CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
MOON, MAYOR. SIXTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, April 9th, 1855.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Sir GEORGE CARROLL, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Ald; Mr. Ald WIRE; and Mr. Ald. KENNEDY.
Before Mr. Recorder and the First Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 29.— Confined Four Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 30.— Confined One Month.
(Police-sergeant Goff deposed to his previous good character.)
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 34.— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .** Aged 18.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES KENYON . I am an innkeeper at Hayes. The prisoners were in my employment—Shepherd was my ostler up to 10th March—Red worth had previously been my ostler, and had left about a month before, and I
gave him room in my house till he could get some employment, as he was badly off—they were not both in my service together, Shepherd succeeded Redworth—on Saturday, 10th March, I discovered the double floor of a knife and shoe house, broken through into the ale cellar underneath, from which a door leads into the wine cellar—that door was open—there was no lock to it—this was between 1 and 2 o'clock—the ale cellar door was kept locked—it had not been touched at all—I missed both ale and wine—I called for the policeman, and gave the prisoners into custody—at that time they were drunk in the tap room—I charged them all three with being drunk—they said they were not drunk—I said, "You are beastly drunk," and I called the policeman and gave them into custody—the policeman said, "You had better look round, and see if you can miss anything"—I got the keys, and went into the cellar where the floor had been broken, and found the place as I have said—the prisoners were taken to the station—Shepherd there said to me, "I should like to speak to you"—I had before that told them they had been robbing me—that was at my house, before they were taken into custody—they said they had not—when Shepherd said at the station that he wanted to speak to me, I said, "What you have to say, say in the presence of the police"—Shepherd was then taken into another room to sergeant Roadknight, to have the charge taken—Cheetham said to him, "Whatever you say, it will be taken down in evidence against you"—Shepherd said he had not been in the cellar, but Redworth and Alford had been in the cellar, and he saw them there.
Cross-examined by MR. PULLING. Q. Did not you tell Shepherd that it would be better for him if he told the truth? A. No, I am certain of that.
COURT. Q. Was it Redworth or Shepherd who said what you have stated? A. Shepherd, I am sure of that—I have been examined before—both Redworth and Shepherd said they wanted to speak to me—they were taken separately into the charge room—Shepherd spoke to me, and Redworth too, but I said, "What you have to say, say it in the presence of the police; I will have nothing to say to you"—I did not say anything to them after that—I followed them into the charge room—I heard Redworth say that he had not had anything to do with it; he was innocent, and knew nothing of it—that was all I heard him say.
MR. PULLING. Q. Had you seen Shepherd before that morning? A. Yes, early in the morning, and Redworth also—I think I had not been out—there were not a good many persons in the tap-room that morning—I think they were the only three that were there—Shepherd had been with me about a month as ostler—his work was out-doors and in-doors also—I had no complaint to make of him so far as regards his work—it was about 10 o'clock in the morning that I first noticed him the worse for liquor—only two pints of beer was fetched for him from the bar to the skittle alley—that was for the party in the skittle alley—they had all three been drinking.
Redworth. Q. Did not you tell me if I told you the truth it would be better for me? A. I do not recollect such words—I am sure I did not—I heard you say that Shepherd and Alford got down the cellar, and that you knew nothing about it, and had nothing to do with it—you were perfectly sober when you came in—I did not hear the constable say it would be better for you to tell the truth.
COURT. Q. Did you say anything to them about drinking wine? A. I said they had been drinking wine—they said they had not—I said, "There is the pint you had it in"—that was in the skittle alley—that was after I
had examined the cellar—I went from the cellar to the skittle alley, and there found two empty pints—the prisoners were not there then, they had gone into the tap-room—one of the pints had had sherry wine in it, and the other beer—I went into the tap-room, and found the prisoners sitting there with Alford—I called the policeman and gave them in charge—I said they had been drinking wine—they said they had only had beer—I said they could not have got drunk on two pints of beer—both of them said they had had no wine—I have lost a great deal of wine, and some ale, but I cannot say how much, having rather a large stock—I had frequently missed wine, previous to this day—I cannot say how much I missed on this day—I know some was gone, because I saw that bottles had been removed—I expect I have lost four or five dozen in all—I cannot say how many were taken that day—I had not been in the wine cellar for two or three days—I keep the key—I am sure some wine was gone since I was last in the cellar—the prisoners knew where it was kept.
JOSEPH CHEETHAM (policeman, T 207.) On Saturday, 10th March, I was called by Mr. Kenyon, at a little before 2 o'clock, and saw the prisoners and a man named Alford, who is still at large, in the tap-room—they were quite drunk, and were given into my custody by Mr. Kenyon, who said that he thought they had been drinking his wine and spirits, as they had only had two pints of beer during the day—Redworth said to Shepherd, "You hold your noise, you b——y fool; if you split we shall be transported"—Shepherd had not spoken, that I am aware of—previous to my putting the handcuffs on he was very violent, and said, "You b——r; if I had got my knife, I would cut your b——y throat"—they were so violent that the third man made his escape—I took them to the station—I cautioned Redworth; I did not tell him that it would be better for him to tell the truth—he told the sergeant that Alford and Shepherd were in the cellar, and that he waited outside and saw them—Shepherd made no reply—they were both handcuffed together—I then went back to Mr. Kenyon's to make further search—Sergeant Roadknight came shortly after me—I was searching the premises, and up in a loft, over the skittle ground, I found seven pint and two quart bottles of wine, which I believe was sherry, and two bottles of stout, eleven altogether—they were covered over with a mat—I took them to the station.
COURT. Q. Before Redworth made that statement, did Shepherd say anything? A. He said that Redworth knew all about it—I think that was after Redworth had made his statement—it was after Redworth was in the charge room that Shepherd said it—it was after Redworth had said that Shepherd did it—Redworth was taken into the charge room, and then Shepherd was the next.
Q. That is directly contrary to what you told the Magistrate; you said that Shepherd said, "Redworth knows all about it," and afterwards that Redworth said that it was Shepherd and Alford who did it; now you say that Shepherd said so; which was said first? A. Redworth said in the first place that Shepherd and Alford were in the cellar, and afterwards when Shepherd came into the charge room he said, "Shepherd knows the whole of it"—what I said before the Magistrate was quite correct; I believe Shepherd was in the charge room first.
Cross-examined. Q. Does your recollection serve you? A. I think it will—one was not present when the other was speaking; they came in alone.
COURT. Q. I thought they were handcuffed together? A. Yes, but I took the handcuffs off when I got them to the station.
Redworth. Q. I said, "I will go quietly, but do not handcuff me; I do not like to go along the streets in handcuffs?" A. It was because you were so very violent previously that I put handcuffs on you—I believe Shepherd was taken into the charge room first—I did not hear Mr. Kenyon tell you that if you told the truth it would be better for you.
COURT. Q. When Redworth said this what state was he in? A. Quite drunk.
RICHARD ROADKNIGHT . I am a police-sergeant of Uxbridge—I was at the station about 5 o'clock in the evening, when the prisoners were brought in—they were so drunk that I could not have them in together—Shepherd was brought in first, and I told him that he was charged with breaking into Mr. Kenyon's cellar, and stealing his wine—he made no observation about the wine, but wanted to speak to Mr. Kenyon—I was there the whole time—Redworth was afterwards brought in—he said that he wished to speak to Mr. Kenyon, that it was Alford and Shepherd who broke into the cellar, and the servant and Mr. Kenyon's grandson knew it, pointing to the servant, who was in the charge room, and saying, "There she is"—they were then locked up—the reserve man, Turton, T 93, afterwards told me something, and I went to the cell door, and heard Shepherd speaking to Turton—I heard him say that Alford got into the cellar, and handed out the wine to Redworth, and they carried it across the road into the skittle ground, that they called him and gave him some of it to drink, and if we went to the loft over the skittle ground we should find some wine covered over with a mat, and that some of the bottles were thrown down the privy by Alford—I then went to the loft, and found eight bottles of sherry, two bottles of stout, and an empty quart bottle—I searched the privy with Cheetham, and found one empty quart bottle—I went back to the station, and told Shepherd that I had found these things; he said that other parties put them there, and not him.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite certain that Shepherd did not say that Alford had told him that he had taken the wine in this way? A. No; he said, "Alford got into the cellar and handed it to Redford, and they carried it across the road," that they called him across the road as he was sweeping the snow, and gave him some of it to drink.
COURT. Q. Must they have gone through the yard into the knife house? A. Into the yard, and then broke through the knife house into the cellar—I heard Redworth say that it was Shepherd and Alford who got into the cellar and stole the wine—Shepherd may have said, "Redworth knows all about it," but I did not hear it.
PHŒBE GRIFFIN . I am a servant to Mr. Kenyon. I know the prisoners—Redworth said to me, a considerable time ago, I cannot say how long, "I know how to get into the cellar in two or three minutes if I choose"—he told me that in his old master's time he could make 20l. a week if he liked, and could have had 100l. by him then if he had not been a fool—I was in the house when he was taken, and heard him say to Shepherd, "Hold your noise, you b——y fool; if it is found out we shall be transported"—I do not know whether anything had been said to make him say that—I was up stairs, dressing.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you tell your master? A. I told my mistress, about three weeks before, that Redworth had said this.
Redworth. Q. How long is it since I told you that? A. I said six months at Uxbridge, but I cannot say exactly—I am not the person who told you of it—you did not see me with a pint bottle, with something in it,
in my hand, on the morning that this happened, nor did I have one—I was never tipsy in my life; I scarcely ever drink liquor—people have not complained of my being tipsy, nor have I lain on a table asleep.
MR. W. J. PAYNE. Q. You were never drunk in your life? A. No—my place is to wait in the taproom, of an evening.
JAMES KENYON re-examined. This wine (produced) is part of my stock—the bottles correspond—I do not know what is on the seal, but it has these ame stamp—the knife house is inclosed by the yard; it adjoins the house, and is all within the inclosure of my premises.
Redworths Defence. I was lodging at Mr. Kenyon's, and was laid up there; I was just getting better; that is the reason of my being at the house; I was kept by the parish.
GUILTY of stealing only.
(The prisoners were further charged with having been before convicted.)
JOSEPH CHEETHAM re-examined. I produce two certificates (read—Central Criminal Court; Thomas Redworth, convicted April. 1854, of feloniously receiving a sack containing oats and beans, having been then before convicted: confined six months.) (Central Criminal Court; George Shepherd, convicted, April. 1854, of stealing from his master a sack containing oats and beans; confined three months)—I was present—the prisoners are the persons mentioned—they were not both in service together—Redworth was ostler at the White Hart.
COURT to JAMES KENYON. Q. Were you aware that they were both convicted thieves? A. Yes; but I said, "I will try, Tom. if I can assist you, and endeavour to make you a respectable man."
REDWORTH—GUILTY. Aged 22.— Confined Four Years.
SHEPHERD—GUILTY. Aged 18.— Confined Twelve Months.
400. DANIEL HAGAN , (stealing 1 scent bottle, value 1s.; and 30s. in money; the property of Edith Piper: 1 set of skittles, 1 book, and 1 watch, value 1l. 11s. 9d.; the goods of Thomas Piper, his master: 1 powder flask, and 1 book, value 1s. 6d.; the goods of Wilson Thomas Piper, his master: and 2 account books, value 1s.; the goods of Thomas Piper and Wilson Thomas Piper, his masters: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 14.— Judgment Respited.
NEW COURT—Monday, April 9th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. CUBITT and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Fifth Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY. Aged 48.—Recommended to mercy. — Confined Three Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Three Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Two Months.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM WEBB (policeman, C 140). About 1 o'clock on Wednesday morning, 21st March, I was trying the doors in St. Ann's-place, Westminster—I came to Mr. Hull's workshop—he is a japanner and grainer—I tried the door, and found it was broken open—I found the door resisted being opened—I pulled the door to, and sprung my rattle for assistance, and No. 69 came to my assistance—we went inside, and found Wallace, Brown, and Summers inside the workshop, between the two doors—they were standing up behind the door—Mr. Hull was there—we had got him before we went inside—he lives twenty or thirty yards from there—I asked the prisoners what they wanted there—Brown said they were going to lodge there—I found these things down on the floor, just ready for packing up—I found this part of the padlock broken off, and I found this knife by the side.
Wallace. Q. Which do you call the workshop? A. Where you were—you were behind the first door—there are two door—you came out of the workshop to the outer door—when I sprung my rattle you did not tell me that the place belonged to Mr. Hull, and tell me where he lived.
Brown. Q. Which door did you find me behind? A. The first door.
Summers. Q. Did I not say I was brought in there by two young men to lodge? A. No.
MR. THOMPSON. Q. Did you get in at the outer door at all till you got some assistance? A. No.
COURT. Q. You found these things on the floor?A. Yes, they were all together.
JOHN HULL . I reside at No. 9, St. Ann's-court—I am a japanner—my workshop is at No. 3—no one sleeps there—I locked it up on Tuesday night, between 7 and 8 o'clock—I left all locked, the outer door, the inner door, and a desk—there is a sort of lobby between the outer door and the inner door, which takes you up stairs to another workshop over mine—when you are inside the outer door you may consider you are in the workshop—I rent the one shop; the other was empty—I have the key of the outer door, which locked up all—I left the outer door and the inner door quite secure—I was fetched by the policeman some few minutes after 1 o'clock on Wednesday morning—I went to the workshop—the door was open, the hasp was broken—this is the hasp that was on the outer door—I left it quite secure—when I got in, I found the last witness and another policeman—the prisoners were behind them—the policeman asked me to look about, and see if I could see anything missing—I discovered a quantity of old handles and brass, and these tools were on the floor—the handles and brass had been in drawers in the workshop—this stock and bit had been in the desk—these were in the workshop—they might be about a yard from the entrance—I found Wallace, and Brown, and Summers there—they wished to make acquaintance with me, but I knew nothing of them—they said they came to lodge there—I gave them no permission to come there to lodge—I missed the stock and bit, and a saw from the desk—there was a small drawer, which contained forty or fifty farthings, and they were thrown under the bench—this clock and these brushes are mine—I had left this clock safe the night before, and it was going, and all these brushes were there—they are mine—I went to the workshop the next morning, and
missed the clock, and I went to my cupboard, and missed the brushes, which I kept in water—I saw the brushes again, in the yard, at No. 19—I did not see the clock till it was in possession of the policeman—I made a search at Mr. Gillett's, No. 19—the prisoner Hurst was there, in the first floor room—I gave the three prisoners into custody in the shop—I think I have seen them about the neighbourhood.
Wallace. Q. Where did you first see me? A. I cannot exactly say—some were in the shop, and some were in the lobby—I could not say whether any were on the stairs—I was 'in a bit of a bustle—you made acquaintance with me, and said that I knew you—I might have seen you—I said, "These things are all ready to take away."
Brown. Q. Was I not on the stairs? A. I cannot say—you did not stand in one place in particular—you were not up stairs in the other shop.
Summers. Q. Was the door not open when you were fetched? A. When I came the policeman opened the door to see who was there—I do not remember your saying you were brought up there by two young men, and you were well acquainted with my son.
JANE GILLETT . I am a widow, and live at No. 19, St. Ann's-court—the four prisoners lodged in my house—Wallace, Summers, and Brown occupied the first floor back room—I knew Summers by the name of Dogherty—Hurst occupied a room at top, I believe the back room. On Wednesday morning, about half-past 1 o'clock, Hurst came down stairs into the yard. with a bundle in her hand, tied up in an apron—she put it on the dust hill, and she directly took it down and put it by the side of her—it contained paint brushes; I suppose about twenty, or two or three more—I heard her ask a little girl that I have the care of, to take them over to Mr. Hull—I went out to her and said the child should not take them—she said to me, "Will you take care of them?"—I said, "No; you had better go and call Mr. Hull yourself, or I will go and call him," and I sent to him, and he came and found the brushes in the yard—I could not say which room Hurst brought the brushes from—it was known then that the other three prisoners were in custody.
Wallace. Q. Do you say that I live with these two females? A. I can swear you were in and out at all hours—you were continually there, at all hours.
GEORGE MONK (policeman, C 161.) I know the house No. 19, St. Ann's-court—I know the four prisoners all lodge there—I made a search there on the 21st March, about half-past 2 o'clock in the day—I found this clock and one weight in the back kitchen, which is unoccupied—after I came up stairs the brushes were produced to me by Mr. Hull, and Hurst was given into custody—she tried to make her escape.
Wallace's Defence. Neither of the policemen saw me in the workshop, but between the two doors; I had been at work and received a little money, and I had to begin another job the next day; I was going up as far as the New-road, and I met these two females; they asked me to go to the prosecutor's, and I had no hesitation in going, knowing the prosecutor, and the policeman came and sprung his rattle; I told the policeman who I was, and that I knew the place; I had worked there for Mr. Hull; I never saw the things; I said the place was not broken by me; it could not be broken without instruments, and there were none found on me; I never lived with either of these prisoners, and I could prove it by twenty witnesses if I am allowed to do it.
Brown's Defence. I had been to the theatre; I had two or three drops
of gin, and I met two young men, who said to me, "Come in here," and I did so.
Summers's Defence. We met two young men, who said, "Come up stairs with us," and as I knew Mr. Hull, and kept company with his son, I did so; when we got to the workshop they put out the light; I said, "They have blown the candle out, and left us here;" the policeman came and sprang his rattle.
JURY. Q. Was your son at home that night? A. Both my sons are married—one of them lives in my house, and he was in bed, and was called up—the other lives near Middlesex Hospital, and has a large family.
WALLACE*— GUILTY . Aged 25.
BROWN*— GUILTY . Aged 24.
SUMMERS*— GUILTY . Aged 23.
Confined Two Years.
HURST— NOT GUILTY .
MR. W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE GLAS SANDEMAN, JUN . I reside at No. 15, Hyde-park-garden On Thursday, 8th March, about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I was walking in Kensington-gardens—I had not an outer coat on—my coat was buttoned—I had my watch in my waistcoat pocket—it was not visible—I heard persons walking behind me—I did not turn round—one of them came behind me and put his arm round my neck, and put his knee in my back, and bent me back, and I was powerless—while I was in this position they pulled open my coat, tore the button a little, and took hold of my watch chain, and broke the key off in the hole in the waistcoat—the waistcoat was not torn—my watch was taken, and part of the chain, all except the key—they then left me—I could not tell whether there was more than one person—I saw two persons in front of me who were running towards the botanic walk—the robbery had taken place just by the round pond—I saw them running about twenty yards off—I know the prisoners to be the parties who ran away—I swear they are the two men that-ran from me—I saw Williams stopped by Croxford—Baker got away—I had just noticed the prisoners before I was stopped—when Williams was stopped Croxford had my watch, and Williams said now that I had got my property I might let him off—I did not see Baker taken—when I first saw him afterwards he was in custody—that was about half an hour after the occurrence—this is the watch and chain—the watch belongs to my sister, Helen Jane Sandeman—it is worth about 10l.
Williams. Q. When you lost your watch, in what part of the park were you? A. About ten yards from the round pond—the pond is about fifteen yards from the park way—when I missed my watch I did not look behind me—I saw you running, and I ran after you—I was not speaking to any one—I was not speaking to a boy—there was a person sitting down—the first thing I did was to run after you—I represented you before the Grand Jury by your size—I knew you to be the person—I told the gardener I had been robbed, and he ran after you—I can swear you took the watch from my possession.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY., Q. In what walk were you? A. Just by the round pond—there were not a good many persons in the gardens, only nursemaids—there were about half a dozen—when the persons ran up to me and took hold of me from behind, I felt alarmed—I afterwards saw these two persons running away—I did not see the face of either of them—the persons who ran away ran straight to the Botanic-walk—that was straight before me—they both ran in the same direction; they ran together—I suppose I saw them about ten minutes—I gave an alarm; I called out—no one came to my assistance—they took my watch about twenty yards from the pond—they ran to the walk, but did not get over the palings—they were taken outside—I saw Williams stopped by Croxford—that was a good mile from where I had been attacked—I did not see the persons who were running, separate from each other—I lost sight of the second person at the barracks—it was half an hour after I was attacked when I saw Baker in custody.
COURT. Q. When you lost your watch, and saw these two persons run before you, did you see any other persons running before you? A. No.
WILLIAM CROXFORD . I am a constable, of Kensington-gardens. On the day in question the prisoners were pointed out to me by the last witness—they were at that time together, and were walking by the side of the Serpentine, towards Hyde-park Corner—I might be forty yards from them when they were first pointed out—in consequence of what was said to me by the last witness I watched the prisoners—I stopped them at Knights-bridge-barracks, which might be two or three furlongs from where I first saw them—they walked all the time—when I came up I caught hold of Williams—I saw this watch in his hand, and he threw it into the middle of the road—Baker picked it up, and threw it into the area of the Life Guards Barracks, and he ran away—Fisher pursued him, and I kept Williams—I asked him his name and address, and he refused, and said I should know it another time.
Cross-examined. Q. You knew nothing about these persons till they were pointed out? A. No—Williams had the watch in his hand when I laid hold of him—he and Baker were walking together—I was not near enough to hear if they were talking together.
SAMUEL FISHER . I am a gardener—I was at work in the gardens, and saw the last witness, stop Williams—I saw him throw a watch into the road—Baker picked up the watch, and ran away—I ran after him, and stopped him about 100 yards off—previous to my catching hold of him, he said, "So help me God, I have not got it."
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see him throw away the watch? A. Yes—I had not seen him before that day—he did not say anything else.
Williams's Defence. I was going by the barracks, and I picked up this watch; I showed it to this young man, and he said, "I shall have my half;" I said, "I shall give it to the constable," and this man ran to the prosecutor, saying that I took the watch; by God, I am innocent.
(Baker received a good character.)
BAKER— GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Twelve Months.
WILLIAMS— GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Eighteen Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Six Months.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, April 10th, 1855.
PRESENT—Sir GEORGE CARROLL, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald HUNTER; and Mr. RECORDER.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Second Jury.
407. FREDERICK KEMP , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Richard Ellis, and stealing therein 13 spoons, 1 coat, and 1 hat, value 3l. 3s., having been before convicted: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
(JOSEPH SMITH, a policeman, deposed to the prisoner having been five times convicted, three of which convictions were summary; and that he had also been in custody for uttering counterfeit coin, but was discharged.)
MR. RYLAND conducted the Prosecution.
BRIDGET DOWLING . I am the wife of John Dowling. On Saturday afternoon, 17th March, about 3 o'clock, we were walking home together—there was a party of about twelve young men and boys, and three or four of them rushed against my husband, and threw him down—some were larger and some smaller than the prisoner; I call him a young man—after my husband was knocked down, the prisoner came up and struck me here (on the temple), and cut me; the blow knocked me down—Regan held me down by the arm, while one of his comrades robbed me of 8s. out of my pocket; it was loose in my pocket—he then ran away, and then Regan let me go, and went off with his comrades—they all ran away—I got up, and found I had lost my 8s.—I knew Regan well; I had known him about six months—I described him to the police, and next day, Sunday, they showed a man to me, but he was not the right person, and I would not go against him—I saw Regan after that, every day till he was taken; he used to come to the window every day gambling—a policeman brought him to my door four or five days afterwards; he is the man.
Cross-examined by MR. W. J. PAYNE. Q. Where were you coming from? A. From the west end; we had been for some flour; we make our own bread—we left home about 10 o'clock in the morning, and went over London bridge, and up the New Cut, to St. John's parish, close to Westminster Abbey—we walked there and back—we had only one quartern of spirits between us—a great many boys are playing about on Saturday afternoons—my husband got up and ran away to see if he could catch the persons—it did not take them many minutes to take my money—I saw the prisoner every day after the robbery, and when I used to get my bonnet and shawl to fetch the police, he ran away—I know the chap who took the money; I see him every day, but he always runs away—I was not the least unsteady—I knew what I was about well—I never was tipsy in my life, and my husband is a man who drinks nothing to hurt him—on the Sunday evening, when the policeman brought me the man to look at, I did not hesitate before I said whether he was the person or not—I said that I would not take a false oath for anybody—I gave information to the police two or three times—the policeman did not advise me as to what I should
do to get my money back—I call it Cross-street where this took place; I do not know what it is called, but I have lived there two years—the men and boys are always tossing when the police are away—I saw no policeman for them to run away from at the time this happened; they rushed against me; they have plenty of dens to hide them.
COURT. Q. You said that you knew one of the party, what did you mean? A. I knew him by sight, as I might know you—it is a great place for gambling, and they come under my window—it is a street shut up at one end, but they can get out of it through a public house—one end is in Nicholl-street, and the other runs into Old Nicholl-street—there are two Nicholl-streets—there is a thoroughfare, by going through the public house—when they ran away, after knocking me down, a party of them ran into the public house; my husband ran as far as the door, and they shut the door.
MR. RYLAND. Q. Can a carriage go through the street? A. Yes; at one end, but not at the other; but you can get through a public house into Old Nicholl-street.
DAVID THOMAS (policeman, H 97). A description of the prisoner was left at the station house on the same Saturday evening, but I was not present—I first received a communication from the prosecutrix on Tuesday, 19th; she described the person who she said had assisted to rob her, by person and by name as well—in consequence of that I looked for and apprehended the prisoner, who I knew, having seen him several times before—I told him I wanted him for knocking down a woman, and robbing her, on the 17th; he said that it was not him, it was some one else—I took him to the prosecutrix, and she identified him at once.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you taken somebody into custody on the Sunday? A. No; that was some other constable—I do not know where the prisoner lives, I know him by sight about there; I see him there every day—they often give me chase—the exact words that the prisoner said were, "It was not me, it was some other person"—I have not the least doubt about it—I cannot be certain whether he said, "I am not the right person. "
COURT. Q. Where did you take him? A. In Boundary-street—that is in the same neighbourhood—I took him in the open street—I did not know him by the name he gives now, but he has been at the station before in the name of Collins; I did not know him by the name of Began—the prosecutrix described him by the name of Collins.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES MULLER . I am a watchmaker, and live at No. 40, King-street, Soho. On 23rd Dec. last, the prisoner came to my shop from about 7 to 8 o'clock in the evening; it was dark—he produced to me this paper, it is in French; translated it is, "Give the bearer, if you please, a deepening tool, and put it to my account. V. Billiet"—Mr. Billiet is a watchmaker, of King-street, Cheapside—he was a customer of mine, and had an account with us—the prisoner was in the habit of calling from him—on the faith of this paper I delivered a deepening tool to the prisoner in a case; I believed that the order was genuine, and that it came from Mr. Billiet—it is a
tool which watchmakers use to cut the depths of the wheels and pinions; it is worth 16s. 6d.
VICTOR BILLIET . I am a watchmaker, of No. 28, King-street, Cheapside. This order is not my writing, it is a forgery—the prisoner has been in my service eighteen months, from 15th Nov. 1852, up to May, 1854; he was then discharged—I sometimes sent him to Mr. Muller's for orders—he was employed in my trade.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Was he ever in your employment as a regular servant? A. As a workman; he worked at a bench at my place—at the time he was taken into custody, he was employed by Mr. Geyer as an out door workman—I did hot know how he was getting a livelihood after he left me—I knew he was working for Mr. Geyer, because I used to work for Mr. Geyer at the same time—I did not know that the prisoner was in great distress after he left Mr. Geyer; I do not think he was, he can earn good wages; Air. Geyer has employed him for the last seven years.
COURT. Q. is the order at all like your writing? A. No.
JOHN HARRIS PEARCE . I am assistant to Mr. Sowerby, a pawnbroker, of No. 78, Chiswell-street. I produce a deepening tool, pawned on the morning of 23rd Dec, for 5s., in the name of John Power—I have no recollection of the person—this (produced) is the duplicate I gave.
Cross-examined. Q. Had he any other property about him? A. Yes; 2s. 5d., I think—I went to his lodging—he is married and has a family—he did not appear to be in very distressed circumstances—I found a number of clocks there belonging to the gentleman he worked for—he had a clock of Mr. Geyer's at that time.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY. Aged 50.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined Four Month.
JAMES FRANKLIN . I am assistant to Mr. Kerry, a draper, of Bishopsgate-street; the prisoner was in his employment for about five or six weeks before this occurred; he had been in the employ several times during the illness of our regular porter. On a Wednesday morning in March, about two days before I was examined before the Magistrate, I have no note of the day, we missed some dresses from the warehouse under the shop—they were ladies' summer dresses, composed of silk and woollen, worth 5l. or 6l.—Mr. Kerry gave information to the police—on the Thursday, the day after, I went with the police to the prisoner's lodging, in Hunt-street, Mile-end Town—Mr. Kerry had sent for him in the morning, and he consented to have his place searched, and we went with him—his place was searched in my presence—I found these five lawn handkerchiefs in a drawer in the room—they are all in one piece—Mr. Kerry's private mark is upon them—I asked the prisoner if he knew that they were there, and he said he knew nothing about them—they are worth 4s. 3d.—the officer found another handkerchief upon the prisoner when he was searched at Mr. Kerry's house—I have compared it with the five, and it has been torn from the same piece—we never tear them,
we always cut them—this kind of material always tears in the same way, along the thread—the border pattern is the same—there is nothing uncommon in that border.
HENRY FINNIS (City-policeman.) I was called in by Mr. Kerry to his shop—the prisoner was there—I searched him, and found this handkerchief in his pocket—I asked him who it belonged to—he said it belonged to his wife—I went with Franklin to the prisoner's lodging—I searched it and found this piece of lawn handkerchief in a drawer in a paper—I heard him asked about it, and he said he did not know how they came there.
JAMES FRANKLIN re-examined. I have not examined our stock to see whether there is any lawn of this description missing, because we could not tell what we had in stock—if we sold it, the private mark would still remain upon it—I do not know how much of this material we had in stock—we could only tell that by taking stock, or by referring to all the back invoices—that has not been done—the prisoner has a wife, she was not in the house.
Prisoners Defence. I own to having these handkerchiefs in my possession, but not to stealing them; I was taken at a nonplus at the time of being asked to have my place searched, and gave my consent, not knowing that the handkerchiefs were stolen property.
JAMES FRANKLIN re-examined. The prisoner's wife had never been a customer to my knowledge, and had not been employed at our place—the prisoner had access to the shop where the handkerchiefs were kept—it was his duty to open the shop and sweep it, take out parcels, and straighten the parcels in the warehouse—we do not enter those that are sold.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Four Months.
JOHN MACEFIELD . I am aft errand boy, of No. 49, King-street, Westminster. On Monday afternoon, 26th March, I was coining up Queen-street, Cheapside, and saw the prisoner, and a taller person, at the corner of Cannon-street—the prisoner had hold of the back of a costermonger's barrow—they ran it against a van which was going on, and then the other one laid hold of a barrel which was at the tail of the van, and pulled it into the barrow which the prisoner was wheeling—they followed the van to the corner of Bow-lane, where there is a large stack of bricks—I then told a policeman, who caught hold of the prisoner as he was going down Bow-lane—I was not alone, but I was a little behind the other witness.
EDWARD ASHFORD . I live at No. 3, St. Helen's-place, Lower Whitecross-street. On this Monday I was near the corner of Cannon-street and Queen-street—Macefield came up and spoke to me, and I saw the prisoner and another one wheeling a barrow, which they shoved underneath the axletrees of the van—the other one took a barrel from the van, and put it into the barrow—they afterwards ran the barrow up against a stack of bricks—the other man ran away, and as the prisoner was going down Bow-lane the policeman took him.
JAMES BALDWIN (city policeman, 58). Macefield pointed out the prisoner to me, wheeling a barrow, in Cannon-street West—when I went up, the other man went up Bow-lane—the prisoner tried to get between some
bricks and a boarding—I collared him, and said, "Does that barrow and barrel belong to you?"—he said, "No; it belongs to the one who has gone round the corner"—I took him back to the barrow, and told the boy to bring the carman back—he came back, and recognised the barrel as having been on his van—the prisoner said he was employed by the one who had gone round the corner—I asked him if he was employed to assist him in getting the barrel off the van—he said that he knew nothing about that.
HENRY JENKINS . I am carman to Hugh Lavington, a carman, of the Old Bailey. On Monday, 26th March, I was driving a van up King-street, with six barrels in it, which I had loaded at Billingsgate—I missed one of them directly the boys called to me, and saw it on the barrow—I had not given leave to anybody to put a barrow on my van.
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Four Months.
412. GEORGE WIGGINS and ALFRED YOUNG , burglariously breaking and entering the warehouse of Joseph Smith and another, on 1st March, at St. Pancras Soper-lane, and stealing therein 3 pencil cases, and 1 pen-making machine, value 3s. 6d. and 6s. 9d. in money; their property: both having been before convicted: to which
WIGGINS PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 20.
YOUNG PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 24. Four Years Penal Servitude.
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN ADAMS . I am a draper, of No. 20, Fore-street, Cripplegate. The prisoner was in my service about four months—in consequence of certain matters which had transpired, on 27th Feb. I marked four shillings and a sixpence; I put it in a piece of paper, and put it in my pocket; it remained there till tea time, between 5 and 6 o'clock, when I went up stairs to tea—I left the prisoner in the shop—my other shopman, Mr. George, was up stairs at tea with me, and Mumford, an apprentice—I had on a pair of heavy boots—I had suspected the prisoner for a long time—I went up stairs to the room above, and took off my heavy boots, and came down stairs very lightly, while the prisoner was at tea; I passed the door that was open as he sat at tea, and went down stairs to the shop—I put 2s. 6d. of the marked money on the desk, and gave Mr. George the two other marked shillings—Mr. George was then alone in the shop; he had not then been up to tea—I gave George certain directions with reference to the two shillings—I then went up stairs again very lightly, to the room where I had gone before, put on my heavy boots again, and came down just as the prisoner was coming out of the dining room from his tea—he went down to the shop, and I went into the tea room—Mr. George came up about half a minute afterwards, and made some communication to me—I immediately went down stairs, looked on the desk, and there found 3s. 6d.—I said to the prisoner, "Will you walk up stairs with me?"—he said, "Yes," and walked up—we went into the tea room—I shut the door, and said, "Mr. George, Mr. Richardson, one of you two is robbing me"—I addressed both of them—I said to Mr. George, "Will you show me the money that you have got in your pocket, whether it is yours, or mine?"—he showed me his money directly—I think it was half a crown, and some coppers; I do not think there were any shillings, or sixpences—none of it was marked—the prisoner then said, "Perhaps you would like to see mine?"—I said, "I should like to see the contents of your pockets"—he pulled out a porte-monnaie. and in that was
sundry silver, shillings and sixpences, in different compartments—he put them on the table—I did not touch them; I looked, and saw there was none of my marked money—I said to him, "Is that all the money you have got?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "You must feel in your pockets, as I think you have got some more, for I have just lost a shilling"—he said, "No, I have not"—he hesitated, and seemed quite confused; after a time, he put his hand into his waistcoat pocket, and said, "Oh! here is a shilling"—I looked at that shilling; it was one of those which I had marked—I told him it was mine—I told him it was a marked shilling, and showed him where it was marked—he said he had had it by him for a long time—this (produced) is it; the mark is across the "one"—I recollect the date also, 1824, and it was one of George the Fourth's—I told him that he was a very great thief, and he had been thieving from me a very long time—I did not mention the amount; I was in a very great rage with him, and told him if he did not leave my house that very minute, if I ever saw him again, I would give him into custody—he said he would, if I would let him have his boxes—I said no more, but went down stairs, got a policeman, and gave him in charge.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. After discovering, as you say, that he had been robbing you for a long time, you ordered him out of your house? A. I did not tell him to leave—I said if he did not leave the house that minute I should give him into custody—I did not hesitate one second, but sent and got a constable—I did not refuse him his property—he did not say he would not go unless he was allowed to take his box—he said he would go if I would give him his boxes—I told him he should not go up stairs—I have mentioned before to day that he said, "Oh, here is another shilling"—I mentioned it to various persons—I do not know that I mentioned it to Mr. George, because he was present at the time it was said—a week previous to this I had marked some half crowns and shillings—I will swear that I had none of that marked money in my pocket at this time—I marked all the shillings differently—George turned his money out on the table—the prisoner took his money out of his purse, and put it on the table after George took his money up—when I picked up the shilling the prisoner said, "It is my shilling, and I have had it for a long time"—I did not hear him say he had never robbed me of a farthing—I will swear he did not—he did not say he was perfectly innocent of having robbed me—he acknowledged himself guilty at the station house—I was present at the station, and the policeman also, and he said he was very sorry for what he had done—I heard his examination before the Magistrate—he said there that he was perfectly innocent—the persons I had in my employment were the prisoner, George, an apprentice, and a niece of mine—George has been in my employment between two and three years, and the apprentice going on for twelve months—I have not refused to deliver up the prisoner's clothes to his father—I was summoned before the Alderman about it—I would not give them up to strangers—I have left them in charge of the officers—I acted under the advice of Alderman Humphrey—they are now at Guildhall.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. What was it he said at the station house? A. After he was charged, the official who took down the charge asked if he had anything to say for himself—he said, No, only he was sorry for what he had done.
COURT. Q. Are you quite sure that the inspector asked him if he had anything to say for himself? A. Yes—he asked him if he had anything to
say to the charge before he was locked up, and he said, No, he had nothing to say, only he was sorry for what he had done.
JOHN GEORGE . On 27th Feb., Mr. Adams gave me two shillings, and also gave me certain directions—I took a note of whether they were marked or not—I saw that they were marked—as soon as the prisoner came down from tea I gave him a bill to the amount of 1s. 11 1/2 d., and likewise gave him the two shillings which Mr. Adams had given to me—I had made out that bill, in consequence of Mr. Adams's directions, before the prisoner came down from tea—I told the prisoner that a customer who was just gone out of the shop had paid it, and I had given the halfpenny in change—I requested him to place the two shillings on the desk—if I had received 2s. from a customer, it would be the ordinary course to give it to the prisoner, with the bill, and tell him to put it on the desk—that was done while Mr. Adams was away—the prisoner walked towards the desk—when he got to the desk he asked me whether I had taken any more money while he was up at tea—I said I had not—he said, "Then there is 3s. 6d. here altogether"—I had seen 2s. 6d. on the desk five or six minutes previous to my giving him the two shillings—no one else could have taken a shilling away from there, except the prisoner—there was no one else in the house except myself—I then went up and made a communication to Mr. Adams—he went down, and shortly returned with the prisoner—after locking the door, he said to me, "Mr. George, some one has been robbing me; have you any objection to show what money you have? I have missed a shilling since I came up to tea"—I told him I had no objection whatever to take out what money I had, and I did so—the prosecutor looked at it, and said none of them were his—he then asked the prisoner if he would show him what money he had belonging to him—the prisoner took out his purse, and took from one partition money to the amount of 5s. or 6s., I am not certain to the exact amount, and said he thought that was all he had, but on looking in another part of the purse he discovered two sixpences more—it was a purse with several divisions—the prosecutor looked at them, and said they did not belong to him—the prisoner then said that was all the money he had—the prosecutor then asked him to search his waistcoat pockets, to see whether he had not any there—after a few seconds he drew forth another shilling from his waistcoat pocket, saying, "Oh, I have got another shilling"—the prosecutor looked at that shilling, and said that was the shilling he had lost, and he asked me whether it was not one that he had given me to give to the prisoner—I took it up and looked at it, and said it was the same—the prisoner said that he had changed half a sovereign the night before, and he might have had it in that—the prosecutor asked him where he had changed it—he said he did not know the name of the house—the prosecutor told him if he chose to go out of his house, and never put foot in It any more, he was at liberty to do so, but he was not to stay another minute in the house, if he did he would give him into custody—the prisoner had told me the previous day that he had no change in his pocket less than a 5l. note after paying the washerwoman—that was about 1 o'clock in the afternoon—when Mr. Adams said if he stayed another minute he would give him into custody, he asked to have his box—the prosecutor told him if he remained another minute in the house he would call a policeman, and the prosecutor got up and went out of the room—the prisoner followed him, and he was given into custody.
Cross-examined. Q. The police constable was brought to Mr. Adams's house?A. I did not see him—I was not present when the prisoner was
given in charge; I was still at tea—the prosecutor went down stairs, and the prisoner followed him from the tea room—I was at tea when the prosecutor said, "If you do not leave my house directly, I will give you into custody"—that took place in the tea room—I do not know that he was given into custody in the house—the prisoner asked the prosecutor for his box—I should certainly imagine that he refused to leave without his things—I did not hear the prisoner say the shilling was his own—Mr. Adams was not present when the prisoner said that he had changed the half-sovereign the night before—I have never said anything about changing the half-sovereign before to-day; this is the first time I have said it—I only know the prisoner's salary from what the prosecutor has told me—I made out the bill; it was for 1s. 11 1/2 d.—no customer had been in—it was a little plan—when the prisoner asked me whether there had been any other money taken during the time he was at tea, there was no one in the shop but ourselves—the apprentice went to tea with the prisoner, and I was alone in the shop—I had not put 2s. on the desk before the prisoner said, "There is 3s. 6d. altogether;" I had seen 2s. 6d. there—I gave him 2s. telling him that I had given a customer a halfpenny—I did not Bee Mr. Adams mark this money, and know nothing about the marks more than what I have seen—all that I swear is giving the money to him; and before I gave it to him I made a memorandum of the manner in which it was marked—I have got it here (produced)—I made a memorandum respecting the two pieces of money I gave the prisoner—they were not both marked in the same manner—one of the shillings which Mr. Adams gave me still remained—I do not know where that is.
JOHN GEORGE re-examined. We have a till—in the absence of the prosecutor and his wife, if I take any money of a customer, I call one of the young men, and give it to him to place on the prosecutor's desk—those are my directions, so that one shall be a check upon the other.
JOHN HENRY SUCH (City-policeman. 116.) I was called to take the prisoner; I found him inside the shop door, took him to the station, searched him, and found on him 5s. 1 1/2 d.—he said, as near as I can say, that what had happened he was very sorry for—that was not in answer to anything—the inspector had asked him if he had anything to say, and cautioned him that he need not say anything unless he liked, and that what he said would he used in evidence against him—I believe that that was done—the inspector told him what he was charged with, and asked him if he had anything to say—I do not recollect that he gave him any caution.
Cross-examined. Q. Where did Mr. Adams find you? A. In Fore-street, 200 or 300 hundred yards from his house—he took me back to his house, and there I found the prisoner in the shop.
MR. SLEIGH to JOHN ADAMS. Q. What wages were due to the prisoner at the time this occurred? A. About a month's salary—he had 16l. a year, and his board and lodging.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character. Aged 22.— Confined Four Months.
VERGO PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.
MR. LILLET conducted the Prosecution.
URIAH TREW (City policeman. 257.) On 6th March, at noon, I was on duty on London-bridge, and received information, in consequence of which I went after Vergo, or, as he gave his name, McCarthy—he was concealing this handkerchief (produced) between himself and the parapet—he threw it over the parapet, and it fell into the pipe—Wheeler was standing close to him—I laid hold of Vergo, and Wheeler went away, and was apprehended by another constable—I got over and took the handkerchief—I did not see the prosecutor.
Cross-examined by MR. W. J. PAYNE. Q. I suppose there were a great many people walking close together? A. Yes, there generally are on London-bridge—when I received information, the prisoners were both standing still.
JOHN CORDEROY . I am a provision merchant, of No. 24, Tooley-street On Tuesday, 6th March, I was walking over London-bridge; I received information, and missed my pocket handkerchief; this is it—I had it safe between 11 and 12 o'clock.
JOHN REEVE . I am a porter, in the employ of Mr. Simpson, of the Borough. I was passing over London-bridge on 6th March, and saw the prisoners walking side by side—I saw Vergo take this handkerchief from the prosecutor's right hand pocket, and called out to him; Wheeler was on Vergo's left side—Vergo made a dead stop, turned towards the parapet, and Wheeler made a dead stop, and went directly across the road—I had seen them walking together for ten or fifteen yards distinctly, from where I first saw them, till I saw the handkerchief taken.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you meeting them? A. Yes; they were coming towards me, towards Surrey, and I was coming towards the City—there were a great many people about, but no carriages passing—it was after the policeman came up that Wheeler crossed the road.
ALFRED JOSEPH TURNER (City policeman. 320). I was on duty on London bridge on Tuesday, 6th March, and Wheeler was given into my custody by Reeves, who charged him with being in company with another and picking a gentleman's pocket—I found on him a handkerchief, a tobacco box, and 1s. 6d. in money, which I gave back by the direction of the Lord Mayor.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it a good handkerchief you found on him? A. It was a silk one (produced).
WHEELER— NOT GUILTY .
(John Henry Such, City policeman. 116, Edward Knight, City policeman. 72, and Uriah Trew, City policeman. 257, deposed, that Vergo was one of the most adept thieves in London; that he had been several times convicted, and was the associate of the worst of thieves.)
VERGO—GUILTY.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, April 10th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. CUBITT and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Sixth Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 42.— Confined Eighteen Months.
JONES PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 19.
CLARK PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22.
Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Eight Months.
PUNCHER PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Twelve Months.
PEEL PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 33.— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 30.— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 17.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
LOUISA JORDAN . My husband keeps a tobacconist's shop, in Princes-street, Edgware-road. On Wednesday, 28th Feb., about 8 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came for half an ounce of tobacco—it came to 1 1/2 d.—she gave me a florin—I believed it to be good—I gave her change, and she left the shop—I did not mix the florin with any other coin—I directly sent it next door, to get it changed, by my little girl—she returned with it in a few minutes—I found it was bad—I afterwards gave it to B 137—I did not know the prisoner before that day—I am sure she is the person.
Prisoner. Q. Can you say I came in your shop, and gave you the 2s. piece? A. Yes.
MR. BODKIN. Q. How soon afterwards did you see the prisoner again? A. On the Saturday—I have not the slightest doubt that she is the person.
ELIZABETH SOPWITH . Mrs. Jordan sent me out with the florin—I went to Mr. Gardener's, next door—he would not change it; he gave it me back—I did not see the woman it was taken from—I am sure I gave back the same florin to Mrs. Jordan—it was not out of my sight.
HENRY CURTIS . I keep a tobacconist's shop, in Carlisle-street, Edgware-road, about a quarter of a mile from Mrs. Jordan's. On 2nd March the prisoner came to my shop, about 8 o'clock in the evening—she asked for half an ounce of tobacco—it Came to 1 1/2 d.—she paid me a shilling—I gave her change, and she left the shop—after she had left I looked at the shilling
more particularly, and found it was bad—I had put it into the till, but there was no other shilling—I went to the till two minutes after to take a sixpence from another customer, and found the shilling was bad—no one had been to the till in the mean time—when I found the shilling was bad, I put a mark on it, and put it on one side—on the next evening the prisoner came again, between 8 and 9 o'clock—she asked for half an ounce of tobacco—it came to the same money, 1 1/2 d.—she paid for it with a shilling—I knew her again directly, and I said, "You have come to pay me another visit"—I found that shilling was a bad one—I said, "This is a bad shilling; I shall give you in charge"—she said she had never been in the shop before—I am certain she was in my shop the night before.
Prisoner. You put that shilling into the till, and took it out again.
Witness. No, I did not, I kept it on the counter.
HENRY ARCHER (policeman, D 137). I took the prisoner into custody—I said, "You hear what this gentleman says; he gives you into custody for passing a bad shilling, on Friday night, and tendering another to-night"—she said she got it in payment for making a stay lace—she was asked at the station where she lived—she said she had no certain place of residence—I produce these two shillings, which I received from Mr. Curtis—this is the florin I received from Mrs. Jordan.
Prisoner. I told you where I lived Witness. No, you did not.
Prisoners Defence. I went into the shop that night for half an ounce of tobacco; I had never been in the shop before; I gave him the shilling; he took me into the parlour, and told his mother to keep me till he got a policeman; I said, "You need not keep me, I won't go."
GUILTY . Aged 36.— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS FLACK . I keep the Greenland Fishery public house, in Redman's-row, Mile-end. On 24th Feb. the prisoner came and asked for some rum—he tendered me a shilling and I gave him change—before he got out of the door I discovered it was bad—I called him—he did not come back, but a young man ran after him—a constable brought him back, and I gave him in charge after the officer had found a bad half sovereign on him—he was searched in my bar.
WILLIAM CURTIS (police sergeant, K 13). I saw the prisoner running away from the last witness's—I assisted in taking him back—he was searched—I found on him six shillings in good money and a bad half sovereign, which was wrapped up in paper—he resisted very much—I received from the last witness this shilling—the prisoner wanted to get the half sovereign from me, and said it did not belong to him.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see me run away? A. Yes—I did not take hold of you—you said the half sovereign did not belong to you.
Prisoners Defence. I acknowledge having the half sovereign—I took it for my work.
GUILTY . Aged 31.— Confined Eight Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
On Friday, 26th March, the prisoner came with four or five others—he had a military great coat on—they had something to drink—the prisoner paid me a sixpence—I saw it was bad—I did not tell him so—I bent it up and put it into the fire—he did not see that, for it was after he was gone—I had given him change and thought it was good—he had not crossed the road before I found it was bad—I am sure the sixpence was bad—it all run to dross on the ashes.
Prisoner. On the 24th, when I was put on my trial, she said it was a month ago. Witness. No; I said it was last Friday week, which was the 16th of the month.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am the proprietor of the Bull, at Brentford. On 16th March, about 9 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came, and called for half a quartern of gin—he tendered me a shilling—I put it into my mouth and it gave way—I told him it was bad, and asked him where he got it—I detained him till a policeman came, and I gave him into custody—I gave the shilling to the officer—the prisoner put something into his mouth—I heard some coin rattle against his teeth—I do not know what became of that coin.
Prisoner. Q. Do you say I put some coin into my mouth? A. I heard something rattle, and I saw you put something into your mouth.
WILLIAM BRAID . I keep the John Bull, at Turnham-green. I remember the prisoner coming to my house on 16th March, between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening—he had a pennyworth of gin—he threw me down a shilling—I put it into my mouth, and found it was bad—I gave it him back, and he gave me a good one for it—he was dressed very similar to what he is now, with a great coat on.
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Eight Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH LUGG . My uncle keeps a dairy in King-street, Soho. On 19th March, about 6 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner Baker came for some eggs—I sold her two, which came to 1 1/2 d.; she gave me a shilling—I put it in a trier, and it bent—I went into the back parlour where my uncle was, and gave it him—he came back and gave it to Baker, and told her it was bad—she did not offer me another shilling; I kept the eggs, and she had the shilling, and went away.
Baker. Q. Did you not put the shilling into the till? A. No; I did not, I put it in the trier—we keep no silver in the till—I did not mix it with any other money.
