This is a slightly tidied version of the text from The Proceedings on the King’s Commisions of the Peace, Oyer and Terminer, and Gaol Delivery for the City of London, number 1, part 3, for 1756. I’ve worked from the online text in The Proceedings of the Old Bailey, reference number t17551204-37, and made some corrections after consulting the original text.
 44. (M.) Elizabeth, wife of Curtis Barnes, otherwise Dove, and Richard Jeffreys were indicted, the first for the wilful murder of Elizabeth, wife to the said Jeffreys; and the second for being present in aiding, abetting, comforting, and encouraging the said Barnes to commit the same. Oct. 15, ||
 Hannah Jeffreys. I live in White Hart yard. About 3 or 4 months before the deceased died, she frequently came to my shop, and made very great complaints of her husband’s ill using of her, especially on the 15th of October last; then she came with her face very much bruised and bloody, and said, O madam, I am murdered! I asked her by whom, she said by a creature, or whose, her husband’s cousin, and then shewed me her breast, which looked very much bruised. She desired I would go with her to justice Fielding’s, to obtain a warrant against the person. I said that was what I did not understand, having never been on such an account. To let me see how pressing her case was, she told me her husband said to the woman, Now cousin do you go and get a warrant first, lest some people should advise her to get one for you, and I will say she struck you first, and you must say so too, and we will do for her. Upon this, with great persuasions, I went with her to justice Fielding’s, and from thence I went home again, and my husband was gone out. In a little time after I went to where the prisoner Jeffreys lodged, in Lamb’s Conduit passage. Red Lion square, where I found the deceased, her husband, and another woman; the deceased told me her husband had broke the door to let the woman out, lest the warrant should be served upon her. I asked him how he could suffer so fine and just a woman as this was to be insulted in so cruel a manner.
 Q. What was his answer?
 Jeffreys. He swore she deserved it. I asked him, If he really considered the consequence? Because she had told me before, that he had attempted to cut her throat.
 Q. Did you charge him with nothing but what the wife told you?
 Jeffreys. I charged him with what she told me and another evidence. One thing was, One night, when they were going to bed, he lock’d the door, put the key in his pocket, and, with a case knife in his hand, went up to her; that she cried, and beg’d, for God’s sake, that he would not murder her. He swore he would kill her: he then threw her on the bed, and beat her; then went to uncover her throat, and she shriek’d out, when her landlord came up to her assistance. I told him also of his bidding her go three nights out of the room, saying, Lord have mercy upon me! I think I see the devil before my eyes: pray go out, for fear of bad consequences. There was Mary Louth with them, when I told him this.
 Q. Did he deny it?
 Jeffreys. He made a sort of a laugh at it, and said, She look’d pretty with those marks upon her face. When she was very much scratch’d and bruis’d, he would say to her. You are purely painted. That same evening the deceased came to my house, and complained again of the violent hurt she received, and the great pains in her stomach, breast, back, and belly. She pulled out her breast, which looked black in several places. She then told me, Elizabeth Dove came that forenoon, when her husband and she were at work, and began to upbraid her with something that she should have said to her prejudice. She told her, if she was come to make an uneasiness between her and her husband, she desired she would go out. Upon that Dove told her. She would not go out, except her cousin should bid her. She told her, if she could meet her on the other side of the water, she would do for her. Then the deceased took her gently by the arm, in order to lead her out. Upon that Dove struck her, knock’d her down, fell upon her with her knees, held her down by the hair of her head, tore out her left breast, and cronch’d it in her hand, and beat her in a most unmerciful manner. While Dove was beating her, her husband was at work on his board, who cry’d, Well done cousin. — At her again. — Do for her. — If you murder her, I’ll forgive you. When her husband thought she had done for her, he got off the board, and said, Enough, enough. Then she believed, he imagined she was dead. Then he said, Cousin, do you go and get a warrant for her first, lest some person should advise her to get one for you; and I’ll say, she struck you first; and you must say so too: and we will do for her. She could then hardly speak. I desired her to come and be at my house, till such time I had got her a place, which he himself petitioned I would; but she did not come, I think, till the Saturday after. Thursday, the 16th, she brought home a pair of stays her husband had been mending. She then complained again of the great hurt she had received, and shew’d me her breast again, which was green, black, blue, and all colours. I saw her several times after