CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE,
REVISED AND EDITED BY
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
SESSION VII. TO SESSION XII.
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.
On the Queen's Commission of
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, May 5th, 1861, and following days.
BEFORE the Right Hon. WILLIAM CUBITT , Esq. M.P. Lord Mayor of the City of London; Sir James Shaw Willes, Knt. one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir William Fry Channell, Knt. one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; William Taylor Copeland, Esq. M.P.; Sir James Duke, Bart. M.P.; Sir Francis Graham Moon, Bart. F.S.A.; and Sir Robert Walter Carden, Knt., Aldermen of the said City; Russell Gurney, Esq. Q.C. Recorder of the said City; William Lawrence, Esq.; Warren Stormes Hale, Esq.; John Joseph Mechi, Esq.; and James Clarke Lawrence, Esq.; Aldermen of the said City; and Thomas Chambers, Esq. Q.C. Common Serjeant 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.
The following Prisoners, upon whom the Sentence of the Court was respited at the time of Trial, have since been sentenced as under:
Vol. liv. Page Sentence.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
CUBITT, MAYOR. SEVENTH 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, May 6th, 1861.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Sir JAMES DUKE, Bart. M.P. Ald.; Sir FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart. Ald.; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt. Ald.; Mr. RECORDER; Mr. Ald. WILLIAM LAWRENCE; and Mr. Ald. MECHI.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LAXTON conducted the Prosecution.
SOMERS HIGGINS . I am clerk at the Westminster Police-court—on 13th February, a charge was preferred there against a person of the name of Purdue—it was upon an information—I have the information here (produced)—it is an information signed by two witnesses in order that a (summons might be granted against Purdue for perjury; a summons was then issued—the information contains the allegations of perjury—the matter came on for hearing on 13th February, at the Westminster Police court—the defendant then gave evidence on behalf of Purdue.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. There would be a summons founded upon that information? A. Yes; I have not got the summons here; I was not required produce it.
MR. SLEIGH. I submit that the summons ought to be produced, that being the only evidence of the nature of the charge which Purdue was called upon to answer.
MR. LAXTON. The information is sufficient, that being the original basis of the investigation.
MR. RECORDER. He appeared upon the information; the summons was issued for the purpose of his attending upon that information.
WITNESS (continued.) The prisoner was duly sworn—the inquiry was before Mr. Painter, one of the Magistrates of the Westminster Police-court—he is authorized to have oaths taken before him—upon that occasion the prisoner made a deposition, which I have here—(The witness read the evidence given by the defendant; it was to the effect that, en the night of 26th June last, a person named Ryan and others were at his house, from half-past 7 or 8 in the evening till about 12 o'clock, when the house was closed; they then remained outside, larking and making a noise; that he was taking out his dog
for a walk, but that the dog did not go near Ryan)—This is the usual information that Magistrates require, of two witnesses before issuing a summons—Purdue was told what he was charged with; I read out the summons to him—the charge was communicated to him by the reading out of the summons—the information was not read out; it never is.
MR. RECORDER. According to this evidence the charge that he was called upon to answer was contained in the summons, and not in the information; and we must know what the charge was, in order to see whether or not the evidence given by the defendant was material.
MR. METCALFE. This question arose before Mr. Justice Wightman on circuit and he held that the summons was the record, and that they could not go on without the summons.
MR. LAXTON. I submit that the information is sufficient, as that was the original foundation of the matter.
MR. RECORDER. The information does not seem to be brought to the knowledge of the accused in any way; it would be behind his back; it was the summons that was read out to him, and without that I think you cannot give any further evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
405. LUDOVIC VERNEY (26) , Stealing 1 shawl, value 10s. and other goods, the property of Frederick Clemow; also 1 coat, and other goods, the property of William Banks Silk; also a printed book, value 1l. and 2 sheets, value 10s. the property of Sidney Spencer; to all which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
The prisoner being a foreigner had the evidence interpreted.
MOSES DAVIS . I am a tailor of King-street, St. James'—the prisoner has worked with me for the last six months—he left me on 25th April; I had no notice of his intention to leave—about an hour after he left I missed a coat and pair of trousers from the room where he worked—about a fortnight before that I had missed some knives and forks—last Wednesday night I went with an officer to a house in Whitechapel, where I found the prisoner, and in that room 1 found the coat I had missed, and the knives and forks, and the trousers he had on—these are the things (produced)—when he first saw me he said, "How are you getting on, Mr. Davis?"—I said, "You know in what way you left me"—he said, "Don't say anything before the master of the house; I will go and speak with you"—he put his coat on and came out, and I told the policeman to take him in charge.
Prisoner. Q. Was I not six days with you without work? A. Yes; longer than that—I promised to give you work whenever I had any—I said, as long as I had two coats to make, you should have one; but I had none myself lately—you had your meals with me—it is not true that I pledged things that I had to make up; I have done so, but not at this time, and I took them out again.
COURT. Q. Were the things he took new things? A. No; my own clothes, not anything that he was at work upon.
Custody by the prosecutor—I told him he was charged with stealing a coat and pair of trousers—he spoke English so that I could understand him—he aid the coat was at home; he said nothing about the trousers till I found them on him at the station—he then said they were not trousers, they were drawers.
Prisoner's Defence. I never denied having the things; I bought them Three weeks before I was accused. He owed me money, and let me have the things in payment.
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined eighteen months.
NEW COURT.—Monday, May 6th, 1861.
PRESENT—Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, knt. Ald.; Mr. Ald.MECHI; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common serjeant.
MR. LEWIS conducted the prosecution.
ISAAC GOLDBERG . I am in the employ of Messrs. H. E. and M. Moses, of cannon-street, man Chester warehousemen—the prisoner was in their employ, in the branch establishment in Bow-lane, as a tailor—our work-room is over a gateway—there are two entrances to the workshop—I lock them up at night, at 8 o'clock, sometimes a few minutes past, because if they are busy, we must wait till they are all off—we open about 8 o'clock in the morning—I recollect having locked the gates on 27th February, at about twenty-five minutes past—I should say there was no one in the premises at that time—it is my duty to look round every night and see whether there is any one on the premises—there is in that room a compound, that is, a part of the room railed off; a dock—in that compound there is a desk, and this drawer (produced)—on the night in question there was in that drawer 5l. 13s. In the first compartment, the part nearest to the lock, all in silver; 13l. Odd, in the second compartment, in gold; and 7l. Odd, in gold, in the third—I locked up that drawer and desk and the compound that night, before I left—I saw the prisoner on the premises as late as twenty minutes past 8 o'clock that night—I returned next morning at a few minutes before—two men, one of whom was daily, came in with me—I found no difficulty in opening the gate; there was no violence to that lock—about 9 o'clock I went to the drawer in which the money was, and I found it in the condition in which it now is—close to the drawer there was a pair of tailor's scissors, which I had not seen before—I do not think the drawer could have been opened with them, but there were other tools—the silver was gone—there was a chair upon a table outside the partition, so that anybody could get over into the compound—the chair was not on the table when I left, the night before—upon discovering it I had a communication with a boy named levy, from which I gave directions to a constable to go after the prisoner—it was the prisoner's duty to be on the premises at 8 o'clock, as well as the other men—I did not see him at all that day.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. Was there a yard in front of the shop? A. Yes, and then there is a gate; the only communication with these workshops is by one of those gateways—no one can get over that gateway, because the workshop is over it—it, is a wooden gateway, with wooden doors which reach to the arch—the gateway is opened in the morning—the doors on the left cannot be opened from the outside, because the locks are inside—they could very likely open them if some instrument were used—I found no marks of any instrument.
COURT. Q. Is there any keyhole through? A. No; it is fastened by bolts and by a lock inside—there are four rooms—I generally go into all the four, and there are some little places besides—the prisoner worked by piece—he was in their employ about a month or six weeks before—this last time he was not at work more than two days—I was away for a week—he had never been there until about six weeks before—nobody came in there to see the work-people; it is not allowed—this money was tied in a little canvas bag—I did not give the prisoner any money that evening—if he is not lazy he can earn about 25s. and 30s. a week, and some of them get 2l.; but he was quite a lazy man, and never did work.
WILLIAM DALY . I live at 8, Derby-street, Royal Mint-street, Towerhill, and am in the service of Messrs. Moses—I recollect coming to their shop about 8 o'clock on the morning of the 28th—I recollect going upstairs with Goldberg and other workmen—I left the others there—I went to the water-closet—I could not get in; the door was closed front the inside against me.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you require to go there yourself? A. Yes—I came about three or four minutes before 8 that morning—there is no fastening inside the water-closet, but there is a bolt that a person can hold the door by from the inside—I was at the door before the foreman came—I had to wait for him—I saw him unlock the door.
EMANUEL DAVID LEVY . I live at 4, Fraser-street, Lower-marsh, Lambeth, and am in the prosecutors' service—on the night of 27th February, I saw the prisoner on the premises up to twenty minutes past—I locked up the premises with Mr. Goldberg—I left at the same time—I came the next morning about two minutes before—I saw CAUFMAN coming out of the premises—the premises were opened about four minutes before—I saw him leave about a minute before 8, or at 8 o'clock—he was coming out with his foot on the step in a very hurried manner—I said, Good morning, where are you going?"—it is my usual duty to stop any person going out of the premises—he said, "I am going to buy a reel of cotton, and have a cup of coffee, and I shall be back presently"—he did not come back—I afterwards went with the detective to Goldstone-street—when the prisoner went out, the door was half open—he must have been in the act of just shutting the door as I met him—I was going in—he had told me the night before that he wanted some money, he was going to Germany.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you come by yourself that morning? A. Yes; at about two minutes before—the place was open then, and I saw him coming out.
MR. LEWIS. Q. When you went into the room where the prisoner was, with the detective officer, did you say anything to him about being home all night? A. Not to my recollection; the detective spoke most to him.
MR. LLOYD. Q. When was it you went to Goldstone-street? A. The Thursday morning—8 o'clock is the earliest hour for people to come there; but some of them come a few minutes before, and some after—Mr. Goldberg
was there when I got there—I do not know how long he had been there—it is my duty to keep the books—I open the door sometimes when people come—the door is not open usually—there is a girl kept on purpose for opening it to people—a bell is rung whenever people wish to go in—I said I to him, "You are early"—I was early myself that morning—I mentioned this about half an hour afterwards.
JACOB STREEN . I am a dealer, residing at 35, Chicksand-street, Spitalfields, and am the prisoner's landlord—on the night of 27th February, he was out all night—I waited till 1 o'clock in the morning—he did not come home, but he came home a little before 8 in the morning—he looked rather sleepy—I asked him where he had been—he gave me a slight answer—I could not understand what he said—he looked about him, and then off he went directly.
AUGUSTA STREEN (Through an interpreter). I am a widow, residing with my son, the last witness—I recollect the prisoner coming home on Thursday morning, 28th February, about 9 o'clock—that was the first time I saw him that morning—he had some silver money in his hand—some shillings—I saw it was silver, and I stood back—I cannot say how much he had—he said he had been playing at dominoes, and won it that night.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know why he showed it to you? A. Because he gave me a penny to have something bought for him—I did not count he money that he had.
ALFRED GREEN (City-policeman). I went with Levy to Chicksand-street first, and from there to Gold stone-street—in consequence of what he said, went into 42, and made inquiries if a person named Kaufman was there—was denied at every room—I went into every room and searched before I bund him—I found him at the top of the house in a back room—I had been in the passage of that house for half an hour before I found him—both myself and a countryman of the prisoner's had been calling out for Caufman—the only answer that came was, that he was not there—he must have heard us call—I told him that I was an officer, and that he was charged with robbing his employer, Mr. Moses, of between 5l. and 6l. in silver—he appeared not to understand me—I repeated it to him several times—at length e said, "Me no thief; me no rob!—I searched him, but found nothing on him—while I was searching him, the lad Levy said, "Caufman, it looks very bad against you; you have not been home to-night, and you have kept away from your work"—he replied, "Well, I have been very ill, and all the tailors know it"—a female in the room said,-" He has nothing to do with me, I' have not seen him for about a fortnight"—a little girl, who I believe to be a relative of the prisoner, said something to me, but I cannot say whether the prisoner heard it or not.
Cross-examined. Q. You stood at the bottom of the stairs, and called out "Caufman?" A. Yes; and went up stairs—somebody from that very room answered that he was not there—I searched the room—I partly looked over it while he was there; but after taking him to the station, I went back and had a further search.
MR. LEWIS. Q. You had no search-warrant from the Magistrate? A. No; and the female denied his having anything to do with the room; that it was not his room—the woman was not in bed—she lay down on the bed afterwards.
MR. LLOYD called
HARRIS (Through an interpreter). I live at No. 4, Wilson-street—the prisoner is my nephew—I was present when he was taken in custody—I was in bed because I was ill—on the night of the 28th
he came and asked to sleep in the back room—I had no other bed to give him—there were two children there, and he lay himself down next to the children—I saw him lay down—I cannot tell what time it was—I had no watch because my husband is not here—I generally go to bed between 8 and 9—I was already in bed when the prisoner came—I went to bed that night at my usual time—I saw him in the morning—I cannot tell at what o'clock—it might have been 7 o'clock, or half-past—I do not know.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Do you recollect telling the police-constable, when he was taken into custody, that he had not been there for a fortnight? A. I cannot remember what I have told him—I was ill in bed—I told him nothing of the kind—I do not remember a single word.
MR. LLOYD. Q. How long before the night previous to the day on which the prisoner was taken had you seen the prisoner? A. He came very often to me.
GUILTY — Confined Twelve Months.
410. GEORGE MACDONALD (26) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Edmund Bachelor, and stealing therein 3 coats value 12s. his property, and feloniously beating and striking him; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .**
Joseph Jones (Policeman, L 151) produced a certificate of the prisoner's conviction of housebreaking, in Sept. 1859, when he was sentenced to Twelve Months' imprisonment, and stated that the woman he had been living with was convicted here last Session. (See case of Mary Anne Chescow, page 488.)
OLD COURT—Tuesday, May 7th, 1861.
PRESENT—SIR FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart. Ald.; Mr. RECORDER; and Mr. Ald. JAMES LAWRENCE.
Before Mr. Recorder.
411. JAMES HOGG (28) and CAROLINE HOGG were indicted for stealing, on 5th July, 50 handkerchiefs, value 12l. and 282 scarfs, value 30l.; on 15th August, 106 handkerchiefs and 316 scarfe, value 52l.; and on 11th October, 198 handkerchiefs, 133 scarfs, and 6 neckties, value 27l. 12s., the property of John Brocklehurst and others, the masters of James Hogg; to which
JAMES HOGG PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. SLEIGH offered no evidence against
CAROLINE HOGG.— NOT GUILTY .
412. JAMES HOGG and CAROLINE HOGG were again indicted for stealing, on 4th February, 89 handkerchiefs and 24 scarfs, value 35l.; on 5th April, 49 handkerchiefs and 232 scarfe, value 35l.; and on 23d May, 50 handkerchiefs and 282 scarfe, value 37l., the property of the said John Brocklehurst and others, the masters of James Hogg; to which.
JAMES HOGG PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. SLEIGH offered no evidence against
CAROLINE HOGG— NOT GUILTY .
JAMES HOGG PLEADED GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. SLEIGH offered no evidence against
CAROLINE HOGG.— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. METCALFE and ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED BRETT . I am a gardener, living at 5, Albert-road, Old Ford, Stratford-le-bow—my house is at the back of the defendant's butt, about forty yards from it—the butt is in a sort of garden or enclosed ground—there are three highways close to it, the Victoria-park-road, the Victoria-road, and the Albert-road—the Victoria-park-road runs right across the back the butt—the Victoria-road is about from thirty to forty yards from the butt, and the Victoria-park-road about the same distance again—the Albert-road runs immediately at the back of the butt—the nearest road from the butt is from twenty to twenty-five yards; I cannot say exactly—if a person at the butt, and the bullet passed to the right of the butt, it would most likely go into one of the houses, or into the Albert-road—there are ten houses there—immediately at the back of the butt the ground is open as far as the Park-road, and there is a footpath leading to the Victoria-road and the Victoria-park—it is not the defendant's ground between the butt and the Victoria-park-road; it is a piece of ground belonging to some other man, I believe—there is a kitchen garden at the back, belonging to Mr. Brown, of Marquis of Cornwallis public-house, then comes the Albert-road and the houses in the Albert-road—there are no gardens at the back of the Albert-road—the Victoria-road is a main thoroughfare into Victoria-park by Victoria-park-road—there is regular street in the Victoria-park; the houses stand at the back of the Albert-road—on the evening of 3d December I had just left my own house, and was passing No. 8, three doors off, when a rifle bullet whistled over my head, and entered Mr. Bartholomew's bedroom window at No.—that is the third house to the right of the butt, No. 10 being at the corner of the Albert-road—I have been in the army nine years—I know the whistle of a rifle bullet well—the sound of it rather astonished me for the moment—I was on my way to Victoria-park station—I hesitated for a moment whether to go on, when two more came over immediately, and fell into a small heap of gravel and knocked the stones about my feet—I then turned back immediately, and went over to Bow station instead of Victoriapark station—I should think this was about a quarter-past 8 o'clock—the firing was usually carried on from half-past 9 to 10—I only heard it one day afterwards—I never took much notice of the firing previous to 3d December—I knew the ground—there was firing going on, rifle shooting—persons were assembled there—the butt was there previous to 3d December—I have seen it—in my opinion it is not broad enough or high enough—at the top of the sand-bags, which are placed before the butt, there are some wooden faggots, placed, long ways towards the shot—a pound of candles would have about the same effect in stopping a rifle ball as that—if you walk at the back of them you can see through them—a cat could run between them in many places—I cannot give you the size of the butt at all, I daresay it can be given; but I should think from the top of the target to the top of the sand-bags which would be at all effective in stopping a rifle ball, it would be seven feet, as far as my judgment goes.
Q. How far is it from where the rifle is discharged to the bedroom window
where it entered? A. The report came from towards the end of Mr. Beasley's ground, which I should think would be about 150 yards—it might be a little over, 170—the other two bullets that were fired that night, and came near me, came from Mr. Beasley's ground, I can be on my oath—there is a great danger, in addition to the person not hitting the butt, of the ball hitting the ground before hitting the butt—you can then hardly tell where the shot will fly; it is just as likely to fly into the street, or go back again—in a properly constructed butt an allowance is made for a shot striking the ground.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Do you speak from your own experience as a rifle shooter? A. I can shoot a rifle as well as a great many—I have been engaged in practising rifle shooting—I have been an instructor in rifle shooting, and also in the artillery—I have just looked at the butt to tell the size of it—it does not want much looking at it to give an opinion upon it—this model (produced) is something like the rifle ground—the butt is situated at the end of a cutting, which is represented by that model—there is an archway at the commencement of the cutting, but I cannot say whether the riflemen always fire through it or not—I believe that is a correct representation of the construction of the cutting, 'the butt, and the arch through which they fire—I can't say whether there is a gradual descent from the grounds of the garden down to the place where they stand to fire through the archway—I have not seen that part of the ground—the 3d of December is the only occasion of which I personally complain—some rifle balls, propelled from a rifle, will be carried 1,000 yards, some 1,200, some 800—the rifles which are ordinarily made use of by the rifle corps of London will carry a ball from 800 to 1,000 yards, a fair charge being in the rifle—that would be the regulation charge—that would be about half a mile—my house is about forty yards from the butt—it was not into my house the ball went; it was No. 8, three doors from me; my house is No. 5—there are sand-bags seven feet from the top of the target—I should think the target is about four feet high; I cannot say exactly—I saw the bullet afterwards that the policeman picked up—that bullet presented the appearance of having been recently discharged from a rifle—I can hardly tell you how soon I saw it—it might have been a fortnight; but you can tell for a twelvemonth, whether it has been fired through a rifle or not—a rifle ball recently discharged from a rifle would present an appearance very little different indeed from that which it would present a fortnight afterwards—I think it would take rather a clever man to tell whether or not it had been recently. discharged; all I can tell is that this ball had been discharged from a rifle, and had received the rotary motion from a rifle—the gravel was struck up at my feet—I will undertake to say that that was the result of bullets—the two bullets came right into this heap of gravel—I did not search for them; I did not think it worth my while—I was in a hurry to get to the train to go where I was going—all I can say is that two rifle balls came into that heap of gravel within, I should say, a couple of seconds; immediately, as fast as they could fire, one after the other—they were not the only ones that came into the street the Same night, only I was not there—the sound of the discharge of a rifle could not be mistaken for the whistling noise of the ball—it is a matter of impossibility—a man who never heard a rifle before could tell the difference.
MR. METCALFE. Q. I understand you heard the crack of the rifle and the whistle of the ball almost immediately, or at the same time? A. Yes; 1 am positive that those two balls that lodged in the gravel came from those
grounds—I was not prepared for it, it took me by surprise but I know the report came from the direction of Mr. Beasley's grounds—I heard the first ball hit the window—the target is in front of the sand-bags; they are piled up behind the target, and rise up above it—the height of the sand-bags is, as near as I can tell you, eleven or twelve feet from the bottom of the cutting—I should think the depth of the cutting is about eight feet; so the sand-bag would be about three feet above the surface of the embankment, and above the level of the road behind, and then on the top of the sand-bags there are some of those wooden faggots placed—with the exception of the faggots, the top would be three feet above the surface of the road behind, where I was standing—I think those houses are properly represented on the model—I should almost fancy they came nearer towards the back of the butt—the Marquis of Cornwallis stands more that way—that would be the gardens, and a piece of kitchen garden—the kitchen garden comes right up behind the butt; the Albert-road comes up as far as end of the houses, and behind those houses is another road—you can go right into Victoria-park; right through, leading right into Victoria-park—there is no obstruction between the back of the butt and the Victoria-road, and the Victoria-park-road—there is nothing to prevent shots passing over there—the distance from the butt to the farthest road, the Victoria-park-road, would be about seventy yards—the whole range is 150, so that a bullet would range some 600 yards even beyond the Victoria-park-road—a bullet ranges 800 or 1,000 yards—I dare say it would destroy life at 800 yards—quite at 800 or 900, if it would not at 1,000, and it would range a little beyond that as a spent ball—there is a class of rifle that will carry 1,200 yards.
SAMUEL BARTHOLOMEW . I live at 8, Albert-road, Old Ford—that is three doors from the house of last witness—I remember the evening of 3d December—I know this butt—I had heard the reports of the rifles before that me, at night I had heard them on other days, in the evening, and have seen persons in the ground shooting at this butt about 8 o'clock—on the evening of 3d December, in consequence of something I was told, I went up into one of my front bedrooms, and my son gave me a shot that he picked up in the room—I did not see him pick it up—I did not observe the mark the wall at that time—I did next morning—it was dark when I went up at first—it was such a mark as might be made by a rifle bullet—I after wards saw Mr. Beasley with reference to this matter—he came round to my house—I went round there in the first instance—I met him and told him I had had a shot enter my window—I of course concluded it came from there, because I heard the firing there—he came round to my house—some gentleman who came with him from the rifle ground said that he shot picked up under the window, had been thrown through the window—I said, "No one could throw it through; it took a piece out of he Venetian blind"—I had observed the state of the blind—it was a Venetian blind, made of wood, and the ball had taken a piece right out of one of the wooden laths—the hole in the wall which I saw next morning was in a position corresponding with the hole in the blind—Mr. Beasley said he had no doubt the ball had come through the window—he did not say anything more—I did not see him again with reference to this matter—he has been round to my place once or twice, but I happened to be out.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. This is the only matter you complain of; this bullet going through is what you complain of? A. Of course it is
what I complain of—I examined the glass of the window—the pane was not smashed—there was a hole through it have not cut it out and brought it here—the glass was splintered a little, but still there was a round hole with stars a little round it did not make a hole through the lath of the blind—it took a piece out of the edge of it—I have not brought that here either—this is not the first time I have spoken of the blind being broken or smashed by this ball—I have said so from the first—nobody came to my house previously to Mr. Beasley that night, I believe—Mr. Beasley came round, and, I think, two gentlemen with him—I met the policeman—I was about proceeding to the police-station with the ball, and I met the policeman at the top of the street—Mr. Beasley was not at first refused admission into my house for several minutes—the two gentlemen that came with him were, at first—the sergeant went upstairs with me to examine the place—there was no other stranger there.
ELIZABETH BARTHOLOMEW . I am the wife of last witness—on the night of 3d December last, a shot came in at my bedroom window—we heard & smash of glass, and my son George picked up a bullet in the room—he gave it to his father.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. How was the glass broken 1 A. It was a large round hole about the size of an orange—the splinters of glass were scattered about the floor—Mr. Beasley brought two gentlemen that night—I don't recollect one of them, on being shown the bullet and looking at the glass, saying it never was fired out of a rifle, it had been thrown in—there was a small piece cut out of the blind—after the bullet entered the window it struck the blind, and then it struck the wall opposite the window, and then bounded back again as far as the window—it was found nearly underneath the window—it is a brick wall, brick and plaster, papered—the papering was damaged very little; only the size of the shot—it entered the wall about half an inch or three-quarters—it made a hole in the wall that you could put your finger in—I should think it was about twenty minutes after it had been found, that the two gentlemen came in with Mr. Beasley and were shown the bullet—they were not long outside before they were admitted—the policeman was in the house; no one else, but myself, my husband, and family—my husband did not like to let strange gentlemen upstairs into his bedroom.