WILLIAM LUGG . I keep this dairy in King-street, Soho. The last witness brought me a shilling into my room on the night in question—I followed her back to the shop, and when Baker had the shilling I stood at the door and saw Golding join Baker—they both walked off together; I followed them up Dean-street, and gave information to the constable—he took Baker, and gave her to another constable, and he ran after Golding.
Baker. Q. Did you not say it was a man with a fustian jacket; and the policeman repeated the words, and said "It is a man in a fustian jacket?" A. No; I said no such words—as to the man's jacket, I took no notice of it.
CHARLES MADGETT (policeman, C 84). On 19th March the two prisoner were pointed out to me by the last witness—I took Baker, and handed her to another officer; Golding was going on, and he was about sixty yards off—I pursued him and took him—I did not hear anything about a fustian jacket—I took the prisoners to the station—they said they knew nothing of each other, but the man was asking the woman the way to the Seven Dials—I took Golding's coat off, and found in the breast pocket of it, three counterfeit sixpences, and one counterfeit shilling; they were wrapped up separately; and 2s. 8d. in good money—Lawrence gave me this counterfeit shilling.
WILLIAM MILTON (policeman, C 74). While the prisoners were in the dock at the station, I saw Golding in the act of dropping something; I put my hand under, and caught two shillings as they were dropping from his hand, before they fell—one fell on the ground close to his feet—they were all in separate papers—I found three more counterfeit shillings in his trowsers pocket.
BAKER— GUILTY . Aged 23.
GOLDING— GUILTY . Aged 25.
Confined Eighteen Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES CARTWRIGHT . My father keeps a coffee-house in Lower Thames street. On Friday, 2nd March, the prisoner came and asked for a basin of soup and a penny loaf; he gave me a shilling—I gave him change, and he went away—soon afterwards I examined the shilling; I found it was bad—I gave it to my father—on the following Monday the prisoner came again, and asked for a basin of soup and a slice of bread—I knew him directly he came in—I gave him the soup and bread, and he handed me a shilling—I examined it, and took it to my father—we both discovered it was bad, and detained the prisoner—I had put the shilling he gave me on Friday, on a shelf by itself—the one he gave me on Monday I gave to my father.
JOHN CARTWRIGHT . I keep the coffee-shop. I saw the prisoner come in on the 2nd March—my son came and brought me a shilling, and said he doubted it, but I was busy at the time—he afterwards gave me a broken shilling—this is it—on 5th March I saw the prisoner again—he had a basin of soup and some bread—my son gave me another shilling; it was bad—I bent it, and I said to the prisoner, "Here is a bad shilling that you gave my son"—he seemed surprised, and said he had it from a man that he took a parcel for—I said, "Here is another one you gave on Friday"—he denied it, and said he had not been there on Friday—I am sure he had been there on Friday—I gave the second shilling to the officer.
Prisoner's Defence. On the Friday I went to his shop to get some soup and bread; he says he put the shilling on the shelf, and he said before, that he never let it go out of his hand; I should have thought he would have given me into custody then; I had been in the habit of going to that house.
GUILTY . Aged 33.— Confined Eight Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH ANN SPEARS . I keep a cigar shop, in Kingsland-road. The prisoner came there about 10 o'clock on 19th March—he asked for 6d. worth of cigars—I asked which he would like—he looked towards the Pickwicks—I picked out seven, and wrapped them in paper, and he gave me half a crown—I gave him 2s., and he went away—I put the half crown in the till—I had no other half crown there—when I closed the shop I took it out and put it in a small box, and took it to my bed room—the next morning I sent it by my servant to the butcher's—she brought it me back—I asked two persons in the shop if it was good—one said he wished he had a pocket full—the other said it was bad—I afterwards took it to the butter shop and they broke it.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did you ever see the prisoner before? A. No—I saw him again on the Tuesday week following, but I described him to the policeman—when he came out of the van, the policeman told me to pick him out—I did not hear the Magistrate say he was not satisfied with the identity of the man, and he should discharge him—I am positive to him by his features and the leer of his eye—I described him to the policeman.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Where was the van when he came out of it? A. At the police station—I cannot tell how many men I had seen before I picked out the man that passed the bad coin—no one pointed the prisoner out to me; I said it from my own recollection—I noticed his features, and described them to the policeman—I have not the slightest doubt about his being the person.
MARY ANN BYE . I am in the service of the last witness. I remember on the Tuesday being sent to the butcher's, opposite where we live, with a half crown—they told me it was bad, and I brought it back—I am sure I brought the same back, and gave it to my mistress—there were two gentlemen in the shop, and they looked at it—I afterwards took the same half crown to the butter shop, and they broke it in pieces—I brought back one of the pieces to my mistress—I was in the shop on the Monday night; I noticed the prisoner, but not to swear to him.
WILLIAM FINCH . I keep the Admiral Keppel, in Hoxton. On 19th March the prisoner came to my house, at a little after 11 o'clock, for a quartern of gin; he put a bottle on the counter—I served him, and he put down a bad half crown; I weighed it, and found it was bad—I told him I thought it was bad, and I was justified in detaining him and the half crown—I gave him into custody, and gave the half crown to the policeman.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he not tell you he did not know it was bad? A. Yes; he said he got it from his employer on Saturday night, and that he lived in Fitzroy-square—I told him I thought it was a late hour to come so far for a quartern of gin—he said that he had been out on the drink with a party he knew, he might say a fellow workman—there were a great many other persons round, but not my family—I knew most of them; they were neighbours—I have not any of them here.
ROBERT WENHAM (policeman, N 256). The prisoner was given into my charge—I do not recollect his saying anything—I have the half crown I received from Mr. Finch, and part of another, which I received from Mrs.
Spears—the prisoner gave his name, Walter Parry, No. 24, Cleveland-street, Fitzroy-square—I have made inquiry, and could not find any person of that name there.
Cross-examined. Q. When this man was taken before the Magistrate was he in the first instance discharged? A. Yes, and then there was another case brought forward.
SAMUEL JARMAN . I was in attendance at the police court. The first charge brought against the prisoner was Mr. Finch's, on which he was apprehended—there had been several cases before the Magistrate; some to be committed, and some discharged—I only knew of Mr. Finch's charge against the prisoner, and I said it was not sufficient; and some one said, "There is another uttering," and then Mrs. Spears came forward.
GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Eight Months.
MESSRS. BODKIN and W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
ABRAHAM JACOBS . I am a fruit salesman, in Covent-garden-market. On Sunday, 25th March, the prisoner came to my stand, and bought 100 oranges; they came to 3s. 9d.; he gave me two good shillings, and I counterfeit, and 9d. in copper—I told him one shilling was bad—he wanted it back—I told him to give me another one first—he said he had no more—I said I must have the oranges back, and I said I could not let him have the shilling—he said he would have it—I sent for the beadle, and gave him in charge.
WILLIAM GOULD . I am a beadle of Covent-garden. The last witness gave the prisoner in charge, and gave me this shilling—I took the prisoner to the station, and found on him another counterfeit shilling and five good shillings—he said he took one bad shilling in the street on Saturday night, and that the girl took another.
Prisoner's Defence. I took one shilling from a man, and my girl gave me one at home; I went to buy these oranges, and I gave him a shilling; he said it was bad, and sent for the beadle and took me up; I have two little girls at home, and no one to look after them; this prosecutor knows it; he has known me for two years in "The Garden."
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. ELLIS and W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH SARAH RIDDALL . I am a tobacconist, and live at No. 16, New Gravel-lane, Shadwell. On Monday afternoon, 5th March, the prisoner came and asked for a quarter of an ounce of tobacco—he gave me a penny—he then looked out a "Family Herald," and gave me a shilling—I found it was bad—I gave it him back, and told him to go—he hesitated, and looked at it, and said he took it in change—he went away—I went a little way after him, and then I sent my sister—he came past the shop afterwards, and I gave him into custody—this is the shilling the prisoner gave me—it has my teeth mark on it.
Prisoner. Q. What did I ask for when I came into the shop? A. A
quarter of an ounce of tobacco—when I found the shilling was bad I laid it on the glass case—you were in the shop about ten minutes—I will swear you gave me the counterfeit shilling.
GEORGE ROGERS . I am beadle of Shadwell. I followed the prisoner up Fox's-lane—he kept looking behind him every now and then, and when he got to a turning he ran—I ran after him, and saw him drop a piece of paper—I took it up, and went and took him—I asked him what he had dropped—he said, "Nothing"—I said, "You have," and the paper had two shillings in it—I asked him if he had any more—he said, "No"—he was about putting his hand into his pocket—I put my hand into his pocket, and found one shilling and one sixpence, both bad.
Prisoner. Q. How far was I from you? A. You were ten or twelve yards when you dropped this—I asked you if you had any more, and you said you had no more.
WILLIAM CHARLES POTTER (policeman, K 212). The prisoner was given to me by Rogers, and these three shillings—I told the prisoner he was charged with having three counterfeit shillings in his possession—he said he found them near Wapping Church—I asked him where he lived—he said "In Whitechapel"—I said, "Whereabouts?" and he said, "I don't know."
Prisoner's Defence. I found these three shillings wrapped in paper near Wapping Church, at the edge of the path; I picked them up, not knowing they were bad; I asked for the "Family Herald," and gave the shilling; she gave it me back, and I went out; if—I had been aware they were bad I should have thrown them away; when the man took me, I handed him the shilling that I offered the woman for the "Family Herald."
GUILTY . Aged 28.— Confined Eight Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN PENNINGTON . My father keeps a tobacconist's shop—I sometimes serve there—I saw the prisoner on 13th Feb.; she asked for half an ounce of tobacco and a valentine; that came to a penny, and the tobacco to 1 1/2 d.—she gave me a shilling; I gave her 9 1/2 d. change; she left the shop—I put the shilling in the till; there was no other there—my sister spoke to me, and I looked in the till and found a bad shilling, and no other shilling near it—I put it by itself, and gave it to the policeman.
Prisoner. Q. You said you could almost say it was me? A. No; I said I was certain it was you.
ANN PENNINGTON . I am the wife of John Pennington. On 17th Feb. the prisoner came and asked for half an ounce of tobacco and "Reynolds's Miscellany;" they came to 2 1/2 d.; she gave me a shilling—I saw it was bad, and I called an officer, and gave her into custody—I gave the officer the shilling.
Witness for the Defence.
MARY ANN BAYNES . I live in Dunning's-place, Dunning's-alley—I knew the prisoner before her mother died—she came to my place to work on the Tuesday—she was at work from half-past 9o'clock in the morning till 10 o'clock at night—she never went outside the door, further than to get some potatoes for my husband's dinner, which is only two doors from where I live; that was on the Tuesday, before she was taken up on the Saturday.
Cross-examined by MR. ELLIS. Q. How far is Dunning's-alley from Farringdon-street? A. About twenty minutes' walk—I sent her for some potatoes—I did not see where she went—she had no bonnet or shawl on—I was up stairs with a bad foot, and could not go out on errands myself—I recollect that this was on the Tuesday.
GUILTY . Aged 18.— Confined Six Months.
MR. ELLIS and W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH LANE . I am a general dealer, and live in Bride-lane. On 8th March the prisoner came a little before 10o'clock at night, for half an ounce of tobacco—it came to 1 1/2 d. he put down a bad 3d. piece—I told him it was bad, and I gave it to the officer who was going by the window—I wanted to get to the door, but the prisoner would not let me—I gave the officer the piece, and he took the prisoner into custody.
Prisoner. You said it was bad; I said I did not know it; you flew at me like a cat, and wanted to tear all my hair off my head. Witness. No; I did not.
GEORGE BATTY (City-policeman. 323). I took the prisoner on Thursday, 8th March—he was given into custody by the last witness—I told him he was charged with passing a bad 3d.-piece—he said he did not know it was bad—in taking him to the station he put his hand into his pocket, which I seized, and something dropped on the ground, which was a bad 4d. piece—I found on him one penny good.
Prisoner's Defence. I was coming along the Strand, and a man asked me to help him, which I did; he said, "Here is a trifle to get something to drink;" I did not know it was bad, I put my hand in my pocket to throw the 4d.-piece away.
GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eight Months.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, April 11th, 1855.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Mr. JUSTICE ERLE; Sir GEORGE CARROLL, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Mr. Justice Erie and the Third Jury.
436. GEORGE BONESS RICHARDSON , stealing, whilst employed under the Post-office, a post letter, containing a half guinea, 2 sixpences, penny postage stamps, and 1 lock of hair, the property of the Postmaster General; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 16.— Judgment Respited.
437. ARSCOT ELLIOTT , stealing, whilst employed under the Post-office, a certain post letter, containing a bill of exchange for 35l., one for 38l. 4s., one for 64l. 4s., a 20l. bank-note, and a 5l. note; the property of the Post-master General.
MESSRS. CLARKSON and BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES RICHARD TURNER . I am a traveller, in the employment of Messrs. Southey and Co., of Lincoln's-inn Fields. On 4th March last, I was at Manchester on their business, and remitted to them, by post, a sum of money and securities—I have here a memorandum of the contents of the letter—there was a bill of exchange for 35l., another for 38l. 4s., a third for 64l. 4s., a 20l. Bank of England note, and a 5l. note of the Nottingham Banking Company—I sealed up the letter with those contents, and addressed it to Messrs. Southey and Co., 30, Parker-street, Lincoln's-inn Fields, London—I posted it myself at Manchester, about half-past 2o'clock in the afternoon—that is before the London mail leaves—I afterwards learnt that that letter had not reached its destination—this is the 20l. note that I enclosed (looking at it.)
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did you take the number of the note before you posted it? A. Yes, the number and letter—this is the paper in which I made the entry at the time.
JOHN TUFFNELL . I am a clerk in the post-office at Manchester—a letter posted there at half past 2o'clock in the afternoon would be dispatched to London at 9o'clock at night, and would arrive in London about 5o'clock in the morning—I made up the bag that night—I put in all the letters I found in the office, made it up, and sealed it in the ordinary way.
JOHN SHEE LAWLOR , I am a clerk in the General Post-office in London. I was on duty on 5th March, at the time of the arrival of the general post letters from Manchester—I saw the bag that arrived from Manchester—I untied and opened it—it was fastened and sealed in the ordinary way—I took out the letters, and passed all the town letters over—they are sent down to an extra table to be sorted—I cannot say whether the prisoner was on duty that morning—he was in the employment of the office.
Cross-examined. Q. Was your duty in the sorting room? A. No.
JAMES HAWKINS . I am a messenger in the General Post-office; the prisoner was a letter carrier there. On the morning of the 5th March he was there at 5o'clock, assisting in the circulation department—he was sent to the extra table, where the Manchester letters for town are opened and examined—a letter addressed to Lincoln's-inn Fields would go to that table in the regular course.
Cross-examined. Q. The prisoner's duty was that of a letter carrier, was it not? A. Yes; he was only occasionally made use of in any other department—I do not know where he delivered letters—there is a book kept called the Morning Attendance Book—I have it here—the prisoner was not engaged in sorting on this morning—he was at the table where the Manchester letters are opened and examined—there were other persons whose duty it was to open the bundles and examine and sort the letters—it was the prisoner's duty to take away the letters, as they were examined, to be stamped—after a man has performed a specific duty, he is required to sign the attendance book—the prisoner's signature is in this book for his attendance
at 5 o'clock—there is no other signature of his here indicating that be performed any particular duty that morning, but there is no place in the book for the extra table duty—there are a good many persons employed at the extra table; there may be a dozen or more.
JAMES BROWN . I am a letter carrier—my walk includes Parker-street, Lincoln's-inn Fields—I delivered the general post letters in that district on 5th March—I delivered accurately all that I had to deliver that morning.
WILLIAM SOUTHEY . I am one of the firm of Southey and Co., of Parker-street, Lincoln's-inn Fields. I did not receive any such letter as has been described posted from Manchester on 4th March—it never reached me, or its contents.
JAMES EADY . I am an accountant, by business—I am also in the practice of making wagers on horse races—I have known the prisoner about a year and a half—I knew him by the initials of "C. B."—I have made several bets with him—I know the 20l. note produced—I took it from the prisoner about 9th March, on account of a bet—I marked it when I took it, with the initials of "C. B.," in pencil, and they are here now—about a fortnight afterwards, Peak, the officer, applied to me about that note—in consequence of what Peak said to me I accompanied Thornton, the officer, next morning to the Strand—I saw the prisoner in Wellington-street, and pointed him out to Thornton as the person from whom I had received the note.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe, in paying and receiving in betting transactions, money passes very loosely from hand to hand? A. Very; it comes into one hand, and goes out of the other—a man may take a bundle of notes from one person, and hand them to another, without doing more than barely looking at the amount—there is frequently a good deal of confusion in the settling of racing accounts—I have had bets with the prisoner for a considerable time—I do not know that I have had bets with other persons connected with the Post-office—I had no idea that the prisoner was connected with the Post-office—it was in Exeter-street, Strand, that I received this note from him; it was at a place where there was a settling going on—several persons were paying and receiving money—it was on a number of small races—there was not a considerable number of bank notes passing from hand to hand that morning; we had not a very large settling then—my settling docs not extend to anything like 10,000l. or 20,000l.
COURT. Q. Were you the intermediate person between several who had bets for and against? A. Yes; I had to settle, to pay and receive—it was not a settlement for very large amounts—the largest amount I had to receive that day for one man was 15l.—it is not an office—if persons make their bets through me, they would have to pay and receive through me—this was a settlement in which I was concerned on both sides, and I had to receive and pay in respect of all the betters that came there—the largest account that day was 15l.—that was not the prisoner's—he had to pay eight sovereigns.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. About how many persons were there that day about the time when the prisoner was there? A. I cannot say; not above three or four—I cannot recollect how long before that I had had a settlement with the prisoner—I cannot say whether it was two or three days before—I think it was not the day before—I could not say that I had not within two or three days previously.
COURT. Q. Are there not settling days periodically within a certain length of time after the races? A. Yes—I could not, without referring to my book, tell whether there were many races about that time.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. When you settled with him about the 9th, had he
the dress of a letter carrier? A. No—I had no means at all of knowing that he was connected with the Post-office.
STEPHEN THORNTON (police inspector). On 23rd March I went to Wellington-street, Strand, about 10 o'clock in the morning, with Eady—the prisoner came there about half past 11 o'clock—Eady pointed him out to me—after he had left him, I went across the road, and told him that I was a police officer; that he had changed a 20l. note with Mr. Eady, which had been stolen from the Post-office; that it would be necessary for him to go to the Post-office to explain; and I said, "I have no doubt you will be able to explain how it came into your possession"—he replied, "Yes"—he was not dressed as a postman; he was in plain clothes—I asked him his name, and afterwards asked him if he belonged to the Post-office, and he said, u Yes"—I took him to the Post-office—he gave me his address, and I afterwards went there with Peak.
MATTHEW PEAK . I am a constable belonging to the Post-office. I obtained this note from the Bank on 22nd March—I traced it through different hands, and at length to Mr. Eady—in consequence of what I learned, I made a communication to inspector Thornton—I saw Thornton on the morning of the 24th, with the prisoner in his custody—I think the prisoner's salary is 25s., with the addition of 2s. or 3s. a week for extra duty—when he was brought in by Thornton, he was asked if he had changed a 20l. note to Mr. Eady—he saidi yes, he had—he asked to look at the note—it was shown him, and he said., "Yes, that is the note I paid to Mr. Eady"—he was asked where he got it from—he said he picked it up in the Strand, between Holywell-street and Temple-bar, wrapped up in a bit of paper, in company with a 5l. note, and, I understood him to say, twelve sovereigns, but at Bow-street he said four sovereigns and a half—he was asked if there was any letter with it—he said, no; it was wrapped up in a bit of paper, and all that was on the paper was, "With Mr. Medhurst'a compliments"—he said he found it about three days before he paid it to Mr. Eady—he was asked if he had mentioned it io any one, or shown the note to any one—he said, no, he had not; he had been to a coffee-shop for eight mornings after he picked it up, to look at the Supplement of the Times, to see if it had been advertised—he was asked whether the 5l. note was a Bank of England note or a country note—he said he could not tell—he was asked what he had done with it—he said he had paid it to Mr. Thorpe, I think he said, of Jermyn-street—I know Mr. Thorpe; he is a betting man—I accompanied Thornton to the prisoners lodgings, and there found three 10l. notes, a deposit receipt for 60l., a promissory note for 20l., one for 10l., and one for 4l.
Cross-examined. Q. What was the prisoner's district? A. Pall Mall—he has been in the employment of the Post-office, to my knowledge, eight or nine years; I have known him myself that time, it may have been ten years—I believe he is not the only person connected with the Post-office that bets; I do not know it personally, I never bet—I believe it is not forbidden—we do not encourage it, and if we know they are betting they are dismissed—I searched the prisoner's lodging immediately on taking him into custody—he has a wife, but no family.
RICHARD ADYE BAILEY . I am in the accountant's office of the Bank of England. This 20l. note has the cyphers "G G," and is numbered, 06091, dated 22nd Jan. 1855—it was issued by the Bank on 22nd Feb. last—it was brought into the Bank on 14th March—no other note of that number and date was ever issued.
west end, where persons pay and receive money for settling bets, the same as at Tattersall's.
GUILTY. Aged 31.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his previous good character.— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS CASTLES . On Sunday morning, 25th Feb., I was returning from work, in company with John Tramplett, and going up Maze-lane, I saw an apron string, lying on the snow—I pulled it up, thinking it was a bundle of rags, and found it to be a child—it was quite dead—I gave notice to a policeman.
JOHN SCOTNEY (policeman, T 18). From information I received, I went to the place, and there found the child, it was a boy—I took it to the Railway Hotel, and sent for a surgeon—on 28th Feb., I took the prisoner into custody; I told her she was charged with causing the death of her child by placing it in a heap of snow, in a lane, in the parish of Isleworth—she said nothing for a time—her sisters, who were there at the time, said she was a wicked and cruel girl—she said, "A good job"—she afterwards said that the child died in her arms, and what could she do with it—I then told her that she must accompany me to Brentford—I got a cab, and as we were on our road to the Waterloo Station, she said, "I done it; I am very sorry for it; what do you think I shall get done to, shall I be transported?"—I said, "I really cannot tell"—she said she was very sorry she had done it.
JOHN MACKINLAY . I am a surgeon. On Sunday morning, 25th Feb., I was sent for to the Railway Inn, to see a child that had been taken from the snow—I examined it externally; there were some reddish marks or patches on the face, but nothing, viewed externally, to account for its death—next day I made a further examination; I observed some similar spots on the extremities—the cause of death was congestion of the lungs—I could not say from what cause that arose, cold or various things might cause it.
COURT. Q. Cold would be enough; would it? A. If life was destroyed by cold, I should expect to find a congested state of the lungs—anything that obstructed breathing, would account for congestion of the lungs—there was nothing by which I could form a judgment except the congested state of the lungs; many things would cause that congestion without any intentional act on the part of the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BURKITT . I am a Fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, and am a surgeon at Guy's Hospital. On 21st March my attention was called to the state of a lad named Samuel Sullock, in Guy's Hospital—as regarded his general health, it was excessively low, and his mental condition was almost idiotic—he had a remarkably idiotic appearance, and had very great difficulty in replying to questions—we endeavoured to elicit whether that state was constitutional, or from his state of health; and whether he had ever had any fits—there were wounds over his legs, and on the abdomen, in different processes of healing; wounds on the hands, and bruises on the left hand particularly; a wound on the nose, and two wounds on the head, which were seen after the head was shaved—the wounds on the legs and body were only skin deep; that on the head had affected all the tissues external to the skull, considerable contusion being around the wounds on the head; the pericranium
was separated, as the result of the injury; it ought to have been firmly in contact with the skull—I ascertained that before death, because I was called upon to make an incision, to see whether there was not some matter there—I attended him up to the time of his death, on the 25th; I saw him three or four times a day—I did not discover, during his life, that he was suffering from bronchitis, or from any positive disease—he had no cough that I heard—on the 22nd he rather recovered, and he ate a very good breakfast; but after that we never could get him to take nourishment, and he died on the 25th—I was present when the post-mortem examination was made by Dr. Wilsh—all the organs of the body were perfectly healthy, with the exception of the lungs—the lungs were what is generally termed congested, the air cells full of fluid, the tubes of the lungs were inflamed, and obstructed by thick mucus—those are the usual signs of bronchitis—I should say that bronchitis was the primary cause of death—I examined the skull; it was healthy as regards the bone, and diseased as regards the separation of the pericranium from the bone—the separation was about two inches in diameter—there was no injury inside the skull, and the brain was perfectly healthy; there was no wound about the body which was sufficient to account for death—they were precisely such wounds as would be inflicted by a blunt instrument, those on the head especially.
COURT. Q. Assuming the blows to have been from a broomstick, can you say that death was accelerated by those blows? A. I think not; I think he had no wound but what he would have recovered from—if the blows had never been given, the bronchitis might have terminated fatally; at the same time, it might have been recovered from—there is a form of bronchitis that we may associate with, and do meet with, after such injuries—it is not free from doubt; it would be a very good question for medical discussion, I think, but nothing more.
NOT GUILTY .
(There was another charge against the prisoners, for which see Old Court, Friday.)
PLEADED GUILTY .
JACKSON PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. CLARKSON and BAYLEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HENRY CROSS . I am shopman to Messrs. Tapper and Son woollen drapers, of No. 74, Bishopsgate-street. On Tuesday, 13th Feb., the prisoners came to our shop, between 5 and 6 o'clock—I did not know them before—they asked me to show them some black cloth to make an over coat—I cannot say which spoke first—I showed them several pieces—the tailor especially examined the cloths; I mean Cracknell—he selected the piece, and told me to cut off a quantity sufficient to make a coat—they selected satin for a waistcoat, some doe skin, for trowsers, and some material for trimmings; the articles came to 3l. 16s.—Cracknell told me to pack the parcel up, that he was going into the City, and would call for the parcel on his return—he then left the shop, leaving Jackson there—I packed up the goods, and made out the bill—I gave Jackson the bill, and he gave me a 10l. note—I asked him to write his name on it, and he wrote "J. Smith," and gave the note to me—I asked him for his address, and wrote it myself; it was Bridge-street, Hoxton—there was a number, but I forget it now—I
gave the note to the cashier; this (produced) is it—I got a 5l. note from the cashier, and 1l. 4s. in money, which I gave to Jackson, and he left the shop—about half an hour afterwards, Cracknell called for the parcel; I gave it him, and asked him for his address; he gave me the address of "Cracknell, Enfield"—he took the parcel away with him—I solicited his favours for the future, and told him we should be very glad to do business with him; he said he would do so.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. I believe he took away something else besides the parcel, did not he? A. Yes, a little commission, which we are in the habit of allowing—he represented himself as a tailor, and selected the goods for the other man as a customer; that is the custom of tailors.
CHARLES CRACKNELL . I live at Enfield Town, and have done so about twenty-five years—there are several persons of my name living at Enfield—I never saw or knew the prisoner, Cracknell—he does not live at Enfield to my knowledge; if he had lived at Enfield in the name of Cracknell I should have known it—the Cracknells that I know living at Enfield are market gardeners—I am a tailor—there is no other tailor of my name living at Enfield.
Cross-examined. Q. You know all the other Cracknells of Enfield intimately, do you? A. Yes, every one of them; there are four or five—they are not related to me—I do not profess to extend my knowledge to their relations—I gave a list of the other Cracknells to the officer.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. That was a list of the persons you knew? A. Yes—the prisoner was not one of them—there is no other tailor at Enfield except myself.
HEPHZIBAH MARKHAM . I am a widow—I keep a hosier's shop at No. 16, Jewin-street, and am a niece of the prisoner, Cracknell. On 10th Feb., between 10 and 12 o'clock in the forenoon, Cracknell came to my shop with Jackson—Cracknell said the person with him was going to Australia, and was wanting something in my way—Cracknell went up stairs to see my mother, his sister; she was then on a visit at my hous—while he was up stairs, Jackson purchased some goods; I cannot recollect all of them; there was some hosiery and handkerchiefs; they came to 1l. 2s. 2 1/2 d.—he said he was going to Australia, and what he was purchasing he should be wanting—Cracknell afterwards came down stairs into the shop, and went to Jackson—I put the articles he had purchased into paper, and gave them to Jackson, and he produced what appeared to be a 5l. Note—I asked him if he had not got change; he said, "No, he had not"—Cracknell was present at the time—I told Eliza Varley, my assistant, to go and get change—she was not gone long—she returned with change—I gave Jackson four sovereigns, and he gave me half a crown; that was in Cracknell's presence—on the following Friday, the note was returned to me by Miss Vickress, marked "forged" all over—this is it (produced)—on receiving the note from Miss "Vickress, I went with her and another friend to No. 3, King-street, Commercial-road East, where Cracknell lived—we went in and saw him—I asked him if he could tell me anything of the person that was with him, that gave me the note—he took a written note from his pocket, and said he knew nothing of him any further than he had received this note—this is the note he produced—(Read: "London, Feb. 13, '55. Sir—You will please to deliver my parcel at the Star Coffee-house, Drury-lane, on Monday, before 5 o'clock, and I will leave the money there. Yours, etc., G. Parkins. To Mr. Cracknell, King-street, Commercial-road. "Addressed, "To Mr. Cracknell, tailor and draper, No. 3, King-street, Commercial-road, George's-in—the East, London")—he said that he
knew nothing further of him, but that that was where he had to take the clothes to; upon that I returned home—in the course of the same afternoon, Cracknell called upon me—he said he was very sorry it had happened; that he had got quite the amount of goods in his possession; and I should not be the loser by the note—he said the goods belonged to the party that came with him, or something to that effect—he then left, and returned again in the evening, and we went to Miss Vickress—I took 5l. With me—I gave that to Mr. Vickress, and received this note in exchange—Cracknell and I parted at the door of Mr. Vickress, and went different ways—on the following Monday, I went to Drury-lane in company with a friend named Friend—I went there to receive the money for the note—Monday was the time appointed by this note, and I went in accordance with that suggestion—I found Cracknell there; he was standing at the corner of some street—there was no such place as the Star coffee-house—we walked about for some time; half an hour or more, perhaps—I saw Cracknell and his brother; the brother had a bundle, and there was another man named Lancaster with them—Cracknell said they had been looking for the Star coffee house, and could not find such a place, and he could not do anything further than to give me the clothes—I went with Mr. Friend and them to a public-house, and Cracknell put the clothes in a parcel, and gave them to us—upon receiving the clothes, Mr. Friend drew up this paper for me to give to Cracknell—(read: "Received of Mr. Cracknell, two coats, and two pairs of trowsers, for money due, and if not called for in a fortnight shall become my property. For H. Markham. John Friend. 19th Feb., 1855."—I gave that to Cracknell, and the forged note—I think his brother had the forged note in his possession at the time—I saw him give it to Cracknell—1 had given it to his brother the evening before—on the Tuesday, in the following week, I saw Moss, the police-officer—in consequence of what I learnt from him, I went next day, Wednesday, to the Police Court, and there saw Cracknell in charge—Moss has the clothes which I received from Cracknell's brother.
Cross-examined. Q. Cracknell is your uncle? A. Yes; he is a tailor by trade, and his brother also—I have known the prisoner all my life—until within the last six or eight months, he was carrying on business as a tailor, on his own account—I do not know whether he was working for any firm—when he came to my house, he was residing in King street, Commercial-road, with his wife—previously to that, he lived in St. Mary-axe, I think—his brother did not live with him—I do not know whether King-street is near Mr. Matthews's; I did not know King-street before I went that day—I have heard my uncle say that he had been in the employ of a Mr. Matthews for the last several months; that is all I know of it—I do not know that there was any person but myself in my shop at the time the prisoner came, with the exception of my assistant; there might be, I do not know; she was not present all the time—I was in the shop the whole of the time; I am perfectly clear that Cracknell was in the shop at the time the 5l. note was paid—he had gone up stairs while Jackson was selecting the goods—Cracknell was in the shop when I sent my assistant out with the note for change—he was in the shop before I had done serving Jackson—I did not observe, when Jackson took out the note, whether he had any more notes with him—I did not observe where he took it from—when I went to King-street, I found my uncle alone; he was at work making up clothes; it was there he showed me the written note, and said he knew nothing more of the man, than that was where he was to take the clothes—
the day I went to Drury-lane was the day mentioned in this note—Cracknell and his brother were there, and one of them had the clothes with him; Mr. Lancaster was there when we met them—I have never heard any imputation upon my uncle's character for honesty and integrity.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. I believe you had very little knowledge of him? A. I have always been living in the country up to the last two years—I was not intimate with him for the last six months; I knew him very well before—I had heard him say he was living in King-street—I believe he formerly kept a tailor's shop in St. Mary axe—I have been there—I have known him since I have been in London, two years; I knew he was carrying on his business—I knew nothing further of him—I had had no dealings with him.
ELIZA VARLEY . I am assistant to Mrs. Markham, On Saturday, 10th Feb., I remember the two prisoners coming to her shop—I saw Jackson lay a note on the counter—Mrs. Markham told me, in Cracknell's presence, to go and change the note—I went it to vickress's, gave it to Miss Vickress, and she gave me change—I took the change to Mrs. Markham, and she gave it to Jackson—I am certain that the note I gave to Miss Vickress was the one I received from Mrs. Markham.
MARY ANN VICKRESS . I am the niece of Mr. Thomas Vickress, a wine merchant, of No. 45, Aldersgate-street. On 10th Feb. a 5l. note was handed to me by the barmaid, in Varley's presence—this is it—I wrote on it, "Markham, No. 16, Jewin-street, 10—2—55"—I placed it in the desk, and handed the change to the barmaid, who passed it to the bar—the note was afterwards paid into the bank with other money, and was afterwards returned to me, stamped "forged," as it is now—I afterwards accompanied Mrs. Markham to King-street, Commercial-road; we found Cracknell there—Mrs. Markham asked him if he knew anything of the party that had given her the note—he said he knew nothing more of him than that he had been working for him, and he believed he was going to Australia; or, he did not know whether he was gone—I said it was strange that he should take a party, of whom he knew nothing, to get a note changed with his niece—he said that he never hesitated in taking money himself from people that he knew nothing of, and never saw again, if it was in the way of business—he produced this note, and said that was all he knew of the man; he had received that communication from the party he was working for, and he was to leave the clothes at the Star coffee house.
JOHN FRIEND . I am a draper, at Bromley, near Bow. In Feb. last, I accompanied Mrs. Markham to Drury-lane, in search of the Star coffee house; I do not remember the day—I wrote this receipt in a public house in Drury-lane for Mrs. Markham, at her request—I understood Cracknell to say that the prisoner Jackson was not forthcoming, and he would recompense her for the loss if he had the money; but as he had not the money, he would deposit the goods with her until such time as he had the money to give her—that was what I understood him to say; but it is only from recollection—I felt no interest in the case—I heard nothing said about an accomplice.
HENRY FUTCHER . I am shopman to Mr. Winder, a hosier, of No. 104, High-street, Shoreditch. On Friday evening, 9th Feb., about 6 o'clock or half past, the two prisoners came together to our shop—they bought several articles—each bought articles for himself, and each paid for his own—Jackson had a dirty appearance.
HENRY LANCASTER . I keep a beer shop, in Middle-street, Cloth Fair. I have known Cracknell between two and three years—on Monday, 12th Feb., he came to my house about 2 o'clock in the day—he called for a pint
of ale and went into the parlour—Jackson came in about five or ten minutes afterwards, and asked if there was a gentleman named Cracknell waiting—I opened the parlour, and showed him in—when I went in they were talking about selling a horse—Cracknell had a horse for sale, belonging to his master, Mr. Matthews, I believe—I followed Jackson into the room, I did not take notice of how they saluted each other—I was ordered to bring in a pint of spiced ale—I went for it, and when I came back they were talking about the sale of a horse—I did not notice the names they called each other—I had nothing to draw my attention in particular to this matter—I cannot tell what it was that Cracknell said about the horse—they could not come to terms about the horse, and they were talking about a suit of clothing—I went in and out once or twice—I cannot tell you everything—I was in there when Cracknell measured Jackson for a suit of clothes—I heard the order given—Cracknell said he would make a suit for 6l.—they were to be finished on that day week—Jackson said he should be up to market on the Monday, and they were to be brought to my place—they wanted change then for a note, because Jackson was to pay down 1l. deposit to Cracknell after he took the measure—Jackson first produced a 10l. note—I could not give change for that, but I could for a 5l., and he then produced a 5l. note—I brought it out, and told Mrs. Lancaster to go up and get change for 5l., which she did, and Jackson followed me out and came to the bar—I got. the pen and ink, and said, "Write your name down," and he put down "Samuel Brown"—Cracknell was not present then, he was in the parlour—I also saw the name of George Groom on the note, above where Jackson wrote—this is the note produced)—I gave Jackson change, three sovereigns, two half sovereigns, and 1l. in silver—Cracknell was in the parlour during-this time—Jackson wrote the name at the bar—Cracknell came out after I gave Jackson the change, and he gave Cracknell a sovereign that he was to have for a deposit, and Cracknell wrote a receipt on a bit of paper, "Received, one sovereign," and he was to have the things made that day week—they had a talk together a bit, and they had another glass of ale, and stopped a quarter of an hour or so at the bar, and then Jackson left—I dare say Cracknell stopped half an hour or three quarters more with me talking—I put the note in my pocket, and when I went to bed I put it up stairs—there was no other note—on the Friday or Saturday afterwards, Cracknell returned to my house—he said, "I understand my niece has been taking a bad 5l. note, Lancaster, and I hope yours is not the same"—I said, "I hope not, either"—I showed him the note, and he said, "We will go down to the bank with it on Monday morning"—I think this was on Saturday—I was rather uneasy to know whether it was good or bad, and I went down with it myself on the Monday—when I came back, Cracknell was at my place, waiting—"I said, "Cracknell, this is the same as your niece took, a bad 5l. note"—he said, "Well, Lancaster, you shall not be the loser, for I will pay you as soon as I can raise the money."—I said, "Do, because I want to pay it away"—which he did; he even pledged his things to make me the money—I was not present when he pledged them, but I have no doubt of it—he paid me the money in three instalments—he looked at the note when I brought it back, and he saw the names on it—he did not make any remark upon them—in the course of the same day I went with Cracknell to Drury-lane, to see if we could find Jackson—Cracknell went to his brother s, in the Strand, to get the clothes—I went with him—he said he had received a letter to take them to the Star coffee house, Drury-lane—he had no bundle when he started—he went
up a passage near Temple-bar—I went with him, but I did not go to his brother's place, I waited outside—I had never been there before—I know it was his brother's, because his brother came down with him with the bundle—we then went to Drury-lane, and met Mrs. Markham and Mr. Friend.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know Cracknell previously to this? A. Yes, for two or three years, and always found him a very honest and respectable man—I believe he was in the employ of Mr. Matthews, a publican, for the last twelve months—he formerly kept a house in St. Mary Axe, as a tailor, and also in Aldersgate-street—I never knew any imputation against him.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you know Jackson? A. I did not; I never saw the man before that day.
JOSEPH TRADD . I am shopman to Messrs. Bartram and Harvey, woollen drapers, of No. 74, Holborn-hill. On Monday, 12th Feb., the prisoners came to the shop together, between 5 and 6 o'clock in the evening—I did not know either of them before—they conversed together at times—that enabled me to ascertain that Cracknell was a tailor—he asked for beaver cloth to make a great coat—I took some down at 10s. or 11s. a yard—they both looked at it—Cracknell decided it not to be good enough, so I got others that were better—they decided upon what cloth they would have—took no notice of what they said to each other—they did talk to each other, and they decided to have better cloth, and I cut off the length they required; it was only for one—Cracknell then asked for doeskins for trowsers—I showed them some—they looked at several pieces—there was some conversation between them as to the length they wanted, and they purchased enough for two pairs of trowsers and two vests—Cracknell then said they wanted vestings, and I passed them on to Mr. Grant.
Cross-examined. Q. Look at those things (some clothes produced by Moss); are those the things they purchased? A. The only thing I could swear to would be the doeskin for the trowsers—this is it—these trowsers form a portion of the doeskin.
RALPH GRANT . I am a shopman to Messrs. Bartram and Harvey. On Monday, 12th Feb., the two prisoners were passed on to me by the last witness—Cracknell asked to be shown some fancy silks for waistcoats—they both decided upon having a length or two for fancy waistcoats—they talked together frequently—I cut off the silk for the waistcoats, and some lining—the things amounted to 5l. 7s. 6d.—Jackson paid for them; he gave me a 10l. note and half a sovereign, and I was to bring him in change a 5l. note—I took the note, and asked him to write his name at the back of it, which he did—he wrote "J. Parkins, Hoxton"—this (produced) is the note—he wrote this in my presence—Cracknell was standing by the side of him at the time, so that he could see what he wrote—I wrote on the note "Grant," and the date "12—2—55"—I am certain this is the note—I took it to the counting house, and gave it to the cashier—I brought the change in coin, and gave it to Jackson—he put it into his purse, or pocket—Cracknell then took the parcel, and went as far as the door with Jackson; he then told Jackson he should be with him directly, and he returned to the shop and got a commission—he then followed me again from the counting house to the shop, where we saw Jackson looking at another piece for a waistcoat—he bought it, and paid for it—during this time Cracknell spoke about Mr. Bartram, and he also said that he had known him when he was in Suffolk—he asked me his Christian name, and I told him.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe Mr. Bartram does come from Suffolk, does
he not? A. He does he is not here—I had seen Cracknell at our shop before, a few times, I think—I served him once myself—he buys goods which tailors ordinarily buy.
JOHN MOSS (City policeman, 225). In consequence of information, on Tuesday, 27th Feb., I went to the Beehive public house, in King-street, Commercial-road East, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon—I went into a little room at the back, which gave me the opportunity of seeing who came into the bar—about ten minutes after I was there I saw Cracknell come in, in company with Lancaster—they came into the room where I was, and had some ale together—I then said to Cracknell, "I am a police officer; I must take you into custody for being concerned with another party in uttering a forged 10l. Bank of England note at the shop of Messrs. Bartram and Harvey, Holborn-hill"—he said, "Yes, that is right; I went with the party, but I know nothing of him"—I was about to search the prisoner—he was in the act of putting something into his pocket—he said, "Search me at the station"—I searched him there and then; I found in his pocket two forged 5l. Bank of England notes—these are them (looking at the two uttered to Markham and Lancaster)—I found a pocket book on him—he said there was a letter in that that he had received from the party that he had been with to Bartram and Harvey's—this is it (the one produced)—he said that he had left the clothes that were purchased, at Mrs. Markham's, in Jewin-street, as security for the payment—I then took him to No. 3, King-street—I there found three waistcoat pieces.—(MR. GRANT. TWO of these are what I cut off)—he also produced to me a pawnbroker's duplicate—it referred to some doeskin, and other articles, pledged on 17th Feb.—I examined at the pawnbroker's the things it referred to—the notes were marked "Forged," as they are now—Cracknell said he had paid Lancaster the money for the one, and left the clothes with Mrs. Markham for the other—this receipt of Mrs. Markham's was in the pocket book—he said they went together to Lancaster's, and had some spiced ale there, and there was a 5l. note changed there, and that was the note—he said Lancaster had been to him, and he had just paid Lancaster the last pound, or something of that sort; I do not recollect the exact words—he said that Lancaster kept a beer shop in Cloth-fair, and he had known him for some time—I asked him if he knew anything of Jackson, and he said he knew nothing of him, further than going with him to these places, that is, Bartram and Harvey's, Markham's and Lancaster's—he said that he (Cracknell) had lived at the Beehive as waiter for about six months, and he had seen Jackson there—I asked where Jackson was most likely to be found, and he said the most likely place was Tiger's-bay—I asked him where Tiger's-bay was—he said that Brunswick-street was called Tiger's-bay, that it was close by the Beehive, and was infested with whores and thieves; that that was the most likely place, to find him there with those girls.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you ever recollect this before to-day? A. I remember it well now—I believe that part was not mentioned before the Magistrate—my examination there was taken down, and I signed it, but I do not believe that part was taken—I signed it as correct—I mentioned this about Tiger's-bay, at Mr. Freshfield's office—I have been in the force between eleven and twelve years—I am not in the habit of omitting important evidence; I have done so, we do not at all times think of everything—when I was about to search Cracknell, he was in the act of putting something away into his pocket—I believe I said that before the Magistrate—I said I found the note on searching him, but I do not think that was
explained—I said I searched him, and found two notes—I did not say anything about his being in the act of putting something into his pocket—this is the first time I have given that evidence—I can explain it—I followed Cracknell and Lancaster down stairs to a room, and it seemed that they were in the act of settling—Cracknell had these two notes out in his hand and was in the act of putting them away, when I told him I was a police officer, and must take him into custody—I did not see any money pass.
MR. SLEIGH, on behalf of Cracknell, proposed to call the prisoner Jackson as a witness. MR. JUSTICE ERLE inquired whether such a course had ever been taken before. MB SLEIGH was not aware that one prisoner had ever been examined on behalf of another, although it was very common to examine one of the parties charged, on behalf of the prosecution. MR. JUSTICE ERLE expressed some doubt whether it should be done; the statute not having removed the so called privilege of prisoners not being liable to have any question put to them that could operate either for oragainst themselves; he had never known this course adopted, and whenever it had been necessary to examine a prisoner, he had always gone through the form of trial and sentence, or trial and acquittal, so that the entire matter should be at an end before such evidence was given; he would, however, receive the evidence if it was desired, and consult the Judges on the subject.
Jackson was here given in charge for having been previously convicted: to which fa pleaded
THOMAS GOODMAN (policeman, S 70). I know the prisoner Jackson; I was present at his trial, at the June Session, 1851, for sheep stealing; he was convicted, and sentenced—I produce the certificate of his conviction from Mr. Clark's office—(This being read, certified the conviction of George Jackson, of receiving twenty sheep, and that he was sentenced to one year's imprisonment.)
GUILTY. Aged 40.— Transported for Fifteen Years.
GEORGE JACKSON (the prisoner, was then examined by Mr. Sleigh as follow:)—I first became acquainted with Cracknell, some six or seven months ago perhaps; at the Beehive public house, merely by going into the house, as I was living close by, to have a pint of beer at different times, while he was in the employment of Mr. Matthews—in the early part of Feb., I was in communication with him—I am sorry to say that I have been wholly and solely the guilty party, and I am very sorry that I did not know at the time the responsibility that was attached to the man, Cracknell—he knew nothing at all of the affair, nor did I know that a responsibility was attached to him for being in my company—I am sorry that I have been the means of bringing an innocent man to the bar of his country—the beginning of the transaction was the buying of a horse, I do not exactly remember when it was—it was in St. Martin's-lane—Mr. Matthews, I understood, had a horse and chaise to be sold, and I bid Cracknell a price for the lot, which he did not think proper to accept—I think it was in Dec.—I do not know the day of the month—I had these notes in my possession, which the parties who employed me at St. Martin's-lane had intended to pay for this horse and chaise, provided a bargain had been come to—I represented to Cracknell that I was going to Australia, and that I was going to buy some things, and if he could recommend me to any of the parties that he dealt with, I should be very happy—he said he had a niece in the hosiery line; if I wanted anything of that sort, shirts, flannels, or handkerchiefs, I might as
well let her have it in the way of business, and we went there and passed a 5l. note with her—I accompanied him to the other two places that have been mentioned; upon which occasions notes were passed by me—I did not communicate to Cracknell, nor did he know that either of those notes were forged—I never gave my address to Cracknell; this note signed "Parkins," is my writing—there was such a place as the Star coffee house, in Drury-lane, but I understand it has since been made into a broker's shop.
(George Matthews, a licensed victualler, deposed to Cracknell's good character.)
CRACKNELL— NOT GUILTY .
( There were two other indictments against Cracknell for uttering the other forged notes, upon which no evidence was offered. )
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, April 11th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; and Mr. Ald. KENNEDY.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Fifth Jury.
442. WILLIAM CHOPPING , stealing 1 writing case and other articles, value 1l.; also, 3 blotting cases, and other articles, value 15s.; also, 7 brushes, and other articles, value 13s.; the goods of Rupert Rains, and another, his masters: to all which he
PLEADED GUILTY. Aged 28.—Received a good character.—Recommended mercy. — Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 39.— Confined Three Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 37.— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY. Aged 18.—Received a good character.—Recommended to mercy. — Confined Eighteen Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 32.— Confined Six Months.
447. GEORGE GOOD and HENRY FAHLE , stealing 2801bs. Weight of sugar, value 4l. 10s.; the goods of John Pierson Teede, the master of Good: and WILLIAM TELCHADER and NARCISSUS HENRY RYALL , feloniously receiving the same.
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY FINNIS (City policeman, 623). On the evening of 15th March, about 10 o'clock, I went to Mr. Teede's warehouse—I had three empty casks shown to me, and I marked them—they were in the warehouse, and on the following morning I went with Balchin to watch the premises of Mr. Teede, in Bishopsgate-street—I got there about 7 o'clock in the morning, and about
20 minutes before 8 Fahle came, and drove up a horse and cart to Mr. Teede's premises—I did not see him go in the premises, but go to the rear of them—it is a yard or alley, but no thoroughfare—I did not go up the alley—the cart went up the alley—I remained in view of the top of the alley—the back of Mr. Teede's premises open into that alley—Fahle came out again in about ten minutes—he had the cart with him, and two hogsheads in it—I could not see where he got them from—the alley goes from Bishopsgate-street into the yard, and turns to the left, so that I could not see where he went to—it is at the back of the warehouse—I still watched the top of the alley—when he came out with his cart, he went towards Bishopsgate Church—he stopped at Mr. Barker's public house, and I saw Good come to him and join him—it is about two minutes walk from Mr. Teede's—I saw where Good came from; he came from the premises of Mr. Teede—Fahle got up the alley first, and when he got to the public house Good came behind—I saw them speak together, and they went into the public house—Good came out of the public house and returned to the warehouse, and Fahle drove on to Cannon-street—I and Balchin followed him—I there saw Telchader with his pony truck—he backed up to the cart—it did not stop at any particular house; it was in the open street—I saw Telchader and Fahle together shove a hogshead from the cart on to the truck—Telchader drove the truck to Union-street—I and Balchin followed him—we left Fahle altogether—Telchader went to Ryall's house, No. 29, Union-street, with the truck, and Ryall came out and took the two bags into the shop—the bags were in the hogshead, and Telchader pulled the cask over, and assisted Ryall with the two bags—the cask was not taken off the truck, but merely tipped over by Telchader, and he took out the bags, and helped Ryall with them—he took them in front of him and carried them into the shop—it is a sweet stuff shop—Ryall was inside the shop when the truck came up—I was not near enough to hear whether anything was said before Ryall came out—Telchader drove away, and Balchin went and brought him back—I was in at Ryall's at the time—I went in as soon as Ryall took the two bags in—I asked him what he had got there—he said, "Waste," or "Dirty sugar"—I believe the word was "Dirty sugar"—I told him I must take him into custody for receiving that, knowing it to be stolen—he said he had not bought it nor paid for it, or words to that effect—the bags were not open at that time—they were tied up.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You did not see the casks come out from the warehouse? A. No; I saw the cart go up without them, and come back with them—it was about 20 minutes before 8 o'clock in the morning when I first saw it drive up the alley—it had not to pass the front of the house—there were two hogsheads in the cart—I did not hear anything said during the time—after Good had been in the public house he came out, and returned to the warehouse.
