CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
MUSGROVE, MAYOR. ELEVENTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—An obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, September 15th, 1851.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Mr. Ald. KELEY; Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. Ald. CHALLIS; and Mr. Ald. SIDNEY.
Before Mr. Recorder and the First Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
1766. JOHN MORRIS and GEORGE JONES , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Giblee Habershon, and stealing 1 pencil-case, and other goods, value 14l.; his property: 1 pencil-case, and other goods, 5l.; the goods of Edward Habershon: Jones having been before convicted: to which
MORRIS pleaded GUILTY . Aged 16. JONES pleaded GULITY . Aged 16.
Transported for seven years. .
SIMPSON pleaded GUILTY . Aged 23. JONES pleaded GUILTY . Aged 28.
Trasported for Seven years .
MR. RYLAND conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE MANDER . I am a rule-manufacturer, of 25, Old Compton-street, Soho. On Saturday morning, Aug. 28rd, about 6 o'clock, or 20 minutes afterwards, I was in my parlour behind the shop, and heard some one trying to turn the lock of my private street-door—they succeeded, came in, and shut the door again—I then heard something like a dog, or a person without shoes, going along the passage—somebody knocked at the door, and as I went to open it, the prisoner and another man opened it, and rushed out of the passage—I cried, "stop thief!" followed them, and saw the prisoner taken
—I afterwards went into the kitchen, and missed two gowns, six muslin curtains, and other articles; thirty or forty altogether—I have not seen them since—they must have been wrung out of the tub, and placed ready, and the persons must have entered the house for them a second time—they had not time to do it when I heard them in the passage—I did not miss the articles till I returned from the police-station.
CUTHBERT HACKWITH . I am apprentice to Mr. Mander. I went to work at his house on 23rd Aug.—I knocked at the door about 10 minuteof a quarter-past six o'clock—it was opened by the prisoner and another man, who had a bundle under his arm—they rushed by me, out of the house—I hallooed, "Stop thief!" ran after the prisoner, and saw him taken by a policeman—the other man got away—they had shoes on.
Prisoner. Q. Was the bundle large enough to. contain the missing property? A. Yes; he carried it with ease under his arm, and held it very tight,
CHARLES BOWLES (policeman, C 14). I heard a cry or "Stop thief!" and saw the prisoner running about twenty yards from the house—I stopped him, and asked him what he had been doing—he said he was accused of being in a house, but had not—I searched him, and found this latch-key on bin (produced)—I tried it to Mr. Mander's door—it would not fit—it is a very common latch-key—I saw no other man when I stopped the prisoner.
Prisoner's Defence. I met a man, who asked me to go with him; he took me into a house, and directly we got in a knock came; I opened the street-door, and ran out.
GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY. Aged 15.— Judgment Respited .
MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.
PETER ALISON . I am a porter, in Newgate-market. On Saturday morning, 16th Aug., about half-past 6 o'clock, I brought two dead lambs from the shop of Mr. Firmin—I was employed to do so by William Lowe, Mr. Moyce's foreman—I was to put them into his cart—I did not do so—I hung them on the rails in Newgate-street, as they were just killed, and were hot, in order to put them on the top of the other things when the cart was loaded; but I forgot them, and left them there, and the cart went away without them—I was backwards and forwards in the market afterwards, but took no more notice of them.
WILLIAM LOWE . I am foreman to Edward Moyce, a butcher, of 35, Paddington-street, Marylebone. I was at Newgate-market on Saturday morning 16th Aug.—I purchased, among other things, two dead lambs, on my master's account—I employed Alison to take them to the cart—I made inquiries of him, and supposed that everything had been put into the cart—when I reached home I missed the two lambs—I gave no authority to the prisoner to take them away—they were worth 1l. 19s.
WILLIAM GARRETT . I sell harness in Newgate-market, of a morning. About half-past nine o'clock in the morning of 16th Aug. I saw the prisoner there—I saw two lambs hanging on a rail near my harness—when I was taking my harness away I asked the prisoner to take the two lambs into the market, and take care of them, as I was going—I had nothing to do with the lambs, and did not know who they belonged to—I did not inquire—I told the
prisoner to take care of them till the owner came—I did not see where he I took them to.
Cross-examined by MR. HUDDLESTON. Q. Were the lambt there when you came with your harness? A. No; I first saw them about half an hour.
ore I was coming away.
Cross-examined. Q. Mr. King is a salesman, is he not? A. yes; the prisoner is well known to him—I let him leave them there—he came for them again about an hour and a half after—I did not see any one with him—he said the manwas come for them, and he would take them—I said, there they were, and he took them away—I have known him about the market for three or four years—he was a regular porter in the morning.
GEORGE PERRY (City-policeman, 249). I took the prisoner into custody on 20th Aug., in Newgate-street—I told him he was given into custody for stealing two lambs, and he must go with me to the station—he said, "I own I took the lambs off the rail, and I gave them up to a strange man that I never saw before."
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, September 15th, 1851.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HOOPER; Mr. Ald. CHALLIS; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Fifth Jury.
SILAS HARWOOD (policeman. D 161). I was on duty in the Harrow-road, on 17th Aug., at half-past 2 o'clock in the morning—I saw the prisoner coming up from the Canal-road; he had been several times pointed out to me at a convicted thief—I asked him where he had been, and where he was going; he said he was very drunk, and asked me to convey him home to No. 7, Windsor-gardens—I told him I should do no such thing, I should convey biro to the station—I took him into custody, and he drew a knife across my left wrist—it was a clasp knife, and I believe he had it in his hand when I stopped him—it cut my hand very much—he appeared perfectly sober—I then took hold of him with my right hand, and while I had him by the collar, he slipped out of his coat and ran away—I knew him before—I am sure he is the man—I followed him till I got weak with the loss of blood—he was stopped by a brother officer.
GEORGE M'QUEEN (policeman, D 203). I was on the Canal side, near the Harrow-road—I saw the prisoner, and asked him what he was doing, he said he was very drunk, and wished me to see him home—I let him go on and followed him a few paces; he seemed sober—I went on my beat, and soon after heard a noise—I went to the spot, and found this knife in the middle of the road.
Prisoner's Defence. I was drunk; the officer took me by the handkerchief; I took out my knife to cut my handkerchief; I do not live 300 yards from there.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Six Months.
GUILTY . Aged 69.— Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY . Aged 29.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
BENJAMIN EVANS . I am a china-dealer. There were some premises at 5, Church-lane, Chelsea, on which I saw a bill—I afterwards saw the prisoner at Mr. Mitchell's, a broker, on 9tb July; I said to him, "I understand there is a house to let, and you are referred to; is it your house?"—he said, "Yes, it is"—I said, "What is the rent of the house?"—he said he had much rather let it on a lease as he had other business to attend to, and consequently he could not pay attention to it—I asked him what lease he intended to let it upon—he said twenty years, or any term I thought proper—I asked him what he would require for a lease of twenty years—he said 45l. premium, at a rent of 25l. per annum—I said I had not examined the internal parts of the house, but if they were in tenantable order I would see, and would ray probably agree with him for the house—that was for the purpose of my own business—I am a jobber, and deal in china and glass—I paid 10s. as a deposit, which he requested—he afterwards drew up this memorandum—(read—" By this Philip Fischell agreed to let his house, 5, Church-lane, to Benjamin Evans at the yearly rental of 25l., on condition that Benjamin Evans should pay the sum of 45l. for a lease of twenty years")—I saw the prisoner again on 11th July, and, in consequence of something I had heard, I told him I had heard that the house did not belong to him, that there was a landlord living—he said, "No,"the property was his own, the landlord was deceased, being a very old gentleman; he had lately died, and the property had become his—through the ill-usage of the son to the father, he had left it to him—he had a solicitor with him—I told him I had not the money to spare—I said if I paid him 45l. I should have no money left, the house would be no use to me—he said, as to money it was no object, he was a merchant in the City, and a ship-owner, and he wanted to get rid of the house as he expected every hour to be called to Liverpool—he said the house was his own freehold bond fide property—I believed that the house was his freehold, and paid him thirty sovereigns and a 10l. note, and the 10s. he had had as a deposit—he said money was no object to him, he wanted to go to Liverpool to his ships, and if I wanted money he would lend me 20l. or 30l. directly I paid the 40l., and on a future day I could have a hundred or two on a per centage, but after had paid him the money I could scarcely get a receipt—instead of handind me 20l. or 30l., he packed up his papers and went into Mr. Mitchell's—I folllowed
him, and would not let him go except I had some acknowledgment for my money—at length he went into a stationer's shop in Sloane-street; he there got a receipt—it was drawn up by Mr. Keach, the stationer, and he signed it, and gave it to me—"Received, July 11, 1851, of Mr. Benjamin Evans, 40l., as Per bill delivered. Philip Fischell"—I went into the house on 16th July—I was let in in the evening, and early in the morning of the 17th, I had a communication from the neighbours—they recommended me to go to Mr. Clark's in Weilclose-square, and I did so—on the 14th the prisoner gave me possession—he came and looked at the house; he found it was in a bad state, and promised to put it in thorough tenantable repair—I do not remember that he said anything else, but on the 17th, after I had seen Mr. Clark, he said, "Your agreement for the house it no use, you must hate a further agreement to do you good, for I mean to do you good"—I said, "Why?"—he said, "I tell you it is not, you must have a lease which I will mot you for ninety years, but I must have more money"—I laid, "Then I am a rained man, you have got all my money"—he said, "For a lease I must have 80l. more"—I said, "That will make 120l.; it is a very dear house"—he said, "It will pay you well; I can find you a brewer who will take it off your hands"—I did not pay that other money—I still hold the house, but I can do no business.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. When did you say you first went about the house? A. On 9th July in this year—I went first to Mr. Mitchell, a broker, I was told the landlord could be found there—I parted with the 40l. on llth of July—there was some gentleman present in a public-house who witnessed the agreement—after this there was a paper drawn up, and read over, and signed and witnessed—the defendant had it given up to him at the Court, before the Magistrate—the Magistrate dismissed this charge, on account of my solicitor, not being present—I was examined, and told the same tale I have to-day to the best of my knowledge—all my papers were produced, and the case was dismissed—my attorney was not there on the second case—the defendant gave me in charge for attempting to defraud him—that was before I gave him in charge—I got this bill before the Grand jury—I took the defendant the first time I could find or hear of him—I took him on a Saturday—I did not desire my attorney to oppose his being admitted to bail on Saturday, in order that he might be locked up the whole of Sunday—my attorney was not here—I might instruct some one to oppose his being admitted to bail—I do not positively remember it—I might have forgotten it—I paid no fee for that purpose—I have paid no fee at all; I have lost all my money—I do not know whether the fee was paid—the defendant did not inform roe that he had a lease of twenty—on e years from Mr. Lyall, of Brighton—Samuel Wilson, a shoemaker, was tenant of mine in that house for three weeks, and I received rent from him—I applied to him about the shop—he did not tell me that Mr. Fischell was the leaseholder—he told me the landlord could grant me a lease—he sent me to Mr. Mitchell's—after I had paid the 40l., and when I found things were as they were, I asked Mr. Wilson Aether Mr. Fischell was the ground-landlord—on 17th or 18th July, he told me that Mr. Fischell had the lease for twenty—on e years—after I had paid the 40l. an agreement was signed, but it was not on stamped paper—a copy of it was given to me—the person who was asked by Mr. Fischell to witness the agreement read it over—he did not say in my hearing that it appeared Mr. Fischell was granting me an under-lease—I heard nothing whatever about an under-lease—after he had given the first agreement he said there must be another agreement, and he tore the first up, and another was given—the defendant is a merchant, a ship-owner, and a money-lender; he speaks broken English—Mr. Lyall's
name was not mentioned to me as the superior landlord till 21st July—I paid the deposit of 10s. on 9th July—I then went back to if Wilson, and told him I had paid the deposit, and told him that I had to meet Mr. Fischell on the morning following—he did not tell me that Mr. Lyall had a son in Thorold-square—I went to Thorold-square on the 11th, but not by his direction—I had heard from other persons that the house had originilally belonged to Mr. Lyall—I went to Thorold-square, but I did not see any one, and after that I paid the 40l.—I have not given up possession of the house—there are fixtures in it—there are parts of grates in it—Wilson paid me 3s. a week for two rooms, which he said he had paid before—before I lived in that house I was residing at 27, Glasshouse-street, Vauxhall—I was merely stopping there, I had come to see the Exhibition, and see some of my friends—I had been stopping there nearly a fortnight—I had before that been partly at Portsmouth and partly at Southampton—my relations live at Portsmouth—I came last from Southampton; I had a shop there, and had been dealing is glass and china—I kept a public-house in Southampton for five yean—left Southampton because things were so bad I could scarcely get a living—I carried on business at Portsmouth in the iron-foundry, my own profession—I have never been in any other trade, to my knowledge—during part of the time I was a publican I dealt in coals—I dealt in nothing else, to my knowledge—before that I had lived in London, and worked as journeyman for many years in the iron-foundry business—Mr. Fischell had a solicitor present—he did not suggest that I should have one—they wished to enforce the agreement on me—it was read over to me—I did not say I would have nothing to do with lawyers—Mr. Fischell said, "I see you don't like lawyers"—Mr. Candy was present during the time I paid the 40l.; he was called as a witness—Mr. Mitchell was called as a witness 0on 9th July—he was in and out of his shop.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. How long were you a journeyman in London? A. Sixteen years and a half—the house I kept in Southampton was a licensed house, and I kept the license the whole time I was there—I gave it up last March twelve months—since then I have been dealing in china—I am fifty—on e years old—I told the prisoner I had got 57l. in all—this came from the business I was in, and was the result of my savings—I knew nothing of Wilson—he was in the house taking charge of it—I found him there—the paper that was signed and given to me, I believe Mr. Fischell has—he tore one up, but the paper given to me he had.
GEORGE SHEPHERD . I am a greengrocer. I was present on 11th July, in Church-lane, Chelsea, and beard Mr. Fischell say the house was his own freehold property. Mr. Evans and Mr. Fischell were speaking about the house.
Cross-examined. Q. You had never seen Mr. Evans before? A. No; I thought they were both in one party, to let the house—I was standing opposite the door, waiting there, to take some things away for a painter—I had my cart and horse at the stable—I had been waiting about an hour—I was standing opposite, and heard Mr. Fischeli say this—Mr. Fischell has never made any complaint against me—I had one against him—I was not fined a 5l.-note—I mean to swear that—I was never knocked down at any court whatever, nor fined a shilling—I and my father have been forty years in that street—I have been twenty years paying rent and taxes—I was not charged, with others, by Mr. Fischell, before the Magistrate—he made it up withsome one, not with me—they paid something; I did not—I was not charged, with others, before the Magistrate, for breaking and entering this house, and assaulting Mr. Fischell—I appeared in a police-court when I had Mr. Fischell
there—that was for tearing his clothes, he said—the Magistrate did not bear the charge—the lawyer and this gentleman made it up, with two other parties—I am not hound to tell who they were—there were seven of us charged—I never went in before the Magistrate—the lawyer gave him so much money, and it was never heard of—I was never before a Magistrate for anything—they call me Jack Shepherd—if you go on the water you will hear my name—I never represented myself to any one to be a sheriff's-officer—I never represented myself to Mr. Fischell as having a warrant to apprehend him—I am an officer for passing persons on to the workhouse of St. Luke, Cheisea.
Q., Were you brought before the Magistrate for falsely representing yourself to be a sheriff's-officer or a police-officer? A. I told the Magistrate I was an officer—I did not say I was an officer, I said I came from the office in Queen-square, to know if Mr. Fischell lived there—I said that to the lady who keeps the house—the Magistrate did have me up; I told him I was an officer, and he said no more—the Magistrate said I ought to be careful what I said—he did not threaten to fine me if I was brought again on the same charge; nothing of the kind.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You had not known the prosecutor before that day? A. No; I never saw him before—the time I went from Queen-square office was about this affair—I have never been locked up in my life.
WILLIAM CLARK . I am a brewer, and live in Wellclose-square. I know the house, 5, Church-lane; it belongs to the executors of Mr. John Lyall, of whom I am one—the defendant has no leasehold of those premises—he held an agreement from me, which he obtained by false representations—he has no power, that I know of, to grant a lease—he has no freehold interest in these premises—I am executor to Mr. Lyall—the will is not yet proved—I believe the prosecutor is in possession of the house.
Cross-examined. Q. You are acting as executor? A. Yes; but I have hardly commenced, Mr. Lyall having been dead only a few days—there is a will which includes this property—this letter (looking at one) is in the handwriting of Mr. Lyall; it is addressed to me, but was never delivered to me—this letter (another) is my writing—this is the agreement entered into by me on behalf of Mr. Lyall—Mr. Fischell has paid me 4l. 18s. out of five quarters' rent—I am not aware whether any portion has been paid by his payment of taxes.
Q. Look at this paper, and tell me whether be did not pay you 6l. 5s. on 9th Dec? A. This is my writing; he paid me 4l. 18s., and I allowed him 1l. 7s., the money paid for taxes—he wat to pay all taxes but the property-tax—I know of no fixtures being put in by him—the grates are mine—there we no gas-fittings that I am aware of.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Is that the whole money you have received since he occupied the premises? A. Yes, since April, 1850; I have written to him, and had letters returned—I never could get his address.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you employed by Mr. Fischell to let this house? A. No, never; I witnessed this memorandum—I should think I have known Mr. Fischell about twelve months—I never let houses for him—I am a furniture-dealer—it is part of my occupation to let houses—I know nothing about this house—I had nothing to do with it—I never heard anything against Mr. Fischell's character.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Have you known anything at all about him? A.
No, only in this transaction; I heard he was a respectable man—I have not heard what he was, or whether he carries on any business, or where he carries it on.
Witnesses for the Defence.
SAMUELWILSON. I am a boot and shoemaker. In July I occupied the house, No. 5, Church-lane, Chelsea—I remember Mr. Evans calling to inquire whether the house was to let—I told him, "Yes"—I showed him first about the shop, and he then wanted to know if the whole house was to let, and if I thought the landlord would let it on lease—I told him the landlord was Mr. Fischell, and if be went to Mr. Mitchell, the furnjlure-broker, he would get information—I told him one Mr. Lyall was the ground-landlord, and Mr.Fischell only held the lease—he asked me how long he had held the lease—I told him, "A little better than twelve months"—he asked me what rent I was paying—I told him, "30l. a year"—he asked if I knew what would be required by Mr. Fischell for a lease—I said I knew he had offered it to us for 45l—he said he should go and see Mr. Fischell, and would give me a call when he came back—I saw him again the same day—he said he had seen Mr. Fischell—I said, "How did you get on?"—he said, "I don't know; I think I shall have the house; he seems a straight-forward sort of man"—he said he had deposited 10s., and was to meet him the next morning to pay the money for the house—I then said to him, "How do you get on with the ground-landlord? I suppose you will see him first about it?"—he said, no, He did not know that that mattered much—I said I did not understand much about taking houses myself, but if I were taking a house I should see the groud-landlord—he made light of it, and went away—in the course of the conversation on the 8th, I told him the ground-landlord lived at Brighton, and his son lived at Brompton—I saw him next on Friday, the 10th, when he came to the house with Mr. Fischell—Mr. Fischell asked me for the keys of the rooms, and they went into the bouse themselves—on the Monday they were there again, and Mr. Evans felt very angry to think that the house was not empty—he asked for the keys, and I gave him them—he wanted the key of the front-door, and Mr. Fischell said he had lost the key, and could not find it, and he offered to buy a key, or get a new lock put on, and he would pay for it—he then asked Mr. Evans if he would stand to his bargain—Mr. Evans agreed to do so, and they were going out of the house for that purpose—Mr. Evans's wife then told him to stop; she said, "Let us see if we can arrange matters a little better"—then Mr. Evans agreed to take the house, and Mr. Fischell asked me for the keys again, and I gave them to him, and be girt them up to Mr. Evans—I was a tenant of Mr. Evans for a short time—I left the house, in consequence of notice by him.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Were you turned out? A. No he wished me to go, and not have any piece of work—I am a master boot and shoemaker—I have no men working under me; it is an Association; we are all masters—the shop is at 151, High Holborn—the name over the door is, "The Working Boot and Shoemakers' Association"—I work there, and get wages according to what we earn, something as if I were a journeyman, but we share the profits—I occupied two apartments in Mr. Fischell's house—the Association paid him 30l. a year—I paid my rent—I never saw any money paid to Mr. Fischell—I never paid anything to Mr. Fischell—there were two more rooms occupied by another man—I paid 3s. a week to Mr. Christmas, one of the Association—I told Mr. Evans I paid 30l. a year—that was true—I never paid a farthing—I have known Mr. Fischell about twelve months—I did not go in there till I was put in by the Association—Mr. Fischell told me I was to let the house after we gave it up—I did not give it
up before I saw Mr. Evans—I went to give warning myself, but I could not find Mr. Fischell—I knew he lived in Robert-street, Chelsea—the ground-landlord means the freeholder—I do not know that anybody told me so; I will swear Mr. Fischell did not tell me—he has not spoken to me about this—I do not know how he knew what I could say—I first told this story to Mr. Fischell's lawyer—I did not tell Mr. Fischell first—Mr. Fischeli's lawyer came to me, and said he wanted me to go to the Old Bailey Court as a witness, to tell what I had heard said by Mr. Evans—I mentioned the word "ground-landlord" first—I had mentioned that term before, and heard it used before—I told Mr. Evans distinctly that Mr. Lyall was the freeholder—I told him so distinctly—I can swear I told him so once; I might tell him more than once—it was no business of mine to tell him so; I had no interest in it; but I thought he might be dping wrong if he did not see him—I thought in my own mind it would be best—I knew it by hiring the house of Mr. Fischell, knowing he had got the lease of the house—I knew it previous to that—I saw Mr. Lyall; he told me he was the freeholder—after we had been in the house about a month, he came to tell us our things were in danger if we did not get out—he said the rent had not been paid—that was the son of Mr. Lyall—I did not tell Mr. Evans that Mr. Fischell had not paid his rent—I was not glad to get out as I knew my things were in danger—we went to Mr. Christmas, who took the house, and he saw Mr. Fischell about it, and we remained in—there was not a distress put into the house.
MR. PARRY. Q. Did Mr. Evans come to you first about this house? A. Yes: I and other persons had occupied the house—I paid 3s. a week to Mr. Christmas, and he paid Mr. Lyall—Mr. Lyall never came down again—my things were all properly moved out when I left the house; I took all the things I had—I worked for this Association first when it was in Tottenham-court-road, and then in Holborn—I think it was on the 8th that I first told Mr. Evans about the ground-landlord—this is the notice (looking at it) that I took to Mr. Fischell's—it was Mr. Christmas who hired this house for the benefit of these men.
THOMAS CHRISTMAS . I hired this house of Mr. Fischell, in my name, at the rent of 30l. a year—I paid the first half-year's rent—we paid it quarterly—we should have occupied it twelve months on 9th Aug.—I gave notice to leave about a week before Midsummer, or a day or two before—there were some shelves fixed, and a bit of a bench, and some stoves—I paid 26s. for them; that is, I made Mr. Fischell a pair of boots for 26s. for them—I have only known him these twelve months—he behaved very honourably to me—he offered to take the house of me directly, though I was to give three months' notice—he came to me and asked whether I would buy the lease—I told him I did not know—he asked me 40l., and I believe I bid him 30l. for it.
THOMAS GANDY . I am a commercial traveller. I witnessed this paper on 11th July—I was solicited to do it by Mr. Fischell, at the Colville Arms, in the King-road—I remember Mr. Evans being present—I and a friend were there, and Mr. Fischell asked me if I had any objection to witness the paper—Mr. Fischell read a portion of it over to me—there was some remark made by Mr. Evans as to whom the property belonged to—I said, "It appears to me that this is an under-lease; but if you are satisfied with the parties panting the lease, it matters not who it belongs to"—Mr. Fischell mentioned the name of Lyles, or Giles, of Brighton—I am sure I heard that name mentioned before I witnessed this document—I heard some observation about a solicitor, and some one said, "I don't like to have to do with lawyers."
(An agreement was here put in and read, dated '29th Jpril, 1850, between William Clark, of Wellclose-square, and Philip Fischell, of Robert's-terrace, Chelsea; William Clark, on behalf of John Lyall, of Bedford-square, Bringhton, agreeing to let, and Philip Fischell agreeing to take, the tenement situate at No, 5, Church-lane, Chelsea, at the yearly rent of 25l., payable quarterly; and the said John Lyall agreeing that, if the said Philip Fischell shall pay the rent, he will grant him a lease of the said messuage for twenty—on e years. A second agreement was also read, by which Philip Fischell agreed to let his house No. 5, Church-lane, to Benjamin Evans, for twenty years, at the yearly rent of 25l. on consideration of Benjamin Evans paying the sum of 40l. the said lease to begin from 25th July)
MR. PARRY to MR. MITCHELL. Q. Was there anything said when you were present about this house? A. Yes, at my house, about the 10th or 11th July; Mr. Evans agreed to give 40l. for the lease, and to pay 25l. a year rent, and he paid a half-sovereign deposit—Mr. Fischell did not represent himself to Mr. Evans as the freeholder in my presence, and Mr. Evans did not inquire whether he was or was not the freeholder—some days afterwards this lease was signed, and Mr. Evans signed it without hesitation—I saw them with the solicitor on 11th July—Mr. Evans asked Mr. Fischell whether he would put the house in repair, and he said he would—Mr. Evans did not say anything about a freeholder; it was not mentioned.
GUILTY. Aged 22.— Judgment Respited .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, September 16th 1851.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. KELLY; Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. CHALLIS,
Before Mr. Recorder and the Second Jury,
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM RAWSON . I live at 1, Acorn-court, Rolls-buildings, Chancery-lane, and am a carpenter and builder. On 25th Aug., between 10 and 11 o'clock at night, I met a man named Wright in Acorn-court, and accused him of decoying my daughter away—I said hold of him, and threatened to take him before the police—I said I wished to know where my daughter was—we, got to words, and from that to blows; and in the contest I felt some one stab me in the head, just over the ear, with some sharp instrument—I turned round, and saw the prisoner—I then received another puncture in the eye—I cannot say whether the prisoner struck the second blow—I bled a great deal, and went to Mr. Jones, the surgeon—I spoke about two girls, but the other had nothing to do with me.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Had you seen Wright before that evening? A. Yes, and gave him in charge of one of the City sergeants, but I found I could not sustain the charge—I was full of anxiety, and wished him to tell me where my daughter was, and that was the cause of the contest—I never saw Slater before, to my knowledge—I do not know that I ever spoke to him in my life—I have no knowledge of seeing him with Wright—he was
not with him when I laid hold of him—I spoke of the wound in the eye before Mr. Jardine—it is on the cheek-bone—it was in a narrow passage leading into Acorn-court—there is a projecting wall there—it is not a sharp corner; it is bevilled off—I do not think it possible I could have fallen against any sharp brickwork in the struggle—I did not know Padbury before—I did not see the prisoner again till he was in custody.
WALTER PADBURY . I live with my mother, at 7, Rolls-buildings. About balf-past 9 o'clock, on this night, I was coming up Acorn-court, and saw two men, of whom the prisoner is one—Mr. Rawson caught hold of the other, the biggest, and asked him where the two girls were—the man turned round and struck Mr. Rawson, who struck him again, and knocked him down—he got up again, and there was a great struggle—the prisoner went up the court, to Mr. Noonan, who I saw give him something bright, which looked like a penknife—I then saw the prioner go down the court and strike Rawson on the back of his head, and I saw the blood pour directly—I saw nothing further—I went into Mrs. Rawson's, and told her her husband was stabbed—I did not know Noonan before—I asked who he was, and Mr. Rawson said his name was Noonan—alfter the prisoner struck Rawson, J saw him pull his hand away, and Mr. Greenslade pinned him against the wall.
Cross-examined. Q. How do you get your living? A. By working in the Parcels' Delivery-yard; I have been there three months—I am not in regular employment; I only job there—I am sixteen years old—I have no father—my mother lives at 7, Rolls'-buildings—I worked at Mr. Gillett's, the blind-maker's, for three months—I left because there was so much scrubbing on Saturday nights—before that I was at Mr. Wyatt's, the brushmuker, in Fetter-lane—I was sent to Finchley, and was gone five hours and a half—I walked—I could not find my way—I had some brushes—my master said, when I came back, that if I could not find my way about I must leave—Mr. Rawson laid hold of Wright's collar, asked where the girls were, and said if he did not tell him he would take him to the Metropolitan police-station.
