CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
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.
SESSION I. TO SESSION VI.
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, November 24th, 1862, and following days.
BEFORE the Right Hon. WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , M.P., Lord Mayor of the City of London; Sir John Barnard Byles, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir George Bramwell, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; William Taylor Copeland, Esq., M.P.; Sir Francis Graham Moon, Bart, F.S.A.; Sir Robert Walter Carden, Knt.; John Carter, Esq., F.A.S. and F.R.A.S., Aldermen of the said City; Russell Gurney, Esq. Q.C., Recorder of the said City; William Ferneley Allen, Esq.; Thomas Gabriel, Esq.; James Abbiss, Esq.; Thomas Dakin, Esq.; Robert Besley, Esq.; and Sills John Gibbons, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; Thomas Chambers, Esq. Q.C., Common Serjeant of the said City; and Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq., Judge of the Sheriff's Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
The following Prisoners, upon whom the Judgment of the Court was respited at the time of Trial, have since been sentenced as under:
Vol. lvii. Page Sentence.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
ROSE, MAYOR. FIRST SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—too stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
OLD COURT.—Monday, November 24th, 1862.
GABRIEL; and Mr. Ald. GIBBONS.
Before Mr. Recorder.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY with MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
The record in an action of "Waterlow v. Bray" for goods sold and delivered, tried in the Secondaries' Court, on 18th April, 1860, was put in; also the record in an action of "Bray v. Waterlow" for malicious prosecution, tried before Mr. Justice Mellor, in the Court of Queen's Bench, 17th June, 1862, when a nonsuit was entered for the plaintiff.
JOHN COOKE . I am a short-hand writer, of No. 48, Bedford-row—I was employed to take notes of the evidence in the case of "Bray v. Waterlow"—I have a transcript of my notes here—the defendant was sworn as a witness on that occasion—he appeared to give evidence on his own behalf—I have compared my transcript with my notes—(The witness read the transcript at length; the portion upon which the perjury was assigned, was to the effect that the prisoner was a civil engineer, and a member of the Institution of Civil Engineers; that he did not sign the agreement referred to in the case; that the signature of William Bray thereto was not his signature; that he had no interest whatever in the Haford property, nor any interest in the Haford mines; and that he never contemplated any interest in the profits of the said property)—The plaintiff agreed to be nousuited.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE (with MR. WOOLETT). Q. In point of fact, I believe the plaintiff was nonsuited during the time he was in the witness-box? A. I rather think that was so.
ALFRED JAMES WATERLOW . I am the senior partner in the firm of Messrs. Waterlow, carrying on business as lithographers in Birohin-lane, and also in Parliament-street—I was present at the trial before Mr. Justice Mellor, on 17th June, last, in the Bail Court—I sat facing the Judge and the witness—this stamped agreement (produced) is the agreement, the handwriting of which the prisoner then denied—it was the first document that
was put into his hands (read:"We, the undersigned, being mutually interested in the profits arising, or that may hereafter arise, from and out of the working of the mineral sets or mines on the Haford estate, in Cardiganshire, have agreed to use our individual and united influence and exertion in forming a company, nnder the provisions of the Joint Stock Company's Act, of 1856, with limited liability or otherwise; and, in consideration of such exertion and influence, as aforesaid, we hereby further agree to divide the profits arising, or that may hereafter arise, from or out of the sale of the mineral sets or mines, aforesaid, in equal proportions, share and share alike, and whether such profits shall result from the united or individual efforts of us, or any, or either of us. As witness our hands, this 30th April, 1858, John Arthur, William Bray, and James Crane"—(In one portion of the agreement there was an erasure, against which appeared the initials, W. B., J.C, and J. A.")—This duplicate agreement was the document that was afterwards put into his hands, and the signature to which he denied—I do not remember his attention being called to the initials on the first paper—there are the same initials on the second paper—this letter (produced) is the letter upon which the prisoner was cross-examined, and which he admitted to be his handwriting (read:"To John Arthur, Esq. 11th May, 1858. Dear Sir,—I have yours of the 10th instant, covering copy of a letter to W. Chambers, Esq., upon which I have no remark to offer at present. You are aware that from the first I was drawn into the Haford mines affair, upon the clear understanding that the profits was to be equally divided between yourself, Mr. Crane, and me. That understanding was ratified by an agreement entered into between us three parties, and which was no more hastily entered into by you than by myself; and, therefore, to make an agreement one day to abrogate the next, seems to be absurd. As I understand the agreement, it is to divide between us equally the profits after all expenses are paid; and to that I adhere. Tour responsibility in the matter is no more than any one of us are liable to in any way. You must be aware that the time of a professional man, like myself, cannot be taken up with impunity to disregard in remuneration. You speak of the prejudice of Taylor. Do you think that I, for one moment, care a straw for the prejudice of a dishonest and dishonourable man like Taylor? My name shall not be even brought in question with such a fellow. I apprehend that Messrs. Le Blane & Co. and Mr. Canceller know some one besides yourself in this matter, whatever you may think or write. You say that you bring all the property to market. You brought only Fair Rhos; the remainder have been added in the course of the correspondence that have taken place thereon. But who drew up that correspondence? We might go on to the end of our days making agreements to break them in letter and spirit. I am not so inclined, whatever be the hesitation which you shadow forth. I am, dear sir, yours faithfully, William B. Bray. Memorandum.—Haford mines property was publicly brought to market by repeated advertisement; but who found the customers? P. S. Mr. Crane has the copies. W. B. B.")—This letter, of 1st February, 1858 (produced), was also put into his hands—his attention was called to that letter in cross-examination—it is from the prisoner to Mr. Neal—it is signed "William Bray."
Cross-examined. Q. Were you present at the original trial in the Secondaries' Court? A. No—I could not say from recollection who was there watching the proceedings, except Mr. Gant, our attorney—I do not know, of my own knowledge, that he was present; I take it for granted he
was; he ought to have been—I know from him that the agreement was produced on that occasion, and that the verdict was for the defendant—I do not know, of my own knowledge, that the agreement was impounded by the desire of the defendant—I have heard that it was impounded, but I really do not know—I knew nothing whatever of the prisoner before, or of the orders, personally; I knew nothing of anything—I did not know Crane—I can't positively say who it was in our establishment who was really dealing in this matter; it would be one of our shopmen, is Birchin-lane—I do not think there is any one here from our establishment who can give an account of the original dealing, or who gave the original order—one of our foremen is here; there are two gentlemen here who may be able to tell—(Notice to the pritoner to produce the duplicate agreement, dated 30th April, 1858, was admitted; it wat not produced).
FRANCIS ROBERT LEAVER . I am in the employment of Messrs. Waterlow, and have been for some years; I am their collecting clerk—I do not know, of my own knowledge, of these orders having been given or executed—I recollect the trial before Mr. Secondary Potter, on 18th April, 1860—previous to the trial, I had some communication with Mr. Gant respecting the agreement; and before the trial came on, I went to our office, in Birchin-lane, and there searched to see if I could find the original agreement—Mr. McCabe was present when it was found—we keep a letter-rack for the purpose of putting all agreements in, which are left to be called for—this agreement had been in that letter-rack, and it had got underneath the partition; and there I found it on that morning—I took it back to the Court; and it was on that occasion put into the hands of the prisoner—I heard him deny that it was his handwriting—at the close of the case, the prisoner's counsel asked that that document should be impounded; and it was accordingly impounded—I was not present at the trial in the Queen's Bench.
Cross-examined. Q. Who was counsel for Mr. Bray on that occasion? A. Mr. Metcalfe.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Do you know whether, since that trial, Mr. Bray has changed both his counsel and attorney? A. I do.
JOHN MCCABE . I am in the employment of Messrs. Waterlow, and have been for a great many years—I took the order from Crane to stamp this agreement—I received the agreement from him for that purpose—after getting it stamped I placed it in the letter-cage, by the side of my desk—I can't say when I received it, it is a long while ago; the stamp will show—I find my mark on it, "2s. 6d.," the necessary stamp—the date on the stamp is 14th May, 1858—it was stamped through our office—after a good deal of searching, Mr. Leaver found it—it was in the proper place for it, but it had slipped down under the partition—these reports (produeed) were lithographed in our office—this account is the account furnished from our house for the business which was then done, the stamping of the agreement and the reports.
Cross-examined. Q. Is that account in your handwriting? A. No—I had nothing to do with sending it; it is not in my department—I believe I took the order for these reports being lithographed, from Mr. Crane—I am able to say that they were lithographed in our establishment—I know the writing; the style—it is done in a law style, such as is done in our law office—it is written on the transfer paper, and is then transferred to the stone; that is the process of lithography—that was not done by me, but it was done in our office—(MR. SERJEANT PARRY handed in the writ in the first action, with the particulars of demand endorsed upon it).
JAMES CRANE . I am a Mining agent—I have been very unfortunate in business, and have been insolvent three times—in 1858 I knew Mr. Bray, the prisoner—I had known him before that; nine or twelve months, perhaps; I won't be certain—I remember an attempt to establish a company in respect of the Haford Mine, in Cardiganshire, belonging to Mr. Willliam Chambers, who was the owner of the soil—Mr. Bray had something to do with it—I knew a person of the name of John Arthur at that time quite well—he was a coal-owner at one time—I think he had some interest in the colliery—he has died since then—about eighteen months from that time, or, perhaps, more, I don't exactly know, I and Arthur had communications with the prisoner respecting this mine—I don't exactly recollect the dates, but it was about three months before that agreement of 30th April—I saw Mr. Bray pretty nearly every day—we met on the subject of the arrangement of a company for the Haford property; the mining property—Arthur lived at that time in Dalby-terrace, City-road; No. 16, I think—we used to meet on 'Change, or at the Ship, and occasionally in Dalby-terrace—we met nearly every day, at one place or another, on that subject—it was discussed by me, Mr. Bray, and Arthur—the body of this document (the agreement) is in my handwriting, and I saw the prisoner write this signature, "William Bray," and I wrote mine immediately afterwards—the initials, "W. B.," to the alteration, are his—I am sure I saw him put them—there were three agreements signed at the same time; Bray had one, Arthur one, and I had one—this is the one that Arthur had—the signature, "William Bray," to this is also the prisoner's; they are all the same—I think this took place at 16, Dalby-terrace; I am not positive of it; we used to meet sometimes at one place and sometimes another—we were all three together when the three agreements were drawn up and signed by the prisoner, and when the initials were put to the alteration.
Q. Did you, in April, May, and July, order certain work to be done by Messrs. Waterlow? A. I took certain work, on this property and other, for Bray—the items on the writ, of April 13th and 14th, 1858, refer to the Haford Mine—the item of May 14th refers to the agreement that I left at Messrs. Waterlow's to be stamped—I have no recollection of the 2d. for postage-stamps on 17th May—the report of the Cappagh Copper Mine was a report of Bray's, and the Horse Island also—I took them for him; I had nothing to do with them; I had no interest in them whatever—the only interest I had was in the Haford—I had no interest whatever in the Cappagh Copper Mine, or the Horse Island Mine; they were for Mr. Bray—he was aware that this work was being done by Messrs. Waterlow—he requested me to take it for him to Waterlow's—he wanted them done in a particular way, and he said it would cost 60l. or 70l., and I told him they would not do that without security, or something of that sort—these (produced) are the reports that I ordered from Messrs. Waterlow—this is the prisoner's signature—there are four of them here which Mr. Bray drew up—they were ordered by Mr. Bray's direction—I took them there for him—they were his composing—this is his signature at the back of one of these reports—I received some copies when they were lithographed—I gave some copies to Mr. Bray—we divided them pretty equally—this letter of 11th May, is in Bray's writing, and also this letter of let February—this letter of 26th March, 1858, is also his—(The following postage was read from this letter)—"Dear Neale, I have had a letter from Crane; he says they have a satisfactory letter from Mr. Chambers; I hope to be at the Jamaica on Saturday, at half-past 12"—This letter (produced) is headed "London, 10th April, 1858,
copy"—the whole of that letter is my writing, except the word "copy"—(This was the draft of a letter to Mr. Chambers in relation to the property in question)—this letter, dated 30th April, is the prisoner's writing—it is addressed to Messrs. Le Blane and Co.—the whole of it is Bray's writing—it was written at Dalby-terrace—this (produced) is my writing—it is a copy of that letter of Mr. Bray's, and John Arthur signed it—the body of this letter of 1st May is my writing—it is a copy of this letter, and signed by Arthur—(read)—this letter of 30th April is Bray's writing—it is not addressed to any one—it is dated from Dalby-terrace where Arthur lived, as if he had to copy it—(This was addressed to Mr. Chambers, and entered into details respecting the property)—these other letters, dated 4th and 8th May and 27th March, are all in Bray's writing, except the date, that is Arthur's—this is signed Matthew Francis, addressed to Arthur—I thought that was Bray's writing, bat I won't be certain—it is very much the same—it is written with a much better pen—all these letters (looking at several) are in Bray's writing, except this, and that I won't be certain of; I think not—the dates and the word "copy" are in Arthur's writing—I called at Messrs. Waterlow's from time to time for the agreement, but they could not find it.
Cross-examined. Q. With regard to these items, you gave the order for them, did you not? A. I did, for the whole of them—on no one occasion did Mr. Bray accompany me—I was applied to for payment—I declined to pay—I then became a witness against Mr. Bray at the Secondaries Court—I was summoned—I declined to pay because I had not the means; if I had, I was liable equally, I believe—I would have paid if I could, and when I could not I became a witness against Bray—I have been three times insolvent and once a bankrupt—there were not one or two little inquiries about other people's property—there was a little affair at Plymouth—I can hardly tell you what it was—it was repudiated by the Magistrates at once—there was a charge against me about taking some letters or something of that sort, or reading some letters—that was repudiated by the Magistrates, and I was discharged at once—there was not another charge about a coat—nothing further—there was only one charge—there was never any charge in London; nothing about a coat, nor at Plymouth; nothing of the kind—it was some letters that I had lent me to read—I am now a mining agent—I have three or four matters now in negociation.
MR. SERGEANT PARRY. Q. What was this Plymouth business? A. I was taken down there by a gentleman named Ockard—we were to meet together—he took me into his room, he had a quantity of scrip in a mine, and I settled with him for it—he wanted to frighten me out of it, and made a false charge against me of taking some letters out of his room—I don't know whether it was out of a coat or out of his room—the Magistrates never entertained the charge at all.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. You and Arthur lived in the same house, did you not? A. We did, at Dalby-terrace—I did not say when I was examined at the police-court, that I had been charged at that very court about a bill—I never was examined at the Mansion-house—I was examined at Guildhall—I dare say I might have said that I was charged at that very court about a bill—there was one bill charge, but that was repudiated by the Magistrate in the same way, immediately.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. What was that bill? A. A bill drawn by me upon a party for the purpose of carrying out a patent-right—the Magistrate discharged me at once—I lived with Arthur—we more frequently met Bray elsewhere than at Dalby-terrace, but he came there once or twice, and
has dined with me—he knew of our living there together—Bray never accompanied me to Waterlow's—I had nothing to do with the copper mine—I got the reports lithographed and gave them to Mr. Bray—I had nothing to do with the Horse Island Mine, nor had Arthur—the reports that were lithographed were given by me to Bray—the reports upon this mine were received by Bray from me—he knew that I was getting these things done for him at Waterlow's, they hating known me there—these reports that have been put in, one with Bray's signature on it, are copies of the reports that I gave from time to time to Bray.
JOHN WILLIAM NEALE . I am a working engineer, at 13, Palace New-road, Lambeth—I have been acquainted with the prisoner since 1842, during that time I have had considerable correspondence with him—I have seen him write very frequently—the signature of "William Bray" to this agreement is in his writing, and also the signature to the duplicate agreement—the signatures on these reports are in his writing—these letters (produced) are his writing—I introduced Crane to the prisoner in the year 1858—I also introduced Arthur to the prisoner—Arthur is dead—I introduced him about the same time—it was some time in the beginning of 1858, in April, and the early part of May, 1858—I frequently saw the prisoner—I was often with them at that time; with all three, the prisoner, Crane, and Arthur—they were in conversation about the mine when I saw them—they were talking it over about sending some letters to Mr. Chambers, and one thing and another, about the Haford Mine—the prisoner afterwards told me that he had signed the agreement, and that he intended to get it stamped—he said the agreement was between Arthur, Crane, and himself—he said he had signed the agreement between Arthur, Crane, and himself, and that he was going to send it to get it stamped—he did not tell me where he was going to send it to get it stamped, but he told me a few days afterwards that it had been stamped—the prisoner was not a member of the Institute of Civil Engineers—I never heard him say that he was—when I first knew him he was looking after a furnace belonging to Messrs. Mitchell, at a place called Pencoid—he was a workman there—he left there some time afterwards; before I did; it was not so much as a year before—I don't know what he did for some time after that, but in 1845 or 1846 he was at Mullens' works at Battersea—he was an assayer in their employment—I believed he remained there till 1847, or thereabouts—he then went to South America—I did not follow him there—it must have been nearly two years afterwards that I saw him again—he was then looking out for another situation—he got another situation, somewhere in the same quarter, to go out to South America—he was sent out by Messrs. Powles—he went out for them—I corresponded with him, and had some letters from him when he was abroad—this letter of 26th April, 1858, (produced) is the prisoner's writing—it was sent to me—(This letter wot read in part; is related to some other property, and contained this postage, "You had better write to Mr. Lampart to get the things copied at Waterlow's, or somewhere, and tend to me")—I never knew the prisoner by the name of William Bayley Bray, merely as William Bray.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you been assisting in getting up this case at all? A. No; I have not been employed in any way in getting witnesses or procuring evidence—I am quite sure about that—I and the prisoner have not had any quarrel of any great consequence—we had some few words—that was before he signed this agreement—I introduced him to Crane because he was in want of something to do—I have made a mistake—I
ought to have said that we did not fall out till I introduced him to Crane—I am not sure when I fell out with him; I can't say exactly; it was some time after the signatures; it might be about a month after—it was in the month of May—I will swear it was in May that I quarrelled with him—he accused me of going behind his back to do him some injury, and I repudiated it, and I would not have anything more to say to him—we have never been friends since—it was some time in the beginning of May that the conversation took place when he admitted that he had signed the agreement—the agreement was signed on 30th April—it was some time after that we had the conversation—it might have been in May; about the end of May; I don't know; I can't say exactly to a day—I can't give you an idea—the man that heard it if dead—it was not Arthur—it was a person named Higgins, a mining captain—the conversation got up by Bray accusing me of going behind his back—it was not at the time of the quarrel that he told me about the agreement; it was before that—I did not say just now that it was after—it was before the quarrel that he admitted he had signed the agreement; about a month before—the quarrel was in May—he told me in May that he should have the agreement stamped, and he told me afterwards that it was stamped—that was a few days afterwards—the quarrel was at the latter end of May; somewhere thereabouts.
AUGUSTUS FRANK SHEPHERD . I am a solicitor, of 38, Moorgate-street—I know the prisoner—I have had occasion in my profession to employ him—I employed him in 1859 to inspect a mine—in the course of my acquaintance with him I became acquainted with his handwriting—I should say the signature to this agreement was his; to both of them.
EZRA LIVERMORE . I am one of the cashiers of the London and County Bank—the prisoner had an account there, not in his individual capacity, but as a director of a mining company who banked with us—he had an account upon which he drew, and for which he signed his name—I have become acquainted with his handwriting in that way—I believe the signature, "William Bray," to this first agreement to be his writing, and to the other also—I believe them both to be in his handwriting, with this exception, that he signed his name "William B. Bray" in the specimen that we have.
COURT. Q. How long has he had an account with you? A. The company's account was opened some time in May, this year.
WILLIAM ANSELL DAY . In 1858 I was a member of the firm of Le Bland, Day & Co.—I do not produce these two letters dated 30 April and 1 May—I have not seen these letters since the year 1858—I believe these are the original letters that were then addressed to my firm; I see they are endorsed by a clerk whose duty it was to endorse them—our firm was at that time taking an interest in this matter—I know by this endorsement that they have been in the hands of our firm—I saw the prisoner I think two or three times upon it; I also saw Crane; I think the prisoner accompanied both Crane and Arthur—I had conversation with the prisoner, I think twice, about the mine—I cannot tell you what the conversation was—I have not a sufficiently distinct recollection to do so, but my belief is that no statement was made by him that he was personally interested in the matter, because I think he was introduced to me as the surveyor, but I believed from the general tenor of the conversation that he was personally interested in the matter.
CHARLOTTE MAJOR . I am a widow, living at Newton Abbotts—in 1858 I kept an inn there, called Major's Commercial Hotel—I knew Mr. John Arthur, who is since dead; he was staying at that hotel, and left the day
before Christmas-day, 1858—I believe he died in April, 1859—when he left he left a box behind him, as he did not pay his account—I afterwards showed that box to Mr. Rees, I saw him open it; it was then in the same state as when I received it from Arthur—Arthur left on 27th April, and returned about the 9th or 10th May.
CHARLES REES . I am managing clerk to Messrs. Francis and Baker, solicitors, at Newton Abbotts, who were instructed to act as agents there for Mr. Gant—I went as their clerk, and opened a box that was produced to me by Mrs. Major; that was about October, 1861—in that box I found this duplicate agreement; this letter of 11th May, and the draft letters that have been produced; a large number of letters on the same subject partly from Arthur to Mr. Chambers, and partly from Crane to Chambers—I was familiar with Arthur before his death; I knew his handwriting well—this is his writing on both these agreements.
WILLIAM CHAMBERS . I am owner of a good deal of property in Cardiganshire, and mining property amongst others—I have known Bray some time—I first knew him in Cornwall at the Pencoid works; he had something to do with desilverizing lead—I never knew him as a civil engineer—on one occasion, in 1855, he went down with me to inspect the Haford property when I purchased it—he then made some inspection of the mine, as much as he could in two or three days—I did not pay him for that service; I believe my solicitor did—I probably shall find it in my bill—in April and May, 1858, I was in correspondence with Mr. John Arthur, of Newton Abbotts—I have not got the letters that he wrote to me from time to time, but I have my diary with me that I can refer to—I am aware of the fact that at that time Mr. Arthur was in correspondence with me respecting the Haford mine; it came to nothing—I did not know that Mr. Bray had any interest with Arthur in the mine until some considerable time after we had commenced—he did not make this lithographed report for me—he never made any report for me except what he did in 1855.
Cross-examined. Q. But he surveyed the mine for you? A. He went down with me in 1855 at the request of my solicitor, and he made a report to him, I presume, but not to me; I know nothing of it—Mr. Taylor, of 7, Gray's Inn-square, is my solicitor; he is not here—I suppose a civil engineer, to define him exactly, is a man who belongs to the institution, but I am not sufficiently learned in these matters to tell you—the prisoner behaved perfectly civilly and politely to me, and he surveyed my mine.
CHARLES MANBY . I am a civil engineer—I was honorary secretary to the institution of civil engineers from 1839 to 1860, when I resigned—I know a Mr. William Bailey Bray, who is a member of the institute—the prisoner is not that gentleman—Mr. Bray was alive recently, he left here for New Zealand not long since—I saw him in November, 1861—I cannot say exactly how long he remained in England then, but I should think more than a twelvemonth—in November, 1861, he had been in England for several months—I can't say whether or not he was in England in June, 1862; I think not—I know that gentleman—I can tell by reference to the register when he became a member (referring to it).
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Are these your entries? A. This particular one, in reference to Mr. William Bailey Bray, happens to be in my handwriting, the transfer—I get this from the institution of civil engineers—we have two processes; when a young man enters he frequently enters as a graduate or associate, which is then transferred by an act of the council to membership of the institution; there must then be two documents, both of
which I have before me—this is the original document signed by the chairman—the original filling up of the portion which it is the duty of the secretary to do, is in my handwriting.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Is that a book which, in the course of your duties as secretary, you would use from day to day? A. Yes, every meeting day I had it in my hand, and looked at it—Mr. William Bailey Bray, when a pupil at 23, Great George-street, Westminster, was elected an associate on 25th January, 1836, and was then transferred by the council to be a member on 18th February, 1845—persons who become members sign a book; they are obliged to sign a document which is sent to them for their signature before they can be balloted for, it is returned to the secretary and registered—the prisoner was not either an associate or a member of the institution from 1836 to 1860—I saw the prisoner about this matter—I did not go on purpose to see him, but having to make inquiries for a friend about a mining speculation at Gresham house, on one day, with a clerk of mine, I thought I would go and see the Mr. Bray who signed himself a member of the institution—I did so, and saw the prisoner; it was on 27th June, 1860—my clerk made this entry of it at the time (referring)—I saw the prisoner at the office of the Imperial Thessalian Company—I made inquiries about that company, and he told me it was wound up—I asked him if he was Mr. William Bailey Bray, a member of the institution; he said he was—I said, "You are making a mistake, you are not our Mr. William Bailey Bray"—he turned on his heel, said the company was wound up, and walked away—the president has no power whatever to make a member; the only mode is by election in the general body as a graduate, associate, or member, except for transfer, which is in the bosom of the council—I told the prisoner who I was; I said, "I am secretary of the institution of civil engineers, and you do not belong to it; you are not that Mr. William Bailey Bray."
Cross-examined. Q. Do not a great number of persons practise as civil engineers, and call themselves civil engineers, who are not members of the institute? A. A great many, and men in a certain sort of position—it is not considered essential to be a member of the institute, it is quite voluntary—it is considered advantageous to a man in the profession to be a member of the institute; it implies that he has gone through a certain education.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. What is the standing necessary to become a member of the institution? A. That he shall have been regularly educated according to the rules of pupilage with a civil engineer, or a mechanical engineer, and shall have practised and held a position as resident engineer on works upwards of five years, or been in business on his own account, holding responsible work, and having the responsibility of works for five years—all the great engineers have not belonged to the institute.
The following postage was read firm a letter, dated 26th April, 1858:—"I cannot go to Mr. Robert Stephenson without papers or any authority, and to do this, as well as to open the matter in Newcastle, some understanding should be come to how I am to be paid, for it is no trifle to bring this business before the Institute of Civil Engineers."
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE submitted that there was a material variance between the evidence and the allegation in the indictment; the averment was that the action before Mr. Justice Mellor was then and there duly tried by a jury, whereas from the proof it appeared that the then plaintiff elected to be nonsuited, so that the case being withdrawn from the Jury, was not in reality duly tried by than; upon this, two questions would arise; first, whether it was an immaterial
allegation which could be rejected at surplusage, and secondly, whether it could be amended. As to the first point, he apprehended that it could not be rejected at surplusage; a similar point had recently arisen in the Court of Appeal, not yet reported, and he urged that the point should be reserved; with regard to the second question, no doubt under 14 & 15 Vic. c. 100, the Court had very extensive powers of amendment, but those powers could not be exercised upon a matter calculated to prejudice the defendant in the smallest degree; he was not aware of any instance of an indictment for perjury on a case ending in a nonsuit; indeed it might be urged that so long at a man was under examination, and his suit was pending, there was a locus pœnitentice, if instead of going on to the end of his examination he withdrew from the case, the suit would be incomplete, and matter might have been introduced which would have had an effect upon the suit; supposing perjury could not be assigned in a matter in which a person had himself withdrawn the case, then the allegation became material, because if the allegation was properly made, and the plaintiff was therein nonsuited, the defendant would him the opportunity, which he now had not, of demurring to the indictment, and of raising the question in point of law as to whether or not an indictment could be preferred for perjury where a nonsuit had taken place; for these reasons he submitted that the variance could not be cured.
THE RECORDER had not the slightest doubt that an indictment could be sustained in the case of a nonsuit, as well as in any other; the point was whether the earn was duly tried, whether the trial wot complete until the verdict was given.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY contended that there was nothing in the objection: he called the attention of the Court to the wording of the postea, from which it was dear that a trial had duly taken place, although the jury were not called upon to give a verdict; and as to an amendment of the allegation, he preferred to stand by the indictment as it was.
MR. METCALFE was heard on the time side, and MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE in reply.
THE RECORDER stated that the inclination of his opinion at present was that the averment was good, but he would consult one of the learned judges on the subject.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of his good character.
Confined Twelve Months.
The point was not reserved.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
3. ROBERT SHIPP (23) , Embezzling and stealing the sums of 1l. 18s., 1l. 2s., and 1l. 6s, the moneys of George Rooke, his master; also, stealing other sums and various articles of his said master; to all of which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
NEW COURT.—Monday, November 24th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. GIBBONS and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
8. JOHN DAMPIER (18) , Stealing 8 pieces of soap, 16 bottles, and other articles, the property of Frederick John Cleaver and another, his masters; also, stealing 72 shirts, value 18l., the property of John Porter Foster and others, in their dwelling-house; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY .†— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor.
Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .*— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH ANN WHITTAKER . My husband is a pork-butcher, at Queen's-road, Chelsea—on 29th October, about half-past 5 in the afternoon, the prisoner came for a quarter of a pound of boiled beef, which came to 2 1/2 d.—he gave me half a crown—I asked him if it was good—he said, "Yes"—I tried it, and it bent—I said it was not good and gave it to my husband, who asked him where he got it, and he said, at his barrow, and that he lived at Chelsea—my husband sent for a policeman—the prisoner tried to get away—my husband tried to stop him, but he threw my husband into the road, and ran a long way down two or three streets.
JAMES WHITTAKER . I came into my shop and inquired of the prisoner where he got the half-crown from—he said at his barrow—I asked him where his barrow was, and he said, "At home"—I sent for a policeman—the prisoner and I had a tustle, and he threw me down—I pursued him, and saw him taken by a policeman—I was too excited to notice what the prisoner said.
PETER SMITH (Policeman, B 163). I took the prisoner, and Mr. Whittaker gave me this half-crown (produced)—the prisoner said, "If you do not give me in custody I will paas no more on you—I took him to the shop and he was identified—he said, "If you charge me I will do for you"—I said, "He is too well known to do you any harm"—I told him if he was violent I would knock him down, and he came quietly—I have known him for a long period—he gave his address, 9, New Grosvenor-place—I went there, but he did not live there.
He was further charged with having been before convicted of a like offence in October, 1861, when he was sentenced to Nine Months' imprisonment, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRANNAN . I am specially employed by the Mint—I received information which led me to go to 13, Princes-street, Whitechapel, on 27th October—I found the street-door open, proceeded to the first-floor front room, the door of which was broken open by Inspector Brannan and Serjeant Elliott—I rushed in and saw the three prisoners sitting by a clear fire—they all sat close to a table, and Brown was in his shirt-sleeves, with a pipkin in his hand, which he placed on the table—he rushed towards the officers to prevent their getting near the table—he was seized and secured—Caroline Bower then picked up the pipkin and placed it in the fender-—Salter had something in her hand, which she wrapped up in this canvass cloth, and placed it on the bed—Serjeant Leather seized her, pulled her towards the bed, and said, "There is something hot here"—I opened it—it contained a perfect mould for casting sixpences, which was hot—I then went towards the fire, and inside the fender I found this pipkin containing a small portion of white metal, hot, and a get, which I believe was that of a sixpence, also hot—the get is the refused metal poured into the mould in its state of fusion, it is the overplus—close to it I found a warm sixpence, bearing the same date as the mould, and on a shelf in the cupboard, near where Salter sat, I found six counterfeit sixpences bearing the same date—there was also a glass with plaster of Paris adhering to it, and a cloth pad which was warm, two pieces of a new metal spoon, a cup and saucer, and some sand and water—Samuel Bower then said, "I do not live in this room, I live in the next"—I said, "We shall see presently, do not be violent"—he was very violent—I went to the next room, and Fife brought him in, and under the grate Fife found these fragments of a mould (produced)—I also found a file with white metal in its teeth—Salter was brought into the room, and she said, "Mr. Brannan, I was making the last time you came; but so help me God, I was not making this time"—I said, "Why you have not been long out"—she said "It was six months on Tuesday"—I said, "I regret to find that you have mixed with your old associates again," and then she made the observation I have mentioned—I believe the two Bowers to be man and wife—I saw one of the witnesses to the marriage, and I have got the certificate here.
ARTHUR ELLIOTT (Police-sergeant, 13 G). I accompanied the other officers and assisted in breaking the door—I was one of the first in the room, and saw the male prisoner with a pipkin in his hand, sitting by the fire—he immediately put it down inside the fender, rushed at me, and caught me by the throat—I took fourteen counterfeit sixpences off the table—I found in a cupboard in the room this mould for casting shillings, it has the appearance of having been used—there was also a plate with liquid in it, a piece of wire, two cups with sand, and two basins.
THOMAS LEATHER (Police-sergeant, G 6). I took Salter, she had something white in her hand when I went in, which she threw on the bed, after wrapping it up in a cloth—I found it was hot, and gave it to Mr. Brannan—
it contained a plaster of Paris mould for casting sixpences—Caroline Bower had the file in her hand.
JAMES BRANNAN , jun. (Policeman). I was with the other officers—before the prisoners left the room they took their hats and bonnets off the same bed, and the man took his coat from there as well—Caroline Bower was crying, and Samuel Bower said, "Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear, you will only make me fret, I will take it all upon myself; I dare say I shall get four years for it"
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These articles are all used in making counterfeit coin—here is a perfect mould for sixpences of 1831—these sixpences are all counterfeit, and all made from this mould—here is a pipkin to melt the metal in, and plaster of Paris, and a glass—spoons are melted when they cannot get pewter pots—this file is to remove any imperfections where the get is broken off, and here is sand for scouring them—this wire and plate are used as a battery—the mould for shillings has been used, and a mould for sixpences was thrown into the fire, so they must have been working.
Samuel Bower's Defence. I was in my room with my wife, and the young man in the adjoining room called out, "Samuel, do you mind coming in and having some tea with us?" I went in, and my wife followed me, leaving our room door open. Having my coat and cap on, I took them off and threw them on the bed, and took a seat at the table, where the things were set for tea. The young man who was with Salter went down stairs, saying he must go to a shop and pay what he owed. Hearing somebody come up, I went to open the door, thinking it was him, and the officers came in upon me. I am innocent.
Salter's Defence. On Friday morning, about 11 o'clock, the young man brought up his things and commenced making; he continued till Monday afternoon, when he said that he was going down stairs to get half a gallon of beer, and pay a debt that he owed, and he appears to have given Mr. Brannan information that it was us. The things were found in my room, but I am not guilty of making them.
CAROLINE BOWER— NOT GUILTY .
SAMUEL BOWER* and SALTER†*— GUILTY .— Six Years each in Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH DINAH STRICKLAND . I am shopwoman at a confectioner's, 112A, High Holborn—on 17th October, about 12 o'clock, the prisoner came and took some stale pastry off the board—I said, "You have got three half-pennyworth there"—he took a pennyworth, gave me a penny and left—he came the same evening for a penny saussage-roll, and gave me half a crown—I gave him change, and when he got to the door I bit the half-crown, and my sister looked at it—the prisoner had then left—I put it by itself in the corner of the till—I described to my sister the person who gave it to me, and on 20th October, about 12 o'clock, she called me into the shop from the kitchen, and I found the prisoner there—I said, "You came in and passed me a bad half-crown on Friday night"—he said, "I did not"—I said, "You did"—my sister said, "Here is another; lock him up"—he tried to get away, but we detained him, and gave him into custody, with the two bad half-crowns.
Prisoner. It was not me. Witness. I am sure you are the man; you were dressed the same as you are now.
EMMA DUNCAN . On 17th October my sister showed me a half-crown—I pronounced it counterfeit, and she put it aside—she described the person from whom she had received it, and on the Monday following the prisoner came for two buns, which came to twopence—he tendered a bad half-crown, and I called my sister—I had hold of the prisoner, and she said, "That is the man who gave me the bad half-crown on Friday"—he said that he was innocent—he had tried to get away before I laid hold of him, and before I told him it was bad—I had not given him his change—I gave him in custody with the two half-crowns.
Prisoner's Defence. The day she represents that I was in her shop, I was in bed, as three persons can testify; my father and mother, and Mr. Sullivan. On the second occasion I tried to run away, when she had suspicion; but I did not know it was bad.
The prisoner called
MARGARET WIGZELL . The prisoner is my son—he was at home from 10 o'clock on Friday morning till Saturday morning—I cannot say the day of the month, but it was the day that it was represented that he was in the shop and passed the money—he was taken on the Monday following.
Cross-examined by MR. COOKE. Q. Where do you live? A. At 45, Woman-street, Gray's Inn-lane—the prisoner has been in the coal mines in Wales five months, and has only been home a fortnight—he was not brought up to any trade—my husband is a bricklayer, he is the prisoner's step-father—the prisoner is home from Wales doing nothing—he brought money home to support him—he came home, and a man in the house mended his boots—he had no boots to put on and could not get out—I only occupy one room, that is where he was from 10 that morning till 10 the next morning—I have never been in trouble about coin, I do not know what it is—I do not know a person named Brannan.
JURY. Q. Were you in the house all day? A. Yes; and the parish doctor, who was attending me, came and saw him there, I do not know his name—Sullivan is the name of the man who mended the boots—I was bad with erysipelas at the time.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
HARRIET ELIZABETH SAUNDERS . My husband keeps a butcher's shop at Poplar—on 21st October, about a quarter to 12 o'clock, the prisoner came and asked for a very nice steak—it came to 4 1/2 d.—he gave me a half-crown—I bent it, and found it was bad—he tried to put it in the detector, saying that I was very much stronger than he was—I said, "It does not require much strength to do that"—he took the bad one back and gave me a good one—I gave him change, and he left—I recognised him that evening at the station.
I served the prisoner with half a pound of steak, which came to 4d.—he gave me half a crown, and not liking the look of it gave it to my shop boy to be examined next door—he gave it back to the prisoner, and said it was bad—the prisoner put it in his pocket, and asked me if I could change a sovereign, but I declined—he put down the meat and went away—I saw him that evening in the station-house.
WILLIAM BUSHNELL . Mrs. Harmer gave me a half-crown—I took it to Mr. Ockenden, next door, found it was bad, brought it back and gave it to the prisoner—I afterwards saw him go into Mr. Ockenden's, whom I told, in the prisoner's presence, that he had passed a bad half-crown at my master's shop—I fetched a constable.
JOHN OCKENDEN . I live next door to Mr. Harmer, and am a boot-maker—Bushnell showed me a half-crown—I found it was bad, and marked it with my teeth—shortly afterwards the prisoner came in and asked me to change a sovereign—the boy followed him in and told me what he had been doing at his master's—I gave him the change and did not detain him, but Hudson and Mr. Harmer followed, and sent the boy for the police—after that the prisoner took a half-crown from his waistcoat pocket, and put it behind him in his hand—the constable searched him and found it up his sleeve—it was the same half-crown which I had marked a few minutes before.
JOSEPH HUDSON . On 21st October, I saw the prisoner hanging about outside Mr. Harmer's shop—he took something out of his pocket-book, or purse, wrapped it up in a bit of paper, and put it in the yard wall adjoining the shop—he then went into Mr. Harmer's, and also into Mr. Ockenden's—I then went to the wall, called a witness before I touched it, and then found a bad half-crown wrapped up in a piece of paper—I gave it to the constable in the shop, and told him in the prisoner's presence that I had found it on the wall, and saw the prisoner put it there—the prisoner said nothing to that.
(Policeman, K 493). I found the prisoner and Mr. Harmer in Mr. Ockenden's shop—the prisoner was charged with pawing a bad half-crown—I asked him for it—he remained silent, and I searched him, and found the bad half-crown in his coat sleeve—I asked him his address, and he said that it was not requisite—Mr. Hudson gave me a second half-crown—I found on the prisoner 1l. 1s. 4d., as he had the change which the boot-maker had given him.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD WILTON . I am a butcher, of Russet-place, New North-road, near to my brother-in-law, Mr. Clark—the prisoner bought a pound and a half of pieces at my shop, which came to 10 1/2 d., and gave me a five-shilling piece—I passed it through a little window to my brother-in-law, who was in the parlour—he gave her the change, and she left the shop—he afterwards showed it me, and it was bad—we ran after the prisoner three or four minutes after she left, but she had gone—I gave the crown to the constable on the 25th.
PENDAR CLARK . I am a butcher at Shepperton-place—on 9th October I was in my brother's parlour, and he gave me a crown-the prisoner came to the window, and I gave her the change—immediately she was gone I discovered that it was bad, and ran out, but she was out of sight—only three or four minutes had elapsed, but there are turnings both ways—she must have walked fast to get round either turning—on 25th October she came to my shop for some small pieces of mutton—I
knew her instantly—she gave me a crown, whichh I immediately saw was bad—I struck it with my chopper, and said, "What, have you come here again so soon?"—she said that she had never been there before—I said that she had been to my brother-in-law's, and gave her in custody with the crown.
Prisoner. You took the money, and said, "Wait a minute," and went into the parlour for twenty minutes, where there was no light. Witness. That is not true; I told you that it was bad before my brother-in-law came—I knew you instantly, but I detected the crown before I saw you.
ANTONY RYE . (Policeman, N 514). On 25th October I was sent for to Mr. Clark's shop, and the prisoner was given into my custody—I received a crown from Mr. Clark, and another from Mr. Wilton, whose shop is about eighty yards from Mr. Clark's—I found nothing on her.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM POUND . I am manager of the Admiral beer-shop, Bromley—the prisoner came there for a pot of beer, which came to threepence, and gave me a florin—I had to send my wife upstairs for change, which made me notice it—I gave the prisoner the change, and she left—she returned in about twenty-five minutes for another pot of beer, and gave me another florin—I gave her the ohange as I was very busy—after she left I noticed that the florin was bad, and put it on one side, thinking she might come again, as I knew where she lived—the came again about half-past 9 for a pot and a half of beer, and put down another bad florin—I bent it, and told her I had another to match it, besides another somewhere else—she said, "Oh! are they bad? a party came over to see me, Mrs. Cook, of 2, Long-lane, Borough, who keeps a tobacconist's shop, and gave them to me"—I gave her in charge with the two florins—my wife detected the first florin in counting the money—the prisoner was a customer; but I have only been there a little time—she had never offered me bad money before.
ANN POUND . I am the wife of the last witness, and assist him in the business—on 12th November the prisoner came about half-past 7 in the evening, and my husband gave me a bad florin—I put it in the silver bag while the prisoner was standing at the bar, and gave him sixpences for it—there was no other florin in the bag, or put into it that night—I counted the silver when we closed the shop, and found a bad florin—the prisoner was in the habit of coming sometimes twice in the morning, and twice or three times at night.
Prisoner. I brought you the money, but I never knew it was bad. Witness. I really do not believe she knew it was bad.
JOHN HILL (Policeman, K 389). The prisoner was given into my charge with these three florins—she said that she got them from Mrs. Cook, who was staying at their house, 10, Wellington-street—two officers went there—she said that Mrs. Cook lived at 2, Bermondsey-street, Long-lane, Borough—I went there, but was not able to find any person of that name there—two half-crowns were found on the prisoner.
Prisoner. It is the other side of London-bridge. Witness. The daughter told me afterwards that it was 2, Bermondsey-street, which is a bootmaker's shop—I could find no Mrs. Cook there, and I could not find 2, Long-lane—there is a police station in Bermondsey-street—I went there, and they did not know Mrs. Cook.
Prisoner. I asked the prosecutor to go with me, but he would not—the direction Mrs. Cook gave my daughter was Long-lane—I had not teen her for six months.
Prisoner's Defence. Mrs. Cook was quite intimate with my daughter. I had not seen her for six months. She asked my daughter to have a glass of beer, asked me to fetch it, and gave me the money. I new looked at it, and did not know whether it was good or bad. She afterwards asked me to fetch another pot of beer, and gave me another florin; and then she said, "Bring the jug full," and I did so. I threw the money on the counter, and it was bad.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, November 28th, 1862.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
TIMOTHY MURPHY . I was in Hyde-park on 5th October, between half-past 4 and 5 o'clock—there was a great crowd near the mound—I had been on the mound about an hour before, but I was at the bottom of it when this happened—there were shouts of "Down with Garibaldi, and up with the Pope," and others said, "Down with the Pope, and up with Garibaldi"—I found myself stabbed in my hip, and then saw the prisoner for the first time standing by my side, in a stooping position with a knife in his hand, attempting to stab another man, but whether he stabbed him or not, I do not know—I called out, "Knife, I am stabbed," and was carried to the hospital—I did not see the prisoner taken, but am sure he is the man—I saw him on the Monday week afterwards, at Marlborough-street police-court, and recognised him immediately—I was eleven days in the hospital, and am an out-patient still—the wound is not well yet.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Were there a great number of people? A. Several thousand—they were shouting, pushing, fighting, and wrestling, but there was no fighting at the time I was stabbed—I took no part; I was only looking on—I was there an hour and a half or three-quarters before this happened—some of them were using shilleighlies, and some of the soldiers were running up and down the mound, and knocking everything before them—I was pushed about, the same as everybody else; they sometimes carried me off my feet—I was in the midst of the crowd when I was stabbed—the people composing the crowd were still shouting, "Up with the Pope, and down with Garibaldi"—I was taken from the hospital to the police-court and brought back again—I recognised the prisoner immediately—I had given a description of him—the policeman said the man he had in custody looked like a foreigner, but he did not say what sort of man he was—I had previously said that he looked like a foreigner—I told the policeman that the man had a slight moustache all round his mouth, and a little thicker on his chin—I have seen hundreds and thousands of such persons,
but not exactly the same—the mound was alternately held by one party and retaken by the other—I was for my own religion, I was for the Pope—I shouted pretty lustily, "Up with the Pope, and down with Garibaldi," but not at that time.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You do not intend to support the Pope any more? A. No, I shall support neither next time.
ALBERT ROSE WARDLE . I was in Hyde-park on 5th October, and saw Murphy there, and the prisoner, who made a start into the crowd with a knife in his hand, six or seven inches long, like a shoemaker's knife—he was in a stooping position, and made a run like this—somebody called out "Knife," and then I saw him make a lunge, and heard somebody call out, "Oh, my God, I am stabbed!"—I then looked to my left, and saw him stooping down with the knife, with the point upwards—he was working his elbows to make room before he made the run—I received an injury on the outside of my left thigh, and kept my hand on the prisoner's shoulder till I gave him in charge—I am positive he is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you an adherent of the Pope? A. No, for neither; and if Mr. Garibaldi ever comes to this country I will not go to see him—there was not a great deal of noise and fighting and confusion at that time; but a few minutes before there was a cry of "Up with Garibaldi, and down with the Pope"—it was all quiet at the time of the cry of knife, knife—the crowd was not very dense where the prosecutor was—there might have been three or four people in front of the mound, which was then in the possession of the Garibaldians, I suppose, because there were some soldiers upon it—this was not exactly at the foot of the mound, but between the middle and the near end of the Wellington statue—I cannot say whether I was between the contending parties—I was standing with both hands in my pockets—I was present when the prisoner was taken, and gave him in custody myself—I did not observe that he was bleeding.
RICHARD BRAY (Policeman, A 606). On 5th October I was in Hyde-park about 5 o'clock, and heard a cry of "Mind the knife"—I ran to the spot, and heard Wardle say, "Take this man in custody; I am stabbed," pointing to the prisoner, who was three or four feet from him—I took him—I did not see Murphy till next day—the prisoner was trying to force his way through the people—I caught hold of him from behind with both arms—he had a very slight cut on his left hand, but it was bleeding very much—he said that he did it in trying to take a knife away from a countryman—I took him to the station, and Murphy identified him a week afterwards—the broken knife was given to me next morning by a brother officer, and this other (produced) is a similar knife.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you there during the hour previous? A. Yes; about a dozen yards from the spot whence the cry of knife proceeded—the pressure of the crowd was very great at the time I rushed up; it was not so noisy as it had been, but there was still great confusion—I did not see the knife in his hand—he said that he got the cut in taking a knife, which a countryman had in his hand, to prevent his using it.
HENRY DELLAWAY . On 5th October I was in Hyde-park; and after 4 o'clock, but rather before 5, I was on the mound among the fighting—I jumped off near to this knife, which I picked up, and showed to a man, who took it from me, but I would not lose sight of it, and saw him give it to a policeman—I believe this to be the handle of it—it was perfect then, and I have every reason to believe it was slightly smeared with blood—I returned to the mound, and in a few minutes I heard of persons being wounded.
WILLIAM HOPE . I am house surgeon at St. George's Hospital—on 5th October, about 5 o'clock, two men were brought there—Murphy was one—he had a wound a little above the right hip, hardly an inch deep, and hardly that in length—it was such a wound as might have been inflicted by this knife—he was under my care a little more than a week, and is still an out-patient.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. He received a good character.
Four Years' Penal Servitude.
There was another indictment against the prisoner for stabbing Wardle.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Three Months.
THOMAS HANDS . I am a biscuit-maker, of 88, Wheeler-street, Spitalfields—on 3d November, at half-past 8, I saw my premises secured, and went to bed—about 3 o'clock, or a quarter-past, I heard a noise at the shutters, but did not pay attention to it, being a market street—a constable soon came, and I got out of bed to answer him—I then saw that the shatters had been opened, and the window raised—I missed these articles (produced)—they are my property, and were safe on the table when I went to bed—I had fastened the shutters the night before; but the bolt does not go far into the socket, so I have a string to it, and fasten it to the window.
ABRAHAM EVEREST (Policeman). About 3 o'clock on the morning of 4th November, I saw the prisoner go, with a female, from 88, Wheeler-street, where the prosecutor lives—I examined the shutters, and found them broken, and the window open—I awoke the prosecutor, who said that it was all right; but he afterwards missed these things—I then went to the prisoner's room, 9, Fleur-de-lis-street, Spitalfields, and found him there, and the things in the room—it was then 4 o'clock.
Prisoner. Q. Can you swear that I rent the room? A. I cannot; but I know the girl you live with, and I know you very well—I have seen you go into the room before, and have seen you looking out at the window, smoking your pipe.
Prisoner's Defence. I left home at about half-past 5, to go to the Pavilion Theatre, with 8s. in my pocket; I met the young girl whom I used to live with eight months ago, and went home with her; a person came there with these things, and I bought them for 1s. 6d.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted, in April, 1862; to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. WHARTON conducted the Prosecution.
ISAAC GOODWIN . I am a horse-dealer, and keep the Blue Anchor, at Whetstone, which is about 200 yards from my stable—on Saturday, 25th October, I had a dark brown gelding, about fifteen hands high, locked in the stable with this padlock, which I saw broken at half-past 7, and the gelding was then gone—I saw it again between 11 and 12 that night—a man very much like the prisoner had a pint of beer at my house about 6 o'clock, and remained about twenty minutes.
Prisoner. Q. What kind of a night was it? A. Rather dark, and it rained a little—I do not know that it rained all night, or that it rained in the morning—it was not particularly windy—the stable is about twenty yards from the high raid—it is 400 or 500 yards from my house—there are plenty of ways of going to Barnet, from Barnet-hill, without going through the toll-gate; they could go through Totteridge or Cockfosters—the toll-gate is not one where they ask for payment—the horse was very fresh—it is not quite two miles by the toll-gate from my house to Barnet, and not quite three miles going round the other way—the horse could go three miles in lees than a quarter of a hour—it would be a mile out of the way to go round by the railway station—Barnet-hill is this side of Barnet.
JOHN ATKINS . I live at 6, Wigford-place, City-road, and am a cigar manufacturer—on 25th October, about a quarter past 7, I was driving down Barnet-hill, about a mile and a half from the prosecutor's house, and saw a man on horseback coming towards me—he attempted to pass me on the near side, but the horse shied at my lamps, threw him off, and ran away down the hill—I pulled up to give him the benefit of my lamps, and he got up and ran after the horse—my lamps showed a good light—the man was dressed in a frock coat and dark clothes; he had no hat or cap—I am sure the prisoner is the man—it was a dark-brown hone about fifteen hands high—the man had not the appearance of a groom.
Prisoner. Q. Do you deal with Mr. Goodwin? A. Yes—I believe it had been raining during the day; I do not think it was raining at the time—it was dark; it was not windy—I met you about a mile from Totteridge—there is a great deal of grass land about there—you had no saddle or cloths on the horse—you had a halter by which I saw you leading the horse after you were thrown off—you looked me in the face—I had never seen you before—I did not speak to you—I pulled up because I thought you were hurt, but I did not see you halt as you passed—I did not see you again for a fortnight; but I can swear to you, because I went to Mr. Goodwin's and described you—he did not tell me that the horse was fifteen hands high—I next saw you in a railway carriage coming down to Barnet—I was not told to look at you, but I spoke to the policeman who had you in custody—I had never seen him before—he asked me if my name was Atkins—he did not ask me if I knew you—I picked you out of a number of people—I am not mistaken in you.
