CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
ELEVENTH SESSION, HELD SEPTEMBER 18TH, 1865.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
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, September 18th, 1865, and following days.
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WARREN STORMES HALE, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir WILLIAM SHEE , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir FRANCIS GILLERY PIGOTT , Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; Sir MONTAGUE SMITH , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., and WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M.P., Aldermen of the said City; RUSSELL GURNEY , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS GABRIEL , Esq.,; JAMES ABBISS , Esq.,; SYDNEY HEDLEY WATERLOW , Esq.; ANDREW LUSK , Esq., MP.,; and DAVID STONE , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
HALE, MAYOR. ELEVENTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, September 18th, 1865.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution, and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
JOSEPH JOHN BROWN . I am a bill discounter, at 8, St. Benet's-place, City—I first knew the prisoner some six months before this transaction—about 24th March he called at my office; we were on pretty friendly terms at that time, and he said, "Brown, here is a bill that I think you may take; it is an order which Mr. Preece, the acceptor of the bill, has received from some steam-boat company for bottled beer; I can't carry it out, not having the money, unless I get the bill discounted; there is about 14l. profit on it to me; if you will take 7l. of it, write me out the cheque"—in answer to that I said, not knowing the acceptor, and having one or two little things, running with him at that time, I would not take it without some further knowledge—he then said, "Well, Mr. Preece, the acceptor, is a young man, and not long established in business, but he has a brother, Mr. W. Preece, at Southampton, a civil engineer, a highly respectable man; he keeps an account at the Hampshire Banking Company, and if I get his endorsement on the bill, will you then take it?"—I then said, "Believing what you say, to be true, I will take it"—at that time he showed me this bill (produced)—it had the acceptor's name, G. Preece, on it as it is now; it was endorsed by the prisoner at that time—the name, W. D. Preece, was not on it then—about two days afterwards the prisoner came to me, and said he had sent the bill to Southampton, and had received it back that morning—he produced it to me, with the endorsement, W. D. Preece, on it—I then drew this cheque for 183l. 18s., and gave it to the prisoner—the bill became due, it was presented in the ordinary way, and it has never been paid—I have not been able to find the endorser—I afterwards received these two letters from the prisoner—there are no dates to any of his letters—there is one letter here which would be written about a fortnight after the date of the bill—I saw the
prisoner several times after the bill became due; he wrote to me, and I afterwards saw him personally, and he told me that Mr. W. D. Preece was dead, and I need not trouble myself about it, but he would go down to South-ampton, and see the executors, and I should be recouped the money—I can't say in whose handwriting the W. D. Preece is—(Two letters from the prisoner to Mr. Brown were put in and read, the first stating that Mr. W. D. Preece had died on the day the bill became due, and the second, asking him to send a copy of the bill of Preece's to him at the Railway Hotel, Southamton, and that Mr. Preece, the acceptor, had had 12l. 10s. out of the bill)—(Bill read:) "March 24th, 1865. Bill for 190l. 18s., drawn by Henry Wilshin, Accepted by G. Preece, endorsed by Henry Wilshin. W. D. Preece" the cheque I gave to the prisoner was returned paid through my bankers—the prisoner endorsed it—this (produced) is a letter I wrote in answer to the second letter he wrote to me—it was returned to me through the dead-letter office.
Cross-examined. Q. You have known the prisoner about six months, you say? A. About that—I met him at the house of some friends—I had a bill transaction with him somewhere about a month afterwards—I live at Moulsey, and he lives at Thames Ditton—he mentioned a bill one morning in the train, and I negociated a bill for him—I have had about five transactions with him in all—the total amount of business done for him was 800l. and the total amount of interest 27l.—50 per cent, was not the general rate of interest—I did not charge him 1l. for changing a cheque; he would persist in paying me 1l. for the cheque; no charge was made—50 per cent is not my ordinary rate of interest—I went to Paris for a week with the prisoner and my father-in-law—I think it was in Easter week—I also went for a day's shooting with him—I think that was after the first bill had been discounted, but before anything was irregular—we each paid our own expenses, but I think I paid his because he had a cheque from me for 160l. the same day we went, and I have not been paid yet—at the last moment he said, "I can't go with you; I have been disappointed in two or three cheques," and the end of it was that I let him have 180l.—the bills were not drawn to cover expenses as well as other things—the business transactions had nothing to do with the Paris trip—I really do not know what the prisoner is; he was supposed to have something like 600l. or 700l. a year, and he afterwards took a place at 8, St. Helen's-place, on the second-floor, and settled himself as a commission agent—my offices were on the first-floor there—he asked me if I knew a place for an office—he told me he was not doing anything then—he said he should like an office, and he took this place at a rent of 50l.—his wife has 300l. a year, and at that time I believed he had 300l. a year.
MR. POLAND. Q. Have you ever been paid a farthing on this bill in question? A. No; the first bill was paid—some were paid regularly—out of the 800l. of bills I have discounted, I should think about 300l. has been paid; I am a loser of 430l.
THEODORE HALSTEAD FOULGBR (City-detective). I took the prisoner into custody about 12, on 8th June, in Moorgate-street—I told him I was an officer, and I was going to arrest him for forging and uttering a bill of exchange for 190l. 10s., and that the name he had forged was Mr. Preece, of Southampton—he said it was not a forgery; Mr. Preece had died the very day the bill became due, how could Mr. Brown say it was a forgery when the man was dead?—he said there were several Mr. Preeces at Southampton—he mentioned four—I took a note of the names—he said, "There is a Mr.
G. E. Preece, a Mr. W. E. Preece, and a Mr. G. W. D. Preece, and a Mr. A. Preece"—he said the two former were brothers, and the two latter were brothers; but otherwise they were no relations—he said that the Mr. Preece who died lived at Wolston, near Southampton, he was the brother of the one who had endorsed the bill—I took him into custody—I went afterwards to Southampton, and endeavoured to find a person named Preece—I found a Mr. William Henry Preece, a civil engineer; he is here—I was not able to find any other Mr. Preece there—I went to Wolston, which is a little village across the water; I could not find any Mr. Preece there.
Cross-examined. Q. Where did you go to inquire? A. At Wolston I went to the police-station, to the post-office, the registrar's, and to the Floatingbridge Company, who convey passengers across—there is a Directory at Southampton—I have not got it here.
MR. POLAND. Q. Did you make inquiries at Southampton as well as Wolston? A. Yes; at every place I could think of.
WILLIAM HENRY PREECE . I am a civil engineer, and reside at 15, East-park-terrace, Southampton—I have a brother, a Mr. George Preece, at 16, Abingdon street, Westminster, and I have another brother, John Richard Preece, who lives also in London—I know of no other Mr. Preece but myself living at Southampton—I keep an account with the Hampshire Banking Company at Southampton—this signature, W. D. Preece, on this bill is not my endorsement, or written by my authority; I know nothing of it—I have no relative of the name of W. D. Preece.
Cross-examined. Q. That is not your own name? A. No; my other brother is in London—I believe he is not here to-day—I have referred to the Southampton Directory.
MR. POLAND. Q. And notwithstanding that, you know of no other Mr. Preece there? A. No; I never saw the prisoner before this.
FREDERICK. JOHN HOOPER . I am a clerk to the Hampshire Banking Company—the last witness, Mr. Preece, keeps an account at our bank—no other Mr. Preece keeps an account there—I do not know any other Mr. Preece at Southampton or Wolston.
JAMES CAVALIER PRINCE . I am registrar of births and deaths in the district including Wolston and Southampton—I have lived in that neighbourhood thirty years—I never heard of but one Mr. Preece there; that is Mr. William Henry Preece, who is here—I have got the registry of the deaths—I have searched there for the death of a Mr. W. D. Preece; there is no such name in the books.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you registrar for the whole of Southampton? A. No; I am registrar of four parishes round there, and the east part of Southampton.
GEORGE PREECE . I have offices at 16, Abingdon-street—I am the acceptor of this bill—I know nothing whatever of the endorsement, W. D. Preece—that was not on it when I accepted it—I have been sued on the bill—I was not able to pay it—it was purely an acommodation bill—I had no order for bottled beer which I could not execute without this bill being discounted—there was no transaction at all between me and the prisoner—I know nothing of any such person as W. D. Preece.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you never hear of William Duncan Preece? A. The prisoner told me once be had a cousin named George Duncan Preece, that was at the end of last year I think; a letter addressed to him at the Railway Hotel, Southampton, came to me by mistake, it first went to my brother and he sent it on to me—the prisoner is not related to me at all
—I think I have some letters in which the prisoner mentions the name of George Duncan Preece—I was sued within a week after the bill becoming due—I was arrested on the judgment at the end of a fortnight and placed in Whitecross-street—I remained there a month altogether—Mr. Brown made no application to me during that time about Mr. Preece at Southampton—I received no money on the bill—I had a written indemnity from the prisoner holding me harmless—I had had money from him on a previous smaller bill at the beginning of the year, that was unpaid—there was a bill outstanding on which he was liable and I too—I never saw Mr. Brown till I saw him at Basinghall-street.
MR. POLAND. Q. Is it true that you had 12l. 10s. out of the proceeds of this bill? A. No; it was long before that—I never saw George Duncan Preece.
COURT. Q. How came you to communicate with the prisoner about this letter? A. Because his address was on the letter, it professed to come to him—he said that George Duncan Preece married his cousin—this (produced) is the letter he wrote me on the subject.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. KEMP conducted the Protection, and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
ROBERT SNELL . I live at 26, Seething-lane—I have known the defendant nearly thirteen years, he lived at 12, Barking-churchyard—prior to June,.1862, I had been in the habit of lending him small sums of money—in that month he came to me and said, "Bob, I want to borrow 50l."—I said, "Yes; but it is a large amount, what do you want it for?"—he said, "I am going to pay my partner, we are going to dissolve partnership, and I want the money"—I said, "What are you going to give me as security?"—he said, "I will give you the lease of my house, when can I have it?—I said, "I will go up stairs and see if I can let you have it now, and if so I will let you know"—I went and got the money ready, had it counted out, and said, "Harry, that is the money," and he said, "And that is the lease of my house, "giving me this document (produced) wrapped up in a piece of thin paper, and an I O U for the amount—I should not have parted with that amount of money, if I had not believed that was the lease of his house—he was to pay me 5 per cent, interest; he paid the interest for two years—I found out what this document was about four months wince—I then discovered that it was an old lease, dated in 1833—I went to him and told him of it, and he said, "Oh, my God, you have found me out"—I said, "Yes. you had better see about settling it, what are you going to do?"—he said, "All right, Bob, you shan't lose, I will make it right, come on old boy, come and have a glass of ale."
Cross-examined. Q. How long after that did you take these proceedings? A. About ten days after—I saw Mr. Badcock, his father-in-law before that—I asked him if he knew about this transaction, he said he had heard of it—I asked him if he would give me a bill for the amount, or the money, or the lease, for his son-in-law; if he had, I would not have taken proceedings—I did not see his mother—they have lived there some time—the mothers
first husband kept a baker's shop, the prisoner carried it on a little while I believe—he told me he was a bankrupt, that was a month before this—I said, "What am I to do about this lease"—he said, "Oh, never mind that, Bob, don't say anything about that"—I did not fold up the I O U with the lease—I did not see his mother bring down the lease—I went to his house to say I had got the money ready, and he brought the lease after me to my house—I did not see his mother there—the I 0 U was shoved under the string on the top of the lease which was tied up.
MR. KEMP. Q. Did the prisoner himself bring you the lease? A. Yes; he told me, when I went to him to say I had got the wrong lease, that he had sold the real lease to his father-in-law.
MR. METCALFE called
EMMA BADCOCK . I have lately been married to Mr. Badcock—I remember my son, the prisoner, borrowing the 50l. of Mr. Snell—I said, "What security are you going to give him"—he said, "I think the lease of the house, mother"—he asked me to fetch him down the lease—I went upstairs to my iron safe, opened it, took out what I thought was the identical lease, the then existing lease, brought it down and handed it to my son, at that time the other lease was in the same chest with several others—I kept the key of that chest; we found out that it was the wrong lease, I should think, very nearly two years afterwards—my son was a bankrupt at that time—I think it was about May or June of this year, that he filed his petition—I think it must have been last year that I found it was the wrong lease—I was looking over other papers and found the existing lease, and I brought it down and said, "Mr. Snell must have got the wrong lease"—the existing lease was afterwards sold to Mr. Badcock, he was not aware of this transaction—my son was not aware that Mr. Snell had the wrong lease up to the time I found it out, nor was I.
Cross-examined by MR. KEMP. Q. When you found the existing lease you told your son of it? A. Yes; I did not tell my husband—it was regularly sold to him—I knew of it—I did not tell him that my son had borrowed money on it, it was not a fraud—the old lease was not wrapped up at all—I did not open it—I felt quite confident I was giving the real lease.
COURT. Q. You knowing that money had been borrowed on that lease, were a party to your son getting money from your husband for it? A. Yes, a mother will do a great deal for her son—I was not aware at that time that I was doing wrong.
ROBERT BADCOCK . I am the father-in-law of the prisoner—I hold the existing lease of the house in Barking-churchyard; it was made over to me on 19th December, 1864—it was pledged for 100l.—I paid that for the redemption of the lease—Mr. Mussett owed me 450l. and I think I handed him two securities for 200l. for the lease—he was very much pressed by his creditors at that time—if he had had time I think he would have cleared his way—I knew nothing at all of the deposit of the previous lease until the prosecutor spoke of it to me—I declined to pay the money myself.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know when the lease was pledged? A. The date is on the back of it or inside, 14th November, 1864
NOT GUILTY .
The following Prisoners PLEADED GUILTY:—
Confined Six Months.
NEW COURT.—Monday, September 18th, 1865.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and WARTON conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD WEST . I keep the Napoleon III. public-house, Great Earl-street, Seven Dials—on 8th August I served the prisoner with a quartern of gin which came to fivepence, she put down a bad shilling—I asked her if she was aware it was bad—she said, "No," and asked me to return it, but I would not—she put her hand in her pocket and gave me another—I said, "Why this is as bad as the first one"—I asked her if she had any more, she said, "No"—I gave her in charge with the coins—two women and a man came in with her—I took the gin away.
DANIEL HEALEY (Policeman, F 111). I took the prisoner—she said, "I know I uttered them, I did not know they were bad—I merely took the two women in to treat them"—she handed me two purses, one containing one shilling and a penny good money, and the other nothing.
She PLEADED GUILTY.** to being convicted of a like offence in April, 1862. Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
MARY BRENNAN . I am barmaid at the Black-horse, Deaman-street, Whitechapel—on Tuesday night, 5th September, about a quarter to 9 o'olock, the prisoner came for a glass of ale and a cigar, which came to 4d., and he gave me a bad crown—I gave it to Mr. Seaborne.
PETER SEABORNE . I keep the Black-horse—I received a crown from the last witness, in the club-room up stairs—I found it was bad, went down stairs, and said to the prisoner, "Are you aware that you have uttered a counterfeit crown?"—hi said, "No, I know the man I had it from, I will fetch him"—I said, "You had better remain, and I will fetch some one at the same time"—I sent for a policeman, and pushed the door to, to prevent the prisoner's escape; but a customer came in and he rushed out—I followed him, took him, and gave him in custody with the crown.
Prisoner. Q. Did I run out, or was I pushed out at the door? A. You made a bolt—you said you were a costermonger, and took the crown in the market.
Prisoner's Defence. I am a costermonger, I took this crown and had no idea it was bad; I was pushed out at the door.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence in October, 1864.
"William Harper,Convicted October, 1864, of unlawfully uttering counterfeit coin.—Confined Nine Months")—I was present—the prisoner is the man.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and WARTON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM POHL . I assist my father, who keeps the Crooked Billit, 120, Globe-road—on Saturday evening, 9th September, the prisoner came into the bar and asked for a pint of half-and-half—he offered me a florin—I told him it was bad, and asked him if he had any more about him—he said, "Yes, I have just got change for half a sovereign, take it out of this"—he pulled out 4s. and threw them on the counter—they were all bad—I gave them to the policeman.
ISAAC PAWSEY (Policeman, K 485). I took the prisoner, and received this florin and 4s. from Pohl—I found on the prisoner these two other florins (produced,) and in another pocket 9s. 6d. in good money.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I changed a half-sovereign and they must have given me the money; I was intoxicated."
GUILTY .**— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. COOPER the Defence.
ELIZABETH BENSKIN . I keep a shop at Hounslow—about eight weeks ago the prisoner came for half-a-pound or butter, which came to 7 1/2 d. and she gave me a shilling—I gave it to her to take to a beer-shop to be tried—she brought it back—I afterwards returned it to her, as it was bad, and she paid me.
Cross-examined. Q. Did she actually show you where they had bent it? A. Yes.
EMMA HENVILLE I live with my mother, who keeps a grocer's shop at Hounslow—the prisoner came some time in July—I cannot remember what she asked for, but she gave me a bad shilling—I returned it to her—about a week afterwards she came again, and tendered me a shilling—I tried it with my teeth, and gave it back to her—I cannot say whether it was the one that she tendered to me before—I have been in the habit of supplying her with things.
Cross-examined. Q. For more than twelve months? A. Yes, she was sometimes employed in buying grocery for people.
CATHERINE JONES . I am the wife of Charles Jones, a beer-shop keeper, of Hounslow—on 3rd August, the prisoner came in with a can for a pot of fourpenny ale—she gave me a shilling, and I gave her 8d. out—shortly after she was gone, I gave it to my husband and found it was bad—two days afterwards she came again for a pot of sixpenny ale, and gave me a bad shilling, I told her it was bad; she said, "My aunt gave it to me," and that she lived with her uncle and aunt, Mr. and Mrs. Francis, in the Bath-road—my husband detained her.
CHARLES JONES . I am the husband of the last witness—on Saturday night, August 5th, the prisoner came in, and my wife handed me a shilling—I said that it was bad, and told her to keep the girl—I gave the shilling to the policeman, with another which my wife gave me on the 3rd—the aunt came and offered me good money.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and WARTON conducted the Prosecution.
HANNAH FLATMAN . I am the wife of George Holmon Flatman, who keeps the Portland Stores, Upper Marylebone-street—on 7th August, the prisoners came in, and Cosman called for a pint of sixpenny ale, and gave me a bad shilling—I told her it was bad, and took the ale away—she said, "A gentle-man gave it to me in the street"—she wished me to give it to her, and she would give me a good one, but I refused—she said, "I met this woman accidentally in the street, and brought her in to treat her—Edwards said, she was a respectable married woman, with two children, and came in accidentally with her—Cosman said that she was a prostitute—I gave them in charge.
ELIZA HEALEY . I am the wife of Francis Healey, manager to Mrs. Boylston, of the Scotch-stores, Long-acre—on 2nd June I was single, and was living with Mrs. Boylston, my mother—Cosman came in that day, for a glass of port wine, which came to 4d.—she gave me a florin—I told her it was bad, and passed it to my mother—I took the wine away.
JANE BOYLSTON . I am the mother of the last witness—on 22nd July, she gave me a bad florin, and I took hold of Cosman and said that I should lock her up, which I did, and put the florin on the mantelpiece.
JOB LAMBERT (Police-sergeant, F 14). I took Cosman, and produce the florin—she said that she had received it from a friend—I asked her who her friend was—she said that she did not like to say, but he was a married man, and she was a prostitute—she had 1s. 6d. in silver, and 3 1/2 d. in copper, good money—she gave her name Amelia Bishop—she was remanded for a week and discharged.
SARAH GOVIER . I am the wife of John Govier, who keeps the Tavistock Arms, Great Russell-street, Bloomsbury—on 24th May, Cosman came for a glass of ale, it came to 1 1/2 d.; she gave me a florin—I told her it was bad, she said she received it from a gentleman—I gave it to my husband, who gave her in custody—I took the ale back.
Strand—on 7th January, a woman came into my house, and tendered me a bad shilling—I told her it was bad, marked it and returned it to her—she left and joined Edwards—I followed them to a house in Chandos-street, where they purchased a pint of porter—I afterwards saw them go into Mr. Freeman's King-street, Covent-garden—they came out together—I went in and Mrs. Freeman showed me a bad shilling—I followed them to a cigar-shop; Mr. Boleno's—Edwards waited outside, the other went in, and came out and joined Edwards, and they went away together—I went in and the assistant showed me the bad shilling which had been tendered to me, and which I had marked—I assisted in taking them in custody—Edwards is one, but Cosman is not the other.
SARAH FREEMAN . I am the wife of Augustus Freeman, who keeps the Essex Serpent, King-street, Covent-garden—on 7th January, Edwards and a woman who is not here, came for some gin and peppermint—Edwards gave me a bad shilling—I put it in the till and gave her change—after they left Mr. Gaze came in, and I found it was bad—I put it on a shelf and gave it to the prosecutor—Mr. Gaze afterwards picked it out.
GEORGE WOHLMAN . I was in the service of Mr. Boleno, of Garrick-street, Covent-garden—on 11th January a woman, neither of the prisoners, came for half an ounce of tobacco, which came to 1d.—she gave me 1s.—I gave her a sixpenny piece and 6d.—a policeman came in, and Mr. Gaze gave him the shilling.
WILLIAM FROST (Policeman, F. 126) On 11th January Mr. Gaze spoke to me, and I saw Edwards and another woman, who is not here, going into different public-houses—the other woman went into Boleno's, and I took her in custody—she said the shilling was given to her by a gentleman in the street—she gave the name of Johnson—6d. and 3 1/2 d. was found on her—she was taken to Bow-street—remanded and discharged.
WILLIAM GORDON (Policeman, G. 33) On 31st March, I was on duty in St. Martin's-street, in plain clothes, and saw Edwards with a man named Moor, and a woman named James—I followed them to the Opera Tavern, Haymarket, and saw the man hand 1s. to James in Edwards' presence—James went into the Opera Tavern—I watched her and saw the landlady return something to her, which I could not see—I afterwards saw them at a public house at the corner of Oxenden-street—I went in—James slipped two shillings off the counter, and this bad shilling (produced) dropped between them—I took them all in custody, and at Marlborough-street Police Court they were remanded and discharged—I afterwards went to Mrs. Harrison, and showed her the shilling I picked up.
Edwards. Q. Did not you come into the public-house at the corner of Oxenden-street with the female you are connected with, and say, "Oh my lady, I will have you before the night is out?" A. Never.
CATHERINE HARRISON . I am the wife of Thomas Harrison, who keeps the Opera Tavern—on 31st March the woman came in followed by Gordon—James asked for 1 1/2 d. worth of rum, and gave me a bad shilling—I bent it with my teeth, threw it on the counter, and she said "For what I have drank I will give you 1d."—the policeman brought me 1s., which I identified as the one I had bent—the woman had taken it away.
Cosmans Defence. The 2s. piece went all round the bar, and I do not think it is the same.
Edwards' Defence. I believe all the witnesses have spoken the truth, except Michael Gordon. It is a dreadful thing that a man who has been
committed for perjury should be allowed to take an oath, and come up against the mother of a family? he has lost his stripes.
GUILTY .*— Confined Twelve Months each.
MESSRS. POLAND and WARTON conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLINS The Defence.
ESTHER KENNY . I live with my father, at 6, Blue Anchor-yard, York-street, Westminster—on 11th August, about half-past 10 in the morning, I was at the door of a public-house and the prisoner spoke to me—he said, "Go and get me a quarter of a pound of cheese, and I will wait till you come back"—he showed me the shop and gave me a half-crown—I went to the shop—Mr. Morrell gave me the cheese—I gave him the half crown—he tried it and it broke—I gave him a description of the prisoner—I was in the shop about an hour talking to Mr. Morrell—after then I went out with the cheese, and went to the Blue Anchor to see if I could see him, but he was not there—I saw a man who is not here, but did not give him the cheese—he spoke to me about it—I went that day with a policeman to a house—I saw the prisoner and his wife—the constable said, "Is that the man," and I said "Yes"—I had seen him before, and his wife and also the other man, but I never saw him with the prisoner.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not the man who spoke to you about the cheese under an archway? A. No—it was another man—I was not under an archway—I was not to have anything for doing this—I told the policeman that a dark man gave me the half-crown—that was so—when the policeman fetched me to the prisoner's house, he said, "That is the man who gave you the half-crown"—I said, "Yes"—he said at once I never saw you, and never gave you the half-crown—no one was in the room but the prisoner, his wife, the policeman, and myself—the prisoner was reading a song book and cracking walnuts—I had not told the policeman anything before he took me to the prisoner's house—I told them at the butter shop that the man who gave me the half-crown was a dark man; and I told the policeman as well.
MR. POLAND. Q. Was the prisoner dressed as he is now? A. No; I told Mr. Morrell he had a dark coat on, and that he had no whiskers—when I got to the prisoner's house he had a flannel jacket on.
COURT. Q. At what time was that? A. One o'clock in the day—I did not know the prisoner by name, only by sight—I also knew the other man by sight who spoke to me—Mr. Morrell did not ask me a great many questions—he went out for a policeman, and I waited till he came back.
EDWARD MORRELL . I keep a cheesemonger's shop—on 11th August this little girl came for a quarter of a pound of cheese, and gave me a halfcrown—I tested it and broke a piece off it—it was bad—she gave me a description of a youngish looking man, with a long dark coat and dark cap, and without any beard or moustache; and I think she said he had a broad chin—I detained her, sent for a policeman, and went outside the door and looked for the man—about a quarter of an hour after the girl came I saw the prisoner pass the shop and look in very hard—he was dressed in a long dark coat and a cap—he went to the cow-yard—I saw him again half an hour afterwards with another man—I went out, met a constable, and then sent the girl out with the cheese—I saw the man who I had seen with the prisoner go and speak to her—I am quite certain of him—the constable
was on the alert on the other side of the street, and the man went away—that constable is not here—I gave the half-crown to another constable.
Cross-examined. Q. How long was the girl in your shop? A. Rather over an hour—I was standing looking over the window, and the prisoner was outside on the kerb——he looked hard in—I believe I said so before—I saw the prisoner and the other man go to the cow-yard, but did not see them part—the prisoners wife had been in my shop at eight o'clock that morning to make purchases, and she came in while the little girl was there—you can go to Orchard-street from my place in two minutes.
COURT. Q. Could the girl see anybody who went pass? A. No; I secreted her—I gave the policeman the description that was given to me, but did not name anybody to him—I did not know the prisoner's name—I only knew him by sight—I have seen him and his wife frequently at my shop, and have seen her waiting while he has made a purchase.
FREDERICK KOCH (Policeman, B. 312) On 11th August, between twelve and one o'clock, Morrell spoke to me and gave me this half-crown—I found the little girl Kenny at her residence and took her to 6, Union-place, in consequence of a description I had—the prisoner was there, and I asked her, in his presence, whether she knew that man—she said, "Yes, that is the man who gave me a half-crown to get him a quarter of a pound of Dutch cheese—I said to the prisoner, "Bill, I shall take you in custody for uttering counterfeit coin"—he asked the girl whether she was certain he was the man that gave her the half-crown, and told her to make quite sure whether it was him or not—he asked her several times, and she adhered to her statement that he was the man—he said that he had been in the Broadway that morning—I told him that I had seen him there, and that he had been home more than an hour reading a song book—he was dressed as he is now.
Cross-examined. Q. Did be say that he had been on the Broadway two hours or an hour? A. He said, "I have been in the Broadway and you saw me there"—he said that he had been at home an hour—he did not say he had been at home two hours reading a book—I said to the girl, "Do you know that man?"—I did not say, "Is not that the man?"—she recognized him directly—I have been on that beat, and have called the prisoner up at five o'clock several times to his work three months ago—I have left the bent two months—I searched the room, but found no bad money.
MR. POLAND. Q. What time did you take the prisoner? A. Between twelve and one—I saw him in the Broadway about ten o'clock—he then wore a long black coat, rather roughish, a black hat, and dark trousers and shoes—I did not look in the room for a black coat—he was dressed and reading a book when I went in.
The prisoner received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, September 19th, 1865
Before Mr. Recorder.
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY:—
(36), to feloniously breaking into the chapel of the Oratory, and stealing 8l. and other moneys, the property of John Dobree Dalglairns— Confined Nine Months. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. PEARCE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
JOHN EATON . I live at Vauxhall—I am in the employ of Mr. E. T. Smith, the proprietor of Cremorne-gardens, and have been so for four or five years; it is part of my duty to attend to the glass lustres—I employed the prisoner to assist me for one fortnight—his duties were to clean the lustres and to put them in a proper state to put up—they were cleaned in a room on the premises—I can positively speak to these lustres (produced,) they are Mr. Smith's property—I never authorised the prisoner to take, them away.
Cross-examined. Q. Was a man named Fisher employed there? Yes, he had the temporary management of the workmen at the commencement of the season—he was in a more trusty position than the prisoner—I never left the prisoner there alone, he always left before me—a person so inclined might have opportunity of placing things surreptitiously about their person—these lustres were found at the house occupied jointly by the prisoner and Fisher—I know that Fisher has been given into custody on a charge of a forgery, in consequence of that the policeman went to the lodging to search, and there found the lustres—Fisher had the key of the room; he had, no doubt, an opportunity of taking them—he had the key and had the power of going into the room.
WILLIAM CORBYN . I am manager of Cremorne-gardens, and have been so for several years—I can speak positively to the identity of these lustres—the prisoner was one of the band at Cremorne, and was also employed by Mr. Eaton—he absented himself from the gardens for some days—he returned on the evening of 19th August—I told him I had received information that there was property stolen from Cremorne in his apartment—he replied, "If there is, Fisher must have stolen it"—I said, "If the property is there, have you any objection to letting me see it?"—he hesitated a moment and then said, "No, if you like to go you may go and see it?"—I said, "Well, let us go," and we walked towards his apartments—when we came to the end of the street, he refused to go any further—Manley, a police-officer in plain clothes, was by us, and I said, "If you refuse to go I shall be obliged to compel you;" and after some objection he at last consented, and we went to his lodging, it consisted of two rooms in Blantyre-street, Chelsea—he applied to the land-lady for the key—he said, "Bring me my key"—the rooms were unfurnished—on the sideboard, by the side of the fire-place, I found two parcels rolled up in newspaper—the policeman opened them, and they contained these lustres, which I examined and at once knew were Mr. Smith's property—I said, "Barnes, you must know that these are stolen from Cremorne"—he said, "Well, you cannot charge me with stealing them"—I said, "But I can charge you with the unlawful possession, and I shall give you in charge for that"—which I did—I believe Fisher lived somewhere in the neighbourhood of the King's-road.
Cross-examined. Q. But he had lived with the prisoner in this lodging, had he not? A. I have heard Fisher say since that he had lived there occasionally—Fisher had absconded at this time; we were looking after both Fisher and the prisoner—the prisoner came back on the 19th—I believe some one played for him in the band in his absence, engaged by the bandmaster—it is very unusual for a man to be away for more than a single night; the prisoner was away nearly two weeks—Fisher was taken two or three days after at Sheffield.
JAMES MANLY (Policeman, V. 347) Before 19th August I went to the prisoner's lodging in Blantyre-street—I gave some information to Mr. Corbyn on the night of the 19th—I accompanied Mr. Corbyn and the prisoner to his lodging, and found these lustres.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe there was no furniture in the room? A. No, it had been seized by the man who supplied it, not being paid for.
HANNAH SERGEANT. I live at 22, Blantyre-street, Chelsea—I let the prisoner two rooms—Fisher and he took them between them—the prisoner paid me.
Cross-examined. Q. Did Fisher occupy a portion of the rooms? A. Yes.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution, and MR. METCALFE defended Flannagan.
JOHN BUSHELL . I am a porter at 18, Garlic-hill—on Saturday, 19th August, I was at the Boar's-head, in Cannon-street—I left there at about twenty minutes to eleven—I had been there about twenty minutes—I was at the bar—while there I saw the three prisoners and another man, an accomplice, they were together—the one who is not in custody forced his conversation upon me, he was dressed as a sailor—he said he had been over in America, and was talking about what he had done there—the others took part in it—I can't recollect what they said—they asked me to drink—I rather refused at first—they wanted me to stand a quartern of gin, which I refused three or four times; afterwards thinking a row was about to commence, I paid for one quartern for quietness—they then wanted me to pay for another—I then went out for convenience—the three prisoners followed me out—I had scarcely got a few yards from the house, when the male prisoner came and threw his arms round my neck, and the two females came and rifled my pockets of three half-crowns and a bunch of keys—Flannagan put her hands in my pocket, Carney was on my right hand side assisting the other two in robbing me—the two females then made their escape—the man also got from me—I went up Nicholas-lane and met him there, he was alone—a constable came up, and I charged him with being an accomplice in robbing me of three half-crowns—he said he had nothing at all to do with it—at the station he said, "Did I nail your three half-crowns?"—I said, "No, your accomplices did"—he then said, "All the blame comes upon my shoulders."
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. How long was it before you saw the prisoners again? A. Not till the following Friday—I went to the Mansion-house and saw these two women by themselves in the dock, and identified them—I was positive before the magistrate that Flannagan put her hands in my pocket; I said I thought it was Flannagan; I was certain after
I gave my evidence, I knew her by her features—I had a friend with me on this night, but he was inside the house—I did not talk to him before I became certain of Flannagan—I was not curtain at first, but I was afterwards.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Are you now certain that she is the woman? A. Yes—there was another female with them at the Mansion-house—I saw them first below, not in the dock.
WILLIAM PANTHER . I am a carman in the employ of the Great Western Railway company—I was at the Boar's-head public-house on Saturday, 19th August—I saw Bushel I there; I did not know him—he was drinking at the bar—I saw the male prisoner and Flannagan and another, a short woman, her back was to me and I could not swear to her—I did not see Bushell leave—I suddenly missed him and the prisoners—I had been looking at them five or six minutes—I heard an altorcation about a quartern of gin, which drew my attention to them—as soon as I missed them I went to the door, having suspicion, and saw the male prisoner with his arm round the prosecutor's neck, holding him in a backward position, and Flannagan rifling his pockets—they were some dozen paces from me—the female prisoners both made off and turned into Nicolas-lane—I followed them close up the lane—I heard a bunch of keys drop—I picked them up—when I got to the corner of the lane, I saw the male prisoner in conversation with the prosecutor—I called the assistance of a policeman and pointed him out to him—they had some conversation, and he attempted to get away; he was taken into custody by the assistance of myself and the policeman—I saw Carney about three days afterwards in Thames-street, but I did not give her into custody, because I could not swear to her—I did not see Flannagan again till she was in custody At the Mansion-house—theft were three together in the cells—I picked Flannagan out—I am quite sure of her.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was this? A. From ten to twenty minutes to eleven—I had had a glass of ale, nothing more; I was perfectly sober—I know nothing of these parties, any more than seeing them about London for some years.
SAMUEL CHARLES NORMAN . I was at the Boar's head on Saturday, 19th August, with Bushell—I saw the three prisoners and an accomplice, who is not here—he forced his conversation on us, talking about what glorious deeds he had done in America—he asked me repeatedly to drink, I refused—he asked if I thought he wanted to poison me, and became quarrelsome—Bushell went out, the two females followed, and about half a minute after the male prisoner—I suspected something wrong—the accomplice was trying to keep me in conversation at the bar, but I went out and saw Bushell about fifteen yards off in a stooping posture, and the two females looking about as if for money—I asked Bushell what they had been doing to him; he said they had robbed him of three half-crowns, and the male prisoner had put his arm round his neck and garotted him—I went after the females; they made off.
carney. Q. Did you see me? A. Yes—I gave the officer a description of you both, and the officer said he thought he knew where to find you; and when he took you he asked if you were not the two, and I immediately recognized you.
Cross-examined. Q. Had the women been drinking at all? A. I can't say, they looked as if they had had a little.
Flannagan received a good character.
WILLIAMS GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
CARNEY and FLANNAGAN GUILTY ,— Confined Six Months each.
AUGUSTA RADERMACHHER . I am the wife of Gottlieb Radermacher, of 23, Maddox-street—on 14th September I was in Wardour-street—two persons came up to me and asked the way to some place—the prisoner is one of them—I said I did not know it—they left me—a lady came and spoke to me, in consequence of what she said I looked and missed my pocket-book, containing seven sovereigns, and a letter with two sovereigns, and a Frankford and Prussian bank-note—I ran after them, the prisoner was caught, the other escaped.
ELISABETH KIMPTON . I live at 31, Wardour-street—on 14th September I saw the prosecutrix and two persons speaking to her, the prisoner is one of them—I saw him take something out of her pocket and place it in his own, he touched his companion and they went on—I immediately asked her if she had lost anything, and she said her purse was gone—the prisoner was brought back in about ten minutes.
Prisoner. Q. How do you know me? A. I stood and watched you all the while you were there—I was standing at my own door—I saw your side face first, and when you turned round I saw your full face—you were just in front of my shop.
JAMES ALLISON (Policeman, C. 155) I took the prisoner into custody in Dean-street, Soho—there was a crowd collected round him, the prosecutrix was there and gave him in my charge—I did not find the purse on him—it was brought to the station by a boy a day or two afterward.
