I did not read it when I look at the signature. I I thought it was from Talbot, so I oppen it. I did not read it when I look at the signature, expect Mr. Bullpitt here to-night with Mr. Holmes. I hope, my dear mama, that I shall see you on Saturday if it a fine day, but if it not do not come out in the wet. Mary and the little boy are doing quite well, and poor little Agnes, as has been playing with me all day, she misses her mama very much. Let me know, dear mama, if you have heard from Mr. Tucker, and when he coming hero; and I would likewise like to know what Mr. Norris says about it. I think, ray dear mama, I would not bother with them any more, as I can get the money on those terms much quicker.

Hoping soon to see you, my dear mama, I remain your affectionate son.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Wellesley Villas, Wellesley-road, 31 May, 1867.

My dear Mama, —You will think it very strange that I did not write to you yesterday But I gave Bogle and Carter leave to go and see the races, and several persons called, but the day passed away before I knew it was gone. My dear mama, Mr. Tucker called to see me last night, but did not stay long. He was saying that he was coming down on Saturday with you to have baby christene. You must member, my dear mama, that Mr. Tucker is a Protestant and canot be a sponsor. Besides, my dear mama, I find he is not so respectable as I should wish, and a mother think, my dear mama, it would be wrong to make Talbot godfather until I see him. Suppose when he came that he did not remember mo. and I know Radcliffe has been continually writting to him about me—it would be very serious, and injure my case very much. My dear mama, the cook case is settled, so do not worrat yourself about that. I hope, mama dear, you will come on Saturday to se me, although I should like to leave the christening for some time yet. There is nothing to fear, as they are both so healthy. Mr. Paigent is here, and I am so glad, as I was so lonely before. He beg to be remembered to you, my dear mama. Do not forget to let me know who that Captain Carston was. Mary and baby and little Agues are quite well, and joins me in love to you. my dear mama. I have not said anything to Mary about the christening, but I have very strong reasons for not having it done on Saturday, but which I cannot commit to paper, but which I will tell you all about when we are alone. God bless you. my dear mamma, from your affectionate son.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Dear little Agnes as just give me a kiss to send to you.

Re-examined by Mr. Giffard: I have not written to Mr. Radcliffe for years, nor received any letters from him When the plaintiff came down from Hull I went over with him to Burton Constable; a distance of about ten miles. We had some sherry and biscuits when we got there. It was dark when we went over the rooms. I took him over a great number of rooms. We went over the rooms with ordinary candles. The only room he recognised was my room. He was in the habit of going into my room in 1848. The next morning by daylight he pointed out his own room at once. The stumps of the hedge were left unsightly. They were cut in an unskilful manner. I think he was right about the theatricals. I am certain there was no one in Burton Constable who could have told him about the things I have mentioned.

The Court then adjourned till Monday.

THIRTEENTH DAY.—MONDAY, MAY 29.

TWELFTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

Mr. John Kersley Lipscombe, examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I live at New Alresford, and am by profession a surgeon and a member of he Royal College of Surgeons. I have practised at Alresford for thirty-three years, and I am one of the medical officers of the Poor-Law Board. Tichborne Park, the family seat of the Tichbornes, is within three miles of my residence. I have been acquainted with them for years, and have attended the family for years. I was acquainted with Mr. Roger C. Tichborne. I became acquainted with him on his visit to Tichborne Park, during the lifetime of Sir Edward Doughty. I saw him occasionally. I saw him in the hunting-field with the Hampshire hounds, and during his visit to the house on the occasion of Sir Edward's illness I frequently saw him, and I sometimes slept at the house.

By the Chief-Justice: I saw him twenty or thirty times altogether.

Examination resumed: On one occasion I attended Mr. R. C. Tichborne. There were two attendances, one of which I had forgotten, and the other during Sir Edward's illness, when Lady Doughty asked me to prescribe for him. On that occasion I put him to his room and got him quiet and left him. He was a heavy smoker. I saw him about August, 1852, just about the time he sold out of the army. I saw him almost daily at Tichborne House for a week. He told me that he was tired of being dressed up in fine clothes and having nothing to do, and that if the march of the regiment to India had not been countermanded he would not have sold out of the army. He said he intended to go abroad for sport. He talked about what would be the most enjoyable sport to follow, and he at last said to me one evening, " Well, I have determined to go to South America and catch wild horses, and shoot black panthers," He had got that idea from some book he had been reading. He told me he should not return as long as his father lived, as he could not get on with him. I don't remember whether I saw him again or not. I had a distinct recollection of the expression of countenance of Mr. R. Tichborne. It was impressed on my memory from several circumstances, such as his eccentric behaviour, his riding, and wild, careless manner. He had a very heavy brow, which he used to elevate in a very peculiar manner, and at times a twitching of the eyebrow. I was reminded of that when I saw the plaintiff. I attended him for a sore throat in 1852. I had forgotten that till I saw him. I first heard of his return about January, 1867. I saw Mr. Bowker about that time. He called on me one morning, and asked me if I shou'd remember Roger Tichborne, and I told him that I thought I should. He then asked me some questions about his height, the colour of his hair, and his weight. I told him that Roger Tichborne used to be an inch taller than me. I am 5ft. 8in. He said, " This man is 5ft 11in." He asked me about the colour of his hair. I said it was dark, and he said, " This man's is light." He asked about his weight, and I said 11 stone, he said, " This man is near 20 stone."

The Solicitor-General objected to the conversation with Mr. Bowker being made evidence.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that, as he he had got all that he wanted, he would not pursue the matter further. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice requested the counsel engaged in the case to confine their examinations as much as possible to the matters of fact which had not already been proved. On looking over the notes of the evidence he found that there was a vast deal of repetition.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said he had been conversing with his learned friend the Solicitor-General that morning, with the object of ta ing some means to shorten the case, and perhaps they would consult his lordship on the subject.

The Chief-Justice said he should be very glad if they did. It was to himself a matter of no importance whether he was sitting there or elsewhere, but to the jury and other persons it was a matter of the utmost consequence.

Examination resumed: I had an impression that Mr. Roger Tichborne had a mark on his arm. It was a circumstance which was impressed on my mind, because it was very badly done. I mentioned that to Mr. Bowker. I saw claimant at Alresford in the end of February, 1867. I spent about twenty minutes with him the first time I saw him. I had some conversation, and I saw a resemblance between this person and the Roger Tichborne whom I knew. I expressed no positive opinion on the subject then. I saw him on March 23, 1867, at the Swan Hotel, Alresford. I passed severalhours with him, and dined with him. He had had a sore throat—an inflamed and relaxed sore throat. At the previous interview, he had asked me if I had attended him for a sore throat. I said I did not remember, and he said, " You did; I remember you putting the nasty stuff down my throat. By Jove, I can almost taste it now." Before the second interview, and in consequence of what he told me, I examined my book and found that he was correct. I bad applied caustic to his throat. I did not remember that till he told me. (Day-book and ledger produced containing the entries.) The application of caustic and the medicines given satisfy me that he had relaxed sore throat. When I saw him in March he had a sore throat, very much like the throat which he had before. He said, " During all the time that I was in Australia I never had anything of this kind, but no sooner do I get back to this confounded climate than I get it again." That is a matter very likely to happen. I have known instances of it. I have heard that he had an accident in France. I heard merely that his head was hurt. In consequence of that I examined his head and found a cicatrix at the back of it. I heard something of an illness he had at Canterbury. I examined the ankle of the right foot. Upon the right foot, and under and a little in front of the ankle, I found the cicatrix of a wound, evidently inflicted by a cutting instrument. It might have been inflicted by a lance. It was not be who told me, because he said he did not remember it. I had no previous knowledge of it. I expected to see an impostor when I saw him first. My only impression at first was that he Was like Roger Tiehborne; but when he told me about the caustic, and I investigated that matter, I came to the conclusion that he really was Roger Tiehborne. Judging from what he told me, from the expression of his countenance, and from all the circumstances, I believe, undoubtedly, that he is the Roger Tichborne whom I knew in 1852.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: Every time I have seen him my opinion as to his identity has been strengthened. I saw him first at Alresford in February, 1867, at the Swan Hotel. I think Mr. House, the landlord of the hotel, and Mr. Baigent were present. The only communication previous to that was with Mr. Bowker. A man of the name of Huggins was my assistant thirty years ago. He was not my assistant when I attended Roger Tichborne. He was a chemist. Most if not all of my prescriptions were made up at my own house. Huggins was my assistant from 1838 to 1842. When I attended Roger Tichborne he had no connection wi'h me. I made up nearly all my prescriptions myself, but when I did employ a chemist it was Hoggins. I don't know whether Huggins was applied to before me, or whether he had been in communication with any of the parties before me. I know that Huggins has taken a great interest on the other side, and is a hot partisan of the claimant's opponents. I don't recollect his coming to me about the matter. I can't tell whether I spoke to Mr. Huggins before I saw the claimant. I was attending Sir Edward Doughty in 1851 and 1852. I was his professional attendant up to the time of his death. He lived always at Tichborne. I attended Sir Alfred and his family. The illness in 1852 was the only occasion on which I gave a strictly professional attendance on Sir Roger Tichborne.

The Solicitor-General: You state in your affidavit that you attended him for inflammatory sore throat in February, 1853.—That was a mistake as to date, which my books afterwards corrected.

The Solicitor General: Do you mean to say that it is a mistake in my copy?—I can't say.

The original copy of the affidavit having been referred to, the Solicitor-General said he was bound to admit that the mistake was in his copy.

Cross-examination continued: My book assures me that I attended him in 1852. That is the only time I ever charged for attendance. I must have seen him often. I first saw him when Sir E. Doughty came to live at Tichborne. He was not often there, and he did not spend a long time. I saw him in bed on three visits, both before and after February, 1852.

The Solicitor-General: Are you certain that you ever saw him after February, 1852?—Yes, I saw him at the end of 1852. I should say it was about September or October; or, at any rate, about the end of the year. He hunted at Tichborne in the hunting season of 1852-53. I won't swear that he did.

The Solicitor-General: Will you undertake to Pay that you saw him there in the end of 1852?— My conviction is that I did. I will swear that I saw him just before he sold out of the army. I never saw him except when he was staying at Tichborne.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to swear that it was in 1851 and not 1852 that you attended him?—I swear that is so in my book.

The Solicitor-General: Is that the only time that you attended him for a sore throat?—I believe so. I never attended him for a sore throat without charging him. I was attending Lady Doughty and the household during 1851. I swear by the entry in my bonk. I won't allow myself any independent recollection. I mean to say that the entries are correct, and they refresh and perfect my memory. I don't remember whether I showed my books to Mr. Bowker.

Do you remember whether you refused to show him the boohs?—I don't recollect speaking about the books. I will undertake to say that I did not refuse to show him the book, simply because I had no reason to do so. I should think the claimant must have been at Tichborne for a fortnight in 1852.

The Solicitor-General: Will you undertake to say that it was not before June, 1852, that you saw him at Tichborne? I will undertake to say that I had conversations with him about going abroad, and just about the time he was leaving the army, I think matters were in train for selling out, if he had not already sold out. It might have been in the end of 1852, and it is just possible it might have been in 1853. The conversation is the only means I have of fixing a date. When I saw him I noticed him for his peculiarities.

The Solicitor-General: What were his peculiarities?—One wis his riding, which was essentially his own. He was fond of riding restive horses, but he did it as a rough rider, and had not a good seat. His seat was neither a military nor a hunting seat, but something between the two. I suppose I have seen him about a dozen times in the two hunting seasons of 1851 and 1852.

The Solicitor-General: What was any other peculiarity?—He had rather a peculiar walk. He walked like his uncle, Sir Henry. He was rather in-kneed, one knee was rather turned in, and gave him a peculiar gait.

The Solicitor-General: What else?—I think I have given you enough.

The Solicitor-General: And what else did you notice?-- I think I have given you enough. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: But I am judge of that. Of course if you were judging of my symptoms you would be the judge.—If I had to examine you I would have a little compassion on you. (A laugh.)

The Solicitor-General: I will endeavour to mete out to you what you would mete out to me.

Witness: I have given you some of his peculiarities. He spoke broken English, He spoke like a man who had been brought up or educated in France.

The Solicitor-General: Was his English simply broken? Did he speak it with facilery?—He did not speak English with facility. He spoke broken English, and rather hesitated in beginning his sentences. 1 don't think I ever heard him speak French. I have talked with him in his bedroom, in his smoking-room, and in the library. In the evenings I frequently went to his room to have a chat with him.

The Solicitor-General: What did he talk about?—Generally about sports.

The Solicitor-General: Was there anything else that you observed about him?—In talking he used to elevate his eyebrows, and there was also, when he was excited a twitching of his eye. I had a clear- recollection of him. (Daguerreotype produced.) That would be something like him. It is not an excellent likeness. I never saw him with that lackadaisical manner of putting his head. The face is like. I must say it's very like. It is like, but not very like. (Photograph in frame produced.) That is a worse photograph, but it is the same likeness as the other. It is like Roger Tichborne who left in 1853.

The Solicitor-General: Is it like the present claimant?—I think I recognise the eyebrows, the eye, and the ears as being like the claimant. The photograph, as a whole, does not remind me of the present claimant. When I first saw the claimant I saw a resemblance. I was reminded of Koger Tichborne by his appearance and manner. When he spoke he elevated his eyebrows in the same manner as Roger Tichborne used to do. The shape of his forehead and heavy eyebrows also reminded me. There was nothing else to remind me of Roger Tichborne.

The Solicitor-General: Was he not as unlike as a man could be? —He had increased from eleven to nearly eighteen stone, and was very much altered. His face was broader at the lower part, and he had more whiskers. The hair of Roger Tichborne was darker than this man's. It was straight, and had no tendency to curl.

Is this man's hair thicker?—I have not examined it particularly. It depends upon the use of the scissors whether it is thick or thin, long or short.

The Solicitor-General: I did not know that the thinness of the hair depended upon the use of the scissor.—Oh, yes, it does.

The Solicitor-General: I am no judge of these matters. (Laughter.)

Cross-examination resumed: I think the claimant's hair is thicker than Roger Tichborne's. It has a tendency to curl, but is not curly. He speaks now, and did then, like a man who had been in a foreign country; but his English is not so distinctly broken as it was when I knew him before. I would describe him as a man who spoke slightly broken English. His style of speaking reminded me of the old style of speaking.

The Solicitor-General: Did you ever know whether Roger Tichborne was musical?— Witness: Yes, he used to play the French horn a little. I never heard him sing. The twitching of the eyebrows has not got worse in this man. I remember Mr. Bowker calling at my house in January, 1867. I then told him of a mark on the arm of Roger Tichborne, with " R. C. T." upon it, and I said to Mr. Bowker that Mr. Roger Tichborne told me that he had got that at school. I remember distinctly seeing some one at Tichborne having a mark on his arm, with a ship or mermaid, or some other device, over it. I said at the time that the person who did it must have been either a novice or drunk, because the initials were leaning in different ways, and the party remarked that it was done by a schoolfellow. I do not recollent telling Mr. Bowker that the initials were " R. C. T."

The Solicitor-General: Did not Mr. Bowker ask to see your book?—I don't recollect that he did.

The Solicitor-General: Did you not go to the cupboard and take several other books, and say that you could not find these particular ones, containing your accounts? — I don't remember. I have no cupboard to keep books. My medical books are piled on the table. I will undertake to say that I do not recollect that I did refuse to show them. There is an entry in the book for £3. 10s. for attending Roger Tichborne's'groom. I spoke to the claimant about this and he told me that it was not the groom, but a man who came over with his horses from Ireland. I found afterwards that this was so. He then asked me where the man was ill. I said either in the house or over the stables. He said that was not so, that he was at the gardener's cottage, and that he was only hired to bring his horses over. The account appears to have been paid at the same time, and by the fame person. I asked him his name, and he said Tom. It was not Carter, because I have known Carter since, I mean to swear that Tom was not Carter. The man who was ill was an Irishman. I believe Carter is not. He told me that he was Tom somebody, and the people in the house knew him only by the name of Tom.

The Solicitor-General: When did you next see Carter?—I don't know enough of Carter to say anything about him. I only know him by sight. I remember him living with Mr. Marks. I saw him with the claimant. I believe that his initials were on Roger Tichborne. I probably said they were on his arm

Did you tell Mr. Bowker that the initials were " R. C. T."?—I might have done so

Did you do so?—I remember telling him about the initials on the arm and I might have said that they were " R. C. T."

The Solicitor-General read the following letter addressed to Mr. Bowker by witness:—

Dear Sir,—I met to-day a man who used frequently to meet Mr. Roger Tichborne, and who knew him for a long time. Being not quite certain in my own mind whether the marks on the left arm which I mentioned were Roger Tichborne's or some other person's whom I had seen at Tichborne House, I asked him if he was aware of their presence. He told me that he had certainly not any marks when he last saw him. In these circumstances I am inclined to believe that I am mistaken on the point, and I think it best to say so, that this part of my information may not be acted upon.—I am, &c.,

J. K. LIPSCOMBE.

The Solicitor-General: Who was the valet?—Witness: A man of the name of Cole.

Where did you see him?—I met him on the road I knew he was in the Tichbornefamily, and I asked him if he had valetted Roger Tichborne, and had seen him stripped.

Who was the other person whose arm you had seen in Tichborne House? — I recollected that some arm had been marked. Some one of the family told me that if this was the real man he would be easily known, because he would have a mark on his arm, and I jumped at once to the conclusion that the mark that I had seen was on Roger Tichborne's.

What had first shaken your belief?—I think Huggins told me that the claimant was not asked, and therefore I thought I had made a mistake. I can't remember whose arm was marked. There is a mark on the claimant's arm between the elbow and the wrist. It looks like the remains of an abscess or boil that had burst and sloughed. A burn or cauterised wound would leave such a mark. There is no other means of getting rid of a tattoo mark excepting by cautery.

By the Chief-Justice: The mark I saw at Tichborne Park was on the outside of the arm.

Cross-examination continued: I saw at Alresford a mark on the plaintiff's arm. He could not account for its being there. He had forgotten how it came. This mark was on the inside part of the arm. I don't know whether Roger Tichborne had a mark there.

The Solicitor-General: Who was the first person you saw interested in the case before seeing plaintiff?—I saw Mr. Rouse and Mr. Hugging and Mr. Hopkins. I did not see Mr. Baigent till I saw the plaintiff. I saw him first about the 21st of February, and then about a month later. I was not quite satisfied on the first occasion. On the second occasion Mr. Holmes and Mr. Baigent were present. I did not see Bogle or Carter. I was then quite convinced. I think Mr. Holmes drew up my affidavit. It was either read over to me or I read it before I swore to it. I swore two affidavits if not more. The second was merely an addition to the first. I made the examination on the ankle on the day of the second affidavit. It was at the instance of Mr. Onslow and Colonel Lushington. Mr. Onslow asked me if a man who had been bled at the ankle would still retain the mark;" and I said " Yes." He said, " They say Tichborne was bled at the ankle, and I wish you would come and examine him." I examined him, and found the mark. I did not examine both ankles. There were two marks, one a cut, and the other a simple puncture. It was the right ankle that I examined. I am sure of that.

The Solicitor-General then read the following extract from witness's affidavit:—

On the 10th of April I carefully examined the foot of the above-named plaintiff, and found the mark of an incision underneath and near the ankle of his left foot. The said mark is such as would be produced by an incision made by lancing. The facts here mentioned are within my own, knowledge.

What do you pay to that?—Well, I suppose I made a mistake in saying the left instead of the right. I have seen him since, and I know that there is an incision under the right ankle. Whether there was one under the left ankle I can't say.

The Chief-Justice: Did you look at the left foot again?—No. My impression is that I examined the right.

Cross-examination continued: I don't know how it is stated " left" in the affidavit. I examined the right foot about a fortnight ago. I am sure it was the right that I saw then. The affidavit was sworn in June, 1868.

The Solicitor-General: Can you account for the left foot being mentioned?— I cannot, unless he has a mark on the left foot also. I did not notice the punctured wound till the other day.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to say that your examination was so perfunctory that you did not notice whether there was a punctured wound?—I did not notice it then. It is within an inch of the other. My impression is that if it was there I did not notice it. I can't say whether the seoond wound was there or not.

Is the appearance such that it could have been made since?—No.

Then it must have been tbere?—My impression is that it must have been there, because the wound is not recent.

What is recent?—Within three, or four, or five years.

Could you tell whether a scar was six or twenty years old?—I cannot say. That depends upon the size of the scar.

Does a bleeding scar ever disappear?—No.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to pledge your reputation that you can tell whether a scar was three years old?—If it is over three years it would be difficult to tell. Under three it would be more easy to tell whether it is recent. If it is over three the scar becomes more like a scar of ten years old. The punctured sore is some years old. My judgment is that it is over three years old; but the size of the wound, and health of the patient, and other things would require to be taken into consideration. It is not a common thing in this country to bleed in the foot. In Spain and France it is a more common thing for affections of the head. I don't know whether it is very common in Spain and the South American colonies. I made my second examination in the presence of Sir W. Ferguson, Mr. Canton, and Dr. Sutherland, about a fortnight ago.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to say tliat the sore throat which he had when you saw him was any means of identification?—That particular kind of sore throat—a relaxed and inflamed sore throat—is often hereditary. A great many people have it.

The Solicitor-General: Have you any interest in this case?—I have not the least interest, in this case. My object is simply to put the right man in the right place, and to tell the truth. I think Mr. Holmes gave me the affidavits. I lent them to a gentleman in the New Forest, and he never returned them. I wrote to Brand, who was keeper to Sir E. Doughty. He is now in Wales, I believe. I wrote to him to ask what, mark Roger Tichborne had on his arm.

The Solicitor-General: Will you say that you did not write to Mr. Brand in 1869, and to Mrs. Brand in 1870?—I wrote to him first in 1867. I have written to him since. The last time I wrote to him was at the instance of the agent, asking Brand to come to London, and saying that his expenses would he paid. If you will give me the letter, I will tell you why I wrote it. (The letter was produced and read. It requested Mr. Brand to see the plaintiff with a view to identification, and the writer stated that as in tho multitude of counsellors there was wisdom, so in the multitude of witnesses there would be certainty. The writer also asked for the address of a Mr. and Mrs. Gosford.) I wrote the letter at the suggestion of the solicitors. Mr. and Mrs. Gosford were very old friends of mine, and I thought Brand might possibly know where they lived. The claimant was anxious to seo Brand and his wife, thinking they might know him; and it was with this object the letter was written. He used to say to me in casual conversation that he would like to see them. He lived at Alresford for some time, and visited me frequently. I have had no communication with Mr. Spofforth or the solicitors about Mr. and Mrs. Gosford.

By the Chief-Justice: Brand was living in Wales at the time.

The Solicitor-General: Have you been at all concerned in a joint-stock company?—I don't know of one.

Have you lent the plaintiff money?—No, sir.

Did you not claim as a creditor in bankruptcy for £300?—Never. The only claim I made was for £25, for attending his wife and children. That is all he owed me. I saw it stated in the newspapers that I had claimed for £300, and I was never more astonished in my life. (Laughter.) I don't understand those bankrupt proceedings. They can put down what they like. (Laughter.) There is no pretence for scheduling me for £300. The proceedings in bankruptcy were stopped. What they meant I never could understand, and I took no further notice about it. I did not like it when I saw it in the paper that I was scheduled for £300. I never thought to ask the claimant why that amount had been stated.

Re-examined by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I have not received any dividend under the bankruptcy proceedings. (Laughter.) There are no means, as far as I am aware, by which Huggins could have known that I had applied caustic to the plaintiff. I am quite certain I saw some one at Tichborne House with a mark on the arm such as I have described. It was a kind of tattoo mark, upwards of two inches in diameter. The mark on the plaintiff's arm is not such iis would have been caused by any erasure of the tattoo mark. A small tattoo mark might be removed by " sloughing" the skin. I have a distinct impression that the initials were those of the person whose arm was marked. The only observation I heard was that he was marked on the arm, and I came to the conclusion that it was tattooing. There is another mark on one of his shoulders, which might have been created by the application of a seton. When I use the term " old scar" to the mark on the foot, I mean that it may have existed over three or four years. I saw a good deal of the plaintiff in 1870. Nothing took place that at all diminished my belief that he was the man. I used to go fishing with him. He is a very fair fly-fisher.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: I found the seton mark when I and Sir William Ferguson examined the plaintiff.

The Chief-Justice: What was the date of the payment of the groom's bill?—February, 1852.

The Chief-Justice: This may assist in the recovery of the missing date. There are further entries of the groom in March or April.

The Solicitor-General: Just one question. Did you ever attend Robert Tichborne?—The claimant's uncle?

The Solicitor-General: Yes,—No.

The Solicitor General: Or any other Tichborne except Roger?—Alfred.

The Chief-Justice: The entries are R. Tichborne's groom. Is there any entry of Roger's?—Yes.

The Chief-Justice suggested some medical man should examine both ankles of the plaintiff in order to ascertain if there were more marks than one.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that arrangements had already been made for that purpose, and an examination would be made in the course of the afternoon.

The Foreman wished to ask the witness whether it was Roger Tichborne who told him that the tattoo marks were made by a schoolfellow, and if not who told him?

The witness replied that he was told by a person who had the mark that it was done by a schoolfellow, but who he was he could not for the life of him remember.

The Chief-Justice then said that some person from Dublin had sent him most improperly a large packet of papers, and he had desired that they should be opened by the officers of the court. He was told that the packet contained a request that the sender might be at liberty to publish the papers. He (the Chief-Justice) should hand them over to the legal gentlemen, who might inform the writer that he had no right to send them or publish them.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said the reporters, no doubt, would take cognisance of the fact, so that there would be no need of their looking into the packet at all. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice intimated that having communicated with the Board of Works he was informed that the Queen's Gallery in the House of Lords would be placed at their disposal for the purpose of the trial.

Thomas Cole, examined by Mr. Giffard: I was groom and footman to the late Sir Henry Joseph and Lady Ann Tichborne. I was in their service for upwards of eighteen years. After the death of Sir Henry, Lady Ann removed to Grove House, Brompton, and I remained in her service as butler. I remember Mr. Roger Tichborne, and his visiting his aunt at Brompton. He stayed there (Grove House) for a considerable time, and used to come into the servants' hall to smoke his pipe after the ladies had retired to bed. I remember seeing him again at Alresford in 1867. A waiter came with a message for me to go to the Swan, and when I got there Sir Roger spoke to me before I recognised him. Ho said, " Good morning, Cole; do you recognise me?" and I replied, " Yes, sir, I do." He had the twitch of the eye, and so forth. I felt his legs to see if the knee was turned in, and then I said, " You are Roger Tichborne." He asked me if I remembered my getting him some lead to cast into bullets previous to his going out shooting. I remembered it perfectly. Then he said, " Do you recollect me going into the servants' hall at Brompton, and taking some ale out of one of the old Tichborne horns, and your remaining with me whilst I smoked my pipe?" That was the fact. I am sure I never told him anything about this first. There was no suggestion from me. Lady Ann, I remember, asked me if I had a room in the house where Mr. Roger could smoke his pipe instead of going into the garden. I remember his preferring to drink beer out of a horn to a glass. I identified him also by the colour of his hair, which was dark brown. I have not conversed with him since my affidavit was signed, about four years ago. I have not the least doubt that he is the Mr. Roger Tichborne I knew at Lady Ann's. I never saw any tattoo mark on his arm. If there had been I should have seen it, most likely.

Cross-examined by Mr. Hawkins: I have seen his arms stripped. I will swear there was no mark to my recollection. There was nothing that I could swear to.

By the Chief-Justice: I swear positively there was no mark of any sort on either of his arms.

Cross-examination continued: There was neither a tattoo nor any other mark or scar. I did not see him stripped to the shoulder. My attention was never called to his ankle. Young Roger's hair was darker, if anything, than the plaintiff's. It never curled at all It is four years since I saw the plaintiff with his hat off. It did not curl then. The blinking of the eye was apparent in 1867. You could not be in his company a minute without discovering it. He winked constantly unlike other people. I knew him only by the hair, and the twitch, so far as the face was concerned. I never saw young Roger's leg stripped to the knee. I remember feeling his leg when at Brompton in 1848. The left knee was rather larger than the right. Anybody must have observed it. I did not mention the knee to anyone before I signed the affidavit, and I have not mentioned it at all till to-day. I have been asked to name any peculiarities there might be about Sir Roger, but I did not state anything about the knee. I may have forgotten it, but I cannot say that I did. The striking peculiarity was not in the size but in the bend of the knee.

Mr. Hawkins here read the fifth paragraph of the witness's affidavit, which stated that he recognised the plaintiff distinctly from his features, the movement of his eyebrows, and the turning in of the right knee.

Cross-examination continued: It was the left knee that turned in. It may be a mistake in the preparation of the affidavit if it is stated that I swore to its being the right knee. My affidavit was prepared within a week of my examining the knee, and was sworn to about a week after that. I did not read the affidavit before I signed it. It was read to me by Mr. Adams, and I understood every word of it thoroughly. It is four years ago, but in what month I cannot say. (The affidavit was sworn on the lst July.)

By the Chief-Justice: My first interview with the plaintiff was about a fortnight previously.

Mr. Hawkins read another portion of the affidavit, as follows: " I had not seen Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne from the end of 1852 till the 23rd of February, 1867 " To the witness: Now, which is correct?—I did not see him until a fortnight before my affidavit was made.

The Chief-Justice advised the witness to be careful in his answers. First he had sworn it was the left knee that turned in, whereas in his affidavit it was stated to be the right knee; and then he had deposed to the first interview in June, whereas it was said to be February in the document sworn to.—The witness said that he answered to the best of his recollection.

The Chief-Justice: How is it that you say nothing about the knee in your affidavit! Will you read it to him, Mr. Hawkins?

Mr. Hawkins then read the witness's affidavit and said: How was it that you swore to your affidavit without mentioning the peculiarity of the knee?—I cannot account for it.

Do you recognise in this photograph (produced) any likeness of Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne who went abroad in 1853?—I do not. I have no recollection of the portrait. I don't see a likeness in any part.

Now take the one in the frame (Lady Tichborne's copy)—what do you say to that ?—I am a very poor judge of portraits.

Is that like the young man you knew in 1853?—I cannot say from the portrait.

Just look at this (photograph E). Can you say who that is like?—This one more resembles Mr. Roger. It is very like the present claimant.

Here is another. Do you recognise in this the likeness of anybody?—I do not.

The Chief-Justice: Which of the four is the most like the Roger Tichborne of 1852?—I cannot say that I recognise any of them.

Just take the one marked E.

The Chief-Justioe: It is hardly worth while after his last answer.

Cross-examination continued: I was servant in the Tichborne family for 18 years.

Mr. Hawkins: You say in your affidavit,

I was groom, footman, and butler to the late Sir Henry Joseph Tichbome and Lady Ann Tichborne, at Tichborne Park House, for 18 years. Previously to that I was in the serviee of Mr. John Bennett, the son-in-law of Sir Roger, i was with him when he died in Madeira, and accompanied his body to England.

Now, were you ever in the service of Sir Henry Joseph Tichborne at all? —Yes.

Mr. Hawkins: When?—I went there as a boy.

Mr. Hawkins: Were you not discharged from Mr. Bennett's in 1849.—Yes.

Mr. Hawkins: How long had you been there?—About six years. I then went into service with Captain Evans, and remained there two years. I then went to be a waiter at Howchin's Hotel. To the best of my recollection I stayed there twelve months.

Mr. Hawkins: That would bring you to 1852. In what part of the year did you leave the hotel?—The winter, I think.

Mr. Hawkins: Will you swear that in 1852 Lady Ann Tichborne was living at Brompton at all?—I will not.

Mr. Hawkins: Now listen to your affidavit:—

Sir Henry died in 1845, and Lady Ann took up her residence at Grove House, Old Brompton. I left her service about the end of the year 1852 or the earlier part of the year 1853.

Is that true?—No; that is not correct.

Mr. Hawkins: Now did you ever go into the service of Lady Ann Tichborne at all after you left Mrs. Bennett's!—No; I accompanied her with her mamma at Brompton.

Mr. Hawkins: But you told us she discharged you in 1849, and your affidavit speaks of 1852 or 1858.—There is a mistake somewhere.

Mr. Hawkins: Will you swear that Roger Tichborne slept in the house at Brompton in 1848?—I can swear that I gave him a candle to light him to bed, but I cannot say in which room he slept.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you wait upon him there?—Yes, I was his valet, but I do not recollect the room he slept in.

Mr. Hawkins: Do you seriously mean that?—I do.

Mr. Hawkins: Why, he was there for six weeks at a time, you say. Will you pledge your oath he ever slept there at all?—Well, he must have done, because he went to bed at night.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you see a bed-room said to have been occupied by him?— Yes; it was a room on the second floor, but I do not recollect in which part of the house it was.

Mr. Hawkins: Will you swear that in 1852 or the early part of 1853 Roger Tichborne was there at all?—I did not see him at that time; I saw him there some time in 1848.

Mr. Hawkins: You swear in your affidavit that you remember his visiting his aunt particularly, just before your leaving her service in 1852 or 1853, when he stayed for two months. Do you remember seeing him then?—I did not see him at Grove House after 1848. I left, I believe, in 1849.

Mr. Hawkins: Will you swear that you saw him at Grove House during 1848?—I will; but I cannot say what period of the year it was.

Mr. Hawkins: Do you remember his ever riding a pony in Tichborne Park?—No.

Mr. Hawkins: Why, in your affidavit you atate, " I remember Mr. Tichborne when at Tichborne as a youth riding a pony about the park." How can you account for that?—It cannot be so stated in my affidavit.

Mr. Hawkins: But here it is. and you have sworn it.

The Chief-Justice: There is hardly a paragraph in his affidavit which witness has not contradicted in his evidence. If so it is only fair to the witness that we should have the draft copy of it.

The Solicitor-General: I call upon Mr. Baigent to produce any affidavit he may have.

Mr. Giffard: He has none.

Mr. Hawkins: Is it true that Roger Tichborne was there in 1852 or 1833?—I cannot say. He was there in 1848. I cannot remember the time of the year, whether it was before or after Midsummer.

Mr. Hawkins: Why do you fix on 1848?—Because it was shortly before my leaving.

Mr. Hawkins: Did you leave in 1818 or 1819?—I do not remember the date; it was in 1849.

Mr. Hawkins: Will you swear that in 1818 or 1849 you saw Roger Tichborne at Grove House?—I will; but I cannot tell the time. I never saw him after 1848 or 1849 till 1867. I recollect seeing him at Tichborne House. I remember several things happening there. I remember about the bullets. I never saw him riding. I never saw him from 1852 to 1867, till I saw liim at the Swan. The waiter fetched me. Neither Mr. Baigent nor Mr. Holmes had come to me. I was living three miles from Alresford. Plaintiff did not send to my house, I went to A'lresford on some business of my own. The claimant saw me from the house, and told Mr. Lipscombe he recognised me. As I was going in I saw Mr. Lipscombe. I saw several gentlemen there. Mr. Baigent and Mr. Holmes, and two more were there. The others were not people living in the neighbourhood- Mr. Lovel told me what room to go into. After I got in Sir Roger asked how I was, and how my mother and father were. I did not recognise him in a moment, and I said, " You have the advantage of me, sir, I don't recollect you." I had not then recognised him. I asked him whether he remembered my casting bullets for him, and he said, " Perfectly." I don't know how it got into the affidavit about Roger's riding a pony about Tichborne Park.

Mr. Hawkins: Did it not strike you that it was utterly untrue?—I don't know that I thought anything about it.

Mr. Hawkins: But when the paragraph was read over to you you must have known it was false?—I don't recollect mentioning anything of the kind.

Mr Hawkins: That is not an answer to my question. Was not your statement untrue?—It must have been so.

Mr. Hawkins: And yet you swore in your affidavit, " The statements therein contained were within my own knowledge."

Re-examined by Mr. Giffiird: Mr. Bennett married a Miss Emily Tichborne, and I remained with him till his death. I came back with his body to England, and remained in Mrs. Bennett's service for four or five years afterwards, at the Grove House, when she lived with Lady Ann Tichborne. Whatever the date was, I am certain that Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne visited there for several weeks at a time. I remember his trying to get out at night and his aunt interfering. She asked me for a room in which he could smoke, because she did not wish him to go out at night. I have not troubled my bead about the affidavit since I signed it, and have no motive or Interest in this transaction except speaking the truth.

It being now four o'clock, the usual hour of adjournment,

The Chief-Justice said that, looking to the probable length of the trial, he desired to know whether it was the wish of the learned counsel or the jury to sit later each day. At the present rate he thought it would be extended to the long vacation.

The Solicitor-O-eneral said that it was a very important trial, but at the present hour (four o'clock) he felt he could not proceed any further.

The Chief-Justice said that no one was complaining about the length of the trial, but the convenience of the jury had to be considered.

The Foreman intimated that, the jury would rather vise at four o'clock than sit till five; the hour was of the greatest importance to them. They wished to know when the plaintiff himself was likely to be examined.

The Chief-Justice said it was highly important they should know that; but he could not give them any answer at present.

The Solicitor-General said that the plaintiff no doubt would appear some time; and, after his cross-examination, the examination of the other witnesses might be much shortened, he should say.

Mr. Giffard paid it was a point under discussion between himself and his learned friends, and he hoped to be able to speak definitely upon it on the following day.

The Foreman: We cannot help saying that we think it will be the turning point of the case.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

FOURTEENTH DAY. — TUESDAY, MAY 30.

THIRTEENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

Before the commencement of the proceedings, the Foreman of the Jury rose, and addressing the learned Judge said, that since the adjournment yesterday the jury had met, and discuBsed the state of the case. He trusted that the Court would feel that there had been no want of patience and attention to the case, and he was quite sure that that patience and attention would be continued to the end; but they could not help adverting to what appeared to them the grave waste of time which had oocurred in the cross-examination of the last witness; and they asked his lordship if they were not entitled now, at this advanced stage of the case, to call upon the counsel for the plaintiff to fulfil his promise, and place the plaintiff and another important witness, named Bogle, at the earliest possible period, in the witness-box. They could not help believing that, if that course had been pursued before, the case would have boen materially shortened.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine thanked the jury on behalf of himself, and he hoped he might say of his learned friend the Solicitor-General, for the extreme patience and attention which they had exhibited throughout this trial, and said that at the time the jury were considering this matter yesterday he was in communication with the plaintiff's solicitors, and they had determined to call the plaintiff after another witness had been examined.

The Chief-Justice expressed his admiration and entire approbation of the manner In which the jury had performed their duties, and quite agreed that their interposition was not uncalled for.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that he would have called the claimant first if he had been in court.

Mr. Francis J. P. Marx, of Arlebury House, near Alresford, Hampshire, examined by Mr. Serjeant-Ballautiiie: I am a justice of the peace for the county and major of volunteers. I recollect seeing Iloger Tichborne when he stayed at Tichborne House. I remember him well in the hunting seasons of 1851 and 1852. I only saw him a few times before he joined the Carabineers. I have a distinct recollection of his appearance, manner, and demeanour. Before his departure fc r abroad I had two serious conversations about his going away. He said that he was not comfortable at homo, and that he should not return until his father died. Ho said ho was going to cross South America. I have seen him since his return. He caine to my house in June or July, 1867. My wife and my sister were present. I said, " Allow me to introduce you to my pister;" he replied, " I think I met another sister of yours." I asked him what her name was. He said he could not recollect. He had met a sister of mine. The lady I introduced him to was my sister-in-law. I did not recognise him at first. I watched him closely for twenty minutes. I thought his face was familiar to me. I had a conversation with him. I asked him to give me a few Spanish words, and he did so. I then tried him with a few French sentences, and he gave them. I asked about some trifling matters in French, and he understood me. I understood him to say that in hunting lie fell on his " toe nails," but on questioning him I found he meant his two knees. He told me that once he went up an almost impracticable hill, and lost his liorse. He gave a good description of the occurrence. He was quite familiar with points on which I questioned him. I have no doubt about his identity.

Cross-examined by the Solicitor-General: Roger Tichborne was at Ticliborne in the beginning of 1853, previous to his going abroad I recognised the same melancholy expression in claimant as I used to see in Tiehborne. The manners of Roger Tiehborne were very good. I endeavoured to shake hands first with the plaintiff when he entered, but he passed by me and shook hands with the ladies. I should call his manner that of a gentleman. His language was not that of society.

The Solicitor- General: Did his manners come down from the Conquest?—I should say they came from Paris, at any rate. (Laughter.) He spoke EuglLh with a foreign accent. For instance, he pronounced liver as if it were livère. The English of the claimant was the English of Australia. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: I don't know about the English of Australia; was it the English of the East End of London?—Well, I don't know more of the East End of London than you do of Australia. It was very bad and vulgar English.

The Solicitor-General: We may do our Oriental friends injustice, but was if Wapping English?—It was bad and vulgar English; but still the accentuation reminded me of Roger Tichborne, and of a Frenchman speaking English. I got up a few words of Spanish to test him, and he knew it better than I did. His pronunciation of the few French sentences I gave him was very good. The sentences were very simple. I did not attach great weight to it, because it might have been got up.

Re-examined by Mr. Serj eant Ballantine: I have heard of Wapping. His demeanour was not such as I should expect of a person from that neighbourhood.

The Claimant

Was then called and examined by Mr. Gifiard: My name is Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne. My age is 42. The first time that I have any distinct remembrance I was living in Paris. I remember that we lived in the Rue de Ferme.

The Cuief-Justice: Is it du or de?—It is Rue de Ferme.

Give me each word?—The first word is Rue.

What is the second?—De Ferme.

But that is two words. (Claimant spelling it): " D-e."

The Chief-Justice: And the last?—Ferme. The first thing that I remember is my sister's death That was my sister Alice. I remember my mother was ill afterwards. My brother Alfred.was at that time a few weeks old. The difference in point of age between uie and Alfred was about nine or ten years. I don't remember where we went to after leaving the Rue de Ferme. A man of the name of Chatillon was entrusted with my education. He was my tutor. He used to come to our house. I also went out with him. He used to bring out a little boy sometimes with us. We were living in two or three different pi aces when Chatillon was with us. One of them was Rue de Pyramids. [The last word was pronounced in a low tone by the witness, and. as far as could be heard, as if it were spelt " Perramie."]

The Chief-Justice: I cannot hear it so as to put it down in my notes. It is quite clear that the claimant can raise his voice, because I can hear the commencement of his sentences. If you want me to hear your evidence you will pronounce more clearly. I will pronounce it five hundred times if you wish. It was the Rue de Pyramids.

The Chief-Justice: Can you spell it? I don't know that I can't spell it, but I would prefer not to do it. I might make a mistake, and I don't wish to be laughed at.

Claimant here called for a glass of water, and his counsel requested that as he would be a long time in the box he might have a seat. The Claimant himself stated, however, that he would prefer to stand as long as he could.

The Chief-Justice: You need not stand longer than is convenient.

Examination resumed: I remember that when out with Chatillon we used to amuse ourselves in various ways. We principally walked about. My father and mother did not keep very much company. I was between nine and ten when Chatiilon first came to teach me. He continued to teach me until about 1845. He never paid any strict attention to hours. I mean to say that I did not like him, and he did not like me, and we agreed very well upon that point. We used to go to the Boulevards and the Tuileries.

The Chief-Justice said he could not hear Claimant.

Mr. Giffard: You have a little difficulty about your teeth ?

Witness: Unfortunately I have lost some of my teeth.

Examination resumed: I learned nothing in France except what I learned from Chat.illon. I remember taking a trip with my father and mother to the south of France We went by post-horses and carriage. It was my father's own carriage. We went to Pan, in the Pyrenees. When we got there my father crossed the mountains into Spain, and we remained there until he returned. We came back to Paris by the same means of conveyance. I would be about twelve to thirteen years of age then. I don't remember going on any other trip with my mother. I went with my father into Brittany. The party consisted of my father, my tub r, and myself. I remember going to a place called Ponic. I had a fall during that journey. I was climbing up some walls, and a piece of the wall gave way, and I fell on my head. I received a cut at the back of the head. From its situation I can't see whether the mark is there still, but I can feel it. I can't remember, at this distance, the circumstances in which we were on the walls. We had been bathing at the lake. I remember what my tutor was doing at the time. He was rinsing his drawers out. I think we were three or four days on the trip into Brittany. I remember meeting relatives of my mother several times in France. They were my cousins. Their names were Bremont. Their father was Baron Bremont. The Christian names of my cousins were Charles and Edgar (pronounced Hedgar: the witness repeatedly misplaced the aspirate in the same way). I have seen them frequently, but I cannot say that they were exactly companions. There were also two sisters in the baron's family, and there were three cousins belonging to another branch of the family. The baron had a house in Paris and also at Rheims. I think I went there once, but I don't remember it distinctly. The names of the sisters were Lucie and Mary. Charles Bremont had a red mark on the side of his face. There was a story in the family as to how that had been caused. I used to go to a dancing academy in Paris. I was taken there first by the nurse. Her name was Margaret. I remember having seen Talbot Constable in Paris. He was not always there, but used to come in the summer months. I was more intimate with him than with any one else that I knew as a boy. He usually went to the Madeleine Church. I remember Mr. Hopkin's coming to Paris on one occasion. It must have been 1841 or 1842. It was some years before I left. My mother was rather angry with him for coming. I came to England in 1845. I had been in England on several occasions before, but I came over finally then. After that I never lived with my father and mother except two or three days. Chatillon went to England with me on ono occasion. We went to Tichborne. That was about two years before I finally left. I have heard that I was at Upton when a child, but I have no recollection of it. There was some discussion before I came to England in 1845 between my father and mother. My mathor objected to my coming to England.

Mr. Giffard: Do you remember how her objection was overcome?—I came over to attend my uncle's funeral—that is, Sir Henry Tichborne's—and they would not let me go back again. My father sent me then to Stonyhurst. Most of my uncle's daughters were at the funeral—at least those that were alive. I saw my uncle Robert there. I don't remember Mrs. Tichborne being there. I remember Mrs. Townley and Mrs. Greenwood being there; she was not Mrs. Greenwood then. I stayed from four to five days on that occasion. I went from there to Stonyhurst. I had a small seton on my shoulder about that time. It waB dressed with ivy-leaf principally. Father Brindle, I think, went with me to Stonyhurst. He was the priest at Poole. My father remained at Upton. I lived at Stonyhurst in a cottage on the left, outside the college.

The Chief-Justice: I can't hear.

Claimant: There are a few cottages at the end of the college as you enter on the left. I remained at Stonyhurst not quite three years. I always left Stonyhurst at holiday time. I went mostly to Tichborne, but I went on one occasion to Burton Constable. I stayed there from five to six weeks. I remember many things that happened there. I remember the private theatricals at Burton Constable. They were held at the bottom of the long room, which is, I think, also called the library. I remember about the hedge. This part of Burton Constable was considered to be Talbot's farm, a little piece set off for himself. He said ho was going to remove the hedge. I said, " You had better allow me to cut it down," and I set to work and did it. I remember Lambert, the horse dealer. Talbot asked me to buy a black mare from him, and I went over to his place and brought it back.

Mr. Giffard: Was there anything remarkable about the dealing for the mare? We had a few glasses of drink over tho purchase.

Mr. Giffard: Had they any effect on either of you?—They had some effect on me, and more on him. I mean by him Lambert. I remember a person of the namo of White.

Mr. Giffard: Do you remember a circumstance connected with one White?—I remember being at a place belonging to a man named Nicholson, between Holland Burton Constable. There were some foreign horsos which had come over, piebald and skewbald, and we bad gone over to look at them. I do not remember the circumstance of the horse kicking.

Mr. Giffard: Do you remember anything happening at Burton Constable when the butler was absent?—No; I am not aware that he was absent.

Mr. Giffard: He might not have been able to attend to his duties.—The butler was drank, and, as there was no wine on the table, I got up and helped myself. I brought the decanter over to where we were sitting, but I have no doubt I helped others beforo I helped myself. With reference to the horses at Nicholson's, I remember that I said that some of the horses wero dyed—I don't mean painted all over, but several parts of them were painted, to make them appear more regular. I recollect going to Preston several times. I remember my brother Alfred having a grey pony. Mr. Seymour gave it to him. He was my grandfather, but we never called him anything but Mr. Seymour. I recollect going to Wardonr Castle on several occasions. We went from Knowle to the castle. On one occasion I remained at the castle a few days. We used to go from Kuowle to Wardonr Chapel. The distance is from four to five miles. I remember Lord Arundel.

Mr. Giffard: Do you remember anything about Lis musical tastes?—He played the trumpet. I learned to play the trumpet myself afterwards. I remember Everard. He is a clerk in holy orders. He was a student at college. I remember my uncle Robert. I visited him several times at B itli, both when I was at Stonyhurst and afterwards. On one occasion I remember meet ng Mr. Biddulph there—not at my uncle's house, but at the hotel. We afterwards went to my uncle's. We were staying at the hotel because we had not sufficient room. His house was small. I have had several conversations with Mr. Biddulph. I remember the incident of pipes. It would puzzle me to tell where I got the pipes. I suppose I bought them at some tobacconist's or cigar shop, but I don't remember where. I smoked them for some time, but I couldn't tell what became of them. They were not meerschaum. They were a kind of composition clay—and a skull's head. They were of no value, and were not worth more than 2d. each, or something of the kind. I remember what horse my uncle used to ride. He did not confine himself to one, but " Cock Robin " was the name of his favourite horse. The Christian name of my uncle Robert's wife was Rebecca. She was very fund of ladies' work, aud was clever at wool-work. While at Stonyhurst I used to speak English. That was by order-—that is to say, ifc was by orders I received. I was called a nickname which very much annoyed me, but which I decline to repeat.

Mr. Giffard: I don't moan that. Did they call you somothing with reference to yonr speech?—They used to call me " Frenchie." I remember the names of sorue of the fathers who used to teach me. Thore was Father Seed.

The Chief-Justice here said he could nut hear claimant, and must make some different arrangement, as it was torture to strain the ear to hear him.

The Claimant was then removed to a seat in front of the bench.

Examination resumed: There was a Father Mann. There were two Father Coopers. I can remember others at different times, but I can't remember them juet now. I recollect Father Walmsley, who was our president I learned drawing, but very imperfectly. I don't remember who taught me, but he came from Preston. There were different sets iu the college. There were the philosophers in one set, and the laity in the other.

Mr. Giffard: Were you a diligent student?—Well, I think I was an idle one. (A laugh.)

Mr. Giffard: Do you recollect any incidents that occurred?—It's not very pleasant to remember these things before a large court.

Mr. Giffard: Do you remember fishing?—Yes. I believe there was leave granted to the college to fish in certain parts of the water, but I am not quite certain. I inow we used to go. We used to fish with a fly.

At this point the Solicitor-General interposed, and said that he could not hear the claimant, which it was important he should do in this case; nor could some of his learned friends associated with him in the case.

A Juryman suggested that some one might repeat the answers as they were given.

The Solicitor-General said it was of the utmost importance that he. should hear them as they were given by the claimant.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that the chest of tho claimant -was so had that he would not he able to speak louder to-day. He suggested that a sounding-board should be erected behind the witness-box.

The Claimant: I scarcely felt in a condition to give evidence when Mr. Spofforth told me that I should he called, but I did not decline.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that after the intimation of the jury yesterday, he was determined that there should he no delay.

The Claimant was then accommodated with the seat of the Judge Advocate, and was thus placed half-way between the counsel and the jury, and right in front of the judge.

Examination resumed: From the time I left Paris I did not reside permanently with my father and mother, bat paid them visits occasionally. I stayed mostly at the house of Mr. Henry Seymour, in Grosvenor-street, after I left Stonyhurst. I think I was there more than two months. I romember paying a visit to Lady Ann Tiehborne at a house at Brompton. The house was called " The Grove," if I remember rightly. I was thoro but a very short time—about ten days or a fortnight, I think. This was about 1848. I remember that I used to go into the servants' hall of an evening to smoke. I used to sit with Coles, the butler; but I can't say whether he smoked or not. I can't say why I went there to smoke. When at Tichborno I did not try to improve my education, but employed myself generally in fishing, smoking, and shooting. I went into the army in October, 1849. My appointment was in July. I went to an examination at Sandhurst before 1 joined. I studiod for my examination in Grosvenor-street. I used to go to a professor. Colonel Georgo Greenwood helped me when at Tiehborne, and he went to Sandhurst with me. I obtained a certificate, but I have not the slightest idea what has become of it. (A copy of the register was handed in.)

The Solicitor-General maintained that the entry in the register itself must be produced. He objected to the paper handed in as not being a copy.

The Chief-Justice said that in military matters a copy was often allowed to be given as evidence of what appeared in the register. The paper produced did not purpoit to be a copy.

Mr. Giffard urged that as it was a certified copy it ought to be accepted.

The Chief- Justice said that the paper merely stated there was a certain entry in the books at Sandhurst.

The Solicitor-General said he should not object to a copy being put in at a proper time.

Mr, Serjeant Ballantine: Then we must endeavour to procure a copy. It will be merely a question of time. At present we do not ask for the paper to be read.

Examination continued: I returned to Tichborne from Grosvenor-street before I went to Sandhurst. I met a Mr. Baigent whilst at Tichborne. I was intimate with him. He was the son of a professor of drawing at Winchester College. His father taught my cousin to. draw, and he was well known to the family. I used to draw a little myself—just heads, basts, or the like. I cannot tell that I used to talk to Baigent about family matters. No doubt I did, but I cannot remember it now. I do not recollect anything being painted by Baigent in a book. I remember Miss Brain, who has been called as a witness. I met her at Lady Tichborne's. I used to see her at Tichborne, generally in the green room. The room was known by that name. It was used generally as Bliss Doughty's sitting-room. I remember Bliss Doughty riding both a bay and a grey horse. I think I only saw Miss Brain during one of her visits, in 1850. She came there when I attained my majority. I was at that time in the army, and had just run over on colonel's leave. X joined the ariny in October, 1849. I took a servant with me to Dublin. I think his name was Muston. He remained with me for about two yoars and a half. He was with me some time before I joined the regiment as my private servant. I began to drill at Poj-tobello. I have not been in Ireland since my return to this country in 1866. The money for my commission was lent me by my mother. It was out of her private purse, and she took a charge on the Doughty estate for it. I was drilled by different sergeants at Portobello. 1 remember the names of most of them, I think. Sergeant Kearns was in the riding school. " Sandy " Kearns is the one I am speaking of. There were ihree Kearns— brothers—in the riding-school at the time. There were other sergeants for foot drill. I cannot at this moment remember their names. I was a good deal at riding drill. 1 used to visit several places when in Dublin, amongst them Howth Castle. I did not go there very often, but perhaps twice or thrice. I used to go to Meath also; I went there with one of the officers, Mr. M'Evoy, and I remember meeting two Lidies named French. M'Evoy was a captain in the Carabineers. I think I rode on two occasions to Howth, and went by boat on the other. I remember that the boat capsized just before I landed. I stayed at Portobello Barracks, on the first occasion, about seven months, I believe, but I am not certain to a month or so. My rooms were on the right-hand side of the barracks—over the stables, I think; but I will not swear to it, as they might have been over some offices. I went with the regiment to Caliir. I was taken ill on the way there, and I thought it was cholera. I had eaten a great quantity of pudding that day before we started, and the officers said it was that. (Laughter.) They did not treat my illness as serious. I remember whilst there being visited by my father. He wan accompanied only by his valet, William. I don't remember his other name. It was Burdon, I think. My father remained for three or four days. He had an object in coining. Surely I need not state it. Well, he wished to get my consent to sell Upton. We did not agree as to that. Mr. Hopkins, of Alresford, afterwards visited me, and stayed for three or four days. I did not agree with him as to the sale. These interviews took place in 1851, after I was twenty-one. I cannot tell what interval elapsed between the two visits. It might not be over six months. I got my lieutenancy when in Cahir. I was attached to the " Ah" troop, or A as you call it.

The Chief-Justice: Do you mean the letter A?—I mean the first letter of the alphabet, my lord.

Examination continued: I obtained a lieutenancy in the G troop under Captain Morton, who is doad I remember that he rode a chestnut horse, which was hollow or roach-backed.

Mr. Giffard: What is meant by a roach-backed horse?—I will draw you a picture of it. (Taking a pen and paper.)

The Chief-Justice: I see—you mean that it was hollow between the withers, and rising towards the tail.—Yes, my lord.

Examination continued: I knew Captain Morton very well, and became acquainted with his father and brother, ilis father was a clergyman, and resided at Little Island, Clonmel. He had two sons and, I think, four daughters. I know that I saw three of the daughters on several occasions. The Captain's brother was Villiers Motion. I think two of the daughters were married before I knew them. One of them, I believe, was Mrs. Kellatt. Her husband was known as " Dick Kellatt." Mr. Morton, the father, was very fond of arguing about religion. I did not tell what my religion was. He was a Protestant clergyman, and a very bigoted one, too. I knew Captain Vankey also. He was a cousin, or something of that, to Captain Morton. Whether he was cousin to Mr. Kellatt I cannot say, but I know that he was connected with the family in some way. I used to go to their place at Feathers, near Clonmel.

Mr. Giffard: Spell it, please.—I think it was " F-e-t-h-e-r-s."

The Chief-Justice: It is spelt in the ordinary way.

Examination continued: I remember buying a horse or a charger of Colonel Jones. When I left England it was Bent to the care of Mr. Gosford, my father's steward. I remember telling him that he was not to part with the horse unless I did not return in seven years. I think I was at Cahir from five to six months. My rooms in the barracks wore on the ground floor to the right. When at Clonmel I was away on duty at Waterford for a month. Captain Polhill was on leave to be married, and as I was senior lieutenant I had to take charge of the troop in his absence. After I resigned the troop was handed over to the late Adjutant Biggerstaff. I remember the regiment being inspected by a one-armed officer, General Napier. Captain Polhill forgot his word of command, and could not draw the cavalry out. I happened to see it, and drew the troops out, and Captain Polhill was reprimanded afterwards- The troops were against the barrack-wall, and Captain Polhill could not draw them out. I gave the word of command myself, and drew them out. but whether I ought to have given it first to the captain I cannot say. Captain Polhill was not pleased with rae after this transaction. Shortly after I went into the G troop. I had the charge of the troop at Waterford for about a month. I don't remember visiting Lady Barron when at AVaterford. After the duty at Waterford was over I returned to my troop at Clonmel, aud there I remnino I for about six weeks or two months. The headquarters were removed from Cahir to Ballincollig, but I never went there. From Clonmel I went with the regiment back again to Dublin. AVe were ordered for India. I remained in the regiment for about two months after the order was given. I remember tho preparations that were made for India. The horses were dis tributed to other regiments; tho cast horses were sold; the uniform was changed from scarlet to blue; and I remember that wo were kept for some time with regimentals half blue and half scarlet. The regiment was also changed from heavy to light; but we were allowed to wear our helmets. Prom Dublin the regiment passed over to Herno Bay in the steamer called tho Duke of something—Cornwall I think it was. I remember that the baggage, which had been placed round tho funnel, caught fire on the voyage. The ammunition was there; and we had a very narrow escape. From Home Bay we walked—or rather marched— to Canterbury, and I found it rather a difficult matter, not being a very good walker. I remember that tho band of the 17th Lancers met us on the way. At Canterbury the regiment went into infantry barracks, as we had no horses. The Lancers were in the cavalry barracks at the time, but they left a few days afterwards, and we took possession of them. I was staying at an hotel—the Eose I think it was—before we went to the cavalry barracks. Captain Therston stayed at the Fountain Hotel, I believe. I had leave of absence for about three months. I think the regiment reached Canterbury in June. I remained with it till the February following, but in the mean time I had leave on several occasions. At one time I was away for three months. I had leave for the purpose of selling out. A day or two after the regiment arrived at Canterbury the order for India was countermanded. I had intended to go with the regiment, but when I found that it was not going abroad I wished to sell out. When I had the leave of absence for throe months I went to Upton, Dorsetshire. I cannot remember what I did every day whilst there, but I used to shoot a good deal. I think I went to Upton about October. There would be shooting then. I used to ride and drive about a good deal. The two men Moore and Carter lived with me there. There were several others employed about the place, but I cannot remember their names. I drove to Poole. I kuew nobody there hut tradesmen. There was my tailor and bootmaker. I used to go into an ironmonger's shop, and have a talk, and I bought what tools I wanted there. I cannot remember their names, although I have spoken to one of them lately. I was not very much in Poole. There was an island in Poole Harbour—a famous place for pigeons—and I used to go to shoot thorn. The fisherman Gould bought a boat for me to get there. I remember the shape of the boat very well, and knew the model the moment Gould showed it to me. Nobody pointed out to me which model to choose. I picked it out from memory. I recollect the incident about the tarring of the boat. We had the boat up to the house, and tarred her under the shed. I cannot remember anything that occurred before she was tarred. I went to Brighton during my leave of absence, but am not certain whether or not I went to Goodwood. I was at Brighton for about three days, I think. I remember an incident occurring that gave rise to a correspondence between me and my mother. I lost some money there by playing cards with strangers. I think it was about £1,500 that I lost, and I had some difficulty in paying that sum. It was not all paid. About £500 was paid. My mother got me the money, and made mo promise that I would never play at cards again. I think the matter was hushed up as muclx as possible. The people with whom I played were named—two of them Broom, another was Bobin, and another Eccleston, or some such name, and he (Eccleston) lived, I think, in St. Martin's-lane. I was the worse for liquor, I think, when they met me at the Bedford Hotel. I cannot say whether any of the servants knew of the transaction, but I believe it was a thing generally known in my own circle. When at Canterbury I was seized with illness. It was before I bad the three months' leave, and whilst I was at the barracks. I know it came on very suddenly, and that is all I kuew of it at first. I was in bed for a fortnight or three weeks, and was weak and poorly for some time afterwards. I bad no remembrance of being bled in the ankle till M'Cann reminded me of it. I don't think I knew anything about it at the time. Of course I knew of it afterwards. I have marks on both ankles. M'Cann told me on my return that nothing could be easier forme to prove mv identity than that, because, if I was Sir Boger Tichborne, I should have the mark oif where I was bled at Canterbury. I said to him, " Do you mean the mark of where I was bled at Canterbury?" He said " Yes;" and I observed, " The .mark must be there now, thenand I offered to let him look for it, but he declined. M'Cann saw it a fortnight before he came to give evidence. It was not until then I knew the mark was on my right foot. It was much plainer on my left. I remember visiting Captain and Mrs. Sherston when with the regiment at Canterbury. I knew them very well, hut not to say intimately. I was in London several times when I had leave of absence at Canterbury. I went to Mr. Thompson's lodgings, and thero Mr. Gosford came to see me. I had the lodgings during the time the regiment was at Canterbury. I remember seeing the Duke of Wellington's funeral. I saw it from Andrews's, tho military accoutrement maker in Pall Mall. I wont to Andrews's on the first occasion before I proceeded to Ireland, and got my accoutrements from him. To the best of my recollection Colonel George Greenwood introduced me.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

FIFTEENTH DAY.—WEDNESDAY, MAY 31.

FOURTEENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

The Chief-Justice took his seat at the usual hour (10 o'clock), but some time was occupied before the commencement of the proceedings by the erection of a soundingboard over the witness-box for the claimant, who was yesterday removed to a seat below the learned Judge, in consequence of the impossibility of hearing him from the witness-box. The erection of the sounding-board, of course, engaged the attention of the whole of the audience assembled, who had nothing to do but to sit or stand and watch its progress; and as the two supports, before the board was placed on them, somewhat resembled two gibbets in appearance, enough was found in this simple circumstance to occasion the most extraordinary merriment among the spectators, who indulged in their evident enjoyment to their hearts' content.

The Claimant's examination by Mr. Giffard was then continued: Last night, I think, you told mo you were in London during the Duke of Wellington's funeral?— Yes.

Mr. Giffard: How many times did you go down to Tichborne in 1852, before yon sold out of tiie army?—I can't say how many. I went there on several occasions, i saw Miss Brain and Miss Doughty there. I met the latter also at Tichborne in. 1852. I knew her very well, and walked and rode about with her frequently.

Mr. Giffard: Do you know whether your acquaintance with Miss Doughty was agreeablo to her father?—I think not. The feeling on his part became manifest in 1852. I walked with her once or twice a week, perhaps, but I cannot say exactly. The discovery that my intentions were not agreeable to her father pre vented me from going there so often. I sold out of the army at the beginning of February, 1853, and in a few months afterwards I determined to leave England. I did not intend returning during the lifetime of my father. My home with my father and mother was anything but a happy one. I took leave of my parents in Paris about the 14th of February. They were living at that time in the Rue St. Honore, opposite the Louvre. I could see the Louvre from the window of their house. I remained there one clear day. I saw Chatillon there. He came over and asked my father to allow me to breakfast with him, but my father refused, saying that as it was the last morning he wished me to be in his own company. I left several things with my mother—amongst them a small watch and chain which I had given me when I was eight years of age. The chain I now wear. It was given to me by my mother on my return. The watch was a present from one of the nurses— Sarah, I believe. After I had left the chain with my mother, I went with Chatillon to buy a steel one to put on a silver watch which had been given me by Mr. Vincent Gosford. I took both watch and chain with me abroad. I do not think that my father gave me any money upon my going away, as I had in my possession the cash which I received for my commission. I had made some arrangement for the repayment of the money with which I had purchased my commission. I gave my mother a charge on the Doughty estates. Mr. Hopkins was the solicitor engaged in the transaction, and he and Mr. Henry Seymour were the trustees. They were to see that the interest on the £3,000 was paid over to my mother. Mr. Hopkins, on my return had entirely forgotten the circumstance until I reminded him about it. My mother told mo one day that she thought she had not received all the money to which she was entitled. I asked my mother if she had received the interest, and she said she had not, and accordingly I went to Alresford to inquire about it. I saw Mr. Hopkins, and he said that the money was in Mr. Bulpitt's bank, but, on seeing that gentleman, he told me that it was at Barclay's bank. Mr. Hopkins said he gave up the trusteeship on hearing of my loss at sea. Mr. Seymour, it appeared, had also given up the trusteeship. I did not come back to London from Paris. I made a will before I went abroad, but I did not communicate the fact to any of my relations and friends. I did it through Mr. Edward Slaughter. I did not do it through Mr. Hopkins, because I knew he would tell my father of it. He would never do anything without telling my father. I have seen the will since at Doctors' Commons. It was a long time in preparation, and two or three months elapsed before I signed it at Canterbury. I made preparations for my voyage. I purchased most of my outfit in London.

Mr. Giffard: Now, before you went abroad, did you give a sealed packet to Mr. Vincent Gosford?—I did.

Mr. Giffard: Did any one but yourself see the contents of that packet?—Yes, Gosford. I read it to him when I wrote it. I read it to him in his own parlour at Cherrington.

At this stage Mr. Giffard asked Mr. Gosford if he had not a subpœna to produce the document?

Mr. Gosford: I have.

Mr. Giffard: Do you produce it?—

Mr. Gosford: No.

Mr. Giffard (to Claimant): Are you able to repeat the contents of that sealed packet?—I am, but I decline to do so.

Mr. Giffard: We Will see about that another time. At present are you able to repeat it?—I am.

Mr. Giffard: We understand what you mean when you say you decline to do it now.

The Solicitor-General: Yon know that I know what you refer to. I make no objection. You can state it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We will conduct our case in our own way.

Mr. Giffard (to claimant): What I ask you now is whether you are able to repeat the contents of the packet?—I am.

Mr. Giffard: Very well; I will say no more about it than this—are there reasons for not stating them publicly?—There are very strong reasons.

The Solicitor-General: You have done it privately, have you not'

The Claimant: What do you mean?

Mr. Giffard: Attend to me.

Tits Chief-Justice: Your time, Mr. Solicitor, will come by-and-by. At present no or ample of irregularity should be set.

Mr. Giffard: From what port did you start for South America?—Southampton, for Havre. I went to Havre by steamer. I was under the impression that Mr. Gosford saw me off, but find I am mistaken, and that it was on the occasion when [ went over to France to bid my father and mother good-bye. I remember calling upon the Rev. Mr. Mount, a priest, at Southampton, before I left. I can't say how long I was there. He came out of the house, and walked up the street with me. I remember seeing Mr. Gosford at Winchester, and it was about this time that I gave directions to him about keeping my horse. I took John Moore as my servant with me abroad. I had Known him about four or five months then. I do not remember the day when I embarked at Havre, but [ think it was the 1st March, 1853. The vessel in which I sailed was bound for Valparaiso. She was a steamer named the Pauline. We got into Falmouth owing to stress of weather, and remained there several days. The fact that we had been driven into the harbour in 1853 had slipped my memory when I was under examination at the Law Institute. But when I visited the bay two years ago I knew it again, and it recalled the circumstance to my memory. The Pauline was a sailing vessel. There were no passengers besides myself and a super-cargo. During my voyage I amused myself with catching birds, shooting, and fishing. I remember having a few words with Moore on my passage out. They were about his keeping a diary. I told him I could not have anything put down about me. I said I did not keep a servant to put my actions down in a diary. I remember something happening to my eye during my voyage. I caught a hook in it.

The Chief-Justice: Mr. Giffard, do not suggest anything.

Mr. Giffard: I am not aware that I did, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: You first put a question as to whether there were any passengers .Then you put whether there were any passengers besides himself and his servant. That is what I call a suggestive question, which has been read I think it better to avoid suggestive questions.

Mr. Giffard to v tness): Describe the accident and how it happened.

The Claimant: A hook " ketched " me in the eye. There were several hooks hung up for the purpose of hanging birds on for skinning them, and as I was passing the swing of the hook, from the motion of the ship, caused it to catch in my eye. It was the upper eyelid of the right eye. The hooks were hung up in the quarter galley.

The Chief-Justice: Where?—The closet of the ship.

A Juryman: They are equivalent phrases.

The Chief-Justice said that of course the witness could not be expected to continue his evidence if he felt so unwell as to be unable to do so.

Mr. Giffard said they had other witnesses ready, so that the time of the Court would not be wasted.

The Claimant: I should not be doing myself justice if I remained. My object is to be able to come to-morrow.

The Chief-Justice: So far as I can judge, you would be obliged to attend at least a week.

The Claimant: And therefore it would not be prudent to knock me up in one day.

A Juror: We can see that the witness has been suffering.

The Chief-Justice: No doubt, gentlemen. The witness looked exhausted this morning.

The Claimant: I was, my lord, but I wished to go on and do my best. I thought I had better try.

The Chief-Justice: Well, sir, you may retire, and I hope you'll take care of yourself and be strong by the morning.

The Claimant retired at half-past two.

The Solicitor-General: I may say, on the part of the other side, that there is no desire that the witness should be pressed. The cross-examination, my lord, will be rather disagreeable. (A laugh.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I don't see why my learned friend should anticipate any thing of the kind. It will not be disagreeable if he tells the truth; and I know my learned friend is never unnecessarily disagreeable.

The Solicitor-General: I will be as disagreeable as I can. (Laughter.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Now, then, we know your tactics. Perhaps we might take another witness.

The Solicitor-General: I trust your lordship will not do that. I trust you will not interpose a witness into the cross-examination of the chief witness in this case.

The Chief-Justice: We never get through a witness in less than two or three hours, and the result would be that we should have two witnesses half-finished.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine then proposed to put in the deposition of William White, whose evidence was alluded to in an early stage of the case. His death, the oath, and signature were proved, and

The Solicitor-General, who was understood to object, said that the question of the admissibility of this document would be included in one bill of exceptions.

Some discussion arose on technical questions, and Mr. Chapman Barber very lucidly explained certain practices in Chancery as to the swearing and use of affidavits. In the end, however, no further progress was made, although both his lordship and the jury, and indeed all parties, appeared anxious to go on, and the Court adjourned to ten to-morrow.

The Chief-Justice (to the jury): There is much that may not seem very material to you which must be gone into, for this is a most extraordinary trial, and there are many reasons why the claimant's examination should be finished before other evidence is given.

The Foreman: We are all fully aware of that, and are ready to sit any length of time and to do everything we can; but suppose the plaintiff is ill to-morrow?

The Chief-Justice: Oh, pray, gentlemen, let us not anticipate evil.

The Court then adjourned at a few minutes to three o'clock, until the next day.

SIXTEENTH DAY.—THURSDAY, JUNE 1.

FIFTEENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

The Claimant's examination by Mr. Giffard was continued. He said: While I was at Rio I became acquainted with a captain of a vessel. I met him at the hotel. His name was Birkett. He told me he was going to sail next day for New York, and that he would call at Kingston, in Jamaica. I applied for a passport, but could not get it in time. It is necessary to give forty-eight hours' notice in Rio before one can get a passport. I determined to go in the ship. I had about £20 with me. I had spent most of the £200 I got on the letter of credit. I had spent it in drink. I gave £30 to the captain, and 1 paid my hotel account. It is not a fact that Jules Barrant went on board with my luggage. He was to have done so. I was the worse for liquor when I went on board. I principally drank cana, which is a kind of white spirit. " Cana" is a Portuguese word. The spirit is called " aqua denta" in Spanish. While I was at Rio I received a letter from my father He wished me to return. It was a very " cross" letter. He scolded me for spending so much money. The Bella was the vessel in which I embarked.

How did you get on board?—I was hidden away.

Did you appear on deck at all?—Not until the day the Bella went down. I was the only passenger on board. I came on deck shortly after breakfast the day the vessel foundered. The captain was standing at the side of the vessel. One of the sailors said the vessel looked very low, and he thought she was taking in a lot of water. The captain ordered the pumps to be tried, and it was ascertained that there was water in the ship. I think it was found that there was twelve feet of water. They worked the pumps, but the water increased. There were two pumps. The captain ordered the boats to be lowered. There were three boats. There was a hole in one of them, and it could not be used. Provisions were put in the larger of the other two boats. The provisions consisted of biscuits and a quantity of preserved meats in tins. The captain's papers and compasses and other things were put on board, and the boat was then put to sea. She was put into the water by the aid of the yards. The other boat was lowered afterwards, and I went in her with eight of the crew. The captain was in the other boat. A few words passed between the captain and the mate. It was a kind of a quarrel. The captain wished the mate to take charge of the smaller boat, but he would not do so, He went in the same boat with the captain. There were six or seven persons in the larger boat. The number in her was smaller, on account of the provisions. Those of us who were in the smaller boat were ordered to follow the other. All this occupied about an hour and a half. We saw the Bella go down. She went down about twelve o'clock, and I should say it was about eleven when we went into the boats. We followed the large boat all that day, the next night, and all the following day. On the evening of the second day it came on very dark and rough, and we could not see her. She was not in sight on the morning of the third day. While we were with the other boat we were supplied with bread and water night and morning. After we parted company there were a few biscuits in our boat, but we had no water. One of the sailors in the other boat threw the biscuits into ours. We did not know what course the other boat was going in when we left her. We had no charts or compasses. The boats were pulling. The weather was very hot. On tho fourth morning we saw a ship in sight. We pulled very hard to get up to her, but a breeze of wind sprung up, and it was not until the third attempt that we approached her. We were almost exhausted when we made the last attempt. I did nothing except throwing the water out of the boat with a tin. While the boat was being pulled, one of the sailors took off his red shirt, and put it on the top of a scull as a signal. The vessel then hoisted a flag.

What was done after?—I suppose they rowed to her.

How is it you don't know?—I became insensible.

Do you remember being taken on board the vessel?—No.

Are you able to explain how it was you became insensible?—I suppose it was the result of over-excitement.

How long was it before this that you had drunk any water?—I should say about sixty hours. I ate some of the biscuits which were in the boat. They were soaked with salt water.

What is the state of your memory as to what occurred on board that vessel?—Very imperfect.

Are you able to say that the shipwreck affected your memory, or, in other words, s your memory as good now as it was before the shipwreck?—I cannot answer that question. I am not capable of judging. I should Bay that the vessel which picked us up was larger than the Bella. I believe she was an American vessel. I was unwell for seven or eight weeks on board. I had saved nothing whatever from the wreck. My clothes and the ring on my finger wore all I had. That was because I didn't go back to the cabin of the Bella when I found the vessel was sinking. There was a red stone on the ring, and a hind's head with a wing, which is the Tichborne crest. I sold the ring in Melbourne. I arrived in Melbourne on the 23rd or 2tth of July. I left Rio on the 20th or 21st of April.

When you went to Melbourne. where did you go?—I went with the captain.

Where did you go with him?—To two establishments, one of which, I believe, was the Custom House.

Do you remember the condition Melbourne was in?—I cannot say.

Did you learn afterwards?—Yes, there was great excitement about the gold fields.

The Foreman of the Jury: The jury would like to know the claimant's recollection of the name of the ship which picked him up?

Mr. Giffard: I was going to ask him that. (To witness;: Be good enough to answer the question.—I think it was the Osprey.

What was the captain's name?—It was either Lewis or Owen. The vessel had three masts. She was a full-rigged ship. I don't remember anything else about the ship except that she had a round stern.

The Foreman: The jury want to know what became of the other men in the boat, and whether the captain made a report at the Custom House.—When I went with the captain to the Custom House he entered a room by himself. As regards the other men, they were on board when I left.

Foreman: We want to know whether there were any depositions taken, or whether there was a report to Lloyd's agent.

Claimant: Not that I know of. I went away next day, and did not let the captain know I was going. I went into a sale yard in Burke-street, Melbourne, where 1 saw a lot of horses. One of the horses was " bucking," and a person standing by me, supposing I was a new arrival, asked me if I thought I could ride the horse. I told him I thought I could. We got into conversation, and he afterwards asked me if wonld go down to Gripsland with him. The gentleman's name was William Foster. He told me I should have nothing to do hut to ride. I agreed to go with him, and left the yard with him. I changed my name to Thomas Castro.

By the Foreman: In the American ship I went by my own name.

Mr. Giffard: What induced you to adopt that name?—I suppose it was by knowing Castro in Chili. I can't say what was in my mind at the time, but that could he my only reason. After I left the horse-yard with Foster, I went with him to the Limerick Castle Hotel, at the end of Elizabeth-street. Mrs. Hickey was the proprietress. When I had the conversation with Mr. Foster, I had no idea what riding after stock was. He said I would have a very jolly life in the bush, and that I would have plenty of hunting, angling, and shooting. I have been at the Limerick Castle Hotel frequently since then. Mr. Foster and I stayed at the hotel all the night of the day on which I mot him, and we started for Gipsland nest morning. Several men who had come from Gipsland with him stayed at the hotel. He had brought horses to the Melbourne market. J remember the names of soma of the men. The name of one was Mould, and another was called the " Highlandman." His Christian name was Andrew, but I do not know what his surnamewas. We went to Boisdale Station, which is eleven days' journey from Melbourne, if on® has to drive cattle. I should say it is from 180 to 220 miles from Melbourne, but I am not certain, as it is impossible to know the distance if you are crawling after cattle all the way. When I got to Boisdale, I was shown " the run." Mr. Foster was superintendent of " the run," which belonged to his uncle, Mr. .John Foster, who was considered to bo a very wealthy person. Boisdale is on the Avon river, which is about four miles from Stratford-on-Avon. (A laugh.) I remained at Boisdale till the beginning of 1856, or the latter end of 1855. I went from Boisdale to Dargo. Borne mountains intervene; but, as the crow flies, it is not far. The journey is about a mile and a half.

Did you at any time meet a person named Arthur Orton?—I did.

Where did you first meet him?—In Boisdale.

About how long after you had been with Mr. Foster at Boisdale?—About eighteen months or two years.

What was Arthur Orton when you first knew him?— He rode after stock. He could ride very well as an ordinary rider.

Give a description of him.—He had rather sharp features and a lengthy face, and he was a large-boned man.

Was there anything remarkable about his face?—He was slightly marked with the small-pox. The marks were quite distinct. I don't remember that I havo seen his arms bare, or that he had any marks on his arm. He had very red eyes, but I cannot say anything as to their size. He was about an inch and a half taller than I am. I met Orton when I was in charge of the Dargo Station. I met him while I was on a visit from Dargo to Boisdale. He had very largo hands and feet. I became intimate with Orton. I saw a good deal of him when he came to Dargo. He succeeded me there. I think a man named Miller was in charge at Dargo before I went there. I remained with Mr. Foster till the latter part of 1857. At that time I knew a person named Norman Roland Nicholson. We both lived in the one hut about seven or eight months. There was a hut-keeper with us. We saw nobody there. In fact, there was no person living within sixty miles from us. In later years Arthur Orton went by the name of Alfred Smith. When I say later years," I mean about 1856. When I left Mr. Foster I went to the township of Flodden Creek, in the district of Sale, for about a fortnight. I was generally called " Tom." Very few persons in the " bush" are known by their Christian names and surnames combined. After I left Sale I went to the mountains, and to the " Nicholson River," where there were diggings. After remaining there a few days I went to Dargo, where I stayed about four days. I never settled anywhere for about three years after that, except at the Omao diggings, where I was for about six months. I went to Wagga Wagga in 1862. I was called by various names. Some called me Tom, some called me Bob, and others called me " the Foreigner." I went to several places in the time between my leaving Dargo and arriving at Wagga Wagga. I used to run the mail from Boree to Nevanda, which is about 74 miles. I was a short time at a place called Myer's Flat in 1858. Myer's Flat is the suburbs of the Bendigo Diggings. Orton was with me there. There was a hotel in the place. I knew the proprietor, but I don't remember his name. On the first occasion that I went to Wagga Wagga I remained there ten or twelve days. I stayed there four months, when I went a second time. About nine months after my second visit I went there a third time, and remained about two years. During that time I superintended a butchering business belonging to Mr. Robert Higgins. Arthur Orton was at Wagga Wagga when I left finally, about the commencement of June, 1866. He was then passing in the name of Alfred Smith. I think he first passed by that name in 1862, when he was on the Lochlin river. I have been there, but not with him. He left me in 1859 in Deliquin, on the River Edward. He was then passing by his own name. I met him again at the Boree. He had crossed the plains from the Lochlin. We went to Wagga Wagga together. After remaining there three days he went one way and I went another. I got married in the beginning of 1865. My wife's maiden name was Bryant. I was married first at Wagga Wagga in a private house. The minister was a Protestant of some kind. I had not changed my religion as a Catholic, but I did not get married in my own church because the priest and myself were not good friends. I married in the name of Thomas Castro. My wife believed that to be my name. I met Patrick Riordan in 1865. I had known him before. He was a slaughterman in Higgins's employment. I remember having the book produced in my possession. I bought it for Mr. Higgins. I left the book at Wagga Wagga when I left about the commencement of 1866. There is some of my writing in the book. " R. C. T., Hampshire, Eng." is in my writing. I don't know why a piece of the top of one of the leaves has been cut off. I did not know until you handed me the book that the piece was cut off. I have not seen the book since I have been at Mr. Higgins's until now.

When did you first hear or see any advertisement by your mother for you?—In '66. I remember it was after I left Higgins's.

How came you to see any advertisement?—It was shown to me by a very great friend of mine, who was a Hampshire man.

The Chief-Justice: What is his name?—Richard Slate. I made an arrangement to go to Melbourne with some cattle for Mr. Higgins's brother-in-law, Mr. Roche. I was not able to go, and I got Slate to go for me. On his return from Melbourne I saw an advertisement in the paper which he brought with him. In fact, he pointed it out to me. I suppose he had heard me mention Hampshire.

Counsel here stated that the words " Hampshire, England," " Hampshire, Eng.," and " Hampshire, Ing.," were written in the book.

Mr. Giffard then read the advertisement referred to, which was as follows:—

Melbourne, 4th August, 1865.

A handsome reward will be given to any person who can furnish such information as will discover the fate of Roger Charles Tichborne. Hie sailed from the port of Rio de Janeiro on the 20th April, 1854, in the ship La Bella, and has never been heard of since. A report reached England to the effect that a portion of the crew and passengers of the vessel were picked up by a vessel bound for Australia. Melbourne, it is believed. It is not known whether Roger Charles Tichborne was among the drowned or the saved. He would be at the present time about 32 years of age, of delicate constitution, with very light brown hair and blue eyes; Mr. Tichborne is the son of Sir James Tiehborne, now deceased, and is heir to all his estates. The advertiser is instructed to state that a most liberal reward will be given for any information that may do finitely point out his fate. Gentlemen in possession of shipping reports may be able to find some record of the shipwrecked passengers of the La Bella, and a careful search, if with a successful result, will repay any one who will take the trouble to investigate the matter.

ARTHUR CUBITT,

Missing Friend's Office, Bridge-street, Sydney, New South Wales.

The Solicitor-General said that he did not admit the correctness of the date That advertisement was inserted in English, French, and Spanish, in the Times, in 1863.

The Chief-Justice said it was in evidence that advertisements had been published in the Times, in 1863, in various languages.

Mr. Giffard: But not in an Australian paper.

The Chief-Justice: Surely, thoy read the Times in Australia.

The Solicitor-General: And, as a matter of fact, advertisements in Australian papers appeared much earlier than 1865.

The Foreman of the Jury: They file all the Australian papers at the British Museum.

This statement was corroborated by several of the jury

The Chief-Justice: It would be very easy, with a little trouble, to find out all this, for it is of great importance.

Examination resumed.

The Chief-Justice: Then you think it was a paper recently published that you saw?—Yes.

Mr. Giffard: At the time you saw it you say you were in no employment?— No; I am quite sure of that.

What was the last employment you were in before you saw it?—Higgins's.

How long had you left his employment when you saw the advertisement?—I have no idea.

The Jury wished the following question to be put to the claimant: Was Arthur Orton, alias Smith, at any time in the employ of Higgins?

The Claimant: Yes, he was for a short time, but not in the same establishment. I believe he was employed for a short time in the yard and stables of the Australian Hotel, which was also kept by Higgins.

After you saw the advertisement, did you communicate with Mr. Gibbs?—Yes. I I saw him about it, and on the 17th January, 1866, I wrote a letter to my mother.

Mr. Giffard: I don't propose to read the letter. It has already been read to the jury.

The Chief-Justice: Perhaps it will be better to read it now, as this is the proper place for it to appear. We will not notice any bad spelling, but merely have it read.

[The letter, which has already been given on page 19, was then read by the clerk. It was a letter dated from Wagga Wagga, in which the writer regretted the trouble and anxiety he had caused Lady Tichborne for not writing before; and stated that although he had been in a humble position of life, he had done nothing to disgrace her and the family. He had been a poor man and nothing worse, and in conclusion he asked for money to enable him to return. The letter was incomplete, the last half-sheet, with the signature, being missing.]

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The letter was found amongst the dowager's papers after her death, and whoever took possession of those papers has the remaining sheet of the letter.

The Chief-Justice: So far there is no evidence as to the letter being the claimant's.

The Claimant: I should like to see if it is in my own handwriting.

The Chief-Justice: Certainly. Look at it.

The claimant examined the letter.

The Chief-Justice: Well, what do you say?—It is in my writing, my lord.

Mr. Giffard: Now you have hear I the letter read, is it a fact that you have a mark on your side as stated in the letter?—It is.

What sort of mark is it in size?—I suppose about three inches by two.

And is it a mark that has been on you all your lifetime?—I suppose so. (Laughter.)

Well, as far as you can remember?—Yes.

What is the other allusion about the card case at Brighton, and the promise that that letter speaks of?—It is the same that you have examined me on.

The Chief-Justice: Would you mind repeating it?—It was some money that I lost, my lord.

Mr. Giffard: And what was the promise?—That I would not play at cards again.

At the time you wrote that letter had you seen Bogle in Australia?—No.

Nor any one connected with Tichborne?—No.

The Chief-Justice: Had you seen Mr. Gibbs at that time?—Yes, my lord, I wrote the letter at his office.

Did you write again to your mother on the 24th May, 1866?—Yes.

The Chief-Justice: Was that the second letter?

Mr. Giffard: Yes, my lord, I will read it, without noticing the bad spelling.

The letter was then read as follows:—

Wagga Wagga, May 24, 1866.

My dearly beloved Mother,—I receved your note dated 25th Feb., and was very glad to hear you where quite well. I was very sorry to hear of poor father and Alfred's death. I Hardly know, my Dear mother, how you have borne the suspence of knowing my fate so long. You must not blame me, mother, for I believe fate had A great deal to do with it. I wrote to you on the 16th Jan. for the first time since I been in Australia, you will wander why I have not wrote before. But that I will tell you myself, should God spare my life to reach England, I am trying to get away by the Panama rout which leaves Sydney on the 15th June. But I do not know weather the banke here will advance me the money or not. My Attorney has promice to see him this morning. He is a gentleman, and I have no doubt he will advance me the Moyney. Speaking of Mr. Gibbs, my attorney, he is the only friend I ever had since I been in Australia. But I will be able to tell you more of his kindness when I see you, which I hope, please God, will not belong. I watchd the last Mail when it arrived with great anjoitty, hoping to have had an answer from you, but I suppose you have not time to write by the mail.—Hopeing to see you about the 20th August, I remain, your beloved son,

ROGER CHARLES TICHBORNE.

Can you explain how it was that your mother wrote the letter of the 25th February before yours dated the 17th January had reached her?—Mr. Gibbs was a solicitor at Wagga Wagga, and at the time my creditors were pressing me very much to pay their accounts. I went to him for the purpose of taking me through the insolvency court; but after making the arrangements with him, it occurred to me that I might perhaps be committing myself in becoming an insolvent under an assumed name. I returned, and asked him the question whether, if at any future period I became possessed of property under another name, I should be liable to a criminal prosecution. He said that I should; therefore, I told him not to take any further proceedings in the matter. He became very inquisitive, and wished to know what my real name was.

The Chief-Justice: What time was this?—About October, 1865. I declined to tell him my name. About two months after he came to me and said, " I know now what your name is." I said, " You know nothing of the kind, and I shall be much obliged if you will mind your own business." He replied, " You cannot deny it, for there are your initials on the very pipe you are smoking." He told me that if I did not write to my mother in six months, he would do so. I afterwards found that he had been communicating with Mr. Cubitt, the inquiry agent of Sydney, and that he (Cubitt) had written to my mother. I received the letter of the 25th February from my mother, through Mr. Cubitt. It was handed to me by Mr. Gibbs.

A copy of Lady Tichborne's letter was then read, as follows:—

25 Feby., 1866.

My dearest beloved roger,—I hope you will not refuse to come back to your mother, who is still living je n'ai jamais perdu l'esperance de vs. revoir ds. ce monde. I have had the very great misfortune to lose your poor dear father, and lately I have lost my beloved son Alfred. I am now alone in this world of sorrow. I hope, therefore, you will take that in consideration, and that you will come to join me as soon as possible. You need not be afraid about money, as you will have all the money necessary to pay your expenses. Only come to see your poor lovely mother, and remember the promise you made your dear father before going away, that if God called him to himself that you would then come back to be your mother's protector, and you promised him to come back certainly in that melancholy case, and now your poor dear brother is dead I have nobody to look to but you. I trust, my beloved roger, that you will come back immediately, and all the money required to pay your expenses will be soon found; only write to me and give me some details about yourself. You know that if you let a banker know that you was Sir roger tichborne, they will advance the money necessary. if you do not like to do it, at least write to me all about yourself, and let me know the way to send the money, and safely, however, it will be the longest way, and take more time than if you will consent to let your banker know who you are; it would certainly be the shortest way, as letters are so long coming. Hero is my address, where you can send your letter:—Lady Tichborne, to the care of Messrs. Callaghan and Co., 40, Rue Neuve les Mathurins, Paris—and he will forward it to me. And now adieu, my beloved son; my dearest roger, write to your poor mother, who is thoroughly unhappy at the loss I have had to bear, and whose happiness and consolation will be in you again.—Your own mother,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

Mr. Giffard: Did Gibbs make you any advance of money?—Yes; he allowed me £10 per week previous to advancing me a larger sum.

When?—Shortly after I wrote the second letter, on the 24th May.

At that time was Orton with you?—Yes.

Whereabouts was he living then?—About sixty miles from Wagga Wagga.

Under what name was he passing then?—Smith.

Was there any promise as to an advance of money by you to Orton?—After that: just before I came away.

Did Gibbs make any stipulation to you about making a will?—Yes.

Were you willing or reluctant to make one?—Very unwilling.

Had you any talk with Arthur Orton on the subject?—I had.

The Chief-Justice: What time was it when Gibbs advanced the money?—About April, 1866.

Mr. Giffard: How soon after the advance of the £10 per week did you have any arrangement with Orton about giving him money?—It would be somewhere about the middle of May, but I cannot tell you exactly. I gave Orton about .£50.

Was that all he was to have?—That was all at that time.

Is it a fact that you did make and execute a will?—It is.

When was that?—I can't tell you the date, but it was about ten days previous to my leaving Wagga Wagga. I executed it at Gibbs's office.

The Solicitor-General: You can't call it a will unless you mean to put it in.

Mr. Giffard: Well, a piece of paper, at present.

The Chief-Justice (to the jury): These little sparring matches are supposed to influence you.

The Foreman: The learned counsel will be much disappointed if they think this will be the effect. We prefer to hear evidence, no matter whether you call a paper a will or anything else.

Mr. Giffard: Did you, at all events, go to Gibb's office?—I did. Arthur Orton was close by at the time, but did not go into the office.

How soon after did you leave Wagga Wagga?—A few days. I cannot speak to a day.

When did you first get a letter from your mother in answer to the one you wrote? I don't remember what month it was, but it was by the ordinary return of post, whenever that was. From Wagga Wagga I went to Goulburn, and from thence to Sydney. Then I returned to Goulburn, and whilst there I was re-married at the Catholic Church in my own name.

The Chief-Justice: What name? Tell us the name you were married by.—Roger Charles Tichborne, my lord.

[The certificate of marriage was here handed to the claimant.]

Mr. Giffard: Is that a copy of the certificate?—I believe it is.

[The certificate, dated July 9, 1886, was read. The claimant's name appeared in full, his wife's name being Mary Ann Bryant, a spinster, then living with her mother, and she placed her mark instead of her name. The claimant signed his name Roger Charles Tichborne.]

Had you a daughter at that time born?—Yes.

What age would she be?—About four months, I believe.

Did you have her christened then?—Yes.

By what name?—Teresa Mary Agnes.

How came you to select those names?—I don't know, I am sure.

After that did you go back to Sydney?—I did.

And did you there meet a person of the name of Gilfoyle?—Yes.

Was he the first person you had seen connected with Tichborne since 1853?—I believe he was; but I am not certain whether I had seen Mr. Turvill. the secretary to Mr. John Young. I remember Mr. Turvill calling upon me at some time or other. I knew his father before I left England, but not him.

Did you see anyone else you knew?—Yes; I saw Bogle sitting in the archway of an hotel.

Can you give me the date of that?—No, I am afraid not, but I can trace it out. It was some time in August, 1866.

Did you recognise him, or he you?—I recognised him the moment I saw him.

Did anyone point him out to you?—No. I had a gentleman with me at the time, an overseer of the Blowgong Station, about nine miles from Wagga Wagga; but I do not remember his name. He was a Scotchman, and had been in the colony for upwards of thirty years. He was in Mr. Osborne's employ, I believe, for over twent-five years.

Did you have any conversation with Bogle?—Not then; I merely said as I passed, " How do you do, Bogle? What brings you here?" or something of the sort; and I told him I would see him directly afterwards. I could not verv well talk to him then.

And you had some conversation with him afterwards?—Yes.

And did you agree to take Bogle with you to England?—Yes.

And did you, in fact, do so?—I did.

When and where did you embark?—From Sydney, in September. We sailed viâ New Zealand aud Panama, and from Aspinall to New York. We stayed in New York about a month. We left there in December, and had an ordinary passage of fifteen days. We reached this country on Christmas Day. We arrived at one of the docks in London about five in the evening. I went direct to Ford's Hotel, Manchester-street.

How came you to select tliat hotel?—Because we all used to go there.

Whom do you mean by " we"?—My father and my uncle.

Did you go and look for your mother that day?—Yes; about nine o'clock I went to Beaumont-street, Portman-square.

How came you to go there?—Because one of the waiters told me she was there; but I found she was in Paris. The next day I went down to the ship, and thon over to Blackwall, and ultimately to the Clarendon Hotel, Gravesend.

Ought you to have gone to France?—Yes; I ought to have gone there first, but I had not sufficient money. I intended to sail from Panama to France, but I had to remain there three weeks waiting for the French steamer. On the day that she ought to have sailed she had not even arrived. Finding I was becoming unwoll, it being just at the commencement of the rainy season, I started for New York. When I got there I found I had run short of money, owing to my stay at Panama.

Your mother sent you money, I believe; did you ever receive it at Wagga Wagga?—Yes, she sent me £400, but I did not receive it until I reached London.

How long did you stay at the Clarendon Hotel, Gravesend?—About a fortnight, I think.

Before seeing your mother did you go anywhere else?—Yes, I went down to Tichborne.

Did you disclose yourself to the neighbourhood, or try to keep yourself secret?—I tried to keep myself secret; but I did not succeed, because there wore several who knew me.

Did you make any effort to show that you were yourself Sir Roger Tichborne?—None whatever.

How long did you stay?—Four or five days, I think, at the Swan Hotel. Alresford.

Did you write to your mother?—Yes, and asked her to come over, as I could not go to see her.

Did you see any persons at the Clarendon whom you knew?—Yes, Mr. Gosford and Mr. Plowden, and this person here (pointing to a gentleman in court) whom I did not know. I think he is Mr. Cullington, the attorney to the trustees.

Can you tell whether Mr. Gosford appeared to recognise you?—Well, I can't say he did the first day. If he did he behaved in a very ungontlemanly manner. (Laughter.)

You saw him again, I know, the second day. I do not wish to go into that. Did you go to Paris?—Yes, accompanied by Mr. Leet, the agent for Mr. H. Allsopp, the brewer.

Mr. Holmes was your solicitor?—Yes.

Had you seen Mr. Bowker before you went to Paris?—I cannot say that I recognised him.

At Paris where did you stay?—At the Hotel de Lille et d'Albion. I did not see my mother that night, as it was late. The next day I had to send tor her to see me at the hotel, because I was unwell.

Do you think your mother recognised you at first?—

The Chief-Justice: Describe the scene as nearly as you can.

The Claimant: I don't know that I am able to do it.

The Chief-Justice: Not to describe what had occurred?—Not when my mother entered the room.

Describe it in the best way you can. You have not much longer to remain in the box.—I am glad to hear that, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: You merely heard that.

Mr. Giffard: You have told us that your weight is now 26 stone?—I am 26 stone 4lbs.

What was your weight when you went to Cordova in November, 1868?—About 22 stone, I think.

Do you know what your weight was when you arrived in this country on Christmas Day, 1866?—I think it was 18 stone.

I don't know whether you were weighed when in Australia?—Oh, yes, several times. In January, 1865, I was 11 stone 4lbs. When with my regiment in Ireland I was 10 stone 4lbs.

You mentioned that you first met Arthur Orton somewhere about 1857?—Yes.

And you say that you saw him in 1866, before you left?—Yes.

Did you see him continually during the period between those dates?—No.

Did you lose sight of him for any time?—Yes. I lost sight of him for three years.

It was then announced that this was the conclusion of the examination in chief.

The Solicitor-General, before proceeding with the cross-examination, requested Mr. Holmes to be called on his subpœna.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Mr. Holmes has been in court with the papers this morning, but has gone out for a few minutes. Mr. Spofforth was under the belief that the claimant's examination would last fully an hour, and he has given him leave to retire for a few minutes.

In a short time Mr. Holmes appeared, and was asked to produce the Wagga Wagga will.

Mr. Holmes said that before he produced it he ought to have the consent of the plaintiff's counsel.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We give our consent, my lord.

The will was put in, and

The Claimant's Cross-examination

By the Solicitor-General was commenced.

The Solicitor-General: Is the signature to the will yours?

Claimant: Yes.

The Solicitor-General then proceeded to read the will as follows:—

The last will and testament of Roger Charles Tichborne, of Tichborne, in the county of Hampshire, in England, at present of Wagga Wagga, in the colony of New South Wales, Baronet.—I give, bequeath, and devise to my wife, Mary Anne Tichborne, known in New South Wales as Mary Ann Castro (I having married her in the name of Thomas Castro) her lawful dower out of my estates. I give, bequeath, and devise to my mother, Lady Hannah Frances Tichborne —

Now, what is your mother's name?—Henrietta Félicite (pronounced Feleceet.)

[Somebody in court said Félicité.]

The Chief-Justiee (indignantly): I heard some one say Félicité. (To the claimant) Who was it?

Claimant: I don't know, my lord. It was some one down here—I can't say who. I think a gentleman here ought to be removed.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Who is he?

Claimant: Mr. Radcliffe.

Mr. Radcliffe disclaimed having spoken; but he and his wife (formerly Miss Kate Doughty) removed to another part of the court.

The Chief-Justice. If I can find out who spoke, I will certainly commit him for contempt of court. (To the claimant): Tell me who said Félicité?

The Claimant: I cannot say who it was, but it was a gentleman down here.

The Chief-Justice then called upon the delinquent (whoever he might be) to stand up—to which request there being no response, the learned judge ordered an officer of the court to stand close by the witness-box, and stated that whoever was detected speaking should be severely punished.

The Solicitor-General (to claimant): Now, tell me what is your mothers name?—Henrietta Félicite (pronounced as before).

How came you to make the will which has just been produced by Mr. Holmes?—Well, I had a purpose.

What purpose?—I decline to answer.

Answer the question.—I will not.

The Chief-Justice: I order you to answer.—Well, Mr. Gibbs would not advance me a sum of money unless I made a will. Therefore I trumped up any kind of thing I possibly could do, making the whole contents of the will wrong in every shape and way.

Was it ever stated in a letter to your mother that Gibbs was your best friend?—It was.

What was your object in trumping up the will?—I did not wish to give Gibbs any more information than I could.

Was your object to give him security?—No, I cannot say that it was.

Did you obtain any money on your making the will?—About £300 then and £400 afterwards; it was less than £700 altogether.

Was it your object to give him a security that would be worthless?—No.

What was your object?—To satisfy a whim that he had. He wished me to do it.

For what purpose?—I cannot say exactly, but he said it was in the event of my death on my return to England.

What was to be the use of the will?—I never intended it to be of use.

Was it executed in fraud of Mr. Gibbs?—I cannot say in fraud.

What was it, then?—It was certainly executed wrongly.

Did he say to you he would not lend you the money unless you executed the will?—No; I don't know that he said that.

I thought you told me that he would not let you have the money unless you executed the will?—Just so.

You obtained it afterwards?—Yes.

Did he make it a condition?—I believe he did.

Did he?—You know better than I do about that.

Did he? is my question.—I believe he did.

You know more than to believe he did, surely. Did he?—I say, to the best of my belief, he did. I think I have made a mistake, my lord. The money was got from Mr. Cotty, a banker. The will was deposited at the bank.

Did he refuse to get you the money until you executed the will?—No; I don't think he refused.

Did he make a difficulty about it?—I believe he did.

Did you execute the will to get the money?—I did.

Did you not five minutes ago say that he refused to let you have the money unless you made the will?—Well, you confused me, and if you make me tell a falsehood I don't do so conscientiously.

The Solicitor-General: People don't tell falsehoods conscientiously.

The Claimant: Some people do.

Was the will executed by you, knowing it to be untrue from beginning to end?—It was.

The date of the will is the 1st June, 1866?—I don't dispute that.

Look at it, or you may say that I am entrapping you—Yes, I see the date is the 1st day of June, 1866.

Had you seen at the time either Bogle or Gilfoyle?—I had seen neither of them.

Had you seen any man connected with Tichborne?—No, I had not.

And on the 1st of June, 1866, you desired to conceal from Mr. Gibbs all about yourself?—I did.

How long had you known Mr. Gibbs at that time?—From two to three years, I think.

How long had you been in communication with Mr. Gibbs on this very matter, upon your oath, and take care.

The Claimant hesitated.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The witness has a right to think before he replies.

The Claimant: Between ten and eleven months, I should say.

The Solicitor-General: Did yon know on the 1st of June that he was in communication with the dowager?—Of course I did.

Why, that first letter which was read yesterday you had enclosed a letter of Mr. Gibbs's to the dowager?—I can't say that I had.

Did you give that letter to Mr. Gibbs to send to her?—Well, I think I might conscientiously say that I don't remember. It is a long time ago. I cannot say whether it was sent with Mr. Gibbs's letter. My impression is that it was not. I should like to know certainly whether it was enclosed or not.

Did Mr. Gibbs prevail upon you to write that letter?—He did.

And you mean to tell the jury that on the 1st of June, 1866, your object was to conceal from the dowager, or your soi-disant mother, all about yourself?—It was I only wish to speak the truth.

Had he told you it was essential that you should send to Lady Tichborne some marks by which she might know you? Had you such communication with him?— No; sometimes I did not speak to him for two or three months. He was anxious to do that which I was not.

By the Chief-Justice: He was anxious to communicate with my home, but I was not willing for him to do so.

The Solicitor-General (reading from the will): You say,—

I give, bequeath, and devise to my wife, Mary Ann Tichborne, known in New South Wales as Mary Ann Castro (I having married her in the name of Thomas Gastro) her lawful dower out of my estates.

Did you mean that to take place?—No, I did not, of course.

Did you know that Mr. Gibbs was in communication with a person of the name of Cubitt, an inquiry agent?—I knew that he was acquainted with Cubitt, and had been in communication with him on the subject of my claim.

Had you seen any of the communications that had passed between the dowager and Mr. Cubitt?—Not at that time. I saw some of them at Sydney.

Do you swear you had not seen them before you saw them in Sydney?—No; that I most solemnly swear.

That Gibbs had not shown you either the dowager's letters, or copies of her letters, to Mr. Cubitt?—No; I positively swear that.

Had you seen Mr. Cubitt's letters to Mr. Gibbs?—No.

Were you only aware then that they were on the subject of jour claim?—They were on the subject of my whereabouts.

Then you will swear they were not shown to you?—I will.

The Solicitor-General continued reading the will:—

I give, bequeath, and devise to my mother, Lady Hannah Frances Tichborne, in addition to her dower, the whole of my property at Cowes in the Isle of Wight.

I point out to you that Hannah and Frances begin with the letters H. and F. Why did you put your mother's name wrongly?—On the same principle that I put everything else wrong.

Did you think that putting Hannah Frances instead of Henrietta Félicitéwould make the will a bad one?—I never intended it to be a good one.

You thought so?—I think so.

You knew your mother's name, of course?—Yes, Henrietta Félicité.

Had Roger Charles Tichborne—I don't say you—but had he any property in Cowes, Isle of Wight?—Well, I am Roger Charles Tichborne. I had no property there.

The Solicitor-General (reading from the will):—

I give, bequeath, and devise to my daughter, Mary Agnes Teresa (she being the issue of my marriage with my said wife) the whole of the Wymmering estate in Hampshire, in England.

Now, had Roger Charles Tichborne any Wymmering estate in Hampshire, in England?—I had not.

The Solicitor-General continued reading:—

And also of my property at or near Hermitage, in Dorsetshire, in England, inherited by me from my father, the late Sir James Tichborne.

I see that you have put the name of your father correctly, so that it was not all trumped up, as jou say. Why did you not call him Sir John, Junius, Jasper, or any other name beginning with J?—Because Mr. Gibbs knew better.

Now did Mr. Gibbs know that the initials of Lady Tichborne were H. F.?—Yes.

How did he know that?—By seeing her first letter to me.

Have you got that letter?—Well, you have read it once, and you can read it again if you like.

That is why you used the words " Hannah Frances"?—I believe it was.

The Solicitor-General: Sarah and Elizabeth would have done as well. You might find a hundred names that would suit a thing of that kind.

Claimant: What do you mean? (To the Judge) I think the conduct of the Solicitor-General is very insolent.

The Solicitor-General: I mean it so.

Claimant: Then I shall treat it for what it is worth.

The Solicitor-General: Had Roger Tichborne any property at Hermitage?—I have a farm called Hermitage in Hampshire, but it is not in Dorsetshire.

The Solicitor-General: Then Roger Tichborne had no property at or near Hermitage, in Dorsetshire?—No; I have no property in Dorsetshire.

Do you mean your own farm?—I can't tell why I put it in.

How came you to put your property at or near Hermitage in Dorsetshire?—I can't tell you.

Was it by chance, then?—I can't say.

You have told us that Roger Tichborne had a farm called Hermitage in Hampshire. How came you to trump up or select the name?—I can't say.

Now, is there not a Hermitage Wharf at Wapping?—No, not that I know of.

Have you been there?—Yes.

When?—I can't say when.

Did you go to Wapping the first day you returned to England?—Yes.

What! on Christmas Day, 1866?—Yes, I am not going to deny it.

And perhaps you saw Hermitage Wharf then?—No, I did not. I never heard of such a place.

Is there a Hermitage Bridge or Hermitage Wharf or Hermitage-street in Wapping?—I cannot say.

Your acquaintance with Wapping is very limited?—Very.

The Chief-Justice: When did you first know of Hermitage Farm?—I cannot say.

The Solicitor-General: Well, we will go through Wapping together by-and-by. You arrived there on Christmas Day, 1866. Did you find your mother there?—No, I did not.

The Solicitor-General (reading from the will):—

And also my property at or near Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, subject also to the annuity hereinafter mentioned as to the said last mentioned property, and also all other my property of every kind over which I have any disposing power. I give and bequeath to Ann Bryant, the daughter of my wife before her marriage with me, the yearly sum or annuity of two hundred pounds, to be paid out of the rents and profits of my estate at or near Ryde, in the Isle of Wight, during the term of her natural life, for her sole and separate use, independent of any husband, she may marry without power of anticipation, and I appoint John Jarvis, Esq., of Bridport, Dorsetshire, in England—

Now, who is John Jarvis?—I cannot say.

Did you know there was such a person in Bridport?—Of my own knowledge, no.

The Solicitor-General (proceeding with the will):—

and Lady Hannah Frances Tichborne, at present in Paris, my mother, executor and executrix of this my will, and in case of either of them being deceased, or unwilling to act, I appoint Sir John Bird, of Hartfordshire, executor in the stead of such executor or executrix so dying or unwilling to act.

Who is Sir John Bird, of Hertfordshire?—I don't know, I atn sure.

How came you to make him executor?—Because there was no other person.

Is that the reason why you selected John Jarvis?—He was suggested to me.

Had you any doubt he was not a real person?—No.

Will you swear John Jarvis does not live at Bridport?—Very probably he does.

The Solicitor-General:—

And I appoint William Gibbs, of Wagga Wagga, solicitor, to be guardian of the persons and estates of my children.

Did you mean that to take place?—No.

The Solicitor-General:—

And in case of his death or inability to act, I appoint Henry Angel, Esq., of Dorset, in England, to be guardian in his stead.

Given under my hand at Wagga Wagga, in the said colony (in duplicate), this 1st day of June, 1866.

ROGER CHARLES TICHBORNE.

Signed by the testator in the presence of us, who in his presence have immediately after set our names as witnesses on the day before-mentioned,

WILLIAM LONE, Storekeeper, Wagga Wagga.

WILLIAM GIBBS, Solicitor, Wagga Wagga.

Now who was Mr. Henry Angel?—I have seen him since.

And you know he is a real living person?—Yes.

Did you know it then?—No, I did not.

You believed Jarvis, the Lady Tichborne, and Angel to be real persons in the flesh?—Yes.

Then why did you put in Sir John Bird?—I cannot say.

Now, is there such a person?—I don't think there is.

Is he a baronet?—I don't know.

Have you been in communication with Mr. Angel since?—I have seen him.

So you have told us. Do you mean by letter? Answer the question.—I have seen him once. I never saw him before, and have never heard of him since.

When did you see him?—I saw him at Mr. Holmes's office.

When?—Two years and a half ago.

Did you expect to meet him?—I cannot say at this moment that I did. Yes, I remember, I did expect to meet him.

I understand, then, that you left as guardian to your children Mr. Gibbs, of Wagga Wagga, and a man whom you had seen but once, and had never heard tell of since?—Yes, that is so.

Now I must ask you this, and be careful how you answer: Were not Jarvis and Angel intimate friends of Arthur Orton's father?—That I cannot say. It was Orton, I know, who suggested to me their names. They were known to him, no doubt.

What was it that Arthur Orton told you about Henry Angel, of Dorset, in England, that induced you to leave him guardian of your infant children?—Well, I don't know why it was. I picked him before any one else. I merely put in the names as they occurred to me.

What did he tell you of Angel?—I cannot remember. I don't think he told me anything more than the name.

Then the names were put in haphazard?—Yes.

Why did not you put in the names of two persons out ot the street?—I should have put in your name if I had thought of it.

The Solicitor-General: Then I should have declined the honour.

The Claimant: I do not mean any personal offence to you, Sir John, but I mean that the names were put without consideration.

Why didn't you choose two people of respectability at Wagga Wagga who were known to you?—I cannot answer.

If this is all trumped up, why didn't you choose two other names?—I cannot say.

Why, then, did you choose Jarvis and Angel?—Because they were suggested to me by Arthur Orton.

Where is Arthur Orton now?—He was at Wagga Wagga when I left.

Do you happen to know where he is now?—No.

You are as sure of that, I dare say, as you are of your own existence?—Yes, quite so.

Are you sure he is not in this court?—He may be for aught I know. It would puzzle me to see all who are here.

He was a friend of yours?—Yes.

Intimate?—Yes.

And you knew him at various places in Australia?—Yes.

Have you made inquiries for him?—Yes, I have.

Where did you hear of him last?—Near Albury.

When was that?—Some time ago—not since I have been in England.

That was the last time?—Yes.

Then your inquiries after him have been without success?—They have.

You have no reason to believe that he is in England?—None whatever.

Nor in London?—No; when I left Wagga Wagga, he was living at Albury.

He may have died the next day?—Well, I can't say anything about that.

Perhaps you will tell us now the places you went to in Wapping the first night of your arrival, after you had been to Ford's Hotel. You went to Wapping, but not to see your mother. What took you there?—Well, I had an address on paper.

Whose address was it?—Arthur Orton's father. I went there to make inquiries. I did not find his father. There was no one there.

Was the house pulled down?—There was no one there; it was empty.

Where else did you go?—I went into an inn close by.

Do you happen to know the name of that inn?—I do not. I had a glass of ale, but nothing stronger. The people at the inn gave me another address.

Ah! Whose address was that?—I think it was in the name of Tredgate, or something of that kind.

A man or a woman?—A woman.

Quite a strange name to you?—Yes.

Did you go to that address?—Yes, but found no one there.

Where did you go next?—I returned to Ford's Hotel.

Now, be cautious. Did you not learn that Tredgate was Arthur Orton's sister?—Yes, she was.

Did you get any further address of your intimate friend's family?—I don't remember any other.

Had you forgotten this incident of the Wapping trip when my learned friend examined you as to where you went after you landed?—I don't think I had.

I think you arrived in the docks about five o'clock in the afternoon?—I am not quite sure as to the time.

Then you went to Ford's Hotel, Manchester-street, and had your dinner?—I had a cup of tea, or something of that sort.

And in the evening, about nine, you went to Beaumont-street?—Yes.

And when you found your mother was not there you went to Wapping?—Yes.

All this was omitted in your examination in chief?—Yes, but my advisers knew all about it.

You prepared your own statement, you know, for examination. Did you put this little incident in?—I can't tell.

When did you prepare your statement?—Some months ago.

Surely you can tell me whether you put in anything about going to Wapping?—No, I cannot.

Did you go there before you went to Beaumont-street?—No, afterwards.

Did you put it in your statement?—I don't know whether I did, but you can look yourself. I expected my counsel would ask me the question this morning.

What time did you get back to Ford's Hotel?—About eleven, I think.

[A copy of the will was here handed to the jury for their perusal.]

Let me now call your attention to the letter of the 17th January, which was read yesterday. Who did you mean by your attorney?—Gibbs, I expect.

Have you any doubt?—No.

In point of fact, you wanted £400 to bring you home?—Well, I cannot exactly state the amount.

The brown mark on your side, and the incident about the card-case, were the two things you selected for the purpose of convincing your mother of your identity?—Yes.

When did the affair about the card-case occur?—About September or October, 1852. It might have been August. It was in one of those three months; but I cannot remember which.

I suppose it is the only time in your life you lost as much as £1,500?—No, I think not; but it may be the only time I lost £1,500 by cards.

What distinction do you draw between cards and play?—I must leave you to do that.

At what other game, then, have you lost £1,500? Now, upon your oath?—I don't think I shall answer your question; it has nothing to do with the case.

The Chief-Justice: Why?—I don't see why I should let the whole public know everything I have done in my lifetime.

The Chief-Justice: That is no ground for not answering the question.

The Solicitor-General: When did you lose £1,500 besides losing that sum at Brighton?—Well, I lost some at the Junior Gun Club some eight or ten months ago.

I mean before 1866?—I understood you to say in my whole lifetime.

Did you ever before 1866 lose £1,500 at cards or any other game?—No, not before that.

Then can you tell me the date of your loss at Brighton?—No, I cannot give you anything more precise than the months I have mentioned in 1852.

Whereabouts in the hotel did you lose the £1,500?—It was in a sitting-room, but I cannot say who engaged it. It was one of the Brooms, I know.

John or Harry?—Well, it was the one that kept the Opera Tavern in the Haymarket.

Were they like each other?—No, it was the biggest of the two—Harry, I think.

Then I understand you that Harry Broom was in the Bedford Hotel, Brighton, some time in the months of August, September, or October, and asked you to have a game at cards?—No, I did not say that; we had been together previously. I cannot say whether he or his brother John was staying at the Bedford. I don't think either Eccleston or Robins, two other of the party, were staying there.

You had been with both of the Brooms, then?—Yes, about Brighton; but I was only there three days altogether, if I remember rightly. I saw them each day, I think. Eccieston and Robins joined the party on the third day.

Were they the only people in the party?—No, there were others.

Do you recollect the names of Sladen and James?—No.

Does that seem to remind you of anything?—No, it does not.

You have a good memory for names, you know, and I will repeat them.—No, I know nothing of those persons whatever. I have no recollection of their names. I was staying at the Bedford, but the Brooms and I did not breakfast together.

Where did you go in Brighton?—We went to the races. The Brighton autumn races were on.

Where else did you go?—I can't say.

Did you spend the whole time on the racecourse?—No, it was probable that I went back into Brighton.

But I mean to what places did you go.—I can't recollect.

Was this your first acquaintance with Johnny and Harry Broom?—No, I knew Harry.

Did you know Johnny?—I don't think I ever heard of Johnny before that night. I had been in Harry's house, but never in Johnny's.

Well, you lost £1,500, you say?—Yes.

What money had you in your pocket to pay that sum?—About £40, I think.

From whence did you go to Brighton?—From Canterbury, viâ London. I passed the night in London—in St. James's-place, I believe.

When you spoke of the card-case you meant the incident at Brighton?—Yes; but it was intended for my mother, and nobody else.

Was it ever made public?—No.

Upon your solemn oath, now, and be careful, was there not to your knowledge a law case in 1852, arising out of a game of cards at Brighton, in which the Brooms, Sladen, and James, some of the party you have mentioned, were tried, and two of them sentenced for card-swindling there?—Upon my solemn oath, I know nothing about it.

Did you ever hear of the trial?—If I have I have forgotten it.

Have you ever heard of those persons having been tried for swindling a person named Ham of £1,600?—No, I have not, to my recollection.

Did you know there was a card case affair at Brighton in 1852, in which the two Brooms, Sladen, and James were implicated, and with respect to which Sladen and .lames were convicted of swindling a man named Ham of £1,600 in that year?—If I did I have forgotten it.

According to your account you were with the Brooms?—Yes.

If they were prosecuted, with two other people, in 1852, you may or may not have known of it then?—Just so.

The Chief-Justice:—The question is, whether you knew that the Brooms and two others were prosecuted at Lewes for card-swindling.

The Claimant did not answer.

The Solicitor-General: Do you know it?—You said so.

But do you know it—discharge from your mind anything I have said?—No, I do not.

And never did?—If I did I have forgotten it.

Now attend to me. Did you know a man at Wagga Wagga of the name of John Perrin?—I don't remember the name.

Was he not called on your behalf in the Australian Commission?—He might have been.

Don't you know that he was?—I don't know the name.

You don't know the name of John Perrin?—If you tell me I should.

Well, John Perrin, in his affidavit, states that he was a master butcher in Wagga Wagga; that he knew you as Tom Castro, and that he succeeded you in the employment of Mr. Elliott. He was called by your own attorney.

The Chief-Justice: The question is whether you know John Perrin?—Yes, my lord, I do; but I didn't know who he meant. I did not know the man by the name of Perrin. I knew him by the name of John only. I don't think he was in Elliott's employment at any time.

The Solicitor-General: Do you know a man named " John," who was called by your own counsel?—I know now the man you are sneaking of.

The Solicitor-General: I see it is stated in his affidavit, " Castro sued Elliott for wages, and I was present at the hearing of the complaint." Did you sue Elliott for wages?—I did.

Now, attend to me. Did you ever have a conversation with that man to this effect: " He (Castro) asked me it I knew the Brooms, Johnny and Harry, the fighting men, in England. I told him I did not know them, but had heard of them. He told me then that it was through them he had left England, and I asked how that was. He asked me if I had heard of the Brighton card-swindling case, and I told him no. He said he was the man who was swindled out of .£1,600 by the two Brooms and others. I said, in a joke, 'Who did you rob first?' and he replied, 'The £1,600 was my own; it was not so much to me then as 1,600 pence now.'" Did such a conversation as that pass between you?—No, certainly not.

Nor anything like it?—I will not say that I never spoke to him about the Brooms.

Well, is it untrue?—I believe it is untrue.

Utterly untrue?—Yes; an absolute invention of his. I can say that I never told him so.

But if you did not tell him, he must have invented it?—I think if you will read the remainder of his affidavit, you will see

I am on the card case at present. Perhaps you know the rest of it?—I knew there were several untruths in it, and things that I can contradict.

Then you know who John Perrin is?—No, I do not.

Is that last answer as true as the rest you have told us?—When you first spoke, I did not know who you meant by Perrin.

Now, just attend to this. Gibbs, you say, was your attorney. I am going to read you a letter addressed to him by Lady Tichborne:—

London, 17 Sep. 1866.

Mr. Gibbes,—I have made up my mmd to send the money, £400. They will forward it at the Westminster and London Bank, or rather the London and West Bank—where I bank, and if Sir Roger has sailed it must remain at the bank till further orders; it is sent to Sir Roger Chas. Tichborne. I did not know how to send it. I hope it will not make any difficulties. You say that I do not mention anything about the mark that he has on his left side. It is because I do not recollect it, and I do not believe I ever saw it; but it does not signify, as he may very well have had it without my knowing it; as for his preceptor, ho was one of the Christian brothers, and I think he may have made a mistake and thought he was a Jesuit: and he confused one with the other.

He told me when I was in Paris that if Roger was to come back he would of himself go over from Paris to have him acknowledge, as he knew him very well. He is very honest and very good-natured, and he said so because I said that after so many years absence there are sometimes difficulties which you do not expect. I think my poor dear Roger confuses everything in his head just as in a dream, and I believe him to be my son, though his statements differ from mine. There is one thing which struck me, which is, that in the photograph both him and you scent me he has the same small hands that he used to have. Roger had remarkably small and a very pretty hand, for a young man especially, and I think that in that photograph the hands are small. I remember when he was twenty it was very striking, and if you add thirteen years to it you will find, I think the same small hands that he had. That peculiar thing has done a great deal with me to make me recognise him.

As for St. Vitus' Dance, he never had that malady; but when he was travelling in South America, his servant wrote to me or to Sir James' agent, Mr. Gosford, that Sir Roger had Rhumation, and could hardly walk, but that he was better; I think again Roger has mistaken one thing for the other. I hardly like to write my ideas upon that subject. I do it because I know his disposition thoroughly, and it will not prevent me from recognising him for my son, though his statements differ from mine; but when you come to London yourself you will of course let me know more than I can know through a few lines in a letter. I will thank you to take all the in formations you can about his marriage, and who his wife was, and whether she has brothers and sisters; also, whether they have any fortune. All those informations I beg you to take before you sail. I have shown Mr. Cubitt's letter to my solicitor, and he says it is a very improper way of acting. Very unfair on poor Sir Roger, and also on me, as he does not even say the amount, and Mr. Cubitt knows very well my agreement with him was that the reward should be paid out of the estates and when Sir Roger was in possession of them; he ought to return the bills, or at least to give six months to give time to get money instead of 3 weeks. I will thank you to explain all that to Mr. Cubitt yourself before you go away. I trust you will excuse this long letter, but it is so important a business to me as a mother, that I am obliged to give you all these details.—I remain sincerely yours,

h. f. TICHBORNE.

I have also written to Mr. Turville to recommend my dear son to him. I remember Mr. Turville very well; I think the photograph very like Roger—at least to what he was when he was 20, always adding 13 years to it; for instance, he used to be very slim and very thin; now he has grown stouter a good deal than he was before he went away. I have not mentioned to anybody and I do not mean to say anything about Brighton, as I think it might turn people against him; but when you come we will talk that business over, and you had better not say a word about it to anybody. And you had better tell him not to mention it to anybody.

The Solicitor-General: Had you told Gibbs you were brought up a Jesuit?—I am not aware that I had.

Surely you must know whether you were so brought up or not?—No, I do not.

Did you not tell Mr. Gibbs that your instructor in France was a Jesuit?—I should think not; but I will not swear it, because I have no recollection of it.

Do you know the photograph here alluded to?—No, I do not.

Come, come.—Well, I must have time to answer the question, there were three, and I don't know which you mean. Some of them you have got retaken.

Just select out of this lot the two which you think may have been sent.—Let me look at those exhibited on the commission.

You have a copy, surely?—No, no (warmly). Let me look at those you exhibited on the commission.

You are in my hands now. You have produced certain photographs; why not produce them now?—Because I do not choose to do it.

The Claimant then examined the photographs, and pointed out two as those which most likely were sent to Lady Tichborne. The claimant then asked his lordship for permission to leave the court, being very unwell; and he observed that, if his request were complied with, he might be able to continue in the box for the remainder of the day.

Did you not tell your attorney, Mr. Gibbs, that you had been afflicted with St Vitus's dance from your childhood?—Certainly not.

Will you swear you did not?—I will swear I don't remember.

Have you looked at Mr. Gibbs's deposition taken by the Australian Comlission?—I have not read it.

Has it been read to you?—It has not.

Will you swear you did not tell Mr. Gibbs that you had had St. Vitus's dance?— have already sworn it.

Then if he has said so it is an absolute falsehood?—It is.

Can you account for his writing to Lady Tichborne to say you had told him you had had St. Vitus's dance?—No.

Did you tell John Perrin that before you left England you had St. Vitus's dance? Certainly not.

When you were coming home on board the Rakao did you meet two men named Hodgson and Jones?—I did.

Upon your solemn oath, didn't you say to both of these men that you had St. Vitus's dance when you left England?—Certainly not.

Then it must have been an invention?—It must.

Have you ever said it to anybody?—Never.

If you did say so, would it be true or untrue?—It would be untrue.

Do you happen to know whether your intimate friend, Arthur Orton, had St. Vitus's dance?—I don't know.

Did he ever tell you?—No.

Upon your oath, was Roger Charles Tichborne in Brighton in all his life?—Yes; I was there in 1852.

Was Roger Charles Tichborne in Brighton in all his life?—I have answered the question.

Upon your oath, did you not mean by the " card case at Brighton" the well-known case in which two men were prosecuted for swindling a man named Ham?—I did not.

Why did you call it " the card-case at Brighton?"—Because my mother would very well understand what I meant.

You have still the brown mark, I believe!—Yes.

It is 3 inches by 2½, you said; a great big thing? [The learned counsel here held up his hand.]—Your hands are bigger than mine. (Laughter.) I never measured it.

The Solicitor-General: Oh, I, of course, do not pretend my hand is as small as yours. (Laughter.)

It being now about half-past one, the claimant said he was much exhausted, and he wished for an hour's repose. After some discussion the Court adjourned to half-past two.

On the re-assembling of the Court the claimant's cross-examination was resumed.

In the first letter you wrote to the Dowager Lady Ticbborne in January, 1860, it stops at the words " You must send me." Is it perfect in its present state?—I have not seen the letter since I wrote it.

I ask you do you know that in its present form it ends imperfectly?—I did not notice that.

Look at the letter and see.—Yes, I see that it ends in that way. I am under the impression that it was not in that state when I wrote it.

In a letter from the Dowager Lady Tichborne to Mr. Gibbs, your attorney, she says, " My son, Roger Charles Tichborne never saw his grandfather. Sir James's father was dead before I married." Did you send a message to your grandfather?—No, I think not.

Will you answer you did not? Be careful.—I am careful. My object is to speak the truth, and nothing else. Mr. Seymour was my mother's father, and, if he was my mother's father, surely he was my grandfather. (Laughter.)

I ask you, had you sent a message to your grandfather?—It is impossible you can expect me to remember everything I have written and spoken? I say it is impossible for any man to do it. I will give you any information you require within my knowledge.

Have you sent a message to your grandfather?—I have given you my answer.

The Chief-Justice: Answer the question, it you can.

Claimant: I am perfectly well aware he wishes to bewilder me. My intention is to tell the truth.

The Solicitor-General: The question is a very simple one. Lady Tichborne says her son, Roger Tichborne, never knew his grandfather. Have you sent a message to your grandfather?—I cannot answer the question.

You won't swear you did not?—If you say I did it would be nonsense for me to say I didn't.

I repeat, have you ever sent a message to your grandfather?—I cannot answer.

The Chief-Justice: The question is quite plain and intelligible.

The Claimant: I do not know whether I did or not.

Do you mean to say that Roger Charles Tichborne ever in his lifetime spoke to Mr. Seymour as his grandfather?—I say I did, and my solicitor will tell you I always spoke of him as my grandfather.