the 16th: she always made complaint; especially on Wednesday the 29th of the same month, on which day her husband came to me, and beg’d I would go and see her; and said, He believed she could not live, reflecting upon himself for his cruel treating her, and begging God to spare her life, that he might be better to her than he had been. I asked him, If he had had any proper help for her; he told me, No. He said he had given her some salts the day before. I beg’d he would have some proper help for her. He said, he would have an apothecary; but he was afraid it would be expensive. I went in the afternoon. He was gone out. He came home and brought some tea with him. She told me then, she was very glad to see me, and reflected upon me for not coming sooner. I told her, I was in great hopes it might be better, if please God she recovered; and said, He seemed to reflect upon himself for his conduct. Says she, Madam, did he say so to you, that he would be better? Don’t believe him; for; since he came from you, he has used me very ill, and he wants me to go to night to ruffle him a shirt. She spit upon an handkerchief and said, See what a fever I am in; see if I am an hypocrite.
 Q. How did what she spit upon the handkerchief appear?
 Jeffreys. It look’d thick, and was like a sort of a matter.
 Q. Did you observe any blood, or other colours in it?
 Jeffreys. I did not take great notice of it. I observed it to look like thick white matter. Presently came in a woman unknown to me; but I found she was a cousin of his; she began as well as she could, and said to her, I am murder’d, your cousin Dove has done this; presently after that Jeffreys came in. I beg’d of this young girl not to say any thing to him, fearing he should use his wife ill. She said she would not. I made some tea; the deceased drank it in a very ravenous manner, like a poor creature a dying. As we were sitting by the fire, the cousin being by, the deceased said, you laugh because you think you have got my life amongst you; but if you have, somebody shall get your’s; if I die, I’ll lay my life to that woman’s charge (meaning Elizabeth Dove.)
 Q. Did you see him laugh?
 Jeffreys. Yes, I did. I kept my eye a little upon him, and in about two minutes after I catch’d him laughing at her. I asked him how he could behave so before me, to whom he had come with his complaints, and now to sit and make game at her. He said I laugh to divert her. I said what game can you make with a dying woman; fetch an apothecary; I insist upon seeing one before I go away. He went. Just before the apothecary came in, I found by some words she express’d, she was quite light-headed. The apothecary told me he believed she was in a very bad way, and would have let her blood; she was much afraid of being let blood, having never been blooded in her life. The apothecary said he would send her something to take that night, and try what another day would do.
 This Session running an extraordinary length, obliges us to print a Third Part, which will be published in a few days, and in which will be inserted the remarkable and most important trial of the Reverend Mr. Grierson, now under Sentence of Fourteen Years Transportation, for acting contrary to the late Statute for preventing clandestine Marriages.
 I beg’d him to put her to bed; and desired him to help her in, lest the light should hurt her eyes (she having before beg’d of me to persuade her husband to let her go to bed) after which I left them for that night. The next day I was not very well; and on the Friday (I think the 31st) her husband came and told me she was dangerously bad indeed, and quite light-headed; at that time a customer came in (one that had been a shopmate with him, named Richard Atkinson ) who asked him how his wife did; he seem’d to have such conviction upon him as never man had. I repeated to Richard Atkinson in what manner he had treated her; he did not much deny it then, but said he did it to fright her; the other said, if this woman should die, that fright will go very bad with you. We persuaded him to go home and behave well to her while she lived. The next morning, I think the first of November, he came more like a man delirious, than a man in his senses, with great reflections upon himself for his past conduct, wishing the ground might open and take him in — Oh! that dear good woman — The best of women — She whom he had scourged — Oh! that he might be in her place. He desired I’d go with him, which accordingly I did, and found her quite as bad as any woman could be. That fine blooming face was cold, pale, and green; I could compare it to nothing but one of the figures in Westminster Abbey. I had said to him, I will send my own physician; but my husband thought it not so convenient. When the prisoner found I would not send him, he made a great many equivocations about sending for one himself; and said he had not money; besides (says he) the apothecary says it signifies nothing, she is a dead woman. I insisting he should fetch a physician, he went and fetch’d Mr. Eakinside from Bloomsbury-Square, who came and found what a way she was in; he ask’d what was her disorder, and I related to him what she had told me.
