CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
CUBITT, MAYOR—SECOND MAYORALTY.
TENTH SESSION, HELD AUGUST 18TH, 1862.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court.
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE,
REVISED AND EDITED BY
ROBERT ORRIDGE, ESQ.
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.
On the Queen's Commission of
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, August 18th, 1862, and following days.
BEFORE Sir Edward Vaughan Williams, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir Colin Blackburn, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; William Taylor Copeland, Esq., M.P.; Sir John Musgrove, Bart.; David Salomons, Esq., M.P.; Warren Stormes Hale, Esq.; and Sills John Gibbons, Esq., Aldermen of the City of London; Thomas Chambers, Esq. Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; and Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq., Judge of the Sheriff's Court of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
GEORGE JOSEPH COCKERELL, Esq.
WILLIAM HOLME TWENTYMAN, Esq.
FREDERICK FARRAR, Esq.
CHARLES GAMMON, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
CUBITT, MAYOR. SECOND MAYORALTY.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two start (**) 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, August 18th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. COPELAND; Mr. Ald. GIBBON; and Mr. COMMON
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. METCALFE and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HENRY SAUNDERS . I am an assistant to Mr. Hamber, one of the messengers in bankruptcy—I produce the proceedings in the defendant's bankruptcy—he was adjudged bankrupt on May 14, and his petition bears the same date—I also produce the balance-sheet, and a transcript of the shorthand writer's notes of 9th June; they are all on the file, and all sealed with the seal of the Bankruptcy Court—the defendant is described in his petition as William Champion Eaton, commonly called William Eaton, of Skinner-street, Snow-hill, commercial hotel keeper, formerly of Trinity-square, Southwark, accountant and lodging-house keeper—I find in the accounts, "Mr. Gibbs, address unknown, 1862, 12s. 6d. for board and lodging"—I see no other debtor in the schedule—that is entered as a bad debt—the gross amount of the debts in the balance-sheet is 266l. 4s. 4d.—the creditors unsecured amount to 244l. 4s. 4d.; creditors secured nil, to be paid in full, Rent, 25l.; bad, 12s. 6d.—the creditors unsecured are Messrs. Smee and Son, Finsbury-pavement, 165l. 6s. 7., for goods sold and work done; Mrs. Aves, 58, Fenchurch-street, 65l., 40l. of which is premium on taking premises in Skinner-street, and 25l. for a quarter's rent—she holds a bill of exchange for one moiety of the premium due 31st July; Thomas Steele, draper, 52, High-street, Southwark, 15l., for goods sold and delivered; Mr. Goodwin, painter, &c., Little Brittain, 12l., for work done; Alfred Hobbs, schoolmaster, 140, Great Dover-street, for schooling for son—that creditor holds a bill drawn by him due July, 1862—Mr. White, wine merchant, and Mr. Hill, cheesemonger, are also creditors, making altogether 266l. 4s. 4d.
was filed on 14th May, 1862, at about twenty minutes past 12—I produce the original admission of debt for 165l. 6s. 7d., signed by the prisoner.
GEORGE DANIEL SNELL . I live at 32, Cumming-street, Pentonville, and am one of the shorthand writers to the Court of Bankruptcy—I attended there on 9th June when the bankrupt was examined—I had previously taken a declaration under the Act of 1861 to take the examination accurately in shorthand, and make a true transcript—the defendant was sworn on that day, and examined by Mr. Turner—I have here the transcript of the examination (This stated that the goods were delivered at the end of February or the beginning of March; that he had them for the purpose of carrying on an hotel in Skinner-street; that they were afterwards removed to Messrs. Cutten and Davis's, and that he had pledged part of them for 32l. 2s., and afterwards sold his interest in the tickets, and with the money had paid wages, and Mr. Catchpole, his attorney, for the fees of the court; that he had been bankrupt about sixteen years ago, and not since, though he was insolvent eight years ago).
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Were the questions all put by Mr. Turner, the attorney, for Messrs. Smee and Co.? A. Yes; the majority of them—he is the solicitor to the assignees—I do not know whether Smee and Co. were the assignees; but, if they were, Messrs. Sole and Turner were their attorneys.
JOHN HENRY SMEE . I am one of the firm of Smee and Co., uphosterers, of Finsbury-pavement, and am one of the assignees of the estate—I was not present when the prisoner first came for goods—I am not aware that goods to the amount of 100l. were given up—I think they realized from 30l. to 40l.—it was about 10s. in the pound on the cost price—out of that 35l. was set down for rent—they were all goods purchased at our establishment.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see him? A. The third time he called—it was about six weeks before the goods were supplied—he gave me references to whom I referred, and was satisfied—the goods were sold to him on credit—the understanding I had with him in conversation was that there was to be, I think, twelve months' credit—that was embodied in a letter—he proposed terms of credit rather vaguely as to what he could pay, and I asked him to state what he actually could pay under any circumstances, and certain instalments were mentioned; 15l. in April, and 10l. each succeeding month—I think that would amount to the same thing as twelve months' credit—he stated that he should be able to pay off a good deal more than those instalments—he frequently spoke of his expectations from the business—he said that he probably could pay more than 10l. a month; and, if the business succeeded, he would clear off the whole in a few months—that conversation was in January—I arranged for the articles to be supplied at the same time—the order was completed during February and March—I am quite sure he made a positive promise to pay 15l. in April—I sent to him for the money on 15th April, and again on the 16th—he then called on me and asked for time; but, I believe, no time was mentioned—I sent my attorney, Mr. Turner, to him next day—we proposed that he should give an unconditional bill of sale on all the goods, which he declined, and we commenced an action against him for the whole amount, and issued a summons in bankruptcy against him at the same time—the goods were not sold at credit prices; we should have given him two and a half discount for cash—after this petition everything that was not pawned was taken away from the hotel and sold by us, as assignees, by auction, at Cutten and Davis's, the brokers to the Court—I was not present at the sale—I have no doubt that
the amount they realized was 39l.—they were sold in one day, I believe—they get over broker's sales very quickly, and great bargains are sold—I do not know when the attorneys called upon the prisoner.
MR. METCALFE. Q. On 15th May did another instalment become due? A. Yes; 10l.—I am now aware that the goods were pledged on the 13th And 14th.
JOHN HARBORN . I am a salesman in the employ of Messrs. Smee—I have the order-book here—the defendant came there in January, and selected some articles, which were sent to Skinner-street—the majority of them were sent in February, and the latest delivery was on or about 6th March—I have since seen between 80l. and 90l. worth of the goods in the hands of the pawnbrokers—I am taking the invoice price—I have seen the tickets—I went to this place in Skinner-street, but not till after the goods were delivered—the business carried on was that of an eating-house and boarding-house; but there was no indication of it to the public at that time—the goods were for the furniture of bed-rooms, a breakfast-room, and dining-room—they were such goods as we supply to hotel keepers.
Cross-examined. Q. The last thing you supplied, I believe, was a large dining-table, in March? A. No; the dining-table was supplied at the latter end of February—we supplied two or three lengths of stair carpet in March—25s. was charged for the chairs; they are in hair cloth—the gondola chairs were in leather, and were charged 4l. 2s. a-piece—the writing-table was 4l. 10s., and the dining-table six guineas—it was a mahogany table, with a deal top—it was not supplied till the end of February, because he did not wish to open till March, and gave me plenty of time to get it executed—my impression was not that there was to be twelve months' credit—the conversation was in January, and he was to pay 15l. in April, or 15l. in three months, as near as I recollect—I know nothing about any subsequent arrangement.
MR. METCALFE. Q. YOU have nothing to do with cash transactions? A. No.
WILLIAM LARK . I am assistant to Mr. Lawley, a pawnbroker, of 78, Farringdon street—on 13th May, the prisoner pawned a hearth-rug with me, and four pieces of felt, two pieces of carpet, and three pieces of stair-carpet, for 2l., and a chimney-glass for two guineas, making 4l. 2s., in the name of Roberts, of Snow-hill.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know the value of the chimney-glass? Q. Yes; I could purchase such a one in the trade for 4l., or four guineas, a few doors off—I should say that six guineas would be too much for it—four guineas would be the credit price—there would be ten per cent, discount off the four guineas—I heard Mr. Smee state that he only allowed two and a half per cent, discount; that surprised me.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Were they new goods? A. No; the carpet had marks as if it had been down six months—the glass was dusty, and evidently had been up in a room—I cannot say that it was perfectly new—a glass in my own room, which has been up twelve months, looks no better—I made no inquiries on account of the appearance of the person.
MR. RIBTON to JOHN HARBORN. Q. What did you charge for the chimney-Glass? A. There were two, one was 4l. 10s., and the other 5l. 15s.; they both had gilt frames.
RICHARD HENRY CLOUGH . I am assistant to Mr. Attenborough, a pawnbroker, of Crown-street, Finsbury—on 13th May, I took in five beds, three bolsters, and six pillows, and advanced on them various sums, amounting to
7l., in the name of William Roberts, 15, Snow-hill—the feather beds and bolsters had cotton ticks, and were by no means first class; but they would pay principal and interest if they were left, and that is all we require.
BENJAMIN HATCHARD . I am assistant to Mr. Sedley, a pawnbroker, of 79, Snow-hill—on 13th May, I advanced the defendant 40s. on two swing dressing-glasses, and three mattresses iu the name of George Roberts, of Snow-hill.
HENRY PARKER . I am assistant to Mr. Folkard, a pawnbroker, of Blackfriars-road—on 14th May, I advanced the defendant 9l. on a mahogany side-board, a couch, three painted chests of drawers, an iron bedstead, and six chairs—it was about 11 o'clock in the morning—he signed the deposit, "William Eaton, 15, Skinner-street, Snow-hill.
Cross-examined. Q. What sort of chairs were they? A. There were some birch chairs, and two easy chairs—he told me the price he paid for them, which I thought was excessive—the two easy chairs were 5l. each, which I could buy for 25s.; they were stuffed with wool, and, if they were first class, they would be stuffed with hair, which they ought to have been at that price—I should say that, put into the first market, they would not fetch more than 1l. or 25s.—if a person went with ready money, the price should be about 35s., but a furniture shop and an upholsterers is a different thing—we should feel most happy if the articles fetched us 12l.—we keep them three months, not twelve, as it was a deposit.
MR. RIBTON to JOHN HARBORN. Q. What did you charge for the two easy chairs? A. 4l. 16s. each—you can stuff a chair at 25s. to have the same appearance.
CHARLES BISHOP . I am a bootmaker, and live at 62, Borough-road—I have known the prisoner two and a half or three years—I purchased three pairs of curtains and thirteen duplicates of him, on 14th May, for 10l.—besides the duplicates, I got a deposit note—it was after 11 o'clock; it was after I had got to business in the morning—it was before mid-day.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
779. JAMES CLARK FENWICK (24) , Embezzling the sum of 46l. 2s. 8d.; also 70l. 2s. 6d., the moneys of William Sturt and others, his masters;to both of which he PLEADED GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy bythe prosecutors. —
Six Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY , and received a good character.— Confined Twelve Months
PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully wounding. — Confined Six Months
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS SEXTON . On 16th July, about 12 o'clock in the day, I went into the Railway Tavern beer shop, Chase gate, Enfield—the prisoners were there—I had never seen them before—I had a pot of beer, and they helped to
drink it with me—when the pot was empty one of them asked me to stand some more—I had 8s. and this tobacco-box (produced) in my left trouters pocket; there were two half-crowns, some shillings, and a fourpenny bit—I I took it all out in my hand when I paid the landlady, and the prisoners could see it—I gave her 1s., and she gave me back sixpence and twopence—I have a private mark on this tobacco-box—as soon as the beer was drunk I left, and the prisoners followed me—I had gone about two chains, when Brophy knocked me down, and the other two put their hands in my pockets and robbed me—one of them said, "Have you got it?"—the other said, "Yes; all right," and they went away—one of them had my finger in his mouth while I was down, and bit it most awfully—none of them hit me, but I was hurt on the hip and shoulder with the fall—I afterwards met a policeman—I saw the prisoners about an hour afterwards in custody—I went to the green and found Chow, and he was taken in custody—I found Cherry at the back of the barracks.
Brophy. Q. Did not you say you could fight me for 5s.? A. No such thing—I did not strike you first.
Chow. Q. There were two other men besides us? A. I saw nobody but you three—I did not accuse any one else of having a half-crown of mine, or strike him.
Cherry. You challenged us to fight. Witness. No such thing.
GEORGE HORTON (Policeman, S 344). On 16th July, about half-past 4 o'clock, I met Sexton at the bottom of Hadleigh-green, with his face bruised and his finger bleeding—he said that he had been robbed, and described three men—he went with me to the top of the Green, where he identified Chow, who was lying asleep—I took-him in custody, searched him, and found on him a half-crown, and sixpence in coppers—Sexton had been drinking a little, but was sober.
JOHN PARSLEY (Policeman, S 158). I assisted Horton in taking Chow to the station, and heard Sexton describe the other two men—I took him to a field behind the barracks, where he identified Cherry, who I took to the station; I found on him this tobacco-box, which Sexton said was his—I found Brophy sitting in a Baker's shop, in High-street, Chipping, Barnet—Sexton said, "That is the man who first assaulted me, and had my finger in his mouth"—I found on him a half-crown, a silence, and sixpence halfpenny in coppers.
ELIZABETH HUCKLESBY . I am the wife of William Hucklesby, who keeps the Railway Tavern, Enfield—on 16th July, Sexton was there, and also the three prisoners—I did not know them before—Sexton left at half-past 12, and the prisoners followed him out, and I saw Brophy knock him down—the other prisoners did not do anything, but they were close by.
Brophy. Q. Have not you seen me there before? A. You came in in the morning, but you were quite a stranger to me—you came on the Monday and on the Wednesday morning; that was all I saw of you.
Chow. Q. Did you not hear the prosecutor accuse Brophy of taking a half-crown? A. I heard them wrangling in the tap-room about a half-crown which the prosecutor had lost.
Cherry. We all went out together. Witness. I told you I would not draw any more beer, and you went out—you were not all drunk.
SARAH MARSHALL . I keep a beer house close to the Chase-gate close—on 16th July, I saw Sexton close by the beer house, and saw Brophy knock him into the ditch—they rolled him out on one side, and knocked him in again
on the other side of the road—I saw them feeling his clothes—there was nobody there but the prisoners and Sexton.
Brophy's Defence. He challenged me to fight, but I never robbed him of a shilling. He accused me of taking his half-crown, and I went out to flight him.
Chow's Defence. I know nothing about the crime.
Cherry. I picked up the tobacco-box and put it in my pocket.
GUILTY — Confined Twelve Months each.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
788. CHARLES HOWARD (28), (a soldier), Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Armelino du Coster Ricci, and stealing therein, 3 spoons, and other articles, his property, and 2 gowns and a shawl the property of Isabella Blackwood.
ISABELLA BLACKWOOD . I am servant to Armelino du Coster Ricci, of 2, Inwood-cottages, Hounslow, in the parish of Isleworth—on Monday night, 16th July, I fastened up the house at half-past 10 o'clock—there is a little window in the safe which had a piece of paper in it to keep it partly open, and let the air in—I fastened the back-kitchen shutters with a little button inside—I came down next morning about 6 o'clock, and found the back kitchen shutters open; I found a match box and a pair of shoe brushes on the floor—on the front-kitchen table I found some matches, and some more, which had been lighted, in the fire-place—two bottles of beer had been emptied, and the bottles set beside the cupboard—I missed three silver dessert-spoons, a silver table-spoon, five plated forks, a table cloth of my masters, and two dresses, a shawl, and a piece of calico of mine, which were all safe when I went to bed—these are them (produced)—I found these gloves on the table, they were not there the night before.
CHARLES BLAKE (Policeman, S 34). I received information of the robbary and examined the place, an entry had been effected by a small window at the side of the house leading to the larder—the back-kitchen door was unfastened and open, and there were marks as if a person had got out there, having got in at the other window—I received a pair of gloves from the last witness, one of which is identified by the sergeant-major.
5, on the morning of 28th July, 200 or 300 yards from the prosecutor's house, and saw the prisoner carrying a bundle—I asked him what he had got, he said I do not know, something which I picked up in the road—I took him to the station, and found the bundle contained two dresses, a shawl, a table cloth, a piece of calico, four silver spoons, and some plated forks, which I showed to the first witness who identified them.
ANNA RUSSELL DU COSTA RICCI . I am the wife of Armelino Du Coster Ricci—these articles are his property, they were all safe on the night of the 29th—I called the servant up at a quarter to 6 on 13th July.
JAMES TAYLOR . I am a sergeant in the 5th Lancers, quartered at Aldershot, but we were at Hounslow at this time—the prisoner was in the regiment, and was absent without leave from the 21st until he was taken in the custody—this is a regimental glove belonging to him, it has his number on it, 596—the other is not a regimental glove.
PETER KNIGHT (Policeman, S 142). On 29th July, about a quarter to 3 in the morning, I was on duty near the house, and met the prisoner in the road—I asked him where he was going—he said that he could not get into the barracks till 5 o'clock, and was going for a walk; he was coming in a direction from the house towards Isleworth—he had nothing with him, he went his way and I went mine.
His sergeant gave him a good character.
Confined Six Months.
NEW COURT.—Monday, August 18th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. SALOMONS, M.P., and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR, Esq.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. TAYLOR conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HODGES . I am the landlord of the Acorn public-house, Great Cambridge-street, Hackney-road—about 5 o'clock on the afternoon of 9th July, the three prisoners, and another one named Collins, came in together—I refused to serve them, and requested them to go away—the two Collins's and Hamilton left—Pickard remained and became very abusive, he used very bad language; I went round and remonstrated with him, and requested him to leave—I took hold of him by the arm, and he seized me by the collar and bit my arm—I called my man Brent to my assistance—the other prisoners immediately returned together, and Hamilton came and put her arm round me, and then I found Pickard pulling my chain—I still held him back and caught hold of my watch—Hamilton endeavoured to get hold of my watch, with her arm round my waist—her hand was at my watch-pocket, and then a policeman came in.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. (For Collins). Q. Were they somewhat the worse for liquor when they came in? A. They were excited—they had drunk nothing whatever in my house—Hamilton and Collins left together when I ordered them to leave—they held the door open the whole time they were out—I have seen Collins occasionally—I do not know that he rents a saw-mill.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. (For Pickard). Q. When they left you you were the other side of the bar were you not? A. I was—Pickard merely used bad language until I came round to him—I did not use any violence
whatever to remove him—I only put my hand on him—I wore my watch precisely as it is now—I was holding him back at the time he caught hold of my chain.
Cross-examined by MR. ATKINSON. (For Hamilton). Q. What time was This? A. About 5 o'clock in the afternoon, broad daylight—my man was not there when the woman first came in—he was fetched from the back of the premises—he was within call—there were no other customers in the house—my wife and some female servants were in the house, within call—Hamilton was at the back of me with one arm round me, not trying to rescue me at all—my wife called to me, "Mind your watch"—I was not wearing this waistcoat at that time.
MR. TAYLOR. Q. Did you request Pickard civilly to go? A. I did several times—immediately he seized my watch chain, the other prisoners came in.
JURY. Q. Did you refuse to serve him, from his excited state? A. They were all excited, and I thought they had had sufficient to drink.
JOSEPH BRENT . I am potman to the last witness—on 9th July, in the afternoon, I went to his assistance when he called me, and saw Pickard holding him, and he holding Pickard—I had hardly made my appearance before the prisoner Collins and his son attacked me very violently, and struck me on the back of the head—that was just as I reached my master, before I had an opportunity of doing anything—they also gave me a black eye—they would not allow me to assist my master, until the policeman came—my master's waistcoat and shirt were torn.
PETER DEVITT (Policeman, N 92). About half-past 5, on the night of 9th July, I was called to the house of Mr. Hodges and found Pickard and Hamilton in there—Pickard had hold of Mr. Hodges' pocket with one hand, and the other hand on his watch chain, close to the bow of the chain, trying to take the watch from his pocket—Hamilton had her left arm round Mr. Hodges, having hold of the pocket as though she was trying to move the watch with the assistance of Pickard—Mr. Hodges' hand was on his watch keeping the pocket close—I immediately arrested both Pickard's hands, and dragged him into the street, followed by Hamilton—I was assaulted and knocked down by Pickard—Hamilton also struck me—they were secured; Collins was secured by Brent—I called another constable to take the woman and he held her till I returned.
The Court considered that there was not sufficient evidence to convict the prisoners upon.
NOT GUILTY .
790. CHARLOTTE HAMILTON and ALFRED PICKARD were again indicted for assaulting Peter Devitt, a policeman, in the execution of his duty; they were also charged on another count with a common assault;to which they
PLEADED GUILTY , and Pickard received a good character.
Confined Fourteen Day's each.
PLEADED GUILTY , and received a good character.— Fined 5l.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
to which he PLEADED GUILTY .—He received a good character.— Confined Two Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .*— Confined Twelve Months.
799. JOHN STURDY (21) , Stealing 70l., the property of William Henry Smith and others, his masters; also stealing 2 orders for the payment of 15l., 6s. and 19l. 8s. 7d., the property of Guilford Barker Richardson, in his dwelling-house; also stealing 2 pistols and case, and a musical box, value 18l., the property of Guilford Barker Richardson and others, in their dwelling-house; also unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, of Edward Knight Maddock, an order for 17l. 10s.; to all which he
PLEADED GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor. —
Four Years'Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Six Years Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .*†— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM EARL . I live at 29, New North-street, and am a carpenter—I have a work-shop at 9, St Ann's-court—on 30th June, between 8 and 9 o'clock at night, I locked it up and left it, leaving some tools on the bench, two planes, two jack planes, and other tools, worth about 4l.—I came there on the following morning about 6 o'clock—the shop had been entered from the back window, which was shot when I left it the night before—in the
morning the planes were all gone—the shop belongs to a dwelling-house—you cannot get into the dwelling-house from the street without going through a passage at the back—I merely know the prisoner by seeing him standing at the Red Bull public-house at the corner, opposite my shop.
FREDERICK LAWRENCE . I live at 22, St. Ann's-court, and know the prisoner—I saw him on Tuesday morning, 1st July last, at about half-past 5 o'clock, with another man, next door to where the things were stolen from, Mr. Earl's shop—he was carrying some saws in his hand—the other man had a basket of tools on the back of his neck.
Prisoner. Q. Where did you first see me that morning? A. At the tailor's; next to the carpenter's shop—I did not see you come out of the prosecutor's house—I do not know whether you had been in there—I believe you had the prosecutor's property.
JAMES BURTON . I live at 5, Carlisle-street, Soho—on Tuesday, 1st July, a little before 6 in the morning, I was in Dean-street, and saw the prisoner come from St. Ann's-court with another man—he had three or four large saws in his right hand, and a small lot of tools in his left; the man behind him was dressed in a flannel jacket, and carried a carpenter's basket, slung over his shoulder, containing very large planes.
Prisoner. Q. Had I been in the prosecutor's house? A. I cannot say, because I was in Dean-street; you looked at me two or three times, and, when you were going into Chapel-street, you turned and looked at me again—I have seen you about there since with very bad characters—if there had been a policeman at the corner I should have given information—I did not hear of the robbery till 10 o'clock, and then I gave information—I had suspicion at the time I saw you—I did not follow you, because I had my business to attend to.
EDWARD TYLER (Policeman, C 164). I took the prisoner on 8th July at the Coach and Horses public-house, Crown-street—I charged him with a burglary in St. Ann's-court, and stealing some carpenter's tools—he said he knew nothing about it—I heard of him before I took him—I had been regularly on my beat and saw him there; I had not been looking after him especially.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GENT conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY GROVES (Policeman, H 72). On 26th July, from information I received, I found the prisoner at Spitalfields, at 9 o'clock in the morning, selling vegetables that were in a cart—I went up to him and asked him whose goods they were—he said they were his own—I asked him his name—he said, "That is my name and address on the cart"—"William Martin, 80, High-street, Marylebone," was on the cart—I heard him making an agreement, with a person named Jones, about buying the vegetables—I told him I thought it was not right, and I should take him to the warehouse—he said that I could do as I liked—he had received 21s. from Jones for one part of the goods, and was to have 14s. for the rest of them; that was for the whole contents of the cart, not for the horse and cart—I took him and the horse and cart to the station with the assistance of another constable, and Jones also went—the prisoner stated there that they were his own things,
horse and cart, and all, were his own—the sergeant on duty said if it was his own he had a right to sell it if he liked—he said the reason he sold it was that he had had a quarrel with his wife in Covent-garden market, and had come there to sell it—he then received the other 14s. from Jones, who took the whole of the things in the cart, away—the prisoner was drunk—I charged him with being drunk and incapable of taking care of the horse and cart—I then went to 80, High-street, Marylebone, the address on the cart, and found Mr. Martin at No. 75; he had removed from No. 80, and he told me the horse and cart had been stolen from Covent-garden market—I went back to the prisoner with Mr. Martin—the prisoner gave the name of Martin when he was locked up, and the same address—that is not his address—his address is at a common lodging-house in Hanover-court, Long-acre—after the charge was taken the inspector said, "I will send this horse and cart home if you like, to bear the expense of it"—he said, "No, send it to the Green-yard or where you like; I don't want my wife to know where I am," and it was sent to the Green-yard—I have not been able to find but that Richard Dicks in the prisoner's correct name.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. Do not you know that it is correct? A. He was not known at the place I went to—I am not certain that it is his right name—I had not been watching him many minutes before I took him; I had received information—he was not very drunk—the charge entered in the book was of being drunk and incapable of taking care of the horse and cart—Jones is a costermonger—there was no one besides Jones in his company that I am aware of—I have never said that a man ran away who was in his company; I swear that—I said that there was a man in his company; but nothing about his running away—I have never said anything about a man's running away—I have not brought any one from Hanovercourt—it was after he had been looked up about four house that he said his right name was Richard Dicks.
WILLIAM MARTIN . I live at 75, High-street, Marylebone, and am a greengrocer—my horse and cart, with my name on it, were in Long-acre on the morning of 26th July—it was quite safe there at half-past 7, near Covent-garden—it contained a quantity of fruit and vegetables which I had purchased—I lost it—I had gone down into the market again—I heard of it about ten minutes after—I sent one of the porters up with some goods, and they returned and said it was not there—the cart had got my name and address on it—I do not know the prisoner—I never authorised him to take my cart and sell my goods out of it—I never saw him before the morning of the 26th, when I saw him at Spitalfields station, about 1 o'clock, in custody.
Cross-examined. Q. What sort of a horse and cart was it? A. It is not a new cart—I do not consider that it is an old horse—there was nothing particular about the animal, no marks—the cart is green outside, with a white line upon it—my name is on the shaft in the usual style of letters—there were, I dare say, about two hundred carts in Long-acre at the time; not exactly like mine, but the same kind of cart—I found my horse and cart in the Green-yard.
JOSEPH JONES . I saw the prisoner in Spitalfields on 26th July—I did not speak to him; he said he had fallen out with his wife—he was then standing on the ground, not in the cart—he said she had bought some goods which did not suit him, and he should sell them again—he asked me if I would buy them—I said I would if I saw them—he put them out on the ground, and I gave him a guinea there for one lot, and 14s. for the other—
I am a greengrocer—the policeman did not think it was right; we went to the station-house, and the sergeant said, "It seems right;" and he asked me what money I was going to give the man, and I gave him the 14s.—he was tipsy: he knew how to drive the bargain—I paid him the remaining money at the station.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not you know that he was a greengrocer like yourself? A. No; I never saw him before—he was drunk when he told me that he had fallen out with his wife—when the policeman asked him his name he pointed to the cart, and said, "There is my name and address"—he did not mention his name then in any other way—I went to the station, and was present all the time, until he said they might send the cart to the Green-yard, and then went to the market—I did not know he was locked up—I went out, and left them talking—the sergeant told me I could go about my business, and take the things—I did not see him leave the room before that—I was asked this Monday about giving evidence here—one day last week there was a paper left at my house.
COURT to HENRY GROVES. Q. You say his address was a common lodging-House? A. Yes; and a man there said he knew him, but did not know his name—nothing was known there of his wife.
GUILTY — Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, August 19th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald HALE; Mr. Ald. GIBBON; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
805. ALEXANDER McBRIDE (32) , Stealing 112 yards of silk, value 22l.; also 92 yards of silk, value 20l., and other goods, the property of George Brown and others, his masters; to both which he PLEADED GUILTY .
The prosecutor stated that the prisoner's defalcations during the three years amounted to nearly 400l.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
806. CHARLES WEST (40) , Stealing 1 ring, value 17l. 7s. the property of Samuel Burton, in his dwelling-house; also 1 ring, value 10l., the property of Andrew Campbell, in his dwelling-house; also 1 ring, value 8l., the property of Thomas Cockayne, in his dwelling-house;to all which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
PLEADED GUILTY .**†— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BRETT . I am a carman in the service of Messrs. Shoolbred, and live at 9, Huntley-street, Tottenham-court-road—on Sunday, 13th July, about 11 o'clock in the evening, I was at the end of Cannon-street—I saw the prisoner there, driving a Hansom's cab—he struck me across the face with the thong end of the whip—I let go my wife, who was on my arm, and caught him why the leg of his trousers and the stock of his whip behind, and asked him why he struck me—he made use of some foul expression, and said, why did not I get out of the way—I said, "My dear fellow, I was not in your way in the least; you neither had to pull your horse up, nor on one side, for me,
and why did you strike me?"—he said, "Let me go, or I will kick your brains out"—I said, "I will if you promise not to strike me again"—some bystander said, "Tom, why don't you keep your whip still? the man has no wish to detain you"—I said that I had not, if he promised not to strike me again—with that I let go, thinking he would go about his business—he then turned round and struck me three or four times across my head; but, baring my head down, it did not hurt me—I made a dart at him to catch him again—he then thrust his whip back into my eye, and drove away over the bridge—I did not notice Burns at that time; there were several persons round—I followed the cab after that, nearly down to the dark arches at the Fresh-wharf, calling out, "Stop that cab"—I was then so exhausted that I stopped—the sight of my eye is quite gone—the prisoner is the man—I have not the least doubt of it, if I had he would have had the benefit of it long ago—this happened right opposite the Ring William statue, where there were five or six lights burning—I saw the prisoner next when he was brought out from his house; I do not know the date—I went with the policeman and Burns—I waited outside with Burns, about 200 yards away, in the same street or terrace—the policeman came out with one man first, and then came out again with two men—he did not bring out the prisoner there—the two men were brought out of the yard where the cabs stand—we then went across Primrose-hill to the prisoner's private house—the policeman went in—Burns and I stayed some 200 yards away from the house—we remained till the policeman came out with the prisoner—I at once identified him.
Cross-examined by MR. ATKINSON. Q. Did this take place in the road? A. I was on the pavement when I was first struck—I went into the road after him, within three or four yards-of the pavement—I had nothing to do with offering the reward, and I was not aware of it—I have been aware of it since—I cannot say how long it was after this, it was before the prisoner was apprehended, decidedly—I knew there ware bills printed then, but how many days after I cannot say—I did not identify the prisoner until he was brought out of his own house by the policeman—after we left the yard the officer told us we were on the right scent, or something of that kind—I knew we were going to the house where we presumed he lived—I did not take the number of the cab—there was a difficulty in my taking it—any bystander could have taken it much better than myself.
MR. RIBTON. Q. In point of fact, you were not able to take it? A. I was not.
PHILIP BURNS . I live at 22, Acorn-street, Bishopsgate-street—on Sunday evening, 13th July, I was at the end of Cannon-street, near the King William statue—I saw the prisoner there, and the prosecutor holding him by the leg and his whip—the prisoner was driving a Hansom's cab—he said, "If you don't let go, I will kick your brains out"—he then took the whip deliberately and shoved it in his eye—I was close to him—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man—after that the cab drove off, and I followed it nearly half-way over London-bridge, when I was obliged to give over—I was not able to take the number; he kept whipping me—I then returned to where this happened—in about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes he came back; somebody struck me with a whip, which made me look, up sharp, and I recognized the same man—I followed him; and he got down off his cab and kicked me in the ribs—he said, "I will give it to you for following me"—a policeman was then coming up St. Martin's-lane, Cannon-street, and he went off—he was twenty yards off of his cab; that was the reason I could not have the number—he ran back, got on to his
cab, and went away—I saw him again, on the Wednesday week after, in Cannon-street, on a Hansom—I was then able to take the number of the cab, and gave information to the police—I cannot say whether he saw me—I was all of a shake when I saw him; it turned my whole frame when I saw him—I am quite sure he was the same man—the man that I saw when I took the number, was the same man I saw on 13th—a few days afterwards I went with the policeman and Brett to some yard; the policeman went in there, and first came out with one man and then with two; neither of them was the prisoner—the policeman then took us to the prisoner's house; I remained outside; and as soon as the prisoner was brought, I said, "That is him"—I heard him speak on the 13th—I heard him say something to the policeman on the 29th—he spoke in a most excited manner—I will not speak to his voice; I know him by his features—I have not the slightest doubt that he is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. A labourer—I work wherever I can get it—I work now for Wilkins and Co., of Thames-street—I ought to be there now—I went there on Friday—I had no employment at the time this took place—I saw this reward of 5l. a few days after—I did not go to the policeman, or go to find Brett out, because the police on the bridge gave a description of me, and I was found—he went sharp over the bridge—at the time I first saw him the man had got hold of his whip and trousers—I did not take the number of the cab, because I did not think it would lead to anything—I ran after him, but that was after the man's eye was out—when he kicked me in the ribs the cab was twenty yards off—he did not get down from the cab with the whip in his hand—I could not take the number then, he drove off so sharp—when I saw the policeman in Martin's-lane, I went to inform him of it, and in my doing so he made off—the policeman was coming up the lane.
COURT. Q. Can you tell me anything that the man said when he came back, about a quarter of an hour afterwards? A. He said, "You b—, I will give you something for interfering with me"—I pursued him up Cannon-street, and called out, "Stop that cab"—he struck at me when he came back, as he was passing, and I looked up and recognised him—I did not see him before he struck me—he said, "I will give you something;" and I looked up and recognized the same features.
ANTHONY WILSON MONGER (City-policeman). I took the prisoner on the 29th—I received information on the 25th from Burns—I saw him first at the police-station—I had left word for him to come there—I heard about Burns, by inquiries I was making about the case; he was described to me by one of our own men—I was able to find him out—his name was communicated, not his address—he told me the number of the cab, 1,020—he had got it pricked out on a piece of paper with a pin—I went, on the 29th, to a cab-yard, at Fitzroy-place, Regent's-park—I left the two others outside, and went in—I came out again, accompanied by the driver of 1,020—I cannot tell his name—the two men saw him, and said he was not the man—I then came out accompanied by two, the master and the man, and they said neither of them was the man—then, from information I received, I went to 10, Henry-street, Portland-town—Brett, Burns, and the master, went with me—I told them where I was going—I went with them to where the prisoner lived, and left them outside—I knocked at the door; his wife answered it; I asked for him, and he came down in his shirt sleeves—Brett and Burns identified him at once, at some distance—they said, "That is the man"—I told him who I was, and told him he must come
back and dress—I followed him up stairs, and asked him what cab he was driving on Sunday, 13th July—he said he was driving a Hansom cab—I asked him a second time, and he said, "Yes; I was driving a Hansom cab and I can show you"—he went to a box and pulled out this little book (produced), saying, "I will soon show you; I book down every day who I drive for, and what money I pay in"—he said, "On Sunday, 13th June, I was driving for Jim, and I paid 18s. to my master"—I asked him who Jim was, and he said he was his master's brother—I took possession of the book, and brought him away—in the house, before I took him, I said that he would be charged with violently assaulting a man, and injuring his eye—I pointed out the prosecutor to him—he said he knew nothing about it—it was after that that I asked him where he had been on 13th—I showed him this bill; he read it, and said to hit wife, "You know the barber; go and tell him; he knows he cut my whiskers off, a short time ago, when they were very long;" nothing more than that—after he read the bill, he said he was driving a four-wheeled cab.
Cross-examined. Q. But he said something else; did he not say that the man who did this ought to be transported? A. Yes; he certainly said that—he used some rather high language—he also said that his wife kept the book, not he.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM HIGGINS . I am a cab proprietor of Fitsroy-road, Regents-park—I keep two Hansom's and two four-wheelers—the prisoner was in my employ as odd man, he is a very quiet man—he sometimes drives a four-wheeler, and sometimes a Hansom—the rule in my yard is, that when a man takes out a cab in the morning he keeps it all day—I keep no books—I remember Sunday, 13th July, the prisoner drove for me that day—my brother George drives for me,. but he did not do so on that Sunday; it is usual for my men to have one day's rest in the week, Monday was my brother's rest day, but an arrangement was made by which he worked on the Sunday, as the prisoner was to go somewhere with his brothers on Monday—my brother's cab is a four-wheeler—the two Hansoms were driven on Sunday by James Finch and Joseph Woodland—I stayed to receive the money that Sunday till between 12 and 1 that night—Finch and Woodland came in at 1 o'clock in the night and paid me; Finch drove No. 3,545, and Woodland, 1,020—Finch is known by the name of Jim, the cab he drove is a cane-sided one.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was Woodland's a dark cab? A. Yes; George is my brother, he is not called Jim—Finch is my brother-in-law, he is called Jim; he is the man who drove the cane-sided cab—I was first asked about 13th July, on the Tuesday fortnight afterwards—I do not exactly recollect the day the prisoner was taken; I have no books of any sort—I cannot tell you who drove my cabs on 6th July, or on the 20th, or the 27th; I cannot tell you who had the Hansom's and who had the four-wheelers—I saw part of this circular (a handbill), I did not read it, I am no scholar; that is the reason I keep no books—according to the statement on the bill, the man drove a Hansom's cab—on Sundays, I do not arrange with the men, but they pay me what they can afford; on week days they pay me 18s. for a Hansom, and 16s. for a four-wheeler—on Sundays they pay 14s. for a four-wheeler, and 16s. for a Hansom—when I said that, I had no fixed arrangement on Sundays, I meant that they do not sign a book the same as they would do at a contract yard, nor do they sign one on other days—that is an understood price when they can get it, but I do not tie them to any price—I never get more than 18s. from them, they keep the
rest—the prisoner drove for me on Saturday the 12th, I am sure of that; he drove a four-wheel cab—he drives a Hansom in his turn—I do not know how much be gave me on the 12th, I do not know whether 14s. would be right, if his wife has put that down—I do not know whether she would pet down more than he paid me—I cannot tell you what cab he drove for me on the 11 th; if 16s. is put down, that would be correct for a four-wheel cab—I do not know what he drove on the 9th or 10th—18s. on the 18th would be for a Hansom—I have a perfect recollection what cab he drove on that Sunday—I know that because my mistress went into the country on the 12th, and came back on the Wednesday—she does not attend to the cabs for me, but that brought it to my mind who dressed it, I had the same trouble, but I cannot recollect so far back—the prisoner has driven for me four or five years on and off, and regularly since 26th March—I believe he was driving for a Mr. Foster before—the drivers do not call my brother-in-law, "Master's brother," they call him Jim—I do not know whether I told Morgan the policeman, that I could not remember who drove the cab on the 13th, probably I did—I did not recollect it at first, but when I considered that my wife was gone in the country I remembered it.
MR. ATKINSON. Q. Does your wife, when at home, take part in the business? A. She takes the money when I am out of the way—Joseph Walton is my horse keeper.
JOSEPH WALTON . I am servant to Mr. Higgins in his yard—it is part of my duty to start the cabs in the morning—I know the prisoner, he is a very quiet, peaceable man—I recollect Sunday, 13th July, my master had two Hansom's cabs, and it was my duty to start them, they were driven by James Finch and Joseph Woodland, my master's brother, George Higgins, drives one of the four-wheelers—be took his rest that day, and the prisoner drove for him—I started him, he brought the four-wheel cab home again between 5 and 6 o'clock, I changed the horse, and he took the cab away again—I did not take it in at night—I also changed Fineh's and Wood land's horses for them—I recollect the day on account of the mistress going into the country on that day, and she returned on the 16th.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you recollect who drove the Hansoms on the Sunday before? A. Woodland and Finch—the prisoner drove a four-wheeled cab—I cannot go so far back as the Sunday before that—my mistress was not in the country on the 6th, but I recollect it because I know Finch did not rest till the Tuesday that week—I do not know who drove them on the 20th; my mistress was at home then—Finch was to have rested on the Sunday, but he wanted to rest on the Monday, because he had two brothers going to sea, and he wanted to see them before they went away—he has no usual rest day—I have no books or entries of any sort—I did not hear my master give as a reason that the mistress was away, that I am aware of—I swear that I do not know that my master stated that as his reason—Finchs brothers were going to China—he had a rest day once a week, but on no particular day—the others have a particular day, and they arrange it between them—if one man wishes to have Sunday or Monday, he gets another man to drive for him—the only two Sundays I can tell you are the 13th and the 6th—on the 6th the prisoner drove a four-wheeler for Mark Higgins, the brother—there are four four-wheelers, and they were driven by Williams, George Higgins, Richard Rouse, and Callaghan—the 6th was not the same as the 13th, because George Higgins rested on the 13th—Finch and Woodland drove the Hansoms on the 6th in the same way as they did on the 13th, and Williams a four-wheeler, just the same—I was first asked about
this on the Wednesday, and I recollected it the moment I was spoken to, but I had a holiday that day, and was away at the Exhibition—I did not know that the prisoner was charged with having knocked a man's eye out when he was driving a Hansom's cab—I first heard that he was in a Hansom's cab next morning, when I went to work, and I directly remembered that he was in a four-wheeler—I recollected it because my mistress was in the country.
COURT. Q. Do you know on what day Finch went to see his brothers? A. On Monday, the 14th—he did not drive on Monday—Finch is Jim—the prisoner would drive for him if be was out—George Higgins took his holiday on the 13th, and not on Saturday, the 12th, I am quite sure—I am sure the prisoner did not charge for him on Saturday, 12 th—Richard Rowse took his holiday on the 11th.—I do not think anybody took a holiday on the 10th, but I am not certain whether Woodland rested or not—I am certain about 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th, but I cannot say about the 12th.
Sr. PIERRE BUTLER COOK. I am a solicitor, of Lincoln's-inn-fields—on 13th July I had occasion to send two letters by a cabman—I cannot swear to the prisoner, but I believe he is the man—I know that the letters were received—one was to the United Service Club, and the other to Norland-place, Notting-hill—I read the addresses to him, and wrote on the latter address, "Pay 4s. to cabman"—he was driving a four-wheeled cab at that time.
Cross-examined. Q. When did he call you? A. He called upon me, and said that he was charged with knocking a man's eye out, and asked me if I recollected giving him the letters to deliver that day—I gave him the letters in St Pancras-road—I was on horseback, and hailed him, and gave them to him—there was no money in them.
MR. ATKINSON. Q. Is he like the man? A. Yes; I should say he is—I believe him to be the same man—he came to me and said, "Do not you remember giving me two letters to deliver?"—I wrote a letter to Sir Robert Garden about it—I am quite sure it was a four-wheeler—I do not know any of Mr. Higgins' men.
JAMES FINCH . I am a cab driver, and work for Mr. Higgins—I have known the prisoner for the last four or five years, and never heard anything wrong of him—I believe him to be a quiet person from his conduct—on Sunday, 13th July, I drove a Hansom all day; it was my rest day, but I wished to have the Monday, at two of my brothers were going to sea, and I wished to have an hour with them on Monday night—there was an arrangement between me and George Higgins—I did not see the prisoner driving a cab that day—it was about I in the morning when I went home with the Hansom.
Cross-examined. Q. What vessel did your brothers go by? A. The Trigham, for Shanghaie, which left the East India Docks on 15th July—I have driven a Hansom for the last four years, and the prisoner drives it on the days that I rest.
COURT. Q. When was your rest day before? A. I cannot say exactly—it might be about a week—it would be the Sunday previous—I always rest on Sunday if none of the other men require that day.
JOSEPH WOODLAND . I am a cab driver for Mr. Higgins, and have been so for years—I have known the prisoner four years, and always found him very peaceable, quiet, and humane—I drove the other Hansom, No. 1,020—it is a dark chocolate colour—I drove it all day on Sunday, 13th July, and went home at a quarter to 11—1 am out early, and generally come home early—I did not see the prisoner that day.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you driving your Hansom on the Sunday before that? A. Yes; I never rest on Sunday—I bare been at work on Sunday during the whole of June and July—I have no book—I do not keep an entry of the money I bring home—we have no settled money did not pay in so much on the 13th at on a week-day, but 14s. or 15s.—I do not recollect the amount, nor on the 6th—I drive on week-days—I drove everyday in the week after the 13th, and also on the Sunday after I—cannot say whether I drove it the whole week after the 20th—I do not remember the day of the month—I was away a week—the week that the odd man was out I was away very poorly—I drove it the whole week after the 20th—I hesitated about it because I was reckoning up the days, and I have never rested on Sunday—it was only the day he was recognized on my cab—I was not trying to recollect the day he was recognized driving a Hansom's cab.
COURT. Q. You have sworn that you drove the cab every day in that week following the 20th? A. I drove on the 13th and I was away a week ill—I cannot remember what week that was.
MR. RIBTON. Q. And you have no means of finding out? A. No.
GEORGE HIGGINS . I am in the employ of my brother, William Higgins—on Sunday, 13th July, I took a rest—my brother-in-law, James Finch, wanted to rest on the Monday, and wished me to take the Sunday—the prisoner drove my cab that day—it is a four-wheel cab—I went to work on Monday and Finch rested that day. (looking at a book)
Cross-examined. Q. Show me that book; is there any entry here about Williams driving for you? A. No; I never put that because he always takes the regular turns when any of us want to lie still—this is my own book—it is not what I pay to my master—the days that I rest are in it—this 5s. entered is what I give to my mistress after I have done with my cab—it is not the amount I pay to Mr. Higgins—I keep no account of that—cabmen from the same establishment never change cabs—the cabs we go out with, we finish the day with—I was not at the yard on the 13th, and did not see the prisoner at all that day—I make these entries either night or morning—they are my wife's writing—she put down this, "13th, rested" on the morning of the 13th, I saw her write it
MR. ATKINSON. Q. I see the word "rested" in other parts; are those your days of rest? A. Yes; some entries are in ink and some in pencil
FREDERICK CALLAGHAN . I am a cabman in the employ of Mr. Higgins—I remember Sunday, 13th July, perfectly well—I returned home with my cab about half-past 12 o'clock, and, as I was just going out of the yard the prisoner drove in with his cab, George Higgins's four wheeler—I helped him to take his horse out—I was going away, and he said, "Stop a minute; I will walk with you home;" and we walked together as far as John-street—as we were coming into Parker's-road) I said, "It has just struck I;" and I pulled out my watch and said, "We are late."
Cross-examined. Q. Was this on 13th July? A. Yes; I drove on—6th July—I have driven for Higgins ever since May—I work every Sunday—I cannot say whether Williams was out—I was driving on the 20th, but cannot say whether Williams was out that day—on the Sunday before the 6th I was out, and I believe Williams was out—I should not like to take an oath to it—I know nothing about whether he was out on the 27th—my walking home with him makes me recollect this particular Sunday—I had walked home with him several nights before, but I do not take notice of the days of the month—I saw Williams driving a Hansom—he is our odd man
—the Hansom he generally drives has a cane-side—I have seen him drive the other—he drives one or the other about twice a week—he drives them in turn—I have seen him drive it on a Sunday, months ago—I was not spoken to about this matter before the prisoner was taken.
MR. ATKINSON. Q. Did you turn your attention to it to see whether your memory was right? A. Yes; I recollected that it was the rest day of George Higgins, and that, and my going home with the prisoner, strengthens my memory.
COURT. Q. Who drove the dark-coloured Hansom generally? A. Joseph Woodland—the number of it is 1,020 or 1,050—I rest every Saturday—Jim Finch, I believe, generally rests on Sunday, but on this occasion on the Monday; George generally rests on Monday—I do not know when Woodland rested.
Cross-examined. Q. When were you first asked about this? A. On 31st July—his wife came to me—I recollect that it was on the 17th, because I in suffering from gout at the time, and I was getting better when his wife came to me—I had an attack for about a month—it was in my feet—it was getting better on the 17th, and he asked me how my feet were—he afterwards came to me and asked me if I could recollect it, and I said, after a time, that I might be able—I recollected that the week before she came to me I cut his hair and whiskers—I did not recollect that before she spoke to me—the said that he was charged with assaulting a man and knocking his eye, last week—she came on Thursday, 31st July—she did not say "last week"—it was the week before she came that I cut his hair and whiskers—the week after I cut his hair and whiskers she came to me.
COURT. Q. The 17th was a full fortnight before she came on the 31st? A. Well it was on 17th July I cut his hair and whiskers—I fix on the 17th. because I am subject to the gout—I will swear I out his hair on the 17th—it is also a reason that it was in the week before his wife came.
Q. Will you tell me how you can possibly get the 17th July into the week before the 31st? A. It was at that time I cut his hair—I know it was on the 17th.
MR. RIBTON. Q. When did the attack of the gout commence? A. I cannot tell you—it was nearly gone when the wife called—I was able to get on my boots—I never had it before—it was getting better before I cut his hair, and it continued to get better till his wife came—I was very nearly well when she came—I was able to walk about—be comes occasionally to have his hair cut, but not regularly—I cut his hair, trimmed his whiskers, and sent him out respectable.
COURT. Q. How should you describe his whiskers as to size when you cut them? A. Rather bushy and long—I never saw this bill till this morning, but I heard that a reward was out—I did not hear that there was a description of the man.
GEORGE BATT . On Sunday, 15th July, T was drinking a glass of ale at the bar of the Star and Garter, Sloane-street, Chelsea—I have known Williams for twenty years—he is a quiet peaceable fellow, and of a humane disposition: 1 never knew anything different—he came to the bar while I was there—it was as near as possible about half-past 10—I conversed with him for a few minutes—we went out together—he had a four-wheel cab with him—I left him at nearly 11 o'clock.
Cross-examined. Q. When were you first spoken to about this? A. One
night last week—he formerly lodged in my mother's house—he told me that he was charged with committing an assault on the 13th, and asked me if I recollected the date—I am a lamplighter—I had not seen him for five or six years previous to that night—I have not seen him since that Sunday till last week—I live at Chelsea—I very seldom go to the Star and Garter—there is a cab-stand in Sloane-square, and when they stop, the cabmen go into the Star and Garter—I did not see the prisoner drive up, but I saw him drive away—he stayed with me ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—he laid that if I was going his way he would give me a ride, but I was not—he told me that it was said that he had been on a Hansom's cab on the 13th—(The hand-bill stated that the man was five feet seven inches high, twenty-five years of age, with brown hair, small whiskers, florid complexion, dresses is black clothes, and of a respectable appearance.)
COURT to GEORGE HIGGINS. Q. What it your general rest day? A. Monday.
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined One Week
PLEADED GUILTY .—He received a good character.— Confined Six Months
MR. ATKINSON conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS ANDREWS . I belong to Her Majesty's ship Supply, which was lying at Woolwich—on 25th July, I went to Westminster, and went into a public-house near the Horse Guards—I was sober—the prisoners were there, and Williams asked me if I would have a drop of ale—he was drinking out of a pot, and I supped out of it—Turner was with him—they asked me to take a walk; I said, "Yes," and went with them—I stood some run, and took, I think, a 6d. from my right-hand pocket, the only pocket a sailor has—I took a glass of the rum—we came out together, and Williams asked me if I would go homo with him to his house—I did so—there was only one chair there, with three legs to it, no curtains, a blind, and a broken-down bed—Williams said, "Well, my wife is out; I cannot get you any tea; will you have a drop of beer?"—I said, "Yes," and gave him some money, and he sent Turner down for some beer—Turner came back with it—I drank some, and Williams said, "Well, you look very dozy; will you have a nap?"—I said "Yes," and laid down in the bed and fell off to sleep—I I afterwards awoke in a great fright, and found Williams kneeling on my chest, and Turner at my pocket with his hands—I asked him what he meant and he said, "I mean to rob you"—I felt his hand on my pocket, and he got my money out—I tried to prevent him, and he made motions to the other man—I had a gold ring on my finger, and I am very sorry that I have not got it on to-day—I tried to prevent their taking it, and Turner used a very bad expression, and said, "If you do not let me have it I will choke you"—I had a watch and a chain round my neck—they broke the
chain trying to get it off—they left me penniless; I had not a halfpenny to bless myself with, and if it had not been for a policeman I should have had to walk the streets all night—I had a monkey jacket there—Williams took that and put it on—he said, "You are very hot"—I said, "I am not hot; I is used to foreign countries "—he said, "Yes you are; you are sweating; take it off," and when I took it off he put it on—be afterwards said, "Now let us perform"—Turner then knocked me down, and they ran away, leaving me on the broad of my back stunned by the blow—I got up, and gave information to the police, who searched the place, and found my cap and waistcoat wrapped up in a rag under the bed—my cap had the vessel's name on it—I afterwards met the prisoners when I was with a policeman, and Williams threw away my jacket—the policeman picked it up and took it to the station, but the prisoner escaped then.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. (For Turner). Q. How many days had you been ashore? A. I only came ashore that morning—I was paid the previous afternoon, but was not paid off, or I should have had a larger sum—I was living on board the ship—I met the prisoners between 4 and 5 o'clock—I had been at Woolwich in the early part of the day, enjoying myself at a friend's house, and at a public-house, too—I had nothing more than a drop of ale—I dined with them there, and started for London between land 2—I came up alone—I met some Newcastle men, where I was born and brought up—they asked me to go to their house, but I said that I was going to the Exhibition—I went and had a glass of ale with them, but they did not treat me as these rogues did—I met nobody else—my money was loose in my pocket, and I felt it there when I took out the 6d. to pay for the rum—they succeeded in getting my ring off, and nearly broke my finger into the bargain—Williams was the head and chief of it—he made the other prisoner do what he did.