That is what I want to know. Did you ever in your life speak to Mr. Seymour as your grandfather—I beg your pardon—Did Roger Charles Tichborne ever in his life speak to Mr. Seymour as his grandfather?—I say he did.

Did he address him as his grandfather?—I don't know, indeed.

Will you swear you ever—or, rather, did he ever—do it?—I don't think I ever did. I mean to say that in speaking to him personally I don't think I addressed him as my grandfather, but in speaking of him to other people I believe I did.

Tell me one single member of the family to whom you spoke of him as sucn?—Why, you are taxing my memory beyond the capability of man.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The Solicitor-General deals with this witness on the assumption that he is to speak for himself as two persons—one the person now in the box, and the other Roger Charles Tichborne. It is most embarrassing to the witness, and has no connection with the case. Everybody knows what the issue is.

The Chief-Justice: I do not think it is embarrassing, because he has always taken care to say " I."

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I do not think so. I think it is unnecessary, and most embarrassing. .

The Solicitor-General: These objections are always raised whenever there is a point.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I think that observation is most unfounded, and unworthy of counsel.

The Solicitor-General: I had not the slightest objection to my learned friend calling him' 'Sir Roger" throughout the examination.

The Chief-Justice: Mr. Giffard addressed him as Sir Roger in the examination in chief, and he has called himself Sir Roger. That is the issue of the case. I could not find any fault with Mr. Giffard or the plaintiff using the name " Sir Roger."

The Solicitor-General: My learned friend called him Sir Roger Tichborne throughout, which was the question in the case.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: If my learned friend assumes the existence of a second person, he has no right to ask questions about that person.

The Chief-Justice (to the jury): I am quite sure, gentlemen, that no matter what name is used, it would not influence your opinion.

The Solicitor-General (to witness): Will you swear that Roger Charles Tichbourne ever wrote to Mr. Seymour as his grandfather in all his life?—I cannot answer that question?

Don't you know perfectly well that in the Tichborne family the relationship of Lady Tichborne to Mr. Seymour was a thing carefully suppressed and never mentioned?— It is very probable you wish to expose it to a public court.

The Solicitor-General: It is you who first mentioned it.

Claimant (indignantly, and striking the board of the witness-box with his clenched fist): God forbid. I would sooner drop down dead this very moment than do it. (Applause in court, which was instantly suppressed.)

Who first introduced the question of Mr. Seymour being your grandfather?—You did, I should imagine.

Did you not say to me that you had mentioned your grandfather, and that as Mr. Seymour was your mother's father, you spoke of him as your grandfather?—What I said was, that if my mother stated that I never saw my grandfather, she was wrong.

I ask you again whether you don't know that the relationship of Mr. Seymour to the Dowager Lady Tichborne was most carefully kept quiet, and was not alluded to in the Tichborne family?—No. I am well aware that the Tichborne family kept aloof from my mother, but I don't suppose she lost much by it.

That is not the question. Will you swear you did not send a message to your grandfather?—I cannot swear that I did not.

Is it your impression that if you sent a message to either of your grandfathers it would be to Mr. Seymour?—Yes; but then he was dead before I left England, and I don't see how I eould have done that.

Mr. Seymour died in 1849, and Sir Henry Tichborne died in 1821. Will you swear that in the middle of that very letter which you asked us to produce there was not that statement about your grandfather?—I think I might safely swear that

Will you swear it?—It is hard to ask me to swear about it if I don't remember anything in the letter.

You know that in the letter there was only half a sheet, and that the other was torn off. Will you swear it was not in the part which was torn off?—I have no doubt it would please you very well to say so, but I will not swear it because I do not think so.

Did you hear the opening speech of your counsel, my learned friend, Mr. Serjeant Ballantine?—I do not think that I was present.

The Solicitor-General here read a long passage from Mr. Serjeant Ballantine's opening address, in which he alluded to the sealed packet given by the young Roger to Mr. Gosford. He then read passages from the evidence of the claimant, alluding to his supposed intimacy with Miss Doughty.

Now just let me understand when it was you say you discovered that your attentions to Miss Doughty were not acceptable to her father?—That is a very hard question to answer.

About what time now? Perhaps you could fix the time if I ask you, whether it was before or after you began to make arrangements about selling out?—It was about July.

Is that what you mean by " the latter end" of the year?—If you are going to catch me up like that, how can I go on? I can't fix it to a day or a month.

Can any man treat you more fairly than to read you your own evidence—questions and answers between you and your counsel?—I think you will find I never confined myself to dates throughout. I believe I have expressed that on several occasions.

You have never confined yourself to dates throughout?—Not to a month or a week.

I do not do anything so unreasonable as to ask you to do so. When I read from your own evidence that you said your attentions to Miss Doughty in the latter end of 1852 were disagreeable to her father, it is not with any intention of catching you, as you term it. Is this true, that is what I want to know? Well, isn't July the latter end of the year?

Is that what you meant then to say?—It did not occur to me what month it was in.

I am not asking you that; I am asking you whether what you swore to Mr. Giffard is true? Do you call July towards the end of the year?

I must repeat, is what you said to Mr. Giffard the other day true or not?—Yes.

Then you mean July?—I do not think I turned it over sufficiently in my mind. The jury will understand my meaning.

Never mind about the jury.—But I do mind about the jury; and although you are trying to confuse me, I do not wish vou to confuse them.

The Chief-Justice: The questions are very distinct, you observe.

The question was then repeated for a long time, the witness adhering to his original statement that the date in question was about August or July, and that he must have meant this when he spoke of the latter end of the year. Witness ended by saying " I am in perfect confusion."

The Solicitor-General (contemptuously)—Perfect confusion! Oh, stuff, don't talk to me about perfect confusion.

You say then it was in July or August. Is that what you swear?—Well, I don't say anything about swearing. I am not going to swear either.

Will you swear it was as early as that?—I am already on my oath, and if I swear it 500 times it will make no difference. I'll not swear it. If you know the proper date I do not.

But you must know whether it was summer, or autumn, or winter, when this matter happened which led to your discontinuing your visits to your uncle's house? Well, you seem to think so, and you seem to know better than I do.

Some things, perhaps, I do; but you must know whether it was in the winter, when the days were short and the snow was falling, or in the summer, when the sun was high and the roses were out?—No; I have only one thing I can take my date from.

What is that?—That is my business.

No, I beg your pardon, it is my business.—You say so.

What is it?—I do not feel in duty bound to tell you; if the Judge tells me I am bound to tell you I will.

The Chief-Justice: What is your ground of objection?

Claimant: It involves another party.

The Chief-Justice: well the whole question involves another party. That is no ground for your not mentioning the circumstance to which you refer.

The Solicitor-General: Now then, what is it?

Claimant: Am I bound to tell?

The Chief-Justice: Yes.

Claimant: Then I must be more careful for the future. I was paying my attention to Miss Hales, of Canterbury, at the same time.

The Solicitor-General: When?—That would be about September or October; but what are you alluding to?

Ah! you are a great deal too deep for me. I only want, to get a date from you. I ask you again, when was it you discovered that your attentions to Miss Doughty were unacceptable to her father?—About July or August.

How did you discover it?—I do not see how it is possible you can expect me to answer such a question.

Cannot you give me the slightest notion?—No, I do not think I can.

When did you last go there?—Well, I think it was a few days before I left.

When did you last see Miss Doughty before you left England?—Not for several weeks.

Were your attentions ordinary attentions, or were you paying your attentions to her?—Ordinary attentions, I suppose. I don't know how you draw the line between the two.

Do I understand you to say you are unable to define the difference between paying ordinary attention to a young lady, and paying your addresses to her with a view to matrimony?—Yes. What is private is a different thing.

There is no privacy here, sir. Miss Doughty is present, and let me tell you there is no privacy with her. Do you mean to say you were paying attention to Miss Doughty with the view of making her your wife?—Yes, I do.

Now tell me what it was led you to discover that your addresses were displeasing to the person whom you were wishing to make your father-in-law?—I do not know that I can do that.

Had you no explanations before you parted?—I do not remember.

Did you cease to pay attention to Miss Doughty?—No, I believe it was the other way.

She would pay no attention to you?—Yes.

Did you write to her after it was discovered that your attentions were displeasing?—It might have been so. I cannot say.

Upon your oath, did you or did you not? Now did you ever write one word?—What is the good of you asking me to swear when I say I do not remember.

Did you ever write one word to her? A man cannot forget whether he wrote to a girl whom he is trying to make his wife. Did you ever write a syllable to her?—I believe I did.

When?—When?

Yes, when? Was it after you ceased to go there so often?—Yes, I believe that was so.

When, or where?—I cannot remember.

You were paying attention to Miss Hales, of Canterbury, in October or September. You would hardly write then?—The probability is I have done so.

Did you tell Miss Doughty of your attention to Miss Hales?—Really, I cannot remember.

Had you any interview with Sir Edward or Lady Doughty upon the subject when this engagement was broken off?—Yes, I believe there was an interview.

When, and with which?—Well, I fancy it was Lady Doughty.

Not Sir Edward?—No.

Did he speak to you about it?—Yes, afterwards.

After when—after July and Angust?—It would be about that time.

A man does not easily forget the breaking off of such an engagement, or the interviews he had with the parents of the person whom he wished to marry. What passed between you and Lady or Sir Edward Doughty?—I do not remember.

Did it make no impression upon you?—I think not.

Didn't go very deep into you, then?—I cannot answer such a question as that, you know.

Did the matter grieve you?—I have no doubt I felt it.

What did you do in consequence?—I went abroad afterwards.

Where did you see Lady Doughty?—In the drawing-room at Tichborne.

Was she alone?—Miss Doughty was with her.

You say you can remember this. Now tell us what passed, because you were a good match, you know for her, being the heir of the Tichbornes?—You seem to know more about it than I do myself.

I do not often agree with you, but on this occasion I agree with you entirely. Just try and come up to the level of my knowledge. Why were your attentions displeasing?—I cannot say now.

What reasons did Sir Edward and Lady Doughty give for your attentions being displeasing to them? You can remember the spigot being taken out of the watertub, and the patterns on your shirts. Surely you can remember this?—I have given you my answer, and if you stop here all night I give you no other.

Then you mean to say you cannot recollect upon what grounds the engagement with Miss Doughty was broken off?—Yes.

Have you forgotten?—I suppose I have. I expect the first objection was that we were first cousins.

Is that the ground, do you think?—I think it was one of the objections.

Tell me another, or was there merely an objection that the engagement was unpleasant, and must be broken off?—Yes.

Then there was no regular breaking off at all? I do not say this to catch you, but I wish to know whether it was an absolute discussion and a determination arrived at, or an understanding arrived at without scarcely any talk?—There was not much talk about it.

You say you visited there again at intervals. Did you?—Yes.

With Sir Edward and Lady Doughty's knowledge and invitation?—I do not say so much about that.

Try and remember, will you?—When I went to the neighbourhood after that, I put up at the Winchester.

Do I understand you to say that you never went to Tichborne House after the engagement was broken off?—I did not say so.

I think you said you went there, but not often?—I believe I did.

And were received by Lady Doughty as usual?—Lady Doughty at Wardour I think, at the time.

Am I to understand that you were received there but not on so intimate a footing as usual?—I believe that was so. I believe I went there, but I am not aware whether I dined there.

Did you sleep there?—I think not.

The Solicitor-General repeated the question, but the witness said he was fatigued, and could not do himself justice.

The Chief-Justice—The questions are very simple. You are asked whether you went to Tichborne after the engagement was broken off.

Claimant: I went there to visit, but I think I did not stay there.

The Chief-Justice intimated that the Court would now adjourn, and invited the learned counsel on both sides to confer with him in his room as to the selection of a larger building for the hearing of this case.

The Court then adjourned till Monday.

EIGHTEENTH DAY. — MONDAY, JUNE 5.

SEVENTEENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued.

The Solicitor-General: I understood you to say on Friday that it was in September or October, 1853, you were paying attentions to Miss Hales?—Yes.

Was her mother alive?—Her aunt or her mother was.

Did you ever see her aunt or mother?—Yes.

What was her aunt's name?—I don't remember at the present moment.

We have had good proofs of your memory. You remember the marks on your shirts and handkerchiefs seventeen years after they were sent to the wash, and surely you can hardly fail to recollect the name of this lady.—I don't recollect; but I have no doubt I can tell you before I leave the box.

That is very likely, but I want to know it now. I want to know your present memory. What was the name?—I don't recollect it at present.

What was the Christian name of Miss Hales, the young lady to whom you were paying your addresses?—I don't remember at the present moment.

Do you mean to say you don't recollect Miss Hales's Christian name?—Our acquaintance was very short.

Had she got a mother?—I think not.

Is it your recollection that she had no mother alive?—To the best of my belief she had not.

Why did you say a moment or two ago, " Her mother or her aunt "?—Because I spoke from memory.

Had you been thinking cf your shirts and your pocket-hankereliiefs all that time? You remember them better than your washerwoman, and surely you can tell me who the person was with whom the young lady to whom you were paying your addresses was living?—It was with her aunt.

Not her mother?—No.

How old was Miss Hales?—She was between 17 and 18.

Was she an only child, or were there other children?—I saw no other children in the place.

Now I will inform you that her mother, Mrs. Hales, is alive, and I ask you, on your solemn oath, if you ever saw Miss Hales in your life?—Certainly; several times.

Did you ever see Mrs. Hales?—I saw an elderly lady, and I was under the impression she was either Miss Hales's mother or her aunt.

"Where did yov see Miss Hales?—In her own house, in the presence of the lady who was there.

Do you mean Mrs. Hales?—Probably it was.

When did you first see your cousin, Miss Doughty, after you discovered that your attentions to her were disagreeable to her father?—About the latter end of October or November.

What passed between you?—Really I cannot recollect. To the best of my recollection we had a conversation about my uncle's behaviour. I told her it was quite impossible I could marry her after what my uncle had said to me.

Where did the interview take place?—At the lower end of the village of Tichborne. I had just returned from hunting, and had just got off my horse. I met Miss Doughty, and walked alongside her.

You leading your horse?—Yes.

You cannot recollect what she said?—No.

[At this stage of the proceedings a rush was made in a passage of the court by persons who were endeavouring to effect an entrance.]

The Chief-Justice: If there is any more disturbance I will have the passages cleared. The inconvenience to which parties concerned in the case are subjected is already quite enough, without having it still further increased. I am sorry to say there is little or no hope of obtaining better accommodation. I have not a moment's peace of mind from morning till night, on account of the hundreds of applications sent to me by persons who wish to hear the proceedings. From the time I left this court on Friday until I came on the bench this morning I was completely inundated with applications. In fact, before I am dressed in the morning and before I go to bed at night I am asked to attend to them, and at last I was obliged to have a circular letter written as an answer to the applicants. Having made the best arrangements I can for those admitted, I am assailed by a crowd of assertions of privileges which do not exist. I cannot undertake to answer applications made to me. The seats on the bench form the only portion of the court over which I retain disposal. All the rest of the court is for the parties interested and for those for whom room can be obtained.

Cross-examination resumed: Were you staying at Tichborne when you had this interview with your cousin?—No, I was staying at Winchester.

Do you mean to tell the jury that what you have told us is all that took place at the interview?—No; but what I want to state is, that there are matters which I should be very reluctant to state in a public court. If I do so, it will be because I am compelled to do so.

I told you before there are two parties to be affected, and on the part of the other one you are free to speak. Be good enough, therefore, to answer the question: Is it all you recollect?—We had a long conversation on the occasion, but that is all I can recollect of it.

When did you see her next?—No answer.

The Chief-Justice: This is a very important matter, and one which has been referred to by your own counsel. What passed between another person and yourself, and which nobody else could be aware of, is very material. If you can recollect anything else, say so.

Claimant: It is impossible for me to recollect the whole of a conversation which took place twenty years ago.

The Solicitor-General: Nobody asked you to do so. When did you see Miss Doughty next?—I never saw her after that.

Did you not see her after the end of November, 1852?—I think not.

After the engagement was broken off, you saw her once, and once only?—Yes, {Addressing the learned judge): My lord, there is one part of my evidence given on Friday which I wish to correct. I said that it was Miss Doughty who broke off the engagement; at least I saw by the papers I said so. That was wrong.

The Solicitor-General: Well, do I understand you to say you broke it off?—It was my uncle broke it off.

What is it you want to correct?—It was me who broke it off, by her father's command.

When you were going away did you see Miss Doughty?—I am pretty well sure I did not. Lady Doughty wished me to go to Tichborne and bid my uncle good-bye, and she went to Wardour herself because she would not see me.

If Lady Doughty asked you to go, why didn't you do so? Because I didn't think my uncle behaved properly.

Did you write to Sir Edward or Lady Doughty about this conduct?- I might have written to Lady Doughty, but I am certain I didn't write to Sir Edward.

The Chief-Justice: Do I understand you to say there was an actual engagement between Miss Doughty and yourself?—It was an engagement, my lord; but it was not known to my uncle, and when he heard of it he was very angry.

The Solicitor-General: Can't you tell us whether you wrote to your aunt to remonstrate about the matter?—At this distance of time I cannot say whether I wrote such a letter.

You cannot have any doubt about it.—I have told you I cannot say; and now you tell me I have no doubt about it.

Nobody would know this matter but yourself and Lady Doughty. Bogle could not know that. Will you undertake to say you ever wrote a line—?— I told you before I cannot recollect. That's an insolent insinuation, and is intended to convey a bad impression to the jury.

No; It was intended to convey tho impression in my

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine protested against the observation of the Solicitor-General.

The Chief-Justice (to the Solicitor-General): We should get on better if you would go on with the question.

The Solicitor-General: Were you ever at Tichborne House after that?

The Claimant: I think I was.

Did you see Miss Doughty?—I think I did not. To the best of my belief did not.

Do I understand you to say your last parting with your cousin was in the village when you were leading your horse?—I think it was.

At that time, the matter, I understand, had been broken off?—Yes.

And by you it was never renewed?—No. Whilst we were walking through the village I promised that if she were single when I came back I would marry her.

Did the Doughtys know you were going abroad to stay away until your father died?—I did not tell them. I told Mr. Gosford. I made no secret of my intention to go away.

Was it your intention to stay away until your father died?—To the best of my recollection it was.

Surely you must remember that. You picked out the model of a boat from four or five, and you must remember this?—I have no doubt of it.

Did you tell Sir Edward and Lady Doughty what your intentions were? I never told either of them. I believe I did not.

But you must remember?—I am speaking of twenty years ago. It is impossible for me to remember.

You know you remembered all about the shirts and handkerchiefs?—The shirts and handkerchiefs seem to hurt your feelings very much. (Laughter.)

No, they do not; but it you know all about them perfectly well you ought to know whether you told the father and mother of the young lady whom you wanted to be your wife that you were going abroad, and would not return till your father died.—I cannot say.

Did you Bee Gosford before you went away?—Yes: I saw him in Cherrington in November.

Had you signed your will?—I signed it the same month, but I cannot say whether it was after or before I last saw Gosford.

Did you consult him about your cousin?—I wrote a paper in his presence. The words were my own, and I read it over to him. I sealed it up and gave it over to him.

Did you give a copy of it to your cousin?—No; I told her the purport of it.

Do you recollect writing to any one saying, " My private wishes and intentions, I intend to carry them out if I live, I wish to confide to Mr. Vincent Gosford "?—I think that is in reference to the will.

It cannot be, because you say, "if I live." Were there any other private wishes and intentions which you left with Mr. Gosford than those in the paper?

Mr. Serjeant Ballatine: Let the Solicitor General read the whole letter from which he is quoting.

The Chief-Justice: It would be destructive to cross-examination if the whole of every letter referred to were read.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: My objection is to portions only being read; it is impossible for him to understand the context.

The Chief-Justice: If you do wish it I will have it done.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: That is what I wish.

The Solicitor-General: I protest against these frequent interruptions, they are most embarrassing.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I beg to say that whenever I think the Solicitor-General is cross-examining in a mode unfavourable to the claimant, I will not hesitate to submit the matter to your lordship's decision.

The Chief-Justice: I hope my brother Ballantine will consider once or twice before he makes the objection, and then, perhaps, that would put an end to it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I will not submit to any imputations from the Solicitor-General.

The Solicitor-General (to Claimant): Now that you have had plenty of time to consider your answer to the question—

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: That is most improper.

The Solicitor-General: I repeat the observation. (To the Claimant): Did you leave more than one paper to Mr. Gosford?—I left two papers in one packet.

Had they both reference to the same thing!— No, they had not.

In your affidavit, made on the 14th February, 1868, you say that a sealed do tument relating to your cousin Catherine Doughty was there too. Why did you say only one?—When I referred to the document I meant the packet.

Look at the affidavit (produced), and tell me whether the word "documents" was not first there, and whether the "s" was not afterwards struck out?—It certainly appears so.

Did you ever leave anything else to Mr. Gosford besides these two documents in writing?—I think not.

Was there any other packet or document, or anything in the nature of a private instruction, except the matters contained in the document which you left with Gosford?—I don't remember any.

Surely you don't want me to remind you again of the shirts ana pocket-handkerchiefs? You must recollect whether you left any private wishes and intentions except those mentioned in the sealed packet?—I don't know exactly whether you want to catch me. Are you alluding to a letter, or do you mean whether I left a second document like the first?

My question is this: In your affidavit you say you confided to Mr. Gosford the carrying out of your private wishes and intention; but you also say you will do certain things under circumstances which you have left with him in writing. I ask you simply was there any other document containing private instructions, except those in the paper?—I think not.

I must liave an answer one way or the other.

The Chief-Justice: This is not a new matter. You have distinctly made an affidavit which has been referred to. That affidavit, before it was sworn to, appears to have been altered. There is then a letter to Mr. Slaughter referring to your wishes and instructions, and a letter to Mr. Gosford referring to certain things which are to be done under circumstances which you leave in writing. The question is, were there any private papers or instructions beyond those in the sealed packet?—No, I think not, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Was this one entire document, or was it two separate documents, with two separate beginnings, middles, and end?—It was on two sheets of paper, and all my instructions to Gosford were in that.

Had they all reference to your cousin, Miss Doughty?—Not the whole of them. There was mention made about the estate in part of it, and of my cousin in part of it.

When you saw Gosford, did he ask you if you remembered leaving him a sealed packet?—He did not. He asked me if I remembered having left anything with him, and I told him.

Did you hear him swear in the Court of Chancery that he had burnt it some thirteen years before?—I did. He swore once that he destroyed it in 1844, no. 1854. nd then —

The Solicitor-General: I don't want to catch you.

Claimant: And then he afterwards swore that it was in 1859. (Laughter.) I remember it was a long time before he answered the question. Mr. Hawkins, his counsel, asked him to say" Yes" or ''No," and then he said "Yes." (Laughter.) He was fully five minutes before he answered the question. (Renewed laughter.)

The Solicitor-General further questioning the claimant as to the evidence of Mr. Gosford and their reading that part in which he (Gosford) stated that he destroyed the packet in question, said:—In your affidavit you say that in the month of March, 1853, you sealed up and placed in the hands of Mr. Vincent Gosford a sealed document written by you and relating to your cousin, Miss Katherine Doughty. You request Gosford not to open it except in certain events, one of which you know has not happened, and the other you hope has not happened. "What is the event which you say has not happened?—My return before her marriage.

Is that what you swear?—No answer.

Question repeated.—I don't know what I alluded to when I swore to that affidavit.

Do you mean to tell the jury you don't know what you moan by that!—It must have been my return.

Will you swear it was?—I don't like to swear to things of which I have not a perfect recollection.

Question repeated.—(After a pause): I think it was my death. I feel sure of it.

Not the event of your not returning before she was married?

The Chief-Justice: What was the event you referred to in your affidavit, which you said you knew had not happened?—It would have been my death.

The Solicitor-General: It would have been?—I am under that impression.

Are you sure?—I feel quite sure.

Will you swear it?—No, I will not, for my memory is not distinct enough for the purpose.

Do you really mean to say that you are only under the impression that the event of which you spoke was your death?—I feel quite certain.

Will you swear it?—I will not.

The Chief-Justice: You know, if you are certain about it, you can swear to it. If you have a doubt about it, you needn't.—I am certain.

The Chief-Justice: Then you can swear to it?—Yes, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: What made you say you referred to Miss Doughty's marriage?—I could not remember what it really was at the moment.

The Solicitor-General: "What is the event yon hoped had not happened?

Claimant: I have said there are some matters which I am reluctant to speak of. have written it all down, and it is in the hands of my solicitor.

The question was repeated.

Claimant: I do not wish to answer it publicly. It is not for my own sake I do not answer.

The question was again repeated.

Claimant: You ought not to compel me. It must be on your own head.

The Solicitor-General: I repeat the question again. What is the event you hoped had not happened?

Claimant?—The confinement of my cousin.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to swear before the Judge and jury that you seduced this lady?—I most solemnly to my God swear I did. (Sensation.)

The Solicitor-General: This lady (pointing to Mrs. Radcliffe, who sat by the side of her husband, immediately below counsel)?—Yes; that lady.

The Solicitor-General: Let it be distinctly understood Mrs. Radcliffe is here by her own wish.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Parties are equal for the present.

The Solicitor-General: When and where did it happen?—At the Mill.

When?—Not long after I came from Ireland.

When?—About the month of July or August.

Of what year?—'52.

Give me some nearer date than that.—It was about the latter end of July or the beginning of August.

Was it before or after the breaking off of the engagement by Sir Edward?—Before.

You say this took place at the Mill. "Where is the Mill?—Almost facing the house, in the village of Tichborne.

What time in the day?—About four o'clock in the afternoon.

What day in the week?—I cannot tell you that.

Were you staying in the house? I was.

How long before the engagement was broken off?—About a week or ten days.

Do you mean to pay that you left your cousin with child? No; I don't say so.

You left, you know, in March, '53? I know I did.

You say you seduced her in July or August, and before the breaking off of the engagement?—Just so.

You have told me you never saw her but once after that, and then in the village?—Just so.

And you spoke to her about her confinement?—I didn't say so.

Do you mean to say so?—She wished to impress it on me.

When and where did she tell you?—To the best of my belief when I met her in the village after I had been hunting.

Will you swear it was?—Yes, I will.

The claimant here handed a letter to the Chief-Justice, who, having read it, gave it to the Solicitor-General for his approval.

The Chief-Justice: In substance it is an application for an adjournment. (To the claimant): For how long?—Ten minutes, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: Let it he a quarter or an hour.

The Solicitor-General: There must be no communication, my lord.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We don't want it any more than you.

The Chief-Justice: The best course is to depute one from each side to see that there is no communication.

An adjournment for a quarter of an hour then took place, an usher of the court attending the claimant. At the termination of that time the cross-examination was resumed.

The Solicitor-General: Did you make any arrangement to communicate with your cousin from abroad?—Yes; I told Gosford when I went away that any letters I might send I should entrust to his care.

Was it before you left England in March, 1853, or was it in November, 1852, that you left this sealed document with Gosford?—It was in November or December, 1852.

Then, how came you to say that you wrote it and sealed it just previously to your leaving England?—I call that " just previously."

Did you ever make any inquiry during the year 1853 whether the event which you hoped had not happened had happened?—No.

Did you make any further inquiry after your left England?—No.

Did you make any inquiry between November, 1852, and March, 1853, when you went away?—No; I have spoken of it, I have no doubt, to Gosford.

Did you leave this country in March, 1853, uncertain "whether the young cousin whom, as you say, you had seduced, was about to have a child or not?—No; I don't think I did.

What do you mean by that answer?—I don't think I left without making inquiries.

You have told me you don't remember you did. I ask you again did you leave here in the month of March, 1853, without satisfying yourself that this young girl was about to have a child?—I never thought she was, myself.

That is no answer. Did you make any inquiry?—I don't think I made any direct inquiry.

The Solicitor-General here handed to the claimant, separately, five closely-written sheets of letter.paper, and asked him if the handwriting was his?—He replied that he had no doubt the first was in his handwriting; he did not believe that in the second was his; the handwriting in the third was his (he first said it greatly resembled his handwriting); and he also believed that the handwriting in the fourth, fifth, and sixth sheets was his.

The Solicitor-General said that the second sheet which he had shown the witness, and which he (witness) said was not in his writing, was one of those which he afterwards recognised as having been written by him.

A. Juror: He simply said he did not believe it was in his writing.

The Chief-Justice: And he was not allowed to read it over.

The Solicitor-General: Is the signature in that letter (produced) yours?—Claimant: It is; unless it is a fac-simile.

The Solicitor-General: Nobody wants you to swear to anything more than your belief.

Claimant: Detectives have been watching me for the last four or five years, and that is the reason I am so particular.

The Solicitor-General: That does not affect your handwriting.

The Solicitor-General then read a letter from ltoger Tichborne to Miss Doughty. It was dated the 4th of February, 1852, and began:—" My dearest K, you have asked me for the last two days to write my thoughts. I shall try and satisfy your wish on that point, now that my thoughts are somewhat calmer now than they were during the day. I have, as you may suppose, much to think of at present. The nature of my thoughts are, I grieve to say, of a very painful and melancholy nature." He stated that he suffered much anxiety on account of his uncle and his father. He referred affectingly to the breaking off of the engagement and to his uncle's ill health, and went on in a hopeful, religious strain to refer to his "trials." which he said he would try to bear without a struggle. In one part he said, " Things went on happily until the day I was sent for by my uncle when I was at breakfast. What took place between us I think it unnecessary to repeat, as you know it already. I was obliged to leave next morning by the first train for London i never felt before so deeply in my life what it was to part with the only person I ever loved. How deeply I felt I cannot express, but I will try and explain as much as I can in the next chapter."

The Solicitor-General then read another letter, dated 5th February, commencing with the words,—" It breaks my heart, my own dearest Kate, to find how long I shall be without you. What I feel, none but I can tell. You have the comfort of a home and some persons to whom you can speak, but I have none, and am thrown to the world without a friend; but, however, I shall try to take courage. I hope when you will see me in three years you will find me changed for the better. I shall occupy three years in trying to reform my conduct, and become all what you wish to see. I shall never, my dearest Kate, forget the few moments I have spent with you; but, on the contrary, I will always consider them the happiest of my life. You cannot imagine how much pleasure your letter has given, me," &c. The letter was couched in loving terms; and he stated that nothing would prevent him but very active service from coming back from India; and he continued, "It will be a great pleasure, my own dearest Kate, to think of you when I am in India; and if you wish me to come hack I shall not be five minutes longer than I can help in returning. Rest assured, my own dearest Kate, that if in any situation of life I can be of any help or service to you, I shall always he too happy to render it." It concluded with the words, " From your affectionate cousin," but was not signed. Both letters were couched in language denoting the strongest affection.

The Solicitor-General also read the two following letters:—

My Dearest Kate—I give you my word and honour that I never will, from this day drink a single drop of spirits of any kind whatever.—I remain your very affectionate cousin.

Feb. 15, '52. 3 o'clock in the afternoon.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

22nd June, 1852.

I make on this day a promise that if I marry my cousin Catherine Doughty this year, before three years are over at the latest, to build a church or chapel at Tichborne to the Holy Virgin, in thanksgiving for the protection which she has thrown over us, and in praying God that our wishes may be fulfilled.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

The Solicitor-General: Now, sir, upon your solemn oath, do you mean to say that you seduced the young lady to whom Roger Tichborne wrote these letters?

The Claimant: On my solemn oath I did. I regret very much that you should make me say so in a public court, but I cannot help it.

The Solicitor-General then read a letter from Roger Tichborne to Mr. Slaughter, dated January 5th, 1852, touching the disposal of his property. The writer stated that it was his intention shortly to go abroad; it was his wish to complete certain arrangements with regard to his estates. In the event of his death, and his brother Alfred succeeding to the title, he prescribed how the Doughty estates we're to be left. Out of these estates Alfred was to receive £2,000 a year, with an additional sum of £1,000 on his marriage. He desired that certain incumbrances then existing on the estates should be paid off as quickly as possible. The Doughty estates he wished particularly to leave by will. His private wishes and intentions, he stated, he had contided to Mr. Vincent Gosford, with a request that he should act with him Mr. Slaughter) as trustees and executors of his will.

A Juror: What was to follow the letter?—The will.

The Chief-Justice: Are you satisfied it is in your own handwriting?—Yes, it is in my handwriting.

Now, what was contained in the sealed document?—There were certain instructions as to the repair of the Prior Dean cottages, and instructions—

The Chief-Justice: You drop your voice. Instructions as to what?—Instructions, my lord, in the event of Miss Doughty being confined.

The Solicitor-General: Well, what else? Anything more than that?—Yes, there were full instructions in the event of my uncle and father's death.

What else?—To make preparations for Miss Doughty to go to Scotland.

Anything else?—To prepare Upton House for her.

What else?—Yes, a great deal more, but really I cannot bear the whole of it in my mind.

The Solicitor-General: You have written down the substance of the sealed document; is there anything else in it?—Well, my counsel have it.

When did you write it out?—Yesterday evening.

Who was with you?—Mr. Spofforth was in the room.

Who else?—Nobody.

Now look at it—it will refresh your memory—and see if you have told us the whole of what is in it.

Claimant looked at the document, and said: It is the substance of what I have told you.

Was there anything else in it?—Yes; instructions about the estates, and lots of things—a deal more than what I can remember now.

Quite separate from the question of Miss Doughty—things that were to be done whatever might happen to Miss Doughty;—No, I think not; there were instructions about the estates. If you have any objection to my handing this paper to the jury—

The Solicitor-General: Just answer to my question.

The Chief-Justice: There is no objection to his handing it to the jury.

The Solicitor-General: Very well, my lord. (To the Claimant): Tell us the substance of this document?—I have already told you.

Is there any other subject beyond what you have told us?—Yes, he was to keep the Home Farm on.

Anything else—any other serious subject to be dealt with?—I don't remember any just at this moment. I have told you the substance according to my memory at the present.

I do not want it word for word, but merely the heads of it.—(Claimant did not reply.)

The Chief Justice: In answer to Mr. Giffard you have said that you were prepared to give the substance. Is there anything else beyond what you have stated?—I cannot state anything else, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: The paper is dated Cheriton, November, 1852. You wrote it out of your head, you know, yesterday. Now, just dictate it again?

The Chief-Justice: So that I may write it down myself.—Yes. If it proved true that my cousin was enceinte—

The Solicitor-General: You must give us the very words.—"You are to make preparations to take her to Scotland."

The Solicitor-General: Yes, yes.—Well, I hear you.

The Chief-Justice: The question is, whether you can now state in words what you wrote last night.—If I were sitting in my own room no doubt I could, my lord, but in this court I cannot.

The Solicitor-General: We have got so far as going to Scotland. What next?—I gave instructions that he was to prepare Upton for her.

The Solicitor-General: Your learned counsel has told us tnat you were able to repeat the contents of the sealed packet. Now tell us.—I have already repeated the substance. The paper I wrote yesterday is the substance of the contents of the packet alluded to as being in the possession of Mr. Gosford.

The Solicitor-General: Well, I will read the paper which you wrote yesterday:—

Cheriton, Nov., 1852.

If it be true that my cousin Kate Doughty should prove to be enciente, you are to make all necessary arrangements for her going to Scotland, and you are to see that Upton is properly prepared for her until I return or she marries. You are to show great kindness to her, and let her have everything she requires. If she remains single until I come back, I will marry her. In the event of my cousin's death, you are to take charge of the estates on my behalf, to keep the Home Farm, and to repair the cottages at Prior's Dean.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Is that substantially the substance of the document?—Yes.

And there is no substantial thing left out of it!—I don't remember anything else at the present moment.

In the envelope of the sealed packet, you have said, were two pieces of paper. Does this document contain the substance of what is written on both?—Oh, no.

Well, what is the other?—Well, I cannot remember everything.

You said, in reply to your own counsel, that you are able to substantially repeat the contents of the whole document. Now, I ask you does the document produced contain the substance of both the pieces of paper:—I have already given it to you.

The Chief-Justice: Then be good enough to repeat to us what was in the other document?—The paper I wrote yesterday may be the substance of all the papers for aught I know.

The Solicitor-General: Was there anything else contained in the packet?—Well, there must have been, because there was a good deal more writing than what you have there.

In answer to the Chief-Justiee the Claimant said—I don't say I can tell the whole contents of the document. I don't think I said so: If I did, it was under a misapprehension.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to say that you did not know the meaning of the word "substantially."

Claimant: If substantially means the whole of the contents of the packet, I was under a misapprehension when I answered.

Do you call what is in the packet two documents or one?—I should call it one document on two sheets of paper.

Are you able to give us substantially what was on those two pieces of paper?—I have given you the substance of a great portion of it.

Is there any material part which you have not given us the substance of?—If there is I don't remember it at the present moment.

Did you refresh your memory yesterday with any other papers? I did not. I was resting on the sofa very unwell when Mr. Spofforth came. In fact, at first I did not know he was there. He merely requested me to write the document, and I did so without his saying a word.

The Solicitor-General: Had you any papers to assist you?—None whatever.

The Chief-Justice: Did you ever before last night attempt to write a similar document?—Yes; I think I wrote out the substance of the packet about three years ago.

The Solicitor-General: Why did you do that?—At the request of my counsel.

Have you a copy?—I believe it is in their possession.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter sent by Roger Tichborne to Gosford:—

Paris, 17th Jan, 1852.

My dear Sir,—I arrived in Paris yesterday, I hope yon have received the letter which I have written to you at Manchester. It was such a misfortune you were not able to come and see me, I left London by the first train to be able to spend some time with you. I arrived at Winchester at a quarter-past nine o'clock, and left at a quarter past 12 o'clock. I have written out my will, and left it with Mr. Slaughter. The only thing which I have left out is about the church which I will only build under the circumstances which I have left you in writing, Mr. Slaughtor told me he hoped to have a scheme ready by the time I come back. I do not live here in my mother's house, but have taken up my lodgings at the Brighton Hotel. I find that way of living much better. It gives mo more liberty. I shall leave Paris on Monday, the 26th of this month, and embark the very same night at Southampton, at which place I arrive next morning. .... I little expected three weeks ago that my visit to Tichborne would be cut short as it has been. Hut, however, such has always been the case with me ever since I was born. It is not new to me, but not less painful, &c.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

The Court then adjourned for luncheon (the time being extended from a quarter-of-an-hour to half-an-hour), and previously to leaving the box the claimant said that he should keep to his promise not to speak to any person outside. On the re-assembling of the Court he said that a person had attempted to speak to him, but he had declined, by waving his hand. The person, however, gave him a letter addressed to Lady Tichborne, whieh he would hand to the Court for perusal.

The Chief Justice: Is your wife in Court?—No, my lord.

Then give the letter to somebody who is connected with your case.

The Claimant: I claim the letter as belonging to Lady Tichborne, but I have no objection to your lordship opening it.

The Solicitor-General then read the copy of the document to which reference had been made respecting the claimant's previous written account of the sealed packet. It was as follows:—

In the event of my father being in possession before my return, or dying before my return, he (Gosford) was to act for him according to instructions contained in the document. In the firs place, he was to have Upton to live at, and there to manage the whole of the estate. He was to keep the home farm in hand, and show the greatest kindness to my cousin Kate, and let her have everything she required. My cousin gave me to understand she was enciente, and pressed me very hard to marry her before I left. I did not believe such was the case, nor have I since heard it was. I always believed it was said for to get me to marry her at once. For this my father try and persuade me. It allso refer to the village at Prior's Dene. He (Gosford) was to have the cottages repaired, and also to improve the estate in general. Was also to make arrangements for Kate to leave England if that was true. Both Gosford and wife pressed me very hard to marry her at once. Other items matters of no consequence. I do not think Mrs. Gosford knew about Kate.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

The Chief-Justice having inspected the document, said it was endorsed by Mr. Holmes, who wrote across it that he received it in August, 1862, from Sir Roger Tichborne (claimant).

The Solicitor-General: You know that Mr. Gosford was cross-examined in August, 1867?—He was examined immediately after myself. I don't remember the date.

In the letter to Mr. Slaughter was there anything said about the will?—No, the will had been prepared before January, 1852.

You have sworn that the will was executed in June, 1852?—No doubt that was the date. I was rather confused, my lord, as to dates.

Then there were instructions in the letter about your will?—Yes.

In the letter you give certain instructions in the event of your death. What have you to say about that?—I have nothing to say whatever.

The Solicitor-General: Then don't say I have not given you a fair opportunity Now in your letter from Paris you say you have written out your will, and left it with Mr. Slaughter; and you say you left particulars about the church with Mr. Gosford. Do you wish to make any explanation of that?

The Claimant: I do not, none whatever.

The Solicitor-General: Then don't say I have not given you a fair opportunity. On your oath, now, did Roger Charles Tichborne ever see Katherine Doughty after June, 1852, when the letter was given to her promising a chapel to the Holy Virgin, and before March, when he left?—On my oath, I did.

You mean to adhere to that?—Yes.

You have heard those letters which you have identified of the 4th and 5tb of February. Have you any explanation to offer?—None whatever

Yon adhere to your statements of Friday in the face of those letters?—Yes, but I have told you before I don't pretend to be correct about dates.

The Chief-Justice: Then you adhere to your statements as to the time when your engagement was broken off.

The Claimant: Yes, my lord, I have spoken the truth as far as I can speak from memory.

Do I understand you to say that at this moment you have no tattoo marks upon you at all?—None, to my knowledge.

What do you mean by that?—Can you have tattoo marks without you knowing it?— I have none. I have been examined by several medical men, and they can find none.

What I want to know is whether, at this time, the 5th of June, you have any tattoo marks?—None whatever.

Would you mind showing the jury the part of your arm where the burn has been?

[The claimant bared his left arm, and showed the scar, about four inches above the wrist.]

How came that?—I cannot tell.

The Chief-Justice: What is about the size of it?—About the size of a sixpence.

How came that scar?—I have no remembrance. I had no knowledge that I had the scar until my arms were searched for tattoo marks.

You have the mark of a seton also. Where is that—On the left shoulder blade. I should think the medical testimony will best prove that.

The Solicitor-General: Is it above your shoulder?—Perhaps the best way will be for me to pull my shirt off, and let you look at it. (A laugh.)

No, I don't want to trouble you so far as that, but is it above your shoulder?—It is.

Whereabouts is the scar at the back of your head?—It is somewhere about here (pointing out a place at the back, on the right side), but I really don't know exactly where it is. I don't know how to describe it to you—you are so particular.

Now about your ankles. Where are the marks on them?—There are marks inside both ankles.

When did you have your ankles examined?—It is sometime ago since Dr. Sutherland examined one ankle first—the right, I think, but I cannot exactly remember. Mr. Lipscombe examined me subsequently. The left has been examined since.

I don't think I offered to show both ankles to Dr. Sutherland.

How came it that first of all the left leg was examined and the right was not, and when the right was examined the left was not?—I don't know that it was so.

Well, how came you to he examined at all?—It was at the request of my advisers, and in consequence of what M'Cann said.

Was M'Cann present?—No.

Why did you not show Dr. Sutherland your other leg?—I cannot tell you why.

Were you aware that you had marks on both ankles?—No, I was not.

When did you become aware of that?—When Dr. Sutherland examined me again. When he made his affidavit he stated that he had seen the scar on the left foot, but, finding that he was mistaken, he wrote to Messrs. Baxter, Rose, and Norton asking for another interview.

Do you recollect the bleeding at Canterbury!—No, but I remember the illness. I don't think much of a bleeding mark. It is generally well in twenty-four hours—at least, it is so in my experience.

The Solicitor-General then read from the claimant's affidavit's in Chancery as to his residing in Paris. Which was the last place in which you resided when there?— The Rue de la Madeleine.

Can you tell me what books you read when you were being instructed by M. Chatillon, your tutor?—No; they were books which were generally read in those days.

What were they?—I don't remember.

Can't you give me the name of a single book you read with your tutor?—No; I cannot just now.

Just give me one?—I cannot; they were the general books of the day, spelling books and the like. I don't know who the books were written by.

Can't you tell me the name of any book you read?—No, I can't; they were the ordinary books.

You were brought up in Paris till you were 15 or 16? —Not quite so long as that.

The Chief-Justice: Did you read any Latin, French, or Greek books?—I did not commence to read Latin or Greek before I went to Stony hurst.

The Solicitor-General: You say in your affidavit that you thought Chatillon taught you Latin?—No, he did not teach me Latin; he merely taught me reading, writing, and geography.

What else?—Nothing.

How long was he your tutor?—Four or five years.

From eight or nine years of age until the time you went away from Paris?—Yes.

Now—reading, writing, and geography. Can't you remember anything else that he taught you I don't remember anything else except grammar.

Will you give me the name of a single book lie ever used with you?—I don't remember the name of one.

The Chief-Justice: In the previous examination I see you state that he taught you a little Latin, but that you do not remember the names of any of the books you read?—No, I do not, my lord.

Did you read any history of France or England?—I don't remember the name of anything.

Mine is not an extravagant request—the name of one book?—I wish I could give you one as you seem so very anxious, but I can't at the present moment.

The Solicitor-General: Yon can't give me the name of a single book?—No, I cannot.

Can you give me a single subject?—Well, he taught me arithmetic, but not much of that above simple division. I don't remember, but I know that I was very bad at it.

Whom did you know in Paris?—Chatillon, the Bremonts, and some of their connexions.

Are those the only people you can recollect?—I did not say so.

Did you know M. De Lisle?—I think not.

Did you know M. Jolivat?—I think he was a boy who used to come to Chatillon's house.

What was his age?—I think he was younger than I.

What was his name?—I don't recollect.

Was it Charles?—No.

Adrian?—No; I can't recollect his name.

Did you know General Joubert?—No.

Did you know M. Dupanloup?—No; there were a great number of persons whom I saw, and whose names I cannot remember.

The last I have mentioned is rather a famous man; he is Bishop of Orleans. Do you remember him?—No; I probably knew him.

Why probably?—I met the Bishop of Orleans in 1867 in Paris.

I mean when yon were a boy?—No; I don't remember.

Did you know M. Lafonet?—No.

Did you know M. Deranzer?—Yes. (To the learned Judge): I feel very exhausted now. I do not feel capable of going on. I have the certificate of a medical man stating that I was injured by standing so long the other day.

The Chief-Justice: It would be more satisfactory if the medical man was called.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The medical man is not here, but he can be called to-morrow morning.

The Solicitor-General: The jury will understand that I do not wish to detain the claimant if he is unwell.

The Chief-Justice (to the Claimant): You can retire.

The Court then adjourned at a quarter before four till the next day.

NINETEENTH DAY.—TUESDAY, JUNE 6.

FIGHTEENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued: We were speaking yesterday of the various people you knew in France. Did you know M. Ravignan?—I don't remember him.

Did you ever know the Abbé Sallice?—Yes.

How did you know him?—I met him there.

What was he, or what did he do?—He was my mother's confessor.

Had you anything to do with him?—Yes; I saw a good deal of him.

What had you to do with him?—I went to my duty to him several times.

You mean you confessed to him?—Yes.

Was he your regular confessor?—He was.

When did you last confess to him?—Not since I left in 1845.

And up to 1845 you confessed regularly to him?—I didn't say "regularly," but so far as I confessed to anybody I confessed to him. I knew him well.

Did you know General Crémieux?—No.

Were there many military men that Mr. Tichborne knew?—I didn't know many.

Yu don't recollect seeing General Crémeux?—No, I do not.

Did you know M. Corneille?—I don't know.

Nor a gentleman named Mandreville?—No.

Did you know M. Bossent?—I don't remember.

You can't tell me any of the books you read with M. Chatillon?—I can't.

Look at that piece of paper [produced], and tell me whether it is the handwriting of Roger Charles Tichborne.—Yes, it is.

It read thus: " I enjoy the life of Réné. He knew how to take his sorrows with courage and keep them to himself, retired from all his friends to be more at liberty to think about his sorrows and misfortunes and bury them in himself. I admire that man for his courage; that is to say, the courage to carry those sorrows to the grave which drove him to solitude." Who was Réné?—That is an extract from " St. Nicholas."

St. Nicholas of what?—It is a religious book.

Who was St. Nicholas?—He was one of the saints.

What sort of a saint was St. Nicholas? When did he live?—I said it was an extract from a book called " St. Nicholas."

Who wrote it?—I don't know.

You say in the piece of paper, " I admire that man for his courage." Is that an extract from " St. Nicholas?"—The first part is evidently in my own words.

Which part of it is an extract from " St. Nicholas?"—When I say " an extract," I mean it is written from reading " St. Nicholas."

In what language is " St. Nicholas" written?—It is written both in French and English.

Is it a tale, or what?—It is a life of St. Nicholas, the saint.

How came Réné to come into it?—I don't know. I'm sure.

" Who was Réné?—He was a king of France at one time.

Was he one of the recent kings of France?—No; he was not.

One of the witnesses in Australia has said that you were very fond of reading novels?—It does not follow that it is true because he says so.

Were you?—No.

Perhaps you know the history of Margaret of Anjou, the daughter of Réné?—I don't remember what it is.

Who was the Réné you so much admired?—How is it possible for me to tell you?

Then you don't know?—I don't.

To the best of your belief this piece of paper is an extract from the " Life of St. Nicholas,'' with some bit of your own added?—No; the paper is evidently written from something I have read.

That is very plain. What I want to know is, what is the allusion? You say it is an extract from " St. Nicholas." Which is Roger Charles Tichborne's own composition?—I decline to answer a foolish question of that kind.

The Chief-Justice: Answer the question.

Claimant: I have explained as well as I can. I said it was written from a book I have read.

The Solicitor-General: Where was it that you were reading the " Life of St. Nicholas?"—I can't tell you.

Look at that book (produced), and tell me whether the handwriting in it in Roger Tichborne's?—I don't think it is—I don't think it is my handwriting.

Have you ever seen the book before?—I believe I have.

Where?—I can't say.

Assuming for the purpose of the question that you are Roger Charles Tichborne, is this your book?—I believe it is.

It is a volume of Chateaubriand relating to Réné. Look at the handwriting again and see if it is yours.—I don't know.

You know you admired the life of Réné and admired the man. Do you think you could read the last page of " Réné?"—I don't profess to do it.

The Chief-Justice: Do you mean to say you could not read it in French?

Claimant: Yes, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: You don't mean the translation?

Claimant: No, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: You cannot read French at all?—I cannot; I have entirely forgotten it. I cannot even read my own letters written in French.

Is that so?—It is.

Did you send the piece of paper I have read and produced to Lady Doughty so late as 1852?—I can't answer.

Have you any doubt that you were reading Chateaubriand's " Réné" in Canterbury in 1852, and that you wrote on this piece of paper in that year?—If Lady Doughty says so I know it must be true.

I don't care what Lady Doughty says. Is it true?—I don't remember.

Do you. mean to say that you cannot read one line of Chateaubriand's " Réné . No, I can't.

Look at that book, and tell me have you any doubt that the Réné you alluded to was the Réné about whom Chateaubriand wrote a tale. Do you recollect the story of Réné?—No.

You don't know he was a man who went to the desert to escape the sorrows of an unfortunate life and to die there?—No, I don't. I don't remember the contents of the book.

Assuming the general purport of the story by Chateaubriand, have you any doubt that the Réné mentioned in the piece of paper is that Réné?—It is so difficult to answer the question; you ask me about things I have no recollection of.

To the best of your belief, what do you think about it?—Possibly it might have been.

What on earth made you say it was the Life of St. Nicholas?—I was under that impression.

You say you cannot read any French. Have you forgotten everything about your French?—Entirely.

What! Even the alphabet?—Yes; everything.

The Chief-Justice: Do you know the pronunciation of any of the letters? Claimant: No, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: That is what I was going to ask. You anticipated my question, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: I wasn't going to anticipate.

The Solicitor-General (to Claimant): Some days ago you said you belonged to the " Ah " (A) troop of cavalry. Pronounce it.—In all foreign countries A is pronounced "Ah," and it is pronounced so in Ireland.

Did you speak other foreign languages besides French?—I spoke Castilian.

That is the finest Spanish—the very best article, like gunpowder tea and imperial Tokay? (A laugh.)—I cannot say; it is Spanish.

A Juror: Where any man is amongst Spaniards and speaks Spanish well, the saying is he speaks Castilian.

The Solicitor-General: I am much obliged to you. (To the Claimant): Then you have lived much amongst Spaniards?—Really I don't know what you mean.

A juror said—

Claimant: The juror didn't allude to me at all.

Where have you obtained your knowledge of Spanish?—I have lived in Peru, Chill, and in the Argentine Republic.

The Chief-Justice: In the what? I didn't catch the last part of your answer.

The Claimant (very warmly): Your lordship is very sharp upon me, somehow or ether, and I feel in duty hound to say so. Since I have been in the box the other side have not required any counsel at all. Your lordship seems determined that justice shall not be done to me, and I feel in duty bound to say so.

The Chief-Justice: I must request you to be deceut and becoming.

Claimant: I feel in duty bound to say so.

The Chief-Justice: I must ask you to repeat the answer. You said I have lived in something, and you did not finish the answer.

Claimant: I don't know what I did say.

The Solicitor-General: You have lived with Spaniards in bonth America?—Yes, for intervals of eighteen months during my whole life.

Was that the only opportunity you had of speaking opanisn?—That was all.

Had you any knowledge of Spanish before you went abroad?—I don't think so, I may have understood a word or a line.

Your Spanish was picked up from travelling in countries where the people spoke it?—Yes.

Are you aware that the real Roger Tichborne had four or five tutors besides Chatillon?—He had nothing of the kind. I had nothing of the kind.

Should you be surprised to find that the person whom, as you said yesterday, you thought to be a little boy brought by Chatillon with him at your lessons was your own tutor for more than a year?—He was nothing of the kind.

Would you be surprised to find that Roger Charles Tichborne went to school with Mons. Dupanloup in Paris?—I tell you I never went to school till I went to Stouyhurst.

Would you be surprised that M. Coronay was a tutor of Roger Charles Tichborne?—Nothing of the kind.

Would you be surprised that M. Lafonet was the person who preparea Roger Charles Tichborne for first communion, and was his confessor before he left Europe? I don't think so.

Do you remember the church in which you took your first communion?—I think it was in the Madeleine.

Who was the curé of the Madeleine?—I can't remember.

Do you recollect who attended with you at your first communion?—No, I don't.

Do you recollect anyone giving you anything on the occasion or your first communion?—Yes.

Who?—I don't know who it was.

What was it?—It was a piece of one of the late cardinal's dresses.

What was the name of his eminence?—I don't know.

What part of the dress was it, and what was the colour?—It was a red piece of cloth, about the size of the top of my thumb.

How did it come to you?—It was fixed on a bit of paper with some writing on it.

What was the writing?—I don't recollect.

Was it a kind of relic?—Yes.

You'll excuse me, because I don't belong to your religion; but can you tell me was he a canonised cardinal, or saint?—Yes, I think he was.

Can you remember the name of the canonised cardinal whose robe was cut off, and had a piece of paper with some writing on it?—I cannot.

Did he go by the name of Cardinal, or was he Saint somebody?—Cardinal, I think.

What became of the red piece of cloth?—I have it in my possession now.

Where is it? I should like to see it.—It is somewhere in my house.

Can yon send for it?—I cab bring it to-morrow.

Is there any one you can send for it now? You can easily get it, you know. It is a relic, and must be in some known place.—It is banging up in one of the rooms of my house.

Is it framed?—It is.

[It was here arranged that Mr. Spofforth, one of the agents of the plaintiff, should go for the relic.]

Mr. Serjeant Ballantino took occasion to observe that the claimant must not feel annoyed at the questions being repeated, as the difficulty of hearing was so great.

Claimant: I have no doubt I have been very hasty, and I apologise, my lord.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am very glad he has done so without advice.

The Chief-Justice: I wish to hear no more about it.

Do you remember by whom this red piece of cloth was given?—No.

Did you leave it behind when you went to South America?—I did.

In Lady Tichborne's custody?—Yes.

Was it always framed?—I don't remember.

You cannot remember anything else being given you?—No.

Did you give anybody anything else on that occasion?—I don't remember.

I must apologise for asking you, but I believe the first communion amongst Roman Catholics is made a great deal of? —Yes.

Is there a good deal of preparation for it?—Yes; a certain amount.

That is the case with regard to communions in all churches. What I mean is, is there a good deal of preparation in the Roman Catholic Church for the first communion?—Yes, there is.

Who prepared you for it? The Abbé Salice, your confessor?—No; I think not.

Who else?—I don't remember.

What was the preparation?—The ordinary preparation.

But then, you see, I don't know what the ordinary preparation is. I don't belong to your communion. What was the preparation? What books were used?—The ordinary prayers and answers.

Out of which book?—" The Garden of the Soul."

In French or English?—Both.

Is " The Garden of the Soul" in French?—There is a translation of it.

Is there a French translation of the English Roman Catholic Book, " The Garden of the Soul?"—I don't say that. There is a French book the same as the English.

Is there a French translation of " The Garden of the Soul?" —I believe there is.

Will you swear there is?—No, I won't.

Were you prepared for communion alone, or was there anybody else with you?—Alone, I believe.

By whom you can't remember?—No.

The Chief-Justice: At what age were you prepared for communion?

Claimant: I think about 8 or 9, my lord, or from that to 10.

The Solicitor-General: Did I understand you to say that the preparation consisted of your saying your prayers and giving answers?—It was learning my duty. It consists of prayers and answers.

What were the answers?—Answers to the prayers.

What were the questions?—I didn't say answers to questions.

What were the answers?—Answers to the prayers of the priest.

Were the prayers read out from " The Garden of the Soul"?—Really, I can't answer that.

Do you remember a man named Goussent?—No; but the name is familiar to me.

Was not Goussent the confidential valet tor many years of Sir James Tichborne, the father of Roger Tichborne?—Certainly not.

Wasn't he with him from 1829 to 1845?—It's false.

The Chief-Justice: Had your father a valet?

Claimant: Yes, my lord; but that's not the one.

The Solicitor-General: Who was your father's valet?—He had two or three.

Who was his maitre d'hôotel?—I don't think he had one.

The only relatives you had in Paris were Charles and Edgar de Beaumont, and their relatives.—Yes.

Did you know the Nangles?—Of course I did; they belonged to my father's family.

The De Beaumont family were your mothers family, and the Nangles your father's?—Yes.

How were the De Beaumonts connected with your mother? What relation was the baron to your mother?—Her uncle.

On her mother s side?—Yes.

Then Edgar and Charles were your cousins first removed?—Yes.

You say you knew the Nangle family. Was there anyone ot them you knew more than the rest?—Yes; I knew Caroline Nangies better than her brothers.

Was that the only young lady of the Nangles' family?—Yes.

Had she any sister?—I don't remember.

Did you see much of her?— Yes; I used to see her frequently.

Were you at all intimate with her?—No, not more than an acquaintance.

Do you recollect her being prepared for first communion —No.

Do you recollect anything that passed about it?—No.

Were you present?—I cannot Bay I was.

Do you recollect that you did anything?—.No.

Was her mother your father's sister?—Yes.

She was your first cousin, and surely you can remember whether you were present at her first communion?—I cannot.

The Claimant appearing very ill,

The Solicitor-General suspended his cross-examination, and the learned Chief-Justice allowed him to retire for a short time. On returning.

The Solicitor-General asked him if he felt able to go on.

The Claimant said he would try to go on; but in his present state he was afraid he was unable.

The Chief-Justice: You must understand if you do go on, that it must not be said on a future day that it was cruel to compel you to go on, which is the expression you used the other day. Be good enough to consider that you have the option to go on or to'retire at any moment you please.

The Claimant: I am willing to go on, but I don't feel sufficiently well to do so.

The Chief-Justice: Well, then, you are not fit to go on. Would jou like the court to adjourn for half an hour?

The Claimant: Yes.

The Chief-Justice: Let it be so.

The Solicitor-General said that the illness of the claimant placed him in a very painful position. He was obliged to do his duty.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that it was impossible for the Solicitor-General to behave kinder than he had done, and he felt the difficulty in which he was placed; but both of them having had a communication from Mr. Henry Johnstone, a medical, man, on the subject, that morning, they knew that the claimant might reasonably be suffering, and suffering very greatly.

The court then adjourned for half an hour, at the expiration of which time the claimant returned, and

The Solicitor-General asked him if he was better and able to proceed.

The Claimant: I will go on, but I will not be answerable for anything I say to-day. I am in such intense pain.

The Chief-Justice: Then there is no alternative but to adjourn.

The Claimant: If you let me go home now, and be attended by the doctor, perhaps I may be ready by to-morrow.

The Solicitor-General: It is important that the cross-examination should he proceeded with; on the other hand, it is equally important not to give the witness the slightest shadow of an excuse for saying that he has been unfairly treated. I would suggest that two medical men—one on each side—see him to-day, and then we could determine whether it would be best to adjourn the court for some little time in order no give him an opportunity of recovery, and then go right on. This would obviate the necessity of future adjournments, and probably save time in the end.

The Chief-Justice: It would also be a considerable saving of expense.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine admitted the force of that objection, and observed that if the cross-examination were pursued to its end, probably it would have the effect of shortening the case on one side and the other.

The Solicitor-General: While it is of great importance that the cross-examination should be proceeded with, I am anxious that there should not be the shadow of an excuse for saying that the witness had been unfairly treated. I would suggest that two medical men—one from each side—should see him to-night, and we might then see whether an adjournment for a little time wonld not prevent the necessity of these partial adjournments, and enable us to proceed uninterruptedly.

The Chief-Justice: And a saving of considerable expense would be also effected in that way.

The witness was then allowed to retire. lie seemed to be in a very weak and exhausted state.

The Chief-Justice: Is it impossible that our time can be utilised in some way?

The Solicitor-General: I am sincerely of opinion that no time will be lost by this course. I believe that pursuing the cross-examination is the shortest course and the best.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Whatever will be the result of the cross-examination—and we cannot anticipate that—it may make the case shorter either on the part of the plaintiff or defendant. I entirely agree with the suggestion of the Solicitor-General.

The Chief-Justice: No doubt the case will be materially affected by the conclusion of the cross-examination.

The Chief-Justice said several aged witnesses had died during the progress of the ease, and that as others might not live he would suggest that their testimony and the testimony of the foreign witnesses might, if they were obliged to have a long adjournment, be taken before a Master, in the presence of himself and the jury.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said the suggestion would be considered.

Here Mr. Spofforth brought the relic to which the claimant had referred into court, and it was examined by counsel and the jury. It was in a small black frame, and contained some writing, with a very minute bit of cloth on one side.

Ultimately it was arranged that the claimant should be seen by Mr. Henry Johnstone and Mr. Quain, and that they should report on the state of his health; that the court should adjourn over Wednesday, and that the jury should attend at ten o'clock on Thursday morning, unless they were communicated with by the solicitors in the meantime as to a further adjournment.

The Chief-Justice suggested that the parties should consider whether, in the event of the claimant not being in better health when they next met, the time of the court might not be usefully employed in reading the depositions taken under the different commissions.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine promised that this suggestion should also be considered

The Solicitor-General said the earnest and simple desire of himself, and he was sure also of Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, was to get to the end of the case as soon as possible.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine was afraid the prospect of its termination seemed still remote.

The Court then adjourned till Thursday.

TWENTIETH DAY.—THURSDAY, JUNE 8.

NINETEENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

Before the commencement of the proceedings,

The Foreman of the Jury intimated to the learned judge that the jury experienced considerable difficulty in following the evidence in a manner satisfactory to themselves, and requested that copies of the short hand notes, which were printed day by day, should be handed to them.

The Chief-Justice said that at present the notes were imperfect, inasmuch as reference was made in some instances to documents which were not embodied in them. However, he thought there could be no objection to their being availed of for purposes of reference as regards the evidence of particular witnesses.

The Solicitor-General said there were no copies of the previous day's proceedings except those in use.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine found one, and handed it to the jury.

The Claimant said he had requested his solicitors to keep a copy for himself, and it was entirely at their service.

The Solicitor-General said that he was afraid the short-hand notes would not be sufficiently accurate for the jury, especially with reference to the names.

The Chief-Justice said that that might be so, hut any one who had heard the evidence given would be able to detect those little inaccuracies at once, and would not be misled. He had no doubt the jury had read the reports in the daily journals.

A Juryman said that they had read those reports, which were marvellously accurate, especially the Telegraph, Standard, and Times, but each in its own way conveyinpr a good idea of the case; but still thev would prefer an authorised report.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that the report in the Daily Telegraph was not only accurate, but almost verbatim.

The Solicitor-General was understood to be raising the question of the cost of printing the extra copies required, when

The Juryman said that, as far as expense went, the jury would pay for them themselves. Their services there were gratuitous.

The Chief-Justice said that the expense of striking off a few extra copies would not be worth consideration.

It was then arranged that copies of the notes should be supplied to the jury daily.

The Chief-Justice then mentioned that he had received the medical report as to the condition of the claimant's health; and attaching due importance to the statements contained in it, it had occurred to him that it would be advisable to have two adjourn ments each day—one for a quarter of an hour at a quarter to twelve, and the other tor half an hour at a quarter to two. From what he had learned that morning he believed the claimant preferred going on till one o'clock, and then adjourning for an hour.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine suggested that the plaintiff should without any formality be allowed to leave the court whenever he felt ill.

The Chief-Justice saw no objection to the course. The reason he had fixed a particular time was that, at some critical point of the examination, the claimant might ask to be allowed to retire.

The Claimant said he preferred an adjournment from one till two,:is it would give him a little time for rest, and enable him to partake of luncheon.

It was accordingly agreed that an adjournment for an hour would take place at one o'clock each day during the further examination of the claimant.

The Chief-Justice said he was happy to state that the Lord Chief-Justice of England had kindly offered to place the Court of Queen's Bench at his disposal at the close of the present term. He had accepted the offer; and they would, therefore, on Monday go back to that court.

The Solicitor-General requested his lordship to convey the thanks of the counsel to the Lord Chief-Justice of England.

His Lordship: The public is much indebted to the Lord Chief-Justice, because there is absolutely no accommodation here.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued: I think you said the other day that you received your first communion, as I believe it is the rule in your Church, when you were 8 or 9 years of age, or from that to 10?— Yes; about that.

You know enough of your forms of religion to know that that is about the time at which such things are done?—Yes.

When this piece of red cloth which we have seen was given to you, was it in the same state as it is now?—I believe so.

And the certificate was put to it?—Yes.

I perceive the words, " Belongs to Roger Charles Tichborne," on the back of the frame.—I never looked at it.

Look at it now. Whose handwriting is it?—I could not say.

Whose handwriting do you believe it to be?—It looks like Lady Doughty's. I don't say that it is.

You said you left it behind you with Lady Tichborne when you went to South America.—I either did that or left it at Tichborne.

You said on the last day that you left it in Lady Tichborne's custody.—I don't remember exactly where I left it.

Where did you find it when you came back?—In Croydon, I believe.

Do you really mean to say you never knew that the words, " Belongs to Roger Charles Tichborne," were at the back of the case until I pointed them out to you?— I do.

Was this given to you at your first communion hy some parson whom you don't remember?—I can't exactly remember. It was given to me by some person about that period.

What made you say " Yes" when I asked you if you remembered anything being given to you at the time of your first communion?—I don't think I was answerable for anything I said then.

I see on looking at the certificate that it is dated the 15th of July, 1843, and I find that the piece of cloth was taken from the blanket of St. Charles Borromeo in the room of a convent at Milan, in which he took his " retreat." You would have been more than 14 in 1843?—No, 13.

You were born in January, 1829, so that you would have been more than 14 in July, 1843. You said that when you received 5our first communion you were 8 or 9, or from that to 10. Do you mean to say that this which was given to you in 1843 had anything to do with your first communion?—I don't remember.

Question repeated.—I can't say whether it was given to me at my first communion or not; it might be at my confirmation.

There is. no fixed time for confirmation in your Church, I believe? I think not.

When were you confirmed?—I don't know.

Were you ever confirmed?—I was.

When?—I told yon just now I don't remember.

Can't you recollect the bishop who confirmed you?—No.

Where were you confirmed?—In Paris.

In what church?—I can't tell.

You were confirmed, and you cannot tell the bishop or the church?—No.

You know that on Tuesday you told me the relic was given to you on the day of your first communion, but you will not fix that as a date; and therefore I now ask you when and where it was given?—I don't recollect.

Don't you recollect when the relic of St. Charles Borromeo was given to you, or by whom?—No.

Neither the time nor the occasion?—The time is on it.

Ibeg your pardon; that is the certificate of a Roman Catholic digitary, who certifies that it is a relic of St. Charles Borromeo. It has nothing to do with you. When was it given to you?—Some time before I left Paris.

Have you any other relics?—No.

Then if that is the only relic you have I think you ought to be able to tell me when you received it?—No.

Allow me to remind you that you were able to tell your tailor all about the buttons on one of the jackets he had made for you. You can surely tell when you received the one relic you ever had?—I didn't say that I never had others. It is the only one I possess now.

Have you had a great quantity? — No.

You, who remember your tailor 's bill, the shape of your coats, the colour of them, -and the buttons, must be able to tell when and where you received a relic of St. Charles Borromeo?—There is a lapse of years since I got it.

Yes, and so there is a lapse of years since you wore those buttons. Then you can't tell me?—I can't.

We have got rid of the relic now. Will you tell me whether you have any recollection of anything being given to you at your first communion?—No.

Did you yourself give anything to any friend of yours on the occasion of the first communion—your own communion, or your friend's communion?—I don't remember.

Did you ever give Miss Nangle, one of your cousins, anything?—1 don't remember: I may have done so.

You told me on Tuesday that you picked up Spanish during the time that you were in the Spanish colonies in South America. Was that right?—Yes.

Did you know Spanish before you went away?—No.

You picked it up by travelling through, the country?—Yes.

Before leaving, did you make any preparations for learning Spanish?—I might have read Spanish books.

You could not have read Spanish books unless you knew Spanish?—I meant a Spanish and English dictionary.

Do you mean to say that on your way from England to South America you read Spanish dictionary?—I had one.

Did you study it?—I read part of it.

Was it in 1854 that you went to Australia?—Yes.

You spoke and wrote letters in French up to March, 1854?—Yes.

You spoke French easily, and with the fluency of a man who had been brought up in Paris sixteen years?—Just so.

Did you discontinue talking French when you went to Australia?—Yes; entirely.

Did you keep up your Spanish?—There were two Spaniards at the Boisdale station.

Did you speak Spanish to them?—A sentence or two; I could not speak it fluently.

Did you speak it from the time you landed at Melbourne till you returned to England?—Yes.

Where?—At Wagga Wagga and Boisdale.

More than a sentence or two?—Not much more.

And at long intervals?—Yes.

You returned to England in 1866, passing three weeks at Panama:—Yes.

What did you speak there?—English, and sometimes a little Spanish, when I could not find myself understood.

Then you found you were able to speak Spanish so well as to be understood?—I was there three or four days before I could make myself understood.

Then when you came to England you retained a little Spanish?—Yes.

And had lost the great quantity of trench?—Yes.

You have never been in a Spanish colony since?—.No.

Did you try to brush up your French when you went to Paris after your return?— No.

So that, although you were brought up in France for sixteen years, and spoke and wrote the language fluently, and although you did not learn Spanish till 1853, you know a little Spanish and have entirely forgotten your French?—Yes.

That is really what you say?—Yes.

You knew Paris very well.—Yes, but my recollection of Paris has almost entirely gone. It is a part of my life I never care about looking back at.

Do you know Vaugirard?—No.

Do you know where it is?—In France.

Would it surprise you that Vaugirard is a suburb of Paris, where Roger Charles Tichborne went to school for a year?—I never went to school at all in Paris.

Not where Monseigneur Dupanloup, the Bishop of Orleans, kept a school?—No.

You said that the Rue de Ferme was the first place you lived in. Will you swear that Mr. and Mrs. Tichborne ever lived in the Rue de Ferme in all their lives! No I won't: my recollection is so bad that I won't swear to it.

When Mr. Giffard, your own counsel, asked you the first place you remembered, why did you say the Rue de Ferme ?—Because I believe so.

What makes you have that belief?—It is impressed on my mind, or I shouldn't have said so.

But you won't swear it?—No.

Let me remind you of what you said on another occasion. You made an affidavit in Chancery on the 5th of July, 1867, and upon being cross-examined on that afterwards, you appear to have said that the first place you remembered in Paris was the Rue de Madeleine. What made you say so?—I spoke from the impressions on my mind.

And when you were examined by Mr. Giffard the impression on your mind was that the Rue de Ferme was the place?—Yes.

They both can't be correct. Which is right?—I can't say.

Don't you remember where you first lived in Paris?—My recollection of Paris is gone.

I must trouble you to see whether it is entirely gone. You were sixteen years there you know. In 1867 your impression was that the Rue de Madeleine was the first place you lived in, and in 1871 you think it was the Rue de Ferme. What occurred between these years to alter your impression?—I can't tell you.

You can't tell me which impression is right?—No.

Will you swear to a single residence your father and mother had in Paris between 1829, when you were born, and 1845 when you came to England?—No answer.

Not, one?—I don't recollect.

You won' t put me off in that way. Do you mean to say that you, a boy of sixteen years of age in 1845, cannot tell the jury one single place in Paris where your alleged father and mother lived?—They lived in the Rue St. Honoré.

Will you swear that they did?—Yes.

When did they live there?—I don't ask you within a month, or even a year, but about when?—I have no recollection of what year it was in.

I have told you I don't ask you within a month, or even a year, but I ask you about what period of those sixteen years of your life was it that your father and mother, as you call them, lived in the Rue St. Honoré?—Towards the latter part.

Do you mean before or after 1840?—After.

Will you swear to it?—No, I won't.

Can you recollect in what part of the Rue St. Honoré they lived?—Opposite the Hotel de Louvre.

Could you see the Hotel de Louvre from the windows?—Yes.

Between 1840 and 1845?—I have no recollection.

Do you mean to say you could see the Hotel de Louvre from your window?—Yes.

Do you mean to say that one brick of it was laid in 1845?—I don't know when it was built, I'm sure.

Will you swear that you saw the Hotel de Louvre from the windows of your father and mother's house?—You said after 1845.

The jury will judge. I carefully asked whether it was between 1840 and 1845, and you said you believed it was after 1840. Now, I want to ask you whether a single brick was bunt before 1845, and you say it was not before 1845 that you spoke of. Is that your answer?—It is.

Do you remember that your father and mother lived in any house from the windows of which you could see the Hotel de Louvre?—I cannot swear to anything, my recollection is so bad.

But the Hotel de Louvre is as big as St. Paul's, you know. Surely you can tell us whether you saw the windows of the biggest hotel in creation?—I won't swear, because you are trying to confuse me, and my head is in a very queer state.

Don't say that I am trying to confuse you, because by so doing you will compel me to retort. You have stated in the Court of Chancery that your father and mother lived in the Rue de Pyramids. When was that?—I don't recollect what year it was in.

I don't ask you the year it was in. Give me a year, or two or three years, within which they lived in the Rue de Pyramids. When you were asked where you were living when Chatillon, your tutor, came to see you, you said the Rue de Pyra raids, and you gave the same reply five times. Will you awear that Chatillon ever came to you, or had anything whatever to do in the Rue de Pyramids?—-No.

What did you mean by saying so to Mr. Giffard?—I meant what I said.

Chatillon, according to you, was your only tutor. He used to take you out to walk about the places where you lived, and amongst them the Itue de Pyramids. " Will you repeat that now?—I will not.

But why did you say it ? It is the one particular place, you know, that you condescended to mention.—Well, you have implied that it is wrong.

I didn't imply anything. I am simply taxing your memory. Will you swear to it?—I will not.

why not?—Because my recollection is bad.

What made you swear it before?—I was under the impression it was so.

Are you still under that impression?—I am not.

What has changed your impression?—Because I think it was after that my father lived there.

After what?—After Chatillon's time.

Do you mean when you came to England?—I think so.

Chatillon was your instructor from 1835 to 1845. Did he come day by day?—

Was there a room where he gave you your lessons?—Yes.

Well, this man was your tutor for ten years, and gave you instructions day by day in a stated room. Surely you can tell me where that was?—No answer.

Can't you?—No.

Do you remember the room you slept in?—No; I have no recollection of it at all.

The room you dined in?—I have no recollection.

Where is the Rue de Ferme?—It runs into the outskirts of Paris.

Where in the outskirts?—I have no recollection now, Paris is so much altered.

Whereabouts was the Rue de Ferme?—I have no recollection.

What do you mean by saying that it runs into the outskirts?—I mean the suburbs, .My recollection is bad, and the more you go on the more you confuse me.

I don't want to do it. I want to know on which side of the Seine is the Rue de Ferme. Is it the left bank or the right?—Do you mean coming up the town? "When I was at school we always counted the river down stream.

On which side was it?—It would be on the right side. I believe so, but I am not positive.

You lived sixteen years as a boy in Paris; you went about Paris, I suppose, like other boys; and you lived for some years, as you say, in the Rue de Fernie. Do you really mean to tell me that you cannot say on which side of the Seine was the street in which as a boy you lived for years?—I was very young then. I have no distinct recollection of it.

You told me the Rue de Ferme ran into the outskirts. Into which suburb did it run?—I don't know.

Is there such a street in Paris—or rather, was there such a street?—Certainly.

Do you really mean that?—I do.

How came you to change from the Rue de Madeleine to the Rue de Ferme?—I don't know.

They are not different names of the same street?—I think not.

Is the Rue de Ferme, which, according to your impression, runs round the suburbs, within two miles of the Rue de Madeleine?—Yes, I think so.

Than you can tell us something about it. Let me remind you of your wonderful memory about Dublin, Cahir, and the barracks at Clonmel. Brush yourself up and tell me.—No, I can't.

How is it that your memory, which is so precise about the most minute particulars, ceases to be reliable?—In some things it is very good and in some things very bad.

Where is it bad?—In names.

What about localities?—Sometimes I have a good recollection and sometimes a bad one.

You remember all about Miss Hayes's rook and several little things—in fact, your memory is wonderful on many little points. You told us all about the troopers horse with the black mane and the spotted tail. Can't you tell us something about these sixteen years in Paris?—No answer.

When you come to talk about people, do you find that it lights your memory up?— Of course it does.

Give me one fact—one solitary fact of your life in Paris. One thing you'll swear to?—If I can tell you one thing I could swear to you'll harp at me for three hours. (Laughter.)

I dare say I should. Can you give me the colour of any of your frocks? You remember the colour of your shirts and pocket-handkerchiefs. What about your frocks and your caps and feathers? I am not going to say.

Is it because you won't?—No answer.

Is that really it?—No answer.

I am afraid I must try and light you up.

The Chief-Justice: I want to call the claimant's attention to his examinations before the examiner. He says, " The first place that I remember to have resided ia in Paris was the Rue de Madeleine. I remained there until I was 15. I did not always live in the house. I cannot exactly tell about other houses except one in the Hue St. Honord, near the Louvre." As the Solicitor-Gereral is passing to another point, I think it right to call your attention to that evidence, and to ask whether you still wish to give any answer further than that which I have read.

The Claimant: I have no recollection of the evidence I gave before the examiner.

The Solicitor-General: Did you go with Chatillon to any schools out ot doors?—I believe I went with him to a dancing academy.

Did you go to any other school but a dancing school?—Not that I remember.

Had you any swimming, fencing, or riding?—Yes.

Which of them?—I went to a swimming bath.

With Chatillon?—I believe so. I don't remember exactly, but I believe it was. I feel that I am entirely incapable of giving evidence. I said so before I came into court, but I was told that the impression of the public would be bad if I did not come to-day. When I got up this morning I didn't know whether I was in my room or not, my head was so bad.

Were you at the Princess's Theatre on Saturday?—Very likely I was.

Were you there the night before last?—No.

Were you at the Holborn Theatre?—.No.

Were you at any place of amusement the night before last?—I haven't been out of my room since I left the court on Tuesday till to-day.

Were you at your Gun Club?—Not lately. It was long before my examination— fully a fortnight ago.

When you saw Mr. Quain and Mr. Johnson did they ask you a great many quesstions?—Yes.

And examined you thoroughly?. — Yes. Mr. Quain told me last night that I was not in a fit state to be in court to-day.

Why didn't you say this morning that you were not in a fit stale to be crossexamined?—Because I was willing to do my best.

I trust nobody thinks I have been rough this morning?—I didn't say so. What I mean is that I don't know what I am saying, or what you are talking about.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: His counsel are responsible for his being in the witnessbox to-day. Mr. Johnson told me he thought the claimant would be able to go through his examination to-day, and advised him to do so.

The Chief-Justice (to claimant): It is now twelve o'clock. Would you like a short adjournment?—I am prepared to go on, but I cannot be answerable for what I say.

The Chief-Justice: That means that we must adjourn. You cannot be forced to go on when you are unable to do so.

Claimant: My head is in that way that I don't understand what I am saying, or what is said to me.

The Solicitor-General: Is that positive?

The Chief-Justice: If the claimant says " I am unable to comprehend the questions, or to give answers," it is useless for us to attempt to proceed with the case. He might retire from the witness-box, and we would adjourn to such time as he could appear.

The Solicitor-General: I put my questions as plainly as I could; 'tis not like a long scientific examination. I don't know what the opinion of the jury may be, but I think the questions put to-day were as simple as those in the examination in chief.

The Chief-Justice: My impression is that the questions were put as simply as those of the examination in chief.

Claimant: I'm not complaining of the Solicitor-General. The only thing is I am afraid of my own head.

The Chief-Justice: Up to what time do you wish to adjourn?

Claimant: I don't know, I'm sure.

The Chief-Justice: Would you wish for a long or short adjournment? It is only right to explain this to you. This is your case. You have at least an equal, if not the most material, interest in this case. Having given your evidence in chief, you have to be cross-examined; therefore it is to your interest that this examination should proceed whenever you are capable of understanding the questions and answering them.

Claimant: The question is, is it fair for me to go on with the cross-examination with my head in its present state?

The Chief-Justice: Whatever you wish as regards a long or short adjournment shall be carried out. Do you wish to adjourn for a short time—say an hour—or altogether?

Claimant: As your lordship pleases.

The Chief-Justice: I have no wish in the matter. I desire to consult your wishes.

The Solicitor-General: So far as I am concerned, I am entirely in the hands of your lordship and the jury. I am ready to go on; but at the same time, I don't wish to give any human being an opportunity of saying that I am acting unfairly.

The Chief-Justice: If the witness says lie is incapable of comprehending the questions or giving answers to them, and that he wishes for an adjournment, his wish must be complied with.

Claimant: Mr. Johnson was of opinion I could not come this morning, but still he thought it would be better to come, even if I was obliged to leave.

The Solicitor-General: These adjournments throw upon us a most frightful expense.

Claimant: And upon me the same.

The Solicitor-General: It is hundreds of pounds a day.

The Chief-Justice (to the Solicitor-General): Have you any idea as to the length of the cross-examination?

The Solicitor-General: It depends upon the answers and how long I am in getting them. In truth, the whole of my case must be put in the cross-examination.

The Foreman of the jury: We think that a great deal of time is wasted by these adjournments. Having regard to the nature of the medical report, we think that some restraint ought to be placed upon the claimant when out of doors.

The Chief-Justice: I have no power of appointing a superintendent of his health, gentlemen.

An adjournment for an hour was then agreed to.

At twenty minutes past one the claimant re-entered the witness-box, and appeared still to be suffering from illness and exhaustion.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that the claimant desired to make a statement on oath as to his health. If his lordship would allow him to do so, he (Serjeant Ballantine) would be willing to leave it in the hands of the court to determine what course should be taken as to continuing the cross-examination or adjourning till a future day. i Addressing the Claimant): Sir Roger, will you be good enough to state to the court how you feel with respect to continuing your evidence to-day?

The Claimant: I do not think I shall be doing justice to myself if I proceed any further now. My head is very light, and I hardly know what I am saying.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Details of Sir Roger's complaint haye been given to me, which I cannot enter into just now.

The Chief-Justice: Under these circumstances it is impossible to proceed satisfactorily with the cross-examination. The only question now is what course we must adopt.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: There is this to be said, my lord—Sir Roger has been in one court or the other for a considerable length of time. Your lordship's sitting continuously even in this court has had its effect upon all of us. I think the better course will be to give Sir Roger relaxation for three or four days, and adjourn till Monday, when it is possible that he may by that time be sufficiently restored to enable him to go on to the end of the examination.

The Solicitor-General: That seems to me to be the best course, certainly; but it is desirable that the cross-examination should be completed as soon as possible. The statement made by the claimant affecting the honour of a lady called for an immediate answer, and there is no reason, as far as I can see, why that lady should not be allowed to come forward, as she is most anxious to do, with a denial as early as possible, painful though it may be to her to appear in court under such circumstances. Further than that, the defendants are anxious to have the reasons for an adjournment based upon some evidence that would be satisfactory to your lordship and the jury. Some independent medical man, I suggest, should be called in to examine the claimant, and say whether or not he was capable of undergoing the cross-examination. It is obviously clear we are very much at the mercy of a witness who, after all, may not be a proper judge of his own illness, or who may be exaggerating with regard to the complaints under which it is said he is suffering. We require some safeguard that grounds do really exist for a further adjournment of the trial. The defendants are perfectly anxious and ready to proceed with their case, and they regret that these hindrances have arisen. In future, I think, if these applications for adjournment are to continue, that some arrangements should be made with regard to costs, which, as your lordship knows, are frightfully heavy. If an adjournment took place for the benefit of the plaintiff, it would be only right that he should pay the costs. A.t present it is apparent we have no security in this respect whatever. If your lordship and the jury think, however, on the present occasion that there are really good reasons for adjourning the trial for a few days, I will not add one feather's weight of opposition to turn the balance against it, but will leave it entirely in your hands.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am sorry my learned friend has put it in this way, because it obliges me to say that it was perfectly competent for me to have abstained from calling Sir Roger until my list of witnesses had been exhausted, instead of allowing him to be placed in the box at this comparatively early period of the trial. With regard to what the Solicitor-General has said about the lady, I think that all adjournment for a few days cannot in the least degree affect her case, because many weeks certainly must elapse before she can lie put into the witness-box. If my learned friend asks for the costs, I shall follow that course which is open to me, and call icy witnesses one after the other without delay.

The Chief-Justice: I don't understand that the Solicitor-General is asking for costs on this occasion.

The Solicitor-General: No, my lord; I was only speaking as to the future.

The Chief-Justice: We will deal with future adjournments as they arise. At present the question is as to what day we shall adjourn to.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Your lordship may probably think it desirable that some physician of eminence should be called in to examine Sir Roger. If he is unable to go on after an adjournment in a manner satisfactory to the ends of justice, I shall be prepared to call other witnesses, so that no more delay may take place than is absolutely necessary.

The Solicitor-General: It does not follow that my learned friend has a right to interpose fresh witnesses in the middle of a cross-examination

The Chief-Justice: We will not discuss that point now. At present the question is whether we are to adjourn on the statement of the plaintiff, or whether there diould be some medical gentleman called in to see whether he really is in such a state prevents his going on.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: As the court does not sit on Saturday, it will, after all, if we adjourn to Monday, be only a question of a single day's delay. I believe the interests of justice will be more easily arrived at if we adjourn for three or four days.

The Chief-Justice: Could not the claimant be examined at once by some surgeon from the Westminster Hospital?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I do not think that would be desirable. The examination must be a lengthened one, and some days must elapse before a conclusion can be arrived at.

The Chief-Justice: If we adjourn now, it strikes me there is but little probability of the plaintiff being able to proceed in the morning. The better course will be, 1 think, to adjourn until Monday, and let him be examined by some medical man in the meantime.

The Foreman: If the claimant is again examined, we may know certainly what prospects there are of his being able to proceed.

The Solicitor-General: It will be satisfactory to both sides if your lordship will name some medical man who shall see the claimant.

The Chief-Justice: Perhaps Mr. Paget or Mr. Barnard Holt could see him. We all know how difficult it would be for Mr. Paget to find time to appear in court. Mr. Barnard Holt, of the Middlesex Hospital, would be near to the spot, certainly.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The matter mentioned in the certificate of the medical man who has already seen him infers that the complaint may have some effect on the plaintiff's brain. It is absolutely necessary that he should have a certain time for relaxation and repose.

The Chief-Justice: Very well, then; we will adjourn till Monday.

The solicitor-General: I think it would be satisfactory that some medical gentleman should be called in who is not connected with either side.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is extremely painful to me to be placed in this position. It may seem as though I am obstructing the course of justice, but I assure the court that such is not my desire in the least degree. I am anxious to save the time of the court and the jury, and to meet their convenience as much as possible.

The Chief-Justice: I have drawn up an order of court to this effect. Let some medical gentleman be requested to see and examine the claimant from day to day until Monday, and to report to me on Saturday, by twelve o'clock, whether, in his opinion, the claimant is able to undergo further cross-examination on that day; or whether he would be likely to do so at some future time; and that the medical gentleman himself appear in court to give evidence on Monday, at half-past ten.

The Solicitor-General: Mr. Quain informs me that the claimant ought to be seen by some physician of eminence as well.

The Chief-Justice: Very well. Then let Dr. Burrows and Mr. Barnard Holt be called in. Mr. Holt will, of course, report to me as I have directed. Perhaps if the claimant should not be able to attend on Monday we may be able to proceed with another part of the case.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: If the claimant is not able to attend on Monday I shall urge the court to allow me to proceed with some other witnesses.

The Solicitor-General: If you do, I shall urge the court with all my force to the contrary.

The Court then adjourned till Monday.

TWENTY-FIRST DAY.—MONDAY, JUNE 12.

TWENTIETH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Sessions House, Westminster.

Referring to the proceedings having been adjourned from Thursday, owing to the illness of the claimant, and in order to give time for Dr. Burrows and Mr. Barnard Molt to examine him, and to report upon his state of health and his fitness to undergo the cross-examination by the Solicitor-General,

The Chief-Justice, on the court assembling at half-past ten, said: Brother Balantline and Mr. Solicitor, I suppose that both of you have seen a copy of the medical certificate?

Mr. Serjeant Lallantine: I have it in my hand, but have had no opportunity of reading it, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: I think a copy of it should be given to the jury. I have sent for the original, if they prefer to see that.

A copy of the certificate was handed to the jury, and it was read by them privately.

The Chief-Justice: It is more satisfactory that the jury should see it. We are now quite ready to go on.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued: The other day I was asking you about the school and the different places you went to when in Paris, and we got as far as the swimming-baths, I think. Who took you to the swimming-baths?—I don't remember who it was.

Did you learn swimming?—Yes; I could swim a little.

Where were the baths?—On the Seine.

Was it a servant who took you, or your father, your tutor, or whom?—Well, I went with different people, I suppose.

Can you remember the name of one person?—I went there with Chatillon.

Can you give me the name of any other person, or is it your impression that he took you generally?—I am confident I went there with him.

Did you ever go to any places of amusement or sport?—No doubt I did.

No doubt Roger Charles Tichborne did, but I want you to say whether you went to any other places?—I don't remember.

I think you did say that you learned to dance?—Yes.

Do you mean to say that you can't recollect the name of any young lady with whom you danced?—If I did I would not. I consider it is a very impertinent question for you to ask.

The Solicitor-General; Impertinence has no application for me. It has nothing to do with me, except that it is irrelevant to the case before us.

The Claimant: But you said that you meant to be as insolent as you could.

The Solicitor-General: If any such word escaped me, I am very sorry for it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am glad to hear you say that.

The Solicitor-General: I think the word I used was " unpleasant," or something of the kind. If I said " insolent," or anything equivalent to it, it was unintentional. No one who knows me will say that I could have used such a word as you impute to me.

The Chief-Justice: I have not the notes by me now, but I remember you did not use the word " insolent."

The Solicitor-General: If I did, my lord, it was a great mistake on my part.

A Juryman: I think it was put into your mouth by the claimant.

The Chief-Justice: We had better not discuss this any further.

The Solicitor-General: Now just attend to me. Whether you consider it impertinent or not, I must ask you the name of any one young lady with whom you, when a boy of sixteen, danced?—I don't remember the name. That is your answer?—Yes.

You mean to say that you don't remember the name of any young lady " with whom you danced at Paris?—I danced with a good many, but I do not remember their names.

Give me the name of any one of them?—I don't remember.

Not one?—I don't remember.

Very well; did you ever go to a ball in Paris?—Yes, I went to one.

Where?—I have some recollection of going to one.

More than one?—Yes, two or three.

Where?—In Paris.

You might just as well say in France. Surely you can remember where you went to a hall when a boy of sixteen. You are not so old now, you know. Give me the name of one place. Were they private or public balls?—They were private; but I remember going to a public one.

Give me the name of one house where you went to a private ball?—I don't remember where they were at all.

Where was the public ball?—I don't know.

Can you tell me when the public ball was?—I think it was in 1851.

Oh but I am confining you to the first sixteen years of your life, when substantially you lived in Paris?—I don't remember going to any public ball at that time.

Was the public ball on your return to Paris after you had ceased to live there?—Yes.

Where was the ball?—I have said that I don't remember.

Did you go alone?—I did.

Did you dance when there?—Yes.

Cannot you remember the name of a single partner with whom yon danced?—I doubt whether I know the name of any one.

So much for dancing. Now, was there anything else yon learned?—There might have been.

But was there?—No answer.

Surely up to sixteen you can tell me what, you learned in Paris. Did you ride?—Very little.

Did you ride at all?—No, I don't think I did.

Did you ride in Paris during the sixteen years you were there?—I might have done, but I don't recollect whether I did or not.

Then you never crossed a horse in Paris?—Not to my recollection, but I might have done. No doubt I rode when there.

Then what is your recollection?—To the best of my belief I did. No doubt I did.

Did your ever learn to ride in Paris?—No, I learned at Tichborne.

Did you ever go to school in Paris to learn to ride?—No, I did not go to any school to learn, but I might have gone to one for an hour or so.

But did you go to one?—No, I can't recollect that I did.

Surely you cannot forget whether you went to a large building week by week, or day by day, to learn to ride?—You have got my answer.

You don't remember, then?—I don't remember.

You have said you remembered the name of one of your father's servants, William Burdon?—Yes.

What is his age—between 40 and 50?—No, I don't think he is so old as that.

Did you see him at Alresford after you landed in England?—No.

Oh, yes, you have said you did.—Then have it your own way.

I don't want to have it my own way at all, but I merely ask you the question.— You first ask me a question, and when I say that I do not remember, you say that I have said so already. You said so the other day, and I let you have your own way.

Forgive me for reminding you that you are upon your oath, and if you let me lead you wrong you are injuring yourself.

The Chief-Justice: It is necessary to keep to the strict form of interrogation, and not to assert anything.

The Solicitor-General: Was it soon after you landed in England that you saw Burdon at Alresford, in the company of Mr. Seymour and Mr. Hopkins?—It was some time afterwards. I had seen Burdon before that. I mean I had seen him after my arrival, and before the interview you are speaking of.

Was Mr. Rouse there?—No, he was not.

Did you say, looking at Mr. Burdon, " That is my uncle Nangle"?—No, I did not.

Is your uncle Nangle between 70 and 80?—Yes, I believe he was fully that; but I do not call him uncle, although we are so related, I believe.

And Burdon is about 38?—Yes.

Is there any resemblance between the two?—Not the slightest.

I think you have said you only recollected one tour in the south of France, and that it was with your father and mother, and servants?—Yes.

Did any of your friends go with you?—I think a friend of my father's accompanied us.

Would you be surprised to hear that the only tour you took was with your father and M. de Mandeville and M. Chatillon, and that Lady Tichborne remained in Paris?—I think you are wrong in stating things which are not true. I think you ought to wait until you have ascertained whether it is true. It is the second time you have made false statements.

You say it is a false statement?—Yes.

And that you swear?—Yes, I do.

You mean that both statements are false?—Yes, they are. I have told you before I don't recollect who went with us.

Who went with you to Ponio?—My father and Chatillon.

You have told us you have bathed in the lake.—No answer.

Would you be surprised to hear there is no lake at Ponic?—Yes, I should.

Where is the lake?—Not far from the town.

But " not far" is a comparative term.—About three-quarters of a mile, I think. I have no recollection what distance it is.

Is it a good long walk?—It is no great distance.

Did you walk or ride there?—I can't remember.

You have told us about the accident. Was it seiious or slight?—It was not a very slight accident, I think.

Did you have a doctor, or what?—I believe that the doctor of the place attended me first.

Did you go home then?—Yes, shortly afterwards.

Who was your medical man at that time?—I don't remember.

How far is Ponic from Paris?—I can't tell you exactly. It may be over a hundred miles. It took us three days to return.

What makes you say that in this tour in Brittany, where you fell off the rocks and cut your head, that your father was with you, when you stated before the examiner that you could not recollect any third person was with you?—Because I believe that my father was with us at the time.

[The Solicitor-General here read a portion of the evidence given before the examiner.]

You tell us now that your father was with you, that you had been attended by a medical man, and you speak of other matters. Now, how was it that you did not state all these things when you were before the examiner?—Because I did not remember it. Don't you find your memory better at one time than another?

Why do you recollect these things now?—It is very hard to say why.

When did you recollect about M. Chatillon rinsing out his drawers when you fell over the rocks?—I can't say; but I remember when I was before the examiner that Mr. Chapman Barber rather confused me at the time. (Laughter.)

Were you three or four days or weeks iu Brittany?—It is a mistake if I said that we were there for only three days. I think we remained in Brittany for about a fortnight. We went to several places, but I don't remember where.

Did you stay at any place three or four days?—I don't remember.

Was the tour with M. Chatillon alone, or was your lather with you?—My father was with us.

Why did you not say so when you were examined in 1867?—Because I did not remember then.

Did your father go home to Paris with you?—He went with us, but I am not sure whether we went direct to Paris.

But you have told me that you did.—My impression is that we went to some place on the sea-coast first.

How long did you stay there?—I have no recollection.

What place was it?—That I don't remember. It might have been on some other trip that we went to the sea-coast. I remember being at the coast with my father and M. Chatillon on one occasion.

There is no other tour mentioned in your former evidence. Was there any other tour?—No, I can't remember.

Did you go home with Chatillon after the accident?—No; I either walked or was carried to the house of a lady who lived there.

What is your recollection about it?—I can't say whether I was carried there or not, and I don't see it is important that I should tell you.

Was there any one there beside Chatillon?—My father was sent for.

Was your father there at the time of the accident?—No.

Do you recollect whether you were carried?—No, I do not.

Bub why did you mention the word " carry?"—Well, if I did say that I was carried, I did not mean that it was on people's backs. If I give you a wrong word, you are down on me in a moment.

How long did you stay in the lady's house?—Till the following day.

How did you get back to Ponic?—We went in the carriage, I think.

Then how long did you stay at Ponic! I admit that it is a long while ago, and I don't expect you to give me an answer with any closeness: but how long did you remain there—was it a week or ten days?—No; I think it was about a couple of days.

And then you went to Paris?—I don't know.

Was M. Chatillon on good terms with Mr. and Mrs. James Tichborne up to the end

of your staying with them in 1853?—I think so—yes.

Surely you know that?—Yes, I think he was.

Did he visit them?—I should not think he was in a position to visit them. He might have called in now and then. He appeared to be on good terms with them. He wanted me to breakfast with him on the morning that I started, but my father would not let me.

Did you go to see him in 1867?—No, he came to see me. My mother was advised not to let him see me.

Who advised her?—Abbe Sallice.

Why was that?—Because he had seen the other parties, and had made up his mind not to recognise me.

But, however, he did come to the hotel. Did he come with Lady Tichborne?—I don't recollect that. What is the use of your asking me a thing if I do not recollect it?

We have now got to 1867, to the period when you saw your mother in Paris. Will you swear that Chatillon, your only tutor, you know, did not come to your hotel with Lady Tichborne?—I don't remember.

Will you swear he did not?—I tell you I do not recollect whether he did or not.

Will you swear he did not?—How is it possible forme to swear it it I do not recollect it.

Will you pledge your oath that you do not remember?—What I mean to say is that it is not in my recollection.

The Chief-Justice: I will give you an illustration. If any one were to ask me whether I had stabbed my father, I should say that I had not done such a thing—not that I could not remember it.

The Claimant: He is not asking me what I did myself, but what a third person has done.

The Solicitor-General: I ask you if he did not come to your hotel with Lady Tichborne?—I believe that was the case.

Then why did you not say so before?—Because I did not understand you. I understood you to ask me whether my mother did not fetch him.

The Solicitor-General: My question is whether she came into the hotel with him?—I believe not.

Did she come into the room with him?——I believe she did.

Do you not know, upon your oath, that she went to Chatillon's house to fetch him? Do you, upon your oath, not know that she brought him to the hotel in her carriage?—Upon my oath I do not know that she did.

What is your belief?—My belief is what I said.

Do you believe or not that Lady Tichborne brought your old tutor with her in her own carriage to see you at her hotel?—I have told you before that I do not.

I am asking you as to your belief?—Well, I do not believe she did.

Did she not tell you she was going to fetch him?—No; she did not.

That you swear?—I swear that I don't remember her telling me so.

You were in Paris to be recognised by various persons at the time. This is your tutor, you know. Did not Lady Tichborne tell you she was going to fetch Chatillon to see you at your hotel?—She might have mentioned to me that she was going, but not at the time she went. She might have mentioned it previously.

Did she say she was going to fetch him?—She might have said she was going to send for him, but not to fetch him.

Have you any earthly doubt that your mother told you she intended to send for Chatillon, and that she did send for him?—Probably she did.

Why did you not tell me that before?—Because you asked me whether she did not so to fetch him.

You said that he came into the room with Lady Tichborne?—No, I did not. I have been on my guard against that all the time. My mother had been in the room some time previously.

Did she tell you Chatillon was coming?—No; not at that moment. She might have mentioned it the day before.

Did she? What is your impression about it?—That she did.

That you knew ten minutes ago. The jury heard what you stated then. You said tliat he came into the room with Lady Tichborne?—Yes, of course he did. My mother went out and brought him in. I mean that they did not both come to the hotel together.

Did they come into the room together?—I believe that my mother went out ot the room, and they both came into the room afterwards.

Did your mother make any arrangement for Chatillon to see you at the Hotel de Lille et d'Albion?—I have no doubt you know all about it better than I do, because you had so many spies there. You know everything they have spoken. You had eight or ten round the hotel, and you have it on record, whilst I have to speak from memory.

Was there my arrangement of the kind?—I don't think there was. It might have been arranged with Mr. Holmes. I don't think I had any knowledge that he was coming. If I had I should have waited breakfast for him; but he came just when I had finished.

But you knew that an arrangement was made for him to see you?—I asked my mother to send for him. I believe.

Did you know that it was after he had seen the other side?—No; my mother never told me that until after I had seen him.

Did you understand that the advice had been given to your mother by the Abbe Sallice before Chatillon came to see you?—Yes; and Mr. Leet and Mr. Holmes were, I believe, in the room when she told me of it.

Was Chatillon announced by name?—No; I believe he came in with my mother.

Did your mother say, " This is M. Chatillon?—No: I don't remember. How can I remember that?

Oh, yes, yes.—Well you seem to know it better than I do. I wish you had my brains and I had yours for a little time. (Laughter.) I did not say that to cause any laughter.

The Solicitor-General: Allow mo to say that, as a matter of exchange, you would find it a bad bargain.

The Claimant: At all events, I should benefit by it just now.

The Chief-Justice: The claimant took your question as an assertisn.

The Claimant: He tells me distinctly that I know things that I don't know; and he seems to know best whether I remember a thing or not.

The Chief-Justice: The questions are put in the usual form, but the claimant takes an interrogation as an assertion.

The Solicitor-General: Well, what is your belief?—Having no recollection, I can have no belief about it.

You can't recollect whether your mother introduced him as M. Chatillon?—No, I cannot.

Had you a handkerchief up to your face at the time?—I can't say. You may know it, perhaps; you had a spy.

Who were present?—Mr. Holmes and Mr. Leet were there.

Do you recollect whether you had a handkerchief to your face?—How is it possible I can remember that? it is so long ago.

Did Chatillon speak to you in French?—Yes.

And in English?—Yes, I believe he did.

Now, did he speak a single sentence to you in English?—What distinction do you draw between sentences and words?

Did he speak English to you?—Yes, I believe he did.

In conversation, as your tutor, did he ever speak English to you?—No, he talked to me purely in French then.

Did not Lady Tichborne say, " It is no use your talking French to him; he has forgotten all his French?"—No, I don't think she did.

Did he not talk to you about several subjects?—Yes.

And you had an interpreter?—Yes, Mr. Leet interpreted what we said.

You are sure that Lady Tichborne did not say that you had forgotten French?— You are asking me things that I can't remember, and are trying to make me perjure myself. I think it is very unfair.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You had better keep yourself quiet.

The Claimant: But I will not allow any one to try to make me periure myself.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to swear that during the time Chatillon was with you he was, as you have stated previously, eating all the time?—Well, I never saw a man eat so much in my life; he seemed as if he'd had nothing for a month.

He looked very hungry, did he, then?—Yes, and ate a very hearty meal.

How long was he there?—About an hour.

Eating most of the time?—Yes, whilst he was in my room.

How long was he in your room?—About three-quarters of an hour. He was eating for a long while.

And, at the end of it. did he say, after observing you and considering the matter, he was satisfied you were not his old friend Roger?—Yes, he said something to that effect.

And Mr. Holmes then said, " We must try and do without you?"—I did not hear him say that.

Did not Mr. Holmes say something: in French?—I can't say that he did.

Probably you would not have understood him?—I might have done.

Will you pledge your oath Mr. Holmes did not say something in French to Chatillon?—Well, there you are again. You are asking me to swear what I do not remember.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The words are supposed to have been said in French.

The Solicitor-General: I put it in both languages, brother. (Laughter.)

Did M. Chatillon come to the hotel a second time, and was refused?—No, he never came again.

Did he ask you to go to his house to meet some of your old friends?—No, I never heard of that.

Did you arrange to go there to breakfast with him, but the arrangement was altered, and he was desired to come to your hotel?—There you are entirely wrong. The whole of it is false, you know.

Did you not say that you were not well enough to go there, and that he had better come to your hotel?—It is entirely false, and I am glad there are those who can prove it. He called to see me on that one occasion, and I saw him, and I am not aware that he called afterwards.

Old you give instructions that if he called he should be refused?—Certainly not.

Did you go with Lady Tichborne. to Messrs. Callaghan & Co.?—Yes, and we found Chatillon there preparing the way for us.

Did Lady Tichborne have some conversation with Mr. Callaghan and Chatillon whilst you were on the stairs?—No; my mother and I went up the stairs, and saw Chatillon in young Mr. Callaghan's rooms. We waited until he was gone, and then we saw Mr. Callaghan ourselves. Chatillon went down the stairs, but he might have remained lurking about for aught I know.

In the course of your conversation with M. Chatillon did he ask you about your tour in Brittany?—Yes.

And you said that you could not recollect anything about it?—Certainly not.

And that you swear?—I am certain I did not.

You spoke about it for a long while, did you not?—Yes.

What did you say?—I cannot remember all that was stated. He said, " Surely if you are the person you will have the mark on your head." The next morning I had the hairdresser, and then there was the mark to be seen.

Tell me the conversation.—No; I can't recollect what did pass.

Will you swear you did not tell Chatillon at that interview that you could not recollect anything about the tour?—I can swear that I did not say so.

Can you tell me any of the answers you gave?—No, but I remember his saying that I answered some of them quite right.

The Abbe Sallice was Lady Tichborne's confessor, I think?—Yes.

And you knew him very well?—Yes.

Did you confess to him?—I believe I did.

Surely you can remember whether you did or did not. Can't you give me an answer?—I don't think I have a right to give you an answer to such a question.

Did you confess to him?—I believe I did.

When?—I don't recollect.

More than once?—I have no recollection.

Did you confess to any one else?—Yes, to lots of priests.

Who were they?—I have no right to answer such a question, and I decline to do it.

The Chief-Justice: You are not asked to say what you stated in confession, but to name the priest to whom you confessed.

The Solicitor-General: Now give me the name of one, and I must press you for an answer.—The Claimant: I decline to answer.

The Chief-Justice: You are bound to answer.

The Solicitor-General: I press you for an answer.—Well, I will give you the name of one who is dead. You know you can't call him. (Laughter.)

What was his name?—The Rev. Mr. Tilt.

What did you mean when yo said you would not answer?—Well, I shall keep my meaning to myself. I don't see why I should give you the name of a priest so as to let hitn be harpooned by you for an hour.

Then why did you mention the Abbe Sallice?—Because I had to speak of him in connection with other matters.

Oh, no, no, I don't mean that; but what about your confessing? You said on the 6th June that you confessed to the Abbe Sallice, if to any one, and now you say you confessed to several priests?—Well, I suppose I have lived since 1845.

Have you confessed to several priests?—No doubt I have.

Did you confess to many people before you left England in 1853?—I dare say I did.

Or before you left Paris?—Yes, but I have no recollection or their names.

Have you not said you cannot recollect the name of a single clergyman?—Yes, that is so.

I should like to have the name of the dead man.—Perhaps you can do without it now.

The Chief-Justice: You must answer the question.—Claimant: Well, it was the Rev. Mr. Tilt.

Where did he live?—At Tichborne.

And where did he die?—I dare say I could find it out.

How do you spell the name " Brimont" in English?—"B-r-e-m-o-n-t.

I think you said they were some relatives of your mother's?—Yes, they were; but I can't say exactly what. It is very unkind of you to go into such a subject.

Is not the name spelt with an "i"—Brimont?—I dare say you can spell it that way if you like.

You might spell " mother," you know, m-u-t-h-e-r. The De Brimonts are a noble family in France, are they not? There was a Baron de Brimont and a Vicomte, was there not? They were relations of your mother's family, you say?—I can't recollect.

Now, will you swear that the De Brimonts were any relations of your mother's?—They were related through the Plowdens in the first instance.

Were they not related on your lather's side?—Well, really, I have not gone through the pedigree. They might be relations on my father's side for aught I know.

What made you say on the 6th June that the Baron de Brimont was uncle to your mother?—I really can't tell now what made me say it.

But is it true? You put the Brimonts, you know, on your mother's side and the Nangles on your father's. What made you say so?—Well, you will make me say anything if you go on in this way.

What made you say that about the Baron de Brimont?—We used always to call him uncle.

Then I may take it that he was not your mother s uncle?—Really I can't answer the question.

Have you seen Mr. Baigent since the 6th June, and conversed with him about these relations of yours?—Yes, I have seen him; but we have not had one word of conversation either about them or the cause.

Which side were they on?—They must have been on my father's side.

Then why did you say they were on your mother's?—No answer.

Which is true—were they your father's relations or your mother's?—Well, I can't say exactly what they were. I never made it my study to ascertain the fact.

The Chief-Justice here inquired whether the claimant preferred that the court should be adjourned for an hour or half-an-hour, so as to give him time for luncheon and to recruit his strength. It had occurred to him, after reading the medical certificate, that the shorter time would be the better.

The Claimant said he preferred to be away for an hour, and the court accordingly adjourned for that time.

At the conclusion of the adjournment, the cross-examination of the claimant was resumed.

The Solicitor-General: You don't recollect anything about M. Dupanloup or M. Le Favre?—No, I do not.

You say you don't recollect who prepared you for your first communion?—No.

Would you be surprised to find that Roger Charles Tichborne lived on the most affectionate terms for years with M. Le Favre?—I don't say it would surprise me.

Are you aware that M. Le Favre was one of his most intimate friends, and that Roger Charles Tichborne passed some of the last hours of his stay in Europe with him?—I don't recollect.

Can you recollect the Christian name of any of the persons to whom you confessed?—No.

Do you recollect the Christian name of M. Le Favre?—No.

Would it surprise you to find that you went to the Père Alexis Le Favre on the birthday of St. Alexis, with presents for charitable purposes?—No.

Do you know the day of St. Alexis in your calendar?—I don't remember it.

Do you know whether it is in the winter or the summer?—I have no recollection.

You have no recollection of going on St. Alexis's Day to Père Alexis Le Favre with offerings for the poor of Paris?—No, I didn't do it.

Do you recollect what was the colour of Père Alexis Le Favre's hair?—No.

Do you recollect any story he used, to tell about his hair?—No, not at present.

Did you ever complain to the Père Alexis Le Favre of any conduct of Lady Tichborne's?—I might.

Might? I thought you said you didn't remember the man at all. However, we'll let that pass. Did you go to Père Alexis Le Favre time after time on the same subject.—Yes, I believe I did.

Who was the Père Alexis Le Favre?—I don't know. I don't remember who he was. You are bringing to my mind a certain thing which I remember, and nothing further.

Was it to Père Alexis Le Favre you went to make the complaint?—I don't know.

Was the man to whom you went a clergyman?—Of course he was.

What was his name?—I don't remember.

What were the complaints?—Keeping me dressed as a female for many years. Keeping me in frocks, I mean.

You don't remember who that was?—No.

A clergyman?—Of course he was a priest.

Where did you complain. In his house or Sir James Tichborne's?—I believe at the church.

In what church?—It would be the church of that name.

Of what name?—I didn't take notice of the name you said.

I did not suggest a name. What was the name of the church?—I don't remember.

How long did Mrs. Tichborne keep you in frocks?—Till I was eleven or twelve.

Was this the only complaint you made to the clergyman, whose name you don't remember?—I can't say.

You went often to complain of your mother's conduct. Is that the only thing you went to complain about?—I don't know, but I consider it shameful conduct of the clergyman to tell you.

Was anything done about the frocks? Did you get out of them?—I did, a short time after.

Do you mean to say that the clergyman interfered about the frocks?—I don't remember. I know I got out of them before the time devoted to them.

Out of what?—You appear to be very innocent just now. Considering that your brother is a Jesuit, you must know.

The Solicitor-General: I don't know that I am bound to submit to that from anybody. I have the highest love, regard, and veneration for my brother.

The Chief-Justice: It is impossible to interpose and stop these things. The plaintiff has shown that he is aware of things he ought not to say by afterwanls expressing an apology. If he persists in making these remarks I can't step him. The observation was most improper.

Serjeant Ballantine: In all legitimate matters I shall thoroughly protect my client; but I must say that I discourage as much as anybody the use of such an observation as applied to my learned friend the Solicitor-General. I am extremely sorry for it; and if any apology on my part is acceptable, I offer it most gladly.

The Chief-Justice: Anything that falls from the plaintiff the jury will appreciate. I don't think he advances his case by observations of that kind. If they have any effect, it cannot be favourable.

Serjeant Ballantine: I hope he will refrain from using such expressions.

The Solicitor-General: I don't feel it, and it won't help him. Now, what did you mean by going out of frocks before the time devoted to them?—Simply what I say.

What time is devoted to wearing frocks?—Seven years.

When did you get out of frocks?—When I was about eleven or twelve.

Then what do you mean by saying that you got out of frocks before the usual time?—If I had worn them the whole time I should have worn them till I was twelve or thirteen.

What kind of frocks were they?—They were devoted to a certain order in religion.

Do you mean to say you were devoted to some order in religion?—I wore the frocks.

What order of frocks was it?—The order of the blue.

Do you mean "blue?"—Yes; white frocks trimmed with blue.

What is the order of the blue?—I don't know. I forget altogether what it was.

Do you mean the order or the colour?—I forget all about it. I should not have thought of it if you had not mentioned it.

Do you forget whether you complained to the clergyman of wearing the frock of the order?—I have forgotten all about it.

Can you tell me what order it was, or how you came to wear the frock?—I wore it at my mother's request.

At what times did you wear it?—In and out of doors.

For how long?—Till I was ten or eleven years of age.

When I asked you the other day about the colour of your frocks, why didn't you mention about the blue and white?—Because I didn't choose, I suppose.

Did you come over to England in a blue and white frock?—No.

In what dress did you come?—I forget.

When you came to Tichborne and Upton before you were ten or eleven years of age, did you come in blue and white?—I don't remember.

What sort of meals had you?—What are you talking about?

I mean, how did you live at your father's? Did you eat any particular things at any particular times?—Yes.

What—I used to have fish on fish days.

I don't mean that. Had you any particular food you liked or disliked?—I don't recollect.

Did you ever complain to this clergyman about your food?—I should think not. I don't remember.

Is it not a fact that Roger Charles Tichborne complained that his mother stuffed him with soup till he was sick? (Laughter.)—I don't recollect. I think it is a most scandalous thing that you should know it.

Don't mind that. Do you remember it?—No.

Did you ever confide to any clergyman—your intimate and affectionate friend—any secret about yourself?—I don't remember.

When you were nineteen years of age did you make a solemn resolution, and communicate it to an intimate and affectionate friend of yours—a clergymen in Paris?'—I may have done so.

Who was the person, and what was the resolution?—I don't remember.

Had he a long and intimate conversation with you on the subject of that resolution?—I don't recollect.

After you left Paris was there any clergyman with whom you were in the habit of communicating in French?—Yes, I believe so.

Who was the clergyman?—I don't recollect his name.

What makes you say you can't recollect if there was such a correspondence?—I don't recollect who it was to, but I remember writing the letters.

Was it always to the same person?—I can't tell.

You were writing letters in French to a French clergyman for several years, and you don't remember his name. Is that what you say?—I don't remember at present.

The Chief-Justice: Were the letters from a person in England or France?

The Claimant: France, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Was the person to whom you wrote living in Paris?—Yes, for some time.

During the whole time that you wrote to him?—No; I think I afterwards wrote to him at Boulogne.

Was he at Boulogne when you last wrote to him?—Yes, I think he was.

About what time was it? Was it after you left Stonyhurst, or after you left the army?—It was about 1850.

What sort of a man was he? Large or small, slim or stout, dark or light?—I can't say.

Surely you can tell me that?—I forget.

How came you to write to him?—On account of knowing him, I suppose. It is impossible for me to answer.

Is that the best account you can give of it?—Yes.

I think that as a resident you left Paris in 1845 or 1846?—In 1845.

And you left Europe in 1853?—Yes.

Between 1845 and 1853 did you often go to Paris?—About seven or eight times. It might be more.

Was the last time you went to Paris when you went to take leave of your father?—Yes.

At that time you say your father was living in the Rue St. Honoré?—Yes: I think so.

You never were in Paris again till 1867?—No.

This was a short visit. You merely went to wish them bood-bye, and have done with it?—Yes.

How long were you there?—A short time.

Would your stay there be numbered by days, by hours, or by weeks?—By days, certainly.

How long before that had you been in Paris?—I don't remember. It wasn't in 1853.

Then it was in 1852?—Yes.

What time of the year was it —The winter, I believe.

Did you go to Paris from Canterbury or Upton?—I believe I went from Upton.

Would you be surprised to find that you were in Paris, or, rather, that Roger Charles Tichborne was in Paris from the 27th of January, 1853, to the 14th of February in the same year?—Very possibly. I don't speak to a month.

You know you said, in your examination in chief, that your impression was you stayed a clear day. Would it surprise you to find it was nearly three weeks?—No, it wouldn't surprise me at all.

Which was it?—My memory don't carry me back so far as that.

Excuse me for so often reminding you that you remember all about the trooper, the rook, and the horse's mane. Surely you can tell me whether, when you went to your father's house for the last time, you stayed a clear day or three weeks?—My memory won't carry me back.

Question repeated.—My impression is my last visit was only a few days. I don't recollect how long it was, but it could not have been more than two or three days.

What sort of a person was Sir James Tickborne?—Do you mean my father?

Yes. Describe him. What kind of man was he?—He was tall.

Well, what more? You described Arthur Orton. Surely you can describe Sir James Tichborne?—He had white hair—at least, it was almost white.

Had he much of it?—Not very much.

Did it come white early in life?—It was always nearly white. It was very light.

Was he stoutish or not?—He wasn't thin.

Was he stout?—He would be about 16 stone.

The Chief-Justice: Was he bald or not?

Claimant: He was a little bald on the top of the forehead.

The Solicitor-General: What coloured eyes had he?—Inclined to be blue, I think.

When they got to the end of their inclination, were they blue eyes?—Well, there are so many kinds of blue eyes, you know.

Were they light or dark?—They were blue; that is all I can tell you.

You knew his handwriting, I dare say?—Yes.

Look at that document (produced), and tell me in whose handwriting it is?—That's my own; at least, it looks very much like it.

Whose handwriting is that in? (Second letter produced.)—I don't know.

Is it like yours?—It is not unsimilar.

Will you swear it is yours?—I couldn't do that.

Nobody asks you to swear to more than your belief. Is it yours?—I don't believe it is; there is a similarity about it.

Will you swear to your belief whether it is in your handwriting or not?—I will not say whether it is or not.

Whose handwriting do you believe that to be? (Third letter produced.)—I believe it is mine.

Was Moore ever in Paris in Mr. Tichborne's service?—No; he went over with me on one occasion.

The Chief-Justice: What time was that?

Claimant: Before I went away, my lord.

The Solicitor-Genoral: Was Carter ever in Paris?—No.

Was M'Cann?—Not to my knowledge.

Baigent, Murton, Miss Brain?—Not that I know of.

Then, as far as you are aware, they knew nothing of Paris?—I know nothing about it.

Had Sir James Tichborne large eyebrows?—He had fair-sized eyebrows.

Were they bushey?—No, I think not.

Look at that (photograph produced), and tell me whose likeness it is.—I have seen that photograph before.

What photograph is it?—It is a photograph of Arthur Orton's father. They have be in showing it about the country, saying it was my father's. There are about a dozen detectives hanging about, and they have one each.

Is it like Orton's father?—I don't know. I never saw him.

Who is that (second photograph produced)? Is it anybody you ever saw —If it is I don't know it again. I don't think you could recognise anybody from such a picture as that.

Is it at all like anybody you ever saw?—I don t think it.

Should you be surprised to find that it is the portrait of Sir Edward Doughty?— I am certain that if you showed it to a hundred people who knew him there wouldn't be one who would recognise him.

I asked you a question the other day about tattooing. I rather gathered from you that you had no tattoo marks. I am not sure whether I asked you whether you had had any?—No, I had not.

There has been no tattoo mark made on any part of your person?—No.

The Chief-Justice: At any time?

Claimant: No.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

TWENTY-SECOND DAY.—TUESDAY, JUNE 13.

TWENTY-FIRST DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The witness-box, with its sounding-board, which had been used in the Sessions House, was removed into this court, and the claimant was provided with a seat, in which he remained during the day.

The Claimant's cross-examination, by the Solicitor-General, was continued: Was Bogle in Sir James and Lady Tichborne's service before you left Paris as a residence?—No.

Then he knew nothing about it whatever?—No.

You have said that you went over from Paris to England to be present at the funeral of your uncle Henry?—Yes.

How long did you stay at Tichborne on that occasion?—Four or five days.

Was it then that you had something $$Unclear$$e to your shoulder—you have said that you had a small seton put into it?—No, it was some time previously.

When?—I don't remember.

I don't mean the day; but you can tell me, surely, about the time when the seton was put in?—It was some years previously, I think; and, to the best of my knowledge, it was done in France.

Under what circumstances?—I don' t remember the occasion of its being done.

Who helped you to dress it—you have stated that it was dressed with ivy leaves on your return to this country?—It was dressed by different people who wen. near me, I suppose.

Give me the name of anyone.—I don't remember the name of anyone in particular.

Where did you get the ivy leaves?—I can't tell you where I picked up the leaves— certainly not.

No; but at what place did you get them?—Whilst I was at Upton, I believe, and it was in the year 1838 or 1840, I should say.

Have you seen Moore since the 13th May last?—Yes; but I have not spoken to him.

That you swear?—Most positively.

What made you say to Mr. Giffard that you had something done to your shoulder on the occasion of the funeral?—It was merely the way the question was put. I gave him an answer, I suppose, not exactly understanding the question as it was put to me. It is much more difficult to follow you.

Well, we have had enough of that sort of thing, so let us proceed. Now, how came the seton to be put into your shoulder?—I don't know.

Who put it in?—I cannot remember.

What sort of thing was it?—There were merely a few threads of silk or worsted put in.

Was there nothing done to keep the seton open at all?'—I think not. It was always kept movable.

Then, who moved it?—The maids in the house, I should say.

When you were at Paris?—Yes.

Who had it closed up?—I don't know.

Nor where?—No.

What effect had the seton upon your arm?—It relieved me of spasms.

What spasms were you suffering from?—I am not aware that I had any particular kind of spasms at the time.

Where did the spasms lie?—They were spasms connected with the heart.

Can't you tell me under what circumstance the Beton was healed up?—Perhaps I could if you will allow me to think. No, I cannot tell you. It was kept open for several months.

Who advised it being healed up—the doctor?—I cannot say, I am sure.

Would it surprise you to hear that the real Roger Charles Tichborne had not a seton at all on his shoulder, but a sore in his arm, which was kept open with peas, and covered with silver, and that, on account of the arm wasting, Lady Doughty closed it up herself?—I am not surprised to hear you say anything; but that is not true.

Then it is false?—Yes, that it is.

Did you by your father's desire go to confession in 1845 before you went to Stonyhurst?—I can't remember.

Do you remember the name of any clergyman with whom you were associated at that time besides Father Brindle?—At what time do you mean?

When your father brought you over from Paris to attend your uncle's funeral, and before you went to Stonyhurst.—I do not remember any one.

Did you go to Loudon?—I have no recollection of it.

Did you ever pay a religious visit to any clergyman when in London?—Yes, I did, I think, on several occasions.

What was his name?—It is impossible that I can remember that.

Can't you tell me the name of some clergyman to whom you paid a religious visit in London?—No.

Nor the place?—I used to meet one of the Fathers at Grove House, Brompton, where Lady Ann lived.

Can you give me his name?—No.

I ask you to give me the name of any place to which you went to confess.—I cannot remember any.

Cannot you give me the name of any clergyman to whom you went?— No.

Try.—I am not going to try.

What do you say?—I did not say anything.

Did you go to any church before you went to Stonyhurst?—I have no recollection of it.

Have you any doubt that yon went to a church?—No.

Can you give me the name of the Catholic church to which you went?—No. I have no recollection of going to any church at all.

Did you ever go to the Cathedral?—St. George's, do you mean?

Yes?—I have been trying to remember whether I ever was there, but can't.

Or Farm-street?—I think Farm-street was not in existence then.

Did you ever go to a foreign Roman Catholic church i London?—Yes, I think so.

In London there are embassy churches of foreign powers. Have you ever been to any of them?—I think I went to the French chapel in Spanish-place.

I mean before you went to Stonyhurst?—No, I have no recollection of that.

Would you be surprised to hear that the real Roger Charles Tichborne was taken by his father, Mr. James Tichborne, to the Abbé Toussel, at the French Embassy, and that he was extremely annoyed to find that Roger did not know enough English ta confess in that language? What do you say to that?—I have never denied it.

Is it true?—I have no recollection of it. It may be true.

Do you recollect whether it is true or not?— I have no recollection of it.

No recollection one way or the other?—No.

Have you forgotten that Mr. James Tichborne made it a serious matter of annoyance when he found that Roger Charles could not confess in English. Would you be surprised to hear that it was so?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to the manner in which the Solicitor General put his questions. It was not fair to ash the claimant if he would be surprised to hear so and so.

The Chief-Justice said that the attention of the claimant was being drawn to a fact, so as to lay the foundation for evidence hereafter.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: But the form taken by my learned friend is calculated to give rise to matters which I am sorry to find have arisen in this case.

A short conversation here took place amongst the jury.

The Chief-Justice: When a witness is under examination, and it is proposed to give evidence upon a fact in contradiction to what has been stated, it is the duty of tlie cross-examining counsel to bring it to his attention.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said it was extremely painful to object; but he trusted the jury would feel that he had a duty to perform as well as the Solicitor-General. At present the case was not decided.

The Chief-Justice: Nothing has fallen from you or from me that intimates in the slightest degree any opinion upon the ultimate question in this case.

The Solicitor-General said he should be sorry to put any questions that were not strictly legal.

The Solicitor-General: Do you remember being in London at that time at all?—No.

Did Mr. and Mrs. Tichborne know Lord and Lady Camoys?—I don' t remember.

Did you know any of the sons or daughters of his lordship?—No, I do not remember.

Could you talk English in 1845?—Very little.

Do you recollect upon one occasion spending some hours at Lord Camoy's house?—No.

Do you remember what language was spoken there?—No.

Do you know where it was?—No, I do not.

You went to Stonyhurst, I think, with Father Brindle?—Yes.

Your father did not go with you?—No; he remained at Upton.

Do you know the handwriting of this letter?—Yes, it looks like that of Mr. Henry Danby Seymour.

Would it surprise you to find that it hi not his, but your grandfather's ?—No, it would not.

Would it surprise you to find, as it is stated there, " that Mr. Tichborne and Roger went to Stonyhurst this morning; that they were both in good spirits and liked the place well"?—No, it would not; that letter does not show that Mr. Tichborne went all the way.

Are you certain that Father Brindle went with you on the first occasion to college?—Yes, I believe he did.

Will you swear it?—No, I will not. I am merely speaking from memory. I could easily have ascertained it if I had liked.

I dare say you could.—I have not posted myself up in dates.

Are you quite certain about it?—As far as my memory serves me, mv belief is that Father Brindle did, and that my father did not.

When you got to Stonyhurat, who received you?—Father Venables, I think.

The Solicitor-General here read an extract from the evidence given by the claimant at the Law Institution, in which he stated that Father Walmsley received him at the college.

The Claimant: I meant Walmsley and not Venables.

Did not Mr. Norris or Mr. Holmes procure in 1867 a list of all the Jesuit fathers connected with Stonyhurst between 1844 and 1849, for the information of the Dowager Lady Tichborue?—No, I don't believe he ever did, and it is a great scandal upon him.

You were Lady Tichborne's executor?—Yes.

Have you acted as her executor?—I don't understand what you mean. When my poor mother died, I took possession of all her property; but, by the direction of one of the judges, I gave it over, together with her letters and mine, too.

Did not Mr. Holmes send to Mr. Norris a list of the Jesuit fathers, in order that it might be corrected?—Mr. Holmes must answer for himself. I don't remember any thing about it.

