CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
Taken in Short-hand,
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Rolls Chambers, 89, Chancery Lane.
SESSION I. TO SESSION VI.
GEORGE HEBERT, 88, CHEAPSIDE.
WILLIAM TYLER, PRINTER, BOLT-COURT, FLEET-STREET.
LIST OF JURORS.
On the Queen's Commission of the Peace,
OYER AND TERMINER, AND GAOL DELIVERY,
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY, WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, November 26th, 1855, and following Days.
Before the Right Hon. DAVID SALOMONS, Esq., Lord Mayor of the City of London; Sir Frederick Pollock, Knt., Lord Chief Baron of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir William Erle, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir Edward Vaughan Williams, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas: Sir James Duke, Bart., M. P.; Thomas Farncomb, Esq.; William Hunter, Esq.; and Thomas Challis, Esq., M. P., Aldermen of the said City: The Right Hon. James Archibald Stuart Wertley, Q. C., M. P., Recorder of the said City: David Williams Wire, Esq.; John Carter, Esq., F. R A. S; William Cubitt, Esq., M. P.; and Edward Eagleton, Esq., Aldermen of the said City: and Russell Gurney, Esq., Q. C., Judge of the Sheriff's Court: Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
RICHARD HARTLEY KENNEDY, Esq., Ald.
WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE, Esq., Ald.
DAVID HENRY STONE, Esq.
JAMES ANDERSON ROSE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
SALOMONS, MAYOR. FIRST SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—too 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, November 26th, 1855.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. RECORDER; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., Ald.; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; and Mr. Ald. EAGLETON.
Before Mr. Recorder and the First Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 30.— Confined Twelve Months .
PLEADED GUILTY .** Aged 23— Confined Six Months .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Six Months .
MR. ROBINSON conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES IVES . I am an assistant to William Abner Vaughan, a linen draper, of Aldgate. The male prisoner was a porter in Mr. Vaughan's service—I have seen the female prisoner at the shop—on Sunday, 11th Nov., in consequence of directions from Mr. Vaughan, I and William Bun-dock, another assistant, concealed ourselves in the shop—about 6 o'clock the male prisoner was admitted—that was the usual time for him to come to the house—I do not know who admitted him—Mr. Vaughan and his
family then left the house, and went to a place of worship—we were then in concealment in the shop, under the window—there is a partition that separates the passage of the private door from the shop—the partition is put up like shutters—when the partition is up, there is no means of getting from the passage into the shop without taking down one of the shutters—when I and Bundock concealed ourselves the partition was perfect, all the shutters were up and fastened—we were fastened up inside—we had the key of the shop door leading to the other part of the house—about 25 minutes to 7 o'clock I heard the male prisoner come down the stairs—he opened the side street door, and let the female prisoner in—I saw him through a crack between the shutters—he said to her, "You are late to-night"—she made some reply about two children—she had the child with her that she has now in her arms—they then went up stairs, to a room above the shop, and were talking between two and three minutes—I then heard the male prisoner approaching the stairs leading to the kitchen—he passed by, and went down into the kitchen, and returned with a knife in his hand—I could see that by the gas light in the passage at the top of the stairs—I then heard footsteps coming down the stairs that I had seen them go up—by means of the knife they unfastened the bolt, and took down the shutter—I could not see which did that; I had to get to my place of concealment again—the male prisoner entered the shop first—the female handed in a light, which was placed upon a stand, and then she came in herself—she then took down from a shelf two lengths of printed cotton for dresses, and laid them on the counter, close by where I was concealed—she then undid a wrapper which was on the counter, but did not take anything from it—while she was doing this, the male prisoner was in the centre of the shop, walking backwards and forwards—she then took down another wrapper, of black Coburg cloth, and cut about two yards from one of the lengths—the male prisoner went to the opposite side of the shop, brought a drawer of ribbons, and placed them on the counter, by the side or in front of the female—she then tied up the wrapper, or put the string round it, and was going to put it back into the fixture—the male prisoner made some remark about the wrapper, to which she sharply replied, "I shan't"—she put up the wrapper—she got on the ladder to do it—I could not hear what it was he said to her—she then cut lengths from several pieces of the ribbon, and wound them round her hand—they were placed with the other goods upon the counter, about a yard from where I was hid, and they both went to the opposite side of the shop—the male prisoner then reached from the top fixture of the shop a paper of wool shirts and handed them to the female—she was then holding a lighted candle—the female undid the paper, and the male asked her whether they were the right sort, and she replied they were very fine ones, and he said the paper was written on Supers, and they both laughed—the male prisoner then made some remark about leaving, as the time was up, and the child was crying up stairs—they looked through several boxes, I did not see them take anything—they then came into the centre of the shop, and the female asked for table covers—they got over the counter to the side of the shop they were first in—the female took down a wrapper of table covers, took two from them and replaced the wrapper—she then looked over several fixtures, containing lengths for dresses, of different textures, and from one she took a length of six yards of woollen and cotton stuff—she laid the various things upon her arms, and went out of the shop—before that, he asked whether there was anything else she required, that was before she took down the table covers—I believe she made some reply, but I did not hear what it was—it was after that she went and took down some table
covers—as soon as she had left the shop the male prisoner followed, behind a stand close against the opening—I then got from my place of concealment—the male prisoner left the shop—I saw the female go up stairs first with the goods on her arms—the male prisoner then put up the shutters again, and followed—he had not seen me at that time—I and bundock went up the opposite stairs which we had seen them come down, and at the top of the stairs I saw the female prisoner with the goods at her feet—I went up rather quickly—I said, "Well, Mrs. Peckham"—Bundock said, "You had better go into the room"—her husband was then in the room with the child in his arms—the female entered the room, followed by Bundock—she wished to come out to get her bonnet—I would not let her pass—we had a short scuffle there, and by force we kept her back—I locked Bundock and the two prisoners in the room from the outside, and I remained outside the door—she asked several times to be allowed to get her bonnet, and then she said, "Let us go and put the goods back, and let us both off, for my husband's sake, for it is all my fault, and not his"—she repeatedly asked me to allow her to go up or down stairs, and also the male prisoner—I declined—she was kept there until Mr. Vaughan came home—I told Bundock to look after the fire—when Mr. Vaughan came home I gave him some inform-ation—when I went into the room with Mr. Vaughan the male prisoner said, "I will bring all the goods back I have got at home"—a constable was sent for, and they were taken into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. How long have you been in Mr. Vaughan's employment? A. Eighteen months—the male prisoner was there before me—I had not seen the female prisoner very frequently, she has always been recognized as the wife of the prisoner.
WILLIAM BONDOCK . I am in Mr. Vaughan's service—I was concealed in the shop on 11th Nov.—I did not see the female prisoner go up stairs, I saw her when she was there—I told her to go into the room, and she went—I remained, there while Ives locked the door upon me—he told me to look after the fire, to which the prisoner replied that she should not think of throwing anything into the fire—I looked towards the fire and found about six yards of ribbon, the portion of two lace lappets, part of a head dress, which I took out of the fire in time to identify what the articles were—I did not throw them into the fire—there was nobody else in the room but the prisoners and the child—I did not see the female do it, she owned to it—the male prisoner said to her, "You should not do that, as it will only make it worse"—she said she should not have thought of throwing it into the fire if Ives had not put it into her head.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate were read as follows:—William Peckham says, "I am very sorry for what has happened, but the silk dress is my own." Eliza Peckham says, "I am very sorry that it should have happened; my husband has been there every Sunday, and he was learnt to open the shop with that knife, and I am very sorry for it."
WILLIAM PECKHAM— GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Twelve Months .
ELIZA PECKHAM— GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Six Months .
MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
passing along by Buckingham cottages, and passed the prisoner Thomas—" directly I had passed him, two arms came across my neck, and M'Carthy came in front of me, took my watch from my pocket, and undid the chain from my button hole—the person's hands were strangling me, and I could make no resistance or noise—after my watch was taken they let me drop, and I saw four persons running, but could not call out for a few seconds—the prisoners are two of the men who ran, and who took my watch—Thomas is the man who nearly strangled me, he was walking at the corner of the pavement as I passed, and there was another one near him with a light coloured coat on—Thomas was the only man with a dark coat, except M'Carthy; I merely got a glance of him at that time—I did not see him till he turned to run—he was the nearest to me when they let me fall—I saw him immediately before and immediately after—on the following night I was taken to see four men in custody, and identified these two; the others I only saw running—I value my watch at 5l.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Have you got it back? A. No—the baths are about a mile and a half from Buckingham cottages, they are in Rochester-row, nearly opposite the police station—it is not a solitary place, it is a street, but there are no shops—after leaving the baths I had called at one house to get the loan of a newspaper—I had a glass of ale there, as I do every Tuesday night when I go for the newspaper—it is a public house—this robbery occurred all in a minute—the man's hands did not touch my neck, he threw his arms round it, and I could not call out for assistance—when the robbery was committed all the parties made off as quick as they could—I went to the Rochester row station as soon as I could collect myself, and was sent for there again the next evening by a policeman, who told me he had taken three men on the description I had given the night before—I saw four men at the station house, I was not positive as to two of them, and they were discharged.
MR. PAYNE. Q. I understand that McCarthy was in front of you? A. Yes—I could see him plainly, he was the first I identified—there was a gas light on the opposite side of the way, and he was nearly opposite to it—it was moonlight—Buckingham cottages run into Willow row, and are opposite Coburg row—it was near the corner of Coburg row that I first saw the men, but not at the corner.
WILLIAM MILLERMAN (policeman, B 95). On Tuesday night, 23rd Oct., I saw the prisoners in the Broadway, Westminster, with two men named Mattison and Clarkey, 300 or 400 yards from Buckingham cottages—I have known them some years—it was between 7 and 8 o'clock, it might be nearly 8 o'clock—they were walking towards Rochester-row, in the direction of Buckingham cottages.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know how many yards there are in a mile? A. No—I do not know that the Broadway is nearly a mile from Buckingham-cottages.
EDWARD HOOKER (policeman, B 217). On Tuesday night, 23rd Oct., I saw M'Carthy, at a little after 8 o'clock, in the Broadway, with several men—there was a crowd there, a woman was making a disturbance, he was trying to get her away, and I was trying to take her into custody; he said that if I would let her go, he would take her home, and I allowed her to go—I also saw Thomas, between 11 and 12 o'clock, in the Broadway, with others.
Cross-examined. Q. The woman was drunk, I suppose? A. Yes.
when the prosecutor identified the prisoner!—he pointed to the tall man, and said, "That is the man who had me by the throat"—he pointed these two out the moment he entered the station, and said, "I have no doubt that the others are the parties, but cannot swear it"—that was in their hearing.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you at the station on the night when the prosecutor gave information about the robbery? A. No—I do not think there is any person here who was—I have not brought the description which was written by the officer in charge.
COURT. Q. When this was said in their presence, did either of them speak? A. Thomas said that he knew nothing about it, and M'Carthy said, after the charge was taken, that he had nothing to say.
M'CARTHY— GUILTY *† Aged 18 .—Four Years' Penal Servitude .
THOMAS— NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT—Monday, November 26th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald CUBITT; and RUSSELL GUXHEY, Esq.
Before Russell Gurney, Esq., and the Fifth Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 33.— Confined Twelve Months .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 15.— Confined One Month .
MR. LAWRENCE conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED WILLIAM HOBWOOD . I live in Paradise-row, Islimgton-green, and am a warehouseman. On 9th Nov., I was Grossing from Fleet-street to Ludgate-hill, about 5 o'clock—I saw a crowd at the obelisk—I stopped and there was a man selling gold rings for a penny apiece—a soldier was looking at one of them, which he had purchased—while I was looking at him I felt a pull at my watch chain—my watch was in my waistcoat pocket—I glanced down, and detected the prisoner taking the watch off the ring—I saw the watch in his hand—when he had got possession of the watch he darted across the road—I ran after him—he dodged amongst the cobs and omnibuses—I did not lose sight of him—I came up with him at the obelisk in Bridge-street—when I was in the act of seizing him, he gave me the watch and said, "Here you are, what is the matter?"—I attempted to seize him, but I missed him and he darted across the road—I pursued him—he attempted, to rush into the middle of the crowd—I cried, "Stop thief!" and he was caught by a man in the crowd—I never lost sight of him once—I got hold of him, and with assistance took him to the station—I gave the watch to the officer at the station—this is it.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. It was dark, was it not? A. No—
the main feature that attracted me was the soldier—it excited my curiosity—while I was looking on I felt the tug—the moment the watch was wrenched from the chain the person dodged in amongst the omnibuses—the man was in front of me—I was not standing next to the man selling the rings—there were persons between me and him—I was outside the crowd, there were very few behind me—I laid hold of the man at the opposite obelisk, in Bridge-street—directly he gave me the watch he darted away—when I seized him he was in the crowd——he had come back again—some person assisted me to take the prisoner to the station—the prisoner said at the station, "I am not the man, you are mistaken"—I was so excited that I cannot remember whether he said so in the crowd—the man who assisted me to take the prisoner to the station did not give his name in my presence—I do not know what has become of him.
MR. LAWRENCE. Q. The place where you caught the prisoner the second time was where you saw him the first time? A. Yes—but during all the time I had not lost sight of him for an instant.
JURY. Q. Did you see the face of the man that gave you the watch? A. Yes, I can take my oath the prisoner is the man that gave it to me.
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Six Months .
MR. GIFFABD conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT DRYDEX . I am a chemist, and live in Coleman-street—the prisoner has been with me nearly nine months—on Saturday, 10th Nov., I was at dinner with him—when I offered to help him a second time, he said "No," and went away—I thought it unusual to go so quickly from dinner—after he went down, I remained in the room perhaps a quarter of an hour—after that, I went down to my laboratory, and found a strong smell of sealing-wax—I looked about and found a box concealed on a shelf—it was in a place where it was not very likely to be looked for—the prisoner was then in the shop, I took the box up stairs and opened it—I found in it thirty-five parcels of drugs—one parcel contained twenty boxes and pots of patent medicines—the parcels are here, some of them have on them the writing of my former assistant who is dead—this, parcel was marked in Oct., 1851; it contains 2 lbs. weight of black cochineal—the prisoner never bought any of these goods, certainly not—I never knew of his buying anything of me—the value of these goods is from 2l. to 3l.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Some of these are patent medicines? A. Yes—here are twenty of them—they are sold at 1s. 1 1/2 d., we give 10d. apiece for them—I dined at 2 o'clock—the prisoner went down with, I think, only one help—he did not wait for the pudding—I do not suppose he took all these things in that quarter of an hour—I have no doubt he took them before—this box was put behind another box—there was fresh sealing-wax on it—here it is—I found it while the prisoner was in the shop—he did not come and ask what business I had to take it—I went out to try to get another assistant, and came back at night, and then he came and asked if I had taken a box away—I said, "Yes"—I told him they were my drugs in it, and he had stolen them—he said he had paid for them—I did not know that he had been advertising for some business, I heard that he had answered an advertisement—he sold everything in the shop and put the money in the till—he made out a paper, and gave me an account at night—he paid for small things for the house, as bread and beer,
out of the till, and kept an account—I had not these things till I found them—I have missed them now—I told the prisoner I should give him into custody on Monday, but the officer was sent for and he was takes that night—he had a written character from his master, with whom he served his apprenticeship, that he knew his business pretty well, and was steady and honest.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. What was his salary? A. Thirty guiness a-year—I paid him in August last—this box is mine—it used to tare green bottles in it.
ROBERT PACKMAN (City policeman). I went to the prosecutor's house on that night between 9 and 10 o'clock—the prisoner was brought to me, and this box—he was given in custody for stealing these drugs I told him he must consider himself in custody, and he most come to the police station—he said he had purchased them from the shop and had paid the money—I asked if he had made any memorandum of the sale, he said fee had not—I found on him 5l. 7s. in cash, some letters, and a bunch of keys—one of them unlocked his writing-desk, which was pointed out to me by the prosecutor, and in it I found thirty-five sovereigns.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe some statement was made about them, and they were given back to the prisoner?A. Yes, they were—the letters merely showed that he had replied to an advertisement from a chemist and druggist.
GUILTY . Aged 23— Confined Three Months .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Twelve Months .
MR. BALLAOTIKE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN ODGEBS . I live in Elizabeth-street, Chelsea, and keep a chandler's shop—I am sixty-six years old—about a fortnight before 19th Oct. the prisoner threw a stone at me, and struck me on my left shoulder—I went after him, he got down against the railing—I gave him two or three slaps on the head—he threw another stone which struck the bone of my left thigh—I knew him before, but did not know his name on 19th Oct he was coming down and I came out to a truck I had there—my opinion was that he was going to take my truck, and I was to catch him if I could—I told him to go away, and said, "You are a good for nothing"—I went too near him, and he struck me on my right shoulder—I fell down, and two women who were there came and said to him, "Yes are a good for nothing fellow to use an old man like that"—he took a stone and struck me with it—as I was going away I had another stone in tae back of my head, and from that I know no more.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRV. Q. Did you do nothing to this boy? A. No; the first time I was cutting some wood, and I cut my left thumb—I never did anything to him or threatened him in any way—I never called him a thief—I called him a rogue when he dragged me down on the ground—I thought he was going to take the truck, and run round the square with it—some boys had done that before—I am not in the habit of threatening the boys, saying that I will beat them—there is a stonemason's yard there, and the man told me if I saw any boys there to keep them off—I have not
frequently called them names—I have said, "You good for nothing boys, go away n—I have not shaken my stick at them—I do not think the boys are angry because I will not let them throw stones—they are angry because I will not let them come in at the corner of my shop through the rail—boys have been in the habit of meeting in the stone-yard, and they make parties and throw stones at each other.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. How did you lose your leg? A. I had it shot off in the battle of Waterloo, and several pieces of bone have been taken out of my side from a wound at the battle of Talavera—I have a bullet in my left side now.
ANN WATT . I saw the prisoner throw a stone at the last witness, which truck him on the shoulder, and another that struck him on the head—he fell down insensible—I went to the prisoner, and said, "You bad boy; do you see what you have done?"—he said, "If you say a word I will serve you in the same way, you bitch."
GUILTY** of unlawfully wounding . Aged 15.— Confined Six Months .
MR. LOCKE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN HOWELL . I am the prisoner's brother. I was present on 17th Nov., 1833, at Hinchford, in Wiltshire, when he was married to Mary Ann Mining—he lived with her about four years, as near as I can recollect—he then left her—I was not living at that place—they had one child—I saw him in London about four years ago, and spoke to him.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. When did he leave his wife? A. Three or four years after they were married—I do not know what furniture he left—I know he went to sea—I think he was gone four years—I heard when he came back—he did not come to us—he resided in London—I cannot say how many years ago it is—he has been in the police force since—I was present at his marriage, and saw the ceremony performed in the church—I do not know anything of his second wife, I only saw her when I came to the Exhibition, in 1851.
MR. LOCKE. Q. You say he left his wife about four years after he was married, and then he was at sea for four years? A. Yes—I think his wife was living at Pottery—the prisoner did not come back there—his wife is living—I saw her last Thursday week.
SARAH ANN HANDFORD . I live in Maiden-lane. On 26th Feb., 1846,1 was married to the prisoner at Paddington church—he was then a police constable, and stated that he was a widower; it is so in the certificate—he was married in the name of James Howell—after I had been married about four years, I heard about a former wife of his—I told him of it, and he said he would rather lie in prison and rot, than such a woman as that should have any of his money—I went into the country, and saw his wife in the last week in August in this year—I went on living with him—he was always receiving letters from his sister—I had no conversation with him respecting these letters, I merely told him he ought to send something to his wife, and to support his child, and he said he never would—those letters are destroyed—I did not ask him how he came to marry me, having a wife—I only told him I considered he had been a rogue to her and to me—he made no particular answer, only that he never would allow her anything.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know he was married when you married him? A. I did not—I heard that he was married about four years after wards—that would be about 1850—I went down to his first wife, and was introduced to her as a friend of the prisoner's sister—I did not tell her I was the second wife—I came back to London, and continued to live with the prisoner—I had seen letters from time to time from the sister.
Q. Did you not go down four years and a quarter ago? A. Not to see the wife—I went to where the brother lived—that is about six years from this time—that was not to make inquiries about the first wife—I was introduced to his brother as his wife—I saw the brother, and at that time I knew the first wife was alive, from verbal hearing—the prisoner was in the police, and I kept the lodge of the Small-pox Hospital—I am there still—I know a person named Skidmore, a policeman—I do not live with him—he lives at the station—I never was out walking with him in my life—the prisoner never charged me with allowing him to kiss me, and to put his hand round my neck—we had some friends, and he was one; and when I let him out at the gate, he stooped down towards me, but he did not kiss me—there was not 30l. in the Savings Bank that the prisoner saved—he saved nothing—what I had there was what I put in—I got it by work at laundry business—the money was in my name, the name the prisoner gave me—I did not go to the Savings Bank with Skidmore—he did not know that I had it, that I know of—I have never walked with Skidmore out of my own house—he has not been there when my husband has been away—I am not aware that he has been once when I have been alone—I never went to the Saving Bank with him about this money—I have never quarreled about this money—I employed Hancock to get the register—Skidmore did not introduce him to me—he never saw the man.
NOT GUILTY .
THOMAB SANDS . I am landlord of the Weavers' Arms, in Church-street, Bethnal-green. On the night of 1st Nov. the shutter was fastened with four bolts—I was aroused by my daughter about half-past 12 o'clock—I came down—the prisoner was in custody of the police—the shutter had been pulled down—the four bolts had been forced out—it was the shutter that leads to the skittle ground.
Prisoner. Q. It was the skittle ground? A. Yes—it leads from the skittle ground to the cellar and to the staircase.
HENRY HOSTLER . I am barman to the prosecutor. On the night; of 1st Nov. I was in the house, and about half past 12 o'clock I heard the shutter broken down—I listened for a moment, and heard him at the stair foot door—I ran to the door at the top of the stairs, and still heard him trying to force the door open at the foot of the stairs, which leads into the house—the skittle ground is under the house—it was formerly a kitchen—I called the policeman, and went down, and found the prisoner in the skittle ground, behind the door.
Prisoner. I asked for a night's lodging. Witness. No—on the door were found marks of a chisel, used to try to force the door open.
CHARLES BUTLER (policeman, H 121). I was on duty, near the house, on 1st Nov.—I was called, and found the prisoner in the cellar behind the door—I nearly knocked him backwards—he said, "All right, George; I came here for a night's lodging"—I found this life preserver in his right hand coat pocket, and in his left coat pocket this hammer and hisel—there was a mark on the all where the shutter had been forced open—there had been a fence broken down to get into this place—on the window were the marks of the chisel.
Prisoner. I did not go with any bad intent; I went for a lodging.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY . Aged 32.— Confined Twelve Months .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, November 27th, 1835.
PRESENT—Sir JAMES DUKE, Bart., Aid.; Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. CUBITT.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Second Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY , and received a good character. Aged 17.— Confined Twelve Months .
15. PHILIP HUSTWAITE , WILLIAM READER , EDWARD LOCK , and JOHN HILL , stealing 801/2 lbs. weight of beef; and a cloth, value 2l. 12s., the property of Frederick Wilson, the master of Hustwaite and Reader: to which.
READER PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Six Months .
MR. GIFFAUD conducted the Prosecution.
SAMUEL COOMBS (City policeman, 16). I watched the promise of Mr. Wilson, in Mason's-alley, in company with Watkins, on Friday morning, 16th Nov.—I was there a little before 6 o'clock—about 10 minutes past 6 o'clock I saw Lock and Hill come up in a chaise cart, it stopped near Mason's-alley, Basinghall-street—I saw them come out of the cart, and go up Mason's-alley, one at a time—I saw one of them tog the bell belonging to Mr. Wilson's house—I then went and fetched Watkins—he was in Cole-man-street at that time—I told him what I had seen—they stopped there perhaps ten minutes altogether—I had watched them a few minutes before I went to fetch Watkins—as soon as I saw one ring the bell, I went to fetch Watkins—I came back with Watkins—they were still in the court, but not at the door—they were in Basinghall-street when Watkins came up, they were in and out of the court—I saw them first looking up at Mr. Wilton's house to see if anybody was getting up—the shop was closed—when I came back with Watkins they were in the act of getting into the cart again, and they drove off—they were there altogether full ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—on Saturday morning, the 17th, I was on the watch, a little before half past 4 o'clock—about half past 5 o'clock I saw Lock and Hill come up in the chaise cart, they stopped in Basinghall-street, near Mason's-alley—the moment the cart stopped, Reader ran down the court—I did not see where he came from, he came down Mason's-alley, from the direction of Mr. Wilson's house—the cart was not visible from the
place from which Reader came, it was near enough for the sound of the wheels to be heard—either Lock or Hill said, "Are you ready)"—Reader said, "All right!" and ran up the alley, and at that moment Hustwaite brought two pieces of beef on his shoulder and dropped them into the cart—that was within two or three seconds—it was all done in a moment, altogether it did not take half a minute from the time the cart stopped—I ran across the road and took Hustwaite and Header into custody—Reader had then come back, he followed Hustwaite—Hill, or Lock, I do not know which, was out of the cart, and had put down the tail board, the other was sitting in the cart—Watkins took them into custody—they were all taken at one time—Watkins went to the head of the cart, and I ran to the tail—we took the prisoners to the station with the cart and the beef—the beef weighed 801/2 lbs.—Lock said, "I met a man, and he asked me to give him a lift to Leaden hall market; there was no meat in the cart when I stopped there"—when Hustwaite brought the meat on his shoulder there was no cloth round it—I had not seen either of the prisoners that morning before the cart drew up—the prosecutor's shop was open, I did not see any one in the shop—I could see the shop from where I stood, I did not go up Mason's alley—I saw Hustwaite come out to hang the meat up, and I saw Reader—that was before 5 o'clock—I saw Hustwaite hang the meat up, but not Reader—I saw him in and out of the shop—the shop was opened about 5 o'clock, or a little before—I omitted to state that on the Friday, the second time I saw the prisoners Lock and Hill, I saw one of them ring the bell twice.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE (for Hustwaits). Q. Did Reader bring any meat down? A. No—all the meat that was brought down was brought by Hustwaite at one time—there was no cloth over it at all—before the cart came up I saw Reader outside the shop, and I also saw a little boy several times.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY (for Lock). Q. Do I distinctly understand you to say that you saw Lock on the Friday morning? A. I did—the Magistrate said something about that at the police court, but I do not recollect the precise words—I do not remember his saying anything about admitting Lock to bail—he wanted bail, and bail was refused—the Magistrate was not about to admit him to bail, to my knowledge—I could not say that he was not—I am a detective officer—I do not wear a uniform—I have been a detective officer fourteen years next Feb.—to my knowledge, the Magistrate was not about admitting Lock to bail—Lock asked for bail—I did not hear the Magistrate or the solicitor say anything about bail—the Magistrate said something to me—I did not hesitate a long time before I gave an answer—I swear that—I do not recollect that I hesitated at any time—the name of Edward Lock was on the cart—his address is, Howlandstreet, Tottenham Court-road—I believe be is a butcher—I cannot say that he is—I have seen him in the shop—I did not see his name at the shop—I only know that he was carrying on the business of a butcher there, from what he stated, and from what was on the cart—there were two names on the cart—I think the other name was Scaarfe—1 cannot swear that Lock's name was not on the house in Howland-street—I went there to make inquiry—Mason's-alley leads from Basinghall-street into White Rose-court, and White Rose-court leads into Coleman-street.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON (for Hill). Q. Was Hill dressed as he is-now? A. I think he was; I will not be certain—the other prisoners were dressed as they are now—I think Lock had on the same dress; it was a butcher's
address—I cannot tell whether Hill had on a gray coat, as he has now, or a blue one, but I believe it was the same.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Was the cart you saw on Friday morning the same they drove up in on the Saturday morning? A. I have every reason to believe so.
GEORGE WATKINS (City policeman, 660). I was watching with Coombs on the Friday morning—about 10 minutes past 6 o'clock I was fetched by Coombs from Coleman-street to Basinghall-street—I there saw a horse and cart—I saw Lock and Hill get up into the cart, and drive away towards Gresham-street—on Saturday morning, about half past 5 o'clock, I was in company with Coombs in Basinghall-street—I saw a horse and cart come down Basinghall-street, and Lock and Hill in it—it stopped at the corner of Mason's-alley—Header came out of the alley to the cart, and said, "Are you ready?"—Hill said, "All right," and he got out of the cart, undid the tail board, and put it down, and Hustwaite came out of the cart, with two pieces of beef on his shoulder, and put them on the cart—I then went across with Coombs, and took Hill and Lock into custody, and with the assistance of Jordan, another constable, who came up on the rattle being sprung, I took them to the station—I saw a cloth in the cart, which I have here (producing it)—that cloth was not put into the cart with the meat.
Gross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. You did not see the cart at all at Mason's-alley on the Friday? A. Yes, I did—it was standing in Basing-hall-street, about three yards from the corner of Mason's-alley—I did not see it drive up—it was standing still—I saw Lock and Hill get into it—I saw it arrive on the Saturday morning.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was Hill dressed as he is now? A. Something similar—I was from eight to ten yards from him when I heard the expressions used—Coombs was nearer to the cart than I was—I do not know that he could hear better than I could—perhaps he is not so quick of hearing—I have not heard him give his evidence to-day—I do not know that he has stated that he did not know which used the words, "Are you ready?"—I say it was Reader who said so, and Hill answered, "All right"—Lock was driving—I swear it was Hill, and not Lock, who answered, "All right"—I was in front of them—I saw Hill get out of the cart and undo the tail board—I had not my police dress on—6l. 14s. 11d. was found upon Lock.
COURT. Q. Where did you and Coombs conceal yourselves, or were you visible to the men? A. We were standing in the shade, by the Bankruptcy Court—I was in a dark doorway, and Coombs was about four yards off, standing in the shade—nobody could discern him—they did not drive past where we were.
ROBERT NICHOLL (City policeman, 165). On Friday morning, 16th Nov., I was on duty in Mason's-alley, and about 10 minutes past 6 o'clock I saw Lock and Hill—I spoke to Lock first, as he was in the court, against Mr. Wilson's door—he said, "Good morning; it is rather cold"—I said, "Yes, it is"—he said, "They are up rather late this morning"—I said, "Yes, they are; I cannot make it out how the chaps will get on about going to market"—he said, "I cannot make it out"—I went down the court, and saw Hill standing on the right hand side of the horse's head, as the horse's head was towards Greshara-street—he paid, "Good morning; it is rather cold"—I went up the alley again, and I saw Lock pull the handle of the bell of Mr. Wilson's shop—I went down to the bottom of the court, as far as Coleman-street, and came back again, and stood in the arch that parts
Mason's-alley and White Rose-court—Lock walked down the they—I followed him, and they both got into the cart, and went away.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. Were you in your uniform? A. Yes—I did not take a drop of anything with them—there would have been a great deal of harm in it if I had been caught—they stayed there altogether from ten minutes to a quarter of an hour.
FREDERICK WILSON . 1 am the proprietor of the shop in Mason's-alley; Hustwaite and Header have been in my employment as journeymen, Hust-waite for about one month, and Reader about three months—they slept in a room in the house—I do not reside there, except occasionally—there is a door bell which communicates with their bedroom—on Friday morning I returned to the shop from market, about half past 6 o'clock—I found the shop closed—I endeavoured to ring the prisoners' bell, and wondered that it did not sound—after making two attempts to ring it, I rang the house bell—this cloth produced is mine—I was not at all acquainted with Lock and Hill—I saw the meat that was taken in the cart—it was mine—I saw it at the police station in Moor-lane, and recognised it immediately—it weighed 80 1/2 lbs., and was worth 2l. 10s. 4d—Hustwaite and Reader had no authority from me to remove the meat.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. I suppose if meat was sold in the shop they would be the persons to carry it to the cart? A. If I expressly ordered it—they were not authorised to sell anything—I am a retail butcher—the foreman sells in the shop, and occasionally the men sell small portions, not any large quantities—Hustwaite has sold, by my authority, three or four pounds at a time, nothing exceeding ten pounds—I should not find fault with him captiously for selling more, not without reason—eighty pounds is a large quantity to sell at one time—I do sell as much as that in weight, but not in form—I never send meat to market.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. What was there about the form of the meat? A. It was as it came from market, not cut, or trimmed, or made ready to send away—it was not in a state in which meat is sold retail.
COURT. Q. Where did you find Hustwaite and Reader the morning you could not make the bell ring? A. They were in bed—I heard them come down stairs after I got in—they should have been down before 6 o'clock—the shop is opened at 6 o'clock—the meat was in a state in which it would be sold at market.
JEREMIAH GRIFFITH . I am in Mr. Wilson's employment On Thursday night, 15th Nov., I was outside the shop from 7 to 8 o'clock, and saw Lock and Hill come through White Rose-court—Hustwaite went and spoke to them in Mason's-alley—Hustwaite then returned to the shop, and they passed and went to the Butler's Head public house—Hustwaite followed them and went in also—I saw no more of them that night—on the Friday night, I saw them again, between 7 and 8 o'clock—they came through White Rose-court, and Hustwaite went and spoke to them in the court, and then returned to the shop in the same way as before—they came through Mason's alley this time—I took off the bell on the Thursday afternoon—we went up to clean ourselves, and we generally used to smoke there, and I took off the bell that we should not be disturbed, and I forgot to put it back.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. You were not examined before the Magistrate, were you? A. No—I first told my master of this, I think, on the Monday after the prisoners were locked up On the Saturday—I was not called in to say anything about it before.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. What distance were you from Lock and Hill when you saw Hustwaite go up to them? A. I think six or seven yards—I did not hear what was said.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate being read, Hustwaits and Header said nothing—Lock said, "I deny receiving the meat knowing it to be stolen property. I left my home this morning at half-past 5 o'clock with the intention of visiting Leadenhall-market; when I was going down Coleman-street, this person (Hustwaite) stopped me, and asked me if I ould give him a lift as far as Leadenball-market. I said yes; he said, 'I have some meat to take, will you take me up at the end of Mason's-alley?' I accordingly went there, and they put the meat into the cart I never said, 'Is it all right?' or, 'Are you ready?' then the officer came and took charge of the meat, and likewise of me. I deny knowing it to be stolen." Hill said, "I have been staying with this young man (Lock) about two or three days, and he asked me if I would go down to the market this morning, and ride with him. I was in the cart at the time that the young man asked Lock to give him a lift with the meat; we then came round to the corner of Mason's-alley, Basinghall-street, when the other young man put the meat into the cart, and I deny anything at all of knowing of its being stolen."
(The prisoners received good characters.)
HUSTWAITE— GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Eighteen Months .
LOCK— GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Eighteen Months .
HILL— GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Eighteen Months .
MR. RYLAND conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE JAMES WARD . I am a sergeant in the London Militia, and live at Providence-row, Hoxton. On Wednesday evening, 23rd Oct., I was returning home with my wife, at a little after 12 o'clock, perhaps a quarter past—my wife was some few yards behind me—the prisoners came up, and said, "Oh! you have got a top coat on, but still we can see you belong to the militia; do you want any recruits?"—I said, "Well, if you are inclined to enlist, you had better make application at Oliver's yard, I will see you there to-morrow morning"—that is the depot for the militia—they then walked on, the same way with me, and suddenly Boyce, the tall man, made a spring upon me, and pinioned me against the railings of the church—he was in front of me, and held the railing, with his arm under my throat, to prevent my hallooing, and my head against the railings—I was helpless, and the other person then tore my watch from my trowsers pocket; it was attached by an Albert chain, which they broke, and got the watch—I had, as near as I can guess, 12s. 6d. in, my jacket pocket—I distinctly felt his hand in that pocket, and afterwards missed the money—my wife screamed very loudly, and Boyce left go of me and seized her, and then I seized Rush worth by the neck handkerchief; there was a considerable scuffle between us, and I got my watch out of his hand—I had him on the ground, and Boyce was kicking me violently about the body and head, to make me let go of Rushworth—I did not get my money back, Rushworth got up and ran; I ran after him, met a policeman, and he was taken into custody—I was weakened by the kicking, and could not hold Rushworth any longer—I was down in the mud with him—a policeman met us both running, and stopped us both—after I had been before the Magistrate next day, and preferred the charge against Rushworth, I saw Boyce in the waiting
room—I knew him directly I saw him—my wife was in the waiting room—I went back again before the Magistrate, and made the same charge against Boyce, and they were both committed.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How long have you been in the militia? A. Three years—I was a soldier before, in India, in the 2nd Madras European Light Infantry, for seven years—I was invalided—before I was at Madras, I was in the 2nd battalion Rifle Brigade for eighteen months, as near as I can guess—I was a journeyman shoemaker, and worked with my father in London when I was fifteen or sixteen, and I enlisted—between the time of my being sent home and my enlisting, I was working as a shoemaker for my brother, but I gave that up and entered the militia when I saw an opportunity of doing better—a sergeant in the militia has 2s. a day continual—a female friend of my wife's had been with us on this night, and had left us a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes; we had accompanied her home to her situation, and were making the best of our way towards Pitfield-street—my wife was a few yards behind me—I do not know whether she could have heard the first conversation—the prisoners addressed me first, I had not opened my lips to them—there was a female there very respectably dressed, I do not know whether she was Boyce's wife; she was walking close to them, but whether she belonged to them I cannot say—my watch was in my trowsers under my red jacket—they were two or three minutes getting it away, the chain came through a button hole, and passed into this pocket—Boyce had me pinned one or two minutes, that was quite long enough, it very nearly strangled me—my wife called out very lustily—the watch must have been pulled in a very violent manner, for it pulled a button off—when Bush-worth had got the money and watch, he was turning away from me very sharply when I caught him by his neck handkerchief—I did not hear him charge me with committing an assault on him, he said nothing about an assault in my hearing—we went to the policeman together, nearly abreast—I attended twice before the Magistrate—on my oath I did not say as I was leaving the Court, either to a comrade or sergeant, "This is a bad job for me"—(Mrs. Ruskworth was here called into Court)—did not say so in the presence of that old lady—I may have alluded to my work; I had left it in a very irregular way, a party came to me about it, and I said that it was a bad job—I did say that it was a bad job, but in connection with my work—I said so to my friend outside the Court altogether, in Worship-street, but nothing connected with the prisoners—I have stated before about their kicking me, and my being exhausted; that I swear—I also stated that I had a top coat on.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you say, "If I had you on parade I would give you a good drilling?" A. No, nor anything of the kind—I will swear I did not hear Rushworth say that he would give me in custody—I was very ill and exhausted, and fell from exhaustion at the policeman's feet—I was severely beaten and bruised, and had lumps on my head as big as an egg—I will not swear that he did not say he would give me into custody—when I was giving my evidence before the Magistrate, I did not see Boyce sitting close to the reporters' box, but he might have been sitting there—(the witness's deposition being read, stated: "While I was giving my evidence, I saw Boyce sitting on the form near the reporters' box, but I thought I should know him better when I saw him with his hat on; I said nothing then, we then went into the waiting room.")
Q. What did you mean when I put that very question to you, by saying
that you saw nothing of the sort? A. I saw him standing, not sitting—I did not see Boyce come to the station that very night that I was there, for the purpose of bailing Rush worth for an assault in consequence of a row between him and me—I did not see him there either standing or sitting I did not speak to him that night, and never saw him at all.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You have heard the deposition read over, and there is not a single word about Boyce kicking you, or your being exhausted by kicking? A. Neither do I wish that to be urged, only that I was asked what made me fall at the policeman's feet—I believe I said before the Magistrate, that I was very much ill-treated—from the particular way in which you wanted to know all the particulars of the matter to-day, I thought I was at liberty to say the way I was ill-used—I did not tell the Magistrate that there was a lump on my head as big as an egg, I only said that I was very much ill-treated—I do not think my wife and I have talked about this matter twice.
MR. RYLAND. Q. Is it true that you did see Boyce standing against the reporters' box when you were giving your evidence against Rush worth? A. Yes—I did not point him out, because I was then giving evidence; when I had given my evidence, I went into the waiting room, saw him with his hat on, and gave him in charge—when I said, "It is a bad job for me," I meant that they ought not to have given work out in that way; I had left some work, to come and give evidence.
COURT. Q. Look at Boyce now; have you any doubt that he is the man? A. Not at all—my work is manufacturing boots and shoes when I am off duty—I have been a sergeant about nine months—sergeants are selected according to good behaviour in previous regiments, and their ability in drilling.
EMMA WARD . I am the prosecutors wife. I went with him to see a friend home, and having left her at her residence we were going home—as we passed the railings of Hoxton church my husband was about four yards in advance of me, and I saw Boyce holding him by the collar or throat, and Rushworth doing something to him, but I could not see what—my husband had his back to the iron rails and could make no resistance in the way he was held—I got between them, and said, "Let him alone, he is my husband"—Boyce instantly left go of him, and took me by the shoulders and held me tightly, and Rushworth instantly struck my husband in the face across my shoulders-there was a struggle between them—after that I called "Help!" as loud as I could—I heard my husband say to Rushworth, "You wretch, you have got my watch;" they then struggled together, and both fell on the ground—I then got from Boyce, and tried to help my husband off the ground, but Rushworth seized me by the throat, and with his disengaged hand struck me on the head—I did not fall, but Boyce then took hold of me again by the shoulder, and I called, "Police!"—Rushworth then ran, and my husband pursued him, crying, "Police!" and "Stop thief!"—I did not see what became of Boyce, I saw nothing of him till next day, when I was before the Magistrate—he was there sitting on a form near the reporters' box, and I thought I knew him as one of the men, but I was rather flurried, and did not speak of it; the Magistrate asked me if I should know him again, and I told him, "Yes"—I saw him again with his hat on, and was then certain that he was the man who held me the night before—I and my husband then went back and gave evidence against him—my husband works for the regiment, and had some work on his hands at that time—I know that he left work to go before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How long have you been married to him? A. Fifteen years—I have not been in India with him, but he was a soldier in the East India Company's service when I was married to him—I did not see either of the men go up to him, and do not know how it first began—there was a woman there—she might be respectably dressed—I cannot say whether she was with these men—she was a distance from them—she might have been as far as two yards from them at the time I came up—I mean to say that I did not see when these two men stopped my husband first—I did not see them walking any distance along with him—if they walked with him three or four yards, I cud not see them, and I should think I must have if they had—Boyce had hold of my husband when they came close up—I went immediately between them, and separated them—it was after that that Rushworth struck my husband in the face across my shoulder—I did not see my husband seize hold of Rushworth after the blow in the face—I was between them when the blow was struck, but I was moved on one side by Boyce—I did not see my husband strike him—I never saw him raise his hand—it was after he received the blow that I heard him say, "You wretch, you have got my watch"—Boyce, in point of fact, took hold of me, and took me away, and then the two men were able to get together—I saw the policeman take them—he had my husband in one hand, and the prisoner in the other, but my husband was so exhausted that he Was obliged to sit down—I did not hear Rushworth make a charge against my husband—I swear that—I did not hear Rushworth say, "I will charge this man," or, "I will give you into custody;" nothing of the kind—the charge was entered at the station against Rushworth—I do not know that Boyce followed to the station—I went to the station next day, and heard my husband give his evidence before the Magistrate—he had not told me what he was going to swear—we had not talked about it first, no more than the truth—he did not tell me what he was going to say to the Magistrate—we merely talked about our own affairs, and how we were ill-used the night before—we have not been talking it over since the prisoners were committed.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How near were you to your husband when the policeman had hold of him with one hand, and of Rushworth with the other? A. I might be about a yard distant—I did not hear Boyce say, "I will give you into custody"—I cannot swear that it was not said—it was 12 o'clock at night—we had supper before we left home—there was a pint of beer to drink between the two of us—there were more than two of us, but the other had nothing of the kind—we had nothing after supper, and went straight with this friend of mine to her home—we had nothing at any public house on the way.