JAMES STANLEY . Between eleven and twelve on the evening of 14th September, I found this purse in King's-court, Chapel-street, Soho-square—you would pass that place in going from Wardour-street to Dean-street—I took it home to my father—I did not look to see what was in it—it is as I found it.
MRS. RADERMACHER (re-examined.) This is my purse, the bank-notes are left, but the nine sovereigns are gone.
GUILTY .—He further PLEADED GUILTY** to a previous conviction at Clerkenwell, in October, 1863.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
WILLIAM FROST . I am a sawyer, of 13, Fleet-lane—I sleep in the back parlour, which faces the yard—about one o'clock on the morning of 17th August, I was in bed—I heard something on the roof, and heard something drop—I got out of bed, looked through the window, and saw two men on the top of the back part of our house—they went over our premises on to Mr. Smith's roof—I called my wife to watch while I went for a policeman.
JAMES BLOY (City-policeman 355.) The last witness came to me—I got the assistance of Truscott, another officer, and went to the back of the prosecutor's house—I saw some footmarks on the roof, and traced them to the back kitchen window, which was open.
ROBERT TRUSCOTT (City Policeman, 305.) I went with Bligh to the prosecutor's premiss—Miss Smith came down and opened the street door—I went in and found the two prisoners there—one secreted underneath the
kitchen table, and the other standing in the middle of the kitchen—I asked Edmunds what he did there—he made no reply—I took them to the station and searched them, and found on Edmunds a latch key—they gave no address, or any account of themselves—I returned to the house and found this iron chisel close outside the kitchen window—two panes of glass in the window were broken, so that a person could get their arm to the catch which fastened the window.
Edmunds statement before the Magistrate:—I went there with a different intention to breaking into the house. I went there with the intention of taking some washing which was hanging on the line; being disturbed we hid ourselves in the kitchen.
Edmunds' Defence. The piece of iron was never in our possession; it was merely brought forward by the policeman to make the case look blacker againt us.
EDMUNDS— GUILTY .*— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
DAVIES— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
BRIDGET HARIN . I am a domestic servant at the Trafalgar Hotel, Trafalgar-square—on Sunday, 27th August, which was my day out, I went out in the morning and went to King's-cross to see my sister, and took dinner with her—I was returning home in the evening about eleven o'clock through St. James's-park—the prisoner came up to me and said, "You b——thing, you shall not walk no more," and he struck me violently on the side of the head, which knocked my earring out—he seized me by the throat, but finding he could not get my watch away from me with one hand, he let go of my throat, or I should not have been able to scream, and knocked me down with a second blow and took my watch from me—I was wearing it in my dress pocket—there was a chain attached to it—I screamed very loudly, and a gentleman, and a policeman and a lady, came up to my assistance—the prisoner ran away when I screamed—I followed and gave him into custody—this piece of chain and this earring is mine, and this is the fellow—I have not seen my watch since—this brooch I picked up just where he knocked me down—I was wearing it at the time—my watch was worth 6l., and the gold key and seal 10s.
Prisoner. Q. Was I not in company with you all that day? A. Not at all, that I am aware of—I was with an old lady, and went to give her a glass at a public-house, and you were there—that was about nine o'clock—I don't know the name of the house, it was somewhere in Oxford-street I think; there was another soldier with you—I was not in your company for four hours.
COURT. Q. How long were you in the public house? A. About an hour—the prisoner was there all the time, but I had nothing to say to either of them—the prisoner passed his pot to me, but I put it down—I did not drink with him, I only drank what I ordered for myself and my friend—I did not ask him to drink with me.
the prisoner running from the direction where the young woman was knocked down—a lad named Cullen was running after him—he was out of breath, and told me to follow him—I pursued him through Storey's-gate—he turned into Princes-court and fell down, and I took him into custody as he got up to run away Again—I took him back to the parade and met the prosecutrix, who charged him with stealing her watch—he said nothing—he struggled very violently—two policemen were passing at the time, and they helped me take him to the station, and he bit one of them, named Wood, in the arm.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you begin abusing and ill-using me? A. No; when you bit Wood he hit you in the face to get his arm away.
WILLIAM WOOD (Policeman, A. 126) I was crossing the parade about eleven o'clock on 27th August—I heard a female scream out—I ran to the spot and found the prosecutrix lying on the ground—I assisted in raising her up—I saw a man run away before I got up to her, as soon as I heard her hallo—I did not notice how he was dressed—after raising the prosecutrix I followed the man, and met the last witness bringing the prisoner back—he was very violent, and bit me on the arm, through the coat, and took the skin off.
CORNELIUS CULLEN . I am a lithographic printer, of Charles-street, Pimlico—on Sunday night, 27th August, I was going across St. James's-park, and heard a woman scream—I ran across, and saw the prosecutrix lying on the ground, and the prisoner walking away from her, towards me—he ran away directly he turned the corner—I followed him, and did not lose sight of him till I met the policeman, and told him to follow him—he did so, and brought the prisoner back—I heard the prosecutrix say he had stolen her watch—I dont know whether he made any answer.
COURT. Q. Did you see any other soldier near? A. No; there might have been one or two outside the park, but not inside.
JOHN PENDRILL (Policman, A. 133) I heard of this robbery, and next morning made a search at a spot that was pointed out to me—I there found this earring, broken—there were marks on the ground in two or three places, as though there had been a great scuffle on the Mall.
Prisoners Defence. The prosecutrix was with two soldiers at the time I met with her. She went with me, and then she met a life-guardsman, and went away with him. That was all I saw of her. I started from the Haymarket, and was going home as quick as I could, when I was taken and charged with this.
WILLIAM PENN (a Soldier.) On the night of 27th August, I was coming home down St. Martin's-lane, and met the prisoner and prosecutrix together, opposite the Thistle and Crown—the prisoner asked if I was going home—I said "Yes"—the prosecutrix said, "Will you come and have a drop of ale, soldier?"—I said I had no objection, and we went in and had a pot—we then came out and came to the Shades, in Parliament-street—we went in there and had two more pots of 8d. ale—I then left them and came on home—it was about quarter to eleven when I left them.
AFLRED BLUNT (a Soldier.) On 27th August I went out with the prisoner at ten minutes to six, we went to the Quebec—the prosecutrix, and another female, who she said was her mother, were there, drinking some gin, and she paid for several quarterns for the prisoner and me—she changed a sorereign in that house, and paid for several pots of beer and quarterns of gin—we came out of there and went to the New Inn, at the corner of the Edgware-road, where we had some ale—we came out of there about half-past
eight—we came a little way down Bond-street, and we stayed there while she went to fetch some friends of hers, an elderly woman and a young person, and they accompanied us to the Haymarket—we had two more pots of ale there, and I left them about twenty-five minutes to ten—they were both then partially drunk—they went towards Trafalgar-square, and I went to barracks—I left the prisoner and the prosecutrix, and the three other women, together, at the corner of the Haymarket—one of the females was Mary Ann Stevens, 31, James-street, Oxford-street.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you known the prosecutrix before? A. No; I Was in their company from twenty minutes past seven to twenty-five minutes to ten, in several public-houses—I saw she had a watch.
COURT. Q. Did you see the witness Penn that night? No.
BRIDGET HARREN (Re-examined.) I have heard what these two witnesses have said—I was not in different public-houses that night, except with the female who was with me—I called her my mother—I saw the prisoner in that public-house close upon an hour, and when we came out be followed us about, but I was not aware of it—I changed a sovereign to treat my mother, as I called her—that was at a public-house close on the corner of Oxford—street—I don't know the name of it—I was in another public-house with her, but not where there were soldiers.
GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
THOMAS KIRK . I live at 28, Storey-street, and am in the employ of Mrs. Stratford—on Saturday, 12th August, I and a lad named Cahill were in a cart belonging to my mistress, in Skinner-street, Snow-hill, with three baskets of linen in it—we stopped in Skinner-street to deliver one of the baskets—I got out of the cart, leaving Cahill in it—in consequence of what a woman said to me I looked in the cart, and saw that one of the baskets was gone—I went into Giltspur-street and saw the prisoner with it on his shoulders—I went and caught hold of him—he dropped the basket and tried to get away—I clung to him, and he dragged me across the road, and punched me on the head two or three times—I called "Stop thief," and clung to him till the officer came up and took him.
ELIZA MILLER . I am in the employ of Mary Davis—I made up this basket of linen, which she was employed to wash—I have seen the basket produced, with some of the linen—these are what she had charge of.
WILLIAM ROWLAND (Policeman, 247.) On 12th August I was on duty in West Smithfield—I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and ran into Giltspur-street, and saw Kirk holding—the prisoner by the scarf and crying, and his clothes were all dirty, as if he had been dragged in the mud—he gave the prisoner in charge for stealing the basket of linen—the prisoner said he was employed to carry it to No. 7, Newgate-street—that was quite in an opposite direction to where he was.
Prisoner's Defence. I was on Snow-hill, and saw a man with the basket under his arm, and a parcel in his hand; he asked me to carry the basket to 7, Newgate-street, and told me to wait in Giltspur-street while he went to No. 11, Hosier-lane. The boy came and caught hold of me, and when I looked round for the man, he was not to be found.
GUILTY .**— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS the Defence.
FRANCIS SIDNEY DEACON . I am in a teabroker's house, in Mincing-lane—on Friday, 25th August, about 12 in the day, I was looking in at the window of a picture-shop, in Fenchurch-street—the prisoner was standing on my right, close to me—I felt my watch coming out of my pocket—I looked down, and saw it in the prisoner's hand—it was suspended by a small guard to my button hole—I caught hold of him and detained him.
GUILTY .**— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. BUTLER RIGBY and MOIR the Defence.
LENHARD DINKEL . I am a Baker, of 108, Brick-lane, Bethnal-green—on Monday night, 8tb August, I shut up my house and remained up after all had gone to bed—the windows were shut and the house safe—before I went to bed I called up my men to work—I went to bed about 12 o'clock—about 5 o'clock in the morning I was called by my men—I went directly into the bake-house—from what I heard, I went into the parlour, and saw my till on the floor, quite empty—the previous night it had been on the table, and had in it from 3s. to 5s. and amongst it was sixpennyworth of farthings, separate in the till—the prisoner had been in my service for about five months, and left about five months ago.
Cross-examined. Q. He left to better himself, did he not? A. I don't know, I discharged him—I did not want him any longer—I got home a little before 11 on this night—my wife and two children, a servant, and two men, were living in the house—I am quite sure I fastened up the house myself—I was quite sober—I left the two men up at their work when I went to bed—there were other things missing at the time—I found no marks of violence on the door; it was locked—the key was left in the door—my men told me that they found the door open; it was shut again when I came down—I had not missed money before—I never charged a man named Steel with taking 8l.—I may have asked him about it—my wife left some money on the sideboard one night, and forgot it was there, and found it afterwards, but no one was charged with taking it.
MR. COOPER. Q. Can you form any notion how the robbery was effected? A. I suppose the prisoner had gone in before the house was shut up, and concealed himself, and then got out by opening the door.
WILLIAM EITEL . I am a journeyman in the prosecutor's service—about half-past 8, on this morning, after hearing of the robbery, I missed my watch and chain, a coat, and 16s. in money—I had seen them safe in my box, up in the bed-room at the top of the house, about half-past 9 the night before.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see anything of the prisoner that night. A. No; my box was locked, but the key was in my trowsers' pocket, in the bed-room—I found the box open in the morning—I was in the prosecutor's service when the prisoner was there—he used to sleep in the same room.
GOTTLIEB REIGER . I am in the prosecutor's service—I was in the bake—house, in the morning, when my master came down—I went into the parlour, it was open and the till was on the floor, empty—I missed from a box in my bed-room, a coat, waistcoat, two shirts, and a watch and chain—the box was locked, but the key was left in it—I had seen the things safe the evening before.
Cross-examined. Q. Who first called your attention to the robbery? A. A policeman, who came into the bake-house in the morning—he is not here—I slept in the same room as the last witness.
JOSEPH MCKEEN . I am a tripe-dresser, of 112, Hare-street—I know the prisoner—on the night before this robbery, I saw him pass my shop three times; the last time was about 10 o'clock—the prosecutor's house is just round the corner, two or three yards off.
JOHN BAILEY (Police-sergeant, H 1.) From information I received, on 9th August, at 2 a. m., I went to 23, North-street, St. George's in the East, in company with Sergeant Savage—the house was closed—I knocked at the door; there was an answer, and I asked for William Gieger—the door was immediately bolted, and a female went up stairs and opened the first-floor window, and answered out of there—I raised Savage up, and pushed him into the window—the door was shortly after opened by a man and I was admitted—I went up stairs to the first-floor, and saw Savage holding a man, in his night shirt, not the prisoner—I then went to the bed, and found the prisoner covered over with the clothes—I pulled them off, and asked if his name was Gieger—he said, "Yes"—I told him to get up and dress himself, I wanted him for a robbery at Mr. Dinkel's, in Brick-lane—he said, "I know nothing about it, I was not near the place at all, last night; I can tell you where I was, I was at Charley Wenzell's, in Fieldgate-street, till half-past 12; when I came out from there, I met with a girl, who lives in Bluegate-fields, and I went home with her, and I will tell you the house"—when he had got his clothes on I said, "I must search you, what have you about you?"—he said, "Nothing"—I searched him, and in his left waistcoat pocket I found five farthings—he said, "That is all I have of Mr. Dinkel's"—in his trowsers' pocket I found three halfpence and a threepenny-piece—he said, "That is not Mr. Dinkel's, it is mine"—a woman who was standing at the back of the room, or on the stairs, called out, "You fool, don't say nothing."
Cross-examined. Q. The prisoner speaks English very imperfectly, does he not? A. No; very perfectly; he refused an interpreter at the police court—I could understand every word he said—I am quite sure he said, "That is all the money I have got of Mr. Dinkel's"—it was not, "This is not Mr. Dinkel's money, but my own"—he said that afterwards, with respect to the three halfpence and the threepenny-piece.
GEORGE SAVAGE (Police-sergeant, H. 15) I went with Bailey, and saw him find the five farthings—the prisoner said, "That is all I have of Mr. Dinkel's"—three halfpence and a threepenny-piece was afterwards found in his trowsers' pocket—he said, "That is not Mr. Dinkel's, it is mine"—a woman who was there called out, "You fool."
Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. Yes, four times—I stated this about the farthings at the second examination—I swear that.
CHARLES WENZELL . I keep the Black-horse, Fieldgate-street—I know the prisoner—he was at my house on Monday night, 9th August—he went away between 6 and 7—I am quite sure he was not in the house after 7.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you there all the evening? A. Yes; there were plenty of people there—I was moving about, attending to my business.
Witnesses for the Defence:— HANNAH VOGHT. I live in North-street, Backchurch-lane—I have known the prisoner as long as he has been in London, about two years—he lodged with me one week—he was there on the Sunday before the robbery—he
only had a little money that day—he had some dinner, and he said, "I will go to my friends and fetch some money, and pay you"—he pulled out a couple of farthings, 6d. and a little copper—I can't say how many farthings; three or four—I was in my room when the police came—they knocked at the door—I said, "Who's there?"—they did not say "Police," only "Gieger," "Gieger"—I had a chap sleeping in the parlour from Germany, who had some money, and he said, "Don't open the door, you don't know who is outside"—I went up stairs and looked out, and saw a lot of police, and I directly opened the door, and they came in and found Gieger in bed—they looked him in the pockets, and took out a couple of farthings, a threepenny-piece, and three halfpence, and he said, "That is all the money I have got"—that was all he said—I am quite sure of that.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you say to him, "Hold your tongue?" A. No, not a word—he owed me 2s. rent and one dinner at this time—I am quite sure I did not tell him to hold his tongue—I said to him, in German, "Don't be frightened, when you know you did not do it"—he does not speak English well—we always talked in German.
CHRISTIAN BEHRENS . I know the prisoner—I lodged at Mrs. Voghts'—the prisoner was in my bed asleep, when the officers came, on the night of Tuesday, 8th August—he did not sleep there on the Monday—I saw him on Monday—on the Sunday he had some halfpence and farthings—I saw about three farthings.
JOSEPH VOGHT . I keep the house where the prisoner lodged—he had dinner with me on the Sunday before he was taken—he said he had not money enough to pay for his dinner, but he would borrow some on the Monday from Knoll, and pay then—he only had about 8d. then—I saw 6d. some halfpence, and some farthings;—I can't say how many farthings there were.
The prisoner received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. PATER the Defence.
THOMAS RICHARDS . I am a shipper and packer, at 2, Maiden-lane, Queen—street—the prisoner was a clerk in my employ—he had no authority to endorse cheques payable to my order—I have here a cheque for 2l. 17s. 10d.—I never received that cheque, or the money—I believe the endorsement on it, "T. Richards and Co." to be the prisoner's writing—it was his duty to go round, and receive sums of my customers, and pay them over to me.
Cross-examined. Q. How long was he in your employment? A. Eighteen months—I was not out of town when he received this cheque; I am quite certain of that—his salary was 1l. a-week, and I used to make the clerks a present at stock-taking, if they conducted themselves properly—there was no stated sum—the previous stock-taking had been in August, 1864, the next would not be till the end of this year—he may possibly have received 400l. or 500l. since February; in one instance he received a cheque for 300l. about three months before this—it was a crossed cheque.
ISAAC BENSARD . I am a merchant, of 10, Finsbury-pavement—on 29th February I paid this cheque of 2l. 18s. 7d., on the prosecutor's account—I can't tell to whom I paid it; it was not crossed—I had a receipt—the prisoner did not endorse the cheque in my presence.
Bensard keeps an account there—I paid this cheque over the counter; I don't know to whom; it was then endorsed as it is now.
EDWARD HANCOCK (City Policeman.) I saw the prisoner on 17th August—amongst other things, I said, "Here is an account of 2l. 18s. 7d. received from Mr. Bensard; it has the signature of J. Dunston; did you have that money?"—he said, "Yes, and I used it myself"—I said, "That account was paid by cheque"—I showed him the cheque and the endorsement, and said; "Is that your handwriting?" and he said, "Yes."
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, September 19th 1865.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant,
MESSRS. WARTON and HARRIS conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM GEORGE LE GROS . I am a tobacconist, of 270, Bethnal-green—road—on 24th August, about half-past 10 at night, the prisoner came for 1/2 oz. of tobacco, which came to 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a shilling; I bent it with my teeth, told him it was bad, gave it to him, and took the tobacco back—he said he received it at the docks—he left, and I watched him cross over, join another man, and go into Mr. Wedlake's shop alone—I followed him with a constable, but did not go in—the prisoner came out, and Mr. Wedlake said, "I have a great mind to lock you up; there have been a great many of you gentlemen here lately"—the prisoner said that he did not know it was bad; he had received it at the docks for his day's work—Mr. Wedlake said that he would lock him up, and I seized him, and handed him to the constable—he said that he never saw me, and had not been into my shop.
HENRY WEDLAKE . On 29th August, the prisoner came into my shop for a bottle of ginger-beer, which came to 1d.—he gave me a bad half-crown—my wife bent it in my presence—I told the prisoner I had had a lot of that sort in the shop, and had a good mind to lock him up—he walked out of the shop, and Mr. Le Gros and the policeman came to the door, and gave him in custody—I gave the half-crown to the constable.
JAMES SABEY (Policeman, K 92.) I took the prisoner, and asked him for the shilling—he said, "I never had a shilling; I have never been into the shop"—I found nothing on him—the two shops are fifty or sixty yards apart.
Prisoners Defence. The half-crown was given to me for eight hours' hard work.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. WARTON and HARRIS conducted the Prosecution.
MATILDA SMITH . I am the wife of Henry William Smith, a general dealer, of 18A, High-street, Hoxton—on 6th September, about 8 o'clock in the evening, the prisoner came in for some tea, singar, and coffee; they came to 8d.—she gave me a crown—I put it in the till—there were shillings and six-pences there, but no crown—I gave her the change, and she left—shortly afterwards my husband came in, went to the till, and found the crown was
bad, and took it to the station—I am sure she is the person; she was there ten minutes—I saw her at the station about an hour afterwards.
Prisoner. I do not know either of them.
THOMAS BURROUGHS . I am a boot and shoemaker, of 110, High-street. Hoxton—on 6th September, about 9 at night, the prisoner came in for a pair of child's boots, which came to a shilling—she tendered me a crown—I sent my boy for change; he brought it back, and said that it was bad—the prisoner said that she took it from a gentleman that night—I gave her in custody with the crown.
FREDERICK FIFE (Policeman, N 477.) Mr. Burroughs gave the prisoner into my custody with this crown (produced)—she said that it was given to her by a gentleman—2 1/2 d. was found on her—Mrs. Smith afterwards gave me another crown.
Prisoner's Defence. I was in the shop a quarter of an hour before the boy came back; if I had known it was bad, I should not have gone and looked after him.
GUILTY .—She was further charged with a former conviction of a like offence in April, 1862: to which she
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years Penal Servitude.
MR. WARTON conducted the Prosecution, and MR. DALY the Defence.
WILLIAM WILLICOMB . I am a baker, of 9, Munster-square—on 24th August, between 8 and 9 o'clock, the prisoner came, and asked for two penny tea-cakes—he gave me a shilling—after he left, some one made a communication to me, and I looked into the till, and found the shilling was bad—there was no other shilling there; I put it by itself—on 26th he came again—I knew him directly he asked for two penny tea-cakes—I told him I had none—he asked for two half-penny rolls, and gave me a shilling; I put it in the detector, bent it, and said, "That is a bad one"—I walked round the counter, and said, "I had a bad one from you last Thursday; how do you account for that?"—he said, "I was never in the shop before"—I gave him in custody with the shillings.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you certain he is the man? A. Certain; I knew him before as a customer.
WILLIAM PEARCE (Policeman, S 392.) I took the prisoner, and took this bad shilling off the counter—Mr. Willicomb gave me the other—the prisoner said, "I did not know it was bad"—I searched him, and found a sixpence.
ELIZABETH STUNG . I am the wife of James Stung—about four weeks ago, on a Friday evening, about ten minutes past 10, the prisoner came and asked for 3d. worth of eggs, and gave me a florin—"I gave him the change, and he left—I tried it with my teeth, and found it was bad—I bent it afterwards—about seven weeks ago, on a Saturday afternoon, he came again for 3d. worth of eggs and 2d. worth of shilling coffee—he gave me a florin—I tried it with my teeth, and sounded it, and found it was bad—I said, "I am very sorry I have no change, but I will send a little girl to the public-house to get change"—he said, "I will not trouble you to do that; I am
going to the public-House, and I will bring the change to you"—I gave him back the change, and he left without the eggs or coffee.
Cross-examined. Q. What became of the first florin? A. I put it in the fire—I first found it was bad on the morning after I received it—I kept it on the side-board in the meantime, not in the till—I had frequently seen the prisoner before, and I took a bad shilling, but I cannot say that it was from him—I gave no information to the police when the second shilling was passed, but I told a friend—I gave the second one back to the prisoner, because I was alone, and as I suffer from disease of the heart, I was not in a fit state to say anything to the prisoner, but I knew perfectly well that he was the same man.
COURT. Q. Had you any intention of changing the florin? A. No; I was certain that if he took it to the public-house Mr. Wilton would give him in charge.
The prisoners statement before the Magistrate; "I deny going into the baker's shop before last Saturday morning. I gave him a shilling. I did not know it was bad. I took it in change somewhere."
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
HAMBLETON PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. WARTON and HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and ME. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
MARTHA MUDD . I am barmaid at the Panthillon dining-rooms—on the night of 8th September, Uambleton came there and asked for a glass of ale—he gave me a shilling—I gave him change—I afterwards found the shilling was bad, gave it to Mr. Panthillon, and he followed the prisoner.
ALFRED PANTHILLON . I am the master of these dining-rooms—the last witness handed me a bad shilling, on 8th September—I bit it in three pieces—I then went out and saw the two prisoners opposite my door, talking together, and passing something from one to the other, and in doing so a shilling dropped on the pavement, and the man, I believe, picked it up—they then moved on, and turned down Oxford-street—I followed them to the Pantheon Restaurant—they spoke a few words together, and Babb, as it appeared to me, passed something to the man, and he went in—I tried to make signs to the barmaid outside, and failing to do that I went in and stood by his aide—he threw down a shilling, I spoke to the barmaid, he snatched up the change and ran out—I should say he did not hear what I said—I then followed the prisoners again, and they both went into the Crown, kept by Mr. Jackson—I then spoke to 36C, and told him to follow them, while I went back to the Pantheon Restaurant, and received a bad shilling from the barmaid, which I gave to the policeman at the station.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you believe you saw them passing something to each other? A. I do; their hands were together—they were opposite to each other—Babb had a bag when I took her—she walked on when the man went into the Pantheon Restaurant, towards Tottenham-court-road—I had never seen either of them before.
ELLEN KENNETT . I am barmaid at the Pantheon Restaurant—on Friday night, 8th September, Hambleton came in and asked for a small glass of gin—he put down a new shilling—I saw Mr. Panthillon at the door holding up some money—I gave Hambleton 10d. change—he left the gin, and
ran out of the place—I put the shilling into my pocket—I only had two old shillings there, so I am sure of the shilling—I afterwards gave it up at the station.
SWINSCHO JACKSON —I keep the Crown public-house, Oxford-street—about 7 in the evening of 8th September, the prisoners came to my place together—Babb asked for a bottle of soda-water; she then asked me to give her a shilling for one shilling's worth of coppers, which I did.
EDWIN ROWLATT (Policeman, C 145). On Friday night, 8th September, I took Babb——I noticed her trying to pass something to the man—I seized her right hand, and found two good sixpences, and in her left hand, which was under her shawl, 9s. 9d. in silver, good money—I received a counterfeit shilling from Mr. Panthillon, and another from Miss Kennett.
MR. W. SLEIGH called William Hambleton, the prisoner. I have pleaded guilty to the charge of uttering this counterfeit coin. I was with this woman about two minutes before the first occurrence; I came up against her by accident in Oxford-street I asked her if she would have anything to drink; she said "No." I asked her to wait five minutes, as I had some business to transact, and I went in. I told her I was going to Farley, in Kent, hop-picking, and I would put her in the way of getting a pound if she would come; she did not know that I bad any bad money. She did not know the purpose for which I went into the house; I told her I had business to transact there; she did not know what business it was. She dil not give me any bad money to pass for her.
Cross-examined by MR. WARTON. Q. Had you known her before? A. Yes, for two years and upwards, but I had not seen her for about fifteen months—we were close together; our hands might have met, but they did not—a shilling dropped from me on to the ground, and I picked it up—she did not have any drink at all at these places—I have been to Farley for the last fifteen or sixteen years hopping.
BABB— NOT GUILTY .
MR. WARTON conducted the Prosecution, and MR. PATER the Defence.
SARAH ATHERTON . I am the wife of Henry Atherton, a hosier, of 116, City-road—on 14th July the prisoner came in, and asked for six pennyworth of paper collars—he threw down a half-sovereign, picked it Up again. and said he had smaller change—he then picked out this florin (produced) from some silver and put it on the counter—I rung it, marked it with my teeth, and told him it was bad—he caught it out of my hand—I rapped at the window for my husband; he came—I told him the prisoner refused to pay me with good money—my husband caught bold of his hands and said, "Let me see it"—the prisoner said, "No"—he said that he had taken it in change for a sovereign on the Pavement, and that he would take it back—my husband said, "If that be correct I will go with you and see"—he left the shop, and my husband gave him in charge—my husband is ill.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not the prisoner say he was not aware it was bad? A. He might have—he said I will take it back and will come for the collars another time.
JOSEPH SAVORY (Policman, G 143). On Friday night, 14th July, I saw Mr. Atherton in Bath street, five minutes walk from his own house—he gave the prisoner into my custody with this florin—the prisoner said that he was not a ware it was bad, he took it on Finsbury Pavement—he gave his name William Attwell—lie was taken to Worship-street police-court, remanded, and discharged—I made every inquiry at Finsbury Pavement about him—I found on him a half-sovereign, 13s. and some copper.
RICHARD DORE . I am landlord of the Rose of Denmark public-house—on Friday, 11th August, about 5 in the afternoon, the prisoner came for a glass of cooper, and gave me a shilling—I gave him change, and he left—I put the shilling in the till—in consequence of some communication made to me I looked in the till, and found it was bad—I went outside, and saw the prisoner a little way up the street with a man and a woman—I followed—about three minutes after I saw them in High-street, Hoxton—the prisoner was then by himself, with an umbrella—I spoke to a policeman, and gave him the shilling, and gave the prisoner in charge for passing bad money—the prisoner, said, "City-road, I don't recollect being there, where abouts is it"—at the station he Raid, "I am aware I went into your house, and had a glass of cooper, but I was not aware the shilling was bad; here is the shilling and half-crown to square it."
Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen him before? A. No.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MESSRS WARTON and HARRIS conducted the Prosecution.
MARTHA JANE ROPER . I live with my father at 217, Kentish-town-road—on 17th August, about 9 in the evening, the prisoner came in for quarter of a pound of cheese, which came to 2 1/2 d.—he gave me a florin—I tried it with my teeth, and it bent—my father cut it with a knife, and said to the prisoner, "It is a bad one, have you any more?"—he said, "No"—my father told him not to change it again—he said, "There is no fear of that, it is too much disfigured"—he went away without the cheese, and did not return.
HENRY JOHN ROPER . I am a brother of the last witness—on 17th August I was in the room when she took a florin to my father who cut it—the prisoner left the shop, and I followed him to Mr. Goldsmith's—when he came out, I went in and spoke to Mr. Goldsmith, who showed me a florin—I saw him take hold of the prisoner, and heard more than one coin fall from him.
Prisoner. Q. if I dropped any coins, and you were behind me, how was it you did not pick them up? A. Because it was too dark to see them.
JOSEPH GOLDSMITH . I am a chemist of 4, College-street, north—on 17th August the prisoner came for some linament and ointment, which came to 3d., he gave me a florin—I put it in the till, where there was no other florin, and gave him the change—Roper then came in and spoke to me—I went to the till and took it out directly, went after the prisoner, seized him, and said, "You are the man I want"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "For passing a bad florin in my shop"—he said he did not know it was bad—on the way to the station he put his hand in his pocket, and I heard some Coins
fall, but could not find them—I gave him in custody with the florin, this is it (produced)—the ointment was found on him.
DANIEL COLLINS (Policeman., 444 S) Mr. Goldsmith gave the prisoner into my custody with this florin—I took some ointment, lint, and 1s. 8d. from him—I found 1d. next morning in a garden twenty yards from where he dropped the coins.
Prisoner's Defence. I was not aware that the florin was bad; they disfigured it at the station.
GUILTY .**— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. WARTON and HARRIS Conducted the Prosecution.
JANE VERNON . I am the wife of William Vernon, who keeps the Radley Arms, Old Ford—on 6th September the prisoner came in for a glass of ale, which came to 1 1/2 d., he gave me a crown—I sounded it, it seemed good, and gave him change, two florins, 6d. and 4d. which he put in he pocket and ran out—I then looked at it and found it was bad—there was no other crown near it—Ridley brought book the prisoner and a policeman, to whom I gave the crown.
Prisoner. You put the crown in the till. A. I did not, I never do so.
THOMAS RIDLEY . I am a tea-urn maker, of Milton-place—I was at Mr. Vernon's and saw the prisoner pass the entrance raning—Mrs. Vernon spoke to me—I went out and found the prisoner in a plate where they keep vans—I told him he had passed a bad crown—he said, "Yes, I know it; I worked hard for it and wanted to get rid of it"—I told him if he would give me the good change I would let him go—he said that he had throws it away—I took him back to the house with 54 K.
WILLIAM BURCH (Police-sergeant, K 54). I followed the prisoner to Mr. Vernon's house—he said that he had thrown the change away, and afterwards that he had hid it behind the van where he was found—I went there and found on the axle of the van two florins and fourpence—I did not find a sixpence.
WILLIAM RIPP (Police-sergeant, K 4). I produce a bad crown which I received from Mrs. Yernon—I found on the prisoner 1d., a purse, a tobacco box, and a knife—he said that he was a labourer at St. Katherine's Docks, and when he got to the station he said it was Victoria Docks—he is not known there—he gave no address.
SELINA MADELEY . I am the wife of John Madeley, of Bow—on 6th September the prisoner came for a quarter of a pound of beef, I served him—he offered me a crown; I gave it to my husband to get change—he went out, returned, flung it on the counter, and said that it was bad—the prisoner said that he had worked very hard at the Victoria Docks all day—my husband believed his story and returned it to him to get it changed.
Prisoner's Defence. I worked nearly thirteen hours for it at the Victoria Docks.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, September 20th 1865.
Before Mr. Serjeant Shee.
MESSRS. POLAND and ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. DALY the Defence.
WILLIAM STRETCH (Policeman, A 696). On 19th August, about a quarter past one in the morning, I was on duty in Broad-street, Ratcliff—I saw the prisoner lying against a door, apparently asleep—I saw a common clasp knife lying by his side, shut—I took hold of his arm and asked him to get up—he said b——if he would—I then said, "What does this knife mean lying by your side?"—he said, "b——what is that to you"—I said, "Get up and go away home, you might get robbed"—he then got up and crossed over the road, and then swore again—I found it was no use talking to him any longer, and I said, "If you don't go away now, I shall take you into custody"—he said b——if he would—I then took him into custody—he commenced kicking and struggling—I seized him by the collar—he said several times, "You b——will you let go?"—I said, "No, you are in my custody; I shan't leave you now till I get you to the station"—we then proceeded on for some considerable distance, when all of a sudden he said, "Now you b——will you let me go," and struck me with his right fist on the left side of my head, and knocked me down—I pulled him down on me, and held him till Sharp and Sergeant Procter came to my assistance—I felt as if I was stunned by the blow and the blood flew all down my neck—Procter said to me, "Go to the station, you are stabbed"—I saw Sharp endeavour to take the knife out of the prisoner's hand (it was the same knife that I had seen lying on the pavement)—it was shut, he could not open the prisoner's hand to get it, and was obliged to hit him across the hand with his staff—this is it (produced,) there is blood on it now—I went to the station and had my wound dressed—I have been under the doctor's hands ever since, and have not done a day's duty—the prisoner was drunk.
Cross-examined. Q. When you first saw him he was lying asleep, was he not? A. Apparently asleep; it did not take much to wake him—his eyes were closed—I touched him by the arm and he awoke directly—I have since heard that he is a sailor—we are not allowed to let persons sleep in the street at that hour of the night—I should not have taken him to the station, if he had got up and gone away—I did not notice that his pockets had been turned inside out—he said at the station that he had been robbed—no money was found on him—I saw him put the knife in his pocket after he got up and crossed the road—I did not see him take it out again—when the constable took it from him it was shut—he did not say, "I have been robbed, and you must be a set of roguish b——s"—he did not accuse me of putting my hands into his pockets—I did not whistle for the other con-stable, or spring my rattle, he came up a turning opposite—I took the prisoner by the arm to secure him—I did not give him the professional twist—I know what you mean—I did not twist his arm round mine—he did not say, "Let go my arm, you are breaking it"—nor, "If you don't let go I will strike you"—I fell with the blow, and he fell with me.
MR. ORRIDGE. Q. Did you use more violence than was necessary in taking him? A. I did not, I used none—I merely took him by the arm to lead him to the station as a drunken man—I was in uniform.
JAMES SHARP (Policeman, K 306). On the morning of 19th August, I was on duty in Broad-street, Ratcliff, and saw the prisoner in Stretch's custody—I went to his assistance, turned my light on, and asked what was the matter—Stretch said he had found him asleep, and asked him to get up and he would not, and he said he would take him to the station—whilst I had my light on, he said to me, "You are the b——as robbed me of 5l. odd"——Sergeant Procter came up a few minutes afterwards and said I had better go to the station with him, and I walked a few yards behind him—we had got above one hundred, or one hundred and twenty yards, when I observed him and Stretch having a struggle on the ground—I ran up and saw the prisoner swing his arm round and make a blow with his right hand—Procter came up and said, "He has got a knife in his hand"—I tried to get it from him, but could not, and I drew my staff and hit him three times across the knuckles—the knife dropped on the ground and I picked it up—I saw blood follow the blow he made, it smothered my coat all over.
Cross-examined. Q. You say he swung his arm round, do you mean that he swung it backwards? A. No; he flung it round and caught Stretch across his face in the side of the ear—he did not say that I or Stretch had put our hands in his pockets—a gentleman who lived close by came to the police-court that same morning who had picked up a purse with 3l. in it, near the spot, and the prisoner claimed it—I was not above six or seven yards behind the prisoner and Stretch all the way to the station—Stretch' bad hold of his left arm—I took another knife from the prisoner's pocket, and he said, "That was not the knife that did it"—I stated that before the magistrate.
THOMAS PROCTER (Police-sergeant, K 60). I was on duty on this night, and saw the prisoner taken to the station—I saw him make a blow at Stretch, and blood flowed from it—he was not using any violence to him—he was walking very quietly, and suddenly he said, "If you don't let me go I will give you something," and then the blow was struck—I saw the knife taken from his hand.