Cross-examined by MR. CHARNOCK. Q. Union-street is a wide street? A. Yes—it was close upon 9 o'clock when the truck drove to Ryall's—the street is close to Spitalfields market; there is always traffic—when the truck drove up, I was within five or six yards of it—Telchader went into the shop, and came out again in a second, I should think—he went in, and came out, I as though he went to say he had brought something; Ryall came out, I should say, in a minute—his door is rather wide—it is an open shop; the door is open—just as Telchader came out he turned the hogshead over, and then Ryall came out—I did not see anything else in the truck—there were some small casks in the cart when it drove down to Mr. Teede's; I did
not see what was in them—when the truck came, and the hogshead was turned over, Ryall came and took one bag, and put it down in front of the counter, and he returned for the other—he put them down in front of the counter, and persons were going along all the time—there was no concealment about it—I went in, and had the conversation—I believe Fahle is a scum boiler; he buys those casks and scrapes them, and boils them, to get the sweet out—I believe they do not cut them to pieces, they have a very large copper—these bags were not opened; I took them away without opening them—they are what are called gunney bags, and they were old bags, and tied up—there was no name or mark on them that I could see—I do not know anything about the toffey business, or whether they use cheap sugar or dirty sugar.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. YOU say that the sugar was taken from one of the casks that was put in after the truck drove up? A. Yes—I did not lose sight of the cask from the time it left Mr. Teede's, till the exchange was made into the truck—I can undertake to say that the sugar, being in one of the casks when it was taken out, was there when it left Mr. Teede's—there was no change of the sugar from one cask to another—I dare say Mr. Teede's is a quarter of a mile from Union-street—I should say it is three quarters of a mile from Mr. Teede's to Cannon-street—Mr. Teede's is half a mile nearer to Ryall's than Cannon-street is, and Cannon-street is not the direct road to Ryall's—the hogshead would have to come back to go to Ryall's—Fahle did did not ride in the cart; he walked.
COURT. Q. Which way did they go? A. Straight along Bishopsgate-street, down Gracechurch-street, and into Cannon-street, and Telchader returned back with the truck the same way that the cart went; he came on till he got to Artillery-lane—he went down Artillery-lane into Union-street—he did not pass Mr. Teede'g house—Artillery-lane is about 300 yards short of Mr. Teede's house.
MR. CHARNOCK. Q. Where are Fahle'g premises? A. In Dunk-street, leading out of Brick-lane, Spitalfields.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. HOW far would the cask have to go to Ryall's? A. I should think nearly two miles, from the time it left Mr. Teede's.
COURT. Q. It was about two miles from Mr. Teede's to Ryall's, by the way they went? A. Yes.
THOMAS BALCHIN (City policeman). On the morning of the 16th March I accompanied the last witness to the premises—I got there between 7 and 8 o'clock—I watched, and saw the cart go in—Fahle was driving it—I saw it come out, and the two casks—I saw Good come from the rear of his master's premises, and join Fahle at the public house; they went in, and remained three or four minutes—they came out together, and were in conversation a short time—Good then left, and went back to his master's—I followed the cart to Cannon-street—I saw Telchader with the pony truck; I saw the cask transferred from the cart to the pony truck—Fahle and Telchader were in conversation a short time after the removal—they appeared to be in conversation before the hogshead was removed from the cart to the truck, but I was not close enough to hear—I saw Telchader drive to Ryall's, and Ryall came out and took the sugar in—I went after Telchader, and stopped him when he had got ten or a dozen yards—I asked him what he had taken into the shop—he appeared confused at first, and said he did not know, and almost directly afterwards he said he thought it was dirty sugar—he afterwards said he was employed to carry it, for which he was to have one shilling; that was, perhaps, a minute afterwards;
and on his way back he said, "Well, I am to have the hogshead for carrying it; Fahle gave me the hogshead"—I took him into custody, and said he was charged with receiving the sugar, knowing it to be stolen—I found some sugar tied up in a cloth, tied up in a gunney bag, which was tied to the shaft of the truck—I should think there was about three pounds of sugar—the gunney bags are at the Bishopsgate-street station.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you see the casks come out of the prosecutor's premises? A. No—there were six small casks in the cart when it drove up to the prosecutor's—I was in company with Finnis the whole distance from the prosecutor's to Ryall's—we reached Ryall's about 9 o'clock.
Cross-examined by MR. M. J. O'CONNELL. Q. There was no delay at the public house, but those few minutes conversation? A. No—I should say there was ten minutes or a quarter of an hour's delay in Cannon-street; that is a very great thoroughfare—there was no attempt at concealing what they were about—it was done in the open street.
HENRY FINNIS re-examined. Q. Did you take samples of the sugar found in the bags? A. I did on Monday last—up to last Monday, the bags were in Bishopsgate station, under my charge—I put the samples in these blue bags, and they were put in this building—I have not a sample of the sugar found in the cloth; I believe that was not taken—these are the samples taken from the two bags found in Ryall's shop.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Can you tell which came from each bag? A. No—they are both alike—they have been in the cupboard here from last Monday till to-day.
JURY. Q. Were the two hogsheads in the cart what you had marked the overnight? A. Yes—they were the same.
JOHN TEEDE . I am the son of John Pierson Teede, No. 85, Bishopsgate-street. I know Good—he was in our service some time—I recollect, on the morning of 16th March, looking into the warehouse at the back of our premises, between 7 and 8 o'clock—I think it was nearer 7 than 8—I there saw Good and Fahle—they were in the warehouse, carrying something between them; I could not see what it was; the hogsheads prevented me—I could see by their action they were lifting something—it appeared heavy—they put what they carried behind the door—I was not early enough to see where they carried it from—they put it behind the warehouse door, leading out into the yard—I cannot tell whether they saw me—they had an opportunity of seeing me; I believe they saw me—I was standing at the door leading to the shop—I remained there a little time—I was just coming in at the door leading from the shop into the warehouse—I was there about two minutes—I then went into the shop again—I was aware of Finnis and Balchin having been appointed to watch outside—I heard Good ask Fahle whether he should go to Pringle's first—Pringle's is a grocer's shop close by us—I went into the warehouse again in about five minutes—Good was then helping Fahle to chain up the hogshead at the back of the cart—the hogshead was then in the cart.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Do you know how long Good has been in your father's employ? A. About four or five years—the warehouse has a double door—I could see the door from where I stood—that door leads into the back alley—there is a yard up a little higher—the cart was in the alley at the time they were chaining the hogshead—I saw the hogsheads taken out when I was in the shop—Fahle and Good took them out—there is a glass door—they rolled them out in the usual way.
Cross-examined by MR. M. J. O'CONNELL. Q. How far was the cart from the door? A. About twelve yards—they rolled the casks in the usual way—I have known Fahle about six months, by his coming for the hogsheads about two or three times a week—I know he was in the habit of doing that at other grocers'—I could not see what the heavy thing was that these men were carrying—I saw them leave it behind the door—I was not present when Fahle paid for these casks.
COURT. Q. Did you see what it was they put behind the door? A. No, but they appeared to put something—I was in the shop when I saw them roll the casks out—from the glass door I could see the door leading to the the alley—the empty hogsheads which they took were on some full hogsheads in the warehouse—one was in the middle of the warehouse, and one was on one side of the warehouse—I looked behind the door to see if there was anything, and there was an original bag of sugar—it was a gunney bag—the sugar comes to our premises in gunney bags.
JURY. Q. When you saw them chain a hogshead in the cart, how was it? A. It was on its end—I did not see anything but the two casks—the cart had rails at the sides.
JOHN PIERSON TEEDE . I am the prosecutor—I went out of town on the Tuesday morning—I had given instructions to the police on the previous day—I came home on the Friday evening—on Saturday morning a policeman called, and requested me to go to the Mansion-house—I went there and saw two gunney bags of sugar—these samples are the same description of sugar that was in them—I have been in business almost fifty years—I consider that I am well acquainted with sugar—this sugar is certainly not scrapings of casks—it is clear from a hogshead—such as this could not be scraped from a hogshead—this is foreign sugar—the sugar melted in this country would be quite different to this—I had a hogshead of sugar in my ware-house precisely of the same description as this—I took a sample of it with me to the Mansion-house, and I found that it exactly corresponded with that in the bags—I have the samples here—this sample was from the bags, and this was from the hogshead—in my judgment they exactly correspond—I believe them to be from the same hogshead—there is a peculiar smell about this sugar that I know it by—the smell is very much gone off from the small sample—the sugars that come from Porto Rico have this smell—I have not detected it in any other—we never put sugar loose into gunney bags—there is a small kind of bag used which comes from the Mauritius—we pack parcels in gunney bags, but do not pack sugar loose in them—here is a gunney bag which has been in wear for some time—the hogshead from which I believe the sugar was taken did not come from the Docks till the Wednesday evening while I was absent—I have the Dock weight of that hogshead—these hogsheads are not always full—they are subject to drainage—they do not waste 200 lbs.—they are usually full—when I came back I examined this hogshead—I directed it to be weighed—supposing it had been a full, and making every allowance for drainage, there could not have been a deficiency of from 2 cwt. to 21/2 cwt.—the hogshead was nearly empty—th e weight of it from the Dock was 103/4 cwt.—from my knowledge of these hogsheads it would have held about 91/2 cwt. or 10 cwt., but that would depend on the quality of the sugar put in it—it would have contained from 9 to 10 cwt. of this very kind of sugar—when I saw it on the Saturday morning it was three parts empty—there was rather over 4 cwt. and 12 lb. including the weight of the cask, which would weigh about 1 cwt.
COURT. Q. Who was left in the management of the business? A. A
young man who has lately come into my employ; his name is Stone—he is not here; he is out on a journey.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You have looked at this sugar? A. Yes—it came from Porto Rico—I cannot tell from memory what quantity comes from there to the English market; it is a large quantity—many of the sugars that come from that colony have this smell—the lower qualities have—I have not noticed a smell similar to this in sugar from Jamaica, or the Mauritius—this is a sugar I should not sell out for retail purposes with out mixing—if it were sent out for wholesale purposes, I should not generally send it as taken from the hogshead; more generally mixed—I do not remember giving directions to Good to send out some sugar; he was not ordered by me to send any to Brentwood, nor anywhere else—I have a customer named Coggleshall, at Waltham Abbey—I do not recollect giving directions to Good to send any there; but it would not have been out of that hogshead—Good's sole employ was in the warehouse—I am not quite certain as to the time he has been in my employ; it may be more than five years—he had not a first rate character when he came to me, but it was one which, with explanation, induced me to take him—the waste on the voyage might vary from one cwt. to one quarter of a cwt.; but in a very dry sugar it might not waste 7 lbs.—if the ship were leaky it might wash half the sugar out—the sugar at the bottom is called foots—the syrup drains down—there may be twenty or thirty kinds of sugars in the English market—there may be six or seven West India islands which send sugar, and the Mauritius sends sugar.
Cross-examined by MR. M. J. O'CONNELL. Q. Had you any other cask of sugar open? A. That was the only cask of raw sugar which had not gone through a lining—when I heard the sugar was at the Mansion House, I only took that sugar, because I believed it was from that hogshead that it had been taken—I may have known Fahle twelve months; he comes two or three times a week, and takes away the empty casks.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. You have no recollection of sending sugar to Waltham Abbey? A. No; if it had been sent there, it would have been in a cask.
FRANCIS HOWE . I am shopman to the prosecutor. I recollect his going out of town—I know what quantity of sugar was brought out of that cask into the shop—I was there the whole time—there were five quarters of a cwt., making one cwt. and one quarter, brought from that hogshead into the shop—I happened to go into the warehouse on that Friday morning between 7 and 8 o'clock—I saw Good there, and Fahle was just inside the warehouse door—the casks were in the cart—Fahle paid me 7s. for two hogsheads and a case—there were two hogsheads and a case taken then—the case was about four or five feet long.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Good was employed in the warehouse? A. Yes—I serve in the shop, the retail department—three of the quarter cwts. of sugar that were brought into the shop were brought in by Good, and two of them I took in myself after Good was taken—Mr. Teede went into the country on Tuesday morning—I and the apprentice were serving in the shop—there was a traveller there all the time after Mr. Teede left, but he was not serving, he was in the counting house—I saw where two of the quarter cwts. of sugar were taken from that were brought into the shop—I took them myself—supposing any order of a wholesale kind came in, it would be under the direction of Mr. Stone—all the sugar is kept in the warehouse.
Cross-examined by MR. M. J. O'CONNELL. Q. When did you bring in the two quarters of cwts. yourself? A. On the Friday afternoon—I do not know where the sugar was brought from that was brought in before—Good brought it in—I believe it came from that hogshead—I was in the shop all the time, except at meals—Stone was there all the time—the apprentice's name is Pickering—he is not here—his business is to serve in the shop and take home orders—Fahle paid me 7s. for the two casks and case—he bad paid me for one on the Tuesday morning—he only had one that morning—he paid me at the same rate, half a crown for one cask.
COURT to JOHN TEEDE. Q. What was it you saw behind the door? A. I did not see any cask—I saw an original bag of sugar in a ganney bag—it had been there about two months.
(The prisoners received good characters.)
GOOD— GUILTY [They were recommended to mercy by the Jury for their good characters. See original trial image.]. Aged 39.— Confined Eighteen Months.
FAHLE— GUILTY [They were recommended to mercy by the Jury for their good characters. See original trial image.]. Aged 34.— Confined Twelve Months.
TELCHADER— GUILTY [They were recommended to mercy by the Jury for their good characters. See original trial image.]. Aged 62.— Confined Nine Months.
(They were recommended to mercy by the Jury for their good characters.)
RYALL— NOT GUILTY .
448. PATRICK BRYAN, GEORGE THOMPSON , and SAMUEL REDMAN , burglariously entering the dwelling house of John Morgan, and stealing the top of a scent bottle, and other articles, value 14l., his property.
MR. RYLAKD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN MORGAN . I keep the Orange Tree public house, at No. 16, Palace-row, New-road. On 3th March I went to bed at a little after 12 o'clock, having made the house perfectly safe—I was disturbed about half past 5 o'clock next morning, and came down—the street door was open, and a lock in the bar parlour had been wrenched open, and an iron bar was there which I had never seen before—the thieves had got in over the iron railing by the side of the house, then over a wooden railing and over a wall, and wrenched the bar from the window, got the sash down, and got in—I missed a variety of articles from the bar parlour—a piece of silver, the top of a scent bottle, was gone—I lost a foreign copper coin, and I lost a bag, which I know—I Have seen those three articles since in possession of the police—I lost some cigars, four 5s. papers of copper money, 12s. worth of loose coppers, about 5s. worth of farthings which were in the bag on the night in question, and 1l. in silver—the amount of my loss altogether was about 25l., besides breaking and spoiling—the money was taken from the bar parlour—it was locked up, all but 1l. 5s. in the side cupboard, and the bar was broken open.
HENRY BINGHAM (police sergeant, E 5). On Monday evening, 5th March, I was on duty in Oxford-street about 10 o'clock, just opposite Hanway-street—that, I should think, is about half a mile from the prosecutor's—I saw the three prisoners together—I had known them before—I spoke to Bryan as he passed me—I had been on duty, and seen all the three prisoners at nights in a coffee shop in Dean-street, Holborn—that is half a mile from Hanway-street.
Thompson. Q. How had you known me? A. By seeing you in the coffee shop—I had visited that coffee shop, and seen you every night, the
week previous—I bad known you about a fortnight—I had seen you ever? night down to 5th March.
CHARLES FOREHAM (policeman, S 222). In the course of the night between 5th and 6th March, I was on duty in Hampstead New-road—between 2 and 3 o'clock, when I was about 100 yards from the Orange Tree, I saw Bryan, and some other young man with him—I did not speak to Bryan—he was coming towards the Orange Tree—they passed me, and I went on my beat—I went back and passed the Orange Tree about ten minutes afterwards, and saw Bryan and another one with him, standing on the crossing, apparently talking to one another, about twenty or thirty yards from the Orange Tree—the young man who was with Bryan was the same I had seen with him before—I walked to them and turned my lantern on, and just as I got to them they turned and went to a man and woman who were on the opposite side—I passed again in about five minutes, saw the street door of the Orange Tree open, and alarmed the family—I produce this crowbar, which was on the bar parlour table—it corresponded with the marks on the door.
COURT. Q. Did you know Bryan before? A. Yes—I am sure it was him—I cannot speak to the other one, because he did not look at me as Bryan did—he looked me full in the face.
HENRY GRANT . I am a cab driver. On Tuesday morning, 6th March, about a quarter before 5 o'clock, I was at the Hampstead end of Tottenham Court-road, about 120 yards from the Orange Tree—three men took my cab—it was dark, I did not notice them—they all three got in, and I drove them to Great Russell-street first—one got out there, and gave me 1s. 6d. in coppers—that was more than my fare there, but I had to go on to Dean-street, Holborn—I drove the other two men on to Dean-street—they got out there, and a policeman came and took my number.
THOMAS PITCHERS (policeman, E 67). I was on duty on Tuesday morning, 6th March, in Dean-street, Holborn, about a quarter before 6 o'clock—I saw a cab driven by the last witness; I took the number of the cab—Thompson and Redman got out of it—they went into a public house at the corner of Dean-street—I did not follow them in—I took Redman into custody, about half past 2 o'clock on the Thursday morning, in the coffee shop in Dean-street: there were several persons there, but no one that I knew with him—I took him to the station, and searched him—I found this piece of silver between his coat and the lining—I have compared it with this smelling bottle, which was at the Orange Tree, and it seems to correspond with the top of it—here is the hinge where it seems to have fitted.
Bryan. Q. Have you never covered me while in the act of picking pockets? A. No—I did not say to you, three months ago, "Now King is in custody, you might as well let me earn a few shillings"—I did not receive 3l. 10s. from you, which you took from a lady's pocket—I did not have some brandy and water at your expense.
Thompson. Q. You say you saw me get out of the cab. and this man said that he lost 18 lbs. of cigars; could I have them, and you not notice them? A. I cannot tell what you had; I had suspicion of you, but I could not take you then—you went into the public house—I did not go in; I looked in the public house; you went out at the other door, and went into a coffee shop.
COURT. Q. How long were they in the public house? A. They might be in there two or three minutes.
Thompson. Q. How was it you did not come into the coffee shop? A. The door was shut as soon as you got in—I tried it, and found the door fast; I was in uniform—it was two hours after you came out of the cab before I came to the coffee shop—I was not in uniform when I came the second time—you were in the coffee shop when I came with sergeant Smith.
COURT. Q. You saw them go into the public house, and they went out at the other side into the coffee shop, and you followed and could not get in?A. Yes—I went and informed sergeant Smith, and came back in two hours afterwards—Thompson was there then, and he was taken into custody by sergeant Smith.
Thompson. Q. Did you have anything to drink in the coffee shop?A. Yes, a cup of coffee; and I went out again.
COURT. Q. Did you go in by yourself first? A. Yes, and sergeant Smith was stopping at the corner, and I then came to the door and called him in.
Redman. Q. Did you search me in the coffee shop?A. I did not, sergeant Smith did—there was nothing found on you.
COURT. Q. Is there any truth in the question that Bryant put to you about your having money of him, or brandy and water? A. No—I do not know that I have seen him till he was in custody, for more than three months—I did not know that a felony had been committed when I first saw him that morning—from the cabman telling me where he came from, and how he came, I had suspicion, but I did not know of the robbery then—I saw them go into the public house; they came out, and went into the coffee shop—I could not get in, and I went and told sergeant Smith, and came back in two hours—I suppose I had to go a mile and a quarter, and I had to go to the station to be relieved—when I came back, it was broad daylight—I left sergeant Smith outside, and I went into the coffee shop—I saw all the three prisoners there—I do not know the name of the coffee shop; it is No. 21, I believe, in Dean-street, Holborn—I do not know the name of the person keeping it—I took Redman into custody, and sergeant Smith took Bryan and Thompson—Redman was let go then, because there was no property found on him, and he was taken again on Thursday morning—I took him again in the same coffee shop, and then it was I found this piece of silver, between his pocket and his coat—Bryan and Thompson were taken by sergeant Smith, and searched—I saw them being searched when I left the station—I had to go to make inquiry about the robbery.
Thompson. Q. You Bay it was two hours after we came out of the cab that you came and took us? A. Yes, about that—I went to the station, and to Sergeant Smith—when I saw you come out of the cab. I was in uniform, and when I came again, I was in private clothes—I went to the station, and then I went to my home and changed my clothes.
WILLIAM SMITH (police-sergeant, E 16). On Tuesday morning, 6th March, the last witness came and made a communication to me—I went with him to the coffee shop—I went in in about five minutes—I found the three prisoners sitting in a box, and a female—I recognised Bryan—I asked him what he was doing there, and asked him to step into the yard with me, which he did—I searched him, and found on him seventeen cigars, 13s. 6d. in silver, 3s. in copper, a foreign copper coin, one glove, and one collar—I left him in charge of another sergeant, and I went and took Thompson out—I searched him, and found 16s. in silver, 15s. 10d. in copper, including farthings and halfpence, and also a packet of coppers—the 15s. 10d. was
loose, some in his pocket, and some in this bag—I found a screw of tobacco a pair of gloves, a pipe, and twenty-one cigars—I asked him how he became possessed of that quantity of coppers; he said he was a costermonger, and took them in his business—Redman was in the same coffee shop; I did not take him.
Thompson. Q. Where did you find these cigars? A. On the seat whew you were sitting—the other officer was sergeant Prior—Pitchers was in the coffee shop; I left him there, while I went out with Prior, and searched Bryan—I left him with Prior—I then took you and Bryan to the station, and came back to Redman—I knew Bryan, and took him out and searched him—I asked for a candle, because I thought I might find something in the kitchen, but I did not—I went to the kitchen, from the information that lights had been seen glimmering about the kitchen and the house—I found some pieces of a cigar box in the kitchen—these (produced) are them.
Bryan. They sell cigars in the coffee shop.
JOHN MORGAN re-examined. This smelling bottle is mine—it was perfect on the night before this robbery, except this little hole, where there was a dent before—I had occasion to use it the night before, as I had a very bad headache—I know this piece of silver; it is the top of it; it is mine—I know this copper coin perfectly well; it had been in my possession about nine weeks; it was amongst the loose coppers—I know this bag; it has been in my possession for years; we always kept farthings in it; there were farthings in it that night—it is a peculiarly made bag, and here is a spot of ink upon it.
Bryan. Q. Can you swear there was never any more than that one piece of coin? A. No.
COURT. Q. Was your copper made up in packets like this one which was found on Thompson? A. Yes—there was but one screw of tobacco left in the till, and that was gone in the morning, and this screw was found on Thompson—(The packet of copper was here opened, and 5sworth of copper was in it.)—The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate were here read as fellows: "Redman says, 'On the night in question I could not get a bed at the coffee shop, and I went to Long Acre; in the morning, when I came back to Dean-street, I saw Bryan and Thompson, who were strangers to me, except that I knew them by lodging there; a man came in with a shining coat, and seemed to know them; the piece of silver I found at the foot of the stairs.' 'Thompson says nothing.' "
Bryan's Defence. At a quarter before 7 o'clock that morning I left home; I had slept with my parents; I went to the coffee shop, and saw Redman and Thompson having their breakfast; when I had been there about a quarter of an hour a man with a shining coat came in, and said, "I have got twenty-one shillings and sixpence in copper; if you will give me a sovereign you shall have them," and Thompson gave it him; I then got up to buy some tobacco, and the man said he had some very good cigars; I gave him half a crown for two half dozen; I showed him this coin; he said, "I have not got any other; you can easily pass it."
Thompson's Defence. I think it very hard; this officer says he saw us get out of the cab. and the prosecutor says he lost about 18 lbs. of cigars, and they would half fill the cab. and the officer must have seen them; we could not conceal all those cigars and this coin without its being seen.
Redmans Defence. On the night Bingham says he saw me I left off work at 8 o'clock; I vent to the coffee shop, and they said they had let my bed; I had to go to Covent Garden to get a bed; in the morning I went to the
coffee shop to get my breakfast; I did not get there till 7 o'clock, and the officer says he saw me get out of the cab at 6 o'clock in the morning; the officer came in and had a cup of coffee, and went out, and the sergeant came in, and took Bryan out and searched him; and he came and took Thompson, and then I was to go, and they searched me and let me go; I told them my father's place, and I went the next night, and they took me into custody; this piece of silver was in my waistcoat pocket; I picked it up at the foot of the stairs, and put it in my pocket; they found this, and took me for being concerned in a robbery; I work hard for my living, and have done all my life, with my father, who is now in Court, and will give me a character; I only know these men by lodging at the coffee shop; I have gone in and seen them, and may have been in their company; Bingham is perfectly right, he has seen me there.
(Redman's father, and William Waters, a coach trimmer, gave him a good character.)
BRYAN**— GUILTY . Aged 21.— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
THOMPSON— GUILTY . Aged 21.— Six Years Penal Servitude.
REDMAN— GUILTY. Aged 21.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined Eighteen Months.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, April 11th, 1855.
PRESENT—Sir GEORGE CARROLL, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; Mr. COMMON SERJEANT; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Russell Gurney, Esq., and the Seventh Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY. Aged 41.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor. — Confined Three Months.
450. JAMES PERKINS , feloniously forging and uttering a warrant for the payment of 15s., with intent to defraud: also. a warrant for the delivery of 1 set of harness, with intent to defraud: to both which he
PLEADED GUILTY .* Aged 32.— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Nine Months.
452. GEORGE BOHN , stealing, on 3rd Sept., 1 work box, 10 reels, 2 thimbles, and other articles, value 4l. 7s.; and, within six months, 6 dressing cases and contents, 11l. 15s.; the goods of Charles Greenwood: also. on 18th Nov., 1 neck chain, and, within six months, 3 rings, 23l.; and, within six months, 3 rings, 15l.; the goods of Alexander Paton and another: he was also charged on four other indictments with unlawfully obtaining goods by false pretences: to all which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 34.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
with Charles Oldham. The prisoner was our clerk—on 31st Oct. we had a bond for Turkish scrip left at our office—this book (produced) was kept by the prisoner—this entry is in his writing—(read—"Oct. 31. 2,000 new Turks, for J. Rigg")—on 2nd Nov. I asked the prisoner for the four bonds, and afterwards, on the 14th, I discovered that there were not four—I had kept them in my desk in the mean time, and had kept the key—when I missed one it was half past 5 o'clock at night, and the prisoner had gone—I said to him next morning, "We have missed a Turk"—he said, "Oh, indeed!"—I said, "It must be found at once"—he said nothing, but tried to go out of the office, and then I challenged him, and said that I suspected him—he denied it, and tried to go—I said that he should not go until it was found—he said that he thought he could get it by applying to a man named Beach—my partner and myself set out with him there, and when we had got a few yards, I saw him speaking to my partner, who then said, in the prisoner's hearing, "Baker has confessed it all"—we then returned to the office—he persisted that Beach had got it, and my partner went with him, but I did not—they came back, and said that Mr. Beach was not within, but would be at 2 o'clock—at 2 o'clock I and Mr. Phillips were going to see Mr. Beach with the prisoner, and he escaped—these letters (produced) are in the prisoner's writing—we received them—(read—"Pray, for God's sake, have one day's patience; give me to-day, and to-morrow until 1 o'clock, and I will settle it, or blow my brains out. R. B." "The business is all mine; Beach is only a name. There is a Mr. Beach, a friend of mine, but he is as innocent as an angel. He has promised to advance me moneys to buy a Turk, and he will in a few days, if you do not go and tell him, although I have told him my position. If you do go and tell him, I shall not get one penny. For mercy's sake, say, will you give me time. only a little time to put the Turk right. If I am deprived of my liberty I can do nothing towards this matter; but, if free, I can do all. I do not want to go away; but if I must, I shall do so effectually. I know your high position, your views of justice. If you will give your word that you will not have me arrested until some day which you may name, Friday or Saturday, I will freely devote myself to doing justice to you to the best of my ability; but, if this is not granted me, I leave you to conjecture how I am to act for life's sake. Send me word by bearer what you will do. I will freely speak about the Turk as soon as I can do so without danger; but I cannot write about it, as you will see. Tuesday, 3 o'clock")—we sent no message by the bearer, but followed him—I did not see the prisoner again.
Prisoner. Q. Did this bond belong to you? A. Yes; because I paid for it, but I supposed that we were buying it for your friend, Mr. Beech—you received it yourself from Mr. Rigg, I never saw or had it—before you came there was a great deal of speculation in the office—we commenced playing at cards at 12 o'clock in the day—blank cheques signed were occasionally left in the office, in case anybody came in—you could not have filled up a blank cheque unless you forged my name—I filled up a blank cheque when my partner was gone, and took all the money out and placed it to my account at another bank—that was because I could not trust you, and because I chose to do it—the bond was missed after that—there was a large speculative account open with Beech—the colour of the bond was red; I did not see it till the other day—I know Mr. Crook, I have received 15l. From him—I put it to his credit, and am ready to account for it at any time; it was not under protest—blank cheques were not constantly left in your possession by my partner, that I know of.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. There were four bonds delivered at your office? A. Yes; the prisoner was at the office at that time, and I found afterwards that he had only delivered three over to me—the amount of the four was 1,326l. 17s. 6d.—this (produced) is the cheque by which I paid for them—we lost about 70l. by the bond, because it was a speculative account with Mr. Beech, and we only lost the difference; part of the bond was placed to our credit at the bank—the prisoner's salary was 105l. a year, and he went away with six weeks' salary in advance.
Prisoner. Q. To whom did you deliver the bond 1A. I believe I delivered it at Messrs. Barkworth's office; I have an entry by which I find that I delivered bonds, including No. 113, the first thing in the morning; I should say, 12 o'clock—I have known you a good many years, but never knew you to be charged with a criminal offence before.
LEWIS JOHN DE-LA-CHAUMETTE . I am a stock broker of No. 12, Angel-court. On 2nd Nov. the prisoner asked me to sell a red Turk—there are red Turks and black Turks—he said that it had been placed in his hands for sale, by a friend of his, and produced this scrip; I sold it for him for 31 6l. 17s. 6d., and paid him in two cheques, one of which was for 150l.; I deducted 1l. 5s. for brokerage—I have the cheques here, they have been duly paid—here is "R. B." placed in the corner, which satisfies me that the prisoner is the person that I received it from; besides which I entered the number in the book.
WILLIAM CHARLES OLDHAM . I am in partnership with Mr. Barkworth. On 13th Nov. the prisoner stayed away from the office—I saw him next day, the 14th, and in Mr. Barkworth's presence accused him of taking this bond—lie denied it, and wished to go to a person named Beech who, he said, would make some arrangement regarding it—that was the person for whom I imagined we had bought it—I accompanied the prisoner, and as I was going he pulled me back, and said, "I confess I did make away with it"—I then said that it was of no use going any further.
Prisoner. Q. Did you ever leave blank cheques in my possession? A. Yes; you could have filled them up if you wished.
FRANCIS PHILLIP . I am clerk to Messrs. Barkworth and Oldham. On 13th Nov. I went with Mr. Barkworth and the prisoner to the Royal Exchange, to see a person named Crook—Mr. Barkworth directed me not to leave the prisoner, but he went into a shop, saying that a person inside would lend him a sovereign, and escaped through a side door—I went back without him.
JOSEPH COMBER KNIGHT (City policeman. 437). On the morning of 29th March, I took the prisoner in Larkhall-lane, Clapham—I said, "Baker, I am an officer; I want you"—he said, "I will not attempt to escape"—I said, "The charge against you will be stealing a Turkish bond or scrip for 1,000l., also embezzling 20l., the property of your late employers"—he said, "I know; I shall plead guilty to the charge."
Prisoners Defence. It was originally my intention to plead guilty, but I thought some mitigation might be obtained through the irregularities of the office; there was great excitement, card playing, and accounts opened for
dummies. parties who did not exist; I have held a situation since this, and had money entrusted to me.
GUILTY. Aged 34.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined Nine Months.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BOYDELL GIBSON . I am an army saddler, of No. 6, New Coventry street. On Thursday afternoon, 15th March, about 6 o'clock, the prisoner came into our warehouse, and said that he was appointed to the 12th Lancers, and required the necessary outfit—after asking him the necessary appointments, I gave him the order book, in which he wrote the name "Cyril White"—the book is not here—when he was about to go away, he said, "I beg your pardon, Mr. Gibson, but I was too late to get to my agent's, Mr. Collins, before they closed; will you have the kindness to change me a cheque?"—I said, "With a great deal of pleasure; how much do you require?—he said, "20l. "—I gave him a piece of blank paper, and in my presence he wrote this cheque for 20l.—(read: "March 12th. Sir,—Please pay Mr. Gibson, or bearer, 20l. which charge to my account. Cyril White, 12th Lancers. To S. Collins, Esq.")—I gave him the money for that on the faith of his being Cyril White, of the 12th Lancers.
JONATHAN WHICHER . I am a sergeant in the detective police. On 27th March, I took the prisoner at No. 91, Norton-street—I told him I was a police officer, and he must consider himself in custody, on a charge of uttering a forged cheque at the shop of Mr. Gibson—he was in bed with a female—he asked me several times to allow him to go to Mr. Gibson, to see if he could settle it—I found some jewellery and other articles there—he gave the name of William Kelly.
Prisoner's Defence. I was not quite aware of the seriousness of the offence; I should have restored the money shortly; I have lost my commission in the army through it, and am greatly punished by that; I wished to obtain some money to pay a debt.
GUILTY. Aged 18.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor, on account of his youth.
PLEADED GUILTY .—Aged 18.
(Sergeant Whicher stated that on 15th Feb. the prisoner was given in charge for uttering a forged cheque for 70l., but that the charge was withdrawn on condition of his leaving the country, and that there were several other cases against him.)— Judgment Respited.
MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES ROBBINS . I am a working jeweller, of No. 10, Rochester-row, Westminster. I occupy a front and back room, and sleep with my wife in the back room—I locked the front room about 9 o'clock, and took the key into my bed room—I was awoke next morning, between 1 and 2 o'clock, by
my wife, and heard a noise in the passage, or the next room—I knocked with my slipper on the floor, as hard as I could, to alarm the persons underneath—I then went down stairs, and found the street door open—I called "Police!" and heard a noise on the stairs of more than one person falling down stairs, tumbling over each other—I had a light—nothing was disturbed, but my door was open, the lock had been picked; no force had been used.
HANNAH LEGO . I am a warder, at Tothill-fields prison, and lire at No. 10, Rochester-row. My father keeps the house; I sleep on the second floor. On Monday night, the 19th, I locked the street door at 11 o'clock, and between 1 and 2 I was awoke by a noise of people rushing down stairs—I got up, and found the lodgers about, and the street door wide open—I picked up a hat at the bottom of the stairs.
CHARLES PIPER (policeman, B 184). On 20th March, between 1 and 2 o'clook in the morning, I was on duty in Rochester-row, and saw three men come out of No. 10.—I was close to the door at the time—they all throe ran in different directions—I could not identify the prisoner, but I ran after one who I believe to be he, and hallooed, "Stop thief!"—he ran, hallooing "Stop thief!" as well, and about thirty yards from the house his hat fell off; as I picked it up a cab passed—he ran in front of the cab. and I lost sight of him, but saw him in custody of another policeman about half a minute afterwards, without any hat—I asked him whether that was his hat which I had got—he said that it was, and that he had bought it at Heath's, in Oxford-street, and I should see the name inside—I did not lose sight of the person who was running, from the time he came out of the house till his hat fell off.
Cross-examined by MR. SHARPE Q. Did not you say just now, that you could not identify the prisoner? A. Not as coming out at the door, but I saw a man who came out at the door lose this hat, and the prisoner says that it is his—he did not explain to me how it came off—I saw him running, and heard him call "Stop thief!"—I do not know what became of the other two men—one without any hat came out first, and the other two came out together—there were no other people in the street—the prisoner asked me for his hat, but I would not give it to him—I have had the hat which was picked up in the passage, ever since—there were gas lights.
STEPHEN SHONT (policeman, A 235). On 20th March, between 1 and 2 o'clock in the morning, I heard Piper shout "Stop thief!" ran into Rochester-row, and saw a man running without a hat—he ran thirty or forty yards in front of me—he crossed over in front of a cab. and I lost sight of him—I afterwards saw him in Finnis's custody—I do not identify the prisoner as the man.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. You saw a Hansom's cab? A. Yes—the prisoner did not come running up, and say," The prisoner is in that cab;" I swear that.
MR. THOMPSON. Q. Was the cab going, before the prisoner crossed to it? A. Yes, and it never stopped at all.
GEORGE FINNIS (policeman, B 174). On the morning of 20th March, I was standing at the police station door in Rochester-row, and heard some people calling out, "Stop him!"—I saw the prisoner running, without a hat, and stopped him—Piper and Shont came up, and I gave him to Piper—he was calling out, "Stop thief!" and "There he goes, in the cab."
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Did he not say, "He has got into that cab?" A. Yes, and he said that he had had his hat knocked off by trying to prevent the man from getting into the cab.
MR. THOMPSON. Q. Did you see the cab? A. Yes—there was nobody inside, only the driver behind.
GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. J. W. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
TIMOTHY BLACKMAN . I keep the Old Commodore, High-street, Poplar. On 6th April, about twenty minutes past 6 o'clock, the prisoner came and asked for half a pint of half and half, and tendered me a bad shilling—I tried it in the detector, called in a policeman, and gave her in charge—she said that she was not aware it was bad—I gave it to the constable.
FRANCIS KETTERINGHAM (policeman, K 313). I was called, and took the prisoner—I told her the charge; she said that she was not aware the shilling was bad—I said, "Have you got any more?" I saw her moving her hands under her apron, and took these two other shillings (produced) out of her hand—this shilling (produced) was given to me by Mr. Blackman.
GUILTY . Aged 39.— Confined Eight Months.
PLEADED GUILTY , and received a good character.—Aged 33.— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY to stealing the watch. Aged 20.— Confined Twelve Month.
460. THOMAS HAINES , stealing 24 partridge canes, value 28s., the goods of Alexander Grant and another, his masters: also. Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences 300 yards of silk, value 45l. with intent to defraud Joseph Bartholomew and another, having been before convicted: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 14.—' Four Years Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .
(MR. CLARKSON, for the prosecution, requested that judgment might be respited till the next Session, and stated that in the mean time, if the prisoner gave information to the Society for the Suppression of Vice, as to the source from whence the pictures came, as he had promised to do, the Society would recommend him to be leniently dealt with.)— Judgment Respited.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 40.— Confined Three Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM SMITH (City policeman. 244). On 28th Feb., about 10 o'clock in the morning, I went to the prisoner's lodgings, at No. 3, Holborn-buildings, and found them, one in bed, and one up—I found this hamper (produced) in the room—I asked them who it belonged to; they said it belonged to the landlord—I produce the contents of it.
WILLIAM HARRISSON . I am warehouseman to Mr. Mason—I packed this parcel of books from the Wesleyan Society; this is it—I did not write the direction, but a parcel packed for Dorchester contained these books; it is directed to Janion, Dorchester.
ALFRED CHEESEMAN . I am a carman in the service of the South Western Railway Company—I received eight parcels from the Swan with Two Necks, and when I arrived at the station, I missed one directed, Janion, Dorchester.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, April 12th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE ERLE; Sir PETER LAURIE, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. Ald. KENNEDY; Mr. Ald. ROSE; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Mr. Justice Erle, and the Second Jury.
MESSRS. BODKIN and CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
SOPHIA DE BEAUX . I am a widow. I was acquainted with the deceased, Mr. Joseph Latham—I knew him by the name of Lambert—there was a person living with him as Mrs. Lambert; I knew her by the name of Lambert—when I first knew them they were living in Newman-street, Oxford-street—while they were living there, I saw the prisoner at the house—he lived with them in that house for a few weeks—I do not exactly know the time, but it was a very short time—it was about three weeks before Christmas that they went into that house—I do not know about what time it was that the prisoner came there; I think it was some time in the course of last year, but I am not certain about that—about three weeks before Christmas the Lamberts moved from the house in Newman-street to No. 5, Foley-place—the prisoner was there with them, but I do not know whether he went at the same time—he left Newman-street to go to Foley-place, but I was not with them then—I was only two days at the house in Foley-place, to assist in cleaning the house; I mean two days before the 7th—I had seen the prisoner in that house before the 7th—I do not know at
what time it was that he ceased to reside there with the Lamberts; I think it was about ten days before the 7th, a few days after Christimas—I knew the prisoner by the name of Mr. Burinelli—I do not know whether he followed any occupation; I heard that he was a tailor—on Sunday morning, 7th Jan., I was at the house in Foley-place—at that time Mr. and Mrs. Lambert were living in the house—they occupied the ground floor, the dining room floor—they lived in the front room, and slept in the back room—no one occupied the floor above that; there was a Mrs. Williamson in the house—she occupied the same room as Mr. and Mrs. Lambert in the day, but her bedroom was at the top of the house, the back room—she was in the house on the morning of 7th Jan.—about 9 o'clock on that morning I heard a ring at the bell—I came up from the kitchen to open the door and let in Mr. Burinelli—he asked me where Mr. Lambert was—I said, "Not up"—he then said, "Where is Mrs. Lambert?"—I said, "Not up"—he then said, "Where is Mrs. Williamson?"—I said, "Not up"—he then gave me his great coat and a parcel, and told me to take it down stairs into the kitchen—I took the great coat down stairs—as I was going down the stairs I heard the report of pistols; I heard two reports—I should think there was an interval of not more than a minute or two between the two reports; it was very quick—on hearing the discharge of the first pistol I turned to come up stairs, and the second discharge took place before I got to the top of the kitchen stairs—when I got to the top of the kitchen stairs I saw Mrs. Lambert—I did not see the prisoner at that time—Mrs. Lambert was bleeding from wounds on her arm and neck—she told me that Mr. Burinelli had killed her husband, and had shot her, and desired me to go immediately for a policeman—I went and fetched Sergeant Hayes—I afterwards saw the prisoner carried away from the house on a stretcher by the police—I never slept in the house in Newman-street; I used to do needlework, and go backwards and forwards—I did not know that any intimacy existed between the prisoner and Mrs. Williamson, either at Newman-street or Foley-place.
COURT. Q. Was there anything particular in the voice or manner of the prisoner to attract your attention, when he came to the door on this Sunday morning?A. No.
MARY ANN JEANS . I am a widow. I had been living with Mr. Latham, as his wife, for fourteen years, before this unhappy event occurred; we passed as Mr. and Mrs. Lambert—before we went to live in Foley-place, we lived in Newman-street; we occupied the upper part of the house—the prisoner lived in that house, I think for five or six weeks; he was an acquaintance of Mr. Lambert's for five years—he had been some time in the country, but I should think he had been in London about four or five months altogether, with the time he was in the hospital, and the time he was at our house—I do not know how long he was in the hospital; it was the Middlesex Hospital—when he came from there, he came to live with us in Newman-street; he was an inmate of ours, and associated with us as part of the family—we allowed him to take his meals with us, and he hired a bed room in the house—he continued in Newman-street till we moved to Foley-place, and he moved with us—Mrs. Williamson was lodging in Newman-street, not as part of our family, she had her own apartment—she is a milliner—she also moved to Foley-place when we moved—in Foley-place, Mrs. Williamson slept in the upper back room, and I and Mr. Lambert slept in the back parlour, on the ground floor—the prisoner slept on the second floor—for about a fortnight he slept in the next room to
Mrs. Williamson, on the third floor; but then he removed down on the second floor—there are four rooms on the upper floor—the prisoner left the house on 28th Dec.—I believe he is by trade a tailor; he had not much to support himself during the time I knew him; but Mr. Lambert allowed him to live there, and gave him what he could afford to give him, which I think was about three shillings a week—he was always an idle, lazy man, I believe; he would never do, any thing—the reason of his moving from the upper room to the lower one was this; as we gave him his room for nothing we did not charge him for it, and the room on the second floor we thought we could not let to any one else, and as we gave him his room we thought he might as well sleep in the room which we could not let to any other person—he ceased to live there on 28th Dec., by the desire of Mrs. Williamson, wishing that he should not continue there—I had not the least idea that any intimacy had arisen between him and Mrs. Williamson, not until after he was gone from the house—it was Mrs. Williamson's desire that he should leave; Mr. Lambert was the one that mentioned it to the prisoner—after he left he did not come to the house for any purpose until the morning in question; but he sent a little boy twice with two letters to Mrs. Williamson—I did not know that little boy—I believe he did not wait for an answer—that was all the communication he had with the house after he left, to my knowledge—on Sunday morning, 7th Jan., I was sleeping in my bed room on the ground floor—Mr. Lambert was in bed with me—our bed room door was not fastened inside—I was awake when Burinelli entered the room; I had been awake some time—I heard the ring at the bell, and heard the door open, and heard him speaking to Mrs. De Beaux—I did not hear her go down stairs—I saw him enter our room—the bed was just behind the door; the door opened on the left hand, and the bed was on the left hand side—a person coming into the room, if he walked straight from the door would get to one side of the bed—that was the side on which Mr. Lambert slept—when the prisoner opened the door and came into the room I saw that he had a pistol in his hand; I only saw one, be had the other hand behind him—he said, "Mr. Lambert, Mr. Lambert! "and instantly shot him—he was quite asleep—the prisoner was well aware that Mr. Lambert slept very sound, and always laid till late in the morning—he died instantly upon receiving the shot—I at first pulled the clothes over my head, and then I jumped out of bed and ran round to see if I could get hold of the other pistol—I went towards the prisoner—I saw him change the pistol he had discharged into the other hand, and take the loaded one into his right hand—he did not say anything to me as I approached him; when I got quite close, going to take the pistol, he instantly fired—he was standing close by the wardrobe, about one or two steps from where he shot Mr. Lambert, and he was coming towards me—he was holding his arm up, with the pistol in his hand; I saw him raise his arm—the ball of the second pistol took effect in my arm and neck, and I am still labouring under the effects of that ball—the prisoner instantly left the room, and went up stairs—I cannot tell whether I fell or not.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Did you observe whether he was excited when he broke into your room? A. No; I did not perceive that he was the least excited in the world—he said, "Mr. Lambert, Mr. Lambert!" but not in an excited manner at all; he did not appear to me to be at all excited—I should think it was within two or three minutes of his speaking to Mrs.
De Beaux in the hall that he opened the door and fired the shot—he had to shut the door a little way before he could get to Mr. Lambert's bed; that was the only interruption that occurred upon his opening the door, and he immediately fired—it was as instantaneous as it could be, with the exception of his putting the door aside—Mr. Lambert had always been very kind indeed to the prisoner—Mr. Lambert sympathised with him during his frequent complaints of illness, and frequently visited him in the hospital, and took him in any little thing which he required—I also did similar kindnesses to him in the hospital—I took him tea and sugar, and any little thing that he required, or money—he said he had something the matter with his inside, but nothing we thought to hurt him at all—he always appeared to be quite well when at home; in fact, when he was receiving his money from his club, although he would not work, he would go to the theatre of a night, and stop out till after 12 o'clock at night, which was against the rules of the club—he said where he had been—I am not aware that there are Italian houses in London, which the Italians frequent in the evening—it is not my own supposition that he had been to the theatre, he told me so; in fact, when he came home late he told me where he had been—at one time he had been to see the Corsican Brothers at the Princess's—Mrs. Williamson was with him upon that occasion.
COURT. Q. Was that at a time when he was receiving money from his club on account of supposed ill health? A. Yes.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Are you aware whether he received money from any other source than his club? A. Yes, from Scotland; from the Stewarts; I believe that was from being a servant of one of the Stewart's, a Priest, in Italy—I believe he received 10l. every half year from them—he had left the last 10l. with Mr. Lambert—I believe Mr. Lambert kept some of it, which was owing to Mrs. Williamson: 1l. or 2l., and I think he gave up 4l. 10s. when he left the house—he returned the prisoner what was due, after deducting what was owing to Mrs. Williamson, and money that he had advanced to him—I do not recollect the nurse of the hospital making any inquiries whatever of me regarding the prisoner's peculiarities, or his state of health; she never made any remark—I never heard Mr. Lambert make any accusation against him, or call him an assassin, or a thief, or anything of the kind—the conduct of Mr. Lambert was always kind to him—he appeared to be grateful to me and Mr. Lambert for that kindness—he was always a very quiet man—if he ever accused Mr. Lambert of calling him a thief, a liar, or an assassin, or anything of that kind, it was perfectly untrue to my knowledge—I do not believe there was any such thing as that—we parted with the same friendly feeling evinced on both sides—he said he was very sorry if he had done anything to annoy any of us, and he wished us good bye, and left the house quietly.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Was Mr. Lambert displeased when he heard the complaint of Mrs. Williamson, and her wish that he should leave the house? A. He did not seem so very displeased about it, only as Mrs. Williamson desired it, and we were in business together, we thought he should leave; it was upon Mrs. Williamson's wish that Mr. Lambert desired it—he was not so displeased as to be very angry with him—there were no angry words passed between them—I do not know what passed between Mrs. Williamson and Mr. Lambert when she spoke to Mr. Lambert in the bed room—I suppose he felt rather annoyed—I was not present when anything passed between Mr. Lambert and Mrs. Williamson upon the subject, or between
Mr. Lambert and the prisoner, only when he was saying good bye and he was leaving the house—I never heard Mr. Lambert communicate to the prisoner any complaint that Mrs. Williamson had made—Mrs. Williamson and I were in partnership together in business—at the time the prisoner left I was not in the least aware of any improper intimacy between himself and Mrs. Williamson—I cannot tell whether Mr. Lambert was aware of it—he never communicated to me anything that Mrs. Williamson had said—I am not aware whether he knew of the intimacy or not—I was present when the settlement took place about the money, and the balance was given to the prisoner, it was in the evening, when he went away—Mr. Lambert reckoned it up, because Mr. Burinelli wished to pay for a fortnight's board while he was in Foley-place, and a fortnight's lodging for a room, but previous to that, during the time we were in Foley-place, he did not pay anything for his food or his room, only the last fortnight.