MR. RYLAND. Q. Were you or your husband drunk? A. No, not in the least—it is a thing that I never do.
REYNOLD EASTLAND (policeman, N 206). On Wednesday night, 24th Oct., between 12 and 1 o'clock, I was on duty in the New North-road, Hoxton—I heard a cry of "Police!" and "Stop thief!"—I waited a little while and then saw the prisoner Rushworth and the prosecutor running towards me—I stepped into the road, and took hold of Rushworth with one hand, and the prosecutor with the other, and said, "Hold on! where are you going to?"—Rushworth said, "I give this man in charge"—the prosecutor said, "I will give this man in charge for stealing my watch"—I then took the prisoner to the station—the prosecutor was all over mud and dirt, and his hair hung all over his face, and smothered with mud—he looked as if he
had been straggling about in the mud—the watch was delivered to me at the station by Ward—I produce it now.
COURT. Q. In what state was Ward when he came up to you? A. He was out of breath, he could hardly speak—the chain was broken when he gave me the watch—I was at the police court next morning—I was present when Ward and his wife pointed out Boyce, and he was taken into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Then Rushworth charged Ward first? A. He said he would give him in charge, he did not say what for—Ward did not show me the watch at the time he said "I give this man in charge for stealing my watch"—he showed me the chain, it was in his hand—he did not charge him with stealing any money at that time, he did at the station—Rushworth was searched—I do not think any money was found upon him, I am not quite sure—a pocket book and a key were found upon him—I do not know anything about the money—I cannot tell whether there is any other policeman here who can tell, the reserve man is outside—I did not say that no money was found on him, I said I did not know—I did not search him myself, the reserve man did—I did search him—the reserve man searched him, and I searched him as well.
COURT. Q. Who searched him first? A. I searched him first—I cannot say whether I found any money on him or not—I have been a little better than twelve months in the police—I searched him to see what he had got in his pockets—I do not know whether I found any money upon him or not—I do not recollect anything about the money—I know he had a pocket book, and a key, and a bit of tobacco—I did not see the reserve man search him.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you take Boyce into custody? A. I did—I took some papers and letters from him—I did not open them to see what was in them, they went from me to the station house—I do not know what has become of them, I left them at the station with the sergeant—I do not know what sergeant was in at the time—Boyce's wife has not repeatedly applied to me for her marriage certificate and other papers, nor have I said that I did not care for any Magistrate, I would not give them up to her—I said they must come to the station for them—I do not know whether she has been there for them, I am not always there—she has not been three times and asked me for them, nor have I said that I did not care for any Magistrate, I would not give them back—the prisoners lived at No. 12, Haberdasher-street—I went and asked if they did live there, and was told they did—they both lived there—they lived together there, so they told me—it is not close to Hoxton Church, it is in the neighbourhood.
Q. After Boyce had been brought in before the Magistrate, and Ward and his wife had given evidence against him, did not Boyce say, "Why not give me into custody when I went to the station house last night as a witness, and I came here this morning as I could tell how the row began?" A. I heard him say, "Why not give me into custody when I went to the station?" but I cannot say about the other part—I cannot say that I heard him say, "I came here this morning as I could tell how the row began"—I cannot swear he did not say it, but I do not recollect it.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM GEORGE JUDGE (police sergeant, N 26). I was on duty at the station house on the night in question, when Ward came and made a charge against Rushworth—I recollect Boyce coming in, I suppose that was about two or three minutes after the charge was taken—I believe Ward had left
the station at that time—I should suppose the charge had taken about ten minutes, not longer—when Boyce came, he asked mo whether I could take bail—I told him it was a case of felony, and I could not take bail—this was almost immediately after the charge had been booked—until the charge has been entered we do not allow persons unconnected with the matter to come into the station.
COURT. Q. Do you mean that if a friend of the party came and said the charge was all wrong, you would not allow him to come in and state it? A. No, until the charge had been taken we should not allow them in the station—we should admit them into the station at the time, but if we found they were unconnected with the charge, we should require them to go out until the charge was taken.
MR. PAYNE. Q. Supposing Boyce and his wife had come there after the parties had gone in to make the charge and the door was shut, should you let them in? A. Not during the time the charge was being taken—we generally allow the complaining parties in the station, and the others remain outside—if the friends of a party came, I should hear what their statement was—we let in the complaining party in the first instance and the prisoner, but not any witnesses for the prisoner in the first instance, if we know it—the door is shut the moment the policeman brings in a prisoner—if there was anybody outside who said "We have a charge to make against the other man, his charge his false," I should hear what they said—it was about two or three minutes after the charge was taken against Rushworth that Boyce came in.
Cross-examined by MR. RYLAND. Q. Was it after the prosecutor had gone away? A. I believe it was—if Boyce had come in while the prosecutor had been there, I should have heard what he had to say—I believe the prosecutor had gone away when Boyce came in—the reserve man is here and can speak to that more positively—if anybody had come in to make a charge against the prosecutor, I should have heard what they had to say.
COURT. Q. Did you take the charge? A. I did—after the prosecutor had made his statement, Rushworth said, "I shall also charge you with assaulting me"—I did not take that charge, I could not, because I had began to take the other charge before he made that statement to me—if he had wanted to make a charge against the prosecutor, I should have referred him to the police court in the morning.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you search Rushworth? A. No, I believe Eastland did—Sadler, the reserve man, is here.
HENRY SADLER (policeman, N 317). I saw Eastland come to the station on this night with Rushworth—I am not aware that he searched him, my attention was directed to the door—it was Eastland's duty to search him—I am not aware that there was any one else there whose duty it would he to search him—I do not know anything about what was found upon him, I had nothing to do with it—I kept the door—Boyce came about two or three minutes after the charge was taken, the parties had then all left the station—we were about ten minutes taking the charge.
COURT. Q. Are you the reserve man? A. I was the reserve man that night—my duties are to attend to the prisoners after they are locked up, and to attend to the door—the constable who brings a prisoner in, is the man who generally searches him—I do not know whether it would have been Eastland's duty to search Rushworth, it was not mine, I did not search him—it would have been Eastland's duty.
MRS. RUSHWORTH. I am the prisoner's mother—my son ceased to
live with me about twelve months ago—he is not married, he was going to be married about fourteen months ago and took a house in Brett's-buildings, Hoxton, but the young person he was engaged to for some years was taken ill, and died in eighteen hours—I cannot explain exactly his connection with Boyce, I know that he had lodgers.
SAMUEL EDWARDS . I am a cabinet maker, and live in Castle-street, Bethnal-green road. I have known Rushworth twenty-two years, he has always borne the character of an honest, respectable young man—we were brought up boys together—I was apprenticed to his father, and we have always been together up to the very day of his being taken into custody—I knew of his intended marriage, as his mother has stated, and knew the young person he was keeping company with—she has been dead about twelve months—I think that was about the time he took the house in Brett's-buildings—the young person dying, and the house being too large for him, he let some apartments to Boyce and his wife—they had the two parlours and remained there about three months—he then gave up the house because the rent was too heavy—Boyce and his wife took apartments in Haberdasher-street, and Rushworth went there to live with them, I have seen him there—Mrs. Boyce is in Court now.
(Several other witnesses deposed to the good character of both the prisoners).
JURY to G. J. WARD. Q. You said that you got the watch back in the struggle, can you explain how you got it back? A. I got it back in a severe struggle, that was my principal object, to get the watch—I took it out of his right hand while I was on the ground—this piece of chain was linked in with the ring of the watch, I took it from his hand at the same time as the watch, the rest of the chain I have never seen since.
RUSHWORTH— GUILTY . Aged 32.
BOYCE— GUILTY . Aged 28.
(Very strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of their good characters.)— Judgment respited .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 27th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald EAGLETON and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Russell Gurney, Esq., and the Sixth Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Nine Months .
BILLIP PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Nine Months .
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN FRISBY . My father keeps a greengrocer's shop, in Gray's Inn-lane—I was in the shop about a quarter past 10 o'clock on 27th Oct.—Billipi came in for a cauliflower, it came to 2 1/2 d.—he gave me a half crown, I gave him 2s. 3 1/2 d. change, and he left—I sounded the half crown, and sent it out for change by the shop boy—he brought me 2s. 6d.—shortly after-wards the prisoner Johnson came in for a bunch of turnips—they were 3d.
—she gave me a half crown, I gave her one shilling and two sixpences—I had not any halfpence—I sent the boy with that half crown for change—while he was gone Johnson seemed in a great hurry, and said she would take a head of celery for the other 3d.—she took the celery, and went away before the boy returned—he returned almost immediately afterwards brought the two half crowns back, and said they were bad—I took them to the station, and gave them to Gardner.
GEORGE OLIVER M'CANN . I am shop boy to the last witness. On Saturday, 27th Oct, the prisoner Billip came in and gave a half crown to the last witness—she sent me to get change—I went to Mrs. Manning's, and got the change from her, and gave it to my mistress—I was present when Johnson came in for a bunch of turnips, and she gave a half crows to my mistress—she gave it me to get change, and I went and gave that to Mr. Manning—he said it was bad, and gave it me back, and he went to the till and gave me another out—I did not lose sight of the last half crown that I took there, I did of the first—I took them both back, and gave there to Mrs. Frisby—I then went to look for the prisoners—I saw them both together in Leather-lane—I pointed them out to the constable, and gave them in charge.
WILLIAM GARDNER (policeman, G 127). On Saturday night, 27th Oct, the last witness pointed out the two prisoners—they were together, in Leather-lane—I took them into custody, and told them it was for uttering two bad half crowns—Johnson said she knew nothing at all about it—I took them to the station, searched Billip, and took from his hand a piece of paper containing four counterfeit half crowns—Mrs. Frisby gave me these other two half crowns.
Johnson's Defence. Billip gave me the money, and told me to go to the shop; I did not know they were bad.
JOHNSON— GUILTY . Aged 24.— Confined Six Months .
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
JOACHIM MATTHIS . I keep the Rose and Crown, in George-street, St. George's in the East. On 27th Oct I was serving, between 9 and 10 o'clock—the prisoner came, and called for half a pint of beer—I served him—he put me down a sixpence, I weighed it, and found it was bad—I told him so—he said, "If you don't like it I will give you another"—I suspected him, sent for a constable, and gave him into custody with the sixpence.
MICHAEL DUFFY (policeman, H 85). I was called by the last witness, and took the prisoner—I received from the witness this sixpence—I afterwards got this other sixpence from Hudson—there was 11d. in coppers on the prisoner, and a good 4d. piece.
HENRY HUDSON (policeman, H 78). I assisted the last witness—I searched the prisoner, and found this bad sixpence in his right hand—I kept possession of it till the following Monday—I then gave it to the last witness.
Prisoner. It was in my pocket. Witness. His hand was in his pocket
—he pulled it out—I took his hand, and found in it the bad sixpence, which I gave to my brother officer.
Prisoner's Defence. I am a labouring man; I took the sixpences not knowing they were bad.
GUILTY . Aged 22.— Confined Twelve Months .
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
SUSANNAH CANEY . My husband keeps the Red Lion, in Charles-street, Long-acre. On 19th Nov. I was serving in the morning, and the prisoner came in, about 10 o'clock—he called for half a quartern of rum—I served him—he gave me a half crown—I gave him 2s. 3 1/2 d. change, and put the half crown in the till—I know there was no other half-crown there—when I gave the prisoner his change he left—he came again, about half past 11 o'clock—he asked for half a pint of half and half, I served him—he laid down a shilling—it remained on the counter till I gave him the change, and a gentleman who was there said, "That is bad"—I found it was so—I said, "That man has passed a half crown to me this morning; here it is"—I took it out of the till, and that was bad—I had not put any other half crown in the till nor taken any out—I had been there all that morning.
Prisoner. I asked for half a pint of porter, you gave me 11d. change, and I walked down Long-acre to St. Martin's-lane. Witness. No, it was half and half you had—you only just walked out, and a gentleman took you at the door.
GEORGE HARRISON (policeman, T 120). I was sent for to the Red Lion on 19th Nov.—the last witness gave me this half crown and this shilling, and the prisoner was given into my custody—he said the shilling he could not say anything about, and the half crown he knew nothing about—I found on him 1s. 6d. in silver, and 5d. in coppers.
JOSEPH FLEMING . I live in Fisher-street, Red Lion-square. On 19th Nov., I was in a public house in Holborn—the prisoner came in and asked for half a quartern of rum—he gave a half crown—the barmaid bent it in the detector, and he paid for the rum with two 1d. pieces—he went out and took the half crown with him—I followed him—he looked at the half crown once or twice, and put it down a sink hole in the street—he went on to the Red Lion—I went in there and spoke to Mrs. Caney.
Prisoner's Defence. I am an innocent man; I have worked all my life for my living.
GUILTY . Aged 58.— Confined Twelve Months .
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS FRANCIS NOCK . I am assistant to Mr. Pedler, a chemist in Fleet-street. On 27th Oct., the prisoner Locke came in, between 5 and 6 o'clock, she brought a prescription, I made it up—the price of it was 6d.—she gave me a bad half-crown, I gave it to Mr. Pedler, who was in the shop, and he sent for a policeman—I did not see Gilbert at all.
GEORGE STANDBURY PEDLER . On 27th Oct. I saw Locke in my shop, and the last witness gave me a half crown, I found it was bad and sent for a policeman, I gave him the half crown—this is the prescription—it was given to me, and we had made up a similar prescription a short time ago, about the same time that we had taken another bad half crown.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEKR. Q. Is this the mode in which prescriptions usually are? A. Yes, it is.
JAMBS HANN (City policeman, 360). I was sent for and took the female prisoner into custody—she said she was sent in by a gentleman outside with the prescription, who gave her the half crown—while we were passing down Fleet-street she pointed out the prisoner Gilbert, who was passing on the opposite side—he was stopped by a gentleman—I went over with Locke, and I said to her, "Is this the gentleman that gave you the half crown?"—she said, "Yes;" and Gilbert said, "Yes, I gave her the half crown "—I saw Gilbert drop something while we were standing—I took it up, and it was these three bad half crowns wrapped in this paper—it was very was at the time, and the paper was broken by falling down—Locke game her address at the station, which I found to be true.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Where is Mr. Pedler's shop? A. Near Temple-bar-—I took Locke towards the station, down Fleet-street—she pointed out Gilbert as being the person, between Fetter-lane and Shoe-lane—she said, "That is the man that gave me the money"—I saw a gentleman passing by, who was a stranger, and said to him, "You see that man going by with a stick, go and stop him," which he did—it was a little after 6 o'clock—when the paper was dropped by Gilbert I was close by the side of the prisoners—I had one of them in my right hand, and the other in my left—I saw Gilbert drop the paper from his right hand—I let go the female, and picked it up—there was a crowd—I had hold of Gilbert's left shoulder—his right hand was on the other side, but I saw him drop the paper.
Q. Did you not at first say that you picked it up, but did not see it drop? A. No—the inspector asked if I saw him drop it, and I said, "Yes"—I inquired about Gilbert—I went to his, lodging, in Star-street, Paddington—they told me he was a medical man.
WILLIAM VENESS (City policeman, 372). On 27th Oct I was in Fleet-street—I saw the last witness with the two prisoners in custody—I made way through the crowd, just as he and another officer were removing the prisoners from the crowd—as Locke left the crowd I heard something drop close to her dress—I spread out my hands to keep the crowd back, and saw this piece of paper on the pavement—I saw it picked up by a boy, and two shillings dropped out of it—he picked them up, and gave them to me—these are them—this is the paper they were wrapped in—it is a portion of the same kind of paper that the half crowns were in.
Gross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Were both the prisoners in custody? A. Yes, and there was a crowd about them—while they were being taken away from the crowd I heard a noise—I did not see anything fall—I cleared away the crowd, and saw this where the female prisoner was—Gilbert was a yard off her at that time—they were being taken away by two officers—it could not have fallen from Gilbert—he was too far away.
LEONARD PARKINSON . I was in Fleet-street on Saturday afternoon, 27th Oct—I saw a crowd, and the prisoner Locke in charge of a constable—I saw the last witness clear the crowd away—I looked on the ground, and saw a piece of green paper—I picked it up, and two shillings dropped from it—I gave the two shillings to the last witness; and as we were going on, he asked me if I had got the paper—I said, "No"—I went back, and picked it up from the ground.
the paper are from the same mould as the one uttered by Locke—these two shillings are both bad.
(Locke's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"I used to work for this prisoner; I repaired his clothes; he was holding a respectable situation at Mr. Brown's, in Camomile-street; he called on me, and sent me to the chemist's shop; I was not aware the half crown was bad."
(Locke received an excellent character.)
LOCKE— NOT GUILTY .
GILBERT— GUILTY . Aged 43.— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD MARTIN . I am shopman to Mr. Finch, a cheese monger, in King's-road, Chelsea. On Saturday, 27th Oct., I was in the shop, between 4 and 5 o'clock—the prisoner came, and I served her with half a pound of butter—she gave me a half crown—I passed it to the foreman, and told him it was bad—I saw him break it—he saved one piece, and gave the other to the prisoner—she paid for the butter with a good half crown, and left the shop—on Wednesday, 31st, she came to the shop again—I saw Mr. Lapper, the foreman, serve her—I am sure she is the same woman.
Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. This was between 4 and 5 o'clock? A. Yes—I think the gas was not lighted—she had a bonnet on—I am prepared to swear that it was the same person who came on Saturday and Wednesday—we have a good many persons come in on a Saturday.
STEPHEN LAPPER . I am foreman to Mr. Finch. I was in his shop on Saturday, 27th Oct.—the last witness took up a half crown—he said it was bad, and passed it over to me—I tried it, and broke it into two pieces—I gave one piece to the witness, and he gave it the prisoner—I saw the prisoner again on the Wednesday following—she came to the shop, and asked the price of a small piece of bacon—it came to 5 1/2 d.—she put down a half crown—I knew she was the same woman, and I said to her, "This is very strange; you were here on Saturday, and now you have got another bad half crown"—she said, "Here is another," and threw down a good one—I hesitated, and she said, "Do you mean to give me my change, or the half crown?"—I said, "No; I shall not give you either till you tell me who you are, and where you live"—she said she lived in Marlborough-road, and I might go with her, and see where she lived—I said I could not go at that moment; I had no one in the shop—I had sent the young man to ask my governor whether I should give her in charge—she did not give me any name—I sent for a constable, and gave her into custody—I gave him the half crown and the broken piece.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was this on the Wednesday? A. Between 4 and 5 o'clock—I recognised that she was the same person before the half crown was put down—she came up to the counter—I saw her fully.
JEMIMA MARSH . I live at Mr. Brook's, an ironmonger's. On Wednesday, 31st Oct., the prisoner came and bought a tray, which came to 1s. 6d.—she gave me a half crown—I put it into the till—there were two other half crowns there—I gave her change, and she went away—I afterwards saw the same tray in the hands of the constable—the constable looked into the till—there were three half crowns—two were good, and one bad.
and can sty they were good, I tried them on the counter—I was present when three half crowns were found in the till—one was bad.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was the bad one found? A. Just after dinner—we dine at 1 o'clock—the other two had been put in, I suppose, between 10 and 11 o'clock—our shop is a furnishing ironmonger's—I and my sister serve in the shop, and a young man—the policeman came about 4 o'clock in the afternoon—when I came down from dinner, the prisoner was in the shop buying the tray.
GEORGE BROWN (policeman, B 224). On 31st Oct., I was sent for to the cheese monger's shop, and the prisoner was given into my custody—she had this tray on her; she told me she bought it in Sloane-stceet of a man that travelled about with these articles, and gave 1s. 3d. for it—at the station she was asked where she lived, and her name—she said "Elizabeth Brown"—the inspector asked her how long it was since it was Elizabeth Owen Brown—she then acknowledged that it was Elizabeth Owen Brown—I received from Mr. Lapper this half crown, and this piece of a half crown—I went to Mr. Brooks, the ironmonger, and received this half crown there.
Cross-examined. Q. Where was this tray found on the prisoner? A. When she was searched by a female at the station—she had got it before her—I did not see it till she was at the station.
Prisoner. I am very sorry; I did not know they were bad; I took them in the way of change.
GUILTY .** Aged 40.— Confined Nine Months .
MESSRS. ELLIS and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
HARRIS CREMPE . I am a butcher, and live in Sloane-street I saw the prisoner at my shop on Wednesday, 31st Oct., or Thursday, 1st Nov.—she came for some pieces of meat, which were 5d. a pound—I do not recollect exactly what she had—it came to less than a shilling—she gave me a shilling—I tried it, and found it was bad—the prisoner had then gone, and I put the shilling underneath the till—I saw her again on Saturday, 3rd Nov.—she came for a piece of beef, which came to 1s. 4d.; she gave me a half crown, I found it was bad (I had recognised her as soon as she came into the shop)—T told her the half crown was bad, and she had been there before—she said she had not, and was rather confused—she denied she had been there—she said she was not aware the half crown was bad, and she would go and fetch her husband—she said her husband had received it for wages at the top of Sloane-street—she went out of the shop, I had no one to stop her—I called one of the men from tea, and he went and brought her back with a constable—I gave the shilling and half crown to the constable.
EDWARD WHITE (policeman, B 222). T took the prisoner on this charge—she was searched or a female, and 5 1/2 d. was found on her—I asked her where she got the half crown, she said from selling her goods—she said she was a hawker of caps.
Prisoners Defence. I was selling a few dress caps; that was how I got the half crown.
GUILTY . Aged 33.— Confined Six Months .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 22.— Four Years Penal Servitude .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 29.— To appear when called on .
WILLIAM BARR . I am a cabinet maker. My warehouses are Nos. 115 and 116, Curtain-road; my son has the charge of them, and sleeps there—I was there on the afternoon of 9th Nov.—I left at 5 o'clock, these tables and other articles were safe—I saw them the next morning at the station house—the prisoner was then in custody.
WILLIAM BARR , Jun. I sleep on those premises. On the night of 9th Nov., I fastened up the warehouse doors at 8 o'clock—about 5 minutes before 7 o'clock the next morning, I discovered the gate was open which I had fastened the night before, and put the chain up—it must have been opened from the inside—I think it would be easy for any person to secrete themselves there in the evening.
JAMES MIFFORD (policeman, G 94). I was on duty on the morning of 10th Nov., in the neighbourhood of Worship-street—I saw the prisoner carrying these tables and this fire screen—I followed him about 200 yards—I then asked him where he was going to take them—he said to Mr. Pennington's, in Long-alley—I said, "I shall go and see if it is all right"—I then asked him where he brought them from—he said from a place in Hoxton—I went there, and there was no one at the place he described—I took him to the station.
Prisoner's Defence. I was asked to carry these things.
GUILTY .** Aged 21.— Confined Twelve Months .
MESSRS. BODKIN and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH BURGWIN . I am a stationer, and live in King-street, Coventgarden. On Friday evening, 16th Nov., I was in the shop—the prisoner Scales came in a little after 5 o'clock, just as the gas was lighted—she wanted some paper and gave me a shilling—I said it was bad, and I rung the bell—she told me her name was Ann Walker—I said, "Have you any mother?" she said, "No"—I said, "I will send my young woman with you, you shall not get off so easy "—she said she did not expect to get off go easy—she said, "My brother gave it me to buy the paper; he is going to write a letter "—I asked where her brother was, she said he was outside—I sent for a policeman—he came in, and the prisoner Johnson followed him in, and said, "What is the matter?"—I told him—he said he was very sorry indeed, and he offered me a good shilling for the bad one—the policeman said, "I don't think this lady will take the shilling"—I said I should be very sorry to do anything to hurt a child having no mother or father—Johnson said, "I will go to the station with you"—he said he gave the child the shilling, that he had received change for a 5s. piece—Scales was taken to the station—Johnson said, "I will go and tell the inspector the truth, that I gave her the shilling"—he went with us as far as the corner of Russell-street—he then ran away—I heard no more of him till the Sunday morning, when I was sent for to the station.
Johnson. Q. Can you swear that I told the child that I gave her the shilling, or sent her for the paper? A. You said you had given her a shilling to get some paper, and you asked if she had met any one who gave her a shilling.
HENRY BROWN (police sergeant, T 45). I produce this shilling, which I got from the last witness—I took Scales to the station, she was searched and no money found upon her—Johnson said he gave Scales the shilling to fetch him a pennyworth of writing paper, if that was a bad one he was very sorry, and he offered another shilling.
Johnson. Q. Can you say that I said I gave her the shilling? A. Yes, and you said you would bring the man forward who gave it to you.
HANNAH GREEN . I searched Scales at the station, I found nothing upon her—I told her not to laugh—she said her brother gave her the shilling—I said, "You was here the other day"—she said, "It was not me, it was my other sister"—I thought she was there, but I could not positively say so.
ROBERT HINDS (policeman, C 200). On Saturday, 17th Nov., Johnson was given into my custody, on another charge, in Dudley-street—I took him to Bow-street, and searched him—I found two half crowns and three shillings, wrapped in paper, in his left hand pocket, and two half crowns in the lining of his hat.
Johnson's Defence. On the Friday my brother called and asked me to lend him five shillings, I went to borrow them; I met him and gave him a 5s. piece to take what he wanted; this girl came up, and I said to her, "Wait here;" my brother said, "When are you going to write to your uncle?" I said I would do so at once, and I gave the child a shilling to get some paper; while she was gone my brother left; I went round the corner and saw the child in the shop; I asked what was the matter, she said it was a bad shilling; I said to the lady, "I will give you another;" she said she would not take it, being persuaded by her next door neighbour; the shilling passed through several hands; the lady said she would give the child into custody; I said I would go and bring the person from whom I had got it; while I was going, I thought as I had had a quarrel with my brother that he gave it to the child to serve me a trick; I ran away, and met my brother; I taxed him with having given the child a bad shilling; he said he had not, I asked him to come and see the child and get her away; he said it was useless, as the child had probably been discharged; with respect to the money found upon me, I had felt very much annoyed on the Saturday morning, and did not go to work; I met a friend who was employed, and we met some friends, and went to a public house and a gentleman came in and pulled this hat on my eyes, and as to where the money came from I know nothing about; what is easier than for two or three pieces of coin to be slipped into one's pocket? we find, repeatedly, that thieves do nothing but take purses, and empty them, and put them in some one else's pocket; this hat is not mine (putting it on his head) it is a great deal too big for me; my hat was altogether different to this, as this child will acknowledge.
SCALES— NOT GUILTY .
JOHNSON— GUILTY .
Confined Six Months .
(Johnson was subsequently sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment upon another indictment, for which see Third Court, Thursday.)
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 28th,1855.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Mr. Justice ERLE; Mr. Justice WILLIAMS; Sir JAMES DUKE, Bart., Ald.; Mr. Ald EAGLETON; and RUSSELL GURNEY. Esq.
Before Mr. Justice Erle and the Third Jury.
28. THOMAS WILLIAM WILKINS , stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, a poet letter containing 1 sovereign, 1 sixpence, and 3 penny postage stamps; the moneys of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 45.— Four Years Penal Servitude .
MESSRS. CLARKSON and BAYLEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM COOPER . I am assistant to Mr. Baker, a silk mercer, of Nos. 3 and 4, Ludgate-hill. On Wednesday evening, 31st Oct., the prisoner came to the shop, between 6 and 7 o'clock—she asked for some dresses—I showed her some—she selected one at a guinea, and some linen, which amounted to 5s. 10d.—I made out a bill, and gave it to her, and she tendered me a 5l. note in payment—I took it to the desk and examined it; and, not liking it, I took it back to her again—I noticed the name of Pawson, and some other name at the back—this (produced) is the note—I gave it back to the prisoner, and told her that I was not able to give her change, but I would take her address, and send the parcel in the morning with the change—she said she rather wanted the dress that evening—I told her it could not make much difference whether she had it at that time in the evening, or in the morning—I asked her for her name and address, and she gave "Mary Cox, No. 5, Union-street, Borough-road "—I put the parcel up in paper, ready to to be taken next morning, and put it in the usual place for parcels—the prisoner was an entire stranger, I had never seen her in the shop before—she was five or six minutes in the shop—it was soon after 6 o'clock when she left, between 6 and 7 o'clock.
JAMES SOAR . I am an assistant at Mr. William Bickley's shawl and mantle warehouse, No. 7, Ludgate-street, not many yards from Ludgate-hill. On Wednesday, 31st Oct., the prisoner came to our shop, between 7 and 8 o'clock, nearer 7 than 8—she wished to look at a mantle—I showed her several—she selected one at 25s., and presented a 10l. note in payment—this (produced) is it—I passed it to Miss Payne to be handed to Mr. Bickley, who was at the desk—he called me to him, and in consequence of what he said, I went to the prisoner and asked if she had any smaller change—she said she had not—I then asked her name and address—she gave me "Mary Ann Cox, No. 5, Union-street, Borough-road," which I wrote on the back of the note in her presence—I find that on this note there is also the name of Pawson and Co.—I saw that at the time—they are persons carrying on a large business in St. Paul's churchyard—finding that the prisoner had no change, I again sent the note to Mr. Bickley by Miss Payne—she returned with the change, and gave it to the prisoner—I packed up the mantle in brown paper, and the prisoner left with it—the note was brought back, stamped "forged," on the Monday following—it is customary for persons in business to put their names upon notes in their possession—seeing Pawson and Co. upon this note led me to suppose it had passed through their hands.
COURT. Q. You say it is customary for persons who have notes to put their names upon them; did you put the name of Bickley on this note? A. No, nobody has done so—the prisoner was quite a stranger—I know Mr. Baker's shop—I do not know whether they sell mantles—we do not sell dresses, only shawls and mantles.
JOSIAH SCOTT . I am assistant to Mr. Baker, of Ludgate-hill. On Thursday, 1st Nov., about 9 o'clock in the morning, when I got to business, I saw a parcel on the counter directed to Mrs. Cox, Union-street—I took the parcel there—I inquired for Mrs. Cox, and the prisoner came into the passage, and then showed me into a small room—I said I had brought the parcel that she had purchased the previous evening—she then gave me a 5l. note—I examined it, and saw W. Bowman, of Woolwich, on the back, and I think the name of Pawson and Co.—this is the note—I had not been in the shop on the previous evening when the prisoner tendered the note—I said. I had not change with me, but if she would allow me, I would send her change in about half an hour—I was about to return with the parcel and the note, when the prisoner said, "Oh! no, you are not going to take the parcel as well as the note"—I said that she might depend upon having the change, as ours was a respectable house, and I gave her one of our cards—after some little hesitation, she allowed me to take both the note and the parcel—she told me she had received the note from a sailor who had been sleeping with her for three nights, and that he had sailed for the Crimea—I returned to the shop with the note and the parcel, and sent it to the Bank by the apprentice; it was returned, marked "forged"—I am sure this is the note, the apprentice's writing is on the back—about an hour after this, the prisoner came to Mr. Baker's shop—she said she bad come for the change of the 5l. note that she had given me—I presented the note to her, saying it was a forged one—she said she believed it was a good one, and it was given to her by a sailor—I said as she doubted it being a bad one, she had better go with me to the inspector, and he would prove that the note was a forged one—she said, "You had better send for the inspector; let him come here"—I then went to the police station, a sergeant came back with me, and the prisoner and I went with him to the station—I left the prisoner there, and the note—I did not give her in charge—she informed the inspector where she obtained the note.
Prisoner. When he brought the parcel, I did not hesitate a moment to let him have the note; he promised to come back in half an hour; I waited an hour, and then went to the shop; as to telling him how I got the note, I did not until I went to the shop; I asked him why he did not return with the parcel and the note, and he said the note was a forged note; I said I was not aware of it, a sailor gave it to me; he asked if I would like to go across to the inspector, and I said, "Yes," and I went by myself to the station; no policeman came to the shop to take me. Witness, I am sure she said at her lodging that a sailor gave it her—she told me so both times—she went to the station voluntarily, I had no idea of giving her in charge—she acted quite as if she believed it was a genuine note—there was nothing to show that she had any misgiving about it—the inspector sent
the sergeant to the shop, and he said to her, "Perhaps you will walk with me?"—she went to the station by herself, quite voluntarily.
ADAM SHELFORD (City police inspector). On Thursday, 1st Nov., Scott brought to me what purported to be a 5l. note, and in consequence of what he said, I sent a police constable back with him—this was about 2 o'clock—the constable returned in two or three minutes with the prisoner and Scott—I had then got the note from Scott—I showed it to the prisoner, and asked her if she would give an account of how the note came into her possession—she said that a sailor whom she knew by the name of Charlton had stopped with her the three previous nights to her endeavouring to utter it, and on the morning he gave her that note—she said that he had stopped with her at her lodging, No. 5, Union-street, Borough-road, and she said that when he gave her the note he said to her, "Here, Polly, here is a 5l. note for you "—she only gave me an account of that one 5l. note, she never mentioned any second note—she said that Charlton lived at the Sailors' Home, in Wellclose-square, and that he had stopped with her on other occasions, she had been down the river with him on parties of pleasure, but that had been a long time before—she said she had known him on board the ship Harriett—Mr. Scott refused to charge her with any offence, and I let her go—I sent Gayler, an officer, to make some inquiry regarding her—I saw no more of her until she was in custody at Guildhall on the Saturday week following—I gave the note to Gayler after marking it—this is the note.
THOMAS GAYLER (City policeman). On Monday, 5th Nov., in consequence of information I received, I apprehended the prisoner in Carlisle-lane, Lambeth, about 11 o'clock at night; she was in the street—I told her that she answered the description of a person who had passed a forged note at Mr. Bickley's, No. 7, Ludgate-street, on 31st Oct.—she said, "That sailor took me in"—I asked her what she had done with the mantle that I had seen her with a night or two ago—she said that she had got tipsy, and some of the girls stole it from her—I said, "I happen to know better than that, for you pledged it, and took the scarf that you have now got on out at the same time"—she then said she meant to say that she had lost the duplicate, but she did not get the scarf out at the same time, but the same evening—I took her to the station—she was there asked her address—she said she had no address, she was staying with a friend—I did not see her searched—a female searched her—I have been to the Sailors' Home, in Wellclosesquare, and made inquiries for a sailor named Charlton—they said there had been a scamping fellow there, about eighteen months or two years ago, but they had turned him out, there was no such person there then—I went to the docks and different wharfs, and inquired for the ship Harriett, there was no such ship.
COURT. Q. That is to say, you could not find it? A. No—I had seen the prisoner a night or two before I took her into custody—I had been watching her from the time of Baker's occurrence—we heard nothing of Mr. Bickley's note being forged until 5th Nov.—I was watching her in consequence of directions from the inspector—I saw her at different times.
Prisoner. I did not say I had been staying with a friend; I said I had been staying at a coffee shop in the Westminster-road. Witness. She said with a friend, but I believe she afterwards said it was a coffee shop—she said, "I have no home, I have been staying with a friend"—the inspector afterwards said, "Now, please to give your address," and she said it was a coffee shop.
COURT. Q. Had you watched her close enough to know where she was living in those days? A. No; I did not know where she was living—I saw her of an evening—I saw her two evenings after Baker's job, before we knew anything of Bickley's—I was on that particular business—I knew the part of the town she used—I had not seen her go to the pawn shop, I had had information about it—she did not mention the coffee shop where she was staying—there are many coffee shops in the Westminster-road.
Prisoner. I told him it was the one near Mr. Hart's; I staid there two nights after I left my lodging, and at another coffee shop at the corner of the Waterloo-road, one night.
EBENEZER LIEBRECHT . I am a pawnbroker, in Malina-place, Westminster-road. On Saturday, 3rd Nov., about 7 or 8 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came and pawned this mantle for 10s.—about a quarter of an hour afterwards she sent a young woman, who was with her when she pawned the mantle, to redeem a scarf that was in pledge for 7s.—I had known the prisoner for about two months—she had pawned things with me for some time—she always pawned in her own name, Mary Cox, Union-street, Borough-road—she gave the same name and address on this occasion I do not remember how long before the 3rd she had pawned anything—she came in with this mantle on the Friday evening—it was weir—she had been wearing it in the rain, and I would not take it in then—the scarf that was redeemed on the Saturday evening had not been in many days—I think it was longer than the Thursday.
Prisoner. I pawned it on the Thursday. Witness. I cannot remember that.
Prisoner. It is the mantle.
FREDERICK ROBERT ROSE . I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Pawson and Co. There are only two persons who are authorised to sign the name of Pawson and Co.—I know their handwriting—the endorsements on these notes were not written by our firm.
MARY ANN COOPER . I live at No. 5, Union-street, Borough-road. I know the prisoner, she lodged with me from five to six weeks, and left on 31st Oct., between 6 and 7 o'clock in the evening, to the best of my knowledge—she packed up her things to go, she had very trifling to pack up—she did not pay me what was owing—I told her previously to leave, and she said she would go in the evening—I told her to go, because I did not like her conduct—she did not go out that day until she left in the evening—she in an unfortunate woman—she had no key, she had to knock at the door to get in—she had no means of letting herself in—she slept in the house the three nights previous to the 31st Oct.—I do not know whether any sailor kept her company those three nights—there was a person there, I do not know whether he was a sailor or not—there was a person with her two nights to my knowledge—he might have been there the third night—I have no servant—two other young women lodged in the house besides the prisoner—I used to open the door at night, no one opened it in the day time—when there was nobody there they went out by themselves.
COURT. Q. Was it the same man who was with her the two nights? A. I did not see him go out in the morning, and it was dark when I let him in; I think it was the same man, but I could not say.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Were you asked by either of these gentlemen (the solicitors for the prosecution) about anybody having slept in the house for
one, two, or three nights before the prisoner left you? A. No, I was not—I remember the prisoner coming to me on the morning of 1st Nov.—she had not slept in my house on the night of 31st Oct.—I met her in Union-street on the Thursday morning about 10 o'clock—she told me that she was coming down to my house to meet a gentleman who was going to take her on the water—I gave her permission to do so, and she came home and waited in the kitchen with me—after she had been there some time, a gentleman came, I think it was Mr. Scott, the witness—he asked for Mrs. Cox—I called her, and she came to him—I did not remain in the room with them, I did not know their business—Mr. Scott left first, the prisoner only staid a very little while after him, about a quarter of an hour—she then went away, and I saw no more of her until she was in custody—I do not know a man named Charlton—I never heard of him—on the Thursday morning, when the prisoner came, she showed me a note, she told me her friend had given it to her—I looked at it, I did not know but that it was a good one—I am no judge of notes—I saw that it was a 5l. note—she never said anything to me about a 5l. note, except that once—she never at any time, spoke to a second 5l. note.
Prisoner. I was lodging with Mrs. Cooper about six weeks; she charged me 7s. a week, and if I sent for any refreshment she charged me double for it; the gentleman that gave me the note, Mr. Charlton, I met three weeks previous to his coming to my place, and went with him to the Victoria theatre; he had another sailor with him; he asked me for my address, and said he would call and see me, and asked if there were any more young ladies in the house; this was on Wednesday night; on Sunday he called while I was out, and a friend with him; he asked Mrs. Cooper where I was; she said I was out for a walk; she asked them into the kitchen, and they sent for a pot of beer and half a pint of gin, and they and the man that was living with Mrs. Cooper, drank it together; he left a message that he would call on me again on Monday morning, and before I was up on Monday morning, Mrs. Cooper came up to my room, and asked if I knew a gentleman pitted with the small pox; I had rather forgotten him, and it being night when I saw him, I did not know whether he was marked with the small pox or not, but the man was close at her heels. Witness. A man did call for her on the Sunday, I let him in, and had some drink with him when she was out for a walk—I took the man up to her room on the Monday, and left him there with her—I cannot tell whether it was the same man that came on the Monday and Tuesday—he called again after the Monday, and asked if the was in; I said no, but she was sure to be in the Westminster-road—he said he would call again the next night.
Prisoner. He said he would be a friend to me while he was in town, but he did not act as he ought, because he did not give me sufficient money, and I was obliged to pawn my things; he said he would make it up before he went to the Crimea; he gave me his name as Charlton.
MR. CLARKSON. Q. Is all that she has put to you true? A. Yes.
COURT. Q. About leaving the lodging, do you mean to say that nothing more passed than, in the morning, you said you wished she would go? A. Yes, and then in the afternoon she went—the Wednesday was not the end of her week—I did not expect her to come back again—I told her not to come back any more—she did not pay me what was due to me—nothing was said about payment—I told her to leave—that was not at all in consequence of anything suspicious that I saw about the man who had been there for the two nights—she was in the habit of coming home very tipsy, and
falling about, and I was very uncomfortable about it—she did not pay me anything on the following morning.
JOSEPH BUMSTEAD . I am an inspector of notes at the Bank of England I have looked at the two notes produced—they are forged in all respects, and I have not the least doubt they are from the same plate.
Prisoner's Defence. MR. CHARLTON, he gave his name as such, was continually coming to see me; he told me he would make me a present of a 5l. note before he went to sea; on Wednesday evening he said, "I shall make you a present of a dress; I shall not leave you more than a 5l. note, because I am short of money;" his friend said, "If you find a dress I will find a cloak; I have no small money; you must change a 5l. note;" I first went with the note to buy the dress; they both went with me to Ludgate-hill, and stood outside while I bought it; I brought it out, and he asked me for the change, and I gave him the change of the first 5l. note; both the gentlemen had called at Mrs. Cooper's on the previous evening, and I went out with them, and we went and had some tea together; they waited outside where I bought the cloak, and when I came outside he asked me for the change, and I gave him the change; he said he would give it me all, but he was going to get a suit of clothes that he had been paying off; he asked me where I should meet him in about an hour's time, and we appointed to meet at the Cross Keys, at the bottom of Blackfriars-bridge; he said, "You may as well go and get your dress, as you are on this side of the water," and he handed me a 5l. note, and said, "I shall want this changed; the other one said, "You will get me some flannel to make some flannel shirts;" I selected six yards of flannel, and a yard of body linen for the dress; the young man asked me if I had no smaller change; I had not one farthing and I said, "I must trouble you for change;" he said, "I will send it you in the morning;" I said, "That will do;" I can assure you that my landlady and I had had no words whatever about leaving the lodging, or anything of the kind, and I only owed her 18d.; I went to the shop, and selected the dress, and it was to come next morning at 11 o'clock; when I went home at night I met this party, and went to the Canterbury Hall with him; he had a parcel of new clothes; I went home about half past 12 o'clock; Mrs. Cooper, being very tipsy, never answered me; she had served me the same trick before; I went to the Westminster-road, and took a bed at a coffee shop; I went next morning to Mrs. Cooper's, and met her in Union-street; she said, "You never came home last night;" I said, "I did, but you would not open the door;" she said, "I had too much with your friends last night;" I said, "Has any one called for me this morning?" she said, "No, child, there has not;" that was the way she generally spoke to the lodgers; I went into the kitchen; the sailor went along with me, and Mrs. Cooper and the man that lives with her were there also; the sailor was there when the parcel came, and Mrs. Cooper knows the same; he left me that day, and I have never seen him since; he told me he was going to the Crimea; Mrs. Cooper never told me anything about leaving, or I should not have had my dress sent there; I had told her about a week before, that if she could not let me have the back room, I should leave; I had told her when I first went that 7s. a week was more than I could pay, but I had no idea of leaving.