 Q. Was this in the presence of her husband?
 Jeffreys. It was, and Mrs. Bates and others. I came home that day, and did not see her till Tuesday the 4th, the day before she died. Then he came to my house, and beg’d for God’s sake, I would go along with him to justice Fielding, to obtain a warrant to secure Elizabeth Dove; I desired him not to leave his wife while she was alive, and said it would be time enough to secure her when she is dead; he said absolutely he must take her up; that the physician on the Monday morning had told him, he should not attend his wife any more, and that he should say your wife has not come to her death fairly, this is not an affliction of God Almighty; and if you are an honest man, you will take care of that woman. I said, has the physician said this to you, he said yes he has, and he has frighted me to death. I said don’t take her up till she is dead; he said, madam, I can’t help it; my wife has spoke something to me this morning, which is like a judgment upon me if I don’t take her up.
 Q. Did you ask him what that was?
 Jeffreys. I did, he said she called him villain, and ask’d him if he would not take up that woman. I said he might do as he pleased, but I would not go. Then he flew to the fire-side, and said, well, God be with me, for take her up I will, and must. Mrs. Munday went with him. That same evening he came to me to go as an evidence to justice Fielding of what she had said concerning Elizabeth Dove. I said she had declared it to others as well as me. He beg’d I would not attempt to call a baker’s wife, for she had told him if she went, she must say as much against him as against Dove; after that I was call’d, and I declared to the justice what the woman had told me. I went to the house, and beg’d to see her; I saw her, her eye-strings seem’d to be broke; she seem’d as it were quite dead, her eyes were closed. The nurse told me she had been dead upwards almost all day. He went home with me and Sarah Munday; when we were in the house he told us he really believed his wife was young with child; and that this woman practises midwifry, and he did not doubt but she knew how to do for her; he repeated several times he believed her to be young with child.
 Q. Was this before or after Dove was committed?
 Jeffreys. This was after Dove was sent to New-Prison; all I can say further, is only his casting great reflections upon himself.
 Q. When did she die?
 Jeffreys. She died the next morning.
 Q. Reflections for what?
 Jeffreys. For his ill treating his wife, and what he would give that he might behave better to her than he had done.
 Q. Did you see her after she was dead?
 Jeffreys. No, I did not.
 Q. Did you ever see any thing done to the deceased?
 Jeffreys. No.
 Q. Who did she say she was murder’d by?
 Jeffreys. She said she was murder’d by her husband’s cousin and whore, and that he encouraged her in it.
 Q. Did she get a warrant against Dove, or against her husband and Dove.
 Jeffreys. Against Dove singly; she did think to have put him in.
 Council. How do you know that?
 Jeffreys. Because I bid her not, thinking it was very hard meddling with her husband, because she was going to a place as soon as she could get one.
 Q. Where did the prisoner live?
 Jeffreys. In Lamb’s Conduit passage, Red-Lion square.
 Q. Where do you live?
 Jeffreys. I live in White Hart yard.
 Council. They are a pretty way distance; are they not?
 Jeffreys. They are.
 Q. Could a person so bruised walk it twice a day backwards and forwards; she must be a spectacle to the people as she went along.
 Jeffreys. So she was, but she did come; it was with great difficulty she could speak, every word she spoke she was obliged to make a great heming to clear herself.