WALTER JONES . I am a surgeon, of 27, Fetter-lane. On 25th Aug., about half-past nine o'clock, I examined the prosecutor, and found a small punctured wound on the left side of the head, above the ear, going to the bone—an artery was divided, and there was a very large quantity of blood—there was also a small wound under the eye, and under that the appearance of a scratch, which was not bleeding—the wounds soon healed.
Cross-examined. Q. It is a very little way to the hone in that part of the head? A. Yes; anything else besides a penknife might do it—I did not probe it—it was about one-third of an inch long.
COURT. Q. Is a wound more or less dangerous when an artery is divided? A. It depends on the size of the artery; there is always danger from the hemorrhage, unless a surgeon is at hand to stop it.
GEORGE ROBINSON (City-policeman, 804). On 25th Aug, about half-past 1 o'clock at night, I was called to Acorn-court—I went after the prisoner, and heard that he was on the top of a house—I got on the top of some houses, and saw him; but before I could get round a stack of chimneys, he got through a window—I came down, but could not find him—I afterwards took him on the top of the houses—(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate read: "Rawson knocked my mate down, and I pulled him away, and that was all I did."
MR. PAYNE called
only had a small bit of bread and butter in my fingers; nothing else—I before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined by MR. COORER. Q. Where were you standing? A. About nine yards from where the row was; I did not see it—the prisoner and his mate came in as I came out—(Padbury here stated that the witness was the same person he called Noonan)—I had no penknife—the prisoner had lodged with me three weeks up to the time of the row—Thomas Booth, man was with me—I am a labouring man—I came from Ireland twenty-four or twenty-five years ago—I have only worked at two places since I have been in London—I work now in Shoe-lane, at a copper-plate manufactory—before that I worked in Lisle-street, West-end.
COURT. Q. Where were you standing? A. At 2, Acorn-court; the court is very narrow; two persons can scarcely pass where the row was—I did not hear the row—I heard the people running up and down while I was having my tea—I did not know exactly what it was going on—when I went out the prisoner walked towards me, and came into his lodging at my place—he did not come out again while I was standing there—I remained about five minutes, till the policeman came to search my place—the prisoner only went by me once; I am sure of that—the policeman searched my house—he was not found in it, or on the top of it—I do not know where he was found—he was not in his lodging when the policeman came—it was not the first policeman that searched my house that took him—there is no back-door to my house; there is a back-window.
COURT to GEORGE ROBINSON. Q. Did you search Noonan's house? A. Yes; after I had chased the prisoner into it from the roof of a house—the house adjoins the passage; it is right in the corner—he was on the roof of the stable, and the house he lived in has a garret window, which looks on to the stable; I do not know whether he went back through that window.
THOMAS ROLFE . I am a bookbinder, and live at 3, Acorn-court. On the night this happened, I saw Rawson and Wright fight—I saw Staler there, he had no knife in his hand; I did not see him strike anybody but a boy, Mr. Rawson's son—I was close to them when they were fighting—I stood almost in the middle of the passage, leading to Acorn-court—Slater could not have gone to Noonan and got a knife without my seeing it; he did not do so—I only know him by living next door to him for three weeks—he was peaceable for that time.
Cross-examined. Q. You are very friendly, I suppose, with Noonan? A. Yes; I live next door to him—I saw the row from the commencement—it was after the row was finished that Slater hit Rawson's son—I was looking at the fighters more than anything else, but I cculd see Slater on the other side—I did not see this boy (Padbury) there—I saw Slater go up the passage, and saw Rawson bleeding from the head—I first saw blood as they were fighting; it flowed pretty fast down his face; I saw it run out all at once—they were hugging one another—at the time I saw the blood, Slater was two yards on the other side of the fighters—I cannot say which of them he was nearest to—there was a woman there, who was nearer to him than the man; she was interfering in the fight; I only know her by sight; I do not know her name—I saw nobody but her nearer to the fighters than Slater—it was all done in a short time—I am not at work at present—I did not go before the Magistrate; I heard he was taken up on this charge, but I was not asked to go.
MR. PAYNE. Q. If Padbury had been there, must you have seen him?
A. Yes; he was not there—if Slater had stabbed Rawson in the head with a knife I must have seen it; I swear he did not.
THOMAS BOOTIIMAN . I am a compositor, of 4, Acorn-court. On the ng'ht this happened I came out of the house, and saw Slater, Rawson, and Wright—I saw the struggle between Rawson and Wright;, Slater did not stab Rawson with a knife while that was going on, if he had I must have seen it—I do not remember seeing Padbury there, I saw Noonan—Slater did not go to Noonan and get a knife from him; he could not have done so without my seeing him.
Cross-examined. Q. You looked at the fight principally? A. Yes; I saw no blood on Rawson—I saw blood on his son's face, that was close to the fight—Noonan stood beside me all the time; I could see what be did; Slater was in the struggle for a short time—when I saw the blood on Rawson's son's face, the prisoner was in the passage in the struggle, and I afterwards saw him go up the passage—Rawson's son was in the struggle; be is about eighteen or twenty years old.
COURT. Q. You say that Slater was in the struggle, what do you mean by that? A. He was amongst the parties fighting—I left my door perhaps five or six yards, and stood there with Noonan—it was the row that called me out—I saw Slater in the struggle.
EDWARD MEHAIN . I am a compositor, of 4, Acorn-court. I saw what took place between F iwsou and Wright—Rawson appeared very much excited; his hands were under the tails of his coat—as the men were passing towards their lodgings, Rawson followed them up the passage—I ran after them to hear what was going on, and j ust as I got to the end of the passage, I saw Wright strike Rawson in the face—I did not see Slater strike a blow, but my sight might have been intercepted—a crowd of women came—I did not see anything done by Slater—I beard a knife had been used, and went to the place where the scuffle took place, and there was a projection of brickwork there, such as I believe might cut a person's head.
Cross-examined. Q. Is it all brick-work? A. There is brick-work, and some composition at the side of it, but there is an angle there which is sufficient to cut anybody's head—it is jagged—I cannot tell the thickness of it—I think a wound might be inflicted with it to produce the appearance of having been done with a penknife, and if you were to examine that brick you would be of the same opinion.
COURT.Q. When did you examine the corner? A. On two or three occasions; once about an hour after it happened—I examined it in consequence of hearing that a knife had been used—it is a projection—I do not bow why it is there—I know nothing about building—it is brick-work at the corner of the wall, and is sharp and jagged in two or three places.
THOMAS GOODING . I am a carpenter and packing-case maker, of 7, Rolls-buildings. On the night this took place, I came down-stairs, looked out at the window, and saw a general row, six or seven men and women fighting at once—I knew none of the parties—I know Padbury—he had lived in the house about nine months—he had gone up to bed at the time, and came past our stairs without his shoes or stockings—he bears a bad character, generally speaking—from his general character I would not believe him upon his oath.
Cross-examined. Q. Why do you form that opinion of him? A. Last night I went home, he came in and asked his mother to give him something to eat and drink—he began abusing her, and said she had a bellyful and he had none—she said, "Go to them you have been with to-day, they were to have kept you"—he said, "I never said anything of the sort"—she said,
"Don't tell those lies; do you mean to say you have had nothing to eat today?"—he said, "Mr. Rawson bought me a biscuit"—I have heard him tell several lies, and he beats his mother—only last week I ran up-stairs when he was beating her, and ray father has constantly to go and chastise him for beating her—about a month ago he took his mother's purse—I saw her pursuing him down Chancery-lane, and he had the purse in his shoe and there are other trivial things against him—I did not know Slater till I went to Bow-street—I do not know Noonan at all; I never saw him before—I went before the Magistrate out of curiosity.
MR. PAYNE. Q. How often have you and your father been called in to the boy when beating his mother? A. on two separate occasions—I am no connection of the prisoner's—I never saw him or any party connected with the case.
WALTER JONES re-examined. It was a clean cut wound—it could not have been inflicted by the corner of a brick wall, unless it was very share indeed, because wounds of that kind do not heal so soon as this did—I do not think it reasonable that a brick wall could have done it.
MR. PAYNE. Q. You have not examined the wall? A. No.
1779. EMMA YARDLEY and MARY THOMPSON , stealing 1 halfsovereign, 1 shilling, 5 sixpences, 1 groat, and 1 purse, value 1s.; the property of Alfred Davidson Tritton, from the person of Angelica Tritton.
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
ANGELICA TRITTON . I am the wife of Alfred Tritton, of 9, Crescentterrace, Millbank. On Wednesday, 27th Aug., about 2 o'clock, I was at Paul's Wharf, which is a steam-packet wharf—I felt something touch my side—I put my hand into my pocket, and somebody's hand touched mine—it was coming out as my hand went in—I saw the person whose hand it me—it was that woman (pointing out Yardley)—I had in my pocket a purse, containing half a sovereign, and some silver, and also two pocket-handkerchiefs—after Yardley took her hand out of my pocket she went and spoke to Thompson, and gave her something—Thompson immediately turned round, and was going off the pier—I told Yardley that she had taken my purse from my pocket—she said, "I have not got it"—I said "You have given it to that person who has just left the pier," and I turned round immediately, and called to a man to stop her—she was brought back immediately—I have since seen my purse.
Cross-examined by. MR. PAYNE. Q. Thompson came back directly; did she not? A. Yes; I did not ask either of them what they were going of the pier for—when Thompson denied having it, I asked why she was going off the pier—Yardley answered, "She was going to get me a pennyworth of pears"—I had felt my purse safe five minutes before, on Paul's Wharf—I had a friend with me, we were going to Croydon, and she said, "You be pay-master," and I paid for the tickets—I am sure I did not drop the purse.
JOHN KNIGHT . I am money-taker to the Citizen steam-boats, at paul's Wharf Pier. I saw the two prisoners there on Wednesday, about 2 o'clock—I noticed Thompson going away with one of the Company's tickets in her hand, which is contrary to the regulation, sit ought to be delivered up on landing—as she was passing my box I heard the prosecutrix call out—I called out to her, but she took no heed—as she turned sharply round I noticed something that she appeared to throw away similar to paper—I stopped her, and looked over the bridge, and saw as I thought a piece of paper
floating I showed the officer, Edwards, where I stopped her, and the purse was found within a few yards.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not see the prisoners come from any boat? A. No; they were on the dummy—there were not many people there, I think only four or five besides the pierman—Thompson did not answer when I first called to her, and I went and tapped her on the shoulder, she turned roond, and I told her the lady wanted to see her—I was asked by one of them whether I had seen her throw the purse, and I said, "No; I could not swear to that, and I cannot now—I could not swear positively whether it was a purse or not—I did not to my knowledge say that I did not see her throw anything away—I cannot say positively whether I did say so or not—I saw her throw something away.
Cross-examined. Q. Where did you find it? A. In the river, on the shingle, under the bridge, leading from one of the barges to the other—Knight showed me where he stopped Thompson after I found the purse—I found the purse right over by that place.
ANGELICA TRITTON re-examined. This is my purse—I have had it almost twelve months—I am quite certain Yardley is the woman whose hand was in my pocket—she was close to me—she found that I had detected her, and she went immediately and gave something to the other person.
COURT to GEORGE EDWARDS. Q. Did you ask Thompson her address? A. Yes; she gave me 28, Earl-street, London-road—I went there; there was no such number in the street—I afterwards went to No. 13, but did not find that any one knew her in the street—I found where Yardley lived—Thompson was searched at the station, 13., two halfpence, and 1s. was found on her. (Thompson received a good character.)
YARDLEY— GUILTY . Aged 27.
THOMPSON— GUILTY . Aged 29.
Confined Six Months.
GUILTY. Aged 19.— Judgment respited .
MR. HUDDLESTON conducted the Prosecution,
THOMAS POLLARD . I am a labourer, of 10, Hambleton-street, Wandsworth-road; I work at Fulham. On Friday, 16th Aug., between 12 and 1 o'clock at night, I was in a street in Westminster, which I do not know the name of; I was going to my daughter's in Coburg-row, Westminster—I saw three women and two men; one of the women accosted me; I told her to go about her business—I had scarcely spoken a word before I was knocked senseless by the prisoner—that is the man (the witness appeared to point to a gentleman standing near the dock, but afterwards went up and pointed to the prisoner)—I am certain he is the man; my eyes are very weak, through working before a fire—as I fell, the woman made a grab at my watch-guard; the guard was not broken, but the ring was torn off the watch—I received a blow in the face, and was completely saturated with blood; my face was shockingly
disfigured—I saw the prisoner with the woman before he struck me, coming up to me; I had a good view of them—I came to myself and found a policeman with me—I missed two sovereigns and about 10s. in silver, from my right-hand breeches pocket, and my watch; the chain and ring, and 1s. 8d. were left—I went towards the station with the constable, and saw the prisoner about a couple of hundred yards from the station, near the church in Rochester-row—I recognised him as the man, and told the constable—it was a beautiful moonlight night, and the prisoner looked me hard in the face before he struck me.
Cross-examined by MR. PARNELL Q. Was the moon about the full? A. That I cannot say—I am quite positive there was a moon—when I saw the prisoner he was alongside of an officer—he was coming from the station-not going towards it—it was between 12 and 1 o'clock when I received the blow—I believe it was after one when I came to myself—I had been at Kensal—green that night—I was at work there, and lived there—I cannot say what time I left home, I should say about ten or eleven—I had not been in any public. house after leaving Kensal-green—I had been in no public-house there, except in the day-time I was in the Plough, and had a share of a pint of beer—I left work at five, and had nothing to drink since—I was going to my daughter's, at 10, Coburg-road—I was satisfied she would get up to let me in—I do not know the name of the street where I was attacked, I know it was somewhere near the New-road—I had never seen the prisoner before to my knowledge, or the women—there were three women—I have not seen any of them since—I fancy I should know the woman again who spoke to me, but I cannot positively say I should—I should not know the other man—I only saw one other man—it was all done very suddenly—I was knocked down senseless—in a moment.
MR. HUDDLESTON. Q. Had you as good an opportunity of seeing the other man, and knowing him again, as you had of the prisoner? A. No; for he looked me hard in the face, and the other did not.
WILLIAM YOUNG . (policeman B 180). On the morning of 16th Aug. the prosecutor came to me; I went with him towards the station—on the way we met the prisoner with a constable, the prosecutor recognised him as the person immediately, and gave him in charge—the prisoner said he was not the man—we had walked about 200 yards before we met the prisoner—the prosecutor was quite sober.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose there were not many persons about at that time? A. No; we had not seen anybody till we met the prisoner—he was in custody of the other constable on suspicion of stealing a gold watch of a Frenchman; but they recognised him as not being the man, and he was then on his way back from the station—the other constable is not here—his name is Tucker, and his No. is 315—it was about half-past 1 o'clock when I found the prosecutor—I went with him directly towards the station—the constable told the inspector, in the prisoner's presence, that he had taken him into custody in Union-court, Orchard-street, and had come to the station with him directly—it would take about fifteen minutes to come from Union-court to the station; it may be three-quarters of a mile—I found the prosecutor in Tufton-street, that is about 300 yards further from the station than Orchard-street—we met the prisoner and the constable about 200 yards from the station—we had then come, I dare say, half a mile from where I found the prosecutor—Union-court is about 300 yards from Tufton-street.
GUILTY . † Aged 22.— Transported for Ten Years .
GUILTY . Aged 16.— Confined One Month, and Whipped .
(The prisoner received a good character.)
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
SOPHIA REEVES . I am the sister of the prisoner's first wife. Her name was Ann Lover Reeves—I was present at their marriage, on 3rd June, 1841, it the Sub-deanery parish Church, Chichester—he got between 200l. and 500l. with her—they had both been in the service of one of the canons—they lived together nine months, at the Nag's Head, Marshall-street, London—I did not see them there—I only saw them for three days after the marriage—about twelve months afterwards she came down to Chichester by the road wagon, with only 6d., ust enough to pay her fare—after that I supported her some time, and then she applied to the parish—about twelve months after she came, she went into the Bethnal-green Lunatic Asylum—about nine months afterwards she came to me again, and remained with me two or three years, and then went permanently to the Lunatic Asylum, where she is now—I saw her there this morning—she came down to Chichester three times, and went three times to London—I did not see the prisoner again till this day fortnight—I bad received one or two letters from him after she first came down—I received the letters in 1843—I Have not got them here—I have received none since—I have written several letters to him, but not since 1843—I never had any answer.
Cross-examined by MR. PARNELL. Q. What did you do with the letter you wrote in 1843? A. I put it into the post myself—I swear that—my sister is older than me—she bad been fellow-servant with the prisoner four years—he was butler, and she lady's maid—I know she had 200l., because I saw it—I do not believe he had anything—the first thing they did was to get a public-house—after the nine months she was away, I and the family supported her until the parish interfered—they have had to support her since—this is a parish prosecution; it did not lay in our power to do it, or we should have done it long before.
MARY YOUNGI . I have known the prisoner these eight years—he was living in Portland-place—I knew he was married, but thought his wife was dead—I went through the ceremony of marriage with him, on 3rd Feb., 1849—he had represented himself to me as a widower; and to my best belief, he thought he was, for I had reason to think his wife was dead, because he had a letter in Boulogne to that effect—I saw the letter, and he told me he had received it in reference to his wife's death—he was very low, and said he had had bad news, and his wife was dead—he did not tell me who it came from, only from Chichester—that was late in 1844, five years before we were married—he had told me about his previous marriage at Chichester—he told me he had sent his wife to Chichester—I knew she was an inmate of the Marylebone Infirmary—that was before I knew him—I had very little money, I do not know how much—I was left a widow, and had not saved much—I have a child by the prisoner—I had been a widow ten years when I married him—I went down to Chichester myself.
Cross-examined. Q. The prisoner is a waiter and interpreter, at the Exhibition, in Hyde-park? A. Yes, he was up to Aug. 26th, in this year—he came home the worse for liquor; we had a few words, and I went away angrily—up to that time he had been living comfortably with me since our
marriage—he has been a good husband to me, excepting when he was in liquor—this prosecution is not instituted by me at all—it was in 1844 when the prisoner received the letter—I did not see the original post-mark only the Boulogne post-mark—he went into mourning at that time.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. How soon before your marriage did he first make proposals to you? A. About two years before—he has ill-treated me when he has been in liquor; sometimes that has not been once a week.
SOPHIA REEVES re-examined. It was nearly two years after the first marriage that my sister came down to Chichester in the wagon—they were at the Nag's Head nine months, and then went into lodgings—the name of the parish at Chichester is Sub-deanery only—(the indictment calling it the parish of "St. Peter the Great, otherwise Sub-deanery" the Court ordered it to be amended.) (The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY . Aged 44.— Confined Six Months.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, September 16th, 1851.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HOOPER; Mr. Ald. CHALLIS; Mr. Ald. LAWRIMCE; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Sixth Jury.
GUILTY . Aged 45.— Confined Six Months.
GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Six Months.
GUILTY . Aged 48.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
MARY NICHOLSON . I am the wife of Edward Nicholson, a tobacconist, of Hammersmith. On 30th Aug., between 5 and 6 o'clock, the prisoner Townsend came to my shop for a pennyworth of tobacco—he gave me in payment a sixpence—I kept it in my hand, and gave him change with my other hand—he went out directly—I looked at the sixpence when he gave it me, and again when he was gone—it appeared to me to be bad; I went out of my shop, and saw Mr. Rochford—Townsend was before me, and I told Mr. Rochford to follow him, and not to lose sight of him—I took the sixpence next door, and it was tried in the detector—I kept it in my hand, and gave it to Mr. Thyar—I marked it in his presence—Townsend was brought back by Mr. Elliott, and I afterwards went to the station; Townsend was there, and Saunders—I have a slight recollection of having seen Saunders pass before—I had not seen him that day.
JAMBS HILL THYAR . I am a butcher. On 30th Aug. I was in King-street, Hammersmith, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening—I saw both the prisoners walking together for five minutes or more—Saunders passed something in the shape of silver to Townsend, and he crossed and went in the tobacconist's shop—I watched him in and watched him out—he crossed the road to Saunders, and they joined company again and went down King-street—I saw Mrs. Nicholson come out and speak to Mr. Rochford—he
followed Saundern, and took him by his left-arm, and Saunders threw something in the shape of silver over the house of Mr. Jeffrys, the grocer—the prisoners were taken to the station, and I came back to Mr. Jeffrys, and foond on the roof of his house two sixpences, in the direction in which I had seen Saunders throw something—I told the officer where to go, and he found five sixpences there—I received a sixpence from Mrs. Nicholson, which I told the to mark, and to come to the station; and when she was there, I gave her the sixpence she had given me—I saw her give it to the officer.
WILLIAM ROCHFORD . I reside at Hammersmith. On Saturday evening, 30th Aug., I saw Mrs. Nicholson near her door—she pointed out Townsend to me—Mr. Elliott went with me after the prisoners—Townsend joined Saonders, who passed something to him; it appeared to roe like silver; it shone white—I could not see what coin it was—Townsend left him, and crossed over to the pastrycook's shop—I laid hold of Saundere's left arm, and he chucked something on the top of Mr. Jeffrys's house—it was in a paper; and as it went up the paper opened, and I saw something white fall on the top of the house—I went with the prisoners to the station; and as they were going, I saw Saunders take a sixpence from his side, put it in his mouth, and swallow it—I said, "It is no use your putting that bad money in your mouth, and swallowing it"—I saw no more of the sixpence—I was present when the prisoners were searched—no bad money was found on them—Mr. Jeffrys's house is two storeys high.
SIDNEY ELLIOTT . I am a hair-dresser at Hammersmith. I saw my sister, Mrs. Nicholson on the evening of 30th. Aug.—I went with Rochford after Townsend—I saw him go to Saunders, who passed something to him, but I could not tell what—Townsend crossed the road, and went to Mr. Green's, the pastrycook's shop—I followed him—I saw him take a biscuit, and throw down a sixpence on the counter—the little girl was in the act of taking up the sixpence when I took it up, put it in my mouth, bit it, and then put it in my pocket—I told Townsend he had been to my sister's and passed bad money, and he must go back with me—he said he had not passed any bad money to Mrs. Nicholson—I took him back to my sister's, and then to the station—I gave the sixpence I took to the policeman.
JAMES BOWDEN (policeman, T 96). I was on duty at the station when the prisoners were brought in—I searched them, and found two shillings, four 4d.-bits, a sixpence, and life? in copper on Townsend, all good; and on Slanders 2s. 2d. good money—I also found on Townsend five small lots of tohacco, which appear to be pennyworths—I received this sixpence from Mr. Elliott, and this other from Mrs. Nicholson—I went to Mr. Jeffrys's house, and found these five bad sixpences on the top of the roof; two of them were in a piece of paper, the other three loose—I saw Mr. Thyar find two sixpences on the roof.
J. H. THYAR re-examined. These are the two I found on the roof.
TOWNSEND— GUILTY Aged 20.
SAUNDERS— GUILTY * Aged 12.
Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS BINGHAM I am ostler at the Mason's Arms, at Edgeware. On 13th Aug. I was near Mr. Day's almshouses, about half-past 3 o'clock—I saw the two prisoners together—Bailey asked me how far it was to Watford;
I told him six miles—I had a bottle on my back—he asked me what I had got in it—I told him it was full of emptiness—they went on in the direction of Stanmore, which is about two miles from there.
THOMAS TULL . I am ostler at the Abercorn Arms, at Stanmore. On Wednesday, 13th Aug., I was there about 4 or 5 o'clock—I saw Deekins—he asked me where the tap-room was, and I showed him—he asked me to fetch him a pint of beer, and he gave me half-a-crown—I took it to the bar, gave it to Eliza Burns, and she gave me in change four sixpences and a 4d.-piece, which I gave to Deekins—in about two minutes afterwards I saw Bailey come across the road—he said something—I understood him to say, "Are you on the road, mate?"—he joined Deekins a short distance outside the house, and they went on.
ELIZA LYDIA BURNS . I am bar-maid at the Abercorn Arms. On Wednesday, 13th Aug., a little before 5 o'clock, Tull came in and put down a half-crown on the counter to pay for some beer—I put the half-crown in the till—there was a shilling there, and two sixpences; but I am quite certain there was no other half-crown—in half an hour afterwards I heard something from the policeman—I went to the till again and found the half-cron there, and there was only one—I took it out—Mrs. Clark was in the bar—she was going to take it, and the policeman took it—it did not go out of my sigit from the time I took it out of the till, till the policeman had it.
JURY. Q. Had you left the bar from the time you took it? A. Yes, I was about the bouse; when I was not there, Mrs. Clark attended to the bar—after I received it, Mr. Clark jinked It twice on the counter, and told me to give change—I am sure I put the same half-crown in the till.
SARAH CLARK . My husband keeps the Abercorn Arms. I was at home that day—Burns went out of the bar—I was there during her absence—whilst she was away, no person could have gone to the till without my knowledge—I did not go to the till—when the policeman came, this half-crown was found in the till, and it was the only one there.
JURY. Q. Did you take the half-crown? A. I believe in the altercation of the moment, I took it, and the policeman took it from me, put it in his mouth, and said it was a very bad one—I saw it taken out of the till.
GEORGE DEAR . I am an errand-boy, and live at Oreat Stanmore. On 13th Aug., I was at Mr. Bell's, the baker's, which is thirty or forty yards from the Abercorn Arms: Whitmill was with me—I saw Bailey standing against the fence at Mr. Hooper's, marking the ground about with his foot, and looking down; in about half a minute, he put something in a hole in the ground—he then left the spot, and went across to the Abercorn Arms-l went to the spot, and Whitmill, who was with me, put his hand underneath and brought out a parcel—it was under the ground, just covered with straw and litter—persons could not see it in going by—we opened the parcel directly, and it contained twenty-four half-crowns; I took out one, and marked it—after we had got the parcel, I saw the prisoners coming from the Abercorn Arms, and Bailey went to the same place and looked for the parel—he moved the straw about—the prisoners were both together—they then walked on up the bill, and I and Whitmill gave the parcel to the policeman—Deekins was five or six yards from Bailey when he looked for it.
CHARLES WHITMILL . I am an errand-boy. I was with Dear, and saw Bailey standing opposite the fence—Dear said to me, "Look at that man"—I saw Bailey rake something away with his hand, drop something from under his smock, and kick the rubbish over it with his foot—he went towards Mr. Clark's, and while he was gone, I and Dear went to the spot; I pulled a little
rubbish aside, and-found this paper parcel, and in it were twenty-four half-crowns—in two or three minutes, the two prisoners came from the Abercorn Arms—Bailey came up to the spot; Deekins was a little higher up—Bailey raked the stuff about—I had my eyes upon the place from the time I first saw Bailey go there; no one else passed the place—after the prisoners went away, talking together, I bit one of the half-crowns, and said it was bad; I gave them to the officer, and showed him the prisoners.
WILLIAM ROBINS . I am a wheelwright, of Stan more. I was on the road and heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I saw the prisoners running; I stopped Deekins—Lyons, the policeman, came up, and took him and 1 pursued Bailey, who continued to run on—when I came up near him, I saw him take something? from under his smock, put it into his right hand, and throw it over the Marquis of Abercorn's wall—I left an officer to follow Bailey, add I went into the Marquis's grounds, and found three half-crowns, which I gave to the officer—Bailey was soon brought back, and I said I saw him throw them away.
ALBERT AUSTIN (policeman, S 369). On 13th Aug., I saw the prisoners coming from the Abercorn Arms—they went up the hill—Whitmill and Dear soon after brought me twenty-four half-crowns—I followed the prisoners; I bad had them in sight all the time—they began running when they got to Mr. Ballard's house—I chased Bailey for half a mile across the common—while he was running I saw his hand move, as if he threw something—that was against the Marquis of Abercorn's lodge—I took him, but found no bad money on him—I went to the Abercorn Arms—I saw Burns take this half, crown from the till; Mrs. Clark took it, and gave it to me—the prisoners were there at the time—they first said they had not been to the house at all, but when Tull was asked if they had been there, he said, "Yes"—they then both acknowledged it—I got these three half-crowns from Robins. Deekim. I never denied being in the house. Witness. Yes, you did.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . This first half-crown is of George the Fourth, 1825, it counterfeit—these three are of George the Third, 1817, 1819, and 1820, all counterfeit; these twenty-four are all counterfeit, and six of them are of George the Third, 1817, from the same mould as one of the three—six are of 1819, the same mould as one of the three—four of them are 1820, of the same mould as one of the three—four are of George the Fourth, 1825, the same mould as the one that was uttered—and four are of William the Fourth, 1836, of the same mould—this one that was uttered has a very good ring—they are all very good of the kind.
