CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FOURTH SESSION, HELD JANUARY 29TH, 1866.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89,CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, January 29th, 1866, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. BENJAMIN SAMUEL PHILLIPS, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir JAMES SHAW WILLES , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir WILLIAM SHEE , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; Sir FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON , Bart, F.S.A.; JOHN CARTER , Esq., F.A.S., and F.R.A.S.; THOMAS GABRIEL , Esq.; WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, Esq.; THOMAS DAKIN , Esq., and DAVID STONE , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Goal Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, Esq Alderman.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
PHILLIPS, MAYOR. FOURTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that the 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, January 29th, 1866.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
FREDERICK FREEMAN . I am clerk to Thomas Wallis, a looking-glass manufacturer, of 40, Hatton-garden—the prisoner brought some goods from the Midland Railway Company—I paid him 16s. 4d. for the carriage of the goods, and have his receipt (produced).
JOSEPH HUDSON . I am a railway carrier—I received some goods which came to London by the Midland line for 40, Milton-street—the prisoner was my carman—on receiving money for goods it was his duty to pay it to the Midland Railway on his return—if he was too late for that he ought to have paid it into my office—the instructions are that no man shall go away with the money in his pocket—he had a way bill which specified the parcels he had to carry, the people to whom they were to be carried, and the amounts received—he ought to lodge the way bill when he pays the money, but he did neither—I saw him next morning and asked him if he had any sheets or money belonging to the railway—he said, "No," and mumbled something about 2s. in Tottenham Court Road—I made further inquiries and found he ought to have received 2s. on a parcel—I said, "Is that all you have to speak to me about?" and he said, "Yes"—his wages were 18s. a-week—he has never accounted to me for this 16s. 4d., or produced the way bill, but he took it to the Midland Railway a week or two afterwards and offered to pay it at 1s. a-week.
Prisoner. I did not do so.
he did not account to me on 29th December for 16s. 4d., received from Mr. Freeman, nor did he produce this way bill or sheet—it has not been paid, he did not come to me about it afterwards.
JOHN WILLIAM FAWKE (City-Detective, 199). On 4th January, about a quarter to nine, I went to the prisoner's house, 1, Phillip's-court, Milton-Street—I told him I should take him in custody for receiving 16s. 4d. on 29th December and not accounting for it—he said, "I have just sent down the money to Mr. Hudson's and they refuse to take it"—I asked him what he had done with the way bill—he said he had left it at the Midland Railway a week ago, and offered to pay half the money there and 2s. 6d. a-week for the rest—I took him to Moor-lane station—the way bill is here, I got it from Mr. Hudson.
Prisoners Defence. I lost the money. I went to the Midland station, offered them 6s. 4d., and asked to be allowed to pay the rest at half-a-crown a week. I did not know what to do to make the money up; I pledged a bed and sent my wife to pay the money to Mr. Hudson, but the foreman refused to receive it, saying he had no orders. A policeman came at nine o'clock and I was locked up.
COURT to JOSEPH HUDSON. Q. Did the prisoner tell you that he had lost the money? A. Distinctly not; he positively denied having any money or sheets.
JURY Q. Has he ever tendered the whole amount? A. No; I believe he went down to the foreman of the yard when he found the police were after him, and offered to pay part of it, but not all.
GUILTY .— Confined Four Months .
JOHN BROOKS . I am foreman to Mr. Morrison, a rope-maker, of Norton Folgate—on 13th June the prisoner came, and presenting this order, said, "I have come for a bolt of canvas" or some canvas—it was in an envelope—I do not know whether it was fastened, it was addressed to Mr. Morrison—I opened it and looked at it—I know Mr. Pike by name, he has dealt at the shop—I delivered a bolt of canvas to the prisoner and made an invoice out—we afterwards sent the bill in to Mr. Pike, applying for the money, and found that the canvas had been improperly obtained—I then gave information.
Prisoner. Q. Have not you seen me before? A. I am not certain—this bill (produced by the prisoner and receipted August 30th, 1865), is in my writing.
COURT. Q. Does that satisfy you that you wrote that receipt on 30th August? A. Yes—I do not know to whom this bill belongs—it is not made out to anybody—it is for thirty yards of canvas and some twine—I suppose it was a ready-money transaction in the ordinary way of business, either with the prisoner or some other person.
Q. If you cannot remember whether this is a bill for what you sold him in August, how is it you can remember he was there on 13th June? A. I remember it, and I made a memorandum in our book at the time he had the goods, and here is. a. copy of the entry in the day book—I knew him again; I had known him a long time—I always knew him by the name of Crick.
Prisoner. Q. Have I not dealt at the house thirteen or fourteen years? A. Yes, you have had goods for various people at various times and have"
paid a great deal of money; I should not otherwise have parted with the goods—MR. Pike has been a customer, but he never had any account—it was my knowledge of you which induced me to let you have the goods.
JURY. Q. Did you trust the prisoner personally? A. No—I had not done so before; he brought orders from different farmers in the neighbourhood for whom he worked, who, when they wanted this sort of material sent him for it, and up to this time they have always been correct.
RICHARD FRANKLIN PIKE . I am a farmer of Enfield—this order is not my writing or written by my authority—I never saw it till the prosecutor showed it to me—I know the prisoner—I gave him over 2l. to get some canvas to do some work for me, and after about a week he brought the work and did it in my place, and I paid him 30s. or 35s. over the 2l. which I had advanced to him—I did not say anything about where he was to get the canvas—I know Morrison's—I have been in the habit of buying rope there, but not canvas—the prisoner is a sail-maker—I believe this was for a rick cloth—he had done the same for me two previous years.
THOMAS EVANS (Policeman, G 22). I took the prisoner at Edmonton on 24th January, close to his own house—I told him the charge; he said, "It is no use telling me about that; I had the money and spent it in drink; I am very sorry for it."
Prisoner's Defence. I met with a shipmate and went and had some drink, I had 2l. 14s., and in the morning I found I only had a florin and a six-pence—one of the persons said, "Who are you working for?"—I said, "MR. Pike." He gave me this paper; I knew no more about it till Mr. Brooks wrote to me about the canvas, and my wife went and offered Mr. Morrison 10s. a-week.
COURT to JOHN BROOKS. Q. After you communicated with Mr. Pike, and found he had not Sent the order, did you write to the prisoner? A. There was a letter written to the prisoner—I do not think he sent any answer, but his wife went and saw Mr. Morrison.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LEWIS the Defence.
JOHN HENRY SCHRARDER . I am a stationer, of 45, St Mary Axe—the prisoner was in my employment as assistant collector—when he collected accounts it was his duty to hand the money over—MR. Sowerbutts, of Spitalfields, owed me 2l. 18s. 9d. and on 30th December, I told the prisoner he was to go for it, but I found he had received it previously—I afterwards asked him about it, and he said that he had not received it—he did not pay me 1l. 11s. 11d. on 4th December, nor did he pay the balance on 20th and 30th December.
Cross-examined. Q. Had he been in your service about two years? A. Yes; I have reason to know now that in October last he became security for a man, and that he gave a bill of sale on his furniture—he stated before the Lord Mayor that the bill of sale had to be given for the security, and that he was in difficulties in consequence—I asked the Lord Mayor to deal summarilly with the case, but he would not—I did not owe the prisoner 2l. when he left—I gave him 2l. per week, which I should have owed him on Saturday night—I did not say, "You may think yourself very fortunate that I have let you off so easily"—I did not discharge him; I allowed him
to go—he told me that he had not paid in Mr. Sowerbutt's money which he had received on 30th December, and that he had had items from him before—he did not tell me that I might retain his salary, 2l. but I did so—he was taken at his own house a fortnight afterwards, after I found out several more items, the whole amount being about 15l.—he did not give me a list when he left—when I kept back his wages, he gave me a list of two names—he did not afterwards, through his attorney, send me a list of names, and offer to pay me ten shillings—I have no managing clerk—I have not been offered the whole amount, 15l.—neither the prisoner nor his friends have offered me 20l.—he is married, and has a child.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Did you ever make him any offer to compromise the matter? A. Never.
JAMES SOWERBUTTS . I live at 20, Stewart-street, Spitalfields—on 4th December, I owed Mr. Schrarder a bill of 1l. 11s. 11d. which the prisoner presented to me—I paid him, and he receipted it in my presence—on 20th December, he brought some goods—I paid him 18s. 4d. and he receipted the bill in my presence on 30th December—on 1st January, I paid him 8s. 6d. and he put "Paid" to the bill.
GUILTY .—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Confined Six Months .
CHARLES TURNPENNY . I am a French-polisher, and live with Mary Ann Harris, at 22, Bateman's-row, Shoreditch, as man and wife—I have known the prisoner six months, and have often seen him at that house—on 14th January, he came into the kitchen at half-past 12 at night, by himself—that is our living-room—I told him to go out—he would not, and I said that if he did not I would turn him out—he said, "you cannot turn me out"—I took hold of the two collars of his coat, and pulled him as far as the door—we had a scuffle, and he said, "You had better come out and have a fight"—I went out, thinking he would follow, but instead of that, he went into the first house round the corner—I followed him, and said, "Are you coming out," but he would not—I did not go in—Mary Ann Harris come out from the house that he went into, and said, "You had better go"—I went into my own house, and about a quarter of an hour afterwards the prisoner came back and said "Now I will fight you"—he began sparring at me, and while we were fighting, I found something going into my head, and felt stupefied—Mary Ann Harris said, "Do not fight any more; he is stabbing you"—that was said loud enough for him to hear—I found my head and hand bleeding—he went away, and was afterwards given in charge—I went to the hospital—the prisoner did not ask for any young woman—he looked as if he had been drinking.
MART ANN HARRIS . I live at this brothel with Turnpenny—I was in the room when the prisoner came on the 14th—I saw the men struggling and the prisoner went out—in about a quarter of an hour he came again, and said, "Come on, Charley; I am ready for you"—they began fighting, and all at once, I saw that the prisoner was fighting with a knife in his hand—he struck Turnpenny on the head first—he struck him several times—I laid hold of Turnpenny, and said, "Do not fight any more; he has a knife"—I threw myself on the floor, picked up the knife, and gave it to the constable—the prisoner ran away while I was talking to the constable at the door—I took Turnpenny to the hospital in a cab.
Prisoner. Q. What was the reason I ran into the house round the corner, were you running after me with the tongs? A. No, I was too frightened—I did not strike you on the head with them, or strike a young woman across the wrist, nor with a poker or shovel—the house round the corner is a brothel too.
BENJAMAN WHITMORE (Policeman, G 238). I saw people round the door of the house, and heard Turnpenny say to the prisoner, "Will you go out, or I shall turn you out"—he took him by the collar—they had a struggle, but Turnpenny got him out—I said to the prisoner, "You had better go away"—he made no answer, but returned into the passage of the same house, and said, "Charley, I will bring you down"—Turnpenny said, "If you want to fight me, you had better come round the corner"—they both came out, and went round the corner—the prisoner went into the first house—Turn-penny waited outside about five minutes, and then returned with the last witness to his own house—she had nothing in her hand—about ten minutes afterwards, the prisoner and four or five men came round the corner to Turnpenny's house again, and directly afterwards I heard struggling inside—Mary Ann Harris came out with a knife, and said, "Bobby Howes is using a knife"—I went into the passage, but was prevented from getting into the room by five or six of the prisoners companions, who came out with a rush, the prisoner and all—I then went in, and found Turnpenny bleeding very much from his head and wrist—I went to take the prisoner, but was prevented by his companions, who got hold of my coat, and he escaped to his own house, where I took him—I do not know what is the matter with his arm, (The prisoner's arm was in a sling)—it was all right when I took him, for he made use of it half an hour afterwards—I told him the charge was stabbing Turnpenny—he said, "All right; I will go with you"—he made a sudden jerk to get away—he had been drinking, but not a great deal
GEORGE HUNT ORTON . I am house-surgeon of St Bartholomew's—I examined the prosecutor there on the morning of 14th January, and found two large scalp wounds, one near the occiput, four inches long, and the other two and a half inches long, also an incised wound on his left wrist—they might be inflicted with such an instrument as this knife (produced)—they were not very deep, and I did not consider them dangerous—the knife is not very sharp, so I suppose they were inflicted with violence—his head is well, but his wrist is not.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. He stated that his arm was dislocated in the struggle.— Confined Four Months .