COURT. Q. What did Mr. Lambert decide about it? A. He took 1s. A day for his board, and half a crown a week for his bed room.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Did Burinelli agree to that with Mr. Lambert? A. Yes—he thought it was not enough—he told Mr. Lambert to take more, because it would not pay him, but he said, "No, you have very little money to take away with you"—I believe the settlement was reduced to writing, and I believe Mr. Lambert gave it to Burinelli, that he should look over it and see that it was perfectly correct—he understood it and agreed to it.
FRANCIS HAYES (police sergeant, E 14). On the morning of 7th Jan. I was called to No. 5, Foley-place, by the witness De Vaux, at half past 9 o'clock—the street door was open—I went into the back parlour, and saw the body of a man in bed—I believe he was dead at that time—he was bleeding from a wound at the back of the neck—Mrs. Lambert was in the room, on the bed, at the time—she was also bleeding—from the communication she made to me, I went up the stairs to the upper rooms—as I went up I heard a rattling or knocking at one of the doors, and heard the words, "Open it, open it"—I heard some voice reply, but did not hear the answer—as I ascended the stairs I saw the legs of a man pass from the door that he was attempting to get in at, to another door, and he went into a room on the same floor—when I got up the door was fastened—while I was at that door I heard the sound of a pistol—some other constables had come up at that time—I forced the door open, and found the prisoner lying on the floor of the room, bleeding—he had a wound in his face—he said, "I shall die, I shall die!"—I found a pistol lying on the floor by his side—it was quite warm, and the room was full of smoke——I sent for a doctor—Mr. Bridge came almost immediately, and came up to the room where the prisoner was lying on the floor—he was talking the whole time—he kept repeating that he was a murderer and an assassin—when Mr. Bridge came, the prisoner made a statement to me which I took down in writing—it was afterwards read over to the prisoner at the hospital, and he said it was correct—I have it here (producing it)—it is upon a piece of paper which I took out of my pocket book at the time—he said, "I was in Middlesex Hospital some time ago, and being a friend of the Lamberts, they wished me to leave, and come to live with them at their house, which I did; while there, I became acquainted with a person named Jane Williamson, and in consequence of some difference with her, Mr. and Mrs. Lambert wished me to leave their house, which I did; Mr. Lambert ascertained that Mrs. Williamson was with child by me; he threatened to strike me, and I left the house; I then became desperate from that time; that was last Thursday week; this morning I went to the
house, No. 5, Foley-place; when the door was opened to me by the servant, I forced my way into the bed room, placed the pistol behind Mr. Lambert's head, and shot him; I then shot Mrs. Lambert; I ran up stairs, where I reloaded the pistol, and shot myself, and I hope I shall soon die"—Mr. Bridge was present during the whole time that statement was being made—I produce the pistol which I found lying beside the prisoner—it is a single barrelled pistol—I also found this other pistol (producing it) down stairs, about half an hour afterwards, in the room where Mr. Lambert was lying dead.
Cross-examined by MR. LE BRETON. Q. In what condition was the prisoner when he made this statement to you? A. Bleeding very profusely from the mouth, and side of the face, and nose—he did not appear to be in pain—I believe he made use of the very expressions that I have got down; I took it down as he expressed it—I could understand him—Mr. Bridge asked him two or three questions, which he could not exactly understand, as to when he became desperate, "What time was that? "and he said, "Last Thursday week"—he spoke in broken English—I searched his lodging on that same day, about 12 o'clock, and found a carpet bag, containing wearing apparel and some letters; I gave them to Mr. Jarman, the clerk of the treasury—this piece of paper was round the two letters—I did not find any books—there was one parcel of books in the carpet bag; they were printed books; I have them here—Sergeant Smith found them; I was present when he found them—there was also another parcel of books found in the pocket of his great coat, which was given to Sergeant Smith by the servant—there was a memorandum book among them—I found the letters on a table under two books; they were folded and directed, and this memorandum was wrapped round them.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Are those the two letters, and is that the cover in which they were? (producing them). A. Yes—this is the carpet bag; it contained the books; there are four in one parcel—it also contains the parcel of books which were sent down into the kitchen with the great coat (producing them)—this book was turned down, as it is now, when I found it.
ALEXANDER BRIDGE . I am a fellow of the College of Surgeons, living in Langham-place—I was called to the house in Foley-place, on the morning of 7th Jan.—I there saw the body of Mr. Lambert—he was quite dead when I examined him—I ascertained that his death ad been occasioned by a pistol ball—the spinal cord was severed—death would have been instantaneous—I found the bullet—I have not ascertained whether it would fit the pistol; it was so much straightened—I afterwards went up stairs into the room where the prisoner was lying on the floor—I heard him make a statement, which was taken down by the constable, Hayes—I attended to that statement, as the prisoner made it—I should say it was taken down correctly by Hayes—I examined it immediately afterwards at my own house, in Hayes' presence, and found it to be substantially correct—during the time the statement was being made, I asked the prisoner questions merely to explain different portions—he was anxious to make the statement—it was said in broken English, sufficient for me to understand.
JANE WILLIAMSON . I am a milliner by trade—I resided in Newman-street, in the same house with Mr. and Mrs. Lambert—Mrs. Lambert and I were not connected in business, until we left Newman-street—during the time I lived in Newman-street, the prisoner lived there—he and I became intimate as man and wife; that had been the case three weeks, I think, before I left Newman-street—we had been acquainted longer than that,
from seeing him at Mrs. Lambert's—I think I once or twice went out for a walk with him—I used not to go to the theatre with him before that time—I have been once at the theatre with him; that was when we were in Foley-place—nobody went with us—oh, I went once before that, with Mr. and Mrs. Lambert and the prisoner—when Mr. and Mrs. Lambert moved to Foley-place, I accompanied them—I set up in business with Mrs. Lambert at that time; we took the house together, and I slept in the upper room—the prisoner also moved, and slept for a few nights in the room next to me, and then he went down to the second floor—after a short time he left; I think it was on a Thursday; in Jan., I think—I do not remember whether it was in Jan., or the latter end of Dec.; it was shortly after Christmas—it was my wish that he should leave—I communicated that wish to Mr. Lambert, and the prisoner left a few minutes after—he told him instantly to go; as soon as he could get his carpet bag ready, he went; it was after tea in the evening—Mr. Lambert told the prisoner why he was to leave—I was not in the room when he told him to leave—I did not hear what Mr. Lambert said to him about his leaving—there was no one in the room but themselves at first—they were in the dining room; the ground floor front room—I was called in afterwards, I think by Mr. Lambert—they had been together about five or ten minutes before I was called in—when I went in, Mr. Lambert said to me, "Do you wish Burinelli to leave the house?" I said, "I think it would be better"—he then said, "I will go," and he went up stairs, and got his bag to go—he said he wished to speak to me alone, and Mr. and Mrs. Lambert left the room for a minute or two—I do not remember when Mrs. Lambert came in, but when he expressed a wish to speak to me alone, she was there—after Mr. and Mrs. Lambert left the room, the prisoner asked me to meet him, and I refused—he did not mention any place or time—he had some money, which he offered to give me, but I would not take it, and he then left—when I spoke to Mr. Lambert about the prisoner, I gave him a reason for wishing him to go—I was on the ground floor, and Mr. Lambert called me into the bed room, and asked me what made me so unhappy; that was the beginning of it—he had noticed that I appeared unhappy, and asked me that question—he guessed the cause, and I said, "I think it would be better if Burinelli could leave the house"—I told him I thought I was pregnant by the prisoner—it was directly after that, that the interview between Mr. Lambert and the prisoner took place—Mr. Lambert seemed astonished at receiving this communication from me—the prisoner was in the parlour, on the ground floor, at the time—Mr. Lambert said he would protect me, and he went into the other room, and ordered Mr. Burinelli out of the house—I remained in the bed room, whilst Mr. Lambert went into the parlour, until I was called in—I heard their voices in conversation in the interval, but I could not detect the words—I never saw Burinelli after he left that day, until I saw him after he was shot—I received two letters from him; I showed them to Mr. Lambert; I did not send any answers to them—I gave them to Mr. Lambert—one I threw away, and the other was burnt—I never received but those two letters from him in my life—the first letter was wanting me to go out; I forget the exact words of it—he said that he held my honour in his hands, and it was my duty to go out and see him, and he begged I should do so—I sent no answer to that letter—the first letter came, I think, on the Tuesday, and the second on the following Saturday; that was begging me to meet him at All Souls' church, in Regent-street, that evening, from 8 till 10 o'clock, and stating that he was going to Paris—I
do not remember whether the second letter alluded to the fact of my not having sent any answer, or taken any notice of the first; I think not—about an hour before that letter came, an apprentice that I had, saw him in Foley-place, and he inquired of her how I was, and said he was going to Paris, but I received no other communication from him than those two letters—they were written in affectionate terms—on the Sunday morning in question, I was asleep in my room, and was awoke by a noise proceeding from the lower part of the house—my apprentice was sleeping with me at the time—my door was fastened inside—I heard some person ascend the stairs, and then try to open the door of my room—I called out, "Who's there? "the answer was, "Open the door; open the door"—I asked, "Who is it?"—I did not recognise the prisoner's voice at all; he seemed so agitated—he answered, "It is Luigi Burinelli"—hearing the noise previously, I thought something was wrong, and I said, "Where is Mr. Lambert?" he said, "Dead," and I think he said that he was his assassin, but I am not sure—he then went into the adjoining room—I heard the window thrown up, and I ran across my room, and looked out of the window, and I immediately heard the discharge of fire arms—my window looks out the same way as the window which was opened—I did not see anybody when I looked out of the window—I did not go into the room—the policeman came up and said, "Open the door; "when I opened my door, I had a view of the room into which Burinelli had gone—I then saw him lying on the floor, and bleeding from a wound in his face.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. I believe you say you went only once with the prisoner to the theatre? A. Twice—the second time I went I saw the Corsican Brothers—he was much delighted at the part where one brother shot another man—I forget what it was; I forget the piece now—he said he would like to appear to me when he died, the same as the ghost does in the Corsican Brothers (there was not a blood stained figure on the stage in the course of the performance)—I said to him, I think it is very ridiculous; I should not like you to appear to me when you are dead—he has frequently said that he should shoot himself—I endeavoured to reason him out of those notions—I spoke of his soul, and told him he was acting very wickedly, that he talked wickedly—he said he wished he was dead; he always imagined that he was going to die—he appeared at times very well in health, and at times he was not well—he frequently said that since he had known me he had forgotten his child—he said he thought the medical man at Penshurst had injured him—he did not describe to me how the injury arose—he always spoke of it in a tone of complaint—I used to tell him it was nonsense, that he imagined these kind of things—he said he did not imagine them—I believed that he did imagine things.
COURT. Q. Did he frequently speak about the doctor at Penshurst, and imagine he had done him harm? A. Not very frequently, but sometimes.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. You endeavoured to reason him out of these imaginings? A. Yes—I used to say I thought he was very silly, the doctor would not injure him, it was not likely; that he used to read so many operas till he fancied he was one of the beings in the opera—he used to repeat them all, sing them all, parts of all the operas—I meant he fancied he was the being that was performed, not the actor, but the individual represented.
COURT. Q. Can you name any opera in which he said he fancied he was the being of the opera? A. No, I cannot state any opera; but he used to state that they were very beautiful, and he admired them so much.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. What was your opinion from hearing him talk in this way? A. It never occurred to me that he was mad, but I thought it was very strange; he was a man of such great imagination, but I did not think he was mad—I do not remember ever saying to any person that I thought him mad—I cannot tax my memory with it—I do not think I ever said so—I might, perhaps, have said in a joke that I thought he was going out of his mind, but I did not think it; I do not remember ever saying so.
Q. In the two letters that he sent to you, were there any kind expressions n regard to Mr. and Mrs. Lambert? A. I think in one he said, "Give my respects to Mr. and Madame Lambert"—I have occasionally written letters for him at his request—(looking at some letters) these are my writing—I wrote them at the request of the prisoner—I have not looked them through; I hope there is nothing put in them that I did not write.
MR. BODKIN. Q. When were those letters written? A. I have not the slightest idea; I did not write them by his dictation, he merely expressed what he wanted said, and I wrote it in my own language—one of these letters is dated Dec., but I think I must have written it before Dec.—I think it was about Dec.—it is dated from Newman-street—they were both written in Newman-street; but I should imagine this one was the first, and that one the last I ever wrote for him—Mr. Lambert used generally to write his letters for him; he was out when I wrote these—I think they were both written in Newman-street, I could not swear so—he did not tell me that he had undergone a very painful surgical operation in the country—he told me he had undergone an operation, but he did not tell me the doctor that operated upon him; he did not tell me who operated upon him—I understood from him that he thought he was injured in that operation; he thought he was suffering from fistula—I understood from him that the operation was for fistula—he complained of pain in his left side—he always appeared changed when it was wet weather—he said he still suffered some inconvenience or pain from the fistula—I went with him to see the Corsican Brothers; there is a representation there of one man shooting another; he does it to protect some woman who he is in love with; it is Charles Kean who plays the character—the man who he shoots, is the man who is represented to have killed his brother; the death is caused by stabbing, not shooting; I am so confused I did not recollect—the ghost of the one brother appears to the other simultaneously—the prisoner then said that after his death he should like his ghost to come and visit me—that was the observation he made, in a jocular tone—that was after we had been intimate; it was when we were in Foley-place that I went to see the Corsican Brothers—he always spoke to me in terms of strong attachment—he did not talk about shooting himself before we got to Foley-place, it was when he was at Foley-place—he was jealous of me—he was not jealous of anybody in the house, or of anybody who came; he was not jealous of any particular person, but generally jealous—I do not think any foreigners came to see him in Foley-place—sometimes a friend came to Newman-street—I do not remember any Poles coming, they were Italians and Hungarians—he did not talk very often of shooting himself he said it once or twice—that was not when he was a little jealous—I never heard him say that he would shoot himself from any jealousy—he appeared jealous at times, by his talk, not by his manner—he expressed an apprehension that I might like somebody else as well as him—none of the visitors I have spoken of, went to the theatre with me at any time, neither with him, or without
him—I know he had a daughter who was down in Kent, where he had formerly lived—after he became acquainted with me he was very attentive to me—I never saw his daughter—I could not hear the conversation which took place between the prisoner and Mr. Lambert—they did not talk particularly loud.
EDWARD DUGAN (police inspector, A). I was at the Middlesex Hospital on 7th Jan., after the prisoner had been removed there—he expressed a wish to make some statement to me, and I took it down at the time in writing—I have not got it here, I lost it in the confusion—I recollect it sufficiently to enable me to say what it was he said to me—I had been visiting him at the hospital, and was returning; some one said that he wanted to make some observation to me—I returned and asked him if he wished to do so—he said he did—I asked him, did he think he was about to die—he said he thought he was dying; and I think he said he wished to die—he then said that he had written two or three letters to Mrs. Williamson, requesting an interview, and not receiving any answer, he wrote another requesting those to be returned, and not receiving any answer to any of them, he became desperate, and bought the pistols in Tottenham-court-road, and the powder in Berwick-street, Oxford-street, for the purpose of shooting Mr. Lambert—that was all that I recollect he said at that time—I do not recollect that he expressed any regret for what he had done—on several occasions when I visited him at the hospital, he asked how Mrs. Lambert was, and hoped she would recover; but I never entered into any conversation with him relative to the case after—I think it was between 1 and 2 o'clock in the afternoon when he made this statement to me.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Was this on the day of the murder? A. The very day, Sunday—I had no difficulty in ascertaining what he said, only from his speaking through his nose in consequence of the wound—I was obliged to ask him once or twice was that what he said, and he said, "Yes"—he spoke English indifferently, but clearly to be understood—I understood every word he said—it was not because I did not understand what he said that I asked him if that was what he had said, but lest I should make a mistake I repeated the word, and said, "Is that correct?"—it was not from any apprehension that I did not understand him, but lest he might not apprehend that I did understand him—I do not recollect that his reply was "Yes"—he did not say "No" at any time—it was in the affirmative—he always answered or nodded when I proposed the thing to him—I did not ask him many questions, nor did I make a long report of his case—I wrote it down in the presence of two or three persons—he told me he believed he was dying, and that was the reason that I took any note of it at all—I accidentally lost the paper at the Inquest—I did not think it was of much importance to keep it, as the man was in custody—I have been in the police force twenty-three years—the reason why I thought so little of it was, because sergeant Hayes told me at the time that he had made the same declaration to him—he came in just at the time I was taking down this statement, and he told me that Burinelli had made the same statement to him, and I then discontinued taking any more—I thought it was unnecessary—I do not recollect that he used the word "purpose."
MR. BODKIN. Q. When he made this statement to you, did you know anything of his having written letters until he told you? A. Not a word; nor about his having received no answer, or the effect upon his mind, nor anything relative to the pistols—I did not produce the memorandum I made,
before the Coroner—he did not require it—I think it was lost after that—I did not ask the prisoner to explain any particular word—I repeated the word to him to know if it was correct, whether I understood him rightly in having said such a word, and he answered in the affirmative—he appeared quite to understand what was said.
COURT. Q. Did you ask him any question about the matter, or do anything more than take his statement, and then repeat, as far as you could, what he had stated, to see whether you had accurately understood him? A. Nothing more—that was the exact thing I did.
JOHN VINCENT . I am shopman to Mr. Bevington, a pawnbroker, in Tottenham Court-road. I sold the two pistols that are produced, to Burinelli, on Tuesday, 2nd Jan.—he said that he was buying them for a friend of his, who was going to Australia—he did not buy any powder and shot—we do not deal in them.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTHEER. Q. Did he buy anything else of you upon that occasion? A. Not of me—I understand that he bought an umbrella of my employer before he bought the pistols—I did not see it—we have a book in which these things are entered.
MR. BODKIN. Q. What was given for the pistols? A. 12s.—I believe I asked 15s. for them—we had a bargain about them—he offered me 12s., and that I agreed to take—there was the usual bargaining—my employer is here.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Have you ever had any conversation with Mrs. Williamson upon this trial? A. Yes, in court.
(MR. JUSTICE ERLE was of opinion that, before evidence could be given as to what passed between the witness and Mrs. Williamson, her attention should be specifically called to the fact.)
MR. M'ENTEER to MRS. WILLIAMSON Q. Do you know a person named Vincent? A. Not that I am aware of—I do not know his name.
COURT. Q. Did you ever have any conversation with him upon any of the proceedings in relation to this matter? A. I do not remember ever saying anything to him in particular—I might have asked him if he thought the prisoner would be hung.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Did you ever state to Vincent that you thought Burinelli was mad?A. I think I said he could never have been in his right senses to have done such a thing—I am not certain that I said so to him—I might have said so, I could not swear it—I do not remember ever saying to him that I thought he was mad, but I very likely might have done—I cannot tax my memory with so doing—I thought he never could have been in his right senses to have done such a thing.
COURT. Q. Did you ever use those words, that you thought he was mad, or that you thought he could not have been in his right senses, without adding "to do such an act," or some such expression as that, with reference to what had been done? A. I really cannot Bay—I cannot tell you, because I do not remember—I might have spoken to him in that manner, but I really cannot say.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Had you any notion at all of his being a person out of his senses until this shocking event took place? A. I never thought he was out of his senses; but I thought he was very peculiar and strange, and had such imagination; I always thought that.
The following witnesses were called for the Defence.
not remember the precise month, as valet and butler—he continued in my service, as far as I recollect, about five or six months; in fact he hardly entered my service; but he was so strongly recommended to me that I took him into the house under the expectation that I should part with a servant who was then with me, but I did not part with that servant—whilst the prisoner was in my service his conduct was perfectly good, as far as I knew—I had to go off to Scotland myself shortly after he came into the house, and was absent for a considerable time, but I never heard a complaint, or anything but good of him; he was a universal favourite in the family, and among the other servants—he had a wife, as we afterwards found out—we were not aware when he first came to the house that he had a wife, but she died during the period that he staid with us—that circumstance threw him into the most exaggerated grief, he appeared quite inconsolable for days; nothing but weeping and agitation, unable to do any service whatever—my servant, Gitano, did not quit me; he went with me to Scotland, with a portion of my family, and the prisoner remained with the rest in London—the only reason of his not continuing with me was that I did not require him.
ELIZABETH DAVIS . I was cook to Mr. Crawford—I remember the prisoner being a fellow servant of mine at Mr. Crawford's—his wife died while we were in Scotland—on our return I observed that he was in very great grief—he showed it in different ways; he used to cry very often—he was very kind, and beloved by all his fellow servants—I remember his calling in Grafton-street in Sept. last, to see some of the servants—he then said that he had been very ill, and his wife had died, and he wished he could have got something, and he would have killed himself during his illness—he said his troubles were more than he could bear—he said his troubles generally came on a Friday—he said he had left his child in the country, and allowed the woman who was nursing her 4s. a week.
WILLIAM EAGLETON . I am a tailor, and reside at Penshurst, in Kent, near Tunbridge. The prisoner came to Penshurst about April, 1851—he began to work for me at the latter end of April, 1851—he continued in my employment up to about March or April, 1854—he behaved himself remarkably well during that time; his manners were those of a very quiet, sober, steady, inoffensive person—I believe his associates were all fond of his company—he had married a woman of Penshurst; she died in childbed—that produced a change in him; he appeared to be under great depression of spirits and melancholy—that was in 1854, about the beginning of the year—it was about Jan. or Feb. that his wife died, to the best of my recollection.
Q. Did any particular idea seem to haunt him at that time? A. Nothing further than seeming so melancholy; he used to say, "Oh, dear! I shall die," and words to that effect—he was so ill then from the fistula that he could not work—I used to say to him, nonsense; not to be labouring under such impressions—that did not produce any particular effect—I do not know exactly how long that state of mind lasted—I believe there are witnesses who do—it began, I should say, soon after his wife died, and he was ill, I believe, till he came to London—I believe that was in the summer of 1854—I did not form any opinion as to the state of his mind at that time, but I thought he was very strange, and he appeared more so after he lost his wife; in fact, I did not see anything before he lost his wife.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. Did he work for you all the time he was at Penshurst? A. Yes, for no other person—I am a master tailor, and
he worked as a journeyman; he worked in my shop, and bad lodgings—I employed other men; at that time I think I had four or five besides him—I believe he associated with them—I did not know anything about him except when he was at my shop—my cutting shop is separate from my house, and I did not associate with them—I believe he belonged to a club there which gives an allowance to persons when they are ill—I am not a member of that club—he was labouring under a fistula—I believe it was on that account that he came up to London—I do not know where he was married; he was married when he came to Penshurst.
COURT. Q. After the death of his wife, you say he appeared very strange; was there any other mark of strangeness but depression of spirits? A. No, not particularly, not as I observed; he was very melancholy, and his spirits seemed very much depressed.
JAMES COOK . I am a shoemaker, of Penshurst—I have known the prisoner very well for upwards of three years—he, and his wife, and child lodged with me for upwards of twelve months—after that he hired a cottage a short distance from us, where they lived together till his wife died—I observed a difference in him after the death of his wife—he was a very cheerful man when he came to our house first; very quiet, and a particularly cheerful man, and after he came back, we found a great difference—he used to sit and sigh very much, and often complain of his troubles about his wife, more particularly to my wife than he did to me—he came back to live with, us again after his wife died, and he fell ill, and had an operation performed by Mr. Valler, a medical man, at Penshurst—I was with him when Mr. Valler lanced the abscess the first time—he had a great many fancies after that occurred, and at that time he cried very much, and Mr. Valler had a difficulty in doing it; he said he would not have it done, but he did agree to it at last—I waited upon him afterwards a good deal, and I often used to find him crying and saying, "Oh, poor Louis, many troubles, many troubles"—then he would have particular fancies, sometimes saying he should die at such an hour, and oftentimes he would get in a great rage, perhaps about trifling things; we did not know what to do with him; often about Mr. Valler, the doctor, saying that he did not understand his complaint, and about his cutting him—I remember the day he left; I was out at the time—my wife and he had a few words; very few, I believe—I came in and said, "Where is Louis?" and she said he was up stairs, and he was going to leave—I did not go up to him.
Q. Had he any idea about anything coming from his wound? A. He used to say that his motions passed through it—I never heard him say anything about his bed being wet; it never was wet that I saw—at the time he went away he said, "Oh, Mr. Cook, I will be no more trouble to you;" I said, "Nonsense, Louis"—I did not wish him to go away—he started out at the door; I went with him, and we had not got many yards away, before he said, "Mr. Cook, I am no more trouble to you, I will throw myself in some river," and he continued crying for nearly half a mile where we went—I told him not to put himself out of the way, that if he wished to leave, he might go the next day—I very much wished him to come back that night, but I could not persuade him to come back—he cried loudly, and some persons heard him as we went along.
Q. Had he any apprehension sometimes of being alone in the day time? A. He would not remain by himself; he said he would not, and we got a little boy, about eight years old, to stop with him, and then he seemed a little better satisfied—the reason he gave for leaving my house was, that
my wife had said something about his little girl, that she would put her out of the door, I believe, or something; that was what my wife told me.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. He made some complaint of some supposed ill treatment of his child? A. Yes, upon that he left me—I tried to persuade him to return—we were very sorry that he should leave so, because we respected him very much—he was very fond indeed of his wife; she died suddenly in childbirth—after he left my house, I went with him—I did not like to leave him, as he talked in that way, that he would throw himself into some river—we passed over a river—I left him at Mr. Simmonds's; he agreed to take him that night, or else I should not have liked to leave him—I was present when the operation was performed—Mr. Taller lanced the abscess, but then he had a fistula as well—the abscess was almost close to the fistula—he had to operate upon him for the fistula two or three times, besides lancing the abscess—Mr. Valler operated upon him for the fistula also—I was not present on all the occasions; not at two or three—I was not present at any cutting, besides the one I have spoken of—I have often seen it dressed—there was an open wound where the cutting took place—he exhibited signs of pain under it, and was very impatient—it was a long time before he would submit to the operation—it appeared to depress his spirits more than before; I think he got worse.
JOHN SIMMONDS . I am gardener to Mrs. Stratfield, of Penshurst—I have known the prisoner about four years—I remember his marrying and coming to Penshurst—I also remember the death of his wife in childbed—I noticed a very great change in him after that event—before his wife died, he seemed a very respectable man, and a man very much respected in Penshurst by everybody, and after his wife died, he appeared quite an altered man altogether; his mind seemed very much bewildered—he did not appear to be in one state of mind two hours together, and expressed himself in that sort of way that he wished to die, and he did on one occasion ask me to shoot him—I did not hold with him in anything of the sort, but tried to persuade him different, but he never would hear anything that I had got to say—he appeared to listen at the time, but in a short time I saw by what he said that he did not listen to me—he appeared to give attention at the time, but afterwards he would make some speech by which I was certain he did not, which showed that he had not been attending—I remember on one occasion I was reading a book; I cannot recollect now what book it was, but it spoke of a man shooting himself and he said, "I think that is the best way, if anybody wants to die, to shoot himself—when he was under Mr. Valler's hands, he was receiving medicine from him, and he had formed the idea that Mr. Valler wanted to poison him with the physic, and the medicine that he brought him he poured into a saucer, and put a halfpenny into it to test it; it turned the halfpenny bright, and by that he said he proved that the medicine was poison; but still he kept going to Mr. Valler, and brought home I do not know how many bottles afterwards—I do not know whether it was the same sort of medicine, but by its appearance it was—I heard of this event by the newspapers.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. Are you at all related to him? A. He married my wife's sister, and he lived with me the last three months he was at Penshurst—that was after he was a widower—he took the death of his wife very much to heart, and became quite a changed man—he became very depressed in spirits, and lamented her loss very much—he was very fond of her—he often said afterwards that he wished he was dead—I could
not rally him in the leant by any consolation I afforded him—hit asking me to shoot him was not at the time I was looking at the book in which there was something about shooting—I was talking and reasoning with him about things he had been speaking of, but I do not recollect what passed then, and he said, "I wish you would shoot me"—we were sitting together at the fire at the time—we had nothing to drink—it was in the evening part, I do not know exactly what time—my wife was there—we did not think anything of it—we did not think much about it, because he talked in such a strange sort of way before—we laughed at him—we often used to try to laugh at him—my wife laughed at the notion of his asking me to shoot him—it did not appear that he wished that the medicine was poison—he seemed to want to be dead, but still he was afraid of the pains of death—he was afraid something would hurt him so much, yet he wanted to be dead, and it appeared by what he said that he wanted this laudanum to make him sleep and never wake any more—he never asked me to get him laudanum, that was what my wife said—I have heard him speak about laudanum, but he never asked me to get it—he asked my wife to get it for him—he never would take a drop of the medicine, because he thought it was poison—he fetched a good many bottles afterwards, but he never took a drop of it—Mr. Valler did not know anything of that—I did not tell him—I never said anything about it to anybody—he had such a peculiar way of going on, I thought if I spoke about it he would be so much offended with me that he would be against me—that was the reason I did not speak of it.
HARRIET SIMMONDS . I am the wife of the last witness. I remember the prisoner coming to lodge at our house—he wanted me to get him laudanum, 6d. worth, to lay him to sleep—he wanted to send the children for it—that occurred several times—when he came down in the morning he would say he had awful dreams, and he was sure he would come to some bad end—he was frequently saying that.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. During the time he was with you was he working for Mr. Eagleton? A. No—he did not do any work while he was with me—he was at home, because he was ill, suffering from the fistula—he had undergone the operation before he came to us.
JOSEPH HART VALLER . I am a medical practitioner, at Penshurst, I saw the prisoner there—I have attended him upon several occasions—the first attendance was about three years ago, when he was suffering from congestion of the liver, and piles—I remember his losing his wife at Penshurst—that was early in Jan., 1854—he became extremely depressed and dejected after that, and I used to notice him wandering about very much by himself, in a very low, desponding state, showing symptoms of melancholia.
COURT. Q. Is there any difference between melancholy and melancholia? A. I believe not.
MR. LE BRETON . Q. Did he work at his employment as before? A. I am not quite sure, but I think he did for a short time after his wife's death—he then applied to me about an abscess that he had—that was in April, 1854—I found him, upon examination, suffering from an abscess at the verge of the anus, which eventually terminated in fistula, for which I operated upon him—it was an operation of a very slight character—it was a fistula of a very trivial nature—he appeared to be very anxious about himself, exaggerating everything, fancying he was going to die, and that it was quite impossible that he should recover from it—I reasoned with him
about being operated upon, and had some difficulty in getting him to consent—after the operation, during the time of the healing of this little wound, he became very impatient, and very violent, and very irritable, and really, eventually, unmanageable—I applied dressings and bandages to the wound, and every day or every night I found that he had removed them, and not only had he removed them and torn them away, but he had been pulling himself about, so that he broke any little adhesions that might have taken place, and thus prevented the wound from healing properly—the wound was not likely to produce much pain; some degree of soreness, but not pain—the operation produced pain, but not else—the consequence of his tearing away the bandages, was, that it prevented the wound from healing as well as it would have done otherwise, and also protracted the healing—he still continued very violent and unmanageable after that, and ungovernable—the people in the house were exceedingly kind and attentive to him, remarkably so—I believe they did for a time pacify him and keep him in order, but he would break out again precisely in the same way—he afterwards went away from Penshurst—I should mention that he had a strange delusion with regard to this, that his water passed through this tistulous opening, which was perfectly absurd, because, before he left me, the wound was healed, and under any circumstances it would have been ridiculous—I considered that to be an utter mental delusion, quite so.
Q. As a medical man, having observed these symptoms and these circumstances, what was your opinion of the state of mind of the prisoner? A. I considered his mind in a very unsettled and unsatisfactory state.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. I believe I understood you to say that the operation you performed was one calculated to give great pain? A. Not great pain—I never had it performed upon myself—he evinced the symptoms which a man would who was suffering from pain—that is a way in which, under some circumstances, I should judge of whether an operation was painful or not; but some persons can endure pain much better than others—he acted as a man who felt that the pain was very great—he did not manifest so much impatience at the time of the operation as afterwards—he was very unwilling to submit to it; I had to persuade him—I opened the abscess, and I then found a fistulous opening communicating with the interior of the rectum—I followed that, and cut it out—I introduced the knife into the wound, and my finger into the rectum, and then drew it through and thus divided the parts intervening—I mean to represent that as being an operation which was not attended with considerable pain for this very reason, that it was a very small and a very trivial one; I mean the wound itself—there was an external abscess—I made a wound in that—I also made a wound by cutting through the fistulous communication with the rectum—I cut outwards; the abscess was opened first, then I introduced the knife into the wound, and my finger into the rectum, and then drew it out.
COURT. Q. Do you mean, you did not put your knife further in the second operation than the wound for the opening of the abscess? A. I do so—I put the knife into the rectum, as far as I thought the fistula extended, and then drew the knife out, opening the fistula.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Then the proper thing would be to introduce something to make it adhere? A. A piece of lint—the ordinary operations of nature would interfere with that to a certain extent—that would not keep up a certain extent of irritation and pain, because if the lint was properly
introduced and kept in, it would prevent Anything from passing, in that way, by the wound.
COURT. Q. How so, if the wound was in the rectum? A. The lint is introduced for the purpose of healing it up from the bottom.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Surely when an operation of. nature takes place, it must affect a wound so circumstanced? A. No; not if the lint is well introduced—an exudation from the body would touch the lint, but not remove it—it would be a source of irritation to a nervous person—he appeared to labour under the notion that his urine came by the wound—he tore off the bandages, and so retarded his cure and aggravated his own sufferings—patients are very frequently irritable, and impatient under pain, but he was unusually so—he was very much depressed in mind by the loss of his wife, and was then brought down still lower by this attack of disease; he was not in a good state to sustain an attack of this kind—I said that his mind was unsettled for this reason, that I found he was complaining again and again to me of this extraordinary and unfounded delusion with regard to his passing his urine in this manner; that was the reason—he was under my care altogether, I think about three weeks or a month, and then I lost sight of him; I think he was at Simmonds's part of the time I was attending him—I do not think he went anywhere else at Penshurst after that—I think he then came to London; he did not appear to be in better spirits when he left, he appeared very much the same—I do not think I saw him for a fortnight before he left.
COURT. Q. The witness speaks of more than one operation; was that the case? A. Yes; the first operation was upon the abscess, the next was the operation for the fistula, and at the same time removing a couple of small piles—T think it was the day after opening the abscess that I operated for the fistula—there was no further operation as far as cutting was concerned; there was the dressing.
GIOVANNI CHALIS (through an interpreter). I keep a café and restaurant, in Great Windmill-street. I have known the prisoner six years; the last time I saw him he repeated many things; that he had been very ill, and wished to leave London to go away to establish his health—he complained of the fistula,—he was rarely at my house, once in five or six months—the last time I saw him he complained a great deal of his head; at the same time I said, if he desired to go away I would give him some money, if he wanted to go to Paris—I never said anything to him about coming to my house, or keeping away—I said to him, "You are rather mad, and you had better go to Paris."
GIOVANNI CONFORTI (through an interpreter). I keep a café and restaurant, at No. 5, Old Compton-street. The prisoner came to my house seven or eight days before this event—he fell upon his misfortunes and his illness—he took refreshment at my house several times, once a day—sometimes he said what he had was good, at other times he said it was not good—one night he said he had some persons who persecuted him, and another night he said a different thing—he asked for a passport, and said he wanted to go to Paris—he said so several times, especially the last time I saw him—I believe that was on the Saturday evening before this event took place—he said before that somebody was ruining him; he never said the name—other Italians frequented the house—I told them he had better go away, and I said the same to him—he stayed at my house till 1 o'clock on the Saturday night—it was an hour before, at 12 o'clock, that he spoke about his passport to a gentleman that was there—it is impossible for me to remember what
he said—he asked for his passport—I do not remember telling a man named Giuseppe Visconti to take no notice of what Burinelli said—perhaps I may have said something; I do not remember it; I had other customers there to attend to—Burinelli said on the Saturday that he had to call on the doctor, named Zacarelli—the doctor failed in calling on Saturday, and he had to meet him on Monday—I had a commission from Burinelli to find a doctor—I found this man, Zacarelli, and he had to call on the Monday, instead of the Saturday—the prisoner said nothing upon that.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. Have you anything to do with procuring passports for persons who want them? A. No—Burinelli asked for a passport—it was not my business to go and get one—he did not want me to get him a passport; he asked somebody else there—he did not come there to dine every day; he only came eight days—I only knew him the last eight days.
ELIZABETH GURNEY . I live at No. 63, Newman-street, Oxford-street. The prisoner came to reside at my house, I think it was about 26th Dec., 1854—he took a lodging of me for one week, and at the end of that week he renewed it for the week following—he left my house on the morning of the murder, to commit it—three days before that he was very ill, and two days before he never went out—Thursday, Friday, and Saturday before the murder was committed he laid ill, and two days he laid and never got off the bed—I attended him myself with tea and coffee—he appeared very ill indeed—I asked him where his pain lay, and he put his hand to his head, as he lay outside the bed, and to his side—he appeared in such an agitated state of mind, and seemed so bad, and I asked him where his pain lay, or whether he would like to see a medical gentleman—he said, "No," a medical gentleman would be of no use to him—I took him some tea, some toast, and some eggs, which he partook of, and he thought his head was a little better—on the Friday before the murder, he appeared very much agitated; he was up and down stairs, and in the back yard several times, and I believe it was on Friday night he went out two or three times in the night into the back yard—he was very much disturbed on Friday night; I thought he had several Italian people with him talking—I went up stairs—his door was a little open—he had a very large light, and he was parading backwards and forwards in the room—he had no one with him—he was walking backwards and forwards, waving his hand so, and nothing in the world in his hand—he talked very loud, and very sharp—he did not like to be spoken to the second time about anything, if he did not happen to understand it—he was talking to himself when he was walking up and down, but in the Italian language, and I did not understand it—there was not a soul in the room with him—he was talking very loud and sharp, and walking up and down, as if he was addressing several people, but I saw no one there—I have come voluntarily to give this evidence to-day; I was not subpœnaed.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. Have you stated this to any gentlemen? A. No, to no one till to-day—I only saw the gentlemen at the door, and they asked me if I had any evidence, and I said merely being the landlady—the gentlemen took down what I had to say to-day—I was not told to come here—I came on Monday to see if I could be allowed to see him, as he had sent for me twice or three times in the hospital, and seemed very much pleased to see me, as his old landlady—I came down here to see if I could see him again in the prison—I came here to-day voluntarily—I was here on Monday, and I found the trial was to be on
Tuesday—one of the persons here told me so—the prisoner was at home for the last two or three days—he only went out on Saturday night, at 8 o'clock—he was not out above twenty minutes, and then he returned, and went up stairs, and wrote again, and then he went out—he was out on the Saturday about twenty minutes—with that exception I do not think he had been out for the last three days, but he had a latch key: I cannot say—I never saw him go out—he had a latch key to go out and get his dinner.
COURT. Q. Therefore he could go out when he pleased, for dinner or anything else, without your knowing anything of his going out or coming in? A. Yes.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Then what you meant to say was, not that he was in the house, but that you did not notice his going out? A. I did not exactly notice his going out or coming in—every time I went up stairs he was there—I went up three or four times—I do not know how he got his dinner; he did not have it at our house, he only had tea and eggs—he had had no dinner that day to my knowledge—I did not know that he went out every day to a restaurant in the neighbourhood to get his dinner; I did not know that he went anywhere—he went out two or three times into the back yard; I could see from my back parlour—the privy is at the bottom of the yard; he used that—I never saw any pistols in his room—I did not know that he had pistols—he was a stranger to me when he came—he was with me very nearly a fortnight.
MARY ANN FLOWER . I am head nurse in Forbes' ward, Middlesex Hospital; I have been in the hospital between five and six years. On Thursday, 17th Aug., I was in the ward when the prisoner was brought in as a patient by a shorter man—I directed the nurse to get him to bed, which she did—in the afternoon, a lady and the same short man came to visit him, the lady was Mrs. Lambert—she did not bring him anything then—she said to me that she did not know what to do about leaving him, he was so nervous and excited—he was very low spirited and desponding, and seemed very reluctant to be left—I did not ask him any questions—he spoke to me about a doctor on several occasions, but not that day—he said the doctor in the country had killed him, he was sure he had killed him—he seemed to labour under the impression that his wife's friends had treated him very ill—he said, "Oh, them friends of my wife's, they have not treated me well," and observations such as that—I asked the man no questions—he said he had been defrauded out of a great deal of property, it was my impression that he meant, by his wife's friends; that was what I thought and understood as his meaning—he continued very low and desponding—he used frequently to call me and say he was sure he was swimming with water, that he had wetted the bed, but there was no foundation for his saying so.
COURT. Q. In point of fact was there any wound? A. There was a wound, in that region, which required dressing in the hospital—I used to attend to it, but there was no water oozed from it at any time.
Q. Was there any operation in the hospital, anything done to him with the knife? A. To the best of my recollection Mr. Shaw once passed a probe, but I cannot be sure—he had a wound in that region, and I had to attend to the dressing of it—the patient could not see the wound.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. How long did the prisoner remain in the hospital? A. Till the 2nd Sept.—he went out to make room for cholera patients—during the whole of that time his manner was very low and desponding, he would cry for the hour together—I would ask him what made him fret, and
he would put his hand to his head, and say, "My head, my head"—in other respects he was a particularly mild and gentle man.
Q. Did you think it unsafe to leave him alone? A. I used to tell the nurse never to leave the ward any more than she could help, and when she did leave I would tell the patients to look to him; but when he became better, and, was able to walk about, I was not so particular.
ELIZABETH NAYLOR . I am one of the nurses at the Middlesex Hospital; I remember the prisoner being brought there, on Thursday, 17th Aug.—he was in rather an excited nervous state—I got him to bed—he did not appear to be aware of what was going on in the ward; he was not aware of anything—he cried bitterly when he came in, and said he should never get well—I told him to make up his mind; he would be very happy and comfortable with the rest of the patients, and not to give way—he had a fistula—I have many times said to him, "What ails you, Louis?" and he has pointed to his head, and said his head was bad—he frequently spoke to me about his bed being flooded with water—he frequently called my attention to his bed, and said his bed was very wet indeed; and to satisfy him I have taken the sheet from under him and shown it to him—he did not pay any attention to that, he seemed rather unconscious of anything.
Q. Did he ever say the bed was swamped? A. Swamped; that was the word: swamped with water—he frequently went to the window of the ward when he was ordered up; he did nothing when he got there, only looked out into the garden—I frequently noticed him crying at the window—he continued in the same state of melancholy until he left the hospital—he went out to make room for cholera patients—we had a great pressure of cholera patients at that time, and he was one that was ordered out.
COURT. Q. He was not cured then? A. No; his wound was not healed.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. Do you mean that he continued as bad all the time he was there as when he came in? A. Just the same—Mrs. Flower is the sister of the ward—I do not know that he was any better, but he was ordered up before he went away—his mind was equally bad all the time.
Q. Was there anything the matter with his mind except that he was very low spirited and crying? A. He was never like any other patient that ever we had in the ward—he always seemed so dejected; I never saw one so dejected—by his being unconscious of anything, I mean that he did not seem to notice what was said to him—I cannot recollect what I have said to him that he did not answer—I have asked him many things, and he did not know the next minute what he was talking about—I cannot tell you anything that I said to him which he did not answer, there are so many patients coming backwards and forwards—all the patients noticed him—there were fifteen beds in the ward—I cannot tell what patient was in that bed before the prisoner—the patient that was in it after him is still in it—when he left, the cholera patients were moved from the front ward to the back—there were no cholera patients in that ward—I do not keep any notes of cases, or the names of patients—I was first applied to to be a witness about a week ago; it may be a fortnight, I cannot exactly tell you the time—it was not the prisoners solicitor who applied to me; I never saw a solicitor—I think one of the gentlemen belonging to the hospital came and
asked me what I knew of the prisoner, and I told him what I did know of him—I think it was Mr. Henry, one of the surgeons—I was afterwards examined, and what I had to say was written down—I think that was last Sunday week, at the hospital—I was told the nature of the charge against the prisoner—he came into the hospital a second time, and I saw him—I knew the charge was murder—I was not told that the defence was to be that he was insane—anybody could see that he was not in his right senses; anybody, by his actions, could see, from the moment he came in, that something ailed him—he appeared insane when he came in in Aug.—I remember the lady bringing him, and a little man along with him—I did not say to them, "Good heavens, you are bringing a madman: here"—she said when she brought him that he was a very excited sort of man—I never represented to any one that he was insane.
MITCHELL HENRY . I am a surgeon, and am assistant surgeon at the Middlesex Hospital—I remember the prisoner's admission to that institution; I referred to the book, and found that it was on 17th Aug.—I visited him almost immediately after his admission, either the same day or the day after—I found him exceedingly depressed—he had the remains of a small fistula; it was so trifling that it could hardly be said to exist—I asked him to allow me to look at it—he became exceedingly excited when the subject was mentioned, and showed great terror of an examination, or of anything being done that could at all give him pain—I observed great irritability about him when I first saw him, great excitability and extreme depression—I found the remains of a fistula, a very small sore which had not healed—I divided a very little bit of skin that was there—I told him that his complaint was exceedingly trifling, and that he would get well immediately; in fact, that there was no occasion for his having come into the hospital; upon that he put up his hands, in an entreating manner, and exclaimed in broken English, "My fistule, my fistule!"—I think the next time I saw him he stated that his water was in the habit of passing through this fistula—I made a very careful examination on that head, and there was not the least ground for it—I examined him repeatedly, on subsequent days, and reasoned with him, and showed him that it could not possibly be the case; I passed an instrument into his bladder, and showed him in every way that it was an impossibility—what I said did not appear to have any effect upon him; and I saw subsequently, more clearly, that it produced no effect upon him, when he became an out patient—he left the hospital on 2nd Sept., that was when the cholera patients were admitted—he left in consequence of our requiring the beds for cholera patients; he then became an outpatient—whilst he was an out-patient he had no bodily ailment—he was cured of his bodily ailment—whenever he came he stated that his water passed through the fistula—I took a great deal of pains, in consequence of his melancholy condition, and his apparently friendless condition, to show him that it was absurd; but you might as well have talked to a stone wall.
Q. Having observed the prisoner for this length of time, what was your opinion, as a medical man, as to his mental condition? A. I could have no doubt that he was not of sound mind—from that circumstance I formed an opinion as to his power of judgment; he had no power of judging, and believed in the existence of that which was an absurdity, which did not exist—there was, no doubt, the existence of mental delusion—I saw him afterwards in the hospital.
Cross-examined by MR. BODKIN. Q. You say you have no doubt he was a person of unsound mind? A. I have said I had no doubt he was not of
sound mind; I mean his mind was not sound in that particular—I do not know that there is any difference between a man being not of sound mind and being of unsound mind; but I wish to be careful, because I have reflected carefully about what I had to say.
COURT. Q. Your words are, "I have no doubt his mind was not sound in that particular, respecting his water?" A. I have no doubt that his mind was not sound, and that it was shown in that particular.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Your opinion of the unsoundness of his mind is based entirely upon that fact? A. Not entirely, but also from his exceeding depression and melancholy, and from the circumstance that I never could get any connected story from him; I never could get from him any account of how he came to suffer from fistula, who had operated upon him, or any intelligible account at any time—his mind seemed incapable of connecting his ideas together—he was exceedingly depressed—he said very little about his thinking that he had been unskilfully treated by the surgeon who had operated upon him—I have an impression that he said something of the land when first I saw him—I wrote to Mr. Valler, after the crime was committed, when I found who it was—I felt persuaded that it was my duty to say that which I knew, therefore I wrote to Mr. Valler—the prisoner told me, in answer to the question, that Mr. Valler had operated upon him—he did not say he did not think it was skilfully performed—I said, when he first entered the hospital, my impression was that he spoke of his fistula, that it had been operated upon and no good had been done by it; but the question as to who had operateded upon him, was put recently, when in the hospital with, his wound, and I then asked him who had operated upon him—he was not suffering under piles when he first came in—I am positive there were not piles; fistula is a disease which frequently returns—I know that when I last saw him he was not suffering under fistula, when I last examined him—that was just previous to the murder—I have not seen him since in Newgate.
MR. LE BRETON . Q. In your opinion, looking at the state of the fistula, how had the operation been performed, could you judge? A. The parts were quite sound where the fistula was; it had been performed in the most skilful manner—it had evidently been very slight, and the parts were perfectly sound, with the exception of this little hole of skin, which was the merest remains of a little sore.
JOHN CONOLLY , Esq., M. D. I have devoted myself for a great number of years to the question of insanity—I am afraid for more than thirty years—for the last sixteen years, I may say, I have given my attention exclusively to the subject of insanity, at least, I practice exclusively in that department of medicine—I have been present in Court during the whole of this trial—I have heard the evidence of every one of the witnesses who have been examined—I have formed an opinion with regard to the state of the prisoner's mind—I agree with the last witness, that the prisoner was not of sound mind at the time when these circumstances which have been mentioned occurred, especially the delusion, which is perfectly inconsistent—a man cannot be of sound mind, and have an absolute delusion.
COURT. Q. You agree that the prisoner was not of sound mind in respect of the delusion of his water passing through the place where the fistula had been? A. Yes; I conceive that was a delusion, utterly inconsistent with soundness of mind.
Q. Are there any other grounds upon which you form that opinion? A. An apparent change of character, from being a very mild and inoffensive
person, to becoming sometimes excited, sometimes melancholy, his thoughts often dwelling upon suicide, and eventually, from inadequate cause, committing a great crime.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. From all these circumstances, you give your opinion about his state of mind? A. That would be my medical opinion, if such a case was laid before me in any shape.
COURT. Q. Have you formed in your mind any notion of what is an adequate motive for a great crime? A. No; I speak only of the absence of an adequate motive—I conceive that a stronger mind than that of the prisoner, may be driven to crime by a combination of circumstances, bat they must be much more severe and trying, it appears to me, than those to which the prisoner was subjected—I do not profess to have any measure for the intensity of love.
Q. Would the pain of rejected love, be in proportion to the intensity of it? A. It is very difficult to answer questions of that kind—if I might explain myself, I should say that supposing the deceased person, the man who was murdered, had murdered the object of the prisoner's love, or some violent offence of that kind was given.
