CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
Taken in Short-hand
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Rolls Chambers, 89, Chancery Lane.
SESSION I. TO VI.
GEORGE HEBERT, CHEAPSIDE.
WILLIAM TYLER, PRINTER, BOLT-COURT, FLEET-STREET.
On the Queen's Commission of the Peace,
OYER AND TERMINER, AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, November 22nd, 1852, and following Days.
Before the Right Hon. THOMAS CHALLIS, M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir Edward Hall Alderson, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir William Taylor Coleridge, Knt., one of the Judges of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Charles Farebrother, Esq.; John Kinnersley Hooper, Esq.; Sir James Duke, Bart., M.P,; and Thomas Farncomb, Esq.; Aldermen of the said City: the Right Hon. James Archibald Stuart Wortley, Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City: Thomas Sidney, Esq., M.P.; Francis Graham Moon, Esq.; William Lawrence, Esq.; Sir Robert Walter Carden, Knt.; David Williams Wire, Esq.; and William Cubitt, Esq., M.P.; Aldermen of the said City: Edward Bullock, Esq., Common Serjeant of the said City: and Russell Gurney, Esq., Judge of the Sheriff's Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
JOHN CARTER, Esq., Ald., F.R.A.S.
ALXANDER ANGUS CROLL, Esq.
THOMAS MORTIMER CLEOBURY, Esq.
WILLIAM BOYCE JAMES, Esq.
LIST OF JURORS.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
CHALLIS, MAYOR. FIRST 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 thieves.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, November 22nd, 1852.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Mr. Ald. FAREBROTHER; Mr. Ald. HOOPER; Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. MOON; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE, and Sir RORBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Ald.
Before Mr. Recorder and the First Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM PINNOCK . I live at No. 1, St. James's-terrace, Harrow-road, and am a corn and flour factor; I have been carrying on business in London since last June; previous to that I had carried on business at Reading. I know Keene; I knew him when he was in the service of Messrs. Avex and Terry—in July last I saw him at the corn market; he told me be could recommend some good customers, who would buy some flour of me—he said he had left the house of Avex and Terry, and was living on his income, which was between 100l. and 200l. a year—I told him to bring no customers but those he knew; he said he would bring me none but the very best—a friend of mine had some transaction with him about some sacks—about 6th Aug. I saw him again in the market—he said he had an excellent customer, a man very trustworthy indeed, who was going to open a shop at 10, Southamptonplace, Camberwell, and he wished me to send ten sacks of flour there; he gave me the customer's name, and I wrote it down as he spelt it to me, "William Jerrard"—I have the name here, which I wrote down at the time—I asked him if he was a man of property, and trustworthy; he said, "Yes," he had known him many years, and done business with him, and he had always paid uncommonly well—some few days afterwards I sent the ten sacks of flour by my carman—on 12th Aug. Keene and Jarrett came to my
house together; Keene introduced Jarrett as his friend, who wanted to buy some oats—he said, "This is my friend Jerrard"—Jarrett then handed me his card—I said, "Why, this is spelt Jarrett?"—Keene replied, "That is right," and said he had made a mistake when he gave me the name of Jerrard—I asked him how he liked the flour—he said he liked the flour in my sacks better than that in the sacks marked "Longford"—I asked him some questions about his business—he said he had a very good business, an excellent shop; the lease previously was worth 700l., and he had got it under peculiar circumstances, and should be able to do a good business, and he should want to buy a larger quantity of flour—Keene and he looked at some samples of oats, and directed me to send in ten quarters—he then said he should be a buyer of a larger quantity of flour, for he had some money, and he might as well lay it out in flour—I told him I should be very glad to sell him some, if he could find the money for it; they then both left—I saw Keene on the market, two or three days afterwards; that was the third time—I asked him what he thought of Jerrard—he said he was a man of plenty of money, and was going to buy some flour, and he had seen him with three 50l. notes the night before, and he was sure he had plenty of money—Jerrard came again two or three days afterwards, with a person, whom he introduced as a neighbour and friend, and who I have since learned is named Nicholls—he said he had come to buy fifty sacks of flour, if we could deal—I said I should be very glad to sell him some, or Mr. Nicholls either—Nicholls said he was not a buyer at present, but he should like to buy some hereafter—I sold Jerrard fifty sacks; he asked me what I would allow him for fetching it away—I said I generally did it myself—he said he had a horse and cart—I ultimately consented to allow him fourpence a sack—he said he would pay me for the flour, I think, on Monday week—he said he wanted to buy a considerable quantity, as it would improve by keeping in his shop, as he was only doing a small trade at present—he and Nicholls ultimately left my house together; they afterwards came back again; Nicholls stood at the door and said, "My friend Jerrard left home without money, and as this is to be a money transaction I will give him 50l. of the money for this deal, and he has promised to pay me when we return home"—I told him no, I was not desirous of receiving the money yet; and Nicholls said it would be inconvenient for him as he was going to pay his millers, and should have to go all the way to Camberwell to receive the money of Jerrard—on the following day, the 24th, I think twenty-five of the sacks were fetched away; the other twenty-five were delivered on the following day—Jerrard came to me, I believe it was on the day after the delivery of the flour, and paid me 50l.—that reduced the account to 113l.; he gave an order at the same time for twenty quarters of oats, at 18s., and thirty quarters, at 21s. 6d.—he said when he had the oats he would pay the balance altogether—some time after that he wrote me a note, in consequence of which I sent half a load of hay; I did not send any straw, because I had none—on my return home that night, my man told me something; in consequence of which I went that same night to Keene's house, in Harriet-place; I think Southampton-street, Camberwell—I found him at home; he said he was just coming up to my house—I asked him what this was that I had heard about Jerrard; that I heard he was gone to gaol, and that Jerrard's wife took in the hay, and she was drunk; that I could not understand it—he said she was very much excited about her husband's going to gaol, and that he was gone for being security for a person for 40l.—I said, "What does Nicholls know about Jerrard?"—he said he would go with me
to Nicholls; he got into my gig, and we drove up to Nicholls's shop—Keene stepped out of my gig and went into Nicholls's, and then into his bakehouse; he was some time there, and they both came up together—I asked Nicholls how long he had known Jerrard—he said, "About a month"—I said, "I thought you must have known a great deal of him;" that was in Keene's presence—I asked him if he had heard that Jerrard was gone to gaol, and how he came to offer to lend him 50l.—he said he thought he was a respectable man, and he had not known him long—I asked him if he would go with Keene to Jerrard, and get some particulars as to what arrangement he meant to make regarding my debt—he promised me he would go, and with that understanding I left—next day I saw Keene at the market; he said Nicholls had been to Horsemonger-lane and had seen Jerrard, and he brought a note from Jerrard to me—he said the money would be all right, and Jerrard was coming out of gaol next day—he said nothing about what had been done with the flour—I saw Keene once afterwards in Mark-lane, but not since; I asked him where Jerrard was, as he had not been to pay according to promise—he said be expected he would have been with me before, and no doubt he was over at the Elephant public house opposite; he went to look for him, returned, and said he could not find him—I went to look for him at another public house, but never saw him afterwards—on 8th Sept. I went to Jerrard's shop; the place appeared in a general state of confusion; I saw no flour there; there were a few twopenny loaves there—I have traced fifty of my sacks of flour to Nicholls's shop, and the corn and oats to a man named Brown, who is here—when I heard of Jerrard being in gaol, I asked Keene how he came to say he had seen three 50l. notes in his hand—he said it was a mistake, that they were three fives—I was somewhere in the neighbourhood of Bayswater, and saw Jerrard through a public house window, as I was sitting in my gig; I went into the bar, and he was gone; I went into the back premises; he came out from an outhouse, and I gave him into custody—Keene was taken some time afterwards at Gloucester.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. You say you took down the name from Keene as Jerrard; allow me to look at your memorandum? A. It is in pencil (producing it)—I have not rubbed it out, it is as it was originally entered—I believe the 50l. was paid to me on 26th Aug.—Jerrard paid it to me himself—I had then sent in ten sacks of flour, ten quarters of oats, and fifty sacks of flour—that amounted to about 113l.—the goods had been sold to him on credit, on the representation of Mr. Keene that he was a man of property—these were cash transactions—I was to be paid within three or four days after the delivery, or as soon as Mr. Jerrard could come down to pay for them—there was not to be a month's credit, it was to be within three or four days—I had known Mr. Keene about two years on the corn exchange—I had paid him money for some empty sacks—he has never sold for me on the corn market, nor bought of me for others—I knew him as representing the house of Avex and Terry—I had no dealings with that house—I did not refuse to supply them—I know a Mr. Franklyn—he is not a witness that I am aware of—I do not know what evidence he can give on this subject—I think I saw a written examination of his, but I do not remember seeing him in the witness box—I did not know him till after I heard of Jerrard being in gaol—he has been assisting me in making inquiries in this matter—he introduced me to a solicitor to conduct the business for me—until this Saturday he was a stranger to me—I never asked him to lend his carriage to convey the witnesses backwards and forwards, but I believe he has voluntarily assisted a
great deal with the police and me—I think I once rode home with him myself—I never gave Keene any cards; but he had some from my house one day, in my absence—I never told him to get them, and never intended him to have them—it did not occur to me to give my cards to him—Mrs. Pinnock has employed him to purchace vegetables in Covent-garden—I only know of once—she is not here—I hear that he charged as much again as he paid.
MR. PARRY. Q. You do not know whether he charged commission for the vegetables or not? A. I do not; I have seen Franklyn here—the amount I am actually out of pocket is 111l. 12s. 6d.
MR. PARRY. Q. When the 50l. was paid to you, Jerrard was to come on the following Monday, and pay the balance? A. Yes; it was the Saturday before that Monday that I found him in Horsemonger-lane gaol—there had been other goods delivered in the meanwhile—at the time the 50l. was paid on account there was about 113l. due, and after that I supplied goods to the amount of 50l. or 60l.—I supplied him altogether with 108l. or 109l. worth of goods—Jerrard told me that the amount he was arrested for was 40l.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know this baker's shop, occupied by Jerrard? A. Yes; my brother-in-law had occupied it for seventeen years—I did not know Jerrard before he came there—I did not threaten that I would get him out by some means or other; why should I?—he has served me with a copy of a writ—he has not charged me with slandering him—he came to know if I would serve him and trust him—I said certainly not, after what I had heard from the police—I summoned him for violent threats—I do not know that I have been very active in this matter—I have made my neighbours acquainted with what they were—I have taken the witnesses up to the police-court in my carriage—I have brought my neighbours here; they are witnesses; I brought them in company with myself—I introduced Mr. Pinnock to the attorney—I have been with the police to show where the goods were taken—my brother left the shop because he sold the business—there was no annoyance on my part towards Mr. Jarrett—he did not sell the business to Mr. Jarrett, but to Mr. Anderson, the late proprietor.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You say Keene asked you whether you would serve him? A. No; Jarrett asked me whether I would serve the baker's shop—I said certainly not, after what I had heard from the police—he came to me on 30th Aug.—I told him I was not aware whether he was one, but I had received information that fourteen of the party were arrant swindlers, and I should not serve them—I looked at him, and said it was very possible he might be one of them, for what I knew—he said then that he was the identical person who kept the shop—I then said, "If you will wait a few minutes I will make things comfortable for you, for you are wanted"—I went to the door with the intention of calling a policeman, and giving him in charge, but he went out, making use of the most dreadful and violent language—it was most horrid; and Keene, who was with him, made use of the most violent threats—they afterwards came, and wanted me to give them 30l. to settle a writ—I told them there was nothing green about me, I did not do things in that way.
in Mr. Pin nock's employ. I took 100 sacks of oats to Jarrett's house in Southampton-street, Camberwell—I cannot tell the date (the order being produced, teas dated Aug. 31st)—I put the oats in a shed in the premises occupied by Jarrett, a little distance from the shop—I saw Jarrett and asked him where to put them, and I put them by his direction into the shed—two or three days afterwards, I took a load and a half of hay there; he was not there then, and from something I heard from a gentleman who was passing I was induced to tell my master.
JOSEPH TREVELYAN . I live in New Cut, Lambeth, and am in the employ of Mr. Saunders, a carman, of 21, Webber-street, Blackfriars. On 25th Aug., twenty-five sacks of flour were delivered to me by Mr. Pinnock at the Great Western Railway Station, and I gave him a duplicate order which Mr. Jerrard had given me—I had not known him before—I call him Jerrard, because that name was on the ticket—the prisoner Jarrett is the man—I bad a young chap with me—we proceeded down the Edge ware-road, and when we got to Victoria-street, we saw Jerrard—he called as into a public house, and gave us some bread and cheese and beer; he said Mr. Keene would be there in a minute—Keene came, and they told us to follow them down Victoria-street; we did so, and followed them all the way into the Borough-road—Keene then stepped round the corner and Jarrett stopped with us—Keene came back, and said, "It is all right, come on"—we went on to Mr. Nicholls's shop at the corner of Great Union-street, and delivered the flour there; Jarrett was there, walking on the other side of the way, he paid me 10s.—I know Harriet-place, Camberwell, Nicholls's shop is about a mile, or a mile and a half from there—Jarrett and Keene hired my master's cart—I saw it done.
JAMES SMITH . I live at 22, Devonshire-place, Lisson-grove, and am in the employ of Mr. Pope, a carman. On 24th Aug., I carted some flour from the Great Western Railway—Jarrett and Keene went into my master's parlour and wrote the order, while I got my horses ready—there were twenty-five sacks—I took them to Mr. Pope's shop in Exeter-street first, and found the prisoners there; they told me to follow them, and by their direction I went over Waterloo-bridge; they went in front of the horses—we stopped at a public house on the other side, where the prisoners gave us some bread and cheese and beer—I then continued to follow them; we took a great many turnings, and at last got to Lock's fields, where I delivered the flour at a shop with the name of "Nicholls" over it—the prisoners helped me with it, and it was put into a back shed—there was a young man with me—we all stopped to have something to drink—I was attending to my horses, and one of the prisoners told me to go on farther.
HENRY GREATOREX . I live at 9, Southampton-place, Camberwell, next door to where the prisoner Jarrett opened a shop about the beginning of Aug. On or about 9th Aug. I saw ten sacks delivered at the shop, and on Friday, 13th Aug., the ten sacks were taken away between 5 and 6 o'clock in the morning—Mr. Keene was present, but I did not notice who else—I noticed the shop during the whole time it remained open—I do not think the oven was lighted more than twice—I recollect seeing some thirty quarters of corn or oats delivered early in Sept.—I rather think it was Thursday, from Mr. Pinnock's van, it was a large van-full, I suppose about fifty or sixty sacks—two sacks go to a quarter—they did not remain long, they were taken away on 7th Sept. by Mr. Brown's van, the prisoners were present—I cannot say whether they were delivered in Sept., or on the last day of Aug.—I also saw two sacks of flour taken away in a barrow.
COURT to MR. PINNOCK. Q. You said that after the 50l. was paid, you supplied other goods? A. Yes; fifty quarters of oats—there were two deliveries on the same day, that was on 30th Aug.
THOMAS TERRY . I am a provision merchant, and live at 11, Cottageplace, City-road. I was a partner in the house of Avex and Terry—I know Keene—he was in our service as traveller in Sep. 1851—while he was in our service Jarrett called and gave me an order for five sacks of flour—the amount was 7l. or 8l.—we never got our money for it, and Keene knew that; I instructed him to go and make inquiries about it—I also made inquiries myself, and told Keene I had made inquiries, and was afraid we should not get our money, for I was informed that he was a swindler—Keene told me that a load of flour had been left, and taken away in a day or two in consequence of the parties finding that they were not likely to be paid for it.
WILLIAM BROWN . I live at St. James'-place, Old Kent-road, and am a corn dealer. I know Keene—about the middle of Aug. he came to my shop and left Jarrett at Mr. Pugh's, the Rising Sun public-house—he said a friend of his had got some oats for sale, and if I liked to walk over the way he would do some business with me—I could not go then, but I went an hour or two afterwards, and found Jarrett and Keene—they showed me two samples of oats, twenty quarters of each—he wanted to know how much I would give him—he said the forty quarters were worth 40l.—I told him I could not do any business at all with him, my consumption was not sufficient to buy such a lot—I went away, and they came over for me again—I went back and agreed to buy the forty quarters for 31l. 10s., and fetch them away as I could—I had dreadful work to fetch them away—I paid for them as I had them—I fetched three fives, and one ten, and one fifteen—I fetched one five from Jerrard's baker's shop, and one from the stable opposite the Bricklayers' Arms, which is about a quarter of a mile from the shop—I think the name there is Smallwood—I do not know whether that is Nicholls's stable—I know nothing of Nicholls.
COURT to MR. NRYANT. Q. Where was the shed you put the sack of oats into? A. A couple or three hundred yards from Mr. Jerrard's office—I do not know whether the public house opposite is called the Bricklayers' Arms or not, but it is nearly opposite a public house—it is a small stable with a loft over it.
WILLIAM BROWN continued. The place I went to was a stable, with a loft over it—"Pinnock" was the name on the sacks—I found one of them, but not any of the oats—I have about a quarter of them left now—at the time I fetched the fifteen quarters of oats, I gave a receipt—I bought nine bundles of hay of Jerrard—I told Mr. Pinnock I had the sacks—I saw Keene three times out of five, when I fetched the oats—if it had not been for him I should not have bought them.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not you in the first instance offer Mr. Jarrett 14s. for these oats, and did not he refuse it? A. I offered him 18s. for twenty quarters in the first instance, which he declined to take—it was perhaps an hour afterwards that I was sent for again to Mr. Pugh's public house—I think I paid 15s. for the nine trusses of hay.
HENRY COOK . I live at 87, St. George's-road, Southwark—it was a beer shop, but is not now—either on 1st or 3rd Aug. I went to Jerrard's shop in Southampton-street, and found him and Keene there—I went to ask Jerrard for some money—he owed me 10l., besides other sundries which made it 15l.—I asked him for the money in Keene's presence—he said he had not a shilling—I asked him several times about letting me have a trifle, and he
said he had not 1s. if it was to save his life, and many expressions of that sort—I received 1s. of him at one time, he borrowed that of Keene—I saw Keene the evening after that; he said he bad no idea that Jerrard was such a rogue as he was, and that it was a shame to rob a poor man like me, he ought to rob persons who could afford it.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you in service? A. No; I am living in the house, which is going to be altered to another business.
WILLIAM VALE . I live at 9, Holland-place, North Brixton. This baker's shop belongs to me and other members of my family—I let it to Jarrett between Midsummer and Michaelmas at 30l. a year—he has paid me nothing—I have paid him 1l. 5s. upon a request of his in a letter which he sent me, and to get possession of the keys.
Cross-examined. Q. Were there fixtures which were left with you? A. They were left on the premises—Jerrard occupied it about two months.
WILLIAM WOODWARD . I am a flour agent, of 1, Surrey-square, Old Kent-road. I know the prisoners—on 6th Aug. I sold five sacks of flour to Jerrard, by Keene's recommendation, that has never been paid for—I have applied to Jerrard for the money, but not in Keene's presence—his answer was, "I will pay your master, not you"—I applied to him, and he said, "If you apply to me again, I will knock your head off your shoulders."
GEORGE QUINNEAR (police-sergeant, P 1). On 16th Oct. I apprehended Keene, at Gloucester—he was in bed—I said, "Keene, I want you;" he said, "What might your business be?" I said, "Keene, get up, get out of bed, I want you; how is it you are here in the name of Wright?"—he asked me my business—I said I belonged to the police, and came down from London to take him into custody—I said, "I want you for being concerned with a man named Jerrard, who is in custody, for obtaining flour, oats, and hay from a Mr. Pinnock, a corn-factor, to the value of 120l."—he said, "Jerrard is a great swindler, and I wish I had never seen him"—I told him I had been given to understand that twenty-five sacks of flour were delivered at a baker's shop in Lock's-fields by him and Jerrard—he made no reply—I said, "I am also informed that you and Jerrard sold thirty quarters of oats to Mr. Brown, a corn-dealer in the Kent-road, for 5s. or 6s. less than was agreed to be paid for them"—he asked me if he was obliged to answer those questions; I said, "No, but anything you do say will probably be used in evidence against you"—I had known Jerrard previously, and had been in the habit of seeing the prisoners together—I know the baker's shop started by Jerrard; it appeared to me to be under repair.
JERRARD— GUILTY . Aged 36.
Confined Eighteen Months.
(Sergeant Quinnear deposed to the prisoners being the associates of notorious swindlers, and that Keene had just started on a similar plan at Gloucester).
(Jerrard was again tried upon another indictment. See New Court, Wednesday.)
NEW COURT.—Monday, Nov. 22nd, 1852.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. FAREBROTHER; Mr. Ald. SIDNEY; and Mr. COMMON
Before Mr. Common Serjeant, and the Fifth Jury.
Mary Ann Cronin—I saw her married to the prisoner at Shoreditch Church on 21st June, 1846—I knew both her and the prisoner—I saw her in Sept. last at Marlborough-street office; that was the last time I saw her—I know that they lived together after they were married—I cannot tell how long—she came to me with a little baby.
Cross-examined by MR. COCKLE. Q. Do you happen to know that she left him very shortly after the marriage? A. No; I saw them together after they were married—I do not know that she left him, and went to live with somebody else—I knew the prisoner before they were married—he came to my house to see her while he was courting.
Cross-examined. Q. Where were you married? A. At Christ Church, Peckham; I lived with him some time afterwards—I did not know at the time I married him that he had been married before—I did not live with him before I married him—I had been living in London six or seven months before—I was ill part of that time—I was attended by a Mr. Flaharty—I had worked with the prisoner before I married him, but I did not live with him—I did not represent myself as his wife, nor did he represent that I was—I was not attended by any other medical man—I cannot exactly tell when I first heard that the prisoner had a wife—I was not considerably in debt previous to my marriage—the prisoner did not pay some of my liabilities—this bill (looking at one) is for the prisoner's illness; I saw Mr. Flaharty hand it in.
WILLIAM GODFERY (police-serjeant, C 5). I apprehended the prisoner. The last witness was with me—I told him he must go with me to Vine-street station—he asked if it was for her maintenance—I told him no—I obtained these two certificates from the churches—I compared them with the registers; they are correct copies.
GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Five Months.
4. JAMES JOSEPH BALDWIN , feloniously receiving goods; the property of the Eastern Counties Railway Company, well knowing them to be stolen: upon which MR. BALLANTINE offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY .* Aged 14.— Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY . Aged 18.— Transported for Seven Years.
CHARLES EARL . I am master of a vessel called the Mary Ann Jane. On 2nd Nov. I was on Tower-hill, about 2 o'clock in the morning—the two prisoners met me—I did not stop and talk to them—they turned round and walked by the side of me—I went into George-street—when I was there two men passed me, and passed back again—the prisoners were at that time by
my side—one of the men collared me at the back of my neck, and during the time he was pulling me back Kirwin snatched my watch out of my pocket on my right side, and broke the chain—the other man was behind me—Wernham was on my left—she laid her hand on my left shoulder—I fell backwards to the ground—I had a guard to my watch, which was left round my neck—the prisoners ran away—as soon as I got the man's hand clear from my neck, I shouted "Police!"—the men ran off another way—I ran after the prisoners, and caught them both when I had run about twenty yards—a police-man came, and I charged them with stealing my watch—they both said they had not—I told the policeman where this begun, and said if they had not got the key it was lying on the ground there—after the prisoners were taken to the station I went back with the policeman, and found the watch where I had seized the two prisoners—I had not lost sight of them at all—this is my watch—the chain was broken, and the guard remained round my neck.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. What had you been doing all that night? A. I had a drink of ale at Mr. Dyne's—I came out of his house at half past 12 o'clock, and went into the next house, where there was a raffle for a handkerchief—the two public-houses were next door to each other—I had something to drink at each of them—I could see very plainly when I came out of the second house—I staid in that house about an hour and a half—I had some half-and-half there, and some half-and-half at the other house—I did not drink a good deal of it—I went to the first public-house about 7—I did not drink a great deal in the seven hours—I go and sit three or four hours over a pint of ale—I was smoking a pipe—I drank about three pints of half-and-half—Wernham did not assist in taking my watch; she laid her hand on my shoulder—I should say I walked about fifty yards with the prisoners—the men came up in six or eight minutes after the prisoners spoke to me—it might not have been that some other woman took my watch, and I accused the prisoners—I heard one of the prisoners say that they heard the cry of "Police!" and they came up, and I accused them—no person could have got my watch whom I missed—I never lost sight of the prisoners at all; not when I was on the ground.
WILLIAM SMALLWOOD (policeman, H 58). On 2nd Nov., about two o'clock in the morning, I saw the prisoners, the prosecutor, and two men—they turned out of the Minories towards Trinity-square—I passed them, and went down another street—I heard a cry of "Police!"—I went up, and found the prosecutor had just caught hold of the two prisoners—he said they had robbed him of his watch—he took me about twenty yards from where he stopped the prisoners, and I found the watch key—I took the prisoners to the station, and went back and found this watch in the mud, near where the prosecutor stopped the prisoners—Kirwin said, "We heard the cry of 'Police!' and ran up; we know nothing about it"
Cross-examined. Q. Where was it you first saw the men? A. When they turned out of the Minories—I did not stop them, for they had not done anything then—after I heard the cry of "Police!" I saw the men running towards Tower-hill, away from me—I had the two prisoners at that time—the prosecutor complained of some men having interfered with him—he seemed perfectly sober.
(Kirwin was further charged with having been before convicted.)
GEORGE MUMFORD (policeman, K 207). I produce a certificate of Kirwin's former conviction at Clerkenwell—(read—Convicted, Oct., 1850, of stealing money from the person. Confined Six Months)—I was present—she is the person.
KIRWIN— GUILTY . Aged 27. Transported for Seven Years.
WERNHAM— GUILTY . Aged 25. Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY. Aged 24.—Recommended to mercy. — Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, November 23rd, 1852.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. FAREBROTHER; Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Second Jury.
10. HENRY HEASMAN , feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for 3l. 16s. 6 1/2 d., with intent to defraud; also, embezzling 1l. 12s. 6d., and 5l.; also, embezzling 560l.; also, embezzling 5l.; the moneys of Joseph Frederick Capps, his master: to all which he pleaded
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY QUARE ALGER . I am an innkeeper and farmer, of Waltham Abbey, Essex. On 21st Oct., I sent my servant Charles Eve, with a load and a half of wheat straw; he was to take it to Smithfield, or dispose of it on the road, if he could make a fair price for it, according to the market price—it was worth 27s. per load; 20s. in the market—it was worth about 2l. altogether.
Cross-examined by MR. BIRNIE. Q. Had he been in your employ some time? A. About two months.
CHARLES EVE . I am in Mr. Alger's employ. On Thursday, 21st Oct., about 4 o'clock in the morning, I left my master's house with a load of straw—I was to take it to Smithfield, or sell it going along, if I could get a fair price for it—I met the two prisoners in Old-street; Tavener came up first,—he asked me if I would sell my straw, and said he would give me 25s. a load for it—I told him I could not take less than 27s.—he said a man named Hobbs authorized him to buy a ton of straw, that it appeared to him just as it had come from the barn door, and he was quite sure Hobbs would have it—I had a ton in my cart; fifty-four trusses—Smart was following the cart, which was still going on—Tavener said to me, "Come down here;" that was down Tabernacle-row—we went down there with Smart and the cart—I was by the side of my horses—the prisoners turned up a gateway, where there were folding doors; they came back and said, "Hobbs does not live here, he lives down lower"—when we had got a little further on, Tavener said, "Stop here;" that was still in Tabernacle-row—he said, "He lives just up the street here, leave the horses here"—I called a boy to hold my horses, and told him I would give him a penny—Tavener said Hobbs lived just up the street, and I could go up there with him, and see Hobbs myself—I went with him up a street, which leads out of Tabernacle-row into the City-road—he said, "Don't give any more boys a penny, Smart will stand by the horses"—Smart remained by the cart beside the boy—when we got to the top of the street I said, "Where does he live?"—he said, "A little further"—I said, "I shall not go further away from my horses"—he said if I waited five or ten minutes he would fetch Hobbs to me—I waited five
minutes, and Tavener came back to me, and told me Hobbs could not take it in, but I was to take it down to bis brothers—he had pot two or three brothers—we went back to the cart, and found it where I had left it, and Smart and the boy with it—I gave the boy a penny, and he went away—I went with the cart into the City-road—the prisoners were both with me—Tavener said, "Leave my mate in charge of the horses, and come along with me; "we left Smart in charge of the horses—he said Hobbs' brother had got charge of some stables over the way, and he would be sure to have it unloaded there, and he would take me and show me where he lived—we went down several streets, and he still kept on the cry, "He lives down here"—I said, "I shall not go any further—(I had then been with them about an hour and a half altogether, but about twenty minutes from the second stoppage)—I waited about a quarter of an hour—Hobbs's brother did not come, nor Tavener—I went back, and found that Smart was gone, and the cart and horses also—next morning I found the horses and cart at the Green-yard, King David-lane, Shadwell, a good way from where I left them; the police showed them to me there—I went to the house in Featherstone-street, Mr. Hobbs's, the house Tavener went into first, and found Mr. Hobbs there—Tavener had told me, when he came out from there, that Mr. Hobbs had authorized him to buy the straw.
Cross-examined. Q. You had never seen the prisoners before? A. Never, to my knowledge; I have been about a year in Mr. Alger's employ—I never left my cart in the street before, in charge of persons I had never seen—I am not accustomed to take property into London—I stopped in London all that night—I did not return to the country, as I was trying to find the horses and cart—I saw a policeman, and told him my loss—I remember being near a woman who sells water-cresses; I asked her about my cart—I did not leave it in her care, because she was not going to stop above a minute or two—she was not treated to any gin; I did not see her drink any—Smart was not behind the cart the whole time; he said nothing about the purchase of the hay; he said he would take careof my horses.
MR. PAYNE. Q. Did the prisoners go anywhere together? A. Only up the yard in Tabernacle-row—I was standing by the cart then—I missed my cart about 10 o'clock.
GEORGE HOBBS . I am a licensed victualler, of Featherstone-street, City-road. I did not authorize Tavener to buy any straw for me—I have no brother living nearer to London than Wilsden—I fancy I have seen Tavener in my skittle ground, but cannot swear positively.
WILLIAM SPINKS (police sergeant). I am stationed at Cheshunt, near Waltham Abbey—I know the prisoner Smart—he lives in that neighbourhood—I had a warrant against him for an assault, and on 21st Oct. about two o'clock I took him into custody, in Chiswell-street, City-road—Tavener was with him—I took Smart to Cheshunt—I afterwards took Eve down—he saw him in Hertford Gaol, and selected him out of eight other persons—I knew Tavener before—he comes from that part of the country.
MR. PAYNE. Q. How far do the prisoners live from the prosecutor's? A. About five miles.
EDWARD COOK (policeman, N 96). In consequence of information I took Tavener, on 25th Oct., in the house of Smart's father, on Cheshunt-common—Smart was at that time in Hertford Gaol—I have seen him at that house—I told Tavener what I took him for—he said he knew nothing about it—he was brought out alone for Eve to see, and he recognized him, and when he went back to his cell he said to himself, "I am done now."
THOMAS BILTON JONES (policeman, K 131). On 21st Oct, I was on duty between 1 and 2 o'clock, in the Commercial-road, Ratcliffe, and found a cart drawn by two horses—nobody was with it—there was no straw in it, only a tarpaulin and some ropes—I stood by it for an hour, and then took it to the Green-yard—the address on it was "Henry Quare Algar, Waltham Abbey."
TAVENER— GUILTY .** Aged 19.
SMART— GUILTY .*† Aged 19.
Confined Twelve Months.
(There was another indictment against the prisoner Tavener.)
12. JAMES YOUNG , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of George Lound Cornish, and stealing therein 1 sheet, value 2s., and other articles, value 6s. 8d.; his property: to which he pleaded
GUILTY to the Larceny only. Aged 19.— Confined Six Months.
MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES PEACHEY . I am a pawnbroker, and live in Goswell-street. I have carried on business there thirty years—the prisoner was in my service—he has been so full a twelve month—he left me for a period of two months, and returned to me—before he came to me he lived with Mr. Sowerby, a pawn-broker of Chiswell-street—he was acting as my foreman in Oct. last—I left town on 15th Oct., and left the prisoner in charge of my property and business—I returned in the evening of 26th Oct.—a person named Finch was in my employment—in consequence of something I discovered with respect to the accounts, I looked about me to see how things had been going on in my absence—on 28th Oct. I found some duplicates on the counter—they related to books that had been in pledge, and were out of time—the books are here (produced)—these are a portion of them—there were several parcels, some containing twelve or fourteen, but they had been all mixed together—when I left town those books were upstairs in the warehouse, packed in parcels; when I returned they had been opened—I found five books deficient—one of the duplicates was for a Bible, and a case of drawing instruments—I inquired for that Bible, and searched for it—I did not find it—the duplicates were my own, used in my own business—duplicates are generally affixed to the bundles in which the things they relate to are contained—I was told that some volumes of the "History of William IV." were missing—I do not know it of my own knowledge, I only learned it by inquiry—on comparing the duplicates with the bundles, I found out that five books were deficient—we do not particularize the articles in the duplicates, except in this case the Bible was named—we say "two, three, or six books;" or "one book"—I came to town on the 26th, and on the 29th I spoke to the prisoner about this—I called his attention to this parcel of duplicates—I do not think I showed them to him; I said, "There are some books missing, and here are a lot of duplicates, and I understand there was a Bible and a "Life of William IV.;" I don't see them"—he immediately went and brought a small Bible, and opened it, and found a mark in it which showed that it was not the one, and he said, "Oh! that is not it;" but he said, "I know nothing about them"—I said, "Here are also some numbers, parts of a Bible, that ought to be here; I don't see them"—I cannoti recollect that he made any reply to that—I then gave him into Inspector Brannan's custody—I afterwards went with Brannan to the prisoner's lodging—my young man then pointed out some books—the prisoner was not present—they were the books which I had mentioned to the prisoner, and which he said he knew nothing about—they were a
Bible, two volumes of the "Life of William IV.," and the "Tourist in Italy, by Roscoe," which had a mark on it, I believe in my own handwriting—I believe that was one of the books forming a part of these—he had no right or authority to take those books to his lodging—I remember examining my cashbox on the 29th; Finch stood by the side of me, it was a few minutes before dinner, we dine about half-past 1 o'clock; there was 7l. 10s., or 8l. 10s. in it in gold—I am sure there was 7l. 10s.—the prisoner had gone out at that time—that was after I had spoken to him about the things—he came in while we were at dinner—he dines with myself and family—he came in I suppose, a little before 2—he came and sat down at dinner—Finch dines after him—after the prisoner had bad his dinner, he went out—I did not see him go out—I did not afterwards examine my cashbox, but I was told there was no cash in it—I believe Brannan came to the house between 2 and 3—the prisoner came in while Brannan was there—I went down immediately I heard he had come in, and told him I wanted to speak with him upstairs—I then stated generally, the circumstances of the accounts—I then said to him, "About this gold watch; you ought not to have taken it"—I had asked him about that gold watch in the morning, having found it had not been delivered—I said, "How is it about that gold watch, that you have not given it?"—he said, "Oh! I have taken it home to try, and I have left it at home"—I said, "Well, bring it tomorrow, you should not have taken it home, there was no need"—in the afternoon I said to him, "You had no right to take that watch"—he replied, pulling it out of his pocket, "Oh I here it is"—he said he had been home for it—I then said, "There are these books, and the numbers?"—he said, "Oh! I suppose I must pay for the Bibles; some of them were in numbers"—I made no remark—I have since seen the watch—I have also seen another watch; they are both mine—before I left home, I left a gold lever watch in' the window—I did not miss it till about ten days after the prisoner had been in custody—that was the watch that Brannan took from the prisoner on searching him—I saw it taken from him, it had an Albert chain with it—there were two watches taken from him—one he produced, and one Brannan took from him—I had no suspicion that the watch he was wearing was my own—I have since examined it and find it is mine, I have no doubt at all about it—that is the watch with the Albert chain; the second watch was found on bim immediately on his being taken into custody, but I did not examine it then—Brannan has since produced it to me, and I identified it—the desks I had never seen.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Do you speak to any of these articles of your own knowledge? A. In reference to the books, I do not; I speak to the watch, that was in the window, of my own knowledge—I know it by the name, and it has been so frequently through my hands that it is perfectly familiar to me—there cannot be a shadow, of a mistake about it—I value the watches at about 12l. each—these are them (produced)—I cannot speak to the books; I never saw them till I saw them at the prisoner's lodging—this watch has a remarkable scratch upon the dial, by which I know it also—it was not in pawn, it was in the window for sale—the other watch I had had in my hands only a few hours before I left town, having given it into his charge to deliver to a party.
JOHN FINCH . I am in the employ of Mr. Peachey, and was so during his absence from town from 15th to 25th Oct I saw these duplicates on the counter—they relate to things out of time—they were lying on the counter for about two days—here are five duplicates, one is for forty-nine numbers of books, two for two writing desks, one for a book and case of instruments, and
one for two vases—I saw these duplicates on the counter at different times during my master's absence—I saw the articles they relate to on the counter—the prisoner had them—on Mr. Peachey coming home I gave him information—I remember his counting the money in the cash box about 2 o'clock on 29th Oct.—I was by the side of him at the time; the prisoner was out—there was 7l. 10s. in the box in gold—when the prisoner came home I went up to have my dinner—the prisoner remained in the shop while I went—no one was then behind the counter but himself—the cash box was not locked, it was kept open—after I had had my dinner the prisoner went out—after he was gone I went to the cash box; the 7l. 10s. was not there, nor any money at all—there was nobody but the prisoner who could have got to the cash box while I was at dinner.
JAMES BRANNAN (police-inspector G). I went to Mr. Peachey's on 29th Oct. I saw the prisoner come home in a cab, about half past 5 o'clock—Mr. Peachey called him into a private room where I was—Mr. Peachey asked him to render an account of the deficiencies in his goods—the prisoner said, "If you don't like me, Mr. Sowerby will take me"—Mr. Peachey then said, "About the gold watch belonging to one of the customers?"—"Oh!" he said, "here it is,"pulling it out from his waistcoat pocket and placing it on the table—he afterwards said, "I have been home to get it"—Mr. Peachey then said, "There are some books and numbers of Bibles missing"—he said, "Oh, yes! I took them; I left them to be bound; I suppose I must pay you for them"—Mr. Peachey said, "But you took them without my authority"—he said, "I will pay you for the numbers; they are at a little stationer's shop, in Old-street, to be bound"—Mr. Peachey said, "Am I not going to have any further explanation about the deficiencies?"—the prisoner said, "Mr. Peachey, if you don't like me, Mr. Sowerby will take me; he gave me that ring," alluding to one he had on his finger, which J now produce—Mr. Peachey then left the room to go for some books, and while he was absent the prisoner said to me, "Do you think they will find me guilty?"—I said, "I really don't know"—I then took possession of the watch which he placed on the table, which I produce—I then took him to the station and searched him—I found on him the watch with the Albert chain and the ring—the watch is gold—he said, "Is it necessary to take that from me, as it is mine?"—I said, "I must take all"—I found on him a duplicate of a watch pledged that same day at Mr. Vaughan's, in Oxford-street, which I also produce—I afterwards went with Mr. Peachey and his young man to the address given by the prisoner in Duke-street, Oxford-street—I found the name of Whitaker on the door, as he told me I should—in the one pair back room in that house I found four printed books, which I now produce, namely, a Bible, two volumes of "William IV.," and "The Tourist in Italy," also two desks and two vases—I saw other property there which I did not then take possession of, but I did afterwards—on the evening of 3rd Nov. I accompanied Mr. Peachey again to the prisoner's lodging—I took a tea poy, a tea tray, and two scent bottles—from information I received there, I proceeded to 71, Murray-street, Hoxton, where I took possession of two dressing cases, which I also produce; I got them from a person named Billings there—on the morning of 30th Oct., while going to the police-court, the prisoner asked me whether I had seen Mrs. Whitaker that morning—I said, "No; but I saw her last night"—he said, "Then you have been at my place?"—I said, "Yes"—"Splendidly furnished, is it not?" he said—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Did you see the tea poy?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I bought that and a dressing case for Mrs. Whitaker, and one for myself, within this
last few days"—I said, "Oh!"—he said, "Have you seen Mr. Peachey this morning?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Then of course you don't know whether he has found anything else against me?"—I said, "No"—he said, "I will make him pay for this; I will enter an action against him, and get swinging damages; I am going in business for myself very shortly"—I found the numbers of the Bible at Mrs. Moriey's, a stationer, in Old-street—I showed the watch and Albert chain, which I took from the prisoner, to Mr. Peachey; he identified them.
JOHN FINCH re-examined. I know these things which Brennan has produced; these were the things that I saw the prisoner have on the counter during my master's absence from town—I know these two desks and these vases; they are Mr. Peachey's.
WILLIAM PETO . I am in the employ of Mr. Vaughan, a pawnbroker, of 163, Ox ford-street. On 25th Oct. the prisoner pledged with me two gold watches for 10l.—this (produced) is one of them—on the 29th the prisoner came again, and separated the two watches—he left one for 3l., and redeemed the other, and took it away—he paid 7l. in gold for it—I made out a fresh duplicate for the watch he left—this is the one he took away—the duplicate I gave him has been produced by Brannan.
GUILTY . Aged 30.— Confined Eighteen Months.
(There was another indictment against the prisoner,)
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS BURRISON . I am a tailor, of 4, White Rose-court, Coleman-street. On Wednesday morning, 3rd Nov., I was going up that court—I saw two persons standing at the corner—when I had arrived some yards beyond Mr. Willard's premises, I heard some glass drop; I turned round sharply, and saw the figure of a man drop from the door—he went down the court into Coleman-street, and passed the constable; I did not see him go towards the other two men—they had left a second or two previous to that—they went towards Finsbury—he went out of the court the same way as the two men had gone—I saw the policeman not half a second after seeing the man drop from the window—I saw him pass the constable—the constable came to the corner as the man passed him—the constable made an observation to me, and I told him something—I did not point out anybody—he saw some men walking down the street, and he pursued them—I stood at the corner—I could not tell you who the man was that dropped from the door; I could not recognize him.
COURT. Q. In what position did you see him when he came from the window? was it a window over the door? A. Two squares of glass over the top of the door—when I first saw him, he was trying to get through the fanlight; he had his head through—I could only see his legs—that was when I looked back, after I had passed; I could only see the shadow of a man—I saw his legs coming out of a pane of glass—I saw him come backwards and fall into the yard on his feet.
GEORGE DEWDNEY (City policeman, 150). On the morning in question I heard a smash of glass in White Rose-court, as I was coming up Coleman-street; I was within five yards of the court—when I got to the entry of the court I met two men coming out, and a third man just behind,
with his hat off—that third man was the prisoner; he was coming out; he had an umbrella in his hand; it appeared to me that he had just picked it up from the ground—he had his hat in his hand—the two men walked down Coleman-street, and the prisoner followed them—they were all looking back when I came into the street—when they saw me they all three ran—the prisoner ran through the court separately, by himself—last witness made a communication to me, and I followed the three persons; there were no other persons in the street—it was half past 1 o'clock in the morning—I apprehended the prisoner after a long run—I never lost sight of him—he asked me what he had done—I told him there was no need of me telling him that, he knew as well as me—he said, "If I have done anything I will pay for it, rather than be locked up; it will ruin my character, and lose me my situation; it was only an accident through the umbrella"—I had not said anything to him about the window before that—I took him back, and told him I should charge him with breaking the window—he said it was an accident before I said anything about breaking the window—I told him directly that I should take him into custody about breaking the window—he replied that he would rather pay for it than be taken into custody; I was not then aware there had been an attempt at burglary—I did not examine the premises afterwards—I took the prisoner to the station—I afterwards saw Mr. Willard—he came to the station immediately afterwards—the prisoner said at the station that he lived at 25, Ratcliff-highway—he at first said 21, and then 25—I have been there, but no one knew anything of him—he also said there was a register ticket at the Sailors' Home, and he was steward on board a ship—I have made inquiries as to that, but no one there knew him—they examined their book—I found nothing on him—I found some treacle on his shirt, and on the sleeves of his coat—he had a wig on his head; he has it on now.
Prisoner. When the policeman came up to me, he accused me of breaking the window with my umbrella. Witness. I did not say so at first.
EBENEZER KIBBLEWHITE (City policeman). From information I received I went to Mr. Willard's house, at half past 1 o'clock on the morning of 3rd Nov., about ten minutes after the prisoner was given into custody—I found the fanlight of the side door to be smeared with treacle, and it was running down the door as well as round the frame, where the glass had been cut from—the fanlight was rather more than seven feet from the ground—the glass had been removed evidently by some sharp instrument; there was scarcely a bit of glass left in the frame, and you could see none by standing on the ground; but when we got up we could see a little piece at each corner of the bottom of the frame; it was cut as if by a diamond; some sharp instrument must have removed it down to the putty—after the door was opened I found a treacle plaister on the floor, about a foot and a half wide, with some of the glass adhering to it, which I have here now (producing it)—there is glass on it now—just by the handle, against the door, there was a mark of dirt, as though it was road dirt; it appeared to me that a foot of some person had just touched there—that was about half the distance between the door and fanlight—it was just the place likely to receive a foot; it would be the first resting place—I examined the prisoner's dress—I found some treacle quite wet on the front of his shirt—the stain is now visible—the right sleeve of the coat was besmeared with treacle, just about the part where it would be resting on the frame—it is dry now, but it was then wet.
Prisoner. The stain on the shirt is from beer. Witness. I have not the slightest doubt it is treacle; it was examined by three or four others.
HENRY WILLARD . I am a licensed victualler, at 31, Coleman-street; I reside there, and carry on my business there—I went to bed on the night in question about 12 o'clock—the fanlight was then safe—I always examine the house every night before I go to bed—there are three doors to my house opening into White Horse-court, and one into Coleman-street—I saw the treacle on the sides of the doorpost, and on the prisoner's shirt—I have no doubt that it was treacle; I smelt it—I do not know that I examined the coat, but I did the shirt—it was pointed out to me at the station.
GEORGE DEWDNEY (re-examined). The prisoner did not say anything after I took him to the station—he told me several times in going to the station that it was an accident, with his umbrella—when I first took him he asked what was the matter, and I told him he knew without my telling him—he said it was an accident, without my telling him what it was for—he said nothing more after we got to the station, than that it was an accident—he said it was an accident with his umbrella—he said, "There is no need of your taking me down, it was only an accident."
Q. Did he say what was an accident? A. He said he broke it with his umbrella.
Q. Which did he say, that it was an accident, or that he had broken the window with his umbrella? A. He said it was an accident with his umbrella—he did not say he had broken it—I am quite sure of that—he only said it was an accident—I was examined before the Magistrate, and signed my deposition after it was read over to me.
Q. You state there, "He told me at the station house that he had broken the window with his umbrella?" A. He told me so several times—he told me so at the station house, also—he said it was an accident—there is a mistake in the deposition.
Prisoner's Defence. All I know about it is this man accusing me of breaking a window; I am entirely ignorant of it; the officer states that I said if I broke it, it was an accident; I did nothing of the kind; I had the umbrella on my shoulder, walking home very sharp; I said if I have broken a window it is unknown to me, it must have been an accident, having the umbrella on my shoulder.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED CRITTALL (policeman, D 239). On Wednesday, 10th Nov., at half-past 2 o'clock in the morning, I was on duty in the Harrow-road, and saw the prisoner with another man—they were standing talking very loud—they walked on towards Kensal-green—they stopped after a short time, and returned to where I was—they were talking very loud, and I crossed over to where they were—the prisoner asked me the way to Kensal-green—I told him straight up the road as far as be could go, and that they had better go on, as they were making such a noise that they would disturb the inhabitants—the prisoner said, "B—r the inhabitants, and on too"—the other man went on and said to the prisoner, "Come on, mate;" the prisoner followed him towards Kensal-green—I followed seven or eight yards behind them—the other man said, "I think he is an Englishman"—the prisoner said, "D—n and b—r the b—y Englishmen"—they walked on, and I walked behind—the prisoner turned round and said, "You h—r, if you follow me any further I will give you something (or yourself"
—at that time I had nearly got up to them—the prisoner went a step or two forward, turned round, made a rush at me, and struck me on the left side of my cheek—I did not at first feel that I was stabbed—I caught hold of the prisoner, and said, "You stabbed me, you rascal"—he said, "Yes," you b—r, and I will do it again"—the blood poured out of my mouth and down my cheek—the prisoner struck me again—another constable came up—I told him I was stabbed, and he took hold of the prisoner by the collar, and threw him down in the road—I afterwards had my wound dressed—I am still very weak—I have lost a great deal of blood.
JAMES EMERY (policeman, D 257). On 10th Nov. I was on duty in the Harrow-road, and saw Crittall following two men—I heard one of them say, "If you follow me, I will give you something for yourself"—I saw the prisoner turn round and make a rush at Crittall, who said, "I am stabbed"—I secured the prisoner, threw him down, and held him till a third constable came up—he was drunk.
HENRY BULLOCK . I am house surgeon, at St. Mary's Hospital. Crittall was under my care—he had been wounded on the left cheek, underneath the cheek-bone; the instrument had penetrated through the mouth, and had wounded the lip on the other side—it was a very serious wound, but not dangerous, unless erysipelas had intervened—he appeared faint and pale—the wound could have been caused by a knife of this kind (produced).
Prisoner's Defence. I met him in the Harrow-road; I was very drunk; I asked him the way to Kensal-green; he said, "You know the way as well as I do;" Welch laid hold of me by the left arm; Crittall threw me down, and said, "There you are?" he pulled out his rattle and sprung it, and two other policemen came up, lifted me by my neck handkerchief, and knocked me up and down on the ground; I put my hand in my pocket, and pulled my knife out to cut my handkerchief, and the other policeman shoved Crittall on top of me; Crittall said, "This Irishman has stabbed me with a knife;" Welch put his back against the railings, and said, "For goodness sake, don't you kill him;" a third policeman came up, and they brought Welch and me to the station house.
GUILTY on 2nd count. Aged 32.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK GRIFFIN . I live at 11, Mollineux-street, Edgeware-road. I knew Charles Baker, he lived at 17, Mollineux-street—I was there on Friday, 5th Nov.—I am not a relation of the Bakers—Charles Baker had had his dinner, I was sitting in the corner by the window, and he was by the table—William Baker, the prisoner, came in, and Charles said to him, "You have no business to come in at this time, and you shan't have a clean knife and fork;" there was a dinner knife and fork on the table—the prisoner said he should come in at what time he liked, and take what sort of knives and forks he liked—they bad some words with each other, and threatened to tell their
mother—the deceased said he had no business to be playing out with Guy Fawkes—(that was the reason he was late)—the prisoner then sat down at the table to his dinner, and took up the knife and fork; Charles took up the lid of a saucepan and hit the prisoner on the back—I do not know whether it was very hard, it did not seem to hurt him; he did not say or do anything—Charles went towards where he was standing before, and William had the knife in his hand, and threw it at him; it went into Charles's left side and stuck there; it did not fall to the ground, he pulled it out, and gave it to the prisoner, who laid it on the table, and told him he did not mean to do it, but Charles told him he had done it—Charles ran downstairs into the first floor room; clung round a woman's waist, and told her that William had stabbed him—William was about two or three yards and a half from Charles when he threw the knife.
ELIZABETH JOHNSON . I lodge on the first floor, at 17, Mollineux-street. On 5th Nov. the deceased came down into my room, and said, "Mrs. Johnson, Billy has stabbed me"—I said, "Where?" he said, "Here," pointing to his side—the prisoner followed his brother down, stood on the mat at the door, and said, "Yes; oh! Mrs. Johnson, forgive me, I did not mean to do it"—I said, "Run for a doctor," which he did—a doctor came, and the deceased was taken in a cab to the Hospital—I have known the prisoner from a child; he is a very kind-hearted good boy, but very passionate.
HENRY BULLOCK . I am house surgeon, at St. Mary's Hospital. The deceased was admitted there on 5th Nov., about a quarter to 6 o'clock—he was very faint, pale, and almost pulseless—he had a wound, three-quarters of an inch long, between the fifth and sixth ribs, on the left side, about three inches behind the nipple—I cannot say the depth, as it was improper to examine—he died about twenty minutes past 1 on Sunday morning the 7th—I examined his body, the cause of his death was a wound of the left lung and heart, such a wound as this knife (produced) would cause—I found about three pints and a half of blood in the left side of the chest—the cause of death was the bleeding and the wound.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 23rd, 1852.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HOOPER; Mr. Ald. CUBITT, and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Sixth Jury.
GUILTY .* Aged 18.— Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Six Months.
GUILTY . Aged 29.— Confined Six Months.
GUILTY . Aged 37.— Confined Twelve Months.
GUILTY . Aged 35.—See Old Court, Wednesday.
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE SKIDMORE . I am landlord of the Peacock, in Gray's Inn-lane. On 12th Nov. the prisoner cams to my house—he asked for 2d. worth of gin—I served him—he paid me with half a crown—I gave him 2s. 4d. change—I laid the half crown on the side board—the prisoner left in about 10 minutes—I discovered the half crown was bad, in about an hour afterwards—it was then on the sideboard—I gave it to my wife—there was no other half crown on the sideboard.
WILLIAM ORRIS . I am barman to Mr. Skidmore. I know the prisoner. On the 12th Nov. he came to the house, about six in the evening—he called for 2d. worth of gin—he offered in payment a base half crown—I discovered it immediately be put it on the counter—I said, "Where did you get this from?"—he made no answer—I took the half crown and bent it in the detector, and as he did not offer to pay for the gin I took it back from him, and he went away—he came again on the 14th—I recognised him the moment be entered the house—he then offered a bad shilling—I took it from him, and threw it under the bar—I jumped over the counter and took the prisoner—he wanted the shilling back again, and said he would pay for what he had had with good money—I went back to where I left the shilling under the bar, in about five minutes—I found it there—I marked it, and gave it to the officer—I received a half crown from Mrs. Skidmore—I marked it, and gave it to the same officer.
WILLIAM TODMAN (policeman, A 438). I took the prisoner on Sunday, the 14th—I found on him 2s. 6d. in silver, and 6 1/4 d. in copper—I received this half crown, and this shilling from the last witness.
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Six Months.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. ELLIS and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY HORNE (policeman, K 322). I was present in this Court in Feb. last, when Samuel Cole was convicted, on his own confession, for passing bad money—he was sentenced to six months' imprisonment—the prisoner is the person.
JOHN HARMAN . I live in Ivy-place, Hoxton, and am an ironmonger. On 18th Oct., the prisoner came to my shop, about 8 o'clock in the evening g—he asked the price of a thousand half inch tacks—I told him 2 1/2 d.—he looked in his hand, and said he had enough to pay for them—my boy served him—he then asked for another half thousand, and gave a five shilling piece, which was handed to me, and I saw it was bad—I broke it, and asked the prisoner where he got it—he said he did not know—I said, "You have not taken so many 5s. pieces to day, but you know who you took it of"—he said, "I may have had it a fortnight—he then ran off—I pursued him
along two or three streets, and he then sat down—I said, "If you will go quietly to the station with me, all is right"—he got up, and in going be threw something down—I said, "What is that?"—he said, "My halfpence"—I said we would pick them up, which we did—he then threw something again—I said we would pick them up—he said, "Never mind"—he went further, and made another attempt—I said I would have no more of that—I stopped him, and a policeman came and took him.
MARY ANN HAYDEN . I am the wife of William Hayden, a beershop keeper, at Mile-end. On 3rd Nov., about 8 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came for a pint of porter—I served him—he gave me a shilling—I gave him change, and he went away—after he was gone, I looked more particularly at the shilling, and found it was bad—I gave it to my husband—he kept it in his possession till the second one was offered—he gave it me back—I put a mark on it, and gave it to the officer—on Monday, 8th Nov., the prisoner came again—he had half a pint of porter, and half a screw of tobacco—he gave me another shilling—I found it was bad—I bent it in the detector—I told the prisoner he was the man who passed a bad one a few days before—he said he had not been in the house before—he ran away—I am quite sure he is the man who came the first time—my son ran after him, and brought him back—he was given into custody—I gave the last shilling to the officer—I then got the first shilling from my husband, and gave that to the officer.
WILLIAM HAYDEN . I am the husband of the last witness. I remember her giving me a shilling on Wednesday, 3rd—she had it back again; she took it out of my pocket; I was ill in bed—I saw it was the same shilling.
GUILTY .* Aged 25.— Transported for Seven Years.
MESSRS. ELLIS and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM FREETHY . I keep the Bull's Head, in Cross-street, Hatton-garden. On 6th Nov. the prisoner came for half a quartern of gin—I served her; she offered me a shilling; I gave her 10d. change—as she was going out of the door, a customer called to me that that was a bad shilling—it laid on the counter—I found it was bad—I scraped it on the bead, and put it on a shelf—on 10th Nov. the prisoner came again; my wife served her—I was. in the parlour, and saw the prisoner go out—I came to the shilling, which was on the counter, and told my wife to put it on one side—I marked it on the head, and put it on the shelf with the other—on the 13th 1 saw the prisoner again—I saw her give my son a shilling—he put it in the detector, and found it was bad—he was giving it her back, and I put my hand upon it, and said to the prisoner, "This is the third you have uttered"—I sent for an officer, and just as he came the prisoner tendered a 4d.-piece—I gave the three shillings to the officer.
CECILIA FREETHY . I am the wife of the last witness. On 10th Nov. I served a person half a quartern of gin—I could not swear to the person—she gave me a shilling; it was a bad one—I gave her change—my husband was
in the bar parlour; he came out, and saw the person—he said it was the same who had given him a shilling before.
RICHARD WILLIAM FREETHY . I am the son of the last witness. On 13th Nov. the prisoner gave me a shilling; I found it was bad in the detector—I threw it on the counter—my father told me to get an officer, which I did.
WILLIAM JAMES WILLIAMS (policeman, G 102). The prisoner was given into my custody on the 13th—I received these three shillings—the prisoner gave an address; I went to the address, but could not find that she was known there.
Prisoner's Defence. On the Friday I went with 5s. to Leather-lane; I bought some meat; I went to have half a quartern of gin; I gave a shilling, I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
LUCY RANSON . My father keeps the Three Swedish Crowns, in Old Gravel-lane. On 9th Nov. the prisoner came, in company with some other men, and called for some gin—it came to 6d.; the prisoner was to pay 4d. of it—he gave me a shilling—I put it in the detector, and slightly bent it—I found it was bad—I gave it to him; he wrapped it in a piece of leather or rag, and returned it to his pocket—he then paid me 2d., and another man paid me 4d. for the gin.
GEORGE HALLINGTON . I keep the Bull's Head, in Newmarket-street, Wapping. On 9th Nov. the prisoner came to my house with four other men; they called for sixpenny worth of gin—the prisoner paid me with a shilling—I gave him in change a sixpence, and put the shilling in the till—it was not kept separate from other money—they next called for a pot of half and half—there was a squabble who should pay for it, and the prisoner went out—I took the half and half, and put it behind me—the prisoner then came in, and paid for it with another shilling—I put that in the till—the next that was called for was a quartern of gin—the prisoner paid for that with another shilling—I tried that, found it bad, and sent for a policeman—I examined the till, and found one bad shilling: I afterwards found another—I gave them to the policeman.
Prisoner. Q. Did you know the other persons before? A. No; but I think I have seen you.
DIONYSIUS COLLINGRIDGE (policeman, K 280). I took the prisoner—I found one counterfeit shilling in his left hand pocket, and another in his right hand pocket—I found on him six good sixpences, and 7d. in copper—I received this shilling from Mr. Hallington, and these other two from him afterwards.
Prisoner. You found a lock on me? Witness. Yes.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . This shilling which was first given to the officer is bad—these two found on the prisoner are bad, and one of them is from the same mould as the last one uttered by the prisoner—these other two are bad, and one of them is from the same mould as the other two.
Prisoner's Defence. I am a stone mason; my master had no work, and I came to London to buy a shovel, and my master told me to buy him a lock, which I did; the man asked me 10d. for it; I bid him 6d. for it; he
could not take that, and I bought it for 8d.; I gave him a half sovereign; he gave me 9s. 4d. change; I owed a man a shilling down at Wapping; I went to pay him; I saw several country people; I got tipsy; I had beer, and rum, and gin, and after that I did not know what I did, nor where I was, till the next morning, when I found myself locked up.
GUILTY . Aged 52.— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM MOORE . I keep an eating house, in Church-lane, Whitechapel. On 28th Oct. the prisoner came for three quarters of a pound of roast mutton—I am sure she is the person—I served her—it came to 9 1/2 d.—she paid with a 5s. piece—my wife took charge of it—I gave her the change, and she went away—on 1st Nov. she came again for two quarters of a pound of pudding—I served her—she paid with a 5s. piece—I noticed it was bad, but notwithstanding that I gave her change, and let her go out of the shop—I followed her—she went up Colchester-street, turned back, and went towards Whitechapel—she crossed over to Osborne-street, and then a man came up to her, and spoke to her—he then went away—she went on further, and I went up to her, laid hold of her, and said she had passed a bad 5s. piece—I asked her to go back to the shop—in going along she put 4s. 6d. into my hand—I said, "Still you must come back; I think I have another 5s. piece of yours"—a mob came round—she addressed them, and said it was very hard to see a woman dragged along the street in that way—I saw a policeman and gave her into custody—I gave the policeman the last crown, and I applied to my wife for the other crown, and gave him that.
Prisoner. Q. What did you do with the crown? A. I kept it in my hand—I gave you 4s. out of a bag, and I went to the till and took a new sixpence out—I did not place the crown in the till—I served somebody with some pudding, but I kept the crown in my hand; I followed you, and stopped you in Osborne-street—I said you had passed a bad 5s. piece—I did not ask you to give me the difference—I did not say, "Give me the difference, it is all I require"—you tried to go up Wentworth-street, when I accused you of giving me another bad 5s. piece—you did not make any observation to that—I can take my oath that you are the person who came to my shop before—I gave the first 5s. piece to my wife—she put it away in a drawer—I afterwards took it to my butcher's and found it was bad.
MR. BODKIN. Q. When she came the second time did you remember her as the person who passed the first 5s. piece? A. Yes; when I followed her I knew that the second 5s. piece was bad—I believe I did say to her, "It was either you or your sister passed the first one"—after that I took particular notice of the prisoner—I am now prepared, to state that she is the person—I went to the butcher's myself with the first 5s. piece, and I brought it back—it was not out of my sight.
ELIZABETH MOORE . I am the wife of the last witness. On 28th Oct. I saw the prisoner come into the shop—she had some roast mutton—she paid for it with a 5s. piece;—Mr. Moore took it, and gave it to me—I put it apart from other coins, and afterwards gave it to him to go to the butcher's—on 1st Nov. my husband asked me for it, and I gave him the same 5s. piece—I had no other in the house.
Prisoner. Q. How can you swear to me; did you see me? A. I was in the shop and saw you—I put the 5s. piece away, and I afterwards gave it to my husband to go to the butcher's, and he came back with it when it was
found—I can swear it was the one you gave—I had no other—I can swear it was the same that came from the butcher's.
ALFRED ALEXANDER HALL (policeman, H 147). The prisoner was given into my charge for passing a bad 5s. piece—the prosecutor said he had got another bad one that he took of her, the week before—she said she never was in the shop before—he said, "If it was not you it was your sister;" he then said he could swear to her; he could tell her by her curls—these are the two crowns (produced.)
Prisoner's Defence. On 1st Nov. I went to the eating house, and had some pudding; I gave him the 5s. piece; he placed it in the till and turned his back to me, and gave me change from another till; I went away; I was going to Hare-street; he followed me, and accused me of giving him a bad 5s. piece; I said, "A bad 5s. piece) I don't know that I did;" he said, "Give me the difference;" I gave him the change; I held it out in my hand and he took it, and kept it in his band; he then said, "I have another 5s. piece of yours at home; "I said, "Of mine? I never was in your shop before;" he said, "If it was not you it was your sister;" he was dragging me along, and I said, "Don't drag me; it looks ridiculous to see a man drag a woman along;" then he called a policeman and gave me into custody; at the station he said he had another bad 5s. piece, and there he said, "I know it was yon; I can swear to your curls;" but, as it regards the first, I never was in his shop before, and I know that the last one was one that would not bend, for I had tried to bend it.
GUILTY .** Aged 23.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN CLOUGH . I keep a pork shop. The prisoner came on 4th Nov., for a pig's foot—she did not seem to fancy that, and she had a penny saveloy—she paid me with a shilling; I was busy, and gave her eleven pence change—she went away, and after she was gone, I found the shilling was bad—I went after her, but she was gone—I came back and put the shilling in the bowl of the till, where there was no other money—on 6th Nov., the prisoner came again, and wanted a saveloy—she paid for it with a bad shilling—I knew her again, and I said to her, "I have been waiting for you since Thursday night; I have got one shilling of yours, I have it marked in the till; I snail give you in charge"—I said, "Have you got a sixpence?"—she said, "No"—I said, "Have you any halfpence?"—she said, "No"—I came round, and stopped her from going out—I said, "Have you not got some more silver?"—she said, "No"—I found 2s. 6d. good in her hand—I sent for a constable, and gave her in charge—I gave the two shillings that she had uttered to the policeman.
JOHN CUTTING (policeman, B 235). The prisoner was given into my charge—I found 2s. 6d. good money on her in silver, and 9 3/4 d. in copper—I received these two shillings; the prisoner said that the shilling she had then given to Mr. Clough, she had from her husband, who had received it for his wages; and as to the other, she had never been in the shop before.
Prisoners Defence. When I gave him the shilling, he said, "Where did you have this from?" I said, "From my husband, who had it at the pay-table;" I never was in his shop before; he said, "What have you got in your hand?" I said, "Two more;" he took them and found them good; he said, "I will make you pay for all."