WILLIAM BLOOMFIELD (Policeman, A 248). On 25th July, I was on duty in Victoria-street, and saw the prosecutor with the prisoners, who I knew before—Williams was wearing the sailor's cap, and the sailor had on Williams' hat—they walked through Orchard-street, and from there into No. 4, Union-court—ten minutes afterwards Turner came out, fetched a pot of beer, and went in again—the prosecutor afterwards came out and spoke to me—his throat had been grasped—he had been wounded on his face, and his eyes were starting out like a man who had been strangled—I got a candle, and accompanied him to No, 4, into the back attic—the room was in great confusion; a chair, table, and bedstead were broken, at if there had been a severe scuffle—I found this jacket under the bed, wrapped up in an old shirt—I sent another constable there, and went and found the prisoners in conversation, at the corner of Dartmouth-street—I took Turner, and told him I wanted him on suspicion for robbing a sailor—he laughed, and resisted very much, but another constable came up—Williams said, "I they use any violence to my companion, before they reach the station, blood shall be split"—the prosecutor was penniless: I spent 2s. for his night's lodging, and paid for his breakfast, and when he came up again, I supplied him with some more money.
JOHN BOULES (Policeman, B 40). I tool Williams at the corner of Dartmouth-street, and told him the charge—he said that we were all wrong, and that blood should be spilt if there was any violence used in taking him to the station-house.
as we went along Strutton-ground I saw Williams—when ho saw me and the sailor together, he darted off, and dropped this coat (produced).
TURNER— GUILTY .— Six Years Penal Servitude.
WILLIAMS— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court, in February, 1359, in the name of Joseph Harrigas of burglary, after a former conviction; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Fifteen Years Penal Servitude.
THE COURT considered that the policeman Bloomfield behaved with great propriety, and that his conduct ought to be noticed.
PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE, for the prosecution, stated that although six letters had been sent to the Messrs. Rothschild demanding money under threats of assassination the prosecutors did not believe that the prisoner intended to carry out the threats.
Five Years' Penal Servitude.
813. JAMES HERLEY (15) , Feloniously haying in his possession 19 pieces of paper impressed with the name of the Union Bank of Scotland; also stealing 19 pieces of paper, commonly called blank cheques, the property of Joshua Butters Bacon and others, his masters; to both which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .
She received a good character. Recommended to mercy by the prosecutrix.
Confined Six Months.
age="na"> PLEADED GUITY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, August 19th, 1862.
PRESENT—Sir JOHN MUSGROVE, Bart Ald; Mr. Ald. GIBBON; and
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Confined Two Years.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Confined Two Years.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Two Years
PLEADED GUILTY .**—MR. BRANNAN stated that the prisoner had been under observation for a long time, as one of the most expert coiners in the Metropolis.
Fifteen Years Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN DENTRY (Policeman, E 152). On 11th July, about half-past 8 o'clock in the evening, I was on duty in Torrington-Square, and saw the prisoners standing together, drinking out of a bottle—Hydes emptied it and had to hold it up in order to do so—he then gave it to Williams, with something else, which he took from his pocket; I could not see what, I was not efficiently close—Williams had on this billycock hat (produced), and Hydes an ordinary cap, with a peak—Williams then went to the Earl St. Vincent public-house, in Little Torrington-street, fifty or sixty yards off—the other remained in Torrington-square—I followed Williams to the Earl St. Vincent and saw him come out—I went in and saw the barmaid, Eliza Thomasson, give the landlord a florin—I saw the landlord try it and mark it, and he afterwards gave it to me at the police-station—this (produced) is it—I then went out and saw the prisoners again walking together in Torrington-square—Williams still had the billycock, and Hydes the cap, and then I saw them change them—they went down the square, and stood with their backs against the enclosure of the square, the gardens—they both had their hands behind them—I went up to them and asked Williams how he came to leave the rum, and the bottle, and the two shilling-piece at the Earl St Vincent public-house—he said that I had made a mistake, it was not him—Hydes said, "I am sure it is not us, we have only just come up from the country, and I asked him for a lucifer"—I suppose he meant Williams—I said, "It is no good telling me that, for I saw you, Williams, go into the Earl St. Vincent public-house, and at that time you had that billycock on that Hydes has on now; there you tendered a counterfeit florin in payment for a half quartern of rum, which you called for, and you went away and gave no explanation about it, what was the cause of that?"—Williams said, "Because to lady said it was a bad one"—I took them both back to the Earl St Vincent, and the barmaid identified Williams as the man who had given her the two shilling-piece—another constable came up, and we took them both to She police-station and searched them—on Williams I found three halfpence and a comb; on Hydes I found 2s. 6d. and a threepenny bit in silver, and four-pence in coppers, good money—after they were locked up, I went with Policeman, E 155, and pointed out the place to him in Torringten-square
where I had seen the prisoners standing against the rails—I gave him directions to look there the next morning—next morning I went with him again to the same spot, and he pointed out a spot to me as the place where he had found the two shilling-piece—that was just the place where I had seen the prisoners standing the night previous—at the police-station the prisoners denied all knowledge of each other.
Hyde. What he says about my changing hats with this man is false.
ELIZA THOMASSON . I am barmaid at the Earl St. Vincent public-house, in Little Torrington-street—on 11th July list I was serving in the bar, and saw Williams come in—he asked for half a quartern of rum in a bottle—I served him, and put it into the bottle—it came to threepence—he gave me a counterfeit two shilling-piece—I suspected that it was bad, put it into the detector, and bent it—I told him it was bad—he muttered something to himself and went away—I could not understand what he said—he left the bottle and rum and the money—I banded the counterfeit florin to Mr. Mursell, my employer—the two prisoners were soon afterwards brought back—I recognise Williams as the one who had been there before.
ALBERT MURSELL . I am one of the masters of the last witness—on the evening of 11th July, my barmaid, Elizabeth Thomasson, gave me a bad florin—the prisoner Williams was at that time leaving the house—I marked the florin, and afterwards gave it to Dentry—this is it.
HENRY HOWES (Policeman, E 155). I assisted to take the prisoners in custody on 11th July—Dentry pointed out the place where they had stood against the rails—I was on duty there that night till 10 o'clock next morning—I went to that spot about a quarter-past 6, searched inside the railings, and found this bad two shilling-piece (produced)—it was a yard and half inside the rails—it was done up in a thin piece of paper.
GUILTY of uttering. — Confined Twelve Months each
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES CORNWALL . I am the manager of the Shovel public-house, New-road, St. George's—on Friday afternoon, 11th July, the prisoner came for a glass of half-and-half which came to three halfpence—I gave it her, and she gave me a sixpence—I gave her change, and placed the sixpence underneath the tap by itself, not in the till—a few minutes afterwards 1 took it up and discovered that it was bad—I then went out with the sixpence in my hand, in search of the prisoner, and found her in Grove-street, and I gave her in custody, with the sixpence—this (produced) is it
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. Where did you go after you had put the sixpence under die tap? A. I had been serving eight sailors that came in at the same time as the prisoner, and while I was serving the first one or two of them the prisoner kept calling for a glass of half-and-half, out load—after putting the sixpence under the tap 1 finished serving the sailors—I did not observe that the prisoner was drunk—I did not take particular notice—she was not talking to the sailors at all—she was drinking by herself when she got the half-and-half, and then went out immediately—there was in disturbance in the place at all—there were about ten persons there—I should say there were eight sailors in the same box as the prisoner, and two in another box—they were not far apart.
—was drunk then—she could walk—I received the sixpence from Cornwall—I took the prisoner to the station—on the way there she tried to put her band into her pocket several times, and I prevented her—when she got to the station, I put my hand in that pocket, and found seven counterfeit six-pences wrapped up mixed together in one piece of paper in this bag, along with the coppers—I also found these two bent sixpences (produced) and 3s. 5 3/4 d. in good money on her—the female searcher seached her in the cell
Cross-examined. Q. Have you got the sixpences here? A. Yet—I have not brought the piece of paper they were wrapped in—it was destroyed; I did Dot think it was necessary to bring it—some of the sixpences are unfinished—they are not in a fit state to pass—I put that, cross on one of them; it is one of the seven—I was at the police-office—the prisoner was very much intoxicated and did not know what she was about.
ELIZABETH COZIER . I am the wife of a constable in the H division, and am female searcher at Leman-street police-station—on the evening in question I searched the prisoner in her cell, and found, in the bosom of her dress, this little bag, or purse, and 2s. 1d. in good money—I gave this bad sixpence, which I found, to the policeman.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . The sixpence uttered to Cornwall is bad—the sixpence in the purse is bad, and from the same mould—here are nine sixpences; the two bent ones are bad, but they are so knocked about that I cannot say anything about the mould—there are seven perfect ones; two in a finished state; the others are not quite finished; those two are from the same mould as the two first—the others are not finished.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follow:"I was very much intoxicated at the time; I have not the least idea how it came into my possession."
She was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court, in August, 1857, of unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin, and confined four months; to which she PLEADED GUILTY.**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN WARMAN . I live with my father, at 37, Charles-street St. George's—he is a cowkeeper, and sells milk—on Monday evening, 30th June, the prisoner came and asked for a halfpenny-worth of milk—I gave it to her, and she gave me a shilling—I gave her 11 1/2 d. change, and put the shilling in the till, where there was no other silver—my father had taken it all out—about ten minutes afterwards my father came into the shop, and I saw him take that shilling out of the till—he said it was a bad one, and put it on the mantel-piece with two others—I am quite sure the prisoner is the woman—I had seen her several times before.
Prisoner. I was never in the shop but once in my life. Witness. You used to come sometimes of a morning and afternoon, and sometimes your little boy came.
WILLIAM WARMAN . I am the father of the last witness, and keep this shop—I remember coming and looking into the till in this evening, and finding a shilling there—there was no other money there—I had just taken it all out—I said, "This is another counterfeit one "—I had taken four previously—my son said, "Father, I know the woman that I took that of; she is a little woman with a curious nose"—I told him whenever she came again with another shilling to bring it to me to give change—I bent this shilling with my fingers; it bent very easily—I knew it was bad
as soon as I saw it—I put it with two others that I had taken a day or two previous, in a vase on the mantel-shelf—I afterwards gave it to the constable, with two others—I would not swear which is the one, but it is one of those three.
Prisoner. I do not know the prosecutor; I never saw him in my life.
COURT. Q. Have you ever seen the prisoner before? A. Yes; in my shop several times—she has been to all the houses in the neighbourhood—I do not know that I have served her; I have so many children, and they serve
HENRY WARMAN . I am a son of the last witness, and occasionally serve in his shop—on Monday afternoon, 7th July, the prisoner came for a half a penny-worth of milk—I gave it to her—she put down a bad shilling—I saw it was bad directly, and put it between my teeth—I told her it was bad, and she asked me to give it back to her—I said, "No"—she gave me a good one, and I went and got change for it, and gave her 11 1/2 d.—she the left the shop, and I followed her about for a couple of hours, and lost her I had the shilling in my mouth all that time—I marked it with my teeth, and put it on the mantel-shelf when I got home, and gave it to my father when he came home at night—this is the shilling.
COURT. Q. Did she speak to you when you followed her? A. Yes—she asked me why I was following her—I told her I wanted to know where she lived—she dodged roe about and went into several houses, and found I would not leave her—I went with her to 21, Devonshire-street, and that was not where she lived—when she got into Commercial-road she popped away somewhere.
EDWARD DILLON (Police-sergeant, K 19). In consequence of information, I took the prisoner on the morning of 8th Jury, at 62, Upper Cardington-street, St. George's-in-the-East—I told her I believed she was the woman that had passed two bad shillings at the shop of Mr. Warman, charles-street—she said, "No; I am not"—I called Henry Warman indoors, and he said, "Yes; that is the woman that gave me the bad shilling yesterday"—she said, "Yes; I was at your shop yesterday for a ha'porth of milk"—I searched the room, and found, between the bed and the mattrass, wrapped up in a clean piece of paper, a bad shilling—it was a very good one till I bent it—I said, "Here is a bad shilling"—she said, "Is it a bad shilling?"—I said, "Yes "—she made no answer—I have not the paper here—there was about 6s. 8d. in money, in a purse, in her pocket—she was also identified by three shopkeepers as having given them bad shillings, but they would not take the trouble to prosecute her.
Prisoner. He said to the boy, "Is this the person that came to your shop yesterday 9 "—I said, "Yes; I think it is"—the constable said, "Hold your head up;" and I said, "Yes; I was the person that came there"—I can state where I got that money from, every farthing that I had in my possession. Witness. I went up stairs, and she kept me some time before she opened the door, and then she had nothing on but her under clothing—I called the boy up, and he said, "That is the woman that passed the two bad shillings to me yesterday."
Prisoner's Defence. I get my living by selling clothes in Petticoat-lane; I had sold four pairs of trousers for 9s., and took the money there; I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY .— Confined Two Years.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH TOBIN . My mother keeps the Black Swan, Ryder's-court—I manage the business—about a month before 9th July, I remember the prisoner coming there and asking for three pennyworth of rum—I gave it to her, and she put down a florin—I gave her change, and she went away—I put the florin in the till where there was no other money—we have a servant, named Barbara Whiting—soon after the prisoner left I gave the florin to her—she went out with it, and quickly returned—I observed then that the florin was bad and bent, and put it away in the table-drawer, seperate from anything else, and afterwards gave it to the policeman—this is it (produced)—on 9th July, the prisoner came again, asked for a pint of six ale, and tendered me a bad florin—I put it underneath my teeth—previous to her asking for the ale, she asked me if a man with a straw hat had been in—I said, "No "—she then went away, and came back about five minutes afterwards, and ordered the pint of ale—when she gave me the florin, I said, "This is the second time you have passed one, and now you have tried another; I shall give you in charge;" and I laid my hand on her shoulder over the bar—she then began to cry, and said it had been given to her by some man she had been with—I sent for a constable, and gave the second florin to him.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. Are you sure it was a month before the 9th of July, the first time? A. About a month—I had not been six weeks in England previous to that—it was within six weeks—there was no money at all in the till—it was early in the morning, between 9 and 10; soon after we opened—in 1853 I was managing another public-house for my mother; then I went to sea; then I came home and managed this public-house, and went away again—I took a bed shilling last week, and another on Sunday—I do not think I took any before this happened—I did not find it out if I did.
BARBARA WHITING . I am servant to Mrs. Tobin—I remember Mr. Joseph Tobin giving me a florin—I went with it for some meat to the market, and the woman who served me detected that it was bad—she called her husband to look at it—I did not lose sight of it—I brought it back and give it to Mr. Tobin; that was about 9th or 10th June.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you went to the market, bow soon after Mr. Tobin gave it you? A. Immediately—I had no more money with me—the woman at the market showed the florin to her husband in my presance—I am quite certain I never lost sight of it.
JOHN PEACOCK (Policeman, C 99). On 9th July, the prisoner was given into my custody—I at the same time received from Mr. Tobin these two florius, which I produce—the prisoner said she did not know it was bad; she had just received four florins from a gentleman—I took from her hand a pone containing two florins, two shillings, and a sixpence, good money—she told me she had no home.
Cross-examined. Q. Did she say anything more? A. No, nothing more.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. H. GIFFARD, for the Prosecution, dated that the prisoner had been respited from last session (see page 299). As the present charge was then being investigated, there were also other charges brought by hotel keepers and others, who recognized him as having been at their houses at different times.
Six Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, August 20th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE WILLIAMS; Mr. Ald. COPELAND, M.P.; Mr. Ald.
HALE; Mr. Ald. GIBBONS; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR, Esq.
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
MESSRS. CLERK and METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD COPPING . I am a clerk in the Maidstone Post-office—I issued this post-office order for 5l. on 24th July last; it is payable at the chief office in London—it was issued to Mr. J. Grundy of Maidstone; he did not come himself to obtain it, it was issued on his behalf—I have the entry of it here—it is not in my writing, but this entry on the sheet is mine, "issued to J. Grundy;" it is payable to Simpkin and Co.—I forwarded this letter of advice to the head office—letters posted at Maidstone between 9 and 10 in the morning, would go by the 11.45 dispatch—I think I issued the order at a quarter-past 9.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. What portion of the papers produced is in your handwriting? A. The entry on the sheet and the money-order; this is the order I gave to the person representing Mr. Grundy.
MR. CLERK. Q. Is there a number on the post-office order? A. Yes, and a corresponding number on the letter of advice.
JOHN GRUNDY . I am a bookseller at Maidstone—I deal with Messrs. Simpkin and Marshall, in London—on the 24th July, I had occasion to make a remittance to them of 5l.—I had a boy named Henry Wise in my service at that time; he is not with me now—on 24th July, I sent him with this paper, or one similar to it, to the Post-office to get a money order; this is my writing—the boy brought me back an order for 5l.; this bears the game date—I inclosed that order in a letter addressed to Messrs. Simpkin and Marshall, Stationer's-hall-court; the letter was signed with my ordinary signature—this piece of paper (produced) bears my signature; I cannot say it was part of that letter, it is part of a letter written by me—I put the order and letter into an envelope and fastened it, and gave it to Wise to post between 9 and 10 in the morning of the 24th.
Cross-examined. Q. Is the boy Wise here? A. Not that I am aware of.
stationers and booksellers, in Stationer's-hall-court—the signature to this post-office order is not mine or that of any member of the firm—about 24th July last, we were expecting a remittance from Mr. Grundy of Maidstone—no letter came on that day—this order never reached us—I know nothing of the prisoner or his brother.
Cross-examined. Q. You do not receive the letters yourself I suppose? A. Sometimes I do—I did not do so on the morning of the 24th or 25th—I do not myself know what letters arrived on those mornings; my brother does; be is not here—there are five partners; I believe they were all there on the 24th and 25th—each partner has authority to sign for the firm—we have a great many clerks—the letters are counted by my brother and opened by several clerks—none of the clerks have authority to sign—none of them are here.
GEORGE LORKING ROSE. I am a paying clerk in the money-order department of the General Post-office—on the morning of 25th July, I found this letter of advice in the office purporting to come from Maidstone; it bears the post-mark of the 24th—it authorises the payment of 5l. to Simpkin and Co., from J. Grundy—about 12 o'clock in the day, a lad, about eighteen, called with this order; it was then signed as it is now, "Simpkin, Marshall, and Co."—I asked the lad whether he brought it from Messrs. Simpkin—he said, "Yes"—I asked whether he had the letter that it came in—he said he had not the letter, but he had the piece with the name of the writer upon it, which he gave me—this (produced) is it—I went and spoke to the comptroller, and the boy was taken to the solicitor's office.
EDWARD HUGHES . I am a fishmonger, living at 12, St Mary-at-hill—the prisoner is my brother—I presented this poet-office order for payment on thee morning of 26th July—I got it from my brother; he gave it me in Billingsgate-market; he gave me this piece of paper at the same time, about half-past 11 o'clock on thee 25th—at the time he gave me the order it was signed as it is now—he merely told me to take it up to the money-order office—he did not tell me what to do with it; I should have taken the money back to him—it was not given in payment to me.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you can say that is not your brother's handwriting? A. I don't know my brother's handwriting, I seldom or ever saw him write; I have seen him write, but some time ago—he works for Mr. Richardson, in Billingsgate-market, and I also—my brother was working there the whole of the day of the 24th, until half-past 4 in the afternoon—I had never got a post-office order from him before.
HENRY RUMROLD . I am a constable attached to the post-office—on 25th July I received instructions to go to Billingsgate in search of the prisoner—I found him at work at Mr. Richardson's, just before 1 o'clock—I asked him if he had sent his brother to the money-order office that morning with a post-office order—he said "yes, I did"—I told him his brother was stopped in tendering the order at the office, and he must go with me to the post-office—on the way, he said, "I must have been flat to have sent the order, as I was sure it would be stopped, as I picked it up at the corner of Botolph-lane, Thames-street, about twenty minutes before 9 that morning "—at the post-office he was shown the money-order and asked if he knew any thing at all about thee signature—he said, yes, he done it himself and he again
said he picked up the order at the corner of Botolph-lane, Thames-street saw this small piece of paper at the post-office—the prisoner said he had sent that, so as his brother should not forget the name; he said he tore it off part of the paper that was round the order—he said he had torn up the remainder of the paper and thrown it a way.
Cross-examined. Q. Who pot these questions to him? A. The solicitor, it was in the private office—I did not take a note of them—Mr. Rose and Mr. Miles were present—what he said was, that he done it himself.
WILLAM HENRY MILES (re-examined). I was at the solicitor's office when the prisoner was brought there—Rumbold said, in his presence, that had taken the prisoner to Billingsgate, and that in coming along he said, what a flat he was, because he might have been sure that the order would not be paid; and he said that it was his own writing, the signature—this was what Rumbold said had passed between himself and the prisoner—the order was shown to the prisoner, and he said it was his own writing; I heard him say so—I am not quite sure whether Rumbold said he had told him in coming along that he had signed it himself, but I know he said so in the room; he said he had signed it himself—I do not recollect his exact words; I believe he said he had signed it himself; he did not say he had sent it himself—Mr. Rose was in the room, I believe he beard what passed.
GEORGE LORKING ROSE (re-examined). I was in the solicitor's office—the prisoner first said that he had found the order, be was asked whether it was found signed or not—be said, "No "—Mr. Peacock then asked him how the signature got on the order, and he said, "I signed it myself"—he did not say it was his own handwriting; I am quite pure of that, the words were "I signed it"—(The order was here read, it was signed "Simpkin, Marshall, and Co)."
JOHN GRUNDY (re-examined). In the letter of advice, the firm is styled Simpkin and Co, that was also the name on the written paper that I sent by the boy, there was no name of the firm in the letter, only outside it—it was addressed to Simpkin, Marshall, and Co.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of uttering. Recommended to mercy by the Jury.
Confined Eight Months
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution, and M. TINDAL ATKINSON the
GUILTY of the attempt — Confined One Year
In this case, upon the evidence of Dr. Forbes Winslow, and Mr. John Row-land Gibson, surgeon of Newgate, the Jury found the prisoner of unsound mind, and not in fit state to plead to the indictment Ordered to be detained until her Majesty's pleasure be Known.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
6th June, I fastened up the premises about 11 o'clock—I went round and ascertained that they were all properly secured—I slept in the butler's pantry in the basement—I was awoke about 2 o'clock by hearing a noise in the kitchen—I went to the kitchen and heard a man's voice say, "It is only me, don't lock me in;" but I did lock him in—I then went up and rang the alarum bell—on going down again to the kitchen I found a man coming through the kitchen door—the post of the door was broken where the bolt of the lock goes in; he had broken his way out by forcing the door post—I struck him in the face with my fist—he followed up and worked his way to the pantry at the end of the passage—we fought in the pantry with no weapons—he was more powerful than I and threw me on the table—after that we had a tustle and he threw me on the floor—he thea said, "If you don't give up the property I have a knife as sharp as a razor, and I will cut your throat "—he produced a knife, I saw it, and I then got a small poker in the pantry and struck him—it was in the dark, and I can't say positively where I struck him; it was on the face or head; I did my best—we got to the pantry door at the foot of the kitchen stairs, the two maidservants came down with a light—they went to give an alarm, and he followed them up stairs—I distinctly saw a clasp-knife in hand at he went up stairs—they opened the street door and called murder and police! and he took the opportunity to run out, and I lost sight of him—to the best of my recollection the servants only had one light on the stairs—I had no opportunity of seeing the man's face when the light was brought—there was a very small lamp which he lighted himself—I saw his face in the first instance, till we got fighting, but not when the maid servants had the light, his back was towards me—the lamp that he lighted is a lamp that is used in the kitchen, the man must have lighted it, it was not usually lighted at that time—that enabled me to see his face in the first instance, as he came out of the door and broke his way from the kitchen to the passage; that was the only time I had an opportunity of sating his face—I did see it by the light of that lamp, and I had a small light which I had lighted in my pantry, so that between the two lights I had a glimpse of him; I saw his face—to the best of my belief the prisoner is the man; I have no doubt; I say so from his voice—he is the same sized man, and the same voice—I heard his voice at the Marylebone police-court—the similarity of voice struck me as well as the similarity of appearance—I believe that he is the man.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. What was the date at which you heard his voice at the police-court? A. I can't say, there were two remands—I was there when a man named Abraham Law was charged with the same burglary—he was taken in custody in the neighbourhood—I think it was two or three weeks after Law had been discharged that I went to the police-court again and saw the prisoner in custody—Law was brought in in a kind of confusion with his face bleeding, and I said he was a big man—he might have been more corpulent than the prisoner—I heard Law speak at the police-court; his voice was not like the voice of the man—I said be was not the man—they asked me if. I would swear he was the man or was not, and I said neither—I could not swear he was not the man in the position I was in that night, I had been knocked about a good deal, and ill-used—I said I would not swear he was not the man—that was the next day after the burgulary—I did not hear Law's voice—I was wrong in saying that I did, I thought you meant this man's voice—at the time the female servants came down stairs the man and I were fighting at the foot
of the stairs—I don't think I gave him any blows after he turned to follow the maids up stain—I had the poker in my hand, but I don't think I used it—I don't know which of the servants had the candle, they were together—they did not turn round immediately, they faced the man, and said "What is the matter, whatever is it"—I said, "There are thieves in the house"—and the man said, "I am not a regular burglar, but this man has insulted me, and will not let me go now "—the women then turned round, and ran up stairs screaming, taking the candle with them—I don't know whether the small light in the kitchen had been put out before the servants came down, I think it most have been—my lamp was alight on the pantry table—I did not put it out at all, it was knocked out by the man, perhaps ten minutes before the women came down—I think the man put out the lamp in the kitchen, or it might have gone out of itself; it had not been used for a week or two—I have said that had I met this man in the street, I should have hesitated to give him in custody; I should have looked at him fancying he was the man; but I might have had a scruple about giving him into custody—that was the only doubt I had.
MR. METCALFE. Q. The other man who was taken into custody you say you art quite sure was not the man? A. Quite positive—I am certain of it now—at the time I had my eyes blacked and face knocked about so that I could hardly see, and I was agitated from being so knocked about.
FANNY HUSSEY . I am cook at 32, Upper Harley-street—on the night of 6th, or early in the morning of the 7th June, I was awoke by the ringing of the alarm bell about 2 o'clock—I went down stairs with the housemaid—I had a lighted candle in my hand—I went down nearly to the foot of the kitchen stain, and asked what was the matter—I saw a man fighting with the butler—I had au opportunity of seeing the face of that man—I saw him very distinctly—my candle threw a light upon him—it was the prisoner—I am quite sure of him—the housemaid was behind me.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you carry the candle? A. Yes, and the house-maid also had a candle—the candles were not put out at all—I went down the stairs rapidly, and returned as rapidly, and the man followed me close to the front door—he passed me as I stood on the door-step, and rushed out—when I got to the bottom of the stairs, I did not turn round immediately I saw a strange man—I came from the top of the house—I went nearly to that bottom of the kitchen stairs—I asked what was the matter—the butler said them were thieves in the house, and then I turned and ran upstairs, and the man after me—I was just getting the door open to call for a policeman, when the man ran past me—my candle was then on the hall-table—the housemaid had the other candle in her hand—she was a little way up the front staircase—her candle was alight—she did not come to the door till afterwards—she was in the hall—I saw the man's face distinctly in the passage, and when I got to the door I saw his face again—I saw his face twice—I could not be certain whether his face was covered with blood—it had blood on it, a good deal—I heard him speak—he said ho was not a thief, that this man was insulting him and would not let him go—I went to the Marylebone police-court next day, and saw a man named Law, who was taken by mistake, his face was bruised and bleeding—I did not say that I had seen him before—I did not swear to him did not say I thought he was the man—I said he was about the size of the man, but I am quite positive he was not the man—I said so at the police-court—I heard a policeman give evidence that Law had been seen drunk that morning—that was before I said I was sure he was not the man—I was examined before that policeman—I could not say whether it was before or
after the policeman said that, that I mid he was about the size of the man—I first saw Law in the front hall before the examination took place—I then I did not know whether he was the man or not—I did not say I thought be was the man—I said he was the size of the man, but I could not swear to him—it was a long time afterwards that I saw the prisoner in custody—I think it was the last Friday in July—he was shown to me with six or seven men—I believe some of them were policemen—they had not policemen's clothes on.
MR. METCALFE. Q. I understand you to say that you are quite sure this is the man? A. Yes; I am quite sure—the cupboards had been turned out and ransacked thoroughly—a hamper had been taken out and put back again.
COURT. Q. When you went to the police-court did you know you were Long to see a person that was charged with this burglary? A. Yes; I went to pick him out from the six or seven; and I did pick him out.
ELIZABETH EDMONDS . I am housemaid at 32, Upper Harley-street—I heard the alarm-bell on the night in question, and went down stairs with the look—I had a lighted candle and the cook had another—we went through the hall and three or four steps down the kitchen stairs—I saw the butler at the bottom of the kitchen stairs fighting with a man—the man's face was turned towards me—the prisoner is the man—I feel quite positive—I could see his face by the light of my candle—I saw a clasp-knife in his hand—I heard him say to the butler, if he did not give up the property he would cut his throat—the cook and I then went up stairs and the man ran up behind us—the cook opened the front door, and he escaped out of it—I ran up three or four steps from the hall when he passed—I had an opportunity of seeing him as he passed out—I had my candle still alight—he was a life more than a yard from me when he went out—he had no hat or cap on—I next saw the prisoner at the Marylebone police-court—that was some time afterwards—he was placed amongst several others, and I identified him—I could not be positive then that he was the man—I did not identify him then—I imagined that he was the man—it appeared to me that he was the man by his size—I did not hear his voice at the police-court.
Cross-examined. Q. Which was in front when you went down stairs; you the cook? A. The cook—I saw the man's face by the light of my candle—I held it up as I went down—I heard him say, "I am not a thief"—the look put her candle on the hall-table, and went and opened the street-door to call police, and then I saw the man pass—I went and rang the call-bell, and then instantly turned and looked at him—I went to the police-court next morning and saw Law there—he was brought into the front hall—I—I did not say that he was the man or like him—I said he was not the man—I told the Magistrate so—I went to the police-court three times after the prisoner was in custody—it might be seven or eight weeks after the occurence—I really don't know—I was told I was going to see some one who was charged with this burglary—there were five or seven persons—I did not identify him, but I said I thought he was the same sort of looking an—I am sure of him now, by his height and site, and by the blows on is nose—he had several blows on his nose from the poker—I saw that when saw him with the six or seven others—I saw him by gas-light.
JURY. Q. Did you hear the man say, "If you don't give up the property will cut your throat? A. Yes; as I was coming down the kitchen stairs.
JOHN BUCK (Policeman, D 255). I was on duty in the Marylebone-road about 2 o'clock on the night of 6th, or morning of 7th June, and saw a man running without hat or cap—he was coming in a, direction from Harley-street—on seeing me he stopped short, beckoned to me, and called on me to
make haste as there was murder in Harley-street—he, them went in the direction of Harley-street, in front of me, till he got to the corner of Harley street—he then turned up Harley-street and disappeared, and I saw no mon of him—in his height and figure that man greatly resembled the prisoner.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you tell this to any of your superior officers. A. I told the sergeant on the section, and the Inspector in the morning—I told them at the time that I could not describe the man's features, but in height and figure he was a large man—that was all the description I could give of him—they took no memorandum of that—they said it was no use unless I could describe his features or how he was dressed.
WILLAM HENDRY (police-sergeant, D 35). On the morning of 7th June. I was on duty in Weymouth-street about a quarter-past 2, and heard of police from parley-street,—I saw the, butler, and went in and looked at the house—in the kitchen I found this screw-driver and chisel and this—in the hutler's pantry I found this cap—the butler's pantry is right at the bottom of the kitchen stairs—the plate is kept in the pantry—I saw it—I found marks, of footsteps in the garden, up to the, library window, which is barred with iron—somebody must have climed up that way, because I could see scratches and traces of footmarks on the leads—there is then a large skylight with a ventilator, that ventilator had been removed by form, and there was an aperture there sufficient for a, man to have got through—that would have brought him into the kitchen—the kitchen door was broken open from, the inside—the rope, would enable a parson to drop from the sky light into the kitchen—the house, is at the corner of Upper Harley-street—it lies back a, little way—this, chisel is, partly broken—I saw some matches lying about—I saw two that, had been lighted.
WILLIAM WOODER . I have charge of a, lodging-house under the Metropolitan Association at 36, Old Compton-street, Soho—the prisoner came there on 7th May, stopped a week, and went away, came again on the 15th, and stopped three weeks—I am speaking from our books; they are not here—I recollect, the prisoner being there—I speak from the books, and from recollection also—the last day I saw him was, I think, either the 4th or 5th of June—he did not return after that time—he had no marks on, his nose at that time—my attention was called at the police-court to the marks now on his nose—he had no such marks as those—he wore a cap—it was something of such a cap as this produced, but I would not swear it was this.
Cross-examined. Q. Is that an ordinary cap, such, as men who lodge at your place are in the habit of wearing? A. Some wear hats, and some caps; all I can say is that the prisoner, wore a cap something resembling this—I know he was not lodging at our, place, after 5th June, because the room was let to another party—I have entries in my books to that effect—the payment that I received from the prisoner was on. 29th, May—that would take him up to 5th. June—the rent was paid in, advance—he gave the name of William Atkins—if he had remained a day; over 5th June I should have had; another week's rent—I can't say how often I saw him while he was lodging with me—I should be very much, surprised to hear that the injury to his nose is of six years' sending—there was no injury that was visible—when I saw him at the, police-court he had suffered, his beard to grow, and he was very much altered; in, appearance; but, then was no mistaking him when be was clean shaved.
COURT. Q. When do you recollect to have seen him last before this matter? A. Either the 4th or 5th June—I am pretty positive it was either the 4th or 5th that he left—I am sure it was one or the other—I did not speak to him—I don't think I ever spoke to him but once, and that was
when he came in particularly late one night—there were a good many coarse females calling upon him.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Did a person of the name of Grover come there? A. They did not give their names—I should say the distance from Compton-street to Harley-street was two miles, but I do not know exactly.
JAMES HOWE . I am postmaster of Bingold West, near Colchester—the prisoner's father and mother live there—I know the prisoner—he came down to his father's house in June—it was in the former part of June, the Whiteide week—I did not see him till the middle of the week—be then had a mark on his nose, and one of his eyes was black—the mark on his nose was wound, more of a braise than a cut—it had not ft Moody appearance—it was across the upper part of the nose—I think it must have been done several days—he remained there about three weeks—we had some conversation about the marks on his face, and he told me they were done from an accident by a cab knocking him down in the street—he did not say where, but I supposed he meant in London.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you remember the Derby-day? A. No—I never to Epsom Downs, or heard of them—we have a club at our place—they meet on Whit-Tuesday to have their dinner—I cannot recollect the day I saw him; it might be the middle of the week—I cannot swear that I did not see him on the Tuesday, nor yes that I did—I can't remember the day; it was some time in that week—I believe it was after Tuesday—I did not any one of the name of Grover down there.
JOSEPH LAMBERT (Police-sergeant, E 12). I took the prisoner into custody on 25th July, about 9 o'clock in the evening, at 28, Weston-street, Bermond-sey—I was in plain clothes—I told him I was a police-officer, and I should take him into custody for committing a burglary at 32, Harley-street, about the first part of June—he said, "That is near Cavendish-square"—I said, "Yes it is"—he said, "Ah, I know the b—that has put you on to me; it is quite true I am living with his wife, but you will' have to prove I am the man "—I said, "I will give you every opportunity of being identified"—be said, "Very well"—I searched him, and found this life-preserver in his left breast-coat pocket—there was a woman in the house whom I have known for some years—I had a letter in my possession which I got from Grover, the husband of that woman—this is it.
Cross-examined. Q. When you found that life-preserver, did not he say that his life had been threatened? A. No; he said, "That I bare carried to give it to the b——that has given you the information of me"—he did not say that his life had been threatened by the man who had denounced him—I swear that—Sergeant Franklin was with me—I believe he was not in the room at the time I found the life-preserver—I believe he was in the passage; but we were in the dark, and I cannot say.
Cross-examined. Q. You have taken a great many prisoners into custody, have you not? A. I have—I can't say that I have found knives on the majority—have found them; it it not uncommon.
FREDERICK SIMS . I am clerk at Millbank prison—I am acquainted with the prisoner's handwritings—I have seen him Write two or three times—on 2d May and on 12th May last, he wrote his name "William Atkins," nothing more—I always see them sign book for any moneys that they may receive—I have become acquainted with the character of his handwriting so far as the signature is concerned—I had to pay him money, and to take his signature
as a receipt—the signature to this letter resembles his; I have no doubt about its being his.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see this signature? A. About a fortnight ago—I had not seen the prisoner write since 12th May—from the peculiarity of the signature I have not the slightest doubt in my mind of this being his writing.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Have you a book in which his signature appears? A. Yes; it is here—I am not positive whether he signed "William" in full or not; but there is a peculiar character in the letter "W "that there can be no mistake about (The letter, being read, to was dated June 17th, 1862, commencing, "My dear Nelly," and signed, "Your loving Will;" and contained the following passage: "I thank you for sending me an account of the case; it was not in ours. It is not all true, but the clincher was right enough, and I warned him for it; and but for being drunk I should have satisfied myself; but never mind, it is a caution for the next time.")
WILLIAM SHORT (re-examined). I was examined before the Magistrate when Law was taken into custody—I there described the struggle I had with the man—I spoke of striking the man blows; and to the best of my knowledge I said I gave him a clincher at the finish, or something of that sort—I saw that in the newspapers.
Cross-examined. Q. Was what you said before the Magistrate taken down in writing? A. I can't say positively what they wrote down—the clerk was writing during the time—what he wrote down was read over to me—I have seen this letter before—the policeman had it, and he read that to me about the clincher—I don't think the man I struggled with was drunk; he might have been drinking slightly, but I should not fancy he was drunk, from the way he fought.
The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted of felony, to this part of the charge he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, August 20th, 1862.
PRESENT—Sir JOHN MUSGROVE, Bart. Ald.; Mr. Ald. GIBBONS; and Mr.
For the case of Charles Williams and Henry Duthoit Balch, tried this day, see Surrey cases.
~THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, August 20th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE BLACKBURN; Mr. Ald. SALOMONS, M.P.; and
Mr. Ald. GIBBONS.
Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
835. MARY ANN HARRIS (37) , Standing indicted for feloniously Attempting to kill herself and her infant child. The Jury, on the evidence of Mr. Roland Gibson, the surgeon of Newgate, found the prisoner unfit to plead to the indictment. Ordered to be detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be Known.
MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COOPER the Defence.
GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES RENDALL (E 151). On 10th July, about a quarter to 3 in the morning, I was on duty in Langham-place, and saw the prisoner go to 2, Dudley-street, and try the door there; he then went to 12, Charlotte-street, opened the door there with a key, and put his hand inside—he then pulled the door fast—he was disturbed by two dogs, and left, and went to No. 10—I did not hear the dogs—I afterwards took him in custody, and, took him to the station-house where I searched him, and found these eight keys (produced) and a knife, two boxes of silent matches, a large black bag round his waist, and a pair of gutta percha goloshes—I have gone to No. 12 with the keys and found that this one will open the door there—a person with these goloshes on can walk without making any noise.
Prisoner. Q. What do you consider the distance was at which you saw me enter No. 12? A. I was about forty yards from you—I saw you enter the house at that distance.
RICHARD MARTIN . I live at 12, charlotte-street, Marylebone, and am a plumber—I remember the policeman coming there on 10th July with some keys—I have a rough terrier dog in my house—it was sleeping in the passage, outside the back parlour door—it could come to the door directly, if it was opened—I did not hear it bark that night; it was, not in the habit of barking—I closed my door on the night of the 9th—I never saw the prisoner at all until he was at the police-court—he had no business at my house—I had closed my door that night before I went to bed—I do so every night—mine is a Bramah lock—there is a bolt on the inside; but the door was left on the latch that night for one of my lodgers to come in; that was why the dog was there—there is also a chain, but it was not up.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been convicted of felony at this Court, in November, 1859, in the name of William Chambers, and sentenced to Two Years' imprisonment; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Five Years' Penal servitude.
GEORGE HENRY JOHNSON . I am clerk to the treasurer of the Blind Man's Friend Charity, which is a charity for the purpose of paying annuities to blind persons, founded by the late Mr. Day—we pay annuities of 12l., 16l., or 20l. a year—a person named John Hooper Bicknell was appointed on 11th January 1861, to an annuity of 16l.—they are payable on 20th January, April, July, and October—we require the annuitant to produce a printed form of receipt, which is sent to them by us every quarter—this (produced) is a receipt for a quarterly payment of an annuity due on 20th
April, 1862—the prisoner brought that to the office of the charity—I asked her particularly if the receipt and certificate had been filled up entirely by Mr. Amos, the clergyman, and she said that the had just left him and seen him fill it up—we supply the printed part only of the receipt—the clergyman has to fill it up—when she brought it it was in the same state as now, with the writing on it—(This being read, was a receipt for 4 l. of the trustees of the Blind Man's Friend Charity, being a quarterly payment of an annuity of 16 l., for the quarter ending July, 1862, signed "John Bicknell" with a crost. It also contained a certificate, signed by James Amos, minister of Trinity Church, Marylebone, that John Hooper Bicknell had signed his mark to the foregoing receipt, in hit presence, and produced a certificate, No. 1,637, 100, and that he had no doubt of the identity of the said person. At the side of the receipt was written Jane Bicknell, No. 15, Charlton-street. The printed directions on the proof were also read)—the figures in that refer to our books—I do not now recollect the person of John Hooper Bicknell—his was always a mark, not a signature—we send these forms of receipt to the annuitant—we sent the one for John Hooper Bicknell's annuity to 15, Upper Charlton-street—I did not send it myself—I believe Charlton-street is in the district, of Trinity Church—these (produced) are the receipts for the quarters ending, January; April, July, and October, 1861, and January, 1862—I have no doubt they were brought by the prisoner, because each of them is signed by her—I know her writing—they are all exactly in the same form—I believe the "Jane Bicknell," on the one that was read, to be the prisoner's writing—when an annuitant changes his residence, it is the practice of the office to require a certificate—I received this document (produced) before I sent any receipts for John Hooper Bicknell, to 15, Charlton-street—it bears a mark of mine—refreshing my memory by it, I can say that the first receipt sent to 15, Charlton-street for him, was on 20th October, 1861—I paid the prisoner 4l. for each of these receipts that I have produced.
COURT. Q. Was the only thing you asked her whether Mr. Amos was still in Trinity Church district? A. No; I distinctly asked whether Mr. Amos had filled up the receipt.
REV. JAMES AMOS . I was the officiating curate at Trinity Church, Mary lebone, in the beginning of 1861—I ceased to be so on 17th February, 1861, after having been curate there nearly six years—15, Upper Charlton-street, is in the district of that church—none of these six receipts and certificates are signed by me—I did not know John Hooper Bicknell at all—these receipts have never been shown me by the prisoner.
MARTHA COX . I am the wife of John Cox, and live at 15, Upper Charlton-street—I remember John Houper Bicknell, a blind man, quite well—he was the prisoner's husband—they lodged in my House sixteen months—I remember his dying on 20th October, 1860—they were there four months before he died, and the window remained with me about five or six months afterwards—I could not exactly say how long—one paper came to her from the Blind Man's Friend Charity while she was with me, and when she went away she asked me if I would be kind enough to take them in for her after she was gone, because she did not like to trouble the gentleman to have her address altered, because she did not like her lodging—after she was gone I received some papers for her—I only saw the envelopes of them, not the inside; they came from the Blind Man's Society—I kept them till her son called for them—I did not give one of them to the prisoner herself—her boy was, I should think, about fifteen years of age—John Hooper Bicknell died in my house.
Prisoner. It was through Mrs. Cox that I did so, she persuaded me, and said that if her husband had died she would have done the same. Witness. That is not so; I took her to the clergyman and got a letter, asking to get the first quarter, because it came due on the day he died; I took she paper to the clergyman, and he wrote a letter; but, instead of posting that letter, she got the money by the forgery—I did not instigate her to do it.
Prisoner. I came home and told her I had got it, and that the clerk at the office had kept a sovereign, and she said it was a shame. Witness. It as great story; I never said such a word; you never named the sovereign to me.
GEORGE JOHN RAWLIKS . I was present when this receipt of April, 1862, was brought by Jane Bicknell—I took the paper from her—I heard Mr. Johnson ask her if the whole of the writing was Mr. Amos' handwriting, and she said "It is, and that she had just left him, and saw him fill in the writing.
Prisoner's Defence. I am guilty of going to receive the money; one of the clerks at the office filled the paper up for me; he had a sovereign the first time, 30s. the second time, and 2l. the last time; I told those words to Mrs. Cox; she cannot deny them.
GUILTY of uttering. — Confined Twelve Months
MR. GENT conducted the prosecution.
RICHARD JACKSON . I am a publican, and was living in West-street, near Long-acre—on 8th July I was aroused about 5 o'clock—I came down as soon as I possibly could, and found the prisoner inside the bar, in custody of a policeman, who was searching him—he had on him about seven shillings'-worth of farthings—this decanter was full of wine then—it was in his hand, and the cigars were secreted in various quantities over different parts of his clothes—I saw them taken from him—this bag contains farthings—they were taken from different parts of his persons concealed in his pockets—I left these things safe the night before at 12 o'clock; all in the same part of the bar—I fastened, bolted, and locked every door at 12 o'clock; the front door was fastened-the prisoner's coat was covered with sawdust—there was some dust on my cellar, and there were corresponding marks where he had lain in the cellar—I usually keep the celler locked, but the key happened to he lost that night; we looked before we went to bed, and could not find it at all—we did not look in the cellar; the lights were all out, and we had not the slightest suspicion of anything—afrer this took place the cellar was open—the value of these things, is I supose, about, a pound, including the seven shillings'-worth of farthings—my house is in St. Giles' parish.
Prisoner. At the police-court he said his servant fastened the doors. Witness. The servant fastened them, but I went round afterwards to see that they were all properly fastened.
ROBERT GIBBS . I live at 28, King-street, Old-street, Long-acre, and am a carman—I was passing Mr. Jackson's house on the morning about twenty-five minutes to 5, and saw Davis standing looking about there—he was about two yards from the house, with dirt and sawdust all over his coat—I stood back in the gateway, and saw him go into Mr. Jackson's house, at the one half of the front door, and then the door was left open about two inches, or a little more—that was just about a minute after the time at which I first saw him—I watched, and saw him come out and go up the court, and I
went round the corner of Watt-street and looked at the dock of St Martin's; it was then tan minutes to 5—his apron was on when be went in, but when be came out it was in his right hand, and something in it—I gave information to the policeman—I saw all these things taken from the prisoner.
WILLIAM RICE (Policeman, F 75). About 5 o'clock on the morning of 8th July, in consequence of what the last witness said to me, I went up to the prisoner, who was then, I should think, about 300 yards from the prosecutor's house; it would be rather farther than that by the way he went—I took him in custody, and took him back to the public-house, the street door of which was open—I took him in, searched him, and found on him these articles—the decanter was in this apron, and the cigars and money loose in different pockets; the farthings were in his pocket—some of them are new farthings, not all—he said he saw the door open, and walked in and helped himself to them—I noticed some sawdust on his coat—I passed the house about 4 o'clock that morning, and tried all the doors; they were then secure.
Prisoner's Defence. I have been in the habit of going in and out of that house for the last twelve or eighteen months. I was in liquor, and got looked in. The policeman has been to the place where I have worked for this last six years.
GUILTY . The policeman stated that he had been working at a place for sixteen months, and did very well when they could keep him from drink, to which he was wry much addicted.
Confined Six Months.
THOMAS DAY . I am a salesman at Billingsgate, and lodge with Mrs. Fox, at Dorset-street, Spitalfields—on 15th August, I west to bed about 11 o'clock—I put my trousers, with my money in them, and my waistcoat, underneath my pillow, and went quietly to sleep—I had about 14l. altogether—there was a 5l. note and a sovereign, and the rest in silver, excepting 3l. in gold—I awoke about 4 o'clock in the morning, and my clothes were gone—I missed three coats, a waistcoat, a pair of trousers, a pair of boots, two handkerchiefs, and some knives and books—I saw those clothes at the police-station; some of them are here now.
Prisoner. Q. Was there any more money in the trousers besides the 6l.? A. Yes; about 14l. altogether—I had a room to myself—there were other lodgers in the house.
EMMA FERGUSON . I am the wife of Alfred Ferguson, of 11, Dorset-street, Spttalfields—Mr. Day lodged with me on 16th August—there were other lodgers in the house, but he had a room to himself—I closed the house up myself that night, and bolted the street door as I usually do—I bolted Mr. Day's door on the outside; bolted him in his room—about 4 o'clock next morning I was awoke by the officer, and found that the street door and the other door had been burst open—that is all I know about it.
COURT. Q. What do you mean by "burst open?" A. Broken open; the bolt had been forced, and the latch likewise—I had bolted it myself the night before—a person inside could have opened the door without bursting it open.
SAMUEL KING (Policeman, H 68). About a quarter past 3, on the morning of the 16th, I was on duty, and met the prisoner in Crispin-street, Spitalfields—my attention was attracted by seeing the prisoner carrying a
bundle and some coats over his arm at an unreasonable hour in the morning—when I spoke to him he immediately threw the bundle down, and ran away—the coats were taken away, I believe, by some of his confederates; there were two women and another man with him, and I saw him pass something to them—I secured him—a brother constable picked up the bundle, and took it to the station.
Prisoner. Q. How far was the other constable away when you met me? A. About ten or a dozen yards on the other side of the road.
MR. ATKINSON. Q. Did you find anything in the pockets of the trousers at the station?A. A 5l. note and a sovereign in the watch-fob of the trousers.
COURT. Q. Were the trousers found in the bundle?A. Yes.
STEPHEN SQUIRE (Policeman, H 217). I was on duty on the opposite side of the road to King on this morning, and saw the prisoner come out of Dorset-street into Crispin-street—I saw my brother-officer go up and ask him what he had got there—I saw this bundle on the prisoner, and I believe he had a coat on his arm—when King went up to him he threw the bundle down and ran away—I ran after him—I saw two or three persons at a distance—as soon as I saw King secare him I ran and picked up this bundle (produced)—there was a 5l. Bank of England note, and a sovereign, in this inside pocket.
Prisoner's Defence. I was on my way to Whitechapel, and saw something lying on a piece of ground at the top of Dorset-street. I picked up the things, and when the policeman said, "What have you got there?" I dropped the bundle and ran a few yards. The policeman took me, and charged me with stealing them. There was nothing then in the pocket; when he brought the prosecutor an hour afterwards they found 6l. in the pocket. I know nothing of this robbery. What has become of all the other money? I did not know they were stolen.
GUILTY of receiving. — Confined Eight Months
MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES WALLACE . I am a cow-keeper, at Ham-common—I had a red cow in July, which had the lung disease—I called a Mr. Johnson in to it, and he was attending to it for about three weeks—I remember finding it dead in the shed on the morning of 10th July—I sent for the defendant, Bengo, who is a knacker at Kingston—he came, and I ultimately sold the carcase of the cow to him on that day, the 10th, for 14s.; that was the same day that I found it dead in the shed—he took it away in his knacker's cart.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. (For Bengo). Q. You have known Bengo some time, have you not?A. Yes; as carrying on business in my neighbourhood—he buys carcases and sells them again to feed dogs with—it is within my knowledge that he has sold either whole or parts of carcases to persons who keep dogs.
DAVID JOHNSON . I was employed by Mr. Wallace to give physic to his red cow—she had medicine for three weeks, sometimes once a day and sometimes twice—she had the lung complaint—her breathing was very heavy in her side—I heard it thirty yards off—a cow dying of that complaint would not be fit for human food—I helped to get the cow out of the cowhouse, when she was taken away.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Have you known Bengo some time as a neighbour?A. I have heard, among his neighbours, that he has borns the character of an honest and respectable man.