195. HENRY LESSER (17) , to forging and uttering a cheque for 25l.5s. 6d. with intent to defraud.— Recommended to mercy. He received a good character.— Confined Six Months . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
198. HENRY JONES (33) , to embezzling 6l.7s. 3d, 6l.3s.5d., and 7l. 9s. 5d.; also, 5l. 4s. 11d, and 2l. 3s. 6d.; also, 1l. 15s. 7d., 2l. 16s. 4d, and 6l. 6s., the moneys of Walter Spencer Chapman, his master.— Confined Eighteen Months . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, January 29th, 1866.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BROWN . I keep a public-house at Old Ford—on 23d December, the prisoners came there—they came again on the 30th, about 6 or half-past—one of them asked for a half-quartern of rum, which I served—a shilling was put on the counter—I tried it, and found it was bad—I told Butcher so—Barnett said she knew nothing about it, and that she had got a good one, which she handed me—I gave her in custody.
EDWARD STEWART (Policeman, K 319). I was called to the prosecutor's house on the 30th of December—the prisoners were there—I charged them with uttering a counterfeit shilling—the prosecutor gave me the bad shilling (produced)—Barnett had something in her hand—I asked her what it was—she said, "It is money I was going to market with"—I took her to the station—I there examined the money. she had in her hand, which was wrapped in paper, and found a bad shilling amongst it—I showed it to her—she said, "Oh my God, my nephew could never have given me bad money"—they were then locked up—there was 5s. 6d. good money in the paper.
Barnett. I did not know I had any bad money in my posession; all the other money was good. BARNETT— NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution
EMMA ROSE . I am barmaid at the Two Chairmen public-house, Warwick-street, St. Martin's—on Saturday, 13th January, about 9.15, the prisoner came in for a glass of ale, which came to 2d—he gave me a half-crown, which I put in the tester and found bad—I told him so—he denied it, and asked me to give it back again—I told him I would not—I put it in the fire, and it melted quickly—I asked him to pay for his beer, but he would not do so—he went away and came back again in half an hour, and asked for a pennyworth of rum—I told him we did not sell pennyworths—he then asked for a three halfpennyworth, which I gave him—he gave me another bad half-crown, which I gave to my master.
COURT. Q. Have you any doubt he is the person who came in the first time? A. No, I am sure he is the man—he rolled about and pretended to be tipsy.
WILLIAM BLATCHER (Policeman, A 21). I took the prisoner at Mr. Strip's on 13th January—he pretended to be drunk, but I do not think he was—I took him to the station, searched him, and found a good half-crown and a penny on him—MR. Strip gave me this bad half-crown (produced).
Prisoner's Defence. I never went into the house before in my life. I must have wanted locking up very bad indeed to have gone there a second time.
GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
HANNAH MARCHMONT . I live with my father, a grocer, of Manchesterterrace, Poplar—I assist in the shop—on the evening of 18th December, the prisoner came in and asked for half an ounce of tobacco, which came to 1½d.—he gave me a shilling—I sounded it, bent it, and told the prisoner it was bad—he said he had just received it over the way—I gave it him back, and he went away—he did not take the tobacco—I am sure he is the man
HENRY SMALLMAN . I manage the Cubitt's Arms, Manchester-road, Poplar, for my nephew—on 8th January, the prisoner came, between 6 and 7 o'clock, for twopenny worth of rum—he tendered a half-crown—I tested it, and broke it—it broke easily—he saw me break it, and said, "I will give you another"—I said, "Very well"—he said, "Give me the remains of that"—I said, "No; you can take one part, and I will keep the other"—I gave him a small piece of it—I told him if he wanted the other pieces he must fetch a constable—he gave me a good half-crown—I gave him change, and he went away—I saw him afterwards loitering about, and sent my young man to caution my neighbour opposite—he came into my house again, and asked for twopenny worth of rum—I sent for a constable—he paid for the rum with a good half-crown—I gave him into custody.
Prisoner Q. How long was it after I was in your house the first time that I came in the second time? A. About an hour.
MR. CRAUFURD. Q. Was he smoking either of the times he came? A. Not to my knowledge.
JOHN BURGESS (Policeman, K 256). I took the prisoner on 8th January, in the Manchester-road, at a little after 7—he was not smoking—I took him to the station—on the way there, be threw something away—I asked him what it was—he said, "Never you mind"—after I had put him in the station, I went back to the place, and found this bad half-crown (produced)—I received part of a half-crown, which I also produce—the prisoner was searched at the station, and on him was found 11s. 6d. in silver and 4d. in coppers, good money.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:—"I am quite innocent of having any bad money; I changed half a sovereign at a tavern, and when I went into Mr. Smallman's I had four half-crowns; he took one of them, which was bad. I went to look for a policeman, but could not find one; I then returned to Mr. Smallman's house and had another twopenny worth of rum, and stayed there about twenty minutes or half an hour, and went to a private house; one of the lodgers came to me and told me that a policeman was looking for me; I said, "I will go and see. "I went out, but the police man was gone; I had two glasses of rum in the Manchester Arms; when I came out the policeman was there, and told me the charge. I went with him without force; as I was going along, I threw away a piece of a pick wick I was smoking; that was all. GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCES EDWARDS . I am the wife of William Edwards, who keeps the Black Lion public-house—on Thursday afternoon, 18th January, the prisoners came in—Secret called for half a quartern of peppermint—I said that we had none in the bar—he said that spruce would do as well—I served him
with half a quartern of spruce, which came to 2½d. and Hopkins put down a half-sovereign in payment, for which I gave in change two florins, five shillings, one sixpence, and 3½d. in coppers—I am sure there was not a half-crown in the change—the change was taken from a shelf in the bar-parlour—Hopkins was sweeping the change off the counter and something dropped, which he stooped to pick up, and he then asked me for change for a half-crown—I told him it was bad, and took it to Mr. Edwards.
Hopkins. Q. Did you not give me 2s. 6d. out of the till: for the half-crown? A. No, I never gave you the change—I never give change first and take the money up afterwards.
HENRY EDWARDS . I am the landlord of the Black Lion—I swept the change off the counter—my wife gave me the half-crown—I sent for a constable and gave the prisoners in charge with the half-crown, and the whole of the change.
HENRY MONK . I am a warehouseman—I was in this public-house, and heard Hopkins call for half a quartern of peppermint—he had some spruce—he laid down a half-sovereign, and I saw the landlady give him change—something fell and Hopkins picked it up—he laid half a crown on the counter and said, "Give me 2s. 6d. for this"—the landlady said that it was bad—she showed it to her husband, who sent for a constable, and gave them in charge—Secret said, "It is a d—d fine thing for a man to come here and treat another"—on the way to the station Hopkins dropped something, which was picked up by Secret.
Secret. Q. Did I speak to you at all then? A. Yes, you asked me to square it with the landlord.
STEPHEN LOCKE (Policeman, E 143). I took the prisoners, and received some money from Mr. Edwards—I produce a half-crown—I told them the charge, but they did not say anything—at the station they were searched, and on Hopkins was found a half-sovereign and a sixpence in a purse; on Secret was found is. 6d. in silver, and 1s. 6d. in coppers—on the way to the station Hopkins dropped a half-sovereign, which Secret picked up—they both gave me the same address.
Secret's Defence. I know nothing of this man (Hopkins), and never saw him in my life. GUILTY — Confined Twelve Months each .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
ELIZABETH TREHEARN . I am barmaid at the Black Swan public-house, St Paul's Churchyard—on the afternoon of 15th January a man came for a, glass of stout—he gave me a shilling, which I tried and found bad—he left the house and I sent our potman, Bull, to watch him—I had not seen the man before.
ROBERT BULL . I am cellarman at the Black Swan—in consequence of something said to me by the last witness, I followed a man out of the house, about one o'clock in the afternoon—he went first into a urinal by the side of the house where I picked up a piece of paper which he threw away—I then followed him round St. Paul's Churchyard to the end of Dean's-court where he found the prisoner—they walked together to Carter-lane—I called an officer's attention to them—I saw the man pass something to the prisoner—they separated, and I followed the prisoner to Godliman-street—I
was close by her side and never lost sight of her—I saw her pass something through her dress and then heard something fall—she was standing over a grating at the corner of Carter-lane, in Godliman-street—I looked down the area and saw some packets—I drew the policeman's attention to it.
Cross-examined. Q. Was that which was dropped down the area wrapped in paper? A. Yes.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Was it one or more packages? A. Five or six packages.
JESSE SAWYER . I am clerk to Messrs. Stigerwell and Co., No. 1, Godliman-street; it is the corner of Carter-lane—on 15th January I was down in the packing-room and heard something fall down the area which sounded like money—I opened the window and picked up five small packages and three large ones—they were separated—I gave them to the constable.
JAMES BADMAN (City-policeman, 336). I was on duty in St. Paul's Churchyard on 15th January—I saw a little rumpus at the top of Godliman-street and ran up there, where I saw Bull with the prisoner and another constable—I went into No. 1, Godliman-street and I saw Sawyer at the area—he gave me eight packages; I looked in the area and saw another—they contained six florins and three shillings—they were in nine distinct packets—at the station she was asked whether she had been on the grating at 1, Godliman-street—she said, "No"—I told her I had seen her there and that I had found some packages of bad coin in the area—I had seen her on the grating previously to my coming to the end of Godliman-street.
Cross-examined. Q. What became of the man? A. I did not see him at all.
JOHN VALE (City-policeman, 341). My attention was drawn to the man and woman by Bull—they were standing in Carter-lane—I do not know what became of the man—I assisted in taking the woman to the station.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. THOMPSON conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY ELFICK DAWSON . I live at 1, John-street, Homerton—the prisoner was a fellow-workman with me at Mr. Waite's, Camomile-street—on 5th January, shortly after two o'clock, we had a small quarrel—it was the first we ever had in our lives—there was some dispute about some work that had been done—I told him I thought he had wound some shutters up the wrong way—he said that I was a liar—I told him that if he repeated that I would give him a pat on the head—he did repeat it and I struck him—he then took up a hammer and threw it at me—it struck me and I fell—directly afterwards he appeared very sorry and tried to pick me up, but I would not let him—the hammer was on my anvil—it weighs about 4lbs.—I was taken to the hospital—I freely forgive him—it was done in the height of passion—we never quarrelled before—I do not believe he intended to hurt me. NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILLIAMS defended the Prisoner.
WILLIAM GREEN (City-policeman, 230). I was in Cheapside on the evening of 10th January, about a quarter-past six—I saw the prisoner go to Mr. Keys, 15, Cheapside, a hosiers—he had a large sack upon his arm which he"
placed over a bundle of scarfs which hung upon a nail in the doorway—the nail gave way and the prisoner tried to take the scarfs, but they were fastened by a chain—finding he could not get them from the chain he ran away—I followed him and told him I was an officer and should take him into custody for attempting to steal a bundle of scarfs—he made no reply—I took him to the station—nothing was found upon him.
RICHARD WHITE . I am in the employment of Thomas Keys, 12, Cheap-side—on 10th January I was in the shop and heard the rattling of a chain against the glass—I went out and saw the prisoner running away—I went after him and found him in the officer's hands—we went back to the shop and found the scarfs still attached to the chain, but the nail had been pulled out—he had taken them the length of the chain, but could not get any further—they were my master's property.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the nail above the chain? A. The nail is fastened into the side of the window, and the scarfs were hung to the nail by an inner chain which is put round them for safety—I was two or three yards from the window.
JURY. What distance was the nail from the ground? A. Three or four feet. GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months .
PLEADED GUILTY .**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
EDWARD BIRD . I reside at 35, Thistle-grove, Brompton, Middlesex—on 5th January I was passing along Cheapside, when my attention was called by a gentleman behind to my handkerchief being stolen, and that the two men had run down the side street—I followed them—they were stopped by an officer, taken to the station and charged—they denied it—they were searched and the handkerchief was found upon one of them.
JOHN WALL WEYMAN (City-policeman, 703). On 5th January I was in Milk-street and saw the prisoners coming down one side of the street—a gentleman was running after them—I took hold of both of them and asked the gentleman what they were charged with—he said with stealing a handkerchief from a gentleman's pocket in Cheapside—they made no reply—the prosecutor then came up—I took them to the station and the handkerchief was found upon Reynolds.
Carter's Defence. I was in Milk-street, Cheapside; Reynolds came up to me, and asked if I could direct him to Spitalfields; I was walking with him a step or two, and was about to direct him, when a gentleman came and gave him into custody; I don't know anything of Reynolds, and he will tell you so.