THOMAS ROGERS . I am a brickmaker, of Hadley—on Saturday evening 25th October, about 10 minutes to 8, I met the prisoner on a dark-brown horse—I am sure he is the man—he asked me if I could tell him where he could buy a hat or a cap—he had nothing on his head—I told him he could not buy one there; he must go back to Barnet—that was about two miles from the prosecutor's house—the horse had a hemp halter on; a bit of rope—it was a misty night, but there was a light from the gas at a confectioner's shop—the prisoner said, "Cannot I get one at Hadley?"—I said, "No"—he still kept on the road, and turned out of the north road towards Hadley Church; going further from the prosecutor's house—I next saw him, a fortnight afterwards, at the police-station, and knew him at once—I am sure he is the man—on Monday, 3d November, I went to a field at Whetstone, and saw four or five horses, out of which I picked out the horse.
Prisoner. Q. How far is it from Barnet-hill to Hadley? A. Three quarters of a mile; it depends upon whereabouts you go in Hadley—you did not meet me on the hill—it was a very misty night—I am positive it was you—the gas in the confectioner's shop was close to the counter—the
shop it on the left-hand side, and you were on the left-hand side of the road with the horse—what made me take so much notice of the horse was, that there was nothing on his head but a halter and a leather rein tied to it—I have mentioned the leather rein before—I cannot tell the height of a man when he is on horseback—directly I got to Barnet, I heard that a horse had been stolen—the policeman asked me if I had met a man; and I described you—I identified you when you were standing in the Court, at Barnet—Mr. Goodwin's brother and the sergeant went with me to the field to select the horse—the sergeant and I stopped on the road and had some refreshment—when I met you on the horse I was so close to you that I could have touched you, and that made me take notice—I looked to see whether it was a horse or a mare—it made a little bit of a pull up when you spoke to me—I cannot say whether it had a white streak down its face, or broken knees, or whether it was broken-winded—I did not run round to see whether it was piebald on the other side—there were no more dark-brown horses in the field—no one told me the colour of the horse.
JOHN BALDEN . I keep a draper's shop at Hadley, which adjoins Barnet—my shop is about two miles from the prosecutor's—on 25th Ootober, about half-past 9, the prisoner came and selected a cap at my shop, which he paid for—this is it (produced)—I am sure it was the prisoner—it was gas light.
Prisoner. Q. Was it wet or fine? A. I do not know; but it was a boisterous night—I did not notice whether your clothes were muddy—if a man was thrown from a horse there would be, probably, marks of mud on his clothes.
Prisoner. Q. Did a man come to the station to identify me? A. Several persons came; one was a butcher—I cannot say whether the inspector asked him whether you were the man; but something like it—I am not certain whether he said you were not the man—he did not say that he could swear to the horse, but not the man—I did not hear the inspector ask him whether you were a little like the man—I was sitting at a desk, writing—I know the man had a doubt—I did not hear him say that he ran up under the light on purpose to look at the man—I have not kept that man back because he would upset all the other evidence—I have not seen him since—I do not recollect saying that his eyes were young, and might have deceived him—I saw a paper in the station which you had written for your defence—I do not know how it was taken from you; I have had nothing to do with it—a copy was taken from it and given to you—I was not in Court when the inspector was censured for taking it from you—I do not know where it is—it has never been in my possession—you asked me to go to the landlord of the Windmill, to know what time you went there for a lodging—I did so, and saw the landlady—she declined coming to the Court, and sent the potman—I sent for Mr. Goldsworthy, where you lodged, and he attended—I did not ask him whether your clothes were muddy—it was a night-duty man who found the hat.
GEORGE MOORE (Policeman, S 378). On 6th October, about 20 minutes to 6, I was on duty on Barnet-hill, and found this hat (produced) in a field by the side of the high road, about two miles from the prosecutor's house, about half a mile from Hadley—it was about ten yards from the road, lying on the embankment—it was very wet.
Prisoner. Q. What kind of a night was it? A. I had been raining all night—it was very windy, and they have it very severely there—there is no protection from the wind but a fence—we do sometimes hear of people losing their hats going up that hill—the hat might have blown twenty or thirty yards—I received notice at a quarter to 12 that it was lost—I did not look for it then because it was dark—I had a lamp—I found the hat at 20 minutes to 6—it might have been lost at 3 o'clock in the morning for what I know.
COURT. Q. Have you fitted it on to the prisoner's head? A. Yes; it fits him very well.
JAMES BRANCHFLOWER . I am in the prosecutor's service—on Saturday evening, 25th October, about 7 o'clock—I put the horse in the stable, and locked it with a padlock resembling this—it was a brown gelding—half an hour afterwards I found the lock broken, the door open, and missed the horse—I went and told my master—he got on a horse and went on the Mimms-road, I got on another, and went on the Halfield-road, and found the hone on Hadley-green—I brought him back and left him at the White Lion on the Mimms-road, and then fetched Mr. Goodwin.
Prisoner. Q. What time did you find the horse? A. About 8 o'clock, half an hour after it was missed—it was on the high road, not on the green, its head was towards Barnet—there are plenty of horses out there at grass, and people who do not want them on Sunday, turn them out—it was not a wet night, but it was very windy, and muddy in some places—the horse had a halter on.
MR. WHARTON. Q. Had it simply a halter? A. A halter and a rein—(produced) this is the halter—I had tied him up with it, but this leather rein was not on him then—it was the horse which I lost that I brought back.
Prisoner. Q. Has your matter got the horse now? A. No; he sold it a week afterwards.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about the subject, and was startled when I was charged with having taken a horse; Mr. Goodwin says that he saw a man similar to me, but he cannot swear to me; it is quite possible that one of the neighbours may have taken the horse out to annoy Mr. Goodwin; I think it very improbable that one man should see another in the road on a dark night, and recognise him in a railway-carriage a fortnight afterwards—if a man is thrown from a horse into a muddy road like Barnet-bill, he would naturally be expected to have mud on his dress; the man goes and identifies the horse two hundred yards off, after only seeing him on a dark night by the light of a baker's shop; he has stretched his imagination, and swore to more than he can know; he is a native of Barnet, and hearing that Mr. Goodwin had lost a horse, might have had some idea of getting work from him; I have not had fair treatment in being brought out of the cell singly to be identified; one man was brought who said that I was not the man; the inspector said, "Turn about;" I did so, and the inspector said, "Is he a little like him? he said, "No; I can swear to the horse, but that is not the man;" I was writing out my defence at Biggieswade, to produce before the Bench next day, and the inspector took it away from me; it has been kept from me and used for the prosecution; the Magistrate at Barnet told me that it was illegal to do so; I was not allowed to write letters to any one to come and defend me; I sent letters from the House of Detention, but they were not taken in, people thought it was a hoax because there was 2d. to pay upon each of them; I lost my hat, but
this hat is not mine; mine has the maker's name, "Avery," in it; there were two people on the hill looking for hats as I came up; I picked up a straw hat belonging to another person, and gave it to him; I am innocent of the whole transaction.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
There was another indictment against the prisoner.
MR. ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN WOOD . I live at 6, Wilburn-terrace, Bermondsey, and am an assistant in the employment of Messrs. Powell, of Newgate-street—on Saturday, 15th November, Darcy came to the warehouse and showed me this order (produced)—he said it was from Messrs. Jamison, of Bond-street—they are customers of ours—Mr. Radmall, one of the partners, came by at the time and saw the order and I gave it to him—I prepared the parcel of cloth, and delivered it to the porter—the prisoner left our warehouse with the porter and the parcel—(order read:) "November, 15th, 1862, please send by bearer six yards of blue pilot, as pattern. Jamison and Forskut, New Bond-street."
THOMAS RADMALL . I am a partner in the firm of Powell and Co.—on Saturday afternoon, 15th November, I was in the warehouse, and saw Darcy there, and saw the order in Mr. Wood's hand and took it from him, and directed the parcel of cloth to be done up and delivered by the porter—there was a pattern fastened to it as it is now—I had seen Darcy before front Messrs. Jamison's, and knew he had been in their service.
WILLIAM LEVER . I am a porter, in the employment of Powell and Co. of Newgate-street—on Saturday, afternoon, 15th November, I took a parcel with me, and accompanied the prisoner Darcy to New Bond-street—when we got just below Brook-street he said, "I shan't be a minute," and ran across the road down a court—I followed him—when he got to the bottom, he turned to the right and there I lost sight of him.
ROBERT JAMISON . I carry on business as a tailor in Bond-street, under the firm of Jamison and Forskut—I know Darcy—he was an errand-boy of ours—he was with us about three months, and left about three months back—this order is not signed by me, or my partner, or by our authority.
EDWARD WHITE (Police-sergeant, D 16). From some information I received from Mr. Jamison, I apprehended Darcy on Saturday evening—I told him I should take him in custody for uttering a forged order for some cloth, purporting to be signed by Jamison and Forskut, of New Bond-street, and also on another charge—he said, "You have made a mistake, Mr. White, I never went for any cloth"—on the way to the station he said, "I did not know it was a forged order; I was sent in by a man who was at the corner of the street, and he promised me half a pint if I would go in with the order"—some short time after he said, "Well, Mr. White, you'll get the other chap; you know him very well—it is a pity I should be let in for it all—his name is George Johnson—he lives at 1, Henry-place—you saw him with me the other night at the station-house"—he particularly wished me to get the other prisoner, as he said he had written the order out for him—I cautioned him when he spoke about Johnson, and said I should
give it all in evidence against him—the next day, Sunday, I went to 1, Henry-place, Westminister—Johnson opened his room door—I told him I had taken Darcy in custody for uttering orders for cloth—he said, "Walk in, Mr. White; don't let everybody hear you"—when I had shut the door he said, "Well, I don't deny"—I then stopped him and said, "Mind, now; you are old enough, and have sense enough to know what you are going to say"—he said, "Well, I don't deny I did write the order"—on the way to the station he said, "Well, I will tell you all about it, Mr. White; Darcy, you know, lived at Jamison's, and he told me he knew of a good thing, and we could get some cloth and sell it, and get some money; he told me I could write out the orders, and the words he told me to put in were, "Please send by bearer so many yards of cloth, as pattern, and I was to sign the name of Jamison and Forskut, of New Bond-street, and I was to write it very plain—I did so, he went in with the order, and I was opposite when he went in—I saw the porter come out with the cloth on his shoulder, and Darcy with him—I followed them up as far as High-street, Bloomsbury, and thinking it was no good, it was all up, I left them—I afterwards met Darcy, and he told me how he had slipped the porter, but it would be all up with him if Mr. White was to know it; the last words I said to him when I parted from him on Saturday night were, not to round upon me if he was taken, and he promised me faithfully he would not do so"—I then took him to the station and charged him—he made no further answer to the charge.
Johnson's statement before the Magistrate was read as follows:—"It was not me that fetched the eight yards of cloth from Powell's."
Darcy's Defence. I was going along the City, and met a man; he said he would give me half a pint if I would take the order in and wait for an answer—I took it in—they sent a man with me, and when I saw it was wrong I ran away—I did not know it was a false order.
George Johnson was further charged with having been before convicted of felony, on 6th January, 1862: to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
DARCY.— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN SHEPPARD . I am a tailor, living at 31, Red Cross-square, Jewin-street—at ten minutes past 5, on the evening of 10th of this month, I was in Bishopsgate-street with my wife and a friend—I was going to help my friend into an omnibus which was passing—I put out my hands just to make a little room for her to get into the bus, when I felt a pinch on my side where my watch was—the prisoner was in front of me and he said, "What are you doing, pushing my hat off?"—I said, "Bother your hat; you have taken my watch"—my watch was gone—it was broken off at the swivel—I had it safe a minute before—there were several females round close by—the watch was worth fifty shillings.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. Where had you been to, that day? A. At work, till after dinner, and when the Lord Mayor's procession came back, I just went to the corner, by Sweeting's, to see it with my wife and a friend, and then to the Flower Pot—it was in a thoroughfare where this occurred—I dare say it was three or four yards from the pavement, perhaps there were thirteen or fourteen persons there, generally females—I did not
see the prisoner's hand in my breast—I felt a hand in my pocket—I will swear it was the prisoner's—other persons were close at the time, but not so close as he was—he had his hat in his hand—I was not shoving his hat—I was getting room for my friend to pass into the bus—I was about a yard from it at that time, in the act of making way for the lady to get in.
EMMA SHEPPARD . I am the wife of the last witness—on the evening of 10th November I was with him in Bishopsgate-street—I saw the prisoner put his hand under my husband's coat—I directly seized his arm, and held it—my husband collared him, and kept him till the policeman came up—the prisoner put his hand towards the place where the watch was, and when he withdrew it the chain was hanging down—there were several women round at the time.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the prisoner's hand in your husband's pocket? A. I saw his hand go under thecoat—I did not catch hold of that hand
DANIEL WHALE (City-policeman, 650). The prisoner was given into my custody—I took him to the station, searched him, and found 2d. on him—the watch has since been found—he gave his address, 4, James-street, Southampton at the station, but afterwards, on going towards the other station—I said, "I shall make inquiries about your address; what number did you give?" and he then said, "No. 5, James-street"—I asked him whether it was a main street—he said, "No, it was a side street"—I asked him what the main street was, and he said, "What we call High-street."
CHARLES EDWIN JONES . I live at 27, Bishopsgate-street within, and am a cabinet packer—my wife picked up this watch (produced) in the area of 27, Bishopsgate-street on 11th November, at ten minutes to 8 in the morning—it is almost directly opposite the "Flower Pot," about two or three hundred yards off, just across the street.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
JOHN GRAVES (City-policeman, 56). About twenty minutes after 10, on the night of 13th October, I was on duty in Tower-street—Trew was with me—I saw Savage cross Tower-street into Beer-lane, carrying a bundle of something on his shoulder—we followed him down the lane, when he dropped the bundle off his shoulder on the footway, at the same time complaining that some man had run Against him, and knocked it off—I asked him what it was—he said he did not know—a man had given it to him to carry from the docks to Seething-lane, or somewhere there—he did not say who he was—the bundle contained 6lbs. short of a cwt. of india-rubber—he said he was hired at St. Katharine's Docks pier head to Seething-lane; he was then going towards St. Katharine's Docks.
Savage. Q. Did not I say, "There is the man going down the lane? A. Yes—I did not see anybody going down the lane.
URIAH TREW (City-policeman, 36). I was with the last witness—while he was questioning Savage I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and saw Bean running down Beer-lane—I caught him—both of us fell together—I took him to the station—he had nothing with him when I saw him.
HENRY SMITH (City-policeman, 517) I was in Tower-street on the night of 13th October, and saw the prisoners within a few paces of me there—I followed Bean into Redcross-square—both of them had bundles—Bean put his down on the step of No. 1—I asked him what he had got there—he
said, "A bundle of clothes"—I felt it, and he ran away behind me—I cried "Stop thief." and he was stopped in Beer-lane—the bundle was a bale of india-rubber.
GEORGE PATTEN . Iam apprenticed to Mr. Edward Batton, a lighter man, and work for Mr. George Dards, of Tower-street, a licensed lighterman—on 15th October I loaded seventeen bales of india-rubber, and took it to the ship Castor, lying off Horsleydown—I got there between 9 and 10 o'clock—I stopped alongside the ship to deliver the goods—I went to the Custom-house first—I had goods there for another ship, called the Vigilant—I was away about half-an-hour from where the india-rubber was stolen—I covered it over before I went away with a tarpauling—I went and got my supper—some time after the officer came to me—I then examined under the tarpauling, and missed two bales of india-rubber—they were lying right on the side of the barge, and the barge was lying under the head of the dummy at the Custom-house quay.
Bean. Q. What time was it when you came out of the docks? A. About 5 o'clock—I then went up to the Vigilant just before the Esk came up, and went to the Castor after high water—5 o'clock was before high water—I delivered coffee on board the Vigilant, eight or nine casks—I left my punt then, under the head of the dummy, anybody could get into her from the dummy—I got into her myself from there—I came straight from the London Docks up to the Vigilant—I did not leave my craft anywhere then, after I got to the Vigilant and delivered the coffee, I left her—I did not go off my tier—I was removed from alongside of the Esk to the stern—the bales were lost at the Custom-house quay, because that was the only time I was away from them—I did not leave my craft when I was at the Castor—I only got out to make her fast—I did not go on board the ship—I spoke to them from the barge—I did not get my goods out till the morning—I was in the cabin all that time—I did not go to sleep—I am sure of that.
GEORGE DARDS . I am a lighterman—the last witness was employed by me on 13th October to lighter some india-rubber—I have looked at the two bales produced by the policemen, and am satisfied they are my property—I find two bales missing—I know Savage—he has worked for me occasionally—I know Bean by sight, nothing more.
Savage. Q. Have I not been employed by you for weeks? A. No, only for a day on and off—I have not heard anything bad of you lately—I have not anything to say against you.
Bean. Q. Are you quite sure that this is your india-rubber? A. Yes, by the weight, description, and measurement—there is no mark on it—the outside covering has been stripped off.
Bean's Defence. About a quarter-past 9 on Thursday-night, I and Savage were sitting down by St. Katharine's plying place, looking for a living. A gentlemanly looking man, about five feet six, came up, and asked if we wanted a job; we said, "Certainly." He said he wanted two packages taken to Tower-street; that they were heavy, and we should want a trunk. We said we could not get a truck at that time, so we took a bale each—he gave us a glass of half-and-half each at the "Marquis of Granby," and gave us a lift up with the bales. We had several rests with them as we went along, and when we got into Tower-street we lost sight of the gentleman, and the policeman came and took us.
Bean was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court on 25th November, 1861, when he was sentenced to Seven Years' Transportation. To this part of the charge he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
SAVAGE— Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Confined Six Months.
WILLIAM WILLIAMS . I live at 9, Harrington-street, Somers-town—on 18th October I went to bed at nearly 1 o'clock in the morning—the house was then secured—I was called up by the police before 6 o'clock—I then discovered that the house had been broken into—they had got in over the fanlight of the door by breaking the glass under the fastening, and pushing the fanlight down, and then getting in through the fanlight—the shop door was open—it had been opened from the inside—the fanlight and door were both fastened the previous night—I found a candle alight in a box of fire lighters—I missed part of a ham, a piece of bacon, two jars of tobaoco, a knife, some coppers, a small portion of silver, and a glass of sagar candy—I found a button there, which I gave to the policeman.
Hawkins. Q. Did you see the button found? A. I took it off the ledge myself.
WILLIAM MCMACTH (Policeman, S 343). On the morning of 18th October, at half-past 3 o'clock, I saw the prisoners at the corner of Harrington-street, near the prosecutor's—I took them into custody on 21st October—they were then together—I found this knife on Butterfield—I observed that Hawkins had two buttons off his jacket—I saw a button afterwards produced by Franklin, which exactly corresponded with those on Hawkins's coat.
Butterfield. Q. Are you sure it was me that you saw on the morning of the 18th, because I can prove that I was in bed? A. Yes; I am quite confident of you—I knew you by sight previously—you had on just what you have now.
Hawkins. Q. You did not say anything to me when you saw me? A. No; I did not suspect you to be a thief then—you had the appearance of a working-man.
THOMAS FRANKLIN (Policeman, S 183). I was called to Mr. Williams's house on the morning of 18th—I saw the button found by the prosecutor on the top of the ledge of the fanlight—he gave it to me, but I unfortunately lost it this morning—I produced it before the Grand Jury—I compared it with the buttons on Hawkins's jacket, and it corresponded.
Hawkins. Q. Did you find the button? A. I saw it lying on the sill of the door by the fanlight—I asked Mr. Williams what it was, and he took it down, and gave it to me—I did not see any button taken from you at the station-house.
JOHN CROOME (Policeman, S 43). I was at the station-house on the morning of the 21st when the prisoners were brought there—I took off Hawkins's jacket—there were two buttons deficient—I asked him where they were—he produced one from his pocket, and said, "This is one"—I said where is the other—he said I don't know—I then compared a button produced by Franklin, and found that it exactly matched with the one Hawkins had given me, and also with those on his jacket—Butterfield had a jagged cut on his thumb, such as would have been produced by a piece of broken glass—I asked him how he accounted for it—he said he did not know.
Butterfield. It was done by breaking a point off a shoemaker's knife; I am a shoemaker by trade.
Hawkins. Q. Did not I say there were four or five buttons off my coat? A. No; I am sure there were two buttons—I compared both with those on your coat.
JOHN WAUGH . I work at a cow-shed in Chenies-street—I do not know the prisoners—on Saturday, 18th October, about 8 in the morning, as I was coming down Maiden-lane, Hawkins made a push at me, and shoved me out into the road, and Butterfield was counting some halfpence.
Butterfield. He is a convicted thief—he has been convicted several times. Witness. I have never been convicted—I have never been tried, or ever been in prison.
Butterfield. Why 343 (McMack) gave him two months, as I have been told.
COURT to JOHN WAUGH. Q. What did you mean by saying that you had never been convicted? A. It is a long while ago—it was not for thieving anything—it was for finding some potatoes, and putting them in my pocket.
Butterfield. If he tells an equivocation in one thing he will in another. He is the man that the knife came from; I bought it of him on the 20th as I was taken on the 21st.
The prisoners were further charged with having been before convicted of felony, Butterfield on 15th July, 1861, and Hawkinson 8th May, 1854, at this Court, of burglary, when he was sentenced to Four Years' Penal Servitude. To this part of the charge.
HAWKINS PLEADED GUILTY.**— Six Years' Penal Servitude.
JOHN COOK (Policeman, S 198). I produce a certificate—(this being read, certified the conviction of George Jones at the Middlesex Sessions, 15th July, 1861, of shop breaking, and that he was sentenced to Twelve Months' imprisonment)—I was present at that trial—Butterfield is the person there mentioned—he was tried with three others—he was in custody previous to that—indeed ever since he was a child.
BUTTERFIELD GUILTY.**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
JAMES JOHN JOHNSON . I am assistant to Charles Lloyd, a tobacconist of 21, Coventry-street—on 18th October, between 11 and 12 o'clock, the prisoner came and laid this paper on the counter—(read: "Please send by bearer 6lbs. of good common shag, 3lbs. of superfine, and 1lb. of cut Cavendish. G. DIBBEN, October 18/62")—Mr. Dibben is a customer, and the prisoner used occasionally to come for things for him with a written order—I gave him these goods to the value of 1s. 16s. 10d.
Prisoner. Q. How many orders have I brought to you? A. I can't say—perhaps one or two a-week, for three or four months—to the best of my belief they were all signed "G. Dibben"—you told me you were sent by Mr. or Mrs. Dibben—I know Mr. Dibben's writing—I should not have given you these goods except on the faith of his handwriting.
GEORGE DIBBEN . I am a tobacconist at the corner of Sloane-street—I have occasionally employed the prisoner in little jobs—this order was not written by me or by my authority—it resembles my writing—the goods were never brought to me.
Prisoner. Q. Did I ever see any of your writing? A. I dare say you have—I am not sure whether I ever wrote an order for you to take to Mr. Lloyd's—I may have written some—I don't know—it was my wife that employed you, not me.
Prisoner. Q. How many orders have I taken for you. A. It is impossible to say—the last order you had from me was on 8th October—I allowed you to write some orders because I had confidence in you, but not this—I was not in town at the time.
PETER SMITH (Policeman, B 163). I took the prisoner into custody on 27th October—I told him the charge—he said he was very sorry, he was drunk at the time, and had been drinking very hard for several days.
ALFRED HALL . I am a publican—on 16th October the prisoner offered me some tobacco for sale in the public room—I would not buy it—he asked me to lend him five shillings on it—I asked where he got it from, and he said he had to sell it for a tradesman—he said he would call for it presently—he never came, and after waiting six days I gave information to the police.
Prisoner. Q. Was I not drinking at your house the whole of the week? A. No.
Prisoner's Defence. I can't Hay how I came in possession of this order. I was drinking the whole of the week, and the only thing I can think of is that Mrs. Dibben must have ordered me to write it. I was not conscious of what I was about.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, November 25th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. CARDEN; Mr. Ald. GABRIEL; and
Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY .*— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
27. WILLIAM CAMPBELL (23), ELIZABETH BARRETT (22), ELLEN SULLIVAN (22), and JULIA REGAN (19) , Feloniously having in their possession a mould and other implements for making counterfeit coin; to which
BARRETT PLEADED GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRANNAN . I am employed by the Mint authorities—I went on Friday, 7th November, to 126, Wentworth-street, Whitechapel, accompanied by other officers—it is a common lodging-house—the street door was open—I proceeded through the kitchen and across the yard to a room at the far end, the door of which I pushed open, and saw the whole of the prisoners sitting at a table by a clear bright fire, the prisoner Barrett holding a sixpence in one hand and a file in the other—on seeing me she placed the file on the mantelshelf—I took this sixpence (produced) out of her left hand—at that time I saw Campbell, who sat next to her, place his left-hand in her lap—five or six of the officers were then in the room—I said, "Consider yourselves in custody for being here manufacturing this counterfeit coin"—I did not see
what Campbell had in his hand, but I took thirteen counterfeit sixpences out of Barrett's lap—that was after I had said this—Campbell laughed, and said, "Sure, I only came in, sir, to solder this girl's coffee-pot"—I said, "Just attend to me, will you; you won't find this a laughing matter hereafter, to be found with these people in manufacturing this counterfeit join"—he said, "Oh, by Jesus, I solder all the coffee-pots and things for these girls, and all the people in the neighbourhood; they all know me well"—the fourteen sixpences are here, the file is not—it was mislaid yesterday—I saw Barrett using it—she had the file in one hand and the sixpence in the other.
COURT. Q. Were the sixpences cold? A. They were warm—they were not finished.
Cross-examined by MR. KEMP (for Campbell). Q. You know most of the persons engaged in the manufacture of counterfeit coin? A. Not all of them I do not—I think I have more knowledge of them than any other person in the force—in all probability if anything was known against a man, I should know it—I know nothing of Campbell, further than seeing him amongst this class of persons—I know he is a travelling tinman, and if I might give my opinion, he is more dangerous as that than anything else—the H division are the police in that neighbourhood—I know 148 H by his number—his inspector will tell you about him better than I can—I saw no signs of mending kettles or pots—there are always tin pots in these lodging-houses.
MR. COOKE. Q. Was there any pot or kettle on the table when you went in? A. No, nothing at all—Campbell had got no tools or anything of the kind before him.
ARTHUR ELLIOTT (Police-sergeant, G 13). I accompanied Mr. Brannan and the other officers to this room, where the prisoners were caught—as the others were entering at the door, I went to the window of the room and looked in—I saw the four prisoners sitting round the table, and saw some sixpences in Campbell's hands, and as the officers entered the room, I saw him drop his hand into Barrett's lap—I afterwards went into the room and found this cup, containing sand and water, and another containing acid (produced).
JAMES BRANNAN . I am an inspector of the G division of police—I went with the other officers to this place in Whitechapel—I went into the room at the same time as Brannan—I observed the prisoners, and more particularly Sullivan—I saw her with this child's boot in her hand—directly I made towards her she dropped it on the floor—I picked it up and found five counterfeit sixpences in it, which I produce—there was a cupboard in the room very near the fire-place—in a recess at the top of the cupboard I found this plaster-of-paris mould for sixpences, quite warm, wrapped in this red rag—it appeared to have been recently used—the recess seemed to me to have been made for the purpose—I had great difficulty in finding it—I found some copper wire, and I raked amongst the ashes, and found some plaster-of-paris pieces of a mould, broken.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear Campbell say that he was there for the purpose of mending some pots? A. I did not notice much what he said; they were all talking and swearing, and making use of frightful language.
THOMAS LEONARD (Police-sergeant, G 6). I accompanied the other officers to this room—I saw this pipkin (produced) in Regan's hand, and she put it under the bed—I picked it up, it was quite warm—I also found under the bed a piece of glass, with plaster-of-paris on it, and a plate containing acid
—under a loose board in the floor, I found a file—I ascertained that the prisoners all lodged there—they all gave that address at the station—they said they lived there—Campbell said, "I am innocent, the three women are the only parties who made them."
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Mint—this it a mould for making sixpences of the Queen of 1853—there are fourteen bad sixpences here, all out of that mould, some of them have the gets just roughly broken off, and one of them is partly finished—there are also five sixpences, all counterfeit, four of them are finished and one not, and they are from the same mould as the others—the articles I see here are commonly used for making counterfeit coin—the sand on the plate is for scouring and cleansing, and the rag for wrapping the mould in—the wire is not here.
Sullivan's Defence. I do live in the lodging-house, but not in that room. I was going to buy a pair of boots, and I took them in to show them to this young woman, and had not been in there five minutes when the policeman came in.
Regan's Defence. I just took my washing in there, and Mr. Brannan and his son came in; I had nothing in my hand. I said to Mr. Brannan, "What do you want with me, I have done nothing." I had uo pipkin in my hand. He said, "You must all come, you are all as bad as one another."
GUILTY .—SULLIVAN and REGAN Four Years' Penal Servitude.
CAMPBELL— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
ANN DENHAM . My uncle keeps the Angel and Crown, Tabernacle-square, Shoreditch—I serve there as barmaid—I remember serving the prisoner there on 23d October last, about a quarter before 12, with three half-penny-worth of gin—he paid me with a counterfeit shilling—I found out that after he had gone—I gave him a sixpence, four penny pieces, and a half-penny change—he drank the gin and went quickly out—I bent the shilling, and afterwards gave it to the policeman—a few minutes afterwards the prisoner came in again for another three half-pennyworth of gin—the barman served him—he tendered a shilling in payment—I told the barman he had just given me a bad shilling, and showed it to him—the prisoner then said rather than have any row or bother, he would give a good one for it.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. How long have you been in your uncle's service as barmaid? A. Two years and a half—we had taken bad money before—about three weeks before my uncle said he had taken some—I had not taken any shortly before this, that I am aware of—I had some time before—I have taken it two or three times in the two years and a half—this was shortly before we shut up, at a quarter to 12—about half a dozen persons were in the house—I saw nothing wrong with the shilling till after the prisoner had gone out—I put it on one side of the till when I took it, and then took it up, looked at it, found it was bad, bent it in the till, and put it in the same place again—this is it (produced)—I know it by the way I bent it—when I told the barman, I had just taken one, the prisoner had not offered the shilling to him—he was at the counter, the same place he came in before—he did not hear me that I am aware of—the shilling was found to be bad just as I spoke—there was one lady in the compartment where the prisoner was, and other persons in other parts of the bar—the prisoner afterwards offered a good shilling.
first time the prisoner came in, when the last witness served him—I served him the second time, and he put a bad shilling down on the counter—the barmaid spoke to me just before, and from what she said to me, I examined the shilling, and found it was bad—she also showed me the shilling she had taken from the prisoner—he then said he would sooner give a good one than have any row or bother—I jumped on the counter; as soon as he saw me put my foot on the counter, he rushed out—I pursued him, and he was stopped in the street—it was very difficult to get him quiet inside till the policeman came—I gave the bad shilling I took to my master, and he gave it to the policeman.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you accompany him to the station? A. I followed him afterwards—I did not see either of the policemen kick or strike him on the way—I heard him say that the policeman had hit him with a staff.
GEORGE MATTOCK (Policeman, G 162). I was called in to Mr. Neale's house, and prisoner was given into my custody—these two shillings were handed to me on the way to the police-station—he made a sudden jump, and got himself away from the other constable, who was with me—he kicked me in the legs and gave me a clip on the ear, and I had to use my staff—he also beat somebody on the head who was trying to assist us—he was very violent—I found on him eight sixpences, one shilling, and fourteen pence halfpenny in copper—he gave his address, 25 Union-street, Stoke Newington—there is no such number in the street.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you touch him before he did anything? A. No, he was going along very quietly before he made that sudden jump.
GUILTY .*— Confined Eighteen Months.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH LAYTON . My brother-in-law keeps the Greengate Tavern, City-road—I was assisting there on the night of 1st November—I saw the prisoner in front of the bar about 10 o'clock, with some women—one of the women called for some rum and hot water—I served her, it came to sixpence—there was also a man with the prisoner, and they disputed between them who should pay for the rum—the prisoner took a half-crown and eight pennyworth of coppers out of his pocket—the half-crown looked very like a bad one; it was black—he said he would not pay for the rum, and put the money back in his pocket—he then took a half-crown out of another pocket, and gave it to me to pay for the rum—I looked at it, found it was bad, and broke it in the detector—my brother-in-law looked at it, and asked the prisoner if he had got any more bad money—he said, "No; and that is not bad"—I said, "Yes, it is, and that is not the only bad money you have"—one of the girls then said, "You had better turn your pockets out," and the one that he first took out was produced, the black one—my attention was then called to another part of the bar, and when I looked back I saw the barmaid with a piece of bad money in her hand, which she broke in the detector—the prisoner was afterwards given in charge, and the bad coin given to the policeman—I should know it again—I broke a small piece out.
SARAH ANN CHARLWOOD . I was barmaid at the Greengate Tavern, on this night, and was present when the prisoner and the women were there—I saw him pull out the black half-crown and the coppers, and put them back into his pocket—he had rum and water to drink I heard Miss Layton
tell him he had more bad money about him—several of the girls told him to empty his pockets and clear his character—after some time he pulled out some silver and coppers from his pocket, with this bad half-crown—the bad half-crown was thrown on the counter, and I picked it up—one of the girls said, "There, you can see that is not a bad one"—I said, "Yes; it is bad enough," and I put it in the detector, and brake it in two places—the landlord and landlady were there, and Mr. Anderson said he would send for a policeman—when he said that they all ran away—the girls went out at one door, and the prisoner by a different door—when Mr. Anderson came back the prisoner was gone—the policeman had the two half-crowns—the prisoner came in and joined the girls in the house.
JOHN CLIFF (Policeman, G 68). I was called in to Mr. Anderson's on 1st November, and the prisoner given into mycharge—I received these two broken half-crowns (produced)—one is in three pieces, and one has a bit out of it—I told the prisoner he was charged with passing bad money—he said the money was his if it was bad—he had received it for his wages—I took him to the station—Mr. Anderson went with me—the prisoner said there that he had changed half a sovereign at the Greengate Tavern, and if he had bad money it was there he got it—Mr. Anderson went back again to ascertain, and came back shortly afterwards, and told the prisoner he had not changed half a sovereign there—he then said, "I did not say that I did; I changed it at Wenlock-street, playing at skittles"—I found on him a half-crown, one shilling, one sixpence, and threepence in coppers, all good money.
Prisoner's Defence. I was paid off 1l. on the Saturday night. I paid 10s. of it away to a man, and then went to the Wenlock Arms to play skittles with him—after having two or three games, I lost a pot of beer, and gave him the half sovereign to get it changed—he brought me back 9s. 7d. out—two half-crowns, a two shilling-piece, a shilling, sixpence, and a penny—I then began to bet on the games, and got two half-crowns, I had four half-crowns when I went to the Greengate Tavern, I pulled out one of them, and the woman said it was bad. I then pulled out another, and she said that was a bad one. The policeman then took me into custody. I took it for good money. I never robbed anybody in my life.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
JONATHAN PALMER . I keep a soup-house, at 88, Euston-road—my wife is unable to come here to-day; she has been confined—I have the certificate—I have seen her this morning—she is not able to come—Amelia Ann Palmer's deposition was here put in and read as follows:"I am the wife of Jonathan Palmer, of 88, Euston-road—we keep a soup house—last Friday night, the 7th, the prisoners came together to our house—Tomlinson called for some soup, and gave me in payment a half-crown, which I rung on the counter and put it in the till—they finished their soup, and Lewis said to the other, "Will you have some more?"—Tomlinson said, "yes," and they called for two other basins of soup—Lewis then threw down a bad half-crown—I then looked in the till and found the one I had put in was also bad—it was the only one in the till—I then called my husband, and gave him both the half-crowns.—Signed, AMELIA ANN PALMER."
—in consequence of what the told me, I went round the counter and said to them, "This is a bad half-crown"—Lewis said, "Is it?"—I said, "Well, do you know anything about it?"'—she said, "I gave one"—Tomlinson then said, "Give it me back"—I said, "I will, if you pay me for what you have had, and she did so, and I gave her one of the two back—I sent for a constable—they were just about to leave, when a constable was coming across the road—I told them they had better stop and see it settled—I got them to stop for half a minute, and the constable was just in time—I gave the second constable the half-crown, the one who is here—Tomlinson, paid me with a good half-crown.
JAMES NORMAN (Policeman, S 97). Mr. Palmer gave me this bad half-crown (produced)—I took Tomlinson into custody—she was searched, and two florins, nine shillings, a sixpence, and four penny pieces in copper, good money, found upon her—on Lewis was found two shillings, and sixpence half-penny in copper, good money—Lewis was carrying this basket (produced) containing a pair of braces, half an ounce of tea, half a pound of sugar, half an ounce of tobacco, a quire of note paper, a packet of envelopes, a shirt collar, and a reel of cotton—she said she had been round Islington selling violets—there were a few bunches of violets in the basket, and that she had met Tomlinson in the Euston-road.
JAMES WHISSON , (Policeman, S 68). I was called to Mr. Palmer's shop, and took charge of the prisoners—I saw this half-crown (produced) in Tomlinson's hand—I asked her to give it to me, which she did—she said she did not know that it was bad—I detained the prisoners till the other constable came up, and then took Lewis to the station.
Lewis's Defence. I had been out all day selling violets, and was coming down the Euston-road when I met this young woman, who came along with me. She met a gentleman who gave her five shillings, and we went in to have some soup. I asked her to lend me half a crown, which she did. We had one plate of soup, and then I paid for two more basins out of my half-crown. I bought the butter and sugar, and the paper I used to wrap my violets up in. I know nothing about the other things.
Tomlinson. That is quite true what she has said.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months each.
PLEADED GUILTY .
Recommended to mercy by the prosecutors. MR. GEORGE HENRY LEWIS and MR. JAMES GRAHAM LEWIS, solicitors, of Ely-place, gave the prisoner an excellent character, and the former stated that he would undertake to send him out of the country at his own expense.— Judgment Respited.
MESSRS. COOKE and CRAWFORD conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN ORFORD . My father keeps the British Oak beershop in Lea Bridge-road—I was serving there on 4th of this month, when the prisoner came in and asked for a pint of ale, which wan threepence—he gave me a shilling, and I gave him ninepence change—I put the shilling into my pocket—I had no other money there but a few coppers—in consequence of something my father said to me, I examined that shilling, found it was bad, and gave it to him.
between 5 and 6, the prisoner came to my house for a pint of ale—that was after my daughter served him—he gave me a shilling, I put it in the till, and gave him ninepence change—there was no other shilling in the till—soon after that he asked for another pint of ale, and paid me another shilling—I found that was a bad one, and told him so—he picked it np, and said, "Is it," and gave me a good one—I then went to the till and found the other was bad—I turned round, and the prisoner was gone—I went to look after him, followed him to another beerehop, and then gave him in charge—I gave the constable tho shilling that I put in the till, and another which my daughter gave me—one bad shilling I gave back to the prisoner, and the others I gave to the policeman.
SARAH HAMMOND . My father keeps the King's Head beershop, Leabridge, close by Mr. Orford's—I serve there—the prisoner came in on 4th November, called for a pint of beer, and gave me a shilling in payment—I put it in the till—there were three others there—I gave him tenpence change—he afterwards asked for some bread and cheese, and I served him—in the meantime some Communication was made to me—the prisoner gave me another shilling in payment, which I kept in my hand—I gave him ninepence halfpenny change—I found the shilling was bad, said something to my mother, and saw her go to the till and take out a bad shilling—she gave them both to the constable.
JOHN FARROW (Policeman, N 396). I went to the Hope and Anchor beershop, and found the prisoner—the barmaid had jnst served the prisoner with a pint of beer, and was giving him change for a shilling—I inquired of her, in his hearing, what he had given her—she said, "A shilling"—she then took this bad shilling out of the till (produced)—Mr. Orford charged him with passing two other bad shillings-at his house—he made no reply to that or to the barmaid—I afterwards searched him and found two bad florins and two bad shillings in his left-hand trousers pocket, and in the right-hand pocket seven sixpences and thirteen pence halfpenny, good money—on the way to the station we met Miss Hammond and her mother, and they charged the prisoner with passing bad money at their place—he said nothing at all—I produce two shillings which I had from Mrs. Hammond.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . The two first coins are bad, the two next coins from Hammond's are both bad, and one from the same mould as Miss Orford's; of those found in his pocket there are two counterfeit florins of the same mould, and two bad shillings of the same mould, and of the same mould as Mr. Orford's—there is another shilling which came from the Hope and Anchor that is bad, and from the same mould as Mr. Orford's, and the two in the prisoner's pocket.
Witnesses for the Defence.
THOMAS WILLIAMS . I am a builder at Plaistow, in Essex—the prisoner was in my service as an excavator—he was employed digging out foundations for two houses in High-street, Poplar—I was there—I saw him stoop down and rise afterwards—he then said to me, "Williams, I have found some money," and he chucked me a shilling—I looked at it; it was a little corroded—I rubbed it, and it appeared a very good one—he did not show me any more money then—about an hour afterwards I asked him to let me look at it again—I did so, and told him I thought it was a good one—the next morning at a coffee-shop I saw him pull out two or three shilling pieces and a few shillings which looked a little corroded—he said nothing about them—I thought he had found them and kept it a secret from me—he only showed me one—I did not know that he had more than one at that
time—I can't give you the date of this exactly—it is about a mouth or five weeks ago—it was somewhere about 24th October, within a few days of this—two or three other parties found coin there—I was there at the time—the prisoner has borne a good character from the parties that he has been working with.
Cross-examined by MR. COOKE. Q. How long had you employed him? A. About a fortnight as an excavator—it was garden soil that he was digging at—it had been a garden—it was a nice black mould, not clay—he was digging from a foot to a couple of feet down.
MR. COOKE called
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These coins have never been corroded, never been cleaned, and never been in the earth at any time more than eight or nine months—they have never been in the earth; certainly not corroded.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. You will not undertake to say that those have not been in the earth? A. Take this shilling of 1860; it has been in circulation, and that would bring it down to 1861—I will undertake to say that it could not have been in the earth more than eight or nine months—if a shilling was put in the fire and cleaned again, I could tell whether it had been cleaned or not—not three or four years afterwards, because it would wear plain.
MR. COOKE. Q. You have given your attention to coins and medals for a long time? A. For thirty years, and have been in the service of the Mint fifteen years—I can tell whether a coin has been cleaned or not for some time after.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
33. HENRY BELLAIRS (26) , Feloniously forging and uttering a request for the payment of money; also a request for the payment of 8l. 10s.; also a request for the payment of 7l. 10s.; also a request for the payment of 11l. with intent to defraud; also unlawfully attempting to obtain 1 pistol and 6s. in money, the property of William Jennings, by false pretences; to all of which he
PLEADED GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, November 26th, 1862.
PRESENT—The Right Hon. the LORD MAYOR; Mr. JUSTICE BYLES;
Before Mr. Justice Byles.
MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED ATLETT (Police-sergeant, S 15). I reside at Highgate—on the 23d of October, about three-quarters after 6 in the evening, the prisoner came to the Highgate police-station—he inquired if that was a police-station—I said, "Yes; what do you want?"—he said, "I have come to give myself up for wilfully setting fire to a haystack"—I said, "Be careful; it
is a very serious offence; be careful what you are saying," and I told him that what he said after that I should have to use against him—I then said, "When and where?"—he said, "About 2 o'clock this afternoon, down the road," pointing in the direction where the fire had been, and was then burning—I asked him how he did it—he said, "I set fire to my handkerchief, and then set fire to the stack; I then went in the woods and remained till dusk."
COURT. Q. Do you know him at all? A. No; he it a stranger; I could find no clue of him—he refused to give any address—I asked him subsequently whether his name was James Howard Percy, and he said it was not his right name.
FREDERICK PERRYER . I am an engineer in the fire brigade—I was sent for, between 9 and 10 o'clock, to the police-station at Highgate, and saw the prisoner—I was at the fire between a quarter and 20 minutes to 3—it was a rick, in a place called Potkiln-field, belonging to Mr. Baker—it broke out about half-past 2—I attended there until it was extinguished—it was burning pretty well the whole of the night, and part of the next day—the stack consisted of about forty-five loads.
ROBERT DELAMORE (Policeman, S 72). On 23d October, about a quarter to 7 in the evening, I was outside the police-station at Highgate—the prisoner came up and asked me where the police-station was—I said it was against him—he said he had come to give himself up for wilfully setting fire to a haystack—he said he struck a lucifer, and set fire to it with his handkerchief.
WALTER BAKER . I reside with my father, a farmer, at North-hill, Highgate—on 23d October a stack of hay belonging to him was burnt, the most part of it, in the rick-yard—it took fire soon after 2 o'clock—most of it was consumed, and what was left was of no account—it was valued at 200l.—it is in Hornsey parish.
Prisoner's Defence. I had a little family quarrel with my friends, and left my home; I had been drinking freely for nine or ten days; I had spent all my money, and did not know where to go; I was strolling about and saw this fire burning, about 2 o'clock; I asked some man what it was; he said some one had set fire to a haystack; I had no money; I did not know where to go, and I started away back to Highgate, and thought I would give myself up for having done it, as I did not know where to lodge, and had no money or anything else; I never saw the stack, and did not know the man it belonged to; I was not near the fire; I was in the road when I saw it.
ALFRED AYLETT (re-examined). I found no pocket handkerchief on the prisoner—he had a woollen scarf round his neck, and he took that off as I was searching him, and wiped his face with it—he did not appear to have been drinking—I found on him this gold pin, and three gold studs, a portemonnaie, a pair of gloves, a hair-brush, nail-brush, and tooth-brush, a comb, a knife, and a halfpenny in money—there was no handkerchief, or anything belonging to him, found near the fire—I went down to examine, because he pointed out the spot where he did it—it was at the north-east corner of the stack—I did not go with him to the stack; he told me—it is about threequarters of a mile from the station—he inquired whether the second stack had caught fire—that was on the second day, after the examination—I found no matches.
right round the stack and on to the top—it had begun at the north-west cornor; the corner towards London—the wind was blowing from the north-west at the time.
ALFRED ATLETT (re-examined). I believe it was the north-east corner that the prisoner pointed out—it was on the right-hand side of the road going from London, and it was the further corner of the stack—he pointed to the corner next the road; the corner away from London—that was how he described it to me—he was not seen by any one in the neighbourhood—there were two stacks close together—there were thousands of footprints round the rick in a very short time—he was cool and collected when he came to the station; not at all excited—his boots were very wet and covered with a clay, loamy soil; the same as in the wood.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, November 26th, 1862.
Ald.; Mr. Ald. GABRIEL; Mr. Ald. ALLEN; and Mr. Ald. GIBBONS.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
RYK LE SUEUR . I am a medical student, of Alfred-street, Bedford-square—on 23d October, about ten minutes past 6 in the afternoon, I was walking along Bloomasbury-street, and was pushed by some one rather violently, and about a second afterwards I was knocked down by a very heavy blow on the mouth, and my head coming in contact with the pavement the blow stunned me—one of my front teeth was broken, and several others were loosened in the lower and upper jaw, and my lip was cut rather severely—I thought they must have had something in their hands—I do not know who the men were—I saw one running off when I came to my senses; and I called "Police!"—I missed my watch from a small watch-pocket in my waistcoat—the swivel was bent out.
Roberts. Q. Did the man who struck you come in front, or were you struck from behind? A. I believe he was in front, because I got the blow on my mouth—I saw you at Bow-street station on the 30th, and said that I did not know you—I picked another man out.
Anderson. Q. When you saw me at the George-street station, you said that I was not the man? A. I said I could not identify you.
CHARLES WOOD . I live at 7, Henry-street, Upper Kennington-lane, Vauxhall, and am a clerk—I was at the corner of Bloomsbury-street on Thursday evening, 23d October, at a little after 6 o'clock, and saw Mr. Le Sueur there—I was about twenty yards from him—I saw one of the prisoners, who, I should think, by the look of him, was Anderson, push against him, and then another struck him on the mouth, and ran away—I should not like to say, who that was—I saw Mr. Le Sueur on the ground, and Anderson feeling about his chest—Anderson then ran away past me—I saw his face, and followed him through two or three streets; he then turned round the corner of a street and walked back again—I was running behind him at the time, and was able to see his face again—I looked him in the face, and said, "You are the one who took the gentleman's watch"—he said, "Bill, look here
what this young chap says, that I have been and took a gentleman's watch"—there were several persons walking behind him, to one of whom he spoke—when he said that we just came to the corner of a street, a crowd began to collect, and a policeman said, "What is the matter?"—I said, "A man has taken a gentleman's watch;" and when I looked round again I could not see the prisoner—when Anderson ran off, Roberts passed me—that was before Anderson ran down the street—I was not able to see him as he went by; I took no notice of him—I saw Anderson next, at Bow-street station, on the following Saturday, with several other men, and pointed him out to the constable.
Roberts. Q. Do you recollect coming to Bow-street station on 30th October, in the afternoon? A. Yes—I saw you among a number of men, and said that I did not know you—I saw you again when I gave my evidence.
COURT. Q. You do not say that you know him now? A. No—when I say that the other prisoner did so and so, I mean the other man.
Anderson. Q. What did I strike the gentleman with? A. You had nothing in your hand but your fist—you struck him with your right hand—you went in front of him—I was twenty yards from you when you struck him—it was twilight—I did not see you take anything from him, but I saw you feeling about his chest—I lost sight of you just when you were turning the corner; that is all—I did not come against you at your first hearing—I did not know it till you were remanded—I pointed you out—I was there, but was not in Court.
MR. CLERK. Q. I believe you were at the Police-court at the first hearing, but were not called as a witness? A. Yes—they were remanded for a week—I saw Anderson's face twice; once as he turned the corner of the street in which he committed the robbery, and again when he turned back—the man who hit him in the face ran away directly—Anderson did not hit him in the face; he pushed him behind—when I say he had nothing in his hand, I mean when he pushed him—I was going round the corner of a street, and the two men who attacked the gentleman were coming in an opposite direction, so as to meet him—when he called out "Bill," there was somebody behind him on the opposite side—I was turning the corner just as he turned back—there was no one running away in the same direction.
Roberts. Q. Did you say at the Police-court that Anderson struck the prosecutor in the month? A. One of the men who I believed was Anderson—it was a mistake on my part; I thought you were Anderson—I said, at Bow-street, that the man who struck him in the face was the man whom I followed; but that was a mistake.
COURT. Q. Can you say now which of the two men it was who struck the blow; never mind their names? A. I am not certain which struck the blow, but I am certain that Anderson pushed him.
EDWARD GEORGE WEBB . I am the landlord of the Old Dog public-house, Holywell-street, Strand—on the evening of 23d October, about 20 minutes past 6, I was crossing from Oxford-street into Bloomsbury-street, and saw the prosecutor coming towards me—just as he got to the saddler's shop, by Thorney-street, Anderson pushed at the side of him; whether he struck a blow or not, I cannot say—Roberts then came round and struck the prosecutor in the face, and then went up Thorney-street—whether he had anything in his hand I cannot tell-the gentleman was in a stooping position when Roberts went away—Roberts walked very fast up Thorney-street, and I went
after him—he turned round and upon we, under lamp, in Thorney-street, and I stepped back and saw his face—he turned round on me a second time—I saw him again, on the following Friday week, at Bow-street Police-court, and picked him out, the first man, from among a number of people—on the night this took place I gave a description of the prisoners at Bow-street—when I left, Anderson was in front of the prosecutor, and there was a boy close to them—I did not see Anderson again till the Saturday morning; the day after I recognised Roberts—I picked him out from among thirty people.