GUILTY . Aged 30.— Six Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Justice Erle and the First Jury.
MESSRS. CLARKSON and BAYLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA HOLLOWAY . I keep the Green Man public house, in Newcastle-street, Whitechapel. On Sunday, 18th Nov., about 1 o'clock in the afternoon, the prisoner came to my house and asked for two bottles of rum which came to 5s. 10d., he handed me a 10l. note in payment—I asked him if he had no change, he said, No, he had just taken it of two sailors who had come from Southampton to lodge at his house, if it was bad he was innocent of it—I took the note and went into the public parlour to examine it, and believed it to be good—I then called the prisoner in and left him there while I went to get the change—I asked him to write his name and address, and he wrote it in my presence, Daniel Leary—this is the note (produced.) I saw him write this "Daniel Leary, 18, Plough-street, Commercial-road "—I also wrote down the address on a slate—I asked him whether he had any objection to allow the boy to go home with him, he said he had not the least objection, and I sent the boy with him—I gave the prisoner nine sovereigns, and one half-sovereign, in gold, and 4s.—there was 2d. coming to him besides, and I asked him what he would have for the 2d.—he said he was not particular, as the sailors were not particular—I said I wanted nothing but what was just and right, and I gave him a glass of gin for the 2d.—I took the note up stairs and put it in my cashbox—I paid it away to our brewer on the Tuesday following—it was afterwards returned to me as forged—I identified it again directly by the name.
Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. Did you see the prisoner write the name upon it? A. I did—I looked at the note when he brought it—I did not feel suspicious about it, because the prisoner looked so honest—I believed it to be a good one—during the day I thought it might be bad—he said if the note was bad he knew nothing of it, it was good for anything he knew.
WILLIAM CANNON . I was potboy at the house of Mrs. Holloway—by her direction, I accompanied the prisoner with the rum, to see where he went—he carried one bottle and I the other—I walked by the side of him—he went along the Whitechapel-road, and he met a woman, and stopped and spoke to her—I did not hear what passed, I stood away from him while he spoke to her—he then walked on about five or six yards and he met two men dressed as sailors—he spoke to them, and I stood away from him, and then we passed on—he winked his eye at them—he then walked on down to Plough-street, and turned round to the left into Colchester-street—he crossed the road, turned to the right, and went into No. 17—I gave him the bottle that I had and he went in—I saw nothing more of him—this was on Sunday—on the Thursday following I went with a policeman to 17, Colchester-street—I could not find the prisoner there, or learn anything about him—I inquired for Daniel Leary.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not hear of any one in that name? A. No—when I left my mistress's house I walked on the right side of the prisoner—it was his right eye that he winked, I was close beside him—the sailors did not wink their eyes—I swear that—he went through Plough-street into Colchester-street—he did not stop at any place in Plough-street.
MATILDA AZULA . I am the wife of Morris Azula—we lodge at 17, Colchester-street, Whitechapel, and have done so for upwards of seven years—I know the other lodgers in that house that have been there any period of time—the prisoner has never lodged there since I have been there—I never saw him until he was before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined Q. Is it a common lodging house? A. No, it is let out in different tenements—there are about seven or eight different families, each occupying a room—sometimes they take other lodgers with them.
ROBERT GRIMES . I keep the Scarborough Arms public house, St. Mark's-street, Whitechapel. On Sunday evening, 18th Nov., I was at tea in my parlour, between 6 and 7 o'clock—in consequence of information I received, I took two bottles of rum into the bar and put them on the counter—the prisoner was there, and two or three others—I asked him if the rum was for him, he said yes—at the same time he pulled out from his pocket what appeared to be a 10l. note—I took the two bottles of rum away, asked my barmaid for some paper to put them in, and put them away out of his reach—I thought the note was a bad one from the colour of the paper—I asked the prisoner if he wanted change—he said yes—I asked him who the rum was for—he said it was for a sailor—I asked where he lived—he said at No. 9, Chambers-street—he said two sailors had come up to day, and one of them gave him this note—I said, "What is his name? "—he said, "James Collins "—I asked him if he would put his own name or James Collins's on the note—he said he would put either—I then took the note into my bar parlour for further examination—I went round another way to the counter, and called aloud to my pot boy, "William, come and get change for this 10l. note"—I called aloud purposely for the prisoner to hear—I told the potboy to fetch a policeman, and he went and returned with Serjeant Horan—in consequence of something Horan said to me, I put a mark on the note—this (produced) is it—I went to the counter and told the prisoner my boy could not get change for the note, and asked whether he would wait until I got change—he said yes, he would wait—I then took the note to the police station to ask the inspector his opinion, and Horan went to inquire if the address the prisoner gave was correct—I returned to the house shortly afterwards with two police officers—I found the prisoner standing on the steps of my door outside, the officers took him inside, and asked him where he lived and where he got the note—he said he got the note from a sailor named James Collins—he said that he met two sailors in Rosemary-lane, and one of them gave him this note, and told him to come to my house to get two bottles of rum—he said the sailors were strangers to him, and the one who gave him the note told him to say, if any questions were asked, that the note was from James Collins—the policemen said we had better go to the station, and we all went to the station together—on the way there the prisoner said he had been a bricklayer's labourer, and had worked at Ashby and Homer's in Aldgate—he also said he had lived round the corner, meaning one of the houses towards the station—he said he had lodged at No. 8, Keate-street, Spitalfields, for the last two of three nights, and that he had dined there that day—he gave the name of Andrew Driscoll—he said it was about a month since he had been at work, and that he had worked last at Ashby and Horner's—he was detained at the station for the purpose of Horan making inquiries whether he had been to Keate-street.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you-ever said a word about this conversation before? A. Yes, I stated it to Mr. Freshfield—I never stated the whole of it publicly before—I told Mr. Freshfield of it the day after we were before the Magistrate—the prisoner was in my shop altogether about twenty minutes.
two bottles of rum—I asked him what price—he said the best, at 3s. a bottle—I told Mr. Grimes what he wanted, and he filled the bottles, came to the bar, and put them on the counter—he asked me for a piece of waste paper to put them in, and while I was getting it, the prisoner handed him the note—Mr. Grimes returned into the parlour to Mrs. Grimes—I asked the prisoner where he received the note—he said from No. 9, Chambers-street—he said they were all strangers to him but one, and that was his cousin—he seemed in a very great hurry, and wished me to make haste and give him his change, as he said they would wonder where he had got to, as he had been detained so long—he said they had been drinking all the afternoon, and he said to them at the time they gave him the note, "Why don't you send me where you have been having your liquor from," and they said, "No, go to the house I describe to you, Mr. Grimes's "—the prisoner was kept there full twenty minutes—the police officer came—he asked the prisoner if he was aware that it was a forged note—he said he did not know whether it was a good or a bad one, it was given to him by two sailors—he said he had left them in Chambers-street, but he did not know whether they were there now—he went to the door and returned again in about three minutes—I went to the door immediately after he was taken, as he went out, and I saw two men standing at the opposite corner, dressed as seafaring men—they were looking towards the house.
THOMAS THORNTON . I am a porter at the Eastern Counties Railway, and live at No. 9, Chambers-street, Whitechapel—nobody lives there but my-self and my wife—there have been no sailors in the house since I have been been there, which is seven months—I never saw the prisoner before to my knowledge—nobody named Desmond, Driscoll, or Leary, lived at that house.
Cross-examined. Q. Whereabouts is Chambers-street? A. It is a long street running from Leman-street into Little Prescot-street—I was not before the Magistrate.
EDWARD HORAN (police sergeant, H 18). In consequence of information I received, I went on Sunday evening, 16th Nov., to the Scarborough Arms—I went past the front of the bar into the back parlour—Mr. Grimes, showed me a 10l. note—in consequence of what he told me, I went to No. 9, Chambers-street—I found a board up, representing that the house was to let—I then went to the station, and accompanied sergeant Foray to Mr. Grimes's house—I saw the prisoner coming out of the house, and took him into custody—I asked him where he got the note from—he said from two sailors that he met in Rosemary-lane—when we got to the station, I asked him his name—he said Andrew Driscoll—he said that he was going to take the rum to No. 9, Chambers-street—J went again to Chambers-street with Mr. Grimes, and knocked at the door, but did not get admittance—I asked the prisoner where he lived—he said he was a single man, and lived anywhere—I asked him where he got his dinner—he said with his mother, at No. 8, Keate-street—I went to No. 8, Keate-street, and found that no person of the name of Priscoll was known there—I afterwards returned, and asked the prisoner when he left work—he said, "On Saturday night"—I asked him who he worked for—he said, "Mr. Downes"—I asked him where Mr. Downes lived—he said he did not know—I heard him give the name of Timothy Desmond next morning when asked at the Court—he said on the Sunday night that the parties said, "If any questions are asked you where you got it from, you can say from James Collins "—nothing was said about Mrs. Hollo way at that time—I went there on the Friday morning in consequence of information—I have ascertained that the
prisoner is a married man—I have been to Plough-street, and I find that there is no No. 18—No. 17 is the highest number in the street.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you went twice to No. 9, Chambers-street? A. Yes, before I took the prisoner into custody, and afterwards—I found that the house was to let.
CORNELIUS FOAY (police sergeant, H 7). On Sunday evening, 18th Nor., about 7 o'clock, I was at the Leman-street station with the prisoner, while Horan was gone to make inquiries—I asked the prisoner his name—he said, "Andrew Driscoll"—I asked him where he had worked—he said he had worked for Ashby and Homer, the builders, in. Aldgate, but he had done no work for the last month—a few minutes afterwards, Horan came in—the prisoner then said he had been at work for a man named Downes, and he had only left him the night previously.
Cross-examined. Q. You were not before the Magistrate? A. No.
EDWARD HORAN re-examined. I made inquiries at Ashby and Homer's if a person named Andrew Driscoll had worked there—I could not find any person with that Christian name—I was not aware that his name was Desmond when I made the inquiry.
GUILTY . Aged 33.— Six Years Penal Servitude .
(To enter into recognizances to appear and receive judgment when called upon.)
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
FERNANDINO AZZONI . I am a merchant, and live at No. 24, Frederick-street, Gray's Inn-road. My brother, Francis Azzoni, has a counting house at No 57, Old Broad-street—I am in the habit of going to that counting house—I attend to my brother's business when he is absent—I was at the counting house on the morning of 2nd Nov., at 10 minutes past 10 o'clock—I found this letter in the letter box, it is addressed to Mr. F. Azzoni—it is in the Italian language—I do not know the writing—(a translation of the letter was read, as follows: "Signor Fernandino Azzoni, considering the success you have had in business a short time through commerce, the Secret Italian Society, established in London in connection with all the other united societies of Europe, with the severest rigour, have decreed the application of a forced tax upon you, Sir, of 500l. sterling, in gold, to be consigned as underneath expressed. Mr. F. A., precisely at midnight, between 2nd and 3rd Nov., shall find himself opposite the General Post-office of this city with a packet containing 500l. sterling, in gold precisely, which has been taxed; in which place he will find an individual who will
ask him in these precise words, La parola did Mario? To which question h shall answer precisely as written underneath, Primo Mercurio; at which sig; of convention you may be certain it is our clerk, and to the same you will con sign the packet, without any word or noise, under the penalty of being immediately killed by an emissary, who on that night will be in that locality purposely to watch for you. If your life be of any consequence to you, we advise you to punctually execute all that which is here described, because perhaps you will not believe that our societies are well united and in full relation with all others; therefore, if ever it should come into your head to escape from here, in whatever place you may go, or soon or late, you will be taken and killed. So if you should attempt to avoid it by advising the police, you may be certain of walking very little longer; but, on the contrary, we assure you that if you will execute the above, you will be able to travel where you wish; that no one will molest you, neither will they ask you for anything further"—I opened that letter and read it—I went to the Justice room at Guildhall, and communicated with the police—on the night of 2nd Nov. I went to the General Post-office in St. Martin's-le-Grand, at 12 o'clock precisely—I found nobody there at the moment, but shortly afterwards I saw the prisoner—I did not know him before—he was walking towards me when I first saw him, he was alone—he spoke to me, and said in a very impudent manner," Have you received the letter?"—he spoke in Italian—I said, "Yes"—he then said, "You know the word?"—I said, "What word?"—he said, "Mario "—I replied, "Primo."
Prisoner. I merely asked him the way to my house? Witness. He did not ask me any question of that sort—I put my hand in my pocket where I had a bag containing 300 farthings—on my putting my hand in my pocket, the prisoner looked frightened, and fell back, and said, "Be so kind as to come with me"—he said that three or four times—I said, "No, according to the letter I am obliged to pay here "—he said, "No, no, no, be so kind as to come with me," drawing back—I had some officers in attendance, not far from me, on the opposite side of the street—when I saw the prisoner fall back and like run away, I made a signal to the officers, and they came in a moment and arrested him—they asked him, "What do you want with this gentleman?"—he said, "Oh, nothing! I want nothing."
Prisoner. If this had been true, I could have escaped before the police arrested me.
Witness. He could not have gone away.
Prisoner. I should have had plenty of time, because I heard their footsteps behind me approaching me; I wrote no letter and asked him no such questions as he represents, and I know nothing about it.
WILLIAM JARVIS (City policeman, 25). In consequence of a communication from Mr. Azzoni, on the night of 2nd Nov., I placed myself in St. Mar-tin's-le-Grand, near Newgate-street, opposite the General Post Office—I was there at a quarter before 12 o'clock—about four minutes before 12 o'clock I saw the prisoner—he came from Newgate-street, and turned round the corner into St. Martin's-le-Grand—I watched him—he walked towards the north end of St. Martin's-le-Grand, looking very attentively across to the east side, towards the General Post Office—he walked about ninety yards on the west side, and then returned back towards the south end, looking attentively, and nearer the kerb towards the Post Office—he passed by me on coming back—he then crossed by my right shoulder to the opposite side, to the General Post Office—I saw Mr. Azzoni—the prisoner and he met—they appeared to be in conversation for about two minutes, I should say—I then saw the prisoner leave, walking towards the south end
of St. Martin's-le-Grand in a beckoning position, that it, enticing Mr. Azzoni to follow him—he walked sideways with his face towards me—a signal had been agreed upon, between Mr. Azzoni and me—at that time I observed the signal, and I immediately crossed over the road as fast as I could go—my brother officer (Russell) had got hold of the prisoner by the right hand—I took his left and he was taken to the station—he was searched in my presence—this large clasp knife was found upon him, (producing it)—it was closed, in his right hand pocket—there was also a snuff-box containing a passport, and two small memorandums in the Italian language—I did not see any person with the prisoner—I saw no person besides the prisoner meet Mr. Azzoni, or speak to him—when I took the prisoner I asked him what he wanted with the gentleman—he made some answer in Italian, and also said, "Me no speak English."
Prisoner. It is not true that I passed twice in St. Martin's-le-Grand, I only passed once.
Witness. I am positive he passed twice; it was a very wet, rainy night, and there were very few people about.
Prisoner. I have nothing to say, except I hope you will be favourable towards me.
GUILTY . Aged 30.— Confined Eighteen Months .
MR. LOGIE conducted the Prosecution.
JAKE FLANDERS . I am a single woman, and live at No. 28, Great Chart-street, Hoxton—I am an unfortunate girl—I have known the prisoner from childhood. On Tuesday night, 23rd Oct., about 11 o'clock, I was at the Eagle Tavern, City-road—I was in company with the prisoner, and went to the bar and had a glass of brandy and water with him—I left the bar and went into the front coffee room—I left the prisoner at the bar, and bid him good night—I did not stay in the coffee room more than two minutes—I then came out in company with a gentleman who I had met there, the prisoner was still at the bar, and as I was going out, he said, "Is that gentleman going to see you home?"—I said, "He is going part of the way"—he said, "If you allow that gentleman to go home with you, I will kick your——"—I took no notice, but bid him good night, and walked away with the gentleman—I did not see the prisoner say more that night—about 4 o'clock the following afternoon he came to my apartment in Great Chart-street—I was alone—he came into the room, locked the door after him, and said he had bad news for me—I asked him what it was—he appeared very agitated—he pulled a knife out of his pocket and opened it, and said, as I had left him on the previous evening he intended to do for me—he said he would cut my throat, and he held up the knife—I said, "Don't be so ridiculous, don't be so silly; I will do anything for you if you won't be so silly"—I believe he had been drinking, but as he had the knife open, and said he would cut my throat, of course, I expected he intended to do so, and I put up my hand, and by so doing the knife out my finger—he took hold of me with his left hand, at the top of my dress—that was at the time I lifted up my hand—he had the knife in his right hand, holding it up, and I put up my hand and it cut my finger—he did not do anything with the knife, further than cut my finger with it—it was cut across, just at the top—it is getting perfectly well now.
COURT. Q. Then, according to your evidence, it was almost as much your act as his? A. Yes—probably he would not have cut me if I had not put my hand up, he might not have meant it—my finger bled for about half an hour—I screamed out, and called for assistance—I called, "Mr. Wellam,
Mrs. Wellam, do come up stairs!"—my landlord and landlady both came up stairs—I opened the door for them—they interfered, and the prisoner went out of the room—he did not say anything before he went, he had not time—the landlord compelled him to leave the room immediately—when he got outside, he said, "Allow me to speak to her, I will not leave the house without speaking to her," and as my finger was bleeding, and I was frightened, I said, "Leave the house; I will never speak to you again "—he was talking to the landlord for some minutes, and saying, "Do ask her if she will speak to me; do let me see her."
(MR. PAYNE, for the prisoner, stated that he could not resist a verdict of unlawful wounding.)
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Aged 24.—Strongly recommended to mercy .— Confined Three Days.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 28th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE WILLIAMS; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; Mr. Ald. EAGLETON; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Mr. Justice Williams and the Fifth Jury.
MESSRS. RYLAND and LOCKE conducted the Prosecution.
MARY HOGAN . I am single, and live in Long-lane, Bermondsey. On Saturday evening, 27th Oct., I was on Southwark-bridge, about 10 minutes before 8 o'clock—I sat down on a bench seat, very near the right hand toll gate, on the City side; a soldier came and sat down near me—it was the prisoner—I looked towards him, and observed his person was as naked as he was born—perfectly so—he was some feet behind me—his face was rather towards me—I saw his private parts—I did not notice his shirt nor his trowsers—I saw his person completely—I got up instantly, and called him a nasty dirty fellow—I got up and he came after me—his small clothes were undone, he was just in the same position—I went to the toll gate, and he made his way to the first archway on the left—I did not follow him—there was another woman there who is in the habit of being about the bridge—he went towards her several times—I went and spoke to Mr. Ashley, and I saw a policeman come through the gate—it appears he had been spoken to by Mr. Ashley—the policeman went after the prisoner—I did not go after the policeman, but I saw the prisoner struggling with the policeman—I had given information to Mr. Ashley of what had taken place on the bridge—I went to the Mansion House on the Monday morning following.
Prisoner. I was intoxicated.
MR. RYLAND. Q. Did you take notice enough of him to know whether he was drunk or sober? A. I think he was in liquor—he could not walk well, he staggered very much.
SAMUEL ASHLEY . I am one of the toll keepers on the Southwark-bridge. On Saturday evening, 27th Oct., I was at the right hand toll gate, on the City side—the last witness came to me at nearly 8 o'clock—she made a complaint to me—I communicated to the policeman what she had
said to me—I afterwards saw the prisoner in custody of that policeman, Gaul—he was taking him off the bridge—he went quietly just through the gate, but very soon afterwards I heard a scuffling noise—I afterwards saw the prisoner—he wanted to run through the gate on to the bridge, but I stopped him—he said, "You know me, let me go"—I had seen him before—I detained him—Mr. Homes came and assisted me to detain him till Gaul came up again, and took the prisoner—Gaul's left eye was bleeding—the blood was running down his cheek—the prisoner appeared to me as if he had been drinking, but I think he was capable of knowing what he was doing.
RICHARD GAUL (City policeman, 487). On the evening of 27th Oct., I was on duty, and Mr. Ashley told me that a female had complained to him of a soldier on the bridge in a very indecent state—I went along the left hand side the bridge, and saw the prisoner standing on the middle of the pavement—his trowsers were undone, and his person quite exposed—he was not doing anything, but standing with his hand down against his person—he was three or four feet from the wall standing on the middle of the pavement, his face was towards the gate—there was a gas light just by—I saw him plainly—I made him do up his trowsers, and took him—I asked him what he meant by such beastly conduct—he said he should continue doing so as long as he thought proper—I took him into custody—he walked quietly with me through the gate to the City side, and just as he got on this side he said, "Let me go; if you don't let me go, I will kick you in the private parts, and injure you for life"—I said, "I will take good care you don't do that"—he walked about four or five yards further, and then commenced kicking—he threw himself on his back, and still continued kicking upwards, trying to kick me in any part he could—I attempted to lay hold of him by the collar, and in stooping to lay hold of his collar, I caught his foot in my left eye—it was a very violent kick indeed—a great deal of blood ran out of the eye, and out of the nostrils—the moment he kicked me, it threw me back, and he got up and ran away—I immediately called out, "Stop him!" and Mr. Ashley stopped him—Mr. Homes assisted in taking him—I have been attended by Mr. Childs, the surgeon, ever since—I have been unable to do duty, and am so still.
GEORGE BORLASE CHILDS . I am surgeon to the City Police Force. I saw Gaul on 28th Oct, he applied to be put on the sick list, in consequence of a severe contusion of the left eye—he was quite blind with that eye, and the vision of it at the present moment is very defective—a violent kick would have produced that injury—I was for some time apprehensive that he would lose the sight of that eye—I now hope he will recover it, but I fear it will be some time before they will have his services in the police—the kick to produce that injury must have been very violent.
GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Twelve Months .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 38.— Confined Nine Months .
( The prisoner was also indicted for forging an order for payment of 50l., upon which MR. BODKIN offered no evidence.)
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BATEY . I am a fruiterer, and live at No. 17, Hertford-place, in the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch. The prisoner worked for me for nine months—he had left me about three weeks, for drunkenness—being in my service, he was well acquainted with my premises—on 21st Oct. I left my house, about 10 minutes past 9 o'clock at night—before I went out I fastened up all my premises, and left two gas lights burning, one in the parlour, and one near the staircase door—my wife left with me—I fastened the front door when I got outside—I had fastened the staircase door before I went out, and put the key on the parlour mantelpiece—I returned about 10 o'clock, or a few minutes after—I opened my front door, and found all my back premises open—there was a passage door and gates—they were both open, and the staircase door was open, and the key in it—I went up stairs, and found about fourteen marks of something which had been trying to force open my bedroom door, which was double locked—the panel of the door was broken, and a portion of it broken out—I went into the kitchen, which is up stairs, and found the curtain torn down, the window open, and marks of feet on the end of the sofa, as though somebody had been on it—I imagine the person must have got in by getting into ray back yard, on to a shed, and to a small office between the privy and the passage, and they would then enter my passage—when I went out, the passage door was closed—I cannot say whether it was latched.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Are you sure it was closed? A. Yes—I had been down the passage to close the staircase door—the passage door goes to, and it goes with a latch—I cannot say that it was close enough to be latched.
MARTHA WALKER . I am the wife of Arthur Walker, a plumber, in Trafalgar-road, Dalston. I was on my way home on the night of 21st Oct.—I am the sister of the prosecutor's wife—I stopped at their door, and knocked—I received no answer, and I knocked again—it was then about 25 minutes past 9 o'clock—on receiving no answer, I placed my eye to the key hole, and I saw the prisoner come from the back part of the house—I had known him for about nine months—I saw him try the staircase door leading to the bedrooms—he found it to be fastened, and he opened the parlour door, which is opposite, and removed something from the further corner of the mantelpiece, and he brought whatever it was, and then opened the staircase door—he had left the parlour door open, and he turned round, with his face to the light, to shut the parlour door, which he had left open—at that time I saw his face distinctly, and it was the prisoner—he then went to the staircase, and went up backwards, closing the door after him—he presented his face to me nearly the whole time—I could see him distinctly—he had a longish coat on, of dark cloth, apparently a frock coat, buttoned quite up—he had a cap on his head, a little on one side—when he disappeared, I ran to the prosecutor's brother, William, and told him what I had seen.
Cross-examined. Q. Your eye was to the key hole of the shop door? A. Yes—the distance from the shop door to the staircase door is about half the length of this Court—I saw the man open the staircase door—I could see the door from where I stood—the staircase door opens outwards, away from the street door—I could see up the stairs—I can undertake to say that he opened that door with something that he took from the mantelpiece—I was there altogether about five or six minutes—there was a light very near the staircase door, with a globe glass, just over his head, shining right on his face—there is a light in the parlour—the parlour door is directly opposite
the staircase door—in point of fact, he was between the two lights, both shining on him.
WILLIAM BATEY . I am the brother of the prosecutor; I live in Eaststreet, Kingsland-road, and am a ginger beer manufacturer. On 21st Nov. Mrs. Walker came to my house, and I ran as fast as I could to my brother's, which is not 100 yards—on arriving, I placed at the front door a neighbour living opposite—I obtained the assistance of Mr. Manders, and he and I got over the wall to the rear of my brother's premises—we found the gates and the back door open—Mr. Manders entered the house—I remained outside—I directed my attention to the tiles of the roof, which is made good to the back of the house—I saw some one on the tiles—he came from the back kitchen window, and slid down the tiles, into the yard of the next house—it was the prisoner—I had known him before, and could form an opinion who he was—he had a dark long cloth coat on, buttoned—I suppose I had him in my view five or six minutes—I had known him well before—I did not see his face—he had a cap on.
Cross-examined. Q. How far were you from the man when you saw him on the tiles? A. Fourteen or fifteen feet—he came from the window, and was off as soon as he could—I saw him in the next yard, and in the next yard again—I never lost sight of him till he escaped altogether, when he got over a high wall—it was dark, there was no light there—I knew him by name, and Mrs. Walker knew him by name—she told me that she saw William that used to live at her brother's.
ELIZABETH SHAW . I am the niece of Mr. Manders, who keeps the Rising Sun On that night I saw Mr. Batey and his wife leave the shop, about 10 minutes past 9 o'clock—I was then at the door of my uncle's house, which is two doors from the prosecutor's—the prisoner was there—I was speaking to him while Mr. and Mrs. Batey wove leaving the house—-when they came out, the prisoner drew back, and went towards the next house, which lies back—my uncle's house is built out—there is a kind of corner—the prisoner went round that corner, I saw him peep round, about twice towards Mr. Batey's house.
Cross-examined. Q. How do you know it was that time? A. Because a minute or two before I had looked at the clock—I was quite close to the prisoner—Mr. and Mrs. Batey did not pass me, they went the other way—when they came out, the prisoner drew back and left me; he went round the corner—he lives in the neighbourhood—I had not seen him for a fortnight before that Sunday night—I went in after he left, and thought no more about it—it was said afterwards that somebody had been in Mr. Batey's house—I heard some persons talking about it—my uncle took me before the Magistrate—I had mentioned it to my uncle the same night.
THOMAS HOWES (policeman, N 111). On the night of 21st Oct. I went to watch the house of the prisoner, he lives about 200 yards from the prosecutor—he lives with his father—he was dressed in a dark coat, and had a cap on—in a few minutes after he entered, I went in—I found the prisoner sitting on the side of the bed, undressing himself—I told him Mr. Batey charged him with breaking into his house—he said, "It was not me, I was not there "—on his coming out, he said he was not near the place—I looked at the prosecutor's door the same night—it is a large sued keyhole—the gas was burning—I could see the passage and the parlour door, and all clear to the further end of the shop—if a man were there, I could see him clearly.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that this house where the prisoner lives is his father's? A. They say so—I do not know whether there are lodgers there—I was about 100 yards from him when I saw him go in—I went in in five or six minutes afterwards—when he dressed and came with me, he had the same dress on that he has now—he had a white coat under—I did not go into any other room, I went to the door of one room—I did not go into any other room—he was in the front room down stairs—I went to the back room door, and an old woman who represented herself to be his mother came out—I do not know who was in the room up stairs—there are three rooms in the house—I had been told to look for the prisoner—I did not know him when I saw him, I saw a person go in—I cannot tell that that person did not go to the upper room.
COURT. Q. You went into the house where the prisoner was living with his father? A. Yes—when I went in I saw him sitting on the side of the bed, in his drawers and stockings—I told him the charge that was against him—he said, "It was not me, I was not there"—he dressed himself in the coat he has on now, with a white blouse under it—he had a cap on his head.
Witnesses for the Defence.
EDWARD FRANKLIN . I live at No. 6, Arthur-place, Haggerstone, and am a baker. I know the prisoner by working opposite, and drinking with him now and then—I know where he lives—I recollect Sunday night, 21st Oct., the night that somebody got into Mr. Batey's shop—I met the prisoner that night, between where I live and the Black Bull—it was within a quarter and 20 minutes after 9 o'clock—I went with him to the Black Bull—I stayed with him there till about a quarter before 10 o'clock—he came with me to my door, and left me at 10 minutes before 10 o'clock—I saw no more of him.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Is the Black Bull in a line with Mr. Batey's? A. No, on the opposite side of the way, pretty near 100 yards from Mr. Batey's—I came out of my house, and met the prisoner between the Black Bull and where I live—he was going towards Mr. Batey's, smoking a pipe—he had one hand in his pocket, and the other hand to his pipe—I know it was between a quarter and 20 minutes after 9 o'clock—I went in doors at a quarter after 9 o'clock, and my mother told me to go and fetch a pint of beer for supper, and I went into the kitchen for a jug—I fetched it from the Black Bull—I know it was a quarter past 9 o'clock when I went in, because I looked at the clock—I generally look at the clock—it is right in front of the door—I went into the kitchen, and fetched the jug—I went to the Black Bull, and met the prisoner on the way—it took me about two minutes and a half to walk to the Black Bull—I met the prisoner about thirty yards from the Black Bull—I only know the prisoner by drinking with him—I do not drink with him over often, about three times a week—we have met sometimes to drink at the Black Bull, and sometimes at the Acton Arms—I did not go before the Magistrate—I was asked to come here in the week in which the prisoner was taken—his father came to me.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did his father tell you he had been sent to you by the prisoner? A. No, he came and asked me what time it was I left him—I did not go before the Magistrate, I know some one did—I do not keep a shop—I had been out about two hours that night—when I returned I was anxious to know the time, and looked at the clock—I met the prisoner going towards Mr. Batey's—he went back to the Black Bull with me, and remained till a quarter to 10 o'clock—I have been drinking with
him—I go to have my beer sometimes on an evening, not very often—I am in no one's employ now—I am a baker, and live at my mother's.
COURT. Q. You went home, and got the jug to get beer for your mother? A. Yes—I met the prisoner, he returned to the Black Bull; we both remained there till a quarter to 10 o'clock—I then went back with the beer to my mother—he came back with me to my own door—I had kept my mother waiting all that time—they wanted to know how it was I was so long gone—I said I was drinking with a young man.
TITUS FARMER . I live at No. 12, James-street, Haggerstone; I am a plasterer. I know the prisoner—I know where the prosecutor's house is—I recollect the night that somebody got into his house—on that night. I went to the Black Bull, a few minutes before the half hour past 9 o'clock—there is a clock in the public house, you can see it on entering—when I went in I saw the prisoner there, and the last witness—I drank with them—they were drinking together—I remained in the house about five minutes—I left them there together.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you known the prisoner before this? A. Yes. slightly—I never spoke to him before that night, I only knew him by sight—I went to the Black Bull for beer for supper, I generally look at a clock—I am a journeyman plasterer, I have worked for Mr. Hickley four years—I attended the Court, but was not called in before the Magistrate—the prisoner's mother asked me to come here to-day—she asked me two or three days after it occurred—this is the first time I have come to speak about it—I knew the last witness before—I have not talked to him about seeing him here—I have not spoken to him about that this mornings—I cannot recollect the subject I have spoken to him about—I supposed he was come here about it, as he was at the police court—I do not think I had any chat with him there about seeing him at the Black Bull—we had no chat about what evidence we were to give—I spoke to him at the police court, I do not think anything relative to the business in hand—I never mentioned it to a single person in the room—there were perhaps twenty persons in the room, they were not all witnesses on our side—I thought the last witness was, from being there at the same time—I cannot say what I spoke to him about to-day.
MR. RIBTON. Q. I suppose you said, "Good morning?" A. Yes—I do not carry in my memory every little thing I say—I live in that neighbourhood, and on that Sunday night I went to get my supper beer—the prisoner's mother called on me—she did not say she had seen her son—I think her son had had one examination then—when I heard he had been apprehended, I said I was drinking with him at the time he was represented as committing the robbery, and my wife, I believe, mentioned it, and the prisoner's mother came and asked me to come here—I came here, and have been here three days—I have lost very nearly three days' work.
JANE CLARK . I live at No. 3, Martha-street, which is near the Black Bull. My husband is an engine driver at the gas works—I am in the habit of getting my supper beer at the Black Bull very frequently—I recollect the Sunday night that Mr. Batey's house was broken into—I went to the Black Bull that night, about 25 minutes past 9 o'clock for my supper beer—I know it was 25 minutes past 9 o'clock from the time I left home—I left home at 20 minutes past—I have a clock—before I got to the Black Bull, I met a person—I went with my friend to the Black Bull, and by that time it was 25 minutes past 9 o'clock—I know the prisoner—I saw him, and Franklin, and another man—they were drinking—it wanted 25 minutes
to 10 o'clock when I left them in the public house—it would not take me more than a minute, or a minute and a half, to get from the Black Bull to Mr. Batey's—I did not pass Mr. Batey's—I passed through a court at the side of Mr. Batey's, and I heard the hue and cry of "Stop thief!"—the neighbours were saying that it was a man came through an empty house—I heard several say that—the street was all in alarm—I was on my way home—it was not more than a minute from the time I left the Black Bull—I came straight along Haggerstone, and through the court—I had known the prisoner from his bringing things to my house from Mr. Batey's—the next morning I went into Haggerstone, and heard that Mr. Batey's house had been broken into, but I did not hear who it was till the middle of the week—I heard that it was a young man that used to live at Mr. Batey's—I heard it on the Tuesday, and that he was to be brought up on the Monday following at the police court—I went there, but was prevented by Mr. Batey from going in to give my evidence—I was going into the door when I found he had not had his hearing—I said, "I saw that young man, I do not think it could be him from what I saw of him "—Mr. Batey put up his arm and said, "Keep that woman back"—that was to me—the officer was letting them in at the gate at the time—I believe it was Mr. Charles Batey told the officer to keep me back—I have been here three days to give evidence.
Cross-examined. Q. You first heard of this on the Monday following? A. Yes—I went to the police court on the Monday following that—that was a week after—I knew the prisoner before, by his bringing coals and potatoes which I had purchased of Mr. Batey—I never drank with him at all—I did not know he had a father or a friend—his father's house is not so far as the Black Bull from my house.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You know no more than his coming to you with articles? A. No—I went to the Court the first time after I heard about it—I have no interest in this matter.
ELEANOR COWDERY . I live fourteen doors from the Black Bull public house; my husband is a shoe manufacturer. Mr. Batey's house is very nearly facing us—I recollect somebody got into his house on the night of the 21st—I went to the Black Bull that night for my supper beer—when I got there it was 25 minutes before 10 o'clock exactly—I know the time—I had been asleep—I got up, and put my bonnet on—I have a clock in my house—when I awoke I looked at it—it was half past 9 o'clock—I put my bonnet on, and went directly to the Black Bull—when I went there I looked at the clock, and it was 25 minutes to 10 o'clock—I saw the prisoner there, and spoke to him—Franklin was with him—I did not notice any other person—when I had got my supper beer I left—I did not stop any time—I left the two together there at the bar—I did not hear till the next morning that somebody had got into Mr. Batey's house—I knew the prisoner before, by his bringing coals, and other things, from Mr. Batey's to my house when I had them—I did not ask him any questions about his family—when I heard of this on the Monday, I mentioned to a neighbour facing, that the prisoner was at the Black Bull—no one asked me to come here—I did not go to the police court—I came here to-day of my own accord—I knew the prisoner was to take his trial—I have been here three days—I have no interest in giving evidence, but telling the truth.
Cross-examined. Q. How do you know the time when you awoke? A. Because I looked directly at my clock—I have two clocks—Mr. Tilley is the landlord of the Black Bull—there is a Mrs. Tilley—there is a man
servant and a woman servant—I do not know their names—I have not seen them here, nor Mr. nor Mrs. Tilley—Mr. Tilley served me with the beer—he generally serves the beer.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Is the Black Bull much frequented? A. I do not know—a great many people go there for beer—I think it is very unlikely that Mr. Tilley would recollect the person of every one who goes there for beer.
CHARLES BATEY re-examined. Q. When you were at the police court when this was inquired about, did you see Jane Clark? A. Yes—the officer said, "Is this a witness of yours?"—I said, "She is no witness of mine."
COURT to WILLIAM BATEY. Q. Can you tell us what o'clock it was when you were fetched to your brother's house? A. It was from a quarter to half past 9 o'clock, as nearly as possible—I did not see any clock—I saw a man come from a window, go over two yards, and go off—that was about five minutes from the time I heard of it at first—from the time that Mrs. Walker came to me till I saw the last of the man must have been over five minutes—I did not see a clock at all that night—we went from there to the prisoner's mother's—when we got back to the Black Bull it was about a quarter before 10 o'clock—I passed the Black Bull towards my own house—I first saw a clock at a public house next my own house—it was about 10 o'clock then—when I passed the Black Bull I went to my brother's, and stopped some little time in his house.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You were sworn before the Magistrate, and you there said, "About half-past 9 o'clock the witness came to me"? A. Yes—I said, "About half past 9 o'clock;" I could not distinctly say the time—Mrs. Walker had 200 or 300 yards to go to my house.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 28th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. WIRE; and Mr. Ald. CARTER.
Before Mr. Recorder and Seventh Jury.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM STANLEY . I live at 56, College-street West, Camden-town. On 15th Dec., 1854, I was the driver of one of Messrs. Pickford's carts—the firm is Joseph Baxendale and others, and they trade under the same of Pickford and Co.—on that day I received some packages in my cart, at the North Western Railway, one of which was addressed to Messrs. Brocklehurst of Milk-street—that package was safe when I was at the end of Milk-street—I had to deliver two boxes at Mr. Evans's, Cheapside, and when I came back to the cart the box was gone—it could not hare fallen off, it must have been stolen by somebody—I had had to wait at the station for the train from Macclesfield, and these packages came up by it—I had other goods to deliver at Messrs. Brocklehurst's, but I lost this truss—it was 10 minutes to 8 o'clock when I got out of the station.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. What sort of a package was it?
A. A canvas truss—I had a load of boxes and trusses in the cart, but no other truss for Messrs. Brocklehurst—it was on the front of the cart until I moved Evans's boxes, and put it in the tail of the cart.
JOHN HOW . I check off the invoices at the Camden-town station of the North Western Railway. On 15th December I received by the Macclesfield train, a truss and two boxes for Messrs. Brocklehurst—this (produced) is the invoice, with my initials, "J. H." on it—they were taken from the truck, and put on Messrs. Pick ford's cart, and I checked them with the invoice—the train arrived, and was unloaded at about half past 7 o'clock in the morning.
Cross-examined. Q. To whom did you deliver the boxes? A. I did not deliver them to any one, the men take them across the line to the carte—I saw them put against the cart that Stanley drove—I knew him before that, and will swear that he was there on the occasion in question, but I did not see the goods delivered to him.
HUGH BAILEY . I live at Macclesfield, and am in the employ of the North Staffordshire Railway Company. It is my duty to load the trucks with packages for London—Pickford's have a truck expressly for them every night—on 14th Dec., I counted the articles one by one, as they were put into Pickford's truck; two boxes and a truss for Messrs. Brocklehurst were put in—the truck was locked, and I put in this invoice (produced).
Cross-examined. Q. It being so long ago, will you venture to swear that there were three packages? A. Yes; I counted the articles one by one, without looking at the directions, but I heard the directions called over as they were put on the scale—it is called out, "Two boxes and a truss, Messrs. Brocklehurst," and the men put them down in the invoice; and, at the same time it is called to the shipper—Messrs. Brocklehurst send packages to London almost every night.
MR. METCALFE. Q. The goods are called over and put upon this paper? A. Yes; I shout to the shipper how many articles there are in the van, and then the invoice is brought to me, and I look it through—when I have got all he says, "Is that all?" I shout, "Yes;" he says, "How many for Pickford's?" I say, "18," and then I check it off in my book—this book (produced) is in my writing.
COURT. Q. What do you do with this book? A. I have it in my pocket, and as soon as I have counted the goods I put down the number of packages; "Dec. 14, London, 18"—that means that there are eighteen packages of various sorts to go to London—I only count the packages, and tell him that there are eighteen packages: he shouts, "All right," and then he ships them, and they are looked out—another man calls out the directions at the time I am putting them in—I see the addresses on the packages as I put them in, but I cannot speak to the addresses on these two boxes and truss, independently of books or documents, but I recollect two boxes and a truss b eing called over—I do not read the way bill after it is made out—there are two persons who call out the addresses, but I cannot say who was on duty this night, it is so long ago—they are called foremen—they do not make out the invoice, the shipper does that from what the foreman calls out—I call out the number of packages I have got, the foreman calls out the addresses, the shipper puts them in the invoice, the invoice is delivered to me, and I put it with the goods.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Can you tell to whom any of the eighteen packages of 14th Dec. were directed, besides Messrs. Brocklebank? A. No; I cannot
mention one—I know it was 14th Dec., became I have got it down in the book which mentions the number of packages sent to London—no inquiry was made of me about it till about a fortnight ago.
DAVID DIXON . On 14th Dec. I was in the employ of the Staffordshire Railway Company. On that day I called at Messrs. Brocklebank's factory at Macclesfield, and received a truss from a person named Bowles, which was directed to Messrs. Brocklehurst and Sons, Milk-street, London—I also brought two boxes—this is my book (produced)—I find here a receipt for two boxes and a truss—I took them to the railway, and delivered them to the stage manager at the Macolesfield station—they were to go by Pickford's truck.
Cross-examined. Q. Is this your writing? A. Yes—it is acknowledging the receipt.
