CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 17TH, 1860.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE,
REVISED AND EDITED BY
ROBERT ORRIDGE, ESQ.
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.
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, December 17th, 1860, and following days.
BEFORE the Right Hon. WILLIAM CUBITT, Esq. M.P. Lord Mayor of the City of London; Sir Robert Walter Carden, Knt., one of the Aldermen of the said City; Russell Gurney, Esq. Q.C. Recorder of the said City; William Anderson Rose, Esq.; William Lawrence Esq.; William Ferneley Allen, Esq.; and Edward Conder, Esq.; Aldermen of the said City; Thomas Chambers, Esq. Common Serjeant of the said City; and Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq. Judge of the Sheriff's Court of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
ANDREW LUSK, Esq.
OCTAVIUS TRYON CHAPMAN EAGLETON, Esq.
CHARLES GAMMON, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
CUBITT, MAYOR. SECOND SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, December 17th, 1860.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt. Ald. M.P.; Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. ROSE; Mr. Ald. LAWRENCE; and Mr. Ald. ALLEN.
Before Mr. Recorder.
77. EDWARD LITTLE (18), was indicted for feloniously forging and uttering 3 requests for the delivery of goods, also for stealing 303 yards of brown holland, value 11l. 3s., of Thomas Rawlinson, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.—Judgment respited.
78. JANE HANNAH HAYNES , Feloniously assaulting James Haynes Haynes, and casting and throwing upon him 2 ounces of oil of vitriol with intent to burn him, and whereby he was burnt; Second Count, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution,
JAMES HAYNES HAYNES . I am an attorney and solicitor, carrying on business at 3, Finsbury-chambers, Bloomfield-street, London, and reside at 36, Newton-street, Hoxton—the prisoner is my wife—I married her on the 24th December, 1850, in New York City—I was introduced to her at No. 1A, Douane-street—she was not living at that time with her parents, they resided in the country—I afterwards came to England with her, in February, 1851, and continued to live in England with her till 1856—we lived at several different places in London and the country—in 1856 we were living at 39, Grafton-terrace, Kentish-town, that is where this matter occurred—I was absent from my residence, generally speaking, from nine till late in the evening—on the morning this matter happened, I had left rather earlier than usual, about half-past eight, and I did not return at night till about eleven o'clock, that was on the eleventh of July, 1856—when I returned I found no one in the house but a child I had by the prisoner; she was two years and four months old—I lighted a candle, and went out to get some beer for supper, from an adjacent public-house, as I had had no dinner—when I came in I found the prisoner and a person who passes as Mr. Moore, just returned from the street, evidently out of breath, as if they had been running, with neither hats, caps, bonnets, or shawls on—I remonstrated with the prisoner upon her conduct—she became very violent as usual—I
told her I hoped that now she was a married woman, she would not repeat the conduct she was guilty of before she was married—she then deliberately unbolted the two bolts of the door which communicates with the kitchen, and leads into the wash-house, where there was no light, and returned from the dark into the light room, with something in her hand—I was eating some bread and cheese at the time, and noticed that she had something concealed in the folds of her dress, and from my former experience I imagined that she had a knife—I said to her, "You have got a knife"—I got up with the intention of closing with her to prevent her using it, when she immediately threw something, what it was at the time I did not know, which completely blinded me and caused me much agony—it came from her right hand—it was some burning fluid, which went into my eyes and all over my face and clothes, and burnt my neck and face dreadfully, I could not see anything—I put my head into cold water immediately afterwards—when I recovered, I went in search of a police constable, and brought him in—I saw him take a bottle out of the grate—it was summer time, and then was no fire in the kitchen—Alice Young, who calls herself Mr. Moore, pointed out where the bottle was—Mr. Bailey, the surgeon, came to me—I believe Mr. Moore fetched him—he attended to me—I was confined to my bed for about six weeks—I then used to go down stairs on to the sofa in the middle of the day—I have never been able thoroughly to attend to my business since—it has very much affected my sight—I cannot see at all by sunlight, or any strong light, or by gas—the sight of the right eye it nearly gone—I have never been able to see thoroughly with it since—if I close my left eye I can hardly see distinctly—it was not at all affected before that—my left eye was also affected very much for some time—the liquid went into the side of the left eye, but it went all over the right—I think I was attended by Mr. Bailey for about six weeks, and then, at the recommendation of a friend, I went to the Ophthalmic Hospital, in Gray's Inn-road, and became a subscriber—I am still attending there, and am under the same medical care—I did not go to the police court after I recovered myself, in consideration of the child—I said I would forgive her—the matter was taken before the police court while I was confined to my bed, but I said if she would behave herself better, and let that be a warning to her, I would not press the matter—she came back to the house—I may be allowed to say that we never had any sulphuric acid or other burning material in the house, because we had no saucepans, or coppers, or anything of that kind to clean—I never had bought any, before or since—I believe this indictment was preferred in August—between the time this happened, and the preferring of the indictment, something else happened; she found I was not quite blind with the left eye, and she said, "I have put one eye out, and now I will put out the other," and she called me a d----English son of a b----which was a term she frequently used—that was while I was lying on the sofa—I consulted with Mr. Jones, he is my brother, but I have changed my name, by the Queen's license, on coming into some property—this indictment was preferred, but even after that I said, if she would leave the child with me and go away I would not follow it up—she did go away, and left the child with me—that was in September, 1856—I saw her next on the evening of 7th February, 1857—she came and opened the door to me on my return home, about half past seven or eight in the evening, she then had the child in her arms—my mother was at that time keeping house for me—the prisoner asked me whether I would forgive her altogether, and allow her to return to live with me as my wife—after some demur and long conversation she
promised to pledge her oath upon the Bible—I told her I could not administer an oath to her—she said she would be a dutiful wife, and made every promise a woman could make, and then I consented that she should stop—she remained exactly thirteen days—my mother, I ought to say immediately took her departure, because she was frightened at her—at the end of the thirteen days she took herself off, having received some telegraphic despatch from some man or other, and took away with her everything she could lay her hands on, she also took the child—that was not while I was absent—she had packed up everything during my absence—she said she must go to America, and she would take the child to show to her parents, and her brothers, and sisters, and return immediately—I objected and protested against her going and taking the child, but she went—I next saw her on Sunday, 22d August, 1858, and again on the Monday following—I don't know of my own knowledge, whether she remained in England any time then—I next saw her on Sunday evening, 4th November last, under the following circumstances—a knock came to the door, the servant opened it, and the prisoner flung the door wide open and came into my parlour, accompanied by the same Alice Young—they both conducted themselves in a very improper manner, sitting on the table and using most insulting and degrading remarks to me; she called me every sort of name she could possibly think of—horrible expressions, the usual expressions—she called me a d----English son of b----, half-a-dozen times, and such expressions as that—I requested them to leave quietly, they would not—I then went for a police constable, but he said he could not remove them unless there was some breach of the peace—in the presence of the police constable, I first turned out Alice Young and then my wife—there was a great deal of resistance, but no force was used more than was necessary—she threatened to pay me another visit, and I then gave her notice of this prosecution, I did that on the 7th December.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. The last matter you have been detailing was in 1860, was it not? A. Yes, last month—I did not say that my wife came back to England on 22d August, 1858—I said I saw her then—I have heard that she subsequently went to America and returned this year, but I do not know it of my own knowledge—when I married her she was eighteen years of age, less twelve days, she did not behave in every respect as a kind wife to me during the early part of her married life; quite the reverse—she did not do all the menial work when we were living in Grafton-terrace in 1852—we were in furnished apartments there, with attendance—it is not true that in consequence of my misfortunes she did the menial work, and even washed her own clothes while we were living there—I have a cousin named Jones of Stonehouse—I struck my wife on one occasion—that was while we were living in Grafton-terrace—I think the blow blacked her eye—I did not make her promise, as my cousin was expected that evening, to say that she had slipped on some orange-peel—I told him all about it, and he said she richly deserved it, and that if I had killed her it would have served her right—that was in 1852, I think; about March—she did not, in consequence of that, go before a magistrate and have me summoned—I mean to say most distinctly that she did no such thing—I can't recollect what she threatened to do, at this distance of time—to the best of my belief she did not threaten to do any thing of the kind—I did not beg her to forgive me that time, and say I would never do so again—you are mixing up another transaction altogether—I never struck her but once—she assaulted me on another occasion very severely indeed, and to protect myself from her violence I laid hold of her to keep her down, and
on that occasion she threatened to take out a summons, but I do not know whether she did so—I am not sure whether I was served with a summons or not—I do not recollect being served, but I know I did not appear—to the best of my belief the matter was only talked about—to the best of my belief I will swear that I was not served with a summons—I think I dared her to take out a summons—to the best of my belief she did not take it out, but it is more than four years ago, and I will not say postively—there was something at the beginning of 1856—in 1857 I was living at Kingsland—I was arrested for debt then, and confined in the Queen's Bench prison—I was there from September, 1853, to the beginning of February, 1854—during that time she certainly behaved very well, and that was the only time—she behaved remarkably well, and acted as wife ought to do—after leaving the Queen's prison we went somewhere in Southwark, I forget the name of the street; we then removed to 76, Amwell-street—we were living at 39, Grafton-road at the time that a girl named Isabella Stevens was living with us—she was not a servant—she was the daughter of a former landlady, and came more as a companion than anything else—I think she was about ten years of age at that time—my wife never charged me with indecent conduct towards that girl—there is not a word of truth in it; nor was she sent out of the house by my wife upon that; nothing of the kind—my wife was always discharging servants—she never could keep the servants—no servant would stay with her—Mr. and Mr. Moore are not here to-day—I have used every exertion to bring them tare—it was I who introduced Mr. and Mr. Moore to my wife—Mr. Moore was a client of mine—he told me he was thinking of taking a house in our neighbourhood, and would I allow him and his wife to come and reside with us for a few weeks until he could find a suitable house—at that time I believed them to be man and wife—I don't know how many months they lived with us—it was until I found out that Alice Young was not Mr. Moore, and then I gave them notice to quit—they left, I think, the day after the assault I have spoken of—I did not, one night, while they were with me, beat and ill-treat my wife so as to cause her to scream out, and make Mr. and Mr. Moore interfere—she beat me with a bludgeon, and I closed with her to take it away, and then she hallooed out—she went to the window and called out for the police—that was a very common thing for her to do—she would attack me, and then directly she thought I was going to strike her in return, she would call for the police—on the night of this alleged assault, Mr. Moore came home with me—Mr. and Mr. Moore were both present when it took place—they never gave evidence before the Magistrate upon it—I believe they were not called upon—they were there, but Mr. Long was quite satisfied—I was examined upon this charge—I preferred the charge against her in order to get her bound over to keep the peace—that was a month afterwards—she was present when I made the complaint before the Magistrate, and she was bound over to keep the peace—I did not say that I would abandon the charge because I did not believe she knew what was in the bottle, and that she had no intent to hurt me; nothing of the kind—I saw Alice Young on 4th November—I have seen both Mr. and Mr. Moore since—I knew where they were residing, and both myself and clerk and another person also have been there—I saw them both in the early part of this present month—I have not seen them within the last week—I think the 7th was the last time I saw them—my clerk went and served the prisoner with this notice, and I went to find out where Moore was living, as I heard he had faied and was moving—I went to serve him with a notice to appear, and on that night
I saw them both—I found he was keeping out of the way, and Alice Young has gone away into the country—I have made every possible exertion to subpœna them; three of us have been trying, even as late as this morning—it was a kind of washhouse into which the prisoner went to get the bottle—I believe Mr. and Mr. Moore had a charwoman about once a week—I don't know what her duties were, or what she made use of for the purpose of cleaning things—I understand that it was Mr. Moore who brought the surgeon to me after this occurred, but I could not say—I can't say whether my wife went to get the leeches—Alice Young put them on, and behaved very humanely and kindly—the child was taken to America against my will—I had no control over so young a child—she went away on the evening of 20th February, 1857—she took the child contrary to my wishes—I went with her down to the railway-station at Euston-square, and all the way I was riding in the cab with her I was requesting her to return, and I wrote to her after that, a letter dated 6th March, requesting her to return; I got an answer back on 7th May, refusing to return (looking at a paper)—this has the prisoner's signature; the other part is in my writing (This was dated 17th February, 1857, and was an undertaking by the prisoner upon being permitted to take the child to the United States, that it should be returned on attaining the age of seven years, and in the meantime she should be brought up in a manner befitting her station and expectations)—I repented of having consented to that document, and urged her to put an end to the transaction, and let me take care of the child—I did not mind about her going away, but I wanted possession of the child—this letter is in my hand writing (This was dated 6th March, addressed to the prisoner in the United States, expressing the writer's distress of mind at her having left him, and imploring her return). I still say the child was taken away contrary to my wishes—I could not control her—I regretted her going—she wrote an answer to that letter, refusing to live with me any longer—in 1857 she did return, and appealed to me to forgive her—this letter dated, 8th February, 1857, was addressed by me to Captain Waite, of the ship Enterprise—that was the day she came to my house; and this other letter dated, 14th February, 1857, addressed to Captain Waite, is also in my handwriting—(These letters, being read, contained expressions of thanks to the captain for his care of the prosecutor's wife on the voyage)—while I was in the Queen's prison I did not deny to the governor that the prisoner was my wife—the deputy-governor ordered her out of the prison, and also a girl who was waiting on me there—that person passed as my wife—this was in August, 1858, when I was there for contempt of court—previous to her return in 1860, I had written to her brother, begging her to return, and I will explain why I did so—I had heard about 4th October, from a brother freemason, that she was dead—I made every possible inquiry, and could not ascertain anything about her, except things which were not pleasant to my ears, and knowing that no straightforward letter would receive an answer from her brother, I wrote a letter for the purpose of eliciting an answer, and I got one both from the brother's wife, and from the prisoner herself—it was such a letter as would elicit a reply—letters had been sent before which were not answered—I did not ask Mr. Miller to write, and try to get my wife to return after I had written that letter—that was in July I believe—there was another letter sent—when she came back to my house I was living in Newton-street—she found me living there with another woman, and with two or three children—the woman was passing as my wife—I turned the prisoner out into the street on that occasion myself.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Were you ever guilty of any impropriety of that sort, from the time this matter occurred up to the time the prisoner left you? A. No; most distinctly not—it was never imputed to me—how I came to be in the Queen's Prison was in this way, I speculated with others in a mine; those others turned out not to be the most honest people; the liabilities were all thrown on me; I was sued to the amount of 3000l. of 4000l. and could not pay it—I was arrested, and filed a petition in the Insolvent Court—I owed about 7000l.—I believe I owe now about 400l.—all the debts are paid—that was the whole cause of my imprisonment—in 1858 I was again unfortunate through a Chancery suit—I have since dismissed the bill, and they have paid my costs—I did not put in the answer in proper time, and was held to be in contempt, and was sent to the Queen's prison—I had reason to complain of the prisoner's conduct, almost every month, and every week—I have borne with her as long as I could—she has been guilty of innumerable acts of violence towards me—she has several times taken a knife to me—she would have killed my mother on one occasion, if I had not interfered—at one time she threw as immense glass stand at me, which bruised my temple, and broke into a thousand pieces against the wall—I had great affection for her—I has taken her back from time to time, and tried in every possible way to reclaim her—on the occasion when I struck her, she was very violent with me, and would not allow me to be peaceful for one moment—I went to lie on the bed to rest, and it was then she took up the large glass ornament, and threw it at my head with all her force—her conduct was so violent and outrageous that I was compelled to strike her in self-defence—that was the only occasion on which I ever struck her—she has never complained of any violence that I have been guilty of; in fact, she has requested me to correct her—she has requested me to strike her—I wish to be protected from her violence—I saw the policeman take the bottle out of the grate, and give it to Mr. Bailey.
JOSEPH BAILEY . I am a surgeon of 12, Southampton-street, Kentishtown—on 11th July, 1856, I was sent for to the prosecutor's house at 11 o'clock, and found the prosecutor suffering from a number of spots caused by fluid on the face, and violent inflammation of the eyes, suffering great pain, and in a great state of excitement—that injury would be caused by strong sulphuric acid—a bottle was given to me with a small quantity of fluid is the bottom of it—I examined it by looking at it only; it looked like strong acid, probably sulphuric, and appeared as if it had been used for cleaning grates or metal utensils—I attended the prosecutor for about a month—I thought at the time that he had lost the use of one eye—I examined his eye this morning and found a little remains of the fluid; both eyes appeared to be weak.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe it was the prisoner who came for you? A. Yes—whether it was sulphuric or muriatic acid would make very little difference as to the effect—I would not pledge myself to it being sulphuric acid—it was a strong acid, and was likely to cause the injury I saw.
COURT. Q. Was it a corrosive fluid? A. Yes, certainly—I believe it to have been sulphuric acid, but it might have been nitric or muriatic.
STEPHEN COLEBROOK . I was formerly a constable of the S division, but have retired—on the evening of 11th July, 1856, I was called to the prosecutor's house and saw him and Mr. Haig and another female, and a lodger, Mr. Moore—I took the prisoner in custody and took here to the station—a bottle was taken by Mr. Moore or somebody else from under the kitchen grate and given to me.