 Q. Did she walk it, or did she come in a coach?
 Jeffreys. I imagine she walked it.
 Q. How long have you been acquainted with her?
 Jeffreys. I think I have been acquainted with her 3 or 4 months.
 Council. I think you say you never saw him strike her; did you ever see any thing but love and affection?
 Jeffreys. I never saw any thing like it; I don’t keep company with fighters.
 Q. How came you first acquainted with her?
 Jeffreys. She came for things that I sell in the shop, as buckram, and other things which they use in their trade.
 Council. Might not he look uneasy because his wife was ill?
 Jeffreys. I did not think him a loving husband.
 Q. When Atkinson was at your shop, what did the prisoner say?
 Jeffreys. Mr. Atkinson asked him how he did, and said he looked ghastly, and very ill; upon that I repeated to Mr. Atkinson what I have now, That if she died she laid her death to the woman.
 Q. Did you mention any thing of his attempting to cut her throat, while he was present?
 Jeffreys. I attacked him before Mr. Atkinson for attempting to cut her throat, and forcing her out three separate nights, fearing bad consequences.
 Q. What did the prisoner say?
 Jeffreys. He said, I will have done with all this tittle tattle, she shall not talk any more of me, for if she don’t die I am determined to get rid of her some way.
 Q. Whether you have not said you would do for the prisoner Jeffreys? (a word you are mighty fond of.)
 Jeffreys. When she declared on the 29th at night, if she died she laid her death to that woman’s charge, she said you laugh to think you have my life, but if I die somebody shall get yours.
 Q. Pray what did you say upon that?
 Jeffreys. I declared before him, if she died I would take care to do her justice and him too.
 Rebecca Bates. On the 16th of October at night, I came to the deceased’s lodging, I knocked at the door, she knew my voice, and said, O Mrs. Bates, I am murdered! She came and open’d the door; who has been here, said I; says she my rogue of a husband’s cousin (Dove) has done it, and the cause was, because I told my husband she had another husband, and he encouraged her in it. He was there, and said he did not. She said you rogue, you dog, you did, wringing her hands and crying. I said, go along with me, and lodge with me. She said, I am going to Mr. Jeffreys. I said you shall not to night, it is too far to go, lodge with me. She came out, and I stood at the stair foot, thinking she would follow me. He came and locked the door; she did not follow me, and I heard no more of it that night.
 Q. What time of the evening was this?
 Bates. This was at almost nine at night. On the 17th I came to her room in the afternoon; she shewed me her breast, that was very much bruised, and her face was scratched. She said my body feels worse to me, I imagine they gave me a blow that will take away my life; but my breast is very full of pain.
 Q. Did you see her breast?
 Bates. I did. It appeared very much bruised, and black in several places. She told me, Jane (her cousin Dove) gave it her. At night she came to lodge with me, and said, he bid her go out, or it would be of worse consequence; I said what can he mean by that. On the 31st he came to me, and said my wife is very ill, and he thought she would die. Sure, said I, you have not let it go so far, and not let any of her friends and acquaintance know. I went to see her, there was Mr. Chandler and Mrs. Smith in the room; when I went in, she did not know me at first, but in a little time she did. I was with her from that night till she was buried. She told me that Dove had one hand in her hair, and beat her on her left breast with the other.
 Q. Was her husband by when she told you this?
 Bates. He was. This was the 31st at night, and he did not deny it, though she mentioned it several times. She said also, my rogue of a husband encouraged her to beat me more.
 Q. Did not you upon the coroner’s inquest say, the first time you saw her was on the 31st.
 Bates. I told him I did not recollect the day, but since I have recollected it.
 Q. from Dove. Did I take up any weapons to hurt her?
 Court. She has not said you did.