Deekins's Defence. I did not know the half-crown was bad; I never was charged with any crime in my life.
DEEKINGS— GUILTY . Aged 22.) Confined Twelve Months.
BAILEY— GUILTY . Aged 24.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. ELLIS and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD TANNER . I deal in fish, in Clare-market. On 20th Aug. the prisoner came and bought something of me; she offered me a shilling—I noticed it was bad, and returned it to her—it was an old George—this is it—it was quite straight when she gave it me—I gave it a small twist.
Aug., and I watched the prisoner—she was in company with a man and another woman in Farringdon-street—they went to Bride-lane, and went into Mr. Davall's, the Twelve Bells—I stopped outside the door, and saw the prisoner tender something to Mr. Davall; I went in after her, and saw it was a had shilling in Mr. Davall's hand—the prisoner was taken to the station, and Mr. Davall brought another shilling—this is the one that was tendered at him house—he gave it me at the time.
EDWARD JAMES DAVALL . I keep the Twelve Bells, in Bride-lane. The prisoner and two other persons came there—the prisoner appeared very ill, and said she was very much frightened, and nearly run over in crossing the road—she wanted something to drink, and said she would have some shrub and cold water—I served her; she gave me a Victoria shilling—I put it to my mouth and bit it—the officer came in and I gave it to him—he took the prisoner away, and just after she had gone I saw another shilling picked up just where the scuffle was—she made a resistance at being taken—the shilling was picked up by a man in front of me—he said he was lucky, he had found a shilling, and he would spend it—he threw it on the counter—I took it up and bit it, and found it was bad.
Prisoner. You said a man that used your house picked up a shilling, but you did not see him pick it up, and now you say you saw him pick it up Witness. I saw him stoop and pick up something.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . This Victoria shilling is counterfeit; also this one of George III. 1816; and this one found by the searcher is counterfeit, and is of the same mould as the one uttered at the public-house.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was read, as follows: "I have nothing more to say than that I picked up the purse and money.)
Prisoner's Defence. On that morning a person asked me to go out with her to buy a bonnet; we went; she went and called for a quartern of brandy, she had great part of it; we then met a man who I understood was as acquaintance of her father and mother; we went to Black more-street, and had a quartern of gin; I picked up an old brown purse with three shillings, two sixpences, and 11/2 d. in it; I never had the thought to examine it; we went and had 3d.-worth of brandy, and I gave one of the shillings; I then proposed to go and have some tea in a coffee-shop; we went to Clare-market, and I offered a shilling to buy a herrinr, the man said it was bad, and I gave him two penny-pieces; we then went to the house in Bride-lane; I was very nearly run over; I was having some shrub and water, and I gave a shilling which he said was bad; the shilling the man gave me back first I had pot in my pocket.
GUILTY. Aged 33.— Recommended to mercy by the Jury. Judgment Respited .
MR. LOCKS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN WHITE (policeman, R 180). On 27th Aug. I was in Church-street, Greenwich, about 5 o'clock in the afternoon—I saw the prisoners following lady; I followed them for 150 or 200 yards—I was in plain clothes—I saw Smith go into a linen-draper's, Harpur waited till he came out, and they walked on and turned a corner by the old Church—I lost sight of them for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I then saw them in company, and they went into a bookmakers—they came out in about five minutes, Smith having
a pair of boots—they went on board a Watermans' boat; I went on board—they went and stood by the paddle-box, and remained there till they got to the Thames-tunnel Pier—Smith then left Harpur and went to the gangway, and attempted the pockets of two ladies—I then saw him go by the side of Mrs. Henderson—he was by her side about a minute—there were a great number of persons on board—Smith then went to Harpur and received the boots from him, and sat down—I then heard Mrs. Henderson say, "I have lost my watch"—I said, "Don't make any noise about it"—I spoke to the captain and the mate, and to a number of gentlemen on board, to assist me—I went and secured Harpur above the elbows, and I distinctly saw him throw a watch into the water—I saw the watch in his hand, and tried to get it out of his band, it was a silver watch—there was no guard to it—I told him he was charged with stealing a watch—he said he had not seen one—I told Smith he was charged with stealing a watch—he said he had not seen one—I heard Mrs. Henderson say, "I will take 3l. 10s. "—I took the prisoners—I had some gentlemen before the Magistrate, but he thought it was not necessary to bind then over.
Cross-examined by MR. WOOLLETT. Q. Where was Smith? A. He was sitting on the cabin-door with the boots, when I took him—it was then about half-past 5 o'clock—I saw him attempt the pockets of two ladies on board the boat—I did not take him then—I never do that when I am sure to catch persons like these with a case against them—the boat was crowded to excess.
MARY CONDON HENDERSON . I went on board a steamer coming from Greenwich, on 27th Aug., at the Tunnel-pier—I had a watch with me; the boat was very much crowded—I put my hand on my watch for a long time, but the boat gave a roll, and I staggered back, and threw out my arms—the moment afterwards I felt, and my watch was gone—I had a ribbon-guard to it—I have not that guard, but I have the ring that was attached to it—this is it—I saw nothing of the prisoners till they were in custody—a person who came on board with me was watching the prisoners to see who took them, and she said to me, "Your watch is in the water"—it was a small silver watch—after I came closer to the prisoners, Harpur said, "Will you take the value of your watch, and do nothing further in it?"—I said, "I will"—he said, "What will satisfy you?"—I said, "Three pounds ten"—he said, "You shall have it," and he gave me the money—I did not hear Smith say anything—I went to the station, and made the charge.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. You say the boat was much crowded, snd you saw nothing of either of the prisoners till they were in custody? A. No; I complained of the loss of my watch—I said directly, "I have losr my watch"—the persons around heard me—I did not move from the spot where I was—the policeman might have heard me say I had lost my watch—my husband's name is James Henderson—I missed my watch at the moment I spoke—I am sure I had it two minutes before—I was near to the machinery.
KEZIAH MARY PRING . I was in company with Mrs. Henderson—there were persons near us—we were crowded—I saw the policeman there—I heard Mrs. Henderson exclaim, "I have lost my watch!"—the policeman said, "Be quiet, I know the party who has got it"—he spoke to the captain—I watched him narrowly, and he went to the two prisoners—I did not go with him—I stood by Mrs. Henderson—I kept my eye on Harpur, wd saw him throw a watch into the Thames—I said to Mrs. Henderson, "Your watch is gone into the water"—she said, "Oh dear!"—I am quite sure it was a watch I saw thrown—it had no guard to it—I saw it quite
distinctly—it was a small silver watch—I had seen Mrs., Henderson's watch before—I am sure it was hers—a short time afterwards I and Mrs. Henderson went to the prisoners while the policeman was putting down some names—Harpur asked Mrs. Henderson if she would take the value of the watch, and say no more about it; she said she would—he asked her the value, and she said 3l. 10s.—he gave it her—she first said 3l., and then she said 3l. 10s.; and Smith put his face down to Harper, and said, "Give her 10s. more;" and he gave her three sovereigns and ten shillings.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Where were you standing when you saw the watch? A. By the side of Mrs. Henderson—there were persans between me and the watch, but it went over the persons' heads—I saw it go over their heads, into the water—I saw it come from Harpur—the officer had hold of him at the time—Mrs. Henderson was near the cabin-do I did not see Smith at all near her.
SMITH— GUILTY . Aged 18.
HARPUR— GUILTY . Aged 24.
Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY . Aged 27.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor.— Confined Four Months.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY . Aged 32.— Confined Nine Months.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS ROBINSON . I am cashier to William Dunnage and others, who are successors to Messrs. Cubitt. On 29th Aug. we had some works going on at Hatchford-house—it was necessary to remit 20l. for wages to Mr. Lane, our foreman there—I put 17l. in gold, and 3l. in silver, into a small parcel, and an advice-note, stating the contents—it was marked Hatchford; but the parcel being too small to have a clear direction, I wrapped it in some shavings, making the parcel larger, and it was directed, "To Mr. Lane, W. Cubitt and Co.'s foreman, to be left at the Weybridge station till called for, Waterloo station, half-past nine train"—I wrapped it round with string, and sealed the ends of the string with a seal, having on it "W. Cubitt and Co., Gray's-inn-road"—on the advice-note I had written, "Dear sir, herewith you will receive 17l. gold, and silver 3l.; total, 20l. Yours truly, W. Harrison"—the parcel remained with me from about 3 o'clock in the afternoon till about 7 in the evening—I then ascertained that one of our carts was going to Hatchford, and I put my pen in a zigzag manner through so much of the direction as directed it to be left at the Weighbridge station—I delivered the parcel to the yard-foreman, Loughborough, and gave him direction about it—these two piece of brown paper(looking at them)
and Co., to be sent by half-past nine train, and to be left," at some place which is now obliterated—here is a portion of the inner wrapper, in which the advice-note was enclosed—on the outside of it here is written, "Hatchford."
Cross-examined by MR. CHARNOCK. Q. This word is all that you had written on the inner wrapper? A. Yes; I saw this again on the examination, four or five days afterwards—it was perfectly dry then, and could be read rather better than it can now.
JOHN LOUGHBOROUGH . I am yard-foreman to Messrs. Dunnage and Co. On 29th Aug. I received from Mr. Harrison a parcel—I delivered it to Latta about half-past 7 o'clock, to give to the car man—I gave it him in the state I received it.
JAMES LATTA . I am watchman to Messrs. Dunnage. On that evening I received a parcel from Loughborough, which I gave to Bryant just before 10 o'clock, in the same state I received it—the seal was on it.
HENRY BRYANT . I am car man to Messrs. Dunnage and Co. I received a parcel from Latta on that Friday night—I was going to Hatchford with my cart, and was to take the parcel with me—I laid it on the cart, and started about 1 o'clock—I did not go any nearer to King's-cross than when I started from my master's gate—I got to Hatchford about 11 next day—Mr. Lane asked me if I had a parcel; I said, "Yes," and then I missed it—the cart contained scaffolding poles; I put the parcel on them.
HENRT FABIAN . I live in Tobacco-court; I keep a coffee-stall in King William-street, near London-bridge. On Saturday morning, 30th Aug., about 10 minutes before 2 o'clock, the prisoner came on the rank with his cab—he brought a parcel to me, and said he had found it—he said he dare say it contained something similar to one which he had picked up a few days previous—he requested me to open it—I said, "No; if it contains what you say, I would rather you opened it"—he opened it—the outside cover was brown paper, and in it was shavings—I did not see any seal on it, but I considered it was perfect—he took the string off it, and the wrapper, and came to the shavings—the parcel' felt wet in my hand—he opened the shavings very carefully, like a nest, and in the center was a smaller paper parcel, and in it was about 2l. worth of silver—it appeared to me there was another paper parcel attached to the smaller one—the prisoner then went back to the rank—he complained of being very bad in his inside, and told me to mind his cab—he went away, taking the small parcel with him, and returned in about five minutes—he had left the brown paper and shavings with me—I took the paper up, and put it into my can—I mentioned this to a policeman between four and five, and gave him the wrapper.
Cross-examined. Q. This paper which contained the small parcel was found at your feet? A. I found them all at my feet—the parcel was quite wet while it was on my hand—I did not endeavor to see any address on the parcel—when I gave the papers into the officer's hand, it was nearly 5 o'clock—we then looked for the address; neither of us could see it—it was quite wet; evidently it had fallen down—I have seen the prisoner using that stand for four years—I did not know his name—he said he had picked up the parcel near King's-cross—I minded his cab while he went away.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. The parcel was wet and muddy? A. Yes; I did not attempt to look at the address till 5 o'clock—the policeman and I examined it—it was not legible.
JOSEPH LLOYD (City-policeman, 62). On Saturday morning, 30th Aug., I saw Fabian—he took this paper from his can, and gave it me—it was wet and dirty—I could not see the letters on it—there was no seal on it—it was just in the state it is now, with the exception of the mud and wet being on it—I dried it, and found this address on it—I took it to the stationed made a communication to Messrs. Cubitt.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you dry it? A. At 6 o'clock—I rubbed the mud and dirt off it, and found the address.
THOMAS BAINES (City-policeman, 448). On Tuesday night, 2nd Sept., I went to the raft-stand in King William-street—I saw the prisoner—I told him I came to him respecting a parcel of money that he picked up, and had in his possession; he said, "I picked up a parcel which contained 25s. at King's-cross"—I said, "At what part? near the cab-rank?"—he said, "No, on this side of the cab-rank, near the Cross"—I said, "It is not satisfactory to me; you must go to the station, to explain it to the inspector"—he went there; and when I got there, I received this smal piece of paper from Fabian—I found 12s. 6d. on the prisoner.
Cross-examined. Q. When you took him, he was on his cab? A. Yes, he was passing the stand—he said he picked up this parcel, and hung it on the splash-board, and whatever was in it might have run out before he got to King William-street—I said I wanted him respecting a parcel of money—he said, "Very well"—I searched his lodging, but found no money there.
NOT GUILTY .
JENSON— GUILTY . Aged 62.— Confined Six Months.
MORRIS— GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Two Months.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, September 17th, 1851.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE TALFOURD; Mr. BARON MARTIN; Mr. Ald KELLY; Mr. Ald. HOOPER; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Mr. Baron Martin, and the Third Jury.
MESSRS. CLARKSON and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
WALTER ROBERTSON SCULTHORPE . I am one of the presidents of the General Post-office. In consequence of what had reached me in my official capacity, on 6th Aug. I made up a letter, and addressed it to Mr. James Hyam: Letherington, Wisbeach, Cambridgeshire—I enclosed in it a sovereign a shilling, and three 2d. postage stamps—I marked them before enclosing them in the letter, in the presence of Mr. Cole, the inspector—I sealed the letter, and delivered it to Peak, the constable, about 12 o'clock in the day—if that letter was then posted at Highgate, it ought to have reached the General Post-office about half-past 2—the letters come from Highgate in a bag—I was at the General Post-office when the bag arrived, and opened it; the letter was not in it—the letter-bill accompanied the letters in the bag—I have it here—it describes the letters as 49 unpaid and stamped letters, and is paid, 1s. 6d.—I found the contents of the bag corresponded with the bill—on this discovery I proceeded to Highgate, with Peak, the officer, and Mr. Cole—I made some inquiry at the post-office at Highgate, in consequence which I directed Peak to go in search of the prisoner—he was at that time an auxiliary deliverer of letters there—Peak returned to the Post-office,
accompanied by the prisoner, and he produced a sovereign, a shilling, and three 2d. postage stamps—they were the same I had enclosed in the letter—Peak said, in the prisoner's presence, that he had taken them from the prisoner pocket—I said, "This is my money and postage stamps"—the prisoner said he had had them for a fortnight—I gave him into custody—I had the letter-bill with me—I asked the prisoner whether they were his figures; he said they were.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Is it within your knowledge what wages the prisoner had? A. Thirteen shillings a week—he bad an extra duty, which brought him in 3s. a week—if he was lucky he made 16s. a week—I am sure he had some pay for the extra duty, at least I have it from the letter-carrier whose duty he did—he took on himself the duty of another letter-carrier, and got what he could out of him—the 3s. did not come from the public money.
MATTHEW PEAK . I am a constable, attached to the Post-office. I received this letter from Mr. Sculthorpe, on 26th Aug.—I put it into the Highgate post-office at 5 minutes past 1; I then returned to London—I saw Mr. Sculthorpe again, about half-past two, and accompanied him back again to Highgate; we got there about half-past three—we went to seek for the letter which was missing, and which I had posted—I afterwards went in search of the prisoner—I found him in Highgate, delivering letters—Mr. Cole, who was with me, asked him whether he had made up the collection—he at first said no, and pointed to Mr. Haynes, the assistant to Mr. Lloyd, the post-master of Highgate, who was with us at the time—we then asked him if he did not make up the half-past 1 collection—he said he did, and cleared the box—it was then told him that a letter was missing, and Mr. Cole read the address of the letter—he said he knew nothing at all about it—I then put my hand into his trowsers pocket, and took out a sovereign, a shilling, three postage stamps, oae sixpence, and 31/2 d. in copper—I handed the sovereign to Mr. Cole, and be identified it as being the one in the letter which I had posted—I then took him to the post-office at Highgate, and showed the money and stamps to Mr. Sculthorpe; he also identified it as being the money that was in the letter, and asked the prisoner to account for it—he said he had had it about a fortnight—I then took him into custody.
RICHARD KELHAM . I am assistant at the Highgate post-office. On 26th Aug. the prisoner was on duty there; he made up the collection for the half-past 1 o'clock bag; I saw him about it—that bag was despatched to London in the ordinary way.
MR. SCULTHORPE re-examined. This sovereign, shilling, and stamps are the same—I find my mark on them.
(Thomas W. Jones, Esq., ship-owner; residing at the Grove, Highgate; Josiah Wilkinson, Esq., barrister-at-law, of Highgate; John Biddlestone, Stephen Fleming, James Sims, Samuel Atkins, Thomas Morgan, and William Toyne, all of Highgate, deposed to the prisoner's good character for many pars,)
GUILTY . Aged 28.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the
Jury— Transported for Ten Years .
Before Mr. Justice Talfourd.
Ms. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.
12 o'clock at night, I was in the Grange-road, Camden-town, and saw the prisoner there, with his wife, and Mrs. Bryan; she was assisting the prisoner in leading his wife along—the prisoner had been drinking—I believe his wife was perfectly sober—she was groaning very much—I asked what was the matter—she said, "Oh, policeman, my life is in your hands; this man has stabbed me"—I said, "Where has he stabbed you?"—she put her hand to her stomach, and said, "Oh, my entrails are coming out"—the prisoner said, "I have done it, and I am only sorry they were not both together; I would have served them both alike"—he mentioned some man's name as well—I then conveyed her to the nearest surgeon's, Mr. Mushat's—he was not at home—I got two other constables to assist me—I took the prisoner to the station, and the woman was taken to the hospital—I believe the prisoner knew what he was doing—he was considerably in liquor.
BRIDGET BRYAN . I am married, and live in Ferdinand-place, Camdentown; I know the prisoner and his wife. On 26th June she was lodging in Caroline-place, Camden-town—about 10 o'clock that night I went to where she lived, and knocked at the door—I found the prisoner there with his wife—they were arguing, that is, quarrelling—I told them to be quiet—she was sober—we all came down-stairs into the street—the prisoner asked her to have a drop of beer—she said, "No"—he put his hand to her back and pushed her before him, and I made myself agreeable for peace—he asked her again to have some drink—we went; but she would have none of the first; there were two pots—she had a little—he then said, "Are you not my wife?"—"Yes"—"Am I not your husband?"—"Yes"—"Will you not come home with me"—"No"—and she would not let him go home with her; she denied him everything—after we had come along a little way, he bid us good night, and we thought he was gone away—he did not say that he would do anything if she did not come, not in my hearing—my deposition was read over to me, and I made my mark to it—this is it (looking at it)—I wanted to go, and she pulled me back, and wished me to stay—he was all the time asking her to come home, and she would not go with him—I really do not know whether he said he would do anything if she did not come—I am so confused I can hardly think of it—I think he said he would do for her, or something, if the did not come home with him—after that he bid her good night, and we thought he was clear of us—he came back and called her—she turned back—she thought he was going to strike her, and put up her hands, and he then made a dart at her—he did not say anything at the time, he ran away—I think he said, "There, I have done that for you"—she hallooed out, "Oh, Mrs. Bryan, I am stabbed!"—I did not see what he struck her with—I looked behind and saw streams of blood flowing—I assisted her a little way and then, the prisoner came back and laid hold of her, and assisted me in holding her up till the policeman came—I said to him, "Sullivan, you have killed your wife"—he said, "Oh no, she is not dead yet"—in consequence of what she said when she laid down by the doctor's door, I put my hand under her clothes, and put my fingers on the guts.
FRANCIS POLTOCK (policeman, S 46). I know the prisoner—I have been in the habit of seeing him on my beat in Camden-town—about three weeks before this transaction I saw him in Ferdinand-place—I was not aware that he lived in that street, but I knew that his wife lived there—it was about half-past 9 o'clock at night—he had got a mob of people round him, and was calling his wife very bad names—he called her a b—wh—, and a b—b—, and said he would do for her—I think he was sober—he might have been drinking—he did not say it to anybody in particular—he said so in front
of the mob—he said, "Tbe b—b—, if she don't let me come in I will do for her"—I went up and said to him, "My good man go away, and let the woman alone; she will not let you come in, and you had better go away."
Prisoner. I never used the expression. Witness, He did; I am not mistaken in the expression—I got him away—on the night of 26th June, in consequence of an application that was made to me, I went into the Hampstead-road, and found the prosecutrix lying on the pavement—I saw blood coining through her clothes—the prisoner looked up at me, and said, "I have done for the b—b—at last"—I am quite sure I am not mistaken as to that—I think he must have been drinking, by his appearance—he seemed very much excited—I got a cab, and took the woman to the hospital—I knew that the prisoner was living apart from her from what the neighbours said, and from what he said himself.
JULIA SULLIVAN . The prisoner is my husband. On the night of 26th June, I was taken to the hospital—I remained there eleven weeks, and am there up to this time—on 26th June, I was living apart from my husband, and had been doing so about five weeks—before 26th June, I lived with him in Ferdinand-place—my husband has repeatedly come to my place for the purpose of getting me to live with him, and I refused—on 26th, he came between 9 and 10 o'clock at night, came into my room, I was just sitting down—he took hold of me by my left-hand, and said, "Old lady, I have dropped upon you at last"—I think he was sober—I did not see any sign of drink on him—I answered, "You have left me no home, and I shan't go with you; I will do for myself, and get my own living"—I had work then from a gentleman in the same street—I had just come in from work when this happened—an old lady keeps the room—my bed was in it—the prisoner sat himself on the bedside, and said, "Will you come home with me, or shall I stop with you?"—I then gave him the answer I have stated—he had on a jacket, and I saw him put his finger to the jacket-sleeve to something which I thought he had in the sleeve—I said to him, "What have you got in your jacket-sleeve?"—he said, "Why, you foolish woman, do you think I have anything in my jacket-sleeve to take away your life, and send my soul to the devil?"—with that Mrs. Bryan knocked at the door—I said, "Come in"—I asked her to sit down—I was very glad to see her in the room—the prisoner then proposed some beer, and said he would stand It—he still had hold of my hand—I said, I should go for the beer—he said we should all go out and have it—we went out, and went to a public-house kept by Mr. Gurney—it was a goodish distance from my lodging, I believe in the high road—he called for a pot of beer between the three of us—he paid for it—after it was drunk he asked me to stand a pot of beer—I told him I had no beer-money to spend—we then all went out together, and went to another public-house in Kentish-town—he called for a pot of beer there—I made signs to the landlady not to serve him, and she did not—he was not tipsy at that time, but he was cross-like—I saw him drinking part of the pot of beer with me, that was all—we then went into the Black Horse in Kentish-town, and there he was served with a pot of beer—Mrs. Bryan was still with us—we did not sit down at all in that public-house—we were there about a quarter of an hour—the clock was then on the stroke of 12—we then came out together, and came down the Kentish-town-road as for as a turning towards my lodging—I said to Mrs. Bryan, "Do not go far away, stand where you are; I shall be back in a few minutes"—at the same time I shook hands with the prisoner, and said, "Good night! God bless you; and get to bed as well as you can, and I will meet you to-morrow
night anywhere you like to make an appointment"—he then went on towards the bridge, but did not go very far—I followed Mrs. Bryan towards Ferdinand-place—the prisoner called after me by my maiden name, "Julia," and I returned—he said nothing more—I saw him bring his hand from behind his buck, or from his pocket—I put my hands before my face—I thought he was going to strike me on the face—I did not feel anything touch me—I did not feel the knife at all, before I felt the blood running down my legs from my stomach—I put my hand under my clothes, and found myself cut—the top of my finger went info the cut, and I found that part of my entrails were coming out, and I was streaming with blood—I did what I could to retain my entrails—I sat down on the kerb, and called Mrs. Bryan to my assistance, and said that I was stabbed—the prisoner went off a little way, but returned again as I was sitting on the kerb—Mrs. Bryan said, "Oh! Mr. Sullivan, you have killed your wife"—he said, "She is not dead yet, what does she want sitting down here?"—he came and laid hold of my arm—I still had my hands on my stomach, endeavouring to retain my bowels—he on one side and Mrs. Bryan on the other, brought me to Dr. Mushat's—I saw a policeman, and said to him, "I throw my life in your hands"—he came along with me, but I was getting very weak, and by the time I got as Mr. Mushat's I had not a bit of sight—when the prisoner was asking me to come home with him, and I refused, he said, "If you don't come home with me on this night it will be either death or glory," and swore—I said "If you do anything to me you will be surely punished for it; you will surely suffer for it, both in this world and in the next too."
COURT. Q. How long have you been married to him? A. About eleven years—I have had three children by him—none of them are living—I have been married before—I had eight children by my first husband—they are is Ireland, or in America—they are grown up, and able to take care of themselves—I had no child living with me at this time—I had been parted from the prisoner four or five weeks—I was not living alone in this room—Mrs. M'Donald, a widow, was living with me—there was no man living with me—I am sure of that—I had never seen the prisoner inside the door for five weeks till he came—he was wanting me from time to time to come back, and I was refusing.
Prisoner. Did not she go away from me to live with another man, and stay with him three or four weeks; he said he was a single man, and she gave him money to buy clothes, and he sent it to his wife in Ireland.
Witness. He accuses me of what I know nothing about—I never went away from him for three weeks.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Be cautious; this is a very serious matter; on your oath, have you ever been unfaithful to him as a wife? A. Never, in my life; he cannot bring any one to say I have been deceitful to him—he has been a murderer to me, and always was.
THOMAS WALSH . I am thirteen years old, and live at 4, Haverstock-street, Hampstead-road. On the morning of 27th June I opened the shop No. 17, Hampton-terrace, which is a china-shop, where I am errand boy—it is about three minutes' walk from Ferdinand-place—I saw a knife lying in the area—I picked it up; it was shut—there were stains like blood on the handle—Mr. Mushat's, the doctor's, is next door—I knew nothing about this occurrence at that time—I sold the knife to a man at the Railway Tavern—I after wards got it back from him when I heard that the woman had been stabbed, and it was kept in the shop till my mistress gave it to the policeman—I was not present then—this is the knife (produced).
THOMAS GENTLE re-examined. I know the house, 17, Hampton-terrace, next door to Mr. Mushat's—in taking the woman there the prisoner was with me—we had to pass the area of No. 17—another officer received this knife from Mrs. Walsh.
JOSEPH LISTER . I am house-surgeon of University College Hospital. The prosecutrix was brought there about 10 o'clock on the night of 27th June—she was then in the casualty-ward, lying on a stretcher—I examined the lower part of the abdomen—I found, both on the outer and under garments, a vertical cut about two-thirds of an inch long—they were wet with blood and the contents of the intestines—on removing the clothes I found a coil of intestine about eight inches across, comprehending, perhaps, about a yard of the small intestines, protruding from the lower part of the abdomen in'a red congested state—the most prominent part of this coil presented two wounds in the intestine itself; they were almost opposite to each other, transfixed somewhat obliquely—it is no doubt that the two wounds were made by a single stroke—the contents of the intestine, both fasces and flatus, were acaping at the time; there was also a wound in the mesentery—those wounds were of about the same length as the cut in the clothes—no doubt all was done by one instrument and one stroke—the entrails were cleansed with water about the temperature of blood, and I then attempted to return a part of them prior to sewing up the wound—I found it necessary to make the cioatrix wider in order to do so—I was enabled finally to restore them—the injury she had received was excessively dangerous—she is now perfectly recovered, as far as we could judge.
COURT. Q. How many garments were cut through before the body was cut? A. The clothes had been somewhat disturbed before she came in—there were only two garments in their proper position; I am not sure which they were, certainly the shift and one other garment—the knife produced is precisely suited to the production of such an injury.