Cross-examined. Q. When you took her in custody who charged her? A. Mr. Haynes—he said that she had thrown some vitriol into his face—I do not recollect that she said in reply, "I had no idea that there was anything in the bottle;" it is so long ago—she appeared in great grief at what had occurred and in great agitation—she said that he had aggravated her because he had taken up a carving knife to her, or some remark of that kind, she was very much excited—she ran off for a doctor and for some leeches—I cannot say whether she went without her boots.
COURT to J. H. HAYNES. In 1856, before you preferred the bill, did you give the prisoner notice that you were going to do so? A. I did not—I did not know that she was charged as a single woman till I attended before the Grand Jury; the bill had then been drawn.
GUILTY— Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of the preview provocation.—Judgment respited.
79. JAMES HARE (58) , Stealing a coat, a scarf; and a mitten, value 2l., of Edward Hales , also, a coat, value 3l. of Walter Bryant , also , a coat, value 2l. of Richard Thomas , also, a coat, value 2l. of George Phillips , also, an umbrella, value 13s. of Henry Weston, having been previously convicted of felony; to all of which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
It was stated by the officer that the prisoner had already been under sentence, of Seven Year's and Fourteen Year's Transportation, and Four Year's Penal Servitude, and had been twice liberated upon a ticket of leave.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
HENRY HARRIS . I am assistant to a pawnbroker—on the night of 8th December I was walking along Bishopsgate-street—the prisoner came up to me and caught me by the arm as I was crossing Liverpool-street, and said, "Young man, I want to speak to you, I have just come from Australia, and I have got an Australian ring in my pocket, I am hard up and must have some money; "at the same time he said, "I have a silver chain, (pulling it off his neck,) and I can sell the two to you for a pound—directly he put the ring into my hand I saw that it was spurious, and then found the chain to be so too—he said, "Come a little further down, the b----bobbies Are continually watching me about here"—I said, "Is the ring gold?"—he said, "Yes, real Australian gold"—I said, "Is the chain silver?"—he said, "Yes, it is"—I said, "Well then you come along with me"—he said, "What are you going to do? can't I get an honest living; mind, I only asked you a crown for them"—I said, "Never mind, come along with me"—I saw a constable, told him what had happened, and gave the prisoner in custody—at the station-house he said at first he only asked a crown, that he was a dealer in these kind of goods, and bought them down "the lane;" and that all Jews down the lane sold them for gold, and then he said when he asked me a pound of course he did not expect to get it; he expected a few shillings less—he also said, "It is all right what has been said, the articles are not right"—he said the ring was not gold, nor the chain silver—I have
since tested them, the chain appears to be copper plated with au outer coating of nitric acid and quicksilver, and the ring is partially washed with some gold colour.
Prisoner. I only asked him a few shillings, and then a crown—he said, "They are not gold," and I said, "I am aware of that."
Witness. You said the ring was gold, you never said it was not until I gave you into custody.
WALTER MILLS (City-policeman, 623.) The prisoner was given into my custody, I searched him, and found on him two more rings the same as this and fifteen shirt studs of the same sort—he gave his right name and address.
Prisoner's Defence. I did offer to sell the articles certainly, but everybody knows that we Jews are in the habit of asking more than we take; nobody ever expects to give us what we ask. We are unfortunate fellows; the City authorities will not allow us to have a barrow in the street. I had only taken 1s. all the day. I have been here a week, and ill all the time.
GUILTY .— Confined Four Months.
82. EDWIN BREWER (24) , Unlawfully obtaining 80 yards of alpaca, the property of Andrew Caldecott and others, by false pretences; also, for unlawfully obtaining 63 yards of velvet, value 8l. 0s. 2d., the property of Charles Candy and others; also, 42 yards of alpaca, value 2l. 6s., the property of John Bradbury and others; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .—The prisoner received a good character,— Confined Nine months.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
EMMA GREEN . I am the wife of William Green, and reside at 5, St. George's-terrace, Kensington—on Friday, 7th December, I was in Sussexplace, Kensington, about 12 o'clock in the day—I was wearing a gold locket fastened to a piece of elastic—it was merely attached to my brooch, not round my neck—I had nearly crossed the road when the prisoner, I believe, came across;—I think he was the first person I met—I did not look at him at the moment—he shook me, and dragged the locket—he saw it by my pulling my cloak as I was arranging myself for my walk—I imagine he took it for a watch—he shook me, and ran off with it directly—I could not speak for a minute or two, but when I did I saw a policeman, and I hallooed out to him "Thief," and pointed to the man—the policeman followed him, another gentleman saw him, but he is not here—when I pointed out the person he was running away—I am sure I pointed out the personwho had snatched the locket; there was no other—he had a red handkerchief on, but I could see a great deal more of it than I can see now.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. You are not able to say positively that this is the man? A. I should not like to swear it—there was no one else near—when I pointed the man out to the policeman he was running—the prisoner is exactly like the man who took my locket—where I saw the man running was in the same street where I had lost my locket—the gentleman who saw him, and ran after him, is a Mr. Vigo, a member of Parliament—I had not turned the corner before I saw the man running—I cannot tell the distance from the place where I lost the locket to the place where I pointed the man out to the policeman—it was about as far as the end of this court—there were no other persons about, except two coalmen.
MR. POLAND. Q. Was there only one man running? A. Only one man JOHN LAWRENCE. I am a labourer, and live at 1, Holland-place, Kensington—on Friday, 7th December, about 12 o'clock, I was crossing from Victoria-grove into Sussex-place, and saw Mr. Green coming up—I saw a man resembling the prisoner go up to her, make a snatch, and runaway—the lady gave an alarm of "Stop him, he has robbed me"—a police-constable came up, and he followed the man directly afterwards—he wore a flannel jacket the same as the prisoner, wears, but I could not swear to his handkerchief or his cap—there was only one person running—I saw the policeman turn the corner of Sussex-place into Gloucester-road, and I lost sight of him.
Cross-examined by MR. ABRAM. Q. How far were you off? A. About twelve yards—I don't swear to the man.
JOSEPH HENRY TAYLOR (Policeman, T 12.) On Friday, 7th December, I Was on duty, in Sussex-place about a quarter past 12 in the day—I heard a cry—I went into Sussex-place—I had previously to my hearing the alarm met the prisoner—he was not running then—it was not a minute before this happened—I went a short distance, and returned in consequence of suspecting the prisoner—I then heard the alarm of "Stop him"—immediately after I saw the prosecutrix, who told me something—she pointed out a man running and said she had lost her gold watch—I went after the person she pointed out—he was about thirty yards from the prosecutrix when Le spoke to me—he went down a lane leading out of Sussex-place, and afterwards across I seven or eight fields—I pursued him for about an hour, and at last overtook him at North-end, Futham, in the private ground of a gentleman named Downes—I told him he was charged with stealing a lady's gold watch in Sussex-place, Kensington—he made no reply—I searched him but found nothing on him—on the way to the station, about a quarter of a mile from where I captured him, he made a most determined resistance, and tried to get away—he struck me on the side of the head, and knocked me down—I still kept my hold, and recovered my feet, and then he kicked me in the privates, and also on my knee, and my hand—a man named Moore rendered me assistance, and I eventually took the prisoner to the station—I had not lost sight of him during the chase except temporarily in passing a building, but I got sufficiently close to him at the commencement to know he was the man I had met only a minute before—on one occasion I got as near to him as I am to his lordship—he was dressed as he is now, except his handkerchief—he had a drab handkerchief with red about it—it might be the same he has on now, only folded differently.
Cross-examined by MR. ABRAM. Q. Was he sober? A. Yes—I did not lose sight of him for a quarter of an hour, and then only temporarily—I did not lose sight of him at all in Sussex-place—he might have thrown the locket away before I ran after him for aught I know—I did not see him the moment after he committed the robbery—I did not lose sight of him until after I knew he was the man that was pointed out to me—I recognise him. by his face, having seen him a minute before—I saw nothing of the locket.
THOMAS MOORE . I am a labourer in service at northend, Fulham—on the day in question I was in my master's ground, and saw the prisoner coming along over the banks of the canal—I said to him, "My friend, where are you going to?"—he said, "All right, Bill"—after that I heard the constable hallo out, "Stop thief"—I ran to the gate to prevent the prisoner going out, and he went through Mr. Downe's pleasure grounds, and there we caught him—the policeman came up and searched him—soon after we got out Mr. Downe's gate the prisoner knocked the constatable two or three
times, and then kicked him in the groin—I rendered assistance, and he was taken to the station.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
There was another indictment against the prisoner for assaulting the constable; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months
The prosecutor did not appear.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
NATHANIEL PARSONS . I have served as a steward in the navy—on 27th October, I was coming down Parliament-street; somebody accosted me, and I went with him to a public-house—I did not know him at all—soon afterwards a man with spectacles came in, who I did not know, and he and I and the other man, went to the White Horse, in Orchard-street, where we found Gibbons waiting in the skittle-ground with the skittles up, and Thompson came in afterwards—the prisoners played at skittles, and after they had played some time, somebody asked me to play; that was not either of the prisoners—I played with the whole of them except Thompson, who stood there, but did not play—before that, I went and pawned my watch for 2l. 15s. and made up 3l.; I deposited the money and lost it—after that, they found out by my conversation that I had 20l. at home—they said that if I knocked the skittles all down in ten times, I was to have 40l., but if I lost, I was to pay 20l.—I knocked them down in three times, and asked for the money—it was in Thompson's hands, but was turned over to the other when I had won—I did not go on playing—they got me to sign a piece of paper, saying that it was a country note—Gibbons then said to me, "You had better run as hard as you can"—I asked him to come with me, but he said "No;" and it then struck me that there was something wrong I went back to the house, but they had all gone—I took Gibbons back, and was dragged down the steps.
Gibbons. He played three chalks to the other man's 20l., and the other man won; he then agreed to play for 20l. more—I was there as a bystander—he signed a piece of paper that he would go and fetch 20l., but he ran away.
Witness. You came with me and told me to run away—I did not run away, I went back and found that they were gone.
WILLIAM HORNSBY (Police-sergeant, P 14). On 21st November, at 12 o'clock, I was on duty in Druty-lane, and the prisoners and three others passed me—the prosecutor gave me information, and I followed them past Russell-square—I did not take the prisoners then, but I did afterwards in one of the bye streets, when I met another constable—I saw Gibbons shifting something from his breast pocket and placing it somewhere else—I went across to the dock, searched him, and found these flash notes (produced) in his trousers—I said, "What have you got there he said, "It is nothing. only a piece of paper"—I took them—he had got a watch as he said, but it was only a piece of paper and a gilt chain—I searched Thompson, and
found on him 6d. and a few halfpence—these notes are of the bank of Engraving, the bank of Sidney, and the Royal bank of Australia.
Gibbons. The one from Australia is a genuine note; my brother is in the habit of sending them to my mother, and if you inquire, you will find that this is a genuine 5l. draft.
WILLIAM FISH (Policeman, A 331). I apprehended Gibbons and two others who have escaped—he said to me at the police-court that what the prosecutor said was all true, and that as long as he stated the truth, he did not care.
Gibbons. Q. Did not I say, "You played for the money and lost it?" A. No—the inspector did not book that in the charge.
GIBBON'S DEFENCE. What he said before the inspector was the truth; the inspector said, "Did you lose your money in play yourself?" and he said, "Yes, I did."
Inspector HOLMES F 3, stated that they had got their living as skittle-sharpers for the last ten years.
Confined Eighteen Months each.
87. JOHN MACDONALD (18), and THOMAS GREEN (18) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Parratt, and stealing therein 2 coats, 2 capes, 1 pair of boots, and other articles, his property; also Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Arthur George Hardy, and stealing therein 1 coat, 4 pain of boots, 2 table-covers, and other articles his property and 3 gowns, 2 handkerchiefs, and two shifts, the property of Harriett Gregory; to both of which
MACDONALD— PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
GREEN— PLEADED GUILTY .**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Monday, December 17th, 1860.
PRESENT—Mr. Aid. LAWRENCE, and MR. COMMON SIRJENT.
Before Mr. Common Serjent.
MR. ATKINSON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HAMERTON . I am clerk to Robert Eason Henderson, a hosier, of 61, Alderman bury—the prisoner came into my master's service on 5th November, this year; not exactly as an errand boy, but to make himself generally useful—my master had a cash-box, which I locked up in an iron chest in the cellar, when the business of the day was over—the prisoner might have Been me lock it up there, I do not know whether he has—on 29th November, Mr. Henderson locked the cash-box, and gave it to me—I put it in the safe, which I locked, and hid the key between some goods in the cellar—I did not positively know what was in it—I did not see the prisoner there then—a night or so before that, I had locked the safe up as usual, and the next morning I was busy, and told the prisoner to bring up the books and cash-box, and I told him where he would find the key—on the 29th, I had put the key in the same place as when I had told him before—he comes to work at 9 o'clock—I was there on the morning of the 30th—when the prisoner came to work that morning, he did not remain above five minutes—the moment we entered the building, he walked down into the cellar—at
that moment I was signing a sheet for the delivery of some goods, and did not hear him come up stairs—all that I beard was something rush by me quickly, and go out at the door—the prisoner had nothing that he has on now, but the great coat—I did not notice whether he had anything with him—I can swear it was the prisoner that went by me—I saw him—I saw no more of him till the evening—about five minutes to 11, I went down into the cellar to bring up the books and cash-box—I first tunied towards whew I had put the key on the previous night—it was missing—I ran to the safe and saw the door slightly open, about two inches—I pulled it open, felt for the cash-box, and it was gone, and the key of the safe was gone also, and has never been seen since—the prisoner did not return that day—I saw bio again, with the officer—we apprehended him in the pit of the Britannia Theatre, Hoxton—I did not call after him when he was leaving the shop; he was gone too quick.
JAMES MCLEOD (City Policeman, 141). I took the prisoner in custody on the 30th, at the Britannia Theatre, Hoxton—he was taken to the station-how and searched—I found no money on him—the charge was read over to him, and he said he knew nothing whatever of the cash-box—going down to the cell he made a statement that a boy induced him to take the cash-box—he wrote this paper (produced) at the time—I saw him write it—(Read: "As I was going home on Wednesday night I met a young chap that I knew about two years ago, and he asked me to get some money, and I told him I conuld not, and he told me I Gould get some from where I worked, and I said, no; he then said I should meet him in the morning, and he met me as I was coming out of doors, and he went down to my place with me, and as I was going in he said if I did not get some money he would come to my place and make a row, and get me out of my place, and if I did get it he would get me off to sea with it; and I did get it, and jgave it to him at the post-office, and he told me to get inside a bus, and he got outside with the box; he told me to get out at Tottenharn-court-road, and I did so, and when I got out he was gone; I never saw any more of him.—Arthur Hobson.")
Prisoner. Q. Did not you say to me that it would be better for me to tell you? A. No—I asked you no questions whatever about it—I did not say that I knew where to find the man that had seen you open the cash-box; nothing of the kind—you told me all about it when going to the cell, and asked me for a piece of paper and wrote it.
ROBERT EASON HENDERSON . I am a wholesale hosier, carryiug on business at 61, Aldermanbury—the prisoner came into my employment in the early part of November—on the evening of the 29th I locked up my cash-box—in it there was 10l. 4s. in coin, a bill of exchange for 41l. 1s. and some other papers of no money value—I gave it into the charge of William Hamerton for the purpose of its being locked up in the cellar—I have not seen it since, nor any of the contents.
GUILTY .**— Confined Eighteen Months.
MESSRS. METCALFE and LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY WHITE . I am in the print line at Bath, and am parish clerk at the church there—I produce the marriage register of the parish—I find here an entry of 21st July, 1850, Frances Liston, spinster, with George Cott, a bachelor—I was present at the marriage—I have seeu the woman who was then married—I saw her on Saturday, 24th November last—she is now in service at Fern House, near Salisbury—I have seen two of the children of
the marriage—they were reported to me as such—I recognise the prisoner as the person who was married on that occasion.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How do you read his first letter? Is it an L or a Z? A. An L—I was present—there is my own writing in the book—that is not the only way I recollect being present—I knew the prisoner before he was married—he lived close to my residence—I knew nothing of the young woman—I never saw her before—I saw her in Bath some time after their marriage—I saw her, it may be, a few times—I cannot say, I ever spoke to her after her marriage—I have just met her in the street in Bath, and passed her without speaking to her—that may be a little time after the marriage—I lost sight of her for several years after the marriage—I saw her, I think, about 1852 or 1853—they were keeping a, licensed victualler's house in Bath—I will swear that the woman I saw the other day was the same woman I saw married—I suppose it must be in 1852 that I saw her—from then till last November I lost sight of her—I don't know what became of her after she left Bath—the prosecutors requested me to go and see her at Bath—they told me to go and see the woman he was married to—I recollected her—I asked her no particular questions—I recollect that she is the same woman.