GUILTY . Aged 28.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HISLOP . I am a boot-maker, and live in Sykes-terrace, Mileend-road. I remember the prisoner coming for a pair of boots; I do not know the date—he purchased a pair of half-boots—I think 15s. was the price—I know there was some squabbling about the price—he left the shop—my boy was to take the boots with him, and he was to pay the boy—I saw the boy leave the shop and take the boots with him—the prisoner said the boy was to take them to No. 14, Sidney-street, and he was to bring back a pair of boot-legs to be refooted—in about ten minutes after the boy and the prisoner had left, something was told me—I went out of my shop, and saw my boy in Sidney-street—I also saw the prisoner, who was coming from the boy—the boy was going one way, and the prisoner coming from him—I met the prisoner; I asked him where my boy was—he said "Your boy is up there, and I have paid him"—I went after the boy, and the prisoner ran away directly—when I came up to the boy, I found he had some money—I asked him for it, and he gave me four half crowns and five shillings—I ascertained that the four half crowns were bad, and I set them apart from other coins till they were produced at the police office—I saw the prisoner again on 29th Oct., in custody at the station—he was in one of the cells, and there was another man there—I have no doubt that the prisoner is the man—the boots he had on at the station were the boots I had sold him.
Cross-examined by MR. THOMPSON. Q. Did you state to the Magistrate that you knew the prisoner by his boots? A. Yes—the constable took me to the cell—the other man who was there was shorter than the prisoner—he had no resemblance to him—there would have been no chance of my confounding one with the other—I think the original price I asked for the boots was 17s. I will not be certain; it was about 17s. or 18s.—I know there was 15s. brought back to me, but whether there was a sixpence more I will not swear—I know there was a great deal of haggling—the prisoner was in no haste to get away; he seemed desirous to make a good bargain—my shop is a small shop—the boots are hanging in the window in a glass case—it is not rather dark; it is a very light shop—I had never seen the prisoner before that I know of—lie was there altogether half an hour—he had neither a hat nor a cap on his head—he came to do his business with a bare head—he had a coat on—when the boy was gone I had some suspicion, and went after the boy—I saw the prisoner—I stopped and spoke to him—I said, "Where is my boy?" he said, "There he is; I have paid him"—I was then in Sidney-street—I turned, and saw the prisoner run away—he ran down towards Mileend—I ran after the boy, as I knew he would not leave the boots without the money—I then came back to run after the prisoner—he was running as fast as he could—he could run faster than I could—it struck me when he was running that something was wrong—the turning that leads to Mile-end is about forty yards from where I was in Sidney-street—I had not any conversation with the policeman about this case—he asked me if I knew the prisoner; I said yes—I do not know that I told him that I saw the prisoner running away—that question was not put to me before the Magistrate to my knowledge—it was not suggested to roe by the clerk of the Court to say that I wrapped up these coins in a piece of paper—the prisoner had these boots on his feet—I asked for a sight of them, and I can swear that they were mine—when I sold them they were new—the prisoner had worn them, because they had had gutta percha soles put on them—I can swear to a pair of boots that had been worn three months, and had been soled—these are the boots;
I know them by the binding and the cut—I could swear to them before God and man.
GEORGE BRITTON . I was in the service of the last witness. I remember a person coming and buying a pair of boots in July last—the prisoner is the person—after his having bargained with my master, I took the boots to take home with the prisoner to No. 14, Sidney-street—I walked, with the boots in a bag under my arm—there is a baker's shop at the corner of Sidney-street; the prisoner told me to wait on the other side while he went in the baker's shop—he went in, and was in about ten minutes; he then came out and called me over to him—he said, "Here is your change, my boy;" I said, "Thank you, sir"—he gave me four half crowns and five shillings—I gave him the boots out of the bag—he told me to go to No. 14, Sidney-street, and fetch the boot-legs which he had ordered to be footed—I did not go there, for just as I was going to knock at the door I heard some one call me, which turned out to be my master—I do not know what came of the prisoner—when my master called me I turned round—I did not see the prisoner—I gave my master the same four half crowns and five shillings that the prisoner gave me.
Cross-examined. Q. When he gave you the money did he give it you in a bundle? A. No; he put it into my hand—I did not see that he had anything else in his hand—I did not see him putting anything into his pocket when he came out of the shop—I will not swear it was a baker's shop—I will not swear that it was not a grocer's shop—I have not looked at the shop since—I do not know on what day this took place—no one has mentioned the number of the house to me since—I next saw the prisoner about three weeks ago, at the station, in the place where the prisoners are—the prisoner and another man were there—the prisoner was not pointed out to me by the officer—the other man had a longish coat—he was not the man that I ever would have supposed came to my master's—there was no general resemblance between them—I have not been to 14, Sidney-street, since—it never occurred to me to call to see if he lived there—when I saw him the first time he had a long coat on, and black trowsers—he had nothing on his head—I will swear that I did not see 4s. 6d. in his hand when I went across to him—his hand was not closed.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Did you know the prisoner directly you saw him at the station? A. Yes; the boots that I carried were like these.
GUILTY. Aged 34.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. —Confined.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ELLIS conducted the Prosecution.
MARY BUNTER . My husband is a butcher; we live in Lumber-court, Seven-dials. On 5th Nov. the prisoner came, about half past 3 o'clock in the afternoon, for two chops—they came to 8d., with a little bit of steak which was put with them—she gave me a crown piece and two penny pieces, and told me to give her small silver, as she had the crown piece from a gentleman,
and she wanted small change—I gave her 4s. 6d. change, and she went away with it—within three minutes afterwards I looked at the crown piece—I bit it, and found it was bad—I put it in a paper, in my pocket, till I gave it to the policeman—on the 6th the prisoner came, about half past 11 in the morning, for a steak—she gave me a shilling—I tried it, and found it was bad—I sent for the policeman—I told her she was a bad girl to come and give me a bad crown the day before, and then a bad shilling—she said she would give me a good sixpence, which she did—she said she did not know the shilling was bad; it was given her by a gentleman.
HENRY HART (police-sergeant, F 3). On 6th Nov. the prisoner was given into my custody—she said, as she was going to the station, that it was the first time she had been in custody for such an offence, and it should be the last—I produce the crown piece and shilling which I received from the last witness.
Prisoner's Defence. I had it from a gentleman; I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
MARIA PARR . I am barmaid to Mr. Back, in Milk-street. On 9th Nov., between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came to the bar for half a pint of porter—it came to a penny—he paid me in coppers—he then asked me to give him two shillings for four sixpences, which I did—I can swear that the two shillings I gave him were good—he said one of the shillings I gave him was not good—he returned me two shillings, and I gave him the sixpences back—I looked at the two shillings he gave me, and one was bad—I am ready to swear that that was not one which I had given him—he very much abused me, and told me the reason why he wanted the sixpences changed was because he had a small hole in his pocket—I kept the shilling till the constable came, and gave it him.
Cross-examined by MR. DEARSLEY. Q. Where did you get the two shillings that you gave him? A. From the till; we take a great deal of moneys—there is a great deal in the till—other persons take money besides me—when I took the two shillings out of the till I put them down on the counter—I am quite sure I saw the prisoner take them up—I gave him back the four sixpences—he was satisfied, and went away.
MR. ELLIS. Q. When was it you noticed that the shillings you gave him were good? A. When I gave them to him.
HENRY LACY . I am shopman to Mr. Freshwater, a grocer. On 9th Nov. the prisoner came, about 8 o'clock in the evening, for two ounces of tea and half a pound of sugar—they came to 8d.—he gave me a shilling, which I put in the till—I noticed that at that time there was only a half crown in the till—I gave the prisoner 4d. change, and he walked out—the officer came in immediately, and from what he said I examined the till, and the only shilling I found in it was bad—I marked it, and put it on the desk in the shop—I afterwards took it to Bow-lane station.
Cross-examined. Q. How many tills have you in your shop? A. Two; one is about half way down the shop, and the other near the end—I do not know what money was in the other till—it was not after the officer came in that I noticed there was only a half crown in the till; I noticed it when I took the shilling—a young man who had been at that till had just given change, and there was no other money in that till but the half crown.
JOSEPH COMBER KNIGHT (City policeman). I was on duty, and saw the prisoner in a court in the Old Jewry, about two hundred yards from Milk-street—he came out of the court, and went to Mr. Fresh water's shop—he went to the front window in a position where he could see behind the counter—I then saw him take something out of his waistcoat pocket in a small piece of rag, or paper, which I found afterwards to be a rag—he went into the shop with what he took in his hand—I saw that he purchased some trifling thing with what he bad in his hand—he came out, and I immediately went in, and from what passed in the shop I went after the prisoner—I stopped him in Corn hill, and told him I should take him into custody for passing a bad shilling at a grocer's shop in the Poultry—he said, "have certainly been in a grocer's shop, but I am not aware I passed a bad shilling"—I found on him this bag, with some tea and sugar in it, and 2s. 7d. in good money and this small piece of rag—I went to Mr. Back's, and got this other shilling there.
GUILTY . Aged 43.— Confined Six Months.
MR. ELLIS conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK JENKINS . I am barman at the Admiral's Head, in Spitalfields. On 13th Nov. the prisoner came about 6 o'clock in the evening for a pint of porter—it came to 1 1/2 d.—I served her—she gave me a shilling—I gave her change—as she was going out of the door I noticed that the shilling was bad—I bit it, and immediately ran out with it in my hand to try to overtake the prisoner, but I could not, and I put the shilling in my waistcoat pocket—in about twenty-five minutes the prisoner came again for a pint of porter—I knew her when she came in—she offered me another shilling, and I directly found it was bad—I said to her, "This won't do; you are the same woman that came before"—she made a snatch and got the shilling out of my hand, and threw down a 4d. piece, which was good—as soon as she had got the shilling, a young man standing by the counter seized her wrist, and prevented her from making away with it—I came round the counter and took it from her—I sent for the officer, and gave the prisoner and the two shillings to him.
COURT. Q. Had you anything in your waistcoat pocket when you put that shilling in? A. No.
LEVI PORCH (policeman, H 167). The prisoner was given into my custody—I produce the two shillings which I received from the last witness—the prisoner said she lived at 25, Old Montague-street—I inquired, and it was false.
Prisoner's Defence. I never was in his house before in my life; I am afflicted; I went to the market to buy a few things; I did not know the shilling was bad; he said it was bad, and I gave him a 4d.-piece; I sell fish-baskets for my living; I have lived without being suspected all my life; I have two children; one is lying sick, and has no use in one side.
GUILTY . Aged 29.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
—I served her—she had three half-crowns in her hand and three or four shillings—she picked out one half-crown, and gave it roe—I bent it, and told her it was a very bad one—I asked if she knew where she took it—she said she took it at a pawnbroker's, near Vinegar-yard, but she did not know the name or the number—I gave it her back, and she gave me a good one to pay for what she had had—I gave her change, and I advised her to go back to the pawnbroker's, and get the half-crown changed before it was too late—I told my waiter to follow her, and to acquaint the first policeman he met.
THOMAS FOSKETT . I am waiter, at the Wrekin Tavern. I remember the prisoner being there on 28th Oct.—I was told to follow her when she left—she went into Drury-lane, and down a court leading to Bow-street—she went into a public-house at the corner, and called for a pennyworth of something, I do not know what—I went in, and called for a pennyworth of gin—I asked the landlady what the prisoner had given her—she said two halfpence—the prisoner went from there to the Globe Tavern—as she was going she stooped down—I watched her into the Globe—I stood outside a few minutes, and I heard money pass—I went in, and the prisoner was there—I asked the landlady if the money the prisoner had tendered was good—she said that one that she had then was a good one, but she had tendered a bad one just the minute before—I called a constable, and desired him to take the prisoner back to my master, and he gave her in charge.
FRANCES EDMONDS . My husband keeps the Globe Tavern, in Bow-street. The prisoner came there on 28th Oct., about 7 o'clock in the evening—she asked for some gin and peppermint—I served her—she gave me a half-crown—I found it was bad, and gave it her back—she gave me a good one, and I gave her change—the last witness came in and asked what she had given me—I told him she first gave me a bad one, which I gave her back, and she then gave me a good one.
THOMAS STANFORD (police-sergeant, F 20). On 28th Oct., I went to the Globe Tavern—the prisoner was there—I asked her for the half-crown, and she gave it me from her bosom—I asked her if that was the half-crown she had tendered at the Wrekin Tavern, in Broad-court—she said, "Yes"—she gave her address 27, Bloomsbury-street—I went there, but heard nothing of her.
Prisoner. Q. Who did you see at my lodging? A. I saw a gentleman in the shop—he said he knew no such person there—I produce 4s. 2 1/2 d. good, which I received from Green.
Prisoners Defence. He bent it, and in going along I bent it the reverse way, to see if the piece would break off, and it would not; I went to Mrs. Edmonds, who knows me, and she said it was bad, and this man came in directly; I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD HUGHES . I keep a beershop, near Gray's Inn-lane. On 20th Oct. the prisoner came for a bottle of soda water—he had his jacket off, and his shirt sleeves turned up—when he asked for the soda water he said he would bring the bottle back, and take the 2d. by-and-by—he put down a crown piece—I tried it, and found it was bad—I asked him if he bad any
more money—he said, "No"—he could not have the soda water—I asked him where he lived—he refused to tell me—I sent for an officer, and marked the crown, and gave it him.
GEORGE TAIT (policeman, A 404). The last witness gave the prisoner in my charge—he said he was a carpenter, but refused to give his address—he said the crown was given him by the mistress of the house where he lodged to get a bottle of soda water—the prisoner was discharged—this is the crown.
JAMES SAMUELS . I am foreman to Mr. Dupree. On Tuesday night, 9th Nov., the prisoner came between 7 and 8 o'clock—he asked for two five inch glasses—they came to 6d.—he threw me down a crown piece—I took it in my hand, and saw that it was bad—I called one of the men, and said, "Go and get this tested; I am sure it is bad"—before that I had bitten it with my teeth—the man went and tested it, and brought it back—I gave it to the policeman.
Prisoner. Q. Did I attempt to run away? A. No.
WILLIAM SLADE . I am in the employ of Mr. Dupree. The crown piece was given to me on 9th Nov.—I took it, and found it was bad—I took it back to the foreman, and he gave it into the policeman's hand—it was not out of my sight.
Prisoner's Defence. I was a carpenter, but was out of employ; I was obliged to take to selling things, and to associate with a class of persons who are not the most reputable; I was to get these glasses for a young man, a costermonger, to keep his candles from blowing out in the street.
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Six Months.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, Nov. 24th, 1852.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Mr. Baron ALDERSON; Mr. JUSTICE COLERIDGE; Mr. Ald. SIDNEY; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE, and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Mr. Baron Alderson and the Third Jury.
MESSRS. CLARKSON and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD CRONIN , Esq., M.D. I reside at Claremont House, Brixton-road, Surrey. In Oct. last I had an account at Drummonds', the bankers—this check for 16l. 3s. 6d. was drawn by me, before 13th Oct., in favour of the Misses Murray—on 13th Oct., my daughter enclosed that check in a letter addressed to the Misses Murray—about a week or two afterwards, I cannot speak as to the date, I received a communication from Miss Murray, in consequence of which I communicated with the Post Office—this was the only check for that amount that I drew about that time.
MARY ANN CRONIN . I am the daughter of the last witness. On 13th Oct. I received from my father this check—I wrote a note to Miss Murray's, and enclosed the note and check in an adhesive envelope, and addressed it to Miss Murray, Feniton, Devon—I gave it to our servant, Elizabeth Brooks—it was about three o'clock in the afternoon—I am not sure whether it was a few minutes before or after.
ELIZABETH BROOKS . I am in the service of Dr. Cronin. On 13th Oct. last Miss Cronin gave me a letter addressed to Miss Murray to put in the post—I put it into the prisoner's post office, in Claremont-place, Brixton-road—it was about 3 o'clock—our house is five doors from the post office—I went direct there and put it into the box outside—I put it in immediately on receiving it, and in the same state in which I had received it from Miss Cronin.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You say it was about 3 o'clock when you put the letter in; can you say whether it was before or after? A. No; I do not know; I cannot be positive to a few minutes.
WELCOME COLE . I am an inspector of letter carriers in the London District Post Office—the prisoner has been a receiver of post letters in Claremont-place about six months—a letter addressed to Feniton, Devon, posted at the prisoner's post office at a little before 3 o'clock would be dispatched at 3—the collection would be made up at 3, and the man would reach there for it about ten minutes past 3—if the letter was not posted in time for the 3 o'clock collection, it would go at a quarter to 5—it would be forwarded that night—if it was posted before 3, it would reach the General Post Office at half past 4, and if posted at a quarter to 5, it would get to the General Post Office about twenty minutes before 6—in either case it would go by the mail bag, at 8 that night.
MARY ANN MURRAY . I live with my sister at Feniton, in Devonshire. I did not receive a letter from Dr. Cronin, on 14th Oct, containing a check for 16l. 3s. 6d., or any letter of that kind—in consequence of not receiving it, my sister wrote to the General Post Office on the subject.
ROLAND BENJAMIN COLBERG . I am a cashier at Messrs. Drummond's, the bankers at Charing-cross—this check was paid on Wednesday, 13th Oct.—I should say by the entries in my book that it was paid at the after part of the day—our bank closes at 5.
COURT. Q. I suppose you can judge of the time by the quantity of business appearing in your book? A. I can Mr. Bodkin. Q. I suppose you cannot speak at all to the person who presented it? A. Not at all—it was paid over the counter—the person presenting it gave the name of Harrison, and I have written down in my book "Mr. Harrison"—it must therefore have been a man—these two 5l. notes (looking at them) are the notes I paid for that check—I have the numbers here—I paid the rest, 6l. 3s. 6d., in cash.
Cross-examined. Q. The check I conclude was not crossed? A. No; it is the habit of our house to ask the names of persons presenting checks—sometimes the name is refused—we pay it just the same then; we must do so if it is payable to bearer, unless we have a stop on it.
(The two 5l. notes were Nos. 70989, dated 2nd. Sep., 1852, and 26631, dated 3rd. Sept., 1852.)
WILLIAM LOMAS . I am a traveller in the house of Freeman and Sons, wholesale cheese mongers in the Borough—I know Mr. John Dawson, cheese-monger, of Grove-lane, Camberwell—I received this 5l.-note, No. 70989, from him, on the evening of 13th Oct.—I took 20l. of him in two 5l. and one 10l. notes—I also took 20l. of him a month previous—I cannot say on which occasion it was that I took this 5l. note, as I have not the particulars or dates, but I took this note of him, and wrote the name of Dawson upon it.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you know the prisoner, do you not? A. Yes; I have known him five or six years, or it may be longer—I always understood him to bear a respectable character.
JOHN DAWSON . I am a cheesemonger, living at Camberwell. I saw the prisoner on the evening of 13th Oct. last, he came to my house; I live near him—I should say it was between 5 and 6 o'clock when he came, nearer 6 than 5—he was at that time in my debt, he paid me a 5l. note—I cannot say that this is the one, I did not mark it—I put it in my pocket when he paid it me, and directly afterwards I paid it to Mr. Lomas in part payment of the 20l.—I am quite sure that I paid Mr. Lomas the 5l. note that the prisoner gave me—Mr. Lomas came about an hour afterwards.
ANN EVERETT . I am the daughter of the landlady of the Grove-house, Camberwell. I remember seeing the prisoner on the evening of 13th Oct. about 6 o'clock—he purchased a bottle of spirits—he said he was going to Mr. Dawson's—he took the bottle of spirits, and went away—on the following morning he came again, and I gave him change for a 5l. note—this is the note (26631)—I wrote his name and address upon it at the time.
Cross-examined. Q. You know him very well? A. Yes; I know that he was in the habit of coming to Camberwell for orders.
MATTHEW PEAK . I am a constable at the Post Office. I got these two 5l. notes from the Bank on 28th Oct. last. In consequence of what I discovered about the note, No. 70989, I went to the prisoner's house on 29th Oct.—he is a cheesemonger and grocer, in Claremont-place—I do not recollect producing this note to him, but I asked him where he took the 5l. note that he paid to Mr. Dawson, or whether he did so—he said, "Yes, I did pay him a 5l. note, but I cannot say where I got it from"—I requested him to come to the Post Office with me—he did so, and I took him before Mr. Peacock—it was explained to him that this was one of the notes that was obtained for a check for 16l. 3s. 6d., which was enclosed in a letter, posted at his house on the 13th, and he was again asked if he could tell from whom he received it, and he said he could not—at that time I had not been able to find Mr. Lomas—the prisoner was not detained on that occasion—I left him at the Post Office, and proceeded to try and trace out the other note (26631), that is endorsed by Miss Everett "Mr. Harrison, Brixton, Oct. 14th"—I was not able to trace that note at that time—I returned to the Post Office, and Mr. Peacock and myself both asked the prisoner if he had changed a note in the neighbourhood of Camberwell on the 14th Oct., or within the last three weeks—he said, he was quite positive that he had not done so—it was mentioned to him that Dr. Cronin had enclosed the check, and that the check belonged to Dr. Cronin—he was allowed to go home on that occasion—I went a second time to Camberwell to make inquiries, and ultimately traced the second note to Miss Everett—I then took the prisoner into custody—I told him that he must accompany me again to the Post Office, to explain the matter again—he said, it was a mysterious affair—when we got to the Post Office, he was again told that a check had been enclosed in a letter, and that the second note had been traced to him, and I asked him whether he could explain that—he said he was confused, and could say no more—he was asked whether he made up the 3 o'clock collection on 13th Oct.—he said, "Yes"—he was asked whether he made up the 5 o'clock collection—he said he could not recollect, it must have been either himself or his wife.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he not on the second occasion, when you explained to him that you had traced the note to Miss Everett, say, "Oh, yes!" that he had changed a note there, and that he had seen Miss Everett write his name upon it? A. He did.
COURT. Q. Did he say that at the same interview? A. Yes; when it
was stated to him that the second note had been traced—it was after he had said he was confused, and could say no more.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was read as follows:—"On Monday, 25th Oct., at night, Dr. Cronin came into my shop, and complained that the check had been lost; I wrote to Mr. Smith, at the Post Office, stating the particulars to him. The check was never in my possession, and I think I can give clear evidence who paid me the notes, which have been traced to me.")
MR. BALLANTINE to DR. CRONIN. Q. I believe you went to the prisoner's receiving house to make inquiry before you went to the Post Office? A. I think it was the evening of the same day; I went to complain—the prisoner recommended me to go to the Post Office.
COURT. Q. When was it you applied at his place? A. I think it was more than a week after sending the letter, or it might be ten days, I cannot say—it was after having received an intimation from Miss Murray, and from Drummonds—I went to Drummonds, I think, two or three days before I went to the prisoner—I did not take Drummonds' letter with me to the prisoner's house—he came to my house a few days afterwards, and I showed it to him—I have it here—the first intimation I received of the letter being lost was from Miss Murray—I then wrote to Drummonds—I received an answer, and went to the prisoner a day or two after—I told him that the letter had miscarried, and he recommended me to go to the Post Office.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY. Aged 24.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of his excellent character.
Confined Two Years.
Before Mr. Justice Coleridge and the Fourth Jury.
GUILTY . Aged 29.
(There was another indictment against the prisoner, for forging an acceptance to a bill of exchange for 156l. MR. BODKIN, for the Prosecution, requested that it might stand over until the next Session, and stated that the purposes of justice might be promoted by judgment upon the present indictment being respited.)
MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS SAUNDERS . I am foreman to Mr. Harris, a stationer, at 39, St. John-street, Clerkenwell. I have known the prisoner fifteen or sixteen years, but had lost sight of him for very nearly two years—I knew him first by the name of Watson, and afterwards by the name of Allen—he has been a schoolmaster—on 4th Oct., about a quarter before 9 o'clock in the evening, he came to Mr. Harris's shop—I saw Tripcony, the shopman, serving him—I made out an invoice of the goods be ordered—they consisted of copy books, slates, and various spelling books, three of each kind, as if he was going to open a school—I asked him if he was going to open again; he said "Yes," and he wished me to bring him up some maps—I asked him where, and he said "To the old place"—I asked, where did he mean, Castle-street? he said, "Yes"—I knew him to have carried on business in Castle-street as a schoolmaster—I do not recollect the number, I think it was 36—I asked him if I should bring the parcel home; he aid, "Never mind"—he said he
wished to give us a turn, as we had lost a good deal of money by him—I asked him what name; he said, "Oh, Allen"—I knew him by the name of Watson in Castle-street—I think the goods came to about If. 1s. 10d.—after I had made out the invoice, and whilst the goods were being packed, he asked me if I could change him a 5l. note—he had got his hand in his pocket at the time, junking some money—I said to Tom, one lad, who was serving him, "You have not change for a 5l. note, have you?"—he said, "No, I have not, Sir"—upon that I told the prisoner I would get him change—he said, "No, never mind; I have got money"—he had the note in his hand, and I fancy he put it in his pocket again—I supposed it was a 5l. note, but I did not take it out of his hand to look—just at that time Mr. Harris came in—the prisoner said, "How do you do, Mr. Harris? I am going to open school again, and I wish to lay out a little ready money; I know you have lost a little by me before, and I wish to lay out my ready money with you"—he said, "Have you got the difference of a 5l. note?" Mr. Harris said, "Yes, certainly"—the prisoner then gave him a 5l. note; this (produced) is it—he handed it to Mr. Harris, and he gave him change—the prisoner had ordered some maps; we had not those maps in stock, and I said I would bring them to him on the Thursday or Friday—when the parcel of slates and books was made up, I said I would send them up next morning; he said, "Never mind, I must take them myself"—he said he was in a very great hurry, and he should want them very early in the morning—on receiving his change, he took the parcel, and went out—in three or four minutes afterwards, Mr. Harris thought he had made a mistake in the change, and sent Tripcony after him—he was absent about ten minutes, and then returned without the prisoner, but with the parcel which the prisoner had taken—I did not see the prisoner again until he was in custody—on the following day I went with Archer, the constable, to the house in Castle-street, where I knew the prisoner had carried on business—I did not find him there; he was not living there—I made inquiries, and could not find anything of him.
WILLIAM HARRIS . I am a stationer, of 39, St. John-street, Clerkenwell. I have known the prisoner sixteen or seventeen years—on 4th Oct., near 9 o'clock in the evening, I came in, and found him in my shop—after some conversation, he asked whether I had change of a 5l. note; I said, "Yes, certainly"—I went behind the counter, and he produced the note out of his pocket, and laid it on the counter—I asked him what change he wanted, and I appealed to my foreman, who is my half brother; he said, "You are to take 1l. 1s. 10d.," and I gave him 3l. 18s. 2d.—this is the note—he took the parcel, wished me good night, and went away—I put the note into my pocket—I had no other 5l. note by me at that time—as soon as he was gone, fancying. I had given him a sovereign too much, I sent Tripcony after him—he returned in about ten or twelve minutes, with the parcel, but without the prisoner—in consequence of what I learned from him, I marked the note—this is what I wrote on it, "David Allen, Oct. 4, 1852"—I believe that is the prisoner's correct name—next morning I sent the note to the Bank, and it was returned to me stamped "Forged," as it is now—I then delivered the note to Archer, the constable, and gave him a description of the prisoner—I saw nothing more of the prisoner until 2nd Nov., at 7 in the evening, when I went to the Bagnigge Wells police station, and found him there—I there charged him with uttering the forged note; I said, "Mr. David Allen, you are caught at last"—he said that misfortunes had been showering upon him so thick, that he did not care what became of himself—next morning, previous to going before the Justice, the prisoner sent for me—I asked him
what he wanted with me; he said, "Will you be satisfied if the amount of the note is made up to you, and Shepherd's bill, and not prosecute?"—I said, "What do you mean? have you got the money?" he said, "No, but I can give you good security"—I said, "That will not do; that is quite enough"—he said, "Will you hear what I have got to say? for I declare to God that when I planted that note upon you I was almost starving"—nothing else passed—I then went before the Magistrate.
Prisoner. Q. How long have you known me? A. Sixteen or seventeen years—I cannot say that your dealings with me have always been strictly honourable—there was nothing dishonourable about Shepherd's bill.
COURT. Q. Then, except that transaction, was his dealing always honourable? A. Well, he owed me money before that, and told me he had passed through the Insolvent Court—I did not take the trouble to ascertain about that.
Prisoner. Q. At the time of Shepherd's bill, did not I voluntarily offer to pay you what I was in debt to you at the time, and did not you deduct that sum from the amount of the bill? A. Yes, that is correct—you did not take Shepherd's bill on my recommendation—I told you I had known Mr. Shepherd for many years, and he was a highly respectable man—you had had the bill in your possession a month before you made the inquiry of me—I believe you have come to me since then when you wanted stock, and laid out your ready money with me.
THOMAS TRIPCONY . I am shopman to Mr. Harris. I remember the evening of 4th Oct., when the prisoner came for some goods—in consequence of instructions from Mr. Harris I went out after him, and overtook him facing Nicholson's distillery, in St. John-street—I tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "Mr. Allen, Mr. Harris thinks he has made a small mistake in your bill, will you be kind enough to step back with me"—he said, "Yes"—he then said, "Have you got the bill?"—I said, no, I believed he had got it in his pocket, or else it was in the parcel—he turned round to return with me—he asked me to carry the parcel, it was rather heavy—we had not got a dozen steps before he asked me that—I took it from him, and we went on as far as Compton-street; he then said to me, "Just wait here one minute while I go round the corner to ease myself"—I waited perhaps three or four minutes—he went round the corner—finding he did not return I went round the corner to seek after him, and found he had disappeared—I waited altogether perhaps ten minutes, and then went back with the parcel to my employer, and communicated to him what had happened.
Prisoner. Q. When Mr. Harris was at the till, about to give me my change, and he passed the note across the counter to you, where did you take it? A. He did not pass it to me—he did not send me out of the shop with it—I did not go out of the shop till after you went out—I did not leave the shop while you were there.
GEORGE HENRY COOPER . I live at 36, Castle-street, Oxford-street. I have lived there about eight months—the prisoner has not lived there at any part of that time, or carried on any school there—I never saw him till this day.
Prisoner's Defence (written). On 4th Oct. I went to the shop of Mr.
Harris, with whom I had dealt seventeen years, for the purpose of purchasing some school stationery. I gave Mr. Harris a 5l. Bank of England note to pay for the things, which he put into his trowsers pocket. He went to the till to get change, which he opened, but before he began to count it out he took something out of his trowsers pocket, and handed it to the shopman, Tripcony (which I believe to be the note I gave him), who went out of the shop, but did not return during the remainder of my stay, which was five or six minutes. After I had left the shop, bearing somebody running behind me, I turned round, and observed Tripcony; he said, "Mr. Harris thinks he has made a mistake in your change; "I said, "Has he? I do not think he has." I turned back with him, intending to go to the shop; when we arrived at the corner of Compton-street, having occasion to leave for a minute or two to attend to nature's call, I requested Tripcony to hold the parcel; I found that the bill contained my change, and it was quite right; and then remembering how I became possessed of the note, the thought momentarily struck me that it might be a stolen note, or something wrong about it, accordingly through fear I did not return, but proceeded homewards; as to its being forged, I had not the slightest idea of such a thing, as I was not aware there was such a thing in existence, and I having given change for it. How I came possessed of the note was as follows: on Saturday, 2nd Oct., I went out for the purpose of purchasing some school fixtures, and took with me five sovereigns, two half sovereigns, and silver. I met a person who was formerly a lodger of mine; we went into a public house in the Borough, and bad some refreshment; we were nearly an hour and a half there, during which time I got into conversation with some men who were standing drinking at the bar; one of them asked me if I could oblige him with change for a 5l. note; he took from his breast pocket a pocket book, out of which he took seven or eight notes, and handed one to me, saying he should feel much obliged to me if I would; I replied, "Certainly," and gave him four sovereigns and two half sovereigns in change for it, which I should not have done had I been sober, but I was intoxicated. I partook of something to drink at his request; I wrapped the sovereign in the note, and asked Mrs. Wilson, my old lodger, for a pin; she gave me one, and I pinned it in my watch fob; we finished what we had, and left the house, Mrs. Wilson going her way, and I mine. Had I known the note was a forgery, is it likely I should have taken it to a person that had known me so long, and who, I might be sure, would recognize me, and recollect the transaction? I do not know that the note produced is the same I gave to Mr. Harris; if it is, it bears the marks of the pin holes, if it does not, it is not the same. Mr. Harris swore at the police court that he compared it with ten or fifteen others, and is it not likely it might have got changed?