 Mary Louth. The deceased came to me on the 16th of October, as soon as she had received her wounds. I heard some body coming up stairs in a very great hurry, she came in, and said, see how I am murdered, look at my breast; it was very much bruised indeed. I said who has done this; she said my husband’s cousin Dove took me by my hair with one hand, and with the other laid hold on my breast, and when I was down kneeled her knees upon my body, and bruised my breast in her hand; and her husband was by at the time sitting at work on his board. Said I, did he not get down to take your part. Yes, she said, when I was almost murdered, but not before; he sat and said, well done cousin, beat her, if you murder her I will forgive you. She said, she believed he did not get down at last out of love to her, but out of fear, lest he should come into trouble himself. That very day she desired me to go along with her for a warrant. I said, I could not then, being busy, but will come to you in the afternoon. When I went he was sitting at work, but the prisoner Dove was gone. While I was there Mrs. Jeffreys the first evidence came in, and taxed him with driving his wife out; he told her it was good enough for her; she need not interfere with other people’s affairs. Mrs. Jeffreys desired the deceased to go home with her that night, and they went out together, and I saw them no more.
 Q. Did the deceased relate the affair before her husband that night?
 Louth. She said, the same before him as she had said at my house. I came there again the Sunday after, she was in a chair by the fire very ill; her husband told her she need not have fought. I saw her again on the next Sunday, she was then so bad she could hardly walk at all. She said she did not know how she should get home, her knees knocked together, her bruises at that time were very black.
 Q. Did you see her after that?
 Louth. I think I saw her on the Wednesday after along with Mrs. Bates, the last evidence. I saw her no more till after she was senseless. She continued all along in the same story, that she had received the bruises of her cousin Dove.
 Q. Did she shew you her bruises on her breast and body?
 Louth. She did.
 Q. Was you often in company with her and her husband?
 Louth. Sometimes once a week, or once a fortnight.
 Q. What sort of a temper had she?
 Louth. I believe a very good temper, without she was aggravated out of it?
 Q. Did you never see her throw knives about?
 Louth. I never saw any throwing of knives.
 Thomas Miles. I lived in the same house the prisoner did. On the 16th of October, I heard a quarrel in his apartment. I heard him say, Hit her; but whether he spoke to his cousin or his wife, I cannot tell. I heard several words at the time; but I cannot say what now.
 James Ayling. I am a journeyman apothecary. On the 29th of October the prisoner came to me, and desired I would visit his wife. I said I would be there in half an hour. I went; and she was very fearful of being bled. Then I said, Stay till to-morrow.
 Q. In what condition did you find her?
 Ayling. She was in a very high fever, and delirious, as appeared by her tongue, pulse, and other symptoms.
 Q. Did you see any marks of violence upon her?
 Ayling. No, I did not; I did not look for any. She was sitting in a chair. I advised her to go to bed. I observed she fetch’d her breath with difficulty. Her husband was there, but did not say what was the occasion of her illness. There was a gentlewoman said, her husband had used her very ill; but that was waved off. She said, she had some bruises on her breast. I saw her three or four times after, and put a blister on, which she ruffled off; I then put on another.
 Q. For what disorder did you order her things?
 Ayling. For a fever and delirium. There was a doctor there the Saturday in the afternoon. I imagine he treated her like a woman in a fever, the prescriptions being adapted thereto.
 C. for Crown. Was it a sympathetick fever?
 Ayling. I know what you mean; but I cannot determine that.
 Q. Do not you apprehend a fever may be occasioned by bruises?
 Ayling. Yes, it may.
 John Simpson. The prisoner and his wife lived in my house; he has talk’d of his wife’s bad behaviour many times, and wanted to part with her. I advised her to go to service. I have often heard a great noise with them, but I never chose to go near them.
 Q. What was the behaviour of the woman?
 Simpson. I never saw any thing of her, but that of a very civilized woman.