CHARLES REYNOLDS (The prisoner). I was walking along Cheapside, and seeing part of a gentleman's handkerchief hanging out of his pocket, I took it as I was very hungry; I went down Milk-street, and asked this young chap which was the nearest way to Spitalfields, and before he had time to tell me, we were both taken in custody; I mean to swear on my oath that he was not present when I took the handkerchief; I had seen him before some months back this was a casual meeting; I did not meet him until three or four minutes after I had taken the handkerchief; I met Carter in one of the turnings out of Cheapside; I believe it was Milk-street.
COURT to EDWARD BIRD. Q. Do you know who it was that told you about your handkerchief? A. No; I had not missed it—the gentleman who told me said there were two, and if I ran quickly after them, I should
catch them—he looked down a street and said, "I see them; follow me; "which I did—the whole of this did not occupy half a minute.
CARTER.—** GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted of felony at this Court, in October, 1857, to which he PLEADED GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
ALEXANDER WHYTE CATTO . I am the captain of the ship Beautiful Star, now lying in the London Docks—on Thursday night I was in the Minories on my way home—the prisoner accosted me—I told her to go away, I would have nothing to do with her—I went a little further on, and she accosted me again—she got hold of me by the coat, and dragged me round—I left her, and went into a public-house across and had a glass of beer—while I was there, another woman came in and asked me for something to drink—I did not wish to have anything to do with her, but when I saw I could not get clear of her, I said, "Call for what you want, and 1 will pay for it"—I put my hand in my pocket, and then found I had been robbed of my money—I complained to the police immediately—the next morning a policeman brought me some Bank of England notes—I told him the numbers of the notes I had lost, and he said that they corresponded with those he had got—they were not shown to me.
Cross-examined. Q. How long had you left the Beautiful Star when you met the prisoner? A. I left at a little before 6, and the prisoner accosted me about 10 o'clock—I had been transacting private business between 6 and 10—I had only had a glass of beer during that time—I was perfectly sober—my watch was in my waistcoat pocket—I had some gold and silver in my trousers pocket, and the notes were in my coat pocket, in a cash-book—I had not been in any place of refreshment with the prisoner—I could not exactly say how long she was speaking to me in the street—she was talking to me all the way up the Minories—it was not more than ten minutes—I did not tell her what my name was—I had an over-coat on.
COURT. Q. Was your over-coat buttoned? A. No; it was loose—the notes were in my pocket-book—they showed above the book about an inch—the book was taken with the notes—my under-coat was unbuttoned also.
RICHARD STATHAM (City-policeman, 554). On Thursday night the prosecutor came to me about ten minutes past 10—from information he gave me, I took the prisoner in the Minories, about half-past 12—I told her I should charge her with stealing a gold watch and chain and money, amounting to nearly 100l. from a ship's captain—she refused to go to the station—I got the assistance of a metropolitan constable, and took her there—she put her hand to her breast—my brother constable took hold of that hand, and I the other—she threw herself on the ground and we had a struggle, and then. I took these six 10l. notes (produced) from her—we took her to the station in a cab—at the station she said the captain gave her the things—she gave a false address—the prosecutor identified the notes as his property—when I first saw him he was not intoxicated, but he was very much excited.
Cross-examined. Q. When you took the prisoner, was she drunk? A. Yes.
JOSEPH CONLAND (Policeman, H 157). On Thursday night about half-past 12, Statham called me to his assistance—I took hold of the prisoner on one side—she threw herself on the ground and put her hands to her breast
—I asked the other officer to take hold of her hand, which he did—I took hold of her other hand which was put up to her mouth, and took away six 10l. Bank of England notes—she gave me a severe bite on the arm at the time I was taking them from her—I did not see the prosecutor.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:—"The prosecutor gave me the notes out of a book; he was drunk."
GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, January 30th, 1865.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
211. HENRY NAPIER (22), PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling the sums of 3l. 15s., 10l., and 7l. 17s. 6d., of William John Bellville and another, his masters, who strongly recommended him to mercy. MR. METCALFE, for the prisoner, stated that his friends would employ him and provide for him permanently.— Judgment Respited .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. SLEIGH the Defence.
TITTUS SCHILDREKIR . I am a watchmaker, of 64, City-road, just across the road at Tabernacle-row—Union-street is a little further down Tabernacle-row—Union-court is a turning out of Tabernacle-row—to get from my shop to Union-court you cross the road, and it is the first turning to the left—it is 120 or 130 yards from my ship to Union-court, which is not very wide—there is a dead wall on one side and eight houses on the other—there is no passage through—there is a lamp just when you turn up the court, and another near Tabernacle-row as you go in—on 18th December, at a quarter to 7, or a little after, I went into my shop, and saw the prisoner at the counter looking at some watches—MR. Riesle was serving him, and Mr. Kreutz stood more at the back of the shop, not behind the counter—I went round the counter, looked in the prisoner's face, and then told my friend, Mr. Kreutz, to come in-doors with me—we went into a back room—I remained there about a minute, when he said something which attracted my attention—I looked through the window between the back door and the shop, and walked out again, and came in front of the prisoner, who had a silver watch in his hand—before I spoke to him, he closed his hand and went to the door—I went round the counter and followed him, crying "Stop thief"—there was a good light in the shop, three, gas lights—they burn powerfully to enable me to examine things—he pulled the door open, and I ran after him across the road, down Tabernacle-row, and I saw him go into Union-place, quite by himself—I am sure that was the same person who
went out of my shop—I was twelve or fifteen yards from aim, I cannot say exactly—there was plenty of light to enable me to see—I did not run after him directly, because the top of the court is rather dark, I stopped and told my young man, who was behind me, to stop at the bottom to watch, and I would see if I could find him—the door of No. 8, the last house, was open, and a boy, seventeen or eighteen years old, stood at the door with a candle—I asked him if somebody had gone in there—he said "Yes," and I went right through the passage to the water-closet, which is on the ground-floor, on a level with the yard, and found the prisoner sitting on the water-closet, with one hand under him—I caught hold of him and said, "That is him."—he said, "I am not the man who took the watch"—he said this before I said anything about the watch—a neighbour of mine followed me, but I went first into the closet—I got the prisoner up from his sitting position, and his clothes was not disarranged, but his right hand, which was under him, was covered with soil, and there was a little dirt on it as well—he said, "You can search me"—I said, "No, I will wait for a constable"—he gave no reason for being there.
Cross-examined. Q. Does this plan (produced) correctly describe the locality? A. Yes—I had only, been down Union-place once before—one side is small houses and the other alms-houses, but there is a dead wall—the alms-houses front partly on some waste ground—the entrance to them is in Tabernacle-row, close to Union-place—there is a little passage from Union-place at the side of the alms-houses—the man who took the watch had got across the road when I started from the door—we kept about the same distance apart—I lost sight of him at the corner of Union-place—I waited there till Mr. Riesle came up to me—I am quite sure the prisoner is the man—when I found him in the water-closet the first words I said were, "That is him," and I caught hold of him—he got up and said, "I am not the man; I have not got the watch"—that was before I said anything to him about the watch—that is quite right—I did not first accuse him, and say, "That is the man who took my watch"—I said, "That is him"—I did not accuse him of this theft and mention the watch before he said that—I did not accuse him of stealing the watch, and he did not then say that he had not been in the shop—I am quite sure of that—I said, "That is him, " and he then said, "I am not the man who has got your watch, "without my saying anything to him about it.
Q. Do you mean that before you said one word about a watch, he first said to you, "I am not the man who has got the watch?" A. Of course; I did not hear anything else—I cannot recollect saying, "That is he who took my watch"—I might have said so—I did not say, "That is he who has taken my watch"—I said nothing—I said, "That is the man," and caught hold of him.
Q. That is the man that, "what? A. "Who has tooken my watch. "COURT. Q. Did you say so? A. Yes—he said, "I am not the man; I have not got the watch."
MB. SLEIGH . Q. Did you net say further, "Who took the watch from my shop?" A. No, not to him—I did not say anything to him you know; I only said he took my watch—I waited until a policeman came, and saw him remove the seat of the closet after the prisoner was taken to the station—we took up everything except the pipe—we removed the pan, and made as thorough a search as could be made—there was a mob running as soon as we got to the top of Union-court—I cried, "Stop thief," in Tabernacle row, as we went along—a lad told me that there was a man in the
water-closet—by the time my friend came, there was a great crowd collected, but we only stopped a minute at the bottom—nobody told me that a person had ran down the court—I saw it myself—a boy stood at the door with a light and I asked him if anybody had gone into the water-closet—he said, Yes, a second or half a second before I came up.
MR. METCALFE. Q. And you went straight in, and found this man there? A. Yes—the pipe which runs from the pan, was not taken up and examined.
JURY. Q. There is an arm at the bottom of the pan, was that examined? A. Yes, but the pipe was not taken up—the arm was not cleared out, but they put their hands in it.
COURT. Q. Did the prisoner say anything about the shop? A. No.
JOSEPH RIESLE . I am shopman to Mr. Schildekir—I was in the shop when the prisoner came in, at about half-past 6—MR. Schildekir was then out—the prisoner asked for a second-hand watch—I showed him about a dozen in a case, and then two more, which I took from the side of the wall—he continued to look at them, till Mr. Schildekir came in, who went through into the other room, and came back again into the shop—the prisoner then had a watch in his hand—I was going to put a gold chain in the window, when he ran out with the watch—I am sure he is the man—he was in the shop not quite half an hour—I was talking to him all the time, and showing him some chains as well—we were face to face—Mr. Kreutz had an opportunity of seeing him—he stayed by his side about ten minutes—Mr. Schildekir went after him, and I went and saw the prisoner cross the road—he went down Tabernacle-row into Union-place—I distinctly saw him turn round, because there is a lamp at the corner—I remained at the entrance of Union-place to watch if he came out—I saw him brought out of the court in custody—I did not see his hands then, but I saw them at the station—I had noticed his dress.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure he is the man? A. Yes—I lost sight of him during the chase—it was five or seven minutes before he was brought out of the closet—I heard them say that they had got the man, and I looked at him—I had no doubt at all—I did not lose sight of him before he turned down Union-court.
MR. METCALFE. Q. HOW long elapsed from the time you got to the corner of Union-court till he was brought out? A. Seven or eight minutes.
JOSEPH KREUTZ . I am a watch-maker, of 11, City-road—I went to Mr. Schildeker's shop on this evening and found the prisoner there—he had some watches in front of him and was looking at them—MR. Riesle was serving him—I got there at half-past six or a quarter to seven—I stood by the prisoner's side about ten minutes, but did nothing until Mr. Schildeker came in—I then went with him into the private room—I called his attention to the prisoner and he returned to the shop while I stopped in the private room—I am sure the prisoner is the man—I saw him ten minutes after-wards when the constable brought him across the road and identified him directly.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he being led through the street by the police-man when you saw him? A. Yes, I am positively sure he is the man—I thought he was a young man whom I knew, therefore I looked at him sharp—I actually thought he was a friend of mine and was going to speak to him till I saw his face.
in the prosecutor's hands, in the yard of 8, Union-place, Tabernacle-row—his coat was buttoned close up—I searched him—I saw water-closet soil on his right hand—none of his clothes were undone—he had not the same coat on as he has now—this is a new one—he said, "I am not the man, I have got no watch"—I searched him and found a tobacco-pipe and pouch but no money—I afterwards examined the water-closet—a man took the seat off and raised the pan—we looked into the trap as far as we could see and reached into the pipe—the pipe was not taken up—it is what plumber's call a trap under the pan—it is in the shape of the letter S—we found nothing there—they are small six-roomed houses in Union-place—there is no thoroughfare through Union-court—there is a low wall and a timber-yard at the back.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the closet what they call a trap closet? A. Yes; I put my hand right down into the trap—it is something similar to this plan (produced)—there is a wall right round Union-place—there is no escape from it.
WILLIAM HAYNES (Police-sergeant). I was acting-inspector at the station when the prisoner was brought in at half-past seven—I entered the time correctly in the charge-sheet which I have here—it was half an hour before he was put into the cell, as we required another witness—he made no request to use the closet.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he examined the next day before the Magistrate and admitted to bail? A. Yes.
Witnesses for the Defence.