MARY WILSON . I am a married woman, living with my husband. I know the prisoner; his name is David Allen—I have known him by that name—I lodged with him in Castle-street, Oxford-street, just upon twelve months—it is about two years ago—he was then a schoolmaster—on 2nd Oct. I met him, about 9 o'clock in the evening, in the Borough—I went with him to a public house at the corner of Mint-street—I staid there about an hour and a half—I was drinking with him—I had one or two glasses of brandy and water—there were two or three men at the bar standing close by us—they got into conversation with the prisoner, and they asked him if he would give them change of a 5l. note—he said he would do so, and he took four sovereigns and two half sovereigns out of his pocket, and the man took a pocket-book out of his pocket, and gave him a note, and he gave them the money,
the four sovereigns and two half sovereigns—he asked me if I would give him a pin; I did so, and he took another sovereign out of his pocket, wrapped it inside the note, and pinned it inside his waistcoat—we had a glass of brandy and water with the men, and came out—I wished him good night, and came home.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. How do you get year living? A. My husband is a comb maker, and lives at 7, East-lane, Walworth—he does not keep a shop, he works—I have known the prisoner better than two years—I believe he has lived in Drummond-street part of the time—I do not know exactly how long; six or seven months—I always knew him by the name of Allen—I know Clerkenwell prison—I have never been there—I was never imprisoned there—I have been inside it, when the prisoner was there—he was there in the name of Allen—I am sure of that; that was the name I asked for—I went to see him—he was there about this note—a friend told me of it—I never knew him in Clerkenwell for anything else—I do not know the City Computer—I have passed it; I was never inside—I went to the police court with a friend—it was a female named Vernon—she lives at 26, Henry-street, Pentonville—her husband is a fancy card maker—I have always lived with my husband—I lived with him in Castle-street—I never knew the prisoner by the name of Young or Fenton, or any other name but Allen—I do not know that he went by the name of Fenton; I never heard of it; or by the name of Cox—I do not know where he was living in Jan. last—I have missed sight of him for some length of time, since within a month or two of 1851—I have not seen him since 1851 till I saw him at the station house at Clerkenwell—I met him in the Borough on 2nd Oct.—I cannot say what day it was that I went to the police court—I was sent for by Mrs. Vernon—she inquired for him by the name of Lewis—she went with me.
GUILTY .—Aged 35. Transported for Ten Years.
(MR. CLARKSON stated that in addition to the case of uttering counterfeit coin, to which the prisoner had pleaded Guilty (see page 19), he had been eight months in prison for a fraud upon Wilson's Charity.)
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA WILLIAMS NEWCOMB. I am housemaid, in the service of Captain Codrington, of 82, Eccleston-square. On Monday afternoon, 8th Nov., about 4 o'clock, I was coming down stairs, near the water closet door, and observed some dirty marks there—that induced me to go into the scullery, where I found the cook, the prisoner—she had been washing the skirt of her dress in a pail by the sink—she showed it to me—I said to her as I came along the passage, "Halloo, Harriet! have you been sick?"—she made no answer—when I got into the scullery she said, "I am so at last, Eliza; and no one knows what I have suffered"—she lifted up her dress, and showed me where she had been washing it—about five minutes after that I went upstairs to her bedroom; I slept with her—I found the door locked—I said, "Open the door, it is only me, Harriet"—she opened it directly, and I went in—she was moving about the room, dressing herself; she bad got on her petticoat—I then went downstairs, leaving her there—as I was passing from the kitchen to the housekeeper's room, I heard a noise in the closet called the store closet—the housekeeper's room is on the same floor as the kitchen, the basement—
as I went by with my tray in my hand, the noise attracted my attention—I went on to the housekeeper's room, and came back to listen at the door—it appeared to me to come from that closet—I thought it was like a cat most desperately hurt; the cry was horrible, dreadful—I did not try the closet door at that time; it was locked—I went to listen; the noise came from within—I have no doubt about that—I did not try the door at that time—I listened there some minutes, and still heard the noise—I then heard some person coming down stairs—it was Mrs. Tobin, the nurse—I called her attention to the noise—she put her ear to the door—she told me to go up for the key—I did so—we went first of all to the drawer, to look for the key; it was not there; and then I went upstairs to get it from the prisoner—as I went up, I found the prisoner coming down—I said to her, "Oh, Harriet! there is such a dreadful noise in your cupboard; the poor cat has got in, and is very much hurt; give me the key, and I will let her out"—she did not give me the key—she walked down by my side—I said to her, "Oh, don't open the door till I get a light; she may be in a fit!"—I meant the cat—I went into the house keeper's room for a light—I did not go to the closet with the light—the prisoner was coming out of the closet when I came out of the housekeeper's room—I was hardly an instant away—when I came back with the light, the prisoner was returning out of the closet—she came out, turned the key, and put it in her pocket—I did not hear any noise in the closet after that—when I was at the bottom of the kitchen stairs, I heard it; and I said to the prisoner, "Oh, Harriet, it is such a horrid noise; it is more like a young kid than a cat!"—she made no reply—when I saw her coming out of the store closet, I said, "What is it?"—she said, "The cat; she has run up there (meaning to the kitchen); her tail was shut in the door"—I followed to see, but saw nothing of the cat—there was a little kitten in the house; I did not see it for some hours afterwards—I had never said anything to the prisoner about her being in the family way—I never saw her at work upon any clothes for a child—she used to work in my presence—I never saw anything being made for a child.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. I believe the prisoner was some months in Captain Codrington's employment? A. Yes she was, about six months—there was only one cat in the house, that was the kitten; the prisoner was very fond of it—she used to feed it, and pay a great deal of attention to it—it did not follow her about the house particularly—she was not much in the habit of playing with it and fondling it; she kept if pretty much in its place—it used to run about in all the lower parts out of the house—the store closet was the cook's closet, to which it was her business to go frequently during the day—there were no eatables kept there—I did not find the cat for some hours afterwards—she was then in the scullery at play.
COURT. Q. Did you hear the prisoner open the door? A. Yes.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. And the moment the door opened, the noise ceased? A. I went into the housekeeper's room at the time she unlocked the door—I did not hear her unlock the door—I was about as far from her when she unlocked the door as I am now—I saw her come down stairs—I do not know whether the noise ceased immediately the door was opened.
CATHERINE TOBIN . I am the wife of William Tobin, a bricklayer, in Johnson's-place, St. George's-road. I was at Captain Codrington's on this day, about half past 4 o'clock—as I was coming downstairs, the last witness said to me, thinking I was the prisoner, "Good God, Harriet, there is a dreadful noise in your cupboard!"—I said, "Whatever is the matter?"—she said, "There is a dreadful noise in Harriet's closet"—the key was not in the
closet—I looked for it, but could not find it, so I sent her upstairs for it—she came down immediately with the prisoner by her side—I heard the noise in the closet; it sounded to me like the squeal of a cat that had been severely hurt—I listened to it—when the prisoner came down I turned into the pantry for a light, and sent Eliza for one into the housekeeper's room—as she came out with it I took it out of her hand, and at that moment the prisoner was coming out of the closet—I saw her unlock the door and go in—I cannot say exactly how long she was in before she came out—it could not have been more than two minutes—I came up to her with the light, and said, "Harriet, where is the cat?"—she said, "It has passed out there," into the kitchen—she said the door had pinched its tail—I did not hear the noise when she went into the closet—as soon as she went in the noise ceased—I went into the kitchen with the housemaid to look after the cat, and the prisoner came in after us—I noticed that she locked the closet door and put the key in her pocket—I cannot say whether she usually kept the key—I afterwards went up into her bedroom—I saw a gown and petticoat of hers there, all stained with blood; I afterwards found a chemise and flannel petticoat stained in the same way—some hours afterwards I went again up to her bedroom—she was then in bed—that was between 9 and 10—I asked her how she felt—she said she was better—I said, "Harriet, did you not know that you had a dear little baby, and not to do away with it?"—she said she did not know that she had; she thought she should be put on the streets, and she had no home.
Cross-examined. Q. You are a married woman? A. Yes; I have had one child—I was a nurse in the family—I saw the prisoner unlock the door—the noise ceased as she went in.
COURT. Q. All at once? A. Yes—my child lived five weeks—I had been as a wet nurse—I had the care of an infant—I have had children to dry nurse—it did not occur to me at all, when I heard the noise, that it was like the noise of a child crying—I did not suspect there was a child then—I thought at the time that it was the noise of a cat that bad been severely hurt—the noise of a young child at its birth is of a very peculiar nature—I did not detect that peculiar sound.
(Upon this evidence, MR. JUSTICE COLERIDGE, having considered the remainder of the depositions, was of opinion that it would be too unsafe for the JURY to come to the conclusion that the noise in question proceeded from a child, and that its cessation was in consequence of any violent act of the prisoner's, in which case only could they find her guilty; it might amount to evidence of concealment; but, under the present form of indictment, that verdict could not be found. The JURY expressed their concurrence in this opinion, and found the prisoner NOT GUILTY .)
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 24th, 1852.
PRESENT—Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. CUBIT.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Fifth Jury.
MR. GIFFORD conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID COOPER . I am a carpenter, at 1, Hanover-place, Thames-bank. On 30th Sept. I went to change a check at the London and Westminster bank, between 1 and 2 o'clock—I then went and had some dinner—I went
to a wine-vaults in the strand, between 4 and 5 in the afternoon, and from thence I went to an Alton alehouse near Temple-bar, at something like 6—I met the prisoner about 6, near Temple-bar, on the way to the Alton ale-house—I had about me three 5l. notes, and twelve sovereigns—when I met the prisoner she came up and asked me to treat her, or something of that kind—while I was talking to her the policeman came to Mr. Albright and Mr. Ray, friends of mine, who were with me—the prisoner was not near enough to hear what the policeman said to my friends, but she was near when Mr. Albright spoke to me—he said the policeman had been, and asked if I was a friend of his, and told him the prisoner was a noted thief, or something of that kind—the prisoner was standing close by at that time—in conesquence of that I left her, and went back through Temple-bar again to the other side—the prisoner came to me a second time, while Mr. Albright was gone to buy some meat to have something to eat at the Alton alehouse—Mr. Ray was in the street standing by—when the prisoner came up to me in a similar way to what she did before, I said, "I am going into this house" the Alton alehouse—I walked through the bar into a little room behind, and the prisoner followed me—we had a pint of ale there—I cannot exactly say how long we were there together—perhaps half an hour, or something like that—Mr. Albright came and stood at the front of the bar; he looked round, and as soon as the prisoner saw him, she jumped up and ran away directly—I paid for the ale—I had a pint of ale, and she took a part of it, I believe—after she was gone I made the best of my way home after a time—I did not leave immediately after her—I did not sit drinking, and go to sleep, I made the best of my way home—I went out to Fleet-street—I remained there some time—I then got a cab, and made the best of my way home—I was not asleep in the alehouse after the prisoner left—when I got home, I missed my money—I found in my pocket one sovereign and two shillings—I had had three 5l. notes, and twelve sovereigns in gold, which was the money I received from the bank—I had found it safe in my pocket just before I went in the alehouse with the prisoner.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Where did you procure the check from, that you went to get changed at the London and Westminster Bank? A. From Mr. Albright, who went with me to the bank; he had two checks; he gave me one, in a public-house, in the Old Kent-road—I do not know the sign of the house—I should say it must have been about 12 o'clock—he lives in Camber well New-road—that was the first public-house I had been in that morning—of course we had something to drink there—we did not go into any other public house, but went straight from there to the London and Westminster Bank, at the foot of London-bridge—I arrived at the bank between 1 and 2, perhaps about 2—I will not say how long it took to walk from the Old Kent-road to the foot of London-bridge—it might be half past 12 when I came away from the Old Kent-road—I believe we had a quartern of gin between three of us in the public house in the Old Kent-road—there was Mr. Albright, Mr. Ray, and me—we had nothing else—when we were at the bank, Mr. Albright did not put any of the money into his pocket; I put it all into mine—from the bank we went right over London-bridge, and, in going over, we wanted something to eat, and Mr. Albright went to an eating-house on this side London-bridge, and bought some—we then went to have some dinner in a public house—we had some hot and cold meat, and some potatoes—we had the usual quantity of beer—we had no gin—we staid about three quarters of an hour—we then went to the Auction-mart—I was never there before—I was then in the same state as I am now—it is somewhere handy to
the Bank—we staid there perhaps half an hour or more—they were selling some land—there was a crowd of people—from there we went to a horse repository, near Blackfriars-bridge—Mr. Albright and Mr. Ray were with me, and Mr. White, who keeps an inn in Black friars-road—we had some gin at the bottom of Fleet-street—I think the name of the public house is the Bell—we did not stay there ten minutes—we then went up Fleet-street, to the Strand, and went into Short's wine vaults—Mr. White had then left us—Mr. Albright and Mr. Ray were with me—we stopped there some time—we did not have any beer—we had several glasses of wine; I cannot exactly tell how many I had to my own share; it might be half a dozen—it was drank in front of the bar—there were persons coming in and going out—that was the second time I was there—I paid for a part of that wine—from there we came back towards the City—I went into another public house, between Short's and the Alton ale house—I had 3d. worth of gin there—I should say it was then somewhere about 6 o'clock; it might be a little later; it was not 7—I staid there ten minutes perhaps—I saw no woman before the bar of the public house while I and my friends were drinking the gin—when we had finished the gin, I found my way through Temple-bar, and into the Alton ale house—as soon as I got into the house the prisoner followed me—Mr. Albright came almost immediately afterwards, and the moment he entered the house the prisoner went off—I treated her with a pint of ale to drink in a room in a line with the bar—there was no other person in the room except the waiter who brought the pint of ale—I saw no more of the prisoner after that—she might have been half an hour or three quarters of an hour in the back room, drinking the pint of ale—Mr. Albright was standing in front of the bar, with some victuals that he had got—after the prisoner had disappeared, I did not stay long in the Alton ale house; it might be ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—Mr. Albright did not stay with me; he left, and went home—Mr. Ray went away about the same time—he wanted to get to London-bridge—they both went away about the same time, and left me in the Alton ale house—I was there sometime—I then went out, and walked up and down Fleet-street—I did not know Mr. Albright and Mr. Ray were gone—I thought I should see them for some time—while I was walking up and down Fleet-street I did not speak to any one, only to a cabman—I might perhaps be an hour or longer walking up and down—after that I took a cab, at the top of Fleet-street, to take me home—I did not indulge in a little sleep before I got home—I live at Pimlico, in a private house, which I rent.
Q. Now I caution you; are you prepared to say, on your oath, that you did not go to sleep anywhere that afternoon till you got to your own house? A. From the time I left the Alton ale house, till I got to my own house, no—from the time I changed the check, till I went to the Alton ale house, I did not—I swear I did not go to sleep anywhere till I went home—I let apartments in my house; it is an eight roomed house—I sleep in the back room on the first floor—I do not let the front room first floor; I let the two top bed rooms—the room I sleep in is not a room to which other persons lodging in the house might have access—I have never said that the room in which I sleep is one to which other persons could have access—from the time I went with Mr. Albright, and obtained the check, till I went to the Alton alehouse, I did not go to sleep anywhere—while in the Alton ale house I did not go to sleep in the back room there—I have never said that the room in which I slept was a room to which other persons could have access, nor the room in which I slept at home—I was examined before the Magistrate—my deposition was read, and I signed it—(the witness's deposition being read
contained the following words: "I went in the house between 9 and 10 in the evening; I went to sleep on the table; I drank none of the ale")—I do not remember going to sleep or swearing that—I dare say what I stated before the Magistrate was truth, but I never remember going to sleep—I walked about the street for an hour, and then went home in a cab—it must have been between 10 and 11 o'clock before I got into the cab—I took the cab in Fleet-street, and went home—I had walked about perhaps more than an hour—I had had too much to drink certainly—I saw no females at the bar of the Alton ale house.
MR. GIFFORD. Q. When was the first time you went before the Magistrate? A. I was there three times; the first time was the next day—it must have been the 2nd Oct—I was perfectly sober at the time I went to the bank to get the notes.
SAMUEL RAY . I am a carpenter, and live at Croydon. I remember the day the prosecutor went to the bank to change the check—I went with him to the branch bank—I was with him near Temple-bar in the evening—I saw the prisoner come up and speak to him—a policeman came and spoke to Mr. Albright—what the policeman had said was communicated to the prosecutor in my presence, but the prisoner was not near enough to hear it—after Mr. Albright said something to the prosecutor he left the prisoner—the next time I saw the prisoner was when we were in the Alton ale shop, in Fleet-street—I saw her come to the bar, and lean over and speak to some one behind the bar—I was six or seven feet from her, and did not hear what was said—she then went out, and Cooper went out also—presently they both came in together; they went past me, and went to the back of the shop—I never saw anything more of them.
COURT. Q. What state was Cooper in? A. I did not think he was drunk; if I had I should have taken care of him—he had been drinking in course of the day—he could walk firmly and straight.
Cross-examined. Q. At the time you left the prosecutor in the Alton ale house, I believe there were other persons there? A. I saw none in front of the bar—I believe there was one behind the bar serving.
JOSEPH BURCHER (policeman, F 62). On the night of 30th Sept., about 9 o'clock, I saw the prosecutor and his friends at Temple-bar—I saw the prisoner talking to the prosecutor while they were standing on the pavement—I knew her before as a prostitute, and I had seen her in custody for felony—the prosecutor appeared to be drunk, but not incapable—one of the prosecutor's friends spoke to me, and I cautioned him—the prosecutor came and spoke to me himself—the prisoner did not seem inclined to leave him, and I went and spoke to her, and told her to go away from him—she wanted to know what I interfered with her for, and said she was doing nothing—they came through Temple-bar, and I saw no more till the next day—the prosecutor came to me, between 1 and 2 o'clock, and gave me some information—I went to look for the prisoner, and took her about 5 in the afternoon, in a public-house in Clare-market.
RICHARD ADYE BAILEY . I am a clerk, in the Bank of England. I produce two cancelled 5l. notes, Nos. 97,837 and 97,839, both dated 1st Sept., 1852—on No. 97,837 is the name of Lee, and No. 97,839 has "Houghton, Turk-street," on it, and also "Smith"—this was paid in by the London and Westminster Bank, on 7th Oct., and the other on 25th Oct., through Glynn's.
"Houghton, Turk-street"—I gave silver in change for it to Mrs. Houghton's little girl.
ANN HOUGHTON (the younger). I live with my mother, at 24, Turk-street, Bethnal-green. I remember being sent to Mrs. Potter's to get change for a 5l. note—I gave Mrs. Potter the same note that my mother gave me—I got change for another note at Mr. Brown's, at the Turk's Head, the next day—I received that note from my mother too.
ANN HOUGHTON (the elder.) I am the wife of Joseph Houghton, 24, Turk-street. I remember sending my little girl with a 5l., note to Mrs. Potter—I should not know the note—I received it from a brother of mine, Mr. Lee, who keeps the York Arms, in Shire-lane—I received two notes from him—I sent my little girl to change the other note at Mr. Brown's—Mr. Lee sent me them in payment of a debt of 10l., which he owed.
COURT. Q. What was the 10l. owing you for? A. It was 10l. My husband lent him, soon after his wife died, which is rather more than four months ago.
MICHAEL LEE . I keep the York Arms, in Shire-lane, Temple-bar. I remember paying Mrs. Houghton two 5l. notes, which I had taken orer the bar—the last one about four or five days before I paid it, and the first one about four or five days before that—the person who paid me the first note wrote the name of Smith on the back of it—this is the note—I do not know the man—I received the other from two young men, who came and had a glass of ale and biscuit and cheese—they asked me if I could oblige them with change for a 5l. note, and, having plenty of silver, I did—I did not know either of them—it is stated by the police that the house is used by unfortunate females, but I do not know it—one or two of them may come there—I did not know those two men—it was about 11 o'clock in the morning—I have changed about a dozen notes in silver over my bar—I changed this with two sovereigns in gold, and the rest silver—the other note written Smith on I took for threepenny worth of brandy that the man bad, and gave him 4l. 19s. 9d.—I did not know the man before—it was towards dinner time, in the fore part of the day—the prisoner was not there—she had been there, but I had not seen her for weeks before I heard of the robbery—she had not frequented the house—she had been there about a dosen times since I kept it—she has not been there with men—she appeared to me to be passing towards the market.
COURT to RACHEL POTTER. Q. Can you tell what day it was you changed that note? A. No, I cannot—I did not keep it long in my possession; I gave it to a hay salesman—I do not know when I paid it—they could tell, but I could not.
COURT to ANN HOUGHTON (the elder.) Q. Can you tell me the date when you changed this note? A. No; it was seven or eight days before we went to Guildhall on the first day—I cannot exactly tell when that day was—I was there on the last Friday, and two Fridays previous.
HENRY WILLIAM HOULT . I am waiter at the Alton ale house. I remember serving the prosecutor with a pint of ale—I saw the prisoner there—they called for a pint of ale, which the prosecutor paid for out of his right hand side pocket.
Cross-examined. Q. Your house is a frequented house? has a great many in and out? A. Yes; we do not look into the characters of persons who are there—the prosecutor came in about five minutes before 9 o'clock, and went out about twenty or twenty-five minutes after—none but themselves were in the back parlour.
MR. SLEIGH to DAVID COOPER. Q. When did you first go to the Alton ale house? was it about 6 o'clock? A. That was the first time I went in; the prisoner did not follow me then, but between 9 and 10.
MR. SLEIGH to HOULT. Q. Were you in the house all day? A. Yes; I was the only person serving—I can positively swear that the prosecutor was not in the house till near 9 o'clock—we have no young woman there—we have no barmaid—we have a domestic servant, but she was not behind the bar.
COURT. Q. Had you ever seen the prosecutor before? A. No, I had never seen him before—I will not pledge myself that he might not have had a glass of ale there before, but I will pledge myself that he was not there that day.
COURT to SAMUEL RAY. Q. Were you in Cooper's company all the time you say you went in the alehouse with him? A. Yes; he was not in the house about 6 o'clock—that is a mistake on his part.
JURY. We cannot rely on the prosecutor's evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
HUGH MARTIN . I am a tailor, and live in Crown-row, Mile-end-road. On 1st Nov., about half past 5 o'clock in the evening, I was passing along Brick-lane, Spitalfields—I had with me twenty-nine yards of doeskin cloth—I was carrying it on my shoulder—I remember passing the door of a public house—the prisoner was standing at the door of it, and two persons along with him, and I dare say there were two or three persons inside—the prisoner said to me, "Old friend, you are too proud to speak to me now"—I told him he had the advantage of me, I had not the pleasure of knowing him, and I walked on, I should say forty or fifty yards, before anything happened—I was at the corner of a street, when I was caught round my arms from behind by somebody, and another man came behind me and pulled the cloth off my shoulder—it was taken by a man, but I could not identify the man that took it—I could not swear that I had seen that man before that night—I saw him take it from my shoulder, and he gave it to another, a younger man, a few yards Off, and he went off down Fleur-de-lis street—I caught hold of the man who was holding my arms, and it turned out to be the prisoner; it was the roan who had said, "Old friend" to me—I held him, and called out, "Police!"—I wanted to go after the cloth, but I would not let the prisoner go—I had hold of him, and was going with him between 200 and 300 yards—I had an opportunity of seeing him so as to know him again—at the end of that 200 or 300 yards he came opposite to a lodging house—he dragged me into this house, and then he bolted through a door that is in the side of the house—that door led into a court—I let go of him when he got through that door; after he went through the door was shut—I did not venture to go through—I waited there, calling, "Police!"—two policemen came, and I went with them through that door, which led into a court where there were six or Seven little cottages, and out of one of the cottages the policemen brought the prisoner to me—I said in his presence that he was the man, but he had changed his coat—I am quite sure he is the man.
Prisoner. When I was brought down by the officer, he objected to say that that was the party, because he could not exactly bring it to his recollection. Witness. No, not him; another party who was brought out before him, who I believe was the man who took the cloth from me, but not this one.
COURT. Q. Did you doubt about the prisoner being the man? A. No; I said, "This is the man, but he has got another coat on."
GEORGE KING (police sergeant, H 27). On 1st Nov., after 5 o'clock, I was at the bottom of Thrawl-street. I went across the road, and saw the last witness standing at the door of Hurley's lodging house—another constable was with me, and one came up immediately after—from what the prosecutor said, I left one constable outside the house—I took another constable with me, and we went through a door in a room in Hurley's lodging house into the court, which contains five small cottages of two rooms each—I went and searched every one of them—I found four men; one was coming out of the entrance of the same cottage where I saw the prisoner—I got a candle, and said to the prosecutor, "Look at these men, and see if you know either of them"—he looked, and immediately pointed out the prisoner as being the man who pinioned him, but he had changed his coat—he did not express any doubt respecting the prisoner; he did respecting one in shirt sleeves, who he said he believed was the man who took the cloth—I told the prisoner the charge—he said he must be mistaken; he had not been out of the house since dinner time.
Prisoner's Defence. I am not the person; about the time that the prosecutor speaks of, about half past 5 o'clock, a man, five or six inches taller than me, came up the court; I heard him come up; I sent down one of my girls to see what time it was, expecting a man to come for a coat I had to bind and new button; the girl came and brought word it was a quarter past 5, and as soon as the girl came up, a footstep came up the court; the man asked the girl to give him a pail, or tub, to wash in; she asked me, and I said, "Yes, let him have one, but be sure you bring it up again;" she took the pail down, and heard a great deal of disturbance and bustle at the end of the court; she came up, and said, "There are three or four policemen and a great number of people;" I said to my daughter, and another girl who works with me, "Don't, either of you, go down;" there was a disturbance with the police and the man who was washing himself—they had accused him of this robbery that I am now here for; he is rather older than me; shortly after, Mr. King came up and knocked at the door; I said, "Open the door;" he said, "I want to look if any one is here;" he looked through the room; he found nothing, and was satisfied; he was going down stairs, and he said, "You may as well come with me;" I said, "Certainly, I know I have not been out since half past 1; I know there is nothing can be brought against me;" I went down with him; that was the only time I had been out of my own room since half past 1; it was then a quarter or 20 minutes after 6; I had a shilling job to seat a pair of trowsers in the morning; I took them home and received the shilling; I went in a public house in Whitechapel-road, and it was four minutes after 1; I called for a pint of porter, and stayed and drank it; I then returned to my own house; it was not ten minutes after the time I left the public house till I was at home, and from that time till I came down with King I had not been out of my house; I have been living there the last five years, and neither King nor any one can say I was quarrelsome or troublesome, but always conducted myself well.
COURT to GEORGE KING. Q. You brought the prisoner down? A. Yes; him and three others—I found the prisoner in an upstairs room—there were two girls there—I looked round the room, but not strictly—I had not information then about the coat being changed—I looked in the room for the cloth—I did not see if there had been another coat put away—I brought three or four persons down at the same time—I got a light and showed them
to the prosecutor—he picked the prisoner out instantly—there was no light till I brought a candle—there was no light in the passage of the house.
COURT to HUGH MARTIN. Q. What light was there for you to see this man's face? A. There was the lamp light down Fleur de lis-street—we went right on the lamp light—he turned round to knock at a door to know if the cloth was gone there—I said, "No; I saw it go right on to the next lamp"—I kept fast hold of the prisoner, I have no doubt he is the man.
The prisoner called
JANE NEWMAN . I am the prisoner's daughter. I live with him—I have no mother—my father occupies one room up stairs, in Black Horse-court—I remember the day the policeman came—there was a young girl in the room with my father, Betsey Lee—my father came in about three hours befor e King the policeman came—he went out at a quarter to 12 o'clock, and came back about five minutes after 1—we have no clock in the room, I went down to see what time it was when my father came in—I know what time it was when my father went out, because he sent me down to see, and it wanted a quarter to 12—I went to Mrs. Herbert's public house, which is about five or six yards from our room—I did not go there for anything else but to see what time it was—I went down at five minutes past 1, to see what time it was, because I said to my father, "How soon you have come back; I will go and see what time it is"—he said, "I know I am, I will just finish your shoes"—my father is a tailor—he had to seat a pair of trowsers for a gentleman, besides putting a pair of tops on my shoes—he finished the trowsers, and I took them home to 2, George-street, to a young man that lives up in the top room—I do not know hit name—I knew where to go, because he told me to come to 2, George-street, in the top room—I do not know what time St was I took them home, I was not away above ten minutes or a quarter of an hour; when I came back I found my rather sitting up stairs on the floor—I remained at home after that till about a quarter to 6, then the young girl went down for a kettle of water, and I took the saucepan for water—I went just down stairs for the water—I went up again and made the kettle boil, and had my tea—my father said, "I have nearly done the boots now"—he was still at work at my boots—when the kettle boiled we all sat down and had our tea—when I had done I was washing the tea things, and I said to the young girl, "Go and see what time it it now; you know what time I must be in the City"—the went down, and said, "It is about a quarter past 5;" and she said, "There is such a bother at the bottom of the court"—I went downstairs with her to the bottom of the court—I saw Mr. King and two more policemen, and a lot of people—the policemen were talking to all the people in the lodging houses, and then they came down the court—Mr. King was then going up in my room—I said, "What are you going up in my room for?"—I went up again, and Mr. King brought my father down stain, and the prosecutor came up to my father and said, "I don't think that is the man"—they had a man with a white straw cap on, and a flannel jacket—they were going to accuse him of the robbery, and he said, "I don't think that is the man"—the policeman said to my father, "Are you willing to come with me"—my father said to me, "You go and fetch down my coat, hat, stock, and shoes, and they took my father to the station, and then the man swore that my father had the cloth or something.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How old are you? A. Seventeen last birth day; I have left my place, and live with my father—I do not know the persons who live in Hurley's lodging-house—I do not speak to any one there—the mistress of the other girl went to America, and I said to
her, "You may come and lodge with me at my fathers," and she has been there ever since with me—we have one room, my father dose not sleep in the room every night, he goes to a gentleman he knows—we did not have any dinner at all that day, I am quite sure of that—we had our tea in the morning, and then we had tea in the afternoon—we had no work for that girl that day—she was in the room all the afternoon doing nothing we had tea about a quarter to 6 o'clock—we had a bit of beef steak which we fried for tea, and bread and butter—I know Thrawl-street, it is not far from our court—when the prosecutor saw my father, he said he did not think he was the person—the coat my father sent for was a light one, the one he has on now—he has two coats on now, but they are both of a colour—the one that I fetched down, was the one he wears over the other when he was brought down by King he had one coat on, and one up stairs.
COURT. Q. When you fetched that coat from up stairs where did you find it? A. On the bed; I did not see my father put it there—the policeman ordered the bed to be pulled down—my father took that coat off about ten minutes after he came in—he had not had it on in the afternoon.
ELISABETH LEE . I remember the day that the policeman King came to the prisoner's premises—I was living in his room at that time, and had been for a week—the prisoner came in at half past 1 o'clock—I know the time, because I went down to see what time it was when he came in—I went down, because the prisoner's daughter and I were going out at half past 1—we both went out—we were out about half an hour—we went to take the trowsers home to a shop in Whitechapel, I do not know the name when we came back, we remained at home all the afternoon till the policeman came the prisoner was at home from the time he came home at half past 1, till the policeman came.
Cross-examined. Q. You and she went out to a shop in Whitechapel, and were out half an hour? A. Yes; I was at home all the rest of the time—it was about 2 o'clock when we came back and neither she nor I went out afterwards—we dined at half past 1 before we went out—we had bacon and potatoes for dinner, and bread and butter for tea at a quarter to 5—I went down to the bottom of the court when there was a noise—I was knocked down in the court by a man, that came running out of she lodging-house—I did not see anything that took place.
Prisoner. He said he was looking after a man with a blue coat on.
COURT to GEORGE KING. Q. When you brought the prisoner down, the prosecutor said, "That is the man, but he has got another coat on?" A. Yes; he mentioned a dark coat, hut he mentioned no colour—this over coat was brought down, he said nothing to that.
COURT to HUGH MARTIN. Q. You said the man had a dark coat on? A. Yes; darker than the prisoner has on now—I did not say it was blue.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COCKLE and GIFFORD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES JAMES ANDREWS . I am an agricultural instrument maker, and live at Reading, in Berkshire. I have two partners—I have no doubt I received these two letters (looking at them)—the first letter is dated 1st May, and the second 25th May—in consequence of the receipt of the lost letter I supplied two chaff machines—the order was received and entered in the order book—the usual course of business is, that these letters would be
opened by one of the partners in the morning, the order would be entered, end the order clerk would give orders to the porter, who would take them in the ordinary course of business—I, perhaps, do not see one thing of a thousand that leaves the premises—I have never been paid for these articles—I cannot say that I saw them leave my premises, or saw them packed up—I only know that we received an order, and sent the goods, and have never been paid for them—I know of no payment whatever respecting this order.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. You have two partners? A. Yes, and a great many clerks—I open letters sometimes, and sometimes one of the other partners does—I cannot swear that these letters came into my hands personally, but they came into the hands of our firm—I have seen them on our premises—the first time I saw them was when I understood there was a case of fraud against John Gerard—I should think that is about four weeks age—I am not aware that before I bad personally seen these letters; I may have done so—in the ordinary course of business perhaps fifty or sixty letters arrive in a day—these were received in the ordinary course of business, and filed away—our head clerk, Thomas James, got them from the file, and brought them to me—I never offered a reward of twenty guineas for some witness to prove the prisoner's handwriting; I never authorised any person to do it—there was no reward offered that I know of, nor ever thought of.
MARY ANN NEWTON , I am housekeeper to Mr. Styles, of Maidstone—he has a house and shop with a counting house to it—the prisoner called twice at that house to know if there was a shop to let—I answered him both times—I cannot tell when be called the first time; it was about the middle of the day, on a Saturday—he called the second time on the Tuesday following for the same purpose, and he hired it then—I showed it him, but I did not let it; my master was there that day—I was not in the room when he took it—I heard my master say he had taken it—he paid a week's rent, and bad the key of the shop—I did not see the prisoner pay it, but I saw my mask put it down—the prisoner never occupied the shop, nor was in it—he called twice at the house after he took the room in the course of a week—I heard him order the name of O. Walkins and Son to be put over the door—when he called afterwards it was for letters—he asked for letters directed O. Watkins and Son—I gave the prisoner's clerk eight or nine letters—I gave the prisoner two—the prisoner's clerk came with him to look at the place—he called him in to look at the shop—he said "My man," and after that he said "My clerk."