DANIEL ROSS . I am a surgeon of 10, Commercial-place—on the morning of 19th August I examined the constable—I found an incised wound on the left side of the left ear, commencing immediately above the external opening of the ear and passing over the cartilage of the ear, nearly dividing the lobe, taking a downward course in a line with the angle of the lower jaw—the wound was fully two inches in length, and half an inch deep—it was within an ace of the large vessels—it was a serious wound.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it an incised wound? A. Yes, a clean cut, not at all jagged; it was caused by some sharp instrument, glass might have done it, any sharp cutting edge—either of these knives would have done it.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:—"I am very sorry that it happened, it was through a drop of drink; I did not know I had a knife in my hand when I struck.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Confined Four Months.
MR. KEMP conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
FREDERICK SMITH . I am a plate-layer, and reside at 6, Hedge-terrace, Notting-hill—I know the prisoner—some time back I lived with her—about 2 o'clock, on the 23d. August, I was near Paddington-green talking with two women—I saw the prisoner there—she stabbed me—before she
stabbed me, she did not say anything to me—she did not give a reason for stabbing me—she merely said, "I have done it for you"—it was done with a pen-knife—I put my hand to my chest, and pulled it out.
Cross-examined. Q. How long had you been living with her? A. About five weeks—I have known her about thirteen months—I met her first at Paddington, and lived with her as man and wife—she was out on the streets at the time—we had been separated about ten months—before this happened we were on very good terms—she did not appear to be drunk—I could not say whether she had anything to drink—she had been in the habit of having something to drink—I had had something to drink with her before during the day—she did not say she wanted to go buck to live with me—we never had any words—when I first knew her, she was in famished lodgings; she sold some things when she went away with me—I did not have the money—the things sold for ten shillings—there was the furniture of a room—I do not believe it realized more than ten shillings—we went into Hampshire—we stayed there about three weeks—I went to work on the line, plate-laying—she stopped in a public-house, and I slept there when I came home at night—we then came to Tunbridge Wells, and there I left her—we parted good friends—I met her in London afterwards—I did not go to see her—I was not drunk on the day she stabbed me—I was laid up nearly three weeks with this wound—I did not stop in the hospital all the time.
SOPHIA WELLS . I reside at 23, Suffolk-street—I was present when this took place—I did not see the stabbing—I heard the prosecutor cry out, and say, "I am stabbed; I am a ruined man"—I saw some blood on his shirt, under the left side.
Cross-examined. Q. Were there any girls besides yourself? A. Yes, another female—she is here—we had been talking to the prosecutor just before—I saw the prisoner there—there was no man with her—she was drunk—the man was not.
NOT GUILTY .
858. JAMES BELLS (46), PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully and carnally knowing and abusing Elizabeth Cheek, a girl between ten and twelve years of age.— Confined Twelve Months. There was another indictment against the prisoner for a rape on the same child; upon which, MR. ORRIDGE, for the prosecution, offered no evidence.
DLALY conducted the prosecution and MR. WARTON the defence.
ROLINE MORLAND I live at 5, Nelson-Street, Stepney—the deceased was my father—he was about forty-seven years of age, and was a rigger—on Monday, 24th July, I saw him when he went out to work—he seemed very well then—he had had bronchitis last Easter very badly, and was in the London Hospital—he came home to tea about 7 o'clock—he was sober—he went out between 7 and 8—I saw him again that night, when I ran out in consequence of what I heard, and found him lying on the ground at the top of Nelson-street, Stepney—he said his leg was broken—he was taken to the hospital.
JOSEPHBENTON I keep the Market-house beer shop, Bull-lane, Stepney—on 24th July, the deceased came in with two other men, and had a pot of half-and-half—the prisoner came in about a quarter of an hour after—they never spoke together—the prisoner had a pint of half-Crown half with two other young men; he then went outside—his father went out about five
minutes afterwards with a young man, a rigger—they were talking together—the prisoner came in, and got another pot of half-and-half, took it outside, and handed it to one of five or six young men standing there—he was using very bad language at the time—he then handed the pot to the young man who was with his father—he said, "No, Dick; I would rather not; and I wish you would not use such bad language"—he said, "Oh, d—it, drink," and he just sipped out of it—the prisoner then handed it to his father—he said, "No, I will not drink with you while you go on these games, and keep such bad company"—then they came to words—his father said, "You will he glad to come home to me, Dick, when you can't get anything to do"—one word brought up another, and his father struck him—they then set to fighting—they had one round, and he threw his father—I can't say how, but his father was underneath—they were taken up, and they had another round, and he caught hold of his father's legs, and threw him in the road—there was a lot of chaps there—they took them up again, and they had another round, and he threw his father on the ground again by the two legs—I heard him cry out, "My leg is broken"—I stepped across the road, and the prisoner ran away—a truck was brought, and the deceased was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. Q. Did this take place near your house? A. Yes, in the road—I was standing on the threshold of my door; I could not leave, as I had nobody in the house—the deceased was quite sober—the prisoner was tipsy—I did not hear any one cheering them on; there was a lot of the prisoners companions there.
FREDERICK ANDREWS . I am a carpenter at Stepney—I was coming by, and saw the prisoner and deceased struggling together; at last the prisoner threw him, his leg was under him, and he said, "My leg is broken, take me to the hospital"—I picked him up, and took him to the hospital.
NATHANIEL HECKFORD . I saw the deceased at the hospital—he came under my care after his leg had been amputated—I can't say when he was admitted—Mr. Welland had the care of him at first—he is now out of towm—I did not see him before the amputation was performed—I do not, of my own knowledge, know what it was performed for—he died on 3rd September, from the effect of the amputation.
MR. WARTON submitted that there was no case for the Jury, in the absence of the surgeon to show that the amputation was necessary or proper.
MR. JUSTICE SHEE being of opinion that there was no evidence to show that death resulted from any act of the prisoner, the Jury found a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, September 20th, 1865.
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
JAMES GILES . I am a shoemaker, of 37, Tullery-street, Shoreditch—I first knew the prisoner ten or twelve years ago as a male—she gave me the name of William Smith, and came as a clicker, or cutter out of boots and
shoes—I paid her regular wages, the same as the men working in the same capacity—I had no idea that she was not a man—I believe she held herself out as a married man, but I do not know that I pointedly put the question—a woman named Caroline lived with her—I knew her on and off for nine years—in January 1863, my first wife was taken ill, and I asked the prisoner, who was then in my employ, to allow his wife to come and nurse her, which Caroline did, and remained till my wife died, after which she remained as my housekeeper, and then became my wife—it was from that that I learned the sex of the prisoner—I had an interview with the prisoner and her brother, and advised her to make the necessary change—she admitted that she was a woman when charged with it, and I gave her some money and some of my late wife's clothing—I also took a retail shop for her at Bow, at 20s. a week, free of gas—she remained there till October, 1864, about thirteen months—when I found the shop did not answer, I let it and discharged her, giving her 10s. a week, till it amounted to 5l.—she visited me, and was on friendly terms with my wife and myself—at the time I gave up my shop I saw that she was placed in respectable apartments, and acted to her like a brother—she continued on friendly terms with me till July—I know her writing—I received this letter on 12th June—it is in her writing—Read. "38, Grafton-street, June 12,-65.—Sir,—I have been thinking of our quarrel, but you were the cause, and not Caroline. I know she would come and see me often, but you keep her away, and she is very submissive, and you do not care how hard she slaves, like some poor drudge of a servant. If you loved her you would not allow it, in her declining state of health. Since you have had her you have broke her spirit. If the dinner is not ready to a minute, look at the agitated state she is in, frightened almost to death. As I told you last Sunday, I am the woman for spirit, and you held my arms till they were black and blue the other day. Sir, I am still inclined to come to terms, to save any more bother or further trouble, as you know what I mean—the affair between you and me that has taken place at Bow. The best thing you can do is to supply me with a few pounds, and I will go to New Zealand, and then you will be rid of those you have acted so wrong to. I must have an answer to this. Tell Caroline to bring or send me a few shillings. I will pay her again. This is not her fault, but yours, sir. Remember. P. S.—Sir, I want the answer" (no signature)—In consequence of this I instructed my solicitor to write a letter to her—this letter, written by the prisoner to my foreman, was given to me on Saturday 24th June—Read. "June 23rd, 1865. Respected sir,—I hope you will furnish me with the information I require, that is to tell me the exact road or place where Mr. Giles takes his evening walk, and the time that he can be seen or met on such place, as I want to know particular; hoping, sir, you are quite" well and all at home. Please to write an answer by return of post, and I shall feel obliged. Direct Miss S. Geals, 38, Grafton-street, Mile End"—On 17th July, about a quarter or twenty minutes to eight in the evening, the prisoner came to the first loop hole, when I was seeing my work-people—it is where we give work out—she asked my foreman for me in my hearing—I went from the door leading from the first shop into the passage, and found the prisoner at the second door—I was partly inside and partly out—I said, "Well Sarah, what is your pleasure with me?"—she made no reply, but presented a pistol in my face, and said, "That"—I heard the explosion of the cap, and felt a slight concussion on my left cheek bone—she threw the pistol through the first loop hole, where she had applied for me, and ran out—my foreman
afterwards handed it to me, and I drew the charge in the officer's presence—it consisted of three pieces of paper, powder, and four bullets.
COURT. Q. In what order were they? A. The paper was at the top, the powder next, and the bullets at the bottom—I really cannot swear which was put into the pistol first, but these were the contents.
MR. WARNER SLEIGH . Q. Do I understand you to say you pulled out the paper first? A. Yes, with an awl—I put it in and drew out three pieces of paper, and then I turned the pistol up and the contents came out, powder and four shots—they all came out together—it would be very difficult for any gentleman to say which came out first—I went to the station and preferred this charge at a quarter to twelve the same night.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know how long the prisoner has been passing to the world as a man? A. Not of my own knowledge, but from what I have heard 17 or 18 years; five or six years before I knew her—I always found her strictly honest—Caroline is the woman who she represented as her wife; she is now my wife—she was living with the prisoner at the time, but I very seldom saw her—they lived in a small house, not in lodgings—I never went there and saw them together, but I have met them in the street—it was generally believed that they were man and wife—I knew nothing of their private affairs, or whether they lived comfortably together—I never heard anything to the contrary—I always found the prisoner honest, but she was of an excitable temper—she had been with me a few weeks when my wife was taken ill—my wife died in the beginning of January—Caroline was not in the habit of coming to the house till my wife wanted further assistance—I then asked the prisoner to allow Caroline to come to my wife—I very seldom saw Caroline before that, but I proposed for her to wait on my wife, because it was handy and she could come at once—she waited on my wife two or three days—it was three months after my wife's death that Caroline communicated to me the prisoner's sex—Caroline remained with me in the day time after my wife's death, but went home at night—I do not know how she came to communicate the prisoner's sex—I married her four months afterwards, this time twelve months—I communicated with the prisoner before I married Caroline—Caroline had told the prisoner that she had revealed the secret—I have heard two or three reasons for the prisoner's extraordinary conduct—she placed a paper in my hands stating that she really was a female.
Q. Was it stated to you by others that the cause of this extraordinary conduct was a disappointment in marriage in early life? A. That is just what I was going to explain—I have no reason to suspect that her mind is affected, but she is of an excitable disposition—she changed her attire about six weeks before our marriage—she and her brother were the only two persons present at our marriage—I took a place for her in September, 1863—I had been married a very short time then—I have been married thirteen months now—my wife and I visited her on Sundays, and I have been there on Sunday mornings to make the books up—we continued to visit her—the business did not prosper—I gave her 5l. in different sums—she very seldom drank after separating from Caroline—the least drink she bad made her eccentric in her conduct—I supplied her with this pistol (producing another) for her protection when she lived in that house alone, and when the shop was let I took it away—I brought it here in my waistcoat pocket, as I did not know whether it might be required—she kept it loaded at times—I do not know whether she used it constantly; she has been in the habit of using fire-arms, I understand, from a child—my wife was standing by my side
when the pistol was discharged—the prisoner had never left off visiting us; she was there on Sunday, and used to dine with us, and remain all day—I think June 10th was the last time she visited at our place, when she stayed three or four hours, and went away early in the afternoon—she did not dine with us that day; there was a little disturbance between her and my wife that morning, but I was out—the affair of the pistol happened as quickly as I describe it—there is no doubt the cap exploded; and it is in this paper now—I think the lock was out of order—she was living at 38, Grafton-street, Mile-end—I paid her the whole of the 5l., and lent her money afterwards—I do not know whether she had been drinking more frequently than site had been in the habit of doing—I once reprimanded her for drinking, knowing that it excited her—I do not know whether my wife has written to her since she has been in prison—this letter (produced) is not my wife's, but the prisoner's brother's writing.
MR. WARNER SLEIGH . Q. Were you in the habit of going to the shop once a week on business? A. Once or twice—there has never been any improper intimacy between us—I have never had cause to believe that the prisoner was not in her right mind or insane, but she is of a very excitable, passionate disposition.
WILLIAM WILKS . I have been foreman to Mr. Giles for the last five years—I had not the slightest suspicion that the prisoner was not a man—I heard her come through the passage to the loop-hole on 17th July; she asked if Mr. Giles was within—I said, "Yes"—I heard Mr. Gilds ask her what her pleasure was with him—she held the pistol to his face—I heard something explode, and saw a slight flash—the charge was drawn in my presence; there were two or three pieces of paper at the top, after that were bullets, and at the bottom was powder—I was in Court while Mr. Giles gave his evidence about unloading the pistol.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear him say that he took the paper out first, then the powder, and then the bullets? A. Yes; that is not correct—the policeman and the errand boy were also present—the prosecutor drew the charge in the shop—I was near him; it was then between half-past 8 and 9—it wan dark, because the shop was closed—I first saw him take the pieces of paper out, then he gave the pistol a shake, and the bullets came out; he shook it again, and a piece of paper came out, and then the powder—I know the powder was loose in the barrel, because I saw it fall out—the other pieces of paper that came out were little bits screwed up, and put in—he took the paper out with an awl—he did not fish down several times; he put it in, and the paper came out—whether he put it in more than once, I cannot say, but I should say he pulled it out at once—he did not put the awl down two or three times, I am sure of that—it was a sharp-pointed awl, straight-pointed—these two or three pieces of paper came out together.
COURT. Q. Have you been accustomed to fire-arms? A. No.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the charge drawn? A. No.
JOHN ENNIS (Policeman, N 175). On 17th July the prosecutor sent for me, and drew the charge from the pistol in my presence; ho put an awl down, and took out a piece of paper, and after that there came four bullets, then another piece of paper was taken out, and then the powder came—I was not in Court while Wilks gave evidence about drawing the charge—I accompanied him to 38, Grafton street, Mile-end, remained there a short time, and
took the prisoner in custody—I asked her if the knew the charge against her—she said yes, and was quite satisfied to come to any place with me—I took her to the station.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear Mr. Giles give his evidence? A. No; I handed up the powder—I heard the first part of his evidence—I heard him say that he pulled out the pieces of paper first, then the powder, and then the bullets—that was not correct—the bullets came next to the paper, then some more paper, and then the powder—after the paper was taken out, the bullets rolled out, but not the powder too—there was some more paper first—there is enough powder here to propel these four bullets—there is nothing wrong about the pistol—after the bullets came out Mr. Giles put the awl in again to get the paper out—he put the awl down once or twice.
ALFRED CLOSE . I am fifteen years old, and am in Mr. Giles's employment—on 17th August I went for a policeman, and overtook the prisoner on the road—she said, "Go it, Alf; fetch a policeman, and give me in charge.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined at the police-court? A. No; I was there.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY on the Second Count — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. CARTER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
GEORGE HARRIS . I am a bricklayer, of 1, Chiltern-view-terrace, near Uxbridge—I have seen this plan (produced)—this is a mill; the Leet, a stream of water, runs along here, and there is a footpath by the Bide of it—here is the high-road from West Drayton going towards Uxbridge—the little girl, Elizabeth Lydia Bacheller, was my niece; she had been staying with me six weeks; she came down for a change, and was shortly expected to be taken back again—she was four years old and a few days—on 21st August I had been working at Langlcy-park, and was coming home at quarter or half-past 7—she has several times come out to meet me—I know the prisoner; he lives in Uxbridge, and is a dealer in old clothes—he keeps a pony and cart—as I crossed the high-road, I heard a horse and cart coming from West Drayton towards Uxbridge—I looked round, and saw the prisoner driving it as fast as the pony could gallop—it was a large pony, and the prisoner was flogging it—he was very near to me—from the place where I saw him it is an open straight road, and is twenty-four or twenty-five feet broad at the nearest part, at the end of the terraee—he passed about two strides from me—Messer was walking with me, and I said, 'Out of the way; here they come flogging away,' and put my arm out as a guard, by which means we both avoided it, and the cart went behind us—I immediately looked round, and saw the horse's legs just striking the child, which threw her on her back, and the off-wheel passed over the lower part of her neck or chest—from the near-side of the cart was about fourteen or fifteen feet—he was near the middle of the road, but, if anything, deviating to the off-side—I saw nothing else on the road; he had the whole command of the road—it was quite light; I do not know whether the sun had set—Messer picked the child up—it never moved afterwards—I did not know at the time that it was the child that was stopping at my house—I saw the prisoner, two or three minutes afterwards, coming with his cart—a man was sitting with him, and there were two children behind—the prisoner was drunk—the child had been in very good health; never better.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you draw the prisoner's attention to your friend and yourself? A. No—he did not pull the rein to get out of our way: he went on straight—we were not meeting the cart—we were crossing the road—he was going towards the tavern—as we crossed the road I saw the prisoner coming on my right hand—we quickened our pace two or three steps to get out of his way—we said nothing to him—there is one flight of steps common to all the houses on the terrace, which is elevated from the road—there are piers to each house—a person coming out of No. 1 would walk along the terrace to the steps, and down the steps into the road—this was Drayton race day—the road is twenty-four feet ten inches wide at the terrace, and where the accident occurred it is wider.
MR. CARTER. Q. Had you to get out of the way to save yourself? A. Yes.
JOSEPH MESSER . I am a plumber—I was with Mr. Howard, and heard a horse and cart coining at a tremendous rate—the horse was galloping, and the man was flogging it—I had some difficulty to get out of the way, and Mr. Howard gave me a push—the road is straight for 200 or 300 yards at that spot—there is another crossing close by the tavern to go to Uxbridge New Town—I did not see the child before the horse struck it: which doubled it up, and the wheel went over it—I picked it up, but it never moved: blood poured out of its mouth and nose and one eye—I held it in my arms till the prisoner came back—he seemed beerey, but my attention was upon the child—I have measured the road: it is eighteen feet from the near side of the road to where the wheel of his cart was—the road is twenty-four feet wide.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there any vehicle going in the opposite direction? A. Not one—the prisoner has been much distressed since—the first I saw of the child was the horses' fore-legs striking it—I have known the prisoner fourteen or fifteen years, and know nothing against him—he has a family—I describe him as beerey—I did not see many people coming from the races.
ELLEN THORPE . I live at 4, Chiltern-view Villas—I know the deceased—I was standing on the steps leading from the terrace into the road at a quarter to 7 o'clock, and saw her go out from Mr. Howard's house—she crossed the road towards the footpath on the opposite side, which she reached, and walked along the kerb till she got to some railings, and then she got on the path—I then saw Mr. Howard coming from the Mill-road with Mr. Messer—the child turned back a little way and then she attempted to cross in the same direction that her uncle was crossing—I then saw the prisoner in his cart coming in a direction from Corley, very fast, and saw the horse strike the child with one of his legs, knock her down, and the wheel went over her chest or throat—the prisoner was flogging the horse—I saw the child picked up.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Mr. Howard? A. Not till afterwards, but I saw him before the child crossed the road—the child did not leave the footpath till her uncle had crossed—she went back a little way, and then got on the path, which is four inches elevated—she was picked up eighteen feet from the footway—I saw her going as quick as she could, Attracted by the sight of her uncle, and in a minute the cart went over her—I knew her—I live next door but one—when I saw her danger I called out, but could not stop her.
MR. CARTER. Q. Was the aunt standing at the door watching the child across the road? A. Yes—there was no or horse to cause danger till
the prisoner came along flogging his horse—if he had been in the middle of the road he would not have caught the child.
THOMAS LANE . I am a gardener, of Uxbridge—on the evening of 21st August, I was in my master's yard at Corley—I heard a noise, went out into the road, and saw the prisoner driving towards Chiltern-view-terrace, as fast as he could—he was whipping the horse—I lost sight of him at the bend of the lane—he was nearly half a mile from Mr. Howard's house, and was then whipping his horse—it was not a large horse or a small pony.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it a very old pony? A. I do not know its age or its worth.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose he was very drunk? A. Well, he was recovering from drink then—it was as much as ever he did to know what he was doing—he expressed no regret at what had happened—he only said, "All right," when I told him the charge.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BISSENDINE . I am a carman—on 11th August, between 11 and 12 in the day, I was in Pudding-lane, and saw the prisoner and deceased standing up a court—they were both porters about the market—the deceased was trying to get away from the prisoner, and at last he managed to get away—the prisoner kept pushing him as if he wished to keep him back, but Cooper got away, and came out into Pudding-lane, and went towards Thames-street—the prisoner followed him, went across Thames-street, and caught Cooper by the coat, and pushed him—they both fell; Cooper undermost—they got up again, and the prisoner got hold of Cooper by the neck and chest, and threw him on the pavement stones, just by the gateway—the prisoner said nothing at first, but afterwards he said, "You b——; I will be the death of you"—Cooper became insensible—he never spoke or moved till he was lifted up, and then the prisoner went into a public-house, got some cold water, bathed his head, and assisted to get him into a cab——he got into the cab with him, but the policeman took him out again and took him to the station—he had been drinking, but could walk—Cooper was perfectly sober—I knew both of them before—I saw no larking—Cooper's name was William Samuel.
Prisoner. I do not recollect seeing any of the witnesses.
COURT. Q. You say that you saw the deceased trying to get away from the prisoner, had one hold of the other at that time? A. The prisoner was trying to stop him from coming out of the court, as if he wished to detain him, but I heard no conversation—the prisoner appeared to be drunk—I saw no blows struck on either side, it was the fall that caused the death, I believe.
JAMES BLACKMAN . I am a warehouseman in the employ of Adams and Co., of Pudding-lane—I knew Cooper, and saw him come out of Pudding-lane, and cross Thames-street—there was a horse and cart there, and the prisoner ran round the horse's head, took hold of Cooper by the breast, ran him backwards about six yards, and he fell on the back part of his head against the kerb——he was obliged to fall by the force he was going backwards—I did not hear anything said in consequence of the rattling of the carts—I ran for assistance, and when I came back they lifted him on to the pavement
—I said to the prisoner, "You have done something now, you have nearly killed the man or quite"—he said, "What do you know about it? What have you to do with it?"—I did not speak to him again—he was in liquor—Cooper was sober.
GEORGE BARFIELD (City-policeman, 555). I saw the deceased on the ground in Thames-street, and went with him to the hospital—I took the prisoner in custody; he said, "I know I did it, we had been drinking together all the morning, and I did it in a lark."
THOMAS MEDLEY . I am a fellowship porter—I saw the prisoner catch hold of Cooper by the neck-tie in Pudding-lane, before they got into Thames-street, and he kicked at the deceased, and said, "Take that"—it was not very violent—the deceased said, "Now I will lock you up"—they then went into Thames-street, and I saw Cooper on the ground insensible.
HENRY COWLEY . On 11th August I was house-surgeon at Guy's hospital—Cooper was brought there about half-past twelve, insensible, and bleeding from a wound at the back of his head—towards night he became partially conscious, and about ten o'clock he appeared conscious—I was called to him, about one o'clock in the morning, as he had become suddenly worse, and he died—I made a post-mortem examination; the only bruise was on the back of his head—I found a very considerable fracture of the skull, from which death was caused by pressure of blood on the brain.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:—"All I have got to say is, I was very much in liquor that morning; I owed the man no animosity.
Prisoners Defence. I never intended to injure the man, and do not recollect throwing him down. I have known him a good many years, and lived next door to him for three years. I walked backwards and forwards with him, and never insulted him; he was a man of 13 stone; we both fell together, and I might have met with the same death.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. M. WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COOPER the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, September 20th, 1865.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLINS the Defence.
HENRY JEFFERY . I am a builder, and live at 57, Gloucester-street, Pimlico—about four on the afternoon of 29th August, I was walking along Victoria-street from the Abbey—I turned down Strutton-ground, and then turned back and went along Victoria-street—a man came up to my right side and seized my Albert watch chain—he tore it with great violence from my person, severing it from the watch—I saw it in his left hand—I laid hold of his coat, and got him against the fence—I had my umbrella in my left hand, and not being able to hold him with both hands, I let go with my right, and he struck me very violently in the face, just above my mouth; it removed the skin and blood came from it; after that he got away—I followed down Strutton-ground, calling "Stop thief!"—he fell on the kerbstone, and then he went down Pear-street, which leads into Duck-lane—I don't
swear to the prisoner being the man, but I have not the slightest hesitation in saying be is the man—there was a man standing at the entrance to Pear-street, apparently trying to cover this man's retreat—I was prevented from going down there in Consequence of this man closing up the passage again I which he had made for the man through the posts—lost my gold chain, a seal and a key, worth about 7l.—I was perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. Q. Were there many people about in Struttonground? A. I should say a large number at the time—I did not see any person close to me at the moment; it is rather a rough neighbourhood—I hesitated at first about saying the prisoner was the man—I was shown several people the same day at the police cell, among whom was the prisoner—I picked out another man; it was a man much like him—I think there were six men—I altered my opinion when my attention was more drawn to the prisoner—my attention was drawn to the other man by his smiling at me, as if he recognised me when I went in—I did not notice the prisoner at that time—I had not time to see the man well who assaulted me, it was so quickly done.
MR. LANGFORD. Q. Have you any doubt about this being the man? A. I have not—he is the man who fell down.
ALFRED NEWTON . I live with my father and work at a photographer's—on the afternoon of 29th August, between three and four, I was in Struttonground—I saw the prisoner all of a sadden, he came running across the road and fell down—I looked at him, and then I saw Mr. Jeffery calling, "Stop thief!"—the prisoner got up and ran away between some posts in Pear-street—there were one or two men there, and they let him go by, and then stopped up the passage again, and stood in the prosecutor's way—I gave a description of the man to the police—I believe the prisoner to be the man.
Cross-examined. Q. You would not like to undertake to swear that he is the man? A. No; I believe he is—I was not quite certain before, at the police-office—I have not seen him since that—the man I saw fall down was dressed in brown clothes, and a round hat, something like a wide-a-wake—I was about a yard from him when he fell down—he was not an instant on the ground—I only saw the side of his face.
JOHN WILLIAMS . I am quartermaster of the commissariat staff, and live at 38, Sussex-street, Pimlico—on the afternoon of 29th August, about four, I was passing across Viotoria-street, and saw the prosecutor running after a man, calling out, "Stop thief!"—as the man got by the kerb he fell down his features turned full at me, and I looked at him—I could not run myself—the prisoner is the man; it was near the posts that he fell down.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you at the first examination before the magistrate? A. No; this occurred on Tuesday—I first thought it was Monday till I referred—I sprained my ancle that day—there were very few people about for the locality—I could not say exactly how many; there were two men belonging to the railway just close to the posts, they were dressed ill something of a uniform, fustian dresses—I believe they stood still—I was only looking at the man—Mr. Jeffery took his watch out of his pocket, and said, "Thank God, he has not got my watch"—the man fell in front of the posts, I can't say exactly how far from them—I was about twenty yards from him—he ran fast until he fell, and when he got up he ran very last again—I caught a full view of his face when he fell—I had never seen him before—he got up as Boon as he possibly could—I did not take notice how he was dressed.
JANE YOUNG . I am the wife of Charles Young, of 12, Cottage-place Westminster—on the afternoon of Tuesday, 29th August, after four, I was near Strutton-ground, and saw the prisoner running, and the prosecutor after him, calling, "Stop thief!"—he went down Pear-street, the prosecutor went to the top and then turned round and said, "Thank God, he has not got my watch," and I saw that the prosecutor's mouth was bleeding—I went down Victoria-street, saw a policeman, and told him the gentleman had been robbed—I am positive the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. How long did you see him? A. A minute or two—I stood at the turning where the posts are—I did not see two railway porters—I did not Bee the man fall down—he was dressed in dark clothes—I had never seen him before to my knowledge—I was not taken to the police-station to identify the prisoner—I saw him first in the yard—the policeman asked me, if I could see any one I knew, and I looked round the yard, and said, "Oh, there is the man who took the gentleman's watch"—he was not running very fast at the time I first saw him.
HENRY CLARK . I am a shoemaker, at 20, Strutton-ground, at the corner of Pear-street, where the posts are—on the afternoon of 29th August, about 4, I heard a cry of, "Stop thief"—I went to the door, and saw the prisoner pulling himself away from a boy, and he ran down Pear-street—Mr. Jeffrey was pursuing him—the prisoner said to the boy, "Get away, you b——fool, and let me go"—that boy was not Newton—they were on the edge of the pavement—I am sure the prisoner is the man—I had seen him repeatedly about the neighbourhood.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know of the robbery at the time? A. No, I did not—I was in a shop—I did not see the two railway porters standing at these posts—I did not see Mrs. Young—I only went to the door of my shop—I was hardly a yard from the prisoner when he tried to get through the posts—my shop is at the side of the posts—he seemed to be disengaging himself from the boy—he soon got away—it was only a momentary sight I had of him—the prosecutor was about four yards from him—he went no farther than the posts—I did not see the prisoner fall—I must have gone to the door as he got up.
EDMUND BUCKLEY (Police-sergeant, B 17). I went before the the Grand Jury yesterday—the witness, Ann Taylor, has been confined since yesterday—on 29th August, soon after 4, I was at the police-station, and Mr. Jeffery and Newton came, and gave me some information—at 9 o'clock, the next morning, I took the prisoner in Old Pie-street—I said "Mike, where were you yesterday afternoon, about 4 o'clock"—he said, "I was indoors"—I said, "I think you are wanted, for stealing a chain from a gentleman in Victoria-street"—he said, "It was not me, I was not there; I will go along; I with you"—as we went along, he again said that he had not done it, and that he could prove where he was at the time—some man came up and spoke to him at the time—I said, "I don't know that it is you, I will give you a a fair chance; before any of them see you, you shall be placed along with others"—I brought him to the station, and he was there identified by the witnesses—I found a black mark on his right knee, which appeared to be a fresh bruise—he said that it was caused by varicose veins, and that it had been there three or four days—I said, "If it had, it would begin to turn yellow."
Cross-examined. Q. Have you seen his knee since? No; it was on the inside of the knee, where the veins are.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ELLEN HASTINGS . I am the wife of John Hastings, and live at 6, Old Pie-street—I am the prisoner's sister—on Tuesday afternoon, the 29th August, I was with him indoors, in New Pie-street—I went there from a quarter to twenty minutes to 4—he asked if I would have some tea, and I did—he was sitting down talking to a man, who was making artificial flowers—he went out into the yard after tea, and picked up some stones and began playing with them—I left his house about half-past 4, and went home—I am quite sure that from quarter to 4, until half-past, he was not out of the house.
Cross-examined by MR. LANGFORD. Q. You live at 6, Old Pie-street? A. Yes; my brother lives at 6, New Pie-street, one street leads into the other—I very often used to go to his house—we had tea in the kitchen—it is a lodging-house—only my brother had tea with me—there was another man in the room, the flower man—nobody else—we were about half-an-hour having tea—I have no children living—my husband was in the country—there were people coming in and out of the kitchen, but I did not take notice of them—I think there was a woman there.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. Yes, this took place about three weeks or a month ago—the name of the flower man is Henry Govus.
HENRY GOVUS . I am a modeller and paper planner, and make artificial flowers—on Tuesday, 29th August, I was at 6, Pie-street—I saw the last witness, sitting having tea with the prisoner—I was modelling flowers at the same table in the kitchen—it must have been as near 4 as possible—I bad been engaged in making flowers the whole of the day—I stop in one day, and sell them the next—the prisoner was in the kitchen the most of the day—he was there in the afternoon—I should say from 3 to 5—I am positive he was there about 3—after they had their tea, I saw him in the yard, playing at five-stones—I was close to the window, and I made the remark, how childish it was for a man to play with stones—I cannot say whether it was before or after tea that he was playing.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know these posts? A. Yes, they are about 300 yards from my lodgings, as near as I can judge—there is no clock in the kitchen, but we can hear the clock at the House of Lords—the deputylandlord was out drinking most of that day—his nickname is Yorkey—his proper name is Ross—no one had tea with the prisoner and his sister—there was another woman who went for a red herring for the prisoner while they were at tea, and he said, she was gone to Yarmouth to fetch it—she was gone, I dare say, a quarter of an hour—I do not remember whether it was cooked—I think they had finished their tea before it came.
COURT. Q. Did you ever see the prisoner and his sister having tea there before together? A. Yes, three or four times—I had lodged there two weeks—the prisoner had been there about a week, I think—I do not know whether they had tea together the day before—I was not there on the Monday or the Sunday—I might have seen them on the Saturday—I was at the house when the prisoner was taken next morning—Yorkey told me that the man who was living there had been taken away by Sergeant Buckley—he did not say what for—I was asked, by his sister and several more, if I remembered him being in the kitchen on the Tuesday, and I called my recollection together, and said I did—at the police-station, I asked what
time he was charged with committing the robbery, and I was told; I knew the day and the time before I heard the depositions read.
GUILTY .**— Five Years Penal Servitude.
MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE FREDERICK GARTENFIELD . I am a waiter at the Civil Service Club, St. James's-street—on Friday, 18th August, about half-past 11 at night, I went with Richard King into a public-house in Little James-street—the prisoner was there, quarrelling with another man—I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself, because he was going to strike this man, who was very old, between sixty and seventy—the prisoner made no answer, but went outside—I left about half a minute after, and when I got outside he struck me with a knife—I did not know he had a knife in his hand—I thought it was his fist—he struck at my breast—I put my arm up, and the knife went into my elbow, and came out at the top—he then ran away—my coat was cut open, and the blood was running very fast—the knife went in right through the muscle, about seven or eight inches—I ran after the prisoner, and when I caught him, I struck him several times—I gave him into custody—I had no quarrel with him before I left the public-house.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you speak to me after you left the public-house? A. No; you struck me as soon as I came out—I did not strike at you first—I had never seen you before—I do not think you had any animosity against me.
COURT. Q. Was he sober? A. He had been drinking—he knew what he was about.
RICHARD KING . I am waiter at the Civil Service Club, and I was with the last witness on the 18th August, in this public-house—the prisoner and another man were having some words—he called the man a liar three or four times, and wanted to fight him, and the prosecutor said, "You ought to be ashamed of yourself," and the prisoner told him to mind his own business—the prisoner then went out of the public-house; directly we got outside I saw him strike the prosecutor—not a word was said to him out-side before he struck him—I never struck at the prisoner at all—the prosecutor did after he had stabbed him—I followed him, and gave him into custody—he said that he was very sorry for it.
COURT. Q. Did you see any weapon? Q. I did not; it was taken from him at the station.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say it was advisable to take the prosecutor to the hospital? A. Yes, you said something of that sort.
JOHN PADDOCK . I was a constable on the 18th August—I am not now—the prisoner was given into my charge—he said he was very sorry for it; he had got his knife out to clean his pipe out—this is the knife (produced)—there is blood on the blade—he gave it up at the station.
Prisoner. Q. Did I give up a pipe also? A. Yes, you had a pipe; it was filled with dirty tobacco—it had not been scraped out—I did not hear you ask the constable to take the prosecutor to the hospital.
GEORGE FREDERICK GARTENFIELD (re-examined.) I had my arm sewn up at the hospital—I came back again to the station the same night—I have been several times to the hospital since to have my arm attended to; it is not quite well—the blow was aimed at my chest—I lost a great deal of blood.
The prisoners statement before the Magistrate read;—"I and my friend had a few words outside the public-house, and the prosecutor and his friend came in and interfered; I told him to go away and mind his own business, and he struck me twice in the face—I had a knife in my hand, and struck at him in self defence."
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Confined Six Months.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LANGFORD the Defence..
THOMAS HUBBLE . I am gaoler at the Mansion House justice-room—on Saturday afternoon, 2d September, about half-past 1, I was on duty adjoining the prison cells; a Mrs. Burrows came into the passage to make some inquiry of me—I asked her to go to the bottom, and I would speak to her—when I opened the door to answer her, I saw the prisoner there, pressing against Mrs. Burrows very rudely—I said, "What are you about?"—he made no reply, but walked out of the passage into the street—I then spoke to Mrs. Burrows, and from something she told me, I followed the prisoner—I lost sight of him for a minute or so, but when I got outside the door, I saw him about twenty yards off, just stepping up to another man—he moved his hand towards him, but did not pass anything—I caught hold of him, and said, "I charge you with stealing a watch from a lady in the passage"—he said, "I do not know anything about it; I have not done it"—I took him back into the passage—there was another female sitting down there on a form, and he placed his hand in her lap; the moment his band left the lap, I saw this watch (produced)—it is wrenched off from the swivel—I gave him into the custody of the officer Curtis.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he stoop down at all? A. He made a slight stoop, not sufficient for him to pick it from off the ground—the woman is not here that I took the watch from.