HARRIET RINK . I am the wife of Henry Rink, of 7, Cotton-street, Mile End—the prisoner is my son—he was employed in the India House at the time he was taken—I heard of his being taken the same night—he came home from his business at twenty minutes to five—he then had something the matter with his bowels—he had been subject to slight cholera ever since October, and he had two fits through it, one in the water-closet and one in bed, and I had to send for a doctor—he entered the street door on this evening and went direct to the water-closet, without taking his hat off—he was in the yard half an hour, and I went out to see after him as I was afraid he had had another fit—he left home again to go to Mr. Cohen's, about a quarter-past six or nearly twenty minutes past; the hand of the clock had passed the quarter—he had ornamented a stick for the Rector's son, which he took with him and did not return again—MR. Cohen resides ten minutes' walk from me—I am a member of his congregation and so is the prisoner, who also occasionally takes a class in the Sunday school and he is in a bible class—he was going out later that evening to meet a friend—he is courting a young lady—in consequence of hearing about a watch robbery I got an order to go to the Cold Bath Fields Prison last week, after my son was taken—some persons were put together there and marshalled round the yard—I picked out one young man who resembled my son, and although he had had his hair cut short and was in the prison clothes, I identified him by the description as the man who had done this robbery; he was there for a watch robbery.
Cross-examined. Q. How far is your house from Mr. Cohen's? A. About a mile; you go beyond Whitechapel to go to my place—I live beyond the London Hospital.
LOUISA RINK . I am the prisoner's sister—on the night he was taken in custody I remember his going out with a stick to Mr. Cohen's between a quarter and twenty minutes past six—I should not have known the time
but my mother called attention to it as she said he was going too early, and that Mr. Cohen would not have done his tea—we have a clock in the room—it keeps good time—we keep it regulated by the London Hospital.
ELIZA SANDFORD . I am in the service of the Rev. Mr. Cohen, Rector of Whitechapel—I know the prisoner quite well as coming there—I remember his coming on 18th December, between half-past six and twenty minutes to seven—he brought a walking-stick for Mr. Cohen's son—he remained while I took the present in to Mr. Cohen, and waited for an answer—I brought him the answer and he went away—MR. Cohen was at tea then—he generally takes tea about five, but being Christmas time Mrs. Cohen was at the schools about some children's clothing, and did not come home till ten minutes past six—they had most finished tea when the prisoner came—I know the time accurately, because we had not had tea in the kitchen, and I said to the cook, "It is rather late"—I looked at the clock and said, "It is half-past six."
REV. JAMES COHEN . I am Rector of Whitechapel—I was once clergyman to Holloway goal—on this evening, as near as possible to half-past six, my servant brought me a stick—I do not say that from guess, but circumstances occurred in the house which enable me to fix the time with some precision—it is simply because we were delayed at tea—I have known the prisoner five years, ever since I have been Rector of Whitechapel—he belongs to my congregation and to a class which I used to conduct—I know him and his parents well—he has borne the character of a well-conducted, honest, moral lad during the whole of that period—I should think it is a full mile from my house to the City-road.
COURT. Q. Which way should you go? A. Up Osborne-street, past Spitalfields church to Shoreditch station, and turn up Castle-street, which is nearly opposite the station—the rectory is close to the church.
WILLIAM CHARLES DODD . I live at 8, Union-court, Tabernacle-row—I am a house-decorator and I follow the shoe line when I have nothing to do—on the night the prisoner was taken I was talking to my landlady, in my shirt sleeves, in her room—the street door was open and the back door—I was all in the dark—the prisoner came to me and said, "Would you let me go through, I am taken rather short," pointing with his hands to his stomach—I let him through—I went into the landlady's room again, leaving the street door open, and a second afterwards a gentleman came and asked me if I had let a young man through—I said, "Yes, to the water-closet," and he went through—the prisoner had not passed more than a second, not a moment, I had hardly time to get into the kitchen again—I had shown the prisoner to the yard door and went towards the kitchen again, and before I got there I heard the knock—I did not hear any calling out at the time I let him in—two or three gentlemen were standing at the door—the wall where the closet is, is, I should think, twelve feet high on one side, but on the side leading to the other yard it is only five or six feet—the alms-houses extend to the very end of Union-place—the five feet wall is the one that separates the yard from the next—our house is the last in the row—if a person got over the twelve feet wall he would get into the timber-yard—the wall immediately at the back is the same height, twelve feet—I did not let somebody else go through just before the prisoner.
COURT. Q. Could any person get over the twelve feet wall without assistance? A. No—there is no entrance to the front of the Almshouses from Tabernacle-row—from the entrance to Union-court to the front of the Alms-houses is only the depth of the houses, which are two rooms deep, fifteen, sixteen, or twenty feet—our house is on the City-road side.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. How does Union-court terminate? A. With a wall twelve feet high—there is a timber-yard abutting on the end of Union-row.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did you offer the prisoner a light when he came in? A. Yes—he said, "No, thank you"—he did not seem to press in the least—he knocked at the door and said, "Will you let me go through?"—I said before, that he came in as if he was really taken short, as if he was pressed to go to the water-closet.
COURT. Q. Suppose a person, instead of turning up the entrance of Union-court, had gone up to the entrance of the Alms-houses, where would he have got to? A. To Tabernacle-walk—he could then have escaped or gone anywhere—there are some railings at the end, but he could get over them—there is not a proper thoroughfare—the railings at the Tabernacle are six feet at the highest part, and four feet at the lowest.
The prisoner received a good character.— NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, January 30th, 1866.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
JOHN EDWARD SHARPE . I am a watch manufacturer, living in Bunhillrow—Samuel Cracker presented this order to me on 22d December—(Read: "52, Cornhill, December 22d, 1865. Gentlemen, please send by bearer an assortment of best gold ¾ plate watches in hunting cases on approbation, and oblige yours respectfully, McCabe and Co.")—Messrs. McCabe are customers of mine occasionally—on the faith of the genuineness of that ticket, I gave him the five gold hunting watches (produced), worth about 100l. and an approbation ticket—they are mine.
Samuel Cracker. Q. Was that order presented by me to you? A. It was handed to me by my assistant, and I looked them out in your presence—you were sitting on a stool—I think you had the same coat on as you have now—I do not identify the coat—I said you had a light coat on—I do not think I said I had seen you before.
Thomas Cracker. Q. Are you sure I did not present the order? A. I am.
JAMES RABBITTS . I am a porter in the employ of Messrs. McCabe, of Cornhill—I know both the prisoners—Thomas was a porter in Mr. McCabe's employment under me—I am well acquainted with his writing—this order is in his writing.
Samuel Cracker. Q. Do yon know me? A. Yes, from coming backwards and forwards to your brother—I know that this order is not in your writing—it is your brother's writing.
Thomas Cracker. Q. How came you to be familiar with my writing? A. You lived with me and I saw you write nearly every day and night as well, when you stayed in—you wrote frequently for your own amusement—I remember selling you two Geneva watches—I got them from a house in Clerkenwell, and paid for them—you paid me by instalments—I got several watches for you to select from, at your solicitation—I did not give a receipt for them in the name of McCabe; I gave my own name.
on 23d December, in, I think, the name of Thomas Crokering, for 12l.—I have unfortunately mislaid the duplicate—about two hours afterwards, Samuel Cracker came in and offered a diamond ring for sale—I said, "Are you the man that pledged a gold watch here this morning"—he said, "No, it was not me, it must have been my twin brother—I then called in the police—I asked him where his brother was—he said he did not know, but he thought he had gone to Folkestone.
Samuel Cracker. Q. Did not you swear at the police-court that I was the party that had pledged the gold watch for 12l. A. I said I thought you were the same person, but when I saw your brother then I knew it was him—I thought it was you from the similarity of your appearance in general—I did tell the police that it was you who pledged the gold watch—it was you who offered the diamond ring in pledge.
Thomas Cracker. Q. Did I not give you a written agreement with the watch in my own writing? A. Yes, it was a written agreement—I have mislaid it—I had it at the police-court.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Did you produce the duplicate at the police-court? A. Yes, at Worship-street, and at Stones-end—Samuel Cracker is the one I gave in custody for offering the diamond ring for pledge.
ROBERT MOCABE . I am a chronometer manufacturer, of Cornhill—Thomas Cracker has been in my employment—I am not sufficiently acquainted with his writing to recognise it—this order was not written with my authority—neither of these three other orders (produced) are in my writing, nor did I authorise anybody to write them.
Samuel Cracker. Q. Did you not say at Stone-end that I was the individual that had been in your employ? A. I stated that I believed so—I believed then that you were Thomas Cracker—you said that you were not, but I still believed you were—I cannot say that I have seen you in my establishment.
Thomas Cracker. Q. Are you sure that I am Thomas Cracker? A. Yes, I believe so—I do not know whether this order was written by you, because I do not know your writing—this book which I produce contains some of your writing, and these are some tickets also in your writing—these tickets were produced by you every Saturday for small charges that you had incurred during the week—they were not always produced to me, but sometimes they were—I cannot swear they were written by you—I think you did write to me after you left my employ, but I do not remember the circumstances—I think this order does bear a resemblance to your writing.
ALEXANDER MCLEOD (policeman, A 457). I was called to Mr. Attenborough's shop by his assistant on 23d December—Samuel Cracker was there—Mr. Bolton said he had offered to pledge a diamond ring, having pledged a gold watch about two hours previous, and he thought there was something wrong or suspicious about it—he handed me the diamond ring, and I asked the prisoner what account he could give of it, and whose ring it was—he said that it was his brother's, whose name was Wilson, and his own name was Thomas Brown—I took him to the station and searched him—I found on him the four gold watches produced, four diamond rings, a duplicate of a diamond ring pledged that morning, and these four orders—he said they all belonged to his brother, but that unfortunately for him they were found in his posession; he had taken them from his house that morning to give to his brother—he said it was his twin brother that had pledged the gold watch—two days afterwards I took Thomas Cracker—I told him I should take him into custody for being concerned with his brother in forging and
uttering a forged request for goods—he made no reply—on conveying them from the Southwark to the Worship-street police-court, Samuel said, "This is a serious charge"—I said, "It is"—he said, "How do you think we shall get on"—I said I could not say—he said "Well, we ought to have known better than do such things."
Samuel Cracker. Q. Did I say that we ought to have known better? A. Yes—I am certain of that—you told me your name was Thomas Brown—the duplicate for the diamond ring is in the name of Thomas Brown—I saw you at Mr. Attenborough's shop for the first time—I never said I had seen you on the causeway talking to a tall man—I took the orders from your pocket—they were in a little book—three of the orders are directed to tradesmen, and one is not—you said they belonged to your brother.
Thomas Cracker. Q. Was I not at home when you took me into custody? A. Yes—I did not find any property on you—you had about 10s. 11d. in money—I told you your brother was in custody when I took you.
COURT. Q. Look at those little bills produced by Mr. McCabe, in whose writing are they? A. Those are in the writing of Thomas Cracker.
Thomas Cracker called
LEWIS R. HILL . I am the governor of Sandwich Jail—I should not like to swear to Thomas Cracker's writing—he writes in a different hand now to what I have seen him write—this order does not bear much resemblance to the writing I saw of his while he was in my custody—he was fifteen months in my custody, and I saw him write then—he always wrote a back hand.
GUILTY .**— Ten Years' each in Penal Servitude .
There was another indictment against the prisoners.
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON defended Sutton.
HENRY LONGWORTH . I am a collector, and live at 98, Brook-road, Dalston—on Saturday night, 20th January, about 11 o'clock I was going through Sydney-square, Stepney, four men knocked me down, dragged my trousers' pocket out, injured my arm, and cut my lip—I had from 7s. to 8s. in my pocket—I called out, "Murder!" and "Police!"—I recognise Sutton as one of them.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not you say before the Magistrate that you slipped down. A. I do not remember—I was not knocked down—I had been drinking, but not with these men—I heard a woman say at the police-court "I was with Sutton and his wife at a public-house in the Mile-end-road, and the prosecutor came in and gave us some gin and some ginger beer"—I am not aware that I was in that public-house—I had been drinking—I do not know that I was in a very generous mood—the 7s. or 8s. were in my pocket five or ten minutes before I was robbed—I had changed half a sovereign in a public-house a short time before.
MR. HORRY. Q. Do you know what public-house it was? A. No—I think I went about a quarter of a mile before I got to Sydney-square—I have no recollection of having seen a woman in the public-house—I treated some one with gin, but I cannot say who it was—I left the public-house by myself—I cannot say that I had seen either of the persons by whom I was attacked, at the public-house.
Sydney-square on Saturday night, 20th January, about 11 o'clock, and saw the prisoners on the west side—two other men were with them—I heard Sutton say, "Let him have it," or "Give it him"—I won't be sure which—I know Sutton's voice—I saw them hustling somebody.—I went to the corner of the square, where I caught Sutton, and said, "Hallo, Sutton, what is this?" and the next moment I heard the prosecutor call out, "Police!" and "Murder!"—Sutton had just come away from where the prosecutor was—I saw the prosecutor fall—I was on the opposite side of the square to them—Ellis passed by me, and I made a grab at him, and said, "Come on, George, "but he got away; so did the other men—Sutton said, "Brydon, do you think I was going to rob the man? we have all been drinking together"—I went up to the prosecutor—he said he had been robbed, and his pocket torn out—he was then covered with mud—he showed me his pocket.