Will you swear you did not see that list?—No, I will not.

Or read it?—I don't remember anything about it. I cannot recollect all the documents I have seen.

The Solicitor-General read a letter from the claimant to Lady Tichborne, in which he expressed his surprise to find that she had been to Mr. Norris's, and stating that had he known he should have been there too. He added, " I shall be in London to-morrow, preparing for my examination," and that he was afraid that he should not be able to see her ladyship.

Were you in London for two days preparing for your examination?—I will swear that I never studied one minute for my examination.

Did Mr. Norris go with you to the consultation on the 26th July, 1867, at the Inns of Courts Hotel ?—I think not.

Is this letter in your handwriting?—Yes.

Is it correct?—No, I think not.

The Solicitor-General read a portion of the letter an follows: " I have just been in consultation with counsel, and I think it will be settled next week. Mr. Norris was here to-day to meet you, and waited till four o'clock, and then went with me to Lincoln's Inn." Have you any doubt about it now?—Yes, I have. I did not mean that I was present at the consultation, but that I was merely at the hotel. I wished to imply that I was there.

What made you write that letter, then?—I cannot answer your question.

Was not the list of the Jesuit Fathers produced at the consultation and read by you?—I don't believe that to be true.

Will you swear it is not?—Yes; no such document was read at the consultation.

You say that Father Walmsley received you at Stonyhurst?—Yes.

Was he the superior?—Yes.

Were you taken over the college with any one?—I cannot recollect.

You were there three years?—Yes.

Was there any practice or custom when a boy first went there?—Do you mean " fagging?"

No, not that. Was anything done to a boy when he first went there?—I don't remember anything.

Cannot you tell what happened to you when you first got thesre?—No; I don't know what you are alluding to at all.

I suppose you have a pretty good memory about Stonyhurst, or is your memory a blank about that?—I can only speak from what I know.

At what period of life did your memory change its character?—I am not aware that it has so changed. It is very hard for me to have to judge my own memory.

When you remember the pattern of a button on a hunting-coat, should von not consider that a proof of good memory?—Yes, I should say so.

And all about Serjeant Cann's rusty sword, or tho number of a trooper's horse?—You are speaking now of things that are a perfect mystery to me.

Was there a man called " Long Tom " at Stonyhurst?—Do you mean one of the lay brothers?

I am asking you.—No, I do not.

Do you remember a person who was called by that name?—No; not at Stonyhurst.

Did you know a man named Waterton when there?—Yes, I think I did. He was one of the attendants, I believe.

Was Waterton called " Long Tom? "—Not that I remember.

Was Mr. E. Waterton, a gentleman of fortune and position in Yorkshire, at Stonyhurst at that time? Was he called " Long Tom," and did he receive Mr. Tichborne and accompany him as his walking companion round the college?— I remember seeing a person named Waterton, but I don't remember his taking me round. He might have done it, certainly.

Did anybody show you the establishment all over?—I have no doubt that some one did, but I don't remember who it was.

Whom did you see at the college when you first got there?—There were the Arundels—Everard and John, I think.

I mean when you first were presented to the rector—did you see any relation of yours at that time?—I don't remember.

Were any of your relatives sent for?—I can't recollect.

Did anything pass between yourself, Mr. James Tichborne, and a relative of yours who was sent for?—I have told you before that I did not believe my father was there. What do you mean by the relative being sent for?—

Sent for from the college?—I can't recollect anything about it.

Was the conversation repeated between your relative and yourself afterwards?—I can't say.

Did anything happen between your relatives, the rector, and yourself on that occasion?—I don't remember.

Then your memory is a blank on the subject?—Yes, it is.

Do they fag at Stonyhurst?—No, I believe not. I never fagged anyone. I am under the impression there was no fagging there, but I won't swear to the matter at all. I believe the lay brothers did the work.

Will you swear that you yourself never fagged?—Yes, I will.

Do you recollect whether your relative, your cousin Charles de Brimont, was sent for by the superior, and told that he was to teach you English, and that he replied, " Then he must teach me French that he was reproved for answering so sharply, and that you reminded him afterwards that you had got him into a scrape the very first day you went there?—Do you expect me to remember all that?

Yes. Do you remember it?—No, I do not.

You have said there were cottages near to the college—how near were they to it?— They adjoined the college. You are trying to puzzle and confuse me.

Were the cottages in which you said you lived inside or outside the walls of the college?—They adjoined the college. The gates were a long way from them. The cottages were within the grounds.

What kind of buildings were they?—Cottages of one story. There were four or five of them, I think, in a row.

How far is Preston from Stonyhurst?—About twelve miles.

Who lived in the cottages?—The lay brothers generally, and occasionally one of the Fathers. I do not remember whether any of the young gentlemen besides myself lived there.

Did you stay in the cottage the whole time you were there?—No; I lived in the second cottage for only fifteen or eighteen months.

And where did you go then?—Into the college.

Whereabouts were your rooms in the college?—On the left, at the back, over on the philosopher's side.

You said " quadrangle," did you not?—I do not know whether I did or not. What do you mean by " quadrangle"?

What did you mean by it?—I meant the staircase at the side of the house.

Do you really mean to say you don't know the meaning of the word quadrangle? —I am trying to explain to you where my rooms were.

Do you mean to say that you, a Stonyhurst man, do not know what a quadrangle is?—It is part of a building, of course.

So is a doorpost. You were at Stonyhurst three years: surely you know what a quadrangle is?—I am not going to answer you such an insolent question.

The Chief-Justice: But you asked the Solicitor-General what a quadrangle was first.

The Claimant: No, my lord; the Solicitor-General mentioned it first.

The Chief-Justice: The question is whether you know what a quadrangle is. — It is that part that goes round —(dropping his voice).

The Chief-Justice: What do you say about round?

The Solicitor-General: Can you tell me what you mean by a quadrangle?—No, I do not. I do not know what you mean by it.

Will you tell me what you mean by it?—I have already answered the question.

What did you mean by a quadrangle?—I have told you that I mean a part of the building that was on the left wing.

What sort of a thing was a quadrangle?—What do you mean? It is really shameful for you to go on in this way. I have told you before that it was part of the building.

What sort of a thing was it?—I shall decline to answer your question.

The Chief-Justice: Why do you decline?—He is only asking me for the purpose of insulting me, my lord.

The Chief Justice said that he did not see anything insolent in the question.

The Solicitor General: What sort of a thing is a quadrangle? Don t keep us here all day thinking. What is it made of?—No answer.

Were there more than one at Stony hurst?—I have told you I don't know what you mean.

Was there more than one quadrangle at Stonyhurst?—I have said that I don't know whether there was or not.

Look at this photograph (Stonyhurst College), but not at the writing.—How is it possible I can do that?

The Solicitor General: Perhaps it is asking you too much, and I will withdraw it.

The Chief-Justice: Double the writing back.

The Solicitor-General: What picture is that?

The Chief-Justice: Do you recognise it at all?—No, I do not.

The Solicitor-General: Do you see any place you ever lived in there?—No.

Did you ever go to the seminary at Stonyhurst?—To what?

To the seminary?—Do you mean the cemetery?

No; the seminary.—Do you mean the separate buildings away from the college?

I don't know the place myself; but do you know the seminary?—I do not remember a place of that name.

And as far as you know you never went there?—No.

Was there any other place where you lived at Stonyhurst besides the college and this indescribable quadrangle?—I think not.

Did you have lectures there?—Yes; lectures were given occasionally.

Did you attend them?—Yes, I suppose so.

But did you in fact?—Yes.

Where did you attend them?—In the lecture-hall.

That you are sure of?—Yes.

Whereabouts in the college was the lecture-hall?—It was almost in the centre of the college.

Had you to go from the cottage to the lecture-hall, or did the lecturer come to you in the cottage?—No answer.

Which was it? You understand the question?—Yes, I understand the insulting way it is put. The lecturer would not come to the cottage. I have not said one thing or the other.

Did the tutors give you lectures when you were in the quadrangle?—I don't know what you mean when you speak of the tutors giving me lectures. There were lectures in the college, as a matter of course.

Were these private lectures given to you either at the cottage or the quadrangle? Were lectures given to you in your own room?—Yes, they were, but not in the regular college hours. They used to come and sit and talk to me at times.

No, that is not the question. I want to know whether your tutors gave you lectures in your room.—I did not say where the classes where held. The classes where all the boys were taught were to the left of the hall.

Were private lessons ever given to you in your own rooms?—Yes, at the first onset.

Who taught you?—Father Seed and Father Etheridge.

They both gave lessons at your cottage?—Yes, both of them, I think; I am certain about Father Seed.

What did Father Seed teach you?—The rudiments of the English language.

What else?—At that time, do you mean, or later on?

The first year?—Well, there was spelling and English grammar and arithmetic.

What sort of arithmetic had you learned in France?—I learned very little there— nothing more than division, subtraction, and so on; merely simple sums.

Do you think that the French and English arithmetic are about the same?—Yes, much the same, I should say.

What did you learn besides?—I don't distinctly remember anything, else.

Any history?—Yes.

Which, ancient or modern?—Ancient.

But the first year?—I believe I read modern history the first year.

What book?—I really do not know.

Name some one book. You were getting a young man then, you know.—There were different books.

Just a little book; I am not asking anything unreasouabie.—I can't think of one just in a moment.

What modern history did you read? Mrs. Markham or Magnall?—I can't say. It was a history of the different nations of the whole world.

Did you read about Australia, Brazil, and the like?—I do not call Australia a nation. I always understood it to belong to the British nation.

What English history did you read?—I can't remember.

Had you a French history, or such a thing as the grammar, or the arithmetic—had you not got your own little hooks, as other schoolboys had?—I had books from the college, certainly.

Do you remember whether you brought them away or not?—No, I can't.

Not your little lot of school-books?—No.

Have you seen them since?—No.

Did Lady Tichborne have them?—Not that I am aware of.

Have you not seen your little lot of school-books?—No, I have not seen them. You may have them, perhaps.

You have said that you kept a diary when abroad. When did you begin to keep one?—The diary you allude to I kept in my last trip to South America.

When did you begin to keep a diary? Did you keep one at Stonyhurst?—No, not so early as that. I kept a diary in 1852.

When did you begin to keen one at all?—I used to make notes from time to time.

When you were at Stonyhurst?—Yes, I believe I did towards the latter part of my stay there.

Did you begin as far back as 1847?—About 1848, I think.

What did you keep your diary in?—I used to make notes in a pocket-book, and transfer them into a diary.

What did you do with your pocket-books? Did you leave them behind you when you went to South America?—Yes, I should say so.

Have you seen them since?—No, I have not even thought of them.

Were they left with Lady Tichborne?—No; they were not.

With whom then did you leave them?—To the best of my belief, with Gosford.

The Court then adjourned for an hour.

The Court re-assembled at two o'clock, when the cross-examination was resumed.

The Solicitor-General: What sort of a place is Stonyhurst College? Is it a large building?—Yes, very large.

What range of buildings is there besides the college itself?—The church.

What else?—I don't remember any other.

You could see the church from the road?—Yes, I believe you could.

Are there any others besides the church?—I don't remember.

Are there any playgrounds?—Yes.

What kind are they?—There is the ground in front.

Is that a playground?—No.

I am asking you about the playgrounds. What kind are they?—There is a large extent of ground at the back.

What name has it?—I don't remember any name for it.

I am asking you about your school life. I am asking you whether, as in the case of all the great public schools, the playground went by a name?—It extended down to the river.

That is not a name. Surely none of us could forget the name of our playground?—But you have never been away, you know.

If you ask me, I believe I was at least twenty years without seeing the playground I know. May I take it for granted that the playground had no name?—Certainly not.

Then I suppose I may take it that it had a name, and you have forgotten it?—Yes.

I here was a cricket-ground?—Yes.

Where was it?—At the back of the church.

Did it consist of fields and trees?—It was more a lawn than anything else.

In your time there were no regular gardens there? —There was a garden, but not of any extent.

Where was the garden?—It was round the lawn.

Was there a flower-garden at Stonyhurst?—Not what you would call a regular kept garden.

Were there any walks there?—Yes.

What kind of walks?—There were walks near the river.

I don't mean that. Were there regular gravel walks, as there are in South Kensington?—Yes, gravel walks ran round the building in different parts, and there is a long gravel walk in front.

Oh, yes; but you can see that from the road. Can you see the flowers from road?— I should think not; it is too far.

How near was the place to the river?—The river ran up to the side.

What river is it?—The Ribble runs to the side, and the Hodder runs into the Ribble.

What games did you play?—I played cricket.

What else?—Sometimes we played hockey.

Where did you play that?—At the back.

In the cricket field?—No; a piece of ground off the cricket field and forming part ot the same green.

I suppose you played cricket in summer. When did you play hockey?—I don't remember.

Any other game?—Yes; football.

When did you play it?—At various times. I can't tell at what times of the year.

Any other game?—I don't remember any other.

How many young gentlemen were there in Stonyhurst in your time?—I think there were from 150 to 180, more or less.

How many philosophers wore there?—I think from 80 to 90.

Was that in addition to the number you gave me, or was it included?—They were included.

Did the philosophers live in the same part of the building as the other students, or were they in a different place?—They were in a separate place.

Where was it?—At the right of the college.

You lived, you say, in a quadrangle to the left, and they lived in a quadrangle to the right?—Yes.

Then you lived separately from the philosophers?—There, you are trying to catch me again.

There is no catching in the matter. You say you lived in a cottage and afterwards in a quadrangle at the left, and that they lived at the right?—Y'es, they lived at the opposite side of the college.

You are sure about that?—Yes, to the best of my memory.

To the best of your memory. Have yon any doubt where you and the philosophers lived?—No.

Will you swear it?—I won't.

Will you pledge your memory as to the part of the college in which the class to which you belonged for three years resided?—Yes, that is my memory.

Will you swear it?—I will not.

Why not? Why not swear where your class lived for three years? — I said it was to the left.

And the others lived to the right?—No, I never said so.

Yes you did, and I will call the shorthand writer to read what you did say.—I intended to say that the philosophers lived at the left of the college.

Did the philosophers have dormitories?—Yes, they had sleeping-rooms.

Did they sleep more than one together?—Yes.

That you swear?—Yes.

Were they domitories on the same floor, or on a different floor?—On a different floor

Had they sitting-rooms?—Yes, but not all.

Had you —Yes, I had a cottage and a sitting-room to myself.

And a bedroom?—Yes.

And you have no doubt about it?—No.

Where was the sitting-room for the general mass of the philosophers?—There was one on the first floor.

How many sat there?—From eighteen to twenty.

How many of the philosophers slept together?—From twelve to twenty.

What were the hours kept by the philosophers? What time did you get up?—Between six and seven.

When you got up, what did you do?—Prepared for the lessons of the day.

Did you do anything else?—We went to prayers.

Where?—Into a small church at the back of the college. It was not used for mass at the time. Sometimes we went to mass of a morning.

What time:—There was seven o'clock mass and eight o'clock mass.

Taking an ordinary week-day, what did you do when yon got up?—We went to prayers at seven o'clock.

When did you breakfast?—At eight o'clock.

Did you breakfast together as a common meal?—Together, as a rule.

Where?—In the room used for breakfast and dining too.

Did the philosophers and the students have breakfast together;—No, they were apart; the larger part of the philosophers breakfasted together.

That you are certain of?—I shouldn't have said so if I wasn t.

Will you swear it?—No, I won't.

Surely if you are certain, you can swear it?—I am speaking from memory, and I may be wrong.

And your memory may deceive you?— I don't think so.

Why will you not swear that what you have said about the breakfast at Stonyhurst for the three years of your college life is not true?—Simply because I do not see any occasion for it; I have stated my memory of it.

When did you dine?—About one.

Will you swea$$Unclear$$ it?—No.

Will you not swear at what hour you habitually dined at Stonyhurst for three years?—Between one and two.

Will you pledge your oath to it?—That is my memory, and I believe it.

Then you won't swear to your habitual hour of dinner at college?—I won't.

Have you forgotten?—I haven't.

If you haven't forgotten, why won't you swear it?—I won t.

It strikes me as curious that although you are sure of a thing you won't swear to it?— If I swear one way or the other you can get twenty or a hundred people to swear the other way. Detectives have been about for four years, and I know what bribery h$$Unclear$$ been going on. A man has been coaching your Chili witnesses for five years, and there was another in Australia doing the same thing.

This is all on oath?—Yes; but I have not said a single word that is false.

What were the school days of the week at Stonyhurst?—We had Saturday free.

That you'll swear, perhaps?—No, it was Friday or Saturday. At the school I was at there was a great difference between Friday and Saturday.

Had you a whole holiday on the Saturday?—I can't swear it. My memory is not sufficient to tell it.

What was Monday in common weeks? Was it a whole work day?—Yes, I think so.

What was Tuesday?—The same.

Wednesday?—I really don't remember. There was some relaxation, I think.

What was Thursday?—I think they were all work days except Saturday.

Surely you can pledge your oath as to what was the ordinary course of work during the week at Stonyhurst. Is what you stated your recollection?—Yes; my brain is in such a state that I won't swear to anything.

You say you went through the ordinary course, and that Father Seed and Father Etheridere instructed you?—Yes.

What was the course at Stonyhurst so far as you pursued it?—I don't exactly understand what you mean.

You say that the first year you learned, a little arithmetic, spelling, and history. What lectures did you attend?—Some in Hebrew, and Latin,, and Greek.

I'm afraid I can't test you in Hebrew. (Laughter.). Can you read Hebrew now? Not a word.

Is there any difference between the reading of Hebrew and other languages?—Yes, a great difference.

In what respect?—In the phrases.

If you learned Hebrew, you can tell me the difference between the reading of it and the reading of Latin or French?—No.

You havn't ascertained that it is read from right to left instead from left to right? No.

Have you sturdied Greek?—Yes.

Did your studies in Greek go as far as the alphabet?—I don't know.

You must remember that?—I went there unprepared.

Could you make out Greek at the time?—Perhaps a sentence.

Could you read the first chapter of St. John?—No.

Does any of it linger on your mind now?—Not a bit of it.

Could you give us Greek for " and?"—No, I am not going to do anything of the kind.

Did you get on better with the Latin? —I believe I got farther in Latin.

Did you learn the Latin alphabet?—Of course I did.

Could you read a line of Latin now?—I'm certain I could not.

Did you learn Virgil?—I don't know.

Did you do a bit of Cæsar?—I don't know.

Was Cæsar in verse or prose?—I don't recollect.

Was Cæsar a Latin writer or a Greek writer?—I can't say; I suppose it was Greek. (Laughter.)

That was the Stonyhurst edition, I suppose. Did you ever hear of a menstruum! —A menstruum?

Should you be surprised to find that Roger Charles Tichborne took part in a menstruum, which is a monthly examination at Stonyhurst?—I shouldn't be at all surprised.

Now that I have told you what it is, do you remember who prepared you for your examination for the menstruum ?—I don't remember.

Do you know who is Virgil? Is he Latin or Greek?—No, I have no recollection.

Have you ever heard of Virgil?—Of course I have.

Who is he?—I don't know.

Is he a general, or a statesman, or what is he?—I told you just now I totally forget.

Do you know what he wrote about—geography, or what?—I don't know.

Was he Greek or Latin?—I don't know.

Did he write verse or prose?—I don't know; my recollection is entirely gone.

Look at that (copy of Virgil produced). What is it? Is it Greek or Latin?—It appears to me to be Greek. (Laughter.) I can't say.

It is Greek to you, anyhow. Did you learn any mathematics?—Yes.

How far did you go?—My recollection can't carry me back to what I learned in anything.

What is your notion of mathematics? What do you mean by mathematics?—No answer.

What are they all about? What did you learn?—I have no recolleciion of what I learnt.

Is it the same thing as chemistry?—I should say, No. I won't answer. I have no recollection.

Is chemistry a branch of mathematics?—Chemistry is a science by itself.

And what is mathematics?—I have no recollection.

What book in mathematics did you read?—I have no recollection.

What is it written in?—I can't tell.

Do you remember who you read it with?—No.

Did you ever learn Euclid?—I can't say.

Has Euclid anything to do with mathematics?—No. (Laughter.)

Has algebra anything to do with mathematics?—I have no recollection; that is. why you are taking advantage of me.

Can you tell me whether you read any Euclid or not?—I believe I did; but I have no recollection.

Have you heard of the Asses' Bridge?—I don't recollect.

Did you ever try to get over it? (Laughter.)—No answer.

Do you know what it is?—No, I don't.

Where would you look to find the Asses' Bridge?—No answer.

Did you ever try to cross the Asses' Bridge?—I have no recollection.

Did anybody try his best to help you over the Asses' Bridge? (Laughter.)—No answer.

Do you know where it is? How far from Stonyhurst? (Much laughter.)-—I can put up with all your insulting.

Then yon haven't heard of pons asinorum?—No answer.

Did you learn any chemistry?—I don't know, but I think I did.

What is chemistry?—It is about chemistry, of course.

I know. History is about history, and so on. I ask you what it is about?—About different herbs and poisons, and the substance of medicines.

Do you mean what is in a chemist's shop?—I think a dose of it would do you good. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice: I told you yesterday these observations would do you no good.

Claimant: It is very hard, my lord. I'm trying to do my best.

The Solicitor-General: What books in chemistry did you use?—I don't remember.

Don't you remember the name of any elementary books?—No.

Can you tell the difference between alkalis and acids?—No; I used to dissolve gold in acids.

Which of the acids which you tried dissolved it quickest?—You are taxing my memory too much. I know that nitro-muriatic acid dissolves gold.

Did you learn that at Stonyhurst or at the Omao diggings in Australia?—At Stonyhurst.

You have found it useful at the diggings, I daresay?—I never heard of it at the diggings.

Did you attend any lectures in philosophy?—Yes, I believe I did.

Moral philosophy, or metaphysics, or what?—I can't say. I have no recollection.

Did you attend any lectures in physiology?—I don't remember.

Do you know what physiology is?—It is about the appearance of the face.

That is physiognomy. What is physiology?—The formation of the head, I believe.

Do you know what metaphysics are?—No; I have no recollection.

Can you tell me the names of any other teachers at Stonyhurst besides Seed and Etheridge?—Yes: there was Father Rigby.

What did he teach you? —I don't recollect what branch it was.

What is your impression as to what Father Rigby taught you?—I can't recollect.

Upon your oath, did Father Seed ever teach you a single syllable of any single thing in all your life? Was he not professor of Greek at Stonyhurst the whole time you were there?—I think not the whole time.

Will yon swear it?—No.

What did he teach you?—I don't remember.

What will yon pledge your oath that he did teach yon?—I will swear he did teach me.

What sort of a looking man was Father Seed?—He was light.

Was he younger or older than you?—Older, of course.

And yon swear he taught you something at Stonyhurst?—Yes.

What it is you don't know?—Yes.

Will you swear that during the three years you were at Stonyhurst there were more than twenty-eight philosophers in all?—I think so.

Will yon swear it?—Well, of course, you have the books there.

Don't mind that. Will you swear there were more than twelve or thirteen?—I can't say.

Do you mean to state that you can't say whether there were twelve or thirteen, or eighty or ninety?—Oh, ridiculous; there are more than twelve or thirteen.

Will you swear there were as many as twenty at any one time?—My impression is there were a great deal more.

Will you swear that there were?—I'm speaking from the best of my memory. I don't think I have a right to swear it, as I haven't a perfect recollection as to the number. I believe now I'm right.

Will you swear you are right? These were your college days, you know, and surely you can tell whether those of whom you were one numbered from ten to twenty, or from eighty to ninety at any time during your stay there. Will you swear it?—No.

Then why did you tell me there were from eighty to ninety if you can't swear there were more than twenty?—No answer.

Did not these twelve or thirteen philosophers, including Roger Charles Tichborne, live altogether in a separate building apart from the college, and with two or three of the fathers?—No, they did not.

Are you prepared to swear that during the time you were at Stonyhurst you lived in any part of the college except in a separate building with the other philosophers and two or three of the fathers?—Yes.

Did you ever hear of " bandy? "—Do you mean the nick-name of a person?

Never mind what I mean; I will tell you by-and-by. Did you ever hear of " bandy? "Yes; I think I have.

What is " bandy "?—The name is very familiar to me, but I don't know what it is

What does " bandy" mean?—To the best of my recollection, it strikes me part of Stonyhurst was called " Bandy."

Can you swear it?—No.

Is it a dog, or a cat, or a woman, or what is it?—I believe it is part of the building.

Does " bandy come with, a Stonyhurst sort of flavour to you?—I have no recollection. I don't know what you mean by " flavour."

I beg your pardon. Does it come with Stonyhurst recollections?—Yes, it does.

what was there connected with " bandy "?—I don't know.

Would it surprise you that " bandy" was a game played with balls by the philosophers at Stonyhurst, and in which Roger Charles Tichborne was a great proficient?—I wasn't a proficient at it.

Do you recollect anything about it?—My memory isn't correct enough to enable $$Unclear$$ to speak of it.

The Solicitor-General: Well, there is a difference between a game and a part of a building you know.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

TWENTY-THIRD DAY.—WEDNESDAY, JUNE 14.

TWENTY-SECOND DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued a Were there two classes of scholars at Stony hurst?—Yes.

And only two?—Yes.

And one class was called the philosophers and the other the laity?—Yes.

Did the ordinary students go by the name of the laity? What do you mean by the distinction between the philosophers and the laity?—The students, or laity, were studying for the Church. They were for the most part young men who were preparing for holy orders.

Were the laity divided into any other classes, and known by other names?—I don't recollect whether they were or not.

Were there any estabilshments connected with Stonyhurst, or attached to it?—I don't remember.

Where did most of the students who were preparing for holy orders come from, before they got to Stonyhurst?—I am sure I don't know.

Were there any establishments which supplied Stonyhurst with pupils?—I don't remember any.

Where is Hurst-green?—I don't know.

Where is Hodder?—That is an establishment, I think, on the banks of the river Hodder.

What is done in that building?—It is generally where the fathers go to retreat.

How far is that from Stonyhurst?—About a quarter of a mile, I should say.

And that is where the fathers went to retreat?—I fancy so; I am not very certain about it? I have an impression that it was so.

What made you have the impression? Have you ever been there?—I don't know

How long does retreat last?—Less than a month, I think.

Is it somewhere between a week and a month?—That's about it.

What was done at Hodder when the fathers did not go there to retreat?—I don't know what went on there.

Should you be surprised to find that Hodder was generally occupied by novices after they left Stonyhurst and before they took orders?—No, I should not. I don't remember much about it.

Can you tell what the different divisions were at Stonyhurst? Were there different forms?—I cannot recollect.

were they divided into classes?—Of course there would be different classes.

What would be the names of these classes? Would they be first, second, and third form, and so on—speaking of classes?—I know what you mean, but I have not sufficient language to explain myself.

Can von give me the name of one class or division?—Each had different masters.

Tell me the name of one class?—I don't remember one.

Have you forgotten?—Yes, I have.

Or did you never know?—Of course I knew.

Have you forgotten the name of any single class or division through which a boy would pass? Is that what you mean to say?—Yes.

Yesterday you could not tell me what were the holidays. Now, what were the vacations at Stonyhurst?—There were three vacations, if I remember rightly.

When were they?—One was about March, I think.

The second?—At Midsummer.

The third?—Towards the end of the year.

Did the students and the philosophers, and the whole lot of the establishment, with the exception of the fathers, go away at the vacations?—The philosophers did. I cannot say anything as to the students. I believe that some of them kept the vacation.

Which of the students?—I have no distinct recollection of what really did take place. I have told you all I know.

Now I will ask you this. Was there a distinction between one class and another with respect to keeping holidays?—I have told you before I don't know what vacations the students had at all.

Do you mean to say that as a rule the students kept three vacations in a year?—I never said they did. I said the philosophers did.

Do you believe that some of the students Kept those vacations?—I have no reconnection one way or the other.

Did you live so separately from them that you did not know or their going or coming?—I don't remember.

You must have known at the time Very probably I (did

Then did you live so separately from them that you would not know when they went and came?—No, I think not.

Is it your belief that they went and came as you did?—I have no remembrance.

Can't you remember whether the school broke up at a certain time and reassembled at another?—My impression is that some of them did and some did not.

What is the distinction?—I have no impression on the subject.

What class or sort of students was it who went away? what is your impression upon the subject?—My impression is that those who were studying for holy orders remained there.

All through the year?—No; they were not there all the year.

Do I understand you that the great majority of the students stayed there the year round, or what do you mean to say?—I don't remember sufficiently to explain it; but I believe it was as I have already said.

How long did the philosophers' vacations last?—About six weeks.

Take the one at Midsummer—when did it begin and end? That was a vacation you kept yourself. When did that begin?—Some time about June or July.

Do you mean to say you have forgotten what time your own summer Holidays began?—They began at Midsummer.

At or about Midsummer day?—Yes, that was about the time.

Cannot you tell the jury with something like precision when your holidays began? To the best of my recollection, about Midsummer. What elso do you wish me to say? Do you want me to say that I don't know?

Cannot you tell me within a fortnight or a month when your summer holidays began?—I don't recollect what month, but I think now it was later on than I have stated.

The jury said they were unable to catch the answers of the claimant distinctly.

The Chief-Justice said that he had already told the claimant that it would be impossible for the jury to decide upon his case if they could not hear him.

The Claimant: I have been very ill all the morning, and that may account for it, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Do yon mean to say that you don't know when the holidays were?—I think they were in April, August, aud December. The Midsummer holidays, as they were called, would take place in August.

When did your vacation end? How long did it last? About six weeks, I think.

Is that your recollection?—I know it was six weeks in the winter.

I want to know how long the vacation lasted which began in June, July, or August?—About three weeks, I believe.

Cannot you be sure of it?—I am as sure as any one can be without having any record of it.

Was that about the length?—Yes.

Is there any doubt about that?—You seem to have one.

Is there any doubt about it?—I have told you all I know.

You are sure the summer holidays were about three weeks?—Yes, at the August vacation.

When did the winter vacation begin?—Some time in December.

Yes, I know; but was it about Christmas?—Yes, some days previovsly.

Was it at the beginning or the end of December that you went away Stonyhurst for your Christmas holidays?—It was somewhere about the middle of the month, I think; I am not certain to a day or two.

Is that the nearest you can give me?—I can't give you the day.

But give me some notion. I should think that a schoolboy could never forget his holidays.—No answer.

How long did the Christmas vacation last?—About six weeks.

Will you swear that six weeks represents the time?—That was about the time.

Will you swear it?—No.

Why not?—Because I am merely speaking from memory. I havo already told you all that I know.

Will you swear that your Christmas holidays were about six weeks long?—Yes, I will swear it.

What was the length of your April holidays? When did they begin?—Sometimes at the commencement of the month, sometimes later on. They lasted about three weeks.

What governed the holidays?—I think they were regulated by certain holy days.

What holy days?—I think Good Friday generally regulated them.

Did you spend Good Friday at the college or not?—Yes, I think so.

Will you swear you did? Surely you can recollect that, because there are special services in your religion. Will you swear you ever spent a Good Friday in your life at Stonyhurst?—I believe I did.

Will you swear to it?—No, I won't.

Surely you can't have forgotten whether you went through the solemn service of your church on Gocd Friday at Stonyhurst?—I tell you that I believe I did.

Will you swear that you ever did?—No, I won't swear to it.

Why upon earth not?—Because you seem so anxious to get me to do it.

Then you answer according to what you think I wish you to do?—No, I do not

"Will you swear you ever did?—No, I tell you I won't.

Then your only reason is because you think that I wish you to?—That's about it.

Is that your reason for declining to swear?—My recollection tells me that I was there.

What is your reason tor not swearing to it?—Your anxiety to get me to do it. I know very well that you have it on record day by day, whilst I am only speaking from memory alone. There might be such a thing, and I might be mistaken about it; but you can't make a mistake, because you have got it all there.

Will you swear you ever spent Good Friday at Stonyhurst?—No, I will not.

How long did the students have for their vacation? - I don't know. I did not keep the rules myself, so cannot say when the students left and came back again.

Now, would it surprise you if I were to tell you that the summer vacation of the philosophers, of which you were one, lasted more than two months; that the vacation at Christmas lasted a week, and the same at Easter; and that the students never went away at all except in the summer?—No, because it is not true.

Is it false?—My impression is that it is raise.

Will you swear to it?—No, I will not. You have it on record. I am speaking from memory, and may be mistaken. I know that I never returned in a week. It is evident I have mistaken the winter months for the summer.

You have forgotten that the seven classes were elements, figures, rudiments, grammar, syntax, poetry, and rhetoric?—Yes.

When before Mr. Roupell did you pronounce "Petre" as "Petray"?—I think not; but I will not swear that I did. You don't suppose that I can recollect all that I said before that gentleman.

You will swear you did not at that time see the list of the Jesuit Fathers that was procured from ritonyhurst?—Yes, I will. I have no recollection of seeing it previous to being examined by Mr. Roupell.

Do you know that " Petre " is spelt P-e-t-r-e?—Yes, I do.

Will you swear that there was any person of that name at Stonyhurst whilst you were there?—Yes; I met him after that a good deal.

When before Mr. Roupell you gave two names—Petre and Arundel. Will you swear there was a man named Petre at any time you were there?—Yes, I believe there was.

What Arundel was this?—Everard Arundel.

What was he?—A student, I believe.

You are sure of that?—Yes.

Will you swear it?—I am quite certain about it.

Then you can swear it?—I believe he was; but I won't swear it.

Can you tell me the name of any other student or philosopher who was there?—Yes; young Mr. Berkeley was there.

Any other name?—Mr. Seagar.

What was he?—A philosopher.

His Christian name?— Henry, I think.

Has he made an affidavit for you?—I am not aware or it. I do' t saythmathnemight not hav tdone. If he liave clone. If he has I have not seen it.

Don't you know Mr. Guy has seen him?—Yes; Mr. Guy went with me to see him.

What was the Christian name of Mr. Berkeley?—I don't know. There were two of them.

Were they students, or what?—They were philosophers, I think.

Both of them?—One of them was I Know.

Can you think of any one else?—No, I don't recollect.

Was Mr. Clough—which was pronounced as "Clow" before Mr. Roupell—ever at Stonyhurst?—Yes, he was.

Will you swear?—I have not seen him there.

Did he ever reside at Stonyhurst for a single hour?—Yes, he was there.

Was he there for a day?—Yes, he certainly was. I saw Father Clough there on several occasions.

Did he for a day reside at Stonyhurst whilst you were there?—I believe he did. I know he did.

Then why don't you swear it?—I am certain he did.

Why won't you swear to it, if you are certain?—I'll not swear to it.

You have said there was a foreigner named Glunderell there, an Italian. Will you swear to him?—If that was not the name, it was something very similar. I don't remember the name myself now.

Why did you mention it before Mr. Roupell?—I suppose I thought of it at that time.

Will you swear to it?—I know there was an Italian there.

I dare say there were people from all parts of the world?—I did not say there were Chinese there. (A laugh.)

The Solicitor-General: A smart answer that. I am glad to see you are better.

The Claimant: Not a great deal.

Did you see persons from many foreign countries there?—Yes.

Thank you. Then there were no Chinese?—No.

Do you remember any person of the name of Lafonton or Lafontaine?—I don't recollect.

Do you remember any people of colour being there?—Do you mean of a dark colour or black?

I mean what you would call people of colour. I suppose you know what that means?—No, I can't say. Do you mean Creoles?

No; Creoles may be as white as snow.Do you mean mulattos?

No; I am asking you if you remember people of colour being there?— Well, there were dark people.

Where did they come from?—I don't know.

What wore the duties of the lay brothers?—They attended to the wants of the priests and so on. They were persons who devoted themselves to religion, and assisted all they could in the cause of it. There were ordinary servants besides. There was only one superior that I remember. There was no superior of the seminary.

Was there not a superior of the seminary who was the head master of the philosophers?— No; I believe there was no superior excepting Walmesley, and he superintented everything.

You think he was rector of Stonyhurst, then?—Most undoubtedly.

Was not a gentleman named Norris the superior of Stonyhurst when you went there?—No.

Did Father Walmesley remain as the head during the whole time yon were there? No, there were a great many.

Who was there besides?—I don't recollect.

Was there besides a prefect of the philosophers?—Yes.

What was he?—He is not known as a superior

Was there a prefect of philosophers?—I don't recollect any office under that name.

No such person at all?—There was a superior, but he was not known as a superior over the masters.

But was there a prefect of philosophers?—I don't remember any one under that name.

Did you know Mr. Bird?—Yes.

Who was he?—One of the fathers.

What did he do?—Really I don't remember what he was in the habit of doing. He was one of the head masters.

What did he teach?—I don't remember.

Had he anything to do with the philosophers?—He was a kind of head master. I suppose you would call him a superior.

What did ho teach?—Well, really, I don't know.

You say you also remember Father M'Cann. Was be at Stonyhurst all the time you were there?—No, but few of them were there during that period.

what did M'Cann do? Are you sure that name was not taken for Mann?—My belief is that I knew Father Mann. I have no recollection of M'Cann.

It is so in the shorthand notes and in the examination before Mr. Roupell.

Do you recollect a man named M'Cann?—No, I do not. I might have remembered the name then, but I don't now.

Should you be surprised to find there was a man named John M'Cann, who was prefect of the philosophers, who was constantly in communication with yourself, and who left Stonyhurst at a moment's notice?—No, I don't remember; I don't think there was.

Was there a person named Pater there?—I don't remember.

Should you be surprised to hear that Roger Tichborne attended lectures by Mr. Bird and Sir. Pater?—I am not aware that I have said one thing or the other.

Whilst at Stonyhurst you went, you say, to Burton Constable?—Yes.

You recollect the theatricals?—Yes.

What were they?—I don't remember the name of the piece.

Were you a spectator or an actor?—I played one of the musical instruments.

What did you play?—The French horn.

But did you play in the piece?—No, I think not.

You recollect helping round the wine when the butler was away, and cutting down the hedge—surely you can recollect whether you played in the piece or not?— No, I cannot. I think now the piece was called " Popping the Question."

My question is, whether you remember playing in it?—No, I think I did not.

Will you swear it?—No.

Let me remind you. about handing round the wine.You are reminding me, I think, in a very insulting manner. Y'u are reminding me of other people's evidence, and not my own.

I am reminding you of what Sir Clifford Constable said. He would not tell a falsehood, you know. Was there anything else played besides " Popping the Question?"—I can't say. I have not read his evidence, but will do so to-night.

I dare say you know what it is?—I may know the substance, but not the details.

Can't you give me this detail—what else was played there? No, I cannot. Do you mean on the same evening?

I mean when you went to Sir Talbot Constable's, when you handed round the wine, and cut down the hedge, and so forth?—Have you got all that down on paper?

I am glad to see you are so fresh. Cannot you answer the question?— I don't remember.

Do you recollect any French being played there?—Yes, I think so.

Then there was a French piece played there?—Yes.

Now tell me the name of it?—That I can't.

I should have thought you would give me an answer like lightning?—No, not like lightning.

What did you play, prince or servant?—I don't recollect.

You say there was a French piece?—Yes, I believe it was a French character in an English piece.

Now we are getting very close to it—quite warm, as they say. Tell me all about it.—I don't recollect anything more.

Then there was a French officer in an English piece?—I have not said it was a French piece.

Surely, you can give me the name of the officer?—No, I can't.

Did you play anything besides?

The Chief-Justice: I do not understand that he played any character.

The Solicitor-General: I understood so.

The Claimant: No; I said there was a French officer in an English piece.

The Solicitor-General: Then I beg your pardon. Did you play anything at all?—Do you mean as an actor?

Yes?—I don't think I did.

Will you swear that you did not?—I wish I had Known you were going to ask me all these questions; I would have put them down. (Laughter.)

No doubt. But did you act anything at all at Burton Constable? Are you asking me on that particular night?

I mean on the occasion of your visit.I thought you meant on that one night.

Did you act anything else?—Yes, I did; I danced the "can-can" before a lot of ladies and gentlemen in the library. (Laughter.)

That was in 1847?—I am just thinking.

Will you swear?—Yes, and I am positive about it.

Did you play or take part in anything? You recollect the dancing, Did you act a part on that occasion?—No, I don't recollect acting any part.

Will you swear you did not?—Wait a little, and I may recollect all you are asking me about.

Will you swear you did not act a part?—You seem very anxious to get me to swear to things that I don't recollect.

Do you think you did or did not act a part?,No 1Idon ' think; Idid. Itf1Idid it was something very simple.

Can't you pledge yourself whether you took a part before the company at Burton Constable?—I tell you, to the best of my belief, I did not.

Was Mr. Percival Radeliffe there?—Well, he says he was, but I don't believe it.

Will you swear you did not act with him?—Yes, that I will.

Did you take any part in any performance with him?—No, that I did not.

Will you swear you did not?—Yes; I did not.

Would you be surprised to find that Roger Tichborne acted the part of a French student with Mr. Radcliffe as another French student? No, I should not. I take it for granted that you are going to try to prove that all this is untrue, because you keep on asking me if I should bo surprised to hear so and so.

Did you ever play with any theatricals at any other place?—I have no recollection.

Did you ever play at any house you were staying at?—I have no recollection of doing so.

Surely you can remember?—I have some idea that I did.

Where?—I think it was in Worcestershire.

Where in Worcestershire?—At Mr. Berkeley's house.

When?—In 1849.

After you left Stonyhurst?—Yes.

What did you play there—do you remember?—No, I do not.

Just look at this little book, and read it. Have you ever seen anything like it before?—(Perusing the book.) I don't know that I have ever seen it.

You have read part of the play?—Yes.

Where do you think you have seen the book?—I did not say where.

where have you read the play, "The Castle or Andalusia, a comic opera, in three acts, by John O'Keefe"? Did you play the music to it?—No, I don't remember.

Look at the book again, and read the list of characters. Did you ever take a part in it?—I think not.

Surely you can recollect that?—I don't think I ever did.

Will you swear it?—I say that I don't think I ever did.

Surely you recollect "The Castle of Andalusia"—perhaps you sung the songs when in the Carabineers?—I object to you saying what I did. I say that I don't remember taking part in the play.

Will you swear it?—It seems to be your impression that you ought to get me to swear anything.

Will you swear you never took part in " The Castle of Andalusia "?—No, I don't think I ever did.

Will you swear you did not?—I don't think I did. Allow me to see the book again.

Certainly.—(The Claimant perused the book.) No, I don't think I did.

Do you think you have forgotten it?—It is impossible to say what I have forgotten. I say that I don't think I did.

Are you confident you did not?—No, I don't think I did.

Did you ever hear of a farce called " No Dinner, but However "?— No, I did not.

The Solicitor-General repeated the question.

Well, I have taken a part in " no dinner " often enough. (Laughter.)

I am glad to see that your spirits are so good. Now that you have cut your joke I will ask you the question again. Will you swear that you did not?—I won't swear one way or the other.

Have you seen any private theatricals elsewhere?—No, I don't remember. I have seen private theatricals in many places; but I cannot remember what I have seen my whole life through.

Is there any other place?—I don't remember.

Have you seen them elsewhere?—Oh, I have seen them in lots of places—fifty times perhaps during my lifetime.

You have given me two places—Burton Constable and Mr. Berkeley's, in Worcestershire—now give me another?—I can't recollect one.

Did you see them at Upton, at Poole, or when you were at school?—I don't remember.

I have here a playbill of Stonyhurst, at which you shall look in a moment.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You can't say it is a playbill of Stonyhurst.

The Solicitor-General: Very well (handing it to witness). Is that a Stonyhnrst playbill?—Yes, it is.

And in that the philosophers played the "Castle of Andalusia," and Roger Tieh borne took the part of Rapino?—That was in 1846, and you expect me to remember it all.

The Chief-Justice: Do you remember it?—I have some notion of it now, my lord.

And in "No Dinner, but However," Roger Tichborne played?—Yes, it might be so. I remember something about it now.

What is the meaning of the letters "A. M. D. G," that were put up in every room at Stonyhurst?—No, I cannot say. It don't flash across my memory just now.

Is it a fact that those letters were printed in every book, and stood at the head or every exercise at Stonyhurst?—All I can say is, that I don't remember it.

I will tell you what they mean.

The Chief Justice: You may ask him what they mean.

The Solicitor-General: Do they not mean, "Ad Majorem Dei Gloriam?"—No doubt it does. The two last words are "God's glory." I don't know what the others mean.

What does this mean—L. D. S.?—I don't remember.

Were they not printed on almost all the bills and matters at Stonyhurst?—Not to the extent you try to represent.

Then they were printed to some extent?—No. I have no recollection of them. They might have been printed as you say.

What did they mean?—I forget.

Did you ever know?—No doubt I did.

Surely you can tell me what the letters " L. D.S." mean? You haye said it was commonly printed on the papers at Stonyhurst.—You said that.

Surely you know what the words " Laus Deo Semper " mean? Are they LatinL or French?—They mean the laws of God for ever, or permanently. (Laughter.)

Look at this. What do you call it?—I should say it is a piece of music.

Can you read it?—No; the man who wrote it had not a very steady hand, I should say.

Can you play on the horn?—No, not now; I can play on almost any other instrument.

Do you play tunes by ear?—By notes and ear.

How is music written for the horn? What key is it always in?—Really, I don't remember. I have not looked at horn music for many years. I am not aware there is any difference between the music for the horn and any other instrument.

Do you know this music book?—Yes.

It appears to be Sir Roger's Tickborne's book. Take this piece and see whether the upper line of those three is written for the horn. Does it not profess to be written for the horn and piano?—No answer.

Is this a book that yourself have played from?—Yes.

It has on it a label, Mr. R. C. Tichborne, 6th Carabineers." Is that line for the horn written in the same key as the two lines for the piano?— I don't know that I can explain it. The top line is for a solo in F.

What are the other two lines for?—The piano.

They are not in F; what are they for?—I will not undertake to say.

Is the music for the horn written in the same key as the rest of the music? Just look at the book again.—Good gracious, do you want me to see that book again? I have never said that I played the piano from it. There is the music for the cornet-à-piston.

Can horn music be written in the same key as that tor the piano?—There is no music here but what can be played on the cornet. What else do you want to know? Good gracious me! I don't know what else you want.

Is not the top line written without any flats, and the piano lines with three flats?— I don't see any difference between this and other music. The flats are as you state.

Why is that?—Because you can't get down to the flats.

Just so. (Laughter.) What is a flat?—I am not going to explain it.

At this stage of the case the Court adjourned, reassembling at ten minutes past two, when the cross-examination was resumed.

The Solicitor-General: Do you recollect any jokes at all—any incidents that happened at Stonyhurst when you were there? Did they make you a subject of practical jokes?—I believe they did.

What happened to you?—I can't tax my memory.

Can't you remember any joke played upon you?—No.

Did you ever pass any time on the roof of the house?—I don't remember.

Or a window-sill?—No.

Or a flue?—No, I don't remember ever being up a flue. (A laugh.)

Those suggestions don't bring anything to your recollection?—No answer.

Did you smoke there a good deal?—Yes.

When did you smoke?—Whenever I could get an opportunity.

Was it allowed there?—Yes.

Do you really mean that?—Yes.

Where used you to smoke?—Anywhere on the grounds.

What sort of hedges were there; high or low?—There were hedges at the back of the ground.

Yea, I know; but were they—high or low?—I should think that depended upon the time of year. They were usually kept high.

Did you ever smoke behind the hedges?—Yes, frequently.

Weren't the hedges at Stonyhurst out down short to prevent you and others smoking behind them?—I don't remember.

Question repeated.I think not.

Will you swear not?—It is impossible for me to swear that.

Do you recollect anything happening in a wood at Stonyhurst?—A wood at Stonyhurst?

Yes, connected with smoking?—No.

Did you and others do anything in a wood about smoking?—I don't remember doing anything particularly.

Well, did you and others do anything generally in a wood at Stonyhurst about smoking?—Not that I remember.

Did not Roger Charles Tichborne and others build a little cabin, with their own hands, at Stonyhurst. in order that they might smoke without being observed?—You don't mean the wood at Clitheroe?

I mean the wood at Stonyhurst.—I don't remember.

Did yon ever build a shed or summer-house anywhere at Stonyhurst?—I don't know.

Will you swear 'tis untrue?—It mightn't be untrue, but I don't remember it.

Do you recollect what became of the cabin?—When I don't remember the cabin, surely I can't remember what became of it.

Do you know that Father Rigby found it out, and pulled it down;—It might have been the case.

But was it?—I don't remember.

Didn't you one day light a fire in the hut, and didn't the fathers, having seen the smoke through the trees, go there and pull the hut down? Didn't that happen? Certainly not.

Did the thing happen?—I don't think it did.

Will you swear it didn't?—No answer.

Have you forgotten it?—Yes.

Do you recollect smoking anywhere else, or doing anything else about smoking No.

Did you get into a flue by a ladder, and smoke in the flue?—No answer.

Now, come! That you can have hardly forgotten, if it is true.Do you mean hb a flue, a chimney?

I mean by a flue, a flue. Did you go in there by a ladder and smoke?—I think not.

Will you swear not? Surely you can tell me; that isn't an every day occurrence.

The Chief-Justice (to the Solicitor-General): If your case is correct, how can he swear one way or the other? Of course you know your own case, and I don't. On looking oyer the evidence, I find the expression " I won't swear it," two or three times over. The question is one of identity, and it depends on the side on the plaintiff recollecting things, and on your side that he has no recollection. If you have asked him once it seems to me that everything is answered. There must be great latitude allowed in cross-examination; but it strikes me that repetition of this kind does not add to your case.

The Solicitor-General: Of course, my lord, I submit to anything your lordship thinks right in the matter.

The Chief-Justice: I cannot restrict you, but I can throw out suggestion. If your case be true he cannot know the fact. Therefore, how can he swear to the faot or not?

The Solicitor-General: On the other hand, if my learned friend's case is true, I shall submit by and by that the claimant must remember these things.

The Chief-Justice: Of course, that is the direct issue. But if you press the plaintiff as to what did or did not occur, I don't see how your case is promoted by pressing when he does not remember.

The Solicitor-General: I am in this difficulty—If I treat the witness as the person I say he is, it will he rude.

The Chief-Justice: I don't see how pressing him as to whether a certain thing did or did not take place can affect the case, if your case is correct.

The Solicitor-General: Very well, my lord.

Cross-examination resumed.

Do you recollect a man named Sweetman at Stonyhurst?—No.

Do you recollect anything being done to Sweetman's room or to any man's room about a tallow candle?—I don't.

Just recollect if you did anything about a tallow candle to Sweetman or any other man.—No.

Do you recollect any paper being stuck over his door with an inscription about a tallow candle?—No; I have no recollection.

Do you remember a man named Bellew there?—There was a gentleman of that name there.

Was be a student or a philosopher?—He was a philosopher.

That you are certain of?—Yes; I am pretty nigh certain of it.

Did you do anything to him in the way of practical joking?—Yes.

Did you do anything to him or his room?—I don't remember.

Do you recollect a man named Humphrys?—You asked me that question before. The name is familiar to me.

Was it at Stonyhurst the name was familiar to you?—Afterwards. I think.

Don't you recollect a man there named Humphrys, but whose real name was Arundel?—No.

A servant. Would that remind you of him?—No.

Do you recollect doing anything with cats at Stonyhurst?—Do you mean dissecting?

Did you dissect them?—Yes, and rats too. (Laughter.)

Where did you get cats and rats for dissecting?—We used to get people to bring them.

Did they bring them alive, or dead?—Alive and dead too.

What did you do when you got them alive?—Chase them till we killed them.

What did you do with the skins?—Cure them.

And what then?—Make different things of them.

What things?—Tobacco pouches and mats.

Do you remember any one of your friends dying at Stonyhurst?—Two of the fathers died.

I am not speaking of the fathers. Do you remember any of your friends of your own age dying?—I have some remembrance of somebody dying.

I want to know if you can tell me who it was, if anybody did die?—No. I can't. I know one of the fathers died.

Did any of the pupils die?—I think one of them died in 1847.

Can't you tell me his name—was not he a friend of yours?—A college acquaintance.

Can't you tell me whether he was a friend, and what his name was?—No.

Was he a student or a philosopher?—A philosopher.

You are certain of that?—Pretty nigh certain.

Had you any disease while you were there?—I decline to answer that question.

I am afraid I must ask you.What time are you speaking of 1?

I mean had you any serious illness at Stonyhurst which kept you in bed?—Yes; I was in bed two or three days.

What with?—I decline to answer.

What was the matter with you?—No answer.

Question repeated.No answer.

You decline to answer?—I do. I wasn't well in 1849.

You left Stonyhurst in 1848, you know. Were you ill then?—Yes.

While you were at Stonyhurst or before that had you travelled about various parts of England? Had you in the early part of your life been in Ireland?—No.

You are sure about that?—Pretty certain.

Are you quite certain?—I have no remembrance.

Had you never been in the Isle of Man—I mean before you left Stonyhurst think not.

Had you ever been to the Channel Islands?—You mean Guernsey and Jersey.

Yes.No, I had not.

Then in your journey with Sir James Tichborne, or anybody else, you had never been to the Isle of Man or the Channel Islands?—I have certainly not been to the Channel Islands.

If anyone has said that they met you in Jersey, would it be untrue!—To the best of my belief it would be.

Are you certain about it?—I have no remembrance.

Just attend to me. Did you write this letter to Lady Tichborne?—

Dear Mama,You have delayed writing to us so long that I am anxious to know what you were doing. I am very grieved to find that you are suffering, and I wish I had been near you. but in three weeks woeshall boeon our return to Paris, and then I will see you and embrace you. We have been to Jersey by steamboat, and stayed three days in the island. I and belle tdêe and Papa are well, and we embrace you a thousand and a thousand times.

ROGER.

The following is a copy of the letter as originally written:—

Chbère Mama,Vouasavec taun tard£é&ànous décrireet ce que vous etiez devoeue. Je suis biern affigés d'apprendre que vous étés souffrante et je voudrais, être pres de vous, mais dans trois semaines nous serons sur notro retour veres Paris et J'auroi le plaisir de vous revoir et de vourr embrasser. Nous avons été à Jersey par le bateau à vapeur, nous avons rester 3 Jours à visiter l'oule. Nous avons partons bien moi et belle tête et Papa, et nous embrasons millo et mille fais.

ROGER.

Look at that (handing the letter to Claimant). Is it your handwriting?—Yes.

Then it appears you were three days in Jersey, and you have forgotten it?— It appears by that letter that I have been.

Who is belle tête?—Let me look at the letter. (Letter handed to witness.)

'Tis your own letter, you know. Who is belle tête?

A Juror: What is it written in?

The Solicitor-General: In French. (To Claimant.) Can you read it?

Claimant: That is not a person's name at all.

The Solicitor-General: Why, in thia letter there are the words, " belle tete et papa." Do you mean to say that is not a person's name?—It might be a person travelling with us.

The Chief-Justice: I think you said it is not the name of a person at all.

Ths Solicitor-General: You told my learned friend that you learnt to skin birds at Stonyhurst?—Yes.

Where did you skin and cure them?—In my own room.

Where did you get them?—We got people to bring them.

What birds were they? Sparrows and larks?—Yes, and starlings.

Could you tell me the name of any one person who brought you the birds?—The person who supplied the college with necessaries.

Did you have a collection of stuffed birds?—No.

What did you do with the birds you did skin and cure?—I really can't say.

Did you stuff and set up any?—Yes, a few, I believe.

Will you undertake to say that you did that at Stonyhurst?—I will.

In your room or in the cottage?—Not in the cottage, I believe.

Who taught you?—I don't remember.

Can't you remember who helped you at Stonyhurst to skin and stuff the birds?—I don't think I was helped by any one.

Did you do it all yourself?—No.

I really can't understand you. Did anybody help you or teach you to skin and stuff birds?—Not at Stonyhurst, I think.

But in your direct examination you said you began skinning and stuffing birds at Stonyhurst. Is that correct.—No, I learnt it first in France.

Where in France? In Paris?—In a birdstuffer's in Paris.

Whereabouts?—I can't tell you.

Surely you can tell me where the birdstuffer lived who taught you to stuff birds?—I don't remember.

You can't tell in what part of Paris No.

How came you to leave Stonykurst?—I decline to answer that question.

But I must ask you?—I won't answer.

The Chief-Justice: What grounds have you for objecting.

Claimant: very strong grounds.

The Chief-Justice: What are they?

Claimant: I didn't wish to stay any longer. (To the Solicitor-General) I have another reason, and you know it.

You impute an amount of knowledge to me that I don't possess. You decline to tell me?—No answer.

You have been at Paris and at Stonyhurst, and when you left Stonyhurst you were nearly twenty years of age?—I was not far off.

Do you recollect coming home from Australia on board the Rakao?—Yes.

You came from Australia to New York and from New York to England?—Yes.

Did you come from New York with a Mr. Alfred Jones?—I did.

Did you give him an account of that part of your life with which we have been dealing to day?—Certainly not.

Did you say anything to him?—Yes. He asked me to write him down something that he might write a book from; and I may as well add that the papers I gave him were stolen on their transmission by post to me, and that you have them now.

We shall see what Mr. Alfred Jones says about that himself. Did you tell him that " when you were about five years of age you were living in Paris and sleeping with the nurse, and that a house on fire on the opposite side of the street woke you"?—Certainly not.

Anything like it?—No.

" That the nurse screamed out that the house was on fire, and that they would all he burnt, and that she ran down stairs and left you." Did you tell him that?—I don't think so.

Did you Bay anything like it?—Not that I remember.

Will you swear you didn't say something to that effect?—I certainly never told him anything of the kind.

Will you swear you did not?—I will.

" That the fright excited you, and brought on St. Vitus's dance?"—Certainly not; nothing like it.

"That a Mr. Wm. Ferguson, a surgeon residing in Finsbury-square, was in Paris at the time, that he was called in, and that you were sent over to London to live with Mr. Ferguson, in Finsbury-square for three years?—Certainly not.

Question repeated.I will swear I never said anything of the kind.

Then it is a pure invention?—I never heard of it before.

" That you returned to Pane not cured, and that many French physicians were called in, but did you no good; that you were then sent to Stonyhurst, where you remained for some years, and afterwards returned to Paris?"—I may have mentioned Stonyhurst.

That's likely; but did you mention the rest?—No.

Or anything of the kind?—No; I will swear I did not.

"That you were found in some act of familiarity with one of your father's maids; that your father found you and paid for a commission in the 6th Dragoons for you?— Certainly not; I never told him anything of the kind.

"That you went down to a Mr. Robertson, in Hertfordshire, to shoot and ride with him." Is this a delusion?—It certainly never came from me.

You never said it or wrote it?—Not that part.

"That Mr. Robertson had a daughter, named Mary, with whom you fell in love?"—I didn't know any such person.

I didn't say you did—that is not the point. Did you tell Mr. Alfred Jones that you did?—I never did.

That you swear?—That I swear.

"That one day you were returning home with Mr. Robertson, and going into the parlour to take some beer, when, to your surprise, you found your papa, who had got admission, saying he was a friend of yours, and that Mary was sitting with him, and told him all about your love affair?" Anything like that?—Not a word.

No approach to it at all?—No.

Neither by word of mouth or writing?—I think not.

Think not! You must know?—I have no recollection of anything of the Kind.

Did one single syllable of this happen?—Certainly not.

If that had happened, have you the slightest doubt you didn't tell Mr. Jones about it?—No.

Either by word of mouth or writing?—I think what I wrote about was a different subject altogether. I didn't write words to that effect.

"That papa 'collared' you, and insisted on your leaving the house immediately?"—I will swear I didn't say that or write it.

" That you and your father did so, and soon met a carriage which took you to an hotel at Ellestree called the Billows?—Did you say that or write that?—No.

Or anything like it?—No.

" That your father than ordered dinner and a double-bedded room, and said nothing to you till eight o'clock, when you went to bed." Did you say that or anything like it?—No.

" That your father locked the door, and that in the morning you went to London and went to London Bridge and took the boat which took you down to the Isle of Wight." Did you write or say anything of that sort?—No.

Nothing like it?—Not one word alluded to in it.

" That there, on hearing a bell, you looked out of the window, and saw your brother, and your mother, and an old yachtsman? "—Nothing of the kind.

Nor said nor wrote one word approaching to it?—No.

That you swear?—Yes.

"That your mother kissed you and wept, and upbraided you gently for your behaviour." Did you write or say anything like that?—No.

" That yon said, ' Mamma, what is done cannot be undone '?" —I said nothing of the kind.

" That she went to your papa and said she would make you friends, and that your papa came in and said he didn't care for anything you had done except throwing yourself away upon that worthless girl" (meaning poor Miss Robertson,?—Nothing of the kind.

Nothing of this sort at all?—Nothing like it that I can remember.

Surely you can remember something of what took place when you were coining from New York to England in 1866?—I wrote something, but nothing in the least like that.

" That you then went out—papa, and mama, and your brother, and yourself—and got on board the yacht which took you to Southampton." Did you say that or write it?—No.

"And from Southampton you went by a carriage to where your uncle was living. Is that true?—No.

" That your uncle seemed to think little of your conduct, and so liked you that he. said you should stop with him?"—No, not that I know of.

Not that you know of! Surely you couldn't have said or written this without knowing it?—I said no, I didn't.

" And that then your father, mamma, and Alfred went home." Is the whole of that an absolute invention?—I never said anything of that.

I mean that to impute to you that you did say so was an absolute invention? Certainly.

You say you did write something for him?—Yes.

And he sent it back to you?—Yes, but it fell into the hands of your detectives.

My detectives?—I beg your pardon, Sir John; I mean the detectives employed against me.

What did you write?

Serjeant Ballantine: I object to that question.

The Solicitor-General: You never saw the paper since?

The Claimant: No, it fell into your hands.

Fell into my hands?—Yes. What other conclusion can I come to, when the boy send with my letters is stopped, and the addresses looked at, and when my servants are offered half-a-crown for a bit of blotting paper.

I may ask you if what you wrote was true?—It was not true, and not intended to be true.

Did you not profess to give Mr. Jones and the captain of the ship a true account of your life?—Certainly not.

Did you ever tell anything to the captain—anything about it?—No.

Did you profess to give Mr. Jones an account of part of your life?—Nothing of the sort; my life was alluded to in it.

Did you not profess to give in the document a true account of your life so far as it went?—Certainly not.

Have you ever had St. Vitus's dance in your life?—No.

Have you heard so?—I have often heard people say so.

Who?—Hundreds of people—scores at least.

Tell me any one living person who ever told you you had St. Vitus's dance?—I dare say I could if I thought of it.

I wish you would.—I could to-morrow morning, perhaps.

To-morrow morning we will have other matters to deal with. Can't you give me the name of any person who questioned you about St. Vitus's dance, or anything like it?—I think there is one—a man in Northampton.

Is he a friend of yours?—I met him several times.

Is he a gentleman, or a trader, or a labourer?—He is a gentleman, I think—he has no profession.

Then I suppose that is why he is a gentleman. The legal definition of a gentleman is one having no ostensible means of living. (Laughter.) How came he to speak to you about St. Vitus's dance?—He asked me why I twiched my eyes, and inquired if I had St. Vitus's dance.

Do you remember having received a letter from Pedro Castro about a disease called San Vito?—No.

Do you know what San Vito is?—I think it implies madness.

When you were at Stonykurst did you go to Upton on vacation?—Yes, but not to stay there.

Did you go to Tichborne and Bath?—Yes.

Was it while you were at Stonyhurst that you went to visit your uncle, Mr. Robert Tichborne, at Bath?—I am not sure.

Shortly after?—Yes, I think so.

In your examination in chief you said your uncle's house at Bath was rather small?—Well, it was not so very small.

Was it not a big handsome house?—It was handsome, but not very large.

Was'nt there plenty of room there?—Yes; I have no doubt there was, but I didn't find it convenient to stay there.

I think you said Cock Robin was a horse your uncle was very fond of?—Yes, I believe he was.

Did he drive it? I don't know but that he did.

Is it not a fact that Cock Robin was dead years before you went to Bath?—Yes; but you are giving me a wrong meaning: I did'nt say the time I was in Bath.

Will you swear you ever saw any one drive Cock Robin?—No.

Will you swear you saw him at all?—No, I will not.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

TWENTY-FOURTH DAY.—THURSDAY, JUNE 15.

TWENTY-THIRD DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Claimant's Cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued: I must ask you a question before we proceed in regular order. Do you see these gentlemen in court—the Père Le Fevre, M. Gaussin, the Abbé Sallice, M. Duranza, and M. Chatillon?—Yes.

Now, upon your solemn oath, in the presence of those gentlemen, do you assert yourself to be Sir Roger Charles Tichborne?—Upon my solemn oath, I do.

Now about the list of the Jesuit fathers which Mr. Holmes says he handed to you—do you produce it?—No, I have not had it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I concede everything necessary to give an answer to this question.

The Solicitor-General: Will you swear you have never had it?—I have no recollection of having received it.

A list procured by your attorney and sent to the dowager's attorney for correction, and then sent back to you. Do you me in to tell me you never received it?—Yes; I never received it.

But there is an entry in Mr. Holmes's book of his having sent it to you. Do you mean to say you do not know what has become of it?—Yes, I will swear I have no recollection of having received it.

Upon your oath, what has beome of that document?—I don't know. I will swear that I have no recollection of having received it.

Not on the 21st July?—No. I have no remembrance of having received it at all.

You have had Mr. Holmes' bill, you know. Is there not a charge in that for delivering to you this very list?—Do you suppose I have read everything in this bill? I mean to swear that I don't know what has become of that document.

Mr. Holmes says such a thing did happen. Are you still of opinion that it is a scandal upon him and imposition upon Mr. Morris, as you previously stated?—No; I should say not.

Can you play chess?—Yes, a little. I used to be able to play well, but I have not played for years. I used to play before I left England.

What is a rook in chess?—A rook? I don't know.

How do you move a bishop?—I am not going to tell you; it is over twenty years since I saw chess.

Have you forgotten the moves?—I have never given a thought about them.

Have you forgotten the pieces?—Really I don't remember.

What piece stands at the corner of the board?—I don't remember.

What piece stands next to the one at the corner?—I have given you my answer.

Cannot you recollect?—No.

What piece moves in the greatest number of directions in chess?—I have given you my answer.

What is the name of the pieces in the row in front?—I have forgotten just at this moment. I can't get the name on my lips. Well, pawns.

Now we have got it at last, can you tell me the name of any of the others?—I am not going to try.

What is a gambit in chess?—I don't know.

What was your favourite gambit? Had you any particular gambit that you liked better than another?—I have no recollection.

Do you know how to play backgammon?—Yes.

How?—With dice and cards.

You have not forgotten that?—No.

Look at this piece of paper. Do you see your name upon it: " R. Tichborne, Esq., the Carabineers?"—Yes.

What book does that come out of?—Some army book, I should say.

Yes, I know that; but what army book? You were three years in the Carabineers, you know. What army book does that come out of, can you tell me?—No.

Is it not a piece of the " Queen's Regulations."—Very probably it is.

Are not the " Queen's Regulations " a part of the book that any one who has been an officer would recognise immediately?—No answer.

Is not every officer obliged to show that he has a copy of it? Is it not, in fact, to a young officer what a Bible ought to be to a child?—I don't think anything of it.

What are the " Queen's Regulations?"—The regulations in the army by which an officer should know other regiments by. There are other regulations besides.

Is it a sort of Army List?—Oh! certainly not.

You were three years in the army?—Yes.

Then how many squadrons were there in your regiment?—Let me see.

Oh! surely, surely.—Give me time to think.

How many squadrons?—There were seven different troops.

But how many squadrons is my question?—Are a troop and a squadron the same?—Yes, I think they are.

The Chief-Justice: You think so?—Yes.

What is a serafile?—I don't recollect.

Were you ever a serafile?—Not that I am aware of.

What is the number of men in a troop?—There are more in some troops than in others.

But in the Carabineers?—From 100 to 150.

What was the number of the Carabineers?—They were between 900 and 1000 strong.

What is the difference between order and close order?—What do you mean?

What do I mean? I am the Solicitor-General, and an unhappy lawyer; but you were a soldier, you know. I am not a Major-General.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: No, but Solicitor-General.

The Claimant: Do you mean order in marching?

The Solicitor-General: What do you mean by order? What is the difference between order and close order?—I don't recollect.

The Jury: It ought to be between close order and open order, I think?

The Solicitor-General: Which order do they generally keep on the line of march?—Open order.

Is open order a cavalry or an infantry expression?—Really I don't recollect which it is.

The Chief-Justice: Were you ever in an infantry regiment?— No, my lord, but wo had to learn infantry drill.

In what order did the regiment stand on parade?—Sometimes one, and sometimes the other. You must remember that I have been away for a certain number of years, and have never given it a thought.

In which order would they stand on parade?—Close order.

Not in your recollection?—Well, my recollection is not very good on the subject.

Where did the sergeant stand on parade?—Where did he stand?

Yes?—Why at the head of his troop, of course.

Is that your answer?—Yes; at the back of his lieutenant, certainly.

How were the men drawn up in troop? By what considerations was it settled where A, B, C, and so on should stand?—I don't understand what you mean.

The Chief-Justice: Was there any mode in which they should stand? No, I think not.

The Solicitor-General: It was an accident, then, in the way they were drawn up?—Yes, I should say so.

Suppose that twenty-four men were drawn up?—It don't commence with letters, but with numbers.

Then where should twelve and thirteen stand?—In rotation.

But what should settle it?—I don't know. They were all numbered before I went there.

In what position was it determined the men in a particular troop should be drawn up?—Do you mean in double file?

In mounted rank will there be two lines, or more?—Two lines.

By what considerations would it be determined that Nos. 12 and 13 should stand?—I don't recollect.

What is the first thing done on parade?—The troops are inspected.

At what distance do they stand apart—cavalry, you know?—Not much distance.

Do you remember whether there was any fixed distance in the Carabineers?— I don't recollect. I should remember if I saw it.

Don't you remember the distance?—Was it half a foot clear on each side of each horse and man?—Yes.

Is that open or close order?—Close. I don't think it is fair for you to put me through my examination in this way.

The Chief-Justice: It is perfectly fair.

The Claimant:—I don't think so, my lord. He is being prompted by military officers near him, while it is years since I had anything to do with it.

The Solicitor-General: But these are the " beggarly elements," you know. What was the distance in open order?—About two feet.

Do you mean from shoulder to shoulder, or from knee to knee?—From knee to knee.

The Solicitor-General: After the inspection on parade, what was the first thing done in the regiment?—We were generally ordered to march past.

I'm not speaking of a review, but of the ordinary parade day by day. Did they march past?—Yes, that was part of the inspection.

I am speaking of the order when the colonel paraded the inspection.—It was marching past the colonel.

Did you ever see a squadron told off?—Yes.

Is that done every day on parade?—I don't recollect whether it is or not.

How do you tell off a squadron?—My recollection won't carry me back to that.

You won't swear it was done every day when you were in the Carabineers?—No, it was not done every day.

On parade?—Afterwards.

How do you " tell off" a squadron?—The best way is to say I don't recollect. I have no distinct recollection.

What happens to a squadron when you tell it off? What is the first thing you do?—You say you do. I say they do.

What is the first thing done after telling off a squadron? —I say I don't recollect.

What is telling off a squadron?—Telling off a certain amount of men.

What for?—That would depend upon what you wanted them for.

Then " telling off" means telling off men for a certain purpose? Is your notion, that it means telling them off to send them somewhere?—I have given you my answer. I say that I don't recollect.

The Chief-Justice: Then the purpose depends upon what they are wanted for?

Claimant: Yes.

The Solicitor-General: Did you ever hear the word of command given, " From right—number off? "—I don't think I have.

Is that the first word of command given on parade when a squadron is told off? I don't recollect it.

Do yon know what is done when such a command is given?—I am not aware whether that order is given.

What is " proving" in a cavalry regiment on parade?—I don't know. That is a word invented by yourself.

That is your notion?—very likely it is.

Invented by me?—Yes.

You have not the least recollection as to what it means?—No.

The Chief-Justice: Now, why do you use the word " invented?"

Claimant: Because I do not remember it.

The Solicitor-General: You have not the least recollection what " proving " is?—No; I don't recollect.

Is it not done at every drill of a cavalry regiment?—I don't remember.

Do you know Captain Williamson, the brother of Sir Hedwortk Williamson?— Yes, I think I do.

Did you meet him in society?—If he is the person I mean, I met him the other day.

Did you have some conversation about military matters with him?—Really I don't recollect. I think not.

Will you swear you did not?—It is very hard to swear that.

Cannot you tell whether you talked to him about military matters?—Really, I can't. I was not aware you intended to have our conversation here, or I would have made a note of it.

Was his regiment ever quartered in Ireland next to the Carabineers? Had you any conversation on the subject with him?—I believe I had.

Now you remember—what was his regiment?—It was one of the batteries of artillery.

Did he not tell you it was the 60th Rifles? Is that your notion of an artillery regiment?—I don't know what yon mean by that. Do you want to insult me?

I ask you, did you find out from him that his regiment was the 60th Rifles?— Certainly not—I have no recollection of it.

Did you speak to him about the horses of the 60th Rifles?—That I certainly did not.

That you swear?—He was not in the 60th Rifles at all.

Did you have a conversation with any one recently about the 60th Rifles—I suggest to you it was Captain Williamson?—I think not.

Surely you can tell me if you had a conversation with a young officer of the 60th Rifles lately?—I don't think I have.

Will you swear you have not? I should like you to explain more about it.— Well, Captain Williamson called on me, and I had a conversation with him. The person I am speaking of belonged to the Artillery. He might now belong to the Rifles.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We ought to have the officer here if there is any doubt as to the identity.

The Solicitor-General: Captain Williamson is not here, to-day, but at Colchester otherwise I would call him. Did you not meet him at Colonel Lushington's house at Tichborne?—No; but I know who you are speaking about. I was not aware that he belonged to the 60th Rifles, although he might for aught I know.

Had you any conversation with him about your quarters in Ireland?—I don't recollect. Do you expect me to remember everything that happened twenty years ago?

Can you answer my question?—I saw him at Tichborne House, but I do not remember the conversation.

Do you recollect seeing Mr. Athol Liddell, the son of Lord Ravensworth, at Tichborne at the same time?—I don't remember. I recollect meeting some gentleman there on one occasion.

Will you swear you did not talk about the horses of the 60th Rifles?—I don't know. It would oblige you, no doubt, if I did. I don't remember one word of the conversation.

Did Capt. Williamson say " Horses? We are an infantry regiment;" and did you not reply, " Oh, I thought you were a horse troop?"—I have no recollection of speaking to him about the regiment at all.

Will you swear that those words were not uttered by you in the presence of Mr. Athol Liddell? Now, answer that question.—How is it possible for me to answer.

I must repeat the question.—I have no recollection of what did pass.

Will you swear it did not?—I believe the whole of it to be false.

Will you swear it is.—You see, I can't; I have no recollection of it.

Will you swear it is not true? - Yes; such a thing could not be true.

Why?—Because I don't remember what conversation passed; but I am perfectly certain that I never said that.

Will you swear you did not speak of the 60th Rifles to Captain Williamson, in Mr. Liddell's presence, as a horse regiment?—Yes, that I will swear.

In your time—when you were in the Carabineers—how many divisions were there in the sword exercise?—I don't recollect.

What's an assault?—What! an assault?

Yes.—Where they meet cross swords.

How many movements of the arm does the first division of the sword exercise consist of?—Really I cannot tell.

Have you forgotten?—Yes.

You said to my learned friend that you gave the word of command when the troops were hemmed in against the barrack wall, and when Capt. Polhill could not draw them out. What was the word of command you then gave?—Wheel three to the left.

Will you swear that?—Yes, that I swear.

Does that make them go on or go back?—Really—

You cannot tell?—I don't understand what you mean.

Did they go forwards or backwards?—I don't know what you mean.

What is the proper word in the cavalry for going back?—Do you mean to retreat?

No, not that, but the proper word for retiring a troop back?—I don't understand. If you wanted to take a troop back you would wheel the men and take them back. You could not get the horses to go backwards; you must turn them round. (Laughter.)

General Napier, you say, was the general commanding?—Yes, I believe he was.

Did he ever command that part of Ireland?—I have never said that he did. There was a General Napier, I remember—a one-armed man.

I have here Mr. Norris's bill, delivered to Lady Tichborne. I want you to explain certain matters. Who is Mr. Tucker?—Why, Mr. Tucker, I should say.

The Chief-Justice: Have you finished your cross-examination about the army?

The Solicitor-General: I have a lot more questions, but I think it is useless to proceed.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Now, don't say that; let us have them.

The Solicitor-General: Who is Mr. Tucker?

The Claimant: I have not the slightest idea. He was a person introduced to me by my mother

You say a very great deal of him?—Not a very great deal.

Has he done business for you?—No.

Has he not procured money for you?—No, not a shilling to my knowledge.

That you swear?—Yes. He tried to get my life insured for me, but did not succeed.

Now, I will read to you a letter in which his name appears:—

Essex Lodge, May 1, 1867.

My dear Mama,—I receved your note from Joseph, and am so glad to hear you are quito well. We have seen the young woman you sent, and I think she will suit very well; so I think you had better engage her. Mama, dear, I should liko to get somebody at once, before Mary is confined. My dear Mama, I am glad to tell you Dr. Southerland says I am a great deal better; so you see. Mama dear, I shall soon be well.

I have sent you a letter I received from Mr. Holmes, and likewise the agreement for the House, for you to sign it. Better for to take the house in your name, for then they cannot molest me. You must understand, Mama, that in Mr. Bulpett's proposal you are not required to pay one shilling, as the first year's entress and ce will be paid out of the five thousand. But I should advise you, Mama dear, to show it to Mr. Norris. The entress will only be five per cent. And I shall place one thousand in your Bank to your credit, which will secure you for four years. I wish you would see Mr. Norris on this subject, or Mr. Tucker.

The weather looks as if it was going to be fine, tell Juggins he has not paid Eliot the 15. 3d, you gave him to pay last week. Mary and little Agnes joins me in love to you, Mama, and I remain your affectionate son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Was that letter ever read before?—No, I should say not.

The Solicitor-General next read the following letter:—

May 27, '67.

My Dr. Mamma,—I have just received your kind letter, with Mr. Tucker's enolosed. I think, my dear Mama, it will be best to give Mr. Tucker the 50 per cent, on condition that he pays the money the day after the Bills are filed. I am certain we shall not get it cheaper; as for Mr. Yates, I do not want anything to do with him; it no use playing with Mr. Tucker; the best way will be to tell him at once we will give the 50 per cent. I would very much like to see him if I do not succeed with Mr. Tucker. I propose to come to London on Wednesday, and go ware I know I can get it. But still I would have to give more than 50 per cent. I must get it somewhere, for I have not a pound, and Hammon and Parrott came this morning, and asked me for a cheque, and, of course, I could not give him one, which makes me look very little and feel very miserable; sometimes I almost wish I was out of the world. Do not lose any opportunity with Mr. Tucker, as I shall only have to give more. I am sorry that I should cause you so much anxiety about my affairs. Had I have known it before I left Australia, I would have never wrote or come home to have cause you so much trouble, and to have been such a drag on your purse; however, I hope to be able to repay you all back again, and sea you happy and comfortable at Upton. I will send you a couple of Photographs of Upton—the North and South Front. My dear, you never say how you are when you write, therefore I never know only by asking the servants. Little Agnes and the boy are quite well, and Mary joins me in kind love to you, And I remain. my dear Mama, your affectionate Son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Do not worrot yourself, my dear Mama. We shall be all happy yet.

[Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We may be happy yet. (Laughter.)]

I registered the boy this morning under the name of Roger Joseph Doughty, according, I think, as you desired it.

The Claimant: I make my " o's" the same as the " a's." They are not all spelt wrong. I do so in all my writing.

The Chief-Justice: There seeems to be a material difference between the " o's" and " a's" in one of your letters.

The Claimant: I think you will find them the same, my lord, without I altered them afterwards.

The Chief-Justice: Perhaps you can tell me what that word is in the ninth line?— I think it is only meant for double " s." It is in the word " e-n-t-r-e-s-s."

The Solicitor-General next read the following letter:—

No. 2, Wellesley-villas, Wellesley-road, May 11, 1867.

My dear Mama—I did not write yesterday Because I was not very well, and could not spare Carter. I am sorry to say, Mamma, D. Mary is very unwell to-day, and cannot leave her Bed. Little Agnes was very unwell yesterday. But she appears a good deal better to-day. I saw Mr. Holmes last night. He says he will be ready to file the bills on Tuesday. But he wants five hundred pounds before he can file them. I have just received a bill from Hammond and Parrott, where we rent the linen and plate from. I have enclosed it for you to look at. It very heavy. I have got about thirty pounds. Mama dear, but that you see, Mama dear, is not sufficient. It allmost drives me mad to think that I cannot pay my way without taking your money. I paid a man named Baine yesterday £7. 19s. 8d., which 1 did not know was owing. I will enclose it that you may see what it was for. I think Mr. Blackman will have the horses sold in a day or two. If he does, of course I can pay these bills at once. I hope, Mama dear, you will let me know how you are, and if you have hear from Mr. Tucker. It's a week since you came to see me, and it appears so long. But I know it makes you ill to come, so I do not like to ask you to come oftener.

The Claimant: It is scandalous that any of these letters should be read. They have nothing to do with the case.

The Chief-Justice: They are letters which ought properly to be read in the course of the inquiry, and there can be objection to them.

The Solicitor-General continued reading:—

Next Tuesday is Mary birthday, and Mr. Long's Father is coming to dine with us, so do try and come, Mama dear. You know, Mama dear, it is of great importance that these gentlemen come to see me, because it gets all over Hampshire. Hoping to receive a few lines from you, I remain your affectionate son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE

Mary and Agnes send their kind love to you, Mama dear.

No. 2, Wellesley-villas, Wellesley-road, May 19, '67.

My dear Mamma,—I have great pleasure in telling you that I have seen Mr. Biddup. He called with Mr. Tucker and Norris yesterday, and remained for about two hours. The meeting was very pleasant. Mr. Norris said he thought you was not looking very well when he last saw you. I hope, Mama dear, you will let me know how you are. Little Agnes is a great deal better, and will soon be able to come to you. I have caught a nasty cold, which has taken away my voice, so I have to remain in bed all day to-day. Mary is quite well to-day, except a toothache. If you are quite well you must write and tell me all the news, But if you are not, do not trouble to write a long letter, for it will fatigue you.

Mary and Agnes joins me, Mamma dear, in kind love to you, and I remain, your affectionate son.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

In each of these four letters you speak of Mr. Tucker, and you say the meeting was very pleasant?—I don't see that.

What was Mr. Tucker about?—What was he about?

Yes.—I don't Know what you mean.

There is a letter here about your giving him 50 per cent.—It does not mean Mr. Tucker, hut some friend of his. The money was to come through him from a friend.

Who is Mr. Tucker?—All I can say about it is, that he is Mr. Tucker. He tried to get my life insured. I don't know that he ever got mo a shilling.

Did he get money on your security?—Certainly not.

Don't you know what transactions he had with Lady Tichborne?—I do not. She knew him for many years.

Is he a money-lender?— No, I should say not.

Does he get his livelihood by raising money for other people?—I should say not. All I know is that he is a person who was introduced to me.

Did he raise £5,000 for you on mortgage? Did he try to do that?—I don't know what he tried to do.

I want to know what he did.—My opinion is that you know more about him than I do, and I have thought so for a long time. (Laughter.)

You say he tried to insure your life, and failed. Is that all you know about him?— Well, he has dined with me, as other gentlemen have. He was introduced to me by my mother, and I never made inquiries as to what he was. He was trying to get my life insured and to raise money for me; and that I think I have stated before.

Did you remain on friendly terms with him for some time?—Yes; for two or three months.

Were he and Nome acting together for you, or how? You say that Norris was in communication with him. In a letter of the 9th June there is this passage: " Don't go to Mr. Norris about the money any more, as I have seen a letter from MrTucker which convinces me that he is"—the words are there struck out—" a bore, and is only deluding us." Does that mean Tucker or Norris?—Not Mr. Norris, certainly; it alludes to Mr. Tucker.

Is that all you know about him?—It is very hard to say.

There is a perpetual allusion to him in your letters?—Just so.

But what I want to find is this—what he was and what his connection was with you?—It's very difficult to say. He was introduced to me by my mother, and he promised to get my life insured and to procure a sum of money for my use. He did not, however, get me one shilling, and I believe he was no more nor less than a spy. He was no friend of mine, certainly.

When did you cease to have anything to do with him?—Really I don't remember when it was. I don't think I have seen him since March, 1868.

Now about Mr. Adams. Was Mr. Norris sent down in June, 1867, to have a long conference with Mr. Adams at Alresford?—I can't say.

Was Mr. Adams formerly in partnership with Mr. Hopkins?—I think not—he took Mr. Hopkins's business. I don't think he was a partner.

Did Mr. Norris attend from time to time upon various persons who made affidavits for you.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Were you present at these conferences.

The Solicitor-General: Have you paid for it?

The Claimant: For a man to remember all that has been paid in this case, he would require to have a head as big as this room. (Laughter.)

Did you know from Mr. Holmes that there was a long attendance by Mr. M'Evoy, M.P.—I am not aware.

Was he not a gentleman in the Carabineers with you?—For a short time.

Do you recollect whether there was a long attendance upon that gentleman?—No. I do not.

You have told us you have not been to Ireland since you came back to this country?—Yes.

You have not been in that country at all?—No.

Have you sent anyone over to Ireland on your behalf? Did Mr. Norris go over for you?—I don't think he did.

Do you know from Mr. Holmes that on the 27th November, 1867, there was a long conference between him and Mr. Norris, such as going into various points and report ing the result of inquiries by Mr. Norris?—I don't think he went over for me.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to the Solicitor-General reading from a document (Mr. Norris's bill), which was not put in evidence.

The Solicitor-General said he would have it put into his brief in the morning. It was only a simple —

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We are all simple, you know. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: Do you not remember a long conference between Mr. Holmes and Mr. Norris?—Now you have brought it to my recollection, I have some remembrance about Mr. Norris going to Ireland, but I don't think it was.on my account.

Was he not sent over for the purpose of making inquiries into this case?—I can certainly swear that I do not know positively that he was. He being my mother's attorney, it was natural that he would do all he could for me.

How long was he there?—I have not the slightest notion.

Do you mean to say that you do not know the result of the conference?—Probably Mr. Holmes told me, but I don't remember now.

Surely you can tell me what part he went to?—No, I can't. I had forgotten that he went to Ireland at all until you mentioned the subject.

Were there any other parties engaged in making inquires in Ireland?—I think not.

Was Mr. Kennedy, of Dublin, so engaged?—Not that I know of.

Do you kuow Mr. Kennedy?—I never employed such a gentleman as you mention, though Lady Tichborne might.

Did you know a Mr. Kennedy, jun., of Dublin, who was over here, I presume. Did be confer with Mr. Holmes, your attorney, as to the nature of the evidence it would be necessary to get up in Ireland?—I can't remember everything that Mr. Holmes has told me. I have no recollection of anything of the kind happening.

Nor about the middle of September, 1867?—No; I do not recollect.

Do you remember whether there was a Miss Weatley, with whom communications were opened in Ireland?—No, I do not; but the name seems to be familiar to me.

Do you know whether communications were carried on with her desiring her to make inquiries with respect to Sir Roger being quartered at Clonmel?—No answer.

Was there not along conversation with Miss Weatley at the Berners-street Hotel, in London, as to what inquiries should be made?—I have no remembrance of it.

Will you swear you did not learn from Mr. Holmes the result of such a conference?—He might have mentioned it to me.

Did he not tell you that she had got information as to the people with whom Sir Roger associated when quartered in Ireland?—I have no recollection. I am not aware that I ever tried to get any information from Ireland. Why, good gracious! Do you think, if I had, I should come into court and say that I don't know? I have not read a note about any information. I don't think I ever saw Miss Weatley in my life.

You may know a person you have never seen.—If that was the case, you would have great difficulty in knowing him a second time.

You will swear you never heard from Mr. Holmes that the names were obtained from her of two parties in Ireland with whom you associated when you were quartered in Ireland?—I have no recollection of anything of the kind.

Don't you know that Mr. Norris, the attorney, was acting for Lady Tichborne, and that she was most anxious to obtain all the details and particulars of Roger Tichborne's Irish life?—About my mother's anxiety for tho Irish information I have no knowledge.

You lived in the same house with her. Do you mean to say that, seeing her from day to day, you did not know she was anxious that Irish details should be found?— I don't think so.

Yon don't think so?—I don't remember. You seem to remember better than I can.

I won't argue that with you. You say you don't think you do. Will you swear that in this matter of your Irish life in the Carabineers you weren't constantly in communication with Lady Tichborne?—That is a very hard thing to swear to, because I have no recollection of what I have said.

What I want to know is, was Lady Tichborne anxious to obtain this information?— I don't know that she was more anxious about it than anybody else.

Will you swear you didn't hear from Mr. Holmes that after the return to Ireland of Miss Weatley, she was written to for further information as to who were Sir Roger's friends when in Tipperary with his regiment?—What do you want to do about that?

Answer the question.—I don't think I could give you an answer.

Did you learn from him that there were several letters written to Miss Weatley in October, in reply to letters from her, and making further inquiries?—You seem to have more information than I have myself. I have no recollection of it.

Had you heard from Mr. Holmes that in November, 1867, Mr. Kennedy had been communicated with in respect to evidence in Ireland?—I have no recollection of the name of Kennedy. He was not connected with my affairs.

Do you know that about the 4th or 5th of November, 1867, there was a long letter written to Miss Weatley, pointing out the evidence required from Ireland, and requesting her to write?—I think Mr. Holmes could answer that question better than me.

Question repeated.—It is not possible for me to say.

Did you hear of a Mr. Hutchins in connection with the Tichborne family?—No, I don't know him.

Later in that month do you recollect hearing that Miss Weatley had enclosed a letter from Captain Kellett, and that thereupon another letter was written to her?— I remember receiving a letter from Captain Kellett.

Through Miss Wheatley?—I don't know. I have an impression it didn't come directly.

Did you hear from Mr. Holmes that he had received a letter from Mr. Norri saying he had received a lotter from Miss Weatley enclosing a letter of Dick Kellett's to you? Can't you remember?—I told you just now I did remember receiving a letter.

Did you hear from Mr. Holmes that afterwards Mr. Kennedy, the Irish agent residing in Dublin, had explained to him fully the nature of the evidence from Tipperary and elsewhere?—The Irish agent? He was not my agent, because I never had one.

Question repeated.—Really, I can't say.

Do you recollect yourself receiving a letter from Mr. Norris with reference to Mr. M'Evoy, and, desiring a letter to be written to Mr. M'Evoy informing hirn that four more officers of the regiment haij identified you?—I don't clearly understand you.

Question repeated.—I can't answer.

Do you remember bearing there had been a long conference with Mr. Kennedy in reference to the evidence that might be obtained from Lord Howth?—I can't remember the name of Kennedy at all.

Were there further letters during October and November, 1867, received from Miss Weatley and Captain Kellett?—That I don't know.

Do you remember that Mr. Scully, formerly member for Cork county, was visited, and that there was information from him with regard to Eoger Tichborne?—I am not aware of it.

Holmes went and told you that Mr. Scully had been communicated with, and that information had been received from him.—I don't think I ever heard of Mr-. Scully. I may have seen his name in the paper as a member of Parliament.

You yourself, I think, wrote to Captain Kellett?—Yes.

Do you remember what you wrote about?—No.

Did you often write to him?—No.

Did you confer with him on the general outine of your case?—I don't think that is at all likely.

Had you seen him?—I saw him the other day.

But had you seen him in 1867?—No.

In 1866?—No.

Nor since your return?—No.

Did you write to him on the subject of the story you told him in your affidavit?—The story I told in my affidavit?

I beg your pardon; I did'nt intend to use the word offensively. I mean the narrative in your affidavit?—I haven't the slightest recollection.

I think you told the jury some time ago that you had never been able to find any of the crew af the Bella—the ship that went down?—I'm not aware I told the jury so.

Can you say it as a fact?—I cannot say whether any of them have been found up to the present.

Were any of them found in 1867?—I think not.

Can't you swear one way or the other?—No; very probably I said in a letter to Captain Kellett that some of the crew of the Bella had been found. If I did so I did it on the pure truthfulness of reports from Australia.

What reports had you received from Australia?—Reports from Sedgeneld and Alport, my agents.

I presume they sent a letter?—Yes.

Who has it?—Mr. Holmes.

Then Mr. Holmes will give it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Certainly not.

The Solicitor-General (to witness): Will you swear that you learned from Holmes on the l9th December, 1867, that he heard from Sedgefield and Alport that some of the crew of the Bella had been found?—You are trying to catch me as regards dates.

I have the date here.—If you have, why do you ask me for it?

Question repeated.—I will swear I heard that some of the crew of the Bella had been found. I don't know when Mr. Holmes appointed Sedgefield and Alport as his agents.

Will you swear that on the 19th December, 1867, you knew from your Australian agents that any of the crew of the Bella had been saved?—What are you sticking about the 19th of December for?

Question repeated.—I'm not going to swear as regards that date.

Did you hear from any one as regards the date?—No.

Can you tell me what the purport of the information was? Had they seen the crew, or given their names?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: A grave point arises on that question, namely, as to whether the communications between Mr. Holmes and his clients during the progress of the case are evidence.

The Chief-Justice: Then do I understand you to raise it, Brother Ballantine.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Certainly not, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Then we can discuss it by and by.

The Court then adjourned for an hour, and on the re-assembling of the Court at two o'clock the cross-examination was proceeded with.

The Solicitor-General: Had you made inquiries at this time about the crew of the Bella?—At what time?

In December, 1867.—I really can't say whether I did or not.

Have you made inquiries, or caused inquiries to be made?—There is no doubt my agents have made inquiries.

Had you at that time, otherwise than from your own attorney, heard of the survivors of the Bella?—I don't remember; the probability would be no.

Will you swear you had not?—No.

Up to that time what number of men did you understand to be saved, or did you know any were saved?—You are always referring to "that time." What time do you refer to?

Any time in 1867. Did you hear that any of the crew were saved?—There were reports that three or four of the crew had been found.

Did you hear their names?—I believe I did at the time.

Did you make a note of them?—I hardly ever made a note in my life.

These people, you know, were days and nights with you tossed about in a little boat on the ocean, and afterwards went to Australia with you. Can't you remember any one name?—No, I don't, nor a portion of a name.

Can't you give me one single fragment of a name?—I dare say I could if I collected my thoughts.

Well, just collect your thoughts, and tell me?—I can't remember just now, but I will give you the whole of tho names to-morrow.

How will you get the names to-morrow?—Because I will cause inquiry to be made.

By whom?—By my solicitors.

Do you think they know?—I have no doubt they do.

How long do you think they have known the names of the survivors?—The survivors? I thought you meant the crew.

But the crew, or most of them, are at the bottom of the Atlantic. I want the names of the survivors. Can you let me have them to-morrow!—I will try my best.

Give me one or two now, and you can give me the rest to-morrow?—At times I can think of them easy enough.

Has your solicitor got the names of the crew of the Bella?—I don't know that my present solicitor has them.

Then Mr. Holmes has them?—I think so.

Can you let us have them?

Mr. Giffard: I am the claimant's counsel, and anything that is asked for must be through me.

The Solicitor-General (to witness): Do you remember the name of any of the survivors?—Yes; Evans, I think, was one.

Do you recollect Pebbles, or Peebles, the second mate of the Eella?—Yes; he was the carpenter.

And one of the survivors?—Yes.

Do you recolloet Shears?—Yes.

Was he one of the men who were saved?—Yes.

Can you give me any more of the names of the men who were saved?—No.

Did you give a list of them to anybody at Alresford—Mr. Hopkins, or any of your advisers?—Very likely I did.

Do you recollect Williams? You said you recollected him?—I said either Williams or William.

Dobbin?—No answer.

Don't you recollect having given Dobbin's name to Mr. Hopkins in February, 1867?—No.

Shears, Williams, Dobbin, Peebles, and "Yankee" (a nickname for an American) Was he one of them?—Yes.

And there was a native of Valparaiso?—Yes.

A young man who was known as " Yorky," a nickname, as he was a native of Yorkshire?—Yes, I believe so.

Did you tell Mr. Hopkins so when you were staying with him in February, 1867?—I can't tell whether I did or not.

Did you tell Mr. Hopkins that you couldn't remember the name of Evans at all?—I don't think it is at all probable that I did.

Question repeated.—If Mr. Hopkins says so, probably it is right.

Had any one suggested to you the name of Evans at the time?—I can't tell, for I have no recollection of it.

Will yon swear that some one else hadn't put the name of Evans to you as a survivor?—I have no recollection.

While you were staying at Mr. Hopkins's, was not a letter written to him in which it was asked whether a man named Richard Evans was on beard, and didn't you tell him that no such man was on board at all?—No answer.

I will tell you who wrote it. Vining & Co., the owners of the Bella, wrote to Mr. Hopkins, and asked him if a man named Richard Evans was one of the survivors. Do you remember saying you didn't recollect that man at all? Is that Mr. Hopkins's handwriting? (Letter produced.)—That signature to it is his.

Question repeated as to his having said he did not recollect Evans.—I don't remember it, but that such a thing happened I have no doubt, after seeing that letter.

There is the name of Poebles. What was his Christian name?—I don't remember.

Haven't you been to Mr. Mayhew, Adelaide-place, London Bridge, registrar of seamen, to get the name?—Good gracious, no! I don't even know where the place is.

Did you give directions to any one other than your attorney that James Pebbles, or Peebles, should be inquired after by the registrar of seamen?—Certainly not.

Do you recollect him as one of the crew now?—Not personally.

Do you recollect the name?—Yes.

Did you know that James was the other name?—I don't know that I did.

Do you mean to say you didn't mention the name of James Peebles as one of the survivors of the Bella?—No answer.

Was he one of the survivors?—I remember the name, but I can't say whether he was or not.

Listen to tills:—" 2, Wellealey Villas, Wellesley-road, Croydon, Dec. 19, 1867."

The Chief-Justice: What letter is this?

The Solicitor-General: To Captain Kellett from the claimant, my lord. (Reads):—

My Dear Old Friend,—It is with great pleasure I send this short note to you. My friend Cook told me he had seen you, and that you wished him to remember you to me. Nothing wouid give me greater pleasure than to see you and to talk over old times. I have great ploasure to say that I think all necessary evidence is now got, and that my case will soon be ended We have succeeded in finding two of the men who were saved with me, and I think that will put an end to the case. I do nob want it made known that we have these men, because they are sure to try and find them and bribe them. I have been confined to my bed for the last few days with erysipelas in the leg, but I think it will bo well to-morrow. I hope, my old friend, you enjoy good health.— Truly yours,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

I can't read the last line and a half of the letter. Will you look at it?—You read a letter of this description one way and I read it differently. (A laugh.)

Then you read it fairly.—The words that you can't make out are, " Where is Captain O'Malley gone?"

Where had you got two of the crew of the Bella?—Got them?

The Chief-Justice: He says " we succeeded in finding them."

The Solicitor-General: Where had you succeeded in finding two of the survivors of the Bella?—Reports came from Australia.

Where had you got these men?—That's the same question over again. The reports came from Australia.

That is not what I want to know. Where are they?—I believe they were in Melbourne.

Did you know their names?—I forgot what names they were.

Have you seen them?—No; I believe it turned out a false report.

That there were no such men at the time, at any rate?—No.

Have you seen any survivor since?—No.

Have you heard of them?—I don't think I can answer that question.

The Chief-Justice: This is an important matter; we are inquiring into it just now.

Witness: "Tis under inquiry.

The Solicitor-General: By whom?—My advisers.

How long has it been under inquiry by your advisers?—I can't state.

Months, or days, or weeks?—I believe it's not many days.

Have you had any communications about them from any one but Mr. Spofforth?— It strikes me I have.

What communications have you had?—Now I think you puzzle me.

What was the purport of them?—I have had reports at various times of persons said to be survivors of the Bella.

And they have all turned out to be false?—Yes, except the one now under inquiry. I can't speak as to that.

There was a report about the time this case came on?—Yes, I believe there was.

That was false, wasn't it?—I can't say.

Do you mean to say that?—I'm not in a position to answer the question.

Did you give up inquiring into the matter?—I never inquire at all; I leave it to my advisers.

Haven't yon ever had the curiosity to know where the men were who were said to be survivors of the Bella?—It might seem extraordinary to you, but I have not.

Have you heard whether the supposed survivors of the Bella are in England?—If you mean the men who turned up at the beginning of the case, I didn't hear anything about them except from Mr. Spofforth.

Can't you tell from whom you received such important information as that relating to the survivors of the Bella?—I have received letters, but I have left my counsel to act; I pay them for doing so.

Have you any belief as to where these supposed persons are at the present moment?—No.

Whether they are in England or Australia?—It is impossible for me to tell.

Do you recollect that at the end of 1867 and the beginning of 1868 there were further communications with Miss Weatley and Captain Kellett as to information from Ireland?—I tell you I know nothing about Miss Weatley; and, as to Capt. Kellett, you are welcome to see the letters he wrote to me.

What became of you after you left Stonyhurst? Where did you go?

The Foreman of the Jury: Before departing from this point the jury wish to know whether any farther evidence is to be given with reference to tho voyage of the Bella. We desire to put some questions which we should withhold if further evidence is forthcoming.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is impossible for me with propriety to answer that question.

The Foreman: It will not be out of place to postpone the questions which now occur to us?

The Chief-Justice: Not at all. Put the questions at any time you like.

The Solicitor-General: When I come in order to the shipwreck I shall have further questions.

Cross-examination resumed: What place is that? (Lithograph produced.)—I don't know.

Were you ever there in your life?—I think not by the look of it.

Have a good look at it and see. (Claimant did so.) Did you ever stay there in your life?—Not to my knowledge.

Did you ever stay there? (Photograph produced.)—I have seen a place something like that, but I can't be answerable as to whether I stayed there.

Have you ever stayed there?—I won't say from photographs whether I did or not.

But the photograph of a building is different from the photograph of a place. Where is it, do you think? Is it in France?—Certainly not in France; it is familiar to me.

Is it in England, or Ireland, or Scotland?—I can't say.

Is it an English or an Irish house?—I don't recollect where it is. (The claimant here asked to be allowed to see the photograph again.) Are you sure now whether it is in Ireland or England?—No.

Do you recognise any of them as being near Cahir?—No, I do not recognise them at all.

Do you recognise that (second photograph produced)?—No, I don't.

Is it in England or Ireland?—How can I tell, when I don't know it.

Do you recognise that (third photograph produced)?—No.

Do you recognise that (fourth photograph produced)?—You have a lot of black fellows here. (A laugh.)

I don't want you to recognise the black follows. See, do you know the building?— No.

Look at that (sixth photograph produced). Have you ever resided there?—I don't know.

Do you know Mr. and Mrs. Washington Hibbert?—Mrs. Washington Hibbert is my cousin.

Have you ever stayed with them?—Yes.

Where?—I can't think of the name.

How far from Salisbury?—It was either in Yorkshire or Warwickshire.

What is the name of Captain Hibbert's place, where your cousin is?—I forget the name for the moment.

Where is it?—I think, to the best of my recollection, it is in Yorkshire.

Did you ever stay there?—Yes.

Often?—Not very often.

How often?—Twice or three times, I think.

When?—How many years ago. I now think that Bilton Grange is the name of the place, and it is in Warwickshire.

In which is it, in Yorkshire or Warwickshire?—In Warwickshire, I think.

In what part of Warwickshire?—When you went there, at what station did you get out?—At Rugby or Crewe.

At which?—I don't exactly remember.

You say you were there two or three times. Can you tell me anybody you met there?—I recollect meeting my cousin Bertram there.

Bertram who?—Bertram Talbot.

Any one else?—I don't recollect.

Can you recollect anything you did there!—No.

Can you tell me the time of year you were there? Were the trees out or the leaves off?—I have an idea it was in the winter time.

What marks it in winter time in your memory?—I dont know.

You don't remember any one else?—No.

When was it tn your life? Was it when you were at Stonyhurst, or when you were in the army, or afterwards?—It was before I went to Ireland.

Was it while you were at Stonyhurst, or when you were a young lad?—I don't know.

Will you swear it was not whilst you were at Stonyhurst? No; I won't swear.

Will you swear you did not drive from Stonyhurst and go back after paying a visit there?—No; I won't swear.

In the daytime I mean, starting early in the morning. Will you swear you did not?—No; I don't see how I could do it.

Were all your visits in one year?—No. I am trying to speak the truth. Surely you don't want me to perjure myself.

Did you sleep there?—To the best of my recollection I remained there for two or three days.

About as long as you did at Burton Constable?—No.

Was it about the same time of your life?—I believe one visit was.

Then you can tell me what room you slept in?—No, that I cannot. If I went into the house I should recollect it, no doubt.

You can't tell whether it looked on to a garden, a lake, or a wood?—On a lawn. I think.

Is that it? (Photograph produced.)—If it is I don't know it.

Would it surprise you to learn that this—(the lithograph)—is Captain Washington Hibbert's house, and that these three are different views of Noyle, your grandfather's esidence?—No, it would not surprise me. On second consideration, that is a bird's eye view of it, and I certainly never had such a view of it when I was there. (Laughter.)

The views were inspected by the jury.

Are you surprised to learn what I have stated?—No; I don't know what tricks you are trying to play me with photographs. I know you got mine all smeared when they were sent abroad.

Would you be surprised to find that this one is a picture of the entrance to the barracks at Clonmel (marked G), and this the inside of the barracks at Cahir (marked D)?—Not at all. I have made up my mind not to answer anything about photographs.

Why did you not say so before you said you could not answer it? Mr. Washington Ribbert's, I must tell you, is a lithograph, though a bird's-eye view.

At a quarter to four the claimant asked for the cross-examination to be closed for the day. He felt much exhausted, owing to the excessive heat of the court, and would willingly remain for a quarter of an hour longer another day.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

TWENTY-FIFTH DAY.— FRIDAY, JUNE 16.

TWENTY-FOURTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Before the commencement of the proceedings, the jury desired that the witness-box might in future be kept clear of bystanders, in consequence of something which was overheard on the day previously.

The Claimant: On my oath as a gentleman I never heard anything said to me.

The Solicitor-General: I want to call your lordship's attention to a paper which has been distributed on the seats of the court, but which ought not to have been allowed by the ushers. (Paper handed up to the judge.)

An Usher: It is unknown to us, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: I have underlined what I object to.

The Chief-Justice: It is very improper, and I will punish any one who may repeat such conduct.

The Solicitor-General: That paper was brought to me by a person who felt it most deeply, and I must ask your lordship not to allow it to be continued.

The Chief-Justice: If I find anyone distributing those papers in future I shall certainly take serious notice of it.

Mr. Giffard: Will your lordship allow me to suggest, with reference to what has been said about the witness-box, that the counsel should change places in court? Then the witness would be surrounded by the gentlemen who are on the defendant's side. Otherwise there might be some suspicion, for which there is no ground.

The Chief-Justice: It is hardly worth while discussing the matter. I believe the question was raised yesterday as to whether a certain place was in Warwickshire or Yorkshire, and that some one said " Warwickshire."

The Solicitor-General: No, my lord, it was not that. Somebody said "Bilton Grange."

The Chief-Justice. I thought I heard the word "Warwickshire " used by some one.

The Solicitor-General trusted that what he had stated would not be taken as applying to any of his learned friends.

Mr. Giffard said that if the counsel were allowed to change places all grounds of suspicion would be removed.

The Chief-Justice: I heard the word said by some one sitting down by the witness-box, but from whom it came I cannot say. I hope such conduct will not be repeated

Mr. Giffard: I agree with what has been said by my learned friend as to the impropriety of those papers being distributed in court.

The Chief-Justice: I see there is the name of a person on the paper, and perhaps it will be well if the attorneys on both sides were to write to him, cautioning him not to repeat the offence.

The Solicitor-General: Probably that will be the best course, my lord. To some persons those papers will be painful in the highest degree.

The Claimant's cross examination by the Solicitor-General was then continued: I think since your return you have had interviews with several servants connected with the different portions of the Tichborne family?—Yes, some of them.

There was Mr. Cole, who was in Sir Henry and Lady Ann's service. I think you were three or four hours with him at Alresford?—Very probably.

Allen was butler to Mr. Robert Tichborne, was he not?—Yes.

You had a long interview with him, I think?—Yes, for about two hours and a half. I saw him for a short time at the hotel, and afterwards at his own house.

Was it a long interview?—I can't tell what you mean by a long interview.

Well, I should say two hours and a half was a long interview.—Well, it may be to you.

Mr. Barry was Major Hay's servant, was he not?—Yes.

You saw him at Leeds?—Yes.

And had a long conversation with him?—It might have been from three quarters of an hour to an hour.

Was that on the 1st February. 1868?—I don't remember. How is it possible for me to carry dates in my head like that?

Were you in Leeds in the early part of 1868?—Yes, about that time.

Was Crabbe a gardener in Sir Edward Doughty's service?—Yes.

Did you see him in October, 1867, and have much conversation with him?—I won't answer to dates. I have seen him on two occasions. The interviews might have been half an hour on one occasion, and ten minutes on the other.

Now about Mr. Burke, the gardener at Tichborne—did you have an interview with him? A long interview?—I can't say that. I saw him on several occasions when I drove by the village.

Bogle, the old confidential servant, I think, has been living with you?—Yes. I think it right to tell the jury that I have never seen the persons you have named, with the exception of Bogle, Carter, and M'Cann, without other parties being present. I have never seen Moore except in the presence of Mr. Spofforth.

When conversing with Allen, did he mention anything about a ball at Mr. Robert Tichborne's house at Bath?—I don't remember that he did.

Did you remind him of a ball?—No, I think not.

Just try to recollect. Do you remember any conversation about a ball?— I have no recollection about a ball at all.

Do you recollect a ball at Bath?—I do not. I have not the slightest recollection of any ball there.

Where did Mr. Tichborne live at Bath?—The second house in Sydney-place.

Did you ever remind Allen about a ball there?—I might have done, but I have no recollection of it now.

You were at Bath just after you left Stonyhurst?—Yes.

Was anybody staying with Mr. Robert Tichborne—any other members of the family?—I have no recollection who was in the house.

I suppose Mr. and Mrs. Tichborne were there?—Yes.

Anybody else?—No, I don't remember.

Did any accident happen at the ball?—I don't recollect the ball, so I can't recollect an accident.

Do you recollect anything happening during the ball?—No, I don't.

What other members of the family were in Bath at the time?—I can't say.

How long were you at Mr. Tichborne's on that occasion?—I can't tell.

I don't say to a day.—I think it was eight or ten days; but I can't speak positively about it.

Can't you remember whether there were any other members of the family with whom you were spending your time at Bath?—No, I can't.

You recollect the death's head pipes, you know. Can't you remember what relatives were there at the time?—No, I can't.

Were any of Mr. Robert Tichborne's brothers there?—I think not.

Are you able to say that for certain?—No.

What is your impression?—That there were not any.

Did any accident happen to either of Mr. Tichborne's brothers?—I really can't say. I don't remember any one being there.

But whilst you were in the house?—I cannot recollect.

Was Allen, the butler, married at the time?—Yes, I think so: but I'm not certain.

Did anything happen to Mrs. Allen at that time?—Upon my word I don't know. I don't see how you can imagine I should know all this.

Can't you recollect?—No answer.

Should you be surprised to find that there was a ball at Mr. Robert Tichborne's; that Sir Edward and Lady Doughty were there; that Sir Edward fell down the last flight of stairs backwards; and that Mrs. Allen was delivered of twins whilst the ball was going on?—I should say not. I don't believe that Sir Edward was there at the time.

Then you don't remember Sir Edward and Lady Doughty being there?—No, I don't think they were.

Can't you recollect other of your relations being in Bath at the time, and meeting from time to time at Mr Robert Tichborne's house?—There were a lot of friends there, but I can't recollect their names.

I mean any of the family?—I don't remember any.

Do you recollect any other ball at Bath at the time?—I don't remember any ball at Bath.

Do you remember a public ball, and anything happening to a member of your family?—I never went to a ball, and I am quite certain nothing happened to me.

Do you remember whether any of the young Nangles were at Bath at that time?—I don't recollect meeting them.

Did you meet them at any other time?—I think not at Bath.

Then or at any other time?—I have no recollection of it. What do you mean by any other time?

I mean Bath?—No.

Now that I suggest one of the young Nangles, do you remember anything happening?—There were more than two young Nangles.

Did you not recollect something happening to you and youngNangle?—No, I do not.

Should you bo surprised to hear that you went to a tradesmen's ball, and that they said that, as you would not let them go to the ball, you should not come to theirs?—I should not be surprised to hear anything from you; I am certain that never happened.

You have forgotten, then, that the Nangles and Sir Edward and Lady Doughty were there. Were there any of your Tichborne acquaintances there?—I have no recollection.

Did you meet Lord and Lady Arundel there?—I think not.

Nor Mr. and Mrs. William Stouvton?—No.

Do you recollect Major Henry Nangle?—Yes; Henry and Walter.

You know Henry when young?—Yes.

You knew him well?—I have seen him on several occasions.

When did he marry?—I don't remember.

He is your first cousin?—Yes.

Do you remember where the young lady lived?—No, I don't. I don't know whether he is married or not.

Do you know that he was engaged to be married at the time you were at Bath?— No, I do not.

Did you ever make an expedition with him to see his lady-love?—No, I did not. I don't remember his being in Bath.

But you know you have spoken about the death's-head pipes, and the White Lion, and so forth. Do these things not suggest something to you?—I don't think any suggestion of yours would lighten it up.

Don't you remember whether you went more than once to see the young lady? Such a thing has an interest you know to a young lad of nineteen. We recognise the ashes of our former flames even in our old age?—I have great confidence indeed that it did not happen.

You won't swear it?—No.

Did you ever see the same young lady in any other part of the country?—No, not to my recollection.

Did you ever dance with her?—If I have no recollection of the person, how can I tell you that?

But you might possibly. Did you ever know her sister?—I don't know who you are speaking of. The sister may be somebody I don't remember. I have not heard her name yet.

In 1848-9, when at Bath, what language did you talk to the persons with whom you were intimately associated?—No doubt I spoke both French and English.

Do you really mean to say that you don't remember Mr. and Mrs. Nangle and several of their children being there, aud that you talked French to them because you did not know English sufficiently well?—I don't remember their being there.

Do you remember a considerable dispute about a French word you were in the habit of using, and the Dictionary of the Academy being referred to?—I don't remember it.

Where did you meet your cousin, Henry Nangle?—At Boulogne.

But in England?—In London.

When?—When I lived in St. James-place, in 1853.

Was that the only time?—No; I met him in different places.

You are sure you saw him when you lived in St. James's-place?—If it was not Henry it was Walter. It was one of the two.

When did you last see Henry before you left Europe?—During one of my visits to England from Ireland. I don't know whether it was after I had left the regiment.

Where?—Somewhere in London, I think.

And that was the last time?—Yes.

Are you certain of that?—I don't think one can be certain of anything that happened years ago, but as far as my memory goes it was.

Are you certain?—No, I would not swear to it.

Will you swear you ever set eyes upon your cousin Henry after your visit to Bath in 1818–49, and before you returned from Australia?—I believe I have.

Did you ever talk to him in any other language but French?—That is a hard thing to say.

It is not, surely. I don't want to catch yon. You may have used a word of English, but did you ever converse with him except in French?—Yes; I have been about with him, and I am sure I should not be so rude as to talk French always to an English gentleman.

Did you ever talk French to him? Generally speaking, you say your conversations were in English.—I don't remember any particular occasion; I might have done.

Have you ever conversed with him except in the French language?—I believe I have, but I will not swear it.

Did you ever know a Mrs. Leigh?—Yes: several.

Tell me one.—You must inform me first to whom you are alluding.

Tell me any Mrs. Leigh you kuew after you left Stonyhurst, and before you went to Ireland.—No; I can't tell you. The name is very familiar to me.

Did you ever know a Mrs. Leigh, of Tichborne?—I think not. You are speaking of some lady visitor, I suppose?

Yes. You don't remember her?—No, not at all.

Do you recollect any French sentence you were perpetually saying to your consins the Nangles, and that it was a joke between you?—No; I do not.

You don't remember any incident connected with the Nangles at all at the time you were at Bath?—No; I don't.

And the different things I have told you do not remind you of them?—No; they do not.

Who is Mrs. Townley?—One of my cousins.

Where does she live?—Probably at Townley, but I don't know. Townley belongs to her husband's brother.

Where is Townlay?—In Lancashire.

Are you sure of that?—Yes; I am pretty near certain.

Are you quite certain?—Yes.

You will swear it is in Lancashire?—Well, if it ain't, it must be on the line dividing it from some other part of England.

That yon pledge your oath to?—Yes.

When Mrs. Townley came to Bee you, and asked you in what county it was, did you not say it was near Bath?—Certainly not.

Then it is not true?—Certainly not.

Did you ever see Townley?—Yes.

What sort of a place is it—brick, marble, stone, or tile-built?—The place is called Townley. It is the old seat of Colonel Townley.

Is there any house?—Yes.

Then, describe it.—I cannot do that sufficiently.

You have been there?—Yes, from Stonyhurst.

What distance is it from Stonyhurst?—About twelve miles.

Then, I suppose, you went there pretty often?—No; I don't think I was there more than twice.

What sort of a place is it?—I don't expect yon to give a George Robin's description of it. Has it a park?—Yes; the house is in a park.

A large park; and you drove up to it through gates?—Yes; but I don't remember.

Did you go to see your cousin?—I might have done; but the house belonged to Colonel Townley.

Are you quite sure you drove up through a park?—To the best of my recollection, I did. I think I went through a portion of a park. The house is not in the place itself, but some short distance off.

Do you mean there are houses round it?—No; I do not say that.

But what is the place?—There is a village called Townley.

Well, is it in the Village?—No; it is in the park.

I thought you said it was in the place?—You are trying to make me say anything, because you won't understand me. To the best of my recollection, it is in a park, and the village is close by it.

What sort of a house is it—brick or stone?—How can I tell that? It might have been plastered over, for aught I know.

Was it red or white looking?—I don't remember.

Had it a portico, or was it an Elizabethan house or not?—I don't remember.

Was it long or high?—I can't say.

Were there great towers about it?—Towers?

Yes; you know what towers are?—Yes; but I don't know what you may construe out of "towers" afterwards.

Whom did you meet there?—Mrs. Townley and the Colonel and his daughter. I am not implying the Mrs. Townley I mean was the Colonel's wife.

Any one else?—Colonel Townley's agent.

Who?—The general superintendent.

His name?—I don't remember; but it was some such name as Eastwood.

How long did you stay there?—I believe I came back the same night.

And you never slept there?—Really, when I come to think of it, I don't think I ever did.

Did you ever go there?—Yes, I did.

That you will swear?—Yes, I will.

And you went there twice whilst you were at Stonyhurst?—I am not sure that I went a second time.

Have you been there since you left Stonyhurst?—No, I think not.

Certain?—I have no remembrance.

Did yon sleep there the second time when you went over from Stonyhnrst?—I don't remember whether I did or not. I don't think I ever slept in the house at all.

Then you could not recollect your bedroom, go I will not ask you about that. Do you recognise this (a photograph of a building)?—I tell you again I am not going to speak to photographs.

Do yon know the place?—Not as Townley.

Or as any other place?—No, I don't recognise it. I have made up my mind not to speak from photographs. We have a lot of photographs here which have been in their hands, and which have been smeared over for the purpose of deceiving people.

The Solicitor-General requested the jury to inspect the photograph to see if it was a fair copy or not.

The Solicitor-General: Now, do you know this one (another photograph of a building)?—Not sufficiently to speak of it.

Explain your answer.—Well, I have seen some place like it, I believe, but I wont say where.

In England or Ireland?—In England.

Look at it again. What do you say it is?—I am not going to say it is anything.

You don't know it sufficiently to speak about it?—No; it looks like a barracks as much as anything, but I cannot say what it is.

Is there any house you stayed at which did look like barracks?—Not the house itself.

I mean from the outside?—That is a very wide question to put, but I think not.

Have you ever stayed in a house as large as that?—I don't know that I could judge of the size of the house from that. I don't recognise any house from the photograph.

Did you ever see that place (handing up another photograph)?—You may bring all the photographs in London, and keep on asking me questions in this way.

I don't propose to do that, but I want the jury to judge of these photographs as to whether they are fair copies or not. Did you ever see that place (another photograph)?—I can't say that I did. Have you any objection if I use my magnifying glass to it?

The Solicitor-General: Not the slightest; a glass does improve photographs, no doubt.

The Claimant: What is this little bit cut out here?

The Solicitor-General: That is where the name of the place was. I cut it out myself. Did you ever see this (another photograph)?—Yes, or some place similar to it, but I can't tell you where.

Surely you can tell me?—I don't recollect.

It is an uncommon-looking place, like a castle—surely you can speak to it?—You call it a castle, do you; to me it appears like a very old church.

An old church where? Will you pledge your oath to its being like a church?—Well, you want me to prejudice myself with the public.

The Solicitor-General: I shall prove what I am suggesting to you. Now, should you be surprised to hear that the first photograph is a view of Knoyle, your grandfather's residence, showing the bedroom of Roger Tichborne; that the second is Wardour Castle; that the third is a street in Cahir, showing the house in which Sir James Tichborne lodged when he came to see you; and that the fourth is another street in Cahir, showing the castle?—No, I should not be surprised at all.

How long were you at Cahir?—Six or seven months.

And you saw the castle?—Yes; but you don't mean to say that the photograph is anything like it.

[The photograph wan reproduced, and inspected by the claimant.]

When did you first go to Knoyle?—I think in 1847.

Do you recollect any ceremony there?—No.

Not anything done for the purpose of showing you, a young boy brought up in France, something you had never seen?—I don't know to what you are alluding. I don't recollect anything particular being done.

Who was there—any other members of your family? Did you go there alone, or with anybody else?—Yes, Alfred, I think.

In 1847?—No, I think it was later on when he was there.

Do you recollect anyone else?—No, I can hardly bear the visit in my memory at all.

At what time of the year was it?—I don't remember.

From what place did you come?—Tichborne, I think.

How did you get from Knoyle to Tichborne in those days?—I drove from—

From where?—Now don't pick me up; let me finish.

I beg your pardon—We drove to Winchester, then took the train to Salisbury, and drove from Salisbury to Knoyle.

Who took you over, or did you go by yourself?—I don't think I went by myself on the first occasion.

Who went with you?—I don't remember.

Were you ever there with Sir James Tichborne?—I think not.

With Lady Tichborne?—I think you are speaking of my visit some years previous to that.

I mean from 1847 onwards.—This side of 1847?

Were you ever at Knoyle with Sir James in 1847 onwards?—I think not. I was there with my father and mother a year or two previously—some years, I think.

Where did you go from with your father and mother?—From Upton.

How long was that before you went to Stonyhurst?—I don't know. I am certain I went there, because I have heard them speak of it.

Did you ever, from 1847, or including that time, go to Knoyle with Lady Tichborne?—Certainly not from Tichborne.

Were you ever at Knoyle with Lady Tichborne from 1847?—No, I think not.

How long was this first visit at Knoyle when you went from Tichborne?—It was only a short time, three or four days, I think.

When you left Knoyle where did you go?—I think to Wardour Castle.

That is your recollection?—I am not certain whether it was on that particular visit or not. I think it was after my second visit I went to Wardour. I may remember, if you will allow me to think a bit. I believe it was on the occasion about which you are speaking—I mean during 1847.

How long did you stay at Wardour?—I think about a week.

And where did you go then?—I think to Tichborne.

Whom did you meet at Knoyle?—Henry and Alfred Seymour, Mrs. Seymour, and the Misses Seymour, my aunts.

Can you remember your aunts' names?—I dare say I could if I were to think of it. One was named Ellen, to the best of my recollection.

Were there any others?—Yes.

What were their names?—I can't remember. I am not expected to know all their names.

Can you, do you think, he expected to know whom one of your aunt's married?—A Mr. Bouverie, I think; but, God bless me, I could have told you in a minute if I had looked at the book. One of them is married to Sir Henry Rawlinson, I believe.

Don't you know whether one of them was named Kmily?—Well, if you are going to cross-question me in this way with regard to names, the best way will be to devote myself of an evening to looking up these things. If you are going to be so severe on me, I tell you I will do it.

It might not be so advantageous to you after you had got it.—Perhaps not. I don't think it is fair for you to do as you are.

The Chief-Justice: It is legitimate and fair that the Solicitor-General should ask you questions before you have looked at books.

The Solicitor-General: What had you used to call your aunts? Did you call them Aunt Emily, Aunt Fanny, and so on?—Those dont happen to be their names.

But that is the way you used to call them?—I don't exactly remember. I can perhaps tell you in a few minutes.

What did you call your aunts when speaking of them?—I should call them Miss Seymours.

But when you were speaking to them?—Then I should use their Christian names, except Mrs. Bouverie.

Except Mrs. Bouverie?—Yes.

There were Jane and Ellen and Mrs. Bouverie, were there not?—Yes.

Then what did you call them?—Aunt Jane or Ellen most likely.

What should you call Mrs. Bouverie?—I can't recollect what I called her.

Who else did you g nerally meet at Knoyle?—I don't remember.

Was there anybody there with whom you played at chess?—I don't remember.

I mean with whom you played particularly?—No, I do not remember.

When did Mr. Seymour die?—In 1848; but I am not certain.

Did you see him just before his death?—What time do you mean?

In his last illness.—I think I saw him in the September of that year.

Where—in his bedroom, or downstairs?—I don't think he was confined to his bed then. I have no recollection of his being confined to his bed.

Are you prepared to swear that the last time you saw your grandfather he was not in bed and propped up with pillows?—I don't remember.

But he was known to be dying.—No, I think not. I may say that you are dying— that you will die some day. Do you mean it was an illness from which ha would die in a day or so?

Did you go to see your grandfather when he was hopelessly ill?—I have no recollection of his being so dangerously ill as you are talking about.

Was his a lingering illness, or did he die suddenly?—I think his illness lasted sometime.

When you last saw him was he walking, or in his carriage, or how?—I don't think he was in bed and propped up with pillows. I don't think he was so seriously ill as you have stated, otherwise I should not have taken a horse there. I took a horse down with me from London, and rode back from Knoyle. I don't think I ever saw him again after that visit. He died, I think, some two or three months afterwards.

Then you did not understand you were going to see your grandfather for the last time?—No, I think not.

Was he much as usual, or was he ill at all?—He was not well.

Nothing alarming? You did not go to pay him a farewell visit?—There, you are trying to catch me again. It was a farewell visit. It was a farewell visit before I went to Ireland.

Was it a farewell visit, and did you think that his life was about to close?—No, I don't think it was.

In what condition was he when you saw him?—I don't think he was confined to his bed. I have no distinct recollection of it.

Would it surprise you to find that he did not die at Knoyle at all? that Roger Tichborne was at Knoyle during his last illness? that Roger went over to Bath with Mrs. Hopkinson, where your grandfather was then lying, and that he died a month afterwards?—I deny it.

Who is Mrs. Hopkinson?—I don't recollect her at all. I knew a person of that name.

But in connection with Knoyle?—I don't recollect her.

She lived there. Don't you recollect such a lady?—No, I do not.

Would you be surprised to find that Mrs. Hopkinson was Mrs. Seymour's mother— that she was long resident at Knoyle when not living at Bath—that she was the constant companion of Roger Tichborne, and that she was on intimate and affectionate terms with him?— No, it would not. Now that you speak about it, I remember there was an old lady. I know who you mean, I believe. I hope the jury will not believe any of the rest you may state until you have proved it.

Is the rest of it true?—No.

What is not true?—That she was a constant companion of mine, or that I went with her to Bath.

Is it true that she was Mrs. Seymour's mother?—There was an aged lady at Bath, and I suspect she was the one you mean.

Was she tall or short?—She was rather short in stature if anything.

Perhaps she was not anything—nothing particular, perhaps?—Now you are trying to throw me off what I am saying.

Should you recognise her in a picture?—I doubt if I should.

She was short, you say?—Yes, she was under the medium standard.

Can you give me Mrs. Bouverie's name?—I don't remember.

Cannot you recollect your aunt before she changed her name?—No, I don't remember when she did marry.

Was not her name Jane?—I don't know; I am not so certain about that.

Will you swear to it?—No, you may have it down there.

Was not Mrs. Bouverie's name Jane?—Really I don't know. I have never thought of their names for years.

Have you forgotten the names you called your aunts by?—No.

Then you can tell me. Mrs. Bouverie has not lost her Christian name by her marnage.—I can't tell you. You have got me into confusion by turning the names about.

Will you say it is not Jane?—If you say so, I will not deny it.

Will you swear Jane was not her name?—I don't think Jane was the eldest.

I mean Mrs. Bouverie. I don't go into the comparative ages of young ladies. Was her name Jane? Have you forgotten it?—Yes.

Forgotten what you used to call her?—Who?

Your aunt?—I don't know what her Christian name was. What aunt?

Mrs. Bouverie. I will keep you to one at the time—No. I think I used, to address her as Mrs. Bouverie.

What did you call her before she was Mrs. Bouverie?—I can't tell.

What did you call your uncles? I hope that does not confuse you.—I used to call one Henry and the other Alfred.

When you addressed them what did you say—supposing you asked them to give you a piece of bread, or wanted them to go out for a walk?.—Probably I should say Uncle Henry or Uncle Alfred. Of course you were not there; but you have got it down, and that is much better, you know. I am certain, whichever way I may say it was there will be gentlemen who will come here to deny it.

What did yon call them?—Good gracious, are you going to that again?

How did yon address them when yon wanted to call their attention to anything?— I should say, very likely, Henry or Alfred.

Will you swear it,?—There, you are going to that swearing business again. (Laughter.) To the best of my recollection, I might at times say Henry, and at others Uncle Henry.