MARY ANNE BURROWS . I am the wife of William Burrows, of 35, Brittania-street, City-road—on 2d September, I was at the police cells at the Mansion House in the passage—I had this watch then—my name is on the back of it—it was on my side, attached by a swivel to a chain—I saw the prisoner in the passage—he passed me, and pushed very roughly against me—Hubble spoke to me, and then I missed my watch, and said, "That man has my watch"—the officer brought the prisoner back.
JOHN CURTIS (City-policeman, 543.) About half-past 1 on this Saturday, I was in a room at the Mansion House—I heard the lady say something to Hubble, and he went out and brought back the prisoner—just as he got inside the door, I saw him put something in a woman's lap who was sitting there, and saw Hubble take it up—it was this watch—I took hold of the prisoner—he said, "Let me go; the lady will not press the charge; she has got her watch"—I then took him to the station.
The prisoner's statement he fore the Magistate: "I will admit the case."
GUILTY .—He also PLEADED GUILTY to a former conviction of felony in March, 1862.**— Seven Years Penal Servitude.
MR. TAYLOR conducted the Prosecution.
WALTER JAMES GORDON . I live at 13, Kirby-street, Hatton-garden, and am a stationer—the prisoner and the prosecutor live at 34, Baldwin's-gardens—on the morning of 23d August, about a quarter-past 1, I was in bed with the prosecutor in his house—I heard the prisoner come home—he had some words with his wife, and suddenly he called out, "I will stand no more of this; I will have your b——liver out"—he then smashed the panel of the door, and the prosecutor got up, and pushed the washing-stand against the door, and put on his trousers—the prisoner was outside, threatening him, and said, "Come out, you b——counter-jumper"—the door was then forced open, and the prosecutor and the prisoner rushed on to one another—a terrific struggle took place, and they both fell to the ground—the prosecutor then got up, and went down stairs to fetch a constable, and came up again bleeding from the neck—I did not see any blood when he went down—he said to me, "He has tried to cut my throat"—the prisoner was then standing outside his door—I think he could hear it—I saw a gash upon the prosecutor's neck at the time—he fainted, and was taken to the hospital—the constable came up, and the prisoner was given in charge—the constable picked up these two knives (produced) from, the, Boor of the room—I did not see either of them in the prisoner's hand.
COURT. Q. Does the prisoner's wife live with him in the room opposite? A. Yes, the next room—I was staying with the prosecutor for two or three days—my mother was out of town—I had heard rows in the prisoner's room before this; cries of "Murder" in the night, and the children crying—I do not think the prisoner and the prosecutor ever spoke to one another all the time they were there—the prosecutor was never in the prisoner's room with his wife.
ALFRED SHOEL . I live at 34, Baldwin's Gardens, and am a barometermaker—the prisoner lives in the same house—on the morning of 23rd August, after I had gone to bed, I heard the prisoner return home to his room, and heard him and his wife quarrelling, and she screamed out—he then came to my door and said, "You b——counter-jumper, are you there, come out, I will have your b——liver out"—the panel of the door was then split through in the middle—I called to my mother to light a candle—I got up, put a wash-stand to the door, and my mother held it while I put on my trousers and boots—the door was then pushed in, the prisoner came in, and we met and struggled together—he rushed towards me, I saw him coming, and we closed and fought—we fell in the struggle, he was under me—I felt several blows, but I did not feel stabbed—I felt a tightness of the muscles when I fell, and then felt blood—I thought there was something wrong, and ran down for a policeman—he came up stairs with me—I saw him pick up the knives, and then I fainted—I am quite positive I had no wound when this struggle began—my shirt was drenched with blood—I never saw these knives before—I had never spoken to the prisoner before in my life—he and his wife used to quarrel frequently—I believed he was going to attack me when he came into the room.
Prisoner. Q. Can you swear that you saw any knife in my hand? A. No; the candle was only just lighted, and I could not see.
COURT. Q. Had you any weapon in your hand? A. No; I had one wound in my neck, one on my breast, and one on my arm—the knives were picked up just on the spot where we were struggling.
evidence against him—I took him to the hospital first to have his arm dressed, which was cut—on the way to the station, he said, "I contemplate this job two hours before; I do not care what becomes of myself, it is all through my wife's drunken habits"—he was the worse for liquor, and his wife was very drunk indeed—it appears that this has all occurred through the prosecutor calling the prisoner's daughter a prostitute, on the Saturday night previous.
COURT. Q. You say the prisoner had a wound? A. Yes—I think as he fell be must have cut himself by the broken crockery of the washhand-stand—the wound was on the left arm.
JOHN TURNER (Policeman, G 157). I was on duty in Baldwin's Gardens on this night—about half-past 1 I heard a noise at 34, in the second floor front—I heard the prisoner making a great disturbance—he said, "Give me a knife, give me a knife, I will do for the b——counter-jumper"—he said that several times—the children said, "Don't, father, don't"—he said, "I will not have my daughter called a prostitute by such a b——as him"—directly after that I heard a noise of the smashing of a panel of a door, and I heard "Murder" cried—I tried to burst open the street door—while I was trying it, the prosecutor came to the door covered with blood—he said, "For God's sake come up stairs, for I am being murdered"—I went up, and met the prisoner on the landing, opposite the prosecutor's door—I told him he was charged with cutting and wounding the prosecutor—he said, "It is all right, I will go with you quiet"—on turning on my lamp in the room, I saw a knife lying on the floor, by the washhand-stand, covered with blood—this is it—on a further search I found this other knife on the landing, by the prosecutor's room—that also had spots of blood upon it—I asked the prisoner if they were his knives—he said, "Yes"—he said, "It is all right, it is all through my wife and daughter this has occurred"—I took the prosecutor to the hospital.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you take that knife off the table in my room—A. No—I heard every word you said from the outside—it is of continual occurrence—I have been called there twenty times.
ALEXANDER BUSBY . I am surgeon at the Royal Free Hospital, Gray's-inn-road—about a quarter to 2, on the morning of the 23rd August, the prosecutor was brought there by the policeman—I found him weak and faint from loss of blood—he had a wound at the back of his neck, on the left side, rather more than an inch long, and about half an inch in, depth—one in the left shoulder about half an inch long, and about, the same depth, and also a slight scratch on the left arm—this knife might have caused either of the wounds—he is well now.
Prisoner's Defence. This prosecutor called my daughter a prostitute—she told me and my wife of it. I sent to him and he would not come out. The next day he met my wife, and threatened to kick her down stairs; and on this night I called him to come out if he was a man; two of them rushed on to me, and knocked me down like a bullock, and his mother came out and hit me with a jug, and made a wound on my hand; and then the prosecutor hit me again, and I took this knife up in self defence. I consider I have been most brutally treated he him.
ALFRED SHOEL (re-examined.) On the Saturday night before this happened, I was returning home with Gordon, and saw the prisoner's daughter with a blackguard fellow in Leather-lane, as I was passing she said that she would like to poke her finger in my eye—I asked her why, and she called me every name she could lay her tongue to, and I called her a nasty dirty b——h,
and Gordon said, "Come on, and do not talk to her"—the prisoner was not knocked down or assaulted by anybody—my mother did not hit him with a jug, there was not one there.
WALTER JAMES GORDON (re-examined.) I was in bed when this assault began—I did not get up till after it began—the prisoner was not knocked down on the landing—I never went out of the room till I went with the prosecutor to the hospital.
GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
869. HENRY HUGHES (57) , to stealing a box of instruments and other articles of Henry George Warren, his master.— To enter into his own recognizances to appear when called upon; [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] and
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, September 20th, 1865.
Before Mr. Recorder.
No evidence was offered.— NOT GUILTY .
After hearing MR. LILLEY for the Prosecution, the COURT was of opinion that there was no attempt to conceal.—NOT GUILTY .
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
JOSEPH NEWMAN (Policeman, H 146). On the morning of the 17th of August I was on duty in Well-street, Whitechapel—the prisoner was fighting with another man, and there was a crowd round them—the other man came to me and told me that prisoner had assaulted him—while I was speaking to him the prisoner ran at me with a knife in his hand saying, "You b——, I will give it you if you come near me"—this is the knife (produced)—I hit him on the right arm, and knocked it out of his hand—the prisoner picked it up, and was coming at me again—I caught hold of him, and threw him on the pavement, and with the assistance of another young man took the knife away—he did not cut me.
Cross-examined. Q. You say there was a crowd of people, how many do you call a crowd? A. I should say there were fifty—I cannot tell what the other man said to me—while he was speaking to me the prisoner rushed at me—I never said anything about the young man helping me at the police-court—I do not know why the man the prisoner assaulted is not here to day—the prisoner said they were all robbers, and he had been imposed upon very much.
GUILTY Of a common assault. — Confined Three Days.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLINS the Defence.
MARY ANN ALLISON . I am the prisoner's wife, and lived at No. 24, Baldwin-street, City-road—on Wednesday evening, between 10 and 11, I went home with him—he asked me if I would go to Queensland with him—I said if he had been a kind and affectionate husband, I might have gone—when we got home I was about to light a candle, and he came behind me—I thought he was going to kiss me—he threw me on the floor, and a struggle followed—I felt something like a knife about my throat—I screamed and ran down stairs—my landlady caught me in her arms in the passage—I have been married to the prisoner four years and seven months—two nights before this he said he should like to cut my throat, and his own after—on the night this happened I had been to my sister's house, and the prisoner called for me—he had been drinking, I believe—there was a young man Darned Barnett there—the prisoner had not said anything to me about him before—the prisoner had frequently ill-used me—on the Friday before, he punched me in the mouth, because I went home rather late.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not the prisoner very much annoyed about Barnett? A. Coming home he said, "Do you like this young man," I said "No;" he said, "Will you swear that?" and I said, "Yes"—the quarrels we had were not about Barnett—he has recently come from America—I have seen him several times, but he has never visited me at my house—I cannot say how many times I have seen him—he had been away to America six years—my mother has employed the attorney to prosecute in this case.
GEORGE EADES (Police-sergeant, G 17). About a quarter past eleven on the night of the 30th of August, I was passing through Bath-street—I saw two men leading the prosecutrix—she was bleeding at the neck—from what I heard I went to 24, Baldwin-street, and found the prisoner sitting down at the foot of the stairs—he was sober and crying—I told him I had come to apprehend him for cutting his wife's throat—he said, "She did part of it herself"—there was some blood upon his hands—I went up to the second floor, and there found a small pool of blood—there was also blood upon the skirting-board and paper—I found the knife produced on the left hand side of the fire-place—it had blood upon it—on the way to the station the prisoner said it was all her own fault, she had been away from him five nights, and he thought she was intimate with a man named Barnett, who had recently come from America, and that he had found her at her sister's house, in Duke-street, Spitalfields, in company with Barnett—he said she had told him that she should leave him and go and live with Barnett—he said he did not intend to hurt her, only to frighten her—he has been out of work six weeks.
Cross-examined. Q. He was greatly excited, was he not? A. Yes, and was crying.
MATILDA DAVIS . I am the wife of Henry Davis, a baker, and reside at 24, Baldwin-street, City-road—the prisoner and his wife lodged with me—between 10 and 11 on the night of the 30th of August, I heard a scream—my husband ran up stairs and forced open the door—Mrs. Allison ran out, and I caught her in my arms—she asked me to take her to the doctor's—blood was upon her face and neck—two young men assisted, and we took her to the doctor's.
Cross-examined. Q. When you got back, did you see the prisoner? A.
I saw the prisoner with two policemen—he was crying and in a very excited state.
WILLIAM SOLLAN ECCLES . I am one of the house surgeons at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—the prosecutrix was brought there on the 30th of August—she was bleeding from two wounds, one on the left side of the lower lip, about an inch and a half long, dividing the main artery of the lip, and another wound five inches long, extending nearly across the neck, about two and a half inches of which were deep, and one of the main veins of the neck was divided—she lost a great deal of blood—I found also a slight wound on one of her fingers—she was in danger of her life—this knife produced would produce such wounds—she is out of danger now.
HENRY DAVIS . I am a baker, and live at 24, Baldwin-street, City-road,—on the night of the 31st August, I heard screaming in my house—I ran up stairs and found the prisoner's door fastened—I burst it open, and the prisoner tried to get out, but I would not let him, and said, "You shall not come out of this place until I see the result."
MRS. DAVIS (recalled.) The prisoner has been lodging in my house three 1 weeks and two days.
COURT. Q. Have there been any quarrels since they have been with you? A. I have not heard any—I live on the first floor and they on the second—I remember the prosecutrix being out two nights; but I do not know what nights.
GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude ,
No evidence was offered.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
MARTHA SEAGER . I live at 57, Conduit-street, Regent-street, and keep a lodging-house—the prisoner entered my service on the 6th of May last—she left on the following Tuesday morning, which I think was on the 9th—I called her that morning a little before 6 o'clock—I went down stain about twenty minutes to 8, expecting to find breakfast, but the prisoner had gone—she had not told me she was going—I then missed several things that I had left in the room the night before—an umbrella, table cloths, shifts, and stockings, worth about 30s.—I had no other stranger in my house—there was only a lady and her daughter, from Manchester, staying with me.
COURT. Q. When did you see the prisoner again? A. A policeman came to me and I identified her at Wandsworth.
Prisoners Defence. I can only say that I never saw any of the things the lady says she has lost; I know nothing of them at all.
NOT GUILTY .
PLEADED GUILTY .*— Confined Eighteen Months.
BAKER— PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined One Month.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM PERKINS . I live at Limehouse, and am foreman to Messrs. Abbott, Gun-lane, Limehouse—on the evening of the 11th September I sent Baker with a cart load of grains to North Woolwich—I told him to take them oh to the marshes for Messrs. Abbott's, cows—he had no authority to sell any—I have seen Bryant before—he has nothing to do with my master's cows—the grains were worth 8d. per bushel—a boy named Prudence went with him.
THOMAS COLLIER (Policeman, K 74.) On the evening of the 11th of this month, about half-past 7, I was on duty in North Woolwich-road—I saw two carts standing there; one was laden with grains and the other with sawdust—I saw Baker and another boy on the cart laden with grains—Baker had a shovel in his hand, and was putting grains into a sack—the cart containing the sawdust had got Bryant's name on it—the sack of grains was taken to the back of Bryant's cart by himself—another man helped to lift them on his back—I heard Bryant say, "That will do," and he left—I spoke to Baker, and gave him into the custody of another policeman—I followed Bryant, and overtook him—i told him I should take him into custody for receiving grains, well knowing them to have been stolen—he became very violent, and I had a great difficulty in getting him to the station—I returned to the place where the carts had stood, and there found a quantity of grains shot down by a brick wall.
EDWARD PRUDENCE . I live with my parents, in Gun-lane, Limehouse—lam in the service of Messrs. Abbott—on the evening of the 11th September, I went with Baker to North Woolwich—when in the Woolwich-road a sawdust cart came up to us, driven by Bryant—Bryant asked Baker if he would sell him twopenny-worth of grains—Baker said, "I don't mind"—Bryant held the sack, and Baker put grains in untill Bryant said, "That will do"—he took the sack away, but I did not see where he put them.
BRYANT, GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY:
OLD COURT.—Thursday, September 21st, 1865.
Before Mr. Justice Shee.
MR. WARTON conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM ANDREWS . I am a tailor, of 523, New Oxford-street—I live on the premises—the prisoner was in my service as errand-boy—while he was with me I have missed portions of my stock—on 6th August I met him with a silk handkerchief of mine round his neck—I should have discharged him at the time, but my foreman was absent, I gave him notice to leave on the following Saturday—on the Tuesday morning I put a bill in the window for another boy—within half-an-hour of doing so I noticed a strong smell of burning—I went down stairs to see, and asked the prisoner if anything was burning—he said, "No"—I went into the kitchen, and saw that a portion of the dresser had been burnt, some five or six inches square, the edge was still in a burning state; red, not in a flame but smouldering—it had burnt right into the wood; he had evidently extinguished the flame, hearing me coming down—I said, "You have been attempting to set fire to the house"—he said, "No, I have not"—I said, "You must leave at once; just finish your window"—when be bad finished his window-cleaning, he came down stairs and was going into the back kitchen; I said, "What are you going there for?"—he said, "I am going to get my coat and hat to leave"—I said, "I don't think I shall let you go until I know something more about this fire; you know you did it out of malice, because I gave you notice to leave"—he said, "I know I did"—I said, "How did you do it?"—he said, "With a piece of paper."
Prisoner. He said if I did not acknowledge it he would lock me tip—Witness: I did not—I made him no promise or threat whatever—he had been four months with me—I did not know his parents till after this occurrence.
JOHN BARBER (Policeman, E 42.) On 8th August I took the prisoner into custody at the prosecutor's house—I saw a dresser in the basement, and saw a place in it about six inches in diameter that had evidently been burnt—it was out when I saw it, but quite hot—the prosecutor charged the prisoner with setting fire to it—he said, "Yes, I did; I did it because you were going to send me away and get another boy."
COURT. Q. What time of day was this? A. About twelve o'clock in the day—the part that was burnt was at the side; it was a place where, if it had not been observed, it would easily have flamed up and done his chief.
JURY. Q. Did the prosecutor, in your presence, threaten the boy to give him in charge if he did not confess to setting fire to the dresser? A. No—I saw no paper about—I did not observe any drawers to the dresser.
GUILTY on Second count—Recommended to mercy on account of his youth — Confined Six Days and whipped.
MESSRS. POLAND and ORRIDGE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLINS
undertook the Defence, at the request of the Court.
JOHN HUMPHREYS , Esq. I am coroner for the Eastern division of the County of Middlesex—I held an inquest on this child, Joseph Stack—the prisoners were both examined before me—the female prisoner gave her name as Ann Stack—I have the notes that I took of their examination, neither
of them were signed; they had been committed by the magistrate before the time came for completing the deposition—they were both sworn and examined in the usual way—(read: Ann StAck's examination—"I am the wife of Edward Stack—my son Joseph was three weeks old on Monday last I left home at three in the afternoon, my husband had left a quarter of an hour before me—he went to have a drop of beer at the Prince-of Wales—I went there to him—I left deceased in bed; he was ill—no doctor attended him, I thought him too young—I left another son seven or eight to mind the place, and a daughter four years old—I did not lock the door—I met Rawley and White—I did not tell them that, deceased was dead—I came back in half-an-hour; not sober, under the influence of drink—I have three children alive out of six—my husband earns from 15s. to 20s. a week and sometimes more." Edvard Stack's examination:—"I am father of the deceased—I left work and home at three on Monday, and went to the Prince of Wales—I remained there until dark, about eight—I heard the door was burst open and went to see about it—I was sober when I left home, but had been drinking a little—I was worse than my wife for liquor—when she followed me, I did not know she was there till near dark, she was drinking there—I was the worse for liquor when I left—I left deceased in bed—a Mrs. O'Shaugnessy had the child just before I left, and said deceased was dead, and put it in the bed—she left with me, and we left deceased in the mother's care—suckled up to last week—she could not then suckle it, it was too weak and ill, and I expected it to die—there was no doctor, none saw it since its birth—I told Mr. rawley that our youngster was off, meaning the deceased; I thought he was dead—this was as I passed his window in the morning—my wife and I quarrelled at the public-house—I was most drunk—I have lived in the same house four or five months—before that I lived at 1, King's—head-court, Long-alley."
JOHN ALLENSON . I am a surgeon of No. 1, Norton Folgate—about half-put six, on the evening of 28th August, I was called to No. 6, Little Pearl-street, Spitalfields—I went to the front room, first floor—the door was fastened, how I do not know—I pushed it open and went in, and found a child lying on the bed—it was apparently about eighteen days old—its face was covered over with a coverlid—it was apparently in a dying state—there was no one else in the room—the only sign of life I saw about it was when I took hold of its hand, there was a slight contraction, of the fingers—it had a night-dress on—I remained in the room from five to ten minutes—when I left it was still alive—I did not leave until I saw the parents, some one went for them—I saw the male prisoner come in; he was the worse for liquor—I asked him if any medical man had been in attendance on the child—he said, "No, not since the day after its birth"—I told him I could not give him a certificate of the cause of death, the child was in a dying state, I could do nothing for it—I heard some one muttering behind me, and he "aid, "I beg your pardon, sir, take no notice; of her, she is the worse for drink"—I supposed it to be his wife, but I did not turn round to look—I then left—on the following afternoon I received an order from the coroner, and on the Wednesday morning, the 30th, I went to the same room about half-past seven o'clock—I there found the same child lying dead; the two prisoners were also in the room and three other children—I desired them to leave while I made the examination—they did so—the male prisoner regained and one of the children, a young child who could take no notice—I then proceeded to make a post-mortem, examination, Mr. Dukes assisted me
—it was very much emaciated—on opening the body I found all the organs in a perfect state of health; the stomach and intestines were perfectly empty—the large intestines were very much contracted, showing that they had been empty for some considerable time; the bladder was also empty—the kidneys were healthy, but imperfectly developed—the mesenteric glands were slightly enlarged—from all I observed my opinion was that the child died from inanition, from want of food—I saw no sign whatever of any disease that would account for death—I should say the child had not received any food for two or three days at least—it was a full-grown child, of the full period—on the 1st of September, that was two days afterwards, I examined the mother's breast, and found the presence of milk in a small quantity—there was sufficient to show that milk bad been present, indications of there having been milk previously—if a child is not suckled the milk will disappear—there are other sorts of food that might be administered to a child of that age—I found no disease about the woman, or anything to prevent her suckling the child—the weight of a full-grown child of that age, healthy and properly nourished, would be from nine to ten pounds—I weighed this child by order of the coroner, and it weighed exactly three pounds, with its night-dress—there were no marks of violence upon it of any kind.
Cross-examined. Q. What sort of a room was this? A. A large, airy room with two windows—there was not much furniture; it presented an appearance of poverty, not very great poverty; not more than is usual in the neighbourhood; it is a poor neighbourhood—when I first went into the room there was a thin coverlid over the child's face—that would not affect life in any way—I did not take the child up in my arms, I merely examined it—I touched its hand and it moved—I was there two or three minutes examining it, sufficient to satisfy me—I took no steps to prolong its life, because it was impossible in my opinion to have done so—I left it there—there were several other persons in the room besides the prisoners when I left, several came in—I thought it impossible it could recover—I took no steps to save its life, because it was just dead; as nearly dead as possible; no power whatever could have restored it—the movement of its hand was the only sign of life—I give it as my opinion that no food had been given to the child for two or three days—if it had a small quantity of food and thrown it up again, that would account for none being found in the stomach; from my examination I should say none had passed into the stomach; I do not say none had been given—there was not the slightest evidence of any having been there—a child in a weakly state would be likely to throw up food, if it disagreed with him—it is a fact that some weakly children refuse the breast—other food would then have to be supplied—farinaceous food would have to be supplied—there are a variety of preparations, corn flour and other things—they require to be carefully prepared.
COURT. Q. What food is there, that would be within the fair reach of persons in the prisoners' condition of life? A. They could get arrowroot—the parish authorities would grant anything that was ordered by a medical man.
MR. COLLINS. Q. But to make arrowroot even, requires some care and skill? A. It requires a little care, it does not require skill—it does not always follow that a child, born of parents who are given to drink, would be weakly, nor generally; it does occasionally—in all probability, if the parent was an habitual drinker of gin, it would make the child more weakly than it otherwise would be—the average weight of a child of that age, would be about nine or ten pounds—this child was eighteen days old—some healthy days old—some healthy
children weigh less and some a great deal more—I have never, myself, weighed a child of that age and found it less—I did not attend the mother when the child was bora, nor see it before at all.
JURY. Q. You say the kidneys were imperfectly developed, was that from disease? A. No, the kidneys are very often imperfectly developed in a child of that age—Rawley came for me—I can't say how the room door was fastened—I did not break it open, I merely put my hand and pushed it open—if a child is examined very shortly after it has taken food, and thrown it up again, you would find some traces of it; it is never all entirely thrown up—I think I should find traces of it four or five hours afterwards—the child is said to have died at 10 o'clock, that same evening—the covering over its face was just carelessly thrown on, as it is generally put over little children that are dead—it was laid in bed, with its head on the pillow, and the clothes just put over it, as you will generally find when babies are put to bed; not in a careless, negligent way, as if they did not care what became of the child.
Q. Seeing that the child lived three hours and a half after you saw it, do you not think, if some food or stimulant had been given to it, it might have recovered or revived? A. Decidedly not.
COURT. Q. Are there no modes of introducing food into the system, although the child may not be strong enough to suckle? Q. Tea, there are modes, but when a child is in articulo mortis, nothing can be done for it—at the time I saw this child, there was nothing that could have been done for it to restore it—it was, in my opinion, an utterly hopeless case—it was clean, kept as a child of that age should be—when I say traces of food would be found five or six hours afterwards, that is only an opinion—I have not made a great many post-mortem examinations; I have made many where there has been no occasion to look to that—the milk of an habitual drunkard might produce irritation and so cause the stomach to reject it—it would be very bad milk to sustain and nourish a child—many children die from the corrupt and vitiated milk of drunken mothers—from what I saw of the child it must have been much too weak to extract milk from the breast, for some few days—it was weaker than most children are that are just born.
PROPHET DUKES . I am a surgeon, of 182, Brick-lane, Spitalfields—on Wednesday, 30th August, I assisted Mr. Allenson in making the post mortem examination—I should say it was a full period child—it was very emaciated—there were no external marks of violence—there were marks of fleas all over it—internally all the organs were healthy; there was some little malformation about the kidneys—I should say the child died from exhaustion from want of food—there was no trace of any about the stomach or intestines—the intestines were also very much contracted, showing the absence and want of food—I think it had been without food some days—I saw nothing in the appearance of any of the organs to account for death.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you think it possible, that to an inexperienced eye, the child might, through weakness, present the appearance of being dead, some hours before it really was dead? A. Yes, I should think so—I have seen some children in so very low a state, as to be to all appearance dead for some hours before death—there was no trace of food at all—if it rejected food there would be very little trace of it—the intestines being contracted in the way they were, led me to believe that the child had been without food some days—I mean that no food had passed into the intestines—I can't say it had not received food on the day it died—I can only say none
had passed into the intestines—a weakly child will constantly throw up its food—if unable to take the breast, and other food be administered, it will very often throw it up, but with experienced attendance that can generally be alleviated and relieved—I think, as a medical man, I could relieve it—the malformation of the kidneys had nothing whatever to do with the state of the body.
COURT. Q. In the ordinary course of things, the mother's milk and nothing else, would be food enough for a child of that age? A. Quite sufficient; the best food it could have—it might be so vitiated by habitual drunkenness, that the child would derive no nourishment from it, and regularly throw a great quantity of it up—in all probability the child was born weakly, the mother being given to drink, and it would be supplied with the worst possible milk for its growth and strength—if milk is thrown up you can generally trace it within two or three hours—you might, or might not, trace it within six hours; I think it is doubtful; it would depend a good deal on the quality of the milk—as a rule it would leave some slight trace—I can't form an opinion, as to how many days it had been without food.
SARAH RACHEL MOYES . I am a midwife, and live at 6, Wood-street, Spitalfields—I attended the female prisoner during her confinement—the child was born on 10th August—I did not deliver her, it was born before I arrived—I was sent for, to attend to her, immediately afterwards—I did what was necessary—I did not send for a doctor, it was not requisite—I was paid by the parish—when I attend any person in a confinement, I have to report to the doctor, and he visits the second day—I reported the birth of his child to Mr. Keen, the parish doctor, and he went to see her the next day—I continued my attendance to the fourth or fifth day—it was an average weight child, I suppose about seven or eight pounds—it was perfectly healthy when I left—I don't know whether it had been suckled in that time—the mother made no complaint to me respecting the breast—I saw no food given to it—Mr. Stack said they were badly off, and bad no clothes for the infant, and I told him they had better go down to the house and get some—they did go, and they got some—I think they also got some arrow-root—Mrs. Stack said the child had come earlier than she expected, and that was her reason for having no clothing for it—I thought the child had arrived at the full period of gestation—it had every appearance of it—I have had considerable experience, for nearly 25 years—it would have been my duty, if the child was not going on properly, to send the doctor to attend—I saw not the slightest necessity for doing so—I had no reason to suppose it would not live.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you stay in the house during the first four or five days? A. Certainly not—I attend professionally, and only pay professional visits—I pay two visits; the first on the second day, to ascertain if the mother and child are progressing favourably, and I go again on the fourth or fifth day—if no nurse is provided, I make a practice of stripping the child myself to wash and dress it—I do not go again unless sent for—the child was fully delivered when I first arrived—the umbilical cord was severed and tied, but I tied it again, I thought it was not secure enough to be left—I gave the child to its mother—she received it as a mother should do—I thought she appeared fond of it—if I had thought anything was amiss, I should have called again, or told the medical officer—I attend to a large number of children, sometimes about seventy in a month—my time is fully occupied,
JURY. Q. Do you mean that there was absolutely no provision of any kind in the way of clothing? A. None whatever—I saw the child on my last visit, and dressed it in a set of clothes supplied from the workhouse—it appeared perfectly healthy then.
CATHERINE CLIFTON . I was eleven years old the first of last month—I lived in the same house with the prisoners, 6, Little Pearl-street—they have a little boy, named Billy—I am out at service, but I was at home when the little baby died—I believe it was on a Monday—I saw it alive that day, between 4 and 5 in the afternoon—I was in the street, and Billy called me up; he said, "Kitty, come up and see the baby"—I went up and saw it; it was covered over with the quilt, and I did not see it at first—I said, "Billy, where is the baby," and he pointed to the bed—I lifted the clothes up, and took the baby up; it was Alive, it cried and frothed at the mouth, and I laid it down again, and went down and told my mother; she came up, and then my father came up, and went and brought a doctor—I did not see anything more—I went down—Mr. Rawley is my stepfather.
MARY RAWLEY . I live at 6, Little Pearl-street—the prisoners have lived there for about eight or nine months—they had One room on the first floor—the man is a shoemaker—I don't know that the female does anything—I remember the baby being born—Mr. Stack came to me that morning, and asked me to come up, and I was of there for about half am hour—I saw the baby born, and covered it over till the nurse came—I did not go Up again afterwards, until the day it was reported dead—that was on Monday, 28th August—my little girl Catherine came down, and said, "Baby an't dead mother"—I went up to look and-found it alive—I asked my husband to come up, and he went for the doctor—the child looked very weak, but was alive—while my husband was gone for the doctor, Mrs. Stack tame to my window—I said, "Mrs. Stack, the baby ain't dead"—she rather took angry, and I went indoors—I did not understand what she said—she does not speak very plain, but she snapped at me like—she had bed something to drink—she was not very drunk—I am always at work—I have seen Mr. Stack pass in and out many times, but I have not met Mrs. Stack more than a time or two—she was sober then.
Cross-examined. Q. How many rooms are there in this house? A. About sixteen—in some rooms there are more than one family living—the house was rather in a crowded condition at that time—I could not say how many persons were living there; there was a very large number—I heard that there were a few cases of fever round the corner; it it rather an unhealthy neighbourhood; the people in the house all seemed healthy—I think it Was about an hour after I saw the baby that the doctor came—I did not stay in the room all that time; we went down—the door was fastended after We went down—I stood by when the baby was born, but I gave no assistance in delivering the woman—I only covered the baby over until the woman came; a Mrs. Aldridge, who lived in the next room, released it, and tied the cord—she is not here.
JURY. Q. Did you ever see the female prisoner out with the child? A. No—I had heard, about 12 in the morning, that the child was dead—Mr. Stack spoke to my husband at the window, and said, "Do you know that the baby is dead?" and my husband said, "I have heard so this morning"—I had heard it from one of my girls, who met Mrs. Stack in the passage—the prisoner's conduct to their children was as kind as others that I see—they acted very kind to the children as far as I could see—they were hardworking people—the next child to the baby, I think, was about two years and a half old.
PATRICK RAWLEY . I am the husband of the last witness—on the Monday in question I went up into the room and saw the baby—the prisoners were out at that time—my stepdaughter fetched me up—I went and fetched Mr. Allenson—while he was there the two prisoners came in—they were rather drunk; the woman was the worst of the two—I left them in the room—I saw them in the street afterwards, that same evening—I had seen Mr. Stack about 12 o'clock in the day, and he asked me if I had heard the child was dead—I said, "Yes, I heard it this morning, between 9 and 10"—he said nothing more, but passed on—I saw them going in and out of the room after that; at least I saw them pass my window, I don't know whether they went up stairs or not—I believe he had plenty of work—I should think he could earn about 1l. a week—I have seen the other children—I saw them that night—they were taken to the workhouse about two days after the inquest.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you work in your own room? A. Yes—I saw the male prisoner two or three times on the Monday.
ELIZABETH CLIFTON . I am the daughter of Mrs. Rawley—on the morning that the baby died, I saw Mrs. Stack coming through the passage, about 9 o'clock—I asked her how the baby was, and she said, "Oh, it is dead"—I said, "Can I go up and see it?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "Who is up stairs?"—she said, "A lot of men"—I said, "Then I won't go up now; I will go up by-and-bye"—I went up at 5 o'clock, and the baby was lying in the bed covered over with a sheet and quilt—it moved its hands—the little boy was looking out at the window at his father and mother fighting—I did not see them fighting—I came down and went with my father to fetch the doctor—I have seen Mrs. Stack going in and out of the house, but I had not spoken to her before that—I never saw her take the baby out—I never saw her with it at all.
Cross-examined. Q. How often have you seen her since it was born? A. About four times; once at the top of the street, another time going into the chandler's shop, and then this morning in the passage; that makes three times—I lived in the down stairs room—they lived on the first floor.
COURT. Q. Did you know that the baby was ill when you asked bow it was? Q. No—that was the first time I spoke to her—there was nothing to prevent me going into the room then—the door was not locked that I know of—I saw some men going up the stairs at the time—I did not see them go into the room.
JURY. Q. When you went into the room, are you positive the child was covered over with the sheet and quilt? A. Yes, because I had to take them up to look at it; it was a cotton sheet and a patchwork quilt—there was no blanket—they were just laid over its head, so that I could not see it at all—I took them off to look at it—I did not put them back again; I left them off.
ROBERT WHITE . I am a blacksmith, and live on the lower floor in 6, Pearl-street—I know but very little of the prisoners—on the morning that the baby died I saw the male prisoner, between 9 and 10 o'clock, going to the ale-house at the corner, with two more men—he appeared sober then—I saw the female prisoner go over to the same house, about twenty minute afterwards—I saw her again a little before 10, and she told me the child was dead—I saw her backwards and forwards three or four times after that—I saw her at the door, about 5 o'clock, and I heard Mrs. Rawley say to her, "Mrs. Stack, your child is not dead"—the prisoner said it was no business of hers; she might go and b——herself—she was quite drunk—she
went down the passage and up stairs, and then off to the public-house again in about three minutes—about half-past 5, I saw her and her husband together, lying on the stones in the street fighting—he bad hold of the hair of her head—they were quite forward in liquor; drunker than I should like to be—I saw them come home at 6 o'clock, when the doctor came—when I say they were fighting, he was stripped to fight some other man, and his wife went up to him to take him away, and then he began upon her, and they both went at it and fell down on the stones.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know whether they were holding a wake over the child on this day? A. I don't understand it—I don't know whether the prisoners are Irish—I have seen them pass many times, but knew nothing about them.
GEORGE JAMES STEADMAN . I keep the Prince of Wales public-house in Pearl-street—on Monday, 28th August, the prisoners came to my house—I think the female came in first, but there was not a minute's difference between them—they came in with two more men, about half-past 9 o'clock—I think they had been drinking a drop before by the look of them—they had more drink at my house—the man stayed there for about twenty minutes; the woman was in and out pretty well the whole day—I saw the man again about 5 o'clock; the woman was there then—I had occasion to go into the tap-room, and while I was there I heard some one call out" Your child is not dead"—I was detained a minute or two in the tap-room, and when I came to the window I found them both lying in the road, and the man had got his wife's hair round his hand—they were both drunk, but of the two the woman was the worst.
Cross-examined. Q. How far is your house from the prisoners'? A. About thirty yards—I had not heard that the child was dead till I heard some one call out, "your child is not dead"—I never saw them at my place above two or three times before.