EMILY HUXTABLE . I was married to the prisoner on 5th May, 1858, at the Scotch Church, Sydney, Australia—Dr. Laing officiated—I was married at Dr. Laing's house—I don't know what they constitute a church—there is no congregation held, I think, at the place where I was married—it is Dr. Laiug's private residence—I have heard of people being married at private residences—Dr. Laing, his sister, and another person were present—the form of service gone through was not exactly like the Church of England service, but similar: a long ceremony, rather longer than the Church of England service—I have never before heard the marriage service in the Scotch Church performed—the prisoner put a ring on my finger in the course of the service, and the minister then said, "Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder," and long prayers—no one gave me away—I do not think the prisoner was asked whether he would take me to be his wife—I do not remember whether the prisoner said anything when he put the ring on my finger—I lived with him after that for about six weeks in the colony, and then I went to England alone, and he joined me here some months afterwards—that was by agreement with him—when he came home the first time I was very ill, I had just got out of my confinement—he stayed with me two days, and then went a voyage; then he came back, and I joined him in London, and he came with me to my father's house, living with me as my husband—he represented himself as steward of a mail steamer—this (produced) is the certificate that I received, at the time of the marriage, from Dr. Laing, immediately after the ceremony—the prisoner represented himself as a single man.
SIR ALFRED STEVEN . I am Chief Justice of New South Wales; ordinarily residing at Sidney—there are several Scotch Cburches—the account of the marriage by the last witness would be legal according to the mode practised in the colonies, if words of present acceptance were used—a marriage by a person ordinarily officiating as a minister of religion, without any prescribed form of words, would be a marriage according to the law of New South Wales, since March, 1856; no church or place of worship being absolutely necessary—I cannot state, of my own knowledge, that Dr. Laing is a minister ordinarily officiating—I know him in a certain way—of my own knowledge, I cannot answer the question whether he is a clergyman of the Scotch Church—I never heard him preach—I never saw him officiate.
COURT. Q. How many times? A. Once—I know other people who have heard him several times—I am not a member of the Scotch Church.
SIR ALFRED STEVEN (cross-examined). Q. I observe you gave some date; March last? A. The law of marriage has been placed on a new footing by a statute of March, 1856, which is here (produced)—it came into operation on 1st March, 1856—it consolidates into one act all the law of marriage—the whole of the law of marriage of New South Wales is contained in those four sheets of parchment, as to celebration—there must be a declaration of a particular form, by the parties, in order to make the marriage valid.
MR. RIBTON to SIR ALFRED STEVEN. Q. Whom is the oath made by? A. By the parties—I have no actual knowledge that Dr. Laing is a minister of religion—I do not know that he fulfils the character described in that section of the act—the marriage would be valid if either party believes the person officiating to be a minister of religion, ordinarily so officiating; the marriage is good, by section 6, but the party celebrating it is liable to penalty—there must be by both parties a solemn declaration, or an oath, or by affirmation, according to a certain form—the declaration must be in writing, or else an oath—the declaration would be "I solemnly and sincerely declare," and so on—that must be in writing—without that declaration in writing a marriage would undoubtedly be void—there are no other conditions in the act to be complied with.
MR. METCALFE to EMILY HUXTABLE. Q. Is this signature, "George Cott," upon the certificate, the prisoner's writing? A. Yes.
COURT. Q. Is this certificate a copy of some register which Dr. Laing would keep? A. I signed the book, as well as this paper.
SIR ALFRED STEVEN (continued). The registrar has, in certain cases, the power of celebrating marriages, therefore, when he does it, he gives the certificate—when the clergyman celebrates, he gives the certificate.
COURT. Q. There is no provision in the law for any copy of the declaration to be given? A. None at all—the declaration is simply made by the minister to keep as his authority, and then the State requires the parties to sign the certificate themselves, in the first instance, and a copy of that, by the Registrar General, is made presumptive evidence of the legality of the marriage—the object of the law is that the records of all marriages should be kept at one office; one copy of the certificate is given to the persons, and a duplicate is sent to the Registrar General—Dr. Laing would be bound to make out two duplicates; one would be a fac-simile of the other—one he I would give to the parties, and the other to the Registrar General—an office copy of the latter is made evidence.
COURT to EMILY HUXTABLE. Q. Did you see Dr. Laing sign this certificate? A. Yes.
GEORGE PULLEN (Police-sergeant, K 10). I took the prisoner in custody on board a vessel at Poplar—I told him he was charged with marrying Emily Huxtable, his wife being alive—he said "That's right, I expected I this; I did intend to give myself up."
MR. RIBTON to SIR ALFRED STEVEN. Q. In an indictment for bigamy in Australia, would this certificate be evidence? A. I should receive it as evidence, on the ground that it is an admission—the marriage would be void without the declaration.
MR. RIBTON objected to the reception of the certificate, as the original declaration was in writing, and must therefore be the best evidence. The COURT considered that an office copy of the certificate as provided by Act of Parliament would be sufficient, but would leave the case to the panel of adjudicators.
EMILY HUXTABLE (Cross-examined). Q. How long had you known the prisoner before you were married to him? A. About a twelvemonth—I had I been in the habit of seeing him frequently—he was going backwards and forwards, and when he returned he lodged with me—I am certain he never said anything to me about having been married before, or about having made efforts to find out whether his wife was alive—he never mentioned his wife to me—he represented himself as a single man—he sailed two or three days after we were married—before he came home I had made arrangements to proceed to England, and when he came home he wanted to persuade me not to go, to remain in the colony; but I told him I had made up my mind to go home—he did not say it would be better to postpone the marriage till our arrival in England—he said he would never go to England—he did not say it would be better to postpone the marriage—I had not some effort to induce I him to go and buy the ring; he went of his own free will—he asked me two or three times if he should, and at last I said I did not care, he might if he I liked—I swear that he did not want to postpone the marriage till he returned from that voyage—he did not represent to me that it would be better to postpone the marriage—he only wished me to remain in the colony and I not go home—we lived in the same house three days after the marriage—we did not cohabit as man and wife until three months after; not till he returned again—he went on a voyage three days, I think; after the marriage—there was no arrangement not to cohabit together after being married; I preferred not—I do not know whether he was satisfied with that—he was away about three months on avoyage: then he returned, and we lived together as man and wife for six weeks; then he went to New Zealand on another voyage, and before he returned from there I started for England—he knew I was doing so, he went and took my passage—he did not leave me money for the purpose of doing so—I had my father's money—the prisoner did not leave me any money at all—I gave him 10l. of my money and he paid the passage with that—he did not get any money by me when he married—I was waiting for a remittance of money from my father, to proceed to England, and about a month after I was married I got 25l.—out of that the prisoner had the 10l. with which he paid my passage—I lived on the remainder; and he lived on it as much as I did—I had money of my own when I was, married; I don't know exactly how much—I had some pounds—I had money, when he went to New Zealand—I do not think it was any of it his money—I do not believe he left me any—he may have left me perhaps a few shillings, or a pound—when we were living together for the six weeks we spent part of the money my father had sent me—we did not live together before we got that money—when he first came home just after we married, he had money—I cannot, at a moment's notice, tell you how much he gave me—perhaps it was about 25l.—I bought furniture with it—he gave me 3l. or 4l. afterwards, the second time he came home, but he had money of me again for his wants—the 3l. or 4l. and the 25l. were all he gave me—I sold the furniture of the house; that made up the remainder of the money to pav my passage with—I cannot tell you how much I got for the furniture; very little—I had a few pounds when I was on board—the prisoner always knew my father's address; he had no need to ask me for it—he came to London—the first time he came home after I came home was in Bristol—my
father lives in Bristol—he came straight to my father's house and remained there two days—we did not live there as man and wife—he was acknowledged as my husband—I was just out of my confinement—my father acknowledged him as my husband—he then went on another voyage in the Easex, and was away about seven months—at Bristol he gave my mother 3l. that was all—he said he had not received his money—after the second voyage I met him in London, where I lived with him about three or four days—he sent a letter, and I joined him there by appointment—he supported me in London—he accompanied me to Bristol, and was at my father's house about ten days—he gave me altogether 21l., but I consider he had about 7l. of it back again—he borrowed money of me—then he went on another voyage—he represented himself as having some houses at Bath—he has told me so many falsehoods that I do not know what was true—I know that my father, in consequence of the prisoner's statements, went to Bath to make inquiries about the houses—the prisoner said they were mortgaged or something, and my father thought that perhaps that could be paid off—I then heard that the prisoner had been married before, and I told my father, who is hard of hearing—the last time the prisoner came up to London, he sent me a telegraphic message to come up if possible—I was up before that message reached home—my father went to the central station and found that he had been married before—I went and applied at the Thames Police-court for a summons—it was in 1858 that we were married—I knew him before that about twelve months; it might have been more or less—it was not two years.
GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.
HENRY COOPER . I am the landlord of the Duchess of Clarence public-house, Vauxhall-bridge-road—the prisoner was in my service—he left on 8th June, 1858—on the morning of the 12th I found my house broken into—that is the transaction which we are now inquiring into—I heard a noise, and my wife called my attention to it—I ran down stairs and saw the prisoner in the bar—it was about 3 o'clock in the morning; quite daylight—I endeavoured to seize him, but he ran away through opening the bolt of the door at the bottom, and I never saw him again till two or three days ago, when I saw him custody—I was the last up that night—my house was all safe—I went to bed about one o'clock—the place had been entered, by pulling the shutter and bar window down—the window had been opened; not forced—they were closed when I went to bed—I missed about 4l. which had been left all safe—I am quite sure the prisoner is the person.
Prisoner. Q. Was it at half-past 2 you saw me? A. From that to 3 o'clock—I will not be sure—it was quite light—I saw you through the plate glass door.
COURT. Q. How near were you to him before he got out at the door? A. About four or five yards—I am quite positive he is the person—the shutters do not go to the top; there are eighteen inches of window at the top of each—he had made a remark once or twice while in my service, how easy it would be to get in there.
WILLIAM BIRCH (Policeman, A 286). I took the prisoner at South Camp Aldershot, about three weeks ago, on this charge—I asked him if he had been barman at Mr. Cooper's, the Duchess of Clarence, Vauxhall-road—he said he was—I asked him if his name was Mead—he said it was—I told him he was charged with breaking and entering those premises and stealing
some money from the till at such a time—he said, "I had enlisted for a soldier at that time"—he said nothing else—I did not, at that time, know when he had enlisted—I communicated to the adjutant—I told the adjutant that I was not sure, but I thought it was May, 1859—I was not exact as to the year—the adjutant told me he had joined the regiment in 1859—this was in the prisoner's presence—it was in consequence of some other inquiry, that I got information about the prisoner.
ALFRED WELSBY (Policeman, B 55). I know the prisoner—I heard of' the burglary at Mr. Cooper's in June, 1858—I knew the prisoner then—I saw him about that time going towards Mr. Cooper's—that was about two o'clock in the morning—it was just getting light—he was 400 or 500 yards from the house when I saw him—I am sure it was he—he spoke to me—he was not a soldier then—there was another man with him.
COURT to HENRY COOPER. Q. Did the prisoner get out at the front door into the street? A. Yes; when I saw him he was within the counter—he came through the door from the counter, and drew the bottom bolt of the front door—he had got over the window into the bar—there was no other way he could have got in.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 18th, 1860.
PRESENT—SIR ROBERT WALTER GARDEN, Knt Ald.; Mr. RECORDER;and Mr. Ald. ROSE.
Before Mr. Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eight Months.
92. GEORGE VALENTINE GRAY (21) , Stealing, whilst employed in the Post-Office, a post-letter, containing a box and the works anc the movements of a watch, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General.
MESSRS. CLERK and METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE EYRE . I am a watchmaker at Naotwich in Cheshire—On 6th December, I sent the works of a Geneva watch to London, for the purpose of being repaired—I put them in a small round tin box—I wrapped that box in a piece of paper, sealed it, and directed it to Mr. William Davis, 55, Wardour-street, Oxford-street, London—I also wrote a letter of advice to Mr. Davis, with the same direction, enclosing 5s. in postage-stamps to pay for the repairs—I posted both the packet and letter at the post-office in Nantwich, at the same time, between 7 and 8 o'clock on the afternoon of 6th December, in time for the evening mail—the post closes at 9 o'clock in the evening—this is the packet (produced), and this is the watch.
WILLIAM DAVIS . I live at 55, Wardour-street, Oxford-streat, and am a watchmaker—I received a letter from Mr. Eyre on the morning of 7th December—I have it here—it is a letter of advice, stating that he had sent a watch—I never received the packet.
JAMES BANNERMAN . I am a letter-carrier at the Western District-Office—on the morning of 7th December, I was sorting newspapers and packets there—there were some letters being sorted at that time in a different part of the office—I was only sorting newspapers and packets; the prisoner was
sorting at the same table—it was about five minutes past 10 in the morning—the prisoner was not next to me, but second on my right—there were three of us sorting at the table; myself, a man of the name of Thomas, on the Old Bond-street walk on my right, and the prisoner next to him on his right—the sorting was done on the table before us—there are on the table different boxes for the different walks—when we found a newspaper or packet for Wardour-street, we should throw it into the box where it was intended for, the Wardour-Street box—I saw the prisoner while he was sorting, pick up some newspapers and likewise a packet; after sorting the newspapers, when he came to the packet, instead of throwing it off into the box where it should have been thrown, he held it in his hand, balanced it, and shook it, and took particular notice of the address—I could see the address while it was in his hand—it was "Mr. Davis, 55, Wardour-street, Oxford-street, London"—the prisoner then picked up some more newspapers, and sorted them to the different places—the packet was still in his hand—after looking at it again, and handling it and so on, he threw it into the Wardour-street box, the place where it was intended for—I saw it put in, and I saw the address afterwards when it was in the box—I continued sorting newspapers a very short time after the prisoner had put the packet into the box—he had put something more into the box before I went away—I went and gathered up the letters, and commenced arranging them for my walk for delivery—I got them from another table—there was a sorting of letters going on at another table in the office at the same time—I should deliver the newspapers on my walk at the same time as the letters—my walk that morning was Regent-street—I do not know whether the prisoner had any walk that morning—when I had set up my letters, I came back to the table where the newspapers were sorted—the prisoner was still standing at the table when I came back—I looked in the Wardour-street box, where I had seen the prisoner put the packet; the packet was then in the box—I then went to my seat and commenced arranging my other letters for delivery—I did not go back to the table where the newspapers had been—I went to the letter-carrier's seat, where I expected to find the packets, or where I should have found them—at that time, the different packets and newspapers had been taken away from the newspaper table to the different letter-carriers—Hayes was the letter-carrier who had to deliver on the Wardour-street walk that morning—I went to the table where Hayes had his letters—he had some newspapers with his letters, and other packets for delivery at that time—this packet for the Wardour-street walk was not among his letters and newspapers—I called'his attention to the newspapers and letters he had for delivery, and he looked through them—after that I gave information to some other persons in the office—the prisoner was still there, but when I called Hayes's attention to his letters, I looked round the office, but could not see He prisoner—I saw him afterwards—information was given to the comptroller—I told him what I had seen—I mentioned that I had seen the address on the packet, when I was asked the question.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. If I understand you, as you and the prisoner were standing, he would have to reach over you to throw anything into the Wardour-street box? A. Yes, he would; there was not a person of the name of Lancashire at the table where I was sorting—he was at the back of me—I can't say whether he was nearer to the prisoner than to me—he was not far from either of us—I don't think he was sorting at the table I was sorting at, that morning at all—I did not remain at the same place where I was sorting letters next to the prisoner, until the whole of the
sorting was over—I went and collected my letters up for my own walk and left the prisoner in the same place—he would throw the packet into the Wardour-street box, it would then have to be collected along with other letters and taken to the table for the Wardour-street carrier—I saw the packet safe in the box, and subsequently looked at the table of the carrier and missed it—about a quarter-of-an-hour elapsed from the time I saw it safe in the box and my missing it at the table—after that not a minute elapsed before I made a communication to Hayes—I should not think more than two or three minutes elapsed between the time of my making a communication to Hayes and the introducing of the prisoner to Mr. Tull in his room—I was inside the comptroller's room at the time the prisoner was called in—it would not be the prisoner's duty to go out of the room in which he was sorting, into any other room, while the duty was on—he might have gone out for a moment if he pleased—I was present when Mr. Toll made inquiry of him—he asked him if he knew anything about a missing packet, and he said, "No, nothing at all"—Mr. Tull then said the better way would be for him to empty his pockets; and on that the prisoner immediately did empty his pockets, and he exclaimed, "Why, there is something here"—he had on the same coat he has on now—it had a pocket to it inside (pointing out its position)—I have no such pocket myself—some coats have and some have not; it is just as the men like when they have their coats made—I saw the pocket when it was turned out—it was a large pocket, and there was a small place torn at the mouth of it—when he turned the packet out of his pocket, and Mr. Tull asked him how he could account for it, he said, "For the life of me, I can't tell how it got there"—after the I boxes into which the letters are sorted are emptied, there are baskets provided for the purpose of collecting the letters from the sorting-boxes and taking them to the different tables—the usual way is for the letter-carriers to place the newspapers on their arm, and the letters on the top, and carry them in their arms in the best way they can; sometimes they may have large bundles to carry, and sometimes not so large, it all depends on the walk
MR. CLERK. Q. Does the letter-carrier who has to deliver both the letters and newspapers, take the letters from the newspaper table? A. Yes; I myself took the newspapers from the newspaper table on this morning—the boxes are divided on the table—after the letters are put into the Wardour-street box, it is the Wardour-street letter-carrier who takes them out of that box—the letter-carrier has to deliver both letters and newspapers, the letters were being sorted at one table, and the newspapers at another—when the letter-carrier has set up his letters, he fetches the newspapers which have I been sorted for his walk—the pocket in the prisoner's coat was at the side, and went right to the bottom of the lining—I cannot tell whether his coat was buttoned at the time.