Roberts. Q. How far were you from the gentleman? A. About there yards in front of him, by the saddler's shop; one house from Thorney-street—you walked away first, and turned round twice upon me, and then you ran—you were six yards from me when you turned round upon me—this was getting on for a quarter of a mile from Bow-street Police-station—I went down two or three streets to find you, because you took to your heels—I gave no alarm till I got to Bow-street—there was no one to be seen in Thorney-street—I got to Bow-street about 7 o'clock—I walked round the little brewery where you turned down in Thorney-street—I gave information directly to Ackrill, and also to one of the sergeants—I also described you to Holmes next morning, as he was going into the Court—I was taken to recognise you on the Friday, about half-past 12—this happened on Thursday, and I saw you on the following Friday week—you were not taken till the Thursday night following—I do not know why I was not fetched on Thursday—I recognised you as soon as I was fetched—after I gave the information, I did not see Ackrill or Holmes again till they fetched me—I had a good view of you—you struck the gentleman, and caused him to stoop—I did not see him fall.
Anderson. Q. How far were you from me when I pushed up against the gentleman? A. Three yards—you clapped your right hand on his chest—the blow caused him to go down—I cannot say whether you took anything from him—I followed the one who struck the blow, leaving you to rifle his pockets, because there was a boy close to you—I did not say in my deposttions that it was 8 o'clock.
JURY. Q. When you say that you saw Mr. Le Sneur in a stooping position, do you mean that he was in the act of falling? A. Yes; but he had not reached the ground—if I had stopped till he fell I should have lost sight of the other man—I saw Anderson's face by the gas-light—I was only three yards in front of him—I only saw Anderson for a moment, because I followed the other man, but I caught his eyes, and he had a red comforter round his neck.
Anderson. It is very strange that you could see that I had a cast in my eye in the dark, at three yards distance.
WILLIAM ACKRILL (Policeman, F 48). On 23d October, I was on duty in Endell-street, in plain clothes, between 5 and 6 o'clock, and met the prisoners together, close to Bloomsbury-street—I knew them before.
Roberts. Q. What time did Webb see you on the night of the 12th? A. I was standing at the station door about 8 o'clock, when he came to me, and said, "Ackrill, there has been a gentleman knocked down in Bloomsbury-street"—he described you, and I was in search of you both until you were apprehended.
JURY. Q. Was it by accident that the last witness saw you enter the Court? A. Yes.
Roberts. Q. How came he to know your name so well? A. Because I
have seen him before—he has come and asked me to look at certain characters who visit his public-house, and I have done so.
WALTER HOLMES (Police-sergean, F 3). On this evening, having received a description of the prisoners, I went in search of them all next day, and on the following night, going along Endell-street, about 11 o'clock, I saw Anderson—on my getting near him, he turned himself towards the edge of the pavement, and hid himself from my view—I saw who it was, and said, "What are you doing here?"—he said, "I am just going home"—I said, "Anybody with you?"—he said, "No"—I turned round, and about two houses off saw Roberts in a dark doorway—he was seven or eight yards from Anderson—I kept Anderson in conversation in the hopes of getting assistance—I saw a police-sergeant on the opposite side—I took Anderson across, and Roberts walked off quickly—I went after him, but could not overtake him—he did not run—this was on the 24th.
Roberts. Q. What time did you see Webb? A. I believe it was the next morning—he spoke to me at the top of Bow-street, and told me what he saw—I knew him by sight, but did not know who he was till he told me—that was between 10 and 11 o'clock, but I will not be certain—I did not speak to you, because I could not manage the two of you—I intended you to go on a short distance till I got assistance, but you made off, and I lost sight of you while I was taking Anderson across the road.
Anderson. Q. You took me to George-street station? A. I sent you there while I went to look after Roberts—it was about 11 o'clock when you got there—the prosecutor was fetched—he saw you between two policemen, and said you were not the man, and the inspector said that you might go, but I took you up for loitering—I did not bring the witnesses against you on the first hearing, because I did not intend the other case to be known until we got Roberts, in order that Roberts might be apprehended—that was the reason we did not put in this evidence—I saw you on the 30th, in the afternoon, I think—I did not apprehend you—you were not then charged with loitering; you were detained—we said that it was useless to bring you up that day, because Roberts was to be brought up the next day, and we brought you both up together, but it did not rest with me—the inspector may have begged for a remand, and you were remanded for one day—I do not know why Webb was not brought to recognise you—you were charged with being concerned with the other, and only sufficient evidence was gone into to remand you—I did not go for Webb myself, but I understood that he was not to be found.
WILLIAM GOOD (Policeman, A 523). I was a police-sergeant during the Exhibition—on 30th October I apprehended Roberts in Tottenham-court-road—I think it was on Thursday—I said that I should take him for stealing a watch from a gentleman in Bloomsbury-street, on the night of the 23d, and assaulting him—he said, "Very well"—he went quietly with me until he came to George-street, St. Giles's, where he inquired the charge again—I repeated it, and he said, "You want me for putting the mug on, do you? I will put the b—y mug on you," and turned round and jumped out of my hands, leaving the cuflfs of his coat in my hands—I kept hold of the tail of his coat, and he kicked me on the hip and knocked me down—mug is slang used by thieves; it means garotting—a great crowd assembled, and a gentleman put a policeman's staff into my hand, with which I struck Roberts several times, and secured him.
COURT. Q. Do you mean that the crowd attacked you? A. Yes; but five or six gentlemen in the crowd rendered me assistance—it is a very low
place—the people knew me, and did all in their power to take the prisoner away, but I secured him and took him to the station.
Roberts. Q. Who gave you information concerning me? A. I will not tell you, for his sake—the sergeant who assisted me is not here—I received a description of you at the station, from the police orders issued from Scotland-yard—you left one cuff in my hand, and one in the hand of the other policeman—I cannot produce them—I have not seen them since—I did not throw them away, I must have dropped them in the struggle, I suppose there are several witnesses here who saw them—(Roberts here took off his coat and handed it to the Jury, to show that the cuffs were not torn)—you wore a coat something like this, but the sleeves wave torn from about there—I am not a tailor, but this sleeve has been torn—(MR. CLERK stated that he could prove that the coat had been mended in the gaol, if necessary)—I was not at Bow-street when the prosecutor was brought there—Webb was not brought that day, because he had not been found, I believe—I made no charge against you but for assaulting this gentleman and stealing his watch; I know nothing of any charge of loitering.
Roberts' Defence. One witness says that Anderson knocked the gentleman down, and the other that I did it. One says that I went to the station at 7 o'clock, and Ackrill says 8 o'clock. He says that he saw Holmes at the police-court, and Holmes says that it was at the top of Bow-street or Longacre. The evidence is only got up. They know no more about me than you do. There is not a robbery that these men do not get up, especially for garotting, and nobody says that this gentleman was garotted at all. They take people up a week afterwards, and then say that I left my cuffs in their hands. There has never been a cuff torn off my coat, but, as they have apprehended me, they do not care what they say to convict me.
Anderson's Defense. I was apprehended, charged with loitering, taken to Georgs-street, and let go, I was then taken to Bow-street, charged with loitering, and remanded for a week. Holmes says that he received information from Webb; way did not be bring Webb against me at my first hearing? he did not bring him for a week afterwards. He says that the man struck him and that I struck him. If he knew that I was one who had done the robbery, why did not he charge me with it? I am innocent, but I am known to the police as a convicted thief; therefore they do not care what they say to bring the charge against me.
GUILTY .—Roberts was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court, in August, 1858, in the name of Edward Jones, and sentenced to four years' penal servitude (See vol. 48, page 299), and Anderson with having been before covicted at Westminster Sessions, in September, 1858; to which they
The officers stated that Roberts had only been out of prison since May, and had also been in custody previously; and that Anderson had been fifteen times before convicted.
ROBERTS— Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.
ANDERSON— Penal Servitude for Life.
THE COURT directed a reward of 5 l. each to be given to Holmes and Good.
MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
Holborn—I had not had too much to drink—I was quite capable of taking care of myself—six or seven men came up—one of them got me by the back of the neck, another by the throat, and four or five others were on my body at the same time—I was nearly strangled, and have been spitting blood ever since—one man, who did me great injury, was on the pit of my stomach, but the worst part was my throat—they took 1l. 17s. from my pockets, and turned them inside out—that did not continue more than a minute—I was on the ground—a waterman cried out "Police," and in half a minute a policeman captured the prisoner—I cannot say what became of the other men—I was nearly strangled, and could not speak at first—I can swear to the prisoner as the man who had me by the throat—he was in front of me, opposite my face, and I could see him.
Prisoner. You said on the morning I was locked up, that you could not swear to me, and therefore they locked you up; you said that you would give your word that you would prosecute me, and then they lot you go. Witness. They locked me up till I gave bail to prosecute him.
JAMES BAYLIS (Policeman, F 85). On 9th November, early in the morning, I was on duty in plain clothes, in Holborn, and saw the prosecutor, and six or seven others four or five paces behind him, keeping the same pace, which made me suspicious—they followed him from Weston's musichall not quite half-way to the fire-engine house—I saw the prisoner step out from the group, catch hold of Mr. Rosser by the back of his neck, and throw him on the ground—three or four of his companions fell on top of him—I ran up as quick as I could, but before I got up one of them called out, "Lammas," which means to get away—when I got to the prosecutor they had all left him—I ran past two or three of them to catch the prisoner as I thought he was the principal one—he ran across Holborn, and half-way up Dean-street, when he dropped into a walk—one of his companions called out, "Look out, Boney," and I laid hold of his collar—I had not lost sigh of him from the time he threw the gentleman down and fell with hin.—took him in custody, and he said, "It was not me, it was not me; why do not you take some of the others?"—I had made no charge against him—I said, "Never mind, you must come back to the gentleman," and took him back—Mr. Roster had then got np, and the waterman was assisting him—the prisoner said, going to the station," I know there are a good many garotte robberies about, and as you have got me, I suppose I shall have to suffer for it"—he is the only one who was taken.
Prisoner. He says that I laid hold of the man behind the neck, and the prosecutor says I was in front, and this was in Holborn, and I was taken in Dean-street, so he must have lost sight of me. Witness. I did not; I was only three yards behind you all the way—Mr. Rower could see you when he was on the ground—when I brought you back he said, "That is the man who laid hold of me."
HARRY SPENCEE . I am a hackney carriage attendant—on 9th November, about a quarter-past 1 in the morning, I was on duty in Holborn, and saw Mr. Rosser pass, and walk down towards Holborn-hill—there were seven or eight men about six paces behind him, following him up close—the prisoner was one of them—he was a little in front of the rest, and just as he got opposite Hughes', the truss maker's shop, the prisoner went up and seized Mr. Rosser by the neck, and threw him agaiast the shutter—he fell, and some of the others fell on him—the constable ran up, one of them called out something, and they all ran away—I picked the gentleman up—he complained of his throat being hurt, and while I was talking to him the constable came back with the prisoners, and they all went to the station.
Prisoner's Defence. I never saw this man till the Monday morning, when the policeman and he got saying something to get a case up against me, I am innocent, I have only been five months home from India, where I have been serving the Queen, since which I have been at work for a brace-maker, Six or seven boys, not men, surrounded the prosecutor; they were all smaller than me, I crossed over, and he laid hold of me; I never resisted, and never said anything to him, I am discharged through being in a consumption, and am spitting blood, I am too weak and sickly to do such a thing, I have a mother eighty years of age to maintain.
COURT to JOHN ROSSER. Q. What was stolen from you? A. 1l. 17s.—some of it was in my waistcoat-pocket; the silver was loose in my trousers pocket—I had no purse—both my pockets were turned out—my throat was squeezed so that I could not call out or speak, and I have been constantly spitting blood till last week, which I never did before.
JAMES BAYLIS re-examined. I searched the prisoner, and found 1d. and a key on him—he ran across Holborn, and I was not above a yard and a half behind him, when he turned into Dean-street—I did not lose sight of him for a second—I was fifteen or sixteen yards from him when they made the cry, and all ran away—I was not more than four or five yards from him when he began to run, and was never more than four yards from him—I am quite positive he is one of the persons attacking—he was down when I first saw him, and holding the man by the neck on the ground.
Dudley and Roland, two City-policemen, stated that the prisoner had twice had three months' imprisonment for an assault, with intent to rob, in December, 1857, at Bow-street; and in October, 1858, at Guildhall, and that he was the constant associate of thieves and burglars; that he afterwards enlisted and went abroad, but returned in June.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM JOHN NORTHCOTT . I am a tailor, of Chapel-street, Lambs Conduit-street—on 12th November, about 3 o'clock in the morning, I was in Long Acre, on my way home, and saw three men coming towards me—I know the two prisoners on this side (Mowatt and Allen) but not the farthest one—I made way for them to pass, and received a blow from that one (Mowatt) on my head—I fell, and received a kick on my chin from the same man who knocked me down—Allen attempted to pull my hand out of my pocket, but I struggled with him and received a kick—I called "Police!" and they ran—Allen was last—I ran after him, and he was taken close to me when the policeman came up.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLINGSWORTH, (For Mowatt). Q. Where had you been? A. I had spent part of the evening with a friend, at 17, Eaton-street, Pimlico—I left there about half an hour before it happened, and had walked through the park—I supped with my friend—I drank a glass or two of half-and-half, but no spirits whatever—I took nothing on my way home—I saw no public-house open—I was quite sober—I was not walking very fast—I made way for the men to pass me—I did not notice any lamps about there—I saw three men coming towards me—it was done in passing—I know that I received a blow from the tallest which knocked me down, and then he kicked me—I feel positive it was the same man, because he separated himself from the others—I saw Mowatt next day at Bow-street
In Custody, and there were about twelve more men round him, and I was told to go and see if I could identify any one—I said that it was the tall man standing in the corner—I told that to the policeman outside.
Cross-examintd by MR. BEST, (For Allen). Q. I understand your attention was directed towards the one who kicked you? A. Towards the three when I fell forward—I called "Police" once, and then I received a kick on the mouth—when I got on my feet, two were running away and one was struggling with me to get my hand out of my pocket—the policeman came up immediately—no other person came up.
Sherrif. Q. Did you ever see me in your life till you saw me at Bow-street? A. Not to my knowledge.
COURT. Q. You never lost sight of Allen? A. No; before the man who was rifling me got out of my sight he was taken by the policeman—the other two got clear away.
EDWARD MCBRIDE (Policeman). On the morning of 12th November, I was on duty and heard a cry of "Police" about 3 o'clock—I ran to the spot, and saw two men going away from the last witness, who said that they had knocked him down and tried to rob him—I ran after them, and came up with Allen about two hundred yards off—I gave him in charge of another constable, and ran after Mowatt—I did not lose sight of him from the time he left the prosecutor till I took him—I only saw those two—I knew Mowatt when I ran after him—I have seen him repeatedly on the Dials, and I saw his face and could not be mistaken in him—there was a lamp at the corner, and I saw his face as he turned the corner, as I was taking out my rattle and springing it—I pursued Mowatt, but he got away from me in Nottingham-court.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLINGSWORTH. Q. I understand Mowatt ran away before you got up to the prosecutor? A. They were running away just as I came round the corner—their backs were turned to me as I came up—I was ten yards from Mowatt at the furthest, and that was the nearest I got to him—his back was turned to me, except when just turning the corner, and that was all I saw of his face.
Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. How far were you from the prosecutor when you heard the cry? A. About two hundred yards—I ran very quickly up—I came out of another street—it is about two hundred yards from the corner of Russell-street to Long Acre—as soon as I had run twenty yards I had a full view of the prosecutor and the men—Allen was running when I saw him first—I only saw two men running, but a third man, if there was one, had an opportunity of going down a turning there—Allen was the nearest to me—when I took him I did not stop, but handed him to somebody else, and rushed after the other.
COURT. Q. Did you stop with him long enough to identify him? A. I just gave him over—I knew him—I had seen him in Mo watt's company on the Dials previous to that.
JOHN MATTHEWS (Police-sergeant). At a little before 3 on the morning of the 12th, I was passing from Langley street into Long Acre, and saw Mowatt and Allen pass the end of the street, running—I knew them both—the prisoners are the men—I hastened into Long Acre, where I saw McBride running after them—I followed, and saw him take Allen, and hand him over to another constable—I followed down Endell-street, and McCloyne followed him into Castle-street—I went to the other end of Nottingham-court, thinking he would come out there, but I lost sight of him—he was running very fast—I did not see the third man.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLINGSWORTH. Q. I understand Mowatt ran away before you got up to the prosecutor? A. They were runing away just as I came round the corner—their backs were turned to me as I came up—I was ten yards from Mowatt at the furthest, and that was the nearest I got to him—his back was turned to me, except when just turning the corner, and that was all I saw of his face.
Cross-examined by Mr. BEST. Q. How far were you from the prosecutor when you heard the cry? A. About two hundred yards—I ran very quickly up—I came out of another street—it is about two hundred yards from the corner of Russell-street to Long Acre—as soon as I had run twenty yards I had a full view of the prosecutor and the men—Allen was running when I saw him first—I only saw two men running, but a third man, if there was one, had an opportunity of going down a turning there—Allen was the nearest to me—when I took him I did not stop, but handed him to somebody else, and rushed after the other.
COURT. Q. Did you stop with him long enough to identify him? A. I just gave him over—I knew him—I had seen him in Mowatt's company on the Dials previous to that.
JOHN MATTHEWS (Police-sergeant). At a little before 3 on the morning of the 12th, I was passing from Langley-street into Long Acre, and saw Mowatt and Allen pass the end of the street, running—I knew them both—the prisoners are the men—I hastened into Long Acre, where I saw McBride running after them—I followed, and saw him take Allen, and hand him over to another constable—I followed down Endell-street, and McCloyne followed him into Castle-street—I went to the other end of Nottingham-court, thinking he would come out there, but I lost sight of him—he was running very fast—I did not see the third man.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLINGSWORTH. Q. Is Langley-street to the north of Long Acre? A. Yes; the lower part of it is rather dark, but I was within twenty yards of the top of the street where it comes into Long Acre—it was not dark just at that part, but there is a dark part lower down—there are four or five lamps at the end of the street; two at a public-house at the end, and two at a public-house on the other side—the nearest lamp is some twenty yards from where I met these men—there were two lights in front of the men as they came up Long Acre, as there is a public-house there—I was going up Langley-street—I got within fifteen yards of Mowatt—his back was towards me when I was pursuing him, and I never saw his face again till I saw him in custody the same day—I saw McCloyne pursuing Mowatt—he was close behind him—within ten yards of him.
Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. Had the prosecutor got beyond the end of the street? A. I did not see the prosecutor at all.
WILLIAM ACKRILL (Policeman, F 48). On the morning of 12th November, I received information of this attempted robbery, and a description—I went in search of Mowatt, and found him at 8, Green-court, St James's, on the second floor front in bed—I awoke him, and told him I must take him for being concerned, with Donovan and Allen, in knocking a gentleman down in Long Acre early this morning—he said, "All right; I will go quietly; but do not show me up"—it was then between 12 and 1 in the day—I searched the room, and between the mattress and the bed, found this life-preserver, this jemmy, and eight skeleton keys—he went quietly to the station—I took Sheriff at 10 o'clock on the same evening, and told him the charge—he said, "All right;" and I took him to the station—I saw the three prisoners together in Cromer-street, Russell-square, about 8 o'clock on the night of the robbery, about three-quarters of a mile from the spot.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLINGSWORTH. Q. Did Mowatt go quite quietly with you? A. Yes; I had two or three officers with me.
COURT. Q. Did you know where Mowatt lived? A. Yes; but it was alter 10 o'clock before I had information of the robbery, and I knew he had two places where he lives at times—I went to one of his addresses at once
WILLIAM GORDON (Policeman, A 323). On the morning of the 12th, I was in St. Martin's-lane, and saw the three prisoners with a woman, named Mitchell, at ten minutes past 2 o'clock—they came into St. Martin's lane from Long Acre, and turned the corner; I lost sight of them in Long Acre, fifty-eight paces from where the robbery was committed—I have measured it since—I said a hundred yards at the police-court.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLINGSWORTH. Q. Were there any other persons with the prisoners? A. A woman, named Mitchell, who is always with Mowatt—she was not in prison at that time, but she has been since sent to prison for assaulting Mowatt's wife, a most respectable woman—it was about twenty yards from Long Acre.
Cross-examined by MR. BEST. Q. Did you see Allen after that? A. No.
Sherriff. You never saw me after ten minutes past 2. Witness. No; I looked at your face, and you wheeled about as if you were drunk, but I believe you were not.
THE COURT considered that there was no evidence against SHERRIFF.
NOT GUILTY . MOWATT and ALLEN GUILTY .
Mowatt was further charged with having been before convicted of burglary at this Court in November, 1857, by the name of James Moore, after a previousconviction; (See vol 47, page 87) when he was sentenced to six years' penal servitude; to which he
Police-constables 95 E and 12 E, stated that Mowatt served four years and six months of his sentence, and that he was convicted in February, 1856, of stealing a gold watch from the person, with two others, and sentenced to twelve months' imprisonment, and he had also been convicted of an attempt at burglary in Pall Mall. Sergeant Holmes stated that Mowatt had been the constant companion of convicted thieves ever since his return from penal servtude; William Ackrill stated that Allen was tried at this Court in September, 1860, for highway robbery and acquitted, and that he had also had three months from Marlborough-street, and three months at Westminster Police-court for attempting to enter a house with skeleton keys.
MOWATT.— Twenty Years' Penal Servitude.
ALLEN.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES WHITMAN . I am a general dealer, of 4, Curtain-place, Camden Town—about half-past 11 o'clock on Saturday night, 1st November, I was driving a pony and cart near the Gipsy Queen public-house, Kentish town, behind another cart—Joseph Crisp and Pratt came up to me—I am sure they are the men—they asked me if I had seen a dog—I said, "No"—they went and stopped Wright's cart which w as before me—they got down, told him to go on, and then said to me, "Where is the dog?"—I said that I did not know what dog they meant—Pratt struck a blow on the side of my head, which knocked me down between some dirt where some houses were building—they each struck me—they struggled with me a few minutes, and a third man then came out of a turning, that was Thomas Crisp—I am sure he is the man—the one on this side told me to go up farther—I did so, and they kicked me on the back—I had then got up again—they kicked me again, and said, "You b—, take that to Hampstead"—they all three than threw me down, and tried to forage my pockets, but I buttoned them up, and my coat also—I had 15s. in my pocket, as far as I recollect—they did not get that—I halloed "Harder" and 'Police," and somebody came up and attacked them, and picked me up—they left me senseless, and when I came to they had gone away.
COURT. Q. Did you know them before? A. I know them by sight, but did not know where to find them, or how they got their living—I was not in company with Wright—I was out with some cabbagee—I had no watch, only a key—I hindered them from robbing me by struggling with them—they rolled me about in the dirt, and I rolled with them—I felt them try to put their hands in my pocket—they foraged round me—they had their hands here, and could not get then out again.
CHRISTOPHER WRIGHT . I am a greengrocer of 2, Cirous-row, Kentish-town—on Saturday, 1st November, I was going along Maldon-road with my cart, and saw Whitman walking on the pavement—I saw George Pratt and Crisp—they asked me if I had got a dog in my cart—I said, "No"—Pratt said, "I shall b—y well look before you go any further"—he got on the wheel, looked in the cart, and said, "You can go on"—when my cart stopped, Whitman's horse stopped, and he went up to it—I then went home, and did not see Whitman or his pony again—it was about one hundred and fifty yards from where I live—soon after I got home, I heard cries of
"Murder" and "Police"—I went out, and saw Whitman about one hundred yards from my house, lying between two heaps of dirt—Thomas Crisp walked away from him directly I went up—I saw nothing of the others—there was only a boy standing there when I went up—no policeman came.
Thomas Crisp. Q. Whereabouts was this? A. Opposite Brewer's shop, by the "Gipsy Queen."
Pratt. I lost a little dog, and asked him if he had got it—he said, "No, and we went into the "Gipsy Queen" again. Where the row was, was nearer the "Gospel Oak." Witness. No, you stopped me near the "Gipsy Queen"
COURT. Q. Do you know the men? A. Yes—I have known them these two years—I knew their names, and where they lived—they are labouring men in that neighbourhood—they sometimes work at the gas factory.
Pratt's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"The constable sent us away when we came out of the "Gipsy Queen"—there were twenty or thirty fighting together—we saw Wright, but the prosecutor we never saw at all.
Thomas Crisp's Defence. I went into the "Gipsy Queen" to a concert, about a quarter before 10, and never was outside the house again till they shut the doors.
Joseph Crisp's Defence. I went into the "Gipsy Queen" at a quarter to 10; a man stood outside with a horse and cart; we went in, and there were twenty or thirty fighting outside. The policeman told us to go home, and we did so, over the fields.
Pratt's Defence. We were all three together, and went home together.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN MANNING . I live at 113, Gray's-inn-lane—on Saturday evening, 8th November, between 9 and 10 o'clock, I was coming through Fox-court with my daughter Emily Doyle, and saw two women and a man walking from Leather-lane towards me—I had never seen them before—I made as much haste as I could through Fox-court, and one of the women hit me behind and before, and nearly throttled me—they pulled my shawl off, and ran away—I cannot identify them, but my daughter can—I very nearly feinted, and was very much hurt—I went home, and went to bed.
Prisoner. I have witnesses here to prove that I never went out of my own door that night; the policeman saw me at my door at 10 o'clock, and afterwards the city night-policeman spoke to me at my door. I was taken out of bed at five minutes to 6 o'clock. When she came into my room in the evening, she said that I was not the woman. Witness. No, I said that I could not identify you, but my daughter did—I was hurt on my chest, and I got a kick behind.
EMILY DOYLE . I am the wife of Alfred Doyle—I was in Fox-court with my mother—the prisoner came behind her, gave her a violent blow, took her shawl, and ran away—there was a man and woman with her, who also ran away—my mother nearly fainted—I had to assist her home, and put her
to bed—I described the person, to G 52, and about 4 o'clock in the morning he took me to a house in Holborn-buildings, where I saw the prisoner, and identified her instantly—my mother had last another shawl a fortnight previously, in Greville-street—it was stolen off her back in a similar manner.
Prisoner. Q. Did you ever see my face till you saw me in bed? A. Yes, I did—you struck my mother.
COURT. Q. Did you ever see the prisoner before? A. Not till that night—I was taken to 13, Holborn-buildings—the prisoner was in bed, and was pointed out to me as the person I was to look at, and I recognised her instantly.
STEPHEN WADE (Policeman, G 252). From a description I received from Mrs. Doyle I took her to Holborn-buildings—the prisoner was shown to her, and she said that she was the party who stole the shawl from her mother.
Prisoner. Q. Who sent you to my place; you do not know me? A. I do—I have known you some time.
COURT. Q. How soon did you get information? A. At 4 o'clock on Sunday morning—that was the first complaint they made—the described the woman—I knew her about the court, and a city policeman took them to 13, Holborn-buildings—the women said that she was pale complexioned, with rather a cast in her eyes, a peculiar look, and they described how she was dressed—I could find no other pale complexioned woman with a cast in her eye in thai neighbourhood.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing of the shawl.
COURT to EMILY DOTLE. Q. Why did not you go to the police till 4 o'clock? A. Because my mother was too ill for me to leave.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID MOSEDALE . I am a furniture dealer of 12, Weston-place, Penton-ville—on 26th October, at a little after 8 in the evening, I was in Cowcross-street, and saw some boys facing Booth's distillery—I felt a tug at my arm, and thinking it was somebody who knew me, I looked that way, and was pinioned against a post the other way—the prisoner then came and dragged my chain from me, but it was too strong, and he gave two or three snatches before it gave way—it then gave way at the ring, and my watch went—I caught hold of the chain, held it fast, and kept it—they then threw me on the ground, and escaped—I saw three run away—I followed them, and saw the prisoner's face—I know him, because he came quite close to me, under the lamp—I gave a description of him that evening at the police-station—I went a week afterwards, and could not identify the person, and in a fortnight I was taken to the Clerkenwell police-court, saw a number of persons assembled, and identified the prisoner the moment I got in.
Cross-examined by MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS. Q. How far from the crowd of boys was this? A. Six or seven yards—there was another gateway prior to getting there—my arms were pinioned from behind—I do not remember anything being said about curly hair when I picked the prisoner out.
COURT. Q. Were you hurt? A. No—I was thrown down on my right side and right arm—when I seized the chain, they threw me down, and ran away.
November in Parliament-street, Westminster, and charged him with being concerned with two others not in custody in stealing a watch from a person in Turnmill-street, on 26th October—he said, "Very well, I will go quiet; let us go the back way"—he was put with others—the prosecutor was sent for, and was told to see if he could see any one he knew—he went immediately to the prisoner, and said, "You are the man who stole my watch"—the prisoner said, "Very well, if you say so I will suffer for it."
Cross-examined. Q. Did he describe the prisoner as a man with curly hair? A. He did not describe him to me, to the inspector—I did not speak to the prosecutor till after the prisoner was charged.
The officer Harrill stated that the prisoner had been several times convicted of felony, and had been the constant associate of thieves for the last five years.
Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
PHILIP LEVINE . I live at 25, Wellesley-street, Stepney, and am a cigar maker—on 15th November, about 12 at night, I was in the Commercial road, going home, and saw the prisoner standing against the door of Phillip's Music Hall—she asked me how I was—I said, "First rate"—I then looked at a seaman who was intoxicated, and then turning round I saw the prisoner speaking to a man—I made my way across the road—she followed me, and I told her to leave me—I saw her whispering to the man, and I crossed the road again, and told her to leave me, and go to her male companion—she caught me by my cape, and with a loud cry called out, "Give me my money"—that took me off my guard for a moment, and she caught at my watch—she kept me by my cape—two gentlemen were passing, and would have nothing to do with it—I called out "Police," and she called out with a loud voice "Jem"—Jem made his appearance—he was about thirty yards from me—I saw him speak to her, but an officer came up—the prisoner then said, "The gentleman has had connection with me"—that is not true.
ROBERT STEWART (Policeman, A 499). On the night of 15th November, I heard cries of "Police" in the Commercial-road—I went up, and found the prisoner struggling with the prosecutor—I went to lay hold of her—she ran across the road—I ran after her, stopped her, and said, "What are you about?"—she said, "I want my money"—I said, "What for?"—she said, "He has had connection with me down the street"—the prosecutor said, "Do protect me, do"—he was very much excited, and his face was scratched—I saw two persons near, but they went on—I saw no man, but there was plenty of opportunity for one to get away—it was about 12 at night—there were not many people about—I took the prisoner in custody.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:"I met him outside Phillip's, and he walked with me some distance, and took me down a street, and had connection with me. I asked him for the money, he told me to get away, and pushed me off the pavement. I tore his coat, and he kicked me; my foot is swelled now. He said he was going to get change, and wanted to run away."
The prisoner in her defence repeated her former statement.
COURT to ROBERT STEWART. Q. Was she searched at the station? A. Yes, but no money was found upon her.
GUILTY of the attempt to rob.— Confined Twelve Months.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, November 28th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. Ald. GIBBONS and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
PLEADED GUILTY .—Several other convictions were proved against the prisoner.
Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. GIFFARD conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID MAPLESON . I am chief of the audit-office of the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway Company—the prisoner was in the service of the, Company, and had been so, I should say, about three months—he had to register what we call the excess baggage, principally that which we forward to the continent—the sheets are printed in duplicate—on the extreme right he enters the number of passengers, the number of packages, and the excess, weight, which is the weight of the passengers' baggage over that which is allowed by the Company; and in the next column he enters the amount charged for that excess weight—the number applies not only to the excess, but to the whole number and the whole weight, the net weight that is charged for—the number is the whole number, and the weight is only the excess weight—this sheet (produced) is in the prisoner's handwriting—it is number 332, filled up by the prisoner—this is his own duplicate, which is afterwards sent to my office—it ought to be an exact copy of the ticket given to the guard—the way bill and the passenger's ticket show, weight, 200lbs. charge 30s., while his own duplicate leaves those columns in blank—those columns being left blank in the return made to my office would indicate that there was no excess weight and no charge—the passenger's ticket and the guard's way bill correspond exactly—this (produced) is the book for Paris and Calais, which it was the prisoner's duty to keep—this sheet numbered 332 is his writing—that does not show any sum charged for excess luggage—if he had received any sum charged for excess luggage in respect of this number it was his duty to eater it in this book—there are two other sums received on that same day for excets by two other trains, 9s. in one case, and 4s. 6d. in the other—the total of those two sums is made up at the end of the next day, Sunday, the 28th, with 9s. more received on that day—the total is 1l. 2s. 6d.—he had tickets which properly account for those three sums—there is "No, 347, 2 passengers, 3 packages, 56 lbs. excess weight, charge 9s."—the next is "No, 354, 1 passenger, 1 baggage, 28lbs. excess weight, 4s. 6d."—on Sunday, 28th,"No. 370, 1 passenger, 3 packages, 56lbs. excess weight, 9s.—those are exact specimens of what they all ought to be, the ticket of the passenger, the ticket of the guard, and that book—the duplicate of this sheet 361 (produced), on the 28th, is the prisoner's handwriting—it is, "No. 361, 1 passenger, 5 packages, 392lbs. excess weight, and 58s. 6d. received"—in the book, "1 passenger, 5 packages, and no excess weight or amount"—No. 389, on 29th, is all in the prisoner's handwriting—on the duplicate there is "2 passengers, 3 baggages, no weight, no amount"—on the guard's bill, and on the ticket given to the
passengers, there is "2 passengers, 3 baggages, and 130lbs. excess weight, 19s. 6d."—the book corresponds exactly with the duplicate, "2 passengers, 3 baggages, no weight, no amount"—this is the book in which he takes the receipt of the money handed to the chief clerk, and the sums entered in it amount to 1l. 2s. 6d.—no credit is given for those three sums mentioned—he also handed 1l. 4s. over on the 28th, in addition to the 1l. 2s. 6d. for other baggages to Calais—it is brought forward from the Calais book—there is an account in the Calais book showing where he received that 1l. 4s. from—that is a correct addition of the sums he received for Calais luggage.
Cross-examined by MR. F. H. LEWIS. Q. The prisoner had been about two or three mouths in the Company's service, I believe? A. Yes; he is seventeen years of age, and son of Lieutenant Colonel Beckham, who distinguished himself in the Peninsular War, I believe—the guard's ticket and the passenger's ticket would come back to the audit-office—they would give notice to the Company of what was the excess of weight, and what was the amount received—he ought to have made out a sort of check for himself—he would enter the amount, weight, &c. from the duplicate into the book—if it were wrong in the duplicate, and copied from there faithfully, it would be wroug in the book—that book is called the "Continental luggage-book," and from that book it was his duty to enter into another book, the small cash-book—that is merely a statement of the totals—there was a drawer for the money which he received, in the prisoner's office—I don't know whether there were other clerks who used to put money in the same drawer—I cannot undertake to say that it was not so—there were usually two luggage clerks—there may have been three on one or two occasions, but very seldom indeed—they would not have the same duty as the prisoner at the same time—they would assist him—I don't think three ever were in the office at the same time—I should imagine if they received money for the luggage it would be their duty to put it in the till as well—the prisoner would make the ticket out for the sum received, whether he had it or not—it was his duty to make out the duplicate—he would not make out the passengers, the number of packages, and the excess of weight, and leave it to the person who received the money to put in the amount, certainly not—he would make out the whole of the ticket, notwithstanding he had not received the money, although he might have seen it paid—one would make out one part of the bill and one the other, but it is impossible to know how they would arrange it—all No. 332 is the prisoner's handwriting, and the duplicate—I cannot say whether he received that 30s. or whether one of the clerks who assitsted him did; and the other sum, the second charge in the indictment, would come under the same head—there are a great number of persons come in about the same time to have their luggage weighed, when we are busy—we were not busy at this time—the latter end of September we were doing very little business in fact—even if there was no excess the prisoner would have to give tickets if the passengers wished their luggage registered—I should say the proportion of persons of those who did pay excess to those who did not would be about ten to one, or not so many as that; and if the ten passengers wished their luggage marked and registered, it would still be the prisoner's duty to do it—I have heard of cases of passengers who are dishonest enough to go away without paying at all—in those cases the ticket would be made out in the same way, but he would not hand it to the passenger unless he received the money.
Q. I mean where the ticket has been handed to the passenger, and he has gone away? A. An intelligent clerk would never allow himself to be cheated
in that way—we have pointed out some sums to the prisoner as having been omitted—his attention has been directed to them by the proper authority, and the money handed over.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Just take those green tickets in your hand again; do those show every ticket issued by the prisoner, whether there is excess laggage charged on them or not? A. Yes; when there is excess—there are twenty-one registered to Paris on 27th, three by the 7 A.M. train, which is the one in respect of which the complaint is made on 27th and 28th—the whole of the vouchers on that occasion are made out by the prisoner—I have known such a case as a clerk in the office writing one part of the ticket, and he the other—the person who was receiving the money would know what sum to charge, by the weight being called out to him through the window—according to the ordinary course of practice the person who is in the office taking the weight on the ticket is the person who also receives the money—I know of no one assisting the prisoner on 37th, 28th, or 29th—I know Berlin assisted him on 28th—the prisoner proffessed to account every day—the omissions that I speak of were small sums that we were able to discover had been omitted—in than cases we had no means—those small sums amounted in the month to about 3l. 10s.—we have a travelling auditor who goes to different stations when he thinks proper—whatever the prisoner's excuse was, it was accepted at the time—we discover it when we go through the accounts, and after the tickets are sent to us; that is how we discovered it—the tickets are returned to us for that purpose, from France, and we return theirs in the same manner—six passengers took tickets on 28th, by the 7 o'clock train, and five on the 29th—the prisoner would have to attend to the local passengers, but not to passengers for Paris—I know by that book how many the local patseigers are—when luggage is over the weight allowed, then it is excess weight, and it is charged—there were two local passengers on 27th who were excessed, none on 28th, and none on 29th—there is no system of registeration unless there is excess.
EMMANUEL BERLIN . I am interpreter to the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway Company—on Sunday, 28th September, I was requested by Mr. Stoddart, the station-master, to issue tickets—the prisoner had not arrived; he was late that morning—the moment I entered the place he came in—one passenger came with a courier for a lady and gentleman who were going to Paris by the next train—I made out the package-ticket and the guard's way-bill—I have it here—it is my handwriting—the prisoner gave it to the courier—he laid down three sovereigns, the prisoner took them up, and gave him 1s. 6d. change.
COURT. Q. Did you make out all three, the guard's bill, the passenger's duplicate, and the ticket? A. Yes; I made out one sheet and the prisoner the other—he made out his own check.
GUILTY .—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Judgment Repited.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
IVAN RICE . I am in the employment of Messrs. Kerry, linendrapers, of Bishopsgate-street—on 6th November, about 7 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner entered the shop—she first asked for a reel of cotton, which I got—she then asked for some quilling—I brought her what I had—she said it did not suit, but she would buy some ribbon, and quill it herself—I them showed her some ribbon, and she asked me to cut off two yards, which I
did—she then picked out another width, and asked for two yards of that—I was in the act of measuring it when I saw her take from the drawer a piece of black ribbon and conceal it under her shawl—this is it (produced)—the value of it is 9s.—it has got our private mark on it—Mr. Grinstead was standing by my side the whole time, and saw it all—he said to her, "Let me look at that piece of ribbon you have under your shawl"—she said, "You're mad"—he then lifted up her shawl, and the piece of ribbon dropped on the counter—Mr. Grinstead said to me, "You see it all," and I said, "Yes"—I went for a constable myself—I had not cut the last ribbon—the four yards of ribbon and the cotton would have come to 11 1/2 d.—I did not see any money in the prisoner's hand, nor did I see her drop any—I did not look in the shop near the spot where she was.
Cross-examined by MR. ORRIDGE. Q. You thought it was quite sufficient to see a piece of ribbon dropped? A. I did—I did not see if she had dropped anything else—I had not finished serving her—I was standing quite opposite to her, and Mr. Grinstead close by me—I do not know the prisoner at all—I did not know that she had a husband and family till I went to the Mansion-house—I was ordered by Mr. Grinstead to get a constable directly—nothing was said to her by me—I believe this case is prosecuted by the Society for the Prosecution of Shoplifters.
JAMES GRINSTEAD . I am a member of the firm of Kerry and Grinstead, carrying on business in Bishopsgate-street—I remember the prisoner coming to my shop on the evening of 6th November—I was present when she asked for some cotton and ribbon—whilst the shopman was serving her I saw her looking at the ribbons, and she took hold of a narrow piece of ribbon; that excited my suspicions, it struck me that was not the colour she wanted, or the width—she took it up a second time, and put it down, and took up the wide piece with her finger, and put it under her arm—this is it—it is my property—I leant over the counter and said, "You have got a piece of my ribbon"—she said, "Oh, my God! I have not," and she stepped back and put it down—that was all that took place between us, no further conversation—I sent for a policeman and gave her into custody—I did not see her drop any money—I looked in the shop for some time afterwards.
Cross-examined. Q. This is your first appearance in this case, is it not? A. Yes—I have not been examined before—I came by the advice of the Society for Prosecuting Shoplifters—I was standing quite opposite this woman—it did not occur to me to say anything to her—I have given you a correct account of what she said.
MR. PATER. Q. Were you occupied at all with anything? A. I was measuring a piece of ribbon at the same time.
WILLIAM WREFORD (City-policeman, 54). I apprehended the prisoner in the shop—she gave a false name and address—she denied stealing the ribbon—she said, "I am not guilty of the offence I am charged with"—I am not positive whether she said, "of the offence" or not—she said, "I did not steal the ribbon"—Mr. Grinstead said, "I charge her with stealing this piece of ribbon," and the young man said, "I saw the woman take it from the box, and conceal it uuder her shawl"—she denied the charge—I can't exactly remember the words she used—she gave her name and address at the station-house, "Mary Bignold, 27, James-street, Bethnal-green"—I went there—there is no such number in the street—I could find no such number in James-street—I knew nothing of her before this.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear her say afterwards that she lived at 10l, Eyre-street, Bethnal-green, opposite the Apollo Music-hall? A. No, nothing was said at the station-house about that.
COURT. Q. Was she searched? A. She was, and sixpence halfpenny found upon her—I did not search her—the female searcher is in Court.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LILLIY. conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HODGES . I live at 8, Worship-street, Finsbury, and am a carriage washer, in the employment of Mary Ann Wright, a widow—she keeps livery stables at 10, North's buildings, Finsbury-circus—on 23d October last about a quarter-past 7 in the morning, I was in the yard dressing Mr. Carson's horses—he had a phaeton or waggonet then in the yard—the prisoner came into the yard at that time—I had not known him before—he first went to one of my fellow-servants, and he sent him to me—he said he came from Mr. Mason's for Mr. Carson's phaeton—I knew Mr. Mason; he is a coach-builder—I pulled the phaeton from the coach-house to the harness-room door, took out all the cushions, and was going to take out the lamps, when the prisoner said, "No, you had better leave them in, as the near lamp-iron is strained"—he said he was going to take it to Mr. Mason's, the coach-builder's, to have something done to the shackle-bolts—the shackle-bolts and spring-bolts are the same things—I made the remark that I did not think there was anything wanted doing to them—he made no answer to that—I allowed him to take the phaeton out of the yard, because he said he came from Mr. Mason—I believed what he said—I left the lamps in—the prisoner was alone—he was wearing a cap at the time.
Prisoner. Q. Will you swear I am the man? A. Yes; I believe you to be the man—I won't swear that you have the same clothes on now, as you had then—it was a light striped cap—I did not say at the police-court, I did not suppose you were the man—I said I believed you were the man—I believe the policeman asked me what kind of a cap it was—I told him I thought it was a striped one—he then went and fetched the cap and put it on your head, and I said, "You are the man"—I then asked him to put it on one side of your head, that is so—this (produced) it similar to the one you had on—it is a striped cap—it has been washed.
MR. LEWIS. Q. When did you see the prisoner again? A. Next morning at the police-station, in custody—I picked him out from several others.
Prisoner. Q. What sort of man did you say I was, short or tall? A. I put you at about five feet or five feet five inches—there were different sized men with you—I can't say whether they were policemen or not—they were in plain clothes—some were five feet ten inches in height, some six feet, and so me not so tall as that.
THOMAS FOWLER . I live at 5, Queen's-square, Finsbury, and am a coachman, in the employment of Mr. Pholinea—hie carriage stands in Mrs. Wright's yard—I was there on 23d October, about a quarter to 7 in the morning, cleaning my master's harness—I knew Mr. Carton had a carriage of some sort standing at livery there—the prisoner came in and said he came from Mr. Mason for a phaeton picked out with red, belonging to Mr. Parson—I said, "There is no such name here," and he turned it off and said, "Well, Carson"—he had a cap on his head at that time—the prisoner is the man—I told him to go to the other end of the yard—Hodges was there—I afterwards saw him in front of the carriage, after it was pulled out—I merely said to him then, "I don't envy you your job, dragging it up to Mr. Mason's"—he was not dragging it at that time.
Prisoner. Q. What time in the morning was it when I spoke to you?
A. I should think about a quarter to 7—I can't swear to the coat you had on, but I think it was a darker one than you have now—this cap is stiffer than the one you had on—it was stiffer then than it is now—I saw you standing in between the shafts in front of the carriage—I know when you were first taken—I did not come up then, because I was not called.
GEORGE PAGE . I live at 65, Middlesex-street, Somers-town, and have been a cow-keeper—I have a shed at 50, Brill-row, close by—about a fortnight before 5th November, I saw the prisoner, and he asked me to allow him to put the body of a four-wheel chaise in my yard—he had not got it with him—I gave him leave to put it in the corner of the yard—I afterwards saw it—it was roughly painted a lead colour—Mr. Carson afterwards came to me, and I gave up the chaise to him in the condition in which I received it—when the prisoner came at first, he said he was making a four-wheel chaise—that he had made the body of it, and had not got room in the yard to make the under part of it, and would I allow him to put it in my yard.
Prisoner. Q. Did you know me? A. I never saw you before to my knowledge—the body of the carriage looked like a new one—I took it to be a new one roughly painted—there were about twenty walking round the yard when I came to identify you, only the turnkey came in with me—I picked you out.
GEORGE TERRY . I am assistant to Mr. William Henry Mason, a coach-builder, at Kingsland—I live at the factory, and have to manage the business—I know the prisoner—he has been in the employment of Mr. Mason; he left on 9th October, I think—it is within my knowledge that Mr. Mason built a phaeton or waggonet for Mr. Carson—it was at the latter part of 1859—it has been on our premises two or three times, or perhaps more, for repair, since it has been built—I don't think that was during the period that the prisoner was in Mr. Mason's employ—it might have been for repair when he was there—he has called at the factory since he left—on 23d October I gave no authority, nor was any authority given, to my knowledge, to fetch Mr. Carson's phaeton from Mrs. Wright's—it is my duty to give such orders on behalf of my employer—I gave no such order to the prisoner.
JAMES ALEXANDER CARSON . I am a merchant carrying on business in Great Winchester-street—my phaeton stood at livery at Mrs. Wright's, North's-buildings, Finsbury-circus—to the best of my knowledge my servent took it in on 22d late, and it was there on 23d—I had come from a late journey—I gave no authority whatever to the prisoner to remove my phaeton from Mrs. Wright's yard—on 4th November, from information I received, I went with the detective-officer Ball, to 3, Perry-terrace, Perry-street, Somers-town, and there saw the under carriage of my phaeton, which I recognised—it was found in the rooms occupied by the prisoner—I know that, he has admitted himself that he lived there—on the following Thursday I went to the premises of Mr. Page, in Brill-street, and there found the body, which I recognised as the body of my own phaeton—it had been painted lead colour since I last saw it, but on the door of the waggonet my initials were found—I identify this heel board (produced) as mine, and this key, which I kept in my pocket, fits the lock of it—I also swear to this shaft—I had an accident a short time ago, one of my horses fell down, and there is the crack still—this piece of iron holds it, that is how I identify it.
JOHN MARK BULL . I am a city-detective officer—on 4th November I accompanied Mr. Carson to 3, Perry-terrace, Somers-town, and there took possession of the under carriage of a phaeton, portions of which I produce—I did not find the prisoner there—about 5 o'clock in the evening he was
brought to Moor-lane station, by a metropolitan officer—I told the prisoner that I was a detective officer, and I had had his wife in custody that day for being found in possession of a portion of a phaeton, called a waggonet, which I found at No. 3, Perry-terrace, and I asked him if he lived there—he said, "Yes, I do, my wife is entirely innocent, she knows nothing at all about it, it was brought there two or three weeks ago by a Mr. Brown"—I asked him how it was brought—he said, "A pony was dragging it"—I asked if he knew what Mr. Brown was—he said, "In the coach-building line"—I said, "Where does he live, and when did he bring it?"—he said he did not know where Mr. Brown lived—I asked him if Mr. Brown brought anybody with it—he said he had nobody with it; he only had the under part to repair—I told him I should charge him on suspicion of obtaining a phaeton on 23d October, from Mrs. Wright's livery stables, 10, North-buildings, Finsbury—I searched him and found this cap in his hat—on the following morning I showed him, with several others, to the witnesses, Hodges and Fowler.
Prisoner's Defence. I was going out one morning, looking for work, at different livery stables, when I met this man Brown, accidentally—he said he expected a job, and said he would bring it round to my place; the next morning he brought this carriage, and said, "In three weeks' time I shall see you again, and the carriage will be all ready." I said, "Yes, it will.' He then said he was going down to Brighton. I had no idea it was stolen, or I should not have taken it on my premises.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, November 26th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. RECORDER, and Mr. Ald. GIBBONS.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JOSIAH THOROUGHGOOD . I am a police constable in the employ of the Great Northern Railway Company, at King's-cross—on the 10th November, at about a quarter-part 6 in the morning, I was standing opposite the Post-office, St. Martin's-le-Grand, with Samuel Adams—after watching I saw the prisoner, who is in the employ of the company, come up with his waggon—he then had three horses—the leading horse was taken off and led away by a boy towards the Bull and Mouth—I then saw the prisoner get on top of the baskets of fish, and pull out one from a basket, and throw it down between the other baskets—it required some effort to get it out—after this the boy returned, and they proceeded towards Billingsgate—I went there also, and saw the baskets unloaded—I then saw the waggon on its way back—I followed it into a part of Cannon-street, when it stopped, and the boy drove from Billingsgate, and then waited until the prisoner came—the prisoner got into the van and sat down, just underneath the boy—I saw him take up the fish—it was covered over with straw, which I had previously seen him do, at Billingsgate—previously to his taking it up, I saw him take this apron (produced) and spread it open—it is his apron—he tied the fish up in it, and tied it tightly round with this rope (produced)—I then followed them to the Bull and Mouth, where the boy got the leader horse—I then called the prisoner out of the van, and said I was an officer
belonging to the Great Northern, and that he had been Stealing some fish that morning—he got into the van; I followed him; and he took up the cloth with the fish in it, after I had told him where it was—he held it away—I said, "You must give it to me;" and he said, "I am going to take it back to the Cross"—I said, "I was going to take it"—he replied, "Never mind me; I am going to take it"—I attempted then to take it from him—he resisted violently—I saw a police officer on the opposite side of the street, and I called him—I then obtained the fish—that was the fish I saw taken out of the hamper.
Prisoner. Q. You said you saw me steal a cod-fish? A. No; it was a brill.
SAMUEL ADAMS . I was with the last witness in St. Martin's-le-Grand—whilst standing there I saw the prisoner come up—I saw the waggon stop and the leader horse taken off—I saw the prisoner try to get a fish out of the basket—he was trying it very hard; it was fastened in—I was on the opposite side; not so near as Thoroughgood—I saw the waggon on its return from Billingsgate—I did not see the fish until the last witness was in the van—I saw it taken possession of by him.
WILLIAM TANSEY (City-policeman, 403). On November 10th, Thoroughgood gave the prisoner into my custody for stealing some fish from a basket—he told me he was going to take the fish to the station at King's-cross—Thoroughgood said, "You stole that fish from a basket; I saw you"—prisoner said that he did not; he had found it in the van.
Prisoner's Defence. At half past 6 on the morning of the 10th I missed a cod-fish off the top of my van; I found it had shaken down between the baskets and barrels; I laid it on the head of one of the casks, and drove off to Billingsgate; I delivered my fish, and, when unloaded, I sent the van to Cannon-street; I then went to our office, opposite the market, and told them I had one basket of soles and a turbot, un-entered, in the van; the basket was directed to "Bell, James, and Co., fish-salesmen, Billingsgate;" the one fish, not addrsssed, it was my intention to take back to Kings-cross, so that the clerk in charge would be able to find out to whom it belonged; there are often baskets in a loose condition; this man told me he was a detective officer, and said he saw me take a cod-fish out of the basket; I said he did not; he got up in the van, and he found it was not a cod-fish; I told him I was going to take it back to the "Cross;" this man swears falsely, and I are innocent; the Great Northern had eight years' good character with me, and I have been with them six years.