ELLEN O'SHAUGNESSY . I am married, and live at 27 1/2, Great Pearl-street—I know the prisoners—I think they are Irish—I remember the child being born—the male prisoner asked me to come to his house and see his wife, as the child had come unexpectedly, he did not think she would be confined until coming on Christmas—I went and found Mrs. Stack in bed, with the baby in her arms—I stayed with her very nearly an hour—Mr. Stack was there at the time—the female said, "The little baby has nothing to put on it, only the other child's things," and Mr. Stack and I went down to the workhouse and got a petticoat, a shirt, and a frock for the baby, also some arrowroot and sugar, and gruel and meal—I saw Mrs. Stack again once or twice, and I saw her once suckling the baby—I think that was about four or five days before I heard it was dying—I saw her on the Monday on which the baby died, from 12 to 1 o'clock in the morning, I think it was—I went there to see how the baby was—she was not sober then nor yet drank—the baby was alive at that time; she had it in her arms—she gave it the breast, and the baby shut its month against it—I think it was convulsed—there was a little foaming at the mouth—Mrs. Stack's little boy was crying at the time—it was a sickly child, and she put the baby into the bed to take the other child—that is a child of about four years old—I took the baby up in my arms, and sat with it next the fire, and I said, "I think Mrs. Stack the little baby is dying"—I saw a rattle come up in its throat—Mr. Stack said. "The child has been convulsed since 6 o'clock in the morning"—I then went home with my husband—we went to have a pint of beer first—the prisoners were then at home—I said to my husband, "There
is Mr. Stack at the window, go over and call him, and give him a drop of beer"—at that time I do not think he had any beer—he came over, and had part of a pint of beer—his wife came over and said, "Come on home"—he said, "No, I will come in a few minutes; you know I have got no money; go home and mind the two dying babies"—she did not go homo, and be went out and struck her.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose your husband paid for the beer? A. Yes, 2d.—it was about 5 o'clock in the evening when we went to the workhouse; we got the things at once; we were not delayed—we got back again near 6 o'clock with the things—I did not stay any longer that night—on the Monday there was me and my husband, and the prisoners, a man who was working for the male prisoner, and a woman, the godmother of the child—I did not see the child have convulsions, but I saw it foaming at the mouth—it looked very delicate and ill.
The statements of the prisoners before the magistrate were read as follow: Edward Stack says, "It is the first time I have ever been in a court or prison in my life. I left the mother indoors in charge of the child, when I went to have a glass of ale with a party. I did not think I was in duty bound to take care of the child at all, being so young." Honora Stack says, "When the child first was born, he never cared about drinking from the breast I put it in his mouth, and he would give one such, and leave it out of his mouth again; the nurse or the doctor never ordered me any castor-oil for the child. I gave it castor-oil; a tea-spoon full at a time, as far as it wanted. Likewise I used to give it a little drop of my own gruel at night, and then I got a little biscuit in boiling water, milk, and sugar, beat them up very fine, and give it to him, and then the nurse told me it was a seven-month child, and she never came to see the child. She said she would send the doctor. The doctor came on the Friday, found me in the bed, and he said, 'That little child will not live; it is over a seven-month child; between seven and eight months;' then the nurse never came till the Sunday to look after the child, and I told the doctor I had to wash it myself as the nurse did not come. The doctor said,' It is too soon for you to put your hands in water.' I told the doctor I did not open the child at all, but washed its legs down, to keep its legs clean till the nurse came. I tried as well as I could, and every day I went out I washed the child and cleaned him, and did not open him at all. I went out for my husband for fear of his taking a drop to drink too much. The child she some victuals on the Sunday morning, and then the Sunday evening he did not take anything, only drink. On the Monday he closed his lips entirely against drinking or taking anything from me."
JAMES KEEN . I am a surgeon's assistant in Norton Folgate—on Friday, the 11th August, the day after this child was born, I went to No. 6, Little Pearl-street—I merely made an official visit to see if the midwife had attended to her duty—I saw the child; it did not require any medical attendance that I was aware of—I did not tell the female prisoner that the child would not live—I said nothing to her about it, or about it being too soon for her to put her hands in water—I have nothing to do with those things; I always leave them to the midwife.
Cross-examined. Q. How long did your visit last? A. About three or four minutes—it was merely as a matter of form, to call to see that the mid-wife had attended to her duty—on the average we visit about one hundred women every day who have been confined.
into custody after the inquest—I told them I should hare to take them to the station for causing the death of their child—as we were going along the man said, "It is a very bad job; it is all her fault," meaning his wife, who was behind—at the station I charged them with causing the death of their infant, in neglecting to provide proper food and nourishment—the female replied," I have done as far as a woman can do; I never wronged my children. I have always kept it from myself, and given to my children"—I mentioned to the man that the child they had in their arms looked so very bad, and he said, "Well, it has got the worms; that accounts for it"—that was a child three years old—I took it to the workhouse with the other children—when I directed the constable to take the child out of the female's arms, she rather objected, and the man said, "Let them take it if they like, what matters? let it die"—the child is alive now, but very bad.
MR. DUKES (re-examined). I have heard it stated that the child had been in convulsions since 6 o'clock—to an inexperienced eye the child would present the appearance of a dead child for some time after each attack—I observed the appearance of the woman on the Wednesday; she has very much improved in appearance since she has been in prison, which I attribute to not getting too much stimulant.
Q. Did you see any trace of a wake when you were at the room? A. I saw one or two candles about, which had been burnt, and two or three pieces of blue ribbons, and some showy things.
EDWARD STACK— NOT GUILTY .
HONORA STACK— GUILTY of manslaughter. — Confined Four Months.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, September 21st, 1865.
Before Mr. Justice Montague Smith,
PRYOR PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COOPER defended Hobbs.
GEORGE PRUDENT (Policeman, B. 221) About half-past 12, on 31st August, I was coming up Brewer-street, and saw three persons coming away from a boot-shop there, together; they were on the opposite side to me—I could not distinguish who they were then—I crossed over and saw that they were the three prisoners—I am quite sure of them—just as I got to the other side they separated, and I met Hobbs and Sweeney under a gas-lamp—Pryor went towards Buckingham-gate, along the Victoria-road—I followed him, he saw I was getting near to him, and he ran back and turned down Princes-row—I ran after him, and when I got into Allington-street, I heard a rattle of shoes or boots against one of the houses—I called, "Stop thief," and he was stopped by constable Gordon—a young man named Bryant picked up one of the shoes and gave it to me in Prior's presence—we took him back into Allington-street, sent for a light, and found this other boot near where I had heard the noise against the wall—while we were there Sweeney came up—I said, "Holloa, my man, I want you"—he said, "I have done nothing"—I said, "I shall take you to the station"—I handed him over to another policeman, and afterwards proceeded to a bit of ground near Elliott's brewery—I there picked up
one of these two boots, and Gordon picked up these three—after that I went to Mr. Goodwin's shop in the Victoria-road—I there saw broken glass on the pavement, and the fanlight open—it swinge back like a door—there was a hole in it near the fastening—I called up Mr. Goodwin, he handed me this pair of boots, which he said he picked up on his door-mat—the boots were hanging about a yard from the fanlight—they might be reached from the outside—on the following Friday night, 1st September, I took Hobbs—I told him the charge—he said, "I know nothing about it, I was in bed."
Cross-examined. Q. He said he had nothing to do with it, he was at home in bed? Q. Yes—I have been in the police six years and a half.
COURT. Q. Did you know the prisoner's before? A. No; the three persons I saw near the shop were the same three who crossed the road—I had my eye on them all the time—I was perhaps fifty yards from them when they crossed over, but Hobbs and Sweeney passed close by me under the gaslamp.
SAMUEL GORDON (Policeman, B. 241) About half-past 12, on 31st August, I was on duty in Victoria-street, and heard a cry of "Stop thief in Allington-street—when I got a little way on I saw some one running towards me, and several persons after him—when he got within about five or six yards of me he stopped, and I took him—it was the prisoner Pryor.
THOMAS GOODWIN —I live at 15, King's-row. Victoria-road, and am a boot-maker—all these boots are mine—I saw them safe at my house on Wednesday night, the 30th—I fastened the fanlight between 10 and 11—these boots were in a line with the fanlight, hanging on nails, within reach—a constable called me between 1 and 2—I found the fanlight open, and the glass broken—five pairs of boots were gone—one pair I found on the door-mat, and one pair I have not seen again.
HENRY POSTAN (Policeman, A 284.) On Wednesday, 30th August, at a quarter-past 6, I was on duty in Grosvenor-road, and from that time till twenty minutes past 11, I saw the three prisoners together frequently—they were turned out of the Crown public-house at 11, and I told them to move on—the house shuts up at 11—they then went to the Cheshire Cheese public-house—there were some other men with them, and some prostitutes—they came out about twenty minutes past 11—there were a lot of them standing together, and I told them to go away—the prisoners and two others went away together—afterwards, on the same night, I saw Sweeney and Pryor in custody—I did not see them again before that.
Sweeney's Defence. I came up from Westminster with a young woman; I was behind these men, and the policeman came up and took me. I swear I know nothing about it.
MR. COOPER for Hobbs called:—
MARY STANBROOK . I am Hobbs's mother—I have been married twice—I remember the night my son was charged with this, he was at my house from 7 till 10, and he was at my house all day on Friday—it was Wednesday night that he was there, from 7 to 9—I am quite sure of that—the other prisoners have never been to my house—my son lodges with Robert Shiers, who keeps a lodging-house—he is here—he sleeps him—they are both very much afflicted.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. How came he to be at your house that night? A. He came in about 7, and when my husband came home he asked him to have a bit of supper, and he stopped till 10.
house for the last three years and nine months—I remember the Wednes-day night before he was taken—he slept at my house that night—he was in bed about 11, leastways I woke up at that time, and heard him snoring—I had a violent cough that night, and never went to sleep—I went into his room at 2 in the morning, and he was undressed and in. bed then.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see him before 2 in the morning? A. No, but I heard him snoring in bed.
MR. COOPER Q. Was there any one else in that bed where he slept? A. No—I have known him twenty years; his character has been good for what I know.
COURT. Q. If anybody had come in between 11 and 2 should you have heard them? A. Certainly, I never went to sleep all night—no one could have come in without my hearing them, and he was the only lodger—I know his snore as well as I do a dog's bark—he is a labourer.
SWEENEY and HOBBS— NOT GUILTY .
PRYOR also PLEADED GUILTY to a former conviction of felony in June, 1862.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution,MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS defended Richard and John Tyrer.
JANE PAGE . I am the wife of William Page, of 8, Pump Court, St. Luke's—on Sunday morning, about half-past 12, I was walking up Berkley-street, Clerkenwell, with Mrs. Maunders and Mrs. Parker—I saw the little prisoner (Richard Tyrer) and the tall one (Venamore)—I do not recognise the other one—there were four or five together—when I got up to them, the shortest one knocked up against me as if he was going to fall back—Venamore struck me in the eye and then in the back, and I was knocked down—I had a purse containing 4s. 6d. in my hand, and when I got up I had not got it—I afterwards got it from a little girl, and it was empty—I have not seen my money since.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you alone? A. I was not—my husband was a few yards in advance of me, with Mr. Maunders and another gentleman—Mrs. Maunders and Mrs. Parker were walking with me—we had had a very great deal of trouble, having lost a child, and we had been to a raffle for my husband's expenses—it was at a public-house in Cow-cross—we were quite sober—I had nothing at all myself—I had never seen either of the prisoners before—there were a great many people running in all directions after I was knocked down—the policeman came up—I did not tell him I could not recognise the prisoners—I said I knew the tall one, the one that hit me—he was the first one taken—he was taken shortly afterwards, it might have been a minute or two—the other two were brought into the station afterwards, I should think somewhere about two o'clock.
MR. DALY. Q. Was there any light? A. No, it was rather dark—there was a light from a lamp in the street—I cannot say how wear it was to the place where I was attacked—my husband was knocked down, and lost his hat—he spoke about it, and Venamore said, "If you do not say anything
about it I will pay you for it"—he said that in the presence of a good many people.
JANE MAUNDERS . I am the wife of James Maunders, of 10, St. John's, square, Clerkenwell—I was walking with Mrs. Page on this Sunday night—I recognise the three prisoners—I saw them at the corner of Francis-court, in Berkley-street, with some more men—I saw the shortest prisoner push against Mrs. Page—the second one (John Tyrer) stooped down, as if he was going to tie up his boot, and put his hands up my clothes indecently—I called my husband, and the tall one (Venamore) then struck me in the mouth—I was insensible, and I cannot remember anything more until I was taken to my sister's house.
Gross-examined. Q. Did you drop your purse too? A. When I was taken to my sister's house I put my hand in my pocket to take my handkerchief out, and I found my pocket was turned inside out—I recovered my purse with the money in it when we came from the police court—we had been to a raffle—I do not know the name of the place—we remained there about a couple of hours—I dare say the people had some drink—I had never seen either of the prisoners before—when we were struck my husband and Mrs. Page's husband were walking about three or four yards in front of in—I should think there were about half a dozen more there at the time.
AMELIA PARKER . I am the wife of Reuben Parker—I was walking with the two last witnesses on this night—I saw the prisoners at the corner of Francis-court—the shortest one pushed up against Mrs. Page, and Venamore knocked her down—the middle one put his hand up my sister's petticoats—I asked her what was the matter, and she said, "This one is pretending to tie up his boot lace and has got his hand up my petticoats"—I said, "Call for James"—and we had no sooner called for her husband when Venamore knocked my sister down—I went for a policeman, and when I came back the police were there.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you been to the raffle? A. Yes; I never saw either of the prisoners before—I saw them at the station when the police constable brought them in.
JURY. Q. Had there been any conversation between you previously? A. None at all, there was no quarrelling whatever.
MR. DALY. Q. Was there any light there? A. Yes, there is a green-grocer's near there, where there is a lamp—they were closing up the shops at the time—I can identify these three prisoners, and there were more of them.
WILLIAM PAGE . I am the husband of the first witness—about half-past 12 on this morning, I was walking up Berkley-street, in advance of my wife and the others—I heard a scream—I immediately turned round and rushed to their assistance, and as I got up to them I was knocked down, and severely kicked across the eye—I could not see who knocked me down—I saw my wife and Mrs. Maunders lying on the pavement.
Cross-examined. Q. How far were you walking in front of your wife? Q. I could not say—some little distance—it might be ten or fifteen yards—I identify none of the prisoners.
RICHARD FAITHORNE (Policeman, G 158.) About half-past 12 on this morning, I saw the three prisoners in Berkley-street—the two Tyrers were standing together, and Venamore was on the opposite side of the way—the street was quiet then—when I got into St. John's-lane, I heard a cry of
"Murder"—I turned into Berkley-street, and saw Mrs. Maunders and Mrs. Page—Mrs. Page bad a black eye and Mrs. Maunders was bleeding from the mouth—I got a description from Mrs. Page I think—it answered the description of Venamore—I saw a lot of people run up Francis-court, and saw the two Tyrers run into their house—they live there—I turned round again, and saw Venamore standing in Francis-court—I told him I should take him into custody for assaulting some persons in Berkley-street—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I took him into Berkley-street, and he was then directly given into custody by Mrs. Page and Mrs. Maunders—I took him to the station, and then went back to Francis-court and apprehended the two Tyrers—I told them the charge, and they said, "You have got hold of the wrong parties"—on the way to the station Richard Tyrer said, "Have you locked up Venamore."
Cross-examined. Q. You bad taken Venamore up the court in custody? A. Yes: the Tyrers live in a turning out of the court—I have known them these four or five years—I found them at home at their own house—that was about an hour after Venamore bad been taken.
Cross-examined. Q. Close by the Tyrer's house? A. Yes, within sixty yards of it.
The COURT considered there was no evidence of robbery, but they could proceed on the indictment for assault
NOT GUILTY of robbery.
The evidence of the witnesses, as given in the last case, was read over to them, to which they assented.
MARY MANZONI . My husband is a looking-glass frame maker—we reside at 1, Francis-court—I know the two Tyrers very well—I remember the night this disturbance took place—I was at my street door—I saw some young men commit an assault upon these women—neither of the Tyrers were there at the time the assault was committed—I have known them eight years—I believe they are apprentices.
Cross-examined by MR. DALY. Q. Did you see Mrs. Maunders and the other ladies? A. I saw them all three passing—my house is exactly at the corner of the court—there were five lads standing at the corner, two in a group and three in a group—I knew some of the five—I could not positively wear who committed the assault—Venamore was one of the two standing there—it was not him who struck the lady—I offered to tell the police who it was, but they would not bear—they said they were positive they had got the right parties—I told 171 G, that I knew the right parties—that is the constable (pointing him out)—I am generally very late up on Saturday night—this was on the Sunday morning—I know the Tyrers are apprentices from hearing their mother say so.
COURT. Q. You say you saw the tall prisoner there? A. Yes; he was standing with his back to the kerb as these ladies were passing, with another young man they call Owen Meroy, and one pushed the other against this lady, who had a baby in her arms, and I saw Owen Meroy strike a blow—I
don't know where he lives—I saw Venamore go into the road, but I did not see him strike any blow—they all five went into the road—Owen Meroy struck the lady in black a violent blow in the face, and the other ones went into the road.
JURY. Q. Do you know anything of Venamore? A. I have seen him pass—I do not know him—I knew Meroy by sight—I think I had seen him speaking to Venamore before.
JANE BELNAVE . I live at 9, Francis-court—on the night of 2nd September, after this disturbance, I went down the court with John Tyrer—u I came out of our gate I met him coming from his gate, and we walked down to the bottom together—that was after the screams were over—Richard Tyrer stopped at the gate—he did not come down at all.
Cross-examined. Q. What became of John Tyrer when he went down with you? A. We both stood at the bottom together, and when we saw the other boys come up the court, we came up too—I have known the Tyrers a long time—the youngest one was a baby-in-arms when I first knew him—I went to the Police Court to give evidence—I was not examined—the constable refused to let us go in—he is here to day—I told him I was a witness, and wanted to go in—one of the Tyrers is an apprentice—I don't know the other one's business, but I know he is a hard-working boy—I was sitting up reading on this night, and waiting for my brother to come in.
HENRY WALKER . I live at 1, Albion-cottages, Francis-court, in the same house as the Tyrers—I remember the morning of this disturbance—I saw Richard and John Tyrer that night—the first time I saw Richard was twenty minutes to 12—I saw the latter part of the disturbance—Richard Tyrer was then standing at his mother's gate—that was after the screaming.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see him after ten minutes to 12? A. Yes, he was in my house at that time—I saw him in the kitchen—he came into the house, and was never out of it until after the screaming—at twenty minutes to 12 I left him at his mother's gate, and went to the bottom with John Tyrer—Jane Belnave followed after us—John was behind me, and Miss Belnave just behind him.
All the prisoners received good characters.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOIR conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HENRY WALLISS . I am a varnish manufacturer, at 64, Long Acre—on 12th August, I came home a few minutes before 12, and found my house full of firemen and police-officers, and filled with smoke—there was smoke coming from the servant's bed-room, and also from my room—the prisoner had been in my service about twelve months—my sister had given her notice to quit; she is not here—I don't know it of my own personal knowledge; my sister told me so.
ELIZABETH BROWNJOHN . I am a dress-maker, at 16, Cross-street, Hatton-garden—on 12th August, about 10 in the evening, I took a dress to Mr. Walliss, 64, Long Acre—the prisoner opened the door to me—I only went just inside—there were no signs of fire then—the prisoner appeared very excited—she seemed to have been drinking.
GEORGE ROFFEY (Policeman, F 22.) On 12th August, at ten minutes' past 11, I saw smoke Issuing from the third floor front of Mr. Wallis's house, 64, Long Acre—the top sash of the window was a little bit down—
I raised an alarm by pulling the bell, and striking on the shutters and the the door—I could make no one hear—I remained there till past 12—Mr. Wall is came home a few minutes before 12—we then went up stairs, and found that there had been a fire in the third floor front, and another room was on fire—it had been put out then—the things were burnt, and the flooring burnt—the firemen burst the street-door open, and one got in at the third floor window with the escape.
RICHARD CHRISTIAN . I am afire-escape conductor—about ten minutes past 11, on 12th August, I went to 64, Long Acre—I pitched my escape at the window, and found that the third floor front room was on fire—I ascended the escape, and shoved the window in—the bed and bedding were in a blaze—I descended the escape, went up again with a pail of water, had two other pails brought up to me, and extinguished the fire—the brigade then arrived, and burst the street-door open—I went up stairs with the engineer, and found the bed and bedding on fire, in a room on the second floor—the next day, I saw that a little of the flooring of the third floor was burnt—I saw nobody in the house.
PAUL JERRARD . I am engineer to the London Fire Engine establishments—on 12th August, I went to 64, Long Acre—I saw the bed and bedding in the third floor alight; the flooring was slightly burnt—on the second floor front room the bed and bedding was also alight—in a front room, on the third floor, I found a toilet-cover and drawers burnt; that had burnt itself out—I saw some things, in a wardrobe on the second floor front, which had burnt themselves out—I helped to extinguish the fire.
COURT. Q. Had these fires any connexion, or were they separate fires? A. No communication one with the other, all separate.
JAMES DENNY . I am a labourer, in the employment of Mr. Wallis—I left his house at 6 o'clock, on 12th August, and went home—the house was quite safe then—I left the prisoner there alone—I told her I was going home, and asked her if there was anything to fetch—she said that Miss Wallis had accused her of being saucy to persons who had been to see her, and she sat down and cried—I said, "Don't cry, Elizabeth, I must go"—she was excited—I saw Miss Walker that night—I saw her off in a cab, about half-past 5, and I then went up to the prisoner.
COURT. Q. Did she appear to have been drinking? A. Her breath smelt very strong; I can't say what of.
JAMES BRANNAN (Police-inspector, F.) About a quarter past 8, on 24th August, I apprehended the prisoner—I asked her if her name was Elizabeth Burgin—she said, "Yes"—I said, "I have come to apprehend you for setting fire to your master's house"—she said, "I did set fire to it and I wish to give myself up"—I said, "I also wish to inform you that you will be charged with stealing some articles of wearing apparel, and whatever you say, I shall have to repeat to the Magistrate"—she said, "Oh! I did not understand that"—I took her in a cab to Bow-street station, and she was charged—when the charge was read over she said, "I did set fire to my master's house, and I am very sorry for it."
JANE SMITH . I am searcher at Bow-street station—I searched the prisoner on 24th August, and found a brush and comb on her—she said she had brought the brush from the house, but the comb was her own—she said she was very sorry for what she had done; she could not tell what possessed her to do it; she said she was a very wicked wretch.
Prisoner's Defence. I wish to say that the charge of setting fire to the house, with the intention of injuring Mr. and Miss Wallis, is entirely false, because they were not in the house at the time. I did not know what
I did, as I had been drinking; Mr. Wallis was a kind master, and I should have been very sorry to injure him; if I had been in my senses I should never have thought of setting fire to the property of so kind a master; I hope, under these circumstances, your worship will deal mercifully with me.
GUILTY on the Second Count. — Five Years Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, September 21st, 1865.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. RIBTON and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. F. H. LEWIS and WAKNER SLEIGH the Defence.
MR. LEWIS submitted that the prosecution ought to be confined to the assignments of perjury which were gone into before the Magistrate, and that the second Count of the Indictment ought not to be retained, as the cause which it referred to was one which was still pending, a rule for a new trial having been granted. MR. RIBTON urged that live retention of the second Count, was supported by an order of Mr. Justice Smith, made at Chambers. THE RECORDER, having consulted Mr. Justice Smith, stated that the learned Judge understood the cause to be wholly over at the time he made the order, and that, had he had any idea that a motion for a new trial was pending, he should not have made it; the Judge's order having therefore been improperly obtained, the second Count must be quashed, and the case must proceed upon the first Count only. The defendant was then given in charge, to the Jury on the first Count.
CHARLES SAMUEL STOKES . I live at 8, North-terrace, Bromptom—I was percent on 15th August, at this Court, at the trial of Jean Lafourcade—(see page 296)—the defendant was called as a witness for the prosecution, and was sworn through an interpreter, who repeated correctly the oath administered by the officer, and I saw her with the Testament in her hand—I took down notes of her evidence for Mr. Hall, when he was ordered out of Court.
ALEXANDER BUCKLER . I am a shorthand writer, appointed to the Central Criminal Court—I was present at the trial of Jean Lafourcade at the last sessions and took notes of the evidence—the defendant was the prosecutrix (The witness read the whole of the defendant's evidence, as given at pages 296to 300 of this volume.) The portions upon which the perjury was assigned being, that she had never been in London, prior to 26th September, 1804; and that she had never expressed her intention of proceeding to America.
Some documents relating to a proposed marriage between M. Donflou and the defendant were here put in.
JEAN LAFOURCADE (through an interpreter.) I was convicted at the last sessions here of perjury—I first became acquainted with the defendant at the end of October, 1863—I was then butler at the Railway Club, which frequented by a great many stock-brokers—I do not know whether my wife knew her before I made her acquaintance—I know of the defendant being in prison, and a very few days after that I formed her acquaintance—I was in the habit of seeing her very often from October, 1863—I saw her in Paris in the course of June, July, and August, 1864—this letter (produced) was written by her to my wife—I do not know whether I was at home at the moment it was delivered to her—I first saw it in July, 1864—I cannot say
how soon after that I first saw the defendant—it was after this letter was shown me that she made a proposition to me about selling some shares—I gold a number of shares for her—these certificates (produced) are not in my writing, but they were given to me at the time they were written—for the shares she handed to me I received 94,700 or 94,800 and some odd francs, and handed that sum over to her—I sold the shares by degrees, from 14th to 21st September, and gave her the money every day in Paris—after that she and I came to London together, and resided here at the Hotel de Ville de France till a business was taken for me in Berwick-street—she gave me 5,100f. at Paris—I made a communication some time afterwards to M. Bouillon in Paris, and some time after that I had an interview with Mr. Hall, in London—(A writ of summons was here put in, dated 21st November, 1864, in the Court of Exchequer, at the suit of Guiilaume and Francoise Bouillon, issued by Denton and Hall, attorneys for the plaintiffs, served on Louise Perette Valentin, December 5th, 1864.) I was in the habit of seeing Mr. Hall during November and the early part of December—after my arrival in this country I was in the habit of seeing Madame Valentin—we were together at the Hotel de Ville de France, Dean-street, Soho—she passed there by the name of Madame Bertin—the intimacy went on,. I think, until the first day of November—I arrived at Berwick-street on 16th or 17th October, and she remained at the hotel—she was in the habit of coming to my house at Berwick-street—she was in the habit of talking to me at the hotel, in the presence of my wife and my three daughters about her private affairs, and at Berwick-street likewise, but I bad two daughters less there, my wife and my eldest daughter only were there—she has often said that she intended to leave England and go to Scotland and thence to America, and to travel a great deal—I cannot exactly tell you how often she made that statement, but at table and in her room she has told me so often—she assigned no reason for doing so—I have known Coulan since 1st October—he was present somewhat often at those conversations, as well as my daughters—he was examined against me at the trial last session—the defendant did not finally fix the time when she intended to leave—she said to me one day, "We must employ ourselves by selling those conpons"—she had shown them to me in Paris, but she never showed me any here—I went to Whitecross-street prison about May, 1860, and saw her there—she was alone when I arrived—she first reproached me by saying that I had sold myself to M. Bouillon, and she proposed to me to make a new affidavit in her favour so as to destroy the one which I had made with Mr. Hall—I said that I would not, and refused to give my signature for any purpose—Mdlle. rey then came in, the former conversation was then finished, but Madame Valentin was going on speaking, and was raying that Coulan had told her that I had sold myself to M. Bouillon—after the entrance of Mdlle. Rey we did not talk of anything more, and I do not suppose she heard anything that was said.
LOUISE LAPOURCADE (through an interpreter.) I am the eldest daughter of the last witness; he has three daughters—I came to London with my mother and sisters on 24th September, and was staying at the Hotel de Ville de France, with Madame Fidele—Madame Valentin was in London before us; we found her and my father at the Hotel de Ville de France when we got there—we remained there a month or six weeks, I think, and then went to Berwick-street—I and my family were on very good terms with Madame Valentin—I did not go to the Crystal Palace with her, my sister went—she did not speak of her private affairs before me at the Hotel de
Ville de France—she spoke in my presence about going away from England—I heard her say that more than once; a great many times; I cannot tell how many—she said that she did not intend to remain in London a long time—she said that she did not wish to remain in England, she meant to remain in America—she said that she meant to go away with us and that she should begin the journey perhaps immediately and perhaps the following year.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined for your father on his trial when he was convicted? A. Yes—I said then as I say now, that Madame Valentin said that she was going to America—Madame Valentin told me that she was going to France in January of this year, for the purpose of attacking M. Bouillon; she said so many times—the last time I heard her say that she was going to America was the last time she came to our place at Berwick-street; I am not quite sure, but I think that was at the end of November, last year—she also talked about going to China; she said that she wanted to go everywhere—I am now a washerwoman—I was also a blanchisseuse in 1863, in France—I did not cease that trade to become one of the Poses plastiques—since I am the sister of artistes several things were lent to me that I might be photographed.
Q. Were you photographed without any dress on? A. No, the same costume as my sisters—I do not know what Pose plastique means—I was never photographed with nothing more than flesh skin over me; it was in a velvet dress—my sisters represent a certain role at the Bouffes Parisennes—I was confined of an illegitimate child in August, 1864—Madame Valentin did not act as sister of charity or nurse tome at that time—she came to me saying that she would take care of me, but she never did take care of me, and she did not nurse me—before and after that my sisters and I did not all receive money as prostitutes from M. Toussan—I do not know him—I am twenty-two years old—I never obtained from the Prefect of the Seine 40 francs on the representation that my sisters and I were in want as artistes of the Bouffes Parisiennes, nor do I know of my sisters obtaining it.
MR. RIBTON. Q. What is the Bouffes Parisiennes? A. A theatre where comic operas are performed—I do not know what Pose plastique means—i never heard of any representations at the Bouffes Parisiennes of women naked or partially naked—I do not play there, but I went with my mother to take my sisters there—there was a time when I did not work, not being able, being poorly, but when I worked it was as a laundress—when I was photographed in velvet the photographer offered to do it because I was the sister of actresses—I had not this dress on on that occasion, but a different dress—I earned 2 1/2 franes a day as a laundress—I now earn 3s.
MATILDE CATHARINE LAFOURCADE (through an interpreter.) I am the second daughter of Jean Lafourcade—I am an artiste, and live in Paris—I came to London in September, 1864, with my mother and my two sisters—we went to Mr. Fidele's when we arrived—he keeps the Hotel de Ville de France—immediately I arrived in London, I saw my father—Madame Valentin was present—I remained there a fortnight—I then went to Paris with my young sister—during the fortnight I was in London in this hotel I was on terms of intimacy with Madame Valentin—we did not leave each other—I saw her every day—she said to me several times that her intention was to leave England—I remember being at the Crystal-palace with her—it was specially there that she told me so—she said that she would go first to Scotland, and then to America; and she added that she would finish
her days in travelling—she spoke to my father before me as to her intention of returning to Paris to take proceedings against the Bouillons—she was to go to France first to attack the Bouillons, and then to go afterwards to America—I heard a statement about going to America made by Madame Valentin in the presence of Coulan and his wife—she mentioned in my hearing that she would leave England in January—I did not hear her state at any time her motive for delaying the commencement of her journey—I did Dot hear from her what detained her in England—I was employed at the Bouffes Parisiennes—the kind of entertainments given there are little operas—since I have been connected with the establishment there never has been any representation of women apparently naked on the stage—I used to play parts in the small operas at that time—I have left the theatre now—I am at the cafe concert—I sing.
Cross-examined. Q. When was the last time that you heard Madame Valentine say that she was going to Paris to attack the Bouillons? A. I do not recollect the day; it was the beginning of the time I was in London—I heard her say that, as long before January as the beginning of October—I beard her also say that she was going to China and Scotland; she wished to go everywhere—she said that she should stop in Paris as long as the law-suits should last—only my youngest sister and I performed at the Bouffes Parisiennes in La Georginne.
Q. Were you dressed in a tight velvet jacket and flesh-coloured tights? A. I played generally the travestie parts, and of course I had flesh-coloured tights—I do not know what Poses plastiques are—I was not in Court at the commencement of ray sister's examination—I arrived nearly at the end.
Q. Did not you hear your sister say she did not know what Pose plas-tiques were? A. I was sitting with my father, and did not hear what my sister was saying.
Q. How old are you? A. Twenty—I am the second daughter, next to Louise.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You arrived here yesterday? A. I was obliged to give up my engagement that I might come—the director had to give me leave of absence for six days to come to the last trial; he would not do bo again, so I was obliged to give up my engagement—I was principal singer there—my salary was for the first mouth 450f. or 18l., and the next month 500f. or 20l.
MARIE LOUISE LAFOURCADE . I am the youngest daughter of Jean La-fourcade—I came to London on 24th September last year with my mother and my two sisters—I went to Madame Fidele's at the Hotel de Ville de France—I found my father and Madame Valentin there—I remained there a fortnight, and then went to Paris with my sister—from the 24th September to the time I left London again I saw Madame Valentin every day, and had conversations with her—during that time I heard her very often express her intention of leaving England—I went with her and my sister to the Crystal-police—the subject of the departure of Madame Valentin was spoken of there by her—she said that her intention was to go to America, and travel; in fact to finish her days in travelling—she said that her intention was to leave in the month of January—I do not recollect whether she gave any reasons why she delayed leaving—M. Coulan was there very often when she was talking, but I cannot recollect what she said then—Madame Coulan was in the house too, but I cannot recollect what particular conversation she was present at—during the time of my visit to London M. and Madame Coulan
were not always in the company of Madame Valentin and myself and my sisters, because we were not sufficiently intimate; but she was more than once, as they were in the house with us—M. Fidele was always in the kitchen—Madame Fidele was always in the house—I am an artiste, and get my living by singing—I am seventeen and a half.
Cross-examined. Q. At the Bouffes Parisiennes did you dress like your sister? A. Yes, in blue velvet and flesh-coloured tights, but we had trousers as well, open-work pantaloons that came to our knees—I also heard Madame Valentin say that she was going to China and Scotland, and I heard her say that she was going in January to attack M. Bouillon in Paris—she did not say when she was going to China—she was to go first to America—she told me herself that she should go to America first, then to Scotland, and so make a turn to China.
MR. BESLEY. Q. When did Madame Valentin speak of going to Paris Was that journey to be before starting for America? A. I think it was to be in the month of January—she was first to go to Paris in January.
COURT. Q. Did not you say at the last trial that Madame Valentin never spoke of going to Paris in your hearing? A. What I said was that she would not stop in France; she meant to go there to attack the Bouillon—I think I said that she never spoke of going to Paris.
AMAND REICHARDT (intenpreted.) Mr. Hall told me to leave the Court a little while ago and go round; I did so and then I came in again—I have been in Court an hour and a half—I carry on the business of a French laundry, at 28, Leicester-square—Madame Valentin came to my place in October to get some linen for a little I talienne, who was staying there; she did not come more than once—I got into conversation with her on the subject of France; we talked for an hour—she said that all poor unfortunate Frenchmen were robbed in england, and that if she were staying in England she would not stop at the hotel because it was very dear, and it would be cheaper to set up a house for herself, and for that reason she would establish herself in London—she said that her intention was not to establish herself in London, if it was, she would have bought her own furniture—she said it was her intention not to fix herself in London.
Cross-examined. Q. Did she confide to you her intention of going to China? Q. No, nor Scotland—we talked about the foreigners in London—I reside at 28, Lisle-street—Jean Lafourcade was living there two or three months before his arrest for perjury—one of his daughters is in my service as a workwoman.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Are you a married man, and have you a family? A. Yes.
JOHN WILLIAM COOKE . I am a shorthand-writer—i was employed in June to take evidence at a trial in which Madame Valentin gave evidence—she was sworn and examined through an interpreter—(The witness read the following passage, from his notes:—"Mr. Serjeant Simon. Q. Did you propose to Lufourcade, when he visited you in prison, to make a fresh affidavit on your behalf? A. Yes. Q. What passed on that subject? A. I wanted to be convinced that he had sold himself to the Bouillons")—Then there are a number of interruptions by counsel, and the next question is, "Did Lafourcade say in the prison that he would not make a fresh affidavit or give evidence for you for 1,000l. or 2,000l. I Did Lafourcade say that he would not sign his name anywhere or for anybody for 1,000l. or 2,000l. cash down, say yes or no? A. Yes."
terpreted the oath correctly to Madame Valentin, and also her answers—a wrong word could not have passed, as everybody understood it.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you not frequently interpret freely? A. Well, you cannot always do it verbatim.
Doctor Berrier Fontaine, physician to H. M. the Emperor of the French, gave the prisoner a good character.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
FOURTH COURT.—Thursday, September 21st, 1865.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GIFFARD, Q. C. and MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
(The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.)