WILLIAM TICKNER . I am a butcher, at Kingston, in Surrey—on Thursday, 10th July, I went to Bengo's slaughter-house, in Coomb-lane, Kingston, and found the defendant, Neville, there—there was a red cow lying there, and he told me to dress it, and I dressed it—all the inside was taken out before I began to do anything to it; lungs, heart, and all—I dressed it in the same way that I have been in the habit of dressing all beasts—I took the head off, and dressed it as well as I knew how—I could tell it had the lung disease, by where the lung had adhered to the side—after I had dressed it I saw Neville again—the sides were hung up in the slaughter-house at the time he came in—he said he had a waggon come for it, and it was going away—Bengo was not present—he asked me to quarter it off—I waited till the waggon came, and then quartered it off—the waggon was driven by a man named Sandy—Sandy and I put the four quarters into the waggon—Mr. Neville told us to do so—he had a letter in his hand—after it was quartered off and loaded I went round to a beershop, at the corner of the lane; we had a pot of beer, and I left them there with the waggon—after I locked the gates up I took the keys to Bengo, and told him the cow was gone away; and he said, "All right"—nothing more passed between me and Bengo—he said he had stuck the cow, and it bled well—he had come in the slaughter-house with his horse and cart; he left the cart and took the horse away—that was before I had commenced taking the head off the cow—he remained a few minutes—I did not see any other cow there, besides the red one which I dressed—Mr. Neville paid me for my work.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You say the inside was taken out of the cow?A. Yes—that will make it keep longer, and it is usual to do so—there is occasionally some fat on the entrails; and there was some on the present occasion—I took it off, sold it, and gave the money to Mr. Neville—he told me he had bought it of Bengo, and paid him for it—there was a wich affixed to the wall, and by a bar I could wind it up—the winch is for winding anything up, especially for a knacker to wind up dead horses—there was a chain there, and I borrowed a tree to raise the carcase up—I saw nothing of Bengo while I was dressing the carcase—before I begun, he came in for the purpose of leaving his cart and taking his horse away—I borrowed nothing but the tree—I had my own tools—I know that Bengo, iu his business, buys dead carcases and animals for the purposes of selling them to feed dogs—I have known him some time, residing in the neighbourhood—I do not know anything about the value of a carcase—the skin of a cow like that is worth 12s. or 13s., and the bones 3s. 6d.—the fat is worth about 6s.—I do not know what the flesh would be worth if it were in the boilers—Bengo was at home when I took the keys to him—he did not interfere at all the time during the dressing; he gave me no directions, nor was he present when it was given to the carrier—he did not interfere in the least in the transaction—Neville said he bought it of Bengo—I am not sure whether he mentioned the price.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. (For Neville). Q. Are you in the habit of dressing cattle?A. Yes. The expression Neville used was that I was to "dress it"—I have had a little experience in meat—this appeared diseased when I removed the hide—when I came down to the fore quarters, I said that I found it was lung disease—I could not tell it was diseased till I came to the force quarters where the lungs were—I did not perceive that it was diseased on
taking off the hide—I did not perceive any indications of disease until I came to the interior of the animal—I do not think I said just now, that I perceived indications of disease as soon as I took the skin off—the entrails had been removed—the animal had been stuck in the usual way—there were no lungs in the carcase—the entrails were in the slaughter-house—I did not examine them—it was because I observed that there had been an adhesion between the lungs and the ribs—it is a very common thing to find adhesions between the lungs and the ribs; I have taken it out of good beasts that have coast 25l. each—I proceeded to dress this one after I perceived it was diseased—I did not know where it was going to be sent to—I had a butcher for my master, and I thought he would know better than me—I did not mention to any one that the animal was diseased before I parted with it.
MR. LILLEY. Q. In the short conversation you had with Bengo before dressing it, did he tell you he had sold the cow to Neville?A. He did—I have known Bengo for a number of years—as far as I know, he has always borne the character of a decent honest respectable man—I never knew anything to the contrary.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Who is Neville?A. I have known him as a butcher, at Richmond—that is the business I have always known him in there—Bengo and he were not acquainted before this, to ray knowledge.
JAMES SAUDY . I live at Chertsey, and drive Golding's waggon from Chertsey to London—I go to Kingston market on Thursdays—I remember Ticknell helping me to put some beef in my waggon—I do not know the man's name that paid me for it—they tell me his name is Neville—I have seen him once, in the stable, since he paid me the money—the prisoner Neville is like the man, but I should not like to swear to him—he gave me 4s.—I had a letter from him, and I took the meat to Newgate-market and gave the letter to Mr. Nicklinson, whom I never knew before—the man like Neville told me to deliver it in Newgate-market as early in the morning as I could—I had a quart of beer with him, which he paid for—it was about four o'clock in the morning.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Was the meat folded up in cloths? A. It was wrapped up, and there was a load of calves underneath it—the man that helped me to load it got the cloths to wrap it up in; I do not know his name—Bengo was not there at all.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Was the meat in any basket or hamper? A. No, I had no hamper—the calves were in the bottom of the waggon, alive and there were boards over them—there was the heat of the calves below and the new tarpaulin atop to keep the rain out.
COURT. Q. What o'clock did you get the meat in the waggon? A. At petty nearly 5 o'clock in the afternoon; something like that.
THOMAS NICKLINSON . I am a meat salesman in Newgate-market—on the morning of 11th July, four quarters of beef were brought to my place by the last witness, Sandy—he gave me a letter at the pame time—that letter is destroyed—(MR. SLEIGH objected to the contents of the letter being stated by the witness, as there was no evidence that Neville, who gave the letter to Sandy, either wrote it or knew the contents of it, one of which ought to be proved before secondary evidence could be given of its contents. MR. JUSTICE BLACKBURN considered that there was a fair presumption, which the Jury would deal with as they pleased, that he knew the contents of the letter, but the mere fact of his having sent it was sufficient to make it admissible)—the letter contained, as near as I can recollect, "Sell the four quarters of beef and send the account by the bearer"—there was no signature to it—the bearer delivered the letter to me and he expected to take the account of the beef back—I did
400 CUBITT, Mayor.
not know from whom it came—the meat was seen by Mr. Newman, the City inspector—I had not formed a judgment on it before the inspector saw it, but afterwards my opinion was that the meat was not good, and I sent it to the slaughter-house to go away for my pigs; it never went into my shop at all—I can tell by close examination the difference from meat which is bad, by reason of disease in the animal, and meat which is bad from putridity.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Is not meat of that sort, in that condition, worth as much as a penny a pound for dog's or cat's meat? A. Quite that, and more at the boilers—500lbs. was about the weight of it, I believe.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Do you have meat sent to you sometimes to be disposed of for those purposes?A. Well, not sent for that purpose, but we do so sometimes, sooner than offer them for sale—persons who have meat which is not strictly fit for human food, do not, as a rule, send it to me to be disposed of in the best way that I can, for dog's or cat' meat—it is not sent to me for that purpose, but I have disposed of it for my pigs, and for different purposes—I exercise my judgment; if I had not been a competent judge I should have offered that meat for sale and run a risk of being fined—if I receive meat in a bad state I should not offer it for sale.
COURT. Q. In the course of your business, is meat sent to you to form a judgment upon it, and either to sell it for human food, or for other food, according to your judgment, sent for you to form your judgment?A. well, yes, I believe it is; a great deal of meat is sent for that purpose to our market.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. To do whatever you think proper?A. Yes; I have had notice to that effect from the senders—I believe it often happens that animals have lung disease and still are fit for human food; an adhession between the lung and the rib is not uncommon—I am a grazier and slaughterer as well as a meat salesman—meat, fit for human food, being, packed between live calves underneath, and covered up by a tarpaulin, and kept in that confined state from 5 o'clock in the afternoon till 4 o'clock next morning, would be very much deteriorated indeed in condition, even if it were really good meat, it would have a wet appearance and very much like that of disease, I have seen it frequently—being packed in that manner would have a great effect upon it—the man came to me at first to deliver it at my shop, and I told him to stop against the slaughter-house with it—the place to which it was first taken is in Warwick-lane, not in the market proper—it was neither, when taken to my slaughter-house, or up to the time when it was conveyed away by the inspector, at any moment in what is technically known as Newgate-market—the meat was hung up on hooks at the request of the inspector, in order to afford greater facilities for examination; but not at the part where I sell meat, nor was it even in the market.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Well, Mr. Newman, the inspector, saw where it was? A. He did.
MR. LILLEY. Q. What would be the worth of the whole of this if sold as knacker's meat?A. From forty to fifty shillings the whole of it, the carcase hide and skin and altogether.
JAMES NEWMAN . I am one of the inspectors of meat for the City of London, appointed by the Commissioners of Sewers—on Friday morning, 11th July, I saw Sandy with another man, wheeling some meat in Newgate-street, and followed them to the shop of Mr. Nicklinson—as the meat was going along, I saw a portion of it which was uncovered, in consequence of
which I followed it into the shop and examined it—I found that it was the four quarters of a cow that had evidently died from disease—the blood was in the tissues of the meat, and had not been taken from it; the lining of the lungs and the belly was very much inflamed—the lungs themselves were not there, but I could tell from the cavity of the chest—it was altogether in such a state as to be unfit for human food—if four quarters of beef were put in a cart, covered with a cloth, and with live calves underneath, the meat would not have presented the appearance which this did, even if it had been there five nights; it may have made it bad but not diseased—I can tell the difference between putrid meat and the meat of an animal that has died from disease—in my judgment the indications that I saw existed the previous day—there is a large quantity of meat sold at Mr. Nicklinson's shop every day—I, and the other inspectors inspect that place every day as part of Newgate-market—I went down to Bengo's at Kingston that same day and found him washing his cart in his slaughter-house—I told him I was an officer, and had come down from London concerning a body of beef that I had seized that morning, that bad been brought that morning by Sandy, who had told me that he brought it from Bengo's place, it Kingston—Bengo said be was wrong, he had not had any beef on his premises for four or five weeks—I asked him if any one else had dressed a cow on his premises—he said, "No"—I asked him if any one had borrowed his cart to fetch a cow in—he said, "No, he had nothing at all to do with any beef, but that there was another Bengo in the town who might possibly have sent it—on his making that statement I left him—Bridges, the policeman, and Fisher were with me at the time—on the 17th I went to look after Neville, and found him in Kingston market-place—I told him I had got a summons for him to appear at the Guildhall police-court, London, concering four quarters of a cow that he had sent to Mr. Nicklinson of Newgate-market—he said it surprised him as he knew nothing about it—Fisher was with me then.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you go to Neville's house? A. I did, the first day; he lives in a private house, a new and respectable house—from what I have heard, I believe he is not in business at the present time—the place which I spoke of as Bengo's slaughter-house, is a slaughter-house, there is a chain and a pulley to draw up either a cow or a horse, and I also saw some tools there; a meat-chopper, not a wood-chopper—there is a good deal of difference between a meat-chopper and a wood-chopper; they are differently made—when I went and spoke to Bengo, I did not say that I had the man in custody—I told him I should have taken him in custody that morning had he not given the name of where he brought it from—I am quite clear that I did not say that I had the man in custody—I believe the policeman who accompanied me was not in uniform—I said we were both officers of the City of London—I do not know whether I said we came concering beef, or concerning cow, both words are the same; when a cow is killed it in beef—I cannot recollect which word I used; each word is so used in the trade—I dare say such a chopper as I saw, is a necessary tool for the use of a knacker in reference to a carcase or horse—I did not take any memorandum of the conversation—I thought he was telling me the truth, and therefore I did not take any notice of it.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Was the place where the meat was when you went to look at it, the slaughter-house?A. The shop and slaughter-house are all in one, there is no division between them—the front part is used as a shop, and the back as a slaughter-house—the meat was at
the slaughter-house—I have always understood that place to be Newgate-market—Mr. Nicklinson is more likely to know than I—it is part of my duty to visit that shop every day—I think, when I went to Kingston, I told Neville that I, and the person who accompanied me, were officers of the City of London; I did not ask him any questions—I believe that before he said anything, I said, "We are officers of the City of London."
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Is meat sold at Mr. Nicklinson's place?A. It is sold there publicly in large quantities every morning except Sunday—I have no reason to distinguish that place from any other part of Newgate-market.
CHARLES FISHER . On the morning of 11th July last, at about half-past 5, Newman called my attention to four quarters of a cow at Mr. Nicklinson's—I examined the carcase—it was unfit for human food—it had the appearence of a cow that had died from lung disease—that was quite apparent to any one at all familiar with meat—I should think it would have presented the same appearance on the previous day—it was fresh, not tainted by the weather—I went with Mr. Newman and a police officer that afternoon, and saw Bengo—we told him who we were, and asked him if be knew anything of a cow that had been sent to Newgate-market that morning, or rather the day before—he said he did not know anything at all about it—he knew nothing about a cow—we asked him several times if he had had a cow on his premises that day—he said he had not; and, in fact, had not had a cow on his premises for some weeks—he was then asked if he had lent his cart to any one to fetch such a thing—he said no he had not, and knew nothing about it—this conversation took place in Bengo's place, which is in a lane close in Kingston—on Thursday, the 17th, I went again to Kingston with Newman, and saw Neville in the market-place there, and told him we were officers from the City, and had come down there respecting a cow, which it was stated he had sent to Mr. Nicklinson's at Newgate market—he said he knew nothing at all about it—it was the first he had heard of it—we asked, did not he know anything about a cow that came from Mr. Wallace's, of Hamcommon—he said, "I know nothing about it; this is the first I have heard of it; I never heard it mentioned before"—I do not think anything was said about where the cow was put into the cart—he denied it altogether, and we served him with a summons and left him.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. You have spoken of the building in Coomb-lane as a slaughter-house; had it the usual accommodation that a slaughter-house has; was there any blood-hole?A. It was paved with small bricks—I have been into a knackers before—most knackers buy horses and kill them—I did not notice whether there were any meat hooks—it was fitted in the usual way that a knacker's is.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Do you know how this meat was conveyed to town?A. I believe it came by Gelding's waggon—I do not know any of the particulars about it—it depends on circumstances what effect would be produced upon meat by its being packed in cloths, and put in a waggon with live calves, and covered with a tarpaulin to keep the wet out and the air in—I do not consider that it would make any difference to meat of this description—it was so bad that I do not think it could have been much worse—I do not say that with regard to good meat.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. What would be the effect of that upon good meat?A. It would disfigure it if calves trampled on it—the effect of the heat would make the meat stink sooner, if packed in that way before the meat was properly cool; but, if packed when cool, it would not have that effect upon it—this meat did not present that appearance at all—no amount of keeping would produce the condition in which this meat was.
WILLIAM WILDE . I am one of the inspectors of meat to Newgate-market—I sew these four quarters of beef—in my judgment they were the meat of an animal in a very advanced state of disease, and which bad evidently died.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. What effect, in your judgment, would be produced upon ordinarily good meat, if it were packed for twelve hours in a vehicle with live calves, and a tarpaulin thrown over the vehicle? A. There might be a damp murky perspiration on the outside, nothing more, I should think, even in warm weather—if packed so for twelve hours it would only have a damp appearance on the outside—the wet which is an appearance of disease, is quite different from the appearance of this meat—there are several indications of lung disease, wetness is one of them.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. To what was the appearance of this particular meat attributable in your judgment?A. To disease—it was inflamed through the inside—the meat was fresh.
WILLIAM DAVIDSON . I have been an inspector of meat to Leadenhall-Market for many years—I inspected the four quarters of the cow in question—I considered it decidedly unfit for human food—any person at all acquainted with meat must have seen that the keeping of it would not alter the character of the meat—the appearanoe might be altered a little.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. You did not cut the meat for the purpose of examination?A. No; there was no occasion to out it—I did not cut it.
EPHRAIM BRIDGES (Policeman, V 356). (Examined by MR. LILLEY.) I am a policeman stationed at Kingston, and have known Bengo for, I should say, twenty years—I never knew anything amiss of him—he has been summonsed certainly two or three times-for leaving his cart outside public-houses and so on.
MR. SLEIGH submitted that there was no evidence that the offence was committed in Newgate-market, and that there was no wending; as a sending insolved an arrival at the place indicated. MR. JUSTICE BLACKBURN considered that it was not necessary for the offence to be committed in Newgatemarket, the essence of the offence being the sending and causing it to depart, with the intention that it should be sold in a public place, for human food.
The prisoners received good characters.
BENGO— NOT GUILTY .
NEVILLE— GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his good character. — Confined Three Months and Fined 50l.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, August 20th, 1862.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
JOSIAH LUCY . I am clerk to Mr. Dalton, a bookseller, of Cockspur-street—on Friday, 14th July, between 12 and 1 o'clock, the prisoner came for 1l. 2s. worth of postage-stamps—I gave him three sheets—two sheets of 10s, each, and one of 2s.—he appeared to count them attentively—he looked at them, and put his fingers over them, and then asked me to wrap them in paper for him—I did so, and gave them to him—he gave me a sovereign and 2s. in payment, and was about to leave the shop—I had no suspicion of him at all—when I put the sovereign on the counter
the sound of it attracted my attention, and I called to the prisoner and told him I believed it was bad—he said he did not know it was bad—I marked it at once, and then tested it with a good one in the scales—I then sent for a policeman and gave the prisoner into custody with the sovereign—this is it (produced)—I asked the prisoner where he came from, and he said from somebody in Drury-lane, either Mr. Jones or his master, I don't know which—he asked if he might have the 2s. worth of stamps—I did not let him have them.
Prisoner. At the time he marked that sovereign, he had another one in his hand; am I to be sure he did not change them? Witness. That is incorrect—I called to you, taking the money in my hand—I said, "This is a bad sovereign," and marked it at once—I then went to the till for a good one, and put them in the scales in your presence—you came back at once when I called—I was very busy at the time—you said nothing about a man named Jones being outside—you may have mentioned Jones—you said you came from somebody in Drury-lane; either from Mr. Jones or your master, you mentioned some name.
COURT. Q. How did he give the sovereign to you?A. Threw it down in the ordinary way—I took up the money, and my usual custom is to put it on the counter before I put it in the till, and it was then I suspected it—by that time he had nearly reached the door of the shop—I did not ask him where he lived.
MR. CRAWFORD. Q. Can you recollect in what way he put down the money on the counter?A. I do not—I can't recollect exactly whether he threw it down or not—I did not hear any sound when be put it down.
JOHN GARTHWAITE (Policeman, A 224). I was called into Mr. Dalton's shop on this day, and the prisoner was given into my custody with this sovereign—in answer to a question at Mr. Dalton's shop, the prisoner said that his master, Mr. Jones, had sent him from Drury-lane to get 22s. worth of stamps—when he got to the station, in answer to the inspector, he said a stranger to him, about three yards from Mr. Dalton's, had given him the sovereign and two shillings to get 22s. worth of stamps, and he said that the stranger offered him sixpence to do so—I inquired about a Mr. Jones, but I could not find any one—his father lives at 3, Whitehorse-court, Drury-lane—he is in Court.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I go quietly with you down to the station? A. Yes; I had no trouble with you.
COURT. Q. Is his father a respectable man?A. Yes; he is a furniturebroker—I searched the prisoner, but only found 2d.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . This is a bad sovereign—it is only a good imitation when it has just left the battery—it is much lighter than an ordinary sovereign—it would look as good as any sovereign when first tendered—the colour does not last—it will turn quite black, and if kept in a purse, the colour will wear off.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was read as follows:—"I was coming along Cockspur-street, when a gentleman asked me to go in and get him 22s. worth of postage-stamps, and said he would give me 6d. for getting them, and if I was asked who they were for, I was to say "Mr. Jones," and that is the reason I said "Mr. Jones." I made no statement about my master whatever. I was told if I could not get 22s. worth, I was to get 2s. worth of postage-stamps."
The prisoner's father gave him a good character.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
JANE WRIGHT . I serve at the refreshment-counter in the Pantheon, Oxford-street—the prisoner came there on a Monday—he asked the price of a bottle of ginger-beer—we have two prices, 3d and 4d.—I told him 3d.—I gave him one, and he gave me a bad half-crown—I said, "This is a bad half-crown you have given me," and gave it to him back, and he bent it with his fingers, and put it in his waistcoat-pocket—I went for some change, and sent a young person down to a man named William Lovell, who is employed at the Pantheon.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. When you went for the change, where was the prisoner? A. at my counter—it was some few minutes before I brought the change back.
WILLIAM LOVELL . I manage a stall in the Pantheon, in the conservatory—the refreshment-counter is up stain—I was sent for there on 4th August—I had warned the parties inside previously that there was bad money passing—I ran up stairs, and saw the prisoner sitting down at the refreshment-stall—I had seen him before on the Thursday or Friday week previously, 24th or 25th of July, in the conservatory at my stall—he purchased a threepenny bunch of everlasting flowers—he gave me a florin in payment—I instantly detected it was bad, and told him so, and he gave me a good florin—I kept ft for some time, but I afterwards lost it—I took the good one, gave him change, and he left—I, at that time, pointed him out to the porter at the door—when I saw him again at the refreshment-counter, I recognised him instantly—I told him he had attempted to pass a bad two shilling-piece with me—he said I was mistaken; he had not been there—I have not the slightest doubt be is the same man—he was about to leave, and I said, "You had better wait for the change," and he did so—Miss Wright had not come back with the change then—I sent for Brown, a porter, and left him with the prisoner—I did not hear anything pass between them.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he take away the bunch of flowers with him? A. Yes—I showed the florin he gave me to a porter at the door, named Palmer—he is here—I took it home, and it was afterwards lost—when I told the prisoner he had better wait, he remained quietly there—there were plenty of people about—he might have got away if he had tried.
THOMAS BROWN . I am one of the porters at the Pantheon—I was sent for on 4th August, and saw the prisoner there—I asked him where the bad half-crown was he offered to Miss Wright—he said, "I have got it"—I said, "Let me have it"—he hesitated a little while, put his hand in his waistcoat-pocket, and handed it to me, saying, "There it is"—I kept it in my possession till I gave it to the officer—we detained him till the policeman came, and then handed him over.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you take hold of him? A. No, I told him to walk before me into our office, and he did so—he hesitated about half a minute before he gave me the florin.
JAMES PALMER . I am a porter in the Pantheon—I was on duty there on the 24th and 25th of July last—my attention was called to the prisoner by Lovell—he also showed me a florin—I did not take it in my hand—it was bent up—it had the appearance of a very bad one—I was present on the second occasion, and was asked if this was the same man, and I said "Yes"—I recognised him as the man who had been pointed out to me before.
Cross-examined. Q. You were not examined before the Magistrate? A. No.
THOMAS SHILLINGFORD (Policeman, A 325). I was sent for to the Pantheon on 4th August, and the prisoner given into my custody—I received this half-crown from Brown—I asked the prisoner where he got it from—he said, "I had it in change some time ago"—I said, "In change for what?"—he said, "For a sovereign"—I said, "Can you inform me where you changed it?"—he said, "No, it is more than a week ago, and I cannot tell you"—I searched him, but found nothing more on him, except the good change which he had received from Miss Wright, 2s. 3d.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"I am truly sorry that I attempted to past the bad half-crown on Miss Wright on Monday week. Had I known it was bad, I would not have done such a thing. As to the other case, those two men are mistaken. I was not in the Pantheon on the day in question."
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
847. EDWARD HENRY DAVIS (26) , Unlawfully obtaining by false pretences 15 shirts, the property of George Wade Reynolds and another, and 6 ostrich feathers, the property of Frederick Goodyear and another, with intent to defraud; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY — Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ORRIDGE, for the prosecution, stated that the prisoner had been to a great many of the large towns in England, using the names of different firms, and obtained goods.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES HARDEY . I keep the Red Lion public-house, in Horton-street, Clare-market—on the evening of 22d July, between 7 and 8 o'clock, the prisoner Gibbons came into my house, and asked for a half-quartern of rum, she gave me a shilling in payment, and I gave her 9d.—I put the shilling in the till—there was other money there—she drank the rum, and went away—in about a quarter of an hour afterwards she came in with three other women—Miles was one of them—Gibbons asked for a quartern of rum, and tendered a shilling in payment—I gave her 6d.—they drank that between them—I put that shilling in the till—there was then in the till nothing but sixpences and the other shilling—a pot of beer was then called for by Miles, which was 4d.—she gave me a shilling, and I gave her 8d.—I also put that shilling in the till—the other two women were there then—Miles afterwards called for a quartern of rum, and tendered a shilling in payment—I looked at it; it was a bad one—I had suspicion of it, and put it on one side underneath the counter, on a ledge which comes out, by itself—the quart of beer was not drunk—Miles said she wanted half-a-pint—she took an oath she
would not drink out of a quart pot, and then asked for half a pint, and said she would pay for it herself—she gave me a shilling; and I gave her 11d. change—I tried that shilling with ray teeth; it was rather soft—I then put it the other, under the ledge—about this time a person came in and asked me for change for a half-sovereign, and I went to my till to get the change—I found the three bad shillings there, and gave them in change for the half-sovereign, and the rest in sixpences—she tried, one of the shillings in my presence, and said it was bad—I then sent ray servant for a constable, and gave all four of the women in charge, the two prisoners amongst them—the policeman took the five bad shillings I had taken—I gave the person who came for change good money, and told her to hold her tongue, as the people were in the house who had given me the money—I sent for a police-man quietly, and they were just going away when he came in—I put no other shilling in the till while they were drinking in the house, or before.
Miles. Q. Did you ever see me in your house before? A. No; never before this.
CATHERINE MONALLY . I live at Newcastle-street, Strand—my husband is a coal-whipper—I was in company with the prisoners at Mr. Hardey's—I drank a portion of the porter—I did not pay for anything myself—Mrs. Gibbons paid for a quartern of rum first—I went in with the intention of giving Mrs. Gibbons a drop of beer—I have known her for twenty years as a hard-working woman—she called for some rum, and I said, "I don t drink spirits, and have not done for three weeks"—I saw Mrs. Gibbons pay for the rum with a shilling—Mrs. Miles next asked for a pot of porter, and paid for it, I cannot say what with—Mrs. Miles then asked for a quartern of rum, and paid for it, and then for half a pint of porter, and paid for that—after that I saw Mrs. Gibbons take a shilling from her bosom, wrapped up in a piece of newspaper, and give it to Mrs. Miles, and then Mrs. Miles gave a shilling for the porter, and got the change.
Miles. Q. What did I do with the change? A. Gave it to Mrs. Gibbons—you called for a quartern of rum.
Gibbons. Q. You have often drank my company? A. Yes—never in that house—I have never heard of your passing bad money—there were two quaterns of rum called for.
HENRY LAWRENCE (Policeman, F 141). On Tuesday evening, 22d July, I was called to Mr. Hardey's, in Clare-market—I there saw the two prisoners, and two other females with them—they were all four given into my custody—I took them to the station, with the help of another constable—Mr. Hardey gave me these five bad shillings (produced)—Gibbons was very violent, and fell down several times—Miles was very quiet all the way—6d. in silver and nine pennyworth of coppers were found on Gibbons, and 6d. in silver and seven pennyworth of coppers on Miles.
Miles' Defence. I am not guilty of passing bad money; we have got characters.
The prisoners received good characters.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months each.
849. MARY GREEN (17) , Stealing, on 25th April, 10 shirts, the property of William Hammond; on 23rd June, 12 yards of muslin, the property of Tom Rickman; and on 4th July, 3 shifts, 2 pairs of stockings, 2 shirts, 2 table-cloths, and other articles, the property of Annie Bryan; to which she
PLEADED GUILTY .*— Confined Eighteen Months.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, August 21st, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE WILLIAMS; Mr. Ald. GIBBONS; and ROBERT
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
MR. PLATT conducted the Prosecution.
HONORA MYERS . I am an unfortunate woman, and live at 2, Victoria-places, Shadwell—on Saturday evening, 26th July, the prisoner was brought by Sank Smith, a coloured girl, to that place—he slept with me that night, and promised, to give me 5s. in the morning—the coloured girl took his money, and she and the landlady had the clothes and money between them—in the morning the prisoner asked me where his things were—he knew very well where they were, for be missed them at half-past 11 o'clock over night—the coloured girl was after taking his money and things then—I saw her take them—I was sitting in the kitchen when she brought them down—she brought down his trousers and jacket, and what money he had, I suppose in the trowsers, she had between her and the landlady, and she took the trowsers up stairs again—I did not see what the money was—I did not see any money at all—she took it in to the landlady, whatever she had in her hand—I got up about 3 o'clock in the morning, and went out drinking, leaving the prisoner in bed—afterwards he came up to me in the street, catched hold of me by the shoulder, and stabbed me in two places, behind the back, and under my arm—that was about a quarter-past 7 o'clock, I think—I do not recollect anything about the blows myself, for I was tipsy—1 remember his coming down the street; but I do not recollect anything else before I found myself in the London Hospital on Sunday morning—I was then wounded—I was in the hospital three weeks—I came out last Saturday.
Prisoner. I was met by this woman on the Saturday night; she won't acknowledge that she robbed me, and it is no use asking her any questions. Witness. I did not rob him—when he came to the house he brought the girl of colour with him—that was about half-past 10 at night; they both went up stairs into a room—I knew the coloured girl—she lived with the landlady's sister; she brought him to the house—he went with her first, and slept with me afterwards; the coloured girl left him about 11—after she brought the things down she went straight away—I do not know whether she took his things with her—she took them into the room to the landlady, and she did not bring them out any more—I don't know what became of the money; they had it between them—I saw them divide it—I do not know what became of the clothes.
JAMES HARWOOD . I am a labourer living at 15, Victoria-street, St. George's—on 26th July, about a quarter-past 7, in the morning, I was in Victoria-street, and saw the prisoner come to the prosecutrix, lay hold of her by one hand, and stick the knife in her back three or four times—I was the knife—this is it (produced)—the last blow was in the shoulder, and he could not pull the knife out again—the woman fell—I gave an alarm, and he was taken—I had not seen any altercation between them—the woman said nothing to him previously—I saw him go to the court where he was robbed; he could not find her there, and he came down the street and stabbed her—he had on an old pair of his shipmate's trowsers, a shirt, and a pair of boots; nothing else.
COURT. Q. You say he had hold of her with one hand, what part of her? A. By her left wrist, and struck her in the back—her back was towards his face—she did not say a word, only called out, "Oh," as he stuck the knife into her.
EDWARD DILLON (Policeman, K 19). In consequence of information, I went to Bluegate-fields; I saw the prosecutrix there; she was wounded in several places, and was bleeding very much—I saw a knife sticking in her right shoulder; it was firmly fixed through her clothes and flesh into the shoulder, right up to the hilt, as far as it could go; we could not get it out—I placed her in a cart and took her to the hospital, where I saw the surgeon take out the knife—I returned to the station, and told the prisoner that the woman was stabbed in four or five places, and I believed she would die—the prisoner said, "Whatever if the matter with her; I have done it; she has robbed me of my clothes, and all my money"—I had gone to the house a short time before the woman was stabbed, and searched it, and I found a pair of trowsers between the bed and mattress, in the second floor front-room, where the prisoner said he had slept with the woman—I had seen the prisoner walking about the street, about three-quarters of an hour before—he was then in his drawers, shirt, and stockings; he complained of being robbed at this house—I went there and saw the prosecutrix, and told her in the prisoner's presence that he accused her of robbing him—she said, "I have not robbed him," and she rushed at him and struck him on the head with her fist—this was about three-quarters of an hour before she was wounded—she swore a word I should not like to repeat, and called him a black nigger—she said they had passed the night together, and when she awoke in the morning, the clothes were gone—she was very drunk and violent—the prisoner had no knife then—I advised him to go and get some things.
DAVID HYMAN DYTE . I am house surgeon at the London Hospital—on Sunday morning, 27th July, about 7 o'clock, the prosecutrix was brought there—she had a punctured wound of the right shoulder, in which a knife was firmly fixed—it was buried to the depth of four inches; the whole length of the blade up to the handle—it required some force to get it out—besides that she had a lacerated wound, two and a quarter inches long, in the same arm, and two punctured wounds in the back, and a slight wound of the right loin—the wound on the shoulder was not dangerous to life—it was a very severe wound; the others were not so dangerous—she remained there about three weeks—she cannot move her arm very well yet; but she is now pretty well—it must nave required very great force to have inflicted the wound on the shoulder.
In the prisoner's statement before the Magistrate he alleged that the prosecutrix had robbed him of his clothes and money, and that with the vexation he struck her with the knife.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not mean to do anything to her; it is the first time I have been in England.
GUILTY on Second Count.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing his grievance to be very aggravated.
Confined One Year.
MESSRS. SLEIGH and OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. SLEIGH and OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Fifteen Months.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, August 21st, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE BLACKBURN; SIR JOHN MUSGROVE, Bart Ald;
and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
MESSRS. GIFFARD and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
ISODORE MATHER . I am a wine importer, and carry on business at 87, Great Tower-street, under the firm of I. Mather and Co.—the prisoner was formerly in my service as clerk—his salary at first was 28s. a week—he was about two and a half or three years in my service; he absconded in February, 1861—I had no notice that he was going to leave me—I heard nothing of him until he was taken into custody in this year—I had a customer of the name of Basil Wood and Co., of New Bond-street—I had not supplied was to that firm when the prisoner was with me, or had any business transactions with them—this is one of our invoices—it relates to goods supplied by me to Basil Wood and Co.—that invoice was sent to them—the prisoner had no authority from me, in March, 1862, to receive from Basil Wood and Co. the sum of 19l. 17s. 10d., or any amount on my account—this invoice is receipted, I. Mather and Co.; it is the prisoner's handwriting; it was written without my authority—I did not receive from the prisoner any cheque for 19l. 17s. 10d.
Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Have you any of your books here today to show that you paid this man a salary of 28s.? A. No; I have no books here—I persist in swearing that I paid him 28s. a week—I have received 100l. from the prisoner's father—that was not for any losses that he had made; it was for his debt; what he owed in '55 and '56—that was not a debt of Carey's; no part of it—it had nothing to do with Carey—I allowed the prisoner a profit upon certain sales that he made—I had a list of customers that were called private customers, not wholesale customers—there was not a large class of customers the profit of which belonged entirely to the prisoner; not any—I never received 30l. on account of a private customer that the prisoner had brought me—I remember receiving a cheque on the London and Westminster Bank from the prisoner; I only received one cheque—when I saw that cheque I saw that he banked there; that was paid on his account—I was not aware that the prisoner was constantly in the habit of signing "De Mather and Co."—I swear that—he was not in the habit of signing the name of the firm at the London Dock—he never signed it with my knowledge—I know a person named Dingwall—there is no sum of 100l. due to the prisoner upon any transaction with Dingwall—it was before he left that I received the 100l. from his father—I
think it was in January or December—the prisoner was not in the habit of accepting bills for the firm—he never accepted accommodation bills—I swear that he never accepted one bill for me—I appeared at the Thames police-court at the first examination, and was examined—it is not a fact that a warrent was applied for to take me there because I would not go—I swear that—I went there of my own free will—I had not to be coerced in any way to go—there are not several actions pending against me on account of transactions of the prisoner with the London Dock Company; there are aganist the prisoner—I don't know that there are any against the prisoner and myself jointly—nobody is trying to make me pay money in the other courts—I only allowed the prisoner a profit upon three transactions—I had settlements with him from time to time, at which the profits were struck off the transactions he had had—I do not know of any bill for 235l., that was sent to Austria, which the prisoner accepted—there was no such bill—I know of no such bill which was payable at the prisoner's bankers which went to Austria, or anywhere, on account of wine—there is no sum of 100l. owing to the prisoner upon commission or profit; not a farthing.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did you, with your solicitor, Mr. Humphreys, apply for a warrant against the prisoner? A. Yes; that was before he was taken into custody—for the purpose of obtaining that warrant I laid an information before the Magistrate, and I attended at the first examination when the prisoner was brought up in custody—the transaction upon which I agreed to allow the prisoner a profit was this: there was a large business of about 7,000l., and the party had not accepted the order, and I promised him if I did that large business I would give him 100l.—that wan a transaction with Porter and Co., in October or November, 1860—the 100l. which the prisoner's father paid to me was in December, 1860, or January, 1861—he had made some debts upon his clothes and hats and things, and his creditors wished to put him in prison—his wife came to me and cried very much, and asked me to pay her husband's debts, and I said if his father would accept 100l. for his son I would do so—his father gave his acceptance, and I took him out from prison—the 100l. went into my pocket—I paid it for him—I paid about 98l., and it took 2l. interest.
JURY. Q. Was the profit allowed as a commission, or as so much on the lot? A. As commission on the lot; as I did the business I gave the commission—it was an arbitrary sum.
ROBERT BALLARD WOOD . I am a member of the firm of Basil Wood and Son, wine merchants, of 108, New Bond-street—we have had transaction with I. Mather and Co.—we have frequently had samples from them, and have on those occasions seen the prisoner—it is two or three years ago that I first saw him—he has frequently called at our place with samples—I did not know what position he occupied in Mr. Mather's house; in fact, I thought he might be one of the firm—I had never seen Mr. Mather at that time—I received this invoice from Messrs. Mather for goods supplied; it is dated 21st March, 1862—the prisoner called on me after that, on a Saturday, the usual day for collecting debts; it was the next day to the date of the invoice, the 22d—he asked bow we got on with his Hungarian wines, or something like that; and, I believe, he mentioned that the parcel which was out of the ship John Bull was disposed of, but that by the Cosmopolitan remained—he asked if he could take some money—I believe his words were, "Can you give me some money?" and then he said, "2l. or 8l. will do"—I said, "I can give you a cheque"—I got the invoice from the drawer, and gave it to him, and I gave him a cheque—he said, "Don't cross the cheque"
—I said, "You must excuse me, we invariably cross our business cheques"—I wrote out this cheque, and crossed it, "—and Co.," not knowing Messrs. Mather's bankers—I gave it to the prisoner—he wrote this receipt on the invoice—the cheque has been returned through the bankers as duly paid—(The invoice and cheque were read; the receipt was signed "I Mather and Co.")
Cross-examined. Q. What number of years had you had transaction with De Mather and Co.? A. I believe this was the first transaction we had; we had had samples from them—the prisoner had called for two or three years as De Mather and Co., and I thought he was one of the firm.
MR. POLAND. Q. Had you seen him during the last-year? A. I do not think I had; I do not remember—I was not aware that he had left Messrs. Mather's service, or he would not have had the cheque.
WILLIAM WATERWORTH . I assist in managing the business of Messrs. Lockwood, a stationer, of 75, New Bond-street—on Saturday evening, 12th March, about 6 o'clock the prisoner called, and said he wanted to purchase a dressing-case to the value of about 30s.—he paid for it with this cheque—I referred to the Directory, and, finding the name there, I gave him the change—he signed his name on the back "I. Mather and Co."
He was further charged with having been before convicted of felony on 13th March, 1852; to which he
MR. GIFFARD stated that the conviction referred to was a charge of forgery, when the prisoner was sentenced to ten years' transportation. There were two other indictments against the prisoner.
Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES HILL . I am one of the firm of Henry Hill and others, tailors, of 3, Old Bond-street—the prisoner was in our service for about eight years, up to June 23d—it was part of his duty to receive money on account of the firm, and enter it in our books—he reoeived cheques, and entered them in the same way—it was his duty to pay in the cheques he received to the Union Bank, Regent-street, when the amount had accumulated to 100l.—he had no authority to sign the name of our firm—I am acquainted with his writing—the whole of this cheque (produced) is his writing—he would have access to letters addressed to the firm by coming early enough—when money is paid into the banker's a credit slip is given—this credit slip (produced) is dated 26, 3, '61—the first item is a cheque from William Tucker for 9l. 14s.; it is in the prisoner's writing—I was not aware of any credit of 9l. 14s. being sent up to us, till after the prisoner left our service—I had not the slightest idea of his being about to leave.
Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. Does this slip show the amount paid into your bank by the prisoner? A. It professes to do so—a large amount of money has passed through his hands—it was his duty on receiving money to make an entry in the cash-book, and to pay the money into the bank in the afternoon—I have three partners—it was not the prisoner's duty to open letters when I was from home; but, I believe, at one time we authorised him to open letters when we happened to be all absent—when information of an order was given in this way, his usual practice was to draw a cheque and ask us to sign it; my brother usually signs cheques—I know now that the prisoner has endorsed cheques.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. With your authority? A. No; without our authority or knowledge, and for no authorised purpose of the firm—it would not be his duty to draw a cheque, sign it himself, and pay it in; that would open the door to frightful irregularity—I was not aware of any sum of 9l. 14s. coming—the effect of paying that in would enable him to suppress another 9l. 14s., which he might receive.
HORACE ROBERT BLOXHAM . I am one of the cashiers of the Union Bank of London, Regent-street branch—Messrs. Hill and Co. keep an account there—I kuow the prisoner by sight—on 27th March, I received a credit slip—I do not know who brought it—this is it (produced)—I cannot tell whether the person wrote it there or had it ready written—(MR. HILL here stated that this was in the prisoner's writing)—I am able to tell from this credit slip what the sums paid in consisted of—it partly consisted of this cheque for 9l. 14s. (produced)—this cheque is the same amount and the same date—I received all the cheques together—I only mark the blue paper, but I have a separate book to myself, which nobody else uses, in which all credits are entered.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you seen any similar document to that written by the prisoner before? A. I have never seen him write a cheque—I do not know his writing—I do not remember having seen any cheque in the same writing brought to the bank.
WALTER JAMES TUCKER . I am an attorney, living at Chard, in Someraetshire, and am a customer of Messrs. Hills—on 16th March, 1861, I owed them 9l. 14s.—I had received this invoice (produced), and wrote a letter to Messrs. Hill, which I left with other letters to be posted in the ordinary course—the letters were gone away from that place next day—that letter contained a paper—I shortly afterwards received this document (produced)—(MR. HILL here staled that all the written part of this was in the prisoner's writing)—(Read: "London, 3, Old Broad-street; received, 19th March, 1861, of W. J. Tucker, Esq., 9l. 14s., for H. Hill, Brothers. F. B. Timewell.")
JAMES JOHN LAMBERT . I am clerk to Messrs. Humphreys & Morgan, the attorneys for the prosecution—on 13th August, I personally served with a notice to produce, of which this is a copy (This was a notice to product a letter sent to Messrs. Hill by Mr. Tucker, on 16th March, 1861, with an order for them to draw upon Robarts & Co., for 9l. 14s.)
W. J. TUCKER (re-examined). I have not got a copy of my letter—it informed Messrs. Hill that I had directed my bankers, Stuckey and Co., to pay them 9l. 14s. at Robarts & Co.'s, the amount of their bill against me, and I requested a receipt.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it paid through a bank? A. It came through the Union Bank.
MR. GIFFARD to CHARLES HILL. Q. You said before that there was no Mention of this cheque? A. There was no mention of any cheque at all from Mr. Tucker—the cash-book is not altogether in the prisoner's writing—this is it (produced)—some of these entries, on 20th March, are in the prisoner's writing, and some in my brother's—there is no credit given to us for 9l. 14s., nor is Tucker's name here at all—he has never given us credit for that sum.
Cross-examined. Q. Are there many entries that day? A. Ten.
COURT. Q. Does the sum of 9l. 14s. appear, both in the counterfoil and in the credit slip, in the prisoner's writing? A. In both—I never found by the books that we had got an overplus of 9l.; on the contrary, I balanced the cash-book with the other books and they both agreed.
MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES HILL . The prisoner was our clerk, at 150l. a year—in the cash book (produced) there are several entries, on the paid side, in his writing—on 23d June, 1862, he professes to have paid in country cheques amounting to 78l. 9s.—there are two columns, country cheques and bills, and a cash column, in which London cheques are included—the entries are 78l. 9s. country cheques 14l. 1s., 9l. 7s., 22l. 5s. 6d., and 14l. 15s. 6d.—the two columns are added up—one is 390l. 15s. 6d.; that includes the country cheques which I have just mentioned, amounting to 187l. 6d; that indicates that they have been paid into the bank—I did not see the prisoner that day—the entries that day are all in the prisoner's or my brother's writing.
SAMUEL MOORE MAXDERS . I am a clerk in the prosecutor's service—on 23d June, I lived at 10, Sussex-terrace, Haverstock-hill—that is the same house in which the prisoner lived—I received a bundle of papers from him, on 25th June, and gave them to Mr. Henry Hill in the same state in which I received them.
Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. Was the prisoner lodging in the same house with you on the 23d, 24th, and 25th? A. Yes—I saw him on the 24th—he was unwell, I believe, at that time—he did not ask me to take these cheques to the bank, and say that he had forgotten to take them himself—he asked me to take them and give them up to Mr. Hill—he did not tell me he intended to take them to the bank on the morning of the 24th, but was too ill to do so—no conversation passed between us abouf the cheques—his wife came into my room and asked me to come in to him—his wife spoke first—she said that there was a bundle of papers which her husband wanted me to take to Mr. Hill; and I refused—I told her I did not wish to have anything to do with the transaction whatever—I had heard that he wanted to see Mr. Hill, on some business, particularly—the business was not mentioned, but I heard it in the course of business—I knew that his wife had called at Mr. Hills, either on the 23d or 24th.
HENRY HILLS . I am senior partner in the firm—I recollect seeing the prisoner on the 23d, at our place of business—he was there the whole day—I made none of the entries in the cash-book, but my brother did—there was nothing to prevent the prisoner paying in these cheques if he was so disposed—he was there again on the morning of the 24th, at half-past 8; he was half an hour earlier than usual that morning—on the next day I received from Manders a roll of papers, among which were these five cheques—they are all payable to country bankers—a letter came on the 24th relative to an account which had been paid—I called his attention to it, and he said he was quite sure it had been paid—I desired him to open the ledger; he would not do so, but walked up stairs; and, on inquiry, I understood that he had gone to the doctor's—I went to the doctor's, and found he had not been there—he did not come back, but his wife brought a letter about 2 o'clock.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he look ill? A. No.
COURT. Q. Would the country cheques be entered in it? A. They would—country cheques have been paid, but none of these five—after I received them back I paid them into the bank—I endorsed one of them; that was after it came back from the prisoner—it was payable to order, and was for 14l. 1s.—another cheque for 14l. 15s. 6d., payable to order, had been endorsed by my brother Edward, previously—I know that, because I remember the circumstance; it is simply endorsed "Hill Brothers"—the others are all payable to bearer, except one, which was payable to our customer himself, who endorsed it, and which amounts to the same thing—it is for 48l. 2s. 6d.
JURY. Q. Were the receipts acknowledged on that day? A. On that and the previous day—the cheques were kept in a cash-book, and were put away securely at night—the key was under the prisoner's special charge.
GUILTY .—The prosecutors stated that their loss, as at present discovered, amounted to 900l., and that they were still receiving letters relating to fresh amounts.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. SLEIGH and GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN LOVELL DENNING . I am one of the clerks of the Provident Institution for savings, St. Martin's-lane—the Marquis of Lansdowne and others are trustees—persons deposit money there on the savings' bank principle—it is the course of business to give a deposit-book to every person depositing money there—in April, 1861, a person named Juste Masson deposited 20l., the amount being deposited, the depositor signs his name in a book—I give him a depositor's book with a number corresponding with the number of the entry, 179, 341, and I entered the 20l.
EDWARD BOODLE . I am secretary and comptroller of this Institution—it is unusual to require a week's notice of the withdrawal of any amount deposited, but there are special circumstances which cause me to waive that according to my own discretion—on Friday, 21st June, 1861, a person came to the bank with a deposit-book, and in consequence of what he said I dispensed with the usual week's notice—I believe the prisoner to be the person, but he has a beard now which he had not then—he said that he was leaving England on the following Monday: he produced a book, and said that he was the depositor and wished to have the money then—he spoke in broken English—I waived the usual notice and made this entry of the transaction, "179, 341, all, 20l., foreigner leaving England on Monday," and gave instructions to the ledger clerk to pay him the money.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. Was not something said about notice? A. He brought the book in to me from the office; the ordinary way would be to take the deposit-book to the counter, and if no notice had been given they would refuse to pay without referring to me—no notice was given, and the person in the office would tell the depositor to bring his book in to me—the prisoner came in with the deposit-book and I took it for granted, as he came into my room, that no notice had been given—he spoke broken English, but quite intelligible—I pledge myself to the exact words; I took them
down—it was, "Leaving England on Monday"—I did not pay the money myself.
BENJAMIN EDWARD BULT . I am one of the cashiers of the Provident Institution for savings, St Martin's-lane—on 21st June, 1861, I received directions from Mr. Boodle, in consequence of which I paid 20l. 1s. 11d. to some person who presented Juste Masson's book—I called the name, Juste Masson, and a person presented himself to me, I placed my book before him and he signed his name—I was not satisfied after comparing it with the original signature, and requested him to sign it again, he wrote it a second time, and I paid the amount with this 20l. note (produced) and 1s. 11d. in cash, the interest up to the day of drawing out the amount—the endorsement on this note, Dr., 21, 6, 61, is my writing—"Dr. means "Drummonds"—I had received it that morning from Messrs. Drummond.
Cross-examined. Q. I see the first signature is Masson Juste, and the second Juste Masson? A. Yes; I paid the money without notice, in consequence of what Mr. Boodle told me—20l. has since been placed to the credit of Juste Masson; the ledger will show the date—it was very probably as long afterwards as October or November—a claim was made by Juste Masson, and on the managers being satisfied they restored the amount by a cheque which passed into my hands, and was placed to his credit—I cannot give you the date of that—this "Duroy, 41, Haymarket," was not on it when I paid it away—I had referred to the book with the original signature.
COURT. Q. I see at the bottom of the receipt you have written the number and date, "63,946, April 8th," was that written at the time the receipt was signed? A. Yes; immediately before I handed him the 20l.—I know the note by my endorsement.
JURY. Q. On your referring to the original signature, did the person see it? A. No; and yet on the second writing it corresponded with the original—I think I have had instances before in which foreigners have signed their surnames first and their Christian names afterwards, therefore that circumstance did not strike me as at all suspicious—I always compare the signatures—I did not perceive so great a difference between the two, and the fact of the book being brought out of the comptroller's office, threw me off my guard.
Cross-examined. Q. And all the other writing that was on it? A. Not quite; this 24th June, '61, and two folios in the right-hand comer are the bank entry, and were not on it then, also the stamping—it was paid in by the Union Bank.
CHARLES REINHARDT . I am in the service of Rudolph Prommel, a money-changer of the Haymarket—on 22d June, 1861, this bank note was brought to be changed by a person who wrote on it, "Duroy, 41, Haymarket"—I think the prisoner is the person, but I will not swear to him—I knew the prisoner before—I have an entry of it in my book on that day.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know that he lodged at 41, Haymarket? A. Yes; right opposite to our place—I did not know his name, but I knew him by sight—we have got our private mark on it—I should not have changed it for an entire stranger, but I know him by sight.
JUSTE MASSON . (Through an interpreter.) I live at 11, Arundel-place—in April, 1861, I lived at 48, Haymarket, and on 15th or 16th April, I deposited some money in the Provident Institution—this is my signature in
the book—in May, 1861, I went to live at the Cafe Grec—the prisoner was one of the proprietors of that house—I had no position in the establishment at that time, I was merely lodging there—I went into the prisoner's service at, I think, the end of June—we were both lodging at the Cafe, and we slept in the same room—I kept my depositor's book in the bed-room; the prisoner found it there, and told me it was not prudent to leave it there—he asked me to give it to him to keep it, and he put it into his box for better security—I never saw it again—I asked him for it ten, fifteen, or twenty times—I recollect looking for the prisoner and not being able to find him; I do not remember when that was—I was in his service one or two months—I asked him for it while I was in his service as I wanted to give notice to draw the money out—he said that it was too late that night, and he would give it to me next morning, that was when he was living at the Cafe—I also asked him for it when he was living at Macclesfield-street—I went up to his room, and he put me off, but I insisted on having it, and told him if he did not give it to me I would have him taken in custody—he said that if I did such a thing he would break my neck—he never told me that he had drawn out my money himself—I heard it first from Mr. Wiskard the police inspector—I do not remember the date, but the next day or the day following, I went to the bank and saw Mr. Boodle—neither of the signatures in this signature book are written by me—I never authorized any one to sign them on my behalf—the prisoner owes me 6l. for money lent, also for a gold chain, and a hat and hat-box, but no wages—I lent him a great deal more money than 6l.—I had the money from the Cafe de Regence, and when I was at my uncle's I put money by.
Cross-examined. Q. Then the other money which has been lent the prisoner has been returned? A. Yes. and the 6l. is the balance owing to me—I lent him altogether from 25l. to 26l., and 6l. is the balance owing—we slept in the same room, and I was friendly with him, just as a waiter is friendly with his master—I had no salary; I was paid by fees by the customers—the prisoner had not left England when I went to the bank—the bank undertook to pay me the 20l. about eight or nine months ago—I received 8l. or 9l. at the bank, and they said that they would keep the other 10l. as security, I think; but I do not understand English well, and am unable to say—the prisoner lived in Macclesfield-street, two or three months—I will undertake to say that I did not authorize the prisoner to go to the bank and get this 20l. as a loan; I never knew he had drawn it out—the prisoner sold me a silver watch for 3l., and I took it in part payment of the debt—when he was in Macclesfield-street, he over and over again paid me different sums of money on account of the debt—I certainly pressed him for more money; I do not know whether he pawned his watch to let me have it—he did not send for me directly he came back to England—he did not call on ray brother, but my brother one day met him in the street—I did not hear from my brother that the prisoner was in London—the bank is prosecuting this case.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Was there anything to prevent you on 21st June, 1861, going to the Provident Institution yourself, if you wanted to take out the money? A. No—the last time I saw the prisoner he owed me 6l. in money, a gold chain, a hat, a hat-box, and a bank-book—I went with Thomas, the detective, to try to find him—I think that was in the same week that I gave information to the police—I heard it first from Mr. Reinhardt that the money had been drawn out, and I think it was in the same week I went with Thomas.