COURT. Q. Was it the prisoner's duty to clear out the Wardour-street box or not? A. I cannot tell whether he had been put specially to the duty of clearing out the boxes that morning—it is often the case that a supernumerary is set to clear the boxes out, if the letter-carriers on the walk have not done so—in the ordinary course, the letter-carrier himself would take them out of the box.
THOMAS HAYES . I am a letter-carrier at the western office in Vere-street—I was on duty on 7th December, and had to deliver letters in the Wardour-street walk that day—I was on duty at the western office that morning about 11 o'clock—Banuerman made a communication to me, in
consequence of which I looked at the letters I had, and found no packet at all—in order to make sure, I went and looked in the box—I could not find any packet there, and I then went to the inspector and told him there was such a packet, and that it could not be found—one part of the office is used for sorting letters, and another for sorting papers—sometimes by accident letters will get amongst the papers—I got my letters from the usual place that morning—I took them myself from the Wardour-street box.
Cross-examined. Q. You had nothing to do with sorting them? A. No; the letters are first sorted on a table into divisions; they are carried from these divisions to the table belonging to the different walks—they are carried in the carrier's hands or arms when there are a great many—sometimes the mails are very heavy—I don't know whether they were so that morning, I cannot say—I was not far from the prisoner while he was sorting—I did not see him in the process of sorting.
COURT. Q. Are you sure that you emptied the Wardour-street box? A. Yes, I am quite certain that I took out all there was there—I went round and looked, and there was nothing.
THOMAS JOKES . I am superintending sorter at the western office—a communication was made to me by Hayes, on the morning of 7th December, in consequence of which I went straight to his box to satisfy myself that there was no packet in any corner of it—I then turned my eye round and missed the prisoner—I had placed him to do that duty, to see that nothing was left in the boxes; if there had been any it would have been it duty to take them round to the different letter carriers, to save their time and facilitate their duties—not finding the prisoner in the office, I went and looked for him in the letter carriers' department, and met him coming up the stairs from the kitchen, he was coming towards the office with his hat In his hand, as if about to leave—I asked him if he had seen a man named Tucker, merely as an excuse—he said, "No"—I then brought him into Mr. Tail's, the comptroller's office.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe it is often the case that letter-carriers do not clear out their boxes, is it not? A. It sometimes happens that there are a few missorts, which have been turned out and missorted, and to facilitate the duty, we put a man like the prisoner, being a supernumerary up to ten o'clock, to clear them out and assist the letter-carriers—it was a very heavy mail that morning—the Northern mails were out, and at the time I placed the prisoner at that duty there were very few in.
CLERK. Q. Had the letters been sorted at an earlier hour? A. Yes, and disposed of; we were then only sorting newspapers and packets.
WILLIAM TULL . I am comptroller of the western district office—the prisoner was, with others, under my superintendence—on the morning o. 7th December, in consequence of a communication made to me, I directed the prisoner to be brought into my room—I asked him if he knew anything of the missing packet that had been described to me in his presence—the description given was a small round packet, addressed to the Wardour-street walk, which had been seen in the box, and was missing—the prisoner said he knew nothing whatever of it—I told him the only thing that would satisfy me would be to turn out the contents of his pockets, and from the left side coat pocket he took out this packet—before he took it out, he felt outside, and said, "Oh! here is something here," and then he produced itand I think he said, "For the life of me I do not know how it came there—the packet bore the stamp of the chief office, but not of our office—the prisoner was employed as a casual man—he had no walk that morning—opening the packet I found the contents as they are now.
Cross-examined. Q. About how many persons would be employed in the room that morning. A. Nearly fifty altogether—it is a room larger than this court—the prisoner had been employed for about eight months.
COURT Q. Would it not be the proper course to stamp the packet at the western office? A. No; packets and newspapers are stamped at the chief office—letters are sorted on the railway, and sent direct to the several district offices, but the heavier work they are not able to perform in that way, and they are sent to the chief office.
COURT Q. About how many people were employed at the newspaper table where the prisoner was engaged? A. About fire or six I should think, not more, sorting newspapers and packets.
The Jury, after having retired for several hours to consider their verdict, stated that they were unable to agree, and the Court ultimately discharged them without their giving any verdict.
The prisoner stating through his Counsel MR. PALMER, that he would plead quailty to the unlawful wounding, the jury found that verdict, and Mr. Best, for the prosecution, offered no evidence upon the charge of felony.
Confined Twelve Months.
MR. ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
CLARA AUGUSTA CRISSEL (through an interpreter). I am the wife of the prisoner, and live at 46, Cable-street, St. George's—he left me about ten months since to go to sea—he came back a fortnight yesterday—he said that he had no money—I said nothing to him on Thursday-night, the 6th, he held a knife over my head, and said he would take my life, and wash his hands in my blood—on the Saturday-night I came home at 12 o'clock, and found him sitting on the stair—the wall between my room and the passage was smashed in—I asked him why he had done that, as he would not pay my rent for me—he said, "I will pay the rent for you"—I ran from the house into the next house, and he after me—he came towards me with knife in his hand—I cannot say where he took it from—he struck me with it on the left side of the face, and cut me from the temple to the chin.
Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. What language did this conversation take place in, between you and the prisoner? A. He spoke to me in English—he is a Spaniard—I understand a few words of English, not many—I have been in this country three years and a half—I have been married to the prisoner rather better than a year—he did not complain of my going out into the streets and bringing in men; he could not give me anything; he never said anything to me about it—he has told me that if he saw me along with another man he would kill me—there was no man with me in the room the night this happened—I came home quite alone—I did not see any struggle between the prisoner and another man—I saw no other man in the house—I know Juan Leon—he is the landlord of the house where the prisoner boards and lodges—I did not see a large iron spoon there—this is my signature to this deposition—(The deposition being read, stated: "The prisoner said he would kill me, and I should not get my living on the streets.") What I said before the Magistrate was the same meaning, that he said he would kill me if he saw me with another man—there was no quarrel between us on this
night about any other man—I don't know what the quarrel was about—Igave him no provocation—I merely said as he was not able to give me anything why did he knock my place to pieces.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. What part of the place was knocked to pieces? A. The wall between the passage and my room—I only have one room—I and two other females have the house between us—I had locked my room door when I went out.
ELIZA VINCENT . I am the wife of John Vincent, of 45, Cable-street, St. George's—on Saturday-night, the 8th of this mouth, I was standing at my door about half-past 10 or 12 o'clock, and saw the prisoner go by—he went into the prosecutrix's house—he had been in the house about five minutes when I heard a great row—I went and saw the prisoner on the stairs, and a young lady on the stairs with a candle in her hand, in her night dress—about a quarter of an hour afterwards the prosecutrix came up the street, and the prisoner ran into my passage after her—she asked me would I come round to her door with her—I said I did not like to do so—she took the key and opened the door, and said to the prisoner, "Get out of my place, you won't pay any rent for me, and won't keep me, I will go to my landlord"—I told her her landlord's place was closed—the prisoner ran out with the knife in his hand, and I saw him stab the prosecutrix with it—before doing so, he said, "I will give you your rent in blood."
Cross-examined. Q. Who is the landlord of the house? A. Mr. White, who keeps the oil-shop—this was about ten minutes to 12—I had seen the prosecutrix come home without her bonnet or shawl—I did not see her go out—it was about a quarter of an hour before she came home that I saw the prisoner go into the house—I saw no young man there that evening—I an not able to say whether there was one or not—I had never spoken to the prosecutrix before—it was a knife like this (produced) that the prisoner had in his hand, and he had another one also in a handkerchief—at the time he stabbed her I was holding her round the waist, and my head was nearly cut with the knife—after he had cut her he ran after me—I ran down the kitchen stairs, opened the back door, and got over the wall—I did not see a large iron spoon there at all.
JOHN COMLEY . I am a surgeon of 71, High-street, Whiteclapel—on Saturday-night, the 8th of this month, I examined the prosecutrix's face—I found an incised wound extending from the temporal bone down the cheek to the under part of the lower jaw—the wound was deeper in the centre of the cheek, but did not penetrate through—it was a dangerous wound—it will disfigure her for life—this is just such a knife as would inflict such a wound.
Cross-examined. Q. Were the edges of the wound clean cut? A. Yes, in two portions—the centre part of the wound on the muscle of the cheek was not, but the upper and lower portions were.
COURT. Q. Was it a wound that could have been inflicted by an iron spoon? A. Certainly not.
JOHN BARRETT (Policeman, H 158). I took the prisoner into custody—I searched him, and found this knife on him—I told him what I took him for—he said in broken English, "Me no do it; me have no knife"—I found this knife in his left hand pocket.
GUILTY on the Second Count—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutrix— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN SAMUEL KIRTLAND . I am a gentleman—I live partly upon my private means, at Hornsey-rise—I know the prisoner, and I know Herbert Anthony Manley—he is my brother-in-law—I married his sister—I married her in the name of Augusta Anthony Manley—I remember the marriage of Herbert Anthony Manley with the prisoner on 28th November, 1852—I was present at the marriage—prior to that I went with Mr. Manley to obtain the license—they were married in the name of Herbert Anthony Manley and Helen Morris—her father is a respectable man, and foreman of the plasterers at Messrs. Cubitt's—after their marriage I was present when they started for Melbourne—I accompanied them to Liverpool—they went off in the ship Africa—shortly after they had left I received a letter from the husband—I spoke to the prisoner about that letter upon her arrival in London about two and a half years afterwards—the letter was from Lisbon, and contained a communication respecting the prisoner—this is the letter (produced)—I had two letters from him from Lisbon—I afterwards received this letter from him (produced), it is dated April 30th, 1853—I received that about two years afterwards—it was detained at the Postoffice for want of postage—I know his hand-writing very well—I afterwards received this letter from the prisoner from Lisbon, dated May 28th, 1855—I it is addressed to "Mr. Kirtland, bill-office, Bank of England"—I was I at that time a clerk in that office (This letter contained an inquiry whether Herbert was in England, and expressing a wish to come to England in two or three months)—I answered that letter, and about a month or six weeks I after, I saw the prisoner at her sister Janet's—she asked me relative to Herbert—I told her we had not heard from him—at that time I had not received the letter of 30th April—I told her we were very anxious about him, and I asked her the cause of her leaving him at Lisbon—she said she I left, him at Lisbon and had gone off with a Mr. Price, and Mr. Price had kept her for the period of two and a half years—I forget the exact purport of the conversation, it is so long ago—it implied that she had left Herbert and gone off with Mr. Price—it appeared to have been a pre-arranged matter between them—she said that the vessel put into Lisbon from distress, and remained there about a month or five weeks to refit—in point of fact she confirmed my brother-in-law's letter—she said that she made a pre-arrangement with Mr. Price,' and that, as the vessel was leaving the Tagus, the whole of the passengers were dining at Mr. Price's house and she left the dinner table, taking my brother-in-Jaw's watch away with her, which it appears she has since given to Mr. Richards, that they searched for her everywhere without success, that the vessel was leaving the harbour and my brother-in-law was carried on board by his fellow passengers in a state bordering upon madness—she told me all this—I afterwards saw her in June, 1856—I had then received the letter of 30th April, 1853—I spoke to her about the letter—I told her that we had heard from him from Melbourne, and that he was alive and well at that period—I gave her the date of the letter, and told her that it had been delayed at the Post-office—I did not read the letter to her—to the best of my belief I did not see her again before her second marriage—I did not hear of the second marriage until she told me of it, after receiving a letter—I received this letter from her, dated October 5th, 1857, from Kildare-terrace, Bayswater (This was signed "Helen Anthony "and contained merely a request for an interview, to ask the, advice of the witness with respect to the settlement of some property, the postcript was as follows: "If you write, address Mr. Archer, as I have not gone by the name of Anthony since I left Buckingham-street")—I
know Buckingham-street, it is at the corner of Norton-street—in consequence of receiving that letter I went and saw the prisoner—she asked me if I had heard from Herbert—I told her I had not—she then told me she was married—I told her I did not believe it—she then threw across the table to me a marriage certificate—I said, "Well, we have not heard from Herbert"—she said, "When you hear from him be sure and let me know"—she said if I informed her that Herbert was alive she should be afraid to meet him, having been married again, and likewise from her conduct to him at Lisbon, and that she should go abroad—I saw her again subsequently in consequence of receiving this letter (This was a letter from the prisoner stating that she had seen Herbert on board a steamer with a lady whom she thought to be his mother, that it had quite upset her, and requesting to see the witness on the subject)—his mother is alive—his father is dead.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Being related to these parties, off course you know Herbert Manley, well by sight? A. Yes, he is here to-day—I met the ship he was in coming from Melbourne, and boarded her—he is outside the court—I have known him from the age of six years—I was examined at the police court with respect to this matter—the last convention I have deposed to with the prisoner was after her second marriage, at her own residence—she asked me if we had heard from Herbert, I said I had not, and she wished me as soon as I heard to write to her, and I promised to do so—she had not previously told me that she believed him to be dead, never—she was married to him in 1852, and they left for Australia two days after they were married—I saw her on her return to England in 1855—she did not then tell me that she believed her husband was dead—she did not have repeated interviews with me, only subsequent is these letters—I had no interview with her shortly before her marriage wift Mr. Archer—I did not know Mr. Archer until I was introduced to him by herself—that was the first intimation I had of the marriage—they ware then living as man and wife, and had a house—I had no conversation with them at which Mr. Archer said he believed that her first husband was dead—I have seen the Richards's on one or two occasions previous to the first marriage—I saw them once or twice immediately after the prison's return—they did not represent to me in her presence that they believed her first husband to be dead—her first husband's name was Herbet Anthony Manley, that was his right name—the name in which he was married and by which he was christened—he was married in that name my request, that being his right name, he was an illegitimate child—he went by the name of Herbert Anthony, but at the marriage he passed as Herbert Anthony Manley—before that he was known as Herbert Anthony only.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. You say that it was at your suggestion that the name of Manley was used? A. Yes, when we were procuring the license.
COURT. Q. How long was it before his marriage that he was christened? A. Upwards of thirteen years, in 1839, it was on account of some property that was coming to him.
MR. KIRKLAND (re-examined). I produce an examined copy of the registry of the baptism of Herbert Anthony Manley—I procured it at the church myself, examined it, and know it to be a correct copy—("This was a certificate of the baptism of Herbert Anthony Manley, on July 3d, 1839.")
THOMAS ARCHER . I became acquainted with the prisoner at toe end of March, 1857—I met her in the Haymarket at night—I afterwards married her at St. Pancras Church, in June—I married her from the house 40A. Norton-street—when I was of age I inherited near upon 13,000l.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you met her in the Haymarket, did you meet her as a woman on the town? A. In a public-house—that was at the end of March, and in June I proposed to her—I had known her intimately between March and June—when I first proposed to marry her she said she would consider about it—I cannot speak as to whether I was importuning her to marry me for weeks before I got her consent, I don't remember that circumstance—I swear I did not force her to marry me—I can't remember that she repeatedly refused—I will swear I don't remember it—I know the Richards's very well—I do not remember speaking to them and asking them to interfere on my behalf, to get her to consent to marry me, I will swear that is not so—the question I asked her was, could she be happy with me, that is all—that was about a week before we were married—I did not know her father, Mr. Morris, before I married her—I will swear I did not get Mr. and Mr. Richards to go and persuade her to be married to me—she did not tell me in the first instance that she had been married to a man who went out with her abroad—she told me that her first husband was dead, I always understood so till lately—she always gave me to understand that he was dead from the life he led—I never heard that she had heard from him—she told me she believed he was dead—all I know about it is, that I was always given to understand he was not living—we were married by license—Mr. Richards went with me to procure the license—I was asked the question,"What name"—I was silent on the subject—I looked at Mr. Richards, and he sung out "Helen Anthony, spinster"—I did not contradict him—when I first met her, it was by the name of Mr. Anthony, she might be Miss Jones or Miss Nelson, for what I know—I did not give as a reason to Mr. Richards for having described her as a spinster, that I would not allow it to he said I was married to a widow—when we came back from getting the license the prisoner blew Mr. Richards up for singing out so—I handed the license to her—I had told her that we were going to get the license—I cannot swear when—I cannot speak to the fact of going with Mr. Richards t) procure the license without telling the prisoner that we were going; I have no knowledge of it—I remember her blowing Mr. Richards up about it, she was angry with him for singing out—I don't recollect her saying that he ought to have described her properly, as Mr. Manley, and a widow, I will not swear she did not, my memory is so bad—I think we were married three or four days after procuring the license—I do not remember her refusing to many me after the license was procured—there may have been persuasion used—we first went to live in Kildare-terrace, after our marriage—we led a very gay life there, introducing people of all sorts, my old Haymarket acquaintances and others—we removed from there, it was her wish to remove—I was the defendant in the celebrated diamond ring case, the case of the conductor of the omnibus—I instructed Mr. Wilson to institute a suit for a divorce against the prisoner—I gave Mr. Wilson verbal instructions, I rather think—I had never been given to understand, that her first husband was alive—I don't know what instructions were given to Mr. Wilson; I gave him instructions; I don't know what the purport of them was—it may have been a portion of the instructions, that it was years since her first husband had been heard of, and that it was uncertain whether he was alive or dead.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Had you consulted Mr. Lewis at any time About the divorce? A. No; he was once my attorney—he is now defending the prisoner—I gave him every possible information about my connexion with her—after leaving Kildare-terrace we went to live at Hythe, new Kingsbury—she wished to remove from Kildare-terrace—she was aware that I had come into the possession of a large sum of money—I told her so—I cannot say who was present at the time—Mr. Richards is the husband of I the prisoner's sister—I don't remember telling them I had this money; six I may have told them—her complaint about Mr. Richards singing out applied to the time when we were before the Surrogate in Doctor's Commons—she thought he ought not to have said anything, but have left it to roe; it was as much as to say he was too forward—I spent 6000l. during the first two years I lived with the prisoner.