JAMES THOMSON . I am an inspector of police at Scotland-yard—on the 8th of August last I met the prisoner in the Gray's-inn-road, about ten o'clock at night—I asked him if his name was Ancenay, be said it was—I told him I was an inspector of police, and that I had been to Southley-lodge, Datchet, near Windsor, that I had there opened two cases and seen certain plates which I believed were used for the purpose of Russian notes—he said, "I do not exactly understand you, please tell me in French if you can"—I did so; he then said, "I will tell you all about it; I am one of the oldest lithographers in Fiance; some years ago two men came to me and engaged me to make notes for the Government of Hungary—I came to London and worked for a Mr. Day, and we made notes to the extent of 290,000,000, we were then stopped by the Government and I returned to Paris; about two and-a-half years ago the same gentlemen again came to me and said they wanted me to go to London and make more notes for them, I consented, and from that time to the present I have been engaged with them; on the 1st of June I went to Southley-lodge, at Datchet, and there saw a gentle-man who gave the name of Mascaras, be told me to engrave plates and I did so, he said they were not good enough, and he would try photography, and he photographed some fifty Russian rouble notes; about a month ago he went away, and as he had not paid me I returned to London, having previously packed up the plates; it was my intention to have gone to the Russian Ambassador, and have given myself up because I knew we were doing wrong"—I then asked the prisoner if he had any plates in London—he replied, "I am living with a woman, and she has some in her room"—I then went with the prisoner to No. 127, Gray's-inn-road, to a back room on the second floor, the prisoner went into the room first, looked under the bed and produced this box (marked B)—I asked him if he had any more plates—he replied, "There are two cases in the hands of one of our comrades "—I asked him where he lived, and he said, "No. 4, Berwick-street, Soho"—he said, "It is no use your going there as he will not give them up to any one but me"—I then went to Berwick street with him, and in a front room I saw a man named Nichola with his wife and children—the prisoner said, "Adrian, I have come for those boxes; it is important I should send them to Paris to-night"—Nichola said, "Are you going to give these things
up?"—Nichola and the prisoner looked under the bed and they took from it a large wooden box—the box is not here but the contents are—I asked if there was anything else, and Nichola then took the small box (marked C from a shelf—I then told Nichola that I was an officer, and should take him into custody as these boxes contained plates for the fabrication of Russian notes—Nichola said that the boxes had been entrusted to him by the prisoner, and that he was not aware of the contents—I found this engraved metal plate (produced) tied to one of the boxes—the prisoners were removed to the station, where I opened the box (marked" C) and found it to contain ten photographs of fifty-rouble Russian notes—I then returned to the prisoner's lodgings, and there found a photographic copying frame, a printer's roller, and a quantity of paper, the same that I had found at Datchet, and also another sheet of paper, bearing an impression from one of the plates that I found at Datchet—I cautioned the prisoner at the commencement of his statement—on the morning of the same day I had been to Datchet and searched Southley-lodge, in a back room up stairs I found two portions of a printing press; the room smelt strongly of acids, and there were stains upon the floor—in a room down stairs I found two boxes, and opened them—one contained six large stones, upon one of which there was a preparation for engraving—the smaller box contained eight stones, one of which was prepared the same as the large one—I then opened a hamper, and found it contained several bottles of different kinds of acids—these bottles were wrapped up in paper, upon which there was a kind of watermark, as if taken from the plates referred to—I opened another box, and found it contained pumice stone, a sponge, and printing inks of various colours; in the garden I found a large case—I opened it and found it to contain a complete printing press, with the exception of the two parts I found up stairs—the conversation I have given took place in the presence of one of my sergeants.
JAMES HEARD . I am attached to the Russian Consulate—these two plates are photographed impressions of a Russian rouble bank note, of the value of fifty roubles—Russian rouble notes are part of the imperial currency of Russia—this plate is a pattern of the water-mark of a fifty-rouble note of the year 1855.
Prisoners Defence. I have been ill two years and a half; while I was at work in Paris, two gentlemen came to me, and asked me if I had been working at Mr. Day's, in London, and if I had made any Hungarian bank notes; I said I had. They said they had a similar work to do, but not so important; would I go to London with them? I declined then. At the end of April, or beginning of May, they called again and made the same proposal; they offered me 4l. a week. I agreed to go. They gave me some money in advance, and I started for London. It was agreed that he should pay my mother, out of my wages, twenty francs a week, but from the time I arrived here, on the 1st of June, he has only paid her once; he owes me 45l. and I have not a penny in the world, and my poor mother is nearly turned out in the streets. I swear I did not have any knowledge of Russian bank notes until the 9th, which was the day after I was arrested; I did not do any work at Datchet whatever; when my master had something to try, he always was hiding himself from me. Before my master went to Paris ho asked me if I had a trustworthy friend here, he could deposit two
Eleventh Session, 1864—65. boxes with, till he returned to London, and I placed them with Adrian; I know nothing on earth about the notes; I did not work at them; I did not print anything at all, and I did not ace anybody make them.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy. — Confined Twelve Months.
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK WILLIAM FLETCHER . I am a commission merchant, Union Chambers, Old Broad-street—I am the publisher of the "London Trade Directory"—a book called "Wilson's Tales of the Borders," is issued with that directory—I employed the prisoner to obtain orders for me, and supplied him with forms for that purpose—this is one of the forms (produced)—his duty was to get advertisements for the book, and to get these orders signed—I paid him a commission of 1s. on each—this order purports to be signed by "M. Hare," Stationer, High-street, Peckham—the prisoner has been paid his commission on this order.
ELLEN HARE I am the wife of Marmaduke Hare, who keeps a stationer's shop at High-street, Peckham—I have never seen the prisoner before—I did not sign this order—we are in the habit of signing our bills "M. Hare," my husband's name being Marmaduke Hare—I have never ordered "Wilson's Tales of the Borders."
The prisoner here expressed a wish to plead GUILTY.—The witness Bardwell stated, that he had known the prisoner a great many years, and had never, known anything against him before.
GUILTY .— Confined Three Months ,
MR. ORRIDGE and MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution, and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
ALFRED GUEST . I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Chipperfield and Detton, who are solicitors to the plaintiff in the action of Suffolk against Alfred Joseph Martin—the prisoner was the defendant in that action—I served him with a copy of this writ (produced) on Thursday the 13th of July.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you brought an order with you? A. No, that is all—I do not know whether there was an order made, but it appears to be So.
GEORGE CLAY . I am clerk to Mr. William Murray, of No 11, Birchin-lane—he is a Commissioner to administer oaths in Common Law—on the 22nd of July, 1865, I was in attendance at his office—I accompanied the person to this affidavit, to Mr. Murray, and he was sworn—the "jurat" is in my handwriting—I saw Mr. Murray sign it.
WILLIAM SUFFOLK . I reside at Eglington-villa, Old-ford—I know the prisoner—I also know his uncle, William Martin—on the 5th of December, last, William Martin brought me a bill of exchange for 25l. to discount which I did, and gave him a cheque on the Bank of England, for 21l—it was paid at the Bank the same day—the cheque was endorsed, in my
presence, by William Martin (the bill and cheque were read)—he came to me again on the 19th of December, with a bill for 10l. for two months, to discount, for which I gave him 9l.—a cheque for 5l. and 4l. in copper money (read:)—I see by my banker's book that that cheque was paid on the 19th—the bills were presented and dishonoured—the prisoner lived close by me, and kept a luncheon bar, at 15, Basing hall-street, which he gave up soon after I discounted the bills—I instructed my solicitors to take proceedings against him—I did not see anything of him from the time he left Basinghall-street till I saw him at the Mansion-house—there never was any agreement between me and William Martin to sue the prisoner—I never agreed that, in the event of the prisoner's paying upon being sued, to divide the proceeds with him—after discounting the bills, I placed them in an iron safe—I never parted with them for a minute until at the Mansion-house, when I applied for a summons—that was early in August—when I handed the first cheque to William Martin, a man named Quinnel was present—it was at the Catherine Wheel hotel, in Bishopsgate-street.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there another bill brought to you besides these two? A. There was, and in consequence of an obliteration on the bill, I did not discount it—William Martin said, he would see his nephew and meet me again—I am now a bill discounter—some time ago I was a journeyman baker—that is about eight or nine years ago—I collected rents as well—I had some dealings with the prisoner's father—I sued him and he got the day—that was for perjury—that is about twelve or fourteen years ago—I have not had a very good feeling towards the prisoner since—I did not inquire of William Martin what he was doing—he represented himself to me as a master tailor—I did not inquire where his shop was—he told me he lived at 3, Lambeth-street, but I did not go there to inquire—I knew the prisoner was keeping a luncheon bar in Basinghall-street—I know Mr. Elkins, of Manor-street, Poplar—I never told him that I would walk any distance to p; on old Martin's grave—I had a glass of ale with Mr. Benton, the prisoner's solicitor, this morning—he asked me that question, and I told him No.
WILLIAM MARTIN . I live at No. 18, George-street, Stepney, and am a tailor—I formerly lived at No. 3, Lambeth-street, Leman-street, White-chapel—these two bills of exchange I took from Alfred Martin, and took them to Mr. Suffolk, who discounted them for me—he gave me 21l. for the 25l. bill, and 8l. for the 10l. bill—I cannot say when it was, but I suppose it was a week after they were drawn—the prisoner is my nephew—I drew the bills, and he accepted them—these acceptances are in his hand-writing—I saw him accept them—I have had business dealings with the prisoner for years—he was owing me money, and I took the proceeds of the bills—I never saw anything of these bills from the time Mr. Suffolk discounted them till they were produced at the Mansion-house—I never had any agreement with Mr. Suffolk that he should sue the prisoner, and if he paid the bills that we were to divide the proceeds, nor to pay the costs if he did not pay them—I never offered to give him up the bills if he would pay me 5l.—I never had them in my possession after they were discounted, I never saw them.
Crow-examined. Q. How did you receive the 8l.? A. 4l. in coppers, and the remainder he gave me a cheque for, which I got cashed—I cannot say whether the cheque was for 4l. or 5l.—I have never said that I had not received all the money, and that I was to receive the rest as soon
as the case was over—I did not say it in the presence of Mr. Wild—I might have said it in a off-hand sort of way—now that you mention Mr. Wild's name I do not recollect it—I paid my debts with the proceeds of the bills—the prisoner owes me between 50l. and 60l. altogether—that extends over a period of four years—I am a master tailor sometimes, and some-times a journeymay tailor—I lived in Colchester thirty-one years as master tailor—I assisted the prisoner at his luncheon bar—I used to run of errands—he paid me 10s. a week and gave me my board—I was with him about a month—I have worked for Mr. Hyam in Gracechurch-street—my wife and I sometimes earn as much as 7s. a day—when I lived in Lambeth-street I used to pay 2s. 9d. a week for our room—I have never sent the prisoner in an account of the 60l., but I have asked him for it several times—this book (produced) contains the account—it begins May, 1862, and ends December 19, 1864—the first bill for 25l. which Mr. Suffolk declined to discount was torn up—he tore it up himself—the prisoner has complained on a former occasion of my putting his name to a bill without his authority, but that is false—I never told Mr. Roper, at the end of March, that I had two bills belonging to the prisoner, and that I would put them into a party's hands to sue him—I might have said I would put them into a party's hands, but I had not got the bills—I believe I said they were in a party's hands—I received a letter from the prisoner about the 20th of December, insisting upon my returning the bills to him—I have not got that letter—I suppose it is destroyed—I wrote him back to say they were already discounted—he said in his letter if they were not returned by 12 0'clock he should advertise them in the "Times" as not being negociable—I never showed the bills to a person named Jordan, of Holland-street, Black friars-road—I do not know any one of that name—this receipt, (produced) dated 1864, is, "To balance of account 1l. 4s. 6d"—I suppose that was for little jobs that I had done for him.
JAMES QUINNELL . I am a leather-seller, and reside at 11, Globe-road, Mile-end—I remember seeing Mr. Suffolk and William Martin at the Catherine Wheel public-house in December last—William Martin presented a bill to Mr. Suffolk, and Mr. Suffolk wrote him a cheque out.
FRANCIS HEDGES . I am a builder, and reside at Bow—I hare known Mr. Suffolk a great many years—I remember about November last meeting him in the City—the prisoner is my brother-in-law, and at that time he was keeping a luncheon bar in Basinghall-street—Mr. Suffolk did not tell me what business he had with Martin—it came to my knowledge afterwards that he had two bilk.
ROBERT PACKMAN . I am one of the detective officers of the City of London—I apprehended the prisoner on a warrant—the warrant was read to him—he said, "I made an affidavit on the 22nd July, in Birchin-lane; it is correct, it is a true one"—I then took him to the station.
MR. WILLS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN SPARKS ALEXANDER . I reside at No. 2, Mansfield-road, Kentish-town—on the evening of the 20th of August, between 8 and 9 o'clock, I was in Idol lane, Billingsgate—when I came to the passage by the church some one ran against me and pulled at my watch—there were four or five people there—the person got my watch and was running away with it when
the prisoner came in front of me and struck me in the eye—I followed the man who had my watch as far as Billingsgate, and then lost him—I then ran after the prisoner and caught him under a lighter—it is a "dummy," what fish is landed on at the waterside—the value of the watch is 7l. or 8l.
WILLIAM HEWERT TURNER . I am a compositor, and work at No. 5 and 6, Little Tower-street, City—between 8 and 9 o'clock on the evening of the 28th of August I was at St. Dunstan's-hill—I heard a cry of "Police" and "Stop thief"—I saw a man coming from the direction the cry proceeded—he was siding against the wall as it to keep in the dark as much as possible—I followed him, and when he saw me he ran up Harp-lane, into Thames-street, and then into the market—while I was looking for him the prisoner was brought out of Love-lane, opposite, and then I saw the prosecutor for the first time, and he said, "That is the one that struck me in the eye," and some one behind said, "Step it, hook it," and the prisoner ran from those that held him, through the market, and got under a "dummy"—I assisted in getting him out—he said at the station, "If you will let me go I will never do it any more."
EDWIN SANSOM (City-policeman, 526.) The prisoner was given into my custody, by one of the custom-house officers, about 9 o'clock, on the evening of the 29th of August—the prosecutor charged him with being connected with others in stealing his watch, and also with striking him in the eye—the prisoner made no reply—at the station he said if we would let him go he would not do it again—he refused his address.
Prisoners Defence. I was coming from London Bridge-station. I heard a gentleman cry out, "Stop thief;" he said, "I have lost my watch," and then he said I was one of them. I never struck him.
GUILTY .*— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. GENT conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY THOMPSON . I live at No. 7, Walmer road, Plumstead—I was present at the marriage of the prisoner with Susan Jane Fox, about seventeen years ago, at Charlton—I saw her alive on the 17th of last August—they lived together eight or nine years—she left her husband to live with another man—I saw nothing of her for about eight years, until I saw her last August—I lived near the prisoner at Woolwich—he told me he had heard she was dead.
CATHERINE MAHONEY . I have been married to the prisoner three years and six months—I knew that he was a married man, but it was reported that his wife was dead—he has been a kind hardworking husband to me, and has held one situation nineteen years—I was married to him at Plum-stead.
EDWARD MARSHALL (Policeman, R 311.) I got this copy (produced) of a certificate from the clerk at Plumstead church—I compared it with the register, it is a correct copy—the last witness gave him into my custody on the 15th of August—I told him the charge—he said, "It is a very bad job, she has been away from me nine years and one month."
NOT GUILTY .
Confined Four Days.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
RICHARD ALBION HOLLIDAY . I am a builder, and in February lived at 2, Pembroke gardens, Kensington—the prisoner was in my employment upwards of two years—I am nearly blind; I have had five operations—early in February, I gave the prisoner a cheque for 50l. to go into the country and buy me two horses—I told him he had better start on Sunday morning—he afterwards sent me the cheque back by letter, and I sent him a 50l. note instead—he came back on the Sunday week following, and I found fault with the horses that he had brought back, particularly one of them—he said, "The 50l. was not enough, and I gave 51l. for them, and borrowed a sovereign of my father to pay it"—he said that he gave 24l. 5s. for one horse, and 26l. 15s. for the other—I saw no more of him that evening, but on Monday when he came in to his tea, I said, "Give me the receipts for the horses, or I shall not pay you the extra money"—he said that he had lost them, but after five minutes, he fumbled about in his pocket and said, "Oh, here they are"—these are them (produced)—I then gave him the 1l. and also 1l. for his week's wages, and 19s. for his traveling expenses and corn, making 2l. 19s.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you known him some time? A. He and his brother and sister have been with me three years—I have lived with his sister three years and a half as my wife—(Receipt read: "Mr. John Warren, Bought of Mr. Dickenson one bay mare, 24l. 5s." on which was a receipt-stamp, and the word "paid" but no signature. MR. BIBTON contended that this was not a receipt, and that the evidence only amounted to obtaining money by false pretences (See Reg. v. Harvey, Russell and Ryan, p. 227.THE COURT would not stop the case, but would reserve the point if it become necessary)—I got the two horses, and have them now—I took the prisoner from the plough-tail, and he has robbed me—I have paid him what he charged me, and he went to work on his father's farm part of the time—he was eight days in the country—if he had said he had borrowed 5l. of his father, I should have paid it to him, because I believed his word.
THOMAS DICKENSON . On 14th February, the prisoner came to me to buy a horse, and on the 16th, I sold him a bay mare for 23l. 10s.—none of this receipt is in my writing, nor is this word, "paid"—I did not authorize the prisoner to write it.
THOMAS CATCHPOLE . I am a farmer of Austin, in Suffolk—about 16th February, the prisoner bought a horse of me for 26l.—no portion of this paper is in my writing, nor did I authorize him to sign it—it is not true that he gave me 26l. 15s.—I gave him no receipt—he gave me a 50l. note, and I gave him a cheque for the difference—the horse was worth the money—(THE COURT left it to the Jury to say whether the prisoner uttered the paper, called a receipt, with intent to defraud)—The prisoner received a good character.— GUILTY of uttering.
THE COURT read over the evidence of Richard Albion Holliday, and Thomas Catchpole, to which they assented.—The prisoner received a good character.— GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Confined Four Months on this Indictment only.
MR. PATER offered no evidence.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution.
AMBROSE GIBBONS DITTOS . I am a solicitor, of 35, Trinity-square, Southwark—on 14th September, I was in Fleet-street, about 1 o'clock, and saw the prisoner with his hand in a gentleman's pocket—he drew it out with a silk handkerchief in it, and began to wipe his face—I seized his hand, and took the handkerchief—he ran away—I ran after him; another witness caught him, and he was handed over to the police—this is the handkerchief (produced.) Prisoner. Q. were here not several persons collected at the corner of Bouverie-street, and did not you have to wait on the kerb? A. No I did not stop the gentleman, because I had to run after you—he was gone before I caught you.
ALPHONSO MIGOTTI . I am a solicitor's dork, at 1, Serjeant's Inn—I was in Fleet-street, on the left-hand side, and saw the prisoner going towards Temple-bar—Mr. Ditton leant forward, and I saw a handkerchief in his hand—the prisoner immediately crossed towards Fetter-lane—Mr. Ditton cried, "Stop him"—I caught hold of him—he dropped on the ground side-ways, to throw me over him, but I lifted him up—he slipped his coat, in the hope of getting out of my hands, but I held him—before Mr. Ditton came up he said, "I picked it up; I was only wiping my nose with it"—he begged me very earnestly to let him go.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you say at Guildhall that you saw Mr. Ditton pick up the handkerchief from the ground? A. I suppose the Magistrate took my words, "take" for "pick"—I objected to it, and you will see it altered in the depositions.
Prisoners Defence. In a case of this description, there ought to be a third party; there is only my word against Mr. Ditton's; I picked the handkerchief up, and was secreting it, when Mr. Ditton saw me; he held out his hand for the handkerchief, and I gave it to him.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted in November, 1862, in the name of Daniel Foster; to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years Penal Servitude. (The prisoner had been twelve times in custody.)
THIRD COURT.—Friday September 22nd, 1865.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SLEIGH conducted the prosecution,MR. WARTON defended Harris, and MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS defended the Turrills.
HENRY ADAMS . I reside at 145, Tottenham-court-road, and am manager to Mr. Maple, an upholsterer there—we have a person Darned Jackson in our employment, a polisher—the prisoner Harris has worked for us, but Jackson was his master—he employed the prisoner for us—he was in the habit of coming there—on Thursday, 24th August, I saw him go up stairs—he went to a part of our place where there was nothing kept but chair frames, in a roof—I saw him come down and go out of the shop, and I followed him out down the Hampstead-road, and saw him go into Turrill's—that was the day before he was taken—I gave instructions to an officer named Chapple—the next day Harris came again, and went up into the same roof—I watched till he came down, followed him out, and saw the officers follow him to Turrill's—he had no business up in the roof—he had occasionally to go up to fetch chair frames down from the floor below, but not from the next floor—after he was taken I found some table covers, table cloths, pieces of cloth, and several other things in that roof—it is not a place where we deposit property in the course of business—I saw these table cloths (produced) at the station-house when Harris was taken—they arc Messrs. Maple's property—the things I discovered in the roof were of a similar description, and I saw these very cloths in the roof the night before Harris was taken—I went up to see what there was, and saw these table cloths, and nine or ten more huge ones—when the officers went to Turrill's I waited outside—Turrill has no connexion with our establishment in any shape or form—I did not know the man—he is a tailor, I believe.
Cross-examined by MR. WARTON. Q. You are not quite clear about the date, are you? A. I believe it was on Thursday; it was the day before he was taken—I saw Harris go up stairs, and saw him leave the warehouse—I noticed something that attracted my attention—I saw that his trousers stuck out, and his person was bulky.
EDWIN CIIAPPLE (Policeman, E 36.) I received instructions from the last witness in August, and on 24th I went to Mr. Maple's premises, and saw a large quantity of property up in a loft there—I did not see anything of the prisoners on that day—next day I saw Harris coming from the direction of Mr. Maple's—I watched him up Tottenham-court-road and Hampstead-road—when he got to the corner of Henry-street, I saw that he observed Mr. Adams—he then walked up Henry-street, and put his back against Turrill's shop window—it is a very small shop window; one side is a barber's—he stood there till Mr. Adams was out of sight, and then he popped in—I was in plain clothes—when I first saw Harris, I observed he was very bulky, and I saw something move in his apron—I went into Turrill's shop with another officer, and saw the female prisoner—I said to tar, "Where is that man gone, who has just come in?"—she said, "There is no young man been in here"—I said, "I am certain there is"—she said, "oh, yes, there is; he has gone through the barber's shop"—I then searched the house, and in the second-floor front I found the two male prisoners—I said to Harris, "Where are those things that you have brought in here?"—he pulled up his apron, and then took it off—he did not say anything—I asked him again, "Where are those things you have brought in here?"—he said, "I have brought nothing in here," and Turrill said, "He has brought nothing in here"—I then asked him again what he had brought in, and he said he had not brought anything—we were going to starch the place, and Turrill said, "You have brought some things in here
to machine"—he then pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked a box in the room, and in it were these things—I saw a sewing machine in the back room—I found two tickets on Turrill; one relating to an opera glass, a pin, and a ring—I asked him and his wife where the rest of the tickets were, and Turrill said, "You have got all I have"—on a further search, behind a looking-glass suspended from the wall, my brother officer, in my presence, found these papers, containing twenty-eight duplicates—we all went together in a cab to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. WARTON. Q. Did Harris wait and watch Mr. Adams out of the way? A. He watched Mr. Adams out of Right, and then went in—Mr. Adams was not following with me—he passed the end of the street.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. How long a time time elapsed from the moment you saw "Harris, go into the shop, "till you went up. stairs? A. I don't know—I told you at the police-court half a minute, but I searched the bottom part of the house first—I went into a yard, and looked over a wall, and went into a wash-house—I said that before at Bow-street, when Mrs. Turrill was in custody.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. How long was it from the time you got into the shop till you got up-stairs, and saw the prisoners? A. Three or four minutes.
FRANCIS BEATLESTONE (Policeman, E 80.) I was with the last witness when the prisoners were taken into custody—the next day I took Harris from the police-station to the Court—on the way he said, "What induced me to take the cloths was seeing a corner of one of them hanging through a hole in the ceiling."
MARY ANN SPENCER . I know Turrill and Harris—I have been in the habit of going to Turrill's house very often—I worked for them, and used to call in—I have seen Harris there pretty often when I have been there.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Have you seen Furrill making purchases at your shop on different occasions? A. Never but once, about fifteen months ago—I am generally in the shop—these marks are peculiar to our shop—every shop has a peculiar mark—I suppose there are about thirty shop-servers in Messrs. Maple's drapery department—it is a large establishment; these tickets are not always torn off before the goods are sent out.
THE COURT considered that there was no evidence against Ellen Turrill— NOT GUILTY .
Samuel Turrill received a good character from three witnesses, but Chapple stated that he had been a constant associate of the worst thieves and burglars at the West end of London, and was called the "thieves tailor."
GUILTY .— Seven Years Penal Servitude.
HARRIS.— GUILTY .— Five Years Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. SLEIGH and F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
MESSRS. HARDINGE GIFFARD, Q. C., and MONTAGUE WILLIAMS defended Taylor. MESSRS. RIBTON and COLLINS defended Kelly.
of 2, Pancras-lane, City—I let out part of my house as offices—on 28th January I let the second-floor to a person who gave the name of Brewer, at a rent of 20l.—this is the memorandum that I made—I reside there—there was no business whatever carried on—I think I only saw Brewer three times; once when he took the office, and once afterwards on the 18th April—at the time he took the office the prisoner Kelly was with him—I did not notice any peculiarity about the features of the man who took the office——nothing about his nose, that I observed.
CHARLES BURGESS . I am in the service of Messrs. Brown and Sons, 81, High-street, Birmingham—in January of the present year I was in London, managing the business of a person named Benjamin Nicholl in Oxford-street; he was brother-in-law to the prisoner Kelly—I knew a person of the name of Farnham in London in the early part of this year—I have seen him at my shop, 144, Oxford-street—I have seen him with Kelly very often—I know his handwriting—the acceptance to this bill (produced) is in Farnham's handwriting, and also the signature to this agreement—I never saw Farnham at No. 2, Pancras-lane—I had a conversation with Nicholl in the presence of Kelly about a person named Brewer, who was going to take an office in Pancras-lane, No. 2, I believe—Nicholl said that Mr. Brewer was in their employ in Dean-street, and that he was a worthy and respectable man, and if any inquiries should be made, he should feel obliged if I would state that to any person who might call to make inquiries about him—he said that reference was given to Burgess and Co.—I forget whether it was Nicholl or Kelly said that.
COURT. Q. Who are Burgess and. Co.? A. The boot-making business in Oxford-street was carried on in the name of Burgess and Co.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Look at that bill, purporting to be accepted by Brewer. A. That is also in Farnham's handwriting—this other document, signed "Edward Reeves and Co." is in the handwriting of Farnham, and these copies of letters, also this paper, signed "H. Hamilton"—it is marked b——those papers marked E E, C C, and F F, are all in the handwriting of Farnham—I have seen Farnham in company with the prisoner Taylor on one or two occasions at the shop in Oxford-street—Nicholl, Farnham, Kelly, and Taylor were together on both those occasions—I know Kelly's handwriting—these papers and letters (produced) are in his handwriting, and these are in the handwriting of Nicholl.
THE COURT considered there was no case of forgery made out.
NOT GUILTY .
ALFRED DAVIS . I am managing clerk to Mr. Scott, of 16 1/2, Langbourn-chambers, Fenchurch-street—I know the prisoner Taylor by that name, and Kelly by the name of Reeves—Taylor came to Langbourn-chambers, and took an office under this agreement at the rent of 130l. a year—after he had taken the office the name of "Frederick Reeves and Co." was painted up—Taylor brought Kelly there about three or four weeks afterwards—he said, "This is Mr. Reeves, and he will carry on my business while I am in Birmingham, for I shall be very seldom here"—after that Kelly came day by day to the office—there were two clerks—I know one of them by the name of Hamilton.
business at Birmingham—I have seen this document (produced) before—it came through my agent, Mr. James K. Johnston; it bears date 30th June—I received it shortly after that.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Were you ever there, and saw him act as clerk? A. I was in the room sometimes—he was writing at a desk.
JOHN GOLD COPE . I now reside in St. Paul's-square, Birmingham, and conduct a steel-pen business there—in consequence of an advertisement that I saw in the Birmingham Post in June of this year, I came to London, and went to 36 and 37, Langbourn-chambers, Fenchurch-street—I saw Taylor; he was introduced to me as Mr. Reeves by a person passing under the name of Hamilton—I noticed that Mr. Hamilton's nose inclined a little on one side—Taylor gave me an order.
THE COURT considered there was no evidence of forgery in this case.
THOMAS FRANCIS SHAW . I am the sub-manager of the Birmingham Banking Company at Birmingham—at the latter end of March the prisoner Taylor came to the bank, and had a conversation with me about opening an account—he wanted to know our rates of commission—I asked him the nature of his account, and asked him whether he should want to pay in bills—he stated he should want to pay in trade bills, and should require to draw against them—I then asked him how many would be current at one time—he said, "Some 4,000l. or 5,000l."—I then referred him to the manager—he subsequently opened an account at the bank—we were in the habit of furnishing our customers with credit papers—this is one of them (produced)—I believe it is Mr. Taylor's handwriting—there are five entries on the credit paper—among others this bill of 279l. 8s. 9d.—I believe the endorsement to this bill of exchange to be in Mr. Taylor's handwriting—the endorsement to this other bill of 134l. is also in Taylor's handwriting—I know nothing whatever of the other part of the bills—both these bills were paid into the bank by Taylor (The first bill was for 279l. 8s. 9d., dated April 10th, 1865, drawn by J. Mardlin, accepted by H. W. Ward, 36, Seething-lane, endorsed J. Mardlin, Benjn. Taylor. The other was dated April 10th 1865, payable four months after date, drawn and accepted by the same persons, endorsed J. Mardlin,. Taylor)—both of these bills were dishonoured—they were placed to the credit of Mr. Taylor, and he drew against them.
HENRY WILLIAM WARD . I am a wine merchant, of 36, Seething-lane—I know nothing of the prisoners—I never saw them before I saw them in custody—these acceptances, "H. W. Ward," are not in my handwriting or written by my authority—I have no customer of the name of J. Mardlin.
Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did your son live with you until recently? A. Yes—his name is H. W. Ward—I don't know where he is—I saw him perhaps three months ago—he is out of the way in consequence of having been sued on a bill.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did he ever carry on business at 36, See thing-lane, as a
wine merchant? A. Never—he had nothing whatever to do with the business at my place in any shape or form.
The COURT considered that there was no evidence against the prisoners of forgery.— NOT GUILTY .
THOMAS FRANCIS SHAW (The evidence of this witness as given in the proceeding case was read over.) These bills (produced) are drawn and endorsed by the prisoner Taylor—they purport to be accepted by H. Hamilton and Co., 14, Fitzroy-street, Ftizroy-square—they are drawn April 1st, March 25th, and March 20th, 1865—one is for 49l. 9s. 10d. one. for 23l. 17s. 10d. and one for 32l. 9s. 6d.—those bills were carried to the credit of Taylor, drawn against and subsequently dishonoured.
FREDERICK WHACK . I live at 14, Fitzroy-street, Fitzroy-square—in December, 1864, a little after Christmas day, Kelly came to my house and took a room—he signed this paper—I think there was a name put up, but I cannot remember what it was.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Did you see him sign that paper? A. Yes. (This was an agreement between William Whack, of 14, Fitzroy-street and Messrs Collier, Kelly, and Son, to let an office. Signed Collier, Kelly, and Son, Witness, F. Whack)
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did Kelly come much to the office? Yes; he came there very often—there was no person occupying my room of the name of Hamilton from Christmas to April—Kelly was there shortly before I was summoned to appear—a short time before Kelly came a person named Hamilton rented my rooms—he was not there when Mr. Kelly came—he might have left a month—he owed something when he left.
Cross-examined by MR. GIFFARD. Q. There was a real person of the name of Hamilton, who carried on business there in November? A. Yes; Kelly did not come there from time to time while Hamilton was there, to my knowledge—I have said that he paid out two executions for Hamilton—that was after we shut them out—I stated that from what I had been told—I think I heard it from the broker who was put in possession—I can't say when it was—it was in 1864—several letters came addressed to Hamilton after Kelly was there.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. At the time that Kelly wanted to take the place, was the broker in possession of Hamilton's goods? A. I don't think there was anything there the second time—at first there was—I would not let Kelly have the room unless he paid the amount that was owing by somebody else—Kelly said he wanted the premises—during the whole of the time that Kelly was there I never saw a person named Hamilton, or the Hamilton who had been living there before.
The COURT was of opinion that, however suspicious the facts might be, the charge of forgery was not made out.— NOT GUILTY .
There were other indictments for conspiracy, which were postponed until the next Session.
Before Mr. Recorde.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution,MR. RIBTON defended Speck and
MR. METCALFE defended Hendry.
ROBERT WALKER . I live at the Graving Dock Tavern, and am a blacksmith—about half-past 9, on the 8th of June, I was keeping watch at the Graving Dock—whilst doing so, I saw Ashton and Hendry walking by the side of the fence—Hendry appeared as if he had something under his coat—Speck spoke to a lad who was minding a horse and cart—he came out of a public-house close by, and called the Jad to him—I could not hear what he said—the lad took the horse and cart up the road—I did not follow it—I was in the dock—I was with the constable at the bridge afterwards—I there saw Speck in the cart; before this the boy took the cart up the road—I went into the dock with the watchman, and went to the fitting-shop, and when we opened the fitting-shop door, we saw the door of the turnery open, and the fence broken—that was the fence next the road—anything could be taken out of that broken fence, and put into a cart on the road—I was searching the place with the watchman, and some one called for him, and said the cart was at the bridge—I ran up the road—when I got to the swing bridge, I saw Speck in the cart; no one else was with him—I asked him what he had in his cart—he said "Nothing"—I removed a sack that laid in the cart, and found this iron (produced)—it is used for smiths' forges—it was at the bottom of the cart—there was a sack in the cart—a sack was all that covered it.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. How much time did all this occupy? A. About two hours and a half, or three hours—Speck said something to the boy, and the boy took charge of the horse and cart—Speck stayed by the door of the public house—there were not a great many persons at the tavern that night—I can't say how many were inside; there were eight or ten outside—I do not know how long Speck had been in the cart—he was in the cart at the bridge, and the policeman had charge of him.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Where does this lane you speak of lead to A. To the end of the dock—there is a foot-path by the hedge—it is used for going to Stratford—people going from or to the Graving Dock Tavern, would use it if they came from Stratford—it was about 100 yards from the Graving Dock Tavern that I saw the men—the path is wide enough for a horse to go a certain distance—the cart was standing along-side of the public-house in the lane—there was no one in the cart then.
COURT. Q. How far did you see the boy go with the cart? A. I saw it pass the gates of the Graving Dock—the last I saw of it was going towards the place where the fence was broken—it was a wooden fence—the part that was broken was between the bridge and the Graving Dock Tavern.
THOMAS MOULE . I am a watchman at the Graving Dock, and live in Huutiugdon-terruce, Victoria Dock-road—on 8th June, about twenty minutes past 11, I went to the fitters' shop—I found the south side door open—it ought to have been shut—I looked at the fence; it was broken—
I had seen it an hour before quite whole—I followed the last witness up to the cart—Speck was in it—I saw this iron—the evening before it was lying between the building and the fence—there was some iron-work and valuable brass-work in the fitting shop.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. What time did you get to the bridge? A. It must have been about 12 o'clock, or perhaps a few minutes before—I saw Speck in the cart then, by the swing bridge—I cannot say how long he had been in the cart—he was in custody of the policeman Martin.
WILLIAM COX . I live in Huntingdon-terrace, and am a watchman at Messrs. Drew and Campbell's works, at Silvertown—on the night of 8th June, from information I received, I went to a field between the Graving Dock and the fitting-shop of the Graving Dock—there is a road between—about a quarter or twenty minutes past 11, I heard a noise like breaking a fence open—I was about forty or fifty yards from the fence at that time—I stayed where I was, and saw something like iron, something very heavy, put into a cart, and after it was put in, some men drove away with it—the iron Was brought through the fence—Speck was in the cart—I had known him before—he lives at Cannon-town—I could not tell how many other men were there—there were five or six in the cart—the swing bridge is about half a mile, I should think, from where the fence was broken—there is a foot-path along the bank, going from the Graving Dock into the road—I do not know that anybody had a right to go that way, but many do.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was it very dark? A. No; a moonlight night, nearly a full moon—I had known Speck, perhaps, three or four months; we took greengrocery" of him—there was a road and a wide path of green between me and the cart, a fence and a ditch, there is a railway where the trucks come down, and then a road, about fifteen yards wide—I was kneeling on one knee at the time I saw this—the fence is not five feet high there—I think three or four feet—it is in rails—I could look under it—I should not know the other men if I were to see them—nobody told me that it was Speck's cart—I have never said it was—I saw him at I ford the next day—I heard he had been taken up for stealing iron from the Graving Dock—nobody told me whose cart it was—there were two more in custody then—I never saw a boy in the cart.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. How long after the iron was put into the cart was it driven away? A. Very shortly afterwards, hardly a minute—I went to a constable—I did not try to stop the cart—I am not a "sworn in" roan—as soon as the iron was put into the cart, I saw the other men jump up, and they all drove away together—I do not know where they came from.
AARON MARTIN (Policeman, K 182.) On the night of 8th June, between 11 and 12, I was on duty in North Woolwich-road, near the Graving Dock Tavern—the last witness spoke to me, and I went to the swing bridge with him—I saw a cart standing by the bridge—four men got out of it, and ran away over the bridge—the cart could not go across at that time; the bridge was on the swing—Speck was in the cart—I asked him what he had got in his cart, and he said, "Nothing"—on looking, I found this iron—I asked him where he got it, and he said he did not know it was there—I took him into custody—I can swear to Ashton and Hendry being two of the men who jumped out of the cart—I had seen them about before, but I had not known them long.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Is there a tavern near this swing
bridge? A. Yes, and one near the Graying Dock—the Graving Dock Tavern is about half a mile from the swing bridge, or from that to three-quarters—the other is not above a hundred yards from the dock—I saw Speck in the Graving Dock Tavern that night—I do not know how long he had been there—when I came up to this cart, Speck was sitting in the cart holding the reins—the iron was covered up with a sack—I did not have a glass of ale with Speck that night—I had one with myself—I saw him outside about ten or twelve minutes before I saw him at the swing bridge.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Do you know Plaistow Marshes? A. Yes; I know were Hendry lives—a person going from the Graving Dock Tavern to his house would pass the swing bridge—it is over a mile from the Graving Dock Tavern to his house.