 Richard Adkerson. I never saw the prisoner’s wife but once in my life; then I met them both together in the Strand. I was at Mr. Jeffrey’s shop on the 31st of October, when Mrs. Jeffreys and he were talking. He said he wanted to be shut of her. They had a good deal of talk together; but I went to a publick house, and had half a pint of purl. I asked him, if these things were true. He said, What signifies owning any thing? It does not avail any thing. I heard Mrs. Jeffrey’s tell him about locking the door, and sharpening a knife. He said, he did it to affright her.
 The deceased came to my house to pay me a visit. She desired me to come the week after: I, being sick, did not go; but the week after that I did go. She let me in, and said, How do you do cousin, very kindly. I said, How do you do again. She said, Sit down. I did. We talked together, and fell out. She came and struck me three times and fastened her hands in my hair, and threw me out of the chair, and called me her husband’s whore. I struck her again. Her husband said, Don’t quarrel here. I let go her hair, and she struck me again. Then her husband bid me go home about my business. She tore my cap all to pieces, and brought a pail of water, and flung it at me; then took up a chair, and said, D—n you, I’ll knock you down. Her husband said, My dear set down the chair, and don’t kill her. She went out, and lock’d me in, and said, If I cannot do for you myself, I’ll bring somebody that can. I said, For Christ’s sake let me out, for I shall be murdered. He said, He could not, for she had lock’d me in. I said, Unlock the door, and let me out. He took an iron thing, and let me out. I went home. Whether I struck her or not, I cannot say; but what I did was to defend myself, or I should have been murdered by her.
 I was at work when this woman came in, in the manner she has represented. They began to quarrel, and fell to scratching one another. I call’d to them, and said, For God’s sake don’t let us have words or blows here; sit down. They did for half a minute; then they rose up again. This gentlewoman got hold of my wife’s hair with one hand, and her breast with the other. I jumped from my board, and got my wife in my arms, and said to this woman, If you cannot meet without quarrelling, do not come any more. My wife got to the door, and shut it after her, and said, she would go and fetch a warrant for her. I never saw my wife till two hours after that, when she brought a warrant. For my part, I softened and parted them as soon as I could. I did not apprehend any danger at all of destroying life: bruises to be sure there were; my wife’s nose was scratched, and the blood started out of it.
 Q. to Hannah Jeffreys. When the deceased told you of the manner in which Dove had used her, did she tell you she had struck Dove.
 Jeffreys. She told me that upon her taking Dove gently by the arm, in order to lead her out, Dove knock’d her down, fell upon her with her knees, tore her left breast, &c. but she did not tell me she struck Dove.
 Mary Gay. I have been acquainted with Dove, as a neighbour; she always used me handsomly. I never heard any thing of her character, any farther than one of good behaviour.
 Ann Williamson. I knew Dove in Spalding, in Lincolnshire, about two years ago. I knew her twelve years where she came from. She appeared like a harmless, quiet woman, and always paid her way. She had four children, and was a very indulgent wife to her husband. She lived next door to me in Spital-Fields.
 Mary Chipingdale. I have known her eleven years. I never knew any ill of her. I lived at Spalding, from whence she came. The deceased, and her husband, came from the same town. I knew the whole family of the deceased. The character of them all is to be quarrelsome. She had been married three years to the prisoner; and she said to me, when she had been married half a year, that she believed he would make one of the best of husbands; but her temper was such, that she could never let him have a quiet hour. She said, she was of the temper of her family; and they are all very scandalous with their tongues.
 Q. How long did you live in Spalding?
 Chipingdale. I lived eleven years there; and my character, I believe, is very good there, as I never did amiss.
 Q. to Ann Williamson. How long did you know the deceased?
 Williamson. I knew her 12 years.
 Q. What was her character as to temper?
 Williamson. Her character was to be passionate; but I know no more harm of her.
 Q. Did you ever hear her say any thing in regard to her temper?
 Williamson. About a fortnight before this happened, she and her husband were at my house. I said, I heard her husband was cross to her. She said, he was not so bad to her as I had heard; for he was an industrious man, and strove to live in credit.