CHARLES HEVERON . On the 10th November I checked all the fish upon this load that was taken out of the railway—the cod-fish was entered in the bill—there was no loose fish except that cod—I checked it all with the prisoner—the cod-fish is signed for as delivered.
Prisoner. Q. Were you out with the van when it was loaded? A. I was—I saw every basket put upon the van.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy on account of his good character.— Confined Twelve Months.
49. HUGO DULLENS (32) , Unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, from William Robinson; 100 yards of carpet and 12 rugs; and also unlawfully obtaining, by false pretences, from John Thackrah, 700 yards of cloth.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
proceedings in the bankruptey of the 24th June, 1859, against the prisoner—he is described as "Hugo Dullens, trading in partnership with William Grogan," as general merchants—he obtained his certificate under that bankruptey, on the 17th January, this year—I also produce the proceedings in the second bankruptey, of the 13th June, 1862—he is therein described as Hugo Dullens, only, a commission agent—he got his discharge under that bankruptcy on the 4th August, 1862—in the order of discharge he is described as "the said Hugo Dullens, also known as, and calling himself, William Murray"—he is nowhere in these proceedings described as carrying on business as Teed, Lister, and Co., or Walter Berthold—he has not, under the second bankruptcy, given his address as at 13, Little Britain, but of "8, St. James-road, Bermondsey, and formerly of 26, Park-street, and now a prisoner"—when he obtained his discharge, on the 14th August, he was released from the debtor's prison.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. How many creditors proved under the second bankruptcy? A. Not one—he was in custody at the suit of Ebenezer Paul, whose debt in the schedule is 30l. 18s. 4d.—there were also five detainers—these are the whole of the proceedings under the bankrupte—the creditors unsecured are 255l.; holding security, 206l.; liabilities on bills, 142l.—I cannot say whether there is any debt there, not included under the former bankruptcy—it does not give the dates, merely the months, 1859 to 1862—there is one debt in 1859—I cannot point out any debt incurred since the 17th January—there is a debt partly incurred in 1862—it does not give the month—it may have been the earlier part of January, when it would be correct to say 1862—as far as these proceedings show, the whole of the debts included under the second bankruptcy were incurred prior to the 13th of January—I think when he first came up from his release from prison a creditor opposed, but he did not appear afterwards—there was not a farthing of assets—I cannot speak positively to there being assets under the first bankruptcy; but I believe there was not a farthing.
COURT. Q. What was the amount of the debts? A. The separate debts there were 500l.; the joint debts with Grogan were 3,000l. and odd—Grogan was not bankrupt that I know of—I never saw him—the liabilities were 3,400l. which makes 6,400l.—the only assets were bad and doubtful debtors, 87l. and property in the hands of creditors, 126l.—I do not find among the creditors under the first bankruptcy, Mr. Cook, of Gresham-street—I do not see his name down in the balance-sheet there were three different balance-sheets filed by the bankrupt in his attempts to pass the Court—I do not know if there was a fire in Queen-street before he received his discharge and a claim made—I do not know whether the assignees made a claim against the Royal Insurauce Society—there is no such claim entered among the assets.
GEORGE SIMPSON . I am a bookbinder, of 14, Little Britain—I know the prisoner—he called upon me in May last—he took of me the warehouse, 13, Little Britain—he and another of the name of Lister came—the name put up was Teed, Lister, and Co.—the prisoner occupied the premises until he was taken into custody—on the inner door leading to the warehouse there was recently put" Walter Berthold and Co."—I knew no one at Walter Berthold—I did not know of any one except the prisoner and the person who came with him first—the person calling himself Lester came—I do not know what has become of him—I did not know the prisoner by the name of "Hugo Dullens" at all—I did not know he had been bankrupt until these proceedings—he gave me a cheque for 5l. on account of rent due at Miohaelmas,
which was honoured, and afterwards a cheque for 4l. 7s. 6d. the balance, which was returned (cheque produced)—it is dated 5th November, drawn upon T. B. Jones and Joseph Webster, 41, Bridge House-place, Newingtoncauseway—I paid the cheque into my account at my own bankers—I think it was given me about eight or ten days before the date it bears—it was dishonoured—I had asked him frequently for that money—it was due the 29th September.
MR. BESLEY. Q. What day was the prisoner arrested? A. I do not know—he continued to occupy part of the house until his arrest—I know he was taken from there—I think he was arrested the same day the cheque was due—I had not received the cheque back when he was arrested—I paid it in on the 5th, and it was returned to me on the 7th—he must have been arrested on the 6th; it was between my paying in the cheque and receiving it back—I had no reason whatever to suppose that the man who called himself Lister was not Lister—I have seen him since September, though I did not take any notice of the date, because I spoke to him about the rent—I have not seen him since the arrest of the prisoner—I spoke to Lister about the rent, I should think about a fortnight after the 29th September: it would be about the middle of October—I do not know whether letters came addressed for Berthold while the prisoner was occupying the premises—they would not come into my hands—I was at the next house, so I should not see any letters—Lister ordinarily attended there, I cannot say whether as often as the prisoner, but not recently, I think—up to the middle of October I was in the habit of seeing them both regularly—I never saw Berthold.
JOHN THACKRAH . I am an agent at 20, Lawrence-lane, for Messrs. Thaokrah, Brothers, of Leeds, wholesale warehousemen—I am a brother of their's—the prisoner came to my warehouse to buy goods, on 4th November—he was quite a stranger to me—he wanted some woollen goods, and he selected some—he gave me a card with "Walter Berthold and Co." on it—this card (produced) is like the one—he referred me to Mr. Marsh, an agent of Mr. Cook, in Graham-street, and to Messrs. Grant and Erwood, also in Gretham-street—I went to both those parties, and likewise to "Stubbs"'—I then agreed to let him have a parcel of goods—the amount was 114l. 10s. 4d. upon the terms to pay half cash, and the rest on our usual credit; to be paid on the 10th December—I sent the goods—I sent two boys with them with a pair of wheels—I went with the first lot of goods myself—I did not intend to part with them until I got the cash—I received this cheque for 50l. (produced)—I received it on the 4th; it is dated the 5th—he gave me in the first place a crossed cheque, dated the 8th, which I objected to in toto, and told him I would not accept it at all; and it was after banking hours when I received this, and I told him I wanted it the following day to make use of—I presented the cheque next day about 2 o'clock, as near as I can tell—I did not get any money upon it—I have never got any money for either the cheque or goods—the goods are in the hands of the police at present—after presenting the cheque I saw the prisoner—I asked him the reason of his giving me a cheque when he knew well there were no assets to meet it, and requested him then to pay me the amount of the cheque, or give up the goods, as he had broken the arrangement he had made—he said he would see me in the course of an hour's time, and he should be able to pay me the money, but he did not come—he, did not pay me—if I had not received that cheque I would not have left the goods—I would not have taken the cheque if I had not believed it was valid at the time—I believed he had authority to direct Jones and Webster to pay the 50l. at the time.
Cross-examined. Q. How long after he said he would come up and pay the money did you give him in change? A. It would be two hours betwixt my seeing him respecting the cheque being dishonoured and my going to the station—of course I believed him to be a respectable man, not knowing anything about him—it would be about eight or nine days previously to the goods being delivered that he first called upon me about the goods—the positive order was given on the same day—that was the 4th November—I cannot say whether I saw him on the 3d or not; I saw him on the 4th, I know—this order was never entered—we have an order book—there was not any entry in my books—this (produced) was the invoice made out when the order was given for the quantity of goods—I produced it to him previous to the goods leaving the place, when I requested the amount of the half cash—I am quite positive I did not receive the order until the 4th November—I did not receive the order on the 3d—I did not then receive the positive order as to the quantities—the first order was not for twelve pieces of cloth—the order was not specified until the day the goods were sent in—I told him that I had eight pieces of union cloth of one kind, and then he selected six pieces of pilot, and gave me the different prices he wanted to pay—the 114l. is the price of fourteen pieces—I did propose to send it to his place—I said I could get the use of Britten's cart to send it—he said he might be able to send some one for the goods—he sent two boys with a pair of wheels—that was on the 4th—the terms specified on the invoice are the usual terms (Terms read:"All goods bought before the 20th due the following month, lest 2 1/2 discount, and 3 per cent prompt; all remittances to be made direct to Leeds")—"cash" means payment within the mouth, if there is not a special arrangement for cash made—this was a special arrangement—the invoice was written before the arrangement—after the invoice was made, the arrangement was come to about the quantity of goods—I requested him then to pay 50l. before the goods ever left the place—I told him what the amount of the invoice would be—I had not made it out then—he said, "Well, if you oome down along with the goods, bring the invoice with you"—that (produced) is the invoice that was sent with the goods—when cash is paid down we allow one half per cent extra, occasionally—it was earlier than 7 in the evening when the goods were sent to Little Britain—I first asked him for the money, not expecting to receive a cheque; I expected it in either gold or notes—of course, when, he did not produce notes or gold, I submitted to take the cheque, with an understanding—he did not say he was short of money, and that he would give me a cheque for the 8th November—he did say he was short of money—he did not then say he would give me a cheque for the 8th November—he wrote out a cheque for the 8th, and crossed it—I told him I would not have it; I said I wanted to pay it away—he then wrote me an open cheque dated the 8th—I asked him to alter the date—I told him I wanted it for the 5th; that was the following day—I consented not to present the cheque until the afternoon of the 5th—I told him I should present it before 4 o'clock—we had some conversation about not presenting it until the after part of the day—the prisoner was not in custody by 4 o'clock—it would be between 5 and 6 when he was taken in charge—when I went back about the cheque being dishonoured, he made complaint about its having been presented so early in the day—he said there were funds in the bank.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Would you have let him have the goods if you had not thought you had a good cheque? A. Certainly not.
The RECORDER was of opinion that the false pretence in the second Count of the indictment could not be sustained by the evidence of this witness, as he received the cheque with a full knowledge of its nature.
MATHEW WILLIKSON . I am warehouseman to Messrs. Thomas Tapling and Co., of Gresham-street, carpet warehousemen—on 18th October, the prisoner called at the warehouse, and selected some goods to the amount of 26l. 16s. 6d.—he gave the name of Walter Berthold and Co.—he said he was carrying on business at No. 13, Little Britain—the money was to be returned when the goods were delivered—he was quite a stranger to me—I was told to send the goods as soon as I could—I directed the goods to go—I gave instructions that the porter was to bring the money back—he was not to deliver them without the money—I should not have considered a post dated cheque as money.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not the prisoner give you a card? A. I believe he did, similar to the one produced—he never told me he was actually Berthold, but merely said he represented the firm—the goods were entered to Walter Berthold and Co.—he said he represented the firm of Walter Berthold—that is the name he gave me—I said just now he did not say he came from Walter Berthold—I do not recollect the exact words he used—I understood he was Walter Berthold—the goods were for Walter Berthold—an entry was made in our books of those goods—"ready money" means money on delivery of the goods—I do not know of any distinction between "cash" and "ready money"—I have nothing to do with the counting-house—I do not know whether "cash" means payment within the month after delivery of the goods, I should fancy it was payment on delivery—I have the invoice (produced)—I cannot point out where credit is given for payment in that account—I am not aware of any entry having been made giving credit for the cheque—I do not know of a letter for payment being sent to the prisoner—I did not write any letter.
MR. METCALFE. Q. With whom did you believe you were dealing when the prisoner gave the eard; principal or agent? A. Principal—he said he would send the money back as soon as the goods were delivered—I believe that was what he said—from the fact of his handing the card, I supposed he was Walter Berthold—I saw no other person in the transaction.
WILLIAM ROBINSON . I am a porter in the firm of Tapling and Co.—on the 18th October, I was sent by the last witness with some carpet to Little Britain—I had received instructions that I was to receive the money—when I got there I saw the prisoner—I said, "Walter Berthold and Co."—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Some carpets, please, from Tapling and Co."—"Quite right," he says; "bring them in"—I took them in, and said, "I want the money, please"—I produced the invoice, and afterwards receipted it—he said, "I will give you a cheque; that is the same"—he presented the cheque; I took it, and put it in my pocket—I never noticed it at all—I did not notice that it was drawn for the 30th, if I had, I should not have received it—I would not have received it if I had known there were no assets to be obtained upon it.
Cross-examined. Q. What did you do with the cheque? A. Took it back to the firm—I gave it to the young man who is in the habit of receiving the money—I know nothing more of what became of it—I saw the cheque before it was due, when before the Magistrate—I did not take the cheque back to the prisoner, or go back to the place at all.
SOLOMON CARRALL . I live at 12, Queen's-road, Regent's-park—in September of last year, I was engaged by the prisoner as clerk—I believe I was with him five weeks—I saw there besides the prisoner, as Walter Berthold,
a man named Lister—the first fortnight I knew the prisoner under the name of Frederick Teed; afterwards, from some occurrence, he told me his name was Walter Berthold—I know the prisoner's handwriting—all three of the cheques produced are in his handwriting—I left the service because he gave me some instructions which I did not think proper to carry out—the name of Teed, Lister, and Co. was over the door, and Walter Berthold and Co. on a plate—I knew no one besides the prisoner and Lister—I know Lister's handwriting—(letters produced) these letters are both in his handwriting—(three others produced)—two of these were signed by the prisoner, and one by me—the prisoner directed me to sign that one, to order twenty puncheons of whiskey.
Cross-examined. Q. Whilst there, did you see any letters come? A. I did not, except two or three which armed there whilst the prisoner was at Sheffield—when I went, the name was up, Teed, Lister, and Co., and Walter Berthold—I have sent letters signed Walter Berthold—I cannot say that they were not in ihe prisoner's handwriting—I have not seen the letters—the signatures were in the prisoner's handwriting—I did not see any letters in the office signed, "Walter Berthold," in a different handwriting to the prisoner's—he introduced himself to me as Walter Berthold thus; a man called there and asked for Mr. Teed—the prisoner said Teed was not there—I was present at the moment—he also told the man that Teed never came to the office, except once a month—the prisoner knew I was astonished at it—I afterwards went with him to look at some revolvers, and he told me that he had broken off companionship with Teed, and only established the business with Walter Berthold and Lister and he represented himself to me as Walter Berthold—he did not represent he was a partner of Walter Berthold, but he was the principal—I understood from him there was no other person whose name was Walter Berthold—I am positive of that—I never saw any signatures as Walter Berthold, except in the prisoner's handwriting—he did not tell me that Walter Berthold was employed in the hat manufactory at Winchester House—he did not tell me that Walter Berthold had established a business at 26, Park-street, Southwark—the cause of my leaving the prisoner's service, was not that I was entrusted with money to pay and did not, but that the prisoner went to a friend of mine, Myer Ansell, for some steel pens—he went there as Lister—Ansell agreed to send the pens to the office, and he was to pay on delivery—afterwards the prisoner wanted a month's credit, and Ansell would not agree to it—he then found they were not respectable people, and would not send the goods—the other cause was, the prisoner told me to get a price list from Sheffield for electro-plated goods—the price list was 25 per cent. discount—I told him the price was "nett"—he said they were very cheap, and gave an order for 200l. worth—I said the price was "nett," but it was 20 discount, and on that I left him—I did not believe him to be a respectable man—he never charged me with having money of his to pay away and not doing it—I did not give notice on leaving—I never went for any wages afterwards.
THE RECORDER was of opinion that upon this evidence the false pretence was not made out, at the prosecutors held the cheque without objecting to it, and, therefore, accepted it at payment. MR. METCALFE submitted that upon an indictment for obtaining goods under false pretence a pritoner could be convicted of larceny.
THE RECORDER ruled that where the false pretences failed, the Jury could not convict of larceny, and directed the Jury to acquit the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. Were not references given? A. Not that I am aware of—I believe not—he said something about giving references—I said, "As you pay ready money, we do not require any"—I do not recollect that he mentioned any names—I am not aware that he mentioned Grant or Erwood—we keep a reference-book—I do not recollect that he asked how much the goods would come to—he did not make a remark to me about the goods being small in amount, and he would pay for them.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Your instructions were positive to bring back the goods or money? A. Yes.
(The evidence of William Robinson, Solomon Carroll, and George Simpson, as given in the last case, was read over to which tiuy assented).
JOSEPH WEBSTER . I am a banker, carrying on business at 41, Bridge House-place, Southwark—I am in partnership with Mr. Jones—we carry on business under the firm of "T. B. Jones and Joseph Webster"—the cheque book (produced) is from our bank—it was issued to the prisoner on the 24th October—he had at that time kept an account for some considerable period—(ledger produced)—the account was at that time overdrawn about 8l.—on the 31st of October, he paid in a sum of 30l. but that was for goods—the last payment on the drawing account, available as against cheques, was on the 4th of October, 5l.—the 30l. on the 31st of October, was for goods we held as security for money advanced—he paid in the 30l. and then gave us a cheque for the same amount, so that it exhausted it at once—he had a credit on the 4th, after paying the 5l., of 4l. 7s. 8d.—on the 6th a cheque for 5l. was presented and paid—that was in favour of Simpeon—it was then overdrawn—there was nothing paid in after.
Cross-examined. Q. You returned Messrs. Tapling's cheque? A. We did—several cheques had been dishonoured before that, on the 4th and 5th of November, but not before the 18th October—we have advanced the prisoner money upon goods in April or May—90l. was carried to his account on the 21st May—I do not speak positively—I have every reason to believe it was so—my partner is not here—he has authority to make advances on goods out of the partnership funds—I do not recollect what time of the day the 30l. was paid in, I think about mid-day—the cheque for the same amount was presented at the same time—it was in respect of a portion of goods then in my possession—there is still another portion in my possession—the prisoner has not frequently overdrawn his account—on one occasion it appears to have been overdrawn 10l. 1s. 7d.—that was on the 22d of April, but on the same day we received 25l.—between the 22d of April and the 4th of October, he appears to have been indebted to us for goods in varying amounts—his account was overdrawn on the 24th of April, 24l. 18s. 5d. and continued overdrawn until the 21st of May, when 90l. was placed to his credit for goods which he deposited—then he had a credit balance of 9l. 16s. 4d.—on the 17th of May we had allowed him to overdraw his account 112l. 2s. 8d. that was reduced on the 21st of May by an advance on goods—he kept his account in the name of 'Walter Berthold"—it was
opened on the 14th of May, 1861, with an amount of 345l.—I had known the prisoner previously as Hugo Dullens, and had had transactions with him previously—on the 14th of May he opened the account as the representative of the firm of Walter Berthold and Co.—it was opened in my absence by my partner—I had no conversation with him about it—he never told me his name was Berthold; in fact, I knew perfectly well his name was Hugo Dullens—we honoured cheques drawn by Walter Berthold and Co., the account being opened in that name—we never after the 18th October gave him notice that the account was overdrawn.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Except by returning the cheques? A. That, of course, would be noticed—I do not recollect that any large number of cheques were returned prior to the 18th October—we should not make any entry of a cheque having been presented, and returned—the account was very closely watched from August—we did not communicate that to him—I did not know of the prisoner's second bankruptcy, until this case was brought forward, not until he was given into custody—in May, June, July, and August, his balance was tolerably good against the class of cheques he drew, the balances varied from 23l. up to 54l.—when the balance against him was 112l. he offered us security—I do not recollect having any conversation with him on the subject—he then deposited the 90l. worth of goods—he said they were worth 120l., but we had no knowledge of the value—we have let him overdraw without depositing goods, we did so on the 22d April to the amount of 10l. 1s. 7d.—he had a debit acoount with us on the 20th May of 22l.; and he paid in on the 20th 27l., 90l. and 21l.—we should not have paid the 26l. 16s. 6d. cheque dated the 18th October, if it had been presented on that day, or any day between it and the 30th—I did not know that his bankruptcy was pending from 1859 to 1862—I was not aware whether he had his certificate or not.
COURT. Q. From anything you knew on the 18th of October would you then have dishonoured the cheque? A. Certainly, seeing that we had no assets to meet it.
CHARLES UNDERWOOD (Policeman). I took the prisoner into custody on the 5th November—he was taken to the station, and searched there by me—I found on him these papers (The letters produced), some receipts, a quantity of bills, and a purse containing 2l. 12s.
The RECORDER was of opinion there was not sufficent evidence to go to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
There were three other indictments against the prisoner, two for forgery, and one for larceny, upon which no evidence wot offered.
MR. ROWDEN coducted the Prosecution.
CHRLLES LIDDLE BAKEWELL . I am a merchant, carrying on business at 17, Gracechurch-street—on the 10th November I was in Cheapside, near Gutter-lane—there was a great crowd, and a lot of boys scrambling for toppers—I had my watch and Albert chain with me, in my waisicoat pocket—I was assaulted both in front and behind, one man throwing a quantity of sludge in my face, which nearly blinded me—I observed three or four men round me—I had a pocket book and some money in an inside pocket—I put my hands so as to keep possession of my pocket book, and some one unbuttoned my coat, and took ray watch—I did not see who did it—the watch.
produced is my watch—the swivel if gone, and there was a smaller chain and locket attached, which is lost.
Prisoner. Q. Will you swear positively that your coat was buttoned? A. I will swear I had two buttons buttoned, but I won't swear I had three—I missed my watch about ten seconds after the sludge was thrown in my face—I did not give any information that I had lost it—I do not say I was sober—I had been drinking—I had had about half a bottle of wine—I was not intoxicated—I was going home to dress to attend the Lord Mayor's banquet—I cannot swear by whom my watch was stolen.
JAMES AUSTEN . I am a ticket collector at the Old Swan pier, and live in Blackfriars—I was in Cheapside on Lord Mayor's day—it was about a o'clock—I saw the prisoner put his hand over the last witness's shoulder, unbutton his coat, snatch his watch, and ran away—I put out my leg to throw him, but he jumped past me—I cried out "Stop thief," and the policeman caught him.
Prisoner. Q. Did you attend at the Mansion House? A. I did—my evidence was not taken—it was not required, I believe—I was there with the intention of giving evidence—the policeman asked me to come, and said I should be wanted here; that was on Saturday, I believe—I gave, him my address—you did not pick the watch up—I saw you snatch it out of the pocket—there were many persons besides you.
WILLIAM GLASSCOCK (City-policeman, 450). On 10th November I was on duty in Gutter-lane—I saw the prisoner coming down, and I stopped him—I said, "What have you got?"—he said, "All right, I've got it," and he handed me the gold watch and chain produced—I took him to the station, and searched him, and found 1s. 3d. on him—he gave an address at Leicester, which was false.
Prisoner. Q. Do you know for a fact that the address was false? A. No—we sent to Leicester—you Voluntarily handed me the watch and chain—there were several boys following—I did not hear the cry of "Stop thief"—seeing you running I stopped you.
Prisoner's Defence. I am entirely innocent. I picked up the watch and chain. I was rather excited in picking up such a thing. I handed it over directly to the policeman. The gentleman says he lost another chain and locket, and if I had stolen it that would have been found upon me when they searched me at the station house.
The prisoner was further charged with having been before convicted at the Marylebone police court, on the 23d of January, when he was sentenced to months' imprisonment; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Confined Eighteen Months.
52. JOHN MARCHANT (15), and CHRISTOPHER WOOD (15) , Burglariously breaking into the dwelling honse of Charles Hocken and others, on the 3d of October, and stealing 17l. the money of the said Charles Hocken.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT EVERARD BULL . I am clerk to Mr. Hocken, a chemist and druggist, in Duke-street, Manchester-square—on the night of the 3d October I placed 10l. in gold in the cash box, which I placed in the desk in the counting-house, from which it was placed in the safe by Edward Hatch—there might have been a shilling or two in the box—there was another little box in which the silver was put—I was in the shop until nearly 10 o'clock—I locked up she shop, and hung the key in the counting house, where it is usually placed
—on the following morning I found the cash box had been broken open, and all the money was gone—the safe had been unlocked by the key taken from a drawer in the shop—I have known Marchant; he was in Mr. Hocken's employment—he came about October twelve months, and he left at the end of May, I think.
COURT. Q. While there had he a key of the door? A. Not to himself—the key was always in the lock of the outer door—we suppose that access was obtained by a false key—the prisoner saw where the key of the safe was kept; it was kept in the same place as when he was living there.
WILLIAM LAMBERT PRESTON . I am clerk to the prosecutor—at about 8 o'clock on the evening of 3d October, I placed 7l. 10s. 6d. in small packages in a box; it was gold and silver—I put the box in a drawer in the shop—it would be put in the safe after I left—the next morning I saw the safe; the money was all gone—it was my night out—I returned about ten minutes or a quarter-past 11—the shop door was fast—in the morning I saw the swing window in the passage open—there was a cask inside the shop under the window, and a coat on the cask, and on the coat a foot mark in sawdust.
EDWARD FRANCIS KITCHEN . I am warehouseman to the prosecutors—on 3d October, I took the cash-box from the desk, and a small box from a drawer in the shop—I looked them up in the safe, and put the key of the safe in a drawer in the shop—in the morning I found the drawer open and the key taken out—on going down stairs I found the chest had been opened with the key and the cash-box taken out—it appeared to have been broken open with a chisel—the chisel (produced) was there—it does not belong to the firm.
GEORGE KING (Policeman, 76 D). On 3d October I was on duty in Duke-street, Manchester-square—at about half-past 10 in the evening, I saw the two prisoners standing at the corner of Gray-street; that is about twenty yards from the prosecutors' shop—at the quarter-past 11 I saw them standing on the opposite side of the road—about ten yards from the shop.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. (For Wood). Q. Did you know Wood before? A. I did not—I knew Marchant well by sight—I did not say anything to them; I merely passed on—that night was the only time I had seen them together.
GEORGE MARTIN . I am sergeant of the Gravesend police—on Monday, the 13th, I apprehended the two prisoners at Gravesend—I searched Marchant, and found on him a chisel, a pistol, a flask, a silver watch, a metal chain, a wax taper, some matches, a collar, a purse, one penny, and a bunch of keys—on Wood I found a silver watch and chain, a pistol, a flask, two knives, three collars, a shoe-horn, a purse, and one penny, a box of percussion caps, some shot, and four handkerchiefe—I gave the prisoners into the custody of Seageant White—when I apprehended them, Wood said that Marchant was his brother, and his name was Pitt.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. Did you state that before the Magistrate? A. No, I did not—he did say that.
CHARLES WHITE . I am assistant to Mr. Eyland, a watchmaker, of Cheapside—on 4th October the two prisoners bought these two watches (preduced)—it was from half-past 10 to 1 in the morning—they gave 2l. each for them.
EDWARD WHITE (Police-sergeant, 16 D). I went to the prosecutor's place on 4th October—there were no marks of violence on either the shop-door or private-door; but there was a swing window leading from the shop to the
stair case, and underneath the window I saw some sawdust, as if some foot had scraped there—inside the window I saw a cask and a coat on it (coat produced), there was then a footmark of the left foot in sawdust visible, as coining out from the shop through the window—I have put it in a box, but you can scarcely trace the mark now—I went to Gravcesend on 17th October—I saw the prisoners in custody on another charge—they were handed over to me by Sergeant Martin—I told them I took them into custody on a warrant for breaking into the premises of Messrs. Hocken, and stealing 17l., on the night of 3d October—they made no reply—I then brought them to London, and in the carriage Wood said to me, "I will tell you the truth about it, Sir; it is the best, is it not?"—I told him he might do as he liked, but whatever he said, I should give in evidence against him—Marchant then said, "Well, the truth is the best"—Wood asked me then, "What do you think we shall get?"—I told him I could not form any idea—he then said, "If it were not for my father, I should not be in this predicament"—Wood then said, "I suppose we shall get two years in a Reformatory, and I shall be nineteen and a half when I come out"—Marchant said, "If that is all I shall get, I shall be seventeen and a half when I come out"—Wood then asked me where the Reformatory was—I said it was at Feltham, if he should be sent there—on the way through Cheapside, they endeavoured to show me the shop where they had bought the watches, but we had passed; they said they had given 2l. each, and the name was Eyland or Heliger—Marchant said, "I suppose you will go down to Margate and get the things we have left there; we bought some concertinas, and some sand shoes, and we left some old boots there at Mrs. Cameron's, No. 115, High-street"—I told him it was very possible that I should go—at the station I charged them, but they made no answer—I have since received some boots and other articles from Isaacson—one of the boots exactly corresponds with the mark made on the coat—there is a little mark in the centre where it has been clumped.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. Did the prosecutor decline to go on with the other charge? A. Yes—I can always remember conversations—I have told all that passed in reference to this case—I did not ask them any questions—when they asked what they should get, I understood it is reference to the robbery for which I took them into custody—I was positive in my own mind that it was—there were other things talked about, but I do not give it in evideuce if it does not refer to this charge—Wood told me he had been to Drury-lane, and was with a friend of his until 12 or 1—I told him I knew something about it from information I received.
ELIZABETH CAMERON . I keep a lodging-house, at No. 115, High-street, Margate—I remember the prisoners coming to lodge with me—I think it was about the 4th or 5th—I handed those boots (produced) to the last witness—they belonged to one of the prisoners, who left them—they gave me half a sovereign when they first came, to get them some provisions—they told me they were going to Ramsgate to meet their father, and then they should return and pay their bill—they never did return—they bought a riding-whip, and a concertina, a chess-board, and several other articles, all new—I think the boots belonging to Marchant.
—SHRLLEY. I live at Mr. Spratt's—he keeps a dming-house—I remember the prisoners coming there—I cannot remember how long ago—I
should say about a mouth—I changed one or two sovereigns for them—I cannot remember more.
MARCHANT, GUILTY — Confined Twelve Months.
WOOD, GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
53. THOMAS UNDERWOOD (27), and JAMES JONES (21) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Samuel Brown, and stealing therein 13 spoons, one pair of sugar tongs, and other articles, his property. Second count, feloniously receiving the same; to which
UNDERWOOD PLEADED GUILTY , and also to having been been convicted— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY BROWN . I live at 19, Englefield-road, West, De Beauvoir Town—it is the dwelling-house of my father, Samuel Brown—on Tuesday morning, 28th October, at about half-past 1, I heard a noise—I came down and found the back door open—I went into the front room and found the cheffionier open, and I missed out of that room three spoons, which had been used the evening before—I went down four stairs and found the door of a closet open and a candle inside—I then went down to the breakfast-room below, and found a closet door broken open there, and I missed six silver spoons, a silver thimble, four salt spoons, and a pair of sugar tongs; these (produced) are them—they are my father's property, and have his initials on them—I called in a policeman, who went over the premises with me, and then I closed the house again—there were one or two burnt matches on the dresser, and a slight mark on the window, as though a knife had been put under the window catch—in the back garden there were foot prints that corresponded with a boot taken from one of the prisoners—I saw them compared—I went to bed at about 11 that night, and the house was then locked up and safe—I made the comparison of the foot marks about a quarter-past 8 or 9—nobody had been out of the house before that time.
JOHN CLARKE (Policeman, N 16). On the morning of 28th October, I saw the prisoners at about twenty minutes to 2, in the Culford-road, about 200 yards from the prosecutor's house—I followed them some distance towards Dalston-lane—I went up and asked where they were going—they said, "Going home"—I asked where they lived—Jones said, "I live at Stepney," and Undtrwood, "I live at Dalston"—I said I should take them to the station-house on the charge of loitering about to commit a felony—I took them to the station—on searching Underwood I found this knife (produced) in the lining of his coat, and on further searching, I found these spoons (produced) down his legs—there was nothing found on Jones—as soon as Jones saw the spoons, he said, "I know nothing about those"—hearing of the robbery, I went down to Mr. Brown's in the morning, and found the knife would fit the mark on the front window, ledge—I went back to the station-house and fetched a boot off both of the prisoners, and they corresponded exactly with the footmarks—I compared them by making a mark at the side, and not by putting the boot into the mark—Jones's boot has gutta percha bottom, and it is quite flat—Underwood's has half a tip.
Jones' Defence. I am not guilty; they could not find my footmarks, as I never was in the place; they must have made a mistake.
He was further indicted for having been convicted of felony, at St. Mary, Newington, on the 19th November, 1859.
ROBERT WENT (Policeman, 160 K). I produce certificate. (Read:"William Vaughan convicted of larceny, 19th November, 1860, and imprisoned twelve months")—I was present at the trial—the prisoner was in my custody—he in the same person.
GUILTY.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LAXTON conducted the Prosecution.
HILERY JOHN BAUERMANN . I am a merchant, carrying on business at No. 10, Cloak-lane—on the 4th of November I had several pictures in my office—I went out somewhere about the middle of the day—the five pictures (produced) I left there—I returned in about a quarter of an hour—the pictures were then gone—I had a latch key—I think, probably, I left the door open; I do not think I locked it—the value of the pictures is about 25l.
CHARLES HARVEY . I am assistant to Mr. Folkard, pawnbroker, of No. 16, London-road, Southwark—I have seen the prisoner White before—he pledged two of the paintings produced on the 4th November—it was about noontime—he pledged them for 16s., in the name of Archibald White—Atkins pledged two other paintings later in the day, in the name of John Atkins—I knew the prisoners before—I had seen White before, pledging—I declined to take the pictures at first—I questioned White as to the ownership of the pictures—I told him I could not take them unless he got a note from the owner—he said he was sent by a young man who lived in his father's house, who was something of an artist, and had a quantity of paintings, and he wanted money—I said, "If that is the case, you must bring a note from him authorising me to take them in;" and he did so—when Atkins brought the pictures later in the day, as I lent a less sum, and as they did not appear, according to my judgment, to be such valuable paintings as the other two, and he appearing much older, I did not take any notice of that—I lent him 10s. on them—having had information, I sent for a constable.
WILLIAM RUDSON (Policeman, L). I took the prisoner Atkins into custody, on 7th November, at Mr. Folkard's—he was then offering the largest of the pictures produced, in pledge—the picture was over the counter, and the pawnbroker asked him where he got it from.
COURT to CHARLES HARVEY. Q. Do you remember what he said about the first two? A. I simply asked him whether they were his own pictures, and he said they were—he did not say how he came by them—when he brought the other picture, he said he was sent by other parties—that was when he brought the principal picture, for which I detained him—he said he wanted 25s. on it—I kept him in conversation whilst I sent to the station—I asked him whom he brought it from—he said he was sent by Mr. White, living at No. 8, Oakley-street—that was in the presence of the constable.
White's Defence. I am only guilty of pawning; I am not guilty of stealing them.
Atkins' Defence. He gave me the pictures to pawn, and gave me 1s. 6d. for pawning them; this one (White) and Watkinson were the two who gave me the pictures to pawn; they came to my house one morning to ask me,
when I was working at the Victoria; I went to their house, and they had another, the large one, hanging up in their room, and they got me to pawn it; that is all I know.
WHITE— GUILTY .—(See next case.)
ATKINS— GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MR. LAXTON conducted the Prosecution.
NICHOLAS SAMUEL EDWARD STEINBERG . I am a solicitor, and have offices at No. 61, Watling-street—on the 14th of October I had a photographic picture; it was hanging up in my private office—this (produced) is it—it was in a second-floor front room, and my clerk has an office on the first-floor—I went out on that morning at about 11, or half-past 11—at that time the picture was hanging up in my room—I locked the door, and took the key down to the clerk's office—I placed the key on my clerk's desk, in the usual way, and left the office—I returned a few minutes before 2—I found that my clerk had gone out, and left the key in his door—I went into his room for my key, and found it had been taken away, and a strange key was left in lieu of it—I went upstairs and found my own door would not open, and I had a locksmith to pick the lock—I then found that the photographic picture had been taken away, and some other things.
WILLIAM EDWARD HILL . I was formerly clerk to Mr. Steinberg—on the 14th October I was in the office, on the first-floor, from about 10 to a quarter to 2—I then went out—I did not leave anybody in my office—I just went round into Bucklersbury to get something to eat, and I locked the door and left the key in it, on the outside.
JOSEPH JONES (Police-sergeant, 151 L). From instructions, I went to Kynaston-street, Gibson-street, Portland-road, about 3 o'clock on the morning of the 8th of November—I went into the back room on the ground-floor—I saw the two prisoners in bed together—I found in the room the photographic picture produced—it was hanging up in the room—I was told by the landlady that the room was rented by the elder prisoner—I had not seen him there before—I know nothing, of my own knowledge, beyond finding them both there on that day.
The RECORDER was of opinion that the mere finding of the prisoners sleeping in the room where the stolen property was, was not sufficient evidence of possession, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LAXTON conducted the Prosecution.
LOUIS WALTER WILLIAMS . I am a solicitor, having offices in Walbrook-buildings—on the 21st October I had this clock and inkstand (produced) in my office—I was at my office on that day—I went out about 4 o'olock, as near as I can recollect—I left those articles safe at that time—no one was there then—I locked the door, according to my usual custom, and gave the key to the housekeeper—I was unwell, and did not return until Thursday the 23d—I then found those things gone.
JOSEPH JONES (Police-sergeant, 151 L). I went to Kynaston-street, on the morning of the 8th November, at about 8 o'clock—I went into the back room on the ground-floor—I found the two prisoners in bed with a female
—I found the articles produced there—the interior of the clock was not there—I afterwards found the clockworks at Mr. Bertrand's, a clockmaker, in Oakley-street, Gibson-street.
WILLIAM BERTRAND . I am a clock and watchmaker, living at 41, Oakley-street—on the 2d November I remember the works of the clock produced, being brought to me—the two prisoners brought them—I gave those works to the police-sergeant—when the prisoners brought the works they wanted some repair—they wanted me to repair another—I told them what was required to be done, and they were to give me an answer about the second when the first was repaired—one was a clock, the other was a bronze timepiece—they did not come again—they left them both; one was to be repaired, and the other was to inquire what price it would be.
Watkinson. Q. You say the two came together? A. The two time-pieces were brought together—you brought one to me—one carried the works and the other carried the clock-case.
Watkinson's Defence. I can only say I was not there when the iron clock was taken; as to the other clock, I know nothing about it.
WHITE— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
WATKINSON— GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, November 27th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. JUSTICE BYLES; Mr. Ald. GABRIEL; Mr. Ald. DAKIN;
Before Mr. Justice Byles.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD ROBINS . I am a shoemaker, and live at Upper Holloway—on Tuesday, 4th November, I was near Manor-place—I saw a dog-cart coming from Highgate towards London—as it neared Manor-place I saw Mr. Hammond, the deceased, going to cross the road—there was a bus in the middle of the road, and the dog-cart was on his right side—he escaped the bus; if he had stepped back, he must have been run over by the bus, so he tried to get past both the bus and the cart, and he could not—the bus was coming from Highgate, in the same direction as the cart—the deceased was on the right-hand side of the road as you go from Highgate to London, and he had to cross—the bus was nearest to him—the dog-cart and the bus were close together—he escaped the bus, and when he saw the dog-cart he tried to step back, and the shaft of the dog-cart knocked him down—I was on the left-hand side coming from Highgate to London; the side to which the deceased was coming—the cart was nearest to me—when the deceased was knocked down the wheels of the cart did not touch him at all; he went between the wheels—it was a two-wheeled cart—the horse went over him
while he was on the ground, and the wheels escaped him—I took him to Mr. Mann's, the doctors.
Cross-examined by MR. F. H. LEWIS. Q. Did you hear the prisoner halloa out twice before the man was knocked down? A. He hallooed out twice directly—it was done in a moment—he had not hallooed out before the deceased had passed the bus; he did directly he escaped the bus—I don't know which it was that hallooed out; it was one of the two persons in the cart—the prisoner was driving the cart—he was going at the rate of about eight miles an hour—I do not believe he could have pulled up before the deceased fell down—the omnibus was between the prisoner and the deceased—it was a dark night—I knew the deceased—he was deaf, and near-sighted, I believe.
MR. BESLEY. Q. I believe the prisoner pulled up immediately afterwards? A. He did; and drove to the doctors—he was what I call drunk; but I can't call it drunk or sober; he was a little intoxicated.
COURT. Q. Were there any persons on the top of the omnibus? A. That I can't say—I can't say the width of the road there—I believe I was about thirteen yards from the deceased—there are gas-lights there—I did not know it was the deceased before I got him to the doctors—there were stones in the middle of the road, so that the old man could not walk very freely—this occurred on the London side of the Archway Tavern; about half way between that and the railway bridge.
PAUL MUSDELL . I am in the employment of Mrs. Raikes, a draper, at 2, Manor-place, Upper Holloway—on Tuesday evening 4th November, about a quarter-past 9, I was standing at the shop door—that is on the left-hand side as you come from Highgate—I saw a dog-cart pass—I saw the deceased attempt to cross the road; about twenty yards from our door towards Highgate—the dog-cart was then about thirty yards from him—it was being driven at the rate of about ten miles an hour, as near as I can say—the deceased had got nearly into the middle of the road when the dog-cart got up to him—some one from the cart called out, and the deceased was immediately knocked down by the horse—there were two persons in the dog-cart; I could not tell which of them called out—the cart stopped afterwards, and the deceased was taken to the doctor's—the prisoner was the driver of the cart—he was intoxicated.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the whole of this? A. Yes—I did not see any omnibus—the dog-cart was about thirty yards from me when I first saw it—it was while he was going that distance that I judged he was going at the rate of ten miles an hour.
COURT. Q. Was the horse galloping or trotting? A. It was on the full trot—it was a pony.
MR. BESLEY. Q. What is the width of the road there? A. Much wider than this Court—the cart was coming rather on the decline.
JURY. Q. Could you see the distance of thirty yards, it being, a dark night? A. The shops were open; I could see the dog-cart very plainly—I could not see the omnibus—there was no omnibus there; that I am certain of.
GEORGE WILLIAM HAMMOND . I am a shoemaker, at Upper Holloway—the deceased, William Hammond, was my father—he was brought home to my house on the night of 4th November—he died on the 7th, at twenty minutes to 3 in the morning—he would have been seventy-three years old on 6th January—he was rather deaf—he could walk well—he was not at all near sighted.
THOMAS WHITE MANN . I am a surgeon, living at 5, Belgrave-terrace, Upper Holloway—on the night of 4th November, the deceased was brought to my house; he was sensible—he had received a blow on the head—the orbit of the left eye was very much swollen and effused—I attended him up to the time of his death—he continued in a state of insensibility the whole time—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination—the cause of death was the effusion of blood over the substance and in the ventricles of the brain—that effusion might have been occasioned by either a blow or fall—I saw the prisoner that night—he seemed to be almost in a state of stupor—I considered that he had been drinking too much.
JURY. Q. Might not the excitement have caused that appearance? A. That I can hardly say.
GEORGE DANIELS (Policeman, S 38). On Tuesday night, 4th November, about 11 o'clock, the prisoner and another man named Gustavus Foster, were brought to the station—the prisoner was drunk—he was charged at the station with being drunk—Robins drove the cart to the station.
Gustavus Foster being called, did not appear.
GUILTY .— Confined Three Weeks.
MESSRS. RIBTON and OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution.
JANE ROBINSON . I am the wife of William Robinson, a shoemaker, of 5, James-street—on 31st October last, between 4 and 5 in the afternoon, I was engaged washing in the kitchen of No. 2, Bacon-street—I could see into the back yard of that house—I heard a great many words, but too bad to express, between a young man and the prisoner—I saw the prisoner; she had a child in her arms—after about twenty minutes, and after having a great many words with the young man, I saw her take the child and put it into the water-butt; the child rather struggled, and clutched its little hands on the edge of the water-butt, and she took its hands off and put it down into the water—she went a little way from the butt, and left it in the water—the same young man came up momentarily, and took the child out of the butt by the heels, and gave it to Mrs. Merrett—I saw her undress it; it was rather exhausted—it appeared to be about twelve or thirteen months old—there was a cry of "Police," and a constable came and took the prisoner in charge.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did this woman live with her husband and children in that house? A. No; she was an entire stranger—I had never seen her before—she did not live there, nor did the young man she was talking to—there was a little building going on at the back of the house, and the young man was employed there—I understood that he was her son-in-law, but I do not know anything of the family—he was making use of very gross and disgusting language to the prisoner—she appeared to be very much excited—the butt I speak of is a kind of pickling-tub—I suppose it stands about that high from the ground (about a yard and a half)—she dashed the child in the water in her rage—I don't think it was half a moment in the water before it was pulled out by the young man.
MR. RIBTON. Q. What distance was he from her when she put the child in? A. I don't suppose he was above a yard and a half from the butt.
COURT. Q. Was the prisoner very angry with the young man? A. Yes
—I can't say how she came to wreak her vengeance on the child; that is best known to herself—I do not know, of my own knowledge, whose child it was; no more than what I heard when it was taken into the house, from the young man—I heard nothing said by the prisoner about it or in her presence.
LUCY GREESON . I am the wife of an engine-driver, and live in Bacon-street—I do not know the prisoner, any more than seeing her on the day in question—I do not know where she lives—I saw this transaction—I was looking out of window into the back yard—I saw the prisoner standing quarrelling with the young man—I saw her standing against the butt, and she put the child into the water, and as she was putting it in it struggled rather, and caught its hands on the side of the butt, and she loosed them from the butt and pushed them into the water, and afterwards pushed its head in; I saw her do that—the first time I saw her she was about two yards from the butt—she then had the child in her arms—after she had put the head in, she stepped a little way back from the butt—the young man was then at the other end of the yard—he was at the other end of the yard at the time I saw her put the child in—she stepped away from it, as near as I could tell, about half a yard—the young man was stooping down, picking up some bricks, he looked up directly, dropped his trowel, and ran and took the child out of the water—I saw it taken out, and it was carried into the house—I saw it afterwards; it was very much exhausted—I don't know exactly how long it was before it recovered.
THOMAS HARRIS (Policeman, H 7). I know police-constable Samuel King, H 68—I saw him this morning in his bed, at 39, Leman-street, police-station—he has fever—I have a certificate here—he has been confined to his bed about a fortnight—the divisional surgeon, Mr. Tenby, is attending him—he is not able to get up yet.
COURT. Q. Do you know, of your own knowledge, that he has been confined to his bed a fortnight? A. No; only from what somebody has told me—I saw him this morning and yesterday morning; he was in bed then—I had not seen him till yesterday since he has been ill—I can't say the time he has been off duty—I was not at the police-court.
JANE ROBINSON (re-examined). I was at the police-court—I heard the policeman King examined—the prisoner was present—I don't recollect whether she had any legal adviser. (MR. SLEIGH submitted that the deposition of the witness could not be read in the absence of any surgical evidence as to his inability to attend. MR. JUSTICE BYLES was of opinion that it could not be received; there must either be medical evidence, or something that would do as well).
MR. SLEIGH submitted that there was no cam to go to the Jury, there being no proof of the name of the child alleged to be assaulted.
MR. RIBTON applied to amend the indictment under 14 and 15 Vic., by stricking out the name, and inserting the words "a certain female child, whose name is to the Jurors unknown." MR. SLEIGH contended that this course could not be taken; the Grand Jurors had presented the name, and the proposed alteration would not be merely amending a variance, but would be a changing of the form of the indictment; he submitted that the Court had no power to amend, as it could not be said to affect the merits of the case. MR. JUSTICE BYLES said that he should give to a statute of this kind a very wide construction, so as to advance the remedy and suppress the mischief; he therefore directed the indictment to be amended by inserting the words "a certain infant female child, whose name is unknown."
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. SLEIGH and OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON
GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, November 27th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. BARON BRAMWELL; Mr. Ald. COPELAND; Mr. Ald. ABBISS;
Mr. Ald. DAKIN; and Mr. COMMON SERJEANT.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
SAMUEL PRIOR . I am a clerk—on 5th November, very near 2 o'clock, I was returning from the Haymarket, and when I was at the second lamp in Cockspur-street I was suddenly seized from behind, and fell violently on my face to the ground—I called out "Police"—I could not see who the persons were who seized me, or how many there were; but there must have been more than one—I rose up, and was held in a leaning position backwards by a hand thrust over my eyes, and my arms pinioned behind—I called "Police" again, when a hand was slapped on my mouth—I felt two hands at my waistcoat-pocket, where my watch and chain were, which I protected with my hands—after that I felt a hand grasp my throat tightly to take my scarf-pin—they bent the pin and then commenced unbuttoning my waistcoat, and endeavouring to release the chain from my button-hole—the police then came near, I believe, for the men pushed me to the ground and made off—they did not succeed in taking anything from me—the police did not come to me—I have a scar on my face, and a large bruise, which were inflicted in the fall.
Paynter. I was going home, and the gentleman was intoxicated and ran against me; I only shoved him in self-defence. Witness. If I was intoxicated I could not have risen up again.
Thompson. Q. Can you swear to me? A. I did not see you till you were in the hands of the policeman—I did not see you attack me; I was blindfolded—I did not say at Bow-street that I was intoxicated.
COURT. Q. Were you examined more than once? A. I was examined at the police-station and at Bow-street.
JONATHAN NORRISS . On 5th November, about 2 in the morning, I was in Cockspur-street, and saw the prosecutor, but not before he was attacked by that young man, the shortest prisoner of the two (Paynter)—he picked Mr. Prior up, chucked him on his face, and walked away from him—the other prisoner was close by him—the gentleman hallooed out, "Police," and the two policemen walked round the corner close together—I did not see them before Mr. Prior was knocked to the ground—the prisoners then walked away, and Thompson aaked me for a light—I told the police, in the prisoners' hearing, that they were the young men who knocked Mr. Prior down,
and the police took them in custody—there were no other persons near—Thompson threatened me at the police-court—he said, God blind him, he would make it hot for me.
Thompson. Q. Was I speaking to a female when I asked you for a light? A. Yes—I said, "I shall not give you one"—there was nobody else with you when the gentleman was knocked down—a man came to the station and said that you were not the man, but there was nobody but you two present when the gentleman was knocked down—the lady in my cab said that she could not swear to either of you.
Thompson. I want to know why the lady and gentleman are not here; they swore positively at the station that I was not the person. I was coming down Cockspur-street, heard the disturbance, and came up and saw the gentleman on the ground. I asked the man for a light, and he said I think you are one of the men who were attacking that man, and the policeman took me; that is all I know of the transaction. This man is a perfect stranger to me. I certainly said, "If you accuse me of this I will make it hot for you." Witness. It was a lady inside that you said that to, but you threatened me at the station-house—the lady is not here.
COURT. Q. You did not see these two men together before Mr. Prior was attacked? A. This young man had got Mr. Prior, and was chucking him down when Thompson passed by; he was eight yards away when the other chucked him down—Thompson never touched him, but he was close by the side of him, and in his company—after Paynter left the gentleman he went to Thompson; and when the policeman came, Thompson asked me for a light, and then called Paynter, saying, "Come on, we are going home; we have not done anything."
Thompson. Q. Did I call him by name? A. No, you called him Bill—you were against the lamp-post, which is half a dozen yards from where the gentleman was—I did not say that it was twelve yards—you went quietly to the station—I do not know you.
COURT. Q. Did you or did you not see any attempt to rob? A. I did not—he merely threw him down and walked away—I cannot say whether the prosecutor had done anything to cause that—he did not throw him down, and walk away immediately: he held him a minute or so in his arms, and then threw him down—he had got him at the back—the gentleman had had a little to drink—I do not know whether he told the Magistrate at Bow-street that he was drunk.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Had you a lady and gentleman inside? A. A lady—she saw the gentleman knocked down, but would not swear to the persons.
JOHN MILES (Policeman, A 620). On 20th November I was on duty in Cockspur-street between 2 and 3 in the morning with Cloak, another policeman, and heard a cry of "Police"—we proceeded to the spot, and saw the prosecutor just getting up—he said he had been knocked down by two men—the prisoners were about five yards from him walking together—Morris pulled up his cab, and said that the little one was the one who took him up and dashed him down, and that they had both been wrestling with him, upon which I took him in custody with Cloak's assistance—there was one other man in the street when I went up.
Thompson. Q. Quite as close to him as I was? A. Yes—the cabman said that it was the little one who flung him down, but you had both been having a hand at him.
together about five yards from him—we took them in custody—there were no persons in the street but the two prisoners and the prosecutor.
COURT to JOHN MILES. Q. You have said that besides the prosecutor, the cabman, yourself, your fellow constable, and the two prisoners, there was another man? A. Yes; there was another man in the street.