RICHARD SAUNDERS . I am an engineer, in the employ of Messrs. Jones Brothers, of the Thames Graving Dock Company—I have seen these pieces of iron—they are the property of my employers—I have known them about nine months now—they are about 100 lbs. in weight, and worth about 10s. 6d.
Hendry's statement before the Magistrate: "I was on the drink on Thursday with Ashton—we saw the cart, and asked for a lift up—I never saw the iron before—I know nothing about it."
MR. RIBTON to AARON MARTIN. Q. Where does Speck live? A. On the marsh, about a mile from the Graving Dock Tavern—the swing bridge is on the way to his house.
ASHTON and HENDRY received good characters.— NOT GUILTY .—SPECK.— GUILTY .
He was further charged with having been before convicted of felony on 4th February, 1865.
WILLIAM BROOKS (Policeman, K 44.) I produce a certificate—(Read: "Essex, 4th February, 1865; John Speck, convicted of stealing 3lbs. weight of rice, the property of the St. Katherine's Dock Company; confined twenty-one days")—the prisoner is the person described in that certificate.
GUILTY.— Confined Twelve Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
Before Mr. Justice Shee.
This case was removed for trial at this Court, under the provisions of the Homicides Jurisdiction Act of 25th and 26th Vic. c. 65.
captain in the Royal Engineers, and brevet-major in the army—on Friday, 11th August last, I was standing on parade in the barrack-square, Chatham, about one o'clock P. M.—Major de Vere was there also, about three or four yards from me; Captain Hinds, a brother officer, was standing between me and Major de Vere—it was the ordinary every day parade for work—I should say about three hundred men were present, not under arms—both Major de Vere and I were on duty—the report of a gun attracted my attention, and I saw Major de Vere in Captain Hind's arms—I went to his assistance—I heard him say twice, "Oh, my God"—I saw blood running from under his coat—I carried him partly off the parade—I then gave orders that men should be posted at the back doors of K and L houses; those were the only two houses on that side in which the single men are quartered; there are two other houses, occupied by married men—I went with other men to post at the front doors—on arriving at the front door I met a man named Mason—in consequence of something that Mason said to me, I went up to room No. 4, that is a room on the first floor, which faces the parade ground—when I got into that room I found the prisoner there; he was alone, he had on the same dress he has now, with a cap—there was a smell of burnt powder in the room—I said to him, "Did you do this?"—his answer was, "Yes, sir"—his manner was very respectful and calm—I asked him for his rifle and his pouch—he pointed out his rifle to me, it was in the arm band at the head of a bed in the same room; the pouch was hanging on the accoutrement pegs, at the head of the same bed—I took the rifle and examined it; it had evidently just been discharged—there was an exploded cap on the nipple—I examined the pouch—I found one round of ball cartridge and two caps deficient—the prisoner was then removed to the guard room.
CAPTAIN FREDERICK HINDS . I am second Captain in the Royal Engineers, stationed at the Brompton barracks, Chatham—I was present at the parade on 11th August, standing beside Major de Vere, on his left—I heard the report of a gun, and a few feet in front of Major de Vere I saw the ground thrown up—Major de Vere cried out and staggered about a little and then fell into my arms—when I heard the shot fired, Major de Vere was standing with his back to K house—I assisted in carrying him off the parade.
WILLIAM MASON . I am a sapper in the Engineers—I was stationed at the Brompton barracks in August last, and had been so for some months—I know the prisoner; he was also in the regiment, and had joined it about eleven months—I remember the parade taking place on 11th August last—I was not on the parade, I was cook's mate that day—the prisoner was not on the parade, he was cook's mate in one of the rooms—he was excused from parade for that reason—he was in his room, No. 4, in K house—that is on the second floor, counting the ground floor—I was in No. 3 room, opposite, there is a lobby between—I heard a noise, I could not tell what it was—I went to the window and looked out and saw Major de Vere in the arms of an officer—I went in to Currie, and said, "My God, there is Major de Vere shot, did you see it?"—he said, "Yes, I did it"—I said, "You did it?"—he said, "Yes, why would I not shoot the old b——"—on that I went and gave information to Lieutenant Durnford, and he came up to the room.—I heard him say to the prisoner, "Did you do this?" and he said, "Yes, sir."
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. I think when you went in the first time, you found him sitting on the bed? A. Yes, in a quiet, collected
manner, without any agitation—upon being asked the question by Lieutenant Durnford, he immediately, without any hesitation, said, "Yes, I did it."
GEORGE FREETH . I am a corporal in the Royal Engineers—on 11th August I was at the barracks at Brompton—after Major de Vere was shot I went up to No. 4 room, with Lieutenant Durnford—the prisoner was asked by Lieutenant Durnford if he was the man that did it—he said, "Yes"—he was asked by Lieutenant Durnford where his rifle was, and he pointed with his finger to where his rifle stood, at the back of the bed, and Lieutenant Durnford examined it.
NICHOLAS BOWDEN . I was one of the regimental guard on 11th August—I was present when the prisoner was brought in, after Major de Vere was shot—some short time after he was put in the prisoner's room, and I was put as bayonet sentry over him—I asked him what made him do it—he replied, "Why would not I do it?" and he said he would explain the reason when he went before the Colonel why he did do it—he said he would tell Colonel Browne, it was because he (Major de Vere) was a tyrant, and a rogue, and a thief in his heart—I asked him where he fired the shot from, and he said he fired it from the middle of the room—he said, "I took a fine sight of him, and aimed for the middle of his back"—he said he would die before he would injure 'ere another officer on the parade, particularly Colonel Browns—he said that his mother was dead, and the only one he cared anything about was his poor father, and it would break his heart—he said there was another officer speaking to Major de Vere at the time, and he waited till he got out of the way, lest the ball should pass through Major de Vere—he did not say anything to me about when he loaded his ride, or about his having been punished.
EDWARD EVEREST . I am superintendent of the police at Chatham—I received the prisoner into my custody from the military custody at 3 p. m. on 11th August—I read the charge to him, it was for shooting Major Francis Horatio de Vere, with intent to kill and murder him—he said, "Very well"—I visited him every morning at the cell, and he either asked me or I told him every morning how the Major was—I told him he was better, he said, "Well, I am happy, sir, over what I have done, I think I have done right, and I hope God will forgive me"—on the 23d I told him it was my duty to inform him that Major de Vere was dead, and that he would now be charged with the wilful murder—he said, "What time did he die? When did he die?"—I said, "At a quarter past ten last night"—he said, "That is all right."
JAMES ANDERSON . I am a sergeant in the Royal Engineers, stationed at Chatham—on 26th May last the prisoner was at work at field work—I was in charge of the party—he did not work properly; he was idling repeatedly during the day—(MR. SLEIGH wished to take the opinion of the Court whether this evidence was not of too remote a date to bear upon the present charge; MR. JUSTICE SHEE could not exclude it, and expressed his approval of the evidence being given)—I told him to go on with his work, and if he did not pay more attention to his work, I would report him to the first officer that came—he did not go on with his work properly—about two o'clock in the afternoon Major de Vere came up, and I reported the prisoner and another man to him for repeatedly idling on the works—Major de Vere said to them, "I shall check you both a day's working pay," and he told them if they did not pay more attention to their work he would recommend them to go through another course—nothing else was said—the prisoner was sent back to his work—he did not do his work properly for the rest of the day—I was engaged
for a short time on same other work, and on looking round I saw Currie standing idling—I said, "Currie, go on with your work"—he said he would not work without pay—I said, "Pay or no pay, go on with your work"—he again refused, and I told him to put on his jacket—he did so—I told him before another sergeant that if I confined him it would be for disobedience of orders, and that was a serious crime, and that he must either go to work or to the guard room—he refused, and said he would rather go to the guard room, and I sent him to the guard room with the sergeant, and he gave his crime to the orderly corporal in the usual way—he was confined for six days in the cell, 140 odd hours; that was for disobedience of orders.
JAMES BALFOUR COCKBURN , M. D. The deceased Major de Vere was under my care from nine o'clook in the evening of the day he was wounded to the time of his death—I attended him for a gunshot wound in the chest—he died on Tuesday night, 22d August—I made a post-mortem examination of the body—I found that a bullet had entered the hack of the chest, between the fifth and sixth ribs—it had penetrated completely through the left lung, and escaped between the fourth and fifth ribs anteriorly, smashing the fifth rib in its passage through—the cause of death was inflammation of the lung, resulting from the wound caused by the bullet in its passage through the chest—the rest of the organs of the body were perfectly healthy.
MAJOR WILLIAM BUTLER GOSSETT . I am second Captain in the Engineers—I was in the same corps with Major de Vere—on 4th August I read at parade an order of the commanding officer, in consequence of a report of Major de Vere—I did not read the report—I cannot say for certain whether the prisoner was present on that occasion—I know, as a fact, that he was put on a course of field work a Second time.
The SOLICITOR GENERAL did not think it necessary to sum up the evidence, but reserved his right of reply MR. SLEIGH desired to take the opinion of the Court, whether the Solicitor-General was not bound, under the recent Art of Parliament, 28 Vic., c. 18, to sum up the evidence and close his case, he (Mr. Sleigh) not calling witnesses for the defence; he also contended that although from usage it had grown into a practice for the Attorney or Solicitor-general' to reply upon the whole case, whether witnesses were called for the defence or not, no legal right of the kind existed; the late statute delared what the practice in all cases it should be, and reserved no right to the Crown, which, if any such right really existed, it would have dons in express terms, The SOLICITOR-GENERAL urged that the right of reply, so far from being an innovation, or an irregularity, was one of the most ancient that existed, in connection with the administration of Justice; it had never been questioned but once during his time, and then it had been affirmed by Mr. Baron Bramwell. Mr. Baron Martin had once mid he should confine it to cases where the Attorney General appeared in person, therefore, of course, the right of the Solicitor-General would be the same; then had the recent statute taken away that right? it was a well-acknowledged proposition of law that no Act could affect the Crown or any of its right, except by express words; there were clearly no such words in the statute, the effect of which was merely to give a new right, and not to take away any old one. MR. JUSTICE SHEE. "I think you are entitled to reply if you think it necessary."
GUILTY .— DEATH .
Before Mr. Justice Montague Smith.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES FITZGERALD . I keep a boot and shoe shop, at 5, Nightingale-vale, Woolwich—on the night of 7th August, I fastened up my shop—about half-past 2 in the morning. I was called up by the police—I came down stairs, and found two shutters down, a pane of glass broken, and a pair of slippers lying on the ground outside—the shutters were fastened with screws—I missed a boot—the slippers were my property—they had been in the window—they were worth about 3s., and the boot was worth 8s. 6d.
SAMUEL SHERRAN (Policeman, R 458). Between 2 and 3, on the morning of 8th August, I was on duty near Woolwich-common—I heard footsteps, and saw two men and one woman—as soon as they came to the corner of Nightingale-vale, they stopped about a minute—the female then came on in advance, about fifteen yards, said something in a low voice, and immediately afterwards I saw the prisoner Buckland forcing the shutters of Mr. Fitzgernld's shop door—I knew the others—I had seen them before—there was one man and a female; the man must have been close by when the shutters were forced, but he was not in sight—as soon as the shutters were forced down I heard a smash of glass, and saw two men and a female run from Nightingale-vale towards West-lane together—I ran across the road and apprehended Buckland—I had not lost sight of him from the time I saw him take the shutter down—he said, "I will go quietly with you; I have nothing about me; it is the others"—the other man and the women ran away—I then went to Mr. Fitzgerald's shop, and called him up—the window was broken, and a pair of slippers were lying about a yard and a half from the window outside—I believe the woman I saw was the prisoner Smith; she was about her appearance and height the prosecutor's shop is about 300 yards from General Warde's quarters on the common.
Murphy. Q. Did you see me? A. The other man was a man about your height—it might be ten years ago since I knew you first—I could not swear you had anything to do with the burglary.
JAMES JENNINGS (Policeman, R 131). Between 7 and 8 on this night, I was sitting by my window, and saw Buckland and Murphy and two other men going in the direction of Woolwich—my house is within about ten minutes' walk of Fitzgerald's shop—there was no woman with them—I had known Buckland since September or October.
Murphy. Q. How far were you from me when you saw me with Buckland? A. On the opposite side of the road—I was looking out at the window—I distinctly saw you—I had known you since January last.
JOSEPH KNIGHT . I am a gunner in the Royal Artillery at Woolwich—on the morning of 8th August, I was on guard as sentinel at General Warde's house on Woolwich-common, from 12 to 2; at half-past 1, I saw the prisoners coming towards me, over the Common—they were singing, and I told them to be quiet—they went past the General's house, down Nightingale-vale—they passed close to me—it was a fine moonlight night.
Murphy. Q. What did you speak to us about? A. Told you to keep quiet, as you would wake all the people in the General's house—you made some remark, and went on—I took particular notice of your features—I did not notice your dress—I swear to you by your features—I never saw you before—I received information of this burglary on the Sunday following—the constable came to me, and I afterwards saw you together, and identified you.
MR. DALY Q. Had you any particular reason for noticing persons who passed? A. Yes—the General's house was robbed a week or two before and we had strict orders to take notice of persons passing during the night.
COURT Q. How was the woman ressed? A. In a black cloak and a white comforter round her neck and a bonnet—I had never seen her before.
GEORGE ROSS I am a gunner in the Royal Artillery—on the morning of 8th August I was on guard at General Warde's Q. uarters—I relieved Knight at 2 o'clock—the prisoners passed me between ten minutes and a Q. quarter-past 2—I went close up to them and followed them fifty yards past my post to see them clear of the General's Q. quarters down Nightingale-vale, close to where the robbery was committed.
Murphy Q. Did you stop and speak to us? A. No. you made some remark as you passed—I took particular notice of you.
COURT Q. Did you know either of them before? A. Never—the woman had a white comforter on her neck and a bonnet no veil.
SAMUEL LINO On Wednesday morning 9th August from some information that I received I went to a house in Prince s-road Plumstead and in a bedroom on the top-foor I found Murphy and Smith partly dressed—I said, "Thomas Murphy and Emily Smith you are charged with breaking into a shop at the corner of Nightingale-vale on Tuesday morning"—Murphy said, "I dont understand you"—I said, "It was Tuesday morning between 2 and 3 o'clock following that of last Monday night"—Murphy said, "I was not out at all that evening"—Smith said, "I was in by half-past 12"—I said "Dress yourselves you must go to the station"—I allowed them to walk together—on the way Murphy said to Smith "If they come to you don't split one word about it" a little further on he said "If they come to pump you in the cells dont let out one word about it"
Murphy Q. How far were you from me when I said that? A. Within you spoke in a low tone, but quite loud enough for me to hear—the other constable walked on the right of me—he heard some of what you said.
The prisoners statements before the Magistrate: Buckland says "I am innocent" Murphy says, "I was in bed on that night at half-past 12" Smith says "I am innocent; I was in bed at half-past 12 and Mrs. Welsh and her daughter can prove it"
Buckland's Defence. At the time the policeman says he saw me with Murphy I was at work. I was coming down by the shop at the time the robbery was committed and the constable came and took me.
Murphy's Defence. On 8th August, I was indoors by half-past 12 with this female. At the time I was charged my mother and Mrs. Welsh told the constable they would prove I was in bed. Mrs. Welsh did not come as her son-in-law was going to India; the Magistrate sent us for trial because the woman was not there.
Smith's Defence. I never was in Buckland's company at all that evening.
SMITH— NOT GUILTY .
MURPHY and BUCKLAND— GUILTY .
MURPHY also PLEADED GUILTY to a former conviction of felony in March 1864
** Seven Years Penal Servitude.
BUCKLAND— Confined Twelve Months.
Before Mr. Recorder
MR. COOPER Conducted the Prosecution and MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS the defence.
GEORGE BEARDMORE . I live at the works of the General Steam Navigation Company in the Stowage Deptford—on 15th May, 1864, on going into the ore garden, I saw that it had been upset and traced the marks of a large pipe as if it had rested on the ground—in consequence of that I examined the factory which adjoins the garden and found that three copper pipes were missing—they weighed about 600lbs. and they were worth about 35l.—I had seen them there on the Saturday before—I traced the marks to a field next to the garden and there lost them—the prisoner had worked in the factory some time previous—he would know all about the premises—on the Monday after this I saw the same pipes in the possession of the police.
Cross-examined Q. This robbery was a year and four months ago? A. About that—three persons were tried for the same robbery in June 1864—the prisoner was in our employ about twelve months before the robbery.
RICHARD WOOLFORD . I live at 1, Hayles-street, Deptford, and am a labourer—one Monday in May 1864 about half-past 5 or quarter to 6, the prisoner came to my father's house and engaged his horse and ran—I went with him into Copperas-lane Deptford—the prisoner told me to back the van round to the posts—I did so and he went along with another man and fetched out a pipe put it in the van and went back and fetched another—there were three pipes altogether—when they were all in the van the prisoner told me to drive up as far as the Half-way House in the Kent-road—I drove towards there as directed—before we got to the Half-way House the police stopped the ran and took the pipes in it.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined at the trial of the other man who were convicted? A. Yes. Hill and O'Connor were their names.
JOSIAH TURNER . On Sunday the 16th May last year I went into the premises of the General Steam Navigation Company—I examined the garden and found several footmarks and saw that something had passed over the fence and on the ground at the other side of the fence there was the impression of a large flange—I traced the marks across the adjoining field over another fence into a lane—a cart could pass down that lane—it is 200 or 300 yards from Copperas-lane—there were prints of two small wheels as if a barrow had been drawn up to the fence—I followed the track of those wheels into the neighbourhood of Pope's-buildings—on Monday morning about 3 o'olock I and two other constables secreted ourselves in a garden at the bottom of Copperas—lane—about half-past 3, I saw the prisoner come out of No. 13 and he marched about two or three times close to where I was—two other men joined him and they went to and from there until about half-past 5 or quarter to 6—I then lost sight of the prisoner—he then came down Copperas-lane with a van—Woolford was with him—the van was bucked up to the end of a narrow street against some posts—the tail board was taken down and the prisoner went away with one man and the other stood and watched—shortly afterwards they returned with one of the pipes and put it into the van they went again and brought out the three and the van started off—I ran after the three men—the prisoner ran into a house in Griffin-street about 150 yards off and I tost him—I did not see him again till he was taken into custody, about a fortight or three weeks ago—I have been looking for him since the robbery several times—I saw what was in the van—the pipes were afterwards shown to Mr. Beard more.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you been examined before? A. yes; I said before that one of the men stood and watched—I will not say on this case that I did—I did on the other case—I did not say that before the magistrate—I knew the prisoner by sight previously.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
897. JOSEPH WOULD (21), and EDWARD KENNETT (18) , Burglary in the dwelling-house of Joseph Russell and stealing 1 hearth-rag, value 12l. and other goods. Would was further charged with wounding the constable.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH RUSSELL . I live at No. 8, Medway-terrace—on the morning of the 27th of July my house was broken into—it was entered by the drawing window at the back of the house—the fastening had been removed or slipped—it was quite safely fastened the previous night—I saw my wife do it—I was called by my servant in the morning and I missed several things—a hearth-rug an ivory church service a curd case a flower stand, and a lot of little things—this hearth-rug and churcb service (produced) are my property—there are several things still missing—I came down stairs about half-past 6.
JOHN SPRAGGS (Police-constable R 149.) About 5 o'clock on the morning of the 27th of July, I saw three men in Brockley-lane—the two prisoners are two of them—Would was carrying a large black bundle—I followed them till I could get assistance—they crossed overcome fields to Nunhead Cemetery and got nearly up to them at the bridge—when I was on the bridge the three men turned back—I did not mean to attack them but Would before a word was spoken struck me with a stick about the head and body—I took him into custody when he called to the other two "Come here come here"—and Kennett turned round and drew a telescope from his side pocket, and struck me over the head and cut my lip through—this is the telescope (produced)—I was knocked down—my head is still very giddy and I can scarcely see—the prisoners ran away and I followed them—when going towards the old Kent-road, they separated—one went towards Dulwich and the other two to Peckham-lane—I followed these two and saw Would throw the bundle away near the Kent-road bridge—in the Kent-road Would took off his over coat and pave it to Kennett—they then separated and I continued to follow Would—Kennett ran through the lime-yard close to the canal bridge—I lost Would near the St. Helena gardens—I have known Would three or four years but Kennett I never saw before until this morning—I found the bundle where I saw Would throw it—these plated articles were found in the coat (produced)—the coat was dropped in the lime shed and was brought to me afterwards.
HENRY FORDHAM (Police-constable H 197.) I apprehended Would in Spitalfields on the 28th of July—I told him I should take him in charge of or being concerned with another in breaking into a house at Blackheath—he mid "You won't"—I told him I should—he said, "If you put a hand on me I will have your b——life"—I took him into custody and with the assistance of another constable got him to the Spital-square station.
JAMBS FLOYD (Police-constable H 126.) I took Kennett into custody on the 18th of last month in Brick-lane Spitalfields—I told him I should take him into custody on suspicion of being concerned with another, in custody, in a burglary at Deptford—he said, "I know nothing about it. I am a honest man I have not been about this neighbourhood but three
weeks, I lived at the Three Crowns, Mile End-road about a twelve-month and I lived in Deptford about eighteen months ago at a fish shop"—I afterwards asked him if I should go to the Three Crowns in the Mile End-road and ask about his character and he said, "They don't know much about me there I have not lived there for two years"—he was identified by the other constable and taken to Deptford and lodged there for the night.
WOULD, GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
KENNETT, GUILTY .— Seven Years Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
JAMES EDWARDS . I am in the service of Mr. Maxwell the prosecutor, who is a farmer at Kidbrook—he had some ducks—on 18th of last month we minted seven about 8 o'clock in the morning—I had seen them age the night before—I saw them dead on the 18th at the Greenwich Court—I am quite certain the two drakes were our's and the others are very much like what we lost—I know nothing of the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. How can you swear to the ducks? A. I swear to the marks—I know them so well from feeding them for three years—we were looking all about for them between breakfast and dinner.
RICHARD AUSTIN (Policeman R 49.) At 6 o'clock on the morning of 18th August I saw the prisoner in Trafalgar-road East Greenwich carrying a bag and a basket—I stopped him and asked him what his bag contained—he said, "Ducks"—I asked him how he came by them—he said he was a breeder—I asked him where he came from—he said "Blackbeath village"—I asked him where he lived there—he said he did not exactly know but he lived with a Mrs. Green—I took him into custody—there were two drakes and five ducks in the basket and bag dead—I showed them afterwards to the last witness and he identified them by the marks—it was about a mile and a half from the prosecutor's house that I met the prisoner.
Prisoners Defence. I have been in the habit of buying ducks and fowls for the last three months to bring to London; I bought these of a man at Black heath for 7s. and was coming to London with them when the policeman stopped me.
GUILTY .— Confined Four Months.
899. HERBERT BEALL (23), and JOHN MURPHY (22), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Frederick Woodbridge and stealing 4 salt spoons and other articles his property. BEALL having been before convicted, Seven Years' Penal Servitude. MURPHY— Confined Eighteen Months. And
CAMERON PLEADED GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. WARTON conducted the Prosecution.
Plumstead—on 20th August, about 2 o'clock, Almeida came in for a glass of mild ale, which came to 1d.—she gave me a half-crown—I told her it was bad, and she gave me a good one—Mr. Cook was sitting behind me.
Almeida. I did not know it was bad.
THOMAS COOK . I am a firework maker of Plumstead—I saw Mr. Weeks serve Almeida—when she left I followed her, and saw Cameron join her in Orchard-street—they were side by side, touching one another, and I saw something pass from Cameron to Almeida, who went to the Lord Derby public-house, and Cameron went on—Almeida next went into Mr. Huston's, a grocer's shop, and I went into the Lord Derby, and spoke to the landlord—I then went to the grocer's, and found Almeida there—I told them to detain her while I followed Cameron—I found him sitting on a stone at the gate of the Arsenal—he denied having any bad money—a constable searched him in my presence, and found seven half-crowns in the tail of his shirt—I took the constable to the grocer's shop, and Almeida was given in charge—I asked her what she had done with the bad half-crown she had tried to pass at Mr. Week's—she said, "I bent it up, and threw it away."
Almeida. I was not with this man. Witness. You walked with him for nearly a quarter of a mile.
JOHN AYLWARD (Dock-yard-constable). I was at the gate of the Royal Arsenal, and Cook pointed out Cameron to me—I searched him, and found seven bad half-crowns rolled up in the tail of his shirt, and a shilling, three sixpences, and three halfpence in his pocket—Almeida denied having been with him—Mr. Weeks gave me two shillings and three-pence.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These seven half-crowns are bad, two of them are from one mould and two from another—here is a broken one which is from the same mould as two of the others—there are two moulds for five coins.
ALMEIDA, GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ROBERTS . I am the wife of Thomas Roberts, who keeps a beer house at Battersea Park—on 10th August, about 3 in the afternoon, Johnson came in for a pint of beer, with a bricklayer's labourer—he had on a striped shirt, a lightish pair of trousers, and a cap—he had some of the beer—Johnson gave me a florin, and I gave him one shilling, a sixpence, and fourpence in halfpence—I opened the till and put the florin in—there were several shillings and sixpences there, but no florin—they then left for ten minutes, and nobody came in the meantime—Johnson then came back with Harvey, who called for a pot of beer, and gave me a florin—I thought it was not good, and took it into the bar-parlour to my husband—he examined it, and I came back to the bar, took out the florin I had taken from Johnson, and gave it to my husband—they were both bad, and I told
the prisoners so—Johnson said, "I did not give you a florin, I gave you a shilling"—I said, "No, you did not, you gave me a 2s. piece"—he said afterwards, "I gave you a fourpenny piece"—Harvey said, "I did not know that it was bad"—one of them gave me 4d. in halfpence.
COURT. Q. Would 4d. be the price of a pint? No—Harvey called for pot, but they said that they only had the price of a pint, and they Altered it to a pint, and gave 2d.—Johnson was there then.
Johnson. Q. Did not I give you a sixpenny piece for a pint of beer for this man and me? A. No, you both came in together.
Harvey. Johnson did not go into the house with me.
THOMAS ROBERTS . My wife showed me two bad florins, and I said to the prisoners, "I shall send for a policeman, and have you both locked up" Harvey said that he did not know the florins were bad—Johnson said that be paid a shilling, and not a florin, and afterwards he said that it was a four-penny piece—I went to the door, and saw a man with his foot on the step, who ran away as quick as he could—he was dressed as a bricklayer's labourer, in light clothes and a light striped shirt—the prisoners were detained, and I gave them in charge with the florins.
Johnson. Q. Were there not 300 or 400 people at work within 200 yards of your house? A. Yes—you were both together.
larvey's Defence. I saw a man opposite the public-house, and asked him to come and have a pint of half-and-half with me. I did not know the florin was bad. This roan did not go in with me; I do not know him; he went in afterwards and called a for pint of beer for himself. When I was told the florin was bad I told the landlord to take the pot of beer back. I must have got it when I was loading a muck-barge. I told the sergeant where I lived.
Johnson's Defence. I went into the house twice; I paid with a fourpenny piece the first time, and for the second I chucked down 2d. The landlady said, "When you were here before you gave me a bad 2s. piece." I said, "No." I never saw Harvey before I saw him in the house. I never saw a had florin before, and have not had 2s. good or bad, since Christmas, for I have been in the infirmary.
THOMAS ROBERTS (re-examined.) Johnson paid the 2d. and said that that was all the money they had got—I told my wife to let them have the pint, it would make no difference—a pint was poured back out of the pot, and a pint left in—they both drank of it.
HARVEY, GUILTY on the Second Count. — Confined Nine Months.
JOHNSON, GUILTY on both Counts. — Confined Twelve Months.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
RACHEL HANKS . I am barmaid at the Forrester's Arms, Blackman—street—on 1st August, the prisoner came for a pint of half-and-half, and gave a half-crown—I put it on a shelf at the back of the bar, gave him change, and be left—he came again in about half-an-hour for a pint of half-and-half, and gave a half-crown, which I put with the other, gave him change, and he left—he came again at 6 in the evening for a pint of ale, and gave
me a half-crown—I put it with the other two, gave him the change, and he left—I afterwards saw Mr. Bridges take the three half-crowns from the shelf—on the following Saturday, 2d September, he came again for a pint of half-and-half and some tobacco—he offered me a crown—I showed it to Mr. Bridges, who was standing at the door, and said to the prisoner, "You are the man who came here on Thursday, and gave me three half-crowns, one of which was bad"—he said, "No, you are mistaken, I was not in London at the time, I was in the country at work."
Prisoner. Q. Was there any more silver on the shelf? A. No; the other two half-crowns were good—I have not said that the three were bad.
WILLIAM RICHARD BRIDGES . I am landlord of the Forrester's Arms—on lst August I took three half-crowns from the shelf at the back of the bar—I put them into a glass where I put the day's takings, and when I counted the silver next morning I found one lad half-crown out of twenty or thirty—on 2d September I was standing at the bar, and not liking the prisoner's appearance asked the last witness what he had given her—sire said, "A. crown"—I looked at it, and said, "Why, this is bad"—the prisoner said, "I was not aware of it, I should like to take it where I got it from"—I had nailed up the first one, and said, "I expect you took it where you got this one"—he said, "I do not know what you mean"—my little boy said, "I think you must have been the man who gave the half-crown on Thursday"—the barmaid said, "There is no doubt about that"—the prisoner said that he was not in London—I gave him back the bad crown.
Prisoner. Q. You said before that you found it that night? A. Yes; but I did not know it was bad until next morning—I am sure you are the man who was there on Saturday—I went and picked you out in the dark, imme diately the cell door was opened.
JAKE STARK . I am single, and keep a tobacconist's shop in South wark-bridge-road—on 2d September the prisoner came for a quarter of an ounce of tobacco, which came to 1 1/4 d.—he gave me a florin—I gave him change and put it in the till—there was no other florin or large money there about two hoars afterwards I found it was bad and gave it to M 35—on 4th September the prisoner came again for half an ounce of tobacco, which came to 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a bad half-crown—I gave it to Ann Blackborough, who came back with Mr. Barnes, and I gave the prisoner in charge with the coin.
Prisoner. Did anybody else come on the 6th? A. Yes, a man, who tendered me a half-crown which I saw was bad—I told him I had not got change, and he walked out—I did not recognise you in the evening as the person who came on the 2d., because it was dusk, but I did in the morning.
Prisoner. Q. What did she say at the station? A. That you had been there and tendered the half-crown—she told me she did not think you was the man, but it was then dark—I do not remember her saying before the Magistrate that she knew nothing about you.
Prisoner's Defence. It is my firm belief that somebody has given her that florin since, and she has brought it to get a poor man convicted. The prosecutor led me out into the passage, and said, "This is the man that I expect passed the bad money in your shop." He gets a bad florin to make the case look clear against me, and then he gets a publican to come up who cannot swear whether I gave the half-crown or not I own to having one half-crown, but not the other. I got 2s. 5d. and a pennyworth of nuts for it.
GUILTY .— Confined Two Years.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED BREWER . I am barman at the Rose and Crown beer-shop—on 18th August the prisoner came for a pint of ale—she had a small bag in her hand—she gave me a crown—I bit it, told her it was bad, and gave it to the potman Hackett—the prisoner said, "I did not know it—I had it of my father"—Hackett gave it to me and I handed it to the prisoner, who gave me three halfpence, and only had half a pint of ale—she left the house, and I followed her with Hackett to Tarrys—a man joined her, and when she got to Tarry's the man crossed to the other side of the street.
JOHN HACKETT . I am potman at the Rose and Crown—on 8th August Brewer gave me a crown—I put it in my mouth, returned it to him, and saw him give it to the prisoner—I went out, spoke to a constable, and saw the prisoner at Tarry's door—she left there and came down Francis—street—I stopped her and took her to a policeman—the man ran away.
WILLIAM TARRY . I live at 16, Francis-place—Banks gave me a crown, and I went to the prisoner, who was at the door, and asked her if she had any small change—she felt in her bag and found a halfpenny—she said that 8he would call again with the three-halfpence—I said that that would do—I gave her the crown back—I said nothing about it being bad.
ELIZABETH HARRIS . I am the wife of Samuel Harris, of Francis-street, Newington—I saw Hackett and the prisoner in Francis-street—I saw the prisoner take her hand from her pocket and drop something, which fell on my foot—I picked up a crown and handed it to the prosecutor.
JOHN KINETON (Policeman, 83 P.) On 18th August, I saw the prisoner standing at Mr. Tarry's door—Hackett had previously spoken to me—I followed her, and found her stopped by Hackett—I asked her to show me the five shilling piece she had been trying to pass at Tarry's—Mrs. Harris came across the road and gave it to me (produced)—the prisoner had a jog, which was given up to her—she gave her address 19, Western-road—I took it down in writing and went there—nothing was found on her.
GUILTY .— Confined Six Months.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN CORTE . I am the wife of Joseph Corte, who keeps a pie-shop at Star-corner, Bermondsey—on 27th August the prisoner came for a penny pie, and gave me a shilling—I told her it was bad—she said she did not know it, and gave me a penny—I gave her in charge with the shilling.
GEORGE STANFIELD (Policeman, 307 M.) I took the prisoner and found the shilling—I said, "Have you got any more of that about you?"—she said, "No; I have no more money about me—I only had that shilling and penny" she was handed over to the female searcher at the station, who found 4d. in her presence saying that she found it on her—the prisoner could hear that but said nothing—the prisoner gave her name Elizabeth Britton, 4, Lant—street, Borough—I went there.
GEORGE RANDALL . I am a grocer, of 9, South-street, Walworth—on 27th August the prisoner came for 1/2 oz. of tea and 1/4lb. of sugar, which came to 2 1/2 d.—she gave a half-crown; I gave her the change, and put the half-crown in the till, where there was no other half-crown—directly she got to the door I took it out, found it was bad, and showed it to my wife—I after wards gave it to the policeman—on 26th August the prisoner came again for 1/2oz. of tea, a halfpenny-worth of pepper, and 1/4lb. of sugar; they came to 3d.—she gave me a shilling—I gave her the change, put the shilling to my mouth, and said that it was bad—she said that it was good, and that her son gave it to her, and afterwards she said her brother—she snatched it up, threw down a penny, saying, "I will take the 1/4oz. of tea," and ran out—I caught her crossing the road, and asking her her address—she said, "4, East-lane"—I said, "I should just like to walk down with you, as it is not far"—I saw a woman sitting down whom I had seen with her before, but I spoke to the prisoner before she could get to her friend—I watched the prisoner in South-street, and saw that she did not know what to do, and when we got to Mr. Rivera's, I heard something splash in a pool of water—I stooped down, and took out the shilling she had tendered to me—I knew it because it was black—I said, "Mr. Rivers, retain this woman; she has dropped the shilling in this puddle of water"—I gave it into his hands—she snatched it from him, and said, "It is a good one; I do not live at East-lane. now; I used to live there"—I wanted her to go to the shop, but she would not—when she got to Sandford-road, she said, "Come this way," and rushed into Mr. Edneys, and said, "I live here"—I gave her in charge—I asked her about the shilling she had snatched from Mr. Rivers—she said, "I threw it away before your face"—I did not see her throw it away.
Prisoner. You knocked it out of my hand with your elbow into a drop of water. I afterwards chucked it away, saying that it was no good to any-body. Witness. I recognised her on the 26th, and was on the watch.
SOPHIA EDNEY . I am the wife of James Edney, a carman, of 5, Sand-ford-row, Holborn—on 26th August the prisoner, who I had never seen before, came running into the passage, saying, "Oh! let me go into the back-yard"—she did not lodge with me; I have no knowledge of her.
Prisoner. I asked her to let me go into the yard till the people went away, as there were a lot of boys there.
JOSEPH BREWER (Policeman, P 505.) I took the prisoner, and asked her how she came to pass bad money to Mr. Randall—she said that she was very hard up, or else she would not have done it—I asked her where she got it from; she said that her son gave it to her—I asked where her son lived—she said that she did not know—I asked her where she lived—she said that she had got no home—I asked her what had become of the coin—she said that she had thrown it away, that she might not get into trouble—a penny was found on her.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about the half-crown; I never saw it. I never was in his shop before. I chucked the shilling away that no body could say whether it was good or bad.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution MR. TURNER defended Finn, and MR. HARRIS defended Farrow.