Prisoner's Defence. When I went to demand this woman, she was standing at the door waiting for the man she lives with; we came out and were drinking together; she had told me before that she would have a better man than me, and she said she had got him; about a fortnight before that, he had met me in the street and knocked me down, and said, "You must not come here to demand your wife any more; if you do, I will break your head;" I had my eye poulticed for a whole week, and could hardly see for a fortnight; she had been lodging with him there for about a month; she gave him money to buy clothes, and he sent the money for his wife to Ireland, and then turned her out; I had been out drinking, and so had she; I was drunk when I came to her; but she will swear anything; she would swear she has not been convicted here of stealing silver-spoons in Holborn, and had twelve months; she told me she would have a better man than me, and said I was no good now; she would not come with me, or let me stay with her; I should not have gone near her if I had not been drunk; I do not know whether I did it, or whether I did not do it; I have some witnesses outside, John White, Jerry Shannon, and Henry White; there were as many knives produced against me at Marylebone as would surprise you; there was a fresh knife every week for eleven weeks.
GUILTY on 3rd Count . Aged 59.— Transported for Twenty Years .
Before Mr. Baron Martin.
1798. HENRY GREGORY , feloniously killing and slaying Daniel Michael Isaacs.—2nd COUNT, describing the deceased as Daniel Michael Dutton: he was also charged on the Coroner's Inquisition with the like offence.
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BRIGGS . I am pot-boy at the George and Dragon, in Hoxton Market. On the evening of 19th Aug. the prisoner, the deceased, and other persons were playing at skittles in the skittle-ground—they played fourhanded at skittles—the prisoner and deceased lost the game; they then played, to see which should pay for the pot of beer—the prisoner lost it—I supplied the beer—I asked the prisoner for the money—he said he had got no money, he would pay me in about a quarter of an hour—he was not sober, he had been drinking there all day—I told him I wanted my money—he were away and came back again—I asked him for the money again—he said he had got no b—y money—I said, "That won't do, you have served me that trick so often; I want the money"—he hit me two or three times on the back of my head with his open hand, and irritated me so that I called him a thief—he said, "What am I?" and I told him so again—Dutton was then at the time—I did not hear him say or do anything—I was sent for a policeman, and saw no more.
JOHN WILLIAM RICKETTS . I live at 28, Norman's-buildings. On the day in question I was in the parlour of this public-house—I got out of the window into the skittle-ground—the first thing that drew my attention was the pot-boy and the prisoner having some words about a pot of beer—I saw the prisoner strike the pot-boy several blows with his open hand—the landlord came out and parted them, and sent for a constable—about a minute elapsed—the deceased got up from his seat, and called the prisoner a b—y thief—the prisoner said something; but what, I cannot exactly say—I believe it was a caution for him not to call him that again—the deceased then said, "If you are not a thief, you are a b—y rogue"—upon that the pritoner stripped off his shirt, and said something—I cannot say what it was; it was a challenge to fight—the deceased was the tallest of the two, and a much older man—I suppose he was about thirty years of age; the prisoner calls himself eighteen or nineteen—they fought four or five rounds—they went to it in earnest—I saw two or three falls; they both fell together—there were two blows given in the last round, and the last blow was given with the left-hand under the right ear—I consider it was a fair fight—there was no unfairnes on either side; only the prisoner remarked at the time of the fight, that he would fight any man in Hoxton—when the last blow was given Dutton was in act of falling, but he was caught up by a man, and never spoke afterwards—he was dragged to a seat, and sat down and bathed—somebody exclaimed, "You have killed the man!"—the prisoner, in a low kind of voice, said, "Oh, God! dont say that," and he dipped a pint pot in some water and took it up to the deceased—I consider the man died directly after he received the blow—I did not observe him revive at all afterwards—I and another went for a doctor, and the prisoner was given into custody.
JURY. Q. Did you see him fall against any form or settle, so as to hurt himself? A. One time he fell against the form of the skittle-ground; he might have hurt himself then for what I know—at another time he fell against the ground itself—that was not in consequence of any blow—they fell both together—in the first round the prisoner was felled by the deceased—he night possibly have fallen on the point of the form once or twice.
the deceased on the following day—death was the result, of effusion on the brain, the consequence of a blow or blows on the head—those blows appeared to have been recently administered.
Prisoner. I wish Horton called.
MRS. DUTTON. The deceased was my son—his name was Daniel Michael Isaacs—he went for many years by the name of Dutton.
GUILTY, under mitigating circumstances . Aged 18.— Confined Two Months.
Before Mr. Justice Talfourd.
MESSRS. LOCKE and W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
DEBORAH LANGDALE . I am the wife of Robert Langdale, who keeps the Custom-house Stores public-house, 79, Lower Thames-street. On Thursday evening, 4th Sept., a little before 11 o'clock, the prisoner came there with two friends—they had four 4d.-worths of gin and water amongst them—they remained very nearly an hour—the prisoner then wished to be served with some more, but I wished the house to be closed, and told him so; he said he-would not go until he had more—I called in Stride, the policeman, who was passing, who came in and coaxed the prisoner to go—after a little time he went away—he had a pipe in his mouth—he was smoking the whole of the time—he was not drunk, but had been drinking—he had nothing, to the best of my belief, but the gin and water.
Cross-examined by MR. O'BRIEN. Q. He had the appearance of having been drinking? A. Yes; but was quite sober enough to know what he was about; I cannot recollect whether I told him he had had sufficient already.
ALFRED STRIDE (City-policeman, 556). On the night of the 4th Sept. I was on my beat in Lower Thames-street—Mrs. Lungdale called me into the Custom-house Stores and told me, in the prisoner's presence, that he had used very insulting and abusive language to her—he said he did not know what he had said for him to be removed—I said, "Take my advice, and leave the house," which he did in about a minute and a half, and went about forty yards from it, and stopped there (my beat went about fifty yards further than that)—I went towards him—he said he would go back to the house—I put my hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner and advised him not to go back, for if he did he would have to put up with the consequences—he took his pipe from his mouth and struck it in my face, saying, "You b—r, take that"—seeing it coming, I knocked off the end of it, and the middle part of the pipe entered the side of my nose—he ran away very fast indeed—he did not appear to be drunk in the least, he stood well when I spoke to him, and seemed to know perfectly well what he was about—I followed him about eighty yards, but did not overtake him—my sergeant took him, and he was taken to the station—I have not been on duty, but have been under the doctors hands ever since—I have suffered a great deal of pain.
Cross-examined. Q. How long was the pipe? A. The full length, with sealing-wax at the end of it—I, by my action, broke off the top—he might have had one or two pints, but was not tipsy, or he could not have gone down the market in the way he did.
to go home—I saw him running in a direction from the custom-house towards Billingsgate-market, Stride followed him, calling out, "Stop him!" he turned down the market, where there are a great many stalls and tables on both sides, where I am sure a drunken man could not have run it is so narrow—he was stopped by sergeant Tregaskis—I went up and receired the prisoner—he is the same man I saw running.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe when he got to the station he became very stupid, and remained so all night? A. I believe he did—he was not taker before the Magistrate in the morning, the surgeon considered him unfit to attend—a surgeon was sent for to see him—I cannot say at what time—at the time the charge was booked the prisoner was placed on a stretcher and taken to Bow-lane station—he got there about half-past 12 o'clock—he did not appear conscious after he got there—I saw him next day, about twenty minutes to 12, lying in one of the rooms belonging to the station—he was taken before the Magistrate on the Saturday, the next day but one to the occurrence.
MR. LOCKE. Q. In what state was he when he was given into year I custody by sergeant Tregaskis? A. He was not drunk; be walked very well without assistance till he got to the station—the station-sergeant was there—it was after he got into the station-sergeant's presence that he became stupid—he was then asked for his name, and refused to give it—I am quite sure he was not stupid or drunk before he went there—I took him just as the clock struck 12—he did not refuse to give his name, but gave no reply.
GEORGE BORLASE CHILDS . I am a fellow of the Royal College of Surgeont, and surgeon to the City-police force. About half-past 12 o'clock on this night Stride called on me at 11, Finsbury-place—I found he had received jagged wound, of about a quarter of an inch in extent, on the left side of the face, just above the upper lip, close to the side of the nose—I probed it; the probe struck on some hard substance, at some depth, resembling the stem of a tobacco-pipe; I found it necessary to enlarge the wound, to expose the upper jaw, and to break down some portion of the upper jaw, to introduce the forceps, and then, after about three-quarters of an hour, I extracted from the upper jaw the stem of a tobacco-pipe two inches long, firmly impacted in the hollow of the jaw—I dressed the wound; inflammation followed, and he is still under my charge—there was no immediate danger, but it was impossible to say what the remote effect might be; it was a very serious injury, the force must have been very great indeed, it pierced the bone of the jaw; it slanted upwards, and if the jaw-bone had not stopped it, it would have entered the eye.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding . Aged 24.— Confined Nine Months.
MR. CAARTEEN conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT FREEBONE (policeman, E 41). I saw the boy Caffrey here as hour ago, outside the door—I was obliged to leave him, as I had another case in the Third Court, and when I came back I could not find him—On Saturday, 4th Sept., between 9 and 10 o'clock at night, I heard screams of "Murder!" as I was standing at the corner of Marchmont-street—several persons came up and said I was wanted—Crescent-mews is near there, runs behind Burton-crescent—I went to 25, Crescent-mews—there was a crowd round the door, which was open—I went in, got a light, and went to a
front-room door at the top of the house—the door was shut—I asked for admittance—it was refused: I cannot tell by whom—I burst the door open, and saw the prisoner, with a red-hot poker in his right hand, holding it by a cloth, which was round the handle—this is it (produced)—his son, John Caffrey, was there, stark naked—I said, "What is the matter?"—the prisoner ordered me out of the room—I said I should not go out—he said I had no business there—I asked the boy, in the prisoner's presence, what had been the matter—he said, "He has been beating me with a red-hot poker"—I saw several marks on the boy's back, breast, and thighs, as of a warm iron—the prisoner's wife was not there at that time—the prisoner insisted on my going out of the room—I would not, but laid hold of him, and said he was my prisoner—He said, "I will see yon b—d before I will go with yon," and made a blow, which broke the rim of my hat—I was eventually driven out of the room—I obtained the assistance of Harris and several other constables—I got into the room again, and the prisoner and his wife threw me over the stairs—he was taken into custody.
Prisoner. I was done beating the boy long before this policeman came in; who was on the landing at the time? Witness, No one—I heard cries of "Murder!" from your room—I did not collar you—your boy did not, in my presence, take up a fire-shovel, and say, "If he comes up again I will split him with this"—at the time I burst the door open your wife came up, and you and her threw me down-stairs.
Prisoner. Q. Who was in the room when you came into the room after I was taken into custody? A. Your wife only. Nothing of the kind—after I had been to the station, I returned, searched the room, and found the poker hot in the fireplace.
SAMUEL WALGRAVE . I am surgeon to the infirmary of St. Pancras's workbouse. The boy was brought to me last Saturday week by the police—I examined him—the whole of his back was severely bruised—there was a burn on the top of the back, ten inches long, and at the bottom of the back a burn two inches long; one on the upper portion of the chest, three inches long; one on the right arm, three inches long; another on the left arm, three inches long; one on the light thigh, two inches long; another on the left thigh, two inches long; and one on the left leg, three inches long—the skin was destroyed at the two burns at the back, and the burn on the chest—such an instrument as this poker might have caused the burns.
Prisoner. There was a pot of hot tea in the fireplace; he says that instrument could inflict ten inches of wound. Witness. It would produce a wound much longer than that if it was run along when it was hot—there was no burning on the boy which I attribute to a scald, nor any blisters.
Prisoner's Defence. I have one of the worst boys a good father or mother ever had, which the respectable people in the neighbourhood can prove; no father could strive to rear a child with greater honesty than I have, but he has brought scandal and disgrace upon me; I was often obliged to chastise him and he has brought me into that state of mind that I was nearly putting an end to myself, but, thank God, I recovered; he is an old thief; he worked
for Mr. Parker, and robbed him; I gave him half-a-crown to fetch me some victuals on the 1st of this month, and he ran away, and left me destitute; I caught him, and brought him home, and left him with his mother, and told her to take his clothes off, and hide them away where he could not get them, that he might not make away; so she did; she went out every day to work, the same as myself, and paid a woman to mind the children; when I came home to breakfast he was in bed; I never spoke a word to him; between that and dinner-time he got out of bed, and managed to find some very old trowsers, and made the little girl, six years of age, collect all the old clothes belonging to the children, and make away with them, for 21/2 d., and a yard of ticking, and before I came home to dinner he was off; we could not find him anywhere till 8 or 9 o'clock; when I got home again, there he was sitting in the room, naked; I told my wife I would give him a good hiding; she went out, and returned as I was beating him with a strap; he ran at me several timer; I shoved him from me, and he went against the fireplace; I was guilty of no brutality to the boy; I am the father of twelve children, and would not do such a thing; I have not beaten him for this twelvemonth, thinking he would become a good boy; since he has been in prison, he has said to the other boys that he would not mind what he said to condemn his father; he was taken for stealing a pair of shoes last Whitsuntide two years, and another time they ordered me to take him home, and see what I could do with him; there was another witness, named Woolahan, to prove that he was on the stain from eight to nine minutes, and he never heard a blow from my room.
GUILTY of unlawfully Wounding . Aged 42.— Confined Fifteen Months.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, September 17th, 1851.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. KELLY; Mr. Ald. HUMPHERY; Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. CHALLIS.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Fifth Jury.
GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Four Months.
(There was another indictment against the prisoner.)
BENJAMIN STAFFORD . I get my living by jobbing with a horse and cart; I live at No. 24, Ann's-place, Hackney-road. I had a bay mare, which I kept in my stable there—I had another horse at the time in that stable—or Saturday, 23rd Aug., I left my mare safe in the stable about 4 o'clock; the stable was not locked—I went to the stable again about 6 that evening, and the mare was gone—I saw it again on the following Tuesday in North-street, Whitechapel, in possession of Thompson—on the Sunday morning, the day after I lost the mare, I saw the prisoner—I asked him what he had done with the mare—he said he had sold it to a gentleman—I asked him who authorized him to take the mare—he told me I might ax his b—y a——the mare was worth 6l.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say I would meet you at your house at 8 o'clock on Monday morning? A. I do not remember the time you you would be at my house the next morning—I did not buy the mare to sell, I intended to work it.
JAMES STAFFORD . I am the prosecutor's brother, and live with him; I knew the bay mare. On Saturday, 23rd Aug., I saw the prisoner at my brother's stable-door, about ten minutes or a quarter before 6 o'clock in the evening—he had the mare, leading her with the halter—I told him to put the mare up till such time as my brother came home—he said he was only going to the public-house up the street, and my brother was to come there as soon as he came home—he said, "Tell Ben to come to the public-house up the street, and I will wait there for him"—he said he was going to take the mare to the public-house to show her to a man who wanted to buy one—he did not say anything about bringing her back—I did not tell the Magistrate that the prisoner said he would bring it back—they read my statement to me; I was not listening; I know I never mentioned the words.
JOHN CLARK . I live at Halstead, in Essex, and am a horse-dealer. On Saturday night, 23rd Aug., I saw the prisoner in North-street, Whitechapel, a little after 6 o'clock, leading a bay mare—I bought it of him—he asked me 10l. for it—I bought it for 8l.; I paid him 50s. deposit, and was to pay the rest on Monday morning—he told me he had bought her of Page, the horsedealer—I put the mare in Mr. Thompson's stable, in North-street—I saw her afterwards, when the police gave her up to the man who owned her—it was the same mare that I had bought of the prisoner.
RICHARD HAWKES (police-sergeant, N 6). I took the prisoner on Sunday evening, 24th Aug.—I told him I wanted him for stealing a horse, belonging to Stafford, in Anu's-place—he said, "The horse belonged to me, and I have sold it"—I was out looking for the horse, and while I was out, another officer went with Stafford to Mr. Thompson, and got the mare—he gave it up to me; I had it several days—I was directed by the Magistrate, at the last examination, to give it up to the owner.
COURT to BENJAMIN STAFFORD. Q. Did you go to Thompson's stable with a policeman? A. Yes, and showed him the mare—I do not know what the prisoner means by claiming this mare—I never had any dealings with him—we never bought any horses together—nor a horse.
Prisoner. Q. Did you and I sell one in Worship-street? A. No; I sold it—you and I did not sell one at the Swan; you took me there, but I sold it—you and I did not buy this one; I bought it myself of Mr. Page—I gave 5S. deposit, and Mr. Page sent a man to the field with me—the mare was caught, and tied to the back of the cart; and we called at a public-house and had a drop of beer, and I paid 4l. 10s. more—it was my own money—the prisoner came and said to me that Mr. Page had one that would suit me, and I went to Mr. Page and bought it.
Prisoner. He is swearing false; I worked for him three months; we sold six horses together; I bought this horse, and I can prove it; I paid the 5s.; be never knew the man, nor saw the man, till I took him there. Witness. I bought it on the Friday week before I lost it, I paid the deposit; but I paid for her on the Saturday morning—when I came home on Saturday evening, the 23rd, I saw my brother, and in consequence of what he said, I went to the public-house—I went about thirty miles, running about everywhere—I went to Whitechapel on Monday, for a butt of wash—I was talking to a man at a door, and saw my mare in a dead horse cart—I had paid the prisoner for his commission; I paid him 5s. for taking me to look at this mare—I always paid him for what he did for me—on the Saturday evening that I bought her, I had to go to Chelsea to do a job, and the prisoner let himself into the yard, and took the mare away for two or three hours, and
brought her home safe—I saw him again on the Monday, and told him not to take a horse away without my knowing it.
COURT to MR. CLARK. Q. When was the remainder of the money to he paid? A. On the Monday morning, in North-street, where I was to see the prisoner again—he said it was his own horse, and he bought it of Page.
GUILTY . Aged 48. The prisoner was also charged with having been before convicted: to which he pleaded Guilty. The certificate stated that the presoner was convicted in 1843, of stealing a gelding, having then been before convicted. Transported for Ten Years .
ROBERT WEST . I am waiter at Mr. Rippin's, the Black Horse Tavern, is Oxford-street. The prisoner was potboy there, I think about four or five weeks—I took a 5l. bank-note from Mr. Pace, on 5th Aug., to get change—I lost the note—I do not know whether I dropped it out of my pocket, or whether it was stolen from me—it was given me in the club-room and dining. room—I was busy in the room, and I went in the parlour, and down in the kitchen—I had not taken it to the bar to get change—instead of getting change, I continued waiting on people—I missed the note in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, when the gentleman inquired for his change—when I missed it, I spoke to my master, and to the prisoner, and to most of the personer in the house—the prisoner said he was very sorry—in about ten minutes after, he said that people might think that he picked it up—I said, "It was as likely to be you as any one else; I wish it had been you, because I should get it again"—he said, "Yes; "and said he had not seen it—he said next day, that he knew nothing about it—the note was stopped at the Bank; I took the number to the Bank—I believe it was on 13th Aug. I saw it—the prisoner was taken after that—I have known Eliza Wood since this occurrence—not before.
THOMAS EVANS (policeman, 145 C). I took the prisoner's mother into custody on 15th Aug.—the bill against her was thrown out—I was present at the police-court on 20th Aug., when the prisoner was brought there by his father-in-law—I heard what the prisoner said before the Magistrate.
ELIZA WOOD . I am single; I know the prisoner's mother, Mrs. Saunders—I was working for her for two or three days—I remember her giving me a 5l-note—I cannot say on what day—it was three or four days or a week before I was examined—she said, "Eliza, go across and ask Mrs. Briggs what I owe her, and ask if she can change me this note"—I went, but did not get change of her, I got change at Mr. Hind's butter-shop, at the corner of Golden-lane—I gave the change to Mrs. Saunders.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you tell me not to say that I gave the note to my uncle? A. No; it is quite false.
COURT. Q. Has the prisoner an uncle? A. Yes, Thomas Dunn, he is a baker, and is Mrs. Saunders's brother—the prisoner spoke to me about his uncle, and I said, "I don't know anything about that; all I know is, I got it from Mrs. Saunders"—I did not see the uncle about it.
GEORGE HIND . I am a cheesemonger, and live at the corner of Golden-lane, I remember Wood coming to me and getting change for a 5l.-note on 7th Aug.—I put her address and the day of the month on the back of the note—this is it—I paid it to Mr. Cotton, a wholesale cheesemonger, in the Commercial-road—there were two or three names on it when I took it—I do not recollect what they were.
GEORGE DYER . I am a clerk in the Bank of England. This note was paid into the Bank on 11th Aug. by the London and Westminster Bank in a total of 800l.—we had orders to stop the note, and we sent notice to the prosecutor.
GEORGE PACE . I was in the dining-room at Mr. Rippins' on 5th Aug.—I gave a 5l.-note to West to get change—he came up in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I asked him for the change, and then the note was missing—I knew the number of it, and gave it the same evening—this is the note, it is No. 46671, here is my writing on it; the name of the party I took it of, Mr. Hawit, my brother-in-law, and my own name likewise.
THOMAS EVANS re-examined. I heard the prisoner examined before the Magistrate—the Magistrate told him he was not obliged to say anything, and what he said would be taken down and used against him at his trial—this is Mr. Bingham's signature—(read—"The prisoner says, 'I found the note outside the door; I sent it home to ask what I had better do with it."
Prisoner's Defence. I gave it to my uncle, what be did with it afterwards I cannot say; I wish my mother to be examined.
GUILTY . Aged 21,—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Confined Four Days .
MR. BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY ADAM NEWMAN . I am a clothier. I have lately been a bankrupt—I carried on business in Jury-street, Aldgate—the prisoner was in my employ as clerk and collector—he left my service at the latter end of April—he did not give me notice of his intention to leave—I missed a great number of articles at different times—I know Mr. Varley, a clothier—he made a communication to me, and I got the assistance of an officer—I went with him to watch the place where the prisoner lived, in Queen-square, Eldon-street, Moorfields—the officer was in plain clothes—I saw the prisoner's wife bring out a paper parcel—we followed her to Mr. Sarson's, the vinegar-ground, in the City-road, where the prisoner was employed—his wife went in—she came out, and I followed her back again to Wilson-street—I there saw the prisoner come running down the street after his wife—she gave him the parcel—I desired the officer to take him into custody with it—this is the parcel—it, contains three pairs of trowsers, three waistcoats, and a coat—they are my property—they had not been sold or disposed of by me in any way—they cost about 35s.—I had a customer named Milroyd, in Cornhill—I did not desire the prisoner to forward these things to him—two pairs of these trowsers and one waistcoat are marked inside, and have no tickets, but all the goods that were sent to Mr. Milroyd's were marked on tickets outside—I had no occasion to put the private mark on them—these other three articles have no private mark on them.
COURT. Q. Three of these have your private mark on them, and therefore you infer that they could not have been sent to Mr. Milroyd's? A. Yes; these other three that have not the private mark may have been sent to Mr. Milroyd's for what I know.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. You have been a bankrupt more than once, I believe? A. I have been very unfortunate, through such men as this—I have been a bankrupt before; in one instance I paid 12s. 6d. in the
pound, and I was then sued for 20s. in the pound, and paid 32s. 6d. and that drove me to the Insolvent Court—the prisoner lived in Mr. Sarson's employ before he came to me—when I have been in these difficulties I have sent out clothes to sell—in one instance the prisoner took a lot to Mr. Ommanney's, he said he knew a person who would take some—in another instance he went to Golden-lane, and he went once more I believe—one time he brought the goods back—the other time he took some to Mr. Milroyd's, and what became of them I do not know—the third time I cannot tell what was done—the goods were put down on a slip of paper—I have looked at my book, there is only one parcel entered to the prisoner; that is Mr. Milroyd's, they were never brought back—my books are in the hands of the assignees—during the time the prisoner lived with me be had a waistcoat, a brown great coat, and a pair of gray trowsers—I put the private mark in all the goods in my shop except those which come in with tickets, I have no occasion to mark them—I had two workmen beside the prisoner, one of them was Tallant—Tallant has gone once or twice to dispose of trowsers for me—he has pawned things, but they were a different description of goods altogether—only the goods which were sold were entered in the book—I cannot say when I had these goods in stock, but they could not have been cut out till about March—I cut them out myself—it was about halt-past 5 o'clock in the afternoon when I saw the prisoner's wife with the parcel.
MR. BODKIN. Q. A parcel ought to have gone to Mr. Milroyd's three months ago? A. Yes; I sent the prisoner for it several times, and he brought word that Mr. Milroyd's customers from abroad had not come, but when they came he would endeavour to make a good parcel for us; but it appears the prisoner had been and got the parcel three days afterwards, and sold it to Benjamin.
HENRY FINNIS . I am an officer. I went with Mr. Newman, and saw the prisoner's wife come out with this parcel—she went to the Vinegar-ground; she was in there ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—she then came out with the same parcel, and came to Wilson-street—her husband came there, and she gave him the parcel—I took him with them—he said he had not stolen them, they were goods that he had, and he spoke of Mr. Milroyd at the station—said he had an account with the prosecutor, and he had paid him part of he the money—I went to the prisoner's lodging, and found a number of duplicates, one of which was for this pair of trowsers, which I got from the pawnbroker's in consequence of the duplicate.
MR. NEWMAN. These are my goods, and had not been sold—the prisoner only had one pair of trowsers or me, which I have never been paid for—they were of a different colour to these—that was before he came to, my service.
Cross-examined. Q. How long ago is it that he had that pair? A. Some time in Oct. last—no other person in my employ was allowed to sell a pair of trowsers—the prisoner's wages were 14s. a week—there was not a disputed account between him and me—he has not said that I owe him money—the last week that he was in my employ he received 4l., and he started away without his wages, he owes me 26l. that he embezzled from me.
SAMUEL VARLEY . I am a clothier, and live in Drury-lane. I know the prisoner—he was in Mr. Newman's employ—the prisoner called on me last Saturday week—he said, "Have you heard about Newman being in the Bankruptcy Court?"—I said, "No"—he said, "He is, and he is a very
great rascal; he has robbed everybody, and has kept no book, and no account of his expenses"—I had heard that he had embezzled some money of Mr. Newman, and I said, "You had bout 26l. of his, had not you?"—he said, "I did"—I said, "How is that? you ought to have been transported "—he said, "Newman let me off; I have to pay him so much a week; I will tell you what I came about; I have got a few goods that I have made"—I said, "What do you mean?"—he said, "You know what I mean; I got them out as samples from time to time, and never took them back"—he said, "I want to sell them, but I shall want a fair price for them"—I said, "I I will give yon as much as anybody else will"—he went away, and said he would bring them on the Monday following—I sent word to Mr. Newman.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known Mr. Newman? A. Seven years; I have dealt with him—I never was a bankrupt, or in the Insolvent Court—the prisoner must have known that—I knew Mr. Newman, and Mr. Newman knew me; and he knew that there had been a difference between us—there are plenty of other persons who buy clothes as well as myself—if I send trowsers out as patterns they are always brought back again—I have known the prisoner as a clerk—I have paid him money many times.
Prisoner's Defence. Mr. Newman knew that I had these goods four months ago; if I had the journal here I could prove it; they were sent to Mr. Milroyd's, and lay there two months or more; I used to go to him occasionally, and they had occasionally West India merchants over, and when they come they give considerable orders, and these were left for that purpose; my employ was to do the best I could, not only to collect, and at the books, but to make sales; I took out goods, and he agreed to give me a per-centage of 5l.; he was in difficulties when I went to him; he has known me sixteen years; he knew me when I was in business in the woollen-trade; I let him have above 20l. worth of goods, and not a single halfpenny have I had of it; I had a few goods of him, and that is all.
GUILTY . Aged 37.— Confined Six Months.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, September 17th, 1851.,
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. KELLY; Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Seventh Jury.
GUILTY . Aged 16.— Confined Four Months.
MR. HUDDLESTON conducted the Prosecution.