Cross-examined. Q. Are those the prosecutor's trousers that you have there? A. Yes—they have been under lock and key at the station ever since.
COURT. Q. Have you any doubt that Ellis was there? A. None at all, I called him by name.
STEDMAN NICHOLS (Policeman, K 433). I saw the prisoners together in the Mile-end-road on Saturday night, 20th January, at about a quarter to 9—Sutton had his wife and child with him—Sydney-square is about a quarter of a mile from where I saw them.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate:—Sutton says, "I have a woman in Court who was drinking with the gentleman at the same time I was, if you will allow her to say a few words." Ellis says, "I had nothing to do with it; I was in my place up to a quarter to 12."
Sutton adds, "On Saturday night I left my work at half-past 6, and went home to tea—I went out with my wife, and we went into the White Hart, to have a pint of beer; the prosecutor was there; he said, 'This is the way to wear big boots. Will you accept a glass of ale.' He was in liquor; I said, I do not mind; 'then he got into the company of another man, who was also intoxicated, and they tossed for a pint of gin, and the prosecutor won, but the other would not pay; prosecutor paid for it; the prosecutor asked me the way to Bethnal-green church; I went out to direct him; we had some more ale on the way, and I left the prosecutor going towards Sydney-square; I saw him get into conversation with two women, and afterwards fall against some railings; the constable, knowing me, came up and said, 'Where are you going, Peter?' I said, 'Home;' and was then charged with the robbery. NOT GUILTY .
FREDERICK KNAPP . I am warehouseman to Charles and James Weldon, of 130, Cheapside—on 16th December, the prisoner came to me and asked for some patterns of silk serge—he said he came from J. C. Kennedy and Co. of Saville-row—they are woollen drapers, and customers of our firm—I supplied him with patterns, and he returned in about two hours—he handed me a pattern, and said Messrs. Kennedy had selected one of the patterns and wished for the piece corresponding to it—I gave him a piece containing
about ninety-six yards, worth about 15l.—I asked him whether it was to be kept, or merely given upon approbation—he said it was to be kept, as it was to be sent to a customer of theirs at Liverpool, and he mentioned the name of Calvert and Robinson—an invoice was made out in the entering-room—he signed for the goods in a book, but I did not see him sign—we did not discover anything wrong until we sent our account in at Christmas—I parted with the goods on the representation that he had been sent by Messrs. Kennedy and Co.
Cross-examined. Q. Have Messrs. Weldon a large establishment? A. Yes; a great many people come there during the day—it was about 11 o'clock when the prisoner first called—he was there about ten minutes—there are others in the warehouse besides me—no one else spoke to him that I am aware of—the clerk that entered the goods is here—I had not seen the prisoner before—to the best of my recollection he had a sort of billycock hat, and a dark coat, brown or drab.
GEORGE KIPLING . I am clerk to Messrs. Kennedy and Co. of Saville-row—I do not know the prisoner—I did not send any person to Messrs. Weldon for goods in December—no goods were received from them—they could not have been received without my knowledge—I post all the invoices, and had these goods been delivered, they would have come under my notice—I can say that no such order was sent from our house.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you customers named Calvert and Robinson, of Liverpool? A. Yes; I am not the only person that orders goods for our house, but all orders should go through me—the country order clerk orders goods as well—he is not here—all goods that are received by us are entered in a book called the "Standard"—I have gone carefully through that book, but cannot find any entry of these goods.
MR. DALY. Q. Are you able to say that no such piece was delivered to your employers in the month of December? A. I am.
JOHN BROWN . I am partner to Messrs. Gagniere and Co. of 35, Goldensquare, woollen drapers—I know the prisoner—he was in their employ about July last—his duties were to pack up goods and send them away to the country—I know his writing—the signature in this book, "John Saunders," I believe to be his.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been with Messrs. Gagniere? A. I left them last July—I was away six months, and I have now gone back to them again—I was dismissed—nothing was insinuated against me at the time I was dismissed—I was only there on a job—I have been back three weeks last Thursday.
DAVID DYSON . I am a clerk in the entering room of Messrs. Weldon and and Co. on 16th December, about 2 o'clock, Saturday afternoon, Mr. Kemp brought a piece of serge down, and asked me to enter it—he said that it was a good house, and gave me an order—the prisoner was present—I entered the goods, and wrote the name in this book, "J. C. Kennedy and Co."—the prisoner signed, "John Saunders"—I had not seen him before.
Cross-examined. Q. Was that the only opportunity you had of seeing him while you were entering that order? A. Yes; I could not say what coloured coat he had on—I think it was a light one—he had a round black hat on.
MR. DALY. Q. Have you any doubt that he is the man? A. Not the slightest.
year 1863—I had opportunities of seeing him write, and I know his writing—the signature, "John Saunders, "I believe to be his writing—I have his signature-book here.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see this signature, "John Saunders?" A. At the Mansion House.
EDWARD HANCOCK (City-policeman). On 3d January, from information I received, I went to 24, Stafford-place, South Pimlico, with Mr. Knapp—I found the prisoner in a room on the second floor—MR. Knapp looked at him and said, "You are the man that came to Messrs. Weldon's on 16th December, and had a piece of silk serge," and the prisoner said, "You are mistaken"—I said to Knapp, "If you are not perfectly sure that he is the man, do not give him into custody"—he said, "I am perfectly sure he is the man"—I then told him I should take him in custody on the charge—he said, "I do not know anything about it"—nothing was found relating to the charge—I took him to Bow-lane police-station, and placed him amongst eight other men of his own height and stature—I sent for a man named Lewis to look at them—Lewis tapped the prisoner on the shoulder, and said, "This is the man; I am positive."
Cross-examined. Q. Were there any policemen among those seven or eight men? A. All policemen in plain clothes—they are what we term probationary men.
JOHN LEWIS . I am warehouseman to Messrs. Farden and Co. silk manufacturers, Milk-street, Cheapside—on 28th December, the prisoner came to our warehouse with a pattern of serge, and represented that he came from the firm of Landon and Co.—he brought the pattern to be matched—he said it was to be sent to customers of theirs at Liverpool—MR. Farden looked out two pieces of serge—the prisoner only asked for one—they were entered, and as I was packing them up, I engaged the prisoner in conversation about his firm—I asked him if they closed on boxing-day—he said, "No"—I had a good opportunity of seeing him—the two pieces were made into a parcel and given to him—one measured ninety-five yards and threequarters, and the other ninety-five yards and a quarter—they were worth 30l.—he signed for them in this book, "S" or "F. Frank"—I saw him write that.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you gave him two pieces, and he only asked for one? A. He asked for one, but Mr. Farden wished him to take two—I had never seen him before—MR. Farden was in the warehouse during the whole of the time prisoner was there—he is not here—William Cooper, and Edward John James were also in the warehouse—William Cooper is here—the prisoner was dressed in a low hat and a jacket of a black and white mixture—he was in our place about ten minutes.
MR. DALY. A. Just explain that about the two pieces? A. Porters and messengers are frequently sent from West-end houses to ask for two or three pieces of silk, but they generally ask for one, consequently we frequently lose the sale by their taking only one piece, and we sometimes give them two—they are taken on approbation—these were sent upon approbation—they slightly differed from the pattern.
WILLIAM COOPER . I am a porter in the employ of Messrs. Farden and Co.—on 28th December, the prisoner came to their warehouse—he asked for a piece of silk serge to match the pattern he had—he said it was for Messrs. Landon—I entered the goods in a book, and the prisoner signed it—that book is not here—he remained there about ten minutes—I am certain he is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you certain he is the man, although you never saw him before?, A. Yes—sometimes a dozen different people come into our place in the course of a day—I think I recollect every face I see—I think I should know the whole of the gentlemen of the jury if I were to see them again—I should, if they were to come into our shop singly.
RANDALL SCOTT (re-examined). I did not send any person to Messrs. Farden on 28th December for silk serge—I should have known it if anybody had been sent—no serge was delivered—when the prisoner was in our employ we had a lad there named Frank Kelly, he went by the name of "Frank"—the "Frank"in this book I believe to be in the prisoner's writing.
Cross-examined. Q. What department are you engaged in? A. The foreign department—there are several departments—my duties in the foreign department are to roll, pile, sort, and weigh goods—the orders are generally given by the masters themselves—neither of those gentlemen are here.
MR. DALY. Would you know if any person bad been sent in the course of. business for these goods? A. Yes—everything that is delivered is entered in a book called the "Standard"—that book is not here—every description of goods is entered in it.
GUILTY .— Confined Two Years .
MR. WILLS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. J. S. GRIFFITHS the Defence.
JOHN BEECHAM . I live at No. 1, Gilbert-street, Clare-market, about 150 yards from No. 4, Portsmouth-street—about twenty-five minutes to 4 on the morning of 16th January I had occasion to go out for a doctor—I saw the prisoner standing by the side of my door—he then walked towards Portsmouth-street—I followed him—when I came from the doctor's I saw him—shortly after that I had occasion to go to the doctor's again, and I saw him standing a few doors further up, in a doorway—three or four minutes only elapsed before I went to the doctor's a second time—just as I was turning the corner of my street the second time, I heard a cry of "Police;"—I ran back to where the cry appeared to be, and found the window shutters of No. 4, Portsmouth-street down, and the window forced open—I next saw the prisoner in the prison-yard, where he was put amongst other men, and I identified him—I am sure he is the man I saw on three occasions.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen him before? A. No—I may have had some conversation with the policeman about the prisoner's identity, but I do not remember his saying to me, "Why the devil can't you swear to him?"—I will pledge my word he did not say that to me—I did not reply by saying, "How can I swear to a man whom I have never seen before—the prisoner was not drunk when I saw him.
DAVID DAVIS (Policeman, F 82). About ten minutes to 4 on the morning of 16th January, I was in Bear-yard, Clare-market—that is about 107 yards from No. 4, Portsmouth-street—I heard a shuffling noise in a cab down the yard, and saw the prisoner come out of a cab on the off-side—I asked him what he was doing there—he said, "All right, policeman, I was only making water"—I went to see if he had been doing so, but could find
no signs of water—I examined the cab, and found two new overcoats, and a pair of new trousers (produced)—I immediately went in the direction the prisoner went—I saw another constable, and described him to him—about four minutes afterwards I saw the prisoner, and said, "This is the man that had the clothes in the cab"—he said, "How could I be in the Bear-yard, when I am here—I had said nothing to him about Bear-yard—I am certain he is the man I saw in the cab.
Cross-examined. Q. How far were you from the prisoner when you first saw him? A. About three yards and a half—I stood within a yard of him once—I followed him to the end of the passage, and then went back to look at the cab—I looked at the cab about a minute after I saw him
JOSEPH HILL . I live at No. 4, Portsmouth-street, Clare-market, and am a clothier—I sleep in the shop—on 16th January, I went to bed about 12 o'clock—I fastened the place up myself—a little before 4 o'clock I heard a noise in connection with the shutter-bars—at first I thought it was a police-man—I listened, and for a moment all was still—directly afterwards I heard it again, and immediately jumped out of bed, called out "Halloa!" and opened the door—as I did that the two shutters which had been taken down came against me, and I found that the plate glass window had been forced in—the glass was not broken—I missed two coats and a pair of trousers—these are them—they are worth 3l. 10s.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not the policeman say to you, "Why he devil can't you swear to the man?"A. No, nothing of the sort
. NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, January 31st, 1866.
For cases tried this day, see kent and surrey cases.
~NEW COURT.—Wednesday, January 31st, 1866.
Before Mr. Justice Shee.
MESSRS. COLLINS and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. METCALFE and MR. BUTLER RIGBY the Defence.