Cross-examined. Q. Can you read? A. No—I gave the prisoner two letters himself—when he came he said, "Are there any letters for me?" and I said, "Yes, Sir."—I cannot read writing; I can read printing in a book—I read the Bible—I am quite sure the prisoner called the other person his clerk—I saw the prisoner three times—I had not known him before—my master saw him, and made the arrangement with him—my master's name is William Styles; he is infirm, and very aged—I saw the prisoner three times, and after that I did not see him till I saw him at the bar, on 22nd Oct.—I would not be sure, but I believe I saw the person whom he called his clerk five times—I should know that man if I were to tee him—I had never seen him before—I think it was about the middle of May that the prisoner first called; about the 16th or 17th of May, to the best of my knowledge.
CHARLES PERCIVAL . I reside at 13, Queen's-row, Walworth. I have known the prisoner ten or twelve years—I knew his handwriting very well some years ago—I think these two letters (looking at them) are his handwriting
—I knew him by the name of Gerrard—I think the last time I saw him was twelve months before I saw him at the Magistrate's—former)y I was in the habit of seeing him frequently.
Cross-examined. Q. You used the words "I think" about this writing? A. Yes; I should not like to be positive—I have not hoard of a reward of twenty guineas in this matter; nothing of the kind—I do mot except to receive one farthing; I mean positively to represent that—I am at present employed in obtaining order for my brother, a coal merchant—I have got one order for him—I was down at Birmingham thirteen or fourteen months ago—I have lived at 13, Queen's-row, on and off, all my life; it is my mother's—I do not always sleep then; I frequently take my meals there—when I do not sleep at my mother's I sleep at 18, Ebenezer-street—I can go there when I like—a female named De Praney lives there—the has one half of the place, and I pay for my half—the is no business that I am aware of; she is not the person connected with me—I am frequently there—I hare not slept at my mother's for three weeks—I had slept there a few days before that.
ARCHIBALD M'KNIGHT . I am a merchant and iron agent. The prisoner came to me and said hit name was John Garrard—(Letter read: "Maidetone, May 15th. Gentlemen,—Please to forward at at your earliest convenience, one of your common chaff machines, at 5l., and one ditto at 6l. 10s.; send us mroice with lowest trade price, and wo will remit you the amount; let them be forwarded to the goods station at Paddington. We will give orders to our carrier to call for them. O. Watkins and Son. To the Agricultural Instrument Manufacturers, Reading.")
JOHN CARPENTER , (police sergeant, R 38). I have known the prisoner upwards of two years, by the name of John Gerrard—I was here at the Feb. sessions of this Court—the prisoner was here then before his Lordship.
(MR. PARRY submitted, that the way to prove that the prisoner was tried, was by producing the Record itself. The sentence, immediately it was passed, became a matter of record, and could only be so proved: at during a session a prisoner might be chatted back, and his sentence altered. MR. COCKLE observed that the record did not show who the person was that was tried, but that there must be same witness to prove it.)
COURT to JOHN CARPENTER? Q. Did you see him here on his trial? A. Yes; I do not know where he did go after his trial—i know where he was to go—I did not see him afterwards—I heard where his Lordship directed him to go.
MR. JAMES HEMP , examined by the COURT. The usual course of business at this Court, is to enter in the minute book the name of the party charged, the offence, the verdiet of the Jury, and the sentence pronounced by the Court—he sentence is carried out by a further order made from that minute.
Cross-examined. Q. Is there an indictment in Court from which the minute is made? A. Yes; it is found by the Grand Jury in the regular way, and a minutes is made on the indietment, of the sentence passed by the Court—a record is made, if required, by some party—parties apply for a record to be made for the purpose of a defence (the indiciment was sent for, and produced.)
MR. ALFRED WARDELL , examined by the COURT. It appears by the minutes of this Court, that at the February Session John Gerrard was convicted, and sentenced to three months—the minute was made by me in the usual way—he would be sent to Maidstone Gaol.
COURT to CARPENTER. Q. Where was the offence committed? A. At Charlton; there is no other gaol but Maidstone for that part of the county of Kent—the prisoner is the person named in that conviction.
GUILTY . Aged 40.— Transported for Ten Years.
(There were two other indictments against the prisoner.)
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 24th,1852.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. AREBROTHER; Mr. Ald. HOOPER; Sir JAMES DUKE, Bart., Ald.; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Seventh Jury.
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM CLARKE . I am a milkman, and live at St. Pancras-road, De Behavior-square. On 23rd Oct., between 7 o'clock and half-past in the evening, I was at the corner of the Englefield-road, in the Hertford-road, and saw the two prisoners there—I saw one of them pass something to the other, but I cannot say what it was—they were 100 yards from the Beckford Arms.
ALEXANDER DULGARNO . I am a potman. I was at the corner of the Hertford-road, between 7 and 8 o'clock, and saw the two prisoners about 100 yards from the Beck ford Arms—they were within arms' reach of each other—one of them passed something to the other, but I cannot say what it was.
MARIA STURGEON . I am housekeeper to Mr. Freek, who keeps the Beckford Arms. On 23rd Oct., Thompson came and asked for half a pint of beer; it came to 1d.—he gave me 1s., which I put in the till—there was only a half crown and three 4d. pieces in the till, no shillings—after he was gone, I took the shilling out, and found it was bad—no one had been to the till in the meantime; I had not left the bar—I showed it to Mr. Freek, he gave it me back, and I gave it to Mary Ann Elden.
Thompson. Q. You say no one went to the till; did not you tell the other young lady to give me change from the till? A. No.
MARY ANN ELDEN . I am barmaid at the Beckford Arms. On 23rd Oct. I saw Thompson standing drinking at the bar, and he said, "You have not given me my full change"—Mrs. Sturgeon said she had, and told me I had better give him 6d. to have no dispute about it—directly after he was gone James came in, and called for half a pint of porter, which came to 1d.—I served him; he gave me a shilling in payment, which I saw was bad, and told him so when he put it down—he said he was not aware of it, he was very sorry; he said his master gave it him—I asked him where he lived, he said in Southwark; I asked him where in Southwark, and he refused telling me—he asked in to break the shilling in half, and give it him again, but I would not—he was detained—I kept the shilling in my hand, showed it to Mr. Freek, and at last gave it to the constable, and also one which Mrs. Sturgeon had given me.
James. Q. What time was it? A. Between 7 and 8 o'clock—you gave me another shilling for the bad one.
custody at the corner of the Englefield-road, and took him to the Beckford Anns, where I found James detained by the potman—they were charged with uttering a bad shilling each—they said they had never seen each other before—I searched them, and found on Thompson one shilling, three sixpences, a 4d. piece, and 6d. in copper; and on James one shilling, three sixpences, a 4d. piece, and 1 3/4 d. in copper—Thompson said he bad no home, and James gave his address 51, Francis-street, Newington Butts; I went there, and could not hear anything of him—I received these two shillings (produced) from Elder.
James's Defence. I am a costermonger; I took the shilling on Saturday, and was going to see my mother, who lives at Dalston; I sent the right direction of where I live; I live with my sister, but the ground floor is let, and when the policeman inquired my name, being different to my sister's, they did not know it, as I had been there only a week.
JONES— GUILTY .** Aged 19.
THOMPSON— GUILTY .** Aged 22.
Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT WATT . I am a baker at Wood-place, Shepherd's Bush. On 21st Oct., about 11 o'clock, the prisoner came for a penny roll, and tendered a bad shilling—I told him it was bad; he said he was not aware of it—I asked where he got it; he said he got it in change for half a pint of beer—I asked him to show me the rest of the change, and he then said he got it for carrying a portmanteau for a gentleman—I detained him ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and would have given him into custody, but I could not see to officer—he asked me for the shilling, but I would not give it him—he went away, and four or five minutes after I saw an officer, and sent him after the prisoner—I marked the shilling, and gave it to the officer.
JOHN JONES (policeman, 210 T). I received this counterfeit shilling (produced) from Mr. Watt—in consequence of what he said I found the prisoner coming away from the gate of the White Horse, about 200 yards from Mr. Watts—I took him into custody, and found 3/4 d. on him, a knife, a piece of leather, and a small packet of tobacco done up in paper—I told him I took him for uttering a bad shilling—he said he had no bad money about him—I took him to the station, and a short time after Chalk brought me three half crowns and one shilling.
CHARLES CHALK . I am a painter. On 21st Oct. I was painting at the White Horse from 10 o'clock till ten minutes to 1, when I took my ladder into the garden, through the garden gate, which I found open—as I entered, I found a piece of paper lodged on the coping just inside the garden—I picked it up, and found it contained three half crowns and one shilling, wrapped up separately—they were bad—I had seen Jones take the prisoner into custody, and I took the money to Jones—I marked it—I had been through the gate at 10, and did not notice anything.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing of the money that was found.
GUILTY of uttering. Aged 24.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD OWSTON . I am fourteen years old; my mother keeps a public house in Fore-street. On 23rd Oct. the prisoners came together—Thompson called for a pint of beer and a pickwick—he gave me a shilling in payment, which I put in the till and gave him the change—there was no other shilling in the till—they drank their beer, went to the door, remained there about ten minutes, and then came back and had another pint of beer, for which Thompson paid 2d.—they then had a third pint of beer, for which Palmer paid me with a shilling—I had not change, and gave the shilling to my sister to get change—she took it out, and brought back some change—soon after she came in, while the prisoners were still at the bar, Mr. Carter, a neighbour, came in, and said the shilling my sister had brought was a bad one—he had it in his hand, and gave it to me—I put it on the engine, and then went to the till, took out the other shilling, gave it to Mr. Carter, and that turned out to be bad also—there was no other shilling but that in the till; no one had been to the till but myself—one of the prisoners, I believe Palmer, but am not certain which, took the shilling off the beer engine—a constable was sent for, and the prisoners were given into custody.
Palmer. Q. Did you take the shilling away to see if you had change before you sent your sister out? A. No; I swear the shilling Mr. Carter brought back was the same I had sent out—I know it by a cross on the edge.
EMILY OWSTON . I am nine years old. I was at my mother's public house on the 23rd—my brother gave me a shilling to get changed—I took it to Mr. Carter, and he gave me two sixpences for it, which I took back to my brother.
Palmer. Q. Did you see Mr. Carter lay it down when you gave it him? A. No.
ALFRED CARTER . I am a butcher, in Fore-street, next door to Mrs. Owston's. I remember the little girl coming to me for change on Saturday evening—I gave her two sixpences, and then took the shilling from her—she ran out directly—I looked at the shilling, found it was bad, and followed her directly into Mrs. Owston's, where I saw Edward Owston behind the bar and the prisoners in front—I said, "This is a bad shilling your sister brought me," and the boy said that man (pointing to Palmer) had given it him—when I said it was bad, Palmer said, "Is it?"—I gave the shilling to Edward Owston, and he put it on the beer engine and went to the till—Palmer then took the shilling off the engine, and said to Thompson, "You pay for this"—Owston then brought a shilling out of the till, and said, "Here is another that they gave me; is this good?"—I examined that, and found it was bad also—the boy said his mother was not at home, and a person named Sutton, who lodges in the house, was called down—the shilling taken from the till was then in my hand, and I gave it to Sutton.
JAMES SUTTON . On the 23rd I was called down by the little boy, and saw the prisoners in the house, and the boy said they had been passing two bad shillings—Palmer said, "Master, it is a bad job; we will pay you, and let us go"—I said I would not—I sent for the police, and gave one in custody to Rowe, and took the other myself—Carter gave me a shilling, which I gave to Rowe—an hour and a half afterwards I found a portion of a shilling, which had been broken, on the ground where Thompson had stood—I gave it to Rowe.
23rd Oct., and the prisoners were given into my charge—I received this shilling (produced) from Sutton—I had heard two shillings had been uttered—I asked where the other one was—Sutton said Thompson had it—I took hold of his hand, and took part of a shilling out of it, and I afterwards received the other part of a shilling from Sutton (produced)—I found 5d. good money on Palmer, and 1d. on Thompson.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . The whole shilling is a counterfeit, and the broken one also, and from the same mould as the other one—there is a mark on the side of one of them as if an instrument or a tooth had been applied to it.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY . Aged 26.— Confined Four Months.
(There was another indictment against the prisoner.)
ANN CRANE . I am the wife of Edward Crane. On 15th Nov., about 12 o'clock at night, I got out of an omnibus at the Mansion House—I had two half crowns, sixpence, threepence, two halfpence, and three farthings loose in my dress pocket behind me—I stopped to look at a fire, and the prisoner stood by my side—I had never seen her before, but am sure she is the person—I observed a pair of scissors drop down, which fell against my foot nearest the prisoner—I do not know where they fell from—I then put my hand to my pocket, and caught hold of the prisoner's hand, which was just going out of my pocket, and called out, "Oh, you have robbed me!"—I missed all my money from my pocket; there was only my handkerchief and a key left, and there was a hole cut tight through my pocket—this is it (showing it)—it has been cut—it was not so before; it was quite a new dress—the pocket is attached to my dress—I caught hold of the prisoner with both arms, and some gentleman by said, "Give up the woman the money," and he picked up the scissors, and asked who they belonged to—she gave me back some of the money—a policeman came up, and I gave her into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. Did she take all your money? A. Yes, except 3s., which were tied up in the corner of my handkerchief? and which did not belong to me—I had put them there before I left my husband, to take to a woman who lives in our house—the prisoner said the scissors did not belong to her—there was a crowd—she gave me back all the money but 6 3/4 d.—I know exactly what money I had when I went into the crowd.
WILLIAM HENRY FARNISH . On 15th Nov., about 12 o'clock at night, I was standing at the end of Lombard-Street, looking at a house on fire—I felt something fall between my legs, which I picked up, and it was a pair of scissors—I saw the prisoner right behind me—I turned round, and asked her whether the scissors belonged to her—she said they did not—I said, "They must belong to you, for there is no other person handy enough to throw them"—I then saw the prosecutrix, who was about a yard or not so much from me, and I heard her say she had robbed her, and she had got hold of the prisoner—the prosecutrix said if she gave up the money she would let
her go, and I persuaded the prisoner to do so to save further trouble—I then saw her pass something to the prosecutrix's hand, but did not see what it was—the officer then came up, and I gave him the scissors, and the prisoner was taken into custody.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner immediately behind you? A. Yes, and the prosecutrix on my left hand—I am a timber merchant, in business for myself, at Bow.
MARY ANN LEWIS . I search females at the Bow-lane station—I searched the prisoner, and found two half sovereigns and some silver and halfpence on her—as I was searching her a sixpence fell from some part of her dress.
GUILTY . Aged 30.— Confined Four Months.
GUILTY .** Aged 22.— Transported for Seven Years.
50. ALFRED BARRETT , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of George Cribb, and stealing 3 coats, his property; and 3 coats, 3 spoons, and 1 picture: the goods of James Flowers and another: to which he pleaded
GUILTY .* Aged 25.— Transported for Seven Years.
51. ISAAC LEWIS , embezzling 3l. 10s. 10d., 1l., and 1l. 6s. 3d.: also, 2l. 0s. 7d., 3l. 2s. 4d., and 1l. 14s. 9d.: also, 2l., 3l. 0s. 5d., and 1l. 11s. 9d.: also, 26l. 8s. 6d., and 25l. 1s.; the moneys of George Symes Peart, his master: to all of which he pleaded
GUILTY . Aged 32.— Confined Six Months.
MR. METCALFRE conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS PALMER . I am a sawyer, and live at Millwall, Poplar. I was present at the Registrar's office, at Bridgewater, in Sept., 1851, when the prisoner was married to Elizabeth Cook—they lived together for perhaps four months after—the wife is in Court now.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Did you know the wife at all? A. Yes; I have known her about fifteen years—I believe she is about twenty-three years old—I saw her at her house after her marriage—I have not been out with her—I do not know a person named Edward or Edwin Gooding; I know some persons named Gooding, but do not know their Christian names—the wife conducted herself properly after her marriage, I have heard so—I do not know whether she is prosecuting this case—her father is here.
SARAH HAILE . I live at 3, Steven's-street, Tottenham-court-road. I was married to the prisoner at St. James's, Westminster, on 5th Sept., 1852, and afterwards lived with him as his wife—he represented himself to be a single man.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you prosecuting this case? A. No—I said when I first heard of it that I would forgive him, if it was true, and give him up to his wife, and they showed me the certificate, and I saw he was a married man—I do not wish to press the matter; I freely forgive him the injury he has done me.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did not your brother give him into custody? A. Yes.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Was it by your authority? A. No.
THOMAS PRATT (policeman, A 311). I produce the two certificates—I compared them with the respective registers, at Bridgewater and St. James's, Westminster, and found them correct—(read). Mr. Ballantine called Thomas Hutchins. I live at Bridgewater. The prisoner was a workman of mine for fourteen months, and I have known him (or four years—h e is a respectably conducted young man—I have come up on purpose to give him a character—I do not know the first wife, and any particulars of the separation.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Do not you know that he has boasted of the bigamy, and said if this woman does not suit him he will shave off his whiskers, and get another? A. I never heard of such a thing.
GUILTY . Aged 26.— Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, November 25, 1852.
PRESENT—Mr. BARON; Mr. Ald. FAREBROTHER; Mr. Ald. SIDNEY; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Ald.; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Mr. Baron Alderson, and the First Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS STREET (policeman, B 65). On 16th Oct. I was on duty at Knightsbridge—about 12 o'clock at night, I was passing the Sir Joseph Paxton public house; the landlord was putting some civilians and soldiers outside—the prisoner's brother was having some words outside with somebody—I told them to move on, and went on after a short time—I returned, and saw a soldier, Thomas Pitt, being carried into a fish-shop, in consequence of which I went after the prisoner, and took him in a pie-shop in Knightsbridge—he asked me if I wanted him for the assault on the soldier—I told him I did—he said, "I struck the soldier in the eye with my fist, but I did not throw any stone—it was not me, it was Joe Holborn"—there is a man of that name.
WILLIAM OSMAN . I am a carpenter, and live at I, Ritchies'-place, Brompton. On 16th Oct., I was close by the Sir Joseph Paxton public house;. about 12 o'clock, or a quarter past—I saw the prisoner opposite the Brown Bear, which is very nearly opposite the Sir Joseph Paxton, he was standing on the pavement—I was on the opposite side, and heard a bit of a disturbance—some civilians were having some words with themselves, about fifteen yards from some soldiers—the prisoner picked up a stone from the broken stones on the Macadamized road, and put it in his handkerchief—he then took it out again, put his handkerchief round his neck, and threw the stone at a soldier—the moment the stone was delivered the soldier fell, it was Pitt—I am quite certain the prisoner is the man that did it.
friends in the same regiment were with me—I did not see the prisoner thereafter a time I and my companions left the house to go home—I received a blow in the eye in the street, and fell—I rose up again, and fell again—I was taken to the hospital, and have lost my sight; my eye is entirely gone—I only received one blow, there was blood on my cheek and eye.
Cross-examined by MR. COCKLE. Q. You have had no quarrel with the prisoner? A. No; I know nothing of him.
THOMAS THOMPSON . I am house surgeon of St. George's Hospital. Pitt was brought there with his eyeball very prominent, and completely filled with blood, which was caused by the rupture of vessels internally from the concussion of the stone; there was a slight abrasion in the external folds of the eyelid—he has lost his eye—a stone would produce the wound I saw.
Cross-examined. Q. If a stone had struck it with, such violence, should you not expect to find a cut? A. There was a slight cut; an abrasion, not such as would be produced by a rub—I should not have expected to have seen more of a wound or cut—I attribute the effusion from the vessels to the direct concussion of the stone—there was no distinct cut on the eye—blood was coming from all those surfaces which contain vessels—that was the result of the concussion, not of inflammation.
MR. COOPER. Q. You would say that the eye was crushed by the stone? A. Yes—the shock to the eye was such that many of the vessels would be ruptured—the iris was of a vermillion red.
WILLIAM OSBORNE Cross-examined by MR. COCKLE. Q. How long a time elapsed from the time the prisoner put the stone into the handkerchief and t he time the stone was thrown? A. It exceeded five minutes—the prisoner remained on the spot all that time, and I stood close by him—there were a great many stones lying in the road—I am not aware that I have said that a man named Holborn picked up a stone and threw it; I only saw one person pick up a stone and throw it, and that was the prisoner—I saw no other stones thrown—I saw no quarrel or disturbance.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Confined One Year.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, Nov. 25th, 1852.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HOOPER; Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Ald.; and Mr. Ald. CUBITT.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Sixth Jury.
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH FACEY ORTON . I am the wife of Richard Orton. On the evening of 2nd Oct. we were removing our goods from Princes-terrace, Islington—they had been distrained on—the prisoner was a lodger in the same house—while we were removing, the prisoner struck my husband with an umbrella—I went up to him, and said if he still thought my husband was guilty, to fetch an officer and give him into custody—my husband had been charged with improper conduct to Gill's daughter—I had heard of that a fortnight previous—when I went to the prisoner, and begged him to send for an officer and give him into custody, he said he would not hurt me, but my husband he would have—my husband went up to our room, upstairs, and I called to him to lock himself in—Gill struck me on the stairs with his hand on the side of the
head—I think, to the best of my recollection, it was like a smack on the face—Gill then went upstairs, and endeavoured to break open the door of the room where my husband was, with a poker—I begged him not to do it, not to take the law in his own hands—he took a candle and candlestick, and struck my little girl with the candlestick on the eyebrow—I caught his arm—had I not been able to catch his arm, the blow would have been serious—the child was on the first or second stair of our own stairs—he struck her with the candlestick, and, seeing the blood, I screamed, "Murder!" violently; on which the prisoner struck me on the right side of the head—he struck me on the left before—I had wrenched the candlestick out of his hand—Mr. Wilkinson, the surgeon, dressed the child's wound, and sewed it up.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. The prisoner said be would have your husband? A. Yes; my husband did not take a shovel to defend himself, or a poker—I never saw him take anything of the kind—my husband had been charged with indecently assaulting Mr. Gill's child—I had heard before of the charge, that Mr. Gill's child had alleged that my husband had indecently used her—Mr. Hillier, the greengrocer, had told Mrs. Gill of it—the prisoner had heard this, and he was very much excited with my husband; but a fortnight had elapsed—that night fortnight he had struck my husband violently—he came into the kitchen, and my husband asked him to take a seat, and reason with him—there was very great excitement—on this occasion my husband was actually moving away when Mr. Gill came in—the charge made against my husband by Mr. Gill's daughter was for indecently assaulting her—I believe she is thirteen years old—the charge was made before the Magistrate, and dismissed by him.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. This had occurred a fortnight before; how soon afterwards was the charge investigated before the Magistrate? A. They were both given in charge the same night; on the Monday Mr. Hillier informed Mrs. Gill concerning my husband and her daughter—Mr. Gill was out, and did not return till the Saturday—on the Saturday Mrs. Gill told Mr. Gill what Mr. Hillier had said; and when my husband came home, Mr. Gill came, and my husband told him, if he would not listen to him, to fetch an officer, for he was not guilty; and myself and the other lodgers got Mr. Gill to leave the kitchen, and not take the law in his own hands—my husband went to work, and it went on till that Saturday fortnight, when Mr. Gill came and struck my husband.
COURT. Q. When did they go before the Magistrate? A. They were both taken in charge the same night, the same Saturday night that this occurred.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Till Mr. Gill was given into custody, was there any charge made before the Magistrate for assaulting the child? A. No; and having been taken, the charge was dismissed.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner bring his daughter to you for examination? Q. Yes, on 18th Sept.; I examined her, and found her parts perfectly healthy—I asked her some questions—she made a statement to me.
LOUISA MELTON . I live in Victoria-street, Islington. On 2nd Oct. I was in the Chalk-road, and heard screams of "Murder!"—I and another person went into the house—I saw the prisoner standing against the door of the first floor back room, with a candle in his hand—his wife was giving him the candlestick—he took the candle and dropped the candlestick, and it hit the child and cut her eye—the child was standing under Mr. Gill, near the bottom of the stairs—it was between his legs as he was stooping—it was
holding its face up to look at Mr. Gill—the child was getting up—Mr. Gill was rushing in the door with the knob of a fire shovel—he was knocking the panels in with the large knob of the shovel—he had the knob in his right hand, and the shovel pan in his left—he took the candle in his left hand, and Mrs. Gill thought he had taken the candlestick, and it dropped—when I first saw the child getting up, there was no blood on her, not till the candlestick dropped—the prisoner did not say anything then—after the child was taken downstairs, he finished the other part of the door with the shovel—I said to Mr. Orton, "Come out now;" and the prisoner up with the shovel and struck the child.
COURT. Q. You saw him breaking the door? A. Yes; he sent half the door in, and then he put in the other panel—I put my hand through the panel and said, "Orton, come out now; you had better make your escape, Gill can't get at you now, for some men are holding him"—there were three or four men holding him—the little boy was standing near the door, and the prisoner said, "Never mind, if I can't get the one I want, here is one that will do as well;" and when he said that he made a blow, and struck the child with the knob of the shovel, as the child was standing—it caught him right in the left eye—I saw something black come from the child's eye—I took the child up, and went down and asked the baker downstairs to come with me to the doctor—it was a black fluid that came from the child's eye—I do not know whether the child was senseless—it never made the least noise at all; it neither cried, nor anything—I carried it to the bottom of the stairs; I saw a man and I said, "Will you be so kind as to take this child to the doctor?"—he said, "I won't go without you go with me;" and I did go with him across to Mr. Wilkinson's.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. What did the prisoner do to Mrs. Orton? A. She was lying on the stairs when I came up; I saw Mrs. Gill give the candlestick to Mr. Gill, and he dropped the candlestick.
COURT. Q. Did you see the prisoner do anything with a brass candle stick? A. No further than I saw him drop it—my name is Louisa Melton—I am giving the same account now as I have before.
Q. Be cautious, you are in great danger; did you not see the prisoner do something with a brass candlestick? A. No further than drop the candlestick, and it hit the child.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Was not Mrs. Orton thrown down before? A. Yes; but that was before I got there—I was not there then; Mrs. Orton was by herself then.
COURT. Q. Did you make your mark to your deposition? A. Yes; it was not read over to me, as I know of—if it was, there was such a flurry, some going one way and some another, I do not know—this is my mark.
Q. Now I ask you, you picked up the child, did its eye seem knocked out? A. Yes; I did not see the defendant throw Mrs. Orton from the room door down the stairs—I saw her wrestling with him, and saying, "Pray Mr. Gill don't!"
Q. Did you say, "I saw the defendant throw Mrs. Orton from the room door down a flight of stairs"? A. No, sir.
Q. Now, I give you one more caution; did you see the prisoner strike Mrs. Orton with a brass candlestick on the right temple? A. Yes, I saw that; but that was with the brass candlestick.
RICHARD ORTON . I am the husband of Sarah Facey Orton, and the father of these children. I know the prisoner at the bar—he has a daughter; I have never committed any act of indecency with that daughter, or done any act to injure her; none whatever.
Cross-examined. Q. I think you were moving away on that evening? A. Yes; the defendant came up and struck me with an umbrella—I did not hear him call me a d—d scoundrel—I did not take up a poker to defend myself, I took a poker from the passage—I did not strike him with the poker on his left arm, most decidedly not—his arm was examined in the police court, but I never saw any bruises on it—I mean to say that I did not strike him—I ran upstairs, and locked myself in my own room—I did not strike a blow with the poker, most decidedly not.
FREDERICK LANE . I am surgeon of the Royal Free Hospital. I examined this little boy; he had a wound about half an inch long on the upper part of the left eye, which appeared to be recently inflicted—it had wounded the iris, and extended to the interior portion of the eye; he has lost the sight of the eye for ever—an operation might be performed, but it is not deemed advisable when the sight of the other eye is good; it might injure the other eye, and the operation might not be successful—the lower lid of the eye was also cut.
MR. PARRY called
MARY ANN GILL . I am the daughter of the prisoner. I am twelve years old—I know Mr. Orton, who lodged in the house—I remember my father coming home from the country about the middle of Sept.; I did not make a complaint to him or to my mother; I had not made a complaint to my mother before then—Mr. Hillier had—I did not make any complaint to my mother, till my mother found it out—after she found it out, I told her what I knew about Mr. Orton—that was about the middle of Sept.—I complained to my mother that Mr. Orton had indecently assaulted me more than once—I went to the surgeon.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Did you make any communication to your mother or father till somebody bad spoken to them? A. No.
THOMAS HILLIER . I am a fruiterer and greengrocer. Mr. Gill and Mr. Orton lodged with me—I made a complaint to Mrs. Gill in reference to Mr. Orton and Mrs. Gill's daughter—I remember Mr. Gill returning from the country on the 18th of Sept.; in consequence of the communication I had made to the mother of the child, some inquiries were made by the father—I am sure it was about that time that Mr. Gill became cognizant of the circumstance—I remember Mr. Orton moving—I was standing at my own door—I remember Mr. Gill coming up—Mr. Orton was putting something in the cart, and Mr. Gill hit him on the hat with an umbrella—Mr. Orton walked round the cart, went into the passage and brought a poker to the door—Mr. Gill was going towards him, and Mrs. Orton laid hold of Mr. Gill by the collar, and begged him to do nothing—Gill went into the passage, and Mr. Orton struck him with the poker just on the stairs as he was going upstairs—he struck at his head, and he put up his arm, and caught the blow on his arm—he struck him, and cut his lip—Mr. Gill's arm was shown at the police court, it was black and blue for days afterwards—it was more black underneath than at top where he received the blow—it was examined before the Magistrate, but I did not see it—it was from what I myself observed that I spoke to Mrs. Gill—I saw it myself.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you tell anything to Mrs. Gill? A. This happened on Wednesday or Thursday—I cannot exactly say what day of the month—I told Mrs. Gill on the Monday as I saw it on the Wednesday or Thursday night—I did not tell her immediately, I did not like to say anything about it then—Mr. Gill was in the country when I told her—I think
he came home on the Saturday night—I have been here before, in Dowries' case, for robbing me—I was the prosecutor—Mrs. Orton and I have had a good many words at times—I do not know that she has accused me of interfering with her husband, only since this case—I will not swear that we have not had quarrels; I do not think we have—I keep the house—Orton's were in debt for rent—I put the distress in—before I put the distress in Mrs. Gill said she would not stop in the house where Orton's were—I did not tell Mr. or Mrs. Gill that I was going to put the distress in—I said to Mrs. Gill that they should go as soon as I could get rid of them.
MR. PARRY. Q. When Mrs. Gill said she would not live in the same house with them, was that after you had communicated to her about her child? A. Yes; I said they should go, because every time Mrs. Orton came out of her side door she used to insult me—they owed me six or seven weeks' rent—I got my rent at last, except one week, which is owing now—I had no serious quarrel with Mrs. Orton till this matter happened.
COURT. Q. In what way did she insult you? A. I wished her out of the house, and she said she would go when she pleased—she upset me—she did not exactly complain of what I had told Mrs. Gill.
HANNAH BRIDGET . I live in the front kitchen of that house. I did not see Mr. Gill strike Mr. Orton with the umbrella—I saw Mr. Orton come in at the front door, and take up a poker—they were moving at the time, and there was a fender and fire irons placed in the passage—he came round to the front door, and said, "The villain, I will do for him"—Mr. Gill quickly followed Mr. Orton when he came in—I did not see any blow with the poker.
COURT. Q. Were you in the kitchen? A. No; at the top of the kitchen stairs—Mr. Orton went upstairs, and Mr. Gill followed him—Mr. Gill did not strike Mr. Orton in the passage—I saw Mr. Gill's arm afterwards, which was very black.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY .— Confined Eight Months.
MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LEES . I am a grocer, and live at No. 72, Bishopsgate-street-within. The prisoner was my travelling clerk and collector—he was paid a salary, and some commission—he was authorized to receive money on my account, and he was to pay it in the same day—here are some of my way bills—he took out one of them every morning—it contains the names of the customers, the goods delivered to each, and he had to fill up the vacant column with the amount received from each customer—when he came back at night he was to make a total, and hand it to me, or to a clerk—it was entered in the cash book in the usual way, and credit given to the customer.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. I believe that was not always done? A. It was, with the exception of twice or thrice—he accounted to me or Mr. Bowman, the clerk, or Mr. Blake, who are both here—there were no other parties to whom he ought to account—he has accounted to Mr. Carmichael, who is a counter man, but it was not his duty to account to him—it was when he was excessively late, or came in in a state of drunkenness—it was wished that he should come home at seven o'clock, as we close early, but it was invariably from nine to half past ten when he returned—it was his duty to obtain fresh orders—he brought me fresh customers—they were all, in point of fact, fresh to me—I obtained the business from Mr. Robertson—there
might be 200 or 250 customers—here are all the way bills relating to this transaction—on the Thursday before the prisoner was apprehended he paid me 10l.—he did not pay it to the general account—he had never paid it in that way; we should not have received it—there was a commission acconnt unsettled when he left of 3l. or 4l.—his commission was on tea and coffee above a certain price, and his salary 1l. 3s. a week.