JANE HUNT . I am a widow, and live at 2, Three Herring-court, Cripplegate. On Friday, 22nd Aug., the prisoner came to lodge there, and brought two children, one by her side, and another in her arms, which appeared to be eighteen months old, but was not able to walk or talk—while the prisoner was there she was always drunk, and in a state of stupor—she was in the habit of going out for drink, and bringing it home in a bottle—she had plenty of money—on the Tuesday she was so much intoxicated that
she fell from her door at the top of the stairs to the bottom—on the Thursday I went up-stairs with two more people, and found the infant in a most awful disgusting filthy state for any one to leave a dog or cat in—there was part of the crust of the bottom-part of a loaf lying by its head—three of the child's fingers were clung together from the filthy state of its nose, and with the other hand it had managed to pick out pieces of bread from the loaf—I took it down-stairs, washed it, and gave it some milk—I sent my lad up to the mother the same night to ask if she would let me give it some gruel, and she positively refused, and I offered to take it down and warm it, but she refused to allow me—on the Friday, in consequence of its having cried so bitterly on the Thursday night, I was determined to go and see it, for I thought it had died and I found it lying on the bed insensible, as though dead, without any covering on it, and the prisoner drunk by its side—I roused the prisoner as well as I could, and said, "If you do not light a fire, and give the child nourishing food, the parish authorities shall be made acquainted with this, for I am certain the child will die"—I gave information to Mr. Lloyd, the parish surgeon—he gave me directions, in consequence of which the child was takes to the police, and ultimately before Sir George Carroll—the child was a complete skeleton with scarcely skin enough to cover its bones—the fire was not lighted more than once during the week the prisoner lodged there—the other child was supplied with food from one of the neighbours—the prisoner told me her name was Johnson, that she was married, and her husband was a commercial traveller in the City—the infant was a girl, and she used to call it Mary Ann.
Prisoner. Q. What had you, your husband, and me to drink on the moreing I was given into custody? A. I never took any drink with you, and I have no husband—I did not have a quartern of rum with you, which you purchased with your last sixpence—I did not want yon to pawn a bed—I never spoke to you, except about the child—I said, "Do you hear your dear child crying?" and you said, "Yes; she is very bad, and so am I"—I know the prisoner had money, because she let some fall on the stairs, and she said she had two sovereigns.
THOMAS LLOYD . I am a surgeon, of New Basinghall-street, and am the medical officer of the East London Union. This child was brought to me on 29th Aug.—it was very much emaciated, which was the result of gross neglect—it appeared to be suffering from want of food and proper nourishment—it was taken to the workhouse, and wholesome food administered to it—I do not think it would have lived twenty-four hours, if proper means had not been taken—it improved, and gained strength in the workhouse, ind in three or four days I scarcely knew it—it died on 11th Sept. from inflammstion of the lungs—I am not able to trace the death to the cause of neglect, but in consequence of being in that state it lost its chance of recovery—if it had had proper nourishment before, it might have overcome the disease.
THOMAS BAILEY . I live at 14, Circus-street, Bryanstone-square. In May, the prisoner took a room of me, and paid me 2s. a week while she remained, which was nearly three months—she had two children, and told my wife that her husband was a commercial traveller, but I found out afterwards that she was in keeping—she had plenty of money—she neglected the younger child very much, and it was in the most filthy dirty state it was possible to be in, not fit for a pig to be in—she was scarcely sober while she was with us, and was once locked up in the station-house in consequence—after that she was very good for a month, and the children improved rapidly—the then took to drink again, and was ten times worse.
JOSEPH HODGES (City-policeman, 120). I took the prisoner on 29th Aug., she was in a state of stupor, having been drunk and partially recovered—the child was in a beastly filthy state—it was a mere skeleton, and appeared to be quite sore—on the Monday following it was so much improved I scarcely knew it—I saw no food in the prisoner's room, except a dry crust.
Prisoner. Q. Was I lying or standing in the room when you came? A. Standing.
Prisoner's Defence. The child has always been delicate; I have done all in my power for it; I put it out to nurse, for which I paid 5s. a week; Mr. Bailey and his wife were always drinking with me.
GUILTY . Aged 28.— Confined Six Months.
ELIZA GRANVILLE . I am single. On 3rd Sept, I was landing from a steamboat at London Bridge, and missed my purse, which I had safe in my pocket a minute before—I saw the prisoner before me in the crowd—he fell down over a step, and I saw my purse between his fingers—I called out—the captain caught him—he got away from him, and the policeman stopped him—there was 6d., 1d., and 1/2 d. in the purse—this is it (produced).
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What boat was it? A. The Ant, halfpenny boat—it was very crowded—the people pass out over a board—the prisoner was about two yards from me when I saw the purse in his hand—there were a great many people between me and him—when he gut up again he commenced running—I did not see the purse thrown away—I am a servant out of place—Esther Bull was with me.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known Granville? A. Two years—I am single—I am a servant, but have been out of place three weeks—I was on the pier when the prisoner threw the purse—I cannot say whether it was the captain, or any one else who caught the prisoner, because I stooped to pick the purse up—I have no family—I was in St. Giles, Work-house last Christmas—I had a child there, but it is dead—I have had two, bat they are both dead—I was three months in my last place—I have not been in many places.
ANDREW SMITH . I am master of the Ant steamboat—I recollect the prosecutrix being on board on 3rd Sept.—when we came to London Bridge I heard a cry, saw the prisoner running, and caught him on the pier.
Cross-examined. Q. It is rather difficult to run away from the Ant, is it not? A. No; he was very nimble—there may have been a step to go up to London-bridge—it is a moveable platform—it was not low-water time, Perhaps about half up.
GUILTY . Aged 18.
The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted.
JOSEPH DALTON . I am a police-officer, of Dorsetshire. I was in the city-police—I produce a certificate—(read—Central Criminal Court, William Brian, convicted on his own confession, Nov., 1847, of stealing from the person—Confined three months)—I was present—the prisoner is the same person.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Are you sure he is the person? A. Yes; I have been in the country—it is five or six years since the
conviction—he gave his age thirteen—(the Sessions Paper of Nov., 1847, being referred to, stated William Brian's age to be twelve)—I believe he was tried in the New Court, before the late Common Serjeant.
JURY. Q. Did you see him after his conviction, and before the present lime? A. Yes, about the streets; and I know him by a mark on his face I have had to pick him out from among others—I have been in the country two years.
GUILTY.— Confined Twelve Months.
MARK LOOME (policeman, B 11). I produce a certificate, which I received from Rebecca Ratliff—I produce another one from Trinity Church, Islington, which I and the clergyman compared together with the register—it is a correct copy—(read—this was a certificate of the marriage of Henry Thomas Smith and Frances Adams, on 3rd Sept., 1839)—I took the prisoner into custody on last Saturday week, and told him I took him for marrying two women—he said he was only twenty years old when he marriel the first woman, and it was illegal.
MARY ANN HAZELL . I am the wife of Henry Hazell, of Palmer-street, Hollo way. On 3rd Sept., 1839, I was present at Trinity Church, Is omgton, when the prisoner was married to my sister Frances Adams—I signed the register—my sister is now living at Holloway—I saw her this morning.
Prisoner. Q. When I married your sister, was she not very heavy in the family way by another man? A. Yes; she was not confined three days after the marriage, she was three weeks after—she did not leave you a fortnight after she was confined.
REBECCA RATLIFF . I know the prisoner—he was married to me on 4th Feb., 1846, at St. George's Church, Southwark—the certificate which has been produced was given me at the Church at the time—I do not will him to be punished, I merely wish to be separated from him.
Prisoner's Defence. I was only acquainted with my first wife three weeks before we were married, during which time the banns were pot up; we were married on a Tuesday, and on the following Friday she was delivered of a male child, which she said was by another man; she told me she only married me to get a home, and that she might not be deemed a wh—; she laid in bed a fortnight, and then left me, and is now living with another man.
GUILTY . Aged 32.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Confined Four Months.
GUILTY . Aged 29.— Confined Four Months.
GUILTY . Aged 22.—Recommended to mercy.— Confined Six Months.
NOT GUILTY .
1813. MARY CUMMINGS , stealing 2 twenty-franc pieces, 2 five-franc pieces, 10 pieces of foreign coin, value 2l. 4s. 6d., 1 sovereign, 1 half-crown. and 4 shillings; the moneys of Giovanni Tirone, from his person.
am lodging at the Ranelagh Club, Ranelagh-road, Thames Bank. On the night of 14th Sept. I was in the street, about a quarter of a mile from where live—I cannot explain where it was, because I am a stranger here—I met the prisoner and another woman, and walked with them a short distance—I went with the prisoner into a place where there were buildings going on, and I had connexion with her—the other woman remained a little distance off—I gave the prisoner one shilling from my purse, which I took from my trowsers-pocket, and put back again—she could see me take the shilling out of my purse—I had also two twenty-franc pieces, two five-franc pieces, an Austrian coin, three Genoese coins, one sovereign, one half-crown, and four or five shillings also, in my purse—we then left; and after the prisoner had gone, I missed my purse and money—I ran after the prisoner, but did not catch her—I gave information to the police—I am quite sure the prisoner is the tame woman—this money (produced) is what was in the purse—there is no mark on it, but it is foreign money—I have not seen the purse since.
HENRY PAULINO (policeman, B 33). On the morning of the 15th I received information, and afterwards took the prisoner and another female into custody, in Peter-street, Westminster—I told the prisoner she was charged with robbing a foreigner; she made no reply—I took her to the station, and she there said, "It served him d—d well right; they are a very mean set; they never give more than 1."—she put her hand into her pocket, and took out some money; I grasped her hand, and took 5s. 6d. and some foreign copper pieces from it—she was afterwards searched by the female searcher, and I received the money from her—the prisoner said the prosecutor gave her one foreign piece, and another Frenchman gave her the other pieces.
Prisoner. I said several foreigners gave me foreign pieces.
ELIZA JOHNSON . I am the female searcher at Vincent-square station. On 15th Sept., about 1 o'clock in the morning, I searched the prisoner there, and found the seven foreign coins before produced, and one English half-crown, in a small white handkerchief, in her bosom—I gave them to Pauling—I said to the prisoner, "It is not long since I had you at Clerkenwell?"—she said, "No, it is not; but I suppose I shall be lagged this time."
Prisoner's Defence. I came out with 5s. 6d., and met with some foreigners, who gave me the foreign pieces; I was taken up before, on suspicion, and let out.
GUILTY .*† Aged 24.— Transported for Seven Years .
MARY DEARMAN . I am a widow, and live at King's Head-yard, Clapton. The prisoner is my daughter, and lived with me—I lost a blanket, carpet, some petticoats, gowns, shawls, boots, some children's frocks, and trowsers, worth about 2l.—I had seen them safe about a week before—I asked my daughter if she knew where they were, and she first said she knew nothing about them—on 23rd Aug. I found three duplicates in a pillow-case under the prisoner's head—one of them related to a shawl, and another to the carpet—the prisoner afterwards said she had pledged the articles—these five petticoats, blanket, shawl, and carpet (produced), are mine—she has never pawned anything for me, and had no authority to do it.
times—I never saw her before the first time she came, but am quite sure she is the person.
RICHARD CLARKE (policeman, N 223). I took the prisoner into custody—on the way to the station, she told me the things were pledged at Mr. Burgess's—I received the tickets from Mrs. Dearman, and Mr. Burgess produced all the articles.
GUILTY . Aged 20.
The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted: to which she pleaded GUILTY.— Confined Twelve Months.
There was another indictment against the prisoner.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, September 18th, 1851.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Sixth Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
(MR. HUDDLESTON offered no evidence.)
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE GIBSON . I am an engineer; I live at Woollaston, near Newcastle, On 22nd Aug. I was lodging at the Captain of a Man-of-War, in High-street, Poplar—I had in my possession ten 10l.-notes and fifty-three sovereigns—while I was there I saw the prisoner generally every evening in the public coffee-room, where I used to take my meals—he used to come in to smoke a cheroot and read the paper—I got into conversation with him—on 1st Sept. I told him I wanted to find a Mr. Miller, who lived in St. John's-wood—he directed me, and told me he was going to the Yorkshire Stingo, and to meet him there it 2 o'clock—I went, and found Mr. Miller's, but he was not at home—I went to the Yorkshire Stingo, and met the prisoner soon after 2 o'clock—we had something there, and walked arm-in-arm to Oxford-street—when we got there, I said, "Now I know my way home"—the prisoner said, "I don't feel very well after taking that ale at the Yorkshire Stingo; will you go and have something to drink?"—we went to a house, and had something, and came out again—he then said, "You wait here about five minutes; I have a little business to settle over the way; if I am not back in five minutes, you go away"—he left me to go across the road, and he could not have more than crossed the road when a second man came up and accosted me by name—I had seen that second man that morning at the public-house where I was lodging—he was standing at the bar—when he came to me he asked me if I would go and take something to drink—I told him I was waiting for a friend who was gone across the road, and I should not like to lose him—he said, "Come in here, and we can see when he comes across," and he pointed to the same public-house that I had been in with the prisoner—we went in, and went to a front window in the billiard-room, in order that I might see my friend—I stood there from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour, and did not
see him—the second man then said, "Mr. Gibson, you had better sit down; it appears your friend is not coming back"—I sat down, and just as I was sitting down, in came a third man, whom I had not seen before—he said he hoped he did not intrude into our company—I told him, no, we had no private conversation; the room was as free to him as it was to us, and he had a right to sit in it if be thought proper—he sat down, and called for a glass of brandy and water, cold—in about five minutes the second man said to me, "Mr. Gibson, were you ever in America?"—I told him, no, I never was—the third man then said, "I have just arrived from there"—the second man said, "I have an idea of going there myself, and I should like to know what would be the best business for a person to embark in"—the third man said he did not understand anything about trade or business, for he had been living servant with a batchelor gentleman, who was dead; he had lived eleven yean with him; and as he had spent the best part of his time with him, he had left him 22,000l., and in his will he had left directions that he was to distribute 400l. to the poor in different parishes in England, not naming what parishes—he asked me what parish I belonged to—I said, "To Woolaston"—he asked if there were many poor there—I said, "Yes"—he then asked the second man what parish he belonged to—he said, "To Bath"—he asked if there were many poor there—he said, "Yet, a great many"—he said, well, as we appeared to be respectable persons, he would give each of us 20l. for the poor of those parishes, on condition that we could prove that we were respectable persons, and persons not likely to keep this money ourselves, and he said he would give us a new hat a piece for distributing the money—he said he had brought his lawyer over from America with him, and he had left his lawyer that day, not long since—he said he had just come from the Bank, and he pulled out a lot of what I took to be 5l.-notes, and he pulled out a paper, about three or four inches long, with a double row of sovereigns in it, but those he held in his hand; I could only see the end of them—he said the advice his lawyer gave him was that he should be particular who he gave this money to; that he had to distribute, and not to give it to the officers of the parish, as it sometimes was the case that they did not give it to the poor, but put it into their own pockets, and the poor did not get it; but that he should give it to respectable persons, who would give a few shillings to one, and a few shillings to another—the second man then said, "I can show you as much as 50l., to show you that I am a person of sufficient respectability to receive this money;" and he said, "I dare say Mr. Gibson, my friend, can show you as much"—I said, "Yes, I can show you 150l. for that matter, to convince you that I am a person of sufficient respectability"—we all three left the house, and took an omnibus, and came to the Bull's Head, in Leadenhall-street, and we went in, and it was arranged that we should meet there and show our money—I then went to the public-house where I was lodging, to get my money—the second man went with me—he left me at the corner of Robin Hood-lane, and we were to return to the Bull's Head, in Leadenhall-street—I went to the public-house where I lodged, to get my money—I got there about 20 minutes or half-past six—I might be twenty minutes op-stairs gatting the money—I then returned to the Bull's Head, in Leadenhall-street, with the second man—we had gone to Black wall together, and went back together—we went into the Bull's Head, and the third man followed us into the room where we had been sitting previously—when we got in, the second man showed him a lot of notes, and I showed him ten 10l.-notes and fiftythree sovereigns—the third man said he was perfectly satisfied that we had the money—I had counted my money on the table, and put it back again into
my purse—the third man then got up to leave the room for some purpose—I supposed he was going to the back-door—as he was leaving, the second man said, "You will not leave us now?"—he said, "No," and he took out those sovereigns that he had in his pocket, and put them into the second man's hat—he came in again in a few minutes, and took the money again—the second man then said to me, "Now we will go and get each a 20s.-stamp to receive this money"—the third man then went to the window, and lifted up the little red curtain—that window looks into the street—he held the curtain up for a moment, and did not stop to look any time—he then came and sat down, and the second man and I got up to go and get the two stamps—the third man said, "But you will not leave me, you will not run away now?"—I said, "No, certainly not"—the second man said, "Of course, Mr. Gibson, you will leave a deposit with him, the same as he has done with us"—I said, "Certainly," and I put my hand into my pocket, and took out my purse, containing the 153l., and put it into his hat, as a guarantee for my returning, leaving the hat on the table—I and the second man then left the room, to get the two 20l.-stamps; and as we got to the door, I happened to meet the prisoner—I stopped, and said, "Halloo, Mr. Smith, what are you doing here?"—he laid hold of me by my left arm—I took it to be in a friendly manner—then the second man, who was a little in front, returned, and held me by my right-arm, and the prisoner by my left—I just turned myself, and I saw the person with the money, the third man, coming walking along the passage—I tried to extricate myself from the other two, but I could not—I said, "Let me go—let me go!"—but they still held me, and I could not get away—I was so petrified and astonished that I had not power to call anybody, or make any alarm—I tried to extricate myself from them—they still held me fast, and by-and-bye they gave me a pull, and pulled me bang off the door-step into the middle of the footpath, and the third man passed me, and crossed the street—I did not see that he had anything with him—he had his hat on, and he ran across the street—I did not know that there was a passage opposite the public-house; I thought he would run up the street—I was then more resolute than I had been, and broke from those men—I ran across the street in a slanting direction, to get before him; but I could not find him—then the thought struck me that I had heard of such passages in London; I came back and found the passage—I went through it, but I could not find him—I came into the other street which, I suppose, is Fenchurch-street—I stood about, wondering which way the man was gone; and the prisoner came to me and said, "What is the matter?"—I said, "I have had a heavy loss"—he said, "What?"—I said, "Ten 10l.-notes, and some sovereigns"—I do not know whether I told him how many sovereigns, but I said I knew the numbers of the notes—he said, "Don't make a noise, come along with me; and he took me to a house and gave me a small glass of brandy—we came out, and he said, "Don't make any noise, but go directly home, and go to bed; and to-morrow morning go to the Bank and tell the numbers"—I took his advice, and went home to my lodging—I went up-stairs and laid down a little while on the bed—I then got up, and went into the street, and told a policeman, and asked him what I had better do; that was about 9 o'clock in the evening—I have not seen the two men since, nor the money, nor any part of it.
Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. You devoutly believed that the whole of this tale about the 22,000l., and his having the 400l. to distribute, was all true? A. Yes; I have been a good deal at sea for twenty-two years; I left England last July four years—I was perfectly sober—I had drank a
glass of ale at the Yorkshire Stingo, a little brandy in Oxford-street, and a little brandy and water, and one glass of brandy and water after that—I was perfectly sober—I had seen the second man at Poplar that morning—when the prisoner met me at the door, he took me by the arm, and the other man took roe by the other arm—they were both polling me away from the door—it was dark—the gas was lighted—I was very much excited when I saw the man coming away with the money—when I saw him come out, I followed him as fast as I could—I came back, and went through the passage into Fen-church-street, and there the prisoner came a second time to me.
ELIZABETH MARK . I am single, and am barmaid at the Captain Man-of-War public-house, in High-street, Poplar. I know Mr. Gibson, he had been staying at our house from the 22nd Aug.—I have known the prisoner about two months; he occasionally frequented our house while Mr. Gibson was there—Mr. Gibson lived with us, but he went in the coffee-room to drink and smoke, and the prisoner went there too—in the week previous to 1st Sept, I had seen the prisoner every day, and sometimes two or three times a day—on Saturday, 30th Aug., I saw another person come in, and go in the coffee-room; but Mr. Gibson was not then at home—that person was in the coffee-room while the prisoner was there—they had the morning paper, and were together two or three hours—there was no other person there—I saw the same man several times during that Saturday; he was in and out several times; and on Sunday, after the house was opened, he came in the afternoon—the prisoner was not there then—he came there twice during the evening—the prisoner was then at the bar—I saw him again on the Monday morning, while the prisoner was at the bar again—he went into the coffee-room first, and then came to the bar—Mr. Gibson came down while the prisoner and the other man were standing at the bar on the Monday morning—he was the only person standing at the bar beside the prisoner—he took a drop of gin—I saw Mr. Gibson go out that morning about 10 o'clock—I saw ham again when he returned, and went up-stairs, between 6 and 7—he remained in hit bed-room about five or six minutes; he then came down, and went out—the prisoner came in the evening about a quarter before 6—he went away to tea—he came in again to light a cheroot, while Mr. Gibson was up-stairs—he, left again, while Mr. Gibson was up-stairs, and Mr. Gibson left immediately afterwards—I saw the prisoner again, about twenty minutes before 10 in the evening.
Cross-examined. Q. The prisoner was in the habit of using the house? A. Yes, occasionally—Mr. Gibson was lodging in the house—some other man came in on the Saturday and Sunday—I knew Mr. Gibson was as engineer, and had just come from Calcutta—we knew he was not without money.
ANN MARIA. SOPHIA HAYWARD . I am the wife of Charles Hay ward, who keeps the Bull's Head, in Leadenhall-street. On 1st Sept., Mr. Gibson came about a quarter before 4 o'clock, there was one person came with him; I do not remember whether two persons came in with him, but there were three altogether; they remained about half-an-hour—shortly before 7, one of them returned; he sat down behind the door, and in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, Mr. Gibson and the other returned, and then the third one got up and followed them into the back-parlour—there is a window in that back-parlour, and by pulling aside the curtain, you can see into the street—it commands a view of the pavement, near the door, and of the opposite side of the way—a person, by pulling that curtain aside, could see whether any one was in the street—they remained about half-an-hour—I saw one leave the door—Mr.
Gibson was the second, and the third man was then coming along the passage—that was the last I saw of them—I saw nothing of the prisoner that I had never seen the man who went out first, till that Monday—he came from the parlour that afternoon and asked me the sign of the house; I told him, and he wrote it down in his pocket-book—the man who was coming along the passage, I had seen before, and two or three days before that he had dined at our house with the prisoner—during the month of August, I had seen him with the prisoner every two or three days—they came together, and left together; but sometimes they would come first one, and then the other—I saw that man had a hat on his head when he was coming along the passage—I did not find 150l. in that room afterwards, or any hat.
Cross-examined. Q. What did you tell him? A. That he was taken on suspicion of being concerned, with two others, in robbing a gentleman—he said, "Good God! I know nothing about it"—he looked at the prosecutor, and said, "What do you mean?"
GEORGE GIBSON re-examined. Q. You spoke of seeing one of the other men on the morning of 1st Sept., was that the second man? A. Yes. Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent; I met him the next morning, and took him to stop the notes.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT.—Friday, September 19th, 1851.
PRESENT—Mr. Justice TALFOURD; Mr. Ald. KELLY; and Mr. Ald. HUNTER.
Before Mr. Justice Talfourd, and the First Jury.
MESSRS. RYLAND, LOCKE and PARRY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN LONG . I live at 6, Plumtree-court, Holborn, and am a labourer. I knew the deceased, Cogan, a fortnight or three weeks, but he used to he called John Bull, for a nick-name—on Saturday, 5th July, at a quarter or twenty minutes to 12 o'clock, I saw him at the bottom of a narrow court coming into Plumtree-court, at the Holborn end, and a man and woman—the prisoner was there, and said to Cogan, "You shall not stop here"—Cogan said, "What am I doing any more than the other man and woman are doing?"—I did not hear any answer to that—I stopped to hear the conversation but heard no more, and walked to my own door, No. 9, where there is a lamp—I then saw the deceased run by me, and the policeman after him—the policeman is the prisoner Cole, No. 849, I knew him well, because be had passed several times, and we had talked to each other at the door, and he came into my place on the Wednesday before, when my wife was chastising one of the children—he was in his police dress, and I saw the number on his collar—Cogan ran into No. 28; the prisoner turned his bull's-eye into No. 28, and likewise into No. 8—I asked the policeman, "What have you done?"—he said, "I will have him before the night is out"—he went down a narrow court into Holborn again—I remained under the lamp, and the deceased came down alongside me—he had his blouse on, and I said "If I were you I would go up-stairs and change myself"—he then went up-stairs and put on a dark coat, and I remained with him in the court eating some bread
and meat—I moved to No. 7, and he stood by me eating the bread and meat; and afterwards he went over to No. 21, still eating the bread and meat—he did not remain there long, but went and put on his blouse again, and came and stood by No. 21 again, with Bridget Moore; that was between 1 and 2 o'clock—I saw Cole, the prisoner, coming up again—Cogan saw him, and said to Bridget Moore, "I shall be off from here," and he and she ran into No. 18—Cole followed them quickly into No. 18, with Lockyer, the Shoe-lane policeman—I saw them come out again some time afterwards, and the prisoner had bold of Cogan by the collar, and beat him several blows with his fist about the bead before he came to No. 21, and then he put his band in his pocket and took out his truncheon, and beat him with it round the arm and body—he still held him with his left hand, and went into No. 28; before they got there the prisoner gave him a blow across his neck—I heard him beating him several times in the passage, and be said, "You b—b—r, I will do for you," and he flung him on his face and hands into No. 28—I followed them, and stood within four feet of where the deceased laid; with that, the Shoe-lane policeman came, turned on his bull's-eye, and asked what was the matter—I said, "You know very well what is the matter"—he came alongside of me, by No. 28 door, the prisoner was beating Cogan then in the passage—I saw him hit him under the right ear with his truncheon—Cogan said, "For God's sake do not murder me, and I will go up-stairs and not come down no more" Lockyer was there then, and told me he should serve me the same if I did not go about my business—I had said to Lockyer that it was a scandalous shame to murder the young man—before that Lockyer and Bridget Moore had bad some words up the court, but my attention was taken up with Cogan—Cogan was as sober as I am at the present moment—I have never seen him in liquor since I have known him—Lockyer ordered me away, and that was the last I saw of Cogan—I saw him two or three days after when he was dead—on the following morning I heard several persons telling the prisoner and Lockyer that they had done a nice job for that young man, and I cannot tell whether it was Cole or Lockyer said, "I did not do it"—I saw Mrs. Lyons in the court.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. You began to-spend your evening, I think, about 12 o'clock? A. I was bard at work till half-past 11, or Tery near 12, turning a mangle for my wife—my family consists of six, who are all at home except my daughter, who goes out to work, but sleeps at home—I have three sons, they are not all at home—it has nothing to do with this case whether one of them is transported—how many gentleman has got a misfortunate child, I cannot tell whether he is transported, I do not know—he was convicted, but I cannot tell where he is—I know that he was transported, and who transported him, Mr. Mow, one of the detective-police, and what was it for—he was accused of stealing 18d. and a silver thimble—he was tried at this Court, in the third Court—I have kept no account of how many times he was convicted before that of picking pockets, it was not my place—what prison was he in for picking pockets? he was convicted of that when he was transported, I believe, it was only an attempt before—I cannot tell whether he was imprisoned three months—I was told in 1850 he was in Prison for six months—that is my youngest son; I do not believe my eldest son has ever been tried, I swear he has not—my youngest son was not turned out of the National-school for theft, I could bring Mr. Smith to prove it, none of my sons have been—I have never had but one son convicted; that was John, he was my step-son—I have an elder son, thirty-six years old, he has never been in prison—I do not know whether the police were witnesses on all the occasions against my other son—I do not know who gave evidence
against him—I did not come into Court to witness the trial—I spoke on his behalf—the police might have given evidence against that son,, but that is all Q. In 1848, had you seven days imprisonment? Witness. What was it for? Q. For an assault. A. On who? I had; but what was it for? it was not for an assault—a policeman owed me animosity, the same as they do now or why should they shove me a month in prison, but because they owed me animosity and would not take my bail? and when I was bailed they tried to put me back again and run me secretly down—why did they come and break my door open while I was in prison, and take my wife out of the house, and cry out," Fire?"—what should they do that for?—I believe I was in prison for seven days in 1848 for drunkenness (referring to a memorandum)—the police gave evidence against me—I was fined then—I was not in prison in Sept. in the same year for a month—that was for Mr. Chamberlain, a parish concern; he struck my daughter when she went for relief—I was twice in prison for Mr. Chamberlain—it was not for assaulting the police-constable—it was for going for relief; that I swear—that was my only offence—I did not assault him—they said I did—I got fourteen days—I was not imprisoned on 20th Nov. for fourteen days for disorderly conduct—I never was in prison only three times for the police—that is twice, now—they owed me animosity for this concern—I had fourteen days in Sept., 1850—that was when the police shoved me in because they owed me animosity—on 4th Sept. I got seven days for a parish affair—I was imprisoned in Feb. this year for one month—it was Dot two months—I have not been imprisoned for two months at all—it was for a month—you can find out what it was for—I dare say Mr. Chamberlain knows what it was for—I was twice in prison for Mr. Chamberlain; and Alderman Salomons ordered him to relieve my family, which he would not—I made application again for relief, and Alderman Salomons told him when I came out he was to relieve me—I went to get relief from him, and he would not relieve me—I made application to one of the guardians, and as it was board-day that day I went up the stairs—Mr. Chamberlain and another officer caught hold of me and dragged me down the steps—I went outside, and he set two officers on me, and I was taken into custody—I was put in prison for that—that was in 1850—I have had a month this year—it was in Feb. last, for being in liquor; and this last time I had another month—that was for an assault—they said I assaulted them, but I never did—I was imprisoned as an innocent man most of my time—I was not seven times imprisoned—the highest I ever had was a month—there was only three times and this twice for the police—I have lived in this court twenty-seven years last March, and have rented the house—there is only one lodger in the house where I live—at the time this happened there were two families besides my own—sometimes there are two men in the house—I cannot tell how many there were then; I did not examine their rooms—there was myself, a man and his family, another man and his wife, and sometimes it might be his brother came there and lodged—there are six houses in the narrow part of the court—you turn round a corner after you leave my house—there may be more than twenty-eight houses in the court, and there may be less; I never counted them—I cannot tell whether they are mostly lodging-houses—they are occupied by working-people, I believe—I dare say they are honest, industrious, hard-working people; they are for what I know—I do not know whether it is their custom to sleep with their doors open—it is not my place to bring them to an account; do you think I am a watchman?—it is the place of the police to see every street-door shut, if they do their duty—I was up and down the court most of the night—my doors were not open—I do not know whether most of the doors were open; I did not go up the court to see—I did not assault one of
the witnesses in leaving the police-court the day the inquiry finished—a policeman set Jack Moore on to me when I was coming from the Mansion house, and he beat me, and that is what I got a month for—I am on bail for that at the present time.