Yon won't commit yourself positively to that statement?—God forbid! I would not commit myself if I know it.

Did you ever shoot at Knoyle?—Do yon moan recniar shooting in the season?

Yes.—I don't recollect.

Do you mean you never shot at Knoyle?—I might liave shot, but I have no recollection. I might have gone out for a day or so.

You are sure you never shot at Knoyle during the season?—I have no recollection of it.

The Solicitor-General: I will read you a letter which Roger Tichborne addressed to Mr. Gosford:—

Knoyie House, Hendon, 13th Nov., 1848.

Dear Sir,—I should be very much obliged to you if you had the kindness to send me the " Marseillaise." It is among those papers that I gave you at Upton to take to me at Tichborne. If you send up the piece as soon as you will receive my letter, I shall be very much obliged to you. I went out shooting several times, but tho birds are so very wild in this country that I have not been able to kill anything. I shall be obliged to you if you will tell my uncle that I shall write to Mary. I think, from what I have heard my father say, that I shall be able to be at Tichborne in about a fortnight. I shall be ver happy to see myself at Tichborne, and what makes the pleasure greater is that it is for a longer time than I have ever been as yet.—I remain. dear sir, yours very affectionately,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Does that remind you that you did go out shooting several times in the season?—Yes, it does.

Had you forgotten it?—Yes, I had.

What did you want the " Marseillaise " for?—I can't remember.

What were they?—I should think everybody knows what they are.

What are they?—Why, it is a French song, of course.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine asked that the letter might be seen by the jury. He intended to call attention to tho spoiling of the early letters and the character of some of the handwriting.

The Chief-Justice: All that will have to be gone into by the jury.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I shall at the proper time call attention to the spelling of certain words, but at present I shall not do so. I intend ihat all the documents shall be seen by the jury.

The Chief-Justice: The observations made on letters or documents which may be used months hence will be less effective now than then, perhaps.

The Solicitor-General (continuing): Did you yourself ever stand for Pooler?—Ever stand?

Yes.—I don't think T did ever " stand." I was solicited to stand, but I declined doing so on account of my going abroad.

When was it you were solicited?—Some time before I went away.

Did you ever stand for any other place?—No.

When was it, then, you were asked to stand for Poole?—At the end of 1852 or the beginning of 1853, I think.

Who solicited you?—You must understand that it was not a regular meeting, but that a paper merely was sent to me. The same thing, I may say, has been done since I have returned.

Can't you say who solicited you?—No; I cannot remember the names of the gentlemen. I could easily get a copy of the paper, and then I could tell you.

Did you receive a deputation?—Yes.

There was a general election and a change of government at the time?—I don't remember.

The deputation waited upon you at Upton?—Yes.

And you received them in one of the rooms?—Yes.

And made them a reply?—Yes.

Was it a written reply or by word of mouth?—I declined hv word of month.

How came they to want you to stand for Poole?—Now, how can I tell what they thought?

I don't mean as to your personal qualifications. How came there to he an election at Poole?—I can't say that I remember. Something strikes me that it. was just at a time when an extra member was to be appointed—two members instead of one—but I can't speak for certain about it. It has simply crossed my mind.

Cannot you speak more definitely than that?—No; I did not bother my Load much

Do you remember when the extra member was appointed?—I do not, but something just now crossed my mind.

Cannot you remember as a fact that an extra member was elected for Poole at the time?—No; I cannot remember.

Can you tell me how the vacancy occurred?—No; I cannot.

Was the requisition what they would call " numerously and influentially signed?"—I don t remember.

Were there ten names or a hundred to it?—At this distance of time I cannot remember the exact number, but there were a great many more than ten names to it.

Just look at thin letter. Is it your handwriting?—Yes.

Then I will read it. It is addressed to your aunt, Lady Doughty:—

Cavalry Barracks, Canterbury, July 28, 1852.

My dear aunt,—Many thanks for your last letter, which I have the pleasure of receiving the day before yesterday. You must have "been no doubt much amazed when you heard of my going to he elections. Henry Seymour wrote to me expressing a wish that I should be with him at the time of the election, thinking that my name might have some kind of influence in Poole. I started at once, trying to find out what on earth had put it in Henry's head that I had influence in a place where I am not much more known than the man in the moon. As soon as I arrived I began my campaign with Mr. Woollett, who I find very obstinate in refusing to give his voto. I talked about, two hours on the subject, but to no purpose. I might just as well have sung " I'm afloat," for I got —

I don't think you have seen in the papers what has taken place at Limerick. The mob was so violent against the 3rd Dragoon Guards who were brought there on the occasion that orders to charge the mob were given (which duty they performed, I am sure, with no small degree of pleasure).

The Claimant: With blank cartridges.

The Solicitor-General continued reading:—

Three persons were knocked down in the charge, who were exciting the mob against the troops in the most violent manner. A man, three majors, and the lieutenant, and eleven men were knocked down from their horses, and were killed with stones. As though they wore not able to take care of themselves, fresh troops have been sent over from England to take care of them. Ireland is a delightful country, where civilization and polished manners are well understood.

I was very sorry to learn by your letter that you had not been so well lately as you could have wished. I hope that you feel yourself better. 1 supposed that my father and Alfred was to have arrived at Tichborne by this day. I hope that Alfred has such a good full moon face as he had last winter. Is it tiuo that he wishes to go into the marines? If such be the case he had better get his name put down at once, because, promotion being very slow in that wonderful regiment, he will have to wait a long time for his commission. This is not bad quarters, though very slow, by far better than the quarters in the south of Ireland. We have to deal with civilised persons about here; which we do not in Ireland. If I was obliged to go for five years in the North frontier of the Cape of Good Hope, or three years in the County of Tipperary, I would soonor go to the Cape to-morrow than go to Ireland again. The weather has been of late very hot indeed, and if it goes on much longer I shall have to wear some of the clothes which I had made for mo when I was going to India. The only misfortune about it is that I shall look much more like a cook than anything elso. I am going to an evening party to-morrow, where there is, I bolieve, 13 daughters. The invitation mentions a small family party, but I think that the family by itself will be large enough to please anybody. If wo take tea, what a quantity of bread and butter will be consumed in the course of the evening. Several of us have gone to the races, for they have obtained a few clays' leave for that purpose. There are a great many rumours going on about us, but it will all end, I believe, in our going to India in the course of two or three years to relieve the 14th Light Dragoon Guards. Having been made light, we must go to India some time or other. I hope that my uncle feels better now than when you wrote. Pray give him my love, as also to my father and brother, and also to my uncles,—I remain, my dear aunt, your affectionate nephew,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

The Solicitor-General: There is another letter which you wrote to Mr. Seymour:—

Cavalry Barracks, Canterbury.

My dear Henry,—I was very happy to learn by your note, which you sent mo this morning on my departure from Poole, that you had at last been elected. I was sorry that my being so little known prevented me from doing more for you.

We heard from my father about a fortnight ago. He mentioned his intention of coming over to England with Alfred towards the latter part of this month or the beginning of next.

I was almost at a loss for news. Everybody seemed to have given up the idea of writing to me.

My uncle has, from what I have heard, passed through Winchester. I could not help remarking, the last time I saw him, how much weaker he was than when I saw him last winter. I am afraid the autumn and winter will be very trying to him. Much has been said Lately about giving us a compensation for all the different expenses to which we have been put; but I don't think that the chances of the Government giving us any sum of money Ls worth altogether sixpence.

Pray remember me very kindly to Mrs. Sey$$Unclear$$ and your sisters and believe me, my dear Henry, yours truly.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

July 19, 1852.

Now, upon your solemn oath, did not Itoger Charles Tiehborno go down to help Mr. Seymour, and is there a syllable of truth in your being asked to stand?—Mr. Seymour was member for Poole when I went down.

And when there was an extra member?—Yes.

The Court then adjourned for an hour.

On the re-assembling of the Court, the Solicitor-General read the following letter written by the claimant to Mr. Henry Dauby Seymour?—

Alresford, Feb. 10, 1867.

My dear Uncle—You will excuse me not communicating with you before. I have been so shamefully treated since I have arrived in England that I do not know who were my friends. I am glad to find you are a member for Poole. I suppose you remember the time they wanted me to stand for it.—Hoping to see you before long, and to renew the acquaintance, I remain, your affectionate nephew.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

I expect mama to arrive every day.

The Solicitor-General: In the letter I read before luncheon you addressed Mr. Seymour as " Dear Henry," and it ends, " Truly yours, R. C. Tichborne." The letter which I have just read ends with " Your affectionate nephew." Before you went away, in 1856, did you ever address Mr. Henry Danby Seymour by any title except his Christian name?—'Tis hard for me to say.

Did you address him as anything but " My dear Henry?"—I believe I have done so.

I don't say usually, but on any one single occasion before you left Europe in '53, have you ever addressed Mr. Seymour in any other way than as " Dear Henry," or " My dear Henry?"—I believe that I have, frequently.

Will your swear it?—I don't see how I can. I don't remember any particular instance of it.

Did you ever in your life, before you left Europe in '53, sign yourself as his nepliew?—I can't undertake to say that.

Don't you know you never did?—No, I can't say that I never did.

The Chief-Justice: What was the difference in your ages, if any?

Claimant: There is from seven to eight or nine years difference.

The Solicitor-General: Who is the elder?—He is, of course.

Wasn't it your invariable custom to address him as " My dear Henry?"—I believe it was.

You seem to have written to Mr. Henry Seymour to congratulate him on his success at Poole?—I don't think it implies that.

[The Solicitor-General here read the letter to Mr. Seymour, dated July 19.]

Claimant: I thought you meant the other letter.

Did you ever go upon any occasion to Knoyle after the Poole election?—Yes, I believe I did.

When?—I can't tell, but I feel almost certain I went after that.

If you arc almost certain, you can tell me when it was, and how long you stayed. — No, I have no recollection.

You are not certain whether you did or not?—No.

Don't you recollect anything taking place about your journey?—No.

Where did you last see Mr. Henry Seymour before you left Europe?—I am under the impression it was in London.

How long before you went to America had you seen Mr. Henry Seymour?—A very short time.

A few weeks?—Less than that.

A few days?—Yes.

Do you recollect anything that passed between you?—I don't recollect anything in particular.

Who was butler at Knoyle when you went there?—I don't recollect his name.

Did you know much of him?—Probably I knew him very well.

I mean had you anything in particular to do with him?—I really can't remember.

Did you ever do anything iu his roomoom?—I was rather fond of making friens of such people. I can't say what it was.

You were rather fond of malting friends of such people. Was that your manner at the time?—When I say friends I mean acquaintances.—I really can't tell you everything that happened to me in my life.

I don't expect you to do so. How old was Mr. Seymour when he died? Was he a man Well on in life?—Yes.

Was be a great smoker?—I don't tbink be smoked at all.

Is that your impression?—Yes.

Can't you give more than impression as to the habits of your grandfather?—It is impossible for me to tell you all these things.

You were a smoker. We have heard of the death's pipes?—Yes.

Where did you smoke at KnoyleKnoyle? In yor ow 'room?—Aywhere' .I c doubt I made use of the butler's room, but I won't say, because I don't remember.ould No

Would you be surprised to find that Mr. Seymour couldn't bear smoking, and that you had to go and smoke in Mr. Alfred Seymour's room, in tlio butler's cottage in the village?—I don't remember.

Now that I have suggested to you it was in the village, do you remember where it was?—I have no doubt it, was part of the establishment, but I can't say.

How soon after you left Stonyhurst did you become aware you had got a commission in the army?—I can't exactly say.

I don't mean a month or a week. How soon after?—I think it was four or five months after I left Stonyhurst.

Where did you spend your time when you were preparing for your examination? At Grosvenor-street.

At Mr. Henry Seymour's?—Yes.

Who was in the house when you were there?—At different times there were different people there.

Were his brother and sisters there?—Yes; I have seen thorn during the time I was there.

Had Mr. Seymour, your grandfather, another house in London?—Very likely that house belonged to him.

Don't you know whether your uncle Henry Seymour had a separate house from his father?—I don't remember seeing Mr. Seymour in town at all.

Which of the sisters did you see there?—I have do doubt I have seen them all while I was there.

What did you do by way of preparation for the army?—Did you read by yourself or had you a tutor?—I had a tutor.

Who was he?—He was a professor.

What was his name?—I can't say.

Where was he a professor?—Really I can't tell; perhaps when I said professor I used a wrons; word.

What was he a professor of?—He was a professor of fortifications.

Do you know that he gave lectures anywhere?—Not that I am aware.

Did he teach you fortifications?—He did.

What books did you read?—I don't remember.

Can you remember one?—No.

What sort of book was it? English, French, or Latin?—Perhaps you would like to know whether it was Greek?

No. I do not propose to go as far as Greek to-day.—It was English then.

Did you go far in fortifications?—Sufficiently to pass.

Did he teach yon anything else but fortifications?—He taught me the landmarks

The landmarks in surveying?—The landmarks of England. Perhaps I am giving the wrong expression. I can't explain it.

What are the landmarks ot England?—It insinuates the formation of the points of land round the coast.

Can you give me any of the points?—No.

Well, the only points I know are the Needles. (Laughter.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You're too sharp. (Renewed laughter.)

The Solicitor-General (to claimant): What is a landmark in England?—I can't give you any explanation.

Did you pass in land marks?—Yes.

Was that a head of examination?—Probably it came under fortifications

What kind of study is this about fortifications?—I don't remember.

Well, just at this moment it would be interesting to know the state of army education in 1849. Can't you tell me?—If I had known you were going to ask I might have been able to tell you.

What was there that you learned besides the landmarks and fortifications?— There were other subjects, but I don't remember what they were. I was only coached up to go through it, and I didn't remember after.

Who coached you up?—George Greenwood coached me a good deal.

You mean Colonel Greenwoed. I want to know who the real. professor was?—I don't remember.

How long was George Greenwood coaching you?— A good deal at different times.

In London?—No, in Hampshire.

Where in Hampshire?—At Tichborne and Brookwood.

Did you read any history when you were studying in London?—I can t say whether I did or not.

Were you examined in history?—I don't remember. You have the certificate— that will tell you.

Did you read any geography?—Yes, of course I should have to road geography.

Did you read it with this gentleman or by yourself?—I can't say.

Were you coached in geography?—I believe not, I read it thoroughly.

What book in geography did you read?—I have hot tho slightest recollection in the world.

What geography was it—English or European?—European, I believe.

Did you get a set of maps?—There were maps in the geography, or in connection with it.

Did you draw maps?—Yes, I have drawn maps.

I mean, did you draw maps at this time?—I don't remember.

Was your English made matter of teaching at that time?—it was made a matter of correction.

By the fortification man?—Yes; be corrected by English.

Were you some months continuously in England reading these things—landmarks, English. and fortifications?—Yes.

Had you more than one teacher?—I recollect one. I can't say more.

Can't you say you had more than one?—I think there were two. You want me to recollect what occurred twenty years ago the same as if it occurred yesterday. I am qnite ready to tell you everything I know.

Can't you give me the name of either of them?—No.

Have you ever seen them since?—Not to recognise them.

When you were getting up witnesses of your identity, didn't it occur to yon that it would be a good tiling to get those two gentlemen who prepared you for the army? Don't you know they would be valuable?—Yes; but I have 117 more witnesses for my case, and if yon want 200 more you can have them.

The Chief-Justice: Do you say you have 117 witnesses?

The Claimant: Yes, my lord; and if we want 200 more we can have them.

The Solicitor-General: Can't you get these two gentlemen?—If you have any wish, tny agent will try and get them for yon.

Did you learn mathematics? —Yes.

What books did you use?—Why, mathematics were necessary for the fortifications.

But do you recollect what books in mathematics you read?—No.

Did you learn German?—It was necessary for the examination, but I did not learn it.

Was the name of the man who read to you " Mobilly" or " Mabilly?—I can't say; it was some kind of name like that. I have no recollection of the name.

Where did he live?—It appears you found him out; that saves me the trouble.

Where did he live?—I don't know.

Do you know where he came from, and where he taught you?—No.

Well, is that the name of the person who came to you at Orosvenor street and taught you—Mobilly or Mabilly?—I can't say; that is like the name.

Were they people who came and gave you lessons and then went away?—I believe I went to them.

Surely you remember where you went to see them?—No.

You went to some other part of London?—It wasn't far from Grosvenor-steeet.

Do you know Owsbury?—I don't by that name.

Or anything sounding like it?—This is like bandy the other day. You kept Hie half an hour about bandy, and I afterwards found it was the same as hockey.

How did you find that out?—I took the trouble to look into the dictionary, and I round that bandy, hockey, and golf were the same.

Did you know of a Mr. Mobilly or Mabilly at Owsbury?—I don't know that that is the name.

Do you know that it is within a mile and a half of Grosvenor-street? — Considering that I don't know whether there is such a place I can't be expected to tell you where it is.

Just listen to this letter, written on the 10th December, 1849, by Roger Charles Tichborne to Mr. Gosford:—

Dear Sir,—I should feel very much obliged to you if you had the kindness to write or send a note to Mr. Mabilly at Owsbury, to let him know I do not intend to take any more lessons from him at present. I should also be obliged to you if you paid him for the lessons I have had, and let me know how much it is, that I may send a post-office order by return of post. I have received two letters from him to let me know that the time for joining my regiment is near, and that I must study. I am going to write to him to say I am going to study in London, and cannot study with him at present.

Now, can you tell mo where Owsbury is, and who Mabilly was?—No. I don't recollect.

Would you be surprised to find that this gentleman was an English clergyman living within three miles of Tichborne?—What place is it?

You are a Hampshire man. and you ought to know. The word is spelt in your own letter?—It is the name of some house. There is no such place as Owsbury.

Will you swear there is no such village?—There may be some poking little hole, with two or three houses. (Laughter.)

That will be pleasant for the folks down there when they read it. So you can't tell me where Owsbury is?—For the last three or four years I have been round Tiohborne, and I have never heard of such a place. I have driven round and round the neighbourhood for six months.

Don't you know it is on the top of a hill, with a windmill on the top?—Do you mean to assert there is a windmill within three miles of Tichborne?

I don't mean to assert anything. I simply ask you a question. This is a place to which, as I suggest, you went three times a week for three months to Mr. Mabilly?— I have no recollection of the village or the windmill either. We were talking about London when you mentioned this place, and you took me off my guard.

The Solicitor-General: The jury will judge whether the question was fair or not.

Claimant: I didn't say the question was unfair for you. (A laugh.)

The Solicitor-General: I don't know that I should listen to these insults.

Claimant: I have no intention, Sir John, that that should be taken as an insult. You also took something I said the other day as an insult, and I assure you I never meant it as such.

The Solicitor-General: What did Mabilly teach you?—Something in connection vith the examination.

What was it?—Correction of English.

Was that all he taught you?—I don't remember.

Did you go to him, or did he come to you?—I don't remember. I think I used to ride over there.

How often?—I have no remembrance.

When you went down to pass for your examination, who went with you?—Colonel George Greenwood.

Where did you go from?—From Tichborne, I think.

And where did you go to?—To Sandhurst.

How long were you at Sandhurst?—I can't remember how many days it was.

Was anybody else with you besides Colonel George Greenwood?—There was some body else.

Who was it?—Dalby Radcliffe and his son.

Did you sleep at Sandhurst?—I am under the impression I slept there one night; we generally rode back to Tichborne.

Are you sure you slept at Sandhurst?—Pretty nigh certain.

Was it a hotel or an inn?—I think it was one or the other.

Did Colonel Greenwood go with you every day?—To the best of my recollection he did.

Do you recollect telling Mr. Scott that you slept at the " Tumble-down Dick?"—The word never escaped my lips. I stopped at a pothouse called " The Duke" or something, and in the morning I wont to breakfast with Mr. Radcliffe at the " Tumbledown Dick."

It being four o'clock, tbe further examination of the claimant was postponed, before the rising of the Court, the Chief Justice, addressing the counsel engaged, said: After the statement of the claimant as to the 117 witnesses, I should be glad to have a few minutes' conversation with the (Solicitor-General and Serjeant Ballantine.

The Court then adjourned till Monday.

TWENTY-SIXTH DAY. —MONDAY, JUNE 19.

TWENTY-FIFTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination, by the Solicitor-General, was continued: I have taken you through your life in Paris, your life at Stonyhurst, your visits to Knoyle and Bath, and your preparation for the army. Now I will ask you, is there any incident—I care not what it is—which you can recollect of the first sixteen years of your life in Paris, but which you have not yet told me?—I am quite ready to answer any question you may ask me.

It is not a question of my memory, but of yours. Is there any incident in your Paris life which you can suggest to me?—Nothing that I can remember.

Is there any incident of your college life at Stonyhurst which you now remember and which you will state to me?—No.

Nothing in addition to what you have stated to Mr. Roupell, to Mr. Giffard, and myself?—Not that I remember.

Is there any incident about your visits to Knoyle that you'll state to me?—No, I think not.

Or at Mrs. Washington Hibbert's?—No.

Is there any incidont connected with your preparation for the army and your passing at Sandhurst which you'll state to me?—No; nothing more than the name of a place was given wrong.

If I pronounced it wrongly, you spelt it wrongly. I showed you your own letter, and it was spelt " Owsbury."

The Chief-Justice: How is it pronounced?

The Claimant: "Husselbury," my lord. Sir John led me to believe it was some place near London.

The Solicitor-General: Is there anything connected with yonr visits at Mr. Robert Tichborne's house at Bath that you remember?—No, I think not.

Before I go any further, I will mention a simple matter that occurred to me on Friday. I have observed our friend, Dr. Forbes Winslow, here for the last few days. Is he one of your witnesses?—'Pon my word, I don't know. I don't know the gentleman.

You don't know whether he has been sent for since yonr Stonyhurst evidence?—I don't know.

Did you take any furniture with you to Ireland?—I don't remember taking any.

Did you take any horsee over?—Yes.

Did you buy them in London, or where?—I bought one in London, one in Hampshire, and another in Maidstone.

Did you buy them yourself?—Yes.

Was Muston your groom then?—Yes.

Carter was for some time your servant?—Yes.

When you returned you saw him, and he re-entered your service ?—Yes.

Is it true that he conversed with you for some hours about the different officers in the regiment, and about events which occurred when you were with the regiment?— Not for some hours. I should say about half an hour.

But you had a longer conversation afterwards?—Yes.

So that is substantially true that you had some hours' conversation together about matters connected with the regiment?—I should think that it is true.

M'Cann also entered your service?—I must deny that.

Then M'Cann was a visitor?—Yes.

For many months?—He was for some time.

He was staying with you for months?—He was with me for some months.

And supported by you?—By my mother, which is the same thing.

Would this be substantially true, that the first night he went to see you he slept at the Prince of Wales Hotel, at Croydon, and that the next day he remained talking with you for some hours?—I should think his conversation did not last more than half an hour.

Is it substantially true that early in March, 1867, he was talking with you for some hours?—He remained in the house for some time, but he was not in conversation with me.

You had half an hour's conversation with him the first day, the same the next day, and so on, on other occasions?—Yes.

Would it be true that Marks, the Sergeant-Major, had a long conversation with you?—Yes, it lasted about half an hour, I think.

Would it be true of Wm. Quinn, the sergeant-major, that on the 31st of October, 1867, he saw you at 2, Wellesley Villas, Croydon, and had many hours' conversation with you?—I don't know about the date. I saw him for about two hours.

Is the statement in his affidavit substantially true?—Yes.

Is it substantially true that in December, 1867, you saw and had a long conversation with Private Carrol?—I don't see any reason to doubt it. I must tell yon that these conversations were questions put by them for the purpose of identifying me.

Would it be true to say that you had a long conversation with Patrick Barry at Leeds?—We had a conversation.

Was it a long conversation?—I should like you to tell me what you call a long conversation.

It isn't my expression. It is in the affidavit of your own witness.—When you tell me what a long conversation is, I will tell you whether my conversation with him was. long or not.

This is Patrick Barry's expression, made in your behalf.—I think not. I should think it was the expression of the solicitor who drew up the affidavit.

You saw Arnold Hamlet in Liverpool in April, '68, and he had several hours' conversation with you?—I don't think that would he true. I had a conversation with him. but certainlv it did not last more than an hour.

Is it substantially true, but with an exaggeration?—Yes. It is hard for me to recollect. It appears by you that I can recollect anything you wish me to.

You know you recollect—well, I won't mind mentioning it.—Yes; perhaps you had better refer to the buttons again. (A laugh.)

Do you recollect John Lessware?—Yes.

He is a Liverpool witness?—Yes.

You had a long conversation with him?—Yes; I had nothing particular to do at the time.

Where did you go from to Dublin?—London.

I will remind you of some letters you deposited. There are a couple of letters here from Roger Charles Tichborne to Lady Tichborne. They are dated from Portobello Barracks, Dublin, and it appears they were deposited by you in the Court of Chancery Where did you get them from?—I don't understand what you mean.

They are letters which appear to have come from your custody, and to have been deposited by you in the Court of Chancery.—I am sure I cannot tell you where I got them from.

One of the letters is dated the 30th October, and the other the 5th of December, 1849.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Let him see them. (First letter handed to claimant.) Claimant: I can't tell where I got it. There were letters which my mother gave Mr. Holmes.

But these were deposited by you in the Court of Chancery.—That would not prevent my mother giving them to Mr. Holmes.

Do you mean to say you haven't seen this letter?—I have never seen it since I wrote it until now.

The Solicitor-General then read the letter, which was to the following effect:—

My dear Mother—I haven't been able to write to you so soon as I could have wished because, my occupations having been very numerous, I have had but little time to write letters. I arrived in Ireland on the 25th of the month. We had a fine passage from Liverpool to Kingstown. We were only nine hours on sea. There is a railroad from Dublin to Kingstown, and, as the distance is only nine miles, it makes it the more pleasant. I joined my regiment on the 27th. The Pertobello Barracks, where I am, are a very large and beautiful barracks. There is, besides the Carabineers, a regiment of artillery. My drill commenced on the 29th. I have not yet been able to see much of Dublin, but I am pleased with what I have seen. There are as fine streets and squares in Dublin as in any town in the world. There is an inspection of the regiment to morrow. Prince George is coming to inspect all the troops in Dublin. It will be a fine thing to see, because there are so many regiments in Dublin. I suppose my father has been in Paris for some time.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine remarked that the word " has was spelt " as" in the original.

Give my love to my father and Alfred, and believe me, my dear mother, over your affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I'll ask the jury to observe the words " Portobello Barracks" in that letter. They are written twice, at the top and in the middle. I hope they and your lordship will also notice the expression, " regiment of artillery."

The Solicitor-General: It appears you went from Liverpool to Kingstown, and stayed a day at Kingstown. When you went from Kingstown to Dublin where did you go?—To a hotel.

Do you recollect whether you joined the regiment the next day?—No; I think not.

How long were you in Dublin before joining?—Four or five days.

What were you doing during that time?—I don't remember.

Where in Dublin did you join the regiment?—Portobello.

Who received you?—I don't remember. I was dining with them a night or two previous.

Whom did you see when you formally joined?—I don't remember.

Who was the colonel at that time?—Sir Thomas Hawker.

I don't mean the colonel-commandant.—Then it was Colonel Jackson.

When did you first see the colonel?—I don't remember.

Don't you remember who was with him when you first saw him?—No.

The Chief-Justice: There is a gentleman standing near the jury box. That place must be kept clear.

Sir George Honyman: That is Mr. Hawkins's clerk, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: It is an inconvenience to the jury. The usher must keep it clear.

Cross-examination resumed: Were you in full uniform when you met the colonel?—I don't remember when I did meet him.

Had you your regimentals with you?—Some of them were made in Ireland.

Then you mean some of them were made in this country?—Yes; the accoutrements, I mean.

When you first presented yourself to the colonel, did you go in full regimentals?— There is no doubt I did. I don't recollect the circumstance.

Do you recollect anything that passed between the colonel and yourself when you joined?—No; I don't recollect the first meeting with the colonel.

I am not speaking of the first meeting with the colonel. I mean when you formally presented yourself?—To the best of my belief, Major Jones or Major Hay introduced me.

You don't recollect anything that passed?—No.

You don't recollect his sending you anywhere?—No.

Who was the adjutant?—Bickerstaff, I think.

Did anything pass with him?—What do you mean?

Do you remember any incident or anything he said to you?—Dear me, I don't.

Do you remember Major Foster?—He was Captain Foster.

Do you remember anything being done by him when you joined the regiment?—I was gazetted to his troop first, and I was afterwards joined to " Ah " (A) troop. Is that what you mean?

No; I mean do you recollect you and he doing anything together?—No.

How many barracks are there in Dublin?—I can't tell you, there are so many.

Did you go to the Castle while you were at Portobello?—Yes; several times.

Where in the Castle?—It is in St. James's district, I think.

What is the size of St. James's district?—I can't tell you.

Whereabouts does the Castle stand in Dublin?—I can't say. To the best ot my recollection, it stands to the north-west.

Near the river?—I don't remember.

What is the river?—I don't know, I am sure. I forget what river it is.

How came you to go to the Castle?—I was presented to the Lord-Lieutenant on one occasion

Was that the first occasion?—I believe it was.

Who was the Lord-Lieutenant?—I believe it was Clarendon.

Are you sure?—To the best of my recollection.

Was he Lord-Lieutenant all the time you were there?—I don't exactly remember.

Who was the Commander-in-Chief?—The Lord-Lieutenant would be the Commander-in-Chief.

Who was the Commander of the Forces?—I don't remember.

Who presented you to the Lord-Lieutenant?—I really don't remember. I think it was Colonel Jackson.

At what were you presented?—At a levée.

Where was it held?—At the Castle, I think.

Can you recollect how many times you were at the Castle altogether?—Three or four times.

You were presented on one occasion, you say. What were the other occasions on which you went to the Castle?—There were balls at the Castle.

The Castle is the place where the Lord-Lieutenant lives, is it?—Yes, I believe it is.

Was the Castle the place at which Lord Clarendon lived?—I can't say.

Was he much in Dublin while you were there?—I don't recollect.

Do you remember where the Commander of the Forces lived?—He lived at the Castle.

Can't you give me a better notion of the Castle than that it is in St. James's district? At which side of the river is it?—I don't remember at this moment.

Do you remember that there is a terrace with steps down to the river from it?—No.

Does it stand in a park, or is there any ground about it?—No, I think not.

Where were you inspected when the Duke of Cambridge went over?—In Phœnix Park.

Did you go into society much in Dublin?—Not very much.

Did you go at all?—I used occasionally to go to a ball.

Where?—In different places where the balls were held.

Yes, I know; but where were the balls held?—At the Castle, and there were one or two private balls.

Can you give me the name of any private gentleman at whose house you went to a ball?—I don't remember.

Did you go out to dine?—I don't think I have a right to tell you where I dined.

I'm afraid I must ask you to tax your memory as to the name of any gentleman at whose house you dined?—I don't remember.

What, not one?—Not one.

Or lady?—No; you're sure to get them.

Did you make any acquaintance with any ladies or gentlemen in Dublin?—I dare say I did.

Can you give me the name of any?—No.

Not one?—No.

Did you visit out of Dublin at all?—I can't see what my visits have to do with this.

But I do. I don't want to hurt you. Have you visited out of Dublin?—Yes.

Where?—In Meath.

Do you mean you went to stay?—No, I returned the same night.

Whom aid you visit at Meath?—A friend of Mr. McEvoy.

You don't remember the name?—No.

Did you go with Mr. McEvoy?—Yes.

When you got over to Ireland, did you see any people you knew?—Yes.

Who were they?—There was a Mr. Bellew.

Was he any relation of Lord Bellew?—He was probably his son.

Was he about your own age?—I don't think there was much difference.

Where had you met him?—He was at Stonyhurst.

Where did you see him?—Both at Cahir and in Dublin.

I'm speaking of Dublin now?—I think I saw him in Dublin once.

Did you know anybody else except Mr. Bellew?—Yes, Charles de Brimont.

He was your cousin, you know. Was there any person whom you had met before, and whom you visited when you went to Ireland?—Yes, there was a Mr. Burke and and a Mr. Reece.

Did you ride or walk with Mr. Burke?—I believe I have been out riding with him.

Can you tell me anything more about him?—I don t know what you want to know.

Well, Burke is a common name in Ireland. Can't you tell me something else about him?—I don't remember.

Did you go to any place out of Dublin except Meath?—Yes, lots of places.

Have you been on a visit to any other place except Meath?—I don't remember just now. I used to visit at Howth Castle.

Is that where Lord Howth lives?—Yes.

How far is it from Dublin?—Ten or twelve miles.

Is it an old or a new house?—Old.

Where does it stand?—On a neck of land opposite Kingston Bay.

Who did you go to see at Howbh?—I went to see Lord St. Lawrence.

When did you first go to Howth?—Before I joined the regiment.

Is that the time you were speaking of to my learned friend when you said the boat capsized?—I reallv can't say.

How did you go to Howth from Dublin?—I used to ride.

Did you go there frequently?—No.

Were Lord St. Lawrence and you good friends?—Yes.

Was he any connection of yours?—He was considered a kind of connection, I think, but it was a long way off.

Was there any other member of the family at Lord Howth's?—There was; his sister.

What was her name?—I think she got married while I was there.

Do you remember her Christian or surname?—Her surname would be Howth.

You don't remember what her Christian name was—Mary or Elizabeth?—I don't remember.

Was she a young lady?—No answer.

A mean was she younger or older than Lord St. Lawrence?—I don't think, you have a right to ask me that question.

Very well; I withdraw it. Did you meet this lady anywhere else?—To the best of my belief I did, but I can't say where.

When you came back to this country, did you call on Lord St. Lawrence?—I did, at his request.

Do you mean to assert that Lord St. Lawrence requested you to call?—My recollection is he requested a gentleman in the House of Commons to tell me to call on him.

Who was the gentleman in the House of Commons?—Mr. Guilford Onslow.

You found him at 14, St. James's-place?—Yes.

Was there a person present when you were there?—Yes; I was kept waiting in the hall for a quarter of an hour, which I considered very insulting. There was a tall man there.

Did you not say to Lord St. Lawrence that Howth was two miles from Dublin? Did he ask you how you got there, and did you say you walked and rode there, and that it was a very pleasant place?—I never said I walked there.

Did he ask you did you remember anything particular that occurred during your visits, and did you reply, " Nothing remarkable"? Did he ask you to describe the situation of Howth and the grounds of Howth, and do you remember being unable to do it?— I do not. I felt very uneasy on account of the ungentlemanly way in which he treated me.

Did he then say, " It is nine miles from Dublin to Howth, and not two. I'm quite certain we never walked to Howth. 'Tis quite clear you know nothing about it. Good morning"?—(Daughter.)—I can't say; but I very much doubt it.

Will you swear this did not happen?—I don't think he could have said it was nine miles from Dublin to Howth; it is more than nine.

Will you swear he said anything of that?—I will not. He insulted me in such a manner that I don't know what he said.

The Chief-Justice: How did he insult you?

The Claimant: By keeping a servant in the room, my lord, and the insolent way in which he asked me questions.

The Solicitor-General: Will you swear he didn't use words like those I have quoted?— don't remember what passed. 'Tis quite certain he said nothing about walking. I don't remember what it was—it was something very insulting.

Did he turn to the man in the room and say, " I had him there, Hallam"? (Laughter.)—I have no doubt he considered himself very clever. He never said so in my presence.

Do you recollect anything remarkable happening during any of your visits to Howth?—Yes; I remember falling off my horse in a ditch, and I remember another when a boat capsized.

Where were you going when the boat capsized?—From Dublin.

When did it happen?—As we were landing.

What did you land on?—There was gravel there, I think, and a good deal of mud.

Did this happen when you were first quartered in Dublin?—Yes.

Are you sure?—Yes, I am pretty near sure of it.

Are you not entirely sure?—I am not sure of anything as regards memory.

Where did Mr. Reece live?—At the other side of the Iron Bridge Barracks. I have dined there.

Were you ever the orderly officer?—Yes, many a time.

Were you officer of the day?—Yes.

How often?—Really, I can't tell you how often.

Was it often, or only occasionally?—Often.

How came you to be orderly officer?—I don't understand you.

I mean how came it that you were orderly officer?—You put the question in a curious way.

Question repeated.—In the performance of my duty. Any of the lieutenants would be orderly officer if it was his turn to be so.

Where was the orderly room at Portobello?—I don't know any room under that name. I don't think there was any room called the orderly room.

Where was the business of the regiment done?—In the office. I suppose you call that the orderly-room.

Where was the office?—The fourth door down from the right.

Who used to go to the orderly-room, or the office, as you call it?—The sergeant-major.

Did you go there when you wanted to apply for leave?—I applied for leave to the colonel.

There were several Roman Catholics in the regiment?—Yes.

And you took them to the church?—Yes.

Where was the church?—At Rathmines, or some such name.

Where is Rathmines?—Between Dublin and the barracks.

The Foreman of the Jury: The jury wish to know the duties of the orderly officers.

The Claimant: Seeing that the horses were properly cleaned, the stables properly cleaned, and everything carried on during the time of his office.

What was the time of his office?—From six to eight hours.

Did the cornets ever undertake this duty?—They might after being there for some time.

Did you do it as cornet?—Yes.

Is Rathmines a village?—It is part of the suburbs of Dublin.

Were you ever at the Curragh?—No.

Do you remember telling Mr. Gosford at Gravesend that you were stationed at the Curragh?—Certainly not.

That is quite untrue?—Yes, it is.

Do you remember any act of kindness which Captain, now General, Jones did for you?—No. You are not alluding to a certain place, and buying a horse?

No, I was not; but I shall be glad if you will tell me about it. What was it?—He went back with me to Killarney, and we bought a horse.

Have you seen General Jones since?—Yes, at the Law Institution.

Did you say anything to him there?—No; he didn't speak to me, and I didn't speak to him.

Do you remember a conversation with Stephen Shepherd?—I don't remember the name.

He was a corporal in the 6th Carabineers, and was invalided while you were with the regiment. He is now a superintendent of police.—I know who you mean.

In a conversation with him did you not say there was no such man as Jones in the regiment, and did he not say " Nonsense, I will show yon my discharge, which is signed by him?"—Considering that I wrote to General Jones eight months before that, and gave his name to my advisers, I consider that is a very pretty story.

If it lasts long enough you may see General Jones.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Don't make promises you can't fulfil.

The Solicitor-General: Well, from Dublin you went to Cahir?—Yes.

You remember the story of the chestnut horse which threw Clark, and your being kind to the widow?—I don't know what you mean by a story. It was a dark bay horse.

Did anything happen to you with the horse?—Nothing very serious.

Nothing that you remember?—I remember his shaking off his bridle, and galloping down the ranks.

That is mentioned in your affidavit; I don't ask you about it. Is your memory impressed about anything particular in Cahir?—Do you mean as to the town?

I mean, do you remember any uncommon sort of people?—Uncommon people? No.

I suppose it was very dull in Cahir?—Yes, it was. Some of the officers scarcely ever left the barracks.

Did you know anybody in Cahir?—Yes, a Mr. Sergeant, a Mr. Chaytor, and a Mr. Burke.

Do you remember anything being done by you at Mr. Sergeant's .—Are you alluding to the wrestling?

Yes; what happened about it?—I don't know that anything happened about it.

What was there done about the wrestling?—A man named O'Ryan wrestled with me.

Which got the best of it?—He did, I believe.

When was it?—In the evening.

Is he the man who made an affidavit for you?—Yes, I believe so. There is another brother named Andy.

Where was the chapel at Cahir?—Between the town and the barracks.

Did you ever stay in Dublin while you were at Cahir?—Probably I did for a day or two. I went there to get the steamer to England.

Do you recollect whether you were in Dublin for any express purpose?—Now that you remind me, I think I went there to pass the examination for my lieutenancy.

How long were you there?—I can't tell you. I had forgotten all about it until you asked me the question.

Do you remember any other special visit to Dublin?—No.

How long were you in Dublin when you were quartered there the second time?—Two or three months.

Did you go to the Castle then?—I believe I did.

Was it the same Lord-Lieutenant?—I don't remember.

Did you ever go to a drawing-room?—Perhaps a levee and a drawing-room mean one and the same thing to you.

I don't mean the same thing. Did you ever go to a drawing-room?—I can't say whether it was a drawing-room or levee.

Do you recollect anything happening which was much out of the common way? you mean anything of a serious nature?

I mean anything that would create an impression upon you, tragic or comic.—No, I don't.

I think you said you were at balls at the Castle. Do you recollect anything happening at a ball which produced an impression upon yon?—Serious?

I don't care whether serious or comic. Do you remember anything happening at the Lord-Lieutenant's on any of those occasions?—No.

Did anything happen after supper?—I don't remember.

Would you be surprised to find that, in a letter to your mother, you said something about a gentleman who, after supper, sat down in the drawing-room? Now, do you remember?—No.

Well, I'll read the letter for you. It is dated from Portobello Barracks, and you go on to say:—

A very unpleasant occurrence took place the other day at the Lord-Lieutenant's Drawing Room. A gentleman, after having finished his supper, went to sit in the large drawing-room on a chair in the third row, which is much above the other two rows. He was seen after a short time to turn pale, when quite of a sudden he vomited all he had taken at supper on three ladies who were sitting in front of him. It all fell on their hair, down their backs, and all over their gowns. It came down in such a quantity—you never saw such a sight in all your life. After the performance the gentleman was removed from the room, but what surprised everybody was the quantity that came oat of his stomach. The smell of that stuff will be on the ladies' hair for several months to come.

[The reading of the above caused roars of laughter in court.]

The Solicitor-General also stated that the letter enclosed a card from the chamberlain at Dublin Castle, requesting the presence of Mr. R. C. Tichborne at the Drawing Room, in the name of the Lord-Lieutenant and the Countess of Eglinton.

To the Claimant: I suppose you had forgotten that?—Yes.

The court then adjourned for luncheon. On resuming, the cross-examination was proceeded with.

The Solicitor-General: Where is Callan?—I don't remember. I am sure.

Were you ever there?—I can't say.

If you were you've forgotten it?—I don't remember the same.

Were you ever at Kilkenny?—Well, I know that Killarney is near Dublin; I have on recollection of being at Kilkenny. I might have confused the names.

What is the best of your recollection—that you were at Kilkenny or Killarney?—The place I mean is about 20 miles from Dublin.

What sort of a place is Killarney?—It is a village.

Is the place you speak of near a river?—I don't remember any river, but I know that it is on the Newbridge-road.

What sort of a place is it?—I can't remember it.

You have been at Waterford?—Yes.

What is the size of that place?—It is about 40, 50, or 100 times as big as Cahir. There is scarcely anything at Cahir.

Are there any buildings in Waterford that you recollect?—No, I think not.

Can you tell me anything about the neighbourhood—what great people lived there whom you knew?—I don't remember any; I was only there a month.

Is there any river at Waterford?—It is on the sea-coast.

You used to bathe there?—I don't recollect.

Is there any striking incident which you can remember which happened at Dublin when you were staying there?—Do you mean with regard to some one being injured?

No; but any incident at which any other living person was present?—Yes: there were lots of incidents.

Mention any one of them.—I remember finding my things put out under the window.

The Solicitor-General: I think one of your witnesses has proved that already?— Not at Dublin; Major Norbury came home with me and found the things out.

Can you remember anything at Cahir?—Not just at this moment, you are capsizing my brain so much.

In what room of Mr. Sergeant's house did the wrestling take place with O'Ryan?— In the drawing-room.

Whilst you were in Ireland did you correspond with any of your friends in England?—No doubt I did.

Who did you write to?—I don't remember.

Did you write to your father?—Yes, I wrote to him in France.

To Lady richborne?—Yes.

Any person in this country?—To Mr. Gosford and others, but I don't remember their names. No doubt I wrote to Mr. Henry Seymour.

Did you ever write to Sir Edward Doughty?—I don't remember, but the probability is that I did.

Or to your cousin, Miss Doughty?—I don't remember, but I am not certain.

Did you ever receive letters from her whilst you were there?—I have no recollection.

Did you have any letters from Lady or Sir Edward Doughty?—Not from Sir Edward, I don't think. I might have had letters from Lady Doughty. I have no recollection of any particular letter.

Did you hear from Mr. Henry Seymour?—Yes, on several occasions.

From Alfred?—I can't say whether I did or not.

From any other members of your family—Mr. Seymour, Mrs. Robert Tichborne, or the Greenwoods?—I can't say.

Did you write to them?—I don't remember.

Did you write frequently to Gosford?—Yes.

And he also wrote frequently to you?—Yes.

Have you got any of the letters that Mr. Gosford wrote to you?—I think not.

What has become of them?—I destroyed them, I think, before I went away.

Have you got any other letters that were written to you whilst you were in Ireland?—I don't think I have.

Did you know a lady, Teresa Dease?—I believe I knew a lady in Dublin of the name of Dease or Reece, but I don't think she was a lady of title. I remember the name very well. I knew a gentleman also of that name.

Who was the lady you knew? Was she Lady Teresa's daughter?—I don't remember.

Had she any children?—I have no recollection of her except the name.

Did you know her son?—I don't remember.

Did you know a Captain Southwell?—No; I can't say, there were so many captains there.

Do you remember Emily and Johnny, near relations, who used to write to you in 1849?—Emily, I should think, would be Mrs. Bennett.

And who would Johnny be?—It is hard to say. I don't know to whom you are alluding.

You knew several people named Johnny?—Not amongst my relations.

What is " Le Misanthrope?" I see that a lady writes to yon thus: " I have just received 'Le Misanthrope,' and for your sake I shall share the feelings of Philante rather than Alceste." You don't recollect reading the " Misanthrope" yourself?—No.

What is it—a book, or what?—It is a French work, I should think.

What is the meaning of " sharing the feelings of Philante rather than Alceste"?—They were two characters in the book. I should think.

Who is Lady Neave?—I don't know her.

Did you study the French horn under a master?—Yes.

Who was he?—A man named Powell, at Alresford.

Had you a master in London?—I might have, but I don't remember his name.

Were you present at the funeral of Mr. Robert Tichborne?—Yes.

What bishop attended?—Bishop Grant.

Was he the Roman Catholic Bishop of Southwark?—He might be, but I can't say.

Who was Miss Hamilton?—A governess, I think.

Whom Miss Brain succeeded?—I can't say.

But Miss Brain said so.—I did not hear her say that.

The Solicitor-General asked for that lady's evidence to be referred to, and it was found that Miss Brain had not made such a statement.

The Solicitor-General: Do you know anything of Sir Hyde Parker and General Scott? Did you ever see them at Tichborne?—I don't remember.

What were they? Were they friends of the Tichborne family?—I think they were both named in the settlements. I am certain the name of Parker is mentioned, but was he Sir Ilyde Parker then? I was asked when I went down if I knew the Duke of Cambridge, and I said I did not; but when they mentioned Prince George I knew immediately. This may be a similar case, and I may not know Mr. Parker by that name.

Did you know Captain Christie?—Yes; he was a friend of my uncle Edward, and lived at Southampton. He had something to do, I think, with her Majesty's yacht.

Who were Reginald and Neald Talbot? Did you know them?—Yes.

Which of the Talbots were they?—They lived on the borders of Dorsetshire and Devonshire.

Were they young men in 1850?—Yes.

Did you know much of them?—No.

Did you know Major Stapleton?—I know the name very well.

Who was Ignatius Stapleton?—The name is familiar, but I cannot recollect the person of whom you speak.

Who was Ignatius Macdonald?—The son of Colonel Macdonald, a connection of the family, and a very great friend of Sir Edward's.

What was his connection with the family?—Bless me, I cannot go through all the pedigrees; but, if I remember rightly, he married a niece of Lady Doughty's.

Who was Mr. Codrington?—Do you mean Sir William Codrington, the gentleman over there (on the bench)? I have met a Mr. Codrington, but I can't say whether it is the same gentleman.

Do you recollect a Mr. Codrington—not Sir William, certainly—who was seized with paralysis in his arms and legs?—No, but I am quite certain I have met a Mr. Codrington, but I cannot say where it was.

During the time you were in Ireland was anything done as to the re-settlement of the estates?—Yes, there was.

Who acted for you in that matter?—Mr. Hopkins acted for me and my father too.

Have you copies of any correspondence between yourself and Messrs. Slaughter and Cullington, of Mansfield-steet, during the time you were in Ireland?—I have seen them, but cannot tell where they are now. I remember seeing them three or four years ago. The correspondence you are speaking of was correspondence about my will, which was the only correspondence I remember having with Mr. Slaughter.

The Solicitor-General: I will read a letter or two on that subject.

The Claimant: But they had nothing to do with the deed of 1850; they related to my will.

The Solicitor-General then read a letter from the claimant to Mr. Slaughter, stating, that it was his intention to make some arrangement with regard to his property before he went to India, he should like to know to what extent he was entitled to dispose of the estates by will, and that he wished his absence to be kept as secret as possible. Mr. Slaughter replied, giving the particulars in the event of the claimant surviving his father. The estates were liable to many encumbrances at the time. There were certain sums to be paid on Sir Roger taking possession of them, but otherwise they were at his own absolute disposal by will. The Upton estate was subject to a mortgage debt of,£13,700.

The Claimant: You have corroborated exactly what I have said. The correspondence had nothing to do with the settlement, hut with my will. I have seen the will since at Doctors Commons. They sat on one side of a table and I the other, whilst they tested me as to the contents and the signature. I have never seen a copy of it, and I don't think I ever read a line of it.

There was a copy at Mr. Holmes's?—Yes; which I suppose he had there for his own information, but I did not see it myself. I knew the general purport of it. The latter did not mention a hundredth part of the will, considering that I was more than twelve months about it.

What was the general object of the will—the general purport of it I mean?—The general object was to get rid of the £100,000 on the Tichborne estate; that is to say, I formed by the will a kind of reserve or accumulation fund, by entailing my father. (A laugh.) Well, that might not be the proper word.

I didn't laugh; but now was it?—by arranging that my father should have £8,000 out of the Doughty estates, and the remainder to go to the accumulation fund to pay off the Tichborne liability. It was so arranged in the will that, instead of having the whole of the income of the property, he was to be limited to £8,000 a year.

That was in case you died?—Yes.

That was the main object of the will?—The main object was to clear off the estate.

What was to become of the estates when cleared? Who were the objects of your bounty?—In the event of my brother dying without children, James Dormer was to have the Tichborne estates, and the Doughty estates were to go to Mrs. Ratcliffe and her children.

Who was Dormer?—He was the eldest son of the second daughter of Sir James Tichborne. I remember that because I got into trouble with my aunt, Mrs. Nangles, about it.

In what way?—Well, she thought I ought to have made my will in favour of her son. and she never forgave me, not even to this day.

Where did you meet her?—One day at Mr. Hopkins's house. She had a row with me, because I would not tell her what was in the will, or because I would not make it in favour of her son. If she had not had an ill-feeling against me she would never have allowed herself to act in the way she did on my return.

After the words at Mr. Hopkins's, did Mrs. Nangles go away?—Yes; and now I suppose you want to know where she went to? (Laughter.)

Did you ever make friends with her again?—There was always a little adverse feeling between us afterwards.

Did you ever see her afterwards at Mr. Hopkins's office?—Yes, I believe I did.

When did it happen about the words?—About six or seven months before I went away.

Who were present?—Mr. and Mrs. Hopkins were there.

What did she say?—I have told you. She tried to persuade me to make a will before I went away. I can't remember the whole of the conversation, which lasted a quarter ofan hour or twenty minutes.

You refused to make a will, then?—Yes.

Did you ever see her again?—Once, I think, in London.

Did you make it up with her?—To tell you the truth, I never was on good terms with her, but I did not openly show it.

How long before you went away was the last time you saw her? Was it six or seven months?—I can't remember precisely, but I think it was two or three months.

Did you part affectionately or coldly?—She knew I had no very great love for her at any time.

With whom did you leave the will?—With Mr. Slaughter.

And had you any farther correspondence about the will after you had left it with him?—Yes, I believe I had.

When?—I can't remember the time exactly.

Did you correspond with him directly?—I can't say. It was by writing; but I am under the impression that I saw him two or three times afterwards.

Did you make any codicils to the will?—I don't remember.

Or any alterations?—After it was signed, do you mean?

Yes.—I don't remember.

Did you contemplate making any?—I believe that something was said afterwards. You read a letter in court the other day.

Well, was that the only alteration you contemplated? I think you must have mistook some other letter that I read.—I am confident you read a letter which alluded to it. It had reference to my being sorry for something I had not put in, or something that I had omitted.

But after the will was signed did you contemplate any change in it by bringing some one in, or cutting some one out?—I can't remember. You are referring, I suppose, to the Nangles.

Did you contemplate anything, then, with regard to them?—I can't remember.

What made you say the Nangles?—Because it came into my head that something might have been said about them.

Do you recollect anything passing about the subject of a material alteration in the will—anything of which you spoke to Mr. Slaughter?—Yes, I think I saw him on the subject of what Mrs. Nancies had said to me.

Had you any communication with Mr. Gosford as to any limitations of the will?— I have no recollection of it.

Were the Nangles, in any shape, objects of your bounty?—No, I think not. I believe I said something to Mr. Slaughter about them, but what was proposed was never executed.

Or any other of your family or connexion? Was anything written about any of them?—Certainly not after I left England.

Or before?—It is difficult to tax ray memory with all this.

Did you ever communicate with Mr. Slaughter or Mr. Gosford after you left England with regard to any alteration in your will?—What would have been the good of it if I did? I could not have signed it.

Are you certain about it?—No; I will not swear. It is unfair that you should cross-examine me from the documents which you have in your possession, and which you have no right to.

They are documents or letters which were used in Chancery.—And which I was ordered by a judge to give up, but not for this case.

Will you swear you did not write about alterations in the will after you left England?—I have no remembrance of writing anything about it afterwards.

Or before you left England?—Now you are going back again. How can I remember all about it? You have the letters there.

Was Everard Arundell in the will at all before or after it was signed?—To the best of my belief, he was not.

Should you be surprised to find that his name was in the will; that yon, or rather Sir Roger, wanted very much to have it struck out, and that you wrote to Mr. Slaughter on tlio subject?—I am not surpiised at anything you say. I can't recollect everything that was in the will.

The Solicitor-General then read a letter from Sir Roger Tichhorne, addressed to Mr. Gosford, in March, 1854, and which the claimant admitted to he in his handwriting. It was headed " Private and confidential," and was to the following effect:—

My Dear Sir,—In reply to your letter which I found waiting for me at Monte Video, I think I might refer you to what I wrote to Mr. Slaughter in London, in June, 1852—so far, at least, as Everard Arundell is concerned. As he is going to become a novitiate, and it might be a Jesuit, and as there might be no male issue from me or my brother, I don't think it would be advisable to leave him such power as is named in my will, and I ask to have his name scratched out of it, and not to have any one else named in his place. There is another thing, and that is, as I and mother never could agree, it would be advisable, if I should die during my travels, to insure her so much per annum and some place to reside in except Tichborne, as I could not put up with her character.

Had you forgotten that letter?—Yes; but I did not understand at first how it was I came to write from Buenos Ayres.

You used to write to Lady Tichborne about your state of health?—Yes.

She was always anxious to hear about it?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General: There are several letters about the state of Sir Roger's health at different times, which I wish to read now, and they will close the case for the day. They were letters deposited in Chanoery in " Tichborne v. Castro":—

August 21, 1849.

My dear Mother,—I have just received your letter, and sorry to see you are making yourself so unhappy about Alfred. The last accounts I received from him were very good, and he appears to be perfectly well at present. I beg you will calm yourself now that he is better. I shall write to you in a few days. I am sorry not to have the pleasure of seeing you, but at present I have to prepare myself to pass the examination. I shall come and see you before I join the regiment.

May 31, 1859.

My dear Mother,—Many thanks for your letter, which I had the pleasure of receiving the day before yesterday. I do not want you to make yourself unhappy about me. I enjoy very good health. I am sorry that Dr. Brown before he wrote did not take the trouble to get better information. I have had the opinion of the very best doctors in Dublin, and they all tell me there was nothing whatever the matter with me, &c.

April 29, 1867.

My dear Mama,—I have sent Carter to London, so he will call and leave you this. I have sent two of the horses to be sold, my reason for so doing is that I may pay Cubitt bill. The sheriff's officers are down here, and on Saturday night they thought the house and furniture belong to me. I sent for Mr. Holmes, and they go away when he came. They saw the receipt was in your name. The parties holding the bills have promised not to molest me. . . I should not like to have them seized in London. You see, my dear mama, if I hire horses they won't take them away. I hope you are better than you were. I am a great deal better now it busted.

Then there is " Love from little Agnes." and so on.

The Claimaint: I must appeal to your lordship whether you think it is right he should read those letters.

The Chief-Justice: I cannot see any alternative.

The Claimant: But they don't bear upon the case a bit.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The Solicitor-General, I think, Sir Roger, has a perfect right to read them.

The Chief-Justice: Your counsel is here; and I am sure lie will take care that nothing is read that cannot legally he put in evidence. The Solicitor-General is acting very fairly, and is following out a principle that is allowed in all courts of justice.

The Solicitor-General: The last letter I will read is to this effect:—

Jan. 29, 1868.

My dear Mama,—We came from Colchester to-day. I was very fortunate in getting four affidavits this morning before we left. These are made by men of the 6th Dragoon Guards. The poor fellows are very glad to see me. They have made their affidavits very strong. After I had done that, I had a look round Colchester and Castle. It seems to be a very clean town, and I was very much amused by what I had seen. I can't say anything about Yarmouth, because it was dark when I arrived, and I can't say whether the gentleman I am going to see is here. I have just sent Mr. Rous out to get me a pill, for I have not been quite well since I left Croydon. I hope, my dear mama, you are better, &c.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY.—TUESDAY, JUNE 20.

TWENTY-SIXTH DAY OF TRIAL.

sIn the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Before the commencement of the proceedings.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, addressing the learned judge, said: In consequence of the length of time this case has already taken, and the probable length of time which will elapse before any conclusion can be arrived at, my learned friends at the other side and myself have thought it right to meet for the purpose of ascertaining, as far as we could, the extent of its duration, and determining upon the best course to be adopted. I think it is not generally understood that your lordship, by Act of Parliament, has no power of sitting beyond the 10th of August, and equally no power of renewing yours sittings until the 2nd or 3rd of November. Under these circumstances the question naturally arises whether, before the 10th of August, the plaintiff's case could be concluded; and at the commencement of the inquiry my learned friend and myself, knowing that an adjournment would be absolutely necessary, hoped that our case would be finished, and my learned friend enabled to make his speech for the defence by that time. We, however, find that that is perfectly impossible. The plaintiff stated to your lordship that there were 117 witnesses still to be examined. That is only a trifling exaggeration, as there are certainly nearly 100 whom the exigencies of the case will require that you should examine. Many of them, no doubt, will be short witnesses; but I must inform your lordship that the examination in chief of several of them will take up a considerable time. In addition to these, there will be a mass of evidence collected by the Australian commission, which it will be my duty to lay before the court and the jury. There is another matter of which people seem to have lost sight, namely, the possibility of a case requiring rebutting evidence. Under these circumstances, my friends and myself have consulted together, and we have an humble application to make to your lordship, and that is that, instead of continuing the hearing of the case till the 10th of August, you would allow an adjournment about the 10th of July, which would be infinitely more convenient to all of us, and will neither militate against the cause of justice nor impede the subsequent inquiry. Your lordship will consider it is an application on behalf of counsel, and in no way caused by any wish on the part of your lordship in the matter. Indeed, I may remark that your lordship expressed your willingness to sit to the last moment. We all of us sincerely hope that such a course being taken will not add to those labours which the jury have already had to undertake, or to those which I am afraid they must prospectively look to. Your lordship understands that I make these observations with the concurrence of my learned friend, and after consultation with him.

The Solicitor-General: As my learned friend represents the plaintiff, I think it was his duty, and indeed, his proper office, to take the initiative in making the application to your lordship. I concur with my learned friend in thinking that if by sitting to the 10th of August his case could be finished, and I could have my " say," it would be the fairest thing, and, if there had been any reasonable prospect of that, I should not have joined in the application; but I see no reasonable prospect of it, and, under the circumstances, I think it would be far the most convenient arrangement to make a break in the case about the 10th of July. We leave the matter in your lordship's hands, only desiring that everybody should understand that this application comes from us, and upon the consideration of the general convenience of the case, without forgetting the unequalled aud unparalleled labours the jury have to undergo; and also recollecting that so far as your lordship is concerned it must be a matter of indifference whether the adjournment took place now or the 10th of August, because you must work up to that time, and you have very heavy duties to perform at the Old Bailey before going on circuit.

The Chief-Justice: I have been extremely desirous from the commencement of the case to afford every facility in my power for having this case tried, and tried continuously. Applications were made to me last autumn, and I appointed a time for the hearing then, but owing to the unfortunate events in Paris it was necessary to postpone the trial. I again fixed another time, but on the application of the parties I was obliged to agree to another postponement. From the best information I could obtain from both sides it was supposed the trial would last six or seven weeks, and upon that understanding I selected the time. Now, however, it turns out that our expectations have not been realised, and that instead of six or seven weeks, nearly twelve, or possibly more, will be required. I have been extremely anxious that the case should proceed, and I am still prepared, if I could obtain the consent of the Home Secretary for some person to discharge my duties on circuit, to sit to the 10th of August. I have very little doubt that the Home Secretary would absolve me from circuit duty upon a representation being made to him that this case could be concluded within that time. Now, this application is made to me on the part of the plaintiff, and concurred in by the defendant, and the only question is whether 1 am to compel the parties to sit till the 10th of August. At this moment I am not in a position to do so. If both parties represent to me that it would be more convenient, under all the circumstances, that an adjournment should take place in the second week in July, instead of in the second week in August, I do not feel myself disposed to compel them to proceed, seeing that there is no probability of the case being: concluded before the date up to which we can sit.

The Foreman: The jury are content to leave the matter in your lordship's hands, merely asking to what time the Court will he adjourned. I may say that one of our number has an important engagement in Scotland on the 3rd of November.

The Chief-Justice: Every consideration ought to be shown for a gentleman in the unfortunate position of being a member of this jury.

After some conversation it was arranged that the adjournment should be to the 7th of November.

Mr. Radcliffe here appeared near the solicitors' table, and expressed a desire to address his lordship.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Mr. Radcliffe will pardon me. I want to act in perfect fairness and justice to everybody, but I must remind him that any observations from him may invite observation from me.

The Chief-Justice: Mr. Radcliffe is a witness in the case, is he not?

Mr. Radcliffe: It is as an injured party I wish to address your lordship.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We won't talk about that now.

Mr. Radcliffe (warmly): Yes, we will talk.

The Chief-Justice: I cannot listen to any observation except from a party in the cause or from counsel, because, if a witness were at liberty to address me, it would invite observations from the other side; and, besides, every witness in the case might address me.

Mr. Radcliffe then resumed his seat, by the side of his wife.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was then continued: When you were in Ireland in the army there what was your income?—About £500 a year.

From what sources did that come?—It came from the estate.

How was it paid?—It was paid into Cox's Bank.

Who paid it?—My uncle.

Do you mean Sir Edward Doughty?—Yes.

Was the £500 a year exclusive of your pay?—Yes.

Who were your bankers at the time you were in Ireland?—Cox and Co.

How did you get money in Ireland? By drafts on Cox?—No; by Kane, the army agent.

Was the money paid by Cox to Kane, or how—Yes, I believe he used to draft it over. Cox used to draft my pay over.

When you left Ireland you came, as we know, to Canterbury. When you were retired from the army do you remember making the acquaintance of a clergyman?—Do you mean a clergyman of the Church of Rome?

Yes.—I don't remember.

Did you know a gentleman named Gueder?—Yes. He was a priest. I last saw him at Winchester or Southampton.

Did you see much of him?—Not very much.

You were not on very intimate relations?—I knew him very well.

Did you see him constantly or not?—I don't think I saw him constantly.

Where did you form his acquaintance?—I don't remember.

Do you remember when you made his acquaintance?—No.

Nor how?—No.

Can you tell me how long you knew him.?—No; to the best of my recollection about two or three months.

When did you last see Sir Edward Doughty before you went away?—It was in June, July, or August in the previous year.

When did you last see Lady Doughty?—The same time, I think.

What was the last place in England belonging to any relation of yours which you visited before you went away?—Brookwood, I believe.

Did you sleep there?—I think not. I can't remember, at this distance of time.

What was the last place belonging to a relative at which you slept before you went away?—How can you expect me to remember?

Tell me if you can remember, and I'll pass on.—I believe it was Upton.

What was the place that you started from to leave England?—I don't understand the question.

From what place did you go to Southampton to start?—I went from London to Winchester, from Winchester to Brookwood, back again to Winchester, and from there to Southampton.

Where did you live in London?—St. James s-place.

Did you execute any deeds or do any final acts of business there at all?—I believe there was something of the kind.

Something of what kind?—Something about money matters with Henry Seymour. I don't know about deeds.

Could you tell me what the business was?—No.

Question repeated.—It was in connection with money matters.

Do you mean raising money?—I think not.

Can't you tell the last act of business you did in this country?—You're putting it in another form. That might not imply the last.

Did you do any other act of business after that at St. James's-place?—No, I think not.

Then, you see, I was not wrong in saying the last act of business. Can't you remember what it was?—No, I don't remember. I had to pay Henry Seymour some money—£300 and odd, I think.

Was that the act of business you performed while you were residing in St. James's-place?—To the best of my recollection it was.

Was there anything else that you remember?—There were so many acts of business that I cannot remember them.

I mean acts of business connected with money and your property. At that time, you know, you were your father's heir-apparent and your uncle's heir-presumptive?— No, I don't remember.

Do you recollect signing any important document in St. James's Place?—No.

Do you remember signing any particular document in any particular and unusual room in St. James's Place?—I don't remember any particular and unusual room.

What money did you start with?—Do you mean in ready cash?

First of all, what was your income?—£500.

You had a letter of credit, you said?—Yes.

For how much?—£2,000.

To whom?—Howth and Co.

Who was your banker?—Glyn.

What had you there to draw from?—Really, I can't say what the amount was.

Give it to me roughly. — I think I took about £200 away with me.

And what did you leave to your credit at Glyn's?—I don't rememoer. I don't think I left anything.

Is that your impression?—Not much, anyhow.

How long had Glyn been your banker?—It is difficult to answer. Not very long.

What do you mean by " not very long?"—days, months, weeks, or years?—Months, I believe. You can't expect me to remember. About two months before I started.

And about what amount was standing to your credit when you left—I can't say.

Is it your impression there was very little after you took the £200?—Yes.

Would you be surprised to find that there was between £800 and £900?—Do you mean that I left behind me?

Yes.—No, there was not. I sent over for money from Havre after that.

For what purpose?—I can't tell you.

Did you see your pass-book at Glyn's before you went away?—I can't tell.

Do you remember whether you took it with you?—No.

When the Bella was lost, do you know how much you had drawn? Had you drawn much of Howth's letter of credit?—I had drawn the whole of it, I think.

When you landed in Australia in the Osprey, what resources had you in this country to draw upon, in round numbers?—Yes, but I find you take advantage of me in these round numbers. (Laughter.)

Well, if you give me the shillings and pence, so much the better. No, I can't do that. There was another letter of credit on Coutts's for £1,000, and 1 had drawn £200 of it.

How much, could you have drawn when you arrived at Melbourne?—£1,000.

How much at Glyn's?—I'm speaking of the whole.

Do you mean that the £1,000 included the balance at the bankers', and the remainder of the letter of credit?—Yes.

You were aware of the death of Sir Edward Doughty?—Yes.

How much did that add to your income?—£300 or £400.

Do you, mean that by putting all your resources together when you landed at Melbourne you could have drawn for £1000?—Yes.

And no more?—I didn't say that.

What was the extent of your resources when you landed at Melbourne?—It is impossible for me to say. A good deal more than £1000, at any rate.

What do you mean by a good deal more"? Do you mean several hundreds?—Yes. £700 or £800?—Yes.

Does that express the whole? Can't you tell me when you landed in Melbourne what was the extent of the resources in this country upon which you could draw?—I can't exactly say—about £1600 or £1700, inclusive of the letter of credit on Coutts'.

I want to know, if you had drawn every shilling from all sources, how much could you have obtained?—I don't know how I can answer the question. I can't say now how much I could raise.

You left this country under the name of Roger Tichborne, and you reappeared in Australia under the name of Thomas Castro?—Yes.

How long did you go under the name of Tichborne?—Till the time of my arrival in Australia.

Did you ever go by any name except those two?—I have at times taken other names.

What other names have you taken?—I shoot under another name at the Gun Club.

I mean between the time you left England and when you returned in 1866?—I went under the name of Morgan for about two months.

When?—In what year, yon mean?

Yes. When and where?—It was after I left the Tumut township.

Had you any Christian name, or did you go under the name of Morgan alone?—I was called " Tom." I suppose you know all about it, and I needn't tell you. (A laugh )

Did you ever go by any other name than Tichborne, Castro, and Morgan?—Not during that time. You must understand that in the colony they all go by nicknames—" Tom," " Bob," and so on.

You swore an affidavit on the 1st June, 1868, and it was filed in Chancery in the suit of Tichborne and Castro. In the 12th paragraph you swear that before you left Southampton in 1853 you had a daguerreotype photograph of yourself taken; that it was slightly coloured, and that you were in a boating costume, with check necktie and cap. Is that (produced) a daguerreotype photograph of yourself, taken at Southampton in the latter part of the year 1852?—I was under the impression when I first saw it that it was, because I had one taken there.

It is marked T 12. Is that the one as to which you swore?—Yes, I believe it is but do you call that (pointing to the daguerreotype) a cap?

Don't ask me questions. Is that the same?—I presume it is.

Where did you get this before you deposited it in Chancery?—I don't remember.

Whose property was it?—I suppose I got it from my mother.

You have no doubt about that?—I can't have any doubt about it.

Have the goodness to tell me, as near as you can, the dates and places at which you have met Arthur Orton?—I think it was in the latter end of 1855 I first met him.

Where?—At Boysdale.

How long did you know him then?—On that occasion?

Yes.—Three days.

When was the next?—About six months after.

Still in 1855?—No, I should think about the beginning of 1856.

Where?—In Boysdale again.

For how long?—Three weeks.

On those occasions what name did he bear?—Arthur Orton.

When next did you meet him?—In about a fortnight after.

Where?—At Dargle.

For how long?—I think I stayed three or four days with him.

What name had he then?—Orton.

When did you see him next?—I met him at Bruthen.

How long did you stay with him at Bruthen?—Only a couple of days.

Was he then going under the name of Arthur Orton?—Yes.

Where were you next in company with him?—I went back to Dargle with him.I met him off and on for about eighteen months.

That would be in 1855, 1856, and getting into 1857?—It was fully in 1857.

When did you next meet him?—I think in 1858.

Where was that?—In a little place called Stratford-upon-Avon.

What part of Australia is that in?—Gipsland.

How long were you in his company then?—I think he was then constantly with me up to the latter end of 1859.

At or near Stratford-upon-Avon?—No; crossing the country.

Where did you and he cross the country to?—To Beechworth.

Still in Gipsland?—No; that is across the mountains.

In what country?—Victoria.

Has the district any name?—Yes; the Ovens.

Where did he meet you next?—He only left my company for a short time during the whole time.

Where did you meet him after the end of 1859?—On the Murrumbidjee.

well, that is a large river; what part of it?—At Boree.

When was that?—In the latter end of 1861 or the beginning of 1862.

Then, from the end of 1859 to the end of 1861 or the beginning of 1862, you did not see him?—No.

Were you at Reedy Creek or the Flat Diggings in 1859?—No.

And in 1860 did you go from Reedy Creek to Deniliquin in that colony, and at Deniliquin did you change your name, or did you appear there for the first time as Thomas Castro, you being Arthur Orton up to that time?—Certainly not. I was Thomas Castro from the very first.

But did you from 1860 till you returned to England in 1866 call yourself Thomas Castro?—I didn't call myself anything else.

Would you be surprised to find that Roger Charles Tichborne was never at Mellipilla in his life?—'Tis rather cool for you to tell me so. (Laughter.)

Would you be surprised to find it is so?—I am not surprised to hear you say so.. (Laughter.)

Would you be surprised that it is a fact?—Certainly.

Would you be surprised to find that two people to whom you yourself sent messages at Mellipilla had left Mellipilla two years before Roger Tichborne left England?—It isn't true.

Have you read the Chili evidence?—Part of it.

You haven't had the curiosity to read it all?—I read quite sufficient to know that your agent was there two years to tell them what to say. (Laughter.) Your very counsel was out there trying to bribe them.

Yes, we heard that before. It is quite true other things may be proved.—Quite so; but it is better to prove them than assert them.

Were the affidavits in which you sent out the correspondence between yourself and Don Tomas Castro used for the purpose of raising money?—Pon my word, that is a. funny question to put to me.

Well, I should like to know were they?—Put the question in another form.

Were they used to your knowledge for the purpose of raising money?—I think not.

Will you swear not?—I don't know about swearing. You put it in such away. If you put the question this way, " Were the affidavits sworn for the purpose of raising money?" I'll say, certainly not.

My question is a simple one. Were they used to your knowledge for the purpose of raising money?—I cannot say what my friends may have done. I don't usually arrange for money matters myself. Probably my friends may have shown those affidavits.

Question repeated.—I don't remember their being used on any particular occasion.

Were they used in the endeavour to raise money?—I should think the probability would he they were shown.

Do you know that they were submitted to Mr. Pad wick, of Hill-street, Berkeley-square, for the purpose of raising money from him?—I was with Mr. Padwick myself.

That is very likely; but do you know they were submitted to him for the purpose of raising money?—They were never submitted to him to my knowledge.

What is your belief in the matter?—I don't know who could have done it. I was introduced to Mr. Padwick by Mr. Guilford Onslow.

You don't know whether Mr. Holmes or anybody else submitted the affidavits?— Oh, yes, my memory was referring to about three months ago. Mr. Holmes endeavoured to get money from Mr. Padwick some three or four years ago, I was thinking of my own meeting with Mr. Padwick.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

25, Poultry, London, August 28, 1867.

Don Tomas Castro,—Dear Sir,—I suppose I am about the last person in the world that you would expect to receive a letter from, but, my dear friend, you see we know not what we have to do in this world. The fact is, I have only just returned to England—that is to say, last December—and I neglected to write to my friends for some years. I have grown very stout—as nearly so as Ramond O'soga. I found when I arrived in England my property was and is now for the present in possession of my relatives, who dispute my titles. I am very happy to say my mother is still alive, and I have also many friends, who likewise do all they can to assist me: but still all those beautiful estates that I used to tell you of are kept from me until I can prove I am the same person I was thirteen years ago. Please remember me to Don Juan Harley, the English doctor, and to Clara and Jesus. My respects to Donna Natila Salmento—or, as I used to teach you to call her, Mrs. Castro. Please remember me also to Don Raymond Alcaldi, Donna Henton, and my old companion, as I used to call him, Senivota Matilda, and also to Jocé Marie Verengel and his brother. Would you, my dear friend, show this letter to them, and ask them all to write a few lines to me, and also, if not too much trouble, a few lines to my solicitor, Mr. John Holmes, 25, Poultry, London? It is very hard for me, my dear friend, to be kept out of my estates, so I must therefore beg of you to help me all you can. Really I was forgetting one old friend altogether. I know Mr. Toro Don Jose, your wife's sister's husband, of Concumed; and another strange thing I have to tell you, and 1 have no doubt you will say I took a great liberty on myself—that is to say, that I took and made use of your name, and was only known in Australia by the name of Thomas Castro for the thirteen years I was there. I also said t belonged to Chili, they might have known better than that. I can assure you, my dear friend, I did not disgrace your name either in feats of horsemanship while there. I hope, my dear friend, you will give my agent all the information you can when he calls, and do not forget to send me a few lines by return of mail; and, if possible, see Don Carlos Ourselmo, of Valparaiso, as soon as you can. He will explain to you anything you do not understand. Hoping, my dear friend, your wife, friends, and self are quite well, I remain, truly yours,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

On the 18th of December, 1867, you received by post from Pedro à Castro, the son of the said Don Thomas Castro, a reply in Spanish, of which the following is a copy:—

Sir R. C. D. Tichborne, London.

Melipilla, Oct. 29,1867.

My dear Sir.—I acknowledge receipt of your esteemed letter, dated 28th August of this year, in the stead of my father, Don Tomas Castro, who has, since you left Chili, unfortunately lost his reason, and is now in the mad-house at Santiago. My mother, Donna Natilia Sarmiento de Castro—Mrs. Castro as you used to call her—is dead since fourteen months ago. My godfather, Don Ramou Ozocar, whom you called Osoga, and Don Ramon Alcade—these three persons died a natural death. However, Donna Maria Lagoo, widow of my godfather referred to, has recollection of you. I have shown your letter to Don Juan Harley, the English doctor, and to his wife, Donna Clara Norees. The former does not retain recollection of you. It is true that by effects of intern perance he has lost his memory. The latter does and is ready to make declaration. Donna Jesus Norees, sister of Donna Clara, is dead. Don Jose Maria Berenguel is not called so. He is Don Francisco Berenguel, He is established in Santiago, and Don Jose Miguel Valdivicso, to whom you gave the name of brother of that person, is at this present time Regidore (Alderman) of the Municipality of Melipilla. Immediately on his reading your letter he brought to mind who you were, and about your stay in this town, &c., &c., feeling a lively pleasure in knowing of you. Also is established in Santiago your friend Don Jose Maria Toro, Who you call Mr. Toro. Don Pedro Pablo, his brother, still resides at Concamen. Donna Francisco Ahumada, mother of the Ozoores, preserves a curl of your hair. I bring this to your recollection in case it might be of any advantage to you. Not being able to go personally to Valparaiso, for various circumstances, I wrote to Don Carlos Ourselmo, telling him that, in default of my father, I am ready to furnish the data that you ask of my said father. I ought t inform you that the opposition, through the channel of Don Cervero Barra, have gone about gathering data of your stay in this town. He has not chosen to give the name of the English firm in Valparaiso by whom he is commissioned. I enclose you a copy of my portrait. I hope you will send me yours for a remembrance of those friends who you left in these parts. To this end I salute you as your

PEDRO A. CASTRO.

The Claimant: There are names mentioned there which I never mentioned at all.

The Chief-Justice (to the Solicitor-General): With reference to Mr. Ratcliffe's appearance in court, I think it right to state that if he has anything to say he should communicate it to you. I can very well understand that Brother Ballantine would seriously object to a witness in the case making any statement which is not on oath, and with reference to the present state of the case it makes no difference, as regards the matter to which Mr. Radcliffe, I presume, refers, whether the adjournment takes place in July or August. He has no right at this time to make any statement, whether on oath or not.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The whole of this case is full of the gravest accusations against a variety of people, and it will come to its end when the people make their statements at the proper time.

The Solicitor-General: All that Mr. Ratcliffe is desirous to do is to prevent the postponement.

The Chief-Justice: It makes no difference.

The Solicitor-General: Anybody might feel that Mr. Ratcliffe seemed to be anxious to make that statement.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I assure your lordship very seriously that he is not the only person in this case who objects to an adjournment. In the nature of things it cannot be avoided.

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the reassembling of the court the cross-examination of the claimant was further proceeded with.

The Solicitor-General read the following letter, which had been translated from the Spanish:—

London, 25, Poultry, E.C., 1st Jan., 1868.

My esteemed Don Pedro—On the 18th of last month I received your esteemed letter of the 29th Oct. last, and regret exceedingly to hear of the unhappy malady of your father, and of the death of your poor mother. I did not remember you when I wrote the letter to your father, but now I remember you very well—as well as your brother, Don Tomas, and your sister, Dora Natalia. I will write you a long letter by next steamer, and will have a photographic portrait taken of me to send to you. My friend, I wish you to beg Dona Francisca Ahumada to send me a small portion of the lock of my hair which she has kept—not to send all of it, but only a small portion Be good enough to remember me to all my friends. I am extremely engaged with the matters of my suit but I am sure of triumph, and I remain your affectionate friend,

Sor Don Pedro à Castro, Melipilla, Chili.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Did you ever suggest to any one that it was not your hair?—Yes; I told Mr. Spofforth and Mr. Baigent.

After the Chilian commission?—Yes.

Did you ever suggest a doubt about it before?—I don't see how I could, because I was not certain about it.

Did not Mr. Holmes compare the hair with yours?—Yes, he did.

Before he wrote the letter in May, 1868?—Yes, I believe he did.

Did he not say that the lock of hair was of considerable importance, because it was identically the same as your own:—I believe he did.

Did he take off a piece of your hair to compare it"?—No; I think not.

Did you compare it in the glass?—I dare say we did.

Do you mean to say that before you wrote that letter you did not take the trouble to see whether that hair was like your own?—I don't believe I did.

Now just look at it yourself. (The lock of hair sent by the Chilian commission was handed to the claimant.) Now, in your judgment, is not that like your hair now?—No; I think not; it's finer hair than mine.

But did you think it was like yours when the letter was written?—I don t think I took any notice of it.

Did you not say it was not like your hair in colour at the present moment?—I don't know what you are talking about. You have got me into confusion somewhere.

You do yourself a great injustice by saying you are confused. Did you or did you not form any judgment on its being like your then hair?—I can't say.

What made you write to say the Senora had done you a great service?—Because Mr. Holmes told me.

What great service do you suppose she had done you?—By sending me the hair, I suppose. I don't know, however, that she had done me any great service. The letters were more or less other people's than mine.

But you yourself wrote saying she had done you a service?—Well, it would have been more proper if I had written " You might do me a service.'' I told Mr. Holmes that nobody had ever, to my recollection, cut a curl of my hair.

Then, when the letter was dictated, Mr. Holmes knew that no hair had been cut off?—I should say so.

But he stated that the lock was identically the same as your hair. Did Mr. Holmes know at that time that no hair had been cut?—Certainly, he knew in the first instance, when the letter was written. I had told him that no person had cut my hair.

The jury asked to be informed what year the hair was taken off.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: There is a dispute about that.

The Solicitor-General: Had you a doubt about its being your hair when you wrote the letter?—Well, I did not think of it at the time. I had been told before the hair arrived that it was like mine, and I thought it probable that some one might have it cut off.

Look at the letter, and see how it is spelt. Surely you will not say that Mr. Holmes dictated that?—The claimant examined the letter.

Having seen the letter, is there anything you want to say in explanation?—Nothing whatever, other than what I have said.

Did you not make use of the passage respecting your hair in your affidavits in Chancery?—I don't deny it.

And you mean to say that at the time you made those affidavits you knew that nobody had cut off your hair?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: He has not said that.

The Claimant: I should like to know what affidavits you are speaking about.

The Solicitor-General: I mean the one dated 7th April, 1868. Do you mean to say that at that time you had told Mr. Holmes that no one had cut your hair off?—I had told him previously. I said that if it was cut off such a thing was unknown to me.

The Solicitor-General then read a letter from Mr. Holmes to Don Pedro, dated May 30, 1868, referring to his having employed Mr. Letts, of Valparaiso, as an agent in the matter, but who had only sent him one letter, giving an evasive reply, so that he took it for granted that Sir Roger's opponents had influenced him In consequence he had not communicated with Mr. Letts, nor did he intend to do so. The evidence in the case, he said, was quite ready. Against 103 witnesses, including all classes of society, who swore to the identity of Sir Roger, they had only to produce the representatives of four persons, who did not know him before he left England in 1853. He had learned that Sir Roger's opponents, being unable to obtain witnesses in England, were about to make an application to the Court of Chancery to have a commission sent out for the examination of persons in Chili, and, if so, Sir Roger would have the pleasure of going to Mellipilla.

The next letter was dated July 15, 1868, from Castro to Mr. Holmes:—

Dear Sir,—By what I write to Sir Roger C. D. Tichborne under this same date you will perceive that, through my absence I received your esteemed favour on the 1st May after some delay. In reply to that letter I have to inform you that Don Cervero Barra is the person who has endeavoured to show that Sir Roger was an imposter: that he had assumed that name in the place of his true Christian and surnames of Arthur Horton, having borrowed the same in order to usurp the inheritance, and that he is the son of a butcher and not of a nobleman belonging to the English aristocracy. No one has known here the true Arthur Horton; and although Sir Roger bore that Christian and surname, he himself communicated to Don Jose Miguel Valdivieso and to other persons that they were not his own; that he belonged to the English aristocracy; and that in England he had played with the Queen's children. I am extremely glad that Sir Roger's cause is going on favourably. As Sir Roger has to show you what I write to him under this date, I refrain from giving you further particulars, and subscribe myself your obedient servant.

PETRO A CASTRO.

The following letter was also read from Mr. Holmes to Petro à Castro:—

1st Sept., 1868.

Dear Sir,— The opponents of Sir K. Tichborne have not attempted to prove before our Courts here that he and Arthur Horton (or Orton) arc the same; but, having since discovered that a person of that name, who left England for Australia in 1852, has not since then returned to his family, they doubtless instructed Don Cervero Barra to impose upon your intelligence by the circulation of such things. Nevertheless, I found out the relations of Orton, and took them to see Sir Roger Tichbome, other gentlemen being present, so that there might be no mistake whatsoever. Three sisters and a brother of Arthur Orton's, being the whole of his relatives in this country, distinctly declared that they had never seen him before, and that he was in no way connected with them. I enclose copies of the declarations (in writing) of Charles Orton and Mrs. E. Jury to this effect, which please give to Sir Roger's friends. The affidavits of Mrs. Tredgett and Mrs. M. Jury are with those I forwarded you by last mail. Thus you can see that it is neither more nor less than malice which induced them to represent that Sir Roger Tichborne belonged to the Orton family. By the mail of May last I sent you a large photograph of Sir Roger Tichborne, and I cannot understand how it is you did not receive it. I now forward you by this mail another copy, which I hope will reach you safely. Sir Roger Tichborne, accompanied by his counsel, Mr. W. E. Hall, and by my chief clerk, Mr. John Stephens, will leave England for Rio de Janeiro by the steamer Oneida, on the 9th of this month. They will remain there but a few days, and will start again by the mail steamer Panama (which arrives at Rio Janeiro five days afterwards) for Valparaiso. Sir Roger Tichborne is very desirous that you should meet him at the said port of Valparaiso. He goes out with the object of collecting evidence as to his identity, under the commission that out Courts have ordered. I have appointed in the commission on his behalf Mr. Edwin Letts, of Valparaiso, and Mr. W. J. Thomson, British Consul at Santiago. Their duties will be simply to set down in writing the evidence of the witnesses. Those of the commission on the side of the opponents of Sir Roger Tichborne are Mr. Eastman and another gentleman, to be appointed. They send out a young English barrrister, named Mr. H. F. Purcell. I have no doubt whatsoever but that all efforts will be made by them for the purpose of prejudicing Sir Roger Tichborne; but trusting, as he does, in the perfect truth of his cause, their plots will be frustrated, I feel convinced that I can trust to your good offices on behalf of Sir Roger Tichborne aud of those who .accompany him in their journey to make the truth evident, and that you will do everything possible to assist them.—I am, dear sir, JOHN HOLMES.

P.S.—I have learned that Arthur Horton was at Hobart Town, Tasmania, Australia, in 1853 and 1854, whilst Sir Roger Tichborne was travelling in South America. Orton went to Australia in the barque Middleton in November, 1852, and remained there till 1855. My agents in Melbourne have followed his track, by means of a cousin of his residing in the town, from whom he borrowed some money, copy of the receipt for which, as also his letter. are now in my possession. I still hope to come upon this Orton living in the flesh, for there are a great many people in Australia who knew him, as they knew also Sir Roger Tichborne.

The Solicitor-General read another letter from Mr. Holmes to Don Castro, in which he stated that the evidence given in the Courts in this country had been translated into Spanish for his information and that of others, and that he intended to give to it the widest circulation in order to defeat the ends of the adverse party. Twelve copies of the evidence were sent to persons resident in and around Melipilla.

The Solicitor-General: Do you happen to know the persons named in the letters to whom copies of your affidavit were sent?—I became aware of them from having read the evidence taken by the Chilian commission. You must understand that I did not mention all the names of these people in my first letter.

Did you tell Mr. Holmes when the letter was signed that he had better take care of the Senora and look after her?—I am not aware that I did.

The Solicitor-General here read a letter from the claimant to Castro, announcing his intention of starting for Chili with his advisers, and hoping that he (Castro) would meet him at Valparaiso. The letter concluded thus: " Au revoir, then, and believe me, your affectionate friend," &c.

The court then adjourned till Thursday.

[The Prince and Princess of Wales were present during the afternoon.]

TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY.—WEDNESDAY, JUNE 21.

TWENTY-SEVENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued The last letter which I read yesterday, namely, one written by Mr. Holmes in reply to Pedro a Castro, contained this passage: " 1 have learned that Arthur Orton was at Hobart Town, Tasmania, Australia, in 1853 and 1854, whilst Sir Roger Tichborne was travelling in South America. Orton went to Australia in the barque Middleton in November, 1852, and remained there until 1855. My agents in Melbourne have followed his track by means of a cousin of his residing in the town, from whom he borrowed some money, copy of which, as also his letter, are now in my possession. Do you know whom Mr. Holmes was employing at that time?

Claimant: Sedgefield and Allport.

Do you know where they had followed Orton to?—I do not.

But did you?—I heard about it.

From place to place?—I don't know where.

Do you know one track they pursued?—I don't know.

You gave us his track yesterday yourself. Did you furnish that track to your agents?—I can't say, I'm sure. I think you are speaking of one thing and I am speaking of another.

I mean, did you in September, 1868, give them the track Orton pursued.?—I gave it to my solicitor.

Look at that (receipt produced). Is the signature in Arthur Orton's handwriting?—It looks like his.

Do you believe it to be his?—Yes.

Look at that (letter produced). Do you believe that to be his handwriting?—It looks like it.

Do you believe it to be his?—Yes, I do.

The Solicitor-General then read the receipt and letter, which were as follows:—

Hobarton, May 22, 1855.

Three months after date I promise to pay Mr. Francis Jury the sum of fourteen pounds for cash advanced to me.

£14

ARTHUR ORTON.

June 28. My dear Friend.—I have not wrote before on account of not getting settled before last Tuesday. That house in Murray-street I found out they meant to take me inn with itt, so i had nothink to do with it. I have taken a shop in the New Market, No. 25, witch will answer me better, as i am better known in this neighbourhood. I have got a few very good customers that will keep me going for awhile, till I get a few more. I am very sorry, my dear friends, that i did not find out that you have paid me eighteen pound for 14 until last Tuesday, when i went to pay for the fixtures I found it out at least in have 4 pounds more than i ought to have And i Mrs. Jury paid me a 5 for a 1, and that how the mistake is. Mrs. Jury was speaking of some potatoes they are fetching from 22 to 24 pound aton, and onions arc from 35 to 40 per ton. there is not many in the market. Beef and mutton is very dear at present, not for the want of it, for there is plenty in. But the butchers run one another up so much at sales. Give my best respects to Mrs. Jury and all the children, and Except the same yourself from your Truly Humble, &c.,

ARTHUR ORTON, 25, New Market, Hobarton.

I have not heard from any of my friends. Since i saw Mrs. Jury My brother George has never wrote to me Since i have been here yet I suppose he forgot me. I have wrote 3 or 4 times to Mr. Moore for him, but never got an answer, that ware Lizzy told me to write.

Upon your oath, Did you write those?—Upon my oath, I did not.

Do you know how those came into the possession of Mr. Holmes in 1868?—I don't know.

Do you know who the cousin was?—No.

Did you hear me mention the name Jury?—Yes.

Have you an independent recollection of the name?—Some of Orton's sisters are named Jury.

How did Mr. Holmes get a letter and receipt from Orton's cousin in Hobart Town, in September, 1868?—I don't know, unless he trot them from his agent.

You can't enlighten me how he came to hear of Arthur Orton?—No.

How did Mr. Holmes come to write to his agents about him?—I dare say he can tell you.

In the letter which you wrote to Don Tomas Castro, dated August 28, 1867, you say, " If possible, see Don Carlos Auselmo, of Valparaiso, as soon as you can. He will explain to you anything you do not understand." Had you communicated with Don Carlos Auselmo at Valparaiso?—I really couldn't say.

Do you mean that?—Yes.

Did you give instructions to have him communicated with?—Yes, I think I told Mr. Holmes to write to him.

Will you swear you didn't write yourself?—No, I will not. I have no recollection.

Have you any copy of the letter?—No.

What were the things Don Tomas Castro couldn't understand?—It is very hard for me to say. I should think he was probably written to, and the case explained to him.

Didn't you know him intimately?—I saw him occasionally like any other person for fortnight or three weeks.

In your examination by your own counsel you said, " I had before I changed my name to Castro known intimately the person so named. His Christian name was Tomas." Had you known him intimately? —I had known him well.

Is it true that you had been very intimate with him?—I don't know about " intimate."

It is your own word, you know, and not mine.—Yes, but I use a word without knowing the meaning of it. I meant that I had met him several times in a fortnight or three weeks.

Now what were the things you said he couldn't understand?—Really, I can't say.

But you wrote saying, " See Don Carlos Anselmo, of Valparaiso, who will tell you anything you can't understand."—That means to give him further information.

In your letter to him you address him as " My very dear friend."—I deny that. Produce the original letter.

We have it here. And you also used the word " esteemed" as applied to him.

A Juror: In Castilian Spanish they address a man that way alter seeing him once.

The Claimant: " Esteemed " is not in my letter. There may be expressions which are used as a matter of course.

The Solicitor-General: You say, " My old and kind friend would that be a matter of course in Spanish?—No.

You must have been speaking of people you had known, because you also say, " I was entirely forgetting a very old friend of mine—I mean Jose Marie Toro." What I suggest to you is that Castro is a very old and dear friend.—I don't know about that. What you are reading from is only a draft of my letter.

I see there are corrections in the draft. In whose handwriting are they?—I can't tell you.

The draft itself is your own?—Yes, it is a scribble of my own, never intended to to meet any eye but Mr. Holmes's.

Is that the draft from which the translation into Spanish was mode?—I can't say I gave it to Mr. Holmes, and I don't know whether he got the translation from it or not.

Can you explain how the name " José Miguel" is in the translation and not in the English draft?—I can't tell you.

José Miguel is a real person, isn't he?—I suppose so.

Didn't you desire to be remembered to him?—I don't know that I did.

Wasn't the letter to Don Tomas Castro, in which you desired to be remembered to Jose Miguel Berenguel, prepared by your direction?—I gave the draft, and I don't know what came of it after.

Here is an extract from your letter:—

Please remember me also to Don Raymond Alcaldi, Donna Henton, and my old companion, as I used to call him, Senivota Matilda, and also to Jose Marie Verengel and his brother.

Do you know José Marie Valdivieso?—I don't know, I'm sure. I couldn't have written. There is no such person.

Pedro à Castro, in replying to you, said:—

Don Jose Marie Verengel is not called so. He is Don Francisco Berenguel. He is established in .Santiago, and Don Jose Miguel Valdivieso, to whom you gave the name of brother of that person, is at this present time Regidore (Alderman) of the Municipality of Melipilla. Immediately on his reading your letter he brought to mind who you were, and about your stay in this town, &c., &c., feeling a lively pleasure in knowing of you.

Do you mean to say you don't know him?—I don't.

Will you swear that?—Yes.

Then allow me to ask you how Mr. Holmes, on the 15th of August., 1868, came to send a copy of your affidavit to Don Jose Miguel Valdivieso?—From Castro's letter, I suppose. Valdivieso is not mentioned.

Castro says he is not Don José Miguel Berenguel, but Don Jose Miguel Valdivieso. Did you suggest to Mr. Holmes that Castro was in error in saying that Don José Miguel Valdivieso was a friend of yours?—I was under the impression that he was brother of the other man. He was a young fellow who used to go out drinking with us of an evening.

Did you supply the name of Don José Miguel Berenguel to Mr Holmes as a person with whom it was desirable to communicate?—I was aware affidavits were being translated into Spanish for the purpose of being sent to Chili; but I don't know who they were sent to.

Do you recollect whether Don José Miguel Valdivieso lived in the same street at Melipilla as Castro?—I don't remember the name at all.

Pedro à Castro, writing to Mr. Holmes, says: " No one has known here the true Arthur Horton; and, although Sir Roper bore that Christian and surname, he himself communicated to Don José Miguel Valdivieso and to other persons that they were not his own—that he belonged to the English aristocracy, and that in Eugland he had played with the Queen's children."—That letter doesn't allude to me.

Why, the words " Sir Roger" are there. Do you mean to say you don't know him, or never spoke to him at all?—Not to my knowledge.

That you really mean to say?—Yes.

Didn't it occur to you that there was some mistake when Don Castro, to whom Mr. Holmes had sent the affidavits, had written hack to say that Sir Roger had told Don José Miguel Valdivieso that Orton was not his true name?—He was alluding to another person.

Not Sir Roger, you mean? To Orton, and not to you?—I don t see it alludes to me at all.

Do you suppose Sir Roger communicated to Jose Miguel Valdevieso that he belonged to tlie English aristocracy and played with the Queen's children?—How can I be responsible for what other people say.

The Chief-Justice: It gives you an opportunity of explaining. Pedro a Castro, in writing home, says that Sir Roger bore the name of Arthur Orton, that he communicated to him that the name was not his own, and that he belonged to the English aristocracy, and had played with the Queen's children.

The Claimant: I know nothing at all about it. When I was there I was simply Mr. Tichborne, and not Sir Roger. The agents for the other side have been going about there telling all the people I was not Sir Roger Tichborne, but Arthur Orton. That ought to be taken into account.

The Solicitor-General: Castro told Holmes that you bore the name of Orton in Chili, and that you had told Valdivieso it was not your real name. When you heard that why didn't you say, " I tell Valdivieso that Arthur Orton was not my true name! I never saw the man at all. He must be dreaming"?—I told Mr. Holmes I never went under that name, and I wished my opponents to know it. What could have been plainer than that?

I will tell you. You might hive said, " Tell Yaldivieso that I never had any such conversation as that suggested"?—It is implied, I think.

You think it is implied in the words, " I never bore the name of Arthur Orton "?—I do.

Did you write any other letter at all in answer to this statement of Pedro Castro's that Sir Roger had borne the name of Arthur Orton?—Really, I don't know.

Didn't you ask any questions as to how Orton had been confounded with you in Chili?—No, I did not.

The Solicitor-General, having read the letter from Pedro a Castro to Mr. Holmes, dated the 15th July, 1868, and which appeared in yesterday's report, asked for any further letters between both those gentlemen and between the former and the claimant.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said they would be produced if desired.

Cross-examination resumed: You became aware that the defendants had applied to issue a commission?—Yes.

Did you oppose the issuing of the commission?—I think I did.

Have you any doubt?—I believe I did.

Did you make an affidavit when you were opposing the commission?—Of course I did.

Did you swear that the application for a commission to South America and Australia was made for vexation and delay, and for the purpose of adding to your embarrassments?—If it is in the affidavits I believe it.

Is it true?—Yes.

In the various affidavits which you had made up to the time, had you said one single syllable about your acquaintance with Arthur Orton?—No, I dou't see how I could have done so.

Did you, in 1868, swear an affidavit in which you said that you knew Arthur Orton; that he was the son of a butcher at Wapping, and tliat you first became acquainted with him at Gippisland in 1865, when you were at the Dargo Station; that he was pitted with the small-pox, and that you were both employed by Mr. Robert Higgins, at Wagga Wagga, in 1865?—Yes.

Was that the first mention of Orton in any of your proceedings?—That refers to some paragraph.

The paragraph is a paragraph in the Australian paper. Is the first mention of any knowledge on your part of any acquaintance with Arthur Orton in the statement I have read? You knew that your own friends in Chili had said that you bore the name of Arthur Orton, don't you?—I don't know that I did.

Will you swear that you didn't?—That is rather a hard thing for me to swear. I can't understand unless you give me the dates of the letters.

Did you know when you resisted the application for the issuing of the commission to Chili that your friends in the country were aware you had said you bore the name of Arthur Orton when you went there?—I believe not.

Was it not because you knew what your friends would say that you opposed the commission?—It was not.

In June, 1868, when you were applying for a commission to go to Chili, why did you mention the name or Arthur Orton?—Because it was mentioned in a newspaper paragraph.

The Solicitor-General here read a paragraph from the Hobart Town Mercury stating that Mr. John Mackenzie had arrived from England, and had ascertained that the person known as Castro was identical with Arthur Orton, who came to Hobart Town some years before in charge of two Shetland ponies.

The Claimant: I consider it a scandalous thing for your agent to publish that all over the colony.

The Solicitor-General: You have no right to say that this emanated from Mr. Mackenzie.

The Claimant: I don't assert things that I can't prove.

The Solicitor-General: In your affidavit you say (speaking of Orton), " I did not know his family until 1868, when I called upon Mrs. Tridgett and Mrs. Jury. I am ready to confront anybody whether I am the said Arthur Orton or not, and my solicitor at Melbourne has been directed to try and find him out and bring him to England." Will you swear that there was any earlier mention of Arthur Orton in any deposition of yours of any kind?—I don't see how I can swear that. I made so many affidavits I cannot remember what was in them.

Did you know earlier than that anything about Arthur Orton? I mean, did you know that the defendants wanted to make you out Arthur Orton?—They first wanted to make me out a person named Smith, and then a person named Case. Question repeated.—I don't know.

Did you procure an affidavit from a man named Cater?—Yes.

Cater says that he is a master baker out of business, residing in Henry-street, Pentonville, and he goes on to state:

I lived in Wagga Wagga in 1865 and 1866. During the time I resided at Wagga Wagga I carried on business as a baker, and was acquainted with the plaintiff, who was passing by the name of Castro. I served him daily with bread for twelve months. He was carrying on business for Robert Higgins, as butcher, and at the same time there was another man named Arthur Orton, whom I knew, and whose face was pitted with small-pox. Since I have arrived in England I have had several, conversations with the plaintiff, and I have no doubt he is a distinct person from Arthur Orton.

You have filed that affidavit?—Yes.

Where is he now?—He has gone back again.

Was he in Australia when the commission was being executed?—I think not.

So that it happens that when the commission was in Australia he was in England, and when we are taking evidence in England he is back again in Australia?—That is a funny way of putting it.

But is it afact?—Yes.

Where is the fun in it?—Because you wish to imply that he doesn't want to be examined.

What was the earliest date of your inquiries about Arthur Orton?—Since I came back.

At all?—I don't know what you mean.

At what period of your life did you begin to inquire about Arthur Orton?—Really I can't say.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter addressed by the claimant to Mr. James Richardson, High-street, Wapping:—

Wagga Wagga, 13th April, 1865.

Mr. James Richardson.— Sir,— Although a perfect stranger I take the liberty ot addressing you; and as my residence at present is in this distant colony, I trust you will pardon the intrusion, and oblige me by granting the favour I seek. I believe there was some years ago, living in your neighbourhood, a person named Orton. To this man I wrote several letters, none of which has been answered. The letters were of importance to Orton or his family, and to no other, so that I must conclude he has not received them, as I am certain they would be answered; besides, as the district is, or lately was, in a very disturbed state through a lawless set who styled themselves bushrangers, and who respected neither life nor property, I concluded my letters, perhaps, fell into their hands. If Orton or his family live near you still, or if you have or can give any information respecting them, I shall for ever feel grateful. I beg to say here, with pleasure, that one of the most notorious of the bushrangers has fallen by a rifle ball, and that on the news of his death and doings being properly chronicled, I will send you the paper containing such. I trust you will not fail to obligo me by sending any information whatever respecting Orton or his son Arthur. —I am, sir, your obedient servant,

THOMAS CASTRO.

Should you write, address Thomas Castro, care of It. T. Higgins, Esq., Australian Hotel, Wagga Wagga, N. S, Wales.

Why were you so anxious in April, 1885, to know something about Orton or his son Arthur?—I was anxious to know where he was. I had two addresses on a piece of paper which he left before he went away. The dictation in the letter is not mine. I asked the schoolmaster to write and ascertain whether anything had been heard of Orton, as I hadn't seen anything of him for two years.

Why did you say, " I shall for ever feel grateful?"—That isn't my writing.

Did the schoolmaster read it over to you?—Yes.

What was it that would make you grateful for any information about him or his family?—I didn't want anything about his family—it was only about him.

What was it that would have aroused your gratitude in April, 1865, for any information about him or his family?—I don't know that I was grateful. I was very anxious to know where Orton was.

But it is a very curious thing that all the letter is about his family, and it is only at the end of it you mention Arthur's name. How came the letter to go in that shape?— I'm sure I don't know.

Had yon seen any of the family but Arthur?—No.

Was there anything important you desired to communicate to Arthur Orton?— There was.

What was it?—I decline to answer.

But I must ask you.—I decline to answer.

The Chief-Justice: Why?

The Claimant: It might have a tendency to criminate myself.

The Solicitor-General: It wouldn't criminate you here, would it?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I apprehend my friend is bound by the answer.

The Chief-Justice: It is ambiguous at present.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is immaterial whether it would criminate him here or elsewhere. I object to any question in the matter, and I ask your lordship to take a note of my objection.

The Solicitor-General: It is a matter for the witness, and not for counsel.

Mr. Serjeat Ballantine:I beg your pardon. Not when he is the plaintiff.

The Chief-Justice: I will listen to argument on it.

The Solicitor-General: I will not press it at present. (To the claimant): Was it something that had suddenly arisen, or something that had occurred years before?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Don't answer.

The Solicitor-General: Upon your oath, do you mean to say that answering the question that I put to you would tend to criminate yourself?—Upon my oath, it would.

" Criminate" may have various senses. Would this tend to prove that you had been guilty of an offence punishable by law?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Don't answer that question.

The Chief-Justice: If he says on his oath that it would tend to criminate him, I don't see that you want any more.

The Solicitor General: I mean different senses.

Mr. serjeant Ballantine: The words he used are the words used by the law of England.

The Chief-Justice (to the claimant): Taking the ordinary meaning of " criminate," you say you object to answer the question.

The Claimant: I do, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: In your letter to Mr. Richardson you say, " There was some years ago living in your neighbourhood a person named Orton. To this man I wrote several letters which have not been answered. The letters were of importance to Orton or his family, and to no other, so that I must conclude he has not received them, as I am certain they would have been answered.''—I have never written any letters to them.

Then that is untrue?—Certainly it is. I have never written any letters.

How could the schoolmaster come to write it?—I don't know I'm sure.

Where upon earth could the schoolmaster get the information that you had written several letters to a man named Orton in the neighbourhood of High-street, Wapping, none of which had ever been answered?—I don't remember that at all.

Will you swear you don't.—I will.

The Chief Justice: The letters are mentioned in three places, and the substance of them. Do you mean you never wrote to Orton?

The Claimant: On reflection, my lord, I think I must have written I have no recollection of doing so; but, from the tendency of the letter, I must have done it.

The Chief Justice: You swore positively you had never written a letter?

The Claimant: If I did so I did so purely from my thoughts.

The Solicitor-General: Do you remember what the letters were about?—If I wrote, they were to Arthur Orton himself.

It seems by the letter you were referring to the father, because you say, " Orton, or his son Arthur "?—I certainly never wrote to his father. If 1 wrote, it was to Arthur himself.

The letter is written about the father. Can you explain it?—No.

The letter was written and read over to you?—Yes.

You mentioned in the letter about matters of importance to Orton or his amily, and no one else.—I don't know that I put that in the letter. I should think that portion of it was untrne.

Why did you let it go?—I cau't say, I'm sure.

Why did you want to know whether Orton or his family lived in Wapping?— My instructions to the schoolmaster were to find out the son.

Then why did you let it go in the present shape?—I didn't think it would be discussed in this court.

Why did you write to Wapping?—Because it was one of the addresses he gave me.

Did you know Mr. Jamea Richardson?—No.

Why did you write to him?—Because it was the address he gave me.

When?—When he left me at Gundiggai.

The Chief-Justice: Was there any reason for getting the schoolmaster to do it?

The Claimant: I thought that he would do it better than I could, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: What were the letters to Orton about?—I decline to answer at question.

The Chief-Justice: On what ground?

Claimant: The same ground as before—they might criminate myself.

Thea you refuse to say what they were about?—It would be on that subject.

Do you mean to swear?—Yes. I shouldn't write to him on any other.

Are the letters which you say tend to criminate yourself the only ones—if you wrote any—which you sent to Orton?—Yes, I think they would be.

Will you swear it?—I don't think I could swear it.

The Court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the Court re-assembling the cross-examination of the claimant was further proceeded with.

The Solicitor-General: Who was the schoolmaster who wrote the letter for you?—I don't remember his name.

How came you to get him to write it?—I cannot say how it caine; he was always in my office, and I thought ho would do it better than I. By my office I mean Mr. Higgins's at Wagga Wagga.

Why did yon not sign it?—I can't tell.

When was the letter read over to you?—I don't remember. I am not at nil certain that it was read over to me.

When last was it before this letter was written that you had seen Orton?—It was at Gundiggai, about April 13, 1862, I believe.

What passed then?—He said that if he was successful where he was going he should go over to England.

And what more?—I don't remember.

What was the address he left?—There were two addresses, both in English. I knew the one, but I could not say where the other was.

Where were you to go if he had been unsuccessful in the pursuit he was about?— I knew where to go to. He was off to the gojd diggings at the Langholme Flat. I never heard from him any more until I saw him again in Wagga Wagga.

In 1860 you wrote about " a man living in Wapping some years ago;" what did you mean by that?—I don't know, I am sure; probably I meant Orton.

What period of time did you mean by " years ago "?—I can't say exactly.

Did you ever get any answer to the letter?—No.

You put your address at the bottom, I see.—Look at the little note in this corner, " Answered 15—7—'65." What does that mean?—I can't say. I deny having had an answer.

Did you ever inquire whether Mr. Richardson got the letter?—No, I think not

Was the account given in the letter true as to the bushrangers?—Yes.

That one of the most notorious of them was killed about that time by a rifle shot? —I can't tell about that time. What is the date?

15th April, 1865?—I dare say there was.

You say you are not Arthur Orton?—Certainly not.

Then this question that I am now going to put lias nothing to do with you; but was Arthur Orton ever accused of horse-stealing?—I don't see why I should answer that question.

The Chief-Justice: Why not?—Well, he was so accused.

The Solicitor-General: When?—In 1859 or 1860.

Now, upon your oath, did you not go by the name of Orton up to that time, and then change it to Castro?—Upon my oath I did not. I will tell you the truth. I have sworn three or four times already that I never went by the name of Orton at all.

Was this at the top of the letter, " Hubberton, 1854, 9th June"?—Well, I don't know; but you have got several persons to swear to that being in my handwriting. Persons have been engaged doing so.

The Solicitor-General: You have no right to say that, because it provokes me to say that it is as true as other things you have said.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am not afraid of the test.

The Solicitor-General: Are those words in your handwriting? No; but persons have sworn that it is.

Was not that letter dated at the same time that Orton last wrote to his family?— I can't say.

Did you ever hear from Orton when he last communicated with his family?—No, I did not.

The letter was shown to the jury.

The Solicitor-General: When did you last see Orton?—About a fortnight or three weeks before I came away.

Then you did not see him after you wrote to inquire as to his whereabouts until just as you were coming away?—Yes, from Wagga Wagga, and to Sydney, home.

That was in June, 1866?—Yes.

Probably you will explain the difference that exists in your two affidavits—the one filed in Chancery and the other in the Probate Court. In the one you say you know Orton, the son of a butcher at Wapping, when he was in service at Gipsland in 1855, that his face had marks of small-pox, and so on, and that he was employed by Mr. Higgins, at Wagga Wagga, in 1865; whilst in the other you state that he was employed in Gipsland in 1855, and again in 1865. Is that correct?—Well, I was speaking from memory.

Then he was employed in Gipsland in 1865?—No, I think it was in 1866.

But you have asserted that it was in 1865?—Well, I swore to the best of my memory.

Your affidavit states that you were employed by Mr. Higgius in 1865?—It was some time about then.

And you say that you did not see Orton from the time yon wrote the letter in April, 1865, until just before you left Wagga Wagga, in 1865. How is that?—It should be 1866. It is merely a mistake in the year. I remember his coming down with some cattle from Mr. Higgins's station on the Lochlands.

When did you go into Mr. Higgins's employment?—I do not remember exactly.

Was it somewhere about the end of 1863?—Before that, I think.

Was it about November of that year?—Probably, but I do not recollect.

And did you stay in his employment till the end of 1865?—Yes, I believe I did I can't speak exactly as to dates.

And you and Orton wore fellow-serva$$Unclear$$ts under Higgins?—No, never at all.

What did you mean by saying that you and he were in his service at that time?— Well, I ought to have said that I left the employ just before he came into it. I think when he came down with the cattle I had then left. My affidavit is true in one sense, that we were both employed by Mr. Higgins, though it was at different times. I have nothing to lead me to form any conclusion otherwise. I believe both of us were employed by Mr. Higgins in 1865, though not in Wagga Wagga at the same time..

But you have sworn it?—Of course, when you come to sharpen me up about dates, it brings matters to my mind.

Was Orton likely to remain in Wagga Wagga when you last saw him?—No, $$Unclear$$ going to Albury.

Mr. Holmes, your attorney, in one of his letters states that he has disccvscred the track of Orton by means of one of his cousins, from whom he borrowed money, and the receipt for which he had in his possession. You say you had met hkn.in Wagga Wagga in 1866. Why did your attorney begin tracing him eleven years before, at Hobart Town, in 1855?—I don't know where my attorney began tracing him.

You knew his track up to 1866, and it was not necessary for you to go further back than that, surely?—No doubt Mr. Holmes wanted to go hack to 1855 to get information as to our different existences. There was somo information,. I think, that he was in Western Australia, and Mr. Holmes caused inquiries to be made there. He went back to 1855, I should say, to prove our different existences.

But Mr. Holmes knew you had left him alive and well in 1866, at Wagga?—Yes, I presume so.

Had you spoken of Orton to other people as a mail whom, you had known $$Unclear$$ mately?—Very probably I did.

Did you tell Lady Tichborne so?—Do you mean my mother, or my wife?

I meant the Dowager?—I believe I did.

That you had known him?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General: I will read you the following letter:—

2, Wellesley Villas, Wellesley-road, Cioydon, Feb. 18, 1868.

My dear Mamma,—I am glad to say that I am much better to-day, but in is $$Unclear$$ a miserable day here that I cannot go out. When I wrote to you yesterday I had not-seen the report of my case in the Times—in fact I did not know of it till some gentlcmans that, was here last night told me of it. I had to send for Mr. Holmes last night to see a gentleman that was mere, but I had no opportunity of speaking to him, for he left with the others. The gentlemans that, was here was some friends of Mr. Bloxam. It appears that the other side are trying to make out that I am not myself, but a person named Horton. This person that came happened to be a schoolfellow of this Horton, and in cause of business mentioned it to Bloxam, and told Bloxam that Detective Witcher had been to him three times. He told Bloxam he could swear to $$Unclear$$ person Horton wherever he seen him. So I told Bloxam to bring him here, and let me see $$Unclear$$ was his old schoolfellow. As soon as he saw me he said, I have never seen this person before; he certainly is not Horton, my old schoolfellow. I then sent for Mr. Holmes, and he told Mr. Holmes that the lies they have told him was dreadful. He told Mr. Holmes that the person the other side told him I was was a sailor, and had been a sailor all his life. He said this person Horton had marks on his hand that that would never disappear from pulling in ropes; he looks at my hands and said he could swear 1 had never been a sailor. This gentleman is named Page, and a very rich man—the owner of ninety vessels on the river, and is a director of the South Western Railway. This will be a heavy blow for the other side, for they will see they have again broke down. I wonder who they will try to make mo next. I have nothen further to say, except that Mr. Holmes told me last night that the Rev. Mr. Cooper was going to make an affidavit against me, and that I don't believe. Don't you ask him not to do it on any account.—Your affectionate. Son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

The Claimant: Is that a fac-simile of my letter.

The Solicitor-General: Attend to me.

The Claimant: I believe I have a right to ask the questi You are reading the letter in a very improper manner.

The Chief-Justice: Be careful what you say. The original letter has been handed to your counsel.

The Claimant: I beg pardon, my lord; I was not aware or that.

The Solicitor-General: Had you told Lady Tichborne they had accused you of being Arthur Orton?—I think not.

Had you known it as far back as September, 1867?—I really can't say.

The Solicitor-General: Here is another of your letters:—

2. Welleslcy Villas, Oct. 20, 1867.

My dear friend Rous,—I am very sorry that vagabond of a servant ox mine should have given you any abuse. I only received your letter after I wrote last night to you. I have not seen him since. I discharged him at the station. I shall never employ him again, that's certain We find the other side very busy with another pair of sisters for me. One of them been to see Mr. Holmes. They had been three days at them, and they are quite sure of success. Only there is this difference which they cannot make out. The brother of tdiese young womans is dark, and very much marked with the small-pox very much about the face. But they are still very sure I am him. I wonder who I am to be next. The man they think I am is still living in Wagga Wagga under an assumed name. I suppose this accounts for the independents of George Greenwood. They say I was born in Waping. I am glad they have found a respectable part of London for me. I never remember having been there. But Mr. Holmes tell me it a very respectable part of London. Lady t. begs to be kindly remembered to Mrs. Rous and self. I am very glad you did not trust Carter with the little dog. I will meet him at any time you send him up. Mama has just come, so I must say good bye.—Truly yours,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

How came you to tell Mr. Rouse that you had never been to Wapping?—Because I did not want to let him know everywhere I went.

Then you told him a gratuitous lie?—I did.

You told him that?—Yes.

And you found Wappmg a most respectable part of Loudon?—I m sure I don't know about that. I was only there in a cab for about, twenty minutes altogether.

Why did you go to Wapping—for what purpose?—To ascertain if Orton had arrived.

You told Mr. Rouse that they said you were born in " Waping," and that you could not remember having been there. Yon had forgotten your visit on the first night of your arrival then?—I did not think of it at the time.

Had you forgotten it? Very probably I had.

Though you went to Wapping to see if Orton had arrived, yet you told Mr. House that you had never been there?—I can't say that I remembered it at the moment that letter was written.

Why did you say you had never been to Wapping?—I can't tell you, I am sure.

Did you tell anybody you had been down to Wapping?—Yes, I did.

Did you tell Mr. Spofforth?—I decline to answer.

Any other person—any stranger other than your attorney?-—The probability is that I did, but I cannot say who.

Cannot you tell me the name of any person to whom you stated you went to Wapping on the Christmas Eve, the first night of your arrival in this country?—I did not think it was a thing I should talk about.

Why did you not say you went to Wapping the first thing on your arrival?—I did not see why I should mention it. Besides, I did not go there the first thing.

Well, I know you went to Ford's Hotel and other places first. Were you careful not to mention it?—I did not care to mention it.

Now, didn't you take care not to mention it?—Probably I did.

Why?—Because I had my reasons for going there, which I shall not care to tell you.

What were your reasons?—Well, they were to ascertain if Crton had got there before me.

Then did you happen to leave Australia at one and the same time?—Certainly not.

Where was the first place you made inquiries as to whether Orton had arrived?— I went by cab to the address I had, and then I entered a public-house.

Where was the first place at which you made inquiry—the public-house?—I got to know, by some means or other, from the person there, that he had not arrived, but I can't say who told me.

Was it a man or a woman?—A female.

That you swear?—Yes.

I understand you to deny that you were ever known as Arthur Orton at Melipilla in 1849 and 1850?—Certainly.

Did you know Thomas Castro?—Yes.

Was he a general grocer?—Well, he kept a general store, but it was not a grocer's hop such as we see here in England.

Was there any hotel when you were there?—No, there was not, but there was kind of lodging-house.

Is it true that you first saw Castro at the house of Dr. Hayley?—No.

And when you were 16 or 17 years of age?—Certainly not.

Did you stay at Dr. Hayley's for nearly a year?—No.

Did you leave Hayley's and go to stay at Castro's house?—Certainly not.

And did you leave Castro and go to Don Ramon Alcalde's house?—No.

Did you know his house?—Yes. It was at Santiago, some five or six miles from Melipilla.

Did you know Don Pedro Pablo Toro?—Yes.

Had he a place at Concumin?—Yes.

Did you leave Melipilla about 1851 or 1852?—Certainly not.

Did you know Dona Clara Norries de Hayley?—Yes, the doctor's wife.

Did you know her sister?—I can't say that I did.

Did you ever live in the house of Dona Teresa Hurtado?—Certainly not. I knew a lady named Hurtado.

Did you ever call the wife of Castro Mrs. Castro?—I don t know that I did, but he was always bothering me to teach me to say so.

Did you know Don Revenguel?—No, I think not.

Or Don José Miguel Yaldivieso?—I can't say. Certainly not by that name.

Or Don Ramon Ozocar?—Yes, he was alway's at Castro's.

What is the size of Melipilla?—It is a small place.

So that if a gentleman was staying there, say for two or three years, tie could get to know most of the people?—Certainly.

Did you know Dona Francisca Ahumada?—No.

That you swear?—Yes.

The lady who cut the lock of hair?—I did not know her.

Why did you not say you did not know her when redro Castro said she had got a lock of your hair?—Well, I told Mr. Holmes so.

Why did you not write it so?—Because Mr. Holmes persuaded me that a lock of hair might have been cut off unbeknown to me.

Did he have any difficulty in persuading you!—Yes, I think so.

Do you really mean to say you never had any conversation with Don Jose Valdivieso about yourself and your father?—No.

Did you never tell him that your father was Councillor (Canciller) to the Queen?—No.

Did you know Dona Maria Logos?—I can't say, but I have heard the name before.

I was not an intimate friend of hers, certainly.

Did you stay in Dr. Hayley's house, dressed as a sailor?—I did not.

Do you recollect a revolution in Chili called the Revolution of Monte?—I don't remember it.

Did you ride much when in Mellipilla?—Yes, from place to place during my stay there.

And you used to call Don Hurtado " papa?"—Certainly not.

Did he live in the same street as Castro, but on the opposite side. I don't remember.

Did you speak Spanish, to these people?—No, not a word.

How did you make yourself understood?—In French.

Did they all speak French?—No; some of them did, and they used to interpret to the others.

Did you stay in the house of Pedro Barra?—No.

Or with Don Ramon Ozocar?—No, but Ozocar was frequently in the same place, at Castro's.

How long did you stay at Castro's?—About five nights altogether.

Were you at all intimately acquainted with Dr. Hayley?—I met him perhaps six or seven times altogether.

Did you tell him that your father was a butcher, and that you had run away from a ship?—Good gracious, no.

Or that you had three sisters?—Certainly not.

Did you know Eudojia Hurtada?—I only knew the person mentioned in my first letter.

Did yon tell her that your father had money, and employment nnder the Queen, and that your mother often spoke to her Majesty?—No, I don't even know that lady.

If persons swore so, then, it is false?—If they have sworn that I said so, it is false, certainly.

That the captain had treated you badly, and that you had a disease in your head?—Certainly not to that lady.

Who is the lady to whom you refer?—The one I met at Hay ley's. She was an aged person. I did not speak to her for the best of all reasons—that I could not.

Was she the wife of Don Pedro Pablo Toro?—I can't say,

Who was his wife?—I do not remember; but I am under the impression that she was the sister of Castro's wife.

Were you on intimate and affectionate terms with Castro?—Yes. I slept about five nights in his house. I was about a fortnight or three weeks in Mellipilla altogether.

Did you know Manuela Gonzales?—I don't remember.

Pedro Pablo Toro you knew?—Yes.

Did you go to his place at Concumin?—Yes.

Did he meet you first at the house of a man called Rogos?—I don't remember.

Did you tell him that your family was rich; that you were on a tour for the sake of your health; that the captain of the ship treated you unkindly, and that you ran away?—No, I did not.

Or that your father was purveyor of meat to the Queen?—Certainly not.

Or that one of your brothers was well off, and that one of your sisters was married?— No, certainly not.

Did you know any of the Ahumadas?—No, not at all.

Was Dona Francisca Ahumada the mother of the Oz'ocars?—The lady I remember was about sixty years of age. She was one of the Ozocars, I believe.

Did you have a long conversation with Dona Francisco?—How can I say that when I don't remember the person?

Do I understand you to deny that the Dona Francisca cut a lock of hair from your head?—Of course I do.

Did you know Mercedes Ozocar?—I only knew the one I have mentioned.

Did you say anything to her?—It was not a her at all; it was a him. (Laughter )

Did you ever say to a lady that your father was carnicuero to the Queen, and that when she did not understand you, you took up a piece of meat and said, " My father gives this to the Queen "?—No. Certainly not.

What name did you go by?—By my own, Roger Tichborne.

Did you not say that because you were a deserter it was not convenient to give your right name?—No. Certainly not.

Did you make any statement to Carlotta Aziscr?—No. I did not know her at all.

And did you not tell her any story about your father or your deserting from the ship?—No.

Or did you give Dr. Hayley the same account?—Certainly not.

You knew the wife of Don Pedro Pablo Toro?—Yes.

Did you ever say to her that you had been sent to sea on travel, and that you had run away because of the bad treatment of the captain?—No.

Were Don Toro and Dona Teresa your godfather and godmother when you were baptised in Chili?—Certainly not me. I never was baptised there.

Did you ever know a Mrs. Watson at Melipilla?—No.

Or while you were in Chili?—A Mr. Watson came over from Callao to Valparaiso in the same steamer, but I don't remember the date exactly. I think it was in 1853.

What became of him?—How do I know.

Where did you part with him?—When he left the vessel at Valparaiso. I think I met him when I was there the second time. I don't believe that anything he has said about me is true. When I told Mr. Giffard that I did not know any such person I meant that I did not remember him personally. I did not form the acquaintance of any Mr. Watson during the passage. I don't deny there was such a person on board, but I say that what he has stated in his affidavit is false.

The Chief-Justice: When you were at Melipilla did you ever see any person known as Arthur Orton?—No. It was years previous that he was there.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

TWENTY-NINTH DAY.—THURSDAY, JUNE 22.

TWENTY-EIGHTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued: I asked you how you came to say there was a photograph taken of yourself at Southampton. Was there any photograph taken of you before you went away?— There was a daguerreotype taken.

Where was it taken?—In Southampton.

What part of Southampton?—High-street.

At which side of the Bar?—At the harbour side.

Who was with you when it was taken?—I was alone.

What became of it?—I can't say whether the one produced the other day is the same or not.

Was there more than one ever taken at Southampton?—No, I think not.

Very well, then, we are talking of the same thing.—Is it your judgment that it was taken at Southampton?—No. After reading Helsby's evidence I don't believe it to be the same.

Were you dressed like that?—No, I had no shiny hat on.

Do you state it to be a Southampton daguerreotype?—I don't swear it not to be.

In your affidavit you say that a daguerreotype photograph of yourself was taken at Southampton in the latter part of 1852. In the affidavit as originally prepared you did not mention the place, but you put in the word '' Southampton " afterwards. Now, I ask you, is it or is it not a Southampton daguereotype?—I can't say whether it is or not.

Do you mean your memory is so imperfect that you can't tell whether the daguereotype produced is the last taken in J;his country before you left for South America?—I had a daguerreotype taken before I went away, but I can't say whether that is the one.

Question repeated.—I can't say whether it is or not.

Why did you mention the Southampton portrait?—Because I was under the impression it was the only one taken. I had no knowledge of any other.

Can't you tell what you done with the first and last daguerreotype taken of you?—No.

Have you any impression?—I have.

What is it?—That I left the portrait in some boxes at Mrs. Thompson's, in St. James's Place. Mr. Gosfort was to have sent for it.

When you saw this (produced), you thought it was the same portrait?—Yes.

Have you made any inquiry for the Southampton portrait?—No. I don' t know what has become of the boxes.

Where was this one kept?—It was on the table of my dressing-room for several weeks.

Did you show it to anybody?—All the servants saw it.

Did you ever show it to any of the members of the family?—No.

Did you take it to St. James's Place?—Yes.

To whom did you show it there?—I don't remember.

What did you have it done for?—What does everybody have their likeness for?

The Chief-Justice: Was it to keep for yourself or give away?

The Claimant: I forget which. It was a very bad one.

The Solicitor-General: You say you made no inquiry about it?—That was wrong. Inquiries have been made for the man who took it, but it has not been found where he went to.

Who inquired after him?—Mr. Baigent.

Just look at that (daguerreotype, in case, produced) and give me a distinct answer. Do you or do you not say that is the Southampton daguerreotype?—I could not say whether it is or not.

What is your belief?—I have no belief, except that I don t see a waistcoat there, and I had a waistcoat on when I had it taken at Southampton.

The Chief-Justice: I understood you to say that you had not a glazed hat on when you had it taken at Southampton. In your affidavit you say you had a cap on, and now you state you had a waistcoat. What is your belief now?

The Claimant: My belief is I was mistaken as regards the daguerreotype.

The Chief-Justice: Is that daguereotppe in the case a southamton daguereotype or not?

The Claimant: My belief is it is not.

The Solicitor-General: Why did you mention the cap the other day? What point did you make of the cap ?—I am not aware I made any point of the cap.

But in your affidavit the specific description of your dress was inserted after the affidavit was originally made, so that you were evidently speaking after consideration and reflection. Have you anything to explain about that?—No.

How came you to alter the affidavit?—I didn't alter it. my solicitor is better able to speak about that matter.

When you swore that affidavit had you forgotten you had had taken another portrait?—I don't know that I was aware another portrait had been taken.

Will you swear that you had no recollection of being taken at Santiago?—I'll swear that I had when I made the affidavit.

Will you swear that?—Yes.

Are you now aware of it?— I have been informed so.

Do you know, independently from information, that you had a portrait taken at Santiago?—I was sitting in Helsby's place, but I didn't know there was a portrait taken of me.

How did that happen?—He didn't inform me of it.

Why did you go there?—I went to bid Helsby good-bye.