Q. If the object of attack was the person who had prevented the continuance of an attachment, would that be a ground of hostility and revenge? A. I should think not at all, in a person whose mind continued sound; it might be a subject of great offence, and continued pain, but not to lead to murder and outrage—no doubt some degree of attachment, and separation from the object of it, might form a motive for revenge, and in different ways in different minds—there is no doubt a tendency to assassination in different people—I believe the Italian temperament is generally considered more swayed to fatal revenge from jealousy than more northern people—the delusion with respect to the water passing through the fistula, I think quite a decided proof of unsoundness of mind.
MR. BODKIN called the following Witnesses in reply.
MR. GILBERT M'MURDO . I am the surgeon of Newgate—the prisoner has been under my notice, during his confinement in the prison, from the day of his admission—I do not at this moment recollect the date of that—I saw him on the day he was brought in; it was about six weeks ago—I found him suffering chiefly in consequence of a wound, which he was said to have inflicted upon himself—after a few days he complained of a bleeding, which I attributed to the existence of piles, and which he allowed existed—I examined him—I found a small pile, which I considered indicative of internal piles, from which the blood proceeded—there was a small external pile, which is indicative of internal piles—generally speaking, when external piles are found, and bleeding has occurred, we presume, without putting the patient to further pain, that internal piles exist—I saw the appearance of an operation having been performed, on that part of the body, for fistula; it was not entirely healed—there was a little watery discharge from a little orifice in the skin, where it was abraded; that was the case when he came in, or within a few days afterwards; he did not tell me of it till then—that was the case when my attention was called to it—there was a little watery discharge, which is common under such circumstances occasionally, a very small quantity—he did not make any representation to me with respect to any discharge from that wound, in the manner which I have heard—he said that he passed blood from behind—he did not represent to me anything about water—he did not represent to me any gushing of
water; he did afterwards, because I asked him—he represented that he passed blood when he went to stool—I did not see it; I found that he most likely had passed blood—he did not complain to me of the passing of water, until I spoke to him on the subject—I had heard of it—I did not speak to him about it until this morning, nor did I hear of it, to draw my attention particularly to it, until yesterday—I came down to the prison this morning for the purpose of asking that question—I said to him, "Did you ever say anything to me about water having passed from behind?" he then said, "My fistule"—that was all he said in answer at that moment—I said to him, "But did you ever think that you made water from behind?" and he answered, "I don't know that I ever did"—to the best of my recollection, that was all that passed this morning—during his stay in the gaol, I have had conversations with him almost daily—in the course of my attendance upon him, and in the conversations I have had with him, I have never observed any symptoms of aberration of mind.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. I believe, with regard to fistula, there is an indication of return after an operation? A. Yes, the same state of body that produced it before, under similar circumstances, will produce it again—I have had a great many persons, about whose state of mind inquiry has been made, or was made, under my care during my tenure of office, for a considerable time—I have been surgeon to the gaol of Newgate for twenty-five years, and I have had a great many under my care; some who have been of unsound mind, some who have been thought to be so—I do not profess to be what Dr. Conolly is, set apart to that part of the profession.
Q. Supposing a man were labouring under inflammatory action of the brain, would local bleedings have a beneficial effect? A. If a person was maniacal we might not be disposed to pursue that plan of treatment; I should give him a sedative—bleeding would have a depressing effect, but every case must be spoken of per se—I have heard of persons being bled from the arm, for inflammation, or irritation of the brain—I have often heard of cupping in the neighbourhood of the brain when persons have been suffering from plethora—that is not disease.
COURT. Q. Plethora may cause a disorder of the brain? A. Certainly.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. If a man was suffering under an appearance of excitement, or insanity, would bleeding have a beneficial effect? A. Not necessarily; yet it might in some.
Q. Would quietness and a regular diet have an improving effect upon that state of mind; would quiet, and regular diet, and bleeding restore his mind? A. It is natural that quietness and regularity should improve the condition of a person thus situated.
COURT. Q. And would restore an unsound mind to a sane state? A. I did not say so.
Q. That was the purport of the question? A. I said nothing of the kind.
Q. If a man was labouring under excitement, or insanity, bleeding, and regular diet and quiet, might relieve him? A. It it very rarely that bleeding is had recourse to.
MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Do you believe that a regular system in prison in such circumstances as the prisoner was under here, would have a sedative and composing effect upon his mind? A. I think anybody committed in an excited state of mind would probably be in a more quiet state of mind after being in prison for some time, and kept quiet and regular—if a person when committed was simply in an excited state of mind from the circumstance of
his being committed, I believe his mind would become more tranquil, calm, and composed, after being there some time; that is, supposing it was merely the excitement incident to his committal.
Q. From seeing the present state of mind, you would not attempt to speak of any previous state? A. I can only speak of that which I have known.
MR. BODKIN. Q. On the first day he came in, and before any beneficial effect could have resulted from the diet and treatment of the gaol, did you observe any symptom whatever of aberration of mind? A. I did not—every case must be treated by itself; in the case of a person long depressed and debilitated, bleeding would not have a beneficial effect; on the contrary, it would add to the depression.
GOURT. Q. If he was labouring under depression, would that be increased or diminished by committal? A. If he was labouring under depression, that depression might be increased by the fact of committal—in excitement of the brain, bleeding is not at all a universal remedy—in some cases it might, but in a great many cases, in the majority of cases, I should expect it would not be had recourse to—many people may have recourse to it.
MR. BODKIN. Q. Has any medical man, on the part of the prisoner, seen him in the gaol since he has been there? A. Not that I am aware of—Dr. Sutherland has seen him with me, and he saw him separately from myself—Dr. Mayo also saw him separately from myself—Dr. Conolly has not had the opportunity of personal examination—I should have been most happy to have accompanied Dr. Conolly.
THOMAS MAYO , Esq., M. D. I have paid great attention to what are called diseases of the mind—I have never devoted myself exclusively to that branch of study, but I have paid great attention to it—I have been in practice since 1818; I studied in France for some time, and had the management of an establishment there which would probably turn my attention to it, but I have never been exclusively a physician of that class, not exclusively confined to the subject of insanity—about ten years ago Dr. Southey and I were appointed to investigate Bedlam, in relation to some charges that were made against it by Mr. Serjeant Adams—I have recently delivered a course of lectures before the Royal College of Physicians, on the subject of medical evidence and proof in cases of insanity—I was desired by the Government to visit the prisoner in Newgate—I saw him there yesterday, and had a long conversation with him—I had that conversation with him with a view to form a judgment upon the state of his mind—in that conversation I saw no symptom of aberration whatever—I have also been desired by the same authorities to attend the trial here to-day—I have carefully listened to the evidence—I have heard what has been stated with respect to the prisoner's representation or impression that water came from the wound where he had had a fistula, and an operation performed.
Q. Do you consider that, from all the evidence you have heard respecting it, to be an insane delusion of the mind? A. I conceive that impression was founded, in the patient, upon the slight dribbling of serous fluid from the cellular texture about the wound, which there must have been, even in that small place, exaggerated by his mind, that mind being intensely sensitive and excitable; I could observe that, in the conversation I had yesterday; there is a state of the body or nerves called hypochondriasis—I should conceive, considering the nature of the delusion, which was not in my eye strictly an insane delusion, considering the extreme excitability and
the sensitive state of his mind, that all his peculiarities might be accounted for, without supposing anything more than hypochondriasis.
COURT. Q. Considering the extremely excitable state of his nerves, you think that all the symptoms that have been spoken of, would be accounted for by hypochondriasis? A. All the symptoms that looked like insanity might be accounted for by that: hypochondriasis being a form set apart for those who are very nervous about their own health; a peculiar set of persons, whom it would be very unjust to call insane, persons who are peculiarly anxious and nervous on the subject of their health.
MR. BODKIN. Q. And frequently imagining diseases which do not exist? A. Frequently imagining diseases.
Q. Have you, in the course of your practice, known cases in which persons labouring under hypochondriasis have imagined diseases to exist with respect to their own person, which had no foundation whatever in fact? A. It is more frequently the case that they exaggerate a symptom—I am assuming in this case not a complete imagination, but an exaggeration—that is my opinion in this case—it is more frequently that they exaggerate a symptom, and I imagine that to be the case in this instance—they may be generally traced to some trifling foundation—I certainly do not consider that persons exaggerating in that way, can be at all properly classed with those of unsound mind; you would extend a very dangerous excuse if you did.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. YOU only saw the prisoner one day I believe? A. Only once—I have heard all the evidence here to day—I should not consider if a man thought his bed was swamped with water that that would be a delusion—I should use precisely the same method of explaining that as the other form I spoke of—if a patient held language to the effect that his bed was swamped, if it began from the slight ground which this person seems to have had, I conceive it quite natural, quite conformable with the laws of hypochondriasis, that he should go on exaggerating to any extent.
Q. After he arrived at any extent, would you consider it had ever arrived at a delusion? A. Well, that is the fallacy of division; there is no end.
Q. Then you would consider that a man who said his bed was swamped, although it was repeatedly shown that there was not a drop of water of any kind in his bed, and that delusion being still persevered in, day after day, was not under delusion? A. It would be a very strong case, I admit, there is no question about it—I do not consider incoherency, an element in making up delusion—inconsecutiveness is nearly the same thing—I should not consider inconsecutiveness and incoherency as tending to create a morbid delusion; there must be something beyond it.
Q. I will just read a passage from the work of a gentleman whom, I am sure, you must have a very good opinion of (Reading from page 26 of Dr. Mayo's own work): "In dealing with the two grounds which I have recently considered, for imputing insane delirium, namely, the presence of inconsecutiveness of thought in cases of certain delusions, how does the medical witness conduct his inquiry and arrange his evidence?—he makes, or he ought to make, each of these elements throw light on the other; where incoherency and inconsecutiveness exist there is little difficulty—continual inconsecutiveness, I believe, involves the presence of morbid delusions; that is, is sure to produce them"—do you agree with that? A. Yes, inconsecutiveness
and incoherenoy, when continued, are pretty sure to have delusion with them, and is a most important element in the proof of insane delirium—I do not observe, in the evidence given here, proof of inconsecutiveness of character in the conduct of this man—it may perhaps be an answer to your question, as far as I can give one, to say this, that I saw not that amount of disorder of thought, or any such extent of error in the succession of ideas, which would amount, in any fair reasoning or observation, to insanity; that takes in inconsecutiveness and incoherence too.
Q. I will just read you, Lord Brougham's definition of a delusion; "A delusion is a belief of facts which no rational man would have believed;" do you consider that definition to be a correct one? A. Certainly it is much too loose, obviously so; I am sure Lord Brougham himself would declare so—the basis of a delusion is a fake perception—I believe I may say that a delusion is a false perception; that false perception may either be one of the special senses, or it may be one, corresponding with the delusion of the special sense of the understanding—a delusion combining both those would be a perfect delusion.
Q. If a man fancied that he passed water in enormous quantities, and that his bed was swamped, and it was proved that he did not do it, and he was shown that the sheets were not wet, would not the two specifics for delusion exist? A. I have already explained that there is a form set apart, called hypochondriasis, which begins with certain grounds; now, a false perception, which is a real delusion, has no ground, but the hypochondriac starts upon perhaps most trivial ground, and the molehill grows into a mountain, and the expression of "swamping" perhaps takes place—that is a totally distinct thing from what I mean by delusion.
Q. Does not hypochondriasis occasionally merge into insanity? A. Of course there is an immense difficulty in drawing lines, but that would become a matter of fact—unquestionably, there must be in every science which is not a perfect one, a great deal of philosophical empiricism.
Q. Do you think that a man, whose judgment would not allow him to correct a transparent delusion, could exercise a sound judgment in other matters? A. It is often the case—I do not suspect that the person in the dock has exercised a sound judgment in any matter lately, but I allude to wisdom and experience—in such modes of delusion as belong to hypochondriasis, there are many men whose judgment is excellent, but who are exceedingly erroneous in other matters; they are unable to correct the delusion that they have in respect to their own health.
Q. If you find a delusion in respect of water, combined with a tendency to suicide, carried out in practice, would that be evidence of insanity? A. If I knew hypochondriasis to be the cause of the delusion, and the suicidal attempt—if a real insane delusion occurred, and the patient was of a plethoric character, and not of that sort of constitution in which bleeding disagrees with the insane, no doubt the loss of blood, by an accidental bleeding, or after an attempt at suicide, might temporarily benefit him.
MR. BODKIN. Q. With respect to the effect of bleeding in a plethoric subject, when the vessels of the brain are in a state of congestion, bleeding would be useful? A. Moderate bleeding; but in insanity it is not right to take as much blood as the state of the pulse would indicate—moderate bleeding may, be beneficial, if the brain is congested—the prisoner has the constitution not of our clime; he has the Italian pulse, but a very small one, and a nervous constitution; and I should very much doubt whether
bleeding would suit him under any circumstances; at least they must be very extraordinary circumstances—I carefully felt his pulse.
ALEXANDER JOHN SUTHERLAND, ESQ . I am a doctor of medicine, and have for many years paid marked attention to the diseases of insane persons—I was elected physician of St. Luke's Hospital in 1841, and have had a large practice among insane persons—I was directed by the Government to visit the prisoner, with a view to ascertain the state of his mind—I saw him yesterday, and had a conversation with him—it was before Dr. Mayo saw him—that was the only time I saw him—I was with him an hour and a half, conversing on different subjects—I did not observe any symptom of aberration of mind—I have heard the evidence in this case, and the acts attributed to him, as indicative of the state of his mind, by the witnesses, at different times—assuming them to be true, I should not, in my judgment, refer them to unsoundness of mind; I cannot consider them to have been the result of motiveless impulse; I mean the acts of violence—I have heard the history of the prisoner, and of his asking a man to shoot him—assuming those circumstances to be true, I should not refer them to unsoundness of mind—I should consider his impression that water came from his person in quantities in the bed, and that on one occasion he said that he swamped the bed, to be an illusion, the result of hypochondriasis, and not a delusion, the result of insanity—it is very common for persons suffering under hypochondriasis to take false views of the ailments of their own bodies—I find them frequently persist obstinately in those impressions—I do not consider it necessary to order such persons under restraint, or to treat them as insane persons.
Cross-examined by MR. LE BRETON. Q. May I ask you if the belief that the prisoner's bed was swamped with water, although it was not the case, was not a delusion? A. No, an illusion, the effect of hypochondriasis—the seat of hypochondriasis is generally in the nervous system; it is the effect of the nerves conveying false notices generally through the system to the brain—hypochondriasis may proceed to mental disease.
Q. If you find, in combination with hypochondriasis, suicidal notions and tendencies, and general depression and melancholy, would you not consider that evidence of a mind not sound? A. No, not taken in the way you put it, without considering the whole circumstances of the case—it would go some way to constitute mental unsoundness—it would require delusion—the bed being swamped with water is an illusion, not a delusion—the difference between an illusion and a delusion, is that an illusion is objective—a delusion may be subjective, but the judgment must be involved—an illusion acts upon the brain—when a man is argued with, and shown to demonstration that no such illusion existed, the judgment would come into play, and be called upon to decide—if after that the illusion was persisted in I should conceive the judgment to be in fault—if the judgment is at fault there is not something wrong in the mind; not on a transparent fact like that, without hypochondriasis; not in the sense of unsound mind—a mind might be perfectly sound that would come to such a judgment—if a man believed that his legs were made of glass, and it was shown that they were not, that man would not have a sound mind—the distinction between the bed swamped with water and the glass legs, is, that the one is so palpably absurd on the face of it that it is a delusion—it is not palpably absurd that the bed was swamped with water when it was shown to be untrue; I should inquire if there were any reasonable grounds for the supposition; but where it is demonstrated that there is no water in the bed, it would be—where there is
no reasonable ground for the supposition, then I call it a delusion—I do not say that the prisoner was under a delusion in this case; if I found that there was reasonable ground I should not consider it a delusion—the reasonable ground might be this; he told me that Mr. Henry had tried to persuade him that he did not pass the water behind, and he said that he showed Mr. Henry the lint, and it was wet.
Q. Do you consider that the exuding of a small portion of moisture would be sufficient ground for the illusion, if the bed was dry? A. I should consider it a great exaggeration of the fact—there is a progress in mental disease called the incubation—hypochondriasis is a very frequent cause of mental disease.
Q. Although a man may be hypochondriacal without being insane, is not hypochondriasis one of the conditions of insanity? A. It may be, but there is something superadded—if great mental depression were superadded, hypochondriasis would not be a symptom of unsoundness of mind, it would be a symptom leading out of it—a suicidal tendency is very frequently one of the symptoms of mania—there are cases in my experience, mentioned in books, where a man, after brooding over some fancied wrong, and the commission of a crime, has suddenly recovered his mental faculties—the quiet and isolation in which the prisoner has been lately, may have had a beneficial tendency on mental disease, assuming it to have existed—it does not follow at all because I found him without mental disease yesterday, that he may not have been maniacal on 7th Jan,—it may be so—taking all the circumstances of the case into consideration, I do not like to give an opinion as to whether the prisoner was of sane mind last Jan.; I think that is for the jury to give an opinion of not for me.
MR. BODKIN. Q. You did not see him in Jan.? A. No—I see in this case clear proof of his having been suffering from hypochondriasis—the tendency of hypochondriac patients is to exaggerate an ailment of the body, that is a marked feature of the ailment—this impression of the prisoner about his bed, had reference to a supposed exudation from his body, which he exaggerated—that is not a circumstance that I should consider at all unusual in a person suffering under hypochondriasis—it is one of the most usual features of the complaint.
Q. Having heard the evidence respecting this prisoner, would you refer any act of his, of which evidence has been given to day, to the influence of an unsound mind? A. I think I answered that before, in saying that the acts which I have heard of, I do not consider to be motiveless, and therefore the result of insanity; that is, assuming the facts are true, that he was dismissed from the house in the way that has been proved, and so on.
GUILTY . Aged 32.— DEATH .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, April 12th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. SALOMONS; and Mr. Ald. ROSE.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Sixth Jury.
465. JOHN WILLIAMS , unlawfully obtaining, by false pretence, 18 violins and bows, 1 guitar, and other articles, value 14l.; also, 7 packs of playing cards; the goods of Anthony Banks; also, feloniously forging and uttering an acceptance to a bill of exchange for 14l. 18s. 7d.; with intent to defraud: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 41.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 37.— Confined Three Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.— Four Tears' Penal Servitude.
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
ANN INGRAM . I am assistant to Mrs. Morgan, a milliner, in New North-road, Hoxton. On 13th Feb. a female came to the shop, and selected a quantity of goods to the amount of 12l. 9s.; she directed them to be sent to No. 21, Marion-square, Ann's-place, Hackney-road, and her husband would pay the money—about a quarter past 7 o'clock on the evening of that day, I went to No. 21, Marion-square; I took a boy with me with the goods—I saw the same female there—the prisoner opened the door to me, and asked what I wanted—I said I had brought the goods from Mrs. Morgan's, which were ordered to be sent by half past 6 o'clock (that was the direction of the female)—the prisoner called his wife, and he said to me, "Oh, Miss, I did not expect you here to-night!"—I said, "Mrs. Wilson ordered the things to be sent at half past 6 o'clock, but I could not get here before"—he then told his wife to take the goods into the back parlour—he examined the bill, and said, "It is all right"—he then took out his pocket book, and took out this cheque (looking at it)—he said the smallest amount he had got was 60l., and asked me if I had got change—my bill was 12l. 9s.; I had not change, and I asked him if he could not get change for the cheque—he said, "No;" but if I had come the next morning, he would have had change—he said he could not get change, for he was quite a stranger, he had only just moved into the house, he had only been there half an hour, but if I would take the cheque, he would call for the change in the morning—he said he was not afraid to trust Mrs. Morgan with the change—he said Mr. Topham, in the City, had recommended him to our shop—I do not know such a name—when he opened the door, I asked for Mr. Wilson, and he answered to that name—I took the cheque and went out of the door, and he called me backhand said, "You have not given me a receipt"—I wrote on the back of the invoice, "Received by cheque of George Wilson, 60l. "—I gave the invoice to him; he wanted me to receipt it on the front, on the receipt stamp, but I would not; I thought if there was anything wrong, he could come upon me for having receipted it—he said, "You had better do it"—I said, "No, you will call in the morning and Mrs. Morgan will do it"—when I got home, I gave the cheque to Mrs. Morgan, and in consequence of what she said, I went back to Marion-square as soon as possible—I knocked at the door, and a female came up—I could get no intelligence of the prisoner, except that they said he was a friend of theirs, and he had come there and stopped about twenty minutes, and he had lodged with them about two years ago—I went back to Mrs. Morgan—the prisoner did not call the next morning for his change—I did not see him again till he was in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. This evening was about the middle of Feb.? A. Yes—I had never seen the man who opened the door to me, before that night—when I was shown the prisoner in custody it was nearly a month afterwards—it was at the Mansion House, on 6th March—the boy was not with me—he had been shown the prisoner previously—the prisoner was at the Mansion House when I saw him—there were several of them—Forrester took me there—it was in a room down stairs where I was told to pick this man out—I had given a description of him before; I described him in quite a different dress to what he is now—I said he had a kind of olive green shooting coat on—when I saw him at the Mansion House he had no olive green coat on—I have not suffered through this with Mrs. Morgan—I am with her still.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Are you certain the prisoner is the man? A. Yes—the little boy was in the passage—I was standing in front of him—I was there a quarter of an hour—he was there the whole time—there was a light—the prisoner brought a light up, and put it on a shelf in the passage.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . On the evening of 13th Feb. I went with Miss Ingram to Marion-square with some goods—I saw a lady and gentleman to whom she was talking—I cannot swear that the prisoner is the man—when I saw him with the policeman, my impression was that he was not the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you at the Mansion House on the day when Miss Ingram was there? A. No—I saw this man at a station house at Hoxton—I had given a description of the man I saw when I was with Miss Ingram—the conversation with them lasted about a quarter of an hour—I was standing close to her and to the lady and gentleman.
COURT. Q. Where were you standing, in the passage? A. Yes—I do net know how many windows are in front of the house—the passage was wider than this box that I am standing in—it was a little broader—I was standing by the side of Miss Ingram—there was room for both of us to stand side by side.
PETER LEVITT (policeman, N 310). I produce this cheque—I received it and the copy of the invoice at the station house, in Robert-street, on 2nd March—on Saturday, 3rd March, I saw the prisoner, between 10 and 11 o'clock in the morning, at No. 8, Castle-court, Castle-street, Finsbury—Mrs. Morgan's boy, Taylor, was with me—the prisoner was in bed, and the female in the room awoke him—I said I belonged to the police, and came to take him into custody on suspicion of passing a forged cheque on Mrs. Morgan, in the New North-road—he said he did not know Mrs. Morgan, and never had any transaction with her—I asked Taylor if he knew that man, pointing to the prisoner, who was in bed—Taylor said, "I think I should know him better if he were up and dressed"—I told the prisoner to get out of bed and dress himself, and he did so—I then asked the boy to look at him—he did so for several minutes, and said, "That is not the coat he wore"—I said, "Look at his features, and look at him all over, and be satisfied"—I then asked him again what he thought about him, and he said, "That is not the man"—the prisoner had fully dressed himself; except his hat—he had not washed himself nor brushed his hair—he was dressed as he is now, with the exception of the handkerchief about his neck—he wore this coat, I believe—we both left the house, and I went back in two or three minutes, as there was something in the boy's appearance—I went back into the room—I did not see the prisoner—I inquired for him, and a
female said he was gone over to the public house to see the paper—I was not able to find him—I went and looked in at the public house.
COURT. Q. Did you do your best to find him? A. I did, and I stopped about the house the best part of the day—I searched the house, and stayed about the house five or six hours—I never found him—I went back to the house, and. I went the next day, and waited two or three hours in the morning, and about two hours in the evening—I did not go into the house afterwards till he was committed for trial—I went back to the house, in consequence of something in the boy's appearance, which led me to think there was some suspicion that, though he could not identify the man, he might be the man.
HENRY FITCH . I am shopman to Messrs. Rotheram, and Co., linen-drapers, in Shoreditch. I recollect the prisoner coming to the shop on 7th Feb., in company with a female—he asked me if we served the trade with ribbons—he made a selection of goods to the amount of 21l. 19s. 3 1/2 d.—he ordered them to be sent to No. 21, Marion-square, Hackney-road—he was about two hours in selecting these goods with the female—I had an opportunity of seeing him during that time—it is my business to speak to all parties as they enter the shop—I spoke to him, and gave him a chair, and called a young man, named Parish, to serve him—Farish is not here—he was ill at the time the prisoner was committed, and he did not appear—the prisoner was there for two hours, and I had an opportunity of seeing him—I have not the slightest doubt that he is the man—I should think it was about half past 3 or a quarter before 4 o'clock when he came, and it was about a quarter before 6 o'clock when he left—I cannot say whether the gas was lighted when he left, as I was in at tea when he left—the goods he selected were sent by the porter, Edwards.
COURT. Q. Has Farish seen the man since? A. He has not—he was not at the Mansion House; he was confined to his bed.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. When the porter went, did he come back and bring you this cheque? A. Yes—Prescott's are our bankers—it was sent there, and has their signature to it in our book.
Cross-examined. Q. What is the name of the person who served him? A. Farish—he was not al the Mansion House, in consequence of illness—he is not ill now—he is still in our establishment—he is not here to-day—there were other shopmen there during the transaction—two persons were taken to identify the prisoner, and they are here to-day—I was taken to the Mansion House to identify him—that was on the occasion when Miss Ingram was there—she and I did not enter at the same time into the room where he was—I believe Miss Ingram was the first to go in—I remember her coming out of the room with Forrester before I went in—I did not hear Forrester say, "Miss Ingram has identified the man"—I did not hear Miss Ingram say that she had identified the man, till after we had been in separately to see the man—the conversation between me, and Forrester, and Miss Ingram, before we went into the room, was that we were brought down there to see if we could identify the man in the presence of other parties—after Miss Ingram came out of the room where the prisoner was, there was no conversation on the subject of the prisoner, no more than, "It is now your turn"—I did not ask Miss Ingram or Forrester before I went in whether they had identified the man.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Did you identify him in the presence of other parties? A. Yes; I identified him, and was withdrawn by Forrester to ask if I had identified any one.
COURT. Q. Do you recollect how he was dressed? A. I believe he had a black coat on—he had whiskers on when at our house—they came down just under his chin—when at the Mansion House they were shaven off.
COURT to PETER DEVITT. Q. When you went to the house what name did you ask for? A. Wilson; and he answered to that name.
WILLIAM GODDIN . I am assistant to Messrs. Rotherham. I recollect early in Feb. the prisoner coming with a female and selecting goods—it was on 7th Feb., and I think it was on a Monday, about half-past 3 o'clock in the afternoon—I saw him there about two hours—I spoke to him once while he was being served—I heard him give the address where the goods were to be sent, to No. 21, Marion-square, Hackney-road—I have not the slightest doubt that the prisoner is the man.
WILLIAM EDWARDS . I am porter to Messrs. Rotherham. On 7th Feb. I took some goods to No. 21, Marion-square—a female came to the door and took the goods down, and brought the prisoner up—I gave him the invoice, and he gave me this cheque—I took it to Mr. Fitch—I have no doubt at all that the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined.. What time was it you took this parcel? A. About 7 o'clock in the evening—I was not present when the man purchased these goods—all I did was to go to this house in Marion-square, and a female opened the door, and the man came to me in the passage—he brought a candle in his hand—it was nearly a month afterwards when I was taken to the Mansion House to identify the man—I went in after Miss Ingram and Mr. Fitch had been in—when I went in they were in the same room with the man—they were aside—I was at the Mansion House once, about a month ago—it was on 6th March—I saw this man standing as he is now—I was not taken to identify him—they asked me if I remembered him.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Did you remember him? A. Yes.
REBECCA SUMMERS . I live at No. 12, Marion-square; I did lodge at No. 21, Marion-square, I know the prisoner; he is the son of the person where I lodged—I cannot recollect whether I saw him there in Feb., he has called there—I have seen him there with a female, but I cannot say whether it was since Christmas—his mother called him George Robson Wilkinson—I have left there about eight weeks—his mother gave tip the house, and I left.
JURY. Q. When you knew him did he wear whiskers under his chin? A. I cannot say—he did not wear whiskers on the side.
GEORGE WILSON . I am a solicitor, and live at No. 11, New Inn. I have an account at the Royal British Bank—it was opened on 19th Jan.—these cheques are not my writing—there is a resemblance to my writing—I know nothing whatever of the prisoner.
MR. SLEIGH to REBECCA SUMMERS. Q. Were there other persons lodging in this house besides yourself? A. There had been, but they had left—the person who had the house let our apartment out—I lodged there till eight weeks ago—when I left there was Mrs. Wilkinson and her daughter there—there was not a man lodging in the house since Christmas.
JAMES ALLEN . I am cashier at the Royal British Bank, in the Strand. This cheque for 21l. 19s., was presented through Prescott's and paid—I authorised its payment; I passed it, believing it to be genuine—this other cheque for 60l. was presented to me, I declined to pay it—there was something suspicious about it—it was torn, which led me to examine it more particularly than I did the first, which coming in through a banker's, I paid—a person named Wallace some time since had an account at our bank,
which was closed, I suppose, about fifteen months ago—there was a cheque book delivered to Mr. Wallace, and these cheques came from a cheque book which we gave to Mr. Wallace.
EDWARD WALLACE . I was sometime since in partnership with Mr. Doherty—I had an account at the Royal British Bank, about five years—I had several cheque books delivered to me for the purpose of drawing my cheques—when I dissolved partnership with Mr. Doherty, which was in June last, it was agreed that I should leave all the stock materials and books with him; and I left the last cheque book with him, at No. 1, Bridgwater-square—after the dissolution of partnership in June, I had occasion to go to Bridgwater-square—I called there—I know the prisoner, I have seen him several times at Mr. Doherty's, in Bridgwater-square—he went by the name of George Wilson—I have seen that cheque book once since, on the evening that the account of this case appeared in the newspaper—Mr. Doherty saw it and sent for me—it was on the evening of the examination—I believe Mr. Doherty is in the country.
COURT. Q. What was the nature of the business you were in? A. Artificial flower manufacturers—Mr. Doherty carries on the same business—I am not aware of any business being done at that establishment with Mr. Wilson—we do not use ribbons in artificial flower making—I saw the prisoner three or four times at Mr. Doherty's—I cannot say what he wag doing; I think he was a slight acquaintance of Mr. Doherty's.
JOHN FORRESTER . I am an officer. I took the prisoner into custody in Cree Church-lane, Leadenhall-street—I put him with six or seven other persons at the Mansion House—I introduced Miss Ingram to him, and she selected him—I took Mr. Fitch in, and he identified him—I did not communicate the result of Miss Ingraim's examination before Mr. Fitch went in.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe Fitch, Ingram, and Goddard, had each one given you a description of him? A. Yes; and the several descriptions tallied, nearly.
GUILTY . Aged 30.— Eight Years Penal Servitude.
NOT GUILTY .
ROBERT MILLER (policeman, G 178). About half past 4 o'clock in the morning of 15th March, I was in King's-row, Pentonville; I met the prisoner, she had nineteen shirts, and some other articles, wrapped round in the skirt of her frock, under her arm—I asked what she had got—she said she had got some shirts she was going to iron, as she was a laundress—I asked where she brought them from, she said from Whitechapel—I said I should take her to the station, and she said, "O! I brought them from No. 6, Hermes-street; they are my mother's!"—I went to No. 6, Hermes-street, and found the parlour window had been forced open—I informed the person in the house, and she came and identified the property.
Prisoner. Q. Did you find the window open? A. Yes, I did.
FRANCES PHELAN . I live at No. 6, Hermes-street. I went to bed on the night of 24th March at half-past 10 o'clock—I was the last in the room where the things were locked up—I believe there was one lodger up—I have lodgers—the prisoner's father and mother live in the house—the
window of this room was shut when I went to bed, and fastened with a catch inside—when I left the room I locked it, and took the key with me to the back parlour, where I sleep—I was knocked up, and found the door of the parlour locked, as I had left it—the window was open, top and bottom—I missed nineteen shirts, which were in a basket the night before, covered over with a towel and a petticoat—I have seen all the shirts, except one—one is lost—some of them have marks on them—I have one of them here—the Magistrate said it did not matter which I kept—I saw the articles at the station—I am quite certain they were the same that I had put into the basket on the overnight—the prisoner's mother has lodged in my house nearly three years—none of the property belonged to her mother.
Prisoner. I was very much intoxicated.
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Six Months.
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LIVINGSTONE DIGGINS . I am clerk to Mr. Loveland, who is clerk to the Board of Guardians of the parish of St. Luke, Chelsea. The prisoner was relieving officer to that parish—he was appointed in May, 1839—his salary at first was 100l. a year—that was raised, in Nov., 1852, to 125l.—it was his duty to give relief to the paupers, and to pay certain bills connected with the relief of the poor—on 26th Oct., 1853, he received this cheque for 56l.—that included various sums that he was to pay—the relief of the poor for that week included this bill of 2l. 1s., which was owing to the London Fever Hospital for the maintenance of three paupers while they were there—they were three paupers who were sent to the Fever Hospital—the prisoner received that cheque, and it was his duty to pay this and other bills—on the following week, on the passing of his accounts, he produced this bill as being paid, with this receipt on it, "Received. C. Hyde"—it was then treated as a discharged account—the prisoner continued to act till the latter end of Nov. last—he was suspended on 22nd Nov., and absconded a few days afterwards—I saw him again on the Fast-day.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you personally look for him, as you say he had absconded? A. No, we sent to his house—Mr. Smith took his duties—Mr. Smith told the Board that he was not competent to discharge all the duties, and assistance was given to him—this cheque is my writing—I cannot say that I handed it to the prisoner—I was in the office at the time I drew it—I cannot say that I saw the guardians, whose names are attached to it, sign it—this "T. M. Loveland" is not my writing—the amount of the weekly cheque is not similar week after week; it varies according to circumstances—the prisoner was suspended on 22nd Nov.—I do not know that subsequently he assisted Mr. Smith in his duties—Mr. Smith entered on his duties immediately after the suspension—I never heard that the prisoner went to him for the purpose of assisting in making up his accounts—certain patients who were paupers went to the Fever Hospital—that is not a matter within my own knowledge—I am not able to say, from my own knowledge, that Hannah Manning was a pauper—I can say that she was charged in his relief list, and John Bird was charged in his relief list—here is his relief list—I cannot say whether I was
present at the Board of Guardians when the prisoner applied, just before he was dismissed, for his wages—I do not think I was—I have heard him apply for wages, but not since Michaelmas, I think—I never heard him apply for wages, and state that he had expended 10l. on account—I never heard of it—I have heard him several times apply for wages—I never heard him state that there were nearly 50l. due to him—I generally attend each meeting a portion of the time—I will not state positively that I heard the prisoner make an application since Michaelmas—my memory is in a state of doubt as to the date.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Have you heard him apply, and his application refused? A. Yes, because the books were not made up—I cannot say that I handed him this cheque—there was no other sum out of which he could have paid these bills but this cheque, and it was given him for that express purpose.
CHARLES HYDE . I am secretary to the London Fever Hospital This is an account which came through my office—it is the writing of a clerk of mine—I did not receive this money—this is not my signature—I never authorised any one to sign my name.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you sure it came through your office? A. Yes, it is the writing of my clerk—I do not know that I ever saw the prisoner—the money that is paid to the hospital comes through my hands.
COURT to WILLIAM LIVINGSTONE DIGGINS. Q. Was it the prisoner's duty to pay this money with his own hands? A. Yes—he was appointed to the performance of that duty in May, 1839—I do not know what opportunity he had of becoming acquainted with the writing of Mr. Hyde.
COURT to CHARLES HYDE. Q. Did you never see the prisoner? A. No, I do not see those people—I sign the receipts, and my clerk gives them—this receipt on this bill is not a bit like my writing; it looks something like my clerk's writing, Mr. Grant's—it was my duty to receive the money through my clerk—1 cannot tell whether my clerk has received it, but I do not think he has.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Would your clerk have authority to sign your name? A. No.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LIVINGSTONE DIGGINS . It was the prisoner's duty, in April, last year, to pay 6s. 8d. to Mr. Peck, and he charged it in his relief list—this bill is for money due to Mr. Peck; it extends over two weeks in the prisoner's relief list—it would have been his duty to pay it out of these two cheques; one is for 63l., on 5th April, and the other for 50l., on 12th April—he produced this bill to me on the following week after 12th April, on passing his accounts—these initials were to it—I then treated this as a settled account, and put it amongst other vouchers.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. He was to pay the money out of these cheques? A. Yes—these cheques were given to pay all the relief of the poor for these two weeks—I do not know whether any account had been rendered by Mr. Peck at the time these cheques were given—the cheques were given to pay the accounts.
COURT. Q. Were they given on an estimate? A. Yes, an estimate furnished weekly by the prisoner of the amount he thought he would require—here it is in his writing; "Second week, ending 8th April, 63l.;
third week in money column, 50l. "—they give cheques according to the estimate.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Did not the estimate, to your knowledge, sometimes fall short of the expenditure? A. It may have done so on some occasions, but very rarely—in such instances the balance was carried on, and paid next week—I only know of the beer supplied by Peck, by the bills produced—this bill was produced to me on passing the accounts—they were passed weekly—this bill was produced to me on 20th April—if in any instance the estimate was less than the expenditure, it would be carried on, and would be paid by the estimate being increased the next week.
Q. But would he be left to pay it out of his own funds? A. It would be his own fault if he did not make his estimate sufficiently high—I cannot say that I saw these cheques delivered to the prisoner—I may have delivered them myself—the duties of the relieving officer are very-extensive in that parish—the number of paupers is very considerable—the prisoner was required to give his attendance at the workhouse for a large portion of every day.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Have you got his statement for 12th April? A. Yes, this is it—he here put down this account for beer furnished to paupers 6s. 8d.—he received the amount of his estimate, and at the end of the week he gave his account of the money that he had paid, and this 6s. 8d. appears in it—if Mr. Peck sent the account, it would be given to the relieving officer, the prisoner—his account did not run short—on the second week he had a balance of 16l. 9s. 6d.
COURT. Q. Did the prisoner produce this bill? A. Yes, and it was my business to see that it corresponded with these particular items—it is here in the names of the paupers, Bartlett, Bowdler, Lang, and others—on his being discharged he was found a defaulter.
RICHARD PECK . I furnished beer to certain paupers of Chelsea—this is my bill—I never received this 6s. 8d. from the prisoner, nor from any one—these initials are not my writing—I did not authorize any one to sign this.
Cross-examined. Q. What establishment do you keep? A. The Wellesley Arms, at Chelsea—I have a barmaid to assist me—this bill is not her writing, it is mine—I have no wife—the barmaid is the only person who assists me—I have known the prisoner since I have been in business, about three years—I knew him as relieving officer up to the period of his leaving—he has borrowed money of me, and paid me interest—he has not paid me all he borrowed—this "Pd," and "R. P." are not my writing—I have supplied beer to the parish for eighteen months or two years—I have been paid some bills, but he said, "Let them run on till they get more, and I will pay you altogether"—I sometimes let the account run on from week to week—I consented to it; I said it was no particular matter.
JURY. Q. Were you aware that the accounts were paid weekly by the parish? A. I knew nothing about that.
COURT. Q. Have you given the prisoner receipts? A. Yes—he has seen me write, but I always write my name in full to the receipts.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Russell Gurney, Esq.
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LIVINGSTONE DIGGINS . I am clerk to Mr. Loveland, who is Clerk to the Board of Guardians of St. Luke, Chelsea. It was the prisoner's duty to pay 7s. 6d. a week up to the 10th Nov. to Miss Ashe—I have got his account, where he has put down the payment of these sums—if he received from her 2l. 17s. 6d., the amount of the sum that had been paid out, it was his duty to pay that to the treasurer forthwith—I have his pass book here—he has never 'accounted to me for that sum—on 22nd Nov. he was before the Board, and was suspended for a week, in order to get his books ready, and before the next meeting he was away—these entries are to Emma Ashe.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Were you present at any time when the prisoner was before the Board, when an application from Miss Ashe was before them? A. Yes—he did not make application for his salary—I have no recollection of an application for his salary being made in my presence—an application may have been made during that period—his salary was paid quarterly, at the usual quarter days.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. At the time he left, was any salary due to him? A. Yes, five months—the accounts were not at all gone into on the 22nd Nov.—there was no deficiency mentioned to him—the reason that five months' salary was due was, that the cheque was drawn to Michaelmas, but the Guardians refused to let him have it—taking all the accounts, there was nothing due to him; there was a deficiency of 25l., due from him to the Guardians.
COURT. Q. Have you ascertained that from the prisoner himself? A. Yes, from his own books—he has never made them up finally; he was suspended for a week to make up his accounts, but he has not done that—there was a book in which he should enter sums that he received—they would be entered on one side as received, and on the other as paid to the treasurer—I have seen him make entries in that book, but I was not in the habit of seeing it—that book is not here.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CAARTEN conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT WADE . I am a painter, in the employ of Mr. David King, of Mitre-street, Aldgate. On Saturday morning, 10th March, about 11 o'clock, I was in the workshop mixing some paint, which was to be sent to Black-heath by the prisoner, who was in the employ of my master—the prisoner went to a bench and took something, and placed it in a bag; I asked him what he was doing—he said it was only a copper pan he was taking—I told him to leave it alone, there would be a disturbance about it—he said it was all right, and master plumber had given it to him—he put the bag into the cart, and went away with it, and I followed him to Kent-street—I saw him get out of the cart, and go into a marine store shop, and take the bag in with him—I saw him place some lead and a copper pan in the scale—I saw him take them from the bag—I went into the shop, and saw the man give him half a crown and some halfpence—the man then took the lead out of the scale—I told him it was stolen, and he must return it—the man gave me up the lead and the pan, and the prisoner returned the money; I allowed him to go on his journey to Blackheath, and I went to my master.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Are you in the habit of having any perquisites? A. No—if slips of lead are left, they are brought home, and put in the receiving place under the bench—they soon accumulate, and
they are then got rid of, by Mr. King ordering them to be sold or exchanged for new lead.
MASK HOLT . I am a plumber, in the employ of Mr. King. On the Friday I had been working for Mr. King; I had brought home some lead, but not the copper pan—I had placed the lead under the bench; it was Mr. King's lead—no one had a right to take it—I did not give the prisoner any authority to take this lead or this pan—there is no pretence for any one having perquisites.
Cross-examined. Q. Where had you brought them from? A. This piece from Finsbury-square, and this other from Bayswater—Mr. King supplied lead to those places.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY. Aged 22.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor. — Confined Four Days.
THIRD COURT—Thursday, April 12th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. CUBITT; Mr. Ald. KENNEDY; MR. COMMON SERJEANT; and RUSSELL GURNEY, ESQ.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Seventh Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY .** Aged 20.— Four Years Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .†Aged 19.— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 28.— Confined Four Months.
478. JAMES BIGGS and CHARLES HALL , stealing 6 bottles and 5 quarts of wine, value 30s.; the goods of Charles Newdegate: and within six months, 80 bottles, 9 gallons of wine, 2 gallons of brandy, and 2 quarts of beer, value 22l. 0s. 6d.; his property.—2nd COUNT, feloniously receiving the same.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRIGGS . I am butler to Mr. Charles Newdegate Newdegate, of Harefield-place, near Uxbridge. On 28th July, 1854, I examined the cellar, and ascertained the quantity of wine in it—I then locked it up, and deposited the key with Mrs. Mountford—on 8th March I examined the cellar; the door had been forced open, but the lock was on the cross bars—the Marquis of Donegal's butler was with me—I missed eleven bottles of port, four of sherry, sixteen of Madeira, eleven of brandy, seven, of stout, and some sundries, seventy-five bottles in all.
Cross-examined by MR. CLARKSON. Q. You are in Mr. Newdegate's confidence, and I suppose you have known Biggs some time? A. Yes—Mr. Newdegate's mother is a good deal interested in him—he did not go by the
name of Silly Billy in the house, to my knowledge—he is not a silly fellow, that I am aware of—he was an out door servant, an under gardener.
Cross-examined by MR. LAWRENCE. Q. Hall entered Mr. Newdegate's service with a good character? A. He was not in his service, but in the Marquis of Donegal's—I know nothing about him—I have never seen him in the house—I was never in the house from 25th July, when I took the account of the wines, till 8th March.
JOSEPH JOANNES . I am butler to the Marquis of Donegal, who took possession of Harefield-place on 14th Aug.—the wine cellar was then quite secure, neither I or any of the Marquis's servants had any access to it—about 1st March I went to a room adjoining the cellar; Charles Hall, who was second footman to the Marquis, had slept there for several weeks, but had left at that time—I saw that the cellar door looked very suspicious, and found that it was broken open—Biggs was under gardener—he slept there for a fortnight after Hall left, and slept there the next day—I took him to assist as an indoor servant, in the place of Charles Hall, until I could get another one—I saw Charles Hall afterwards at Hillingdon station—Biggs was not there—the inspector spoke to Hall, but I do not recollect what he said.
WILLIAM TIMEWELL . I am a police inspector of Hillingdon. On 11th March I went to the house at Harefield, where Biggs was lodging, and inquired of the woman of the house whether he was there—she said, "No"—I afterwards returned to the house, and found him in bed, speaking to the woman who before had denied him—I said, "I shall apprehend you for being concerned with another in stealing a quantity of wine and brandy from the cellar of Mr. Newdegate, occupied by the Marquis of Donegal"—he said, "I know nothing about breaking into the cellar, neither did I steal the wine; I declare I did not go into the cellar"—I said, "Very well; I do not want you to implicate yourself at all, but there are circumstances come to my knowledge from Trumper, that I shall apprehend you for, he says he drank brandy with you."
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Did you say to Biggs that you did not wish him to implicate himself, but that if he knew, he could tell you who the guilty party was? A. Yes; that was before he said anything more than that he did not go into the cellar—Biggs was alone; not in company with Hall—I did not resort to exactly the same course with Hall—I said, "I do not wish you to implicate yourself, but you may tell me who the guilty party is if you like"—I apprehended Hall on 13th March, in Pimlico, and told him the charge—he said, "Is the under butler in custody?" I said, "He is all right"—he then said, "I shall tell you the truth; I am not going to suffer for others"—I said, "I do not wish you to implicate yourself; I shall take no notice of what you tell me, but if you wish to make any statement to me when you come to the station house, I shall take it, and shall then be able to tell the Magistrate what you tell me"—he said, "Well, I shall tell the whole truth"—this was on the road to London—I did not say that if he knew the guilty parties he might tell me.
(MR. CLARKSON submitted that this was an invitation to Biggs to make a statement, which amounted to an inducement, and which would exclude it as evidence. MR. LILLEY contended that the inducement must amount to a promise, or the statement could not be excluded. The COURT considered that the inducement must be a promise of either good or evil, and would therefore receive the evidence.)
MR. LILLEY. Q. After you had taken Biggs to the station, did you
receive a communication from him that he wished to speak to you? A. Yes, and I went into the charge room to hear what he had to say—(Joannes was not there)—I said, "Do you want to see me? I hold out no inducement to you, but I shall state it to the Magistrate when you come before him"—he said, "Well, it was Charles Hall, him that slept in the room before I did; he said to me one day, 'Jim, will you have a bottle of wine?' I said, 'Yes,' and drank it—he afterwards gave me two or three bottles of other sorts; one was a bottle of champagne, which I drank at different times, and kept the bottle till it was finished"—I said, "This is your voluntary statement to me?" he said, "Yes, it is," and I took it down in writing—he said, "Hall told me afterwards that he got it from Mr. Newdegate's cellar, but I did not know it at that time, and when I went there to sleep, I found the door was broken open"—the two prisoners were taken together from the House of Detention—the case was remanded to the following Monday; Hall was then taken into custody, and they were fetched by me from the House of Detention both together—as soon as they came out of the House of Detention, the first time that they had seen one another, Hall said to Biggs, "Why, Thomas is coming down against us"—Biggs said, "He is not, to be sure"—Hall said, "Yes, and you know that he had three of the bottles of wine"—Biggs said, "Yes, he did"—that was a man who was suspected, but was not in custody—after I had taken the charge at the station, Hall said, "Now I shall tell the whole truth; Biggs came in to me one night and said, 'I say, Charley, this is Mr. Newdegate's cellar, I helped to pack it with Mr. Newdegate's butler;' I did not know that it was Mr. Newdegate's cellar up to that time, and I prayed of him not to open it; he said, 'Me and George have tried to open it before;' he broke open the door, and brought out ten bottles of wine; one was drank that night in my room; three Biggs had; three I had; and three the under butler had; I have not been happy since it was done; I have been miserable about it, and that is the reason I asked Mr. Joannes to let me leave without stopping the month"—on the same day I apprehended the under butler, Thomas Playle, and took him to the station—Hall was there with Mr. Joannes, but I made no observation to him—I said to Playle, "Now you are charged with being with the others, and stealing wine"—he turned round and looked at Hall—Hall said, "You know you had three of the bottles, and took them away, and did not you drink part of the brandy on the night we took it out?" he said, "No, I did not"—Biggs was not there—Hall and Biggs were not together before they came out of the House of Detention—on the road down, I said to Biggs, in Hall's presence, "Hall says you broke open the door;" they both laughed and said, "Well, we did it together."
Cross-examined by MR. LAWRENCE. Q. On this occasion, when they were at the House of Detention, was a gentleman named Bouverie there? A. No—Hall said, "I wish you would let me go and change my clothes"—he was in livery, being in the service of Mr. Bouverie, of No. 49, Wilton-crescent—I went with him there, and Mr. Bouverie said, in his presence, "I had a very excellent character with him, and he has pleased me very much while he has been with me"—Hall said, "I was led away"—he was crying, and appeared to be very much hurt about it—I think he said, "The under butler knows as much about it as I do;" I do not know that it was, "much more than I do;" it might have been so—the under butler was taken before the Magistrate, but there was not sufficient evidence to commit him.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Was not he discharged? A. Yes.
JOSEPH JOANNES continued. At the station at Hillingdon the inspector and Hall were present, but Biggs was not—Hall said that he was present when Biggs broke the cellar door open with a crow bar—he said, "We took ten bottles out, and drank some champagne, gave three bottles to the under butler, three bottles to Biggs," and that he had three himself.
MR. CLARKSON called
SUSAN NEWBOLD . I was in the service of Mrs. Newdegate. I know Biggs—I used to think him a stupid, silly boy—he went by the name of Silly Jemmy in the family—for the three years I was there I never heard anything against him as to misconduct or dishonesty.