GEORGE BARTHOLOMEW . I am the son of he last witness—on the night of 3d December, I was in a room in our house, at the back of the front bedroom—I heard the window broken—I got a light and went into that room, and found the window broken—I looked about and found a shot on the ground—I gave it to my father.
JONATHAN BUTCHER (Policeman, K 56). I was on duty in the neighbour-hood of h these shooting grounds—I was there on 3d December—I had known the grounds before that—I have seen persons shooting there, and heard the firing also on 3d December, about half-past 8 in the evening—the firing commenced at these grounds some three or four months previously, and continued up to 3d December, when I heard firing, and also received information from the Bart Holmes—I then went to Mr. Beasley, and told him that a bullet had just been fired into the window of Mr. Bartholomew's bedroom, and that he had better cease firing—he went with me into the ground where the firing was—I found about thirty persons there, with rifles; members of different corps, in different uniforms—Mr. Beasley told them to stop firing—I then went close to the target and picked up a
bullet there, which corresponded exactly with the one picked up in the bed-room—I have the bullet here that struck the target; the other two I have unfortunately lost—Mr. Beasley went with me to Mr. Bartholomew's—I saw the hole in the glass, and the broken part of the blind—I saw the hole in the wall next morning—the bullet which was picked up corresponded with the one I picked up by the target—it fitted exactly the hole in the wall—there was some paper adhering to the bullet—I heard two bullets that evening—that was after I went to Mr. Beasley's—the firing recommenced afterwards—Mr. Beasley saw, with me, what had taken place at the house, and was shown the bullet—he went back by himself to his premises, and I stopped in the albert-road for about three or four minutes afterwards—the firing recommenced about two or three minutes after that—it appeared to be a number of rifles—while standing in the albert-road that evening, I heard a bullet whistle by, just over my head—I do not know where it lodged; it went right away—the next one which I heard directly afterwards lodged in a stone heap at the end of the road, about fourteen or fifteen yards from where I was standing—there can be no doubt at all about it—the whistle of these conical balls is peculiar—that I was shown in the room had some of the paper of the room adhering to it—when I heard the balls whistle in the road, I went back to Mr. Beasley, and told him that I distinctly heard two bullets pass me in the albert-road, and that he had better stop firing—he said, "I see you want to make a case of it; stop it if you can"—I went into the grounds that time also, just inside the gate—I observed the riflemen—I should say there were about a dozen of them drunk—they were quite drunk—this would be about 9 o'clock—the place was lighted up—I believe the defendant had not a beer license, but I was not aware of it at the time—they were drawing beer at the premises—I know that beer was being drawn in the house attached to the premises—victoria-park-road would be about 100 yards from the back of the target, drawing a straight line—it runs right across the back of the target—if a bullet goes over the top of the target, there is nothing to intercept it from the road—the victoria-road comes between the target and the victoria-park-road—the victoria-park-road is very much frequented—on the following morning I looked at he stone heap where I had heard the bullet whistle—I found a bullet—the place corresponded with where I heard the noise—it appeared to have been flattened, as if fired.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Where is that bullet? A. That I have lost, unfortunately, coming home from the police-court—Mr. Bartholomew saw me take it out of the stone heap—I did not give it in charge to my inspector—I put them into my pocket, and they worked a hole through in coming home from the court—this, having a large end, did not get out—I produced the three bullets before the magistrate—about a quarter of an hour elapsed between' my first and second visit to Mr. Beasley's premises—I found the ten or twelve persons drunk, both on the first and second occasion—I did not count the number of persons there—there were ten or twelve of them drunk—I mean that the persons who were firing were drunk—some were in the volunteer's dress, and some were in plain clothes—some were firing, and some were looking on—I mean to pledge my oath to that—I did not say to Mr. Beasley the first time, "why are you allowing persons who are drunk to fire?"—I said, "you had better stop firing, the bullets are flying ever"—I did not mention about the persons being drunk either time—I saw them drunk—I should say there were about twelve drunk—they were
the worse for drink; I could see that by their walk; they could not walk straight, nor yet talk—I did no count the others; I could not say the number there within one or two—those who did walk straight I considered were sober.
MARY ANN COLLINS . I live nearly opposite, at no. 9, in the albert-road—that is one door nearer to the butt than no.—I have heard the firing in these grounds many times; repeatedly: on 3d December, and before that, up to as early as July—I have heard bullets several times, but have never seen them—I have been at my door when I have heard them—they appeared to go into the ground in the albert-road—I have heard that on many occasions.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Was it anything more than the report that you heard? A. No; nothing more—I cannot say that I heard anything more than rifles going off.
COURT. Q. Do you mean you heard the report of the gun? A. Yes, and I heard the bullet fall into the ground as I thought; I did not see it, but I heard the stones make a noise—I heard something strike the ground.
WALTER KERRISEY (police-inspector, k). In consequence of complaints made to me, I went to the defendant's premises in august, and saw him—I said, "there have been frequent complaints made to me respecting rifle-shooting in your grounds; bullets have passed over the butt, and across into the Victoria-road, and unless the firing is discontinued, proceedings will be taken against you"—he said, "do all you can, do your best"—afterwards, in the month of September, I was standing in park-road, speaking to a Mrs. Walker residing there, and a bullet passed over my head; it seemed to come from the direction of Mr. Beasley's grounds; I saw persons in the grounds shooting—I went to Mr. Beasley s—they were then firing at what they call the short range, sixty yards from the butt; they were drinking ale, those that I saw firing, I said, "Mr. Beasley, I was standing now in the park-road, and a bullet passed over my head; you had better discontinue firing; or else some person will be shot"—I forget what he said; I think his words were, "I can't stop it," or, "you know I can't stop it, Mr. Kerrisey"—I am not certain to the words exactly—I was present when he was summoned before the magistrate—he ought to have been before the magistrate on 19th December, but he did not appear then—he was there on 28th December—I had not seen him before the magistrate before 3d December—there had been no change in the grounds between the 3d and the 28th—on the 28th he promised that if the commissioners of police would suggest what alterations should be made he would make them—I said to him afterwards, when before the magistrate on 3d January, "the commissioners will not take that responsibility upon themselves, but if you will make such alterations as will prevent danger no proceedings will be taken against you"—he promised to make alterations, and asked to be allowed till 17th January—that was granted—no alteration had been made then—he asked for a month longer—I saw him on the 16th—I called his attention to the state of the but then—he asked for further time—I told him he had better appear before the magistrate to-morrow, and he did so—a month further was then allowed him—no alteration was made then—he was allowed till 14th February, and then till 14th march—he promised to make the alteration by that time—no alteration was made on 16th march, and the magistrate then decided upon sending the case for trial—Mr. Beasley did not appear on 14th march, and the constable obtained a warrant—the indictment was found on 1st April.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Between these different periods nobody was
shot, we may take it? A. No—it does not appear so—there is no any other rifle ground in the immediate neighbourhood of this—there is not one within eight hundred or a thousand yards, that I am aware of—there is one at the "White Lion, Hackney-wick—that is about a mile and a half from Mr. Beasley's—I will undertake to swear there is not one within six hundred or eight hundred yards of his.
ABRAHAM QUILTER . I am a sergeant in the Second Tower Hamlets' Militia—I know the grounds occupied by Mr. Beasley—I had hired them formerly for two or three days from Mr. Beasley—I hired them on 2d August last, and I gave them up on the 6th because they were not safe as regards the public—the butt has been altered since I gave it up—since the time I had it it has been raised above seven feet, but now, in consequence of the wet weather and so on, it is not above five feet—it is not sufficiently high in my opinion—I saw it in December last—it was not much higher then than when I had it—it was dangerous then in my opinion.
COURT. Q. What does the danger arise from? A. Not altogether from want of height in the embankment behind, but from the bullets going right and left—I have taken a view of the ground since, and it is not safe—if a bullet went to the right it would perhaps go for half a mile, and perhaps rise a hundred yards—if to the left it would go in the same direction—if fired direct it would be perfectly safe, it might hit the target.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. You are now speaking of inaccurate shooters; supposing you shot through there, do you consider it would be safe for you? A. It would all depend upon the rifle I was shooting with—with a good rifle and perfectly clean it would be safe—if a skilful person was firing through the hole, on 3rd December, even then his bullet might racochet from the ground; that might arise from loss of powder in loading—assuming the gun to be properly loaded, and the man to be of reasonable skill, a person qualified for an instructor, even then he might make a mistake and the bullet might racochet—I would not answer for my own firing at that distance.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Most of these persons go there because they are not skilful, I suppose? A. They go there for practice.
CAPT. GEORGE HENRY BOWDEN . I am a captain in the Scots Fusilier Guards—I have also been musketry instructor for the last five years; I resigned it in he spring—I was employed by the Government in the winter before last, and the early part of last year, in inspecting the rifle ranges of different volunteer corps, for the express purpose of keeping them free from danger—I inspected the ground in question, not three weeks ago, on Monday week or Monday fortnight—assuming the butt to be seven feet higher than when I saw it, it would certainly not be a safe place for shooting—I should never have passed the range under any circumstances, unless the whole of it was roofed in, and made a covered rifle gallery, so as to be made shot-proof—of course, when a bullet hits the target point blank it is safe; but when it hits the edge and glances off there is danger from racochet.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. What do you suggest for improvement? A. I should have the whole place roofed over—if properly roofed over from end to end, it would be safe; if done under my scientific superintendence.
MR. SLEIGH TO ABRAHAM QUILTER . Q. When you took this ground for the purpose of rifle shooting, was not a cutting made under your direction by Mr. Beasley's men? A. No—I thought it was adapted for rifle shooting
when I took the ground—I thought it required no alteration then; no alterations were made whatever, to my knowledge—there were trifling alterations made, such as placing canvas bags or pieces of canvas from tree to tree—I don't consider that an alteration at all—we only had rifle practice there for two days—I did not commence firing on the day I took it—I was at that time seeking the authority of the Government, to permit me to have rifle practice there, under my individual superintendence, that was not refused—it was not granted in one manner, although I believe it was in another; I ought to have made the application through my own officer, and I omitted to do so—when I complained to Beasley that the ground was unsafe, I left it altogether—I have paid him nothing for the use of the ground; he has not paid what he owes me—I rented the place from him—I took it for a month; on the second day of my firing I found the shots were below the embankment, and the place was not safe—I said, "Will you make alterations, and if you have not the means, I will try and assist you in making the place safe;" but he appropriated the premises to his own purposes, and received the proceeds from the volunteers and put them into his pocket—I went to an expense of 7l. 9s. 6d. in putting up targets and so on—I undertook to be responsible for everything which occurred in the ground during the time I had it.
MR. SLEIGH here stated that he could not resist a verdict; and the defendant stating in the hearing of the Jury that he was guilty, the Jury found a verdict of
MR. METCALFE stated that the only object of the prosecutor was to secure the public safety. The defendant entered into his own recognizance in 200l. to appear and receive judgment if called upon.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
416. WILLIAM WILSON (40) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Mary Ann Webster, and stealing therein 1 table-cover, value 12s., 1 table-cloth, value 15s., 4 spoons, value 4s., and other articles. Second Count, Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES ABBOTT . On Friday, 12th April, I met the prisoner in Bowen-street, Bromley, about half-past 2 in the afternoon—he had this bundle with him (produced)—I asked him what he had got in the bundle—he said, "My own property"—I said, "Where did you get it from?"—he said, "I shall not satisfy you"—it contained a table-cover, one table-cloth, and one silk skirt—I told him I was a policeman and should take him to the station—the sergeant there asked him how he accounted for the possession of the things, and he said, "I bought them at Petticoat-lane, and gave 10s. for. them"—I then searched him, and found four spoons, a silver screw, a pair of scissors, a razor, a knife, and 2l. 5s. 11 1/2 d. in money—he refused to give any address.
ROSA WEBSTER . I live at Prospect-place, Kilburn, with my mother, a widow—I recollect on 8th April the drawing-room window being broken open, and some things being taken away—I have seen all these things before—they are my mother's property—I saw them safe on Sunday night, 7th April, and on Monday morning they were missed—there were several
things missing besides what is here—there was a little money taken—nothing like 2l. 5s.
Prisoner's Defence. I bought the things of a person in a street leading out of Petticoat-lane. I did not know that they were stolen or I should not have kept them by me a week after the robbery was committed.
GUILTY on the Second Count.
The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted.
RICHARD MOORE (Policeman, K 40). I produce a certificate—(Read: "25th July, 1860. Thames Police Court; William Wilson, stealing a jacket, waistcoat, and other property, value 2l., of George Cole; Confined Six Months.")—I was present at the police-court—the prisoner is the man.
GUILTY.— Confined Eighteen Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
ERNEST SPIER (through an interpreter). I carry on business as an instrument maker, in the Rue Chalot, at Paris, with my brother—we make opera-glasses, and things of that description—in January I engaged the prisoner to travel for us in England—he was to have 2 1/2 francs a day, besides his travelling expenses—the 12 1/2 francs was to go for his support, and his carriage was paid extra—when he left Paris we gave him three boxes of samples—among them were opera-glasses, of different patterns, fourteen microscopes, eighteen eye-glasses, eighteen eye-glass frames, twelve eases of mathematical instruments, some compasses, and achromatic glasses, besides many other things—he was to show them, and to get orders upon them—he had no authority to sell or part with the samples—116l. was the value of them—I gave him 20l. at starting, and sent him 50l. afterwards—after he went we, for some time, received letters, and a few orders; rather regularly at first—that regularity ceased from 24th March—he ought to have written twice a week—he continued to write twice a week, nearly, until 24th March, with the exception of once, when it was a fortnight—when I found he was getting irregular I wrote to him—I wrote this letter of 24th March (This was addressed to the prisoner in London, requesting to hear from him, and directing him to send back the samples)—I received this letter in answer (This was dated Black Bull, London, 30th March, 1861, acknowledging the receipt of the prosecutor's letter, and excusing himself for not having written; stating that he was about representing a house at Stet tin, and requesting to be allowed to continue to act as an agent for the prosecutor. Another letter of the prosecutor's, dated 2d April, was read, requesting the prisoner to send the samples to the prosecutor's brother-in law in London; and in reply to that a letter dated 6th April, stated that he would send the sample-cases to the prosecutor's brother-in-law in London, and that he should be in Paris towards the end of the following week)—I have seen the samples since I have been in London—I identify these (produced) as the samples—they are all marked with our mark—some of the marks have been partly obliterated; a portion of the marks remain on—I cannot exactly say what proportion of the instruments we sent out as samples have been recovered; I have not
particularly noticed—about two-thirds have been found—the others I have never seen again—this is one of the cases that the prisoner took them away in; it is fitted up with trays.
Prisoner. Q. Before leaving Paris did not you give me orders to sell the samples before coming back? A. No—I told you in my letter of 24th March not to sell the samples; that was because I had not heard from you for a fortnight, and I began to fear there was something wrong—I have travellers in Paris—they sell their samples before coming back, when I give them orders to do so—the value of the boxes and trays was about 6l. or 7l.; but I have not calculated them in the 116l.—the trays were made before the boxes—the opera-glasses and telescopes were in the trays, separate—they always have the case with them, because in showing them to get orders it shows them how they fit in, and the manner in which they would be forwarded to them—it is the custom of travellers to take them with them.
COURT. Q. Were all these opera-glasses of the same quality? A. No, different qualities; the cases are of a different manufacture.
Prisoner. Q. In December last did you not go on a journey? A. I was two days away—I did not leave some samples at St. Jean—I do not manufacture the opera-glasses; the mathematical instruments I do—my manufactories are at Paris and at Ligne—at Ligne the manufactory goes under the name of another party, who supplies myself and one other house—I have mathematical instruments made at Ligne and finished of! at Paris—they are fixed in the boxes at Paris—I have them made; I do not make them myself—I can identify these goods because my number and mark are on them—your writing is on the tickets—these are the numbers which you wrote in my presence.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Do these numbers which the prisoner has asked you about correspond with your entries? A. They do—I never allowed any traveller to pledge goods.
ERNEST HINSTIN . I live at 22, Milk-street, and am a merchant—I am the brother-in-law of Messrs. Spier, of Paris, and act, not as their agent, but as a friend merely—I did on this occasion act as their agent—I occasionally saw the prisoner, when he wanted some money—I gave him 50l. between January and March, on account of Messrs. Spier—the last payment was on 22d March—I then gave him 10l.—in consequence of information, I communicated with the police on 22d April.
Prisoner. Q. On 22d March, when I was at your place, did you not ask me what my expenses had been on an average? A. I talked to you in a general way; I did not ask you that, because I knew very well—I said you had been spending a great deal of money—I remember saying you had been out sixty-two days and spent 70l.
THEODORE HALSTEAD FOULGER (City-policeman). I and Smith, another officer, went on 22d April to the Bull Hotel in Holborn, and the last witness with us; we found three cases similar to those produced—they were empty with the exception of a few trifling articles—after that I went to 14, St Martin's-street, Leicester-square, and saw Mr. Sellingham—I received from him two duplicates relating to a case of mathematical instruments, and eighteen eye-glass frames, pawned at Attenborough's, on 5th April, and one case pawned on 20th April—between 2 and 3 o'clock the next morning Smith and I went to the Elephant coffee-house in Oxford-street—I saw the prisoner there; he was in bed—I told him was charged with illegally disposing of Messrs. Spier's property—he said, "It is no such thing, I had. a right to do so"—I said, "You had not; who did you dispose of them to?"
—he said, "To a gentleman in St. Martin's-street—I went with him to 14, St. Martin's-street, and saw a person of the name of Sellingham—I asked Sellingham, in the prisoner's presence, if he had disposed of anything to him—he said, "Yes," and he gave me a bill—this is the bill he produced to me, amounting to 64l.—it is, "Edward Sellingham, bought of J. M. Levy, 22, High Holborn, thirty-five opera-glasses, forty boxes of instruments, job lot of magnifiers, twenty telescopes, altogether 64l.; received J. M. Levy, 3/4/61"—That was given me by Mr. Sellingham in the prisoner's presence—he said that he had got the things from Levy, a few at a time, and then used to go and dispose of them under Levy's direction, and return him the money, after deducting his commission—I found under the bed at Selling-ham's, a leather bag, which contains eleven opera-glasses—they are some of the opera-glasses that the prosecutor has seen—they each bear a little piece of card with a number on them—I also received three microscopes and some other property also containing the prosecutor's marks—the prisoner told me he had sold some opera-glasses to a pawnbroker in Farringdon-street—I have seen them.
WILLIAM SMITH (City-policeman). I went with the last witness—amongst other things I found a portmanteau at Sellingham's, and in it I found, amongst other letters, the letters which have been produced and read to-day, dated 24th and 29th March, and 7th April—the prisoner said he was going to Paris that morning—he said the portmanteau was his own—I found some achromatic glasses, and a great quantity of articles, at Sellingham's lodging, in the drawers.
JOHN EMPSON . I keep the Black Bull in Holborn—the prisoner came to lodge there about 5th March, and remained until the day previous to his being taken in custody, 15th April, I think—I saw the three sample cases which the constable took possession of afterwards—the prisoner had those with him—I saw Sellingham there—the prisoner and he took away a carpet bag—I did not know the contents—it was full—I had a bill against the prisoner at the time for 5l. odd—I asked him for it when I saw the things going away—he brought me a portion of it that day, 3l., and said I should have the other in a day or two; he said he would deliver the goods he had sold, and he should be going away in a day or two, and 1 should have the remainder of the bill—my bill was paid.
Prisoner. Q. Who was it had the carpet bag on the day you mention; was it I or Sellingham? A. Not you; Sellingham.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did it come empty and go away full? A. Yes.
WILLIAM LARK . I am manager to Mr. Lawley, of Farringdon-street, pawnbroker—I showed three opera-glasses to Foulger, the constable; the others have been sold since they were purchased—I received seven from the prisoner on 8th March—they were purchased for 2l. 5s. for the seven.
COURT. Q. When were the four sold? A. I cannot tell exactly now, I could by referring to our books—one I know was sold for 9s. 6d., and another for 10s., the others I cannot remember.
Prisoner. Q. Did I not sell them to you at the market price, or very near? A. You asked a price and I gave it to you—I did not consider it much under the regular price, it was a little under; the goods, I considered were common—I was induced to purchase them because they were a little under price—they were not pledged, but purchased to sell again.
GEORGE HAWKINS . I am manager to Mr. Attenborough, of 93, Charlotte-street, Fitzroy-square, pawnbroker—I produce eighteen eye-glass frames, pawned on 5th April, for 3l.—they are kept in stock for the glasses to be
fitted in by the customer himself—I have seen the duplicate produced by the officer.
Prisoner. Q. Were those goods pawned by me? A. No, nor by the witness I saw at the police-court; by an entirely different party, by Mr. Julian, for Mr. Levy, that was the name given—120, Holborn, is the address on the ticket.
GEORGE SLATER . I am assistant to Mr. Sayers, pawnbroker, Brydges street, Covent-garden—I produce a case of mathematical instruments pawned on 20th April for 1l. 15s., and eleven microscopes pawned on the same day for 1l.—Mr. Sellingham pawned them—the duplicate produced by Foulger corresponds with my duplicate.
EDWARD SELLINGHAM . I reside at 14, St. Martin's-street, Leicester-square, and am a commercial traveller—I have known the prisoner five or six years; he is connected with me by marriage—I remember the officers coming to my place—I gave them some articles which I had received from the prisoner—I pawned some microscopes and mathematical instruments—I received them from the prisoner—I pawned them by his desire—the microscope was pledged for 20s.—I paid the money to the prisoner—I received five per cent, commission—the day before the police came to my place, I told him I was frightened the things were not right, that I ought not to sell them—he said, "I have the right to sell them, because I had the order from Mr. Spier before I came from Paris"—so I said to him, "But if Mr. Spier was to tell you I had no right to sell for you, what am I to do?"—he said "You have no business about it; you sell for me, and I will give you a receipt," and the receipt was given to me—I sold for 2l. one day, 1l. another, 3l. another day, and gave him the money; and when I told him I liked to have a receipt he gave me the receipt, so that nobody should ask me for the money I had paid once—it was about the beginning of April that he gave it me—the duplicates that I gave to the officer I received from the pawnbrokers for these goods; one I received from the prisoner to fetch it out—the one to Slater was pledged by me, not the eye-glasses—he gave me the money a few days before he went away to France, to take them out and keep for him till he came back.
Prisoner. Q. Do you know when I was in London first, about what' date? A. I think in February—I was at your house in the evening about 9 o'clock, in Essex-street, Strand—when I went there you were in bed—I think that was on a Monday—I do not remember exactly whether it was in January or February—you told me when I came, that day or the day after, that you should have your samples to sell before you went back to Paris—the telescopes and opera-glasses were in no cases; the cases were in another box, like this (produced)—I do not remember exactly, but I think they were without paper.
The prisoner, in a long defence, urged that if he had committed any offence it was not one against the English law, but one for which he could only be answerable in France; that the articles were entrusted to him to obtain orders upon, and then to be disposed of; and that his expenses having exceeded the amount realized by the articles, the prosecutors were in his debt, and he was in no respect answerable to them.
GUILTY .— Confined Fifteen Months.
There was another indictment against the prisoner.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, May 7th, 1861.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. COPELAND, M.P.; MR. Ald. MECHI; Mr. Ald, JAMES LAWRENCE: and MR. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY .
She had been nine times in custody for similar offences.— Four years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BOND . I was formerly a police-constable—I produce a certificate—Read: (" Central Criminal Court, Sept. 1860. George Edwards, convicted of uttering two counterfeit half-crowns within two days. Confined Six Months")—the prisoner is the person—I had him in custody.
WILLIAM SPONG . I keep the Brown Bear, in Broad-street, Bloomsbury—on Thursday night, 5th April, about five minutes past 12 at night, the prisoner came for a pint of beer, which came to 2d. and gave me a shilling—I bent it with my teeth, and told him it was bad—he gave me a good one, and I gave him the change—I detained him, and gave him in charge with the shilling.
Prisoner. Q. Did it pass out of your sight? A. Out of my hand, but not out of my sight—it did not pass out of the house till I gave it to the policeman.
JULIA BOX . My uncle keeps the Red Lion public-house, Shire-lane—on Sunday, 31st March, about half-past 1, the prisoner came, called for a glass of ale, and gave me a bad half crown—I told him it was bad, he-said he did not know it—my uncle bent it with his teeth, and gave the prisoner in charge—I did not lose sight of it—the prisoner had been there about three weeks before, and tried to pass a bad shilling to me, which I refused, and returned it to him without disfiguring it, and he gave me a good sixpence.
Prisoner. Q. How could I be there three weeks before? I was in prison at that time. A. It was three weeks before, as nearly as I can guess—I am sure you are the man.
THOMAS LOOKER (Policeman, 139 F). I was called to the Red Lion on 31st March, and the prisoner was given into my charge—he gave his name John Williams—he was taken to Bow-street, remanded till 8th April, then to the 18th, and then discharged.
ELIZABETH KNOWLES . My husband is the landlord of the Comical Fellows—on 16th April the prisoner came there for a glass of ale—I served him—he gave me a half-crown—I tried it with my teeth, found it was
bad and told him so, asking if he was aware of it—he said, "No; I took it just now"—I gave it back to him—he gave me a good sixpence, and left—I then began to talk to my husband and the people about it, and presently a policeman brought the prisoner back and showed me the half-crown which I had marked with my teeth.