MARY ANN WRIGHT . I live in Church-street, Deptford, and am a general shopkeeper. I have an account with Mr. Lees—on 12th Aug. I received goods of the prisoner to the amount of 1l. 3s. 6d.—I paid him, and he receipted the bill, this is it—on 26th Aug. he brought goods to the amount of 15s. 5d.—I paid for them, and he receipted the bill—on 16th Sept. he brought goods to the amount of 1l. 18s. 8d.—I paid him, and he receipted the bill.
WILLIAM BOWMAN . I am clerk to Mr. Lees. It was my duty to make out the way bills and invoices, and receive money—it would be the prisoner's duty to place the three sums received from Mrs. Wright in the way bills, and hand them to me if it was in my time—I went there on 1st Oct.—I have looked through the way bills, and these sums are not entered in them.
COURT. Q. Have you gone through the whole of the way bills? A. Yes—I do not find any sum of 1l. 3s. 6d. on the 12th Aug.—here is a way bill of 9th Sept., in which 15s. 5d. appears to have been received from Mrs. Wright—there are two amounts of 15s. 5d.; this one of Sept. 9th was to be applied to Aug. 26th, but I applied it to Sept. 23rd in error—the 1l. 18l. 8d. on 26th Sept. does not appear anywhere in the way bills—this 10l. was supposed to be for goods taken out—I understood him to say he would bring the way bill in the morning.
Cross-examined. Q. What time of the day did he pay you the 10l.? A. I cannot tell whether it was morning or the evening—he only makes his appearance in the morning and evening—I did not understand him to pay that 10l. on account, without saying to what account it was to be appropriated—this way bill was found on the prisoner after he was taken—he did not return this way bill—I believe he paid this 10l. on the morning of the 5th—I made this entry of it at the time.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did he ever account to you for the 1l. 3s. 6d. or the 1l. 18s. 8d.? A. No; Mr. Blake was clerk before me.
BLAKE. He has never accounted to me for either of these two sums; for the 1l. 3s. 6d. on 12th Aug., or the 1l. 18s. 8d. on 16th Sept.
MR. PARRY to MR. LEES. Q. Did you take this business from Mr. Robertson? A. Yes—the prisoner was in his employ about six months—I did not receive a character of him from any other person—he was introduced to me as knowing the business, and I employed him accordingly.
COURT to WILLIAM BOWMAN. Q. Were you in the habit of receiving sums like this 10l. from the prisoner without comparing it with the way bill. A. No; I think the prisoner did not come again after the payment of this 10l.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY . Aged 37.— Confined Six Months.
59. CHRISTIAN GAUL , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Thomas Hall, and stealing I coat, value 1l., his property; and I coat, and other articles, value 1l. 1s.; the property of Robert Devereux Hall.
(The prisoner being a German had the evidence explained by an interpreter.)
ROBERT CHITTY (policeman, H 16). On Tuesday morning last, at half past 2 o'clock, I met the prisoner in Dock-street, Whitechapel—I asked him what he had under his blouse—he said, "My coat"—I asked him where he got it—he made some answer, which I did not understand—I lifted up his blouse, and took from under it these two Mackintoshes—I took him to the station—these have since been owned by Mr. Hall.
Prisoner. I told him I found these coats, but I could not understand him, nor he me.
ROBERT DEVEREUX HALL . I live in Whitechapel-road. This coat is my father's—this other is mine—I know it by its being chafed under the left arm, it lets the water in—I had had it about three weeks—my father's coat was hanging in the counting house, and mine was on the kitchen stairs, on the ground floor—I saw them safe at ten minutes to 10 o'clock on the Monday night—the shop was then all shut up and fast—I went to bed a little after 11—I saw the window of the counting house, which looks into the yard, was shut—I cannot say whether the sash fastening was on—I was awoke about half past 2 by three policemen, who were in the house—I came down, and found the shop door wide open—the lower part of the counting house window was up about twenty inches, large enough for a man to get through—if a man got through there he would be where one of these coats was, and the other was on the same floor—there is no way from the street to the back yard, into which the window of the counting house opens—on one side of the yard is a wall at least eleven feet high—on the other side of the wall is a large garden—on the other side of the yard is a wooden fence between the yard and the people who live next door—the house was not broken into by the street door; it was broken out of—there was just one mark perceptible on the wooden sill of the window—this pair of gloves and knife, which were found in the coat pocket, are mine.
Prisoner. I am innocent; I found the coats; I did not search the pockets; I had staid till 12 o'clock in a house where I had some provisions, because I had had nothing to eat all day.
NOT GUILTY .
(The prisoner being a Mexican the evidence was explained by an interpreter.)
BENJAMIN BELLHOUSE . I am a grocer, and live in Queen-street, Towerhill. On 22nd Nov. I went to bed about half past 11 o'clock—I and my wife went to bed together—we were the last persons up in the house—the house was then safe—the back parlour window was shut up, but I will not say whether the catch was fast or not—about half past four in the morning I and ray wife were awoke—I laid a little longer—I then put my arm round towards my drawers, and I put my hand on a man's arm—I seized hold of him, and said, "I have got a thief!" and I told my wife to get a light—the man got from my grasp, and got under the bed—it was dark all this time—my wife got a light, and the first sight I saw was the prisoner lying all his length under the bed—I armed myself with the poker, and got under the bed and seized him—I held him till my child got a policeman—when I first laid hold of the prisoner he was at the drawer—I felt the drawer open—I reached
out my other arm, and seized his other arm, and he and I, and the drawer, all came down together—I missed two syringes and two cravats out of the drawer, and two sixpences, two 4d. pieces, and two 3d. pieces, out of my trowsers pocket; they were found on the prisoner—the parlour window of my house was open large enough for a man to get in—there bad been some currants in a sieve in my back parlour, and they were found on the top of a party wall, and 5s. worth of halfpence was taken from the top of the drawers in my room—they were found on the wall with the currants—he must have been in my house some time to have taken the halfpence out of the room, and taken them to the wall, and come back again—he had come over five yards before he came to mine—his shoes were found there, and two saveloys.
FRANCIS KELLY (policeman, H 130). I took the prisoner into custody—I found on him this purse, containing two sixpences, two 4d. pieces, two 3d. pieces, and 4d. in copper—I also found on him this syringe.
Prisoner's Defence. I was deficient of clothes and money; the ship that I belonged to went away; I was tempted to do this in consequence of want.
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Four Months.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 25th, 1852.
PRESENT—Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; Mr. Ald. WIRE; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant, and the Seventh Jury.
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Six Months.
JONES pleaded GUILTY . Aged 18.— Transported for Seven Years.
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN PLANE . I am a widow, and live at 19, Cannon-street-road, St. George's in the East. On Sunday night, 31st Oct., I fattened up my house, and went to bed—about 2 o'clock on the Monday morning I was alarmed by some noise, opened the window, and saw some policemen getting over the back part of the premises, and saw them take one man into custody in the yard—the spoons produced by the officer are mine—I left them on the dresser in the kitchen the night before—they are German silver.
JONATHAN NEWMAN (policeman, H 71). About 2 o'clock, on this Monday morning, I looked over Mrs. Plane's wall, and saw Collins taken into custody, out of the water closet, by another policeman—I went into the house, and took Jones out of a bed in the back parlour—he was lying between the bed and mattress—I found the back kitchen window open—at the station, Jones said, "We made a mistake in the house; we got into the wrong house"—the next house is a watchmaker's.
JOHN GODDARD (policeman, H 222). About 2 o'clock, on this Monday morning, I saw the three prisoners together in Cannon-street-road—they crossed over towards Shorter-street, the corner of which is three doors from Mrs. Plane's—I saw Collins and Jones get over the wall at the side—Martin
stood about eight yards from the corner, on the look-out, while they got over, and said, "All right," and assisted the one that got over second, but I cannot say which that was—I have no doubt the prisoners are the same three persons; they were not out of my sight—when Martin had said, "All right," he stood back a little, made a cough, and said, "Do so when you are ready"—some other policemen then came up, and I took Martin into custody at the corner—he had not got over the wall at all—he was the worse for liquor, but not so bad as he wanted to make out—he pretended to be sick—at the station, Jones said, "We made a mistake in the house"—I did not go into Mrs. Plane's house at all.
Collins. Q. Why did not you stop us when you saw us getting over the wall? A. Because I had not sufficient assistance.
JOSEPH NICHOLIS (policeman, K 210). I came to Goddard's assistance; went over Mrs. Plane's wall, and found Collins in the water closet—I asked what he did there—he said he came there to sleep—I had previously seen all three prisoners together at the corner of Cannon-street—I found a pair of boots on Mrs. Plane's wall, which Jones claimed at the station, and he had none on.
WILLIAM HENRY MASKELL (policeman, A 403). After the prisoners were taken, I went into Mrs. Plane's house, and found the window open—I found a cord jacket, a waistcoat, a cap, and a lucifer match, the end of which was burnt, and also three spoons lying on the window ledge—in the front parlour I found the shutter thrown up, and a lucifer match lying down by the window.
COLLINS— GUILTY . Aged 21.
MARTIN— GUILTY . Aged 20.
Transported for Seven Years
MARY ANN ROGERS . I am the wife of James Rogers. On 19th Nov., about a quarter to 3 o'clock, I was walking in Fleet-street—I felt a pull at my pocket, looked round immediately, and saw the prisoner close beside me—there was a man close by, who pushed me, which made me stumble—he appeared to be with the prisoner—I recovered myself, ran after the prisoner, and seized him—I missed my purse, which contained 7s. 6d., from my pocket—I had had it safe five minutes before—this is it (produced)—I seized the prisoner, and said, "You have got my purse"—he said he had not—I insisted that he had; and he took it from his pocket, and held it in his hand—I afterwards saw a lady pick it up, and she gave it to me.
JAMES BRISTOW (policeman, M 100). I took the prisoner, and told him he was charged with stealing a purse—he did not say anything—the prosecutrix gave me the purse produced—it contains two half crowns, two shillings, and a sixpence.
Prisoner's Defence. I was stopped, and accused of having the purse; I was searched, and no purse found; that is all I know about it.
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Six Months.
64. SAMUEL MICHALLIS and JACOB HYAMS , stealing 216 yards of lace, 56 yards of cloth, and other articles, value 19l. 5s. 6d.: also, 3 bundles of leather, 16 yards of velvet, and other articles, value 2l.; the goods of Alfred Baumun, the master of Michallis: to both of which
MICHALLIS pleaded GUILTY . Aged 38.—HYAMS pleaded GUILTY. Aged 41.—They were both recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor, and received good characters. — Confined Twelve Months.
MR. WOOLLEFF conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM EAST . I am a French polisher, and live at 81, Leonard-street, Shoreditch. On 1st Nov., about half past 2 o'clock in the morning, I was passing down Holy well-lane, Shoreditch, in company with a friend—I had been drinking with some friends, and was not exactly sober—we saw a public-house open, and went in, and had some spirits—I remained there with my friend a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—as I was coming out, the prisoner was standing with his back against the door, and I pulled out my watch to see the time—it was then 20 minutes past 2—I went out at the door, leaving my friend inside, talking to a female—I crossed the road, and the prisoner came, pushed me by the side of my shoulder, and I fell down—I do not know whether he struck me, or only pushed me—he went down with me, and before I got up again there was a policeman at my side, and I missed my watch—the prisoner was brought to me in lest than two minutes, and I recognised him as the man immediately.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. You say you were not quite sober, were you not a long way from it? A. I had had several glasses of drink—there were several ladies where I had been drinking—I cannot say the number—I had been with them since 6 o'clock In the evening—I was quite sober at—I drank with about three of the ladies—there were six of us in company, and we had three glasses of brandy and water, and I had nothing afterwards but a pint of half and half, till I got to this public house, where me and my friend had two sixpenny worths of gin and water, and three or four females drank from it, but I did not know them—that was all I drank—I bad not been out on the spree—the females I had drank with before going to this public house were my own friends, married ladies—one was the wife of a person who had employed me several years—I was in three public houses—when I was picked up, out of the road, I fell down again—I was not entirely lifted up, only partially—the prisoner picked me up—I only fell that time—my clothes were all mud on one side—I do not recollect ever falling when I have been drunk, before—I generally manage to walk home—I did not say that one of the girls had taken my watch—I cannot recollect that I was supported against the shutters of a house.
Q. Did you hear one of the girls, the strangers, say, "I won't be took for it," and away she went? A. I did not; the policeman did.
JOHN HITCHCOCK (policeman, G 28). About 3 o'clock on the morning of Monday, 1st Nov., I was on duty in Holy well-lane, and as I was coming out of a court I saw the prisoner knock the prosecutor over the shoulder with his fist, and knock him down—I made the best of ray way to him, and before I got up the prisoner set him on Ms legs again, and ran away, and before I could get to him he was stopped by another constable—the prosecutor was not sober, but knew what he was about—I was present when the prisoner was brought back—there was a prostitute standing by—I did not hear her say, "I won't be taken for it.
Cross-examined. He gave him a blow with his fist? A. Yes; I was about ten yards off.
GEORGE MATTHEWS (policeman, G 86). I saw the prisoner running and stopped him—he said, "I have done nothing"—I took him to the prosecutor, and he said, "That is the man who knocked me down"—the prisoner said, "I did not knock you down; I picked you up, and set you on your egs."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN WOOD . I am clerk and messenger to Mr. Rotch, barrister and magistrate, of Furnival's-inn. On Wednesday, 17th of Nov., about half-past 10 o'clock, I saw the prisoner going up the stairs to the next floor to where Mr. Rotch's chambers are—he had a letter in his hand, and a bag on his back—I went up to my room and missed some jackets, trowsers, waistcoats, and other articles, which were safe when I got up in the morning—I then went to the beadle of the Inn; found the prisoner in his custody, with the bag I had seen him with, and which contained my clothes—these (produced) are them—the bag is not mine.
Cross-examined by MR. DEARSLEY. Q. When you first saw the prisoner, was he on the same landing as your chambers? A. No, he was higher up—a gentleman came and knocked at Mr. Rotch's door, and I was taking in his card when the prisoner came down, and I heard him say, "Very good, I will meet you at 10 to-morrow morning," as if he was speaking to some one on the next landing—I did not bear any one make any answer, and I did not see any one.
MR. SLEIGIH. Q. When the prisoner said that, how far was he from you? A. About seven steps up—I could see up to the next landing—there was no one there.
RICHARD PEACOCK . I am beadle of Furnival's Inn. I saw the prisoner going through the gateway into Holborn with a bag—I stopped him, and inquired from whom he brought the bag or the things in it—he said he brought them from Mr. Warden—I knew there was not such a name in the Inn, and asked him who he was; he pointed round the corner to where Mr. Rotch's chambers are—I detained him till Wood came up, and told me he had been robbed of his clothes—I said "then open that bag"—he opened the prisoner's bag, and found the things there—the prisoner did not make any resistance, but offered me 3l. to let him go.
WILLIAM M'MATH (City-policeman, 77). I took the prisoner into custody, and received these things—I searched him at the station, and found three sovereigns, 6d., 4d., 1d., and ten keys, which I at first thought were skeleton keys, but I believe they are what are called Bramah keys, which are more dangerous—I also found a watch on him, which has been given up to him.
JOHN WOOD re-examined. The bedroom was usually locked, but I left it open to give it a little airing—about twenty minutes elapsed from the time I went into the chambers till I saw the prisoner coming down—he was half up the flight of stairs above Mr. Rotch's chambers, which are on the first floor, and my room is on the filth floor.
GUILTY .—Aged 19.
He was further charged with having been before convicted.
Confined Three Months.")—I was present—the prisoner it the same person—I knew him two years before.
GUILTY. Aged 19.— Transported for Seven Years.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant, and the Second Jury.
MESSRS. PARRY and ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
JENKYN DAVIES . I am a licensed victualler, at 107, Wood-street. On Wednesday, 3rd Nov., the prisoner came to my house—I had known him only for a few days previous—he asked me to change this check for htm; I told him it was not convenient for me to do so—he then asked me to let him have 4l. or 5l. on the check, as he could not go to the bank, and he wanted to pay his men, and he produced this check from his pocket, and handed it to me—(read—"10l. London, Nov. 3, 1852. Please to pay to Mr. Bingley, or his order, the sum of 10l., and place it to my account. William Jackson. To Messrs. Drommonds and Co., Charing Cross.")—I advanced him 5l. on it, believing it to be a genuine check, and he promised at the same time to redeem it on the following Monday—he did not redeem it on the Monday, and consequently I went to Drummonds on the Tuesday, but did not get the check changed—on my way back I called on the prisoner at 109, Wood-street, where he had taken a warehouse—I saw him, and he said he had had a letter to say that Jackson was gone to Australia, but he would send me the 5l. in a day or two—he did not pay me, and about 13th Nov., a Thursday, I went to Camden Town, where I saw him—he begged of me to let him have a day or two longer, and cried, and begged of me not to injure him, and he would pay me the money in a day or two—I gave him till the Saturday, when he said he would pay me between 12 and 2 o'clock—on the Saturday I gave him into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. DEARSEY. Q. Had not you known him since September? A. No; I had only seen him for a few days previous to this, since he had taken this place—he came to me in his right name—I do not know that he is the son of Major Bingley—I have ascertained that Bingley is his real name—when he told me Jackson had gone to Australia, he had a letter in his hand, but I did not ask to see it—he said he had received a letter to say that Jackson bad gone to Australia.
JOHN CHARLES COX . I am a cashier at Messrs. Drummonds. I know nothing of the prisoner—he has no account at our house—I do not know of any person named Jackson having an account at our bank—it is my duty to make myself acquainted with the signatures of the different customers—this is not the signature of any of them.
Cross-examined. Q. Are your customers' names entered in a book? A. Yes; I have examined them for some years back.
JOHN MARK BULL (City policeman, 151). The prisoner was given into my custody at a public house in Camden Town—he asked me to allow him to settle the affair with the prosecutor—I said I would not allow it—I asked him where I could find Jackson, mentioned in the check—he said he had sailed for Australia.
GEORGE ANSON . I am a carver and gilder, at 8, Little Camden-street, Camden Town. I have known the prisoner between three and four months, and have seen him write a dozen times at least—I should say the whole of this check is in his writing—he has lived some time in Agar-street, not far
from where I live, and I have had communication with him about some apartments he wanted to take of my mother.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to say you have seen him write twelve times? A. Yes, that is the least; sometimes with pencil, and sometimes with ink.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Has he done writing for you at your request? A. He has.
MARY ANN LYDALL . I am the wife of John Edward Lydall, of Camden-own, a clerk in the Birmingham Railway. I have known the prisoner five years, and am acquainted with his writing—I believe this check is his writing.
Cross-examined. Q. Who was it asked you to come and give evidence against the prisoner? A. The officer; my husband compelled me to come—a child has been taken away from me by my husband on Friday night—this case had been before the Magistrate on the Monday previous—I have seen my child for a little time since, but I was told I should not have it again unless I came here and said it was Mr. Bingley's writing; but I knew it was his writing.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Who told you to say that? A. The officer came, and asked me if I knew his writing—I said I did, and I did; but I should not have said I did, if J bad known what it was for—the officer showed me the check—I said I thought the upper part was his writing, but not the signature—the signature is very like his writing, but the upper part I feel confident about—I told the officer so at the time—the child was not gone then—I was reluctant to come and give evidence against the prisoner—my husband came home the worse for drink, and took the child and said unless I let her go he would take her by force—the child was taken from me on the Friday night, and I went before the police court on the following Monday—my feelings are rather in favour of the prisoner.
COURT. Q. Who was it told you if you did not come and speak to the writing you should not see your child? A. My husband.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT—Friday, November 26th, 1852.
PRESENT—Mr. BARON ALDERSON; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Ald.; and Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE.
Before Mr. Baron Alderson and the Fourth Jury.
68. JOHN COOPER , breaking and entering the shop of William Coomber Hooper Hood, and others, and stealing therein 6 pieces of paper, value 1d.; 82l. 6s., in money; 1 box, 42 spoons, 42 forks, and other articles, value 40l.; the property of William Coomber Hooper Hood, and others, his masters.
MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM COOMBER HOOPER HOOD . I am in partnership with two other gentlemen as stationers and booksellers, in Ave Maria-lane; we carry on business under the old firm of Whittaker and Co., and occupy 13, 14, 15, and 16, Stationers'-court; 13, 14, and 15, are warehouses, and are in the parish of St Martin Ludgate. The prisoner has been in tour service, I believe, about fifteen years; his wages at first were one guinea a week, and latterly 235. a week, and 10l. a year for the duties of locking up—it was his duty to be last on the premises at night and first in the morning, he had the keys for that purpose—he had no authority whatever to be on the premises
on Sunday—I had not forbid it, but there was no necessity for it—there was no necessity for his being there on Sunday 31st Oct.—my dwelling house is in Gloucester-terrace, Hyde-park—on Sunday night 31st Oct, about 10 o'clock, the prisoner came to my house, and stated that the warehouse in Ave-Maria-lane had been broken open, and a considerable quantity of property was gone, and bills and half bank-notes were strewed about, which he had picked up as well as he could—he said, without being asked, that he was on his way to church about 6 o'clock, and found the door of the warehouse open; he also stated that being fatigued with magazine work the night before, he had not been from home till church-time that eeening—he was excessively nervous at the time—he produced this seal (produced), stating that I should know what that was—it is a crest seal, and had been in my private drawer on the Saturday evening when I left—he requested me to return to Ave-Maria-lane—I did so; on coming to Stationers'-court the prisoner unlocked the door of No. 13, of which a policeman was in' charge—there is no other outside access to the warehouses when they are properly closed for the night, except at 13—there was no keyhole or latchhole to 14 and 15—they are closed by bars and bolts inside, and 16 has no door at all; that you can only get to from within; but it is a distinct house—if it had a door it is many years ago—the prisoner got a light at my orders, there was nobody in the warehouse—the prisoner said that he considered the thieves could only have been out very shortly when he first found it, and he wished he had been a few minutes earlier as he might have tackled them—he said, at my house, it must have been done by some country bands, not London ones, as it was very bunglingly done—he got the light at the entrance; there was a candle and lucifers there; that was not the place where they were usually left—we then went to the second house, No. 15, where I found the safe open, the bolts of the lock shot as if it had been locked; it did not appear to have been forced in the least, both doors were wide open—there was not the slightest appearance of violence, so much so that I remarked, "This must have been done by some person in the house;" by which I meant somebody that bad a key—I always kept the key of that safe; I left it on the Saturday night in a private cempartment in the drawer of a private desk which pulled out; it was locked with a Bramah lock, and on drawing it out there was a compartment of three or four inches which lifted up, and underneath it the key bad been kept for many years; it was a secret drawer, it had been forced open and was taken on to the stairs some distance from the counting house; my Bramah key was in my pocket—when the drawer was taken up, and the little compartment lifted up, the key was gone, and I believe was lying on the table on the outside—I did not find it, the prisoner found it—I believe I saw him find it, but I cannot say as to that, because there was so much confusion; but he certainly brought it to me—I cannot speak positively to my seeing it on the table, but the prisoner brought it to me and said, "This was on the desk."
COURT. Q. Those are two very different propositions, his finding it in your presence, and his bringing it to you? A. Yes; but I was so confused at the moment that I cannot say positively—the contents of the safe were all gone, with the exception of the bills; a box of silver-gilt plate was gone, consisting of spoons, forks, and knives; I do not know the exact quantity, they had a crest on them, not the same as was on the seal, but a griffin's head erect—the box was about a foot square—it was a large safe with double doors—I also missed six halves of 5l.-notes, and 30l. in notes besides, consisting of a 10l. and 4 5l.-notes, I think, but I cannot be positive—I know they were there at 1 o'clock on the Saturday but I did not see them afterwards; that
was all that was taken out of my safe; it was all very portable, with the exce tion of the box of plate; other things were thrown about—I locked the safe on Saturday, somewhere about 4, and placed the key in the usual place—when the drawer is taken out of the private desk that would not expose the secret part, unless some violence were used to the drawer—(the witness here pointed out the position of the secret part, on the drawer of his Lordship's desk)—the cover of the secret part was not actually fixed, but unless it was pulled out violently it would not expose the key; it would fall out if you turned the drawer upside down, but the papers in the drawer did not appear to have been taken out—the cover of the secret place was taken out and left exposed, it was thrown to the back part of the drawer; the cover lifted entirely out; it was a sort of box which fitted in; you could lay hold of the box and lift it up; anybody who was feeling about could see it was a box; they might have accidentally found the key—that key would open the safe if they knew where it applied to.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you observe anything more about what you call your safe? A. All the drawers were open, but as far as I could see nothing was taken from them—they were only papers, of no use to anybody but myself—some leases were strewed about—there was the lease of my own house, the fire insurance policy of it, and several securities given by the different clerks in our establishment on entering the place, which were of no use to thieves—I went up into the room where the prisoner said the entry had been made—I think he first made that observation at my house—he said the entry had been made where the entry had been attempted before; that was not true—the room he referred to was on the first floor of No. 16 house—no entry had been attempted at that window, but at another window close by, a skylight—when I got into the first floor he showed me the window through which he supposed the entry to have been effected—the window and shutters were open, but not broken—the window looked on to a skylight and a flat of leads, which is protected by a chevaux de frise all round—the window itself I believe had not been fastened, but the shutters had been barred within—the bars were drawn, but there were no marks of violence on the shutters.
COURT. Q. Is there a skylight in the leads? A. Adjoining the leads; it lights another counting house below—the chevaux de frise goes each side of a square, and the skylight is farther away, where there is no use for a chevaux de frise—when you get out of the window the leads are immediately underneath, but the skylight comes nearly close under the window—it is a flat of leads, twelve or fourteen feet from the window—the skylight is not flat; it comes close under the window from which the entry was said to be made—there are two or three feet between the window and skylight when you get out.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Then it is an inclined plane? A. Yes; the skylight runs narrow from the window—my attention was called to the skylight by the prisoner—he stated that a pane of glass had been taken out of it, which was the fact, but it was impossible for anybody to get through the pane of glass—anybody could get to the skylight from the leads, but they would have to tumble down about twelve feet—an entry had been effected through that skylight about twelve years ago, but the pane of glass taken out on this occasion was such a small one, and we have had an iron bar put under the window—I do not recollect that the prisoner said anything on the subject of any person coming in—when he pointed out the pane of glass to me it was not broken; it had been cut out—it was too small to admit the entrance or
exit of any person; it was impossible for a boy to get in there—the sergeant of police was with me, and the man was underneath—we next went up to my private counting house, which is on the first floor of No. 13—that is where my desk was where I kept the key of the safe—the prisoner knew that I kept it there—there were five safes in the house, but only mine had been opened—I observed a large bunch of rusty old keys lying on a corner of my table, and pointed them out to the sergeant of police—they belonged to the old locks, and had formerly been used in the warehouse—they had been kept in the desk of our foreman, Smith, in No. 15 house—they were keys which the prisoner knew; he had been in the habit of working near that desk for some years—we had a gentleman in our service named John Forster—he had a safe in his charge on the ground floor of No. 16 house, close against the entrance—he had the keys of it; they were in duplicate—I found the duplicate key of Forster's safe in No. 15 house, exactly opposite my large safe—I did not look at Forster's safe on Sunday night; I saw it on; the Monday, and the pins of the lock in three places had evidently been broken—I do not mean the interior of the lock, but the outside pins—they are large box locks, and there is a pin at the four corners, in the same places as you put screws to a lock—that lock bad been attempted at the pins, according to my belief—I tried the key of that lock, and found it would not open the safe—there was a piece of biscuit or some hard substance in the tube which prevented it going home—the safe was unlocked on that Monday, and it had not been disturbed—there were many valuables in that safe—there was a safe also in charge of the prisoner that contained a ledger and books—it was in No. 16 house—I examined it on Monday—it had not been attempted, or in any way disturbed—there were valuables in that safe which no one knew anything of, except the partners—there is a well in it which nobody knew anything about but ourselves—the prisoner had no access to the well; it was closed with a strong lock and covered over, so that nobody would know that there was a well there—No. 15 warehouse door, the prisoner said he found open—that door has no keyhole outside whatever—it is secured by inside bolts and bars, and a padlock inside to the door, which was taken off, and the bar was removed and the bolts drawn—the padlock was found by Smith the warehouseman next morning, in a drawer close by, away from the door altogether—it was not damaged, but was unlocked, and was away from the hasp, which was not broken—I was not present when it was found—the door was just as if there had been no padlock, except that the key was in the prisoner's possession, and it was his duty to lock it—there was no access from without, at the door of No. 15, after it was fastened of a night, but in the daytime, when we were carrying on business, there was a latch with a handle through the door, which governed the latch, by which it might be opened from outside, and on business days it was left unfastened, for persons to come in; they could turn the latch and walk in or walk out—the prisoner left of a night through No. 13, and locked the door after him; that was the only way by which he could leave all secure—a bar went across the door of No. 15; the door fastens in with an iron catch on each side—the staple and padlock were perhaps a foot or a foot and a half above the bar—the staple was fastened to the jamb of the door—you put the hasp over the staple, and then put the padlock in.
Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. The padlock, as I understand you, was put for security on the door of No. 15? A. Yes; if that were locked no one could get out from the inside—it was the prisoner's duty to lock that with his own hands—he had no authority for any person to do it for him—
the bar being shut across, it would be quite secure from without, without the padlock—something was in the barrel of the key, kept by Forster, which prevented it acting—it acts now—a pen, or something, got it out—I am not aware that I had seen those old keys before, but the prisoner was constantly in the habit of working where they where kept—they were apparently put there as a blind—the desk, which I call my private desk, I was in the habit of using myself—I saw the key in the drawer, every day—I saw it when I left, on Saturday night—when the drawer was pulled out to the full extent a person might see that there was something there—they must see that the drawer was not solid at that part, if they took it out—the skylight could not be entered by taking out that pane of glass; if they took it out they would find the impediment of the bar, which we have placed there—if the next pane had been taken out anybody could have got in—the bar was pretty plainly to be seen—if anybody was seeking to make an appearance of that sort, they might or might not take out that pane of glass—the leads are fourteen or fifteen feet from the ground, they form one side of the court—the window itself has, I believe, no fastening—the shutter is fastened with one of those bars which you see in a drawing room, a cross with a pin in the centre, with screws, which had been wrenched out; they had been there many years—they were not very strong—I cannot say whether that might have been done from outside—this 30th Oct. was what we call magazine night; our business is greater on that than on another night; so much that we are obliged to take on additional hands; but not for that night only, but for two or three nights previous, ending on that night—magazine Saturday is only once a month.
JURY. Q. Was it usual for the prisoner to be in possession of the keys from the time of closing the warehouse? A. Yes; till next morning—the warehouse was closed, I understand between 9 and 10 on Saturday night, but any of the warehousemen can tell—he was always in possession of the keys to close the warehouse, and of the padlock key, and that of his own safe.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Where was it his duty to keep the keys after he had secured the place; did he take them home with him? A. I believe so; he could not leave them in the house, and lock the house; he had liberty to take them where be pleased—he had them with him when he came to my house; they consisted of four or five—there was the key of No. 13, the key of the safe in No. 16, his own safe; the key of the padlock, I believe, and there were one or two others, but what they were I do not know.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. You say he had the keys with him when he came to you on Sunday night, did you observe more than one key? A. Yes; I saw there were more in his hands.
JOSEPH SELF . I am potboy, at the Daniel Lambert Tavern, which opens out on to Ludgaterhill, with a sketch of Daniel Lambert outside. I know the prisoner—on Sunday night, 31st Oct., he came over to our place at a little after 6 o'clock, and asked if one of the young men might come over to their place, for it had been broken open—I went, and the prisoner opened the door of No. 15 by the handle—when we were just on the threshold of the door, I said, "We had better have a constable"—he only said, "Very well"—I came away, and he came after me, shutting the door—he remained outside the door of No. 15, and I went for a policeman into Ludgate-street, when I met my fellow-servant (Ann) with a policeman (Kent)—she had not heard what the prisoner had said to me; it was in consequence of something the barman said—I returned to Stationers'-court, and found the prisoner where I
had left him—I, the prisoner, and the constable went in by No. 15 door—the prisoner said he would get a light—he went to the other side of the warehouse, and got feeling about there, about fifteen or twenty yards from the door; he could not get a light—it was the prisoner who suggested that there should be a light—he said he could not find any lucifers—I did not afterwards see where they were—the prisoner went over to our place to get some—the policeman said, "Make haste, and let us have a light"—then he came over to the Daniel Lambert, and we got a light and lit a candle—he came to where the policeman was, and we three together barred the door of No. 15 again; the bar had been taken from the door—we found an iron chest open—I think it was in the second division of No. 15—there was a cash box on the table; it was broken open—I went for the sergeant, and did not return—when the prisoner came he only asked me to go over the way with him—he said he found the door of No. 15 open, as he was going to church—when I and the policeman went with the prisoner to the premises, he said, "It is no use looking for the thieves, for this is the way they have got out"—that was the door of No. 15—before he had got any light he seemed very agitated—he kept running about the warehouse to get the light—before he got the light he said every blessed place had been broken open—I am quite sure there was no light then.
COURT. Q. Where was he when he said every blessed place had been broken open? A. By the counter, where they pack up the goods in No. 13—I knew where the counter was—there were some little drawers on which he had to put his hand, and he could feel that the things had been moved and shifted about, and then he said every blessed place had been broken open.