LEWIS CLOAK (re-examined). There was no other man near the prosecutor, or going from him at the time; but a man came to the station, though he did not volunteer any statement—we took the prisoners in custody—they said nothing.
Paynter. He has taken a false oath; he says there was nobody there, and there was a man against the post.
Thompson. Q. What was I doing when you came up? A. Asking the cabman for a light, which he refused to giro you, attempting to make us believe that you were innocent of it.
COURT. Q. Did anybody come to the station with the prisoners, and say that they were not the men? A. No—one man came there who said that he saw it done, but could not tell who did it; and the lady in the cab said that she could not tell.
WILLIAM GORDON (Policeman, A 323). I know the prisoners by sight—I have repeatedly seen them together in the Haymarket—Thompson used to drive a cab—I have seen them together a good many times before this month, and in Harrisson's public-house in the Haymarket.
Paynter. You have seen me in no bad company. Witness. Yes, I have.
Thompson. I do not know the man, and I am sure he does not know me. Witness. I believe you hold a licence to drive a cab now.
Paynter's Defence. I was passing from the Haymarket, and coming along Cockspur-street; this gentleman shoved against me, and shoved me into the gutter; I shoved him, and he, being intoxicated, fell to the ground. I know nothing of Thompson; he came up afterwards. I never saw him before.
Thompson's Defence. I had been with a man who was coming from Willesden. I was coming down Cockspur-street, and heard a disturbance on the opposite side. I ran up, and there was a gentleman there. A lady in a cab was hallooing, and when it was all over I walked to the cab-stand, and asked the man to give me a light. He said, "No; I think you are one of the men." There is no evidence that I ever had anything to do with it. I never was in such a place as this before. If I had not crossed the road to ask for a light, I should not have been charged at all.
COURT to JOHN MILES. Q. What was the condition of Mr. Prior's coat? A. Covered with dirt—his face was dirty, and the skin was cut—the button-hole in which his watch-chain was, was broken, and his pin was bent as if somebody had had his arm round his neck.
COURT to SAMUEL PRIOR. Q. Did any damage happen to your dress? A. No; but my waistcoat was opened a little—I buttoned it up again—the only damage was to my face, but my coat was muddy all over.
GUILTY .—The officer Gordon stated that he had seen the prisoners nightly in the Haymarket in company with thieves and prostitutes, watching the night houses for drunken persons.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution.
and am in the employ of the post-office, as a postman—on Monday night, 10th December, I was by the City-road-bridge, going towards Islington—I was not in uniform—the female prisoner came up to me by the bridge, and asked me to go home with her—I consented to do so—I had known her before by sight—I walked along the City-road with her, towards Islington—she said she would go into the City Arms public-house for her key—she went in, remained about a minute, and came out again—we then turned down Graham-street, which is a continuation of Macclesfield-street, and went as far as Hope-wharf, which is on the right-hand side of Graham-street, and leads down to the canal—there is no thoroughfare; the water is at the other end—she then said she should not go home, and said, "Let us turn down here"—we turned down on the right-hand side, near a heap of sand, and stood there talking about five minutes—I then heard footsteps—I turned my head round, and saw the two male prisoners coming down—I said to her, "Who are these?"—she said, "Hush! hold your tongue"—by that time they had got up to me, and asked me what I had to do with that girl—Thomas Radshaw went partly behind me, and Dixon partly in front—the woman then took hold of my chain—I scuffled with the two men some little while, but they got me down—I struggled with them—they both began kicking me brutally on my head—I caught one of them by the leg, and held it—I found a hand on my mouth, and I left go of the leg to take the hand away—I caught the leg several times—I called "Police" and "Murder"—they were some little while doing this—there must have been some alarm, for they then got up and went to the top of Hope-wharf—I ran after them, and saw Thomas Radshaw running without his hat—my right eye was closed, and my left filled with blood, so that I could not see which way they turned—I turned back, and picked up my umbrella, and a hat which belongs to Thomas Radshaw; also my hat, which was lying on the ground—I went to the top of the wharf, but the blood ran down my face, and shirt, and trousers, and all my clothes—I was all over mud—I got so faint that I was obliged to be led to a doctor's by two men—I afterwards went home in a cab to my father's, and on my way noticed that part of my chain had gone—it was rather a dark place, but there was sufficient light for me to see the prisoner's face—I missed eighteen pence, which was safe when I was on the wharf with the female prisoner—I have been in the hospital nearly three weeks, and after I came out I went with Sergeant Hooper to Oxford-street, where I came full face with the female prisoner, and I turned round and saw Dixon crossing the road with a constable—I said, "That is the man who assaulted me, and that is the female who assaulted me"—Maria Ballard was with the sergeant.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. (For Thomas Radshaw). Q. How long had you known Maria Ballard? A. Not any time—I was with her that night, and know her by coming up as a witness—I do not know whether she is a prostitute—I did not know her before the attack upon me—I did not know that she was living with Thomas Radshaw till this affair happened—I did not know it before I gave any of the prisoners in custody—when Radshaw struck me he did not say, "I will teach you what it is to have anything to do with Maria Ballard," nothing of the kind—I mean to say that I had nothing to do with Maria Ballard before the night that Radshaw struck me—I swear I had never seen her—she is a witness to-day.
Cross-examined by MR. MATTHEWS. (For Charlotte Radshaw). Q. When the two male prisoners came down the wharf, before they did anything, did one or both say, "What are you doing with that girl?" A. Yes; I know now that the female prisoner lives with Dixon.
Dixon. Q. I think you said that the female accosted you, and requested you to accompany her home for the night? A. Not for the night; I consented to go home with her—I did not see what she did in the public-house—I was not inside—I was two or three doors off—I did not see her speak to anybody there—we merely talked when we went down Hope-walk, nothing further—we only went down to talk—I had 1s. 6d. in my right-hand pocket, and 2 1/2 d. in my trousers' pocket when I engaged to accompany her home—I do not remember saying before, that only one of the prisoners kicked me, but my head has been so knocked about, that it is impossible to say word for word—I have not got over it yet—both the men who attacked me assaulted me—both of you got me down—I can't say word for word what I said at the police-court—your head has not been knocked about—you can remember word for word—you were coming across Oxford-street the next time I saw you: as I turned round from the female prisoner, I saw you crossing the road—she was walking by my side, and Sergeant Hooper and Maria Ballard were with me—I did not hear Maria Ballard say "Here he comes"—I know the nature of an oath—I have sworn to tell the whole truth—I did not know Hope-walk previous to going down—I do not feel confused—I told the Magistrate that my head had been knocked about very much, and I was obliged to have a seat—I cannot say how many days I had been out of the hospital then—on the day I went to Oxford-street, I met Maria Ballard at the Angel with Sergeant Hooper, at 6 o'clock,—I was not aware that Sergeant Hooper had made the appointment with Ballard—my father had received a message—I had no conversation with Maria Ballard: the police had the conversation—I walked with her, and I might have spoken to her—I did not ask her if she knew a man named Dixon, nor did she tell me that she knew the man who had assaulted me.
MARIA BALLARD . I have been living with Thomas Radshaw some months—on 28th September, about half-past 9 o'clock, I went to the City Arms to ask Thomas Radshaw when he was coming home—I saw him outside the City Arms with James Dixon—I asked him if he was coming home—he said, "No; you must go to my mother's, and I will fetch you home"—I saw Caroline Radshaw and a gentleman come out of the public-house—she was on his arm—I went to his mother's, and remained there till 11 o'clock—I then went to the City Arms to see if he was there, and he was not—I went to Hull-street, where Dixon lives, with Thomas Radshaw—I asked if Radshaw was there, and Dixon opened the window and said that he had been gone an hour—I went home at half-past 11—Thomas Radshaw was then in bed—he asked me why I had not been home before, and I said that I had waited at his mother's for him—he said that his clothes were wet, and asked me to hang them on a chair to dry—next morning, at breakfast time, he asked me to wash his stockings, as there was some blood on them—I saw two spots of blood, and asked him how they came there—he said that he had been kicking a postman, and left him for dead, and that his sister Chot. had taken a man down the entry, and they had left him for dead—there was a pork-pie hat on my table, and I asked him what he wanted with that—he told me that he had lost his in the scuffle—I was with Beamish when Charlotte Radshaw was taken into custody, and also when Dixon was walking across the street with the prisoner—I said, "Here he comes;" the prosecutor did not turn round when I said that.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Did not Radshaw tell you that he had, kicked the postman on account of his keeping up a connection with you? A. No—I never saw the postman before, nor did Radshaw charge me with
it—he did not say that he would cease to live with me on that account—he did not turn me out of doors—I never had connection with anybody when I was with him—he left me on the Thursday: I cannot say the day of the month—I did not then say, "Well, if you are going to leave me, I shall round on you for the assault," but I did when he ill-used me.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Since these men have been taken in custody have you received any money? A. I received 1s. each day for refreshment from the father of the postman.
Dixon. Q. I think you say that at the time of the assault I was living with the female prisoner? A. Yes; I know that; because when I have been there you have been with her—I was there on the Saturday night, as this assault happened on Monday, and you came and fetched me from the City Arms—you have been living with the female prisoner about four months: not the entire time, but all the time she has been in Hall-street—I do not know how long you have left her—she came one morning and said that you had left her, but you were together again at night—I believe you were living with her when Thomas Radshaw was apprehended, because I was told that you both went away together—I walked to Oxford-street with the prosecutor, but had no conversation whatever with him—I did not tell him that I knew the two men who assaulted him—I did not say to him, "Thomas Radshaw, with whom I formerly lived, has confided in me, and told me the man who was in his company"—I said before the Magistrate, that Thomas Radshaw told me you were one of the men—I did not tell the postman so—I went to Oxford-street to find you—he was by my side, but he did not accompany me—I said to the postman, "Here he comes"—that was when we met Charlotte, I was speaking to Sergeant Hooper, who was by my side—when you were crossing Oxford-street I was behind the prosecutor—I might have made the remark loud enough for the prosecutor to hear—he did not turn round, I think—no one told me that if we captured Charlotte Radshaw you would do me an injury—I do not know that you have been in the habit of leaving her for two or three days at a time—she has never come to my house and lived there—when Thomas Radshaw left me, I did not know where he lived—he was apprehended in Hall-street, where you live—I went into the room on the night he was apprehended, and saw Charlotte, and the mother and father and the young man—I did not see you—I was not aware that his father and mother lived there, because he lived in Chapel-street, but they moved into Golden-lane on the night I gave you in charge—I saw them there that night—some of them were in bed—I am a prostitute.
COURT. Q. Had you a quarrel with Radshaw? A. Yes; on the Thursday after this affair: no; the Thursday week afterwards, and on the Saturday I gave him in charge—I went to the police on the Saturday—I do not know why I did not go on the Friday, but on the Saturday I made up my mind and went to the police—Charlotte was not taken the same night—I gave information against her then, but they did not understand me, and when they went back to fetch her she was gone—she was in the room that night, sitting with her bonnet and shawl on—it was a fortnight afterwards that she was taken in Oxford-street, or more than that.
THOMAS ARCHER . On 13th September, I called to see Thomas Radshaw in Playhouse-yard, at his residence, about 8 o'clock in the morning—he was in bed, and I asked him if he was going to get up—he said that his sister had taken a postman down a turning in the City-road, and he got behind and Jim got behind him, and they knocked him down and kicked him on
the head, and his stockings were bloody—I saw them there—the last witness was there at the time—he said that they got 18d. and part of a chain, but the man was too strong for them, and they could not get the watch away—a few days afterwards I was walking with him, and he asked me to go to Jim's house—I had been there once previously, and saw something pass between them about another robbery—I told him I should not go, for I thought Jim was not a fit person for me to be in his company, knowing that he got his living wrongfully—he said that Jim had got part of the chain, and he would have his share of it: that he had given him a black eye once before, and he would do so again.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. What are you? A. A labourer—my last work was on 5th November in the building line—Mr. Manwaring, a hop-grower in Kent, was my last employer—I was a pole-puller there—I have done honest work since that, but have not been able to do continuous work—I have never been a witness before, or a prisoner—I have not been in that very dock for passing bad money—I was neither convicted nor charged—I was never charged with theft at Reading—I do not know how Radshaw came to tell me this—we were on intimate terms—I made his acquaintance in the hop ground—he told me this on 13th September—I made no communication to the police, but they knew it by Ballard calling me as a witness—I was in the room when the stockings were shown with blood on them—I went to call him up, and Ballard let me in—I did not think it a right thing when I heard him say that he had a man's chain and 18d., but I did not give information because I did not know where to give it—on the night the information was given they had to travel to three stations before they could bring the case to light—if she had not told me I never should have mentioned it—I first knew Ballard by her picking hops in my set.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Have you had any dispute with Radshaw? A. We had a few words in the hop ground, but we were the best of friends afterwards—I had an accident in Newgate-street, and have been in St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I then went out harvesting—I have done nothing in the building line since my accident—I am now a watchman for Mr. Brassey.
Dixon. Q. Have you done six months' work in the last twelve months? A. Yes—I have since subsisted by my wife's industry, and it is far better for me to do that than to live on her prostitution, and thieving—she sells blacking, and serves the police-station—every policeman known her well—Thomas Radshaw is in the habit of calling you Jim.
COURT. Q. You met with an accident? A. Yes, after which I went harvesting and hopping—since then I have been watchman to Mr. Brassey—I have not laboured at my trade, because I was not able to do so.
CALEB HOOKER (Policeman, G 3). I took Thomas Radshaw on 11th October, at 13, Hall-street, between 11 and 12 at night, on the evidence of Maria Ballard—I said that I took him on suspicion of being concerned with another man and woman not in custody, with violently assaulting a postman in the City-road, and attempting to steal his watch—I took Charlotte Radshaw on 30th October in Oxford-street—I was in plain clothes—I told her I took her for being concerned with Thomas Radshaw, in violently assaulting a postman—she made no answer—he identified her, and charged her—she nodded her head, and said, "I must go with you," and we walked away.
LUKE JAMES TOMKIN (Policeman, 315 N). On 30th October I went to a house in Oxford-street, just by Regent-circus, and saw Dixon sitting down—I walked in at the door, and he got up to me face to face, and said, "Allow me"—I
said "Allow me"—I then said, "Your name is Dixon"—he said, "Yes"—I told him to consider himself in my custody on a charge of robbing and violently assaulting a postman in Macclesfield-street, City-road, and stealing part of a watch chain, and some money—he said, "Let me go outside, and do not make any bother here; can we refer to the parties to-night?"—I said, "No, you will have to go to the station for identification"—as we proceeded arm in arm the prosecutor came up, and said, "There is the man that assaulted me"—I said, "Go away, we do not want you here"—I put him in a cab, and took him to the station.
Dixon. Q. Did you not object to the prosecutor recognising me? A. Yes—I said, "Go back," and when he said, "That is the man," I found it was too late—I wished you to be properly identified—it was raining heavily on this night—I have visited the scene of the assault, and have measured it—the nearest light is thirty yards from the top of the wharf, and from the top of the wharf to where the prosecutor was assaulted, is twenty-eight yards—that makes fifty-eight yards altogether—the nearest lamp-post is fifty-eight yards from the spot—there is an angle there, but the place is all open—I took another constable, and let him walk down to see if I could recognise him, and I could, as plain as possible, though that was a stormy night—I heard you express a wish for the hospital surgeon to be examined—he is not here, he has left the hospital, and gone to practise in Wales—the surgeon is here who first saw the prosecutor.
COURT. Q. Were you in uniform when you crossed Oxford-street with Dixon? A. No; I was in plain clothes, but the prosecutor knew I was in search of Dixon.
COURT to L. J. TOMKIN. Q. You say that Dixon said when you took him, "Cannot we refer to the parties to-night, and have it settled?" and afterwards you said it was, "I want to see the parties who accuse me," which was it? A. When I took him he said, "Cannot I refer to the parties to-night, to see them, and then we can settle it?"
The prisoner Dixon in his Defence stated that Ballard had concocted her evidence in revenge upon him, for occasionally living with the female prisoner; that it was impossible for the prosecutor to identify any person fifty yards from a lamp on a dark rainy night; that he must have been mistaken for another man, and that the prosecutor could not have pointed him out without Ballard's assistance, who pointed him out by saying "There he comes" and who knew that he was to be found in Oxford-street, unconscious of being wanted; that the prosecutor was not to be believed, at he could not have been going home with the female with only 1 s . 8 1/2 d. in his pocket; that the sudden terror and excitement had disconcerted his brain, and that the Magistrate agreeed in the remark, that if the prosecutor was disqualified from undergoing examination, he was also disqualified from identifying a man, and that when charged he acknowledged his name, and requested to be taken before his accusers.
The officer Tomkin stated that the female prisoner was a prostitute, and her brother a swindler, and that Dixon had been charged with assaulting the police. Mr. Siser, a surgeon, stated that the prosecutor's wounds were very severe and dangerous, but that he had recovered.
THOMAS RADSHAW and DIXON.— Twenty Years' each in Penal Servitude.
CHARLOTTE RADSHAW.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
DANIEL SOLLY . I am a seaman belonging to the Albion steamboat, which was lying off Fresh-wharf on 8th November—about half-past 12 o'clock that night, I was going down Lower Thames-street, and met the prisoners—Lester asked me whether I could get him a bed—I said, "Yes, there is a man named Lightfoot, who keeps a house near here; I will see and get you one if I can"—he immediately struck me under the ear, and knocked me down—I was senseless for the moment—I called out for assistance, and they both ran away—when I was on the ground my money was taken from my pockets, a half-crown, three shillings, and some halfpence—they also took my cap.
Lester. I am innocent. I never saw the man till he gave me in charge. I was going to see a friend, and had to go on board my ship next morning. I went into a water-closet, and the policeman found me there half asleep. This is a thing I have never been guilty of in my life, as God is my judge.
Harvey. I was passing through Thames-street, and saw the prosecutor speaking to a man, but this is not the man. I was going to Nelson's-buildings, on the fifth floor, and heard a cry of "Murder" and "Police;" up came a policeman, and asked me what I was doing there—I said that I wanted to see a man, and he took me to the station-house. There were a lot of detectives at the Mansion-house, but none of them knew us. I never saw the prosecutor before, and he does not say that I knocked him down.
COURT. Q. You say that Lester spoke to you, and struck you? A. yes—I recognise his face—the other man did not strike me, but stood with his hands in his pockets—I looked at them both—I did not know either of them before.
JOSEPH WALE (City-policeman, 563). On the night of 8th November I was on duty in Lower Thames-street, and saw the prosecutor—he was quite sober, but was staggering on the pavement, having just recovered from a fall—I asked him what was the matter—he said, "I have been knocked down, and robbed"—I said, "Do you know where they are gone?"—he pointed to Wilson's Barracks, and said, "They are gone up there"—I went to the bottom of the staircase, and in a water-closet on the fourth landing I found Lester, and asked him what he did there—he said, "I have come to see Mr. Green"—I went up, and found that a Mr. Green did live in the building, but had gone to bed—he got up, and I asked him in Lester's presence, if he knew Lester—he looked at him, and said, "Yes, I know him"—I said, "When did you see him last?"—he said, "Not for the last six months"—that he had lodged in his house six months ago"—it is a place let out in lodgings to seamen—I held him there while my brother constable went up stairs—Mr. Green locked the door, and went in—my brother constable called out, "Here is the other one," and Lester and I went up stairs, and found Harvey concealed in a room on the fifth floor—I found this cap (produced) on the second landing, coming down stairs—Lester had his trousers down—Mr. Green was undressed: I had some difficulty in making him hear—I searched Lester, but found nothing.
Lester. I had only been a week ashore, and went to see Mr. Green, as I was going next morning.
Harvey. Q. Can you say positively that I took off your cap? A. I can't say who took it off, I was knocked down senseless—I saw that the two men who attacked me both went into the building where the cap was found.
THOMAS SWALES (City-policeman, 600). I heard screams of "Murder" and "Police" on 8th November, and went with Wale, and found Lester in a water-closet—I left him with Wale, went up to the fifth floor, and found Harvey concealed in a room, standing in a corner, with his back to the wall—he was behind the door, at the back of a table—I turned on my light, and asked him what he was doing there—he made no reply—I called up the owner of the room, a man named Carter, who said that he never saw the man before—I took him to the station, and found on him a knife and a comb, but no money.
Harvey. Q. I told you that I came to see a man named Reynolds, who lived there? A. No, you made no reply—the room was all darkness.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
EDWIN JOHN BURT . I am a clerk in the Examiner's-office at the Custom-house—on 1st November, between 7 and half-past, in the evening, I was in Fenchurch-street—a woman came up and made an observation, and I told her to be off—I did not notice whether she followed me, but a few yards further on I took out my purse where there was a light, as I wished to see for a coin I wanted—on attempting to return it to my pocket the same woman snatched it out of my hand, and ran down Church-row—I ran after her, calling "Stop thief"—having proceeded thirty or forty yards, I heard a whistle, and a man came in front of me from some small archway or doorway—that man was Hall—he pushed me in the chest, and said, "What is your game? where are you going?"—I said, "Stand aside; a woman has stolen a purse, and I am after her"—he said, "Oh, nonsense!" and stopped me effectually—I intended to go back again, but on turning round, I found two other men, who must have come down the court from Fenchurch-street, as there is no passage there which they could have come out of, and I did not observe any other passengers—one of those men was Leat and the third man escaped—one got me by my collar, and another by my left arm—I sprang away, and said, "I see what it is"—I swung my stick round, and it came in contact with the head of the man who has escaped—he then made off, and then I struck Hall on the back of the neck two or three times—I tried to strike Leat, but cannot say whether I did or not, but I kept hold of him—he is the man who took hold of me by the collar, and pressed me—this is the stick (produced)—it is a powerful one, and is loaded with lead—I kept following Leat, sometimes holding him, sometimes losing him, but never losing sight of him till I got to St. Mary Axe—he was never more than two or three yards from me—I was still struggling with him there when a constable came up with Hall in custody—I identified him, saying, "That is an accomplice"—I recognised him instantly—he made some remark to the constable, but I was perfectly exhausted, and did not hear it—the constable took Leat.
Hall. Q. Did you see me with the woman? A. I did not—if I said so at the Mansion-house, I stated an error.
Leat. Q. Did you not say, at the Mansion-house, that you never saw me? A. I did not—you asked me, "Did you see my face?" and I said, "I did not notice your face; but I never lost sight of your person"—you held me by the back of my neck.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. At any time, from the moment of the attack to the time the policeman came up, did you lose sight of him? A. Never—I am
perfectly certain that the man I pursued and took was one of the men who collared me—there were no other parties near me.
ALFRED FENNELL . I am a clerk in an insurance office—I was passing through St. Mary Axe, about half-past 7 o'clock, and saw a few persons congregated together—I walked towards them, and saw the constable Turner come up to the prosecutor with a man in custody—the prosecutor was then struggling with Leat, and was perfectly exhausted—I said, in the prisoner's hearing, "Hallo, Turner, what is the matter here?"—he said, "Please to assist me"—I said, "I will"—I had a parcel in my hand—Leat appealed to me, saying, "You hear what the prosecutor says; he says I am one of them"—I followed to the station, watching that they did not take anything from their pockets—the struggle I saw was when Leat was struggling to get away from the prosecutor—Leat had a loose-sleeve cape on, which the prosecutor had hold of.
JURY. Q. Was Leat excited? A. He was exhausted, as if he had been running; I could see that.
WILLIAM TURNER (City-policeman, 641). On Friday evening, 21st November, I was on duty in Great St. Helen's, and heard cries of "Stop thief!"—Hall came running down a dark passage, in Great St. Helen's, toward me—I caught him in my arms—he said, "What do you stop me fort?"—I said, "You must come back with me; we will see"—I took him into St. Mary Axe, and saw a crowd of persons surrounding the prosecutor, who was holding Leat—he said, "That is the man who held me by the back of the neck, while the woman robbed me"—Leat said to Mr. Fennell, "You hear what the prosecutor says; that I am one"—I immediately called on the bystanders, and Mr. Fennell followed to see that they did not drop anything—they both gave me their addresses, and I made inquiries about them.
Hall. Q. I gave my right address, 17, Warwick-street, Blackfriars-road; did you go there? A. Yes; and they disowned you—they said that a man named Hall worked at the iron-founder's, but he was an elderly man; and persons came to the Mansion-house, and said that he was not the man.
Leat. I gave my address, 7, Arter-street, Kingsland-road. Witness. You said Hackney-road—I went there and found it was false—I then went to Arter-street, Kingsland-road, and that was false.
E. J. BURT (re-examined). I saw Hall's face—there was a gas-light in front of him, in Church-row, which shone on his face—he was taken to the station, placed among others, and I selected him—it was Leat who seized me by the back of the neck.
GUILTY .—The officer Turner stated that a communication had been received from Bristol, stating that Leat had been tried there for highway robbery with violence, and that he had also been sentenced to four years' penal servitude at Glasgow.
Five Years' each in Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, November 27th, 1862.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN RUTHERFORD . I am in the employment of Mr. Bewley and another, who carry on business as "The Gutta Percha Company," in Wharf-road, City-road—I have been in their service between nine and ten years—I have known the prisoner about eighteen months—I first became acquainted with him at his shop in Gray's-inn-lane—it is a gutta percha shop, and he sells boots as well—I went to his shop first, with four pounds weight of gutta percha—that was about eighteen months ago—I had obtained that from the masticating room of the Gutta Percha Company's Works, where I was employed—I had no authority to take it; I stole it—I asked the prisoner whether he bought it—he said, "Yes," he gave 8d. a pound—I sold it to him—I think he gave me 2s. 8d. then—that was the first time I saw him—I did not tell him who I was or where I lived; nothing was said by him as to that—nothing was said about my returning to the shop again—I went there again, about a fortnight afterwards, with sixteen pounds weight of gutta percha, which I obtained in the same way—I sold it to the prisoner for the same price—after I had been there once or twice more, the prisoner said to me he knew where I worked, because he had seen me come out of the factory gate—I had some gutta percha at the time he said that—that was some time last summer—I did not see him till about three weeks after that, I think, when I met him accidentally at the corner of Edward-street—that is about 250 yards from the gutta percha factory—he asked me if I had got anything by me—I told him no; I would get him some—I afterwards went to his place again, with about eighteen pounds weight—my lodgings were at Vaughan-terrace, Shepherdess-walk—I lodged there two years ago—I have left about four or five months—I saw the prisoner near my lodgings after I had sold him the eighteen pounds—he asked me again if I had anything by me—I told him no; I would bring him some down—I afterwards went to his shop in Gray's-inn-lane, and took about twenty pounds that time—that was before last Christmas; at the latter end of October or the beginning of November, I can't say which—I went to his shop twice after Christmas—the last time was in April—I then took eighteen pounds of gutta percha—I sold that at 8d. a pound—I sold it all at 8d.—it was all stolen by me from the factory.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How long have you been a thief? A. Eighteen months; not before that—I began to steal the gutta percha about April—that is the only thing I have stolen—I am in the employment of the Gutta Percha Company—I am not there now—I have not been discharged—I have not been there this week—I do not expect to go back again—I should say they will not take me back; I am not sure of that—I was employed up to last Friday—I sold the prisoner altogether about eleven lots—I have sold to two other persons besides the prisoner—I cannot tell whether they will be here next sessions—I have only sold to two others; that is all—I gave their names up to the Company.
MR. POLAND. Q. Did a woman named Pearson sometimes go with you to the prisoner's shop? A. Yes—I am living with her as my wife.
ELIZABETH PEARSON . I have been living with the last witness about eight years—I know the prisoner's shop in Gray's-inn-lane—I have been there with Rutherford—he has taken gutta percha, and the prisoner has bought it at 8d. a pound—I have only been there twice or three times—I can't swear positively to the third time, but the second I can—I remember the prisoner coming twice to our lodgings, at Vaughan-terrace, Shepherdess-walk—I can't exactly say when it was he first came—I know it was in the summer;
after Easter—he asked for Rutherford—he was at home on the first occasion—the prisoner came a second time and asked if Rutherford was at home—I said, "No; he has just gone back to the factory from his dinner"—I asked him what he wanted of him; and he said he wanted to see him, to tell him not to bring any more just then, because there was a row, or some bother, at the factory—that was about a month or six weeks before Whitsuntide, this year—the summer I alluded to was the summer of last year; not of this year—I know where the factory is—I have seen the prisoner in the factory—I have known him to go there and wait for Rutherford to come out of the factory—I have seen him waiting for him—I have seen him wait in a public-house till the other men had gone, and then speak to Rutherford—I knew that the gutta percha that was taken to the prisoner's shop was stolen—some time in September last, Rutherford and I were taken to the prisoner's shop by a police officer.
Cross-examined. Q. You are not married to Rutherford? A. No—I have no children—I did not live with anybody else before I lived with him—he has been thieving for eighteen months—I knew of one other person to whom he sold, but I have heard since there were two—I heard that, when the charge was taken—I knew of one, but I never was there; I never knew where it was—we did not spend the money together—I always worked for all I spent—I don't know what he did with the money he got for the gutta percha—I believe the greater portion of it was spent with Mr. Cornell—I have gone there at 2 o'clock in the morning and seen them drinking together, and he has come home at 3 or 4 o'clock in the morning from Cornell's—he did not bring home the money to me—I first found out that he had been stealing, when I went to the shop with him—that is about fifteen months ago, I should think—it was the summer of last year when the prisoner first came to Rutherford—I am not a walking almanack—I have had nothing to do with thieving—I have not a stain on my character, so far as that goes—I have every reason to believe that Rutherford will not go back to the factory—I should not think a firm would employ a thief after they have found him out, whatever they might do before.
MR. POLAND. Q. How do you get your living? A. I am an ostrich-feather maker by trade, but I have been working latterly at cap-making.
ELIZA HACKNEY . I life at 2, Percival-street, Clerkenwell—I used to work at cap-making, at Rutherford's, in Vaughan-terrace, Shepherdess-walk—I know the prisoner by sight—I have seen him at Vaughan-terrace once—that was about a month before last Whitsuntide—he saw Mrs. Rutherford—the last witness used to go by the name of Mrs. Rutherford—Mr. Rutherford was not at home—he stayed there about five or ten minutes—I did not hear what took place.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. I am a servant at present; not at Mrs. Rutherford's; at 405, City-road—I was making caps at Mrs. Rutherford's—I was first asked about this, about eight weeks ago, at the police-court—some gentleman asked me the same as that gentleman has asked me—the prisoner was present—no one had asked me about it before that—I knew about it.
COURT. Q. How came you to go to the police-court? A. They brought a summons for Miss Hume, my mother's lodger, to go—I had not told her anything about it—I don't think I had told anybody about it before I went to the police-court.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Were you shown this man at the police-court? A. No—Mr. Cornell passed the door, and I said it was him—his name was on the
paper that was brought to me—Mrs. Rutherford was talking to the policeman, and Miss Hume and I were there too, and Mrs. Rutherford said to me, "You know that man that came to our house?"—I said, "Yes"—she said, "You would know him again?" and I said, "Yes"—I had never seen him before he came to the house, to my knowledge—I saw him for about ten minutes—I was in the room while he was there—I did not take any notice of what he said—he spoke to me—I did not hear what he said to Mrs. Rutherford—I did not see him leave the house—I think he had a moustache; I would not be perfectly certain—he had either whiskers or moustache; I think it was a moustache—he had neither hat nor cap on.
MR. POLAND. Q. Have you any doubt that the prisoner is the man who came into that room? A. No; I believe he is the man—Mrs. Rutherford left the room with him—I remained in the room with Miss Hume.
ELIZABETH HUME . I live at 72, Margaret-street, Clerken well—I used to work for Mrs. Rutherford at cap-making—I remember being at her lodgings, in Vaughan-terrace, sometime before Whitsuntide last—the last witness was working there with me—I remember a man coming into the room where we were at work—I think he stayed half an hour, as near as I can recollect—the prisoner is something like him, but I could not swear to him.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first screw up your courage to say he was something like him; is not this the first time you have ever ventured to say that? A. No; I have said it before—I said it at the police-court—I can't swear to him—the detective first spoke to me about this.
HERBERT STAMMERS (Policeman, N 136). On 26th September last, I went to the prisoner's shop, in Gray's-inn-lane—it is a place where they sell gutta percha, and repair boots and shoes with gutta percha—the prisoner was in the shop—I told him I was a police-officer, and that there had been a great many robberies at the gutta percha factory, in the Wharf-road, City-road, and that I had got a man and woman in custody for stealing gutta percha from there (that was not Mr. and Mrs. Rutherford; two other persons)—I asked him if he remembered buying any about four or six months ago—he at first made no answer, and afterwards said, "Yes"—I asked him if he knew of whom—he said, "No"—I asked him if he had got any by him—he said, "No"—I asked him how much a pound he gave for it—he said, "Eightpence"—I asked him if he entered the purchases in a book—he said, "Yes," and showed me a book—I found only one purchase about that time, four or six months before—he said the reason he did not buy any more was because he thought there was something wrong—I then left the shop—I went again on 30th September, and took Rutherford and Elizabeth Pearson with me into the shop—the prisoner was there, and I said to him, "Do you remember buying any gutta percha of these people?"—he looked at them, and said, "No"—I said, "Do you know them?"—he said, "No; I don't know that I ever saw them before in my life"—I said to Rutherford, "Is this the man you sold it to?"—he said, "Yes; that's the man," and Pearson said, "Yes; and I was with him at the time"—the prisoner said, "I don't know anything of them"—I said, "I must take you in custody on a charge of receiving a quantity of gutta percha, well knowing it to be stolen—he said, "Very well," and made no further reply—I took him to the police-station, and next day to the police-court—in the waiting-room there, he said to me, "I remember buying some of him now; I wish I had remembered it at the time, but I was so confused I scarcely knew what I said."
Cross-examined. Q. You searched his house, I believe, and found nothing?
A. No; nothing that I thought belonged to the gutta peroha company—I found nothing wrong—he did not say he gave 18d. a pound for it—I looked in the book, and saw 8d. there—I am sure of that—I have not got the book—I left it at the shop—I did not look at the date of the purchase—it was about the time I alluded to, four or six months ago—it would be almost impossible for me to tell the date—I did not take particular notice of it—when I saw it there were only three or four leaves—the prisoner pointed out one entry—I did not look through the book myself—I won't say what the date was—I did not look enough.
MR. POLAND. Q. Have you seen the prisoner about the book since? A. I took a subpœna for him to produce the book on his trial—I saw him at the time (MR. POLAND called for the book; it was not produced)—the first day I went to the prisoner's house was the 26th.
ARTHUR GRANVILLE . I am clerk and overlooker at the gutta percha works, which belong to Henry Bewley and another—Rutherford was em-ployed there, in what is called the masticating-room, where the gutta percha is soft and warm, and a workman employed there could easily take a portion of it away—it is worth from two shillings to half-a-crown a pound—the average price of that from the masticating-room in the lump is about two shillings a pound—I know the prisoner now—I have heard of his being a customer of ours: I know he was, by the name in the books.
Cross-examined. Q. The prices vary, do they not? A. Yes; some are a shilling a pound; not lower than that—I think there were three remands in this case—I believe, on the last occasion, Mr. Wontner said he could get additional evidence—I don't know whether he failed to keep his promise—Rutherford has not been discharged yet—I don't know what the principals will do: I am only a servant, as he is.
COURT. Q. What is the value of the gutta percha that comes from your masticating-room? A. There are various qualities, good and bad, but we believe that which was stolen was worth two shillings a pound—there might be some as low as a shilling.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his previous
good character.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH PITT . I am one of the firm of William and Joseph Pitt, brothers, at Lockheaton, in Yorkshire, sewing-machine manufacturers—the prisoner was a customer of ours, and he carried on business for a certain time at 27, Walbrook, London—prior to July he was indebted to our firm 40l. or 50l.—on 7th July, he called at our place of business at Lockheaton—he said he had come down to buy some more machines—I called his attention to the state of the account, and he said, "Well, I have two bills here," producing them, "and I will give them towards the account" this (produced) is one of them—it is for 18l. 15s. 6d., dated 1st July, 1862, at three months, drawn by E. Braundbeck, 27, Walbrook, London, and accepted by W. Peters and Co., 25, George-street, Commercial-road, London—I accepted that bill and the other in part discharge of our account—we asked him if they were good, and he said, "I will guarantee them as good as the Bank of England"—I then saw him endorse the bills—on the faith of those bills we supplied him with further goods—about a fortnight before the bill reached maturity
I again saw the prisoner, at 27, Walbrook—I then asked him more particularly about the address of the parties by whom the bill was accepted—I said, "Where is this address, George-street?"—he said it was in the Commercial-road—I asked where this Commercial-road was—he said, "In Whitechapel; why do you want to know?"—I said, "I am going down there"—he said if I would wait till the day after, he would go with me—the next day he said he was busy, and made an excuse, and a day or two after that I went down myself—the bill had not become due at that time—I made inquiries—I found George-street, but I could not find No. 25—that number was not in the street—I did not find W. Peter's and Co., nor any one of that name.
COURT. Q. Did you make every inquiry you could? A. Yes—I am satisfied there were no such persons or any such number—I have not been down since the bill became due.
Prisoner. Q. How did you come to the conclusion that it was a forged bill? A. I had other bills in my possession, and I compared it with other signatures—it was not from information given to me by the witness Christmas—he had not left your employ at the time—previous to the bill coming due we took you by capias to Whitecross-street prison—that was for debt, because you had stated in my presence, and in the presence of other witnesses, that you were going to leave the country—it was not from what Christmas told us, nothing of the kind—I made an affidavit upon the subject; Christmas did not—when you paid in these two bills you did not pay any on your own acceptance—we had your acceptance in our possession to a larger amount, 31l.—we got it from Abrahams, the man that you were employed by at the time—we did not know you at the time we took your acceptance; I had merely spoken to you—that bill for 31l. was drawn by J. D. Abrahams, of Manchester, and accepted by you—Abrahams shortly after that failed, and we said to you, "There is a bill here of your acceptance for 31l.; what about that?"—you said you had never received a farthing value for it, and we believed you, and asked if you would undertake to meet that bill when it became due; if so, we would supply you with the amount for it—the bill was paid, but you had the value in goods—Christmas is in our employ now—he has been with us about three weeks—we have opened a shop in London since you were arrested, in the same line of business as you were—I have never been summoned before a Magistrate—I have been twice before a County-court Judge, and in each case have had the verdict—I decline to answer whether I have been in Wakefield gaol for felony—I will explain it, when we are apprenticed, it is very customary for persons who begin business for themselves, to get patterns, and there is no way of getting them except by buying them; the prosecutor knew I had taken them, and charged me with stealing them—he had been charged with the same offence—I pleaded guilty—I could not deny having taken them, I was advised to plead guilty—I took them away at night, and brought them back the next morning—we have been ten years in business, and nothing has occurred against our characters since then—the witness Wilkinson, who is here, is not in my service.
MR. LILLEY. Q. How long ago is it since this matter happened about these patterns? A. Rather better than ten years ago—since that time I have been carrying on business in that neighbourhood in partnership with my three brothers, and that business a very extensive and respectable one—the second bill we received from the prisoner was for 16l. 10s.—that was not paid.
HUBERT WILKINSON . I live at 270, Camberwell New-road, and am a dealer in sewing-machines—I have known the prisoner about eighteen months—I employed him as my clerk between four and five months—during that time I have frequently seen him write, and am thereby acquainted with the character of his handwriting—the acceptance to this bill of exchange is in his handwriting.
Prisoner. Q. Do you recollect what you said at the police-court? A. I swore that I believed it was your writing—I swear now that it is your writing, only I can't swear that you wrote it because I did not see you write it—I recognised this as your writing before I knew the circumstances of the case at all—I heard of this case a few days before I saw you at the Bankruptcy Court—I saw the bill in Mr. Benham's hands, and recognised your signature before I knew anything about it—I was fetched by Benham to give evidence against you before the Magistrate—I volunteered my evidence, from what I had heard at the Bankruptcy Court—you were travelling on commission for me, and you were employed under me as a clerk, at 27, Walbrook—the name of the firm was "Abrahams, Pitt, and Co."—Abrahams did not engage you—I employed you for myself—I saw you write then, on many occasions—I have seen you write letters, business letters and your own letters, as many as twenty times—I am not in the service of Pitt now—I am frequently at his new place of business, but only on my own business—Pitt and Christmas have not told me what to say—they have expressed their conviction, in my hearing, that it was your handwriting; but it is from my own knowledge of your writing that I come hare—I am selling sewing-machines now, on commission—I have not been paid anything by Pitt for coming here—I am allowed my expenses—I was wth Abrahams, Pitt, and Co. about six months—I was discharged, because the firm was about to break up, which it did shortly afterwards—you remained there after I left, because you took it into your own hands—I have expressed no anger at all about that—I don't recollect saying it was through you I left—I bear no malice from that circumstance—I did not leave because I accepted bills in the name of Abraham, Pitt, and Co.—I accepted bills by their authority, in their names—I was discharged.
MR. LILLEY. Q. You accepted bills, but with the authority of the firm? A. Yes—that had nothing to do directly with my leaving.
JOHN WILLIAM CHRISTMAS . I reside at 27, Castle-street, Holborn, and am a dealer in sewing-machines—I have known the prisoner nearly two years, and was during that time for six weeks in his employment—I have had opportunities of knowing the character of his handwriting, and have seen him write frequently—I believe the acceptance to this bill to be in the prisoner's handwriting—he discharged me about the beginning of September—previous to my leaving, I remember copying the bills into a new bill-book, and as I copied each I spoke to him about them—there was amongst others a reference made to the one for 18l. 15l. 6d.—I asked whether that was a good bill, and would it be met, as I had asked him, with all the others—he said Peters and Co. were nobody, and he would have to meet it himself.
Prisoner. Q. When I told you that, did not I, at the same time tell you that Peters had gone abroad, and I could not find him? A. You did not, on my oath—I went to Pitt about a week after I left you—I did not tell him the bill was a forgery—I told him I thought it was an accommodation bill, and he said he had been to the address, and could not find any Peters and Co., and then I repeated the conversation you had had with me—I was not aware that you were about to leave the country—I did not tell Pitt so
—I don't know whether Coome's was an accommodation bill or not—I did not make the inquiries—I am in the service of Pitt now—I was discharged by you for not waiting in the evening till your return.
COURT. Q. Looking at this bill, do you believe that it is accepted by Peters and Co.? A. I do not; I believe it is the prisoner's handwriting.
EDWARD GUEST . I carry on business as a merchant, in Southampton-buildings—I have known the prisoner five or six years—during that time I have had frequent opportunities of seeing him write—this "Accepted, W. Peters and Co.," across this bill is in the prisoner's handwriting.
Prisoner. Q. You are speaking from your belief, I suppose, you are not positive? A. It is so peculiar, that it is almost impossible for it to be any body else's—I have signatures of yours, of Braundbeck and Co., and the "and Co." is so very peculiar—I have been in Southampton-buildings about two months—I have not been asked by Pitt to come here—I gave evidence against you at Guildhall, and I came here—Wilkinson said you were so dangerous a man he was glad to leave you—I once carried on business with Christmas at Barge-yard for about two years—I was dealing in elastic, and also negotiating loans—you wanted to negotiate a loan, but I saw your name in the paper in a case of perjury, and would have nothing to do with you—from Barge-yard, I went to 5, Dean's-road, Walworth-road—that was about nine months ago—I was there about twelve months—I have since been carrying on business in elastic web, and also selling for Messrs. Thorpe, of Sheffield, who introduced you to me unfortunately.
THOMAS LANE . I am principal warder of Whitecross-street prison—the prisoner was given into my custody for debt on 4th October, and was in my custody when he was charged with this offence, on 31st October—I conveyed him to Guildhall myself.
The prisoner stated that he had several witnesses, who were called, but did not answer; he then proceeded in a long statement to comment on the evidence of the witnesses, who, he stated, were swearing his liberty away, on purpose to open a place of business in the same line as he himself would otherwise have done; that when he discharged Christmas, they had parted with high words, and from that time he had been his enemy, and was the cause of his present position.
GUILTY .— Three Years' Penal Servitude.
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Confined Eighteen Months each.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN HENRY KOLLE . I am a merchant, carrying on business at 65, Queen-street, Cheapside—on 20th November, about half-past 6, I was on Blackfriars-bridge, looking at the fire, which was then burning—I had this overcoat on, buttoned as it is now—I happened to look down, and found the lower button unbuttoned—I felt to see if my watch was safe, and then saw it in the hand of the prisoner—I immediately seized him, and called, "Stop thief"—the watch was withdrawn, and I saw the prisoner distinctly drop it down, exactly where he was when I seized him—a boy afterwards handed it to me—the watch was worth about 10l.—a detective came up, and I gave the prisoner into custody—I only called "Stop thief," in order that he might not get away—I never left go of him—the little ring of the watch is broken—this is it (produced)—it was broken at the top.
Cross-examined by MR. COLLINS. Q. There was a tremendous number of persons on the bridge, was there not? A. Yes, a great number—my watch was fastened by a chain—that did not go too—I had my watch in my waistcoat pocket—I did not see the prisoner before—he was immediately in front of me—he was the nearest of all, quite close to me; not three inches from me—I felt a hand inside my coat—I put my hand down and the watch was out as far as the chain would allow it—I seized the prisoner's arm, because I thought I should be able to hold him better—he struggled to get away—the boy is here who gave me the watch—he rushed forward and picked it up.
WILLIAM HUTCHINSON . I was standing on Blackfriars-bridge last Thursday evening, next to the prosecutor, looking at the fire, and he called out, "You have got my watch"—I turned round and saw the prisoner drop it out of his hand—I picked it up and tried to give it to the prosecutor, but there were so many hands tried to get it, that I held it for a minute—the detective then came up, and I gave up the watch.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. A labourer—there were a great many people looking at the fire; they wanted to get the watch from me—a large number of people saw me with the watch.
THOMAS SMART . I am a detective-officer—I was on Blackfriars-bridge about half-past 6 on 20th November, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and turning round, saw the prosecutor holding the prisoner—I took hold of the prisoner, and immediately the last witness held up the watch and said, "I have got it"—I clutched at it, and held it till I found the right owner—there were a lot more persons' hands held up, who said it was theirs—I have no doubt they were thieves—there were a great many on the bridge then.
Cross-examined. Q. You clasped the boy's hand? A. yes; I thought the watch would be safer in my hand sthan his—that was my object in getting it.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
BARLING SHARP . I am a builder, at Lea, in Essex—on Tuesday morning, 25th of this month, I went into the Railway Tavern, in Fenchurch-street, about half-past 8 in the morning—I was standing at the bar taking some refreshment—whilst doing so, a man spoke to me about a fight or something, and I felt a tug at my watch—I had got a silk guard round my neck, and a gold Albert in my button-hole—I just turned my head, and saw the prisoner's hand—I said, "You devil, you have got my watch"—I caught hold of him, and saw him pass the watch to somebody else—the bow was broken off the watch, and both the guards were broken—the watch and chain were worth 10l.—I gave the prisoner into custody—I am sure he is the man who did it—I saw it in his hand.
Prisoner. Q. Were you not talking to a lot of men at the time? A. To one man—you did not offer to let me search you—you did not pull off your coat.
GODWIN BECKINGHAM . I live at Smardon, in Kent—I was with the last witness, who is a friend of mine, at this tavern, standing at the bar—I saw a man talking to him, and then heard him call out something—my attention was turned, and I saw the watch in the prisoner's hand, and then saw
him pass it to another man—I could not see what became of him; there were so many there—there were a good many betting people there.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutor was talking to a lot of betting men, and wanted to lay some money on some fight. He was drunk. He turned round, and said he had lost his watch, and caught hold of me. I said, "I have not got it, search me." I said, "Shut all the doors in the house, and search everybody in the place." I was not against the man when he lost it. He came and caught hold of me.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Two Months.
RACHEL WASP . I live at 5, Barking-churchyard—a little after 3 in the afternoon of 7th November, I was in Cannon-street, and saw the prisoner go up to a carriage which was standing by the kerb, put his arm in at the window, and take a leather bag out—he then walked slowly away—I told the coachman, and he instantly got down and went after him—the prisoner ran then—I stopped till he was brought back, and then the coachman and the policeman asked me if that was the man who took it, and I said, "Yes"—he had dropped the bag, I believe—I did not see him drop it.
Prisoner. Q. Are you quite sure it was me that took it out of the carriage? A. Quite certain; you walked down towards the King William statue—where you turned then, I cannot say.
EDWIN JOHN JARVIS . I am a carrier—I was just turning down Nicholas-lane, when I saw the prisoner coming along, running very fast, with a leather bag in his hand—there was nobody after him—I made way to let him pass—I thought he was trying to catch a bus or something—I am sure it was the prisoner—that was about 4 o'clock, or half-past, I should think—he was running from Cannon-street to King William-street.
Prisoner. Q. You said at the Mansion-house that when I was running by you, a gentleman was calling, "Stop thief?" A. There was no cry of "Stop thief!"—I heard the cry of "Stop thief!" after you passed me, or I should have stopped you—directly I heard the cry, I turned round and gave chase, followed close behind you, down King William-street to Lombard-street, and you were stopped by some persons just by the post-office—you threw the bag away on your passage.
Mr. Henry de Lezeu, the owner of the bag, was called on his recognizance; but he did not appear to identify the property stolen, and the Court directed the Jury to acquit the prisoner on that ground.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH NIND . I am a paper-hanger, carrying on business at 84, Fleet-street—on Thursday, November 20th, about a quarter-past 3, I was in the basement of the house, and my mother called me up—I came up, and in consequence of what she said to me, I went out and saw the prisoner in
Wine-office-court carrying a bundle of marble papers—I got some distance up the court before he saw me; he then threw the bundle from his shoulder and ran away—I followed him—he turned round from the top of Wine-office court, and I followed him through several streets, to the bottom of New-wharf—part of the way down there is a building, and he went round the bottom of that—I turned through and came face to face with him—I stopped him, and before I had time to speak, he said, "I am not the man that took the paper from Mr. Nind's shop—I said to him, "You appear to know a very great deal about it, then"—I had lost sight of him at some of the corners—he had slackened his pace when I met him face to face—when I came up to the bundle of paper, a boy was standing there, and I said, "If you will take care of that while I catch the prisoner, I will reward you"—when I came back, I found it removed a very little higher up, in charge of the boy—after I caught the prisoner, I brought him up New-wharf into Bouverie-street, and there a mob of ruffianly fellows tried to rescue him, but with the help of a party I knew, I took him to Fleet-street, and gave him in charge of a constable—this is my paper (produced)—it was safe in our shop before—one of our men had only shortly before tied it up—I did not notice it after it was tied up.
EMMA NIND . I was in the parlour adjoining the shop 84, Fleet-street, on the afternoon of 20th November, about a quarter-past 3, and saw the prisoner going out of the shop-door with the paper on his shoulder—I called my son up from the basement, gave him information, and he went after him—I pointed him out to him—I went to the door and watched him across from Salisbury-square, on the side of our house, and saw him take of his hat, and walk with it a little distance in his hand—I watched him about twenty doors further on the other side of the way, and then lost sight of him—he was crossing the road in the direction of Wine-office-court, carrying the paper all the time—the paper was standing nearly in the middle of the shop—I had seen it safe a very little time before.
Prisoner. Q. Can you positively swear it was me that took the paper? A. I did not see your face, but I could declare that the man had a brown coal on—his back was to me—I cannot swear positively to his face—I have not the slightest doubt you are the man.
GEORGE EDWARDS (City-policeman, 343). The prisoner was given into my custody by Mr. Nind—I searched him at the station, and found this knife tied up with a piece of string—he gave the address of a lodging-house in Westminster—he did not know the house or the name of the street, but he knew the landlord—I went to several lodging houses at Westminster—at one they thought they knew a man answering his description, but could say nothing about him.
Prisoner's Defence. I am a hard-working man. I was coming up this street after business, when this man stopped me and accused me of robbery.
GUILTY .*— Confined Twelve Months.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, November 27th, 1862.
PRESENT—Mr. RECORDER and Mr. Ald. ABBISS.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
The evidence given in the New Court yesterday was repeated (see page 47).
GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months each.
74. THOMAS HUDSON (32), JOHN COLLINS (34), and JOSEPH HIBBERT (32), Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Stockley, and stealing therein 12 bundles of cigars, his property.