(Mrs. Briggs, the wife of the first witness, also gave Biggs a good character; and Alfred Sample, watchmaker, of No. 14, Queen-street, Pimlico, gave Hall a good character.)
BIGGS— GUILTY of Receiving. Aged 22.
HALL— GUILTY of Receiving. Aged 19.
Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.
(MR. CLARKSON stated that Mrs. Newdegate, believing Biggs to be a weak silly boy, was desirous of having an opportunity of providing for him before the next Session.)— Judgment Respited.
MR. PARRY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM NORTON . I produce a cheque purporting to be drawn by Boddington and Co., on Messrs. Martin, of No. 68, Lombard-street, to whom I am ledger clerk—this cheque was paid by me, on 5th Feb.—it was presented by the London Joint Stock Bank—(read—"London, 4th Feb., 1855. Messrs. Martin and Co.,—Pay C. Waller, Esq., loss per Mercury, 1,500l. Boddington and Co., U. A." On the back of which was, "Account F. Fowler")—I do not know anything about the F. Fowler" at the back, or whether it was so when I cashed it.
SAMUEL JELLY . I am clerk to Boddington and Co., West India merchants; they underwrite at Lloyd's. I know the prisoner—he was formerly in the same employment as myself—he kept the underwriting books, and was aware that Messrs. Boddington were in the habit of drawing cheques on their underwriting accounts—I know his writing—I believe this cheque and the endorsement to be his writing—there is no disguise about the endorsement—I have known him about eighteen years—the signature resembles Mr. Davis's, who is in partnership with Mr. Boddington, and who signs cheques on the underwriting accounts more frequently than Mr. Boddington—Messrs. Boddington had no such loss as this loss on the Mercury.
Cross-examined by MR. COCKLE. Q. I suppose every clerk in the house would know that there was an underwriting account? A. Yes; it would not be principally in the knowledge of the prisoner—I speak to this writing to the best of my belief—the writing in the body of the cheque varies very little from the writing of the signature—it appears to me to be all written at the same time—I do not think there is any disguise whatever about the endorsement—eight or nine people, altogether apart from the prisoner, are employed in the house.
MR. PARRY. Q. At the time that this cheque purports to be drawn, was the prisoner in the employment? A. He had left a few days.
slightest doubt that the cheque is in his writing; and I believe the endorsement to be his.
Cross-examined. Q. And the signature? A. I should say so—it is very like Mr. Davis's signature; it has passed through the banker's—the prisoner left the employment about 25th or 26th Jan.
RICHARD DAVIS . I am one of the firm of Boddington and Co. This cheque is not in my writing, nor in that of my partner—it was not written by my authority—the prisoner was not discharged from our employment, he left—I believe that the filling up of the body of the cheque is in his writing; the former part of the signature is a very good resemblance of my signature, but the "ington" is very much like the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you pledge yourself positively that the writing in the body is the writing of the prisoner? A. I have not the least doubt about it; but not having seen him write it, I cannot pledge my oath that it is his—it is in his ordinary writing—I have seen a great deal of his ordinary writing, which resembles mine—his ordinary writing in keeping the books does not resemble mine.
THOMAS BODDINGTON . I am one of the firm of Boddington and Co. This cheque is not written by me, or by my authority—there is no other partner but me and Mr. Davis—it is an excellent imitation of Mr. Davis's signature—the body is in the prisoner's writing, and so is the back.
Cross-examined. Q. He had been in the employment of the firm for eighteen years, had he not? A. Yes.
ALFRED SCRIVENER . I am receiving cashier at the London Joint Stock Bank—this cheque was paid into the bank on 5th Feb., to the account of F. Fowler—I do not know the prisoner personally—it was cleared in the usual manner, through the clearing house, and carried to the credit of Francis Fowler.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not it on 5th March, that you were examined before the Magistrate, in this matter? A. I cannot say the date, it was somewhere thereabouts.
JOHN SAUNDERS . I am paying cashier, in the London Joint Stock Bank. I produce a cheque for 1,200l., which was presented to me by the prisoner on 7th Feb., who requested payment of it—I refused payment of it—he wanted to know what was the difficulty, and thought he could explain it—I then requested him to inform me against what the cheque was drawn—he told me against cash paid in—I then required particulars, and he told me that a cheque for 1,500l. had been paid in—I asked him on whom it was drawn—he said that he could not recollect—I asked him who was the drawer, and he gave me an answer which I could not hear—I asked him a second time, and gave him a pen and paper to write the name down—I gave that paper to the principal of the office, by whom it has been lost—I have not looked for it—several cheques were paid in to his account anterior, but that was the only cheque for 1,500l.—the others have been for 50l. or 60l.—this (produced) is the pass book—nothing further passed, and the prisoner left—the numbers of all our cheques in each book agree—supposing this 1,500l. had not been paid in to his account, he would have had about 80l. there.
Cross-examined. Q. This is the document by which you have spoken to the state of his account? A. This is his pass book—the 1,200l. cheque was presented on the same day that it is dated, 7th Feb.—when the prisoner came, he obtained his pass book at one end of the counter, and handed it to me.
took the prisoner into custody on 3rd March, on a warrant—I found this cheque book (produced) upon him (this contained a memorandum of 1,500lbeing paid in.)
GUILTY. Aged 37.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor.
—Six Year's Penal Servitude.
MR. PARRY conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD STAREY . I am a clerk, in the employ of Messrs. Bardgett and Picard, of No. 149, Fenchurch-street—I do not know the prisoner. On 30th Dec a person called at the office—I do not know whether it was the prisoner or not, but to whoever it was I paid these two cheques to the account of Boddington and Co.—I do not recollect whether the person wrote a receipt, but it is usual to take receipts—I know nothing of the receipts on the back of the cheques—we have receipts on the back of the cheques or on the accounts.
LUKE BOSWILL . I am a clerk to Messrs. Boddington. I know the prisoner, and have frequently seen him write—he kept the underwriting accounts—I should say that the receipt at the back of these two cheques of 30th Dec. is in the prisoner's writing—they are both in the same writing—that is a customary way of giving receipts—the prisoner had not received cheques before, to my knowledge—this book (produced) was kept by the prisoner to put down particulars of moneys paid to him on the under-writing accounts—I find here a memorandum of a cheque for 46l. 19s. 5d., from Bardgett and Picard to Mr. Davis—that agrees with the amount of the cheque (reading the entry: "30th Dec, 46l. 19s. 5d., cheque Bardgett")—the cheque for 47l. 11s. is not accounted for—if it had been received it ought to have been entered in the column which is now blank—this "Clm., loss," in pencil, is in the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined by MR. COCKLE. Q. In whose custody was this book? A. In the prisoner's—I got it from Mr. Davis—it was used as a memorandum for posting in the ledger—he would not hand it over to another clerk—he posted the ledger—he was our book-keeper—he had no authority whatever to receive cheques—it was his duty to make out the accounts, and get them agreed, but not to receive them—Armstrong is the collecting clerk—there was only one person in that department authorised to receive money, and I believe Armstrong was the only person—the general cashier would receive money from the collecting clerk—Armstrong would pay money over to Jelly—I have never paid money to Armstrong; I have to Jelly—I do not know whether the other clerks have or have not paid money over—Armstrong keeps the banker's books, the journal, ledger, and there books—I never knew the partners to receive money themselves—this "Clm.," in pencil, is short for "Claim"—I can swear to it being the prisoner's writing; I have not the slightest doubt of it—the prisoner got the information, which enabled him to settle the accounts, from the books, from the general ledger—he would not have recourse to any other person for information; the books would show—these were occasional losses.
MR. PARRY. Q. Does that book contain all the underwriting accounts? A. Yes; it was kept by the prisoner—if he received a cheque either directly from a party who owed on the underwriting accounts, or from me, it was his duty to make a memorandum in this book, and hand the cheque over to the cashier—cheques on that account constantly passed through his hands—this entry to Bardgett (looking at it) would indicate that the cheque had passed through his hands—when there are amounts in this column, it
indicates that the cheque has passed through his hands—all these cheques are subject to discount—the gross amount would be the balance standing in our books—I am a clerk at Lloyd's—I sometimes receive cheques—I have handed them to the prisoner on many occasions, and then it was his duty to enter them here, and pass the cheque on to the cashier, Mr. Jelly.
RICHARD DAVIS . I am a partner in the firm of Boddington and Co. The prisoner was in our employ—it was his duty to post the ledger and agree the accounts—he kept this book—this page is in his writing, in reference to this case—here ate several columns—when money is received by the collecting clerk, it is his duty to hand it to the cashier, should he not be out, having crossed it "and Co.," or "Martin and Co."—should he be out he would hand it, most probably, to the prisoner, to enable him to check the amount of payments with the sum appearing due in our books—the prisoner was constantly in the habit of having possession of cheques for the purpose of checking them with the payments prior to posting them in the ledger—this "Clm. loss" is in his writing—that signifies that no moneys had been paid, so that it is accounted for by a loss—we have a collecting clerk for that particular department—I dare say the prisoner may have received money, but cannot speak positively to the fact—if he did, it was his duty to hand the cheque to Mr. Jelly, to be entered in the banker's book, and to make a memorandum—he has never accounted to me for the cheque, and never had our consent to appropriate it.
Cross-examined. Q Is there any other writing there of the prisoner's in that book? A. I cannot say—I do not think there is, unless it is the pencil memorandum of the word "Loss," and "Vivian and S."—I cannot speak positively to the next page; it is scrawly writing, which I cannot speak positively to at all—he had no authority to receive cheques, but if he did it would not have been looked upon in the light of an offence—the persons authorised to receive money are the collecting clerk, the cashier, and Mr. Boswill; but if by any chance Mr. Armstrong or Mr. Jelly wanted to pay money, it would be taken by one of the clerks—those persons do not each keep books, but the money is entered in our banker's book as soon as it is received; that book is a check upon the pass book—we have a cash book, but do not enter money in it—directly it is received, Mr. Jelly keeps it.
SAMUEL JELLY . I am clerk to Boddington and Co. On 30th Jan. the prisoner paid me a cheque for 46l. 19s. 5d. from Bardgett and Picard—he did not pay me a cheque for 47l. 11s.—I believe the writing on these two cheques to be the prisoner's.
ALFRED SCRIVENER . I am a clerk in the London Joint Stock Bank. This cheque for 47l. 11s. has our mark on it—it was paid in on 30th Dec., to the account of the prisoner, with another drawn by himself for 10l., on the back of which are some memorandums of his own, making a total of 57l. 11s., which, to the best of my belief, are in his writing.
(MR. COCKLE submitted that there was no case of embezzlement proved.—MR. PARRY inquired whether, in the opinion of the COURT, there was evidence of larceny, in which case the COURT could amend the indictment tinder Lord Campbell's Act.—The COURT considered that the embezzlement was not proved, as the prisoner had no authority to receive the money, and that it did not amount to larceny.)
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday, April 13th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE ERLE; Sir PETER LAURIE, Knt., Ald; Sir GEORGE CARROLL, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; and RUSSELL GURNET Esq.
Before Mr. Justice Erle and the First Jury.
MR. PARRY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH ELDRED ASTINS . I live with my father and mother, at No 29, Glasshouse-yard. I have known the prisoner since 1850; he is a coppersmith—my father is an engraver—the prisoner knew my mother—I am twenty years old next birthday—when I first knew the prisoner, I was about sixteen years of age—he was then married—his first wife died whilst I knew him; he married again in 1851—he first paid attention to me at the latter end of 1850—he was then married—it was in May, last year, that he first bad connection with me—I became pregnant, and was delivered of a male child on 7th Feb. last—I first mentioned to the prisoner that I was in the family way on 18th July; he had then had intercourse with me twice—I told him that I was going to have a child—he then said, "That child must not be born alive, or else it will be the ruin of me"—he said he would get something to do away with it—he asked me if he was to give 20l., and write a letter to that effect, would I say it belonged to some one else—I told him that I would not—he asked me to meet him again, and I saw him two evenings afterwards in the City-road; I mean in the road, not at any house—I told him that I was very uneasy—he offered to take a lodging for me—he did not give me anything then—I met him again a fortnight afterwards, at the corner of Beech-lane, Barbican; that was in the afternoon—he crossed over to the Prince of Wales coffee shop; I crossed with him to the corner, and he then gave me a pill, and said that would partially do it, and the next would do it altogether—I swallowed it in his presence—I did not remain with him, or have any further conversation with him then; he went away about two minutes after I had taken the pill—it was a dark brown pill, with bright spots, and it spangled—it made my face swell, and one of my eyes bloodshot, and it gave me great pain at the lower part of my stomach, and I felt very faint—I saw the prisoner again, between A week and a fortnight afterwards, at the same place, near Whitecross-street, between 4 and 5 o'clock in the evening—he then offered me a powder, and said that would nearly effect it—I did not take that powder; I tasted it, and took it home and destroyed it—it was two or three powders together; they were of a yellow colour, and very bitter—he gave me a pill abort a fortnight after that—it was not a pill of the same description as I had before; a different one—it made me spit blood, mixed with water, an hour or an hour and a half after I had taken it, and caused a deathly feeling, a very faint feeling—it was a very dark brown pill; the first pill was very large, the second was not quite so large—in Oct. the prisoner introduced me to James Scott; that was in the street, at the corner of Chiswell-street and Whitecross-street, in the same neighbourhood as before—the prisoner said to Scott that he would give him 5l. if he would do it—I went away and left Scott and the prisoner together—the next time I saw Scott by himself—that was two or three days afterwards—Scott then offered me
some powders—I asked him to give them to me; he would not let me have them; he wanted me to take them in his presence, and I would not—I saw Scott three times altogether—on the last occasion, he Offered me a bottle of mixture; I heard him tell the prisoner that he had had to bribe the assist ant to get it before his master was up; he said it was oil of savin—Scott said that to Longman—I heard Scott say to Longman that the medicine would effectually do away with it, alluding to the infant—it was the oil of savin that he said that of—I did not take any of that mixture; he wanted me to take it in the Crown coffee house in Barbican; the prisoner was not present; he left Scott with me, and went by himself—I did not take any of the medicines that Scott gave me—I did not take it home; he would not give it me to take home—I did not take any medicine from the prisoner or Scott, except the two pills; it was offered, but I did not take it—after I had taken the second pill, the prisoner told me to tie a piece of tape round my stomach, and tell him day by day how much I decreased—I had not a very good labour—I have been ill for about four months altogether—my mother has met with an accident since, she sprained her ankle when she first went to look after Scott—I was attended by a nurse when I was delivered—Dr. Harris saw me afterwards, his assistant came too late to deliver me.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. You say when you first knew the prisoner he was married to his first wife? A. Yes; he did not court me then—I did not walk with him at that time—he was confined in White-cross-street prison for debt—I did not know by that that he was poor; he said he was not poor; he said he had got his property concealed—before hit wife died, he asked me if I would like to marry him when she did die—after his wife died, he began to court me—he was married a second, time time he first had connection with me—I knew him to be married at that time—he was married in 1851—last May was the first time I had connection with him—I never asked him to come to my house when my father was out—the first time I had connection with him was at a house in Hare-court, Aldersgate-street; I suppose it was a house of ill fame—I met him in the street on that occasion; not by appointment—he gave me some drink, and then I went with him—I had not kept his company at all before that—he used to walk about our house, and ask my sisters if I was in the same room as my mother—that was early in the evening—when I first told him of being in the family way, he said it was impossible I could be in the family way—at that time I knew a person named Simmonds, a compositor—he did not keep my company at that time; not till the latter end of July—he asked my father then if he might keep my company—the child was born on 7th Feb.—I know John Smith; he is my father's foreman—I never kept company with him—when the prisoner offered me the first pill, I took it at once, in his presence—he said I had only got a violent cold; then afterwards he said I was in the family way—he did not tell me that he give me the pill to do my cold good—I did not ask him to get me 1d. worth of. pillacotia—I mentioned about taking this pill, before the birth of the child, to my mother—she cross-examined me about the medicine—a man named Bevers told her—I did not tell my mother anything about it, until she cross-examined me—my mother knew of it two or three days after she found out about Scott prescribing for me; that was in Oct.—I think it was a month ago that I first went before the Magistrate about this matter—my mother had not wanted money for the child; the prisoner called on her, and offered her money to any amount, if she would get Simmonds to marry me—I went to ask the prisoner what he meant to do for me, when my mother
found it out; that was when I was in the family way—I did not ask him for money at that time—he said he would call on my mother, and he did—I was present at that interview—my mother did not say at that time, that all she wanted was money for the child—she told him that no money would recompense her for the way in which he had ill used me—my father is a tradesman, and has lately been a bankrupt; he carried on business as a printer—I did not at first charge a rape against the prisoner—I never accused him of that to a policeman, or gave him in charge for it, that I swear; my mother did not threaten to do it—after he married the second time, I was not very angry with him for not having married me—he had connection with me twice; the second time was at the same place as the first—I met him, and he persuaded me to go, and I went there; that was in the evening—I had never seen his wife at that time—my child was nine weeks old last Wednesday—it is a very unhealthy child—it is the first child I ever had—I did not invite the prisoner to our house, when my father and mother were out; I am quite sure I never did (looking at a note), that is not my writing—I am prepared to swear that; it is a forgery—I never had connection with him but twice—he took the pills out of a paper out of his pocket—he gave me one pill at a time; one a fortnight after the other.
MR. PARRY. Q. Do you know what age the prisoner is reputed to be? A. No, he has not told me his age lately; he said he was thirty-two in 1850—the first time he had connection with me he gave me some rum and water—my mother made this charge against him directly after she found it out, to inspector Brannan—Brannan came to me at St. Luke's Workhouse—I was confined there—my mother put me there directly she found it out, nearly two months before my confinement—I have been very ill since.
GEORGE BEYERS . I am a labourer, and live at No. 40, Brick-lane, St. Luke's; I am eighteen years old. I know the last witness—I have seen a man named Scott several times—I have seen him with the prisoner—I have seen some white powders, wrapped in blue paper, in the possession of Scott—I have heard oil of savin mentioned by Scott, in Longman's presence—when I have met them it has been at the Prince of Wales coffee house—I communicated to the prosecutrix's mother what I knew.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know Scott at all? A. I knew him only by seeing him at the Prince of Wales coffee house—I have sat and chatted with him on different occasions—we have talked on different subjects—he gave me to understand that he was an assistant surgeon—I cannot say that we talked much on surgical subjects; he did not at all to me—I never heard him talking particularly to others about surgical subjects—he told me several times of his being an assistant surgeon—he was assistant to Dr. Hardy, of Old George-street, who, I believe, is a man of some celebrity.
ELIZABETH ASTINS . I am the wife of William Astins, an engraver, of No. 29, Glasshouse-yard. The prosecutrix is my daughter—she was twenty years old last birthday, 27th Aug.—I know the prisoner—I remember the death of his first wife—after that he wanted to marry my daughter—I told him I could not think of such a thing—I said it was disgraceful altogether—I meant on account of his age, that my daughter was too young—I took him to be between forty and fifty—I first heard of my daughter's pregnancy in October last—I heard something, and was induced to question my son—I then went to endeavour to find Scott, the doctor—after I had examined my daughter, the prisoner came to my house on Tuesday evening, 24th Oct.—my daughter was present—I said to him, "Is this the return for my kindness in procuring your liberation from prison, and feeding your children
when they had no one to look after them?"—(my daughter did not show much that she was in the family way, even to the last)—he murmured out, "I can't help it now," or, "It can't be helped now"—I then spoke to him concerning certain abusive language that his wife had used concerning my daughter—he said she was in a passion—I then said to him, "Here is a pretty thing; when her father comes home she will be turned out of doors"—he then asked me if I had any confidential friend where I could send her for a time—I said I had not, and if I had I should not like to trouble them upon such a subject—my husband was at Newcastle at this time—after I had loaded the prisoner with every epithet I could think of, he said, "But you know, Mrs. Astins, the child may not live"—I said, "Live! it will live fast enough, if you will leave off playing your devil tricks with it!"—he said, "What do you mean?"—I said, "You have been giving her drugs, for the purpose of procuring abortion"—he hesitated a moment, and then said, "Does Betsy say that?"—I said, "Yes, she does say so, and more than, that, I am in possession of all the facts of the case"—he then said, "Have you seen Scott)"—I said, "Yes, I have seen Scott; and the cowardly scoundrel ran away from me"—neither I or my daughter had mentioned Scott's name at that interview before he said that—he then said, "I can't help it now; what is done can't be undone; for Christ's sake, don't expose me, or I am a ruined man"—I told him I should immediately send my husband word about it—he then wanted to know if I could suggest any plan; if he could raise a sum of money, if I thought I could get Simmonds to marry her—I said I did not think he would; it was not very likely—he then asked me, provided Simmonds was agreeable, would I consent to deceive him on the subject of the pregnancy—I said, "God forbid!"—that was pretty nearly all that passed—he asked me several times if I would appoint an interview with him, or if I would write him a letter, and I refused to do anything of the kind—I wrote to my husband, he came home on the Thursday following, and we both went to the police station about it on the Saturday night—we saw Brannan, and gave him information—that was on the Saturday following the Tuesday upon which I had the interview with the prisoner—I have been ill for three months—I have been suffering from neuralgic pains of the head, and paralysis—I am not properly recovered now—my daughter was very ill indeed before her confinement—I noticed on one occasion, that her face was dreadfully swollen on the left side, and one eye appeared very much closed and bloodshot, and I noticed that she murmured in her sleep—on one occasion she complained of sickness.
Cross-examined. Q. Women when they are in the family way, are generally ill, are they not? A. Yes—I never saw a face look like her's did—I first knew of this for a fact in Oct.—I went before the Magistrate in March—I was very angry with the prisoner—I did not threaten to charge him with rape—I did not want money from him—I never asked him for money, and would not have taken it—my daughter was taken into the workhouse; her father put her out of doors, and I put her there to protect her from the prisoner, as much as anything else—when the prisoner first came to me I abused him, for what his wife had said respecting me, and for his base ingratitude in taking advantage of the girl—I have been very angry with him since—he came to our house once after he had made an offer to marry my daughter, and my husband shut the door in his face.
JAMES BRANNAN (police-inspector, G.) I took the prisoner into custody on 15th March last, between 8 and 9 o'clock in the evening, at his house in. Red Cross-street—I told him I belonged to the police, and came to take
him into custody for being concerned with another in administering drugs to a female, for the purpose of procuring the abortion of a child—I mean the daughter of this man, the father of the first witness who was present—he said, "I know nothing at all about her: I know her father and mother, that is all I know about it"—on our way to the Police Court, on the following morning, he said, "Is this case likely to take a serious turn, Mr. Brannan?"—I said, "Pray do not ask me; if I knew I dare not tell you"—to the best of my recollection I was first informed of this matter about the latter end of Oct.—I could not charge my memory as to the date—the only reason I can assign for the prisoner not being apprehended before, is, that the prosecutrix was in a very bad state of health—1 went to see her in the workhouse, and I continued my inquiries respecting Scott; up to this morning I have had a man in search of him.
Cross-examined. Q. When you took the prisoner into custody he was in his own house? A. He was in his shop—I know very little about him—I believe he is married—I know nothing about his family.
WILLIAM WALFORD . I am a surgeon, of No. 159, Aldersgate-street—I have been requested to attend here—I have heard the prosecutrix examined—I heard her state what she took, and the effect of it—I cannot form any notion of what the first pill might be, which she describes as a dark brown pill, very large and spangled—I cannot form any notion of what the second pill might be—I have examined the prosecutrix—she is suffering from great debility—the effects she describes, after taking the pill, if her statement is correct, I should think might be produced by the pill she had taken—it might be an irritant poison—the weakness and debility she was labouring under might follow from the taking of two pills containing a powerful irritant poison—if oil of savin were administered, that would indirectly procure abortion; in large doses it would.
Gross-examined. Q. Women in the family way are subject to a number of diseases and complaints, are they not? A. Yes, especially in their first pregnancy; to swelled faces and eyes, restless sleep, and so on—there may be harmless medicines of any colour—I have sometimes had women call on me to give them something to procure miscarriage—I have not given them anything, but told them the harm of it.
COURT. Q. In your judgment, as a man of medical science, would any drug, having a tendency to procure the abortion of a woman in good health and fit to make a good child, be noxious to her health? A. No doubt it would.
GUILTY . Aged 36.— Six Year's Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. BODKIN and LAWRENCE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN CROSS . I am a sub-warder in the House of Correction, Coldbath-fields. On 3rd March, about 5 minutes to 11 o'clock in the morning, I was relieved by another officer, for the purpose of going for the report slate, which was kept hanging over where the prisoner was sitting—I went and took the slate down, and put some prisoners' numbers upon it; not the prisoner's number, but some prisoners' numbers—I then hung it up again—after I had hung it up the prisoner rose from his seat and stabbed me in the left breast with a knife—it inflicted a severe wound below the left nipple, just above the region of the heart—nothing whatever was said at the time he did it—not a word passed between us—I never gave him the least provocation—I
have the clothes here that I had on at the time (producing them)—here it a flannel shirt, a shirt, waistcoat, and coat—they were all cut through.
DAVID BAGG . I am a sub-warder in the House of Correction, Coldbath-fields. On 3rd March I was engaged in the same room where Cross was—the prisoner was sitting on a form against the wall of the work room—he was engaged in stripping the cuttings of rope or junk, previous to the prisoners picking it into oakum—he was doing that with a knife, similar to this (produced)—I saw the slate there—Cross was by the side of the prisoner—the prisoner was sitting on the right hand side of Cross, who had been standing, with the slate on his arm, writing—he dropped his left arm, and was standing with the slate against the wall, when the prisoner rose suddenly from his seat, and struck Cross with his right hand on the chest—when he drew back his hand I saw the knife in it.
HENRY WAKEFIELD . I am a surgeon in the House of Correction, Cold-bath-fields. I examined Cross's wound about a quarter of an hour after it occurred—it was about half an inch in length, and about half an inch in depth—it was on the outer side of the left nipple—the blow that caused it must have been given with considerable violence—it struck against the rib, which fortunately prevented it penetrating the chest.
Prisoner. The governor told me the other day, when I came here, when I asked him about this case, and applied to the Sheriffs for somebody to speak for me, that my case was already settled; that my certificates from the doctors, about having my head fractured, and being in a lunatic asylum, were already forwarded; and I want to know now what is the result; I have got nothing to say to Dr. Wakefield; I know nothing about the case.
Witness. In my opinion, while he was in the gaol, he has understood what he had to do.
Prisoner. Some years ago Mr. Wakefield gave me fifteen days in the House of Correction; he knows very well that I have had my head fractured, and that I have been in a lunatic asylum twice. Witness. He was apparently. insensible for some two days after this; that is, not insensible, but he was not alive to anything that was going forward—I know no reason physically why, if he chose to attend, he could not do so—I do not know anything about his head being fractured—I remember his making an entrance into my house some years ago—he was taken up on that occasion—he gave great alarm to one of my daughters, who suffered very much from it—he came under pretence of requiring professional assistance, which proved to be false—that was about ten years ago—he has been repeatedly in confinement since, as a prisoner.
GUILTY on the 1st Count.— DEATH Recorded
(See page 608.)
MESSRS. CLERK and SHARPE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM KNIGHT . I am a ship agent, and live in Tooley-street; I am part owner of the Caroline. I saw the deceased boy Sullock before his death, after his return from the voyage—that was almost immediately on the ship entering the docks, in March—there was a stupidity in his look, and he was very dirty in his person—I addressed several questions to him, and he gave me very reasonable answers—he was in a dirty filthy state; I asked him the reason of his being in that state—he told me it was in consequence of the lengthened state of the voyage, he had worn out all his clothes—I asked him if he had any shoes; he said he had none, he had lost them—I asked
him if he was unwell, he said he was not; I then asked him if he had been badly treated—he said he had not—I believe the mate (Dunlop) was there at the time, the master (Kelland) had proceeded up to our office to report his vessel—I expect the mate was in the ship, but I have no knowledge of the mate whatever; the crew were shipped at Glasgow—I do not think the mate was by, so as to hear what the boy said—there were several persons about the deck at the time, but none taking particular notice of the conversation; there were none within hearing—this conversation took place on the deck—I was speaking as loud as I am now, the Custom House officer might have been about a yard from us—I did not recognise the mate.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. YOU had known the captain before? A. Yes; about eighteen months—this was the first voyage he had been as master; before that he was mate.
KARL FREDERICK KNOFF (through an interpreter). I am a German. I was cook and steward on board the Caroline—I joined the ship at Demerara—Kelland was master of the ship—Dunlop was not the mate when I joined—he only came the day before we left Demerara; I had been then three weeks on board—Dunlop sailed in the ship from Demerara, I think as second mate, and later, after the mate died, he became mate; the captain told me that the mate was drowned—the boy Sullock was on board the ship when we left Demerara—he was a boy on board—he was in very good health when we left Demerara—he was treated quite well by the captain and mate when we left Demerara—I did not see anything done to him until about three weeks previous to our arrival in London—as I came out of the cabin I saw the captain beating him over the head with a broom stick—I cannot say how many times he beat him at that time; he beat him till the stick broke, and then he took the handle of a scrubber, and beat him with that, and broke it—the boy's head was over blood, I cannot say how much it bled; but the blood came out of his head, and likewise from his hands—later that same day, the mate threw the boy down on the deck, near the cabin, and kicked him with his foot—the boy cried very much when this was done—I do not know why the captain beat him, or why the mate kicked him—that was the first time I had seen such cruel treatment—he had, perhaps, received a box on the ears now and then—the day after he was not beaten, and in the evening they gave him clean clothes; and the boy's head was very much swollen—after that, almost daily, he received boxes on the ears, or they beat him with ropes' ends—I made the captain understand that the boy was ill, that he might not beat him any more—I had to fetch the boy, who was sitting in the forecastle, and then he was dressed clean—I cannot say how often after this the boy was beaten before the ship arrived in London, but there passed not one day when he was not beaten; he was beaten by the captain as well as by the mate—he was only beaten once with the broom stick and scrubber; afterwards it was with the rope's end—one day when we were in St. Katherine's Dock, the mate threw the boy down in the forecastle, and kicked him with his foot—the boy slept on a box in the forecastle during the voyage—I did not see any other violence used to the boy than that which I have detailed.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known the captain? A. Three months, since I have been on board the ship—I went on board at Demerara—I never had any quarrel with the captain, or with the mate—we exchanged a few words in the docks, but no quarrel—I have not taken a knife to him—I swear I never drew a knife against him—once, when the mate spoke to me, I was employed with a knife on deck—the captain's wife did not interfere
to prevent my striking the mate with a knife—the crew at last only consisted of the mate and myself; before, there were six persons altogether on board; at the time these injuries were inflicted, there were six, including the captain—at first there were seven, and when the first mate fell overboard, there were six, until we arrived in London—I did not mention this, until I was called before a court of justice; that might be about a week or eight days after our arrival in London—I do not know whether Dunlop was called as a witness on the first occasion; I did not hear him give evidence—I do not know what has become of the rest of the crew; the others left previously to me—I had never had any quarrel with the boy—I complained once to the captain that he made the galley dirty—I cannot say whether he was an idle boy; he was not a boy of dirty habits in the first part, but at the latter part he was—when; the captain ill treated him with the broomstick, there was a man present steering besides me, and the mate stood close by—the man that was steering saw it—he said nothing to the captain in my hearing—I cannot say where the rest of the crew were.
MR. CLERK. Q. Was the boy ever dirty before he began to be ill used? A. No, I cannot say that he was—when we came to London, the ship went into St. Katherine's Docks—I remained in the ship there about a week—the rest of the crew left the day we arrived.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you ever hear that the boy had fallen in the forecastle, and hurt himself? A. No, I did not hear that—I swear I never heard that he had fallen from a box, and injured his head; nor did I ever hear of his falling into the fire.
COURT. Q. Where did the mate kick him the first time? A. In several parts of the body; I cannot exactly say where, about the ribs and other parts—I could not see any consequence of these blows afterwards; the boy had his clothes on—I afterwards saw the boy dead in the hospital.
JAMES BURKETT . I am a fellow of the Royal College of Surgeons, and am surgeon at Guy's Hospital. On 21st March, the lad, Samuel Sullock, was brought to Guy's Hospital—Mr. Knight's partner, Mr. Barter, came to see him while he was in the hospital—I examined the boy—he was very dirty—he had several wounds on his legs, some on his body, others on his head, and some on his hands—the wound on the head I should call a small lacerated wound, with contusions around—he had a remarkably idiotio vacant stare—we had great difficulty in getting any information from him—I ordered his head to be shaved, that we might examine it more carefully—I first discovered two small wounds on the scalp, with the contusions I have described—on feeling one more attentively, I thought there might be some matter underneath; I therefore made an incision into the scalp, and there was a very little matter, not so much as I anticipated—I then found that the soft parts external to the skull were infiltrated as they are after contusion, and the membrane covering the external surface of the skull was detached, which was also the result of a contusion—I have no doubt that blows with a broom stick or scrubber, would have produced the appearances that I saw on the skull—a fall would produce they same result—one wound was on the left side of the head, in the frontal region, and one on the left temporal region—there were two wounds—on the legs we found some wounds healed, and some healing—they were peculiarly small wounds, which were said to have been the result of the bites of mosquitoes—I do not know whether that might be so; I never saw a mosquito bite—there were, I think, two wounds on the right leg, one nearer the groin than the other; it was a narrow wound, in great part healed; the other was a larger wound, not so much healed—there
was one on the abdomen quite healed—they were such injuries as might have been produced by kicks about the body—they were abraded surfaces; they might have been the result of a kick—if the clothes had been on, and it had occurred three weeks before, I think it could scarcely be attributed to a kick—all the wounds I saw were undergoing a healing process—they could not have been inflicted within a day or two—there was one wound on the anterior part of the right thigh, which must have been five inches long, but exceedingly narrow; I heard that that was the result of a rope's end, and I think it very likely—there was no contusion about the wounds on the extremities—I apprehend the effect of a severe blow from a rope's end, with the clothes on, would be merely to raise the cuticle, and contuse the part, produce a blister, which would break, and then there would be merely the abrasion of the skin, which would be very superficial indeed—the wound I saw was very superficial, and quite consistent with that species of injury—the wound on the abdomen was rather oval than long—I should not call it a wound; there was a scar; there had been a wound evidently—there was just a little scab in the centre, round the cuticle—the hands were very much contused; the back of the left hand particularly, and there was an abraded surface, either on the ring or index finger, and also an abraded surface on the nose—blows on the hand with a stick, I should say, would be very likely to produce that appearance—I should think a fall would easily produce the abrasions I saw on the face—the boy was in the hospital about four days; he died on the 25th—the cause of death was bronchitis—I made a post-mortem examination—I discovered nothing more with regard to the wounds on the body—I examined more attentively the wound on the skull—I found the scalp very much infiltrated from the result of the blow—the body was otherwise healthy; there was not a diseased organ, except the lungs—the brain was particularly healthy.
Cross-examined. Q. I think you have said the bruises on the head might have been caused by a fall? A. They might; I think it is quite possible that the wounds on the body might have been caused by a fall, or by knocking against some hard surface.
HENRY JOSEPH KING (Thames policeman) Examined by MR. RIBTON. I took Kelland into custody on the evening of Friday, 30th March; that was subsequent to the first inquest; there was an adjourned inquest—I do not know who was examined on the first occasion; I believe the mate was; I was outside, and the witnesses were examined one after the other—I saw Dunlop go in, but I did not hear his evidence—Kelland was not in custody at that time—the rest of the crew did not give evidence, Dunlop was the only one on that day; the inquest was then adjourned to the Tuesday—I apprehended Kelland on the Friday before that—Knoff gave evidence on the Saturday before the Magistrate, not at the inquest—Dunlop did not give evidence at the second inquest—Knoff gave evidence at the second inquest, and I believe Mr. Barter, the owner, gave some little evidence, and myself—I found Knoff on the Thursday evening—after the first inquest had been held, having ascertained that the steward was still remaining in London, and knowing him to be a German, I went from one sugar house to another, and from one lodging house to another until I found him—the captain told me on Tuesday, the night of the first inquest, that he believed he was in London; he did not tell me where I might find him—the captain was not in custody then; I had no conversation with him then—he was at the inquest—I went to the vessel, but did not go on board—I had not a particularly long conversation with him that evening—perhaps I was talking
to him half an hour previous to going down to the vessel; it might have been a little more—he said he thought the crew had gone down to Glasgow, or Greenock, he did not know which; and the steward he thought was still in London—I cannot recall to memory whether he told me that the steward was a German, or not; I do not think he did; I will not be sure he did not—I have made efforts to find the crew—the captain called a lad on shore from the schooner that night; he said he knew where the men had been lodging, and he took me to a lodging house in Burr-street—I did not find any of them there; it was where they had been stopping—I made other efforts—one of the Jury thought the authorities should write down to Glasgow, and a letter was written, and an answer received on Saturday, 31st March—the letter stated that two of the men were at Glasgow, that they had shipped on board the Joseph Cunard, and were going to sail on Thursday—on the Saturday the captain and mate were taken before the Magistrate; that was previous to the second inquest—it was after I had found out Knoff that the captain was taken into custody, and before Knoff had given any evidence—I took him to an interpreter, to ascertain whether there was sufficient to empower me to take the captain into custody, before I took him.
MR. CLERK. Q. Was the first inquest on 27th March? A. It was—Dunlop then went in as a witness—I did not take Dunlop into custody till I had found Knoff—I took him on Saturday, 31st March, and the day following I apprehended the captain—the adjourned inquest was on 2nd April—at that time both the prisoners were in custody, and had been remanded by the Magistrate—it was on that second occasion that Knoff gave evidence before the Coroner.
Witness for the Defence.
WILLIAM BARTER . I am a ship and insurance broker, in partnership with Mr. Knight Kelland has been in our employ about five years—I have known him about that time—he has been many voyages as mate, and on the last voyage, in consequence of his good conduct, I put him in as master—he has borne a very excellent character as a kind and humane man, and in his treatment of the crew generally—it is my intention to give him another vessel, so dissatisfied am I with the proceedings of the police, in preventing the seamen from being brought here that the case might have had the full investigation which it deserves—I should have got them here myself had I not been prevented by the police; I offered to do it at my own expense—I have been most grossly imposed upon by the management of the police in this case.
Cross-examined by MR. CLERK. Q. Is it a fact that you offered to get the crew up here? A. Yes, at my own expense, if they could not be got else—I made that offer first to the Coroner—I paid a great deal of attention to the case—I attended to it day after day, that it might be fully investigated, and the parties committing the injury might be properly punished—I said I would assist all I could to bring them to justice—I suggested to the Coroner how the crew might be got—I was ill for some days, and as soon as I got up from my illness, I ascertained from the captain that the crew had gone to Scotland—he assisted me in every way to find out where they had gone—I suggested to the Coroner that the best way would be to write to Greenock and Glasgow, and I would write to my own correspondent to get them up, if possible—the Coroner thought it better to put it in the hands of the police—I considered that the police and myself were working on the same ground, to bring the parties to justice, but I am convinced they have only been working for a conviction, and not for the
ends of justice—I certainly did not write to my correspondent to obtain the men, because the inspector, King, promised me he would do so—when the men were not forthcoming, there was a letter, as Mr. King says, on the Saturday, stating that the men were shipped on board the Joseph Cunard, about to sail on the Thursday following—I suggested to him the propriety of having the men here—he said he would speak to his superintendent to have them here, and if it was the intention of the superintendent to have them here or not, he would let me know—I was waiting for that information—I had not the slightest suspicion that I was about to be deceived, but they never came to me until it was too late—I had not the slightest confidence in the evidence of the foreigner.
COURT to HENRY JOSEPH KING. Q. Did you have any communication with Mr. Barter about writing for these men? A. It was named to him in the Inquest room, and several of the Jury suggested that inquiry should be made at the hands of the police—as the Inquest was held on the Tuesday, a letter was written on the Thursday, and we got an answer on the saturday, and on that same day we were before the Magistrate, at the Southwark police court—Mr. Barter was present, and I told him that the superintendent had received an answer to the letter he had written to Glasgow, stating that two of the men, Joseph Green and James Cattarn, had joined the Joseph Cunard, and were about to sail on Thursday—Mr. Barter never named to me that the superintendent would let him know whether the police would send for the men or not—I said I had evidence to produce before the Magistrate, and very possibly, if it was named to the Magistrate, the authorities of the Magistrate would send for those parties—I did not tell Mr. Barter that I would let him know whether the police were going to fetch the men or no—I knew Mr. Barter's address—I saw Mr. Barter at the police court on the Saturday, and I named that we had not received any answer then—the answer did not come to the station till after I went back from the Magistrate; that was at half past 4 o'clock, on Saturday afternoon—I saw Mr. Barter again on Monday, and I named to him that the superintendent had had an answer to a letter he had sent to Glasgow, which said that the two men had joined the Joseph Cunard, and would sail on Thursday—he then knew that I had got the steward as a witness before the Magistrate.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday, April 13th, 1855.
PRESENT—Sir GEORGE CARROLL, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. CUBITT.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Fifth Jury.
MESSRS. BODKIN and CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN REEVES . I am thirteen years old—I come from the Bridewell at Westminster—I am a convict there—I was convicted last May, at the Middlesex Sessions, and sentenced to two years' imprisonment, for picking a pocket—I had been in prison a dozen times before that for picking pockets—I know the prisoner—I first became acquainted with him about three years
ago—I knew he was a policeman—I first became acquainted with him in Dean-street, Soho, and I had been in the habit of occasionally seeing him till Christmas, 1853—I recollect the frost about Christmas, 1853—I went up to the Serpentine one day during that frost—I saw the prisoner that day—I met him in a public house in Pulteney-street, Soho—I do not recollect what day of the month it was—I had some conversation with him in that public house—he said he could take us to a place where we could get plenty of money, up at the Serpentine, on the bridge—I met him before 12 o'clock—after that we went with the prisoner up to the Serpentine—we went on the bridge—there was a young man, about twenty-one, with the prisoner when I spoke to him—I knew that young man—his name was Donovan—he went with us to the Serpentine—there was plenty of skating going on on the Serpentine—when we got there we met several other thieves, boys and men—some of the boys I had known before—the prisoner spoke to a man whom we met on the bridge—he was a man that goes about with the boys, picking pockets—I forget his name; I know him; he is in prison now—when we were on the bridge there were persons skating below on the ice, and a great number of persons on the bridge looking at them—the prisoner pointed to a lady, and told me to come over to her—the lady was looking over the bridge at the persons skating—I went over to her, and picked her pocket—the prisoner was standing close behind me at the time I did it—I took from the lady's pocket a purse, and gave it to the prisoner, and then the prisoner, and Donovan, and I walked up towards the park—as we went up higher in the park, the prisoner took the money out of the purse, and showed it to me, and put the purse into a hole in a tree—we went towards the Bayswater-road—the tree is not above thirty yards from the bridge—there is a guard-house close by, where the soldiers are—when the prisoner showed me the money, I saw how much there was—there was a half sovereign, and six shillings, and a sixpence—when we went into the park, we went in at a large gate in Park-lane—we went straight across to the Serpentine, and then turned and went on the bridge—we went on the right hand side of the river—we went from Pulteney-street, and in at the gate nearest to the Statue, and straight across the park to the Serpentine, and then went by the side of the water—we went to the Humane Society's house, and on the bridge.
Q. What was done with the money, after you saw it? A. King gave it to Donovan to mind—it was afterwards parted amongst us—I and Donovan and King were present when it was divided, in a coffee shop, in Sloane-street, Chelsea—I do not recollect how much each of us got—it was divided equally—after King had placed the purse in the tree, we went over to the bridge—we went underneath the bridge afterwards—we went to the top of the bridge before we went underneath—before we went under the bridge the prisoner said we could get nothing there, for the people were all fancying they would get their pockets picked, because there was such a lot of thieves about them—he said it was no use to go there, the people were too sharp—we then went under the bridge, because there were plenty of people walking through there as well—while we were underneath the bridge I picked a lady's pocket of some loose silver—I and Donovan King were under the bridge—in the course of that afternoon another got taken up for picking pockets, at the side of the water, in my sight was not close by; I could see it—it was about thirty yards from the bridge—I do not know who it was that took that boy up—I saw King there at the time—the people ran across the ice, and King put his foot out,
and a man fell over his foot—I had known King for some time before that day—I have been to the Zoological Gardens with Donovan and King and Arundel, another young man, that used to pick pockets—I do not know when it was; it was after the frost, it was after this taking the purse—I have been to the Zoological Gardens twice or three times—I had been there once with King, and once with Donovan.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. You are thirteen years old? A. Yes—I do not know how many years it is ago since I was first taken into custody—I do not know how long it is ago since I was first put in prison—I think it is about three or four years ago—I was first taken up for stealing bread, in Newport-market—I was in prison seven days for that—I do not know how long it was after I came out before I was taken again; it was more than a week—I do not know what that was for—I know it was not for picking pockets—it was for stealing something out of a shop; I do not know what it was—I was not a pickpocket then, I only used to steal things out of shops—I do not know what kind of shop it was from which I stole something on that occasion—I do not know whether it was a draper's, or a jeweller's, or a bootmaker's—on my oath I do not remember what kind of shop it was from which I stole something—I was not committed for trial—I do not know whether I was in prison seven days or three days—I do not know how long it was after I came out on that second occasion before I was taken again—it was more than a week; I do not know how long it was—I was then living with my mother, in Church-lane, St. Giles's—after I came out of prison the second time, I was taken into custody a third time, f or stealing a bundle of cigars—I was not committed for trial on that occasion; I got three days, and a whipping—I do not recollect how long it was after I came out before I was taken again—it was not for picking pockets—I do not know what it was for; I think it was for stealing from a shop—I do not know what shop it was, nor what I took from it—I was not tried by a jury on that charge—I do not know what office I was taken to on the first occasion—it was at Marlborough-street that I had three days and was whipped—I think the next time was at Bow-street—I cannot recollect for what offence I was first taken there—on the fourth occasion I was taken to Bow-street—I cannot recollect what for—sometimes I was taken with other boys—Donovan was not one—I did not know him then—I have known Arundel about three years—Arundel and Donovan were not with me on the fourth occasion—I forget whether I was tried, or whether the Magistrate disposed of that case also—I do not recollect how long I was in prison; they can tell you better at the prison than I can—I do not recollect how long I was out before I was put into prison again—they can tell you at the prison; I do not recollect—I do not know what length of time elapsed before I was taken into custody again—they can tell you better at the prison than I can—I never thought how long it was—I do not remember on what charge I was taken on that occasion, or how long I was in prison—I remember being once taken for some bacon—I was not in gaol a dozen times before I picked a pocket—I dare say I have been in gaol a dozen times—I dare say I was in gaol six times before I picked a pocket—I do not know how long it was after the first time I was in gaol before I picked a pocket—I never took any notice to think how long—it was about nine months from the time I was first put in prison till I first picked a pocket—on the first occasion when I picked a pocket I was not taken up—I cannot say whether I was caught the second time I picked a pocket—I picked pockets a good many times before I was caught—Donovan and
Arundel were my companions—Donovan was most with me—he was with me sometimes, and sometimes the two were—I cannot tell how many times I picked a pocket before I was taken—Donovan and I went shares in the picking pockets—I do not know the name of the officer who first took me on a charge of picking pockets—I was taken to Bow-street—I should know the officer who first took me if I were to see him; he had No. 11 on him—I got let off on that first occasion—I do not know how soon I picked a pocket again; about a week after—it was not the same officer who took me again—I got three months once for picking pockets—I do not know whether that was the next time to the one when I was let off—as soon as I got off on each occasion, or got out of prison, I went on picking pockets again, Donovan helping me—Arundel did not always help me; he did sometimes—King never took me into custody.
Q. Did not this man take you on a charge of picking pockets, another policeman being with him? A. Not as I know of.
Q. Will you swear you were not taken by a police officer for picking pockets, and that King did not immediately come up while you were being taken to the station? A. I do not know whether King was present; but I know if he was present at the time he would try to get me off—on what occasion was it; I will not swear that King was not there; I will swear he never gave evidence against me—I have never been tried in either of the courts in this building—I have not been in prison twenty or thirty times—I will swear I have not been twenty times, or else the officers would know it—I do not think I have been in prison twenty times—I would not swear it—Mr. Baker keeps the public house in Pulteney-street—I did not notice Mr. Baker in the public house when I went in—I know him, and he has seen me there—I have been in the habit of frequenting that house since then—I was never there before—when I went to that public house King was there first with some women—I believe it was on ft Saturday—it was a day or so after Christmas—I knew one of the women that was in the public house with King—her name is Baker—I knew her by name before that occasion, and knew she was a thief—I have seen her frequently since—the last time I saw her was at the time I got my two years—she was in prison—King was talking to that woman, Baker, at the public house—I did not go alone to that public house, Donovan went with me—I left Baker at the public house, when I and Donovan, and King, went to the park—Donovan and King and I had something to drink—the woman did not have anything with us—she was with other persons—I knew the woman before, and knew her to be a thief—I used to call her Poll Baker—I did not speak to her in the house.
COURT. Q. Did you know Poll Baker before that day? A. I knew that she was a thief—I did not know her by the name of Poll Baker before that day.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. You said you knew her by the name of Poll Baker? A. Yes, afterwards; but not before that day—that is what I have always heard her called since—we staid about a quarter of an hour in that house after I and Donovan went in—I and King and Donovan had something to drink—a young lady was serving behind the bar—I was never there before—I have been there since, and there were two young girls serving behind the bar—on that day there might have been two, but I did not notice them—I did not notice the landlord or the landlady—I do not know what the bar maid was called—I do not know the name of either—in going over the bridge, before I picked the lady's pocket, I mot several thieves, boys and
men—I know some of them—one was a red headed boy, I forget his name; his father and mother live in Nottingham-court—I have not been out with that boy on thieving expeditions—I have given that boy's name since I was examined, but I cannot think of it now—I gave the name of some others to the same gentleman—Murray was one man, and Matthews was the red haired boy—I knew those boys and men to be thieves—I did not count how many there were altogether—there were several others—I have given the names of others to the gentleman who examined me—Smith was one—I met two or three of them together—King was close to me at the time I met these men and boys—King used to walk before me sometimes, and sometimes behind—I cannot say whether he was always alongside or not, or whether he was betwixt me and Donovan—King spoke to one man who was a thief—I had often seen that thief before, and I have seen him since—I have given a description of that man to the gentleman in prison—I believe I gave his name to that gentleman—I had seen that man that King spoke to, a couple of days before I got into prison—I have had conversation with that man regarding this robbery in the park—I have just told you his name before—Murray his name was—I do not know how soon after the day I was upon the bridge I talked to him about this matter—I do not think I spoke to him for three months after—he knew what Donovan and King and I were doing—he was doing the same himself—the lady whose pocket I picked was on the bridge looking over—it was when we first came there that Murray spoke to King—Donovan was close by at the time that King and Murray spoke—I and Donovan were standing together—it was before the pocket was picked that King spoke to Murray—I do not think he spoke to him afterwards—it was not in my sight—I kept with King till the money was divided, but there were crowds of people on the bridge—I did not notice any policeman on duty in uniform—I noticed the soldiers—I do not think I saw a policeman in uniform on the bridge—I did not see any policeman in plain clothes on the bridge, only King himself—while we were walking across the park, and before we got to the bridge, I do not remember that we met any policeman, either in plain clothes or in uniform—I do not think we did—we walked on the Bays water side, amongst the people.