Cross-examined. Q. How far is the Daniel Lambert from this place? A. One of the bars is in Ave Maria-lane; it is very close to it—we are some of his nearest neighbours.
SAMUEL KENT (City-policeman, 324). On Sunday evening, 31st Oct., one of the female servants from the Daniel Lambert came to me—in consequence of what she said I went, having met the potboy, to these premises in Stationers'-court—it was about a quarter past six o'clock—I walked up to the door of No. 15, and there I saw the prisoner standing by the door, he told me the place had been broken open—I immediately took charge of the door by taking hold of the handle; the prisoner went over across the lane to the back of the Daniel Lambert—I had asked him for a light; he came back in the space of half a minute without a light—then I, the prisoner, and the potboy went into the premises directly, still without a light—I asked him again to get a light, and he said he would—he walked about that part of the premises, but got no light—he said, "Oh, here is every blessed place broken open, and every farthing of the money gone"—I said, "Well, man, I wish you would give us a light, we are here in the dark and cannot see anything"—after the space perhaps of two minutes, he did give us a light—he struck three or four lucifers first and let them burn out, and showed himself a light at the further end of the warehouse, but he did not light any candle or gas—I said, "Why do not you get us a light man, you must be mad keeping us here in the dark?"—he had struck a lucifer, and had it lighted in his fingers when he said every blessed place was broken open; and after that was burnt out he struck another and looked about again—I am positive he had struck two lucifer matches before; and when he came back I struck another and lighted a candle which he found somewhere up close behind the door—he said the door No. 15 was where the thieves had got out, and he did not believe we should find them there—he then put up a large bar across the door of No. 15,
and told me it should also be fastened with a padlock, and that he him self fastened it at 10 o'clock on the previous night—I asked him why he came there; he said he came there every Sunday since he had had the situation, except one Sunday—I asked him how long he had had that situation; he said three months—I asked him if he always came at that time on the Sunday; he said, that would be just as it happened, he sometimes came at one part of the day and sometimes at another part—I asked him if he brought the keys with him on a Sunday—he said, "Sometimes I do"—I said, "Have you got them now?" he said, "No, I have not"—we then went on down the warehouse; he took us first to a safe, that was open—I do not know whether it was broken open—I think it had a double door, the lock was shot, but the safe was open—I looked at it, and said to him, "Oh, this is not broken open"—there was a cash box lying on the table, broken; the prisoner said the thieves must have got in where the attempt was made before—he told me it was on the first floor, the back window—we went upstairs to the window, and found the shutters open, and the bar down—the prisoner was walking in front of me; he closed the shutters, put the bar up, and said that was how it was fastened—I took the bar down, and found the window was shut, but not fastened—I am not positive whether there was a fastening to it or not, but I slipped it up without touching any fastening—we could see no footmarks outside, it was dark—I observed a skylight of glass underneath the window—I could see that a smallsized pane of glass had been either broken out or taken out of it; neither a man nor a boy could have got through it—we went nearly all over the premises into a variety of rooms, where the desks were broken open—we found a large key lying on a table, I think on the first floor—I cannot say of which house—I was never there before or since, but it was opposite an iron safe (Mr. Hood here stated that there was no safe there, but that it was on the ground floor)—this was on the first floor—we left it there, I did not try it to anything—the prisoner told me he rather hoped there was no property gone, as his governors sent to the Bank every day—in another room we found three bundles of keys, some of them were rusty; that was on the first floor, not in the same house—when we came to the iron safe, the doors of which were open, I told him I did not believe it had been broken open, and asked him if he did not think it had been left open—he said he was sure it had not been left open (we had not found the key then)—I afterwards examined the safe; there had been no violence done to it whatever—I did not leave the prisoner from the time I went to the house, till my brother officers came—the prisoner found nothing while I was there that he named, and I did not see him pick up anything—when the keys which were partly rusty were found in the room, and the other loose on the first floor, the prisoner said, "These are the keys the burglars must have left;" or, "the thieves must have left"—we had got a candle at that time, and could see that some of them were rusty and some not—I told him that the keys were not such as burglars would use, that they were not picklock keys or skeleton keys, and asked him if he did not know the keys; he said he did not—I said, "Do not you know whether they are your governors' keys?"—he said, "No, it is impossible for me to know all my governors' keys"—I went away about 7, and did not return any more—I left my Inspector, Mr. McLean there, and sergeant Roberts with him, and the prisoner.
Cross-examine. Q. Did you find the padlock? A. I did not see it at all.
quarter past 7 o'clock, on this Sunday evening, and found the prisoner there—the premises had already been surveyed by the officer; still I went round with the prisoner, and observed perhaps twenty desks and drawers had been broken open, I should think not less than twenty, and the papers had been scattered about—the prisoner pointed out a window on the first floor which led to some leads, and said the fastenings were very insecure; that the window would push down—I hurried over the premises, thinking all had been surveyed before—I observed in Mr. Hood's counting-house a quantity of keys, perhaps thirty—the prisoner seemed in a great hurry, and had been searching over the premises before, I understand—I asked him if he knew those old keys—he said he did not—I think he said, "They are what the burglars," or he might have said, "thieves, have left;" I am sure he said either "burglars" or "thieves"—I made answer, "They are not such keys as burglars would carry"—I looked over them, and there was not such a key as burglars would carry—they were a bunch of old worn-out keys—I did not ask him any other question about them, for he was in a great hurry to go—he said he did not know them—he left me, to go to his master's, I should think near 8 o'clock; I should not think it was past 8—I do not know how far it is from Stationers-court to Gloucester-terrace; that is out of my jurisdiction—our division is in Fleet-street—that is perhaps three miles from Hyde-park.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you take any independent survey of the premises, or did you go together? A. I was with the prisoner the short time I was in the warehouse; I afterwards went and made a survey outside—when I first went in, the prisoner was in the warehouse—I ordered an officer to remain outside the door while he went to his master.
DANIEL MAY (City policeman, 357). On Monday morning, 1st Nov., I was called to the house of the prosecutor, and saw the prisoner—he showed me various desks which had been broken open, and also a window, where he said the thieves must have got in—he showed me, by placing up a bar, how easy it was for any one to get in—that was a window on the first floor of the furthest house, the house nearest Ludgate-street—(Mr. Hood explained this to be the house No. 16)—I noticed the window—I saw no marks outside—there was a skylight outside, where a square of glass had been taken out; but it was moveable, such as would open and shut for air—it was taken quite off—it was such a square of glass as anybody could have got through if the iron bar had not been there, but it crossed directly in the middle of the square—if it had not been there, I should think a man could get through and drop down, though not with the bar, but, by taking out the next square, he could get through there without breaking other squares, unless he was a very stout man—as you stand on the leads on which the skylight is, you can reach the window—there were marks on the leads, so that I could see somebody had been there to take out the square of glass—some person had been there for some purpose; but neither man nor boy could have got through that square, by reason of the iron bar which ran across it; and on looking at the window where the entry was supposed to have been effected, it was perfectly sound, and had no appearance of anybody getting through from without, if the shutters were fastened; neither did it appear that anybody could get access there, for it did not appear weak—I examined the premises thoroughly—I was present at the station-house, about 10 o'clock on Monday morning, when a gentleman, named Hughes, recognized the prisoner, who was then called into a private room, and I asked him at what time he shut the premises up on Saturday night—he said, "About 10 o'clock"—I asked him, "When did
you next see the premises?"—he said, "At 6 o'clock on Sunday night"—I asked him if he had been at the premises from the time he left them on Sunday—he said he had not left his home—I told him he was recognized by two parties as having been seen coming out of the premises on Sunday morning, at 11 o'clock—he said it was a mistake; he had not been out of his house, and he would prove that by other persons—I asked him if it was persons who were connected with the house where he lodged—he said, "Yes," and also a person who was not connected with the house, a woman who came to see his wife and to inquire after her, as she was ill.
JOHN FORSTER . I am one of the shopmen, in the firm of Whittaker and Co. I have charge of an iron safe, which stands on the ground floor—it has two keys, they are both intrusted to me; one I took home with me every night, and the other was left in the shop, in a recess in one of the desks—it is a half circular desk, with two or three drawers at the back of it, and the key was kept in a place behind the drawers—there is a little recess, a very small space, in which this key was kept, so that no person might know it—nobody could know that the key was there without pulling out the drawer, it is a very dark place—if anybody pulled out the drawer and looked, they might see the key, but not unless the drawer was pulled entirely out—I had been in the habit of using that key for some years; but one morning, finding something prevented my opening the iron safe with it, it was put away in the secret place, and I took the other key which was a new one, and have kept it ever since—the prisoner ought not to have known that I kept it there, and I have no reason to know that he did know it—it was only known to one other servant that that key would not open the safe; not generally.
Cross-examined. Q. Your safe was not broken open? A. No.
COURT. Q. What is the name of your fellow servant to whom you mentioned the fact? A. Charles Otten.
The COURT directed Charles Otten to be sent for.
THOMAS SMITH . I am a clerk in the firm of Whittaker and Co. I have the use of a desk in No. 15, in the till beneath which I left 8l. 8s. 8d., in sovereigns, silver, and halfpence, when I left on Saturday night, 30th Oct.—it was in the house, No. 15, on the ground floor—I took the key out of the till when I went away at night, and in the morning, when I came, I found the till forced open, and empty.
JAMES FARBROTHER . I am one of the clerks in the offices of Whittaker and Co. I have a desk in the school department, which is No. 13, first floor—on Saturday evening, when I left, I left 44l. in gold in my desk; I locked it, and took the key—when I came on Monday morning the drawer had been forced open, the front of it was entirely broken in, and the money was gone.
COURT. Q. What was your exact position in the house? A. I had to settle with the collectors; I was a sort of treasurer—it was known that I was the keeper of money; the men had to draw on me—Mr. Smith was the receiver of parcels into the house; each parcel that came there would be 2d. paid on—he would be in the receipt of money from the firm, and so should I.
WILLIAM HUGHES . I live at 12, Ave-Maria-lane, next door to the prosecutor. My father is a publisher—his name is John, and my brother, Richard—I knew the prisoner before 31st Oct.; I was continually meeting him in the way of business—I knew him as Mr. Hood's porter, and had known him about twelve or eighteen months—he would occasionally come to our house for goods, and I have sometimes met him in the way of business
at houses in Paternoster-row—I used to see him sometimes two or three times a week—on Sunday, 31st Oct., I was going to church at St. Ann's, Blackfriars, with my sister and my younger brother Richard—No. 12 is next door to No. 13—we had to pass Nos. 13, 14, 15, and 16 in succession, and I saw the prisoner coming out of the door of No. 15—I have no doubt at all about it being him—I passed close by him, so near that he stepped back in he doorway to allow me to pass—I saw him distinctly—I did not speak to him—I heard of this robbery on the Monday, and my father went to the warehouse of Mr. Hood—I was called in about 10 o'clock—the people were at work—I did not go among the men—I was called up into Mr. Hood's private room, where I saw the officers, and Mr. Hood—the officers asked me if I saw anybody come out of the premises, and I said yes—the prisoner was not in the room—I described the prisoner to Mr. Hood and the officers, and he was then called up into the room by himself—(it was my brother who went into the warehouse)—I said, "That is the party;" and I have not the slightest doubt of it in the world.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you describe him by name or by person? A. I described his person, I did not know his name—I described his person to May, the inspector, and the two Mr. Hoods—I was not aware that the prisoner had the locking up of the office, but I described him as the man who acted partly as collector and partly as porter, and who collected the numbers of books—that was partly the description I gave of him—my sister is not here to-day—she is twenty-one years old, younger than me—I did not turn round to see which way the person who came out of the door walked—the door from which I came, No. 12, is on the same side as No. 18—I should think from No. 12 to the door where I saw the person is further than across this court—it is not further than that building on the other side of the court-yard (Newgate)—the person was in the act of coming out and pulling the door after him—he stepped into the street, but on my coming up he stepped in to allow me and my sister to pass—the door opens inwards—I and my sister were walking together—my sister was nearest the door, and my brother was walking on first about as far apart from us as to the other side of this room.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Do you know whether your sister was acquainted with the person of the prisoner? A. No, she does not assist in the business so as to know him—I did not see the prisoner at No. 15 when I came out of our house—it was about a minute before 11 o'clock when I saw him—just before I got to the door, the prisoner came out and pulled the door to—we walked rather fast, and by the time I got up he was standing in the street, and he withdrew to let us pass—I had an opportunity of observing his countenance at that time.
COURT. Q. How was he dressed? A. I did not notice his dress—he generally dressed in something dark when he was at work—he does not generally wear an apron; I don't remember seeing him in one.
Q. Did he appear to be in his Sunday dress or his working dress? A. There appeared to me to be something different about his dress, but having no suspicion I did not notice—the reason I had no suspicion was, because I knew him to be Messrs. Whittakers' servant, and had always heard him spoken of as a very respectable man.
MR. HOOD re-examined. The prisoner did act as collecter and porter.
of the person he had seen come out of No. 15, but he identified the prisoner as being the person—he had been speaking to Mr. Hood before.
RICHARD HUGHES . I am 12 years old next month—the gentleman who has been examined is my brother—we live at 12 Ave Maria-lane—I have known the prisoner by sight before Sunday, the 31st Oct.—I should think I had seen him about a month before that time—I often saw him—on 31st Oct. I came out to go to church with my brother and saw somebody coming out of No. 15—I knew that person by sight; it was the prisoner—I was walking on the pavement, and he stepped back into the doorway of No. 15 to let us pass—on the next morning (Monday) I went to Mr. Hood's warehouse—I was taken over the warehouse—nobody pointed anybody out to me—there were about twenty persons there engaged in their different avocations—Mr. William Hood's brother was with me—I went to see if I could see the man that I saw come out of the door on the Sunday—I saw him, but did not point him out at the time—I did not do anything till I went into Mr. Hood's room—I then told Mr. Hood that the man I saw come out of his house yesterday was the man who was looking about with a candle for some tools—the prisoner is the man I saw—Mr. May and Mr. M'Lean were in Mr. Hood's room. (Daniel May here stated that he was in the room when the witness came back.)
Cross-examined. Q. How were you walking on the Sunday? A. I was walking before my brother—the prisoner made way to let my brother pass—I looked back after I had passed, because I was just going to speak to my brother about him—I was then about two yards from the door, not on a level with the door, but nearer church—it was not to make room for me on the pavement that the prisoner moved back, but to make room for my brother, and my sister who was there—when I first passed the door the prisoner was in the street holding the handle, with his foot on the step—I did not notice what he was doing, his face was turned towards the street—he had hold of the door by the handle, holding it still—I did not notice whether he appeared to be coming out—I did not point him out at once when I saw him next day, because I was not walking with Mr. Hood, I was walking behind him.
COURT. Q. Why did you wait to go into the room? A. I do not know—I did not notice which band the prisoner had on the door—his arm was behind him, and his. face to the street, as if he was pulling the door after him.
CHARLES OTTEN . I am the fellow-servant of Forster. I knew in which desk he kept his duplicate key; he told me—I have never told any of the other servants where he kept it—it was only known to me and Forster—I did not know of its being damaged, so that he could not use it.
MR. CLARKSON to MR. HOOD. Q. Do you know where the lucifers were kept, for the purpose of getting a light on going into the warehouse? A. Just immediately inside the door of No. 15—there were about a dozen boxes—the prisoner knew where they were kept.
COURT to DANIEL MAY. Q. Did you search the prisoner's house? A. Yes, on the Monday morning—I found nothing whatever—he lives in Long-lane, Smithfield, within five or six minutes' walk of the premises.
COURT to FRANCIS M'LEAN. Q. What door did you go out at when you left? A. I do not know the number—the prisoner fastened the door, and I told the policeman, Long, to watch outside the premises—I do not know how he fastened the door—I am sure it was fastened.
Witnesses for the Defence.
haberdasher at 27, Long-lane, Smithfield. On Sunday morning, 31st Oct., I got up about 8 o'clock—I occupy the lower part of the house entirely, and part of the first floor—the prisoner and his wife have resided there for the last ten years and a half—they occupied the second floor—I and my mother hare kept the house thirty-four years—the parlour door, which is at the foot of the stairs, abuts on where I sit—I should see any person going out—it was open during the whole of that morning, and whoever came down the stairs I must see or hear them—I first left the house that day about 3 o'clock in the afternoon—the prisoner first left the house at a little before 1 o'clock, to fetch his dinner beer—I cannot say I saw him go out, but I heard him pass.
COURT. Q. You heard somebody pass? A. Yes; I am so acquainted with his step that I knew it to be him—I let in every one that came in during the morning, and all that went out, and I did not see him go out or in during the whole of the morning till that time.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. How soon did he come in? A. In a very few minutes; it was not above six doors where he would have to go—I perfectly consider he was in the house between 8 o'clock in the morning and 1 o'clock—I have no doubt in my own mind but what he was there.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. Is this a lodging house? A. No; we keep the house, and we are obliged to let such part as we do not require—I am not married—my mother is the housekeeper, she is a widow—the milliner's shop is on the basement floor, in front of the street—the parlour is at the back of the shop, and the passage by which the lodgers go in and out is at the side of the shop—on a Sunday the room is close and confined, and we are in the habit of having the room door open—it usually stands open on Sunday, it is very seldom that we close it—there are three lodgers in the house—the one on the first floor is named Nash—he is a saddler, and is a journeyman to his brother; he occupies one room on the first floor—the other lodger's name is Collier—he is a butcher, and occupies the third floor—I do not know whether he is called Jack the butcher—I swear I never heard him called so—I understand he works in Newgate-market—he pays 4s. 6d. a week; the saddler, 4s.; and the prisoner, 5s. 6d.—my mother is 66 years of age—our keeping-room is the room at the back of the shop—my mother was very ill, so I stayed at home and cooked the dinner—we dined at 1 o'clock—the dinner was roast mutton; I roasted it in the back parlour—my mother was upstairs—there was only me to attend to the mutton—I put the mutton down at a little after 11 o'clock—we had not kept it raw in the parlour, we always hang it in the passage from Saturday night till Sunday morning, because no one comes into the passage—it hung out in the passage on Saturday night—we had no servant, nor had the lodgers—they all furnished their apartments and provided for themselves, we have nothing at all to do with them—the fireplace at which I cooked the mutton is nearly opposite the door—when I was nearest to the mutton I was farthest from the door, but still I should be opposite to it—if I turned my back to the mutton, I should turn my face to the door—I was asked by Mr. May if I knew whether the prisoner went to church that day.
Q. Upon your oath, did not you tell him you did not know whether he went to Church or not? A. Why, Sir, I was so very much surprised that I did not pretend to answer, but when I came to recollect, I felt sure to the time—Mr. Hood was present.
Q. Were you asked, in the presence of both these persons, whether you knew whether he had been out in the morning, and did not you say you did not know? A. I said at first I could not pretend to say, but on considertion
I knew he was at home—I do not know whether Jack the butcher has been here at Newgate since the inquiry has been taking place—I have not been with him to the Compter—I have not been to the Compter.
COURT. Q. You said you could not tell? A. Well, Sir, not of course seeing the man, I did not see the necessity of it; but I said I had every reason to think he was not out of the house—I had every reason to suppose he was in the house.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did not the officer ask you whether you had any means of knowing whether he had been out that morning, and did not you reply, you had no means of knowing? A. I do not recollect it—I do not understand what you mean—I may have said the substance of the thing, because I did not see him or hear him go in or out—I may have said I had no means of knowing.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Whether your face was towards the mutton or towards the door, should you hear anybody coming downstairs? A. Yes; and if they open the street-door, I must hear it—it could not be opened without my hearing it.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Is there a yard-door at the back? A. There is, but there is no means of going out; and if they came down there, we must see them—the only door out is the street-door.
CHARLES COLLIER . I am a butcher, and live at 27, Long-lane, Smith-field, in the same house as the prisoner. I remember Sunday, 31st Oct.—I got up at half-past 7 o'clock in the morning, and was at home all day till 7 in the evening—a little after I got up I heard a bell ring—I went down my own stairs on to the landing by Mr. Cooper's door—it was then a little after 2—my room is on the floor above the prisoner's, and I can hear people walking and talking in his room—from the time I got up till 25 minutes past 1, to the best of my belief, he never went out of the street-door—he went out to fetch the beer, and then he returned before half-past 1.
COURT. Q. What means have you of knowing he was at home between half-past 7 and 1 o'clock? A. I could hear him go downstairs if he went down, and I did not hear him go downstairs till 25 minutes past 1—there are no other persons in the room but himself and his wife—they have no children.
Cross-examined. Q. Who do you work for? A. I am in business for myself—I have got a stall in Newgate-market—I have had it very nearly 12 months—my landlady knows I am a master butcher—I do not know anything particular of the prisoner—I have no interest for him at all, only to tell the truth—he was in prison in the Compter previous to being committed to Newgate, from the Monday after the Sunday till last Saturday—he is no particular friend of mine—I had not been in the habit of associating with him at all; I did go once into the Compter to see him, but only once—I swear that—I believe it was on the Tuesday, I do not exactly know—I do not know the respectable gentleman who conducts this defence—I know Newgate-street as well as Newgate—I know Mr. Humphreys, the attorney, but I did not see him here; no, I beg pardon, it is not Mr. Humphreys—I went to the attorney's office once, yes, twice; twice was all, I believe—I will positively swear I have not been there as many as six times—I was last there last Tuesday, 1 believe, since the Sessions have been sitting; no, I think it was Monday, but I cannot say for certain the day—I was not there both days, only one day, whether it was Monday or Tuesday, I do not know—I will swear I did not go on both days—I was not there on Wednesday—I swear that—I do not know who found the money for this defence—I have
not found a farthing of it, and never advanced any—I can hear people walking on the floor below me, but not above—there is nobody above.
Q. As you take no interest in this at all, did you complain when you were examined before the Magistrate that the attorney's clerk came instead of his master, in the hearing of May, the officer? A. I did say, after I came out of the Court, that I thought it was not Mr. Humphreys—I thought as Mr. Humphreys was paid, that he ought to attend to it—I went there with the landlady—my wife was with me, she is here to-day—my wife's brother was with me as well, he is not here—he works in Holborn, and lives with me, on the third floor in the same house—he went with me as a witness—my wife told me that Mrs. Cooper was ill on the 21st Oct., but I do not know it, because I did not go into Mrs. Cooper's room—I do not know that I saw a lady come to see Mrs. Cooper that day, and I cannot say that I heard her—I will tell the truth—it would be impossible for me to tell the number of footsteps I heard in Cooper's room that day—there were a great number of footsteps there—I do not mean footsteps of a great many people, because there were only Mr. Cooper and his wife on the floor—I mean I beard footsteps a great number of times over—I was not on the stairs from 8 or 9 o'clock in the morning till half-past 1—I was never out of my room.
ELIZA COLLIER . I am the wife of the last witness. On Sunday, 31st Oct., I went down and spoke to my landlady, who said Mrs. Cooper was very unwell, and asked me if I had got a powder—I went into the prisoner's sitting-room, as near as possible at 11 o'clock—the bed-room door was half way open—I could see into it perfectly, and in coming out of the front-room I saw Mr. Cooper, standing in his shirt-sleeves, shaving himself—I only staid a few minutes—I went up again to get a powder, and brought it down.
COURT. Q. How do you know the time? A. Because I was about to put my dinner down to roast, and I looked up at the clock at the time—I went into Mrs. Cooper's room to ask her how she was, as my landlady told me she was ill, and going upstairs I went in And spoke to her as I went by—I had gone down into the yard for some water, but I spoke to the landlady first, and in my way upstairs I went into Mrs. Cooper's room—I did not see the prisoner again till about 25 minutes past 1, when I passed him with his beer.
Cross-examined. Q. How is your brother? A. He is much better, and gone to work—he was very ill at that time—he was living with me, and has done so ever since my mother's death—he was at home, ill in bed, and had not been out of the house a whole week, and scarcely out of bed, only to have it made—he is a copper-plate printer, at Mr. Dixon's, of Dyer's-buildings, Holborn—he is an out-door apprentice—I do not know how far it is from Stationers'-court to Long-lane. GUILTY. Aged 40.— Judgment Respited.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
FULWOOD pleaded GUILTY .* Aged 19.— Confined Twelve Months.
they hired a horse and van of him—they said they wanted some casks removed from Lewisham to East Greenwich—the prisoners went with the van, and I went with them to Lewisham—they brought twenty-five casks, and I loaded them in the van—it was about 2 o'clock in the day—we took them from Mr. Mortimer's to East Greenwich to Mr. Wingfield—he would not take them—he said they were not worth sixpence a-piece—they were empty casks—we then took them to a house in Thames-street, and delivered them there—I saw three men there, and one of them told the prisoners that if they brought the casks so late another time, he would not take them in.
HENRY GADWELL MORTIMER . I am a builder, and live at Lee, in Kent. I have some ground in the parish of Lewisham—I had some casks on that ground—I saw them safe on Saturday morning, 23rd Oct., between 11 and 12 o'clock—I missed them in the early part of the following week—I do not know how they got away—I have not seen them since, but I know that the casks which were conveyed from my ground were sold to Mr. Hilton—I only know that from the evidence.
STEPHEN CULLEN . I am foreman to Mr. Hilton, who lives in Thames-street. On Saturday evening, 23rd Oct., about half-past 6 o'clock, I took in twenty-five empty casks—I told Fulwood if he brought them so late again I would not take them in—I knew him, but I did not know either of the others.
JOSEPH GREEN (policeman, R 315). I took Mansfield on 1st Nov.—I told him he was charged with stealing twenty-five casks, and asked him where he took them to—he said, first to Mr. Wingfield's, and they would not take them in, and then he took them to Mr. Hilton's, in Thames-street—he said he was employed by another lad, and he was to get a few halfpence—I asked him if Fulwood was the lad, he said, "Yes, I believe that was the person."
Mansfield's Defence. This lad came and asked me if I would do a job for him; I said yes; he said he had some casks to fetch, if I would go with him he would give me something; he said, "We will get a van, and go to Lee and fetch them;" we went to Mr. Brown's, and got a van, and drove to Lee, and he said, "Stop there, I will get the barrels;" he brought them, and they were handed to the carman; I did not know they were stolen.
(Mansfield received a good character.) MANSFIELD— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Four Months.
Before Mr. Baron Alderson.
MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
from information I received I went to No. 1, Unicorn-court, Mint-street, with sergeant Wood house, and two other constables—we found the street door open, and went up to the first floor—we had a little boy with us who knocked at the door—some one inside said, "Who is there?"—the boy said, "It is all right," and the door was opened by, I believe, the prisoner Kelly—I entered alone, and saw all the prisoners—Kelly and Fisher were standing up and the two women, and Minns were standing round the fire—it is rather a small room, the light was in Fisher's hands—it was about half past 6 o'clock in the evening, the fire was alight—I saw a mould in Kelly's hand when I went into the room—I seized it, and took it from him, this is it (produced)—I believe it is only half of a mould, it is for a half crown—here is half a crown sticking in it now, which I believe is good, the head is next to the mould, it has never been taken out yet—this pipkin (produced) was on the fire containing melted metal quite hot—there was a quantity of broken up plaster of Paris on the hearth, more than enough to have formed the other half of the mould, there was enough to fill a quart pot—I picked up three bad shillings and a sixpence in an unfinished state, from among the plaster of Paris on the hearth, they were quite warm (produced)—I found on the mantel piece part of a galvanic battery, and a broken Britannia metal spoon—in the cupboard I found an iron ladle—as I entered the room I saw Brown rise up from where she was sitting, and run to the foot of the bed—I went there afterwards, and found this part of a bad half crown under the bed—I asked Kelly who occupied the room, he said he did—when I took hold of Kelly, Fisher attempted to run down stairs—he was stopped, and brought back—I took the prisoners into custody with the assistance of the other constables—Minns was sitting by the fire for some considerable time, I had desired them all to remain where they were—Minns and Field did not move, it was close to their feet that I picked up the bad money—one was silting on one side of the fire, and one on the other.
Cross-examined by MR. WOOLLETT. Q. Have you made some inquiries about Minns? A. No; I have known him about Kent-street as a boy—I know nothing against him.
Kelly. Q. What was the reason you left the room after coming in? A. I had received information, that underneath that place I should find a great deal of money which was made, and I left to find it, but could not do so—what I found was in your presence in the room.
JOHN WOODHOUSE (police-sergeant, 13 M). On 13th Oct. I accompanied Richards, and the boy to this house—I remained on the stairs, after Richards had gone into the room, the prisoner Fisher came out in a hurried way, I stopped him, and took him back—there were two more constables downstairs, whom I called up—I searched Fisher, found nothing on him, and gave him in charge of a constable—I then searched Kelly, I saw him put his foot on something, and found under his foot a counterfeit shilling—in his pocket I found two good half crowns, and two good shillings—there was a table in the room with three bottles on it, and a saucer containing sand, and a cup with something which appeared like some acid, it has not been tested—I took a paper containing plaster of Paris from the table, two files, a knife, and a spoon containing wet plaster of Paris, not quite set—there was a very bright fire with a pipkin on it which Sergeant Wright took off—it had some hot metal in it in a fluid state—Field was standing at the corner of the room near the window, Minns and Blown were sitting down by the fire—I said to Field, "What are you doing here?"—she said, "I have nothing to do with them, I have only come to see them make it."
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you know something of Minns? A. Yes; I never beard anything against his character—I have seen him working with a barrow, selling fruit.
COURT. Q. How long have you known him? A. From a child; his age is about nineteen—I examined several broken pieces of plaster of Paris which I found—there were no marks on them; they were broken up too small—when Field said she had nothing to do with it, she only came to see them make it, she spoke as if she was frightened—I am sure the others could have heard it, she spoke loud enough—she was three or four yards from them at the time; Fisher was nearest to her—there was a good deal of bustle in the room.
EDWARD HEWLETT (policeman). I took Fisher, and found four bad. sixpences on the hearth, unfinished, and quite warm (produced)—also some plaster of Paris—the prisoners were then all gone, to the station.
Kelly. Q. I wish to know why there was not a constable there; one or two persons came into the room, and were ordered out? A. A young man came in, and as soon as sergeant Woodhouse saw him, he ordered him out—he had not gone up to the fire; he went and spoke to Field at the window.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am one of the inspectors of coin to Her Majesty's Mint. This plaster of Paris mould bears the impression of the head of a half erown; it has not been used—I have taken the half crown out of it—to make it usable it wants the corresponding part for the reverse, and it also requires the channel to be added to it—this galvanic battery is used for electro-plating the coins, covering them with a coat of silver—we do not have quite so much electro-plated coin now as we had some years ago, it gives too bright an appearance—these shillings are all counterfeit, and from the same mould, which has been made from the good shilling found in Kelly's pocket—these sixpences are counterfeit, and from the same mould—there are enough pieces of broken plaster here to form a mould for a shilling or half Crown—this is part of a half crown of Her present Majesty, which was found under the bed—it is different from this half crown mould—(a basket full of broken pieces of plaster of Paris was here produced, which the witness examined)—this piece is part of a mould (looking at one), but I cannot swear whether the other pieces are parts of a mould or not.
(Minns received a good character.)
KELLY— GUILTY . Aged 19. Transported for Ten Years.
BROWN, MINNS, FISHER and FIELD— NOT GUILTY .
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH PAYNE . I am the wife of John Payne, of Billinghurst, in Sussex—the prisoner's sister was lodging at my house—the prisoner lived at Five Oaks, near Billinghurst; she came to see her sister three times while she lodged at my house—on the Sunday before she went to London she was at our house, and drank tea with her brother and sister—I heard her sister ask her if she was in the family way—she said no, she was not, she was quite innocent as she (her sister) was herself—she came back on 21st Oct.—she had then been in London a month come the following Monday, so that it was
three weeks and four days before 21st Oct. that that conversation took place—when she returned she was in a very delicate state of health, she was just able to walk across the kitchen—I asked her what was the matter; she told me she had been ill ever since she had been in London, from catching a cold in going up by the railway—she did not say she had been confined—I attended on her—she asked for some cold water, and I did not feel that she ought to have it—I asked her if she had been to the Lying-in Hospital in London—she said she had not, she had been living at a respectable place, Mr. Whitby's, Commercial-road, Peckham—she was not able to get up next day, and I waited on her, and saw milk running out of her breasts, as if she had been delivered of a child—I moved her out of bed, and saw several stains of blood on the bed—I asked her if she had not had a baby; she said yes, she had—I asked her where it was; she told me she left it in London; that she had cut it up with a carving-knife, and forced it down the water-closet—she said it was born dead—I asked her whether her mistress knew it; she said she did not, for she scoured the water-closet all out, that her mistress should not see anything of it—next day I sent for Mr. Evershed, the surgeon, who came and examined her in my presence—on the Friday she said that where she lived at Mrs. Towsey's she filled a large copper of water (eighteen pails) for washing, during which time her baby was ready to come from her, and after that time she never felt it move till she was delivered.
JOHN SWAN FLOWER . I am a surgeon, of Camberwell—on 26th Oct. I was sent for to James's-terrace, Commercial-road, Peckham, where I saw sergeant Quinnear, who directed my attention to the privy—it had a pan and pipe to it, which were removed by Quinnear, and I saw the palm of the right hand of a child lying on the surface of the soil—Quinnear brought me afterwards the other parts of the body, the head separated into two portions, the left shoulder and arm, the right hand and fore-arm, the ribs were divided from the spine on the left side, dividing the body again between the vertebrse—there were about eighteen pieces—the right arm from the elbow to the shoulder, the brain, and the liver were deficient—the heart was there, but detached from the body—the Jungs were there, and appeared to have been inflated, they decrepitated; the hip was divided, and on comparing the left hip with the left thigh, I found that it was a female child cut up in the middle of the body.