ABNER BOWLES . I am in the employ of Messrs. Brooklehurst, at the A factory. On 14th Dec. I sent by Dixon a truss and two boxes from that factory to the station—the truss contained six pieces of twill gauze, which was to be finished into oil silk at the London factory—I believe this (produced) to be it—Messrs. Brocklehurst make the whole of their gauze with a black selvage like this—it is in the same state as when it was put in—I stitched it up, and directed it to"J. T. Brocklehurst, M ilk-street, London."
Cross-examined. Q. How many pieces are manufactured and sent to London in three months? A. Not such a very large number—they only come up occasionally, perhaps a truss every week, or every other week—a truss contains six pieces.
ROBERT BAMFORD . I am in the employ of Messrs. Brocklehurst, at Macclesfield, and am in the A factory—I counted the number of yards in each piece of silk, put a ticket on each piece, and delivered the silk to the last witness—the tickets are not on it now—each piece bears a progressive number, and contains on an average about sixty yards—this book (produced) contains a memorandum of the numbers I delivered to Bowles that day—they are,"4890, 59 yards; 4891, 61 1/2 yards; 4892, 58 1/2 yards; 4893, 54 1/2 yards; and 4895, 58 1/2 yards"—I have not had an opportunity of examining these produced—I received them from John Brown.
JOHN BROWN . I delivered the six pieces to Robert Bamford—I have counted four of these produced, and they correspond with our books—two of them have been re-lapped, and the numbers of them do not appear, but on the other four they do—there is not the consecutive number on the goods; there is only the number of the loom, and the number of yards—they are put on when it comes from the weaver—it was on before it left my hands—Bamford's duty was to count them over, and see if they corresponded—the four pieces I examined correspond in numbers and length with those which I delivered to Bamford, and the weight and loom mark also correspond.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see these numbers on them before you delivered them to Bamford? A. Yes—they are on the top lap—I always count every piece, and look at the number of yards marked on the top lap, to see whether they correspond with my counting.
COURT. Q. That is a check on the weaver? A. Yes—a person who assists me enters it in a book—when the weaver brings it home, the young man who works with me, marks the number of the loom, and the number of yards in the piece, as called by the weaver, and writes it down in our presence—the goods soon after pass through my hands, as I have to look them
over lap by lap, count them, and look whether the number of yards agree with the number marked on the goods, as those which the weaver has given in—the person puts it in the book as soon as the weaver is gone, and I ascertain whether the number of yards agrees with the book—I see the book immediately afterwards—we work close by the side of each other—I may not see every piece, but I see them generally, and I know them to be his marking—from what I see of the marks, there is no doubt that these are the six pieces I gave to Bamford.
RICHARD FOLKES . I am in the employ of Brocklehurst and Sons, of Milk-street. This silk is their manufacture, I never saw any other with a black selvage—on 15th Dec. I received two boxes of goods from Macclesfield—a truss containing six pieces of goods of this description was invoiced, but I did not receive them; I received all the other goods—this is the invoice (produced)—it came by post—I do not know in whose writing it is, but it is in the same writing as the invoices I generally received—this silk is worth 2s. a yard, which would amount to 36l. or 38l.—silk is not generally sold in this state: we have not Bold any in this state within three years.
CHARLES LE BRUN . I am clerk to Messrs. Home, bullion carriers, of Moorgate-street. We have an agent at Boulogne—in March last we received this bill of lading (produced)—it is in the writing of the clerk at Boulogne, and refers to a case of goods for Mr. Beaumont, directed to be left at the Custom-house till called for—on 16th or 17th March we received the bill of lading, saying that the box had arrived at the Custom-house, and that Mr. Beaumont's name was on the direction—upon seeing that, our manager wrote to Mr. Beaumont, and a few days afterwards an elderly gentleman, calling himself Beaumont, came, but did not clear the box—some few days after that, the prisoner, I believe, came—that was in March, to the best of my belief—he said that he came about a case of silk which had been addressed to Mr. Beaumont—I told him that there had been a mistake in the matter, as they were English goods—he said that he was aware of that, but now that the duty had been paid, what was to be done—he gave no name—I only call him Singe from having heard it since—I told him that I would do my best, and left the office, and went with him to Messrs. Lightly and Simon, our agents—I inquired of the manager, in his presence, what was to be done in the matter, as duty had been paid on English goods—he said, "I very much doubt whether you can get the duty back, but if you wish to do so, you have to get several certificates; one from the Custom-house agent who received it in France, and another from the one who shipped it again to England"—we then left together, and while we were yet in Lime-street, he asked me again what instructions the manager had given—I took a pencil and piece of paper, and wrote down the names of the certificates which the manager had said would be required, and gave it to him—he said that he would see that everything was done, so as to recover the duty—I believe he said that the goods when first they went from England had been booked in Regent-circus; as there are several booking offices at Regent-circus, Piccadilly, I told him if it had happened to go to our own office, No. 33, Regent-circus, it would be much more easy to go into the matter—he said that they had been in bond in France, and that Mr. Beaumont had ordered them to come back to England—I never saw him in the office again, but met him two or three times over the water—we had no further conversation about the matter.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you tell where you met him? A. No—we did
not exchange greetings—I will not positively swear that the prisoner is the man—it was at the end of March, or the beginning of April, that he came to me after Beaumont left, and it was something like three weeks afterwards that I met him for the first time in the Borough—I have received no communication from him up to this time—I believe I first saw him about a week after seeing Beaumont, as far as I can guess—I told him that there had been some mistake as to the date—that is a very rare occurrence—it has not happened since I hare been at Messrs. Horne's, and that has impressed it on my memory—I have been there two years—it is within my business knowledge, though not at Messrs. Home's—my memory is not clear as to what he said about the silk having been in bond in France.
MR. METCALFE. Q. What is it that you mean by that? A. I mean that I do not recollect precisely whether it was said or not—the bill of lading comes by boat from our agent at Boulogne, and as soon as we receive it, we send it to Messrs. Lightly.
COURT. Q. Look at the prisoner again; you say, to the best of your belief that is him, but you cannot swear positively: nave you any doubt in your own mind? A. No, but I do not like to swear positively.
HENRY WALMSLEY LITTLE . I am clerk to Lightly and Simon, Custom-house agents, of Fenchurch street. In March last I paid the duty on a case of goods directed to Mr. Beaumont, to be left at the Custom-house till called for—I received a bill of lading from the office, and ultimately in Oct. I was paid the amount of the duty, 12l. 11s. 1d., by Mr. Houdins—I then gave him up the box which was at our premises, and gave him an account receipted—he paid our charges.
EDWARD HOUDINS . I live at No. 57, High-street, Bloomsbury, and am a bronze manufacturer. Early in Sept. the prisoner came to me about some white silk for sale—I told him I would speak to a friend of mine, as it was not in my line—he said that it was in Messrs. Lightly and Simon's hands, and that they would pay duty for it—he wanted about 28l., duty included—he said that they came from France and were French goods—I afterwards spoke to Mr. Badaighe, who gave me an order to buy it, sod about 11th Oct. I ultimately bought it of the prisoner upon his representation, without seeing it—he came again afterwards, and I told him he might bring the papers, and I would pay him—he brought me three papers, here are two of them (produced)—I think he went away and fetched them; he brought them the same day (these were Messrs. Lightly's account, and the receipt, which was in French)—he gave them to me to show that it was bought of Beaumont—I took the third paper to Messrs. Lightly and Simon's, and left it in their hands—I paid them 12l. 11s. 1d., and they gave me the box of silk, and this paper—I paid the prisoner 15l. 8s. 11d., that made it just 28l.—when I got the box it contained six pieces of silk; I gave them to Mr. Badaighe—I am quite sure the prisoner is the person to whom I paid the money—I had known him for six months, he used to come and see me sometimes, and I have done business with him—I had a good reference—I saw him two or three times about the silk.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you remember on what day in Sept. you first saw the prisoner about this matter? A. No, but I am able to say positively that it was in Sept—the three papers were not brought to me till after I had agreed to buy the silk—I went to his house to complain about the silk, and showed him a letter from the manufacturers—I did so because Mr. Badaighe had opened the box and found that it was not white silk, and I told the prisoner so—he showed me this paper (produced)—this word tinder the
"B" is"doite;" it is the same as "debtor"—when he gave me this, he said that it was Mr. Beaumont's signature, and that he had got the silk from Mr. Beaumont.
LOUIS CONTA (through an interpreter). I know the prisoner—I have seen him at Mr. Houdin's, and at my house—he came to my house about fifteen days before the matter took place—I did not see this paper—I had this other paper in my hand, the prisoner gave it to me, and told me to go to Mr. Houdins, and ask him for the money for it—I did so, and gave Mr. Houdins the paper, and in consequence of what he said, I returned and told the prisoner to go to Mr. Houdins, and gave him back the paper—I followed him, and when I got to Mr. Houdins's again, he was in the parlour with Mr. Houdins, and I saw Mr. Houdins give him 15l. and some odd shillings—I saw no papers pass between them.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know where the prisoner lived? A. No—I followed to Mr. Houdins's to fetch something that I wanted—I stood in the shop while Mr. Houdins and the prisoner were in the parlour—there is a glass door from the shop to the parlour, and the door is continually open—it was open on this occasion—I saw them through the open door, not through the glass.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Are you quite sure that the prisoner is the person? A. Quite; I have seen him five or six times at Mr. Houdin's.
JOSEPH BADAIGHE . I live at No. 51, Park-street, Grosvenor-square, and am a manufacturer of oxide of zinc. I remember Mr. Houdins speaking to me about some silk a few days before I gave him the money to buy it—I gave him 28l. to buy it, and afterwards went with him to Lightly and Simon's to fetch it—the box I got contained this silk (produced); it had Mr. Beaumont's name on it—I gave it up to the officer—I did not speak to the prisoner at all about it, but I have seen him two or three times at Mr. Houdins's, and spoken to him.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you at Mr. Houdins' at the time any money was paid? A. Only the money to Lightly and Simon—at the time I went to fetch the box, Mr. Houdins paid Lightly and Simon 12l.
JOSEPH COMBER KNIGHT (City policeman). I act as a detective. On Friday, 26th Oct., in consequence of information I received, I went with a clerk of Messrs. Pickford's to Mr. Badaighe's, and received from him the silk produced—I then went with him to Mr. Houdins—I gave the receipted account to Messrs. Lightly, and also the bill of parcels—on the following day I went with Mr. Houdins to find the prisoner—I saw him at a public house in the New Kent-road—he came there in consequence of a message left at his house by Mr. Houdins—he lives in a small row of houses, at the back of County-terrace—when he came in Mr. Houdins said, "This is Mr. Sange, the gentleman I had the silk of"—the prisoner said nothing—I told him that I was a police officer, and said, "I have some silk in my possession, which has been stolen, and which Mr. Houdins says that he has bought of you, and paid you 28l. for it"—I then showed him Lightly and Simon's account, and the receipt, but not the bill of lading—I did not have that—he said, "I have never sold any silk to Mr. Houdins, and never received any money from him; if you look at that paper you will see that it is not my name, it is Mr. Beaumont that you want, "showing me Mr. Beaumont's name on the paper which I held in my hand—I said, "Then did you sell the silk for Mr. Beaumont? "—he said, "No, "and that he never had anything to do with the silk, and never had these papers, neither had he received any money from Mr. Houdins—I then turned to Mr. Houdins, and said, "Are
you positive this is the man that you bought the silk off? "—he said that he was quite positive—I asked him if there was any one present who had seen the transaction, or any part of it—he said that his workman saw it, and brought one of the papers to him—I told him he must go with me, and Mr. Houdins to Lightly and Simon's, as I thought, perhaps, they could throw some light upon it—he agreed to go, and went with me in a cab, but they did not know him—I then took him to Bow-lane station—I found this pocket book and passport on him.
Cross-examined. Q. You say that in consequence of a message left for him at his house, he came to the public house? A. Yes—I informed him that I was a police constable immediately he came in, and I believe I added, that he might do as he pleased about answering any questions, but I am not positive—he speaks good English; he did not in my presence speak so that it was difficult to understand him—I said that if he could find Mr. Beaumont I would go anywhere with him—he was rather excited—he objected to go with me to Messrs. Lightly, and begged me to find Mr. Beaumont, and take him—I said that I could not part with him till the case was cleared up—I allowed him to go to his house, as he had not had any breakfast, but I went with him—it was then about 11 o'clock—at one time he said that he should not go with me—I told him that if he did not, I should send for two men in uniform immediately—he then said that I had no business to take him unless I had a warrant—I showed him my warrant card, this is it (produced)—we always carry it to show our authority—I think it was after that that he said that he would not go—I think I showed it to him in the public house.
CHARLES LE BRUN re-examined. This bill of lading is made deliverable to Hackford, and is endorsed by him—he is our manager, it is consigned to him—we have no clerk at Boulogne, it is the clerk to the Messageries Imperiales, and we are their agents—no letter came with it—it was in conesquence of seeing the address of Mr. Beaumont on the goods that our manager wrote to him to clear them—it was not the prisoner who came to me and called himself Beaumont—he was a short elderly gentleman—he said that I should have to pay the duty.
COURT to RICHARD FOLKES. Q. Is there any fiction in the trade which can justify calling this white silk? A. No; this colour is never called white.
GUILTY* on 2nd Count . Aged 31.— Confined Twelve Months .
MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES GILES . I am porter to Michael Ovington and Co., warehousemen, of No. 138, Cheapside. Poulton was their porter, and during the last six or eight months I have seen Shirley walking up and down the front of the warehouse, and have seen Poulton speak to him there—Poulton has never told me who he was—on Monday morning, 19th Nov., at 20 minutes past 9 o'clock, I saw Poulton come down into the packing room with this parcel (produced), and Shirley was outside, in Gutter-lane—Poulton went out with this parcel and a book, and walked on as far as Gutter-lane, and was then joined by Shirley, and I lost sight of them.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. How long has Poulton been in the employ? A. Six years—I have been there two years—ray employers are
wholesale drapers—it I, or any of the servants in the house, wanted a dress length for our wires, sisters, or sweethearts, I dare say the firm would supply it at the wholesale price.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. You have frequently seen Shirley talking to Poulton? A. Yes, and to other persons, in the betting-office, but not there—I live in the house—Pouiton lives at No. 137, Hunter-street, Old Kent-road—Shirley has been outside, and has asked me to call Poulton out—Poulton has told me that Shirley was a friend of his.
CHARLES THAIN (City policeman). I am a detective—I received information, and watched Messrs. Ovington's premises on 19th Nov., and about a quarter past 9 o'clock in the morning, I saw Poulton come out of the ware-house with a paper parcel and a small red book—he walked on as far as the end of Gutter-lane, joined Shirley, and they walked down Gutter-lane, through Goldsmith-street, across Wood-street, into Mitre-street, which leads from Wood-street to Milk-street—in the narrow part of the court I saw Poulton hand the parcel to Shirley—they were in conversation about a minute, and Poulton returned the same way that he had come—Shirley went on, across Milk-street, through Honey-lane market, into Cheapside—I stopped him, and said, "What is in that parcel? "and, "Where are you going to take it to? "—he said, "I do not know"—I said, "I must take you to the station-house; it is strange that you do not know where you are going to take it, nor what are the contents"—he said, "I got it from a man who works at the firm of Ovington and Co., named Poulton"—I lodged him in the station—(they had taken a circuitous route, and came into Cheapside again)—I then went to the warehouse, and told Poulton that I was an officer, and came to apprehend him, for robbing his employers—he said, "Let me get my cap first"—on the way to the station he said, "What do you charge me with stealing? "—I said, "That parcel which you gave to that man in Mitre-court, a few minutes ago"—he said, "I have given no parcel to any man in Mitre-court; I have not been out of the warehouse this morning"—I took him to the station, placed him beside Shirley, opened the parcel, and it contained these two pieces of woollen cloth (produced)—I charged Poulton with stealing it, and Shirley with receiving it—they made no reply.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLET. Q. Are you sure you saw Poulton in Mitre-court? A. I am—he joined Shirley in Gutter-lane—these are women's cloth dresses.
JOHN DAVIS WELCH . I am a partner in the firm of Ovington and Co. Poulton was our porter—these dresses are our property—if he made application to us to purchase them, we should supply them—they are wool and cotton, embossed with silk, and each piece contains from seventeen to nineteen yards—the value of the two is about 3l.—Poulton had no right to take them away that morning.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. I have been told that Poulton has been in your employ about six years? A. About that—we should supply him at wholesale price if he applied to us—we have not supplied goods to him, of my own personal knowledge—he has a wife—if these had been supplied to him without my knowledge, I think I should have some trace of them in the books—it is likely that he has had goods supplied to him in previous years—it is usual when a parcel is taken out to have it entered as for delivery.
POULTON— GUILTY. Aged 28.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury .— Confined Six Months .
SHIRLEY— NOT GUILTY .
MR. CAARTEN conducted the Prosecution.
(The witnesses did not appear.)
(MR. RECORDER stated that he had read the depositions, and considered. that, although the prisoners were very bad children, there was no case of robbery against them; upon which MR. CAARTEN withdrew from the prosecution.)
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, Nov. 29th, 1855.
PRESENT—Lord Chief Baron POLLOCK; Mr. Justice ERLE; Mr. Ald.
CHALLIS; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; and Mr. Ald.'EAGLETON.
Before the Lord Chief Baron Pollock and the Fourth Jury.
MESSRS. BODKIN and CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
MARGARET LORDON . I am the prisoner's daughter; the deceased, Catherine Lordon, was my mother—I was living with my father and mother in Parliament-court, Finsbury, near the Old Artillery-ground—we had only one room, the front room, second floor—my father and mother, myself and two brothers occupied the same room—my brothers are younger than I, one is fourteen, and the other twelve years of age—my father used to be a weaver—for some time before my mother's death he had been employed in the tea warehouse, at St. Katherine's Docks—on Monday night, 17th Sept, I was at a raffle at the Green Dragon public house—it was a raffle for the benefit of my mother—I went there about 10 o'clock by myself—when I got there, I found Mr. Kingston, my father and mother, and two of my mother's brothers, their wives, and a daughter of one of them, and several other people—Kingston worked in the same employment as my father—he was an acquaintance of my father's—my father was intoxicated, and so was Kingston—my mother was sober, she might have had a drop of some-thing to drink, but you could not see it—I remained at the Green Dragon till twenty minutes after 12 o'clock—there was not much drinking going on, while I was there—there were several pots of porter had, but no spirits—about a quarter after 10 o'clock one of my brothers came in for me, to fetch me—I did not go with him—upon that, my father shoved me, and one of my uncles, Daniel Crees, got up and took my father by the shoulder, and pushed him down the stairs—in about twenty minutes afterwards, my father came back again to the room, and brought a pint of beer in his hand—Thomas Crees then took him by the waist and half way carried him down stairs, and then let him fall the rest—my father was tipsy at that time—he was not more tipsy than he was before—he did not return to the room after that—I remained there till a quarter past 12 o'clock, and then went home with my mother—as we went out of the public house I saw my father standing on the kerb—he did not speak to us—as we were going home we met Kingston at the door—he was at the door when we came there—he sent me for a pot of beer, and he, and my mother, and I drank it at the door, in the court—I took the pot back and then returned,
and remained at the door of the house with my mother and Kingston—while we were standing there I saw my father come through the court—he shoved through us, between my mother and me without speaking, and went into the house—I do not recollect Kingston calling out anything to him as he went by—I believe my father went up stairs—I don't know whether he went to his own room—while I was standing in the court with my mother and Kingston, a piece of wood came out of the first floor window—that was not our window—I believe it struck Kingston—he called out to my father, and my father came down into the court with a poker in his hand—Kingston said to my father, "Will you fight like a man? "—my father struck Kingston with the poker, they then had a struggle, and both fell on the pavement, and then Kingston got up and went away—my father, after that, went up into his room on the second floor—I followed him—I went into the room and lay down on the bed—my father went out again about two minutes afterwards—my mother was on the third landing at that time—my father went out and went through the court, but I could not see which way he turned—in about ten minutes he came back—I was then on the first floor landing—he passed me—it was dark there, he could not see me as he went by—he went up into his room on the second floor, and locked the door—my two brothers were at that time asleep in the room—I passed the night on the first floor landing—ray mother passed the night on the third floor landing—about half-past 5 o'clock in the morning my mother called one of my brothers to go to his work—he left the house just before 6 o'clock—about half an hour afterwards my other brother went out—my mother called him to go—he left about twenty minutes to 7 o'clock—I walked to the door of the court with him—after that, my mother came down stairs to me at the door—she took a walk with me in the street—I was going somewhere to some business I had—before I parted with my mother, I saw my father at the corner of Sandy's-row; that is a court close by where we live—that was about quarter to 7 o'clock—I parted with my mother at the top of the street—that was the last time I saw her alive—I heard of her death about quarter to 8 o'clock.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY (with Mr. Lawrence). Q. I think I understood you to say that it was Kingston who sent for the pot of beer in the evening? A. Yes, it was a whole pot of beer—I, and my mother, and he partook of it—I have known Kingston as long as I can remember—my father is a weaver by trade—he has not been in the habit of working as a weaver lately—I am eighteen years old—my father has been out of work as a weaver since Christmas—before that time he worked as a weaver—he used to try to get a living by jobbing at the docks—my two brothers are in employment—I used to be in service—I have seen Kingston more often with my mother lately than ever, more often than ever this last six months—I only know by what I have heard, that my mother has stayed out all night—I do not know it, I was away at the time—I heard it from my mother—Kingston used to work at the same place as my father—they used to be very friendly—Kingston was behaving as a friend to father during the last six months—my mother told me that she had been out all night at a coffee house with Kingston—I do not know it of my own knowledge—the raffle at the Green Dragon was for my mother's benefit—I do not know that my mother had given Kingston a ticket—I cannot say that she went to the raffle with Kingston, I was not there then—I did not go there before 10 o'clock, I then found my mother there, and Kingston, and my father—my mother was not tipsy during the evening, she might have had a drop to
drink—she was not tipsy at all during the evening, my father was—he wan very tipsy when the log of wood was thrown out of the window—that was not a usual habit with him—he was generally a sober man—at he came down with the poker, Kingston said to him, "Here is the b—vagabond"—Kingston was not so tipsy as my father—for the last two or three years my mother was very much addicted to being tipsy, she was constantly drunk—my father was generally a sober man—I have known my mother throw things at my father—she has thrown a jug at him—I have known her violent towards him—she was in the habit of being violent towards him, and throwing things at him, and irritating him with her tongue, as well as throwing things; it was very irritating—I have heard her so, sometimes very bitter—on one occasion, a short time ago, she bit my father's leg, and he has suffered from it ever since; it is not well yet—that was about twelve months ago—she bit his leg and his hand—I do not remember whether it was at the same time—my father became very much annoyed latterly by Kingston's attentions to my mother—he has always behaved kindly to all of us, he was one of the best of fathers—he has endeavoured to bring us up well—I have not been educated at all—I can read, but not write—one of my brothers is a pasteboard maker, and the other is in an oil shop—they get their living in an honest, respectable way—my mother has at times out and destroyed my father's work, when the drink was on her; she has done that in the middle of the day—when sober she was a very kind mother—the work she cut was on the loom, and that destroyed the work altogether—she cut it across—he had a knife with which he used to work—that was the fatal knife, it was his work knife—my mother used to hide it from him at times, and secrete it in order that he should not work—he had a work ticket to let him in at the docks if he was called—she used to take that ticket and hide it as well as the knife—I found the ticket under the bed after this sad occurrence—she was on the habit of taking away the knife and ticket from my father, to prevent his working—that was when she was evil-minded, when the drink was on her—my father used to hide the knife under the bed, in order to prevent her doing it, and his work ticket also—the knife was not under the bed where my father had hid it, it was at my mother's side—I cannot say whether father put it under the bed then—I did not say he was in the habit of putting it under the bed, he looked it up in a box—I cannot say who put it under the bed, it was at mother's side—he was anxious to keep it away from her, so that she should not get at it—I have seen my mother draw this very knife across her throat—sometimes she has been tipsy when she has done that, not always; I have seen her do it many times—she used to be out very late, till 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning.
MR. CLERK. Q. Was the knife you speak of a knife that he had to work with in the docks? A. Yea—this is it (looking at one)—it was usually kept in this sheath when it was in the house—my father first began to work in the docks soon after Christmas—he has not done any work as a weaver since Christmas—he got this knife to work in the docks, he had it made for the purpose—it was not with this knife that my mother used to cut his weaving work—it was before Christmas that she did that—she used to throw jugs at father, and take a knife and put it across the work—I never heard my father make use of any expression against Kingston with regard to my mother—he was annoyed at Kingston being with my mother, my mother told me so—I was then in a situation, and she came to me and told me about it—she told me that my father had this feeling—I never heard my
father make any complaint on the subject—I never saw anything myself to justify such a complaint—I have seen my mother draw the knife across her throat on more than one occasion—she did not cut herself with it.
COURT. Q. How old was your mother? A. Forty-five—there are no younger children than my two brothers—there were none who died—there are two other girls, I am the youngest girl—there are six children—I have three brothers, one older than me, and two younger, and two sisters—my eldest brother is twenty years of age—I never had any brothers and sisters that did not live—all the children that father and mother had have lived, and been brought up—my mother was sometimes tipsy when she drew the knife across her throat—I have known her do that several times, when father and she have been quarrelling.
JANE CREES . The deceased was my daughter—I was at the raffle the night before her death—I recollect the prisoner coming in with Kingston—they were both tipsy, Kingston was worse than Lordon—my daughter has been married to the prisoner twenty-six years—she was forty-eight years of age to the best of my recollection—there was a large party of my relations at this raffle, and a number of other persons—I think it was half past 12 o'clock before they all dispersed—I stayed to the end.
JOHN DAVIS . I am a labourer, employed at Mr. Cohen's, No. 7, Drurypassage. I lodged in the same house as the deceased and the prisoner—I occupied the second floor back, the room adjoining theirs—about 7 o'clock on the morning in question, I heard screams of"Murder! "seven or eight times in the adjoining room—it was Mrs. Lordon's voice—I also heard the prisoner's voice—I heard him call her a b—w—, and a b—b—I then heard a wrestling at the door, and I heard the deceased running down stairs—about a minute or two afterwards I heard footsteps, which I supposed to be Mr. Lordon's, go down stairs; and after that I heard"Murder! "screamed three times from the deceased—I then heard the same footstep, which I believed to be Mr. Lordon, come up stairs again; and I heard him walking about his own room—I was in bed at this time—I did not get up directly—I did about five or six minutes afterwards—I dressed myself, and I heard the footstep walking about in the room while I was dressing myself—I was about three or four minutes dressing myself—I then came out of my room—I observed that the prisoner's door was half open—I did not go into the room, I merely looked in as I passed by, and I saw a pool of blood down against the door, half in and half out, and a slipper lying in the blood—I cannot say whether it was a woman's slipper—I then went down the stairs, and I saw blood all down the stairs—when I came to the first landing, I saw the deceased lying on the landing with her head on her hands, and her elbows leaning on her knees—both her hands were up to her head—I could not see any blood, nor any wound—she was sitting on the landing, on the top of, the first flight of stairs, on the boards of the landing, not on the top stair; her feet were bent up under her—I called; "Mrs. Lordon! Mrs. Lordon! "twice, but received no answer—I then went down stairs, and went out to our shop, and told my fellow-servant what I had seen—I returned to the house about ten minutes afterwards, and found there was a constable in the house with the prisoner, and Dr. Shaw—when 1 went in, the prisoner said to me, "Halloo, John! "—I said, "Halloo, Lordon! what do you call this? "he said, "It is a bad job"—I then saw the wound, and said, "Yes, it is"—the woman then appeared to be dead—I saw some spots of blood on the prisoner's neck handkerchief—he appeared to have been drinking—he was able to walk about, but I could see that he had been drinking by his eyes—
he looked like a man that had been drinking the night before—he has drunk a little, but always knew how to behave himself, ha was never the worse for liquor—his wife was very much given to drink.
Cross-examined. Q. As far as you observed, he was rather a sober man than otherwise, was he not? A. Yes, he was—he was a good father, and always a hard working man—I have known him at work at 12 o'clock at night, and at 6 o'clock in the morning, as a weaver—that is a long time to work—the deceased was very violent at times, and aggravating in her conduct—one night I fell over her as she lay drunk in the passage, when I went in at the street door—latterly it used generally to be 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning before she came home—she would kick up a row outside the door, knocking at the door, and one thing and another—she was very violent latterly, and ill conducted from drink—I have not seen her strike her husband—I have several times heard her calling "Murder!" out of window, when I have known her husband to be down stain at the time, and entirely away from her—the prisoner was a kind man towards his children—he was a good tempered man to speak to—he always spoke civilly to me, and always knew how to behave himself—I have known him five years, and have slept in the adjoining room for two years.
COURT. Q. When was it that you heard her call out "Murder!" when you say her husband was away from her? A. That was in the afternoon part, I cannot say what day it was, it is two or three months ago—she was tipsy at that time—I believe he had come down out of the room that he might not hare any row with her—that was about two months before her death.
SARAH ELIAS . I lived with my husband Nathan Elias, in the same house as the prisoner and his wife, in Parliament-court. I occupy the first floor back room—on Tuesday morning, 18th Sept., about 2 o'clock, I heard a noise in the court—I cannot say whether it was a quarrel, or who it was—I heard the deceased's voice, but I could not say who the other parties were—about half past 7 o'clock in the morning, I went from my room down to the yard—as I went down I saw the deceased sitting on the top stair of the first landing, with her face resting in her hands, and her elbows on her knees, with her face turned to the wall—a few minutes afterwards I heard persons coming up stairs after I had returned back to my own room—I did not know that she was dead until I asked what was the matter, and they said a woman had been murdered—I did not speak to her as I went down stairs—I passed her twice, she was about three yards from my door—there were spots of blood, as if somebody's nose had been bleeding, not more than that.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe your opinion of this man was, that he was a good father and a kind man? A. Yes; and a hard working man to maintain his family—the habits of the deceased were rather bad latterly—I remember once, I cannot say how long ago it was, there was a noise between them when she came home, and he came down with his coat in his hand, and said, "I am compelled to leave my work, she has come home to kick up a row"—I said, "Never mind, go out, and she will go to bed and forget it," and he went away to avoid any bother; this was in the day time—I cannot say whether she was drunk at that time—I did not see her, I only heard her.
JOHN DAVIS re-examined. I heard a wrestling at the door on the morning in question, as though there was a struggle—that was at the time I hoard the screams of "Murder!"—the prisoner appeared sober when I saw him in the morning—he walked upright, and talked to me—I could see that he had been drinking by his eyes.
PATRICK HORAN (police sergeant, H 13). I was on duty at the station at Spitalfields on Tuesday morning, 18th Sept.—about half-past 7 o'clock that morning the prisoner came to me at the station, and said, "I surrender myself up to you"—I said to him, "For what? what have you done? "—he answered, "I have killed my wife this morning"—upon that I sent Jackson, a constable, with the prisoner, to his house, and gave him instructtions to call the divisional surgeon if he found anything had happened—the prisoner appeared to me to have been drinking, but I could not say he was drunk—he was pefectly sensible at the time, to the best of my opinion—he presented a very dissipated appearance, and was flushed—he had the air of a man who had been drunk the night before—in about a quarter of an hour after Jackson went with the prisoner they both returned to the station—at that time I observed blood upon his finger—I entered the charge against him, and read it over to him—I charged him, upon his own confession, with having wilfully murdered his wife—when I read that over to him, he said, "That is it."
Cross-examined. Q. Did you notice blood anywhere but on his hand? A. No.
JOHN JACKSON (policeman). By sergeant Horan's direction, I went with the prisoner to his house, in Parliament-court—it was about 150 or 200 yards from the station—it only took two or three minutes to go—I followed the prisoner up to the first-floor landing—I there saw the deceased sitting down in the corner, with her head lying on her knees, and her two arms on her knees likewise—both hands were drooping, hanging down—I took hold of her hands—I believed her to be dead then—her hand was cold—when I lifted up her arm, it dropped down again—I lifted her head up—the face was pale, and I saw blood running from the right side down the breast, and in her lap was a great quantity of blood congealed—when I moved her head, I saw that she was dead—the prisoner was standing by while I did this—I said to him, "Where did you do this, here? "—he said, "No, up stairs"—I said, "What did you do it with?"—he said, "With a knife "—I said, "Where is that knife? "—he said, "Come up stairs, and I will give it you"—I followed him up stairs to the second floor front room—he then gave me a knife—he walked round the bedstead, and took it from the hill of the window—the bedstead was between the door and the window—the knife was wet with blood—at the corner of the door, as I entered the room, I put my foot into a pool of blood—that was just by the bedstead, at the corner of the door—the bedstead was hardly two feet from the door—there was just room for the door to open—the pool of blood extended from the door into the passage—there was blood all the way down the stairs to the landing where I found her—it had gone all the way down—the pool of blood was at the door in the bedroom, and there was blood to the landing—I do not mean that the blood had run down the stairs—it was not a running stream, but drops of blood—there was a quantity of blood in her lap—I asked the prisoner what had taken place previously—he said he had been to a raffle, and had a row with his wife, and he did not wish to say any more to me, he wished to be locked up—I asked him where he had had the knife previous to his striking her, and he lifted up the tick of the bed, and pointed between the bed tick and the mattress, and said, "There; now lock me up as soon as you can," and with that I took him to the station, and locked him up—Mr. Shaw, the surgeon, was sent for directly—I was present when the prisoner afterwards made a statement—he had expressed a wish to see his sister, and he wished
for pen, ink, and paper, to write a note to her—I got him pen, ink, and paper, and told him that what he wrote I would take possession of, and he wrote this note to his sister—(The note was here produced and read, as follows—"My dear Mary, make yourself as happy as you can. If you and I are allowed to speak to each other, I shall be very glad, and I will tell you something. Daniel Lordon. To Mrs. James Mahoney, 11, Johnstreet, Cannon-street-road, St. George's East")—I took that note to his sister, and she came to the station with me—the inspectors Gernor and Marsh were then with the prisoner—they gave him a caution that what he said would be taken down in writing—he was taken out of the cell by the inspectors, and taken into the inspector's charge room, and he and his sister had a seat together—the caution was given in my presence—the answer he made to it was, "Very good," or to that effect—he then made a statement to his sister, which was taken down in writing by Inspector Marsh.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you could not have allowed them to have a private interview, that would not have been right? A. I do not know, I was under the orders of the inspector.
GEORGE MARSH (police inspector, H). I went to the place where the death occurred on the morning in question—I afterwards returned to the station, and was there when the prisoner's sister arrived—the prisoner was at that time in a cell—I brought him out of the cell into the office—I asked him if he wished to speak to his sister—he said, "Yes"—I said, "You cannot do so unless in the presence of the police; but if you do wish to speak to her, I shall take down what you say in writing, and use it as a statement before the Magistrate"—he said, "I am aware of that, I do wish to speak to her"—he then made a statement to his sister, which I took down, and produce—I wrote it down as he spoke it to his sister, in the presence of inspector Gernon—after he had concluded his statement, I gave it to Gernon to sign—he signed it, and then read it aloud in the hearing of the prisoner, and he either said, "That is right" or, "That is correct"—this was near 2 o'clock in the day—I had seen the prisoner shortly after 10 o'clock that morning—he looked to me like a man that had been drinking very heavily over night.
Cross-examined. Q. If a man under the circumstances in which the prisoner was placed sends for his sister, is it usual for a police inspector to stand by during the interview to listen to them? A. I do not know that it is unusual, I did so—I do not know whether it is usual or not—I did it with the best intention, I thought it necessary—I should not allow the sister of a man in such a case to have a private interview with him.
ANDREW GERNON (police inspector, H). I was there when the prisoner's sister came—the prisoner made a statement, which was taken down in writing, and which I afterwards read over—upon my doing to, the prisoner said, "It is correct," or words to that effect—this is the statement, I signed it—(Read:—Statement of Daniel Lordon, 18th Sept., 1855—"I had an appointment with a man to get some work, I saw him at the place appointed, at a beer shop, near the London Docks. I went in and he was there, we had several pints of porter, and we came away; the man said he had a card for a raffle. I said, 'My wife will do no good with it;' he said, 'Will you go? "I said, 'No.' He said, 'If you'll go, I'll go.' I said, 'I will go;' and a row took place at the Green Dragon beer shop, Half Moon-street: one of my wife's brothers threatened to throw me down stairs. I then came towards home, and saw it was dark in the passage, and heard a man named Kingston talking to my wife on the stairs; I do not
know whether I spoke first or not. Kingston and me struck each other, had several blows—I cannot say who struck first, he aggravated me very much. I struck Kingston with a poker. I then went out again and spoke to a policeman, a city man, saying the people wished to waylay me; he told me to go away. I went home, lay upon the bed, and believe I took off the coat; my wife called the two boys this morning. I went down stairs and spoke harshly to my wife, and went up stairs again, and lay down; she came in soon after, and I asked what she did there. No further words ensued, when I put my hand under the tick, took the knife, and inflicted the wound now seen, which caused her death. I have no more to say." Taken down by me, in the presence of inspectors Gernon and Constable; also, sergeant Horan, and P. C. (159) Jackson.—G. MARSH, inspector.—Witness. A. GERNON. inspector.)
Cross-examined. Q. Is it a usual practice to take down the particulars of an interview between a brother and sister in this way? A. I do not think there is anything wrong in it—this is all right—we allow no prisoner to make a statement unless some of us are present, when they request to make a statement—we cautioned him first—I was not there when he came to the station in the morning.
HENRY SHAW . I am a surgeon in Bishopsgate-street—I accompanied the policeman to the house in question on the morning this matter occurred—I got there about 8 o'clock—I saw the body of the deceased woman on the first landing, doubled up—I found a wound in the throat, it was a jagged cut—I have seen the knife produced—it appeared to be a stab wound—there were two wounds, one was a horizontal wound, and the other an oblique wound, about two and a half or three inches long—the fatal wound was two and a half or three inches long—I have no doubt that that wound caused her death—it was the result of a blow of great force—I examined the vertebrae afterwards, and found that a portion of it was chipped—that would indicate considerable force.
COURT. Q. In what manner must it have caused death? A. The carotid artery was half divided—that would occasion almost immediate death, and a great flow of blood—I should think she would not be likely to live more than a minute after it.
Q. Would she be able to run down stairs afterwards? A. It would be as much as she would be able to do, to get those few yards—the other wound was on a line with the collar bone—it was a deep wound, and more of a stab—it was the breadth of the knife—it went very deep, but did not wound any vital part—there was no large vessel divided by it—it might produce a little blood, but there was no gush of blood—a little blood would run out—I saw the place—I have no doubt that the mortal wound was g iven up stairs—I have no doubt in my mind that the other wound, the one above the collar bone, was given first, and the mortal wound last.
JURY. Q. According to the evidence, he went down to her afterwards when she was on the first landing, and she then screamed "Murder!" two or three times; is that consistent? A. I don't think it possible that she would be able to utter, after she got down, in the position in which she was when I saw her—according to my notion, the two wounds could not have been inflicted together—I think both wounds were given up stairs.
Q. After the second wound being given, could there have been any struggle? A. There might be a momentary struggle—after the mortal wound was given she would not have more than time to get down to the position in which she was when I Haw her, the loss of blood would make her faint—most likely the struggle was between the two wounds, or, perhaps, before—
there could not have been any struggle on her part after the mortal wound, it must have been before.
(Samuel Hassell, a weaver; James Davis, a weaver, of Spital-street; Charles Surley; Charles Carey; Jeremiah Murphy, a tailor; Daniel Reardon; and William Hayes, a weaver, deposed to the prisoner's good character for many years.)
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of his former good conduct .
Before Mr. Justice Erle and the Second Jury.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS BIRCHMORE . I am the relieving overseer of the parish of St. Pancras, and have been so for some years. In consequence of complaints made to me, I think on 21st Sept. last, I inquired into the state of the lad James Frederick Weedon—he was one of five children belonging to the prisoner, at that time living in a house in Compton-street, Brunswick-square—I also found a woman living with the prisoner, a strong, stout woman—she was not the mother of the children, but a woman with whom he cohabited—the deceased boy was twelve years of age, I think—he was a very small, decrepid looking child—I found him sitting on a stool by the side of his father, sewing round the toe of a shoe, with the usual leather apron on, and a strap upon his foot—he was in a very miserable, emaciated condition; he was covered with vermin, and was a mere shadow, skin and bone, nothing more—it was a fearful sight that all of them presented—I found some food in the cupboard, part of a neck of mutton, and there was a saucepan on the fire, with some vegetables, as they told me, and they had bread—the prisoner and the woman were looking very well and healthy—the whole of the children were in a wretched condition; I took them at once to the Clerkenwell police court—the prisoner said he believed a good deal had been said against him which was untrue, that there was a conspiracy against him, and he was very thankful I had come to make an inquiry—I asked him if he would accompany me to the police court, which he consented to do, and he went—he told me that he had corrected his children, the deceased, and a younger boy, for going through the streets, and picking up what he called muck in the street, and they had promised him they would not do so again, and he believed they would not; but they were in the habit of doing so, notwithstanding what he gave them—before I went to the police court, I sent for Dr. Morris Davis to see the state in which the children were—from the police court I took the deceased to the workhouse, where he was immediately placed under the care of Mr. Waldegrave, the house surgeon—he got better for a time and seemed to have more flesh upon him, and then he rapidly sank, and died about three weeks ago—a girl also died, the others have improved very much—they look like children now, they looked more like ancient people before, than infants, they were ghastly creatures.
Prisoner Q. You say you found my children all covered with vermin? A. Yes, their heads—I saw quantities of lice in their hair, I did not see any upon their bodies—I cannot speak as to their clothing, they were chiefly about their necks—the boys had clean collars on, although their clothes were very dirty and ragged; it seemed to me as if somebody was expected to come, and they were put off to the best advantage—I did not observe their linen, it appeared to me very dirty, it might hare been clean on on the Sunday—I should say the meat I saw in the cupboard was enough for a meal—there appeared to be some bread in the cupboard and some cold
potatoes—you told me there were some potatoes in the saucepan, I did not open the I lid to see.
MR. METCALFE. Q. I suppose you did not make any very minute investtigation of the children at that time? A. I did subsequently, not then—I did not take their clothes off.