ICHAR FELIX . (Through an interpreter.) I live at 15, Grafton-place—I know the prisoner, and am acquainted with his writing—the word "Duroy" on this note is in the prisoner's writing—this "Masson, Juste" and "Juste Maason" in the signature-book is also his writing.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you any doubt at all about it? A. No; but still I cannot say that it was not written by somebody else—I have not corresponded with him, but I bought seventeen warrants of him and he signed his name in my presence—I also saw him on several occasions write at his own house.
LOUIS THOS DUROY . (Through an interpreter.) I know the prisoner by light—I met him at the bar of the Swiss Tavern, Old Compton-street, in October last—the prosecutor was not with him, but he came afterwards with another person; I think it was Captain Boutier, an old sailor—Masson said to the prisoner, who had several people with him, "I wish you would give me something"—the prisoner said, "I cannot give thee anything"—thee shows intimacy; "I have sold my wine, and as soon as I have delivered it I shall settle all affairs with thee"—Masson then said, "Thou cannot give me any money, at least return my book, because I have money, and can fetch some from the bank"—the prisoner replied, "Thy book; I will give the book to thee when thou like, if" so and so, naming the servant, "was not out, I would go now and fetch it at once; come to-morrow morning and thou will have it, but do not do as usual, because thou always comest too late"—this was all said near the door, and I was close to it; they spoke father loud so that I could hear.
Cross-examined. Q. Was this in October? A. I think it was in the first fortnight in October—two or three other persons were present—it was about 7 in the evening; it was raining—I am a cork-maker, with a machine, with my brother-in-law, who is a German—I am not a friend of Masson's; I do not know him, but I have seen him several times at the restaurant—I did not see Masson for a very long time afterwards; perhaps I may have seen him, but did not speak to him, except "Good day."
ALEXANDER MASSON . I am the prosecutor's brother—I have applied to the prisoner for my brother's bank-book—the last time was in May, 1861—I went to Macclesfield-street in May or June, and asked the prisoner for the money belonging to my brother, and the book—he said, "I have no money; tell thy brother to call himself, and if I have any I will give it to him; he bothers me about his book, does he think I will eat it?"
Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. No—I did not ask for any sum; I said what money he could give, as my brother wanted some money—I am a cook in the Haymarket—I saw the prisoner one day in this year, four or five months ago, and he told me he had come from America—he asked me how I was, and bow my brother was—he said, "I will call on your brother," and before going away he said, "Do not tell anybody that thou sawest me"—he did not call at the cafe; it was in Cranbourn-street—he came up and spoke to me—he did not tell me at that time that he had called at my place to see me—I told my brother that I had met him—I do not know when he was taken.
Cross-examined. Q. What was the first time? A. On Saturday, 26th October, I traced him from his lodging in Macclesfield-street, to a coffee-house in Tower-hill—the first day I began to look for him was 26th October.
JAMES THOMPSON . I am one of the detective officers of the Metropolitan police—I took the prisoner on 8th July this year—I asked him if his name was Duroy—he replied, "I do not speak English"—I put the question in French, and he said, "Yes; it is"—I said, "You are charged with forging the name of Juste Masson, and obtaining the sum of 20l."—he replied, "It is a very dirty trick; we were so intimate, I thought I might sign his name."
Cross-examined. Q. Did you receive instructions from the bank to take him? A. Through Inspector Whiskard.
MR. GIFFARD to EDW. BOODLE. Q. Can you give us the date when the prosecutor came to the bank on the last occasion when Whiskard was employed? A. The latter end of October or the beginning of November; it was before 5th November, and within a week of the 5th, because our board of managers meet every week, and on 5th November it was reported to the committee.
COURT. Q. When the 20l. 1s. 11d. was paid, was the depositor's book given up to the bank or taken away by the person who brought it? A. Taken away by the person who brought it, and I have never seen him since—when Juste Masson applied for the money he did not produce a book, but we gave him a duplicate book as we knew all the circumstances—the case was brought before the committee, who directed that the amount should be restored, and a new book given to him; that was because we believed his story.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. GRESHAM conducted the Prosecution.
MERION PERIRA . I am a Portuguese, and am cook and steward of the steam packet Pitchipatan—on 7th August, about half-past 4 in the afternoon, I was in High-street, Whitechapel, with Laurence Perez—I had a watch in my left-hand waistcoat pocket, with a guard twisted round it—there were two men behind us, one of whom took it out of my pocket and ran across the road—I attempted to follow him, but the prisoner ran at me and held me tight, saying, "What is the matter?"—I asked him to let me go as I wanted to catch that man, but he would not until the man was gone, and then he wanted to run away, but I held him tight by the coat—he struck me three or four times on the face and shoulders—he pulled his coat off as I held it, but I held him by the neck, and gave him in custody.
Prisoner. Q. How many yards was it from the crowd where you lost your watch, till you ran against me? A. About as far as from you to me now—you took me over to Whitechapel pump, when you wanted to get away—that was not 300 or 400 yards from where I had you by the neck—you had a big bundle of clothes under your arm, which you gave to your friend, who I did not see before that.
LAURENCE PEREZ . I am steward of the ship Pitchipatan—on the afternoon of 2d August, I was in Whitechapel-road with Perira; somebody took his watch and ran away—the prisoner did not want him to be taken, and came up, threw his bundle into the road, and held Perira, who held him by the neck—I got a policeman and gave him in charge.
Prisoner. Q. What did you tell the inspector that you had to say against me? A. That you would not let Perira go after the man who took the watch, and that you gave him two or three blows—I did not say that you grabbed the watch, and took it.
about half-past 4, I was watching a crowd in Whitechapel, and saw the prosecutor and the prisoner run across the street—the prosecutor held his arm round the prisoner's neck, and gave him into my custody for stealing his watch—blood was coming out of the prosecutor's mouth, and his back was all dirt where he had been down in the street.
Prisoner. Q. Did not the prosecutor, when the inspector asked him whether I took his watch, look at me and say, "He grab and took the watch?' A. No; he said that your chummy took it, and that you passed your bundle to your chummy.
Prisoner's Defence. I had taken a drop of drink, but I had my senses about me; I saw the prosecutor run out of the crowd, and I ran and said to him, "What is the matter?"—he said, "I have lost my watch;" I said, "Let us go and try to catch him;" we ran across to the pump, side by side, and when he could not find the man he said, "You know something about it;" he took me to the pump; my bundle was snatched from under my arm, and I did turn round savagely and hit him, because I had lost my bundle; I am as innocent as a baby unborn.
COURT to MERION PERIRA. Q. Where was it you lost your watch? A. Near a cook's shop—the place where I was holding the prisoner when the policeman came up, was at the corner of Commercial-street—the cook's shop is on the opposite side of the road to Commercial-street—there were no crossings between the cook's shop and the place where I was holding the prisoner—from that spot to the other is about as far as from here to the top of the Old Bailey; I mean the Fleet-street end—he took me as far as that because he wanted to run away.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD BARUCH . I am a clerk in the London Docks, and live at 92, Pennington-street, St. George's in the East—on Thursday, 31st July, between 10 o'clock and half-past, I was coming through Pennington-court, and two men rushed out, one caught me behind and the other in front—the one behind caught me round the neck with both hands, while the other tried to get my watch out of my pocket, but I put my arm on it and he could not get it without tearing my pocket to pieces—he did tear my pocket, and took my watch—it was silver, and was worth 2l. 10s.—I have never seen it since—the prisoner is the man who was behind and squeezed ray neck tightly—I had a stick with me, with which I struck the man in front—my guard chain broke—the men ran away—I tried to hit the man in front but could not, because the man behind gave me an extra twist, and I could not move—I turned round quickly and saw the prisoner's face—there were two large lamps, one at a public-house, and the other at a sugar-baker's—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man—they ran straight down the street and turned down the last turning—that is in the direction of Wellclose-square—the one who had been in front of me, and who took my watch, ran first—I halloed out, "Stop thief!" and in ten minutes or a quarter of an hour saw the prisoner in custody.
JOHN CHATLEY (Policeman, H 212). On the night of 31st July, I was on duty in St. George's-street, Artichoke-hill—I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and saw the prisoner and another man run across St. George's-street into Wellclose-square—I kept sight of the prisoner for about six hundred yards—I was very near him, and as I was in the act of reaching him I stumbled and fell—the man ran into Cable-street.
GEORGE FOSTER (Policeman, H 207). I was on duty in Wellclose-square, and saw Chatley fall when chasing two men—I continued the chase, and gained on them—the hindmost one turned the corner and went into a barber's shop, kept by Mr. Livingston, and the door was closed—I saw him go in.
ROBERT LIVINGSTON . I am a barber, of 51, Cable-street—on the night of 13st July, the prisoner came into my shop as if he had been running—one man got up off a chair, and the prisoner sat down quick—I got 1d. from him and was just shutting the door, when the policeman came in, and a City-policeman took him in custody.
JURY. Q. How long was it between the time the prisoner came in and the policeman coming in? A. About a minute—I had time to lather him, but had not begun to shave him.
GEORGE FOSTER (re-examined.) The prisoner said that he knew nothing about it—I did not wait outside the shop any time—the door was closed—I first went and looked into the court, which is at the back of the place, and them looked into the barber's shop, and identified the man sitting in the chair, and took him in custody.
Prisoner's Defence. It is no good my talking with three or four police witnesses against me; but I know no more about that gentleman's watch than these gentleman here do.
GUILTY .*†— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, August 21st, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. SALOMONS, M.P.; Mr. Ald. GIBBONS; and Mr. COMMON
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
861. THOMAS RYAN ( ), Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Abraham Grout, and stealing therein a watch, value 2l. and other goods value together 3l. and 1s. in money, his property; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been before convicted.
WILLIAM NORMAN (Policeman, H 171). I produce a certificate (Read: "Central Criminal Court, July, 1839, Thomas Drew convicted, on his own confession, of larceny.—Confined Eight Months.")—I was present at the trial of the person there named—the prisoner is the person—he was then tried under the name of Thomas Drew—I also had him in custody when he was tried at Clerkenwell and acquitted—I am sure of him.
GUILTY.**†—Charles Baker, a City-policeman, and Peter Gellatly, H 159, stated that the prisoner was one of the most notorious thieves in London, and was associated with a notorious gang of burglars.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
862. FREDERICK KING (26), JOHN BUCKETT (17), and JOHN PALMER (19) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Robert Kingsford, and stealing therein 2 chains, a key, a desk, a chisel, a loaf of bread, and half a pound of cheese, his property; to which JOHN BUCKETT PLEADED GUILTY, and to having been before convicted.
Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. DICKIE and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT KINGSFORD . I am a sorter in the General Post-Office, and reside at 5, Brunswick-place, City-road, in the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch—about 4 o'clock on the morning of 5th July last I was awoke—I jumped out of bed, when I heard a noise and screaming from below—I ran downstairs—my son was outside the door—I went to the front door, and saw the prisoner Buckett down in the area—there were several people standing outside the front door, and among them I saw King—I am quite certain he was outside the door—this key (produced) is one of mine—I made in partly myself—it is an old key, and I filed it down to this form—it was in my wife's possession the night previous to the robbery—I cannot swear that I saw her with it—I will swear it is my key.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON (for King). Q. It opens the door, I suppose? A. Yes—I should say there were about six or seven others outside at the time I saw King—they were looking at the man lying down at the bottom of the area—he had more the appearance of being stunned than asleep—some said he was asleep, but he was not, because my son had knocked him down—there was a good deal of talking going on amongst the people—they were calling to him to see if there was anything wrong with him, telling him to get up—there is a coffee-shop directly opposite us—I believe some of the people had come from there—it is open all night—King does not live there, but he is there occasionally—I believe he was there that night—I think his carpet-bag was at another house, not there—I am given to understand that this key opens his carpet-bag—King and the other persons had the appearance of having just come out of the coffee-shop.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER (for Palmer). Q. You saw only two men, I believe? A. Only two at first, but several afterwards—I did not notice Palmer among them.
LIBERTY CAIUS KINGSFORD . I am a sorter in the General Post-Office, and reside at No. 6, Brunswick-place, City-road—on Friday night, 4th July, I went to bed about 10 o'clock—the house was then secure—I was sleeping in the back kitchen—about 4 o'clock I heard a noise in the front kitchen—I thought it was one of my parents down stairs—I listened very attentively, and heard apparently a cupboard close—I listened further, and heard voices in the kitchen—I thought they were strange voices, and I got out of bed, and heard something like as if a lock was being torn off the door—I then went to the door, and wanted to know who was there, and I heard shifting of feet in the kitchen—I had no answer, and I called to my father three or four times, and listened to him to answer me—I got no answer, and I heard a shutting of the window, like a sudden blow against the window—I made sure the person had gone out through the front of the railings, so I went through the passage, and up stairs to the front door, and found Buckett in the act of jumping into the street over the rails—I laid hold of him, and told him to go back, to go down—he refused to do so, and I had a rather severe struggle with him—at last I made him go down to the bottom of the area—while I was struggling with him Palmer came, and said, "Leave him alone," and threatened to throw me over—about the time Buckett fell down, others came up—Palmer hit me—I felt a poking, and I had a knock at the back and in the side—I swear most positively to Palmer's being the man—other persons then came round, and being nearly naked and used very roughly, I went indoors—I am positive that Palmer is the man who was pushing me—my father examined the kitchen before me—he had come down to the front door when I went in—I afterwards examined the kitchen—there was nothing
particular the matter with the window that looks into the area, but the shutter had been forced open, and the shutter-fastening was broken—the window was open—I examined the kitchen-door; the lock had been thoroughly broken off—there bad been a cash-box on the dresser that evening, and I found the hinges of it broken, forced—there were many different certificates in it the evening before, a gold chain and a plated chain, and some seals and keys—they were gone—I found that a piece of cheese had been taken away—on the table I found a loaf of bread tied in a cloth—the value altogether of the property which I missed is about 30s. or 40s.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Had you known or seen Palmer before? A. No—I saw him outside the area on this night—he was close to me, about two feet distant—from the first time I saw him I was as positive as I am now that he was the man—I first saw him at Worship-street Police-court, after the occurrence—he had a wide-awake hat on then—I cannot swear to his coat; he had not that jacket on, nor that tie round his neck—I cannot say what he had round his neck, but I noticed his eyes and his face very well—most wide-awakes have a small band round them and a broad brim, rather sloping in front—I have not since said to my brother, or anybody, that I had great doubt as to whether Palmer was the man, nor anything like it—I never expressed doubt to anybody—I have said that I am sure he is the man, and am still of that opinion—I went to the House of Detention to see Buckett, and had a talk with him—I was requested by a friend of his to go there with a shirt for him—I was with him from five to ten minutes—I asked him who was with him on the night of the burglary, and had an answers—I afterwards went and saw Palmer there, and had a talk with him—Buckett had written for a shirt, and I went to take it to him—I got admittance, and then I thought I should like to have a word or two with Palmer—I wanted to have a look at him.
MR. COLLINS. Q. And when you did see him, were you satisfied he was the man? A. Yes.
CHARLES THOMAS PARKINSON . I am a book-keeper, and live at the residence of the last witness—on the morning of 4th July I heard Mr. Kingsford, junior, crying, "Father! father!" and I jumped up, put my trousers on, ran to the front door, and saw Buckett down the area apparently asleep, and King and Palmer outside the railings in the street—I afterwards went in to the front parlour again, and put on my boots—I heard some one say, "Make haste; there's plenty of time"—I immediately rushed out again to the front door, and saw the prisoner Buckett just at the top of the railings, and King and Palmer seemed as if they were assisting him—they got him over the railings, and all three ran down the street—I ran after them, and tried to take hold of Buckett, but I was intercepted by King and Palmer—Palmer said be would kick my b—y guts out, and King said he would knock my b—y head off—Buckett escaped at last—I said at the time, "If you won't allow me to capture Buckett, I shall take particular notice of all three, so that I may be able to identify you in case of necessity."
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Were there not a number of other people with King and Palmer when you came out? A. About five or six others.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. How far were you off these men when you saw them this night at first? A. Not above four or five yards, I should think—I did not take particular notice of how Palmer was dressed—he
had a deer-stalking or wide-awake hat, a dark one—that is the only part of his dress which I noticed—I took more notice of his features, and of King's as well.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Were King and Palmer the only people assisting Buckett? A. They only people that I could see assisting him.
GEORGE SMITH (Policeman, N 99). On the morning after this burglary, I went into the prosecutor's kitchen, and found this box broken open, and this piece of iron, which had been used to wrench the kitchen-door open, down by the side of the window-sill; and this chisel, which I compared with the marks on the side of the door, and I found them correspond.
CALEB CORVILLE (Policeman, G 90). I took King in custody in Brunwick-place, City-road, on the morning of 5th July, about 4 o'clock—I took him to the station, searched him, and found on him three keys and some little trinkets—I asked him what keys they were—he said two of them were those of his trunk—I asked him what this key was, and he said, "A latch-key."
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was it at the coffee-shop that you took him? A. No; in the street, near the coffee-shop—he had not been living there—he had been there during the morning—I did not find that he had been there the day before—I did not make inquiries—this key opens his portmanteau—when I took him he was about forty or fifty yards from the coffee-shop, standing in front of No. 5, the house that was broken into—I cannot say what he was looking at; he was loitering about—I did not go into the coffee-shop; another constable went in, and I stood outside at the door—that was before I took him—I went there to search the house, to see if either could be identified—I did not know who it was before I went there—I went there for somebody—the sergeant made inquiry whether he lived there—the sergeant found this key which opens his lodgings.
ANN KINGSFORD . I am the prosecutor's wife—this key is similar to the key that I left on the kitchen table the night before the robbery—it is just like the same key—the key that I left there was gone the next morning.
MR. COOPER called the following witnesses.
JOHN PALMER . I am the father of the prisoner Palmer, and am a carman at a corn-chandler's shop—I have been in that employment 24 years next November—my son has been principally working in pie-shops and eating-houses—he has been away from home, because he has been boarding and lodging at different places—I recollect Friday, 4th July—he had been away some little time, and he came home on the Thursday previous to that Friday—he was in and out all the afternoon of the Friday, and came in the last time at twenty minutes before 11 o'clock—I saw him in bed the next morning—he slept with his brother, who is outside, and another brother—I am quite sure of that.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. Where had he been working before this Thursday? A. He had not done any work for some little time before that—he had been away from me for four months—I did hear where he was during that time, but I did not see him—I believe he had not done any work during the whole of those four months—the first I heard of this robbery was when Mr. Kingsford called at my house on the Saturday—the examination before the Magistrate was on the following Monday at Worship-street—I did not give the evidence before the Magistrate that I have given to-day; they did not allow me the privilege to speak one word—there are plenty present to-day who know that neither I nor the boy had the chance of speaking there—I have been working at Mr. Smith's, the corn-chandler's, in the Kent-road—I have six children—the one that the prisoner slept with
works at Mr. Watkins, a bookbinder's, in Suffolk-street—he went there, I think, somewhere about Christmas, but I really cannot tell for a certainty—I was up when the prisoner came in on 4th July, at twenty minutes before 11 o'clock—I noticed the time, because I have a clock, up stairs and down, and that is about our time of going to bed—I was sitting smoking my pipe in the kitchen when he came in—I work till between 9 and 10 o'clock—he did not go to bed before me; we went up together—we have two bedrooms for ourselves, and one which I let to a person that is outside, and the boys slept in a little room over the kitchen—they must come through the bedroom where I sleep; the door is just by my bedside and opens into the kitchen, and they cannot come in or go out of that room without my seeing them—I heard that my son went to Wandsworth for three months out of the four during which I said he had not been working—I believe he came out of Wandsworth gaol the morning before I saw him.
EMMA PALMER . I am the prisoner Palmer's mother—I remember Friday night, 4th July—he came home that night, and went to bed with his brother—I saw him the next morning—what I am saying is quite true—I remember two gentlemen coming to take him up; that recalled the fact to my mind—they called on Sunday, the 6th, the day after; and I offered to show them the bed he had slept in—I went to the station, and before the Magistrate twice, but was not examined—there was no attorney there, and I was not called.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. When did you see this son of yours last before this Friday night, 4th July? A. On Thursday—I had not seen him before that for three months—he had not been working for any employer during those three months—he came in about half-past 10 o'clock that evening—we were all up—there was a bazaar at the school, and he was one that carried the flags in—my husband and one son first went up to bed together, and then another son and this one; and I was the last, because I always bolt the door—I am quite sure this was on the Friday night, not Thursday.
ROBERT PALMER . I am the brother of the prisoner Palmer—I remember Friday night, 4th July—he was at home during the day, and he came in at twenty minutes to 11, and went to bed at 11 o'clock with me, and slept with me the whole night—I left him at 6 o'clock in the morning in bed—I am at Mr. Watkins, a bookbinder, and have been with him six months.
Cross-examined. Q. Had the prisoner stayed at home the whole of that day? A. Yes—I was not at home all day—I cannot say for certain what time he went out in the evening—I was not at home when he went out—I came home about 9 o'clock—I slept in the room over the kitchen, in the same bed as the prisoner—I first heard of the robbery when I came home on Saturday evening—my mother told me of it—a gentleman had been round and told her of it—I am quite sure it was Saturday evening—he got up about 7 o'clock that morning—I was at work—I got up just before 6 o'clock—I woke about 5 o'clock in the night—the prisoner was then asleep—he slept with me the night before also, the Thursday night, in the same bed—I swear that—I cannot recollect whether he slept with me on the Wednesday night—he did on the Saturday night, but not on Sunday night—he was taken in custody on the Sunday—it was a little better than three months, I think, since I had seen him previous to this Thursday.
MR. COOPER. Q. Do you go out to work all day? A. Yes—I come home at all manner of times in the evening.
COURT. Q. Do you know Buckett? A. Yes; and my brother knows him by sight—they are companions; they used to live together.
MARY ANN BAGSHAWE . I am a lodger at Palmer's house—on Friday night, a few minutes before 11 o'clock, I saw John Palmer come into the house—I saw him go up to bed with his brother—he was in the house at 11 o'clock—I saw him on Saturday morning between 7 and 8 o'clock—my room is one aide of the passage, and theirs on the other.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. What are you? A. I do needlework or take in washing—whatever I can get to do, since I have lost my husband.
MR. RIBTON called the following witnesses.
GEORGE FIELD . I am a musician—I play an accordion—I know the coffee-shop opposite to where the man was down the area—I was in the coffee-shop that morning when it took place—King was there that morning, and several other persons—they were sitting down, and I was playing, getting a far coppers—I went in about 1 o'clock to have a cup of tea—I saw the prisoner come in at 1 o'clock—I stayed there till this affair occurred at the area—I was not playing quire all the time—the prisoner was there from 1 o'clock till the time when the man was down the area—there were about a dozen others in the coffee-shop—the landlord went to put up the blind at the window, as the daylight was coming in; and he hallooed out, "Come, and look here" twice; so we all went outside to look, and saw a man outside in the road in his shirt, with the prisoner that got into the house—I do not know the names of the prisoners—we came out to see what was the matter—I went over to the area, and saw a man fall down the area—King came out with us—I looked over the area, and saw the man lying at the bottom—we thought he was dead; we called out, and he did not answer, and then the prosecutor went in to put his trousers on—we all remained there while he went in—I stayed there about six or seven minutes, I should think it was—I did not see the man helped over the area; I was standing at the side on the step, at the time, looking over; all the others were in front—I saw him get over the area without assistance—he got on the top of the railings, fell all amongst the people in the front, and then ran away—King went after him, and so did I and two or three more, to see what was the matter; we did not interfere—we all went back to the coffee-shop—King went back with us—the policeman came into the coffee-shop, and King was there—he went out with them, and went over to the prosecutor's house with them—he was taken in custody then—I think it was about half-past 4 in the morning, or a quarter to 5; not at 12 o'clock—the constables did not take him in custody at first—King went outside, and went over to the house with them, and then when they came out and shut the door I saw the policeman have hold of him.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. Had you ever seen King before? A. Never—I am quite sure nobody assisted Buckett over the railings—he got over himself—I saw Kingsford run after him—I and King, and two or three more, ran after him—I did not see King strike Mr. Kingsford—there was one chap hitting out—I was about a dozen yards behind Buckett; I was farther behind than the others—I had my instrument on my back—I never saw Buckett before—I did not know King before; I might have seen him in a house where I was playing before, but I did not recognise him—no one came into the coffee-house after King, except one now and then to have a cup of coffee—I saw King come in at 1 o'clock; he went and sat in the landlady's parlour; I was in the shop—I next saw him when he came out and sat by the side of me.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Are you sure he is the man? A. Yes; I am certain he is the same man—I have no doubt about him.
COURT. Q. Is there a side door to the house? A. Yes.
JAMES HILLYER . I am a tobacco pipe manufacturer, and live at 46, Cow-cross—I went into this coffee-shop on the night in question, at about 2 o'clock, I suppose—I had been to the Eagle Theatre—I saw King at the coffee-shop taking refreshment—I saw the last witness there with the accordion—I had been there about two hours or two hours and a half when I heard of the disturbance—the landlord of the coffee-house went to the window to draw up the blind, and as soon as he got to the window he said, "Look here, look here," and with that I ran to the window, and saw a man in his shirt, and a man inside the railings—I and a great many of them ran out and went over to the railings—King was amongst us—I saw the man lying at the bottom of the area; the man in the shirt had left the railings then—some were asking the one in the area what was the matter with him—he jumped over the railings amongst a lot of them, and partly on me—the man then came out of the house with his trousers half on and half off—there was a little chaff about his coming out with his shirt on—he ran down the street—I am quite sure King was in the coffee-house when I went in, and he was there when I went out—I am sure he was it the coffee-house from the time I went in till the landlord pulled up the blind—he was sitting it the same table with me; I was smoking a cigar—I am quite sure he went among the rest and looked over the railings—I saw him come back to the coffee-shop after the man had escaped over the railings—he came in with me and others—I was present when the policeman came in; he did not take him in the coffee-house—King went out afterwards, and they had some altercation there.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you in the habit of staying in coffee-houses all night? A. Occasionally I am—when I went out I saw the man lying in the area—I saw no one assist him—I do not recollect seeing Palmer—I did not speak to King; I had no occasion to—he was smoking a cigar at the same table in the shop that I was.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Are you quite sure he is the man? A. Yes; quite certain—I never knew him before, and have no object in telling anything but what is the truth—the father has been trying to find me for this month as a witness—I was subpoenaed here.
KING— NOT GUILTY .
PALMER— GUILTY .
Palmer was further charged with having been before convicted on 4th April, 1862, in the name of John Williams, at Southtwark police-court; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.
Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM GRIMSON . I am a clerk, and live at 25, Milton-crescent, Euston-square—at half-past 1, on the morning of 29th July, I was going home along Tottenham-court-road—O'Brien came up to me and made some remark—I told her to get away, as I wanted to get home, or something to that effect—she came up again, and tried to force a conversation on me, and tried to stop me—I pushed her away then, and told her I did not want to have anything to say to her—she then called out something, I cannot say what, and the male prisoner came up—the female was on my right, and had put her left arm round my waist—Cotter directly struck at me with his fist, and knocked my hat off—O'Brien pushed or struck me in the breast, I am
not certain which, and I staggered up against the shutters of a house—that was after my hat had fallen to the ground—I called out "Police," and saw the policeman come from over the way—I said, "Police, protect me"—I called out as loud as I could, and he came up; he had been on the other side, and had seen the assault—the prisoners ran away before he got up to them—I should say it was about four or five minutes, or not so long, from when O'Brien spoke to me to the time when they both ran away—I am certain they are the persons.
O'Brien. Q. Did not you ask me to go and get some gin? A. I did not—I was not going across with you to have some, nor did I meet a policeman—I did not see any policeman standing at the corner of Tottenham-place—I did not see you running across the road.
COURT. Q. Was Cotter drunk? A. I did not see enough of him to say—I saw him at the station-house—he was not so drunk, I should say, but what he knew what he was about.
EDWARD FISHER (Police-sergeant, E 32). On the morning of, 29th July, I was on duty in Tottenham-court-road, and heard a cry of "Police"—I immediately went down to the corner of Tottenham-place, and when about twelve or sixteen yards from there I saw the two prisoners holding the prosecutor—the female was on his right, with one hand across, and in the direction of his watch; the other was apparently behind him—Cotter was on his left—when I got to the corner O'Brien had struck the prosecutor, and he staggered up against the shutters—Cotter struck him on the head, and his hat fell off—the moment they saw me they both ran away together—I followed them into Fitzroy-market, and apprehended O'Brien in Old-brook-walk there—I brought her back to the prosecutor, and he directly said, "That is the woman"—I gave information to policeman, E 132, of Cotter, and took the woman to the station.
O'Brien. Q. Were we not sitting down at a street door together? A. No; you were standing against the wall just before you came to your own house; that was just before I took you—Cotter escaped directly he saw me come down the place.
Cotter. Q. Was not I sitting down by a door? A. I did not see you.
COURT. Q. Did you see him run? A. Directly he saw me come down Oldbrook-walk he got up and ran away into the house; I believe there is a back way of getting from one house to the other.
JOHN OUTRED (Policeman, E 132). In consequence of information I took Cotter in custody, about half-past 2 on Tuesday morning, 29th July—he was in a public-house—I pushed the door aside, called him out, and said, "Look here, Jack, I take you into custody for assaulting a man, and attempting to rob him"—he said, "All right, master; thank the old woman for this; if she had not called me I should not have been there."
(O'Brien's statement before the Magistrate toot here read as follows: "It is all false; the man says I was not there before.")
O'Brien's Defence. What they have been stating is all false.
Cotter's Defence. If I had robbed the man, why should I go and stop in a public-house after having done so?
O'BRIEN— GUILTY .**
COTTER— GUILTY .
Confined Eighteen Months' Each.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN TYRRELL (Policeman, M 163). On 18th July, I saw the prisoners in Union-street, at a quarter past 4 in the morning, walking together—I observed that Ellman had something in his pockets—they saw me, and both tried to get out of my way—I succeeded in taking Ellman—the other man shaped—another constable pursued him—I found this tin box (produced) on Ellman, containing 7l., all in threepenny-pieces, loose in the box, without any paper—I also found 1l. 5s. 4d. in old coppers, in this handkerchief—I asked him what he had, and he said, "Nothing"—at the station I asked him where he had got it—he said a man gave it to him on London-bridge to carry—I said, "Where did he tell you to carry it to?"—he said, "He told me to follow him"—I said, "Where is he gone to?"—he said, "I don't know; I have lost him"—that is all that passed.
Regan. Q. What turning did this man take out of Union-street? A. Down Whitecross-street, and I followed—you had on a black coat, and a Guernsey under it, and cord trousers.
COURT. Q. Had you known him before? A. Yes; for two or three months—I am quite sure he is the man.
HENRY HACKETT (Policeman, M 176). On Friday morning, the 18th, I was in Mint-street, Borough, and saw the prisoners together coming out of King-street into Mint-street—I stopped them, and found this tin box on Ellman—I did not see the other constable there—I put my hand in Ellman's pocket, and asked him what this was—he said, "Nothing"—I did not take it out then—the other constable came out of King-street, and I gave Ellman to him to take to the station, while I pursued Regan, who had run up Mint-street and got away altogether—I next saw him on the following Wednesday, in the Duke's Head public-house, in Redcross-street—I went into the room, and told him I wanted him for being concerned with little Bill in a tin box robbery over the water, on Friday morning—he said, "You are mistaken"—I said, "No, I am not"—policeman, M 163, asked him where he was that night, and he said he was at work at the water side from 12 o'clock on Thursday till 2 o'clock on the Friday morning—I took him in custody—I am certain he is the man—I knew him before.
Ellman. He took us down to the station. Witness. I took neither to the station on the Friday; I went in pursuit of Regan.
JOHN RICHARDS . I keep the Town of Ramsgate public-house, 280, High-street, Wapping—on the 17th I went to bed, having closed my house in the usual way—this box is mine—it was on the shelf in the bar-parlour on that night—I cannot say exactly the sum of money that was in it, but it was all in threepenny-pieces, of which there was a great quantity—it might have been as much as 7l.—I had some old copper money in a cupboard under the counter, and in the morning I missed it—I could not swear to it—all that is produced is old—I was collecting the old separately—I am positive that some one got in from the cellar flap—it was shut down the night before in the usual manner—I cannot swear that it was bolted, but I think it was—in the morning I found the tools down in the cellar—they must have got in and out that way; there is no other way by which they could have got in—I am positive it was closed.
Ellman's Defence. This man stopped me and asked me to cary the box. I did not know what was in it at the time. He gave me some coppers for Myself, and when I got further on he gave me the handkerchief to carry.
Regan's Defence. I was never in this man's company in my life; no one can prove I was. The policeman has seen me several nights since in Mint-street,
and would not take me; and now he says he took me one afternoon. He knows where I live, and everything else.
HENRY HACKETT (re-examined). I did not see him between the night that I lost him, and the time when I took him in the public-house—it its not true that I was talking with him on the night of the 18th—I was looking for him.
ELLMAN— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
RYAN— GUILTY .**—He was further charged with having been convicted of felony in March, 1858; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
TOMLICK PLOWER . I am a labourer, living at Elstree, which is close to Brockley-hill—I worked at hay-making at Mr. Partridge's, and the prisoners worked there also for two or three days—on Friday, 1st August, I was discharged, and received my wages at the time—at sunset that day, when it was getting dark, I went to Herrington's public-house, at Brockley-hill—the prisoners were there when I went in—I had a pint of beer, and took out my purse when I paid for it—Williams saw all that was in my purse—I do not know exactly what time I left the public-house, but it was about half-past 10 when I went there—I was not in there more than a few minutes, and then I walked out again—the prisoners followed me out—I was going down to my master's place, and they came out after me, and John Williams said, "Come along," and the three dragged me to a pond there, and knocked me down; I got up, and then John Williams knocked me down again—I got up again, and he said, "If I can't do it, I will stick him with a knife"—I was calling for help, and I was knocked down again—I got no assistance, and John Williams took hold of me by the neck and choked me that I could not speak; the others then took hold of me, one on each side, and he put one hand on my neck, and with the other took all the money out of my pocket, and they all went away—when Williams threatened to use the knife, he took a knife from a case and opened it—he took it out of his trousers pocket—this (produced) is it—during this time the others were kicking me, and I was calling out "Help!" and fighting—the police at Elstree heard me, and were coming down—after being robbed I met with my mate, Patrick Berry—I afterwards met with two police constables—I saw the three prisoners next day at the station—I am sure they are the same three men—I did not go to Mr. Partridge's place since I was robbed.
John Williams. Q. How much money had you when you went into the public-house? A. I had 30s. in gold there, and also 1s. 1d., my master gave it me, and I bought some bread and a pint of beer—I did not finish the pint—I was about six or seven yards or better from the beer-shop when you came and took hold of me and dragged me off—there was a house full of people at the beer shop—you did not speak loud when you said you would stick me with the knife—I gave information to the constable the same night—I and the other man both went together—I was as sober as I am now—I had not a quarrel nor a fight at the beer-shop—I had not a large candlestick out in the road fighting with.
David Williams. Q. How did I catch hold of you? A. You took hold of my right hand.
PATRICK BERRY . I am a labourer, and have worked at Mr. Partridge's the last two summers—I knew the prisoners before Friday, 1st August; the two brothers worked at Mr. Partridge's farm—I met them on this night in the beer-shop at Brockley-hill—I afterwards saw the prosecutor; I met him on the road as I was coming home, and I afterwards met two policemen while I was with him, but he was on before me, for I had had a kick on the hip and could not well keep up with him.
Hartigan. Q. Did Plower swear at the Court that he went out at 4 o'clock in the morning? A. He did not; it was more than he could do, for we were both together that night at half-past 10—I was not fighting with anybody that night, only when I had a little scrape from the two Williams's.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Did they meet you in the road? A. Yes; the two Williams's and this man after robbing Plower, robbed me of 14s.—I came out of the beer-shop and counted my 14s.—I had a black pair of trousers, and I put the little bag containing the money down the front of my trousers a far as I could, and as I went home David Williams said, "Come on, we will have a smoke with a pipe"—I went down with them, and I was going to return back, when the two Williams's threw me down on my face and kinds in the road, and then turned me on my back, and David Williams put one hand on my mouth and took the little bag containing my money—I caught hold of it with my left band and held it as long as I could—John Williams gave me a kick—after I had been robbed I stood up and listened, and heard a footstep, and I went towards it, and met Plower and spoke to him.
David Williams. Q. How many yards from the beer-shop did I knock you down? A. About 500 yards—I do not know whether it was one or two days that you worked at my master's—I do not know why you left—I never remember your sleeping in the barn—I did not bring any bad characters in there.
GEORGE HINCKS (Policeman, S 143). I was on duty on Friday night, 1st June, and heard a hallooing in the direction of Brockley-hill—I went towards it, and hearing footsteps I got in the hedge, and I heard one of the witnesses make a statement to the other—they afterwards made a statement to me, and next day I took the three prisoners in custody together at Elstree—I told them I should take them for highway robbery—I asked them where they were last night—they said, "At Edgeware"—I asked them if they were not at Elstree, and they said, "No"—Edgeware is two miles from Elstree—I asked them if they had worked for Mr. Partridge; they said, "No"—I took them to Herrington's beer-shop, and, in their presence, asked the landlady if she knew either of the three men—she said she did not, but she thought the man with the blue guernsey was in there last night—I then saw Herrington, and he said, "They came and asked for a drink of water last night"—Mr. Partridge said that they had all three worked for him, two of them up till the Wednesday of the robbery—I did not find much money on any of them.
COURT. Q. Where did the knife come from that has been produced? A. I found it on David Williams—both the witnesses were sober when I came up to them—neither of the other prisoners had a knife—I found 3s. 6d. in silver, and 5 1/4 d. in coppers, on them.
John Williams' Defence. I wanted the knife to cut some food when we
were hay-making, but I never drew a knife on any man since I was born; I never laid a band on the man. When the constable asked the woman if I was in the public-house, she said she did not see me there, and the little girl said she did not. If I wanted to rob a man, I could find richer men than that to rob.
David Williams' Defence. We were going to St. Alban's to the hay-making; we met these men early in the evening on the road, and Berry was fighting with a man. I separated them. We had only just left our work that day.
JOHN WILLIAMS— Confined Eighteen Months.
DAVID WILLIAMS and HARTIGAN— Confined Twelve Months each.
MR. KEMP conducted the Prosecution.
ANATOLE ISIDORE DEPOIX . I was residing at 34, Upper King-street, Holborn—on 9th July, I returned home about a quarter-past 11, and found the prisoners at my door—I could not swear that they were trying to get in—I said, "What do you want," and Tucker began directly to beat and strike me in the head, and took hold of my neck and took my watch—I called out, "Stop thief!"—he bad my watch in his hand, and the other one wanted to take my pocket-book—I could not struggle with them because they were beating me—they both of them struck me; Goldsmith beat me again before the policeman—Tucker succeeded in getting my watch—they got nothing else—I took it back from his hand; the chain was broken—Goldsmith struck me again—they did not get the watch again—the chain was not broken in any getting it back; but it was broken when I had got it back—it went through the buttons of my waistcoat, not round my neck—I succeeded in ringing the bell, and then they both ran away—I did not see them stopped—I saw them when the gentleman had stopped them—I could not see them from my house when they were stopped, but I am quite sure they are the two men—I lost sight of them about a minute—after the policeman came up, Goldsmith struck me again in the mouth, and on the top of my head, and bent my head down—the other man did not do anything.
Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE.(For Tucker). Q. Had you been drinking at all that night? A. No, I never drink—Tucker took hold of me first—he knocked me at the back of my head, and then caught me by the neck to prevent my calling "Stop thief!" and ringing the bell—Goldsmith knocked me down, and was trying to take my pocket-book—I had never seen the prisoners before—they turned down Vernon place, Bloomsbury-square, after they left me, and I lost sight of them for a minute—my hat was down and I stopped to pick it up.
HENRY CHARLES DAVIS . I am a professor of music of St John's street-road—on the night of 9th July, I was in the neighbourhood of Southampton-street, Bloomsbury, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw two men running towards me from King-street—I stopped Tucker, and my friend, who is not here, took the other one—I saw Mr. Depoix come—I saw Gold-smith strike him—I am certain these are the two men I saw running—I recollect the officers coming up—Tucker said it was not him, when I first took hold of him, but it was his friend—that was all he said—the prosecutor came up directly.
Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. Are you quite sure he said that? A. I said, "They are crying, 'Stop thief!' after you, and I shall detain you
till an officer comes;" and, as I understood him, he said, "It if not me, it is my friend"—I would not swear that it was not, "You make a mistake, it is not me, my friend," meaning me—I had seen them running—they were about five or six yards ahead of the prosecutor.
MR. KEMP. Q. At that time had you arrested him? A. Yes.
PATRICK FITZGERALD (Policeman, E 53). I was on duty in Southampton-street, Bloomsbury-square, on 9th July—Davis and the prisoner, Tucker, passed me struggling with each other; I walked after them to know what was the matter—Goldsmith came up directly afterwards, and then I took Tucker in custody—the prosecutor came up and gave him in charge to me—Goldsmith made a blow at the prosecutor, but I cannot say whether he struck him or not—I did not hear either of the men say anything.
Cross-examined. Q. At the station-house which did the prosecutor say had taken his watch? A. I do not remember which—constable, No, 63, found it, there were a great many people about.
COURT. Q. I thought the prosecutor recovered the watch? A. He did, but the policeman got it from the prosecutor.
Goldmith's Defence. I heard the cry of "Stop thief!" and saw two or three people running, I followed to see what was the matter, and as I got into Bloomsbury-square a man came behind me and took hold of my arm; he said, "I think you are the party I was running after;" I said, "I am not, I was merely running to see what was the matter;" he immediately let go of me; we then crossed the road together, and directly we got into Southampton-street, we saw the policeman on the other side, he took hold of my hand again, and called the policeman and gave me in charge; the prosecutor came up, pointed to me, and said, "That is the man that took hold of me and took my watch," and he stated the same at the station. It it likely I could bend his hand down as he says I did, and have hold of his throat and take his watch all at the same time. Tucker is a perfect stranger to me.
GOLDSMITH— GUILTY .*— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
TUCKER— GUILTY .**†— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY MARTIN . I live at 6, Market-street, and keep an eating-house—on the night of 28th July, or morning of 29th, about 1 o'clock, I saw one of the prisoners about a yard from the cellar flap of the house of Mrs. Tester—I could not swear which prisoner it was, I was on the opposite side—he walked to the cellar flap, it gradually opened; he descended, and it closed again immediately—I immediately ran over, knocked at the door, and told Mrs. Tester, the landlady, what I had seen—I then sent for a policeman, who went down in the cellar, and I kept watch on the cellar flap—he brought up Cooper—he took him to the station and brought back more assistance, and they went down and brought up the other prisoner—I remained at the cellar flap all the time—the cellar flap communicates with the public-house kept by Mrs. Tester.
Cross-examined by MR. KEMP. Q. Did you examine the premises? A. After the charge was given—I should say that the cellar flap was raised from the inside—there were bolts on it, not a lock—they have been wrenched and strained from the inside by a crow-bar—there are marks of a
crow-bar—no crow-bar was found, but a small chisel or screw-driver found on the inside—it does not fit the marks—the cellar flap was not opened by this screw-driver—that was the only implement which I found.
SUSANNAH CHARLOTTE TESTER . I keep a public-house at the corner of Market-street, No. 8, close to Oxford-market—Martin made a communication to me about ten minutes after 1 on this night—I called the servants—if a person goes down the cellar flap they could go directly up the cellar stairs into the house—there is a very slight door with a common lock at the head of the cellar stairs—they would then have access to the whole of the house—the flap of the cellar is kept shut and fastened with four bolts—my house is in Marylebone parish.
Cross-examined. Q. Must the flap-door have been opened from the inside? A. No; forced from the outside—two of the bolts were broken, one completely off, the other had been wrenched; the hasp was not broken, but the screws were bent in—the door between the cellar and the house is at the top of the cellar stairs, and it was fastened with a common lock—it had not been picked at all—there was nothing but beer in the cellar—the door at the top of the cellar stairs opens right into the bar, which we are constantly inhabiting.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Where the cash-box is kept, I suppose? A. No; I take it up stairs.
CHARLES CHAPMAN . I am in the service of Mrs. Tester—I am quite sure I fastened the flaps safely on the night of the 28th—I bolted them between 3 and 4 in the afternoon, and saw them safe a little after 12 at night—after the men were found there I found one bolt broken, and another off; forced off.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you go into the cellar at 12 o'clock for the purpose of examining the cellar? A. Yes; I always look round the cellar—I am quite sure the flaps were then safe; I looked to see—I examined the door at the top of the stairs, it was locked; it has a strong lock—the next morning we found a screw-driver.
JOHN FENDICK (Policeman, C 194). I was called to Mrs. Tester's house, and went down in the cellar about a quarter-past 1, not through the flap—I found Cooper there, hid up under some timber in the cellar—I took him to the station, and then returned with other constables and went down again—I saw the sergeant find Bango buried in some sawdust—the constable jumped on some boards that were lying on him, and he called out, "Oh," and we found where he was concealed.
Cross-examined. Q. Were they not sleeping there? A. I cannot tell—he lay there as if he was asleep—I am certain they were perfectly sober—I cannot say whether they had been drinking—they did not appear much like it, not sleepy—they were wide awake when I got hold of them by the collar.
RICHARD EDWARDS (Police-sergeant, C 2). I went down in the cellar, jumped on the board and made Bango squeak—I took him, and then searched further and found this screw-driver (produced) in the place where his head had been—on examining the cellar outside, I found there was an impression on the frame of the cellar flap, of a crow-bar about an inch and a quarter wide, exactly where the bolts should be placed—the two bolt holes nearest the house were forced quite away—we have not been able to find a crow-bar—the cellar flap goes under a portion of the front of the house, so that when the bolts were away they had to put the crow-bar under to press the flaps out from the front of the house—it was forced open from the out-side—on
Cooper I found some matches and several other things not relating to the charge.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see both the prisoners when you got into the cellar? A. I did—I met Cooper in the hands of policeman, 194, going to the station, I went back with the constable—the prisoners were perfectly sober, I am certain of it—Bango was not asleep when I jumped on him—he was in a close place of confinement, and if I had not jumped on him I do not think we should have found him—we have not found any house-breaking implements.
They were both further charged with having been before convicted, Cooper in the name of James Sullivan, at this Court, in June, 1857, total he was sentenced to be confined Twelve months; Bango, in the name of William Higgins, at Clerkenwell, in August, 1858, when he was sentenced to Four Years' Penal Servitude; to which
BANGO—PLEADED GUILTY**.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
COOPER—PLEADED GUILTY.— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
A police-constable stated that since Bango had been out from his last sentence a series of public-house robberies had commenced, and had ceased since the prisoners were taken in custody.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, August 21st, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. GIBBONS, and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR, Esq.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
868. GEORGE CASH (32) , Stealing 1 leather case, value 15s.; 15 table-covers, value 6l.; and 13 pieces of damask, value 1l. 6s., the property of Henry Seymour Pratt, in his dwelling-house; having been before convicted of felony, in January, 1861, in the name of Henry Watson; to all which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY.— Judgment Respited.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Posecution.
SARAH SMITH . I am the wife of Anthony Smith, and keep a coffee-shop at 22, Tabernacle-walk—on 4th August, the prisoner came and asked for a cup of tea and two slices of bread and butter—he gave me half a crown in payment, and I gave him a two shilling-piece and threepence halfpenny change—he then went away—I put the half-crown on a shelf over the till, having no more silver, and when my husband came in I gave it to him—he took it to get change, and found it was bad—I wrapped it in paper and put it by itself—on the next day, the 5th, the prisoner came again—I recognised him—I went for a policeman, and my husband gave the prisoner in charge—I gave the half-crown that I took to the policeman—I have not the slightest doubt that the prisoner is the person who came there on 4th.
it was bad—I put it in a bit of paper, wrote the day of the month on it, and gave it back to my wife—she gave me a description of the person from whom she got it—I was in my shop on the evening of 5th August, when the prisoner came in—I knew him from the description my wife had given me—he asked for a cup of tea and two slices—I served him, and he gave me a bad half-crown—I detected it directly—my wife was just outside the door, and I went out, and came into the shop with her—I said nothing about the half-crown to her—she recognised the man directly—I sent for a constable, and said, "I give him in charge for passing two bad half-crown; one to-day, and one yesterday"—the prisoner said that we were mistaken—I gave the half-crown that I took to the policeman.
JOSIAH FARROW (Policeman, 432 N). I went to Mr. Smith's, on 5th August, and saw the prisoner there—I was told he had passed bad money—I was not on duty, and I sent after a brother constable, and handed the prisoner and the two half-crowns over to him.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. CRAWFORD and ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY WARD . I am shopman to Mr. Lothbury, a pork-butcher, of 34, Chiswell-street, Finsbury—on 16th July, the prisoner came to my master's shop, and asked for a piece of meat, which came to fourpence—he gave me in payment a counterfeit florin—I looked at it, and then took it in to my master—the prisoner was then in the shop—I saw my master bend the florin—it was afterwards given to the constable by my master—this is it (produced).
ARTHUR ELLIOTT (Police-sergeant, 13 G). I took the prisoner into custody, at Mr. Lothbury's, on 16th July, and received this counterfeit florin—I told the prisoner what he was charged with; and he said he received it from a man with a barrow—the prisoner gave the name of William Bateman—I asked him where he lived; and he said, "I won't tell you any more"—he was taken before a Magistrate, remanded till 23d July, and then discharged.
JOHN CURD . I keep the Royal Oak public-house, Moorgate-street—on 29th July, the prisoner came to my house, asked for a pint of half-and-half, and put down a bad half-crown—I told him it was bad, and asked him how many more he had about him of the same sort—he said he was not aware that he had any more—he then put down another bad half-crown—I told him that was bad, and he began to dispute it, and said it was not—he reached over the counter to get possession of it—I went round, and he ran out—I sent my potman after him, and he was brought back by him and a constable—I gave the second bad half-crown to the constable—this a it (produced)—the prisoner picked up the first half-crown from the counter—he said he had just taken it of his master—I bent it—I have not seen it since.
Prisoner. I had but one half-crown when I went into the house.
ALFRED RANKIN (Policeman, 338 N). I was on duty at Haggerstone on this day, and saw the potman pursuing the prisoner—he gave him into my custody, and I brought him back to the Royal Oak public-house, and
received this half-crown—I told the prisoner the charge, and he said he did not know it was a bad one—I searched him, but found nothing—he gave the name of Jones.
WILLIAM WEBSTER. These are both bad.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES RUTHERFORD . I am assistant to Mr. Bryer, a gold refiner, of 53, Barbican—on Saturday, 5th July, Burke called there, and offered me a gold snuff-box—I asked him where he got it from; and he said that he found it on Westminster-bridge—I asked him if he had tried to find the owner of it; and he said, "No"—I then said, "I must, detain it to make inquiries about it;" and told him to call again on the Monday—he gave his address, 4, Long-alley—he did not call again till the 10th—when he came then the officer, Baker, was sent for, and I delivered over the snuff-box and the prisoner to him.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. The Monday would have been the 7th, and he called three days after that? A. Yes—he did not propose to raise money on the box at all—we do not take things in pledge; we buy gold.
MR. BEST. Q. Did he want money on it? A. He wanted to sell it.