ANN INSON . I live at 18, Green-street, Paddington—my husband keeps a beer-shop—on 9th January, the prisoner's wife came into my barparlour somewhere about 9 o'clock, I could not say to a minute—she was alone—she was not sober—the prisoner came in between 9 and 10—he sat down in a chair, not far from his wife—I do not know that he said anything particular to her—they appeared very good friends—she sang a song, and the prisoner joined in the last verse—after that the prisoner began telling a lodger of mine that he had taken a contract that day in Mortimer-street—when the prisoner came in, his wife was sitting by the door, and he went and sat at
the other Side of the door against the table—I cannot say how far they were apart—it is but a small room, twelve feet two by eight feet two—while he was talking about the contract, his wife interfered, and said she would not allow any business to be talked of in a public-house—he told her to hold her tongue—she called him a b—y thief; and threw a bottle at him, which held about three half-quarterns—it did not hit him, but fell in the fireplace—this is like the bottle—he kept on telling her to hold her tongue, as he would not have it—she was very violent in her manner—she also used violent language—he insisted upon her holding her tongue, but she would not—the prisoner then jumped up and took a knife off the table—I then turned my back and went towards the door—I saw blood before I went outside the door—I then ran to my next door neighbour for assistance—when I came back, the prisoner was supporting his wife very kindly, with his arm round her waist—I did not see Mrs. Ringwood after she was dead.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the deceased endeavour to strike the prisoner? A. I did not see her—my attention was called away—she was a very powerful woman—she used threatening expressions.
COURT. Q. What do you mean by threatening? A. She threatened to hit him—I am sure she said something that conveyed to my mind the impression that she intended to hit him—I understood it so, but I do not remember the exact expression.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Was that the moment when he took up the knife? A. yes—I could not say whether she had gone towards him at that time—she had risen from her seat and crossed the room—she crossed near the sofa, and went to the fire-place, which were not so far apart as I am from his Lordship—I could not say whether there was a pewter pot standing on the table, which she tried to get hold of—there are no pewter pots there, only when we use them ourselves—I had not seen anyone eating bread and cheese—I cannot say who had been using the knife, I might have used it myself—I believe there was a cup and saucer, or something of that kind, which I might have been using—this room is a place in which we live—the deceased was a very violent woman, and frequently intoxicated—I have seen her intoxicated a great many times—I have seen her very violent to the prisoner—she was a great deal bigger than he is; a very finelooking woman—I have seen her strike the prisoner a great many times with her fist, and she has threatened to throw a pint pot at him—she has been taken to the police court several times for striking him, and fined, and I believe he has paid the fines for her—he was always very kind to her, and a most affectionate father—he has nine children—I never saw him tipsy, not to say tipsy—he was always regular at his work—I cannot say whether the bottle was thrown violently or not—he stooped his head, and avoided it, and it went into the fire-place.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Is this the same bottle that was thrown? A. It is—it is not broken—it broke a little fancy bird—I do not know what the result of the charge was that the husband made against her—I cannot say whether she ever was imprisoned—I cannot say how far the table was from where the prisoner was sitting—if he got up he could reach the knife—I saw him take the knife off the table—he might have had about two steps to go to get it—he must have used it instantly—I did not see him use it—she was close by the sofa, and that is not far from the table—I cannot say exactly how far.
lodging at Mrs. Inson's beer-shop—I got home that night about a quarter to 10—I found the prisoner and his wife in the bar-parlour—she was sitting down singing a song—she was about a yard and a half from him—he joined in the chorus of the song, and they appeared very happy together—after the song he began telling me about a contract which he had made during the day, and he appeared very pleased about it—his wife objected to it, and said that it was not a fit place to speak of business in a public-house—he continued to talk to me about his business—she was very angry with him, and called him a b—y thief—then she removed from where she was sitting to the other end of the room; not the end at which he was—he continued talking to me about his business, and she took up a bottle and threw at him—this is the sort of bottle—it did not strike him—she called him a sly b——he told her to hold her noise, and no more of that—she attempted to strike him, and he took a knife off the table, and stabbed her with it whilst she was in the act of striking him—I cannot say whether he reached the knife, or whether he took steps to get it—it was almost within his reach—I saw the deceased in the attitude of striking him, but whether she did or not, I could not say—she was near enough almost to strike him—the prisoner stabbed her by a down blow—I saw his arm uplifted—I could not say that I saw the blow struck—I heard the blood gush from the wound like water from a tap, but I did not see any until I returned—I ran to fetch a policeman—there appeared to be a good deal of blood—this is the knife (produced), and this is how the prisoner's arm was.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you known them for some time? A. I have known the man for some months—he is very steady, and was very kind to his wife—she was a very violent and drunken woman—he took the knife up in the height of passion and self-defence—it was done in a moment—she was then in the act of striking him—when I saw the knife in his hand and his arm uplifted, I went for a constable—I saw no one eating—there were a lot of cups and such things on the table.
THOMAS STEER (Police-inspector, X). On Tuesday, 9th of January, I went to the Greyhound beer-house, 18, Green-street, Paddington, about a quarter past 10, and saw the prisoner there, Mr. Hammond, the surgeon, and the deceased, who was lying on the sofa and appeared dead—I directed Constable Jones to take the prisoner to the station—I followed directly afterwards—Jones gave me this knife—a quantity of blood was on it, about half he depth of the blade—he was sober, but very excited—I told him he was charged with the murder of his wife by stabbing her, and that whatever he said I should take down and repeat again—he said, "I know what I have done; she was singing a song in the room. I said, 'Grace, do not sing.' I never intended it, so help me God; it was done with a knife. I only done it to protect myself. I was cutting some bread, and she slapped my face. I then threw the knife at her, after coming from the shop, where I had been making a contract for 31l. I found her outside drunk, in Mortimer-street"—I then read the charge to him—he said, "With great respect to you, Sir, the writing is a lie, I mean the charge; I threw it at her.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure he made use of that expression originally, "I threw it at her? was it not, "I held it up to her?" A. No—I have not got the sheet on which I entered the charge—it was, "by stabbing your wife with a knife"—I am sure that was part of it—I have known the deceased about two years and a half—she has been at the policestation
four times for assaults—once for assaulting the prisoner—I believe he has paid the fines for her, he also became bail for her once—she was a very dissipated woman, and very violent when drunk—she was much more powerful than he is—he was charged with her upon one occasion, but discharged by the Magistrate—she was fined, and he paid it.
ROBERT STEPHENS . I am a carpenter—I Was examined at the inquest—I think the prisoner is a decorator and paper-hanger—on Tuesday night, 9th January, I was called into Mrs. Inson's bar-parlour, and saw the prisoner and the deceased there—he had got her between his legs, resting her—he held her head with one hand, and his left hand he had got on the wound—he said, "For God's sake, do not all desert me. If I have done a rash act, in a moment of passion, for God's sake help me; don't all desert me"—I asked him what he had done—he drew his hand a little on one side from the wound, and I saw what it was—he said, "For God's sake, Mr. Stephens, run for a doctor for your life; fetch a doctor at any price, I will pay"—I went and fetched Mr. Hammond—the prisoner appeared very agitated and distressed—I have known him for nine or twelve months—he lived on very friendly terms with his wife, but now and then she was the worse for drink—I never knew the prisoner the worse for drink; he is as steady and sober a man as you would find in London—I had seen them an hour and a half previously to this.
Cross-examined. Q. At that time were they both very friendly? A. Both—he was in good spirits about having got his contract—when I went into the bar-parlour, he was endeavouring to stop the blood, and nursing her as well as he could.
COURT. Q. Where was the wound? A. Just in the front of the lower part of the ear—just under the ear.
GEORGE JAMES HAMMOND , M.R.C.S. I live at Paddington-green—on Tuesday night, 9th January, Mr. Stephens fetched me to a beer-shop—I went there, and found the prisoner supporting the deceased on the floor in front of the sofa—I tried to administer some brandy to her, but the woman was dead—I examined the wound, which was on the left side of the face, in front of the ear—it was under the ear towards the jaw—it must have been caused by the hand being raised above, and struck downwards—it was about two inches deep, and three inches long—this (produced)is the sort of knife that would have caused such a wound—judging from the appearance of the wound, the blow must have been given with considerable force—this is a blunt knife, and would require great violence to cause such a wound.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you make the post-mortem examination? A. I and Mr. Beale made it together—the knife went into the side of the cheek and then passed the cord of the jaws, chipping a piece of the bone off, and then into the neck, not from the outside, but the inside—what I mean by the wound being two inches deep, is that that is all that was visible, the external wound.
JOHN SAMUEL BEALE, M. R. C. S . I live at 4, Porteous-road—in conjunction with Mr. Hammond, I made a post-mortem examination of the deceased—I found a superficial wound on the left side of the face, about two inches long—I traced its course downwards, and found that it had passed along the inner side of the upright portion of the lower jaw, chipping a piece off the angle of the lower jaw, about the size of a horse-bean: then it divided the internal jugular vein, just at the point where it communicates with the external jugular vein—in my opinion, death was caused by an effusion of blood into the windpipe—the back of the windpipe had been punctured by
the knife—the depth of the wound was three and a half to four inches—a knife like this would cause such a wound—I should think great force must have been used—the wound slanted down to an angle of nearly fifteen degrees—probably her head was thrown on one side when she saw the blow coming.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not this woman taller than the prisoner? A. Yes; a stout, finely-built woman—the knife must have been held very steady for her to have rushed against it and caused this wound—I could not say that the wound was caused in that way—her liver was that of a drunken woman.
COURT. Q. You think the mischief might have been done by her rushing against the knife? A. It might—I do not mean that a person by the mere motion of the head against such a knife as this would cause such a wound—it must have been with the whole force of the body: a rush.
Q. Which do you think most probable? A. That it was a direct stab downwards.
Q. If the bone had not given way would the wound have been so serious? A. I think probably it might.
The prisoner received an excellent character. GUILTY .—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Confined Fifteen Months .
MR. F. H. LEWIS and MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
GEORGE DORNBUSCH . I carry on business at the South Sea House in Threadneedle-street and am the proprietor of the"Floating Cargoes Mornand Evening List"—I know the prisoner, I believe he is the proprietor of a similar publication to mine—it is called, "Fermi's List"—that purports to give the same sort of information as my "Morning List"—on Saturday morning, 23d December, about half-past ten, I was passing through the passage of Gresham House on the way to my office—it was a very dark morning and the passage was very dark—when I arrived in the middle of the passage, which is the darkest part of it, I felt several blows on my back accompanied by a stinging sensation—they were given from behind and I could not see anyone—I turned round, staggered, and fell down, striking a heavy blow on my left temple and left shoulder—the passage is paved with stones—I cannot say how many blows I received before I fell—I felt a good many—after I had fallen the blows were continued over my chest and abdomen—at that time I did not know what the wounds were inflicted with—I felt several punctures, but could not imagine what it was—it was dark and I did not see anyone—I did not make any resistance nor attempt to grapple with my assailant, and at that time I did not think of danger—I did not lose my senses—I was lifted by some one and I then felt great pain in every part of my body, but mostly in my back—with the assistance of two persons I was taken into Mr. Sparkley's office on the ground floor—I was there undressed and then I found I had been stabbed—there was blood in several parts—I had on an overcoat, undercoat, waistcoat, shirt, undershirt, drawers, and trousers—in the lower front pocket of my undercoat I had this diary, and these are some of the papers I had in my breast pocket—there are three marks on the diary produced by the stabs; one is nearly through it—that diary covered my abdomen—that would, in a measure, protect the groin—the papers I had in my breast pocket were also pierced in several places—
the police officer came into Mr. Sparkley's office and showed me two spears—I believe this is the one that came in contact with the pocket-book and was bent—I was taken to the police-station in a cab—I was asked there in the prisoner's presence whether I thought he meant to murder me—I said I thought not—at that time I did not know how many stabs I had received, nor had I seen my diary nor the other papers, and I did not like to throw out the worst imputation against him—when I said I did not think he intended to murder me, he said, "I did"—he then said I had assassinated his six children—I have never seen his children—I then had the services of my own medical attendant, Dr. Pettifer, and am under his care now—I had thirteen wounds in my body; three in the back, eight in the groin, one on the left hip, and one on the right arm—they are independent of the stabs I received in my pocket-book, in which there are three, and there are four to be seen in my papers—altogether there were twenty stabs—I have not spoken to the prisoner for the last five years, and I have been very careful to avoid giving him any provocation—my "Evening List"appeared in 1858, and the "Morning List" was transferred from another proprietor—it has been in existence seven years—it was commenced in 1854 and was transferred to me in 1861—I have now forty-two or forty-three subscribers, and at the time when it was transferred to me I had only twenty-two—I believe the prisoner's paper was established in 1852.
Cross-examined. Q. How long do you suppose this occupied from the time you were first struck? A. I should say about a minute and a half or two minutes—nothing was said during that time—I think I have known the prisoner since 1858—he has behaved very strange at times—when I first started my "Evening List" in 1858 he constantly interfered with me, and when he understood I was going to take that from the "Morning List" we had a very long correspondence about it and he endeavoured to dissuade me from taking it—I should say that he may be sane on some points, but on the subject of his list he is most decidedly a monomaniac.