Q. Did not you offer a man as bail for you in tint case, and represent him as a housekeeper? A. I could not tell that; I was in prison—he was examined before I came out—I do not know what he answered—I did not tell the Magistrate that he was a housekeeper; how could I, and I in the Computer?—I have the looking after of three houses in the narrow court belonging to the head landlord, who lives over the water—those houses are let out in floors—I do not know whether that is the case with most of the houses in the court—I left off work about half-past 11 o'clock that night—my mangle was in my own house—I did not hear any row that night—I heard Mrs. Lyons and her husband having words—I cannot tell what time that was; it was before I left off mangling—that was all the row I heard—I did not hear Biddy Moore kicking up a row—she was sober when I saw her about 10—I saw her afterwards—I did not follow her into No. 18 to see whether she was sober then—she was sober enough to take care of herself; she might be a little bit In liquor for what I know—she was not drunk—she had taken a little, to be sure—she went into a fit—that was, I dare say, after the Shoe-lane policeman left me—I went up again towards her—it was after she sat by the deceased with the bread and meat when she came out of No. 18—our court is always quiet, the narrow court is—you accuse both courts of being alike—it is not my place to go round watching people—there might he words in the broad part of the court, for what I know—sometimes I go to bed at 10—my sight is not very good; I am short-sighted, and have been so since 1811, when I was struck with lightning—it has very much affected my sight—I do not think there were above half-a-dozen persons in the court at the time the prisoner struck the deceased with his truncheon; there might be more—I cannot say who they were, no more than I saw Mrs. Lyons—she was behind me, but that was all I took notice of—it was between 1 and 2; nearer to 2 than 1—I heard St. Andrew's clock strike 1 a little before—there can be no mistake about it—it might want 20 minutes or half an hour to 2—a man named Burke lives in the upper part of the court—I did not take any notice of him that night—he might be in the upper part of the court for what I know—there has been a Coroner's Inquest in this case—I attended—I believe all the witnesses who are here to-day attended, not the whole of them—there was my wife and Mrs. Lyons, Jack Moore and me, and the deceased's mother—Burke did not attend—I do not know that the deceased had been imprisoned for theft—I do not know what character he bore; he was a bare stranger to me—I did not know him above a fortnight or three weeks—I have known the prisoner there as a policeman upwards of a month—the deceased was eating the bread and meat between 1 and 2—I understand he went over to Field-lane, and got 11/2 d.-worth of meat, and 1/2 d.-worth of bread—he borrowed 2d. of a young man for it—I did not go with him—I cannot read or write—I can read figures.
Q. Tell me what number that is (making some large figures on the brief, and holding them near the witness). A. 749—no—729 (looking at another number marked in the same manner)—I cannot tell what number that is, because it is such a long distance off.
MR. LOCKE. Q. How many times did you see Cole go up and down the court? A. I dare say I saw him a dozen times—the court is not above four feet wide.
MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. You shall not get out of it in that way;! will put it within four feet of you; now what is it? A. That is more then four feet, but you put his yellow number, and put it close to me?—I have seen the man frequently passing by—I cannot see what that number is.
MR. LOCKE. Q. You say the whole court is about four feet wide? A. It is not four feet—I saw the prisoner five or six times in the coarse of the night passing up and down—I was just alongside of him, and he was underneath the lamp when he passed me—I was much nearer to him than four feet; I was not two feet from him, I was close to him—I might see him I dare say five or six times during the month—he was in my place on the Tuesday night, and Wednesday night, in the same week, when my wife was chastising the girl—the houses I am employed to look after are in the narrow court where I live—Mr. Chislett is the owner, he lives in Trinity-square, in the Borough—they are three houses; he has six, I bad the looking after them all at one time—if there is any money owing to him, he tells me to receive it for him, and when he comes round I give the money over to him—I have done that for upwards of ten years—I did not know Cole at all before he came as a policeman to that court—I knew the former policeman, Smith.
COURT. Q. Had you observed the number on the policeman's coat before that evening, at different times? A. Oh, yes; because I was talking to him before that several times in the night, when he came on duty at 9 o'clock—I do not know what number Lockyer's is, I never took notice of his number, although I have known him this long time—he does duty in that part of the court that goes into Shoe-lane—his duty is down as far as my window by rights; I have often seen him—I have never taken notice of his number, but I have of the prisoner's—he passes by my window, and sometimes might stop at the door and talk to me.
JURY. Q. What was Smith's number? A. I do not know, though I have known him for years, ever since he has been on the beat.
COURT. Q. Smith was the policeman before Cole came, was he? A. No; he does day-duty, the prisoner is the night policeman, he goes off duty about 6 o'clock in the morning, and comes on about nine in the evening—Smith is on Shoe-lane, I never took notice of his number.
JURY. Q. What induced you particularly to notice the No. 849 on the prisoner's coat? A. Because he came up the court on Sunday-night, and the people began to hiss him all down the court—that induced roe to take notice of his number—I had noticed his number several times before—he beat the deceased on the Thursday night before—I was on the Sunday night after Cogan's death that the people hissed him—I had known Cole for a week or a fortnight before this happened—he was up and down the court, but I never made free with the man till a fortnight or so before Cogan's death.
ELIZABETH LONG . I am the wife of the last witness; we life at 6, Plumtree-court. I had known the prisoner about a fortnight or three weeks before Saturday, 5th July—he had been doing duty in our court, as a night policeman—on the Thursday before Saturday, 5th July, from a quarter before 12 o'clock to a quarter past, I saw him beat and ill-use Cogan very much, who I had known about a fortnight—Cogan said, "If I have done anything wrong, lock me up; what have I done more than any of the rest?"—Cole said, "You b—, I will do you"—on the Saturday night when this took place, I was in the court, and saw Cogan about half-past 11; but I saw him with Cole just after 12—I saw him standing at No. 7 door; he was doing nothing; he had a piece of bread and meat in his hand—Cole ran after him, and he ran away; Cole said he would have him before the night was out—I
saw Cogan again, as near as I can say, at twenty or twenty-five minutes to 2; I will not exactly say which, because I may be wrong in the dock—I saw Cole have him by the left-hand, by the collar of the blouse which he had on—I was looking out of my bedroom window—they were then between No. 9 and No. 21. between that and the gully-hole—I was able from my window to tee him quite plainly—I saw Cole strike him about half-a-dozen blows on the right side of his bead; he might have struck more; I speak within compass—he said, "For God's sake! don't murder me: I will not do it again"—Cole said, "You b—, I will murder you;" and he struck him with his left-hand, and took him into No. 8 passage, and I saw no more—he struck the half-dozen blows with his bludgeon; he was dragging him by his collar—Cogan said, "Policeman, don't murder me"—Cole said, "You b—, I will do you;" and struck him the last blow on the right side of the head—the deceased had a cap on—it was a violent blow, and it was near the ear I should say by what I saw—I could see the door of No. 28 quite distinctly from my window, but not into the passage—I could see that Cole went into the passage; they were in the passage some minutes—I did not see them come out—while they were in the passage, Lockyer, No. 264, who they call the Shoe-lane policeman, came up—he does duty in Shoe-lane—that court leads into Shoe-lane—he stood on the opposite side, turned his bull's-eye on, and said, "Halloo!"—I could see that he turned his light into the passage of No. 28; he must have seen the persons in the passage—Cole was in the passage at that time with the deceased—Mrs. Lyons was there; she was quarreling with her husband, and he would not let her go in—my husband was there, standing at No. 7 door; from No. 7 he could see No. 28, not into the passage, but he went forward towards it—I saw no more after Cogan was thrown into the passage; I saw him again about a quarter to 6 on Sunday morning; he was dead, and had been deed some time—when I saw him at half-past 11, and at 12, and again at twenty minutes to 2, he was perfectly sober, as I am at this moment—I did not see him do anything to the police—I never saw anything wrong of him—I had known him about a fortnight—he was, I think, about 21 years of age.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Is this a quiet and orderly court? A. It is like all other courts where low characters live; sometimes there are rows, like all other low neighbourhoods—I do not think I ever saw it more quiet than it was that night—there were no words but those between Mrs. Lyons and her husband, till this occurred—I have had no children by a former husband—I was married in 1822—I can bring my certificate in five minutes—my husband has a son and daughter by a former wife, that is no disgrace to me—my husband's son has held a respectable situation for the last ten years; I brought him up from two years old, he is now thirty-six—I have got two boys and two girls alive out of fourteen—the boys are not at home—you know where one of them is, and need not ask me the question; he was transported about three years ago, not to my misconduct, or his father's; the other son is at home—I am surprised at your asking whether he has ever been in prison, a child nine years old—I have no other son that has been in Prison, never but one; if you will let me have the truth I will answer you—I beg your pardon, my Lord, for speaking so bold—I cannot see from my bed-room into the passage of No. 28, certainly not, I did not say that I could—I never said any such thing—I cannot—I had a pigeon-box within six yards of the window on the night of 6th July—it was not before the window—it was there when I was a witness before the coroner, and when I was a witness at he Mansion-house—it was taken away on the 21st of last month—I do
not know whether that was the day after I came from the Mansion-house—the man I sold it to, Daniel Lawler, took it away—my son, who is gone, kept pigeons there, and I kept them since he left, and the birds laid one egg—I think they were taken away while I was at the Mansion-house—I am not sure, for I had had the things sold; I do not know, I am not positive, the man is down-stairs who bought them—I cannot say whether it was while the examination was going on before the Lord Mayor; I had sold them four weeks before to this man, and I would not let him take them away until such time as the birds had feathers—he took them away before my husband came home out of prison, because I said my husband would not part with them—I did not, while I was attending the coroner, hear one of the jury say they did not believe I could see from one place to the other—I beard of it at the Mansion-house—that man (Mr. Lewis, the solicitor) spoke to me—I do not know on what day it was—I do not know the day of the month—I did not keep it in my head—I suppose you can refer to Mr. Lewis's papers—I really do not know whether that inquiry by Mr. Lewis was made before T removed the pigeon-house—I will not swear anything about it, the man can tell—I dare say it is on the papers, but I did not look—on my oath I saw the man I represent to be Cole draw his bludgeon from his pocket; he was then between No. 21 and No. 9, near the gully-hole—I cannot say whether I saw the first blows that were given to the man—I cannot say how far between No. 9 and No. 21 he was when he drew his truncheon and beat the man, but he was very near; I think I could step from where he was, between the two doon—he was between the two doors and the gully-hole—he struck the last blow at the side of the gully-hole, which is in the corner of the court—I had got into bed before the row began—when I heard the row I got out of bed—I believe it was 25 or 20 minutes to 2; I cannot say to a moment, I am on my oath, and I will not go from it—I believe, as far as I can tell, that the pigeon-house was at the window when I first went to the Mansion-house—I do not know the day of the month.
MR. PARRY. Q. About how far is the gully-hole you speak of from No. 28? A. I really do not know; not very far; about as far as from here to the door, or perhaps it may not be quite so far—I saw Cole strike blows at the other side of the gully-hole; that is the side towards No. 28—there is a stone parapet below my window—I do not know how wide it is—the pigeon-house stood on it on 5th July, when I was looking out—I could see No, 28 when it was there—it was taken away on 21st Aug.—I sold it to Dan Lawler when she had laid one egg, and then she laid another, and she sat eighteen days—I sold it before 5th July, but he did not take it away till 21st Aug., because the bird was sitting; and she hatched her young, and they got feathered; and I said, "Pray don't take them now, but take then before my husband comes"—it was on the 20th of last month a policeman named Moss came into my room, and I said, "Cannot I see 28?" and he said, "Yes," and was satisfied—Alderman Wilson also came to look, and I showed him the mark where the pigeon-house had been—a person named Simmons came, and looked the other day from the window—I explained to him while he was looking how f stood, and the situation of the pigeon-house—two boxes were placed in the situation of the pigeon-house, and much higher—he then looked to see whether he could see No. 28, and he was able to see it—he came at nearly half-past 10 o'clock—there is a gas-lamp in the court, at the corner, projecting from the wall, and several persons have been there from time to time, to look.
I lived there on 5th July—I have seen the deceased about the court for three weeks, and knew him by sight for about a fortnight or three weeks before 5th July—I saw him on the night of 5th July, as near as I can tell, near 12 o'clock, before I saw the policeman—I nearly passed him as he was standing with his back to the wall, in the court—he appeared sober—I saw nobody else near him at that time—he appeared, to the best of my knowledge, to be eating a bit of something; whether it was a bit of bread and meat, or what it was, I do not know—I did not go in because my husband was drunk, and had shut me out—I went into the next house—I did not see Cogan again till about 20 minutes before two—the prisoner Cole was then running after him, and he was running away from the policeman towards his own house, No. 28—I do not know that I had ever seen Cole before that night—I had not seen or spoken to him before that night, because he did not belong to our beat—I did not exactly look at him so as to swear to him, but I took notice of him about half an hour before that, he was going to take me to the station for scolding my husband—he ran after Cogan, who was, about as near as I can say, two or three yards from the side of his own door, and took him by the side of his neck, with his left hand—Cogan took bold of the door by the side, to try to rescue himself from the policeman—he said, "Don't hit me, I live up here"—it was at the door of No. 28, where he did live—the policeman had got hold of him, trying to drag him backwards into the street, but he could not—Cole took and pushed him on to the step of the door, and Cogan fell inwards, into the passage—he fell forwards—while he was lying in the passage, the policeman put his hand into his right-hand pocket, and took out his staff, and struck him with it on the right side of the head and the shoulder; but I could not see clearly, because the policeman was betwixt him and me—there were several blows on the head, and one on the right arm, the shoulder at least—while the policeman was striking him in that way, Cogan said, "For God's sake, don't murder me; I won't come down any more to-night"—they were heavy blows, such as I should not like to have—Cogan said, "Do," and the policeman said, "You b—r, I will do you before I leave you"—as my door opened, I went in; and at the shutting of the door, Mr. Lockyer, the Shoe-lane policeman, came down, and turned his bull's-eye on to the left and to the right, and said, "Halloo! what is here?"—he came to the corner, and I went in-doors, shut my door, and saw no more of it—he turned his bull's-eye towards where the deceased lay and the policeman.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Is Lockyer still on the beat there? A. Yes, I saw him yesterday—he is still a policeman, and is in the City-police dress—Cogan was not a countryman of mine, to my knowledge—I am an Irishwoman—I do not know what countryman Cogan was—I never spoke to him—his mother tells me he was twenty—on e years old—he was about the middle stature—I cannot tell you what he worked at—he was quiet—he made no resistance, and used no violence—he allowed himself to he beaten by the policeman, only trying to get away—he never attempted to strike the policeman; he did nothing but beg to he let go—I had a row with my husband that night—that does not occur frequently—I remember that night, on that account—he shut me out because he was tipsy—it was all his fault—it was partly his fault, and partly my own—I was not drunk at all, I was quite sober—when the policeman came up, he threatened to take me into custody if I did not go in—that policeman is the prisoner; I have no doubt of that at all; to my best belief, he is the man—I will not swear exactly—on my oath, he is the roan who threatened to take me into custody—I
am quite sure; I do not say I can swear to him—when he threatened to take me, he was so near to me that he put me down in the mud; but I did not look into his face—I told him if he wanted me to go to the station I would go with him—before he dragged me into the mud, he was quite close to me, and I was sober—I told you before I could not positively swear to the man—I said, "To the best of my belief, that is the man"—I was not able to see the face of the person who was beating the deceased—nobody pointed the prisoner out to me—when I came to the Coroner's Inquest, they said, "Is that the man?" and I said, "To my best belief, that is the man."
COURT. Q. Where was it you saw the blows given by the policeman to Cogan, was it in the court or the passage of the house? A. It was not exactly the passage, the man's head was inside the door, and his heels outwards; he knocked him partly into the passage and partly out, his bead was in the passage—no one could see those blows given except they saw into the passage—he was very near the step of the door, and the lamp is so clear that he could be seen—the blows were given after the policeman had knocked him into the passage, not before—he gave him a blow and knocked him down—he did not take his truncheon out till after he had pushed him into the passage—the policeman was not in the passage when he took his truncheon out—the young man had been thrown into the passage by the policeman, who was just outside, or just in the door, and was striking him inwards, so that the actual blows could not be seen by anybody unless they could look into the passage. Q. Supposing a person stood in such a position that they could not see anything which took place in the passage, could they possibly see those blows actually fall on the head? A. Yes, they could, because they were not quite in the passage, but partly in, and the gas shows in so clear; and it was just upon daylight, just upon the breaking of daylight—it was just getting a bit of a light at the time, and the gas was so clear that of course they could see anything.
JOHANNA KING . I am a widow, and live at 18, Plumtree-court. I knew the deceased man, Cogan—on Sunday-morning, 6th July, between 2 and 3 o'clock I think it was, but I cannot tell the hour—I was sitting on the step of my door—I saw the prisoner follow Cogan into my passage, he caught him by the throat with his hand, and pulled him out of the passage—a policeman, who we used to call Buffalo, was with him—it was Lockyer, the Shoe-lane policeman—I do not know what was done to Cogan outside—I saw nothing further—I went up stairs, and went to bed.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. You think it was between 2 and 3 o'clock? A. I think it might be, but I cannot tell the time, I cannot read or write—I did not hear St. Andrew's clock at that time—there was no row In the court to prevent my hearing it, but I did not notice it—I think it was that time, because I had been at a day's washing—I am sometimes washing till three in the morning—it is sometimes 3 o'clock before I come home from where I wash, at Mrs. Connor's, over Westminster-bridge—it was very nearly three when I left there, and then I had to walk from there to Plumtree-court—I cannot say how far my door-step is from the gully-hole—I should think as far as from me to the wall of this court—the prisoner passed me as I was sitting on the step of the door, and said to me, "Come out of the door"—I got up out of the door; he passed me, and I stood alongsides of him, and he said, "Don't interfere;" and with that he struck him as he had got him by the throat, and dragged him out of the passage, and farther than that I did not see—I then went up-stairs—I do not know how many other lodgers there are in the house, that is more than I can tell—there is
only one other in the same room as me—I had not bad a drop of the poteen that night—I had been home from work more than an hour when this happened.
CHARLES WILLIAMS . I live at 19, Plumtree-court. In July I lived at 28 with the deceased, Cogan—I had known him two years—he was about twenty or twenty—on e years old—he slept in the same room that I did—on Sunday morning, 6th July, about twenty minutes past 4 o'clock, I saw him lying on the bed frothing at the mouth, and making a noise in his throat—I had seen him when I was going to bed at half-past one, he was then solid and sober—I knew him before, and was in the habit of seeing him from day to day—he was in good health—when I found him in this state I went for a surgeon; a gentleman came to see him, but he died before he came—we slept in a back-room at the top of the house, four stories high—when I went to bed at half-past one I went to sleep immediately.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARK SON. Q. Do you remember Cogan telling you that he had gone up-stairs to change his coat to cheat the b—coppers? A. I do not; I never said anything to that effect—the coppers mean police—I have often heard that term before in the court—I am a labouring man, and get my living in the best way I can—I did not know that Cogan was a convicted thief—I knew nothing of his character—I have been four times in prison myself for different offences—I was in prison once for potstealing, and I got three months for making an attempt to pick pockets, they said, at Charlton fair—it was pewter-pots—I do not know that that is what counterfeit money is made with—I had three months for that also—it was about twelve months ago that I had the three months for the attempt—I was at Maid stone—I have been once convicted since, for taking a paltry door-mat—I had three months for that; and I once had fourteen days in the Compter for insulting the police; the policemen came and insulted me, and I took a pintpot to use over his head, and they accused me of stealing it—I was not convicted of assaulting the police—those are the only occasions on which I have been in prison—I am twenty-three years old—I cannot say when the first offence was.
JOHN BURKE . I am a labouring man, and live at 9, Plumtree-court. I knew the deceased, Cogan, for three or four years—I heard of his death on the morning of 6th July—on the night before I had been getting a drop of something to drink, and was coming home between 1 and 2 o'clock, and saw Cogan between the corner of the court and No. 9—he was playing, joking about the court—he was sober—he asked me to lift him up to the lamp—I was about ten or twelve yards from it at the time—the lamp is at my door, and projects out from the wall—I believe there is a gas-pipe up the wall, leading to the lamp—he said he wanted to light his pipe—I did not notice whether he had a pipe with him—I held him up for a minute or two, but could not see what he did—I then lowered him down—he put his knees on my back, and got off as easy as I should put a child down, on the pavement—he had no fall—he then walked away, and I left him in the court—I then saw that the lamp was out—it had been alight before—about half an hour after that the lamplighter came to put out the lamps—I did not see Cogan again till he was dead.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. I suppose you and he were not there to put out the light for any purpose? A. No; I am sure of that—he did not tell me he was going to put it out—I was surprised at it—I did not see how he did it—I know that gas is put out by turning it out—I should not light my pipe at the thing it turn it out by—I went to bed that night
at about a quarter to 3 o'clock—after I saw him, I went to the corner of Field-lane, and had some coffee—I did not tell Mr. Cale that it was a quarter to 3 when the lamp was put out—I know Mr. Cale—I believe he is an inspector of police—I told him it was a quarter to 3 when I went to bed—I swear I did not tell him it was a quarter to 3 when the lamp was put out, and 3 when I went up-stairs—my name is John Burke: I am quite sure about that—it is not Sullivan—I do not know whether I have ever gone by that name—I never have to my recollection, or called myself so—I know Chamberlain, the relieving-officer—I do not recollect whether I have ever represented to him that my name was Sullivan—I will not swear I have not—I do not know whether I have obtained relief from him by using that name.
NICHOLAS SIMMONS . On Tuesday night, 16th Sept., about half-past 10 o'clock, I went to Plumtree-court, and saw the sink or gully-hole there—there is a lamp projecting from the corner of a house, nearly over the gully. hole, not quite—I went to No. 6, where Mr. and Mrs. Long live, and went into the garret, which is a bed-room—I looked out at the window, and cook see the door-posts of No. 28—the door was open—two band-boxes, two feet two inches high were placed on the parapet on my right, by my direction, and I could then see No. 28—a gentleman who was with me went and stood at No. 28, and I could see him—I could see the gully-hole, and the lamp—I could see from the lamp and gully-hole along the court to No. 28—it was a cloudy night overhead, but a clear night—there was no moon or start—No. 28 was on my right—Mrs. Long looked out at the window while I was there—she showed me the attitude in which she looked out, and she could from there plainly see persons passing up from the corner to 28.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. What are you? A. I am doing nothing at present—I have been apprenticed to the medical profession, but am not following it—I have walked the hospitals, but have not passed my examination—I might have, if I had followed the profession—I went to this court with a gentleman who told me he came from the office of the City Solicitor—he requested me to accompany him—I am slightly acquainted with him—his name is Stuchbury—no one from the other side went with us, or had any notice that I am aware of—I am now living on my private means in the Hampstead-road, in unfurnished lodgings—Mr. Stuchbury did not come to me at the Hampstead-road—I met him at a public-house, next door to the Middlesex Hospital—I was there first—I did not meet him by appointment—I have received no payment for this, further than having a long strip of paper put into my hand with half-a-crown—I have had some silver since, but I consider it more as a private loan from his private pocket—I had half-a-crown last night—that is all I have had—I have had no promise of any more—I went to the garret of this house, and Mrs. Long came up in a few minutes—No. 28 is on the opposite side—there is a slight elbow, or bend in the court (describing it on paper)—I could not see anything that took place more than four or six inches within the door of No. 28—I would not be certain that I could see an inch within the door—I could see both the jambs of the door—it was not Mr. Stuchbury who placed himself where I could see him—it was Mr. Pearson, jun.
GEORGE MARQUICK STUCHBURY . I am a clerk in the office of Mr. Charles Pearson, the City-solicitor. I selected the last witness to make the examination—I knew him slightly before—I called on two persons first in order to select a person entirely unconnected with the court, and who did not know the locality; they were not at home, and as it was petting late, and I saw Mr. Simmonds, I thought he would do just as well, never having been
in the court, as he told me—Mr. Pearson, jun., Mr. Pearson's nephew, went with me—I witnessed the examination of the locality; I have done so on several occasions—I believe several persons on the part of the prisoner have examined the place also—at the police-court a model of the place was produced on the part of the prisoner—it was made by inspector Mitchel I believe—I have not seen Mr. Moss or Mr. Mitchell here to-day—they were before the Magistrate—the prisoner called several witnesses before the Magistrate—I looked out at this window myself, and could see the door of No. 28, and the gully-hole—I have heard what Mr. Simmonds has stated, that is correct as far as my observation went.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Is there a City surveyor? A. Yes; I did not give any notice to the other side that I was going to take Mr. Simmonds to make a survey—Mr. Pearson knew that I was going; in fact, he went himself—I did not conceive it necessary to have a model made; as there was one made on behalf of the prisoner—I have not made a plan or model, or had one made.
CHARLES PEARSON, ESQ . I am the City Solicitor, and am conducting this prosecution by the desire of the Lord Mayor. I considered it my duty, and directed my clerk to obtain some disinterested person, unconnected with the police, unconnected with the Corporation, and unconnected with any of the parties in the court, to go and look at this window, to ascertain if the door of No. 28 could be seen from there—I have been there myself with the Counsel—I looked out at the window, and could see No. 28 from it, the sink, and all between.