MESSRS. METCALFE and ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH STOCKLEY . I am the wife of William Stockley, who keeps the Pakenham public-house on Knightsbridge-green, in the parish of St. Margaret's, Westminster—on Wednesday night, 15th October, I left the bar and went found, and saw the house was fastened—I went to bed between 1 and 2—at 5 o'clock next morning I was rung up by the police, and found two policemen in the bar—the till had been cleared of the copper, which was the only coin left; there was about five shillings in halfpence and farthings—I missed also twelve bundles of cigars, and some spirits—there were marks that showed some one had got in through the fanlight, which had been left open—Hudson had some potman's work in the house, and Collins was conductor in the concert-room, or something of that sort—Hibbert uses the house—Hudson had been there that night—I think he left about 1—it was between 1 and 2 when Collins left—he left last—my waiter let him out.
WILLIAM KING (Policeman, B 257). On Thursday morning, 16th October, I was passing the Pakenham, about 3 or half-past—at 5 o'clock I found the door open—I called Mr. Stockley up—the first time I passed I saw Hudson standing a few yards off from the door—I did not speak to him—he said, "Good morning" to me and passed on, and I saw no more of him—I then went to a coffee-house, and there saw the other two prisoners—I spoke to them—they followed me out—they had had their heads resting on the table, apparently asleep—they went towards the Pakenham—I saw no more of them that night.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER (for Hibbert). Q. How far were you off Hudson when you saw him? A. As close as I am to the Jury—I did not speak to him—he said, "Good morning" to me—I came to the corner where he stood, and I passed on—I was not walking all the time—he had on the same clothes as he had now, and a "wide-awake"—it had a broad brim.
W. JAMES HOLDEN (Police-inspector). On Thursday, 16th October, I was called to the Pakenham—I examined the doors—I found marks on the shutters as of somebody's toes, and on the fanlight I found marks of a hand, and on the partition, about three or four feet from the fanlight, I found the marks of a man's boot—it was clear that somebody had got in through the fanlight.
JAMES BENNETT (Policeman, B 333). On Wednesday night, 15th October, I was on duty in Raphael-street, near to Knightsbridge—at about half-past 12, I was near the Pakenham—I saw Hudson and Collins together—they went to the Royal Oak public-house in Raphael-street—I saw them come out, near about 2 o'clock—Hudson said, "Good night," and went towards the Pakenham—I saw him a short time afterwards just against the Pakenham, talking with a woman—Collins and Hibbert were there—they were all three together—it was then a short time after 2—I went up and spoke to them, and they went away—I went round my beat—at a quarter to 3, I saw Hibbert with the woman at the corner of the Pakenham—I did not see the other two—this was on a Thursday, and I took Hibbert into custody on the Sunday week following—I told him he was charged, with
two others in custody, with breaking into the Pakenham public-house—he said, "All right, I will go with you; there are two or three others in it besides me"—when we got to the station he told the inspector he was at home that night at 9 o'clock—I knew Hibbert before, and am quite sure he is the man—I saw him outside the house at 2 o'clock in the morning.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Are you quite sure he did not say, "There are two or three in it. but not me?" A. I am sure he said what I state—he did not say I had got the wrong man, nor "There are two or three in it, I dare say"—he said, "Two or three others beside me"—I am quite sure he used those words—I did not take them down at the time—he went with me very quietly—"All right, I will go with you," is a common expression when a man gives himself up to the police without resistance—he said at the station he was at home at 9 o'clock—he did not add that he was there the whole night, and he could prove it—I did not hear him.
Hudson. Q. You say you saw me in company with Hibbert and a woman? A. Yes, and Collins—that was after I saw you the first time, and after you came down from the Royal Oak—you all went away together when I spoke to you—I did not see you and Collins go together; it was all four—you went in the direction of Sloane street—I did not see you afterwards.
GEORGE WRIGHT . I am a carman of 9, Cross-street, Chelsea—between 12 and 1, on Wednesday night, 15th October, I was in the Royal Oak, standing at the bar—Collins and another man came in, and called for a pint of beer—Hudson came in, in about five minutes, and Collins asked him to drink—he said, "Tommy, drink," and he did—Hudson came to me and said, "Do you know anything of Basham?"—Tommy Duck said that; Hudson is called so—Basham is a man who uses the house—I said, "No, I have not seen him"—he said, "I want to see him, there is something on outside, Stockley has left his fanlight open; I only want a lift up to get inside; there is a box of cigars, and I can stop there until between 5 or 6 o'clock, and open the door and get out"—I knew that Stockley kept the next corner public-house—I told him to take his cards to another shop—that meant to take his talk somewhere else—I left the house about 2 o'clock—I will not be sure whether Hibbert was there when I left, or not.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Where are you, carman? A. I was carman for my father—I was carman to another party named Culham, in Chelsea—I have never been in trouble—I have never been convicted or in prison.
COURT. Q. When did you cease to be a carman? A. I gave up the business eighteen months—since that I have been jobbing about for Mr. Webster and Mr. Bancroft.
Hudson. Q. When I came in and asked where Basham was, did you not say he was not long gone out? A. I said, "I have not seen him"—you said Stockley's fanlight was open—I did not say to you, "If you like to come down I will give you a leg up;" it is false—you did not say, "No, George, I will not do it; I am off home directly"—every word of it is false.
COURT. Q. Was Collins present when Hudson said this, to you? A. He did not hear it.
WILLIAM BIRCH (Policeman, B 25). On Saturday, 18th October, a little before 12 o'clock, I saw Hudson in Raphael-street—he called out to me, "I understand you want me"—I said, "Yes," and took him in custody—I told him it was for breaking into the Pakenham, and stealing some cigars and spirits—he wanted to know who told me he did it—I told him I should not tell him—I took him to Mr. Stockley's, and asked him to fetch down
Collins, who was upstairs—he was brought down—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with Tommy Duck, which was the only name I knew Hudson by, in stealing some cigars and spirits—he wanted to know how I knew he did it—I told him that that was my business, and I should not have any conversation with him—he said, "I suppose Tommy Duck has blowed it, then"—I afterwards ascertained that Tommy Duck was the prisoner Hudson—Hudson was by me then, and he replied, "Never mind, it will take them all their b—y time to find it out now"—I took them to the station—I produce part of a cigar, which I received from the inspector—I was looking out for Hibbert about a week—I did not know where he lived.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. Are you quite sure you did not know where Hibbert lived? A. Quite positive—I asked several people.
Hudson. Q. Where was I when you say I said, "It will take them all their b—y time to find it out?" A. In the Pakenham, in front of the bar.
GEORGE TYLER . I am a farrier, and live in Garden-row, Knightsbridge—I was in Hyde-park with Hemmings on the morning of the robbery—I saw Hudson, and Hibbert with him; there was no one with them—it was about 12 o'clock—they were going across the park—Hudson was smoking a cigar.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. How far were you off when you saw them? A. About twenty or thirty yards.
Hudson. Q. You saw me throw away the piece of cigar that is produced? A. I cannot say whether it is the same—you threw away a piece—I picked it up, and gave it to Mr. Stockley.
AUGUSTINE HEMMINGS . I keep tho Royal-Oak in Raphael-street—Hibbert, up to the time of the robbery, used the house—he was not there very often—he was there the previous night, quite tipsy, and I would not let him have anything—that was on the 14th—the other prisoners were not there at that time—I saw the other prisoners there on the morning of the 16th—it would be about half-past 12; that is the Thursday morning—I had not closed—Collins and Hudson came in a little before Hibbert; it might be a few minutes—when Hibbert came in he spoke to me—they were all three on the same form, as though they knew each other; I could see that from their manner—Collins and Hudson went out first, and Hibbert followed out soon after—it was about half-past 1, I should say, when they went out—on the following day I was in the park with Tyler, and saw Hibbert and Hudson.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER. Q. When was your attention first called to this, and by whom? A. No one in particular—the policeman came to me—I think that was on the Saturday—I will not swear it was not Monday—I do not think it was Friday—I cannot tell which it was—it was not Friday morning at half-past 12, instead of Thursday at half-past 12, that I saw Hibbert come in to my house—I am quite sure I have not made a mistake; it was not Friday—I can tell you what day of the month last Monday was by reckoning back—there were several customers in my house when I shut it up on the Wednesday before this Thursday morning—I can tell you three or four—Tyler was one—there were several others.
Hudson. Q. You say we were all in your house the same morning? A. Yes—I swear that—Hibbert came in, and you were sitting all on the same form in conversation.
Hudson. Q. Have I not been engaged with you, on several occasions, as
potman? A. Yes, and also in shutting up the house at night—I never had any occasion to find fault with you, or found you guilty of any dishonest act.
Hudson's Defence. I know no more about the robbery than a child unborn. I certainly was out this night, or the morning this robbery was committed, and I stayed at the Oak until half-past 2, when I left the house, and went down in the direction of the Pakenham; from there I made my debut in this coffee-house, as this policeman says; I fell asleep, and he came in and woke me up. I went out, but I did not go home. I went to the Two Brewers' public-house; I went straight there from the coffee-shop, and I remained there for an hour or an hour and a half, and then went home to my lodging, and got home at 8 or 9 o'clock in the morning. I never was in that man's shop that night later than 11 o'clock; staying in a public-house at night is not my occupation. I was in the shop with one or two working men, who bid me good night.
Collins' Defence. I was out at work late that night—I am never done until half-past 1, and I went home; I never was in the shop with Hibbert; I came out with a man named Windle; I never was in a public-house in my life after 12 o'clock.
MR. COOPER for the prisoner Hibbert, called the following witnesses.
JOSEPH HIBBERT . I am the father of Hibbert—he was charged with this offence on a Sunday—I recollect the night when the robbery was said to be effected—it was Wednesday, 15th October—I gave him the key to let himself in—he went in and went to bed—I followed him—that was between 9 and 10 o'clock—he was then in bed, and I went to bed myself—he was there the whole night—he breakfasted with me next morning, and went out at near 8 o'clock—a person named Mackben lives in the back parlour—she did not breakfast with us—we had to pass her door—my son sleeps in the same room with me and his mother—she slept with me that night—I left the candle bnrning for her—she was out, but she was in bed by the clock striking 10—my son and me were both in bed when she came home.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. What time did your son come in? A. I should think it was about twenty minutes past 9—I was not above ten minutes after him—he had got into bed—he had gone in before—I gave him the key to let himself in—I was outside—we did not sleep in the same bed—my son slept by himself, and my wife and me slept together—no one else sleeps in that room—the prisoner got up between 7 and 8, and had his breakfast with me—he was not out from the time he went to bed until between 7 and 8 next morning—we sleep on the first floor—there is only one flight of stairs-sometimes he goes to bed earlier, and sometimes later than between 9 and 10 o'clock, according to his work—I never knew him out all night in my life—I cannot tell what time he went to bed on Tuesday night; I did not take particular notice—I did take notice about the Wednesday night, after he was taken into custody—he was taken about the 26th—he went out in the morning at about half-past 11—I am not speaking of the Wednesday before he was taken, when I say he was in bed at 10—I am speaking of the Wednesday when they say he was out—I cannot tell how long that is before he was taken—I knew that night when he went to bed—I think it was the Wednesday before he was taken—I had nothing particular to call my attention to the day, only I think it was the Sunday after—he was not drunk on the night before that Wednesday—I am quite certain of that—I cannot say what time he was out—he generally gets home about 9.
MR. COOPER. Q. What does he work at? A. At labouring work—I do not recollect the day of the month the Sunday was on which he was taken
—I know he went out about a quarter before 12—I said, "Do not stop, dinner will be ready soon"—I should think the charge was made against him about the 17th or 18th—I have been a pensioner from the army twenty-six years—I was in the First Life Guards.
COURT. Q. Do you remember anything about the night following the Wednesday you have been speaking of? A. No; I cannot say what time he came to bed—sometimes he comes to bed without my knowing it—I mostly sleep sound—I go to bed between 8 and 9—I am seventy years old—I was born in 1792, and enlisted in the Life Guards in 1812—I was at Waterloo—I was a soldier three years before that.
MARTHA HIBBERT . I am the wife of the last witness—I recollect when this robbery took place—it was on 15th October, a Wednesday night—my son was at home and in bed before 10 o'clock—when I went to bed no one was in the room but my husband and him—I am certain it was the 15th, because I went out to tea that evening—that fixes it in my recollection—my son lay at home all night until past 8 the next morning to breakfast—we all breakfasted together that morning.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Was he out the night before? A. He was out at the Exhibition, with a nephew of mine, who came from Lancashire—he came home late in the afternoon, about 6 o'clock—he was at home early in the evening as well—I am speaking of the Tuesday—he did not remain at home: he went out with my nephew—I cannot exactly say what time he came home then—it might have been between 10 and 11.
COURT. Q. Was he sober that night? A. Quite—he was quite sober on the Tuesday night.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Do you remembers what time he came home on the Thursday? A. No; I cannot say—it is no use for me to say exactly—he was at home every night that week, and on the Sunday he laid in bed until about 12—he then got up and went out—that was the time he was taken, and I did not hear a word of anything that occurred—that was not the next Sunday to the Wednesday I am speaking of—I think about ten days had elapsed.
COURT. Q. You say he was at home every night that week; was that the week of the Wednesday, or of the Sunday when he got up at 12 o'clock? A. The Sunday of the week following—he was at home a fortnight, and never was out—I cannot say what time he came home every night—he never was out particularly late—they never shut up the stable yard—oats are going in and out all night—I think it was the Sunday week after the Wednesday that he was taken—I recollect well the evening I went out to tea was the Wednesday immediately preceding the Sunday when he was taken—I do not believe it was the Sunday week—I do not think it was the following Sunday—I recollect it from going out to tea.
BARNETTA MACKBEN . I am married, and lodge in the house of the last witness—I recollect the prisoner Hibbert being taken—I remember the robbery was said to be on Wednesday, the 15th of October—that day is fixed in nay mind, as I was out at day-work, and as I came in I followed Joseph Hibbert, and saw him go up to his room—it was a little after 9—I believe he was at home all night—he does not generally go out after he once comes in—he keeps very good hours usually, about 10 of half-past 10, but not later—I have lodged there for twelve months, but I have known him for two years—I lived in the house next door before I lived there—I saw him the following morning in the forenoon—I cannot help seeing him, as he goes in and out he passes my door, which is at the foot of the stairs—I have only one room, in which I sleep and take my meals.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. I suppose your door is closed at night? A. Yes; but that evening I followed him in—I cannot tell whether he came down again or not—I do not believe he went out; he does not generally—I saw him go upstairs, and did not see him until the next day—that is not the only day I have been out at work, but I remember it because there was a party at the gentleman's house where I had been—there is nobody here from that house—I had missed him when he was taken, and could not imagine what had become of him, until his mother came and told me of her trouble—the Wednesday I speak of was about a fortnight or ten days before that—I think I saw him come in from work about 10 on the Tuesday—he was perfectly sober, there could be no mistake about that—I do not know what time he came home on the Thursday—there is no key to the door—they always have to knock—I am quite sure of that, or else some times the door stands a little open—my attention was called to this Wednesday night two or three days after I had missed him—his mother did not ask me to go to the police-court—she asked me if I had heard of this trouble about Joseph—I said I imagined he had gone to work somewhere—then we began talking over the Wednesday, and what took place.
MR. COOPER. Q. Then your mind being directed to the Wednesday, were you quite positive you saw him on that evening? A. yes; I am quite clear that it was that Wednesday.
COURT. Q. Was it late wheu he came home on the Thursday? A. No; I am sure it was not late, but I cannot exactly remember the hour—he was not out so late as 12 o'clock—I feel quite sure that on the Tuesday he was earlier than 10—he was not out so late as 12 that week—he might have been a little later than 10—on the Thursday he was in before I went to bed—we live at 2, Fulham Bridge-yard—it is at Knightsbridge, at the back of the "Pakenham"—it is a few minutes from the Pakenham—on the Thursday morning he went out about 10 or 11 o'clock, I think.
COURT to MARTHA HIBBERT. Q. You knew of his being taken into custody on the Sunday; did you go before the Magistrate? A. I went there, but they never required me—I did not go into the Court—I was sent to the waiting-room, and I waited there until I was called, but they never called me—I saw my son's solicitor, and he said I was to wait there—my husband did not go with me.
HUDSON.— GUILTY .
COLLINS.— GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
HIBBERT.— NOT GUILTY .
Hudson was further charged with a previous conviction of felony, in July, 1849; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD BAKEWELL . I am a bricklayer, and work for Mr. Rummens, of Little Britain—on the morning of 31st October, I was at work outside the house removing some scaffolding—I looked across the road, and saw the prisoner and another come out of Mr. Dullens' and shut the door—I am quite sure the prisoner is one of the men—I saw him distinctly—he stood there seven or eight minutes, as near as I can reckon—after he left, Hugo Dullens came—I saw him enter and afterwards speak to a policeman, who went into the house—I then saw the prisoner come and try the door—that was
about 7 o'clock—the policeman opened the door—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man—the officer went up and spoke to him—I do not know what was said—I was not close enough—the prisoner ran away—I pursued him until we got to Falcon-square, when the officer apprehended him—I saw he had something in his hand, and heard something go.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. Is this a narrow street? A. About eighteen feet wide, outside width—I was at work, but at the outside, in removing scaffold poles and hoarding—there were only two other men and a labourer at work—one is here—the prisoner and another man came out, pulled the door, and stood there—they then walked away—I did not observe that they had anything with them—in about an hour the prisoner came back—I did not see him do anything—he wished to open the door, and put the key in—the officer opened the door—when I noticed him, he was at the door with the key—he stood sideways to me—I was on the opposite side of the street—I was confident he had a key in his hand—he put it in the lock—the policeman opened the door almost directly—he said, "Who is that?"—I said, "That man there"—he did not leave the key in the door—he took it away with him.
CHARLES MERCER (City-policeman, S 175). On the 31st October, at ten minutes past 7 o'clock, I was on duty in Noble-street, Falcon-square—a butcher spoke to me, and I found this key (produced) down an area—I afterwards tried it to the door of the prosecutor's warehouse, and it would undo it—it is a kind of skeleton key—I was shown the spot by the butcher before I found the key.
Cross-examined. Q. Where was the key found? A. In Noble-street, but the house is numbered 21 and 22, Falcon-square—it was right over the area, where the prisoner was taken.
HUGO DULLENS . I am an umbrella manufacturer, at 3, Little Britain—no one slept on the premises—on the 30th October, I locked up the ware-house, and locked the front door twice—it has first a spring and then a lock—the back door leads into a yard—there is no entrance from the street there—I took the key home with me—the next morning I came at about half-past 6—I opened the door as usual, and found no difficulty—I found a lot of bales and parcels lying on the counter near the door, the contents of which had been partly in the back warehouse, and partly in a different part of the warehouse—I estimate the value of those goods at from 150l. to 200l.—they consisted of alpaca and umbrellas—I called a policeman.
ROBERT KEMP (City-policeman, 238). About 7 o'clock this morning, I was on duty in Little Britain, when I was called by the prosecutor I went into the warehouse—the door was then closed—I had not been there above two minutes when I heard a noise, as of some one putting a key in, and trying to unlock the door—I opened the door, and inquired of Bakewell who was there—he pointed out the prisoner as the man—as soon as he saw me, he ran away—I pursued him to the corner of Falcon-square, where he slipped, and I took him at a few minutes after 7.
CHARLES MERCER (re-examined). I received the information about 7, and the key was found about 9—there was nobody there before 9 to go down into the cellar—I did not see the key before I got it—the warehouse is in the parish of St. Botolph, Aldersgate.
(The details of this case were unfit for publication.)
MESSRS. SLEIGH and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. METCALFE
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT. Friday, November 28th, 1862.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
MR. BEST conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK JAMES RUSH . I am a house-decorator, living at 34, Royal-street, Lambeth. On 17th November, about 5 minutes past 8 in the morning, I was coming up Snow-hill, towards the Old Bailey—Cooper was being executed that morning; he was hanging at the time—I turned into the Old Bailey—there was a crowd—previous to my getting to the Old Bailey the two prisoners followed me up Snow-hill, and kept very close to me—I did not like their appearance—when I got opposite the gallows, I thought I would turn back and go to Snow-hill again, where they hustled me, got my hands up right over my head, and got my watch from my pocket, breaking the guard from the key—as soon as I got my hands free, I seized them both by the collar—I told them they had my watch—I saw Windsor take it and pass it to Hurley—I saw him take it from my pocket; and I saw the guard in his hand, passing down from my waistcoat pocket, before I seized him—I did not see what became of it—I think it was passed, but I can't say where it went—it had been safe in my pocket a second before I saw the prisoners.
Hurley. On his last evidence he said he did not see the watch go.
(The witness's deposition being read, agreed with his evidence.)
Windsor. Q. If you saw my hands at your waistcoat pocket, why not lay hold of me before I could pass the watch? A. I took hold of both of you as soon as I could get my hands down—I saw the guard in your hand, and the watch was attached to the guard.
COURT. Q. No violence was used to you; you were not hurt? A. No; no further than my hands being forced over my head; they did not beat, or kick, or wound me.
JOHN NORTON . I am a plumber, at 5, Queen-square, Hoxton. I was at the Old Bailey about 8 o'clock, on the morning of 17th November, and saw the prisoners standing by the side of me—I looked at Hurley—he said, "What are you looking at?"—I said, "I suppose you may be looked at?"—he said, "If you look at me again I will hit you in the b—eye"—they moved away then—just as they moved, the prosecutor was coming past—they followed him, and got him with his arms forced up; and I saw Windsor put his hand to his waistcoat pocket, and take it away very quickly; whether he passed anything or not, I cannot say, but he passed his hands towards Hurley—I tried to catch hold of him, but there were so many round I could not—the prosecutor detained them till the constable came.
Windsor's Defence. All that I can say is, that I am innocent of the case.
Hurley's Defence. The witness knows nothing more about it than the biggest stranger here.
Hurley was further charged with having been before convicted of felony at the Marylebone Police-court on 22d April, 1862, of larceny from the person, when he was sentenced to Six Months' imprisonment: to this part of the charge he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
WINDSOR— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
JOHN WILSON . I am an auctioneer, at Whitby, in Yorkshire. On 14th November, I was at Rose's public-house, at Wapping—I suppose it was rather early when I left, nearly 2 o'clock—I was not aware it was so late, there were a few friends there—after I had proceeded a short distance two men came up, one at each side, and wanted to know where I was going—I said I was going home; it was rather late—they wanted me to treat them—I refused; I said I did not make a practice of treating people—I walked on a little, and before I knew anything further, the prisoner seized me by the collar from behind, and the other by the throat—he put his arm in the front of my throat, and I fell to the ground from the pressure on my throat—I felt the effects of it at the back of my neck the day after—I felt stunned; and the first I remember afterwards was that this man had got his hand into my trouser's pocket—the prisoner was rifling my pockets—it was quite light where they attacked me, but where they pulled me down it was not such a good light—the prisoner was never out of my sight—I had in an inside pocket a half sovereign, some silver, and copper—I cannot say whether anything was missing or not; I don't think he got anything—after I recovered myself I tried to get away from them, and the prisoner struck me across the cheek and nose, and in the eye, and I fell again—I have the marks on my face now; my nose was knocked all on one side—I made an alarm when I had the chance, but the prisoner put his hand across my mouth, and rather stopped me; I shouted, "Murder!" and "Police!"—I thought I was going to be killed—the other man made away, and got off—I got hold of the prisoner by the coat, and said, "Stop till the policeman comes"—he got away, right facing the police, and they brought him back in a second or two—he left me lying in the road—I did not feel the effects before the Magistrate so much as I do now.
Prisoner. I was in the public-house, waiting for the Aberdeen boat coming up, and I saw this man drinking there, along with some men and women. I went to the pier head, and coming back I met this man talking to another. He asked me, did I know a place where he could get a glass; I said I did not. He said, "Then, what is the use of you?" making a punch at me, and hitting me right in the face. To defend myself I hit him in the face, and that was all I did; there was no one with me, only myself. He sang out for the police, and the policeman and the watchman came over the bridge, and took me to the station.
Witness. I had not had much to drink—I had been with my friends—I was as sober as any gentleman in this court; that I swear; perfectly sober—I did not ask the prisoner where I could get a glass; they wanted me to treat them, and I would not—I did not say to him, "What is the use of you?" nothing of the sort—I did not strike him—I did not lose anything
that I could swear to—I had some loose silver in my pocket, and I fancied there was rather less, but I could not swear—I had no watch.
HENRY LOCK, K . 169. At the time this took place I was a police-constable, K, 84. On Friday morning, 14th November, about 2 o'clock, I was on my beat at Wapping—I heard the cries of "Police" and "Murder"—I went towards Wapping Old Stairs, where the cries proceeded from, and saw the prosecutor lying on the ground—I stopped, and the cries of murder and police stopped for a moment—the prosecutor then began to cry out again—he was then on the ground, and the prisoner was leaving him—the prisoner then said, "If you don't hold your b—noise, I will come back and knock you b—brains out"—I crossed the road and said to the prisoner, "What is the matter?"—he said, "Nothing"—I said, "I believe there is; you had better come back along with me"—he said, "No, I am b—d if I do"—I said he should—after a good deal of resistance I got him to come back with me, and I took him into custody—he was rather riotous in going to the station, and tried to throw me down.
Prisoner. Q. How could I try to knock you down, and two of you had hold me? A. I took you to the station myself, and had a great bother to get you there—you swore you would not come—you were quite sober; and the prosecutor was quite sober.
JURY. Q. Did you notice whether the prosecutor was injured? A. yes; he was partially insensible when I got up to him, and he was complaining of the injuries he had received—the skin was off his nose, or it was cut; I won't be sure which; and he had a large bruise on the side of his head—there were no marks of violence on the prisoner; not the slightest.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I have a mark on my nose, where it was bleeding? A. No—you were taken to Newgate the same day.
Prisoner's Defence. When I came here the Governor asked me what the scar was on my nose, and I said it was where I got a punch. I wish the Governor to be asked about it.
EDMUND JAMES JONAS (Governor of Newgate). I did not ask the prisoner what the scar was on the side of his nose—if there had been one there I should not have asked him—I don't remember that he had one—if I had noticed it I should have put it down in my book—he did not say it was a cut that he had—he had no scar that I noticed—I will not say that he might not have had a pimple, but no scar—there might have been a trifling scratch, but I don't remember it.
GUILTY .*— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
79. EDWARD MARKS (29), JOHN LANE (18), JAMES BUTLER (18), and JOHN FORD (18), were indicted for that they, being armed with a certain offensive weapon, feloniously did assault Michael Murray, and steal 1 watch, a purse, and 18s. in money, his property, and feloniously wound and use other personal violence to him.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL MURRAY . I am a painter, and live at Chelsea—on 3d November there was a ball at the Teetotal-hall, 56, Lower George-street, Chelsea—there were posters like this (produced) put up, to show where it was to be—I was employed, along with another man, to stand at the entrance, to take the money and tickets—the other one took the tickets, and I took the money—whilst I was standing there people passing could see me quite plainly—it was about 1 o'clock when I left—I had to go across Sloane-square to reach my home—as I was going past the "Star and Garter" I thought I heard footsteps
behind me—I turned round, and saw a shadow cast, but I saw nobody—I went straight on into Symonds-street, which leads into Sloane-square—when I reached No. 2, Symonds-street I heard some very quick steps come—I was turning round to see whether they were coming on to me or no, and before I got round, Marks came—he had a white jacket, or a white something on him at the time—he worked himself right behind me, and put his arms round me, under my chin—I was going to say "hallo," but I could not say "hallo"—I said "ho"—that was all I could say, and he pulled me back as hard as he could pull—I was trying to stoop down, but he pulled me back, so that I could not stoop—with that three more came up, and began to ran-sack my pockets—they took what they thought proper—my watch was in my waistcoat pocket, and my purse in my left-hand trousers pocket, with 18s. in it—I did not carry home the night's receipts with me, I left that at the hall—the value of my watch was 2l.—after they had taken the things Marks let go of me, and then struck me with some heavy thing that he had in his hand—it was something that came cold, and very hard—he struck me in the mouth, and the blow sent my teeth all back—I fell down, and was bleeding very much at the mouth—I am quite sure Marks is the man that did it—I had never known him before, but he stood a second to see whether I would get up—I could see his countenance, and he had on a white jacket or something of that sort—I am quite sure he is the man—I could not swear to the faces of the other three, but their size and dress resembles them very much—I went to the station-house on the 6th, I think, on the Thursday, and was shown several men sitting along a form—I picked out Marks and Lane, and there was another I picked out, but I could not say that he was the man at all—I believe Lane was one of the men—I only believe it.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON (for Lane). Q. You say you picked out Lane at the station? A. Yes—there might have been a dozen men or more shown to me, for what I know—I cannot say positively, because I was taken out of my bed at 11 o'clock at night—I could not swear that they were policemen; they were in plain clothes—I cannot swear that Lane is the man—I only form an opinion from his size and dress.
Marks. Q. Do you, or not, state that you are positive it was Lane that was with me at the time they came before you, and ransacked your pockets? A. I do not say positively—I have said that I can't swear positively to any of these three—I swear positively that you are the person that came behind me, and choked me—I was not told so by other persons—my wife's daughter's husband did not come to me, and tell me this, not that night he did not—after I had picked you out I was told it was you, not previously.
Marks. It is a person, a relation of his, who is implicated in the case; when I say implicated, he is wholly and solely concerned; the innocent is now suffering for the guilty; and the prosecutor openly said in Court that he would not prosecute that man. Lane is suffering for the party who is guilty, his name is Hurley; were you not told by the police that they were in search of that party? Witness. Yes—his name is Hurley—he is a brother of my wife's daughter's husband that he is speaking about—I heard afterwards that he was implicated in the case—my wife did not then say to me, "Now I know Lane is innocent of this"—she did not tell me that Lane was innocent, and that a hair of his head should not be hurt.
Marks. If this Hurley was not a party concerned, why should he abscond from his home; but he would not have him taken because he is his relation, so they make Lane answer for him. I know it is useless to ask anything about my own case; I know I can't speak anything in my own behalf,
because my word would not be taken, as I have not long been out of trouble, but I don't wish the innocent to suffer for the guilty; I have not the least to ask about my own case.
Butler. He says he cannot swear to me, except by my size; there is many a one in the street my size.
Ford. I was not in Mark's company that night above a quarter of an hour; I met him about half-past 12, and we had a drop of coffee together, we came out of the coffee-shop together, and I left him, and we were up in Westminster about 2 o'clock, and the policeman met us, and searched us, and found nothing on us, and said, "For God's sake, go back to Chelsea; if I catch you here again I will lock you up."
CHARLES COX (Policeman, B 210). On the night of 3d November, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I was on duty in George-street, Chelsea, that is leading from the river into Sloane-square—there was a ball that night at the Teetotal-hall in that street—I saw the prisoners, Marks, Ford, and Butler, together, near that hall, about twenty minutes to 1 o'clock—that was the first time I had seen them—there was a fourth man with them, but I could not swear to him—I knew Ford and Butler before—I am confident Marks was one of them—I carry a lantern, and I turned my lantern on to them—they were standing on the opposite side of the street to the hall—from where they stood they could see the prosecutor plainly—they might if they liked have seen that he was one of the persons taking the money—as soon as I got up to them I turned my light on them, and one of them, I could not swear which, said, "Come on," and he turned round, and walked on, and Marks went on with him, and the other two followed close afterwards—they went up into Sloane-square, and through Sloane-square into King's-road, and there I left them.
Cross-examined by MR. BIBTON. Q. You speak to Marks, Butler, and Ford? A. Yes—I cannot swear to the other—I cannot swear that the other was not Lane—he resembles him in size—he had a dark coat and cap on at the time—I have not said it was another man, act in custody—I said I could not swear to Lane—there were only two in custody the first time—I do not know Hurley—the police have been looking after him, but have not been able to catch him.
RICHARD BURTON . I live at 13, College-place, Chelsea, and am a cab driver—on the night of 3d November, about half-past 12, after putting up my cab, I went to have a cup of coffee in a coffee-shop in King's-road—I frequent the cab rank in Sloane-square—that is about two hundred and fifty yards from the coffee-house—I put up my cab in White Lion-street—that is about four hundred yards from the coffee-house—when I entered the coffee-house, I saw four young men in the next box to me, before I sat down—it was these two young men and the further one (Marks, Butler, and Ford)—the other young man is not here that I see—they went out before me, and then they came back and lit their pipes; they returned directly; they had hardly got outside the door—it was the same four—they had to pass my box to light their pipes—I could see them well—I am quite sure that these are the three men.
COURT. Q. You say you put up your cab at half-past 12? A. yes, as near as I can judge—I did not see the time—I can tell the time I got to the coffee-shop—there was a clock in there.
MR. COOPER. Q. After lighting their pipes did they go out again? A. Yes—I went out about five minutes afterwards—while I was there I did not see any man come in, and look, and go out again.
Butler. Q. Did not I and Ford go out before Marks? A. You all went
out together—you two led the way, and the other two followed, and then you came back to light your pipes.
RICHARD HARWOOD . I live at 23, King's-road, Chelsea, and am a coffee-house keeper—on the morning of 4th November I saw Marks, Ford, and Butler come into my coffee-house—I am sure they are the men—I should think it was about a quarter-past 12; I cannot exactly say for a minute or two—the cabman (Burton) came in afterwards—they remained there, I should think, about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—they then left—they came back, and lit their pipes, and then left—I should think it was about twenty minutes to 1 when they left, as near as I can say—on the same side of the way as my house there is a wall, which bounds the Duke of York's school—the King's-road is a wide road—the old wall is now taken down, and it is made wider—my coffee-house is about two hundred yards from Sloane-square, and about three hundred yards from Symonds-street.
Ford. Q. How long were we when we went out before we returned and lit our pipes? A. I should think not half a minute.
MR. COOPER. Q. After these men had left did anybody else come in? A. Yes, Lane—that was about ten minutes after they had left—he came in, and looked round—he might have remained five minutes, I can't say—he then left—I should say it was nearly I when he left.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. When you saw the three men in the first instance was there another with them? A. There were four—the other man is not here—that fourth man was not Lane—I don't know Hurley—my coffee-house is frequented by the working classes, cabmen, and men of that sort, who come in late—there was not a good many there that night—there was no one else in the shop but the cabman and the men that were there—others came in during the night, before and after those.
MR. COOPER. Q. Had you known Lane before? A. Yes—I have seen him before—I am sure it was Lane that came in on that night.
CAROLINE FOSTER . I am married, and live at 9, Wellington-street, Chelsea—I was at the Teetotal ball on 3d November; I left about a quarter to 1, as near as I could judge—I came up Lower Sloane-street, across Sloane-square, and along the King's-road—on going along King's-road I was in advance of my friends till I came to the new wall of the Duke of York's military school—there was a gang of five men there, three behind, and two in front—one, a short one, put himself in a half stooping position, while Marks threw himself across the pavement at my feet—I said, "You villain, what did you do that for? I suppose you intended to throw me down?"—I am positive Marks is one of the men, although he was not dressed as he was when taken—he had a short-waisted white jacket on, open up the front—the other man who was with Marks was a very little fellow—I don't think he is here—Butler and Ford were two of the men, and Lane resembles the other in height and stature—he had a short round hat on—Marks had not the cap on when he was taken that he had when he throw himself at my feet—this (produced) is like the cap that the third man had on—I can't swear to Lane, but the other man had on such a hat as this—they passed me after this—my friends had come up by that time—Marks had on a flat sort of military cap—this (produced) is the cap.
EDMUND COSTELLO (Policeman, B 188). On 4th November, about 1 o'clock, I was on duty in King's-road, near South-street—I was standing nearly opposite the wall, near the corner of South-street—while standing there, about fifteen yards in front of me I saw Lane in company with another man in a white jacket, resembling Marks—they were coming in a direction from the
coffee-shop to South-street—I am quite positive it was Lane—I did not know him before—the other had on a white jacket with buttons—it looked like an engineer's jacket; it was open in front, and he had on a dark cap—that man crossed the road to the side of the coffee-shop, and Lane passed me, nearly in the gas lamp—I looked at him—he found that I noticed him, and he stopped, and turned round, and we stood face to face—when he got a little the other side of South-street, he crossed the road on to the same side as the coffee-house, and joined the man in the white jacket—they stood talking together underneath the wall of the Duke of York's school—I then proceeded down towards Sloane-square—in going towards Sloane-square I saw two more men on the opposite side, the same side as the coffee-house—I looked across at them, but between the lamps I could not swear positively to them—I then went down as far as the square, and returned back again, and I saw Lane in company with the man in the white jacket, and the other two on the same side, all four together—they were at that time talking underneath the wall of the Duke of York's school—after I had passed them on the opposite side they all four returned to Sloane-square—suspecting something wrong, I followed them towards the square—before I arrived there all the four men, Lane included, crossed the road in the direction of the New-road and Symond's-street—I went round in the direction that they went, and lost sight of the whole four—I went into Symond's-street, and also into the New-road, but lost sight of them—when I first saw Lane he was almost opposite the coffee-house, when I passed him—about three quarters of an hour after this, it might be a quarter to 2, or near 2, I saw the prosecutor, with the police-sergeant, come into the King's-road—he was bleeding profusely from the mouth—he opened his mouth, and I could see that all his teeth were knocked back, and his mouth was full of blood.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Had you ever seen Lane before that night? A. No—at the station he was brought out of the cell, and shown to me—Marks was brought out first, but I could not swear positively to him, as he had got on another dress, but Lane I could swear positively to—I did not pick him out from anybody else—he was brought out to me, and I said he was the man—I was quite positive he was the man—I do not know Hurley—I have never seen him to my knowledge—I have heard that Hurley has been wanted by the police—I first saw Lane on this night, in South-street, nearly opposite the coffee-house—I was about fifteen yards from him when I first saw him in company with the man in the white jacket—I am not able to identify the man in the white jacket—I won't swear positively to him—Lane afterwards passed me underneath the gas-lamp—I was close to him then—we were face to face—it was about three-quarters of an hour after I lost sight of the four men that I saw the prosecutor—I will not be quite positive—it might have been less.
BENJAMIN BRETT (Police-sergeant, B. 29). On 4th November, from 20 minutes to half-past 1, I was at the station, in Cottage-row, when the prosecutor came there—it was half-past 1 when I left the station in company with him—he was two minutes in the station—he was bleeding furiously from the mouth, and he had his handkerchief to his mouth—I went to the spot he pointed out—that is nearly half a mile from the station—I saw an immense large pool of blood, and I picked up the case of a silver watch (produced)—I afterwards went to Wotton-street police-station with Costello—that was after he had been to Cottage-row, and come back again.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Do you know a man named Hurley? A. Yes—I have been looking after him.
COURT. Q. Is he a man who could be mistaken for Lane? A. No; he might be mistaken for Butler—he is a little old-fashioned fellow—he is not so tall as Lane—he is shorter than either of the two, to the best of my judgment—if Lane stood upright, you would find he was taller than he looks now—I could not say that Hurley could not be mistaken for Lane, because a great many of us are mistaken—I have mistaken people myself.
JOSEPH CASE (Policeman, B 142). On the morning of 4th November, I was in plain clothes, at the corner of Westminster Bridge-road, at 2 o'clock, and I saw three men—one passed me—I stopped to speak to Butler and Ford—I believed the other was Marks—he was dressed in a dark coat—I believed it was Marks at that time, though I don't believe it now—they came in a direction from Sloane-square—I asked them what they were doing in Chelsea at that time in the morning—they said they were going to a house in Peter-street—I saw Butler and Lane that same morning in Broad Sanctuary, about 3 o'olock, and told them if I saw them there again I would lock them up for loitering.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. None of the men you saw had a white jacket on? A. No.
Marks. Q. You are not positive of me? A. No.
Butler. Q. Did not you stop us in Westminster Bridge-road? A. yes—I said, "Hallo"—I rubbed you down—there was a knife in your pocket—you took it out and showed it to me—I did not tell you to go anywhere—I did not afterwards meet you again, and say, "For God's sake, go back"—I said I would lock you up for loitering—there was an hour between then and when I first saw you.
Ford. Q. Did the other policeman search me? A. I searched you both—I found nothing on you.
WILLIAM BIRCH (Policeman, B 25). On the Thursday night after the robbery, the 6th, I went to the General Elliott, and saw Marks and Lane drinking together, and two others with them—shortly after, Inspector Butler came in—I said, "This is Marks;" and he took Marks in custody, and told him it was for garotting a person named Murray, in Symond's-street—he took out the handcuffs—Marks said, "All right; I will go with you"—I took Lane for being concerned with the others—he said, "All right; I will go with you"—on the previous night, the 5th, I was coming down Sloane-street, about half-past 10 o'clock, and saw Marks, Lane, Butler, and Ford, all together—I met them—I am sure they are the men; I knew them well ever since they were that high (describing)—I stopped Marks—I said, "Hallo"—he stopped—I said, "I beg your pardon; I thought your name was Moore"—he said, "I'll stab you to the b—heart, if you don't be off"—I was in plain clothes—I said, "It is a mistake of mine; I beg your pardon"—he threatened several times to stab me—Lane came up to him, and said, "Come on; I know him; all right; he is a sergeant"—Marks said, "I don't care a b—who he is; if you are not off this instant, I will stab you to the b—heart"—Lane was some time in persuading him to go away—at last he went away—he caught hold of his arm to pull him away—he said, "Dead men tell no tales, mind."
Marks. Q. Did you ever speak to me in your life before? A. No—I don't know why you should make use of such expressions to me—the remark about dead men telling no tales did not occur in the General Elliott—the landlord did not say that it was very unwholesome to go to bed
where a corpse was in the house—I did not ask who lay dead in the house, nor did he tell me it was his sister—I did not say I should not be afraid of the dead, and should be more afraid of the living, alluding to you; nor did you say, "Yes, because dead people don't tell no lies, but live people don't confine themselves to truth"—it is all false; I never heard anything of the kind.
Marks. I deny making use of the words he says; Lane was not in my company; it was Hurley, who wore the very same hat that is produced, or a similar one.
COURT. Q. Do you know Hurley? A. I do, perfectly well, and I have known Lane these eight years—I am positive it was Lane that was with Marks, and not Hurley, because Lane stood persuading Marks two or three minutes—I pursued them afterwards, when I got assistance, to take them into custody, but I could not overtake them.
Butler. Q. Did not you come into Patfield's lodging-house on the Friday night that I and Ford were taken out of bed? A. I visited that house nearly every night to look for you—I did not see Hurley there; I wish I had—he did not show me the way upstairs with a light—I did not say, "Hallo, Hurley, are you here?"—Patfield's wife showed me upstairs—she was not in bed; Patfield was—I looked everywhere—when Marks and Lane were taken out of the General Elliott, Hurley did not follow us to the station, nor did I tell him to go back—I never saw him from that day to this.
MR. COOPER. Q. Did you take Lane into custody? A. Yes—I know this hat (produced)—it is the one Lane had on.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Where was Lane when you took that hat from him? A. I did not take it from him; he was wearing it when he was taken into custody; I am quite sure of that—he and Marks were sitting down when I went into the General Elliott—I dare say I was there from twenty minutes to half an hour, waiting for another sergeant to come and assist me—I was in plain clothes—I can't say that Lane was wearing the hat the whole of that time; he might have taken it off; I can't say—Marks had a cap—he had that on the whole time—I found this cap (producing one) in Marks' pocket, and he was wearing that cap when I met him in Sloane-street, the night previously—Hurley wears an old cap; not a round hat like that produced—I know Hurley well—I never saw him wearing a round hat, and I have seen him daily.
JOHN HORNSBLOW (Policeman, B 24). On Wednesday, 5th November, about a quarter-past 10, I was waiting, in Sloane-square, for Birch, in plain clothes—I saw all the four prisoners come into Sloane-square; they were walking together—Lane left the three, and went and looked into the Star and Garter public-house—they walked slowly on up Sloane-street, and Lane went after them and joined them again—I had known Lane before, quite well—I saw them stop a distance up the street—I could not see who stopped them, but it appears it was Birch—lane was then wearing a black billycock hat, like that produced.
Butler. Q. How long have you known me? A. These eighteen months—I have been about twenty months in the B division.
Ford. Q. Do you say you saw me with Marks in Sloane-street? A. Yes—I know you quite well—I know it was you, because I took particular notice—I had occasion to do so—I saw your face—I saw all four of you—I was standing still when you passed within five yards of where I was—I am quite sure you were with Marks.
Ford. Q. I believe you were with the sergeant who came and took me out of bed, and said I was charged with a garotte robbery? A. I believe he said that—I don't recollect what you said—I think you said something about knowing nothing of it—I believe you said something as to who were the other three; but I was not interested in you; you were not my prisoner.
GEORGE STEPHENS (Policeman, A 236). I apprehended Ford at 2, Mermaid-yard, Chelsea—I woke him up, and told him he was charged, with three others in custody, with violently assaulting a person named Murray, and stealing a watch and 18s.—he said, "Who are the other three you have got?"—I said, "I don't know"—I waited while he dressed, and then I took hold of him—he said, "All right, master, I will go; I suppose I shan't get more than the rest"—on the way to the station he again asked who the three were that were in custody, and I gave him the same answer.
Ford. He told me I was charged with a garotte robbery; I said I did not know what it was; and he said, "Then you very soon will." Witness. That is not so.
JAMES BUTLER (Police-inspector). Marks and Lane, when first taken up, were brought to my station—I apprehended Marks myself on the 6th, at the General Elliott public-house—Mrs. Foster came to see them the same evening—before she came, Marks, Lane, and another man, who was taken into custody, were placed between eight others, in private clothes; four of them were constables; the other four were parties I did not know—some of them were about the same height and size as the prisoners—on Mrs. Foster coming in, she selected Marks and Lane out of them.
Butler. Q. She did not pick us out, did she? A. I was not there when you were brought in—I think it right to say that when the charge was taken, Lane made answer, and said he was not there.
COURT. Q. Four of the men were four of your force? A. Yes; men that I called up from the kitchen—they were all in plain clothes—I have since heard that two of the other men were lamp-lighters; they were not prisoners, but parties brought in out of the street.
COURT. Q. Was he wounded? A. Yes.
Marks. Q. You stated at a previous examination that he had been afflicted? A. He had a scar from a very extensive burn underneath his throat, and his lip was drawn down a little—I did not know him before.
Marks' Defence. I have nothing to say.
Butler's Defence. Sergeant Brett says that Hurley is about the size of me, and Mr. Murray says he cannot swear to me; the policeman saw me in Westminster at 3 o'clock, and searched me, and found nothing on me.
Ford's Defence. All I have got to say is, no one can swear I was there; no one saw me there; I was seen at 2 o'clock in Westminster, and searched by the officer, and nothing found on me.
MICHAEL MURRAY (re-examined). Hurley is my wife's daughter's husband's brother—I know him well—I cannot say that any of the prisoners are the men that attacked me, except Marks—I can't say whether or no Hurley was one that attacked me; he might not have been one—I can't say he was not
one of them—I never saw him wear a round hat like that produced he always had a cap when I saw him—I saw him a month ago, in the street about a week before this affair.
COURT to MR. NEALE. Q. What was the nature of the wound which the prosecutor had received? A. He was suffering from an immense loss of blood, his lips were very much swollen, his gums very much contused, and seven of his teeth were all but out—thinking to try and save the teeth, I did not attempt to take them out; but on the following Sunday mortification of the gums had taken place, and I was obliged to cut away the gums and take out the teeth—the wound was very likely inflicted with the naked fist, but the person who struck must have had a stone or something in his hand—I should not think it was done with anything projecting from the hand, or the lip would have been cut still more—the blow must have been a very heavy one, because the alvera processes were cut through, and broken, and came away with the teeth—he must have suffered dreadfully—he could not swallow for some days.
Marks, Lane, and Ford were further charged with having been before convicted of felony; Marks, at Maidstone, on 2d July, 1857, by the name of Thomas Morris, having been then previously convicted; sentence, seven years' penal servitude; Lane, on 9th August, 1855, at Guildhall, Westminster; sentence, three months; and Ford, in April, 1860, at Guildhall, Westminster; sentence, two months, and three years in a reformatory. To this part of the charge the prisoners severally PLEADED GUILTY.
ENOCH FULFORD , A 50, stated that he had Butler in custody it Westminster police-court, in July, 1858, when he was sentenced to three months' imprisonment, and three years in a reformatory; and that he had been several times in custody since.
MARKS— Penal Servitude for Life.
LANE, BUTLER, and FORD— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Friday, November 28th, 1862.
and Mr. Ald. ABBISS.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. KEMP and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, November 28th, 1862.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
FOURTH COURT.—Friday, November 28th, 1862.
MESSRS. SLEIGH and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE SKINNER . I am a butcher, carrying on business at Rusdon, in Northamptonshire—I know the prisoner—he keeps a beer-house at Newton Bromswald—he also keeps a couple of cows—on Saturday, the 6th December, he came to me, bringing a dead cow in a cart—he told me it had been stuck, and had bled well—he asked me to dress it for him—I said my son should dress it—it was dressed—I saw the carcase afterwards—the prisoner was present on Monday morning—it had been, dressed on the Saturday night—it looked very thin and dark—the weather was very bad—I did not see any disease upon it whatever; and, being so thin, it would cause it to look very bad for that class of meat—all that class of meat, in hanging would naturally look very bad, and every day it hangs it looks very much worse—the weather made it look dark—the prisoner asked me if I could sell it for him—I said it was so very thin, I could not do anything at all with it—I sometimes sell thin meat as well at fat—he asked me then to send it to London—I said, "No; it won't do for London, it is so very thin, and looks bad from hanging"—I said it looked so thin and bad the inspectors would take it, or something of that sort; I cannot recollect the exact words—I said, "I dare not send it to London"—I told him if it was detected he was liable to six months—he said it should go up to London—I cannot say the words he made use of—he said he would take all responsibility upon himself—it was packed by my son, in consequence of orders given me by the prisoner—it was consigned to Messrs. Bouser—I proposed sending it there, because he was my salesman—the prisoner was not present when I gave instructions to my son—I saw the prisoner again, on the Wednesday after the meat had been sent to London—I cannot all the exact words; we talked about it, and he said it was a bad job—I told him if he had been ruled by me he would not have sent it up.
Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD (with Mr. F. H. Lewis). Q. When he said he would take all the responsibility, did he say he did not agree with you that the meat was bad? A. He said he thought the meat was good—I have been a butcher mow than twenty years—I did not see anything unsound about it.
GEORGE HENRY SKINNER . I am the son of the last witness—I saw the prisoner on the Sunday morning—the cow was hung up in the shop dressed—my brother had dressed it—I was not present, and had nothing to do with dressing it—it appeared to be very poor and very thin—I heard the prisoner ask my father if he could sell it in the village—and my father said it was so very thin—then he asked my father if he could send it to London, and he said, "No; it is so very thin, and look so bad"—I am not certain that he said it looked so bad—he then asked if there was any disease upon it—my father said no; he did not see any disease upon it—the prisoner then said he thought it was good, and he should take the heart for his own eating, and it was given to him in my presence—I said if it were sent to London and got seized, he was liable to six months' imprisonment and 50l. penalty, and that there were four butchers from Leicester in gaol for the same offence—he said he thought it was good to eat, and he should not
mind eating it himself—I have been in the trade three or four years, and I did not see any particular disease upon it—I could not see anything different to its being healthy—I could not see anything to make it unhealthy—I should not have minded eating it—I out off the briskets from the carcase—I gave them to the dogs or pigs—the weather was very bad, I should say for twelve hours after they were cut off—it is not usual to cut off the briskets from healthy meat and give it to the pigs—the carcase was not as healthy as our own slaughtering—I never saw any of our own beasts look like this, I never slaughtered any so poor—I out off the briskets in the slaughter-house, where the carcase was hanging—I then put it in a hamper, as I was ordered—I was ordered to put it in a hamper—I could not get the whole carcase flat down in the hamper; then I cut off the briskets; I was not told to do so—I cut them off because they would not go into the hamper—that was the first cause—the second cause was that they looked thinner than the other part.
Q. Did you not cut them off because you thought them worse than the other parts, and you would not send them? A. Because it looked worse or thinner—these belly parts of meat always look thinnest—we give meat to the pigs or dogs, when it gets bad by hanging three or four days—I gave it to the pigs some time on Tuesday evening—they were not cut off until Monday evening—the meat was packed that evening towards dark, about 7 o'clock—I delivered the hamper to the carman, and said it was for Mr. Smart, and was to be charged accordingly.