Not to have your portrait taken?—No.

Just tell us what passed as far as you recollect.—He offered me a seat, and I sat there.

Was there an instrument of any kind in the room?—Yes.

Did he do anything with it?—I don't remember. I was talking to Moore.

You hadn't the least belief you were being daguerreotyped?—I believe I hadn't.

Do you moan to say you were sitting in the room and you did'nt know you were being daguerreotyped?—I believe I didn't. I have no recollection of it.

Do you mean to swear that at the time a daguerreotype was being taken you were not aware of it?—I will not. I have no recollection of it. It might be that I was aware, but I don't remember now.

Is that daguerreotype (produced) a portrait of you?—It is.

Where was that taken?—Helsby says he took it.

But give us your impression from your own recollection?—I have no recollection of its being taken.

Then I understand that if Helsby's evidence is true two separate daguerreotypes were taken of you without your knowing it?—Yes.

You are dressed differently in the portraits?—Yes; I went there at different times.

Was Helsby living at a house of his own or at a hotel?—He was living in a house of his own, near the Cathedral.

Did you yourself go to Helsby's to have them taken?—No.

Will you swear that?—No. How can I swear to what occurred twenty years ago.

Can you tell me, one way or the other, whether you went to Helsby's for tne purpose of having those two daguerreotypes taken?—No.

Will you swear you did not, or that you did not tell him you wanted to send them home?—No.

Will you swear you did not?—No.

Were they left with Moore to be sent home by you?—No.

Did you yourself send either of them home?—No.

Will you swear you did not?—To the best of my belief, I did not.

Did you ever see them after they were done?—I have no recollection of it.

Will you swear you didn't?—I won't.

Why not?—Because I have no recollection of it. When I was there I was drinking very hard.

Is that your signature (letter produced)?—Yes.

This is the letter:

Buenos Ayres, February 24, 1854.

My dear Aunt,—Where are you? In what part of Europe have you fixed yourself? Not knowing where you are, I have directed this letter to the care of Mr. Gosford, who will forward it to you wherever you are. When I was in Santiago last time, I had two very fair likenesses taken of me. I send one to my parents and one to you, though I doubt that you will know me again. My personal appearance, of which I always took so much care, has been so much improved by the tropical sun that I think I look much more like a red skin Indian than anything else. But, however, it is not worth thinking about. I arrived here on the 13th of this month, coming from Mendoza, where I had remained a week. I left Santiago on the 11th of January, to cross the Cordilleras of the Andes, which took me a week to do. If you favour me with a letter, will you have the kindness to direct it to Kingston, Jamaica, West Indies, where I shall be in about three months, to get my letters on my way to Mexico? I shall leave Buenos Ayres I expect in a few days for Monte Video. Pray excuse this short letter, I had not time to write more by this post, Pray give my love to my cousin.—Believe me, my dear aunt, your affectionate nephew.

To the Hon. Lady Doughty.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Do you want to explain that?—I have no explanation to give, except that I have forgotten it.

You have forgotten you had them taken, forgotten you had them sent home, and forgotten everything about it?—I don't see why you should say " forgotten to send them home."

Why?—Because Moore may have sent them.

But you have forgotten everything else about them?—Yes.

You read Helsby's evidence furnished by the Chili commission?—Yes.

Do you recollect undertaking to present yourself on the execution of the Chili commission when required to do so?—Yes.

I now call for the order of Mr. Justice Hannen. September 8, 1868. (Order produced). You recollect that order being made, and your undertaking to present yourself, on notice by the commissioners according to the terms of the order?—I do.

In your affidavit made on the 3rd September, 1868, you say: " I, the deponent, Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne, for myself say that I have made the necessary arrangements for proceeding immediately to Chili and Australia to be present at the examination of witnesses there. I have also retained and paid counsel to represent my interests in Chili. I distinctly swear it is my intention to carry out such arrangements, and, after the conclusion of the examinations in Chili, to proceed to Anatralia for like purposes." Your solicitor, Mr. John Holmes, also made an affidavit, and swore that your leading counsel were of opinion that it was necessary and proper that you should proceed to Chili and Australia. Is what you stated in your affidavit correct?—Yes.

Was it the truth, as stated in your affidavit, that you intended to attend the execution of the commission in Chili?—Yes.

When you started for Rio you were aware of the correspondence with Castro?—Yes.

I won't argue with you what the effect of the correspondence was; but whatever light it threw on the suggestion of Arthur Orton, you knew it?—Yes.

I observe that, in one of the letters—the last, I think, you wrote to Castro —you stated that on your way to Chili you intended to stay at Rio de Janeiro for the purpose of getting evidence of your identity?—Yes.

How long had you been at Rio when you came from Buenos Ayres in 1854?—Nine or ten days.

And you wanted to get evidence about the nine or ten days?—Yes, about my going on board the Bella.

You had read the evidence of Oates?—Yes, and I knew it to be false.

We'll find that out.—Yes, but he said the captain gave me a passage, as I had no money, whereas the banker's books proved I had £200.

When you got to Rio did you get evidence about your identity?—I believe I did.

This was in 1868? —None that I made use of.

You didn't find it useful?—I would have found it useful, but I didn't care about having a second commission.

Have you any evidence of identity collected at Rio?—I don't know.

Did you inquire whether they are to give evidence?—They are to be here.

Then they are coming, are they?

Mr. Giffard: I object. He cannot know, except from his attorney.

The Solicitor-General: Have you seen here a single witness from Rio?—There are several people here whom I have seen at Rio.

What I mean is, are there any of your witnesses from Rio here?—No.

Who did you see at Rio? You know you might have seen the Emperor.—Well, I did see him. (Laughter.)

Whom did you see?—Mr. M'Dougall and Mr. Holliscombe.

Was Mr. Holliscombe sent for to the Exchange Hotel?—No; I met him at dinner at the house of Mr. Bertie Matthews, the British Ambassador. I have an impression he called on me at the hotel a few days after.

Had he been Vice-Consul in 1854?—Yes.

Did he call to see you at the Exchange Hotel at the request of your solicitor?—No.

Who was your solicitor at Rio?—How am I to know he was an attorney or not?

Well, who was Mr. Holmes's agent there?—I think his name was Fry.

Did the person who was acting as agent for Mr. Holmes at Rio write to Mr. Holliscombe asking him to meet you at the Exchange Hotel?—Not to my knowledge.

Did Mr. Holmes's agent say to Mr. Holliscombe, in the presence of other people,

"Don't you know Sir Roger?" and didn't Mr. Holliscombe say, " I never saw the man before in my life"?—How could he say that, when I had met him at Mr. Matthews's.

Did he say it in your hearing when you were pointed out to him by Mr. Holmes's agent?—Certainly not. He would have made an affidavit for me, only your party was continually writing to him.

What did he go to the Exchange Hotel for?—He called in a friendly way. We smoked a cigar, and there was no conversation about attorneys or anybody else. Our conversation was about local matters.

Do you mean to say that his calling at the Exchange Hotel had no reference to your being Roger Tichborne?—I don't believe he has any doubt in the matter.

Question repeated.—It had not.

Did you find Holliscombe any use to you?—Mr. Holliscombe acknowledged many things I told him which occurred in 1854 were true; but he said that from what he had heard from the opposition, and the letters he had received from them, he had made up his mind he would not interfere one way or the other.

That you'll swear?—Yes.

That he told it to you?—He told it to Mr. Matthews.

Did Mr. Matthews tell it to you?—I believe he did.

Will you swear it?—I will.

Will you swear Mr. Holliscombe did not say in your presence in the Exchange Hotel, on your being pointed out to him, that he never saw you before?—I will swear he did not.

In your hearing?—Yes.

You say he refused to interfere one way or the other. What answer did he give you?—I asked him nothing. What did I want to put questions about myself to a man I had met before?

Did you ask him?—Certainly not.

Did you go to Rio to get evidence of your identity?—I went there on my way to Chili.

Did you endeavour to get evidence there?—Certainly.

Did you ask persons there if they knew you?—No. Mr. Hall, Mr. Holmes's clerk, made enquiries.

Why is there no evidence from Rio about your identity?—Are you sure there is no evidence?

I thought you said there was no evidence from Rio?- I did not.

Who else did you see at Rio whom you had known in 1854?—I only remember Mr. Holliscombe, Mr. M'Dougall, Mr. Bennett, and Mr. Cox.

Who is Mr. Cox?—The merchant who supplies the vessels there with everything they require.

Where does he live there?—At the right-hand side as you go up the steps. I don't know the names of the streets.

Does he carry on business under the name of Cox?—He is living independently now.

Who is Mr. M'Dougall?—The owner and builder of the Exchange Hotel.

Who is Bennett?—He now carries on Cox's business. He was formerly his foreman.

Can't you recollect anybody else?—Not at this moment.

You then went to Monte Video?—Yes.

Did you and the rest of your party part company?—Yes.

Did they wish you to go by the Straits of Magellan to Valparaiso?—Yes.

You refused to go by that route?—-I did. When we got to Monte Video, Major Munroe, the consul there, persuaded them that if they went by the inland route the Indians would cut their throats. (Laughter.)

Then they went by the Straits of Magellan, and you adopted the inland route?—Yes.

When you were at Buenos Ayres did you meet a gentleman named Seymour?—I met two of that name, Mr. Walter Seymour and Mr. Richard Seymour.

Did you travel any way with them?—I believe one of them went with me on a trip to Rosario.

And were you and Captain Burton and Maxwell Constable to meet at Cordova?—Yes.

Did Mr. Seymour travel with you to Cordova?—No.

Did you go to Cordova?—Yes.

Did you meet Captain Burton, Mr. Maxwell Constable, and Mr. Richards at Cordova?—No.

Where did you last see any of the Seymours?—At Villa Nuova.

Where is that?—Between fosur hundred and five hundred miles from Rosario.

Which way did you go from Villa Nuova?—Back to Buenos Ayres.

Did you tell Mr. Seymour why you were coming back?—I told him I was not well enough to proceed, and that the diligence had been stopped.

Did you tell him that you had received important letters from home; that the letters recalled you, and that you must return?—No. I told him I had received a letter of great importance from Mr. Matthews.

Didn't you say that you had received letters which recalled you, and that you must return?—Certainly not.

Had Mr. Matthews's letter anything to do with your return?—You can see the letter i you like.

Question repeated.—It had not. I can tell you the substance of it. His Excellency advised me never to go outside the door without being heavily laden with arms— (laughter)—and of course I believe he had grounds for telling me so.

Did you describe the letter from Mr. Matthews as an important letter from home, which obliged you to return?—Certainly not.

In fact, did Mr. Matthews's letter induce you to return?—I don't think it did.

When did you receive the letter?—To the best of my belief it was when I was leaving Rosario for Villa Nuova.

After the receipt of the letter, you went from Rosario to Cordova?—Yes.

Did you say anything to Mr. Seymour about Mr. Matthews's letter?—He was present when I got the letter from Mr. Blunt, a gentleman connected with the Embassy.

Had you written pretty frequently to Mr. Holmes and people here while you were away?—I don't think I wrote to Mr. Holmes at all. Mr. Stevens wrote.

Did you know that Mr. Hall and Mr. Stevens were going to Valparaiso to execute the commission?—Yes.

Might you have written to Mr. Holmes and forgotten that you had done so?—Yes, my memory is in that way that I can't say.

Do you know you had parted with them on the full understanding that you would meet at Chili to confront the witnesses?—Certainly I did.

When you turned back, knowing that your expectation could not be fulfilled, did you write to Stevens to tell him?—I don't think I did.

Can't you tell me for certain?—No.

What is your belief?—My belief is that I did not.

Why won't you swear it?—If I swore it I suppose you would find a letter directly to prove that I did write. (Laughter.)

Then you won't swear?

The Chief-Justice: I don't see why you should press any further to get an answer. The jury can judge from the tone and manner of the answer you get.

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the court reassembling after luncheon, the cross-examination of the claimant by the Solicitor-General was proceeded with. You were perfectly well the night you parted from Mr. Seymour?—Yes; I became ill afterwards.

Did you make one voyage home?—Yes.

Did you make any attempt to go to any other part of Australia?—No.

When did you become aware of the Chilian commission?—I was told of it by one of the passengers on board the steamer.

Did you find that every one of the witnesses said they had known you as Arthur Orton, and not as Roger Tichborne?—I became aware of it through an agent.

Did Mr. Holmes give you any reason for ceasing to act as your attorney?—Well, it might have been because I declined to go out to Australia.

Was it because, after your friends had provided you with money for the purpose of enabling you to go to Chili, you went only as far as Monte Video, and there abandoned the gentleman who went with you on your behalf, and returned to England?—I don't recollect sufficiently to give an answer. I know that three mouths' bills were raised for me at the rate of 200 per cent.

When did you see Mr. Holmes last?—Well, he spoke to me yesterday; that was the first time since he ceased to act as my attorney.

Did Mr. Holmes attend the meeting of which Mr. Scott has given an account, and which was held at Mr. Rouse's?—Yes.

Did you give to the gentlemen assembled there the same account you have given why you did not go to Chili and Australia?—I believe I did.

Did you give Mr. Hall or Mr. Stevens any reason for not going?—As to Mr. Hall, I have not spoken to him since.

You did not write to them after you got to Cordova?—No; I heard that the commission was nearly over then.

You left them, in fact, to fight the battle the best way they could?—Yes.

Before you parted with Hall and Stevens had you told them what your account was about your being a fortnight or three weeks in Mellipilla?—They received instructions before they went as to that.

Did you give them a narrative of your life in Chili?—No; we never spoke of business on board ship.

Did you give Mr. Holmes any recollections of your life in Chili?—You have got all that in the affidavits.

Did you give him the names of the different persons there to whom you wished to be remembered?—The probability is that I did.

Cannot you recollect?—It is impossible to remember everything.

I want to know if you gave Mr. Holmes, before Hall and Stevens went out, any account of the relations you had with the different people in Chili?—I won't s'wear it, but the probability is that I did so.

You have read some part of the Chilian commission?—Yes.

Had the account which you have given us here been furnished by Mr. Hall before he examined the witnesses?—I believe it had.

Give me some better account of Mellipilla. Does it stand on a hill or in a plain?— I don't remember any hills being near to it.

What is the population?—About 200 or 300, I should say.

Is it a scattered village or are the houses collected together —I can't say much about it. I was only there but a very short time. To the best of my recollection, the houses were few and far about.

Were there gardens?—Yes.

And trees?—I don't recollect.

Was there a stream of water running through the town?—I don't remember any stream there.

Was there a church?—Yes, I think so.

In a square or plaza?—I don't remember.

What was the place where the band used to play?—I don't remember any band playing there.

Did you ever learn from Arthur Orton that he had been at Melipilla?—No; I think not.

Or in Chili?—Yes; I think he said he had been there.

You were in Melipilla and the neighbourhood a good portion of the time you were in Chili?—Yes; I think so.

Did you ever discuss Mellipilla matters with Arthur Orton?—No; I think not. I remember his saying that he was at Valparaiso.

Did you often talk about Chili?—No; but very seldom.

Was it a subject he wished to avoid?—He seldom spoke about it.

You heard him say he had been there?—Yes.

He only knew you under the name of Castro?—That's all.

Did you ever tell him how you came to bear that name?—No, I think not. He knew it was not my real name just before starting.

Did he not ask why you had adopted it?—No, I think not.

Did he know that you had been in Chili?—Yes, I think so.

Did you tell him?—I don't remember.

Could he have known it from any one else?—I think ho must have known it.

And from you?—Very probably he did.

Although both of you had been there, you did not have much talk about it?—No.

Who received your letters for you after you left England for Rio?—Well, I gave Mr. Rouse authority to open them, which he did, and supplied the contents to the other side. He pretended to be a great friend, but was not so.

What address did you leave when you went abroad?—My own, in Broad-street, Alresford.

Were you adverse to going to Chili?—Yes.

Did you say to several people—amongst others, to Colonel Lushington—that you would not go to Valparaiso?—I believe I did. I promised Mr. Marks and Mr. Scott that I would come back as soon as I got to Lisbon; and I should have done so had I been well enough. It was against the wish of my friends that I left England at all.

When was that promise given?—The day before we started.

Did you let Mr. Holmes know of it?—I don't think I did. There were two medical gentlemen who gave certificates to the effect that it was dangerous for me to leave England at the time.

Who were those gentlemen?—Doctors Lipscombe and Covey.

When did you get those certificates?—A day or two previous to my leaving. They were shown to counsel.

When did you leave?—On the 9th of September.

Did the illness supervene at that time?—No, I had been ill for some time previously to that.

On the 3rd of September you swore that the leading counsel had said it was necessary and proper you should go?—Yes, I think so.

Have you got the certificates?—No, I have not seen them since.

I should like to see them.—Well, I have not got them, but I will ask Mr. Holmes's clerk to produce them.

[The certificates were not produced.]

Did you obtain the certificates between the 3rd and the 9th September?—I can't remember.

Upon the affidavit I find that the execution of the commission was postponed till March. Am I to understand that between the 3rd and the 9th September you obtained certificates stating that it would be unsafe for you to go?—I have no memory on the subject.

Did you obtain the certificates between these times?—No, I think not. I am under the impression that it was before that period.

And in spite of those certificates you determined to go?—Yes; but I intended to come back from Lisbon if possible. All my things were on board the steamer. I thought no more of the affidavit than that it was a formal document.

Did you know for what purpose it was wanted?—No; I had no idea. I mighyt have been told at the time, but I have no recollection. I thought that my health would demand my coming back from Lisbon.

The Chief-Justice: Then why didn't you tell Mr. Hall and Mr. Stevens so before they started?—I might have told them, but I have no recollection of it.

The Solicitor- General: From what were you suffering at the time;—Erysipelas.

This is your letter, dated 12th September:—

Ship Oneida, near Lisbon.

Dear Rous,—So far we have had most lovely weather. I have been very well. The erysipelas has entirely disappeared. Stevens and Mr. Hall are both quite well; in fact, every one on board. She is a very fine ship; every comfort that is required.

I suppose the illness came on afterwards?—I can't remember.

Were you so ill at Lisbon that you could not return?—Well, tnere was some reason why I did not come back. ...

The Chief-Justice: What was the reason?—Well, I think I had erysipelas m my legs. I believe Mr. Scott has a letter in which I stated my reasons why I did not go back.

The Chief Justice: Does the letter recall to your mind any reason why you did not return? Yes; some of my luggage was down below and could not be got at.

Or else you would have returned from Lisbon?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General: Look at the letter yourself, and see if you can find a hint of your coming back. Now I will finish the letter.

Dear Rous,—I trust entirely to you to look after my dear wife and children in my absence. Do all you can to assure her. Give my kind regards to Mrs. and Miss Rous and the boys, Mr. and Mrs. Huggins, and all friends I have left behind. I will write again from Rio, and let you know the remainder of the journey.

Had you made up your mind not to return when you wrote that letter?—Yes; it was written shortly before we got to Lisbon.

Had you inquired about your luggage?—Most decidedly, but I can t say whether that was before I wrote the letter.

The Chief-Justice: Were passengers discharged at Lisbon?—Yes, but they were only booked as far as there.

The Solicitor-General: The letter was written on the 12th September?—Yes, the night before we arrived, on the 13th.

Could you not have ordered your luggage to have been sent back from Rio, so that you might have returned to England?—Well, I might have done that, but I had a bed made up in the saloon, so that I must have been ill.

Was there a meeting of your friends at Alresford after you came back?—Yes.

Was Mr. Scott in the chair?—Yes.

Were Mr. Guildford Onslow, Colonel Lushington, Mr. Norris, Mr. Bulpit, Mr. Hinxton, and Mr. Holmes there?—Yes.

Did Mr. Holmes give the effect of the Chili evidence?—I think he spoke about it.

From whom did you receive a copy of the evidence?—From Mr. Holmes.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to any evidence being given of what took place at their meeting, which was, in point of fact, private and confidential.

After some discussion the objection was withdrawn, and

The Chief-Justice intimated that it was a matter scarcely worth contesting at this stage of the trial.

The Solicitor-General: I will merely read what Mr. Scott has said about it, and ask the plaintiff if his evidence is correct. (Reading.) Is that correct?—Not quite. I think Mr. Marx was not there; neither was the Chilian evidence read in my presence.

Were you asked to account for abandoning your counsel in South America, and coming home?—I cannot say whether I was or not, but very probably I was.

What reason did you give?—I spoke the truth, and if I said anything it would be the same as I have told you.

Was it on account of your health?—Well, that had a good deal to do with it. I think I assigned my health as a reason, but I do not remember.

Were there some letters produced at the meeting by Mr. Holmes from Mrs. Tredgett and Mrs. Jury?—I don't remember.

Were there any letters produced which you had sent to those persons?—Yes.

Have you got them?—No.

Were they in your handwriting?—Yes, they were.

Did you say they were not?—Yes, I did.

Do you know who has them now?—I can't say.

Did you see what became of them?—I did not.

Has Mr. Holmes got them?—I can't say.

Why did you say they were not in your handwriting?—Because I thought I should lose my friends if I said that they were.

The Solicitor-General called for the letters to be produced, and they were handed to the learned gentleman.

The Solicitor-General: Here is one which I will read to you.

Gravesend, Jan. 7, 1867.

Dear Madam—I received your kind letter this morning, and am very sorry to think you should be so mistake to think i am your brother, he is a very great friend of mine, and one who i regard as a brother, and have likewise promised to send him all the information I can about his family, i cannot call on you at present, but I will do so before long. I send your sister a likeness of your brother's wife and child this morning, and should have sent you one, but I have only one left, which i require for copying. I shall have likewise one of himself, which i intend to get some copy of; i will then send you some of each. My future address will be R. C. T., Post Office, Liverpool. Hoping to have the pleasure of making your, the acquaintance of my friend's sister before long, I remain yours respectful,

W. H. STEVENS.

Is that in your handwriting?—Yes.

To whom was it addressed?—I can't say. It was to whoever wrote to me.

Cannot you recollect?—To Mrs. Jury, I think.

Who was she?—Arthur Orton's sister.

Is the letter written in your natural hand?—No, I think not.

Then it is a feigned hand?—Yes.

And signed by you " W. H. Stevens?"—Yes.

It alludes to a " kind letter " which had been sent to you. Have you got that?—

Where is it?—I destroyed it at the time.

Did she address you as W. H. Stevens?—No, I think not.

Where was the letter sent to you?—At Gravesend.

Was it a kind letter?—I think so.

Why did she write to you first?—I think it was on account of seeing my arrival announced in the newspapers. There were several paragraphs in the paper at the time. The name of Castro was mentioned, I believe.

Who was W. H. Stevens: Why did you take his name?—I can't say. I merely wished to find out what I wanted to know, and have nothing more to do with them.

Was Stevens a Fenian reporter?—I can't say whether he was or not' or whether he was not a spy sent out by your side to watch me. (Laughter.)

Where did you fall in with him?—In New York.

And you came home with him?—Yes; or, rather, he with me.

How came you to take his name?—I can't tell. It was a mere matter of convenience.

You say " a great friend of mine "—quite a brother, I suppose he was. You knew Orton's address at that time?—Yes.

And you sent him all the information you could?—I don't think I did.

Did you correspond with him?—Yes; I think I sent him one letter.

Was he married?—No, I think not.

Now, be careful. Was not the photograph which you sent to the sister of Orton as that of his wife and child in reality the portrait of your own wife and child?—Yes.

Is that it (produced)?—Yes, it is something like it.

Ihere is the likeness of your wife, or rather. Lady Tichborne?—Yes.

And this is the heir?—No, that is a little girl.

Then the letter was in a feigned hand?—Yes.

Why did you send the sister a photograph of your own wife and child?—Well, they were bothering me to send them a photograph: and, as I had got one of my wife, I thought I would send them that just to quiet them; but I didn't think they would retaliate as they have. (Laughter.)

Orton, in reality, had no wife and child?—No.

Then you described your own wife and child as those of Arthur Orton? Yes.

What does this mean, " I should send you, but I have only one left, which I require for copying?"—It was absurd of me, no doubt, to say so—just as absurd as the other parts of the letter.

Why did you write it?—It appears to me that I have written nothing but nonsense in my time.

The Solicitor-General: I will not do you that injustice myself. Now, when you said you required the copy for the purpose of copying, you meant it as a kind of flourish?—Just so.

Had you a portrait of yourself which you intended to get copied?—No, I had not.

Have you not got a likeness of Arthur Orton?—No, I have not.

That is most curious. Not a photograph of Orton, or. rather, of yourself?—No.

Might you not have spoken of it as Arthur Orton's?—Certainly not.

Had you a photograph of yourself, and known as Arthur Orton's?—No, I have said so before.

Then the only photograph you had, which you alluded to, if anything, was a photograph of yourself?—Yes.

And was that the only one, the one to which you referred in your letter?—No, I did not say so.

Then you told an untruth when you said you had a photograph of Orton's wife and child?—Yes.

What was the object of your telling an untruth?—I can't say. Most likely I had some object, but I don't recollect now.

You wrote the letter in the name of Stevens?—Yes, in answer to one of hers.

Why did you write such a statement as that?—I am sure I can't say why I wrote it.

Or why you assumed the name of Stevens?—It appears so—from the letter.

Was that the first time you assumed the name of Stevens?—Perhaps not.

Do you mean to say you cannot tell whether your first letter was written in the name of Stevens?—It might have been.

Was it?—I cannot tell, I am sure.

Here is another letter. Did you write that (produced)?—Yes.

The letter was as follows:—

December 25, 1866.

Dear Madam,—Would you kindly inform the lady for whom I left the letter that if she will kindly communicate with me at once she will hear of something to her advantage. Please send what information she can concerning a Miss Loder and her own family, and what became of her brother Thomas's children.—I remain, yours respectful,

W. H. STEVENS.

Address R. C. T., Post Office, Gravesend, and they will be forwarded.

Was that written to the same person as the first letter was?—Yes, I think so.

Now attend to this: You say, " Dear Madam, I received your kind letter this morning, and very sorry to think you should be so mistake to think I am your brother." Upon your oath, was not the letter written after she had recognised you as Arthur Orton?—I think not.

Will you swear it?—No, I will not.

There was another letter, which you have destroyed?—Yes.

Upon your oath, was there not a letter written after she had recognised you as her brother Arthur Orton?—I think not.

Will you swear it—between the two letters I have read?—I don't understand what you mean?

Will you swear there was not a letter acknowledging you as her brother, and which you have destroyed?—No, not between the two.

The Chief-Justice: Or before the second letter was Written?—No doubt of it.

The Solicitor-General: And that you have destroyed?—Yes.

Did she not recognise you by your handwriting?—Not by that.

Did she not recognise you as her brother Arthur Orton?—No, not by the writing.

That you swear?—Yes, that I swear. I think she asked me the question in consequence of a letter of Mr. Richardson's, and from what she saw in the papers.

Did she say you were her brother?—She said she thought I might be.

Upon what did she ground that supposition? She knew you were not W. H. Stevens?—She did not recognise me by my handwriting, certainly.

Upon your oath, do you not know that she recognised you by that?—Upon my oath, I do not.

Then every word of the letter which I have read is false?—Certainly not every word.

The Solicitor-General: It is now four o'clock, my lord, and I have several letters to read on the subject upon which I am now cross-examining the witness. It will be most unfortunate to adjourn now.

The Jury: We are willing to remain if your lordship pleases.

The Chief-Justice: This is a most important part just now, and I think it will be better if we continue for some little time, certainly.

The Solicitor-General: The 25th of December was the very day you landed in England?—Yes.

Who was the lady for whom you left the letter?—Who was the lady?

Yes. Answer the question.—It was addressed to Miss Orton.

And who was the person to whom you addressed the letter of the 25th of December?—You mean the 26th.

It is the 25th. You have not lost your head, certainly?—There is an error in the date.

Who is the person referred to when you say, " If she will kindly communicate with me at once she will hear of something to her advantage"?—To the person for whom I left the letter.

Who answered it?— I don't know it was ever answered.

Will you swear that?—I can't say whether it was or not.

No answer to that letter?—No, I think not.

What does this-mean: " I received your kind letter this morning"? From whom did that letter come?—Another party altogether.

From whom?— From Mrs. Captain Jury, as they call her.

Another sister of Orton's?—Yes.

Was the letter you destroyed sent by her?—Yes.

How came she to write to you?—I have told you. It was on account of what appeared in the papers.

Did you have any communication from the lady for whom you left the letter?—I think not.

Will you swear not—the letter addressed to Miss Orton I mean?—No, not for a long time afterwards.

What do you mean by that?—A couple of months, perhaps.

You were not at Gravesend for a couple of months?—It has nothing to do with Gravesend.

The Chief-Justice: Which of the sisters was it who recognised you?

The Claimant: It was the other one, my lord, who asked if I was her brother

The Solicitor-General: What did you mean by saying you were sorry to think she should have been mistaken in thinking you were her brother? How came she to take vou for her brother?—As I have already explained, it was on account of the letter signed " Castro" which appeared in the papers.

And thereupon she wrote to you as her brother?—No; she wrote and asked the question.

No, no.—There is no "no" in it.—I tell you it was so.

The letter is in your handwriting, not hers. How came she to write to the effect that you were her brother?—Well, she did it, I suppose, on her own account.

Then, why, in the name of sense and honesty, did you not tell her that there was a mistake, instead of sending to her a photograph of your own wife and child as the wife and child of her brother, Arthur Orton?—I had promised to send her a photograph.

Why did you tell her you had sent her a photograph of Orton's wife and child, and would send her one of yourself when it was copied?—No doubt it was indiscreet on my part to do so.

Why did you not go down to her personally and say, " You see I am not your brother "?—I don't know that I had any obiection to doing so. but I never thought of it..

And you preferred telling a tissue of falsehoods instead of going down to see her?— You have no right to say that.

Didn't you tell her a tissue of falsehoods?—I can't help that.

The Chief-Justice: Is there a single word of truth in your letter, or is it false from beginning to end?—It is all false.

Just look at it again.—Well, it is true that her brother was a great friend of mine, and I promised to send her any information I could about him.

Is there any other part of the letter that is true?— That is about all, I think.

The Solicitor-General: Then one of the letters to which Sir. Scott referred was stated at the meeting to be a forgery?—Yes.

And you said that it was?—I did.

And that you knew was a lie?—Yes.

To which of the sisters did you intend sending a portrait of Orton's wife and child?—Mrs. Tredgett, I think they called her.

What do you call her?—I do not know. I think her name was Tredgett or Tredgate; I don't know her proper name.

You don't know the proper name of the person to whom you were about to send portraits of Arthur Orton's wife and child, meaning thereby your own wife and child?—No, I don't remember; but I think it was Tredgett.

Now, who is Miss Loder, to whom reference is made in your letter?—Who is she?

Yes.—Why, she was some connection of Orion's, I suppose.

You promised to make inquiries about her. You got her name from Orton, then?—Yes.

What inquiries were you to make respecting her?—All the inquiries I could, and let her know the result. He gave me a letter of introduction to one of his sisters.

To Mrs. Tredgett?—Yes.

Miss Loder, the person referred to, was here ushered into the Court, and placed opposite to the claimant.

The Solicitor-General: Is that Miss Loder?—I can't say.

Will you swear it?—I can't say that she is.

Upon your oath, were you not engaged to that young woman yourself?—No, I was not.

Have you ever seen her before?—Yes; but not until I saw her in the company of Detective Whicher at Croydon. That was the first time I ever saw her.

And that you swear?—And that I swear to my God.

Is that as true as the letters?—I have told you the truth about them. I am oil my oath, and I tell you that I never saw that person till I saw her in the company of Whicher.

Did you find out any particulars about Miss Loder?—No, I did not.

Did you get any information respecting her?—No, I did not.

Did anybody else get any for you?—Not that I am aware of.

Don't you know?—They did not.

Did you send any account to Arthur Orton about Miss Loder?—No, I did not. I was so engrossed in ray own business that I had not time to make inquiries.

Who was the brother Thomas about whom you inquired?—You asked what had become of his children. Was he another of the Ortons?—I suppose it must be so.

And did you ascertain anything about his family?—No, nothing at all.

The Solicitor-General: My lord, I have several other letters bearing upon this part of the trial, but I really feel that I cannot go on any longer.

The Chief-Justice: Then let the trial be adjourned. (To the Claimant.) You say that the handwriting of these letters was feigned?—Yes; they are in a feigned hand, my lord.

The Court then rose.

[Prince Christian occupied a seat on the bench during the proceedings.]

THIRTIETH DAY.—FRIDAY, JUNE 23.

TWENTY-NINTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Chief-Justice, addressing the Solicitor-General, said: Before you proceed I wish to hand counsel on both sides a communication I have received from a nobleman in France. It may throw some light one way or another. The letter was given to counsel.

The Claimant's cross-examination, by the Solicitor-General, was then continued: Just tell me how soon after the receipt of the letter about which I examined you yesterday did you call on Mrs. Jury?—Which letter?

The letter in which you say you will call on her before long.—I did not call on her at all.

Did you call on any of Orton's sisters?—Yes; I called on Mrs. Tredgett and Mrs. Jury with my attorney.

Which Mrs. Jury?—Not the one I wrote the letter to. Not Mrs. Captain Jury who wrote the letter.

When was that?—If you look at the affidavit you will find the date.

Can't you tell me how soon after the letter?—If the date is there can't you see it?

Don't ask me questions. About what date was it?—About twelve months after.

Had you communications with them between?—Yes.

Sent them money?—Yes, I let them have money.

Did you let them have money before they made their affidavits?—I can t say; I think I did.

Have you any doubt?—Considering you won't let me look at the date, how can I tell?

Independently of the date, have you any doubt you did?—Yes, I think I did.

Was there a brother of Arthur Orton?—Yes.

Did you give him money before he made an affidavit?—I am not aware he made any affidavit.

Before he made any statement?—Yes, I think I did.

How did you send the money to them? Did you give it to them with your own hands?—No, I sent it by letter.

In cheques?—In cheques and notes.

Did Charles Orton correspond with you in the name of Brand?—He did in the latter part.

What do you mean?—In the beginning of 1868.

The Chief-Justice: Who used the name of Brand.

The Claimant: He did, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: Did you address him as Brand?

The Solicitor-General: I am coming to that, my lord. Have you got the cheques?— No.

You have the means of getting them?—Yes.

Whom do you draw upon when you issue cheques?—Upon what bank do you mean?

Yes.—I don't remember.

Did you send cheques to the sisters?—I did not. I sent bank notes.

You paid Charles Orton by cheque?—I sent him one cheque.

Who were your bankers?—Bullpit and Hall, in Alresford, and Mr. Robinson, of the Union Bank in Croydon.

The Solicitor-General: We give you notice we want that cheque.

Mr. Giffard: At present I don't produce it. I don't know what the practice of that bank may be. They may keep cheques for aught I know.

The Solicitor-General: Every man can have his cheques. On the 3rd of May, this year, we served notice for the production of the plaintiff's diarios, cheques, counterfoils, and so on.

The Claimant: Who was the notice served on?

The Solicitor-General: Baxter, Rose, and Norton.

The Chief-Justice: If the cheques are not here the counterfoils may be.

Mr. Giffard: No, my lord; if they are found they shall be produced.

The Claimant: I never had any notice.

The Solicitor-General: Have you got the pass-book?—No.

Had you one?—Yes; of both banks.

What has become of them?—I don't know.

Don't know where your bankers' pass-book is? Can't you tell where it is?—It has been knocking about for some time. I haven't banked with them for a long time.

But you must have it somewhere?—No doubt I have.

Then you'll let us have it. Did you get receipts for the money sent to Arthur Orion's sisters and brother?—Yes.

Where are they?—They are destroyed. I have some letters.

What letters have you?—Letters from Mrs. Jury; but I don't think they go back to that date. I believe I sent money to one sister and to the brother.

To which sister?—To neither of the Mrs. Jurys.

To Mrs. Tredgett?—Yes.

Was she living in the same house as one of the Jurys?—I believe she was.

Which?—With Mrs. Captain Jury.

With the Mrs. Jury you first wrote to?—I never wrote to the other Mrs. Jury at all

To whom did you write?—To Mrs. Captain Jury and Mrs. Tredgett.

Have you got any of the letters Charles Orton sent to you in the name of Brand?— No.

What has become of them?—I destroyed them.

You'll swear that?—Yes.

Don't you know, sir, that some of those letters were given to Mr. Holmes?—If so, then, of course, Mr Holmes has got them.

The Solicitor-General: I call for them.

Mr. Holmes intimated that he had only one.

The Solicitor-General: Then let us have that one.

Mr Giffard: It must be produced in the usual way.

The Chief-Justice: Either Mr. Holmes is acting for the plaintiff or he is independent.

Mr. Giffard: Independent, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: He is sitting under you. We ought to understand whether documents in his possession might also be said to be in possession of the claimant.

Mr. Giffard: They are not.

The Solicitor-General: I call on Mr. Holmes under subpœna to produce the document.

Mr Giffard: I object to its being done. You might as well ask me to hand my brief to the defendant's agents. What I object to is Mr. Holmes being appealed to and not myself.

The Chief-Justice: It is a matter of form.

Mr. Giffard: I assure your lordship it is not. There are some things to the production of which I shall object.

The Solicitor-General: I did not intend any disconrtesy in appealing to Mr. Holmes. I have instructions, which may or may not be correct, that there is more than one letter in Mr. Holmes's possession signed Brand. Under Mr. Holmes's subpœna I call for all letters so signed.

The Chief-Justice: Let Mr. Holmes stand up.

(Mr. Holmes complied.)

The Solicitor-General: Do you produce the rest of the letters signed Brand, or purporting to come from Brand, and addressed to the plaintiff or Lady Tichborne?

Mr. Holmes: No, I dont' produce any.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter addressed to Lady Tichborne. (It has no date nor signature):—

Mellon Grounds, Martin Road, Peckham.

Madam—I have taken the liberty of writing to you to ask if Sir R. C. D. Tichborne left a message for a party of the name of Brand before he went away. If he has, I should feel much obliged if you would forward them to the above address, as I think it is strange he did not answer the two letters I wrote to him before he went. Please to burn this as soon as you have read it.

Had you several letters before from Charles Orton under the name of Brand?—Yes.

What allowance had you been making him?—For two or three months I gave him £5 a month.

What did you allow the other relations? What did you allow Mrs. Tredgett?—I made no allowance. Whenever they wrote to me to say they were in distress I used to send them something.

You say they were in distress. Had Mrs. Tredgett any other means of subsistence besides what you allowed her?—I can't say. I know nothing about her affairs.

Do you swear that?—I do positively. I haven't the slightest idea any more than you.

How much did you send her?—I never sent her more than £5 at a time.

How often did you send?—I should think I gave the brother and sister between £30 and £40 altogether.

You mean to swear you never gave the other sisters any money at all?—Yes.

Did you ever see that before (card produced)?—What is it? There is " Mr. Williams H. Stephens" on it, and there is also the word " Australia." I can't say I ever saw it in my life. "Australia" looks very much like my writing, but I don't think it is.

Whose handwriting is " W. H. Stephens in?—I should think it would be Stephens's.

Did you have anything to do with the card before? Did you ever see it?—I have no remembrance. I may have.

Did you receive it from Stephens, or did you write it yourself?—It is not in my handwriting.

Look at the signature of the two letters signed " William H. Stephens" (letters handed to witness). Is it like that?—No.

Does it look as if it had been imitated?—Good gracious me! No.

We'll see in a minute. Did you leave the card at Mrs. Pardon's?—I don't know who she is at this moment.

That you swear?—Yes; without it is the person I went to to inquire about the Ortons.

You swear that you don't know that the person to whom you went to inquire about the Ortons was Mrs. Pardon, do you?—Yes. I don't know for certain. You can stop this if you tell me it is the person. I don't know anybody else it could be.

Were you sent to a Mrs. Pardon's house?—Yes.

Did you leave that card, " William H. Stephens, Australia," with the person to whose house you went to inquire about the Ortons?—I believe I left a card. I don't know about the word " Australia."

Do you believe that to be the card?—I have no reason to doubt it.

The Chief-Justice: Is that your handwriting on the card.

The Claimant: " Wm. H. Stephens" is in my handwriting. The word " Australia" is similar to mine.

The Solicitor-General: What do you believe about it?— I can't say.

You won't swear one way or the other?—I won't swear one way or the other about handwriting.

The Chief-Justice: You are not asked to swear to handwriting. You are asked to swear to your belief.

The Claimant (again looking at the card): I believe it is mine.

The Solicitor-General: Well, now, do you believe you left that card yourself at the house of the person to whom you went to inquire for the Ortons?—Very probably I did.

When?—On the 26th December, 1866.

The day after you landed?—Yes.

Where did you call?—I don't know where the address was.

Whereabouts?—It was somewhere not far from the Victoria Docks.

Mrs. Pardon was the person with whom you left that card, and the first of the letters I examined you about yesterday?—Yes.

Did she live in Painton-terrace, East India-road?—I have no doubt that is the address.

You saw her, did you?—Yes.

Did you ask her for the address of Miss Mary Ann Orton?—Yes, I believe so.

Did she tell you, among other things, that Miss Mary Ann Orton was married, and that her name was Tredgett?—Yes.

Did she say, after talking to you for some time, " You're wonderfully like the Orton family. You must be Mrs. Tredgett's brother "?—Certainly not.

That you are positive of?—Yes.

The lady for whom you left the letter with Mrs. Pardon was Arthur Orton's sister?—Yes.

And you said she would hear something to her advantage if she communicated with you?—Yes, I believe so.

Now, do you. mean to swear Mrs Pardon did not tell you that you were an Orton, and the brother of Miss Mary Ann Orton, or Mrs Tredgett? I positively swear she said nothing of the kind.

Didn't she say to you after some little time, " Why, you must be; you're so like old Mr. George Orton"?—Certainly not.

Did you know Arthur Orton's father's name was George?—I believe I have heard.

Did you say, " No, only a friend"?—No.

Did you say, " I am a reporter from one of the Australian papers, and my commission is to go to Ireland and report on the Fenians"? W. H. Stephens was a, Fenian, you know?—I might have said that, but there was nothing about the Orton family.

Did you say, " I am a friend of Mary Ann Orton's brother, who is one of the richest men in Australia"?—No.

Anything like it?—No.

Did you show her the photograph of a woman and a baby in a locket?—I don't remember doing so.

Will you swear you don't?—I will.

Had you got a photograph of a woman and child in a gold locket, or a locket that looked like gold?—I had, but I can't say I had it on then; in fact, I am positive I hadn't.

Was the photograph of the woman and child that you had in the locket the photograph of your wife and child?—Yes.

Will you swear that you didn't show Mrs. Pardon—the person to whom yon went to ascertain Mary Ann Orton's address—the photograph of your wife and child as the photograph of the wife and child of Arthur Orton?—I'll swear I did not.

You wrote several letters to Mrs. Jury. Is this your letter?

July 11, 1868, Broad-street, Alresford, Hants.

Dear Madam,—I have just received your letter, and hasten to reply to the same. I received a letter from your husband, Captain Jury, but, not knowing his handwriting, I did not know whether it was high trick of my enemies or not; therefore I did not answer it. I have not heard from your brother Arthur since, but have inserted advertisements in the Australian papers for him. I have had an interview with Captain Angel and your brother Charles, in the presents of Colonel Lushington and Mr. Holmes. It appears the solicitor on the other side got Captain Angel to make an affidavit before he left England on his last voyage, that my photograph was a photograph of your brother Arthur; but since he has seen me he is convinced to the contrary, and is going to make an affidavit in my favour, and your brother also. I shall be in town next week, and will call upon you. Your sisters have been very kind to me, and they must have gone thro much annoyance on my account. I have sent you by this post a copy of the affidavits. I have no doubt you will be visited by detectives as soon as it is known you are in England.

There the letter breaks off abruptly.

Here is another:—

Alresford, July 15, 1861.

Dear Madam,—I shall be at my solicitor's to-morrow, about eleven o'clock, and should have great pleasure in meeting you there. If you cannot meet me, write to me there, and let me know where you can meet mo, and when. Lady Tichborne thanks you kindly for your kind wishes.—I remain, your truly,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Did you often see the sisters?—Only on one occasion, in the presence of my solicitor.

Was this after you made the appointment mentioned in the letter?—Yes.

Had you many letters from them?—Yes; I had a good few from them.

From all three?—No; I told you before one sister never wrote to me at all. I only remember two.

What has become of those letters?—They are in the possession of my attorney, I suppose.

When did you receive them?—At various periods.

When you landed in 1866 you made an appointment to meet one of them. Which of them?—Mrs. Captain Jury.

Then from the time you landed in 1866 till 1868, you had never seen either of them?—No.

There are three sisters—Mrs. Tredgett and two Mrs. Jurys?—Yes.

From which of the sisters had you received letters between 1866 and 1868—From Mrs. Captain Jury and Mrs. Tredgett.

Were all these letters handed to Mr. Holmes?—No; I destroyed all the letters received from them up to the time I went to South America with the commission.

Did you destroy other letters?—Oh yes, a great many others.

Did you keep some?—Yes.

Why did you destroy the letters?—I wasn't aware they would be of any use.

Did you consider the letters of Orton's sister of any importance?—None whatever.

Mrs. Tredgett, you know, you supplied from time to time witn money. Didn't you consider it of importance to keep her letters?—No.

Were there any letters read at the meeting at which Mr. Scott was in the chair, except the two letters I read yesterday?—I think not.

Was there more than one letter which purported to be written by you read at the meeting at which Mr. Scott was chairman?—I can't say.

The Solicitor-General here read part of Mr. Scott's evidence, in which that gentleman stated that two letters which were supposed to be forgeries were produced by Mr. Holmes.

What has become of them?—I can't sa. I gave them into the custody of Mr. Moojen.

Have you seen them since?—No.

You kept them until Mr. Moojen became your solicitor?—Yes.

Were those letters signed Stevens?—No.

Did you deny they were written by you?—Yes, I did.

Had you written other letters at that time under the signature " Wm. H. Stevens?"—I can't say.

Will you swear you had not?—No.

Will you swear there were not other letters under the signature read at the meeting?—No.

What has become of them?—I don't know.

Did they pass into your possession or Mr. Holmes?—Not into mine.

Did you instruct your advisers that those letters, which you suggested to be forgeries, were in your own handwriting?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I object to the question. This purports to be an instruction given by the plaintiff to his attorney in the progress of the case. My learned friend might just as well ask what are in the briefs handed over to counsel. It is a grave point, and I should think the Solicitor-General will not press it.

The Chief-Justice: It is a question as to the bona fides of the attorney or the plaintiff.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The broad question is that no communication made by the client to the attorney is evidence in the cause.

The Solicitor-General: It is a question whether the advisers of the plaintiff did or did not know this was a gross fraud, and were proceeding on it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: My learned friend, instead of replying to me, talks about " gross fraud." I utterly deny the " gross fraud;" and, with regard to the objection, it appears my learned friend cannot answer it.

The Solicitor-General (to the claimant): Did you ever tell any human being, except Mr. Moojen and Mr. Holmes, that what you stated at the meeting of your friends was a falsehood?—I have an impression I told somebody else.

Have you any impression as to who that " somebody else" is?—No.

Did yon ever tell Mr Scott?—I don't believe I did.

Don't you know whether you told him or not?—My answer is, I don't believe I did.

Did you leave Mx. Scott to come into this court, and give his evidence in this case, under the impression that the letters which you have denied to be yours were really yours?—Yes, I think so.

Did you hear Mr. Scott's evidence?—No.

Did you read it?—I don't know.

Did you leave Mr. Scott in utter ignorance of the falsehoed you told at the meeting of which he was chairman?—I believe so.

Did you communicate to Mr. Baigent that what you had stated at the meeting was a falsehood, or not?—I can't say.

Did you tell Mr. Guilford Onslow?—I can't say.

You have been in constant communication with Mr. Guilford Onslow?—Yes; I breakfasted with him this morning.

Well, you can hardly have forgotten having told him that what you said was false or not?—I can't tell.

The Solicitor-General: Did you tell Colonel Lushington?—I am sure I did not.

Mr. Marks?—He was not at the meeting.

Mr. Hingaton?—He was not at the meeting either.

Did you ever from any other gentleman obtain money after this meeting for the purpose of advancing this suit? Did Mr. Scott give money after that?—Yes, I believe Le did.

Did Mr. Guilford Onslow?—I am under the impression he did.

Have any of them given you money for any other purpose except litigation?—Mr. Scott has.

Any of the others?—No.

What is Mr. Bullpit?—He is a banker at Winchester.

Have you had advances from him since that?—I think not.

Can't you tell?—He has not.

You remember Cater's affidavit?—Yes.

Did you know any man named Elfield at WaggaWagga?—No. I might know the man, but I don't know the name.

Did you tell Cater before he made his affidavit that the person he knew as Elfield at Wagga Wagga was really Arthur Orton?—Certainly not. I never heard of the name Elfield before.

Didn't Cater tell you that there was a man living at Higgins's passing under the name of Elfield whom he knew, and did you not tell him he was Arthur Orton?— I think not.

Will you swear it?—I don't know any man named Elfield.

That is not the question.—I will swear I did not.

Did you tell Mr. Cater before he made his affidavit that Arthur Orton was really living at Wagga Wagga under another name?—I don't think I did.

Will you swear you didn't?—I don't see how it was possible I could.

Never mind what was possible, and answer my question.—I don't think I did.

Will you swear you did not?—No. How could I swear to a conversation which took place two or three years ago?

Did he not say to you that a man of some other name than Arthur Orton was living at Higgins's?—I don't remember any conversation about it.

Did you have a conversation with him?—Considering that he was in my house for a week, I must have had.

On this?—Probably I had.

I again ask you whether you did not tell him that the person who was at Higgins's under another name was really Arthur Orton?—No. A letter from Mr. Rous to Mr. Cater explains that.

(Mr. Serjeant Ballantine undertook to produce the letter if the solicitor succeeded in finding it.)

The Solicitor-General: You told me some time ago you had never gone under any name except Tichborne, Castro, and for a short time, Morgan. When did you go as Morgan?—When I was at the Yarra-Yarra station.

How did you get that name?—It was the hrst that came. I can't tell my reason.

Were you going under the name of Castro at the time?—Yes.

What made you take Castro and drop Morgan?—I decline to answer the question.

Why?—Because it might have a tendency to criminate myself.

The Chief-Justice: Do you mean in the sense that it would render you liable to a criminal prosecution?

The Claimant: Yes, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Is it a separate matter from that about which he refused to rive an answer the other day?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You need not answer that.

The Chief-Justice: The Solicitor-General has a right to put the most direct question. He might ask, " Did you commit murder?"

The Solicitor-General (to the Claimant): Is the crime an answer respecting which you think would criminate you different from that in respect of which you claimed privilege yesterday?—I decline to answer the question.

The Chief-Justice: Why?

The Claimant: It might lead to others, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: If you think it would lead to a chain which would criminate you, you are at liberty to decline. However, if, on the other hand, it led to innocent matters, your objection would not hold good.

The Solicitor-General: Is the question in respect of which you decline to give an answer, on the ground that it would criminate you, the same as that on which you have already claimed privilege?—Yes, it is.

The Chief-Justice: Then, what made you decline to answer?

The Claimant: Because I didn't rightly understand, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Was Arthur Orton in the same place as yon were when you changed your name from Castro to Morgan?—He was; just previous.

Was Arthur Orton accused of any crime at that time?—He was.

Of what?—Bushranging.

What is bushranging?—I suppose you would call a bushranger a highwayman here.

Was he accused of anything worse than bushranging?—Not to my knowledge.

Was he accused of shooting any one?—No.

Nothing worse than highway robbery?—No.

I will give you notice beforehand. Don't answer hastily. Were you charged with the same crime that Arthur Orton was charged with I decline to answer that question.

The Chief-Justice: On what ground?

The Claimant: Because I don't think it is a proper question to put, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: That depends on legal grounds. You are bound to answer unless it would criminate yourself.

The Solicitor-General: I repeat my question. —I decline to answer on the ground that it would tend to criminate myself.

Were you accused at the same time and conjointly with Arthur Orton?—I decline to answer that question.

On the same ground?—Yes.

You told me that Arthur Orton was charged with horse-stealing. Were you charged with horse-stealing?—I was charged with him. I may as well say that we proved them to be our own horses, and we got discharged.

Where was that?—In Castlemaine.

Whereabouts in Castlemaine?—About fifteen miles from the Back Creek, on the road from Melbourne to Bendigo.

Was this in 1859?—Yes.

At that time were you in the employ of a man named M'Manus?—No.

Did you hear of such a person?—Yes; Orton was in his service.

Was that the time you and Orton were charged with horse-stealing?—Some months after that.

You were acquitted?—Yes.

Then that could not be the matter in respect of which you were afraid of criminating yourself?—I didn't say it was.

Before whom were you and Orton charged?—I could not tell you the name of the magistrate.

Where was the charge heard?—At the police-court at Castlemaine.

Who prosecuted you?—A digger at Forrest Creek.

What was his name?—Burgess. Croft was the actual prosecutor, but Burgess was the person I sold the horse to.

Were you charged together?— Yes.

At what time in 1859?—In the latter part of it.

The Chief-Justice: In what name were you charged?

The Claimant: Castro, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: And under what name was Orton charged?

The Claimant: His own name, Arthur Orton.

The Solicitor-General: What large town is Castlemaine near?—It is a large town itself.

I must ask you another question about the gentlemen at the meeting at which Mr. Scott presided. Are you sure you did not tell Mr. Guilford Onslow what you told me in court yesterday? I simply ask the question in justice to Mr. Guilford Onslow himself?—I don't see there is any iustice required in the matter.

Then, if I understand you, the horse-stealing affair came to nothing?—Yes.

And it was not the matter in respect of which you claimed privilege the other day?—No.

Nor the one mentioned this morning?—No.

Did you get back from Chilli in 1851 on board a ship called the Jessie Miller?—I did not. I was in Ireland in 1851.

And did you go to Mr. George Orton's house in Wapping, and stay there for some time?—I did not.

And during that time did you assist Mr. George Orton as a butcher?—I did not.

Could you speak any Spanish in 1851?—No, not a word.

Did you act as interpreter to the captains of Spanish ships in London at that time in their dealings with your father?—My father?

I beg your pardon—with Mr. George Orton and other people?—I did not.

When you were in Australia did you know a man named Beeson? Yes; he is a shoemaker. He used to come to the yard for hides.

Did you and he ever have conversation together about your former life?—No, I think not. I never liked the man, and therefore I don't think it is likely I should converse with him. He was a man nobody in the town associated with.

Will you swear you didn't converse with him about your former life?—I did not.

Did you ever tell him you were cast away on the South American coast, and picked up and taken care of by an old Spaniard who had a wife and two daughters?—Certainly not.

Did you tell him you stopped with the Spaniard and his family sometime, and then me on to Melbourne?—Certainly not.

That you had been to Monte Video and Rio?—I never told anybody where I had been.

Did he talk Spanish?— I think not.

Did you talk Spanish with him?—Never.

Did you tell him that you knew a good deal more about London than he did, and that you had been an interpreter, and knew every lane and alley in London?—Certainly not. There is no man in London knows less about it than I do.

Do you really mean to say that this man Beeson did not speak Spanish fluently, and that you did not speak it with ease to him?—I mean to say this, that I don't believe Beeson ever spoke Spanish. I never heard him speak a word of it in his life.

Did you speak to him to see whether he could understand ytm?—Nothing of the sort.

Did you tell him you knew South America well, and that you had been farther north than Rio?—No; I certainly did not. I never spoke to him about South America at all.

Now I ask you whether in 1851 you did not form an attachment and keep company with a Miss Loder?—Certainly not. I was in Ireland in 1851. I never knew a Miss Loder. I saw her in company with Detective Whicher in front of my house at Croydon, and I have seen her with him several times since.

You had no acquaintance with her?—I never spoke to her in my life.

Had you the least idea who she was when you saw her at Croydon?—No. I saw her at my door the day of my poor mother's funeral.

Who pointed her out to you?—Rous, I think. It was all over the country that she was there.

Anything said about your alleged connection?—Yes. He said something like " That's your old sweetheart."

Well then, was the time you saw her in front of your house at Croydon the first time you ever saw her?—Yes.

In the instructions from Arthur Orton to you, he said, " Please send what information you can concerning a Miss Loder." Were these instructions in writing?—I didn't say " instructions." He gave me the names of people and their residences, and asked me to make out all I could about them.

Did you ever get information about this Miss Loder?—No.

Why not?—Because I had too much to do.

Did you not learn from Orton that she had been an old sweetheart of his?—No, he did not tell me what she had been. I thought she was a connection.

When you saw Arthur Orton's sisters, did you make any inquiries about Miss Loder?—I don't think I did.

When was it that you learned she asserted that you were Arthur Orton, and that she was an old sweetheart of yours?—I think from a statement made by Whicher to Rous when he wanted to buy Rous over to your side. He didn't succeed at that time, but he succeeded ultimately.

Did you then communicate anything to Orton, saying that it was said you were he and she was yours? (A laugh.)—I wrote to him about that time. I can't say what I said to him. Nobody knew the contents of that letter but myself, but I have heard some of the contents quoted since, so it must have been opened. There was one portion of it repeated to me by Rous.

What was it?—I decline to answer.

Would that criminate you, too?—No. I asked him to see Mr. Mackenzie out there.

What was he to see Mr. Mackenzie about?—To see what he was doing.

Did you show it to Rous before you sent it off?—No. I think I showed it to Mr. Moojen.

Do you remember anything else in the letter?—That is all I intend to recollect.

The Court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the Court re-assembling, after luncheon, the cross-examination of the claimant was further proceeded with.

The Solicitor-General: Do you believe these five letters to be in the handwriting of Arthur Orton?—Yes. They look like his, anyhow.

These letters were handed in, and marked by the Chief-Justice for the purpose of identification.

The Solicitor-General: Now take this one, which you have said was your first letter to Lady Tichborne, and dated from Wagga Wagga—did you write that?—Yes.

Now take the one dated Torquay, Christmas Day, and compare it with the one from Wagga Wagga, which I find is dated January, 17, 1866?—What is it you want to know?

Well, what I want to know is whether you mean to swear those two letters are written by different people?—Upon my oath they are. I swear to God I never wrote this one, dated from Torquay, 1852.

Are they like?—There is " a similiarity, certainly, in the writing, but they are not like. I have often seen writing which I thought was my own; indeed, I have acknowledged writing as my own when it was not so.

I am showing you now, open, the letter which was closed when it was handed to you iu the Sessions-house, and which you said was like your writing, but about which von would not swear?—It is like my writing; but I don't remember your showing it to me in the Sessions-house at all.

Is this letter in the handwriting of Roger Tichborne!—Yes: it is mine.

It is dated " Cahir, 4th, January, 1852 and is an unquestioned letter. The letter of the 17th February, 1860, it an unquestioned letter from the claimant. Now, the question I am about to put is repecting the other letter

The Claimant: I think all letters should be exhibited together. They have taken out those letters that are most similar, and others that are dissimilar, and that is not acting fairly. I did not often write; sometimes seven or eight years elapsed before I wrote a letter, and my hand would naturally alter during that lime.

The Chief-Justice: At present the learned counsel has a right to have the letters submitted to the jury.

The Solicitor-General: Would you like to see the three together before you answer my question?—Yes, I should.

The letters were handed to the claimant.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean to swear that the letter dated 4th January, 1851, and the one dated 17th January, 1866, are written by the same person, and that the two—the one dated January, 1866, and the other January, 1851—are written by the same person?—I swear that the one dated from Wagga Wagga and the one from Cahir are in my handwriting. The other, from Torquay, I know nothing about.

Will you swear they were written by different people?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The claimant has said that he knows nothing about the Torquay letter, and surely that is an answer.

The Claimant: If I swear to one thing, then you put it in a different way.

The Solicitor-General: You never wrote a letter to Miss Loder in 1852 or 1853?—I swear on my oath I never wrote a letter to Miss Loder in my life.

Did you go in the ship Middleton to Van Dieman's Land in 1852, and take with you a couple of Shetland ponies consigned to a gentleman there, theouptain of the ship being named Storey?—I did not.

Do you recollect telling Mr. Hopkins that a man named Peebles was one of the crew who saved you when wrecked?—He was one of the crew of the Bella, I think.

Have you ascertained that Owen Lewis, or Lewis Owen, and James Peebles were two of the sailors who went in the Middleton to Van Dieman's Land with Arthur Orton in 1852?—I have heard it asserted so.

Was it not owing to this that you suggested the names of those two persons as being part of the crew of the Bella?—No, it was not.

Don't you know that in the list of the Bella no such names appear?—No; but there is a name very similar to Peebles.

Were the names of those sailors in the list of the Osprey crew?—Not that I am aware of.

Have you ascertained that no such names were in the list of any crews who landed in Melbourne during June and July, 1854?—Yes.

Have you directed a search to be made at the Board of Trade, at Lloyd's, and elsewhere?—Well, an inquiry was made in my behalf.

And have you ascertained that no such persons were heard of?—Not as far as I know.

Have you heard anything more about the two men of the Bella since last we talked about it?—No, I have not.

I have asked you about the life of Arthur Orton up to the time he went to Australia.—I am not aware of it.

Perhaps you have been misunderstanding me all along, then. When did you first meet with Orton?—At the latter end of 1855.

Have you heard him speak of being in Chili?—No; but I think he told me he had been at Valparaiso.

What made him tell you that?—I can't say; it arose during our conversation.

What gave rise to the conversation?—I have not the slightest idea.

When was he at Valparaiso?—I never heard.

And was that the only place in South America he mentioned to you?—Yes.

He did not mention Melipilla or Santiago?—No.

You say that, as far as you know, he was not acquainted with Castro?—I never heard him say so.

This pocket-book (produced) was yours when you were at Mr. Higgins's in Australia; are all those marks your scribbling?—No. " Patrick Reardon" and " Sam" are not mine.

Nor the cross, swords near to the signature, and the two half-moons or " C's" stuck back to back with " H. C. T."—are they yours?—No; I think not.

Will you swear it?—No, I will not. There is " Peter Middlemas;" that is not in my handwriting.

Not the two half-moons, or the two C's back to back?—No, I think not; but I will not swear to it.

Just take the Torquay letter and see if you can see the same kind of thing there, with a little shading or an " m" beneath it?—This appears to be a differtnt thing altogether.

Now look at these letters (Orton's). Is there not a similar sign in each of them?— There may be some resemblance, but I don't see it. I w ill swear I never wrote the letter you are referring to.

Then the marks in the letters and the two " c's" in your book you say are not alike?—Yes.

You don't know anything about the piece of paper which has been cut off the top of the page in the book, or what was on it?—No, I do not.

Will you swear it was not " Arthur Orton?"—I can't say what was on it.

You have told me about Orton being accused as a bushranger. Had he anything to do with the passage in Richardson's letter about one of the most notorious of bushrangers falling by a rifle ball?—No, I should think not.

Did you intend to suggest that to Mr. Richardson when the letter was written?— No, it could not be, for it happened that there was £2,000 offered for that man's head.

You are positive that you did not mean to suggest that Orton had fallen by a litle ball?—I am certain I did not.

Do you remember a man named Morgan being shot?—Yes, at Peachybellow, in Victoria, about 1865.

Was he a bushranger?—Yes.

Did you ever meet with him?—Yes.

When?—On several occasions.

In the bush?—Yes.

Ranging?—Well, he was in the bush.

Were you intimate with him?—I don't know what you mean by intimate. I knew him, but he was no friend of mine.

Was he in those parts when you took his name?—No, I think not.

Why did you take his name?—I can't say.

Did you see him some time before he was shot?—Yes, I believe so.

Who was Ballarat Harry—was he a ranger too?—No; he was a digger.

He disappeared, did he not?—Well, he was murdered. I knew him at the Omeo diggings.

Did you know him at the time of the murder?—I knew him previously. He was murdered by a man named Toke, who became a bushranger afterwards.

Did you know Toke?—Yes, I knew him from my first going to Gipsland.

Were you on friendly terms with him?—Yes, at one time.

In a letter read on Thursday, the address to which your letters were to bo sent was given as " R. C. T., Post-office, Liverpool." What made yon give that address when yon were at Gravesend?—I don't know, I am sure.

You must have had some reason. It was the first letter you wrote, after landing, to Orton's sisters. Had you any idea of going to Liverpool at that time?—No.

What made you write for the letter to be sent there?—I can't say.

Why did you wish any particulars about Orton's family to be sent to that address in Liverpool, when you were in Gravesend?—I can't say.

(The letter was handed to the claimant, who said that in one place the word Liverpool," which occurred twice, had apparently been written by somebody else.)

Had you any idea of going out of the country again?—Certainly not.

Mr. and Mrs. George Orton you found out were dead when you went to Wapping?— No; I don't think I found it out at that time.

Don't you think it was an odd thing that you should desire important letters to be left for you at Liverpool?—It strikes me it was about the time when I was to start for Paris. I might have had some idea of going to Ireland via Livernool after I came back.

Did you ever inquire for your letters at Liverpool?—No: I did not.

You say, " My future address will be R. C. T., Post Office, Liverpool.'' Can't you explain that?—No; I cannot.

Had you forgotten you desired the address to be at Liverpool?—Yes; I have no remembrance of it now.

Had you any friends at Liverpool at the time?—No.

Any agent?—No.

Any connection, direct or indirect, there?—No.

Where you at Gravesend when you wrote it?—Yes: I think so.

Can't you give some suggestion why you stated your future address would be at Liverpool?—Probably I did it because I did not want to be bothered with them.

But you were not obliged to write or give them an address. Did that ever occur to you?—Well, that would have been the wisest course, perhaps.

Had you any idea of going to Ireland at that time?—Yes, I had an idea about Ireland, but not to go there then.

Did you ever make any inquiry at the post-office, Gravesend?—I can't tell you whether I did or not.

In the first letter you gave your address as " R. C. T., Gravesend," and you say, " They will be forwarded." Did you not inquire for letters there?—I can't remember.

Did you give any directions for letters to be forwarded?—Not that I can recollect. I got into so much trouble by a party of the opposite side coming down, that I believe I did not think any more about it.

But persons had cot recognised you then?—Well, I don't know; they came to the hotel and said I was an impostor. The landlady sent up my bill, a policeman was fetched, and there was a great ado about it.

You were not about going to America when you asked for your letters to be left at Liverpool?—No, certainly not.

(The letters of Orton were about being read, but Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected, and they were merely handed in, with an indication from the Solicitor-General that he would read them at the proper time.)

I think you have said that you had not seen any of Orton's sisters before the appointment was made for them to meet you at Mr. Holmes's in July, 1868?—Yes; I saw them for the first time in Mr. Holmes's presence. It all appears in my affidavit.

Was that appointment made in consequence of the letters which I have read to you this morning?—No; I think that Mr. Holmes went to see Mrs. Captain Jury first. I believe the others had made their affidavits before I saw them. Why do you want to bother me about it?

You did not see them when you first landed?—No.

When did you see them?—I can tell you if you let me see the affidavits. (Affidavits handed to claimant).

Now, what is the date?—15th April, 1868.

That was the first time you saw the other sisters and not Mrs. Jury?—Yes.

And you made an appointment to see her?—Yes.

Had you had any correspondence with them?—Yes, there were several letters written.

What were they about?—I think they were principally written when they wanted any money.

When did they first begin to want money?—Soon after I had seen them.

Where did they address you?—At Wellesley Villas, Croydon.

How did they " bother your life out" until you had sent them a likeness of your own?—By writing. Both of them wrote several letters before I sent the photograph of the wife and child.

Did you send them one of your own photographs?—I have no recollection whether I did or not.

Did you get a photograph of yourself?—Yes; they had one, I think, which they got from Mr. Holmes.

Did you have it framed and hung up?—That I can't tell you.

Why did they want a photograph of you?—That's a wide question. Everyone seems to want one now.

But not at that time? Didn't they want a photograph of you as their brother?—No, I should say not.

Did they insist upon saying you were their brother?—I never heard them say so. I knew nothing of the kind except what appeared in the letters.

Did they get the photograph before they saw you?—Yes.

Were they satisfied with it?—Well, they said it was not their brother.

Did they have an appointment with you afterwards?—Yes.

Was it for the purpose of seeing you as their brother?—No.

Did they Bay that the photograph reminded them of their brother?—No.

Did not one of them insist upon having an interview with you at Croydon against your will?—No, I don't remember it.

Or of having a sight of you?—No, I think not.

Will you swear that one of the sisters did not insist upon seeing you against your will?—Yes, I will swear it.

Did Mrs. Captain Jury live at 21, Stansbury-road, East India-road?—Yes, I believe so.

Did you ever know that she insisted upon having an interview with you so as to see if you were her brother?—No, I do not. What was the date?

I mean on the 13th February, 1869?—You led me to believe it was before then. She wrote to me for somo money, and I told her I could not let her have any more, as it would be dangerous to do so; and I referred her to my legal advisers. She came to my house eight or ten times, but not for the purpose you have stated. It was merely to borrow money, as letters in our possession will clearly show.

Did not Mrs. Jury say that she would not go into a court and swear you were not her brother?—No; nor even alluded to such a thing.

And did she not say she must have an interview with you, to satisfy herself whether you were or not?—There you go again. If I was present it would be an interview. I never heard anything of the kind. On my return from South America I was advised not to see her, and I did not. I have received several letters from my attorney.

How did they find you out at Croydon?—That was a very easy matter to do. My case was in all the papers. I have received several letters merely addressed to me in London.

Did you receive several letters from Mrs. Jury, addressed " Wellesley Villas, Ooydon?"—Yes, I did.

How did she find out your address? I can't say.

Have you got your banker's pass-book now?—No.

But I gave you notice to produce it.—Well, I don't think it right that my bank book and cheques should be put into your hands to let the public know all my transactions. I don't object to any cheques being used which may have a bearing on the case.

Mr. Serjeant Pallantine: The book will be produced, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: You may depend upon it we have too much to do to use either book or cheque otherwise than for the mirnoses of this trial.

The court then adjourned till Monday.

THIRTY-FIRST DAY. — MONDAY, JUNE 26.

THIRTIETH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination, by the Solicitor-General, was continued: There were several things you said should be produced. There were the medical certificates showing that you were not in a condition to go to South America. Are you sure they existed?—Certainly.

What did you do with them?—I produced them to counsel on consultation.

Was that before or after your affidavit on the 3rd of September?—I cannot say. I have not got the certificates at present. Mr. Holmes has got them.

Do you say they exist?—Yes; Mr. Ballantine read them at consultation. They were handed in by my attorney, and I have not seen them since.

Do you mean to swear that you did not go on to Middleton and Hobart Town, arriving in May, 1853?—I most positively swear that I did not.

With a couple of Shetland ponies, consigned to a Mr. Chapman?—No; I swear I did not.

Who were the persons you last saw in Paris before you started in the Pauline?— Do you mean as regards my own family?

Yes; or your own intimate friends? —My father and mother, and Chatillon.

I think you have said that Chatilion asked you to breakfast, and that your father refused to let you go, on account of its being the last morning?—Yes; I did not breakfast with Chatilion in Paris the last day or the last day but one, or at all during the visit.

You are certain that nothing happened at the last breakfast in Europe with M. and Madame Chatillon in Paris just before you started?—Yes.

You went to Havre, and started in tiie Pauline?—Yes.

Did you go straight to Rio?—No—to Valparaiso, except that we put in from stress of weather at Falmouth.

How soon after you returned to this country did you go to Lloyd's?—I have told you before I never went to Lloyd's to my knowledge. I don't even know where it is.

Well, it is at the Royal Exchange. Do you mean to swear that yon, at least twice, did not go to Lloyd's to look at their books?—No; I never was in the Royal Exchange in my life

Did you go once, or pay visits three or four days apart?—No.

The Chief-Justice: Did you go to any shipping office in the neighbourhood of the Royal Exchange?—No, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Did you not go with your legal adviser, announcing yourself as Sir Roger Tichborne, and asked to look at the books.—I have no knowledge of it. If I did go, I should certainly have announced myself as Sir Roger Tichborne.

Do you mean to swear you did not make inquiries as to the Bella, the Osprey, the Kent, and other vessels?—No; I think you are under a mistake. Some persons might have gone on my behalf. I think Mr. Holmes told me that some such search had been made.

Was that before you saw Mr. Hopkins?—I can't say.

Did you say one word to Mr. Roupell about your touching at Falmouth?—No.

Why not?—I can easily explain it. It slipped my memory at the time. I was thinking of any foreign port when the question was asked me if wo touched anywhere. I had no recollection of Falmouth until I returned on a subsequent occasion. I had quite forgotten it until I was examined in chief in this case.

Did you not direct inquiries to be made at Lloyd's about two months ago as to the course of the Pauline?—No, I did not.

Do yon know that inquiries were made as to the Pauline putting in at Falmouth?—No, I knew it myself, and as soon as I reached England I put it on record by telling my attorneys. I never instructed them to make such inquiries as you have stated.

Did you say anything about Cherbourg?—I think not.

Did you put into Cherbouror?—Certainly not.

Before you appeared before Mr. Roupell had you any interview with Moore?—No.

If he has given you any information, he could not then have given it to you before that time?—He has not given me any information at all.

The Solicitor-General here read a portion of the evidence with respect to the blow from an albatross and the injury to the eye from a fish-hook on board the Pauline, and other incidents during the voyage.

Had you forgotten all about the albatross then?—Well, I did not remember it at the moment when you asked me the question. The blow from the albatross and the cut on the eye were different accidents. I have the mark from the albatross now.

Which was the worse accident of the two?—The cut on the eye, I should say$$Unclear$$; but the other presented the most serious appearance at first. The cut on the eye soon healed up.

Did not Moore say you had made a hash about a albatross?—I am not in the habit of making hashes.

You did not mention to him the other accident from the wing of an albatross?—No, I did not.

Did he mention it here?—I don't know.

Did the accidents lay you up?—No, neither of them. I presume you mean by laying up, confined to my cabin?

Yes.—I was ill during the whole voyage.

Was there a supercargo passenger besides yourself and Moore?—Well, it all depends whether he belonged to the ship's company.

The Solicitor-General: When you were before Mr Roupell you said there were passengers, but that you could not remember the number. Now, were there auy other?— Yes, there was another party, who was treated as supercargo. He was a weak man. and was ill for a long time with sea-sickness or general debility—I can't say which.

How was he when he reached Valparaiso?—I think he was better then.

Had the sea voyage done him good?—I don't think so; he looked a great deal worse.

Did he die?—No; no one died.

When did you arrive at Valparaiso?—In June: on a Sunday, I believe.

Have you got a copy of the letter you wrote from Buenos Ayres to Mrs. Seymour? No I have not. I was not aware of it till I mentioned it to Mr. Roupell.

Will you swear you had not a copy of that letter?—Yes.

Did you see it afterwards?—No; and that I will swear.

Look at this. is this in Roger Charies Tichborne's writing?—Yes; that is my handwriting.

Will you swear you did not show Mr. Holmes a copy of this letter?—Yes, that I will.

And Mr. Holmes did not show it to you?—No.

Or did Lady Tichborne?—No.

The Solicitor-General then read the letter, as follows:—

Buenos Ayres. Dear Mrs. Seymour—I hope that you will excuse the delay that has token place in fulfilling the promise which I have given before leaving England of writing to you shortly after my arrival in South America. I arrived at Valparaiso on the 11th June, after a very favourable voyage front Havre. I did not make a long stay in Valparaiso, as there is scarcely anything worth seeing. It is a town which is quite built in the European fashion, where there is much commercial business done with France and England, and embarked again at the end of three weeks on board the same ship in which I had come from Europe to Arica. I only remained there a few days, waiting for the steamer to go to Callao, which is Lima's seaport. As soon as the steamer came I embarked ou board, not sorry at leaving Arica, as it is nothing more than a small town, having the sea on one side, and immense land deserts on the other. I reached Callao after four days' passage. I went to Lima the next day. Lima is the largest and finest town which I have yet seen in South. America. I made rather a longer stay there than I had done anywhere else, as there was much to be seen about the town. The riches that exist in some of the churches is something almost beyond belief. I went to see several limes the bull fights, which are kept up in quite the Spanish, fashion. The bull fight is a kind of rendezvous for all the fashionable world in Lima; .-ill the ladies in the town come to see it, dressed up in their finest dresses I don't think that I over saw such a number of remarkably handsome young la ies as I saw on those occasions at Lima. I embarked towards the middle of September on board a steamer for Guayaquil, where I arrived after ten days' passage. The river which we went up, before we reachod the town, is very picturesque. I saw for the first time tropical vegetation in all its riches. I did not make a long stay at Guayaquil, but hired one of those long Indian canoes, with two Indians, at the end of a few days to go up the river. After I had taken all the provisions I embarked with my man servant on board my yacht. My excursion lasted about a fortnight. I went up about 300 miles up the river, and was for several days under the line. The heat there was something quite fearful I got when I was there a very fine collection of bird skins—birds which are rarely met with in the tropics. Although I had seen and explored all that I could in the interior, I ca?me back to Guayaquil, where f remained about a fortnight longer, making excursions ail about the town. At tho end of that time I embarked on board the steamer for Callao and Lima, where I was obliged to make a much longer stay than I had intended at first, as my servant was ill, and I was obliged to take care of him; but seeing that at the end of two weeks he was not getting any better, I was obliged to leave him there and take another. When all this was settled I embarked again for Valparaiso. I .-.rrived in that town after a voyage of twelve days on board the steamer. I only remained a fow days at Valparaiso. As soon as I was able I left for Santiago, where I was obliged to remain some time to make all the preparations necessary to cross the Cordilleras of the Andes. I was obliged to finish all about it, and leave the town on the 11th January, with my servant, the guide, four mules, and two horses. I mounted one of these, and my valet the other. Two mules carried my luggage, and the other one was following. We did not reach the foot of the Cordilleras till the third day. As soon as we began to ascend the first chain of mountains one of the mules, the one which carried my two portmanteaus, did not appear willing to go; and at that moment she turned round before running down the side of the hill with such velocity that she could no longer stop when she tried, but began rolling down wonderfully fast with my baggage tied on her back, with a box of biscuits, which broke open so as to leave them at liberty to roll about in every direction The mule, after having rolled in such a manner for about 30 or 40 feet, fell from the height of 50 feet, and broke one of her legs. We were accordingly obliged to leave her there and put the cargo on another mule. A troop of muleteers who came up at this moment were of the greatest help to us, as they were all the time we were in the mountains. With their help and their long lassoes we managed to pull the mules to the top of the first chain of mountains. As soon as evening came wo had to stop, build a kind of camp with the luggage and saddles, and prepare a kind of dinner. As we had only one fork between all of us we had to put the iron soup-tureen in the middle of all of us— and we were ten—and each one took with his fingers what he liked. When our frugal dinner was over wo rolled ourselves in cloaks, and slept very well in the open air, though it was cold. The next morning we started before sunrise. We were not able to reach the second chain of mountains that day. We encamped that night on the bank of a very rapid torrent; the next morning we crossed the river, which was very rapid. The water came as high as half way up the saddle. It is with difficulty that animals can keep up against the rapid current, and especially against the large round stones which the torrent rolls down. Some of these stones weigh as much as 40, 50, or 60 pounds. If they roll against the legs of the horse or mule it is knocked down in a moment. It is for that that the men are always ready with the lassoes to catch any one which may fall. We got fortunately all safe to the other side. Wc began ascending the second chain of tho Cordilleras in the course of the morning. Wh got to the other side without much difficulty, except the one of pushing and pulling the mules We reached Mendoza three days afterwards without any inconvenience worth notice. The distance between Santiago and Mendoza by the pass which is called Ootillo is seventy-eight leagues. We were eight days performing tho journey. There is some fatigue about it, but a person having seen the magnificent wild scenery of the Andes does not regret either his time or his fatigue. I remained a week at Mendoza waiting for the post for Buenos Ayres. I left Mendoza for Buenos Ayres alone with—on the 27th January.

There is a word here that I cannot make out; it looks like " post" something or other?—The post-boy. I remember going with the post-boy, and therefore it cannot be anything else.

(The letter was handed to the claimant for inspection, when he said the word was " postillo.")

The Solicitor-General: No; that is not the word I mean. I will underline it.

(The letter was again handed in, when the claimant said it was " conico," or courier, meaning the post.)

The Chief Justice: Spell the word?

The Claimant: "C-o-r-r-i-c-o."

The Solicitor-General continued reading the letter:—

The pampas has not anything of very curious, except that it is an immense grass land, what is 400 leagues wide and, I believe, three times as much in length. We were stopped ten days at different little towns which are to be found in the pampas to receive and send your letters. We reached Buenos Ayres on the morning of the 13th February, after having performed a journey of 400 leagues in rather a short time on horseback. I shall go in a few days to Monte Video, on my way to Brazil. I shall go from thence to Kingston, Jamaica, to get any letters which may have been written to me from England. If yoii favour mo with a letter, will you have the kindness to direct it there? I shall be a short time at Kingston, on my way to Mexico. I shall be much obliged if Henry will get my name put up at the Travellers' Club, as I should like to become a member when I come back. Fray remember me kindly to all.—Ever believe mo yours.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine called attention to two words, " beyond belief " as read by the Solicitor-General, whereas in his copy they were " behond believe."

How long were you at Melipilla?—Very nearly three weeks.

Where you there more than once?—No.

And when?—On my return from Santiago was the first ooeasion that I visited it.

In the letter to Mrs. Seymour only one visit to Santiago is mentioned?—Yes.

And that the second visit?—Yes.

The two visits to Santiago were separated by six months; the first being in June and July, and the second in December and January?—Yes.

Roger Tichborne arrived at Valparaiso on the 19th June, 1853, and again on his return from the north on the 12th December. 1853 Are those dates correct?—Yes.

The letter to Mrs. Seymour mentions that on the second occasion you went straight to Santiago across the Cordilleras?—Yes.

There was, therefore, no time between Santiago and any other place for your residence at Mehpilla?—I don't follow what you say.

Did you go straight from Valparaiso to Santiago the second time?—I went to Casablanco the first, and then straight on.

But Roger Tichborne rode during the whole of the night from Valparaiso. Do you know that?—No it was during the day.

The evidence before Mr. Ruupell with regard to this point was read by the Solicitor-General. " Viâ Melipilla " appeared to have been put in after the deposition was taken.

The Claimant: I went to Melipilla on my return.

The Solicitor-General: In the evidence it states that you went to Melipilla on your journey to Santiago.

The Claimant: I was not asked at first to give the names of all the places I went through, but was asked afterwards, and hence the correction. The only difference I can see is that the word " to " is put instead of " from." My visit to Melipilla was on my return from Santiago on the first occasion.

The Solicitor-General: Melipilla appears to have been mentioned in the re-examination before the correction. You state that you were the guest of Castro whilst there. When reading over the deposition you introduced the place on your second journey, whereas now you put it on the first. Can you explain the discrepancy?—No. I cannot

inch is true?—That I went there on my first journey. I did not profess to give each journey to the letter. I never mentioned my first journey to Valparaiso.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The mode in which the question was put conveyed an idea of two journeys.

The Chief-Justice: From where?

The Solicitor-General: I meant from Valparaiso to Santiago.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Although he does not mention it in his letter he did allude to the journey in connection with his return.

The Solicitor-General said there was no mention of Melipilla in the claimant's evidence in chief before Mr. Ronpell. The visit to Melipilla was said to have been in the journey to Santiago to cross the Cordilleras.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said that the ciaimant intended to convey that the visit to Melipilla was on his return journey.

The Solicitor-General: What sort of a road is it from Santiago?—It is very mountainous. Viâ Melipilla is not the most straight, but it is the best road.

Do you mean the more level of the two?—Well, it is not so mountainous as the other. You can arrive by one road almost as soon as you can by the other. The road is more level.

Is this your view? Do I understand you to say that you omitted to mention Melipilla upon the first occasion you were examined because you did not think it worth while to give the name of every place you went through?—I mean nothing of the kind. The first journey not being mentioned, I naturally enough said nothing about Melipilla. I went from Casabanco to Santiago and back through Melipilla.

Melipilla was the place in Chili where you had stayed the longest, was it not?—Yes.

And where you had made the friendships we have heard?—Yes.

And there you took the name of Castro?—Yes.

Why upon earth did you not mention the name of Melipilla before counsel originally?—Because I was never asked the question.

Counsel asked you where you went to from Valparaiso.—He meant what other seaport, and I said Callao.

Why did you not say you went to Melipilla and made the acquaintance of all the persons who have been mentioned?—It is all very well for you to put a question in that way.

But why did you not?—Because I was under the impression that he merely wanted to know what large towns I went through.

Did you go to Lima?—What fearful jumps you make.

Did you go into the interior of the country shooting?—Yes.

It is quite clear there was not the slightest mention of Melipilla until you introduced it in your re-examination. You landed at Valparaiso on the 18th of June, 1853?—Yes.

How long did yon stay there?—Abont four days, I believe. I can't say exactly.

The Chief-Justice: And where did you go then?—To Santiago.

The Solicitor-General: Will you swear you left Valparaiso before the 1st of July?— Yes. I am certain of that. It would be eleven days from the date the SolicitorGeneral has given. I have no recollection of the exact date myself.

Did you arrive on the 19th of June, 1853?—Yes, I believe so; but I cannot say.

Is this letter, written to Mr. Gosford, in your handwriting?—Yes, I remembor it. I recognise it by the view (of Valparaiso) being upon it.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter to Mr. Gosford:—

Valparaiso, .June 20, 1853.

My dear Sir—I am perfectly at a loss to find out why you have not written to inform me of my poor uncle's death. I thought in all cases that you might have written me a line, if only to inform mo of the different changes which that deplorable event has caused. I suppose that by this time my father and mother must be settled at Tichborne. I suppose that you must have found it very difficult a matter to please everybody, and I am sure that you must have great difficulties now. The only letter which I received this morning was from Lady Doughty, who gave me tho sad intelligence. I am also vory much surprised at not having received any letters from my father since my arrival here. I cannot make out why he don't write to me. I have enclosed in this letter a letter from Lady Doughty, as she told me in hers to do so, as you would know her direction. I left Falmouth on the 12th March at night by a very stormy wind and a heavy sea, which were fortunately all in our favour. We came in sight of the Pic de Teneriffe towards the latter part of the month. I saw it quite plain, though at a distance of more than ninety miles. We crossed the line on the 10th April, at ten at night. We had near the line a fortnight or three weeks of calm weather; the heat during those calms was intense. The hottest day that ever I felt was at the beginning of April; the thermometer was up as high as 180 degrees in the sun at twelve o'clock When we were near tho Straight of Magellan, as I was walking as usual on deck after breakfast, I saw quite on a sudden twelve or fifteen whales at least, quite near the ship, sending water in the air as so many jets d'eau. We came near Cape Horn towards the middle of May. As the coast is dangerous captains always keep as far from it as they possibly can, so that we went as low as to 62 degrees south. The cold was then intense. Any water falling on deck was frozen up directly; but what was worse of all was the long nights; wo had only six hours of daylight, then eighteen hours of night; we remained fifteen days before we could get round the Cape. But when we came into the Pacific Ocean day began to be shorter, and the weather gradually milder. I arrived at Valparaiso on the 19th June at twelve o'clock. I was not able to go on shore that day on account of its being Sunday, but I went the next day. I spent my time very pleasantly during the passage. I used to read much; and as there was always a great many sea birds following the ship, I used to catch them with a fishing line, or kill them with my gun. The captain and his twoofficers were very nice sort of persons. I have not, I am happy to say, had a single moment of any kind of illness ever since I left. It was not the case with the other passengers, who had been more or less during the whole time. If you answer this letter by return of post, you had better direct it here, because, as we are at the boginning of winter, though the weather is as hot as in England in summer. I intend going on in the same ship, at the beginning of July, to Coquimbo and Lima, to see tho copper and silver mines which are to be seen in this neighbourhood. I intend to visit the north of Chili and the south of Peru during the winter, and work my way to the south at the beginning of spring. If you are not able to answer this letter by return of post, you must direct it to Buenos Ayres or Monte Video, where I shall be, after leaving Chili. I thank Heaven I was not at Tichborne when my uncle died, though many people may think it that I was quite out of the way, because it would have been quite impossible for me to put up with the different parties which exist in the family, my father and mother specially. Pray remember me kindly to Mrs. Gosford, and believe me yours truly. R. C. TICHBORNE.

I observe yon have a copy of this letter?—No; I didn't say so.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: My learned friend is quite mistaken. The letter which he supposes is a copy is a letter written by the claimant at the same time to his father. They are nearly word for word alike.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine called attention to the word " passenger," and not " passengers," as read.

The Jury inspected the letter, and the Foreman said that in the word " answer " there was a similar termination as in the word " passengers."

Mr. Giffard: In the father's letter the word " passenger " is clear enough.

The Solicitor-General: Then let it be " passenger;" but for the purposes of this examination I am on another point.

The Chief-Justice: My brother Ballnntine is quite right in calling attention to it. If it is " passenger" it ongbt to be ro in yonr copy, Mr. Solicitor-General.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: There is also the word " spent," which in the original is " spend." The spelling of such words ought to be perfectly free from doubt.

The Solicitor-General: It is perfectly immaterial just now. I am on a different point altogether.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said it was his duty to call attention to the mistakes as they presented themselves, especially as his learned friend had done so when he read letters applicable to his case.

The Solicitor-General said he merely read what was before him on both occasions.

Mr. Giffard: Then your copy cannot be accurate.

The Solicitor-General: I do not wish you to make it a point at all.

The Chief-Justice: But Serjeant Ballantine does, and he desires to point out the difference in the spelling, which he has a perfect right to do.

The Solicitor-General: Do you observe that the date of the letter is the 29th of June? Do you mean to adhere to your answer that you were only at Valparaiso for three or four days?—Yes, that is my impression.

Look at the date of the letter to your father. Is that also dated the 29th of June?—Yes.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Tliere are the same mistakes in this letter as in the other.

The Solicitor-General: Do you adhere to your impression?—Yes, that I was only there for four or five days.

Are you not convinced on looking at these letters that your memory is mistaken on the subject?—No, I don't know that I am so convinced.

Do you think then that you misdated the letters?—I can't say. I could have no motive in doing so.

In your judgment are the letters correctly dated or not?—I should say so.

Were you at Valparaiso when those letters were dated?—Well, that's a thing I can't answer; I have just been thinking about it.

Were you at Valparaiso on the 29th June?— My firm belief is that I was not.

How do you explain the date of the letters? I cannot do so, except that I might have taken the paper with me. My memory tells me that I was at Valpaiaiso for only a few days.

You observe in your letter to your father, " I took up my lodging in a French hotel while there, and I am very fairly," &c. What do you say now?—Well, it clearly shows that I have been under some mistake.

May! take it you will not deny you were at Valparaiso as late as the 29 th June?— don't think I could have been there.

Then you go on to say that " the houses are built low?"

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The word is " build" in my copy, and I must ask that theletter be read according to the original. I have a right to point out any false spelling. A copy of the letters may have been put into your hands in which false spelling may appear when it suits your case, and not otherwise.

The Solicitor-General said he was cross-examining on a different matter altogether, and he did not think his learned friend had a right to interrupt him. It was not proper to say that the copy from which he had been reading had been altered for a particular purpose.

The Chief-Justice: In my copy the word dearest occurs, and it is spelt "d-e-r-e-s-t." Does that occur in your copy, Mr. Solicitor-General?

The Solicitor-General: I am reading the letter for a different object altogether, and I would rather stop if I cannot do so.

The Chief-Justice: You read letters recently with all their inaccuracies, and I think that Serjeant Ballantine has a perfect right to have any false spelling pointed out now.

The Solicitor-General: It will be my duty hereafter to read the letters, and compare them with the intellect, the mind, and education of the claimant, as also the composition, the spelling, and so forth. At present I am merely putting in a letter for the purpose of ascertaining a date, and I do not think objections such as these ought to be forced upon me, and at a moment when I have a different object in view. I am trying to ascertain at what date the claimant left Valparaiso. I will withdraw the letter.

The Chief-Justice: Will you see, Mr. Solicitor-General, if the word " dearest " is so spelt in your copy?

The Solicitor-General: It is properly spelt in mine.

The Chief-Justice: Yes; then I think the better way will be to read the original letters.

The Solicitor-General: Then I can't conduct the cross-examination. It is impossible to be puzzling these letters out at all times.

The Chief-Justice: There is not the slightest imputation upon you, but the inaccuracies and the pronunciation ought to be such as appear in the letters originally written. It turns out that the copies of the letters are not all alike, and it is for the purpose of getting at the truth that I think the original letters should be read.

The Solicitor-General: I am merely trying to ascertain the date now, and the letters shall be read from the manuscript at the proper time.

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the reassembling of the court the cross-examination was resumed.

The Solicitor-General: I have finished with those two letters. Now I ask you whether you will swear that you were not at Valparaiso as late as the 1st of July ou the first occasion you were there?—I think not.

Will you swear you were not?—No.

Did you on that occasion, when you were going on your journey, stop at a place called Cassa Blanca, which consists of a few scattered huts, and contains an inn which is kept by a solitary Englishman?—It was during the second trip I did that.

Is it a fact that there is ail inn there kept by a solitary Englishman?—It is called the English Hotel.

Did you sleep and dine at this house on the first occasion?—No.

Were you ever at a place called Carrcobi?—There might be such a place on the road. I can't say.

Are there any hills or mountains on the other side of Santiago?—There are hills all the way between Santiago and Valparaiso.

Did you go to a place called the English Hotel at Santiago?—Yes.

Will you undertake to say you reached Santiago before Saturday, the 2nd of July?—I couldn't undertake to say; my impression is I was there before.

Moore was with you at that time?—Yes.

Did he get ill?—Yes.

I think you told my learned friend you were at Santiago about ten days?—Not quite so long as that.

Did you then start to go back to Valparaiso?—I did.

Did you expect at that time that the Pauline was to sail early in that month?—I did.

When did you expect she was to start?—Not very long after that.

Did you start from Santiago under that impression?—I did.

Do I understand you now to say that you then took the route by Melipilla?—I did.

How long were you in Castro's house?—I slept there five or six times, not continuously, but during the time.

When did you get down to Valparaiso?—It couldn't have been before the end of July.

What makes you say that?—Because it is so.

Can you give any reason for fixing that date?—I stayed three weeks at Melipilla, so it must have been about that time.

Have you ascertained from Lloyd's the date of the startiug of the Pauline on her journey northward?—Certainly not.

Or anyone on your behalf?—I can safely swear, if they did, they didn't inform me of it.

You went from Buenos Ayres to Cordova, when you went last?—Yes.

Is that the same route you took in 1854?—Yes.

I have asked you about daguerreotypes. Did you at the same time that you sent your daguerreotype home to Lady Tichborne, send to Sir James and Lady Tichborne your journals?—I think not.

Will you swear you didn't?—No.

Don't read that (produced) at the present moment, hut just tell me if it is Lady Tichborne's writing?—Yes.

Now, upon your oath, did you send your journals to Sir James and Lady Tichborne when yon sent the daguerreotype portraits?—I think not.

Will you swear you did not?—No.

Did you keep journals?—I kept a diary.

Before you sailed in the Bella, did you go from Buenos Ayres to Monte Video, and from there to Rio?—I did.

Before you went on board the Bella, did you come across a person of the name of Thomas Oates?—I did not, to my knowledge.

That you swear?—That I swear.

What do you mean " to my knowledge"?—I have no knowledge or recollection of such a person.

Do you recollect seeing him three days before the Bella sailed?- If I did I didn't know who he was.

Did you go on board without a passport the night the Bella sailed?—I did not.

Did you leave Rio without a passport? — I did.

Was it a rule at Rio that no captain should take a passenger from there without a passport?—Yes.

Did you have tea with the captain and Mr. Oates at five o'clock on the evening before the vessel sailed?—No.

Did you have a conversation with Captain and Mr. Oates about your cointr abroad?—When I don't know Mr. Oates, how can I say?

Answer my question.—I may have had a conversation with the captain but not with Mr. Oates.

Did Oates come on board early next morning?—Not that I know of.

Did you know Mr. Oates?—No, I have heard of him.

You know what he has stated in his evidence?—Yes, and I never heard so many lies put together before. (Laughter.)

Was Burkett the name of the captain?—Yes.

Can't yon remember the captain and Oates advising you to go down into the lazarette before the vessel started?—I did go down into the lazaretto.

Was the object of that to get you out of port without the cognizance of the Government officers, as you had no passport?—It was.

Did Captain Burkett advise you to go there?—He did.

And do you mean to say that Mr. Oates was not there and joined in the advice?— Certainly not.

The lazarette is a room in the after part of the ship, I believe, and separated from the cargo?—It is a store-room.

After you were put in there, did the steward cover the entrance to the room with tea-chests and light packets?—I can't say.

Was it covered?—It was blocked up.

You might have heard,you know?—I don't remember having heard.

Was there a cabin table put over the scuttle?—No; I don't see how that could have been done.

Was the ship visited by the Government officials after you were put into the lazarette?—I suppose it would be.

Did you hear them having a conversation with the captain and drinking coffee with him?—No; I shouldn't be surprised if it was so, but I didn't hear them.

Was there any other passenger on board the Bella except yourself?—There was not.

You say you did not see Mr. Oates there. Did you ever see anybody afterwards whom you were told was Mr. Oates?—Yes.

Where?—At Croydon; he came down with Detective Whicher.

Did you see him before Mr. Roupell?—I did not notice him.

You have denied being at Lloyd's?— Yes.

(A gentleman sitting at the end of the solicitor's table here stood up, at the request of the Solicitor-General.)

Do you mean, in the presence of that gentleman, to deny that you were at Lloyd's for some hours, looking at the books?—I have no remembrance of it.

No remembrance of it! Will you swear in his presence that you were not at Lloyd's yourself making inquiries, and looking at the books for hours?—I have no recollection.

That won't do. Answer my question—I certainly was not.

Will you swear you were not?—I swear I have no remembrance of being at Lloyd's, and I don't know even now where the place is. I went to several places with Mr. Holmes.

Did you not go down to the cellar at Lloyd's to see the books?—I have no remembrance of being down any cellar.

Will you swear you were not?—Really I don't know. I have no recollection.

Question repeated.—If I did so, it must have been in company with my attorney. I have no knowledge of it, and don't know where the place is. I have never been looking over books in any cellar.

Will you swear you never looked over books at Lloyd's, at the Royal Exchange?— I have no recollection of being at the Royal Exchange.

And did Captain Burkett remain on tlie shuttle or trap-door?—When I was inside how could I see what was done outside? (Laughter.)

Will you swear you haven't been there?—I don't think it is fair to ask roe that. You ought to let me ask Mr. Holmes.

The Chief-Justice: The question has been put to you several times. Will you swear, on consideration, that you haven't been there?

The Claimant: I don't believe now that I was there, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: I ask you whether you will not swear that you did not go to Lloyd's, at the Royal Exchange, and stay there between two and three hours, soon after you came to this country?—Do you mean by myself.

Answer my question.—I can't say. I went to some places with Mr. Holmes, but where I can't say. If I have been at Lloyd's, I have no knowledge of it.

Do you mean to swear that you did not go yourslf to the Royal Exchange, dose to the Bank, which you must know, and remain two or three hours making searches?— I am quite certain I did not.

I ask you, in the presence of that gentleman, did you not yourself go to Lloyd's to see the books relating to the Bella and the Osprey?—Upon my solemn oath I never did.

The Bella or the Osprey?—Neither the one or the other.

Did Mr. Holmes in your presence?—I don't know. I can't answer for Mr. Holmes.

In your presence?—Not in my bearing, to my knowledge.

Do you mean to say you could have gone to Lloyd's with your attorney, and your attorney asked to see the books relating to the Bella and the Osprey in your presence, without your knowledge?—I have no recollection of being there.

Will you swear be wasn't there with you?—I have been m several places with him.

Nay, nay. Will you swear lie didn't go to the Royal Exchange with you, and in your presence ask to see the hooks relating to the Bella and the Osprey?—I have no recollection.

Will you swear he did not?—I will not.

Did you go to any place with Mr. Holmes to see books relating to the Bella and the Osprey?—I can't be sure.

You can't be sure going anywhere to see the books about the ship in which you were wrecked and the ship that took you up?—I have no recollection.

Will you swear you did not?—I will not.

What made you say you were positive about not being there?—If that gentleman says so, of course I can't say it is not.

Did you go there twice?—I am quite certain I did not. I might have forgotten having gone there once, but I could not forget having been there twice.

Before I part from Chili and Australia I have a few questions to put to you. Am I right in saying you first knew Arthur Orton in Australia in 1855?—Yes.

And that you never went by that name in South America?—Yes.

At any time?—No.

The Chief-Justice: What name did you pass by in South America?

The Claimant: Roger Charles Tichborne, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: Always.

The Claimant: Always, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: That, you positively swear?—Yes.

Did you hear in 1868 from Pedro Castro, the son of your old friend Don Tomas Castro, that a man called Don Cevero Barra, who was the agent, as represented, of your opponents, had been asserting to him and to others of your former friends that you had passed in Chili as Arthur Orton?—He told them so.

And you knew that from Castro?—Yes.

Upon that information did Mr. Holmes, your attorney, write to Castro?—He did, I believe.

Mr. Holmes, in a letter to Pedro Castro, says:—

You mention that Cevero Barra, a gentleman of the adverse party, has endeavoured to produce an impression that Sir Roger was the same person as Orton. I cannot completely and clearly make out from your letter whether you yourself or any of your family or friends personally knew Arthur Orton. Be good enough to inform me particularly by your next letter whether you or they knew him or not, and in point of fact, whether his name was not first mentioned by Don Cevero Barra. It is really very important that you should inform me upon this point.

You recollect that being written by Mr. Holmea?—Yes.

Did you see the answer to that letter?—I can't say I did.

The letter from Pedro Castro to Mr. Holmes, dated Melipilla, 15th July, 1868, was handed to witness, hut he was not permitted to read it.

Did he communicate to you the substance of it?—I can't say until I hear it read.

Did yon not reply to it, and notice it in a letter of your own on tlie 28th of August, 1868, in which you speak of intending to start for Chili, to get evidence of your identity?—I don't see how it could have reached here by that time.

The postmark shows it reached London on the 25th of August, 1868. I now ask you whether Mr. Holmes did not communicate to you this letter.

The Solicitor-General then read the letter, which has already been published, and of which the following are tho most important passages:— " Don Cevero Barra is the person who asserted Sir Roger was an impostor, and that he is the son of a butcher, and not a nobleman belonging to the English aristocracy. Sir Roger communicated to Don Jose Yaldevisco that although he bore the name of Orton it was not his real name." You must have had information from that letter that Castro asserted that in Chili you had borne the name of Orton?—Your agent asserted it. This boy could not have known me; he was only seven or eight years of ago when I was there.

How do you account for the passage in which it is said that he " communicated to Don José Valdevicso it was not his real name? "—I never knew him.

But Pedro Castro says, " No one knew the real Arthur Orton here, but Sir Roger ho re his name?"—I can't account for what another person says or meant.

Did Mr. Holmes inquire what he meant?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I object, my lord. That comes within your lordship's ruling the other day.

The Solicitor-General: Did you on any occasion converse with. Mr. Holmes upon the subject of the letter from Pedro Castro to himself?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine again interposed, and his lordship ruled that the objection was valid.

The Solicitor-General: Tell me is it true you asserted you belonged to the English aristocracy?—I don't remember having done so.

Did you?—I should think probably not.

Will you swear you did not?—I can't remember every word I spoke when I there.

Is it true you had said you had played with the Queen's children?—Certainly not.

Then it is an invention?—It is a falsehood.

A falsehood on the part of Pedro Castro?—I don't say that. All I can say is that, whoever stated it, it was a confounded falsehood.

Did you at any time state that your father was Chancellor to the Queen?—I did not. Is that also an invention?—It is false if they say I did say so.

Have you read the evidence under the Chili commission of the persons mentioned in your letter to Don Toinas Castro?—Yes.

Do you in the face of that evidence persist in saying that you did not go by the name of Arthur Orton in Chili from 1848 to 1851?—I do, and I most solemnly swear it.

Or any portion of that time?—Yes, or at any other time.

Have you read Castro s evidence?—Yes.

Do you persist in saying that the time you stayed in Castro's house in Chili was 1853, and not in 1850?—Yes.

Do you persist in saying you never used the name of Arthur Orton?—I tell you I never used the name in my life.

The Chief-Justice: Neither Horton nor Orton.

The Claimant: Neither the one nor the other, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Do you persist in saying you used the name of Roger Charles Tichborne there?—Yes, and that only.

You started in the Bella to go to Kingston in Jamaica, and thence to New York?

The Chief-Justice (to the Solicitor General): Are you leaving South America?

The Solicitor-General: Yes, my lord.

The Chief-Justice (to the Claimant): How long were you at Valparaiso the first time altogether?

The Claimant: Three or four days, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: How many days did you stay at Cassa Blanea?

The Claimant: I merely called there, my lord. I stayed there one night on my second visit.

The Chief-Jastice: Then yon went to Santiago?

The Claimant: Yes, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: When you left Santiago where did you go to?

The Claimant: I went back to Valparaiso, and called at Monte Video on my way.

The Chief Justice: How long did you stay there?

The Claimant: A day or two before I sailed.

The Chief-Justice: In your examination in chief yon were asked how long you stayed at Valparaiso the first time, and you replied seven or eight weeks. What do you mean by that?

The Claimant: When I speak of Valparaiso T mean the whole country. By seven or eight weeks I meant from the time I went into Valparaiso harbour till I left it again.

The Chief-Justice: When examined before Mr. lion pell you said four or five weeks.

The Claimant: They both mean one thing. I can't be particular to a day or so.

The Solicitor-General: You were never but once at Melipilla?—Yes.

That was some time between a fortnight and three weeks?—Yes.

And during that time you made the acquaintance of the persons mentioned in your letter to Don Tomas Castro?—Yes.

You were hunting and shooting together?—Yes.

Did any of them speak French?—Yes; Alcalde spoke it.

He is dead, isn't he?—I don't know.

Would you mention me the name of any one living person in Melipilla who spoke French?—Yes; Verenguel spoke it, and so did Pedro Pablo Toro.

You couldn't speak Spanish?—Not a word.

Could they speak English?—No.

How did you get on?— The conversation that passed was communicated from one to another.

Did Castro speak French?—Only a word or two.

How did you manage to get intimate with him?—His wife spoke French, and I stayed at his house.

Well, now, you started in the Bella; what sort of ship was she —the size, rig, and so on?—She was what is called a ship.

Ship rigged?—Yes.

Do you know what her burden was?—No.

Did you know what her cargo was?—Yes: but I ought to tell you that Mr. Holliscombe told me, and I must also mention that in speaking of Mr. Cox the other day I meant Mr. Fox, and that in speaking of " Mr. Bennett" I meant Mr. Benneton.

Well, what was the cargo?—Mr. Holliscombe told me it was logwood and coffee.

What sort of weather had you?—It was very rough the night before she went down.

What was it when she went down?—Very fair weather.

No difficulty in launching the boats and getting into them?—No, not more the ordinary difficulty there would be at sea.

Were there any other passengers on board?—No.

Was she fitted for passengers?—Yes, I think so. She had cabins. She wasn't fitted as a passenger ship, but she had accommodation.

Do you remember exactly when she sailed?—On the 20th of April, 1854, I think.

Is that your recollection? Or did you get it from Lloyd's books?—Certainly not from Lloyd's books.

How did you fix on the 20th of April?—I suppose you're going to allude to the letter I wrote from Australia to my mother, in which I mentioned the 22nd of April?

Well, I was; but I see you're too quick for me. (Laughter.) The starting of the Bella has been given by you with singular accuracy as having taken place on the 20th of April, 1854. How came you to state in your letter to your mother from Wagga that it was the 22nd? Where did you get that from?—From my memory.

You had nothing to refresh your memory at all?—No.

Where did you write this letter, dated 22nd of April, 1854?—From Rio, before I started.

Can you give me the date of any other letter written about this time?—No. For the future I won't give you any dates, and I shan't make a mistake. (Laughter.)

I musn't say it would be the safest plan. Had you seen an Australian advertisement when you wrote home in January, 1866?—I think not up to that time. It was distinctly stated in the advertisement that the Bella left on the 20th of April; so I shouldn't have mentioned the 22nd if I had seen it.

You have told us about the ship going down, about getting provisions from the longboat, and all that. You were picked up, you think, by the Osprey. What kind of ft vessel was she?—A large vessel.

Larger than the Bella?—Yes.

From what port did she come?—I don't know.

There wasn't " Osprey, " of some place, painted on lier?—I don't know. I was three months on board, but I was ill nearly the whole of the time.

Do you know the name of the captain who saved you?—I am still under the impression it was either Lewis Owen or Owen Lewis.

Can you tell me whereabouts she picked you up? In the sea?—Yes, I can't say.

Did you ever inquire of the captain?—No.

You were known by the name of Tichborne?—Yes.

And known to be a young English gentleman?—Yes; and treated as such.

Did you live with the captain?—Yes, when I was able to go to table.

Can't you recollect for certain the name of the man with whom you went to table?—I tell you that was the name—the name I gave you.

Did you ever find out from him what port he belonged to?—I did not.

Was she a passenger ship?—There were passengers on board.

Can you give me the names of any of them?—No.

Did you ask them where they were going to?—They were going to Melbourne,

Did yon make any friends or acquaintances on board the Osprey for the three months you were there?—No, nothing more than the usnal thing on board ship. I could not even tell you now the name of any one family amongst the passengers who went with us in the royal mail boat to South America when we were going out to attend the commission in Chili.

What kind of passengers were on board the Osprey?—They appeared to be English.

Talked English, did they?—Yes.

What number—ten, twenty, thirty?—No, eight or nine.

You can't tell me where she came from?—No.

Did she stop anywhere?—Not after I was on board.

Went straight to Melbourne?—I think so.

Are you sure?—I am not. I was delirious for a long time.

How long were you delirious?—Over two months.

Was there a doctor on board?—No.

Used you to have medicine?—Yes, a little.

Who gave you the medicine?—The captain, I think.

Was the crew of the Osprey foreign or English?—It was an English crew.

Did you ever find out who the owners were?—No.

What was her cargo?—I have not the slightest idea.

Did you pay the captain anything?—I don't know whether I did or not.

Did he ask you for anything?—I have some faint recollection of giving him a cheque.

Did he ask you for it?—I think not.

He nursed you for two months, and you lived at his table. Haven't you anything more than a faint recollection?—No.

Upon whom was the cheque drawn?—It would he Glyn.

In your banker's books there would be an account of it?—When the cheque arrived there were no funds.

Oh, then was there a cheque, and was it dishonoured?—Mr. Hopkins told me that during my absence a cheque came to Glyn, and that the money had been taken from Glyn previously. The cheque was sent to Hampshire, and Mr. Hopkins got it.

Then that was the cheque for the captain?—It must have been—there was $$Unclear$$ other.

Where did yon draw the cheqne?—It must have been on board ship.

Can't you tell roe positively whether yon gave it to him or not?—No.

Can you tell me for what amount you drew it?—The only thing it would be for are clothes I had taken from the ship's stores, and any wine I might have had.

Do you recollect the amount?—No. Mr. Hopkins told me it was between £17 and £18.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

Had you changed your attorney on the 1st February, 1869?— No, but I was about doing so.

Now, that is no reason. I ask you why you did not go?—Because I had not sufficient funds.

That is the reason then?—Yes, and also that I could not leave my affairs in England.

Did you not think it important that you should go and confront these persons who had said that Castro and Orton were the same person?—No doubt I did; but I had not the money to take me there.

To whom did you apply to find funds for that purpose?—Well, I asked Mr. Moxam to get me money, and I believe he tried his best to find it. Do you mean for that specific purpose?

Yes.—Oh, I don't know that I mentioned it to him.

Did you make any application to any individual to find funds for that specific purpose?—I can't say whether I did or not.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine explained that the affidavit upon which the order for the postponement was made was used two days before the claimant arrived in this country. It showed, therefore, that the affidavit was used without his instructions.

The Solicitor-General said that the affidavit was not made by Mr. Holmes at all, but by one G. Newlin.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Who is Newlin?

The Solicitor-General: At all events, he is not Holmes.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I merely wished to explain this matter until I could call Mr. Holmes.

The Claimant: I should like to know who George Newlin is.

The Chief-Justice ordered the affidavit to be sent for.

The Solicitor-General: I want to know why, if this was so important, you did not proceed after you had undertaken on the 1st of February to go there?—I don t know that I undertook to go.

But why did you not go?—Because I had not the funds, as I have stated, and because I could not leave my affairs.

But you knew persons had said that you and Orton were the same?—Not that me and Orton were the same. I am not Orton, you know. (Laughter.) I am well aware that Mr. Mackenzie and other agents on your side endeavoured for two or three years to persuade people that I was Orton.

The Solicitor-General: You know that it is perfectly untrue.

The jury asked what amount would have been requisite to enable the claimant to go to Australia and attend the commission.

The Claimant: About £200 I should say.

You were represented by counsel and attorney, and called witnesses?—Yes.

And you found funds for that?—You must remember that my counsel did not attend part of the time on account of not having funds, and so you had it all your own way.

Do you mean to swear that your counsel was not present during the whole of the commission?—Yes; I have been told so.

Can you point out a single witness who was not cross-examined by your counsel?— you expect me to do that now?

The Chief-Justice: Do you remember a single witness?—There were several, my lord.

The solicitor-General: I ask if you can point to a single witness who was examined without your counsel being present?—I say there were several.

I challenge you to point out one.—And I accept the challenge.

Mr. Serjeant Eallantine said that a proper explanation could be made on the subject. Witnesses were called who never were examined at all.

The Solicitor-General: My question is whether there was a single witness who was examined when the claimant's counsel was not present. You were represented by counsel and attorneys upon every day of the commission, and you found funds for it. Why could you not find them to enable you to return?—Those funds had been found previously.

Mr. Wyatt represented you as your attorney?—Yes.

Did it not appear to you to be of importance that you should attend in Australia?—No; it appeared to be more important that I should stay at home.

The Chief-Justice: £200 would not be sufficient to pay for the attendances at the commission.—I obtained a large sum for that purpose previously, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Then you did not present yourself to any of the witnesses either in Chili or Australia?—No.

Did you ever let your friends in this country know that you could not go out to Australia for lack of funds?—No; they all knew I was not going out.

Had you on the 21st August, 1868, raised £5,000 for your expenses, and the expenses of the Chilian and Australian commissioners?—Yes; I raised a fund of £5,000.

Would they not have gladly found you £200 more in order that you might go and confront the witnesses m Australia?—They declined to grant me any more.

Did you know two men named Ham and Hales, in Hobart Town?—No.

Were you fellow-servant with Hales at Mr. Wilson's?—No.

Were you in the service of a butcher at Newmarket, Hobart Town?—No, I never was m that place in my life.

Did you know Mr. Milne Gibson, the member for Hobart Town?—No. I did not.

Did you know a Mr. Hopwood, who had been for some time a butcher there?—I did not.

And was he not in the service of a Mr. Johnson at Newland Park? I don't know any such person.

Were you in service with him at Mr. Johnson's?—I never was in the employ of Mr. Johnson in my life.

Did you go with him from Mr. Johnson's employ to Mr. Foster's?—No.

Did you know a Mr. Shotler?—No, nor any such name.

Was there not a Mr. Shotler who lived in Wapping close to the Ortons?—I don't know any such name.

Were there two brothers Shotler, one in this country and one in Australia, and were you ever in partnership with one of them?—No, never.

Do you remember seeiug Mr. Hopwood at the Commercial Hotel in Wagga Wagga when you were going by the name of Castro, and that he said to you " Halloa, Arthur," and that you put your finger up to sign him to be silent?—I say I don't know the man at all.

Did you not say to him, " Don't you say anything about my having gone by the name of Orton?"—I tell you I don't know the man at all.

Is it true that you had to leave Sale on account of two horses?—No, that I swear.

Did you ask Hopwood not to say anything at all about it, and did he reply, " Very well, I wont?"—I don't know the person, I say.

Did you ever say to Mr. Anderson of Hay that you were present at the opening of the first butcher's stall in Hobart Town?—No.

Did you know Jacobus Adrianus de Moulin, an overseer at Boisdale?—Yes.

Did you tell him you had been at Hobart Town, and had a horse and cart there?— No.

Did you know Andrew M'Alliston?—Yes, but be didn't know me. He was not in service with me at Mr. Foster's. I was there a long time before Orton. I went to Mr. Foster's in 1854, and I left in the latter part of 1857.

Did you know John Higgins, of Sale?—No.

Did he know you at Hobart Town?—Certainly not, for I never was there.

Did you know him at Sale?—No.

Did you know his brother at all?—Certainly not.

Did you know John Ray at Sale?—No.

And he never knew you at Hobart Town?—Certainly not.

Or Andrew Hutton?—Yes.

Of Barnsdale?—I don't know where he lived, but he was called the Hicghlandman.

Was he in the employ of Mr. Foster?—Yes. He went down with me from Melbourne to Gipsland.

Did he know you as Arthur Orton?—Certainly not.

Is it untrue that a man named Orton was there, and not Castro?—I was there, and Orton too.

Did you know Patrick M'Manus?—You are not going to pass over it like that, are you?

The Chief-Justice: Why so?—I have read Hutton's evidence, and he says that he made a mistake as to me.

The Solicitor-General: Have you read the evidence with care?—No; quite the reverse.

You catch things apparently without much trouble. Do you know Patrick M'Manus, of Reed's Creek?—No.

You never told him you came to Tasmania in charge of two horses?—No, I did not.

And that you were afraid that there was a warrant out for you?—No.

Do you know that some horses that belonged to a man named Phillips were lost?No; I was not cognisant either of Phillips or his two horses.

Or that there was a reward of £10 offered for them?—No.

Did you say you were going to look after them, and never came back?—No; I have been to Reed's Creek, which is another place.

Did you know Nicholas Ray?—I think a man of that name lived on a river that I know.

Did Mrs. Foster marry again?—I believe so. I have heard so through the commission.

Do you mean to say it is untrue that you went into her husband's employment from a Mr. Johnson?—Yes, it is quite untrue.

You went by the name of Castro?—Yes.

If she was to say, then, that there was no person of that name in her husband's service, but that there was a man named Orton, who came from Johnson's station, would that be untrue?—Yes.

Did you know Mr. W. Montgomery?—Yes, a magistrate.

Did he arbitrate in a case of wages between you and Mr. Foster?—No ; I never had any dispute with Mr. Foster about wages at all.

Have you read his evidence?—No, I think not.

But you read the latter part of Mr. Hutton's evidence? Have yen not read the evidence of Mr. Montgomery?—Well, I have looked at it in different places, and some things have been pointed out to me. I am under the impression that I have not read Mr. Montgomery's evidence.

Do you know Mr. Daniel Sale, a saddler, of Sayer?—No, I don't remember the name.

Did he know you when you were in Foster's employment as Arthur Orton?—I never was in his employ as Orton. I was there as Castro all along.

You have read the evidence of some of these persons?—Yes.

Is it true that some of them recognised you as Arthur Orton? —Well, they recognised me, but not as Orton. It was by a lot of photographs which your party smeared all over, and it was impossible to recognise any individual correctly by them.

The Solicitor-General directed some of the photographs to be shown to the jury.

A photograph—perfectly legible—was submitted, but it appeared not to have been shown to any of the witnesses, and it was withdrawn.

Mr. Sorjeant Ballantine objected to photographs being exhibited, and contended that the learned gentleman ought to give evidence before he did so. There would be a great conflict on the subject of photographs.

The Chief-Justice: It is intended that the jury should inspect only in order that they may see whether or not they are smeared, as the claimant has alleged.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said he had no objection, but the proper photographs must be produced.

Seven reduced copies of photographs used by the commission wore then handed to the jury.

The Solicitor-General (to the claimant): Are those the photographs which you say were smeared?—I am not speaking of the Sydney photographs, but of those taken at Winchester.

Were the witnesses wrong in swearing to this one as the portrait of Arthur Orton?—Yes; it is a portrait of me.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The jury must not at present assume that these photographs have been recognised as the portraits of anybody.

The Solicitor-General: Just take the whole series of photographs, and say which are smeared—Well, this one is, D 10, D 7, D 6, and D 8; and here is another, blotched all over. There are two photographs in the case whioh are not exhibited.

The Solicitor-General: Then let them be removed.

The Claimant: The difference I have pointed out is very great; it prevents a person almost from recognising them.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Do you complain of D 5?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General: Then you complain of D 5, 6, 7, 8, and 10?—Yes.

And they are said to be smeared for the purpose of making them unrecognisable?—Yes.

The Chief Justice (to the jury): At present you have no evidence as to whose portraits they are. They are only shown to you for the purpose of letting you see whether they are smeared or not.

The Claimant: It is very hard, when I know such things have been done, not to mention it.

The Chief-Justice: Your counsel, no doubt, will take advantage of it if you remind him at the proper time.

The Claimant: The chances are that I may forget all about them.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I shall produce the originals at the proper time, and let the jury judge between them and those that have been produced.

The Chief-Justice: Now let us go to the cross-examination, if you please.

The Solicitor-General: Did you know Thomas Wharton?—Not by that name.

A waiter at the Royal Exchange Hotel at Sale?—I knew the waiters there.

Were you ostler there in 1858?—No, that I was not.

You are certain about that?—Quite so.

Were you there as ostler for five or six months?—No; I was never ostler at all.

Did you know Donald Manson, a farmer, at Upper Muffra?—No; there were no farmera there; nobody but a stockkeeper lived there.

Just look at this. Does it bear you signature?—No.

Not the body of the note, but the signature?—No, it is not mine; it is Orton's writing.

Will you swear it?—Yes, that I will.

You never gave to Manson a promissory note at all?—Certainly not.

The jury asked to look at the note.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I have no objection. Such a mass of writing will be submitted before the end of this ease, that one document will go but a little way.

The Solicitor-General: Do I understand there never was a case between you and Mr. Foster as to wages?—Yes, there was no such ease at all.

Did you know a Mr. Fred. Wobb, an attorney, of Sale, in 1856?—There was a lawyer, I believe, of that name.

Did he not appear and conduct your case for you?—No. Certainly not.

Then if he has said that he did appear for you he has spoken falsely?—Yes.

You never were his client at all?—No.

Did you know Mrs. M'Manus?—No, I did not.

And you never were employed by her husband?—I never was.

Do you mean to say that you were not in the employ of these persons, and paid by them from time to time, from June, 1859?—I don't know them personally, and never had any dealings with them.

Did you know Steadworthy, the blacksmith, of AVagga Wagga?—Yes, I did.

Did you tell him you had been at work for a man called Burrows at Deniliguin?— Yes, very probably I did. I was at work there.

Did you tell him that you and your father were Spaniards?—I did not.

Did you know Patrick Reardon?—I did.

And you knew him well?—Yes, very well.

Were you often in conversation with, him?—Yes.

Did you ever mention a man of the name of Shotler to him as a mate of yours?— Certainly not. I never knew the name at all.

Did you tell him you had known Shotler at home, and that he lived close to your place at Wapping?—I did not.

Did he say he knew you well?—No; neither did I know him.

Did you know that Reardon wrote to S ho tier, and had an answer, and that when he was about to write a second time he said to you—" Will you write your reel name inside this, and 1 will seal it up and send it "—and that you refused to do so?—No, I did not.

Is it a dream or an invention?—Well, it is not true.

Did you know a man named Tyson?—I knew a person called Flash Harry.

Did you ever say to Reardon that Flash Harry had said he knew you in every town he had been in under different names, that your real name was Arthur Orton, and that you were properly known as the big Arthur?—I did not.

Did you ever say to Reardon that Shotler wanted to get your real name?—No, I never heard of the name.

Did your ever write in the book I have produced, and give it to Reardon—I mean the words " R. C. T., Hampshire, England?"—I am not aware having given the book to Reardon.

Did you ever write your name in the book and say, " There it is—that's the name; I will leave you to guess it?"—No such thing; no conversation of the kind ever passed between us. I very much doubt whether Reardon was there when the words were written.

Then how did he get the took?—Well, when I gave up the place there was no one to carry it on but Reardon, and he came by the book in that way.

There was no conversation about Shotler?—I never heard the name before.

Would it surprise you to find that he did live in Wapping, close to the Ortons?—It would not. I don't know anything about him.

Would it surprise you to find that such was the case?—It would not surprise me to find anything you did—I mean the questions that you put to me.

Was Mr. Reardon a Wapping man?—No, be was a native of the colony. I am not certain that such a conversation as you have mentioned ever passed. It has to be proved yet.

Did he not use the name of Shotler as a friend of yours?—He was no friend of mine; I didn't know the man. I don't see how he could say that he was. A man would not, I should think, tell such a deliberate falsehood.

When you read the evidence through, was your attention called to the name " Shotler"?—I believe I saw it mentioned.

Would it surprise you to find that he lived at Wapping?—No, it would not.

Did you ever tell M'Manus that you were a native of Chili?—Certainly not. I don't know the man.

And that you had come to Tasmania in charge of two horses; that you had belonged to a firm of butchers there, and that you had been to Gipsland and afterwards to Reedy Creek?—It was not me at all.

Do you know John Clarke?—Yes.

An hotel-keeper at Wagga Wagga?—Yes.

Did he know you under the name of Castro?—Yes.

Did you want to rent a butcher's shop of him?—No.

Did you want support in buying cattle for your business?—No.

Did he say he could not give you support because he had been taken in by others?—No.

Did you not say that you were the only butcher left in the town then?—No.

Did you not tell him that your father was a butcher in Wapping, and kept stalls in Newgate and Smithfield?—No, I never had any conversation of the kind with him.

Not under the name of Castro?—No.

The Court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the reassembling of the court the cross-examination was resumed.

The Solicitor-General: Did you know a loan named Moxon who lived at Wagga Wagga, kept a store there, and lived there since 1853?—Yes; he kept a hotel, and not a store.

Did you ever have a talk about butchering with him?—I never had any conversation with him except about business.

Did you tell him you had served your time as a butcher at Newgate or Wapping?—I did not.

I think you told me you knew Stedworthy?—Yes.

Had he rather a fine bulldog?—He had a bulldog.

Do you recollect seeing him when his clog helped you to " yard " a bullock?—I often baited a bull with him.

Did you, as Arthur Orton, admire the bulldog, and say he reminded you of a breed of dogs you had known in London?—I certainly did not. I never saw a greater cur than his in my life. (Laughter.)

Did you know Thomas George Booth, a printer and compositor, at Wagga Wagga? No, I think not.

Do you recollect ever speaking Spanish to any one at the Australian Hotel?—I never spoke it there.

Did you know Blewitt?—Yes, very well.

Did he ask you where you learned Spanish, and did you not say, " Because my father was a Spaniard married to an Englishwoman, and he was a shipping butcher living in London?"—Certainly not.

Is that (letter produced) your handwriting?—Yes.

It is a receipt given to Mr. Booth for meat, so you must have known him under that name.—Evidently; but I can't remember the name.

Did you have the conversation that I have been suggesting to you with that man?—Certainly not.

Tell me as shortly as you can, when you landed iu Melbourne in 1854, the names of the different places you went to. You first went from Melbourne to Mr. Foster's in July, 1854?—Yes, and from there to Dargle.

How long were you with him before you went to Dargle?—I think it was over twelve months.

That would be in 1855?—Yes.

You were still in Mr. Foster's employ?—Yes.

How long were you at Dargle?—Fifteen or sixteen months.

That would bring it to 1857?—Yes.

Still in Mr. Foster's employment>—Yes, I had charge of the station; in 1847 I went to the home stateion.

How long were you there?—Between two and three months.

What were you doing at the Boisdale Station?—Stock-keeping.

I was not in Australia, so you must excuse me if I ask what is stock-keeping?—Looking after the cattle and branding them. At the time of mustering and gathering the stock-keeper brings the stock into the yard, and he is employed in branding and keeping them in different classes.

Were you by yourself?—No; there were over twenty men together.

Did you do your work with other people?—When you are on the " run" you are by yourself, but at the mustering you are with other people.

When you were first on the " run" were you by yourself>—No, not for two or three months, until I knew the run.

That would be the ease with any one put on for the first time?—Yes; but there is less difficulty with a man who was on other " runs'' than with a man coming on for the first time. I was amongst the horses first.

Was there a hut on the " runs " to which you were sent?—Oh yes scores.

How soon were you quite alone?—I should think at the end of three or four months.

Then you were left to a " run " by yourself?—No; only a portion of the "run."

Do you remember any of the men who used to go out with you first?—Yes. There fas Andrew Upton, Mould, David Campbell, and a lot of them.

Was there the same kind of work at Dargle?—No; it was a " weaning " station There were no young stock there.

Where did you go next?—To Flooding Creek.

What did you do there?—Nothing. I was there only three or four weeks.

Where did you go next?—To Stratford.

What did you do there?—Nothing.

How long were you there?—Only a few days.

Where did you go next?—To Lamitchele.

What were you doing then?— I was minding horses for Mr. Mc.Leod.

How long?—A few months.

Where did you go then?—I crossed the mountains to Dargle.

Where did you go then?—I went from Dargle to Bruden.

And then?—I went back to Dargle and then to Omao.

What did you do there?—I drove horses for Thomas Day and Sheehan. I remained on the diggings for some time.

How long?—Backwards and forwards about seven months.

That would bring you to 1859?—No, about the middle of 1858.

Where did you go then?—I roved about different parts of the country.

For how long?—Up to 1860, I think,

The Chief-Justice: Had you any occupation?

The Claimant: No, my lord, except buying a few horses at one station and selling them at another.

The Solicitor-General: And in 1860?—I went to Deniliquin.

How long did you stay there?—About twelve months.

What were you doing?—I was breaking in horses for Burrowes, and looking after his butchering business.

Where did you go next?—To Hay, on the Murrambijee.

How long did you remain there?—About twelve months.

With whom were you there?—John Ward.