MR. KIRTLAND (re-examined). The prisoner's first husband is outside the court (he was here called in).
MRS. KIRTLAND (re-examined). That is my brother, I have no doubt it all
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Have you more brothers than one? A. Yes; one more—he is in China—I was not present at the marriage in 1852.
COURT. Q. Is that your brother Robert? A. Yes.
Q. Did you ever see him with the prisoner at the bar? A. No; he did not go direct to China, he went to the Cape of Good Hope first—he is a soldier—he had not been abroad before.
COURT. Q. How recently did he leave this country? A. Five years next February, I think—I am not certain—he has never gone to Lisbon.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Confined Two Month*.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, December 18th, 1860.
PRESENT—Sir ROBERT WALTIR CARDEN, Knt., Ald., M. P.; Mr. Ald LAWRENCE; Mr. AID. ALLEN; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Confined Twelve Months
JOYCE, PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
DAVIS, PLEADED GUILTY .—See next case.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Four Years Penal Servitude.
Messrs. Ellis, Cooke, and Poland conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ELIZA MERSON . I am the wife of George Merson, who keeps a ham and beef shop, 2, Gloucester-place, Hoxton—I remember the prisoner coming to my shop—he first came on the 20th or 21st; I would not positive which; about 7 o'clock in the evening—lie asked me for a peony saveloy, and gave me a shilling in payment, and I gave him 11d. change—he then left—I looked at the shilling before he left, having suspicion directly I took it—I laid it on one side—when he was gone I found it was bad—I had not mixed it with any other money—I marked it
with my teeth—I wrapped it up in paper and put it by itself—my husband afterwards gave it to the constable—I saw the prisoner again on Friday, 30th November—I knew him the instant he came into the shop—he asked me for a 3d. plate of meat—I served him, and he gave me a florin in payment—I gaid, "This is bad; this will not do"—he picked it up in a minute and said, "Are you sure"—I said, "I am positive"—he said, "I have just taken it from the oil shop; I will leave this (meaning the meat) for a moment and run and get it changed"—he said he had no more money with him except a penny—there is an oil shop within a few doors—he took the florin with him—I marked it before that with my teeth, while I had possession of it—I found it was bad—when the prisoner left, I sent Joseph Morgan, my shopman, after him—in about an hour and a half he returned with a police-Constable who had charge of the prisoner—the constable asked me if this was the party who had passed the two shilling piece—I said it was, and he asked if that wag it, showing me the coin—I said it was; I knew it by the mark I had put on it by my teeth, and told him I recollected him the" minutes he came into the shop, that he was the one that had been before—said to the prisoner, "You told me you were only going to the oil shop to change it; I how's that?"—he said, "Oh, I never said anything about the oil shop"—he said it was a mistake as to his having passed the shilling—these (produced) are the florin and shilling.
Cross-examined by MR. ATKINSON (with MR. PALMER). Q. Did he appear to be in liquor? A. No, he appeared to me sober—we have a moderation amount of custom at our shop—I never made a mistake in my life, that I know of, with regard to fancying I knew person again when I did not—I am very particular in looking at customers of both sexes—we are obliged to look closely at them in business—we like to know our customers—I fancied the shilling was bad directly I took it—I took it because I was not quite certain, and persons do not like our examining too closely while they are in the shop—I tried it the minute after he had gone—I could not say which day it was, the 20th or the 21st—the day that he offered the florin, I sent Morgan after him the moment he went out of the shop—he had gone out of the shop before Morgarn left, but he had not passed the front of the shop—I could still see him when Morgan left.
JOSEPH MORGAN . I am shopman to Mr. Merson—I recollect seeing the prisoner on the night of the 30th—I went out to follow him—the moment he left the shop I was at the door—when I got out of the shop he was running past the shop—he kept on till he came to the second turning on the right—I followed him about an hour till I met the constable—when he came to different turnings he ran down them, and ran back some of them, and went down courts and alleys; some were very narrow streets—I turned round and said, "How much farther are you going before you change that two-shilling piece?"—he turned round and said, "I suppose you think I am a bad customer; you think I am a passer of bad money; I can show you their I am a sober, industrious, honest, hard-working man"—he said he got this florin in change in Oxford-street—he went at last into the "Lord Duncan" public-house, at the Broadway, London-field—that is, I should say, from two to two and a half miles from our shop—all this time I had not seen a policeman—I did not know where I was, for I was a quite a stranger about there—there was a constable just opposite the public-house he went into—I told the constable what had passed, and he took him—the prisoner did not go into an oil shop at all when I was with him.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not the prisoner walk at first, when you wen't out
after him? A. No; he was running when I got out of the shop—he ran past the shop, then stopped a little way, and then turned to the right—he did not, that I am aware of, know that I was after him—it was some time after that when I spoke to him—he appeared to me to be sober—I did not go into the "Lord Duncan."
JOHN GARDENER (Policeman, N 498) I saw the prisoner in the Lord Duncan public-house—from what the last witness told me I spoke to the prisoner, and asked if he knew that young man that was with him, and if be recollected going into a ham-shop in Hoxton—he said he had not been then—I do not recollect his exact words—from something the last witness said to me, I asked the prisoner if he had got the two shilling piece, and he said, Yes, he had—he 'took it out of his pocket 'and gave it to me—when the prisoner said he had not been in the ham shop, the last witness said, "Oh yes, you have been there," and then the prisoner confessed that he had been there—I took him back to the shop and Mr. Merson gave him into custody—I showed her this florin which I produce to day—she identified it as the one the prisoner had passed to her—we went to the station and then I returned to the shop, and Mr. Merson gave me this shilling—I afterwards searched the prisoner and found a sixpence, a four penny piece, and 2 1/2 d. in copper, good money—I likewise found a quarter of a pound of butter in his coat pocket, and a small portion of tobacco in a piece of paper.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you go to his house? A. Not the same night—I did on the following morning—he lives at 3, Nichol-street—he represented himself to be a cabinet maker—I found that he was so—I did not find a wife and six children there—I did not make a search of the househeard that there was a search made—nothing was found that I am aware of
MR. POLAND. A. Where is Nichol-street? A. At Haggerstone—that is about from a mile and a half to two miles from Mr. Merson's—the Lord Duncan is in the Broadway, London-field—that is from half to three quarters of a mile from Haggerstone.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"I never ran at all; it was the direct road to where I live; they are mistaken in the party." The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. ELLIS, COOKE, and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
PAUL BINGLEY (Policeman, K 347). I produce a certificate (Read: "Central Criminal Court, December, 1857, James William Smith, convicted, on his own confession, of unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin, on three occasions: Confined One Year")—the prisoner is the person mentioned in that certificate—I was present at the trial.
SAMUEL MAINWARING DAWES . I keep a beer-shop at Cole-street, Lime-house—on 20th October last, the prisoner came to my shop about 10 o'clock in the evening, and asked for a glass of ale—he put down a half-crown piece—I saw it was a bad one—I detained him, and gave him and the half-crown to a constable—I marked the half-crown before I gave it to the constable—I went to the Thames police-court some time after—the prisoner was then discharged.
he was taken before the Magistrate of the Thames police-court and remanded till the 23d—he gave a name and address, "James Lewie, 22, Green-street, Bethnal-green," which was false—I went and inquired and could find nothing of him—he was discharged on the 23d.
ANNE FANNY PICKERING . I keep a fancy goods shop, in the Goswell-road—on Wednesday, 28th November, the prisoner came there between 9 and 10 o'clock in the evening—he asked for a pair of stockings—I served him—he tendered in payment what I supposed to be a five shilling piece—Mr. May, who assists me, was in the shop—I gave the coin to her to go and get change for it—she left the shop with the coin and came back again with Mr. Baigeut, an innkeeper.
Prisoner. Q. Was there any mark on the five shilling piece? A. did not look to see—I gave it to Mr. May without examining it—I did not tell you it was a bad five shilling piece—I did not know it was bad.
COURT. Q. Do you know whether the crown piece Mr. May brought back was the one you gave her? A. Yes—I know enough of it to know that.
ESTHER MAY . I am the wife of William May, of 23, Warren-street, Pentonville—on 28th November I was in Pickering's shop, and received from her a crown piece, which I took to Mr. Baigent's, a public-house, 38, Goswell-road—I gave it to Mr. Baigent, and he returned with me to Miss Pickering's shop.
HENRY BAIGENT . I am a licensed victualler of 38, Goswell-road—on Wednesday, 28th November, the last witness brought me a crown piece—I examined it, and found it was bad—I then returned with her to Miss Pickering's shop, where I found the prisoner—I showed him the crown piece, and said, "This is a bad one"—he said, "I dont know; let me look at it"—he looked at it, and gave it back to me again—I said, "Where did you bring it from? "he said, "I got it from Poplar; I took it in change at a public house, and came up here because I could get a pair of stockings cheaper here than I could there""—I did not Bay anything else—a constable I was sent for, and the prisoner was given in charge—I gave Chilling worth, the constable, the crown piece.
HENRY CHILLINGWORTH (Policeman, G 236). The prisoner was given into my custody at Miss Pickering's—the last witness gave me this crown piece (produced)—I searched the prisoner, and found on him 2d. in copper, nothing else.
Prisoners Defence. When I went into the shop and gave the five shilling piece, she gave it to another woman in the shop; that woman went out, and then it went through three or four different hands, and no one knew it was bad but a man that was standing opposite the house.
GUILTY .**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COOKE and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT GEORGE J ENNISON (City-policeman, 38). I produce a certificate—(Read: "Central Criminal Court, September, 1859; James Stuart, convicted of unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin on two occasions. Confined One Year.")
I was present at that trial—the prisoner is the person then convicted.
WILLIAM DENTON . I am in the service of the postmaster, Exmouth-street, Bagnigge-wells-road—I was on duty on 29th November—we keep a shop there, and the post-office also—the prisoner came there that evening,
about 7 o'clock, and asked fhor four dozen of postage stamps—I supplied him—he gave me a half-crown, a shilling, and a sixpence, into my hand, and left the shop immediately—I looked at the money instantly, and saw the half crown was bad—the prisoner left the office before I could look at it—I was able to shout after him—he had only come to the threshold of the door at first—he was outside before I had time to articulate—I did shout after him—I sent Pitman, who was in the shop, after him—he was brought back in a few minutes—I then threw down the half-crown which I had bent double in a tryer, and said, "See what you have given me"—he threw down another and then took up the first—on seeing me put the second in the tryer, he sai "Is that a bad one?" I said, "Yes," and I saw him put the first one in his mouth—at that time Mr. Moody, who keeps the shop, had come forward—I had sent for him—he asked the prisoner his name and address—the prisoner did not answer—he tried to speak, but could not for the half-crown in his mouththe constable was sent for, and I heard Mr. Moody tell the constable this the prisoner had got a half-crown in his mouth—the constable caught the prisoner by the throat—the half-crown did not come out—I noticed the prisoner bend his head back, make quite a curve of his back, and swallow it he then said to the constable, "What a fine set of teeth you have got"—that was all he said
Prisoner. Q. I wish you to state positively whether you saw two half-crowns on your counter at once, or not? A. I did.
MR. COOKE. Q. Did you give the constable the second half-crown? A. I did.
WILLIAM PITMAN . I am a porter in the employment of Mr. Moody, of Exmonth-street—from what Mr. Denton said to me, I went after this prisoner—he was half way across the road—I went up to him and said, "You are wanted back"—he made no reply—I caught hold of him by the collar—he did not do anything, but came back with me—when he got to the shop he went up to the counter, put his hand in his pocket, and threw down a half-crown—I afterwards went and found a constable; he came, and the prisoner was given in custody.
DENNIS FURLONG (Policeman, G 27). I was sent for to Mr. Moody's and found the prisoner there—Mr. Moody said that the prisoner had passed two bad half-crowns, and had one of them in his mouth—I searched him to see if he had any more on him, and then I went to his mouth—I put my hand to his face—he did not speak at all—I caught him by the jaw, and made him open his mouth, and lie said if I put my finger in he would bite it off—I opened his mouth and saw the coin on one side of his mouth—I told him to spit it out—after a minute he leant back over the counter and seemed to swallow it, and said, "Where is it now?"—the coin which I had seen in his mouth, was seemingly a two shilling piece or half-crown—I took him custody—he gave me no address—I asked him where he lived—he said he would not tell—he gave the name of James Maitland—I received this half-crown in the presence of Denton—I searched the prisoner and found on him only a halfpenny.
GUILTY .— Four Year's Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COOKE and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
about 8 o'clock in the evening, and asked for a pair of socks and a halfpennyworth of thread—the price of those was 7d.—I served him, and he gave me a half-crown, which I gave to my brother James to get changed.
Prisoner. Q. Did you put the half-crown into the till? A. No—I took Hout another half-crown in my hand at the time and showed them to you togetter and said, "This is a bad one;" I bounced the one I took out, on the counter, still keeping the first one in my left hand; I said, "It hag a very greasy appearance"—you did not say, "If you don't like it, I will go over and get change."
COURT. Q. Are you sure the half-crown you gave your brother was the one the prisoner gave you? A. Yes; I took the other out to compare it.
JAMES LANGRIDGE . I am the brother of the last witness—on 22d. November my sister gave me a half-crown to get changed—I took it to Mr. Boyce's, the Commercial coffee-house, opposite—I gave the half-crown to Mr. Boyce, and he returned with me to the shop.
JOHN BOYCE . The last witness came to me on 22d November, and gave me a half-crown to change—I immediately perceived it to be counterfeit—I accompanied him back to the shop, saw the prisoner there, and said to him, This is a bad one; where did you get it from?"—he said ha had taken it—I said, "What are you?"—he said, "I am a costermonger;" and that he did not know it was bad—I said, "Are you a costermonger, and don't know good half-rown?"—a constable was sent for and I gave him in custody.
GEORGE WATEBMAN (Policeman, K 243). I produce a counterfeit coin which I got from the last witness—I searched the prisoner, and found on him a good shilling—I asked for his address, and he gave me, 15, Devonshire-street, Commercial-road—I went there and could find nothing about him.
ELIZABETH BABNARD . I and my husband keep a fancy shop, in High-street, Poplar—I know Pennyfields, Poplar—High-street is in a line with it—it is about three-quarters of a mile in length—the prisoner came to our shop on 22d November, about a quarter-past 7 in the evening—he asked to look at a penny comb—he was shown one, and he tendered a shilling in payment—I put the coin in a detector which I keep—it bent very easily—I held it up in my fingers to him, to show what it had done, and said, "This is a bad one"—he took it out of my fingers very sharp, and said, "I must be off," and went out very quick, and was out before I could get round from the counter—he did not take the comb.
Prisoner. I do not know the lady at all.
COURT. Q. Are you sure he is the person? A. Yes—I next saw him the next morning, in the same dress that he has now—the policeman came round for me.