Cross-examined. Q. What time did you first see the cow? A. It was Saturday evening—I did not know how long it had been killed—it was then hung up in the slaughter-house, partly dressed—the slaughter-house is in the yard, some distance from the house—we brew in it occasionally—it is a pretty good sized slaughter-house—we could hang up two beasts in it comfortably, and dress another—brewing utensils are in it—the carcase of the cow remained there until Monday night, about 7 o'clock—the briskets remained there all night, hung up somewhere—they remained there all Tuesday—I did not take any particular notice of the briskets then—there had been washing down in the slaughter-house on Monday.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Are these labels (produced) in your handwriting? A. Yes—one was put inside, and the other on the outside—it was addressed to Messrs. Bouser, where we usually consign meat—I heard on Tuesday night of the meat being seized in London—I saw the prisoner on Wednesday morning—I asked him whether he ordered my father to send it in his name, and whether he bore all the responsibility, and he told me he did—I did not mention anything about the meat being seized.
EDWARD RICKARDS . I am carman to the Midland Railway Company at the Ilchester station—on Monday, the 8th September, in the evening, I took a hamper from Mr. Skinner, for conveyance to London—one of the labels produced was on the outside—I took the hamper to the station, to be sent to London—it would leave the same night.
FREDERICK CROCKER . I am a clerk in the employ of the Midland Railway Company—on the 9th September, I received by that line a hamper, with this label upon it—I do not know where it was delivered, we have so many goods—it went in the ordinary course.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see it in the van on the journey? A. I
checked it off—I saw the hamper, and the van out of which it came—there were twenty-four hampers—the van watt quite full—the carman attends to the unpacking of the van—he is not here.
JAMES WASTIE . I am a salesman in Newgate-market, with Mr. Bouser—on the 9th September, a hamper was delivered at our premises, early in the morning—this label was upon it—I saw the meat opened—the briskets were out off—the meat was totally unfit to be exposed for sale—that unfitness was from the natural state of the animal at the time it was killed, poverty and disease combined—the time occupied in the transit to London might have made it appear a trifling degree worse, but no doubt the bad state it was in could have been seen at the time it was killed, by a person unacquainted with the trade of a butcher—I was not examined before the Magistrate—to-day is the only time I have been in Court on this subject—I was subpœnaed for the last session—I have had forty years' experience in the trade—Dr. Letheby has not seen this meat, that I am aware of.
JAMES NEWMAN . I am Inspector of Meat to Newgate-market, and have been so for nearly three years—on 9th September, I saw a hamper of meat at Messrs. Bouser's, at about half-past 5—it was four quarters of a cow, less the briskets, which had been out off—it was wet, and very flabby, and emaciated; the flesh of it was very much inflamed and very dark—I could not tell what state the animal was in when it died, as there were no lungs or any of the inside—I should say it was decidedly not a healthy animal—it must have been suffering from some internal disease for a considerable time—it was not merely poor, it was diseased—it was decidedly unfit for human food, and that unfitness was decidedly apparent to any person who saw it—I should think it would have been apparent on the day before to any one.
Cross-examined. Q. Is there not a great distinction between what is called diseased meat, and that which is merely bad by reason of the weather? A. There is—the leading distinction is not inflammation—traces of inflammation might indicate disease—mere wetness may be produced by bad weather accompanied by putrefaction—I was examined immediately after this matter occurred, and gave evidence before the Magistrate—I do not know whether I said anything about any traces of inflammation then; I know I said it was very bad (The witness's deposition being read, did not contain the word "inflammation," but stated "It looked of very bad quality, and as bad as ever I saw bad meat.")—before I was a City meat inspector, I was a meat inspector to the Board of Health for St. Pancras for five years—I inpected lodging-houses—I previously kept a butcher's shop—I have been a baker some years; back—four' years back; then I went to the Board of Health—I was a lawyer's clerk once.
CHARLES FISHER . I am an inspector of meat in Newgate-market, and have been so for fourteen years—on the 9th September, I saw some meat in Messrs. Bouser's shop, Newgate-market—it was four quarters of a cow, less the briskets—I examined it, and found it in a very wet state, I should apprehend, from disease; it was what in the trade is called a "wet 'un," generally the result of disease the general appearance of the meat indicated that the animal had been diseased—I can only indicate the wetness, and flabbiness, and general appearance altogether; to a practised eye it would be so—I doubt whether those indications would be apparent to a person who was not a butcher—when I saw the meat it was out of the hamper—I cannot tell who took it out—I did not see it taken out—in my opinion it was totally unfit for human food—I say so from its diseased state—there is
no doubt it would have presented the same appearance for some time previously—I should think immediately it was slaughtered.
Cross-examined. Q. Is not the condition of meat a question on which the inspectors differ sometimes? A. There have been doubtful cases, but I don't consider this a doubtful case—we have differed, certainly—sometimes one has been called to prove it fit, and another to prove that meat was totally unfit for human food—I have been called as a witness, and said I would eat meat which other inspectors have said was totally unlit for food; that was my opinion.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Would you have eaten this? A. I would not.
THOMAS BULT . I am a salesman in Newgate-market—I saw the meat at Messrs. Bouser's, on the 9th of September—there were nearly four quarters, all but the two briskets—I should think it was between 5 and 6 in the morning when I saw it—it was in very bad condition; not very putrid, but it appeared to me to be diseased—it was very wet and loose—it had every appearance of being a diseased animal—it was also very poor—it was certainly not fit for human food—I should think an ordinary observer would have noticed that the meat was not sound—I merely saw it when the hamper was open, and I had the hamper closed immediately—I did not open it; it was opened by one of the men, who called my attention to it—I do aot know who took it out of the hamper.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you been examined before? A. No—I was subpœnaed for the last session, but the case did not come on.
MR. BEASLEY. Q. You are a partner of Mr. Bouser's? A. Yes.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOSEPH ROOTHAN . I am a farmer, residing at Geldon, in Bedfordshire—my fields are in the same parish as prisoner's—I have known him perfectly well for thirty years—he has been in the occupation of a public-house and some land for the last sixteen or seventeen years—I recollect being at work in the fields on the 6th September—the prisoner was at work in an adjoining field—I saw his two cows—I thought them very nice cows—they were feeding upon clover all the time I was there—I saw them leave the field and come back again—the prisoner called to me, and I went into his field to see the cows—they were then feeding upon the clover—I saw the cow killed—it was struck in about an hour from its going out of the field—it seemed to be quite well—I told him to kill it.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. Was the cow fat? A. No; it was very thin—the cow appeared to walk comfortably on coming back into the field—I did not see the carcase after the skin was off—I did not see any of the briskets—he never made me a present of any of it; he never made me a present in his life—I never ate any part of the cow.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Do you know what being "blowed" is? A. I do a little—several different things will make a cow "blowed"—I believe eating clover and drinking after it will do so.
COURT. Q. Have you had much experience with cows? A. No; very little—I know very little about cows being blowed—being blowed, I expect, is a stoppage of the gut, I suppose with wind—I do not know—I have heard of a knife being put into a cow, in a certain part, when it is blowed—I never saw it done.
DANIEL TWELVETREE . I live at Newton, Broomswald—I know the prisoner—I knew his cows; one calved—I do not know the date—I was working in my field on 6th September, and I was called in to look at the cow—it was afterwards killed—the prosecutor told me he thought it was blowed—I told him he had better have it killed, and I killed it there and then.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. Did you see the cow between August and the 6th September? A. I saw it several times grazing in the field close to my work—she was in a low condition; the milk will keep them down if they are short of keep with it—in my judgment she was quite well until the 6th September—I did not see it after the carcase was skinned—I did not see the briskets—I did sot cut it up after I killed it—I never saw the inside of the cow at all—I only speak from external appearances.
COURT. Q. Was the cow blowed? A. I do not understand much about being "blowed," she was so full of wind, I thought she was blowed—I have heard of a knife being stuck in to let the wind out, but I do not know anything at all about it.
MARY SMART . I am the daughter of the prisoner—I recollect the cow being killed—my father brought home the heart—we afterwards ate it—my brother and sister ate some—it was very nice—it was on the 14th September—the cow was killed in our field—I did not see it killed, nor cut up—the heart had been salted.
JOHN KNIGHT . I am a carrier—I am in Mr. Skinner's shop every day—I remember being there on Monday, 8th September, when there was a carcase hanging up there; I had the head of it—I did not buy it, he gave it me—I cut off part of the cheeks, and salted it, and the tongue and the roots I dined off the next day, with my family, my two sons, and daughters; it was good—it was thin, but it was sweet.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. You saw the whole carcase, did you not? A. Yes; the briskets were in a very good state; they were thin, but they were sweet—in my opinion they were the briskets of a healthy cow, but it was thin—I saw it on Saturday, 6th September.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY POVIS . I am a sergeant in the Royal Marines, quartered at Woolwich—the prisoner is a private in the same corps—on Thursday, the 30th October, he came to my house, No. 4, Bowling-green-row, Woolwich—it was a quarter-past 9 as near as possible—I heard him ask if I was at home—I know his voice well, being acquainted with him for a considerable time—I immediately rose from my seat, and told him I should take him to the Barracks, as I knew he had no business there, and he had broken the Barracks' confinement—I had had him confined that morning for some military offence—he said he would see me b—d, and he advanced to me with his right hand in his pocket, and asked me why I had been talking about him—I told him I had not—he said I was a liar—he then, in a very cool manner, seated himself on a chair for a minute or two, and said he had a word to say; one or two words would be quite sufficient—I objected to his sitting down, and he said, "You b—, you shall have it"—he then struck me a blow on the mouth with his left fist—the landlady, Mrs. Norton, interposed—he caught me by the hair—I got away, and went up stairs and locked myself in—that is all I saw of him; we were not together again that night, except at the police-station.
Prisoner. Q. Whereabouts did I strike you? A. On the mouth—you left a mark and it was a little puffed—I did not show it to any one; it was a little swollen—I pointed it out to the landlady—when you had hold of my hair, the landlady was between us—I cannot say how you could do it; I only know you did—I stooped down behind Mrs. Norton to avoid the blow—she said, "For God's sake, get out of the way!"—I said, "I can't; he has hold of my hair—you left go, and when you released me, I took care to get out of the way; it was my duty to do so—I was tried for felony, I admit—I told you so myself, previously to joining the service.
MR. CLERK. Q. How long have you been in the service? A. Nineteen years and ten months, within a few days.
MARTHA NORTON . I am the wife of John Norton, of Bowling-green-row, Woolwich—the prisoner came to the house on the evening of the 30th October, about a quarter-past 9—he asked for Sergeant Povis—the sergeant saw him, and there was some discussion, and the prisoner struck him on the mouth slightly—I urged the sergeant to go upstairs, and he did so—the prisoner went away in a few minutes, and came back again—he had a knife in one hand and a bottle in the other, containing liquid—the knife was not open—he said the knife was for the sergeant and the contents of the bottle for himself—the sergeant had then gone to barracks, but I told the prisoner he was upstairs—he then went away, and came back again—he came two or three times—I could not say whether he had anything in his hands after the first time—shortly after, the police-constable Sykes came to the house—he asked the prisoner what he had got in his hand—he said a bottle—then he asked him what he had got in his hand behind him, and he said, "Would you not like to have it?" and ran away.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see me strike Sergeant Povis? A. I saw you raise your hand, but I was laying on the couch at the time—I did not see you strike him—he showed me his cheek afterwards—I jumped off the couch between you—I did not see you catch him by the hair—I was between you—he was behind me—I told him to go away—he said you had hold of his hair—he asked you to let go—when you let go he went up stairs—I asked you then to go to barracks.
GEORGE SYKES (Policeman, Woolwich Dockyard Division, 135). On Thursday night, the 30th October, I was called to go to the prisoner—he was at the corner of Sergeant Povis's house, in Bowling-green-row—he was standing there when I first saw him—I asked him what he had got in his hand—I saw in his left hand a bottle—I asked him what he had got in his right hand—he said, "You can have it," and he made a dart at me with an open knife—I rushed towards him, and he ran away—I did not take him at that time—I saw him again about a quarter of an hour afterwards, standing at the top of the street, about twenty yards from the house—I went behind him and took hold of him, and he kicked me and got away from me—he then put his hand in the right side pocket of his trousers, and took out this knife (produced) and opened it—I saw him open it—he said, "Now, you b—, come on"—I then drew my staft and struck him across the arms; he then closed with me, and some bystanders took the knife out of his hand—we were closed together about a quarter of a minute—I did not feel anything until I got to the station—I took the prisoner there with the assistance of other constables—I found then that I was stabbed on the left shoulder, through a cape, two coats, one brace, and two shirts—I was bleeding through the shirts—I searched the prisoner—I found upon him two songs, a piece of of wax,
two bottles, one containing some liquid; it was marked, "Laudanum, poison"—I was laid up, and off duty for ten days by the wound.
Prisoner. Q. Was it you and Mr. Fish who caught hold of me at the top of Bowling-green-row? A. It was me—I struck you across the arms first when you closed with me—I struck you afterwards on the head—I cannot say how deep the wound was on my shoulder.
HENRY BROWN . I am assistant to Mr. Huard, a surgeon—I attended the last witness for some time after the 30th October—he had a wound on the top of the shoulder—the knife produced would cause such a wound—I observed the cape, coats, and brace, they had been cut through, corresponding to the wound in the shoulder—it would require considerable force to inflict such a wound—I examined the contents of the bottle marked "Laudanum"—they consist of laudanum and sulphuric ether, not sufficient to destroy life.
Prisoner. Q. What was the depth of the wound? A. It was superficial—more than an eighth of an inch.
Prisoner's Defence. On the night of the 30th October, I went out with a few comrades to a public-horse. I was sitting there, when one of the men told me that Sergeant Povis had been talking about me. I wanted to find out what he said, but they would not tell me. Then I got up to go to Sergeant Povis to find out from him. I went there. He knowing I was absent from barracks wanted me to go to the guard room. I told him I wanted to talk with him first. I made a blow at him and struck him; I do not think I hurt him at all, but as for getting him by the hair I could not possibly get at him, for this woman was standing between him and me. Then he went out, whether to barracks or up stairs, I do not know. I came back two or three times. I might have had a knife in my hand; I do not know whether I did or not. I was standing at the top of the street, when a man named Fish came by and told me to go away. I was going towards Bowling-green-row, when I met the constable Sykes; he got in front of me to stop me. I struck at him with my left hand, then he struck me across the wrist with his buton. He closed with me, and struck me across the head and made a serious wound. He raised his staff again. When I saw him raising his staff again, I put my hand in my pocket and drew my knife, and closed with him, and somehow he got a wound. It was not done with any intention, because I had nothing against the constable. If it had been the sergeant who closed with me, I would not have said what the consequence might have been, but I had no intention to injure the constable. That is all I have to say.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
84. WILLIAM MARSHMAN (54), was indicted for stealing 4 carriage springs, value 2l., and 3 carriage axles, value 15s., of Jonathan Ellis, his master; to which he PLEADED GUILTY; and ALFRED COULSON (36) , for feloniously receiving the same property, knowing it to have been stolen.
MR. WAY conducted the Prosecution.
keep stores for the purpose of my cab business—Marshman has been in my employment as stable man and driver for some five years—I have known Coulson for two years—he knew Marshman, and must have known that he was in my employ—we were all living close together—on 8th November I missed from the shed, three cab axles and nine cab-springs—the springs would be worth together, about 4l. 10s., and the axles about 1l. 5s. or a little more—I can't say how shortly before they were safe—I immediately gave notice to the police, and on the same afternoon I saw the policeman Margetson meet Coulson—I was called up by the policeman, and Coulson said, "Come here, I will tell you all about it"—I asked him whom he got the springs from—he said, "From Bill Marahman"—I asked him how many he had—he said, "Four, and three axles"—I asked him what he gave for them—he said, "Ten shillings"—the policeman then told him he had better get home, and we would see Marshman—we then went to Marshman's house and found him at home—we brought him with us to Coulson's house—we saw Coulson standing at the door, and the policeman said, "Is this the man you sold the springs to?"—Marshman first denied it, but afterwards acknowledged it, and said he was very sorry for what he had done—Coulson said, "It is no use to deny it, Marshman," and told the police-officer the springs were in doors—there was a word or two mentioned about the price, that he had paid him 10s., that is all I heard—I saw the springs and axles there—they were my property—this one (produced) is one of them.
Cross-examined by MR. ABRAM. Q. You have known Coulson some years, I believe? A. Yes—he is a greengrocer—I have never heard anything but a very good character of him—he always bore a good character as a hard working man—these springs are not new ones; they are newly done up—I know a man named Balcolm, a wheelwright—I don't know that he has valued these springs at 25s.—I have not heard anything stated about the price—I heard Coulson say that he had given Marshman 10s.—Marshman did not deny that—he did not in my hearing tell Marshman that he was to have more money than the 10s.—I and the constable went together and met Coulson, in South-street—I was on a cab at the time, with the policeman, and when he saw Coulson coming, I pulled up, and he got down from the cab—I was about fifty yards off when he first spoke to Coulson—I stood where I was; they were scarcely two minutes in conversation together, and then I was called up—Coulson immediately said to me that he had the springs, and had them of Marshman, and if I would go with him, he would show me where they were—he did not state that one pair was at the wheelwright's—there was no concealment about it—he took me home, and showed them to me—I did not hear any conversation about his buying them of a man in Smithfield.
JAMES MARGETSON (Policeman, R 122). On 8th November, from information I received, I was on a cab with Mr. Ellis, and saw Coulson—we were going in the direction he was coming—he was in his pony and trap—when I saw him coming, I got down off the cab and stopped him—Mr. Ellis still remained on the box—Coulson was about two or three yards off, just close handy—I asked him if he had not got a new trap being made at the wheelwright's in the Lewisham-road—he said, yes, he had—I did not mention the wheelwright's name, I was not sure of it at that time—his name is Balcolm—I said, "Whom did you buy the springs of, and the axletrees, or how did you come in possession of them?"—he said, "I bought them of a respectable man in London, and I gave 10s. for them"—I said, "What part of London does he live, and what is his name"—he said, "I don't know his name, and
I don't know what part of London he lives"—I said, "That is very strange"—he then said, "Tell Mr. Ellis to come here, and I will tell him all about it"—he could see Mr. Ellis at that time, he was close handy—I said, "You may as well tell me, I know as much about it as Mr. Ellis"—Mr. Ellis then came up, and Coulson said to him, "I bought them springs and axletree of Manhman, your horse-keeper"—I asked him if he had any more—he said, "No, I have no more"—I said, "I shall have to go to your house and search your house," and afterwards, in my presence, he told Mr. Ellis that he had bought four nutcracker springs, and three axles—I told him he had better go home, and I would go and see Marshman—I then went to Marshman's house, and brought him to Coulson—I then asked Coulson if that was the man he had bought the springs of—he said he was—I then asked him where they were—he said, "You will find them in the cupboard in the front room"—I went to the cupboard, where I found three nutcracker springs and two axles—Marshman then said, "Those are the ones I sold you, the ones I took from my master"—Mr. Ellis identified them as his property—Coulson said to Marshman, "I paid you 10s. for them"—Marshman said, "You have not paid for them at all; I have not sold them"—Coulson said, "I paid you 10s. for them"—I afterwards got two springs from the wheelwright; they were not nutcracker springs, but they had been separated, so as to make two springs for the truck—when Coulson said, "I paid 10s. for them" Marshman made no further answer—I afterwards got from Bulcolm, the wheelwright, two springs and one axle, which were identified by Mr. Ellis.
Cross-examined. Q. You have known Coulson for some time? A. Yes—I always knew him to be a respectable man—I never heard anything to the contrary—Mr. Ellis was about two or three yards from me when I spoke to Coulson: I would not say positively to a yard—I don't think he could hear—I was not more than a minute in conversation with Coulson before I called Mr. Ellis up—I have been in the police force eight years—I am prepared to swear that the conversation about buying the springs of a man in London took place, and he afterwards said to Mr. Ellis, "I bought them of your horsekeeper, old Bill Marshman"—I am sure he add, "Your horsekeeper "—I knew he had a barrow being built—I never heard Marshman say he was to receive any money at all—I never said so to any one—I am quite certain of that—I sent Coulson home because I knew him very well—I always thought him to be a respectable man—I did not think he would attempt to run away—the springs at Balcolm's were on a barrow—they had only just been put on that afternoon—it was one spring made into two—I understood before the Magistrate that the prosecutor valued them at 10s. each—I do not know that Balcolm has valued them at 25s.—he has never said that to me at all.
COULSON received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
MARSHMAN recommended to mercy by the prosecutor.— Confined Six Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE ROWELL . I live at 3, Plumstead-road, Woolwich—on Saturday, 12th November, about 12 o'clock, I was in a public-house in High-street, Woolwich, with two friends—we had been there from half-past 8—one of my friends wished us good night, and went home; and about 12 o'clock I looked for my other friend, and met a woman, who said she would take me to him at her house—I took a pot of beer in my hand, and paid for it, and when I got inside the house the woman put the candle on the table, and the prisoners came in—Needham came in and held my arms, Burley put his hands over my mouth, and Smith to my throat, and stopped my breath—Burley then took off my handkerchief and my flannel shirt—one had hold of me and the other came with his head down, took me by the throat, and choked me; and then he let go of my throat, and drew off my handkerchief and flannel shirt—I told Burley that I knew him, having seen him three hours before, and I little thought he would serve me like that—he said that he would knock my brains out unless I went out quietly—I went out, and was glad to get out—Needham and Smith then came up to me—Needham said, "Let him have it," and held his fist up—Smith said, "Hold on" three times over, and they put their knuckles into the back of my neck, nipping me till I got to the gas-lamp, and then they ran away, and I gave information to the police—I afterwards saw Needham at the station-house, and picked him out—I had had about three pints to drink—I was sober—I can swear that these are the men.
COURT. Q. Were you sober or not? A. I had had about two pints, from two to three—this (produced) is my handkerchief—the shirt has not been found.
Smith. Q. Did you say when I was taken to the police-station that the first place you saw me was outside the door? A. No—I told the policeman that you were the man who prevented me from being killed, but I did not any that I did not want you to be locked up—the policeman did not advise me to go home to my wife and five children—you ran away before I met the policeman—I said that I would treat you with a pot of beer—that was to get out of that street into the main street.
COURT. Q. You say that you told the policeman you should have been killed if if had not been for him? A. At the station-house I did when he was taken—I only said it because he was standing with his hands over me—I was afraid—Smith did protect me afterwards; but during the robbery he stood over me with both hit fists then—the third man came into the room, but he never spoke—he stood over me with both fists up, and he followed me outside, and the young one with him; and Needham and Smith had hold of the back of my neck—I had had two or three pints—I am sure it was not half a dozen—there were five or six of us to three pots, and then we had two more pots—I did not drink more than my share—we were three hours and a half drinking it—we did not go there to get tipsy, only to spend the evening—it was a brothel I went to, but I was not aware of it—I had 3s. 10d. in my pocket—I did not feel them put their hands in my pockets, and cannot say whether there was any attempt to take it—I had no watch—they stopped my breath, and made me silly.
Burley. Q. At the station you said that you treated us to brandy and water? A. No.
JOHN HOLMES (Policeman, R 145). I received information of the robbery about half-pant 12 o'clock on the morning of the 2d, and went to 9, Hooper's yard, Woolwich, the house the prosecutor entered with the woman—I saw Needham in the passage with the woman, who had gone home with the prosecutor
—I told him he was charged with stealing a handkerchief and a flannel-shirt—he said, "All right, matter, I will go on with you, but you have got the wrong party this time—going to the station we met the prosecutor, who identified him—I went to No. 10, in the same street, about three-quarters of an hour afterwards, and found Smith standing behind the water closet door—I told him the charge—he said, "All right, I will go with you"—I took him to the station—they were searched, but nothing was found on them—Smith was identified by the prosecutor afterwards went with Wickham to the second floor of No. 9, and Wickham drew Burley out from under the bedstead with his clothes on, and this pocket handkerchief (produced) was found on his neck—he made some statement at the station about it, but not at the time.
Smith. Q. hen you came to the closet was not I sitting down? A. No, you were standing up—I did not say "You b—," and strike you—I said that I wanted you for the same thing that I had got Burley for—I did not strike you with my staff—you were perfectly upright behind the door—I did not say at the station that I would make up something else against you, or that I would knock your brains out.
Burley. You charged me with stealing a handkerchief; I said I had not stolen any handkerchief. I had a handkerchief on my neck, which I had found on the landing; I thought it belonged to somebody in the house. Witness. He made no statement about the handkerchief till he was brought up on remand before the Magistrate, and then he said that he found it on the stairs—you could just discover that the prosecutor had been drinking.
JOHN WICKHAM . (Policeman, R 185). I took Burley, and found this handkerchief (produced) on his neek—I drew him from under the bed, and said that I wanted him for stealing a handkerchief and a flannel-shirt from a man—I said, "Where is the handkerchief?"—he said, "You see here it is"—I took it from under his neck and said, "Is Smith in this job?" he said, "Yes"—I said, "Where is he?"—he said, "Downstairs in the next yard; is Jerry locked up?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I am a fool for getting collared for this job; I deserve all I shall get"—he said nothing about the handkerchief till he was brought up on remand.
Burley. He first said that I made no statement at all. I made no such statemeut as he makes here; I only said that I thought it belonged to somebody in the house; he has often threatened to get up a case against me, and that he would lag me. Witness. It is not true, I cautioned him about the company he was keeping the last time he came out of prison.
Needham's Defence. I am innocent.
Smith's Defence. I know no more of it than a child unborn.
Burley's Defence. I never saw the man before I was at the station-house.
NOT GUILTY; but the Jury expressed an opinion that they committed an assault.
MR. DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM BEGENT . On 1st November, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I met a woman in the Coach and Horses public-house, High-street, Woolwich—she induced me to go home to her room in Arden's-lane, and then asked me to give her some money to pay her rent—I gave her 3s., she went out, and returned with the three prisoners, who said te me, "Out you go"—I said,
"Stop a minute; I know you three"—I said to the woman, "You give me my money, and I will go"—they knocked me down on the bed, and rifled my pockets—two of them got their hands over my throat, and very nearly strangled me—one had his hands over my eyes, so that I could not see who picked my pocket—the prisoners then went out—I followed them, and they gave me a punch on the head, and run away—I lost sight of them—I had seen them before about town, and gave information to the police—I saw them at the station about two hours afterwards.
Needham. You called out, "That is them" before you saw us. Witness. You came out of the cell one at a time—you were called out by your names—I could see others in the cell—I did not see you with other persons—I said before the Magistrate that another man came to turn me out—I told him he had no business there, and he went away; but you were the first man that came into the room.
Burley. The constable has often threatened to do for me, and bring something against me. You said that there were more men in the cell; there was only one man, and he was lying on a sack blind drunk. Witness. I am sure you are the three men who robbed and assaulted me—I have known Needham fifteen years, Smith two or three years, and you two or three years.
COURT. When you gave information to the police, did you give a description of the prisoners? A. Yes—I knew Needham's name, but I did not mention it, because I hardly knew what I was doing—I could hardly speak for ten minutes, and my throat was sore for a fortnight where they strangled me.
Needham. I saw the first constable telling this man what to say during the first trial. Witness. That is not true.
MR. DICKIE. Q. Did either of them strike you in the room? A. Yes, and I saw his face by a lamp.
JOHN HOLMES (Policeman, R 145). I took the prisoners on the first charge, and the prosecutor called at the station and complained; the cell-door was unlocked, and he was shown the prisoners—there were two other men in the cell—he said, "I do not want to see any more; I know them well by sight"—there was gas alight—I have not been threatening to do for the prisoners, or put them away.
Smith. Q. Did not you say you would fetch a light? A. No; the gas was alight: it is kept burning all night, and the prosecutor looked in, and identified you all, amongst five.
JURY. Q. Were the three prisoners brought into the passage, or left in the cell? A. The prosecutor went to the cell-door and saw them—there was no light in the cell, but there was one in the lobby immediately facing the cell-door.
Needham's Defence. I am quite innocent.
Smith's Defence. I never saw the man before; I have only been home from the East Indies nine weeks.
Burley's Defence. I have been away in the Mediterranean, and had not been in Woolwich for two or three years.
NEEDHAM was further charged with a previous conviction at Woolwich Police-court, in April, 1862; to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude. —BURLEY was further charged with a previous conviction at Maidstone, in October, 1861; to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Three Years' Penal Servitude. —SMITH, Three Years' Penal Servitude.
Police-inspector Lindell stated that Needham had been twelve times in custody,and six or seven times summarily convicted; that Smith had been four times in custody, though only convicted of assaults; and that Burley had been twice in custody for assaulting the police.
Before Mr. Recorder.
88. GEORGE PINKS (27), JEREMIAH NEAL, (45), and JOSEPH TUCKER (34) , Stealing 3 sacks and 840 pounds of flour, the property of William Archer, and another. Second Count, Feloniously receiving the same.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
WALTER BETTS (City-policeman, 461). On Thursday, 6th November, about 7 o'clock, I was at the corner of Union-street, and saw the three prisoners—Neal and Pinks were pulling a truck, and Tucker was pushing it behind—I followed them over London-bridge to Union-street, Bishopagate—they turned down across Turnmill-street into Church-street, Spitalfields—I there met policemen Hawkes and Clark, and we went up to Neal, and asked him what he had got there—he let go of the handle of the truck, and said, "I was hired this side of London-bridge"—I took him to the station, where he said that he was hired on this side of London-bridge to pull the truck to the Eastern Counties Railway, and was to have 1s. for it, and if I felt in his pocket I should find the shilling—I examined the truck—it contained three sacks of flour, branded "William Archer & Sons, Southwark Steam Mills"—I had kept the prisoner in sight, and no hiring took place—the Eastern Counties goods' department closes at 6 o'clock in winter—this was at a quarter to 7—it keeps open till 7 or 8 in winter.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Where did you come up with them? A. In Church-street, Spitalfields—they had just turned out of the Commercial-road—they could only get to the Eastern Counties that way by going a roundabout way—it would have been a few minutes out of their way.
MR. PATER. Q. At what pace were they going? A. As fast as they could get away with it—it was not raining—the sacks were not covered.
JOHN HAWKES (City-policeman, 633). On 6th November I saw the three prisoners in Bishopsgate-street—two were drawing a truck at a sort of half-trot, and Pinks was pushing behind—I asked Pinks what he had got in the truck—he said he did not know—I asked him where he was going with it—he said, "To the Eastern Counties Railway-station," letting go the handle of the trunk, I attempted to seize him, but he ran off—he was knocked down by a man, and I secured him—I saw some persons walking on the footpath together—they turned up Crispin-street, Union-street—Tucker went into the "Ten Bells" public-house—Betts secured Neal, and I secured Pinks.
JAMES BLOGG (Policeman, G 129). I took Tucker—I followed him into the "Ten Bells?" and told him I wanted him—he said, "Me," and never spoke another word till he got to the station, when he said that he was asked to give a push behind.
WILLIAM ARCHER . I am proprietor of the steam flour-mills, Hart-street, Southwark, and am in partnership with my son—these three sacks of flour are our property, and are worth six guineas—they are branded with our name, and were in our possession within a week previous—I identify the flour in them, it is peculiar; it is made at Adelaide, in Australia, and is a finer colour, and a different manufacture to anything we have here—there are only about five cargoes of it sent over in a year—we had landed a cargo within a
week of its abstraction—it was damaged, and we put it through a sieve, and through a cylinder to extract anything which might he in it—it was placed on one of the floors of the warehouse—these sacks do not contain the same quantity of flour—they have been filled indiscriminately, and one sack was filled the wrong side out—not bearing our name as it should do.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you sold any of the flour? A. A good deal, but not in our own sacks—we do sell large quantities of flour in our own sacks, and have hundreds of sacks out—we got 11,000 begs from Australia, weighing 1 cwt. 3 qrs. each—a good deal of it was sold—I do not swear that we had missed any, we cannot say, having a large stock—we cannot find out till we take stock, bat we identify the flour, and the sacks also.
MR. PATER. Q. I understand you have not sold any of the flour in your own sacks? A. No, but we sold a good deal in the original sacks, after having gone through the process that was required—it was then placed on the floor of the wharf, on a heap—it must have been taken by persons on the premises.
PINKS and NEAL— GUILTY on the Second Count.— Confined Nine Months
each. TUCKER— NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM OTT . I live at 1, York-place, Walworth-road, St. Mary Newington, and am a plumber—on 20th October, a little after 8 o'clock, I went to bed, being ill—my wife did not come to bed till 11—I was awoke by my wife saying that she had put her foot against something—I told her to get into bed again—she then gave a shriek, and I got out of bed—after I had lit a candle I went into an adjoining room, and saw the prisoner with a life-preserver in his hand—I made a start to seize him, and he struck me on my head with the life-preserver, and jumped out of the window—the candle was alight, and I could see his eyes and his beard—the blow staggered me, and I was obliged to hold the partition—I could not get away—the prisoner was brought back three hours afterwards, and I saw the constable take a number of things out of his pocket, among which was this part of a handkerchief (produced)—here is the other half of it—he had a victorine round his mouth, covering a portion of his nose—I shall be a long while before I recover—I was too ill to appear last sessions—here is the effect of the blow (producing a handkerchief covered with blood).
Prisoner. Q. When I was brought to your shop did the constable ask you whether I was the man who struck you? A. The moment I saw your figure, I said, "That is the man who struck me," and at the police-station I said that I knew you by your figure.
MARY OTT . I am the prosecutor's wife—on 20th October I went to bed about 11 o'clock, having locked all the doors and windows, as far as I generally do—they were all closed—before going to bed I cut a silk handkerchief in two, and placed half round my neck, and the other half on the drawers—I afterwards got out of bed for a drink of water—I put my hand to the drawers, and felt something with my foot—I put my hand down, and felt a man's back—I shouted out, "Oh, father, here is somebody in the room—my
husband was then attacked, and the prisoner was brought back two hours afterwards, and half of the handkerchief taken from his pocket by the policeman.
HENRY MOORE (Policeman, P 192). On 21st October I was int he Walworth-road, and heard a cry of "Police"—I went to Mr. Ott's shop, and found him bleeding very much—I took the prisoner at a quarter-past 5, in the back mews of No. 4, York-street—he came over a wall, and I caught him, and took him to Mr. Ott's, and then to the station—I returned to the spot where I first saw him, and found this life-preserver there—when I took him he was wearing this boa round his neck, and this red handkerchief in his pocket, and a pipe, two knives, and a purse—this box of soap was found in the garden afterwards.
Prisoner. Q. Did not Mr. Ott say that I was like the figure of the man? A. No, he said you were the man who struck him.
Prisoner's Defence. I was in company with two shipmates, and got intoxicated, and laid down to sleep. The constable did not take the things from me.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
There was another indictment against the prisoner.
JOHN DUNSTAN TIDD . I live at 6, Dorset-place, North, Clapham-road, and am a biscuit-baker—the prisoner worked for me about ten weeks, and had left me five or six weeks—on Thursday-morning, 6th November, about twenty minutes past 5, I was called up, and found that the house had been entered from the staircase window, which is about fifteen feet high from the yard—there was a pair of steps there, but they would not be high enough—two persons could manage to do it—the window had been secured by a cross bolt, which had been forced up by a knife—I had fastened it myself—I missed a time-piece, four or five coats, a dress, three or four umbrellas, a riding-whip, and some things out of my wife's work-box, which they had forced open, value altogether about 30l., also 7s. or 8s. in silver, and some packets of coppers; two bottles of port wine, and some brandy, had been consumed, and some old Curacoa had been opened, which they did not seem to like—I had seen the prisoner loitering about my neighbourhood for three or four days—these articles are mine—they were all safe the previous night.
HENRY GILES . I am in Mr. Tidd's service—I do not reside on the premises—on the morning of 6th November, I went to work about twenty minutes to 5 o'clock—I let myself into the bakehouse, and then went through into the house—I have to ring the bell usually, and have the door opened, but I found the back door open, went into the back kitchen, and found the gas burning, and the place strewed with things—the liquer frame was brought down there, but finding that it was not silver they had left it behind—my master keeps a fuxrious dog, which usually runs about the bakehouse—he was loose on this morning, but I found this handkerchief (produced) tied to the table leg, by which he had been tied up—I have seen the prisoner with this handkerchief—he showed it to me once, and said that if was one which he had naited—I have seen him about the Clapham-road, but he works there.
Prisoner. I never had the handkerchief, I will take my oath.
THOMAS MASON (Policeman). On Thursday, 6th November, I received information of this robbery, and about half-past 5 o'clock saw the prisoner standing at the end of the mews—he appeared to have been drinking, and asked me the way to Clapham-common—I said that I would show him—he pretended to be French, but I knew too much French for him, and knew that he was not French—I took him in custody—he was wearing this coat, containing a silver thimble, and in his trouser's pocket, these tweezers, button hook, and a table napkin.
Prisoner's Defence. I left the Victoria Theatre about 2 o'clock, got drinking with two young chaps, and remember nothing more till I found myself in the station.
GUILTY .— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. ROBINSON and POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE DUBTCH . I am a carman, in the employ of the London and South-western Railway Company—it is my duty to deliver goods—on the 30th July, I took some butter to Mr. Hutley's, a cheesemonger, in High-street, St. Giles—I had this way-bill (produced) when I took out the goods—the first entry is six firkins—I delivered those—there is also an entry of twelve firkins, for which 11s. 3d. is carried out as the price of carriage—I received that money from Mr. Hutley—for the six firkins I received no money, because there was no sum carried out—Mr. Dale has signed the way-bill—when we deliver goods we leave a document of the same kind as this (produced)—then we take the way-bill to Nine Elms—I hand over the money I have received to the cashier.
THOMAS CHOWN . I am a carman, in the employ of the London and South-western Railway Company—on the 25th of August, I delivered some goods to Mr. Hutley, High-street, St. Giles—this way-bill (produced) is the one I had with me on that occasion—I did not receive the money for the twenty firkins, as the figures are not carried out—I returned the way-bill in the evening, to the Nine Elms station, and paid over the money I received.
JOB BECHLEY . I am a carman, in the employ of the London and South-western Railway Company—on the 28th of August, I delivered some goods at Mr. Hutley's, High-street, St. Giles—this way-bill (produced) was the way-bill I had—I delivered the goods there mentioned—it is my duty to receive the money when it is carried out—I did receive 2s. for two firkins mentioned here.
JAMES HENRY DALE . I am cashier to Mr. Hutley—I recollect, on the 23d of July, some goods being delivered—the carriage was not paid at the time—they were six firkins of butter—I think I paid for other goods at the time—I do not recognise the prisoner—I recollect a person calling with these documents (produced)—the person who brought them, signed them in my presence.
CHARLES HAYGREEN . I am in the service of the London and South-western Railway Company—I know the prisoner, and his handwriting—the document (produced) for the 5s. 8d., is signed by him, to the best of my belief—so are those for 17s. 8d. and 2s.
him 5s. 8d., and saw him sign it—he applied for payment for the London and South-western Railway Company—I received some goods on the 25th August, the carriage of which was not paid at the time, and it amounted to 17s. 8d.—I cannot remember whether the same person came with another document for 17s. 8d.—the (produced) was the one left with me—on the 28th of August, I received other goods from the London and South-western Railway Company—they were delivered without payment, the carriage afterwards appeared to be 2s.—this document (produced) was signed by the person bringing it, upon my paying the 2s.
CHARLES HAYGREEN (continued). I am chief cashier, in the floods department of the Company—the prisoner was a clerk in the office—he was called a clearing book clerk—the bills the carmen take out are brought back to Nine Elms—the prisoner in the course of his duty would have access to those bills—he would also have access to the smaller documents upon which the receipts are written—he had no authority whatever to receive monies for goods delivered—if he had it would have been his duty to hand the money over to me or the cashier under me—he did not hand me over the sum of 5s. 8d., or the 17s. 8s., or the 2s.—I was not aware that he had received those monies.
Prisoner. Q. Did you never give me instructions to receive money? A. I never gave you instructions not to receive money—it was not part of your duty—it would be the collector's duty to collect the different sums—if the carmen receive money they pay it to the regular cashier—it would depend on circumstances to whom they paid it—in some cases they would hand it over to Mr. Kellow, if the principal cashier was not there—I do not know that Mr. Kellow ever received instructions from me to have those monies, if they came, given to him—that would be out of his department—I said at the police-court, it was not your place to make out the tickets for collection—I find you have been in the habit of doing so—I was not cognizant of the fact, that you were making out this description of tickets—I did not recognise it as part of your duty—it would be either Mr. Warner's or Mr. Hornsby's.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Supposing these tickets were made out by him, what should be done with them? A. They would be put into the collector's hands: either Foote or Laitch—Kellow is not a collector—not under any circumstances could the prisoner have authority to go and collect the money—he had nothing to do with receiving the money from the carmen.
RICHARD PONTEN . I am a clerk in the cashier's office—when money is received for goods not paid for at the time of delivery, it should be paid to Mr. Haygreen—I have never received the sums of 5s. 8d., 17s. 8d., and 2s., mentioned in these documents—I know the prisoner's handwriting—all those three tickets are in his handwriting—not only the signatures, but the whole thing—they are receipts for the money.
HENRY HORNSBY . (Examined by the prisoner). Q. Is it your place to make out the tickets for the items appearing in the collectors' books, that they may appear in your books, the tickets for the items unpaid? A. I am not aware that I ever received any instructions from any one respecting those tickets—it would be your duty to clear them up and trace the entries—itwould not be your duty to obtain payment of them—they should be given to the collectors for collection—I am not aware that it was your duty to give them to the carmen, if you thought proper—I cannot remember that I ever gave you any tickets to give to the carmen for collection.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. Would it, under any circumstances whatever, he his
duty to receive money? A. Under no circumstances whatever—I never knew of his having any authority for doing it.
HENRY KITCHEN . (Examined by the prisoner). I have no recollection of ever receiving any tickets from you for collection—I have no moral doubt upon my mind, still I should not like to swear that I have not received tickets from you.
MR. ROBINSON. Q. You are one of the authorized collectors? A. Yes; the prisoner would not have the least authority to receive monies according to the ordinary course of the office.
COURT to JAMES HENRY DALE. Q. What dates were the monies paid? A. The 30th of July, the 28th of August, and the 3d of September.
Prisoner's Defence. It is very curious I should receive these three amounts within so short a time, and the witness Dale should not recollect my face; I say I did not receive them, and I defy the Company, or any one present, to prove that I did receive either of the amounts in question; I leave it to you to say whether I am guilty from the evidence; Mr. Haygreen has sworn that it was not my duty to make out these tickets, but Mr. Hornsby says it is my duty to make them out; it was always my duty to make out tickets for anything I found standiug in my books, and to give them to any one I thought proper, to collect, whether collector or carman; this is brought upon me from nothing but malice and spite of my brother clerks; I have heard the witness Hornsby say he did not care what he did if he could get money, and I heard him in another instance distinctly say, that he did not care what he did, or words to that effect, he would have me out of the office, for he was prejudiced against me from the first moment I was in the department.
COURT to H. HORNSBY. Q. Have you ever said you would do what you could to get him out of the department? A. I never made use of any such words—I never had any difference—never the slightest.
Prisoner. You know very well you never were on friendly terms with me; you were always trying to pick holes in anything you possibly could.
Witness. That is not so.
COURT to CHARLES HAYGREEN. Q. What was his position? A. He was a weekly servant—if he had to collect, or anything to do with, money, he would have had to find security.
It was stated by Charles Haygreen that the prisoner had made false entries in the pay-sheets, in order to conceal his embezzlement.
Confined Eighteen Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .
OLDFIELD.— Confined Twelve Months.
PLEADED GUILTY — Three Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE PROCTER . I am the proprietor of the Crown and Sceptre Tavern, Brirton-Hill—I know Mrs. Hunter, who lives in the neighbourhood—Jane Haywood and Sarah Ann Oldfield were in her service—they are sisters, and the male prisoner is their brother—he used to come to my house, and his brother also—he came there on Monday, 3d November, and first saw my
niece, Mrs. Crimp, who, in his presence and hearing, handed me a cheque for 10l., and asked me to oblige Mrs. Hunter with change for a 10l. cheque—we had supplied him with a bottle of gin, at 2s. 8d., and I gave him the change for the cheque, less 2s. 8d.—I paid it away, and received it back on the 6th—I then took it to the house, saw Jane Haywood, and gave it to her—about three hours or three hours and a half afterwards, she brought in a 10l. note in the place of the cheque.
MRS. CRIMP. I am the wife of Nicholas Crimp, and niece of Mr. Procter—on 3d November, Haywood presented what appeared to be a 10l. cheque, and asked if Mr. Procter could oblige Mrs. Hunter with change—he at the same time asked for a bottle of gin—I gave the cheque to Mr. Procter, who gave him the change.
JANE HAYWOOD . (The prisoner). The man at the bar is my brother—his wife was formerly in Mrs. Hunter's service, and so were my sister and I at the time we were taken into custody—on 6th November, Mr. Procter came to my mistress's house, and handed me a 10l. cheque—I burnt that cheque, and went to Mr. Procter on the same day and gave him a 10l. note.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. Do you remember giving your brother a cheque, and telling him to get a bottle of gin? A. Yes—I did not tell him it was forged, or where I got it, I only told him to get it changed—he had a watch in pawn at that time, and I offered to lend him the money to release it—two days afterwards he came and gave me the watch—it was his watch—I had given him 2l. 10s. and told him to get it out and bring it to me, and he did so—2l. 10s. was all I gave him.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Had you been in the habit of giving him money? A. No; I gave him this money to get his watch out of pawn two days before this matter occurred—I did not tell him where it came from—I said that it was my own.
COURT. Q. Who wrote the cheque? A. I did—Mr. Procter had never changed a cheque for me before—I don't know whether he had changed cheques for Mrs. Hunter before, but he knew that I had been in the habit of changing cheques for my mistress—my brother once went for change for a cheque for 7l. and Mr. Procter would not give it—I gave my brother that cheque three weeks before.
GEORGE PROCTER (re-examined). I do not remember William Hayward bringing me a 7l. cheque—I did not change a 7l. cheque for him; I did for Jane Hayward—I had changed cheques before of Mrs. Hunter's, which were brought by this girl.
MARY WILSFORD HUNTER . I am a widow, and live at the Paragon, Streatham—I have an account at Roberts' bank—the last cheque I wrote was on 23d October, for 13l. 9s. 1d.—I did not write one on 3d Novermber—I never authorised any person to sign my name to any cheque—I did not tell my servant on that date to go to Mr. Procter, and ask him to oblige me with change for a 10l. cheque and ask for a bottle of gin—there is no foundation for it—I never saw William Hayward or Jane about that date.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you got the cheque-book here? A. Yes (produced)—these cheques have been cut out of the other end of the book.
COURT. Q. How came you to take a cheque signed Mrs. Mary Hunter? A. I knew Jane to be her servant, and if it was not cashed it would be returned to me, and I could take it to Mrs. Hunter.
JOHN SHORTER (Police sergeant, P 18). I took the male prisoner on 12th November, and told him the charge—he was about to make a statement, but I cautioned him, and he said no more—after the charge was read over to him at the station, he said that he would speak the truth; "The cheque in question is not the first cheque my sister has given me to change. About a week previously she gave me a cheque to get change. I went to Mr. Procter to try and get it changed, and I took it back to her. About a week after she gave me another cheque, and told me to take it to Mr. Procter and get it changed, and get a bottle of gin. I did so, and took it back to my sister, and offered her the change. She said that I could keep that for myself, and I did keep it."
Cross-examined. Q. Did you take a note of what he said? A. No—that was all he said—he said, "I offered her the change, and she said I was to keep it, as it was her property."
WILLIAM HAYWARD— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
MR. WHARTON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM MORRISS . I am an iron-founder of 12, St. Mary's-square, Lambeth. On Saturday night, 8th November, about 12 o'clock, I was in the Kennington-road, near the Stag public-house—three men came behind me, struck me under the right ear, and knocked me senseless—they caught hold of my arms, kicked me behind, pulled me backwards, and tried to rob me—I recovered, sang out "Police!" and they ran away—they tried to get my watch when I was on the ground, but I got it in my left hand—I was stunned by the blow for the moment—I was not long on the ground—I ran after one of them, the prisoner, for seventy or eighty yards, keeping my attention fixed upon him; and there were lights—he went into the policeman's hands, and I gave him in charge—the prisoner was coming towards me, from the Stag, and I was going towards the Stag—the prisoner was walking when the prisoner took him—I lost sight of the others—I can feel the kicks now.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Had you been drinking? A. No—I had been with some friends and relations in Stamford-street—I had had, perhaps, a pint of beer, the part of two or two or three pints—I had walked from Stamford-street to Kennington-road—the three men ran off at the same time when I cried "Police," but not in the same direction; two of them turned down a dark street to the right, and I followed the other ahead, towards the Stag—they had all three got away before I got up, but I could see them as I got up—I had recovered my senses then; and as I got up I saw them running away—they had then got about the length of this Court from me—I only saw the others turn the corner of the dark street—the prisoner had got seventy or eighty yards from me, but I could see him by the gas-light—he was about forty or fifty yards from me when I got up by the first lamp-post—I followed that man—he was very near the Stag—there was a coffee-stand by the Stag, and there were several people round.
MR. WHARTON. Q. Was not there a cab-stand also? A. Yes; there is a cab-stand in the Lambeth-road, just at the corner—this happened nearer to London than the Stag, just by the Asylum wall—the run I had was past the wall of the Asylum to the Stag—the other two men ran down a street
to the left—some man came up and said that the prisoner was not the man—I do not know whether he was connected with them.
COURT. Q. Can you say whether you ever lost sight of the prisoner from the time when he was busy about you, till he was taken? A. When I got up I fixed my eye upon him, and kept him in sight, and there was nobody else near me—when I got up I saw three men running away, and nobody else near me—I did not lose sight of them while I was getting up—I had not my eye off them for a moment, I did not lose sight of them till the three separated—I did lose sight of the three just for a moment, while I was getting up, and when I was up I saw three men only, two of whom separated, and the third is the prisoner—I never lost sight of him after I got up and saw the three together—I saw nobody else there.
JURY. Q. Did you see the men before you were struck? A. No.
JOHN BROUGHTON (Policeman, L 74). At half-past 12 o'clock on the Saturday night I met the prisoner in the Kennington-road, running from London—he was between the Stag and the Female Orphan Asylum, the wall of which is 150 or 200 yards long—as soon as he saw me he stopped, and the prosecutor, who was close behind him, was up instantly, and said, "I give this man in charge for knocking me down with two more"—the prisoner said that it was not him that did it, and he would be d—d if he would go with me—he tried to take his coat off to get away, but I prevented him, and took him to the station—I apprehended him about four yards from the Stag—there is a little dark street close to the Stag, and near the Orphan Asylum—it was rather dark down the street, but there was a lamp at the corner.
Cross-examined. Q. Are there several streets turning off there? A. No; only one between the Asylum wall and the Stag; that is about twenty yards from the Stag—I was twenty or thirty yards from the Stag when I saw him first—the prosecutor got up instantly—as I got to the prisoner I saw them both together—it was only a moment from the time I saw the prisoner till I took him—he stopped three or four yards from the Stag—I did not see anybody else by, only the people round the Stag—I did not go down the dark street—the people there did not call out something.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—"I got up to the Stag, and the prosecutor called, "Police!" I was not running, I was walking. He said, 'Take him, Several gentlemen then said that I was not the man."
COURT to WILLIAM MORRISS. Q. If I understand you rightly, the dark street down which the two men turned was between you and the Stag? A. Yes; just at the corner—I overtook the prisoner—I had then passed the end of the dark street—the prisoner was rather more than three or four yards from the Stag when he was stopped—I saw him after I got on my legs, and before he had passed the end of the dark street—I saw him when the others turned down the dark street—I told the learned Counsel he was fifty yards off, but I may be mistaken in the distance—the prisoner was ahead of the others, but they were all together when I got up—the street is much nearer to where I was robbed than the Stag.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Byles.