In what capacity?—Looking after his establishment.

What do you mean?—Looking after his cattle; he also slaughtered.

Did you slaughter also?—Yes, sometimes.

Where did you go after?—I went running the mails for three months.

What was your next employment?—I went to Gundiggai.

What did you do there?—Mind horses.

Where did you go then?—I went to Toomut, and then to the Yarra Yarra, where I broke in horses for James M'Laren.

How long were you in Mr. M'Laren's employment? A little over two months.

Where did you go then?—To Wagga Wagga.

What, year would this be?—1862.

Where did you go then?—I stayed there till I left.

What were you doing?—I was living with Mr. Higgins the principalest part of the time.

What was he?—An hotel keeper, and also a butcher.

Did you slaughter for him?—Yes.

Constantly?—No.

Often?—Frequently.

Did you continue to do it up to a short time before you came away?—Till about six months.

The Chief-Justice: Slaughtering all the time?

The Claimant: No, my lord; there were others there. I was manager, and when they were absent I slaughtered.

The Solicitor-General: What were you doing during the six months you were not in Higgins's employment?—Different things.

What were they?—I used to bring cattle for people and look after horses.

During the whole of this time you knew you had a balance at Glyn's, and £1,000 a year besides. You must have been hard up?—Yes, sometimes.

Why did you not draw?—Because I didn't wish to do so.

Can you tell me did it never occur to you you might relieve yourself when you were hard up by drawing upon Glyn?—It certainly did; hut you must remember I was never hard np until late years.

When yon were knocking about with Foster?—That is right enough; but I was not in want of money.

The Chief-Justice here complained that the claimant did not speak audibly and distinctly, as he had done on other days since the commencement of his examination.

The Claimant: It must he remembered that I have been in this box tor several days.

The Solicitor-General: Yes; but you are sitting and I am standing.

The Claimant: No matter; it affects my body and mind.

Cross-examination continued: Did it never occur to yon to draw on your banker?— At this length of time I can't tell you whether it did or not.

You had had no quarrel with any member of your family?—Yes; I had with my father before I went away.

Did you write to him after you went?—I did.

Did he reply to you?—Yes; I heard from him at Rio.

Was it not an affectionate letter?—No.

I'll put a stronger term. Was it not a very affectionate letter?—I mean to say that the letter I received at Rio was anything but an affectionate letter.

Just see if that (letter produced) is Sir James Tichborne's handwriting. — Yes, it is; but it is not the letter I am speaking of.

Did Lady Tichborne show you that letter?—No, she did not, and I don't think I have ever seen it before.

Will you swear that?—I don't see how I can do so; it is dated the 6th of March.

Do you mean to say Lady Tichborne did not show you that letter?—I mean to say it, and I mean to swear it.

Does the letter appear to be addressed to yourself?—It does, but it appears to have been returned from Rio.

Is that (another letter produced) Lady Tichborne's handwriting?—Yes.

Did you receive it?—No, certainly not.

Do you mean to say that you never received that letter from Sir James Tichborne or the letter from Lady Tichborne?—I mean positively to swear that neither the one nor the other was ever shown to me by any person.

The Solicitor-General: I now mean to read the letters.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I object. It is a communication, or supposed communication, not brought to the attention of the witness.

The Chief-Justice: The question here is the title to an estate.

Serjeant Ballautine: No doubt, my lord. With regard to the title itself there is no question at all. Supposing the question was whether or not the son of Sir James Tichborne was entitled to the estate, then the statement of the family would be pertinent; but the present issue is whether a person is or is not the person who would be entitled to the estate if he established his identity.

The Solicitor-General: There is a declaration by two persons, the alleged father and mother, through one of whom he claims to be the heir.

The Chief-Justice: I don't know what this letter of Sir James Tichborne is.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Your lordship had better look at it, because this is a question of considerable importance.

After some discussion between counsel,

The Solicitor-General said he was desirous to read the two letters, but if his learned friend thought it better to keep them out he would not press the matter.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: If he will allow me to put in the other letters I will allow these to be put in.

The Solicitor-General: I will allow every letter from Lady Tichborne down to the loss of the Bella to be put in.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Yes, of course you will, but I want more than that.

Cross-examination continued: You say you had a quarrel with your father?—Yes.

Is that (letter produced) your handwriting, or, rather, Roger Charles Tichborne's?— Yes

His handwriting?—It is my handwriting.

Had you received letters from Lady Tichborne before you left London in February, 1853, one of which contained an introduction to the French convents in South America?—I received several letters.

Had you any with introductions to the French convents?—I can't say.

Just listen to this:—

34, St. James's-place, London.

I was very much obliged for your two letters, especially the one which contained an introduction to the French convents in SouthAmerica, which I found on my arrival the night before last. It is now too late for me to alter in the least all the different arrangements which I have made to go and travel abroad for a year or eighteen months. My passage is paid for and almost everything finished. The French ship on board which I have taken my passage does not sail on the 20th of this month, as it was first intended, some delay having taken place in loading the cargo, which will prevent her from sailing till the 26th or 27th of the month, but it is decided, that sho will sail on either of those days. I wish, my dear mother, that you and my father would not make yourselves so unhappy about my going to travel abroad. Nothing unpleasant, or disagreeable, or dangerous will occur to me during my travel in South America. I have, too, what you know very well, no wish to go to Italy now. If you are still anxious after I come back from America, I shall go there to oblige you, but now I sincerely wish that you and my father would make your minds easy. Tho last accounts from my uncle were much the same; he is though, I believe, a little better than othorwise. The weather is very cold in London at present. All the streets are full of snow. The pavement is very slippery. I have not yet been able to go and see Alfred, but I hope to be able to go to Downside either to-morrow or the next day. I shall not forget to speak to him about what you told me. Pray give my love to my father, and believe me, my dear mother, your very affectionate son. R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

That is dated the 19th of February, 1853. Had you a quarrel with your father then, or was it made up?—It was made up so far that I never alluded to it.

The Solicitor- General then read a letter written by Roger Charles Tichborne to Sir James Tichborne, describing what he saw on his voyage to South America, and mentioning the places he intended to see. It is dated Valparaiso, 29th June, 1853, and is almost word for word the same as that written to Mr. Gosford on the same date, and which was read yesterday. It concludes with " Your very affectionate and dutiful son, R. C. H. Tichborne."

Do you mean to say you were on bad terms when that was written?—I mean to say what I said before, that there had been a quarrel.

Was that continued when you were in Australia?—Certainly not.

The Chief-Justice: You said a short time since that your father's letter was " anything but affectionate?"

The Claimant: That was perfectly true. I mean as regards the letter I received at Rio.

The Solicitor-General: Is that (another letter produced) Roger Charles Tichbornes writing?—Yes.

Is it the last, so far as you know, that Roger Charles Tichborne wrote to Lady Tichborne before the loss of the Bella?—Not the last.

How many letters after this?—One.

Here is the letter:—

Santiago, Dec. 31, 1853.

My dear Mother—I hope you won't have felt anxious at the long delay which has taken place since I wrote to you last. I made a longer stay at Lima than I intended doing at first. It is the largest and finest town I have seen in all the coast. I found a great many more things to be seen than I had supposed at first. Lima contains 72 churches, without counting all the different convents of men and women, which are very numerous. The riches which exist in some of the principal churches are something quite wonderful. The cathedral, for instance, has above the principal altar four pillars, which are 18 feet high by 8 feet in circumference. The whole of the Ceiling is, besides that, very thickly gilded. J. shall say nothing of the other churches, which were decorated in a similar manner. I went to see twice the bull-figlits while I was in Lima. It is a kind of rendezvous for all the fashion of the town. There were, I believe, more than 10,000 persons the first day. I went also to see, several times, cockfighting, which is a great sport in this part of the world. When I had seen everything I sailed on board a schooner for Guayaquil. The scenery up the river was very beautiful, I saw there, for the first time, tropical vegetation in all its beauty. I went about 300 miles into the interior of the country, and up as far as the line. After making several excursions on the river, I embarked on board the Pacific steamer to go back to Lima on my way to Valparaiso. I remained a short time at Lima to embark a few things which I had there. I afterwards embarked again for Valparaiso on my way to Santiago, from which place I intend to go to Buenos Ayres and Monte Video, and cross the Andes, the Cordilleras, and the Pampas. I shall go from here to St. Phillip, from thence over the Andes to Mendoza, and from there across the Pampas to my destination. I got many curiosities at Lima, amongst others a fine collection of paintings done in the convents by the monks when this country was under the Spanish Government. They are just the sort of pictures to suit churches or chapel's. I don't speak of other curiosities, made by the Indians, such as crosses and small statues, which are very beautiful. I hope to find some letters on my arrival at Buenos Ayres and Monte Video. The best way to secure my getting the letters is to write on the cover, " Care of Hunt, Greening, and Co., Bahia." As I am not sure he has a house there to receive them, you had better write to London to inquire about it. As to-morrow is the first day of the new year, I wish you .and my father and brother a happy new year, and many more to follow. Pray give my love to my father and brother.—I remain, my dear mother, your very affectionate son, R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Had you any quarrel with your mother?—No.

When you were asked before Mr. Iloupell whether you had had any quarrel with your mother; you declined to answer?—Very properly too.

Why?—Because I don't see why a man's quarrel with his mother should be mentioned.

But when you were asked the question, why didn't you say " No "?—I don't know, I am sure.

Can't you tell me?—I thought it was a very impertinent question.

You say the letter I have read is the last but one you wrote to Lady Tichborne. Look at that (memorandum produced), and see if it is your handwriting.—Yes, I believe it is.

Here is what it says: " This leave is taken from a hook which my uncle valet brought from Tichborne with him. It bear the Doughty and Tichborne crest. His name is Bogle, and is now living with me. He likewise has two woodcut of Upton, the seat my uncle bought at dorsetshire, and likewise my uncle likeness. I have them in my possession to get them copied. As you have a dought of my idelity, I will send you a copie of my uncle likeness. When you see one you will see the other; I mean myself." Upon your solemn oath were the three last letters I read and that written by the same person?—Upon my solemn oath they were written by me.

The letters and the memorandum were handed to the jury.

The Chief-Justice: While the jury are looking at the letters I had better, perhaps, inform counsel that this morning I received three communications respecting this trial. The first appears to be for brother Ballantine, and I therefore hand it to him. (A laugh.) Another sent to me refers to some matters connected with the case. I hand that to both parties. There is a third from another gentleman, and I also hand that to both sides. I should be very much obliged if these communications were sent to the solicitors, and not to the judge.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I wish to call your lordship's attention to a letter which, I am sure, you will feel is highly improper. Of course, I attribute nothing to my learned friends, who appear to have been ignorant of the circumstance; but those who were a party to it committed a very reprehensible act. A letter was put in some time ago purporting to come from Roger Charles Tichborno, and addressed to his cousin Miss Doughty. It was put in some weeks ago, but it has since been handed over to my learned friends to correct some spelling, and I find written on it (the writing being evidently of recent date), " This was written the last day I ever saw Roger. Catherine Radcliffe." That letter was handed to the jury without, any intimation being given to counsel that these words were written on the back of it.

The Chief-Justice: It is a very serious matter, but you don't suggest for a moment that the Solicitor-General knew it?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I have already said, ray lord, that the Solicitor-General could not have known anything about it.

The Solicitor-General The whole of the letters were handed under cover to me by Mrs. Radcliffe about half an hour before coming into court. The purport of them I only knew, and the real truth is I did not see the documents till I put that in.

The Chief-Justice: The Solicitor-General said he was anxious to examine Mrs. Radcliffe. This is a matter that can be inquired into then.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is one of the most important dates in the whole cause.

A Juror: There is no date.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is dated by circumstance.

The Foreman: As far as the jury is concerned, all I can say is, we have yet to leam its importance.

The Chief-Justice: That shows, gentlemen, that it produces no effect on your mainds.

The Foreman: Is there any date to the memorandum.

The Solicitor-General (to the Claimant): Do you know?—Yes, August, 1866. That was sent by me to Mr. Cottie, the manager of the Australian Joint-Stock Bank of Wagga Wagga.

How did you send it to him?—By post from Sydney.

Why did you send it?—As a matter of foolishness, and no more.

He was a banker, and had lent you money, I believe?—Yes, he lent me some.

What did you mean by saying he had a doubt of your identity?—I don't think he had any doubt.

You say you sent it as a matter of foolishness?—Yes.

To this cool man of business?—Yes.

Was it on the same kind of principle that you made the will?—No, it was not. As I happened to have the leaf, I thought I would send it to him.

Was it an answer to a letter?—I can't tell you.

Why did you send him a copy of your uncle's likeness?—I can't say.

When did your uncle buy the seat at Upton House?—Many years ago.

The Chief-Justice:—What book was this leaf taken from?

The Claimant: I don't know, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: What sort of a book was it?

The Claimant: It was one Bogle had.

The Chief-Justice: Was it in manuscript or print?

The Claimant: Print, I think, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Take that book (produced), and look at the words "it bear." The claimant did so.) Look now at the words "it bear" written in the leaf of Bogle's book.—Yes, but yon don't mean to insinuate they are the same writing?

I not only mean to insinuate it, but I ask you, on your solemn oath, if they are the same.—Upon my solemn oath they are not the same.

Whose handwriting is that in the book?—Arthur Orton's.

Was his handwriting like yours?—There was a similarity to mine; but when you came to look at it you found it was not like.

The Foreman: The jury ask if the plaintiff's long silence in Australia was caused by the quarrel between him and his father.

The Claimant: Certainly not.

The Chief-Justice: Why didn't yon write?

The Claimant: Well, I had no particular reason. I didn't care about going back to sea, and I preferred going inland. In the bush there is not the same convenience for writing as in this country.

The Chief-Justice: But what about Melbourne?

The Claimant: I had no particular reason; it went off from time to time.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

THIRTY-THIRD DAY. —WEDNESDAY, JUNE 28.

THIRTY-SECOND DAY OP TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

At the commencement of the proceedings, the Solicitor-General said: I desire, my lord, to say a single word before I begin, in consequence of something that passed about a matter yesterday—I mean the endorsement of Mrs. Radcliffe's in the letter spoken of to the jury. I have communicated what I wanted to say to my learned friend, and I desire now to assure the Court that if any one is to blame it is myself. It was entirely through inadvertence that I omitted calling attention to the endorsement at the time the letter was read.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I accept in the fullest possible manner the explanation which Mr. Solicitor desires to give, and there will be no necessity for us to allude to it again.

The Chief-Justice: Not the slightest blame, in my opinion, attaches to anybody. It was an accident that might have occurred at any time. It produced no impression on my mind, and I have reason to believe that it had not the slightest effect on the jury.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I think your lordship will feel that I was justified in calling attention to the matter.

The Chief-Justice: If you had not mentioned it I should not.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: But I saw that the jury were more observant than we were—(laughter)—and under the circumstances I am not iuclined to let anything pass.

The Solicitor-General: Whatever blame there is rests upon me.

The Chief-Justice: There is no blame whatever. I now wish to revert to a different matter entirely. I have received another communication, which certainly seems entitled to more consideration than some of those which have previously been sent. I should be glad if the letter forwarded by the nobleman in France could be handed back, in order that I may acknowledge it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It has, my lord, been acknowledged on the part of the plaintiff.

The Chief Justice: I am glad to hear it. I have since received, as I was about saying, another letter, which is of considerable importance to both sides, and is deserving certainly of special attention.

A letter was then handed to counsel.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I should propose that this letter, which appears to be very important, should, with the permission of the writer, be inspected by the solicitors on both sides.

The Chief-Justice: For the present it can be sealed by the Associate of the Court.

The Solicitor-General: It appears that if it belongs to anybody it is to Mr. Gosford.

The Chief-Justice: If both sides agree to act upon it I have nothing more to say. It not the letter will have to take its ordinary course.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: If you will give us until to-morrow morning we will determine what shall be done. I take it for granted that the letter will not be parted with without the consent of both parties.

The Chief Justice: I have received a number of communications, one of which covering several sheets of paper, has no relation to the case at all. They will form a curious collection altogether.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General, was continued: Before we go back to Australia tkere is another subject about which I should like to ask you a question. What clubs did you belong to when in London? —To the Army and Navy, and my name was up at the Travellers'.

Were you ever elected at the Travellers?—I believe 1 was during my absence. My name was put up, I believe, before I went away.

Did you ever belong to it?—No, I never was there.

Did you ever belong to the Alfred Club?—No.

Do you know this gentleman (a gentleman here stood up in court)?—I can't say that I do.

Well, he is Mr. Mansfield, the police magistrate.

Sir G. Honeyman: No, no.

The gentleman corrected the Solicitor-General by stating that he was merely Mr. Mansfield and not the magistrate. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: You never saw him before?—I cannot say that I have.

Were you not a member of the Alfred with that gentleman for years?—No, I was not.

How came you to write the words in the pocket-book alluded to?—I do not know.

You had no idea, of claiming the Tichborne estates at that time, I suppose?—I did not think of coming home at the time, certainly.

How came you to put down " R. C. T." and " Hampshire, England," twice over in this book?—It was a mere matter of scribbling, and nothing more.

No object but mere scribbling?—No.

Did you show it to any one?—No.

Did you write the words in the presence of anybody?—I think not. I have no remembrance of having written them.

Will you swear you did not write them and give the book to Patrick Reardon for him to guess what your real name was?—No.

Did you give it to Patrick Reardon?—No, I merely left it behind me. I am certain I never gave it to him to guess my name as you say.

Did you write it in his presence?—I have no recollection when I wrote it.

Will you deny that you wrote it in Reardon's presence?—I can't deny it, because I have no recollection.

Mr. Wyatt was your counsel?—Yes.

Then if he asked the question whether you showed it to Reardon, he must have been so instructed?—I never instructed him.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The claimant cannot be answerable for every question counsel put. Besides, this matter is privileged.

The Solicitor-General: Did you give instructions about the book to those who represented you in Australia?—No, I did not.

Then, if Mr. Reardon said you did write it in his presence, and for the purpose of guessing your name, it would be untrue?—Yes.

How you came to write it you can't tell me?—No, I was in the habit of writing my initials everywhere. I used to cut " R. C. T." on the trees.

When was the earliest date you commenced doing that?—I cannot say.

Did you at the time you wrote these words cut the little bit off the top of the page?—I did not.

I suggest that you wrote it in Reardon's presence, and cut off the little piece of paper just before you left Mr. Higgles's employ.—I have no recollection, but I will not swear that I did not.

Will you swear that the writing was not done about a month before you left Mr. Higgins's employ?—I will not, because I have no recollection of the time.

The trees are a long way off, and I can't ask you about them. Have you got the pipe upon which " R. C. T." is cut?—No.

Was it a wooden pipe?—Yes.

And you carved " R. C. T." upon it?—Yes.

When did you do that?—I have no recollection.

Mr. Gibbes, of Wagga Wagga, discovered it?—Yes; he pointed out the " R. C. T."

You were going by the name of " T. C." at that time—Thomas Castro—and wherever you went you smoked the pipe. Can't you say when you put the initials " R. C. T." upon this pipe of Thomas Castro's?—No, I cannot.

Had you any notion at the time of coming back?—I had not.

For what purpose did you cut them on?—I cannot say.

You wanted to keep your real name concealed until you left the colony?—Yes.

Then why did you put your initials upon the bowl of the pipe?—I don't know how to explain it (laughing.) It was done, I suppose, from the habit I had of cutting out initials.

Then it was not for the purpose of calling attention to the initials?—Certainly not.

It had that effect, apparently, in Mr. Gibbes's case?—Yes.

And you did not expect or wish that?—No.

The Chief-Justice: What was the date when Gibbes recognised it?—It would be about October, 1865.

Just tell us how it happened that Mr. Gibbes came to see the initials? Where was it, and how it came about—the result that you neither expected nor wished?—I was standing under a verandah, smoking, and he came up and s$$Unclear$$ke to me.

Did you know him at the time?—Oh, yes; now I understand what you mean. If you want me to answer, I shall have to go back for some time, to the period when I asked him about taking me through the Insolvency Court.

I will not take you through the Insolvency Court.—I have not asked you to do so.

I wish you to go back to any period you like.—Well, it occurred to me to ask him if I should be liable to a criminal prosecution if I became insolvent in a friend's name. He said that I should, and I then told him not to go on with it. He then asked me if I expected to come into any property in England, and I declined to answer the question. He inquired why, and then he said he had seen an advertisement, and found that it gave a description of me. He came up to me afterwards when I was under the verandah, and said, " It is no use your denying it; if you don't write home to your mother within six months, I shall." I replied, " I will thank you to mind your own business. I have paid you for all you have done. '' He replied, " You can't deny it, for there are the initials on your pipe."

And there they were?—Yes.

And carved by your own hand?—Yes.

The Chief Justice: He referred to the advertisement?—Yes, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: That was how he came to take notice of the pipe?—Just so.

Did you know M. Delafosse?—No.

The person said to have been on board the Bella?—I never heard the name.

In your affidavit you state that a letter from Lady Tichborne had been found, dated 5th January, 1857, as follows:—

Ticlibomc Park, 5th Jan., 1857.

Lady Tichborne having heard that M. Delafosse had been, or rather was, on board la Bella when that ill-fated vessel was shipwrecked, would feel exceedingly obliged to M. Delafosse if he would have the great kindness to let her know whether it is really true that a good many passengers on board la Bella have been brought to Melborne; and also whether the captain has been saved, and where he is at present, as he would be the most likely person to give some information as to the fate of the passengers of la Bella. M. Delafosse will easily understand the extreme anxiety Sir James and Lady Tichborne have to hear some news of their beloved son, and the very great wish they have to hear of their poor unfortunate and beloved son, who sailed on board la Bella on the 20th April, 1854. They never heard anything of their poor unfortunate son since that day. They were told that a collision had taken place between la Bella and a clipper, and that several, or even a good many, of the passengers had been fortunate enough to escape, and had been brought to Melbourne. Sir James and Lady Tichborne would indeed feel extremely obliged to M. Delafosse if he would have the great kindness to let them know whether this is the case, and also whether he would give them any tidings of their poor dear beloved son Roger Charles Tichborne, ny 24 years old then when that unfortunate event took place. Lady Tichborne accidentally heard from a Mr. French, who told her he had been staying at Melborne, and that he frequently heard you mention your being on board la Bella. I should be much obliged to you. Sir, if you could let me know immediately whether you and some of the passengers of the Belli have really been brought to Melborne, and if my unfortunate son was amongst those who had the happiness to be saved. It seems to me that as perhaps you do not know the names, the Captain of the Ship would be the most likely person to know the names of those who were on Board his vessel. They do tell me that the second male has been equally saved, and lives near Melborne—perhaps one of the two might let you know whether Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne has been saved and brought to Melborne. You would indeed oblige Sir Roger's poor afflicted father and mother. I cannot tell you how much obliged we should feel if you would be so very good and kind as to condescend to make some enquiries whether Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne has been saved, where he is likely to be found. I cannot express to you the extreme affliction and anxiety about our dear son, and we will feel most grateful to you, Sir, if you will take all the information you can and let me know. I think the captain of la Bella would be the most likely person to know whether my poor son has been saved, and where he has been in quitting Melborne; in fact, I should like to know what is to be done to find him out. Pray be so good as to let him know that his mother has written to you, and that we are so anxious to hear from him, and that a letter from him would be the greatest happiness we could have in this world. I do not know whether you are French or English. I have written to you in English, thinking that it might be the case: but, if you arc French, I shall thank you to return this letter in French, and to this address:—" Lady Tichborne, Tichborne Park, Alresford, Hants."

A letter to this address will always find me; and may I ask a speedy answer, as the sooner we hear the better it will be.—I remain, Sir, your obedient and obliood servant,

LADY TICABORNE.

If you could hear where my poor son is, perhaps you might, get his address and write to him immediately, or, in fact, let him know by the safest way, as I am told that letters in Australia very often do not go to their address.

Do you know anything about M. Delsfone?—No nothing whatever.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The letter was found amongst Lady Tichnorne's papers after her death.

The Solicitor-General: Was that the case?—I suppose so. I handed over all papers that I found.

In your own affidavit you say you found it there?—Yes; I suppose that would be true.

The persons who were employed in the matter of the negotiation between Lady Tichborne and yourself in bringing you back to England were Mr. Gibbes and Mr. Cubitt?—Mr. Cubitt never acted for me at all.

He acted for Gibbes, then?—Yes.

In 1865 you mother became very anxious about recovering you and bringing you back to England?—Yes; Gibbes was acting for me at the time.

The Solicitor-General: I have, my lord, the whole series of letters, chronologically arranged, which I now propose to read. The series includes Lady Tichborne's correspondence with Australia for the purpose of possessing herself of her lost son. I now propose to read these letters, and to ask questions upon them hereafter.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letters —

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. CUBITT.)

London, 19th May, 1865.

Lady Tichborne having read in the Times of the 19th May the address of Mr. Cubitt, Missing Friends Office, thinks that she might write to Mr, Cubitt to ask him to make some inquiries whether Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne, the eldest son, was by chance in his neighbourhood. Roger Charles Tichborne is at present 32 years of age, and cannot be found anywhere; all what they could possibly guess is that he embarked at Rio Janeiro on the 20th April, 1854, but since that he never was heard of. However, there are some rumours about his having been picked up by a vessel going to Australia, possibly to Melbourne. They say that some people have been saved, and that only part of the crew has been drowned, but to what part of South America did they go they do not know. Still, they say that certainly part of the crew of the Bella has been saved, and has been picked up by a vessel going to Melbourne, and that afterwards they dispersed themselves, and Lady Tichborne has not been able to get any other information. She was reading the Times this morning, and saw that there was a Missing Friends Office in Sydney, New South Wales, and she thought that perhaps Mr. Cubitt would take some information respecting her son. He is of a delicate constitution, rather tall and thin, with very light brown hair and blue eyes. The name of the vessel on which he embarked is La Bella. He is heir to a very large property, and it is a subject of very great sorrow to his mother that he should have quitted both his father and herself. His father, Sir James Tichborne, is unfortunately dead since he went away, and his mother is always trying to get some information whenever she can. If Mr. Cubitt can hear anything respecting her son, Roger Charles Tichborne, she would be most grateful to him, and to whoever could find him out; and, though he had no reason whatever to hide name, however, he might be under a feigned name, or in some business house, or somewhere. The person who could give his sorrowful mother some information respecting her son would be handsomely rewarded. Lady Tichborne's address is, up to the month of September next, 12, Wyndham-place, Bryanston-square, London, and after that time it will be to the care of Messrs. Callagan and Co., 40, Rue Neuve de Mathurins, Paris. They think that the ship La Bella has been wrecked, but that part of the crew has been saved and taken to Melbourne, and that afterwards they dispersed themselves to every part of America, and that is what gives rise to so many conjectures. Lady Tichborne will feel much obliged to Mr. Cubitt to take all the information he can respecting her eldest son, who went away in 1853, only for the sake of knowing the world, and who, most unfortunately, has never returned home and has never been heard of since the 20th of April, 1854, when he embarked at Rio Janeiro to go to New York in the ship La Bella.—I am, Sir, your obedient servant,

HENRIETTE F. TICHBORNE.

12, Wyndham-place, Bryanston-square, London, England.

Lady Tichborne thinks that her son may have married and does not like his family to know it, and perhaps has changed his name.

(MR. CUBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Missing Friends Office, Bridge-street, Sydney, July 22nd, 1865.

Madam, —I am in recepit of your note respecting your son. The mail, however, arrived too late to give you any particulars upon the present occasion. I shall, however, use all diligence in the search, and hope that my efforts may prove successful. It is usual to remit some fee in advance; but your name is quite sufficient to assure me that this hint will be sufficient, so I shall at once commence operations, which I trust may terminate successfully,—I have the honour to be, your obedient servant,

A. CUBITT.

August 4th, 1865.

Lady Tichborne—Madam,—In writing to you last mail, time simply allowed me the honour of acknowledging receipt of your letter, and of promising my immediate attention to your commands. On the present occasion I have the pleasure again to address you, and to convey such intelligence respecting your long-lost son as will I trust be most gratifying. While I desire to be cautious lest I should inspire you with false ideas, at the same time I will not shrink from stating that which ought to suggest a reasonable hope that Mr. Roger Charles Tichborne is alive and well. The enclosed advertisement which I inserted in various Australian journals, was the first step I took $$Unclear$$ matter; this $$Unclear$$ action, eventuating in what 1 firmly believe to be his discovery $$Unclear$$ave forwarded despatches to my agents in New Zealand, to which I shall have replies next month. I have also written direct to your son, and to the colonel commanding a regiment which he has joined in that colony. In all probability, the troops now being engaged in active service there, it will require my personal interference to purchase his discharge, necessitating a voyage of 4.000 miles, and suspension for the time being of my other business pursuits. I should say that if the intelligence I have received be a fabrication it is the invention of a fertile brain. My informant could have no object in deceiving me at present; no fee has been offered him, but, on the contrary, 1 have given him to understand that until your son be identified beyond doubt, he need expect nothing, but when discovered he shall be amply compensated. What you will doem a handsome reward as stated in your letter I know not, but I maybe pardoned for suggesting that in remitting me the gratuity you ought to be guided by the amount of importance you attach to the case under the circumstances. In one sense confirmation of the death of a person inheriting entailed property would be of great value, but the unquestionable assurance that the heir to vast estates (who for years has been lost to kith and kin) still lives, is a piece of information that cannot be underrated by a widowed mother; and I have a firm conviction that my search will terminate as you desire it should. The enclosed testimonials, although obtained for a special purpose, will, I think, be of some service in dispelling any fear you may entertain with reference to remitting the reward, as my integrity in money matters is pointedly alluded to. If I fail in my search the money will be returned, with the exception of such reasonable sum as will pay the expenses I have been put to, and to compensate me for time and trouble. On receipt of a remittance, I will forward you copies of all correspondence, and give you full particulars respecting the various statements contained herein.—I have the honour to be, Madam, your obedient servant,

A. CUBITT.

" A handsome reward will be given to any person who can furnish such information as wil discover the fate of Roger Charles Tichborno. He sailed from the port of Rio Janeiro on the 20th of April, 1854, in the ship La Bella, and has never been heard of since; but a report reached England to the effect that a portion of tbe crew and passengers of a vessel of that name was picked up by a vessel bound to Australia—Melbourne, it is believed. It is not known whether the said Roger Charles Tichborno was amongst the drowned or saved. He would at the present time be about thirty-two years of age, is of a delicate constitution, rather tall, with very light, brown hair, and blue eyes. Mr. Tichborne is the son of Sir James Tichborno, Bart., now deceased, and is heir to all his estates. The advertiser is instructed to state that a most liberal reward will be given for any information that may definitively point out his fate. Gentlemen in a position to refer to shipping reports may be able to find some record of the saving of the shipwrecked persons from La Bella, and a very careful search, if with a successful result, will amply repay any one who will take the trouble to investigate the matter. All replies to bo addressed to Mr. Arthur Cubitt, Missing Friends Office, Bridge-street, Sydney, New South Wales."

Sept. 21, 1865.

Lady Tichborne.—Dear Madam,—Supplementing my communication of last month, I have to inform you, with reference to your son, that I have received a letter from my agent in New Zealand, in which he states, " I am making every inquiry about Roger Tichborne, and deem it unnecessary at present to advertise, as 1 believe I am in possession of sufficient information to render such a step needless. The early departure of the mail prevents a definite reply this month." I sincerely trust that my next letter will convey all the information you desire.—I have the honour to be, Madam, yours faithfully,

A. CUBITT.

Sydney, Oct. 3, 1865.

Lady Tichborne.—Dear Madam,—The result of my inquiries up to the present date concerning your son is contained in a letter just received from New Zealand, and of which the following is a copy:—

" House of Representatives. Wellington. N. Zealand.

" Mr. A. Cubitt, Missing Friends Office, Sydney. —Sir,— I have to acknowledge receipt of your letter of the 4th Augt. (which only reached me yesterday), enquiring for Roger C. Tichborne. supposed to be in the 3rd Regiment of Waikato Militia. I have forwarded this letter to Colonel Lynn, at Cambridge, Waikato, and I have no doubt, as he commands that regiment, he will give you every information he can respecting the person you wish to find—I am, your obedt servant,

" T. M. HAULTAIN."

My letter having got into the hands of the wrong colonel, as mentioned by Colonel Haultain, a vexatious delay will occur, preventing, I fear, the receipt of any further information before the departure of this month s mail.—I am, Madam, yours very respectfully,

A. CUBBITT.

(MR. GIBBES TO MR. CUBITT.)

Wagga Wagga, Oct. 9, 1865.

My dear Sir,—I am glad on my return to New South Wales, after a ten years' absence, to hear you are in the land of the living and thriving. I have just fixed my abode in Wagga Wagga, and trust I shan't regret my choice, as I have ever done my leaving Sydney. I see you are a sort of general agent for all persons who are in search of missing friends in Australia. Please let me know if you are in possession of any further facts respecting it. C. Tichborne than those mentioned in the advertisement—first, as to the peculiarity of his delicacy of health; secondly, as to the cause of his leaving home (England); thirdly, as to the nature of his education. I "spotted" him, I think, some time ago, and could find him, I think, and if I could would urge him to disclose himself. He was hugely disgusted when ho found I had detected him, and his real name has never passed between us. Of course, though, if his residence be disclosed, it must be his own act, as I, I need hardly tell you, seek no reward. So, as you see, as his real name has never been spoken between us, I should like the further particulars to enable me to be certain, that is quite certain, for I have scarce any doubt A poor man, named William Birtles, has lately (about April or near that time) been advertised for. He has come into property. Can you find or have you seen the advertisement? He is penniless, but would pay well for assistance in finding it. The advertisement has been seen, but I suppose it was but seldom inserted. I hope before long to revisit Sydney and see old friends, and I assure you I long to do so, for I hated Melbourne all the time I was in it. I am warned that it is long past closing time, so I am. my dear Sir. yours very truly,

WILLIAM GIBBES.

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. CUBTTT )

October 17, I865.

Sir,— I have received your welcome letter last night, and I hasten to answer it; the one you mention having addressed me in Wyndham-place has never reached me, and I have never had it.. I rejoice at having given you my banker's address, as your letter has been safely delivered to me. I need not tell you what inexpressible joy it will be to me if your informations are true, and I fervently hope they may prove to be so. I am only sorry you did not name in your letter the reward you may think fit for so inestimable affair. I have no idea what I could offer him who will devote himself to the finding out of my dear son, and I wish to be guided by you in that matter. Had you named the sum of money, it would have shortened time very much, as letters are so long coming. However, notwithstanding my great wish to be grateful with the person who will give me some valuable information, I am obliged to put you in mind that I have only my jointure, which has boen shortened by circumstances too long to be mentioned in this letter. If you succeed the reward will come out of the estate, and my son, my dear Roger, will enter fully into my ideas and wishes ori the subject. If very unfortunately you do not succeed, the expenses will and must be paid out of my own money, and my own personal resources are not so very great. It is an affair I have undertaken all alone and at my own risk, having never given up the idea of seeing my beloved son again, and I cannot help feeling very anxious at the idea of his being in a regiment where he may be shot at any moment, especially as the war in New Zealand appears to be a very murderous one; therefore, in evory way, the sooner he is out of it the better it will be. If you could persuade him to write to me, I would very soon know his own handwriting. I have the greatest possible wish that you may not spare any trouble in every way to find out my beloved son, and I assure you I will not show myself ungrateful. Your first and last principal object will be to find him, and then to persuade him to come and join me in Paris as soon as he can conveniently do it. As for the money necessary for his discharge, it will soon be found; it is a very necessary thing, and absolutely indispensable, so be very cautious of speaking of that affair, and the greatest secrecy must be obtained, at least in England, for many reasons which it is difficult to explain in this letter, but some of these reasons will prevent the reward from being very handsome if you succeed. It seems to me that if Roger will consent to give his own name, and let a banker know where he is, he will easily find the money, as I am afraid he hides his own name, and is, perhaps, unwilling to let any one know who he is. It would, how ever, be without any ground or reason for it, and I could not myself account for it, except through the love of adventures. I also think it would be a very desirable and necessary thing to find out and ascertain whether he is married or not. He was not so when he quitted England, but perhaps he may have married since, and he may have children. All these particulars ought to be ascer tained. For all that it will be a most important thing that you should go over and speak to him yourself, and perhaps to accompany him back to Paris, where I am at present, and bring him back to me, as I am so afraid that perhaps some of those people that he has got very likely acquainted with in that country might keep him back and prevent him from coming to join me either in Paris or in London. When he quitted Paris, just before his departure, his father, after having vainly tried to make him give up the idea of going away, at last told him that at least, if God was to take him, he hoped he would come back immediately to be his mother's protector. To that my son readily consented, and he said that in that melancholy case he would return to his mother. I mention this as a motive to induce him to come back to me. And now that I have, I think, entered into all the particulars necessary, I recommend you once more not to spare either time or trouble to succeed in this truly interesting affair, and to bring it to a happy conclusion. My address will be for your next letter at my banker's, as he wall always forward me my letters, wherever I am, and, in hopes to hear soon what progress you have been able to make. I remain. very sincerely yours,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

My address is Messrs. Callaghan's, 40, Rue Neuve des Mathurins, Chaussée d'Anton, Paris. I prefer you addressing all your letters in future at my banker's, as it is the safest way to got letters.

(MR. CUBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Bridge-street, Oct. 19, 1865.

Lady Tichborne.—My dear Madam,—My search progresses satisfactorily. We must not, in such a difficult case, anticipate immediate success, but my monthly reports will convince you of the earnestness with which I take up the matter. I now supplement my correspondence by giving you a copy of a letter received yesterday from a personal friend. He writes thus: (Here follows an extract from the letter of Mr. Gibbes given above.)

I am sure, my dear Madam, I feel much pleasure on being able to fortify you with every prospect of again meeting your son. Apparently this object is in a fair way of accomplishment, and if I be successful it will afford me infinite pleasure.—I remain, yours obediently,

A. CUBITT.

(MR. CUBITT TO MR. GIBBES.)

Bridge-street, Sydney, Oct. 19, 1865.

Mr. William Gibbes, Wagga Wagga.—My dear Sir,—I was in receipt of your note, and was glad to hear from one of my earliest Australian friends. During our long separation I have experienced, the various up and downs of a colonial adventurer, but I am happy to say the ups have preponderated, and I have every reason to be thankful for the share of good fortune which I have enjoyed. I am now well established in business, have an excellent connection, and independently of my local avocations have secured some valuable agencies from the old country which enable mo to hold a position in the ranks of our commercial community. I should have been pleased could you have reported more favourably of your own career. Referring to the special purport of your letter in re Rogr Tichborne, I have to thank you for your willingness to afford me gratuitous information; but I would rather desire that you treat the matter as a business transaction, and, in the event of any search terminating successfully I wish you to accept (provided the issue is owing to your efforts) such share of the bounty money that you may be entitled to, and that sharewill be arrived at when the October mail from England reaches us here in December next—that is, of course, anticipating a punctual reply to my last letters to Lady Tichborne. Beyond the circumstances detailed in my advertisement I havo little else to record. Mr. Roger Tichborne at the time he left England could little have expected to become heir to the estates in question, for his father was not then a baronet. Sir Doughty Tichborne was then the possessor of the title and property. He died without issue, and these reverted to his brother, the father of Roger Tich borne, who is since dead, and the estates consequently fall into the hands of the eldest son (by entailment), the gentleman for whom I am now searching. Ilis mother's letter does not convey much on the points to which you specially refer, but she mentions the probability that he might adopt from feelings of pride an assumed name, and that his leaving home was from caprice, and not necessity. To carry out mv object satisfactorily I think great eaution should be exercised: and I beg of you, while soliciting your kind offices, to use every discretion, and, above all, to do nothing that might induce Mr. Tichborne to retain his incognito; for rest assured that if he be so lost as not to desire a return to a position of comfort and affluence, he will carefully avoid reference to any matters that may show not only what he now is. but what he ought to be.—I remain. my dear Gibbes, yours very truly,

A. CUBITT.

(MR. GIBBES TO MR. CUBITT.)

Wagga Wagga, 25th Nov., 1865.

My dear Cubitt,— I told you in my last that if the necessary funds and something to leave behind could be got I could send in the missing man at a very few days' notice, but that I had promised not to reveal his secret against his will before the end of March next. He is so far changed from his original intentions that he is anxious to go, but his present identity must be totally disconnected from his future. I can say no more at present. I should have written on Friday, but, owing to the magistrate's want of punctuality, was kept at Court from 9 a.m. till after post-hours. I apposed you received my letter acquainting you with the certainty that ho really is Roger Charles Tichborne.—Yours truly,

WILLIAM GIBBES.

(MR. CUBITT TO MR. GIBBES.)

Bridge-street, Sydney, Novr. 29th, 1865.

My dear Gibbes,—I am in receipt of your note of the 25th instant. I have never had the letter you refer to acquainting me with the identity of Mr. Tichborne. I shall be prepared so soon as the next mail arrives from England, in the event of receiving advices from Lady Tichborne, to make all necessary advances, not only to get Mr. Tichborne to Sydney, but .also to send him to me, and at the same time, as in a previous letter I expressed a wish that this should be a business transaction, to compensate you for the assistance you have given ine in this matter. Of course, while I am desirous of carrying out your wishes as to secrecy, you must bear in mind that I, as well as yourself, must be satisfied that I get the right man.—I remain, yours truly,

A. CUBITT.

(MR. CCJBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Sydney, Dec. 21,1865.

Madam,—Your favour of October 17 is only now to hand, and the few hours left me to reply compel me to be as brief as possible. My previous correspondence will have convinced you of the perseverance with which I have instituted a search, and the care with which I have made my reports will be sufficient to assure you that I was most anxious to avoid stating anything that the facts did not justify. You will therefore not fail to give credence to my present statement that Mr Roger Tichborne is alive and well, that he is now in this colony, within 600 miles of Sydney,;.nd that it is my intention to proceed at once to his place of abode, and, to the best of my abilities, carry out all your wishes. While you might not have been able fairly to estimate what would have been a proper compensation in the event of my search proving successful, I must say that I did expect a draft by this mail at least to pay for the great trouble and expense I have already been put to, especially in the face of the fact that I might have had to make a voyage to Mew Zealand and back; and I trust that this intimation will be sufficient to secure to me, without further delay, a compensation in part. From circumstances that have come to my knowledge I agree with you that it is necessary that I should accompany your son to England or Paris, but if this can be averted I have no desire to put you to the additional expense of my passage to England and back, and the remuneration that would have to be made me for loss in my business during my absence. As to the ultimate reward, I understand by your letter that in the event of success this is to be paid out of the estate, and that in the event of failure I am to look to you for the expenses contingent upon this inquiry. Your mind will now have been relieved as to the fear of his being slaughtered in N.Z., as he is far away from the seat of war. Mr. T. will not probably reveal his own name, and when he leaves here will do nothing by which the public prints will. now of his departure hence or of his arrival in England there: so far as the secresy you desire will be maintained, and I see no difficulty in the way of confining this business to the parties interested. Your son's circumstances are of of such a character that he has not. even the means to come to Sydney, much less outfit and passage-money for his voyage home. This will all have to be provided by me, and of this fact you must not lose sight. The many demands upon my own resources will render it inconvenient to find all the funds required for the purpose above mentioned, and a remittance will be essential. A letter from you to your son I shall be glad to deliver personally.—I remain, Madam, yours most respectfully,

A. CUBITT.

(MR. CUBITT TO MR. GIBBES.)

Jan. 10, 1866.

Dear Sir, —Letter of a most important nature having been recoived by me from Lady Tichborne, it becomes a matter of necessity that I should at once have a personal interview with her son. On the receipt of her last communication I had fully purposed coming to Wagga Wagga, but my business engagements render it a matter of impossibility. I therefore have to throw myself upon your good offices, and beg that you will be kind enough to send him on to Sydney by return of mail. I am unable to ascertain the fare, but if you would procure a ticket for Mr. Tichborne, and advise me of the cost, the amount shall at once be remitted.—I am, dear Sir, yours truly.

ARTHUR CUBITT er Henry Cubitt.

MR. GIBBES TO MR. CUBITT.)

Wagga Wagga, 13th Jany., 1866,

Mr. Arthur Cubitt, Sydney.—Dear Sir,—I received yours this morning, and making instantly the necessary enquiries, discovered that Sir R. C. T. has left his last place of abodo! He has lately shown signs of restlessness; but I think he has not gone far as yet. As for my showing him to you, mature reflection has shown me that to be out of the question without his consent, even if I could at present. As after the present lapse of time I should feel myself justified in claiming (on behalf of the real discoverer, my wife) the reward, I should wish to know if th« letters you have received from England give anything definitive. As I told you the amount should not be less than £200 or £250, that amount I am willing to divide equally with you. You need, not expect T. to start unless he can leave some money behind for the person I spoke of. The mere passage, including road expenses, is about £10. 15s. One thing I may mention. I find, on observation, his nose is not aquiline, but straight, his eyes nearly grey (they change from blue in after-life), mouth rather narrow, with a retreating expression: subject formerly (and still partially) to the nervous twitching termed St. Vitus' dance. In case you may deem it desirable to send this letter home, it may be gratifying to his relatives to know that, low as he has descended in the social scale, his character for honour (and obstinacy?) has stood unimpeached by any. You had better let me have a copy of Lady T'.'s last letter, and then I can judge of matters for myself, as the information in your last is very meagre. Have you told Lady T. of the pipe with his initials on it?—Yours truly,

WILLIAM GIBBES.

(MR. CUBITT TO MR. GIBBS.)

Sydney, Jan. 17, 1866.

Mr. Gibbs.—Dear Sir, I am quite prepared to meet your views by dividing either £200 or £300 if I receive it from Lady Tichborne, deducting, of course, expenses occasioned by advertising. I have all along thought you ought to have a share, and this promise in writing ought to be sufficient. Lady T.'s letter said nothing in the shape of identification or amount of the reward. When I can get him for certain, the money shall be forthcoming for the purpose you named.—I remain, yours truly.

A. CUBITT.

(MR. GIBBES TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Wagga Wagga, N. S. Wales, 18th Jany. 1866.

Madam,—You will ere this, I believe, have had a communication from Mr. Cubitt in which my name is connected with the discovery of your son Sir R. C. Tichborne. I have prevailed on him by this post to put himself in communication with you, and I have pointed out to him the necessity of mentioning any matters that may occur to him which can only be known to you and to himself, so as to satisfy you as to his identity. I believe he was only prevented from doing so long since by a feeling you will readily understand, as he will tell you he has been following for some years humble occupation, one totally incompatible with the position he is about to fill in life. His chief desire is that no person here should be able to identify him in his future station with him in his past one. I may venture that, lowly as he has been, he has not done anything of which he need be ashamed. He is very anxious on this point, and in thus vouching for him 1 have need to vouch for my own respectability, and to refer you to Messrs. Faulkner and Gregory, of No. 1, Bedford-row, London, with whom I have from time to time during the Last eighteen years been in constant communication. Sir Roger is indebted in some amounts—I don't know how much—and he is desirous of settling these matters at the time of his leaving, in which case the draft must be sent either to himself by his present name, which would probably lead to the discovery he so much wishes to avoid, or to myself, his only confidant—not a voluntary one, I can assure you, so far as he is concerned, but simply from the amount of quickness our profession all learn, or ought to learn, from practice. This List remark renders it necessary for me to mention what would otherwise have seemed out of place—that in any communication you may favour me with you will have, not only to rely on the honour of a man who is indebted simply to his profession for his title of " gentleman," but of one who is as well born and connected as your own son. I should not make this remark except for fear you might imagine some " low attorney" wanted to make money out of him.—I am, Madam, yours obediently.

WILLIAM GIBBES.

I have seen the above.—R. C. T.

In reply to the Jury,

The Claimant said that he saw this letter before it was despatched.

(MR. CUBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Sydney, January 29, 1866.

Lady Tichborne, Paris.—My dear Madam,—Everything progresses satisfactorily with reference to your son; nothing now prevents his departure but the want of necessary funds. No doubt, under ordinary circumstances, the banks would advance this; but as you have omitted to give me any particulars by which he can be identified, I cannot prove beyond doubt that he is the right person, although I believe he is. I now quote from the last letter received from one of my agents, and dated Jan. 13th, 1866: " You must not expect Mr. T. to start unless he can leave some money behind to meet his necessities. The fare to Sydney will be £10. 15s. 1 find from observation his nose straight, eyes grey or greyish blue, mouth rather narrow with a retreating expression, subject formerly and still to a nervous twitching termed by some St. Vitus's Dance. Although lie has descended in the social scale, his character for honour has stood unimpeached by any. Have you told Lady T. about the pipe he smoked having ' R. C. T.' scratched upon it?" In conclusion, I may mention that without funds it is impossible for him to leave the colony. These must be supplied, and they shall be used by me with a due regard to your interest and that of your sou.—I remain, Madam, your obedient servant.

A. CUBITT.

(THE CLAIMANT TO MR. CUBITT.)

Wagga Wagga, Jan. 26, 1866.

Mr. Cubitt.—Sir, Mr. Gibbes has shown me a letter in which you state you have received News A great importance from my Mother. I requested Mr. Gibbes to write to you To know if the News you allude to is merely my whereabouts Or anythink connected with the Estates $$Unclear$$ I believe $$Unclear$$as receved an answer from you. But $$Unclear$$as not $$Unclear$$re $$Unclear$$ know your answer. My Giboes has no doubt made known to you that have wrote to my Mother though him. I wish you to let me know what power my Mother has invested you with, or weather you have receved any advances from her. If you have not let me know what your charges are for advertisements, and ce., That I may settle them before leaving the Colonly. Has mast likely on recepe of answer to my letter I may proceed to England via Melbourne. I dont wish my name or title to be known in Wagga; therefore Address your letters to T. C., Post Office, Wagga Wagga. You have no need to let Mr. Gibbes know that I have communicated with you. He seemed not to wish me to do so. For what reson I dont know. But most likely I shall find out.—Yours truly,

ROGER CHARLES TICHBORNE.

(MR. GIBBES TO MR. CUBITT.)

Wagga, January 27, 1866.

Mr. Cubitt,—Sir R. C. T. won't hear of any one else seeing him up here. He has written to Lady T. by last mail for a considerable remittance, and has mentioned matters that will prove his identity to her beyond doubt. Thus the matter must rest for the present until you write to Lady T. mentioning her son's letter, and claiming for tho discovery. That I think I shall leave to her liberality, and if you were afterwards dissatisfied with the amount you could say so.—Yours truly,

WM. GIBBES.

(MR. CUBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Missing Friends Office, Bridge-street, Sydney,

Feb. 15th, 1866.

Lady Tichborne.—My dear Madam,—In my last letter to you I communicated the fact that the search after your son was progressing satisfactorily. Since then I have had letters from my agent at Wagga Wagga, and one from your son. The latter I enclose. From the tone of the correspon donee from Mr. Gibbes, and from statements contained in your son's letter, it appears that an attempt is being made to deprive me of the emoluments dependent upon the success of my search; but I desire to remind you that by my instrumentality alone has the discovery been accomplished, my agents having found Mr. T. through the means which I adopted for the purpose, and that it would be unjust towards me to recognise any other than myself on the transaction. Already I have been put to very great expense, and for whatever assistance I have received it is my province to compensate my servants in the transaction, and not theirs to make any claim upon you. Mr. T. is resolved upon maintaining his incognito, and is so anxious to avoid the chance of recognition that lie will not throw off the disguise while in this colony. Mr. Gibbes, in his letter to me of Jan. 27, 1860, says: " Mr. Tichborne has written to you by last mail for a considerable remittance, and has mentioned matters that will prove his identity beyond a doubt." I am not aware of the contents of this letter, but if you be satisfied with it, it will at least convince you of the earnestness of my search and of the entire truthfulness of all the statements contained in mj correspondence. Circumstances have come to my knowledge which convince me of the danger of entrusting any funds to the immediate charge of your son. Engaged in a menial capacity, involved in debt, and unable to leave the colony until these liabilities are settled, to say nothing of a most extraordinary indifference to take up his proper position in society, you may rest assured that a sudden acquisition to status and independence may have dangerous results if funds be placed at his unlimited control; and I most seriously advise you, if you attach any value to the return of your son in the midst of his family, not to throw away the only chance of securing such a desire. I am prepared to carry out all your wishes and " fetch him to Parisbut all attempts to do so will prove abortive if you listen for a moment to the application of your son to supply him the funds for his return. From my remarks you may suppose I keep something concealed. I do n«-t deny it, but I am in many points pledged to secrecy for the present. In due course you will know all, but statements in detail at the present moment would only induce your son to remain where he is ; and, after having thus far been successful, it is my aim to consummate your wishes in their entirety with satisfaction to you and with honour and regard to myself.—I am, Madam, yours obediently,

A. CUBITT.

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. CUBITT, MR. GIBBES, AND THE CLAIMANT.)

25th February, 1866.

My dear Sir,— I did not answer your letter immediately, as I wanted to arrange with my banker Mr, Callaghan, now to send you £40; but he has no correspondent in Sydney. I must apply to an English banker; those £40 are meant to pay your journey where my son is and also to pay his own journey down to Sydney. I cannot send more at present, but I repeat once more that you need not have any doubt as to what regards the payment of the promised reward, which will be very handsome, and in proportion to the very great happiness I shall have to see my beloved Son again, but that reward will be paid out of the estate; at the same time you must not wonder if the money is not paid beforehand, the more so as you do not give any details whatever about the person you believe to be my Son; you do not name even the Town where he is, and you do not say anything about the way he was saved from Shipwreck. I should like you to go immediately to see him, as it is absolutely necessary, and]also it is equally necessary that you should accompany him to Paris, where I am, as I am afraid if lie has formed any acquaintances they will prevent him from coming home back again. I beg you once more not to spare either pain or trouble to succeed in this delicate affair, as the reward will come in time, and you will have nothing to regret; only the business must go on, and not remain at a standstill, as I am afraid it does now; besides that. I cannot pay beforehand, and before I see my own Son aga n: and I think you ought to hurry, as we never can answer for ourselves; the secret I mentioned in my other letters is now almost at an end, at least so far as it regards Rogers's safety, as it was on account of some Creditors who cannot now do anything, and therefore the secret is not so necessary, but I will explain all to you when you come with my beloved Son. You have now in your power to do a very good affair for you, and I trust you will go through it. I will explain everything to my Solicitor in London, and he will forward to you £40 to pay the journey expenses of both you and my son down to Sydney. I cannot do more at present, but later, when the things are explained to me, and when I know more about my son, of course the money will not be wanting, but now you have not said anything at all about my son, and I hardly know anything'of the person you suppose may be my son. I will send you a letter for him, and I shall expect an answer from him. As I know his handwriting very well, I shall know at once whether it is him.—In hopes to hear from you soon, and also in hopes to have more details about my beloved son, I remain, sincerely yours.

H. F. TICHBORNE.

I will ask you to be so good as to read my last letter over again. I believe I saw all that could be said on that subject. It is necessary to know whether Roger is married and whether he has children. I will thank you to send your lettor under envelope, or rather to Lady Tichborne, to the care of Messrs. CaUaghan and Co., France, 40. Rue Neuve des Mathurins, or Paris. Allow me to remind you once more to make haste and to go on with that delicate business, as we never can answer for ourselves, and let me have a letter from my son as soon as possible. Of course I suppose you will start to see him as soon as you receive this letter, as if something were to happen to me what would become of the whole affair? that is to say. it would perhaps throw difficulties in the way.

February 25, 1866.

My dear and beloved Roger,—I hope you will not refuse to come back to your poor afflicted mother. I have had the great misfortune to lose your poor dear father, and lately I have lost my beloved son Alfred. I am now alone in this world of sorrow, and I hope you will take that into consideration and come back and join me as soon as possible. You need not be afraid about the money, as the necessary funds will be found. I hope you will remember the promise you made that if God called your father away you would return and become my protector. If you go to the bankers' and announce yourself as Sir Roger Tichborne, they will advance you the money.— Your affectionate Mother,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

My dear Roger,—Write to your mother, who is thoroughly unhappy at the losses she has sustained.

Mr. Gibbs,—I write to acknowledge your letter, and also to thank you for it. I must begin by saying that to see my dear son again would be the greatest happiness I could have in this world, md having had the awful and most melancholy misfortune to lose my younger son, Alfred Joseph, I should, of course, appreciate that happiness still more, if possible; but, notwithstanding all that, Roger's identity must be beyond any doubt, and he cannot be identified till ho comes where I am, either in England or in Paris. I cannot send £400 unless I am perfectly sure of his identity, and you must understand that Roger has been three years at the Jesuits' College at Stonyhurst, and when he was 19 years of age, in 1852, he went into the Dragoon Guards, where he remained nearly 2 years. He passed his examinations well before he got into that regiment. He never knew his grandfather; Sir James' father was dead even before I married his father. Roger was born in Paris, and spoke French, I believe, better than English. I should be glad to know whether he is married or not. I enter into all those details that you may bo able to know him; but I .repeat I cannot send any money till he has been identified, and that cannot be done, I am afraid, till he comes to England. Perhaps his creditors would allow him to come over, and would consent to wait to be paid till he has been idenlified in England; and if he will not tell them who he is he must, under one pretence or other, contrive to come to England. Before I conclude this letter I must recommend you once more to try to find out the truth: so that it should bo beyond doubt that that young man is my dear son, Roger Charles Tichborne.—I remain, my dear sir. sincerely yours,

LADY TICHBORNE.

This is my address, where I wish you to send your letters, which will be forwarded to me. To the care of Mr. Callaghan, 40, Rue Neuve de Mathurins, Chaussée de Antin, Paris. I must, however, beg of you to bestow the greatest attention on that business and that poor young man, who, I repeat it once more, cannot be identified till I see him. Perhaps his creditors could allow him to go over to London to meet me, and would consent to wait to be paid till he is identified. If he is really Roger Charles Tichborne, my son, of course there will not be any difficulties. May I ask you, also, to answer this letter by the next mail to this address: Lady Tichborne, to the care of Messrs. Callaghan, &c., Paris.

(MR. CUBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Bridge-street, Sydney, April 18th. 1866.

Lady Tichborne.—My dear Madam,—I am in receipt of your letter dated Feb, 25th, and regret that its contents are not more satisfactory. In the first place, the £40 mentioned as having been forwarded to me through your solicitors did not reach me, so that I am still without any funds to reimburse me for expenses already incurred, which amount to more than this sum; and, in the second place, I am not in the position to advance the sum requisite for the outfit and passage of your son and myself to England. I cannot see any difficulty in the way of making provision for this expense. I have repeatedly stated, with a view of securing yourself against imposition, that I have no desire to touch the money (beyond what I have actually spent in the search) until the identity of your son is positive, and vouv banker in Paris can authorise the payment through the French Consul hero, or through any merchant in Paris who has constituents in Sydney. I may mention one who was for some years in this city, Moris Vial W. Aram, whose agents here arc, I believe, Messrs. G. A. Lloyd and Co. For my own sake, as well as for yours, I am most anxious to bring the search to a conclusion, but until funds are provided the matter must stand in abeyance,; and I should state that to my mind no difficulty can exist if Mr. Roger Tichborne be the heir to the estates in obtaining sufficient money to restore him to his proper position. I took the precaution to enclose in a former communication a letter supposed to come from your son, and as you say you could recognise his handwriting, you will at least be able to satisfy yourself in this respect. I have at present no details as to how he was rescued from shipwreck, but have been informed that he was making a voyage from Rio Janeiro, which so far corresponds with your account. I have seen in a " Home News," of 1852, amongst " Wills and Bequests," that of your late husband, in which it is mentioned that your only son, aged 22, was the heir. This, I suppose, was on the presumption that Mr. Roger Tichborne was not alive at the time. I will take the earliest opportunity of delivering your letter, but this must either be done personally or through the agency of one in whom I can place the utmost reliance. You may depend upon my continued exertions in this affair, but the result must in a great measure depend upon yourself.—I am, dear Madam, yours very respectfully

A. CUBITT.

(MR. CUBITT TO MR. GIBBES.)

Bridge-street, Sydney, April 18, 1866.

Mr Gibbet, Wagga Wagga.—My dear Sir,-I have kept thus long silent respecting Roger Tichborne in anxious expectation of hearing from his mother and receiving the promised reward, This mail a letter came, but no money, explaining, however, the cause, namely, inability on her part, and stating that it must be paid out of the estate, which she cannot touch. She again says the reward will be very handsome, begs there may be no further delay, and still insists upon my taking him to Paris. She do longer solicits secrecy in the matter, Things have now arrived at such a position that you must no longer remain silent, but aid me in bringing this search to a conclusion. I have promised you your share of the spoil, and as we are both interested we must both work together. I have no doubt in my mind that our efforts will be well repaid, but if you have really got the right man, both he and you must, so far as is necessary for the purposes of identity, throw off the mask.—Please let me hear from you by return of post, and oblige yours truly,

A. CUBITT.

(MR. GIBBES TO MR. CUBITT.)

Wagga Wagga, 21st April, 1866.

My dear Sir,—I rode over to Sir R. on receipt of your letter. He has written home for money to take him home and leave him a balance for other purposes. Wo wrote via Marseilles, and unless Lady T. was out of the way, or the mail delayed, we shall hear by the next mail He wrote in such a way as to convince his mother of his identity, but in order to provide against anything happening to him, wo arc going to have several photographs taken of him in different positions, so that his relatives may recognise him. He has not the slightest doubt of the executors sending him money immediately. So things must remain in statu quo until the arrival of the May mail, which he awaits with some impatience. But if it should by chance not bring the required cash, do I understand you to mean that you are prepared to advance the money for his passage and outfit? But I am sure the money will come by the June mail. Please answer my enquiry, as I could, perhaps, then start him at once in case we don't get money by the next mail. He won't go by anything but the overland mail, and will sail in his right name. He purposes returning to the colony.—Yours truly.

WILLIAM GIBBES.

(MR. CUBITT TO MR. GIBBES.)

Bridge-street, Sydney, May 2nd, 1866.

Mr. Gibbes, Wagga Wagga.— My dear Sir,—I thought that my last letter to you would have induced you to be more candid and explicit in your reply. I enclose herewith a letter for Mr. Tichborne from his mother, which you will be good enough to deliver. Lady Tichborne assures me that it is impossible for her to advance the money for his passage home, but that I must fetch him, and that the expenses, together with the reward, will be paid meat Paris. She has promised to send me out of her own resources the means to get him to Sydney, and says she can do nothing more, as Sir Roger's estate cannot be touched in his absence, as the executors have at present declined doing so in the absence of satisfactory evidence as to his identity. It appears, therefore, that it will devolve on me to take him home. The mode of transit to England must be suited to my own convenience, but, of course, a passage suited to his position in society will be provided, and the speediest mode, with a due regard to economy, will be availed of.—I remain, yours truly,

A. CUBITT.

May 8, 1866.

My dear Sir,—I was somewhat surprised at the character of your telegram. You persist in a system of perfect secrecy, and at the same time expect me to advance any and all moneys that, may be required to secure the departure of some one supposed to be Sir Roger Tichborne. What evidence have I of this? You alone seem to be sure of the prize, but I must be equally convinced; and as all the responsibility rests upon my shoulders, can you reasonably expect that I could run such a risk without seeing my way clear? A t present I have not received one shilling from Lady Tichborne, and, until I have some tangible safeguard, I cannot think of incurring further expense. The tone you lmve adopted throughout evidences a feeling of suspicion entirely uncalled for, an I so long as you persist in this course you must expect similar caution on my part.—I remain, yours truly.

A. CUBITT.

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. CUBITT.)

May 10, 1866..

Mr. Cubitt,—I received your letter, dated the latli of February: and letters are so long coming that I regret your not writing everything at once, as it makes the business take so much longer The passage money is so high, that I think that if I can do without your accompanying Roger it will be better, as it is I believe £200, and £200 for your returning home; that would make £400 for your passage alone. Of course, £200 for my dear son's coming home. That would make £600 for the passage alone. It is more than I can afford to pay: but I think Roger will come alone if he once makes his mind to it; however, you may write to me in your next letter what the passage-money would be. I think you might have mentioned it by the last mail, and also more particulars about my son's intentions; however, his identity is the first thing, and the one that will decide of everything. I cannot, however, say he is my son until I have seen him; therefore, it is most necessary that he should come over, as once acknowledged as my son, everything will go straight. I think you ought to make an arrangement with his creditors to allow him to come over to Paris to be identified, as once when he is recognised the debts will be paid out of the estates, I think you ought to be accustomed to those sort of transactions, and this one is not more difficult than any other. I do not think your expenses can bo very great beyond advertisements. There was not much done, and I will, of course, pay what is due to you. I do not believe that Mr. Gibbes intends to deprive you of anything, but as he is a lawyer it may be better to have his advice. Roger Charles is born in Pans, in the year 1829 or 30. He used to speak French, and, being very delicate in health; he was kept at home till he was 15 or 16 years of age. He then went to the Jesuits, to the college they have in Lancashire, at Stonyhurst. He remained there three years and a half. .Afterwards he went into the Carabineers, and was there for a year and a half. " He quitted the anny because his poor father and I wished it. He was still very delicate, and we were afraid his regiment (the Dragoon Guards) would be sent to India. It is then that he had the unlucky idea to travel, and he sailed at Portsmouth on the 13th March, 1853, to go to Valparaiso. He remained in those countries about a year, and then sailed on the 20th of April, 1854, at Rio Janeiro, to go to New York. Ever since that wc have never heard anything of him. They say the Bella, the ship tliat he sailed with, was wrecked; bat nobody can say it for certainty. We heard part of the crew had gone to Melbourne and dispersed about the country, and it is that that induced me to write to you on the 19th May last year, and this business has gone very slowly, I am sorry to say. When Roger went into the army he was 19 years of age; it was in the Dragoon Guards, the Carabineers. When lie quitted home he was 21 years of age, in 1853. I give you all these details that you may better know him. He is a Roman Catholic, and used to be a very good one. I do not know what his religious feelings may be at present. His father, Sir James, was a Roman Catholic, and I am one myself, and all the family is. 1 suppose you have received the letter I wrote to you in February; I sent you one for my dear Roger, and I will have answered it by the next mail. Here in Paris, letters for Sydney only go once a month. There is a man in Sydney who lived formerly with Sir Edward Doughty as a valet. Sir Edward Dqughty, Roger's uncle, left him £50 a year, and he has been living in Sydney ever since. He is a negro, quite black; he is coming from Jamaica. His name is Bogle; I do not know his address at Sydney. Roger knows him very well. I do not know whether it would be of some use to see bim, as he is sure to write to England immediately about Roger being found, and I don't think it ought to be known before Roger is there on the spot to answer for himself; however that man could identify him as well as anybody. I leave it to you to do as you think best. He may be inclined for the Collaterals, who have an interest in not acknowledging him. I have only one thing to add, which I am very anxious that that business should go on as quick as possible. Of course, if I find my beloved son again it will be a consolation to me, but he must be identified. I have written to Mr. Gills to tell him so; I am afraid my letter will never reach him. Roger never knew bis grandfather; Sir James'father was dead even before Sir James married. Since I wrote to you I have had the very cruel and awful misfortune to lose my second son, Sir Alfred Tichbome. Of course, it makes me still more anxious, if possible, to find my dearest Roger again; but, notwithstanding that, Roger must be identified, and we must be sure of his being my son, which I cannot say unless I have seen him.—I remain, Sir, truly yours,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

You had better continue to send your letters to my banker, Mr. Callaghan and Co.. 40, Rue Neuve des Mathurins, Chaussée d'Antin, Paris. Sir Edward Doughty was Sir James's brother. He took the name of Doughty because he inherited a large fortune, which will belong to Roger Charles now, if he will only come over to England to be acknowledged. I think he ought to come to meet me first either in Paris or London. The only way to go on with that business is tba: Roger should come over immediately, and when I have scon hint the things will soon be straight. Roger says in his letter that he wishes to have £200 for the passage money and £200 for a few little debts he has in Sydney.

(CLAIMANT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Wagga Wagga, Jan. 17, 1866.

My dear Mother,—The delay which has taken place since my last Letter, Dated 22nd April. 1854, Makes it very difficult to commence this letter. I deeply regret the truble and anxiety i must have cause you by not writing before. But they are known to my Attorney, And the more private details I will keep for your own Ear. Of one thing rest Assured that although 1 have been in A humble condition of Life I have never let any act disgrace you or my Family. I have been a poor Man and nothing wrorse. Mr. Gilbes suggest to me as essential That I should recall to your Memory things which can only be known to you and me, to convince you of my Idenitity. I don':, think it needful, My Dear Mother, Although I send them, namely, the Brown Mark on my side And the Card Case at Brighton. I can assure you, My Dear Mother, that I have keep your promise over since. In writing to me please enclose your letter to Mr. Gilbes, to prevent unnesersery enquiry, as I do not wicsh any person to know me in this Country When I take my proper prosttrion and title. Having therefore made up my mind to return and face the Sea once more. I must request to send me the Means of doing so, and paying a fue outstanding debts, I mould return by the overland Mail. The passage money and other expences would be over two Hundred pound, for I propose Sailing from Victoria, not this Colainly, And to Sail from Melbourne in my own Name. Now to annable me to do this, my dear Mother, you must Send me

(This letter was not finished.)

Wagga Wagga, May 24, 1866.

My dear and beloved Mother,—I received your note, date 25tii Feb., and was very glad to hear you where quite well. I was very sorry to hear of poor father and Alfred death. I Hardly know, my Dear mother, how you have borne the suspence of knowing my fate so long. You must no: blame me, mother, for I believe fate had A great deal to do with it. I wrote to you on the 10th Jan. for the first time sine I been in Australia, you will wonder why I have not wrote before. But that I will tell you myselfif should God spare my life to reach England. J am trying to get away by the Panama rout, which leaves Sydney on the 15th of June. But I do not know whether the Banker here will advance me the money or not. My attorney has promice to see him this morning. He is a gentleman, and I have no doubt will advance me the moyney. Speaking of Mr. Gilbos, my attorney, he is the only friend I ever had since I been in Australia. But I will be able to tell you more of his kindness when I see you, which I hope, please God, will not be long I watchd the last Mail when it arrived with great angoitty, hoping to have had an answer from you. But I suppose you had not time to write by the Mail. Hoping to see you about the 20th of August, I remain your beloved Son,

ROGER CHARLES TICHBORNE.

To Lady Tichborne, 40, Rue Neuve des Mathurins, Paris.

(MR. CUBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Bridge-street, Sydney, June 22nd, 1866.

My dear Madam,—After a long, anxious, tedious and expensive search, I have at length succeeded in discovering your son who, as you will leam from him, is now in Sydney, and with whom I have now had several interviews. From Mr. Tichborne himself you will learn all particulars relating to myself, and my simple reason for now addressing you is that I may do niv part towards clearing myself of serious imputations against my character, through the perfidv and deceit of one of my agents, who, with a view to acquiring gain for himself, has not hesitateto villify me in a manner disgusting to the feelings of any honourable man. Your son has beer innocently dragged into a belief of these vile charges; but, with a candour and honesty which reflect the greatest credit, has promised without delay to remedy the injury already inflicted, I am sure he will convince you how I have been maligned: so I have nothing further to say but solemnly to assure you that throughout I have been actuated by an earnest desire to serve you in this matter as a gentleman and a man of honour.—I remain, my dear Madam, your obedient servant.

A. CUBITT.

Angleterre.— Dowager Lady TicWjorne, Portland-place, London.

(CLAIMANT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Sydney, June 23.

My dear Mother, I have not received your letters yet, Has they will have to go to Wagga Wagga first. I entended to go by the mail steamer on the 14th July; But they have altered the date of departure to the first of Aug. Very anoying. I have found Mr. Cubitt. A very different person to what I represented him to you in my last letter. I have every reason to be please with him and the way in which he has enqured for me. I have my arrangement with him for the exponce and truble he been to. I likewise enclose A note from him.—Hopin, my beloved mother, soon to be with you, I remain your affectionate son.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Lady Tichborne, 27, Rue Montaigne, Champs Elisies, Paris, France.

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. GIBBES.)

London, July the 16th, 1866.

Lady Tichbome to Mr. Gibbes,— I take advantage of the mail going to Melbourne or Sydney to send you this letter. I will call myself on the captain at their office, and ask him (if he cannot lo it himself) to allow a gentleman who is going to Wagga Wagga in his ship to take this letter to you, which I trust he will do. I find that the passage from Sydney or Melbourne to London is £105; it is not necessary to have an outfit. I cannot help wishing that my dear Roger should go back with that ship, if it loaves immediately, it is the Panama Royal Mail Company, therefore I have reason to suppose it is a good ship, and a proper one. I have not received any answers to the letters I have sent to you and to my dear son Roger. I trust, however, that you have received them. I am anxious for his return, as you may suppose. I will pay the passage money to the captain of the ship, and Roger will, I hope, take advantage of this proposal, and come back immediately. If he has a few debts you might make arrangements with his creditors, so that they shall wait till he has seen me, as I cannot say that he really is my son until I have seen him, and it is of the greatest importance that lie should come over to see me, as his mother will, of course, be consulted about it. My sol'citor told me it was only a question of identity. Once recognised as my son, he will not be kept out of his property for an hour, and it would be £12,000 or £15,000 a year, and perhaps more than that hereafter. If he will consent to come over with the ship that carries this letter, I would pay the captain on his return to London; therefore it is not the passage money that can hinder him in any way. I do not know whether he has received the two letters I have written to him, one through Mr. Cubitt and one through you, when I wrote to you, I believe, in the month of May, I am come to London for a little while, aud one of my reasons for wishing to come over was to speak to my solicitor, Mr. James Bowker, about Roger's affairs, and also the probability of his coming home; and his opinion is that he must come home immediately to be identified. When you answer this, it is better and safer that you should send your letter to the care of Ms. Callaghan & Co., 40, Ruo Neuve des Mathurins, Chauss^e d'Antin, Paris, France, as usual, as Mr. Callaghan will send my letters over to London. That is the safest way that your letters may roach mo; but if Roger comes to London, and returns with the ship that takes this letter, he will always know my address here, at the Westminster and London Bank, 4, Stratford-placc, Oxford-street. Of course, if he returns with the ship it will be a great deal better. I leave it to your ability to manage that business which preoccupies mo so much. I need not tell you how anxious I am for my dear Roger coming home, and I trust you will apply your mind entirely to that important affair, so that I may have the happiness to see my dear son again. I hope that you will not spare either trouble or time to bring this delicate business to a happy conclusion, and I very much wish you may devote yourself to my dear son, as you well know, moreover, that I will not bo ungrateful towards you. I do not know whether you will think it necessary to acooinpany him; •>f course, if it is necessary to bring him safely near me, I will also pay your journey with his. No doubt it would be, perhaps, better and safer for him to come with you; and if you do really think so, you had better do it at once, and return with the ship which will bring you this letter, as, if you write to me about it, it would make the thing longer, as letters are so long to come. You will perceive by that that I do everything in my power to pave the way for his coming home, and that I give you every facility to make hirn return near me immediately, as I think it would be an advantage to him to have you with him. I trust I have explained myself well, and with every good wishes that you may succeed, and bring my son back to me, I remain, very sincerely yours,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

My best love to my dear son Roger Charles. I am staying at present 56, Beaumont-street, Portland-place, London, but it is safer that you should send your letters to the care of Mr. Callaghan and Co., 40, Rue Neuve des Mathurins, Chaussee d'Antin, Paris, France. Mr. Calhighan will send me your letters immediately, and I am not certain of remaining in this country.

(Ship's Office.)

I have called at their offices and they told me that I should pay to the office for my son's passage, and that they would send an order to the captain to take my son and any person coming with him, and that the captain would not ask him any money down. I cannot say, however, what c iptain it would be, as there are four ships out belonging to that same company. I suppose they have their office at Melbourne, where they would tell you the same thing if you were to call on them and tell them the passage money would bo paid in London; had I been certain of my son and your coming they would have sent an order to the captain of the ship that brings this letter, but unfortunately I could not say anything positive. I hope, however, that you will make Roger understand how very urgent his return home is, and I think it would be au advantage to him if you were to accompany him, and they will not ask you any m'oney down if you tell the captain the money will be paid in London, where your client's mother is.

(MR. CUBITT TO LADY TICHBORNE).

11. Bridge-street, Sydney, July 21. 1866.

Dear Madam. -I am in receipt of your letter of May 10th, and although a long one. as your son is now in Sydney, and preparing to leave for England on the 1st Septr., by the Panama route, tliere is very little to reply to. On the subject of rewarding, this has been arranged with Sir Roger, and he has given me his bills on the Oriental Bank Corporation in London, dated as to give him plenty of time to honour them at maturity. If the mail steamer arrives to hart 'me he will have about three weeks to spare before they fall due. As Sir Roger no doubt will have many important engagements connected with his estates: in the midst of these he might by accident forget to place the funds in the bank to meet these bills. I am quite sure nothing but an oversight would lead to such an occurrence, as I have the highest opinion of your son's honour; but as I am remitting the drafts to one of my London friends in payment for goods sold, I am. of course, extremely anxious that no accident of this kind should occur, as it would injure my credit and reputation. It will not, therefore, be out of place to remind Sir Roger of this engagement. He might be absent from London, and many things might occur to distract his attention from this matter. In conclusion, I have now to congratulate you on finding your son. I have no doubt of his identity, and I sincerely hope you may have a happy reunion, and that no difficulty will arise on your side the globe in restoring him to his estates.—I remain. dear madam, yours faithfully,

A. CUBITT.

Lady Tichborne.

(CLAIMANT TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Sydney, July 24, 1866.

My dear Mama,—L received your letter yesterday morning, And was somewhat disapointed that you do not acknowledge me has your son. Surely, my Dear Mama, you must know my writing. You have cause me a deal of truble. But it matters not. Has I have no wish to leave A Country ware I enjoy such good health. I have grown very stout. Yesterday one of Uncle Edward's Old servants call on me. He been living here a long while. He is name Guilfoyle. you must remember him. He was remodeling the Garden at Tichborne when I was staying at Uncle Edward's. He knew me has soon has he see me. His wife was with him. she look very young yet and yet she has eleven children. You spake of Baugle in your letter to Cubbit. 1 have made enquire, but cannot find him. Mr. Turvil is here with Sir John Yoing. I have seen him, And had A long conversation with him. I heard that the Rev. Father phillips was out here, but I can not find him. My Dear Mama, the post closes in ten minits mere for France, so I will say good bye, incase I am too late. If to late i will send this to England has the English mail does not close for two hours after the Mail for France. I have enclose a photograph of my self that you may see how greatly I have improve. Hoping, my dear mama, to see alive once more. But I am afraid not, has I can not get sueficine Money to come home with. Good bye, my Dear Mama, and may the Blessed Maria have mercy on your soul.—I Remain, your Affectionate Son,

ROGER CHARLES TICHBORNE.

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. GIBBES.)

Aug. 22, 1866.

I have received your letter dated the 26th of May only yesterday, and though I have sent you a letter also on the 25th of July, I will answer your last one immediately, the idea that my heloved son, Sir Roger Doughty Tichborne, could be wanting the necessaries of life, is a very distressing thing to me, and more so than I can explain, therefore I beg that you will continue your assistance to him, and see that he is not wanting in anything, both in clothes and also for his food as I assure you that you will be amply rewarded for it, and I will return you everything even in supposing that the executors did not do it, in fact you may rest assured that you will not lose any thing if the things go on so slowly, it is surely owing to the very great distance you are from me, it is a sad thing to consider that you cannot have an answer to my letters before 6 months are over. I would have sent him £20 to-day, but as I cannot say his real name and I do not know the other, I could not send it straight to him, therefore I send it to you and I think it will do to pay his journey from Wagg& Wagga down to Melbourne and to buy perhaps a little linen for the time he has to spend in the vessel. Your own journey I beg you to advance it, and it will of course be returned to you afterwards, I mean your own journey from Wagga Wagga down to Melbourne, as for what regards your passage from Melbourne to England I will pay both yours and Rogers at the office in London, as they told me it was the same thing, and they will send an order to their captain to desire him to bring Sir Roger Doughty Tichborne and his friend Mr. Gibbs over without asking them any money whatever; it is not necessary to have an outfit, it is even better for him to buy his clothes in England, as they will be more fashionable and better suited to him: but I must return to the subject that interests me so much. I trust that you will continue to advance him the money for his food, lodging, and also his washing, as I will return every farthing of it to you by and bye and you will be amply rewarded for everything you have done for my beloved son, and as you begun or embarked in that business I hope you will go through it, and you will find in the end that you have done a good and advantageous thing, and what men of business call a capital affair by doing it, only the distance is so great that it prevents the things from being quickly done, as for his creditors their good sense must tell them to let him come to London to be identified, for what can he do without it, and as soon as he is the things will go straight and his debts will be paid immediately, all the fortune is in the hands of the Chancellor. My poor dear son Alfred left a little boy only 3 months old, and he is a ward in Chancery, but notwithstanding all that my solicitor told me that they cannot keep Sir Roger out of his possessions for one hour when he has been identified. I fancy that the photographies you sent me are like him, but of course after 13 years' absence there must have been some difference in the shape, as Sir Roger was very slim. I suppose also those large clothes would make him appear larger than lie is. I am, however, much obliged to you for having sent them to me. I think it will be an advantage to him if you will accompany him, therefore I beg you to do so. I si tall be delighted to see you with him, he will require a very clever man to be with him, as having been so long away from England he is no longer accustomed to the English manners. I suppose you will like to come to England, where perhaps you would be better than where you are. My son Roger will I know be very happy if you accompany him, and you need not wait 6 months again for embarking, but if you could embark as soon as you have had this letter it would bo the best plan. I hope my dear son Roger Doughty Tichborne will have patience, and that you will have the kindness to take great care of him, as I felt very unhappy at reading in your letter that ho was near falling into despondency, he must have courage and now that he inear reaching the port he must go through his passage home with courage, and certainly his creditors cannot set themselves against his coming home, as it is the only way to settle that business, or rather to pay his debts, you might read them this letter if you think it can be of any use to you. I shall go to-morrow to the office, and desire them to let you and Roger know when their vessel sails, then he will soon be near me again, after so many years' absence, and as for the banker my solicitor told me how extraordinary it is that that young man will not make himself known and tell them who lie is, and also perhaps refer them to me, as he would have as much money then as he requires. The Doughty property brings in fifteen thousand a year, and it is when they inherited it that the Tichbornes have added the name of Doughty to their own family name, and the Tichborne property brings in, I believe, five or six thousand a year, therefore you see that there will be amply to reward you, and also to return you what you may advance for him at present.—I remain, dear Sir, sincerely yours,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

My best love to my dear son Roger. I trust that the £20 will do for the present and to pay his journey down to Melbourne. My address in London is 56, Beaumont-street, Cavendish-square, London, but I prefer that you should continue to send your letters to Messrs. Callaghan & Co., 40, Rue Neuve des Mathurins, Chaussee d'Antin, Paris, France. Mr. Callaghan will send me your letters as soon as they arrive, and it only makes one day's difference. Roger has in his own power to get as much money as he requires from the banker if he tells them who he is and refers them to the London and Westminster Bank, where I am well known, and where I bank. If he will not get any money that way could they not advance a little to you at once, not to pay for his passage, since I will pay for it London, but in case he should require a few things to take with him. I think the creditors will not and cannot prevent him from returning to see his mother, if you make them understand what is certainly true that it is the only way he has to pay his debts; and I cannot help repeating you once more that the sooner Roger comes home the better it is even in his own interests, as, as soon as he is with me, he will be identified, and the things will soon be settled afterwards. I have read your letter over once more, and I really think the best plan is for Sir Roger to come over to be identified and his debts will soon be paid, that business in fact cannot be settled anywhere but in England, besides that the enormous distance we are at makes it an obstacle to any business being transacted, as it requires 6 months to havean answer to a letter, and I think you ought to come over with Sir Roger as he will require your assistance, and the money for the passage I will pay for both of you at the Panama Office in London, therefore it can not be the passage money that can prevent both him and you from coming to London immediately,

To William Gibbs, Esqre., Solicitor, Wagga Wagga, N. South Wales.

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. CUBITT.)

16th September, 1866.

Mr. Cubitt,—I have received your letter this very morning, and am very sorry to say you do not say anything about my dear son, .Sir Roger Tichborne. J have sent you £40, that I beg you will be so good as to let him have them, as it is very difficult either to write to him or to send him anything, since he does not go by his own name, and I do not know even now how to address him my letters. I am, at a loss how to send him money, as I am not acquainted with the name that he goes by. This £40 will do to buy a few things that he may require, and as for his passage money, I will pay it. and also the passage of whoever he brings with him, and also, of course, for his luggage. Therefore he cannot say that he is wanting in money to come over. I went to the office in Moorgate-street, in the City, and they told me it was the same thing to pay in London, and that they would send an order to their captain to take Sir Roger Doughty Tichborno and family without paying down the money. Will you be so good as at least as to explain all that to him, and to give him the £40 I sent to you, as I am afraid he has no money to pay his expenses at the hotel where he is staying at present. You will oblige me by doing so, and also, I will thank you see that he is not wanting in anything, as I will return any money that you may think necessary to advance him. The idea that he may be wanting for the necessaries of life would grieve me more than I could say.—I remain, sincerely yours,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

Of course, if he has any debts they will be paid when he comes to England; the only way to settle it all is to come over as quickly as possible. I prefer your sending your letters to me to the care of Messrs. Callaghan & Co., 40, Rue Neuve des Mathurins, Chaussée d'Antin, Paris. France. Mr. Callaghan will forward them to me immediately. Later I will repay you the money you have spent for advertising, &e.; but I beg you not to ask any money from my son, as he has none at present, and as for the reward, it is only right to ask him when he is in possession of the estates. That was your agreement with me, and it is better for the present to let him have those £40 I have sent in your name, and later I may pay you what you may have spent in advertising, &c.; only do not ask any money of Sir Roger, as he has none at present, and you may be certain you will not lose any money. I have now made up my mind to send the £400 required for his passage. I have sent them to Sir Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne. T do not know whether my having sent them in his own name will create any difficulties. I did not know how to act, and if Roger was already sailed the money will remain at the Bank till further orders.

(MR. GIBBES TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Wagsga Wagga, Sept. 16.

Lady Tichborne,—Dear Madam,—In case of any unforeseen delay in your son's return voyage, I beg to inform you that he, together with Lady Tichborne and infant (girl), and a servant named Bogle, who had been valet to his late uncle (and who, I learn, has been receiving £50 per annum from the Tichborne family through the Union Bank at Sydney), all sailed in the Panama mail steamer on the 2nd September instant from Sydney. Previously to this he had been identified positively not only by Bogle, but by one Guilfoyle, a market gardener in Sydney, who wa gardener to hie father, the late Sir James, and who is now a wealthy man, also by hi wife. I was previously satisfied from Mr. Turvill's statement that he really was the man. His delay in coming was mainly attributable to the difficulty of getting a sufficient advance to go home properly, as, however convinced I was of his identity, I could not persuade others to l>e equally so, especially without mentioning matters that .Sir Roger woul I not have wished. I trust, however, ere this comes to your hands, that you will again have ha I the satisfaction of seeing your son, and that your maternal anxieties will be at an end. I had almost forgotten to mention that he is accompanied on his journey by a young lad, a protége of his, one Master Butts (Butts), the son of a citizen of Sydney, who could be sent on to England as an envoy in case of accidental delay. I hope by the next mail, notwithstanding my fears to the contrary, to hear from you that you have received my first rough photographs of your son. By your letter you seem to imagine that Sydney is near Wagga Wagga (pronounced "VVogga Wogga—a native name for much water, as we are surrounded on three sides by a river); but you will be surprised to hear that it takes three days travelling day and night from one place to the other. This is the furthest town of any size in the interior, and is 335 miles from Sydney, and 311 from Melbourne. "When next you honour me with a letter please put the words (in large letters) " viâ Melbourne" on your letter. This will enable ine to have it one or two days sooner, and ensure my answering it by return mail. I write to your son by this mail to your care.—I am, Madam, yours obediently,

WILLIAM GIBBES.

P.S.—Permit me to remark my name is " Gibbes," not " Gibbs;" the mis-spelling might lend to a letter miscarrying.

Wagga Wagga, N.S.W., 20th Oct., 1866.

Lady Tichborne.—Madam,—Your kind letter of the 22nd August came duly to hand, but without the enclosure mentioned of £20, which happily is no longer required for the purpose for which you intended it. I presume at the time I am writing this that Sir Roger's own unasked generosity in giving me drafts on England for £500, payable after his arrival there, has far more than requited me for any services I have performed. Although he arrived in Sydney in June and made himself known, yet our suspicious Sydney men would not advance the money he required, and it was only with the greatest difficulty it was at last obtained, and then at a most exorbitant rate. Sincerely congratulating you upon your having by the time you receive this again seen your long-lost son (to whom I am writing by this mail).—I am, Madam, yours obediently,

WILLIAM GIBBES.

(LADY TICHBORNE TO MR. CUBITT.)

Nov. 21, 1866.

Mr. Cubitt,—I have both to acknowledge and to thank you for your last letter, which announces to me the departure of my dear son Sir Roger from Sydney on the 2nd of September, bur. I am sorry to say I have not yet had the pleasure of seeing him. However, a gentleman who* was with him in the same vessel told me that they separated at Panama, and that he (Sir Roger) would not be in Paris before the end of November; therefore I am expecting him, though I feel anxious about his being so long coming, and I am also afraid he will not have money enough to arrive in Paris, and to reach me. I cannot send him any, as I don't know where he is at present. I am sorry he did not wait to leave Sydney till my money was arrived, as it would have spared him both trouble and anxiety. I suppose they will send the money back to London; it was £4:00, which is the sum he had wished me to send him. I wish you to come to Paris to meet my son and myself immediately, as soon as you have received this letter; and, as it would require too long a time to send you money, and lengthen the business, 1 beg you to advance the money for your passage if you can be satisfied with a second-class ticket. I should prefer it, as the gentleman who was with my son on the Panama was a second-class passenger, and he told me they were very comfortable people; but if you object to it, I would not have that it should be an obstacle to your coming over to Paris, as I think your talent and experience would be very useful to my son; and he will require not only first-rate people around him, but also unprejudiced ones; as you kindly put yourself to my disposition in one of your former letters, I trust you will not have any objection to come to Paris immediately. I think they will not in all probability begin anything before your arrival there, and therefore it will be necessary for you to quit Sydney by the next mail after you have received this letter. I hope you will not have any objection to advance your passage money, as if you do not like to do it you can borrow it, and I will return you the money you have paid for your passage coming to Paris, either immediately after your arrival in Paris, or later, when you will receive the money to return home; if you think it 7iecessary to bring the Gardener, Guilford, who has recognised Sir Roger, you may bring him with you, as his recognition of Sir Roger may contribute to Sir Rogers success, and he may be a very useful witness. You would, in that case, borrow money both for your passage and his. At the same time, if you think Mr. Gibbes may be necessary to you, you may also desire him to come to act under you, but not wait for him, as it would delay you; and it is necessary you should start by the very first mail that sails after you have received this letter, but you will do it only if jmu think it necessary. Mr. Gibbes lias never said a word to me against you, and you will see the letters he has written to me when yon are in Paiis, and you will see then he does not even mention your name. I think him a clever man, and might be, perhaps, very useful to my dear son, Sir Roger. However, as it would delay you to wait for him, you cannot do it; only you will be so good as to leave him instructions what he is to do, and also to follow you as soon as he possibly can. I think his abilities, added to yours, both with your talent and experience, may prove most useful to my son's affairs; when you arrive in Paris you will have to call on Messrs. Callaghan's, and he will let you know my address and my son's address. I believe you will receive this letter about the first week in January, and we may expect you in Paris about the beginning of February of the next year. I will thank you to bring with you the Wagga, Wagga Express, where all my son's affairs are mentioned. You cannot get it in London. They have all been sold, and one cannot get it anywhere; almost all the newspapers have talked of Sir Roger's returning home; but 1 should like to read the Wagga Wagga Express. Will you be so good as to bring it home with you; also the other papers you may think may interest me—those where there is a good account of Sir Roger's, I must say, adventurous life. I conclude this letter in recommending vou to make haste to join ray dear son as soon as you possibly can, and I remain very sincerely yours,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

It is not necessary, I suppose, that you should send an answer to this letter, as you yourself will be the answer. My address in Paris is Messrs. Callaghan's. Mr. C'allaghan will let you know where we are to be found, as I do not know it myself at present. I think Mr. Gibbes will easily find money to borrow to pay for his passage to come over to join you and my son in Paris. If he cannot advance it he must borrow it, as it would delay him to wait till I could send him some. I need not tell you how happy I shall be able to see you in Paris; also Mr. Gibbes and Guilford, the gardener; as I think it will do a great deal towards settling my son's affairs justly and happily. and you will not have any reason to regret having done it. I suppose if you do not know Guilford's address it will not be difficult for you to find him out. I think, in every way. it is better you should come immediately, all three; as I fancy, if you do not come now, later the Chancellor may write to you to come, and it would delay the whole affair very much: therefore it is better you should como immediately—you and Guilford first, and then Mr. Gibbes a little later, as it would delay you to wait for him.

(MR. TURVILLE TO LADY TICHBORNE.)

Government House, Sydney, Australia, Nov. 23rd, 1866..

My dear Lady Tichborne,—Your letter of Sept. 20th reached me on the 15th inst., and I will at once assure you that you need make no apologies for troubling me, as I shall be most happy to be of any service to you. Throughout your letter you speak as if perfectly satisfied of the identity of your son, so of course I shall speak of him as such. I called on him twice while he was here, but as I had never seen him before, and as my name, even, was quite unknown to him, it was impossible for me to be sure of his identity. But I thought it right to make myself known to him. as I was probably the only person out here acquainted with his family, and I should have been happy to have given him any advice, which, however, he did not seem to stand in need of from me. Under the circumstances I felt myself unwilling to force myself upon him. I mention this in reply to your wish that I should " seek him out," " give him advice," and "be a friend to him." He will ere this be in England, as he left this early in September, if I remember right, via Panama. I saw the manager of the Bank of NewSouth Wales, who had received the £400 you sent for Sir Roger. The bank had instructions tu return the money to you if Sir Roger had already left. I agreed with the manager that this would be the proper course, and I enclose a note which he wrote to me at my request. I also called on Mr. Cubitt and gave him to understand that you were not well pleased with him for having obtained Sir Roger's signature to a bill for the reward. The amount of this bill Mr. Cubitt declined, very civilly I must admit, to give me. That your son had signed the bill ho freely admitted, but said that the act was quite voluntary on Sir Roger's part, and that he (Mr. Cubitt) had used no pressure whatever. I see no cause, however, for your alarm as to this bill. Should Sir Roger prove his title, he will, of course, have to pay the amount: but that, I take it. will be all the inconvenience that will arise. For until he does prove his title, his signature, I suppose, is not worth much, and Mr. Cubitt and others similarly situated (for I regret to hear that there are others, but your son, of course, will tell you of all these matters) can have no interest in proceeding against your son before he has proved his title; their interests clearly lie all the other way, and would lead them to give him every facility. I hope I have thus done what you wished me to do. Should I be able to be of any further service to you I shall be happy, though I must idd that I only expect to be here some few months more, as Sir John Young's term expires in March next, and we shall certainly leave somo time during the course of the year, though the Colonial Office has yet named no date. Hoping to have the pleasure of seeing you on my return, believe me, my dear Lady Tichborne, yours very truly,

F. F. TURVILLE.

Lady Tichborne, care of Messrs. Callaghan and Co.,

40 Rue Neuve des Mathurins. Chaussée d'Antin, Paris.

It being twenty minutes to four when the Solicitor-General concluded the reading of the correspondence,

Mr. Serjeant Ballantirie said that perhaps his lordship would consent to an adjournment. The claimant, he remarked, would be cross-examined in reference to the correspondence, nd would no doubt require a little time to think over it. The fatigue under which iiis learned friend laboured was also another reason why they should not proceed any further that day.

The Chief-Justice asked what were the prospects as to the length of the cross examination and re-examination.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine thought that as regards the re-examination he might promise his lordship and the jury that he would take a comparatively short time.

The Chief-Justice wanted to know what were the chances of the cross-examination and re-examination being concluded before their present sittings came to a close.

The Solicitor-General: I haven't very much more to do. I have to ask some questions about these letters. I don't think that will take long, and then I have to examine the claimant on the rest of his life in England.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: An additional hour in the day would enable me to comprise my re-examination in a narrow compass.

The Solicitor-General: There is a good deal to talk about as regards the period which has elapsed since the landing of the claimant in England, We are coming towards a conclusion anyhow. (Laughter.) There are certain parts of the cross-examination which are at an end, and which, as far as I know, except a few stray questions here and there, I shall not refer to.

The Chief-Justice: I have been most anxious from the beginning to facilitate the progress of the casel n every way.

The Solicitor-General: There are some people who seem to think that we ought to go on from day to day, and from month to month, without any break whatever. This is an extraordinary case, and one which puts a great strain upon us all, and we should be glad if your lordship, having a much larger experience than ours, would express your acknowledgement of the fact by a public declaration; because really impossibilities seem to be expected from us by persons out of doors.

The Chief-Justice: I don't know to what you refer; but, in fixing the hours of sitting, I took the opportunity of consulting you both, and also the convenience of the jury. All I can say is, that I have felt exhausted and have suffered in my health from the bad atmosphere of this court, and the strain that arises after working since the 2nd of November.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I don't think my learned friend so much referred to the hours of the court. Observations have been made and suggested that we should go on de die in diem till the case is finished. My learned friend and myself don't exactly feel equal to such a task, and we don't think that any Act of Parliament could seriously secure our lives.

The Solicitor-General: It would probably not conduce to the longevity of anybody, or to the shortness of the case, to go on month after month without any intermission.

The Chief-Justice: Having sat continuously since the 2nd of November, I am only enabled to attend to this case by going down to Brighton to get a little fresh air.

The Foreman: The 10th of July will be on Monday. The jury wish to know if it would be possible to adjourn on Friday, the 7th.

The Chief-Justice: I shall be at the Old Bailey on Wednesday, the 12th. Although I will require a day or two to prepare for my duties there, I would sit up to Monday if by doing so we could finish the cross-examination and re-examination.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, referring to the letter mentioned at an earlier part of the day, suggested that the writer should be written to, and his consent obtained to the letter being handed in to the officers of the court.

The Solicitor-General said that he had no function in the matter.

The Chief-Justice remarked that any documents could be called for under a subpæna duces tecum, if either party desired their production.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

THIRTY-FOURTH DAY.—THURSDAY, JUNE 29.

THIRTY-THIRD DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Solicitor-General said that in the voluminous correspondence which he had read on the day previously, allusions were made to several matters which did not appear in any of those letters which had been chronologically arranged. He wished to know whether any letters other than those he had read were in possession of the claimant.

The Claimant said that all letters were in the possession of his solicitors.

The Solicitor-General: It is manifest the correspondence is not complete.

No more letters were produced.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was then continued: I perceive in the letter of Lady Tichborne that she states you were thin when you left England. Were you thin in 1865?—Yes, I was thin then.

Were the photographs which we have seen of you taken in that year.No,jin, m Augu1t, I860.

What was your weight in 1865?—11st 41b.

You haven't, any photograph of yourself of that date?—No.

You were weighed coming home at Panama, and there you were over 19st?—No, 18st. When at Sydney I was 15st.

Did you put on three stone, then, between Sydney and Panama?—Yes; and it can be proved by the books of the Royal Insurance Company. I was weighed in their office before I started.

Were yon thin in July, 1866?—Yes, comparatively so. In August I was 13st 61b.

Can you account for the word " thin" being left out in the advertisement issued by Cubitt?—No, I know nothing of what he did.

When did the advertisement first appear? The letter of Mr. Cubitt to Lady Tichborne is dated 4th August, 1885; and it states that the insertion of an advertisement was the first step taken in the matter. Do you know at what point of time it was that the advertisement was first inserted?—No, I do not. I should think it would be some time about the date you have mentioned.

Do you know what steps Mr. Cubitt took beside?—No.

Have you got the original advertisement?—No

Is it in the possession of your attorneys?—I don't know. It it is one I first saw I merely read it, and it went away again.

Then you ean't tell me the date of the first insertion?—No.

You were married first of all by a Mr. Begnall?—Yes; some such name as that.

And that was at Wagga Wagga?—Yes.

Were James and Mary Maria Robinson the persons who were present at the marriage?—Yes.

Did you describe yourself as having been born at Chili, in South America?—Yes.

And that the names of your father and mother were Thomas and Mary Castro?— Yes.

And that your father had been a merchant?—Yes.

And that your age was 30?—Yes; I think so.

And you were married on the 29th January, 1865?—Yes.

You were born in 1829, you know, and you would be more than 30 then?—Yes.

If you were born at the time Arthur Orton is said to be—namely, in 1834—you would be just 30?—Well, I can't say when he was born.

You were re-married on the 9th July, 1866, at Goulburu, by Mr. M'Elvoy, in the name of Roger Charles Tiohborne?—Yes.

What did you give as your age then?—I'm sure I don't remember.

At that time had you seen Lady Tichborne's letter, stating that her son was born in 1829?—No, I had not. I should like to see the first letter I wrote. It is impossible to remember all that appeared in the letter.

Lady Tichborne stated that she was married in 1827, and that you were born in 1829?—Well, it might be so.

What made you give your wrong age?—For the reasons that I have stated. I wished everything to be false. I said 30 because it first came into my head. I did not want anybody to know me.

Did you not know that Orton would be just 30 years old at that time?—I don't know Orton's age, but I am aware that he is younger than me.

By the Chief-Justice: Did you lead your wife to believe that all you had said was correct?—I believe I did up to the time I was re-married.

The Solicitor-General: Was there no Roman Catholic priest at Wagga Wagga?—Yes, but I was not friendly with him then.

Then you did not see the letter in which Lady Tichborne said that your age would be 32?—No; I did not.

I find that Mr. Cubitt states that letters of a most important nature had been sent to him from Lady Tichbonie. Do you know anything of them? No. I saw one after her ladyship's death, I believe. The other letters of Mr. Cubitt's were taken possession of by Mr. Holmes, my attorney. I am not aware that any copies were kept.

You knew of the correspondence?—Yes.

And that a number of documents came into your possession which had to be scheduled in your name?—Yes; all the documents were placed in the hands of my attorney.

Did you take the trouble to see any of the letters before they were deposited in the Court of Chancery?—No, I did not. Any letters that I have are at your service.

You wrote to Mr. Cubitt stating that Mr. Gibbes had said that he (Cubitt) had received important news from your mother; and that you should like to know what it was, and what his charges for advertisements were, in order that you might settle with him before you left the colony. How came you to write to him? Did you know anything of Cubitt?—Xo, I knew nothing of him except what I heard from Gibbes.

What made you offer to pay him?—I thought at that time of coming home viâ Melbourne, and I did not wish any account of my mother to be left unpaid.

What means had you of paying his charges?—Mr. Cotty, my banker, had promised to find me sufficient money to come home, and to pay my debts, but did not. I imagined Cubitt's charges for advertisements would not amount to more than a few pounds.

It is said that you would not throw off your incognito when in the colony. Why was that?—I did not wish my life in Australia to be known to the public

Had you any other object?—No, none whatever.

Then it is stated that Gibbes was pledged to secrecy with respect to many matters. Can yon explain them?—No; I am not answerable for what other people wrote. I remember now that one of the points alluded to related to my marriage.

Did Mr. Cubitt send you his charge in answer to your letter?—No, he did not.

Then he took no notice of your letter.—No, I don't think he did.

Your letters were to be left at the post-office, Wagga Wagga, you know. Did you never get a letter there?—I am under the impression that I did not. I think the letter alluded to was the only one I ever wrote him. I can safely say that I received no answer from Cubitt. Gibbes led me to believe that he was a person of indifferent character? but on going to Mr. Ford, a banker, of Sydney, he said that Gibbes had wrongly informed me, and that Cubitt was a highly respectable man, and he advised ine, if he had written to my mother, to see him at once; and I did so. I have always found Cubitt respectable.

Did you desire Gibbes to pledge Cubitt to secrecy as to your marriage?—Cubitt knew nothing about it at the time.

I mean in February, I860?—No doubt I requested Gibbes to bind Cubitt to secresy it any questions were asked as to my marriage.

You yourself never pledged Cubitt to secresy?—No; certainly not.

Can you explain this? Mr. Gibbes states, on the 13th January, that " after the present lapse of time he should feel justified in claiming a portion of the reward on behalf of the real discoverer, his wife."—Well, I suppose that after he saw me smoking under the verandah he went home and told his wife, and that she searched after advertisements and found the one referrinc tome.

Is Mrs. Gibbes alive?—I suppose so.

Did you know her?—I had never spoken to her before that period.

Did you see any letter written by Gibbes to Cubitt in which he mentioned the initials on the pipe?—No.

Did anybody know of it except Gibbes and Cubbit?—I think Gibbes only was aware of it.

On the 18th April, 1866, I find that Cubitt wrote to Lady Tichborne as follows: " I took the precaution to enclose in a former communication a letter supposed to come from your son, for you to see if you could recognise it." What letter was that?—It would be the letter I wrote to him, I suppose.

Did you forward any letters to Lady Tichborne through Cubitt?—No, none whatever.

You wrote to Lady Tichborne stating that you were disappointed at her not acknowledging you as ker son, and that surely she must know your writing, and that she had caused you a deal of trouble. Have you got that letter?—It is in existence, suppose. It must be one of those I left at Dawson's.

What letters did you leave there?—Well, I left several letters I had received from my mother with a gentleman of that name, a solicitor, at Sydney. I left them with him for safe custody, in case anything should happen to me when going home.

When was that?—A short time previous to my sailing.

Have they been sent over here since?—I can't say, I'm sure.

I see that Mr. Gibbes wrote to Cubitt stating that you proposed returning to the colony. Is that so?—Yes, I intended to return.

Then after you had been acknowledged, and obtained the title and estates, you intended to go back again?—Yes, I was not aware my identity would be disputed. I may mention that I was then coming over by myself.

Do I understand you to say there are several letters with Mr. Dawson in Sydney?— No, you did not understand me to say that.

Then what has become of them?—I'm sure I can't say. If you will let me look at the letter you had in your hand just now, I may perhaps be able to tell you.

(A letter and a portion of another, which had been produced by Mr. Holmes, were handed to the claimant and inspected. Neither were dated.)

The letters were read by the clerk as follows:—

My dear and beloved Roger, I think you might come to me soon. I fancy Mr. Gibbes must be accustomed to those sort of transactions. If a banker knew who you are, the thing would not be difficult, but as you don't like, it makes it difficult to get money from any of them. I am anxious to see you, and hope you will soon come to your mother. I have had the great cruel misfortune, to lose your poor brother Sir Alfred Joseph, and of course I am still more desirous, if possible, to see my dear Roger. Therefore I beg of you to come back to me, and not forget your mother. I have also written to Mr. Cubitt, and told him how anxious I am that you should return home. I have no one in this world now. I hope you will attend to my wishes, and ever believe me, your affectionate mother,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

My dear Roger and beloved Son,I hope yon will come to Paris to join me with Mr. Norris. solicitor, a man whom you may trust. I am sorry to hear of the unpleasant oocurrenee which took place between you and Mr. Gosford and Mr. Cullington. Mr. Norris will settle your accounts at Gravesend. If you bring your wife and child I shall have great pleasure in seeing them. Mr. Cubitt is coming to Paris, and will bring the gardener with him. I trust you will start for Paris immediately.—I remain your affectionate mother,

H. F. TlCHBORNE.

The Solicitor-General: You swore on the 14th February, 1868, that you believed the letters which you handed to Mr. Dawson were still in his possession?—Yes.

Have you never inquired whether or no they have been handed over to your solicitors here?—No.

You thought the documents important at the time you gave them into the custody of Mr. Dawson, did you not?—No doubt I did; but not important as regards any law-suit, because I did not think any such thing would take place. I merely wished to preserve them.

Did you take copies of them?—No.

The Chief-Justice: As far as you know, are they still in the possession of Mr. Dawson?—Yes, without Mr. Holmes has applied for them. I have told him they were there.

The Solicitor-General: Have you never inquired what has become of them?—I don't think that I have.

Then possibly the letter alluded to may be there?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: And possibly no such letter may be in existence at all.

The Chief-Justice: Can you tell me how many letters you left with Mr. Dawson?

The Claimant: I think there were three, my lord. There were several other letters, but they had nothing to do with the case.

There must have been several, for I find that on the 18th July, 1866, Lady Tichborne wrote to Mr. Gibbes, stating that she had not received answers to any of the letters she had sent to him or to you. There is an allusion in one letter to three which she had sent, and which had not been answered.—Well, those were the three, I suppose.

Her ladyship stated that she could not write to yon straight, because she did not know the name under which you were going. How was it that she was not told you were living under the name of Thomas Castro?—The first letter of Gibbes's will explain that, I think.

The Claimant here asked that a gentleman (Captain Polhill Turner) who was sitting in front of the jury box reading a book (apparently the Australian evidence) might be desired to change his seat.

The Chief Justice: Let the gentleman stand up. Are you a witness in this cause?

Captain Turner: Yes, my lord.

Against whom?—The gentleman in the box.

Then you must not sit near the jury box.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Instructions have been given that no person must sit there. Sir Roger is very susceptible about it.

Well, I could not pay attention to the questions so long as that gentleman remained there. (A laugh.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantiue: There need not be anything more said about, it.

The Solicitor-General: He was captain of your troop?

The Chief-Justice: Oh, don't go into it any further.

The Solicitor General: I believe now I have done with the letters. Yon saw Cubitt at Sydney?—Yes.

And Bogle?—Yes.

And Guilfoyle?—Yes.

And Buttea?—Why do you mention his name? I had not known him previously my arrival there.

Did Mr. Turville recognise you? He never knew me previously.

Did you see Bogle or Cubitt first? Who was the first person you saw on business at Sydney?—The manager of the bank.

But the first person you saw on the question of your coming home to claim your estates?—I think it was Cubitt—no, it was Gibbes.

Did you know whether Cubitt had seen Bogle?—I am certain he had not done so. I remember calling his attention to the fact that I had seen Bogle myself. I don't think he had. seen Bogle up to the time of my departure.

Did you take Bogle into your service? XNo..

Or his son?—No.

Did you borrow £250 of his son?—Yes; he wanted me to bring his father home, and I borrowed money of him. I can't mention the exact amount, but £250 is near enough.

And you brought the father home?—Yes, and one of his brothers—a little boy.

Did Bogle want to come home?—Yes; he wished to come with me. It cost me nearly the whole amount before we got home.

Who were the Buttes? Was old Buttes the proprietor of the hotel?—Yes.

And young Buttes was the son of old Buttes?—Yes.

And young Buttes entered your service as secretary?—Yes; he corresponded for me.

That is what I mean by secretary.—I have heard that some gentlemen keep secretaries, but I do not.

Did you not become proprietor of Butte's Hotel?—Well, I took to it.

Was it not sold to you for £10,000?—Yes.

And you drew bills on Drummond's to pay for it?—Yes.

Had you any banking account there?—No; the bills were drawn in such a manner as not to become due until after I reached home.

Then you had no money at Drummond's?—No, none at all.

The Chief-Justice: What became of the bills?—They are in London, my lord. They were dishonoured. The hotel was resold, and fetched sufficient to clear off the money, and meet all the expenses within a few pounds. The bills remain in the bank. They were drawn so as to give me time to deposit money to meet them. They were never discounted. The hotel, on being resold, fetched £10,700. My reason for drawing on Drummond's was because Mr. Cotty would not accept my first bill unless it was drawn on them. I drew all my bills afterwards on the same bank.

The £10,000 was drawn on the 1st August?—Yes; I suppose that would be the date.

The Chief Justice: Of what amount were the bills you drew for Cotty?—Small bills of £300 or £350.

The Solicitor-General: I can give the amounts of some of them. The first was drawn for £108; the second for £100; the third for £350; and the fourth for £235— trifling sums, you say?—I said nothing about trifling. I said they were bills of small amounts.

There is a bill for £500 which passed through the Oriental Bank. Was as that drawn on Drummond's?—Yes.

Then the amount you drew on Drummond's was considerable?—I don't know exactly what it was. I think it was something like £15,000. I don't know the amount.

The Jury: Are we to understand that cash was not obtained on these bills?—Yes.

For what was the first bill drawn on Drummond's?—To repay money I had borrowed of a person named Thompson.

Mr. Giffard said that the bills were simply to be presented at Drummond's for payment. They were not drawn upon that firm.

The Claimant: It was well understood by persons in the colony that I had no money whilst there. The bills were drawn by parties who knew I had no money, and that I could not place any cash there until after I arrived in England. I have paid a good many of the bills.

Then you have some of them with you?—No; my attorney may have them.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It you, Mr. Solicitor, have any information to give about Drummond's, I don't object to your giving it in evidence now.

The Solicitor-General read a long list of bills which were drawn chiefly in favour of parties living in Australia.

The Claimant said there were four bills which he gave to Mr. Buttes, amounting to £1000, for which he received no consideration, and he held Buttes's note of hand for the sum.

The Chief-Justice: What was the amount of Cubitt's bill?—-£1000, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: The list Joes not contain Cubitt's or Cotty's bills.—No. Mr. Cotty promised that his bills should not be presented until after I reached England. I fancy Cotty's bills were drawn in favour of James Warboy.

I see that Warboy's were promissory notes of hand, signed by Roger Charles Tich borne, six months after date.—It may be so.

You accepted a bill of exchange drawn on you by Gibbes, payable at the Oon solidated Bank, London, which was dishonoured and protested.—I suppose that was his bank. I knew nothing of the Consolidated Bank. I did not meet the bill, because I had to pay off the bills for £1,000 which I had given to Buttes, aud for which I received nothing.

Who was Warboy?—I didn't know that he was the payee at the time. I was under the impression that it was Cotty himself.

Where did you first see Guilfoyle?—In King-street.

Do I understand you to say that Cubitt agreed to wait until you could place the money at the Oriental Bank, London?—Yes, of course.

He states that he gave you an opportunity of meeting that bill when it arrived at maturity?—Yes; and I anticipated doing so.

Did you see Guilfoyle first at the hotel?—No; in the street, but not far from the hotel.

Did Mr. Buttes introduce you to Guilfoyle?—No.

Was Buttes there when you first saw Guilfoyle?—I can't say whether he saw us the hotel afterwards. After I met Guilfoyle we walked to the hotel together.

Did Guilfoyle ask you if you knew him?—He asked me if I remembered a person named Guilfoyle. I asked " Where?" and he replied, " At Tichborne." I said, " Yes; I remember a gardener of that name." He then asked me if I knew him, and I said, " You are not Guilfoyle," and he assured me that he was. When his wife came up I recognised her, and we walked into the hotel together.

Is it true that he asked you if you recollected Mr. Robert Tichborne, of Bath, and that you said " No;" that he then asked you if you knew whether old Mr. Seymour was living, and that you said " No;" and that he then asked you if you remembered Mr. Seymour at all, and that you gave the same kind of answer?—No; it is all false, utterly false.

Was he present when you first saw Bogle?—Certainly not. I had seen Guilfoyle several days previously.

Did he ask you whether you recollected old Bogle, the black man?—He certainly did not. When I heard that Bogle was in Sydney I asked him how it was that he had not told me.

Why, in July, 1866, you state that Lady Tichborne spoke of Bogle in her letter to Cubitt, and that you had made inquiries, and could not find him?—There is some mistake about the date of that letter. It so happened that the name of Bogle was never mentioned to me by my mother, or anybody else, until I saw him.

(The letter was produced, and found to be dated July 24, 1866.)

The Claimant read the letter, and asked it that was the one the Solicitor-General was harping upon.

The Solicitor-General: How came you to write to Lady Tichborne that you had made inquiries as to Bogle, and could not find him?—Well, I suppose Cubitt told me that Bogle lived in Sydney. I know this—that Cubitt gave me a very severe cross-examination upon those letters—a great deal more severe than you have given me yet. (Laughter.)

You knew that Bogle was in Sydney when you went there?—No, I did not. It was some weeks before I got the information from Mr. Cubitt.

Then you went to see Bogle?—No; he came to see me first.

Did you ever go to Mr. Guilfoyle's place out of Sydney?—Yes, I am certain of that as I am of sitting in this chair, and if Guilfoyle has said that I did not it is quite untrue. I think you have the evidence of the person who went with me.

Did you see Guilfoyle a second time at Buttea's Hotel?—I saw him three or four times.

Did you tell him you could not get money, and had been to the City Bank and seen the manager, Mr. Ford?—That is true, but it requires a great deal of explanation.

That Mr. Ford said if they could find any one who would be security they would let you have the money?—No, it was not quite so; Mr. Ford said that if Guilfoyle would be security they would lend it.

Did Guilfoyle refuse to go?—No, he wished to go.

Did you enter into conversation with Guilfoyle, and did he not ask you how you came to change your name to Castro? Did you not give him an account of your shipwreck? And did he not tell you that if you took the estate your name would not be Tichborne?—Certainly not, it would have taken a long time to do that.

borne discussion here took place as to whether questions should be asked upon the whole of the Australian evidence, as the claimant's answers would be a mere denial.

The Solicitor-General said he was content to examine upon the claimant's life generally.

The Claimant asked that the evidence of certain witnesses who were in his favour might be read.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said all the evidence would be submitted at the proper time.

The Solicitor General: I will now pass from Sydney, and take you to the time when you came home; but before doing so I wish to mention that the letters which were read yesterday have not been printed correctly, as far as the spelling is concerned. The word received in some of the letters was spelt " receved," and ought to have been so printed. A great deal will turn upon the spelling of that word.

The Chief-Justice (to the claimant): Did you know any person in Australia who passed by the name of Read?—No, my lord.

No person of the name of G. Read? —No, my lord.

You have told us that you knew Arthur Orton. Did he ever pass by the name of Head?—Not that I am aware of.

The Chief-Justice: I have asked these questions because I have received a letter from a gentleman, professing to give some information with regard to this case. The letter I will hand down for the inspection of counsel on both sides.

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the re-assembling of the court the cross-examination was resumed.

You started, as I understood, from Sydney, and came to Panama, and from there to New York, and then to EnglandEngland?—Yes.

And landed on Christmas Day, 1866?—Yes.

You have told me that after you had been to Ford's Hotel and to Beaumont-street you went down to Wapping?—Yes.

What time did you get to the Docks?—Between three and four.

Old you go straight to Ford's?—Yes.

who went with you?—My wife and child and servant.

Do you mean Bogle?—No; my female servant. Bogle followed afterwards.

Your female servant was Rosina M'Arthur?—Yes.

You got your dinner and went to Wapping?—Yes.

What time did you get to Wapping?—Between eight and nine.

Were you at the Globe at seven?—No, it was past seven before we had our tea.

Did you go alone to Wapping? I did.

How were you dressed?—How was I dressed?

Yes; it was cold, and in the evening. Were you muffled up?—No doubt I was.

Was the first question you asked of the person you saw there whether she could give you any information about the Ortons?—Yes, and where they had gone. There was no person in the house when I called, and so I went to the public-house.

Did the woman you asked tell you Mrs. Orton was dead?—I think so.

Did you say you knew of the death of the old lady?—No; I didn't know it.

Did she tell you that Mary Ann Orton had married a Mr. Tredgett, and that he died within nine months of his marriage?—Yes, I believe so.

Did she tell you that Mrs. Jury, another sister, was living with Mrs. Tredgett.—I don't remember.

Did you then ask her for Mrs. Jury's address?—I don't think so.

Did she say she could send for it to an old servant of the Orton family who was iving close by?—I think not.

Did she send out for it?—She gave it to me. I don't know whether she sent out.

Did she mention the name of Charles Orton?—No.

Did you say you didn't want to see him?—No; I didn't near the name mentioned.

Did you ask if a Mr. Cronin still kept the grocer's shop opposite?—No; I didn't know the name.

Did she say Mr. Cronin failed, and had gone away, and did yon say, " I am sorry or it? "—No.

Did you then ask after a Mr. John Warrick who lived close by?—No.

Do yon mean to say neither Warrick's name nor Cronin's was mentioned by her to you?—No.

Neither by you to her, nor her to you?—No.

She didn't tell you Warrick was dead, and had left a wife and children, and you didn't say you were sorry for it?—Certainly not.

Did you ask whether a Mr. Wright, the son of a ship chandler close by, had returned from sea?—No.

Nothing about him mentioned?—No.

Did Mrs. Fairhead say, " Why, you must be one of the Ortons?"—No.

And did you say, " No, I am a friend of theirs"?—No such conversation passed.

Were there two women present?—No; I only remember one- a stont person.

I ask you whether another woman- -Mrs. Jackson, the landlady of the Glohe, who was present all the time—did not intervene, and say, " Why, yon are an Orton! You are like the father and mother "?—No; I only remember one.

Did you say, " I am merely a friend of the Ortons, aud have come from a brother to assist Mrs. Jury"?—No.

Did Mrs. Jackson say that Mrs. Jury's daughter was going to join her husband, and that sho had to go for an outfit, and didn't you say, " I hope she'll get out safe "?—Certainly not.

Did she say, " If you are not an Orton, you seem to know Wapping pretty well, at any rate? "—She did not.

Did you say, " I have been away from Wapping about fifteen years "?—I did not.

How long were you in the house?—From five to seven minutes.

Weren't you there nearly an hour?—Certainly not.

Having a long conversation about Wapping and the people there?—No; I was only there from five to seven minutes.

Weren't there customers in the place?—No.

Didn't you know Mrs. Jackson?—No.

Her name originally was Fairhead?—I never heard the name.

Didn't you ever hear Orton mention the name of Fairliead?—No.

Just tell me what passed.—I went to the house where I had the address, and, finding it shut up, I went to the nearest public-house to inquire for the address of Miss Orton. They gave it to me, and I remained there from five to seven minutes. They wrote down the address of Miss Mary Ann Orton.

I don't want to catch you, but haven't you said " they?"— I meant the person there. She wrote it for me.

And then you went away?—I went to the address she gave me.

And that is the beginning and the end of the matter in the public-house?—Yes.

Did you have any refreshment?—I believe I had a glass of something.

Yon stayed to finish your glass and went away?—Yes.

And that is the whole of it?—Yes.

Do you recollect breaking a decanter?—Certainly not; I didn't have a decanter in my hand.

Did you notice the public-house was the Globe?—No; I first heard the name from Whicher, the detective.

You're quite sure there was only one person there?—I am quite sure I only saw one person.

That there were not two women, and that while one was talking to you the other intervened and had a conversation with you?—No.

This was your first visit to Warming?—Yes.

And your last?—Yes.

You have no knowledge of Wapping?—No.

And had never been there before?—No.

How did you stumble on this public-house?—I don't know.

Would it be strange to you to find it would be close to Mr. Orton's house?—It was to Mr. Orton's house I went.

That wouldn't seem strange. Would you rather expect it was near Orton's house?—No, I didn't expect to find it there.

Did you find that the address of Miss Orton had been old George Orton's house?—Yes, I knew it at the time.

You knew that from Arthur?—Yes.

You went from there to 19, Paignton-terrace, East India-road —Yes.

Did you mention at all in your conversation the name of Phœbe Jury?—No, I didn't know there was such a name. I am not aware there is such a name now, after we have heard all tbe evidence of the Jurys.

Did you go the same night to 67, Alexander-terrace, Pickard-street, East Indiaroad?—That is the place I went to, I think.

Did you go to the house of Mrs. Tredgett, and find she was out?—Yes.

Were you told she was out for the day, it being Christmas Day?—I think not There was nobody there.

Did you go home then?—Yes.

You hadn't delivered the letter then?—No; I believe I knocked at the next door.

That is what I am asking you?—And did you find she was out for the day?—Yes.

How early did you get to Wappiug next day?—I didn't go there.

Didn t you go to Wapping a second time, to 67, Alexander-terrace, Pickard-street, East India-road?—Excuse me, that isn't Wapping; thev are miles apart.

Excuse me. I haven't that intimate acquaintance with Wapping that I ought to have; hut at nine o'clock next morning you were at 67, Alexander-terrace?—I was at the address I got at the public-house, but not so early as that.

Didn't you go there before breakfast?—I had breakfast aboard the ship, I think.

Weren't you at the ship by eight?—No; I didn't breakfast till past ten. I think.

You didn't find Mrs. Tredgett?—No.

Did you at the East India-road get the address of Mrs. Tredgett's sister-in-law, Mrs. Pardon, of Paigntou-terrace, East India-road?—I had that overnight.

And you went there?—Yes.

Did you give the card which I showed you, " William H. Stephens "?—Yes.

Did you find that Mrs. Pardon was the sister-in-law of Mrs. Tredgett?—No.

Then I communicated that valuable piece of information to you?—Yes; I didn't hear it until I heard it from your detectives.

I dare say that did surprise you?—Not at all.

Were you two hours with Mrs. Pardon?—Certainly not; I wasn't there a quarter of an hour.

When you saw Mrs. Pardon was the first tiling you said you had called at Pickardstreet to find Mrs. Tredgett, and you saw a bill in the window?—I said I had been there, but I know nothing about a bill in the window.

Did Mrs. Pardon tell you that she lived at Pickard-street, that she had been married to her (Mrs. Pardon's) brother, and that her name now was Tredgett?—I have no recollection.

Did you say you had come from Australia, that you were commissioned by Miss Orton's brother to see her, and, if she wanted it, to give her money?—I believe I said that.

Did she say, " You are very like the Ortons. You must be an Orton?"—No.

Did you say, " No, I am only a friend of her brother, and he is one of the richest men in Australia?"—No, I told her about being a friend of her brother.

Did she say again, " You must be an Orton -you re so like old George Orton?"—No

And did you say, " No, I'm only a friend? —The conversation never passed.

Did you say you were a reporter for an Australian paper, and you were going to Ireland to report Fenian movements?—Yes, I did say that.

The Chief-Justice: What was your reason for saying that?

The Claimant: Because I didn't wish them to know who I was, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: Did you then show her a woman and child in a little locket find say they were the portraits of Arthur Orton's wife and child?—No; I hadn't the locket with me.

Did you then give her a letter addressed " Miss Mary Ann Orton," saying it had come from her brother in Australia?—Yes.

Did you ask her to give it to Miss, Orton personally, and, it she could not find her, to send it to you to Gravesend, at an address which you would send?—Yes.

How long do von say you were with her?—About ten minutes.

You're sure two hours would be gross exaggeration?—Yes.

You're sure you hadn't a conversation about the Ortons and other things?—I am.

Nobody came in and out during the conversation?—No.

Were George Reeves and a woman there?—Nobody but one person.

Have you ever seen the letter since that you gave Mrs. Pardon for Mary Ann Orton?—No.

Have you seen her since?—No.

Did you ask her what had become of it?—No; I heard from Miss Orton, but I don't think it was in reply to the letter.

Where did you hear from her?—At Croydon.

How soon after?—About a month after.

Have you got that letter?—No, I destroyed all the letters at that time.

Did Arthur Orton tell you the substance of the letter?—Yes, I knew what in it.

Was there any message sent in it to Miss Loder?—Miss Loder s name was in the paper with the addresses on it.

Was it in the letter, and was there a message sent to her?—I think not; I'm not certain.

Do you know Miss Loder was Arthur Orton's sweetheart?—I don t know that she was. I am under the impression that she was a connection of the family.

To what extent did Arthur Orton's commission to advance money to his sister go?—I don't know about the extent. I told him I would do what I could for them.

There was no sum mentioned?—No.

It was left to vour discretion?—Yes.

Having delivered the letter to Mrs. Pardon, you went away —Yes, I went on board hip.

Where did you sleep that night?—At the Clarendon Hotel at Gravesend.

It was shortly after that you wrote a letter to Mrs. Pardon, and one to Orton's sister?—Yes.

How came you to write to Orton's sister? Had you heard from her?—Yes.

That letter also you have destroyed?—Yes, I destroyed all the letters from them at that time.

You have told us what didn't pass with Mrs. Pardon; tell me what did pass.—You have put a good deal that didn't pass, and you have mentioned pretty nearly what did pass.

This was on the 26th?—Yes.

What did you do on the 27th?—I don't think I went out of the hotel.

Who was there?—My wife and child and maid.

And Bogle?—No; he was at Ford's.

The next day, the 28th, you went to Alresford?—Yes.

What had you to do at Gravesend?—Well, I went there to keep out of the way until such time as I should see my mother.

Out of whose way?—There were a lot of persons inquiring for me at Ford's, and I promised my mother faithfully not to see anybody until I had seen her. I should say it was more her wish than a promise of mine. I didn't think anybody would know me at Alrosford.

Was her wish expressed in a letter?—Yes.

Is it one of the letters that were put in?—I can't say.

You have got a very acute hearing. Don't you think it was put in?—I don't think it was read.

Probably it is the one in the custody of Mr. Dawson?—Probably so.

Did you go to a place called the Horse and Groom, at Alresxord?—No, I went to the Swan.

Did you go to the Horse and Groom first?—No. When I got out of the train I went in a carriage belonging to the Swan. They wouldn't take you to the Horse and Groom if you wanted to go.

You know the Horse and Groom?—Yes.

You didn't stay some hours at the Horse and Groom?—No.

That is a mistake or an invention?—Very likely it is both.

What name did you give? Taylor?—Well, the girl said, " What name, sir?" and I said, " Oh, Taylor, or anything." There was R. C. T. on my portmanteau.

What made you go down to Alresford?—Merely a wish to see the old place again.

Did you get to the Swan early or late?—About seven in the evening. It was dark.

You didn't go about the place?—No; I didn't go out ot the house that night.

The next day did you drive out with Mr. Rous?—I don t think it was the next day. The next day was Sunday, and I think I went out on Monday.

You drove round Tichborne?—Yes.

Did you stay at the dairy-house?—Yes.

Did you go round the back?—I went round the front to see what alterations had been made.

However, you looked round one wing?—Yes.