ABSOLOM REBBECK (Policeman, 41 P). On 16th April, I found the prisoner about 200 yards from the Comical Fellows—I told him I he and he had been uttering a bad half-crown—he took a half-crown out of his pocket and said, "That is the half-crown; do you think it is bad?"—I took him back to the house, and he was identified by the landlady—he said that he got it about a week before in Oxford-street, where he pledged a pair of trousers, but did not know the pawnbroker's name or the number of his house—he was taken to Lambeth Police-court, and discharged on the 19th—he gave his name Patrick Dolan.
Prisoner's Defence. I received them in change for a sovereign. I was very drunk when I went into the house, and did not know whether they were good or bad.
GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES HARRIS . I am landlord of the Bull's Head, Wapping—on 11th April, the prisoner came for half a pint of half-and-half, and gave me a six-pence—I gave her 5d. change and directly she was outside the door I tried it with my teeth, went after her, and told her it was bad—she said nothing—I took her to the station and gave the sixpence to a constable.
Prisoner. Q. You put the sixpence in the till? A. I did not; I kept it in my hand, and am positive it is the same DANIEL RAY (Thames-policeman, 28). I received the prisoner and this sixpence (produced)—she gave her address, 24, Noble-street, Clerkenwell—I inquired there, but she was not known—I only found 5 1/2 d. on her.
AMELIA RICHARDSON . I live with my sister at the Hope public-house, John-street, Smithfield—on 8th March the prisoner came for half a quartern of gin, which came to 2 1/2 d.—she gave me a florin—I gave her the change, and she left—I kept it in my hand, found directly that it was bad, and put it on a shelf, where it remained for about an hour—about a week afterwards, 1 saw my sister throw it in the fire, and I saw it melt—on 16th March, the prisoner came again for a glass of porter, and gave my sister a shilling—she bent it, and returned it, and the prisoner gave her a good one—I spoke to Strut, the barman—the prisoner came again on 23d, and Strut called me and showed me a bad shilling in the prisoner's presence—I told her it was bad; she said that she did not know it—Strut put the shilling down', the prisoner took it up, and I took it from her, saying that it was bad, and that she had been there two or three times before, and I should give her in charge, which I did—she was discharged at the police-office.
CORNELIUS STRUTT . I am barman at the Hope—on 23d March the prisoner came for half a quartern of gin, and gave me a bad shilling—I had seen her on the Kith, when she tried to pass a bad shilling to my mistress—I told Miss Richardson—I laid down the shilling—the prisoner took it up, and Miss Richardson took it from her directly.
was searched by the female searcher, who found a good florin and shilling on her—she gave her name Sarah Hylock, 24, Compton-street, Clerkenwell—I inquired there, but could learn nothing of her—she was taken to Clerkenwell police-court on the 25th, remanded till the 27th, and then to the 3d April, when she was discharged.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know that they were bad.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the prosecution.
MARY ANN CHISNALL . My husband keeps the Nor they arms public-house, Limehouse—the prisoner came there on 23d march for a glass of ale—I served her—she gave me a florin—I gave her 1s. 10 1/2 d. Out and she left—a Mrs. Wilson came in for her supper beer at the time, and gave me a half-crown, and I gave her that florin in change—It had not been out of my hand before I gave it to her—she left, and came back in about five minutes—from what she said, I found that it was bad—I gave her two shillings for it—I laid the florin by, separate from other money—I gave it to the constable, Bryant, on 15th April, on which day I saw the prisoner again—she came between 9 and 10 o'clock in the evening, called for a glass of ale, and tendered me another florin—I put it in my teeth, and found it was bad—I bent it in the detector, and laid it on the counter—I said, "it is a bad one, and you are the person that passed me one two or three weeks ago"—she snatched it up, and ran out of the house—my husband went after her, and brought her back with the police—when she came back she said she had never been in the house, and had no knowledge of it.
Prisoner. Q. How can you say that you had taken it on 23d march, when you told the policeman you took it two or three weeks ago; and then the policeman told you to try and remember? A. Yes; I did say it was two or three weeks ago: the policeman said, "do you recollect the date?" And I said, "yes, I do; it was the 23d March"—I did not say that I gave the policeman the two-shilling piece the night before—I did not say, "you are very much like a woman that has been here two or three weeks ago, and gave me a two-shilling piece;" I said "you are the person"—I did not state on oath that the piece was marked on the 23d—I did on the 23d march ask you for the change of the two-shilling piece—nothing of the sort was mentioned—I did not say that if you did not return me the change of the half-crown I would lock you up.
MR. COOKE. Q. When you put the coin down as bad, on 15th April, did she run away? A. Yes—I told her she had been there before—my husband was present.
COURT. Q. Did the policeman call you into a private room on 15th April? A. No; 1 marked the piece on 15th April, and not on 23d march—(the witness's deposition, being read, stated, "a few minutes afterwards Mrs. Wilson brought me lock a florin, and from what she said I found it was bad; I put it away by itself, and kept it till 15th April, when I gave it to the constable grimes, who now produces it.")
JOSEPH CHISNALL . I am the landlord of the Nor they arms. On 15th April I saw my wife receive a two-shilling piece, put it in the trier, bend it, and put it on the counter—she said, "this is a bad one, and you are the same party that passed one to me three or four weeks ago"—the prisoner took it up from the counter, and ran out of the house—she had not drunk
the ale—I ran out after her, and caught her twenty or thirty yards from the house—I took hold of her, and said, "you have passed a bad two-shilling piece to my wife"—she said, "let me go, let me go; I am a poor unfortunate girl; I only came up from ports mouth the day before"—I said, "I will let you go as soon as the constable comes, and I shall give you in charge"—she begged hard of me after that to let her right hand go, which I was silly enough to do—she put it up to her mouth, and the people cried to me, "look at the woman, she is choking"—I looked at her, and she was quite black, and then she begged of me to let her go—she said, "a man gave me the two-shilling piece by the church"—I took her back to the house, and then she swore that she had never been in my house at all.
WILLIAM GRIMES (policeman, k 291). I found the prisoner at the beer-shop of the last witness—she was given into custody—I produce a counterfeit florin, which I had from Mrs. Chisnall—the prisoner said she had not been there—I asked her where she lived—she said that she had got no home, that she only came up from ports mouth the night previous—when she was searched, there was found on her a good half-crown and three farthings.
Prisoner. Q. Had not you the half-crown in your hand in front of the bar? A. Yes—you did not tell me not to give it to the landlady to take the change of a two-shilling piece out of it—I returned it to you, and you placed it in your pocket, and I then said, "you must go to the station."
Prisoner. I asked him what charge he had against me; I went to the station-house with him; as they were going along the road, he and the prosecutor were stopping in different parts of the road, settling how they would make the statement up. Witness. That is not so—there was another constable behind—he did not refuse to take you; he was never asked—we did not remain about an hour in the office before we could make up our minds whether we would enter the charge or not—you did not beg of me to come to your lodgings at a coffee-house in Lambeth.
ANN WILSON . I was at the Nor they arms on 23d march last, and saw the prisoner there—I got a florin in change for a half-crown from Mrs. Chisnall—I left, and took the florin away with me—I found out that it was bad directly I got indoors—I live right opposite—I took it back, and gave it back to Mrs. Chisnall—It was never out of my hand—I am quite sure it was the same one she had given me.
Prisoner's defence. I have never been in the house in my life. I called for a glass of ale, and she said, "you are very much like the woman that was here two or three weeks ago, and passed a bad two-shilling piece;" and she said that if I did not give her back the change she would give me in custody. I went to the station with the policeman. I told the inspector I was not aware that she had taken a bad two-shilling piece, and that I would not give her change for what I knew nothing about. I told him I was living with my friends, who kept a coffee-house in Lambeth.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the prosecution.
ELIZA CROWSON . My husband keeps a coffee-house at 10, west Smithfield—the prisoner came there alone on 9th April, about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, and had a cup of tea and a slice of bread and butter—he gave a bad shilling—I sent for a policeman and gave him in charge, with the shilling—I had seen the prisoner before that, on the 4th—he was served then with half a pint of coffee and two slices of bread and butter—he gave a two-shilling piece—
Miss Sparks served him then—she brought me the two-shilling piece, and I gave her in change a shilling, a sixpence, and fourpence in copper, good money—she came back two or three minutes after to change the shilling; he did not like the look of it, and said, would I please to give him another—I changed it—I found it was a bad shilling—I put it in the detector, bent it, and put it in the fire—that was within a quarter of an hour after the time he had left—I did not put it in the till at all—I had a suspicion at the time I changed it, and I kept it in my hands till I threw it in the fire—I did not observe it melt; I had a large fire, and I was busy.
Prisoner. She said at Guildhall that she thought I was the man. Witness. I was quite positive—I did not tell the policeman that I only thought so.
COURT. Q. How did you bend the shilling? A. In a detector; it bent pretty easily.
MR. COOKE. Q. Are you certain the money you gave Miss Sparks was a good shilling? A. Yes, quite certain.
EMILY SPARES . I am waitress at a coffee-house in West Smithfield—on 4th April I served the prisoner with half a pint of coffee and two slices of bread and butter, which came to two pence—he gave me a two shilling piece—I gave it to my mistress for change, and gave him a shilling, a sixpence, and fourpence in copper—in one or two minutes he said, "I do not much like the look of this shilling, will you please to change it?"—I had in the meantime been serving another customer at the next table—I took it to my mistress, brought another back and gave to him—he then went away—four days afterwards, on the 8th, he came again, at 7 o'clock in the morning, and had half a pint of coffee and a slice—he gave me a shilling in payment—I took it, tried it, found it bad, gave it back to him, and asked him if he had any more money—he said he had only a penny—I took the bread and butter from him, and took the penny for the coffee—he came again the next day at ten minutes past 5—I knew him, and spoke to my mistress about him—he was sitting near the door that time—he gave the money to me, and I gave it to my mistress—it was a bad shilling—she bent it—I am sure he is the man that was there the three times I served.
JOHN LEWIS (City Policeman, 262). I took the prisoner in charge on 9th April—I took him to the station-house and searched him—I found no money on him—I got this bad shilling (produced) from Mrs. Crowson.
Prisoner. Q. On 10th April, when you were taking me by Smithfield, did you not say to me, "Mrs. Crowson thinks you are the party that was in there a day or two ago, and rung the changes on her for a counterfeit shilling?" A. I did not.
Prisoner's Defence. On 9th March I went from Billingsgate-marke to Charles-street, Westminster; I had about 6s. in my pocket. I got drinking up there, and playing at skittles. I played a man for sixpence and a pint of ale, and I lost; on the last two games I lost a shilling, and had two pints of ale to pay for. I said, "Here, take your shilling and give me eighteen pence out of this half-crown, and we will have two pots more, and then go home." On my coming home I went into this lady's shop. I was sitting down eating and the policeman came in and took me. Do you think, if I intended to get my living by uttering, I should go in two days running, with counterfeit shillings? I must be sure that she would know me or lock me up. I can prove where I was; I was not in the city all day long; at the time she charges me I was at Stepney fair. I am perfectly innocent of what I am charged with.
GUILTY .—(The prisoner stated that he had been before convicted, in 1859, in the name of Smith; and that he wished to have four years' penal servitude, in order to be freed from his present companions).— Confined Six Months.
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES DUFF GRANT . I am a clerk at the Oriental Bank—I acted as cashier on 23d June, when a bill of exchange was presented for payment—I cannot say whether the prisoner is the person—I believe it had the endorsement—I should not have paid it without—it is payable to the order of Thomas Barnes—I paid it with this 5l. note, No. 97298, April 27, 1860 (produced), and three sovereigns—it must have been endorsed by the payee.
Cross-examined by MR. ORRIDGE. Q. You merely say that that endorsement was on the bill, because it is your custom only to pay a bill which is properly endorsed? A. Yes.
CHARLES SHOREY . I am with Mr. West, an ironmonger, of the City-road—I have known the prisoner seven years—he paid me a 5l. note last year; I cannot recollect the date, but my employer paid it into the bank on 2d July—I cannot swear to the note, but the prisoner put his name on the back of it in the shop, and I believe this is his writing—it is something like the "L" of Lane, but it is over a stamp.
Cross-examined. Q. Is he a cabinet-maker? A. Yes; and I always understood that he carried on business on his own account—I have not been intimate with him—I have seen his writing on bills sent to our place—I can swear that the "Geo. Lane" at the back of this bill is his writing—I do not know his friend Thomas Barnes—this "Thos. Barnes" written on the back of the note, I know nothing about—it is different writing and different ink.
THOMAS BARNES . I am assistant to a jeweller in Newington-causeway—my brother-in-law, Henry Wilkins, of New Zealand, owes me money—this bill of exchange in the name of Henry Wilkins is my correspondent's bill—this endorsement, Thomas Barnes, is neither written by me, or by my authority, or knowledge—the prisoner is my brother-in-law—this "George Lane" on the back of the bill is, to the best of my belief, his writing—it came to my knowledge that it had arrived, and had been cashed at the Oriental Bank—the prisoner did not come to me till after I had put the law in motion—he then came with his brother, and said that he had come to know what terms I would come to—I said that I had written to the bank, and before I could do anything I must write to the bank authorities again—he said, "I will pay you in two months"—I said, "That will do for me if it will do for the bank, but I am afraid it is too late"—the brother said that I could not do anything until Wilkins came home, and wanted to know when he should see me again—I said that he might call on Saturday.
Cross-examined. Q. Was your brother present as well as his brother? A. No—they did not come to me again—I only saw the prisoner after that when I went with the detective—nothing was said about my receiving 2l. on Saturday, or about my receiving two instalments before June—I have known the prisoner eight or nine years; he and I married sisters—I lived with him about six weeks—I have not had more than two dealings with him—I believe he has lent me half-a-crown—on my oath I owe him nothing for board and lodging—I was lodging at his house last Christmas
twelvemonth—we were not, after that, on very intimate terms—we have had no quarrel and I do not know that our wives have—they were on good terms till last night—the prisoner separated from his wife in January, this year—I had a note, in January, from my uncle, stating that the money had been sent to George Lane, and that he had sent back to say that he had received it and would send back a receipt for it—I did not go to see him afterwards—I wrote him a note, but got no answer—I knew where he lived; 6, Bird port-lane, but when he was apprehended he lived at 51, Banner-street—I never went to him; his wife was at my house, and I said that I should inquire into it—she did not go to the bank or write there to my knowledge; I have heard nothing about it—I never heard that my wife and his wife gave information to the bank—the only other transactions I have had with him are selling him a brooch and a watch—the half-crown I borrowed of him is the greatest amount of money I ever owed him—I called on the prisoner in December, to see if any letter had come for me, and told him I had written to Henry Wilkins; he said that I was never to expect the money till I got it—I had talked to him, it may have been a twelvemonth before, about the money which was owing to me, and I may have said during the twelvemonth that I expected to receive it—we have never had any conversation about the disposal of other money—he was in difficulties at the beginning of last year, but I did not offer to help him—he did not tell me about his difficulties, but his wife did; she never asked me if any money arrived from Wilkins to be allowed to use it—the only conversation that arose about the matter was, that I told her that her husband had received my money and I should see into it—no conversation ever passed about his making use of it—his wife was not living at my house, she lived at 10, Grange-street, Hoxton, about half a mile off—she was on very friendly terms with my wife, but the prisoner and I have not spoken since our wives have been parted.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did he leave his wife, or did she leave him? A. I cannot say; but they are not living together—the first information I had about the money having been received in London, was the communication from my uncle in January, this year—up to that time I was not aware that the bill had been received—I told my uncle that the prisoner had received this money and given a receipt for it—I then wrote a note to the prisoner about the end of January or beginning of February, saying, "I have a letter in my possession which says that the 8l. has been sent to you, and unless you send it to me in a few days I shall put it into other hands"—I never received any reply till April, when I took active steps about it, and never saw him again till he called and asked me to compromise it—the half-crown was lent when I was out of a situation and my wife was confined, and I went round and asked his wife to lend me half a crown—there is no pretence for the suggestion that I authorized him to receive money or appropriate it to his own use.
GEORGE PURSELL . I am a detective officer—I received information and went with Mr. Barnes to apprehend the prisoner—his brother was with him and I said, "I have come concerning a bill of exchange for 8l. which has been presented for payment"—his brother said, "I thought that matter could be arranged; it is quite a family affair"—I said, "If that is the case, you had better both accompany me to the Oriental Bank"—they did so—I told the prisoner, going along, that he had no occasion to give any explanation, but whatever he said would be used against him—the only explanation
he afforded to the Magistrate was, that he did not want to pay the bill to his brother, and he said, "I want to settle it."
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his good character, and the probable temptation of poverty. — Confined Six Months.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, May 8th, 1861.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; MR. BARON CHANNELL; MR. JUSTICE WILLES; SIR JAMES DUKE, Bart. M.P. Ald.; Sir FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart. Ald.; and Mr. Ald. HALE.
Before Mr. Justice Willes.
427. JOHN RENSCH (31), was indicted for stealing, whilst employed under the Post-office, 2 post letters containing half of a 50l. bank note; 7 halves of 10l. notes; and 8 halves of 5l. notes, the property of Her Majesty's Postmaster-General; and MARY ANN RENSCH (31), was indicted for feloniously receiving the same.
JOHN RENSCH— PLEADED GUILTY .— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. METCALFE, for the prosecution, offered no evidence against
MARY ANN RENSCH— NOT GUILTY .
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
LEVI CLARKE . I am landlord of the Green Man public-house, Hoxton—on the morning of Wednesday, 17th April, I was called out of bed about 2 o'clock by a policeman, and my attention directed to the cellar-flap—I found it raised—the policeman told me somebody was in the cellar—I went down and found the two prisoners in the cellar—the cellar-flap had been secured the night before with two bolts, one on each side.
Munton. Q. Was there a bolt on the front of the flap? A. No; on the side, not outside, but inside—the blacksmith had been at work that night putting on a chain—the bolts on the flap are not old and rusty—if the front of the flap is lifted, the bolts will work in the sockets at each side.
COURT. Q. Is this a cellar that communicates with your dwelling-house—can you get into the cellar from the dwelling-house? A. Yes; you have to come up the stairs—the flap is level with the street—it fastens with two bolts, one on each side—the cellar-door, communicating with the house, was not interfered with—the bolts of the flap must have been forced—there were some marks as if they had been forced from the wood-work—the wood work was not at all interfered with.
Munton. Q. Is there a hole in front of the flap, that would admit a hand? A. No.
JAMES BARKER (Policeman, N 524). On 17th April, at half-past 1 in the morning, I was on duty in High-street, Hoxton—I tried the prosecutor's cellar-flap at that time—when I came round at 2, I observed the dust had been pulled out on each side—I listened for some minutes and heard the two prisoners in the bottom of the cellar—I obtained assistance, and called the landlord up—I was admitted by the potman, and followed the landlord down into the cellar—Munton met me at the front of the door of the stair-case leading up to the dwelling-house—I went down by that communication with the house—on searching the cellar I found Litton on the
top of some butts, three butts high, lying with his face downwards, so that I could scarcely see him—I took the prisoners to the station—on searching Litton I found some matches and a knife—on Munton I found some matches—on going back to the cellar and searching, I found some matches that had been alight, also a candle by the side of them, and a pocket-knife.
Litton. Q. You say you tried the flap at half-past 1? A. Yes; I tried it with my hand—there is a hole sufficient to get your hand in where the rope comes—it is worn away—I tried it by the front.
WILLIAM ROYSTON . I am in the service of Messrs. Calvert, brewers—they serve the prosecutor's house with beer—on the afternoon of 15th April, I was down in that cellar—I removed the two bolts which fasten the flap down—I let down the barrels and afterwards fastened the flap the same as I found it—I am quite sure of that.
Munton's Defence. We are unprepared with legal advice to assist us, and I hope you will pay attention to what the witnesses, have said. The prosecutor states there is no hole in front of the flap; the constable tells us there is a hole where he put his hand down and tried it; the bolts on the flap are at the back; there is no necessity for any breaking to raise the flap, because there is no fastening to the front; the blacksmith had been at work. You can't rely on this evidence as to breaking; then, as to his dwelling-house, it is not his dwelling-house; the flap is on the pavement in the street, ten yards from his dwelling; you have to go up a flight of stairs, and go into another house, so it has nothing to do with his house.
MUNTON— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
LITTON— GUILTY .
Litton was further charged with having been before convicted.
JAMES BUSTARD (Policeman, N 59). I produce a certificate. (Read: "Westminster, 18th October, 1858. William King, alias Joseph Dynes, convicted of stealing 2 sets of scales of Frederick Alexander.—Confined Eighteen Months.") The prisoner is the person named in that certificate—I am certain of it—I had him in custody.—LITTON—GUILTY.*— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED COY HOWSE . I am a miller and baker, residing at Three Coltlane, Bishopsgate—the prisoner carries on the same sort of trade—he is my wife's sister's husband—I had, for some two months before, joint dealings with him in business—we were together three weeks—the amount of profits were not sufficient and he left me—he did not tell me he was going to leave—on 22d April, about 8 in the evening, he came to my house—he said he had come there to obtain satisfaction from me—I asked him for what, and he said he could settle with me outside—we were then standing at the street-door—I asked him inside, and he came in—he then began to abuse me in a most shameful manner; said I had taken his trade away, and swore at me a great deal—I said it was false, and whatever he might have heard it was untrue, I did no such thing, and if he could bring any one forward, to do so—he continued to abuse me—I told him it was no use going on in that way before the children, if he had no more to say the interview was at an end—with that I got up and walked to the street-door—he followed me, and began to abuse me again outside—while he was doing so a friend went by, and I
ran to him to speak to him about selling a horse—I returned, and the wind had blown the street-door to—the prisoner was still standing at the door—I was in the act of putting up my hand to knock at the door and he said, "Take that," and put a pistol to my ear—I caught sight of it and dropped my hand from the knocker and knocked it down—I jumped from the step (there is one step at the street-door), and made a grab at the pistol—he raised it again and knocked my hat off—I was so flurried that I ran away—I made no further effort to get possession of the pistol—when he raised the pistol at me again I ran behind two men, and my daughter came out at the time—he raised the pistol in the direction of me, and I ran behind the two men and asked them to protect me as the man was trying to shoot me—in raising it he pointed in the direction I ran—he was, perhaps, as far as I am from you at the time—I saw my daughter lay hold of him, and I ran round the next street—I did not see him again till he was in custody of the police, about three or four minutes afterwards—I did not see the state of the pistol or hear anything connected with it till I got to the station.
Prisoner. Q. You say you knocked the pistol from my hand? A. I did.
Prisoner. He never touched the pistol at all; I did present it at him, but not with intent to fire it at him; I had been drinking; he had been telling parties I had absconded from my wife and children. I took him in as a partner and he cheated me out of my profits, that is why I left him.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Is there any truth in that statement, that you have done anything to injure him in his business? A. Not the slightest.
JANE HOWSE . I am the daughter of the last witness—on the evening of 22d April I was standing at the door of the house when my father and the prisoner were there—I saw the prisoner put the pistol up to my father's head, and my father knocked it down—the prisoner put it up a second time and knocked his hat off—I did not hear the prisoner say anything—when he put up the pistol the second time my father ran away, and the prisoner crossed over to his barrow (he had a barrow there)—I did not see what he did with the pistol—he took up his barrow and walked round two or three streets—I followed him till we came to a policeman and then gave him in charge.
Prisoner. You did not come out of the gate till after this was over, till your father told you to follow me. Witness. I came out at the side gate and saw you put up the pistol.
SAMUEL WHITE (Policeman, K 471). On the evening of 22d. April, the last witness gave me some information and pointed out the prisoner to me, in consequence of which I took him into custody, searched him, and found the pistol in his left hand trousers-pocket—I took him to the station and there examined the pistol—the charge was drawn in my presence—I saw that it was loaded with powder and shot, and a cap on it—there was rather a full charge of powder and about twenty shot—I found some more shot and caps on him—those caps and shot will fit the pistol—it was cocked when I gave it to the inspector at the station—he took the cap off it—it was un cocked when I found it on the prisoner—he denied doing the deed—he said he wished it had proved fatal.
Prisoner. It is false; I said no such thing. Witness. You said it in the presence of the inspector.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Are you clear in your recollection as to that? A. Yes—he did use those words—the inspector is not here.
JURY. Q. Was the prisoner drunk or sober? A. He was sober.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows: "I did present the pistol, but with no intention to hurt him."
Prisoner's Defence. I can assure you that I had been drinking, which is a thing I was not in the habit of doing. I was so aggravated, and one thing and another, I know not how the pistol came into my possession, nor yet its contents. When I came to my brother-in-law's we had a few words about taking my connexion away, which, I believe, some shopkeepers here can prove. I was never in prison before in my life; I have a wife and seven children dependent upon me.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
The prisoner PLEADED GUILTY to the second count, and an acquittal was taken on the first.
Confined Six Months.