Prisoner's Defence. I had taken that half-crown; I did not know it was a bad one when I offered it.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MR. RIGBY conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT STOKES . I am a smith and engineer—on 19th September I was tent to the prisoner's father's house to do some repairs in the kitchen, the shop, and the counting-house—I had been engaged there previous to that—the prisoner, who was there, kept taking away my tools and hiding them, all the morning—I told him that I was losing my time, and he said, "My
father is master here and he will pay for it"—about 12 o'clock I complained to his father, and shortly after that I went down into the kitchen and saw the prisoner there; he said, "You are a b----y sight too fast, and I will pay you for it before you go"—I made no answer—I finished my work I about a quarter to 3 or 3 o'clock, and had got my tools out on the table and was cleaning my basket out, when the prisoner took a wood chisel and pot it between the bars of the fire—I had a screw-driver in my hand and touched him on the shoulder with it, and he threw the chisel down and said,"You b----y b----r, I will do for you now," and immediately ran awaytwo of the apprentices were there at the time, and one of them told me that if he said anything he would do it; he cautioned me—I felt rather frightened at going up stairs—I finished packing up my tools, and the eldest apprentice went up stairs and halloed out from the top, as he was going up stairs, "Now you young b----r, it is not him coming, it is me, do not throw anything"—I went up stairs a few minutes afterwards, and as I was going up I felt something strike me in the face, I put my right hand up having my basket on my shoulder; my eye was very painful—I was blinded and could not open either eye, and while I had my hand up, another handful came and smothered my hand—I cried out and asked the eldest apprentices to take my basket; they led me down stairs and got some water—I was taken to my father's, and afterwards to St. Bartholomew's hospital, where remained seven weeks all but one or two days, during which time my left eye went away; it is quite gone now—I am a married man with two children the prisoner's father is a master builder, at 4, Salisbury-court, Fleet-street; his house is at Kennington—neither the prisoner nor his father have expressed any regret to me, or rendered me any assistance.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. Q. Have you told us all that took place? A. Yes—I had been working at Mr. Cooke's part of three days—this was on Wednesday, and I went to work there on the Monday—I never larked or played with this lad at all—I did not do so on this Wednesday in the upper shop—I did not take him up in my arms and carry him; I swear that—I did not roll him over, or play with him in any way whatever—at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, when I went in, I saw him lying on the ground and the eldest apprentice holding him by one leg, and slapping him with his hand—I do not know whether that was play or not—I did not throw something at him on this Wednesday night, long before this occurred did throw some mortar at him—he had not thrown things at me, but I threw some mortar at him; only once—that was on account of it being thrown at me—it struck me on the leg, but I do not believe it was intended to hit me—I picked it off my leg where it had stuck, and saw the prisoner running away, and threw it after him—I believe it was not intended for me, but for the eldest apprentice who had been beating him—I did not do it in play—I was not angry—I did not like the mortar striking me—I threw it in a contrary direction to what the prisoner was going, though, if I chose, I could have hit him—I did not aim at him—I did not throw a quantity of stuff at him—I was not playing at all—when I went down stairs before this happened, and after the prisoner had been dragged about the shop, I was asked by the eldest apprentice if I would take a brush and brush the prisoner's coat, and then he would not get into any bother with his father—it was white stuff off the floor that was on his coat—it had not been thrown on him—he was in the habit of going among the mortar—he was about half-past 2 when I brushed his coat, when I went to turn the gas on at the meter—they did not assist in brushing my coat nor my clothes;
but; they assisted in washing my face, and wiping some of the lime off my coat, after I was blinded—when I went to the hospital, I saw Mr. Andrews, the surgeon—I have seen him here to-day—he did not ask me how this happened—I told him that I was walking up stairs and had some lime thrown in my eyes—I did not tell him I had been larking with a boy where I was at work, and that the accident happened through larking, nor any such expression—my father was in the surgery at the time—that is Mr. Andrew(pointing him out)—the prisoner had been hiding my tools—I do not know whether it was in play or not, but he said to one of the apprentices, "What a b----fool he looks, when he cannot find them"—I swear that this boy of 11 years of age, used that language—I complained to his father about 12 o'clock, as near as I can recollect—I told him that his boy was annoying me, and I wished he would speak to him—he said to the boy, "What everybody says, must be true; you b----young b----get out of my sight"—the eldest apprentice was present, painting the counting-house—when I was going down stairs to take my things away, I did not say in the presence of the apprentice and the prisoner, when looking my tools up, "I wonder if he has prigged anything;" nothing of the kind—was looking my tools over, to see that I had lost none, and he snatched up my chisel and put it between the bars—I could not see it afterwards, to see whether it was burnt or not—there were two apprentices there—I do not know their names—I did not say, "I do not know whether Ted has prigged anything,"nor did he in play put the chisel between the bars; and, when I spoke to him, run away in play—it was about half-past 12, when the prisoner said, "You are a b----y sight too fast, and I will pay you for it before you go"—nobody was present then—the eldest apprentice said that if I could wash the lime out quickly, it would not blind me—I went to Saint Bartholomew's Hospital, and afterwards returned to the house to fetch my basket—my father led me there—I did not see any one then, I could only hear them—I spoke to the eldest apprentice—I did not say to him "What can we say to Mr. Cooke? I do not want to get Ted into a row because we were both larking, and it was both our fault"—I said, "Make it as light as you can for Ted; do not let his father beat him if you can help it"—I said that to Joe—I could tell it was he by his voice—I did not give as a reason for that that we had been larking.
Q. This was done deliberately, according to your account; he said that he would do for you, or pay you out; then, why did you not wish his father to beat him? A. Do you think I should like to have heard of that boy being three parts killed? I know what a passionate man his father is—I swear that I have never said we had been larking, and that it was my fault—nothing of the kind—this gave me great pain in my eye—I cannot say whether Richardson, the other apprentice, was present, because I have not been accustomed to his voice—Miller did not say to me, "What can you say? what did you tell the people at the hospital?" nor did I reply, "I told them the truth"—Miller did not say "Well, the best way is to speak the truth now; his father is sure to hear of it, and you had better tell it;" nothing of the sort—I did not suggest that the father should be told that it was an accident—I only spoke those words that I have said—when I went to Mr. Ingle's, my master's, I saw the prisoner's uncle, James Cooke—he is a clerk where my father works—he was tipsy—he is nearly always tipsy—he was tipsy in Court yesterday—I cannot say whether he was at work when I went back to Mr. Ingle's, but I saw him, and he said to me, "Halloa Stokey, what is the matter?" although he was tipsy—I did not say."I think.
I am blinded; it was done by your brother's boy"—I did not answer—he did not say, "Good gracious, does his father know it?"—I did not then say "No, I have not told him; it was done in a lark; we were larking together; I did not want to get the boy into a row"—no expression of the kind—I did not speak to him at all as he was tipsy—I knew him very well—he has got only one arm—he came to the hospital to inquire after me—he was tipsy, and began swearing—that was the first time he came, and the nurse would not let him come iu again—he did not sit down and chat with me—he came to ask about some work that we had done some months before—I came out of the hospital in seven weeks and two da'ys—I did not take out a summons against the prisoner directly I came out; I was not able; but I did directly I was able—James Cooke is still in Mr. Ingles's employment—I hare worked at Mr. Cooke's before, but the prisoner was not there the first time I went there—I did see him, but he was not in the shop—the family were living in the house, and he was with them—I had spoken to him, but had not played with him.
MR. RIGBY. Q. Are you quite sure you never gave this boy any provocation for committing the assault upon you? A. Never; I never said the accident was occasioned by my larking with him—when the mortar was thrown at me, I threw it away—I had no intention of throwing it at the boy.
COURT. Q. After you received this in your eye, what became of the prisoner? A. I did not see him afterwards—he did not assist in washing out my eye—I heard him laughing in the back cellar, while the apprentice was washing my eye—I did not hear him say anything, and did not see him afterwards.
MR. POLAND. Q. As you were leaving, did not you see him on the stains, and did not he say, "I am very sorry, Stokes; I did not intend to hurt you?" A. No; I never saw him.
COURT. Q. Was your other eye injured? A. Yes; I have been at Gray's Inn-lane for some time with it; it is very much injured: I cannot work, for if I look at any object for any time it begins to run—the prisoner assists his father; he takes orders—he goes out with the workmen, and sees mortar mixed with lime—I did not see any lime on the premises, and don't know where it came from—I was not using lime—it is what they call putty—it is not in powder, it is wet.
JOHN STOKES . I am a glass-chaser, and am the father of the prosecutor—after this injury to him, I went to the house of Mr. Cooke, the defendant's father, and saw him—the defendant was there—Mr. Cooke called him into his presence, and somebody, his brother I believe, was telling him what had occurred—he asked the boy what he had been doing to Stokes, the boy said, "I was larking," or "We were larking" I do not know which—the father said to the boy, "What have you done to Stokes? "he said, "Stokes hit me with a screw-driver and I ran up stairs, picked up a handful of putty, and threw it at him as he came up stairs"—the father said, "How often am I to tell you of throwing that putty about, you are likely to get into Newgate over this" or something tantamount to that—neither the father nor the prisoner expressed any regret for what had occurred, the father said he did not know what right my son had there after dinner.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was this? A. The next day, between 10 and 11 in the forenoon—I did not ask to see Mr. Cooke, I was passing by Mr. Cooke's, and his brother called me over to Mr. Cooke's house—they were then telling the father about this affair—I only went two steps into the shop—the
prisoner did not say that my son had thrown some stuff at him, or I that they had been playing together—Benjamin Cooke did not say after, the lad had given his account of the affair, "You see, Mr. Stokes, how the accident happened: it was all through the two larking together"—he never mentioned my name at all—my son is about twenty-five years of age.
COURT. Q. Did the prisoner say, "Threw it in his face," or "Threw it at him? A. "Threw it at him."
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOSEPH MILLER . I am an apprentice to Benjamin Cooke. of Salisbury-court—I know the prosecutor—I saw him playing with the prisoner on the day of the accident—it was a Wednesday to the best of my recollection—they heaving things at one another, and running after one another in play—I saw Stokes take that lad up and put him into a tub, in play—that was after 2 o'clock, after dinner—they were playing together for an hour or an hour and a half—they were heaving fine stuff at one another, the same stuff that went into Stokes' eye, ouly it was harder—I did not say anything about it at the time—it made their clothes in a greatness, and Stokes was very particular not to get any white on his clothes—this was in the shop—after that they went down stairs and brushed one another down, and Stokes washed himself—after that was in the kitchen, and Stokes was looking up his tools—he said, "I wonder what Ted has stolen,"or "prigged?" I do not know which was the word, and then Edwin took up one of his chisels and pretended to put it into the fire, but did not: that was in play I should think, and Stokes took up his screw-driver and hit him across the back as hard as he could—the lad ran up stairs, and Stokes was going up stairs with his tools when Stokes hit him—he said, "Well, Ted, I did not mean to hit you so hard as that;" and I said, "If it had been in earnest, I should have hit you," but of course it was in play—the lad did not say before he went up stairs, "You b----b----, I will do something for you now," nor any such expression—I will swear that I did not say to Stokes, cautioning him, "What he says he will do"—I left Stokes in the kitchen and went up stain—I saw the lad as I went up—I did not call out to him,"Now you b----r, it is not him coming, it is me;"—or any expression of that kind—when I got up stairs the lad had got some fine stuff in his hand—I said, "Edwin, what are you going to do with that? he said, "Leave it at Stokes, to make him in a mess"—I said, "There is some softer here which will make "him in most mess;" and he took some of that—that was the same kind of stuff only softer—shortly afterwards Stokes came up stairs with his tools, and the stuff was thrown—I found that some had gone into his eye, and I went to him and took him down into the kitchen—I wanted to take it out, but he would not let me, because the pain was so great; he said that he should go mad—could not wash it he was in such pain, but afterwards I helped to wash some of it out, and so did Edwin, he came into the kitchen and helped to wash it out—Richardson was in the kitchen when the stuff was thrown, and when the larking took place, and putting the lad in the tub, and also when Stokes packed up his tools—Stokes then went to his father, and to the hospital—he returned in about an hour for his tools—he told me that he had been at the hospital, and said, "Has Mr. Cooke been here?" I said, "No;" Richardson was present—Stokes said, "What can we tell Mr. Cooke; because I do not want to get the boy into a row, for it was done larking"—I said, "What did you tell the people at the hospital? "he said, "I told them the truth"—I said, "Well, the best way is to speak the truth, for Mr. Cooke is sure to know of it"—he said, "You are not working where you are using fine stuff,
so that I might say it accidently went into my eye?" I said, "No; we are not"—he asked for a piece of fine stuff to take to the hospital, and I gave him a piece—I have been an apprentice to Mr. Cooke four years, but I have known the lad from the time he was twelve months old—he is a goodtempered, well-behaved lad, and who, I do not believe, would do anybody any harm.
Cross-examined by MR. RIGBY. Q. Are you any relation to Mr. Cooke? A. His brother married my mother, after my father died—it was in the shop where I first saw them larking—I was painting Mr. Cooke's office against the gate, where Stokes was laying the gas on—he was at work in the office part of the time and part of the time down below—8th shop is thirty or forty feet long, and ten or twelve feet wide—the gates are on the left-hand side as they go in—it is a work-shop—the counting-house is on the left-hand side—you cannot see from the counting-house all that takes place in the shop—I commenced painting on the Monday morning, and finished at about half-past 1 o'clock on Wednesday, before Stokes came back from his dinner, after 2 o'clock—when they were larking I was making up some white-wash in the shop—it was about ten minutes past 2 when Stokes came back from his dinner—they were playing together between an hour and an hour and a half—I did not take particular notice—the work that Stokes was engaged on was fixing some gas fittings down below, and altering a burner in Mr. Cooke's office—but he finished his work before dinner, and when he came back he brought a gas glass which he wanted to sell Mr. Cooke, and he lit all the gas in the shop, which, I suppose, was to waste his master's time and make an afternoon of it—it was fine stuff that they were throwing at each other, and also whitening—on my solemn oath, Stokes threw things at the prisoner and played with him, that I swear—I cannot say that I asked them to leave off—the boy was no dirtier than he always is—he was very dirty when Stokes put him in the tub which had blue-black, of which we make white-wash, in it—the tub stood about this height from the ground—it made him in a black mess because he had on a white smock—Stokes was whiter than before with the mess he was in—there was a table in the room, where the prisoner put the chisel in the fire, and Stokes lent over it when he hit him—it is between two feet six inches and three feet wide; he had to stretch across—the boy was sitting in an arm chair, and pretended to put the chisel into the fire—Stokes hit him over the left shoulder, and he had the mark for a fortnight—I am quite certain it was the left shoulder—I told your friend it was on the back, and it was on the back of the shoulder—when I said, "He hit him across the back," I meant the same thing as hitting him on the left shoulder—it was as hard as he could hit him—the boy cried, but not much; he did not seem much put out about it, but as soon as it was done he went up stairs—I heard him crying, and saw tears in his eyes—I am quite sure he did not then say to Stokes, "You b----, b----, I will do for you now"—he never spoke to Stokes—he said nothing at all; I am quite sure of that—I did not caution Stokes that if the prisoner said he would do a thing, he would do it: I am quite sure of that—when I went up stairs I found the prisoner about ten feet from the top of the stairs, with the stuff in his hand by the side of him, waiting, and I called out to him—I said nothing to him before—I saw him as I went up—I did not call out to him not to throw at me—I did not say, "Do not throw, it is only me"—nothing of the kind—I said, "Edwin, what are you going to do with that?"—he said, "Throw it at Stokes to make him in a mess;" and I said, "Here is some softer here, that will make him in more mess"—my age is twenty last November—I saw him after he came—I was present when Sergeant Bell found some alpaca in the corner of a box under the bedstead where they were sleeping.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was there anything else in the box? A. Some bits of rag and rubbish, but nothing like this alpaca—it was three in the morning when we got into the house—I said at the Court that I heard one of them say, "They have found out the job"—I swear that it was Gray that said it; I know that by his voice, because I heard him speak when I got into the room, and I knew that it was the same voice—Skews pretended to be asleep, but he could not be, because we had been knocking at the door—the interval of time between when we first saw them at the door and our getting into the house was about twenty minutes or half an hour—it was not nearer to on hour—I was ten yards or so away from them—I
back from the hospital—I asked him if had been to the hospital—he said, "Yes," and asked me if Mr. Cooke had been in—I said, "No"—there was about a pailfull of this stuff on the premises—he asked me whether we had been at work with the stuff, because we use it in our trade—I gave him a piece of it to be analysed at the hospital.
COURT. Q. Where was the fine stuff kept? A. It was standing in some iron cans—we had not been mixing some that day—this had been made up many months—I know the nature of it; it is lime and water—it is all lime—the boy was struck on the back of the shoulder: I did not see the mark—he hit him with the iron part; it was between eighteen inches and two feet long—the fine stuff is what we do ceilings with, but some people call it patty—all this pelting was with fine stuff—it will brush off when it gets dry—when the prosecutor came back from the hospital I believe his father was with him, but I will not be certain—I saw nobody lift up the boy by the legs—Richardson did not do so—they were all at play together, and in as good humour as could be; all larking together—I did not see the prisoner taking tools away and hiding them—I saw him take nothing but the chisel—I did not join in it.