HENRY MEEKINS . I am a milkman, and live at No. 2, Little Guildford-street I carry my milk about myself—I have seen the prisoner's children about the street—my attention was called to the deceased boy somewhere about July—it might have been about Aug. or Sept.—I knew him when they were living in the Colonnade, and in Compton-street, and before that—he was in a very bad state—my attention was first called to him as I was feeding my fowls out at the door—he was coming up the street, and he ran into the road and picked up some of the cold potatoes that I was throwing out to the fowls, and began to eat them ravenously, using both hands—I asked him where he lived, and he told me in the Colonnade—I have seen him pick up pieces in the street two or three times—he was very thin, and very dirty, and had several nasty bruises about him, and he looked regularly deplorable—he had a cap on—he came into my house, and I took off his cap, and fed him in my house, and I told him to come every day about 3 o'clock—I fed him I suppose for about a month; it might have been more—he improved under that treatment in a fortnight, he did not look like the same boy—I continued to feed him until his father moved out of the Colonnade, when he refused his coming to me any more; so the boy told me, and so did his father—he told me he would not allow his boy to come to me any more, because he was encroaching upon me, and the boy told him my wife looked cool upon him—I said my wife did nothing of the sort—there was a great deal of altercation in front of his house, and a great mob assembled, and cried shame upon Weed on—it was several parties standing by, not me; I did not interfere, because I had my milk pails and was about my business—I did not see the boy again after that until a day or two before he was taken to the work-house—he was then in a very bad state—he came up to me in the street as I was coming along Old Compton-street, and said, "How do you do, sir? "—I put down my pails, and shook hands with him—he said he was hungry, and asked me for a halfpenny or a penny, which I gave him—I had been in the habit of giving him a halfpenny or a penny—he was in his shirt sleeves—I took up his shirt sleeves, and his little arms were very thin, and very dirty, you could have scratched the dirt off; and there were two very bad places on his head, nearly the size of a shilling, with the hair and skin cut right off—I asked how he came by them, and he said, "That is where father hit me"—some men took him down opposite his father's window, and they called him out to show him the child, and there was a mob round the door—the prisoner came out, and said to me, "Why did you not come to me like a man? "—there was an altercation, and they hooted and pelted him, and he ran in doors.
Prisoner. I knew nothing about my boy going to his place until about a week or two before the noise and talk that there was, and then the boy told me of it, and said that this gentleman's good lady had told him he had better go home now, and I told him he had better not go any more, he would be troublesome; I wanted to bring my children up a credit to me and themselves; they were ill for years; as regards his head, he used to pick it with his nails as he sat reading or sewing, there were three or four places. Witness. I do not know that my wife did tell the boy that he had better go home—I cannot say how the places on his head came, but
it was a strange place for a boy to pick such places in—it appeared the result of a blow.
JOSEPH PARSONS . I am a coal dealer, and live at No. 7, Colonnade, Brunswick-square. I have known the prisoner since May, 1854—he took a room from me in May, 1854, and staid there till June, 1855, and then he moved to Old Compton-street—I lived in the same house—I had the shop—the prisoner lived there with his five children—the woman did not live with him at first—she was lodging in the house with a woman in the first floor front—she afterwards lived with the prisoner, and moved with him to Compton-street—for the first three months they were at my house, the children were kept complete prisoners indoors, and were not allowed to go out for anything; then by my persuasion he did let them come down for about half an hour at a time—an old lady and one or two neighbours cried shame on him for keeping them so confined—he did several jobs for me, and I had a chance then of going up into his room, and I have frequently seen the deceased lad—he was a cripple, and very much knock-kneed—I tried to persuade the prisoner to let him go the hospital, but he would not—I have frequently seen him, when the lad has been at work, and has not done something to suit him, hit him on the knees with a hammer, and several times with a last—they were rather harder blows than I should like to have had—I have seen him throw the last across the room at them—they were kept very dirty—I think they had but very little food, for they were always picking up anything they could see in the street, and the neighbours all round were giving them something to eat—they were, as you may say, walking ghosts—I considered them quite starved—I never examined the deceased boy to see whether he had any sores about him.
Prisoner. He has taken a false oath as regards my striking my children; I never struck them with a hammer in all my life, nor yet threw a last at them—this man has kept me out of 6d. and 2d. which I paid him on a table I bought of him, and he kept me out of it this winter, when I had the rheumatic gout, and my children were wanting bread. Witness. I had a table, which I said he might have for 18d.—he paid me 6d. towards it, and about eight or nine months afterwards he sent down for the sixpence, but I said it was not likely I would give it him after so long a time, and he had forfeited the sixpence—he never had the table—I do not consider I owe him a farthing—I have repeatedly seen him strike the lad on the left knee with the hammer.
ELIZA RUMSEY . I am a widow, and live at No. 17, Compton-street, Brunswick-square—that is the house in which the prisoner was living at the time he was taken—I lodged there for twelve months—I frequently saw the prisoner's five children—he is a shoemaker by trade—he was always at work—I have frequently known him to be at work at 11 o'clock at night—he had constant employment—the woman that lived with him also worked at binding shoes—she used to say she could earn 7s. or 8s. a week—I do not know at all what the prisoner used to earn—the deceased child used to work—I have seen him at the window, at work—the children were kept apparently very filthy and ragged—I should think they could not have had sufficient food—they were mere shadows, and I have seen them pick up pieces of bread and things from the dust hole and out of the yard, and eat them—they were dreadfully ill treated—the eldest girl was violently beaten, and the big boy too, according to the prisoner's own statement, when I spoke to him about it one day; I heard him, violently beating the girl, who was screaming, and I went out into the
yard, and said, "Weedon, don't beat the girl so"—he had a cane in his hand, and he said to me and another person, "You b—y women, come and share a part of it"—he said at the time that he had beaten the girl and the boy too, and he should beat them all when he chose—I have frequently heard their cries as late as 11 o'clock at night—I hare been obliged to knock at the ceiling as I was in bed—that was on account of the cries of the children, more particularly from the big girl—I cannot say so much of the little ones, for they were kept in so much—they were cries as of children suffering pain—I never went into their room at all.
Prisoner. You complained that the girl had picked out something from the dust hole, and we were trying to shame her out of it Witness. You used to beat her as I should have been ashamed to beat a child, and you allowed the woman to do so too—she was most cruelly used by that woman, and I have known you beat her with a cane when she has been coughing so violently that I thought she would drop on the stairs—I did not tell you that my children had been brought down by the hoping cough just in the same way as yours—I have only got one that had it, and she has not been brought down by it.
SUSANNAH JONES . My husband is a cab proprietor; we lived in Compton-street, right opposite the house in which the prisoner lived. I have frequently seen the deceased boy at the parlour window, before the father or the woman were up, picking the vermin out of his head, and rubbing them, and throwing them on the floor, and I have frequently seen him grubbing after things in the gutter which I should think it impossible for an animal to eat, let alone a Christian—I do not think he was picking any sores on his head, he was picking the vermin out, as if the poor dear was tormented by them, and could not rest—I have seen him pick stuff out of the gutter and eat it, after 8 o'clock in the evening, when he has been out on an errand—I have seen him voraciously eating gooseberry skins that have been thrown away—I could see into their room from my window—I have seen the father and this woman sitting, eating, but I never saw a child sit nigh them—one night I saw the prisoner cooking some fish that had been given for the children—I saw him and the woman sit down and eat their supper, and the eldest girl and boy were standing in front of the fire, turning their heads towards them every now and then, no doubt wishing they were sitting with them—I did not see them get anything, up to my bed time, and then the prisoner was sitting at work at the window—he was working late that evening—I never saw the children have the share of a meal—I never saw them have a bit of bread, or anything—I never saw them eat—I do not know what they might have done, but I did not see it—it was that one particular evening that I noticed, and that was the only time that my attention was so drawn to the window, to see if I could witness any of the children taking part of it with them—I could not exactly say what sort of food I have seen there—I frequently saw the prisoner go in with a very nice large pie on a Sunday—I have frequently seen fruit, and shrimps, and water cresses of a morning, and strawberries in the season—I have fed the children—I have only seen one of them ill treated, the eldest girl—I never saw the boy ill treated.
Prisoner. If you had come as a neighbour into my place, you would have been able to see that I gave them as much food as a poor man could give them. Witness. You were a stranger to me—I only go by witnessing your children in a most dreadful state—my children go over to Mrs. Rumsey's sometimes, but I do not think I ever exchanged two words with her until this circumstance happened—I never was in her place.
MR. METCALFE. Q. I believe you and your husband brought this to the attention of the parish authorities? A. Yes.
Prisoner. She says she frequently saw me take a pie to the bake house; I never did but once, and then I had to ask Mrs. Rumsey to lend me a pie dish, and she could not. Witness. I have seen it twice.
SAMUEL WALDEGRAVE . I am resident surgeon at St. Pancras work-house. I saw the children when they were brought in—the deceased child was wretchedly emaciated, scarcely any skin on his bones—the bones had not come through the skin, but there was very little covering—he was very filthy, and covered with vermin—I found no marks of violence about his person—he was suffering from hopping cough at the time—that alone would not have been sufficient to reduce him to the state in which I found him—it scarcely reduces a child at all under ordinary circumstances.
COURT. Q. But it is fatal sometimes, is it not? A. It is sometimes, in consequence of inflammation of the lungs supervening.
MR. METCALFE. Q. There was no such affection here? A. No—the boy was suffering from tubercular disease of the lungs, consumption—there was suppuration, there was a cavity in the lungs at that time—he only lived one month after his admission.
COURT. Q. Could the very best diet have prevented such a child from being emaciated? A. No, but want of proper necessaries might have brought him into that condition, it might have engendered the disease—consumption does often come without that, it is very often an hereditary taint, but it is very often produced by insufficiency of food—the child died from disease of the lungs, but that disease was accelerated by withholding proper necessaries—he was expectorating pus at that time.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Supposing there were originally some taint in the lungs, would the treatment that you have heard described aggravate that disease? A. Unquestionably, and would probably present the appearances I found—it would accelerate the death of the child—in fact, the only treatment for such patients is to give them as large an amount of nutritious food as they can possibly take; and, of course, the withholding it from such a child would accelerate his death.
COURT. Q. Did you try better diet, after he came in, under your treatment for any length of time? A. Yes—he was put on the most nutritious diet that he could take, port wine and mutton chops, and I gave him cod liver oil—for about a fortnight he seemed somewhat to improve under that treatment, and then he fell back again, and rapidly declined, in fact, he was in a hopeless condition when he came into the workhouse.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did you make a post mortem examination? A. I did—there was extensive disease—in my judgment, from what I saw of the child, from the post mortem examination, and from the evidence I have heard of the treatment the child received, the neglect contributed to its death, it accelerated it.
COURT. Q. Was there any other disease of a fatal nature except that of the lungs? A. No, the disease was entirely confined to the lungs—it is very difficult to state positively of what standing that disease was, the child had been expectorating pus for five or six weeks before he came into the workhouse; and it is possible that tubercles might have existed in the lungs for a considerable period before that, for twelve months, or for two years—during all that time the child would have a tendency to be very
much emaciated; there is always defective nutrition when tubercles exist in the lungs—there is always a wasting of the body, more or less, but not of that extreme kind, until the tubercles soften down, and pus is expectorated; of course, to expose such a child to the treatment described would be to aggravate the symptoms in every possible way—the girl has since died—the other children have improved very much indeed, wonderfully—at this time they are robust, and in good health—that would assist me in coming to a conclusion as to the state in which they had been kept—I apprehend that they have since had a better diet than a poor man's children would have—they were all suffering from hopping cough, and were, therefore, put on better diet than a man in the prisoner's circumstances could give them—they have had mutton diet and porter—I see no reason why they should not grow up robust.
Prisoner Q. You say they were covered with vermin, it was only their heads, was it? A. Their bodies were also covered with bites from vermin—the deceased child was ricketty from its birth, and that would grow from weakness.
The prisoner, in his defence, made a statement of some length, but in a very feeble and indistinct voice; it was to the effect that for upwards often years he had been struggling through severe poverty and illness to support himself, his wife and family; that after his wife's death his troubles became heavier; his elder children were afflicted and could render him little or no assistance, and being a poor mechanic himself he could only do work of an inferior description, and earn small wages, from 10s. to 11s. a week, when able to work; and with the aid of the person who, subsequently, came to live with him and take care of his children, about 17s.; that nearly the whole of last winter he was laid up with rheumatic gout, and unable to work, and but for the assistance of charitable persons they must all have starved; that the children always partook of what he had; and as to the strawberries and fruit alluded to, it was purchased with a penny, and a halfpenny given to the children, and was eaten by themselves.
HANNAH ROWDEN . I am a housekeeper, and live at No. 4, Wilmot-street, Brunswick-square—I have known the prisoner from fourteen to eighteen years, before he was married—at that time we kept a shoemaker's shop in Kingsgate-street, Holborn, and he worked for us, and has done so, on and off, up to the present time—he was always a very poor workman and not able to do good work, but repairing, and what we term tenpenny work—the children were always in a very poor, sickly state, born and bred in starvation—they were always in a dreadful state of poverty, I have relieved them over and over again when they lived in Bedford-court, with a small amount, such as 6d. at a time, and a few old clothes—his poor wife then was in the greatest distress—I never knew him do anything wrong in all his life, he was always sober and honest, he would not have a loaf of bread if he could not pay for it—I had no idea there was anything amiss between him and his children—they have been in the habit of coming backwards and forwards to my shop with little jobs of work—his son James was a cripple, he had knock knees—he was in my shop a fortnight previous to this occurrence, and he then had the hooping cough dreadfully; in fact, all the children had it—the boy coughed so badly while he was at my shop that he was obliged to go out and go to the kerb—for the last few months they were very badly off, and were quite objects—I believe the hooping cough began in May or June—the prisoner used to earn from 14s. to 15s. a week with us some years back, but latterly,
sometimes 3s. or 4s.; and some weeks we have hardly been able to give him anything to do, as our work has been of a better sort than it used to be—we always gave him some little thing to do whenever we could—for the last four or five years I do not think he has taken more than 5s. or 6s. a week from me—he used to work for Mr. Mitchelmore, of Drake-street, who was very kind to him and gave him work, as I did, more out of kindness than anything else—I do not know what he earned there—last winter he had a very bad illness, and a bad cough, and was not able to do any work for a long time—some charitable ladies gave him relief, or I do not know what he would have done—on the Tuesday that this affair happened, I went to his lodgings, No. 17, Compton-street, and there was a mob of people outside—I saw Mrs. Ward, his landlady—she went with me to the inquest, and would have come here to day to speak for him, but she is ill—the prisoner's wife was a good, kind mother to the children, and he was, to all appearance, a fond, affectionate father, I was surprised at the clamour raised against him—I have never been inside their room at Compton-street since this woman has been living with him—I have been to the house with work, but did not go in, on account of the hooping cough, having a little child with me—I have not seen how the children were treated since the woman came.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Have you seen anything of then for two years? A. Oh, yes, I have never lost sight of them for two years—I have never been in their room since he left Bedford-court, that is about two years ago—I have a husband and children—my husband is not here—I generally pay the workmen—I believe the prisoner has been working for Mr. Taylor, a boot maker, in Lamb's Conduit-street—that is a good shop—he has not been constantly working for Mr. Taylor, he is not able to do good work—Mr. Taylor is a first class boot maker—I would have given him work if he could have done it—I never paid him more than 15s. a week, and he was not earning anything else then—for the last four or five years, I do not believe he has taken more than it. or 5s. a week from me, on an average, and in his illness he earned nothing.
MRS. WARBOYS. I knew the prisoner while he lodged in the same house, No. 7, Colonnade, Brunswick-square. I considered him a good father, and that he did his duty as far as he was able in supporting his children—the person who went to live with him lodged with me—I have occasionally been to his room—I have seen the children at meals—I do not know that they were treated so bad—I have times seen them sitting at meals with the prisoner when I have taken in jobs for him to repair—I have seen them taking part of the family dinner, the same as my own children—in my opinion, he acted as well a 8s. father could be expected to acts according to his circumstances—he lay very ill last winter, and they would have starved, had it not been for some benevolent ladies and the woman that lived with him—she did not live with him then—she lodged with me, but she went to them from 9 o'clock in the morning till 6 in the evening, and she went to the parish to get relief for them, and to the Soup Kitchen, and also got tickets for coals—she is a shoe binder, but she could not do anything then, for she poisoned two of her fingers by attending to a bad head of one of the little boys, not the one who is dead—that was at the time the prisoner was ill, and under Dr. Piddock, of the Bloomsbury Dispensary—she did not take their food—she lodged and slept with me then—I believe it was asthma that the prisoner had—he had a dreadful cough—after they moved to Compton-street the children came occasionally
to a person on the first floor, to borrow a last or some material to work with, and I saw them then—that is since July—they went away with the hooping cough—my little boy was confined with it at the same time, and I was told they had the scarletina when they got to Compton-street—the deceased boy had the hooping cough as well as the others—they caught it of a lodger in the house—while he was ill a lady in Montague-place used to send him boiled rice every day or every other day—I saw the deceased boy about three weeks before the prisoner was taken up—he came to bring home a pair of lasts that he had borrowed of a person named Woodifeld—that was the last time I saw him—he was always a delicate looking boy—I could not see anything frightfully worse about him then than there was when he lived in the Colonnade—he did not complain of want of food—they all had bad heads in the summer—Dr. Piddock said it was from poorness of blood—the boy was ricketty and weakly—I have repeatedly told the prisoner that he was in a consumption—I have had three cousins die of consumption, and he brought up congealed pieces the same as they did.
Cross-examined. Q. What condition did the children appear to you to be in? A. Pale and delicate—they were always thin—the girl was a stout, fine girl, and so was the little boy, when they left our house—I have seen her since she has been in the workhouse, and she looks worse now than she did when she left our place—I have never seen the deceased boy pick up things in the street—I have heard of it—I never heard any sounds of crying or beating, I lived down stairs at the bottom of the house—I have seen the prisoner fetch the children up stairs—I never saw him ill treat them—I saw him beat Emma once with a leather strap that he worked with—I never saw the boy beaten—I believe the boy was not beaten so much as the girl, because the boy was a good boy—the girl was a bad girl—the prisoner was not hooted away from the house—there was no mob there—I have never said that I should like to see him taken up for his cruelty to his children—I never said so to a Mrs. Parsons, nor anything of the sort—I said if he had beaten his daughter Emma, and she did not deserve it, he justly deserved the month that he was committed for—that was what I said—he had a month for an assault upon his daughter—I did not say so when he left the Colonnade—I never said so to Mr. Jones—the woman that lived with the prisoner, has slept with me for the last three nights, having no home to go to.
MRS. STANLEY. I live in the Colonnade, in the same house as the prisoner lived. I know the prisoner—I do not know any harm of him—I never saw him ill use the boy—I have seen the children at meals with them—they all sat down together, and had just the same as he had—they had a share of the same food that he had—he was very ill last winter.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you ever say to Mr. Jones that you were very glad he was taken for behaving so cruelly to his children? A. No, nor to anybody—I always said I believed he got as much food as he could for the children, but he was very ill last winter—he has not been ill this year that I know of—he was in work some part of the time.
NOT GUILTY .
( There was another indictment against the prisoner for killing and slaying Emma Elizabeth Weedon, and four others for neglecting to provide for his children, upon which, on the following morning, MR. METCALFE offered no evidence, and a verdict of Not Guilty was taken.)
First Session, 1855—56.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, November 29th, 1855.
PRESENT—Sir JAMES DUKE, Bart., Ald.; Mr. Ald. EAGLETON; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Russell Gurney, Esq., and the Sixth Jury.
PLEADED GUILTY. Aged 21.—Recommended to mercy .— Confined Six Months ,
MR. RYLAND conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BULLOCK . I am a painter, and live at Bethnal-green. I know the prisoner—I worked with him once—on the night of 5th Nov. I was in the Star and Garter beer shop, Parliament-street, Bethnal-green—there were some others there—I was playing at bagatelle—the prisoner was there, he was not sober—Todd was there a little while before me—he was as sober as I was—the prisoner was standing alongside, looking on—he had a pint of ale and a glass, he brushed the glass down with the tail of his coat—the publican came and said, "Who broke this glass? "—some one said that the prisoner did—he said he would not pay for it, the landlord was going to turn him out, and I got in between them, and prevented him turning him out—I was standing at the bar, talking to a friend, and Todd said to the prisoner, "You have got 4d. to pay for the glass"—he then walked out at one door, and came in at the other, and the prisoner stabbed him in the back—I saw the knife in his hand—he then went back towards the tap room door—I went to take the knife from him, and he stabbed me in the left shoulder—he stabbed either at me or the next to me, but I caught the stab on my left arm—I was taken to the hospital—the wound is healing, but is not quite healed.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. How long had you been at the public house? A. I was there about three hours—I think the prisoner was there all the time that I was, and Todd was there too—we had known each other for some months—we had often been in that public house—the prisoner was not quite sober—I did not see any one chaffing him, but Todd said he had to pay for the glass—I did not see any one put soot on the prisoner's face—I did not hear Todd say, "Now we will have a game with him, he is drunk"—I did not see any one go behind him, and rub some soot in his face, or see any one strike him—I saw the next morning that he had two black eyes—I could not strike him, my arm being so bad—some person might have done it, and I not seen them—his face was very dirty when he came to the hospital—I did not take notice that his mouth was cut—I had been a good friend with him before this—I do not know about his being good humoured—he never attempted to strike me, but he often would have got into a row, or a quarrel, if I had not got him away—the knife he had was a small one—at the time it struck my arm the prisoner was endeavouring to strike any one that came before him—I happened to be the first one to go to try to get it from him—I cannot tell whether he aimed it at me, or at some one else.
Q. Did it not appear to you that he was going to stab a navvy, and you raised your arm to prevent him? A. No—we went both up together—I could not swear whether he intended it for me, or the navvy—Fleming was present, and sat with other parties in front of the bar.
GEORGE TODD . I am a labourer, and live at Bethnal-green. I was in the Star and Garter on 5th Nov., about 12 o'clock; I saw the prisoner—he broke a glass, and the landlord stopped the money for it—I chaffed the prisoner about having to pay this 4d., and having done that, I went out at the side door, and came in at the front, and the prisoner stabbed me, and said, "You have cooked it"—I felt the blood running down my back, and said, "I am stabbed"—the prisoner went towards the tap room with the knife in his hand, and there was a lot got behind to take it from him.
Cross-examined. Q. You had been chaffing this man considerably about this glass? A. Not particularly—I said, "It is no use being cross, he has stopped the money"—I did not strike him—he was the worse for liquor—I suppose I got there between 6 and 7 o'clock, and this happened just before 12 o'clock—I did not put any soot in his eye—I do not know who did, but I saw his face had been blacked when he came to the hospital—he was the worse for drink—I did not say to one of the men there, "Now he is drunk we will have a game with him"—I did not hear any one say that—it might have been done without my knowing it.
JAMES PORCH (policeman, K 91). I was sent for to this beer shop about 10 minutes before 12 o'clock, and the prisoner was given into my custody—there was great confusion—the prisoner was lying down in a reclining posture in the passage, leading to the tap room—I raised him up, he was bleeding from the nose and mouth, and a swelling on the left eye—I saw Bullock bleeding from the left arm, and Todd was leaning and bleeding from his side—this knife was picked up by a female, and handed to me—she picked it up from the spot exactly against where the prisoner was lying—I showed it to the prisoner at the station, he said it was his.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not his face black? A. It was very dirty, his mouth was bleeding—I took them all to the hospital.
GEORGE WHITE . I am a surgeon, of the London Hospital. Early in the morning of 6th Nov., Bullock was brought to the hospital—he had an incised wound on the left arm, nearly three quarters of an inch long—it was over the large artery, but had not gone deep enough to penetrate it—it was a slight wound.
COURT to JAMES PORCH. Q. In what state was the prisoner? A. In a state of stupor, I could not get a word from him from the house to the hospital.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding . Aged 20.— Confined Nine Months.
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN TAME . I live at Twickenham, and am shepherd to Sir William Clay. I had the care of a number of sheep of his in a field near Hospital Green, in that parish—there was one particular sheep that I knew well—I saw it on 21st Oct.—I went the next morning to the field, and it was missing—some bits of skin and bits of fat were in the field, and some blood—I have since seen the head of that sheep—I have no doubt whatever of it.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. How many sheep had you in that field? A. Thirty—they were fat sheep—some of them were for my master's own use, and some for the butchers—there was no mark on this sheep—I had not one like it—this is it (looking at it)—this is the old face—I can swear to it—it was always tame—it was a favourite of mine—it did not always follow me.
WILLIAM BUTCHER (police sergeant, V 17). On 22nd Oct, from information, I went into the field where Sir William Clay's sheep had been kept—from thence I went to a plantation, where I found this skin and bead of the sheep, and the entrails were rolled up in the skin—on the 23rd I went to the prisoner Elms' premises, which are about a mile and a half from the prosecutor's, and on looking up stairs I saw a shelf, and on it a bundle—I took it down, and found in it part of a leg of mutton, uncooked—this is it—it has been salted—it was not cut as a butcher would cut it; and on the same shelf was a dish full of fat—to the best of my belief, it was mutton fat—I went to a cupboard, down stairs, and found a saucepan, with some fat in it, and a bone—I sent two constables after Elms, and he was brought to the house to me—I asked him if he had any mutton in the house—he said, "No"—I asked him if he had any fat—he said, "No"—I showed him the mutton and fat that I had found—I said, "How do you account for this? "—he said, "I know nothing about it; my wife bought it"—1 afterwards went to the house of Cox and Hayward—I went up stain, in company with a constable—after I came down, Cox came in, and I said to him, "Have you a candle in the house? "—he said, "No"—Roberts, whom I had left below, had been in the coal cellar, and I desired him to go there again—Cox said, "It is no use your going there"—Roberts went down, and found some mutton—when it was found. Cox said, "O my God! this is the room I occupy," pointing to a front room—on the 24th I took Cox's and Hayward's shoes to the field, and at a gap there I found some marks which corresponded with Elms' left shoe—I tried it by putting the shoe in the impression—I found one footstep there—on the morning of the 22nd there was a very heavy dew; and after I had found the akin and entrails, I could see where some person had been, along the side of the hedge, through this gap, on to the hospital bridge, and across some other fields, into a ploughed field—there were the footsteps of two persons in the ploughed field—I examined them with the shoes, and have no doubt they were Elms' or Hayward's—it was Elms' left shoe that corresponded with the mark in the gap—after Roberts had been in the cellar some time, he brought me up six pieces of mutton—he went down a second time, and brought up a hind quarter, and part of a neck—Roberts gave me this bone—I fitted it with a portion of the bone in the head—the hind quarter, which was left in the skin, fits it exactly—here is a part of the inner skin, which is left inside the skin.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. You are stationed in the district of Twickenham? A. Yes—Sir William Clay resides there—before I entered the police I was a pastry cook and baker—there are several kinds of soil in that neighbourhood—I have heard that Cox and Hayward were living in separate parts of the house—there was nothing found in the room which Cox said he occupied.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You went to Elms', and found a bundle? A. Yes—I went to the bottom of the stairs, and saw a bundle on a shelf, wrapped in a cloth—Elms was at work—I sent for him—his wife came in afterwards—she was there when he said his wife had bought it, and she said she bought it at Kingston—I did not take the fat away for the
purpose of its being analyzed—to the best of my belief, it was mutton fat—I would not swear it—it was on 25th Oct. I compared the shoes with the marks—there had not been some heavy rain on the Monday night—there was no rain in the neighbourhood of Twickenham—there was a heavy dew—I compared Elms' left shoe by placing it in the mark in the gap—I did not place it by the side, and make another mark—there is not a worn track leading from that gap—there were two fields, and that is where there was a gate—the ground is trodden down, and I believe there are posts on each side of the gap—when I went to the house, I was not aware which portion was occupied by Cox, and which by Hayward—I did not find anything in the part of the house occupied by Hayward—all that was found was found in the cellar.
COURT. Q. You did not make a separate mark by the side of the footstep in the gap, but did you in the ploughed field? A. Yes; we put it in the mark, and then made another mark by the side—I have been fifteen years in the police—we put the boots in some, and we compared them—the marks corresponded with those in which we put the boots, and with those we did not—I cannot say whose boot corresponded with them, whether it was Elms' or Hayward's—I took Elms' boot off his left foot—I took both of Hayward's boots—the feet of the two men were not alike.
JESSE ROBERTS (policeman, V 96). On Tuesday, 23rd Oct., I went with sergeant Butcher to the house of Elms—I was with him when the piece of mutton was found—I went to apprehend Elms, he was at work—I told him I wished him to accompany me back—he wanted to know what for—I said, "Will you accompany me; if not I must take you into custody? "—he went back with me and Barker—when we got back to the house, Butcher said to him in my presence, "Have you any mutton in the house? "—he said, "No"—Butcher said, "Are you sure? "—he said, "Not that I am aware of"—Butcher then took the mutton from the shelf over the stairs, which was rolled up in a woman's night gown, and said, "How do you account for this? "—he said, "I know my wife bought it in Kingston market"—I went afterwards to Cox and Hay ward's—I went into the coal hole, and under the bottom step of the stairs I found six pieces of mutton rolled up in an old apron and an old child's frock—when I brought them up, Cox said, "O, my God! "—I never knew Cox before—after I brought these pieces of mutton out, I returned to the coal hole, and at the further end I pulled up the bricks and found a smock frock, and in it a leg and a neck of mutton, which have been produced—I went on the Thursday morning with sergeant Butcher through the gap to the ploughed field—I saw the footmark in the gap—I observed the bottom of the shoe which we had, and compared it with the mark in the gap—it corresponded exactly, on looking at the mark, and then at the shoe before it was fitted to the mark—in my opinion the mark appeared to have been made by this shoe—I have not the least doubt on the subject—when we fitted the shoe into the mark, it was put in as nightly as it could be—it corresponded in length and breadth, and every thing else, and with the single row of nails, and the double row—before it was put in the mark I had noticed the mark of the single row of nails, and the double one—these others are the shoes belonging to Hayward—I found thirty or forty marks in the ploughed field corresponding with these shoes—before I put them into the marks at all they appeared to correspond, and when I put them to any of the marks I did it in the same way, gently—here is an iron tip to this heel—I am able to say that the marks corresponded.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. How far is the ploughed field from
the plantation? A. About a mile in the direction of the prisoners' dwellings—the gap in the hedge is about 200 yards from the plantation—there is not a track or footpath leading from the gap—there is no grass—the cattle had trodden it—there is no foot way—it extends two or three yards from the hedge—no rain whatever fell between the 21st and the 25th—it was what we call dry, there was no rain at all to my knowledge—when we went to the houses of Cox and Hayward, Hayward was not within, I do not know where he was—I was a shepherd before I was admitted into the police.
BENJAMIN BARKER (policeman, V 262). I apprehended Hayward—I asked him if he was aware that there was a quantity of mutton in his house, which they could not give a satisfactory account of—he said afterwards that he buried it in the cellar, for he heard that the police were coming to search his house—he said he bought it of a man in the road, near the Wellington public house, and he believed the man came from Watton, but he did not know his name.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. When you took Hayward, what did you first say to him? A. I said, "Well, Samuel you are my prisoner, are you aware what you are charged with?"—he said, "Yes,"—I then told him he was charged with having a quantity of mutton, and not giving a satisfactory account of it, and asked him if he knew anything of it—he said, "No," he did not, and that he buried it in the cellar, for he beard the police were coming to search his house.
Q. But what led him to say that? A. I said he must know that mutton was in his house, and he must know how it came there—I did not use any threats—he immediately told me what I have just said, without any hesitation—I cannot say whether anything else passed—I was a little bit agitated at the time—I asked him who did bring it there, he said he did not know—I said he must be aware that the property was in his house, and it was not likely any one would bring it there but himself—I asked him where he had been to on the Monday and Tuesday—he said he had been nowhere but to Kingston—he did not give himself up to me, I met him in the road in the parish of Twickenham.
JOHN MAY . I am bailiff to Sir William Clay. Before that I was a butcher—I have no doubt that this is the skin of the animal to which this head belonged—I went, and saw the footstep in the gap—I observed it before they put the shoe into it—I knelt down and examined it very particularly before the shoe was placed in it.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Is there not a footpath there? A. No, there is not—there are not posts there that I know of—there is a passage for cattle to go through—there were no tracks of men's feet that I saw, but this one particular footstep.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Do you know Cox? A. Yes—I know nothing against him, and I have no hesitation in saying I have inquired, and heard nothing against him. COX— NOT GUILTY .
EDWARD COX (the prisoner). I am a labourer. I live in the same house that is occupied by Hayward—he married my daughter, and he and my daughter live in the house—I did not know of any mutton or mutton bones being in the cellar—they should not have been there if I had known it. ELMS— GUILTY . Aged 33
HAYWARD— GUILTY . Aged 28.— Confined Twelve Months .
(Elms was further charged with having been before convicted.)
1844, he had three separate indictments against him here—he was convicted on the first, and had six months—this is the certificate—(read—Central Criminal Court— Richard Bingham, Convicted, April, 1844, of stealing four fowls—Confined six months)—the prisoner is the man—I have known him for years.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY Q. Have you seen him since? A. Yes, three or four times a week.
COURT. Q. Has he been earning his living honestly since? A. I believe he has, as far as I know—I have seen him sometimes in work, and sometimes he was out.
ELMS—GUILTY.— Confined Twelve Months .
MR. PARRY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM TURNER (City policeman, 449). On 6th Nov. I went to Sun-court about 5 o'clock, and saw the prisoner Ward—I said to him, "Do you work for Mr. Brass?"—he said, "Yes, I have worked a few days, but I have not been there since dinner time "—I said, "You must come with me about some lead "—he said, "I suppose there is something up, I must go with you "—I took him to the station, and charged him with stealing the lead—I went to the basement of the warehouse that Mr. Brass is building; and found the lead concealed in some sand—there was 69lbs. weight of it—I compared it with the lead in the gutter of the adjoining house—it corresponded exactly—the house belongs to the trustees of the parish of Queenhithe.
Ward. Q. Where was I when you took me? A. At the corner of a court—you went up the court when you saw me—Jennings pointed you out.
RICHARD JENNINGS . I am a porter, and live in Huggin-lane, Upper Thames-street. At a quarter past 4 o'clock on 6th Nov. I heard a coping stone fall—I looked up. and saw Ward going along the gutter with a piece of lead in his hand—I am quite sure it was him—I saw him about ten minutes afterwards, coming out of the gateway of the warehouse, wiping the sweat off him—I had seen Reddington come out of the same gateway—Ward went across to the public house.
Ward. Q. Why did you not give me into custody? A. I do not know why—I pointed you out to the officer.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Did Reddington come out before Ward? A. Yes, about a couple of minutes—that was about ten minutes after the time that I saw the stone fall.
JOHN LOCKWOOD . I am a joiner, in the employ of Messrs. Brass. Ward was in their employ—he had no right to go on the roof of the adjoining house—he was there between 1 and 2 o'clock—I do not know how long he staid—I left about 2 o'clock—I booked him as being there that day—he ought not to have left without my authority—the next morning Reddington told me that Ward was not there that afternoon—I told him I believed he was, and I had booked him as being there.
Cross-examined. Q. How many men were at work? A. Seven—Ward was not superintending them—there was no one to superintend them in my absence—if any man was absent it was Reddington's duty to tell me of it.
Ward. Q. Were you there at 1 o'clock? A. I was there between 1 and 2 o'clock, and saw you there.
father in Silver-street—the prisoners were in our service. On 6th Nov. I was on the premises, at the corner of Bread-street-hill, Upper Thames-street—I saw some labourers who did not appear to be doing their work—I went round to the foundation, and saw Reddington running up stairs at a much more rapid pace than I ever saw him before—I called him, he did not answer—he ran up to the roof—I did not see him on the roof—he must have heard me call him—I remember about a coping stone failing—I afterwards spoke to Reddington—I asked him what he went up to the roof of the house for—he said to look for Ward—I said, "What business had you to go up stairs? here was your business, down here"—my men had no right to take lead from the adjoining houses.
Ward. Q. You must have seen me if I had been there, and you did net see me? A. No.
Cross-examined. Q. You saw Reddington go up stairs in the house in which your men were at work? A. Yes—it was from the roof of the adjoining house the lead was taken—he could get on the roof of the adjoining house without difficulty, when he got on the roof of the building he was in—I do not think Reddington is deaf—he has worked for us for some years.
HENRY MATTHEWS . I am a surveyor—I know the house in question—it belongs to Robert Philip Jones, and others—they are the trustees of that house—I find about 691bs. weight of lead has been removed from it—I have no doubt that this is the lead that was removed from it—I saw where it had been removed from—there is no doubt that taking away the lead would tend to remove the stone—a man being alarmed would raise himself up, and touch the coping stone, and it would fall.
REDDINGTON— NOT GUILTY .
(William Reddington was then put into the witness box, and examined by the prisoner Ward.)
Ward. Q. Do not you know I was not there that afternoon? A. I had not seen you after dinner—I went to look after you; that made me run up stairs—Mr. Brass says he hallooed after me, but I did not hear him—I am deaf with my right ear.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. You ran up to the roof of the empty house, what business had you there? A. I went up to look for the man—I know nothing about who took the lead—I never saw it till the next night—I had not seen Ward that afternoon—I was not in a public house drinking with him.
WARD— GUILTY . Aged 38.— Confined Four Months .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 29th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. CUBITT.
Before Mr. Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY .** Aged 20.— Confined Twelve Months .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 32.— Six Years Penal Servitude .
Half Foreign Jury.
49. WILLIAM SULTENFUSS , stealing 1 casket, 1 watch, 1 chain, 1 ring, 1 pencil case, 1 card case, and 1 purse, value 25l.; 1 20l. bank note, 4 5l. notes, and 8 sovereigns, the property of William Rashleigh; and 2 candlesticks, value 2l., the goods of James Moorhouse, in his dwelling house.
MR. BALLANTINE conducted the Prosecution.
(The prisoner being a foreigner, the evidence was translated to him by an interpreter.)
The HONOURABLE CATHERINE RASHLEIGH. I am the wife of Mr. William Rashleigh, of Minna Billy, Cornwall. On 20th Sept. I went to the London Hotel, Albemarle-street, and on 25th Sept. I missed a casket from the drawing room table, containing a purse, one 20l., and four 5l. bank notes, which I had received from a gentleman named Sempill, and about seven sovereigns also, I also missed a gold watch, and silver card case, and a pencil case, worth, altogether, about 30l., exclusive of the money—my husband arrived in town on the 26th.
JANE MOORHOUSE . My husband keeps the London Hotel, Albemarle-street. On 25th Sept., in the afternoon, I saw the prisoner coming down the principal staircase of the hotel, leading from the drawing room—I have not the slightest doubt of his being the man—he had a coat or cloak over his arm, and something large under his left arm—in the evening I missed a couple of plated candlesticks from Mrs. Rashleigh's room—I had never seen him before, but am certain he is the man—I saw him next, on 10th Oct., in Vine-street station.
RICHARD HILL . I am a waiter at the London Hotel—I remember Mrs. Rashleigh occupying the drawing room apartments—I saw the casket on the table on the 25th, when I cleared the breakfast away in the morning.
GIDEON CROKER (policeman.) On 25th Sept. I received information of this robbery—and on 10th Oct. went to the prisoner's lodging, at No. 3, Buckle-street, Whitechapel, and found him there—I told him I wanted to speak to him, and went with him into his room—he spoke English, and gave me into the custody of another policeman on a charge of forcing my way into his room—I had not broken in—I rang the bell, and he came to the door, and I said that I wished to speak to him privately—he said that he did not wish to have any correspondence with a man named Fulkin, who was with me, and whose name is on the back of one of the notes—when he gave me in charge, the other constable and I well understood each other—I said, "Let him come on to the station," for I thought that if there was a row all the property would probably be removed—I found on the prisoner 7l. 5s. 6d., and these three duplicates (produced) one of which relates to candlesticks, one to a gold watch, chain, and locket, and the third to a dial—I then went to his lodgings and brought away two large boxes, a carpet bag, a dressing case, sixteen coats, and a musical box—in the large box I found Mrs. Rashleigh's casket.
JOSEPH CANEY . I am clerk to George Henry Ives, a jeweller, of No. 8, Cornhill. About the latter end of Sept. the prisoner came there and bought this gold keeper (produced) which he paid for with a 20l. note—Mr. Ives endorsed it, and I know it by that—I paid it into the Bank of England.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I buy two rings? A. You bought one and stole another, which I had to repair, and which I had sold previously for 26s.—you paid about 14s. 6d. for this keeper.
ALFRED DAY . I am shopman to Mr. Cresswell, a pawnbroker—I produce two candlesticks, pawned on 9th Oct. for 5s.—this is the duplicate (produced)—it is the counterpart of one of those produced—I have no recollection of the person who came.
Prisoner's Defence. I received 145l. from my brother, in the army, on 22nd or 23rd Sept.; I know a man named Barnadine, who lives at No. 6, Montague-street; on Wednesday or Thursday I went with him to Finsburysquare, to a man named Severs, to buy some stamps to make some buttons; I was in apprenticeship with him; on the way I met a man, who said, "Do you have still your money? this man can change your money, because he it going to Germany;" I said, "Very well, if you can change it, I need not go anywhere else; you can come to my house, you know where I live;" he came the same evening, and brought this casket; he said, "I can change your money, how much have you?" I told him the amount; he said, "I have 25l. in notes;" I told him that I had not so much; he said, "You can give me the amount in sovereigns another time;" he said, that not living at harmony with his wife, he was about to leave her, and begged me to keep this casket for him, and I did so; a few days afterwards he came again, and brought me the ticket of the candlesticks to keep for him until he went away, because he had no box which would lock, and did not like his wife to know it; that is all I know about it; I can prove by witnesses that I had this money.
The prisoner called
GUILTY .* Aged 29.— Four Years Penal Servitude .
(There were four other indictments against the prisoner.)
50. EDWARD CAIN and JANE CAIN , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Matilda Griffin, at St. Martin in the Fields, and stealing therein 2 lbs. weight of cigars, value 14s., her goods.
MR. MEW conducted the Prosecution.
MATILDA GRIFFIN . I am single, and keep the Artichoke public house, White Hart-street, Drury-lane. On Monday night, 29th Oct., I went to bed about 12 o'clock—I was the last person up, every thing was then safe, and the doors and windows shut—about 5 o'clock in the morning I was awoke by a noise of glass breaking—I got up and opened the bed room door, to which there is a bell attached, which rings in the bar parlour—I cannot say whether it rang on that occasion, but I suppose it did—I called the servant, but did not succeed in awaking her, so I looked at my watch and went to bed again—at 7 o'clock the barmaid, Elizabeth Barber, went down,
and immediately came up and called me—I had called her about a quarter of an hour before that, and desired her to go down—I went down, and found the bar in the greatest confusion; cigars lay all over the floor, the back door was wide open, and the bar down—I ran into the bar, and found the spirit bottles on the floor partly empty, and table spoons and cigars strewed all over the place—a square of glass was broken in a sort of glass cupboard, which contained the cigars—a bottle of rue gin had been carried out into the back yard, but it was full—a panel was broken out of the outer door, the till was on the floor empty, and I missed from it about 3s., which was there the night before—some cigars were also gone—about 2 o'clock I was sent for to a chandler's shop, a few doors off, by the man who keeps it, named Rolf, and was shown these cigars (produced), lying on the counter—the female prisoner was there—I believe these pale cigars to be mine, but can swear to them, but not to these others—I know these by their being a very light dry leaf, and by their being broken about.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. How long have you had these cigars? A. About two years—I do not know that the person who made them will not venture to swear that they are mine—I have kept the house about six years—mine is rather a queer neighbourhood, I believe—I do not know the characters of the persons who come to my house—I can venture to swear to these cigars by the outer leaf being of a very pale colour, and unlike the usual leaf—the person is here from whom I had them.
COURT. Q. Had you been in the habit of serving customers from that bundle? A. I only had about 12 lbs. of them, but they lasted a long time, being rather an unsaleable article—they were kept in the glass case, and I was in the habit of going there for cigars—they were safe at 12 o'clock.