431. JOHN COKER (21), ANN COKER (23), JAMES TUCKER (21), MARY ANN WELSH, ELLEN WELSH , and JAMES MORLEY , Robbery, with violence, on James Bessett, and stealing from him 28l. in money and an eye-glass, his property.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BESSETT . I am a French gentleman and an English merchant—I have resided in England twenty-four years—I live at East Pavilion, Sloane-street—on Monday, 15th April, I left the goods department of the Eastern Counties railway at a quarter-past 5—I took a cab and three minutes after I was in the cab I fell among these people; the cab was broken and fell down—on getting out of the cab I was immediately stopped by Morley, the one nearest to me, and immediately Mary Ann Welsh came and tried to unbutton my coat—I had the same coat on which I have now—they were all six of them after me—this was in Lower Keate-street, and about twenty minutes past 5—I struggled with them all and some who were behind me, about two or three minutes, with my hands, and crying as much as I could for help, but it appears that in that street they are all thieves, and no one came to my help—there were a great many people there—then Coker, after having unbuttoned my coat, succeeded in putting his hand in my right-hand trousers pocket, and Mary Ann Welsh put her hand in my left pocket, assisted very actively by Ellen Welsh, and they were saying, "Quick! Quick!"—when Coker put his hand into my right pocket I felt my keys, and some receipts, and all the bank notes taken from it—I had 70l. in 5l. notes—they are all in the hands of the policeman—they were in my right-hand pocket—12l. in gold, and a small bag were in my left—Mary Ann Welsh took that, assisted very actively by Ellen Welsh—the man Tucker took my gold chain, and snapped it from me—the ring went, fortunately leaving the watch in the bottom of my pocket, but at the moment I thought it was gone—I could see them very distinctly, because I was standing pushing at them—the Cokers were taken up first to the police-court, the same day—I recognised them again—I am quite sure that these are the people—I must state that during the time they were busy about me, the one in the black dress, Ann Coker, was throwing something red before my face—I do not know whether it was a handkerchief or an apron—I stopped the notes that very morning at 9 o'clock—I have not recovered the gold since, or an eye glass which I lost—I lost my hat in the struggle—they beat me on the back, and the more I struggled the more they pressed upon me, and beat me—Tucker snatched my chain—they were all struggling, but these two women did not leave me a second—they were at me exactly like dogs, and they stopped my voice with
their hands—when they had robbed me the policeman came up, and they ran away—they tried to knock me down, but I resisted.
John Coker. He stated at first that this woman (Ann Coker) took his chain, and then that Tucker took it, and at the police-court he said the woman shoved the red cloth in his mouth; now he says she only pushed it before him (The witness's deposition was put in and read; it agreed with his evidence).
Q. Which hand did I put in your pocket? A. Your right hand—the woman put something red against my face—I can't say what it was.
Mary Ann Welsh. Q. How do you know me; I was not there? A. You were without a bonnet—I know you, and I was surprised to see a young girl like you at me like a dog—you were the most active in the matter.
Ellen Welsh. Q. You said before the Magistrate I put my fingers in your mouth? A. Not in my mouth—I felt your fingers against my mouth.
Morley. Q. Did not the policeman point me out to you in the yard? A. No; I described you to the policeman—you were taken five or six days afterwards—I saw you in the prison among four or five others—I pointed you out at once.
JAMES FLOYD (Policeman, H 114). I was near Keate-street, on Monday, 15th April, about twenty minutes, or from that to half-past 5—my attention was called to a male voice crying out, "Help! police! I am robbed!"—I went to the bottom of Keate-street, lending into Lower Keate-street—I was from fifteen to twenty yards off when I first heard the cry—I saw a cab broken down in Lower Keate-street, against the corner—I then went up to see what was the matter, still hearing the voice crying not," Police! I am robbed!"—I saw the prosecutor going away from the mob, and I also saw the female Coker running away from the mob—she ran into a lodging-house, in the same street, followed by the male Coker—just before he went into the lodging-house door, I saw him pull a handful of notes or papers of some description, I could not distinguish whether they were notes or what they were, out of his right-hand pocket, he looked at them, and put them in again, and then he ran into the door—I should have been soon enough to have taken him into custody then, only there was such a mob, I could not get through the mob, and in those streets they stop a policeman as soon as they can see them after any person—I then followed the last witness—before I came up to him I saw a boy kicking his hat about the street—he is not in custody—I picked the hat up and took it to the prosecutor—I asked him if that was his hat, and he said, "Yes"—he was in a very exhausted state—his mouth was bleeding—he made a complaint to me, and he went with me to the police-station—on going there I found this piece of chain (produced) hanging round his neck, underneath his coat—I heard the charge given at the station—I went in search of the prisoners the same night, with Harvey, another police-officer—I went with him to the lodging-house where I had seen the two Cokers go, found them there, and took them into custody, to the police-station—the prosecutor saw them the same night—nothing was found on either—when I saw the Cokers in the mob of people, I did not recognise any of these other prisoners.
John Coker. About 6 o'clock, I was in a public-house drinking—the policeman and sergeant came in—I was standing at the door—he said, "Will you allow me to pass?"—I said, "Yes"—if he knew me to be the party, why not take me then? Witness. Because I wanted to get hold of the others, but I knew if I apprehended one without the others we should not be able to get the others.
Ann Coker. I passed him twice in Flower and Dean-street, about half-past 7, and he never offered to take me. Witness. That is not so; I was not on the beat at that time.
Tucker. I was in the public-house between 6 and 7 when the constable and the sergeant came in, why did he not take me then? Witness. I did not see him—I went in at one door and the sergeant at the other—the sergeant did not know him.
URIAH HARVEY (Policeman, H 174). I received a description of some of the prisoners from the prosecutor, on 16th, in consequence of which I went to No. 1, Henry-street, Whitechapel, and found Tucker and Mary Ann Welsh there—I told them I should take them in custody for being concerned, with two others in custody, in robbing Mr. Bessett of 80l. in gold and notes, in keate-street, Spitalfields—they said they knew nothing about it—before taking them out of the house, I searched the room and found some bills relating to clothes which they had been and purchased that day, on the mantel piece, put in some shells—I have produced them to-day—we found some new clothes in the room—the prisoners were taken to Leman-street station—I was present when the prosecutor saw them—two women were put with Welsh, and he picked her out directly—Tucker was placed in a room after the women were put on one side, and there were three men put with him, I believe—the prosecutor selected him directly.
Tucker. The prosecutor swore to Welsh by a black eye, and that policeman gave it her that same night—she did not go out the night the robbery was done.
Witness. On the way from Leman-street station to Spitalfields station, we met five convicted thieves, and she called out to one of them, "Nell, assist me"—she came to her—the other constable prevented her speaking to her—she commenced scratching the constable's face, and he had marks for a fortnight—I did not give her a black eye—she had a black eye in the struggle—I did not give it to her.
Mary Ann Welsh. I came home and put on a clean frock at half-past 4, and went back again to see the other prisoner go away for six weeks.
Ann Coker's Defence. How could we both put our hands in a gentleman's mouth? He said it was a red rag shoved in his mouth first, then he said a handkerchief.
Tucker's Defence. On 16th April, when I was placed between two more men at the Spital-square station, the prosecutor spoke to me by my clothes, and the policeman said, "No; go by his features," and then he said he knew me by my features.
Morley's Defence. I wish to know if it is right that I should be taken up for another thief He got me taken up to get himself off. I know nothing about it. I am taken instead of a man named Smith, who was discharged, and has turned Queen's evidence against me. I was at work in the London Docks at the time.
GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
MARY ANN WELSH
Confined Twelve Months each.
ANN COKER was further charged with having been before convicted.
THOMAS HARMS (Policeman, H 81). I produce a certificate (Read: "Middlesex, 21st May, 1860. Ann Williams, guilty on her own confession of larceny. Confined Six Months.") The prisoner Ann Coker is the person described in that certificate—I was present—I proved another conviction against her then.
ANN COKER>— GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. LONGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
The prisoners being foreigners had the evidence interpreted to them.
WILLIAM PILMAN . I am assistant to Wynn Ellis, and another, warehousemen, of St. Paul's-churchyard—on 6th May, about 12 o'clock, the prisoners came into the warehouse—the male prisoner very indistinctly, and in broken English, asked to look at some velvets at about 4s. or 6s. a yard, and said he could buy thirteen or fourteen pieces—there are from thirty to forty yards in a piece—I took them upstairs to the velvet-room—they stood at the counter—I showed them some velvets at 6s. per yard—he put one piece aside as if bought, and asked me what quantity I could sell at that price—I told him about thirty pieces—Mr. Allen, the manager, then came up and charged the female prisoner with having concealed about her a piece of silk—she muttered something—he shook her slightly and lifted her arm up, and I saw this piece of silk (produced) fall from under her dress—it is the property of Wynn Ellis, and Co., and is worth 6l. 2s. 6d.—there are twenty-eight yards—the male prisoner picked it up, and Mr. Allen took it from him—I had not sold it or shown it to the prisoners—I did not know that they had taken it from the counter—I know it by the pattern.
Charlotte Wolf. The silk was lying on the ground.
ARTHUR HALL . I am assistant to the prosecutors—about 12, on last Monday morning; I saw the prisoners go into the velvet-room with Mr. Pilman—I kept my eye on them—I began pulling some goods about so that they should not suspect me—I saw one of the men hand a piece of silk to the male prisoner, who handed it to the female prisoner—she took it to another counter, and took another piece up which she held up as a cover—the piece of silk which she took from the other counter was the piece which she took—Pitman was at that time showing the male prisoner another piece of silk—I saw the female prisoner slip the silk under her arm, and I ran and told Mr. Allen, who came up, I was not near enough to see what he did; but when I came back I saw the piece of silk on the floor, though I did not see it fell—I went for a policeman; he came, and Mr. Allen said, "Take this woman in custody"—this is the piece of silk.
COURT to WILLIAM PILMAN. Q. Was it silk or velvet? A. I was showing velvet, but after that he was looking at silks, and he handed a piece of silk to the woman—the piece I was then showing him was silk and not velvet.
Barnard Wolf. There was a pile of silk on the ground.
JOHN ALLEN . I am manager to the prosecutors—last Monday morning, at 12 o'clock, Mr. Hall sent for me to the velvet-room, and told me, in the prisoners' presence, that the woman had taken a piece of silk—I said, "Fetch a policeman"—I took hold of the woman by the shoulders, and said, "Have the kindness to step round this way"—she stepped back, and a piece of silk fell from her clothes—I took it up—it was quite warm—this is it—I sent them both to the station.
Barnard Wolf. Q. Did you take the silk from her? A. I picked it up from the ground—there were three or four pieces of silk close by on the counter, but this was lying on the floor in the centre of the passage, in which there was no silk, and I saw it come from under her petticoats—there were no silks fell down.
WILLIAM WILKINB (City—policeman, 313). Last Monday morning, soon after 12 o'clock, I took the prisoners and told them the charge—the male prisoner muttered something in broken English which I could not understand—I searched him, and found a shilling in silver, 6 1/2 d. in copper, a knife, and a tailor's measure—they made a statement to me—they said something to the Magistrate, in my hearing.
ELIZABETH HARRISON . I search females at the Fleet—street station—I searched the female prisoner last Monday morning, soon after 12 o'clock, and found on her 4s. 6d., a knife, and a snuff—box—I examined her clothes—her pockets were very small indeed at the side, but the whole of her clothing, except her chemise, was open in front, so that she might put anything in—it is not customary for any one to have the whole of their clothes open in front—I have never seen that style before.
Barnard Wolfs Defence. I am not guilty. I have done nothing.
Charlotte Wolfs Defence. I have done nothing, and should like to get to my own country again. I am seventy odd years of age, and have never been in any trouble. There are people who know me, but the notice is so short they are not here. My clothes are always open in front.
JURY to JOHN ALLEN. Q. Do you sell by retail at all? A. No; we only sell entire pieces—pieces vary from thirty to thirty—six yards, and are worth 10l. or 15l. each.
GUILTY .— Confined Three Months each.
MESSRS. KEMP and PATER conducted the Prosecution.
IGNATIUS POLAKI . I am superintendent of the office of Mr. Field, the detective, and live at 20, Devereux—court, Temple—I have known the prisoner his about eighteen months—the signature to this letter (produced) looks like writing, but it is "Ryle and Co.," and not "Segers and Co.," that I am accustomed to see—I swore before under the impression that I had, but I will not now swear positively, that it is the prisoner's writing—I have seen so many persons writing that I would not swear to any one's.
COURT. Q. Have you corresponded with him? A. Yes—I saw him write on one occasion—I have received five or six letters from him, and have acquired a knowledge of his writing—I am able to form a judgment whether writing is his or not, when I look at it—the name signed to this letter may be his, but I will not swear it—it seems to be all in one writing; the signature and all—I believe it to be the prisoner's writing, but I should not, like to swear to it positively—I have received letters from him very much like this; so like this that I believe this to be his writing.
MR. KEMP. Now look at this other letter. A. I can form no opinion of the writing by the signature, but I can form an opinion by the body of the letter in extensor—here are only three lines of writings and I should not like to swear to them—my belief can only be formed on experience, and three lines might be forged—it looks much like the prisoner's writing—it might be his and it might not.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Have you had sufficient opportunity
of seeing the prisoner write to enable you to say with any degree of certainty whether any of the letters are his? A. The only time I ever saw him write was his signature, "Edward Seagers"—I believe the first letter to be his writing, because, if I look at each letter independently, there is a great similarity—the prisoner carried on business as a general merchant in St. Mary Axe some time ago.
MR. PATER. Q. Did you know him when he carried on business at St. Mary Axe? A. Yes; because I had a civil suit against him, under the name of Seagers and Co.—we had no business transactions with him, except what our clients instructed us—we have had written communications with him subsequently—none of the letters were addressed to me, bat I have received many communications from him—according to my belief, this letter is in his writing, but I should not like to swear to it.
MR. KEMP. Q. Looking at the second document, do you not believe that it is in the same writing as the first? A. Yes.
COURT. Q. Are you the same Ignatius Polaki that was examined before the Magistrate? A. Yes; this is my signature (Looking at his deposition)—the answer that I there made referred to the second letter—I now believe that the second letter is in the handwriting of the prisoner.
PIERRE TORRT (Through an interpreter). I am a merchant, carrying on business at Nice—I received a letter, dated 28th January, at the latter end of January—this (produced) is a translation of it—I had written to the person who wrote that letter—(This letter contained the following: "We regret to find that your price is too high; nevertheless, to prove that we are ready to enter into business with your house, we accept the following prices"—a list of prices then followed—"at the above prices, with discount at 10 per cent, you may make us the consignment by the Messagerie Imperial")—in consequence of that letter, I made up a package of goods, and forwarded them to London—I also sent this invoice (produced)—the case I sent was marked "P. T. 72"—these hats (produced) formed part of the goods I sent in that packet—the numbers on the hats correspond with the numbers on this invoice, but some are missing now from the case—I have never been paid—I drew for the goods, and I received the bill back protested—this (produced) is it—this was my first transaction with Ryle and Co.—if I had known that Ryle and Co. had been in custody, I would not have sent the goods—one of these letters (produced) is in my writing, and the other is in my clerk's, but signed by me.
Cross-examined. Q. Is one of those letters the one which encloses an invoice from you? A. Yes; the bill was not sent with the letter—it was sent next day, not in a letter; I passed it through the bankers—the value of these hats is 116l. 10s.—I am not aware that the selling price of them in this country is 29l.—it is impossible—even at the factory, to us, they cost far more—I had not known the prisoner before that letter.
MR. KEMP. Q. Did you ever send any goods to this country before? A. Never; there is a general demand for these goods sometimes—I think I had heard once before of the firm of Ryle and Co.—when the goods were sent I knew nothing of the firm, except what appeared in the corner of their letters—I sent the goods in the belief that they were respectable people.
HENRY SETEER . I am a lace-manufacturer and commission-agent, at Bread-street, Cheapside—I do business with Mr. Leopard—I did not receive from him in February three samples of straw hats—I went with him to White cross-street, and saw the prisoner, who said he had a lot of goods to sell, in order to get out of prison—I asked him what those goods were—he
said they were straw-hats—I told him that I was no judge of the goods, but that I would endeavour to Bell them for him—he then gave this order (produced) for the delivery of the goods, either to Mr. Leopard or myself—I gave it to my porter—(Read:"Please deliver to bearer, on payment of the costs, 1l. 4s., a case of straw-hats: yours truly, CHARLES RYLE AND CO.")—my porter fetched the goods away, and paid the 1l. 4s.—the prisoner said that he was one of the firm of Charles Ryle and Co.—I saw the original invoice, which was produced, in the hands of Mr. Leopard—this (produced) is not it—this (produced) is the receipt given me by the prisoner for 23l. 4s. In the name of Charles Ryle and Co. for these bonnets which I bought of him—I cannot say whether this first letter is in the prisoner's writing, although I saw him write the receipt—it is written in very different ink, and rather different writing—one ink is dark and the other light—I have no belief about it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you buy these hats at the fair price which such things are worth in England? A. I tried all the respectable houses in the trade, and only obtained offers from three houses—Mr. Good year, one of the first houses in the trade, gave 9l. more than the highest of the other offers—I was paid 25l. 17s.—I got three guineas profit—they are very unsaleable articles.
MR. KEMP. Q. You are no judge of their value? A. No; but I could soon ascertain—the sale of them would be extremely limited, and they would be only to be purchased by first-class houses—I sold them for what I could get, and I afterwards communicated the price to the prisoner.
JOHN NYE . I have lived at 12, St. Andrew street, Old Kent-road, for five or six years—I know of no firm there carrying on business under the name of Charles Ryle and Co.—I do not know the existence of such a firm—I do not know the prisoner—he never lodged at my house—I have a lodger named Elizabeth Smith—she is here.
Cross-examined. Q. Is there a person named Mrs. Gilbert lodging with you? A. Elizabeth Smith came to my house as Mrs. Gilbert—she received letters, addressed to my house in the name of Ryle and Co.—I have paid for one or two unpaid letters, and given them to her, and she paid me again—I have seen packages brought there, but have not paid for them—I did not pay 18s. on one occasion—I lent her 18s. and I believe she wanted it to pay for a case which came for Ryle and Co.—mine is a private house.
COURT to HENRY STEER. Q. Were you introduced to the prisoner by the name of Ryle or by the name of Segers? A. I did not know his name at all—I was introduced by Mr. Leopard.
ELIZABETH SMITH . I live at 12, St. Andrew's-road, Newington—I pass by the name of Gilbert, by that gentleman's sanction—I have known the prisoner about six months—I have seen him in White cross-street—I became acquainted with him by going there to see Mr. Gilbert—he never asked me to do anything for him, but he asked Mr. Gilbert whether he would let me receive the letters, and I did so—letters and parcels came there in the name of Ryle and Co.—when I received them I took them to White cross-street and gave them to Mr. Gilbert, and I believe he gave them to the prisoner—I do not know that the prisoner received them—the prisoner was afterwards removed to the Queen's Bench, and I have given him letters there which I had received in the name of Ryle and Co. but no parcels—I remember being sent to Horn and Co. for parcels by the prisoner—I was ordered to take all letters and parcels for him.
—I do not know a firm of the name of Charles Ryle and Co.—I have seen the prisoner once in White cross-street—I went there because he wrote me a letter—that was the first communication I had with him—I have not got that letter with me—I went to the prison and saw him—he said that he had a lot of straw hats, which he wanted to sell, to pay the debt, and get out of prison—this was in March—I did not purchase them—they were of no use to me—Mr. Steer and I went there together—I did not sec the prisoner give Mr. Steer any document—he had some paper all ready, I think, but I had no opportunity of seeing it.
JOHN MARK BULL . I am a detective officer—I was examined at the police-court on another case which this results from—in consequence of information, I went to the premises of Messrs. Horn, of Moorgate-street—I afterwards went to the Queen's Bench Prison, and saw the prisoner on 27th of March—Baker, another detective officer, went with me—I told him we were two police-officers, and were about to ask him some questions; that he need not answer them unless he thought proper; that we had a female in custody, named Elizabeth Smith, and that he would be brought up by habeas to answer a criminal charge—I asked him if he knew Smith—he said "Yes"—I asked him if he had sent her to Horn's, in Moorgate-street, that day—he first said, "No? and afterwards, "Yes"—I told him he would be charged with her for obtaining a quantity of Leghorn hats from Messrs. Guise, of Paris, and Mr. Pierre Tony, of Nice—he said, "I know I have done wrong; if I could only see the solicitor for the prosecution. I should like to arrange matters"—I asked him if he had any objection for us to take possession of his papers—he said, "No;" and we took them—Baker found this letter (produced) in my presence—it appears to be an invoice—it is in French—Elizabeth Smith is the person who passes as Mrs. Gilbert—these are all the papers I found—they relate to different business transactions, but most of them are in foreign languages, and to different foreign firms on the Continent—I have made inquiries, and found that he carried on business in Lime-street, and in St. Mary Axe, as Edward Segers.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you ever made the statement which you have now made, before? A. No; I told it to the attorney—I did not give it in writing—I told Mr. Lewis, the attorney for the prisoner, that I had got some papers if he wished to see them—Mr. Bramwell is the attorney for the prosecution.
BENJAMIN CONSTABLE . I am chief warder at White cross-street—I know the prisoner as a prisoner there—he came into custody on 8th August, 1860, and was removed to the Queen's Bench Prison on 2d March, 1861—he was in custody on 28th January.
Cross-examined. Q. You gave 29l.; is that a fair price? A. Well; they were tried all round the trade, by open tender, and I was the highest bidder, and I considered that was the value for them, and was declared the purchaser—they are called capotes in the trade—they are unmade bonnets—they are taken to pieces and made into any shape that ladies like to wear—they are not suitable for the London market.
MR. METCALFE contended that to constitute forgery the offence must be committed entirely within the jurisdiction of the Court.
THE COURT considered that it had been field not to be so, for in the case of anything being put into the post-office it was held to be uttered as soon as posted.
GUILTY .—The Jury considered that Mr. Pierre Torry was very much to blame for sending the goods without any reference.
Confined Eighteen Months.
There were two other indictments against the prisoner.
NEW COURT—Wednesday, January 8th, 1861.
PRESENT—Mr. Baron CHANNELL; Sir FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart. Ald.; and Mr. Ald. MECHI.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
436. JOHN DELOBE (a black), (29), was indicted for a rape upon Sarah Ann Oliver, and CHARLOTTE SULIVAN (22) , for feloniously aiding and assisting him to commit the said rape; also, for unlawfully assaulting and beating Samuel Titus Hooper; to both which they
PLEADED GUILTY .— Fifteen Years' each Penal Servitude.
437. PETER PECK (55) , Unlawfully causing and procuring, to be Publicly exposed for sale in a public market, 500 lbs. weight of beef unfit for human food. Other Counts, varying the manner of stating the charge.
MR. ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES FISHER . I am employed by the Corporation of London, and by the Commissioners of Sewers, as one of the inspectors of meat in Newgate-market—I have been so twelve years—I have had considerable experience in regard to food that is brought to London in the shape of meat—on 16th February last, my attention was called to four quarters of beef which were at the shop of Messrs. Larner and Greatrex, meat salesmen, at Tylor's market—the meat was in a hamper—Mr. Greatrex had sent for me—the hamper was shut when I first saw it—they opened it to show me the meat—it had been opened before—it was not fastened in any way when I saw it—they keep a shop—it was open for the public to go in or out—in the hamper were four quarters of beef, the carcase of a cow, which were totally unfit for human food—I was there about half-past 6 o'clock in the morning, I think—business generally commences in the market about 5 o'clock—these quarters of beef were in a very bad state; what we call wet, which was, I apprehend, from disease—the fat was turned into actual serum—finding them in that state, I seized them and condemned them—part of the fat had dissolved, and by the liquid so produced the meat had become wet—that is the effect of disease—the meat was wetter than good meat would be—the whole of what ought to be fat was turned into serum—each quarter of this was dressed for the market in the usual way that good meat would have been dressed, and was packed in the hamper with cloths, in the usual way—I know the difference between tainted meat and meat bad from disease—this was not tainted—I should call this meat unusually bad—
it would present some such an appearance the day before, as it presented when I saw it—it would look worse next day from having been packed; it would not look so well as it did the day before, but the general appearance of it would not be altered as to the wet and the serum—it would decidedly, in my opinion, have been in such a state the day before, that a person in the trade, a butcher, would know that it would be unfit for human food—any one with ordinary judgment, on merely looking at it, would know that it was unfit for human food; I mean a butcher, of course; one does not know that people would be sufficient judges if they were not acquainted with the business—the weather was cold at this time; it was in February—I called the attention of Mr. Newman and Dr. Lethe by to it—the hamper had no label on it—I was present and was examined at the trial of a man named Thomas Spencer at the last sitting of this Court, before Mr. Justice Williams, on Friday, 12th April—Mr. Newman and Dr. Lethe by were examined—I also heard the prisoner, Peck, examined on' behalf of Spencer.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Have you ever been a butcher?A. I have—packing the meat after it has been washed and dressed would make a great alteration with meat of this kind—if meat is packed hot it would make an alteration in the appearance of it.
COURT. Q. But would it produce the appearances you have described? A. Certainly not.