ROBERT TOPPING . I am a surgeon. On Sunday morning, 6th July, about half-past 4, or nearly 5 o'clock, I was sent for by Williams, who has been examined, and went to 28, Plum tree-court, and found the deceased there; he was quite dead—his coat was off, and on a cursory view I saw contusions extending from the muscles of the right shoulder—his shirt was not off, but I put my hand under his shirt—there were contusions also on the right side of the neck—I observed mucus from the nostrils and mouth—that was all the examination I made then—I returned in two hours and made a post-mortem examination of the external parts of the body—I pulled the shirt down over the shoulder, and noticed discoloration, extending down the arm—a slight one over the lower part of the wrist, and likewise up the right side of the neck, extending behind the right ear as far as the lower edge of the temporal muscle—one blow or one fall could not, in my judgment have occasioned those contusions—blows or falls would have produced them, but they must have been several—I took off the scalp, which was unusually vascular, and I found the dura-mater rather more adherent than is usual at the inner surface: there was as light fissure in the lateral sinus, which is a tube conveying the blood from the brain to the heart; it runs in a groove to the lower part of the occipital bone, on a level with the ear—the fissure was in the lower part behind the ear, and beneath it—I made a particular observation of the external skin over the fissure, there was no abrasion, but there was a considerable contusion, which might have arisen either from a fall or violence of any kind; a blow with a truncheon would have done it—I have heard the evidence to-day, and consider the blows the deceased is stated to have received might have caused this—the immediate cause of death was extravasation of blood pressing on the brain from the rupture of the lateral sinus, and I
attribute the rupture of the lateral sinus to external violence, such as I saw marks of behind the ear.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Might not all that you saw, I do not mean externally, but on removing the scalp and opening the head, have been produced without external violence? A. It is possible—I have never met with such cases in my practice—I have had many cases of apoplexy—the lateral sinus is a vessel of a triangular form, formed from a reflexion of the dura-mater—it is not a thin vessel, but has three coats, the same as other blood-vessels—I have frequently met with ruptures of vessels on the brain without any violence—they were vessels composed the same as this vessel—a person under the influence of drink is much more liable to strong excitement than a person that is sober—strong excitement would not produce such a rupture as this, because it is a vessel of lam calibre—I have never known a vessel of large calibre to burst from excitement—I have known the largest vessels in the body to rupture from excitement, but not unless there has been some previous disease of the coats of it, which there never had been to my knowledge in this case—supposing this man to have received blows from some person, and that the fissure was produced by the blows, I should expect the effusion or extravasation of blood to have produced coma—I should have expected there would be symptoms of coma immediately—I do not think it possible for a person, after having received a blow which would rupture this vessel, to be playing about the court and climbing up the lamp-post—supposing the fissure in the first instance to have been only slight, and the blood to have flowed, it would have produced palpable effects according to the extent of it—if the blood flowed on to the brain I should have expected immediate effects to have exhibited themselves in a greater or less degree—supposing that up to the time of his first climbing up the lamp-post there had been a slight flowing of blood on the brain, I should expect that the mere effect of climbing, or a man's raising himself up on another man's back, would immediately increase the fissure so as to produce the immediate results of apoplexy.
Q. Supposing the man to have been larking and playing about the yard, and getting up lamp-posts, might a fall from the lamp-post have cansed that fissure in the vessel? A. Yes, it is possible; it is not probable, unless he had been of a full plethoric habit—it is my impression this was the result of excitement, accelerated by violence—it is possible that if he was in a state of intoxication, and provoking violence by wrestling with other people, that might have produced it—supposing him to have been in a state of excitement from drink and previous quarrelling, the very effort of springing up a lamppost might have produced it—supposing the fissure to have been made at 25 minutes to 2 o'clock, and there to have been an immediate flowing of blood, I should not have expected to have found the person alive at 4.
MR. LOCKE. Q. Will you describe the situation of the sinus, and how it is covered? A. It grooves the occipital bone, which is the bone at the back of the head, and also the temporal bone and the parietal bone—it runs in a groove in each of these bones—it is about one-eighth of an inch in size—I believe the rupture of the vessel was occasioned either by excitement or by violence; but judging by the external appearances, I shoud say by violence.
COURT. Q. That is, if you find an internal injury of this kind, and if you find, precisely corresponding with it, an external appearance of violence, you would consider one the cause and the other the effect, rather than the possibility of apoplexy arising? A. Yes; none of the houes through which the sinus passes were in the least degree injured—a blow, or fall, or any violence
applied behind the ear might rupture the sinus without shattering those bones the skull of this man was more than usually thick.
WILLIAM HENRY SHEEHT . I am a member of the College of Surgeons, and have been in the profession some years. I assisted Mr. Topping in the post-mortem examination—I have been in Court, and heard what has been stated by the witnesses in reference to the violence—I heard Mr. Topping examined—my observation also discovered the external appearances he states—there was a contusion of the shoulder muscles—in my judgment, the external appearances were produced by blows of some kind; I do not think they could have been produced by one blow or one fall—I have heard the witnesses state that the right-side of the man's head was repeatedly beaten with a policeman's truncheon; supposing that to be true, repeated beatings might have caused the appearances I observed—I agree with Mr. Topping as to the cause of death, the rupture of the sinus caused by violence—I observed a contusion externally, but no abrasion—violence of some sort must have caused the contusion; I cannot say what—I attribute the breaking of the sinus to violence—the contusion might be caused by a fall or a kick—the sinus runs in a groove of the bones—the rupture of the sinus might be caused by a blow without the bones being at all broken.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. Suppose there had been a blow, such as has been described here to-day: would you not expect to find that there would be some injury to the bone? A. I should; the effect of taking stimulating drinks is to accelerate the heart's action—if a person under the influence of drink was running violently, that might have induced the rapture of that vessel; but I think it is improbable—if the person running was in fear of another, the fear would also tend to create excitement—those two causes combined might have tended to produce the rupture of that vessel—I have never seen a rupture of the sinus without a fracture of the skull; but excitement might do it without violence—supposing the man to have received a blow at 25 minutes to 2 o'clock, which had produced a rupture of the vessel, an escape of blood from that vessel would be the immediate consequence, which after a time I should expect to produce stupor—I cannot say after how long; that depends upon the size of the opening—I saw the size of this rupture—supposing it to have been caused by these blows, I should not have expected the effect to be immediately apparent—it might be an hour, or two or three hours—supposing the rupture to be one-eighth of an inch, I should consider that the consequence of blood escaping would be almost immediately palpable—if it was not so large, but supposing the exertion of climbing up a lamp-post to have increased it, I should expect the consequences to be immediate, if it enlarged the opening.
MR. PARRY. Q. What quantity of blood had been extravasated? A. Two or three ounces; if the opening was very small at first, the blood would ooze out gradually, but it might become larger, and the man might die suddenly—the blood oozing out was the cause of death—the time when death would take place would depend on the opening in the vessel—it is impossible that any stimulating drinks could have caused the external violence on the man's head, nor could mental excitement of any sort—I attribute the cause of the rupture to violence, not to mental excitement or stimulating drinks—I have heard the evidence that the deceased was twenty—on e yearsold, and that he was sober on this occasion.
COURT. Q. What height was he? A. He was of short stature, and a very strong, powerful, muscular young man—his short neck tended to apoplexy—that does not often occur in young men of twenty—on e—half an ounce
of blood extravasated on the brain would produce perceptible effects; supposing it to be very slight, the effect would be gradual.
EDWARD DIGBY . I am a surgeon, at 205, Fleet-street. I was present at the post-mortem examination—I had two assistants—I was present after the skull-cap was removed—I saw the rupture of the sinus, and observed the external marks of violence—they were immediately over the rupture of the sinus—I observed the skull—it was more than usually thick—under those circumstances I attribute the rupture of the sinus to a blow or a fall; to external violence of some sort—I have been in Court, and heard the evidence—external violence, such as has been described, might rupture the sinus without injuring the bone.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Talfourd.
GUILTY . Aged 29.— Confined Three Months.
Before Mr. Baron Martin.
WILLIAM GIDNEY . I live at New Wanstead. On 1st Sept., about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, I missed a bridle, reins, and a belly-wanty—I applied to sergeant Stacey, and afterwards missed a back leather, another pair of reins, and another bridle—next morning a constable showed me my harness—this is it (produced).
EDWARD ARMITAGE . On 1st Sept., about 2 o'clock, I was on duty at Layton, about a mile and a half from New Wanstead, and saw the prisoners coming towards London—Brooks was carrying a sack—I stopped him, and asked him what it contained—he said it was leather—I looked into the sack, and found this belly-wanty, bridle, reins, and crouper—Harwood went away—a man held Brooks, while I pursued Harwood, and brought him back—Brooks then said they were going to take it to Shoreditch, to a harnessmaker, to get mended, for a man at Woodford—I took them to the station—on the way they said they found it.
JOHN WOOD . On Saturday evening, 30th Aug., the prisoners came to me, and asked if I would purchase an old ragged coat and a broken bridle, for 2s.—I told them I could only give 1s., and they took it—I gave the articles to Armitage on the Monday week following.
HARWOOD— GUILTY . Aged 18.—He was further charged with having been before convicted: to which he pleaded Guilty.— Transported for Seven Years .
BROOKS— GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Two Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
rags of Mr. Hollingsworth—they were damaged and wet—Mr. Miller hired a marsh at Marshgate-lane, Stratford, to dry them on—on 15th Aug. there were a quantity drying there, and on 16th Aug. I missed about 21/2 cwt.—I taw them again the same day at Bow station, in the possession of Storey—these are them (produced)—I know them by their being burnt, and smelling of cheese they were burnt in a fire, and there was a chese-floor underneath—I packed and sorted them myself.
WILLIAM STOREY (policeman, K 149). On the morning of 16th Aug., about 6 o'clock, I saw the prisoner and three other men coming from Stratford to Old Ford, and about a mile off from this marsh—the prisoner was carrying a sack, but dropped it as soon as he saw me, and they all ran away across the fields—Holden, who was with roe, took one of them, and gave him up to the sergeant, but he got away from him, and the others escaped—I took the prisoner on the 20th, in company with Holden, at his mother's house, in Old Ford-lane—I am quite sure he is the man who was carrying the sack—I knew him before—I took possession of the sack—these rags are a portion of its contents.
JOSIPH HOLDEN (policeman, K 427). I was with Storey on the morning of the 16th, and saw the prisoner and three others carrying the sack—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man—I know him well—he threw down the bag, and they all ran away—I was present on the 20th, when the prisoner was taken.
Primer's Defence. The three men asked me to carry the bag for them.
GUILTY . Aged 19.—He was further charged with having been convicted, at Maidstone, on 15th Oct., 1850, and at this Court, on 25th Nov., 1844: to both of which he pleaded Guilty.— Transported for Seven Years .
Before Mr. Recorder.
1822. MASON HEMMINGS , breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Elizabeth Sinnock Bennett, and stealing 1 watch, value 6l. 15s.; her property, having been before convicted: to which he pleaded GUILTY . Aged 47.— Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY . Aged 14.— Confined Three Months, and whipped .
ROBERT HILL ROSS . I am a bombardier in the Royal Artillery. Carson was a fifer in our battalion—I did not know Westwood—I have since found that he is an artilleryman—Carson was quartered at No. 46 room, at Woolwich-barracks—I was in No. 45—on 10th Sept., about a quarter-past 9 o'clock, Carson came and asked me the time—my watch was safe then, hanging up in my room on a peg, at the head of the bed—Carson could see it—I missed it about half-past 11 the same morning—I have seen it since—this (produced) is it—I have had it about eight years—I am sure it is mine.
WILLIAM JACKSON (policeman, R 284). On 10th Sept., I received infarmation, in consequence of which I went to Mr. Davis's pawnshop, in Thomas-street, about half-past 7 in the evening—as I was going in at the door, I noticed the boy, Carson, outside—as soon as he saw me go in, he moved across the road—my suspicions were aroused that he knew something of the
watch, and I went in to the pawnbroker's, and stood behind Westwood who was in the box—I found him offering this watch for pledge, it was then in the pawnbroker's hands—I heard him ask Westwood, "Is this your watch!"—he said it was—he asked how long he had had it—he said six months—he then said, "What did you give for the watch?"—he said, "A sovereign"—he asked who he bought it of—he said, "From one of our men"—I then stepped forward, and said to the pawnbroker, "That is the watch that was stolen this morning"—the pawnbroker handed it to me—I told Westwood that I should make him a prisoner—he said he had been nicely sucked into it, that it was given to him by a boy to pledge—I took him out, and found Carson there—I had told the pawnbroker's assistant to go after him—I asked him if this watch was his—he said yes, it was his watch—I showed it to him—he said it was his watch—I said, "How long have you had it?"—he said, "Six months"—I had hold of Westwood at this time—I said to Carson, "Now tell the truth," and after that he said, "I found it in the room."
Westwood's Defence. All I know about the watch is this: I was coming out from the barracks, and met the boy; he asked me where I was going; I said for a walk, he might come too if he liked; he came with me; in going along he said he had got his watch in his pocket; he had told me before that he had a watch in pawn, and his sister had fetched it out, and given it to him; he pulled it out, and let me see it; he said he was going to put it in pawn again; I advised him to keep it in his pocket, or take it to his sister; he said she would not take care of it; I said, "You had better take care of it yourself;" he said, "I don't care about that; I will go and take it to the pawnshop;" and asked me if I would take it; I refused him three or four times; he said they would not take it from him; and, at last, I went in with it; I wish to ask him if I knew anything about the watch being stolen, when he asked me to go and pledge it.
WILLIAM CARSON (the prisoner, sworn). I asked Westwood to pledge this watch for me—I told him it was my own—I told him that my sister had got it out of the pawnshop for me that day, and that I wanted to put it in the pawnshop—I did not tell him where I had got it from.
WESTWOOD— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
SARAH MAXWELL . I am housekeeper to Mr. Thomas Jones, a warden of Greenwich Hospital. On 10th Sept., in consequence of information, I went to a cupboard in Mr. Jones's house, and missed a frock and a pair of drawers and a handkerchief, from a chest of drawers in Mr. Jones's bedroom, and a shift from my own bedroom—these are them (produced)—they are Mr. Jones's, except the shift, which is mine—the frock belongs to Mr. Jones's grandchild, who is eight years old, and lives with him—I did not miss them till the duplicates were found; I had seen them safe three or four weeks before—we occasionally employed the prisoner as charwoman.
ROBERT WILLSON . I am assistant to Mr. Carter, pawnbroker, of Greenwich. On 16th May, the prisoner pledged this frock with me; the drawers on 16th July; the handkerchief on 30th; and the shift on 22nd—I know her before, and am quite sure she pledged them.
GUILTY . Aged 62.— Confined Four Months. (There were two other indictments against the prisoner.)
GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Three Months.
Before Mr. Recorder.
1826. SAMUEL STANES, THOMAS BATTCOCK , and MARY ANN MARKS , robbery on James Leary, and stealing from his person, 1 cap, 1 pair of boots, 1 knife, and 1 key, value 4s. 2d., and 17s. and 10d. in money; his property.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES LEARY . I am a labourer, of Haydon's-buildings, Wands worth. On Sunday night, 7th Sept., I had been drinking at several public-houses—I then went into the Grapes, at Wandsworth—it was then between 10 and 12 o'clock—I saw the two male prisoners there—I tossed with Battcock for some gin and beer, he challenged me to toss or I should not have done so—I changed half-a-sovereign at the bar—I had examined my money before I went into the house—I had half-a-sovereign, a 5s.-piece, a half-crown, in my right-hand trowaers pocket, and 3d. in copper in my jacket-pocket—I cannot say what beer I paid for, but I paid for bread and cheese in the bar; I felt the money in my pocket then, but only took out the half-sovereign—Everett changed it, and I put the change with the other money—when I got a short distance from the house, a woman, I cannot say whether it was Marks, came up to me and asked me if I was going home for the night—I told her no (the two male prisoners were by when she came up) she asked me to go home with her—I said I wanted to go home to my own place, and asked her where I was; she told me in a lane away from Putney—she said, "You promised to give me half-a-crown, and I will have it whether you go home with me or not"—I said I would not, and I did not want to go anywhere with her—she pat her hand in my trowsers pocket where my money was; the male prisoners were close by—I shoved the woman away, and they came up, knocked me down, and the hand of one of the men took the money out of my pocket—Stanes said, "If you insult my sister, I will knock you down"—they kicked me as I laid on the ground, knocked me about, and hurt me; my face was covered all over with blood—they turned me over, and searched all my pockets—they had their hands on my breast, and they both searched me with their other hands—the woman was standing by while the beating was going on—I cannot say whether she took anything out; they took my shoes and cap off, and took a knife from my pocket—Battcock got up, and went away before the others; I then laid hold of Stanes, and turned him under me on the ground—I was over him; the woman catched hold of me by the face, and pulled me from him—they left me foolish on the ground, not having sense enough to get up—Stanes and the woman beat me after Battcock had gone away, with their hands, and fists, and shoes—I was in liquor all the time—the police came up, and I described the parties to them—on the Tuesday following I went with the sergeant and saw some men, Battcock was with them—I am sure he is one of them; I pointed him out to the sergeant—he said, "I am not the man, it was the pot-boy who tossed with you"—I saw him by the water-side, where a good many of these girls and men live together—constable took Battcock to the Grapes—we saw the pot-boy there—he heard it, and said, "It was not me, for you sat one on one side of the
room, and one on the other"—he denied it, and pointed to the place where they sat—my boots and cap were worth 5s. or 6s.
JOHN WILLIAM EVERETT . I keep the Grapes, public-house. On Sunday night, 7th Sept., about 12 o'clock, or ten' minutes past, I cleared the tap-room, and cleared out Leary and the male prisoners, who were in front of the bar—I believe they were all drinking together—in payment for something Leary had, he gave me half-a-sovereign, which I fancied he took from his right-hand pocket—I gave him three half-crowns, 2s., and 2d. in halfpence, which he put into his pocket—he was paying for a quartern of gin—he bad paid for the bread and cheese previously with halfpence out of his pocket—he was a little fresh—he counted his money, and put it into his pocket—I do not remember seeing Marks in the house.
MATTHEW PHELEN (policeman, V 103). On Monday morning, 8th Sept., I saw Leary and the woman standing together against a gate, going into the fair green, Wandsworth—I had a woman in custody, who asked what o'clock it was—Marks said it was half-past 11 o'clock—that induced me to look at my watch, and it was a quarter or twenty minutes to I—I said the had made a bad guess—I noticed her particularly, and am sure she is the woman—Leary had no marks of violence at that time—this was abont 200 yards from the Grapes—I went to the Wandsworth police-station, came back, and found Leary lying by the road-side—I had to go a quarter or half a mile—I found him within 100 yards of where I saw them first—he had his cap and boots off, and was bleeding from the face—he complained of having beet robbed, and gave me a description—he said he lived at Wandswortb, and asked ma where he was—he was in liquor—Blythe and another policeman came, and I left as I had to go to Battersea—I found a key about 6 o'clock in the morning near the place where he had been lying—I gave it to sergeant Daly.
WILLIAM BLYTHE (policeman, V 271). About half-past 1 o'clock on this morning, I was going from Wandsworth to Battersea—I saw Leary talking to Phelen near the fair field—Leary's face was covered with blood, and his clothes were all dust—he made a complaint to me, and I pat him in the way home—he was drunk, but he said he knew where he was—he would walk well enough—I have known Battcock three or four years—he came out of the railway arch seventy or eighty yards further on—I said, "Well Mr. Batt, where are you off to this morning?"—he said, "Did you see Lize?"—I said, "What Eliza Stanes?"—he said, "Yes"—I said I had not seen her—he lives with Stanes' sister, Eliza—it was then half-past 1 o'clock—he was quite sober—he took out a pipe, and asked me to give him a light—he went on towards Wandsworth, and I went to Battersea—about half-past 3 I came back to the same spot, and found a boot-lace, and a constable with me found another—the ground was very much trampled about there, as if there had been a scuffle.
THOMAS DALY (police-sergeant, V 33). On 8th Sept., between 3 o'clock in the morning and half-past, I met Leary in High-street, Wandsworth—he complained of having been robbed—from what he said I went to stanes's house—he was not at home—I received this door-key from Phelen—I showed it to Leary—it locks and unlocks his door—in the afternoon I took Stanes at the Rose and Crown, Wandsworth, where he generally resorts—next day I went with Leary and Phelen, and took Marks at her house, Young's-buildings, Water-side, Wandsworth—there were five or six other women there—Phelen at once pointed out Marks as the woman he saw talking to Leary—Battcock was sitting down with some more men outside the house—Leary
said, "I think chat is the man that tossed with me at the Grapes"—I asked Battcock to go there—he stood up to come, and said, "It was not me, it was the pot-boy that tossed him"—I took him to the Grapes with Leary, and saw the pot-boy—Battcock said, "You are the one that tossed with Leary"—the pot-boy said, "No, you are the one; you sat here," pointing to where he sat—I asked Marks if she had not been at the Grapes—she said, "I was at the Grapes, but it was not me that was with the Irishman, it was Eliza Stanes"—I took Marks back a second time, and placed her alongside Eliza Stanes, and Phelen said it was Marks.
Battcock. Q. Did not Leary tell you he had been robbed of 24s.? A. He did when I first met him, and that he was robbed at Putney—he considered it was at Putney—Leary was not sober when I met him—he appeared as if he had been very stupidly drunk.
JOHN THORPE . I am a wagon-driver, of East-hill, Wandsworth. I was going to work on the morning of 9th Sept, and saw a man, I do not know who, standing under the wall opposite the fair field, near Mr. Coleman's, and two men in the road, scrambling about together, and a woman close by them—I do not know whether it was Marks—I know none of the prisoners—the men under the wall was forty yards from the others.
MARKS— NOT GUILTY .
STANES— GUILTY .* Aged 22.
BATTCOCK— GUILTY .* Aged 25. Transported for Seven Years .
Before Mr. Baron Martin.
1827. CHARLES WHICHER was indicted (with a man, named Winter, not in custody) for stealing 1 box, value 5s.; 2,000 yards of mousseline-delaine, 50 yards of merino, and other articles, value 147l.; the property of the London and South-western Railway Company: and JOHN SAYWARD, feloniously receiving the same.—Other COUNTS, varying the manner of stating the charge.
MESSRS. BALLANTINE and HUDDLESTON conducted the Prosecution.
EMILE DE LEAL . I am a clerk, in the employ of Messrs. Paturle, Lupil, and Co., manufacturers of mousseline-de-laine and merinos, at Paris. On 17th Feb. I was entrusted to make up a case of mousseline-de-laines and merinos for Messrs. Candy and Co.—I made the entry in my own writing, and put into the box thirty-four pieces of mousseline-de-laine of various colours, and two pieces of merino—the box was then taken down-stairs, into the lower room, and weighed—I took the weight of the goods from the scale, and put it down in ny book—the box was afterwards taken to the Douane, where the goods were examined by the Customs' officers, and the box was corded and leaded; I made out this invoice (produced), and gave it to the carrier—the mark on the box was "C. C. & C. 704"—I did not see it put into the cart—I left it there—it was in course of transmission for Havre—the pieces of merino were of a very valuable character, of very fine texture, and only made on order—we received the order to make this from Messrs. Caady and Co.—we do make it for other persons.
DENIS HALLA (through an interpreter). I am clerk to Messrs. Vereland and Co., shipping agents, of Havre, at the Rouen and Havre Railway. On 20tb Feb. last I had a case marked "C. C. & C. 704" taken to the Custom-house before shipping—it was opened in my presence, and I saw that it contained merinos—I saw it shipped on board the Wonder, for Southampton.
for landing the case marked "C. C. & C. 704" from the Wonder—it was examined by Mr. Batt, the Custom-house officer, in my presence—it contained mousseline-de-laines and merinos—I saw it being turned out of the loop-hole into the railway-wagon.
JOHN SCOTT . I am foreman of the goods-warehouses, Southampton Docks. On 21st Feb. a box marked "C. C. & C. 704" came into the warehouse, from the Wonder—I saw the case opened, and also nailed up again, and delivered into the railway-wagon No. 143, with "C. C. & C. 704" remaining on it—I saw it placed on the wagon, and afterwards saw the wagon covered over—it was then in the far-end of the wagon—the wagon remained in the dock—previous to being tied down, we put some more goods in—it was then removed to the turn-table.
JOHN BROWN . I am examiner of vehicles to the London and Southwestern Railway Company. On 21st Feb. wagon 143 started by the 7.40 train—it formed a portion of that evening's train to London—it would arrive in London about 2 o'clock in the morning.
HENRY WATTS . On 21st Feb. I made out the way-bill for the 7.40 train—this is it—(read—"7.40 train, Feb. 21, 1851; wagon 143, consignees Candy and Co; Watling-street; one package, case marked C. C. &c. 704;") then follows the weight and price—a way-bill does not always include all the packages sent by the same conveyance—I omitted to put down on that way-bill another parcel marked "M. L."—I believe it was sent, although it was not in that way-bill.
JAMES POULTER . On the night of 21st Feb. I was guard of the 7.40 train—it arrived at Nine Elms at 1.50—it is my duty to see the wagons all properly tied up before they leave the station, and to see them delivered on the siding—I delivered the trucks to the siding in a complete state, the same as I received them—we put the way-bills into the delivery-office—Mr. Treacher, the clerk, is there—it may be that he is not there sometimes when we leave the way-bills, but not very often.
PETER KENDAL . I am night-watchman, in the service of the Southwestern Railway Company, at Nine Elms. I remember the night goods-train coining in on 21st Feb.—there are two departments, the carriers' side and the Company's side—I know a man named Winter—he was on duty on the Company's side—that would give him access to the goods when they arrived by the goods-train—I had nothing to do with the unloading—I believe Winter was foreman of the gang.
GEORGE TREACHER . I am night-clerk, at Nine Elms station. On the morning of the 22nd Feb., about 3 o'clock, Poulter, the guard of the goods train, gave me the packages containing the way-bills—sometimes there are two or three way-bills from each station, sometimes but one—it was my duty to enter the way-bills into the Company's books, and to make an abstract of the market goods, and then they would be delivered by Chaplin and Horne's wagon, according to the directions—I have an office there—the way-bills are left in the office—I am present, and take possession of them directly—anybody can come in and lay them down, or deliver them to me—I enter them in this book (produced)—there is no entry here of any parcel directed to Noone, or Moore, of Finsbury—Winter was in the employ of the Company at this time, to check the way-bills off, and see that the articles on the waybills were correct, to compare them with the way-bills, and see that the goods in the trucks were entered in the way-bills—on the morning of the 22nd, between 4 and 5 o'clock, I delivered all the way-bills to Winter—here is a copy of the way-bill of the "C. C. and C." case in my book—Winter made
a communication to me—search was made for that case, but ft could not be discovered.
WILLIAM PALLINGER . I am clerk to Messrs. Chaplin and Horne, at Nine Elms station. It is my duty to make out the different carters' delivery-bills—we make out the ticket from the way-bills—on the morning of 22nd Feb. I made out this delivery-bill for Garrod, the carter—it is called a carter's delivery-bill; it is what the carter takes with the wagon, and upon which he receives the acknowledgment of the consignee, to whom the goods are sent—I find here a parcel for Noone, of Finsbury—the entry is, "Chiswick—Noone, Finsbury, 1 box, price 1s. 8d.;" after which there is a blank space left for the name of the party who acknowledges the receipt, which is the voucher to the carter for the delivery, and he brings this back to me, signed by the person to whom he ought to have delivered the goods, which is the voucher to me that they are delivered—I got this back from Garrod, the carter.
HENRY GARROD . I live in Goldington-street, St. Pancras'-road. On 22nd Feb. I was City carman to Chaplin and Home—on that day, at 6 o'clock in the evening, I delivered a box from the railway, as by this waybill—it was directed in the name of Noone, 22, Earl-street, Finsbury-square—when I got home I told the clerk it was not the name of Noone—there was a zinc plate on the house, with the name of "Plampin" on it—I delivered it to a woman I have seen since, Mrs. Plampin.