JOSEPH TYLCOAT . I live at No. 14, White Hart-street, next door to Miss Griffin. On 31st Oct., about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, the female prisoner came into my shop with some cigars, and wished to know whether I would purchase them—I said that I did not want anything of the kind—it struck me that they were stolen, and I followed her to a chandler's shop at the corner—she was then offering the cigars for sale for 1s. 6d.—there was about two dozen and a half lying on the counter—I believe these produced to be them—I said nothing to her, but sent to Miss Griffin, who came, and said that they were hers—I asked the female prisoner where she got them from—she said that she had got them from her brother to sell, and that she had sold several at other places, Princes-street was one place—she said that her brother bought them of some man in a court, I did not understand where, but that he was going to buy a coat in Petticoat-lane at the time—she was given into custody.
Cross-examined Q. Are you a tailor? A. Yes—I have no employer—a person named Rolf keeps the chandler's shop—I have not seen him here—he was not before the Magistrate, it was his sister who was present at the time—I went for the prosecutrix, and when I came back the prisoner was in the shop, and the cigars on the counter—the sister of the person who keeps the shop was behind the counter, and I was in front of the counter—the person in the shop said that she would not buy them because her brother was out—I went into the shop and bought some snuff—she said to me, "Will you buy them?"—I said, "No, they were offered to me before"—I had seen the female prisoner go into half a dozen shops—she went from one to the other to sell them, as if she went with matches.
White Hart-street, for hawking some cigars, supposed to be stolen—she said that her brother gave them to her to sell, telling her that he had found them—I took her to the station, and asked her where her brother lived—she said at No. 21, Great Wild-street—I went there, and found the male prisoner with his mother—I told him that his sister was in custody for offering some cigars for sale, and had stated that he gave them to her to fell—he said, "That it is all right, I can very easily account for them; I can tell you where I bought them," but he did not—this was on Wednesday—as he was going to the station, he said that he was going to Rosemary-lane on Monday or Tuesday, to buy a coat, and met a man who asked him if he wanted to buy any cigars or tobacco; that he said, "Let me have a look at them," and went up a court with the man, and gave him 2st. for the cigars—his father stated that he was at home on the night when the robbery was committed, sleeping with his brother, at No. 21, Great Wild-street—the inspector had told him the night the robbery was committed—that was after he made the statement about going to buy a coat—he said that he went to bed about 10 o'clock—that was on Monday night, the 29th, or on Tuesday—I think he said Monday.
Cross-examined Q. Are you positive about his saying 2s., may he not have said "A few shillings?"A. I am quite sure he said 2s.
JOSEPH WARD . I am a grocer, of No. 22, Princes-street, Drury-lane. I know the female prisoner by sight—she comes to my shop occasionally—she came on Tuesday, 30th Oct., and offered to sell me some cigars—I should say that these are the same—I asked her where she got them—she said that her brother was a sailor, and brought them from sea—I asked her if she had any more of them—she said "Yes;" there were some more of them at home in a box—I gave her 2s. for them—she after-wards brought me about 1lb. more, as neat at I can guess; and I gave her 6s. 6d. for them, which made 8s. 6d. for the whole lot—when I offered her 6s. 6d. she would not take it, and went away, and came back again and took it—the policeman fetched the cigars from my house, and I gave them to the inspector.
HENRY BLOWER . I am a cigar manufacturer, of St. John-street-road. About two years ago I sold 5lbs. of cigars to Miss Griffin, of the Artichoke. I believe these produced to be the same—they are very much spotted, and there was a mixture of two or three different kinds; as there also is in the lady's stock.
Cross-examined. Q. You would not swear positively that they are the same? A. No; but I believe they are—I have a large sale of them, and have sold many in the last two years.
COURT. Q. What were they per pound? A. I do not know whether they were 10s. 6d. or 11s.—I do not make them all with my own hands—I employ journeymen—I cannot undertake to swear to a particular cigar—these spots are natural—they are not produced by artificial means.
HENRY BROWN . I am a carpenter, of No. 23, Princes-street, Drury-lane. On Tuesday, 30th Oct., I bought some cigars of the female prisoner—she said that her brother was a sailor, and had brought them home—she had got a dozen and I gave her 1s. for them.
Edward Cain. I am not a sailor, but I told her to say so, that she might get a better price.
(William Moron being called did not appear.)
GEORGE GODDEN re-examined. The father of William Moran has moved away from where he lived, and I cannot find out where to—he represented himself as a potboy at a public-house—not at Miss Griffin's—I do not know where.
(The prisoners statements before the Magistrate were here read as follows:—Edward Cain says, "She is quite innocent of anything. I told her to say what she did. I bought the cigars." Jane Cain says, "I was not aware that anything was taken, or I should not have sold them there.")
NOT GUILTY .
(MR. BODKIN,for the prosecution, stated that as one indictment had been removed to the Queens Bench, and tried there yesterday, no evidence would be offered in this case.)
NOT GUILTY .
JAMES RITCHIE . I am a draper, of No. 187, Oxford-street. I have a partner—on Wednesday evening, 7th Nov., we had a gray cloth cloak hanging inside the lobby of the door on a brass wire frame—I went out of the shop about a quarter to 8 o'clock, and saw the two prisoners crouched down talking together under the window close to the cloak—the younger prisoner was touching it, and the elder was covering her—I went back into the shop, and immediately afterwards my attention was attracted by the rattling of the wire frame against the inside of the window—I went to the door, and as I was going down the shop I saw the elder prisoner pass rapidly away—I missed the cloak, and saw the younger prisoner standing close to the door—she said, "There goes the woman that has taken your cloak"—I looked in the direction she pointed but could not see her—I said to the young one, "I know you are with her;" and took her into custody—she said that there was nobody with her—she was crying—the cloak is worth about 25s.—the window is about a foot and a quarter from the ground—I only just saw them for a moment, and then went back into the shop—I did not know Walker before—I saw her next at Marl borough-street on the Monday week following ten days afterwards—this was on Wednesday—she was then pointed out to me as the person.
Scales. I was remanded for a week, and was then discharged. Witness. She was discharged because we could not take the other prisoner. I went to the address the child gave, No. 18, Clement's-lane, Strand, and found them all living in one room, but we had not gone there during the week that the child was in custody—when we had got the woman we took the child again at another place, over in Lambeth—she was taken before Mr. Hardwicke the first time, and the second time before Mr. Bingham, and without further evidence was committed.
JAMES RITCHIE re-examined. Scales was taken the second time by policeman, C 200. I was not with him, and did not go to the house where she was taken—I went to the house in Clement's-lane, but she was in custody then—I only know that she inhabited the same room as Walker from the person who kept the house, who is not here.
NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAM TAYLOR . My father keeps a draper's and haberdasher's shop. On Saturday, Nov. 17, I was having my tea, and was called into the shop, and missed some calico from the rail inside the door way—I went down the street, but saw nothing—there were three or four customers is the shop, and one or two persons behind the counter, and a little girl, Mary Ann Campbell, a customer—two of my assistants are my sisters, they are not here—I went round the corner of the next house almost directly, and saw the prisoners—the little girl pointed them out to me, and I followed them down the street—they crossed the road into Dudley-street—I saw constable, C 200, and gave them into his charge—they were taken to Bow-street—I saw them searched, and some bad money found on them—Johnson was committed from Bow-street, for having the base coin, and has been tried here, and I was ordered to attend—I was at Marlborough-street as well—I was not bound over—I was ordered to go before the Grand Jury by the constable, and by the inspector, who had charge of the base coin—I was ordered by the police to come here, and by the Magistrate, he said, "You will attend."
MARY ANN CAMPBELL . I was outside Mr. Taylor's shop, about a little after 5 o'clock—I saw a woman and a girl looking at some prints just inside the shop door—they were both standing, and a man, Taylor, was stooping down in front of them; I saw him take a roll of calico off an iron rail, and walk away with it in his hand, and they followed him—when they got to the corner of the court, I went into the shop and got some cotton which I was going for, and gave information—I came out again, and was going across the road, and saw the prisoners both walking past the shop—they turned round the corner, Mr. Taylor's servant was standing by, and I told him that they were the people who took the calico—I am sure they are the same persons—I saw their faces by the gas light in the shop window.
Johnson. Q. What are you? A. I go out to place—I know the nature of an oath, I am going on for fourteen years old—an oath is, that I am not to tell a lie to anything when I have kissed this book—I know you by your features, I looked at you rather particularly—I did not call, "Stop thief!" but went into the shop—there was not quite ten minutes from the time the calico was missed to your being in custody—I am certain you are the man.
ROBERT HINDS (policeman, C 200). The prisoners were given into my custody at Dudley-street, by Taylor—they were about twenty yards ahead of me when he pointed them out, and I ran after them directly—they were walking together—just before I took them, I heard Johnson say, "You do not know me," or, "You must not know me"—I told Johnson I wanted him for a case of felony—he said, "I suppose that is stealing"—Walker then ran away some distance—I gave Johnson into the prosecutors charge, and followed her, and took her without losing sight of her—I told her I wanted her for stealing some calico—she said that she knew nothing of Johnson, but had just asked him to treat her with some gin—I had never asked her whether she knew him—I took them to Bow-street, and found on Johnson four half crowns and three shillings all counterfeit, a pair of scissors, a screw driver, and a knife—they were brought up at Bow-street, but this case was not gone into there, or at Marlborough-street—it was never gone into before a Magistrate—Mr. Bingham sent it here—he said that I was to appear here, and they should both be tried together—I was bound
over in the false coin case—he said that there was no occasion for me to be bound over in this case.
Johnson's Defence. I was coming up St. Martin's-lane, and met this woman; I was rather the worse for liquor; she asked me to stand a drop of gin; we walked along, and the policeman came up, touched me on the shoulder, and took me to the station; I have heard that the doorway is quite dark, and as to identity, there are many remarkable cases on record, one of which appears in the papers of to-day; I know nothing of the calico; if I stole it where is it? I have never had it.
Walker's Defence. I know nothing of the calico.
WALKER— GUILTY . Aged 20.— Confined Four Months.
JOHNSON— GUILTY . Policeman, 214, stated, that a ticket of leave was found at his lodgings. Aged 26.— Confined Twelve Months from the expiration of his former sentence.
54. WILLIAM HENRY SAVAGE , stealing 54l. 9s. in money, of Richard Harrison, his master: also, stealing 1 locket, value 6s. 6d.; the goods of his said master: also, embezzling 1l. 0s. 4d. of his said master: upon all which
MR. PARRY for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
BARNARD FREIDMAN (through an interpreter). I am a glazier, and live at Castle-place, Castle-street, Whitechapel. On 11th Nov. I was going from the Exchange to Houndsditch; I had a watch in my pocket, attached to a chain—I was with a friend, who said, "Where is your watch? "—I looked at my pocket and saw my chain hanging, and the prisoner with my watch in his hand—I caught him by the cuff of his coat, and called, "Police!"—he immediately dropped the watch—I held him with one hand, and stooped and picked up the watch, and delivered it to the policeman.
WILLIAM SMITH (City policeman, 656). On the afternoon of 11th Nov., I was on duty in the Clothes exchange, Houndsditch, and saw Mr. Berger take hold of the prisoner by the sleeve, and this watch dropped from his arm—I stooped, and the prosecutor picked it up at the same time, and gave it into my hand—this is it (produced), the ring has been twisted—I secured the prisoner.
(The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted.)
WILLIAM SMITH re-examined. I produce a certificate—(read: Central Criminal Court; John Collins, Convicted on his own confession, January 1854, of stealing a handkerchief from the person, having been before convicted. Confined Eighteen Months)—I had him in custody, and know him, as he was very ill, and I had to come here four Sessions running.
GUILTY. Aged 23.— Four Years Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 32.— Confined Three Months . (There was another indictment against the prisoner.)
OLD COURT.—Friday, November 30th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Justice ERLE; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; Mr. Ald, EAGLETON; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Mr. Justice Erle and the Third Jury.
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES RATCLIFF (policeman, N 498). About 1 o'clock in the morning of 21st Nov. I was on duty near the tunnel of the Regent's Canal, in the neighbourhood of the Caledonian-road—I heard the cries of a woman in the water—I heard the words "Oh, dear!" several times—I immediately ran to the place from whence the noise proceeded, and turned my light on the water—the cries were still continuing—I could not see any object in the water—in a moment or two Pettit, another officer, came up—I went and roused the men at the house, and asked them whether there was not a skiff or some kind of boat—I returned to where Pettit was, in a few minutes—I saw a boat coming along with the two prisoners in it—I ran, and met them some fifty or sixty yards from the mouth of the tunnel, and called out to them that there was a woman drowning in the tunnel, and to save her if they could, and Pettit told them something after the same manner, when they got to where he was—they then went into the tunnel, and Pettit called out to know whether they had got her, and they said, "Yes"—I then went and met them at the other end of the tunnel—I then saw the body of a woman—she was being towed behind the boat some two or three yards—the rope was tied to the stern of the boat—both the prisoners were in the boat—constable N 478, and another man, assisted to pull her out—I saw her pulled out—the rope was round underneath her arms, with a slip noose—her arms were crossed, and the rope was enclosed in her left hand—her fingers were round the rope—it was about 5 minutes past 1 o'clock when the prisoners' boat went into the tunnel, and about 20 minutes to 2 o'clock when it came out at the other end—the tunnel is about three quarters of a mile long—the cries of the woman had ceased when the boat entered the tunnel.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. About how long had the cries ceased before the boat entered the tunnel? A. They could not have ceased above a minute—the prisoners were about fifty yards off when the cries ceased—a horse was drawing the boat—it is the custom when boats are coming to the tunnel to push on the horse quickly, and then let it go in a moment, in order to give the boat an impetus on getting into the tunnel—the men then push the boat on through the tunnel by means their feet—they lie on their backs, and push themselves along by pressing, their feet against the wall of the tunnel—they had not entered the tunnel half a minute when Pettit asked if they had got her—he also asked if she was dead, and they said, "Yes"—the boat they had is one of those that go backwards and forwards on the Regent's Canal—there is barely room enough for the men to walk round the boat, it is only a little edging—the deceased was a very heavy woman—I got a boat hook, and that was given to the prisoners as they went into the tunnel—I got that before I saw their boat coming—I did not know the prisoners before—I took them into
custody that morning—I saw the skirt of a woman's gown lying on the footpath close to the mouth of the tunnel, as if it had been taken off, and left there.
SAMUEL PETTIT (policeman, N 103). I heard Ratcliff calling for assistance, and went to the spot—I turned my light into the tunnel—I did not see the woman—I could see some white clothing on the top of the water very plainly—she was crying out, "Oh, dear! oh, dear!" and went down, and came up again—about a minute and a half afterwards I saw the boat in which the prisoners were, coming towards the tunnel—I spoke to the prisoners, and told them there was some one drowning in the water, and the body had gone down about fifteen or sixteen yards from the mouth of the tunnel—the boat went into the tunnel, and I called to them directly afterwards, "Have you got her?"—they answered, "Aye, I have got her"—the boat at that time might have been from eighteen to twenty yards in the tunnel—as near as I can tell, from the time I saw the white clothing going down into the water till they told me they had got her, was about a minute—I did not go to the other end of the tunnel—I returned to my beat.
Cross-examined Q. I believe you asked them whether she was dead? A. I did—they said, "She is dead."
COURT. Q. Was it dark in the tunnel? A. Yes, quite—after the boat passed in I could not see—the prisoners were entirely in the dark.
MR. COOPER. Q. I believe the tide runs rather strong there, does it not? A. I do not suppose there is much strength in the tide—there is a little drift for the boats, but very little.
WILLIAM CANT (policeman, N 478). I was at the other end of the tunnel when the boat emerged from it—the woman was floating in the water, tied with a rope round underneath her arms to the stern of the boat—when the boatmen gave me the rope to pull her ashore, the rope was in her left hand—I called Ratcliff's attention to it—I am quite clear that the rope was actually in her hand—it was distinctly in between her fingers, as if she was holding it—the prisoners were asked at the station why they did not take her into the boat—they said she was dead, and they thought they had better drag her through, and give her up to the policemen when they got to the other end.
Cross-examined Q. How deep was the woman in the water? A. She was about six inches under water—her head was under water—that was when the boat was standing still.
—BRADFORD. I am a surgeon and physician, of No. 4, Yorkplace, Islingtongreen. Between 2 and 3 o'clock in the morning in ques-tion I was called to the station to see the body of a woman—life was completely extinct at that time—there was slight remaining warmth over the region of the heart, but that is no proof of existing vitality—in my judgment, she had been dead about half or three quarters of an hour—her death was caused by drowning—if she had been taken out of the water at this end of the tunnel, and proper means applied, I have little doubt but that she would have recovered—it is very rare indeed that life is restored after five minutes' complete submersion, but there are two or three such cases on record—there is hope after five minutes, but very little—from the evidence, I have formed an opinion as to whether she was dead at the time the rope was put round her waist—I will not go so far as to say that she had her faculties when she caught hold of the rope—it was an instinctive effort—I cannot say it would be evidence of mind to form a purpose—
there is action from consciousness, in a reflex movement—there was an existing and absolute vitality at the time.
Cross-examined Q. Is not that rather hypothetical than otherwise? A. Not at all—there have been cases where persons have been brought up within a minute or two, and yet no power has been able to restore them—there the shock has done it—the shock did not kill this woman, because she was a long time in the water.
MR. JUSTICE ERLE expressed an opinion that this case hardly came within the rule of law which constituted the crime of manslaughter; in order to convict, the Jury must be satisfied that death was caused by an unlawful act on the part of the prisoners; no unlawful act of commission was alleged; but an unlawful act of omission, such as want of due care in driving, or gross neglect in the discharge of a duty, would render them responsible; he was, however, at a loss to see how those instances applied to such a case as the present; in his opinion, it was not a case in which to convict them of felony; and if the Jury concurred in that opinion, it would be unnecessary to call upon them for their defence. The JURY stated that they were quite of the same opinion, and found the prisoners
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH M'INTOSH . I am the prisoner's wife; he is a milliner; we lived together at No. 2, Tabernacle-row, St. Luke's. On Saturday evening, 3rd Nov., about 6 o'clock, I went to the house of Mrs. Quarrel, in Baldwin-street, accompanied by Mrs. Elsworth, a friend of mine—directly we went in, Mrs. Quarrel laid the cloth for us, to have some refreshment—she placed some knives on the table—we were about to sit down to take some refresh ment, when my husband came up stairs very quickly, and came into the room—I do not think he spoke—I said, "Oh, here is M'Intosh!"—he ran across the room to me, as I was sitting on the sofa, and struck me on the head, and stunned me—he only struck me with his hand—he had nothing in his hand—when I recovered my senses, I was lying on the floor, bleeding from my head—a medical man was sent for—I had two of my fingers cut rather badly—they are quite well now—I have no recollection how they became cut—my husband was very much intoxicated—the wounds are quite well now.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Are you quite sure that, at the time he struck you on the sofa, he had nothing in his hand? A. Yes—he brought no weapon into the house with him, and he came straight across the room—he had not time to pick up anything, he came so quickly—he has always been a good husband to me when sober, and when he is the worse for liquor he is more like a madman than anything else, but he is not generally a drunken man at all—he had cause for anger with me at this time—I had been staying out much longer than I ought to have done—I had neglected his home, and he was waiting for some money that I had received in the City—he was drunk and excited, and struck me—I do not believe he knew what he was about at the time—I desire to speak as favourably about it as I can.
MARY ANN ELSWORTH . I am the wife of John Elsworth, a boot binder, in Britannia-street, City-road. I accompanied Mrs. M'Intosh to Mrs. Quarrel's, about half past 6 o'clock, on 3rd Nov.—we went up to her room, on the first floor—after we had been there some time, the cloth was laid,
some knives were put on the table, and we were about to take some refreshment, when the prisoner came up the stairs, gave the door a push, and nearly stumbled into the room—he came very quickly—he rushed towards the couch where Mrs. M'lntosh was sitting, and gave her a violent blow on the head—he then took up a knife and struck me across the nose, and said, "You b—b—s, I will do for the pair of you"—I got to the door as fast as I could, and when I was coming out of the room I saw him in the act of going with a knife to his wife—he was very close to her—the blow he gave me with the knife cut my nose slightly, and gave me a black eye—I ran down stairs, very much frightened, and called for the police—I came back in about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, and found Mrs. M'Intosh bleeding from the forehead, and the doctor was there dressing her wounds—I distinctly saw a knife in the prisoner's hand—I saw him take it from the table.
Cross-examined Q. Was he drunk? A. I think he was—he had no knife when he struck his wife the first blow—I did not see him strike her with a knife at all—I only saw him going to her with the knife—I saw him take up the knife after striking her the first blow.
MARTHA QUARREL . Mrs. M'Intosh and Mrs. Elsworth came to my house on this evening—I had just put the table ready to give them some refreshment, and was leaving the room again, and met the prisoner coming up the stairs—he was not coming very quickly, I believe—when I returned to the room I found Mrs. M'Intosh lying on the floor, apparently insensible, and bleeding from the back of her head—I picked up a knife—there was one little spot of blood upon it.
CHARLES KING . I am a surgeon, of No. 3, Brunswick-place, City-road. I was called to Mrs. Quarrel's house, and found the prosecutrix sitting on the floor—she was wounded in the forehead and fingers, and also on the back of her head—the wound on the forehead was a stab wound—it went to the bone—it corresponded in size to the shape of this knife—(two knives were produced, both broken)—it was just the breadth of the blade—it was bleeding—it was not a dangerous wound—there were wounds on three of the fingers—they were incised wounds—they were severe, but not very severe—they were on the back of the fingers—these knives would produce such wounds—the wound at the back of the head was a swelling, nearly the size of an egg, and on the centre of that was a small wound—it might have been done by the fist, or contact with any hard substance.
Cross-examined Q. The wound on the forehead you say was to the bone; that would be about one-eighth of an inch, would it not? A. A quarter of an inch—there was no contusion round it—it was a clean wound—I do not think, if the blow had been violent, it would have produced a greater effect, considering the hard structure of the frontal bone—it was not fractured—a blow inflicted with all the force a man could use might fracture the skull—the wound was unquestionably inflicted with the knife in this state, not pointed—the knife is square and blunt, and it exactly corresponded with the size of the wound—I do not think the wound on the back of the head could have been inflicted with the knife fully pointed—the wound on the fingers could not have broken the knife—I think that wound must have been inflicted at the same time as the other—probably the hand was raised to protect the face, and it fell on the forehead—I think the point must have been broken first.
supper with—they were quite perfect then—I think these are two of the knives that I put out.
ELIZABETH M'INTOSH re-examined. I had no one in the room with me when my husband came in, only Mrs. Elsworth—there was a man on the stairs, merely asking a question, I believe, about a former lodger—he was a stranger—I believe he was going down stairs at the time my husband came up, or else he was on the landing—he was no acquaintance of mine.
GUILTY of unlawfully Wounding . Aged 31.— Confined Nine Months .
NEW COURT.—Friday, November 30th, 1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. EAGLETON and Mr. RECORDER.
Before Mr. Recorder and the Fifth Jury.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM QUINTON . I am a butcher and live in Leather-lane. I have dealings with Messrs. Larner and Greatrex, meat salesmen—on 11th Nov. the prisoner called on me and I paid him 6l. 17s. 11d. on their account—this the receipt; he signed it in my presence—I had had former dealings with him as the servant of Larner and Greatrex.
Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. You paid him with two country notes? A. Yes, and he gave me the change—he did not tell me he had lost some money—he went away and came back in about an hour and wanted to speak to me—he said he had lost a 10l. note some time ago, and he wanted to make the money up, and if any body spoke to me about this money, he asked me if I would say that I should pay it on the following week—I said, "No, but I, perhaps, shall not go that way till Saturday morning; if any one should ask me, of course I shall tell them yes"—this was on a Thursday—I went to the market on Saturday, and I inquired whether my bill was paid in—they said it was not—I did not ascertain that the two notes I gave the prisoner were paid in—I have known the prisoner many years in the service of Larner and Greatrex.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe, some time ago, he told you he had lost some money? A. Yes, about four or five months ago—that he bad lost 10l.—he came to me the night before to borrow 5l.—I said, "I can't do that, I have not enough to pay my own bills, and, moreover, there is money still back"—I told him I should pay 10l. off the bill to-morrow morning—but, before that, he asked me whether I would allow him to pay 7l. to Mr. Greatrex's clerk, and when he came in the morning, to allow him to have 10l.—that was, in fact, to lend him 3l.—I told him I would not, but I would pay him 10l., and he might do as he liked—I have known him a great many years, and never heard any thing against him before—I have lent him money—he now owes me about 2l. 10s., I believe—he borrowed that to make up his account.
years—he had authority to receive money, and was to account every Thursday for the money he received that day—he usually paid the money to the clerk—he has not paid me 6l. 17s. 11d., as received from Mr. Quinton, on 1st Nov., nor 10l. received from Mr. Bell—in consequence of a communication made to me by Mr. Quinton on Saturday morning, I spoke to the prisoner, and I put down on a bit of paper several sums of money—this is it—Bell, 3l., Mrs. Jones, 1l. 10s., Comfort, 2l. 11s. 9d., Quinton, 6l. 17s. 9d., altogether 13l. 19s. 8d.—he said he had received these amounts, and he had taken them to make up 10l. that he had lost—I told him I should give him in charge, and I mentioned to him that he had taken more than 10l., but he said he had taken one bill under another—I took him in the counting house, and asked the amounts he had received—he said if I would get a bit of paper, he would tell me the amounts he had received, and the clerk wrote them down from his mouth.
Cross-examined Q. I believe he has been twelve years in your service? A. Yes—it has never happened that he has not accounted the same day, but the day after—he would have a good many account to collect; sometimes more than others—he received the accounts once a week—the money he has brought home has reached 100l.—I do not know that he had arranged to borrow some money from a loan society—I was not at my counting house on the Friday night before this conversation took place—I know he was detained till 11 o'clock that night.
HENRY WILLS . I am clerk to Messrs. Larner and Greatrex. It was the prisoner's duty to pay money over to me—he did so on 1st Nov.—he produced this book to me at the time—it is his own private book, in which he keeps a copy of what he pays to me—he paid me the amount mentioned in this book—here is "George Bell, 7l.;" "Ford, 2l. 6s."—the total was 19l. 3s.—here are four other names entered here, but Quinton's name is not here, nor Comfort, nor Jones—I noticed that some leaves had been torn out of this book, but they might have been taken out to make memorandums.
Cross-examined Q. Do you see this book? A. I do not always take it in my hand, but I generally take it and run it up—I did so that day—here are my figures at the bottom—this book is never left in my possession—he takes it away with him—he never said anything to me about 10l. being lost.
COURT. Q. Did you ever hear of his having lost 10l. belonging to his master. A. No—he had never been deficient in his accounts before—he has never said that he had not got all he had received.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY. Aged 32.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined Four Months .
MR. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
LEOPOLD GILLING . I am a licensed victualler, and live at Wood Green, Tottenham. On Wednesday, 31st Oct., the prisoner was at my house—he had been there before on several occasions—I owed 1l. 12s. to the poor rate collector—it was a very wet day, and in the evening I said to my bar-man, "George, you must go to Edmonton, and take this money to Mr. Staines"—this was said in the prisoner's hearing, and the prisoner immediately replied," I will take it for you, I only live a few doors from him"—I said, "Very well, you will save my lad the trouble of getting wet"—the
prisoner immediately counted, "One, two, three, four, five, six;" and he said, "It is just six doors from me"—I gave him the money, and I then asked him if he would have anything before he went—he said he would have half a pint—I immediately said, "Draw him a pint"—he said, "I shall be here by 6 o'clock in the morning (he was working opposite me) and bring the receipt"—he repeated that over several times, and he said, "What time do you open?"—I said, "About 6 o'clock, but you have no occasion to come there till you come into breakfast, unless you like"—he said, "I shall want half a pint of beer"—he had been in the habit of coming to my house to breakfast—as he was going out, he asked me if I had got a stick to lend him, and I lent him a stick—he went out, and there was an umbrella standing in the corner, belonging to another party—I saw him take that away, and the barman lent him a handkerchief to put round his neck—he got a handkerchief, a stick, and an umbrella, saying he would bring them all back in the morning—he did not come in the morning, nor in the day, nor the next day—about 10 o'clock I went to Edmondston, and asked the question whether he had been there, and they said he had not—I gave instructions that he should be taken, and I saw him two days afterwards at the Tottenham station—the station is about two miles from where I live—Mr. Staines lives at Edmonton—I did not give the prisoner the money for any other purpose but for the purpose of its being paid to the tax-gatherer; certainly not—he did not say a word to me when I saw him at the station—I ascertained that at the first place he went to from me he changed the sovereign, and had a quarter of with it.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you get the other things after he was in custody? A. His brother sent those articles back.
COURT. Q. Was he in liquor? A. No, he was not at all the worse for liquor.
RICHARD STAINES . I am collector of the poor rate—I reside at Ford-street, Edmonton, near the Angel, on the east side going down. I did not receive from the prisoner 1l. 12s. for Mr. Gilling's poor rate neither on Wednesday nor any other day—I do not know the prisoner at all.
COURT. Q. Do you know your neighbours? A. Every one of them—the prisoner does not live in any house within six doors of me—he does not live within half a mile of me.
JURY. Q. Does he pass your house in going home?. A. No, in going from Wood Green, Tottenham is before you come to Edmonton.
JAMES HOSKINGS (police sergeant, N 44). I am stationed at Tottenham. On Friday, 2nd Nov., I went to where the prisoner lives, and took him into custody—he did not give me opportunity to tell him what it was for—he said, "I know, I know"—as we were going on I explained the charge to h im, and he said, "D—the b—money, they had no business to give it me "—I should say that where he lives is three-quarters of a mile from Mr. Staines.
GUILTY. Aged 32.
(The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted.)
JAMES HARRINGTON . I am an inspector of police—I produce a certificate of the prisoner's former conviction—(This certified the conviction of Henry Brown me this Court, in Feb.,1852, of larceny, after a previous convistion, and that he was sentenced to six months' imprisonment)—the prisoner is the person—I was present to prove the former conviction, which was for being concerned with three others in stealing some geese.
GUILTY Aged 32.— Judgment Respited.
MR. W. J. PAYNE conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES WEEDON . I live in Milton-street, Gloucester-square. On 15th Nov., about half past 5 o'clock, I was in the New-road, near Park-square—the prisoner stopped me and spoke to me—he asked me if I would go on a message for him—I said I would—I went with him—he walked over into Park-crescent—that is on the other side of the way—he then gave me a letter—this is the envelope of it—I did not see the inside of it—it is directed to Mr. Horne, No. 9, Munster-street—it appeared to me to contain something—he told me to take it to Mr. Horne's, and wait for an answer, and to bring it back to Mr. Earl, No. 12, Park-crescent—I was to knock at the door and ring the servant's bell, and ask to see Mr. Earl, and he would recompense me for my trouble—I went to Mr. Horne and gave him the letter, and in consequence of what he said, I went back towards Mr. Earl's house, where I was told to go—I was going back with an answer, and when I got to the corner of Albany-street, which I had to pass to go to Mr. Earl's, I saw the prisoner—he came up to me and asked me if I was the boy he sent with the note just before—I told him yes, and he asked me how I got on—I told him what Mr. Horne had said, that he did not know me, and he would send an answer directly—the prisoner then said, "It is very awkward; run back, and ask him to send it by you directly"—I went back up Albany-street, and turned the first turning to the right towards Mr. Home's—I went round the corner, and I looked back and saw the prisoner and another man following me—I went down to Munster-street, and I saw the prisoner a few yards behind me—he put his hand up to his face and went into a doorway—I went on to Mr. Horne's, and in con-sequence of what he said I went back, and he followed me—when I got a little way from Mr. Horne's I saw the prisoner—I went up to him and took hold of him—I told Mr. Horne that was the man who gave me the note—there was another man walking with the prisoner—Mr. Horne took hold of the prisoner, and he sent me after the other man, who ran away—I have not the least doubt that the prisoner is the man who gave me the note and told me to take it to Mr. Horne.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. Did you ever say before, that the prisoner put his hand to his face? A. Yes; at the police court—this was on 15th Nov., about half past 5o'clock—there was a little fog; not a great fog, it was foggy—I never saw the prisoner before—when I went on he was following me—I was walking, and he after me, and another man with him—I looked behind, suspecting something wrong—after I returned I saw him and another man—I seized the prisoner—I then ran after the other man—I am not certain what sort of man the other was—I did not take notice of him—the prisoner was with me about a minute when he first spoke to me—he gave me the message, and I went off.
MR. PAYNE. Q. There were a great many gas lights there? A. Yes—I had an opportunity of seeing the man's face.
RICHARD EDWARD HORNE . I am a butcher, in partnership with my brother—I live at No. 9, Munster-street. On the day in question, the last witness came to me and brought a letter—this is the envelope of it—Mr. Peter Earl is a customer of mine—Viscount Ebrington is not a customer of mine—the letter was asking me for change for this cheque, which purports to be a cheque on the Joint Stock Bank, in favour of Viscount Ebrington
—in consequence of what the last witness told me I tent my apprentice to Mr. Earl's—this is not like Mr. Earl's writing—I sent the change by my apprentice to Mr. Earl's, and he brought it back again—the last witness returned, and in consequence of what I said he went out, and I followed him—when we got a few yards from my house he went without any hesitation up to the prisoner, who was standing with another person—the witness said, "This is the man that gave me the note"—I said, two or three times, "Can you swear to him, positively?"—he said he could, and I took hold of the prisoner, and sent the witness alter the other person who ran away—the prisoner said something, but I cannot remember what—I asked him to go with me to Park-crescent, and on the way I met a police-man and gave him into custody.
Cross-examined Q. As soon as you took hold of the prisoner what did you say to him? A. I was so excited, I should not like to swear what I did say, my recollection will not carry me back so far—I think I said some-thing—I do not think I told him why I took him—I merely took him across the road till I saw an officer—when he resisted, I thought discretion was the better part of valour, and I called a neighbour—when I called the neighbour the prisoner went quietly—the neighbour had no occasion to help me at all—the prisoner went quiet then.
MR. PAYNE. Q. Did not the witness take hold of him, and say, "This is the man that gave me the note"? A. Yes.
SAMUEL DEANE (policeman S 245). On the night of 15th Nov. I was on duty in Munster-street—the prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Horne—he charged him with attempting to pass a forged cheque on him—the prisoner said, "I am not the man"—I took him to the station house, and found 1. 7d. on him—he gave his address No. 10, Exeter-street, Strand—I went there the same evening and found it was false; he was not known there—No. 10 is a lodging house.
Cross-examined Q. The moment you arrested him, he said, I am not the man"? A. Yes.
ALFRED SCRIVENER . I am cashier in the London Joint Stock Bank—Viscount Ebrington does not keep any cash at our house, and never has done—this is a cheque delivered out from our house to a customer named A. G. Pooley.
Cross-examined Q. Has Pooley any account at your house? A. Not now; he had—he was a bankrupt at the time this cheque is dated, and had no account with us.
THOMAS DEARE . I am footman to Dr. Shuts, of No. 22, Mecklenburg-square. About 17th Oct., the prisoner came to me in Gray's Inn-road, about 5 o'clock—he stopped me, and asked me if I would go on an errand—I said, "Yes "—he gave me a letter, which, I believe, has been burnt by the servant at the house where I took it—I did not see it burnt.
JOSEPH SMOUT . I live at No. 56, North-place, Gray's Inn-road, and am a butcher. On 17th Oct., the witness Parkes brought me a letter and a book; I have them here—the letter was directed to Mr. Smout—it contained a cheque and this book—this book is a regular weekly account of a gentle-man named Shopper—the book shows a balance of 19s. 8d. due to me from Mr. Shopper—I gave Parkes the difference between the cheque and the amount due to me, which was 8l. 10s. 4d.—I gave that to Parkes.
Cross-examined A. Had that book been in the habit of being brought to your shop? A. Yes, almost every week by my man—he was in the habit of receiving it of the cook, in general; sometimes from the lady—it is a regular weekly account.
Cross-examined Q. What hour was it you saw the prisoner? A. Ten minutes past 7 o'clock—when I was asked, I was not very positive about the prisoner—it being gas light, I could not be positive.
MR. PAYNE. Q. Did the prisoner walk with you up Henry-street? A. Yes, to the railings of Mr. Shopper's house—to the best of my recollection he is the man—I believe him to be the man—I have no doubt on my mind, but being in the dark I should not like to swear it.
COURT. Q. Did you see him again? A. When I came back, I met him at the same place as I did before—he said, "Have you got it?"—I said, "Yes"—I gave him the money in his hand—he shoved 6d. into my hand, and walked very sharp away.
ALFRED SCRIVENER . I am cashier to the London Joint Stock Bank. This cheque is drawn on the bank in the name of William Moseley—it is out of the same cheque book as the last cheque—Mr. Moseley has no account there, and never had.
HENRY BLANDFORD . I live at No. 2, Popkin's-row, Buckingham-gate. I recollect meeting the prisoner about six weeks ago, about a quarter before 8 o'clock in the evening—he stepped off the step of Howchin's Hotel, in St. James's-street—he touched me on the shoulder, and asked me if I would run with this note to No. 5, Dover-street, to Mr. Spiking, a baker—he told me to give it to him, and to make haste back, as there would be something in it, and he would give me a shilling, as he had no waiters in—I took the note to Mr. Spiking, and went back with Mr. Spiking to the hotel, but I did not see the prisoner there—I am quite certain he is the man.
Cross-examined Q. Did you ever see him before? A. Never—the next time I saw him was about five weeks after at High-street, Marylebone—I was sent for, and swore to the man—I knew I was going to swear against him.
MR. PAYNE. Q. I suppose Howchin's Hotel has a light?A. Yes, and it was a very light night—I am certain the prisoner is the man.
WILLIAM SPIKING . I am a baker, and live at No. 5, Dover-street, Picca-dilly. I received this note from the last witness—it contained a cheque for 8l. 8s. on the London Joint Stock Bank, drawn by Viscount Ebrington—I saw it was a forgery, and I did not give the money.
GUILTY . Aged 37.— Four Years Penal Servitude.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
house perfectly secure, about 7 o'clock at night—I had in that warehouse a number of calf skins and neat hides—in consequence of a communication made to me, I returned to town on Sunday morning, and went to that warehouse, about 1 o'clock—it had been broken open, and I missed from my stock four dozen calf skins, from a lot of five down, and three neat hides from another lot—I had left some dogs there—they wan alive when I returned, but one died on the Tuesday—it never ate anything more—the entry had been made at the door—I had a hasp and a hanging lock inside, they broke it off—there were eight different Marks on the door—I saw Jackson put the chisel to the door—I took notice, and can swear that it fitted some of the marks—they broke the outer door of the warehouse open with that.
WILLIAM FEATHERSTONE . I am a broker, and live in Hare-street. On Monday, 5th Nov., I was at the Fox and Hounds, in Hare-street, about 12 o'clock—I saw the prisoner there—he asked me if I know anybody that wanted to buy any leather, and produced two small samples—I cannot tell what skins they were, one was thick, the other was thin—I said, "I know a shoemaker, I will ask him"—I took the pieces away to show, and in consequence of what was said to me, I went back and told the prisoner he could not buy them by that sample; I asked him to give me a larger sample—he said that he had about 78 lbs. weight to dispose of—on the 6th, I went to the prisoner's house, in company with the prosecutor and a policeman—I saw Jackson find some leather—he was stooping down, and palled it from somewhere, under the bedstead I believe—I saw him find some small pieces—they were not the same as those which had been offered to me.
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Had you known the prisoner before? A. Yes—he used to live in Hare-street—I took the policeman to his house, I knew where he lived—he said he had 78 lbs. weight to dispose of—he did not say for whom, I did not ask him—there was no concealment about it—there might have been two or three persons in the public house.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you make an arrangement with the prisoner that some person should come and look at the leather in his house? A. Yes, at about 5 o'clock—the man promised to come, but did not.
MR. PAYNE Q. Was that after you had told him that the shoemaker could not judge by the samples. A. Yes; the prisoner said he would get the skins and he should see them.
HENRY JACKSON , (police sergeant, H 11). I went to the prisoner's house in Bath-street, Hackney-road, on the afternoon of 6th Nov.—I was accompanied by the last witness and the prosecutor—the prisoner was not at home—I left a constable in charge of the place while I went to look for the prisoner—when I came back he was come home—I bad searched the house prior to the prisoner's return—I found one calf skin and part of two sides in this bag under the bed—I found two or three small pieces—there are two places in these skins where there has been a small piece cut off—in a boat under the bed I found these two chisels, a picklock, and a centrebit without a handle—I took the chisel to the prosecutor's warehouse, and compered it with the marks on the door where the entrance had been made—it exactly fitted the marks on the door in four places—when the prisoner came in I showed him the bag, and the leather was in it—I asked him where he got this leather from—he said, "I shall decline answering any questions"—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Q. How many marks were on the door altogether? A. Several smaller marks, and four large ones—I cannot call this anything
but a chisel—the prisoner was not there when I found the box—he said he should be able to satisfy me about the leather.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Had you drawn out the box from under the bed? A. Yes; I had taken it out—I believed these things were in the bag.
COURT. Q. How did you make a comparison with this chisel? A. I laid it by the side of the marks and compared it—there is a remarkable bend in the edge of the chisel.
JOSEPH BATTY re-examined. Q. This skin has a mark on it A. It is mine—it was safe in my warehouse on the Saturday night—I prepared the skins—they went through my hands seven times—I have similar skins to them at home.
MR. PAYNE to HENRY JACKSON. Q. Who was the other policeman? A. William Savage—he is here—he remained while I went to search for the prisoner—when I got back I found the officer and the prisoner there.
WILLIAM SAVAGE examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did you go with the other officer to the house? A. Yes—the prisoner came in before the officer did—the prisoner did not say that the man who gave him the samples was waiting below for them—he said nothing of the kind.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say, "Let me go for him," and did not you say, "Not till Jackson comes"? A. No; you said you wanted to go in the back yard.
(The prisoner' statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows: "On the morning of the 5th I met a man they call 'Charley' in Finsbury square; he gave me the skins out of his cart as a sample, to sell as a job if I could; I went to Mr. Featherston, and he said a man would call at 5 o'clock; but he did not, so I took the two skins home")
GUILTY† of Receiving . Aged 42.— Four Years Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, November 30th,1855.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. HUNTER; Mr. Ald. CUBITT; Mr. Ald. EAGLETON; and RUSSELL GURNEY, Esq.
Before Russell Gurney, Esq., and the Eighth Jury.
HARRIET CHURLEY . I am in the employ of Mr. Henry Turner, of Bishopsgate-street, ready made linen warehouse. On the Tuesday before 26th Nov., the prisoner came there, and asked for 10s. for Mr. Brown, who bad some work out to do—she had been there many times for work for Mr. Brown—I saw the cashier give her 10s., and she said that Mr. Brown would bring a cloak in in the morning.