MR. COOPER Q. Would it make those appearances worse? A. It would make them worse if it was packed hot—if it was wet when packed it would not be dry next day—if sound meat were packed hot it would not deteriorate the quality of that meat; it would not look so well; and it would be the same with respect to cow beef—supposing it to come up by railway with a number of other hampers placed upon it, the great heat would alter its appearance—it would depend on the weather, whether a carcase coming 100 miles, packed perfectly fresh, would be more than tainted before its arrival; in cold weather it would not, in hot weather it would—I have seen carcases arrive in a putrid state—supposing meat was washed warm, and then packed up before it was cold, it would alter the appearance, and might cause it to be tainted—I heard that it was slaughtered, not by Peck, but by a regular butcher, who stated that he ate the heart of it—supposing a butcher had killed it, a man coming in casually and seeing it hanging up, would be able to see at once what state the meat was in, after it had been washed by the butcher, merely by taking a bird's-eye view of it; he would see the quality of it; that it was unfit for market—it was about fourteen years ago that I was a butcher; I was brought up in the trade—when I saw this meat it was in the hamper—I do not know whether it had been out of the hamper—it was outside the shop by itself—there was nothing on it—it had not been exposed for sale, I believe—Greatrex and Larner are very respectable men; known to be first-rate meat salesmen—they do not buy meat at all—I know that there are persons who buy inferior meat and make it up into sausages—if there were not such customers they would not get rid of the bad meat—I. dare say a good deal is sold in London to persons who turn it into such things; I do not know, it of my own knowledge, I suppose it is so—I looked in the whole of the carcase for the fat—I looked where the fat is to be found; inside the loin, not inside the long ribs, we do not find fat there—I did not find any fat at all—I found the serum where the fat usually is—in a cow, it is in the inside of the loins or the kidneys—there was very little fat; if it had been fat it would not have been much—as there was not much fat, there was not a great deal of water.
COURT. Q. Did you find any liquid matter, or was it such an appearance of the meat as you supposed was the result of the diffusion of serum? A. It was more of a jelly than a liquid; between a jelly and a liquid, a semi-liquid—what I suppose had been fat was turned, in my judgment, into some liquid, that I call serum.
MR. COOPER. Q. Was there a thimbleful altogether? A. Yes, I think I might have got a good many thimblefuls—I am positive it was not the mere remainder of the washing of the cow.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. What quantity was there I A. I cannot state the quantity, but considerably more than one thimbleful or 100—it is my duty to check the sale of bad meat, and I do so wherever I find it—meat that gets warm in packing presents a very different appearance from that which I have described here; in that case the fat would be soft instead of hard, but there would be no liquidity—the meat did not present any appearance of taint or putridity—the whole of the flesh presented the appearance of disease—an experienced person, at all events a butcher, would see at a glance that it was diseased meat.
COURT. Q. What appearance does unsound, or comparatively unsound meat present? A. It does not look so bright—the colour would not be altered materially without it was packed very hot, and that they would never do—I can hardly say how it would look if it was packed very hot—such a thing is hardly ever done with good meat—if it got overheated from warm weather, it would become green and tainted—I saw nothing of that sort here—there was nothing at all of taint—if meat becomes tainted or putrid it has a smell—there was none here—the fleshy part of the meat was wet as well as the other—if there is disease that wetness would go on increasing the longer it. is kept—it must have been coming on for some considerable time; I can't form an idea how long; far beyond twenty-four hours—I should think the wetness would exist in the animal when living—in animals of that kind the carcase never gets stiff—the fat never gets set—the wetness is a consequence of disease, I should think, while the animal was living—the wetness, which is indicative of disease, would exist in the animal when alive, if it was diseased—I went to the shop of Messrs. Larner and Greatrex because I was sent for by Mr. Greatrex—they have been salesmen in the market for twenty years.
JAMES NEWMAN . I am also one of the inspectors of meat appointed by the Commissioners of Sewers—on 16th February, about half-past 8 in the morning, I went to the shop of Larner and Greatrex, in Newgate-market—it is called Tylor' market—it belongs to Mr. Tylor, the brass-founder—my attention was called to a hamper of meat by my brother inspector, Mr. Fisher—there were four quarters of cow-beef in the hamper—I examined it—it was wet, diseased, and totally unfit for human food—it was a wetness from disease; not from rain or anything of that sort—it was wet all through—the word wet has a meaning in the trade—a wet one means a diseased one—when I speak of wet, I mean it was diseased all through the meat—I think that any ordinary person in the habit of seeing meat, much more a butcher, would know that it was diseased; a butcher decidedly would—I did not pull the meat out; it was in such a bad state—there was a cloth over it, and a cloth underneath at the bottom—I lifted up the cloth—supposing the cow had been killed the day before I saw it, I think the marks of disease would exist at the time the animal was killed—I have been an inspector about five years—I had been a butcher before that—the animal had been diseased for a long time, I should think, according to the
appearance of it—it was very bad as meat—it was not fit for human food at all—it was decidedly unwholesome.
Cross-examined. Q. How long ago is it since you were a butcher? A. About eleven years—I do not know what the man who sent this meat to the butcher would know about it, but the butcher who killed it would know that it was diseased, no doubt—the butcher who slaughtered it and washed it ought to know much more about it than the man who sent it to him—a person casually observing it, not taking much notice of it, would be decidedly less likely to see its diseased state than the butcher who slaughtered it.
COURT. Q. Supposing there were the insidious seeds of disease, not apparent or developed before death, and it was packed up hastily and sent off, might the appearances become aggravated by heat, and more speedily apparent? A. In a small measure it would become more apparent, but decidedly not so bad as this.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. Would a butcher seeing this casually detect at a glance that it was unfit for food? A. If a butcher used to his trade saw it he would decidedly—a butcher passing it, without anything else, and seeing the carcase, would see that it was in a state of disease—the whole of the carcase had degenerated, and the fat had become a mass of water.
COURT. Q. Could that process of degeneration have gone on in twenty-four hours? A. I think not.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. In your judgment was the appearance bad from the moment of its being killed? A. I believe it was.
DR. HENRY LETHEBY . I am medical officer to the City of London—on 16th February last some meat was brought to the Guildhall, where I was at the time, and I was asked to see it, by the inspectors, and I think by the Alderman on the bench—I inspected it—I think it was between 1 and 2 in the day—I had it cut, in order that I might see the condition of the flesh within the animal, and I found that it did not present that firm and solid appearance which good wholesome meat always does; the tissue was flabby, and filled with serum in the place of fat—the fat had degenerated into serum; that is, the whole of the meat had become infiltrated with a sort of serum—there was the absence of fat; but that might arise from many causes—the quantity of serum which had infiltrated the meat, was an undoubted evidence of disease; serum is produced by the degeneration of fat, and also by disease—I noticed particularly that there was on the surface of the lining membrane of the ribs, the pleura, the signs of inflammation—that is what is commonly called the lung-disease—that must have existed during the life-time of the animal, because it is an effusion which can only take place during life; it is a vital act—that trace of the inflammation seemed rather consi-derable—it existed nearly over the whole, if not the whole, surface of the pleura—I can hardly judge whether its unfitness for human food would be evident to an unpractised eye.
COURT. Q. Can you explain to what extent the surface of the pleura was exposed during the time the animal was dressed? A. It was impossible to dress the animal without seeing it—it would be seen by the butcher—it would be on the surface of the ribs.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. In the course of your experience you have seen a great many cases of diseased meat; was this badly diseased meat? A. Very badly diseased, I think.
COURT. Q. Do you mean unwholesome for food? A. Quite so; no doubt of it; from my experience I am sure of it—it was as it were impregnated
with the seeds of disease, and might have given disease to the person making use of it.
MR. ORRIDGE Q. Are you of opinion that these marks of disease were existing immediately after death? A. Immediately before—they would show themselves after death, but would exist before.
Cross-examined. Q. Supposing a person in the country who had never seen pneumonia, or anything of the kind, and suppose this animal had been cleaned by a butcher, and he casually saw it, would he see it at once? A. You are putting a case of a butcher never having seen a case of pneumonia; such a case is hardly possible, but, of course, the man would not know what the effusion on the surface of the chest meant—this has been very common within the last three years—it has been what we term epidemic within the last three years, but sporadic before—if an animal had the seeds of disease, and had been diseased, and the appearances after death were not very great, it would depend on two circumstances whether the carcase soon became corrupt; if the animal had been feeding very recently before death, then the matter charged with the recently absorbed fat, would, in the case of disease, quickly become corrupt; that is, in the case of inflammation—that would be putrefaction, but we must not confound that with disease—I could tell pretty well what advance the disease had made, without seeing the lungs, from the extent of the inflammation on the surface of the pleura, which is the last part to be attacked—no doubt the lungs must have been extensively diseased—the heart and the inner membrane of, the chest are both lined by the pleura—the disease attacks the lungs, and when it has pervaded the lungs then it affects the pleura, and that is the part that is in the carcase—I do not ordinarily expect the pleura to be affected until the lungs have been—the man who cleaned them and took them out would see that.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. Of course you have seen putrid and tainted meat? A. Yes; this was not at all putrid or tainted; it was very fresh.
COURT. Q. Just explain what is the character of putrid bar tainted meat; is it a discolouration or smell? A. Yes; there are two things, first, the appearance of it, it is flabby, and it becomes darker coloured—those are the two appearances, and it evolves an unpleasant door, varying from what we call taint merely, up to actual putrefaction—I infer from the appearances I saw on the pleura the existence of disease to a considerable extent, if not of long standing—if I had not seen the pleura at all, I should have said that it was a diseased animal—I could not have said what the disease was; but seeing the pleura affected, I could also say, not only it was diseased, but the character of that disease—I could tell, without the indications of the pleura, that it was diseased, as distinguished from taint—the appearances I saw must have existed some time before death, for this reason, that the tissue of the animal was degenerated; a thing that cannot happen after death; it must have arisen from disease before death—the muscular tissue of a sound animal is firm, dark coloured, well set; that is a condition of health—in disease we find the fibre of the muscles to be weak, never contracting or becoming rigid, and it is infiltrated with the serum infused into it during life; and it is therefore gelatinous and flabby, and pale coloured, which is never the character of putrefaction—that arises from disease in life—in other words these are vital appearances, not post-mortem appearances—they require some vital power to set up and go on, and when the vital power ceases they remain—I think it impossible for a butcher to have had his attention directed to it, if he had any experience whatever, without being at once satisfied that there was disease—I now speak of the
flesh of the animal, without regard to the tissue—looking at the fleshy part of the animal, there must have been such an indication of disease as a good butcher, with an opportunity of examination, would discover it—I think so decidedly; there is no doubt about it.
SAMUEL BRITTEN . I am foreman to Messrs. Lamer and Greatrex, in Tylor's-market—on the morning of 16th February I received a hamper, containing four quarters of cow beef, from the Great Northern Railway—I opened it, examined the beef, and found it in a very bad state indeed; certainly not fit for human food—I have been employed as a butcher all my life.
Cross-examined. Q. You know that your masters would not for one instant allow such meat to go into market? A. No; Messrs. Larner and Greatrex are one of the largest firms in London, and as respectable as any, and well known.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. It was you that gave notice to the inspectors? A. My master did—it depends upon ourselves whether the meat sent to us from the country is sold or not—it would certainly not be sold if it was bad.
COURT. Q. You do not sell meat that is bad? A. No—we receive meat for sale, and sell, unless we determine not to sell—if it is not good we do not sell—when we take it out of the hamper, if it is good we sell it—we receive it from our customers in the country, but we do not choose to sell it if we think it bad.
WILLIAM DURRANT . I am a porter at the Great Northern Railway—on the morning of 16th February I delivered a hamper of meat to Messrs. Lamer and Greatrex, in Tylor's-market—it had arrived by the Great Northern—that was the only hamper of meat delivered that day to Messrs. Lamer and Greatrex.
JAMES HOPPER . I am porter at the Hitch in station, on the Great Northern Railway—on the evening of 15th February a man of the name of Thomas Spencer brought a hamper of meat to me—I forwarded it to London the same night, to Messrs. Lamer and Greatrex, Tylor's-market.
JOHN SMITH . I am a porter at the Hitchin railway station—I remember Spencer bringing this hamper of meat to the station on the 15th—it was forwarded to London that night, addressed to Lamer and Greatrex, Tylor's market, in Spencer's name—I believe Mrs. Peck paid for the carriage of the hamper.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that of your own knowledge? A. I know that the lad from our station went after it.
GEORGE NELSON . I am in the employment of the Great Northern Railway, at Hitch in—I know the defendant by sight—I know his house at Warles worth—I went there on 26th February last, to get some money for the carriage of a hamper of meat—I do not know the date—it was sent to London—I was paid by a person, and gave a receipt for the money—I do not know that it was for a hamper of meat brought by Spencer to our station—Mr. Peck was not at home.
Cross-examined. Q. He keeps a public-house, does he not? A. Yes—I do not know how long he has kept it—I have not been at Hitch in long.
THOMAS SPENCER . I am a fishmonger at Hitchin—I was tried here last session for sending this diseased meat to London—I have known the prisoner fourteen or fifteen years—he keeps a public-house at Warles worth, about a mile from Hitch in—on 15th February last, I took a hamper of meat to the Hitch in station—it contained four quarters of cow-beef—it was addressed to Larner and Greatrex—I took it by the direction of Mr. Peck.
Cross-examined. Q. You knew something of this cow, did you not? A. I had seen her—she had got a broken rib, I believe, from an accident on the railway—there did not appear to be anything the matter with her before she was killed, except the broken rib—Taylor, I believe, was the man that killed and dressed her—he calls himself a butcher—I helped to dress the animal—I did not see anything the matter with her after she was slaughtered and dressed—I saw nothing the matter with her except the broken rib—it did not appear to be diseased at all—I saw nothing at all to indicate that it was unfit for human food—I was there when Peck came to look at it—he staid two or three minutes—he came in, I believe—the animal was then partly hanging up—it was not quite dressed—I am not aware that hot water had been applied to it—I saw nothing to show disease—I helped to pack it up—the butcher helped me—it was left to me to send it to market.
COURT. Q. Do you mean you were to pack it up and forward it? A. I was to pack it and send it to market—I and the butcher packed it up.
MR. COOPER. Q. I believe you often come up to London to buy fish? A. I do—I have sent up meat before, for myself, and other people as well—I don't profess to know much about meat—I saw nothing in this case to show that it was unfit meat—I believe Peck has been a publican at Warles-worth three or four yean—I am not aware that he has dealt in meat at all during that time—I cannot say whether he bought this cow because of the accident—I know Mr. Partridge—I believe he sleeps at Mr. Peck's house, when he comes up with his cattle—I believe Mr. Partridge sold him this cow because of the accident—I have heard Mr. Peck say so—he has not been a butcher all the time I have known him.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. How many times have you sent up meat for him be-fore this? A. Not at all.
COURT. Q. How long have you been accustomed to slaughtering and dressing? A. I have not been accustomed to it at all—I assisted in this because he asked me to take the skin off the head for him—I do not know whether it is usual to wash animals with hot water when they are dressed.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. Was not the animal dressed all but the head when MR. PECK came in? A. I believe so; it was hanging up by the heels—Mr. Peck instructed me to send it to London—I told him who the salesmen were in London, and he said "Send it up"—he has not paid me anything for what I did in the matter—I never asked him for it, because he has never had the money for it—he was to receive the money for it—beyond acting as his agent in sending it up. I had no further interest in it—when I was tried, Taylor, the butcher, was called as a witness for me—I have not seen him here to-day—a Mr. Gascoigne, a butcher, was also examined on my trial—I have seen him here to-day.
JAMES DROVER BARNETT . I am short-hand writer to this Court—I was present at the trial of Thomas Spencer, on 12th April, before Mr. Justice Williams—the defendant was called as a witness for Spencer on that occasion—I took a note of the evidence he gave—I have those notes here, also the printed report of the evidence—that printed report is a correct transcript of my notes in a narrative form—I have examined it and it is correct.
(The evidence given by the defendant on the trial of Spencer was here read from the Sessions Paper. See page 524.)
Recommended to mercy by the Jury, being the first offence.— Confined Two Months.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, May 8th, 1861.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. COPELAND; Sir FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart. Ald.; Mr. Ald. HALE; Mr. Ald. JAMES LAWRENCE; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE
the Defence.— NOT GUILTY .
439. EDWARD CHATER (52) , Embezzling the sums of 43l. 1s. 110l. 11s., and 79l. 5s. 10d., which he had received as clerk to Christopher North Graham, and others. Other Counts, varying the manner of stating the charge.
MESSRS. GIFFARD and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD WEST . I am a grocer carrying on business at Worcester—I have been a customer of Messrs. North, Simpson, and Graham for some years—I know the prisoner by his calling on me and showing samples for Messrs. North and Co.—I had from time to time paid him money for them, and given him orders—in October last I received this invoice (produced) dated 25th October, by post—this one (produced) for 43l. 6s. 5d., is dated 23d October—I received that also by post—the goods mentioned in that were sent to me from London by Messrs. North, Simpson, and Graham—the prisoner called on me on 19th November, after I had received that invoice, and I then paid him 43l. 1s., which was the amount of the invoice, less the discount, and he signed the receipt and gave it to me—(Invoice read: "Mr. R. West, London, 23d October, 1860, North, Simpson, Graham, and Co., per E. Chater, interest charged at the rate of 5 per cent, per annum after the expiration of two months credit, 43l. 6s. 5d., 5s. 5d. discount, 43l. 1s."—Receipt read: "London, November 19, 1860. Received of Richard West the sum of 43l. 1s., discount 5s. 5d., for North, Simpson, Graham, and Co. Edward Chater, 43l. 1s.")—I received this invoice (produced) by post from North, Simpson, and Co.—it is for 79l. 5s. 10d.—the goods were sent to me from London—it is dated 6th November—on 21st January the prisoner called on me, and I paid him 79l. 5s. 10d. for that invoice, and he then gave me a receipt, which I saw him sign.
HENRY SCAMPTON . I am a grocer at Coventry—I have known the prisoner many years—on 10th November I gave him an order for some goods on behalf of North, Simpson, and Graham—those goods were afterwards sent to me from London, and I received this invoice (produced) dated 12th November—on 24th November the prisoner called on me, and I paid him 110l. 10s., which is the amount of the invoice less 14s. 1d. for payment—the prisoner signed this receipt (produced).
ALEXANDER GRAHAM . I am one of the firm of North, Simpson, and Graham, wholesale grocers—I have two partners—this (produced) is the agreement under which the prisoner first was employed by us (Read: "Messrs. North, Simpson, and Graham. Gentlemen, I undertake to do business with you in Birmingham and other towns, for a commission of half per cent, on the amount of invoices; and if at any time I make a bad debt, I agree that the commission on this account for twelve months back,
or from the time of dealing, if for a short period, shall be deducted from my first settlement afterwards; commission to cover all expenses.—Edward Chater, 23d February, 1846")—The prisoner has continued with us up to the present year—he was supplied every week with' statements of accounts, in this form (produced).
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. How were they sent? A By post—I have seen them made out—I never delivered them myself.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. As long as the prisoner has been in your employment, has it been the course of business for persons to make out those forms, for the purpose of being sent to the prisoner? A. Yes; I had no reason whatever to out that from February, 1846, down to the time that he ceased to be in our employment, they were sent—the prisoner would have no means of knowing what customers to go to, or what sums to ask for, except by these accounts furnished to him—I did not furnish him with receipts personally, nor did I superintend their posting—this is one of the statements of account Bent to us; it is in the prisoner's writing.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Do you know that yourself? A. Yes—I know his writing, by seeing it every day—I do not know that I have ever seen him write—I saw him sign that agreement; I forgot that—I am able, from having seen him write, to say that this is his writing—I will swear to it, from having seen him write—I speak from having the correspondence; I wrote to him and he wrote to me.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. For fifteen years you have communicated with him,—and received communications from him? A. Yes—he sent up every week a list of receipts for the week, made up to the Friday, but they seldom came to us before the Monday or Tuesday—that course of business has been pursued during the fifteen years—this (produced) is the statement of receipts applicable to 19th November—there is no amount down in it, of 43l. 1s. received on 19th November, and no such name as West—it professes to be an account of sums of money received on 19th November—in this one, in which the date of 24th November, 1860, appears, there is no account of 110l. 10s., received from Mr. scampton no that day; on such name, and no such amount, and no amount of 79l. 5s. 10d. received on 21st January, 1861, from MR. WEST—he has accounted to me for those sums, by saying that he was very sorry that they had not been accounted for—that was when the matter was being investigated, and he gave me a list in which those sums were—I have the prisoner's account that he gave me at the time that I threatened to send for a policeman.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. He gave you an account of his defalcations, and you made an arrangement with him? A. No; I made no arrangement—I did not employ an attorney—I know he has lodged policies of insurance with our solicitor—no deed was prepared with a view to meet these defalcations—I know there has been an assignment made, but I have never seen it; I have been told so—I have not seen such a document produced at the police-court by our own attorney—I did not direct or authorize our attorney to have a document of that kind prepared—MR. WOODROOFFE is our attorney—I did not authorize him to accept such a document, or such a security—it was without my authority—I certainly did hear from my attorney that there was such a document—I cannot say that I said much to him—I happened to say to my partner that he had done so; and he said, "A pack of rubbish! we have lost enough by him without his policy," or something of that sort—I have told you that I know that policies of insurance
are deposited with our attorney—(MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE called for an assignment of certain policies of insurance belonging to the prisoner, which was produced by MR. GIFFARD)—Christopher North Graham, one of the trustees in that deed, is my partner—I do not know when the deed was executed—there is no date to the list of defalcations, but I think we had it before 28th March—I do not know Mr. Woodrooffe's writing—I remember the prisoner's writing; I saw that every day, but not Mr. Woodrooffe's—Mr. Woodrooffe is a very young man, and has not been our attorney many years—if anybody had asked me if we had a traveller in the midland district I should have said "Yes"—the prisoner was our agent certainly—I may have used the word" Agent "very often in my correspondence—I always called him "traveller" in common conversation—I would not swear that I have ever in any letter called him anything but agent—I have often called him agent—this letter (produced) is in my writing—(This contained the following: "Your Sheffield orders were attended to; how often have we told you that what we expect from an agent when a failure occurs," &c.)—this one (produced, dated 31st July, 1860) is also in my writing—(This contained; "And as we expect our instructions to be abided by as closely as possible, we will not be continually answerable for the blunders, or rather the inattention of our agents; we have charged P. H. commission, and leave it with you to settle with them; it will make you more careful for the future." Another letter, dated 12th March, 1856, stated; "We trust you will get the money for the enclosed dishonoured cheque, as we hold you responsible for it, having improperly reported it as a payment")—There is no doubt that we treated him as our agent residing at Birmingham—I did not send the invoices down to the customer, and then send a list of debts down to the prisoner—here is a blank form of the bills that I sent down to the prisoner to enable him to collect—I send the name and amount—I send our bill down to the customer when the goods are forwarded, and when it becomes due I send the name and amount to our agent at Birmingham—we do not pay him anything for collection; we pay commission on the orders that he takes—we send him papers to collect accounts, independent of those on which he has obtained orders—he gets no commission on that—it was not optional with him whether he should collect the others or not; he was bound under that agreement to collect what we asked him; he has always done so—he collected all our debts within his own district—that is the nature of the business—the nature of the business of a person employed by us as an agent, in the country, is to collect all our debts, and to get what orders he pleases, and on those orders to obtain a commission—I do not think the prisoner was supplied with any account-books by us—no office or clerks were found for him—we sent him samples, and expressly desired him to call for orders—he must have had a list of our customer sat the first commencement—I did not furnish him with one—I have not been present at a consultation in this matter—we have only one agent anywhere besides him, and he travels in the same towns as the prisoner—certainly there was a duty imposed by us on the prisoner of travelling out of Birmingham, by the very nature of the agreement—I swear that the towns that he was to go to were given to him; by myself, I believe, in writing; and there was a tacit agreement; if he had not gone to those towns he would very soon have been recalled—I mean to swear that there was an agreement entered into that he should go to certain particular towns—it does mot appear in writing—there was no agreement in writing except that one—sometimes we had a correspondence
whether he should go to a certain town or not—I think they were oftener left to his discretion than to our dictation—at this moment I cannot recollect any particular town that I have dictated to him to go to—I do not think I have seen him for eight years—he might not have gone to any part of England and obtained orders for us; we would not have allowed him—there was nothing in that agreement to prevent him—this (produced) is not his writing—I should think it is Mr. Salmon's writing—it is not the writing of any of our firm—Mr. Salmon was a person who destroyed himself—(Several documents were here put in by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE, and extracts from them read as follows: a letter from the prosecutors to the prisoner: "13th April, 1860. You have not yet said what part of the debt you mean to take upon yourself; you deserve to have it all:" one written by the cashier, dated 22d February, to a customer: "Sir,—We have to acknowledge the receipt of your favour of yesterday's date, which we handed to Mr. Chater, who alone is to blame in this matter" however, we leave you in Mr. Chater's hands, assuring you we shall have the amount of the invoice from him or you. A rise or fall in the market cannot alter the true principle on which business is carried on; but from to-day's market we could not sell the same sugar at less money, though we admit Mr. Chater has it to sell at 45s" Signed, "North, Simpson and Graham & Co.")—My senior partner, Mr. Gordon, insisted upon criminal proceedings, and I said, "Very well"—Mr. Woodrooffe said it was not in his province, and then we sent for Mr. Humphreys—I saw Mr. Humphreys, and a great deal was said about the capacity which the prisoner filled, till I was tired of it—the subject of discussion was whether he was a clerk or servant, or acting in the capacity of such—I had before that called him a commercial traveller, in writing, I should think, but I will not swear to that.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. The assignment professes to secure a sum of 2,000l.; is that the whole amount of the prisoner's defalcations? A. Not half—when that statement of defalcations was made, no promise was held out to the prisoner by me, or any one that I heard, that he should not be prosecuted.