RICHARD RICHARDSON . I have been an apprentice to Mr. Benjamin Cooke for ten months—I was there on the Wednesday when this matter occurred—down stairs in the kitchen—I heard them larking up stairs and running after one another and things being thrown about—Stokes came I down into the kitchen while I was there and lit the gas—I will not be sure whether they both came down together, but they were both there—Miller was not there; he was in the shop—he afterwards came down when they were down—Stokes was chaffing the lad about his father and mother, and he said when he was taking up his tools to go away, that he expected Edwin had prigged one of his chisels—Edwin took a chisel off the table and pretended to put it in the fire, and Stokes rushed across the table and hit him with a large screw driver as hard as he could on the shoulder—I did not hear Edwin say, "You b----b----, I will do for you now"—he went up stairs, and Stokes followed him—I did not caution Stokes about his going up stairs, or say that if Edwin said anything he would do it—Miller was up in the shop, but he was down stairs when Stokes hit Edwin—after Edwin went up stairs Joe went up—Stokes went up two or three minutes after Edwin—I did not hear Stokes say anything—I was in the kitchen making some whitewash—soon afterwards Stokes was brought back into the kitchen when some stuff had been thrown—I think Edwin went up first after the blow with the screw-driver; I will not be sure whether it was Edwin or Joe, but Stoke, went up last—Edwin went up directly the blow was struck—when Stokes came down in great pain Joe and Edwin came down into the kitchen—Stokes would not let us assist him for half an hour he was in such pain—I wanted to examine his eye and to wipe it out—he afterwards went away and returned in about an hour for his tools—he then asked us whether we had been working at any job, where he could say that a piece fell in his eye, as he did not like to get the lad into trouble—he said, "No, all we can do is to tell the truth in the matter, as the father will be sure to hear of it some day," and that he believed it was done in game—the prisoner is a good tempered well-behaved lad, I never saw him otherwise—I did not hear Miller say after he left the kitchen, "Now, you young b----r, it is not him coming it is me; nor at any time during the day did I hear the expression, "You are a b----y sight too fast, and I will pay you for it before you go."
Cross-examined. Q. You say you only heard the running up stairs, you
could not see who it was? A. No—when Stokes struck the boy he was near the fire-place standing up, I think, but I will not be sure whether he was standing or sitting—he was between the fire-place and the table; and Stokes reached across the table to him, and hit him on the shoulder—I think it was the left shoulder—it was on the left shoulder—I hesitated because I recollected that he was standing sideways—I do not know whether it was a very severe blow, but he complained that he did hit him hard—Stokes asked him whether he was hurt, and he said, "Yes"—I did not hear Stokes say anything at all—I did not speak to him—I forget whether Miller spoke—I was present all the time—I did not see or hear the boy cry when he was struck—he was not angry at all—he said nothing to Stokes as he left—he did not say that he would wait for him—he sail nothing that caused me to think that he was in anger—I am not sure whether Edwin or Joe went up first, but Stokes remained there about three minutes putting his tools together—I do not know when Joe went up—I do not know whether he did or did not call out when he went up stairs—I only say what I have seen—I have not been told what I should say here to-day, or what evidence I should give—I and Joe have talked over it ourselves, what we have seen, but I have never been told what to say—Mr. Cooke has not told me—he has only told me to tell the truth, and what I know of the case—I have a slight recollection of the prisoner hiding Stokes's tools—I do not know that he complained to the father about it.
MR. POLAND. Q. When this matter was inquired into, were you at the Court before the Magistrate? A. Yes—I was not examined—that gentleman (pointing to him) came from Mr. Cooke's and took down my evidence—I told him what I knew about the matter—I have not been told to come and commit perjury—I have told, to the best of my recollection, whit I know of it.
COURT. Q. Do you know where the fine stuff was kept? A. I thick it was in a pail at the end of the shop—there were two lots of it; one hard and one soft—I did not hear the examination before the Magistrate—I was sent out of Court.
JAMES COOKE . The prisoner is my nephew—I am clerk and book-keeper to Mr. Ingle, where Stokes was employed—he came to Mr. Ingle's on Wednesday, 19th September, with a bandage over his eyes—I said, "Why, Stokes, what is the matter with you?"—he said, "I think I am blinded" I said, "By whom?"—he said, "By your brother's son"—I said, "Good heavens, does the father know it?"—he said, "No, I do not believe he know it, and I want if possibly can, to prevent his knowing it, because we were larking together, and the boy threw some putty or lime into my eye, and I do not want the father to know it, as it may get him into a row"—I believe he went to the hospital—he said, "Good-bye, Cooke," and shook hands with me—he distinctly said that he had been larking with the boy, and I believe he had—on the following morning, I believe it was, I saw John Stokes the elder; but I am there every day—we almost met, and I said to my brother, "There is old Stokes," the prosecutor's father—I called him and said to him,"Halloa, Stokes, how is Bob," and he came and stood against the door—while he was there the father sent for the lad, who was down stairs in a sort of kitchen, and said to him, "Now, how was it that this accident occurred; tell me all about the facts?"—the boy made a statement-the father said, "Now, if there is any error or mistake, I think you are both in the wrong; because your son was larking with my boy the whole day, and my eon accidentally threw some lime at him, and they are both to
blame"—John Stokes did not say a word—I went to the hospital to see the prosecutor several times—the prisoner was a very well-behaved lad, I never saw anything to the contrary—he is always at home and takes care of his cat, and soon.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you not know that he is a mischievous boy? A. Never—the father was not angry with him in the slightest when he called in him up—he did not show the least anger.
WILLIAM WICKS ANDREW . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons—in September last I was house-surgeon at King's College Hospital—Stokes came there—I examined him—his left eye was injured—I asked whom whether he had been playing, and he said, "I have been playing"—I asked him one or two questions which I do not remember, and he said that it was done either coming up or down the ladder, and that the putty stuff was thrown at him—I afterwards found out that it was lime—he left no impression upon my mind that he charged anybody with it; but that it was an accident—the best thing that could be done was to wipe it out—it was washed out directly he came and some oil put in, but he has lost his eye—he said that he could bring me some of the stuff, but I said it was not necessary.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it burnt when he came in? A. Yes, it was quite opaque then—I do not exactly recollect what he said, it was of no importance to me: I had only to attend to the treatment—he did not say that it was caused by playing, but he said that he had been playing, and inferred that he meant that it was done by the playing.
BENJAMIN COOKE . I am the prisoner's father, and carry on business at 4, Salisbury-court—he was twelve years old last October—on the day this happened, I was in the shop all the morning till 1 o'clock—I saw Stokes finish the job that he was doing for me—he went away just before one, and I took him over the way and gave him a drop of beer, and all he had to do was to take his tools away—I went to dinner and expected that he would do the same—he returned, to the best of my recollection, between 4 and 5 o'clock—I saw him no more that night—Stokes never made the least complaint to me during the day, about my boy hiding his tools—he was always on too good terms with the boy, and they were always chaffing and giggling.
COURT. Q. Did you say, "You b----y young b----r, what every body Bays must be true; get out of my sight? A. No.
MR. POLAND. Q. Or any expression of a similar kind? A. No, I had no cause to complain of the boy at all—Stokes afterwards came to my I house, and I had the boy up to give an explanation—my boy has, been to school, and is a very well conducted lad, but he is of a lively disposition and is fond of play—I do not know of his using bad language, and I do not I believe that you can find anybody who ever heard him use it—I never heard him use such words as "b----y," or "b----r"—I would not countenance it—I do not know when Stokes came out of the hospital—he did not call on me—my son was served with a summons to attend the police-court.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you send any assistance to Stokes? A. No, I but I sent a message through my father for Mr. Ingle.
MR. POLAND. Q. You knew that he was in the hospital? A. Yes; and I know him to be a very great liar.
(MR. SYRETT, a shoemaker, and WILLIAM WHITE, a City police-sergeant, gave the prisoner a good character.)
GUILTY on the Second Count. Strongly recommended to mercy on account of his youth. JUDGMENT RESPITED. His father entered into recognisances for his appearance.
THIRD COURT.—Tuesday, December 18th, 1860.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. CONDER, and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR, Esq.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. METCALFE conducted tlie Prosecution.
KEZIA EDWARDS . I am the wife of Francis Edwards, of 12, Amptonplace, Gray's Inn-road—the prisoner was in my service on 6th November—on that day, about half-past two o'clock, I was in the kitchen—she was on her knees scrubbing the kitchen floor—I heard a cry like the cry of an infant—I asked her if she heard that noise—she said, "No"—I asked her a time or two and she said, "No" each time—then I asked her if it was her stomach—she said, "Yes"—I heard the noise two or three times—in consequence of that and other matters I noticed, I asked her, in the course of the afternoon, if she had not had a miscarriage—she said, "Yes"—from five o'clock to half-past I sent a message to Mr. Watkins the doctor—he arrived at a quarter to seven—next day she said that when I heard the noise in the kitchen the child was born, and that she put it into the pail-nothing further—when she was scrubbing the floor she had a pail with water in it.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. How long had she been with you? A. She came on 18th October—I had not the slightest suspicion that site was in the family way—I knew she was unwell when she came in the home—she did not appear to be at all ill on this day—she did not seem to be distracted in the least, or anything of that sort—when the child was found, it was put into a bath, and after that brought to the prisoner—the prisoner saw it that night—I was not present the first time she saw it—I did not go into the room when she saw it—it was alive—she appeared, very fond of it—she did not say anything further about the pail—her family is very respectable—I have known her mother and father many years.
EDWIN THOMAS WATKINS . I am a surgeon, of 21, Euston Road—on 6th November I was called in to see the prisoner—I examined her—she had been recently delivered—I inquired of her what had become of the child—I found that she required medical attention at once, which I paid to her—after that, in reply to repeated inquiries, she said she had placed the child in the ash pit—I went there at once and found it there—it was exceedingly cold, perfectly black from the cinder dust, but alive—it was lying on its side; the head turned round towards the knees; the knees turned upwards, and the cinders lying in a heap over it, the feet being four inches below; the head being near the centre of the heap, was about ten or eight' inches below—the dust completely covered the head—the whole body was completely concealed from sight—I took it out—it was still alive, and lived till about 6 o'clock the next morning but one—I found, on poet mortem examination, a clot of blood on the brain, and to that I attribute the death—that clot of blood might be from various causes—I think the death had not arisen from being put under the cinders—I had no reason to suppose so—it received injury by the exposure to cold, and from having no food, rather than from inhaling any dust—I carefully passed my finger along the throat, and there was not the least dust.
Cross-examined. Q. You say she required some medical attention? A. Yes, the after-birth remained—she was not in a very weak state—I should think it was scarcely a fully developed nine months' child—in weight it was below the average—I should say it was within probably a week or fortnight of the full period.
The Court considered that there was no evidence on the First Count.
GUILTYon the Second Count . Recommended to Mercy by the Jury.— Judgment respited
Before Mr. Recorder.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
JANE AKERS . I am the wife of Thomas Akers, of Fox-place, Woolwich—On Saturday, 8th December, I was at Mr. Bland's shop at Woolwich about a quarter past 10 o'clock—I had 19s. in a purse in my. pocket, and 3 1/2 d. loose in my pocket—while I was in the shop I had my hand in my pocket with the purse in it—I saw the prisoner there—she was standing on the side where my pocket was—I took my hand out of my pocket when I went up to the counter—I do not think it could have been more than a, minute and a half before I felt in my pocket again on going to pay for my meat, and my purse was gone, and I looked round and the prisoner was gone at the same instant—there was a gentleman near me at the time, but he was standing on the other side of the prisoner—I gave information to the police, and about half-past 12 the prisoner was taken—I am sure she is the person that had been in the shop—I had never seen her before.
Prisoner. Q. Will you state what brought me to the police-office when you made a prisoner of me? A. Your husband had beta ill-using you, and as I was stating my case to the inspector, the constable came and told me that the woman who had robbed me was outside, and I went out and saw you there—I could swear to you by your bonnet and shawl, and by your face too—you had a faint black eye at the time you picked my pocket—I will swear you are the person that took my money.
KATE PERCEVAL . I am the wife of Benjamin Perceval, an engineer at Woolwich—I went into Mr. Bland's shop on this Saturday-night about ten minutes past 10, and saw the prisoner there—she took her hand out of toy pocket, but I had nothing in it, I had my money in my hand—in consequence of that I watched her—I saw her go up to the prosecutrix with her dress in her hand, and I spoke to Mr. Bland to keep her eye upon her—she
remained at the prosecutrix's side—while my meat was being weighed, my attention was taken from the prosecutrix, and Mr. Bland said, "That woman is gone"—I looked, and found she had gone, and the prosecutrix missed her money directly—the prisoner did not buy anything in the shop.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see me take the woman's money, or see my hand in her pocket? A. I saw your hand on her dress, and about three weeks before this you had your hand in my pocket in a shop in Powis-street, but you shammed being tipsy at that time.
WILLIAM MASON (Policeman, R 252.) The prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Akers—she had previously described the person to me—it was in consequence of her description that I brought the prisoner to her, and she identified her.
Prisoner's Defence. I was never in the shop, and never took her money. I had been at home all the evening. My husband and I quarrelled, and he struck me, and gave me the black eye, and I went to give charge of him when they arrested me for this. NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROWDKN conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES GILLESPIE . I am a discharged soldier from the 53d Regiment—on Thursday-evening, 6th December, about 8 o'clock, I went into the Uncle Tom's Cabin beer-shop, at Woolwich—I went into the top room—there were some civilians there, and some females—the two prisoners were there—I had 1l. 9s. 6d. in my pocket—I called for something to drink in the lower part of the house, but when I went up stairs I was asked to treat the females—I put my hand in my pocket—a sovereign was the first thing that, came to hand, and I gave it to the barmaid to pay for the drink—she gave me the change quite correct—I drank about half a glass of ale, and was knocked down unsenseless—I do not remember anything more—when I came to my senses I had nothing in my pocket, and was left in a most disgraceful state—there were no persons in the room when I woke up—I have been robbed twice since I came from India.
Spencer. Q. When you came into the room what did you call fort? A. A quart of ale—previous to that I asked for half-a-pint of rum, but I drank none of that—I gave the waitress a shilling to get it, as they did not sell it there.
Chapman. Q. What time did you first see me that evening? A. About half-past 6 I went into the house—it was about a quarter to 7 when I went up-stairs—I did not take a young woman up-stairs—you are the two that led me up—I was too sober—I had come from the fencing-master's office—I only had a glass of rum previous to going into this house.
HENRY HORTON . I am a sergeant in the military train at Woolwich—on Thursday-evening, 6th December, I was at the Uncle Tom's Cabin—I saw the two prisoners there, and the prosecutor—he was lying on two-chairs, and in one of the girls' arms, and the other girl was taking his money—he was not sensible—it was Chapman who took his money—she took some silver and gold out of his pocket, and handed it to Spencer—she put the piece of gold in her mouth, and came and asked me if I would go out with her, but I refused the offer, and told the landlady what I had seen.
COURT. Q. Did you let them go out after seeing this? A. I sent the waitress down to the master, and stated the case to him—it was not
my place to seize them in the room, it was my place to make a report, and I did so, and during that time they went out.
MARTHA KILLICK . I am waitress at the Uncle Tom's Cabin, beer-shop—on the evening of 6th December I saw the prosecutor and two prisoners there; first of all down-stairs—the prisoners enticed the prosecutor to go up-stairs—he called for some ale and some rum, and gave me a sovereign to pay for it—I took him the change up—some little time afterwards I went up again into the room to put some coals on the fire, and I then saw the two prisoners with their hands in his pockets, one on each side—the prosecutor was lying down with his head resting on one of their shoulders—I did not see them take anything out of his pocket—I went and told my master, and he went up-stairs—the prisoners were then gone.
COURT. Q. How soon afterwards did you see them again? A. They came in again soon after, and called for a pot of stout, and a young man came with them—my master was out then, and I could not get assistance to give them in charge—they abused me for speaking about it—when they went away the first time could not find my master directly—the prosecutor was not the worse for liquor when he came in.
CHARLES WILDERSPIN (Policeman, R 396.) In consequeuce of information I apprehended Spencer on 7th December—I told her what she was charged with—she said she knew nothing of the robbery; it was not her—I apprehended Chapman next day—she also said she knew nothing about it.
Spencers Defence. I am quite innocent of the charge; I know nothing at all of the man's money, and did not take it. There was another young woman in his company before me, and she was with him all the night.
Chapman's Defence. I was not with him for three hours after he was in the house; I only saw the shilling that he-gave the waitress. No one said anything to us about the robbery, and no one stopped us from going oat.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months Each.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. M. J. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN NEWELL (Policeman, R 59). I am on duty at Woolwich—about twenty minutes or a quarter to 5 on the night of Thursday, 6th December, I saw the prisoners—there were two others with them when I saw them first—the prisoners were walking to and fro past Mr. Brangwin's shop in Powisrtreet, Woolwich—I was watching them for about ten minutes from the opposite side of the street—I was not in their view, I could see them—I saw Woodall take this print (produced) from the front of the prosecutor's shop, and take it down the street towards Kelly, who had a sack in his possession at the time—during that time Kelly was watching; looking up the street towards them, I saw Woodall put the print into the sack—on that I immediately crossed over and took Kelly info custody—I told him I wanted him for stealing the print from the shop—I was in plain clothes—he said, "You cannot say that, for a man asked me to carry it for him"—I then took him to the police-station—I gave the sack to a lad to carry—it was brought to the station-house with us—the other prisoner escaped—I left the station as soon as possible, and made towards Greenwich, the Lower-road,
and there I apprehended Woodall—I told him I wanted him for being concerned with others in stealing some print—he said, "Oh, you have made a mistake"—I then took him to the station, where they denied all knowledge of each other—I searched them—I found a return ticket on each, and a I halfpenny on Woodall—they refused to give their address—they said that they did not wish their friends to know they were in trouble.