Q. Do you remember whether you met any policeman in plain clothes or in uniform? A. There were several policemen there, but not on the bridge—by the side of the Serpentine there were policemen about—they were not officers whom I had known previously; I did not know anything of them—I did not know any of them by sight—I did not know the officer who took the boy into custody—he was a strange boy—it was not a policeman who took hold of him—there was a policeman there; I did not know him by sight.
MR. BODKIN. Q. As early as you can recollect, were you living in Church-street, St. Giles's? A. Yes—I have no father; I have a mother, who is a dress maker—I was never taught to read, or to write, or anything—when I got out of prison, after these short imprisonments, I had no means of getting my living—when I was taken for what I am now suffering, it was for picking a lady's pocket on Hay-hill, Berkeley-square—it was a police sergeant who took me, No. 2C—I had not seen King the day I committed that robbery—I was with him the day before, in the next street to it—I do not know whether King was near Hay-hill the day I committed that robbery; I had not seen him that day.
BENJAMIN SIMS . I am park keeper in Kensington-gardens, and have been so three or four years. I recollect the frost at the end of 1853—there were many persons skating on the Serpentine during the frost—on one
afternoon I saw some persons near the bridge, over the Serpentine; I do not know what day it was—it was the end of 1853, or the beginning of 1854—I recollect one afternoon, while the skating was going on, seeing some persons do something—there was something about them that attracted my attention—there were five of them together—I saw them standing by a tree, about thirty yards from the Serpentine bridge—I saw them dividing something—I saw a policeman, Kemp, in the gardens, and I called his attention to it—he was in plain clothes—when the persons saw me and Kemp looking towards them, they left the tree, and divided in different directions—I went there, and picked up a purse in a hole in the trunk of the tree, near the root—I took that purse home with me—there was no money in it—I kept that purse till Jan. this year; and one day in Jan., sergeants Jackson and Denning came to me, and I gave sergeant Jackson the purse—I had seen Denning in the park about two or three days after the purse was concealed—I mentioned to him what I had seen done, and how I found the purse.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you tell me the time of day it was? A. I think between two and three o'clock—I cannot exactly tell.
COURT. Q. Do you know what policeman it was whose attention you called to it at the time? A. I know him by seeing him on duty in the park—I do not know his name.
ELEAZER DENNING (policeman, A 38). I remember, during the frost of 1853, and the beginning of 1854, being in Kensington-gardens one day during that frost—I had some conversation with Mr. Sims—I did not know his name at that time—on that occasion he showed me a purse, and told me where he got it—after some inquiries had began to be made this year, with regard to the statements of the boy Reeves, I was in Hyde-park, and saw sergeant Jackson, who was apparently searching for something—I communicated to him what I had heard from the witness Sims, in the previous year; and he accompanied me to the house of Sims, who produced this purse, and gave it to sergeant Jackson.
CHARLES JACKSON (police-sergeant, A 5). After the statement made this year by Reeves, I went on 8th Jan. to search in Hyde-park for a purse—while I was searching, the last witness communicated to me what he had heard from the park keeper, Sims—I went to the park keeper's house, and he gave me this purse.
THOMAS HUBBERSLEY (police-sergeant, A 7). I have been ten years in the police force—I recollect the frost that took place at the end of 1853—I was on duty on Saturday, 31st Dec. that year, in Hyde-park—there were persons skating on the ice—I saw the prisoner near the Serpentine that day—I met him between the receiving house and the bridge—I spoke to him—he was in plain clothes—I believe the words I said to him were, "Well, King, are you going to look at the skaters?" or, "Are you looking at the skaters?"—he was then on the gravel path, next to the water—at the time he stopped to speak to me, I observed some boys in the road—I suppose they were ten or twelve yards from him—he was in the path, and they were in the road—they were a little in advance of him, I should think about two or three yards—at the time King spoke to me he stopped, and the boys made a sort of halt—they stopped also—they were turning round as if listening to the prisoner and myself—they looked half round as it were—after King had spoken to me he moved on towards the bridge—I believe the boys went also—I did not watch them afterwards—they were common
looking boys; I did not notice them particularly—they were of different sizes—I believe this was between half past 2 and 3 o'clock.
BERNARD SHANLEY (policeman, C 76). I was in Hyde-park on 31st Dec, 1853, during the frost—I do not know what day of the week it was—I was there by accident—I was in uniform—I passed under the bridge—I heard of a boy being taken into custody for picking pockets under the bridge—he was taken by some man in the first instance—I knew the prisoner at that time—I saw him there—I dare say he was about two yards from the boy who was taken up—the prisoner spoke to me at the time—he asked me what the boy was taken for; I told him I thought for picking a lady's pocket—I asked him if he knew the boy—he made no reply but walked away—he was in plain clothes.
Cross-examined. Q. What o'clock was this? A. About a quarter past 3—I do not know the boy's name who was taken—I am not sure who the officer was who took him, I think it was A 186—there is nothing uncommon if an officer sees a person taken, to ask another officer what he is taken for—I have known King about two years, or a little more—I have not been in the force so long as he has—I never heard a whisper against his character up to the time this charge was made against him.
COURT. Q. It was a civilian who took the boy first? A. I understood it was a private individual—a policeman came up in about four minutes afterwards—the other policeman was coming up at the same time I was, and King came up and asked me this question—a gentleman called my attention first to the boy being taken—I dare say I was about 100 yards off—I went up as fast as I could, and seeing the man who was on duty coming up, I did not interfere—the boy was not taken under the bridge, I dare say he was about fifty yards from it—I first saw King where the boy was apprehended by the private individual—I cannot say whether King was standing there, or whether he followed me—he came up to me—I did not see in what direction he came—I came from the bridge.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. How is it you fix this day as the 31st Dec.? A. I recollect the charge being taken at our station—I was not on duty—I do not know the name of the officer whose beat that was—I do not know how many policemen were usually on duty at that time of the year.
COURT. Q. You said you were within two or three yards of the boy when King came to you? A. Yes—I did not see King at all before he spoke to me—my attention was first drawn to him when he was face to face to me, and spoke with me.
WILLIAM GODFREY (police sergeant, P 14). The prisoner was in the C division in 1853—I was a sergeant in that division—the prisoner was frequently employed in plain clothes—it was not always my duty to direct the constables in plain clothes as to what duty they were to perform in the course of the day—if I did not, some one else did, and the constable was to report the same day, or the following morning, what he had done and where he had been—this is the book in which I recorded the proceedings (producing it)—on 31st Dec. I directed him to make inquiries respecting a robbery in Piccadilly, and also a robbery in Gerrard-street, till 6 o'clock in the evening—the next morning the constable would tell me what he had been doing, and I put it in here—I gave him no particular directions, only to make those inquiries—on 1st Jan. I find the entry of the report I made: "Making inquiries respecting robberies in Piccadilly and Gerrard-street, till 6 o'clock, and then patrolling some streets from. 7 till 9.
Q. If he had been in the course of that afternoon near the Serpentine-bridge, would it have been his duty to communicate that fact? A. No; not whether he had been there or at any other place respecting a robbery—he may commence in the morning making inquiries, and his inquiries may last across four or five hours—if he had been employed as a police constable in Hyde-park he should have reported it to me, certainly.
Cross-examined. Q. If he had been ordered to go to Hyde-park, or to any particular place, to do duty there, it would have been his duty to report it the next morning? A. Yes; but if he had been desired to make inquiries respecting a robbery in Piccadilly, it would not have been his duty to tell every street or place he went to—the report he made, and which I entered, was such a report as I was satisfied with—I was satisfied that he had made inquiries—it was no part of his duty to tell me of whom he made this inquiry, or where he made it.
COURT. Q. Would a detective policeman under such circumstances have any part of the day to himself? A. If circumstances transpired to keep him out the whole of the day, it would be his duty to attend to them—he reported that he was there till 6 o'clock in the evening, and then the next hour would be for him to get his refreshment.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Had you ever heard any imputation against him till this charge was made? A. No; he has always given satisfaction to me.
JAMES ABRAHAM (policeman, S 296). In the spring of last year I was on duty in plain clothes in the Zoological Gardens—it was one day in March, the 16th, 24th, or the 30th; it was either Tuesday, Wednesday, or Friday—I saw the prisoner twice that day—I saw him there at the time I went in, and I saw him again, and he had two lads with him; Reeves was one—I should know the other boy if I saw him—the prisoner spoke to them—the boys were giving the monkeys buns in the monkey house—King said did the monkeys like buns, and he said one would eat as much tobacco as the other would buns—the prisoner said he had got two friends with him—I knew the prisoner at that time—I afterwards saw the prisoner in the elephant house, and the same two boys were a short distance before him—in two or three days afterwards, I saw them all three together in Bayhamterrace, Camden-town, near the Mother Red Cap—the prisoner and the same two boys were then going towards London—I did not know Reeves at that time.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not know who either of the boys were? A. No—King had not his wife and family along with him—there was no female at all with him—that was in March, but I cannot tell what time—the first place I saw King was on the terrace, and I did not see the boys with him then; he was alone—when I next saw him, he was in the monkey house, and talking to those two boys—I did not know who Reeves was till Feb. in this year; that was after King had been taken on the charge on which he is now tried—I was not shown Reeves at all—he was in Bow-street, in a place where there were about fifty other boys—I was told to go and see if there was any one I knew, and I said, "That is the boy I saw with King at the Zoological Gardens"—when I saw the boys with King, they were both dressed very respectably—I do not know King's family; I believe he is married, and has a family—I do not know where he lived—he told me the boys were two friends—I should know the other boy if I saw him—I have not seen the boy Donovan.
MR. BODKIN Q. How soon after this affair, in the Zoological Gardens, did you see King and the two boys again in Bayam-terrace? A. It might be
about a week—I recognized the boy Reeves, and I saw him on one or two occasions afterwards, and when this matter was under inquiry at Bow-street I was sent into a room where there were twenty of them, and I recognized Reeves at once.
EDWARD LANGLEY (police sergeant, A 25). I took the prisoner into custody on 3rd Jan.; he lodged at No. 56, King-street, Soho—he kept a coffee shop—he had left the police—I took him to Scotland-yard, according to my instructions—the next day I had to take him to Bow-street station, opposite the police court—the charges that he was in custody for, were read to him, and this was one of the charges that was inquired about—I was about taking him across to the Magistrate's Court, and when we got outside the station he made a sudden start right away from me—I pursued him nearly half a mile, crying, "Stop thief!" and doing everything I could; at last somebody stopped him, and he was secured and brought back.
(Mr. Bishop, of Bond-street, gave the prisoner a good character.)
GUILTY . Aged 32.— Transported for Fourteen Years.
(There were four other similar indictments against the prisoner.)
THIRD COURT.—Friday, April 13th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant and the Seventh Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY .
(MR. BODKIN, for the Prosecution, stated that this was the second prosecution for this libel; that the former person pleaded Guilty, undertaking to give up the name of the person by whom he was employed, and gave the name of the present defendant, who stated that he was only a middle person between the two, and was prepared to give up the name of the other.)— Judgment Respited.
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH REEVES . I am a labourer, in the employ of Richard Hall, of Kingsbury, Middlesex. A person named Tomkins has a field adjoining his, and next to that is a field belonging to a person named Bolton—there is a gap in the fence, which separates Bolton's field from Mr. Hall's—Mr. Tomkins has been aware of that—I have impounded the sheep on other occasions, and on 18th March I found them in the field, and proceeded to impound them—I drove them along Bacon's-lane, to the pound—when I came to a turning near the Green Man beer shop, Tomkins came up from the beer shop, and stopped the sheep—there were eighteen of them—the prisoner, and Richard and William Miller, came from the beer shop about ten minutes after Tomkins—Tomkins ran before the sheep and stopped them—he then laid hold of my collar—about ten minutes afterwards he let go of my collar, ran before the sheep, and turned them back, as I was striving to drive them into the pound—in a few minutes he catched me again by the collar, and struck me on the back of my neck five times—the prisoner was present then—as I was getting up Tomkins kicked me on the loins—I never
spoke—Tomkins did not offer me 10s., or any other sum—the prisoner was in such a position that he must have seen when Tomkins struck me in the neck, and when I was knocked down he took the sheep from me, and took them back to his fold—I got a summons next day for pound breach and assault, which came on before the Magistrate on 4th April—I was examined, and so was Mrs. Richardson and the two Millers.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. You seem a very mild man; you did not complain at all while he was kicking and beating you? A. No; I never uttered a word—I did not like being kicked—the dog did not take back the sheep—Tomkins did that—the dog helped him.
EMMA RICHARDSON . I keep the Green Man beer shop, at Kingsbury. Tomkins lodged at my place—on Sunday, 18th March, he was at my house, dining with me—some sheep went past the end of the road—he got up, and said, "There go my sheep," and went out to look after them—after he went out, Richard Miller came and ordered some ale for his master—Windsor and William Miller were at the door when I got up—Windsor was at the step of the door—I did not see him in the house—I saw them all three go off the step of the door, and then I looked through the parlour window, and saw them going up the road.
COURT. Q. Did you see them in the house? A. No; I saw them come off the step of the door—I was fetched in a hurry to Edgeware—my servant waited on them; I did not.
NOT GUILTY .
(MR. ROBINSON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.)
(MR. ROBINSON, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.)
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
ANN WHITE . I know the prisoner. In April, 1851, I kept a linendraper's shop, in Limehouse-causeway—the prisoner came and asked for a halfpenny-worth of pins, and a few days afterwards she came again for some frivolous thing—it rained, and I asked her to come into the parlour—she then told me that she was an independent person, the Countess de Clifford, and that she was to come into possession of 1,400l. in July—she asked me if I would lend her a shilling, as she was very badly off; I did so; and in a week or a fortnight I lent her 2s. 6d.; she said she would pay me when she received the 1,400l.—I afterwards lent her 5s. and 10s. at a time, till it amounted to 6l. and some odd pence—I lent her all this money because she appeared so lady-like in her manners, and being a widow, like myself, I thought she would not impose upon me—the last time I saw her was on 21st July—she was to have received the 1,400l. on the 14th.—she said that she went up on the 14th, but it was not payable till the 21st, when she was to go and receive it—she came to me on the 21st, at half-past 1 o'clock, and said that the money was not payable for another fortnight; that she had been in Court all day, and was very much fatigued, and would I lend her 10s.; and of course I lent it to her—I gave her some refreshment, and she said she would return at 9 o'clock in the evening—I never saw her again until she was in custody at the Greenwich Court last Wednesday week—it was at the Vice-Chancellor's Court that she said she was to receive the money.
COURT. Q. Did she say that she was going to have the money, or that
she had got it? A. That she was to receive it on 14th July, as her uncle had died in France; not that she was going to have it when he died—I let her have the money, believing that what she said was true.
Prisoner. My mother was Lady de Clifford, but I have been wronged out of the property; the little generous acts she did me were done in kindness, and not under any promise of repayment.
(MR. METCALFE stated that there was no evidence from the Vice-Chancellor's Court to negative the prisoners statements.)
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. SLEIGH And LAWRENCE conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY . Aged 18.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor and Jury.— Judgment Respited.
MESSRS. ROBINSON And RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY FOWKES . I am a butcher, of Hammersmith. On 19th March I bought a number of sheep—I saw them that afternoon in a field at Brook Green, Hammersmith—there were four marks on them: a "T" on the face, extending from the forehead down to the nose; a red dot of paint between the ears; a slight red paint mark, older done, on the back, towards the hip; and an "H" on the back—there were thirty-one of them, including the leader sheep, which I had had twelve months, or a little more; it was tame, and when sheep came home from market, it used to run in first and they followed instantly—it was about half the size of the other sheep—on that Monday I saw the leader driven into the field, they were all there together—there was a private mark on the leader—I had bought it for a gentleman a few months back—we castrated it ourselves; and not being a usual performance with us, it took longer to heal; we had to dress the parts affected, and they had just got well—I live about a quarter of a mile from the field—on Thursday morning, about half past 9, my lad gave me information, and I went and found only eleven sheep left—I did not know Paulin, but I know now where his butcher's shop is—I went there on Saturday, from something that I heard, and saw three carcass of sheep resembling mine, and some joints of mutton of the same quality—I have killed some of the same sheep—a pair of hind quarters of the leader were hung close behind, hidden—I have them in court (produced)—here are the strings of the parts, which we cut across with a pair of tweezers, and I can undertake to say that this is part of the carcase of the leader—on the same day I went to Mr. Wighton's shop, and saw four carcases of sheep, throe in front, and one hanging in the row; and I said to myself, that is one of my sheep—I had no notion of finding any of my sheep there—on the following Tuesday I went to Mr. Corderoy's, in Long-lane, Bermondsey, and saw this sheep's skin (produced)—here is a red dot on this skin between the ears; it was on four out of the nineteen—this "T" is my own mark; that was on the whole twenty—this skin has been limed and washed, which has effaced the marks very much—here is the red paint on the hip—I did not look at the other skins; there were seven; but I was told that if I found any of mine, it
would be enough—the value of the twenty sheep was between 45l. and 50l.
Cross-examined by MR. TALFOURD SALTER. Q. How many marks did you make on the sheep? A. Two—they were made by a boy, but I saw him do it, as soon as the bargain was struck in the markets—I found the other two marks on them—I have only one skin here with this mark—I had only seen the sheep when they came home; I saw the whole thirty-one then—I never saw them again after Monday—it is not usual for one butcher in 500 to keep a leader—I keep this to run across the road, so that the sheep should not be run over by the omnibuses—it is not usual for sheep to be castrated by butchers, but it is by professional people—Paulin was given into custody when I went to his shop—his shop is about fifty yards from the other shop where I saw the sheep hanging—I did not go into the shop and speak about it; I sent on the young man who had just left me—I have only one skin here, but could have brought more if necessary.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. How soon did you kill the other sheep? A. Not till Thursday, the 11th—I saw them before they were killed, and saw them brought into the shop immediately afterwards, but was not present when they were killed—I bought them all of Mr. Cyder—here is sufficient on this skin to satisfy me; here is the "T," and three parts of the "H," remaining.
EDWARD WIGGINS . I am a toll collector. On Tuesday evening, 20th March, at half past 7 or a quarter to 8 o'clock, I left Hammersmith-gate, and went towards London—when I was near Kensington-gate, I saw a flock of sheep going towards London—I counted them; there were twenty—two men were driving them—the prisoner resembles one of them very much—the other was a taller, slimmer man.
THOMAS ATKINSON . I am a fishmonger, of Mary-le-bonne-lane. I know Paulin—he lives next door to me—it is a middling sized shop—there is only a partition between his house and mine, and it appears as if it had been one, but not to my recollection—I was at home on Tuesday, 20th March, about 9 o'clock, and saw some sheep come to Paulin's place—I did not count them—when I first saw them they were being driven into the shop—Paulin was assisting a taller man than himself and thinner, to drive them in—after the sheep had gone in, I saw M'Leach in the shop—I cannot say whether any of them had gone in before I saw them—I went to bed about half past 1 o'clock—I keep a fried fish shop, which keeps me up late—when I got up stairs I thought somebody was getting into the shop—I went down and ran into Paulin's shop, and saw Paulin and a stranger, who, I think, was the tall thin man, and a young man, named Kemp, killing some sheep—I have seen Paulin killing sheep at all times.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. There was nothing unusual about it? A. I did not think so at the time—Paulin assisted in getting the sheep in—I cannot say whether he was in the shop when the sheep came up—the killing at that hour did not strike me as anything unusual—when I found that that was the cause of the noise I went to bed—Paulin has carried on the business of a butcher there ever since I have been there.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. How long have you lived next door? A. Three years and a half—I have known M'Leach as servant to Paulin.
COURT. Q. Did Paulin come out to meet the sheep, or go in with them? A. I think he came out to meet them.
GEORGE BROOKS . I am in the service of Mr. Ragg, of Mary le-bonne-lane. In March, on the evening before the Fast day, I saw some sheep go into Paulin's shop—our shop is five doors off his—I saw the sheep run down the
corner of William-street, from the corner of Mr. Paulin's shop, and saw him standing at the side of the trap door, where they put the sheep down, but I never saw them put any down before—they put nine or ten sheep down—M'Leach came in with a handkerchief round the dog's neck, as they were putting the last sheep down—he took the handkerchief off the dog's neck, and I followed him to Mary-le-bonne-street—he said, "We have got twenty-four sheep."
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Had you known M'Geach before? A. Yes, I knew him to be in the service of Mr. Paulin.
JAMES KEMP . I live at No. 27, Thomas-street, Oxford-street. On Tuesday evening, before the Fast day, I was in the Sawyer's Arms, Maryle-bonne-lane—Paulin came to me, and asked me what I had got to drink—I told him I had got a little in my glass, and he said, "Drink it up, and we will have a little more"—I had half a quartern more, which he paid for, and asked me if I would come and assist him in killing some sheep—I went with him to his premises, and found a strange, tall, thin man, a couple or three inches taller than myself, besides Paulin—we all three of us set to work and killed; we finished about 5 o'clock in the morning—it began at 10 or 11 o'clock—there was hardly any conversation during the time I was there—I only heard the tall man say that he was tired.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. You had enough to do without talking? A. I had—I am accustomed to that work, and do it in the usual way—I had never killed for him before, but I knew Him very well.
HENRY FLETCHER . I am a butcher of No. 7, Thomas-street, Oxford-street. In consequence of something that I heard, I went to Paulin's, on 21st March—on the Fast-day, or the day before, I bought twenty sheep's heads and ten plucks from him—they seemed to have been recently killed, and on the following Friday I purchased the carcase of a sheep.
Cross-examined by MR. SALTER. Q. What are plucks? A. The liver and heart—I have bought twenty sheep's heads of him before, all in one lot—there was nothing in this which struck my attention.
FREDERICK WILLIAM LETTON . I am foreman to Thomas Morell Smith, of the firm of Leach and Co., tallow-chandlers, No. 18, South Moulton-street. On Thursday, 23rd March, M'Leach and a tall man brought forty-six pounds odd, of fat; it was mixed, but the greater part was mutton fat—in my judgment, it had come from about twenty sheep—we have never received so much fat from Paulin before—it was in a dirty, slovenly state, and had a great deal of the gut and dung with it, indicating that it had been killed in a very hurried manner—I told Mr. Leach that it was a very slovenly way to bring it; that it had been in a sack twenty-four hours, and asked him why he did not bring it on Tuesday night—he said that it was not killed then—I said, "Do not tell me that; it has been killed twenty-four hours by the smell of it;" he said, "It was only killed last night"—I said, "Do you work on the Fast-day, then?" and in two or three minutes, when the sack was turned out, I smelt a much stronger smell, and said, "I am very much disposed not to take this fat at all, and if I did not know your master, I should think he stole the sheep;" I did not think he had stolen them—I paid for the fat, and they went away.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. Had you dealt with Paulin formerly? A. Yes, and had no suspicion of him—M'Leach did not say that he came from Paulin, but I knew the horse and cart—we have not bought so large a quantity before; we have averaged twenty-five stone in a week, but this week it was sixty stone—for twelve weeks, it was twenty-five stone a week.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You knew that M'Leach was in the service of Paulin? A. Yes, he had been several times with fat.
THOMAS WIGHTON . I am a butcher of No. 23, Mary-le-bonne-lane. I know the prisoners—Paulin keeps a butcher's shop in the same lane—on the Saturday after the Fast-day, I bought three carcases of mutton of Paulin—I had seen ten or twelve carcases in his shop on Friday afternoon, and asked him what he would take for them; he wanted 4s. 4d. a stone, and on Saturday I went to him—he took 4s. a stone, and I bought three carcases—M'Leach brought one or two, I cannot say which, as I was busy on Saturday morning, and I hung them up.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. What did you do with them? A. They were hanging up when the inspector saw them—I always considered Paulin to be an honourable man.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. At what time were they brought? A. At 11 o'clock in the morning—I have not bought carcases of the prisoner before, but I have bought a joint of him.
GEORGE MUNDAY . I live at No. 40, York-street, Manchester-square. In consequence of a message left at my mistress's house on the Fast-day, I went to Paulin's house next morning at 7 o'clock, and saw a heap of skins lying on the pavement before his door—in pursuance of directions I had received, I put them into my cart, and took them to Mr. Williams, of Newgate-market, and left them there in the name of Paulin; that was in consequence of what my mistress told me.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. You left them there by Mr. Paulin's own directions? A. Yes, in consequence of a message.
EDWARD HEDGES . I live at Mr. Williams's, of Warwick-lane, and am a butcher in his employment. On Thursday morning, Munday brought me twenty skins; I counted them after he left the shop—I saw him on the following day, and asked him what name the skins came in; he said, "Paulin, of Mary-le-bonne-lane"—on the same day, Mr. Strong took the skins away—I did not observe the marks on them—there was one smaller than the rest.
WILLIAM STRONG . I am a skin dealer, of Bermondsey skin-market On 22nd March, I went to Mr. Williams, and my man took twenty skins away in my presence—they were taken back to the market, and sold in the usual way, to Mr. Corderoy—I did not observe the marks, but one skin was half the size of the rest, and was booked at 3s., and the others at about 6s.; they were sold with other skins at 7s. 3d., but I consider the value of the nineteen to be 6s. each, and the small one 3s.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. You have a great number of skins passing through your hands? A. Yes—I cannot say anything about the marks on this skin—I frequently have skins with marks of this general character.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Is that about the same size and description of skin? A. Yes.
JOHN CORDEROY . I am a fellmonger, of Bermondsey. I bought some skins of Mr. Strong; I think it was last Saturday three weeks—on the Tuesday following, Mr. Fowkes came to my premises, and picked out a skin—I cannot say whether that was one of the skins which I had bought of Mr. Strong, because I had bought of two other salesmen, and they were all mixed together, but Mr. Strong's were among them—I afterwards examined some skins, and found two others marked just like this—they had been limed and washed then.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. How many did you receive from Mr. Strong? A. From 400 to 500, which were afterwards mixed with two other lots—I only picked out two—I have had other skins in my possession with the same mark—I bought some last Saturday, I was walking along and saw nearly 100 marked like these.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. What was the mark? A. Red paint on the rump and the forehead; there appeared to be a stroke or two of a letter on them; I could not tell whether it was "H" or "T;" I only looked at the paint—by similarly marked, I mean all marked in the same place, and with the same paint; I have a piece of skin here (produced), which I pulled out of the rump of one of them—it is not an unusual thing to mark sheep on the face and rump—different people use different letters, and some mark with pitch and tar; they generally mark with the letters that stand for their name.
MR. T. SALTER Q. If the carcase of a sheep has been taken away, is it not almost impossible, after the skin has been bent about, to determine what the letter is? A. If you smooth it down you can—I should consider that this is an "H" on this skin—I think that the skins which were hanging up were more plainly marked than this.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. What skins are you speaking of as hanging up; you did not notice any particular mark on them? A. The paint took my attention—having examined this skin, I think the mark is an "H"—I have had some little experience in these matters, but the person who marked it would know better.
THOMAS KNIGHT (policeman). From information I received, I went to Paulin's shop, on 24th March, and told him that he was charged on suspicion of stealing twenty sheep from a field at Brook-green, Hammersmith; he said, "I am innocent"—I afterwards took M'Leach—I saw a pair of hind quarters at the shop, which Mr. Fowkes identified, these are them (produced)—M'Leach said that he knew nothing about it.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. These hind quarters were exposed for sale in the shop? A. They were hanging up behind some carcases in the shop.
SAMUEL RUMBALL (police-inspector). When M'Leach was brought to the station, I asked him where he brought the mutton from which he was carrying in Mary-le-bonne-lane that morning—he said, "I did not have any mutton"—I said, "You took some into a butcher's shop at the corner of Bentinck-street (Mr. Wighton's)"—he said, "Oh, yes, I took half a sheep"—I said, "Did not you take a whole one?"—he said, "No, I did not"—I had seen him that morning take a whole carcase of a sheep to Mr. Wighton's—I took Paulin's books, but found no entry of this transaction, nor of the sale of the fat—these are the books (produced).
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You said you asked M'Leach where he brought the mutton from; was not it, where he brought the sheep from? A. No, I said "mutton"—I swear that, to the best of my recollection—he was not in charge at that time; he had been brought to the station by Knight—he was not in custody when I questioned him—a man is not in custody till he is put in the dock and charged—I considered it my duty, most assuredly, to question him; but when persons are in custody, it is decidedly improper.
Cross-examined by MR. T. SALTER. Q. Do you tell me that you have looked through those books, and that there is no entry of sheep purchased? A. Not on that day—the greater part of the entries I cannot make out, but
I am prepared to swear that there is no such entry—it is not my business to reconcile that—I find no entry of meat purchased, only of meat sold.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Are there entries of fat sold? A. No—I did not consider that M'Leach was in custody, at the time I questioned him; I simply sent for him, because I wanted to see him—I have heard Judges say that it may very often be necessary to ask questions, in order to decide whether persons ought to be taken into custody or not—I put questions in order to guide myself; but as soon as the' charge is taken, and a person is in custody, I do not put questions.
(MR. LILLEY submitted that there was not sufficient evidence against M'Leach to call upon him for his defence; in which the COURT concurred.)
NOT GUILTY .
(Paulin received a good character.)
GUILTY on 2nd Count. Aged 39.— Confined Eighteen Months.
The following cases were disposed of in the Grand Jury Room, before
Russell Gurney, Esq.
GOLICKER— NOT GUILTY .
NETHERWOOD— GUILTY . Aged 68.— Confined Fourteen Days.
493. CHARLES WHEATLEY , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Henry Calvert on 6th March, at St. Mary Abbotts, Kensington, and stealing therein 1 bottle, value 4d., and 1/2 Ib. of sweetmeats, value 1s.; his goods.
GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Three Months.
HARRISON— GUILTY . Aged 24.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
NEWMAN— GUILTY . Aged 26.— Confined One Year.
GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.
GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
give me a lift, and he did—as we were passing through Ilford, I saw the prisoner with a gun—that was between three and four o'clock in the afternoon—he was carrying his gun in his hand—there was a man before him with another gun—when we came up to the prisoner, Aylett laughed at him; he said, "Halloo! are you a sportsman? you cannot shoot"—the prisoner made some answer I did not hear, and Aylett said, "You had better shoot us," and the prisoner held up his gun and shot—I saw the gun when it was pointed at me, and I felt something hit my eye—I found I was wounded in the eye—the prisoner assisted me to a surgeon, and I afterwards went to the London Hospital—I am still an out patient—I cannot see yet, except a little glimmer—as near as I can tell, the gun barrel was about forty yards from my eye.
Cross-examined by SLEIGH. Q. Did you hold your cap up? A. I did not, and I did not see Aylett do it—I had no cap on—Aylett had one—Aylett said to the prisoner, "You can't shoot," in a sort of joke—the cart was going on at the time.
JOHN AYLETT . I am a carter, at Romford. In the afternoon of 3rd Feb., I was going from London to Romford, and on the road I took up Bishop—I saw the prisoner with a gun in his hand, and just before him there was another man who had a gun—the other man said, "How do turnips go;" I said, "Half a crown a dozen"—I said to the prisoner, "You can't shoot;" he said, "I can shoot"—I said, "Shoot me," and be held his gun to his shoulder and fired—I did not hold a cap up, I was sitting down in the cart—we were both sitting down—I heard a report, and Bishop was wounded—he bled a great deal—he said, "Stop, Jack, I am shot"—and the blood trickled down his face.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
JESSE BETTS . I am foreman to Mr. Adams, a farmer, of West Ham. I know the prisoner—I missed some lead from the lining of a tank, in a loft over a shed, on my master's premises, fixed to the building—I went up at 10 o'clock, and saw the lead, and then told Mrs. Betts to keep watch, as I suspected the prisoner; and when I went home, at 1 o'clock, there was a great piece cut out—I had marked it with a "W" a few days before, and that part was gone—this is it (produced)—here are two marks which I had put on it—it is William Adams's property, and is worth 2s. 6d.—it corresponds with the lead in the cistern.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Is it a dry tank? A. Yes—it is in an open place—people have occasionally put their tools there for the last week or two—I have not missed more lead since the prisoner has been taken up—my master did not say, "I quite see now that it is not Burke that has done it."
SARAH ANN BETTS . I am the wife of the last witness. On Monday, 19th March, about 10 o'clock in the morning, I saw my husband mark the tank—I watched till a quarter to 7 in the evening—I saw the prisoner leave his work, in the home fields, about twenty minutes past 11 o'clock, cross the road through the bunching shed, and go into the loft close to the tank—I went into the wood house, and heard him jump out of the tank—he remained in the loft about ten minutes, and then went down to the bunching shed and did something with some rods—he then went to his work, having been absent from it twenty-three minutes—when I saw
the lead in the morning, it was left as it had been cut previously, and when I saw it at a quarter to 12 o'clock, after the prisoner had left, a square piece had been cut out—this is the piece; here is the mark that I saw my husband make on it—I found it in the loft, rolled up, and laid in some onion peeling and straw, near the door—it was about eight yards from the tank.
Cross-examined. Q. How did you get up above? A. By a staircase—there is only one way to get in—the roof is not open—a person up there could not see me where I was—there was nobody there while I was watching but the prisoner—I had my dinner, but did not go in doors; I kept watching.
MR. PAYNE. Q. Could you see the loft all over? A. Yes—the prisoner came before I had my dinner.
JAMES RICHARDSON . I live with Mr. Adams, at Plaistow. On 19th March, I went on watch, by Mr. Betts's direction, at a quarter past 1 o'clock—Mr. Betts had called me, about a quarter to 12 o'clock, and I went up into the loft and saw the tank—it had been fresh cut—I saw Mr's. Betts search the loft, and find this lead under some straw and onion peel—I had been watching before, but was attending to the cows, and left Mrs. Betts there—I kept on the watch till about 7 o'clock in the evening, when the prisoner came again, and ran up into the loft—no one else was there—I heard something drop, and the prisoner ran down the steps again—I told Mr. Betts, and he was detained—I then went up into the loft, and found the lead about two feet and a half from where I had found it.
Cross-examined. Q. Could anybody hide themselves in the loft? A. No, neither man nor boy.
WILLIAM SPEAREY (policeman, K 18). On the night in question, about 7 o'clock, the prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Betts—I told him that he was charged with stealing lead—he said, "They cannot swear that I done it, for nobody saw me"—going to the station, he said, "I went up there to get my leggings"—I went back, and examined the loft, but found no leggings—this piece of lead (produced) was given to me by Mr. Betts—I compared it with the cistern, and it fits exactly.
GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Two Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 16.— Confined Two Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. BODKIN And W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN NEWELL (policeman, R 340). On Wednesday, 21st Feb., I was on duty in High-street, Woolwich, about 8 o'clock in the evening—I saw the prisoners there walking together—I followed them into Hare-street—I saw Motz go into a pork butcher's shop, kept by Mr. Matthews—he was served, and came out, and I immediately went in and asked the boy what he had
purchased—a bad sixpence was given to me by John Pembury—I marked it, and showed it to him, and asked if he should know it again, and he said "Yes"—this is it—I came out and saw the prisoners again, walking up the same street—I lost sight of them for a short time—I saw them again under a gateway in Powis-street—they appeared to be looking at something in their hands—they came from the gateway, and I saw Motz go into Mr. Hills', a pork butcher's, in Richard-street—he was there detained by Mr. Hill—I went after Carroll round the corner, and I saw him coming from the gateway the second time—I took him into custody—I told him he was charged with being in company with another in passing a counterfeit sixpence—he said he had done nothing of the kind, and had not been with any one—I gave him into the custody of two persons, and I went and took Motz, who was going down the street—I told him he was charged with passing a bad sixpence—he denied it, and denied all knowledge of the other prisoner—I took them to the station—I went to the gateway, and found this leather purse, and in it six bad shillings and another bad sixpence—the same as those two which I had got from Mr. Matthews and Mr. Hill—on searching Carroll I found 5s. 8 3/4 d. in coppers in his coat pocket, and one 4d. piece; a small portion of tea, and three pennyworths of tobacco—on Motz I found a 4d. piece, a halfpenny, and a tobacco box—I have no doubt the prisoners are the persons I saw talking together—I watched them a quarter of an hour.
Carroll. Q. You saw me under a gateway and you took me in the main street? A. Yes.
Motz. Q. You say you saw us both under a gateway, was it shut or open? A. It was shut; but there is a sort of recess you were in—there is a thoroughfare there—you were under the gateway—here is the mark where I bit the sixpence with my teeth—it was not marked with any instrument, but I bit it with my teeth, and showed it to the boy—the mark is to be seen now.
JOHN PEMBURY . I live with Mr. Matthews, a pork butcher. I remember Motz coming about 8 o'clock that night for a penny saveloy—he paid me a sixpence, and I gave him fivepence change—I put the sixpence in the front part of the till—I did not mix it with any other sixpences, I am sure—Motz left the shop, and the officer came in in about two minutes; I had not shut the till—the sixpence was there—I took it out and gave it to the policeman—I am sure it was the same that I had taken from the prisoner.
Motz. Q. How many persons were in the shop? A. I cannot say—I put the sixpence in the till—I did not put it with any more sixpences—when you shove the till in it shoves in very hard, and all the money goes to the back part; but I had not shut the till—I can swear to you—you had a blue handkerchief with white spots, and a coat on, and a cap, which I think was without a peak.
GEORGE HILL . I am a pork butcher. Between 8 and 9 o'clock the prisoner Motz came into my shop for a penny saveloy—he tendered me a sixpence—I found it was bad—I told him so—he asked me to give it him back—I refused to do so, and told him I believed he knew it was bad—he said he did not, and he worked hard for it—I followed him, and gave him into custody—I gave the sixpence to the officer—this is it.
Motz. Q. Do you say I gave it you? A. You handed it to my niece, and she handed it to me—you did not say to me that you would take me to the shop where you got it, for half an ounce of tobacco—you did not take me down three parts of the street—I followed you, and gave you into custody.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Royal Mint. These sixpences are bad, and from one mould—these six shillings found in the bag are all counterfeit, and four of them are from one mould—this sixpence in the bag is counterfeit, and is from the same mould as the other two.
(Carroll put in a written defence, stating that he was at Woolwich, seeking for work, and knew nothing of the other prisoner.)
CARROLL— GUILTY . Aged 45.— Confined Twelve Months
MOTZ— GUILTY .** Aged 28.— Confined Eighteen Months.
Before Mr. Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 32.— Confined Nine Months.
502. THOMAS WILLIAMS and JOHN PHILLIPS , breaking and entering the dwelling house of Thomas Gilbertson, and stealing therein 1 watch, and other articles, value 21l.; his goods: each having been before convicted: to which
WILLIAMS PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 20.
PHILLIPS PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22.
Four Years' Penal Servitude.
503. THOMAS BOLTON ROGERS , burglary in the dwelling house of Frederick Chapman, and stealing 1 pair of boots, value 6s.; his goods: and ELIZABETH ROGERS , feloniously receiving the same, knowing them to be stolen: to which
THOMAS BOLTON ROGERS PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 15.
MARY CHAPMAN . I am the wife of Frederick Chapman; we live at Deptford. On the night of 24th Feb. I went to bed about 12 o'clock—I saw that all the doors were fastened—I left a pair of my daughter's boots inside the fender in the lower room—the next morning I found the house had been entered, and the boots and other things were gone.
JAMES DAYIES . I am a pawnbroker. These boots were pawned with me on 26th Feb., I believe by Elizabeth Rogers—I knew her before—I am positive she came to the shop about the time the boots were pawned—I cannot swear to her pawning them.
ELIZABETH ROGERS— NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .* Aged 15.— Four Years Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
HARRIET GEORGE . I am a widow, and live at Deptford. I let lodgings—the prisoner occupied rooms in my house, and a man with her—the man left her there, and she was there for a fortnight after he left—she locked up the premises took the key with her, and never came back—she had given me no notice, and I had not the slightest idea that she was going—I unlocked the room with a key belonging to one of my neighbours, and missed a sheet, a quilt, the top of the bedstead, the drawer of the dressing table, and a shelf out of the cupboard—I had not looked in the room much after
she came, but am certain that they were there when I let her the room—I also missed three halfpence out of my own room, and my daughter's petticoat, which I had seen safe the day before—this is it (produced), the prisoner had it on when she was taken.
Cross-examined by MR. W. J. PAYNE. Q. When did she come to your house to lodge? A. I do not know the date; it was this year—the man who was with her took the apartments—he did not live there before she came; they came as man and wife, in the name of Young—I am quite certain that the key was not left in the door—there are other lodgers in the house—it was the back room, second floor—the man worked part of the time, and the prisoner made some slop shirts, and my daughter worked at the same—I went to the parties to get the work out—I did not pay a deposit to secure the work being brought back, because it was close by, a neighbour—I have never paid a deposit—I have never worked at it myself; sometimes the work was brought to the house, and sometimes my daughter fetched it—I have not had a new bonnet lately—the prisoner was taken on Thursday, 9th March—on the Saturday before she left, she paid me 2s. 6d.; and one day she paid me 5s.—it was for the rent—the 5s. 6d. was given to me for the purpose of my putting some more to it of my daughter's, and paying the deposit on some shirts, instead of which I appropriated it to the rent—I did not buy a bonnet out of it, or anything for myself—she owed me 9s. rent when she left, besides the 5s.—they pay very low for shirt making; the prisoner earned 3 1/2 d. for each shirt—out of that we have to find candles and cotton, and to live as well—she was in great distress, and I pitied her; she had not many clothes, and I was very kind to her, and had her down to our fire in the cold weather—I lent her a shawl which she never brought back.
ELIZA GEORGE . I am the daughter of the last witness. This petticoat is mine—on the day before I missed it, I saw it safe on a side table in the sitting-room—I next saw it on the prisoner when she was taken—I charged her, and she said that I gave it to her; that was not true, nor had I lent it to her.
Cross-examined. Q. Had not you lent her a shawl? A. No; I saw her wearing an apron of mine a day or two before she left—I met her three times before she was taken; I spoke to her one day, and she said that she would come down to mother the following morning between 9 and 10 o'clock, but she did not—I met her again on the following morning, but she gave me the slip—I worked with her sometimes at shirt making—this petticoat hung below her dress, and I could easily see it—I believe she was in great distress.
JOSIAH TURNER (policeman, 307). I took the prisoner, and told her the charge; she said she knew nothing at all about it—I was present when the last witness recognised her petticoat; the prisoner was wearing it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you tell her that she was charged with stealing a quilt, a sheet, and other articles? A. Yes; I said, "Various other articles," and she said that she knew nothing about it—it was after that that the prosecutrix saw the petticoat—I took her in Mill-lane, Deptford, about 200 yards from Hale-street.
COURT to HARRIET GEORGE. Q. You said that the man left the premises a fortnight before she did? A. Yes; I did not go into the room in the interval between that and her leaving.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Erie.
MR. CLARKSON conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY ROBINSON . I am barman to Mr. Drummond, of the Jolly Gardeners, at Lambeth Marsh. On 8th March, about half-past 7 o'clock in the morning, the prisoner came in and called for a pint of half-and-half—I drew it for him—two women came in shortly afterwards, the prisoner drank with them; they had half a quartern of gin—the prisoner then asked me to trust him till the evening for half a pint of beer and a pennyworth of gin—I said we did not do business in that way, we were not allowed to give any one credit—that is the practice of our house—the prisoner then used most disgusting language—he said, "I will break your b——y head, and I will knock your brains out; I will break your back"—I had not said or done anything to him previous to that—I have stated all I said—he then took up a pint pot and aimed at me three times; but I stepped back, and did not receive the blow—he was using similar language—he asked me again whether I would allow him credit—I said I would not—he then took up from the counter a large glass, what we term a pint glass, used for lemonade—it was a very thick glass, with a foot to it—he was going to throw it at me, but West, my fellow servant, caught hold of his arm, and took it from him—he was using similar language—he called me a b——y snot and a vagabond—he then walked through into the wholesale department, and asked me again whether I intended him to have it or not—I said, "No, you shall not have it"—he said he would be d——d if he would not have it—he walked along the side of the counter through into the wholesale department; the long arm was standing there, by Mr. Drummond's writing desk—it is a tang pole, with a piece of iron at the end, used to shut the shutters with—this is it (produced)—the prisoner caught hold of that, and struck me the blow that I have now on my temple—I do not know whether he had it in one hand or in both—I reeled, and should have fallen if I had not caught hold of the taps—blood flowed immediately from the wound, all about the floor—I bled more than an hour—I fainted after I left the bar to go into the kitchen, and was absent from the bar about an hour and a half—I heard the prisoner threaten to serve West, the same if he came to my assistance, and ten times worse—I was afterwards attended by Mr. Thompson, the surgeon.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH (in the absence of Mr. Payne). Q. Has the prisoner been in the habit of frequenting your master's house? A. Yes, for some time—I never had any words with him before—I believe he is a drunken loose fellow in the neighbourhood—he is frequently drunk—he was not drunk when he struck me, or the worse for liquor—this happened at half-past 7 o'clock—he had not been in previously—he had been there very late the night before, drank.
Prisoner. Q. When I came in about 6 o'clock in the morning, did not I come for a bundle which I had left there? A. Yes; you asked me for the bundle—you had some half and half, not gin and beer—I did not draw a man half a pint of ale, put a glass of gin in it, and give him a biscuit; nor did you say, "That is a cheap penny worth"—I did not say you were a d——d liar; nor did you reply, "I can believe my own eyes"—nothing of
the kind—I did not refuse to draw you anything, and catch you by the arm—it was not upon that that you struck me.
RICHARD WEST . I am fellow barman with Robinson. I was present at the time he was assaulted in this way—I have heard his evidence; he has spoken the truth—I have heard what the prisoner has been asking Robinson—he did not call the prisoner a d——d liar—he refused to give him drink on credit—he did nothing else to provoke him—I saw the prisoner strike Robinson with the long arm—it was a sad blow; it was with the hooked part.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the prisoner the night before? A. No; I saw him at half-past 6 o'clock in the morning—I did not serve him with anything to drink—I saw Robinson serve him with half a pint of half and half—when the women came, they had gin, and he paid for it; he did not drink any of it—I was there the whole time.
WILLIAM MERTHWAITE THOMPSON . I am a surgeon, and live at No. 116, Vauxhall-walk. Robinson was brought to my surgery by Rogers, the constable, between 1 and 2 o'clock in the afternoon—he was in a very debilitated state from loss of blood—he had a contused wound about an inch and a quarter, or an inch and a half, in length, on the upper part of the frontal bone—the scalp was completely divided as far as the membrane covering the bone—it was such a wound as might have been inflicted by an instrument like this, either with the iron or the blunt part—it was an injury likely to be dangerous—I attended him for some time—no erysipelas followed.
GUILTY** of unlawfully wounding. Aged 30.— Confined Nine Months.
MR. CAARTEN conducted the Prosecution.
SAMUEL SMITH . I live at No. 24, Rose-street, Long Acre, and am a hawker of baskets. On Tuesday, 27th March, I was out selling my goods—I had something to drink in a public house in the Wandsworth-road, and about 4 or 5 o'clock that afternoon I came to the Jolly Gardeners, in Lambeth-walk—I was the worse for liquor, but not so bad as not to know what I was doing—I did not see Blundell there when I first went in—I called for half a quartern of rum, and whilst having it, Blundell came and wanted to talk to me—he wanted to toss me for a quartern of gin—I said I would sooner treat him—I called for a pot of 6d. ale, and had a part of it myself—I do not know whether Blundell had any of it; he might have had some—I did not ask him—I wanted to get out of his company—I might have had 4s. or 5s. about me at the time, and some coppers—I took the money to pay for the ale out of a waistcoat that I had on, with double pockets—it was in the top pocket on the right hand side—I pulled my money out to pay for the ale, coppers and all together—Blundell might have seen that—when I had paid for the ale I put the money back again into the top pocket—after that Blundell wanted to spar with me—I did not—I told him I was an old man—he hustled me about, and knocked me down—he struck me, and knocked me down—I had not observed Collins there; there were more persons about—I was insensible from the blow; and when I
came to my senses I found myself in the station house, and I only had one farthing, and no hat—next day I found myself very much hurt at the side; I got worse and worse, and went home and went to bed; and on the Friday following I went to King's College Hospital—they told me there that one of my ribs was fractured—I have been attended ever since, and I am still suffering—I am bound up now, and am afraid to talk loud—I did not strike Blundell, or make his mouth bleed before he struck me—I did not spar at him to show what I could do when I was a young man—I did not reel against him and fall down—the account I have given is a true one.
Cross-examined by MR. M. J. O'CONNELL. Q. Where did you go, after leaving the station house? A. I went in search of the woman who had taken my baskets away—I was in search of her for about an hour and a half, with a handkerchief tied on my head because it began to rain—I had' been in the public house about twenty minutes before I was struck—I had left home about 9 o'clock that morning, and had been about my business, to sell my goods, till about half past 12, when I went to have my dinner in Wandsworth-road—I was also in the George, at Vauxhall—I had there part of half a quartern of rum, between two—I do not know that I saw Collins at all at the Jolly Gardeners—I am quite sure I had between 4s. and 5s. in my pocket there, I had it when I went in—I paid for the half quartern of rum out of it—I was locked up in the station house that night—it was next morning that I went to look after my baskets.