Q. How soon after the prisoner was called upon, under threat of legal proceedings, to account for these sums, was it that Salmon, your cashier, committed suicide? A. The prisoner was to have been in town on the Monday morning, and that morning Mr. Salmon destroyed himself—I do not know any distinction between the words "agent" and "traveller"—there is one other person at present in our establishment employed in just the same way as the prisoner—I have repeatedly before now required the prisoner to give up his commissions for other houses, and he has obeyed my orders in that respect—he has never in my presence, or to my knowledge, denied that he was a traveller, when I called him a traveller.
GEORGE THOMAS WOODROOFFE . I am a solicitor and attorney-at-law, and am the attesting witness to the execution by the prisoner of this deed of assignment that has been put in—at the time it was executed by him I told him that I made no promise to him that he would not be prosecuted, but that, on the contrary, the probability was that he would; that my clients, Messrs. North, Simpson, and Graham, held an agreement from the Guarantee Society, one of the terms of which was that, if required, they must prosecute.
MICHAEL HAYDON (City policeman). I went down to Birmingham with a warrant—I saw the prisoner there at his own house, and took him into custody—I also took possession of some papers there—these (produced) are some of them.
A. JOHN WELLS . I am a clerk in the service of Messrs. North, Graham, and Co.—I posted the statements of account that we have heard of to the prisoner, constantly, with the names of debtors and the amounts of goods due, and so on—this is one of the blank forms—I posted a letter on 13th March, 1861, directed to Mr. E. Chater, the Swan Hotel, Birmingham—this is a copy of it—(referring to a letter book. This contained the following; "Such buyers as you call on don't know a bargain when they see it; we have desired you more than once most peremptorily to hand us, in every letter, your receipts for the day, and your reasons whereof over-due accounts in the places you have been at are not paid, but we have no list to-day").
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I submit that the evidence does not establish the relation of master and servant between the prosecutors and the prisoner, but that of an agent; although the characteristics of those two relationships sometimes trench very closely upon each other, the difference is to be maintained; there are distinct statutes applicable to servants, and distinct statutes applicable to agents; there is nothing in the case which at all abrogates or increases the terms of the original written agreement, and any duties performed by the prisoner voluntarily or beyond that agreement, cannot be taken into consideration. The question is, does that agreement constitute him a servant or a mere agent; the manner in which, and the place where, he was to perform his business, was left to his own discretion; no action could lie for a breach of that agreement upon the prisoners part; it does not make him a servant, but he stands exactly in the same position as an agent to an Insurance Company; no doubt a person might be a servant, although authorized to exercise a discretion in certain matters, but there is no case of a servant where that discretion is not subsidiary, and subject to the master's orders, which in this case the prisoner clearly was not.
MR. COMMON SERJEANT. If the discretion is not liable to be interfered with authoritatively by the employer, then that is an absolute discretion.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. I think that distinction is a sound one, and fairly arises upon this agreement. In the case of Reg. v. Tite, the Jury found the prisoner to be a commercial traveller; a person who might be in one sense a clerk or servant; in this case the prisoner acted simply as an agent, I therefore contend, first, that Hue prisoner is bound by this undertaking, and that alone; and secondly, that upon the foundation of that undertaking he is neither a clerk or servant.
MR. METCALFE (on the same side). To establish this indictment, there must be a contract of hiring and service, and that necessarily supposes that the master has a right to order what shall be done, and also how and when it shall be done, and the right to terminate the contract—that is not pretended here; the agreement amounts to a simple undertaking to do business on commission, the prisoner even having to bear a portion of the bad debts. See Reg. v. Carr, Russell, and Ryan, page 198; Reg. v. Tite, Sessions paper, Vol. 53, page 273; and Reg. v. Walker,. 8, Cox Criminal Cases, p. 1.
MR. GIFFARD. The nature of the relation between the parties must be ascertained by the duties agreed between them to be performed; if the written agreement be clear and definite, of course it must be binding, but if it is ambiguous, as this agreement is, it is the same thing as if there was no agreement at all, and you must then ascertain from the facts of the case the relation that really exists. The prisoner travels, collects money, and transmits it to his employers; if that is not a contract of service, I cannot see how inference is to be made stronger. I do not see how this case is to be distinguished from that of a commercial traveller. My friends rely upon the term agent; an agent, after all, has no definite legal meaning attached to it. The prisoner was clearly not authorized to carry on
any independent business, nor is there evidence to show that he was not under control,
MR. COMMON SERJEANT. I must be satisfied that there was some contract between the parties which invested the one with the character of a master, and imposed upon the other the obligation of a servant, and something must be shown to establish that. Explain to me what obligation was imposed upon the prisoner in the capacity of a servant.
MR. GIFPARD. He was employed to collect moneys due upon accounts, with which he had no connexion, and upon which he got no commission; that was by virtue of his general engagement. I apprehend there is sufficient evidence to show the necessity of his obeyin 'the orders of his employers; the matter really resolves itself into a question of evidence for the Jury.
MR. COMMON SERJEANT. You say that the service may be used to interpret this document, and to show that some other relation existed between the parties notwithstanding this agreement? MR. GIFFARD. Exactly.
MR. COMMON SERJEANT (having consulted MR. JUSTICE WILLES).Mr. Justice Willes thinks it should go to the Jury, for them to decide whether, upon the facts given in evidence, they think that the prisoner was acting as a clerk or servant, or in the capacity of clerk or servant to the prosecutors, or merely as their agent or representative.
NOT GUILTY .
There were other indictments against the prisoner, which were postponed till the following Session.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, May 8th, 1861.
Before Mr. Recorder.
WILLIAM HENRY SMITHSTONE . I am superintendent of births, deaths, and marriages, for the Stepney district—I produce one of the registers—it contains the entry of a marriage between Henry Cotton and Elizabeth Hoare, on 1st May, 1844—there are two attesting witnesses.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Were you present? A. No; the superintendent, my predecessor, was—he is dead—Mr. Castleton, the district registrar, was present—he is here—I only speak to that, from the certificate—it is necessary that a notice should be given to the superintendent before parties are married—they would not be married if they did not produce a certificate from the registrar.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did you receive that register-book from your predecessor? A. Yes; I have the custody of all the books.
Cross-examined. Q. Bo you see him here? A. I do not recognise him—it would not be necessary for me to have interviews with the party—I suppose I only saw him on one occasion—the ceremony lasted about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes, at Wycliffe Chapel.
authorizing the solemnization of marriages in Wycliffe Chapel, Stepney—that chapel is authorized.
ELIZABETH THOMAS . I am the wife of John Thomas, of 5, Underwoodstreet, City-road—I know the prisoner quite well—I am his niece by marriage with his first wife—the prisoner and my aunt lived together as man and wife—I have seen letters which his daughter has received from him, and have read them—I never saw the prisoner write.
CAROLINE ELIZABETH COTTON . I live at 3, Park-street, Teignmouth, Devonshire, with my mother—the prisoner is my father—I have received letters from him, and answered them—I have seen him write and know his writing—this is his writing (referring to the register)—it is what he used to put at the bottom of his letters to me.
Cross-examined. Q. How long ago is it since you saw any letter that was written by him? A. I have got some letters in my pocket which I saw him write when I lived in Park-street, in 1859, or 1860—they were written to me—I saw him write my name in a book—I did not see him write his name—I have a book here in which I saw him write my name—my mother is alive—I saw my father last when he came home in 1858 to separate from mother—she was then living in Park-street—I had a brother and two sisters-in-law, I mean two others that were children of my father, but not of my present mother—they lived at Peignton—I do not know whether my father was allowing my mother a certain income per week—my mother did receive money; not every week—I do not know where the two children are now—we have had letters from them—my mother did not go away and leave them—she is not here—she is at Teignmouth—I do not know who used to pay my mother the money—she did not turn the two children out of doors and sell the clothes and furniture—no man ever came in the house while I was with her.
JULIAN PORNSFOAT . I live at 18, Chapel-street, Belgrave-square, and am a conveyancer—the prisoner came to live with me as servant in 1860—he did not keep my accounts—he used to bring little lists of disbursements sometimes, that he made for me, and I have seen him sign them—I believe this signature, "Henry Cotton," in this register, is in his writing—I have no doubt of it.
Cross-examined. Q. Where was he living then? A. In my house as servant—he left me at the beginning of May, 1860—I recommended him to a place in Scotland—I do not know of his living with Colonel Harper—I had a written recommendation with him—I was satisfied with him—T may have had the recommendation from Colonel Harper, but I do not remember the name.
HARRIET TUNBRIDGE . I live at 88, Gloucester-mews, Paddington—I have known the prisoner three years and a half—I was in the service of a lady of title when I first met him—I left to get married to him—he told me he was a widower, and that his wife had been dead ten years—I was married to him on 31st July, 1858, at St. Nicholas-church, Brighton, by license—I have lived with him, both in and out of service, since—I did not know that he was a married man.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he tell you that his wife was dead? A. That she had been dead ten years—I was not living with him before I was married to him, I am quite sure of that—I was staying with my sister—I never represented myself as his wife before we were married—I know when he was living at Colonel Harper's in Hyde-park. gardens—he left there to go to the hospital—I did not go there and say I was his wife—I took his things away from
Colonel Harper's, and kept them for him daring the. time he was in the hospital—Colonel Harper did not know me—I went there as a lover of his I did not represent myself as his wife—I went to see him at the hospital I did not represent myself there as his wife—I had about 30/. of my own earnings when he married me, some in the bank, and some I had—he would not work while that lasted, and I lived with him, and when it was gone I went into service—I was down at Brighton at my sister's when he came out of the hospital—I did not press him very much to marry me, nor did he say that he was ill—I did not threaten to drown myself if he did not marry me—he told me he had three grown-up daughters—I have got no family—he never treated me kindly—I have not sent to, him lately to say if he would consent to live with me I would not go on with this prosecution—I did not tell a policeman to tell him so, I would sooner work the skin off my fingers.
WILLIAM BRIDGENSHAW (Policeman V 180). I took the prisoner in the Fulham-road, on 18th April—I was in plain clothes—I told him I should take him into custody for bigamy—he said, "Oh, who is going to do it?"—I said, "Your last wife, that you have been lately living with"—he said, "My other wife has no claim on me at all—I have got a separation"—I said, "Do you know where she is?" he said, "I believe she is in Devonshire"—I took him to the station, and showed him the certificate of the second marriage—he did not say anything.
JOHN HOLMES (Policeman, V 20). I entered the charge against the prisoner on 19th March last—I was present in court before the Magistrate when the prisoner produced this document (produced)—it was returned to me by some one, but I don't know who, I saw afterwards in a cell adjoining the Westminster Police-court—he then "handed me this document again, saying at the same time, "I do not deny my wife being alive in Devonshire; but this is a legal separation from her "; the paper is dated, 29th April, 1859.
Harriet Tunbridge stated that she lived with the prisoner till he attempted her life in December; that he was then sent to prison, and when he came out he charged him with bigamy; that his own son gave her his mother's address, and she had been in communication with her ever since.
Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
THEOPHILUS MARIAN . I am a warehouseman in the employ of Messrs. Headland and Kearsley, woollen merchants, at 42 and 43, Gutter-, lane—on Friday, 12th April, I was at the further end of the warehouse., and I observed some one running away out of the warehouse with a piece of black cloth which had been on a pile opposite the door, which was open at the time—on seeing this I pursued him; the cloth was dropped in the street about eight or ten yards from the door—the man had on his head a round brown wide-awake—I pursued him down Goldsmith-street, across Woodstreet, down Mitre-court, down Milk-street, across Honey-lane market, and I lost sight of him in the entrance into Bow-churchyard—in a few seconds 1 saw the witness Dunlevy bring the prisoner down—the man had a brown
wide-awake on—he was the same sort of man that I saw take the cloth—I had only lost sight of him for two or three seconds when he was brought to me.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. What size is the warehouse? A. About the width of this court, and about double the length—I was standing nearly at the other end—I did not see him come in—I saw him just passing through the door with a piece of cloth on his shoulders; his back was towards mo—I did not see his face at all; it was scarcely a second from the time I saw him till he was outside the shop—I did not call out—I ran after him immediately; he evidently saw me by his dropping the cloth—I am not sure whether I called out or not—I saw that he dropped the cloth, but I cannot say exactly where—running from the shop to where he was taken did not occupy more than three or four minutes—Mr. Kearsley, a member of the firm, picked up the cloth.
JOHN DUNLEVY . On Friday, 12th April, between half-past 11 and 12, I was in Milk-street, Cheapside—I heard a cry of "Stop thief, "and saw the prisoner running from Mitre-court towards Honey-lane—I saw his face—I am sure he is the man—I saw him run from Mitre-court through Honey-lane market and through a court, leading into Cheapside, towards Bow-lane—I then lost sight of him for a few moments—I went into Mr. Cole's place, a fancy box manufacturer, and there saw the prisoner in a back room—I walked in and got hold of his collar, and said, "You are a prisoner; you have stolen a piece of cloth/' and he tried to knock me down—I got him out of the place, half-way down the street, saw a constable, and gave him in charge—the young man Marian, was down at the bottom of the stairs of Cole's place—I am. quite sure the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Were there other people running? A, Yes; a quantity of people running after him—Marian was with them at that time—the prisoner was, as near as I can guess, about five yards ahead of the others, perhaps three or four—I cannot say how many were running—I saw he wad a thief, because I heard them cry "Stop thief"—I never told this story before anywhere; I stated it to the inspector at Bow-lane—I was at the Police-office when the prisoner was brought up—I gave what I was asked to give—I was asked my name and where I lived; that was at the station—I was asked nothing at the Mansion-house—there was a great noise of people shouting out—I was standing in Milk-street, about five yards from the prisoner, talking to our foreman Mr. Hayes—I am a carman; my cart was in the street; we stand in Milk-street for jobs from the warehouses—I believe I was ahead of Marian when I pursued the prisoner—I was running and not looking who was before or who was behind; I merely ran after the prisoner—I called him a thief before he tried to knock me down.
EDWARD GALTON . I am in the employ of Mr. Cole, of 4, Bow-lane—I was in his room, and heard a cry of "Stop thief"—I ran out of the room, and on the landing I met the prisoner—he appeared very much agitated, and out of breath; he could not speak at first, and then he said he wanted a person named Williamson, or Williams, a printer—there is no such person there—after that somebody came after him. and he was secured.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you swear he did not say Wilcox? A. He did on the floor below; I did not hear him—I can swear he said Williams to me—I was not at the Police-office; this is the first time t have told this story.
Cheapside—I remember seeing our young man run out of the warehouse—I followed immediately, but seeing a piece of cloth in the middle of the street, I picked it up and took it back—this is it (produced)—the value of it is fifteen guineas—it had been on the counter before the door—it was not in paper at the time it was taken.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see your man run out? A. I did; he cried out" Hallo," and threw something he had in his hands at the time—the cloth was on the counter piled up with others—it is heavy—I have heard of persons stealing a piece of doth like this in the middle of the day—I should think the cloth in the street was about four yards from the door; I did not measure the distance.
The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted.
WILLIAM TURNER . I produce a certificate—(Read: "Central Criminal Court, Monday, October 26th, 1857; Edward Burdett convicted on his own confession of stealing 186 yards of cotton, called silesia, of John Morley and others. Sentenced to Four Years' Penal Servitude")—the prisoner is that same person.
GUILTY.**— Four Tears' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, May 9th, 1861.
PRESENT.—MR. BARON CHANNELL and SIR FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart Ald.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES FISHER . I am inspector and collector at Newgate-market—about half-past 7 on the morning of 29th March last, in consequence of some information from a Mr. Shreeve, I went to the shop of Messrs. Allen and Shreeve—Mr. Shreeve showed me some meat in a hamper, consisting, I believe, of three quarters of cow-beef and the head, tongue, and heart—one fore-quarter was missing—I could not see any signs of the animal having been killed—I saw the skull, and I could not see any indication of its being knocked down in the usual way—the meat was in a very bad state—it was dressed and quartered in the usual way that good meat is quartered, and packed as usual, as a butcher would do it—in my opinion it was the three quarters of an animal that had died—there were indications of disease in the ribs, and also from the appearance of the heart.
COURT. Q. What were the indications on the ribs? A. The usual indications in the pleura that we see on an animal with the lung complaint; and the meat altogether was in a very bad state, totally unfit for human food—what 1 saw in the pleura was indicative of inflammation in the lifetime.
Mr. GIFFARD. Q. There is some term known, I believe, among butchers to indicate meat in that condition; wetness, is it not? A. Yes; there were traces of wetness—it was not so dry as good meat would have been—it was not very wet—inflammation can only be set up in lifetime—if I am light in saying there were indications of inflammation, that goes to show that the animal was diseased in life.
COURT. Q. As to these indications on the pleura, were they visible on slaughtering the animal; is it in a part of the animal that is exposed on opening it? A. It is immediately seen on opening the animal—it do not
require any dissection of the animal beyond slaughtering; it is quite obvious—the whole condition of the meat presented an appearance of the animal being diseased, and to the eye of a butcher, or any one experienced in meat, they would say directly that it was unfit for human food.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. I believe you condemned the meat? A. I did—I called in my brother inspector, Mr. Newman, and it was destroyed in the usual way—there was "G. James, Semley," painted on the hamper—the meat was also packed in three cloths, as good meat would be—a calf was pointed out to me as having come in the same hamper—the calf was good meat.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. You said something about the meat not being very wet, but not quite so dry as good meat? A. What I mean is that I have seen diseased meat wetter than that—it was not so dry as good meat—the state of the animal must have been obvious to the butcher, who opened it—the indications must have presented themselves immediately on the killing and cutting up of the animal—that is my opinion—I know sufficient of it to swear that that would be so—I have frequently been present when an animal has been killed and cut up—I have seen a great many cut up that have had slight inflammation—supposing there to be a slight inflammation of the pleura there would be an adhesion of the lungs to the pleura, and it would also affect what we call the brisket—the fact of this animal being cut into four quarters would not prevent that adhesion being noticed—it is cut across, so that the whole of the ribs would be on the fore-quarter—it would be quite apparent to a butcher—he could not slaughter it without observing it—the inside of the beast must be taken out before it is cut into quarters—it must have necessarily presented itself to the eye of the person who killed it—I should think it is very seldom that a beast is cut up warm and sent off directly—it never is cut up warm—they always let it hang till it gets cold and stiff—I have been a butcher all my life—I was born in the business—I should think that a beast is never cut up warm and sent off at once to the London market—the time which it would be allowed to hang would depend on the season of the year—in hot weather they would send it off sooner than in cold weather—of course, there is a great difference between a bullock in first-rate condition, intended for the west-end market, and a cow in a poor state—there would be a great difference in the meat—the cow would get tainted sooner.
Q. And if it were suffering under any disease, that disease would spread itself over the carcase in a shorter time, would it not? A. Not after death—in warm weather the meat would not keep so long good as meat free from disease—Mr. Wace, the proprietor of the premises, saw it before it was destroyed—the prisoner was not communicated with before it was destroyed—it was destroyed the same day—the prisoner had no opportunity of seeing it after it was seized—I am not aware that a bullock is sometimes killed by a knock on the back of the neck—they are generally hit on the top of the skull, by a pole-axe, and that enters into the centre of the brain—that is the usual way of killing beasts in this country—other methods have been tried, but they have failed—I have seen experiments made—a cow is not frequently killed by cutting its throat, not without being previously knocked down—it is either by a stroke on the forehead, or on the top of the head—they try to get at the brain at once—that is supposed to take away sensation—sometimes a butcher might make a mistake and hit it in a wrong place.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Could you see any indication on the head of this
animal of its having been stunned in any way preparatory to being slaughtered? A. I could not—when meat is destroyed it is the usual course to give the salesman a note of condemnation, and he accounts to his principal for the meat, by sending that note of condemnation to him.
COURT. Q. If meat becomes tainted or putrid from bad packing, or from hot weather, what is the appearance it usually presents? A. Portions of it would become green, and there is a very disagreeable smell—I am quite able to distinguish between taint, or putridity and disease—they are quite distinct and separate things—I have seen some meat wetter than this was the wetness is always an indication of the animal being in a very advanced state of disease in life—the meat never becomes stiff and dry—supposing an animal is diseased in life, the appearances of disease do not vanish upon its being slaughtered—there would be the indications where inflammation had been—the pleura was not so badly affected here as I have seen it in some cases—the meat altogether was in a high state of inflammation—inflammation of the pleura generally follows disease in the lungs—the disease shows itself: in the lung first, and after it has been there some time it—is shown in the pleura by inflammation—the pleura is easily seen on slaughtering the beast, and the lungs also—the disease in the pleura is the result of the disease in the lungs.
JAMES NEWMAN . I am inspector to the Commissioners of Sewers to the City of London—I examined the meat in question, together with the last witness, on 29th March—I examined it carefully—from my experience I should think it was the meat of a cow that had been diseased, and had died diseased—I do not think it had been killed—it did not present the usual marks—if it had been killed, I have no doubt there was disease in it before death—I think it died from disease; but it was diseased during life, however it came to its death—I have heard the evidence given by Mr. Fisher—I concur in the description he has given of the state of the meat—we could not judge of it so much as if we had had the whole carcase before us—I believe the quarter that was kept away was the one where the disease was more strongly developed—I have reason to suppose, from what I saw of the three quarters, that the other quarter was not free from disease—there were signs of disease on the ribs—I think it was the right fore-quarter that we had—the lungs are sometimes situated on one side and sometimes on the other—they are between the two fore-quarters—the disease shows itself more on the fore-quarters—I have nothing to add to what Mr. fisher has said of the symptoms he saw—it was decidedly unfit for food.
COURT. Q. Do you agree with Mr. Fisher as to the distinction between taint or putridity, and disease? A. Yes; there was no taint about this—I can distinguish, by the characteristics, disease from taint or putridity.
WILLIAM SHREEVE . I am a meat salesman in Newgate-market—on the morning of 29th March I received a hamper, containing a calf and three quarters of cow-beef—it came between 6 and 7 o'clock—we generally begin business about 5 or a little before—I know the defendant—he is a butcher at Donhead—I believe that is close to the Semley station—in consequence of the state of the meat when I opened the hamper, I sent for the inspector—he came and condemned it, and gave me a note of condemnation—I sent that in a letter to the defendant—I have from time to time corresponded with him, two or three times a week—I cannot recollect whether I sent two letters—I know one was sent with the condemnation note—I afterwards received a letter from the defendant, dated 14th April—this is it—(read: "Donhead, St. Andrew, Wilts, April 14,1861; Messrs. Allen and Shreeve,
I received your letter, and am sorry to hear of it; you must do the best you can about it, and if anything else occurs about it, send me word about it again; yours, GEORGE JAMES")—I most likely sent him the condemnation note the same day, or the next, the 30th or 31st March—I have no doubt that some time elapsed between my sending the paper and receiving the letter from him—in the course of our business we distribute labels with our names on them—we send them to our consignors—the defendant was in the habit of sending up meat to us in very large quantities, two or three times a week.
Cross-examined. Q. About how many carcases might he send? A. That would depend on circumstances—during the last three days of the latter week we received from himself and sons very nearly 70 carcases of very superior veal and pork—we have received as much as that on many occasions during what we call the veal season—that generally commences about February, and ends about the latter end of May or the beginning of June—that is the west country veal season—Semley is in the west of England—the carcases come up by the South-Western Line—the veal and pork we got was of a very superior quality—some of it making nearly 8d. per lb.—he is not a sender of beef—I never knew him to send but one carcase of beef before—he chiefly kills veal and pork, not mutton, I think—I believe he consigns entirely to us—I do not think he sends, on an average, one caroase of beef in a twelvemonth—he has sent to the firm to which I belong, for eight years, but altogether he has been thirty years a consignor to the London market—during all the time I have known him and received from him, he has never sent any meat improperly; in fact, we never had to raise a question before about any of his consignments—whenever we have anything brought to us that has the stamp of poverty upon it, we always send it to the inspector, for our own protection—we are not licensed as salesmen—we keep a shop—we are not under any obligation to send for the inspector, but we do so for our own protection, it is an end of all dispute, he is supposed to possess the mind of the case—we send for him whenever there is the least doubt about a carcase—we never had the slightest doubt about any of Mr. James's meat before this—the general practice is to kill a bullock or a cow by hitting it on the star of the forehead, but I have seen scores of beasts knocked down by a blow on the back of the neck, which touches the spinal marrow, and that produces the same effect—I have seen them knocked down in all sorts of ways—they sometimes do it with a pole-axe—we sometimes have carcases of meat sent to the London market that you would not suppose a butcher had had anything to do with—I do not know how calves are killed—I am not a calf butcher—report says that they bleed them—I think it right to say that in the country the almost invariable practice is in what is called scalping a bullock, to cut a large portion of the skull off to go with the hide, because it makes the hide weigh heavier, and in that case the axe hole would be on the hide and not on the head—I did not notice whether this animal came up with the hide on it or not—I did not examine it at all—I saw it was a poor body of beef, and sent at once for the inspector—I did not inquire how it had been killed—the calf which came up in the same hamper was good, and was sold by us and accounted for to the prisoner—that was not cut up in pieces, it was in carcase.