You then drove lo Cberiton?—Yes.

It was cold weather, and you were muffled up>—Yes.

So not to be recognized?—Yes.

That was, I suppose, to fulfil your mother's wish as much as possible?—Yes; I made up my mind not to speak to anybody until I had seen her.

When you were walking about the village did you meet a man name Etheridge?—les, between Tichborne and Alresford; he is a blacksmith.

Had you a talk with him?—Yes.

Did you say, " Is there much talk about Roger Tichborne coming back?"—I never mentioned my name.

Did you say " Should you be surprised if I was Roger Tichborne''? and did he not. say "I'm d— if yon are"? (Laughter.)—No; I asked him where he was going; and I gave him 6d to get some beer with.

Did you Bee him again?—Yes. I met him at Alresford, about nine o'clock at night, and I had a conversation with him for ten minutes or more.

Had you a good deal of talk with him about Tichborne and the neighbourhood?—I had.

He is an oldish man?—Yes, he must he an old man now.

He was seventy years in the village?—I should think his family have been there for a couple of hundred years.

At the end you did not ask him if he knew you were Roger Tichborne?—No. He told me I had been dead, I don't know how long, and Bogle too.

Had you much talk to him about Roger? Did you ask him what they thought about Roger?—Very probably I did.

To see what the feeling of the place was?—I don't think it was with that object. One thing he told me rather amused me.

What was that?—He told me the Tichhornes of the present day weren't the same Tichbornes at all; that they were not warriors, as iu the time of his grandfather. I listened very quietly to all he had to say, and I then asked him a question that made him jump.

Was that when he said, " I'm d—if you are Roger?"—No. I asked him if he remembered Roger Tiehborne hitting his cat with a whip in the barn, and his running after me with a flail in his hand.

And then he jumped?—Well, he was rather surprised.

He was surprised at the extent of the information?—He found he was talking to a person who knew more than he thought.

Did he catch you when he ran after you with the flail?—Not exactly. (Laughter.)

How long is it since this affair of the cat and the whip and the fail happened?—I can't say the year it was in.

Many years ago, when yon were a youngster?—Yes.

Were you by yourself when it happened?—Yes.

I have no doubt you can tell me when it was?—No.

Have you ever talked about it since the occurrence?—No, I don't think I have.

It came back to your memory as it it happened the day before?—Merely the sight of the man brought it back to me.

Then he couldn't have said, " I'm d—if you are Roger"?—That is what you say, you know. (Laughter.)

Was there anyone else present but the cat, Etheridge, and you? (Laughter.)—I don't remember, I'm sure.

I dare say you could tell me something more about it?—I can't.

Had yon got a dog?—Yes; I had some dogs with me.

Do you remember the colour of the cat?—No.

Was it an old black " Tom " cat?—I can't say.

Somebody else was there?—I don't remember.

Oh, eome! the old black "Tom, you know? (Laughter.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: He hasn't mentioned the colour or the sex.

The Claimant: You can have an old black " Tom," if yon like. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: The next day you saw Mr. Rous?—Yes.

And told him who you were?—Yes.

Why did you tell Rous? I thought yon were going to keep everything secret until yon saw your mother.—Because the direct question was put to me, and I thought I might have sufficient confidence in him to tell him. I also told him why I didn't wish myself to be known.

Did you tell anybody else?—No; except Mr. Bowker, when he asned the question. I can't say whether Bowker or Rous asked me iirst. I dare say he told you; but he didn't tell you he offered his services to me, and offered to sell my brother a wife.

Did you telegraph for Bogle a few hours after you saw Hopkins and Baigeut?—I telegraphed for him; hut I can't say the time.

Was it a few hours after your interview with them?—I had no interview with them.

At that time you had told Rous who you were?—Probably I did.

Where did you see Mr. Hopkins and Mr. Baigent? At the Swan?—No; a little to the back of the town.

Did you know them when you saw them, op did Rous tell you who they were?—Of course I knew them. I should like to explain why I sent for Bogle.

Well, do so.—Because people persisted iu saying lie was dead, and that his income was stopped for two or three years, and I was determined they should find it was not so.

And so you sent for him to show that he was in the land of the living?—Just so.

Bogle came down that day, did he?—Yes.

Well, the next day, the 1st January, 1837, did you see Mr. Frederick Bowker?—I think it was previous to that; it was the third or fourth day I was at Alresford.

Was Bogle there?—Yes.

Did you know Mr. Bowker?—Yes.

Did you know lie was the attorney for the Tichborne estates?—Yes. I saw Colonel Nicol and himself drive in, and I was told who he was.

Did you give any directions as to his being excluded from your room, or permitted to enter it?—I gave directions that he was not to be admitted.

Did you tell Bogle and Rous to say there was nobody there except a person named Taylor?—No; I told the servant girl not to let Mr. Bowker disturb me.

Question repeated.—I did not.

Was your door locked?—I turned the key myself.

However, Mr. Bowker finally saw you?—Yes; he came hammering at the door in a very rude manner, and I opened it and asked him what he wanted.

Did he tell you that he was the agent of the Tichborne estates, and that, hearing yon were at Tichborne the day before, he would be happy to give you any information? —No.

Did he ask yon what your business at Tichborne might be?—He did not.

Did you turn from him towards the fire and say you were Sir Roger Tichhorne?—If I put it one way you have different ways to put it in.

Well, then, give it to us in your own way.—He knocked at the door, and after I opened it he said, " I heard that Sir Roger has been in the neighbourhood. Perhaps you are Sir Roger. I shall be happy to give you any information you require." I turned round and said, " Are you not agent for my brother's wife? What do you mean by offering me any information you can give?" Before that he said he had the papers in his hand. I said, " What do you mean by offering the papers to me?" And he said, " If you are Sir Roger Tichborne they are yours, and I will help your case." I then took up the catalogue and asked, " How came these pictures to be sold?" He took up a paper and said, " Anything iu this paper?" I said, " If you don't get out of this room I shall bq under the necessity of kicking you out." (Laughter.)

Well, I'll now give you my version. Were you smoking or drinking brandy and water?—Perhaps I was doing both. (Laughter.)

After you said you were Sir Roger did he tall you he was acting for the infant, and that he should not allow you or anybody else to interfere with the estate?—Nothing of the kind; it was more than he dared say in my presence. I didn't interfere in the estates.

Did you say you expected Lady Tichborne, your mother, next day, and then you should occupy the estate?—Certainly not. I never spoke to him about my mother; her name was not mentioned.

Did you then say you- should apply to your solicitor?—I did not.

And did he ask you for your solicitor's name and address?—He did not.

Did you say that Wells was your attorney's name, and that you could not tell the address?—No.

Was the name " Wells" mentioned at all—No.

Do you know any person of the name of Wells?—No.

Was there amongst the papers you had in your hand a paper from Mr. James Bowker, and did you ask Mr. Frederick Bowker if he was the person mentioned?—Certainly not. I never saw a letter from Mr. James Bowker.

Did he say the letter is Mr. Bowker's—my brother's—the solicitor to the Dowages Lady Tichborne?—Certainly not.

Did you leave Alresford that day?—I can't say.

Did you not leave Alresford early in the morning and very soon after you had seen Mr. Bowker?—Certainly not. I didn't leave Alresford till seven o'clock in the evening.

The question I ask is whether after you saw Mr. Bowker, you did not leave Alresford forthwith?—Certainly not.

Did Bogle leave with you?—Yes.

You then went to Gravesend?—Yes.

Did Bogle go with you?—No; he came to London to Ford's.

Did Bogle tell you he had been to consult Mr. Cullington to make an arrangement with him?—Bogle to make an arrangement with Mr. Cullington!

We have evidently gone back to the region of surprise again (laughter).—Well, that does surprise me.

When did you see Mr. Holmes?—The day after I left Alresford

If you mentioned at Alresford that you were Sir Roger why did you go to Gravesend?—Because my family were there.

Bogle still remaining in London?—Yes.

Why didn't he go with you?—There was no reason for it. I left young Buttes aud Bogle at Ford's.

You had no quarrel with any of the members of the family, and you were coming back after thirteen years! Why didn't you find out some of your family instead of going to Mr.Holmes and Mr. Rous? Why didn't you go and say, " Here I am?"— Because I was instructed not to do so, and in such a way that I couldn't misunderstand it.

But you had broken your mother's injunctions in telling Holmes and Rous who you were?—She distinctly said, members of my family.

Why didn' t you go to Henry and Alfred Seymour, your uncles, with whom you had had no quarrel?—How did I know but they were the persons she meant?

Why didn't you say, " Let there be no mystery in the matter—put me on any catechism you like?"—I did what mv mother wished me to do.

I should like to see the letter.—If I get it you shall have it.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

THIRTY-FIFTH DAY.—FRIDAY, JUNE 30.

THIRTY-FOURTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The proceedings were delayed for a few minutes pending the arrival of the Solicitor-General.

The Solicitor-General on taking his seat, said: Pardon me, my Lord, I was not in. bed till four o'clock this morning.

The Chief-Justice: Four o'clock, did you say? I pity you, Mr. Solicitor. The labour devolving upon you is almost beyond human endurance.

The Solicitor-General: I hope my apology will be some excuse if I show any petulance or want of temper to-day.

The Chief Justice: As far as I am concerned, I absolve you. It is difficult for us to go on in a case of this kind and not to be irritated sometimes. I hope allowances will be made for everybody—the claimant included—connected with this case.

The Jury: We quite concur with your Lordship.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I wish, to express my thanks to the clerk (referring to Mr. Davis, the Associate's Chief Clerk) for the great care and trouble he has taken with regard to the documents handed in. I feel that he is entitled to all praise.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued: Yesterday we got to the 5th of January, when you were at Gravesend for some time. Mr. Gosford had been, before he left England, a very intimate friend of yours, had he not?—Yes.

Your correspondence began as early as 1846?—Yes.

And you had never had one word of quarrel with him from that time?—No, none whatever.

Then, why did you not go to him and announce yourself as Sir Roger immediately on your return?—Well. I wished to carry out the wishes of my mother. When I was in Panama I saw Sir Charles Clifford, who told me that Gosford had sworn that I was dead, and had proved my will.

You left him as your executor?—Yes.

And you had not been heard of since 1854?—No; but I could not understand how a person who had never been out of England could take an oath that I was dead, when he knew nothing about it whatever.

Are you not aware that men swear in their belief?—Yes; but not in the Probate Court.

And that was one of the reasons why you did not go to him?—Yes.

The Chief-Justice: You had left him as executor, you know. It seems to me that he was the person you should have gone to.

The Solicitor-General: Who was Mr. Plowden?—A connection of the family.

What connection?—A Miss Plowden married Sir Henry Tichborne, but not my uncle Henry.

What connection is Mr. Plowden of yours?—I can't tell you anything nearer than I have.

What relation is Mr, Plowden to you?—Really I can't follow pedigrees just at this moment.

Mr. Cullington was the solicitor to the trustees of the Doughty property in 1887, was he not?— I can't say.

Did you know Mr. Plowden before you went away?—Yes.

You had never seen Mr. Cullington?—Not to my knowledge.

Did you know Mr. Plowden well?—Not very well.

Was he older than you?—Yes. I knew him as one of the connections of the Tichborne family, and I met him at Mr. Slaughter's and at Tichborne either in 1818 or 1849, before I went into the country.

You did not know him intimately then?—No.

On the 6th January, 1867, did you find that Mr. Gosford, Mr. Plowden, and Mr. Cullington had come down to Gravesend to see you?—Yes.

I think you were away at the time?—Yes.

Were your wife and child and nurse there?—Yes.

Where had you been?—To Mr. Holmes's, in London.

And when you returned in the evening you drove up to the hotel in a cab?—Yes.

Did you meet those three gentlemen?—Yes, on the top of the first pair of stairs.

They were coming forward to meet you?—Well, they rushed on me in a very impertinent manner.

Did Mr. Plowden address you as " Tichborue " and Mr. Cullington as " Sir Roger"?—Some called out " Tichborne" and some " Sir Roger."

Did you go by them as fast as you could?—No; I continued walking up the stairs. I made no answer to what they said.

Did you lock yourself in your bed-room?—No, I did not.

That you swear?—Yes, upon my oath. I entered my bed-room, rang the bell and sent for some hot water, and then I told the servant to inform the gentlemen that if they sent up their cards in a proper manner as gentlemen I would see them.

How were you dressed that night?—Well, I had on a shirt, a pair of trousers, a waistcoat, and boots. (Laughter.)

But I mean what did you wear outside—we will assume the shirt?—I can't remember my dress.

Did you not wear a large overcoat and a cap with a long peak to it, which hid a good deal of your face?—No. I wore a cap which had a military peak to it, such as is worn in the colonies to keep the sun from the eves.

Did they send their cards up?—No; neither cards nor message reached me afterwards.

Did you say you had written to Mr. Gosford, and made an appointment with him in London?—No, I did not.

Did not the waiter return and ask you where you had posted the letter, and you replied " In Cannon-street"?—Well, I did post a letter in Canuon street, but I certainly never told the waiter so.

Did you write a note to Mr. Gosford and send it down from your sitting room?—Yes; I have some recollection of it.

Is this the note (produced)?—Yes, but I can't make out the " T."

The Solicitor-General read the note as follows:—

Dear Sir,—I posted a note for you at Cannon-street to-day Address to the care of Mr. Cullington, Mansfield-street, Cavendish-square, pardon me, Gentlemen, but i did not wish anyone to know where i was staying with my family, And was much anoyed to see you all here.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Is this a note of Roger Charles Tichborne when he lived in St. James's-place in 1851?—Yes.

I will read it now by way of contrast. It is addressed to Mr. Gosford:—

I hope that my horses have arrived at Tichborne safe. I intend coming down to Tichborne to morrow. I shall leave London by the 1 o'clock train. I shall be at Winchester station at 42 minutes past three o'clock. If you have nothing better to do come down and meet me at the station. I hope by this time you have received my luggage. Pray remember me kindly to Mrs. Gosford.—Believe me yours truly,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Now, just compare them. Are they alike?—There is no comparison; but they were written in different years and under different circumstances.

I selected just a little note for you to see.—Yes; you selected one out of many hundreds, and one which presented the greatest possible contrast.

On the application of the Solicitor-General the Chief-Justice allowed any of the documents to be photographed for convenience sake.

The Solicitor-General (to Claimant): You said something just now about not understanding the " T." What " T " do you mean?—The " T " in Tichborne.

Why so?—I simply meant that the cross of the " T " is through the up stroke instead of being over it. I must have been in a great state of excitement when I did that. I never did so before.

I really don't understand. Mr. Plowden, you know, was a relation of your's, Mr. Gosford was an intimate friend, and you know nothing against Mr. Cullington. What was there to put you into a state of excitement?—Well, I was very much annoyed about their coming down. I had heard a good deal of Mr. Gosford when I was at Alresford, and I was vexed at his bringing them to Gravesend. I had heard that he was the party who had sworn that I was dead. My father, I had been told, had got rid of him for some reason or other.

And that put you into such a state of excitement that you crossed the " T" wrongly?—No doubt I was excited, or I should not have crossed it in that manner. I was certainly very much annoyed to think they had come there.

Was it not natural they should wish to see you?—Well, I did not like the manner in which they came: they pave me no time to dress properly.

Did you not know they had been waiting for hours?—The probability is that I did.

What put you into that state of excitement?—I had found out that their conduct was most unbecoming. They had annoyed my wife for some time previously.

Did you hear that Mr. Plowden had sent up his card as a member of the Tichborne family, with a message that he should like to see your wife?—No, I did not.

. Did you hear that your wife sent back a message to the effect that she could not see him because she was not very well, but that she had often heard you mention his name?—No, I did not.

What was it you heard that leads you to say that their conduct was unbecoming of gentlemen?—Well, I can't exactly say, but I shall prove that it was so.

When did you becosme aware of their conduct?—After they had left.

Then that was not exciting you at the time you wrote the letter?—No.

From whom did you find it out?—I must explain, ion want to know what it was that excited me. Well, in the first place, I was annoyed at the manner in which they addressed me on the stairs, and then my wife told me that they had persisted in seeing her against her will. I don't know whether you call that gentlemanly conduct or not.

The Solicitor-General: I am afraid that my standard and yours are not the same.

The Claimant: Then they sent for an inspector of police, and locked all the doors, just as if I was going to ran away, and next they consulted him as to whether they should send me to a gaol. I have abundant proof of all this.

Who told you all this?—The landlord and the waiter.

Are you going to call them?—Certainly.

What are their names?—I don't know.

Do you know there was an interview three days afterwards between Mr. Holmes and Mr. Gosford?—Yes.

Did Mr. Holmes accompany you to the room?—Yes.

Did Mr. Gosford greet you?-Yes; he shook me by the hand, and said that he never expected to see me again. He did not say " Sit down; perhaps our memories will help us out of this."

Did you say you had been to Tichborne, and that Dr. Lipscombe had recognised you from a window?—I did not.

Did Mr. Gosford ask you if you remembered riding with him on one occasion, when your horse ran away?—I don't recollect the conversation entirely.

Did he ask if you recollected the Seymour family?—No.

Or if you remembered Mrs. Townley?—No.

Or if you called on Lady Doughty?—He did not.

Did he speak of the island near Upton?—No, he never spoke of it.

Did he not say, " Can't you recollect a particular thing that happened about the island?"—I am sure he never spoke about the island at all.

Did he mention Mr. Slaughter?—Yes.

Did he ask you if you had been to see Mr. Cullington?—No. I had heard that Mr. Slaughter was dead, or I should have gone there straightway. I should have gone to him first, not only as my old attorney, but as a friend and a gentleman.

But you heard that Mr. Cullington was his successor;—Yes; I think Rouse told me so.

Did Mr. Gosford ask you if you remembered a horse that you had left with him?— Yes; and I observed, " And my last words to you were, that if I did not come back for seven years you were to part with it."

Did he ask you who made your will?—No.

Did he press you about the will, and say, " Surely you can recollect who made your will; " and did you not say, " Oh! Hopkins, of course?"—No; he asked me about the contents of the will, which I answered. Then I asked him who had proved my death and will, and he said that he had not. On going next day, however, to Doctors' Commons, I was surprised to find that Gosford himself had proved my will.

Will you undertake to swear that you did not, when you were pressed by him about the will, say, " Hopkins, of course "?—I will swear Hopkins's name was never mentioned in connection with the will.

Mr. Slaughter you knew very well?—Yes.

What sort of a man was he in personal appearance?—He was a man about 5ft. 8in., with white hair, and broad set.

A full-faced man?—Well, his face was pretty full.

Had he any whiskers?—A few grey ones, I think.

The Chief-Justice: I thought you said that his hair was white?—Yes, and his whiskers were almost white too.

Did you go to Mr. Slaughter's offices from time to time about your will?—Yes.

Where were his offices?—It was somewhere up Langham-place way—Duchess-street, I think.

Did Gosford ask yon why you had never written to him all the time you were in Australia?—No, I am certain he did not.

You wrote to him continuously prior to the wreck of the Bella?—Yes.

You wrote more letters to him than to any other person living?—I don't say that.

It is a fact that your correspondence with him did suddenly stop?-Yes, it stopped with everybody.

Did he ask you if you knew Moore?—Yes.

And where he last left you? Did you not say he left you at Monte Video?—No.

Did he ask you whether you recollected sending him a quantity of packages from South America?—I think it was the other way. I told him I had sent them.

Did you say you did not remember it?—No.

Did he ask you how you got from Chili to Rio?—No.

Did you not say, " By ship, of course? —No. It is fortunate that some one else was in the railway carriage when this conversation took place.

Did you say to him you should like to know who the two were who made an affidavit that you went on board the Bella?—No: my words were, that I should like to know who had sworn that I was dead.

Did you say that the d—d sailors never put your luggage on board?—No.

Who did you expect made the affidavit?—I expected that one of the two was my discharged servant, Berrow.

Have you tried to discover Berrow?—Yes.

And cannot find him?—Yes.

You told us yesterday about Etheridge and the cat. Did you say anything about that little incident to Mr. Gosford?—No; the name of Etheridge was never mentioned.

Did he ask about the names of your dogs?—No: I think not.

Did you give him any of your dogs?— Yes; I gave him a little rough-haired bitch just before I went away. Its name was " Rough."

Did you say to him, " You remember that grey pony my uncle used to drive?" and that he said he did not recollect it?—No, he never drove a grey pony. The grey pony that I alluded to was one belonging to Alfred, which Mr. Seymour gave him. I asked Goaford what had become of it.

Did you say to Gosford, " How is Percival?"—Percival! who's he?

Did you turn to him and say, " How is Percival?"—Certainly not.

Did he not say, " Oh, he's quite well?"—Certainly not. I never knew the name. I know that Mr. Radcliffe's name is Percival: but I didn't know it then.

Whilst you were at Gravesend was there not a " Peerage" and " Baronetage" in your sitting-room?—No, there were not.

Was there a leaf turned down at the title " Tichborne? "—There was no such book there. If there had been I should have seen it. If you want to know, I may say that I had seen a " Peerage " long before that. There might have been one there which belonged to the hotel, but I do not remember seeing it.

Where had you seen a " Peerage " or " Baronetage? "—At Sydney.

Where did the conversation happen with Gosford?—Chiefly in the train. We were about four hours coming from Gravesend to London that night. It was winter time, and the rails were blocked with snow.

Do you recollect Canterbury being mentioned, as you passed through Kent?—No.

Did he ask you if you remembered being quartered there, and did you not say " No?"—I did not.

Did he not say, " Surely you remember Canterbury," and did you not reply, " I wasn't aware it was in Kent."—I did not.

Did he ask you where you were quartered in Ireland, and did you not say, " Well, I was a good deal in Dublin, and the Curragh of Kildare?"—No, I have no recollection of his speaking about Ireland at all.

Did he ask you the name of the colonel?—No.

You were unable to give it to him?—No. I could have told him if he had asked me.

Did he not ask you if you remembered a horse running away?—No.

And did you not say you could not recollect?—I did not.

Did you speak of your mother several times, and say you were going to Paris to see ker?—Yes.

Did you constantly speak of Lady Tichborne as your mamma?—I sometimes called her " mamma" and sometimes " mother."

How did you call her when in England?—I used to call her mostly as my mother. I might have called her mamma at times.

Did he ask you how you found the funds for living whilst you were abroad?—He did not.

Did not Mr. Holmes say, " Oh, he lived on the price of his commission? "—I will swear that Mr. Holmes never uttered one word from the time he entered the railway carnage until he left it.

Did you say you had lived on the proceeds of the commission?—I might have done so. but I have no recollection of it.

Do you remember saying to him, " You recollect going over with me to Tichborne to take leave of my uncle and aunt," and that he replied in the negative?—I don't remember.

Did you not then say, " You must, I think, remember it, because that man from Winchester was there who used to come to clean the pictures?"—No, I did not. I never knew anv man who cleaned nictures.

Did you write to Lady Tichborne the next day, giving her an account of your conversation with Gosford?—I can't say. I know I wrote one letter that never reached her.

Did Gosford assent to most of the things you mentioned?—He was cognizant of all I said to him. There was no dispute about anything.

Is this your letter?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

International hotel, late Terminus London Bridge, Jany. 9, 1867.

Dear and beloved Mama,—I am here, and am prevented by circumstance from coming to see you. Oh do come over and see me at once. i will not go out of the hotel until you come. I have been town to Tichborne, and had a look at the dear old place once more, and it made my heart bled to look at the destruction there has been made there: but as my poor brother is dead we will not mention that subject again, let the past be past, and no more about it. i have seen Mr. Gosford; he seems very much change to what he used to be; he came in the train from Gravesend last night, and I had a long talk with him; he seems to deny everything I put him in mind of. He says he don't remember my coming down in the coach from London with me to tichborne. I had a hour conversation with him about different things, mama, that nobody in the world could have told him but me. I never (or I even) told him under what circumstance Moore came left me. You must remember, mama, I wiite to him from almost every place. Cullington and a lot more would insist on seeing me at Gravesend when they came, and because I did not wish to see them until I had seen you they were very angry. Oh, do come at once to the hotel, mama, I will notgo out until you come. Everything will be explained when you come. It dangerous for me to go out, as some of the bills I drew in Sidney are due, and (think or believe) they intend to arrest mo if I attempt to leave England—so do come at once, mama. I didn't receive an answer to the telegram I sent from New York. Hoping I will not have to wait long before I see you, I remain, your ever affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Why could you not go out of the hotel until Lady Tichborne came?—Because I had heard that one of your party had brought up one of my bills, and intended to arrest me.

Did you not know you must have been sued upon it first?—I did not.

Did you hear from Mr. Holmes, about the 9th of January, 1867, that one of " my party" had bought up a bill?—Yes.

How did he describe " my party?"—Well, I don't exactly remember. He said that one of those who were against me had bought up one of the bills, and intended to arrest me when I went to Paris.

You state that " he seems to deny everything I put him in mind of."—Yes. When he got out of the train he shook hands with me in the most friendly manner possible, but afterwards he told Mr. Holmes that everything I had said was untrue. He certainly assented to everything I said in the train.

What do you mean by his not remembering coming down in the coach with you?— Whatever are you mixing up now?

What does this allude to: " He says he does not remember coming down in tne coach from London?"—Well, it means that we did come down from Guildford in a coach at one time, and that he did not remember it.

What does this mean: " Cullington and a lot more would insist on seeing me at Gravesend when they came, and because I did not wish to see them until I had seen you they were very angry? "—It alludes to the meeting on the stairs, though I have not expressed it quite so plainly as I might have done.

Then you say, " Everything will be explained when you come." What was there to be explained?—I expected to be arrested if I went out. There were many matters to be explained, my stay abroad, especially. Some of the tills I had drawn in Sydney were due.

But the persons took the bills on the understanding that time was to be given you to place the money in the bank?—Yes, certainly.

You had an answer to the bills?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Certainly not.

The Chief-Justice: What was the amount of the bill?—I can't tell, but I think it was not a large one, because Mr. Holmes took money to meet it in case they arrested me at Boulogne.

Cannot you tell me the amount?—How is it possible for me to give you an idea, my lord, when I don't know whose bill it was? I think it was between £200 and £300.

Had you been to Glyn's?—No; my money had all been drawn out then.

The Solicitor-General: You then started, as I understand, for Paris, to see Lady Tichborne, whom you had not seen for 14 years?—Yes.

Did you go with Mr. Holmes and Mr. Leet?—Yes; I wish to say that I met the latter gentleman on my return from Alresford to Gravesend.

Then on the 10th January he was a friend of a few days old?- Yes.

And you went, with him and your attorney?—Yes; I think I ought to explain why they went with me.

Very well.—I learnt that the opposition was so great that they did not mean to let me go; and Mr. Holmes and Mr. Leet went, in fact, to protect me. They took money with them for various purposes.

Who were the leaders of the opposition at that time?—It is hard to say. No doubt Cullington and Gcsford were at the bottom of it.

Did Mr. Holmes mention their names as parties against whom you were to be protected?—I don't think he mentioned any names particularly. It was very apparent, judging from the paragraphs in the papers, that people were against me. It is clear that those who wrote the paragraphs were influenced and prejudiced against me.

Can you give me the names of any persons who were going to arrest you?—No.

You had only known Mr. Holmes for two days?—I had seen him twice at his office in London, then again at London Bridge and Gravesend, and that makes several days.

Did Mr. James Bowker, Lady Tichborne's attorney, write to you soon after you landed, offering to call upon you?—No.

Did you have a letter from him, dated the 26th December?—No. I never heard the name until I saw the gentleman at Alresford—at least that is my impression. I knew nothing of the firm in Gray's Inn.

Will you swear you did not get a letter from Mr. Bowker, offering to call upon you?—Yes, I have no recollection of it.

Did you not hear from Bogle that Mr. Bowker had called at Ford's Hotel to see you, but not finding you at home he wrote to you the letter referred to? -No, I did not.

Did you not show the letter to Mr. Frederick Bowker at Alresford?—No, I did not. I never saw the letter. He would be about the last person in the world to whom I should show a letter.

How long did you stay in Paris the first time?—About nine or ten days. The exact time can be easily ascertained.

Did you come back on the 22nd of January?—Yes, some time about then.

Did Bogle go to Paris?—Yes, my mother sent for him whilst I was there.

And did he arrive whilst you were there?—Yes.

And he came back with you?—Yes, he did.

You recollect the correspondence between Messrs. Dobinson and Geare, the defendant's attorneys, and your attorneys, which has already been read?—I should like to have those letters read again.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I will look at them myself instead.

The Solicitor-General: Was there not an offer made by Messrs. Dobinson and Geare to give you a meeting between the members of your family—your relatives and friends and yourself — you to be surrounded by every protection—counsel, solicitor, and friends—and that you should choose time and place? Can you give me any reason why you yourself did not accept that offer?—I left myself entirely in the hands of my attorney, and if I did not go to that meeting you may rest assured he had very good motives for it.

The Solicitor-General: I agree with you.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine complained of this observation. The claimant had a right to be treated the same as any other plaintiff, and the remark was uncalled for.

The Solicitor-General: If your client makes remarks of that kind, I must reply to him. (To the Claimant): Can you give me any reason why you did not go to the meeting?—No, I can't. I do not remember what reason there was why I did not do so. You will see the reason, no doubt, if you read the answer of my attorney. Perhaps yon will give me the date of the letter.

The 22nd of February, 1867.—No, I can give no reason. I never heard the letter read.

Suppose, for the purpose of my question, that it was verbal. If an offer was made of such meeting, why did you not accept it?—You led me to suppose that it was in a letter.

Supposing the offer was either verbally or in writing, then can you give me any reason why you did not accept it?—I know of no one excepting it refers to the appointment which Mr. Seymour wished to make. If it does, then there were reasons why my attorney wished me not to attend. I am not aware that any other proposal was ever made for me.

The Chief-Justice: Was there any reason for your not acceding to the offer?—No, my lord. It was the very thing Mr. Holmes wished, but it was to be done in a proper manner. I think if such a proposal had been made I should only have been too glad to do so.

The Chief-Justice: Such an offer, I may say, is distinctly made in the letter.

The two letters—the one written by Messrs. Dobinson, and tiie answer, which have already been published—were here read.

The Solicitor-General: It appears that the offer was made to you.—If you had read the letter at first you would have saved all this discussion.

There never was a meeting of the kind desired?—No; I think not.

Do you recollect being down at Alresford in February, and some communication made to you about Mrs. Greenwood, upon which you wrote to her?—Yes; I declined writing for some time. I was so ill that I could not hold my head up.

Is this the letter?—I don't know till I look at it. I should think it is.

The Solicitor-General read the letter, as follows:—

Swan Hotel, Alresford, 3rd Feb., 1867.

My dear Cousing Kate,—I am very sorry i am not able to come and see you before I go, my head is so bad that i am not fit to come. Mr. Baigont is very much annoyed about it, but i am coming here to spend a few days at the end of the week, and i shall then have the pleasure of meeting you again. You will excuse me for not coming has it will only be a few days before I am with you. I have an invitation from Hopkins to spend a few day with him, so I shall be down about Thursday; give my regard to Cousing William, and I shall soon be down again and have the pleasure of a hunt with my old friend George. With my best regards, my dear Cousin, to you and your family I remain your affectionate cousin,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

I have to meet mama to-morrow at Dover, and our address will be Essex lodge, thornton heath. Croydon.

Now, is this a letter from Roger Charles Tichborne to Mrs. Greenwood, dated Dec., 6, 1852?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General: Then I will read it, and leave the jury to compare the two.

Upton House, Poole, Dorset.

My dear Cousin,—I shall not, I am sorryjto say, be able to go and spend a day or two at Brookwood, as you had the kindness to invite me the last time I had the pleasure of seeing you. I shall be obliged to go to Paris at the beginning of next week, where I shall remain in all probability till about a week or ten days before I embark for South America. My time is in consequence so much taken up with one thing or other that it will be, I regret to say, impossible for me to leave Upton this week. I should feel much obliged if you, when you have a moment to spare, you favoured me with a letter. Though I shall be far away, it will always give me much pleasure during my wanderings in South America to hear from you or Colonel Greenwood. I certainly will answer your letters (though you must excuse my bad handwriting), and give you an account, if you feel any interest in it, to what kind of sport I get at the top of the Andes and in the middle of the forest of South America. Pray remember me verv kindly to Col. Greenwood. and believe me, my dear cousin, your affectionate cousin.

R. C. TICHBORNE.

6th December, 1852.

The Solicitor-General: Early in February Lady Tichborne had come over from Paris, had she?—Yes.

And soon after you and she went to live at Croydon?—Yes.

Did you get talking over old times with her?—No doubt about that.

And I dare say she showed you old books and things she cared for?—I think not.

Did not she show you any old letters of Roger?—No; she showed me no letters of mine.

The Solicitor-General then read the letter which the claimant wrote to Mr. Henry Seymour on the 10th of February, 1867, referring amongst other things to the Poole election, and containing this sentence: " I suppose you remember the time they wanted me to stand for it." Just look at that. You said you would let me have the requisition to you from Poole.—So I did, and I should let you have it if I found it. I can give you evidence that I got it.

The Solicitor-General also read a letter written by Roger Charles Tichborne to Mr. Henry Seymour, dated 13th December, 1850. It principally referred to hunting and other amusements in which the writer took part while in Tipperary. Both letters were put in for comparison of handwriting and style.

The Claimant: It is not fair that you should pick out these letters, that are so contrary, out of hundreds you have in your possession.

The Solicitor-General: Do you think them contrary?—Yes. After the lapse of years I hadn't picked up my handwriting.

The same person wrote those two?—I wrote them both.

After writing that letter on the 10th of February, 1867, did Mr. Seymour go down to Alresford to see you? — Yes.

And did you meet for the first time at the door of Mr. Hopkins's house?—Yes.

Did he open the conversation by saying, " How do you do? Do you know me?"—I don't think it was that way.

Did you say who he was?—I did.

Did not Mr. Hopkins interpose and say, " That's Mr. Seymour: won't you come in?"—No. It was I said it.

There was another man with him?—Yes.

Did Mr. Seymour say " If you are Roger Tichborne you know this man; and did you not say, " That's my uncle Nangle?''—No. I said, " He looks very much like the Nangles."

I think you told me this man who was with Mr. Seymour was a youngish man?—Yes.

And Mr. Nangle is a gentleman about seventy?—Old Mr Nangle is; but I wish you to understand there are three of the Nangles who are young men.

Did Mr. Hopkins say, " No, Sir Koger, that is Mr. Burdon?"—No, Burdon came in with Mr. Seymour; and Mr. Hopkins said, " Who is this?" Mr. Seymour then said, " He is one of Sir James's old servants;" and then I said, " It is Burdon." Although I had seen Burdon a few days previous, and picked him out of a room full of people, I didn't know him again on that occasion.

Then your memory for faces is not good?—No; he looked so different a person. Mr. Seymour got him togged up—(laughter)—and brought him down in a first-class carriage.

Did Mr. Hopkins ask Mr. Seymour in to have some luncheon?—He asked him into the dining-room.

Did Mr. Seymour say he wished to go into a room, as he wanted to have some conversation to know whether you were Eoger Tichborne or not?—He declined to go into any room unless Burdon was with him. Mr. Hopkins said he was not in the habit of allowing servants to enter his room, and if Mr. Seymour didn't think proper to address me in his company, he had nothing further to say.

What I suggest is that you all four went in without the slightest demur on the part of Mr. Hopkins, and that he said, " Would you like me to withdraw?"—I suggest it is false. Burdon never came into the room. Mr. Seymour, Mr. Hopkins, and myself were there, and Burdon was shown into the library.

Did you all sit down?—Mr. Seymour, Mr. Hopkins, and myself sat down.

Did Mr. Seymour begin to speak to you in French, and did you say you could not speak or understand a word of French?—No; I did not. I answered him in Engish.

Then you understood what he said?—It happened that I did.

What did he say in French?—I can't remember.

How long did he talk in French, and you in English?—If you were to calculate it with a stop-watch, it would be about 40 seconds. (Laughter.)

Did both of you talk English for the rest of the interview?—We did.

Did you say you could not speak or understand a word of French?—I told him I could not speak French. I certainly understood what he said.

The Chief-Justice: Do I understand you to say you can understand French, although you cannot speak it.

The Claimant: There are times when I understand words, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: Do you mean there are other times when you don't understand them.

The Claimant: There are words I understand at times, and at other times I don't understand.

The Chief-Justice: Are you able to talk French at all?

The Claimant: At times I can make use of a few words, but it is entirely gone.

The Solicitor-General: Did Mr. Henry Seymour ask you to give an account of your escape from shipwreck?—No.

Did you tell him there were seven or eight men saved with you?—I never spoke about the ship at all. I was only in the room with him about five minutes. He would not remain in the room without Burdon, and then Mr. Hopkins suggested that I should go out in the garden and smoke a cigar, and let him and Mr. Seymour have a conversation.

Did not Burdon, during the conversation, put an envelope across the table and ask you if you knew the writing?—No.

And did not Mr. Hopkins say, " That's your father's writing, Sir Roger? "—No, it never happened.

Had you a long and considerable conversation with Mr. Seymour?—I should think it lasted five minutes and no more: that was in the dining-room.

Did he ask about your visits to Knoyle?—He did not.

And what your amusements at Knoyle were?—No.

Did you say your principal amusement there was shooting?—I did not.

Was there a helmet produced and tried on?—When Mr. Seymour was there?

Yes.—There was not.

Did not Mr. Hopkins produce a helmet and try it on your head, and did not Mr. Seymour say it wasn't a good fit?—He didn't put any helmet on my head in Mr. Seymour's presence.

Did Mr. Seymour ask you why you didn't go to see his sisters—your aunts?—He did not.

At the end of the interview did he say you were not Sir Roger Tichborne, but that if you were willing to see him you could do so at 39, Grosvenor-street?—It so happened that I didn't see him at the end of the interview. When I returned from the garden he was gone.

At any point of the interview did he say he didn't believe you to be Sir Roger Tichborne, but that if you wished to meet him again he would be quite ready to see you at 39, Grosvenor-street?—Not to me, but from what Mr. Hop ins o me believe he said it to him.

At the interview at Mr. Hopkins's when Mr. Seymour was present, was there a large bundle of Roger Charles Tichborne's letters produced?—There wasn't a letter of any description produced. I never saw any of my letters in his presence.

Did you see any letters there?—I believe I saw one of my own letters.

Was there any letter there in which there were marks underlined drawing attention to particular words and expressions?—I tell you I never saw any letter there. What is the good of asking me about marks? There was no letter or document or paper of any kind produced in Mr. Seymour's presence. The only letter I saw at Hopkins's was one he produced to test me. He told me the date, and I told him what it was all about.

Before you went out, did Mr. Henry Seymour treat you as his nephew or not?—ron my word I don't understand you.

I mean on the one occasion when you met Mr. Seymour at Mr. Hopkins's house. Did he part from you on the footing that you were his nephew?—Considering that he wouldn't remain in the room except Burdon was there, I shouldn't think he did. (Laughter.)

You meant he disbelieved in you?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: That is a different thing.

The Solicitor-General: Did he disbelieve your story?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: How can he tell you?

The Chief-Justice: The plaintiff heard afterwards from Mr. Hopkins that Mr. Seymour did not believe he was his nephew.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Certainly, my lord; that is the whole of it.

The Solicitor-General (to the claimant): Did he treat you throughout as if you were not his nephew?—He did, certainly.

Is that your handwriting? (Letter produced.)—It is.

This is the letter:—

Essex Lodge, Thornton Heath, Croydon, 15th Feb., 1867.

My dear Mama—I arrived here from Alresford the night before last, so that I can come and meet you when you arrive at Dover. My dear mama, I have met with many friends at Alresford that know me well, and have received a very welcome reception from them. The Alresford church bells rung very merrily when I arrived. I received a visit from Colonel Lushington. He lunched with us at Mr. Hopkins's the next day with Mrs. Lushington. Mr. Hopkins and myself then returned with them to Tiehborae. I pointed out to the colonel the pictures that belonged to me. I found my helmet, and I put it oil. It fit me now has well as ever. The colonel is perfectly satisfied, has acted very kind, and told me he would give up the house at any time I wanted it. He invited me to go and stay with him, and take my wife there with me, but I cannot well do that at present. Poor old Stubbs and Noble knew me as soon has they see me, likewise a great many more about there. The Tichborne bells rang for about two days, and in fact I could not have been received more kindly. I have received a very kind letter from Mr. Scott and Mr. and Mrs. Marks. I have seen Henry Seymore (Seymour), but he had been so poisoned by Cullington and Gosford that at first he would not own me. Mr. Hopkins very kindly had a long talk with him, and so had I. Of course he soon altered his mind a little. He brought William Burdon over with him, but as Mr. Holmes had found that William had been tampered with I would not allow him in my company, nor would Mr. Hopkins. Cullington had told uncle Henry that 1 was the client of Mr. Hopkins, and a great many more falsehoods. Mr. Hopkins is now living independent, and has only acted as a friend to me. There is a great many things that I wish to speak to you about as soon as you come. I am only waiting for your telegram, to coupe and meet you at Dover. My wife and child are quite well, and very anxious to see you. They send their love to you, my dear mama, and I remain, yr afft son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Claimant: I would like to see that letter. If you were reading one of my other letters you would read it different from that. (Laughter.) (Looking at the letter): Why did you say Mr. Seymour's name was spelt " m-o-r-e "?

The Solicitor-General: Don't ask me questions. Let the jury see the letter.

The Chief-Justice: What do you say it is?

The Claimant: " M-o-u-r," my lord.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am going to put in a great many more letters than have been put in yet—not to read them.

The Solicitor-General: Look at Mr. H. Seymour's name in the seventh line of the second passage of the letter, and tell me how it is spelt?—It is meant for " mour."

The Chief-Justice; It may be meant. How is it spelt?

The Claimant: It appears to be " m-ou-r."'

The Solicitor-General: Hand it to the judge and the jury. Is it true you had a long talk with Mr. Seymour?—No.

What do you mean by saying in the letter, " Mr. Hopkins had a long talk with him, and so had I "?—I didn't mean to say I had a long talk with him. Mr. Hopkins had.

And you say " of course he altered his mind a little?"—So Mr. Hopkins told me, that he altered his mind when he left.

He did not tell you he altered his mind in consequence of your talk?—No, Mr. Hopkins told me his mind was very much altered when he went away.

Did he say when he went away that he did not believe you to be Sir Roger, but that if you chose to call at 39, Grosvenor-street he would see you again?—Mr. Hopkins told me he made an appointment for me to see Mr. Seymour at Grosvenor-street, and it was agreed that there was to be a meeting there.

Did the meeting come off?—No, I think not.

You know it did not?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General: I ask you this, whether Mr. Seymour did not say to yourself that he did not believe you were Roger Charles Tichborne, but that if you chose to go to Grosvenor-street and talk to him, he would be quite ready to see you; and whether you yourself did not appoint five o'clock the next day, and accompany Mr. Seymour and Burdon to Mr. Hopkins's door?—I'll take my positive oath and solemnly swear I was in the garden when Mr. Seymour went away. If I am speaking falsely, it is easy to prove it by Mr. Hopkins's servants.

Yes; and there is Mr. Seymour.—I suppose another person' s word is as good as his.

In your letter to Lady Tichborne you mentioned there were a great many things you wished to talk about. Had they anything to do with the Alresford matters?—I can't say.

This letter was written on the loth of February, 1867. it was in the latter part of the month that Carter came to you?—I don't remember the day Carter came.

Did you go to Mr. Seymour's next day?—No.

Did Mr. Hopkins write to Mr. Seymour by your desire to explain?—I really can't say.

Did you say you had gone that afternoon to Brighton, and that you would take the earliest opportunity of having an interview with Mr. Seymour?—If Mr. Hopkins says so, I have no doubt it is so.

Why didn't you go?—There was a reason, but I can t remember what it was.

Carter came to you towards the end of February?—I can't say when it was.

M'Cann came on the 3rd of March?—Yes.

On the 8th of March I believe you had an interview with Mr. and Mrs. Redcliffe and Mrs. Townley?—Yes.

Had you known Mr. Radcliffe in early life?—No.

Then this was your first sight of him?—It was.

I believe you had two interviews with Mr. Radcliffe?—Yes.

Were you in the room on the first occasion when Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe and Mrs. Townley came to see you?—I was not in the room they went into.

Did you go into the room where they were?—Yes.

Did you go up to Mrs. Radcliffe and call her Lucy Townley?—No.

Did you call her Mrs. Townley?—No.

Did you call her Lucy, and ask after Mr. Townley?—No.

Did you address Mrs. Townley as Mrs. Radcliffe?—No.

Had Mrs. Radcliffe got on a spotted veil?—I can't say.

Did she lift up the veil so as to have the light full in her face?—No.

After some time did Mr. Radcliffe say, " Are you quite sure you are addressing your two cousins by their right names? "—No.

Did you talk in a sort of broken accent to them?—I did not.

With a sort of French accent?—No.

Will you swear that?—Yes, I will. I spoke in my natural manner—as I am speaking to you now.

You didn't put on a French accent?—I did not.

Did Mr. Radcliffe say, '' You don't recollect your cousins;" and did you say, " I don't recognise them, and they don't recognize me, we are all so altered?"—I said nothing of the kind.

Did Mrs. Radcliffe then say to you, " When did we last meet?"—No.

And did you say, " Don't you recollect; it was before I left England, when uncle Edward was so ill?"—I didn't.

Did she ask you if you remembered her horses; and did you say, " No, I only recollect uncle Edward's white pony, which used to draw his wheel chair? Gracious me! I never said such a thing as that.

Or anything like that?—No.

Was there any allusion as to the time when you and Mrs. Radcliffe last met?—I think not.

Are you certain?—Quite certain.

Did you say anything about the illness of your uncle Edward?—Not a word.

Did Mrs. Radcliffe ask you where you first met Bogle?—Abroad, do you mean?

Yes.—Possibly she might have done that.

Did you say that after you met Guilfoyle at Sydney both of you went to Mr. Cubitt's office to inquire for Bogle's address, and that you were leaving the office when, to your great surprise, you saw Bogle in the court?—Certainly not. There is no court of any description near Cubitt's office, and Guilfoyle never went there with me in his life.

Did you say that Bogle at first did not recognise you, but that he did after you began to talk about Tichborne and Upton, and after you stayed some time with him talking over old times?—I did not.

Did you say that Moore had behaved very badly, and that you never wished to see him again?—I don't think so.

Did Mrs. Radcliffe ask you different questions about matters which had taken place in early times, when Mrs. Radcliffe and you had been at Tichborne together?—She did not.

And did you at last say to her, " The fact is, I can't recollect anything?''—I did not.

Did you tell her you were so thin when you were married that your wife could carry you on her back? (Laughter.)—I don't think I told her. I said so to other people since.

You have told me what did not take place; just tell me what did take place.—I was sitting in the drawing-room with my mother when a cab drove to the front. A lady and gentleman passed through the front garden to the door. They announced themselves as Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe. They were shown into the other drawingroom. I then opened the folding doors which divided the two rooms, and my mother and myself were about to enter, when Radcliffe, in the rudest manner possible, slammed the door in my mother's face, and said, " You are not wanted here." That put me in such a state that I did not know what to do. It had been reported that I did not wish to see people, and I did not wish them to go away for that very reason. I knew my mother would be offended if I remained with them. However, I decided to remain and speak to them for a few minutes. Accordingly I went up to the lady and said, " How do you do, Katie? " She was deeply veiled. I was speaking to her a few minutes when I found to my great surprise it wasn't Mrs. Radcliffe, but Mrs. Townley. I asked Radcliffe what he meant by telling me it was Mrs. Radcliffe. " Oh," he said, " Mrs. Radcliffe is outside in a cab," and he went and brought her in.

That is your account?—Yes, and that is the true account. It caused great unpleasantness between my mother and me for some days after. I only remained with them for a few minutes.

When did you discover the mistake that you were speaking to Mrs. Townley instead of Mrs. Radcliffe?—Before I had been sneaking to her a minute and a half.

Did it occur to you that, the object being to ascertain whether you could recognise your cousins, whom Lady Tichborne knew, it would be better not to have her there?

The Claimant (warmly): Does it not occur to you that you wouldn't like to have your mother insulted in her own house by a fellow like that?

Question repeated.—It did not.

Did Mr. Radcliffe ask you why you had not been to see Lady Doughty?—The only words he said were, " Here are you and your cousin; you can talk about old times." My answer was, " Whatever happened in old times between her and me is sacred, and shall not be known to you." (The claimant pronounced " sacred " as though it were spelt " sakrid.") We shook hands, and they asked me if I would give them another meeting. I was certainly not in a fit state to speak to them or anybody. My attorney afterwards kindly offered me his own house, because I could not ask them again to my mother's place.

Did Mr. Radcliffe ask you why you hadn't been to see Lady Doughty?—No.

And why, after all her kindness, you hadn't written to her after the shipwreck, or called on her since you came to England?—He never uttered one word of it.

Did he say you hadn't shown great gratitude in return for Sir Edward having left property to Sir Roger which might have been left to his own daughter?—No.

Did you say, " I made that all right at Paris?"—I said nothing of the kind. I was in such a state of mind I don't know what was said.

Have your lawyers advised you not to speak on such subjects?— What subjects?

The subjects he was speaking about?—Certainly not: he never spoke about any subjects.

Did you tell him you had got the captain and several of the sailors of the Bella?—I did not.

That you had been recognised by many of your brother officers?—I did not.

That Gosford must have recognised you, but wouldn't admit it?—There is no doubt about that.

That you had said many things to Gosford which he smust know to be true?—That is the case.

But did you tell Mr. Radcliffe so?—Certainly not. How could I speak to a man who had acted in such a cruel manner as he had done?

Did he ask you to relate some of your adventures in South America?—He did, and I refused to do it.

Did you not tell him you were advised by your lawyers to hold your tongue upon these subjects, but at some future time you would satisfy him?—I said nothing of the kind.

Did you say to him as he was leaving the room, " Tell Katie I've got still the little black crucifix that she gave me and that she knows of?"—I did not. It didn't happen to be a black one; it is a white one. (Laughter.)

Did you use those words, or words to the same effect, when you were leaving the room?—I did not.

You say you had no quarrel with any member of your family before you returned. Who was the person of all the members of your family to whom you felt most attached, and in whose affection for yourself you had the most confidence?—That is rather a curious way of putting it. What do you mean, male or female? (Laughter.)

I am asking you which of your relations you were most intimate with, and in whose friendship towards yourself you had the most reliance?—Henry Seymour.

You knew where he lived?—Yes.

You knew he had a town house and a country house?—Yes.

Why didn't you go to him?—After that meeting?

No, at first.—Because, as I told you before, it was at the expressed wish of my mother. As regards the letters, I must state to you that they are in the bands of Mr. Dawson, of Sydney, who says he has a lien on them. There is no lien, because I paid his bill some time ago, and he ought to deliver them.

They are not here?—I wish they were.

Well, there you and I agree for once, is the letter, or are the letters in which Lady Tichborne gave you that instruction with Mr. Dawson?—They are.

Now, with regard to Mr. Henry Seymour and Mr. Alfred Seymour, they could not be in the remotest degree affected in a pecuniary sense by your success or otherwise in this matter. Did Lady Tichborne give any reason for your not seeing them?—She distinctly told me not to see any members of the family until I had seen her. She said something had happened which made it a necessity that I should see her before I saw anybody else.

And that you understand to apply to persons upon whose interests your return could not have the slightest effect?—She simply said no member or connection with the family.

What happened that made it so essential that you should see nobody until you had seen her?—In the first place, what had taken place to oppose me on my return? Having received Bogle's letter from Sydney, every arrangement was made to oppose me in every possible way. Mr. Higgins—" Jacob Omnium —was got to write certain articles of the most scurrilous kind in the papers.

Well, Mr. Higgins is dead, you know?—I can't help that.

The Solicitor-General: " De mortuis nil nisi bonum."

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We all know what appeared, and who was the writer.

The Claimant: I am sorry to speak of the dead, but there are times when you must do it

The Solicitor-General: And this was the reason?—Yes, and many and many other things. Every preparation that it was possible to make was made by people opposed to me.

Did it occur to you that the shortest way to put an end to Chancery proceedings was to go to Henry Seymour, upon whose interest your success or ill-success could not have the least effect, and satisfy him you were the person?—I think it is a lucky job I did not, because I should be worse off than I am now.

Why?—Because he would have taken means to prevent my seeing my mother at all.

What do you mean? What sort of means?—How do I know what sore of means?

What do you mean by saying he would have taken means?—I mean ne would have tried to frustrate my doing it.

Frustrate your doing it?—Perhaps you want me to give you the meaning of " frustration." (Laughter.)

Well, I do.—Yes, I thought so. (Renewed laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: Those who laugh like you at that statement may forget you are making the grossest imputation on an honourable man.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Whenever the witness has to be reproved I am sure my lord from the bench will do so, and not the counsel who is opposed to him. (Slight applause in court.)

The Solicitor-General: What means would have been taken to frustrate you:—How do I know what means? Wherever I turned I found an enemy, no matter who it was. Even I found that the servants in my house were meddled with by the detectives. The very conversation was known. It was known whether I took two cups of tea instead of three. (Laughter.) It was known whether I had three glasses of brandy and water instead of four. (Renewed laughter.) How do I know how to turn?

Question repeated as to the means which Mr. Seymour might have taken.—When he went and associated with a man like Burden, dressed him, and brought him down to Alresford in a first-class carriage—what could I expect after that?

He hadn't done that?—(With energy) He had done it, sir.

What means would he have taken?—I don't know; but it is my firm belief he would have taken some if he could.

What do you refer to in saying that?—I refer to his conduct at that time and since.

Do you mean his coming to meet you at Alresford and having that interview with you which you described to Lady Tichborne, and his offering to see you at 39, Grosvenor-street if you chose to call?—I allude to his conduct then and since. He is my uncle, and surely he could not have refused to come and see me in his sister's presence. I wrote and asked him to do that. Surely he could have done it.

The Chief-Justice: You have got a little excited by this conversation. What was there to prevent you going and seeing him?

The Claimant I believe, my lord, I have already said it was my mother's wish I should not do so.

The Solicitor-General: Then, having seen your mother, was there any reason why you should not see him at Grosvenor-street?—I'm sure there was a reason.

What was it?—I can't exactly say, but I think Mr. Holmes can tell. He wrote to me and asked me not to go there. The reason was told me at the time, but I certainly cannot remember now what it was.

The Court then adjourned till Monday morning.

THIRTY-SIXTH DAY.—MONDAY, JULY 3.

THIRTY-FIFTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

At the sitting of the court it was intimated that one of the jury was absent.

The Chief-Justice said he thought it right to avail himself of the interval by referring to matters in which both sides were interested. In the first place he would like to know what was the state of the proceedings in the Court of Chancery, and whether there was now an opportunity in that court of filing affidavits on either side.

The Solicitor-General: I believe, my lord, the suit is abated in Chancery.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Not "abated."

The solicitor-General: I don't know what the right word is.

The Chief-Justice: Perhaps Mr. Chapman Barber, who is a high authority, will be kind enough to inform me whether the state of the proceedings in Chancery is such that affidavits can be filed on both sides.

Mr. Chapman Barber: Certainly not, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: I have received a letter to which it is necessary I should call the attention of counsel on both sides. It purports to be written by a lady materially interested in this case, and it was sent to me at my private address, I presume without the knowledge of counsel on either side. The circumstances under which the lady has written to me might, in consequence of the peculiar position in which she is placed, excuse her addressing me on the subject, and of course if the letter had been confined to matters with which she individually had to deal, I should have simply handed the letter to the opposite party, and the counsel on both sides. But unfortunetely it professes to be written, as you will see in a moment, not only on behalf of the lady herself, but on behalf of some of the parties to the cause. Now if they have made use of this lady for the purpose of making a representation on thenbehalf, nothing could be more reprehensible, because it is a direct communication from some parties to the cause to the judge, not through their counsel or legal advisers, but through a witness. Having made that observation, I will now hand the letter to the Solicitor-General and to brother Ballantine. You will see from whom it comes. Be kind enough to ascertain whether it is a letter of the lady from whom it purports to come, and whether parties to the cause authorised her to write it and send it to me. You will also be good enough to say whether it was written with or without the knowledge or sanction of the counsel and lecal advisers on both sides

The letter was here handed to the Solicitor-General and to Mr. Serjeant Ballantine.

After they had read it,

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said: My lord, this letter has been written by a lady of advanced age, and, as far as I am concerned, I can fully excuse her anxiety.

The Chief-Justice: So far as the lady herself is concerned we should all be agreed that the writing of the letter was excusable; but the serious part of the matter lies in the statement that she has been deputed by the parties to the cause to make a representation. If they have done so it is a most improper and reprehensible proceeding, and the statement that is made there throws some light on other proceedings taking place.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: And which have not the excuse of being put forward by a lady.

The Solicitor-General: I would much rather the letter should he read in public.

The Chief-Justice: As far as the lady herself is concerned, I acquit her with the consent of brother Ballantine. I take it for granted that the letter is, as it purports to be, written by Lady Doughty. She is a lady of advanced age, and feels great anxiety respecting this case; but if she had consulted the legal advisers they would have told her that her evidence might be taken at once. There is nothing to be done hut to apply to me for an order to be examined. As I have already said, the most serious part of the letter is that, according to her statement, she has been deputed by the defendants in the cause to write to me, instead of making an application to me in open court and through counsel.

The Solicitor-General, with his lordship's consent and that of Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, then read the letter, which was as follows:—

23, Kensington-square, Kensington, July 1, 1871.

My Lord,—Having learned that you had mentioned in the Court of Common Pleas that no one connected with the " Tichborne and Lushington" case had expressed a wish for it to be continuously heard, I take the liberty of imploring your lordship to take into consideration my advanced age—76 next August—and my failing health, so increased from the intense suffering caused by the cruel charges brought against my now only child. I am also deputed by the guardians of the infant and every member of the Tichborne and Arundell families to pray your lordship not to oppose the efforts we are making for no delay in the hearing of this cause. I remain, your lordship's obedient servant,

(Signed)

KATHERINE DOUGHTY.

P.S.—I trust that your lordship will not consider this communication in any other light than the outpouring of a mother's heart.

The Solicitor-General: I must say that this has reached my ears and knowledge blithe first time. I might almost venture to complain that your lordship should suppose otherwise.

The Chief-Justice: I don't suppose it, but it is neoessary for me to ask the question.

The Solicitor-General: It is obvious that the letter is limited to the question of the postponement.

Serjeant Ballantine: I am rather desirous that my friend should be instructed by his solicitors to say that they knew nothing of it.

Mr. Dobinson (one of the solicitors for the defence): I had no knowledge of Lady Doughty's intention of writing the letter or of its being written. If we possessed that knowledge we should have prevented the letter being written.

The Solicitor-General: The fact is that in this matter there is an immense amount of natural anxiety and feeling involved, and I am afraid from the letter I have read it is supposed that on this particular point counsel have adverse interests from those of the defendants themselves. I trust that won't appear to be so.

The Chief-Justice: It speaks as if influence of a private kind were used in other quarters.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We all met, considered the question of convenience, and came to a certain conclusion, which we communicated to your lordship. Your lordship assented to the application then made, and I confess that it is with extreme astonishment that I hear it stated that the parties to this suit are making efforts in another quarter to do away with the arrangements which their counsel made on their behalf.

The Chief-Justice: I will be no party for breaking through an arrangement applied for by counsel on both sides, and which received my assent and the assent of the jury, If they make an application for the benefit of the parties concerned, I will do my best to carry it into effect.

The absent juryman having made his appearance during the foregoing discussion,

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was then continued: I was asking you on Friday what interview had taken place between more than one member of the family and yourself, and in one of your answers you mentioned that Miss Doughty had given you a white cross or crucifix. Which was it, a cross or crucifix?—A white rosary with crucifix attached.

What was it made of?—The crucifix was silver, but I can't tell you what the rosary was made of.

Have you got it?—Yes.

Here?—No.

Where is it?—At Kensington.

Will you let us see it to-morrow?—I will.

Before I pass to the second interview, tell me what presents you ever received from your cousin beside that? Did she give you anything else?—I don't recollect just now.

Can't you tell me anything else that was ever given you by her?—No; I don't remember.

Is it your impression something else was given to you?—It is.

Can't you tell me what they were?—I got a small diamond ring.

What has become or that?—It was in my portmanteau when I left Rio.

When did she give it you?—About eighteen months before I went away.

Where?—At Tichborne.

Did she give you anything else?—I don't remember.

Was there anything else?—There might have been.

Yes, I know. What I want to know is, was there?—I can't say.

Your relations were intimate. Can't you tell that she gave you anything else besides a diamond ring and a rosary?—No.

What did you ever give her?—I made her a present of several things.

I dare say. What?—It is very hard for me to take my memory back. There was a gold crucifix for one.

When?—Some time in 1851, or the beginning of 1852.

Where?—At Tichborne.

Can you remember anything else you gave her?—No.

On the second visit, on the 12th of March, whom did you find at Mr. Holmes's office when Mrs. Radcliffe came for you?—Mrs. Nangle, Caroline Nangle, and Mrs. Townley.

Did he tell you there had been a mistake about the day of meeting, but that they thought it better to come that day and get it over?—He made arrangements to meet on a certain day at his house, and—

We don't want to go into all that.—Yes, but I do. There is a great deal in " all that." (Laughter.)

Question repeated.—He said there was some mistake.

And did you say, " Very well, but mamma mustn't know"?—Yes.

Did you mention to Mr. Radcliffe that you had known Mr. Talbot Constable well?—Yes.

Did you say you had known him at Burton Constable?—Yes.

Did you tell him you had stayed there six weeks?—Yes. Mr Radcliffe told me he was there, and I said I didn't believe him. I told him if he was there I never saw him, and that it was strange none of the people there knew anything about him.

Were you shown into a room at Mr. Holmes's office on the occasion of the second interview?—Yes.

Mrs. Nangle, your aunt, was sitting at the window, and had her veil down?—She had two or three veils, I think. (Laughter.)

Did Mr. Radcliffe say, " Don't you know that lady?" pointing to Mrs. Nangle?— He said, " Now, sir, who is that lady in that chair?"

Did you look at Mrs. Nangle and say, " Do you know me?"—I did not. Considering that I couldn't see her face, I did'nt know who she was.

Did Mrs. Nangle say, " I don't know you as the person you represent yourself to be?"—No; I told you I couldn't see her face.

Did she take up her veil, walk up to you, and face the light and say, " Now look at me and tell me who I am?"—Certainly not. She never rose from her chair at all.

Did she lift her veil up?—She did, at my request.

And did she say, " Look at me and tell me who I am?"—She did not.

And did you say, " I don' t know," two or three times over?—I said nothing of the kind.

Did you say anything?—I did. I was told by Radcliffe that I was to meet Lady Doughty and my cousin, Catherine Doughty. Instead of that I found a person crouched up in the corner, and, turning to Radcliffe, I said, " How dare you tell me I have come here to see my aunt Doughty?" I got very angry.

Did Miss Nangle also put her veil down, and say, " Look at me, and tell me who Ia am?"—I took no notice of her, I was so much out of temper.

Did you say, " I do not?"—I never spoke to Miss Nangle. If they wanted me to recognise them why did they come thickly veiled? If you ask me if I thought my aunt Nangle was there, I say not, because I thought she would not lend herself to such a purpose.

When she took np her veil, did you then say, " It is my aunt Nangle?"—No; for the best of all reasons. When I found I was imposed upon I didn't look. I looked sufficient to know it wasn't Lady Doughty.

You didn't know it was Mrs. Nangle?—How could I expect she would lend herself to such an imposition?

Did she look like any person yon had seen?—I don't know. It might have been any person else for what I know.

Seeing it wasn't Lady Doughty, did you see who it was?—No.

It was one aunt instead of another?—So it is represented to me.

But you didn't see at the time?—I did not.

Did Mrs. Nangle say to Miss Naugle, " Speak French to him," upon which Miss Nangle commenced to speak French to you?—I don't think so.

Did she say, " Vous parlez frangais, n'est-ce pas?" and did you not say, " Oui, madame?"—No.

Did she then say, " Racontez-moi quelque chose da pays. Eh bien, nons allons parler français comme nous faisons toujours dans les temps passés?" In other words, did she say a longish sentence in French to you?—No.

Did you turn to Radcliffe and say, " This is not in the contract?"—No such word escaped me.

Did you say a word of French to either of them?—No. The whole conversation didn't last a minute and a half. I left the room when I found I was imposed upon. As I was about leaving, I said, " Lucy, you will be sorry for what you have done."

Did she say to you in French, " Tell me some stories of the past?" and did you say, a second time, " This is not in the contract?" and did she say, " Comment! vous ne parlez done pas frangais?"—I was not in the room long enough for the conversation to take place.

Did you go on several times about the contract being broken?—I never mentioned it at all.

Did you speak to Mrs. Townley of her mother as Aunt Annie?—I never mentioned her at all.

Did she ask you if you were certain she had no other sisters besides the four you named, and did she not ask if you never heard of Mrs. Hibbert?—No.

Did she ask you to describe the house at Townley to her?—She did not.

She said, " Of course, you know the county in which it is?" and you said, "Oh, yes; it is near Bath"?—The conversation never passed.

Did you say on the first occasion that Townley was near Bath?—No; I said I had come there from Stonyhurst, and that it was about twelve or fourteen miles.

You didn't say you had come from Bath;—No.

Was there no reference to Mrs. Hibbert?—No.

Then this French conversation by Miss Nangle is an invention?—Yes; there was no such conversation.

Did you begin the conversation with a strong French accent?—I tell you there was no conversation.

I believe Mrs. Townley said she believed you to be an impostor, and she would tell her friends so?—No; she said, " I knew my cousin well, and I don't believe you are he." Radcliffe also said, " I knew Roger Tichborne very well, and I don't believe you to be the man." I told him he was no gentleman, and I think it was a very good job for him that there were ladies in the room.

Do I understand you to say that Mr. Radcliffe told you you were going to seo Lady Doughty and Mrs. Radcliffe?—Yes, I swear it most positively.

On the 29th of March you saw Major Phillips?—I don't know the date.

Had he been in the Carabineers with you?—Yes, he was the riding master.

Were you intimate with him?—Yes.

You knew him very well?—Rather too well.

As he will be here, I should like you to say what you mean. —I mean that he very nearly drilled the life out of me. (Laughter.)

Apart from his drill, was he a man you were intimate with?—Yes.

And on kindly terms?—Yes.

Did you call on him or did he call on you?—I called on him.

How long were you with him?—About five minutes. I waited about twenty minutes for him.

Were there any things in the room you remembered?—I took no notice.

Did you speak to him about any things in the room?—I don't remember; I don't think so.

Did you remind him of anything?—I can't tell the conversation that passed.

Did he say at the end of the conversation, " I am sorry I can't shake hands with you as the Tichborne I once knew?"—He certainly did not. He shook hands with me in the warmest manner possible when I was leaving.

He recognized you as Tichborne?—He never said anything to the contrary, therefore I imagine he did.

Look at that book (produced). You'll find some writing in it. Did vou ever see that book before?—Yes, I did.

What is it?—It is the " Standing Orders."

What is it the ' 'Standing Orders" of?—It is the Standing Orders of officers.

What officers?—The officers of the regiment.

Where did you see it?—It was given to me.

By whom?—Frazer.

Do you mean Major Frazer?—Yes.

What did you do with it?—I am sure I don't know. I possibly left it behind me, or gave it away.

Do you recollect using this a good deal on any particular occasion?—I used it a good deal when I was preparing for my lieutenancy.

Where were you examined?—At Dublin, I think.

Where did you use the book?—At Cahir.

Was it with a view to your examination?—I think not. I read it most about that time.

Can't you say what for?—No.

Soon after the interview with Major Phillips, you were down at Alresford?—Probably.

Did you meet a man named George Page?—Yes.

Had he been Major William Greenwood's groom?—I think so.

Did you remember him?—No.

Is it not a fact that you said your remembered him, but that he did not remember you?—No, I had no interview or conversation with him.

Do you recollect in June, 1867, having some meal at the Grosvenor Hotel with Mr. Bullpit and Mr. Gosford?—There was no meal.

But there was a conversation?—Yes.

Did you know Gosford was coming?—Of course I did. I went there to meet him.

Was there a Mr. White there?—Yes, Charles White.

And Mr. Charles Kingston?—Yes.

Did Mr. Bullpit bring Mr. Gosford into the smoking room where you and Mr. Hingston were?—Yes.

And was there a conversation begun by Mr. Bullpit about your claim?—Yes.

Did Mr. Gosford say, " I don't want it to take place before: I have a number of questions to put to the man himself?"—Not in my hearing.

Did you know that Mr. Gosford and Mr. Bullpit had been talking about your claims?—There would be no doubt about that. We met in order to give them an opportunity of seeing and conversing with me.

Did you mention a good number of things to Gosford?—Yes.

Were they on the same subjects he had talked to you about at Gravesend?—I can't may. What was said was taken down in writing.

Did Mr. Bullpit say to Mr. Gosford, " You remember his upsetting you in the dogcart?"—No; it was Slaughter who was upset.

Who took down what was said?—They all took notes.

Did Gosford say, "I wasn't near the place at all when Roger Charles Tichborne upset Slaughter"?—It wasn't mentioned at all.

Did Mr. Bullpit say to Mr. Gosford, " you asked him at Gravesend about the island; ask him about it now;" and did you say, " I used to keep rabbits on it, and the poachers used to come there, and I used to pursue them in a boat?"—I'm not aware the conversation passed. He wouldn't deny that, would he?

Did he ask you the names of Roger Tichborne's dogs?—I don't think he did.

He asked you the names of the dogs at Gravesend, and were you not unable to say?—I can't tell.

Didn't he ask you at the Grosvenor Hotel, and didn't you say, " Spring and Piecrust?"—Those were two of them.

Did he say I should like to ask you a few things in private?—To the best of my recollection he intimated to Mr. Bullpit that he wished us to be left together. The other gentlemen then went to the other end of the room.

When you were left together, did Gosford say, " If you are Roger Tichborne you cannot have forgotten that before leaving England you left in my hands a certain sealed packet which you had marked 'Private and confidential.' Now, what was it?"— You are surely not going to ask that again?

No; I'm putting to you Mr. Gosford s question.—It was not when we were by ourselves. He asked me to name the contents of the packet, and I declined to do so in the presence of other gentlemen.

Wasn't the form of the question as I have put it?—No; that question was ashed me in the presence of the other gentlemen; and from the time they went to the other end of the room he never asked me any question. He merely asked me about my life in Australia. Mr. Bullpit came back and asked him if he had put any questions to me, and he said, " No; we have been talking about local matters."

I'm putting this to you as having happened when you were alone.—Yes, but it didn't happen.

Did you say " I can't remember," and did he say " It was to the effect that it you married a certain person you would carry out certain arrangements at Tichborne. Now, can you tell me?"—He never mentioned anything of the kind. The question was asked me in the presence of the other gentlemen, and it is very fortunate that it was so, and that they took a note of it. I said, " You know very well, Gosford, that I wouldn't mention the nature of the document in the presence of others."

Question repeated.—He did not.

Did you say you could not recollect it, and did he press you several times to tell him the contents of it, and did you still say you could not recollect anything connected with it?—I did not. My answer was, " You know very well I would not tell you the contents of that in the presence of others." He was then asked by Mr Bullpit whether the document was in existence, and he said it was at his lodgings. At the Law Association he swore he never said so.

I am putting it to you whether, in the absence of the others, he pressed you about the document, and hinted what was the subject of it, and that you were still unable to mention it?—I say it is not so. I never denied any knowledge of the contents, but I refused to mention them.

Did you talk about other things?—We talked about Australia.

Did he say anything to the effect that if you and he went to some part of the room where they could not hear you, you might tell him?—No; he went towards the fireplace, and said, " I think it is very foolish of the other side to be paying these lawyers." I said, " I can't help it. I have eone into it, and I must go through it."

Whatever passed on the subject of the sealed packet passed in their presence?—Yes. Although they went away for the express purpose of leaving you alone?—Yes. We spoke about my life in Australia, and when Bullpit asked him if he put questions to me, he said not.

Well, now I'll give my version. When they came back did Mr. Bullpit say, " Ask him about something you both formerly knew?"—That is what he said.

Did he say, " I have just asked him the nature of the document which Roger Tichborne left in my hands?"—He asked me the question before Bullpit.

Did Mr. Bullpit say to Mr. Gostord, " Is it in your hands now?" Did Mr. Gosford say, " No matter where it is, can he tell me what is in it?" And did Mr. Bullpit turn to you and say, " Come, that is a straightforward question?"—He asked, in the presence of Mr. Hingston and the other gentlemen, if I remembered a packet that I had left with him. I said I did. He asked me where I wrote it, and I said, " In his parlour, at Cheriton." He asked me what I did with it after I had written it. I told him I read it over to him, sealed it in his presence, marked it " Private and confidential," and put it into his hands. He was also asked by Mr. Bullpit if he thought any one could have told me that, and he said he thought not. I told him there and then that the contents of the document I should be sorry to mention in the presence of anybody.

Did Mr. Gosford say, " If I had expected to meet you here I'd have brought a handful of letters with me?" Did Mr. Bullpit say, " Have you got letters, then?" and did he say, " Yes, I have written letters up to within three weeks of Roger going on board the Bella?"—What made him swear at the Law Institution that he had no such letter?

Don't mind what he swore at the Law Institution.—I do mind it. Do I do wrong in quoting to corroborate my own statement? It's false. Bullpit asked him no such question in my hearing, and if he did I must have heard it.

Do you know he had letters?—Of course I do. How could 1 dispute it?

The Solicitor-General here read part of Mr. Gosford's examination at the Law Association, in which he stated that he had a large number of Roger Tichborne's letters in his possession, and that after the wreck of the Bella he had destroyed the sealed packet, with many other papers.

Did he ask you why you hadn't gone to see Lady Doughty?—I don't remember. He promised to get an interview with her for me.

Did you ask him?—Yes, and so did Mr. Bullpit.

Was that the last time you had any conversation with him?—It was. He promised to call at my house next day, but he did not. He appeared to be convinced of my identity when he left, but unfortunately he went into Cullington's office.

You went to Alresford after that?—Yes.

Did you receive a letter from Captain Polhill Turner asking you to go and see him?—I don't remember any letter from him.

That letter (produced) is in your handwriting?—Yes.

Here it is:—

2, Wellesley-villas, Wellesley-road, Crowdon, July 9, '67.

Dear Polhill,—I have much pleasure in accepting your kind invitation for Wednesday next. Thanks for your letter. You will find me much stouter than I was in the Carabineers.—Yours faithfully,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

You had forgotten Capt. Polhill Turner's letter?—Yes.

Did you send him a telegram on the 10th of July?—I have no recollection.

This is the telegram:—

I am suddenly obliged to go into Hampshire this morning to see most important witnesses who are going away. Excuse, therefore, for not being with you to-day as arranged. I will write to you by this post.

You don't remember sending him that?—No.

This is the letter you wrote on the same day:—

2, Wellesley-villas, Wellesley-road, Croydon, 10th July, '67.

Dear Polhill,—I intended doing myself the pleasure of calling on you to-day, but my solicitor found it necessary I should start for Hampshire to see some friends who were about taking a journey, and it is very important to my case that I should see them. I hope it will not be long before Tich and yourself meet.—Yours truly,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

And you have no doubt you sent the telegram?—None whatever.

Who were the witnesses you were going to see?—Considering I have no recollection of she letter, I can't say. I am very glad you didn't ask me to swear if I had sent a letter.

Did you go down to Hampshire?—There is no doubt I did.

Did you not go down to him?—No.

Is that letter (produced) in your handwriting?—Yes.

10th July, 1867.

My dear Mamma,—I saw Mr. Holmes lias soon as I got back from the station. I told him I did not intend to go to lunch with Polhill, at Bedford. I told him what I thought, and he was quite satified. He had received a letter from Alresford saying Mr. and Mrs. Marks were about leaving for Spithead, and wished to see me again, as it was necessary before signing the affidavits; so I start by the 11.40 train from Waterloo. I shall only be away a few days. I am going to write to Mr. Scott and the two Miss Onslows, as I wish to get their affidavit before I come back. I told you I would not go to Bedford, and I am not going to. I hope, my dear mamma, you will write and let me know what is going on. I will call on Mr. Norris. Agnes, Roger Joseph, and Mary are quite well, and joins me in love to you, my dear mamma. I hope Joseph comes before I start, but I write this in case not. God bless you my dear mamma. Mr. Leith called before bed-time, and stayed a few minutes. He wished to be remembered to you.—Your very affectionate son.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

You observe that in the letter referring to Captain Polhill Turner you say, " I told you I would not go to Bedford, and I'm not a going to." Perhaps you would like to explain?—My mother had an objection to my going.

What was it?—I don't know, I am sure. I have some idea she had an objection.

Did she communicate that objection to you before you wrote to Captain Polhill Turner?—Not before.

Why did you say you had much pleasure in accepting his invitation?—There is no doubt I had when I wrote.

But there is only one day difference. You wrote to him on the 9th, and to your mother on the 10th, saying you wouldn't go. Would you like to explain?—It appears to me to be a rather difficult matter to explain. (Laughter.) There is no doubt I had some reason at the time.

Captain Polhill Turner had been the captain of your troop?—Yes.

Do you recollect ever paying a visit, or more than one visit, with him when you were at Waterford?—I don't remember whether I went to the Barrons with him. He went away almost as soon as I got there.

Who are the Barrons?—He married one of them.

Who was she?—Mr. Barron's daughter, of course.

Who was Mr. Barron?—A private gentleman living in Waterford.

Whereabouts? Was it near the cathedral?—I can't say; it was some distance from the cathedral.

Do you recollect doing sporting with Captain Turner when you were at Waterford?—I can't say.

Do you remember a bridge there?—There are several bridges there.

Any particular kind of bridge?—Stone bridges to the best of my recollection.

Is that (letter produced) your handwriting?—Yes.

Swan Hotel, Alresford, 10th July, '67.

My dear Mamma,—I just send you a few lines to say that I arrive quite safe to-day. I have spent the afternoon with Mr. and Mrs. Marks, and they are quite willing to make an affidavit now. I am going to dine with Mr. Hopkins. Mr. Scott invited me to lunch to-morrow. I will write to you every day, my dear mamma, until I return. I am so glad I did not go to see that officer today.

That is Captain Polhill Turner, I suppose?—I suppose it is. I daresay the letter explains.

(Continues):—

I was very glad when Mr. Holmes was agreeable for me to start for Hampshire, because I know I am amongst friends here. I told Mary to send your letters on to me. They were quite well when I left Brighton. I hope, my dear mamma, you will send me a few lines every day to let me know how you are. God bless you, mamma dear.—From your afft. son.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Had you any preparation for the examination before Mr Roupell?—I never prepared for it.

Did you say you would never stand another examination like that for worlds?—Certainly not.

And that you must have had a strong constitution to go through it? (Laughter.)—I think you are asking me that question to insult me.

No, I am not. Did you say you would rather be back in Australia, in the bush?— I never said anything of the kind.

Did you ever say it to Rosina M'Arthur?—Certainly not; nothing of the kind.

About the time of the examination before Mr. Roupell, do you recollect any anxiety being shown by Lady Tichborne about any letters which you wrote to her before you went on board the Bella?—Not only some of the letters written by me to her, but letters written by my father to her—in one of which, being angry, he stated she was mad—were publicly exhibited in the market-place at Winchester. It got to her ears and mine, and that is how the inquiry was made.

How do you know they were exhibited there?—My friends said they read them.

Who were the friends!—Mr. Stubbs and Mr. Hall. These were the letters taken out of her box. Gosford says he knows nothing about it, and yet he gave them authority to open the box.

Was Lady Tichborne anxious about some letters of Roger to her?—Yes; she wanted to find the letters I had written to her.

Did she come up to London from Brighton for the purpose of finding them if she could?—She went from Brighton to London, and from London to Winchester, and when she got there she found her box broken up and the contents taken away.

Were the letters written to her by you as a youth in your possession at Croydon?— In my possession!

That is my question.—Certainly not.

Do you recollect at any time speaking about these letters to Rosina M'Arthur?—I never said any such thing.

Did your wife in your presence?—Certainly not. How could that be? You have got them, and they have never been out of your possession.

We shall see.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You have read them?

The Solicitor-Genoral: One or two. (To the claimant.) After the examination before Mr. Roupell did you go to Alresford?—Very probably.

Did you carry copies of the affidavits with you?—Certainly not.

Did Carter, Bogle, M'Cann, Baigent, or any of the persons with you take copies of the affidavits?—Certainly not with my authority. No servant of mine took them.

I mean that copies of the affidavits were not part of your regular luggage?—Certainly not.

Was it in September that you entered into negotiations for taking the place in Hampshire?—You mean Itchin Abbess?

Yes.—I can't say the date.

Did you go there?—No.

Why not?—Because my mother didn't wish it.

I suppose you knew Itchin Abbess before you left England?—I knew the town of Itchen Stoke.

Did you know Itchin Abbess?—I can't say; it is only a little bit of a cottage.

The Court being about to adjourn for luncheon,

The Chief-Justice, addressing the Solicitor-General and Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, asked: Have you any idea as to the probable length of the examination?

The Solicitor-General: I should hope to finish by Thursday, my lord.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I shall be perfectly prepared to re-examine the moment my learned friend sits down.

The Chief-Justice: The reason I am anxious to know is this. There is a serious calendar at the Old Bailey, and I must make arrangements for it. I am not desirous of casting my duties on other judges. They would be quite willing to undertake my work, if necessary; but, of course, I do not wish that they should do so. I want to make some arrangement beforehand, so that the public business shall not suffer.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: If my learned friend concludes about Thursday, I have no doubt the jury would sit a portion of Saturday, and, if so, we could perhaps finish the re-examination.

The Foreman: The jury have engagements for Saturday, but they will be happy to waive them, if necessary. They would ask counsel, at the same time, to conclude the examination on Friday, if possible.

The Chief-Justice: I have another letter to hand to counsel. I don't know whether I I should not be allowed to exercise some discretion with regard to these letters. Some of them are evidently written by persons who are not right in their minds. (Laughter.)

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the re assembling of the court, the cross-examination of the claimant was further proceeded with.

The Solicitor-General asked for a little indulgence. He wished that his lordship would direct that the court should rise earlier than usual, in order that he (the Solicitor-General) might be present in the House of Commons when a question relating to the trial was asked by an hon. member. He was the only member of Parliament amongst the counsel on either side, and he wished to be present in order that some explanation might be given. He understood that Mr. Serjeant Ballantine had no objection whatever.

The Chief-Justice: I have no desire, under the circumstances, to keep the court open longer than you wish. You have my authority for stating that, owing to the strain which this trial has put upon me, I have found it almost impossible to sit here up to the present period.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

Swan Hotel, Alresford, Hants.

My dear Mama—I only received your kind letter on Saturday. I am staying down here shooting with Mr. Bulpett. I hope, my dear mama, you will not stay in Paris. The water is so bad, and will make you bad and ill. I have been here since Wednesday. I have been out shooting every day since. I find it do me a great deal of good. I was never better in my health in my life. I received a letter from Mary this morning. She quite well, as also the children. My dear mamma, I think it would be as well if I took a house down here. Inching Abeys is to let, and I think it would suit me so much better than Croydon. I find I could live for half the money here. The rent is only 3 per week, and everything is so cheap here to what it is at Croydon, and Inching Abeys is so secluded—no neighbours to annoy us. But I will wait, my dear mamma, and take your advice on the subject. Croydon is a very dear place, and takes every shilling from me, were I ought to live on half the money you so kindly allow me. Mr. Haping is agoing to try and raise some money for me. I have been to dine with him, and we have talked the matters over. I hope, my dear mamma, you have arrived quite safe, and I also hope, my dear mamma, it will not be long before I shall have the proud pleasure of seeing you again. If you do not like to come to England. I will come over and see you for a few days. I forget to mention I received the cheque. Many thanks, my dear mamma. I have sent, it away for to pay the Bills, as I am a week behind with them. My friends here are still very kind to me. Everyone almost places their shooting at my disposal, or rather convenience. I hope, my dear mama, soon to have another letter from you, as it was very near a week between the two letters. Mr. and Mrs. Rous begs to be kindly remembered to you, as also Col. Lushington and several of his friends. I am going to call on Mr. Pratt to-morrow. I have got my horse here with me. But I find it very difficult to ride on account of being so stout. Now, my dear mama, all I have to say is God bless you, and I hope Our Holy Mother will take care of you. —No more at present from your affectionate son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Who is Mr. Haping?—I don't know such a person. It must mean Mr. Hopkins.

Well, I can't make Hopkins of it. There is certainly a " w" or a " g" at the end of it.—I know no Mr. Haping. It is meant for Mr. Hopkins, no doubt. I frequently think of one thing and write another.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

Swan Hotel, Alresford, Sept. 24, '67.

My dear Mama—I have just received your kind letter. I think, my dear mama, you will find several letters at Abbé Sales's waiting for you. I mentioned in one of my letters that I was about to take Inchin Abbas, and have now taken it, as I have find it makes a great difference in my expenses. I can live very comfortable on ten pounds a week, and it will serve my cause a good deal, as all the gentry will call on me. I hope, my dear mamma, you will not be angry with me for not waiting for your advice. I think it would lie better to take it at once, as other persons were after it. We intend leaving Croydon about Tuesday. I would like you, my dear mama, to send me 30 pound, and deduct it from the next week, so that I can pay the tradesmans before I leave: but I don't wish you, my dear mama, to distress yourself. I may be able to borrow ten pound from Mr. Bloxam. Bloxam is at Newmarket races, but he will be home on Friday. I hope, my dear mama, you will not drink any water in Paris—it will be sure to make you bad. I have my horse down here, and drive round and see all my friends. I have called to-day on Mr. Brame and Mr. Onslow, who received me very kindly. I have had several day's shooting with Mr. Bulpett, and I think it as done me a great deal of good. I certainly was never better in my life; besides, the exercise is making me a great deal thiner. I can now walk eight or ten miles without difficulty. I have been over Inchin Abbas to-day, my dear mama. It is a beautiful place. I hope, my dear mama, you will come and stay a few days with, me when you come to England Do not stay long, my dear mama, in Paris, for I know, my dear mama, you will be ill if you do. Please remember me to Abbé Sales and Mr. Savage, if you should see him. Hoping, my dear mama, you will write me as soon as possiable. The children are quite well today. Carter has just come from London. We are all quite well at Croydon. Now, my dear mama, excuse me. God bless you, I hope you will shortly come over. Good bye, my dear mama, for the present.—Your affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

To this Lady Tichborne replied from Paris as follows:—

26 Sept., 1867.

My dearest Roger,—I am very sorry I did not hear from you this morning. I expected to have a letter from you. I am quite unhappy about it. I hope you have received my letter with the cheque for £15. I wish you to come over to me, and that was meant for your travelling expenses; but now I think you had better not come, as I mean to return to England at the beginning of next week, and it closes next Monday—at least, they say so. I regret my having taken the apartments for a fortnight, as the air does not agree with me at all, it is so sharp and keen. The Champs Elisees are full of English, who take the open bracing air, but it does not suit me at all. The Rue Montaigne is in the Champs Elysees, or open into it, therefore I think yon had better not come this year, as I will join you almost immediately; but do not take a house in Hampshire, my dearest Roger, as we should be at so great distance one from the other; you know that I am your best friend, and I think it is better that I should be near you. Your house has nothing to do with what you receive every week time. I pay it besides the £20; therefore your house has nothing to do with the £20. All what is glittering is not gold, my dear Roger; and you must not believe that all those protestations of friendship are true, since nobody will lend you money. I hear many things here coming straight from England; and you would think as I do, that if we are not on good terms your enemies will take advantage of it. I have just seen your letter, dated the 24th. I am very sorry to find that you have taken Itchins house so far from me, and it is a great pity you value Mr. Hopkins' society more than mine; and I feel very much that, notwithstanding all that I do for you, that you have taken that house away from me. I believe, however, that Mr. Hopkins is not your friend so much as some, as he refused to assist you with money when they asked him to lend you some; and I do not think that Mr. Bulpett is so much your friend as I have always been to you. I beg you to break it off, and not to take Itchin by all means. I cannot think how you can hurt me to that degree. It is a cruel thing to me to consider that I have given you so'many proofs of my affection and that you prefer Mr. Hopkins and M r. Bulpett's society to mine. I wish you to break it off immediately, and not to go and live at Itchin if you wish to show yourself ungrateful to me; it will also have a very bad effect in the world your being on bad terms with me; as I cannot help feeling very much the preference you give to your friends over me, and I have always been your best friend. I am about the only one now, or at least I am the dearest; but I beg of you to break it off at any price, and to give up the thought of going to live at Itchin, if you care for me, which is, I am afraid, of very little consequence to you; and if there is another person about it you must let that person have it, and you have only to tell Mr. Hopkins, your friend, to arrange it for you, or to Mr. Holmes; but I should think Mr. Hopkins, being on the spot, is more likely to do it for you, as you must not live at Itchin at any price. When the last word between you and I is repeated, it will go over to your adversaries; and when they know that we disagree, of course they will be very glad. I am going back to London immediately, and cannot send you the £30 you ask me. I have sent you £15 yesterday, and I am going to send you the £20 to pay your weekly bills. I cannot do more. Remember to let that other person have Itchin who wishes to have it. and to give up the thought of living at Itchim, away from your only sincere friend,

H. F. TICHBORNE.

Your adversaries will take it as a proof against your identity your deserting my society and preferring your Alresford friends, but you must get rid of Itchin at any price.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

No. 2, Wellesley-villas, Croydon, Sept. 27, 1867.

My dear Mama,—I received your kind letter this morning, and I was very sorry, my dear mama, that I did not wait for your advice about the house in Hampshire. But you must have received a letter from me since you posted the letter I have received, in which J mentioned that I had taken Inchin Abbas. I am very sorry, my dear mama, to have done anything that you do not approve of, but you see, my dear mama, I had done it before I had received your kind letter. I am also sorry I cannot come over to Paris. I shall not go to Inchin Abbas until I hear from you again. I feel very much annoyed, my dear mama, to think I have done anything contrary to your wishes, but as it is done now I cannot brake my word. I would be the talk of Hampshire if I were not to go and live there now. I shall feel very miserable until I hear from you again, for God knows, my dear mama, I would not do anything to offend you if I knew it. I hope, my dear mama, soon to see you again. If I was not to be here, my dear mama, when removing I should lose half the little things I have. I wish, my dear mama, you had let me know about going to Paris before, as I should have arranged things accordingly. Bogle has been very ill, but is now getting better. You don't know, my dear mama, how miserable I feel through not being able to please you. I received the cheque you sent over on Monday. I think, my dear mama, I can find an office that will advance 5,000. It will be through Mr. Hopkins, and is the same office that he rose the 37 thousand pounds from. Mary and the children are quite well. Dear little Agnes inquires after you, and Roger Joseph is growing a fine boy. As it is now post time, dear mama, I must say God bless you and good bye.—Your affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

You knew Itchin Abbas all your life. It was not far from Tichborne, you know.—Who said it was?

How came you to spell the name wrongly?—I can't tell. I don't find so many " dear mamas" in this letter as you state there is.

Well, I will tell you there are fifteen. Did you go to live at Itchin Abbas?—No.

Did you shortly after that see Major Campbell?—I saw him, but I don't know whether it was about that time or not.

Where?—At Croydon.

Was he in the Carabineers with you?—Yes.

The whole time?—Yes, very nearly.

Was he an intimate friend of yours?—Yes, he was.

Was he a good Frenchman?—No, not a very good one.

In what language had he used to speak when in the regiment?—In English.

What was he fond of?—How do I know.

Well, but could he speak French?—I don't know that he could.

Did he address you in French when he came to see you?—No.

Did you, in reply to one of his observations, say " oui," and he replied, " You have made a bad shot there?"—No, certainly not. No allusion whatever was made to the French language, and fortunately for me there were persons present during the whole time.

How long did the interview last?—About half an hour.

Did he talk to you about the regiment?—Yes.

What did he say?—I can't recollect that. It is nearly four years ago.

Did he identify you? Did he say you were yourself?—I can't say; I believe he told my attorney something.

Do you know to what conclusion he came?—I believe he said that he would not swear one way or the other; that he was going to India, and did not want to be subpœnaed on the trial.

Is this Major Campbell's handwriting?—I can't say. I have had letters from him.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Have you any knowledge of his handwriting?—No, none whatever. I have no recollection of it at all.

The Solicitor-General: Were you not in the habit of seeing letters that he wrote when in the regiment?—Yes, and I wrote letters for him.

Do you believe that to be his handwriting?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to the question. The claimant had said that he had no recollection of Major Campbell's writing whatever.

The Solicitor-General: Can you tell me whether you believe that letter to be in his handwriting?—I have no belief in the matter. I have no recollection of his handwriting whatever.

Don't you know that instead of Major Campbell saying he could not come to any conclusion, he in reality said that he had no doubt you and Roger Tichborne were different persons?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected to the learned gentleman reading from an affidavit.

The Solicitor-General denied reading from any document of the kind; he was merely reading from a piece of paper.

The Solicitor-General (to the claimant): Did he deny that you were the man?—I should say not. He shook hands with me, and left me in the most friendly manner possible.

But he is a witness against you?—I should say not. He is in India now.

Did you also have an interview with Major Foster?—Yes; he was captain when I joined. I was gazetted to the F, and attached to A and C troops.

Were you intimate with him?—Yes.

Do you recollect anything as between you and him when you were in the regiment?— Do you mean practical jokes, or what?

Anything you remember in which he and you were mixed up together, either on duty or off it.—No, I remember nothing particular.

Can you tell me any practical joke that was played upon you?—Well, he never ceased to play them.

Was he concerned in any particular joke?—Well, he was concerned m a good many.

Can you remember any particular one?—I can't carry my memory back to these things now.

Did he ask you to call upon him?—Yes.

Did you meet him at Fenton's Hotel?—Yes.

Was it before breakfast?—Not before mine, certainly; it might have been before his. (Laughter.) I had driven from Lewisbam that morning.

What did he say when you say him?—There were some gentlemen in the room, and the moment I went in he said, " You are not Tichborne." I replied, " Very well, if I am not I had better retire." I thought he was joking.

Did he not say, " You are two or three inches taller; you are not Tichborne?"—No, when he said I was not Tichborne, I told him I had better retire.

How tall are you?—Well, I was measured some months ago, and then I was 5 ft. 9¼ or 9½ inches.

Did you also have an interview with Major Fraser?—Yes.

What was he when you first knew him?—He was Quartermaster.

When did you first see him after you came home?—Really I can't tell when it was.

Was it in 1867?—I think so, but I am not positive about it.

Did he attend before Mr. Roupell?—Yes.

Did you speak to him?—No, I did not.

And did you see Captain Turner there, too?—Yes.

Did you speak to him?—No.

Why not?—Because Mr. Bowker took good care to shut the door of the room as I passed backwards and forwards.

Had you no opportunity then of speaking to him?—No, I had not.

Did you not pass them in the street without recognising them in any way?—Well, I recognised them, but my mother desired me not to speak, so I passed on into the carriage at once.

Have you seen Captain Polhill Turner and Mr. Fraser here during the trial?—Yes.

Did Captain Turner ask you if you knew him?—Yes, and I said you are Captain Polhill Turner.

Major Fraser was the man who drilled you?—Yes.

Is this letter in your handwriting?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

Victoria Hotel, Yarmouth, Jan. 30, 1868.

Dear Fraser,—As I was at Colchester I thought I would run down this far to see you. I have sent my friend, Mr. Rous, with the note, so that you can say if you have any objection to come and see me and have an hour's conversation, and judge for yourself whether I am myself or not; my Friend will show you Sherston's affidavit. And you will see by that That he did not know me at first till he conversed with me a little while. Hoping that I shall have the pleasure of seeing you before I start, I remain, dear Fraser, truly yours,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

The Claimant: Don't you think that is a proper letter?

The Solicitor-General: I suppose you had Rous with you?—Yes. I wished Fraser to see me personally.

Did Captain Fraser say he could not recognise you as Sir Roger, but that he did not mind shaking hands with you to remind him of his old friend?—He certainly observed that he thought I was stouter, and at the end of the conversation he said he could not see sufficient in me to enable him to swear to my identity.

What made you write to him?—I was taking a tour round, and wished him to see me. Mr. Baigent and Mr. Rous were both present.

Did he say that if you could remember one thing that began at the mess and ended in his own room he would try and believe you were Roger Tichborne, and would sign an affidavit in your favour?—He said nothing about " try and believe" at all; those are words of your own. He asked me if I could recollect several things, and I told him all that I knew. There was one thine certainlv I could not. recollect

The Solicitor-General: Is this letter in your handwriting?—Yes.

Then I will read it. The letter was as follows:—

Levers Arms Hotel, Bolton, Feb. 2nd. 1868.

Dear Eraser,—I have been thinking ever since to try and find or bring to my memory about what we were speaking. Do you mean the time I gave you a silver snuff-box. If so, I remember that very well. I should like to hear from you if it is so. I haze seen Mather the trumpeter, and also Berry, Col. Hay servant. They are both at Leeds. Mather, I have no doubt, he was as much a Frenchman then as I was; but he now speaks English very well. They have both made very strong affidavids for me. Hoping, dear Fraser, I shall have the pleasure of receiving a fine trom you, I remain, truly yours,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Did you give Fraser a silver snuff-box?—Yes. To the best of my recollection I handed it to him to take a pinch of snuff, when he put it in his pocket, and then I told him to keep it. It was a box that was pretty old. I bought it in England to the best of my recollection, but I cannot tell you -where. It was somewhere, I think, in Piccadilly.

Has Mather forgotten his French?—No; because he has been an interpreter almost ever since.

Do you recollect whether the snuff-box had the Tichborne crest or your initials upon it?—I think it had my initials on.

Not the Tichborne motto under it?—No.

What is the Tichborne motto?—" Pugna pro patria." It means, " I fight for my country; " but it strikes me now I have to fight for myself. (Laughter.)

Did you show your bank-book to Captain Fraser?—No, I did not carry my passbook with me.

Did you show him your cheques?—No.

Did you say you had sent £1,700 to Melbourne to prosecute the proprietors of a newspaper for libel?—Well, I don't think you would see cheques for that sum.

Was it in your cheque-book?—You don't suppose I should show that to him. I never said anything about prosecuting a paper in Melbourne.

Did you not say that you had heard that Mr. Bowker had offered one of your servants £1,000 to get rid of you?—Well, I heard that one of his agents had offered my servant £1,000 to put me out of the way. I will swear it is so. I have said it before, and I say so now.

The Chief-Justice: Were you present when any such conversation took place?—No, but we have the correspondence.

The Chief-Justice reminded the jury that they must not take the answer of the claimant as evidence unless there was some entry of it.

The Solicitor-General: Which of the servants was it?—M'Cann.

Shortly alter that, did you have an interview with your cousin, Major Nangle?—Yes.

Did he come to Croydon to see you?—He did.

Was the conversation a lengthy one?—I think so; he lunched with me.

Did you tell him a good deal about the Bella and the shipwreck?—I don't think I said anything about them.

Did you say you could not give as good an account of the wreck as you might have done, because you were drunk all the time you were on board?—No, but it was so.

Did you say you could produce two of the men of the Bella?—I don't remember; but the probability is that I did.

Have you found Arthur Orton since we last met?—No.

Did you say that if you had known you would have to undergo all the trouble and bother you have you would not have come over from Australia?—I don't remember, but the probability is that I did.

Can you deny that, upon coming to some allusions to Paris and France, you began to talk broken English to him?—Now, what makes you say that?

Did you see him only once?—I think so.

Did he ask you where you last saw his brother, George Nangle?—No.

Did you not say Canterbury?—No.

Did you tell him you had heard at the same time of the death of Sir James Tichborne and Sir Alfred, and that had determined you to come to England?—No.

Did you tell him that Lady Tichborne had written to his brother Henry, but could not send the letter because she did not know his address?—No; I have no recollection of it. I know my mother met Mr. Henry Nangle at the Charing-croes Station a day or two afterwards.

Was it Major Henry Nangle who called upon you?—Yes, it was Henry.

Did you talk to him at all about Paris or Bath?—Really, I can t say. It is impossible for me to remember the whole of the conversation, To the best of my recollection, we talked mostly about my adventures abroad.

Did you know much of the Major when you were in Paris and Bath?—.No, not very much.

How long did the conversation last?—About an hour, I should say.

Was that the last time you saw him?—Yes.

Did you see Captain Lichfield?—I can't remember.

Did you know the Captain?— I might have met him in Ireland. I have a slight recollection of the name.

Did he ever call upon you?—No.

Is the name Lichfield (handing up a folded letter of the claimant's for his inspection)?—No; it is not Lichfield. That's not an " L."

What is the name?—I can't tell. The person I mean died at Stonyhurst.

My dear Mama—I have only just returned here, or I should not have keep Joseph waiting so long. I have been with Mary to the Palace. I had an idea when I was agoing to dine with the gentlemen at the club, but Mary made me alter my mind and go to the Palace with her and the chilldren, so I don't go to London to-day at all. I expect to be in London to-morrow if I feel well, and I will call on you. I have no idea, my dear mama, any more than you have, but I am getting tired of Croydon. I want to see Mr. Bulpett if I can, but I don't know if he will be in London or not. Mary is delighted with the bird, my dear mama; it sings beautiful. It was singing when I came away. You have wrote me a very short note, my dear mama. I hope you will send me a longer one to-morrow. My dear mama, I am quite well now, only Dr. Sutherland says I must get out into the open air more than I do, but I have been so pestered with people calling that I have not been able to get out before. Captain Litchfield called yesterday, but I had been forewarned that they intended to play a trick upon me, so of course I would not see him. He swore afful because. I woud not see him. He had one or two more waiting outside, one of whom I think was Bowker, but I have not seen them to-day. God bless you, my dear mama. Mary joines me in love and thanks for the birds. Agnes and Roger are quite well and hope soon to see you again.—Your affectionate son,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

The Chief-Justice: What is the initial letter of the name?—I can't say whether it is a " T" or an " L."

The Chief-Justice: I thought it was an " F?"

The Claimant: I can't remember the name just at this moment. It is at my tongue's end, however.

Was he an officer in the array along with you?—No, he was a naval officer. He was the same party who was there when Mr. Well came to see me, and who took Mr. Well back to London again before I had an opportunity of seeing him.

Was he an old friend of yours?—No; I knew him in my early days.

Who had forewarned you?—I can't say now.

Can you recollect why you did not see him—what trick was to be played upon you?—I had heard from my attorney that they were coming down to play some trick upon me. It was, I supposed, to be one like the many that were played upon me at the time.

Now, was not the name Strickland?—No; I don't recollect. It was the name I was trying to think of. I know that he was a naval captain.

Did he swear like a trooper or a naval captain?—Well, he swore somewhat as a sailor would. (Laughter.)

Then he might be Strickland, after all, for what yon know?—No, I don't think there was anything " strict" about him. When he called to see me he was refused, owing to the doctor's orders, and certainly he did swear about it. He afterwards went to the town and propagated all kinds of tales. I have heard that he died at Stonyhurst.

The Chief-Justice: The time for adjourning the Court has now arrived, and I wish to say before you leave that if there are any witnesses who are aged and infirm they can be examined before the Court rises—this or next week.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We shall consent to any arrangement that may fce made in that respect, my lord. I can now hand in the original letter of Lady Tichborne, which has been already referred to.

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY.—TUESDAY, JULY 4.

THIRTY-SIXTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was continued: Was the present General Jones in the Carabineers when you were there?—Yes.

Was he a great friend of yours?—Yes.

Have you seen him since your return?—I have.

Where?—At the Law Institution.

You have had no private interview with him?—No.

Did you attempt to have any conversation with him at the Law Institution?—No.

Has he recognised you?—He has not, I believe.

Was Greneral Jones more than usually kind to you?—I don't know that he did more for me than anybody else.

Did you know Mr. Bickerstaff?—Yes.

What was he?—The adjutant.

All the time?—No; I delivered over to him his first troop.

Was he intimate with you?—I knew him very well.

Have you seen him?—No.

Have you tried to see him?—Yes, I went to Preston to see him. His brother sent word that he was blind, and of course there was no use in going to see him where he was, in Wales.

Was Bickerstaff at Canterbury when the bleeding took place?—I was insensible, and I don't know whether he was there.

Whom did you find when you came to yourself?—My impression is there was nobody present but M'Cann, my servant.

The operation had been over some time, and you began to recover?—Yes.

Do you remember Capt. Rennie?—There was no such captain in the Carabineers.

Were you ever quartered near him?—I recollect the name; but I don't think he was a captain.

Do you recollect a Mr. Rennie?—I recollect the name, but not the person. If it is the person I mean I think he was in the artillery.

Where did you know him?—In Clonmel, I believe

Do you know him very well?—I can't, say.

Was Captain Rennie present at your interview with Major Frazer?—I can't say; there was another gentleman present, but I didn't notice him.

Nothing passed between you?—No.

Did you know Mr. Bott?—Yes.

He was in the Carabineers?—Yes.

Was he there when you first came?—He came afterwards.

Was he below you in rank?—Yes, he was my junior.

Was he a friend of yours?—Yes.

Do you remember anything particular passing between you and him? Did he do anything to you, or did you do anything to him?—There was a great many things passed.

Can't you tell me any particular thing?—Well, he played practical jokes

You all did that, as you told us yesterday.—If I did it was a mistake. There were gentlemen there who did not play jokes.

Don't you recollect anything about Bott—something out of the common way?—There were many things.

Tell me one.—I should like to know what you are driving at. (Laughter)

I know you would.—I don't wish you to tell me; but I want to know the description or thing you wish me to answer.

Well, then, you don't know anything particular about Bott?—No.

Nor about Captain Polhill Turner?—No.

Was Bott at Canterbury?—Yes.

Where were your rooms at the barracks?—At the right hand side—next Frazer's.

Did they look out on the street?—No.

How far were they from the mess-room?—About twenty yards.

Did you have anything done to your rooms while you were there?—Done to my rooms?

Yes, that is my question.—I think not.

Did you write and ask Mr. Bott to come and see you?—I believe I did.

Did he come?—Yes.

Did he come on your invitation or self-invited?—I can't say. I have some recollection that he came on my invitation.

Did you fix a day for him to come?—I don't think I did.

Did you expect him to come?—No, that is what makes me say I didn't appoint a day.

Here is a letter dated the 5th of April, 1867, which says, " Will you see them (Mr. M'Evoy and Mr. Campbell), and arrange a day for me, as my time is unoccupied?" Did he write you a letter in answer to that?—I don't think he did.

Did he and Major Betty call?—Yes.

Major Betty had also been in the Carabineers?—Yes.

Was Mr. Holmes there?—He was.

Did you know they were coming?—I don't think I knew they were coming that day.

How came Mr. Holmes to be there?—How came he to be there?

Yes. These were your old brother officers. Did you ask your attorney to be present?—I should think not. I was informed at the time that Major Betty said he was Major Bott, and that Major Bott said he was Major Betty.

Who told you that?—My butler.

What was his name?—I forget; but he had lived where Major Betty was. I then asked my attorney to see them. I was ill in bed at the time.

Had Captain M'Evoy been down at that time?—I can't say.

Was the dowager Lady Tichborne in the house?—I'm not sure. I Should think not

Had your bedroom and the other rooms folding doors between?—The folding doors were between the two drawing-rooms.

Were those doors usually shut?—They were.

Do I understand you to say that Mr. Holmes had gone down inconsequence of your servant stating that they had exchanged names? Is that the reason you didn't admit them to your room?—The reason was on account of the interview my attorney had with them. They didn't act in a gentlemanly way. From what I understood from my attorney they said on seeing him, " Oh, Sir Roger, Sir Roger, how are you." He informed them that he was not me, and he said that, under the circumstances, he certainly could not allow them to have an interview with me.

Is that what Mr. Holmes told you?—Yes, and I believe it to be true.

You really mean to say that Mr. Holmes came back to say they had changed names?—Yes.

Did he tell you he parted with them on very friendly terms, and fixed another day when they might find you better?—I don't think Mr. Holmes told me so.

Will you swear it?—How can I swear it?

Were you expecting at that time that the case was to be brought before vice-Chancellor Wood?—I think not.

And that, as you were to be present, they might go into the court and see you? How could I say that when I didn't see them?

Don't ask me questions. Do you happen to know whether you were or were not present before Vice-Chancellor Wood?—I can't say.

Do you happen to know that when the case was before the Vice-Chancellor both of them attended?—No.

Have you seen them since?—Not to notice them.

Did you ever play a practical joke on Major Betty?—Very possibly. We were always playing practical jokes on one another.

Give me one instance of a practical joke you played on Major Betty?—I remember fixing a bucket of water over his door.

Where was that?—At Cahir.

Did it come on his head?—I don't think it came on his head, but it wetted him.

Can you give me any other instance of a practical joke that was played on you, or that you played on somebody else?—Well, I found a small donkey tied up in my bed one night. (Much laughter.)

Where was that?—At Cahir.

Did you know Mr. Maunders?—Yes.

Was he in the regiment?—He came shortly after I joined.

Was he a friend of yours?—Yes; I think so.

Did you ever go about with him at all?—Yes, sometimes.

Where?—Nowhere in particular.

Was he at Cahir?—Yes.

Did anything happen to him there?—Not that I remember.

Who was the barrack master?—I don't remember. I have heard the name twenty times for the past two months, but I can't give it now.

Do you recollect anything happening to him?—He got married.

Do you call that " anything happened to him? (Laughter.) He was married while the regiment was at Cahir?—Yes.

You were at the wedding?—No, I was not.

When you left the regiment did anything pass between you and Maunders?—I don't remember.

Have you seen him since you came back?—I saw him outside the court one day I was coming in.

Where does he live?—At Marlborough.

Did yon go there to see him?—Yes.

Did you see him?—No.

Was he there?—He was, I believe.

Who was with you?—Rous.

How is it that you didn't see him?—Because I got very ill, and turned as black in the face and hauds as your dress. I returned, and put myself under Dr. Lipscomb's care.

How long were you at Marlborough.?—I got there late at night, and left in the morning.

Were you there again?—No.

Do you really mean that you only left Marlborough because you were ill?—Yes.

Had you written to him to say you were going?—No.

Then you went on chance?—Yes.

Do you know Mrs. Maunders?—Yes.

Have you seen her?—She was with him outside the court.

Did you know Mr. Gilburn in the Carabineers?—You mean Dr. Gilburn. He was in the 89th, not the Carabineers.

Was he not the medical man of the Carabineers?—No.

He never attended you?—Oh, yes, he did.

How came that?—He was stationed at Clonmel, and he came to attend me.

Have you seen him?— No.

You haven't been recognised by him?—I never thought of him.

Have you seen Mr. Peachey, the quartermaster?—There was no quartermaster of that name that I knew.

Did you know Captain Fredericks?—He never saw me, and I never saw him, until I met him some time ago at Leytonstone.

We'll produce him.—Considering that he is dead I don't see how you can.

Perhaps we're not speaking of the same person?—That may be

Did you know Bacon?—No.

Hannahan?—No.

Fenton?—Do you mean Sergeant Fenton?

I mean any person of the name?—He gave evidence for me some time $$Unclear$$

I don't mean him.—Then I don't know him.

Do you know John Irwin?—Yes.

Has he identified you?—I don't think I have seen him

Hadden—Do you remember him?—I remember the name. I think he is the person we used to call " The Swallow."

What was " The Swallow?"—A private.

Had you anything to do with him ever?—No.

Merely one of the ordinary privates?—Just so.

Do you remember Lockwood?—No.

Do you remember Withers?—No.

Do you remember Cummings?—Yes; there was a man there named Cummings.

Was he a private?—I think so.

Have you seen him or had a talk with him?—No.

Nor with Ballard?—No.

Do you know Charles Chinnels?—The names are all familiar to me, but I forget the men themselves.

Do you remember John Holmes?—No.

Do you remember John Carr?—Yes.

What was he?—A private.

Do you know anything about him?—Nothing in particular.

Have you seen him?—No.

Do you know Colonel Graham?—I think he was in the 45th.

What was that?—An infantry regiment. I believe it was at Clonmel.

Did you know him very well?—No.

Did you know Captain Marryatt?—No.

Did you ever join in any sport, with Captain Marryatt?—I don't remember him at all.

Did you know Mr. Hibberd?—I don' t remember him.

He was not a friend of yours?—The name sounds very familiar, but I don't remember the person.

Did you know John Holohan?—I knew a Holohan in Cahir. I don't know whether his name was John or not.

What was he?—A young gentleman who resided there.

How did you know him?—He used to dine at the mess frequently.

Did he live in the town?—He lived somewhere near the town.

Was he a young man about your own age?—I think he was a little older than me.

Did you do anything else with him besides dining with him?—I can't remember.

Did you hunt with him?—Very possibly I did.

Can you say for certain?—No.

Did you ever fish with him?—I don't remember.

You used to fish there?—Yes.

You don't remember anything happening when you both were fishing?—No.

Did you do anything else with him besides dining and hunting?—I walked with him sometimes.

Did you know Mrs. Lutman?—No.

Did you know Major Lutman?—I don t remember.

Did you know Miss O'Ryan?—Yes.

Who was she?—She was Mrs. Chayter's daughter—that is, if you mean the O'Ryans of Bansha Castle.

Did you know Mr. Butler?—I fancy he was a magistrate at Cahir.

Do you recollect Miss Butler?—No.

Do you know Mr. Killett?—Yes.

Is he the mail you call " Dick Killett?"—Yes.

What was he?—He lived in Clonmel.

Was he a gentleman living independently?—I suppose so; I never inquired.

Did you know kim well?—Yes.

He used to come and dine at the mess?—Yes, frequently.

Have you been at his house?—Many a time.

Where was it?—Over the bridge on the left.

Had he any family?—I can't say. If he had any they must have been young.

Was he married?—Yes, to Mr. Morton's second daughter.

Whether they had any children you don't know?—No; if they had any they couldn't have been old.

You don't recollect seeing any children about?—No.

Did you know Mr. Sargent?—Yes.

Have you seen him?—Not since I left Ireland.

You knew him very well?—Yes.

Do you recollect anything happening to you at Mr. Killett's?—No.

Nor at Mr. Morton's when Dick Killett was there?—No.

Did you know Mr. Richardson?—I can't say.

You didn't know him well?—No.

You have told me of a man called " Swallow." Do you remember a man whose real name was Swallow?—No.

Do you remember a Mr. Waterfield?—I remember the name but not the person.

In a letter to Mrs. Greenwood you say, " I soon hope to have a hunt with my old friend George." Who was that?—I should think it was Colonel Greenwood.

Have you any doubt of it?—No.

Then he was your old friend, and you had hunted with him?—Yes.

He had been very kind to you when you were a youth?—He was a man I was very intimate with. He taught me to ride.

Have you seen him since you came back?—I have.

Has he recognised you?—I think not.

Did you meet him in the railway in June, 1868?—Yes; I met him in a railway carriage.

Was Colonel Lushington with you?—Yes.

When the train stopped did Colonel Lushington go by your wish and ask him to come into the carriage?—He did so, and I had no objection.

Did Colonel Greenwood come into the carriage?—Yes, after a great deal of persuasion.

Did you open the conversation by saying, " You don't recognise me?" and did he say, " Not the least. Is it by your wish I am here?"—I didn't take any notes of what transpired, and therefore I'm not in a position to state what took place. Colonel Lushington took notes, so it is better to get it from him when he is in the box.

But surely you can tell whether your old friend used these words?—I don't think that transpired.

Did he say, " Is it by your wish I am here?"—He said that.

And did you say " No;" and did he then leave the carriage —Certainly not.

At Guildford, did not Colonel Lushington again go up to Col. Greenwood and press him to return to the carriage, and did he not go back?—That is all quite new to me.

It is a fact?—If it is I know nothing about it. There must be some mistake.

Did Colonel Greenwood ask you to tell him something that had taken place between Roger Tichborne and him?—Yes.

And did you not say, " Do you recollect my coming to Brookwood with a yonng officer of the Carabineers, who afterwards turned priest?"—He was not in the Carabineers. I have some impression I did, because I did go to Brookwood with a young officer.

Did he say, " Well, I don't recollect that?"—I don't recollect what he said, or what I said myself.

Did he ask you if you remembered going with him to the Roman Pavement?— That is very good for you, but it is the other way. I asked him if he remembered going to the Roman Pavement.

Did he say, " Mention something that you and I only know?"—Very probably.

Do you recollect saying, " Didn't you once hide your coat in a hedge at night, and go on foot from Winchester to London?"—Yes, I believe I said that.

Did Colonel Lushington say that he wished you would tell Colonel Greenwood about the cairn of flints that had been raised over his horse.? I never knew he said that

Do you recollect working at the cairn with Greenwood and using a wheelbarrow?— If I said that it would be true.

Did Colonel Lushington say, " You know you went with Greenwood' to Sandhurst for your examination for the army?"—I think you're imputing more to Colonel Lushington than he said.

Answer my question.—If I am to answer it strictly, I don't tliink I said so.

Did you say you recollected all about it; that you and Greenwood put up at the Duke of York and slept there, and that young Radcliffe had luncheon with you?—No.

Did Greenwood say " No," and did you say, " Do you mean to say young Radcliffe hadn't luncheon with us?" and did ho reply " Yes? we didn't sleep at the Duke of York; we had luncheon at the Tumbledown Dick?"—No.

The Chief-Justice: Did he mention the Tumbledown Dick at all?

The Claimant: I don't think he did, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: The carriages of the train changed at Woking, and you got into another carriage together. Did you then say, " What was that you said about the Tumbledown Dick?"—Your brief or my head must be turned upside down. (Laughter.) It was at Guildford we changed carriages.

Did Colonel Lushington ask you whether Colonel Greenwood waa present when you were examined, and did you say, " I believe he was?"—I don't think he asked me that question.

Were you three the only people in the carriage?—That is all.

Did Colonel Greenwood say, " Is what you been telling me from your recollection or from what you learned since you came to England," and did you say " No?"—Nothing of the kind.

And did lie say, " The reason I asked you is because Bishop told me that you were first asked which of the two Mr. Greenwoods you meant, and you could not say?"—I never said so.

Did you say it to Colonel Greenwood?—He never asked me anything about it.

Did Colonel Greenwood ask you whether you had been in the habit of riding with Miss Doughty?—Yes.

Did he ask you to describe her horse, and did you say it was a grey horse?—I think not.

Will you swear it?—I can't say one way or the other.

Did he ask you what was the name of Miss Doughty s favourite mare, and did you say you couldn't tell?—I don't remember his asking the question.

Did he say, " You might have known the colour, but not the name. If poor Roger was alive, he would have known the name as well as the colour of his cousin's mare?"— No.

Neither of the Colonel Greenwoods has recognised you?—No

Nor the Nangles?—No.

Nor the Seymours?—No.

Nor the Townleys?—No.

Nor the Hibberts?—No.

Nor Lady Doughty?—No.

Nor Mr. and Mrs. Radcliffe?—Oh, dear, no.

Nor Lady Dormer?—No.

Nor Mrs. Higgins?—No.

Nor any of the Arundels?—No.

Nor Lady Rawlinson?—No.

Nor Mrs. Bouverie?—No.

Nor any single member of the family, except the Dowager Lady Tichborne and Mr. Biddulph?—That is all.

Is that your signature (affidavit produced)?—Yes.

You state in the affidavit that you had been identified by your mother, Dame Harriet Felicité Tichborne, some of your cousins, as well as by a large number of old friends and connections who knew you before you left England in 1853, and that in all, upwards of ninety witnesses, including your mother and cousins, swore to your identity. You say, " My mother in an affidavit states, inter alia, ' I am as certain as I am of my own existence that the plaintiff is my first-born son, Roger Charles Tichborne. His face, disposition, and voice are unmistakable, and in my opinion he cannot fail to be recognised by impartial persons who knew him before he

Can you tell me who Dr. Brown was?—Yes, of course I can. He was the Catholic Bishop of Lancashire.

Did you know him?—I did.

Where did you meet him?—At Tichborne and Bath.

Anywhere else?—I don't remember the places, but I know I did.

Did you know M. Lamartine in France?—I think not.

Who was he?—If I don't remember him I should think it is rather difficult to say. (Laughter.)

Had you ever a collection of the costumes of the French army?—Yes; it was in a book.

What became of it?—I don't know what I did with it.

Can you tell me what a cone is?—It rather puzzles me.

I put it in the connection that you had to sleep on the top of a cone. I suppose it would mean a couch of some kind?—I don't know.

Did you ever know a Lady Clanricarde?—Yes, in Ireland.

Where?—I met her at the Deases.

Will you swear you have ever spoken to Lady Clanricarde? I will.

Where?—I can't remember, but I think it was at the Deases.

Was she young or old?—Middle-aged.

Who was Lady Clanricarde?—I don't know what the family connection was.

Did you know Lord Clanricarde or Sir Edward Clanricarde?—I don't know who Sir Edward Clanricarde is. Lord Clanricarde was not with his wife when I saw her.

Can you tell me what a troubadour is? (Laughter.) I might if he was playing on his guitar. (Renewed, laughter.)

What is he?—A travelling minstrel.

You used to play the horn. Did you take your horn with you?—I took one with me, I think.

Had you more than one?—I had two or three.

Was it a French horn or a cornet-à-piston?—A French horn.

Where did you leave the others?—I left one at Thomson's, in St. James's-place. I can't say where I left the other.

You were obliged, after the death of the dowager, to deposit her papers in Chancery?—Yes; for your use.

Who came for them?—I sent them up by train to my attorney when the order of the Court was made.

Was there anybody staying with you?—I think not.

Was Mr. Baigent in the house when you got notice of the order?—I don't remember.

You told my learned friend that when you were shipwrecked you had a ring with the Tichborne crest on it.—Did you say with the Tichborne crest? I think you'll find it was a cornelian ring.

In your examination in chief you said the ring had a hind's head with wings, which was the Tichborne crest, on it.—I think I was mistaken. " R. C. T." was on it.

Is that a mistake, then?—Yes, as regards tne crest. I had other rings with the crest on.

You wanted money?—Yes.

That was before you made the agreement with Mr. roster in Melbourne?—Yes.

When you wanted money badly, why, instead of selling your ring, didn't you go to a banker and draw on Glyn?—You might go to a hundred bankers, and not get anything from them out there.

You didn't draw?—No.

Nor try?—No.

That was the only ring you had?—Yes.

The others went to the bottom?—Yes.

Whereabouts in Melbourne did you sell the ring?—Either in Elizabeth-street or Burke-street.

In a jeweller's shop?—Yes, it was a kind of jeweller's shop.

Did you ever try to get any evidence of the ring since?—Yes, I think so.

Did you know what was done under the commission to get it?—No.

Did you give instructions about it?—Yes.

The Chief-Justice: Had the other men who were with you any money?

The Claimant: No, my lord.

The Chief-Justice: Was there any attempt made by the captain to get money for the other men?

The Claimant : I knew nothing about them. They were working in the ship with

The Solicitor-General : What inn did you go to at Winchester?—The White Hart. The George is the favourite inn there.

Look at that book (produced). Do you recollect it?—No. It appears here that it was given me by Sir Edward Doughty's son.

Did you know him?—He was but a child when he died

You told me about the will you made before you left England. Who drew it?—Mr. Slaughter. Mr. Burrowes was the counsel.

Did you see Mr. Burrowes?—Yes, three or four times

Were there alterations made?—Yes.

When did you first determine on the general outline of the will?—Nine or ten months before it was finished.

Did you draw out the heads of what you wished done?—I believe I did.

Where was it done?—In the first instance at Mr. Slaughter's office, and afterwards by letters to him.

Was there any one present in the office but Mr. Slaughter?—No.

The Court being here about to adjourn for lunch,

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine asked that certain papers which had been in the possession of Mr. Gosford, should be deposited by a gentleman who was present and had them in his possession.

Mr. Thomas English Stevens, of Liverpool, the gentleman referred to by the learned Serjeant, came forward and said there was a right of property in the papers, and begged his lordship's directions in the matter.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine undertook to give any indemnity that might be required. He also explained that he was ignorant of the contents of the papers.

The papers were accordingly handed to Mr. Turner, the clerk of the court, under a subpœnâ duces tecum, his lordship directing that the parcel was to be kept secret until opened by his order.

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the re-assembling of the court after luncheon.

The plaintiff's answer in the Chancery suit of " Tichborne v. Castro" was put in.

The Solicitor-General then proceeded with the further cross-examination of the claimant.

Did you see any one else except Mr. Slaughter and Mr. Burrows with respect to the preparation of your will?—No. I did not.

In a letter of Lady Tichborne to Mr. Gibbes, on the 17th September, she stated: " I believe him to be my son, notwithstanding what he told you about enlisting, and the other statements he made to you different from mine." Can you explain that?—No; I know nothing about the letter. I never said anything to Gibbes about enlisting.

Mr. Gibbes was called on your side when the Australian commission was taken? I don't recollect.

Did he not say that you told him you were in the 66th Regiment as a private for thirteen days, that they were armed with swords and carbines, and were light dragoons?—No; I was in the 6th Dragoons.

Were they armed with swords and carbines?—Yes.

Did you say they were the Blues?—No; I said they wore blue regimentals.

Did you say you were born in Dorsetshire?—I did not.

Did you gay anything to Mr. Gibbes about Sir Vincent Gosford?—No, I did not.

Can you account for Lady Tichborne explaining to Mr. Gibbes in one of her letters that it was Mr. Vincent, and not Sir Vincent, Gosford who was land agent to Sir James Tichborne?—No, I cannot. Gibbes might have called him Sir Vincent in mistake.

Did you eyer tell Gibbes that your preceptor was a Jesuit?—No, I did not.

Have you any letters in your possession from Mr Gibbes to yourself?—No.

What has become of them?—I think they are at Dawson's in Sydney.

Have you received any from him since you have been in this country?—Very probably I have.

What have you done with them?—I can't say.

Have you destroyed them?—No, I should say not.

Cannot you say what has beeome of them?—No; I have not the slightest knowledge of them. I might still have them, for aught I know.

Will you look for them?—Yes, if you will give me till next January to do it. (A laugh.)

Can you find them by to-morrow morning?—'Tis impassible. They may be amongst a vast quantity of letters that I have.

Was your wife an Englishwoman?—No, she was born in the colony.

Was her father an Englishman?—No, he was born in the colony. Her mother was born in Dublin, I believe.

What calling was her father?—He was a builder.

At Wagga Wagga?—No, at Goulbourn.

You are sure your wife was not born in England?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: How long had you known her before your marriage? Six or seven months, I think.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Then you can't tell us anything of her antecedents?.

The Claimant: She was born in Pitt-street, Sydney.

The Solicitor-General: Had she been married previously to seeing you?— No.

Did you know a person named Charles Panel!—No.

Did you know a Mr. Henry Angel?—Yes, I met him at Mr. Holmes.

He was a friend of Arthur Orton's?—Yes.

And one of the persons you mentioned in the wagga wagga will ?—Yes.

Do you recollect seeing Mr. Panel and Mr. Angel at Mr. Holmes's office on the 15th July, 1868?—Now I think I know the person (Mr. Panel) you mean. I did not see him at Mr. Holmes's office at all.

Did Mr. Holmes introduce you as " Sir Roger," or, as some say, " Arthur Orton? "—No.

Where did you see Mr. Angel and Mr. Panel?—At the New City Club, where we dined.

When the dinner was over did not a gentleman sit down and have a good deal of conversation with you?—I don't remember any one.

Did he not say that he would have to go to Liverpool the next day, as he had had a telegram about South America?—He might have done; but I did not take any particular notice.

Don't you remember the gentleman?—Yes, I think I have some recollection of him now. It was Mr. Anthony Norris.

Did you retire with him into a private room?—Yes.

Did you see Mr. Panel again that night?—No.

Was not a message sent to you that he was ready to see you before he went away? —Not that I remember.

Do you not say that you would rather not see him that night?—I did not.

Do you know William Jervis, the keeper of the Sir Colin Campbell public-house, Postern-road, Tower-hill?—No, I do not.

Was he not a friend of Orton's?—I can't say.

Have you seen Jervis since the beginning of these proceedings?—No, I have not.

Did you ever ride a Shetland pony with him?—No, I never rode a Shetland pony in my life.

Have you heard Orton say that he had ridden a Shetland pony with Jervis?—No.

Orton knew a John Jervis at Bridport, I believe?—Yes, I have heard him say so.

He merely knew him, I suppose, as a friend?—That's all.

And that's how the name got into the will?—Yes.

Do you know Mr. Frederick Whitbread, a farmer, of Essex?—No, I do not.

Have you seen him since you came back?—I don't know him.

Did you go last spring to a shooting match at Ilford, in Essex?—Yes, I have been there.

Were you at the Greyhound Inn on the 12th March, last year?—I might have been; I put up at an inn.

Did you meet a man as you were going into the doorway, and then turn back and walk away?—I did not.

You did not turn away because Mr. Frederick Whitbread was there, a man you had known in early life?—Certainly not. I never knew such a man.

Did you see a man at the shooting match who seemed as it he wished to have a look at you?—No; but I find the generality of people anxious to do that. (A laugh.)

Did you look at the man as you walked away?—Certainly not. I never looked at any one I knew there.

It was intimated by the Judge that another large box of letters, the property of Mr. Gosford, had been sent to the Associate by Mr. Stevens, and that the contents could be seen by the learned gentlemen on both sides.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The solicitors will probably give up their vacation to inspect them. That is another reason why an adjournment should take place as arranged.

The Chief-Justice: You must arrange between yourselves as to what will be the most convenient course.

The Solicitor-General (to the Claimant): Your brother Alfred was at Downside?—Yes.

Did you ever go to see him?—Yes, just before I went away.

About a week or a month?—About a week.