COURT. Q. Are you able to say that it was born alive? A. It had breathed; I can say that the lungs had been inflated—a child may breathe in the act of birth, but one thing led me more distinctly to conceive that it was born alive, which was a fracture of the skull, and an external bruise and extravasation of blood underneath the scalp—that could not have been done in the cutting up—it might have been caused by a fall in the birth.
GUILTY of concealing the birth. Aged 18.— Canfined One Year.
MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.
JANE LAPHAM . My husband's name is George, I live with him at 57, Lower Marsh, Lambeth. I had an infant named George William Lapham, who died on 5th Nov.; it was then seven weeks old—the prisoner had been in my service about seven weeks, she came about the time the child was born—her name is Johanna, but I called her Mary Ann—the child had been
ill, and had been attended by Mr. Sewell, my medical man—it had had inflammation of the chest; it was recovering—on 20fh Oct., about 7 o'clock in the evening, I was in my bed-room where the child was asleep in my bed-the prisoner came to me and said, "My master wants you, ma'am"—she went downstairs, and I followed her—I went to my husband in the shop, and after seeing him, I sent the prisoner out on an errand—I remained in the shop till she returned—she was gone about two or three minutes, and when she returned, she went straight upstairs which led to the bedroom where the child was—in about five minutes she came running downstairs again, saying that the baby was crying, that she had found it crying as she was going upstairs—neither my husband, nor me, nor the apprentice, had left the shop from the time the prisoner went out on the errand, or for five minutes afterwards.
COURT. Q. Then had anybody been upstairs hut the prisoner? A. No.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. You had a lady staying with you, named Rolls, had you not? A. Not at that time.
COURT Q. When you went upstairs into the bedroom, are you aware that there was nobody upstairs, or merely that you did not see anybody? A. No; I did not see anybody—there are rooms upstairs besides the room where the baby was—we do not occupy them—the apprentice sleeps upstairs—the prisoner slept in the first floor back room, below the bedroom.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Was your apprentice at home at the time you are speaking of? A. No; he was not in the way—I had left a candle burning in the room where the child was sleeping—when the prisoner came down, she brought it down with her alight—I went up stairs immediately, and the prisoner followed me with the candle—as I went up, I heard the child screaming—I went up to the child, and found it screaming and foaming at the mouth—I took it up, and wiped its mouth with its bed gown, which was calico—it had a handkerchief round its neck—I found its mouth nothing but a white mass inside, and its lips all parched and white; it looked like a white bum—when I had wiped the foam from its mouth, I found the mouth was all white, and full of foam, and it proceeded from the right corner of its mouth down the cheek to its neck—when I wiped the foam away, the flesh was white—the inside of the mouth was also white—I have never seen caustic applied—I took up the handkerchief which was round its neck; it had several holes in it, as if burnt—there were none there when I put it it round the child's neck—they were such holes as would be the result of burning by a candle.
COURT. Q. It looked like the burning of a candle, did it? A. Yes; it was brown round the edges.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you ever say that before? A. No; I did not before—I did not say it to the Grand Jury—when I observed the child's neck and mouth, I said to the prisoner, "You have burnt the child with the candle"—I thought it had so happened—she said she had not—I afterwards said, "You have put the candle in the child's mouth"—she said it was an accident, the candle fell out of the candlestick—I sent for Mr. Sewell, his assistant came first, and he and Mr. Sewell attended the child—the child had been nourished with nothing but the breast, from its birth—after the state in which I found it on the 20th, it was not able to take the breast for five or ten minutes at a time, it took it with difficulty, not so freely or with the same vigour as it had done before; and when it did suck, it did not suck as well as before, and that continued so till it died on 5th Nov.—it seemed to waste very fast—I had had charge of the child on 20th Oct., up to 7 o'clock,
when the prisoner fetched me away to go to my husband—it was pretty well when I left it—no one could have access to it but myself, my husband, the apprentice, if he was at home, and the prisoner—on 5th Nov., after the child was dead, a bottle was shown me with some sort of brown liquid in it—I had seen that bottle before, on the mantel-piece in the prisoner's bed room—she had said it was her holy water bottle—I had seen it in her bed room a day or two before the 20th Oct., and I missed it on 19th Oct.—it was not there on 20th—I had not said anything to her about its being missed—when I saw it on her shelf, there was a kind of yellow water in it—the domestic articles used on our premises with the exception of the scale in my husband's shop, are made of iron and tin—I have no copper articles—we did not use any vitriol in the house—I do not know of any being used for cleaning the scale, or for anything else—it was the apprentice's duty to clean the scale—he was never furnished with vitriol for it.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Had you known the prisoner previous to her entering your service? A. No; she was quite a stranger to me—I had a monthly nurse, who nursed me during the time the prisoner was there—her name is Mary Dawes—she was not in my employ when I hired the prisoner—she remained with me three weeks, and occasionally came from time to time afterwards—she was not in the house the day previous to this occurrence, or at any time on the same day—she had not called at the house that day, or the day before—she was there on the 19th—it was part of the prisoner's duty to attend to the baby, and mind it—she always behaved with kindness to the child—she is a Roman Catholic—the nurse is a Protestant—I am not aware that the prisoner had any quarrels and differences with the nurse while she was in the house—the child was afflicted with inflammation before this, but I am not aware that it had had convulsions—we do not let out any part of the house in lodgings—there was no other bottle but the one I refer to on the prisoner's mantelpiece—it contained a sort of dirty yellow water.
COURT. Q. I suppose when you were confined you had medicine? A. Yes; those bottles were kept in the back room cupboard—the bottle which had the holy water was like a little decanter, not like a physic bottle—when I went into her room, on 19th, I observed it was gone—I went in consequence of missing a bottle of medicine—it was a bottle containing something brown; it was for the baby—I do not know what sort of medicine—it was something the doctor had prescribed when the baby had inflammation-it was to be taken inwardly—he had nothing that was rubbed outside—the prisoner is a person that believes in the efficacy of holy water.
HARRIET BASTON ROLLS . I reside at Bristol. On the Sunday following 20th Oct., I went to stay with Mr. and Mrs. Lapham, when the child was ill—on 5th Nov., I and John Underwood, Mr. Lapham's apprentice, searched the water closet, which communicates with the sewer—there is no pan to it—first of all some water was thrown down to clean away the soil, and Underwood there found this phial first—it had not more in it than now—I took it out of Underwood's hand, took it up to my sister and asked her if that was the holy water bottle—she said, "No"—we then went and searched again, and Underwood found this other one—afterwards, on the same evening, I saw the bottle which contained the small quantity of liquid in Mr. Sewell's hands—there were cracks in both the bottles, the same as there are now—I am not aware of any vitriol being used at Mr. Lapham's, while I was there.
about 8—I had not seen the child in the day—there are two other children—on 5th Nov. I searched the water closet with Rolls, and found these two bottles—on 19th Oct., about 5 in the morning, the prisoner borrowed 1d. of me—she was the general servant—the pans and other things she had to clean were made of iron and tin—there are no copper articles—the scales which I clean are made of brass—I do not use vitriol to clean them, and I have never seen any on the premises—I have been with Mr. Lapham eighteen months—I never saw any vitriol before I saw this—I cannot tell that this was vitriol—I did not know it till the doctor said so—I cleaned the scales with brickdust and water—I think vitriol is a liquid.
MARY DAWES . I am the nurse who attended Mrs. Lapham in her confinement—I left some short time after, and returned again—I left on 19th Oct., and returned on the 20th—I had not been there constantly up to the 19th—she was confined on 13th Oct., and I attended her three weeks—I had left eight days, and was sent for again, as the child was very ill—I left on 19th Oct. for one day—the child was five weeks old when this happened—on 19th Oct. I missed a bottle of medicine from the mantel shelf in Mr. Lapham's bedroom—it was a sort of brownish stuff, in an ounce phial—it was used for the baby to have a dose of it every three hours—at the time I missed the bottle the child had only had one dose from it—I gave it two teaspoonfuls—there were a good many doses in the phial—I asked the prisoner if she had seen this bottle, and she said she had not, and I and the prisoner then together made a further search for it, and in the course of the search I missed her holy water bottle from her mantelpiece in her bedroom—this is the bottle (looking at it)—she had had the holy water bottle all the time I was there, until the last day—it always looked the same—the medicine bottle was smaller than this one—when I missed the holy water bottle I spoke to the prisoner about it, and she said she supposed them that got the one bottle had got the other—I asked her if she had taken the bottle away—I supposed she might have taken it down to wash it—she said she had not—I made a further search, but did not find the phial—on the evening of the next day (20th) I was sent for again, and went to Mrs. Lapham's—I got there about 8 o'clock in the evening—the child was then very ill, all foaming at the mouth—I noticed a mark on its mouth, and on various articles of linen—I know what oil of vitriol is; I never saw any about Mr. Lapham's house.
COURT. Q. What sort of looking stuff is oil of vitriol; what is it like? A. I cannot say, but I saw the things burnt, and I thought it was something.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Had you ever heard the prisoner say anything about the children? A. One morning, two or three days after Mrs. Lapham was confined, and about ten days after the prisoner came, I took the two elder children down, and the prisoner said, "D—n and b—r the children"—that was because I took them down in the morning—those were the two elder children.
Cross-examined. Q. During the time you and the prisoner were at Mrs. Lapham's, I believe you had several disagreements, had you not? A. No; I never disagreed with her—when I was looking for this bottle the prisoner did not first say that she missed her holy water bottle.
JOHN SEWELL . I am a surgeon, and reside at Lambeth-terrace. I attended Mrs. Lapham in her confinement, and I attended the child subsequently—on the evening of 20th Oct. I was sent for—I sent my assistant first, and then went myself—I got there between 10 and 11 o'clock—I found about two thirds of the child's tongue, the whole of the right side covered with a thick
white fur, and the inside of the right cheek, against which the tongue was lying, was in the same state—the outside of the right cheek was burnt; the skin was destroyed, and of a bluish appearance all down the side of the cheek to the handkerchief, which I took off the child's neck—it streamed out at the corner of its mouth, and descended to the neck—when I took the handkerchief off the child's neck I found several holes in it, but not so many as there are at present, because the handkerchief was very damp—I put my tongue to it, and it tasted strongly of acid—it proceeded through the folds of the handkerchief to the bedgown which the child had on, which was also burnt through the holes of the handkerchief—judging from the taste and appearance, my opinion is that it was burnt by oil of vitriol, which coincided with my opinion in the first instance—it tasted to me like vitriolic acid; it was a corrosive acid—I was quite positive, in the first instance, when I saw the ehild, that it was a corrosive acid—the strings of the nightcap were burnt in two or three pieces by the same sort of acid, and the child's thumb was a little burnt in a similar way to the cheek, and the lips were similar to the tongue.
COURT. Q. How far inwardly in the mouth was the tongue burnt? A. As far as I could see up the right side; I had attended the child since 10th Oct., for inflammation of the trachea—on 20th Oct., and for some two or three days previous, it was quite out of danger from the inflammation—it was weakly, from the effect of the inflammation, and the remedies applied—it had been able to take the breast freely for those two or three days—after the 20th I recommended its mother, in the first instance, to put it to the breast, with a view of endeavouring to heal its mouth—I thought the nourishment from the breast would be the most soothing thing to its mouth; but it had great difficulty, and could not take it freely, as it had before—whatever it was that produced it, no doubt it must have given the child great pain—it was not at all like the thrush; it completely covered two-thirds of the tongue, on one side—the thrush would have been in small white specks, and particularly on both sides of the cheeks, inside.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. To what cause should you attribute this want of power to take the breast? A. From the administration of the acid, it was so far deprived of the power of taking the breast as to exercise a prejudicial effect on its health; it could not take sufficient nourishment—I continued to attend it till its death—it improved gradually; the appearance of the tongue gradually wore away, but on 3rd Nov. convulsions and fits came on—I had never heard of or observed any convulsions before—I attribute these symptoms to the administration of the acid; no doubt it was a great shock on the nervous system—the child could not take sufficient, nourishment for its sustenance; it was wasting away, and the want of proper nourishment increased debility.
COURT. Q. Convulsions frequently come on in young children, do they not? A. Yes, very frequently; it is one of the most prevalent disorders in the bills of mortality.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. You continued to attend the child till its death? A. Yes; and after that I made an examination of the body.
COURT. Q. I suppose the immediate cause of death was the convulsions and fits? A. Unquestionably; increased debility might make a child more subject to them than before—convulsions very frequently come on from teething; that could hardly be the case with a child seven weeks old—children are sometimes taken ill, and die suddenly, from convulsions, without any apparent cause; it may be caused by a shock to the nervous system, or it
might be caused by some other and independent matter; it is impossible to say.
(MR. BARON ALDERSON put it to the Jury whether, on this evidence, they could be satisfied that the death was caused by the unlawful act of the prisoner: in order to convict, they must be satisfied that the convulsions which produced death were caused by some act on her part. The JURY expressed their opinion that there was not sufficient evidence to that effect, and found the prisoner)
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
75. ROBERT TERRY , stealing 14 sovereigns, 1 1/2 sovereign, and 2 5l. bank notes; the moneys of Gaynor Owen and another, his masters, in their dwelling house; having been before convicted: to which he pleaded
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Transported for Seven Years.
GUILTY . Aged 28.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and DAWSON conducted the Prosecution.
SAMUEL JARMAN . I am clerk to the Solicitor to the Treasury. I produce a copy of a conviction from Mr. Clark's office; it is signed by Mr. Clark—(read—Paul Wharton and William Collier, Convicted here Feb. 1852, for uttering counterfeit coin; Wharton Confined Six Months).
EDMUND DOVER . My father keeps the Duke's Head public-house, in the Borough. On 13th Oct., between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came for some Old Tom—it came to 5d.; he threw down a half-crown; I examined it, it was bad; I told the prisoner so—he said a woman gave it him outside—he was desired to fetch the woman in; he went to the door, my father followed him—he came in again, but no woman came; I fetched an officer, who took the prisoner in custody—the half-crown was given to the officer; this is it.
WILLIAM TAYLOR (policeman, L 94). I took the prisoner, and produce this half-crown—when I was desired to take the prisoner, it was stated that it was for uttering a bad half-crown; he said a woman gave it him outside—I came up when I was fetched—I did not see any woman there at all; I took the prisoner to the station—he was remanded till the Saturday following, and was discharged.
MARY WINDER . I am the wife of Alfred Winder, a baker, in Church-street, Deptford. On Monday, 18th Oct., the prisoner came to my shop for a rice-bun; I gave it him—it was a penny; he gave me a shilling; I examined it, it was bad—he told me he got it at Charlton fair, in change for a half-crown—I took the shilling to the detector, and bent it; while I was talking to my husband, the prisoner walked out of the shop—there was a person in the parlour talking to my husband, who went out at the side-door after the prisoner, to the Broadway, and gave him in charge—I kept the shilling in my hand till the policeman came, and gave it him—I am sure it was the same.
GUILTY . Aged 15.— Transported for Seven Years.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. How came you to get the certificate, you call yourself a merchant in the deposition? A. I am brother-in-law to the second husband—I guess he is about fifty-six years old—I should guess the prisoner is about fifty-four or fifty-six—I went down to get this certificate at my own expense—I am going to pay the expense of this prosecution, as my brother-in-law has not got the means to pay—I have not known the prisoner very long, after her marriage with my brother—she has been in the habit of visiting at my house, but was never a welcome visitor—I have been to her house two or three times—I never inquired whether I was a welcome visitor there—I examined this certificate—the clerk of the parish gave it me—it was not made in my presence—he brought the book to me—I took this paper into my hand, and compared it, word for word, with the book—I found it correct—I do not know that when the prisoner married my brother-in-law, she brought some property to him—I was told she had some property—I was told that she had the lease of two small houses, each giving the rent of 5s. 6d. a week, which lease was made out in her maiden name—I do not know that she had 50l., and I do not believe it.
SARAH WILSON . I am the wife of Joseph Wilson; I live at Maidstone. John Smith is my brother—I was present at his marriage with the prisoner, at Tunbridge Church, in Kent, on 13th Oct., 1816; my brother is alive; I saw him last Friday.
Cross-examined. Q. Where is he now? A. I do not know; I do not know whether he is here to-day—this marriage was as far back as 1816—I am quite sure the prisoner is the person who married my brother—I have no doubt she is the person—I do not know that my brother is married again; I have only heard it—he was alive on Friday; he went past my gate—I live in that neighbourhood—I do not know that he is living with another person—I have visited him—I have seen a person there acting as his wife—I do not know that he is married to her—if they were married, I was not present—I did not know it—she styled herself Mrs. Smith—I have lived there nearly all my life—I have known my brother and this woman living together as Mr. and Mrs. Smith for fifteen years—they have no family.
MR. PAYNE. Q. How long did your brother and the prisoner live together as man and wife? A. I do not remember; they ceased to live together eight or nine years after they married.
COURT. Q. Where did your brother live after they ceased to live together? A. With another brother, in Maidstone—I do not know where the prisoner lived after they parted.
WILLIAM HENSMAN . I am an engineer, and live at Jamaica-level, Rotherhithe. I was present when my father was married to the prisoner at Newington Church, on 26th Jan., 1841—I produce a certificate of the marriage; it is a correct copy.
Cross-examined. Q. Up to the present time, or till within two or three
months, they have always lived together as man and wife? A. I believe they have—I have not visited them lately—I married a niece of the prisoner's—my father had two houses with the prisoner—there was some money; I do not know how much—I know there was some furniture.
MR. PAYNE. Q. They lived together about eleven years? A. Yes.
(The certificates were here read.)
JOSEPH HENSMAN . I was married to the prisoner at Newington Church in 1841—I married her as a widow—she told me she was a widow—I heard that she was not a widow, but that she had a husband living, about two years after we were married—I told her I heard that she had a husband living—I cannot recollect what she said—it is seven or eight years ago—since then she has several times threatened me that she would bring home my master, but I did not suppose in my own mind that ever she had been married at all—I married her on her representation that she was a widow.
Cross-examined. Q. I think about two years after your marriage, and after you heard that Mr. Smith was living, you went with her down to Maidstone? A. Yes; I stayed at Mr. Smith 'a, but it was represented that that was Mr. Smith's brother—I did not believe that the prisoner had been married—I have lived with her till within three months—I had no property with her—all the property she had was two small houses—I put up a back shop to one of them, which cost me 100l.—I collect the rents of those two houses, and keep them in repair—I collect 5s. 6d. a week for one house, and 9s. 6d. for the one where I made the shop at the back—they formerly used to let at 5s. a week each—I believe when I married the prisoner she had 12l. in the savings' bank—I cannot swear she had not 50l.—I did not draw out a farthing of it—I might have had it to use—I cannot exactly say how much I had to use, but if you look at her bank book, she had but 12l., and out of that she had to pay a quarter's rent—I did not get as much as 50l., nor never saw sight of it—the furniture she had was not worth talking about—she had not a housefull of furniture, only one room—she has worked at the trade of a wire worker since she has been married.
MR. PAYNE. Q. How came you to part from her three months ago? A. I never found out that she had got a lawful husband till my friend went down and ascertained it.
JOHN TIMOTHY HUGHES (policeman, L 20.) I took the prisoner, and told her she was charged with having married two husbands—she said, "Yes; but the first husband had married a second time before she married Hensman, and therefore she considered that marriage was void.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to swear that the words she used were not that she believed her first husband had been already married before she was married to him? A. As near as I can recollect, those were the words she made use of.
GUILTY. Aged 50.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined One Month in Newgate.
ROBERT WALTERS . I keep the Horse and Groom public house, Walworth-road. On Friday, 22nd Oct., about half-past 6 o'clock, the prisoner came for a glass of half and half, and gave me a shilling; I bent it, found it was bad, and told him so—he said, "Is it; here is another," and threw another
on the counter, which I observed was bad also, and told him so—I went round the counter to detain him, and he asked me to let him see one of them, saying, he was not satisfied—I kept them in my hand till the constable came, gave them to him, and gave the prisoner into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did not he ask you to let him see one of them before you went round the counter to detain him? A. No.
ALFRED MANSFIELD (policeman, P 312). I was called to Mr. Walters, and received these two shillings (produced) from him, and received the prisoner in custody—I asked him how he came by them—he said he had been to a shop to purchase something, and received them in change for half a crown—I asked him what shop it was, and where—he said he did not know—I asked him where he lived, and he refused to tell me—I took him to the station, and he there gave his address, 9, King-street, Camden-town—I went there, but heard nothing of him.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not what he said, when you asked his address, that he would state it when he got to the station? A. Yes.
GUILTY . Aged 27.— Confined Six Months.
REER pleaded GUILTY . Aged 15.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH POWELL . My husband is a surgeon, and resides at Alfredterrace, Bermondsey. On 9th Nov., about 7 o'clock, the prisoner Reer came to my husband's shop, and asked for an ounce of salts, which came to 1d.—he threw a sixpence on the counter, which I took up and found was bad—I said, "You see what this is"—he said, "What is it?"—I said, "A bad one; you know that"—while I was speaking to him Harris came in, and asked whether Adams, a bricklayer, lived down that turning—I did not answer him immediately, and he asked me the same question several times—I told Reer if there was a policeman I would give him in charge, and they both went out at the same time—I followed them round the corner repealing the same remark, and Reer went to the right and Harris to the left—the sixpence remained on the counter, and in a few minutes Noakes, a policeman, came, and I gave it to him.
WILLIAM LIDDLE . I am a tobacconist, at 22, Abbey-street, Bermondsey. On 9th Nov., about 7 o'clock, Reer came and asked for a quarter of an ounce of tobacco, and put down 6d. on the counter, and while I was weighing the tobacco, a constable came and told me to look at the money—I looked at it, bent it in the detector, and found it was bad—I gave it to the constable, and he took Reer into custody.
WILLIAM NOAKES (policeman, M 15). On the evening of 9th Nov., about 20 minutes to 7 o'clock, I saw both the prisoners in the Queen's-road, Bermondsey, walking together—I saw them stop just before they got to Mrs. Powell's shop—they then passed the shop—Reer turned back again, entered the shop, and Harris about a minute afterwards—I saw them come out together; Reer turned to the right and Harris to the left—Harris then went down the road a short distance, crossed over, came back, and joined Reer, who was waiting at the corner—I then received 6d. from Mrs. Powell, went out, and overtook the prisoners in the Grange-road walking together—they turned into Fendall-street, where they stopped, and Harris put his hand out as if giving Reer something, who held out his hand, and Harris appeared to put
something into it—after that they went to Abbey-street—I saw them both look into Mr. Liddle's window—they then went a little distance by—Reer came back and went into the shop, while Harris stood a few yards off—I went in, cautioned Mr. Liddle about the money, and received this sixpence (produced) from him—I left Reer in his custody in the shop, went after Harris, and brought him back to the shop—I found a sixpence and 9 1/2 d. in copper on Harris, and 1/2 d. on Reer—Harris said he had never seen Reer before.
Harris's Defence. I was looking for work, met Reer, and asked him the way—I walked a little way with him, and left him at the tobacconist's shop.
HARRIS— GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Six Months.
MILDOW pleaded GUILTY . Aged 31.— Confined Twelve Months.
SMITH and BRIGGS— NOT GUILTY .
82. WILSON CUNNINGHAM and JAMES LEWIS , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Wilson, and stealing 1 cream-jug, 4 lbs. weight of tea, 4 coats, and other articles, value 7l. 5s., his property; Cunningham having been before convicted: 2nd COUNT, receiving the same.
JOHN WILSON . I am a tea-dealer, and live in Vassal-road, Brixton, in the parish of Lambeth—it is my dwelling-house. On 29th Oct., about 5 minutes before 6 o'clock, in consequence of something which my servant told me, I got up, and found a large hole had been cut in the back kitchen-door, at the bottom part, by which means the fastenings inside had been withdrawn, and the lock undone—the back kitchen door leads into the garden—there is an inner-door leading to the premises, the box of the lock of which was broken—I examined the house, and missed a dozen and a half of table-knives from the kitchen, a silver cream-jug, a tea spoon, a pair of boots, four great coats from the hall, from a cupboard in the back-parlour 4 lbs. of tea, and two shawls, and a cloak—I had gone round the house at half-past 11 the night before, when the doors and windows were all fastened—I observed the back kitchen-door particularly—it was bolted with two bolts, and the lock was fastened, and the hole was not there—I saw the coats in the passage the last thing before I went to bed—these (produced) are them—they are mine, and these knives, forks, and clock (produced) also.
JAMES WESTFOLD . I am a dust collector. On Saturday, 30th Oct., about 9 o'clock in the morning, I was moving some dust and rubbish from a heap in the mews, which is seven or eight yards from the back of the prosecutor's premises—as soon as I uncovered the rubbish, and began to take it up, I found two baskets; one had got a lid tied down, and the other had not—they were just lightly covered with leaves and rubbish—the baskets contained three coats, a quantity of knives and forks, and five packets of tea—I saw the things when they were taken out afterwards—these things produced are the same—I went round to the front of the house directly, and inquired, and in consequence of what I heard, the things were taken to Mr. Wilson, who owned them—I put the baskets back from where I had taken them, covered them as they were before, and left them.
house, and was shown these things—I made arrangements with West-fold about putting them back—about 4 o'clock I was placed, with another officer, to watch close by, and about 6 o'clock I saw the prisoner Cunningham coming down the mews in a stooping position under the wall—he went direct to the dust heap, and began raking the leaves and rubbish on one side—he stooped for a moment, and when I saw him up in the corner apparently busy, I got over the wall—he saw me get over, and was making his way up to the end of the mews again, but I took hold of him and asked him what he did there—he said he came to ease himself—I told him I should take him in custody for committing a burglary at Mr. Wilson's, in the Vassal-road, on Thursday night—he said, "Very well, you can take me where you like; I know nothing about it; I was at work in the Borough-market"—there is a gate at the end of the mews, which I fastened at 5 o'clock.
Cunningham. Q. Did I touch the baskets? A. I saw you begin raking the rubbish—I cannot say whether you touched the baskets—it was dark.
THOMAS TAPPING (policeman, P 285). About half-past 10 o'clock on the Friday morning I went to the prosecutor's house, and in the garden I observed a fresh footmark, about ten yards from the back window—I covered it with a handglass, to preserve the impression—the next day I assisted to put the articles back, and about 6 was watching at the place, and saw Cunningham at the basket—I was in such a position that I could not see him till he got to the basket, but I saw him there, and saw him take a coat out of a basket—Standage then got over the wall—Cunningham dropped the coat, and was going away, when Standage took hold of him, and I picked up the coat—I found Lewis at the gate of the mews, which is sixty yards off—he saw us, walked away a short distance, and then turned back to meet us—I asked him what he did there; he said he was going home from his work—I asked where his work was; he said it was over the Common—I asked him where he lived; he said, "At Camberwell"—I asked his name and address; he said it was very strange a man could not come along from his work without being stopped—he did not give it me, and when Standage came up with Cunningham I told Lewis I should take him for being concerned with him—he made answer, "I know nothing of that young man; I may have seen him, but I never spoke to him"—at the station I took off both the prisoner's shoes, and on Sunday morning I went to the place where I had seen the footmark—I found that Cunningham's left shoe exactly corresponded with it—I tried it by making an impression by the side of the mark, where there was the same sort of soil.
Cunningham. Q. Was there anything else in the basket besides the coat? A. Nothing but the coat in that basket—I found the coat about two feet from the basket.
Lewis. Q. Do not you think, at the distance I was, I could have got away? A. You may have, but it is very unlikely.
MARK HOGG . I am a labourer, and know the prisoners. On Saturday afternoon, 30th Oct., at 3 o'clock, I saw the prisoners drinking together at the Royal Standard, Kennington-common—they had a pot of beer between them—I have known them five or six years, have seen them together before, and know them to be associates.
Cunningham. Q. Was there anybody else with us? A. Yes, there was another person.
Cunningham, in a written defence, stated: "On or about the 29th Oct. I went with the prisoner, James Lewis, to Stoke Newington, to look after work; we returned about 6 o'clock in the evening, and as we were going direct home, down Foxley-road, I said to Lewis, 'Just remain here whilst I
go down here to ease myself;' I went about half way down till I came to a rubbish heap; I was compelled to go down thus far as there were a number of doors, back entrances to the houses in the front street; after I had done what I wanted, I looked round to see if I could find a piece of paper, when so doing I saw something black; I took it up to see what it was, and it turned out to be a coat; at this moment a policeman jumped over a wall, and said he should take me in custody on suspicion of breaking into the prosecutor's house; I told him I knew nothing about it; he then asked me where I had been working; I told him in the Borough market; we then went to the top of the Mews in the road, when I saw that Lewis was in custody of another policeman, who denied knowing me, but for what reason I do not know; they then took us to the station house, and took away my coat, handkerchief, and boots; next morning they brought them back, and said they did not belong to the prosecutor, and that the boots did not correspond with the footmarks in the prosecutor's garden; the inspector asked him how he tried the boot to the mark, and he said he laid the boot on top of the footmark, and found that the footmark was two inches longer than my boot; the inspector then told him that was not the way to correspond the boot with the footmark in the garden; he then took the boot away again, and now swears that they do correspond with each other; this was on Saturday night, two days after the robbery was committed of which I now stand charged, but of which I declare that I am quite innocent."
GUILTY on 2nd Count. LEWIS. Aged 19.— Transported for Seven Years.
(Cunningham was further charged with having been before convicted.)
FRANCIS BAKER (policeman, P 322). I produced a certificate—(read—Surrey. Wilson Cunningham, convicted at Newington, Oct., 1851, Confined Six Months)—I was present at that trial—Cunningham is the person who was found guilty.
Prisoner. I was abroad at the time. Witness. I am quite certain you are the man; I am not the man who had you in custody, the man who had you has his leg broken, and is not able to attend here; but I was in Court at the time, and heard you tried with two others.
CUNNINGHAM—GUILTY. Aged 19.— Transported for Ten Years.
83. CHARLES TOOMER and JOHN SMITHERS , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of William James, and stealing 42 yards of cloth, and 3 3/4 yards of waistcoating, value 21l. 1s. 1d.; his goods.
MR. M. PRENDERGAST conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM JAMES . I am a tailor, and live at 3, Hargravc-terrace, Bermondsey New-road, in the parish of St. Mary Magdalen, Bermondsey. On 28th Oct. I went out after 9 o'clock at night, and returned about a quarter or twenty minutes past 10, and when I got a few paces off my door, I saw a man just outside the door—I went towards the door, and it was gently opened as I was in the act of ringing the bell, and two young men came out loaded with cloth—I can identify Smithers as one of those men, but I have some doubt as to Toomer—I saw that my shelves were stripped, and the shop in disorder—I did not go into the shop—I looked in, and then pursued them, crying, "Stop thief"—I followed them to the bottom of Webb-street, where there is a chapel, and a turning to the right, and another to the left—the man I had seen outside the door turned to the left, and the two others turned to the right—it was then called out to me that they had dropped the goods, and about seven or eight minutes after I saw them in custody of the police.
Cross-examined by MR. DEARSLEY. Q. What time was it you saw them coming out of the house? A. About a quarter past 10 o'clock; it was a light moonlight night—I had no suspicion of them then—they only just passed me, and I had no reason to notice them then—it was not half a dozen seconds from the time of my losing sight of them, and following them—there were other persons in the street at the time.
MR. PRENDERGAST. Q. When you looked in and saw the state of the shelves, did not you say that they had just crossed the road? A. Yes.
EDWIN COLLINS . I live in Bermondsey New-road. On 28th Oct., about a quarter past 10 o'clock, I was coming home from work, and saw the two prisoners in Webb-street, carrying cloth on their shoulders—I passed them about 100 yards, and heard a cry of, "Stop thief!"—I turned round, and saw them throw the cloth into the road—they made towards me—I stopped Toomer, and he struck me at the side of the head which caused me to let go of him for a moment—I went to lay hold of him again, when Smithers turned round to strike me, but I struck him and knocked him down—Toomer then ran past me—they ran down a passage opposite Swan Mead, and I stopped them there—there is a tan yard there.
Cross-examined. Q. How could you see they had cloth? A. They passed me with it—they both had it—there were several bundles—it was not wrapped up, I could see it was cloth—there was another man with the prisoners.
HARRIETT JANE JAMES . I am the prosecutor's wife. I recollect my husband going out on the evening of 28th Oct.—I put the shutters up and closed the door about a quarter before 10—the door locked with a spring lock—the cloth was then sale.
JOHN CRONIN (policeman, 188 M). From information I received, I, Collins, and another constable, went to Swan-mead—I got over the palings of a tan-yard at the bottom, and there saw the two prisoners—Toomer said, "What is the matter?"—I told them they were charged with stealing cloth from a tailor's shop in Bermondsey New-road—I took them into custody. NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY .† Aged 23.— Transported for Seven Years.
(There was another indictment against the prisoner.)
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, THE 13TH OF DECEMBER.