MESSRS. RIBTON and DICKIE conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH SAVAGE . The deceased, Mrs. Day, was my daughter—she was thirty-three years of age—she was married to the prisoner; it would have been three years come Christmas—they lived together two years and nine months—for five or six weeks they were lodging at Rochester-row, Westminster—I was living in Tower-street—my daughter was with me there for five weeks; she left the prisoner and came to reside with me, but he was continually coming to my house to annoy us—the day before she left Rochester-row, I was there—the prisoner was aware that she was about to leave—he swore, with heavy threats, that he would murder her if he found her there on the Friday—he said if the things were not removed he would take the hatchet and break them all up to bits—"So," he said, "you had better take them away"—when he came home to tea he began quarrelling over the tea-table, and he quarrelled very much indeed with her, so much that I made her leave the room—I then went into the room, and he began to talk to me about my daughter's leaving him; and he swore bitterly to me, that if she was not out of the house on Friday, he would take her b—life away, and break up everything in the place—I said, "Harry, these are horrid words for a mother to hear; do you really mean Annie to leave you? let us do it quietly; don't take her life; spare her for me, as I am getting old"—he said, "No, I won't stain my hands with the b—b—; she may go; and let some other b—man have a tying up with her, as I have had"—he said he meant her to leave him; he was quite tired of her—I then said to him, "Harry, you had better write out on a piece of paper what she is to take," meaning the goods; and I asked him if there was anything he chose to have left, to say so, and not, when we were gone, to say that we had robbed him—he then said what was to be left, and what was to be taken—I said, "I had rather Mr. Parcel, the landlord, came up as a witness;" and Mr. Parcel came up, and heard what the prisoner had to say; and it was finally settled that Annie was to go away on the Friday—I went there on the Friday—I did not see the prisoner there that day—my daughter left on the Friday, and came home with me, and the things that had been named the day before were removed—that was about five weeks before this transaction—during that five weeks the prisoner came several times to my house—he came on a Sunday morning, when I was preparing the dinner in the shop, sat himself down, and asked if I had got any beer—I said I had a little in a bottle—he then stayed and dined with us, and remained all night, and he slept there the whole of that week till the Friday, when I wished Annie to go back and live with him again: I thought it would, perhaps, be as well if she gave him another trial; and she went, poor thing, with great reluctance—she remained with him from the Saturday night till the Friday following—I did not go to the house to Rochester-row that week, while she was there—she returned to me once more on the Friday—the prisoner came to the house on the Monday after, I think, and annoyed us very much, and broke a looking-glass in front of the house—he abused my daughter very much, and caused a great mob round the door, so much so that I was very much alarmed, and at last the policeman, Mr. Cook, came along and got him away from the door—the prisoner came several times: one night he came and broke the hasp off the door, and burst right in, and said he would come in—I sent for a policeman then and got him away—the policeman wanted me to give him in charge, but I did not, though I ought to have done so—I was not at home on Thursday, 18th September, when this happened—I returned home about a
quarter to 8 that day—my daughter was then in bed—the died at a quarter-past 3 next day, Friday.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Who was present at her death? A. Mr. Cook was present; no, not at her death, I forgot; there was no one there but me—I am quite sure Cook was not present at her death—he was there some little time before; something like half an hour; he called to ask me how she was—he did see her—I wished him to come into the room to see her—I cannot tell you when I first mentioned to any one the bad language which the prisoner applied to my daughter—I was at the Police-court, and before the Coroner, but was not examined—I first mentioned the language, when I gave evidence at the inquest—I was examined at the inquest, but I did not speak a word at the Police-court—I ought to have an attorney in this case—I forget his name—I have employed an attorney; he ought to be here—I quite forget the man's name—Mr. Cook did not recommend him to me; no one did—he is a very elderly gentleman; he has an office in the next street—I am quite sure Mr. Cook did not recommend him; the man came and solicited me to speak to him in this Court—I had never known him before—I did not know Cook before this sad event—he has taken tea with me, but never until he came and drove the boys and men from the door—I never saw him till then—I never saw him till the night the looking-glass was broken; that was five weeks before my daughter's death—I knew him five weeks altogether—he has been to tea with us once or twice, not oftener—I knew him to be a policeman—he has not been there at other times besides coming to tea; he has been, but very little; policemen have not much time—he used not to come almost every day—he might have called three or four times a week, and that was as much as it was—he came to see us both, I expect; I was always present—I was not at home on this unfortunate day—nothing had been said about Cook by the prisoner, that I am aware of—he had spoken about this Cook coming: he said he had heard that she had got some one to come and see her; and I said, "What nonsense; no such thing; it is false"—he said it was a policeman—I afterwards told him there was a young man, a policeman, that had called; in fact, I believe she told him herself—I told him that on the Tuesday morning before this affair happened on the Thursday—he came to my house and brought some little washing to be done, and left it—it was some stockings—he never got them again; they are at home now—I said, "Well, Harry, I will get them washed for you;" and he then went away—he asked me several questions about this young man—that was at the time of his bringing the stockings.
Q. When was it you said to him, "Oh! nonsense; it is no such thing?" A. On the Tuesday morning—that was the last morning I saw him—I did tell him that there was a young man who came; I said, "Well, I have heard something about it, but I don't take any notice about it," because I did not at all think that my daughter would have anything to say to a policeman, any way; she did not wish to do it—he merely called as a friend.
JOHN MARK COOK . I am not a police constable now—I am at present lodging in Mount-gardens, Mount-street, Westminster-road—I live in the country—on 18th September, between 3 and 4 in the afternoon, I was at 75, Tower-street, Westminster—I don't know whether it was Thursday or Friday—it was at the premises occupied by Mrs. Savage—Mrs. Savage was there when I first went, and Sarah Ann Day, her daughter—the prisoner came in while I was there—he stood on the threshold of the parlour-door
when he came in, and remained there—he had a hammer, chisel, and screw-driver in his right hand—the deceased was supporting herself on the side of the bed, in the parlour—I was sitting in a chair at the other end of the room, by the side of the fire-place—the deceased said, "Hallo, Harry, what do you want here?"—I cannot state what answer the prisoner made; there was some more passed—I asked the prisoner, shortly after his being there, if he had any claim on the deceased—he answered, "No"—I then said, "Why do you come here annoying her in the way you do?"—he made no reply—he asked the deceased whether she was willing to come back to him again or not—she answered, "No, King, you never acted as a man to me, and not all your persuasion shall induce me to go back to you again"—with that the prisoner made use of some expression, but in too low a tone for me to hear what it was, and he struck the deceased in the abdomen with the chisel and screw-driver—during the conversation the hammer was passed from his right hand into his left, some two or three minutes before he struck the blow; the chisel and screw-driver were retained in the right hand—the deceased then gave a fearful shriek, and cried, "Murder" several times—I immediately sprang on the prisoner, so as to prevent a repetition of the offence—we had a struggle together, which extended to the shop door; I then let him go, and he went away—almost directly he was gone, the deceased called me and told me she was stabbed—I immediately went in pursuit of the prisoner, and took him into custody at the Engineer's Arms, in the Westminster-road—I said, "I arrest you for stabbing Sarah Ann Day; I am a police constable"—he said, "I did not strike her"—I took him to the station—when the charge was read over to him, he said, "She is my wife"—I said, "She is not your wife; you have got no claim upon her"—he made some further remark, that he knew all about it, for I had taken her away from him, or words to that effect.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you not in the police now? A. Not now—I am following no occupation at present—I was first suspended by the Commissioners on 29th September, and then called on to resign on 6th November—I had known the deceased about five weeks previous to this occurrence—I became acquainted with her at a time of some disturbance at that very house—I did not then know that the prisoner claimed to be her husband; I never heard him say so; I did not know it from the mother—she never spoke to me on the subject—I believe she had been married, but the marriage was not legally good—I was told by herself that she had been married to the prisoner, but that, through a process of bigamy, there was no claim existing—I was in the habit of visiting her after the disturbance, when I became acquainted with her, about two or three times a week—I dined there once or twice; once I am positive of, on a Sunday—I have had tea there occasionally—when the prisoner came in on this occasion, she was leaning on the bed, with her back to the bed, watching the shop door; not with her back on the bed; she was supporting herself with her hands on the side of the bed—the shop door was not closed; anyone could walk into the shop, and then into the room; there is a door from the shop into the room, and that was open—it is a clothes or wardrobe shop—there were a quantity of clothes hanging up at the window, and at the door too—she was leaning on the bed in a position from which she could see if any customers came in—they had goods at the shop door, and, I believe, her motive was to see that nothing was stolen from the shop door—I was about four feet from her—Mrs. Savage might have been gone out an hour, or an hour and a half; I can't state exactly the time; somewhere about that time—I had been
alone in the room with the deceased the whole of that time; I had had tea there—nothing was said about stockings—I don't remember all that passed, but I know there was nothing said relating to stockings; the conversation related to affairs that took place before and after their marriage—I was not close behind her when he struck her this blow—I was facing the prisoner at the time; sitting on a chair in a line with him—he did not make the blow at me, nor did she come forward and interpose herself; there was the whole length of the room between me and the prisoner—the room might be about twelve or thirteen feet in length—he did not, in consequence of something that was said, make a rush at me, nor did she interpose herself between us—I had no notion at the time that she had been stabbed—I shoved him out of the shop—he did not ask for his hat, that I recollect; I did not give it him; I can't say whether he asked for it—when I found that she had been stabbed I followed him out, and found him at a beershop—he had just called for some beer—when I charged him with stabbing her, he said, "I did not strike her."
MR. RIBTON. Q. At the time the deceased made use of the expression, "You have never acted as a man to me," how far was the prisoner standing from her? A. Just the distance of the door; the width of the door; the door was thrown back; the deceased's elbow must have touched the door—he was about three feet from her during the whole time that this conversation took place between them—the hammer was moved from the right hand to the left, about two minutes before he made use of the expression which I did not hear—from the time of his making that remark to his striking her, it might have been between two and three minutes—I heard everything that took place; but the excitement of the moment, after I knew the young woman had been stabbed, drove a good deal of it from my mind—the blow was struck directly the expression was used—I don't remember the expression, it was in too low a tone for me to hear.
GEORGE PIKE (Policeman, L 95). On Thursday, 18th September, I was sent to 75, Tower-street, by the acting inspector—I got there a few minutes before 6—I found the deceased on the floor in the back parlour, in a sitting position, as if in a fainting state—I saw some blood when she pulled her dress on one side—they told me they had sent for a doctor—the doctor came in while I was there—I found this chisel on the foot of the bed with the clothes covered over it—this screwdriver and hammer were lying on the counter; I saw them as I went in.
ANN JONES . I am the wife of Richard Westcot Jones, of 74, Tower-street—on Thursday, 18th September, I was sitting at my window at needle-work—my attention was attracted by a lot of boys round the door of No. 75, and there was a very great row—I went next door to 75, and saw Mr. Cook push Mr. King out of the parlour door into the shop—I saw the deceased, and heard her say that Mr. King had hit her in the stomach—I could not say that the policeman heard that—she said she was very much hurt in the stomach, and was in such dreadful pain—I asked her to let me look—she refused, she said she did not like to—she stood at the foot of the bed—she said, "Oh dear, I can't bear myself"—I said, "You had better let me look"—she laid down on the bed and I looked, and found a wound in her stomach and one on her hip—when I first saw her she was at the parlour door, with Mr. King's hat in her hand—I undressed her and put her to bed—I saw her again about ten minutes before she died, and I saw her after she was dead—about five weeks before this there was a great row with them, and Mr. King asked for his looking-glass—I don't know who gave it to him,
but I saw him strike it down on the pavement, and it broke all to pieces—they had very high words, and he said, "You b—b—, I will be the b—death of you; if I don't have you, no one else shall."
Cross-examined. Q. How was the deceased dressed? A. She had on a light muslin dress, and a black Garibaldi jacket, and a watch and chain at her side; a flannel petticoat, and two black petticoats to the best of my knowledge—I know Cook by sight, not in any other way—I have had no communication with him—I never spoke to him above twice in my life, and that was the night the murder was done—I have not seen him since, no more than coming backwards and forwards here.
Q. When you spoke of this matter first, did not you say you kicked the chisel with your foot? A. Yes, I did; it was on a small bit of carpet lying by the side of the bed—I don't know how it came on the bed—I never saw it on the bed.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You saw it on the floor? A. Yes; and kicked it with my right foot—it was between the bedstead and the door—the policeman came in after me; I am certain of that.
THOMAS MALCOLMSON DONOHUE . I am a surgeon in the Westminster-road—I knew the deceased Sarah Ann Day—I attended her two or three years back—on 18th September. I was called in to see her, about 6 o'clock—she was apparently about thirty-three years of age—I found her on the bed partly undressed—I examined her—I found a longitudinal wound in the abdomen—there were two wounds, the first appeared to be made with a screwdriver, and the second was over the hip (pointing out their positions),—one was longitudinal, and the other transverse, in a line with the body, that was the one in front—the wound in front was about an inch from the navel, and a little below it—that penetrated the abdominal cavity, dividing the mesenteric vessels—I can't speak with any certainty as to the depth of that wound, the parts beneath being yielding—the other wound was over the hip, as if it was done in that direction (describing it)—I cannot speak with any certainty as regards the depth of that wound—the first wound was such as would be inflicted with a blunter instrument than a chisel, and the second, the one the hip, was evidently done with a sharp instrument like a chisel—the clothes were cut likewise, corresponding with the wounds, in both instances—there must have been some force used in the infliction of the wounds—she died the next day about 3 o'clock, or a little after—by direction of the Coroner, I made a post-mortem examination, and found the cause of death to be internal hemorrhage—that was caused by the wounds, there is no doubt of it.
Cross-examined. Q. What was the distance between the two wounds? A. Something about five inches.
COURT. Q. Was she a healthy young woman? A. Yes; there was a little adhesion about the right lung, old pleurisy—she was otherwise in good health—she seemed a healthy person—she was a good-looking person.
The prisoners statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows:—
"There was a great deal more passed than P. C. Cook has mentioned; I called for a pair of stockings, and I positively swear I had no intention of doing her any harm, neither did I know that I had done so when they turned me out of the house."
COURT to ANN JONES. Q. Had the deceased stays on? A. No; she had not—the wounds went through, I think, two black petticoats, a flannel petticoat, a chemise, a pair of drawers, and her dress—she had on a light muslin dress with three flounces—I can't say what the two petticoats were made of, I think they were merino; but I did not take much notice, I was
very much frightened at the time—some of the clothes are here (they were produced by the policeman).
The prisoner received an excellent character from eight witnesses.
COURT to J. M. COOK. Q. You say that there was the whole length of the room between you and the prisoner? A. Yes; twelve or thirteen feet—that was so up to the time that he struck the blow—I was looking sideways to the deceased, and full in the prisoner's face—I was not rather behind her, at her side, about four feet from her, sitting in a chair by the side of the fireplace—I was sitting there up to the time the blow was struck—I have not been in Court the whole time since I was examined—I heard the counsel's address—(a person here stated that the room in question was but seven feet length; he was called forward by the Court).
WILLIAH DUNKLEY . I am landlord of the house, 75, Tower-street—the room in question is but seven feet long, and the space between the bedstead and the partition is about seven feet by three or four—as the witness described it as thirteen or fourteen feet, I thought it right to state this—the width of the room would be about six feet, or from that to seven—it is a square room, but the distance between the bedstead and the partition where the circumstance took place, would only be about three feet six—the room is about seven feet square; it may be a little shorter one way than the other—I was married in that same house, and have known that room for twenty-five years—I know the length and width of it, even by the tread of the foot—I have not actually measured it; but I am confident that is about the size.
COURT to J. M. COOK. Q. In what room were you? A. In the parlour, the room this gentleman has been speaking of—it was used as a bed-room and sitting room—the deceased was in the same room when the blow was struck, and the prisoner was in the same room.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY COOKE . I live at 1, Thoresby-place, Battersea-fields, and keep a grocer's shop there—I have known the prisoner nearly two years—he is married and so am I—we were living in the same house up to the Saturday night previous to the Monday that he shot me—he left Thoresby-place on the Saturday night, 6th September—we had had an altercation on the night previous, the Friday—from something my wife had said to me, I asked him the reason he had told my wife that he heard me kiss his wife in my shop—he stated that he was sitting in the back parlour and that he was under the impression that he had heard me kiss her—I told him it was untrue, that there was no possible ground or reason why he should have made that accusation, and that he would have to leave my house—we had an altercation through this—I can't exactly state what passed—the result of it was that he ordered his wife to bed in a very peremptory manner—she declined to do so until the question was finally settled—he then seized her by the neck and assaulted her, and she appealed to me for protection—I parted them, and pushed him into the passage—I said, "We have been good friends so long, we will not have any bother, go to bed, and to-morrow leave the house"—he, his wife, and family left the next evening—I saw no more of him till the Monday night at 10 o'clock—I came home within a few
minutes of 10, took my hat off, and began to close my shop—I had got one shutter up, when the prisoner came up to me—he came from the fields opposite my house—his brother and his brother's wife were with him—he said, "Well, Sir"—he had his hand in his left breast pocket, and stood with his other hand behind him—I answered him, "Well, Sir"—he said, "What have you done with my wife?"—I said, "I have a wife of my own to look after, without troubling after yours; you must be foolish to ask such a question"—nothing more passed until I had closed the shutters—I then went to the shop door—my wife was immediately behind me—I addressed a remark to his brother about the state of the weather; that it was a fine night, and immediately after I heard the prisoner say, "There"—he was within two paces of me when I heard him say that; within two yards—I immediately turned round facing him, and then felt the charge enter my right side—I heard the report simultaneously; in fact, I think, I heard the report after I felt the charge—I exclaimed to my wife, "He has shot me," and I then went inside the shop-door; what happened afterwards I do not remember, I became faint from loss of blood.
Cross-examined by MR. LANGFORD. Q. I think you had been friends with him during the whole of the two years you had known him? A. Yes; we had had no words—I can't say whether he presented the pistol at me—I did not see it until after it was fired—I am not well now; I am anything but well; I shall never be the same again that I was before.
JOHN SOUL . I am a coppersmith at 3, Chapel-place, North-street, Battersea—on the night this transaction happened, from half-past 9 to 10 o'clock, I was sitting outside the Prince of Wales public-house, next door to Mr. Cooke's—whilst sitting there I saw the prisoner, his brother, and his brother's wife, walking to and fro for about half an hour—about 10 o'clock I saw Mr. Cooke come up—he was in the act of putting up his shutters, and I saw the prisoner deliberately pull a pistol from his breast, and fire it at Mr. Cooke's side—I was not near enough to hear anything that was said—I saw Mr. Cooke walk a little way, and he became exhausted—the prisoner went into the Prince of Wales.
Cross-examined. Q. How far were you off? A. About four yards—I did not speak to the prisoner at all while he was walking backwards and forwards—they were all three muttering to themselves, but I did not hear what they said—the prisoner's back was towards me—he drew the pistol from his breast, and deliberately fired at Mr. Cooke's side—his back was towards the road—he had left off walking up and down at that time—there was a light; Mr. Cooke's door was wide open, and the gas shone—the shutters were up—the light from the Prince of Wales showed a light—I first made use of the word "deliberately" when I went to the police-court.
COURT. Q. How far was the prisoner from Mr. Cooke when the pistol was fired? A. About three yards, nine feet, reckoning from the end of his hand—I saw him deliberately fire the pistol at Mr. Cooke's side—I have always said that he fired it at Mr. Cooke's side; towards his side, or at his side; that is what I mean.
WILLIAM AUSTEN . I am landlord of the Prince of Wales—on the Monday night that this happened the prisoner came into my house about 10 o'clock, or a few minutes past—he took out this pistol—I am not quite sure whether he took it out or whether he had it in his hand—he showed it me over the counter, and said, "This is what we poison" or kill "the rats with; I have done for him"—I don't quite know the words he used, but it was something of that sort—I had heard the report of the pistol not more than
a minute or two before—I went and assisted Mr. Cooke into his house, and went for the surgeon.
WILLIAM FAY . I am a baker in Thoresby-place—on the night this happened I saw the prisoner before Mr. Cooke's house from about half-past 9 up to 10 o'clock—he and his brother and wife were walking up and down together—he asked me if Mr. Cooke was at home—I told him I had seen him go out in the morning, about 11 o'clock—nothing more passed—soon after that I heard the report of a pistol—I did not see the shot fired—I saw Mr. Cooke afterwards.
JAMES WRIGHT (Policeman, V 294). On the Monday night this happened I was near Mr. Cooke's house—Soul came to me after the shot was fired—I went into the Prince of Wales and asked, "Is the man here who has shot another man?"—the prisoner got up, and his brother and his wife altogether, and the prisoner said, "It is me"—Edward Kilsby, the prisoner's brother, said, "Yes," and presented this pistol (produced)—on going to the station I remarked to the prisoner that it was a fine night for the harvest makers to work all night—he said, "Yes, he won't work all night"—I searched him at the station, and found five percussion caps, a portion of a pocket-book, and several pieces of paper.
HENRY STIRLING (Policeman, V 289). I saw the prisoner in the custody of Wright, going to the station—I asked him what was the matter—he said, "There is a man shot, you had better go over"—I went over to the prosecutor's house, and there saw Mr. Cooke—I afterwards went to the prisoner's house—I know it was his house from information I received, and by making inquiries—the prisoner did not tell me where he lived—I saw his son there—I do not know it was his house except from what I was told—I examined Mr. Cooke's clothes—I have his waistcoat here—there are ten holes in it—likewise his shirt and flannel-shirt; there are ten holes also in each, of these.
WILLIAM HENRY KEMPSTER . I am a surgeon—I was called in on this night to see Mr. Cooke—I found him lying on a bed, faint, and exhausted—on removing the clothes I found a bloody patch—I ripped up his shirt, and found his flannel-shirt saturated, and found ten holes on the right side—I probed each of them, but could discover nothing at the bottom, owing to the fact that he would probably be in a different position at the time he received the wound to what he was at the time I examined him, and the holes would not correspond, the parts are so moveable under the intercostal muscles—I did not find any shot—that is quite consistent with the fact that he might have received the wounds from a pistol loaded with shot—the shot were evidently internal from the symptoms that occurred—they are there still—I have not been able to extract them—he has recovered for the present, but the lower part of the lung is permanently destroyed, consolidated—I do not hope to be able to extricate the shot—for the present, probably he may not be likely to suffer much; many cases have been known in which foreign bodies have been in the lungs, and the patient has recovered at the time, and then traumatic phthisis has come on.
COURT. Q. Do you fear that it is a permanent injury? A. Certainly.
MR. LANGFORD to MR. COOKE. Q. Where did the prisoner's brother live? A. I don't know—I was on good terms with the brother—I was on friendly terms-with both—from the position in which the brother put himself and his wife, I believe that he knew the prisoner was going to fire the pistol; I am quite satisfied of it—I had never seen the pistol before—it was in my house, but I never saw it—it was an old one—I knew that he had a pistol
from his saying so, but I never saw it—I was just as friendly with him as I was with my own brother.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY on Second Count.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ROWDEN conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY of concealing the birth.— Confined Three Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES POWELL . I am in the service of Mr. De Gruser, a fruiterer, at Walworth—on 31st October, at a little past 4 in the afternoon, the prisoner came and purchased some almonds and apples—she gave me 1s.—I gave her 8 1/2 d. change, and gave the 1s. to my mistress, who was in the parlour.
MR. DEGRUSSA. I am a fruiterer, of Walworth—on 31st October the prisoner came, and I served her with 2d. worth of apples, and half a pint of almonds, which came to 5 1/2 d.—she gave me 1s.—I saw that it was bad before I took it—I said "This is the second bad shilling this evening, and I believe you know something about it"—she said, "I know nothing about it; I have only 2d.; will you let me go and fetch some more money to pay for the things?"—I said, "Yes," and she went away for half an hour, and came back and paid my husband—I said to my husband, "I do not like to let this pass over; I do believe it is the woman who was here at tea"—he said, "Yes, it is the same woman that gave the boy the bad shilling"—Pring then came in, and asked me if the woman was passing bad money—I said, "Yes"—he said, "I can swear to her; she has been into my shop several times"—my husband then gave her in custody, with the two shillings.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Do you know where she lived? A. She gave me a false name and address—I did not know where she lived when she went away to get the money.
DAVID PRING . I was shopman to Benjamin Nicholson, a cheesemonger, of 20, Crosby-row, Walworth—on 28th June this year the prisoner came for a quarter of a pound of fourteen-penny butter, and gave me 1s.—I said, "I have not enough change"—I knew it was bad, and was looking out for them—I said, "I will give you the change directly"—she said, "All right"—I served another customer or two, and they paid me—I looked at the prisoner well, gave her her change, I whistled to the governor, and she went out—I kept the shilling, and afterwards, as I was passing the prosecutor's shop, I saw the prisoner there with a policeman, and went in and identified her—I gave the shilling to the policeman at the station.
Cross-examined. Q. You expected that as she succeeded in passing a bad shilling she would come back and utter another? A. Yes—I prosecuted a man before, but he got off, because there was only one coin—I risked a shilling for the purposes of patriotism, I was determined I would try to catch the next—I knew the prisoner by sight, she was in the habit of coming there for cheese and butter—I never saw her again from June to that night—she heard my whistle to the governor—I hope I have caught her now.
was given into my custody—she said that she had not been in the shop before, and did not know anything about the shilling—she gave her address, "Mary Ann Thompson, 29, Brannan-street, and afterwards 9, Brannan-street," I went to those places—they were false addresses—I received two shillings from Mr. De Gruser, and one shilling from Pring.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was here read as follows: "If I had known it was a bad shilling, I should not have gone there with the money to pay for the things. I was never in the shop that day till I bought the things in the evening; the boy served me, and I gave him the shilling. He took it to his mistress, who came out at the door. I did not say anything to Mr. De Gruser at all. The boy said first that he took the shilling from a fat-faced woman that I was in company with.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS ELIZABETH BORKS . I am assistant to Miss Ferris, my cousin, of 115, Portland-street, Walworth—on 10th November, about 8 o'clock at night, the prisoner came for a penny candle and a box of lucifers—he gave me a shilling—I tried it in the detector, and found it was bad—he said, "I will go and fetch another one"—Miss Ferris came in, and bent it very much in the detector, so that it could not pass—the prisoner took it up, and went out, and Miss Ferris and Mrs. Anderson, my cousins, followed him.
MARY ANN ANDERSON . I am the wife of Frederick Anderson—on Saturday evening, 5th November, I was at Miss Ferris's shop, about 8 o'clock, and saw the prisoner there—I saw a shilling in Mr. Anderson's hand, and saw it bent—it appeared bad—the prisoner took it, and left the shop—I followed him to the bottom of the street—he joined two young lads, and threw something over the houses, but I cannot say what, as it was dark—one of them then gave him something, and they went two or three hundred yards together—the prisoner then went into Mr. McClaren's shop, 2, St. Peter's place—I followed him in, stood behind him, and saw a shilling in Mrs. McClaren's hand—I told her to look at it, she did so, and said that it was bad—the prisoner was in the act of turning to run out, but I caught hold of him, and told him he had passed a bad one in my shop, and should not escape—he was given in custody—he called me a liar, and struggled very hard to get away, but I would not let him—I saw the shilling in Mrs. McClaren's hand; it was quite straight, and could not be the one passed at our shop.
JULIA MCCLAREN . My husband lives at St. Peter's-place, Walworth—on 15th November, the prisoner came there for half an ounce of tobacco—I served him—he put down a shilling, and, before I had given him change, Miss Ferris and Mrs. Anderson came in, and told me to try it—I did so, and it bent very easily—I told the prisoner it was bad, and Mrs. Anderson took hold of him and held him—the father, who is a very aged man, went for a policeman, and the prisoner was given in charge.
Prisoner's Defence. I had no work that week. I went to the market to buy some greens, and took the shilling in change for a sovereign. The lady
said it was bad, and I said, "I will get you another" I then went to get some tobaoco, and paid with another shilling, and that was bad too.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
101. FRANCIS HORN (21), JOHN SIMPSON (30), HENRY AUSTIN (32), and CHARLES KEMBELL (29) , Stealing a gold chain and other articles, value 5l., the property of James White, in his dwelling-house. Second Count, feloniously receiving the same.
MESSRS. CLERK and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
MARIA WHITE . I am the wife of James White, and live at Pearsfield-lodge, Lordship-road, Dulwich, in the parish of Camberwell—on Friday, 10th October, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I went into my bedroom, on the first-floor, and missed some brooches and other things—the dressing-case had been opened, and all the things taken out, and some, which were of no value, thrown on the floor—I had seen them safe about an hour before, between 12 and 1—I did not leave my bedroom till between 11 and 12, and I was reading that morning with a gold glass, which was one of the articles stolen—it was attached to a hair chain—I left the window open—it was a dressing-room window, adjoining the bedroom—it opens on to a verandah, which goes round the front and sides of the house—the verandah has a sloping roof, a very low one—there was a little mark on the toilet dressing-table, but very little—it was a very fine, dry day—there was a small gold chain taken—I have seen that since at the pawnbroker's—I have not seen the brooches since—we have not recovered anything but the gold chain—I missed five brooches.
REBECCA WILLIAMS . I am servant to Mrs. White—on Friday, 10th October, about 1 o'clock in the day, I was at the door of the house, and saw the prisoner Kembell sitting in a chaise by the private door—I looked at him; he saw me, and deliberately drove off to the next house—he turned the horse round in the direction of coming back, but he did not come back while I was standing outside the door—I identified the chaise and the horse at Lambeth police-court—it was the same as he was sitting in—he was the only one of the prisoners that I saw.
Cross-examined by MR. COOPER (for Kembell). Q. You had never seen him before that, had you? A. No; never—the chaise was about ten yards from our house, I should think—he had a hat on—I had a very good look at him as he passed—he looked at me.
JAMES SAWYER . I am gardener to Mr. White—on 10th October, about 1 o'clock in the day, I saw Kembell with a horse and chaise in the road—I was in the garden—I could see over the palings—while I was standing there I heard the gate shut—I looked up, and saw a man go from the gate and get into the chaise—he came from the door of the garden—it was Austin—he was about fourteen yards off—I know Mrs. White's bedroom—there is a verandah runs round the house—I don't know whether you can get from the garden on to the verandah: I have never tried: not without breaking it, I should think—I saw some footmarks just at the bottom of the verandah—I next saw the horse and chaise that Kembell was in, at the Lambeth police-court, about a week after the prisoners were taken into custody.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen either of these men before? A. No—I looked at them casually, nothing more.
COURT. Q. Are you sure these are the men? A. Yes.
WILLIAM JOHNSON . I assist my uncle, Charles Johnson, a pawnbroker, at 25, Providence-row, Finsbury—I produce a gold chain, pawned at my uncle's house on 10th October for 15s.—it was pawned by the prisoner Simpson, in the name of Henry Seymour—I have got the duplicate ticket—it is a duplicate of the ticket that I gave him when he pawned the chain—I have both the tickets—it was afterwards applied for, aad we stopped it.
JAMES GROUT . I am an easy chair maker—I know Horn by having my meals with him at a coffee-shop—on Saturday night, 11th October, I saw him at the coffee-shop—he was offering two tickets for sale, for a gold watch and a gold chain, and I told him I thought my Missus wanted a gold watch, and I would get him a customer—I saw the tickets on the 12th—I bought the two tickets of him, the one for the watch and the one for the chain, and gave him 7s. for the two—I afterwards sold the ticket of the watch to a person named Spital, and the ticket for the chain I gave to Spital's father-in-law, that he might go and look at the chain—I did not go with him to the pawnbroker's—we heard that the watch was wrong, and we went to look after the chain—we told the detective not to take it out—this is the ticket for the chain (produced).
Horn. Q. Did not I say that I bought these two tickets of Mr. Yates? A. Yes; you said that you gave 5s. for them—I asked you particularly whether they were right, and you said yes, you knew they were all right.
Horn. When I bought them of Mr. Yates I asked him if they were right, and he said, "Yes." I told him I was going to sell them to a young chap, whose master would be sure to get them out on Monday morning.
JOHN LEONARD (City police-constable). I took Kembell into custody on Wednesday, 5th November, at a livery stable in the Kingsland-road, on another charge—from inquiries I made, I found a horse and gig at the police-station at Greenwich—I searched Kembell, and found on him a screw-driver, a wax taper, and some silent matches—in going along towards Moor-lane police-station, he threw a life-preserver out of the cab—this is it (produced)—I asked him, the next day, why he carried such an unlawful weapon as that in his possession—he said he did not intend it for me or my brother-officer, but he intended it for Le Vite, who is a sergeant in the N division, or for a man who goes by the name of "Curly Jack," if they had other of them tried to take him into custody—I believe "Curly Jack" is one of the police-officers, but I don't know.
Cross-examined. Q. He showed no animosity to you at all? A. No—he did not tell me that those other men were always hunting him—he said while he was out the other men were obliged to stand still—as far as I could understand that, he meant men in the same class of business as himself; that he was more clever than they were, and they could do nothing without him—he did not say that although he tried to be respectable they would not let him.
JOHN BOND (Police-inspector, P). I went to Mr. White's house two or three days after the robbery; I cannot say exactly—I went into the dressing-room adjoining the bedroom, and on the inside of the window I found the marks of a hand, where some one had made the impression by going in or coming out—that window opened out on to the verandah.
COURT. Q. Did it look at it the hand had been clasped? A. Yes—I did not see any marks outside.
JOHN SKINNER (Policeman, R 196). On the afternoon of 17th October, I apprehended Austin about twenty-five minutes past 3, at the corner of Lee Park, in the parish of Lee, in Kent—I saw a horse and gig standing at the entrance of the park; there was a gate there—it could not go in—I saw Austin come along Lee-terrace—he turned his right eye at me, and turned round—I watched him down the terrace, and he went to Mr. Seager's house, and asked for the name of Seager—he then came back to where the gig was, and threw this coat into the gig—I then spoke to him, and asked him if that was his gig—he said, "Why, no, a gentleman asked me to mind it"—I said, "The gentleman has left it in charge of a roadsman here, and given him twopence to mind it"—I then said, "Who is this gentleman who asked you to mind it?"—he said he did not know who the gentleman was, but he had been into a public-house and had a glass of ale, and a friend called in, and had a glass of stout, and when he came out from there, a gentleman asked him to mind his horse and chaise"—I said to him, "What made you leave the horse and chaise here, if a gentleman asked you to mind it"—he said, "Because I wanted to take a walk round—I then took him into custody, and charged him with loitering round Lee-terrace—I also took charged of the horse and gig, and told another constable to bring them down to the station—they were taken first to Greenwich, and then to Lambeth, and shown to Miss Williams, the gardener, and Mrs. White, yard.
WILLIAM NEGUS . I am ostler to Mr. Staplin, a livery stable-keeper, in Broad-street-mews, City—I know Kembell by sight; he first hired a horse and chaise at my master's yard, on 7th October—he had it for ten days running, except Sunday—he had a horse and chaise on 10th October—he did not always have the same horse, but always the same chaise—we used to have it ready for him—he would tell us one day that he was coming the next—the first day he came he gave me his card—I swept that out of the place—I have seen another like it since—this one (produced) is similar to the one he gave me (Read:"J. Yates, strong and light boot and shoe maker, 24, Wheeler-street, Spitalfields, next to the Ship, late of 86, Wheeler-street. Repairing neatly executed."—I supplied Kembell with a horse and gig on 17th October, which was not brought back on that day.
Cross-examined. Q. Had he the horse and gig for all day? A. Soon after 12 in the day—he came back before 6, or it might be about 6.
JAMES CALVER . I am foreman to Mr. Staplin, the livery stable-keeper—I supplied Kembell with a horse and gig on the 13th, 14th, 15th, and 16th October—I did not supply him on 17th; my man did—it was not brought back on 17th—I saw it some days afterwards in the custody of the police at Greenwich—that was my master's horse and gig—I gave some information to the police, and went to a stable in the Kingsland-road, on 5th November, about five minutes past 1—the prisoner Kembell came in there, and I told the two detectives that he was the man who had had the horse and chaise from my master.
RICHARD KENWOOD (Policeman, H 194). On 13th October, I took Horn into custody in Paul-street—he came out of a workshop into the street—I asked him if he had not sold a ticket and watch to Grout, who was in my company at the time—he said, "I did, I sold it to him for 7s., which I gave 5s. for it myself"—he said he bought it from a man on the Saturday night, at a beershop in Willow-walk—I asked if he knew the man—he said he did not—I asked him if he knew his name and where he lived—he said he did not, it was of a man who had got a long black beard and moustache (the prisoner Simpson answered that description)
—I took him towards the station—on the way Grout said, "This man gave me the ticket into the bargain for a gold guard," and Horn said, "I sold you them both for the same money"—he afterwards said he would not suffer for other people, he would tell me the truth, and take me from place to place to point out the party he got the ticket of—he did so, and was leading me about for some hours—I went into different houses to look for the man—he said, "It is no use my misleading you, it was a man named Charley or George"—he told me he himself was lodging at Mr. Yates's, 24, Wheeler-street, and he said that Charley and George were living at a coffee-shop—he mentioned two men Charley, and George—he said one lived in the Kingsland-road, at a coffee-shop, and the other close by, at another coffee-shop, where he had taken me—he said the man with the black beard and moustache had from twenty-five to thirty tickets for sale; he did not mean that he was Charley or George; he was a third man—about 8 o'clock on the night of 21st October, I took Simpson at a public-house in Baker's-row—I told him I should take him in custody for pledging jewellery, which had been stolen at different robberies; for pledging a gold watch that was stolen on the 10th, and which he pledged on 10th, and a gold chain which was pledged in Worship-street—he said, "You are perfectly correct, I did pledge them"—he mentioned that he pawned one in Shoreditch, and the other in Worship-street, at the corner of Paul-street—he said it was a man of the name of John Yates who had given him the articles to pledge, and Yates went with him to Russell's in Shoreditch, and to Worship-street, to a pawnbroker, named Johnson, and that Yates lived at 24, Wheeler-street—we have never been able to find Yates—he stated that Yates gave him the articles to pledge, and when he pledged them he brought the ticket and the money out to him—he afterwards made a statement to Sergeant Harris—I did not hear all of it.
Horn. I was at work when he took me.
MR. CLERK. Q. Was he at work that morning? A. Yes, he was working at his father's, who is in the cabinet line.
Simpson. Q. Did I not tell you, at the time I was taken, that I had no knowledge that the articles were stolen until afterwards? A. You did.
THOMAS HARRIS (Police-sergeant, H 7). I was with Kenwood when he apprehended Simpson on this charge—he told me he had known Yates about six weeks, and that he had had victuals from Yates, and had received a half-sovereign from him, but he was to repay him again—he said he was starving, and had not had anything to eat that day but a few greens that were boiled—on the Monday he said he had seen Yates, and went to his house, and Yates told him he was to keep out of the way, as the police were looking for them, there was something wrong, and he said, "I knew nothing was wrong until that day"—I cautioned him after he had told me about the watch and chain, and said, "Have you pawned any other things anywhere else?"—he said, "Yes, I have; I will tell you everything I can think of"—he told me he had pawned the things in the name of Henry Seymour; and, from what he told me besides, we have recovered a great deal of property.
The prisoners statements before the Magistrate were here read as follws:—Horn says:"I bought the two tickets of the watch and the chain of Mr. Yates, for 5s. I sold them to Grout for 7s. He said to me, 'Are these right?' I said, 'Yes; they are right.' Simpson says:'I have been instrumental in recovering nearly all these goods, for I admitted I pawned them, and said where, not knowing how they were obtained, or where from. I pawned them for John Yates, who went with me, and handed me the goods,
and told me what to ask, and I gave him the money when I came out.' Kembell says:"All I have to say is, I'm guilty." Austin says:"I am innocent."
Horn's Defence. When I bought these things of Mr. Yates I did not know they were stolen, and I told the policeman I did not know they were stolen, and I took them round to Yates directly they told me they were stolen. We stood outside the door watting to see if they could catch him.
Simpson's Defence. I received those goods, but I did not know they were stolen. I went there on 13th October, and Mr. Yates told me not to come there any more. I said, "Why?" He said, "The police are after you about those things you have pledged; there is something wrong, so go and hide yourself up, and keep out of the way." I said, "I have no means of hiding myself up; if I do, how am I to live?" He then went away. I never hid myself up, and when the officer took me I told him all about it; that I received them of Yates, and all that. He asked me if I had pledged any other things. I said, "Yes," I had. I have been instrumental in all the goods being recovered that have been recovered. I should not have gone and pledged these goods if I had known anything was wrong, without some remuneration.
Austin's Defence. On Friday, 17th October, I was in the Kent-road, and saw this man driving a horse and trap. He asked me where I was going. I said, "To Walworth." He said, "I am going to Blackheath, and you can go with me." I rode with him, and when we got on to the heath he stopped and said, "Oh, I wish to go to a friend of mine, for a few minutes." He went into a house and left me with the horse—I did not understand the horse. I then saw a policeman, and thought he was noticing my awkwardness. I walked away, and when I came back I could not see this man. I asked the man who was sweeping the crossing, to mind the horse and chaise for a few moments, and gave him twopence. I then went and got some refreshment; this man told me his name, and I inquired for it at one of the houses, I saw the two policemen when I went round, one was the same as I met on the heath. I went up to the horse and chaise, and he asked me if it was mine. I said, "No; why?" He said, "Whom does it belong to." I said, "A gentleman." He said, "Do you know him?" I said I had a slight acquaintance with him; he had left me on the heath. He then said, "You must consider yourself in my custody." I said, "What for?" He said, "Loitering with intent to commit a felony." I was charged and taken to the station. Next morning I was called up, and two females said they thought I was the man who committed a robbery some weeks ago. If this is the last hour I live, I am innocent of it, and I have a witness here to prove that I have been under an engagement with him for the last year, all the time these robberies were being committed.
Witness for Austin.
CHARLES TREW . I am a beer retailer, and live at 132, Blackfriars-road—I know Austin by sight—he is a customer of mine—on 10th October, to the best of my belief, he was at my house—it was a very wet day; it was on Thursday or Friday, I can't exactly say which—I should not like to say it was the 10th; it was a very wet day—he was there all day, and had his meals there—he has visited my house a long time
Henry John Lingard, of 7, Mount-terrace, Whitechapel-road; William Jones, of New-road, Whitechapel; and Thomas Harris, Police-sergeant, H 7, gave Simpson a good character. MR. CLERK here stated that he thought it right to withdraw from the prosecution of Simpson after the evidence that had been given.
SIMPSON, NOT GUILTY .
HORN, GUILTY on the second count.
KEMBELL and AUSTIN, GUILTY on the first count.
Horn, Kembell, and Austin were further charged with having been before convicted; Horn at Worship-street, on 4th April, 1862; Kembell, at Maidstone, on 24th July 1861, in the name of Water Vatlander, when he was sentenced to twelve months imprisonment; and Austin, on 6th February, 1854, in the name of Henry Matters; to which they PLEADED GUILTY.
AUSTIN.**— Four Years' Penal Servitude.
KEMBELL.**— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CLERK dated that since Kembell had been taken this species of depredation had ceased.
(See next Case).
MESSRS. CLERK and BRASLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH DUTTON . I am sister-in-law of Mr. Robert Bowley, of 53, Charing-cross—he resides at a place called the Oakland's, in Dulwich-road park, in the parish of Camberwell—on the evening of 10th October, between 3 and 4 o'clock, on going up-stairs I found my dressing-case emptied of its contents—I missed from it several bracelets, brooches, and rings, and a neck chain—I had seen them safe about 10 in the morning—I then went to my sister, Mrs. Bowley's room, to tell her what had happened, and found she had lost a gold watch—I had not seen the watch for a day or two, but I knew it was in the drawer—this is it (produced)—I know it by the initials on the back.
THOMAS STINTON . I am shopman to Mr. Russell, a pawnbroker, of 10, Shoreditch—on Friday, 10th October, about 5 o'clock in the day, a gold watch was pawned there for 2l. by Simpson, in the name of Henry Seymour.
JAMES FLOWERS . I am a boot-clicker of 3, Horton-road, Chalk-farm—about half-past 7 in the evening of 10th October I was at the corner of Worship-street, Shoreditch, nearly opposite Mr. Russell's, the pawnbroker's—I saw the prisoner Yates and Horn there, and another man named Johnson, who was discharged before the Magistrate—Horn came up, and asked me if I would boy a ticket of a watch—I said, "No"—I then went a little way with them up Worship-street—they were all three together—they followed me up Worship-street, and Horn said I should have the watch for 30s.—I said I did not want it—he then said I should have it for 20s.—I said, "No, I hate got one, I do not want it"—the woman then said, "Look out for the slips, the b—'s got no money"—nothing was said about any other ticket—after that Johnson opened a black bag, and pulled out a pin like a diamond, and asked me if I would buy it, I should have it for 10s.—I said, "No, I do not want it"—I saw in the bag a silver teapot—Yates was at that time just by the side of them—it was about half-past 7 in the evening—I refused to have anything to do with them—about three-quarters of an hour afterwards I saw the three together again, in the Old-street-road—Johnson was still carrying the bag, and the woman had a black eye, and a child in her arms.
Horn. At the police-station you said you saw me on the 13th? A. No, on the 10th—I never said it was on the 13th.
JOHN BOND . I am an inspector of the P division—I saw Yates after she was in custody—I think she was taken on the Thursday after the 13th—she had got a black eye at thetime I saw her—I don't know whether she had any
child herself, but I saw her sister with a young child, when she came to the police-court to see her.
YATES and SIMPSON.— NOT GUILTY .
HORN— GUILTY .*— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
103. JOHN SIMPSON was again indicted for stealing (in Essex) a bracelet, and other articles, value 5l. the property of George Henry Polyblank, in his dwelling-house; upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE PRICE . I am landlord of the Crown and Anchor public-house, in Charles-street, Bermondsey, and have been so nearly two years—my house was broken into on the morning of 11th March, to the best of my knowledge—I went to bed at 12 o'clock, or a few minutes after, the night before, leaving the house bolted up as usual—I saw to it myself before I went to bed—one window up-stairs was not fastened, the others were—I bolted the folding doors down-stairs myself—I was disturbed a little before 3—I jumped out of bed, and opened the window—it was not a very dark morning, not a foggy morning at all, much as usual—I looked out of the window—for a moment I did not see anything—I only heard screaming—I sung out "Police" directly—I was sure there was something the matter, and then I saw the prisoner and two more rush out of the house through the folding-doors, and they turned to the right, up towards Dockhead—I forget the name of the street—I afterwards looked at the window of the club-room, and found it partly open—it was not in the same state as I left it in when I went to bed at 12—the folding-doors bad not been forced—one bolt was pulled down, and the other pulled back—they were not opened from the outside—I missed my spectacles, my snuff-box, a kitchen poker, lots of tobacco, and various other things—I had seen the prisoner before, often—many a time, in my own house, as well as out of doors—I am positive he is the man I saw running away with others—I next saw him at the police-station the other night, last week, I think, I forget the day.
COURT. Q. Did you give information to the police directly this happened? A. Yes—they came down directly afterwards—I did not mention any name to them—I did not tell them who it was.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Do you know the day this happened? A. I can't charge my memory with the day now, and I can't say when the man was taken in custody—I wear spectacles sometimes—I heard screaming—there was only one woman in the house besides my wife—my wife did not scream—it was the woman that screamed—her name is Young now—it was
not then—she has been married since—the man to whom she was married was lodging in the house at that time—I saw him run out after the other men, while I was looking out of the window—he did not run out first—he did not come back and call me—I was up, looking out of window, before he came out of the house—I sleep on the first floor front—there is no back to the house—it is a licensed house, of course—it is all front; it has quite an imposing appearance, I assure you—I had two gas lights, one on each side of me—I don't know where the Neckinger is—there is Neckinger-street—I have known Bermondsey ever since I have lived in it, two years—there is no place called the Neckinger, that I know of.
MR. BESLEY. Q. When you saw these men run out of the house, did you see Raymond, the policeman? A. There were two policemen there—I have seen Raymond here to-day—I don't recollect whether he was one of them, or not.
JOHN RAYMOND (Policeman, M 259). On the morning of 11th March, about 3 o'clock, I saw the prisoner running in the direction from the prosecutor's towards the "Sugar Loaf" in Dockhead—he was about two hundred and fifty or three hundred yards from the public-house when I first saw him I saw no one else running—I knew the prisoner before—I saw him next after that, a fortnight ago last Wednesday.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure about the date, when you saw a man running about 3 in the morning? A. Yes, it was on 11th March—the robbery did not happen in our division—it was not entered in our books—I fix the date because another constable who ran after him the same night told me so—I told the Magistrate I would not swear to any date; but Curren, the constable, came up to me that night—that was the only night he came up to me; because his was the opposite beat to me, and we are not allowed to cross the road to speak to one another—I only entered the force in December—I had never spoken to him before till that night—I will pledge myself that I did not speak to him on any other night, till the prisoner was apprehended—I found this knife (produced) in the prisoner's boot, on searching him at the station.
JAMES CURREN (Policeman, M 107). I know the prisoner by sight—I saw him on the morning of 11th March, about half-part 2, assisted by two others, attempting to break into a tea-grocer's shop in Gedley-terrace, Dockhead—that is in the next street but one to Charles-street—I received information that same morning about the robbery at the Crown and Anchor—I am sure it was the same morning that I saw him at the grocer's shop.
Cross-examined. Q. Was a man taken into custody for being in the position in which you suppose the prisoner to have been, on that charge, and taken before the Magistrate? A. Yes; he was discharged—that man was not supposed to be the prisoner in the first instance—I saw the prisoner on the other man's shoulders, who was taken—he was not charged as being the man on the shoulders; I am quite clear about that—I was present at the police-court, and gave evidence—my brother constable had been on the look-out for the prisoner between that day and yesterday fortnight.
MR. LILLEY called
ANGELINA YOUNG . At the beginning of March my name was Angelina Draper, and I was servant to Mr. Price at the Crown and Anchor at that time—I recollect some persons breaking into the house—I heard them come down the stairs and light a candle against the pump—they then went and drew some beer, and remained there about twenty minutes, then came and tried my door, which is on the ground floor, next to the tap-room—I got
out of bed, and went up a flight of stairs, opened the door, and saw the last one go out—I heard talking—I then went up into the young man's room, whom I afterwards married, and called him; he got up, got a poker, and ran after them; and while he was gone I went and called Mr. Price and Mr. Capelin, who was a lodger in the house, and they got up; and Mr. Price opened the window and called out "Police! Thieves!"—when I knocked at his door the first time he did not hear me, and I said, "Price, Price"—he said, "What?"—I said, "There are thieves all over the place"—I did not hear any screaming—I did not scream—I knocked at the bottom staircase door, and then I ran up-stairs—Young came back as soon as Mr. Price and Mr. Capelin got down stairs—Young is here to-day.
COURT. Q. What does your room open into? A. Where the folding-doors are—they were wide open when I got out—I was sleeping alone in that room—Young slept up-stairs, over the kitchen, not near Mr. Price's bed-room, the other side of the house altogether—I was before the Magistrate when this was inquired into, but I have been laid up with rheumatic fever—I was subpœned; I don't know by whom—they brought me a subpœna.
CHRISTOPHER YOUNG . At the beginning of March I lived at the Crown and Anchor in Charles-street, Dockhead—the woman who is now my wife came and called me up on the night of the robbery—I got a poker and ran out—I ran about 100 yards away from the place, but I saw nobody—I heard no noise—I was called up—I took the poker because I thought if I saw them, I would knock them down—I saw nobody, and brought the poker back—I saw Mr. Price about five minutes after I came back.
GEORGE PRICE (recalled). I was called up by hearing screams of "Capelin, Capelin, there are thieves in the house!"—that roused me—I did not see Mrs. Young come to my door, it was locked—I always lock the bottom door—she could not get to my door—I am sure that the moment I heard her scream "Capelin, Capelin," I threw open my window—I am quite sure I saw the men run away—I saw Mr. Young about two or three minutes after I saw the last man run away—they were just out of my sight when I saw him.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Where did you see him run? A. Out of the folding-doors—I was down stairs when he came back—the spectacles and snuff-box had been in the bar, in the place where I usually put them before I go to bed—the staircase that I spoke about, only leads to my room—there is a side door to another bed-room—that staircase leads to the concert-room—then there is another staircase goes up to where the other man sleeps—the thieves had been up to the concert-room another way—they could not reach my door that way, because the inner door was locked, and Capelin was sleeping there, and they could not get through to my room without going through there first.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, DECEMBER 15th, 1862.