THOMAS BROWN . I am an embroiderer, of No. 24, Aldermanbury. The prisoner has been in my employment—she had no authority from me to receive money, nor did she bring any to me—I heard of this, and said to her, "Have you had 10s. from Mr. Turner?"—she said, "No"—I took her back—the shopman swore to her, and I gave her into custody.
HENRY JAMES COOK . I am superintendent of Mr. Turner's warehouse. The prisoner, I believe it was, applied to me for 10s. for Mr. Brown—I cannot take my oath to her—we pay small sums without taking any acknowledgment—it is not usual to take a receipt from Work people.
GUILTY. Aged 17.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecutor.— Judgment Respited .
CHARLES ALLEN . I am the Deputy Clerk of the Peace, at Westminster. I was present on the trial of a person named Webb, before Serjeant Adams at that Court, on Tuesday, 6th Nov.—I produce an examined copy of the Record—the prisoner was called on the part of the defendant—I saw him sworn, and heard what he said.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Do you speak from your own independent recollection? A. Well; before I challenged my memory on the subject I was requested to make a copy of the Judge's notes; and I then saw what the Judge had taken down—I can state the purport of the prisoner's evidence from my own recollection.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Give what you can pledge yourself to recollect Witness. I recollect that the prisoner said that be accompanied Webb to be enlisted; and that the sergeant asked Webb whether he was married or single; that Webb said that he was married, that the prisoner said that he him self was single, and the sergeant then enlisted both of them; that when Webb said that he was married the sergeant said, "All right," or something to that offset, and gave him the shilling.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. You hear a great many trials, you sit there the whole day? A. Yes, unfortunately—I do not recollect everything said by witnesses—before I was asked about this, I made a copy of the notes, and then saw the exact words that the sergeant had taken down, but I distinctly remembered the facts of the case—as far as my recollection goes, Webb was undefended—my impression is that he interrupted the Judge in the process of summing up, and stated that he had informed the sergeant that he was married, and had witnesses to prove the fact, and gave the names of the two persons—the two witnesses were then called, and were asked what they knew about it, and they stated it—I recollect the prisoner distinctly saying that he heard Webb say to the sergeant that he was a married man—I recollect his saying that the conversation took place at the bar of a public house, and that there were other persons there, but he did not say anything about a noise—he pointed to a distance at which he said that he was from the sergeant—I recollect the other man's evidence, it was to the same effect—the prisoner said that he came to be enlisted with Webb, the other man said that he went with Webb, but not to be enlisted, and was not asked whether he was married or single, but that the prisoner was asked—he said that they were drinking at the bar—I do not recollect his saying that it wag in the evening—some persons were called, but I do not think Mr. Bodkin, who conducted the prosecution for the War Office, cross-examined them—I think the questions were put by the Judge—the sergeant who had enlisted them and another sergeant were then recalled, and Mr. Bodkin then made a short statement to the jury.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Do you recollect at what period of the transaction
the prisoner alleged that the sergeant gave the shilling? A. After he told him he was a married man, I am sure of that.
BENJAMIN HANDICOTT . I am a sergeant of the 23rd regiment, and have been employed lately on the recruiting service—on 29th Oct. a man named Webb, came with sergeant Clary with the intention of enlisting—Webb, Adams, Watts, and Clary all came together—Watts was another witness for the defendant at the trial—I did not say much to Webb—I knew that they came to enlist, and asked them, but they did not feel inclined to at first—I was there two hours, and afterwards Clary came to me and said, "I think they are in the mind for enlisting now"—Adams and Clary were in the box—I asked Webb if he was married or an apprentice—he said that he was not married, but was living with a girl—Adams must hare heard that—on that I gave him 1s.—we are not allowed to enlist married men—if we do, the bounty money comes out of our own pockets—when we got to the police court next day a wife turned up.
Cross-examined. Q. They were two hours in the public house? A. Yes, they were playing at bagatelle and drinking—I cannot say what they were drinking—there were not a great many people there—the public house is in the Broadway, Westminster—I believe the men came from Kingston—I thought they were fit for the army, and was very anxious to have them—they were not anxious at first—I did not persuade them, but it is my duty to get every one I can—I asked them to enlist, but they did not feel inclined—I cannot say exactly how long they remained after that—they knew as well as I did whether it was a glorious thing to be in a battle, as I have never been in one—it was not a large box that I went into, it holds about four people—this was in the afternoon—I did not sit down in the box—I stood up, they were sitting down—no conversation had passed before that about their being married—I had enlisted the prisoner before that—I had asked him if he was married—the men were not drunk, they might have drunk a quart of beer in. the two hours—I never enlist persons that are drunk, I treat them to a glass or two—I should have asked them before I did whether they were married or single, but they did not seem inclined to enlist—I thought they came there to enlist—the sergeant afterwards came and said, "I think they will enlist now," and then I went to the box and asked whether he was married or an apprentice—we are not allowed to enlist apprentices or married men, if we do we have the loss—the question I put was to Webb—Adams was sitting in the same box.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. When he made the answer and you paid him, was he or was he not drunk? A. He was not—I think they then went and got something to eat.
JURY. Q. Have you ever enlisted men who turned out to be married? A. Yes, two or three times, but not knowing it at the time, I have not lost the money—if I pay three or four day's money, and when they are before the Magistrate they say that they are married, then I lose my money, but if they get attested as single men, I do not.
JOHN CLARY . I am a sergeant of the Surrey militia, and am employed in recruiting for the militia. I met Webb, Watts, and Adams, and brought them to the house where Handicott was—(Webb and Adams belonged to my regiment of militia, but Watts did not)—I gave them a pot of porter for the purpose of inducing them to enlist—I took them afterwards to the Broad-
way, and got some more porter for them, and they played at bagatelle for two hours—I got them into a little box in front of the bar, and at the time they enlisted Adams and Webb only were together—I got their minds made up for enlistment, and sergeant Handicott came and asked Webb if he was willing to enlist—he said "Yes"—he asked if he was married or single, and they both said that they were single men—he gave them a shilling.
Cross-examined. Q. You seem to be the person whose business it was to ply them with porter? A. You mean to encourage them to enlist, my captain sent me out on that duty—I cannot say that I gave them more than two pots of porter—there were two of them—they had some more after they enlisted—in my opinion they had not had four pot before they enlisted, but I will not swear it—I have not to give an account of what I spend for beer—it comes out of my own pocket—I do not know whether, when I had got their courage up, I said to the sergeant, "They are all right now, go at them!"—I do not know the exact words I said—I heard the words "married or single"—I was in the box at the time—I will swear that they both said that they were single men.
MR. POLAND. Q. Was Webb sober? A. Yes, and the prosecutor.
GEORGE JORDAN . I am a sergeant in the Rifle Brigade, I was present, and heard the sergeant ask Webb whether he was married—he said, "No"—he said, "Are you an apprentice?"—Webb said, "No"—he then asked him if he belonged to the militia—Webb said, "Yes"—he was sober, and so was Adams.
Cross-examined. Q. Were they in a box, playing at bagatelle? A. No, they were drinking in the box—they had been playing at bagatelle up stairs—I was close to them at the time, and heard the conversation—I did not drink a drop—I cannot say whether Clary did—I know that Clary went for the sergeant, but do not know what he said to him—I did not see who fetched the sergeant to the box, but I saw him come—that was the first time I saw the sergeant speaking to them—he stood there ten minutes before they enlisted—I had seen sergeant Handicott during the day, but had not spoken to them about these men—I knew nothing about them—I waited to see them enlist—I went into the box accidentally, and the sergeant was there—the conversation had begun before I went there—I had not been sent for—the box is nearly opposite the bar—I was standing facing the bar—our general rule is to listen to what is said—I have not been talking to sergeant Handicott about this since the trial—I was not at the Westminster Session—I was served with a subpoena to come here—they knew that I was present, because I went up to Westminster Sessions House—I went there of my own accord—since that I have never spoken to Handicott or Clary on the matter.
MR. POLAND. Q. When Watts was tried, were you in Court? A. No—I was at the Sessions House, and after the trial I was bound over.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. POLLAND conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES ALLEN . This witness's evidence in the last case was read over to him, to which he assented, and added:—Watts was sworn and examined—he said that he went with Webb, and heard the sergeant ask him whether he was married or single, and I heard Webb reply that he was married and then saw the sergeant give him a shilling.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Which of them was called first? A. The other person—sergeant Adams took down what was stated—he is
not here—after the evidence was given, the Court directed a prosecution which stamped it on my memory—it is an unusual thing for evidence to character to be rebutted by subsequent evidence—during a trial I have other matters to attend to—my attention is distracted—I did not look at the notes to refresh my memory, but to make a copy of them—I have a distinct recollection of hearing Watts state that Webb said that he was married—I believe most distinctly that I recollect hearing him say that he saw the sergeant give him the shilling.
Q. Might not it be the other prisoner? A. My impression is that they gave exactly the same evidence, except that the second person was not asked whether he was married or single, as he did not enlist—I cannot say what effect the notes had on my recollection—they are here—I cannot say whether before I looked at them I had any distinct recollection of his saying that the sergeant gave him a shilling.
BENJAMIN HANDICOTT . This witness's evidence was read over to him, to which he added:—The defendant was not present, and could not have heard what took place—the persons present were Webb, Adams; myself, and sergeant Clary.
Cross-examined. Q. Webb came with this man? A. Yes; he was playing at bagatelle—I did not see him in the box at any time—I am confident that he was not there at that time—I saw Watts four or five minutes after he had got the shilling—it is not a very large public house—there was no one drinking in the bar—Watts came in at the bar or down stairs—I saw him in front of the bar—I had conversed with Webb and Watts up stairs—they may have been up stairs a couple of hours—I was going in and out while they were playing, but had not much conversation with them—sergeant Clary came and said to me, "I think they are in the mind to enlist."
JOHN CLARY . When Webb enlisted, Adams, myself, sergeant Handicott, and the Rifle sergeant Jordan, were present—the defendant was not present, either in the box or the bar—he could not have heard what was said.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you been in Court while the sergeant was being examined? A. No—I came in just now—Watts came with the other men, and was playing at bagatelle with them up stairs previous to the enlistment—I saw Watts four, five, or six minutes after the enlistment, before the bar—the other people in the public house were civilians and profligate girls, no one else—I did not see where Watts came from when he came in, or whether he came from the street or the back place—I did not see him come in, but I saw him in the bar afterwards.
GEORGE JORDAN . I was present when Webb was enlisted—Adams, sergeant Clary, and sergeant Handicott, were present—the defendant was not present when the shilling was given—I saw him afterwards—he came in, three or four minutes after the man was enlisted, while the sergeant was taking the names of the recruits who had enlisted.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Handicott standing up when he gave the shilling? A. I cannot say—he might be leaning over—I saw him give the shilling.
NOT GUILTY .
66. JAMES WORTHINGTON MAUDE , unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, of Thomas Reginald Kemp, and George Clay, an order for the payment of 140l., with intent to defraud. 2nd COUNT. Unlawfully conspiring with EDWARD WHITBY , to defraud the said Thomas Reginald Kemp and George Clay of 800l.
MESSRS. PARRY and TALFOURD SALTER CONDUCTED the Proeecution.
THOMAS REGINALD KEMP . I am in partnership with Mr. Clay, at Nicholas-lane, as bill brokers and bankers. We have been in the habit, for three or four years past, of having bill transactions with a firm in Nicholas-lane, which traded under the name of Messrs. Covington—they have been in the habit of sending us bills for the purpose of discounting—those transactions have been carried on with Mr. Maude—about 12th April this year, I heard of the death of Mr. Covington senior—about twelve months before that Maude said that there were six partners, Mr. Covington senior, Mr. Covington junior, himself, and 1 do not recollect positively the others, but I remember some one of the name of H—, which I afterwards learned was Mr. Hill—he named five besides himself and enumerated their names; it did not occur to me as very important, and I did not take the names down—Whitby was not present, but he confirmed it afterwards, I do not know when, exactly—I cannot charge my memory with the conversation, except that there were several partners—I should not like to say that he enumerated them—when Mr. Covington died, I had another conversation with Maude; he came in, and Mr. Clay referred to the death being in the paper, and said, "I suppose there will be more to divide"—I understood that he would get the benefit of that—Maude said, "Yes, there will be"—he also said that there were four more partners remaining; I thought he meant four besides himself—he at that time produced some bills to me—I asked him incidentally, whether they were his usual trade bills—he seemed rather surprised at the question; and I said, "There is nothing of accommodation about them"—he said, "Certainly not, we have no others"—from April to July we continued to advance him money on various bills to between 1,600l. and l,800l.—about 14th July, I told Maude that I was going on the continent for. eight weeks, and asked him if he was likely to want any money during my absence—he said that he would let me know—I have a letter here (produced)—this other letter is the reply to it—(read: "Dear Sir; Nicholas-lane, July 13. We have as you desired us, made a rough calculation of the amount of bills we expect to receive in the course of business in the next six weeks, which we find will amount to about 800l.; our liabilities are, I am happy to say, very light")—that is in Maude's· writing—I returned to town on 26th Aug., and on 27th Aug. Maude called with reference to some bills sent to us in my absence—I had the account of his bills before me (looking at a book)—I believe the bilk I referred to were one for 29l. on Whitbyi, one for 70l. on Gane, one for 117l. 14s. on Gane, and one for 77l. 10s. on Eichardson—I said, "I suppose these are genuine trade bills"—he said, "Yes"—I believe Mr. Clay was present, we generally sit together; it is very seldom that we are away from each other—he did not tell us how they came into his hands, we did not like to ask him such a question, as they were regular trade bills—we have two classes of accounts, in one we discount bills at once without any reduction, the other is where we have banking accounts, and a certain proportion is left as a balance—that proportion is 25 per cent.—we have a banking account with Messrs. Covington—I asked Mr. Maude how much he wanted on these bills, he said, "140l. "—we certainly should not have advanced him that amount unless he had made the representation to us with reference to the number of partners in the firm, nor without inquiry, if we had known that he was the only partner—we certainly should not have advanced it unless we had believed that there were several partners in the firm; nor under any circumstances if we had not believed that they were regular trade bills—we
had other transactions of a like nature up to 22nd Oct—we saw the name of Gane on one of the bills—we had refused a bill on 18th Oct., and about 22nd Oct. Maude called; he had left three or four bills with that of Gane's, and pressed me to take that bill; I declined—he brought it again, and I declined—he said that there was a bill of Gane's due that day which would not be paid—I said, "Perhaps the better plan will be for me to tell you why I have doubts about it; some little time ago I saw the name of Gane in a list of County Court judgments; and I said that if a man could not pay 11l. 1s., I thought he was not fit to accept a bill for 100l.; he still urged me, I declined, and he took it away—I saw Whit by on, I think, 2nd Nov.—I was not at that time aware that he was the acceptor of those bills which had been the subject of conversation—I did not know him as Whitby, but simply as Messrs. Covington's clerk—he came in, and from the fact of my having called there the day before, and got the information that his name was Whitby from the office, I said, "Is your name Whitby?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Are you the acceptor of those bills which were brought to us from Covington and Co.?"—he said, "I never brought you my acceptance, I purposely avoided it"—Mr. Clay replied, "But you had two-thirds of the money always, you took care not to tell us that you were the acceptor"—he said something which I forget, and my reply was, "Do you think we should have discounted your bills if we had known you were a clerk to Covington and Co."—he said, "Has not Mr. Maude told you all this?"—that had such an effect upon me that I was astonished, and I recollect that remark distinctly.
Cross-examined by MR. BALLANTINE. Q. What do you say your firm is? A. Thomas Reginald Kemp and George Clay, we hold ourselves out to the world as Kemp, Clay, and Co.—there are no other partners, the "Co." means nobody—we added Co. to our firm when we first began business together; there was nobody then.
Q. Are you not holding yourselves out as you say Maude did, as having partners that do not belong to you? A. Our firm is Kemp, Clay, and Co.—I do not know that there is any object in the "Co.," I do not recollect why we put it in—there are hundreds and thousands of firms who do so—I do not know what prompted us to do it, it is well known that we are only two—I did not intend to represent that there were other persons in the firm than myself and Mr. Clay, nor would that imply that there were, there is Sir John Lubbock and Co., but there is only Sir John Lubbock in the firm—I had recently been bankrupt, and I believe my partner had been bankrupt some years before, but I had known him twenty-five years, and did not know it; I hear it now, but do not even now know when it was—this matter was investigated on several occasions at the Mansion House—Whitby was charged before Alderman Wire, and discharged—it is not by my directions that he is included in this indictment, nor by my partner's, to my knowledge; I was rather surprised to see him—I do not say that I am not prosecuting him willingly, but I was astonished that the Lord Mayor discharged him, because I thought him the worst of the two, and I was astonished to see him here as the Lord Mayor had discharged him—I did not know that he was in the indictment till yesterday afternoon—I have had dealings with these gentlemen three or four years, to the amount of several thousand pounds, in bills, never in anything else—I found Whitby's name on a good many of them—they were taken up at maturity—I do not think it would amount to 10,000l., but I should think quite 8,000l—we are left creditors to the amount of 875l—I do not think the plan of keeping
back 25 per cent. continued during that period, but in the hundreds of thousands we do I cannot recollect, (referring to a book)I think it began in 1854—we had been discounting for him since 1852—we deducted the 25 per cent in 1854 because he then opened a banking account—instead of paying him the whole of his bills, we deducted 25 per cent—I call that a banking account—we are bankers, and have depositors independent of bill transactions—25 per cent was kept back from the latter end of 1854—supposing Maude has had every shilling on these bills, there would be 875l. owing to us, because the bills amounted to more than that; there would have been a balance in hand if all the bills were paid, to the amount of 25 per cent, on 875l.—that plan was adopted because we were, of course, more liable with our bills than we were with our banking accounts; in times of difficulty, we feel it our duty to supply money to persons who bank with us, but general customers we should let go elsewhere—we consider banking customers entitled to more allowance than ordinary customers—I cannot say whether that is our only motive, we might feel inclined to keep one customer, and not another—we did not deduct the 25 per cent, because we were inclined to keep Maude, but among the number of customers we have in times like the present, when money is dear, we feel it our duty to find them money
Q. But it appears that that is like taking their money? A. You cannot call it that, because we have got their bills—suppose you bring me 1,000l. in bills, and I give you 750l., I have not got any of your money—we, of course, keep back 25 per cent, our object in doing that is the same as other bankers would, to keep a balance on the account—it is our practice always to have 25 per cent on every account, for conducting the account
COURT. Q. What was your object in making the proposal? A. We ask them if they are inclined to open a banking account, or they might hare asked us—we have a great number of these accounts, and when we can get them, of course we do.
MR. BALLANTINE Q. Did you do so? A. I will not swear that I did. Q. Do you think that Mr. Maude proposed that when he wanted 1000l. worth of bills discounted, you should only give 750l.? A. It is not very likely that either of us would have put it in that way—we never knew that he was pressed for money—I swear that I cannot tell you who proposed it, he or I—it may have come from Maude is 1854, he having 250l. per thousand in our hands—I call this a banking account, if a cheque had been drawn for it the next day it would not have been paid, but it would have been paid immediately the bills became due—if a 100l. bill had been paid next day he would have been entitled to 25l., but if a cheque was drawn before that, he would not get his money, because he would not have any to get—this had not been done with Maude till 1854—I cannot say whether this was held as a matter of security, but if any one were to open an account with us to day we should tell him that it is our habit to keep 25 per sent on every account—we should not tell him that it is for security, because it would not enter into our minds, but we should not, nevertheless, go and discount his bills because he brought them, and there was a balance in our hands—I do not think any such idea as keeping it for security was in our minds—I will not venture to swear that it was, or that it was not—I do not know why we did not adopt it till 1854, except that it was an advantage to both parties to have a banking account—I never heard Whitby's name till that day—we are nearly opposite to Covington's premises—I do not know that Whitby has been there the whole time
that Maude has been carrying on the business—I have been in the habit of, seeing him for twelve months at least—I do not remember that it is more—I have seen Mr. Covington's clerk it may be two years—I never knew him in any other way—I very seldom went there, Whitby frequently came to us—I never saw him on the Coal Exchange—though his name was on the bills, I never knew that hid name was Whitby—Maude has been in the habit of paying us cheques—they were on Sapte and Co. I think, but it was very seldom, that he paid us in that way, not above once or twice—the bills were usually taken up by the acceptor—we received very few sum of money from him—we have been in Nicholas-lane four or five years—I did not know old Mr. Covington personally, or by sight, or any of the Covingtons—I never saw anybody in the business but Mr. Maude—I find now, that the name of Mr. Maude is painted under that of Covington on the door, and I have no reason to doubt that it was there before—I have not been a partner with Mr. Clay the whole five years, only since 1852—I know that there is such a person as Mr. Hill, I know him by sight—I had a conversation with him after this inquiry at the Mansion-house—I did not tell him that I did not believe that Mr. Maude ever intended to defraud us—I swear that—I will not swear that there was nothing to that effect—I do not think Mr. Clay in my presence said so—I will not swear that he did not—I did not say, "We want our money; it is a very small sum for Mr. Maude's father and brothers to make up between them," nor did Mr. Clay in my presence—Mr. Hill requested to know whether he could talk to us as men of honor—I said, "I prefer listen to what you have to say "—he said, "May I say what I wish without a word being breathed?"—we said, "Yes"—(MR. PARRY objected to this, and the rest of the conversation was not given)—I think Mr. Maude's father and brothers were mentioned—I shall be very cautious with this, to swear to the truth of it, because I should imagine that Mr. Hill's recollection would be equal to mine—I do not believe that Mr. Maude, or his father, or son were mentioned in the way you put it—their names were mentioned—I have not the slightest recollection of what was said about them, because I purposely avoided remembering it—I said, "Mr. day, I shall have nothing to do with this; if anything is to be done let counsel confer together, and let the matter be arranged with them, I will not be any party to this proposal"—I would not even say that what was said about Maude's father and brothers was not said by me, because it was general conversation, and a great deal of it was going on—what was said about Mr. Maude's father compromising the matter, was said by Mr. Hill—it was not suggested by me or Mr. Clay—Mr. Hill came in, shut our door, and asked if he could speak with us in confidence—Mr. Clay said, "Yes" Mr. Hill said, "Can the matter be arranged if the friends meet together? "—I said that I did not know, for I thought it was a felony, and was quite guarded—then the conversation went on again, and Mr. Hill went away under the impression that we were not indisposed to compromise it if counsel were of the same opinion—I did not know what the compromise would be—I was a bankrupt in 1848 for about 15,000l.—I do not know that 5s. in the pound was offered as a compromise in this case before any charge was made against the defendants—it was made to me personally, but in confidence—the gentleman is in Court—it was Mr. Surr, but without his permission I ought not to say—I have paid a good deal in the pound since my bankruptcy, but I paid nothing at the time; I have really struggled on till the last moment—I bought up the debts to the amount of 6,000l. or 7,000l.—they were very old debts and I gave 25l. for them—I
bought of my assignees part of my estate certain books and papers which should not be lost—I had three months' suspension, and then received a second class certificate—I have been engaged as a bill broker for the last twenty years—I never was a director of the Tonridge Junction Railway—I have been a director of six railways, but not of all in which my name appears, they put it in without my knowledge or sanction—I did not enter into business before my bankruptcy with a man named Massey—I had business with Massey and Jarvis—I received more than 7,000l. or 8,000l. from them—more like 70,000l. or 80,000l.—I cannot say whether I re-ceived about 7,000l., about a month before my bankruptcy; you seem to think I am not wishing to tell the truth, but I do—I retired from business two or three years before 1848—I left a party to carry on my business, but he did not do it with success—I was obliged to resume it, but it had gone too far for me to get over the difficulty—during that part of the business the account with Massey and Jarvis continued, and bills were continually being discounted—I do not think I received anything like 7,000l. or 8,000l. cash from Messrs. Massey a month before my bankruptcy—I would not dare to swear so long ago, but I should hardly think it possible, because I had only been in difficulties some four, five, or six months—I did not receive money from them to the amount of 4,000l. or 5,000l., nor yet at many shillings—I was bankrupt in 1848—I had stopped payment several months before—Mr. Massey did not get a farthing from me because I had stopped—I should think he has, but not from me, from the bills and securities, many thousands—there was not also a considerable sum of money belonging to Miss Carter when I stopped payment—she had not parted with a considerable sum to me, the whole she had in the world—she was a ward of mine, and had about 5,000l.—she had had about 3,000l. of it, and by my recommendation, she invested it in shares, and other things, which became valueless, and she afterwards proved against my estate for it, and got nothing, but she had a good deal after I failed—they had a bill of sale on my property, and realized the whole of that bill of sale—I had given her the bill of sale, because she advanced me a sum of money.
Q. But you put it that you made unlucky investments for her? A. Yes, she lent me something like 3,000l. or 4,000l., and for part of that she had a bill of sale on my property—she was twenty-three yean of age when she lent me the money—she it married now—I believe the bill of sale realized the whole amount—it was 4,000l. altogether, she had lent it to me some three years before—she was of age, or she could not have lent it to me—I do not know what the bill of sale realized, but my property cost me 5,000l., and I never heard any more of it—I never was more grossly taken in than I have been by the defendants—I know now that several of the bills were made payable at Maude's own premises—there are three out of eight here made payable at his premises.
MR. PARRY. Q. Did this lady reside with you for some years prior to her marriage? A. Yes—she was the intimate bosom friend of my wife, and was always treated by her as a sister—Mr. Hill called on me, on the part of Mr. Maude, without my invitation—I did not expect him at all—he asked us whether he might speak to us freely—we said, "Yes," and have never divulged it to this moment—it was our custom to discount bills with Massey and Jarvis—they were bankers in the country—during the time we were bill brokers, previous to my bankruptcy, we discounted bills for them to quite 100,000l.—we deal with them as we deal with other bankers Massey and Jarvis did not oppose me at all when I was bankrupt—Mr.
Massey was my friend up to his death, and I am intimate with Mrs. Massey now—the young lady did not oppose me, nor did her husband—he is a gentleman of great eminence—I never represented to any human being that there were more partners in our business than myself and Mr. Clay—we placed this case in the hands of solicitors and counsel, and whatever they directed we have done—I believed that the statements the prisoners made to us about the partners, and about the accommodation bills, were true—if I had known that they were false, I would not have parted with my money—if Mr. Hill said anything to us about the number of partners, I do not recollect it.
GEORGE CLAY . I am in partnership with Mr. Kemp, as bill brokers and bankers, and have been so four years. I was a bankrupt in 1847—I know Maude—he had dealings with us, under the name of Covington and Co.—I recollect seeing the death of Mr. Covington in the papers—Maude came after that, and I said that I had observed the death of Mr. Covington, and asked him if it was one of their firm—he said, "Our senior partner"—I said, "Of course, it will be well for the remaining partners?"—he said, "Yes; the remaining partners will be benefited certainly"—I forget whether he mentioned the number of partners—(Mr. Kemp was present)—I asked him if they were all trade bills, as we are in the habit of asking very often of all our customers—he said that they were all bond fide trade bills; they never had any others—I do not remember that he said what they were given for—I recollect Mr. Kemp going out of town—he told Maude that he was going out of town for some weeks, and wanted to know what amount of discount he would require during his absence—Maude said that he would write—I recollect Mr. Kemp's return, on 28th Aug.—he came on that day to agree to the account, and receive the bills due to him—(bills had been delivered to him, making about 300l. altogether)—we then asked him again if they were bond fide trade bills, and he replied that they were—Mr. Kemp said, "You must have a very good business, Mr. Coving-ton" (we always addressed him as Mr. Covington) "for so many partners to live out of it"—he said, "Yes, and they do a very large sum too"—I did know him as Mr. Maude, but if I had been asked his name I do not think I should have remembered it—we agreed to let him have 140l., and I wrote him this cheque (produced), the body of which is in my writing, which is an unusual thing—he had said on one or two occasions, after Mr. Coving-ton's death, "The remaining four partners"—we afterwards obtained some information about Gane—before the money was advanced, Maude said, in my presence, that the bills generally were for lighterage, in the way of his business—there was an interview with Mr. Truefit, the solicitor, and he gave certain information—up to that time I had not known that there was not more than one person in the firm—I was not present at the interview—if I had known that Maude was the only person in the firm, I would not have advanced the money—I was present at an interview with Whitby, about 2nd Nov.—he came over by Mr. Kemp's directions, and Mr. Kemp asked him if his name was Whitby—he said, "Yes"—Mr. Kemp said, "Are you the acceptor of these bills, which we have had continually in the name of Whitby?"—he said, "I am; has Mr. Maude said something to you about it?"—Mr. Kemp said, "But you brought these bills?"—Whitby said, "No; I carefully avoided bringing my own acceptances"—I said, "You did not carefully avoid coming for the money for them, because you have generally had about two-thirds of the money put into your own hands"—when Mr. Kemp heard him confess that, he turned to me, and said, "Well, this is, the
grossest swindle that ever came under my notice"—Whitby has made a statement to me about the partners, but my memory docs not sufficiently serve me to explain.
Cross-examined. Q. This cheque is Kemp, Clay, and Co., when did you start the Co? A. At the time I went into partnership with Mr. Kemp, and we thought that we might eventually have a "Co."—we had no particular reason for it—it was done by arrangement—it is no unusual thing—I can scarcely tell you what our motive was—I had been bankrupt in the panic of 1847—I did not know that Mr. Kemp had been a bankrupt till after I became his partner—I do not know whether he knew that I had been—I dare say that I felt bound to mention it—I have no doubt of it—I will not swear that I did—I do not think he ever mentioned to me that he had been bankrupt until I was fairly his partner—I knew Maude by the name of Covington more than Maude—I knew his name was Maude—I do not think he ever represented himself by any other name, but he was Covington and Co. to us.
Q. Is not his name over the door? A. I do not know that I ever saw the door—I lived opposite, but his office is up a court—I had been there two years before—I can see the gateway—I do not know that his name is there now—our object in instituting this prosecution was to punish people who came and committed fraud—I will not say that it was public justice only—our object was to get what was stolen from us—if we could have got that, I do not know whether we should have let public justice shift for herself—I believe if they had brought the money for these bills we should have given them—we could not have prosecuted if they had the bills out of our hands.
Q. On your oath, did not you institute these proceedings to get the money out of the relations of Mr. Maude? A. We took the proceedings certainly, and we should not have gone on with the prosecution if they had been paid.
MR. PARRY. Q. You and your partner would have taken the money if it had been offered? A. I rather think we should—we have placed these matters entirely in the hands of our solicitor from the beginning, who has taken the steps which he has taken by the advice of counsel.
TIMOTHY SURR . I am one of the firm of Burr and Gribble, solicitors, in the city. I knew Mr. Covington, sen.—I am one of his executors—he died in March or April this year—I knew Maude, carrying on the business of a lighterman—I have known him since I think it was about 1851, when he joined Mr. Covington, sen., as a partner in this very trade—Mr. Covington, sen., was not a partner in the house at the time of his death—Mr. Maude certainly had no partner to my knowledge in Aug. this year.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there a member of the Covington family whose name was allowed to remain in the firm? A. Not in. the firm, but to be used as a licensed lighterman, which the regulations of the Lightermen's Company require—his name remained in the business, and he took out the license—one son first, and another afterwards—the first son was a partner and the second was not—it was known to me that the establishment was carried on the name of Covington and Co.—I made the arrangement in receiving Mr. Maude into the business—the old firm was continued—I acted for the Messrs. Covington, and Mr. Bower, of Chancery-lane, acted for Mr. Maude—before entering into the arrangements I inquired about Mr. Maude of several bankers, and among others of Messrs. Masterman—I believe he had been in their house—I ascertained the respectability of his friends and
connections—he paid a sum of money to come into the business, and for the purpose of doing so mortgaged a reversionary interest under his father's settlement, to Mr. Covington, who therefore left his money in the firm—that represented nearly 2,000l., and he brought in in actual cash 500l.—I only know from others the state of the accounts now—up to a certain point I had the highest opinion of him—I know of other moneys which he has brought in—his father and his family have advanced money to the firm—I know that on this very reversionary interest 700l. or 800l. further was raised, and went to pay off some of the bills—Mr. Covington facilitated that—that was not on the presumption that it would pay both—I got some other security substituted for it from Mr. Maude, which I now hold, and allowed him to have the deeds—it is a business requiring a very active life on the part of the proprietors—the Covingtons are a very old established firm, and unless I had been sure that all was right I would not have done it.
MR. PARRY. Q. Did you know Whitby as the clerk of Maude? A. Yes.
MR. BALLANTINE. Q. Whitby was Covington's old clerk? A. He was clerk to the old gentleman, and had his confidence—I heard of Maude's marriage after the partnership.
MR. PARRY. Q. Were you aware that Whitby accepted bills for Mr. Maude? A. I never heard it till these proceedings had been taken—old Mr. Covington retired from the firm in 1851 I think.
COURT. Q. When did Mr. Covington, jun., retire? A. He went out in 1853 to Australia—since 1853 there has been no other partner but Maude—I do not think the dissolution with Covington was gazetted, but I am not sure—there was a deed of dissolution.
JURY to T. R. KEMP. Q. Were the bills left with your for inquiry? A. No—the interest charged varied from time to time, according to the market—the bills mentioned in the conversation of 28th Aug. were charged 11/4 per cent, commission, and 7 per cent, interest—at present bankers are charging 10 per cent.
COURT. Q. 7l. per cent. per annum? A. Yes—it is not customary with a banking account to have bills left for inspection—if there was no banking account it would be the exception, not the rule—we relied on Covington and Co., and therefore did not ask for the bills to be left—when we charge commission so much per cent it is not per annum, but so much on each transaction.
(The defendants received excellent characters.)
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BROWNE conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN BROCK . I am the wife of William Brock, a carpenter; he is away at work all day—I know the prisoner, a sister of her is lodged with us for four months—the prisoner came to our house on a Tuesday, six weeks before the day that the robbery was committed, and stayed in the house all the time with her sister till 13th Nov., on which day I left home at a little
past 11 o'clock—the prisoner was then in the front room, and her sister was out—there was nobody else in the house, my husband was at work—I fastened the back door and the street door—I left the articles in question in the back bed room—I had used them that morning, and put them there ten minutes before I went out—when I returned the prisoner was not there, and I found the back door wide open, and the door into the back sitting room also—I went up stairs, and found all the doors open—I looked into the cupboard, and missed a dirty shirt, a pair of sheets, some pillow cases, and a bed gown, which had been all lying together—I gave information, went with a policeman to Mr. Phillip's, a pawnbroker, at Stratford, and found the things there.
GEORGE SMITH . I am assistant to Mr. Phillips, a pawnbroker, of Stratford. On 13th Nov., between 2 and 4 o'clock, the prisoner came and pawned these things—I am sure she is the person—I afterwards gave them up to Benton the constable.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
GUILTY . Aged 48.— Confined Four Months .
MESSRS. COOPER and MEW conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY EVANE . I am a hair dresser, of London, and live at Wanstead. On Sunday, 18th Nov., from a quarter to half past 10 o'clock, I had three tame goats turned out in the forest—I received information about half past 10 o'clock, went into the forest, and found the prisoner taking a sack from round the goat's neck—it was about 400 yards from where I had last seen it safe—I could see the prisoner taking it off, through the bushes before I got up—I saw him move—the goat was trying to get away—I said, "Halloo, my man! what are you doing with that goat?"—he said, "It is my goat, I brought it from my uncle's at Woodford Bridge, and am taking it to Lea Bridge"—I told him I would soon settle that, and would take him to the station house—I took him there, we had to wait some time for a policeman to arrive—he began crying, called me on one side, and said, "Mr. Evans, I stole the goat; pray forgive me, for the sake of my mother"—I found that his mother had been dead some time previously—I am sure it was my goat—it was worth 30s.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. How long previously had you received information which led you to go to the forest? A. Three or four minutes—I ran all the way—I am sure he said, "It is my goat"—I have been examined before the Magistrate—on my oath, he distinctly said, "It is my goat"—I have said so before to-day—he said either "stole," or "took"—he might have said "took"—I understood from his father that it was twelve months since his mother died, but I understand since that it is only twelve weeks—I went to the father—I have lost a good deal of property, and I went to see if I could find it—I found no property of mine there—I did not say that I would not prosecute the son unless I was obliged, for I did not think he intended to steal it—I went to the father—I did not say
that I did not believe the son meant to steal the goat, but that he merely took it into the forest by way of a lark, nothing of the kind.
COURT. Q. What did you say to the father? A. I said that I hoped the Magistrate would decide it under the new Act, and then I intended to recommend him to mercy—I gave no reason.
GEORGE PURKISS . I am fourteen years old, and live at Wanstead. On Sunday morning, 18th Oct., I was in the forest on my way to church, and saw the prisoner leading a goat by the side of the path, with a sack tied round his neck, and a handkerchief tied to the sack—I knew the goat to be Mr. Evans's, and said to the prisoner, "That is Mr. Evans's goat, what are you going to do with it?"—he said that it was his goat, he had brought it from Woodford. Bridge, from his uncle's, and was going to take it to Lea Bridge—another boy, Benjamin Gouldstone, then came up and said to me, "That is Mr. Evans's goat," and called me on one side and said, "You stop here, and I will go and tell Mr. Evans"—he left, and the goat went into the forest, and the prisoner followed it—he had not let it go at liberty, he let go of it, and caught it again, and then Mr. Evans came up and caught hold of the prisoner, and took him to the station—I did not hear what took place between Mr. Evans and the prisoner.
BENJAMIN GOLDSTONE . I live at Wanstead. I was in Epping Forest, going up to the Eagle, and saw the prisoner there with a goat, and a sack and handkerchief tied to its neck—I said, "That is Mr. Evans's goat"—he said, "It is not Mr. Evans's, for I brought it from my uncle's at Woodford Bridge, and am going to take it to Lea Bridge"—I told Purkiss to stop while I went to Mr. Evans's—he came back with me, and I saw the prisoner given into custody.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read, as follows: "It was not my intention to steal the goat; I merely tied the collar round the goat's neck, intending when I got further away from the first witness, to let him loose.")
(The prisoner received a good character.)
NOT GUILTY .
Before Russell Gurney, Esq.
MR. M'ENTEER conducted the Prosecution.
MARY HYDE . I keep the Royal Oak beer shop, at Dagenham. On 29th Oct., the prisoner came to my house—there was a man with him—they had a pot of beer—I gave change for sixpence—they next had twopenny-worth of bread and cheese; then some bread and cheese and some gin and another pot of beer—they then had a pot of beer, and the prisoner gave me a half crown—I gave him 2s. 2d. change—I put the half crown in my pocket—I had no other half crown there—the prisoner and the other man went away—I looked at the half crown and found it was bad—I marked it and sent for a policeman—I had not received any other half crown, nor any other money.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. How many pots of beer did they have? A. Three, and twice bread and cheese—they might be three quarters of an hour in my house.
MARY SHEEN . I live as servant at the Robin Hood, at Barking. On 29th Oct., some parties came to the house—the prisoner was one—he called for half an ounce of tobacco, and gave me a half crown—I put it in the till—there was no other half crown there—in the evening I went and looked in the till, and found it was bad—a policeman came in the
evening, and I gave him the half crown—I am quite satisfied the prisoner gave it me.
Cross-examined. Q. It was one of three men who gave it you? A. It was the prisoner gave it to me—they had two pots of beer, which the other men paid for—the prisoner had the tobacco—it was put in a pipe, and some of them smoked it—they staid about twenty minutes altogether—our house is about half a mile from Dagenham.
JAMES BLAINE (policeman, K, 67). On 29th Oct., I went to Mrs. Hyde's, and she gave me this half crown—I went from there to the Robin Hood beer shop, and got this other half crown from the last witness—I went to Barking and apprehended the prisoner, and found 7s. 2d. good money on him.
Cross-examined. Q. You took him at the house of Mrs. Tonbridge, his mother-in-law? A. Yes; she keeps a small general shop—he gave his right name and address—I asked him if he had been to these two shops, and he said he had—he told me before he went out that Mrs. Tonbridge had changed half a sovereign for him—I do not remember what Mrs. Ton-bridge said.
(The prisoner received a good character.)
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RYLAND conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH COX . I am groom to Mr. William Mason, of Chingford. He was absent on 21st Oct.—Ramsey was his gardener, and Wood was a labouring man under him—on that day I saw Ramsey leave Mr. Mason's premises with a basket full of something—Wood left the premises with him, and he had a bag with something in it—I gave information to a policeman, and he brought them both back in custody—Ramsey had the basket, and Wood the bag—there were cabbages and apples in the basket, and potatoes in the bag—there were apples and potatoes on my master's premises.
Cross-examined by MR. HORRY. Q. How long have you been with Mr. Mason? A. Two years—I do not know whether Ramsey came to my master from Mr. Dimsdale, the banker—the garden that Ramsey has to attend to is about an acre—there are all sorts of things growing there—he has to do what he thinks fit—Mr. Mason is not here—whether he gave him authority to take these I do not know—it was my doing to give them into custody.
THOMAS HOLDERN (policeman, N 346). I received information from the last witness, and apprehended the prisoners at 7 o'clock in the morning—I saw them come off Mr. Mason's premises—Ramsey was carrying a basket nearly full of apples, and Wood had a bag with about a peck of potatoes in it—I stopped them, and asked what they had—Ramsey said, "I have. got some vegetables that my mistress gave me"—Wood said Ramsey gave him the potatoes in the bag—I took them to Mr. Mason's house, and found they had no right to take them—there were two cabbages at the top of the basket.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you tell me whether Ramsey had to manage
the garden? A. That was all he had to do—if he wanted to change potatoes for seed he might do it, but he would have to come in first if he wanted to take anything—if he asked my mother for potatoes or anything on Saturday evening, she would give them to him.
COURT. Q. Is your father abroad? A. Yes; my mother is at home.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RYLAND conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH COX I am groom to Mr. William Mason. The prisoner was his gardener—in October there were a number of deal boards brought to our premises—they were put under a shed and counted in my presence—there were 105—some time afterwards there was some inquiry made and they were counted again, there were then 103—on 11th Oct. I saw the prisoner leave the premises with a piece of board under his arm—it was a part of the 105—we had no other description of boards on the premises—on the following night, I saw him with a box and three other boards of the same description as the other, but they were not the length that they had been, they were sawn into two pieces—I gave information to the police—I afterwards saw some boards that the policeman had—I believe them to be some of the boards off my master's premises—I saw this box—there is a stain inside it—I know it to be my master's.
Cross-examined by MR. HORRY. Q. Where were you when he took the boards? A. In the shed, he came close by the shed—he did not see me nor speak to me—he went in the direction of his own house with the boards—I saw him go outside the gate—on the following night he had three boards, they were sawn in lengths about 4-ft. long—I was in the shed watching—I was not expecting him to steal boards—I did not know what he might take—it was not day light—it was dusk, a few minutes before 6 o'clock in the evening.