WILLIAM PLAMPIN . In Feb. I carried on business as a tailor at 22, Earl-street, Finsbury. I was tried at the last Winchester Assizes, and am under sentence of transportation—after my conviction I made a communication to the governor of the gaol—I was very uneasy in my mind—I have known the prisoner Whicher about two years—he was a greengrocer and coal-merchant, and lived at 14, Church-row, Aldgate—I knew a man named Winter, in the employ of the South-western Railway Company—on Saturday morning, 22nd Feb., between 12 and 1 o'clock, Whicher and Winter came to my house—they both asked me if the box had arrived—I said I knew of no box coming—they said there would be one arrive in a minute or two—they wanted something to eat, and Whicher went out and got some eggs—I was at work; and Whicher said, "You are busy at work"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Oh, d—n the work! there wilt be a box here presently will pay you a great deal better than that; it will pay you 20l. or 30l. "—they remained till about 4; but the box did not arrive during that time, and they left—before they left, Winter said the box would be in the name of Noone, that it was coming from the Nine Elms Station by Chaplin and Home's, and it was wrapped over in a piece of coarse sheeting, he called it, and as soon as it arrived I was to let Whicher know that he might let Winter know of its arrival—Winter said there was a box come up that morning marked "M. L.," I believe it was, and it was unentered, and that was very favourable to him, but he would not have anything to do with it, as he thought it was some shingle stuff for the Exhibition, but it was a favourable opportunity for him to have this one, marked "C. C. & C."—Whicher said he knew the firm it was consigned to, and he had no doubt it contained either silks or satins—Winter said that when it came up he went home, and got this wrapper and wrapped it round his body, took it into the station, and made out a way-bill for the box, and handed it with the other bills to the clerk—he took the wrapper off, and put it round the box in the truck it had come in, and there was no name on the wrapper, but he had put a direction in the name of Noone on a card tied to the cord it was corded with—he said he lodged the way-bill in the office, and he afterwards got this one out again and burnt it—the box arrived between 6 and 7
in the evening, and my wife took it in—it was directed as I was told it would be—I went the same evening to Whicher at the Mitre, Mitre-street, Aldgate—I told him the box had arrived—he went home, put on his hat and coat, and said, "Come along with me," and I went with him to Fenchurch-street, where he called a cab, and we went to a beer-shop at Nine Elms, and he asked the landlord to send for Winter—Winter came, and was told of the arrival of the box—we remained together a few minutes, then went down to Vauxhall-bridge where the cab was left, and went home—I was at home the, next day, Sunday—Whicher came about 9, took the wrapper off the box, and I assisted him to open it—after the wrapper was taken off, there was a direction, "C. C. & Co.," on it, and some figures, but I cannot recollect what they were—Winter was not present; I believe my wife was—the box contained thirty-four pieces of Paris de laines (the tickets attached to each piece were marked), and two pieces of Paris merino—they were all counted, taken out of the box, and packed on my drawers in the back-room for that evening—Whicher took two pieces out, and said one would do for himself, and one would do for me—they were both put together; one was green, and the other maroon—they were both taken from my house on the Monday evening when the others were taken—Whicber came the next evening, and packed up these two pieces by themselves, and took them to the Mitre—Winter came about 10 on the Sunday, and there were patterns taken of the other pieces, and he said he could take them to a man to see if he could sell them; and he took them away—I met him the same day in Crown-street, and be told me Abrahams and Myers were coming to look at these goods at 2 at my house—he had not mentioned their names to me before—I knew them—I said I would not have them coming there on a Sunday—I had a gentleman and his wife and son and another lady lodgers in my house—they were generally at home—I said I would not have them come on the Sunday, because I did not wish them to come to my house at all—I went the same day to the Mitre with Whicher, and Winter was there first—Abrahams and Myers came in afterwards—Abrahams wanted to know what they wanted for the merinos and de laines, and 1s. was asked—I believe I asked that myself—I am not exactly confident that that was in the presence of Whicher—in the course of the afternoon, Whicher said he wondered whether George Senior would buy, and said to me, "You had better go there, and take him some patterns"—Senior keeps the Black Dog, in Sun-street, Bishopsgate—I went there in the evening, saw Senior, and left the patterns with him—in consequence of what he said to me, I went the next morning to him—he promised to take me somewhere, but did not—I called again on the following day, Tuesday, and again on Wednesday—on the Friday morning I received a message, in consequence of which I went to Senior's house, and found Senior and the prisoner Sayward in the bar-parlourboth looking at the patterns—Say ward asked me what I wanted for them—I said, "1s. a yard"—I had never seen him before—he said he would not give 1s.; he would write on a bit of paper what he would give me, and he wrote the figure "8"—I said, "You must give me another 1d. a yard for it"—he said he did not mind giving me 1d. a yard extra for the two pieces of black merino, but not for the others—he asked how many yards there were in each piece, and I said they were marked 58 on the ticket—he said he should like to see a whole piece, and I fetched the two pieces we had taken to the Mitre—I showed them to him—he said they were generally short measure, and they were reckoned at 56 yards to each piece instead of 58—Senior then fetched a little book, I think it was called a ready-reckoner, and said to Sayward, "What do you make it come to?"—Senior said he
made it come to 1l. 17s. 4d. each piece at 8d.; and Sayward said he made it come to the same—I made a bargain with him for him to take the twenty-eight pieces of de-laine and the two pieces of merino at 8d. a yard, and 9d. for the two pieces of black; they came to 56l. 5s.—the black contained only 30 yards—no price was mentioned to take them by the lump—after the bargain had been made, Sayward said to Senior, "How shall we get them down there?—I said, I would send a man down with them with a cart—Sayward said that would not do, and I said I would bring them—he said, "What time will you come?"—I said when it would suit him—he said I had better go about 8 o'clock in the evening—this was on Friday, 28th Feb.—he gave me his address—it was No. 8, some place, I forget the name, but it was eight doors from the turnpike in the Commercial-road—Vincent, a carman, of Stepney-green, called at my house for the goods, by Whicher's order, and took them in his cart, and they were left at his house—Whicher kept the two pieces that I have spoken of—I was present with Whicher and Vincent when the goods were delivered at Say ward's—we got to Vincent's about 7 in the evening, and as soon as he came with the cart, the goods were pot in—I cannot say exactly, but we got to Sayward's about a quarter or twenty minutes past 8—Whicher was in the cart, but got out when we got to the turnpike, and we took the goods to Sayward's shop—Sayward was there, and said he would meet roe at Senior's, at 10 that night, for the purpose of paying me part of the money—I then went back in Vincent's cart, and we took up Whicher in the New-road, I believe it is called, which runs from Commercial-road into Whitechapel-road; and him and me went and took the other six pieces, that had not been sold, to Hornbin, who keeps the Mitre—they remained there till we left, and Whicher took part of them away; and I believe I took the two pieces in my wrapper that had been before selected—we then went to Senior's, and got there about 10, as near as possible—Sayward was there, and he paid me 15l. in gold, and 5l. in silver—he asked me for a receipt, and wrote this one produced—I put the name of Romney to it, which was the name on the cart—(read—"Feb. 28, 1851.—Mr. Sayward, Bought of H. Romney. Job lot—de-laines, 60l.—By cash 20l., same time. H. Romney. Settled.")—I put the name of H. Romney, because I did not wish him to know my name—I do not know what particular motive I had—I had no other motive, I believe—the "60l." was not on the receipt when I put my name to it; I will swear that—Sayward said he would meet me there that day week, to pay me the other part of the money—he told me he had looked at the goods, and asked me why I did not take the tickets off; and said he should have to sit up very nearly all night to get the tickets off, and get them ticketed afresh, fit to go into his stock—they were ticketed with tickets of the description of this one (produced)—I got 10l. more on the night that he promised to meet me again at Senior's; he paid me himself—he said he should not be able to let me have any more till after the 17th March—I went down about that time and got 2l.; and about a week or ten days after, I got the remainder, 24l. 5s.—that last payment was made at Sayward'g house—he said he had sold the two pieces of merino, and if I had anything else to bring I was to take it to the shop where he paid me, and not to the other shop where I had delivered the first goods—one shop is a little lower down than the other, but they communicate.
Q. How was this money divided? A. I asked Whicher what I should do with the first money; in fact, I offered it to him, and he said, "You had better keep it till Winter comes down"—I did so, and he kept 5l. himself, and gave Winter 10l., and I had the two pieces of de-laine—the 2l. I had
myself; the 10l. was paid to Winter; and 10l. of the 24l. 5s. was paid to Winter, 8l. to Whicher, and I had the rest 6l. 5s. myself.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. When you first saw Say ward, did not you say they were a job lot of goods that you had to sell for another person? A. I did not—I have never said so, to my knowledge—I swear I have not said anything to that effect, to the best of my belief—I swear I did not—I said I had them to sell for another person, but the job lot I never mentioned—I swear I did not represent myself as an agent; I did not state I was in the habit of effecting sales for other people—Mr. Senior was present during the whole of the conversation at his house—Say ward's shop was open when I took the goods, and he was there, and his brother, and an elderly gentleman, who I presume to be his father—I believe there was one customer—I cannot say whether there were any shopmen—it was within a very short distance of the turnpike—there was gaslight—when I went to Senior's at 10 o'clock, I went into the bar-parlour; there was no one there but Senior, Sayward, and myself—you are obliged to go through part of the bar to get there—there was a barmaid at the bar—I have known Senior four, five, or six years—he has kept this house about three years—it has the appearance of a respectable house, as far as I know—it is well frequented by the lower orders—when I exhibited these goods for sale, Say ward disputed their being wool; but he afterwards said he believed they were—I believe I went to his place three times for money—I am satisfied I went twice.
MART PLAMPIN . I am last witness's wife; I have known Whicher about two years and a half; I know Winter. On Saturday, 22nd Feb., about 1 o'clock, Whicher and Winter came to our house and asked if there bad been a case come—I said there had not—my husband was at home at work—they had eggs and bread and butter to eat, and remained till about 5—they said the box was coming by Chaplin and Home's, from the South Western Railway, and it was for Mr. Noone—Winter said it was the property of Candy and Co.—he said there was another case, marked "LM S," but he did not like the look of it, that it was straw or hay at the top, and he thought it was some shingle intended for the Exhibition—I was in and out during the time they were there—between 6 and 7 a case came in one of Chaplin and Home's carts, addressed "Mr. Noone, to be left at Mr. Plam pin's, 22, Earl-street, Finsbury, till called for" it was covered with unbleached calico—I paid the carter 1s. 8d., and gave him 2d. for himself—I signed the bill (looking at a bill handed to her)—this is what I wrote, "Noone"—I saw Whicher the next morning, and he opened the case—my husband was present—under the calico there was a wooden box, and when that was opened there was a few shavings, and the rest was mousseline-de-laines and merinos—they were various colours—one black one was so fine that it was like a silk—Winter came afterwards—Whicher cut some patterns—the goods were taken out of the box and packed up on a chest of drawers in the bed-room—Whicber came on the Monday, and said that Vincent must take them away, they must not remain there—they were put into another box, and wrapped up in the same wrapper, and my husband, Whicher, and Vincent took them away in a cart—my husband afterwards gave me a piece of maroon and a piece of blue mousseline-delaine—the maroon I gave up to inspector Brannan, and the blue I took to my husband's brother when my husband was in trouble, and I believe it was destroyed.
WILLIAM VINCENT . I live at 14, Mapp's-row, Stepney-green, and am a carman—I know Whicher and Plampin—Whicher was a greengrocer, and kept a coal-shed in Church-row, Aldgate—I saw Whicher and Plampin in Feb.,
I cannot say the exact day—they asked me to remove some goods from Plampin's house—I agreed to do it, and brought away a box and a large bundle with a cord round it—Plampin and Whicher put them into my van, and we then all went to my house, where the parcels were left for two or three or it might be four days, when they asked me to move them to Mr. Sayward's; I did so—they both went with me, bat Whicher left us at the New-road, a short distance from the turnpike—after the goods were delivered we picked up Whicher again a short distance off Sayward's house, and we went to the Mitre.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Do you keep carts? A. No; my master does, Mr. Samuel Howard—the goods came to my house in the fore-part of the week, it might be Monday, or it might be Tuesday—they left my house in the evening, about 8, between 7 and 8, or between 8 and 9 o'clock—it was dark at the time—I have known Plampin about a year and a half—I believe he is a tailor—I did not know Senior before I saw him at the Court—I did not carry any gold dust.
Cross-examined by MR. SERGEANT WILKINS. Q. But you bad carried goods for Plampin before? A. Not to my recollection—I will not swear I have not done so three or four times—I cannot recollect carrying any goods for him before that time—my master did not know I was carrying these goods—I cannot swear I have not carried any before—I might have carried things for him at different times, not knowing what it was for, or anything about it—I might have carried goods for him four times before—it was not generally in the evening—I have seen him in the day as well as the evening—I never carried goods for him at any other time than this that I am aware of—I do not recollect carrying goods for him as many as four-times before—I cannot say—I took the box into Mr. Sayward's shop.
JAMES BRANNAN (police-inspector, G). On 26th July I went to Whicher's house, 14, Church-row, Aldgate, and told Mrs. Whicher that I was a police-constable—while I was speaking to her Whicher came to the door—his wife said something to him which I did not hear—he had two live ducks in his hands, which he put down in the passage, and walked hurriedly up towards the end of the court away from me—I followed, stopped him, and took him into custody—I told him I belonged to the police—he said, "Yes, I know it"—I told him I took him into custody for stealing a quantity of merinos, and other articles of drapery, the property of the South Western Railway Company—I took him back to his house—he paused for about a minute, and then said, "I know nothing about it myself"—I sent for inspector Field, and in company with sergeant Shaw I searched the house—in a room up-stairs I saw Mrs. Whicher pull down three dresses, which bung behind the door, and throw them down-stairs—this is one of them (produced)—in a chest of drawers I found a piece of merino, of the same colour as the dress; I produce it—I saw Mrs. Whicher take two pieces off a drawer and press them in the folds of her dress, and I took them from her hand (produced)—on the next day, Sunday, 27th July, I accompanied inspector Field to Sayward's house, and law Sayward—he said be could not find the invoice, but would endeavour to do so in the afternoon, and it was agreed I was to call the following morning, which I did, between 8 and 9 o'clock, and received this one, which has been read—he said he had had some difficulty in finding it among his papers, he was sorry for putting me to the inconvenience of calling another time—I gave it to Field.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Does the green dress appear to have been worn? A. Yes.
Cross-examined by MR. SERGEANT WILKINS. Q. How many times did yon go to Say ward's house? A. Twice; the first time was Sunday—Field had been before, and it was in reference to some inquiry Field had made about the invoice, that Say ward said be could not find it then, but would endeavour to do so against the next day—I was not in my uniform, Field told him I was an inspector of police—I was alone when I called on 28th—I did not make any search—I bad received a box the day before, and marked it; he voluntarily gave it to me—it contains some of the property—I do not know whether it is the original box in which the goods were packed.
FREDERICK SHAW (policeman, A 29). On 26th July, I went with Brannan to Whicher's house—Brannan was there about two minutes before me, and when I got there Whicher was in custody—I saw Brannan find the articles produced—I went into the bedroom, and found the maroon dress produced in a bureau-bedstead, the doors of which were closed.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Was Brannan there at the time? A. Yes.
CHARLES FREDERICK FIELD . I am an inspector of the detective police. On 26th July I went with Brannan to Whicher's house—I left Brannan there, and went to Say ward's shop, in the Commercial-road—I said, "I want to speak to you on some private business"—he said, "Come to the back of the shop"—I said, "My name is Field, I am an inspector of the detective police; from information I have received I understand you have purchased a quantity of mousseline-de-laine and merinos, of a certain party"—he hesitated for some time, and then went and called his brother—I stated the same thing to his brother, and said, "I don't want to use a search-warrant, provided you show me the articles"—the prisoner said, "Well, I did purchase some goods of a party"—I said, "Let me look at them"—we then retired into the back-parlonr, the prisoner brought out these nine or ten pieces (produced), and laid them on the table; I took them away—I said, "Have you any more?"—he said, "No, we have not"—I said, "Are you sure of it, now?"—he said, "You have got every yard of it"—I then asked him who he purchased them from; he said from a man named Plampin—I said, "Do you know him?"—he said, "Yes, I was introduced to him at Mr. Senior's public-house, called the Black Dog;" that he had been out one day collecting his rents in Bethnal-green, had called round at Mr. Senior's, and had a glass of ale, and Mr. Senior called him inside the bar-parlour, and showed him some patterns of merinoes and mousseline-de-laines, and said, "Can you do anything with these?" and he said, "If I can buy them under the market-price, I have no objection to purchasing them"—I asked him whether he knew Whicher, he said he did not; I asked him whether he ever purchased anything of a man named Whicher, he said he never did—I then asked him whether he had got an invoice of the goods, he said he had—I asked him for it; he went to look over some papers, and said he could not find it—I said, "I will call to-morrow, in the afternoon, and perhaps you will be able to find it in the course of that time;" we counted the number of pieces we had, and when we came away I said, "Now Mr. Say ward, have you any more of this property?" he said, "No, I have not"—he said he bought them he believed for about 57l., and had paid him 20l. down, and the rest was paid by instalments—I took the goods away, and called again on the Sunday; he said he had been looking for it every where, and could not find it—I afterwards received the invoice from Brannan; this is it (produced)—on the Wednesday following, I went again with Mr. Young, the superintendent of the South Western Line, and Mr. Wilson, the managing man, from Messrs. Candy's; we saw
Sayward—I said, "Mr. Sayward, I have brought this gentleman," painting to Mr. Wilson, "who is able to identify the property, and I have reason to believe you have some more;" he said, "I have no more, you had it all when you were here before"—I said, "Let us go into the shop, and look over the stock"—we went in, and he said, "If I have any more, it is more than I know"—he then went behind the counter, and pulled out some of the goods which were tied up in paper; these are them (produced)—they were some under the counter, and some in one paper, and some in another, and one piece was at the side—he took them all about the same time, put them on the counter, and Mr. Wilson identified them—Mr. Young said to me, "There was some black;" I said, "Where is your black?" Sayward said, "We have not got it, we have sold it all, there were two pieces" I said, "Let us have a look; where do you keep the black?" he went to another part of the counter, and produced some black; Mr. Wilson immediately put his hand on one piece and said, "That is ours;" Sayward said, "I did not know we had got it, I thought it was sold, I sold it for 4s. 11d. per yard"—I took him into custody on the Friday; on searching him I found several letters, and a written paper.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. The first time you went was Saturday? A. Yes; I went again on Sunday, on Wednesday, and on Friday—I did not make use of a search-warrant—I did not say I would the first time I went—I said, "I don't want to use a search-warrant, provided you produce the goods to me"—when the goods were produced, they were produced from under the counter—there were a good many other goods produced—these were amongst them—some of the goods he produced did not belong to Candy and Company.
THOMAS BENT (policeman, V 95). I was employed by the London and South-Western Railway Company. I have been their police-superintendent since 1847—I accompanied Inspector Field to Say ward's and heard what took place between him and Sayward—I know Winter—he was formerly in the employ of the Company as foreman of a gang—I have been looking for him to apprehend him, but have not been able.
CHARLES WILSON . I live at 4, Watling-street, and am manager to Messrs. Candy and Co., of 4, and 5, Watling-street—Mr. Candy's Christian name is Charles—they import foreign goods, and things of that kind, and have a correspondent in Paris, Faturle, Lupil, and Co.—they are manufacturers of mousseline-de-laine and merinos—on 18th Feb., I expected a box containing mousseline-de-laines and merinos—if they had arrived according to advice, they ought to have arrived on Saturday morning, 22nd Feb.—they did not arrive, and they have been paid for by the South-Western Railway Company—I accompanied the officers to Say ward's house—I said, "Mr. Sayward, among the goods sent to us, there were two pieces of blue, and I have not seen any blue amongst these, perhaps you will produce them"—he said, Yes, there were two pieces he believed, but be had not got them, he bad given up every yard to the officers when they were last in his house—after some conversation the officer told him he had better produce what he had got—he hesitated, and said he had not got any of it, and repeated that several times—ultimately a parcel was produced, among which was a piece of blue which I recognized as part of our property—this is a piece of it (produced)—here are about seventeen and a half yards of it which I recognize as the same make as the Paris house—after he had pulled out several pieces of mousseline-de-laine, I said, "Among this lot were two very rich pieces of merino, perhaps you can find some of that also?"—Oh!" said he, "by-the-by there were two rich pieces, but I have sold them long ago at 4s. 11d. a
yard"—I said, "Why our wholesale price is 10s. 6d. a yard"—he said, "Well; I am no judge of French merinos, there was a question and discussion between me and my brother whether it was a cotton warp, but I said at last it was a Coburg"—I said, "If you are not a good judge of French merinoes, you are of Coburg, to sell that at 4s. 11d. a yard"—Coburgs are not in our trade, but they are made from 1d. a yard upwards—I believe there are Coburgs sold as high as 4s. 11d., but I do not profess to know anything about it—I said, "Perhaps you have got some black stock in your shop"—he said, "Yes; I have"—I said, "Produce it, and let me have a look at that"—the shop is dark—it is a tally-shop, and has curtains—the black stuff was produced—I found this piece, and recognized it immediately—it could not be mistaken for cotton warp at all—it is not like Coburg at all—Coburg is half cotton—the wholesale price of this black in London is 10s. 6d.—the order had been for certain colours and numbers—I have examined all these, and believe them to be part of the order—the mousseline-de-laines are worth 17d. wholesale price—Paturle, Lupil, and Co. are considered the best makers in the world—in retail business the tickets are always left on—they indicate the number of the piece, the length, the colour, and the price—I am not aware whether they would take them off in a retail shop when sold, but generally in Paturle's make they leave the mark on, because people are glad to know that they are Paturle's make—I have examined the whole of these pieces—the marks an taken off all of them—we always sew on in white thread the selvage of a piece—I should say that custom would not be known to anybody, but a dealer—I have looked for the mark, and find on all the whole pieces delivered up to me a portion of the selvage has been taken off—the end of the piece ought to have come to the fold, whereas the piece, has been torn off all along, which would take off the piece sewn with white thread—I cannot form any opinion of those pieces which have been cut—I have not calculated the value of the merino produced from his shop—the value of the whale order was 147l., or very near 150l.—there was no duty—they are free goods.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. How much black goods were there in the shop besides that piece? A. He produced, I suppose, about ten times the quantity of this black; he did not produce the black as soon as I asked for them; he hesitated—as soon as Field said, "Produce your black goods," he produced them—the rest of the goods were taken from different parts of the shop—every parcel he brought out contained our goods.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Were the bulk your goods? A. Perhaps one parcel had two pieces in it; they were not all our goods, but in each parcel there was something of a different quality and kind—our goods were divided between a number of different parcels—he produced three or four pieces, among which there were two blues, one I rejected altogether, and this I said belonged to us—there was nothing to strike my attention in the others.
EMILE DE LEAL re-examined. I have examined all these articles, and believe them to be a portion of the merinos and mousseline-de-laines I packed up and sent to Candy and Co.—here is a mark at one end—all our pieces are cut in two; that indicates that it is our manufacture—they are all ticketed in this way, and have our private mark, which indicates that it is our workmanship—these two gowns are of the same quality and description as the other pieces—I believe them to be our workmanship, but there is no mark, it is of the same quality, description, and colour.
Cross-examined by MR. PARNELL. Q. They are both very common colours, are they not? A. We have more of the green than of the other—we send a very large quantity to this country—their having been worn makes
it still more difficult to know whether they ate our manufacture; I do not say positively that they are.
The following witnesses were called for Sayward.
CHARLES SMEDHAM BURN . I live in Friday-street, Cheapside, and am agent to five manufacturing houses. I have known Sayward eight years, and have had a great many transactions with him, and always found him honest.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. What are the transactions you have had with him? A. Selling manufactured goods, Bradford, and Coburgs, and other goods; I have only sold him one parcel of Coburgs—Coburgs are worsted goods—this piece of blue (looking at it) might be mistaken for a very fine Coburg; I should mistake it for a Coburg myself, without examining the warp; I say that on my oath—I have sold Coburgs as high as 2s. 6d.; I never sold them at 4s. 11d.—mine are a lower class of goods—I did not know Sayward in 1841—I knew him when he lived eight doors beyond the turnpike in the Commercial-road; I think it was Hereford-place—I never heard of a robbery from Hosey, of Miller's-wharf, or from some people named Miller—I never heard of people named Levine or Bateman.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You knew him in Hereford-street? A. Yes, he lives there now—I knew him when he began business, thirty-eight years since—I do not know Levine or Bateman, or of a robbery of goods from Miller's Wharf—I think I heard of Sayward being a witness at this Court—I heard of some goods which he had been called on in some way to account for—I do not know what they were—I heard they were calicoes, but never heard the particulars—I did not know they had been stolen—I knew they had come in some way improperly into his hands, and a question had arisen on the subject—I swear I did not hear they had been stolen—I swear I did not hear that people had been convicted of stealing them—I never heard it till this moment—I heard that goods were traced to his house which had been alleged to have been improperly come by—I never heard that he had to give them up.
MR. SERJEANT WILKINS. Q. You heard there was a trial, did you also hear that Mr. Sayward was a witness for the prosecution? A. I knew he was a witness, I do not know whether for the prosecution or the defence.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Did you ever hear of this affair of Miller's Wharf? A. Never, until I beard it just now.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You lived near him all the time? A. Yes; I never heard of the robbery at Miller's Wharf till I heard you name it—I never heard of his being a witness in this Court—I was living a quarter of a mile from him in 1841—I was not on terms of intimacy with him, only as a neighbour—his wife and my wife went to school together—I did not hear anything in 1841.
THOMAS GORBELL . I am a bookseller, of 16, Hereford-place, Commercial-road. I have known Mr. Sayward about sixteen years—I never heard any accusation against him—he has borne the very best of characters as an honest man.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. As you knew him in 1841, did you hear of some inquiry in which he was a witness? A. Never—I have lived within ten doors of him for the last fourteen years—I was on speaking terms with him—if it occurred, he never mentioned it to me.
WILLIAM NOBLE . I am a stay-manufacturer, of 18, Charles-street, St. George's-in-the-East. I have known Say ward since 1838—he is a hardworking, honest, sober man—I never knew anything against his character.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you heard anything of the calicoes? A. Not till I heard it from you.
HENRY HAZLEHURST . I am a toy-dealer, of 17, Hereford-place, Commercial-road. I have known Say ward eight or ten years—he has borne a very good character as an upright, Honourable, respectable man—I never knew anything against his character—I speak more from general report than as a neighbour.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Do his father and brother live with him? A. I know they are both in the shop with him.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Can you tell me whether his father and brother live with him? A. They do.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you remember any calico of large value, belonging to Forbes and others, being taken from Miller's Wharf? A. I never heard of it—I never heard of his being a witness in 1841—we have been on terms of acquaintanceship—neither he nor anybody else ever mentioned anything of that kind to me—I never heard of calico being traced to his shop, or being taken possession of by the officers.
WHICHER— GUILTY of Receiving . Aged 42.
SAYWARD— GUILTY of Receiving . Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.
MESSRS. CLARKSON and PARNELL submitted, in arrest of Judgment, that the first COUNT alone gave the name and value of the goods and the name of the owners, the other COUNTS only calling them "the said goods and chattels" or "the goods and chattels aforesaid;" and contended that those words would not bring down from the first COUNT the names and value of the goods (see Reg. v. Parker, 3 Queen's Bench Reports, p. 292; Reg. v. Martin, 6 Car. and Payne, p. 217; and 1 Dennison's Crown Cases, 356). The COURT was clearly of opinion that there was no foundation for the objection, but that there was a perfect and complete description of the goods.)
WHICHER— Transported for Ten Years .
SAYWARD— Confined One Year .
There was another indictment against Whicher.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
GUILTY . Aged 17— Confined Six Months.
GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
Black friars-road. On 3rd Sept. the prisoner came with three women, about half-past 4 o'clock—he called for a quartern of gin—he gave me a sixpence, and I gave him 2d. change—I put the sixpence on the pewter on the top of the till—there was no other money there—he took the change and the gin, and I took the sixpence, to put into the till—I saw it was bad, and put it in with the farthings, where there was no other silver—the prisoner and the women remained in the house—he called for a pint of porter in about five minutes after he had the gin—for that he gave me 2d.—he remained in the house—I did not say anything to him about the sixpence—in about half an hour he came to the bar for half a quartern of gin—he gave me another sixpence—I saw it was bad—I said, "You have given me two bad sixpences"—he made no reply—I took the other sixpence from the farthings, and called my husband—he sent for an officer—I gave the two sixpences to my husband—the prisoner was in my house about three-quarters of an hour altogether—there were no other persons but the three females—they remained there till the prisoner went away with the policeman—when he was gone, they said they would walk to the police-office, and see how he got on.
WILLIAM GILES . I am landlord of the General Abercrombie. On 3rd Sept. I saw the prisoner in front of the bar—my wife called me—I went to the bar—she had these two sixpences in her hand—she said, "This party has offered me two bad sixpences"—I asked the prisoner what he had got to say—he said the first sixpence he gave was a new one—my wife said these were the two that he gave her—she gave them to me—I got a policeman, marked the sixpences, and gave them to him.
GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Six Months.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, OCTOBER 27TH.