CHARLES BAKER . I am a city-detective, from information I received, I went to 4, Long-alley—I found no such name as Burke there; it is a baker's shop—I inquired all about there, from one end to the other—I went to Mr. Bryer's shop on 10th July, and found Burke there—he was given into my custody—I told him I was a police-officer, and was going to ask him some questions, he need not answer unless he thought proper, as whatever he said might be used in evidence against him—I had the snuff-box in my hand, and I asked him where he got it from—he said he found it about three weeks ago, on Westminster-bridge, about half-past 7 in the morning, beside the kerb stone—I then told him he must consider himself in custody—I took him to the station-house, and charged him with the unlawful possession of it—he was remanded on the 11th, and let out on hit own recognisances; that was about the 17th—on Monday, 14th July, from information I received I went to Pelham-crescent, and found the two prisoners there together—I told them to come inside the house as I wanted to speak to them—I told Noon I was an officer, and warned her in the usual way—I asked her name, and she said, "Mary Noon"—I asked her where she lived—she said, "Here"—I said, "How long have you lived here?"—she said, "Two days"—I then asked her if she ever lived with Madame Ude—she said, "Yes"—I then asked her where her boxes were—she said, "At 2, Haydon-place, Pelham-road, Brompton"—I told her she must consider herself in custody for stealing a gold snuff-box—I then took them both to the station; the box was there produced, and Noon was told by the inspector that she would be charged with stealing it, and that John Burke would be charged with receiving it, knowing it to be stolen—Noon said, "I never saw the box; I know nothing of it"—I then went to the place where she said her boxes were, and two boxes were shown to me by a man named Jeremiah Connor—I searched them; Mr. Boys was with me—I found this miniature, this basket, some glasses, a small decanter, a table cloth, a gown, lined with
white satin, a cloak, a quantity of lace, several shifts, and a number of other things (produced).
Noon. They were all given me by Madame Ude.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. Do you know that the prisoners are related to her? A. I believe they are; I think Madame Ude's daughter married the nephew of the female prisoner—she told me correctly where the boxes were—there is no one here from Long-alley—I have not thought it worth while to bring anyone here to prove that the address in Long-alley was correct—I first received the snuff-box on Saturday, the 5th, I believe, from Mr. Rutherford—I had been told that the man was coming back to Mr. Rutherford's—I was sent for on the 10th—Burke is a bricklayer's labourer—I have made inquiries as to his character; those inquiries have been satisfactory, as to his being a hard-working man—I never saw him at Haydon-place—I have heard the woman say the things were given her, all the way through—the boxes were locked; they were common ordinary trunks.
JEREMIAH CONNOR . I live at 2, Haydon-place, Pelham-road—I know Noon; about the end of June, I fetched two boxes for her from 17, Pelham-crescent—they remained in my room till I gave them to the officer, in the same state as when I first fetched them—I did not put the miniature in.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not one of the boxes unlocked? A. No—I never saw the old man at my place.
EDWARD ALEXANDER BOYS . I am the executor of Madame Ude, who lately resided at 17, Pelham-crescent, Brompton—I have the probate of her will with me—the prisoner was in Madame Ude's service previous to her death; she died on 21st June—I was in the habit of visiting her constantly;—she had this gold snuff-box in her possesion—I saw it in a drawer in her bedroom four days before her death—I know the box well; it is one she has had for a great number of years; it is worth about 10l.—the day after her decease I looked for the box and it was gone—I discharged the prisoner the day of the funeral; a week after the death—I accompanied Baker to Burke's house, and saw some boxes—I took this miniature out—I know it to be the deceased's property; I saw it a short time before her death—I know the other articles—I did not give any of them, and none of them have been given to my knowledge.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you live in the same house? A. No, only about a fortnight when she was ill—I lived in the house nearly a month after she died—I was in the habit of visiting her before her death constantly; the female prisoner was in Brompton with her about six years—I had an opportunity of observing her conduct; it was kind and attentive at times, sometimes she was very violent—I mean to represent that Madame Ude and her servant lived on bad terms at times—I mean to say that seriously—I cannot give you an instance—I cannot give you a single date as to any misconduct on the part of this woman; they quarrelled and made it up again—I cannot give you any particular day; there were so many—Madame Ude left her a a legacy; it is iu the will—I never gave her a single article there, or authorized her to deal with any of them—there was an assistant servant there, whom the female prisoner brought—my sister was there; she is not here—I heard a statement made that my sister gave her some articles—I had seen the portrait within six months before Madame Ude's death—I cannot tell exactly—I also saw the basket and tumblers in her possession before her death; they were in daily use.
MR. ROWDEN. Q. Where is your sister now? A. At Brompton; she was away at Southampton when the case was before the Magistrate,
COURT. Q. I see the legacy in the will is 25l., have you paid her that? A. No; it is payable four months after her decease—I had no exercise over the house before her death—I paid no rental, or anything of that sort.
Noon received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM WOOD . I am a sailor, and live at 137, St. George's-in-the-East—on Saturday night, 9th August, at a little past 11, I was coming out of the Kettle and Drum public-house, when some one ran their hand across my breast—I heard a click, and saw the prisoner run away; that is the man that was taken—I never got my watch—I could not say it was the prisoner who took it; he was the one who ran, and who ran his hand across my breast—I never lost sight of him.
Prisoner. Q. Did not your shipmate say, "There goes the man; let us see if he has got it or not?" A. No; he said, "There is the man; he ran away just like a thief."
COURT. Q. Were you quite sober? A. Not exactly sober—I was nicely.
JOHN BATTY . I am a sailor, and live at 13, Devonshire-street, St. George's-in-the-East—I was with Wood at the Kettle and Drum public-house—I saw the prisoner put his hand across Mr. Wood's breast—a few minutes afterwards Mr. Wood said, "My watch is gone"—I said, "There goes the man;" and I ran after him and caught him—I saw him run—I followed about fifty yards I should think.
COURT to WILLIAM WOOD. Q. When did you last see your watch? A. Just before I came out of the Kettle and Drum—I did not take it out there—I had my hand against it in my pocket—I felt it before I came out—I supposed there were twenty or thirty people in the public house—I knew some of them—some were very queer people—there, were some women there, all pretty joyful.
JAKES FRY (Policeman, K 481). On the night on which this robbery took place I saw the prisoner running and saw him stopped by Batty—I asked him why he was running, and he said because they were going to beat him—I looked for the watch—it was just near the bridge, and he might have thrown it into the water—it was three or four hundred yards from where the watch was taken.
COURT to JOHN BATTY. Q. Would you have seen him throw the watch into the water? A. No, I don't think I should; it was dark—where he was stopped was just on the top of the bridge.
NOT GUILTY .
876. ELIZABETH CONNOR (13), GEORGE CONNOR (50), JOHN CONNOR (25), and ROSE CONNOR (51) , Stealing 97l. 10s, of David Wakefield, the master of Elizabeth Connor, in his dwelling-house; to which ELIZABETH CONNOR PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined One Month and Five Years in a Reformatory.
MR. ATKINSON conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID WAKEFIELD . I am a fruit and potatoe-salesman in Commercial-street, Spitalfields—Elizabeth Connor was in my employ during the present year—she came about four months previous to the robbery, which I
discovered about 3d July—I minted 14s. in copper at that time—I had 200l. locked up in a drawer in my bedroom, which I saw safe three weeks previous to 3d July—some of it was in a bag, and some in a purse—the keys were generally kept by my wife, but she was taken ill about this time, and I believe they were in an adjoining bedroom—it was Elizabeth Connor's duty to be about the bedrooms—when I missed the 14s. I sent her home, requesting that she would send her father round—he came in about four hours afterwards, and inquired of me what his daughter had been doing—I told him—I possibly might be mistaken—I do not know whether I saw him—I know that he came—the girl did not come back—it was either me or my sister told him what she had done—there was no arrangement made that she should not come back—she was not discharged—I did not see her again at my house after the 3d, after I had missed the coppers, the girl did not come back again—I thought I would go and look in the bedroom, and to my surprise, there was 96l. 10s. taken—some from the bag, and some from the purse, leaving a portion in each—I gave information to the police—the girl was accustomed to go home every night—she generally left, I believe, about 7 or 8 o'clock.
George Connor. You make a mistake in saying I came four hours after. A. I was up stairs and did not come down to see you—the girl was sent home earlier that day.
EMILY DENTON . I am sister-in-law of Mr. Wakefield, the prosecutor—I remember the girl Connor coming to his house and being sent away, I think about 6 o'clock on 3d July—her father came in about two or three hours, it might be later, I cannot say exactly—it was a good while before he came round—he wanted to know what the girl had been doing—I had only found out the coppers had been taken then—I told him I had missed them—in the first place, he said he would pay that, but the girl had better not come into our place again—I said if he knew nothing about it, the girl ought to come and work it out herself—he said she had better not come into the place again—the next day he came and offered Mr. Wakefield a shilling of the 14s. 4d. which he refused, and said he had not made up his mind what he should do—I have been told since that the son left at 2 o'clock the next morning for Belfast—I never gave Elizabeth a new pinafore.
George Connor. Q. What day of the week did Elizabeth leave you? A. Thursday—she left on the night before you came round with the shilling—I am positive of that.
MARGARET SWEENEY . I am the wife of John Sweeney, and live at 10, King Edward-street, Mile-end, New-town—the Connors have been living with me since last Christmas—they only occupied one room—they furnished it—they paid 3s. a-week for it—the four prisoners occupied it—another daughter older than Elizabeth, and another son—it is a good sized room—they had beds in it—the furniture is not in the room now—there is a part of it in the house—they took away some of it, but not quite all—I have seen Mr. Wakefield at my house—I cannot exactly tell you when the Connors left me—it might perhaps be a couple of months now—they left me on a Sunday—Mr. Connor and his wife went out about 1 or 2, and they told me they were only going over the water, and would be back at 7 o'clock to tea—they did not come back—the boy came there on the Monday after, and took a barrow of goods away—not George, the one that is here—they left some which are there now—I don't know when the girl and the other man went—I believe the girl went with them—I cannot exactly tell you whether any of them slept in the house that night—I do not know—they
paid me 3s. for rent on the Saturday night before they left—Mr. Connor told me he wan going to move, and that his wife would come down and pay the shop score, and she came down and paid me 7s. or 8s. for the chandler—they always paid me on a Saturday night regularly—they did not tell me that they had pledged things during the week to pay me.
George Connor. Q. Did ever you know my son to pay my shop-score and rent on a Thursday? A. Once, I believe, he paid me, and told me not to tell you till you came down to pay me on Saturday night—that was only once to my recollection.
COURT. Q. Were they weekly tenants? A. Yes—Mr. Connor did not tell me when he was going to leave—he left some things for 30s., borrowed money—the little carriage that belongs to John, who is lame, and an iron bedstead, they were left to meet 30s. debt that he owed me, and they are there now.
HARRIET DEAN . I am the wife of John Dean, of 10, King Edward-street, Mile-end New-town, a looking-glass maker, the same house that the Connors lived in—I remembered their leaving—I observed they had got a great deal of clothing out of pawn, and bought some—that was two or three days before they left—Mrs. Connor showed me some new boots that she bought, and a new pinafore, for the little girl, that she said the mistress had given her, and a new basket with some things in it, eatables, I believe—she showed me some tea, and said she had sent some things over to her daughter's to make some cakes, and some meat, and that—I know the things were in pledge, because Mrs. Connor had told me so—we were very intimate while we were in the house—she said she had written to the Secretary of State, who had written to the Queen, and she had sent her some money, and she had given 20l. to John to go to Belfast and get his watch and clothes out of pawn—she told me she had got 9l. or 10l. in pledge, and she had cleared all the pawnbrokers of what she had got in pledge—she told me she was going to her daughter's first, which is somewhere in the New-cut, and from there to Westminster—it was on a Sunday she left—she said just before that, that she had had some letters from her son some time before, but she did not expect him home for some time, as he was in India—the things were taken out of pawn on Saturday, 5th July, before the Sunday they left.
Rose Connor. Q. Did ever you hear me mention the Secretary of the State in your life? A. Yes—I do not live with John Dean, my husband—we could not live happy, and we separated—I live with Frank Sullivan at times—he is an honest man, not a thief—my husband has been away from me five years.
ELLEN BENDER . I am Single, and live at Pelham-street, Mile-end New-town—I have known the Connors four years—I recollect their leaving quite wall—about two days before they left, Rose Connor gave me some new brown holland to make some pinafores—she said that the lady who the girl was living with, had advanced her some money to buy some pinafores—on the Friday before they went, she said to me, "I owed Mrs. Sweeney some money; thank God, I have cleared with her; I don't owe her anything now"—I recollect on Saturday morning, about 2 o'clock, a cab came to Mrs. Sweeney's at No. 10—I live in the same street—the next morning Mrs. Connor came over to me, and said, "Our John has gone to Belfast this morning"—I said, "Oh, dear me! why did not he come over and bid us good-bye?"—she said, "He went unawares"—I said, "Mrs. Connor, you have had a lift"—she said, "We have had a little money sent to us from
the Royal Hotel, Norwood, from Miss Madam Coutts"—about 6 o'clock on Saturday afternoon, Mrs. Connor came over to me, and said, "Mrs. Bender, my husband wants you"—I went up stairs to Mrs. Sweeney's house, and Mr. Connor had about half a pint of gin in a bottle—he asked me to have a drop of it, filling me out a small glass, and he said, "Mrs. Bender, we are going away for a while, and we will be back again"—I said, "Mr. Connor, I don't want to know anything about your affairs"—I then took the glass of gin, and went down stairs—I saw a good deal of clothing about, the lines full of clothing, and bundles packed up—there were some shirts and chemises, and some new green merinos, and a new shawl—Mrs. Connor told me she had cleared everything out of the pawnbrokers'—on Sunday afternoon I came over to Mrs. Sweeney's—I generally attend in her shop then, and I saw Mr. and Mrs. Connor in the parlour—Mr. Connor went out at the private door, and Mrs. Connor stayed there for a bit—she then beckoned to me, and took me down to the Anchor and Crown public-house, and asked me what I would have to drink—I said, "Well, anything that you like to give me"—she then called for half a quartern of the best rum, and two-penn'orth of peppermint—she put her hand in the breast of her dress, took out part of the leg of a stocking, and out of that she took a sovereign—the barman said, "This is rather a rum sovereign;" and she said, "Give it me; I will give you another for it"—the young woman, the daughter of the publican, took the sovereign into her father and got it changed—Mrs. Connor said, "I want it to pay my debts"—the stocking appeared to have something in it—I cannot say what—she then gave me a shilling, and said, "That is what I owe you"—she then said, "Will you be at home at 7 o'clock?"—I said, "Yes, I think I will"—she said, "Don't be out, for me and you and Mrs. Sweeney must have a parting drop;" and when I went outside the public-house, she said, "If anybody comes to inquire after us, tell them we are so poor, that we have gone into some workhouse or another"—a couple of days after that, Mr. Connor came to me at half-past 9 at night, it was two days after the first hearing at Worship-street—I don't know the day—he asked me if I would meet him at the corner of Baker's-row—I said to him, "I am going out for some washing, and I can't"—I immediately went up to Spitalfields station-house, and told the inspector who was there that he had come to my place—about 11 o'clock on the same night, he and his wife came and said, "We have come to inquire after a room"—another woman was sitting at my door, who said, "There is a room up the court to be let"—Mr. Connor then called me on one side, and said, Mrs. Bender, are you going to transport the lot of us? my son John has 30l. round his waist in a belt"—I said, "Mr. Connor I don't want; what I have got to say, I shall say before the Magistrate"—I recollect the Thursday before they left being in Mrs. Sweeney's shop, and seeing Connor there, and he paid 2l. to Mrs. Sweeney—it was in gold and silver—he did not pay it altogether—Mrs. Connor told me she had cleared with Mrs. Sweeney all the money that they owed her, and Mrs. Sweeney said to me the Tuesday after they had gone, "I don't care where they have gone, they have paid me all"—the week before they left, they were very poor indeed—they could not be poorer.
George Connor. Q. Were you aware that we were in abject poverty? A. Yes; I know that you were in work previous to hurting your hand—I gave you 1s. 4d. towards your relief—I was cleaning outside when you paid Mrs. Sweeney the 2l.—not a yard away from you—Mr. Wakefield, the officer, did not promise me 10l.—I did not tell you he did—he never came to me at all.
Rate Connor. Q. Do not you know those dresses my son paid for last Christmas? A. They were not the gowns that I mentioned.
John Connor. Q. You say that the cab came to the door at 2 o'clock on Saturday morning for me? A. Yes; I cannot say what you had with you—I do Dot know whether you had any bundle—I did not see you get into the cab, for I thought it was the other son who had come from sea—I saw the cab there.
COURT (to Mrs. Dean). Q. Did you see a cab at the door of No. 10 at any time? A. No—I was not up at 2 o'clock on Saturday morning.
JOHN GABLE . I am a greengrocer, and lire in Passion-street, Spitalfields—I know the Connors—George Connor applied to me for assistance at the latter part of May—I do not recollect the time he left London—he said he had met with an accident, and was very poorly off, and that his son had been very ill for some time—he asked me to lend him 17s. to purchase a shed for his son—his son Charles came afterwards, wishing that I would write to get a trifle for him, as they were in very needy circumstances—we had a great many people at the time, and we could only afford him 1s. a week—it is a Benevolent Society—he had employment for a few weeks before that, but very little before that.
GEORGE CONNOR . Q. Was it me or my son that had the shilling a week? A. It was you—I volunteered that on account of your complaining of the circumstances you were in—I asked you whether you would accept of it, and you thanked me—I also got John on the Stranger's Friend Society without your asking me, but that was a year and a half ago—I relieved you about the first or second week in June of this year.
John Connor. Q. Did I ever make any application to get on this society myself? A. No; your father did, not you.
JOHN WILLIAM FLORENCE . I belong to the Stranger's Friend Society—on a Thursday in June I relieved George Connor with 1s., and went a week after that to relieve him again—I had the money with me, but I found they had left—I relieved him first in his own room, at 10, King Edward-street—I was running up stairs, and some female behind me ran up, holloaing out to Mr. Connor that somebody was coming up, and then the daughter came out on the landing and asked me in—I went in, and saw they were just having their dinner and tea together—I told them I should not stop on account of their having their meal—they persuaded me to sit down, and I sat down—I gave him the shilling, and told him I would see him again.
NATHAN LEACH. I reside at 15, Stewart-street, and am a member of the Sick Man's Assistant Society, for relieving poor and distressed people—we relieved the afflicted son, John Connor—he was at that time residing with his father—we gave him 2s. a week—I think the last visit was 20th April—he had been on our society some months previous to that.
John Connor. Q. Did I apply for the relief myself? A. I believe it was interceded for by some one else—you appeared to be in very needy circumstances, and very thankful to receive it.
COURT. Q. How were they dressed? A. Very meanly at the time of my visits.
ELIZABETH BOTT . I am the daughter of Mr. Bott, a beer retailer, in King Edward-street—I know the Connors—they had a friendly lead at my house—when any one is hard up people subscribe and give to any one who is in need—George Connor was there—it was on 21st June—he had a bad thumb—the lead realized 17s., which was given to him.
daughter, Mrs. Bateman, lived at my house—I remember seeing Mrs. Connor and the little girl there on the Sunday—the father came in afterwards, on the same day—they went into Mrs. Bateman's room—they had some porter and wine to drink—I was invited in to take some, and I went and had a little—I got none of the wine—I afterwards went into a public-house, and they had some wine there—I never tasted it—it was the colour of port wine—I did not see anybody pay for it—there were a great many there—I saw Mrs. Connor take a bag out of her bosom—it appeared like money in a stocking—I did not see money taken out of it—she told me her son had come from sea, and was going the next day to Belfast.
George Connor. Q. Did you see me in the public-house? A. No; I never saw you in a public-house—I saw no money with you.
SARAH HOUGH . I assist my father, who is the proprietor of the Anchor and Crown public-house, Mile-end—I know Mrs. Connor—I recollect her coming in one Sunday afternoon with Mrs. Bender—they had half a quartern of the best rum, and twopennyworth of peppermint—Mrs. Connor paid with a sovereign—I did not see her take it out of anything—I have not seen her since—my brother was with me in the bar—he is not here.
JABEZ SHELTON . I am a hosier, in the Whitechapel-road—I recollect hearing of this taking of the money at the beginning of July—I recollect George Connor coming to me about a week previous to that—I had relived him repeatedly—he stated that he was again in great distress, in cosequence of the accident to his hand—I then said I should see what could be done, I was very sorry he was again reduced.
George Connor. Q. Did you relieve me during my illness? A. Not at the time your hand was bad—I had repeatedly relieved you before; I got you that situation at Mr. Bonnallack's—I did not relieve you during that time; you were eight weeks at work, and you received nothing from me then—I received a letter from you during your illness, and we got medial relief for your son.
WALTER BONNALLACKS . I am a wheelwright, of Church-lane, Whitechapel—George Connor came into my employment on 15th April, as a labourer, at 15s. a week—he worked for me about eight weeks—on 14th June, he asked me to lend him 10s.—I lent him 5s.—he was to pay it back by instalments, when he came back to work—he left off work because he poisoned his hand, or something of that sort; he left me on 7th June—after he hurt his hand he could not work; it was arranged he was to come back—I kept the place open; a man was working for him till he came back—he did not come back—I gave him 2s. a week, for three weeks—I gave him the but 2s. on 28th June.
JESSE WOODGATE . I am foreman to Mr. Savage, a pawnbroker, of Whitechapel-road—I have the duplicates of some property here, which was taken out from the 2d to the 5th of July; the name of Connor was given—there is a gown 3s., a gown 1s., two blankets 9s., a pair of trousers 2s. 6d., a gown 3s., and a gown and shawl 12s.—the prisoners were in the habit of pledging things with us—I only know the father, George Connor.
JAMES BOWMAN SHARP . I am a pawnbroker, at 200, Brick-lane, Spital fields—produce two parcels of duplicates, one on the 2d, and the other on 5th of July, to the amount of 1l. 12s. in the name of Connor—I cannot tell who took them out—I know George Connor; he is in the habit of pledging at my place—the articles were a gown, a pair of stays, two petticoats, which were in for 12s., and a scarf shawl, which was in for 1l.
with a warrant, to apprehend George and Elizabeth Connor—I received them from the police at Belfast—I read the warrants to them—George said he knew nothing about it—I cautioned him, and told him I was going to ask him some questions—I said, "I find you have been dealing with money"—he said, "I have not"—I said, "You paid 2l. 8s. for a donkey and cart"—he said, "Yes, with my son's money," that was all—they were then brought to London—Elizabeth made a statement to me, but not in the father's presence—I caused inquiries to be made at the Secretary of State's office, about that statement, and found that no person of that name had received any money from that office.
HUGH MOROY . I am a detective of the Belfast police—from information I received I went, on 25th July, about 5 o'clock in the evening, to Union-street, Belfast—I there found Elizabeth and John Connor—I said to John, "What is your name"—he said, "John Campbell"—I said to Elizabeth, "What is your name?"—she said, "Elizabeth Campbell"—I said, "I arrest you as Elizabeth Connor, for stealing 97l. in London, sometime since," for robbery, I believe, I said—I cautioned her, and she said, "I only took the few coppers; I will stick to that"—I waited sometime in the house, and George and Rose Connor came in—I said to George, "What is your name?"—he said, "Gracey, is my name"—Rose was present—I said, "I arrest you as George Connor, for a robbery of 97l., at London, sometime since"—I cautioned him also—he said, "I know nothing of it"—Rose Connor then said, "That is my name, Gracey"—John also said the house was his; he had taken it—I found cards at the house, the same as this one (produced)—I took Elizabeth and George to the station, and afterwards before the Magistrate—I did not arrest John and Rose—I got a remand until the Monday—on the Monday, when I came into the police-court, I saw the father and daughter sitting together in the dock, and on going forward I heard George say the word, "Split'—there were other words, but I cannot say what they were, and the daughter said in reply, "Yes, father; I will stick to that"—I instantly separated them—I said something to George about purchasing a donkey, and he said that he and his son purchased a donkey for about 2l. 7s. 6d.—he also said he had paid upwards of 3l. in gold, coming from London, I asked him where he had come from—the house was just being fitted up; the bedsteads were not put up—George said he was going to keep a lodging-house, and said he had purchased a bed and bedsteads with his son's money—he meant the cripple—I searched him and found two sovereigns, and three half-crowns—after that I showed him this piece of paper and said, "Is that your writing?"—he said, "Yes; I sent it with my son, Charles, to the printer"—I got it from the printer, Henry Thomas—the paper is "Good lodgings, entertainment, kept by C. J. Conyer, 42, Union-street, Belfast"—I found cards in the house, the same as that.
George Connor. Q. When my wife and I came in together did you tell us what you were? A. I did not—when I said, "I apprehend you in the name of George Connor"—you said, "That is my name"—you gave me the money you had—I did not search John—I was within half a yard of you then I heard those words, quite close to you.
John Connor. Q. Was not the name of Connor on the box in the front kitchen? A. Yes; I saw it there—I said I would not arrest you till I acquainted my superiors.
George Connor's Defence. I did not leave London until about 7th or 8th July; on Tuesday morning previous to that the little girl came home; I
saw there was something wrong, I heard her tell her mother something, and the mother said to me, "Mr. Wakefield wants to see you;" that was about half-past 9 at night; I went there, and she told me it was about some copper amounting in all to 14s. 4d.; she said she was very sorry, and if I thought proper she would allow her to come back to pay it; I said I thought not, for I could not trust her; I had been suspicious of her for several weeks. I spoke to her mother one night to go out and see if she could see her previous to this she had had some sweetmeats and so on in her pocket I looked out of the window and saw her coming out of St. Mary's street; I charged her with it, and she said she had been in the yard, but she also said in her confusion, that what she had, she did not know what it was, she had laid on a step in St. Mary's-street; she afterwards took some more money and gave it to some girls from a ragged school, she was late that night also. I do sincerely hope this young man will be cleared of it; I am the head of the family and am responsible for them. The money spent going over to Ireland was the young man's, as far as I can tell; he received 10l. then from his owners as a present, and he got a good deal of money given him by officers of ships. He used to go out with a few envelopes, paper, and black leads, and he has sometimes given us 10s. at a time; he save us 15s. last Christmas, and paid for a dress for his mother and sister. I believe he is dying.
John Connor's Defence. I am a disabled seaman, not 25 years of age; I met with an accident in the East Indies, and lost all power of my limbs. I am quite innocent of this crime; here is my character (handing in a paper).
Rose Connor's Defence. Since I was born, and I am fifty-one, I never received any money from child or stranger. I never was in a station in my life; that child knew no more about the money than you do. We are innocent.
GUILTY .— Four Years Penal Servitude each.
OLD COURT.—Friday, August 22nd, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE WILLIAMS, and Mr. Ald. GIBBONS.
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
MARY JANE REYNOLDS . I live at 5, Sekforde-street, Clerkenwell—my father kept the Wellington-arms, in Wells-street, Poplar—I knew the deceased—on 14th July, a disturbance took place at our house between 3 and 4 o'clock—the deceased ran behind the bar—several enemies (people she had quarrelled with) followed her outside, but not behind the bar; the prisoner was one—a few minutes after that I saw the deceased lying on the ground between the bar and the bar stairs—I did not see how she got there—I saw the prisoner outside the bar close to her, next to her—I heard her
use words of a very aggravating and abusive nature; I cannot say what words they were—the bar door opens with a swing; the prisoner might have come behind the bar without my seeing her, but I don't believe she did.
MARY ANN SHEEN . I am a single woman, and live in Wells-street, Poplar—I knew the deceased—I was at the Wellington on the day this occurred—I saw the deceased come up to the Wellington—the prisoner was then in her mother's house, five doors from the Wellington—I afterwards saw her running down the street towards the Wellington, with one side of her hair hanging down—she was in a great passion—I saw her run up to the deceased who was then standing behind the Wellington bar—she catched her by the side of the head; this is the cap she catched her by (producing it), by she drawed her over the bar—I tried to take her away from her as well as I could—the deceased's head came on the stairs, and the crack that her head got on the stairs you could hear out of the door—I saw her fall with the right side of her head on the stairs, she fell heavily—the prisoner's sister caught hold of the prisoner by her two hands, not to let her do any more to the deceased, but she put up her foot and kicked her twice with her heel in the side of the head—the deceased was quite sober—the prisoner was not rightly sober, she had taken a little, but nothing out of the way.
Prisoner. Q. Did I take and knock your aunt down at all? A. Yes, out of cold blood you did it—she never as much as said, "You lie," to you—I can't say whether you have on the same boots now; they are the same coloured boots, and the same kind—I am not a bad character—I work at Myer's limited yard—I can't help what my sister may have done.
JURY. Q. You say the prisoner drew the deceased over the bar, do you mean right over the counter? A. Yes, and just as she had her over, the bar door came open, and her head went on the stain—the prisoner held her all the time.
WILLIAM BAIN . I am a surgeon at Poplar—on 29th July, I was called to see the deceased—I found her in bed and almost insensible—she complained of pain in her head, and put her hand up to it—she gradually got worse, and died on 6th August—I afterwards opened the body—I found a considerable quantity of clotted blood on the right side of the head, between the membranes of the brain—that had caused insensibility and death—she was paralysed in consequence of the compression—those appearances were quite consistent with the fact of her having received an injury on 14th July—a violent fall with her head against the stairs on 14th July, might have produced the condition in which she was—her general health was good—I had known her for a long time—it is consistent with that state of things, that she might have walked about after receiving the injury; that is very usual.
COURT. Q. Do you mean that you cannot account for her death upon any other supposition than that she must have had a blow or fall? A. It is quite possible that great excitement might cause a rupture of a vessel, as we find in apoplexy, without a blow or fall; at the same time I think that a blow or fall was the cause of death; that appeared to me to be more probable—if she had fallen with her head against the stairs on 14th July, that would account for the condition in which I found her head.
Prisoner. About six or seven months ago a woman hit her on the head with a washhand basin, and got a month for it Witness. I do not think it probable that that would have caused it, and there was no mark on the head externally or internally to indicate it.
Prisoner's Defence. In consequence of what I was told, I went to the Welllington, and said to the deceased, "Mrs. Honan you should not hit an old man like that (meaning my father). She made mouths at me, and made use of some bad words, and I own I slapped her twice with my open hand, but I did not knock her down or kick her. Next day she took out a summons against me, and gave me four days—she was well and hearty then, and did not complain of her head. She had a row with a person a week after wards; she was a very quarrelsome woman. She used to keep a place to sell ginger beer, and had a jar of liquor to sell on the sly, when all the public-houses were shut up, and she used to have a lot of girls and young men there at all hours of the night. A week after this happened, a woman threw a milk can at her.
MARY ANN HONAN (re-examined). It is all false; the woman never struck my mother at all; she made a blow at my father, but never offered to strike my mother—I lived with my mother—I was with her every day from 14th July till she died—as far as I know, she did not receive any blow from anybody—about eight months ago she had a blow from a tin bowl, but it was only a slight scratch, and not on the same side of the head as the congealed blood was.
Witness for the Defence.
SARAH DALEY . I am the prisoner's sister—on 14th July I saw the deceased standing outside the Wellington—I asked her the reason she had quarrelled with my aged father, and cut him in the head with an oyster shell—I went in for a pint of beer, and she followed me and abused me before the bar—the prisoner was not there then—she followed in three minutes after the deceased—the deceased then called my sister a b—whore, and said she was not married to her husband—my sister then slapped her in the face with her open hand—I pushed her away from the deceased, being anold woman—the deceased ran towards the stain of the bar parlour—my sister did not follow her; I got her home—I afterwards went back for the beer, and the deceased was then in the bar parlour—she was not on the ground at that time—I did not see her fall, or see her on the ground at all—I afterwards saw her going home with her neice.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you see the deceased go behind the bar? A. No, she did not go behind the bar—I believe she went up the stairs—I dare say she ran away from my sister—my sister did not go after her, I would not let her—I was about ten minutes before I succeeded in getting my sister out—during that ten minutes I did not see the deceased at all—I saw her go towards the stairs, but not afterwards—I dare say she had gone up the stairs—I saw Sheen there standing before the bar—it is not true that the deceased was lying on the ground, and my sister standing close to her—I was between them all the while—it could not have happened without my seeing it—I never heard the prisoner use any threats towards the deceased—I never heard her say she had served four days for her, and when she went to prison again, it should be for six months.
MARY JANE REYNOLDS (re-examined). The deceased was assisted out the back way by my father, in order to avoid the parties in the bar—that was after I had seen her on the ground—she did not go up stairs, that was a few minues after she was on the ground—I did not see any one assist her up the stairs, she walked up—I did not see how she got up from the ground.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined One Month
MESSRS. SLEIGH and OPPENHEIM conduced the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER
the Defence.— GUILTY of the attempt. — Confined One Year
MR. OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution; MR. DICKIE the Defence.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy on account of his extreme youth. Judgment Respited.
NEW COURT.—Friday, August 22nd, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE BLACKBURN; Mr. Ald. COPELAND, M.P.; and SIR
Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
MESSRS SLEIGH and LEWIS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. SERJEANT
BALLANTINE the Defence;
GUILTY .—He received an excellent character.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution, and the evidence was interpreted to
the prisoner.— NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY on the Third Count. — Confined Fifteen Months
MR. WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LLOYD the Defence.
GUILTY of the attempt. — Confined One Year
MESSRS. KEMP and DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN HENRY WESTZELL. I am a publican, of the Iron-road, Mill wall—on 29th July, Moyce came there, and afterwards the prisoner Cook came with one or two more, who are not here, and afterwards Smith came; they were all drinking but not together—I saw none of them intoxicated—I saw Smith sit down; Moyce was then standing by the bar—Cook was then there, and Moyce spoke to Cook, and accused Smith of using bad language—he said, "You have been using bad language in the house, and I will strike you"—he struck him twice, and Smith got up and tried to remonstrate—he said that he did not make use of bad language in his house—Moyce said, "Yes, you did," and struck him again while he was getting up from the seat—I came round the counter to prevent a quarrel, and got hold of Moyce, who was the nearest—I told him that a man in his sphere of life ought to be ashamed to begin fighting—I passed him over to the potman to hold while I went to the other party; I said the same to him, and tried
to keep them apart—Smith said that he did not wish to fight, but he was certainly not a chopping block to be hit at—Moyce then got out of the potman's hands, and ran out of doors saying, "Come out, and I will fight you in the field"—he had an inclination to go out, but I kept him there—Smith followed, and Cook said, "If you do not fight him, I will"—Smith made no answer, but he and two more left the premises together—I went outside; there were a great many bystanders—Kelly was not in the house at all.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. (For Kelly). Q. When you got out, or shortly afterwards, did you see Moyce climbing over the palings to get into the field? A. I saw it from inside the bar; some one pulled him down twice—I do not know whether it was Kelly; the crowd was so thick—I cannot say whether I saw Kelly outside or inside the house.
Cook. I did not say that if he did not fight him, I would; a man who had run away said that. Witness. There were two or three more with you, but I am quite sure you said it—you were pulling Smith out by his cloths, and he was first out of the house, though he had no inclination to fight.
SAMUEL DAVIS . I am potman at the Ironmongers Arms—on the day of this row, I was in front of the bar, between 6 and 7 o'clock—Moyce had been there for some time previous to Smith coming in, and when he saw Smith he said, "You made use of bad language yesterday in my absence; I shall strike you for it"—Smith said that Moyce had made a mistake—the deceased said that he would hit Smith once, twice, and thrice—Smith did nothing but sit there, aud Moyce struck him twice while he was sitting down, and once as he was getting up—my master went between them and pushed back Moyce, and I caught him by the arm, tapped him on the shoulder and said, "Now, old fellow, you shall not fight; you shall fight none"—he pulled his arm away from me, went out at the door hastily, and told Smith to follow him out and fight him in the field—I said, "Sit down, Smith, do not have any fighting"—he said, "I do not want to fight; I am not able or willing"—Cook went out outside the door, and a man named Wilding, spoke to Smith and said, "Come out and fight Moyce"—smith said, "I do not want to fight"—Cook said, "If you do not, I will fight him for you"—they went out, and when I went over I saw them fighting in a field; three or four rounds were fought while I was there—the deceased was one of the men fighting—I saw him fall three times; he was picked up—Smith was fighting him, and Cook acted as Smith's second—three rounds were fought while I was there, and Moyce fell every time—they were fighting when I went back to my master's house.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Moyce a good deal bigger than Smith? A. Yes.
Cook. Q. In what way was I acting as second? A. He sat on your knee once after he was picked up—Wilding followed me and said, "Will you take this cout to the house for me, and keep it till I come over," and I did so.
THOMAS MARSHALL . I live at Millwall—I was there when Moyce was killed—I did not see any fighting; I only saw one man protecting himself—I saw Smith protecting himself several times from Moyce—he said that he did not wish to fight, and begged to be taken out of the field—I am deaf, but I heard that.
Smith, Moyce, Weldon, and Cook, making into the field—I did not notice anybody else with them—Kelly went to Moyce and begged him to go home, as he was not capable of fighting, and what a disgrace it would be to him—before I got to the field, I saw Moyce go to the palings; Kelly pulled him off the pallings twice, and requested him to go home—he refused, and said that if he did not let him tight, he would strike him—Kelly let him go, and he went over the palings, and there was Weldon and a sailor boy sparring, to urge Moyce into the field—I went round the palings and saw Moyce and Smith fighting—I saw Smith on Weldon's knee, and saw Kelly pick up Moyce and beg him to go home, but he would not—he said he would have his fight out, and away he went to fight again—I saw nothing further; but walked round the field, and saw no more contest at all.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Kelly come up? A. He was in the field when I got there—he did not get over directly Moyce got over.
PETER MORRISS . I live at St. Catherine's-terrace, Millwall—I was standing about forty yards from the Ironmonger's Arms, and saw a large con-course of people come out—I followed them, and there was a party in the field who climbed over some palings; the deceased came up to the palings to climb over, and James Kelly pulled him down and insisted on his going home with him—he got out of his arms and climbed up again, and Kelly palled him. down a second time, and told him it was a shame for him to go into the field to fight, in the state he was in—Moyce attempted to get up a third time, and Kelly pulled him down—he said, "If you do no let me go, I will strike your face," so he let him go over the pailings—he fought a round or two, and Kelly said, "Let us get over and try to get him home"—I said I cannot climb over those palings without tearing my clothes, and I will not go—I did not see who acted as seconds—I was forty yards off, and could only see them through the palings; but I saw Cook and Wheldon and two naval reserve men; they were all acting as seconds for Smith, and Kelly was on the other side, with the deceased, when I went in.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Kelly urging him to fight? A. No; he wanted to get him home, and I believe he would have done so, if it had not been for those two naval reserve men—that was about ten minutes before the fight finished.
Smith. Q. Did you see Boyce strike me on the ground? A. No—I did not hear him say that you could claim the fight.
Cook. Q. Did you see Smith on my knee? A. No; he was on Weldon's knee when I went into the field.
EDWIN DAVIS . I was with Morrisa, and saw Kelly trying to keep Moyce from going into the field—I went into the field after they had been fighting five or ten minutes, and saw Smith and Moyce fighting—first one acted as second, and then the other—there were two naval reserve men, and Weldon and Cook—I saw him on Cook's knee, or, if he was not on his knee, he was heaving him up—no one was seconding Moyce when I went into the field—when he fell down he got up again—I afterwards saw Kelly come and strive to get him away, and one of the naval reserve men came up and tried to prevent him; and Kelly got hold of him, and said, "Do not let him fight, it is better for you and me to fight than that"—he was drunk, and could not help himself—Moyce was not sitting on Kelly's knee each round—I saw the last round—they got hold of one another, and were striking one another—Moyce fell, and Smith with him; and Smith being the shorter man, when he fell, his head pitched on Moyce's breast, and slid up under his chin.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you saw Kelly pull Moyce down from the
fence three times? A. Yes; and he said that if he did not let him go he would strike him—he struggled as much as a man possibly could do.
JAMES EDMUNDS . I am a physician and surgeon—I made a post mortem examination of the deceased, by the Coroner's direction, two days after the death—he was a large, powerful man, nearly six feet high—his body was very much decomposed, and extensively bruised about the shoulders and back—around the scalp of the lower and back part of the head I found a quantity of extravasated blood, and on the surface of the brain a corresponding extravasation, and another extravasation between the bone and its membranes—the skull was not fractured—the head was unnaturally loose on the spine, and the ligaments which connect the cranium with the spine had been damaged—the cause of death was pressure on the junotion of the brain and spinal cord, caused by the extravasation of blood and the loosening of the ligaments—falling heavily would have caused the bruises; but, I believe, the injury to the ligaments of the neck was caused by his falling doubled up in some way, or by some one falling on him when he fell in a half sitting posture—a fall which caused the head to be doubled on the body would do it; if the upper man fell with his chest on the deceased's head, that would have caused it.
Cross-examined. Q. After such a fall at you describe at might have caused death, could the man have had another round, if in an intoxicated state? A. I should say not; I believe this injury occurred in the last fall, which was distinct—it is impossible for me to say whether it might have occurred in a previous fall—it is possible that he might have received the injury and gone on struggling a little longer, but I think not.
COURT. Q. You do not think the injuries to the neck would have caused Incompatibility of fighting afterwards? A. Yes; I think they would—a large quantity of blood had poured out, and caused pressure on the brain and its ligaments; that blood would have taken some minutes to flow out, and it is possible that during that time the man may have had another round—it is possible that there might have been some exertion during the slight interval that intervened—the injury I found would cause the death which I found; a slow snoring death, and a gradual cessation of breathing.
Smith's Defence. Neither Cook or me had any animosity against the man; we were great friends of his; and two or three days before we were talking about the Exhibition and the different pictures. I thought he must be mad, and I took two or three blows from him without noticing them, and that we went into the field. He struck me when I was on the ground, and the people said that I could claim the fight then. I should not attempt to fight him, because I knew he could lick me. A dozen people picked me up.
Cook's Defence. I did not second him.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, August 22nd, 1862.
PRESENT—Sir JOHN MUSOROVE, Bart., Ald.; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. KEMP conducted the Prosecution.
I was in Aldersgate-street, about 9 o'clock, and saw the prisoner resting this bag (produced) on the pavement—I asked him what he had got in that bag—he said things belonging to himself—I asked what things they were—he said, "Petticoats"—I said, "Where are you going to take them to?"—he slid, "Home to where I live"—I said, "Where do you live?"—he said, Come along with me and I will show you"—I did not go, but took him in custody, and took him to the station—I again asked him for his address, but he did not give it me—the bag contained twenty-eight petticoats—these (produced) are a portion of the things—the others were given up—there were fifty-two pieces of linsey, patterns.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say, "Things belonging to myself while they are in my care? A. No; you did not—you did not at the police-station ask me several times to go home with you—when I asked you where your home was you refused to tell me—you did not point up the Goswell-road—I did not say, "I can't be humbugged about lite this; you most come with me I—went to the address which you gave before the Alderman—I searched your place, and found a knife, which I thought had no business to be there, but I could not find an owner for it—it has not been produced throughout the case; it was given up—I found nothing else—I have been to your house two or three times since—I don't know what days they were—I think I was there three days running—I went to see your wife, and also to see the landlady, to make some inquiries—I saw the landlady, and asked her if any things had ever been brought there, and she said, "No."
WEBSTER DENISON . I carry on business at 18, Lawrence-lane—these goods are my property—I missed them on the morning of 4th July, at a few minutes to 9 o'clock—I saw them safe at twenty minutes past 5 the night previous—my premises were then fast—when I left t bolted the door, turned the key, and tried them—when I got there next morning at seven minutes to 9, I found one of Pickford's porters at the door waiting with a parcel for me—the door was closed, but unfastened—I went in, and missed these goods—they were on the premises the night before—I am quite sure they are my goods—they are patterns of ours that no other people make—the door showed no signs of any breaking.
Prisoner. Q. Does any one sleep in your house at night? A. Some one lives at the top—you must go in at the street-door to reach the door of the room from which these things were taken—the street-door is fastened inside—it might possibly be opened from outside without the bolts being withdrawn—there were no marks of violence about it—the door is opened in the morning at half-past 7 by the housekeeper, and is left open from that time; and we arrive about 9 o'clock—my office is on the first floor—I spoke to the policeman on duty, and gave information at Bow-lane police-station the same morning that I missed the goods—I never saw this bag before, nor you either, until that morning when I saw you in custody—the house did not appear to be at all injured—the lock was a common lock, and might easily be picked.
JURY. Q. Is there any other person in your house besides the house-keeper? A. No; not of a night—I cannot say whether the robbery might, or was likely to, have been committed by some one that knew the place, and knew the things to be there.
MR. KEMP. Q. Is there a street door down below? A. Yes; and then separate doors on each floor to the warehouses—it is my duty to open my warehouse-door—the house is a large building let out—I did not near any complaint about the street-door being open.
COURT. Q. Were you speaking of the look of your own warehouse-door? A. Yes; not of the street-door—I meant that there were no marks of violence on the door of my warehouse—I found it unlocked when I got there—I kept the key of it myself, and was in the habit of opening it when I came in the morning.
WILLIAM NEAL . (Examined by the prisoner.) I did not see you on the morning I went to this warehouse—I have seen you about a good many times; I cannot say where; I know your face as well as possible—I never saw you, that I know of, with any goods to rouse suspicion of any kind.
GEORGE CRISP (City-policeman, 424). On the morning of 4th July, I was on duty in Lawrence-lane, and saw the prisoner, in company with another man, about fifty yards from the prosecutor's warehouse, near about half or a quarter past 7 o'clock; I could not say within five or ten minutes—I have seen the prisoner about there before—I am quite certain he is the man.
Prisoner. Q. What was the distance which you stated at Guildhall you saw me from the place? A. I said it might be from fifty to a hundred yards—I did not say it was a hundred yards—it was nearly half-past? when I saw you—I did not see you afterwards—when you were remanded I went to Guildhall to see if I knew you, and I knew you directly—Rowland ordered me to come and look—he merely asked me if I saw any one about there in the morning, and I said, "Yes, I did," and described who I saw—he did not describe you to me, nor tell me how you were dressed—I did not pick you out from any other men when I came to Guildhall; you were brought out into the passage by yourself—Adams did not say anything to me about you—he did not say, "That is him, Crisp"—he did not say a word—I went down with the gaoler; Adams did not go down with me; the gaoler unlocked the door, and brought you out, and I knew you directly—Adam did not go down there with me; he might have been down there—he came afterwards behind me—I did not notice who it was came down—Rowland did not beckon me forward at Guildhall when the clerk asked if there was any other witness; I was there on purpose to give evidence, to give notice that I knew you, and had seen you there on the morning—I did not see anything with you in the morning—you might have had that bag, but I did not see it; the other man might have had it—I have seen you both about together frequently—three weeks before, we had a robbery committed on the same beat just in the same way.
(The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read at follow: "I reserve my defence. I received the goods, but I never committed the robbery.")
Prisoner's Defence. When I made that statement which was read just now, that I received the goods, I did not understand that I was indicted for receiving them, knowing them to have been stolen, and I never meant that I had received them, knowing them to have been stolen. I was going to the post-office that morning when I left my house, and I met a young man, who told me he had got a situation at a woollen warehouse in the City. He then had two bags with him, one in front and one behind. He said he had to leave one at Blackfriars-road, and one at Islington. He asked me if I was going home, and I said I should be, shortly, to my breakfast. When I got to the station-house the officer took my money away from me. I told him I had had no breakfast, and he got me some. After asking the man what the goods were, I took them. Knowing the man, I did not know I
was doing anything wrong, or that the things had been come wrongly by; I thought I was doing the man a favour. Had the officer gone home with me I should have had an opportunity of clearing myself, but by his not going home with me he robbed me of the only chance I had. The man called for the goods, and my wife told him the officer had there and searched the place, and then he made off. Had the officer have gone with me he would have seen the man, but he is prejudiced against me for a certain thing, although he has never had me in trouble before. There was no trying to shift out of any question he put to me. I answered him sharply, and did not try to evade an answer. I think the case is very doubtful, and I beg you will give me the benefit of that doubt.
GUILTY of receiving. He was further charged with having been before convicted of felony on 20th July, 1861, at Southwark police-court; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. TAYLOR conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT BYLES . I am a shoemaker, living at 36, Queen-street, St. Luke's, Chelsea—on 25th July I closed my house at a few minutes past 10—I was awoke next morning about 5 or two or three minutes past, and when I came down, the back and front doors were both open—I missed five pairs of boots from the shop—these five pairs of boots (produced) were shown to me in, I should say, about twenty minutes afterwards—they are my property—the two prisoners and the boots were all brought to my shop within about twenty minutes.
HENRY BARTHOLOMEW . I am a shoemaker, at 14, Queen-street, Chelsea, nearly opposite the last witness—on the morning of 26th July I was up early, and my attention was attracted about five minutes before 5—I heard Byles's door unbolted, and saw Ennis come out—Williams was standing on the pavement about five yards away from the door—I said, "That is not right," and as I spoke, both prisoners ran away, and I ran after them—they turned the corner of the street, and I turned the other way to meet them in the next street, and they were coming full butt into my arms, and would have done so, but they ran into Swan Wharf, seeing me, and I saw them caught there—they were carrying boots when they were running—Ennis had, I think, three pairs, and Williams the others.
Cross-examined by MR. M. J. O'CONNELL. Q. What time was this? A. 5 in the morning—I had been up half an hour before that, and at work—the street is not particularly wide—it must be fourteen or fifteen yards across from my door to the prosecutor's—a young man, Oliver, stopped Williams, and the policeman stopped Ennis—Oliver is not here—he is a butcher, and lives not a great way off me—I know him well—there was no one else about at that time but the policeman and him—he was not at the police-court; he could not get away from his work.
MR. TAYLOR. Q. Are you quite sure as to these being the two men you saw at Byles's door? A. Yes, quite sure; they were not out of my sight half a minute.
JAMES GATLAND (Policeman, B 322). On the morning of 26th July, about 6 o'clock, I was on Swan Wharf, not far from Queen-street, and heard cries of "Police!"—I went down towards Queen's-road, and saw the two prisoners running from Queen-street towards the Wharf—Ennis was carrying
two pairs of boots, and Williams two pairs—I saw the last witness—I stopped Ennis, and saw Oliver stop Williams, who threw the boots down.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Bartholomew close to them when you saw them? A. I should say he was about thirty yards behind them—it was, I dare say, about forty yards from where I first saw them to where they were caught—they came towards me—the last witness picked up the two pairs of boots dropped by Williams—I have brought the five pairs of boots here.
JAMES RANDALL (Police-sergeant, B 9). I examined Mr. Byles's premises on the morning of 26th July, and found that the back kitchen-window had been forced open—the persons had gone through that window into the kitchen, up the kitchen-stairs, and broken the lock off the parlour-door, which was the shop-door, where the boots were taken from, and let themselves out at the front-door—they had broken the box off the front-door.
ENNIS— GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
WILLIAMS— GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined One Week.
No evidence was offered for the prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRIDGES . I reside at Rupert House-terrace—on Friday, 25th July, I fastened the window of my dining-room at about half-past 11 or from that to 12 o'clock at night—I was called down by a servant next morning about a quarter past 6, and found that an entrance had been made at this particular window—I missed from the dining-room some counters, a pair of Balmoral boots, a coat, a cream-ewer, a sugar-basin, and cake-basket—two of these things (produced) are not mine, but the rest belong to me—the value of the property altogether is, I should say, about 30l.—some of the articles were in use the night before—my house is in the parish of Chiswick—I was the last person up, and barred and bolted the dining-room back window.
AMELIA KERSHAW . I am cook in the service of Mr. Bridges—on Friday night, 25th July, I closed and fastened all the windows and doors, at a little before 11, except the dining-room window—next morning I came down a few minutes after 6, and found the room all in a disorderly state, and the window open—I roused Mr. Bridges directly—the window of the hall back-door was also broken—the dining-room window was the only place at which a person could get in—I found this iron gardening instrument in the dining-room.
WILLIAM HENRY ROGERS (Police sergeant, T 13). On Sunday, 27th July last, I found a pair of boots in the garden of Mr. Glendenning, at the back of the prosecutor's house—I also found marks of bare feet in the soft soil by the side of the path in Mr. Bridges' garden—I afterwards found footmarks corresponding with the length and breadth of these boots—the boots have not been fitted to the prisoner.
morning, the prisoner came and asked whether we purchased plate—I told him we did sometimes, but I should not buy any of him unless he brought a note from the person to whom it belonged—he went away, and returned in shout a quarter of an hour with this note (Read: "James Connell. Sir, please to take the plate, and send a note back by the bearer, J. Council, 7, Marlborough-street, Chelsea. John Smith, bearer." Envelope addressed, "Mr. Vincent")—he brought all this plate with that note—it was wrapped up in cloths, just as it is now—we did not buy it—I detained it, and sent for the police.
WILLIAM BIRCH (Police-sergeant, T 25). On Saturday, 26th July last, about half-past 8 in the morning, I went to the shop of Mr. Vincent, and found the prisoner there—I said, "I understand you have brought some plate to pledge"—he said, "Yes, I have"—I said, "Where did you get it from?"—he said, "My brother-in-law sent me with it"—I asked him who his brother-in-law was—he said, "He sent a note by me; if you look at that note, you will see who he is; he has two or three brick-carts in Marlborough-road"—I then asked the pawnbroker for the note, and he gave it me—I went to the address given of James Connell, and tried every place, and there was no such person living there, nor anywhere round the neigh-bourhood—the prisoner had on a pair of nearly new double-soled Balmoral boots when taken to the station—he got rid of them on the remand from Saturday till Wednesday—they were not quite new—there was a stitch or two loose in the side.