Can you tell me how often you went to see him at Downside?—I think I went on that one occasion only.

Whom did you see on that occasion?—I don't recollect anyone.

How long did you stay there?—I came back the next day.

Where did you sleep?—At an hotel at Bath.

What hotel?—The White Lion, I believe.

Do you remember any remarkable conversation you had with Lady Doughty in 1851 or 1852 about her daughter—before the breaking off, I mean?—No, I don't remember any in particular.

Do you recollect meeting them in London in 1851, and going anywhere with them?— No, I do not.

Or in 1852?—I believe I went into the Exhibition with them.

What Exhibition?—The Exhibition.

The Academy?—The Academy! No.

Oh! the exhibition of 1851. I am sorry I have offended you. Is the list of your creditors in bankruptcy true?—I don't know.

Was it drawn up by you?—No, it was drawn by Mr. Moojen, who was my attorney at that time. I think be found out the amounts. I did not know them myself.

Does the schedule show a correct account of your debts?—I believe so.

Have you had your attention called to the schedule over and over again?—Do you mean when you published it in the papers at Winchester? I signed the schedule, but I don't think my attention has been called to it, as you say, over and over again.

Did you owe J. F. Adams, at the time your schedule was drawn, £300?—Yes, I think so. There is no doubt that most of the amounts are correct.

You owed Mr. Bloxam £15,000. What does that amount represent?—I don't see that I have a right to answer the question.

It won t criminate you. What was it for?—It was a bond given for legal expenses, and rent, taxes, and so forth.

How much has he paid for you?—Some hundreds of pounds, I should say.

The Chief-Justice: But I understand that you had an allowance from Lady Tichborne after your arrival in England?—Yes; but this bond was given in 1869, after I returned from South America.

The Solicitor-General: Who is Mr. Bloxam?—A friend of mine.

Is he a wine merchant?—Not at this moment. He used to be one, I believe.

Does he get his money by selling wine?—How do I know how another person gets his money. It's enough for me to know how I get mine.

Has he any of the Tichborne bonds to dispose of?—Well, he may have saved a few.

Was be the originator of the Tichborne scheme?—He might have set it on foot.

Did he suggest that £100,000 should be raised by means of debentures? Were there many shares in this joint-stock company?—There was nothing of a joint-stock company about it. There was merely an issue of debentures.

Well, then, it is an incorrect expression. But you know what I mean?—Yes.

Who set it on foot? I see it was a mortgage loan of £100,000; 1,000 debentures of £100 eacb, issued at £65. Who set this loan on foot?—Messrs. Clayburn, Fearon, and Co. were acting for me. The prospectus was printed for their use in getting up the loan.

Did they finance it?—Finance it! What do you mean?

Did they get you the money?—They acted for me.

Have you sold any of the debentures since it was started?—Yes, a few.

How much money have you raised?—About £2,000, perhaps.

Do you know of any one who has gone in heavily for these Tichborne bonds?—No, I do not.

Has Mr. Guildford Onslow taken any bonds?—No, I think not.

What is their market value now—are they high or low?—It all depends.

Has the Bank of England taken any of them?—I can't say.

Glyn's, or Coutts's, or any other house of the kind?—I have no idea.

Then you have got about £2,000 by these debentures?—Yes.

You issue a few more, I suppose, when you want a little money?—Yes.

Are they being issued now?—They are not.

Would you be disposed to let me or any one else have a few?—Yes, if you chose to take them. (Laughter.) I merely let a few of my private friends have them instead of hills. It was arranged privately by Messrs Clayburn and Fearon, but when my bsankruptcy appeared in the newspapers the scheme was put an end to. I think about £15,000 worth have been sold to my private friends—to those who were willing to take them.

I see in your schedule there is T. Birch, £3,000. What was that sum for?—For money advanced from time to time.

Then there is Mr. Bullpit, £600; Mr. Baigent, £50; and Mr. Barrett, £500. For what purpose was Barrett's money advanced?—To pay for clothes the men had at the funeral, for things I gave away, and for money lent.

Then amongst others there is Mr. Doyle, of the Reform Club, £3,000. What was that for?—Money lent. I received £1,000 for it.

Mr. Falk, of Falkland-place, £1,413. Was that for money lent?—Yes; but I can't say exactly what amount was advanced. I think it was something like £500.

Mr. Govett, King s Bench-walk, £1,500. What was that for?—I have not the slightest recollection.

Mr. Gorton, Bedford-row, £500. What was that for?—For money lent. I generally had to pay at the rate of £200 per cent.

Then there is Mr. Holmes's bill, £5,395. That was for work and labour done, I suppose?—Yes; that amount is the balance of his bill.

Has any of that amount been paid?—No, I think not.

Has any been paid off by way of execution?—I think there was; the amount stated is the balance due.

Mr. Harwood. I see, gives the same address as Mr. Guildford Onslow, and the amount entered against his name is £3,000?—He is the agent of Mr. Onslow. He advanced me £1,000.

Mr. C. Hingston and Mr. J. Hingston advanced you money?—Yes.

At the same rate?—Yes.

200 per cent?—Yes, three months' bills, bearing interest.

The Chief-Justice: Was the interest calculated upon the amount for which the bills were given?—Yes, at the rate of 5 per cent, I believe.

The Solicitor-General: Do you mean it was 200 per cent for tliree months' bills?— I hope not.

You did not mean that?—The hills were made for three months for the purpose of registering them.

Then there are the names of Mr. Hicks, Wells, £800; and Messrs. Jenner and Knewstub £2,000. Can you explain that?—I think there is some exaggeration there, i don't think I owe them £2,000." Some of the articles I bought belonged to my mother.

Is the £2,000 owing for goods or for money lent?—I have had nearly all my stationery from them since my return.

But £2,000 would go a long way in stationery. Does it represent dressing-cases, rings, and so on?—I dare say there were some dressing-cases amongst the goods.

What were the goods?—I don't know what they were now. You had better go and look at them yourself if you want to know.

Then, I see the name of Mr. Lea, Gray s Inn-square, £1,000?—Yes, that was for money lent.

Col. Lushington, £1,000?—You might put down more, I think. I had fully £1 000 from that gentleman.

Mr. Lipscombe, Alresford, £300. Is that for money lent?—I don't think I owe that amount. There must be some mistake.

Mr. T. Moojen, solicitor, £3,000,?—That was for lesgal expenses.

Mr. Nichols, Seething-lane, £500. Was that for money lent?—I can't say.

Then there is Mr. Guildford Onslow, £3,200. Does that represent £1,000 advanced?— Well, it really means money advanced by Mr. Harwood, Mr. Onslow's agent.

Then between them they have advanced £6,200?—No; it has all been advanced by the agent. Some of the bills are in Mr. Onslow's name, as Mr. Harwood did not wish to take all of them. Mr. Onslow has no interest in my affairs except to the extent of about £2O0, the price of a horse that I bought of him. Mr. Onslow took bills to the amount of £3,000 in his own name, but really for his agent.

I see the name of W. Page, Hermitage-wharf, Wapping; £500. Is that money lent?—He holds one of the bills which I sold to Mr. Bloxam. Mr. Bloxam let me have some money for some bills. When Page was going to see me he thought he should see Arthur Orton; but when the interview came he was so convinced that I was not Orton that he advanced the money. I think £300 was given for £500, or something of the kind.

Did you know this Mr. Page previously?—No, I knew nothing of him whatever.

Then there is Mr. Reynolds, Ratcliffe-gardens, £500. Was that money lent?—It has been paid off. I believe part of it was money lent.

Dr. Reed, Petersham, £100?—That was for medical attendance.

Mr. Sangster, Cockspur-street, £410. Was that money lent?—No; for articles bought at his shop.

Then there is T. H. Scarborough, Spring-gardens, £1,000. What is that for?— For money lent. He paid off debts for me on several occasions.

What did you get for the £1,000?—£400 or £500, I think.

Mr. Short, of Knightsbridge, £1,500?—That was bills Bloxam sold to him.

Sewell, horse-dealer, Pimlieo, £210?—That is for the mare I am now driving. I bought her four years ago.

Mr. Scott, Alresford, £100?—There is a mistake there. Mr. Scott kindly sent me a cheque for that amount, and told me that instead of paying it hack to him I was to give it the county hospital.

Messrs. sUnwin Brothers, stationers, City, £3,000. Is that money lent?—Yes; I had £1,000 from them.

J. West, Richmond, £3,000. What was that for?—Money lent, but on the distinct understanding that he was to wait until I got possession of my estates. That is the party who made me a bankrupt. I wish he had been in the West as far as I am concerned.

Then there is a carnage-builder's account for £60?—Yes, for the brougham I now use.

Mr. Whalley, M.P., £25? (A laugh.)—I do not owe that amount. Mr. Whalley sent me a cheque in mistake, and it was returned to him. A cheque had been sent previously to one of my attorneys, hut I did not see anything of it. I suppose that is the cheque which is entered.

Mr. Whitelock Glover, £17, and Mr. Zucharney, Euston-square, £2,000. What is that for?—Articles of furniture, looking glasses, and money lent. He is a furniture manufacturer.

Who drew the prospectus?—It was prepared by Clayburn, Fearon, and Co., and submitted to me.

Did it contain some of the incidents of Sir Koger's life?—I don't tbink I ever read any of them. The particulars ware not furnished by me.

In whose handwriting is this address (on a pamphlet)?—Mr. Guildford Onslow's, I should say.

Did you send out copies of this pamphlet which has these words: " Extracts from some of the very numerous affidavits and declarations," &c., a little index, and some of your affidavits set out? Have you given these pamphlets away largely?—No, it was only used in connection with this debenture loan.

The Solicitor-General then proceeded to examine the claimant from his banker s pass-book.

I see you banked at the Union Bank, Croydon?—Yes.

I observe that several cheques were drawn by a person named Carter.—Yes, he was my servant. I used, to send him to the bank to draw the money for me, and. sometimes for Lady Tichborne, her ladyship's bank being in London.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine said he could not see what bearing this part of the examination could have upon the case at issue. It was evident that Carter was employed by the claimant as his servant.

The Solicitor-General: There is an entry of a cheque paid to a Mr. Cater. Who was he?—A person who arrived from Australia. He was waiting for a remittance from the colony at the time.

He has made an affidavit on your behalf?—Yes, certainly.

And here is one paid fro Bogle?—Yes. Carter must have been away at the time. I used to send any of my servants to the bauk when I was in a hurry.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: As there are to all appearances mistakes in names, you had better examine from the cheques themselves (handed in).

The Solicitor-General: Very well. We will proceed upon them instead of the pass-book.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is now getting late (four o'clock). I hardly know what I am doing. In fact, I am entirely gone. (Laughter.)

The Court then adjourned till the next day.

THIRTY-EIGHTH DAY.—WEDNESDAY, JULY 5.

THIRTY-SEVENTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

On the learned Judge taking his seat,

The Claimant, addressing his lordship, said: My lord, there is a matter I wish to draw the attention of the press to as regards Mr. T. H. Scarborough. I was asked by the Solicitor-General what I had received from him, and I said from £400 to £500. I have had a letter from that gentleman, saying that the statement would do him a great deal of injury. I feel bound, in justice to him, to say that the amount was for money lent and labour done, and that he has never asked me for my signature to any document.

The Solicitor-General: I mentioned yesterday to my learned friend, in order to prevent the necessity of making the statement in public, that on the part of the defendants we should desire that the claimant, before my cross-examination is concluded, should be personally examined by some medical man. Of course I am perfectly aware that there may be objections on certain points of the examination; but the ground upon which I ask for it is, that the claimant has dwelt upon matters from which he desires the inference to be drawn that he is the person he represents himself to be. He has spoken to marks on his ankles as the consequence of his having been bled at Canterbury; a mark on his shoulder, a mark on his arm, the brown mark on his side, the mark on his head as the result of an accident, and certain small markon his eyelids and eyebrows. My desire is that some eminent surgeon should be appointed by your lordship to examine him so that there may be no partisanship. He is, I suppose, going to call surgeons who will say that they have seen the marks, and I therefore desire that some surgeon on the part of the defendants should be permitted to see them also.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: My learned friend must know perfectly well at the time he makes it that your lordship has no power to make any such order. On the part of the plaintiff, I positively forbid him being examined as suggested by my learned friend the Solicitor-General. As, however, my learned friend has chosen to make this application publicly, and as, no doubt, some inference may be drawn from my refusal to accede to it, I think it right, as publicly as possible, to mention the grounds of my objection. While recognising the perfect right of the Tichborne family to dispute foot by foot the claim made by the plaintiff, and while imputing no motives to the representatives of the infant in pursuing that course, I have no hesitation in saying that that which I have relied upon, and which I will afterwards submit to the jury, is, that the whole Orton story is a deliberate conspiracy, founded upon utter falsehood, and I don't choose that this person should be examined before tho witnesses who are to be asked to speak to certain marks by which he is to be identified have been examined. For these reasons I decline publicly, as I have already done privately, to allow the examination to take place. When the proper time comes, I am sure that the claimant will raise no objection to a full and perfect examination, but until we hear the witnesses who are to identify him by certain marks, I will offer a most decided resistance to these marks being made known.

The Solicitor-General: I confess I am rather astonished that my learned friend should have made that speech. I have limited my application to the points to which the plaintiff has deposed, and your lordship and every counsel must know that applications of this kind are granted every day in case of railway accidents, or in any cases in which a physical examination has anything to do with the matter. My learned friend has chosen to say that those whom I represent have entered into a deliberate conspiracy. I will reply to him by saying that I consider this claim to be the result of a deliberate conspiracy, and that I consider the claimant an impostor.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You have said that from the very beginning.

Thse Solicitor-General: It must be observed that unless I had fully expected that this examination would be permitted, I should have objected to certain evidence that has been given.

The Chief-Justice: This is a matter which in railway cases is of very ordinary occurrence. In the first instance, when persons say they have certain marks, it is customary for the person making the claim to submit to an examination. If the application had been for a general examination, I should have thought that I was not called upon to express any opinion; but the plaintiff here has relied upon certain marks mentioned by the Solicitor-General, and it appears that surgeons are to be called on the part of the plaintiff to speak to those matters. If so, it is utterly impossible that these witnesses can be cross-examined without some medical man having had an opportunity of seeing the plaintiff on the part of the defendants. I am therefore strongly of opinion that as regards these particular matters relied upon by the plaintiff, he ought to be submitted to an examination of the same kind by a medical man on the part of the defendants. At this moment I do not feel certain as to the practice among the judges at large, and therefore I will take time to consider; but I must at once express my opinion that as regards these marks which are relied upon, and as to which evidence has already been given, they ought to be seen by some medsical man on behalf of the defendants.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: In any consideration your lordship may give to the points to which my learned friend has called your attention, you will observe that the effect of such an examination is in point of fact the examination of his body entirely. The ground of my resistance is not that he should not be ultimately examined, but I object to his being examined until after the witnesses in relation to Orton have been called. That is my sole objection.

The Chief-Justice (to the Solicitor-General): I must ask you to be good enough to renew this application. I shall be glad of the assistance of learned counsel as to the opinions and authorities on this point.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It is not so much with regard to a technical difficulty that I urge this point. With regard to the ankles and hands there can be no objection to anybody representing the other side seeing them; but I know the nature of the case that is to be set up, and I thing it would be most undesirable that an investigation of the kind suggested by my learned friend should take place until those witnesses who are to support the statement that the claimant is Orton have been heasrd.

The Solicitor-General? That is to say, to wait until it is too late.

The Chief-Justice then intimated that he should reserve his decision on the point.

After reading one or two short letters from Gould, the fisherman, at Poole, to Mr. Holmes, and which have already been published,

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was then continued: Had you seen that correspondence before you saw Gould?—I think not.

There was a matter mentioned in your examination as to the diligence by which you would have gone across the Cordilleras being stopped somewhere by Indians and robbed. Did you yourself communicate that to the papers in South America?—I brought down a Cordova paper to Buenos Ayres with the account.

Did you get it inserted in the Buenos Ayres papers?—No.

Did you write the account?—I gave the account to the editor of the paper at Buenos Ayres.

Did you yourself get any article written?—None whatever.

Was that published before you left Cordova?—Yes.

Did you get it inserted in the paper?—I don't know where the office is, or anybody belonging to it.

My question is—did you get it inserted?—I did not.

Is that (produced) your handwriting?—Yes.

No. 2, Wellesley-villas, Wellesley-road, May 23, '67.

My dear Rous,—I received your kind letter, and thank you for your kind wishes. Lady Tichborne and the boy are doing very well, and begs to be remembered to Mrs. Rous and yourself. We are coming down to Alresford as soon as Mary is able to go. The Dr. intends to keep me in for ten days longer, so I hope to be quite well by that time. I got very frightened yesterday morning, and thought I was agoing hunting in another country, But I am a good deal better today. Hoping, my dear friends, you are all well, and that we shall soon have the pleasure of seeing you, I remain, yours truly,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

My dear Friend,—We have received a very Valuable letter from Australia, But Mr. Holmes don t wish to let anyone know it But Bullpott, so non't say i told you. It an account of my arrival in Melbourne in fifty-four. It was sent by Banker, Mr. C.attic, A. I. J. Bank, Wagga-Wagga. He thought I might want it.

Have you got the letter you refer to there?—No.

Has Mr. Holmes?—I can't says.

I call on Mr. Holmes, under his subpœna to produce it.

Mr. Holmes: I'm first going to see if we've got it.

The Solicitor-General: You saw that letter which you mentioned as being very valuable?—I don't know that I did. The only person I told it to was very faithful to me.

Don't mind that. Can't you say that you saw the letter?—I don't recollect it.

Was it a long or a short letter?—Considering that I don't recollect it how can I say (Laughter.)

Will you swear to the judge and jury that you did not see that letter, which, as you told Mr. Rous, was a most valuable letter?—I will swear to the judge and the jury that I have no recollection whatever of any such letter.

Look at that (letter produced) and see if you remember it?—Yes.

The Solicitor-General then read a letter from Mr. Cotty, the banker at Wagga Wagga, to the claimant. The letter, which was dated 21st March, 1807, contained these passages:

My dear Sir Roger—I am very glad to hear of your safe arrival in England, and to find that the illness from which you have been suffering has disappeared. From the Home News I learn that you are likely to be involved in a law suit before you get into the possession of your .estates. It struck me that any duly authenticated account of your arrival in Melbourne might be of use to you, and I have accordingly written to Mr. Gibbes to look in the Colonial papers and make all the necessary inquiries as to the vessel in which you arrived.

That, very probably, is the letter?—Perhaps so.

But it does not contain an account of your arrival. It speaks of an inquiry for the arrival of the Osprey in 1851, which is a different thing. Looking at your own letter, have you any doubt you received a valuable letter giving an account of your arrival in Melbourne in 1854?—There must have been a second letter.

Can't you tell me where it is?—No.

Will you swear you ever had a letter from Australia giving an account of your arrival in Melbourne?—I have no recollection of the letter. The only thing I can refer to is what is written in my letter to Rous.

Will you swear you ever received such a letter?—I'm not going to swear anything about it. I infer from that letter of Mr. Cotty's that another letter was to follow.

Is your memory a perfect blank as to the receipt of that letter?—It is.

Was there a letter about which Holmes did not wish anybody but Bullpit to know?—I think so.

In a letter addressed to Mr. Rous on the 18th of February, 1868, you say, " I received two letters last niglit from my wife's friends. " Who do you mean by your wife's friends?—Do you want to know her friends now?

I want to know who you mean?—It would be her mother and her sister, I should think. They are the only two persons who can write.

You mean that they were family and domestic matters?—Yes; you can see them if you wish.

I don' t want to read them, but I shall be glad to see the dates.—They are not here, but you can have them.

Well, I won't trouble you. I'll only ask you for the names.—Her sister's name is Theresa Mary Agnes Payne, and her mother's name is May Payne.

I asked you yesterday about your schedule. How came you to become a bankrupt?—How came I to be a bankrupt?

Yes. You said a man named West made you bankrupt?—That's right.

Is that (letter produced) your handwriting?—Yes.

Melrose Lodge, Thistle Grove, West Brompton, March 18th, 1869.

Dear Rous,—Mr. Bloxam reed. yr. kind letter this morning. I am sorry to say he is very ill, he was confined to his bed all day yesterday; however, he has gone out to-day, although he is in a very unfit state to do so. I received the things all right you sent up. I am thinking of declaring myself bankrupt next week. I cannot Kingston and them to sign the deed; they all go with Holmes, who is trying to me all the injurie he can; yet the wretch says I still owe him £5,700. Do you think if this was the case, and that he had not sold me to my opponents, that he would not help me for his own sake. He an arrant sooundrel, make the best of him. And the day will come yet when I will pay him, and all his partisans, in their own coin. If the birds are not in the way, I will get you to keep them a day or two longer, till I get the place put up for them. I find I can go on with my case just the same after my bankruptcy, and I shall then have the pleasure of seeing that wretch swindled about his bill, and it will searve Hingston and the others right, for learning towards such a scoundrel. My wife joins me in kind regards to Mrs. Rous and yourself, and all friends in Alresford.—Believe me, truly yours,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Well, did you make yourself bankrupt?—I did not. I believe I was a bankrupt afterwards.

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Did you make yourself a bankrupt for the pleasure of seeing " this wretch Holmes swindled out of his £5,700?—Certainly not. The word " swindle" was made use of without meaning.

Is this letter true?—No doubt it was when I wrote it. I was harassed in every way. I didn't become a bankrupt of my own free will at all.

Here is another letter:—

21, Thistle Grove, Brompton, April 16th, 18 9.

Dear Rous,—I have heard to-day that Col. Lushing ton is soon expected back, and that he has no intention of leaving Tichborne. I am very sorry Spanny sold the pup, as I had promised it to a friend. Mr Onslow was here to-day, and felt annoyed because I had told you what he had said. I cannot get the money until the mortgage is drawn up, which will be eight or .ten days, and then you shall have the whole of the accounts together. Mr. Moojen and myself are going to Poole next week, or as soon as the above business is concluded, and will call and stay a day at Alresford. I have a very nice little place put up for my birds, and they are all doing well. You did not say when you are coming up. We should be all glad to see you. What I meant about the photo was that you gave one to an hotelkeeper in Winchester; he lent it to Bowker, and Bowker got it copied. Francis was my authority. Of course you could not think I would mind Mr. Marx having one, for I should have sent him 20 if he had wished it.—Believe me, yours truly,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Was that a mortgage on Mr. Onslow?—I don't know he has got a mortgage. He has got a charge for the £3,000.

What did you give him a charge on?—On the Doughty estates. Who had a better right to do it?

What mortgage was this which was to be drawn up when you were going to pay all the accounts together?—I can't tell, I'm sure.

The Solicitor-General then read the two following leters:—

2, Wellesley Villas, Croydon, March 7.

My dear Mamma,—I had the waggonette up the first thing this morning, but could not on account of the diarrhoea. There are also some suspicious looking-fellows about, so I don't want to go out. There is a train starts from Red Hill, which is twelve miles from here, at 9-15 p.m., so I shall drive over there and meet it to-night. I would liko you, my dear mamma, to come down and bring that letter with you that I showed you last night. I have had a very miserable night thinking about that letter, as I did not know if I had lost it. Now I remember, I left it on your table. Do not ask Carter any questions, as he knows nothing. Hoping soon to see you. I remain your affectionate son,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

Hotel des Bains, Boulogne, March 8th '68.

My dear Mamma,—I have great pleasure of leting you know I arrived safe. We had to stay all night at Folkstone, but arrived here quite safe this morning. I have told Bogle, my dear mama, to send you two letters that I left with him to show Mr. Hingston; one is the letter you saw, and the other is a letter from Mr. Holmes giving up the case. I would like you to go to Mr. Norton and ask him if he will take up the case, and show him Mr. Holmes's letter if he will show him the other, and get him to go and stop it so that I can come back. I can do no more now till I hear from you. This seems a very quite hotel, and we are very comfortable as yet. We had a very stormy passage across, the wind blew very hard. Send my kind love to my wife and children, and some kisses to dear little Agnes and Roger. The fellow that was watching me at Croydon yesterday came by the train to Folkestone this morning, but, being Sunday morning, he could not arrest me. Waiting now till I hear from you, my dear mamma, I remain your affectionate son.

Do you mean that the letter you left behind and that Lady Tichborne saw was a letter from Holmes?—Yes. He told me I was going to be arrested for debt, and that was the reason I went away.

Did he give up the case?—No. He was my solicitor for twelve months after.

You said that when you started from Rio on the Bella you left a quantity of letters with Jules Barron. Why was that?'—Because he was to bring my luggage on board.

Do you mean that the whole of your luggage remained at Rio in the custody of Jules Barron?—Yes.

Do you know that Barron made a declaration after the loss of the Bella?—Yes.

And that he didn't say a word about the luggage r—i am aware or that, out it doesn't alter the fact.

Did you know a man named Shiell?—I know several of that name.

I mean in Australia?—Yes, there are several there.

Is there a Shiell a magistrate out there?—Yes.

Did. you instruct Mr. Holmes to write to Mr. Shiell about some letters?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected, and the question was not pressed.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letters:—

25, Poultry, London, Oct, 28, 1867.

Sir,—Doubtless you have seen by the press that Tom Castro, who lived for some time at flay, Deniliquin, Wagga Wagga, and other places in New South Wales, has returned to England under his proper name of Sir Roger Charles Doughty Tichborne, Baronet, and that I am taking the necessary proceedings on his behalf to recover possession of his estates. The only question involved is one of identity. Ho informs me that during a very severe illness, from which he did not expect to recover, he wrote and handed you letters which you afterwards returned to him. May I ask you to be good enough to inform me whether you knew the contents of such letters; if so, to what they related, and in what year and under what circumstances they were delivered to you? Sir Roger tells me that he stated in such letters he was not Tom Castro, but Roger Charles Tichborne, son of Sir James Tichborne, Hampshire, England. I am, of course, very anxious to know from independent testimony whether such was the case or not.—I am, yours truly,

JOHN HOLMES.

H. Sheill, Esq., Coroner, Sydney, New South Wales.

City Coroner's Office, Sydney, 24th Dec., 1867.

Sir—I am in receipt of yours of the 28th October last, having reference to the recent claim preferred to the Tichborne baronetcy by Tom Castro, formerly of New South Wales. I lived at two of the places mentioned in your letter, viz., Deniliquin, from 9th March, 1854, to the 6th May, 1859, and Hay, from the 7th May, 1859, to 9th May, 1866, and I cannot recall to memory Tom Castro's residence at either of those towns, nor the receipt of any letter of the tenor referred to in yours. I have a perfect recollection, however, of a large-framed tall man of prepossessing appearance, who. whilst employed in the capacity of bricklayer's assistant during the erection of the Electric Telegraph Station at Hay, more than once told me that he was heir to a baronetcy, but I do not now remember his name, or whether I ever heard it; in fact, I paid little or no altention to the statement, which was generally made when under the influence of drink. He was a man of education, and appeared a gentleman, although in reduced circumstances.—I am, Sir, yours truly,

HENRYenRY SHeill, City Coroner.

John Holmes, Esq., London.

25, Poultry, London, April 7th, 1868.

Mr. Sheill.—Dear Sir,—My solicitor, Mr. Holmes, has just shewn me your letter of the 24th December. 1867. You do not appear to remember me. I lived with Mr. Ward, who went by the name of Parramatta Jack. You must remember me—1 am the party who went out and run the black boy down who had committed an assault on a little child, and who the police could not catch. You must remember making a promise to mo with Sub-Inspector O'Neal, that if I went and caught him you would not summond me at the trial. I am also the party who wrote the letters Mr. Sinclair left in your charge in case I should die. I have no doubt you remember I had to write to Mr. Robinson before you would give them up to mo. There was no telegraph to Hay in those days. The telegraph house or office must have been built after I left. I left just after some villains put your carriage in the river. I remember Mrs. Sheill very well; also her servant, Mrs. Murphy, the constable wife.—Truly yours,

R. C. D. TICHBORNE.

34, Clement's Lane, Lombard Street, London, E. C., April 24, 1868. Dear Sir,—I am much obliged by the receipt of the letter dated 24th December in reply to mine of 28th October. I now enclose you letters from my client, Sir Roger Tichborne, in which he mentions the names of places and circumstances to bring you to his remembrance. Both he and myself will be much obliged if you will have the goodness to reconsider and communicate again upon the subject. My agents—Messrs. Levy and De Lissa, solicitors, of Sydney—have all the printed evidence as yet filed by me on behalf of Sir Roger, and it would be of great use if you would be kind enough to call upon them and peruse the same. Please observe the change of my address, and direct any future letters to myself or Sir Roger Tichborne to 34, Clement's Lane, Lombard Street.—I am, truly yours,

JOHN HOLMES.

Henry Shiell, Esq., City Coroner's Office, Sydney.

Coroner's Office, Sydney, 27. 6. 68.

(Re the Tichborne Baronetey.)

Sir,—In reply to a letter of the 7th April last from your cliont, the claimant to the above baronetcy, as well as in acknowledgment of your favour of the 24th of the said month, I take the liberty of transmitting herewith copies of letters I addressed on receipt of your client's communication to the following gentlemen, viz., Mr. James Forsyth, C.P.J., Hay; Thos. Robertson, Esq., Solr. Dn., and Captain Charles A. Sinclair, P.M. P.M., and of their replies thereto, for your and your client's information. A perusal of these letters shows that your client is in error in his statement to you, viz., that he on a particular occasion left certain letters with me which I subsequently refused to return, and that he had to avail himself of the instrumentality of Mr. Roberston to obtain them from me. I never had such letters from Tom Castro, either from himself personally or through Captain Sinclair, who was formerly C.P.J, at Hay, and Mr. Robertson never had a letter from Castro requesting him to apply to me for their restoration (vide letters from Messrs. Robertson and Sinclair). The second statement in reference to the apprehension of a half-caste aboriginal and the promise made by me is equally erroneous. I was at Deniliquin at the time attending the quarter sessions when the aforesaid half-caste was said to have committed and taken in charge, and therefore could not have given the promise mentioned by your client (vide Mr. Forsyth's letter in corroboration of my opinion.

John Holmes, Esq., Solicitor, London.

The Solicitor-General was about to read the enclosures referred to in the last letter, when

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine objected on the ground that they were not receivable in the present issue. The point, he said, was rather a vital one. There was so much in the Australian commission that might be put in without cross-examination that he was determined to make a stand without reference to these particular letters, because this objection would govern a great part of the case afterwards.

Mr. Giffard followed on the same side, and argued that, as the letters were hearsay evidence, they ware not admissible.

The Solicitor-General did not press the point.

Do you know that Mr. Shiell denied what you said, and referred to Mr. Forsyth, Mr. Robertson, and Mr. Sinclair in corroboration of his statement?—I'm not aware. I don't know who Mr. Forsyth is.

Do you know whether any endeavour was made to examine them under the Australian commission?—I don't think so.

You spoke of a Hampshire man named Slate—when did you know him?—When I went to Wagga Wagga to live.

That was in 1862?—Yes.

Was he one of your fellow-workmen in Higgins's employ?—He was for a short time.

Did he come after or before you?— Before.

Is there any one in England now who knew you in Australia as Tom Castro?—Yes, numbers.

Could you tell me the names of some? —

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I must interpose. Have you obtained them from your attorney in the progress of the cause?

The Claimant: As regards some, Yes; as regards others. No.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I don't want the other side to know who our witnesses are. I have no objection to make with regard to those of whom he has personal knowledge.

The Solicitor General: Very well. Tell me those you know of your own knowledge?—There is Mr. Robert Cook and Mr. John Peters.

Who else?—Mr. O'Mara.

Any one elses?—No: I think not.

Have you seen any others?—There are others here, but there are so many I can't tell.

Give me the names of those you have seen?—There is Cater, but he has returned to Australia.

Give me the name of some persons whom you have seen in this country who knew you in Australia as Tom Castro.

Serjeant Ballantine objected, on the ground that the question was totally irrelevant to the issue, and was a sort of oral bill of discovery to obtain testimony.

Mr. Giffard also objected. His learned friend (the Solicitor-General) must have had put before him some hypothesis upon which the question could be relevant. By the process to which his learned friend wished to resort, a plaintiff on going into the box might be compelled to disclose his brief to his antagonist.

The Solicitor-General contended that the letters were relevant in a case where the whole question was one of identity.

Serjeant Ballantine maintained the plaintiff had no right to mention the witnesses he intended to produce, that being the duty of his counsel.

The Chief-Justice overruled the objection.

The Solicitor-General: You have given me three names; give me some more.—I decline to do so.

The Chief-Justice: Why?

The Claimant: If I did so, the detectives employed by the other side would go and hunt them up. They are always prompting. There is nothing mean or disgraceful that could be done that hasn't been done.

Tell me the names.—I decline to answer.

I must press the question.—I have powerful evidence, and I must consider that there is to be a lapse of four months before I can put them into the box.

The Chief-Justice: You must answer it.

The Claimant: There is one I know of who goes by the name of " Liverpool," but I don't know him.

The Solicitor-General: Tell me some you do know.—I don't recollect any more.

Are there any persons in England who, to your knowledge, were acquainted with Arthur Orton in the bush in Australia?—Yes, there are several.

Can you tell me who they are?—I should be very sorry to. Oh, no. (Laughter.)

Perhaps you forget who they are?—I shan't forget when I get an opportunity of putting them into the box.

Do you know now?—I forget their names now.

Will you swear that?—Yes.

Do you know the names of any persons in England, except yourself, who knew Arthur Orton in Australia?—I can't have all their names.

Have you seen any persons in England who knew Arthur Orton in Australia?— It is a perfect injustice to compel me to answer that question.

The Chief-Justice: What is your answer?

The Claimant: My answer is that I will not answer his question. (Laughter.)

The Solicitor-General: Do you know where you saw them?—I do.

And when?—Yes.

And in whose presence?—Yes.

How many, except yourself?—I really don't know.

About?—There are three here ready to go into the box. There may be more.

Are they in court now?—I decline to answer that question. In fact, I don t know.

Have you seen them this morning?—No.

Yesterday?—I think not.

When did you see them?—Not long ago.

Are they old friends?—I know them to speak to them.

Did you know them in Australia?—One I did, and I only knew his nickname.

Is that " Liverpool?"—Yes.

I have put in several papers which passed between your cousin, Miss Doughty, and yourself. Did you give her any other papers on the occasion of breaking off the engagement?—I don't remember.

Will you swear you did not?—Having no memory on the subject, I am not going to swear one way or the other.

With regard to that important event in your life, do you mean to say you don t recollect what the papers were?—I don't remember anything whatever about the papers.

What did you get for your commission when you sold it?—I think it was £2,400.

What was the regulation price?—I don't remember.

Did you get over-regulation price?—I got over the regulation price because I was senior lieutenant.

Will you swear you got over the regulation price?—I won't swear it.

What is the over-regulation price?—The price over and above put upon a lieutenancy or cornetcy.

Fixed by whom?—By the Horse Guards, I think, or the head office.

What proportion does the over-regulation price bear to the regulation price—or at least what proportion did it bear when you sold out?—I have no recollection.

Was there over-regulation price allowed in your time?—I don t recollect what the regulation price was.

You can't tell me whether, you got over-regulation price or not?—No: in cases of that kind it happens that they subscribe to buy one party out.

I know; but did they buy him out at fixed prices or not?—I can t say. I think there was some rule.

But can't you tell me what was the rule in the Carabineers in your time about the sale and purchase of commissions?—I can't. It was generally done by the agent.

You talked about Dr. Brown as being the Catholic Bishop of Lancashire. Did he do anything to annoy you?—Yes, he has done a great deal to annoy me.

I mean before you went away?—I don't remember.

Was there ever a Dr. Brown who annoyed you or vexed you?—I don't know.

Did you know any Dr. Brown before you went away except the bishop?—I don't think I did.

Did you know the eldest son of Lord Lovat? (I believe the proper title is the Master of Lovat.)—The name is familiar, but I don't recollect him.

I think you have mentioned Walter Strickland more than once?— Yes.

Is he dead?—I think so.

Were you on intimate terms with him before you went abroad?—.No; I used to go about with him a bit.

Where did you go with him?—We went to Portsmouth together on one occasion.

Anywhere else?—We might have gone to London together. The only journey

I remember is the one to Portsmouth and another to Windburn. He used to come to Upton.

You didn't see him after you came back?—No.

Do you know a man named Stone Smith?—I met him about three weeks ago. That was the first time I met him, to my knowledge.

You hadn't known him for years, and well?— Certainly not. I don't think he states that himself.

Did he come to see you since you came to England?—He did.

Who was present?—Mr. Spofforth.

Was Mr. Baigent there?—Yes.

Before he saw you had he written to your attorney?—I believe he wrote to Baxter, Rose, and Norton.

Did you see the letter?—I don't think I did.

Where was it that you saw him?—At the Waterloo Hotel.

Was there another gentleman sitting with you, and did Mr. Smith say, " That can't be Sir Roger. He is much too old and too tall, and has nothing in common with him?"—I'm sure I can't say.

Did Mr. Spofforth then say, " Look at this gentleman," pointing to you; and did Mr. Smith say, " Well, I couldn't swear that that Roger Tichborne might not have developed into this gentleman; " and upon that didn't Mr. Spofforth say, " Go into the other room, and I'll join you in a fewminutes?''—Who were to go into another room?

Mr. Smith and yourself.—What a confounded falsehood! (Laughter.) Mr. Spofforth and Mr. Baigent never left us the whole time.

Did Mr. Spofforth say, " Well, it seems Sir Roger can't recognise you either?"— I don't know about the conversation, but I am confident that neither Mr. Spofforth nor Mr. Baigent left the room.

Did Mr. Spofforth use those words?—I shouldn't be surprised, because I certainly didn't recognise him.

Didn't Mr. Spofforth say, " Don't you see anything in him to remind you of Sir Roger?" and did he say " No, he is unlike in every respect; but if he be Sir Roger he can convince me of it in five minutes?"—I don't know. He told me so many falsehoods that'I declined seeing him altogether."

Did you go into another room, and come back and say, " I have been at Cahir—I see you were right," as if you had gone in for some memorandum?—Certainly not. It is quite impossible to recollect a thing that never happened.

Did he put any questions to you about a woman who had been in Cahir in 1849 1850, or 1851?—A woman?

I don't mean anything disrespectful. I use the generic term. I mean any female sex?—I don't remember.

Was there some question about a nobleman's park?—Not that I recollect.

And after some little time did you say, " Yes, I remember Glengall Park, the seat of the Earl of Roscommon? "—I won't venture to say; but, in my opinion, there was no conversation about the park.

Is there such a place?—Yes.

Where is it?—In Tipperary. To the best of my recollection it is a few miles from Cahir. I think it was to his place General Napier went.

Do you recollect telling him how you used to amuse yourself with flies; and did you say, " I used to stick pins in them? "—I won't say I did not.

Did he ask you to draw on a piece of. paper roughly the outline of the Cahir barracks, asking you to dot down your rooms, and did you say, " I'm not going to do it. I am sick of doing it, and I'm not agoing to do it for you?"—I may have said that. I believed he was nothing more nor less than a spy sent in by your party. Cullington was outside, and if I had known that Smith had come down with him I shouldn't have allowed him to come in.

Did you say, " Maunders could say anything. It's him sent you here?"—I am quite certain I never said one word against Mr. Maunders. I always had the highest opinion of him, and I have it still.

Didn't Mr. Spofforth say to Mr. Smith, " Don't leave the room," and begged him to sit down and have a little more talk?—I believe he did no such thing.

Did you say to him, speaking of Maunders, " I recollect his marrying a second wife. He married Phillips's wife's sister What a falsehood! You are talking about Fraser all the time.

Did Mr. Smith say no such thing?—You have your brief upside down. (Laughter.)

It you think that helps your case you can repeat it.—No; I mean you are wrongly instructed.

Did Mr. Smith get up and say, " I am quite certain it is a waste of time. I never saw the person before; but I'll just put two questions?"—He spoke the truth.

Did he say, " Roger Tichborne had a book of French songs: do you recollect having such a book? ' and did you say " Yes, I had such a book? " Did lie say, "You knew the airs of many of them: can you sing me one?" and did you say " No?" Did he say, " Can you whistle, or sing, or hum a French air, a verse, or a single line, or give the name or the title of any French song?''—He never said any such thing.

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the court re-assembling after luncheon the further cross-examination of the claimant was proceeded with.

The Solicitor-General: You said you would produce the rosary and crucifix which you said Miss Doughty gave you. Have you brought them?—No, I have thought nothing more about them.

Did you leave them behind you?—Yes, with my mother.

Then you found them with Lady Tichborne on your return?—Yes.

I should like to see them to-morrow morning.—Very well, you shall have them then.

Do you recollect sending anything—any present—from Canterbury to Mr. Gosford?—No, I do not.

Who acted for you about the resettlement of the estates?—Mr. Hopkins.

Was he your attorney?—He acted as such.

And you consulted with him about the resettlement?—I did.

Did you write letters or see him personally?—I saw him personally, I think, and certainly had correspondence with him on the subject.

Was the arrangement this, that you should go into the army, or was the resettlement of the estates the first thing?—It was arranged that I should go into the army first. The resettlement of the estates was made afterwards

Was there any arrangement in the resettlement of the estates about your going into the army?—No, I think not.

I mean that the one was not made dependent on the other in any way?—No, I think not.

Do you know a Mrs. Pittingdreigh.?—No.

Did you ever send Carter to her house?—I don't know who she is.

Is this letter in your handwriting?—Yes. it appears to be.

Then I will read it. The letter is as follows:—

June 27.

Mrs. Pittingdreigh.—Madam,—I received your note, and should be very glad if you could oblige me with what you promised. I was sorry I was not in town yesterday when you called; but it as unavoidable, and to-morrow I start for Hampshire. A letter will reach me addressed to the Swan Hotel, Alresford, where I shall be for several days. I am very sorry you spoke to Lady T. about my affairs. You ought not to speak to any one in my house about them but myself. Please send me all the Orton information you can, and if you are short of money I will send you some up by post; but if you can wait till I return so much the better. Don't address any letters to Croydon until you hear from me again.—Yours truly, R. C. TICHBORNE.

The Claimant: Now I know who you mean.

The Solicitor-General: Didn't you know her before?—No.

Did you send Carter to her house?—Yes, on one occasion.

What did you send him there for?—I sent him with a letter for her.

Did you receive a letter from her!—Yes, several.

Have you got them?—I believe my attorney has them.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

Monday Afternoon.

Sir—A person has just called upon me, and wishes for me to accompany him to your house at Croydon. No doubt you wish me to give up a paper left here by a man who said he was your ^brother. This I will not do at present, nor can I accede to your desire to come to your house. I cannot do so honestly. Any further steps I may take in the matter may damage me in the future.—Yours, &c., S. PITTINGDREIGH.

The Claimant: There certainly was no such letter as that. I will swear on my solemn oath that no such letter ever reached me.

What have you done with the letters that you did receive?—Well, I handed them to my attorney at the time.

Now I will read you another letter that you wrote:—

Madam,—Your letter has been received. Yon can rely upon the strictest secresy. I have sent my servant with this note in order that it may reach you more secure. He of course knows nothing of the business he is on. If you can come to Wellesley-villas, Wellesley-road, Croydon, to-day, at three or four in the afternoon, I could see you. I give you the word of a gentleman that neither you nor your husband shall suffer from this interview.—Yours, &c.,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Now is that correct? You have talked about spies and detectives—did you not know that this Mrs. Pittingdreigh was the wife of the confidential clerk of Mr. Dobinson, the solicitor for the defendant?—I did.

And do you mean to say you knew that when you were opening negotiations with her?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You must not put expressions into his mouth. He has never said that he opened negotiations with her. We shall see who did that presently.

The Solicitor-General: But here is the correspondence. I must repeat the question. Did you not know that she was the wife of the clerk of Mr. Dobinson when the correspondence took place?—I should think that I did.

Have you got these letters?—No.

In whose possession are they?—I gave them, I believe, to Mr. Holmes.

Then I call upon Mr. Holmes under his subpœna, to produce the letters.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Mr. Holmes is not here, but will be in court presently.

The Solicitor-General: Had you told your servant nothing as to the business on which he was going when he took the letter to Mrs. Pittingdreigh?—No.

Did she come in the afternoon as arranged?—Yes.

Did Carter bring her on that occasion?—I can't say I know that; he only went for her once.

Did not Carter go twice in one day to bring her to Croydon?—No.

Did she come that afternoon with Carter?—Yes, of her own free will.

Did you not ask her if she believed that Charles Orton was your brother?—No.

Did she not say that she did believe it—that you were like your relations—and that she was sure you were one of them?—She said nothing of the kind.

Did you not ask her for a paper that Charles Orton had left with her?—No.

Did you not say that you knew everything that was going on, for those opposed to you had put detectives on you, and you had done the same with them?—No.

Did you ask her if she had brought the paper with her?—No.

Did you say it would be well for her to give it up, for that it would save you or her much trouble?—No

Did she not say, " Then you seem to know all about the man who left the paper with me," and did you not reply, " Oh, he's nobody?"—No, I did not.

Did you travel in the same train, though not in the same carriage, with her to town?—Certainly not.

Did she not ask you if she should give lessons to your wife, and instruct her?—Lessons to my wife! certainly not.

Did you receive a letter from her two or three days after the first interview?—Yes, I think so.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter:—

South Hackney, June 14, 1867.

Sir,—I believe I would not be performing an honourable duty if I gave you the written statement of Charles Orton. If you would have me believe it to be good for nothing, why are you so anxious to obtain it? Also, if there was no conversation between you and Orton, how have you learnt he came to my house? I have not made up my mind if I can come to Croydon to instruct your wife as some difficulties may arise, and I often think it would be best to decline your promise altogether. At the same time I am anxious to earn money in an upright manner.—Obediently yours,

S. PETTINGDREIGH.

What was the promise?—Well, I must explain it. She came to me and said that one Bromhead had left a statement with Messrs. Dobinson and Geare with regard to my wife. She offered to get it for me, and asked me what I would give her for it.

Mr. Holmes here entered the court, and was asked to produce the letters, which, however, were not forthcoming.

The Solicitor-General (to claimant): Will you swear you gave the letters to Mr. Holmes?—No, I will not swear, but I believe that I did.

Did you give them to your present attorney?—No; I think Mr. Holmes has got them. I showed every one of them to him, and, to the best of my belief, I handed them over to him from time to time.

Was Mr. Holmes cognisant of Mrs. Pettingdreigh coming to your house?—Yes, I think so.

Did you know who she was? Was he aware that she was the wife of the clerk to Mr. Dobinson?—Yes, I believe so.

Do you mean to say that Mr. Holmes knew you were offering the wife of Mr. Dobinson's clerk money?—Yes, for the purpose of getting that particular information.

In your letter you state: " Please send me all the Orton information you can, and if you are short of money I will send you some up by post." Did Mr. Holmes know that you were offering the wife of the clerk money for the Orton information?— No; but he knew that I was trying to get the information said to have been conveyed by Bromhead. It was a very nice trap laid for me, and I fell into it.

Then Mr. Holmes was aware that she had called upon you?—He know that Bromhead had made a certain statement about my wife. Mrs. Pettingdreigh said that she could get me a copy of it for £5, and she told me that on the death of the old Man her husband was to be a partner in the firm, but that matters in that respect had not been satisfactorily arranged; that they were going to Switzerland, and he didn't care what he did. I told this to Mr. Holmes, and ho replied that it was more than he dared do to interfere, hut that I might do as I pleased. I obtained the copy for £5.

Was not your first interview after the 11th June?—No, it was before then.

Did you not send Carter to fetch her on the first occasion?—No, she had been to my house on two different occasions previous to Carter being sent. When she first came she offered me a copy of the document; hut I said I could give no decision about it until she came again. I will swear that she was in my house on two or three occasions before Carter was sent for her.

How came Carter to go for her?—He merely took a note to her.

You state, " Your letter has been received. You can rely upon the strictest secrecy. I have sent my servant with this note that it may reach you more secure. He, of course, knows nothing of the business he is on. I give you the word of a gentleman that neither you Dor your husband shall suffer from this interview." Do you mean to swear that you had seen her before you wrote that letter?—I do. I swear it upon my oath.

Then what was the necessity for saying she could rely upon the strictest secrecy? Was she not forcing herself upon you?—Most undoubtedly she was.

Then why did you write stating that she could rely on the strictest secrecy, and that neither she nor her husband should suffer from the interview?—Well, I meant with regard to the Bromhead document.

The letter was handed to the jury, and Mr. Serjeant Ballantine called their attention to the line in which the name Orton appeared.

At that interview was there nothing said about Charles Orton's information?—Not at the first interview. All that was said had reference to the information said to have been given by Bromhead. I don't remember her saying at that time that any paper had been left with her by Orton; but there might have been something said about Charles Orton's information.

What was the matter about which she was to rely upon the strictest secrecy?—Bromhead's statement, undoubtedly.

What do you mean by stating that neither she nor her husband would suffer from the interview?— I cannot exactly say. She said that Charles Orton had been and given information as to certain facts, and then it was that I sent Carter with a letter to her.

Was Bromhead's statement a written one?—No doubt it was taken down in writing at Messrs. Dobinson and Geare's.

Was there not something said at that interview about Charles Orton's statement?— Very likely there was.

Did she call on the 26th June?—I was told so. I was also told that she had tried to corrupt my servants, and had been shown out of the house.

What promise had she made up to that time?—Only to get me a copy of Bromhead's statement, which I obtained from her by giving her £5. I think that was the last I had to do with her.

The Solicitor-General: Here is another letter. Is it in your writing?—Yes I think that is my signature.

The Solicitor-General then read the following letter: —

Swan Hotel, July 7, '67.

Madame,—I have not received a letter from you, but I will send you some money up by post if you will send me Orton information and all my letters; or if you come to Croydon, I will pay you £200, as I don't wish my affairs to be known to any one but myself. Please bring all my letters to me. I will do more for you than this.—Yours truly,

R. C. TICHBORNE.

Did you get an answer to this letter?—I find it is not in my handwriting. I am positive it is not.

Then why did you say it bore your signature?—Because you put it before me in such a manner. There is a resemblance to my signature, and of course I said so; but I was surprised when I heard you read it. I know that I never wrote such a letter as that. The very words show that it is not my letter. I never offered her £200, for the reason that I had not got it at the time.

The letter was handed to the jury, and the claimant also asked to be allowed to inspect it minutely.

The Solicitor-General: Now here is the answer: —

July 10, '67.

Sir—I received your letter of the 7th July, and beg to reply to it. After having given your subject the consideration its importance requires, the offer of money or assistance is not sufficient inducement to part with the Orton information, as you term it, and your own correspondence succeeding it. The only inducement I could have to give them up would be an honest desire to see justice triumph. My retaining all the documents may or may not further the truth. As I have not determined what my future course of action will be in this matter, still I feel this, that were I to part with them, I should gratify a dishonest desire en your part, while it would be the extreme of dishonesty on mine, and might produce sad results, and have a deplorable effect, You must not suppose that because you have succeeded in hushing up Charles Orton's affair you can obliterate this.—Obediently yours,

S. PETTINDREIGH.

Do you mean to say that Mrs. Pettingdreigh did not send you that letter as an answer?—I mean to say that she never wrote me such a letter—a poor, miserable, crawling little creature that came crawling round my house; she write such a letter, indeed! Why, she would have sold her own father and mother for a £10 note.

Have you got her letters?—Yes. I will find them, rest assured. I will hunt the world over to get them. I can very soon find them.

Then, you mean to say that you never wrote that letter of the 7th July?—I will swear that I did not, and there is no mistake about it.

The Solicitor-General: Well, a little more or less does not signify.—But it does signify, a good deal. As I am a living man, I never wrote that letter.

What is there in Mrs. Pittingdreigh's answer that you deny?—I deny having offered her £200 to return my letters. I am certain I never did that. I don't believe that I had £200 at the time.

That is very possible.—Yes, but it was improbable. I am certain that letter was never written by me.

What other expression is there that you object to?—I object to tho whole of the letter. If I had written it, believe me, I would acknowledge it at once.

You say, " If I could believe you."

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Now, don't indulge in those kind of sneers.

The Solicitor-General: But he has put it upon me.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: If he did not write the letter it can't be his. It is a strange thing that no envelope is produced showing the post-mark.

The Claimant: I am not certain now about the other two letters. I believe that I did not write them. If you will notice, the " o's" and the small " s's" are brought through in a curve and continued, and that is not the way I write.

The Solicitor-General: Then you say that three of the letters are not in your handwriting. You had better look at them. (Three letters were handed to the claimant.) Will you swear they were not written by you?—I will swear, distinctly and positively, that this one (dated July 7th) was not written by me, and, to the best of my belief, the others were not.

Which letter do you swear is not yours?—That in which the offer of £200 occurs.

Will you swear that you did not write the other two?—To the best of my belief, I did not. I have no remembrance of having written them.

Will you swear, as a fact, that you never wrote them?—I never wrote any letters to that woman about Orton. I simply wrote to her about Bromhead. Why don't you produce the letters to Bromhead which I sent her?

Don't ask me questions. Will your swear, on your solemn oath, that you did not write them?—Yes, I will swear that I didn't. To the best of my belief I never wrote either of them.

But will you swear, as a fact, that you did not?—Yes, I will.

The Chief-Justice: Let the whole of the letters be put into the claimant's hands.

The Solicitor-General: What do you say to this one—" You can rely on the strictest secrecy," and so on. Is that yours?—-Yes, that is mine.

You have sworn that you did not write the letter of the 7th July. Did you sign it?—No, it has not my signature. It was the signature that first caught my attention.

Do you mean to swear that nobody else wrote it by your direction or authority?—Yes, that I do. No one wrote it by my authority or knowledge.

Do you mean to say that you got no such answer as that on the 10th July?—I do.

Let me remind you that already, during your cross-examination, you have denied letters that you wrote.—Have I?

Yes, at Arlesford.—Oh, that was with my knowledge. I knew at the time that I was doing so wrongly.

Well, I have reminded you of it, and now I ask you again whether you mean to deny that those letters were written by your authority or direction?—Upon my solemn oath to God that letter was never written with my knowledge or direction.

You mean that one particular letter?—Yes; I believe the others are similar. There is one thing I have noticed. You will find that the dash of the " D" has been attempted twice, and that's a thing I never did in my life.

The Solicitor-General: I find here are four letters altogether.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The letter which the claimant admits to be his I find is written on black-edged paper; the others are not, and no envelopes are produced.

The Chief Justice: Do you mean to say that no portion of these letters is in your handwriting?—Yes, my Lord, Besides, I have a private mark on my letters which is not on them, and which I do not wish to be made public at present.

The letters were again inspected by the jury.

The Solicitor-General: You have sworn that you did not write these letters or sign them. Do you mean to say, then, that the letters furnished to us by Mrs. Pettingdreigh are forgeries?—Yes; they are forgeries, whoever supplied them.

Were no such letters sent by your consent or direction?—No; there were several letters written, but they all related to Bromhead, and contained nothing whatever about Orton. I could not understand you when you were reading them. Why don't you produce the letters that I wrote about Bromhead?

Don't ask me questions. I shall produce such letters as I think fit. Did Mrs. Pettingdreigh go to your house shortly after the 10th of July?—I can't tell you the date at all. She was at my house on two or three occasions.

Did she not tell yon that she thought you were an adventurer, and that she could not give your wife instructions?—My wife instructions! You don't suppose I would allow my wife to enter any room where she was?

Answer my question. — Certainly not.

Do yon mean to say you don't know that she called at your house and saw Lady Tichborne?—I never said anything of the kind, or even hinted at such a thing. I would no more allow her to see my wife than a beggar. Good gracious me? Why, she wrote to me stating that she was destitute—she had scarcely anything to live upon—and that the brokers were in her house! I should like to see my letters to her about Bromhead.

You will see them in time.—Well, produce them now.

Don't argue with me.

Mr. Sergeant Ballantine: Pray don't scold the man. Sir Roger, keep yourself quiet.

The Solicitor-General: Did you, after the 10th of July, go to her house?—No; I never was near her house.

Did you not go there and ask her to give up the papers and the letters which you had addressed to her?—I tell you a never was near her house, and don't even know where it is.

Did you call there more than once?—No, not even once.

Did you not go there, and, producing a cheque, say, " This is signed by my mother?"— I did not.

" And I -will give it to you for the papers which you have?"—Well, you really astonish me. (Laughter.)

But did you?—No, as God is my Judge, I did not. I know of knowing of the kind. Slie never saw a cheque of my mother's in her life; nor have I been, I may say, within twenty miles of her house to my knowledge.

Did you call at her house and ask her to show you a paper she then had in her hand?—Certainly not.

Did you not promise that after she had let you look at that paper she should have it hack?—Good gracious! I never went near the woman's house.

Did she give you a paper?—She gave me Bromhead's statement, but it was when she was at my own house.

Did she give you Charles Orion's paper?—Certainly not.

Did you not fold it up and put it into your pocket?—No, she never gave me any information about Orton at all.

Did she not say to you, when you would not give it hack to her, that it was a dirty. mean trick?—Did she? (Laughter.)

Yes, did she. No, she did not. I think, Mr. Solicitor, you ought to inquire more into this matter for your own sake. (Laughter.)

Now I must ask a few questions about the private mark on your letters. Will you tell me what sort of .a mark it is?—I should be very sorry to do so now, but I have no objection to tell you privately. If I tell you now openly, and in the presence of persons who are here, more forged letters may be produced. I have no objection to impart it to the judge and jury.

You say you have a private mark by which you can determine which letters yours and which are not. Now, what is the mark?—I decline to tell you.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The claimant has offered to give it to your lordship and the jury. Your lordship cannot think it reasonable, in a matter of this importance, that he should be compelled to state what his private mark is.

The Chief-Justice: Perhaps it would be sufficient if he were to write it down.

The Claimant: But if it is going to be supplied to the other side I object to giving it.

The Chief-Justice: You have shown no ground why you should refuse.

The Claimant: I think I have a right to decline under the circumstances.

Mr, Serjeant Ballantine: A great amount of discretion is necessarily imposed on your lordship, and I do not see why he should be compelled to state what his private mark is, especially now that he has found out that several letters which were presumed to be his are forgeries. It is within your lordship's discretion whether you order him to do so.

The Chief-Justice: I am not aware that I have any discretion in the matter. Unless the witness has some legal ground for declining, I must order him to answer the question.

The Solicitor-General: I am quite prepared to allow the claimant to communicate the mark to your lordship, the jury, and the counsel.

The Claimant: Do you include Mr. Bowker as one of your counsel? (A laugh.)

The Chief-Justice: Either the claimant must answer the question or it must be rejected. Looking at the case on both sides, and considering that I am here to administer the law, I do not see why the claimant should not state what the mark is.

The Solicitor-General: I must either press for an open answer or a substitute.

The Claimant: I must decline to answer, because I am afraid that an improper use may be made of the mark. I believe that justice will not be done me if I state what it is. I have confidence in your lordship and the jury, and I will write it down if you will allow me.

The Solicitor-General: Very well, I shall be content to confine it to judge, jury, and counsel. I only wish for the means of testing documents, and do not seek publicity.

The claimant then marked a paper and handed it to his lordship.

The Foreman of the Jury: Is it necessary that the jury should see it.

The Chief-Justice: I think it is essential that you should see it.

The Solicitor-General, after inspecting the mark, produced a letter and handed it to the claimant: Is this a genuine letter of yours?—Yes.

Do you find the mark there?—No, it does not happen to be in this one.

Is it in this? (handing up another letter)—No; but you will find it in nineteen out of twenty of my letters.

Am I to understand that the mark is put in the first or second of the letters of the signature?—In both.

Now, I will take another letter from this pile, haphazard it may be. Do you see the mark in that one?—No.

Nor in that?—No.

Nor in that?—No; it is very strange there should be so many without it.

I will take the whole file and select any one you choose. Here is one from the middle. Do you see the mark in that?—Well, I can't say whether it is there or not. Those are all letters of my mother's.

Then here are five letters written by you to Major Norbury. Do you see the mark?—Yes, it's in one of them.

And here is a letter you wrote to " Dick Kellett." Do you see the mark in that?— It may be there.

Is there the mark in this letter to Mr. Cooke?—No. I didn't say you would find it in all the letters.

Other letters were handed in, but the mark was not to be found, and

The court then adjourned till the next day.

THIRTY-NINTH DAY.—THURSDAY, JULY 6.

THIRTY-EIGHTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, addressing the Chief-Justice, said: My lord, a communication has been made by the foreman of the jury to my learned friend, and through him to me, upon the subject of their convenience connected with the sitting tomorrow. My learned friend says he is not likely to occupy more than an hour in his cross-examination of the claimant, and I expect I shall be very well able to finish the re-examination by the ordinary time to-morrow; but if towards the afternoon I find I am likely to be longer than I anticipate, I will, with your lordship's permission, continue the re-examination to a later hour this evening, so as to accommodate ourselves to the wishes of the jurv.

The Chief-Justice: I have been much better in health for the last few days, Last week I thought I should give up altogether, but fortunately, with the assistance of my medical adviser, my illness has passed off, and therefore, so far as I am concerned, I shail be able to sit as late as anybody.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine:—There was a letter mentioned yesterday in reference to which the claimant said that it "caused him a sleepless night." Mr. Holmes was asked to produce it. He hasn't the original, but he is prepared to produce a copy.

The Chief-Justice: Two letters were mentioned.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We have copies of both, my lord.

The Solicitor-General (to the claimant): I asked you yesterday for the rosary which Miss Doughty gave you. Have you got it?

Mr. Spofforth: I have it.

[A small crucifix, with rosary attached, was handed to the Solicitor-General.]

Is this what you say Miss Doughty gave you?—Yes.

Have yon got Mrs. Pettingdreigh's letters?—Yes.

The Chief-Justice: I may mention now that to-morrow I will ask whether either of you intend to make an application to me with respect to sitting afterwards, I don't want any observations to be made on the subject at present.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am not prepared to make any observation, my lord, beyond this, that whatever has been dono up to this time has been done on counsel's responsibility. Our application has been to your lordship, and has emanated from no other quarter.

The Chief-Justice. To-morrow I shall expect something to be said in the way of an application from either of you, or some statement as to what course the parties to the cause, as represented by counsel, desire to be taken. So far as I am personally concerned I am ready to give up any time, sit any time, and do anything within my power to help and facilitate any proposal that may be made to me.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: We are very much obliged to your lordship.

The Claimant's cross-examination by the Solicitor-General was then continued.

The Solicitor-General then read Mrs. Pettingdreigh's letters, the first being without date or envelope.

Sir Roger Tichborne.

Victoria Cottages, Bentham Road. S. Hackney.

Dear Sir—Drop me a line, and say when I can see you. If you prefer you can come to my house. I have a particular communication to make. If you wish I can bring you a copy of Broomhead's evidence to read. There has been a communication from Mackenzie.—Yours obediently,

S. PETTINGDREIGH.

If you write address in my own name. If you think it won't be safe to como to my house, don't come. Write by return of post.

(Post-mark.)

Sir Roger Tichborne.

Julv 4, 1867.

Dear Sir—It is absolutely needful I see you as soon as possible. I have some startling particulars to say. If you prefer I shall send them by post. Let me know when you return. I am determined to stand your friend, as you are so unjustly slandered.—Yours in haste.

Thursday.

S. PETTINGDREIGH.

Victoria Cottage, Bentham-road, South Hackney, July 18.

Dear Sir—I am induced to trouble you once more. I cannot come to see you, as I cannot leave home. I am in trouble, and my husband is ill—he was not able to go to his office the early part of last week. I have had an execution in my house three days, and am afraid I must lose my furniture. If you would be kind enough to send me what you promised, it would save us: it is for a surgeon's bill. My husband says that you must be prepared to clear up many errors in your affidavits. The ship Bella was not near the spot you say when you escaped drowning. Some authorities from Lloyd's will prove this. They have the captain of the Bella, who knows nothing of the circumstance. Also a very wealthy merchant at Valparaiso, who had travelled with Sir Roger Tichborne, and to whom Sir Roger entrusted some property, will soon be in London. If his statement be true, it is much against you. The gentleman brings the property with him; also two letters written in French by Sir Roger respecting the care of his property; this gentleman saw Sir Roger on board the ship which was lost at sea, I told you about a valuable diamond ring with an inscription; this ring has been traced. The jeweller who made it will identify it. Write by return of post. If you help us we will help you in anything very secret. If I don't pay out the execution by Friday evening, our goods will go.—Yours truly.

(Signed)

S. PETTINGDREIGH.

Dear Sir,—I was coming to Croydon to see you, but I was afraid you would be out, and I did not wish to speak of anything important to any one else. I write for your own good, as everything has been found out, even to your relative's trade and name. I will not say more till I see you. If you come to my house it would suit me better, as it will be difficult for me to leave my children. You can come without being seen, as I now reside in a very quiet part of South Hackney in a line with Victoria Park-road. Take a buss from the Bank, and get down at tho Broadway —and there we are. If you prefer my coming as before, I will do so, but the other way would suit me better.—Yours truly,

(Signed) S. PETTINGDREIGH.

Are those all the letters you have received?—They are all that I can find.

Are these the letters that you called begging letters yesterday?—Certainly.

The Chief-Justice: Where were those letters?

The Claimant: In the custody of my attorney, my lord.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: They are produced by Mr. Holmes, my lord.

The Solicitor-General: You seem, anyhow, to have been in constant communication with the "dirty little thing who crawled about your house."—I was not in constant communication.

And from the 4th July, 1867, to the 17th November?—I don't remember the dates.

The Solicitor-General: I was in error yesterday in saying that Mr. Pettingdreigh was confidential clerk of Messrs. Dobinson and Geare. I find he is a copying clerk.

Mr. Sergeant Ballantine: My learned friend said yesterday that this man was a confidental clerk; he may he equally in error to-day in saying he is copying clerk.

The Chief-Justice: The fact appears to be that he is Messrs. Dobinson and Geare's clerk.

The Solicitor-General: This information about the Bella, I suppose, was got from him?—I suppose so.

Mr. Mackenzie is mentioned in the letter; you knew him?—I knew him as their detective.

He was employed in Australia on the part of the defendants?—Yes.

Those three letters which I read yesterday are dated the 27th June, 1867, the 7th July, and June 17th. Do you mean to swear that the letter of June the 27th is not in your handwriting?—I swear most positively that not one word of it is in my handwriting.

Do you swear the signature is not yours?—Then you acknowledge the body to be a forgery?

Answer my question. Is the signature yours?—No.

Was it written by your authority?—No. I certainly shouldn't have spelt "Tichborne " "bourne." I swear positively that not one single sentence or line or word was written with my authority or knowledge.

Is the signature to the letter of July 7th yours?—No.

Does the letter appear to have been traced?—It does not. No part of that letter was ever written by me.

Or sent by your authority?—No.

Did you give these letters from Mrs. Pettingdreigh to Mr. Holmes from time to time as you received them?—I cannot say whether I gave them from time to time, or all together.

Do I understand you to say that you kept Mr. Holmes aware of what was going on?—I can't say.

Do you mean to say these four were the only letters you had from Mrs. Pettingdreigh?—I told you there might be more, but I don't know where they are. There couldn't be more than one or two more.

Did you give Mr. Holmes Bromhead's evidence?—I did.

Did you receive any other paper from Mrs. Pettingdreigh?—No.

That you swear?—Yes.

And that you never went to her house at all?—That I solemnly-swear.

In her letter she says, " If you kindly give us what you promised, it would save us." What did she mean by that?—I promised her £5, and I gave it to her.

Will you swear you had promised her no more than £5?—I will.

When did you get Bromhead's statement from her?—I can't say. I had nothing else from her after.

You had an interview with her at some time or other about Charles Orton?—I don't think it was ever mentioned, except in those letters

The Solicitor-General then read the following letters:—

34, Clement's-lane, Lombard-street, London, March 5, 1868.

My dear Sir Roger,—I enclose you a copy of a bill of exchange for £265, which appears to have been given by you in September, 1866, to Mr. Stephen Butt. It has been endorsed to Messrs. Peate and Harcombe, who have sent a power of attorney to the same solicitor who sued you for Denison. I have seen them several times, and given every explanation of your position; but they say their directions are positive, and therefore they must go on with the action. Enclosed is a copy of a letter from them, just received, intimating their determination to take the next step. I have seen the original bill, and believe the signature to be yours. Be good enough to instruct me what to do in the matter, for no offer of judgment will be listened to, and my impression is that this is only the beginning of proceedings for every bill you gave in Sydney.—Faithfully Yours.

JOHN HOLMES.

Sir R. C. D. Tichborne, Bart.

34, Clement's-lane, Lombard-street, London, 7th March, 1868.

My dear Sir Roger,—The great labour and anxiety which I have undergone during the past 12 months in the transaction of your business have so weakened my health that it has become an imperative necessity for mo to ask you to be good enough to relieve me from the further conduct of it. Although 1 cannot, in justice to myself or you, continue to bo so active in the protection of your interest as I have been, I shall at all times be most happy to do whatever I can for you and yours. Indeed, nothing will give me so much pleasure as to afford your new solicitor every information and assistance in my power for the purpose of enabling you to succeed in obtaining possession of those rights to which f firmly believe you are justly entitled.—With every good wish for your prosperity, believe me, faithfully yours,

JOHN HOLMES.

Sir R. C. B. Tichborne, Croydon.

These were the two letters that caused you sleepless nights?—Yes.

Those (produced) appear to be three bills receipted by " T. Castro." Are they receipted by you?—Two are, and one is not.

" Received on account £3, for R. J. Higgins. Tomas Castro.'' Do you mean that is not your handwriting?—I do.

They appear to be bills for meat supplied by Mr. Higgins?—I didn't look at them. The one I don't acknowledge is that in which " Tomas " is written in full.

See if you know whether the person to whom the bill is rendered is a customer of of Mr. Higgins.—Oh, that throws some light on it. I see it is Mr. Bromhead's bill.

Do you know whose handwriting it is?—I should think it is an imitation of mine. My impression is it was never written in Australia.

You were manager to Mr. Higgins at this time?—Well, I should like to know what time it was. Let me see the glass, and I will look at it.

All I want to know is whether the signature there is in your handwriting?—I sware it is not. The word " Higgins " appears to have been tampered with after it was written.

Did the dowager Lady Tichborne, to your knowledge, have a good many of Roger Charles Tichborne's regimentals collected and returned to her?—She had nearly all my regimentals.

Do yon recollect whether she applied to some person in 1868 to return regimentals?—Yes; but you are wrong about the date; it was in 1867.

How long did you pay Charles Orton £5 a month?—I think I must have given him altogether about £15 or £20.

Then it was about three or four months?—Yes,

Was it about July, 1867?—That would probably be about the date.

Did you pay him in cheques or notes?—I sent him one cheque only. I generally sent him a £5 note

I observe that in the Chili commission there is a letter of Mr. Holmes's, in which it is said, " Three sisters and a brother of Arthur Orton, being the only relatives of his in this country, distinctly declare that they had never seen the claimant before." The brother mentioned there must have been Charles Orton? Yes.

When did he make that declaration?—I can't say.

Was it made in 1867?—I can't tell.

Have you had any communication with the Duc de Brissac?—Who—me?

I don't mean you individually. Are you aware of any communication between your people and the Due de Brissac?—No.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: There has been some correspondence, and it will be produced; but he knows nothing about it.

The Solicitor-General: Is there a lake within six miles of Ponic?—Perhaps you are going to catch me about a lake.

I am not:— There is water there. I'm not going to say it is a lake, but I believe it is.

Were you ever at Rome?—No.

Were you ever at Valentia, in Ireland?—No, I was not.

Were you ever at Cashel?—I don't think so.

You have no recollection of being there?—No.

Had you ever the small-pox?—I never had.

Is your brother George Orton in this country?

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Is what?

The Solicitor-General: I beg your pardon. Is George Orton, the brother of Arthur Orton, in this country?—Not to my knowledge.

Have you got Arthur Orton yet?—No.

Or any of the crew of the Osprey or the Bella?—Not that I am aware of.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You mean the crew of the Osprey or the survivors of the Bella?

The Solicitor-General: Yes.

The Chief-Justice: You have no tidings of them?

The Claimant: No, my lord; I think not.

The Solicitor-General: When was the rosary given you?—I think in 1850.

Where?—At Tichborne.

Can you tell me at what period of 1850?—I think it was in the commencement of the year.

What do you mean by the commencement of the year?—In January.

This concluded the cross-examination of the claimant.

The Foreman of the Jury asked for permission to put some questions to the claimant before the re-examination commenced.

The Chief-Justice assented.

The Foreman (to the Claimant): The claimant has explained that when taken on board the Osprey he was the only cabin passenger?

The Claimant: Yes.

You said you were the only person on board treated as a cabin passenger?—That is so.

You also said that you were on board three months, during two of which you were ill?—Yes.

On your recovery was any entry in the Osprey s log read to you?—The Osprey, unfortunately, hasn't been found.

Do you remember whether any entry in the Osprey's log, recording the picking up of the Bella's boat and crew, was read to you by the captain or any officer of the ship?'—There was nothing read to me.

You being the only educated person, or a person occupying the position of cabin passenger?— Not on board the Osprey. I think you'll find there were several persons on board that vessel.

But of the crew of the Bella? Were you not asked to witness or attest the record in the log of the boat having been picked up?—No.

Neither you nor any of the Bella crew?—Not to my knowledge.

What became of the Bella's boat? Was she taken in the Osprey?—I think not. I didn't see her on board the ship.

What colour was the boat painted?—Black, I think.

Was the Bella's name on it?—Yes, I think so.

If it had been on board the Osprey it would have been a conspicuous object?—That is my reason for saying I don't think it was there.

Are we to understand that the boat was abandoned?—I don't say so, because I don't know.

Were you sensible when you were taken on board the Osprey?—I was not.

You were three months on board, and the only person of education there. Were you asked by the Bella's crew to communicate with their friends?—I was not.

Did you write yourself?—I did not.

Then do we rightly understand that you embarked on board the Bella for Kingston; that you were picked up by the Osprey, and were three months on board her, bound for Melbourne? and that no efforts to correspond with your friends, or those of the crew, were made by you?—No, there were not.

No vessel was spoken to?—I don't remember any vessel being spoken to?

On arriving at Melbourne did a shore boat put off to the Osprey?—Yes.

And sought intelligence?—There were several boats came.

I mean a boat recognised as the "port boat?"—Yes.

Was there any representation made to the port boat?—I didn't know of my own knowledge at the time, but I believe there will be evidence brought forward that the crew of the Bella was on board when she boarded her.

Were there representatives of the local press on board?—I don't know.

Was there any report made of the incidents of the voyage?—I saw nothing in the papers.

Are you aware that the fittings of the Bella's boat were removed on board the Osprey?—I'm afraid I can't answer that question. I have no recollection of what was done.

You were four days on board that boat. Is it your recollection that the oars and fittings were branded with the ship's name?—Yes, I think they were.

Then we are to understand that you and eight others who were on board the Osprey for a period of three months were maintained at the cost of that ship. Was no settlement asked for, no receipt given, no acknowledgement made to the captain on arrival at Melbourne?—No; because I went away suddenly into the country without seeing him.

I mean in addition to the £17 or £18?—No.

Did you take the captain's address?—No.

The £17 or £18 was accepted by him as a fair equivalent for three months maintenance?—I think not. I think it was merely for clothes, wine and spirits.

But the captain and owners would have a considerable claim on others for the maintenance of eight or nine Europeans for three months?—There is no doubt about that.

Were you asked on board for any receipt or acknowledgement addressed to the owners?—No, because I didn't inform the captain I was leaving. That might have been done had he known I was going away.

On arrival at Melbourne your first visit was to the Customs House?—I believe it to be the Customs House.

You went with the captain?—Yes.

And the incidents of the voyage were recorded?—I don t know, I'm sure.

The captain of the Osprey lodged his crew list at the Custom House on his first visit?—I don't know what he did.

You were present?—I was not when he went into an inner room with another gentleman.

How did the captain explain having eight or nine of the crew of the Bella on board?—Inasmuch as I didn't hear, I can't explain.

When you parted with the captain did you leave him with the impression that you were going to return?—Yes, that I was going to return to the ship.

And you took no actual leave of the captain?—No.

The Claimants re-examination by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine then commenced: I never heard of Mrs. Pettingdreigh until she wrote to me, and I did not know that Dobinson and Geare had any clerk of the name of Pettingdreigh. In fact I did not know any of their clerks. I was living at Wellesley-villas, Croydon, when Mrs. Pittingdreigh came to see me. I had an interview with her in my front drawing-room. She asked me if I remembered a person named Bromhead, and I said I did. She then told me he had been to Dobinson and Geare, and made a most scandalous statement about my wife. She said, " It is something terrible and horrible."

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: As far as you can recollect, when was it that you first heard it alleged that you were Arthur Orton?—The Claimant: I think it was in the latter end of 1867. I heard it through Rous, who had met Whicher, the detective. I had very confidential relations with Rous. My poor mother took a great liking to him; his sons and daughters came to my house. I authorised him to open my letters, and, in fact, I placed as much confidence in him as one man could in another. He knew the whole of my business, and most of the letters read in the progress of the case must have been communicated to the defendants by bim. The declaration made by Charles Orton, and to which reference has been made, was in writing. It was on a photograph. That (produced) is the declaration.

Mr. Serjeant Bellantine: I propose to have it read.

The Chief-Justice: If Mr. Orton is alive. I think it is immaterial.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I think not, my lord. I don't think your lordship, with all your experience, can anticipate what will take place.

After a brief discussion, the learned serjeant withdrew the application, and the reexamination was proceeded with.

I have no recollection of having known a person named Stone Smith. He sought an interview with me. I shouldn't know him if I saw him now.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: You have spoken, in the course of your evidence about detectives. Is it a fact that you have been followed by them?

The Claimant: I have not only been followed by them, but if I speak to anybody they are questioned as to what I say. In fact, I may state that I have been continually annoyed by them since I came to England.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: And as soon as the proceedings are over each day, are you not followed in and out of your own house?

The Claimant: They are at the hotel every morning watching me when I come out.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: It may be convenient to your lordship to know that in re-examining the claimant I don't propose to follow my learned friend's cross-examination. I will tell you the page in the shorthand writer's notes to which my questions refer

Examination Continued: I weighed 26st. 4lb. at the commencement of this case.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: That was before the cross-examination. (Laughter.)

The Claimant: I was weighed about the time I was in Paris after I came home, and I was then 18st. I was weighed in 1865 in Wagga. I weighed then 11st 4lb. I have no tattoo marks about my body, and I was never tattooed by anybody at Stonyhurst or elsewhere. I had never to my recollection any artificial blue or black mark "on my arm, and I never told anybody that I had such a mark. I was never sent to any school up to my leaving Paris. I am quite certain I was never at school with M. Dupanloup, but my cousin, Roger de Brimont, was. Châtillon spent a couple of hours in the morning and a couple of hours in the evening with me. I did not learn English, Latin, Greek, or Algebra. I only learnt reading and writing from him. I did not even learn ciphering. I now remember Lucy Nangle, although I didn't remember her when the Solicitor-General asked me. She had been in a convent for many years. I left Paris in 1845 for the purpose of attending Sir Henry's funeral. I was to go back. My father wished me to be in England, but my mother wanted me to be with her, and there was great unpleasantness in consequence. Disagreeable scenes frequently occurred at our house in Paris in connection with Mrs. Nangle. I associated more with my mother than with my father. I did not understand English when I lived with my father and mother. I spoke French to my mother and the other members of the household. My father's income was about £300 a year, and my mother had the interest on £15,000. There were four rooms iu the house. Three servants were kept, including my father's man. I remember that they lived in the Rue Castiglione, and twice in the Rue St. Honoré. At that time there was an hotel on the site of the present Hôtel de Louvre, and it was to that I referred when I said I could see the Hôtel de Louvre from my window. (Serjeant Ballantine intimated that he would produce an old map of Paris.) My father and mother received very few visitors. My father and I never pulled well, and my father and mother did not get on comfortably together. I never saw much comfort at home. I was anxious to go to England, but my mother was opposed to it. I suppose she thought she would not see me again. (A letter in French, written by Roger Tichborne, from Paris, was handed to the jury and examined, with the view of showing his neglected education at the time.) When I went to Paris to see my mother, on my return from Australia, I was there nine or ten days. I haven't been there since. I was in Boulogne three days. I have taken no pains to reoover my knowledge of French; on the contrary, I avoided it. When I resided with my mother, after my return, I took no trouble to ascertain the scenes and occurrences of my youth. We continued on the most affectionate terms to the last. She wrote to me two days before her death. She was at my house the day before her death, waiting for my arrival from Boulogne, but I missed her, as I was kept waiting for my luggage at Folkestone. She must have died very suddenly, as she wrote to Mr. Rous on the morning on which she died. There was nothing to prevent my learning the whole story of my childhood, if I had desired it. That (portrait produced) is a portrait of my mother taken in Paris in 1867, and that (another portrait produced) is a portrait taken of me at the same time. My mother died on the 12th of March, 1869.

The court then adjourned for luncheon.

On the re-assembling of the court the re-examination of the claimant was proceeded with.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine?—How long were you at Stonyhurst?—Not quite three years altogether.

Am I to take it that when you went there you were entirely ignorant of Latin?—Yes.

Had you ever seen a Greek book before?—No.

And the only language you spoke at that time was French?—Yes, and I only knew that sufficiently to be able to converse.

What was your first course of instruction?—I was taught English first. After I got there I was not allowed to communicate with people in French.

How did you contrive to write a letter—not a school letter?—I don t think I ever wrote one.

How long were you occupied in learning English?—Some time; fully six or eight months, I think.

You were not allowed during that time to speak the French language?—No.

The boys were principally English?—Yes, but there were some foreigners at the college.

From that time did you associate with French people so as to complete the deficiency in the language?—Yes? I went to Paris occasionally. I could speak French pretty well up to the time I left Rio Janeiro. I had forgotten a good deal of it then, but I think I knew sufficient to keen up a conversation.

Where did you meet Mr. Bertram Talbot?—At Bilton Grange.

Who attended you during your illness at Stonyhurst?—A priest, who was a doctor.

Then a communication was made to you?—Yes.

How soon afterwards did you leave the college?—about a month, I think.

Was it intended you should leave so soon?—No.

After you left did you keep up a communication with any of the masters?—No, I did not.

Have you seen the college since?—No; I have not been within miles of it. I have not been nearer than Preston.

Was Mr. Seager at Stonyhurst with you?—Yes.

Have you met him since your return?—Yes, and dined with him once.

Have you taken any means to learn anything about Stonyhurst since your return?— No: I have not conversed with him or anvone on the subject.

Have you seen any book giving a description of the college?—No.

Then you speak of Stonyhurst entirely from memory?—Yes,

It was after you left Stonyhurst that you paid a visit to Bath?—Yes.

What period elapsed before you made preparations for entering the army?—Three or four months. And you subsequently went to Sandhurst?—Yes.

You had a tutor named Mobilly?—Yes.

Where did he live?—At Owselbury. It is pronounced " Husselbury." I believe.

Were there any pupils with you?—Yes, two. One was the Hon. Dudley Ryder; the other I forget. I have not seen either of them since.

For the purpose of entering the army you had to undergo an examination?—Yes.

Were you successful or were you plucked?—I was plucked.

Have you seen the examination papers since?—No.

Have you seen your answers to questions in the examination papers?—Yes.

Then you are able to recognise them?—Yes.

Are those your answers (handing up the paper)?—Yes.

Do the problems appear?—Yes.

Are those all in your handwriting?—Yes.

And made at the time for the purpose of passing your examination?—Yes.

Just read the paper. (The Claimant then read the questions and answers.) Are those the questions that were submitted to you?—Yes.

What age were you then?—Nineteen.

You had been at Stonyhurst for three years previously?—Yes.

And this is the product?—Yes.

I will ask the jury to look at the answers. (The 4th paper was handed to the jury.) Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: There are one or two sums in addition which are perfectly correct, but I wish the jury to see what improvement he made from going to Stonyhurst.

The Chief-Justice: He seems to have gone as far as the rule of three. Has anybody checked the sums?

The Solicitor-General" I have had the courage to look at one of them, my lord.

Mr. Jeune: In those that I have examined I find that the sums in addition are correct; that those in subtraction are correct, only they are copied down wrong; and that the multiplication sums end in nothing. (Laughter.)

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Then it is like all the measures of this session. (Laughter.) (To the claimant): Did you pass the examination in arithmetic?—I did not.

Did you subsequently pass in other subjects?—Yes.

And obtained your commission?—Yes.

Do you remember what you passed in?—I do not.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I will give the answers to your lordship. The first question is, " Has he or has he not been confirmed?"—and he passes in that (Laughter.) Then there is the age—and he says 19 last birthday. His height is stated at 5ft. 8in. In history he passed; in geography he passed: against arithmetic there is a cross; Latin is a blank; in English there is the word " Yes;" German is a blank; against fortification there is " Yes;" and there is also this remark, "Failed in arithmetic."

The Chief-Justice asked for the correspondence to he produced which had accompanied the examination papers from Sandhurst.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine read a letter stating that certain documents relating to the examination of Mr. Tichborne, formerly a lieutenant in the 6th Carabineers, had been forwarded, and concluded with the words, " The arithmetic paper has been sent in its original form, and you are requested to return the same."

Here Sir George Honeyman whispered something to the Solicitor-General, and

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine observed (good-humouredly): For once in your life your supposition is entirely erroneous. (Laughter.) I cannot be interrupted in this way. It amounts almost to persecution. One at a time is sufficient; then I shall be perfectly contented, and will make the best fight I can—

Sir G. Honeyman: I was only whispering to my learned friend. I beg to apologise, if I have done anything to annoy you.

The Chief-Justice: I only want the letter which was sent up with the document.

Mr. Serjeant Ballnatine: I have a letter here dated "Tichborne Park, 19th June, 1849, '' a follows:—

My Lord,—I must apologise for taking tlie liberty of addressing to you this letter, but what makes me take such a step is that I am likely to go abroad before long, and I should be obliged if you would let me know if there is any likelihood of my having any commission

Then here is another letter, asking that the Commander-in-Chief will allow him to retire from the service.

The Chief-Justice: I mean letters that have been sent from Sandhurst,

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am afraid I have no other letters except those which are in possession of the Horse Guards.

The Solicitor-General: The point to which I wish to draw your lordship's attention is with respect to the examination paper in arithmetic. The letter states that it is forwarded in its original form, with a request that it should be returned. The probability is that the other examination papers have been seen and returned.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: My learned friend's construction is utterly and absolutely erroneous. None have been kept except those examination papers in which failure has taken place. We were not able to procure any of the others.

The re-examination was then proceeded with. I believe it was in October 1869, that you entered into the 6th Dragoon Guards?—Yes.

"Where you cognisant of English at the time?—Yes; I could speak it pretty well.

Was any allusion made to your being a Frenchman?—Well, some used to call me "Frenchy," and others " Tich."

Where there many practical jokes played whilst you were in the regiment?—Yes

And where you subject to them?—Yes, to many of them, I am sorry to say.

Can you remember any of those jokes?—I can if you will give me a minute or two to think. Well, I recollect they put some cow itch into my bed.

Have yon ever said a word about that before?—I don't think I have. I have mentioned about the donkey and the things being thrown out of the room.

Do you recollect any other of the jokes?—No.

Did you join in any practical jokes yourself?—No, not in any serious one. I seldom took any part in joking.

You had to attend drill, as a matter of course?—Yes.

Who was the officer who had the most to do with you?—Phillips, the riding-master.

How long did you remain in the regiment altogether?—From October, 1849, till February, 1853.

During that time had you many leaves of absence?—I had a few.

How many leaves did you have altogether?—Two, I think, besides colonel's leaves.

How long were you away on these occasions?—Three months one time, and one montnh another.

Were you ever discharged from your drill?—No; I never was considered perfect in it.

You were a smoker at that time?—Yes.

And Phillips, too?—Yes, he could do his share at it.

How did you escape from drill at times?—It would be hardly fair to tell you that.

Oh! never mind; we are not playing with blunted foils now.—Well, I used to send Phillips a bottle of brandy, and so I got off from drill.

What time generally elapsed before young officers were discharged from drill, ordinarily speaking?—Some were discharged in twelve months or less.

Could you ride before you went into the army?—Yes. The only thing was, that I could not get into a proper officers' position. I could always hold on. I never succeeded in getting the position.

Did Phillips and you ever quarrel?—Yes, we had plenty of quarrels.

Do you remember any quarrel in particular?—I had one with him j ust before left the regiment.

What was that about?—I was away at the latter part of my time for about three months. I had left a bath and other things, some articles of furniture, for my servants, and Phillips ordered them to be taken to his own room. I was greatly annoyed when I returned, and remonstrated with him about it. I told him he had no right to take anything away that I had left there. I went away without making it up with him.

Have you seen him since?—Yes, and I recognised him immediately.

How many of the officers have seen you since you arrived in England?—Some eight or nine, I should say. There's Pinkey, Custance, Heywood, Norbury, Sherston—

That will do. Have many of the men seen you?—Yes.

How many?—I think some twenty-two or twenty-three are to be examined. They are men of my own troop.

When you first went into the army was Murston your servant?—Yes.

And Carter succeeded him?—Yes.

They were your private servants?—Yes.

You had other servants who attended you?—Yes.

Are they witnesses in your behalf?—Yes; all of my servants are witnesses for me.

Have you ever asked Murston or Carter to give you an account of your earlier proceedings in Ireland?—No; I would not lower myself to that. I never asked any of my servants for information.

Have you learnt anything from Carter, Murston, or any one else?—No, nothing whatever.

Have you ever, either from Murston or Carter, taken means to coach yourself up as to what took place in the regiment?—No, I have not.

Had you not dismissed Carter on several occasions?—Yes, and during the progress of this suit.

Is Carter a person of drunken habits?—Yes, but when sober he is the best of servants. He is as good a man with horses as you may wish to have. I have dismissed him several times. He has never been near my horse for the past eighteen months.

Then I may take it that from your servants you have acquired none of the knowledge you have given in your evidence before the jury?—Yes, I have obtained no information from them.

Have yeu taken any means to inform yourself ot the ordinary occurrences, the duty, and so forth, from any books of the regiment?—No, not in the least. I have never troubled myself about them from that time to the present.

When did M'Cann enter your service?—In 1851. He was unwell, and unfit for the regimental duties. In order that he might obtain his pension I took him on, and I requested Mr. Thornby, to whom I sold my commission, to continue his services when I left. M'Cann is a very good servant, and a man in whom every reliance can be placed. He is almost a total abstainer from drink.

Did you like your regimental duties?—Yes; but I did not like the regiment being quartered in England.

And for what reason did you leave it?—I left it when the order for India was countermanded. I wanted to be abroad.

You saw your parents, I suppose, at this time?—Yes.

Had you any desire to go and live with them!—No, not the slightest.

You have said you were fond of fly-fishing. At what age did you learn that sport?—When I was about 16, I think.

Are you a pretty good fly-fisher now?—Yes, I think so.

Did you ever see a fly-rod in South America?—No; they generally use frogs there.

And they are dealt with as worms are in this country?—Yes. 1 never had a fly-rod in my hand from leaving England until I returned.

Now with regard to the sealed packet. Did you ever say anything about it to any living being until Gosford referred to it?—No.

Was there anything in the packet about a church?—No; that is a different thing altogether.

In the conversation with Gosford, did he say that the packet was in his possession?—Yes.

Have you seen Gosford about the court?—Yes, there he is now (pointing to Mr. Gosford).

The Chief-Justice: He has been produced.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Oh, yes, I remember; but it is so long ago. My memory will improve as we go on.

Is the mil in existence ?—Yes.

And it is still used as a mill?—Yes.

Where is it situated?—At the end of Tichborne, adjoining the bridge at Sevington.

Some time ago reference was made to Miss Hales. Do you remember any incident occurring when you were courting Miss Hales?—I don't think you should put it so strong as " courting."

Well, when you were paying attention to her, what incident do you remember?—I used to take the troops to church, and keep them waiting outside for an hour or two whilst I went into the house to see her. (Laughter.)

Did you take them to church or chapel?—To a Catholic chapel which adjoined her father's house.

Have you had any communication with her since?—Yes; I have written a letter apologising for having used her name.

Are you aware that she is alive?—Yes, I believe she is. I have not heard of her death.

Have you taken any means to ascertain the place where you went to buy the horse in Ireland?—Yes? I said it was Kilkenny, but I meant Killena.

Have you obtained information from any person in Ireland by which you have been enabled to frame your evidence?—No. from no one whatever.

You have not been to Ireland either?—No.

You have not taken, as I understand you, any means to refresh your memory?— "No, or it would not be quite so bad if I had.

You have not obtained information as to any of your early transactions from any living being whatever?—No, certainly not.

You gave a graphic account of a certain incident that occurred at the Lord Lieutenant's in Ireland. Was that at ball or a drawing-room?—At a ball.

Whether the sealed packet was destroyed or not—was Gosford familiar with the contents—Yes, perfectly so.

Was there any one except yoursell and Gosford who knew the contents of that packet?—No. nobody else knew of it.

Then, no living being was cognisant of its contents except you and Gosford? No. unless he told somebody.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I now wish your lordship to refer to one of the letters which Sir Roger wrote to his cousin. I think your lordship will find that the words " My dear Kate," occur thirteen times.

The Solicitor-General: The letter has been read, and I don't think we need have it again.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Then I merely refer to it. In one of your Australian letters to your mother, reference is made to the card case at Brighton; and in her reply she intimated that that matter had better not be referred to. When you came home had she a conversation with you on that subject?—Yes.

Did she give you any reason for not alluding to it more particularly in her letters?— Yes.

The Solicitor-General objected. He apprehended what Lady Tichborne said could not now be evidence.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Her ladyship states (in answer to Cubitt), " I have not mentioned it to anybody, and I don't mean to say anything about Brighton, as I think it may perhaps turn people against him; but when you come we will talk that business over. Do not say a word about it, and you had better tell him not to mention it to anybody," &c. Had you any conversation with your mother upon that subject?—I had.

Now, I propose to ask what that conversation was.

The Solicitor-General submitted that such conversation could not be received.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine contended that what passed between Lady Tichborne and the claimant, and subsequently alluded to by her, was legitimate evidence. A letter of the claimant's had been put in, in connection with which he alluded to the Brighton card case; and another letter had been introduced, a paragraph of which he had just read, in which reference was made to that same circumstance. As a necessary consequence of those two letters being put in, he apprehended that he was entitled to carry the matter out to the end, in order that the communication which passed between the mother and the claimant might be ascertained.

The Chief-Justice ruled that the words of the conversation were not admissible.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine (to the Claimant): I will merely ask you this—you had some conversation on the subject?—Yes.

You saw Hopkins about the re-settlemcnt of your estates?—Yes.

Did the correspondence extend over a long period of time?—Yes, it did.

Did you see him frequently?—Yes, at first.

What would be your age then?—Between 20 and 21.

Hopkins saw you a good deal from your childhood?—Yes, he saw me whenever I was in England.

Had you any conversation with him on the subject of your will?—No.

Then you never disclosed a word to him about your will?—No.

Why did you employ Slaughter instead of Hopkins in the preparation of your will?—Because I thought that Hopkins would tell my father about it.

Did you have much correspondence with Slaughter?—Yes; I told him what my wishes were, and engaged him to carry them out in the will.

Mr. Slaughter was employed by many of the highest Catholic families?—Yes.

Who knew of the will besides Slaughter and yourself?—Gosford.

Did he know the object you had in making the will?—Yes.

Did you tell him your motive was to benefit your cousin Kate?—I did; he knew the contents of the will. They were only known to the three—Slaughter, Gosford, and myself.

It was subsequent to this time that you went to visit your parents in Paris?—Yes.

What object had you in taking an excursion to South America?—I wished to see foreign countries and to enjoy sport.

You were fond of sport? Yes, very fond.

With what did you provide yourself for sporting before you went out?—I took with me several guns and rifles, pistols, powder, shot, bullets, and such things.

Can you say where you purchased your rifles?—Yes. I had two Irish rifles, which I purchased, I believe, in Curzon-street, Dublin.

Of whom did you purchase some of the others?—Of Blissett, in Holborn.

Were they ordinary rifles?—Yes.

Were you a good rifle shot?—Not then; I was a fair shot with an ordinary gun.

Did you improve?—Yes.

You are now a pretty fair shot?—Yes.

Before starting you went to Paris?—Yes.

How long did you remain there?—I am still under the impression that I was there for three or four days.

It has been intimated that you might have been there two or three weeks?—I believe I was not there more than two or three days, and I don't want in the least to alter the statement I have made.

When at Havre you sent over for money. In what form did you send for it?—I don't remember, but I believe I telegraphed for it.

The Chief-Justice: Telegraphed where?—From Havre to Paris.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: What was the amount?—I forget

Do you recollect anything your mother did before leaving Paris? No.

Did she cut off a lock of your air?—Yes.

And kept it?—Yes.

And did you, upon your return to England, find this lock of air (produced) amongst letters and other things of hers, with a memorandum upon it?—Yes, it was found amongst her papers by my attorney.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The memorandum is in French. Translated it is this: " The hair of my dear Roger, cut Jan. 28, 1852." Were you then in Paris on a visit, and did you stay about two or three weeks?—Yes.

And it was on that occasion the lock of hair was cut?—Yes.

And another lock was cut afterwards?—Yes (produced)

The Chief-Justice: Where did you get the second lock?—It was found amongst my mother's things.

I see it was found by Mr. Holmes?—Yes. I never had it in my nossesion.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Were either of the two locks in your nossession?—No.

Did you ever open the papers at all?—No; Mr. Holmes, my attorney, found both locks. I never had them at all.

Looks of hair belonging to other members of the family were also found?—Yes.

Have you seen them?—Yes; Mr. Holmes showed them to me.

And he found them in accordance with an order of the Court of Chancery? Yes.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I think, my lord, we may now close for the day; hut before doing so I wish to call upon three persons who are now in court to stand up. They are Mrs. Margaret Jury, Mrs. Elizabeth Jury, and Mrs. Tredgett, in order that their presence may be dispensed with to-morrow.

The three sisters of Arthur Orton, who were sitting in one of the seats behind counsel, were then directed to rise, and some little commotion was caused for a moment or so by other persons standing np at the same time, evidently from curiosity's sake. Opera-glasses were applied to the trio from all parts of the court, and, on order being restored,

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine proceeded: Do yon see those three ladies who are standing up?—Yes.

Do you know them?—Yes.

Who are they?—Arthur Orton's sisters.

How often have you seen them in your life?—This is the second time, I believe.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The ladies may now retire. With respect to the proceedings of to-morrow, I shall not keep the court for more than two or three hours.

The Chief-Justice: If counsel can come to any arrangement to-night with regard to the adjournment, it will be most desirable. It can be communicated to the jury to-morrow morning, and may guide them as to any engagements they may wish to make. I shall take care that the arrangements come to shall be submitted for the con; deration of the jury. It is due to them to say that their position ought not to bo imperilled in the least.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantme: We will take care, my lord, to state what our arrangemeets are with regard to sitting on the opening of the court to-morrow.

The court then adjourned till the next day.

FORTIETH DAY.—FRIDAY, JULY 7.

THIRTY-NINTH DAY OF TRIAL.

In the Court of Queen's Bench, Westminster.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine, referring to a letter read on the previous day, in which the plaintiff used the word " swindled," as applied to the manner in which Mr. Holmes had dealt with him, said that on a closer examination it would bo found that " overhauled," and not " swindled," was the term employed.

The Chief-Justice intimated that he had received a letter relating to the trial which he thought was scarcely worth handing to the learned counsel on both sides. It was very foolish, but at the same time he considered it would be better that they should it.

The letter was accordingly handed to counsel.

The Solicitor-General: My Lord Chief-Justice, you intimated some days ago that the state of your own health, the arrangements that you had made with regard to lousiness, and the state of the law rendered it desirable, or at all events rendered it proper, that the adjournment of this important case should take place about the present time, and that in the then state of the law it should extend to the month of November. Since that time an intimation has been made, at least in one House of Parliament, that it is possible the law may be changed. At present no overt act has fceen taken to effectuate that change in the law; but it is possible that before the 5th or 6th of November, to which this case would stand adjourned, some change in the law may take place. Your lordship was pleased yesterday to intimate of your own mere motion that you yourself were perfectly ready to proceed with this case if an application was made to you by either party.

The Chief-Justice: What I said was that an application might be made by either party if both parties concurred.

The Solicitor-General: Your lordship, I think, ottered an invitation to either side to make the application. The arrangement was made at the time very reluctantly, as I should have wished that the whole case on one side might have been concluded, and that such observations as I may be able to make might be addressed to the jury •fiefore they separated. If that state of things could have been arrived at I should have been very glad fur the sitting to have been prolonged. I found that there was no expectation that that part of the case could be reached before the day up to which the law allowed us to sit. Acting for the best on the part of my clients, and my learned friend acting for the best on the part of his client, it was agreed that the adjournment should take place at the present time. In consequence, possibly, of a misapprehension of what your lordship said, of what has been said on behalf of my own clients, and by the public press and members of the Houses of Parliament, a responsibility has been thrown upon me individually which I am not able to bear, which aio one has a right to place upon me, which I think it is hard and cruel to place upon me, and which I will not, on any consideration, submit to bear; and therefore, my lord, on the part of the defendants, I apply to your lordship to proceed with the present case de die in diem.

Mr. Hawkins: I would not have concurred in making this application to your lordship if the circumstances had heen the same as they were when the arrangement was entered into. AVe all of us feci deeply interested in an adjournment of this sort, ihecause on the eve of a long vacation we need relaxation from the labours of the year; fcut there are occasions when we must make private sacrifices to the justice of the clients we represent, and I for one am ready to do that, and therefore join in the application to proceed with the case.

Sir George Honeyman: All I can say is that if the application is granted those who have instructed ine inust not be surprised if I take any course I may consider right.

The Solicitor-General: I make the application under instructions; but it must not pledge me to a continuous attendance in this case.

Mr. Sergeant Ballantine: I confess I rise with a profound feeling of surprise, and, I must add, with a great deal of pain. There is no alteration whatever of the state of things from what there was when I and all my learned friends, on my own side and the other, determined we should apply to your lordship to adjourn the case to a day we mentioned. Vague observations in the House of Commons and vague pro mises of passing bill- do not, in point of fact, constitute legislation, and I apprehend they will not have the slightest effect upon his lordship's mind. When originally the propriety of an adjournment was suggested, Sir Roger Ticliborne, for reasons which all of us must consider abundantly sufficient, was most un willing that the adjournment should take place, and it was only upon our enforcement that at last he put himself in our hands, and allowed us to make the application, It was only yesterday that, in consequence of the invitation of yom lordship which has been misunderstood, that the Solicitor-General and I had a conference, and we came to the conclusion that there was no ground for altering the arrangement that had been made. I confess that I sympathise with the Solicitor General, who has been made the mouthpiece of others, whilst his heart does not go with the application he makes. I thank my learned friend Sir Gcorge Honoyman, whose whole life has been the soul of honour, for showing how utterly he repudiates the breaking of an arrangement so solemnly entered into. If he had taken any other course, he might have gained credit with those who instructed him, but surely that course would not have been looked upon with approbation by his friends at the bar. For my own part, and with the thorough concurrence of Mr. Clifford and my juniors, and with the permission of those who instruct me—although they themselves would be anxious that the case should go on de die in diem I ask your lordship to adhere to the arrangement that has been solemnly entered into.

Air. Hawkins: I feel it my duty to say that the observations I made were made under a sense of duty and responsibility to my clients and those who instruct me. I feel that their interests require that the case should proceed, and I care nothing for any observations from Serjeant Ballantine, knowinsrthe Quarter from which they come.

The Chief-Justice: I regret very much that such an observation should have fallen from any learned counsel. I think the obser tion of Mr. Hawkins requires an apology on his part.

After a brief interval, during which Mr. Hawkins failed to anologise.

The Chief-Justice, addressing the jury, said: Gentlemen, I regret that the apology is not made. With regard to the application of the Solicitor-General, I will consider it. and give my decision in the course of the day.

The Claimant's re-examination by Mr. Serjeant Ballantine was then resumed: I wrote four letters to Mrs. Pettingdreigh. I posted three and sent the other by Barter. I had not remembered having been bled at Canterbury until M'Cann reminded me. My foot and arms have been examined by Sir William Fergusson, in company with other medical gentlemen. In fact, I have undergone a general examination by him. The private mark in my letters was known before yesterday to Mr. Holmes and to my bankers also. I bank at the Kegent-street branch of the London and South-Western Bank. I was three or four days at Valparaiso. After leaving there I went to Santiago, by what is called the hilly road. I remained at Santiago a few days. Moore was very ill, and I had to leave him there. He followed and overtook me on the Melipilla road. I had hired a Chilian to look after my luggage. I got to know Don Castro by his accommodating me with a bed in bis store. 1 remained in Melipilla a couple of weeks, and then went to Valparaiso. Moore came .- fter me. I then went to Arica, from there to Lima, and then to Callao. I took Jules Barrant from Lima, and then went to Valparaiso. Nobody but Jules Barrant, the guides, and those to whom I wrote knew anything of the aecident which occurred to one of my mules, and about which I spoke in my direct examination. When I wrote to Mrs. Seymour about it I took the account from my diary.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine drew attention to the spelling of the letter to Mrs. Seymour. " Promise " was spelt " promiss," " board " was spelt " boord," " beyond belief " was written " behond believe," " remarkably handsome," was written " remarkebly handsom," and the writer referred to a " troop of muleteers " as a " throop of multees." There were other errors of orthography, such as the use of " tin" for " ten," and " hight" for " height."

Re-examination continued: There is no truth in the statement that I was in Melipilla in 1849. I was in the army at that time.

Would you be surprised to hear—(laughter)—that you were baptised at Melipilla? —I would indeed.

Or that at that time you were so devout that you fell on your knees in the presence of Teresa Toro and Pablo Yoro?—Yes.

Is there a practical truth in the assertion that yon showed tattoo marks to anybody?—I never had any, and therefore I couldn't show them. I was a very carelesss letter-writer; but when I wrote any letter of importance I used a dictionary. I hardly remember being without one except in the " bush." I amused myself in America by shooting wood pigeons and partridges; I also engaged in lassoing tiger cats and foxes.

When you were in America used you to drink?—I am sorry to say I did.

What did you drink?—The spirits of the country. I used to driuk a good deal. I had been drinking very heavily all the time I was in Rio. I was drunk two day in an hotel, and they couldn't find me out. .Mr. Holliscomb, the vice-consul, who knew I was going in the Bella, discovered me. I was not sober when I went on board. I was about " half way." (Laughter.) I had rheumatism at the time, and I was quite lame. The unoccupied cabins of the Bella had been turned into a store, and I was put in there. It was in the aft part of the ship. I remained there until the vessel sailed. I didn't go on deck. I was drinking very hard all the time. I was concealed in the store-room because I had no passport. I had seen Jules Barrant that morning, and told him to bring my baggage. I paid him £9 at the banker's, and you can find that I did so. He didn't bring my baggage, and I have never seen him since. In fact, T couldn't say whether he is dead or alive. Two or three days after we sailed I was standing on the deck, when I heard one of the sailors say to the captain, " The ship is very low, sir." After the pumps had been been tried, the captain said there was no hope of saving her, and gave orders for the boats to be lowered. The boats were accordingly prepared, and provisions and water were put in. I was pretty nearly sober when I got into the boat, but I was suffering from the effects of previous drinking. I don't remember being picked up, but I remember seeing the flag of the ship that rescued us. I have no recollection of being taken on board, or of what occurred during two months of the voyage. I only know from having been told by those on board. The landing-place at Melbourne is called Sandridge. I think I was the first to go on shore with the captain. He was about 5ft. 8in. high, broad set, and of dark complexion. I have never seen him since I landed. My being employed by Foster was the result of accident. I bad not thought of it before. When I got to Melbourne there was great excitement there about the gold diggings. They couldn't get men at the stations to work for less than £3 or £4 a week, and those men had been working for Os. or 7s. I received 30s. a week from Foster. I was never in distress in the colony, except during the three years'drought. I always had what I wanted. During the drought I sold horses for £3. 15s. a piece for which I had been offerred £60. It was at this time that I met Mr. Gibbes. Stock-driving is hard work, hut there is a great deal of fun and amusement in it.

Had you ever seen Guilfoyle or Bogle before you wrote to your mother?—Oh, no. I think I had written three letters to my mother before I saw them.

Did you ever see either of them at Wagga Wagga?—Neither of them were there.

Before you wrote to your mothers did you meet anybody who could have informed yon about Tichborne or Tichborne matters?—Not one. I had never been at Sydney up to the time of my embarkation. I was never in Hobart Town in my life. When I went to Sydney I had no notion of meeting Guilfoyle and Bogle. I didn't know they were there.

Well, now a question about yourself or your double, or whatever they may be—Mr. Arthur Orton. Had you ever seen that gentleman before you went to Australia? I never saw him until I met him at the Boisdale station.

When did you first see him?—In 1855.

Was he at the time engaged at the Boisdale Station?—He was.

What was he doing?—He was stock-driving.

Could he ride?—He wasn't what you would call a rough rider.

Were you and lie alike?—There wasn't the slightest resemblance. He was a very large-boned man.

Do you recollect his feet and hands?— Yes: they were very large.

Were his features large?—The bones were sticking out in his face.

He had high cheek-bones?— Yes.

Was he a smoker?—Yes. Nearly everybody out there smokes.

Have you endeavoured through your solicitors to find his whereabouts?—I have.

At present without success?— I can't say that.

The Solicitor-General: You told me you had failed to find him.

The Claimant: I may have heard since, Mr. Solicitor.

The Chief-Justice: A letter was sent to me the other day, signed " Arthur Orton," and it was dated from London.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: Since this case commenced Mr. Spofforth has read my letters. I never read them.

Ihe Solicitor-General: There are but very few men whom my learned friend could trust with his correspondence. (Laughter.)

The Chief-Justice: Since tho beginning of the case a number of persons seem to have occupied themselves in writing all sorts of letters, indulging in all kinds of fancies.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine (to Claimant): Where did you meet Guilifoyle?—In Sydney

That was before you met Bogle?—Yes.

Had you known him previously?—Oh, yes.

Did you recognise him, or did he recognise you?—He recognised me. I never thought of him at the time. I heard somebody say, " That's him," and I stopped and looked ronnd, and when I went on he followed me. He came and asked me if my name was Tichborne, and I said " Yes." He said, Do you remember Guilfoyle? " and I answered " No," because I thought he meant somebody in Sydney. He asked me if I remembered the gardener of that name, and I said, " Oh, yes." He then said, " Do you know me? " and I said, " I don't think I do." The man was very much altered, and had lost all his teeth.

Did he ever hint a doubt about your being Tichborne?—Far from that. He asked me why I had waited there so long, and when I had explained the cause he said," Oh! I can easily get the money. I will take you to a friend of mine." He then took me to an auctioneer in Pitt-street, and introduced me. He afterwards took me to his solicitor's, in Elizabeth-street, and introduced me there. The solicitor told me I could only get money on freehold property.

Did he ever express a doubt about your identity?—Not the slightest. He invited me to dinner, but I didn't go. It appears he went to a lot of trouble about it—invited clergymen and others—and from that day out he never spoke to me or came near me. Up to this he sent a bouquet to my wife at the hotel almost every day.

How did you meet Bogle?—I met him in the yard of the Metropolitan Hotel, in Pitt-street. I said, " Halloa, Bogle, is that you and he said " Yes."

Had you heard he was in the colony?—Yes, the day previous, from Cubitt. I remarked, '' How strange you are here, and CJuilfoyle had not mentioned it!"

Bogle was the confidential servant of your uncle?—" Yes.

And was having an annuity from the family?—Yes.

Have you extracted from Bogle information by which you have been able to support the claim?—Nothing whatever. I never asked him anything regarding myself or the estates. In fact, I believe he has been in my house for three months at a time without my seeing or speaking to him. He has a room to himself, He is very fond of the children, and goes in and. out where he likes. I never made*up my case from anybody's information; neither have I got information from books or any other source. From the time that Bogle wrote to Lady Doughty to say he met me she never sent him a shilling after. As he had nothing to live upon, I took him in. In addition to his support, I give him a few shillings occasionally for clothes, and I also pay about £6 a quarter for his son's education.

It has been remarked that during the time you were in Australia you made no communication to members of your family?—None whatever.

Do you wish to give any explanation of that?—I thought I would come home some day, and surprise them. Time went on, and, whether it was carelessness or excitement that caused me to act as I did, I can't say. I got into the saddle at six in the morning, and didn't leave it until eight or nine o'clock at night. I used to feel tired, and even on Sunday I was often obliged to go to neighbouring stations. So the time passed on, and I never wrote at all. It was certainly from no motive that I didn't write? it was more from carlessness and neglect. Rosina McArthur, who has been examined for me, has gone back to Australia. My wife discharged her because they could not agree. I found she had been imposing on my mother, and getting money from her. There was a rupture between between me and her on account of that. My mother sent her to Australia.

Did you ever ask her to go to California and settle down with you?—Never. I was detained three weeks in Panama waiting for the steamer. I went on to New York, and remained a month there.

When you arrived at New York did you hear anything about yourself?—Yes. I went to the Clarendon Hotel, and in the smoking room I saw an account in a newspaper, headed " Extraordinary circumstance. An English Baronet a Butcher in Australia."

Up to that time had you any notion you were denounced as an impostor?—No; I was told I should have legal difficulties to contend with, but there was nothing about an impostor.

Had you ever in your life been in Wapping before that night you have spoken of? Never.

Did you know where Wapping was?—I hadn't the slightest idea.

Did you know its distance from the West-end?—I did not.

Did you know its exact situation?—I didn't know where it was at all.

You say that on your solemn oath? —I do.

When you went therein,a cab from Manchester-square, how did you know the direction?— By the piece of paper in my pocket. I looked at it and told the cabman where to drive to.

Did you know the course you took to go to Wapping?—No.

Is there anything connected with the drive that you rememoer?—No.

Were there high walls on the way?—Yes; they were the highest walls I ever saw, and that is what made me notice them.

Do you know the Tower?—I do; I went there to see an officer who was a friend of mine when I was in the army.

Do you know whether in your journey to Wapping you passed the Tower?—I do not.

Do you know now where the public is into which you went?—No; I went ove a bridge a short distance before I got to it.

It is suggested that you must have known Wapping and its locality and the London Docks very well. Was that the first time you were there?—It was the first time and the last.

You say that you know those three females who were here yesterday to be Orton's sisters?—Yes.

Do you deliberately swear that except on one occasion yon never saw them or any one of them?—I deliberately and on my solemn oath swear that I never saw them except on one occasion in Mr. Holmes's presence.

I want to ask you a few questions about tlie circumstances under which you obtained money, and the rate of interest agreed to be paid for it. Had you been to several life insurance offices with the view of having your life insured?—Yes, I went to four or five who refused. One agreed, hut wanted 25 per cent for a year.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine then read Mrs. Pettingdreigh's letter of the 10th of July, and suggested that the spelling of some words in it was abbreviated, as if written by a lawyer's clerk.

This concluded the re-examination.

After the Associate of the court had read the claimant's answer to the suit in Chancery, the court adiourned for luncheon.

On the reassembling of the court after luncheon,

The LORD CHIEF-JUSTICE said: I am now about to dispose of the application which was made to me this morning with reference to the continuance of this trial. With regard to the probable and extraordinary length of this case and the trial of it, an arrangement was made between all parties, on the 20th of June, that the case should he adjourned about the present time. That arrangement was made by counsel representing the parties on both sides, and upon their joint application I assented to it, with the concurrence of the jury. I can very well understand that it might be in the interest of both parties that an adjournment should take place at the present stage of the proceedings, especially as this part of the arrangement was at the special instance of the defendants' counsel and assented to by the plaintiff's counsel. ( mean that an adjournment should take place at the present stage rather than at the conclusion of the plaintiff's case; and it was at the request of some gentlemen here — who said that they had arrangements, as I undertood, in Scotland or the North—that it was decided the trial should not be resumed until Tuesday the 7th of November. All parties, including the counsel and jury—I say nothing about myself—were fully entitled to act, and no doubt they made their arrangements for the ensuing months in accordance with the arrangement which was so entered into. At the present moment the law stands as it was on the 20th of June; and, though a hill has been talked of to alter it, no such bill has up to this moment been introduced into either House of Parliament. It is true that the LordChancellor and the Secretary of State for the Home Department have intimated that it is the intention of her Majesty's Government to submit a bill for the purpose of enabling all the courts to sit between the 10th of August and the 24th of October, and it is possible that such a bill may be passed into law. For the purposes of this application, I will assume that the bill will pass into law, or even thac it has passed. Though very general in its terms it would no doubt have reference especially to the present case, and if passed I should have to consider how I ought to deal with this application. I now proceed to deal with it on the footing that the hill, when so introduced, will become law, and in doing so I must not overlook the fact that this Act of Parliament, if passed, will have been obtained at the instance of those who are connected with the defendants. This 33 disclosed distinctly by Lady Doughty's letter, and also by the petitions which have keen presented to both Houses of Parliament. The question now is, how ought I to act under such circumstances ' If I were to accede to the application of the defendants alone, it would enable them to take advantage of the Act of Parliament obtained at their instance, and for the very object of getting rid of an arrangement which had been previously made on the joint application of themselves and the other side, and agreed to on the 20th June. So far as I am personally concerned in this matter. I have stated more than once that I am willing, and have always been willing, to place myself entirely at the disposal of the parties—by which I mean both parties to this litigation—and to endeavour to the best of my strength and ability to carry out any new arrangement as to the conduct of the trial that may be mutually agreed upon, and in which the jury may also concur. On the 2nd July, in answer to a communication from the Home Secretary, with reference to whether I desired any alteration should be made with regard to the assizes, I wrote to him, stating that If all the parties interested in the matter, including the litigants, their counsel, and the jury, were now desirous of having the arrangement altered, and he (the Home Secretary) were willing to make the necessary arrangement to supply my place on the circuit, I would endeavour, as far as my strength would permit, to carry out any fresh arrangement that might be made, regardless of my own personal comfort or convenience; at the same time I said that I had received no intimation of such a general concurrence as would justify me in making such an application to him, or to alter the arrangement which had been agreed upon by the counsel on both sides. I had previously, on the 28th of June, in the letter to the Lord Chancellor on this subject, with reference to the introduction of a bill, stated to him, also in writing, that if the parties were desirous that the trial should be continued during the vacation I should be prepared to sacrifice the whole of my rest and comfort in that respect, as I had already done in other ways, and to continue sitting as long as my health would permit. I further stated that my health had already given way under the pressure of the case, having been at work almost continuously since the 2nd November, and given up my few days' rest at Whitsuntide, and that I felt there was hut little probability of my being physically able to continue the case; and I added that the counsel, especially the Solicitor-General, must be equally if not more fatigued than myself. So matters stood when the letter was sent to me by Lady Doughty to which I have referred. It appears that the letter was sent—so I assume—without the knowledge of her counsel or the legal advisers of the defendants in this ease, and assuredly it was not within the knowledge of the plaintiff that any such letter could have been produced. That letter disclosed this fact, that efforts were being made on the part of the defendants to alter the arrangements made on the 20th June. On the morning of the 3rd July I called the attention of counsel to that letter, and my brother Ballantine then stated that he could only say they all met to consider the question of convenience, and that they came to a certain conclusion, and he used these words: '' When we communicated with your lordship you assented to the application then made; and I confess it is with extreme astonishment I have since heard it stated that parties in this suit are moving in another direction, with the object of doing away with the arrangement which council were authorised to make for them." My answer to that was that, so far as I was concerned, I would be no party to breaking throughjm arrangement which had been agreed upon by both sides; but that if the parties, through council, made an application to me, with the consent of those who had made the arrangement, I would do my best to carry out the proposal. At the same time I added that I should require the concurrence of the jury before any alteration was made in the arrangement which had been mutually agreed upon. Of course, my attention at the time had been directed to what had taken place in the House of Lords and the House of Commons; and yesterday morning, having referred to this subject, I used words to this effect:—" I intimate to you both that I expect something to he said by both or either of you in the way of application, or some statement to he made as to the course which shall he pursued in the conduct of this cause. I shall submit to the jury whatever proposal you may make. I wish to add that, so far as I am personally concerned, I am willing to sit for any time, and to do anything within the limits of my strength." On the conclusion of vesterday's examination I again urged attention to the matter, and stated to the learned counsel that I should expect them to come to some arrangement this morning, so that the jury might be informed of it early, and in time for them to make any arrangements they might wish. I said that I should place my powers at the disposal of the parties on both sides, and I observed that, if they came to any arrangement, I should communicate it as early as possible to the jury, in order that they might have ample opportunity of considering whether or not they could concur in it. To this Brother Ballantine replied that he would communicate the views of counsel to the court this morning. Prom the commencement of this trial, I believe that every arrangement has been made for the purpose of conducting this trial satisfactorily, and of ascertaining what would he most convenient to all the parties engaged in it. All the ordinary arrangements of the Court of Common Pleas have been set on one side; extraordinary and extra sittings have been appointed for this case; the Whitsuntide recess, when rest is, ordinarilyspeaking, accorded to me, was given up; and I myself have endeavoured, from first to last, to do all that has seemed to me necessary to meet the wishes of the parties concerned. The case has lasted, and is likely to last, beyond any period contemplated. With regard to the very serious and responsible duties which devolve upon me in the Central Criminal Court, I felt that I could not rightly impose those duties upon other judges; but if the counsel in this case had desired it, or if the circumstances, as they existed, had seemed to demand it, I should not have hesitated to avail myself of the assistance which was volunteered by two of my learned brothers, who offered to take any duty devolving upon me, rather than I should be removed from this trial. I have had offers voluntarily made to me by Baron Channell and Mr. Justice Keating to discharge any duties that may be necessary to enable me to proceed with this trial. When, however, it was determined that the sitting should not continue until the 12th of August, I did not feel justified, considering the little time there would be between that and the end of the vacation, in asking that the proceedings should be continued, for the effect of that would have been to impose most serious and responsible duties upon two of my learned brothers. I must also mention that, as regards the assizes, for which precepts had been issued, my learned brothers, Channell and Keating, have voluntarily expressed their readiness to undertake my duties if it should become necessary. I may further state that I have reason to believe the Home Secretary has taken measures to provide for the necessaryexpenses that would be thrown upon my learned brothers were they to undertake my duties in that respect. Under these circumstances, I may say that I was left entirely free to act as circumstances might require. Being in that position yesterday morning, I placed myself at the disposal of both parties, and there was nothing whatever to interfere with my proceeding with the cause if both sides desired it. As I have already stated, every arrangement connected with this trial has been made with the concurrence of the parties concerned, and I feel that I cannot now, against the wishes of two of the plaintiff's counsel—(Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: All the plaintiff s counsel)—and against the wishes also of two of the defendant's counsel, force upon them an extraordinary sitting of the court at a time entirely out of the ordinary course, when every one would be exhausted, or at the instance of the clients on one side, which would be contrary to the distinct arrangements applied for by the plaintiff s counsel on the other, and which were made on their behalf on the 20th June. As regards the Old Bailey assizes, in consequence of the unavoidable absence of Mr. Justice Keating there will be a difficulty in disposing of the calendar there. Now I think if this trial is to bo continued we shall all require some interval of rest. The arrangement which, under all the circumstannces, has occurred to my mind as being the best, and which I now venture to propose for the consideration of all parties, is this—that we should now adjourn; that I should proceed to discharge my duties at the Central Criminal Court next week; and that I should propose to tho Secretary of State for the Home Department that he should make arrangements to relieve me from the circuit. Upon that being done I and all parties concerned should take three weeks' rest and recreation; that we should resume the trial about the 8th or 9th of August if the suggested bill should have passed into law; that we should continue for about six weeks, and then take another short interval of rest; then resume, and continue the trial to the end. I don't know whether this will meet the approval of all parties, but it is the best arrangement I can suggest, especially when the convenience of every person is considered.

Mr. Serjeant Eallantine: I don't think, my lord, that any responsibility ought to be imposed upon the jury. The way I look upon the case is this: An arrangement has been made with the consent of both parties, and by that arrangement I mean to abide I shall certainly use all my humble powers in favour of that arrangement being carried out.

Mr. Giffard: I concur it what the learned Serjeant has said. I think I ought to state publicly and at once that if the arrangement entered into is departed from I shall throw up my brief. I have made engagements with other clients; each man thinks his own case the most important: and I am under obligations to them as well as to the claimant in this case. For these and other reasons, if the arrangement is not carried out I shall certainly cease my connection as counsel for the claimant, and retire.

The Solicitor-General: Your lordship's suggestion, I must say, does not meet with my concurrence at all. It is neither one thing nor another. I made an application, for instructions which your lordship has not thought fit to dispose of.

The Chief Justice: Your clients desire us to sit from day to day. It would be impossible to do that.

The solicitor General: I am not instructed to make other arrangements.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: The arrangement must stand as we made it.

The Chief- Justice: Of course I should not like to deprive other parties of the assistance of counsel engaged in this cause. Their interests must be considered; but I certainly am not 'prepared to sit from day to day, from week to week, and from month to month uninterruptedly. In fact, I could not go on. I felt better yesterday morning, but when evening came I was utterly exhausted. I can think of no other course than the one I have suggested.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: There is now only another matter to be considered before we adjourn. It was my intention to call one or two short witnesses after the re-examination was concluded; but I now find, owing to the extreme length of the claimant's evidence, that it will be undesirable to do so. I think, therefore, that the case, as far as this sitting is concerned, should be allowed to terminate. I sincerely believe that no injury will be done either to the parties themselves or to the public by this enquiry being now allowed to cease. Having said this, I do not propose to make any further observation; but I wish to provide against any accident to which human beings are liable—such as ill-health and inability to attend—and my learned friend and myself have agreed that some provision shall be made that the trial shall not collapse in the event of any unforeseen accident of the kind. I am sure that no evil will arise from this adjournment; but, on the other hand, I can imagine that it will do the greatest possible good.

The Chief-Justice: With regard to aged witnesses, or those who are in infirm health, an order may be obtained at any time for their examination, so that their evidence may not be lost.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: With regard to the adjournment, perhaps the jury, who, after all, are the greatest sufferers, will like to name the day when the court should resume. As it stands at present the adjournment will he till the 7th November.

The Chief-Justice: Then it will be the second sitting or next term.

The foreman of the Jury: We think it right and just that the ease should stand adjourned till the 7th of November; hut, in the event of the bill referred to becoming law, we shall be prepared to sit and try the case as you may think fit. We willproceed with the case from day to day if the parties desire it; at the same time I am desired by my colleagues to say that they admit the justice of the learned Serjeant's remarks with regard to the previous arrangement. That arrangement, we feel, was carefully made and ought not to be set aside, for upon it all our engagements have been made. If it had not been carried out it would have been another addition to our already onerous duties.

The Chief-Justice: As neither side assents to my suggestion, and as no other is made, there is no alternative, and the case must be adjourned. Before we part, allow me, gentlemen to offer you one word of advice. It may seem disrespectful after the very careful manner you have dealt with this case; but as all sorts of opinions have been expressed with regard to this trial—some of them most absurd and untrue—it will be well if you do not pay any attention to what you may hear hereafter. You will hear my opinion at the proper time, and then it will be your duty to return a verdict in accordance with the oath you have taken.

The Solicitor-General, addressing the jury, said, I am happy to he the medium of informing you, gentlemen that communications will be made to you of a more mundane kind before you depart. (Laughter.)

(The learned gentleman referred to cheques of forty guineas each, which had been drawn, by an arrangement entered into between both sides, and which were afterwards presented to the jury as a slight mark of appreciation of their services.)

The Foreman: We trust the world will be charitable to us, and not believe that anything we may hear will lead us to alter our opinion. There is one little matter I wish to revert to. In November I am generally inundated with numbers of summonses to attend on special juries, and I may be fined if I do not attend other courts.

The Chief-Justice: As far as the judges of this court are concerned, no such fines will be imposed on you. I have no power, however, over the summoning officer, so as to prevent your being called upon to serve elsewhere.

The Solicitor-General: Some clause may, perhaps, be inserted, in the new bill exempting the present jury from serving again during the next ten years. (A laugh. )

The Chief-Justice: I express a hope that betore we part me woras wmcn we heard pass this morning between counsel may be withdrawn.

Mr. Hawkins: I spoke under the impression that the learned Serjeant was attacking me in what he said. Mr. Serjeant Ballantine having assured me that he really did not intend the observations for me, everything that I said shall be withdrawn.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: I am perfectly willing that the public should judge whether I intended my observations for that quarter.

Mr. Hawkins: I am bound to state the reason why I suggested tnat tne arrangement entered into on the 20th June should not he considered binding. If there had been no prospect of the law being altered, I would have been the last person in the world to disturb an arrangement of the kind; but I was speaking on the assumption that an Act of Parliament bad been passed, and it seemed to my mind that if an Act wag passed enabling the parties to proceed, it might fairly be argued that they were justified in breaking through an agreement entered into under such circumstances. If the government of the day thinks it right to introduce a bill, and that bill passes into an act, of course we are all bound to obey it.

Mr. Serjeant Ballantine: As I wish to part courteously with everybody, and as my learned friend has stated that he did not wish or desire to break through an agreement solemnly arrived at, I will withdraw any observations which I may have made, and which he may consider as being offensive to him.

Mr. Hawkins: I am happy to hear my learned friend say so. I certainly did tnink that he had made a personal attack upon me.

The court was then formally adjourned till Tuesday, November 7th.

After the adjournment of the court, several of the jurymen, and some of the officers of the court and others engaged in the case, were photographed.

PRINTED BY JOHN HEYWOOD, EXCELSIOR WORKS, HULME HALL ROAD, MANCHESTER.