JAMES CARTER . I am a boot and shoe maker, and live at No. 76, Princes-road, Lambeth. On Tuesday, 27th March, I was at the Jolly Gardeners—I saw the prosecutor go in there with his old lady, and he left his goods at our shop, which is about forty yards from the Jolly Gardeners—I afterwards went in, and found him there, and Blundell—Blundell wanted to toss him for a quartern of gin—he said he did not want to toss him, or to have anything to do with him—Smith had had a drop to drink, but knew what he was about—he told Blundell that sooner than toss for a quartern of gin he would pay for a pot of ale—he ordered a pot, and took out his money to pay for it—he took it from his right hand waistcoat pocket—I saw him pay 6d. at the bar, and place what was left back again in his waistcoat pocket—Blundell saw that—I then saw Blundell hit the old woman a smack in the face, and after that he said to Smith, "We will have a tustle"—he chucked the old man (Smith) down on his back, and at the same time slipped his left hand into the old man's right hand waistcoat pocket, and took out some money—he handed it over Smith's face with his left hand, to Collins; at the same time he picked up Smith's hat, and gave it to Collins—Collins put the cap he had on his head into the hat, and put the hat on—he remained in the house about three minutes afterwards, and then walked away—I walked behind him—the way in which Blundell knocked Smith down was by laying hold of him and chucking him down, and he fell a top of him, and while he was down I saw him kick him no less than twice or three times in the ribs—that knocked Smith like silly, he did not know what he was doing—I followed Collins up two streets, and part of another, to find a policeman, but I could not see one—I then returned back to the Jolly Gardeners, and met two policemen—Blundell was then gone—the policemen went after him, and afterwards brought him back to the Jolly Gardeners—he was quite sober—Collins was tipsy, but knew what he was about, in my opinion—I should have known what I was about if I had been like him.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you follow Smith into the Jolly Gardeners, or
go in with him? A. I did not go till afterwards, when I was sent by my landlady to see that the old man was being righted—I suppose there might be a dozen persons there when I got there—I do not know who the old lady was that was with Smith, but she said at our shop that she was a relation when she left the baskets; I had never seen them before—they left the goods together at our shop for safety—I did not know the other persons who were drinking at this public house—I had never seen the prisoners before—I saw Blundell strike Smith when he was down—I did not interfere to prevent him, for I was on the doctor's list at the time—there were plenty of young men there that could have taken it up, and one young man did take it up, and wanted to fight Blundell—I do not know what became of him, I never saw him before or since—Collins was the worse for liquor—the prosecutor had about fifty pieces of goods, baskets and chairs.
JURY. Q. Did you see Collins with the prosecutor's hat? A. Yes, I did, and saw him walk out with it.
Blundell. The woman that was drinking with him is in custody now for thieving some of his baskets; this man asked her to come and swear against me, and she would not. Witness. I did not—you knocked one of the woman's teeth out with the smack you gave her in the face—I did not drink with the woman next day—I have never had a drop of beer in my lips for the last four months, till the day before yesterday.
Blundell to SAMUEL SMITH. Q. Did not you state that you had not been robbed, but the money you had lost you had spent? A. No—I wanted to get away—I did not fall and cut myself in the cell—I told the Magistrate next day that I had lost 4s. or 5s., I could not say to a shilling—I do not recollect seeing Collins at all—I did not strike you and cut your lip, nor did I catch hold of you and pull you down a top of me—you kicked me when I was down.
MR. M. J. O'CONNELL. Q. Has the woman who was in your company that day been taken into custody for stealing your property? A. Yes, or else she would have been a witness against the prisoners—I went home and went to bed, and the woman went and got my baskets, and sold some.
THOMAS GLENMAN . I live at No. 1, Hunt-street, Vauxhall. I was working at the Phoenix Gas Works—I left there on Tuesday—Collins also worked there, and left the same day—on Tuesday, 27th March, I went with him to the Jolly Gardeners—I was drunk—I saw Smith there, and Blundell—I saw Blundell shove Smith about up against the beer barrels—I cannot say that I saw him fall down—I have been examined before—I cannot recollect seeing Smith fall down—I saw a hat on Collins's head—he had not a hat on when he went into the Jolly Gardeners with me—I believe it was Smith's hat—I cannot say who gave it him, or how he got hold of it—he left the public house with me, wearing that hat.
Cross-examined. Q. You say Collins and you left the gas works that day? A. Yes, we left together—he was employed afterwards by the same firm, at the works at Bankside—this was at the Vauxhall Gas Works.
Blundell. Q. You were in the house all the time; did you see me knock Mr. Smith down? A. No; I did not see you kick him, or rob him.
MR. CAARTEN. Q. Were you sober enough to see what passed? A. I was not.
THOMAS REYNOLDS . I am barman at the Jolly Gardener's. On 27th March, the prisoners were at our house together for two or three hours—between 5 and 6 o'clock in the afternoon, I was cleaning the windows outside; the windows are all round the house—it is a square house, and there
are windows all the way round—there is no tap room or parlour—it is all front to the bar—it is a gin palace; all bar—whilst I was cleaning the windows, I heard a disturbance, which caused me to get down the steps; it was a hustling, and a row, and a woman was hallooing out, "Shall we fetch a policeman?"—I had not observed Smith there at that time—on hearing the noise, I looked through the window, and saw Smith on the floor, and Blundell on the top of him—I got down the ladder, and went into the house—Blundell had then got up—Smith was lying on the ground, seemingly insensible—I lifted him up; I was obliged to carry him—I took him to the other end of the shop, and sat him down, and then went back to get the mob out of the shop—I could not exactly tell whether his eye was cut at that time—I saw Collins by the side of Blundell when I came down off the ladder into the shop, and I heard Collins say to Blundell, "Let him have his hat"—Blundell immediately said, "I will see the b—d—first"—I then saw Collins put his cap in the hat, and walk out of the house—I did not exactly see how he got the hat—Blundell remained in the house for a short time, until he heard there was a policeman sent for—I went out to look for one, but could not see one—I endeavoured to keep in the house, to get the mob out—I heard the woman say that Blundell had robbed Smith, and she would fetch a policeman, and she went out once, twice, or thrice to get one—I have not seen that woman since—Blundell threatened to give her a crack, and he followed her out into the street to give her one, calling her all the b—b—he could lay his tongue to—a policeman afterwards came; Blundell was then gone—I did not see Blundell strike the Woman; he was quite sober—I believe Collins was quite sober enough to know what he was about.
Cross-examined. Q. How many persons do you think were in the bar at the time the scuffle took place? A. I could hardly tell, on account of the mob; a very great mob came in, hearing words—there are five doors to the house, and parties were rushing in at all the doors; it is a very public place—we do a great deal of business—now and then we have a row, but very rarely—we are not allowed to serve persons who are drunk—I dare say Smith remained in the house about half an hour, before he was taken to the station—he was in the public place, in the same position where I placed him, after picking him up—I could not very well keep my eye upon him all the time, as I was trying to disperse the mob—I do not know who was about him during that time; I did not see any one in particular.
Blundell. Q. When you came inside to pick the man up, you saw me a top of him? A. Yes—I did not see you strike him, nor rob him, nor kick him, not but what you are quite capable of doing it—I did not see you touch him, before I picked him up—you might have robbed him between the time of my getting down the steps and coming into the house, for I had to stop outside to get the mob away from the door before I could get in—I lost sight of what was going on inside for that time.
LEWIS ROGERS (policeman, L 187). On 27th March, I was in Princes-road, Lambeth-walk, and was called into the Jolly Gardeners by the barman—Blundell was there when I went in—the other barman said he would give him in charge if he did not go out; he turned round and went away, and after he was gone, the old woman, who is now in custody, came up to me and said, "Oh, my brother has been robbed of all his money and his hat; I have been to look for a policeman, and cannot find one"—she gave a description of the men, and I went off to see if I could find Blundell—I
found him at the Star and Garter, with two others, drinking—I told him he was charged with robbing Samuel Smith, and likewise assaulting him—he said, "It was not me; I certainly threw the old man down, but not with the intention of hurting him"—I brought him up to the Jolly Gardeners, and Carter came up and said that was the man he saw rob him—when I first went into the Jolly Gardeners, Carter was not there, nor the old woman; she came up on the Tuesday following as a witness for Smith, but in consequence of her robbing Smith, the Magistrate would not take her evidence—I found out where she had sold three baskets—I found Smith sitting in the corner, holding his eye, which was bleeding—he did not seem to know what he was doing—he had no doubt been drinking—he was taken to the station—he said he did not know what money he had; he knew he had some, but he had lost his hat, and lost all his money—he was locked up in a cell—I know nothing about his falling off a seat—he was just the same in the morning, only he complained of his side being stiff—he had the cut on his eye when I took him from the Jolly Gardeners—he had become sensible in the morning—on the Thursday following, I took Collins into custody at the Phoenix Gas Works, Bankside—I told him he was charged, along with Blundell, with robbing Samuel Smith of his money, and receiving the money and his hat—he said, "I know nothing at all about it, perhaps my mates do, for I was very tipsy at the time."
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know what time it was when you came to the Jolly Gardeners? A. About 10 minutes past 6 o'clock—there were, I dare say, fifteen or sixteen persons there at that time—I did not take Smith at once to the station, not till after I had been in search of Blundell—I saw Smith there, he gave an account that same night at the station of being robbed of his money and his hat; he could not tell what money he had—he was kept at the station house all night, because he was not capable of taking care of himself, and he lived so far away—he was affected no doubt from the blow, and from having a little drink—he was kept in the cell for the night—I had no trouble in finding Collins—I had been to the gas works before, about 10 o'clock on the same Thursday—I then saw the foreman; I gave a description of Collins, and asked if he had such a man working for him—he said he had; he said, "He is all black now, and in different clothes, but I will keep him here till 6 o'clock, and he will be just the same as he was when you gave a description of him"—I went at 6 o'clock, and found him there—he made no attempt to escape; the old woman was the first person that came and told me Smith had been robbed, and she said she had likewise been very much assaulted, and kicked in the leg, and struck in the face; she was not tipsy, she could walk and talk very well; she was afterwards charged with robbing Smith of his baskets—she is not committed for trial, she was remanded till to-day.
Blundell. Q. When you came into the Jolly Gardeners, did not I stand outside the house for some time? A. No; you walked away, and did not stay a minute—nothing was said when I first came up about robbing the man, none of the witnesses were there then.
COURT. Q. Have you not found the prosecutor's hat? A. No; I have made all the inquiries I could about it—I found 1s. on Blundell at the station.
(Collins received a good character.)
BLUNDELL— GUILTY . Aged 28.— Four Years Penal Servitude.
COLLINS— GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Three Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
LEWELLYN GUNN . I am clerk to the Magistrates at Lambeth police court. I was there on 17th Jan. when a charge came on, to be heard against Stephen Skinner and Mary Skinner, his wife, before Mr. Elliott—it is not the practice to lay the charge sheet before the Magistrate; we enter the charge in our books—I have an entry of it, and of the evidence, in this book—(read: "17th Jan., Stephen Skinner and Mary Skinner, charged by David Pegram, L 161, "who was sworn to give evidence)—David Pegram says, "They were drunk, and making a disturbance in Palace New-road at 3 o'clock this morning; they wanted a cab man to take them, but he would not, the man tried to persuade his wife to go, but she would not—the woman threatened to twist my nose, and used bad language to me"—another constable was examined, and after that the charge was adjourned to the following Monday, the 22nd, on which day no further evidence was taken against the Skinners, and the charge against them was dismissed.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. I believe you have known the defendant as an officer? A.. Several years—I have had opportunities of observing his conduct; he has borne the character of a vigilant, active, and upright man.
STEPHEN SKINNER . I am a letter carrier, and live at No. 2, Lower's-buildings. I recollect Wednesday morning, 17th Jan.—I had been to the Victoria theatre the night before, with my wife and three friends; we were returning home at 20 minutes or a quarter to 3 o'clock—it was my intention to ride, and I went to the comer of the Palace New-road, Westminster, to engage a cab—I saw a cab man, who said he would take us to Cadogan-pier, Chelsea, for 2s. 6d.—I do not know his name; I should not know him again—I went back to inform my friends, but they were going to walk home, and I said, "Perhaps the man will take me and my wife for less money"—I engaged this man (pointing to a man in Court)—he wanted 3s. 6d. for the five, but the others walked home—I was about to get into the cab when a policeman came up; it was the prisoner—he said to the cab man that if he were he, he would not take the fare at all; he said, "Have your money first"—on that the cab man said, "I want my fare"—I said, "How much is it? "—he said, "2s"—I put my hand into my pocket, and tendered 2s.; and then the prisoner said, "If I were you, I would not take the fare at all;" and then the cab man said he would not take the fare—my wife said, "Do you think it is not 2s.? "and the prisoner said, "Go on, ma'am;" and pushed her off the kerb into the road—she said, "Who do you call ma'am? "and he went into the road, and pushed her twice—I took hold of her arm, and said, "Come with me to the station house, and we will see whether he will not take the fare—the prisoner then commenced pushing me very violently; it was a frosty night, and I had hard work to prevent myself from falling—I went down the Westminster-road, and he kept treading on our heels as we went down—we afterwards went to the station; he charged us with being drunk and disorderly, and making a noise, and we were locked up—I was sober, and so was my wife; we were not making a disturbance in the road—I tried to persuade my wife to go to the station, because she kept crying about her child—she did not threaten to twist the defendant's nose; no such word was spoken—she made no threats, and used no bad language towards the defendant.
Cross-examined. Q. How long do the performances at the Victoria Theatre last? A. It was over about 10 minutes to 1 o'clock on this night—it is not far from Palace New-road to the Victoria—we had had a pot of porter between three of us men, and a quartern of gin and some water—that was not all that we had—I had a share of two pints in the evening, among me and two men, before the time of coming out, but no spirits—we did not drink it in the theatre, but in front of a bar—I will undertake to say that that was all the refreshment I had—we walked to the theatre—I had none of the gin; I do not know who drank it—I was present, but was engaged talking to people—I suppose my wife partook of it—I did not see what she had—I sat down and smoked a pipe after leaving the Victoria; it might have been two pipes; I cannot tell you what I had exactly—I did not pay for what I drank—I did not share with my friends in anything they ordered—I was in my wife's company all the time that she and the defendant were there, except when I came out of a pie shop to engage a cab—I had nothing to drink or to eat in the pie shop, but my wife and my friends had some pies—my wife and I were married seven years and a half ago; I am not bound to answer where, but can say if I think proper; it was at Hammersmith; but I Hid not know that I was bound to answer all these questions—I distinctly pledge myself that I am married to the person whom I represent as my wife—two or three other policemen came up while this was going on—I did not notice their numbers—I do not know that I could swear to them again—I saw the sergeant at the station, and I see him here to-day.
MR. CLERK. Q. Whom did your party consist of at the Victoria? A. Me, and my wife, and two men, and a female—one of the men, Golding, is here—the women had the gin and hot water, after the performance, at Mr. Hodges's, in Webber-street, close to the theatre, and I had a share of a pot of porter there—the half pint of gin was in Westminster Bridge-road, about 2 o'clock in the morning—we stopped there about an hour—I do not know who paid for the half pint of gin; I did not—I did not see who drank it—I had none of it—my wife was in the company of the other women, and no doubt she took some of it.
MARY SKINNER . I am the wife of the last witness. I recollect going to the Victoria Theatre, in Jan.; the performance was over about ten minutes to 1 o'clock—I had nothing to drink during the performance; I did not come out till it was over—I was with my husband and three friends when we came out—we went to a public house, and I and the females had a glass of gin and water and some bread and cheese, which I think they paid for—from there we went to a public house in Westminster Bridge-road—we did not go straight there; we met a person, and were talking in the street—four of us partook of half a pint of gin there—we had nothing else there—we were there about half an hour, and then went straight to a pie shop, in the Westminster-road, and when we had been there some few minutes, my husband went to get a cab, and in consequence of something he said, I went out to a cab which was in the street, and the man who my husband had engaged had gone, but there was another man a short distance lower down, with a cab—the prisoner was there—our friends would not agree to go, because Pigram wanted 36d., so we bade them good night, and they walked away—my husband said, "Perhaps you will take me and my wife for less? "he agreed to take 2s., and I was about getting into the cab, when the policeman came up and said, "Have your money first"—my husband offered the cab man 2s., and he was going to take it, but the policeman said, "If I
were you, I would not take the fare at all"—I said to the policeman, "Do you not think it is 2s.?"—he said, "None of your impudence, ma'am," and pushed me two or three times—my husband caught hold of my arm and said, "Come along with me to the station house, and see if he will not take the fare"—we went there, and a charge was made against us by the prisoner for being drunk and disorderly—I was sober; I made no noise—I did not make a disturbance in Palace New-road, at 3 o'clock that morning—I did not refuse to go home when my husband wished me—I did not use any threat towards the defendant, or any bad language—I did not say, "I will twist your snotty nose off," or, "I will wring your b——nose;" nothing of the kind.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you went to the Victoria somewhere about five minutes to 6 o'clock? A. About that time—we had no refreshment at the theatre—we came out somewhere about ten minutes to 1 o'clock, and went to a public house by the side of the Victoria, where we stopped half or three quarters of an hour—we had the half pint of gin at a public house in Westminster-road—I just wetted my lips with beer, with my bread and cheese, and I had some gin and water—I did not drink hearty—I cannot say how much out of the pot I drank; I only had recourse to it once—my husband had none of the gin; he drank porter—we ordered a pot of porter at the first public house, and half a pint of gin at the second; we stopped there about half an hour—I mean to swear positively that I had nothing that evening but the share of the glass of gin and water and the share of the gin—we had the gin neat—my husband had not a little drop, but he could have if he had thought proper—we stayed at the pie shop ten minutes or a quarter of an hour; whilst I was there, I could hear my husband talking to the cab man—several policemen came up while we were talking; I cannot say how many—the defendant gave no reason why the cab man should not take us—he did not say that it was because we were fresh or drunk—being drunk is being not capable of taking care of one's self—I am sure the defendant did not say, "I would not take them; they are drunk," nor anything like it—I cannot remember it if I did hear it—it was rather a slippery night—I did not slip at all; my husband did—pushing made us slip—I did not see more than one cab man; that is him (pointing him out)—I saw him next at Lambeth police-court.
MR. CLERK. Q. Were you the worse for drink? A. No; I was not the better for it—I was not excited with drink.
COURT. Q. You had a share of half a pint of gin? A. I had a glass of gin—Mr. and Mrs. Brown, and Mr. Golding, shared it with me.
JOHN GOLDING . I live at No. 16, Brewer's-buildings. On 9th March I met with Mr. and Mrs. Skinner, at the theatre—in the course of the evening me and Mr. Skinner, and Brown, went out and had two pints of porter, and went back to the performance—Mrs. Brown and Mrs. Skinner sat together, and Mr. Brown sat two seats back—after the play was over we went to a public house at the other side of the theatre, where we had one pot of porter, and the women had a quartern of gin and some water—there was some bread and cheese, but I had none—I did not see Mr. Skinner drink any of the gin and water, but I had one drink of it—we may have stopped more than half an hour, but not an hour—we then went right up the New Cut, and went into another public house in the Westminster-road, and had half a pint of gin and a pot of porter—we stopped there half an hour, and then went to a pie shop just against Artillery-place—it was then our wish to have a cab. and Skinner went round the corner to bring one—
he came back without one, and me and Mr. and Mrs. Brown walked home, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Skinner—they were then perfectly sober—I saw the defendant come up; he stood against the pie shop—I heard no conversation between him and Skinner in the pie shop—they were making no noise, or I should have been sure to have heard them—I had left them then.
Cross-examined. Q. At what time did you leave their company? A. About a quarter to 3 o'clock, at the corner of Artillery-place—I did not turn down the Palace New-road at all—the pie shop is a goodish distance from the public house, further from Westminster-bridge, on the other side of Marsh-gate—I had a glass of gin before I went to the theatre, but I was not in Skinner's company then—it was just 3 o'clock when I was going into St. James's-park—I work at the London and Westminster Cemetery as grave digger—I did not go before the Police Magistrate—I was not asked—Skinner spoke to me last Thursday about coming here—he said nothing to me in the meantime—I mean to say that he had not been to see me or my wife—he is an acquaintance of mine—I have known him two years.
MR. CLERK. Q. Where was Skinner and his wife when you left them? A. Mrs. Skinner was about to enter the cab. and I wished them good night—there was a cab at the corner of the street when I went away—I cannot say whether the defendant was by it.
CHARLES POWELL . I am out of business; I have been a bus proprietor till within the last few months. On this morning I walked over Westminster-bridge, and down the Bridge-road—it was twenty-five minutes to 3 o'clock when I was at the Horse Guards—when I got to Artillery-place, I heard a noise, and saw three or four policemen, and a man and woman—as I crossed the road the man and woman were crossing the road, and a policeman behind them—Skinner is the man—I saw no cab there—I saw the policeman push the woman, and the man took hold of her arm, and then the policeman pushed him—I told the policeman that it was very uncalled for, as the people were going quietly, and I said to the man, "My good fellow, go wherever he wants you"—he said, "I am in the Post Office, and this is my wife; she has a baby at home at the breast"—I said, "Do not be excited; go with him"—the policeman allowed him to pass, and then pushed him—I went down to the station with them—Skinner was no more the worse for liquor than I am now, but I will not swear as to the wife; she was very much excited, whether by the policeman, or by drink, I do not know—I heard her say to the policeman that she had a child at the breast, unprotected, and wanted to get home—she did not use any bad language, but the defendant said to her," I will learn you what you mean by calling me a snot" that was the only blackguard word I heard—I went into the station after three quarters of an hour—I was very much annoyed by the policemen; they called me a puppy, and kept me outside three quarters of an hour, and my friend, Robert Fife, with me, and when I did get in they tried to excite me, to lock me up—I saw a sergeant there.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you not excited at all? A. Not in the least—I may be excited sometimes—I had dined with a friend, but had taken nothing but coffee, as my friend is a teetotaler—I did not call in somewhere to make amends, there was no house open—I swear I was sober—I had had nothing to drink since 10 o'clock—I think Mrs. Skinner may have been a little tipsy—she had not hold of her husband's arm at first—he took hold of her arm to save her falling from a push—when I first came up there was a mob and three or four policemen—I heard no noise before I came up to the corner.
ROBERT FIFE . I manage the business of a plumber. I was with Powell, and had been dining at the same place—we were coming down Westminster Bridge-road, about 3 o'clock in the morning—I heard no noise, but saw a man and woman coming across the road, and a policeman pushing them along—I saw no cab standing by the side of the road—I did not speak to the man who was being pushed, before he went to the station, nor did I hear my friend speak to him—Skinner was quite sober—his wife was making a noise; I cannot tell what she said, and her husband said to her, "Come along, or this will do me an injury"—she was not at all reluctant to go with him—I cannot tell whether she was sober—she was excited, but it was not the appearance of a person excited by liquor.
Cross-examined. Q. When you came up there was no noise, but there was a crowd, was not there? A. Only two or three policemen—Mrs. Skinner was not talking particularly loud; I could hear her making a noise when I was opposite—I am not a teetotaler—I am perfectly sober now—I heard Skinner say to the woman, "Come on, my dear, and do not talk to him"—she kept crying out about her baby—I have been in my present employment between nine and ten years—we had been passing the evening at the same place—I had had nothing but coffee—I did not find it necessary to have something stronger afterwards—I and my friend went together at 9 o'clock.
EDWARD PIGRAM . I am no relation of the prisoner, my name is not spelt the same—I am a cab man, and was on the stand on the morning of 17th Jan.—Skinner came to a cab before mine, but did not engage it; he wanted to go for 2s. and the man said he would not go for less than 2s. 6d.—he then came out of a pie shop with his wife when the first cab was gone, and demanded of me to go for half a crown—I said, that as there were five, I could not go for less than 3s. 6d.—when his wife found that I would not go for half a crown, she got very passionate, and wanted to know where the police were; the defendant then came up, and from the opposite side four other policemen came up—I said, "Here are the police now"—the prisoner wanted to know what was the matter—I said that they wanted to go for 1s. under the fare, and I would not go—the wife applied to the prisoner to know whether he could not compel me to go—the prisoner said that he had nothing to do with that; if I did wrong they had got their remedy—she got very passionate, and the prisoner said, "We cannot have this noise here, the man will not take you, you must go on, ma'am"—she directly said, "Who do you call ma'am, I am no ma'am; if you call me so again, I shall wring your nose;" or, "wring the snot out of your nose;" and then she repeated the same words, with some other expression which I do notrecollect—the prisoner then gave her a push on the shoulder, pushed her off the pavement, and said, "Why don't you hold your tongue, your tongue will get you into trouble"—they then walked a little way down the road, and I saw no more of it—I have known the prisoner for years, as a policeman on the beat, but nothing more—they were not at any time getting into my cab—when I would not take the five for 2s. 6d., Skinner said, "Then me and my wife will go;" and he said to the others, "You know where to meet us"—one of the policemen said, "Have you got any money? "and Skinner pulled out two or three 2s. pieces—the prisoner said, "You had better have your fare first"—I stood at the door of my cab. and would not let anybody get in—I do not say that they were drunk, but they were the worse for liquor, the woman more than the man.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been a cab man? A. I have
driven for my present master twenty years—when Mrs. Skinner hallooed out about wringing the policeman's nose, she went up to him in an attitude, and then he pushed her—I did not hear her call him any other ill name, nor did Skinner at all, he was persuading her to be quiet.
JOHN TIMOTHY HUGHES (police sergeant, L 20). On the morning of 17th Jan., I was on duty at the police station, and the defendant brought Skinner and his wife, and made a charge against them of being drunk and riotous in the street, which I entered in the charge sheet—they were both drunk, there can be no mistake about it—neither of them complained of being assaulted they made no charge against the prisoner of what he had done.
Cross-examined. Q. Is he in the same division as yourself A. Yes; and has been for twelve or thirteen years—he has borne a very good character, and is what we consider a picked man.
JURY. Q. What opportunity had you of judging that they were both drunk? A. I did not take the charge in a hurry—I took some time to argue with them, and if I could have got rid of them without looking them up, I would have done so.
COURT to STEPHEN SKINNER Q. How was it that you went to the station; were you taken there by the prisoner, or were you going to complain A. I was going to complain, and I had said so; I said to my wife, "Come along to the station, and see if he will not take the fare," and he said, "You shall go to the station." MR. LILLEY called
SAMUEL WINTERBOURN (policeman). On 16th Jan., about 3 o'clock In the morning, I was on duty in the York-road, very nearly opposite Astley's—my attention was attracted by a woman hallooing out very loud—I went up and heard her say that she would wring the snot out of Pegram's nose, and she put up her hands, as if to make a scratch at his face; he pushed her away; she did it a second time, and he pushed her away—they were decidedly drunk, but the woman was worse than the man; she was hallooing out—I was 100 yards down the street when I heard it; it was a scream, but not as if in distress; as a woman does who is drunk—I cannot say whether I saw Pegram there, I saw Claridge and Keefe—there were five or six persons when I went up; they were on the cab rank—I heard the defendant advise the woman to go quietly, or else he should take her to the station; and he advised her several times to go home—I saw her put up her hand twice, if not three times.
Cross-examined by MR. CLERK. Q. You have been subpœnaed on account of the transaction of this night A. I have—I did not go into the station with Skinner and his wife—I left them in the Westminster-road, not in custody—they were then about twenty yards from the cab rank, in the middle of the road, going down the road, and the prisoner with them—I did not suppose that they were in the policeman's custody, because he was advising them to go home—they were walking away from Westminster-bridge; I now know that that was not their way home—I was about 100 yards from the place where I found them, when I heard the noise—neither of the other constables were with me at first—I heard the woman hallooing out very loud, but could not distinguish words till I got up to the place—they staggered going across the road, particularly the woman—when she put up her hands to the constable's face, she said that she would wring the snot out of his nose—I swear that—they were then at the cab rank, which is close to the footpath; they were on the footpath—there were one or two cabs on the stand—I did not go down to the station that evening, nor was I at the police court next morning—my attention was first called to it the
following, when the charge was being heard against Pegram for exceeding his duty—I was called as a witness for him—I was examined on Monday, the 22nd.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you know at that time where they lived? A. I did not—it is the duty of a police constable, when persons are intoxicated, to see them off his beat, if he can get them away quietly.
JOSIAH CLARIDGE (policeman). On the morning of 16th Jan. I was on duty in Westminster Bridge-road, opposite Palace New-road, and my attention was called by a dispute with a cab man—there were five persons there; three went away, and Skinner and his wife remained—they were both making a noise—I first heard it when I was on the York-road side of the way, and went over—Skinner wanted the cab man to take him for a certain amount; the cab man would not—the policeman said, "If I were you, Don (which is the cab man's nickname), I should have my tin first"—Skinner said that he was under Government the same as we were, and insisted on being conveyed in the cab—the cab man said that they were drunk, and he should not take them without he got the money first—they were drunk, and the woman was much worse than the man—the policeman told her to go away and keep herself quiet, and she threatened to wring his nose if he laid hands upon her—he said first, "I cannot have this disturbance; there have been complaints here by the people;" and she said, "You d——d vagabond; if you touch me I will wring the snot out of your nose" (I was on the spot before Winterbourn)—after that Skinner and his wife said that they would go down to the station, and see if they could not make the cabman take them; and the prisoner said, "I will not have any more of this; I will take care that you do go down to the station"—they went to the station, and Pegram walked about two yards behind—I went; I was about three yards behind—at the corner of Oakley-street they wanted to go straight down the road, and Pegram said, "No, this is the way"—Fowne said, "No, this is the way"—that was the nearest way to the station—there was noise enough to call the attention of other officers—I did not see the woman do anything, but I heard her threaten him twice.
Cross-examined. Q. You went down to the station, did you? A. Yes—I was examined before the Magistrate on the 17th—I gave evidence before the Magistrate on Monday, the 22nd, also—I am still in the police, but am suspended in consequence of what took place then—the whole discussion in the street with the cab man took about ten minutes—it was after the constable had pushed the woman once that she threatened to pull his nose—they were not then in the middle of the street, but just by the side; they had not started on their way to the station—they were not in custody at first; but when they left that spot they were—it is thirty or forty yards from one side of the road to the other—after the woman made use of that expression, Pegram pushed them two or three times—I believe it was because they continued the disturbance that he took them into custody—Mr. Powell came up at the time they were crossing the road.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Why were they taken? A. Because Skinner insisted on being taken by the cab. and the constable told them that it was not a place or a time to make that disturbance, and if they did not go away, he would take them in charge—I believe it was ordered by the Government that I should be suspended.
LAURENCE KEEFE (policeman). On the morning of 16th Jan. I was on duty in Westminster-road, Astley's side, and about 3 o'olock, or a little before, I was by the railway arch, and I heard a disturbance—I went
towards it, and found, to the best of my opinion, five or six people at the comer of Palace New-road, near Astley's, close by the cab rank—there was a woman there—I did not go into the crowd, but I stood and heard a female say that she would give a constable a smack in the face, and that she would wring his snotty nose—she was noisy—I did not cross at all; they came across the road in less than a minute after I got there—I then saw Skinner and his wife—the woman continued talking very loud—I considered that they were very much the worse for liquor; they were walking with linked arms—they walked all along Westminster-road, and I walked three or four yards behind them, as far as the corner of Oakley-street—the defendant was walking behind them—I saw Powell, and the gentleman who was with him.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you did not cross the road; what road was that? A. The Palace New-road—I stood on one side, while they were standing on the other side—the road is about a dozen yards broad; they were at the corner of the two roads; they had come across the corner of Palace New-road, and along Westminster-road—the Skinners were at the corner of Palace New-road, on the other side, when the woman said that she would smack the constable's face—they kept in the road—Skinner was staggering, but not much; I did not see the woman stagger, because they were both linked together—I heard Skinner say that he was a postman under Government, and that it would not do for him to be locked up—I heard the woman say at the station that she had a baby at home, and did not want to be locked up—Pegram was behind them—I saw him push them at the corner of Palace New-road; he pushed them towards the station.
GUILTY .— Judgment Respited.
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
(Edward Powell, being called upon, did not appear.)
JONATHAN HALE . I am deputy sexton of Lambeth Church. I produce the register of marriages—I find here the register of a marriage on 4th Feb., 1838, between William Chalk, bachelor, and Maria Lewis, spinster.
DANIEL SMITH (policeman, K 415). On 20th Feb. the prisoner was given into my custody by Jemima Jeffery, who charged him with marrying her on 23rd July, 1853, his wife being still alive—she gave me these two certificates (produced)—the prisoner denied being married to her; he said that he was married to Maria Lewis, who was alive, and had gone down into the country about six days—he denied knowing anything about this certificate which she gave me in his presence—he said that it was not true.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. Did not he tell you distinctly that he never had married Jemima Jeffery? A. Yes, over and over again in her presence—she said that by the certificate she was married to a person named William Johnson.
SARAH BROIDE . I am the wife of James Broide, of No. 104, Union-street, Southwark. The prisoner is my son by a former husband—I recollect his marriage to Maria Lewis, seventeen years ago, at Lambeth Church—I was not at the wedding, but I had a sister who was—I saw Maria Lewis about six months ago, and spoke to her.
Cross-examined. Q. The prisoner's name is Chalk? A. Yes—I do not believe he ever went by the name of Johnson—as far as I know, I do not believe he ever was married to this girl—I do not know her, but she sent a young man to my place to make a few pounds for her.
and have known the prisoner two years and more—I was married to him at Lambeth Church, on 23rd July, 1853—he was married in the name of William Johnson—we lived together about four months, and then he quarrelled with me, and told me he was going home to his other wife, and he wrote a separation out between us, and agreed to allow me 8s. a week—he allowed me 3s. a week for three months—he then came and told me that I must go and live with him again, or he should stop the payment, and I was obliged to do so, and we lived together for two months, when he stripped the place, and left me—I saw him in Cheapside five or six weeks afterwards, and lived with him again—he furnished me a room for my confinement, and I lived with him from 1st July to 18th Jan. last—on 17th Jan. he tried to poison me, and left me on the 18th—he has told me that he had got another wife, but that she was a bad woman, and took to drinking, and he would not live with her—Mr. Powell was one of the witnesses to the marriage—he gave me away—I took no witnesses with me; he would not allow me.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you any persons with you to-day who were present at your marriage? A. No, he would not allow me to take any one—there was a clergyman and a clerk—I did not live with him at all before I was married—he met me first in Blackfriars-road—he was with a companion—I did not go and drink with him—I did not go and sleep with him on that occasion—I should know the young man who was with him—we parted that night—the prisoner wished me to see him home, but I refused—that was more than four months before we were married, and I did not see him again till three weeks afterwards—after we were married, we lived first in Tooley-street—we were married on the 23rd, and he came home to me on the following Friday—I lived there before I was married—he used to come to the door, but he never came in—this is the prisoner's child; it is eleven months old—the prisoner gave me in charge for robbing him on 20th Feb.—I knew that his wife was alive about four months after we were married—he did not tell me that he was a married man, and could not live with me—I would not tell a false oath on him, or anybody else—I never went to Foresthill with him; I never was there—I did not go there by railway, and walk back through Dulwich to London, nor did he then tell me that he was a married man—I knew it in 1853, four months after we had been married—he charged me with robbing him, not with assault—I did not charge him was assault, but with ill usage—I went to get a summons out against him, but I did not know where he was gone to—he appeared before the Magistrate—I did not say a word about his being married to me, when I got the summons—he gave me into custody for robbery—I told the Magistrate a Worship-street that I was his wife—that was on the very same day—I went to Mr. Strachan, the prisoner's employer, once, to carry a letter from Mr. Johnson—the letter was signed "Chalk"—that was some time afterward married—I knew that his name was Chalk about four months after we were married—on my solemn oath, I was in Lambeth Church, and I was never in a Church with any other man—Mr. Powell was the only witness of the marriage, and he is ill—the prisoner only complained once of my robbing him—he did not leave me because I robbed him—I have not said half what I know about him, and what he deserves—there were two other parties married on the same day, but I did not know them—we did not converse together—there were not several persons present at our marriage—I gave the name of Johnson before the Magistrate; I did not give the name of Jefferys—I mentioned that I was his wife when I applied for the summons against him—I did not get the summons—early on 17th Jan. he got up, made me a
cup of coffee, took a paper out of his pocket, put something in it, and told me to drink it while it was warm—he made the coffee before me—I made a charge against him the very same day, and he emptied it away—I suppose he intended to murder me—I have not said this before in Court; I was not asked any questions—when the charge of robbery was made against me, Mr. D'Eyncourt did not blame him, in my presence, for living with me when he was a married man—he denied having married me at that time—I have not been married before—I have never said before that I was married to a man named Johnson—I was going home when I met the prisoner in Blackfriars-road—I then lived at Mrs. Meeson's, in Tooley-street, in a room by myself, where I afterwards lived with the prisoner—I was the only single girl there—no other girls lived there.
MR. HORRY. Q. There were some other persons married at the same time as you? A. Yes—I know that Mr. Powell was a witness—the signing was going on one after the other—I signed, and the prisoner signed.
MARY MEESON . I am a confectioner, of No. 107, Tooley-street—the last witness lived in my house in 1853—the prisoner came there to live with her in the name of Johnson—I understood from her that they were married, but he was not present when she said so—they lived together as man and wife between four and five months; she introduced him as her husband.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you tell me when he first came to live there? A. I think it was about a week after they were married—I cannot recollect the date.
ELIZABETH WORDLEY . I am the wife of Andrew Wordley, a lighterman—Jemima Jeffery lived for six weeks at our house; it is about ten weeks ago—one Saturday night, the prisoner came there and asked for a young woman named Mrs. Johnson—I told him nobody could see her but her husband; he hummed and ahead it out and said, "Well, I am her husband "—he wanted to stay there till the Monday, but did not, because she would not let him.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know her? A. Only by lodging at my place—two other men have visited her there—a man slept with her three nights running, from what my lodger told me; I know that a man was there the last thing at night, and the first thing in the morning—I do not know whether anybody else has claimed this child—she went by the name of Mrs. Johnson there.
MR. HORRY. Q. Do you know either of the persons? A. Mr. Henry Chalk is one; she told me that he was her brother at first; he helped in moving the things in—I do not know the name of the other man—only one man came to her after Henry Chalk—she told me that that was a Mr. Johnson, who used to carry caps about for her—he did not stay long.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"I deny the second marriage."
DANIEL SMITH (policeman), re-examined. I have come from Mr. Powell, the sexton—he is too ill to appear; he was thrown from his gig on Sunday, and cut his head very severely—I saw him also on Monday—I produce the register of marriages for 1853, in which appears an entry of a marriage between William Johnson, butcher, and Jemima Jeffery, spinster.
MR. PARRY to ELIZABETH WORDLEY. Q. What age do you believe the child to be? A. About seven months old.
(The COURT considered that there was not sufficient proof of Powell's illness to allow his deposition to be put in.)
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. SCRIVEN and CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
CAROLINE CUNNINGTON . My husband keeps a baker's shop, at Penge, in Surrey. On 28th Feb., the prisoner came to the shop about 12 o'clock, asked for a 2d. loaf, and offered me a 2s. piece—I detected it to be bad, and told him so—I showed it to my husband, who was in the bakehouse, and gave it to him—he came into the shop, told the prisoner it was bad, and asked him where he got it—he said he took it in change for a sovereign—the prisoner then asked for a 1d. loaf, took 2d. out of his pocket, and gave me 1d.—I asked him why he did not pay me with the 2d. for the 2d. loaf—he did not say anything—he left the shop, and my husband followed him.
JOHN JOSEPH CUNNINGTON . I am the husband of the last witness. I recollect her coming to me in the bakehouse, at a little before 12 o'clock—she gave me a 2s. piece—I discovered that it was bad—I went into the shop, and found the prisoner there—I told him it was bad, and he asked me to give it him back—I refused that, and asked him where he got it from—he said he got it in change for a sovereign—I said he must have more about him—he said nothing to that—he went away, and I followed him for nearly two miles—he walked in a circle, and went by the back of the Exhibition—I saw him stop, and count some silver—he turned, saw me, and ran away—he threw something from his right hand—he made a jump from a wall, and ran away—I called to a man to follow him—he took him, and I went with the officer to the spot where I saw something thrown—I saw the officer pick up one shilling—I gave him the 2s. piece—I have seen it since—I know it by a mark I made on it.
Prisoner. Q. What other money had you in your shop? A. Some shillings, and other money, but that 2s. piece was kept separate—it was about a mile, or a mile and a half from the station, where I saw you throw something away—I should not have followed you, only there has been a great deal of bad money offered about for some time.
GEORGE SOLE (police sergeant, R 44). I was on duty at the station—I received this 2s. piece from the last witness—I searched the prisoner, and found in his right hand a sixpence, a penny, a halfpenny, and a farthing—I ordered him to pull off his boots, and when he pulled off the left boot a good 4d. piece fell on the floor—I went to the railway, and after looking about for some time, I found this shilling on the ground—I went back to the station, and told the prisoner I had found a shilling where the prosecutor saw him throw away something—he said, "That man wants to transport me"—I asked him where he lived—he said, "Nowhere"—he said he slept the night before in a model lodging house, in Westminster.
Prisoner. Q. How long was it from the time you left the station, till you returned? A. About an hour—the prosecutor gave me another counterfeit shilling that he had taken the week previous.
GUILTY . Aged 42.— Confined Eight Months.
MESSRS. SCRIVEN and CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD PINDER . I am a surgeon; I live in Oakley-terrace, Old Kent-road. On 2nd March the prisoner came for some drugs, which came to 2d.—she gave me a half crown—it was bad—I told her so—I detained her, sent
for an officer, and gave him the half crown—the prisoner said some gentleman gave it her—she was discharged.
CHARLES VICKERY . I keep a beer shop, in East-lane, Walworth. On 14th March the prisoner came with a jug for a pint of porter—I served her—she put a shilling down on the counter—I took it, and found it was bad—I put it in the detector, and bent it very much—I asked the prisoner where she came from—she told me a woman sent her, from the corner of the next turning—I wished her to take me to the woman, and she turned and abused me and my wife very much—I sent for a constable and gave her in charge, and gave him the shilling.
Prisoner. Q. You wanted to search me, and the policeman waited in the bar while I was searched. Witness. No; I did not—you were kept in my place—you were not searched in the parlour by my wife.
GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. SCRIVEN and CLERK conducted the Prosecution. MARGARET PACKER. I assist Mrs. Williams, who sells second hand clothes, in Gilbert-street. On 23rd Feb., the prisoner, and another woman came to the shop a little after 1 o'clock—the prisoner asked for a pair of stockings, and paid me for them with a shilling—I gave her change—before they left the shop they said they should be back again presently, as they wanted more things—I put the shilling in a work box kept to put money in—there was no other money in it—about half past 2 o'clock the prisoner and the other woman both came back to the shop, and picked out a chemise apiece—when they had selected them they were put aside—they came to 1s. and they paid me 3d. in coppers, as an earnest, till they came for them—they said they would be back at 4 o'clock, and fetch them—the prisoner said that they worked together at book folding for the monthly Magazines in the Strand, and they had not had much work that week, but their master paid them at 4 o'clock in the day, and they were to receive 10s. 4d. for the job they had in hand, at 4 o'clock—a little after 4 o'clock the prisoner and the other woman came back—the prisoner's companion laid me down a half sovereign; I took it up directly, and found it was very light—I said, "This is very light; it cannot be good"—I gave it to Margaret Williams, she took it out, and in a few minutes she came back with a person opposite, who brought back a half sovereign, and said in the prisoner's and the other woman's presence, that it was bad—the prisoner said it was hard to lose her money, and she had received it at the place where they had worked, and 10s. 4d. was what they had earned for the monthly Magazines, and it was hard to lose it—she said in the Strand, and mentioned some name, but I do not remember it—they were allowed to leave the shop to go to their master—I gave the prisoner a card of the shop, and I kept the half sovereign in the work box, where I had put the shilling—there was no other half sovereign there—Mrs. Williams came in—I examined the shilling after I had had my tea—I had not put any other shilling in the work box—the shilling was bad—that was a little after 5 o'clock—in about an hour after that, the prisoner came alone; she said she had been to her master, and he
was too busy, and would not come—Mrs. Williams was then at home; I called her—the prisoner wanted the half sovereign to get change—I refused to give it her; she was detained and given into custody—I gave the policeman the shilling, and Mrs. Williams gave him the half sovereign.
Prisoner. You said I was not the person who gave you the shilling. Witness. No, I did not.
MARGARET WILLIAMS . I am the daughter of Mary Williams. On 23rd Feb. I was in the parlour, and Mrs. Packer called me into the shop—I went into the shop, and found the prisoner and another person there—they saw Mrs. Packer give me a half sovereign, and I went to Mr. Littler's for change—he lives across the road—he weighed the half sovereign, and said it was bad—he came back with me, and brought the half sovereign back.
FREDERICK LITTLER . On 23rd Feb. the last witness came to my house with a half sovereign—I saw it was bad, and after I tried it I went back with her to her mother—the prisoner and another woman were there—I told them it was bad, and asked where they got it from—they both said they got it from their employer in the Strand—they were allowed to go to their employers—I gave the half sovereign to Mrs. Packer.
MARY WILLIAMS . On 23rd Feb. I came home about 5 o'clock in the afternoon—Mrs. Packer gave me a bad half sovereign—the prisoner called afterwards, and Mrs. Packer said to me, "This is the person that brought the bad half sovereign"—I sent for a constable and gave the prisoner in charge, and Mrs. Packer gave him the shilling.
JOSEPH JONES (policeman, L 154). I was fetched into the shop on 23rd Feb.; the prisoner was there, charged with passing a counterfeit shilling and a half sovereign—I received this shilling from Mrs. Packer, and the half sovereign from Mrs. Williams—the prisoner denied all knowledge of it, and said she never saw the other girl till about 9 o'clock that morning, when she met her in the Waterloo-road, and she asked her to go with her, and they went to Mrs. Williams's shop and bought a pair of stockings, and paid with a shilling, and afterwards she agreed to meet the other girl, between 2 and 3 o'clock, which she did, but she did not know it was the intention of the other girl to pass bad money—at the police station the prisoner said, "I did not pass the shilling"—Mrs. Packer said that she did—the next morning the prisoner said she had known the other girl before in the Waterloo-road.
GUILTY .** Aged 18.— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. SCRIVEN and CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE DURRE . I saw the prisoner on 13th March; he came to my shop in St. Olave's, Southwark, for half an ounce of tobacco—I served him, and it came to 1 1/2 d.; he gave me a counterfeit shilling, I gave him change, and he went away—I placed the shilling in the till, where there were four sixpences, and some coppers, but no other shilling—in about five minutes I examined the shilling, and found it was bad—I placed it in a drawer behind the counter—on the 17th the prisoner came again, he asked for half an ounce of tobacco, and tendered me a bad half crown—I examined it, and found it was bad—I locked the prisoner in the shop till I got a policeman—I said the prisoner was the boy who gave me a bad shilling on Tuesday last—the prisoner said he was not in the shop, and did not give me the shilling—I gave the shilling and the half crown to the policeman.
Prisoner. He did not have the shilling by itself; it was in a till on the right hand side of the shop; that contained ten or twelve shillings; he pulled a black bag out Witness. No, I did not; the shilling was by itself.
Prisoner. This witness saw the gentleman turn the silver out on the counter. Witness. It was taken from the drawer, but I did not see that compartment in the drawer from which the shilling was taken—I did not see a black bag and a number of shillings.
Prisoner. That man swore very false against me; when I went into his shop he accused me of giving him a shilling; he went to a drawer and took out a bag, and turned out ten or twelve shillings, and picked out one, and said I gave it him, which is false, for I never was in his shop; a man came in for some bread at the same time, and he took out this bag.
GUILTY . Aged 19.— Confined Eight Months.
MR. CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD JAMES CHITTENDEN . I drive a cab. On 6th March, the prisoner came to engage my cab. in Wilstead-street, New-road, to take him to Redcross-street, in the Borough, for 2s.; when he got there, he did not want to pay me—he was a little the worse for liquor, but he knew what he was about—he first said, "I won't pay you," and then he said, "I will give you 1s. 6d. "—he afterwards put two shillings in my hand; I told him I did not approve of one, and I had not any opinion of the other—I gave him back the one I did not approve of; he gave me another, and asked if that would do; I said, "No"—while I was talking with him, two policemen came up, and I showed them the two shillings that I then had in my hand—I do not know what became of the shilling that I had given the prisoner back—one of the policemen went with the prisoner to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. M'INTYRE. Q. When the prisoner got in the cab. was some one with him? A. Yes, another man; they both got in—I drove them both to Redcross-street, in the Borough—the prisoner appeared a little intoxicated—when he got in the cab. he got out again, to have a drop of something to drink, and some woman came up—I had 1(d. worth of gin to drink with those parties—the other man was taken to the station too—the policemen heard me disputing, and they came up and asked what it was—I did not give the prisoner in charge, it was the policeman's doing.
JAMES THOMAS SYMONS (policeman, A 493). I was on duty in Redcross-street, on the night of 6th March—I saw the last witness talking with the prisoner in the street—he said, "You agreed to give me 2s.? "I saw him give him two shillings, and the cab man said, "I don't like the look of this;" I looked at it, and it was bad—there was another man in the cab with the prisoner—I went with them in the cab to the station; the other constable was outside—on the way, I saw the prisoner put his hand to his pocket, and take out something—he put his elbow on the side of the door, put something in his mouth, and swallowed it—I searched him, and found on him a sixpence, and 2(d. in coppers, all good—this is the shilling I got from the cab man—I believe some good money was found on the other man—the prisoner was the worse for liquor.
Cross-examined. Q. You heard this dispute? A. Yes—the cabman did
not give the prisoner into custody—I told him he must go to the station with me—I was sitting alongside the prisoner in the cab—he put his right hand in his pocket—I was sitting on the left of him—I could have stopped him probably, but I did not try—I told him to take his hand out of his pocket, and he did—I believe he took something out of his pocket—I did not see what was in his hand—I saw him put his hand to his mouth.
SAMUEL FOWLER (police sergeant, M 35). I was on duty with the last witness on 6th March; I saw the dispute going on with the cab man and the prisoner—I looked at one shilling the cab man had; it was bad—this is it—I went to the station, and when I got there the mat that was inside the cab was taken out and shaken, and this shilling fell out of it—another man was taken to the station; he was taken before the Magistrate, and discharged—I found 1s. 11(d. in good money on him.
Cross-examined. Q. When this shilling was found, the mat had been taken out of the cab and shaken? A. Yes, just outside the station—it was taken out of the cab and shaken directly—both the prisoners were in the station—the prisoner was drunk.
MR. CLERK. Q. Did he give any address at the station? A. I believe he did, but I do not know—he was spoken to at the station; he sometimes gave intelligible answers, and sometimes not.
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, MAY 7TH, 1855.
The following Prisoners, upon whom the Judgment of the Court was respited at the time of Trial, have been sentenced as under:
Vol. xli. Page Sentence