WILLIAM JAMES HOLDEN (Police-inspector). On Saturday, 26th July, the prisoner became very violent at the station-house, when Birch had been sent to make inquiries about Connell—I thought it right to place him in a cell—on searching him, I found in the pocket of the coat which he now has on, this handle of the cream-ewer, and these counters—I observed a pair of Balmoral boots on his feet—I asked him how he came possessed of them—he said he bought them second-hand from off a barrow at Lincoln-fire, which means some place, I suppose, I don't know—in the evening, after he was examined at the police-court, I went and examined the prosecutor's premises at Turnham-green—I found that some one had got over the garden-wall at the rear of Mr. Bridges' premises, broken down the ivy, come along the garden-path, tried the kitchen-window, and out out a square of glass in a glass door that leads from the passage to the garden—there was a slight mark at the bottom of the kitchen window-frame—further on I found that a pair of glass folding-doors had been forced open, the bolt forced away and the shutters forced off—there were marks of paint on this instrument, and I fitted them exactly with the paint on the shutters and on the glass, doors that lead from the dining-room to the lawn.
He was further charged with having been before convicted in December, 1860, at Westminster, in the name of Daniel Littleton, and sentenced to Fifteen Months' imprisonment; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**†— Eight Years' Penal Servitude.
891. RICHARD HUGGETT (22), JOHN SMITH (20), WILLIAM SMITH (18), and WILLIAM MATTHEWS (18) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Stratton, and stealing therein 2 coats, value 2l., and other articles, value together 3l., his property; to which
WILLIAM SMITH— PLEADED GUILTY .*— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
WILLIAM MATTHEWS— PLEADED GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES STRATTON . I live at 4, Queen's-square, Hoxton—I am a painter and am the occupier of the house—on the night of 16th July, I and my family went to bed about half-past 11—the house was quite secured at that time—I fastened it myself—the parlour door was locked and the back window secured by a fastening in the ordinary way—there were no shutters—at about 4 o'clock in the morning I was awakened by the police, and came down into the back kitchen—I found the back window still closed, but a square of glass had been cut out of the half that was close—I found two coats, a clock, and some children's wearing apparel in the middle of the room, packed up—that property belonged to me, and was worth about 5l.—my house is in the parish of St. Leonard, Shoreditch.
GEORGE FARMER (Policeman, N 554). On the morning of 16th July, about 4 o'clock, I was on duty in Queen's-square, near the prosecutor's house—I heard a noise at the back of the house—I went to the back and looked over the wall, and saw the prisoner Huggett in the back kitchen, and William Smith outside the kitchen window—Huggett was packing up some things inside the room—Smith was looking through the window at Huggett—Smith looked up first—they both saw me—it was quite light—Smith made a sign to Huggett, and Huggett looked up also; Smith immediately jumped in through the window to Huggett—I immediately jumped over the wall, and went through the window into the house—they shut the door of the room in which they were; I heard the noise of the shutting—I could not open it very well with my hand, and I burst it open with my knee—I got to the front door and found that was fastened too—I opened it, ran out, and gave the alarm to my brother constable—they had got out of the house, and I followed on the track up St. John's-road, and saw Huggett running—I picked up a pair of stockings that Smith had on when I saw him through the window; his boots were off—I did not see the others running—as I was getting near Huggett he turned round and found I was close on him; he said, "Who are you running for?"—I collared him by the throat and said, "You"—I took him to the station, and afterwards went back to the house, when I found two pairs of boots—I brought them back to the station-house—I then saw Matthews and William Smith—Matthews claimed the pair of boots that I found as his—I have seen Huggett before—there is a mark at the side of his face, and I was near enough to see and identify him—I was within three yards of him when I saw him in the room—from the top of the wall to the room is about three yards.
Huggett. Q. Was I in the house when you gave the alarm? A. No, not then—you had not the stockings in your hand when I saw you running—I picked them up on the road as I was running after you.
THOMAS MAYNARD (Policeman, N 266). On the morning of the 17th, I saw John Smith in a back yard, coming from the direction of the prosecutor's house, about 4 o'clock—I asked him what he had done there—he said he had just gone up into the water-closet—he afterwards said he had been to Whitechapel, and had just come home from a coffee shop there where he had been all night—I did not know his residence—I knew his mother's residence—she lived at the yard at that time, in a house close by—the yards adjoin at the back—from inquiry I made he had not been living there for the last two days, but was with Matthews.
John Smith. I told the policeman I came out of Church-street. Witness. No.
WILLIAM HOPPER (Policeman, N 358). On the morning of the 17th,
about ten minutes to 4 o'clock, I saw Huggett and Matthews in Hoxtontown, standing together, at the corner of Albert-mews, about a hundred yards from the prosecutor's house—I saw them once as I came up the road, and left them standing there—I saw them in custody afterwards.
Huggett's Defence. I was in the public-house drinking on this Wednesday up till three o'clock in the morning, opposite to where this job was done. I came out of the Red Lion public-house, at about 3 o'clock with some others; we walked down as far as the Albert-mews. Some went one way, and I and two or three others came and stopped at the corner of Essex-street. They went indoors to go to bed, and left me. I lived in Clerkenwell, and I was very tired and sleepy, so I sat down and went to sleep, and all at once I heard the policeman halloo.
John Smith's Defence. When I was coming towards our door, the policeman was coming down our gateway, and asked me what I wanted there. I said that I lived there. I was going to work, and he took me to the station. I had got work to do not half a mile from where I lived.
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
HUGGETT— GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. M. J. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
DENIS MULLOY . I live at Frederick-place, Walham-green, and am a labourer—on the night of Saturday, 5th July, I was coming home from, my work, and I went into the Peterborough public-house, in King's-road, and called for a pot of beer for myself and a woman who was with me—the prisoner came in about 8 o'clock, and called for a pint of beer—I called for a half-quartern of rum, and asked the prisoner if he would take some—he said, "No," and I then called for another pint of beer, but did not drink it all; I left part—I had all my money with me, 9s. 6d. wrapped up in a little bag, which I put in my trousers pocket in the public-house—it had been in the same pocket before I paid—I took some pence out before I put the 9s. 6d. in—the prisoner left about three or four or five minutes before me—I could not exactly tell—I then went out and along the road—he came up to me and put his hand at the back of my neck—it was about 300 yards from the house that he first met me; I do not know whether it was more or less—I went across Eelbrook Common—he put both his hands to my throat and then put one hand in my pocket and took the money—I told him I would sue him for it—he went away, and I hallooed out, "Police, police," but there was none there—I went back to the public-house, and told the landlord something, and after leaving there I went to Parsons-green, and inquired where the prisoner lived—I was shown the house, and went up to the door, and made inquiries for the prisoner there, but did not see him—I gave information to the police afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How long were you in the public-house altogether? A. About two and a half or three hours, not four hours—I went there about 7 o'clock, after leaving my work—I work for Mr. Bagley, about half a mile or better from the public-house—I left off work at 6 o'clock, but we were not paid till half-past 6—I do not know whether I was at the public-house later than half-past 10—I and the woman had a pot of beer between us which I did not finish, and then I had a half-quartern of
rum—that was all—I paid fourpence first for the pot of beer—I took that out of my pocket, but did not meddle with the silver—I had not money in both pockets—the coppers were in my fist when I went into the house, and the other money in my right-hand trousers pocket—I had either sixpence, sevenpence, or eightpence worth of coppers—I took the fourpence out of my hand—I went on drinking the pot of beer—it was about three-quarters of an hour from that time till I had the half-quartern of rum, which I paid for with threepence out of my hand, and then I paid twopence from my hand for the pint of beer—I must have had ninepence in my hand when I went in—I kept it in my hand—I separated it from the silver in the yard—I never touched the silver at all while I was in the public-house—I never took it out nor looked at it in there—I had it wrapped up in a little bag in my pocket—I know I could not have dropped it, for I put it in my pocket when going into the public-house—I get 15s. a week—I received 15s. on that Saturday—9s. 6d. was taken from me—I had a little club in the yard to which I paid 3s. 6d. a week, and I paid 4s. to that, in the yard—the woman that was with me was one of the working women; she only came in where I was and I treated her with a share of the first pot of beer—I did not share the rum with her; she was gone then—I had that and the pint of beer to myself—I was not at all drunk, the landlady knows that—I never charged any man or woman for robbing me, nor for anything else—I have never charged anybody with anything—I have never been charged with robbing anybody or stealing anything; never with stealing a sovereign—I have never paid a sovereign to prevent being taken prisoner—I do not know a market gardener named Bayley—I know every one of the market gardeners, but not one of that name in my neighbourhood—I have been working at Bagley's this twenty-one years—I did not, on the Monday after this happened, state to all the people at work there that I had been robbed at all; they asked me about it, but I never made any answer—I know a person named Maloney—I did not say in her hearing that I had not been robbed at all; she asked me if I found my money, and I never made her any answer—I did not, that I know of, say in the hearing of the other persons that I had not been robbed at all—I did not know until I went to Parsonsgreen, that Welsh lived at Hackett's, then I inquired—I did not see Hackett; but his wife, Catherine Hackett, opened the door to me and I spoke to her—I was not then so drunk that I could hardly stand—I went to the policeman on the Sunday evening, between 6 and 7 o'clock, not till then—I was at work on Sunday till about 5 in the afternoon.
MR. O'CONNELL. Q. Did you feel any inconvenience after the prisoner had seized you in the manner you have said? A. Of course I did, and I went back to the public-house and stated my case to the missus—there is no truth in the story about my paying a sovereign to avoid being taken prisoner—Mr. Bagley is the man I have worked with twenty-two years; since I came to England.
Cross-examined. Q. What time did he come back? A. Before 11—it was about half-past 6 or a quarter to 7 when he first came, and he left a little after 10—he was drinking during that time—I do not know what he was served with; I know there was some beer and a half-quartern of rum—there were two people standing in the bar when he came back—I did not talk to him long—he told me he had been robbed, and by whom, and then he went away.
MR. O'CONNELL. Q. You say he was sober? A. yes; but I think Welsh was in liquor.
LUKE BURKE (Police-sergeant, V 43). The prisoner gave himself up to me on the morning of the 9th, about 5 o'clock—I had been to his house for him two or three times—I went there about half-past 4 on Monday morning the 7th, and about half-past 2 on the morning of the 8th, in the middle of the night both times—he was not there either time.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you known the prisoner? A. Yes; seven or eight years—he has never given any trouble to the police.
MR. RIBTON to DENIS MULLOY. Q. Have you ever been robbed before? A. Yes; I lost about 12s. 6d. when I went to Walham-green, about five or six months ago—I did not give any one in charge for it—I told some of my mates I had been robbed, but I did not know how—I could not swear to the person—that was the only occasion that I lost money, and said I was robbed—it never happened on any other occasion.
MR. O'CONNELL. Q. Were you sober on that occasion? A. No; I was not, and I did not know who had robbed me—if I knew I should have given information.
MR. RIBTON called
MARY MALONEY . I work at Bagley's market-garden, and live next door but one to the prisoner—I know Mulloy—I know the Saturday night when it was said that he lost his money—on the Sunday morning afterwards, when I went to work, the foreman said to me, "I wonder whether Denis has found his money"—I said, "I will ask him," and I said, "Denis, did you get your money?"—he said, "I did"—I said, "Who had got it?"—he said, "A mate of mine had it"—I said, "I am very glad you found it"—he did not say who the mate was—I did not hear any one ask him if he had been robbed—that was all I heard, and all the women heard it—I am the only one here that heard it—I was summoned here and have been here since Tuesday.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNELL. Q. Who brought you the summons? A. Mrs. Welsh, the prisoner's wife—all the women who were in the garden that day were present when I asked the question—there were about half-adozen, perhaps; I do not think there were more—I am quite sure he answered me, when I asked him if he had got the money.
COURT. Q. Does the prisoner work at a market-gardener's? A. No; I think he worked at a bricklayer's; I do not know where—he never worked at Mr. Bagley's.
JAMES BROOKS . I have known the prisoner eight or nine years—I have never known him charged with any offence—I was along with the prisoner the night on which he is charged with this offence—I was with him, in the Duke's Head, about 20 minutes to 11; not in the Peterborough—that is, I suppose, not quite half a mile from the Peterborough—I did not leave the Peterborough with him, but I met him on the road, and went down part of the way from the Peterborough with him, and we went to the Duke's Head—I stayed there about half an hour with him—I left him about a quarter to 12—I left him there—I am quite sure of that—I did not hear the next day about Mulloy being robbed.
Cross-examined by MR. O'CONNELL. Q. How far was it from the Peterborough Arms that you met him? A. It might have been 250 or 300 yards—it was not at the very end of Eelbrook-common that I met the prisoner; it was in the middle of the common—I was in sight of the Peterborough, but it was dark—the common is between the Peterborough and the Duke's Head—I saw Mulloy that night in the Peterborough—when I met the prisoner I had not seen Mulloy come out from there—he was there
when I came out—I never saw the prisoner in the Peterborough—I overtook him on the common.
MR. RIBTON. Q. What time did you leave the Peterborough? A. I suppose, about 25 minutes to 11—I went to the Duke's Head, and overtook the prisoner on the way—I suppose it was about five minutes from the time I left the Peterborough to the time I overtook Welsh; not more—I did not lose sight of him till 10 minutes to 12, when I left him in the Duke's Head.
MR. O'CONNELL. Q. How long had you been in the Peterborough Arms? A. About two minutes.
COURT. Q. Did you see Mulloy in the house when you were there? A. I did; at about 20 minutes to 11 at night—I did not hear him complaining of anything—I have known Welsh seven or eight years—he was working at the gas works at this time.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his good character.
— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. LLOYD conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH GOVER . I am a widow, living at Lower Tooting—on 8th August, last, I was in Adelaide-street, Strand, about 4 o'clock—two boys were by the side of me, and presently I felt some one at my pocket—I looked down, and said to the boy, "You have been and robbed my pocket of half a crown"—the half-crown lay on the ground; I went to pick it up, and the prisoner, who was one of them, struck me in the face, picked up the money, and ran away—he struck me very severely; I had a very black eye since last Friday week, and feel the bad effects of it now—I came to myself a little, and then went to the corner—Mrs. Harding, my sister-in-law, was with me.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was there a crowd? A. Yes; there were a great many people there, I believe, but I was frightened; I did not look—I did not see many people there before this happened—it happened at the corner of Chandos-street—I saw the two small boys first; it was not the prisoner who was picking my pocket—the first I saw of him was when he picked up the half-crown; and then he gave me the blow.
COURT. Q. Did he strike you before he picked up the half-crown? A. I really cannot say which he did first—he ran away—I do not know what became of the little boys.
SOPHIA HARDING . I am a widow, and live at Bury St. Edmund's—I was with the last witness, and the three lads were just in front of us—I saw the smallest of the three pick her pocket, and throw the half-crown down close to me; the prisoner picked it up, and struck her in the face—I heard her say, "Why, you have picked my pocket"—that was said to the lad who had done it; not to the prisoner—when it fell, she said, "That is my money"—the prisoner then struck her, and they all three ran away—the prosecutrix would have fallen down, had it not been for a man in his shirt sleeves.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner pick up the half-crown before he struck her? A. Yes; he stooped down right in front of me, and picked it up—the boys were further on on the right-hand side—the half-crown rattled
on the pavement when it fell, so that my attention was attracted to it—they all ran away; I cannot say which ran first—there was not a crowd there at that moment—there was in a minute or two.
THOMAS DAVIS . I am a bootmaker, and live at 9, Jermyn-street—on 8th August, about 4 o'clock, I was in Chandos-street—I heard an outcry—I turned round, and saw that something had happened, and the prisoner ran past with two others—they were talking to each other as they passed; I pursued them—there were others following and crying out, "Stop thief"—the principal one amongst those who were following was a man in his shirt stores—the three turned up Bedfordbury, and I turned up with them—the prisoner turned up a court that leads into Bedford-street—I followed him, and he crossed the road, and got among the baskets and the people in Covent-garden; and the next time I saw him was when he was in the custody of the beadle of the market.
Cross-examined. Q. You say they were talking; you have never said a word before of that, have you? A. I cannot say that I was ever asked the question—they were not arm's length from each other when they passed me—I cannot say that I heard what they were saying; they were joking and laughing—I heard the prisoner's voice, and the voices of the other two—very likely the two were talking, and the prisoner not saying anything—they were talking among themselves—the other two boys were less than the prisoner—they were so close to me that one of them touched me as they brushed by.
BARNABUS ALDERMAN . I am one of the beadles of Covent-garden market—on 8th August I was on duty there, about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, and saw the prisoner running at the end of the market, by the church—I ran across the market, and stopped him as he was coming in—there was a mob of people after him; I should say a hundred and fifty—I asked what he had done—he said, "Nothing"—I kept him there till I was afraid we should lose something from the market, and then I put him outside the market—I said, "You must have done something, or you would not have all those people after you"—he said, "Oh, nothing; I hit a woman, that is all"—I gave him in custody to a policeman.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see anything of the others? A. No; nothing.
He was further charged with having been convicted of felony, in June, 1860, at Marlborough, in the name of Southwell; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**†— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
The details of this case were unfit for publication. The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD HART (Police-sergeant, L 1). I produce a certificate, dated 2d August, 1858—I have examined it with the register from which it was taken, and it corresponds (This was a certificate of marriage at St. Luke's, Chelsea, on 2d August, 1858, between Richard Bowden and Mary Ann Elizabeth Baker: Signed,") C. Parsons Hobbs, Curate")—the prisoner was given into my custody on 3d July last.
SARAH COOPER . I live at 48, Queen's-road, and am a widow—I was present at St. Luke's Church, Chelsea, on 2d August, 1858, and saw the prisoner married to Mary Ann Elizabeth Baker—I was one of the bridesmaids, and one of the attesting witnesses in the register—I remember all the circumstances well—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man.
COURT. Q. Did you know them after the marriage? A. Yes; they lived together, and had a baby.
ROSINA PAGE . I have been a dressmaker, and have also been out in service nursing—I live at 11, Lintendon-street, Pimlico—I met the prisoner some time, I think, in the end of 1859, and he made me an offer of marriage—he said he was single—I married him on 25th February, 1860, at the parish church of Poplar—I lived with him six weeks, and then left him to go into a situation, where I remained three weeks—I then returned to him again, and left him again in August, 1861, for a situation in the Isle of Wight, and then returned to him in November, and lived with him till he left me somewhere about ten weeks or three months ago, I cannot say exactly—I heard that he was a married man, and gave him in custody to L 1—I am far advanced in the family way now.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Are you fond of him still? A. Yes; I am quite sure I was never married before—I never went through the ceremony of marriage before—I have never been in a registry office—I wrote these letters (produced) to him since he has been in Newgate.
EMILY FERRIS . My husband's name is Richard, and we live in Poplar—Rosina Page is my sister—she and the prisoner went to church from my house to be married, and came back to dinner—they were at my house for some time—they went out to sleep, but were at my house in the day.
GUILTY .— Confined Four Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LEAK . I lodge at the White Swan public-house, in Bream's-buildings, Chancery-lane—on Monday, 18th August, about 6 in the afternoon, I went into the yard at the back of Swan-court, and as I stood there talking with Mrs. Smithies, in the yard of No. 2, Mrs. Chappel came out of one of her tenant's houses and said to me, "Come into this yard, and I will double you up"—I said, "You can't hurt"—she again said, "Come in the yard, and I will double you up, and rip your b—y guts out"—I replied, "Mrs. Chappel, I have too much love to offer to lift a hand against a woman; it may be if you were a man and struck me, I might turn in my own defence"—a few minutes afterwards, a man named Sullivan came out of one of Mrs. Chappel's tenant's house, and offered to fight me—I said, "My good friend, I will have nothing to do with you; I am no fighter; I never did fight in my life"—as soon as that had passed, he and the prisoner rushed into the yard—I was standing with my hands in my pocket, and a short pipe, and Sullivan came up and struck me on the breast—as soon as he struck me, the prisoner came and caught me by my beard—Sullivan then tried to get hold of my hands to fling me back—they dragged me down into the passage of No. 5, Swan-court, and then the prisoner called out for a pair of scissors and said, "Let's murder the b—y b—r"—Sullivan had hold of my neck-tie behind—I was standing then, and the
prisoner made a strike, and succeeded in stabbing me on the right eye with a pair of scissors, having hold of my beard by the left-hand—I staggered back and was liberated by some gentlemen that stood round in the gateway—I did not lose much blood.
Cross-examined by MR. LLOYD. Q. What o'clock was this? A. A little after 6 in the evening—I cannot say to a quarter of an hour—Mrs. Smithies, to whom I was talking, lives at 2, Swan-court—I cannot say how many other people there were when the prisoner first came out—there might be forty or fifty—there was a great disturbance with the prisoner's tenants before she came out—there was a crowd round her house before she came out, but not where I was—she did not come out and tell me to go away—Mrs. Smithies was asking me to come and have a cup of tea—I was only passing up the yard at the time—there were not a lot of boys with ribbons and things when I was in the yard—the prisoner did not accuse me of damaging her premises—I will swear I did not strike her in the breast with my fist—I did not strike her at all that I know of—I would not swear that I did or that I did not—I might have struck a woman in the struggle—if I did, it was after I was stabbed—I have been there about three months—I was not fighting with Sullivan, nor did the prisoner come out to try to separate us—I did not take to fighting with Sullivan when he came out—I will swear I never said that I saw anyone give her the scissors—I was examined before the Magistrate—Sullivan's wife was in the yard—I mean the wife of the man that struck me—I do not know their names—I never was in the prisoner's yard at all—I have always worn this handkerchief since—the wound is just on the eye-brow.
WILLIAM AKEMAN . I live at 50, Great Wild-street, and am a labourer—I was in William Lee's yard at the time of this occurrence—I saw the prisoner standing against the railings, and Leak in the yard—I heard the prisoner say to him, "Come out here; I will fight you"—he said, "I have got too much love for a woman to fight a woman; if you were a man I would fight;" and with that Sullivan ran round and hit him on the breast—the prisoner directly followed, and caught hold of Mr. Leak's beard with her hands, and then they dragged him down the narrow way of the court; and the prisoner drew a pair of scissors and stabbed him in the right eye, and said, "We will murder the b—y b—r."
Cross-examined. Q. When you first went there, how many people were there? A. I suppose, about half a dawn—she did not call out to any one to give her scissors—Sullivan was fighting with the prosecutor—the prisoner did not go to try and separate them—Mrs. Sullivan was there assisting her husband—I suppose there were altogether about half a dozen people there fighting—I was there collecting the rents for my landlord.
JOSEPH JENKINS . I live at 20, Cursitor-street, Chancery-lane—I heard a noise, and went to this court—I saw the prisoner and Leak in the yard—I heard the prisoner challenge him to fight; and he said he had too much love for a woman; that he would sooner fight a man—I saw Sullivan trying to get out at the door, and Mrs. Sullivan was trying to pull him back; he went in the passage, and said he was going home, and at last he got away, and rushed into the yard, and struck Leak—the prisoner seized Leak by the beard, and pulled him out of the crowd up to the tap-room window, drew a pair of scissors from her pocket, and tried to cut his beard; and when she could not, she took and stabbed him in the eye; and I held my arm up, which prevented the blow there.
Cross-examined. Q. What made you go there? A. A little girl came
and cried out "Murder"—there were about twenty people when I got there; not a great crowd; there was a great noise with a little girl, but nothing to do with this case.
COURT. Q. Did the blow on the eye seem to you to be an accident? A. No; if it had not been for my arm, which I raised, it would have cut the man's eye out.
JAMES KEMP . I keep the White Swan public-house, in Bream's-buildings—about 6 o'clock on the 28th, I went into the tap-room, and on looking out of the window, I saw the prisoner and Leak fighting; I saw the prisoner strike him—I did not see anything in her hand, but I saw his eye bleeding afterwards; and I took him to the hospital.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the last witness there? A. He was there—I did not see him trying to arrest the prisoner's arm—he was out in the passage witnessing it—I cannot say whether he was with them—I did not see him struggling along with them—he might have been, perhaps, two or three feet from them when this wound was inflicted.
EMMA LEE . I am the wife of William Lee, of 2, Swan's-place, Bream's-buildings—I was in the yard, and saw Leak there—the prisoner leant over the palings—I heard her say, "I should like to fight you"—he said, "My good woman, I don't wish to fight you; I love a woman too well to fight her;" and with that the prisoner bounced into my yard, rushed on Leak, and struck him a fearful blow—then Sullivan came in directly afterwards, and bounced on him as well, and dragged him out from the yard to the end of the drain, where she swore that she would rip his guts out; and I saw her deliberately put her hand in her pocket, and take out a pair of embroidery scissors, I think, or something of that sort, and she took hold of Leak and deliberately put them into his eye.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see her attempting to cut his beard? A. I did, but she did not do it—I saw Jenkins there—he was close by when it occurred, and I saw him knock the prisoner's arm down—he was obliged to do so to get the scissors from her.
JOHN SEBASTIAN WESLEY . I was assistant house-surgeon at King's College Hospital when Leak was brought there on the 18th, between 6 and 7 o'clock—I examined him and found a slight punctured wound on the right eye-brow—I washed it and found there was a very small opening—the upper eyelid was much swollen—had it been half an inch lower it might have caused very severe injury.
Cross-examined. Q. How deep was the wound? A. I did not probe it; it was very slight; it could not have gone deep without penetrating the bone—it is just such a wound as might be expected to be caused by the point of a pair of scisssors—I should think it impossible to have been caused by a key, unless it was one with a jagged edge; that might have caused it.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:
"Yesterday some parties brought fifty or sixty boy's round my house with their heads trimmed with ribbon. I was on the step of my house, when a message was brought to me, that Leak was at the back doing a great deal of damage. I went to the back and he made his way into my yard; I then asked him how he came to commit the depredations he had on my premises; he told me that he came thinking my b—y husband would come out to fight him; I told him Mr. Chappel was not at home, and I wished for no quarrelling; he then said, "Bring any other man;" Mr. Sullivan then came round and said, "Why do you want to quarrel with her?" Leak then said, "Will you fight me?" Sullivan said, "Yes;" and they took
their jackets off. I, not wishing to see Mr. Sullivan got into trouble, placed myself between them, and immediately I did so, the man Leak struck me upon my breast and I fell. I did not strike him at all."
Witnesses for the Defence.
MARY ANN PAUL . I live at 13, Church-passage, Chancery-lane—between 6 and 7 o'clock on the night of this occurrence I was standing talking to the prisoner, at her door—a message was brought to her, after which she went to see who was destroying the place—she went through into the yard, I followed her, and when she got through, the prosecutor was standing in the opposite yard and began quarrelling with her; he said he would fight her b—y husband, and she said her husband was not at home—he said he would fight any other b—y man that would come to take her part—with that, Mr. Sullivan came out and stood before her, and said if he wanted to fight he would fight him—the two men stripped and began fighting—the prisoner went between them to part them, but could not do so—I endeavoured to help her, but we could not part them, and Mrs. Sullivan, seeing her husband getting the worst of it, came out and struck at the prosecutor, over the prisoner, with a room door-key in her hand, and it was that key that gave the blow in the eye—I saw that myself, and took the key out of her hand after it was over—I have not the key here; it is Mrs. Sullivan's room door-key, not a latchkey—she had it on her thumb when she came out, and the edge of the ward caught the man on the eye—there was a great mob in the place.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Did you see a pair of scissors in her hand? A. I did not, nor in anybody else's—I saw the prosecutor bleed immediately after Mrs. Sullivan struck him—the prisoner was not near his head at the time; they were all close in together—I did not see any one take the prosecutor by the beard—nothing was said about cutting his beard—Mrs. Sullivan was near him—the prisoner was not near him when the blow was struck, she was not a great way off.
ANNE SULLIVAN . I live at 14, White's-alley, Chancery-lane—on the night of this row, being in the yard by No. 12, I went round with the prisoner, she went through and opened the back-door—the prosecutor was standing inside the railings in the yard in Swan-court, and he asked her where she was going, or where was her b—y husband, or any b—y man that would take her part—the prisoner said she had no man, that her husband was not at home, and that she had no one to back her—my husband came round and said that he was a man and that Mrs. Chappel was not, and he would take her part himself—the two men then rushed on one another and began to fight—the prisoner went between them, and said, "Sullivan, I want no one to get into trouble for me," so the prosecutor's wife made at the prisoner, caught her, and the prosecutor made a blow at her and hit her in the left breast—I saw my husband being hit, and I had the key of my door in my hand, and I hit the prosecutor in the eye with it twice—I have not brought the key here—I have got the mark of the ring on my finger—I can solemnly swear the prisoner had no scissors nor instrument whatever in her hand.
COURT. Q. Why, were you looking at her all the time? A. Yes; I was with her all the time—she is a respectable married woman, and has four or five children—I succeeded in hitting Leak twice over the eye.
Cross-examined. Q. Your husband is working out fourteen days for this, is he not? A. He has got fourteen days.
MR. LLOYD. Q. Is it for this occurrence? A. yes; for assaulting the prosecutor.
DANIEL KELLY . I live at 3, Ely-court, Holborn-hill, and am a porter—on Monday evening last, about 6 o'clock, I was in Bream's-buildings—the prosecutor and Sullivan were going to fight as I came down, and all at once I saw them rush at one another—the prisoner and Mrs. Sullivan got between them, and I saw Mrs. Sullivan hit the man with the key—I could not exactly say where she hit him, but I saw her use the key which was in her hand—there were a lot of people about, I could not exactly see—I saw her raise her hand up with the key and make a blow—the prosecutor was in Swan-court—I saw no scissors in the hands of the prisoner, for I saw her hands open.
COURT. Q. Did you see the man dragged away from the court into the passage? A. I saw them all pulling and dragging as they were together, with the woman and themselves together—I do not know what time Jenkins and Kemp came up—the blow was struck at the same place that the prosecutor and Sullivan had been fighting at.
Cross-examined. Q. You were not there till after it was all over? A. Yes, I was.
COURT to J. S. WESLEY. Q. Did you see marks on the eye-brow of two blows from a door-key? A. The eye-brow and part of the eye was very black, and my impression was that, in addition to a wound with a sharp instrument, there most have been a violent blow; that was because I found so much contusion—I think it impossible that the blow with the key could have produced all the appearances which I saw—I said that if it had been a jagged key it might have produced the punctured wound, but it was not sufficient to produce the discolouration—the key only could not have produced the appearances, unless the hand had struck as well—the sharp punctured wound is not nearly so likely to have been caused by the end of a key, or by the edge of a ward, as by the point of scissors.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Confined Four Months
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES HARRIS . I am a labourer, living at Hairbrain-court, Royal Mint-street, Whitechapel—I knew the prisoner when I had my eyesight—she lives nearly opposite me, in the same court—last Saturday three weeks, I came home into the court between 9 and 10 o'clock at night—I found there was some disturbance in the court, and I walked out again—when I last came home I found the prisoner's mother and my wife having a few words—I walked in-doors and told my wife to fetch me out a chair; she did so, and I sat down and was unlacing my boots, and the prisoner's mother came over, struck me twice in the face, spat in my face, and called me a blind bastard—I shoved her away from me, and while so doing, and getting up from my chair, the prisoner threw a jug or bason, I cannot say exactly which, and struck me on the breast—I was crossing over to run after her when my wife, or some other woman, laid hold of me and detained me—during that time the prisoner, I believe, ran up stairs and fetched down another missile—she struck me over the forehead with it, and out a small gash over my eye, saying, "There, I'll blind you if I can't do nothing else"—I wrenched myself from my wife's hands, and from the other persons, and ran after the prisoner—her mother and sister were standing at the door, and they detained me from running after her; and while I was wrangling and jawing with them, she ran down again, jumped down the steps, and gouged me in the eye with
some small instrument, a key or something, I could not tell what it was—I directly cried out, "My eye is out"—two of the neighbours laid hold of me, led me in-doors, and detained me there till they fetched a police-constable; they gave the prisoner in charge, and two of the neighbours led me up to the police-station, and I gave the charge, and from there they took me to the London Hospital—I lost the sight of my right-eye three years ago last September—I did not strike the prisoner or do anything to her—I did not know at the time that she was in the court; I do not believe she was, at the time the quarrel was going on with my wife.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Was the quarrel with your wife when you first entered the court? A. No, the second time—there was a disturbance going on at the end of the court, when I entered the first time; but I walked out again with a friend, and we went to a public-house, and had two or three glasses of ale, and came back again by the time the prisoner's mother and my wife were having a few words—I did not strike a woman who was very large in the family-way—I was shoving my wife in, and the prisoner's mother insulted me and called me beastly names, not fit for any person to listen to—the prisoner did not interfere in consequence of my shoving my wife into the house; she was not there at the time—she first appeared when the mother was striking me, and spitting in my face, and calling me a blind bastard—I might have had the share of half a dozen pots of ale and porter, between four or five of us, that afternoon; I knew what I was about—I am certain we had not drunk three pots a piece—I might have drunk from three pints to two pots, I dare say.
MICHAEL ROBERTS . I live at 3, White-yard, Royal Mint-street, Whitechapel—I was in Hairbrain-court, between 12 and 1 o'clock, on this Sunday morning; and, seeing a disturbance between the prisoner's mother and Harris, I went and said, "Harris, you had better go in-doors"—I took him in-doors and he sat down for about five minutes, and then came out again—the prisoner then came and said, "I will give it you"—she ran up stairs, fetched something down, I cannot say what, and chucked it at Harris—she went up stairs again, fetched down a jug or basin, or whatever it might be, and caught him over the eye—I saw that, and saw him bleed from the eye after it—I heard something fall on the ground, as if from his face—he seemed to be quite sober.
Cross-examined. Q. You had been with him, had you not? A. No, I was coming from a friendly lend in Royal Mint-street, about 12 o'clock—I did not see the commencement of the disturbance between the prisoner's mother and Harris—there was a regular Irish row going on in the court—I cannot tell what it was that the prisoner threw at the prosecutor; it was rather dark at the time—there was a gas lamp at the other end of the court—it dropped against my feet the second time; that is how I know it was either a jug or a basin—it was lighter at the other end of the court than at the end we were at.
COURT. Q. Was the thing thrown the second time when the man's eye were hurt? A. Thrown—she came within four or five yards of him, and threw it at him—I was not there when he was led in, and when the police were sent for—I did not see all of it—after the missile fell against my feet he said, "My eye's out"—the prisoner had not come nearer to him than four or five yards when he said that—I went a little distance down from them; I did not see where he went to.
then totally blind; he had previously lost the sight of the right eye; the globe of the left was ruptured; he could not see at all—the left eye was the injured one—that had been recently done—we thought at the time that he was totally blind; he has since been able to see the outline of forms; but his sight will be permanently seriously hurt—the blunt part of a key or any blunt instrument might have done it; a knuckle or a thumb might have done it—Harris was perfectly sober.
THOMAS ROBBINS (Policeman, H 157). I took the prisoner on 27th July, and told her it was for an assault and gouging a man's eye out—she told me I could not take her out of the room, I must summons her; I took her to the station.
DAVID HYMAN DYTE (re-examined). The injury might have been produced by gouging the eye, because the internal parts of the eye were smashed, or from throwing some blunt instrument—it was equally consistent with some one having gouged the eye with the thumb, or from some hard thing which came from a distance.
MR. WILLIAMS called
LUCY MALONEY . I live at 2, Hairbrain-court—I was present when the policeman was fetched to give the prisoner into custody; the prosecutor was present then—the prisoner was in-doors in her own place; she never did anything to him.
COURT. Q. The policeman, came up and took her, in her own room, and she had never been out or done anything to the prosecutor? A. No.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Were you present when the row took place? A. Yes; the prisoner was not there at all then—the blow was given by James Harris, and she never gave the blow—I was there the whole time—there were no jugs or basins or things flying about in the court—Harris expressed low-like language when the policeman came—he did not know who she was when he went and pressed the charge against her at the station.
Prisoner. That is the woman that did it herself.
GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, August 22nd, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. COPELAND, M.P.; Mr. Ald. GIBBONS; and ROBERT
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH EDMOND SMITH . I am a warehouseman, and live at 4, Nelsonterrace, Dalston—between 1 and 2 o'clock, on the morning of 9th July, I was at the Threadneedle-street end of Bartholomew-lane—a woman accosted me before I got there—she laid hold of my arm, and I pushed her off twice or thrice—when I got to the corner of the lane the prisoner sprang in front of me, like an apparition from the ground, and said, "The way to Shoreditch"—I said, "Yonder," and immediately he snatched my watch away—I cannot tell where the man came from—I had my watch secured with a chain through my button-hole, and in my waistcoat-pocket—it cost about seven guineas—at the time he snatched it, a man behind me hit me on the back of the neck—I cannot tell where he came from or what became of
him—the prisoner ran down the lane—I laid hold of him by the coat, and the coat gave way, and the man at the back of me struck me or pushed me at the back of the neck—I lost my hold, and the prisoner ran down the lane—when he got to the end of the lane he doubled himself up, and had I not thrown myself back, I should have gone over him—I cried out, "Stop thief!" as loud as I could, and the prisoner turned back and came up Bartholomew-lane again—a constable then came and took him—I had not lost sight of him for a moment.
Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. You had been spending the evening in London, I suppose? A. Yes—I am married—I had been out to dinner with some friends; we dined between 8 and 9 o'clock—I cannot say exactly what time I left; it might have been between 12 and 1; it was a sick club dinner, in St. Martin's-lane—it took me an hour to get to the Mansion-house from there; I took it quietly—I had enjoyed myself—I was not the worse for liquor; of course I had been drinking; we were not exactly jolly, we were all capable of taking care of ourselves—I first met with the woman at the Bank, in Threadneedle-street; that was on my road home—I had just passed the Mansion-house and was going up Threadneedle-street—she spoke to me first; I was walking with her about two minutes, I should think, not longer—she did not talk to me—I had nothing to say to her; she kept walking with me all the same; not very close—I walked to the corner of Bartholomew-lane, and there somebody jumped at me, and I then ran after him—I shoved the woman off with my elbow—I was about three yards off when the policeman caught the prisoner.
MR. ROWDEN. Q. Are you quite sure that this apparition from the ground was a man who took your watch? A. Yes; I was not drunk.
WILLIAM EDNEY (City-policeman, 448). About half-past 1, on the morning of 9th July, I was in Threadneedle-street, and saw the prisoner running, and the prosecutor after him—the prosecutor was a little fresh, middling—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and I stopped the prisoner—I found on him at the station 2d., and old umbrella, a pair of gloves, a handkerchief, and three thimbles.
Cross-examined. Q. The prosecutor was middling, you say? A. Of course he had had a glass or two; he was not drunk in my opinion—I have been, in the police force six months—the prosecutor spoke to me first—I had then got hold of the prisoner—I am quite sure it was not the prisoner who spoke to me first—he did not say, "That man has accused me of stealing a watch;" and I did not say, "If he has, you must come to the station"—nothing of that sort—I took him in custody before the prosecutor came up; the prosecutor was about five yards behind him—they were going at a good speed—the prosecutor said he should like to give him a good hammering; he might have said he would smash him—he might have said he should like to cut him to pieces; he did not say he would quarter him.
COURT. Q. How far was this from the corner of Bartholomew-lane? A. It was just opposite the Exchange-buildings—I looked for this watch; but I could not find it anywhere—I looked for it when I came back; after I took the prisoner to the station—there was a fireman passing when I took the prisoner, and the prisoner said, "It is not me; it is the fireman who has got the watch."
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
was in the neighbourhood of Kennington, in Gloucester-road, and saw the prisoner running along with a gelding, leading it—I followed him, and stopped him in the middle of the road, in the neighbourhood of Chelsea—I said to him, "Whose pony have you got there?"—he said, "Mine"—I said, "Where did you get it from?" and he said, "I bought it on Monday at Smithfield-market, and gave 8l. for it"—I knew the pony—it belonged to William Bowman, of 3, Palace-place, Channing's-place, Kensington, about three-quarters of a mile from where I first saw the pony—I then took the prisoner into custody—the pony was in a little field adjoining the Gloucester-road—this was about half-past 4 in the morning.
Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. Have you known the prisoner long? A. No; I knew nothing about him—I have made inquiries about him of his father and mother, and they said he had had several attacks of unsound mind.
Prisoner. I got my brains knocked out, and got two months for giving a piece of wood away.
WILLIAM BOWMAN . I live at 3, Palace-place, Kensington, within threequarters of a mile of Gloucester-road, and am a coke-dealer—on the evening of 29th July I had a gelding pony in a field—I put him into the field at 10 o'clock at night, and closed the gate—the pony was tied up with a piece of rope to a halter round his neck, and the other end fastened to a stake—I fastened the gate with a chain—the pony was worth 10l.—I saw somebody in the lane next to the field when I tied him up, about 200 yards off—I could almost swear it was the prisoner—he turned his back to me—I did not know anything about losing the pony till the policeman came—I went to the station next day, and saw the pony and the prisoner there—I went to the field also, and found two dozen and a half of cauliflowers in a sack.
THOMAS BOCKING (Police-inspector). I went into the cell in which the prisoner was confined on the morning of the 30th—I said, "What have you been doing now?"—he said, "Only stealing a pony"—I said, "You know the consequences;" and he said, "I suppose I shall only get a twelvemonth, and the longer I get the more meat I shall get to eat."
Cross-examined. Q. You knew the prisoner, I suppose? A. Yes; I have heard that he had not been so right in his head as he should be.
MR. ROWDEN. Q. Who did you hear that from? A. From his mother—I have known him twelve months—I have never seen anything in him myself to lead to that conclusion.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy on account of the circumstances stated. — Confined Twelve Months.
MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH OVILAND . I am a widow, and live at 9, Hanover-street, Bermondsey—on 10th July last, about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, I was coming over London-bridge—I had a purse in my pocket, containing 1l. 19s.—I last felt it safe about three minutes before—I felt the prisoner's hand in my pocket, and I caught hold of his arm—he twisted from me and went to the other side of the bridge—I examined my pocket the moment he left, and the purse was gone—the prisoner had a coat on his arm—my sister was with me—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. How long was it after you had missed the purse that you saw the prisoner again? A. I cannot say—I waited
some time on the bridge; not so long as half an hour; I think it was a quarter—we were walking as fast as we could—my sister was walking on my left side, and the purse was in my pocket on my right—I had never seen this person before I felt the hand—I think the coat was on his left arm; I am not certain—when the policeman brought him back I said, "He had a coat on his arm"—that was the first thing that I said—I said, "Where is the coat he had on his arm?" and the policeman said, "He has got two coats on"—I said, "That is the man that robbed me," before I mentioned the coat—the man who took my purse left me immediately and crossed over the road—there was not a great deal of traffic at the time he crossed the bridge; not so many vehicles but that he could go across easily—there were omnibusses and cabs passing—I then lost sight of him—I did not see the purse in his hand when he took it.
MR. BEST. Q. Had you such an opportunity of seeing him that you can swear he is the man? A. Yes; I saw his side face.
SARAH BARNARD . I am the wife of Charles Barnard, of 9, Hanover-street, Bermondsey—I was accompanying my sister over London-bridge on the 10th, and saw her take hold of a man's arm, and saw him run across the road—it was the prisoner—I called out for police—the prisoner ran, and the police ran after him—I saw his face—he is the man the police ran after, the same man who had his hand in my sister's pocket.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean, to tell us that this transaction all happened in a moment? A. Yes—I had a baby on my arm—I had a full opportunity of seeing the man's face—my sister said, "Oh Sarah, that man has taken my purse"—he ran before us—I knew his face again as soon as I saw the police bring him up—when he came up the policeman said, "He has two coats on," and my sister then said, "He is the man."
THOMAS BEADLE (City-policeman, 535). I was on duty on London-bridge, about 5 o'clock in the evening of 10th July—I saw the prosecutrix, and she told me to stop the prisoner, as he had robbed her of her purse—he was then running—he had one coat on and another on his arm—I followed him—he ran down the Borough, down St. Thomas'-street on the left, and then took the first turning on the right to Guy's Hospital, and then he turned to the left again, when I lost sight of him—I then saw one of our officers, Sergeant Funnell, who beckoned to me, and in consequence of something, I went into the parlour of the Wheat Sheaf public-house, and found the prisoner there—he had put on the coat which he had had on his arm—he had two coats on—I took him back to London-bridge—I searched him in the middle of the road, and found 1s. and a halfpenny on him—I did not find the purse—I brought him back to the prosecutrix at the foot of the bridge—as soon as I got back she and the witness identified him—he refused his address at the station.
Cross-examined. Q. How far was the prisoner from you when the prosecutrix spoke to you about her purse? A. About seven or eight yards, and in flight as fast as he could go—I was in the middle of the road regulating the traffic—I lost sight of him when he turned to the right and then to the left—he was alone in the parlour—there was no drink before him—I only opened the parlour door once—I did not ask him how long he had been there—I don't remember whether he said he had been there twenty minutes or half an hour—the prosecutrix identified him the moment she saw him—she said, "He had one coat on, but he has two now"—I said, "Yes; I am aware he has"—she said he had a coat on his arm—I don't remember whether she then said, "He is the man."
MR. BEST. Q. Were these coats the same colour? A. No; the coat he had on was something of a tweed colour; the one he had on his arm was a black coat; and the one he had on at the public-house was a black one, over the tweed one.
GUILTY .†— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Fourteen Days.
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
OLYMPUS MATTHEWS . I am an engine-driver, residing at the Metropolitan Chambers, Albert-street, Mile-end—on the night of 12th August, between 10 and 11 o'clock, I was in the Whitechapel-road, when I received a blow on my left jaw which knocked me down—I received another on the left shoulder when I was down, immediately after—I have been deprived of the use of my arm ever since—I turned round at the time the second blow struck me, and saw a piece of a crutch fall off my shoulder—I saw the prisoner about to his me again, and I caught it on my right arm, and it broke on my arm; it broke in three pieces—I followed the prisoner up—at this time the crowd was collecting pretty fast—I found I could not handle him myself, and I sung out for the police, and he was taken into custody—the glands of my neck are affected, and all the teeth in my left jaw loosened—I had never seen the prisoner before, to my knowledge—I knew nothing about him till the blows descended on me—I cannot tell whether he had mistaken me for any other man—I heard him say, going to the station-house, "You did not think a cripple could fetch you down as easy"—when the policeman had him in charge I asked him what was the reason he had used the violence, and he made no reply—I went to the police-court, and the doctor attended me there—I have been under surgical care.
Prisoner. Q. Are you an engine-driver? A. I have driven an engine for the last three years—I am not a practical engineer—I did not serve my time—I never saw you before—I did not see you hit me in the first instance—I did not know where the blow came from at first—I know it was with the crutch that I was struck.
JOSEPH WILKINS (Policeman, H 213). The prisoner was given into my custody on the 12th, charged with violently assaulting this man with his crutch—this is the crutch (produced)—I picked it up at the prisoner's feet—the prosecutor was bleeding very much indeed; he seemed as if he had been seriously injured—the prisoner said to him, "I suppose you thought a cripple could not fetch you down, but I will let you know all about it when we get to the station"—he did not explain anything at the station, not the least.
Prisoner. Q. What was the conversation—from Whitechapel to Leman-street station? A. I cannot tell all that passed—the prosecutor asked you what you had done it for, frequently—I cannot tell all that passed; I had too much trouble with you, and there were a great many people round me.
SARAH CRAWLEY . I am a single woman, and reside at 3, Osborn-place, Brick-lane, Spitalfields—on the 12th of this month, I was in the Whitechapel-road, and saw the prosecutor and the prisoner there—I saw the prisoner strike the prosecutor with this crutch—he broke it over him—he struck him over the left jaw, and over the left shoulder—I called "Police," and the prisoner
was given into custody—the prosecutor was bleeding a great deal—I did not see him do anything at all to the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. Why did not you go to the police-station and court to give evidence? A. I followed the prosecutor right up to the station, but I could not get in—I met the policeman on the Wednesday night; he asked me if I saw it, and I told him I saw the whole of it.
GRANGER TANDY . I am a surgeon, and reside at 7, Spital-square—I went down to Leman-street station to see the prosecutor on the 12th—I found a severe lacerated wound on the left side of the lower lip, completely dividing it; also a contused wound on the left shoulder, another on the lower end of the right forearm, and another on the back of the hand—he had been severely wounded, and had lost a considerable quanity of blood—the jaw was not injured, although it quite divided it—this crutch would produce such wounds—I have seen the prosecutor occasionally since—he is still without the use of his left arm.
Prisoner's Defence. As I was proceeding down Whitechapel, a man came and took my crutch from me, and delivered the blow to the prosecutor. He called on the crowd to surround him, and give him in charge. He then ran away, and laid the crutch down at my feet. The next morning at the police-court a man swore he saw me do it; and the second day that woman made her appearance, and swore that I was the man who did it. I have lost the greater part of my foot, and am a cripple.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Confined Eighteen Months
903. JULIUS FREDLAND (36) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of George Secker, and stealing therein 7 watch chains, 22 neck chains, 2 watches, 1 key, 1 swivel, 10 brooches, and 20 ornaments, his property. Second Count, feloniously receiving the same.
GEORGE SECKER . I am a jeweller, carrying on business at 119, High-street, Camden-town—on the night of 28th May, I had a large stock of jewellery, value 1,500l.—I live in the house—I saw to the fastenings that night—in the morning I discovered the shop in confusion, the wooden trays on the floor, and the window open—I afterwards found that a hole had been made in the party-wall from an empty house adjoining—I missed property to the value of about 800l., principally watches and chains, also brooches, charms, and keys; that was the general character of the property—a person of the name of Harrison was prosecuted by me at the Middlesex Sessions, and convicted.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. He was convicted of receiving, was he not? A. Of housebreaking, I believe.
THOMAS EVANS (Policeman, G 22). On 14th July, I went to Mr. Josephs, a refiner, in Aldersgate-street, City—I saw Mr. Josephs, and told him I had received information that he had got some chains—I did not see the prisoner there—he gave me these seven Albert chains (produced)—that was the first time I went—he also gave me a key and five neck chains—I saw the prisoner later on that day at the police-station—I showed him the chains, and told him they had been identified by Mr. Secker as being a portion of the chains that were stolen from his premises on the night of 28th May, when a burglary had been committed—I said, "You will be charged with having them in your possession; can you give any account of them?"—he said, "I bought them of a man named Myers at my own residence, 1, Kenilworth-road, Bethnal-green"—he did not give me Myers's address—he said he did not know where
he lived—I went to the prisoner's address, and searched the house—it is a four roomed house with a small kitchen at the back—it is a private house—there was no symptom of a jewellery business there—on searching a bedroom, in a waistcoast pocket I found this gold swivel—it looks like one on one of the chains—it was hanging across the bedstead—while I was at the police station Mr. Josephs gave me two watch-cases—the prisoner said he had been in the habit of meeting Myers at different sales—on 22d July I got these ten chains from Mr. Josephs; and on that day, from some information I received, I went to 5, Lamb's Conduit-street, to a watchmaker of the name of Reiss—I there found five gold brooches, twelve gold charms, two gold watches, and one silver-gilt watch—I know Harrison—I did not see Fredland on the day he was taken into custody—I saw him on the Saturday previous, the 7th—I saw him drive up in a chaise, and go into Harrison's house.
Cross-examined. Q. He told you what he was, did he not? A. He said he was a dealer in jewellery—I believe he is—I never saw him sell any—I have seen him go into different jewellers' shops—I know that he is a dealer in jewellery—there are several persons of the name of Myers, dealers in jewellery—I don't know whether a particular man, named Myers, has been absent since this investigation has been going on—I have found no one absent of that name—I heard Mr. Josephs say at the police-court that there was a Myers who often came to him—I have not inquired for that particular man—such things as these are sold at public sales—he did not offer, to my knowledge or in my presence, to go round to the sale-rooms and show me where he had seen Myers.
MR. ATKINSON. Q. Did Mr. Josephs tell you there was more than one Myers? A. Yes, he said there were several.
EDWARD JOSEPHS . I am a gold-refiner at 81, Aldersgate-street—am acquainted with the prisoner—I recollect buying some chains of him—I bought these ten chains on 2d July at 32s. the ounce—I have books—I also bought a portion of a larger quantity of chains—we purchase them by weight—there were thirty-two or thirty ounces altogether—I bought seven Albert chains, a key, and five neck-chains, also on that day—I had bought something before that—I cannot tell the exact dates, but about a fortnight previously, about the middle of June—I bought some diamonds then—they were sold—I bought them of the prisoner—I got the ten chains on 2d July—they were all purchased together—he came again on 14th, when I had received some information—he then offered me some gold watch-cases, which are here—I detained him in conversation, and a police-officer was sent for.
Cross-examined. Q. I see these are parts of cases broken? A. Yes—it is not at all unusual to sell them—I frequently dealt with the prisoner before this—I knew him as a dealer in jewellery—I know three persons named Myers, I think, who deal in jewellery—one of those I have not seen for some time, not since the time this robbery was committed, I believe—I have their addresses at home—the police have not made any effort to find that person—I had an order from the prisoner to sell him some watches—he hawked jewellery about—there are plenty of persons who deal in jewellery without keeping a shop—I sold the prisoner a watch a few days before this, and he came and said if I could get him a dozen, he would take them—these things are hawked about, and if they find a customer who wants a particular class of goods, they buy and sell—when I bought the gold chains of the prisoner on 2d July, I put them in the window in his presence—he came again on 14th, and I had a communication with the
police on that morning—there were other people in the shop when he brought the things on 2d—it was done quite openly—I gave the fair trade price for those articles—they are various qualities—they are not so good as you would get them if you went to Hancock's, perhaps.