EDMUND OSMOND . I am warehousman at the Semley railway-station on the South Western Railway, 101 miles from London—the defendant lives at Donhead, which is about three miles from the Semley station—on 28th March, last, he brought a hamper to the station containing meat—I saw the
legs of a calf protruding from the hamper—the hamper was directed to Allen and Shreeve, Newgate-market—it would leave our station at a quarter to 7 in the evening—it would get to town at half-past 1.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was read at follows: "The first thing I say is, that I killed the bullock myself, and it was not diseased; three quarters I sent to London, one quarter I kept at home, part I ate myself, and part I sold, and it gave very good satisfaction; that is all I have got to say."
CHARLES WACE . I am a meat-salesman and have been so for the last thirty years in the same market—I saw the three quarters of meat that have been described, in the hamper—it was in a very bad state indeed—I did not examine it particularly—that was the inspector's duty—he had seen it—from the condition in which I saw it, I should think it would have presented the same appearances the day before.
COURT. Q. Could you form any opinion whether it was diseased or not? A. I think it was decidedly so; no question about it—that disease would show itself the day before—there was no mark of taint about it; it was perfectly fresh.
DR. HENRY LETHEBY . I am medical officer of health to the City of London—I have had considerable experience in the examination of meat I have heard Mr. Fisher, Mr. Newman, and Mr. Wace describe the appearance of the meat in question—assuming them to be correct in the description of the meat, it would no doubt be quite unfit for food, and injurious to human health—it would either at once produce great irritation of the stomach and bowels, producing vomiting and diarrhoea, or it would become absorbed into the system and produce a low kind of fever—I have known death result from it, and have had to inquire into such cases—if there is diarrhoea and sickness the effects are got rid of, if not it is absorbed into the system and generates low fever—I am not alluding to the effects of tainted or putrid meat, but of diseased meat, even when comparatively fresh—the indications of taint or putridity are so essentially different from those of disease, that they cannot be confounded—I think it would be impossible for a person who understood it to make any mistake between the one and the other.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined Two Months.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, May 9th, 1861.
PRESENT—SIR JAMES DUKE, Bart, M.P. Ald.; and MR. RECORDER.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. GENT and LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES PERRETT . I am a bricklayer, of Gunpowder-alley—I have been a customer of the landlord of the Haunch of Venison, Bell-yard—I have known him seven or eight months—I have seen the prisoner there acting as waiter each time I have been there—on 15th April, about half-past 6 in the morning, in consequence of some remark from the landlord, Mr. Pell, I placed myself behind the second cask from the door, in the wine and spirit cellar, about three feet from the door—Mr. Pell locked the door and took the key away—the first thing I heard was the shutter being taken down, and ten minutes afterwards I heard a person coming downstairs, and heard a key
unlocking the door—there was a light outside the door which, as soon as the door was opened, threw a light into the furthest end of the cellar, and on a cask which had been pointed out to me containing gin—when the door was opened the prisoner came in—he had a measure in his hand and was drawing spirit from the cask; I distinctly heard it running into the measure—he was not there above a minute before I attempted to get to him, but directly I went towards him he went out and closed the door on me—I had an opportunity by means of the light of seeing his face, and am certain the prisoner is the person—the door locks with a catch, it does not require to be locked—I attempted to get out, and made as much noise as I possibly could till Mr. Pell unlocked the door and let me out—the gas was then burning.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. What time did you go to Mr. Pell's house? A. Half-past 6—I was in the dark about three-quarters of an hour; it was rather an unpleasant situation, and I did not care how soon it was over—there were casks in the cellar but I did not notice any fumes—I was about seven feet from the person who opened the door, and who I say is the prisoner; I was in front of him—I could not have stretched out my hand and taken him—I heard the gin running for a whole minute, but directly I made a move to get to him he made his exit, and I knocked at the cellar door.
MR. LILLEY. Q. My friend has asked you why you did not put your hand out and take him; can you conveniently reach eight feet? A. Most undoubtedly not—when I arose from my sitting position I made a noise, because I had to step over a cask, and then the prisoner went out.
HENRY PELL . I am landlord of the Haunch of Venison—the prisoner has been in my employ some weeks—on 15th April, about half-past 6, for certain reasons, I placed Perrett in the spirit-cellar—imagine this to be the beer-cellar, the spirit-cellar would be here; it is entered by a small door; about two feet before which is a gas-jet which would throw light into the spirit-cellar from one end to the other—the cellars are approached from the house by a flight of wooden stairs, and footsteps going up and down them are audible all over the house—I did not point anything out to Perrett when I placed him in the cellar; I locked the door and took the keys up into my bed-room—outside the door at the top of the stairs is a tub filled with water to wash the glasses—there is no sink—the dirty measures are kept just outside there, and there was a quart-pot on one of the shelves turned upside down—I afterwards heard a knocking, put on my trousers, came downstairs, saw the prisoner, and asked him to give me a light to go down into the cellar with—I found the gas lighted—it was not according to the rule of the establishment that the gas should be lighted at that time—the jet was in such a position that it would not be observable by a stranger before it was lighted if he did not know the premises—I unlocked the door and let Perrett out—he gave me some information, and I immediately went upstairs to the prisoner and accused him of being a thief—he denied having been down into the spirit-cellar; and I gave him in custody—the keys were usually kept inside the bar-parlour, but I had taken them up that morning—I have never seen the prisoner carrying any keys.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you light the gas that morning? A, I did not—the cellar is quite dark without the gas—I did not expect Perrett to see in the dark—he could not see without a light—he did not light the gas in the beer-cellar that I am aware of—it was not lighted when I locked him into the spirit-cellar—I will undertake to swear that it had not been burning all night—I go down the last thing every night—it was burning in the morning about twice the size of this candle.
COURT. Q. Was the cask full? A. No—I examined it afterwards, and had examined it before, but the quantity taken was so small that I cannot swear there had been one glass of gin extracted from Monday to Wednesday—I had not drawn any in the mean time—nobody had access to the cellar but me and my housekeeper.
RICHARD BELLAMY . I am barman to Mr. Pell, and sleep in the house—on the morning of 15th April, I came down at ten minutes to 7—the prisoner was the waiter—he did not sleep in the house—he came to his work about ten minutes or a quarter past 7 in the morning—he opened the front shutters first—about ten minutes after that I heard a knocking in the cellar—after getting up I had opened the shutters of the bar, and afterwards the front door—the prisoner came in while I was engaged washing glasses in the bar—from the time I came down to the time I heard this knocking, nobody had come to the premises except the prisoner; not even a customer—when I heard the knocking, the prisoner said, H There is some person knocking in the cellar"—he was then two or three yards from the cellar stair door, at the end of the bar, which leads down to the cellar—he said that he would go and fetch a policeman—he went directly, and I stood against the door while he went for one—he came back with one in two or three minutes, and as they came in Mr. Pell came downstairs, asked for a light, unlocked the cellar door, and when he had seen Perrett he gave the prisoner in custody—I once saw the prisoner with a bunch of keys in his possession.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you have a bunch of keys too? A. I believe I have—I did not go to the cellar that morning.
COURT. Q. Where were you for two or three minutes before you heard the knocking? A. In the bar—the prisoner was against the cellar door when I heard the knocking, but where he was two minutes before that I do not know—I did not see him.
GEORGE HILL (City-policeman). On 15th April, about 7 o'clock, I was on duty in Fleet-street, a short distance from Bell-yard—the prisoner, who was on the opposite side, called me, saying. "Come over, there is a man in our cellar kicking away at the door"—I went to the Haunch of Venison, and Mr. Pell and Perrett came up from the cellar—I did not hear, what Perrett said, but Mr. Pell said to the prisoner, "You have been robbing me," and gave him in custody.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner say that he had not? A. Yes.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
444. CHARLES GRANT (20) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of the guardians of St George's-in-the-East, and stealing therein 1 shirt, value 5s.; the property of William Gill; also burglariously breaking and entering the said dwelling house, and stealing a pair of trousers and a waistcoat, the property of Robert Pearson, having been before convicted; to both which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution, and MR. TINDAL ATKINSON the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. W. J. ABRAM conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM CASTLES . I am a private in the Royal Marines at Woolwich—I know the prisoner—he has been in the habit of coming to the barracks to see a companion of mine—on Tuesday, 9th April, I missed from my room two coat slings—they were two separate straps, used for the purpose of fastening the coat on to the knapsack—I had seen them safe on the Monday—the prisoner had been in the barracks on the Sunday, and also on the Tuesday—he was in my room on the Tuesday—the strap I lost was marked on the wrong side, and there were two or three bayonet marks on it, a spot of grease at the end, and a prick with a penknife—the straps are usually marked with black paint—this (produced) is not my strap—after missing my strap, in consequence of information I received, I went to a brick—field at Woolwich—I saw the prisoner there—he had my strap on him—I did not know then that it was my strap—I accused him of it—I did not examine the strap then—I told him to come home, that he was wanted—nothing else passed between us—I saw a strap taken from him—I examined that strap—I found marks upon it by which I identified it as mine; the marks I have mentioned—I identified it as the one I lost—allow me to look at this strap again (examining it) this is the strap; here are the marks—the black paint mark has been scratched out—this is marked on the wrong side, as my strap was—these are the bayonet marks—I made the holes for the tongue of my strap to go in—those marks would not be in an ordinary strap—the prisoner said he had bought the strap in Petticoat-lane.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. You said at first that it was not your strap? A. Yes—I did not particularly look it it—when I first looked at it I did not see the cut that I made with the penknife—I know it by that, and by the three bayonet marks, and the spot of grease, and my name was marked on it on the wrong side, but that has been scratched out—the strap is worth about 8d.—the prisoner is a working bricklayer—all the men in the regiment have these straps—they are not sometimes lost—I never heard of auy but mine being lost—the prisoner used to come to see a comrade of mine that slept in the next bed to me—I was not in the habit of drinking with the prisoner, only one night I had a drop with him at Greenwich—that was on the 15th—my comrade was with me then—his name is John Hoath—I have seen the prisoner come three times to see Hoath—it was on the 15th that I saw him wearing this strap, the same night that I had the drop of beer with him, he was wearing it quite publicly—I thought it was my strap then—I dared not ask him to let me look at it—I thought he might take revenge upon me and knock me down—I was with him a quarter of an hour—I never said a word to him about the strap—I went there on purpose to see whether he had it on him, and to get him home for my sergeant to take it—there is another part to the strap—that has also got bayonet marks on it—soldiers are in the habit of marking their straps in that kind of way with their bayonets—I could tell mine from any other—it
is a new one—I had only worn it twice—I have only been enlisted eleven weeks.
MR. W. J. ABRAM. Q. That is not the whole of the strap that you lost? A. No—I gave the prisoner no authority to take it out of my room.
THOMAS HARRINGTON . I am colour-sergeant in the Royal Marines—in consequence of information I received I went, on 15th April, with the prosecutor to a brick-field, and saw the prisoner at his house—I asked him if he had a belt on him—he said he had—this is the belt—he handed it to me—I do not know whose belt it is—I know it to be a military coat sling or belt such as a Marine wears—they ought to be marked with each man's name on the inside—I know that when this recruit joined the service his belt was marked on the wrong side, and it appears that this has been marked on the wrong side, and then the name erased—I know that he was served out with two coat slings, and that one of the two was marked on the wrong side—it is usually marked in black paint—I asked the prisoner where he got the belt—he said he bought it in Petticoat-lane—I handed it over to Castles, and asked if it was his, and he said yes, he was certain, it was his by the bayonet marks and the penknife mark at the end, and the spot of grease—these slings are often missing.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose they sometimes get lost, or the soldiers dispose of them for drink? A. Yes; there are cases of that description—the prosecutor said at once that he was confident it was his belt by its being marked on the wrong side, by the bayonet stabs, the mark of the penknife, and the spot of grease, and also by the way in which he had cat the end of it, which he ought not to have done according to the regulation of the service—the names of the men are put into all the belts that are served out to the men—they are marked with wooden type, which is served out to every man in the service—I happen to know that the prosecutor's belt was accidentally marked on the wrong side—I remember finding fault with him for it on parade—the other part of it has not been found—the prisoner did not say when he had bought it—he was wearing it round his waist underneath his jacket—I could not see it, his dress went over it—he handed it to me immediately.
JOHN HOATH . I am a private in the Marines at Woolwich—on 9th April I saw the prisoner in the barracks in our room—on Monday evening, the 15th, I saw him at Greenwich and had some conversation with him—he said he had picked up a small piece of belt which would do for a razor strap—he did not show it to me—he did not state where he had picked it up.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you the comrade that he used to come to See? A. Yes—he came to see me on the 7th and 9th—on the 15th I and he and the prosecutor were in a public-house at Greenwich—I don't know what induced him to mention about picking up the strap—he asked me to get him a piece for a razor strap—he said something that we call a grummatt strap would do—I asked him what that was, and he said a piece about the size of two fingers—I said I could not get him one, but I would try to get him an old knapsack sling.
MR. W. J. ABRAM. Q. Did you give him that strap? A. No.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you before the Magistrate? A. Yes—the prisoner was not asked there to plead guilty—nothing was said about it.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
447. JOHN BRIAN (32), PATRICK KILTY (9), and JOHANNA FLING (34) , Stealing two bushels of wheat, value 17s. 6d. the property of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway Company; Second Count, Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK LENNEY . I live at Cold-blow-lane, in the parish of Deptford, and am a guard in the service of the London, Brighton, and South Coast Railway—on 2d April, I attached a truck to a train that was going to Horsham—the truck was placed at the entrance to the Commercial Dock—it was near the points of the Thames Junction Railway—at the time I attached it to the train, the doors were shut, and the pins properly placed in the fastenings—the truck was sent on to Horsham by the train that evening—I did not go with it beyond New-cross—I did not see what it contained—I did not see the truck brought up to the points—I have heard since where the prisoners live—I should think the truck was placed on the line about 60 yards from the garden of the house occupied by the prisoners—it might be more than that.
JOSEPH WATSON . I live at 9, Grove-street, Deptford, and am a labourer in the employment of the Brighton Railway Company—on 2d April, from orders I received from Superintendent Capelin, I loaded twenty-one quarters of wheat in a box truck in the Commercial Docks—the sacks were all well tied, all in good condition, all new sacks, and all full—they were about two feet and a half, or three feet from the door—they could not sustain any in jury—the truck was fastened at the side with an iron pin through a staple.
GEORGE TREE . I live at Horsham, and am a porter in the service of the Brighton Railway Company on the morning of 3d April, I received a box truck at the Horsham station, which came from Deptford on opening the doors, I found one sack standing against the door about half-empty, and a hole cut in the sack—the doors were all fastened safe—about two bushels were gone out of the sack, supposing it to have been full—there was very little wheat scattered about the truck—about half a pint—I reported the loss to the station master.
JOHN CARPENTER . I am inspector of police, atttached to the Brighton Railway—on the morning of 3d April last, I received a telegraphic message from the witness Capelin; in consequence of which, I went to Deptford Wharf, where Mr. Capelin pointed out to me the place where the truck had stood—close by there, I saw that wheat had been scattered on the ground, and eight or ten yards from there, I found some more had been scattered on the ground; and also some footsteps of a man; at least a large footmark—and from there, I traced it across the yard to a garden wall, immediately at the back of where the prisoners live—that wall is about six feet high from the garden side, but it is level with the top of the company's yard—you have to get down six feet into the garden—there was some wheat scattered inside the garden, and also some footsteps there of a man—from further inquiry I was led to go to the lodging of the prisoners, which is in the top room of the house, No. 10, Grove-street, Deptford—the garden wall is at the back of a row of houses, but a little at right-angles from the prisoner's house itself; but the footsteps went in that direction—it does not belong to the house itself, but there is an opening from that house into the garden—I saw the female prisoner Fling there—I asked her what had become of the wheat that she had had—she said, "I have had no wheat; I know nothing about any wheat"—on looking round the room, in a corner I saw a clothes' basket, and on pulling some things from the top, I found this dish full of wheat in
the basket—I then said to her, "Where did you get this from?"—she said, The little boy brought it"—I said, What little boy?"—she said, "My little boy"—I then made a further search of a bed that was in the room on the floor, not a bedstead—I lifted up the bottom part of the bed, and under it found this bag of wheat (produced)—there is about a bushel as near as possible—I then removed the bedclothes; and in the bed I found this bundle of wheat, which is about another peck, tied up in an apron in the bed, covered over with the bedclothes—I asked Fling if it was her apron—she said it was—I asked her how she accounted for the wheat being there—she said the little boy had brought it in—at this time the prisoner Brian came into the room—I asked him if he lived there—he said he did—I told him that I was a police-officer, and that some wheat had been stolen from a truck on the railway last night, and that I had found it here, and asked him what account he could give of it, or wished to give of it—he said, "Last night I came home from work, and was having my tea about half-past 6, when the little boy brought it in"—I did not see the little boy on the premises at that time—I said it was impossible that a little boy could bring this in—he said, "He brought some last night, and some this morning"—I said, "It is also utterly impossible that a little boy could bring it over that wall, as the wall is over six feet high; a little boy could not get up;" if he went more than once, he would have to get up again—the woman then said that the little boy had found it honestly on the line, and had brought it home—I then left them in custody of a police-constable of the M division, and went downstairs, and in the passage adjoining the house, I found the boy—I asked him what his name was, he told me it was Kilty—I then took him upstairs to where the other two prisoners were, and showed him the wheat, and told him what the other two prisoners had said; that he had brought the wheat—he said that a man had told him to bring it home—I asked him how he brought it home, and he said, "A little at a time"—I have compared the wheat found in all these places, and also that in the sack that it was taken from, and that on the ground, and I find that all of it corresponds—there are two peculiar sorts of black seeds among it in each sample, in the bag, the dish, the original sack, that in the basket, and the apron; and I found the same on the ground, and in the original sack—no person is permitted to go on the line except those employed—there are caution boards up—it is utterly impossible that a boy of Kilty's size could get down with anything like the quantity of wheat that was there, or without help it would be next to impossible for him to get up to the truck door, it would be quite six feet high—the whole quantity of wheat here, is, I suppose, a bushel and half a peek; and that littered on the ground, would account foe the remaining portion missing from the sack—two bushels were left in the sack—the proper amount in a full sack is four bushels.
Fling. The officer told me that I had a sack.
The Witness. At the time I went to the house I had not the information from Horsham, that the sack was left in the truck—we believed that the sack had been stolen, and I did ask her what had become of the sack, and she said she had no sack.
DANIEL CAPELIN . I am superintendent on the Brighton Railway, at the Deptford wharf near Grove-street—on 2d April, I gave directions to Watson for the loading of a box-truck—I saw the truck when it was drawn out from the dock, and I saw it when it was attached to the train ready to go away—it was brought from the docks about half-past 4—it was placed at the points of the Commercial Dock, close to the junction; that might be
about a hundred yards from the backs of the houses in Grove-street, or perhaps a little more—it was attached to the train about 7 o'clock in the evening, so that it was left there for about two hours and a half—I had no reason to suspect, at 7 o'clock, that the truck had been interfered with in any way—it was not dark at that time—I was at the gates, nearly two hundred yards from the points, and I saw it attached to the truck—I cannot say whether it was in a proper condition at that time, or how it was inside—on the following morning, about 8 o'clock, I had occasion to go into the dock, and on passing the line I saw wheat littered about—some was lying close to the line and some a little way back—it was right opposite where the truck had been placed the night before—I was able to trace the wheat to the back of the premises where the prisoners lived, and over the wall—I have been in the wheat trade ever since I was ten years old—I picked up a sample of the wheat that was on the ground, and compared it with the others, and it was all one sort of wheat.
COURT. Q. Is the line level or nearly so with the adjoining ground there? A. Yes; there is no public way across from there to where I traced the wheat; it is all private ground; no one could come there without trespassing.
ROBERT STEWART (Policeman, M 263). I received charge of the prisoners on 3rd April, from Carpenter—I searched the room they occupied—I found a clasped knife there—I showed it to Brian; he said it was his—I have seen Brian several times in company with Fling, when I have been on duty.
Brian's Defence. I had been out for a day's work, and when I came home I found these policemen in possession; I know no more about it than a child unborn. I am not the boy's father; I am only a lodger in the house. The policeman never showed me the knife, or spoke to me about it.
Fling's Defence. This man went out to work at 7 o'clock in the morning; I went out to get some bread or something; I left the boy at home with two others, and as soon as I went out he cut away from the house and fetched this wheat. When I came home I asked him where he got it; he said that a man told him to take it, and that the man took some himself; I told him to take it away, I could do no good with it, and he ran away from me. I told my neighbours about it, and said I should chuck it away; but they told me to leave it there. This man saw nothing of it; the boy put it under the bed; he kept away from school, and slept out three nights because I beat him for going on the railroad. I work very hard for my living, and it is very hard for a mother to say this of her boy.
Kilty's Defence. I found the wheat on the line; the man told me to take it home. I took three aprons full; I spilt some. I went again in the evening and took it to my mother.
BRIAN— NOT GUILTY .
KILTY— GUILTY of stealing.— Judgment Respited.
FLING— GUILTY of receiving. — Confined Twelve Months.
Carpenter stated that he believed for the last twelve months the female prisoner had been in the habit of sending the boy Kilty out thieving.
Before Mr. Baron Channell.
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL COLLINS . I live at Barnes'-alley, Deptford, and am a labourer—on Tuesday night, 5th March, I went to bed about ten minutes to 9—I live with my uncle and his wife and family—they did not go to bed till after that—I was awakened between 10 and 11 o'clock, by a loud noise of kicking at the street door—my uncle opened the window—the prisoner asked for one Sullivan, or Barret—my uncle told him there was no such party there, and that if he did not leave he would give him in charge to the police—the prisoner said that if it was his fortune to come down, he would lay hold of him and knock his brains against the wall—the prisoner was breaking the door—I got out of bed, came downstairs, opened the door, and said, "Is it not a shame for you to be making such a noise at such an unreasonable hour of the night as this; would not it be better for you to be at home and in bed like a decent boy"—the words were scarcely out of my mouth when he struck me in the nose with his fist—my nose bled—I laid hold of him and knocked him through the passage—I knocked him down and fell a top of him, and then he struck me with a knife, here, in the belly—when I found the knife going in, I cried, "Uncle, uncle, take me up"—my uncle was in the passage then, and laid hold of me by the waist and pulled me in doors—the prisoner then made three attempts with the knife at my breast; he struck me with it in this way (describing it)—I put up my hand to save myself, and he cut me slightly—I got faint and weak then with loss of blood, and did not know anything till the following morning—I was sent to Guy's hospital—I went there on 6th March, and left on 19th April—the prisoner was under the influence of liquor—I had not had any quarrel with him before that—he was not drunk; I could tell that he had been drinking—I knew him by sight before, but had had no conversation with him, except twice; once last September, and once either before or after that, I do not know which—I saw him there once when my uncle was there—when I found the knife stuck in me at first, I pulled his hand away, and in coming out the knife scraped me slightly towards the hip.
COURT. Q. Did you feel the blood coming from you? A. Yes; I felt the blood coming down my thigh—I do not know much what occurred after my uncle pulled me up—the night was dark—there was no gas near the door—I did not bring a light down with me; I came down in my night shirt—it was light enough for me to distinguish who was there; I am sure it was the prisoner—I knew him by sight before—I had seen him frequently, though I had only spoken to him twice—I knew him by his person and voice.
Prisoner. Q. When I went to the house his uncle asked who was there. Witness. I did not hear any one ask that—I did n't hear the person outside give his name—my uncle did not ask me for something to hit him—I came down before my uncle.
COURT. Q. Was he still striking at the door when you went to open it? A. Yes—I am sure that the first thing done upon my opening the door was that he struck me on the nose—no blow was struck by any one till that—he was in the passage when I knocked him down—I did not strike him before that—I fell on him but did not press on him; I leant over him—I did not strike him after he was down—directly I knocked him down and was upon him, I felt the knife go into me.
Prisoner. Q. Did you lay hold of my fingers with your teeth? A. No, I did not.
MR. DICKIE. Q. Are you still suffering from the effects of the cutting you got? A. Yes—my uncle has been maintaining me since.