COURT. Q. I do not understand what you mean by "on the subject of his list," do you mean to say that the list contains nonsensical and absurd entries? A. Not his list, but his conduct in reference to it.
Q. Do you believe that at the time he was stabbing you he knew whether he was doing right or wrong? A. I believe he was then under the influence of an uncontrollable passion, and that he did not know what he was doing—I believe he has an office on Tower-hill, but I have never been there—I have seen him on 'Change.
GEORGE COGDALE . I am a porter, employed by the Gresham House Company, Old Broad-street—between ten and eleven on the morning of 23d December, I saw the prisoner about midway in the passage of Gresham House—it was a very dark morning and it is a covered passage—it is a public thoroughfare from Broad-street to Bishopsgate-street—I saw him standing over Mr. Dornbusch, stabbing at his body—MR. Dornbusch was lying on the ground—I could not see what he was stabbing him with; it was something bright—he dropped something before I got to him—I caught hold of his hands—he said, "He has assassinated six of my children"—he said that three or four times—afterwards I went for a policeman.
JOHN JACOB (City police-inspector). About eleven o'clock on the evening of 23d December I was on duty at the Bishopsgate police-station—the prisoner was brought there in the custody of John Kelsey—shortly afterwards the prosecutor was brought in by two gentlemen—he charged the prisoner with stabbing him in Gresham House—these two spears were brought in at
the same time—I asked the prosecutor if he thought the prisoner intended to murder him, and he said he thought not—the prisoner then said, "I did, I did; he has assassinated six of my children; I have given him seven years to redeem it, and instead of getting better he gets worse"—he repeated that several times—the prosecutor appeared to be very weak and in great pain—the prisoner said Mr. Dornbusch had reduced him to poverty.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not he also say that he had not done any harm? A. Yes, I believe he did say that.
JAMES KELSEY (City-policeman, 644). About eleven o'clock on the morning of 23d December I was called to Gresham House—I found two gentlemen assisting Mr. Dornbusch up—I went a little further and saw the prisoner standing with a crowd round him—I said to him, "Have you stabbed that man?"—he said, "Yes, I have; he has assassinated my six children and brought me to beggary"—I took him to Mr. Dornbusch's office, South Sea House, and from there back to Gresham House, where I met the prosecutor with constable 630, who gave me these two spears—I searched the prisoner and found pinned round his waist under his Inverness cape this case—I asked him what that was for—he said, "It is what I carried those things in," pointing to the spears.
JOHN NESBIT . (Examined by MR. WILLIAMS). Q. How long have you known the prisoner? A. Some years—his conduct has excited my attention—my opinion is that he has not been in his senses for some time—I have frequently heard him threaten personal violence to himself and to his children—I know that the six children alluded to are alive—on the night before this, he called me out of the Baltic Coffee-house, of which I am a member, and said, "I shall do it now"—I said, "Do what?"—he said, "You must consider me now as nothing; I shall strangle my six children, and then myself"—I remonstrated with him—I said, "You are a full-grown man yourself; do not, however, be so foolish as to do anything to yourself, and on all accounts don't touch your children"—I gave him good advice under the circumstances, and he left me—he was perfectly insane at that moment, and has been for a long time—this is about the fiftieth conversation of the kind I have had with him during the last twelvemonths.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Did he conduct this daily paper of which he is the proprietor? A. He and a printer together—there was not much editing about it—I believe he went amongst the subscribers to his paper, but it was in a very extraordinary way—many of them could have come here to-day, but they asked me to explain the circumstances—I never heard him threaten personal violence to Mr. Dornbusch—I may tell you that I once went to his house with a Greek gentleman (three of us having undertaken the education of his children) and we found him in the most frightful state of excitement—he talked of "pitching" his children to Jesus Christ, and "pitching" them to the Christians—he is by birth a Jew, and his wife is a Christian—his children have been baptized into the Church of England lately.
COURT. Q. Are you any relation to him? A. No; the idea of putting him under restraint has been the subject of very much discussion among us, but it was a most critical and delicate thing for us to interfere in.
JAMES HENRY PETTIFER , M.R.C.S. I reside at 50, Southgate-road, Islington, and am the prosecutor's medical attendant—on Saturday, 23d December, I was called to Gresham House, and I found him lying on a couch—I stripped him, and examined him in front—I afterwards examined him at his own house—I found eight stabs in the region of his groins, one on his hip, three on his back, and a small one on his right elbow—it was rather difficult to
ascertain their exact depth, but the greatest depth I could find distinctly was a quarter of an inch, or, perhaps, a little over one third—these are likely instruments to cause such wounds—his clothes were punctured in many places—the stab that nearly went through the diary must have been given with considerable force—the wounds were not so dangerous as they would have been had he not been so well protected—the force of the blows, I think, was expended in passing through the clothes.
COURT. Q. Would these require much force to go through the clothes? A. No.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:—"I reserve for the trial what I have to say "
Witnesses for the Defence.
ANTONIO RALLI . I carry on business at 9, Gracechurch-street—I have known the prisoner several years—judging from his conduct, I should say that the state of his mind is rather irregular—it is impossible for me to speak to his sanity, but he has so very often spoken in such a strange manner, that I should not consider him a very sane man
Cross-examined. Q. Have you visited his house? A. No; I may have seen him half a dozen times during the last twelve months—I have met him in the streets, and he has wanted me to take his list
ANGELO USIGLIO . I am a merchant, of 88, Great Tower-street—I have known the prisoner many years by sight, but for the last four or five years he has had an office in the same house as I have, and I have had occasion to see him almost every day—I have always considered him not entirely insane, but certainly not sane—I should not consider him responsible for his actions.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he live with his wife and family? A. I think he did—I visited him once about two years ago—he lives in St. John's Crescent, New Camden Town—he attended his place of business every day—his office is on the same floor as mine—I saw him on 22d December, the day before this took place—he was just the same then, always speaking of other people's affairs—he had strange ideas of religion, and always wanted to talk on religious subjects—he never tried to stab me—he had no encouragement from me to talk on religious subjects—he did not believe in the immortality of the soul—he is of the Jewish nation, but I do not think he has any religious creed at all—on one occasion he came to me at the Commercial Rooms, and told me there was somebody in the office waiting for me very particularly—I went to the office, but could not find anybody, and went in to him and told him so, and said, "Do you know who it was?"—he said, "It was the cat wanted to get in"
FRANCIS DUMAS . I carry on business at 25, Fenchurch-street—I have known the prisoner for twelve years—I should say the world would say he is mad, in the sense in which we understand it, his eccentricities were so great—I think he was under the delusion that everybody was working against him and his interests—his excitement got the better of his reason.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you tell me if the circulation of his paper dropped off? Q. I have heard so—I think he got poorer and poorer—I was a subscriber to his paper—I believe the printer edited it—he kept no clerk—on the occasion of his marriage, twelve years ago, he sent round a printed circular, detailing the circumstances under which he met his first wife—that is what first drew my attention to him—I have observed a certain excitement in him if you refused to take a pinch of snuff from him—I could see there was a feeling of anger—he once applied to me for a post in my office—I pointed out to him that I had no occasion for the services of a gentleman
of his attainments, he then went to his office and wrote an essay on "Commerce," in three languages, Italian, French, and English—I believe it was written correctly, and showed a certain amount of ability.
SARAH RICHARDSON . I am housekeeper at 88, Great Tower-street—the prisoner has had an office there about four years—for the last twelve months I have noticed something very strange about him—he was very excitable, and I should not have been surprised if he had destroyed himself—on the morning of 23d, he came to the office and appeared very strange.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know his wife and family? A. Yes, but not all his children—I have never visited his house—I have been housekeeper at this place nearly twelve years—he used to come about 10, 11, or 12 in the morning—on the morning of the 23d I gave him his key, and he gave it back again about five minutes afterwards, which was very unusual—I never saw these daggers before—he locked his door when he left—he paid me for taking care of his office—one day he had his desk turned round; shortly afterwards he had the man to put it back again into its original place—about two years ago, I told his wife that he was very strange, and during the last twelve months that strangeness has increased—I have never given information to the police.
MR. LEWIS called—
JOHN GIBSON . I am surgeon to the Goal of Newgate—I have had experience in mental diseases—the prisoner has been under my supervision about five weeks—I have had many conversations with him for the purpose of judging the state of his mind, and my opinion is that he is of sound mind—I saw him on 24th December, and he was then perfectly capable of knowing right from wrong.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you had great experience in mental diseases? A. I have had some—I know it is a speciality—I consider I have had much more experience than most medical men, as I have had all the prisoners under my observation for more than ten years, and I am frequently applied to by Magistrates as to the state of the minds of the prisoners.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Confined Twelve Months .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, January 31st, 1866.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
JOHN MACFARLANE . I am a shawl-designer, and live at 8, Aberdeen-place, Maida-hill—on 10th January, about noon, I saw Snow at High Holborn, near the Hill—he asked me the name of some place, which I did not know—I told him I was a stranger—he said he was a stranger too, and asked me to take a walk with him—I said I had no objection—we walked along High Holborn towards the City, and went into the Black Bull public-house, near Holborn-hill—he asked me if I would have a glass of beer, and I consented—I offered to pay for it, but he would not let me—we went into a room by ourselves, and after we had been there a minute or two another man came in, who appeared half-drunk—Snow then went out, and I had some talk with the other man—soon afterwards, Snow returned with Turner and another man, and then Snow and the other man began to toss—they asked Turner to toss, but he said he had so little time that he could
not—Snow thereupon asked me what the time was, and I took out my watch and told him—my watch was a gold one—the man who appeared half-drunk asked if it was genuine, and I said it was—Turner offered to bet two sovereigns that I was right—they then asked me to go and pledge it to test its value, assuring me that I could get it back in less than five minutes—before anything was done with the watch, Snow asked me if I had any money, and I told him only a few shillings—I went out and pledged the watch for 4l.—Turner went with me—when I came back to the public-house, I found Snow and the other two men—they all asked me to bet, and I gave Snow my 4l. (THE COURT considered that there was no case for the Jury, as the prosecutor had evidently deposited his money in the hope of winning.)
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. HORRY the Defence.
JESSIE SWAEBE . I am the wife of David Swaebe—on 16th January I was a passenger in an omnibus to Cheapside—the prisoner sat beside me, and I noticed that her hands kept moving under her cloak—when we got to the middle of Cheapside, another passenger got out—the prisoner followed, and I directly missed my purse—my pocket was torn, though it had been perfectly sound when I left home, my dress being new—my purse contained a sovereign, three half-soverigns, a crown, some sixpences, and threepenny or fourpenny pieces, a pair of earrings, a watch-key and a bill—it was safe in my pocket not four minutes before I discovered its loss—it was afterwards picked up and given to me by Miss Flemington.
Cross-examined. Q. At the moment the prisoner went out was there not another woman who got out too? A. Just before, but they were very close together—there was a cart not far from where the omnibus stopped to let them out, just at Bennett's door—I did not notice what became of the other woman—the prisoner sat next to me, on the side my pocket was—she was not more inside the omnibus than I was—she was sitting third from the door, and kept fidgetting about, as though she had not sufficient room.
JOHN THOMAS HICKMAN . I am in the service of. the London General Omnibus Company, and was with my omnibus in Cheapside on the day in question—after the prisoner left the omnibus, the prosecutrix spoke to me about her purse, and I followed the prisoner—I said, "Here's your umbrella"—she said, "Thank you"—I said, "This lady wants to speak to you"—she said, "Oh dear, not me"—I told her she must come back, and she said, "Well, you need not hold me"—I took her back to the prosecutrix, who charged her with stealing her purse, which she denied—as I was bringing her back, we had to go round a cart which was standing opposite Bennett's clock—the purse was picked up and handed to me by Miss Flemington.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see where the other person who got out of the omnibus at the same time as the prisoner, went to? A. She stood on the step—she never moved farther than a yard or two until the prisoner was brought back.
SARAH FLEMINGTON . I live at Pritchard-row, Hackney-road—on Monday afternoon, 15th January, about 3 o'clock, I was in Cheapside, near Bennett's clock—I saw the omnibus conductor taking the prisoner round a cart—she brushed against me, and then I saw this purse on the ground, on the very spot over which she had passed—I had not noticed the spot before she passed.