THOMAS HOLDEN (policeman, N 346). I searched the prisoner's lodging on Sunday, 21st Oct—he was then in custody in the back bed room, the door of which was locked—I found there four pieces of deal board and about eight bushels of potatoes, and in the front bed room about four bushels more—I found this box in a shed behind his cottage—the door of the shed was locked also—there are some stains in the bottom of the box—it was shown to Cox and he recognised it, and claimed it as his master's—the boards were shown to Cox—they had been recently sawn—these two (fitting the ends together) have been one board, and these two also—this is the box—it was sent from some foreign part with some preserves in it, the jars broke and made these stains in the bottom.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner ever make a rabbit hutch for you? A. Yes, once, that is about three months ago—I have only got two rabbits—I asked him to make me another hutch, and he said he would take down a box to make it of.
COURT. Q. Did you tell him to make it out of the boards? A. No, the boards were ordered not to be touched.
GUILTY . Aged 46.— Confined Three Months .
MR. BROWN conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM SALES . I am a labourer, and live in China-row, Stratford. On Monday night, 12th Nov., I was at home—I went to bed about 12 o'clock—I took my boots off about 11 o'clock and placed them close by the side of the fender in the back room—when I got up about 6 o'clock the next morning, the boots were not there—I went into the back kitchen, the door was standing wide open—a bird cage had been taken from the back room and hung up behind one of the doors, and the bird had been taken out and killed—I saw my boots at the station on Tuesday morning—it was the pair that I had lost.
ESTHER SALES . I am the wife of the last witness. I remember Monday night, 12th Nov.—I went out the last thing at 12 o'clock and bolted the back door—in the morning the latch was broken and the door had been forced open in three places.
CHARLES PEARCE (policeman, K 430). I was on duty at Stratford, on the morning of 13th Nov., about 3 o'clock—I heard a dog bark at the back of William Sales' premises—I went up Mr. Ansford's yard, which is near the back of Sales' premises—I saw the prisoner in Mr. Ansford's premises, con-cealed behind a van, and this bundle was close against him—I asked him to come out and he would not—I dodged him round the van till South came up, and we secured him and took him to the station—South took charge of the bundle—I went the same morning to Sales's premises and examined the back door, and compared the marks on it with this jemmy—they corres-ponded exactly.
Prisoner. I did not see the bundle. Witness. It was lying close to you.
WILLIAM SOUTH (policeman, K 233). On the morning of 13th Nov., I was on duty near China-row—I saw the last witness in the yard near the van—that yard is adjoining the premises of Sales—I saw the prisoner concealed behind the van—the other officer could not get near him—as he went on one side the prisoner went on the other—I went on one side and we secured him—I saw this bundle and took it to the station—it contained these articles, amongst them this pair of boots, which I afterwards showed to Sales—I returned to the yard and found this jemmy, where the prisoner had been standing—I examined the prosecutor's premises and there were marks on the door post and on the door, and the marks exactly corresponded with the sharp point of this jemmy—the shed appeared as if some one had been over—there was wet dirt on it.
Prisoner's Defence. I went to Whitechapel and stopped in a coffee shop; I was returning and went into this yard; the policeman said he would lock me up and I tried to get away from him; the other officer came and they took me; they afterwards took this bundle; I never saw it before; I had been at work all day.
GUILTY .† Aged 29.— Confined Twelve Months .
(There were two other indictments against the prisoner for robberies committed on the same night.)
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BROWN conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM M'CLYMONT (policeman, K 211). I am stationed at Barking—on Sunday morning, 4th Nov., I was on. duty in the Barking-road, and saw the prisoners about a quarter past 2 o'clock, coming towards Barking—Lines had a bag on his back—I said, "Halloo! what have you got here?"—he never spoke, but dropped the bag, and bolted right off—I then caught Powell, and took him to the station—I took the bag with me—I examined the bag, and found in it the carcase of a sheep, all but the head, neck, and skin—it was still warm—the head, neck, and skin, and entrails, were wanting—I examined Powell's person—his hands were all over blood, and his trowsers and boots had blood on them—they were left on him—we had no others to put on him—I went with sergeant Milsted to Frederick Lines's house—I did not see him there—I went first about 5 o'clock the same Sunday afternoon—I did not see him—I went again about 8 o'clock in the evening, and found him in the house then—it is his own house—his dress was then different altogether—I did not apprehend him on the Sunday night—I was present on the Tuesday when we went before the Magistrate—I saw Milsted produce a shirt and a razor—I did not take Lines on the Sunday evening—I was not positive of him—he had got different clothes on, and was shaved and dressed—we took him on Monday, I think about half past 8 o'clock, in his mother in law's house, close on his own home—on the Tuesday, when Lines was there, I saw Milsted produce a shirt and a razor—I think none of the Magistrates were present—I think there was nobody but the clerk there—it was before the Magistrates took their seats—I could see little marks of blood on the shirt—when they were laid down on the table, Lines said, "That is the shirt that I had on on Saturday, but the razor I cut the sheep's throat with, I threw away"—when I apprehended Lines, he was in the very same dress he had on when he had the sheep—I was sure he was the man when I saw him on the Monday night in his working clothes.
Cross-examined by MR. M'ENTEER. Q. You saw the two prisoners walking on the road, and took Powell into custody? A. Yes—I have not got the clothes here—I have been in the police eighteen months in London, and three years in the country, before I came here—I have not kept the clothes that were marked with blood—he had no other clothes to put on.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. Have you known Lines all his life? A. No—I have known him about twelve months—I knew him so well that I could not make any mistake about him—I did not take him on Sunday night, because I was not positive of him on Sunday night—I became positive on Monday—from, the time I saw him till Monday I was not positive about him—I was almost positive on Sunday—I said to Lines that the man I saw had a smock frock on and a cap—that was a lie—I was almost sure he was the man.
Q. What was the reason of your telling him that? A. I told Lines on the Sunday night, "You had a smock frock on, had you not?"—he said, "No, I never had one in my life"—I said that to prevent his running away—I told him that for a blind.
Q. Do you think it your duty to go to a man to tell him a deliberate lie? A. No—I have been reported to the Commissioners for my gross misconduct in this case—I have not been reproved by Mr. Cotton—I cannot say whether he complained of Milsted—I cannot say whether it is true or not—I cannot recollect whether I told Milsted that the man I saw with the sheep had a smock frock on and a cap, but the night was so dark I would not be positive.
Q. Will you swear that you did not say to Milsted, "I think lines had a smock frock and cap on, but the night was so dark I would not be positive?" A. Not that I am aware of—I would not swear I did not say it—I cannot recollect that I said it—I am not sure that I know Mrs. Lazell—I know the mother in law of this poor fellow—I went to her on Sunday afternoon—I did not ask her where the smock was that Lines were—Lines was there, and I asked him—I went when Lines was absent—I did not then ask his mother in law for the smock that Lines wore—I will swear I did not—I told Lines that he had a smock frock on—I and Milsted went together to the mother in law.
Q. Did not she tell you, in answer to your question, about the smock, that her son never wore a smock frock? A. He told me himself so—something was said about a drop of blood, and his wife said he had out his chin in shaving that morning—that was said on the Monday night, I think—the razor was produced to me—his wife said he had out himself with the razor—this was after he was in custody—I opened it—I did not take a bit of red hair from it, and burn it in the candle—Milsted did not, that I am aware of—I did not find a bit of red hair on the trowsers, and burn it in the candle—I still went about the. smock on Monday evening, after I had taken him into custody—I took him into custody—I went, after he was in custody, to the house—I got a pair of trowsers and a shirt—I do not know whether he is a gravel sifter—the wife offered to fetch the prisoner for me—I did not say, "I want the smock that he wore in the Broadway"—Milsted did not say so that I am aware of—not in my presence—Mrs. Lines did not in my presence ask her mother whether she had ever seen him with a smock in her life; and she did not in reply say that she never saw him in a smock in her life; not in my presence—on the Monday after he was taken, his wife said, "There is the jacket that he had on"—I have not brought that jacket have—I examined it, and laid it down again—I did not then say, "That won't do; I want the smock he wore in the Broadway"—I told him he had got a smock frock on—I remember taking the jacket, examining it, and putting it down—that was after he was in custody—I did not say, "That is not it, I want the smock that he had on in the Broadway"—I remember taking the jacket, examining it, and putting it down—that was after he was in custody—I did not then say, "That is not it; I want the smock that he had on in the Broadway"—in answer to that, I did not hear Mrs. Lines say, "If you think he wears a smock, search the house; you are welcome to do so; he has not worn a smock since I have known him."
COURT. Q. Do you mean to pledge your oath that that was not said in your hearing? A. Not that I am aware of, not in my hearing—I did not hear it.
MR. BROWN. Q. You apprehended him on the Monday night? A. Yes; the jacket was on his back on Monday night—it was on Sunday night his wife produced the jacket—he was not in custody then—after he was in custody, I deny having alluded to the smock frock—all this conversation occurred on Sunday night—it was on the Sunday that I examined the jacket—when it was produced, I did not say to the wife, "That is not it; I want the smock that he wore in the Broadway"—on the Sunday night, I did allude to the smock—lines was present, and I told him he had a smock frock on—he said that he never wore a smock frock in his life—I mentioned about the smock frock to blind him, that he might not run away.
Q. You told my friend that his wife said he had cut his chin with a razor? A. Yes; that was after he was in custody upon this charge—I have been examined more than once.
MR. PARRY. Q. Now, I ask you again, and I warn you once more, you have been examined before the Magistrate, did you not on the Monday say to his wife and mother in law, that he had a smock on? A. No, I did not—I did not inquire of his wife where the smock was.
(The witness's deposition being read, stated: "He was dressed just as he is now; he had not a smock frock on; I have said he had a smock frock on; I think I said so on Monday; I cannot recollect to whom I said so; I said so because he should not bolt; I inquired of his wife where the smock was, that was a blind; why I did not take him on Sunday was, because he was not in the same dress.")
Q. You swore before the Magistrates that you inquired of the wife about the smock, and it was only as a blind? A. I must have made a mistake about that—I did not made a mistake before the Magistrate—I spoke the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God.
COURT. Q. You swore here to-day that, before the Magistrate came in, Lines said, "That is the shirt I had on on Saturday, but the razor I cut the sheep's throat with I threw away;" why did you not mention to the Magistrates that he had confessed the crime? A. Sergeant Milsted did—I am not sure whether that was mentioned in the prisoner's presence.
Q. Do you mean to say, or do you not, that Milsted mentioned that conversation? A. Well, I think he did—that is the reason I give for not having mentioned it—I might have told Milsted that I thought Lines had a smock frock on, and a cap, but the night was so dark I could not be positive—I might have said it, but I do not recollect it.
Q. But how could you say so if it was not true? A. I do not recollect that I said it.
HENRY MILSTED (police sergeant, 12 K). I received information on the morning of 4th Nov. with respect to a robbery—in consequence of that information I went to James Carter, the marsh man of the prosecutor—I received information about 9 o'clock, and I went down to Carter about 1 o'clock—I saw the remains of a sheep and the skin—I saw the head, neck, and breast, and the pluck was hanging up in the shed—I took the skin away and brought it to the station at Barking—I saw the car case of a sheep brought to the station by the other witness—that was brought in about half past 2 o'clock in the morning, with Powell—I compared that skin with the car case—it corresponded where the skin was cut from the leg, and some pieces of flesh left on the skin corresponded with vacant places in the carcase—the throat was cut, as if it had been cut with a razor, right across—it was not stuck—I was present when Powell was brought in—he had a black coat on—he had some blood on his trowsers and shoes, and his hands were very bloody—I apprehended Lines on the Monday evening, the next day—he had on a sleeve waistcoat, a pair of fustian trowsers, a cap, and high shoes—the last witness was with me—he identified him as he came to his mother in law's house—I told him he was charged with being concerned with Powell in stealing a sheep—he said he knew nothing about it—I told him that at the house, before I brought him out, and he said he knew nothing of it; and I told him again at the station—I produce a shirt and a razor—they were handed over in the prisoner's house by the mother in law or the wife, I will not be positive, as the shirt he wore on Saturday—he was then in custody—there is some blood on the shirt—this razor has some blood on it—I was present on Tuesday, 6th Nov., before the Magistrates—I placed this shirt and razor on the table—the Magistrates were not present then—the other witness was present—Lines said, "That is the shirt I had on, but
that is not the razor; the razor I threw Away after I cut the sheep's throat."
Cross-examined. Q. You do not profess to have seen Lines? A. No—I thought at one time he had a smock frock on that night—M'Clymont said he thought he had a smock frock on, but it was so dark he would not be positive—I went to Mrs. Lazell's on Monday night—I did not say, "We are a deal of trouble to you, Mrs. Lazell, but we must do our duty"—I said, "We are come to see you again, mother"—I said, "Is Fred at home?"—I did not say, "I want to ask him a question"—I said I wanted to see him.
Q. Did you say anything about a smock? A. I said, "Does Slimey, Walker wear a smock frock, and cap?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "What character does he bear?"—and she said, "A very bad one"—I said, "I want to see Fred, to ask him who it was that joined him, after he left Powell, on Saturday night"—I did not say, "I can put 5s. in his way"—she said, "Do you think Fred, knows anything about it?"—I said, "I do not"—she said, "If I thought he did, I would give him a few shillings that he should go away"—I did not say, "I know very well that be does not wear a smock; I am sorry I came here to trouble you, I never saw him with one; I don't believe he wears one"—I thought then that he had a smock from what the witness had told me—I recollect M'Clymont taking a pair of trowsers up, but I do not remember a jacket—I was present when the wife produced a jacket, and said, "This is the jacket he wears"—I think that was on the Sunday night—I remember a jacket and a pair of trowsers.
Q. Do you remember the jacket being produced, and the observation made, "Here is the jacket he wears;" and did not M'Clymont say, "That is not it, I want the smock that he wore in the Broadway"? A. That was the substance of what he said.
Q. Did not Mrs. Lines reply, "If you think he wore a smock, search the house, you are welcome to do so; be has never worn a smock since I have known him"? A. She said we were welcome to search the house—she said, "If you want the smock you may search the house"—I declined searching the house, and then the woman produced the shirt and razor—lines stood up, and M'Clymont said, "I want the smock"—that was on Sunday night—I was reprimanded by Mr. Cotton for asking the prisoner a question after he was in custody—I was not reprimanded for telling falsehoods, but for going to the mother and making a false statement—I merely said I wanted to see Fred, I wanted to ask him a question, and instead of that I wanted to take him into custody.
Q. Did not Mr. Cotton ask you why you had interfered in the way you did; and did you not say, "I did it to endeavour to get the case up"? A. I really did not.
JAMES CARTER . I am a marshman, and live at Wall's-end, East Ham. I have charge of Mr. Joseph Forsbrey's sheep in the marshes, near Barking-road—they are South Downs—I saw them all safe about 3 o'clock in the afternoon on Saturday, 3rd Nov.—I had twelve in that place—I received information respecting the loss of a sheep about half past 7 o'clock the next morning—I went in the marsh and found a sheep had been killed—I took the skin and the head—the hind quarters and shoulders were gone—I saw them afterwards at the station—they belonged to the same sheep—it was butchered very badly, the throat was cut across.
between 10 and 11 o'clock—they had a pint of beer together and left just before 11 o'clock.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Do you know that Powell lives in that neighborhood, and is in the habit of going to your house? A. Not in the habit of it—I have seen him.
Cross-examined by MR. PARRY. Q. This was on Saturday night; had you many customers? A. Not at that time—we had on 3rd Nov.
MR. RIBTON to WILLIAM M'CLYMONT. Q. Was the bag bloody? A. I did not see any blood on the bag.
MR. RIBTON to HENRY MILSTED. Q. What distance is it from the field to where these men were stopped with the sheep? A. About a mile and a half.
COURT. Q. In your deposition you did not state that Powell had any blood on his trowsers or hands? A. I stated it, and the Magistrate said M'Clymont had stated that—I said that his hands appeared as if they had been dipped in blood.—the clerk was looking at his papers—I do not think he heard the statement that Lines made—Lines said, "That is the shirt I wore on the Saturday night, but that is not the razor; I threw the razor away after I cut the sheep's throat."
(Lines received a good character.)
POWELL— GUILTY . Aged 48.— Confined Six Months .
LINES— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
JOHN WALKER . On 15th Nov., about 6 o'clock in the evening, I was at New Charlton, in the Manor Way, acting as watchman to Mr. Smith's premises—he is a contractor, and there is timber and wood on his premises—I saw the prisoner coming from the premises, with a plank on his shoulder, and I was going towards them—I knew him before, and he knew that I was the watchman—it was a foggy night, and he could not see me before he came near me—he could not see five yards before him—I said, "Halloo, what have you got there?"—he said, "I am going to Mr. Fuller's, the coal merchant's, and have got 6d. to take this there"—I followed him some distance—he put it down, and said, "Let us go and have some beer; it does not come from your place"—I refused, and detained it.
Prisoner. I said that I picked it up. Witness. You did not.
JOHN SHARPE . I am in Mr. Wardell's employment; he keeps a sawing machine at Woolwich. On 18th Nov., in the afternoon, I saw some deal planks safe on his wharf, at half past 4 o'clock—the pile of planks was near the river, near Charlton pier, eighteen or twenty yards from the shore—I missed one of them next morning—I have seen the plank taken from the prisoner, and believe it to be the one—it had "3" on it, which means third quality—there was no appearance of its having been in the water—it was quite dry.
Prisoner. It was wet when I picked it up.
on some planks—I have seen the plank the policeman had—it is one of those I marked.
JAKES WESTBROOK (policeman, R 114). I went after the prisoner, and found him at a beer shop at Charlton—Sharpe pointed him out to me—he said, "Why, that deal has been lying on our ash heap for the last six weeks"?—he said at the station that be had found it—it had no appearance of having been in the water, because there are pencil marks on it, which, would not have been visible—I received it from Walker.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read, as follows: "I picked up the plank on the shore.")
Prisoner's Defence. I picked it up in the water.
GUILTY .** Aged 52.— Confined Six Months .
Before Russell Gurney, Esq.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 37.— Confined Nine Months .
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Nine Months .
PLEADED GUILTY .* Aged 30.— Confined Twelve Months .
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
SAMUEL HANCOCK . I am a sawyer, in the Royal Arsenal, at Woolwich. On Saturday night, 20th Oct., I was in the Bugle Horn, at Charlton—there was a crowd in front of the bar, and in passing through the crowd I felt something at my waistcoat pocket—I turned, and saw the prisoner jerk my watch from my waistcoat pocket—I saw it in his hand—I could not get hold of that hand that had the watch—he jerked it over the crowd, and said, "Over, over," and I saw him pass the watch into some man's hand, but who it was I could not say—Mr. Donnelly was with me at the time, and with his assistance I took the prisoner outside—Donnelly told him, if he would give up the watch, he would let him go—the prisoner said he wished his friend was there—the officer came up and took him.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. How long had you been in the fair that evening? A. I cannot say exactly—this was about 16 o'clock—I had left work at 1 o'clock—we always leave at 1 o'clock on Saturday—after dinner I went to the fair—Donnolly did not go with me, I met him at the fair—I went to the fair alone—I met Donnolly about 7 o'clock—he staid with me all the time till I lost my watch—we were walking about the fair during the evening—the Bugle Horn was the first public house we went into that evening, but we went into a booth—we might be in there half an hour—I saw several friends—we had very little there—we had some ale and a glass of gin—we paid for it in our turns—we were there drinking and enjoying ourselves—we went in at the side door of the public house, and got round to the front of the bar—I said, "We can't get anything here, we will go out"—we were struggling to get out, and I felt the tug, and lost my watch—Donnolly was behind me—the person who stole my watch was like behind me—I felt some hand, and I saw the prisoner with the watch in hut hand—I laid hold of the prisoner before he
had given the watch away—Donnolly assisted me in laying hold of him—he saw the watch passed over, and assisted me in holding the prisoner—I did not, before the watch passed away, lay hold of the prisoner's hand—I could not—I had hold of his coat, his left shoulder—I did not take his hand, and say there was something hard in it—I charged him with stealing my watch—he denied that he was the person who had taken it—before he was taken out of the crowd he said that he did not take it—I was examined twice before the Magistrate—I have never said that I did not see the face of the person who took it—I have been paying a visit to the relatives of the prisoner, by their request—the policeman introduced them to me outside the door of the police court, and said, "This is the sister and mother"—it was in Green End, near the Elephant and Castle—I was just coming out of the police court, and met the policeman there—I did not tell the sister that if she would give me the value of the watch I would not prosecute him—I said, "All that I want is my watch"—the sister wished me not to appear against him, not to prosecute him—I said, "It will do me no good whether I prosecute him or transport him; all I want is my watch or the value of my watch "—she would not accede to it—she said she believed her brother was innocent—I went afterwards to the brother's house, not to the sister's—I had a note from the sister, requesting me to go—I did not, on that occasion, offer to take 3l. or three guineas, and forego the prosecution—they offered me 2l. and a written note if I would not do it—I said I could not do it—I went there to answer the request of the note.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Have you got the note here? A. Yes—this is it—I had not been drinking that evening—I had just come out from my work.
ROBERT DONNOLLY . I am a porter in the Royal Arsenal. I went with the last witness that evening to the Bugle Horn, at Charlton—I saw what passed when he was endeavouring to get through the crowd—I saw the watch in the prisoner's hand—he passed it to some other person—when he had it in his hand, he said, "Over, over," and the word was passed all round by eight or nine different voices—we got him out, and I told him if he would give up the watch we would let him go—he said he wished his friend was there.
Cross-examined. Q. When you saw the watch in his hand, you laid hold of his arm? A. Yes—I do not know that I laid hold of his hand—to the best of my belief, I did not—I did not open his hand, and find that he had only a heavy ring—I do not know whether he had a ring or not—I had been with the prosecutor all the evening, for the last two hours perhaps—I believe the prisoner, on being taken, said that he was innocent, and that we were mistaken, and he was not the man—there was a crowd, but I believe amongst their own party.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Was it after he said that he was innocent that he said he wished his friend was there? A. Yes, I believe it was.
JOSEPH BASTABLE (policeman, R 365). On Saturday night, 20th Oct., I was on duty at Charlton—the prisoner was given into custody by the two last witnesses, for stealing the watch—I searched him, and found a half sovereign and some silver—he gave his name and address, and I found them correct—he said that he was not guilty.
(The prisoner's sister and mother gave him a good character.)
GUILTY . Aged 21.— Confined Six Months .
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
MR. BODKIN conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BLUNDELL (policeman, R 80). On 9th Nov. I was on duty at the gate of the Arsenal, at Woolwich—about half past 1 o'clock the men were coming out to go to their dinner—the prisoner came as one of the men employed there to the gate at that time—the inspector desired the prisoner to go into the office to be searched—I took him in, searched him, and found on him this gun metal, about 71/2 lbs., one piece in each pocket—I asked him where he got it, he made no reply—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was the inspector on duty there all day? A. Yes—the men come from breakfast at a quarter before 9 o'clock—the inspector is there, and sees the men; it is his duty to do so—there was no one present when I searched the prisoner—after the prisoner was charged before the Magistrate, he said that on returning from breakfast he found these pieces of lead in Powis-street.
JOHN PETMAN . I am foreman in the Royal Arsenal. The prisoner has been employed there about nine months—these pieces are what we term gun metal—they are of the same description and quality as the gun metal used in the Arsenal—the prisoner in his employ would have access to places where this was kept—the value of this is about 6s. or 7s.
Cross-examined. Q. There is no particular mark on this, except that it is the same sort of metal? A. It is the same sort—there is no mark by which I can identify it—I cannot say but that metal of this description may be used in other departments.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read, as follows: "I did not steal it at all; at half past 8 o'clock, on going from breakfast to work, I saw the two pieces of metal lying in the gutter in Powis-street; I picked them up, and put them into my pocket; I went to work in the Royal Arsenal, and kept them in my pocket; they were there when the policeman touched me; he searched and found them.")
JOHN BLUNDELL re-examined. It was on 9th Nov. that I searched the prisoner—he was taken on Friday, and was taken before the Magistrate the same day, and, to the best of my knowledge, it was on the same day he made the statement that has been read—I did not hear anything of it before he was before the Magistrate.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you swear positively that on your searching him, he did not say that he picked it up? A. He did not, he said nothing at all—I asked him where he got it—he made no reply—I am not deaf at all.
(The prisoner received a good character).
GUILTY. Aged 42.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of his good character .— Confined Six Months .
Before Russell Gurney, Esq.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN STEPHEN HARWOOD . I am a fire engine maker, and live in Prospect-place, Woolwich. On Saturday evening, 20th Oct., I was at Charlton, near the door of the Swan—I was in the act of getting something to drink—I felt as if I were touched—I put my hand to my pocket, which I had been careful of before, and my watch was gone—a policeman was
standing near—I said, "I have lost my watch;" and just at the moment a man came up with the prisoner and said, "Are you the person that has lost a watch?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "This man has got it; he did not take it; I saw a man give it him, and run away"—the policeman took the prisoner into custody, and found the watch in his pocket—it is my watch.
(There being no Count charging the prisoner with receiving, the COURT directed a verdict of NOT GUILTY .)
Before Mr. Recorder.
81. HENRY SIMPSON and HENRY MITCHELL , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Thomas Roberts, and stealing therein, l,236 yards of silk, value 187l., and other goods, value 137l., and 3l. 3s. in money, his property.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES PAY (police sergeant, P 8). On the night of 30th, and morning of 31st Oct., I was on duty in the Old Kent-road, and about a quarter to 2 o'clock, I was passing the house of Mr. Roberts, a linen draper, in Brunswick-place—I heard a noise, and went up to the shop door, looked through a crevice by the side of the door, and saw the two prisoners—Simpson was holding a candle, and Mitchell was packing up goods in bundles—I waited five minutes looking at them, and then sent for another constable—I heard Neville coming, and sent Rowbotham to him that he should not speak to me—I sent Neville to the back of the house—I heard the front door unbolted, and then heard something snap, as if it was a lucifer; a light then reappeared and was put out again almost directly—I then heard them unfastening the bar that was across the door, and in about a minute after that the door was opened slightly, and I rushed in and took Simpson into custody—while I was in the act of doing so, he made a desperate blow at me with a jemmy, but I caught his arm, and caught him by the throat with my right hand, and he did not strike me—I threw him on his back directly, and grasped his throat and arm—he said, "All right, all right, I will do nothing"—Rowbotham was close to me at that time—I saw Mitchell in the room directly I went in, but he escaped through the back of the shop—I did not know him before, only by seeing him through the crevice—I left Simpson in custody of other constables who had come up, went into the shop, and found eight large bundles tied up with shawls very loosely, with knots across—I saw Mitchell again, between five and ten minutes afterwards, he was brought by Neville round to the front of the shop—I examined the premises, and found a desk broken open at the back of the shop—I then proceeded to the first floor window, and saw that a pane of glass had been broken, by which an arm could be put in, and the window unfastened—the broken pane was close to the fastening—the shop projects in front, and the first floor window opens on to leads—I took this small crow bar (produced), from Simpson's hand, and in the shop leading to the back premises, I found this life preserver (produced)—Mitchell must have gone that way—I took the prisoners to the station, searched them, and found on Simpson, six silver spoons, one electro plated spoon, one fork, a silver knife rest, 3 skeleton keys, 3l. odd in silver, and copper, and a quantity of receipt and postage stamps—I found on Mitchell, a silver fruit knife,
a pocket book, a pair of spectacles, a street door key, and 41/2 d. in copper—I called up the prosecutor, and he came down stairs.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. What kind of a crevice was this that you were looking through; was it between the door and the frame work, or was it a hole made by the people inside? A. It was a hole broken by the side of the door and the shutters—it was nearly as large as my finger—it was not recently made, but a chink between the shutter and the frame work—I had never seen the prisoners before to my knowledge.
DANIEL ROWBOTHAM (policeman, A 489). On 31st Oct. I was with the last witness, and observed what he has described passing in Mr. Roberta's shop—I went for assistance, and Neville came up—after watching still longer, the door opened, and sergeant Pay went in and took Simpson into custody; I followed him, and Mitchell stepped out at the back of the shop—I passed through the shop in search of him, I could not find him, and returned through the shop—Neville then brought Mitchell round to the front.
Simpson Q. Did not you say that I struck you on the arm in striking at the sergeant? A. No—I did not take the crow bar out of your hand—there was no light, and I could not see what you did.
THOMAS NEVILLE (policeman, P 363). On the morning of 31st Oct., I was in the Kent-road—Rowbotham came to me, and in consequence of something he said, I went to Mr. Roberta's shop—I received directions from sergeant Pay, went to the back of the premises, got over the gardens to within two gardens of Mr. Roberta's, and as I stood on a wall I saw Mitchell coming from the back of Mr. Roberts's house, getting over the fence from the yard into somebody else's garden—I was about thirty yards from Mr. Roberts's garden—there were two gardens between—I followed him over several gardens, and took him without losing sight of him—he said nothing, but tried to escape, and was tustling for a few minutes—I sprang my rattle, and the parties got up, and let me into the street—it was about two o'clock.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you say anything to him when you took him? A. No, I laid hold of him, and conveyed him to Mr. Roberts's house, but said nothing to him about the robbery—he was quite sober—he was near upon fifty yards from Mr. Roberta's when I laid hands on him—he had got over several gardens—I do not know how many yards there are in a mile—I suppose I am twenty yards from the other end of the Court—I did not search him till I got to the station, I then took from him a small knife, a door key, and some halfpence—the knife was in his waistcoat pocket, he gave me no account of it—the charge of robbery was made against him in my hearing, he said nothing.
THOMAS ROBERTS . I am a linen draper, of No. 2, Brunswick-place, Old Kent-road, in the parish of St. George, Southwark. I was aroused about 2 o'clock in the morning by a policeman's rattle, and a knocking—I got out of bed, went to the back bed room window, threw open the sash, and saw a policeman on the wall of the adjoining premises—he called out, "There are thieves in your house, for God's sake come down!"—I came down stairs, and in the shop found several bundles of goods, near the door; they were mine, and had been on shelves and boxes, and some in the window—I had gone to bed about 11 o'clock, the window fastenings were then secure—I believe I was the last person up, but not the last in the shop; my appren-tike has to turn the gas out, and he brought me the key of the shop—I found the counting house door broken open, and almost all my papers in the counting house disturbed, and my desk also, which had not been locked—
—there bad been no money in that, but there had been about 3l. 3s. In silver and copper in the desk in the shop which had been locked, and was broken open, and the money gone—there were marks on the desks—this is my wife's fruit knife, it was in the front sitting room the night before—that does not communicate with the shop, there is rather a long staircase between, and a passage as well—the sitting room is up stairs, it is the room where the pane of glass was found broken—this life preserver was found on the door mat in the kitchen, leading to the yard—the kitchen is below the shop—these silver spoons are my property, and bear my initials, "T. R." and here is my knife rest as well—the value of the property removed is about 330l.
Cross-examined. Q. You have not lost any of it? A. No—there is nothing on this knife by which I can identify it, but my wife had one exactly like it—these spectacles are like mine, they suit my sight exceedingly well, and I believe them to be mine.
MR. LILLEY. Q. When did you see the fruit knife last? A. I am not positive, but it has not been seen since—it was my wife's before she was married, two years ago—the pane of glass was not broken when I went to bed—I saw to the fastenings in that room myself.
SIMPSON— GUILTY .** Aged 21.
MITCHELL— GUILTY .** Aged 23.— Four Years Penal Servitude .
(Simpson was further charged with having been before convicted.)
GEORGE QUINNEAR (police-sergeant, P 1). I produce a certificate (Read: "St. Mary, Newington, Peter Williams, Convicted, May, 1852, of stealing 30 lbs. weight of veal; having then been before convicted: Transported for ten years")—Simpson is the man—I was present at his trial.
GUILTY.— Transported for Fourteen Years .
82. JOHN LAWLEY, alias Robins , stealing, at Bermondsey, 3 watches, 1 silver cup, 1 brooch, and other articles, value 17l.; the property of John Lawley, in his dwelling house: having been before convicted: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 63.— Confined Twelve Months .
Before Mr. Justice Erle.
83. ALFRED ROE , stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, at Lewisham, a certain post letter, containing 1s., and an order for the sum of 10s.; also, a letter, containing 1 half sovereign; also, a letter, containing 1 half sovereign, 2 sixpences, and 1 stamped envelope; the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General: to all of which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 18.— Four Years Penal Servitude .
84. JAMES RUSSELL , stealing, whilst employed in the Post-office, at Southwark, 1 printed newspaper, with a cover, and 1 other printed newspaper, sent by post, without a cover; the property of the PostmasterGeneral: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 23.— Confined Nine Months .
Before Russell Gurney, Esq.
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 23.— Six Years Penal Servitude .
MR. CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRANNAN (police inspector). On 2nd Nov., about 2 o'clock in the day, in consequence of information, I went to a house, No. 8, Cottageplace, Commercial-road, Lambeth—John Toomer keeps that house—Ann Toomer is his wife—Riley does not late there, but cornea there occasionally—she is the mother of Ann Toomer—I went into a room on the first floor—I found the three prisoners there—I said to the man, "Here we are again, Mr. Toomer"—I had been to see him before—not there, but I had visited him at another place—he said, "Yes, Mr. Brannan"—I said, "I have received information that you are coining"—I directed the officers who were with me to secure him, and then proceeded to a cupboard in the room and searched it—the door was thrown back against the wall—I found in it a galvanic battery and plate, a ladle with white metal in it, and these four crown pieces—the battery had some acid in it, which I now produce in this bottle—I found a bag containing three counterfeit crowns, which are bent as if they had been tendered and returned—I said to an officer who accompanied me, "The stock is rather limited"—and John Toomer said, "They are not typed, so help me God! I only made a few pieces to keep these two b—rs"—there were the two female prisoners, and three small children there—I searched John Toomer—he said, "You may search as long as you please, you won't find a trap; I have not such a thing in the house."
Cross-examined by MR. PAYNE. Q. Did he not say he hoped you would not hurt his wife, as she had been lately confined? A. Yes—one of these pieces is in a fit state to utter, the other three are not.
JOHN TOOMER— GUILTY . Aged 25.— Confined Eighteen Months .
MARY ANN RILEY
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN MANTLE . I am an eating house keeper at Vauxhall-wharf. On 16th Nov., the two prisoners came in company with another who is not in custody—the two prisoners sat down by themselves, and the other sat down in the parlour by himself—the prisoners had some refreshment which came to 10 1/2 d.—they ate what was given them and Reeves offered me a sovereign—I took it up, took it round the counter, and rung it on a slab, and by the weight and ringing I was perfectly satisfied it was good—I asked my wife to get change, and Williams said, "I believe I have copper enough to pay"—I saw he had some copper, and I gave the sovereign back to Reeves—after I had given it back Williams said he had not got enough by a halfpenny, and Reeves chucked down a piece and said, "Never mind; give me change, governor, for this; I must get change somewhere"—I took up the piece that he threw down directly and said, "I cannot give you change for this"—he asked why—I said, "Because I do not believe it is worth a farthing"—it was not the same that I had had before—it was very light—I detected it by the weight and by the roughness on the edge—Reeves asked me for it back again to go and get it changed—he said he took it for work—I asked him where he worked—he did not give me any further answer than this, "I told you I was looking for work"—I sent for a constable—I gave him the sovereign and gave them both in charge—just as this disputing was going on, the third man came out of the parlour door which is on the left, and said,
"Governor, are these men trying to pass bad money on you?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Let me look at it"—I said, "No, you won't catch old birds with chaff"—I did not give it him—I went to fetch a constable—he followed me out and did not return.
Reeves Q. Did you have the sovereign or your wife? A. I did—my wife was not there at first—when you gave me the sovereign she was in the parlour seeing after the other man's money—I swear that I took the sovereign out of your hand first—you gave it to me in the place where you sat down to eat—my wife was not there when you gave me the good one—when you gave me the bad one she was—I took it off the counter—I do not think my wife ever had it in her hand—she might take it off the slab—it was never out of my sight—you were not in the shop five minutes till I got a policeman—I went out under the pretence to get the bad sovereign weighed.
Williams. Q. You went to my place and found my statement to be correct? A. Yes, you told me you were married, and was a tailor—you gave me your true address.
Reeves Q. I gave my right address? A. Yes, you are a labourer.
GEORGE CRICK (police sergeant, L 22). I went with the last witness and the prisoners to the station—Reeves said in the shop that he received the sovereign for work from his employer—I asked who his employer was—he said he had been working in the docks, but he did not tell me what dock—I asked him what dock, but he said no more—on Saturday last, when we were at the police court, he said he picked it up close to Mr. Mantle's shop.
Reeves. Q. Did I not say St. Katherine's Docks? A. Last Saturday you did, but you did not before.
Reeve's Defence. I found the sovereign, and went into the first shop to get something to eat; I had been looking for work since 7 o'clock in the morning.
Williams's Defence. I know no more about the sovereign being bad than nothing at all.
REEVES— GUILTY .* Aged 35.— Confined Twelve Months .
WILLIAMS— NOT GUILTY .
MR. CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
ISAAC THURSTON . I was in the tap room of a public house at China Hall Rotherhithe—on 9th Nov., about 9 o'clock in the morning, the prisoner came in—he spoke to me and wanted some of my drink, I refused—he said he had got plenty of money—I told him I did not want any of his money—he had some drink, and wanted roe to have drink with him—at last he gave me a shilling—I took it to the bar and it was returned to me as bad—I brought it back to the prisoner and told him what the barmaid had said, and he gave me another which was good—I took that to the bar and gave it to the barmaid—soon afterwards the prisoner gave me another shilling to get something else from the bar—(there had been 4 1/2 d. change on the first occasion)—I gave that shilling to the barmaid—Mr. Leftwich was in the bar parlour—he stepped out and took the shilling, and made a hole in it—
I took it to the prisoner and asked him if he had got any more; and he had got the shilling that I took back to him first, and two more bad shillings in his hand—I took the other two shillings to the bar, and they were both bad—Mr. Leftwich came with me to the prisoner, and asked him if he had got any more money—he said, "Yes, in this pocket "—I put my hand in it and there were 3s. loose in his pocket, and two 2s. pieces, and two half crowns wrapped up in one piece of paper—Mr. Leftwich took the two half crowns—the other two pieces the prisoner took and put in his own pocket—he was very tipsy—he had not much to drink there—I took him three half quarterns of rum—he had one, I had one, and a stranger had one.
MARIA COOMBS . I am barmaid at that house. The prisoner came there, and the last witness brought me a shilling for some rum—the shilling was bad—I gave it him back again—he afterwards came with another shilling for some beer—it was bad—I gave it to Mr. Leftwich.
JOSEPH LEFTWICH . I keep this public house. On 9th Nov. the last witness gave me a bad shilling—I went with Mr. Thurston to where the prisoner was sitting, in the tap room—Mr. Thurston asked him where he got the bad money—he made no answer—he was very drunk—he had some money in his hand—I looked at it—it was bad—I took two half crowns. which lay on the table after Mr. Thurston took them out of his pocket—there were seven bad shillings altogether, two bad half crowns, and two bad 2s. pieces.
JOHN WILMAM SAWARD (policeman, M 120). I was called on 9th Nov., and took the prisoner into custody—I received these two half crowns and five shillings from Mr. Leftwich, one 2s. piece, and one shilling, the prisoner dropped in the tap room—I asked him if he had any more, and he gave me some more—he was very drunk—I had to lead him to the station.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"The night before this happened I met a man in the Plough public house; I had received 35s. the night before; Michael Hoffin was with me; I got groggy, and unless I got the money from him I do not know how I got it; I got amongst this bad company; I do not know how I got the money.")
GUILTY .** Aged 30.— Confined Nine Months .
MR. CLERK conducted the Prosecution.
SOPHIA PERCY . My husband is a chandler, and lives in Richardson-street, Bermondsey. On 16th Nov., about 8 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came for an ounce of tobacco—I served him—it came to 3d.—he gave me a half crown—I had not change—I gave it to my son to get change—I gave the prisoner 2s. 3d.—after he had left, Mr. Cusin came in with a bad half crown—he left it with me—I put it in a drawer, locked it, and kept the key—on the evening of the following day I took that half crown out of the drawer—I took it to Mr. Cusins's, the public house, and gave it to my husband, and he gave it to the constable.
JOHN PERCY . I am nine years old—on a Friday in Nov. my mother sent me with a half crown to Mr. Cusins—I gave him the half crown, and took the change back to my mother—on the next night, Saturday, I went to Mr. Cusin's beer shop for my mother's supper beer—I saw the prisoner in the tap room, drinking some beer—I went home and told my mother, and she came with me.
THOMAS HENRY CUSINS . I keep a public home in Long-lane. On Friday, 16th Nov., the last witness brought me a half-crown—I gave him change—I put the half crown at the back of my shelf—it was a very old one—when the boy was gone, I looked at it, and it was bad—on the following evening the prisoner was in my house—he was taken into custody just outside the door.
ALFRED PERCY . I am the husband of Sophia Percy. On the Saturday night I went to Mr. Cusins's—my wife came after I was there—I sent her back for the piece of money—she gave it me, and I went for a policeman, who took the prisoner into custody.
MARIA WINDERS . My husband is a pork butcher, in Long-lane. On 17th Nov. the prisoner came, between 8 and 9 o'clock, for a pound of sausages—the price was 4d.—he gave me a half crown, and he said, "That is all right, mistress; you need not be afraid of that"—I gave him 2s. 2d. change, and he left—as soon as he was gone, I looked at the half crown, and it was bad—I showed it to my husband—it was not out of my sight—I locked it up in my work drawer—it remained there till the Monday, when I took it to the police station—I gave the prisoner two sixpences, one shilling, and either two pence or four halfpence—one sixpence was particularly marked—I have seen it since, and can swear to it.
Prisoner. Q. You say you put it into the drawer? A. Not till I had shown it to my husband—I had not another half crown in the till, only one shilling, a few sixpences, and some coppers—I did not give you two shillings—I gave you one shilling and two sixpences—there were several persons in the shop—a female came in shortly before you, and gave me a bad crown—I did not sell a joint of meat that night—I had not another, half crown at that time.
MICHAEL CREGEN (policeman, M 145). I took the prisoner outside Mr. Cusins' shop, about ten o'clock at night—that is about 200 yards from Mr. Winders'—Mr. Percy gave me this half crown at the station—I searched the prisoner, and found on him one shilling, two sixpences, and 2 1/2 d. In copper, and one pound of sausages in a piece of newspaper, which Mrs. Winders identified—the prisoner denied having been in Mr. Percy's shop on the Friday night.
COURT. Q. What did you say to the prisoner? A. I said, "Come with me to the station"—Mr. Percy had him in custody when I came up, for passing a bad half crown—he said, "I charge you with passing a bad half crown"—the prisoner said, "I have not been there "—on the Monday Mrs. Winders produced this half crown, which he had passed to her—he said he had never been in the shop.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months .
90. HENRY HEARN , stealing 1 chimney sweeping machine, value 2l.; the goods of John Scott: also, 1 chimney sweeping machine, value 2l.; the goods of James Dignum: also, 1 chimney sweeping machine, value 4l.; the goods of William Edwards: having been before convicted: to all which he
PLEADED GUILTY . Aged 25.— Four Years' Penal Servitude .
ADJOVRNED TO MONDAY, DECEMBER 17TH, 1855.