PATRICK CAREY . I live at 6, Barnes'-alley, Deptford, and am a labourer—the last witness is a nephew of mine—he lodges at my house—on the night of 5th March, between 10 and 11 o'clock, the prisoner came to No. 2, Telegraph-court—he was knocking at the door; I did not know who was outside or what it was about—I raised the bed-room window, put my head out, and asked him what he wanted there—he said he wanted Michael Sullivan and Barret—I told him they were not in the court at all, and to go away from the door and not to make any more noise, and that if he did not go away I would call out for a policeman and give him in charge—with that I hallooed out for the police as loud as I could ten or eleven times, and as I hallooed he hallooed out the same as me to bother me, so that the police should not hear me—he said that if he found me down he would knock my brains against the wall—I did not see any other person—Michael Collins got out of bed in his shirt, and so did I, and came down after him—the door was locked when I got down—Michael Collins was at the door first, inside; I was just behind him when he had the door open—the knocking continued all through—I saw the prisoner strike Collins as soon as he went outside and asked him to go away from the place—after he struck him Collins caught hold of him, just by the door, and knocked him down, and then Collins hallooed out, "Oh, uncle, he has a knife and he has stabbed me in the belly with it"—he had nothing on then but his shirt, nor had I—I got him in and pulled him up, and the prisoner kept hold of his linen smock which he had outside his shirt—I was outside trying to pull my nephew up again, and I caught hold of him in my arms to get him away—I turned and locked the door and put the bolt firm on it, and then went upstairs and lit a candle—I had then got my nephew in doors, and took him upstairs with me—when I saw the state he was in, the blood running about the room, I got a handkerchief and tied round him, and put him into bed; and I made two attempts to turn round to the clock to take one of the weights off, to knock the prisoner's brains out, but God Almighty put it into my heart not to do it—the prisoner was then outside the door—I did not put him out—he was outside when I got my nephew away and locked the door—he did not go away—there was a water-pail outside the street-door, and he began to knock at the door with it—it had three iron hoops on it, and an iron handle—I wanted to go down then, and Michael Collins hallooed out and said, "I have no one but myself, and you have a family," and he bade me stop in doors, and I did so—I went to the police-station before 7 o'clock in the morning—when the policeman came back with me, my missus had been picking up the staves of the water-pail, which the prisoner had broken in pieces, and she said, "Oh! here is the knife that done the injury"—I saw the policeman take it out of her hands—it was all full of blood, both the blade and the haft.
COURT. Q. Was this a dark night? A. I knew his person very well that night—it was not too dark for me to know his face—it was light enough in the passage, or at the doorway, for him to have seen that my nephew was only dressed in his shirt—I am sure of that—it would be a very dark night if I could not see a man with his shirt on.
Prisoner. When I went to your door, you raised up the window, and looked out, and asked my name. Witness. I did not ask your name—Barrett had lodged with me, but had left me—I did not say that if I were below, alongside of you, I would smash your head against the wall—I did not ask anybody for anything to throw down at you—Collins had not got you down before I came out—I was out as soon as you had struck him in the nose—on my oath I never struck you at all—I never saw you near my
house before, and if I had met you I should not have known you—I had never spoken a word to you—two persons did not say that it was a shame to use you as if you were a Turk—you hallooed out several times, and I supposed you wanted more help to murder us all in the place—you had been drinking, perhaps, but you knew what you were about very well.
JURY. Q. Did you see the prisoner and your nephew in the passage at all? A. Just outside the door—I met him just opening the door—I count it outside.
JAMES HASLEDANE (Policeman, R 218). On Wednesday morning, 6th March, Carey came to me near the police-station—I went to the house with him, and when I got there I saw a piece of a water-pail lying inside the door and this knife (produced), which was open and had blood on it—I saw the landlord pick it up—I then went upstairs and saw Collins in bed, lying on his back; I saw a stab on the bottom part of his belly—I asked him if he knew the man who had stabbed him—he said, "Yes"—I removed him to Guy's Hospital, and between 8 and 9 o'clock apprehended the prisoner, and told him he was charged with stabbing Michael Collins—he-said, "I did not stab him"—I said, "Were you there?"—he said, "Yes; and I had words with him"—I took him to the station—he had a clean shirt on—he told me he lived at 19, Old King-street, Deptford; that is about ten minutes' walk from the court—I went there and found a shirt with marks of blood on it, and a smock-frock on the bed in his room—I told the prisoner I had been to his lodging and what I found there, and he said, "What do you want with that?"
WILLIAM HOLMES (Policeman, R 28). On 5th March, about 11 o'clock, I saw the prisoner knocking at the door of the end house in Telegraph-court—that is not No. 2—I asked him what he did there—he said that some of his clothes were inside—I said that I could not have any disturbance there, and if he did not go away I must take him in custody—I told him he had better come to-morrow morning for them, and he then went away—he had on a white jacket or slop—I did not notice whether it had buttons or not—it was smeared with blood all over, and he had no handkerchief on, and no cap.
Prisoner. I told you I was going to get my cap. Witness. I do not know whether you mentioned your cap; you said that you were waiting to get your clothes.
BUCKMASTER JOSEPH TUCK . I am house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on 6th March, between 10 and 11 in the morning, Collins was brought there in a depressed condition—he had a wound on the belly about half an inch long and quarter of an inch wide—he was in a dangerous state, and remained in the hospital till 19th April—wounds of that description rarely prove fetal, but they are dangerous—he may have a rupture there, but I do not think he will—it would have been highly dangerous if inflammation had taken place, or if he had not been taken proper care of.
COURT. Q. Did you see any punctured wound? A. It was a stab, I am certain of that, because part of the contents of the belly were outside—I think what may be called the outside wound may have been caused by drawing out the knife.
Prisoner's Defence. They beat me as severely as they could; Collins beat me and had me down, and was on top of me, and his uncle hit me with the pail two or three times; people who were looking out at the window said that it was a shame to use me so. Before Carey came downstairs I was struck with something, and was got up against the door, and hurt so that I was obliged to get medicine from the doctor for it. I was told that Collins was
watching me, and would take my life whenever he caught me. I was cut on the nose and cut here.
COURT to WILLIAM HOLMES. Q. You say that about 11 o'clock you saw the prisoner, not at No. 2, but at the end house? A. Yes—he looked very wild but he did not answer me as if he was drunk; he seemed to know what he was about—we were not in conversation a minute—he did not complain of having been ill used; but he was smeared all over with blood—he did not complain of having been struck with a pail—he seemed fully to understand what I said, and went away.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Confined Twelve Month.
EMILY ANN PRICE . I am a widow, living at 3, Tranquil-vale, Blackheath—I keep a boot and shoe shop—on 15th April the prisoners came in between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon—Martin said, "I have come for a pair of boots for myself"—I got her a pair—she was not provided with money to pay for them, but the other gave me two 3d. pieces as a deposit—she said that she would send in an hour or an hour and a half, or come for them, and I never saw anything of them until they were brought to me by the policeman in the evening at half-past—he showed me a pair of boots, which I recognised as mine—I had fitted them on to Martin, but she refused to have them—the policeman then asked me if I knew the two young women—I said, "Certainly I do; they were here this afternoon"—they both denied having been in the shop, but I am sure they were.
JOHN KELIHER (Policeman, R 116). I was called into a public-house on the 15th, and requested to take White in custody for trying to obtain jean and money by fraud—that had nothing to do with this charge—my attention was called to something under her cloak—I asked her what she had got—she said, "A pair of boots," and produced these (produced)—I asked her where she got them from—she said, "I do not know"—I said, "You must know where you found them"—she said they belonged to her sister—I said, "Where did your sister get them from?"—she said that she thought she got them somewhere near the Arsenal gate, Woolwich—I took her to the station, and directly I got there Martin called to see her—I said to White, "Is this your sister?"—she said, "Yes"—I then asked her if they were her boots—she said "Yes; and I can take them where boot them from"—I said, "Where is that?"—she said, "At Black heat-bridge"—I said, "Do you know the shop, or where it is?" and she said, "Somewhere near Billing's, the watchmaker's"—I took both the prisoners to Blackheath-bridge—I went to three shops, and the third shop I enquired at was Mrs. Price's—I produced the boots, and Mrs. Price identified them as her property, and also the prisoners as having been in her shop at 4 o'clock that afternoon.
White's Defence. We picked them up as we were coming along opposite the shop j one was lying about half a yard off the other.
Martin's Defence. I told the policeman the nearest place where I picked them up.
GUILTY .— Confined Four Months.
Before Mr. Recorder.
TRAUMANN PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES SWINBURN . I am assistant to Messrs. Atkinson and Co. 69, Westminster-road—on Thursday, 4th April, Traumann came to our shop, between 2 and 3 o'clock in the afternoon—he wanted to see some carpets—I showed him some velvet-pile carpets, and he selected one length, and then he wanted a hearth-rug to match it—he selected thirty and a half yards of carpet, at 6s. 9d., a yard, a rug at 50s. and eighteen yards of tapestry-carpet—I think that was it—he afterwards selected a table-cover and cloth—the whole amounted to 26l. 19A. 5 1/2 d.—I assisted William Kingston to put the things in the cart to take away—he afterwards brought back this cheque (produced) from the customer, and gave it to the parcel clerk.
LEOPOLD TRAUMANN (the prisoner, through an interpreter). I have known Zimmermann about two years—I knew him on 4th April, 1861—he has been in an office at Bush-lane, under the name of Wilkinson and Co.—I knew his name was Zimmermann, because he told me how to do with this cheque—I don't recollect having signed a cheque at Walsingham-place, it is such a long time ago—I remember this cheque—I got it from Zimmermann—he gave it to me the same day before I received the goods—he was standing at the corner of the street, waiting for me, when I went to Messrs. Atkinson's, and when I went to hire the rooms at Walsingham-place he was walking up and down about a comer till I came back—he treated me with a glass of spirits, and told me how to write a cheque, as I did not know what the cheque was—it is signed in the name of Richard—I do not know how I came to sign that name—Zimmermann told me to write Richard—he went back with me at half-past 3 to Walsingham-place—I believe I wrote on a piece of paper something as a reference—I was obliged to do what Zimmermann told me—the cabman helped the goods into the cab at Walsingham-place—Zimmermann was there, but he stayed a little out of the way—he got into the cab about ten minutes afterwards, and we went over to a public-house at Walworth—a little man assisted to take the goods out of the cab for a couple of pence—Zimmermann was with me when the goods were being taken out—we afterwards went in another cab, which Zimmer-mann hired and I paid for it—there was a parcel of curtains put into the cab—we took it to Greek-street, Soho, after 4 o'clock, after the pawnbroker had refused to take them in—both of us went to Greek-street—I gave all the tickets to Zimmermann, and he took them to his office—he gave me some of the money—we got 4l. from Greek-street.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. How long have you been living in England? A. Eight years—I have never been charged before—I have not pleaded guilty to four indictments to-day; only this one—only in this case, nothing else—I understand what an indictment is—I remember going to Atkinson's shop, in the Westminster-road, and ordering some carpets and rugs—amongst the things I ordered there were some curtains—I have known Zimmermann since the time he sent for me to put his things in order—before that I was in the country two years, engaged by Mr. Hoffmann as a musician, and then besides that I have known my wife for five years, who is acting as a governess, and she has money enough to support me—I also had an harmonium upon which I played, and have got some profit by it—I don't know why I was obliged to do what Zimmermann told me—I had no money—I was playing as a musician in some concert-rooms, in the Alma, and some respectable gentlemen's societies and clubs—I went in to
pledge the things in Greek-street—at one time I received 6l., then I got 3l., then I got the half of 10l.
COURT. Q. What things were pledged when you got the 4l. that you speak of? A. These things which you have seen—the net proceeds were 8I.; 4l. for me, and 4l. for Zimmermann.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you go by yourself to Atkinson's shop in the Westminster-road? A. Yes—I went to four or five other shops by myself but Zimmermann was always on the alert waiting—whenever I hired lodgings I hired them by myself—I hired lodgings as often as I bought something.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Where was Zimmermann when you hired them? A. He was always out of doors—outside—I hired the lodgings both in the names of Traumann and Richards.
WILLIAM KINGSTON . I am a porter in the employment of Messrs. Atkinson's, in the Westminster-road—on 4th April I took a bale of goods to 7, Walsingham-place—I there saw Traumann—he gave me this cheque (produced)—I believe this to be the same—I left the goods there, and took the cheque home, and handed it to the parcel clerk (This was dated 4th April, 1861. Drawn by C. H. Richard, on Messrs. Adam Spielmann and Co., for 26l. 19s., payable to Messrs. Atkinson, or bearer).
CATHERINE BARBER I am the wife of Samuel Barber, of 7, Walsingham-place, Lambeth—I had a room to let there on 4th April—about half-past 1 the prisoner Traumann came there about a lodging—I required a reference, he went away, came back about half-past 3 in the afternoon, and gave me a piece of paper which I afterwards gave to my husband—Messrs. Atkinson's porter came within twenty minutes after that with a bale of goods, and immediately after the goods were delivered a cab came up to the door—Traumann had no personal luggage with him whatever—I had not been after the reference; he had not given me time—the bale was so heavy that the cabman could not lift it by himself, and fetched another man in to help him, and they immediately left—Traumann never came back again.
MARY ANN COPSEY . I am sister-in-law to the last witness—I was passing her house on 4th April, about 1 or half-past, and saw two fair foreigners standing outside the house—Zimmermann was one—the other is not here—at the same time I saw Traumann leaving the house—the two were in conversation till they turned and saw him coming, and then separated—he came between them, and they walked down the Westminster-road together—I was coming in the opposite direction.
Cross-examined. Q. Where was this? A. On the Kennington-road, about five doors from 7, Walsingham-place—I was coming from the Westminster-road—that is not far off—it is a long way from Kennington-park—it is near Bethlehem Hospital; at the corner—I had never seen either of the persons before, to my knowledge—I observed them standing in conversation, but not to notice them particularly—I can't say how far they were from the Orphan Asylum; perhaps as far as from this Court to Ludgate-hill—it was between the turning that leads up to the Homan Catholic Church and the Orphan Asylum.
COURT. Q. Was your attention attracted by seeing Traumann coming out of your brother-in-law's house? A. Yes.
find any such place as Bedford-place there—I found Bedford-Street, and I went to Bedford-row, and every place I could find.
CHARLES ATTERTON . I am a cabman, of 39, Ponsford-place, Vauxhall-bridge—on 4th April, I was called to Walsingham-place, and took up a bale of goods—Traumann called me, got into the cab, and ordered me to drive to Walworth-place—as I was going along he rattled at the front window, and his friend Zimmermann got in—I took them to Manor-place; they got out, and a man carried the goods in at the private door of a public-house—I left the prisoners with the goods.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you took up Zimmermann, was that not in consequence of the other gentleman calling out to him; did not you hear the one you had in the cab call out to the other? A. No—he rapped at the window for me to pull up on the right side, and I did so—he did not use his tongue.
CHARLES THOMAS KEMPSTER . I live at Barnes'-buildings, Wyndham-road, and drive a cab, No. 2736—on 4th April, I was hired in Manor-place, by the tall prisoner Zimmermann—he took me to Russell's, the pawnbroker's, in the Walworth-road, where we met the other one, Traumann—I there took a roll of carpet, and some other things in a wrapper, into the cab, and drove to Mr. Attenborough's, in Greek-street, Soho—Zimmermann got out at the corner of Greek-street, and I went on with the other one to the pawnbroker's, and he went in there—I put both the packages down in the passage; the carpet and the other, and he soon after brought the package and the wrapper out, and I brought that away—we met Zimmermann when we went back at the corner of Greek-street, where I had set him down—he got into the cab to Traumann, and we went on to London-bridge.
Cross-examined. Q. I think you said this was on 28th March. A. "No; I believe it was 4th April—that was on a Thursday, and on the Friday the inspector called on me—I recollect being examined before the police-magistrate—I do not remember the date, I did not put it down—I put the other date down in my pocket-book—I believe I have it here—it was Inspector Hubbard who spoke to me—I put the date down after that—I have it here in my pocket-book (reading) "Thursday, 4th April"—Friday the inspector called—Sunday again, and Monday, 8th, attended at the Lambeth police-court, and then on Friday again—I did not put down that date, because the inspector mentioned it to me—I recollected the date quite independent of what he said to me.
MR. LEWIS. Q. I suppose you can recollect what happened yesterday very well? A. Yes.
JAMES LENSCOTT . I am assistant to Messrs. Russell, pawnbrokers, in the Walworth-road—on 4th April the prisoner, Traumann, brought a bale of goods to our establishment—I refused to take them in for some reasons.
CHARLES COTTEN . I am manager to Mr. Attenborough, of Greek-street, Soho—I produce thirty-one yards of tapestry carpet, a hearth-rug, two table-covers, and damask, for curtains, pawned for 10l. by the prisoner Traumann.
JEAN BAPTISTE DUCHE . I am clerk to Messrs. Spielmann, of Lombard-street—there is no account there in the name of Charles Richards—the prisoner, Zimmermann, had an account there four months—he had a balance of 7d. on 4th April—I know with what sums he opened the account—he did not pay it in to me—a cheque-book is furnished to any person who opens an account—this is one of our cheques—I cannot say whether it was furnished to Zimmermann or not.
had offices there under the name of Ziramermann, Wilkinson, and Co.—I have seen Traumann there—the rent is 20l. a year.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know he had a clerk? A. Yes; Traumann was very often there—I have seen him in conversation with the clerk frequently—my observation supplies me with a knowledge that Traumann was intimate with the clerk—I do not know what has become of the clerk—he came several times to the house after he was discharged.
COURT. Q. Did you ever see Traumann with Zimmermann? A. I do not know that I have—he has gone into Zimmermann's office when he came—Zimmermann said the clerk was discharged because there was something amiss—when he called after that Zimmermann was not there.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Do you know when Traumann has called whether Zimmermann has been in? A. Sometimes not—sometimes only the clerk.
ROBERT HUBBARD (Police inspector, E). I took Traumann into custody, and afterwards took Zimmermann—I told him that I charged him, with a friend of his, whom I had in custody, for conspiring to obtain goods from several houses in the West-end—he first said he did not do it—I said, "You did do it j because Traumann told me that he got the cheque from you"—I asked him where the cheque-book was—he said, "I have not got it"—I said, "Where is it?"—he said, "My clerk absconded with it"—I then asked him if he had got the tickets of some things that were pledged two or three days ago—he said, "No,"—I said, "You had them"—he said, "I sold them "—I said "Two duplicates for things obtained from Messrs. Atkinson, and he said, "I have sold them"—that is all the conversation that passed.
Cross-examined. Q. You knew that he was a foreigner, of course? A. Yes; I did not give him a word of caution before I put these questions—I am quite sure I explained to him what these tickets had relation to—I said, "Two duplicates for things obtained 'by false cheques'"—he understood English perfectly well—he spoke very good English.
COURT. Q. Did you call and see the cabman? A. Yes; it was the same day that the things were obtained from Messrs. Atkinson that I saw the cabman, Kempster—I think it was on Thursday—it was either that day or the next
ZIMMERMANN— GUILTY of Uttering. — Confined Eighteen Months.
Witnesses for Traumann.
PLEADED GUILTY .—(See next case.)
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
keeps an eating-house—the prisoner first came there on 13th March—I served him with some pork and potatoes, the price of which was 4 1/2 d.—he gave me a half-crown in payment—I laid it on the shelf—there was no other half-crown there, only some small silver—I then gave him change and he left—in the afternoon I went to take the money off the shelf, and noticed the half-crown—I examined it and found it was bad—that was about two hours after the prisoner had been there—it was in the same place on the shelf where I put it—my father was in the back room when I served the prisoner—on Monday, 8th April, the prisoner came again—I knew him as soon as he came in—he asked me for some beef, which was 3 1/2 d.—he gave me a shilling—I noticed that it was bad—I took it to my father, at the back of the shop, and spoke to him on the subject, and he went out for a constable—I did not give the prisoner the change—he waited about ten minutes—he had the beef in his hand, but he left it in the shop and walked out at the side-door—I asked him to wait a little longer—he said, What for?"—I said, "You are the same man that gave me the bad half-crown on 13th March"—he did not say anything to that—he was then standing outside the shop—my father had returned with the constable, and we were all standing outside together—my father gave him in custody, and I gave the half-crown and shilling to the police-constable.
Prisoner. Q. How long had you the half-crown in your possession before you found that it was bad? A. About two hours—no one serves in the shop but me—my mother does but not at dinner-time—I did not say that I put the half-crown in the till—I went to the shelf to take it off to give it to my mother, and then I found it was bad—I showed it to my mother, and told her I thought it was bad—she said, "Yes;" and showed it to ray father—I am in the habit of putting money on the shelf—when I found it was bad I put it on another shelf by itself—a constable came into our shop that evening, and we told him of it, and he said we had better keep the date, and then perhaps we should find out who passed it—I did not mark it then.
JOHN WEBB . I am the father of the last 'witness—my daughter showed me a bad shilling on 8th April—from what she said to me I went after a constable and came back and gave the prisoner in custody—I saw the prisoner standing against the door on 13th March, being served—I was at the end of the shop—I am sure he is the same man—I saw my daughter serve him on 13th March.
Prisoner. Q. What part of your premises were you in when the half-crown was given? A. I stood in the door-way, between the shop and the back-parlour—I believe you had a cap on—I cannot say exactly what dress—I did not take particular notice—I merely saw your face—I stood very nearly in the same place when the shilling was given, as I did when the half-crown was given—my daughter brought it to me—I can see my daughter through the door when she serves the meat, when the door is open—we never keep the door shut.
GEORGE BOWERMAN (Policeman, V 333). I took charge of the prisoner—Miss Webb gave me this half-crown and shilling (produced)—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found on him 2d. worth of coppers, a pocket-handkerchief, and a knife—when he was given in custody he said that the day she said he passed the half-crown, he was in Brighton at work.
Prisoner's Defence. The half-crown has been in these people's hands a month and a few days, and there is not the least doubt that it has been
hawked about from one person to another, and it stands very reasonable that they have made mistakes in the money. I came that day from Kingston, having only 1s. 2d. in my possession; I went and had something to eat and gave the shilling, and was told it was bad; I did not know it was bad.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and M. J. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY MATTHEW ROBERTSON . I am a chemist of Dover-street-road—on Saturday, 20th April, about 10 o'clock at night, the prisoner came for a pennyworth of salts, a pennyworth of seen a, and a pennyworth of liquorice—he gave me a half-crown, and I gave him 2s. 3d. change—directly he got outside the door I found it was bad—I had not put it into the till—I cut it with the scissors in two places and put it on a desk—he came again in the evening for a pennyworth of pills, and gave me a bad shilling—I said, "You have been here before and I shall give you in custody"—he said, "Give me the shilling back and I will pay you for the pills"—I said, "I shall do nothing of the kind;"—and told him he had been there before with a bad half-crown—I was standing at the door to prevent his going out, and he said that if I did not get out of the way he would knock me down—I kept him till a constable arrived, and gave him in charge with the coin. Prisoner. I never was in your shop before.
TIMOTHY WALSH (Policeman, M 286). Mr. Robertson gave the prisoner into my custody at his shop—the prisoner said that he was not aware that the shilling was bad, and that he never passed the half-crown.
Prisoner. Mr. Robinson never said that I was the man till I came to the station. A. Yes he did, and you were present.
Prisoner's Defence. I am not guilty of the half-crown at all; the shilling was given me in the Old Kent-read by a gentleman, when I was out looking for money to pay my lodging; I stopped him in the street and asked him for it. I got the pills for my wife as she was not well, but never stepped inside the shop before that.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM EDMUNDS . I keep the Grapes public-house, Thames-street, Southwark—on 1st February, the prisoner was pointed out to me by my daughter, who gave me what appeared to be a half-crown—I said to the prisoner, "Did you tender this half-crown to my daughter?" showing it to him—he said, "Yes"—I said, "It is bad" and took a piece out of it in his presence—he said that he did not know it was bad; a gentleman gave it to him for carrying his portmanteau, and he came in for change—I sent for a policeman, and gave him in custody.
JONATHAN SMITH (Policeman, 485 A). Mr. Edmunds gave the prisoner in my custody on 1st February, and handed over the half-crown to me—he gave his name George Travers, 20, Down's-buildings, Gravel-lane, Southwark—he was taken before a magistrate at Southwark police-court, remanded till 6th February, and then discharged.
ELIZABETH PETTY . My father keeps the White Hart public-house, Bermondsey—on 26th February, the prisoner came there, and I served him with three halfpennyworth of rum—he gave me half-a-crown—I told him to wait
a minute, for I did not think it was good, and called my father down who was at dinner—he spoke to the prisoner.
EDWARD PETTY . I am landlord of the White Hart—on 26th February, my daughter called me to the bar, and gave me a half-crown—the prisoner was there—I asked him if he had given that half-crown—he said, "Yes"—I asked him where he got it—he said that his brother gave it to him—I told him I thought he was the same man who had been once or twice before, and sent for a policeman, and gave him in custody with the half-crown—he offered me a penny, and said that that was all the money he had got.
JOHN MAC-MILLAN (Policeman, M 272). The prisoner was given into my custody at the White Hart—he gave his name George Willis, 22, George-street, Blackfriar's-road—I went there, but could hear nothing of him—he was taken to the Southwark police-court, and remanded for a week, and discharged on 6th March—I received this half-crown (produced).
ANN HEWETT . I am the wife of Robert Hewett, a chandler of 7, Great Southwark-street, Bermondsey—on 16th April, the prisoner came and asked for half a quartern loaf—I served him—he gave me a half-crown—I tried it with my teeth, found it was bad, and asked him what made him come there with it—he muttered something; and asked me for it back again, which I refused, and said if he did not go away, I would give. him. in charge—he was going away, and had got round the corner, when a constable came, and I gave him in custody with the half-crown—I am sure he is the man.
JAMES BURR (174 M). On 16th April, I took the prisoner in Surreyrow, 600 or 700 yards from Mr. Hewett's shop—I took him. back to the shop—Mrs. Hewett identified him, and I took him in custody—he gave the name of Robert Saunders, 23, Surrey-street, Webber-street, Blackfriar's-road—I went there, but nothing was known of him.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing of its being bad.
GUILTY — Confined Six Months.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JUNE 10, 1861.