ALBERT REISS . I am a watchmaker, carrying on business in Lambs Conduit-street—I remember buying some jewellery of the prisoner in the beginning of July—I keep some books—it was about a fortnight before the officer came to my shop I bought five brooches, three watches, and twelve charms—I bought the charms and the brooches by the ounce—I gave him 35s. an ounce—I paid him about 14l. altogether.
Cross-examined. Q. Was that a fair price for the whole? A. Yes, I reckoned it a fair price for the whole—first-rate pure gold is worth about 3l. per ounce—that was not first-rate gold—this was done in an open way—the prisoner came to my shop—the door was open—there was no concealment at all about the transaction—I have known the prisoner for nine years—I have known him as a dealer in jewellery for the last four or five years.
GEORGE SECKER (re-examined.) I identify all these things as my property—it was all new, with the exception of one chain—there is a swivel here, which belongs to a chain from which it has been separated—the mamufacturing price of these articles is 40s. an ounce for the gold, and about 15s. an ounce for the fashion; on an average, 55s. an ounce altogether.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you make those yourself? A. No—I know the relative portions of pure gold in them—I know they are the class that they are represented to be—I have not tested them at all—I am not an assayer.
COURT. Q. How long have you dealt in those articles? A. Fifteen years—I was brought up to the trade—I paid 40s. for these, and so much for the fashion.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Do you not know that some persons in the trade are sometimes driven to sell them by auction? A. Yes, and they get into the market at a reduced price—I believe that is so.
JAMES SMEE . I am an extensive manufacturer of articles of this character—I manufactured the chains, and nearly the whole of the Alberts—the gold I sold at 40s. an ounce, and a certain amount for the fashion, 10s., 12s., 14s., some less—the Alberts would be about 5s. 6d. or 6s.; the value of the gold in these is 31s. 6d.; they are marked 9 carat—they would produce that if melted down—any one would know they were new goods—there could be no mistake—any boy of twelve, brought up to the trade, would know they were new goods.
THE COURT considered that there was no evidence against the prisoner as to the burglary.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. WAY conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES BUTCHER (Policeman, C 137). On 16th July last, about 12 o'clock, from information I received, I went to the house of Mr. Palmer, 6A, West-street, Soho—I went down into the back-yard to the dust-hole, and there found this ingot of tin nearly covered with dust—I could just discern one end of it—I concealed myself in a cellar something similar to a wine or coal-cellar—I remained there till about 1 or half-past, when the prisoner Still and another man not in custody came down to the dust-hole with a basket and shovel—the other man reached over into the dust-hole, and took
out the ingot of tin, and put it into the basket—Still was close to him at that time—he could see the ingot put in—he had the shovel in his hand, and he filled the basket with dust, and helped it on to the other man's back—he took it up stairs, came down again, took up one more basket full of dust, and then both left—they went into Litchfield-street, close by, and took away some more dust—I followed them round into another street, where the other man, not in custody, and Still, both got up into the cart, wrapped the ingot up in some old dirty pieces of rag that they had picked out of the dust, and put it into a sack or bag—they then finished their load there, and went away both together—I and Ewell, a foreman of the firm, followed them to the corner of Upper Ground-street, Blackfriar's-road—I was in plain clothes—the cart stopped there, and Still took the sack from the cart, and went to 35, Upper Ground-street, the prisoner Barker's shop—he went into the shop, and went through into the back-parlour—I remained there a minute or so—another man, neither of the prisoners, came out of the shop—I stopped him, and asked what he had—we both went back into the shop together—the two prisoners were there in the back-parlour together—I asked Still what he had done with the piece of tin which he had just brought in—he said he knew nothing of it whatever; he did not know what I meant—I then asked Barker if he was the man belonging to the shop—he said "Yes"—I asked him for the piece of tin that the other man had just brought in—he said he knew nothing of it; he had not seen anything—(I had told him I was a constable)—I said I was quite sure he had brought it there, for I had hardly lost sight of him since he took it from the house where it came from—Barker replied that he knew nothing of it whatever—I said I should search the house for it, for I was quite sure it was there—I went through into the back-parlour, where both prisoners had just come from, and in amongst a lot of rags, piled up in separate lots, just between the partition of one pile from the other, this piece of tin was put, a few inches under the rags—it was not in the sack in which I had seen it—Still had the sack in his hand when he came out of the parlour.
Cross-examined by MR. KEMP. (For Barker). Q. Do Barker's premises consist first of a shop, then a parlour, and then a yard? A. Yes—I do not think you can see into the yard from the shop—I afterwards saw the man at the police-court who I saw at the shop—that is the man (looking at a man named Cook, who was here called in)—he told me he had been in to see some rubbish—I have no doubt he had the same opportunity of seeing that I had—I saw Still go into the shop—I followed him in about a minute or so—they were then both in the back-parlour—the partition between the shop and parlour is merely a slight wooden one—the door was closed—at the time I first went in Barker was not in the yard sorting or shooting rags—I don't know what he had been doing—there were no rags in the backyard; there was some paper—he was not doing anything with that when I went in; he told me he had been—I did not hear anything that took place between the prisoners in the parlour—I don't think they spoke—when Barker came into the shop he did not ask me to search the premises; I swear that—he never made the slightest objection to my searching—I did not take Cook into custody—I asked him what he had taken in—I saw two or three women there—Barker did not, in their presence, or Cook's, first ask me to search the premises—I said I should search—it was not on Barker's suggestion that I searched—I heard Still say at the police-court that Barker knew nothing of the tin—I searched Still, and found 6s. 8d. on him—I believe the tin is worth 28s.
of 6A, West-street, Soho—on 18th July last, I went, in company with the last witness, to Upper Ground-street—I met him on Mr. Palmer's premises—I was with him watching all the way—I saw Still go into Barker's shop, and saw this ingot of tin produced—it is Mr. Palmer's property—we get these in large ingots, and make them into small ones—we never sell these—there may be other moulds in the line, but I am not aware of it.
Still. Q. Have you any idea who put that ingot there? A. No—we lost two ingots on the Friday previous, and we searched all the premises, and found this one in the dust bin—it was left in the same position as we found it—it stood on the top of the dust—it was nearly covered with dust.
MR. KEMP, on behalf of Barker, called
ROBERT COOK . I am a dustman, and live at 6, York-place, Gravel-lane—I took a quantity of paper to Mr. Barker's shop—I saw him take it into the backyard, at the time his man weighed the bones and rags—I saw him do that—I saw him in the backyard with the paper and stuff—I saw Still come in; he followed in behind me—he walked into the little parlour place—he did not go into the yard at all—Barker was in the yard at the time Still went into the parlour—he did not come in till Butcher came, and I was away then—Barker did not know anything about it—I did not see Barker have a word with Still in the parlour—I must have seen if he had, because I was standing in the shop waiting for my money—the door was open—I did not take notice what Still did—he was there by himself—I am confident that Barker had no communication with Still until he came into the shop—when he had shot my paper and stuff he came through the side door into the shop, and Butcher was there then—Still came and stood at the parlour door with his bones and rags ready to weigh at the time Barker came out of the yard—Butcher was then talking with me, and he said I was the man that brought the piece of tin in, and he swore to me—I asked him could he swear to me, and he said, "Yes"—I told him if he was on his oath he had better take me—he said he was confident I was the man—I heard the policeman ask Barker to search his place—he asked him as many as six times before he would search—the policeman first mentioned about searching—he told Barker to search, and Barker said he had better search—he did search, and found the piece of tin and gave it to the policeman—Barker said to the policeman, "You had better search the premises"—it was on Barker's suggestion that the premises were searched—he was not aware there was anything there—I did not hear Still say anything when the ingot was found—I had left the shop then—I saw Catharine Tees there—she was there when I went in, and while I received my money, and after I went.
Cross-examined. Q. Who first talked about searching; was it not the policeman who said, "I will search?" A. Yes—I went into the shop with some bones, and some rags in another bag—Barker went out to shoot the paper—Still followed close in behind me—he was in the shop for about two minutes; the time that Barker was emptying my paper—that was the first I saw of Still—I did not go into the yard—I stopped in the shop till Barker came out of the yard—when Still came in he had a sack with him; he had something in it—I did not see him take it out, but it was taken out of course—I was not looking after him—he was at the parlour door when Barker came in out of the yard—he did not speak to Still before Butcher came in—he did not know that Still was in the shop till he came out of the yard—Butcher was then in the shop holding me, and saying I was the man that had brought the bit of tin in—he stood talking to me till Still came to the parlour door, and, as soon as he saw him, he said, "Oh, that is the man; you can go," and I took my money of Mr. Barkers man, and went.
CATHERINE TEES . I am a sorter, and work for Mr. Barker—I recollect Still coming into the place—Barker was then in the back shed in the back-yard, emptying some paper—Still went somewhere to the back—he was in the parlour—he did not go into the yard—I did not see Barker come out of the backyard—I was at the shop at work when Barker, Still, and the policeman were there—I heard Mr. Barker ask Mr. Butcher to search the premises—when the metal was found, Still said, "I found it in the dust, Mr. Barker did not know nothing about the metal."
Cross-examined. Q. There was some man in the shop with you? A. Yes; Mr. Cook fetched his goods in—Thomas France is Mr. Barker's man—he was in there at work with me, at the screen, when Still came in—he must have seen everything that took place the same as I did—Mr. Barker paid Cook for his goods with his own hands in the shop—Butcher was there then—France was then standing with me at the screen, just in the shop—he did not pay Cook—I saw Butcher come into the shop—Still and my master did not at that time come out of the back-parlour, he came out from the paper shed—the backyard leads into the back-parlour, coming out of the paper shed—you are obliged to come through the parlour to come out of the paper shed—from where I was I could see into the back-parlour, it is right opposite, and the door was open—I saw Still go in, but I do not know what he was doing there—I could not see him when he was in the room, our goods were there—you can see when a person comes in the other side, because there is one door closes both—anyone that comes out of the shed must close the parlour door before they can get into the shop—it was never closed all the time Still was there, till my master came in from emptying the bag of paper—Butcher was there then.
Still's Defence. I am not guilty of stealing it. I had it in my possession, but I did not put it in, and I do not know who did.
Barker received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
STILL— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT.—Saturday, August 23 rd, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. GIBBONS, and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
(For the case of William Hodam, tried this day, see Surrey Cases)
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH ANN SCOTCHONER . I am the wife of Thomas Scotchoner, who keeps the Sir Robert Peel beer-house, Victoria Dock-road—on the night of 30th June, the prisoner was there with some Americans; they call them Irish Yankees—there were also some Russian sailors in the house, and among them a man named Kossoroukoff—the Russians were drinking, and the prisoner went and took their ale away, two pots at a time, after the Russians had paid for it, and gave them both to his own party to drink—I went up and told him he must not take the Russian's ale away, and I must put him out, as he always created a great disturbance in the house by doing so every time he came in; and if he did not go out of the room, I would
send for the police to take him out, as I had always been obliged to do whenever he came into the house—I once had to turn him out twice in the same evening—he told me he would go out of the house, and not make any more disturbance that night; and he left by himself—he returned in five or ten minutes, and said, "If you will allow me to go up stairs again, I will not make any more disturbance in your house to-night"—the room in which the Russians were was up stairs—he went up again, and he had not been there two or three minutes before he went and took the Russian's beer away again; and my servant fetched me from the bar not more than five minutes afterwards—I saw him drinking some beer, and the Russians told me it was their's—they spoke English; they can talk very good English, some of them—they said, "The Americaner is taking our beer away again"—I told the prisoner that I must send for a policeman and have him locked up; and as soon as he found that I had sent for the patrol, he went away by himself—his companions, the Americans, left at 11 o'clock, which was fifteen or twenty minutes afterwards—the Russians asked me to allow them to remain a few minutes; and they remained about five minutes after the Americans left—I saw no more of it.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Had both the Americans and the Russians been in and out of your house pretty nearly all the afternoon? A. No; they do not leave the docks till 6 o'clock; but all the evening they had—it was between 8 and 9, I believe, when the Russians arrived; they arrived first; and the Americans arrived at very nearly 10 o'clock, I think—they were all drinking in one room—there was no noise, because the Russians never frequent with anyone else; they always keep to their own party—I heard no angry words—I was at the bar, down stairs, and was afterwards fetched up stairs, to the first floor—I could not hear high words, unless there was a very great noise—I cannot tell you how much beer they had; my servant took it up—she is not here—they might have had test or twelve quarts; that is as nigh as I know—there were several other companies drinking in the house, and I cannot tell—the Russians sent down for their beer, but the Americans came down—they were all in one room: it is a very large room—when I was called up by my servant, I did not find the Russians at one end, and the Americans, with the prisoner, at the other, quarrelling and having high words—there were no high words on either side.
GEORGE TAYLOR . I am a boiler-maker, of Bell and Anchor-cottages, Victoria-docks—on the night of 30th June, about half-past 11 o'clock, I was in company with a friend, named George Dent, in the Victoria Dock-road, and observed a party of Russian seamen on before me—I afterwards saw five more seamen, Americans, come up, and one of them went in among the other seamen, who were on before me—I had seen the Americans in public-houses on former occasions, all five of them—the prisoner is one of them—I have seen him with his comrades—he went from his party to the party before, and then returned to his four mates—the party of Russians then set off to run, and the American party followed them—Dent and I ran on with the Americans, and while I was running I saw the prisoner running about fifteen yards before his own mates, with a knife in his hand—one of the Russian sailors was left by himself; and I saw the prisoner plunge the knife into him—I had left Dent behind, and I then turned and went back to him—the prisoner made the plunge with something in his hand which glittered; I cannot say whether it was a knife or not—I had seen the man, at whom he made the plunge, that night at the publican's
house—when I returned to my mate, the prisoner was returning to his mates, and, as he was coming past me, I saw this thing glitter in his hand, as he was putting it into the breast of his shirt, and pointed it out to Dent—I then touched the prisoner on his shoulder, and told him not to run away—he walked about five yards past me and then set off running to his mates, and I lost sight of him for that night—about two hours afterwards I went to the Bell and Anchor public-house, close by where I live, and saw the same Russian, at whom the prisoner made the plunge, lying on the table—Harris, the policeman was there.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it the noise that these people were making in the public road that attracted your attention? A. Yes—there was a bustling and talking among the Russians when the American was in among them; a noise; loud talking—I was about five or six yards from the party of Russians when I heard this—it was half-past 11 o'clock at night—the noise was not from the whole party of Russians and Americans; the party of six were behind—the prisoner's mates were ten or twelve yards from the Russians at that time—the whole body of the Americans did not overtake the Russians, but the prisoner only overtook one man.
MR. LILLEY. Q. In the first instance when the Russians were before and the Americans behind, did anybody but the prisoner run? A. Yes; the five ran, and the four Americans were left in the rear the same as my mate—he was not with them, or next to them—I cannot tell the distance he was from them, because I was running before them—when I saw the prisoner put something glittering in his shirt, he said, "I have done for that b—r."
COURT. Q. As he passed you? A. Just as he passed us; he was setting off to run away—the American party followed the Russians—the prisoner's mates were all together then, but they were either frightened to follow, or they could not run fast enough—he outstripped them, and got fifteen yards before them—he and I ran side by side and outstripped the others—I did not say that at the time I saw this thing in his hand, he was fifteen yards a-head of his mates—I said that I could not look round behind to see how far behind they were, but I said that the man was fifteen yards off us when I saw the thing in his hand—his mates might have been close behind him—he and I were running side by side—the man who the prisoner overtook, and made a plunge at, was left behind by the rest of his party—he was standing still—his face was towards me—I just merely ran to see what would come of it—to see whether there would be any fighting—I ran after the Russians with the Americans.
JURY. Q. When the Russian turned round towards the American, did he show any menace towards the American, or were there any words between them? A. No.
COURT. Q. Are you sure he did not turn his face in order to make a stand against the Americans? A. Well, I cannot say what he meant to do—I did not take notice of his gestures—I saw nothing in his appearance to lead me to form an opinion why he turned round and presented his face towards his pursuers.
GEORGE DENT . I am a boiler-smith, and lived at Bell and Anchor-cottages on 30th June—I was with Taylor that night in Victoria Dock-road, and saw a cargo of Russian sailors going down the road before us—when we got a little way down the road, five American sailors came alongside of us—the prisoner was one of them—he left his four mates and went amongst the former crew, the Russians, and a disturbance commenced amongst them; a noise, and in a short time the prisoner returned to his four mates—the
Russians stood still during the time the prisoner was among them—they were walking on; but when he went among them they immediately stopped—the Russian party were at that time, as near as I could judge, about eight yards from the American party—when the prisoner returned to his four mates, the Russians ran away immediately, and the Americans ran after them—the prisoner was with the other four, all running together, and I and Taylor ran with them—I did not observe who was first among the Americans—as the Americans ran, I saw the prisoner turn from the man who was stabbed—I was the last one who got up—the prisoner was then about three yards from me—he had a weapon of some description in his hand—I saw it glitter, and I saw him put it in his bosom—he called to his mates to stop; and, as he went up to them, he said, "I have done for the b—r"—I was not near enough to see whether the Russian was in any threatening attitude—the prisoner and the other Americans ran away in another direction from the Russians—I had not known the Russian before.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not some other man besides the prisoner rush up among the Russians just before the stab? A. I did not see any other man—I was not near enough to see—he could not have got away without my seeing it—another man might have struck him without my seeing it—Prentice was there that night; he was one of the five American sailors—he had returned before Brennan returned—he had come back to his mates before the prisoner; I am sure of that—I did not see Prentice among the Russians—I saw him coming from them—that was just before I saw the prisoner coming away—a great many sailors wear knives; almost all seafaring men do.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you see any knife or other weapon in Prentice's hand? A. No; nor in the hand of either of the other Americans—I did not see any weapon in the hand of the Russian who was stabbed—I went with the policeman in search of the prisoner—I gave information to the police, and gave a description of the prisoner.
COURT. Q. What light was there at this time that you could see by? A. Gas-light—there are not a great many lamps about there—you could not see for any great distance, not with the light there was—when the prisoner put the thing that glittered into his bosom his mates were before him—they had returned from the Russians, and were running back towards the railway crossing, in a different direction to the Russians—they began to run back before I got up to the man that was stabbed, before I saw the prisoner turn from the Russian—I know of no reason why they began to run—they were running after the Russians at first—I saw no reason for their running back again—I did not see them turn—they were about six or eight yards from the Russian that was killed when I saw them returning back again, but the other Russians were further—the rest of the Americans were about five yards before the prisoner when I saw him turn from the man that was stabbed.
MR. LILLEY. Q. You say you heard the prisoner when he turned away use the expression which you have repeated; did you hear any one else use any expression? A. No; neither of that or any other kind.
MARY ANN COURTNAY . I am twelve years of age, and live with my parents at Plaistow Marsh—on 1st July, about 1 o'clock at midday, I found a dagger in the grass, by the side of the Victoria Dock-road—I took it home to my mother—I saw her give it to a gentleman who is outside—this is it (produced.)
twenty minutes past 11, I was on duty in the Victoria Dock-road—I heard cries of "Murder" and "Police"—I saw a great crowd of persons in the Victoria Dock-road, and I saw a man running away—I could not tell who the man was at that time, or what occupation he followed—I afterwards saw a Russian sailor at the Bell and Anchor—I did not see him on the road—I ascertained his name from the chief mate; it was Stephen Kossorokoff—I called in the assistance of Dr. Banks—he temporarily bound up his wounds, and I took him to the Poplar Hospital—the deceased did not give me any description of the person who had inflicted the injury upon him—as I went to the Bell and Anchor I inquired of the persons standing round, and I received a description from the witness Taylor—in consequence of information, I apprehended the prisoner at half-past 5 next morning, on board the ship Fanny Fern, lying in Victoria Dock—I took him to the Poplar Hospital, about 8 o'clock that morning; took him to the bedside of the wounded man, and he at once identified him—he pointed to him—I could not understand his language, he being a Russian—he could speak a word or two of English—I had Prentice in custody besides the prisoner—he was also taken with the prisoner to the deceased's bedside—he made gestures, and pointed to his breast, as if Prentice had assaulted him as well, beat him, or held his arms—I distinctly asked him two or three times about the short man, and he said, "Short man no knife;" and then he moved his arms about on his breast, as much as to say he had struck him with his fists—he pointed to Prentice, and said, "Short man no knife"—Prentice is not so high in stature as the prisoner—he had pointed to the prisoner before that—as soon as ever the prisoner came into the room he pointed to him at once—I was present on 25th July, when the deceased's deposition was taken by Mr. Reeves, a gentleman from Essex—the prisoner was present at the time—he had the opportunity of cross-examination, and he did cross-examine—the deposition was taken down in writing, and signed by the Magistrate.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you search Prentice? A. yes, at the station, and the prisoner also—neither of them had a knife.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you receive that dagger? A. I did, from a brother constable; the little girl gave it up to him—I did not see her do so.
FREDERICK SPURGEON . On 30th June, I was house-surgeon at Poplar Hospital—about 1 o'clock, in the morning of 1st July, a wounded man was brought there by several policemen—I could not swear that the last witness was amongst them—the man was a Russian; his name was Stephen Kossorokoff—I examined him—I found a stab, a punctured wound—a wound made by a pointed instrument, in the left side, passing between the ribs, and entering the cavity of the chest—it might have been inflicted by such an instrument as this—I treated him and attended him until the day of his death, the 26th of July—the stab was the cause of his death—I was present when the deposition was taken by the Magistrate at the Poplar Hospital—that is in the county of Middlesex.
MR. SLEIGH to ROBERT HARRIS. Q. You know the gentleman who took the deposition; have you seen that gentleman, who you call a Magistrate, acting as a Magistrate in the county of Essex? A. Yes.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Do you know whether Mr. Reeves also acts as a Magistrate for the county of Middlesex? A. I do not—I believe he does not—I had the spot pointed out to me where the man was stabbed; that was in Essex—the evidence was taken through an interpreter—(William Milles, the interpreter, being called, did not appear, and the deposition was not read)—I took the wounded man to the hospital—I saw
Taylor at the Bell and Anchor—the Russian was there than—Taylor gave me information respecting the prisoner.
MICHAEL CASEY . I am mate of the Russian ship Odessa—I saw a man belonging to our crew at the Poplar Hospital—his name was Stephen Kossorokoff—he had no other name than Stephen—I do not know a Stephen Roun Kossorokoff.
The indictment, which alleged the name of the deceased to be Stephen Roun Kossorokoff, was directed to be amended by striking out the name Roun.
GUILTY of Manslaughter. — Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.
906. GEORGE JAMES (23) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Florant Lecocq, and stealing therein 4 yards of plush, 12 shirts, 14 coats, and 100 yards of cloth, value 55l., his property.
MR. CARTER conducted the Prosecution.
FLORANT LECOCQ . I am a tailor and draper, living in Victoria Dock-road, West Ham North Woolwich—I locked my house up on Monday morning, July 21st—I locked every door, and left the key of the parlour-door in the door—I went out at the front-door, and locked that outside—I gave my dog a good breakfast that morning—I returned on the Wednesday, at 11 o'clock—on arriving at my house I found a lot of people there, and the policeman came to me—I found that my house had been robbed—the policeman showed me a number of articles next day; they were mine, and had been left there when I went away; they were bales of cloth, coats, and so on—the value of all that was shown to me was from 50l. to 60l.
Cross-examined by MR. KEMP. Q. Was there no one living on these premises? A. No; nobody—I left them on the Monday morning, and came back on the Wednesday night; during that time I left the premises without anybody sleeping on them.
MR. CARTER. Q. Do you dwell there at other times? A. Yes—I have locked up the house so many times before.
WILLIAM WALTER SUMNER . I am a carpenter living near Plaistow Marsh—on the night of 22d July, about 11 o'clock, I went, in company with a son of the prosecutor, to the premises, to look around and see if all was right—there is a gateway by the side of the house at the back—I saw a man standing there—I saw him move his elbow, as though giving a signal, which raised my suspicion that something was wrong—I went for a policeman, leaving the prosecutor's son on the premises—I met a policeman just outside, and he went with me to the back part of the premises—I got on the fence there and saw several men about—the policeman got over the paling at the bottom—I stayed by the premises—the policeman had a struggle with a man down below, not on the premises—I went and met three dock constables, and they came back with me.
CHARLES HONEYBOURN (Policeman, K 165.) I am stationed at West Ham—on 22d July, about, a quarter to 11, last witness called me—I went with him to the front of Mr. Lecoeq's premises down, to the fence which overlooks the marsh—I looked over and saw several men standing in the marsh, engaged in taking something over the fence—Sumner was on the fence, no one else—the men were at a little distance from us—I got over the fence into the marsh where they were, and got close to them before they saw me—the prisoner was receiving this roll of cloth over the fence, in his arms—he was in the marsh. and it was being handed to him by some one standing on the fence—I struck one of the men and seized the prisoner by the neck-hand-handkerchief—the third man in the marsh struck me—I did not let go of the prisoner, but he and I fell together, and the cloth fell into the ditch; the
others ran away—the prisoner called out, "You b—cowards, knife the b—," after we had been struggling some time a man came back across the marsh and struck the prisoner on the head with something—it was dark—the prisoner was a-top and I was underneath—when I looked for the man he was gone—Sumner had in the meantime gone for assistance—after I recovered myself I got the prisoner at the bottom, and struck him with my staff on the head—I never let him go—Sumner then came up with assistance, and the prisoner was secured—we found five more rolls of cloth, fourteen coats, twelve fancy shirts, and one waistcoat piece, lying in the marsh—I showed the whole of that to Mr. Lecocq next day—I afterwards examined the premises—I found that the first floor window had been broken and raised up, and a hole cut through the shutter of the back window, and the window raised up so that persons could get in—I found the dog with his throat cut, and dead—the shop was in confusion—the son showed me the shelf where the things had been taken from—the house is in the parish of West Ham.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you in uniform at the time? A. Yes—I know nothing more of the prisoner except seeing him on the marsh—I never heard of any charge having been brought against him before—I have made inquiries to try and find something, but could not find anything against him—he was outside the premises—I did not attempt to follow the man that came up and struck him, I kept to the prisoner—I did not see that man that away—I was lying on my back, and was too much engaged with the prisoner—the prisoner was dressed as he is now.
F. LECOCQ (re-examined.) I have examined all the property produced—it is mine.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury, there being nothing further against him. — Confined Nine Months
MR. WAY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES CROSS . I am a labourer, living in Union-street, Stratford—about five minutes to 6, on the morning of 20th August, I went to work at Mr. Cook's stables at Stratford—the prisoner was there—I unlocked the stable and fed the horses—he came with me—I took off my jacket, and laid it on the corner, and went to clean one of the horses—I left the prisoner there, and afterwards went to put my jacket on and found the pocket-book gone—it contained a half-sovereign, half-a-crown, four shillings, and sixpence—I gave information to the police—the sergeant afterwards showed me my book—this is it (produced.)
PETER BIDGOOD (Police-sergeant, K 41.) On 20th August, I arrested the prisoner, about a quarter before 8—I asked him where he had been sleeping the night before, and he would not tell me—I asked him then what he had got in his pocket, and he said it was a fine thing to ask him in the street what he had got—he said he had some money in his right-hand pocket, and he took out half-a-crown and four shillings—I then asked him if he had got any more, he said "No"—I asked him if he had any pocket-book—he said "No"—I then searched him, and found the pocket-book and a purse with half-a-sovereign in it.
Prisoner's Defence. The pocket-book was picked up in the road.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS ALLEN . I keep a beer-shop in Mount-street, Bolt-fields, Woolwich—on Sunday evening, 27th July, about 6 or 7 o'clock, Abrahams and another marine came in with a sailor and two civilians—the two marines were dressed alike—they asked for a pot of ale which came to sixpence, and Abrahams gave me a half-crown—I gave him a two shilling-piece change—I put the half-crown in the till where there was some small silver, but no half-crowns—they went up stairs and sat some time, and in about ten minutes they went away—after they had gone some little time I discovered the half-crown to be bad, and put it in my pocket—I am sure it was the same half-crown—no one had been to my till in the meanwhile—there was only some small silver in my pocket—I marked the half-crown at the back of the head, and kept it till the following Friday, when I gave it to Martin, a policeman—this (produced) is it—both the men had light coloured trousers; they had tunics, not jackets, and hats, which I believe they call shakos.
Abrahams. Q. Did not you say at Woolwich that your missus first found it was a bad one? A. No; I should never have thought of taking bad money from you, having known you so long—I would have given you a pot of beer if I had known you were hard up for it.
ANN HOWLETT . I am the wife of William Howlett, an engineer—my sister keeps a tobacconist's shop in Bellwater-gate, Woolwich—I was assisting her on Sunday evening, 27th July, when the prisoners came in about 9 o'clock—Bennett asked for a cigar, which came to twopence—he gave me a half-crown, and I gave him a shilling, two sixpences, and four-pennyworth of halfpence—I put the half-crown on the shelf—a minute or two after they had gone I called my sister for some more change, and gave her the half-crown—she immediately pronounced it bad—I took it from her hand again, without losing sight of it, and ran after the prisoners as fast as I could—I caught them—when I came up to them Abrahams ran up Air-street, and Bennett ran down Glass-yard—I stuck to Bennett and stopped him again—Preston, a constable, then came up on horseback, and I gave Bennett in his charge with the half-crown—I marked it first—this is it.
Bennett. When I was searched, all the money I had was 1s. 6d., and I had no cigar on me. Witness. It was the other one who took the cigar and smoked it—you were both in company—Abrahams was off before I could say anything to him, and I gave you in charge for being in company with him, for passing a bad half-crown—I have no doubt about you being the one that gave me the half-crown.
Abrahams. Q. Did not you say in the court, at Woolwich, that you would not swear it was me? A. I said you were the person in company, to the best of my belief, and so you are the man, but you had a different dress—I will not swear to you, but I am quite certain in my own mind.
MR. ROWDEN. Q. What coloured trousers had they on? A. White trousers, tunics, and shakos.
keeps a tobacconist's shop at Bellwater-gate, Woolwich—the last witness is my sister—on Sunday evening, 27th July, about 9 o'clock, I went into my shop when she was there—she gave me a bad half-crown, and I gave it back to her instantly—I saw her run out of the house—I did not see anyone come in and ask for a cigar—I saw the two prisoners there—I came into the shop while they were there—after that I saw nothing of Abrahams till the next morning, when he was shown to me in custody, and I instantly identified him as one of the men.
Bennett. Q. Did not you say, last Friday week, at Woolwich, that I had a pair of white trousers on and a white jacket, and a hat with a big peak? A. I said a hat with a peak, and a white jacket, but that was a mistake; I said afterwards that it was faced with white.
Abrahams. Q. Did not you say, when you saw me on the Monday, that you believed it was me? A. Yes; I did not swear to you because I did not serve you—I do not swear to you now, but I feel confident in my own mind.
GEORGE ELLIOTT . I am a sail-maker of 21, High-street, Woolwich—my back-yard is in Glass-yard—on Monday morning, 28th July, I found in my back-yard this purse (produced) containing a counterfeit half-crown, and the direction of a marine—I know the half-crown by a flaw in the die of the head; this is it, or one of the same die—a person going up Glass-yard, could throw or drop a purse into my yard; the fence is only seven feet high—I took the purse, with its contents, to Mr. Lindell, the police-inspector, next day.
Bennett. Q. You did not see who threw the purse over? A. No.
THOMAS ATKINS . I am a marine, and one of the military police stationed at Woolwich—between 6 and 7 o'clock, on Sunday evening, 27th July, I was going on duty in the streets of Woolwich, and met the two prisoners—they both belong to my company—they asked me to have a glass of ale, and I had the share of a pot at the Salutation Tavern—Bennett paid for it—he took the money from his trousers—he had this purse—there is a piece of leather chipped out of it; I identify it by that—Arkinson was with me.
Bennett. I have not a pocket in my trousers. Witness. I saw you take the purse and money from your trousers—I do not know whether it was from the pocket or not—I was not asked to identify the purse on the Monday, or I should have done so.
JOHN ARKINSON . I am a gunner in the Royal Artillery, and am one of the military police—I was on duty with Atkins, and met the two prisoners—I knew them—we went to the Salutation, and had, I think, a pot of porter—Bennett paid for it—I noticed that he had this purse.
Bennett. Q. Did you see me pull it out in my hand? A. Yes; in your hand—the reason I took notice of it because was you had so much money in it for a private soldier, as I thought; I could not tell whether the money was bad or good—I was at the court on the Monday, saw the purse, and identified it as soon as I saw it—I attended both on the Monday and Friday.
ARTHUR PRESTON (Policeman, R. 96.) I am one of the mounted police—on the evening of 27th July, a little after 9, I was on duty in Woolwich, on horseback, and saw Bennett, and Ann Howlett after him calling out "Stop"—I pulled up, and he was handed into my custody in Glass-yard—Ann Howlett charged him with giving her a bad half-crown—he denied it, and she then produced a bad half-crown—not having had time to look at it, I said at first, "I do not know that this is a bad one"—Bennett said, "No, it is not bad, is it"—I took him to the station and searched him; but
another constable took 1s. 6d. in silver, from him in my presence—this purse was given me by Mr. Lindell, the inspector of police; it contained this half-crown—I also produce the half-crown given me by the first witness—next day I took Abrahams into custody, and told him the charge—he said he knew nothing about it.
Bennett. Q. When I came down Glass-yard, did I run away from you or come up to you? A. You were running away at first, and when you found you could not get out of the yard, there being no outlet, you came up and I met you—when I said, "What did you go down there for?"—you said, "I went down for my own convenience, and if you do not take me very quick, I shall have to do it where I am"—and when we wanted to go out, you would not go—you had no chance of running away.
Bennett's Defence. The military policeman states that he saw me pull the purse from my right-hand trousers pocket; I never had a pocket in my trousers; he was at the court on Monday, why did he not then identify it, instead of leaving it till the following Friday, when he had an opportunity to mark it. I am innocent; I was not in the cigar-shop that evening; I do not smoke, and so I should not want to go in; how could the woman give me 2s. 4d. when I had only 1s. 6d. when I was searched. I was going up to the barracks, and there may have been three or four hundred marines in the town at that time, going to the barracks, and it is very hard for a woman to pick one out of that number; I do not know her shop, I was never in it; if I had gone in I should have had the cigar and the change on me. Mr. Allen wan at the court on the Monday, and knew that two marines were locked up for passing bad money, and he never said anything about it.
Abrahams' Defence. Do you think if I knew the half-crown was bad I should go into the house of a man who knew me so well as Mr. Allen did? I should go into a strange house. I never passed a bad half-crown at any time.
Confined Eighteen Months each.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCES HODGES . I am a widow, and keep the Railway public-house, Hamilton-street, Deptford—on Tuesday, 29th July, at half-past 9 in the evening, the prisoner came in, asked for a glass of ale, and put down half-a-crown—I gave him 2s. 3 1/2 d. change—I put the half-crown in the till—I had other silver there, shillings and sixpences I think—I put the half-crown in the till—about a minute afterwards I had occasion to go to the till, and saw the half-crown there—I took it out directly and discovered it was bad—I then sent the pot-boy to find the prisoner—I wrapped the half-crown in paper and put it in my pocket—on the following Friday, I gave it to the constable, 65 R—I had not marked it—this is it (produced.)
Cross-examined by MR. DICKIE. Q. How did you try it when you first took it? A. Put it between my teeth—I could not grit it, so I put it in the till—I thought it was good—I next saw the prisoner before the Magistrate, on the following Friday—I was quite satisfied then that he was the man—I don't know that I have not seen him before—I am quite sure he is
the man; the policeman told me he was in custody—I sent the boy to the policeman on duty, with a description of the man—they sent to me and said they had got a man answering the description that I had given, and I went to identify him—I knew I was going up to see the man who had passed a bad half crown at my house.
WILLIAM POULTER . I keep the British Queen beer-shop, in Lucas-street, Deptford—I know Hamilton-street, Deptford; it is about ten minutes walk from my house—on Tuesday, 29th July, about 10 o'clock, the prisoner came in and asked for a glass of ale; I gave it him, and he gave me a bad half-crown—I said, "This is a duffer, how many more have you got"—he did not say anything, but gave me a good one—I asked him where he got the bad one from, and he told me that he had change for half-a-sovereign at the dockyard—I gave him in charge; a friend of mine came out of the parlour and said, "That is the man who was passing bad money on Saturday night, at Mrs. Pierson's"—this is the half-crown (produced)—it is marked near the date.
THOMAS PETHERS (Policeman, R 45). On Tuesday night, 29th July, about half-past 10, I was called into Mr. Poulter's beer-shop, and the prisoner given into my charge, with this half-crown. Mrs. Hodges afterwards gave me another—I asked the prisoner how he came by it, and he said he did not know where he got it—I found nothing on him.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. GENT conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES MARGETSON (Policeman, R 122). On Saturday, 19th July, I was in Stratford, and saw the prisoner there, about half-past 10 at night, with this pair of boots (produced) under his arm; not in paper—he was carrying them openly—I stopped him, and asked him where he had brought them from, and he said he had purchased them of a man at Woolwich for 7s. 6d.—I asked him the street, and the shop, and who the man was—he said, "Of a man in the Woolwich Arsenal; he had four pair of new boots and one pair of old boots, standing in the street, and I bought this pair out of them"—I asked him if he bought them for his own wear—he said, "Yes"—I asked him if they would fit him; he said they would—he had a pair of boots on, but they were worn out—he said he preferred carrying them—I took him to the station, and asked him to sit down and put on the boots—he sat down and tried to put them on—he could not do so, and he said that his feet were swelled—they were very much too short for him—he tried again, but he could not get them on—he said he did not know who the man was; I did not go to look for him.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I pass you in Greenwich? A. Yes; you were coming from Greenwich—it was in Mill-lane were you lived—I asked you were the laces were, and you said they were inside; they were not there.
GEORGE HENRY BEAVER . I am a boot and shoemaker, at 12, Greenwich-market—these boots are my property—on Saturday, 19th July, they were on my stand in the Market-place—I keep a stall as well as a shop—they were safe on the Saturday afternoon—I next saw them on the Monday morning following, at the police-station—I had not missed them; they are my own manufacture; my name is impressed—I can say positively they were not sold—my wife and brother keep the stall; but they had not sold
them—I sold all that were sold on the Saturday—I receive the money—the price of the boots was 11s.; we sometimes take a 6d. off—I was at home all day—my wife and brother would not sell a pair of boots of this kind without consulting me—I did not receive 11s. for any boots of this sort—these boots were only made on the day before, and I saw my brother clean the boots up, and put them where they were taken from—I could see what was going on while I was outside—if any boots were sold the money would be brought to me.
Prisoner's Defence. Q. I bought them of a man at Woolwich, outside the Arsenal; he had a cloth laid down with some boots upon it; they corresponded with the length of my old ones.
PLEADED GUILTY.*†— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
JOHN SHENTON . I am a private in the Woolwich division of Royal Marines—on Thursday, 3d July, I was with the prisoner in the Wheatsheaf—I asked the landlady to lend me 5s. on my watch—she refused—the prisoner asked me to hand him over the watch, and said that he could get the 5s. of the landlady; that he would go in the bar and get it—he had the watch of me, made away with it, and never returned it to me, and I never got the 5s.—I next saw him on Monday, the 7th, and asked him what he had done with my watch—he refused to tell me anything about it, and I gave him in custody—I have not seen the watch since.
Prisoner. Q. Did I go out directly? A. Directly.
CLARA HOPPER . I live with my uncle, who keeps the Wheatsheaf—the prisoner and prosecutor were there on 3d July—the prosecutor asked the landlady for 5s. on his watch—the prisoner afterwards asked Shenton to give him the watch, and said that he would get the 5s. from the landlady upon it—Shenton gave him the watch, and he came and asked for 5s. on it, but I refused—I saw the watch in his possession, and he went away with it.
COURT. Q. Did he go into the bar and ask for it? A. Yes—he asked for it several times; he pressed for it.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see the watch given into my hand? A. Yes—you asked me a great number of times, and I refused each time—you went along the passage and went out—the prosecutor asked me where you were gone, and he followed you, and came back and said he could not find you.
GUILTY .— Confined Four Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY> to the second Count. — Ten Years' Penal Servitude. There were two other indictments against the prisoner for forgery.
Before Mr. Justice Williams.
MR. OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. GIFFARD and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BARROW . I am a currier and leather-seller, in partnership with John Barrow, at the Grange, Spa-road, Bermondsey, in the name of Barrow and Son—I know Williams—he was a leather factor before his bankruptcy, carrying on business in New Weston-street, Bermondsey—he has been in business three years and a half—we materially assisted him when he commenced—we introduced him to a banker, and assisted him by sending him all the goods we could, to sell for us—our firm received this circular (produced) from Williams when he commenced business—I cannot swear that I received it from his hands, but it was delivered at our counting house—I have had conversations with him upon the terms of it.
MR. MONTAGUE CHAMBERS , Q.C. Q. Did you show him that circular, or talk to him on that subject, or did you ever see it in his hands? A. I cannot say that I ever saw this one in his hands, but I saw a lot it his counting-house directed to other people—we talked to him about the terms of business, but not with reference to this special piece of paper—I was before the Magistrate—this piece of paper was in Court—I cannot swear that it was produced.
COURT. Q. Before you did business with him, did your firm receive a circular signed in this way? A. We did; and the business was always done upon those terms—(MR. CHAMBERS objected to the reception of the document, but THE COURT admitted it; it was dated from New Weston-street, Bermondsey, 20th October, 1858, and stated that Williams had commenced business as a hide and leather factor, and that his terms were 2 per cent. commission for purchasing raw hides, with the usual charge for salting; 2 1/2 per cent., two months, for selling rough goods; and 3 per cent., three months, for dressed goods; in each case free of warehouse charges)—we did business, from time to time, with Williams, on the terms mentioned in that circular; but there was a slight deviation when the principle of charging cartage on goods was introduced—that was, t think, about twelve months after that date—with that exception, we did business on the terms mentioned in the circular—our firm had various transactions with Williams until his bankruptcy, at the end of February, this year—I was trade assignee under the bankruptcy—I know Balch—he has been clerk to Williams about twenty
months—when we consigned goods to Williams for sale, we invariably signed a consignment note—on 23d August, 1861, we consigned to Williams the goods mentioned in this consignment note (produced.)
MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Is that your writing? A. Yes—we have a book specially for these things—I know that has reached Williams's hands, because I can prove his signature on the counterpart.
MR. POLAND. Q. Do you produce it from among the bankrupt's papers? A. Yes—(Read: "Grange-road, Bermondsey, 1861; consigned to Mr. Charles Williams, 40 English butts, 7 cwt. 23 lbs., at 18d.; English bellies, at 8d., 10 cwt. 1 qr. 11 lbs.; ditto, at 9d.; B A, 10 cwt. 1 qr. 10 lbs., at 8d.; John Barrow and Son")—the price mentioned here is the minimum price at which the goods were to be sold—the B. A. bellies are Buenos Ayres' bellies, where the hides come from—they were sent, and we afterwards received an account of the sale of them—this (produced) is the account sale; it is dated 2d October—the details of the transaction are in Balch's writing—there was a postscript at the bottom, of which the word "Gentlemen" is left, which is in Williams's writing—the rest is torn off—it is quite a formal postscript; "Gentlemen, I have the pleasure to hand you the account, &c.;" (Read: "Sold on account of Messrs. J. Barrow & Sons, by Charles Williams, B. A. bellies, 10 cwt. 1 qr. 5 lbs., at 7 1/2 d.; English ditto, 5 cwt. 27 lbs, at 8 1/2 d.; ditto, 9 cwt, 1 qr., at 7 3/4 d.; total 90l. 5s. 6d. Commission, 2l. 5s. 2d.; discount, 15s.; charges, 4s.; total, 87l. 1s. 4d.")—I have examined Williams's books especially with reference to this transaction—this (produced) is called the leather weight-book—I find an entry here, on 23d of August, which is the date of the consignment note; but I may mention they make the weight more than we do on our note, 2 lbs. in one instance and 1 lb. in another—on folio 217 of the consignment book, the particulars are given; 40 English butts, 7 cwt. 23 lbs., average 20 lbs. at 18d.; English bellies, at 9d.; English bellies, at 8d.; and 10 cwt. 1qr. 10 lbs., at 8d.—on the other side it gives the parties who bought them, and the date of each sale—this, in fact, is a ledger stock-book—we should not know, in the ordinary course of things, to whom the goods were sold—I should not know the names from the account sales—the date mentioned in this book is 25th September—the bellies which were consigned as 5 cwt. 1 qr. 2 lbs., at 9d., were sold to Thomas Somers and Co., and the parcel of 10 cwt. 1 qr. 11 lbs. were sold to Mr. Knights, and to Thomas Somers and Co., at 8 1/2 d., on 25th September—the parcel, 10 cwt. 1 qr. 10 lbs., was sold on 11th September; 5 cwt. 1 qr. 20 lbs. to Mr. Harris, and on 27th September 4 cwt. 3 qr. 13 lbs. to Thomas Somers and Co.. at 8 1/2 d.—in this Sales Journal (produced) of 11th September, on the debit side is an entry of goods sold to Thomas Somers and Co., of Cheltenham—on 25th September, and on 11th September, "L. Harris, B. A. bellies, 5cwt. 1qr. 20lbs. at 8d., 20l. 5s. 4d., at two months"—that on 11th September is in the writing of William Nettleton, the date, both the folios, the name of the debtor, the description, the price per pound, the amount, and the total amount, continuing it over to the next side—on the other side is, "Commission 9s. 6d., charges 1l. 5s. 4d."—the commission, figures, discount, net proceeds, ledger folio, and date of account sale, are in Balch's writing—the terms, and the name of the consignor, are in Nettleton's writing—"Discount 3s. 2d., net proceeds 18l. 7s. 4d., terms three months; Creditors, Barrow and Son; Ledger folio, 85" I cannot find by any of the books how this claim, "Charges, 1l. 5s. 4d." is arrived at, in any one instance, and I have examined the books with that object—these entries on 25th September, "Thomas Somers and Co., B. A.
bellies, 4 cwt. 3 qrs. 13 lbs. at 8 1/2 d., 19l. 6s. English bellies, 5 cwt. 0 qr. 27 lbs. at 8 1/2 d., 13l. 15s. 10d." are in Nettleton's writing; the opposite side is, "Commission, 1l. 15s. 8d., charges, 5l. 14s., and discount, 11s. 10d." in Balch's figures, "net proceeds, 68l. 14s., are two months, ledger folio, 85—the corresponding items of that account are in Balch's writing as in the last, and the corresponding items of Nettleton's are as in the last—if a proper return for the goods sold had been made, the difference would have been 6l. 19s. 6d. less 4s. for cartage—that is the difference between the price the things actually sold for and the price accounted for to us, and the weight also—on December 19th, I sent the goods mentioned in this consignment note (produced) to Williams, with the note—I found it among the bankrupts papers—(Read: "Consigned to Mr. C. Williams, 40 N. S. W. bwtts, 9 P., 9 cwt. 3 qrs. 23 lbs, average weight 28 lbs. at 17d. to 18d. per pound," and on the same consignment note 20 English—N. S. W. is New South Wales—on 12th February we received the account sale—here is "20 returned, February 8th"—we wanted to have them all back, we did not know till that date that they had been sold—the twenty returned were the New South Wales butts—this is the account sale for the remaining twenty—twenty had been returned on 8th February—they had sold some twice previously, and the sale was suppressed—this account sale (produced) is in Balch's writing, "Sold on account of Messrs. Barrow and Son, by Charles Williams, 20 N. S. W. butts, 4 cwt. 3 qrs. 21 lbs. at 16 1/2 d., 38l. 0s. 4d., commission, 19s., discount, 6s. 4d. charge 2s. Gentlemen, I have pleasure in rendering account sales as above, and have duly placed proceeds to the credit of your account, H. D. BALCH"—in the leather weight book at folio 423, they have made the weight of the New South Wales, 9 cwt 3 qrs. 25 lbs., which is two pounds over our weight—in the consignment book, folio 235, December 13th, here is "40 New South Wales butts, at 17d. to 18d.," that tallies with the other—in the Sales Journal of 1st February, here is "J. Gidden and Son, 10 N. S. W. butts, 2 cwt. 1 qrs. 27 lbs. at 18d., 20l. 18s. 6d."—on the other side is "Commission, 9s. 6d., charges, 1l. 11s. 8d., discount, 3s. 2d., net proceeds 18l. 702d., Barrow and Son, Grange, February 12th"—the columns, commission and discount, the net proceeds, ledger folio, and date, and account sale as before, are in Balch's writing, and the rest in Nettleton's—on February 4th, here is "T. H. Cross, 10 N. S. W. butts, 10 cwt. 1 qr. 26 lbs., at 18 1/2 d., 21l. 8s. 7d. Commission, 9s. 6d., charges, 2l. 10s. 1d., discount, 3s. 2d., net proceeds, 18l. 0s. 10d., folio 85, February 12, J. Barrow and Son, Grange"—the commission and discount is in Balch's writing, and the net proceeds, and account sale—the difference upon that transaction is 4l. 8s. 9d. less 2s., making 4l. 6s. 9d.—Samuel Barrow does not belong to our firm at all—in the consignment book, on May 4th, 1861, here is "G. Gidden and Son, 25 shoe splits, 1 cwt. 3 qrs. at 7d., 5l. 14s. 4d., at two months;" on the other side is, "Commission, 2s. 6d., charges, 16s. 4d., net proceeds, 4l. 14s. 8d. Samuel Barrow, Grange, date of account sale, August 28"—the sales, commission charges, discount, net proceeds, ledger folio, and date of account sale, are in Balch's writing as before—on July 29th, here is, "J. Smerdon, 10 cow splits, 2 qrs. 25 lbs., at 8d., 2l. 14s. Commission, 1s., charges, 13s. 6d., net proceeds, 1l. 19s. 2d."—the difference there is 13s. 6d.—on November 2d, here is, "G. Gidden and Son, 65, E. I. kips, 3 cwt. 3 qrs. 25 lbs., at 9d., 16l. 13s. 9d., two months. Commission, 7s. 10d., charges, 1l. 0s. 3d., discount, 3s. 11d., net proceeds, 15l. 1s. 9d., Samuel Barrow, Grange-road, ledger folio, 87"—it is the same with regard to the other column: Balch and Nettleton—on 19th August, here is, "Charles Eaton and Son, 10 dozen grained calf, at 58s., 29l.,
three months. Commission, 16s. 9d., charges, 1l. 10s., discount, 6s. 10d., net proceeds, 26l. 6s. 8d., Morrell and Halfpenny, Grange, folio 197"—on August 23d, hero is, "Charles Eaton and Son, 20 dozen grained calf; at 57s., 57l., three months. Commission, 1l. 13s., charges, 2l., net proceeds. 52l. 13s. 3d., Morrel and Co., Grange, September 11"—there is 3l. 10s. difference on that transaction—at folio 64, here is, "October 14th, 1861, Alexander Macieod, junr., 24 dozen Memel calf, at 60s., 72l., there months. Commission, 1l. 19s. 6d., charges, 5l. 19s. 10d., net proceeds, 63l. 4s. 2d., Morrel and Co., Grange, January 15th"—the writing is the same as before, and the amount of difference is, altogether, 9l. 9s. 10d.—the three transactions amount to about 130l.—at folio 71, here is, "19th February, F. Lewis, Australian bend, 5 cwt. 2 qrs. 5 lbs., 29l. 0s. 7d. Australian bend, 6 cwt. 4 qrs. 2 lbs., at two months"—on the other side is, "Commission, 17s. 3d., charges, 13s. 10d., discount, 8s. 9d., net proceeds, &c., Reuben Barrow—the writing is the same as before.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS, Q.C. Q. A very important question was asked you, which you answered incidentally, as to whether you knew Mr. Williams before he entered into business on his own account? A. We did two years previously—our firm then consisted of my father, myself, and my brother Samuel—when I became acquainted with Williams, he was in the employ of Page and Welch, leather factors, of Bishopsgate-street, as one of their leather warehousemen—I know Mr. Page—he is in Court—my brother Samuel ceased to be a member of the firm on January 1st, 1860—as a leather salesman, or agent, Page had sold leather to our firm—I cannot say whether we owed Page and Welch a debt of 4,000l.—I should certainly say it was 3,000l.—it exceeded 3,000l. by some hundreds, but at this distance of time it is impossible to fix it to a few hundreds—it was for leather he had sold for us, and for raw goods as well—I should think the leather was about 1,500l., and the raw goods about 2,000l.—of course I am not fixed to a hundred or two—we paid every farthing of it—in the panic of 1857 we had an extension of time, and at that time we owed Messrs. Page and Welch only 400l.—the debt afterwards increased to 3,500l. when Mr. Williams was with them, and then we reduced it—Mr. Williams left in 1857—our debt at that time was, I should think, much less than 3,500l., but it is impossible for me to swear it without reference to books, if I had my books here, I could give you the exact figures—Page and Welch insisted on our diminishing that debt—that was, I should think after Williams left—they never mentioned his name to us at all, nor do I think he complained to us that he had been spoken to, for trusting us to so large an amount—when he started in business, we introduced him to the London and Westminster Bank, where we kept our account—before he went into business, we told him most distinctly that we would support him—he went down to Leeds after he left, Page and Welch, and we corresponded as friends, and promised him our support—I never used to go down and see him—he set up in business in 1858—I do not recollect any service he did us before he set up in business—he did not give us letters of introduction to houses in Glasgow and elsewhere—I will swear he did not introduce us to firms there—he was with the firm of Richard Mitchell, large tanners, near Leeds—he never introduced us to them, and we never had a transaction with them—we had not introductions to a firm at Glasgow to my knowledge—I do not know whether my father is here—he is my partner—he did not refuse to prosecute—I consider him as a prosecutor—I have never been to Glasgow—my father went there, and we had a transaction with John Slater, and lost money—I
was at Margate at the time—it was in August, 1858 and Williams set up in October—my father was at Glasgow two or three days—he went to Leeds, and from Leeds to Glasgow—Williams was very intimate with my family—he came and stopped at my father's house before he set up in business—he and his family were at our house three or four months, and then they started when they had got a house and furnished it—I believe my father is not here—he assists me in managing the business, and is a very active man—he appeared at the police-court—he has never given evidence—Williams came up to town with the express intention of starting in business, and my father assisted him in finding a place, and was very active—long before this circular was sent, Williams and I had conversations about his doing business for us—it was our custom to draw bills on him before the goods were actually sold, but I cannot tell whether that was mooted before the circular was sent—I never proposed to him that he should accept accommodation-bills for us, nor did my father—my father never accepted bills, and never drew them—I drew the bills—the arrangement in the trade is, that we can draw for two-thirds of the value of the goods—that arrangement was never put in writing—it was no privilege at all—it is the custom of the trade—if we drew a bill at two months, and the goods were not sold for six months, we always gave him the money to meet his bill, to recoup himself—I am aware that he started in business with no capital; in fact, our object in drawing on him, was to give him the benefit of our money in effecting sales—we were to draw, and he was to accept, before the goods were sold—there is no such thing as a maximum price.