DANIEL HALL . I am a mariner—on the evening of 26th August, about 10 o'clock, I arrived at London-bridge—I had come from Gloucester from my ship—a man in a light coat was close to an omnibus, and asked me whether he should carry my chest—I went with him to a coffee-house, and had some beer with him there—I then went to a public-house with him, and saw Farrow standing at the bar drinking—Finn came in afterwards—I gave them just what they liked to drink, liquor and beer—Farrow had a pipe, and I asked him to give me a smoke—he gave me the pipe, and said, "You can keep it"—when I had done smoking I put it in my coat-pocket—I am sure I did not return it to him—I saw it next at the police-station; it was taken from him there—the man in the light coat addressed the prisoners by name—he called Finn "Bill"—there was a woman there, but I did not notice her much—I left the public-house nearer 1 than 12, I cannot exactly tell—my purse was all right then—I looked in it a few minutes before we came out of the public-house—I was not intoxicated, and knew everything—we all left together, all who were in the bar, and the woman—they were all together, except one man who stopped outside—four men and a woman were by me, and when I had got a few yards from the house they tackled me by the throat, and a hand was put over my mouth—I struggled, and knocked two of them away—two of them again tackled me by the throat, and one got on my legs, put his hands in my pockets, said, "All right; I have got it," and took out my purse, containing 4l. odd; also my scarf, and shawl, and the pipe—they all ran away—I also lost my cap, but found it next morning hanging up at the station—I know it by the scratches inside the peak—I slept in the police-station—after the men ran away, I hallooed out, "Police"—I walked down to a policeman, and they had got the two prisoners; the others had gone—I told the policeman to take them in charge, as they were the men who had done it—I was very nearly black in the face.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. Were you perfectly sober? A. No; only just a little bit drunk—I was about half tight—I cannot say that there were not a dozen people in the house when I went in—there was not a crowd—were were not three females—I let the pipe fall out of my mouth and it broke in three pieces, I picked them up and put them in my pocket—I did not go into any other public-house that I remember—I do not remember falling in with two men, whom I had seen at Gravesend—I did not attack any of the men who went out of the public-house with me, but there was a bit of a struggle—Farrow gave me the pipe—I should have given it to him if he had asked me, but he never did—I pulled off my coat in the street, and offered to fight the best of them, but nobody accepted my challenge.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. Was the train due at 11? A. I do
not know what time it was due at Paddington—I came to Paddington and took a bus—I had bad one glass of ale when I started from Gloucester—I afterwards bad only three or four glasses of beer and porter—I do not think that would knock a man over very much—I had no spirits—four or five men came out of the public-house together, but I only saw one woman-a woman was charged with the prisoners, but I could not identify her—they all touched me when I was on the ground, and Finn must have been one that helped, because they were all around me—I did say, "I cannot say whether or not Finn touched me," but he must have—he was standing at the bar, but not with me.
MR. WOOD. What were you doing when you took off your coat? A. That was after the robbery—the policeman would not let me fight.
JURY. Q. Did you get off the omnibus at the station, or at London Bridge? A. Close to the station—I was going to Dover next morning, and the man with a white coat carried my box the man at the booking-office knew me.
LAWRENCE BURKE (Policeman, A 465). I found this cap (produced) about sixty or seventy yards from South wark-street, pushed down between the hoarding and the pavement stone—I handed it to Stevens, and the prosecutor identified it.
RICHARD STEVENS (Policeman, M 66). On Saturday morning, 26th or 27th August, I was 60 or 70 yards from Castle-street, and heard a cry of "Police," which appeared to come from Counter-street—before I got there, I was met by a woman named Larson, who was afterwards taken in custody—I spoke to her—she said something and pointed towards London Bridge, which was an opposite direction—I then, heard groans, and saw a man in a light coat and the two prisoners run out of Counter-street—a man in a dark coat ran into the Borough-market, fourteen yards before the other three—the man in the light coat had a dark coat hanging from his hand, he ran towards the Blackfriars-road—he ran past the hoarding, where the cap was afterwards found—I immediately took Finn by the left hand and Farrow by the right—they were running; not very fast, but coming quickly—the woman said, pointing to Farrow, "Let my husband go, he has done nothing"—I said, "Stop a bit, we will see what he has done"—I took them to Counter-street—this was fifteen or sixteen yards from where the prosecutor was lying—he got up, and staggered towards me—he complained of his throat, and was hardly able to speak—he said, "I have been robbed"—I said, "What of?"—he said, 4l. and a "purse"—I asked him if he knew the prisoners, he said, "Those are two of them;" he expressed no doubt about them—the cap was given to me—I took it to the station and hung it up—Hall saw it, and recognised it—I found the pipe (produced) on Farrow—he said, "That is my pipe, I lent it to you in the public-house for a smoke, in the Black Horse"—Hall said, "You did not lend it to me, you gave it to me, and I bad. it on me at the time the robbery was committed"—I found the knife (produced) open, in Farrow's breast pocket.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. Did not you say before the Magistrate that it was 150 yards from the place where the cap was, to where you apprehended the prisoners? A. Yes, but I misunderstood the place where. my brother-constable picked up the cap—I did not hear the woman cry, "Police," but I asked her what she was crying "Police" for, because she came rushing towards me in a suspicious manner—I do not know who cried "Police"—there was no one in the street but a cabman or two, standing on.
Cross-examined by MR. TURNER. Q. When you took Finn, did he say where he came from? A. From the other side of the water, but I did not ask him—I afterwards learned that he lived in Disney-street—he could get there that way, but it was the farthest way—I could not pursue the man in the light coat—I found on Finn a purse, containing 1s. 5d. but nothing relating to what the prosecutor lost—Maddix was one of the witnesses at the police-court, but was not bound over—he represented himself as a potman, at the public-house where Hall had been drinking, but he said before the Magistrate that he was not a potman.
COURT. Q. In what state was the prosecutor? A. A little the worse for liquor, but not much; he was suffering more from the injuries he had received; but he had taken some liquor.
FINN,† GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
FARROW, GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. TURNER conducted the Prosecution.
MARGARET LEWIS . I am the wife of Harry Low Lewis, and keep a coffee house in Prince's-street, London-street, South wark—I know the prisoner he has lodged with me over two months—I remember his coming home on Saturday night, the 2d of September—he smashed my windows—I begged of him not to break my looking-glass, and he said, "I will blow your brains out"—I went and fetched a policeman, and when I returned the prisoner was there; while my back was turned towards the prisoner, I heard the report of a pistol—I cannot tell whether he was sober or not.
Prisoner. Q. Did I fire at you at all, Mrs.0 Lewis? A. Yes, you did when my back was turned.
JANE PYE . I am the wife of John Pye, and live at 5, Prince's-street—I saw the prosecutrix coming towards her door—I heard the report of fire-arms, and was frightened—the prisoner fired a pistol at her door—he put the pistol in his pocket afterwards—I was about twenty yards off.
COURT. Q. Did you see the pistol before you heard the sound? A. No; I saw he had something in his hand, but I did not see what it was, as it was dark.
REUBEN BLAIR . I was lodging at the prosecutrix's house at the early part of this, on the night in question—the prisoner broke all the windows with his elbows, Mrs. Lewis went out, and after that I heard a pistol bail come whizzing by—I knew he had a pistol in his pocket, and I was afraid he would shoot me—I went in search of a policeman—we found the prisoner in a public-house, drinking beer—on the way to the station he said, forty years to come he would mark me, and blow my brains out—the prisoner was as sober as I am now.
found in his right hand waistcoat-pocket a four-barrelled revolver, containing three charges; also fifteen other charges loose—this is the pistol (produced.)
COURT. Q. What state did you find the prisoner in? A. Re had been drinking—he was much the worse for drink.
Prisoner's Defence. They shut me out, and I broke the windows to get in.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOKE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
ELIZABETH GOODNOUGH MANDY . I formerly kept a tobacconist's shop in the Old Kent-road, and now reside at 8, Horatio-terrace, Old Kent-road—the prisoner was one of my customers about fifteen months ago—I used to ask him into my back room to smoke his cigar—on one occasion I fetched my cash-box down stairs—it contained a chain, rings, pins, and different things, which I showed to the prisoner; whilst doing this, my attention was called to the shop—I was away about five minutes—the prisoner remained—some time after he had gone I proceeded to put away the things I had shown him, and then I missed a chain—I did not see the chain after that—the prisoner came the-next day—he used to come in and out every day—I told him I had lost a chain, and he dared me to accuse Him of stealing it—he took up a ginger-beer bottle, and said he would knock my brains out—I said, "I do not accuse you; it is gone, and it is very strange"—I have seen the chain since—the prisoner has been in custody at Mr. Wilmer's—he keeps a jeweller's shop in the Old Kent-road—the chain I saw there is my chain.
Mr. Wilmer, the principal witness, was here called, but he did not answer.
MR. LILLEY submitted that there was not sufficient evidence to go to the Jury.
THOMAS JENKINS (Police-constable, P 204.) I took the prisoner into custody on 28th of July last—I found upon him a chain which was given to the inspector, that inspector went on leave for a fortnight, and he gave it to another inspector, who has since gone on leave of absence.
NOT GUILTY .
There was a further charge against the prisoner.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK JONES . I keep a coffee-house in the Walworth-road—I know the prisoner—he was a customer of mine—about the 27th June, he came into my shop with another young man, and asked me to change a cheque;—I told him I did not change cheques—I and the prisoner then went over to Mr. Groom's, the Rock public-house, to get a glass of ale—his house is opposite mine—the prisoner called for some ale, and produced a cheque—I asked Mr. Groom to change it—he brought a pen and ink—the prisoner
signed the cheque, and Mr. Groom changed it—we drank our ale, and went back to my place, where the prisoner's friend was waiting.
ARTHUR THOMAS GROOM . I am the landlord of the Rock public-house in he Walworth-road—on the 27th June, the last witness and the prisoner came to my house—Jones presented a cheque to be cashed—this is the cheque (produced)—I cashed it for Jones, knowing him to be a respectable tradesman—I put a pen and ink on the counter, but I did not see the prisoner use it, as my back was turned to get the cash—the cheque was returned to me in the course of a few days, dishonoured.
DORSET PALMER NEALE . I am a solicitor, of 15, Kennington Park-rood—the prisoner was, in 1864, a clerk in my employment—I have seen him write constantly—the body of the cheque is in his handwritings and I believe the signature, "John Wyatt," is also in his handwriting.
JAMES HAM (Policeman, P 45.) On the 21st of last month I met the prisoner on Camberwell Green—I said, "Leatham, I hold a warrant for you"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "For being concerned with a man named Bastable, in forging and uttering a cheque on the 27th of June last, at the Rock public-house, in the Walworth-road, and obtaining 6l. 10s."—he said, "Yes, it is a bad job, that Bastable is a d—rogue"—I should not have done it if it had not been for him; it was his cheque, and he had 3l. of the money"—I then took him to the station.
Prisoner's Defence. I admit getting the cheque cashed, but I did not forge it A man named Bastable gave it to me.
GUILTY of Uttering. — Confined Twelve Months.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ROSA ANNIE WEALL . I am the wife of Mr. William Weall, of Wood-cote-villas, Loughborough park, Brixton—on the morning of 10th August, I was awoke by a noise—I first of all went up-stairs, thinking it was a child ill—I then heard the noise again, and went down-stairs—when I got to the dining-room I saw a man kneeling at the sideboard, surrounded by the contents of it—thinking that others were there, I immediately ran up-stairs, and called, out "Thieves!" and a policeman came—the prisoner got through the kitchen window on the other side of the house—the constable sprang his rattle, and I saw him stop the prisoner—I have been shown a cigar-case, a handkerchief, a rule, and some stockings—those articles are the property of my husband—they were in different parts of the dining-room the night before—I also lost three keys, which the prisoner afterwards gave to the constable—Mr. Weall picked up the key of the plate-chest—the desks and workboxes in the dining-room were all tossed! about—the sideboard has been tried in six places, and the panel was broken—all the kitchen drawers were ransacked, and a cupboard broken open in the children's schoolroom.
Prisoner. Q. Can you recognise me as the thief you saw at the cupboard? A. No—I saw the constable take you—the person the policeman took wag the same who left the house.
attention was drawn to Woodcote-villas, Loughborough-park—I saw that the kitchen window-blind was cut away from the frame—I saw a man come eat at that window into the yard in front of that house—I stopped him—it was the prisoner—he drew this knife (produced) from his breast—I told him to drop it, and he threw it to me—I took him to the station—he had get about ten yards from the window when I seized hold of him—on the way to the station he offered three keys to Mr. Weall, saying they were no use to him—I have not got them now—these are the things Mrs. Weall identified, and which I got from the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. Will you swear I am the person you took? A. Yes; I know you—the inspector saw me take these things from you.
WILLIAM MELAY (Police-inspector, p.) I went and examined the premises of Mr. Weall after the prisoner was taken—I found that the kitchen-window had been forced, a blind torn, a rent made in the wire-blind, and the hinges of the shutters forced—there were footmarks on the green in front of the kitchen window outside, and I found footmarks inside corresponding with them—I found several wax matches in the house, and the last witness found some on the prisoner which corresponded with the others—the dining-room was very much in confusion—the prisoner said at the station that he had only been a short time in this country, that he had lost all his money, and he meant to "do a turn," but it had been unlucky—there were only foot-marks of one person.
Prisoner. Q. What was there peculiar about the footmarks? A. I noticed your boots at the station, and the marks outside and inside the house corresponded with your feet—the impressions inside were wet—it had been paining very hard—I believe they were the same.
WILLIAM WEALL . This handkerchief, which was found on the prisoner, I left on the dining-room sofa the night before the robbery—I picked up the key of my plate-chest just outside the kitchen window—I have it here—the night before it was hanging up in the sideboard, which was broken open—the prisoner was in the custody of Sims when I first saw him—I went to the station with him—on the way there the prisoner said the keys were of no service to him, perhaps they would be of service to me—I said, "We will see about that at the station."
Prisoner. Q. Did you see any of the property taken from me? A. Yes, I am quite certain of that, I was in the same room.
ANNE GREEN . I am cook to the prosecutor—on the night before this happened I went to bed between half-past 10 and 11—the top part of the kitchen window was not closed then by two or three inches, as the eord was broken, but the shutters were fastened, and the wire-blind was perfectly whole—I was alarmed by Mrs. Weall in the morning, and then saw it cut all round—I saw the prisoner outside with the constable.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I have nothing to say, only it is slightly exaggerated."
Prisoner's Defence. There is nothing to prove that I broke into the house; the only evidence is that I was in custody of the policeman; he is silly, and he might have taken any one going by. I had only just come from America.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
Before Mr. Justice She.
MR. LILLET conducted the prosecution, and MR. SLEIGH the Defence.
GEORGE LACK . The prisoner is my mother—she and my father lived at 10, Skin-market-place, St. Saviour's—on Tuesday evening, 22nd August, I went to bed at 8 o'clock—my brother Christopher slept with me on a mattrass, in the same room with my mother—I had two sisters, Eliza and Esther—they slept in the same bed with my mother—my father is a watch-man at Page's coal wharf, Bankside—on Tuesday night, the 22d., he went out to his duty—I came down stairs at twelve o'clock at night—my father came home from his work at twelve—I went out a short way and returned—my father went out to call another man and came back again—I had sat down in the lower room and fallen asleep there—when my father returned he woke me up—I heard my mother call from the bedroom on the first floor—I did not hear what she said—my father went up two or three stairs—he said something to mother, I did not hear what—mother made an answer and he came down stairs again, wringing his hands—I went and caught hold of him—he went out and I went up to the bed room—I saw the two little girls lying on the bed where mother slept—I stood on the landing and looked at them—mother said, "Don't be afraid, no one will hurt you"—I looked round, and mother said, "There's Chris. he went to heaven first"—Christopher was lying on the bed, had—there was blood all over his face—I could not see what had caused his death—I saw that my sisters' throats were cut—I stood on the stairs crying—my brother-in-law, Richard Gardner, who lived in the house, came down, and he went into the room—my mother had a very bad leg, ulcers—she had an order to go into the hospital; I think it came on the Friday—after it came I heard her say that she did not like to go into the hospital and leave the children to the mercy of the world; and on the Monday and Tuesday again she said she did not like to go into the hospital to leave them to the world's charity.
Q. Has your mother been suffering from anything the matter with her head? A. On two occasions I have heard her talk about things that have not been rational—things that have not been the least true—I have heard that twice to my knowledge, of anything of note—about two months before this my father had been in the habit of going up and attending to my brother and sisters, to see what they wanted—one night father went up, and mother said, "Oh, what have you done with all them pies? you can't cheat me, I see them, half-a-dozen twopenny ones"—father said, "No, no, nothing of the kind, your head is wandering again"—he went out, and when he came back mother was groping about the room—he went up and said, "What's the matter? if you wanted anything why did you not call me"—she said, "Ah, I know where you put them, they are about this shelf somewhere"—she then went into bed—some time before that we had been in the habit of paying into a club; one morning mother got up and swept the place, and picked up half a sovereign, as she said, under the table—the collector from the club came, and she put her hand in her pocket, and took out, as I thought, this half sovereign, and handed it towards him, and he said, "There is nothing there"—she said, "Oh yes, there is half a sovereign, you can't see it"—after a time he persuaded her that there was no such thing, and then went away—these (produced) are my father's razors—they were usually kept in a cupboard down stain in the sleeping room.
Cross-examined. Q. Has your poor mother always been a kind affectionate mother to you and your brother and sisters? A. Yes—for the last seven years she has been nearly blind, and within the last twelve months a cripple, scarcely able to walk—I do not recollect a brother of her's dying abroad—some few years ago mother gave birth to three children at a time—she never received the bounty.
RICHARD GARDNER . I married a daughter of the prisoner's—on the 23rd August I was living in the same house with her—I heard no noise which attracted my attention till about four minutes past three, when I heard my brother-in-law sobbing on the first floor—my room is on the top floor—in consequence of hearing that I came down stairs in my night-shirt, and asked him what was the matter—he made me no answer—I went into the room and asked the prisoner what was the matter—she said, "That is the matter," pointing to the bed where the two children were lying—I afterwards observed the boy Christopher—he was on the broad of his back, with his hands and legs wide open, saturated in blood from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head—his head was nearly separated from his body—he was between nine and ten years of age—when I went into the room the prisoner was standing before the window in her night dress—I noticed blood right up the front of her shift, and I observed her hands, she was picking the dry blood off the back of them—the police-sergeant Pope came in soon afterwards—the prisoner had always been a kind and affectionate mother so long as I lived in the house—she was going into the hospital—I heard her say on the Sunday that she would not like to leave her children to the mercy of anybody, knocking about the streets, for she knew while she was in there she should not get any better, for the trouble of the children on her mind—I afterwards saw her in the cell at the police station—she was asleep when I first went in, I awoke her, and asked her if she would have a drop of something to warm her, and I went and fetched her a pint of tea—I asked her what she done it for—she said she did not know she had done it till she had kissed the baby—afterwards she said, "I done it, it did not take more than three minutes, Dick, and I am sorry for it; but they had better be in heaven than knocking about the streets at the mercy of anybody."
Cross-examined. Q. How long is it since you married her daughter? A. About eleven months—I married the eldest daughter—I have not known the family over a twelvemonth—during that twelvemonth the prisoner was continually complaining of pains in her head—she said she had such very great heaving sensations right across her temples—I never saw her in a fit—she has complained when I have come home of an evening of having one—I am out from two or three in the morning, till seven or eight at night, when I am at work in the market for Mr. Matthews—there cannot be a better mother to her children—I have seen her when she has had a small mutton chop take and cut it up and give it to the three children, when she has not had a piece herself.
HENRY POPE (Policeman, N 54.) About half-past three on the morning of the 23d August, I was called to the prisoner's house—I went up to the first floor room, and on the bed found the two female children with their throats cut and quite dead—on the mattrass at the foot of the bed I saw the boy Christopher, lying with his throat cut similar to the others, and quite dead—the prisoner was in the room at the time, she was just turning from the side of the bed—she had on her night-dress—she spoke to me first, and said, "I did it with a razor"—I looked round the room to find the razor, and I found these razors in a case, lying on the mantel-shelf with the
top of the case off, lying some distance from the razors—on the way to the station she told me she did it with the largest razor, and wiped it and put it in the case—I found it in the case—one of the razors, the largest one, was stained with blood, the other was not stained—they were both in the case.
GARRETT MONROE PEARCE (Police-sergeant, M 7.) I went to the house in which the prisoner lives, between three and four on the morning of the 23d—the last witness was there—I said to him, in the hearing of the prisoner, "Who has done this?"—he said, "This woman"—I then told bet that she must consider herself in custody for committing this crime, to be cautious of what she said, as it would be used against her on her trial—she said, "I know what I am doing, I did it. I awoke a little before three o'clock, I went down stairs and brought the razors from the cupboard in the kitchen; I then came upstairs. I killed Christopher first and then leant over the baby in the bed and killed Eliza, then I killed Esther, and after I killed them I kissed the baby"—I asked her why she had done it—she said she had an order for the hospital, and said she did not want to leave the children to the mercy of strangers—the witness Gardner replied, "Mother, there was no occasion for you to do this, you know I would look after the children."
Cross-examined. Q. In what state did she appear to be? A. She appeared to be calm and collected, but had a very stupid look about her, something of a vacant stare—I have known the prisoner's family for some time—I have inquired about her in the neighbourhood and found her to bear the character of an honest, hard working person, and a kind and affecttionate mother—that is the account I have received of her from ever; person.
EDWARD HIBBERD . I am a member of the College of Surgeons, and life at 67, Union-street, Southwark—about half-past three on the morning of the 23d. I was called to No. 10, Skin-market-place—I saw the boy Christopher lying on his back with his throat cut, quite dead—the wound was the cause of death—either of these razors would produce such a wound—I saw the other two children dead, with their throats cut—I have occasionally attended the prisoner for about fifteen months—I never observed any peculiarity about her, except that she was very dull and had a sort of stupid appearance—I attended her for the wound in her leg—I did not obtain the order for the hospital for her.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know the fact that she has given birth to a child within the last year or so? A. I have been informed so—I was not aware that she had nursed that child at the breast up to the very period when the crime was committed.
RICHARD GARDNER (re-examined.) The prisoner was not nursing the baby at the time this occurred—she had weaned it about a week—that was the child called Esther—the eldest girl was nearly blind, she was totally blind when she first woke of a morning—she could not see her way any where, because her eyes were closed.
MR. SLEIGH to MR. HIBBERD. Q. Does not the fact of the cessation of giving the lacteal secretion to a child sometimes cause functional derangement? A. Certainly it does, that functional derangement occasionally having a direct influence on the brain—the consequence is sometimes a mental derangement; as it would weaken the bodily constitution, so it would effect the nervous system.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Have you in the course of your practice known functional derangement arising from too long suckling a child, extend to the brain? A. I cannot call to my memory any case at the present moment.
The prisoner's statement before The Magistrate was read as follows—" I was going into the hospital and my husband was taken ill, and I did not know what to do for the children; one of them, Eliza, is nearly blind, and I thought they had better be in heaven."
MR. SLEIGH called the following witnesses for the Defence.
JULIETTA HOARE . I am sister-in-law of the prisoner—I married her brother—he has been dead about twelve months—he died of a diseased heart, which caused weakness of the brain—he was asthmatical—he was deranged for five months before his death—I have known the prisoner ever since twelve months after I was married—she was then quite a child, between twelve and thirteen—her father died about that time, of typhus fever—my husband went down to bury him, and the prisoner was just getting over it—she came up with him and took the brain fever, and she was thirteen weeks in St. Mary's Ward, Guy's Hospital—I had her at home—after that for a year and eight months—she was not capable of going to any situation; she had no memory, indeed the children used to call her silly Esther—after a while she was able to go to service, and I got her a situation at Captain Richards's—she was there, I believe, twelve months, when she was again afflicted with illness; it was a sort of dull, low illness—she would sit, and not move or speak to any one—she would not even more to have her victuals, if it was not taken to her—my doctor, Mr. Harris, of the Clapham-road, advised me to take her to the infirmary, and she was there seven or eight weeks—she was married when she was about twenty-three—in 1850, she had twins, and six or seven yean ago, she had three children at one birth—after that I observed an alteration in her mind, a sort of childishness, and she would cry a very great deal—she always seemed so oppressed in her spirits; if I went to see her she would burst out crying—she could not tell what was the matter with her—she has complained very much of her head—I saw her on Thursday, and she asked me if I thought leeches would do her good—her sight has been bad for years—since the birth of her three children it has been getting worse and worse, and now she is nearly blind—I have seen her but seldom lately, but when I have, she has always complained of her head being very bad—she always behaved with uniform kindness and affection to her children—she was always an industrious woman, and a kind and affectionate mother and wife.
Cross-examined. Q. How old was she at the time she had the thirteen weeks illness? A. She must have been just turned thirteen—I don't know how long she was ill in the country—she had just got over the typhus fever when she came to me—she bad been ill for years—the last time she was with me, before she was married, was about twenty-three years ago; just before she was married—she has been under medical treatment since then—she has been in ever so many hospitals, in two or three to my knowledge, for her weakness and debility of constitution, and for weak eyes—last Christmas she complained of her head—she was then under Mr. Hibberd, I believe for her head—I can't say exactly the last time she was in a hospital, it may be four or five yean ago—I have not lived with her; I live at Clapham—I have only seen her occasionally during the last twelve months.
SARAH MUNGEAN . I have known the prisoner for twenty years—I have not seen so much of her recently—I have observed a very great change in her appearance and manner; an abruptness of manner, and a change in the tone of her voice—I could not test her memory; I have not had
enough intercourse with her lately—she must have been about twenty-two years old when I first knew her—the change I speak of has been in her manner and tone of voice, so different to what it used to be, which be tokened weakness.
MARY GARDNER . I am a widow—my son is related to the prisoner—within the last six months I have occasionally gone in to look after the prisoner and her children—I was nursing her daughter at the time this matter occurred—she has appeared to be very lost in her mind—she would, very often, say very strange things at times, and then forget entirely what she had said—I have noticed that several times lately, three or four times in a week—she always complained of dreadful pains in her head, and choking in her throat, which, she said, would pass to her head—about a week before this occurrence, she stopped suckling the child; I persuaded her, on account of its weakening her head so—within the last two or three months she has had fits—she frequently fell down two or three times in a day—the Sunday morning was the last—she has been subject to these fits, on and off, since about a fortnight before last Christmas—they increased towards the latter part of the time—she had a very bad one on the Sunday; she went out to try and get a little bit of victuals for the children, and she fell down in the street, and was obliged to be carried home—that was not the last of them that she had before this occurrence; she had two on the Tuesday, the very day before; the first was between 10 and 11 in the morning, and the other, about 2 or 3 in the afternoon—sometimes she would be half an hour in one of these fits, and sometimes not more than a quarter of an hour—during the fits she had no senses whatever.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you live near there? A. Yes, close by—I saw her in two of the fits, and I have seen her several times, when she has just come out of them, before she has got her senses—I did not see her go into the fit; she fell down, and I went to her, to help her up—that has happened on two occasions to my knowledge—I saw her on the floor, on the Tuesday, and helped her on to a chair—I can't exactly say how long she was in the fit that day; about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes.
COURT. Q. Did you see her fell? A. Yes; off a chair on to the floor—she did not cry or scream, only like a choking, and froth came out of her mouth and nose—she would talk very curious things after she came out of the fits, perhaps for about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—she would ask how long she had been confined to her bed, and such things as that.
MARY ANN GARDNER . I am the wife of Richard Gardner, who has been examined—I have been in the prisoner's house continually for the last few months before this occurrence, I lived there—I have observed that she has had fits—I have helped her when she has been in the fits, and I have seen her go in fits—some of them would last a quarter of an hour, some three quarters, and some longer—while she was in the fits she was not sensible, and she would lose the use of her limbs entirely—her mind used to wander very much indeed—she used to say strange things—she used to ask me whether I had been to various places where I never thought of going, and she used to say she had been out to different places where she had never been in her life, and when she had not been out of doors—she has asked me if I had been to see persons that I have never known, and she has talked of persons that she never knew.
Cross-examined. Q. For how many months has she been subject to these fits? A. Since about a fortnight or three weeks before Christmas—she would have two or three a week when they first came on, and from that she
got to two or three a day—she did not make any noise or cry out when she fell down—she said the fits used to come with a tingling sensation in the first, and go all over her.
WILLIAM HAMBLIN . I am a Scripture-reader—in that capacity I have been in the habit of visiting the prisoner since the year 1848—the last time I saw her to speak to her was on the 2d August last—latterly I have observed a great change in her manner; during the last seven years, a gradual change—her intellect has got weaker—that observation applies continuonsly to the, the last time I saw her—on one occasion last winter I called on her to leave her some relief and I was speaking to her with reference to the sufferings of Christ—she said His sufferings were not to be compared to hers, for her head was in such pain that she felt that she could jump over the bank, meaning the water-side.
Cross-examined. Q. How often have you visited her? A. I have seen her five or six times since Christmas.
CHARLOTTE HART . I am a widow—I have know the prisoner twenty-two years—during the last year I have been in the habit of visiting her generally daily—she has been subject to fits since Christmas—I have not been present at the time of her having the fits—I have noticed within the Last few years that she got very forgetful, and I thought very childish in many of her ways—she has complained greatly of the pains in her head, and her eyes were in a most dreadful state—she complained of the pains in her head up to the time this occurred—when her daughter had been confined about a fortnight she asked how long she had been confined, for she had really forgotten.
Tie Jury here expressed themselves satisfied with the evidence and found the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY On the ground of insanity. Ordered to be detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
PHILIP RAYMOND (Police-inspector, M.) On Saturday evening 2d September, the prisoner was brought to the station-house charged with causing the death of Sarah Ann Scott—as soon as the charge was entered, he said, "I will tell you all about it"—I cautioned him, and said, "Whatever statement you make, I will take down in writing, and it may be used against you"—I then wrote down what he stated—this is it (reads: "She was a widow woman; her husband has been dead about five years. She has lived with me four years. She had two children by her husband. We had no dispute. When I came in, I saw she was the worse for liquor. There was no fire. I said, "Why do not you get my tea?" She made some kind of mumbling noise. I could not tell what she said. I said, "Anyway you will suffer for this; it is not the first or second time you have served me so." While she was trying to light the fire I got out of temper, and struck her. When she fell I kicked her with my foot, and I think that the heel of my boot must have made the gash in her head, and caused her death—I then went into the yard, and when I came again into the house I found she had not moved. I lifted her up, and found she was immoveable. I found her life was gone from her. I laid her head on a small block of wood, and sent for a doctor by a next-door neighbour. I fancy she was led away by Mrs. Laptrern, living in No. 2, White's-grounds")—After I took that statement I read to him—he said, "That is quite correct"—he was detained at the
station—I went to No. 3, White's-grounds, Bermondsey, and found the house in charge of a police-constable—it was a small house, only two rooms—I found the deceased on the ground-floor, lying in the middle of the floor—her head was on a small block of wood—I sent for two surgeons—Mr. Evans came—the deceased was quite dead at that time—I took off the prisoner's boots at the station—these are them (produced)—I showed them to the surgeon—on the inner heel of the right boot, there was a small patch of matter, which the doctor said was blood.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner make the statement which you have read, voluntarily? A. Perfectly so—I did not put any question to him pre vious to his making it, or make any observation—he was in the employ of Colonel Beresford, of Hartley's wharf—I did not find any duplicates in the room—some were afterwards handed to me by the prisoner's father—there was not much blood on the floor, only a patch about the size of a person's hand.
JAMES HATNES (Policeman, M 308). On the night in question I was at the police-station on duty—from information I received I went with another constable to 3, White's-grounds—I found a Mrs. Gregory there—she let me in—I found the deceased lying on the floor, with her head resting on a small block of wood—she was dead—the prisoner was sitting at the back of her with her right hand in his—I said, "Who did this?"—the prisoner said, "I did"—I cautioned him to be careful of what he said, as anything he might say I should use against him before the magistrate—he said, "I want to tell you all; about a quarter to six I came home from work, I saw the de ceased sitting in front of the fire, beastly drunk, I asked her if she intended to get any tea to-night, she muttered something that I could not understand, she then commenced cutting a piece of wood to light the fire, but she was so long about it I got out of temper, and struck her on the side of the head with my fist; she fell on the floor, and whilst lying on the ground I gave her a kick with my boot, and I think the heel of my boot must have made the gash in her head—I then went out in the yard; when I came back I found she had not moved, I lifted her up and found she was senseless, I placed her head on a small block of wood and went to Mrs. Gregory's, next door, and asked her to go for the doctor"—I then took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see some pieces of cut wood on the floor? A. No—he seemed to be very much excited by what had happened—he was crying, and in the midst of his crying he made this statement—he did not say that he had found her in the same condition at dinner time—he said at the station that he had given her the wages he had received on the Friday night—he did not say how much—he did not say it was all gone—he said of course he expected his tea when he came home on the Saturday.
SAMUEL CONGDON (Police-sergeant, M 16). About seven o'clock on Saturday evening I went to 3, White's-grounds, after the prisoner had been re moved to the station—I saw the deceased lying on the floor with her head resting on a block of wood; she was dead—on searching the room, near her feet I found this knife and some wood on the floor, apparently recently cut up—seeing some spots of blood on the knife I took it to the station—I showed it to the inspector on duty in the prisoner's presence—the prisoner said, "It was not done with that, but it was done with a kick."
Cross-examined. Q. Did you find any duplicates in the room? A. I did not—I looked in different parts of the house—I am not aware whether the deceased was searched by any one—she remained at that house until her burial, in charge of the coroner's officer.
SARAH ANN GREGORY . I am the wife of William Gregory, and live at 4, White's-grounds, next door to the prisoner—I have known him between seven and eight months by living there—a little after six on this Saturday evening he came to my door and said, "Will you come in, Mrs. Gregory"—I said, "Yes"—he did not say what for—he left my door and went into his own house again—I went in and saw the deceased on the floor, the prisoner was resting his arm underneath her—I said, "What have you done?"—he said, "Go for the doctor," which I did—I only knew the deceased by living there—I know she was given to bad habits in drinking—I had no acquaintance with her, only speaking part of the time.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you find the prisoner in a state of agitation And sorrow when you went in? A. yes, he was crying bitterly—he had got his arm round the deceased, crying over her—I had not seen the deceased that day—I saw her almost every day going in and out; she was addicted to intoxication—I have very often seen the prisoner sitting on the step of his door—as far as I knew he has always been kind and affectionate towards the woman—I have seen them very friendly together.
WILLIAM ALBURY . I live at 92, Russell-street, Bermondsey—I know the deceased by sight—I saw her on the afternoon when this matter happened, about twenty minutes to five, in Gun-alley, that is the next corner to her house—she was very much intoxicated then—I have seen her intoxicated several times.
Cross-examined. Q. Was she staggering about? A. Yes—there was another woman in her company who was also intoxicated—she was going away from her own home at that time and was carrying a bundle containing clothes—her little girl was following her, and she said, "You little——if you follow me I'll slap your face"—she made that remark twice, and the child began crying—she had two children; they both lived with her and the prisoner—I have known her by sight, between the last four and five months—I may have seen her drunk a dozen times or more in the streets—I have known the prisoner somewhere about the same time; from what I have seen he has always been a well-conducted, kindly, affectionate man—I remember sitting with him on Borne timber in Gun-alley, near his own house—he said he was waiting for his wife—on several occasions he has said that he did not like to go in when his wife was in a state of intoxication, and he sat there to govern his temper, because he would not go in to kick up a row—I knew that when she was intoxicated she was exceedingly abusive—I have seen her fighting with other women on several occasions.
THOMAS EVANS . I am a surgeon—I was sent for to the police-station on this evening, and went from there to No. 3, White's-grounds and saw the deceased—I found a severe contusion on the forehead above the left eye, and a wound at the upper and back part of the head—it was an incised wound, rather jagged, an inch and a half in length, and penetrating to the bone—the scalp was separated from the bone, to about the extent of an inch there was not a great deal of blood—I afterwards made a post mortem examination by direction of the coroner—I found effusion of blood on the inner part of the scalp, under both the external injuries—on exposing the bone I found the membranes very much congested, and on removing the membranes there was a large quantity of effused blood—the cause of death was rupture of a blood vessel on the brain—the other organs of the body werehealthy—if a person was intoxicated at the time a blow was given, the rupture of a blood vessel would be more likely to occur—the wound at the back of the head would be very likely to be caused by one of these boots—I examined
them at the station, and found a small spot of blood on the iron heel of the right boot—the contusion over the eye might have been caused by a blow of the hand or fist—the skin was not broken.
Cross-examined. Q. Might it equally be caused by a drunken person falling? A. Undoubtedly—it was a large vessel that was ruptured, in the substance of the brain itself—the blood vessels of the brain were much congested—such a condition would result from intoxication—that would render a rupture more probable, a slighter blow would then cause a rupture—I looked at the liver—the whole of the tissues were somewhat soft—I should say the liver indicated a tendency to drink.
Cross-examined. Q. Was she the widow of a man named Scott? A. Yes—she had lived with the prisoner about four years—the two children that she had by Scott were living with her, and were taken care of by the prisoner—I was present before the coroner—the jury returned a verdict of man-slaughter.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:—"All I have to say is that what was taken down is true."
The prisoner received an excellent character.— GUILTY of Manslaughter. Strongly recommended to mercy. Confined Nine Months.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, OCTOBER 23RD. 1865.