COURT. Q. Have you any doubt about the identity of either prisoner? A. Not the slightest—I was watching them, I think, about ten minutes; it might be a little longer—I was in an opposite shop with the gas turned down.
THOMAS BRANGWIN . I live at 71, 72, and 73, Powis-street, Woolwich, and am a linendraper—that print is mine; my private mark is on it—on 6th December it was in a recess between my two windows—the value of it is about 2l. 10s.—there are eighty-nine yards in the two pieces.
COURT. Q. What do you mean by a recess between two windows? A. I have three windows; there are two doorways and a recess—the windows lie back—they are bay windows—the recess is used for piling or hanging goods—the goods are accessible from the outside—there is no door between recess and either window—the only way to put the goods in or to get them from the recess, is to come out into the street, just round the window—the goods were secured by pins over an iron bar; pinned with two or three ordinary pins.
KELLY— GUILTY .
WOODALL— GUILTY .**
Confined Two Years.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LLOYD the defence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK INDIMAN . I reside at 71, Union-street, Southwark, and am agent to Mr. William Jones, who is trustee for certain property bequeathed to his sister—I know the house, 7, St. Margaret's-court, Southwark, that is part of the property so bequeathed, of which Mr. Jones is trustee—it is in the occupation of a man named Dennis Clary—on 30th November I heard a fire had taken place there, and I went to look at the place to see what had been done—that was the day after the fire; I went into the top room of the house—I saw some shavings and straw lying about the place—s portion of it seemed as if it had been burnt, a little of it.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. In what part of the floor was it? A. It was an empty room, nothing in the room but remnants, as though they had been portions of a mattress, such as these common mattresses are
made of—I did not see any part of the case of the mattress there—it was an empty room, it was strewed about as if an old mattress had been left there—more at one end than the other—there are three rooms in the house, one over the other—there are no back rooms.
DENNIS CLARY . I am a labourer, and rent the house 7, St. Margaret's-court, Southwark—I let the top room to the prisoner—there are only three rooms in the house, kitchen, middle room, and top—on the morning of 30th November, I went into that room occupied by the prisoner, with Mr. Indiman—I saw some shavings in the room, with slight signs of fire on some, and I saw a little bit of rag about—that was all—the middle floor of the house was let to some one else.
Cross-examined. Q. Is the prisoner a working man, a labourer? A. Yes; a regular working man; he works at the same work as I do, for Mr. Scovel—he is a very industrious man indeed—he drinks sometimes, but very seldom, he cannot help himself—he is a poor man—he has a wife, thirteen months married—he has behaved very well to her—he has no children.
MR. ROWDEN. Q. I suppose you mean he has not the means to supply liquor? A. No; and when a man is inclined to bring a little in to his home, he can't drink much.
JANE GILBERT . I live at 6, St. Margaret's-place, Southwark, next door to the house where the prisoner lives—on 29th November, a little before 2 in the afternoon, I saw the prisoner come out of the house into the court—as he passed me he said, "You b----, I have done it, for I have set fire to the b----house"—in consequence of that I went outside and looked up at the window, and saw some smoke coming out of the top window—I gave an alarm to the police.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he near you when he made use of that expression? A. He was about two or three steps from me—he said it loud enough for me to hear him—he appeared quite drunk to me by the way he staggered out of the house.
MR. ROWDEN. Q. I suppose he could walk? A. Yes; but not straight.
WILLIAM BUTTON (Policeman, A 494). On 29th of November, about 2 o'clock in the afternoon, I was on duty near St. Margaret's-court, Southwark—in consequence of information I received I went to No. 7—I saw smoke issuing from the top floor window—the prisoner was pointed out to me—he was in the court walking direct away, from the house, about ten yards from the door—I took him into custody, and told him he was charged with setting fire to the house—he said, "All right, governor;" I took him to the station—I sent for a fireman, and went with him into the room—that was after the fire was put out—I noticed a great quantity of shavings, and it appeared to me like a mattress strewed on the floor—I never saw any one in that room.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he remanded? A. He was, twice—he was taken to the station at night and put back till next morning, the 30th—the Magistrate said he did not think he was quite sober enough to have his hearing.
GEORGE PLANT . I am a fireman belonging to the London Fire Establishment—on 29th November last, I was called to a fire at 7, St. Margaret's-court, Southwark—I went to the top room of the house and saw what appeared to be two mattresses cut up—they were stuffed with shavings, strewed about the floor, one was on fire, and the flooring too—when I went up I poured twelve pails of water over it and that put it out—there was no fire in the fire-place—I searched the room and found some lucifer matches
on the mantel-shelf—next day I cut up a part of the flooring—this is it (produced)—this is only a portion of it—this part is burnt and the rest of it left there—the floor was actually burnt.
Cross-examined. Q. Was some of the mattress burning? A. Yes; a portion of the shavings were burnt; not all—there was about a cart-load of them—I was about seven or eight minutes putting it out—water was brought to me—I cannot say whether there, was the contents of one or two mattresses.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
Mr. Lewis conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE TAYLOR (Policeman, P 105). On 1st December I was in Lion-street near the Kent-road, between 2 and 3 o'clock in the morning, and saw I both the prisoners running down Lion-street towards New-street—they crossed New-street and went into No. 7, which is a harbour for thieves and prostitutes—I stopped there and listened about two minutes, and heard Gray say, "Anne, is there a lucifer down here?"—I afterwards went into Lion-street and saw the prosecutrix and Clark at the door of No. 30—from what she said to me examined the front window and found a pane of glass broken and fresh blood upon it, the latch was pushed right back, it was right underneath the broken pane and could be easily pushed back—I went over the house, and in the front room found a considerable lot of towels, brushes, and sheeting, all strewed about the room—I afterwards went with Serjeant Bell to 7, New-street, and found both the prisoners in one bed—Gray had his drawers, stockings, and shirt on, and Skews was entirely undressed, except his shirt—while we were at the door I had heard Gray say, "They saw us come in; they have found out the job"—I asked them how long they had been in bed—they said, "About half an hour"—I examined Gray's hands, they were not cut—we had great difficulty in getting Skews right hand from under him—I then found the top of his middle finger cut off by a pane of glass; and bleeding, just a little bit of the flesh was cut off and the skin—Gray said that there had been a row up at the Elephant and Castle, and that he had protected his friend—Skews said that a female shoved an umbrella in his eye, then drew a knife to stab him and that was the instigation of having his finger cut—I took them to the station with the assistance of Sergeant Bell, and found on them these two knives; this one has paint on it of the same colour as that on the window sash, and the other has marks of putty on it, with which it had been picked out—I was present when Sergeant Bell found some alpaca in the corner of a box under the bedstead where they were sleeping.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was there anything else in the box? A. Some bits of rag and rubbish, but nothing like this alpaca—it was three in the morning when we got into the house—I said at the Court that I heard one of them say, "They have found out the job"—I swear that it was Gray that said it; I know that by his voice, because I heard him speak when I got into the room, and I knew that it was the same voice—Skews pretended to be asleep, but he could not be, because we had been knocking at the door—the interval of time between when we first saw them at the door and our getting into the house was about twenty minutes or half an hour—it was not nearer to on hour—I was ten yards or so away from them—I
have known them about before—I have seen Skews in the London-road and it Waterloo-road, and am sure he is the man I saw go into the house by his dress, which was a suit of black and a Scotch cap.
Cross-examined by MR. ROWDEN. Q. Did you find the alpaca at first? A. When we went to apprehend them we went all over the house to see if we could find the stolen property.
ROBERT BELL (Policeman, P 39). I went with the last witness to the house of the prosecutrix—I examined the place—it was all in confusion; the cupboards and boxes all ransacked, and spots of blood all over the articles—I found a pane of glass broken and the putty all cut away; the catch had been forced back—the paint on this knife and the paint on the window sash corresponded—I afterwards went to New-street, where I saw the prisoners—they both appeared to be asleep—I had heard one of them say only aboutthree minutes before, "They have seen us come home, and they have found out the job"—after I was admitted they roused up and appeared to me as if they had been drinking—Gray said, "What do you want?"—I said, "I want you for that job"—I did not exactly mention the job then—he did not make any answer to that—I asked him to let me look at his hands—he showed me both his hands—I could not t perceive any marks of blood upon them—I then pulled Skews over, and asked him to let me look at his hands—he put his left hand out—I examined that and found no blood; he then put his right hand out—I found that that was cut at the top, and there was blood on the sheets—there was a handkerchief by the side of the bed, saturated with blood—there was a box under the bed, which Gray said was a dog's box—I examined it, and found in it a piece of alpaca with marks of blood on it—there was no dog in the box, or in the house.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. Were you with the last witness when you first saw them? A. No; he came and met me in the Walworth-road and told me of the case, and then I went with him to the house of the prosecutrix—I cannot exactly say whether the knife is in the same state as when it was found—there was fresh paint and fresh putty on it—I have not rubbed it off—the window was an ordinary parlour window, which pulled down from the top—the catch was in the centre—you can get a knife between the two sashes, and push the catch back, but the catch was so tight that they were obliged to break the window—when I found the alpaca, I told Skews that I should take him on that job, and that would complete it—he said, after a long time, that he hadbeen having a quarrel with a female at the Elephant and Castle—I did not say that I had heard of the affair at the Elephant and Castle—he said, "They have seen us come out, and have found out the job"—he did not say what job—I was then at the door listening.
Cross-examined by MR. ROWDEN. Q. Are these the spots of blood you I have been telling us of? A. Yes; they were fresh at the time.
MR. LEWIS. Q. You saw it immediately you entered the house? A. Yes; the spots were quite wet then.
ANN CLARK . I am the wife of William Henry Clark, of Lion-street, painter and glazier—I recollect having fastened the window of my parlour about 8 o'clock on the evening of 1st December.—I went to bed about ten o'clock—during the night the barking of a little dog aroused me, and, hearing some one rushing down stairs, I got up—we sleep in the back room; that leads into the passage—the door leading into the street was open—I had not left it in that condition the evening before—the parlour door was wide open, I had shut it the night before—I found the room all in confusion, things turned from the cupboard on to the floor, and likewise spotted with blood—this
piece of alpaca is mine—I kept it in a box in the cupboard, which had been turned out—I put it there the day before—I purchased it of Charlotte Elizabeth Paine—I do not know either of the prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. Have you always been sure that that was yours? A. I bought it the day before—the sergeant brought it to me, and asked me if I had been buying alpnca—I said I had bought a yard of alpaca—he said, "What colour?" I said, "Black"—it is nothing more than a common piece of alpaca; but it is the same length, width, colour, and quality, as that which I bought—there is nothing peculiar about it—as soon as we heard the rushing down stairs, we both got up—my husband is here—I am quite sure that I bought a piece of alpaca the day before, and that this is like what bought—there were also two sheets in the room, and some trinkets; different little things in the boxes—I did not miss anything besides the alpaca.
Cross-examined by MR. ROWDEN. Q. Have you measured that alpacts? A. No, not exactly—I should suppose it is a yard.
CHARLOTTE ELIZABETH PAINE . I am shopwoman to Mr. Edwards, 14, Black Prince-road, a draper—I sold one yard of alpaca to Mr. Clark, on Friday, 30th November—I produce a pattern from the piece from which that came, and they correspond—I believe this to be the piece I sold.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOTD. Q. Have you any private mark on it? A. No—I did not sell other pieces the same day; on other days I have—we do not sell much of it—we buy it from the city.
Cross-examined by MR. ROWDEN. Q. What is the length of that piece? A. One yard, the piece that I sold—I do not know exactly the length of this piece.
GRAY— GUILTY .*— Confined Fifteen Months.
SKEWS— GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. GENT conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM COOMBES . I live at 8, Caesar-terrace, Spring-grove, Wandsworth-road, and am a railway-porter—about a quarter past 11 o'clock, on 17th December, I was coming down a street near the Vauxhall-walk—I saw the prisoner Stevens standing on the edge of the kerb—as I came to him, he pushed me in the road and grabbed at my watch, which was in my left-hand waistcoat-pocket—I fell—he did not get it—I caught it as it was coming from my pocket—I did not see it in his hand; he had not got it—he had got the chain; I saw that in his hand—Jones was with Stevens—they were both together—Jones was doing nothing at this time—he was standing on the pathway all the time—they were both together when I came to them—I did not see Jones doing anything all the time—they both ran away then, about a minute after—the policeman brought them back a very short time afterwards—I said to Stevens, "You have not got it yet"—I then had the watch in my hand—I did not call out—the affair took about two or three minutes—I did not go after them when they ran away—I did not make an alarm—the policeman brought them back to me almost before I could recover myself—this (produced) is my watch.
COURT. Q. Had you been drinking? A. I had been at the Waterloo Station to see a friend, and we had nearly two pints between us—that was all—Stevens did not strike me, he pushed me—I did not go after them—he
pushed me in the mud, and then I could scarcely move at first; and, before I recovered myself, the policeman brought them back—Jones did not interfere at all—they were standing on the path, doing nothing, before I came up to them—the road is well lighted—there are no shops open near it—I saw the prisoners distinctly by the light from one gas-light, and the other.
JAMES HORNSBY (Police-sergeanty L 5). On the night of 16th December, I was at the end of Lambeth-walk, about half-past 11 o'clock—I heard I a noise of some one running, at about twenty yards distance—I went there and saw Jones running, not very fast—when he saw me he stopped and walked at a sharp pace round Lambeth-walk—I saw another party running down the street something about his size—I followed Jones and took him into custody—I asked him what Was the matter, that I was sure something was wrong—he said he had just been round the corner to make water—I said, "What were you running for?"—he said he did not know—I brought him back to the corner of that street, where I saw the prosecutor with his watch in his hand—he was standing there speaking to the sergeant. who is in attendance now—he said, "I have been knocked down, and some one attempted to steal my watch"—I said, "Is this the lad?" meaning Jones—he said he was not positive whether it was he—he said there were one or two more; that Jones was in company with those who knocked him down, he did not positively know whether it was he that grabbed at his watch—sergeant Coxhead pursued the others—during his absence, Stevens came along Doughty-street, where I was—the inspector came up just I previous, and I handed Jones to him—when I took Stevens, I told him I wanted him—he said, "What for?"—I said, "If you come back to the corner you will see"—he came back, and I said to the prosecutor, "Do you know this man?"—the prosecutor said, "That is the man that knocked me down"—the charge was then stated to Stevens, and I conveyed him to the station—the prisoners there said that they knew nothing of the affair whatever.
COURT. Q. Had the prosecutor been drinking? A. He appeared a little in drink, and very much alarmed; in an excited state—the excitement I was from fear—he had not exactly the appearance of a drunken man.
THOMAS PIERSON . I live at 4, Lyall-street, Leicester-square, and am a carver and gilder—I was in Doughty-street, near Lambeth-walk, on this night, about half-past 11—I saw the prosecutor there—two men had hold of him, and Stevens pushed him, snatched at his watch, and ran round the corner—I cannot swear to Jones as being one of them, but one was shorter than the other—they ran in separate directions—I followed Stevens round I the corner as quickly as I could, and saw him meet a girl and another lad, half-way down the street—they crossed the road all three together and stood under the lamp, and I had a full view of the taller one—the three were speaking together—I had a good view of them—they were then out of the prosecutor's sight—Stevens turned back again and went towards where the prosecutor was—I turned down the next street, went up Lambeth-walk, and met Hornsby with him in custody—I lost sight of the other prisoner—I did not see anything more of him till the policeman had got him in custody—I swear to Stevens being the man who did what I saw done—Jones is about the height of the other one, but I cannot say positively that it was he—I found both of them in custody—I did not see the watch at the time—I believe the prosecutor had been drinking—he was not drunk.
Stevens. Q. Do you say you saw me and another lad standing with the
prosecutor? A. Yes—you snatched at his watch after having shoved him, and then ran away—the proseoutor staggered, but I did not see whether he fell.
GEORGE COXHEAD (Police-sergeant, L 14). I was on duty on this night near Lambeth-walk, and met the prosecutor at the corner of Doughty-street; he complained to me—after Jones was taken into custody the prosecutor said there were some more in it—at the corner of William-street I met Stevens, in company with another lad, who is not in custody, and a woman, when they saw me they separated and ran away in different directions; Stevens in the direction of Lambeth-walk—he was running at that time—he was apprehended in Lambeth-walk—I pursued the other but lost him—I had seen the two prisoners about half an hour before, outside the Jolly Gardener's public-house, with another lad and a female—they were the same two that I afterwards saw Stevens with, about fifty yards from the spot where this robbery took place.
Stevens's Defence. I was walking round Short-street, about 11 o'clock and the police constable came up to me; I asked him what he wanted me for, I he said, "Come and see;" I walked back with him, and the prosecutor I stated that I had shoved him down and ran away. He never spoke a word I about the watch then. The other witness stated that I was standing up to I him with another man, and that then I snatched the watch and ran away; I those are two different stories.
Jones's Defence. I had just come from Lambeth-walk, and the police sergeant caught hold of me and said he wanted me. I asked him what for, and he told me to come to the corner of the street and he would tell me.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 7TH, 1861.