Q. In one of these there is "At 7d. or 8d.;" that is maximum and minimum, is it not? A. The instance you refer to is the N. S. W.; it is 17d. or 18d.—that was specific on one amount—it is 17d. to 18d.—if he returned us 17d., that would not do—if he only got 17d., we should be satisfied—if he returned us 17d., but not if he got more—if the customer turned out bad, he was to lose the money, so that he had to look out to see that it was a sound customer—I perfectly remember, in September, 1859, a transaction of a number of Petersburg kips, at 21d. a pound—I have not been brushing up my memory, I recollect that transaction thoroughly—I did not tell him to take them, and render account sales, so as to secure the transaction; the goods were sold out and out to him, and an invoice sent with them—there have been no proceedings whatever in the Bankruptey Court—what makes me recollect toe transaction is, that they were the only goods we ever tanned, and it was our largest parcel—it was an experiment—we do not tan generally such light goods—Mr. Williams had a sample, and sold some, he had the prospect of selling them all, and he bought the parcel out and out—I know it was 17th September, because I was going to Margate the same day; it was Saturday—it was as long ago as 1859—we did not require him to return account sales of those Petersburgs before he sold them—I will swear that—I do not know when the whole of the goods were sold to him, and I never had any interest to know—I do not know that they were eighteen months before they were sold; I never inquired—I am quite up in this transaction; it was an out and out purchase of the goods—the whole were sold to him as an experiment; but he had some first—he had the first lot, it might be two or three weeks prior to the sale; it was in summer time—we first sent about ten dozen to him as a sample to Messrs. Brooksbank—he succeeded in selling them, and we never consigned him any more—he sold them, and then he bought the whole bulk, and the whole were invoiced to
him—he had very nearly 2,000—I have come into possession of all his papers—I have not looked for any paper in which these Petersburgs were invoiced to him—I have not heard before of the statement he has made that that transaction was as a factor—I did not recollect this suddenly—I, of course, knew what you meant when you referred to the transaction—I cannot say what the amount of his sale was, without looking at his ledger, or my own books; they are in Court—I have no doubt that it was somewhere about 557l.—it was a large transaction—we allowed him three months' credit—it was paid by bills—I have not got my bill-book here—he was made a bankrupt at the end of February this year—I was chosen trade assignee at the end of March—the other assignee was Samuel Barclay, a leather-dresser—the charge at the police-court was made in May, two months after his bankruptcy—Mr. Barclay consented to my making the charge—I know that Mr. Barclay is dead—I swear that he did not refuse to prosecute—he was ill when he was chosen assignee—he was taken to a sick bed and died, and I never came in contact with him, and never consulted him—I went before a Magistrate to get a warrant against Williams on Saturday night; and, I believe, instructions were given that he was not to be apprehended till Sunday—I heard that he was apprehended on Saturday evening—he was taken before the Magistrate on Monday morning—he was not living with his wife and children; he was up at Islington, and his wife was living with her friends—that was after he had become bankrupt, and I and the other assignee had taken possession of his property—I appeared there on Monday—the charge was dismissed three weeks afterwards—I went before the Magistrate three times—Mr. Knights was called as one of my witnesses—he was a customer of Williams—part of the consignment of 23d August is not sold to William Knights; it is to Leonard Harriss; nor is it so in the consignment book.
COURT. Q. What are the names of the purchasers? A. Thomas Somers & Co. had 9 cwt., and W. R. Knights had 1 cwt. on 4th September.
MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Is that the Mr. Knights who was examined as a witness for you before the Police-Magistrate? A. Yes—we have not taken his case at all to-day—we have not subpoenaed him here to-day, and do not want him—I believe he is an absconding bankrupt—I heard him examined before the Magistrate—there is risk in a factor trusting a customer, but not very great risk—it depends upon how a man conducts his business—dificulties in the leather-trade arose in 1860—there was no more risk in trusting people after the leather panic than before—a great many people became bankrupt then—we did not suspend, nor was there any danger of it—we got an extension of time in 1857, and paid everybody in full—I was excessively intimate with Williams's family—he had a daughter—I never made a proposal of marriage to her—I will swear that she did not refuse me, or treat me with coldness and dismiss me; what an absurdity!—I was not paying attentions to her, nor did Williams tell me to cease doing so—she is now married—my intimacy with the Williams's ceased at the time of the bankruptcy—Williams has not told me that he did not like the attentions I was paying to his daughter; she was married two years before—Williams has never been examined before the Commissioners in Bankruptcy—we caused him to be taken in custody in May—there was an adjournment to prepare accounts—I had looked through the accounts, but I had good advice; Messrs. Paul and Turner assisted me—I caused Williams to be taken in custody a week or two before the adjournment day—Mr. Paul is here—the purchasers whose names I have given are all here; Thomas Simeon, James Gidden, Alexander Macleod, Eaton, Harriss, and Smerdon—they were not all before the Magistrate
—the only witness we had before the Magistrate was Knights, I believe—none of them went before the Grand Jury—the only persons who did so were James and Samuel Barrow—my brother Samuel belongs to the other firm.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. In 1858, I understand there was a slight deviation in the terms? A. Yes; we were to pay cartage—that was perhaps twelve months afterwards—that was never reduced into writing, but it was a matter privately understood between us and Williams—although there was a bankruptcy, I took no opportunities of examining Balch or Williams, for special reasons—we did not learn that we could not make out any indictable offence against Williams, unless we included Balch—one party advised one course, and one another—we had two or three courses submitted to us—we were told that we should not have so good a chance of convicting Williams unless we included Balch in the indictment—I was told that it would help me to introduce Balch into it; but I should most distinctly have done so without that—I swear that—I believe there is no separate indictment against Williams—I may take my solicitors' statement, and say that there is not.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. How soon after you became assignee did you inspect the books? A. Immediately; and I had not been at them an hour, before I discovered a fraud; and I informed the solicitor to the bankruptcy, Mr. Linklater, and afterwards applied to my present solicitor, Mr. Humphreys, and in his company took the advice of Counsel, and acted by his advice—the variation in the terms was, that we were to pay cartage, the same as others—the London factors charged about 4s. a ton, which we consented to, and paid on the subsequent account sales—when I called it private, it may have been mentioned in conversation between us; he may have said, "I find that Poppleton and Beer are paying those charges," and we consented—Mr. Barclay was ill when he was appointed, and never acted in the matter; he did not even appear in Court to sign the paper; he died about six weeks afterwards—he never to my knowledge expressed any disapproval of the course I was pursuing; nor did I ever hear that suggested till to-day—they have not appointed another yet—Williams knew that we had the Petersburg kips—we sent him down a sample, with which he was so pleased that he bought the whole lot—it was a purchase out and out—the amount was paid by acceptances, which were drawn and paid on their becoming due—Miss Williams has been married two years, and our firm continued to deal with Williams down to the date of his bankruptcy—I never heard till to-day any suggestion of their discontinuing to deal with us on account of the coldness of the lady—my father was at the police-court—there is no truth in the suggestion that he disapproved of this prosecution; he decidedly pays part of the expense of it, and not only he, but the other creditors—I am not aware of his having been introduced at Leeds or Glasgow by Williams, or of any arrangement by which my father was to draw bills, which the prisoner was to accept for my father's accommodation: it is impossible—every penny of our debt to Page and Welch was paid years ago—we stopped payment in 1857; we procured an extension of time, as we could not realize stock during the panic—we prayed for four, eight, twelve, and eighteen months—we did not pay interest; we were not asked—I do not know where Mr. Knights is now—he was bankrupt, and his examination was adjourned sine die—I did not interfere with the execution of the warrant, or give instructions one way or other—our goods shrink according to the weather, and there is sometimes a difference in the weight—they absorb moisture very readily, and, therefore, they afterwards recover their weight again.
SAMUEL BARROW . I am a leather merchant of Grange-road, Bermondsey—I know the defendants—I was in the habit of sending goods to Williams to be sold by him as factor for me, on a del credere commission—it was my practice to fix a minimum at which to sell—on 28th August, 1861, I received this account sale (produced)—it comprehends only 35 of the consignment—"167, Grange-road, Bermondsey, Feb. 11, 1861. Consigned to Mr. C. Williams 13 Sherval hides, 2 cwt. 13 lbs. at 12 1/2 d., 49 pig skins at 7d., and 16 at 9d., 50 splits at 7d. Samuel Barrow"—" Sold, on account of Mr. C. Williams, 35 cow splits, at 6d, 6l. 18s. 6d., commission and discount 4s. 8d., leaving a balance of 6l. 13s. 10d."—they professes to be sold at 6d.—he gave me no reason why he sold below my minimum, but I accepted the transaction, believing that was all that he sold them for—I served this account (produced) on 6th Nov.—it is for 65 E. I. kips, professing to be sold at 8 1/2 d.—the charge on the four transactions is 6s.—I only received credit for the cow splits at the rate of 6d. and for the E. I. kips at the rate of 8 1/2 d.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. How long have you had transactions with Mr. Williams? A. About two years, but not many; I should think about forty or fifty transactions—they were rather large at one time—it depends upon the state of the trade whether the factor sells them at the minimum or below it—if he does his best of course we are satisfied—if on a del credere commission, he sells a good deal above the minimum, that is so much to his advantage, because the commission comes to so much more, and it leads to further consignments—I have never been a factor—factors do not often deal themselves, but it is allowed—like a broker, he may deal on his own account.
Cross-examined by MR. ROBINSON. Q. Were you formerly in partnership with James Barrow? A. Yes—I left in Jan. 1860 to avoid a disagreement, not in consequence of one, there was some difference of opinion.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. If a factor purchased would that be upon an expand contract? A. Yes—it would not be at all regular for him to conceal the fact that he was the purchaser.
JAMES MORRELL . I am in partnership with Mr. Halfpenny, a leather dealer in Grange-road, Bermondsey—we have had a few transactions with Williams, not many—in May last we consigned to him the goods mentioned in this consignment note, "54 dozen black-grained calf at 60s."—that would be the price per dozen at which they would be sold—I afterwards received two account sales, "30 dozen on 11th Sept at 55s., and 24 dozen at 55s. in Jan. 1862"—those two sales completed the lot consigned on 21st May.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. How long have you dealt with Mr. Williams? A. About two years or more—not I think ever since he has been in business—we have not done a great deal with him, we may have had half a dozen transactions—I have had very little transactions with either of the Barrows, but we know them all—I have known the old gentleman for years—I knew him before he was in business.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. However many the transactions were, were they all of the same character with Williams? A. No—we have sent him butts with different things in—they were consigned to him as a factor, and we named a minimum—he returned us account sales professing to show the price at which he sold, not our price.
REUBEN VINGENT BARROW . I am a clerk in the service of Barrow and Song, of Bermondsey—in June, 1861, I returned from Australia and brought with me certain leather goods, which, on 4th Oct. I consigned to Williams
for sale—I have got the consignment note in my hand—I afterwards saw Williams and spoke to him on the subject of the sale—I saw him two or three times—he told me nothing particular about them—at one time he offered a price to which I objected—I was dealing with him as a factor—I afterwards saw him again and asked for the return of the goods—he said, "They are under offer, I cannot part with them now "—he said that he was going to Bristol, and as the goods were under offer, he must leave then to Mr. Balch to effect a sale during his absence, and in the event of his not selling I was to be apprized of it, and have the goods returned to me—I called on him after his return to town; and, on seeing me, he said to Balch, "Have Mr. Barrow's goods been sold during my absence?"—Balch said, "Oh, by the bye, yea, they are"—I said to Balch, "At what price where they sold?"—he said, 11d. and 9 1/2 d.—I said, "There should not have been two prices if 11d. was the higher price"—Balch said, "I could not have sold them at the price"—on 19th Feb. I received an account sale which gives the selling price 11d. and 9 1/2 d.—I afterwards went back to Balch, because I saw by the first account sale that there was an error in the addition—this account (produced) was then sent to me afterwards as a substitute.
Cross-examined by SERGEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Was there any correspondence between you and Williams on this transaction? A. No—I have had letters since his bankruptcy in relation to the proceeds, but not to the item; this is the letter—(Read,"Feb. 22, 1862. To Mr. R. B. Barrow. Dear Sir, I have just written to Mr. F. Lewis, of Duster-road, Northampton, requesting him to pay you, for the Australian bend, 34l. 11s. 5d. which I expect be will do in the early part of this week. Your's &c. Charles Williams")—that is in relation to this transaction—I suppose they are the purchases—neither Balch or Williams referred to the books—I was not examined before the Magistrate.
GEORGE GIDDEN . I am a leather dealer of French-street, Southampton—I know Williams—I was a customer of his—on 4th May, I purchased 25 splits of him at 7d. and received this invoice (produced)—the weight was 1 3/4 cwt. and the amount 5l. 14s. 4d.—on 1st Jan. 1862, I purchased 10 South Wales butts of Williams, 2 cwt I qr. 27 lbs. at 18d.—this is the invoice (produced)—the amount carried out is 20l. 18s. 6d.—I have paid for them, and for the others as well
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. I observe at the bottom of the invoice of May 4th, "I have the pleasure of handing invoice as above, and inclose my draft for the amount, 55l. 2s. 3d. which please accept and return" did you give an acceptance? A. Certainly, at 3 months, and paid it when it was due
MR. POLAND. Q. Just look at that invoice of 2d Nov. 1861, did you purchase 65 E. I. kips of Williams? A. Yes, 3cwt 3qrs. 25lbs. at 9d., that is, 16l. 13s. 9d. which I paid.
MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Had you dealt with the Messrs. Barrow before you had these transactions with Williams? A. I believe I had—I cannot swear to it—Barrow's would not credit me for much, but they have not refused to give me credit to my knowledge—they did not give me credit to so large amount as Williams would—they might give me credit from 50l. to 100l.—I did not go to Williams first because Mr. Barrow would not give me credit—I went to Williams first with ready money and paid him, and them he offered me credit—I have never ceased to deal with Messrs. Barrow—they have given me credit from 180l, to 200l. I cannot say positively—there are two Mr. Barrow's—if you mean Barrow and Son, I say 50l. or 60l.—they
were three months credit transactions with Williams—I always met my bills at the end of three months—we went from one to the other when we could get suited best—I knew that Williams was a factor, and that Barrow and Sons were dealers—I cannot say whether they were factors, but I bought of them as dealers—I knew that Williams was Barrow's factor—I knew the goods to be Barrow's when I saw them, and we did not get them cheaper then we should from Barrow's; but the goods laid at Williams's and not at Barrow's; and they would not have given me so much credit as Williams did—we have had perhaps 2,000l. worth of transactions with Williams—I generally went to his place—I did not write for the goods, I went and selected them—I am a carrier.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Was that the only transaction you had with him? A. One besides.
SPENCER EATON . I was a member of the firm of Eaton and Son, of Birmingham—I have had transactions with Williams—on 19th August, I purchased of him ten dozen black grained calf skins, at 58s. per dozen, which came to 29l.—I received the invoice; and there was another invoice after that with some allowance off of it—on 23d August, among other things, I purchased twenty dozen of the same at 57s., which, carried out, makes 57l.—this the invoice—I paid for those goods as well as for the others.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Was this invoice paid by a Bill of Exchange? A. Yes; at three months, I believe—I did not renew the bill, it was dishonoured—I paid a few days afterwards—the goods were not fairly represented to me; and when I came to London I complained about the price, and told Williams I should do no more business with him unless he altered it—I do not know whether he altered it on the invoice, but he made an allowance.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did you pay for them at the rate of 57s.? A. Yes; but not all of them—I believe the acceptance was drawn at the rate of 57s. but afterwards, I understood that they were to be brought down to 55s.; and there was a promise to make me a further allowance, which, in consequence of Williams's failure, he was not able to perform—he was to allow 1s. a dozen—the date of the letter in which he sends the bill is August 23d—I wanted the bill altered, but he wished it left—(This letter was signed, Charles Williams, stating that he did not think he should require the draft, but requested the witness to tend it, as he should like to have the chance of using it).
DAVID MCLEOD . I am one of the firm of Alexander McLeod, leather merchants, of Glasgow—I know Williams—on 14th October, 1861, I believe, I received this invoice from him—I purchased twenty-four dozen Memel black grain calf of him at 60s. that carried out makes 72l.—I paid for those goods.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Did you pay by bill? A. I believe so, at three months—it was met—we did considerable business with Williams, but I am not aware of all the business that was done with him, as we have two places of business, and I am only connected with one—I do not know the Barrows.
LEONARD HARRIS . I am a leather merchant, of Bear-street, Clare-market—about 11th September, 1861, I purchased B. A. bellies of Williams, 5 cwt 1 qr.; 201bs. at 8d.; total 20l. 5s. 4d.—this is the invoice—I paid every transaction in cash, but one, to the collector, W. D. Balch—this is his receipt of 21st September.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. How many transactions had you with Williams? A. Very few—I cannot say whether this was the first—I have some half down invoices—I selected this one as requested, nearly six weeks ago—one was by a three months bill—I cannot tell whether that was before or after this one—I went to Williams's place of business—I have known him four years—I did not know him when he was in Welch's employ—I know the Barrows, but never dealt with them.
THOMAS SOMERS . I Am a leather merchant, of the firm of Somers and Co, Cheltenham—in December, 1861, I bought of Williams a quantity of English bellies—I received this invoices—(This was,"Bellies 8 1/2 d., 30 cwt 3 qrs at 8 1/2 d., 121l. 19s. 6d.," and was accompanied by a note from Williams, stating that he inclosed the witness a draft for the amount, which he requested might be accepted and returned).
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Did you accept the bill? A. Yes—it was at two months—I have had, perhaps half a dozen transactions with Williams—I took this invoice off the file from several others—I some times pay by cash, and sometimes by bills—I am neither debtor or creditor to Williams.
THOMAS HAWKINS CROSS . I am a leather seller of Batcliffe-cross—on 4th February, I bought of Williams ten New South Wales butts, at 8 1/2 d., and received this invoice (produced)—I paid for the goods.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS By bill? A. No 25l. in cash, on account, and 19l. in a fortnight—I had had two transactions with him previously, and never found any fault
JAMES BARROW (re-examined). The details of these account sales are Balch's writing—the "Charles Williams "is Williams's writing—the details of the account sale of Messrs. Morrell and Halfpenny are in Balch's writing and Williams writes, "Gentleman, I have the pleasure," &c.—this one of Samuel Barrow, of 6th November, it entirely in Balch's writing; and this of 29th August, is in the writing of both prisoners—everything in this letter of 27th February, 1862, is in Belch's writing, except this "Charles Williams," which is Williams's signature; it is addressed to R. D. Barrow.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Among the other books of the bankrupt did you find a letter-book? A. A number of letter-books and invoice-books—I have no letter about the Petersburg—I swear that—the transaction was closed, and I have heard nothing about it since—I have not looked for any—I have not looked in the letter-book to see if there are any there; Mr. Humphreys will give you the letter-books, and if they are not here they are in his office—I do not destroy my letters—I have a great many from Williams—my attention was not called at the police-office to this transaction of the Petersburgs—I have hoard nothing of it for three, years; not since it was effected, which was in August or September, 1859—there is nothing about it in writing to my knowledge—I have not looked through any letters while the prosecution has been going on—I was not told not—this book in my hand is Mr. Williams's letter-book—I do not know who put these slips of paper into it, I did not—I have not taken the trouble to look into it—(Looking at it) I find one letter to, our firm in it, in September, 1859—I have no doubt we received a letter dated September, 17th, 1869, concerning those Petersburgs, as the copy is here—there appears to be an account sale, but that does not affect the purchase.—(MR. GIFPARD objected to the book being put in except as defendant's evidence, no notice to produce it having been given. MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE contended that the witness was bound to produce'all the books in his possession. THE COURT was of opinion that the effect of the letter must not be given without having it read).
MR. CHAMBERS. Q. You have sworn that thaw was an absolute sale to him of Petersburg kips for 577l., will you swear he did not send an account sale of that as a factor? A. He did; I see by this copy that we must bare received a document purporting to represent them; but that does not alter the transaction—that document differed from any document which I have seen—I have not got it here, but at home I have—I know that simply because we have received it, and it has passed through our books—I pat it in our portfolio in the usual was—we never destroy our documents—that is not an account tale as we consider it; it differs from an account sale—we do not receive an account sale from an absolute buyer—I would not send such a document to any customer who bought goods of me; but I can explain that—I know as assignee that, Knights was indebted to a large amount when Williams because indebted to him—I cannot say exactly whether it was l,600l.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did you know anything about the document you have at home, being relevant to this ease when you started from house this morning? A. Certainly not; I received no notice to produce it, or I should have been very happy to have brought it here—from this period till to-day I have never heard those Petersburg kips referred to—we look upon the document simply as a memorandum; a ratification of a bargain we had made a few days before—it is not suppressed—there was no request, to my knowledge, that my father should attend. This is the document (Read:"Sept. 17, 1859. Messrs. J. Barrow and Sons, 1841:—Petersburg kips, 580 cwt. 2qrs. 16lbs. draft, 1 cwt. 2qrs. 3lbs. at 21d. 571l. 19s. 9d. Commission 14l. 0s. 6d., 557l. 13s. 9d., Gentlemen, I have the pleasure of rendering account sale of the above, and have placed the amount to the credit of your account Charles Williams."
COURT. Q. You say that it is mot an account sale, why not? A. The account sale would not give the draft, and it would not give the terms upon which the goods were sold—it was part of the bargain that he should have a commission upon them, that came to us simply as a ratification of the invoice which was sent—the commission does not affect it in the least—I can give you a dozen instances where we have done the same thing—it is in the writing of a former clerk who was there before Williams—it is three years ago.
WILLIAM NETTLETON . I was a clerk in the service of Mr. Williams, about two and a half years—the leather weight book and the consignment book are in my writing—I kept them, and also made part of the entries in the sales journal—some of the entries in this book were made by me and some by Balch.
Cross-examined by MR. CHAMBERS. Q. Was Mr. Williams' a large business in consignments? A. Yes.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Were you in the employ ment before Balch came? A. Yes—Mr. Williams pointed out his duties to him when he came—I was acquainted with an item called "charges"—I had to make entries in the same book, and could not fail to observe it—Williams gave Batch. I believe, from time to time, a slip of paper with the amount of the charges, and they were entered from those slips.
COURT. Q. Have you seen him enter from those slips of paper into the book? A. I cannot say that I saw him always: but I have seen him enter the charges from those slips.
MR. SERGEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Do you and Balch occupy one office? A. Yes; what they call the counting-house—there was alse a warehouse in
which there were warehousemen—there were transactions of purchase and sale as well as brokerage occasional transactions as a merchant as well as a factor—all those transaction were entered in the, sales journal in the same way—there were "charges" in those cases as well—I did not know whether? all the transactions were brokerage, or purchase and sale transactions; they were both entered in the same form, whether it was an absolute sale or not—I received 20l. a year—Balch had 200l. at first, and it was afterwards reduced to 150l.—he was the head clerk:—neither of us had any interest in the business beyond our salary—I know that Williams and the Barrows were on the most intimate terms—I have heard Williams say many times, "Barrow will take so much for these goods; enter them at that price,"
MR. POLAND. Q. When Balch pot down the figures in this column, did he make out the account sales at the same time? A. No; he did that from a copy in the letter-book; a machine copy—the documents that are usually sent to the consignor, are not made out at the same time as these columns; they are filled in afterwards—the sales' journal is filled in after the account sale has been sent; not the whole entry, but Balch's portion—he would have the duplicate before him to fill in those columns from—this account sale to Reuben Barrow is in Balch's writing—here is "charges 2s," that in entered in the sales' journal of 14th February, "charges 13s. 10d.—these sums were not always filled in from slips of paper, only sometimes—I believe a lot of the slips were kept—the "2s. charges" in the invoice is for cartage—I saw the slips—I did not see what was written on them—they were in pencil—I have seen Williams making them out; Balch may have been present—I did not see what they were or what they were made out from—they were not filed; they were kept in a desk.
MR. POLAND to JAMES BARROW. Q. Do you find among the bankrupt's papers, any slips with pencil memorandums on them? A. No, not one—there is nothing, such as he describes, from which these columns could be filled in.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Were you present when the books and papers were seized by the messenger? A. No—I only say that I have not seen any slips—I looked at the papers immediately on being appointed assignee—there were some slips of paper, which I believe are here—they were simply discount notes.
JURY. Q. You say you have examined the books since the bankruptcy, did you find that item "charges" before Balch had been in the service twelve months? A. Certainly—there must have been an interval between Williams' making up his books and the date when Balch's writing commence—in a very few cases I found the same thing in these papers of Balch's—there was a ledger account between us and Williams; we are simply posted with the short amount
CHARLES SMITH HUNT . I am an articled clerk to Messrs. Humphreys, the solicitors for the prosecution—I was seat to Mr. Barrow's father to fetch him here this morning, and learnt that he had gone to the Exhibition.
NOT GUILTY .
(Balch received a food character.)
Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
MR. ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
Kitchen the house; he did not lodge there—he never slept there—I knew to prisoner by her coming to see him at the warehouse—on Wednesday, 9th July, the prisoner came to the warehouse; Munns was there at the time—it was somewhere about 11 o'clock, I think, or a little before—Mrs. Allen came with the prisoner—the prisoner and Munns went into my parlour—Mrs. Munns came in—I said to Munns, "Here comes Mrs. Munns," and he opened the door for her to walk into the parlour where I was—the prisoner went by the name of Mrs. Munns—she then asked him where he had been all night—he made her no reply—she asked him again—he made her no reply, and she then said, "You don't care whether I have anything to eat or not; you have been out all night spending your night, and you know you left me without any food yesterday"—she said that he left her all day with 2s.—he said, "You can have what you like"—she said she would have rump steak, and he brought in beef steak—he said he could not get rump steak, but that that was beautiful beef steak—she said, "Well, I like rump steak; it you have got no money for rump steak, I shall have rump steak"—she asked him for some money, and I think he gave her some, for I heard him say, "That is all I have got"—she said she was going for it herself, and I went out into the shop and left them—there was then on the table a basin with some potatoes in, and a knife; the knife was afterwards shown to me—I might have been in the shop about ten minutes—when I came back I found the prisoner's dress was all over wet, and she said he had done it—I thought she had spilt something down her dress.
COURT. Q. What brought you back? did you hear any noise, or did you merely come back by accident? A. I came back because I had served the customers in the shop.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. Did the prisoner seem distressed when you came in? A. Very much; she was crying very much—I asked her what was the matter, and she said, "I have done it—she repeated that—the deceased was standing in the parlour—I think he had a tumbler in his hand when I came back, but I won't be quite sure—he left the parlour then, and went into the warehouse—the prisoner followed him, saying; I think, "My dear boy, I am afraid you are dying"—she sent for a doctor—she said, "Oh! my dear," several times—the doctor came—he did not examine Munns—I was present when he ordered him to be taken to the Hospital, and he was taken there in a cab; the prisoner went with him—I afterwards saw him at the Hospital when he was dead.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Before the prisoner came, had you been peeling potatoes? A. While she was there I had; not before she came—the knife was one I used in the business, for cutting cabbages, and anything that we wanted it for in the shop—it rather sharp—I had left it lying on the table with the bason and potatoes—when I came back I did not hear anything said by the prisoner, in Munns' presence, as to how it had happened—I only heard her say, "I have done it"—she had thrown some beer in his face, but I did not see that—I was in the shop when it was thrown—when I came back and found her dress wet, and him standing there, she only said that she had done it
MRS. ALLEN. I am the wife of Thomas Allen, of 23, Stanley-terrace, Stanley-road, Brompton—the prisoner, and Munns, the deceased, had been lodging at my house as man and wife for about a fortnight before this, by the name of Mr. and Mrs. waters—on Wednesday morning, 9th July, the prisoner asked me to go with her to the warehouse in Great Dover-road, to see for her husband, who, she said, had not been home all night,
and she was very anxions about him—I and my little boy, and the prisoner, went by water to the Great Dover-road, and walked on to the warehouse—I there saw Mr. waters—I have since heard that he is called Munns—they shook hands when they met—she asked where he had been all night—he refused to girt any intelligence of where he had been—she said he did not care whether she had anything to eat or not, and that he had only left her with 2s.—they invited me and my little boy into the parlour, and we all went into the parlour together—some words took place regarding money matters, and as to where he had been—she said that she had put shoes on his feet when he had none, and now he was spending his money in waste, and had left her to starve—she said she had had nothing to eat that day; she should like some dinner, and she desired him to bring some rump steak—he went out and brought in beef steak, and there were some words about that—she said if he would not get ramp steak she would go and get some herself as she could not eat that—she put on her things to go out, and did so; and, in going, she passed Mr. Munns, who was sitting in a chair, with some beer in his hand—some obstruction took place—whether she pushed him, or he pushed her, I cannot say; I was sitting down; but, as she passed, he immediately jumped up and dashed the beer over her face—he passed me, and I said, "If you are going to quarrel, I shall go away"—I said that before the beer was thrown—immediately it was thrown in her face, the prisoner took up the knife which was on the table, and, as he was passing the corner of the table, she struck him, and then immediately said, "why have you provoked me to this? I fear I have done for you"—that was a moment or so after she struck the blow—she seemed very much excited after the beer was thrown in her face, and screamed very much both before and after she had struck him—I got up to pass, and Munns said, "Don't go, Mrs. Allen, stay"—afterwards he walked out gently into the warehouse where I heard him fall, and make a groan—the prisoner followed him crying all the time, and I then beard her say, "Oh! my dear Jem, I think you are dying "—she requested me to go for a doctor, and I went for one as quick as I could—the doctor came—when the man threw the beer in the prisoner's face, he said, "Go to hell"—that was when she was going for the steak—this (produced) is the knife she took up—it was lying on the table close by.
Cross-examined. Q. After the beer was thrown, and before the blow, did she not seem in a very great state of excitement? A. Yes; she was excited because he would not say where he had been—she seemed extremely excited after the beer was thrown, and the offensive expression used—the prisoner had only been lodging in our house a fortnight, and during that time she had shown herself extremely kind and affectionate, and seemed warmly attached to him—I thought they were very fond of each other—I never heard, until at Dover street, that they were shortly to be married—I did not know but what they were man and wife—after she said, "Why did you provoke me so?" she seemed very much affected, so that we could hardly keep her up—she showed all the anxious solicitude and affection that an affectionate wife could to her husband.
FRANK BUZZARD . I was house-surgeon at Guy's Hospital on Wednesday, 9th July—I saw the deceased man, Munns, when he was brought there—he was in a very faint condition from loss of blood, and there was a punctured wound on the right side of the chest, not in front; it was between the eighth and ninth ribs—I afterwards made a post mortem examination, and found that the wound passed through the base of the right lung into the
liver—it was a punctured would, and was the cause of death—it is such a wound as might have been produced by this knife—he died eight hours after he came in.
WILLIAM RICH (Policeman, M 89). On Wednesday morning, 9th July, I was celled to the warehouse in Great Dover-street-road, and found the deceased, who had been stabbed, lying down—the prisoner was with him and was dabbing the blood at his side with a handkerchief—she did not speak to me—she was speaking to him, but I never heard him speak at all—she afterwards told him she feared he was dying; she seemed in distress—I took him to the hospital in a cab, then I went back and asked whether she would go to the hospital with me; she said she would—I took her to the hospital, and then went to the station; I then went back to the warehouse, and found the knife where he had been lying, and also the waistcoat and coat, stabbed through—when I took her in custody, she said, "I have done it, I have done it, I believe he is dying"—she seemed to be in great trouble; that was in the warehouse—she said that she was peeling or scraping potatoes; and he threw some beer in her face; and she caught up the knife and struck at him with it; and she did not know she had struck him until she saw him faint
Cross-examined. Q. Was she staunching the blood with her handkerchief at the time you were there? A. Yes; when I first went in—she seemed in great trouble, and was crying.
—TURPIN (Police-inspector, M). I saw the prisoner at the station—I did not take the charge—she said, "He was out all last night and got drunk; I came home to look after him and we had a few words; he picked up a glass of beer and threw in my face, when I did it, but I did not think that I had hurt him until I saw the blood"—when going to the hospital in the cab, she seemed to be in very great trouble and distress, and said she hoped he would not die—she gave her name as Catherine Nolan.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not her expression, that he had thrown a glass of beer in her face, which had blinded her? A. Yes; those were her words.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.
MR. LILLEY dated that the prisoner had been about to be married to the deceased, to whom she was warmly attached.
Confined Nine Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CARTER Conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE JEFFERY ADMONDS (Policeman, R 62). On Sunday morning, 10th August, I was on duty at New-cross, in the parish of Deptford, in plain clothes, about 5 o'clock—I saw the prisoner going from New-cross towards London, with a bundle under his left arm, tied up in a hankerchief—I stopped him and asked him what he had got there—he said,. "My wife's dress"—I asked him to let me look at it, and I found one dress, three shirts, and an apron—I asked him where he got the shirts from he said his wife bought them at Deptford—I asked him where he lived—he said, "In King-street, Borough"—I told him I was not satisfied with that account as the bundle was tied up in a handkerchief—he said that they got drunk and undid the parcel, and tied it up in that way—I took him in custody—I searched him at the station, but found nothing on him.
GEORGE JAMES HILLSTEAD . I live at Rutland-villa, New-cross—on the morning of 10th August, I came down about a quarter-past 6, and found the door open leading into a passage in the garden—I went down stairs and found a window, opposite the breakfast parlour, leading into that passage, open—two squares of glass were broken, and an iron bar forced out—that was large enough for a person to get in—I should think it was about a quarter to 1, or a little after 1 that morning, when I went to bed—I went down stairs and looked at the fastenings, and into the breakfast parlour, and looked at the fastenings there—they were all right then—next morning, I missed the dress, and these three shirts from the breakfast parlour—I saw them lying on the table when I went to bed—there was also an ornament moved off the mantel-shelf, and the clock had stopped at twenty minutes past 4—these are my things, and were safe the night before—I saw them at the station on Sunday morning, 10th August, about a quarter past 7, a few hours after they were lost—they consist of three shirts, a dress, and a black silk apron—they are mine—my house is in the parish of St. Paul's, Deptford.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about the house having been broken open; I admit having the things.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted.
CHARLES HODGSON (Police-serjeant, B 36). I produce a certificate—(Read: "Central Criminal Court, April 1858, John Brown, convicted of burglary; sentenced to Four Years' Penal Servitude)—I was present—the prisoner is the person—I had him in custody.
Prisoner. That are both mistaken; I am not the same man.
GUILTY .**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm, Kerr, Esq.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM GULLIVER . I am a labourer, and live at Clerkenwell—on Tuesday, 1st July, between 2 and 3 in the morning, I was coming from Peckham, and got into Mint-street, Borough; into some streets which I was not acquainted with—I was standing and looking about me in Kent-street, when the prisoner came up, took me by the collar, and said that I must deliver up my money—I did not do so, and he knocked me down—two others were with him—the men came up directly afterwards—they knocked me down; the prisoner kept me down, and the other two robbed me of 7s. 6d.—the prisoner kept me down, and the other two ran away to the public-house across the road—I saw the prisoner go across into the public-house; he dared me to get up till they were gone—I afterwards met a policeman, told him I had been robbed, and went to the public-house; there were about twelve or thirteen men there—I pointed the prisoner out to the policeman, as the man who had robbed me—I am quite sure he is the man—I had
sufficient opportunity to see his face—there was a lamp post close by where I was robbed.
COURT. Q. Are you quite sore there were only two men? A. Two besides the prisoner; there were three altogether. THE COURT having read the witness deposition over to him, directed the Jury to find a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CLERK and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
MARTHA JONES . I am the wife of Richard Jones, a pipe mould maker, of Kent-street, Southwark—on Thursday, 24th July, Barry came for a quarter of a pound of wire—I served him, and he gave me a shilling—I tried it, bent it, and found it was bad—I then spoke to my husband, and a constable was sent for—I told the prisoner it was a bad shilling, and he gave me a good one—I gave him the change, and we allowed him to go—two policemen afterwards came in—I saw my husband break that shilling that I took—I should know it again—it was given to one of the constables.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Had you known Barry before? A. No—he was not in my place more than half a minute—three constables came in—they all left together—I saw Barry again when I went into the Court—the following day I saw both the prisoners together at the bar—I knew they were charged with this offence.
MR. POLAND. Q. Was M 258 one of the constable that came to your shop? A. Yes—I am sure Barry is the man.
JAMES GODBY (Policeman, M 258). I went to Mrs. Jones's shop on this Thursday morning, and saw Barry there—some conversation took place about a bad shilling—after Barry left I followed him—he went into Napier-street, about forty or fifty yards from Mrs. Jones's shop—I saw him go up and speak to Coghlin—I was then within about six or seven yards of them, and heard Barry say, "They found it out to be a bad shilling"—Barry was at that time carrying the wire—this was just a little after 6 o'clock—they went away, and I did not see any more of them till they were in custody—I am positive Coghlin is the man—I picked him out from among five men.
Coghlin. I was not there—I was at work at the wharf—I never saw Barry before till they brought him into the station.
ELIZABETH COLLIER . My husband keeps the Butcher's Arms, in Long-lane, Bermondsey—on the night of 24th July, about half-past 10 or 11, the Prisoners, I believe, came into my house—I cannot swear to Barry—he called for half-a-pint of beer and half a screw of tobacco, and gave me a shilling—I put it in the till and gave him 6d. and 4 1/2 d. change—I did not see anything of Coghlin at that time, he came in about two minutes afterwards—Barry went outside and looked through the side window—the one who came in first went out, and the other came in about two minutes afterwards, and while I was serving him the one I had served first looked through the side window—Coghlin gave me a bad shilling, and I then went to the till—I had only fourpenny pieces and half-crowns in the till—I had no other shilling there, and had not put one in—I found the other shilling that I had put in to be bad also—I said to Coghlin, "This is a bad shilling"—he said, "I have taken it in my day's work "—I said, "Your mate succeeded so well, you
thought you would try "—he said, "I have no mates about here," or something of that sort—I sent for a constable, gave him into custody, and at the station gave the policeman the two bad shillings—I saw Barry that evening outside the station, about 10 minutes after what took place at my house—I walked down to the station with Coghlin in custody, and then saw Barry there—I am not able to say positively that he is the man who gave me the shilling—I had not seen him before.
WILLIAM MACDONOUGH (Policeman, M 253). I was called to Mrs. Collier's house on 24th July, and took Coghlin into custody—Mrs. Collier produced two bad shillings, and charged Coghlin with uttering one—I saw Barry about twenty minutes after—I was given to understand on the way to the station that there had been another man, and he was described to me—I afterwards apprehended Barry about 200 yards from the station, in a place called Snow's Fields—he asked me why I took him—I did not say at first—he asked me again, and I said, I had received a description of him as being in the public-house—he said at first he was not in Long-lane at all—he afterwards said there was a crowd there, and he went to see what it was—I searched him at the station, and found on him two sixpences, two fourpenny pieces, 1 threepenny piece, and 5 1/2 d. in copper—nothing on Coghlin—I brought them both before the inspector, and he made some remark about their working together—Coghlin said, "It is foolishness to say so, we have never seen each other before—I received these two pieces of a shilling from Mrs. Jones (produced)—they are all the same date.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months each.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH JANE UNDERHILL . I am the wife of William Underhill, who keeps the Bricklayers' Arms beer-shop, Battersea-square—on 21st July, about 9 o'clock in the morning, as near as I can recollect, the prisoner came in, and asked for a glass of sixpenny ale, which is three-halfpence—I served him, and he gave me a sixpence—I tried it in my teeth, and found it was bad—when I was bending it, the prisoner said, "Don't bend it"—I bent it a second time, and returned it to him—he said he had taken it at the Albert Tavern, in Battersea Park—he broke it in two pieces, and put it in his pocket—he then paid me with good money, and left—I am quite positive it was a bad sixpence.
CHARLES CLARKE . I keep the Jolly Waggoners, York-road, Battersea—about 11, on 21st July, the prisoner came to my house, called for half a pint of porter, and tendered me a bad sixpence—I put it in my teeth, and found it was bad—I asked him where he got it from—he said he had taken it in change for a five shilling-piece, at a house called the Farnborough Arms, in Battersea—I gave it him back, and he paid me in good money—the price of the porter was a penny—my house is about half a mile from Battersea-square.
AMELIA SHEPPARD . My father keeps the Railway Tavern, at Wandsworth—the prisoner came to our house on 21st July, and called for a pint of four half-and-half—I served him, and he gave me sixpence—I tried it in the tester—it bent—it was bad—I showed it to my mother, and she spoke to the prisoner—he then paid with good money, and took the bad sixpence
away—he said he got it from the Jolly Gardeners—I don't know the Jolly Gardeners.
AMELIA SHEPPARD . I saw the prisoner at our bar—my daughter showed me a bad sixpence—it was an old black sixpence, not of the Queen's reign—he said first he took it at the Jolly Gardeners, and then he recalled his words, and said he had taken it at the Jolly Waggoners—he paid me with good money, and went away—I don't know the Jolly Waggoners.
Prisoner. Q. Was it not half a pint I called for? A. No; a pint—you had an old man, dressed in a Union dress, with you.
DAVID FROST . I am a butcher, and live at Wandsworth—about half-past 12, on 21st July, the prisoner came to my shop, which is about a quarter of a mile from the Railway Tavern, and asked for two-penny worth of steak—I served him, and he gave me a bad sixpence—I bit it quite in two, and said, "This is a bad one"—I put it on the block, and he took it up directly with his left hand—he then tendered me a good florin—I gave him change, and he went away—I had my suspicions about him, and I followed him into the town—I saw him speak to two men and a woman, just opposite Stimson's, another butcher's—the two men and woman went forward, and the prisoner sat down—I went into the Grapes public-house, and cautioned the barmaid—as I came out, I met the prisoner—he did not observe me, and he went in there—I afterwards saw him come very quickly out, and I went in again, and asked what he had tendered—he was taken into custody the same day—the two men and woman went away—I cannot tell what passed between them
GEORGE WILDER . I keep the Grapes at Wandsworth—on 21st July, the prisoner came to my house at a few minutes to 1, and called for half a pint of porter—I served him, and he gave me a sixpence—I caught hold of it, gave it a turn on the counter, and doubled it completely up; I then threw it to him, and said, "You must not do that here"—he then took up the pieces of the sixpence and pulled out a shilling—I have seen the bent sixpence that was found on him by the constable—that is not the sixpence the prisoner gave me—I am quite sure of that—it was a bit of pewter.
Prisoner. Q. What time was this? A. Somewhere about one.
JOHN PAGE (Policeman, V 149). I took the prisoner, and said to him, "Perhaps you will walk in here along with me"—that was the Grapes public-house—he said, "Oh yes, of course I will, and you can search me; but you will be sucked in this time—you won't find any bad money on me"—I had not said anything to him about bad money, or what he was to go to the Grapes for—I took him into the Grapes and he was identified—I searched him first, and found three sixpences, two fourpenny bits, and 2s. 5d. in copper, good money, and two quarter pounds of beef.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. GENT conducted the prosecution.
JOHN WILSON . I am a livery stable keeper at Highbury, Islington—my place goes by the name of "Wilson's Yard"—it is close to Highbury-place—on 10th June, the prisoner called there, and said he wished to hire a horse and chaise for a Mr. Lee, who was a wine merchant, and was going that day to the Jolly Butchers at Southgate, and he wished it to be sent to 70, Packington-street—I said we would get it ready, and send it down, and the ostler's young man took it there—I believe the prisoner did ask if he
should take it himself, but we refused that—he was a stranger to us—he hired it for the day—it should have been returned that night—I saw the ostler start from the yard—I know Packington-street very well—I did not know anybody named Lee there—I afterwards found the chaise it Mr. Sawyer's, a livery stable keeper, at 71, Curtain Road—I received two letters—I do not know whose writing they are—I saw the prisoner next at Wandsworth police-station last Thursday week—the pony and chaise were worth 50l.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. Q. Are you quite sure the prisoner is the man who came to you? A. Yes; quite sure—there were two others, but I only saw the prisoner.
GEORGE SLATTER . I am in the employ of Mr. Wilson as ostler—on 10th June I took a pony and phaeton to 70, Packington-street—about 100 yards before I got to the door the prisoner got into the chaise—he said it was a very nice pony and trap—he drove himself from there to No. 70—when we got there, two other gentlemen came out of the door, jumped in, and drove off as fast as they could drive—I saw no more of the chaise and horse for some time.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he not say he thought Mr. Lee would like it, that it would suit Mr. Lee? A. No; he never made any other remark—if he did say that I mistook him.
ADRIANA SILAMMI . I am the wife of Gustavns Silammi, a merchant, living at 70, Packington-street—we occasionally let apartments there—I had some to let at the beginning of June—I don't know the date exactly—I remember two persons coming to look at them, and while doing so I saw a chaise drive up—they then said they would call again in half an hour with the references, and then got into the chaise and drove away—there was another person in the chaise—they did not come back—I do not know Mr. Lee, a wine merchant, living with me in that house—one of the two men who came into the house had carroty hair.
JOHN PICKFORD . I live at Catford-buildings, City-road—a short time ago I was part lessee and collector of the City-road toll-gate—I remember the prisoner driving through the gate in a chaise with somebody else, about two months ago—the prisoner was sitting in the dickey behind—he was not driving—it was a four-wheel chaise, and a grey gelding pony—the carroty haired party asked me if I would buy it—the prisoner could hear what be said—they then went away and came back again—I had a ride with them to see how it went—I did not buy it—I should have bought it but this young man told me it did not belong to him—I had advanced the other a little money, and put the horse and chaise up at Sawyer's stables for security—it was left with me, without advancing any more money, to try it—the carroty one, Horrocks, owed me 2l. altogether.
COURT. Q. You kept it after the prisoner told you it did not belong to the carroty haired one. A. Yes; I put it up for security—he told me that in the evening, about eight o'clock—it was then in my possession—I advanced no money to the prisoner—I don't think he knew that the other had had any money of me—he was away when I gave it to him.
THE COURT considered there was no case against the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
for hire—the prisoner came to me about two o'clock on 22d May, and asked me if I had got a little trap I could let him have, to go to Merton or Mitcham to take tea with his aunt—he said he should be home at half-past eight or nine at the very outside—I agreed to let him have it—we did not agree about payment—he left my yard with the pony and chaise—on the following Tuesday a policeman came to me from Hampstead station, and told me my pony and chaise was at the Greyhound, at Hendon, which is kept by Mr. Bundle—I went and found it there five days afterwards—the value of it was 20l. altogether.
Cross-examined by MR. TAYLOR. Q. Did not you receive a letter, stating that it was at the Greyhound? A. Yes; I received two letters—the prisoner had not borrowed a chaise of me before, but the carroty one had—it always came back when he had it—I don't believe the prisoner went with him them—I don't think I had seen the prisoner before. I thought I knew him—I said to him, "You come out of The Walk, don't you"—he said, "Yes, of course; you know me," and I let him have the chaise—I do not know who the letter came from.
MR. GENT. Q. Do you know whose writing this letter is (produced), or who it came from? A. No; I mislaid the other—it was only to say that the pony and chaise was there, and I could have it if I fetched it—the postage was not paid on either of the letters—the other one specified that he had met with a misfortune, and could not bring it home himself, but if I went to Hendon I could have it by paying the expenses—I expect they both came from the man who hired it—James Paxton is the person, I believe, who is purported to write that letter; one of the prisoner's friends, I believe.
THOMAS BUNDLE . I keep the Greyhound Inn, at Hendon—on the 22d May the prisoner and another man came to my place, and put up, with a poor and trap—the next day they asked me to buy it—the prisoner was taking the pony away from my stable and I stopped it—he said he had got no money to pay for the horse's keep—I said I should detain the pony and trap till I was paid—he then asked me to buy pony and chaise—I said, "No; I have a horse and cart of my own, it would be useless to me"—he then said, "You shall have it for 30l." and I again said it would be useless to me—I then asked him if it was his own property, and he said, "Yes, it is; my father will be very sorry if I part with it."
COURT. Q. What was the use of asking him whose property it was, if you did not want to buy it? A. Because I thought he was asking an over price for it; more than I thought it was worth.
MR. GENT. Q. Did you advance him 10s.? A. Yes; on his promise to pay me when he fetched the pony and chaise away—he did not come back and fetch it before I finally lost sight of him—he came over with Mr. Johnson, and they looked at the pony in my stable—I was present—he offered it to Johnson for sale—he said it was his own—I did not hear any price offered—Johnson did not buy it—the owner came for it on the Tuesday following—he paid the horse's expenses, but not the 10s. that was lent upon it.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you let them have 10s.? A. The prisoner—the other man was out of doors at the time—they said they would return in two or three days and pay me what they owed me, and I let them have the 10s. to carry them to London.
MR. GENT. Q. Would you have let him have the 10s. without keeping the pony and chaise? A. No; he was a perfect stranger to me—I gave
it him after T said I would keep the pony and chaise, just as he was going away.
RICHARD JOHHSON . I live at Hampstead, and let donkeys and ponies for hire—on 24th May my man let two ponies to the prisoner and another man, not in my presence—to my knowledge there was 18s. expenses incurred: 1s. 6d. an hour—I saw them fetched back—I saw the prisoner come back with the ponies—when I told him what there was to pay he said he had no money—his share would have been 9s.—I first took them to the station, and the sergeant advised me to take them to Hendon—the prisoner then offered to go to an uncle of his, a Mr. Kirby, and he would lend him money—we went, and he would not lend him any—I afterwards, at his request, went to Mr. Bundle's, the Greyhound Inn, Hendon—the prisoner said he had got a very nice pony and chaise there—he said the pony was his own, and the chaise and harness was his father's—he said as he could not get any money would I buy the pony and chaise of him—I said, "I will look at it"—I asked Mr. Bundle if he would let me see the pony walk a yard as he might be lame, and he said, "Not an inch out of my stable till I am paid the debt they have incurred here"—I then said I would have nothing at all to do with it, and came away—we stopped at the Bell, at Hendon, and then they got away—I did not see them get away—I just turned myself round and they were gone.
Cross-examined. Q. Then he owes you the 9s. now? A. Yes—the Grey-hound is about three miles and a half from the station-house.
HENRY WILLIS (Policeman, V 97). I took the prisoner in custody, and told him he was charged with stealing Mr. North's pony and chaise—he said he thought it was all settled—that was after he came out of prison the first time, when I apprehended him coming out.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know this carroty party? A. No.
The Jury having been locked up five hours without being able to agree, were discharged without giving any verdict.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 22, 1862.