 John Inglesby. I saw the deceased the Monday after she had received the bruises. She seemed in as perfect health as ever I saw her in my life. She was stitching of stays.
 Q. What day of the month was it?
 Inglesby. I cannot recollect that; but I heard she had before been fetching a warrant for a woman that had beat her.
 Mrs. Workingshaw. I was nurse to the deceased in her illness. She had a violent fever and convulsions. She had some bruises. I was with her from the Saturday till the Wednesday following, when she died. Her husband behaved very well to her. He never left her night or day. She was never in her senses above a quarter of an hour. After she was dead, I laid her out. She had three trifling bruises on her left breast, which, had they been all together, my thumb would have covered. She had no marks on her face. The time she was in her senses was about half an hour after four, the day she died, when I stood on one side the bed, and her husband on the other; then she said, Who is that? He said, My dear it is I Who are you, Jeffreys? Yes, said he. She said, My dear I thought you had left me — Don’t for sake me. He reply’d, I will not. She threw her arms round his neck, and saluted him; and he her.
 Elizabeth Wood. I lay up one pair of stairs above the prisoner. There always used to be quarrelling. I can’t say I ever saw him strike his wife: to be sure she was of a hasty temper. I have seen her throw scissars at him; but I never saw him strike her.
 Q. How was he for temper?
 Wood. I can’t say he was a good temper’d man, for to be sure he did not use her well.
 Robert Lambert. I boarded with the prisoner at Spalding, he was a very good husband I knew the deceased. She was a very ill temper’d woman; I have seen her throw things at him several times; such as tongs, poker, knives and forks, and use him with ill language; but I never saw him strike her.
 Mrs. Chandler. I keep a shop in Lamb’s Conduit Passage. The day after this affair happen’d I said to the deceased, madam, what is the matter with your face, it is terribly scratch’d. She said, my husband’s cousin has done it, look at my breast and see how black it is. I look’d at it and saw three spots. I said, what occasion’d this quarrel? she said Dove’s husband came to me, and I acquainted him she had left a husband in the country; and he went home and let her know it, and she came and used me in this manner. I said who was by? she said my husband. I said why did not you put him in the warrant? she said because he never touch’d me; and he will not let me serve the warrant.
 John Ramsdon. I heard the deceased was ill, I went to see her, as being an old acquaintance. When I came there she was dead; there I found three women, Mrs Bates was one of them (the others I did not know.) I asked her how the prisoner behaved to her in her illness. She said he let her want for nothing; he allow’d her a doctor and apothecary. I have heard the deceased say, that though she was of a bad temper, yet what she ask’d for he did never deny her. I remember Mrs. Jeffreys the witness said once to me, are you subpaena’d? I said yes, I had two. She said, had you a shilling with them? I said I had one with the first, then she said you need not appear in court.
 Q. to Hannah Jeffreys. Did you say as he has related?
 Jeffreys. The day I saw this man, it was said one of Jeffreys’s evidences is abusing a man. I went and desired him to be quiet; the evidence said Jeffreys was a very blackguard sort of a man, and he had subpana’d him, and he had got out of the way of one, but he had catch’d him with another, and he said he had nothing to say; then I said why need you be in such a flurry, if you have nothing to say, you need not trouble yourself about it.
 M. Louth. I was by when these words were repeated. I heard the witness say Jeffreys was a blackguard sort of a man, and he had nothing at all to say for him; he did not know what they would have of him.
 Martha Adams. I have known the prisoner Jeffreys about a year and half; he is an honest man as far as ever I heard. I know his wife and he disagreed greatly. Both he and she bore good characters.
 Mr. Adams. I always look’d upon him to be an honest, good temper’d man; but can’t say how he behaved to his wife.
 Both Guilty. Death.
 This being Friday, they received sentence immediately to be executed on the Monday following, and their bodies to be dissected and anatomised. Dove pleaded her belly, and a jury of matrons were impannel’d, who brought in their verdict not Quick. They were executed according to their sentence.