WILLIAM NEWNHAM (City-policeman, 427). I was on duty on 15th January, about 3 o'clock, in Cheapside, and saw a mob assembled—I went and found the prisoner, the conductor, and the first witness standing up together—the conductor gave the prisoner into custody for stealing the purse in the omnibus—while standing there, I saw Flemington pick up the purse from the ground, and hand it to the prosecutrix—I told the prisoner what she was charged with, and she said, "It is not me"—going to the station, I asked her where she got into the omnibus, and she said, "Whitechapel"—I asked her why she got out at Cheapside, she replied that she was going to see some relations—I inquired where they lived, and she said, "What do you want to know for?"—at the station she gave her address, No. 6, Pye-street, Westminster, and then afterwards said she was sorry to say she was unfortunate, and lodged anywhere.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:—"I stood up to make room for the lady, and on the other woman going out, I saw the purse on the ground, and picked it up, it might be that woman's; then the conductor came to me, and I dropped the purse; I did not steal it.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months .
MR. GENT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
ALFRED CUSTERSON . I am a coach-builder, of 184, Old-street, St. Luke's—on 6th January, the prisoner called on me at about ten minutes to 4 in the afternoon, and said he wanted to hire a cart—I showed him one—he said that was not good enough—I told him I had not got a better cart, but I had a waggonette—I showed it to him, and he said it would do, and he should want it for about two or three hours, or it might be a little more—the value of it is about 20l.—I told him the charge would be 4s., and he paid it—he had brought a very nice horse to the door—I looked at it, and asked him where he got it from—he said that it belonged to his brother-inlaw, a man named Thompson, whom I knew—I gave him no authority to part with the waggonette—I saw it again next day, Sunday.
Cross-examined. Q. He told you that the cart which you showed him first was not quite good enough for him, because he was going to take a publican out, did he not? A. Yes—I had known him three or four years, passing and re-passing my place, or else I should not have trusted him with the waggonette—I had seen him within a week of his coming home.
JAMES CARPENTER . I live at Providence-place, Dockhead, and am a general dealer—about half-past 8 o'clock on Saturday, January 6th, from something told me by a man named Underwood, I went outside the Sugar Loaf public-house, and saw the prisoner and a man named Murphy with a waggonette—Underwood said to the prisoner, "Here's a man that will buy that trap of you"—I said, "I am no judge; how much do you want for it?"—he first asked 14l., and then he came down to 12l.—I said, "It's too high a price for me; I can't afford to buy it"—Murphy says to me, "Oh, he means selling it"—"Well, "I said, "if you mean to sell it, I'll buy it, but not at that price; who does it belong to, to you?"—he said that he and his brother-in-law were partners; they had had a few words and fell out, and he wanted to sell it to get some money to pay his men—I asked him what tradesman he was, and he said a wagonnette polisher and horse-hair finisher—at last I agreed to give him 6l.—he said he could get more than that on the Monday—"Well, "I said, "if you can, I will take 7l. on
Monday to give it back, which will be 1l. for my bargain, "upon which he says, "If you come to them terms, you shall have it"—I said, I shall call a constable to see I have paid for it"—"Oh, "he says," you can do that with the greatest of pleasure—I then called a constable from over the other side of the way, and told him I thought it was stolen—he says, "you should not think"—I then said to the prisoner, "I had better ride to your house, and see where it belongs to, before I buy it"—"Oh, "he says, "you can do that, if you like"—my brother and a person named John Keane were with me, and we jumped up with Murphy, and John Underwood, and the prisoner, and drove off—when we got to Farringdon-street, the prisoner says to me, "Got any money?"—I said "No, I got no change"—"Well, "he says, I can get two pots of beer at this public-house on tick, "so we got out, and he went and spoke to a person over the bar, and got two pots, and then, as we were drinking it, Murphy says to me, "Look here, we don't want to hurt you, and you don't want to hurt us; the cart is stolen, "to which I said, "If it is stolen, so help me, God, I'll look you up—my brother went outside, and caught hold of the horse's head—Murphy and Underwood then ran away—the prisoner then says to me, "Where's Murphy and Under-wood?" and I says, "They're run away"—I said to my brother, "We had better catch hold of him" meaning the prisoner—I daresay he heard me Say that, and, instead of walking on the pavement, he walks out in the road, and then popped through the cab rank—me and my brother ran after him, calling "Stop thief"—one of his shoes came off, but, without stopping to pick it up, he went along by the Underground Railway, and jumped into the ruins.
Cross-examined. Q. You had not any money at all in your pocket, had you? A. Yes, I had enough to pay for five or six more such—I said I had no change, I meant no silver, no halfpence—I am a general dealer—I travel round the country with fish, oranges, and potatoes, and so on—I do not take my fish round in a waggonette—sometimes I drive a donkey, and sometimes I have a good horse fit for any gentleman to ride on—I did not before to-day state that the prisoner said he was a waggonette-polisher, or that he was in the horsehair trade—I did state at the station-house that Murphy said, "We don't want to hurt you, and you don't want to hurt us; it is stolen "—Underwood was not examined before the Magistrate, though he was subpoenaed—I know Underwood was backed for a match—I knew him because I had seen him often—the house they took me to was called the Mail Coach—I do not know that they went to several houses in Camberwell before they came to me—they had a pot of ale and a quartern of gin in the Sugar Loaf, before they started—I paid for it with all the change I had—I did not say, "I believe you have stolen it, and I may as well have it as anybody else;" nor did I say, "If you don't let me have it, I will round on you"—what I did say was, "If you do not tell me the truth, I will call a policeman, and give you in charge "well, "—"he said, "you are not going to round upon us; you don't want to hurt us, and we don't want to hurt you"—the policeman whom we saw near the Sugar Loaf I believe has stated, that the remembered seeing a waggonette, but does not remember seeing us—we remained at the public-house in Farringdon-street five or ten minutes, or it might have been a quarter of an hour—I did not give the prisoner in custody, because he ran away.
MR. GENT. Q. Had you money to pay for the waggonette, if you had been disposed to buy it? A. Yes, I had 40l. or 50l. and I should have concluded the bargain, if it had been all right."
JAMES HANUN (City-detective). On 9th January I was in the King's-cross-road, and saw the prisoner go into a public-house—I had received information before respecting him—I went in and told him, I was about to take him in custody for the unlawful posession of a horse and waggonette. in Farringdon-street, on the 6th—he said, "Yes, I know all about it; it was only a lark; I got it from Mr. Custerson, in Old-street"—I asked him who the horse belonged to, and he said, "MR. Stratton, of Sekforde-street, Clerkenwell"—I said, "I understand you offered the waggonette for sale to a man at Bermondsey"—he said, "No, I was taken down to Bermondsey by Underwood and Murphy, but we did not intend to sell the waggonette"—those are the words, as near as I can remember—I said, "What made you run away and leave it unprotected in Farringdon-street?"—he said, "Because the man we saw at Bermondsey was going to lock us up"—I took him to the station-house—there was nothing found on him.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
PATRICK SHERIDAN . I am a porter out of employment—I have known the prisoner six months, or a little longer—I pawned the things produced at Mr. Harrison's on 18th August—the prisoner brought them to me at a public-house in Carthusian-street, Aldersgate-street—I pawned goods for him several times in different names—there were marks on them, and I saw him take them off—I found him waiting in the public-house when I came back each time—when I came back and gave him the money, he gave me sometimes 3d sometimes 4d. for my trouble.
Prisoner. Q. Do you identify those napkins produced as those you pledged? A. To the best of my belief they are the same—I have seen you sometimes rub out the marks, and sometimes tear them off—I saw you tear the tickets off these towels—I do any job that I can get—it is about eight years since I was in regular employment—I knew you before Mr. Logan went to reside at Hampstead-road, but I cannot say when—I did not know your name then—you never sent me to redeem any goods that I had pledged, nor that you yourself had pledged—I suspected that the goods were dishonestly come by, and I gave information—I mentioned it to a man named Walters—I could not understand it, you used to come into the tap-room and ask me to take things so often, but I was glad to get the money you gave me—I used to bring you every penny of the money I got, as you could see by the tickets—I do anything that I can earn a penny at, without asking questions—I never carry duplicates about with me for sale—you never asked me to destroy any tickets off the goods, you did it yourself and threw them in the fire—I saw you destroy them several times.
JOHN BRADMAN . I am assistant to Mr. Walters of Aldersgate-street, a pawnbroker—I produce twelve napkins, pledged on 17th August, for 6s. for Sheridan, in the name of Logan, also a piece of lawn pledged on 17th November, by the prisoner, in the name of Webb, for 8s.—I was present with
a constable, when the prisoner and two women came to redeem the piece of lawn—I produce the duplicate of that—the address given in that case was John-street
WILLIAM JOHN FLUESTER (City-policeman, 511). On the afternoon of 9th January, I was in Mr. Walters' shop who bad given information to the police—the prisoner and two women came there—one of the women produced the ticket, and then I went round to the private office with Mr. Walters, and there saw the prisoner—the woman who bad the ticket said in the prisoner's presence that she bought it of him for 2s.—he made no reply—I asked him how he became possessed of the piece of lawn, and he said, "I shall not answer you"—I then told him I was an officer, and took him into custody for unlawful posession—he gave me his address, 9, Osborne-street, Whitechapel—that is a lodging-house—the only answer he made was, "I shall not tell you anything, or I shall get others into trouble."
WALTER GREENBURY . I am a buyer in the linen department of Messrs. Bradbury and Co. of Aldermanbury—the table napkins and lawn produced are all their property—I know the prisoner—he lived in the house in 1859—he was there about four months in the next department to mine—since he left the service I have seen him on some occasions when he has called there, the last time being about the 5th or 7th January—generally when he has come to the house it has been to ask for some outlandish thing or some extraordinary sized crumb-cloth, a thing not generally kept in stock, or something of that sort—he has had access at such times to the place where the stock is kept—I have never sold him anything in my life to my knowledge—some of the marks on the articles produced have not been removed, so that I am able to identify those goods by the marks.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutors cannot state when the goods left their stock; Greenbury says that I never bought anything of him; I never went into the house with the least intention of purchasing; I only wanted to know the prices; I never asked for outlandish or extraordinary sized things; I was not in the warehouse since November, and then only in the presence of others; I went one day to Gibson's, a public-house opposite the General Post Office; I went into one of the back rooms, and joined in the conversation going on; I waited till all the company had left but one person, who said he recognised me as a Scotchman by my talk; I met him again by chance, at various places, not by appointment; one day he said he wished to have some private talk with me, showed me some table-cloths, and asked my opinion of their value; I said I could pledge them for more money than the price for which he proposed to sell them; I asked him more than once where he had them from, and he told me from parties who had advanced money on them to other parties who were pressed for cash; he said the reason he asked me to dispose of them was that he knew I would oblige him, and that I could get a better price than himself; at various times I lent him 2s. and half a crown; about the middle of December I said "Could you get me two or three of those pawn-tickets, because I think I could sell them?" he said, "I think I can," and he gave me the ticket dated 17th November, and one or two others; a few days prior to 9th January two pawn tickets I had disposed of to Mrs. Davis; she sent the servant with the money; the servant was told that one or both the tickets were stopped; the first time I saw Mrs. Davis she told me about the tickets being stopped; I thought it was a joke, and paid no attention to her; the
next time I saw her she asked me in a serious way what was to be done With the tickets; I said at once that I would go with her the first opportunity to Walters'; I went by appointment to Mrs. Davis' and then accompanied her and another woman to Walters'; I went voluntarily for my own satisfaction, and I was immediately given into custody, the policeman being in the next shop at the time; I leave you to judge whether, if I had known that those goods were stolen, I should have spontaneously gone to Walters'.
GUILTYon the Second Count. —Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
JOHN ROBINSON . I am a provision merchant, of 1, Goswell-road—on the morning of 27th January, about 1 o'clock, I met Williams near the Angel, Islington—she said, "Good evening"—I went into the Bluecoat Boy publichouse with her, and had something to drink—afterwards, we went a little higher up into another public-house—I had had a little drop, but I was sober—after leaving the second public-house, I wished her good night—she asked what time it was, and I took out my watch, a silver one, with a gold chain and seal attached to it—she snatched it away, and ran off across the road—I ran after her and overtook her, and had just got hold of her when somebody hit me on the back of the head, I do not know what with—I staggered, and somebody threw their arm round my neck and dragged me to the ground—I fell on my assailant's leg, or on some part of him—in falling, I managed to hold Williams by putting my legs round her legs—at that moment a policeman came up, and I became partly unconscious—my watch and chain were found directly afterwards—the police told me they had got it—these are them (produced).
William. Q. Did you say, "I have been to the Philharmonic, and have been noticing you all the evening?" A. I might have—you did not say "I must go home"—I asked you to have a glass of wine, and you came—I did not say, "Come along with me, I have got a friend up this street"—nor did I say, "I will give you every thing I have got if you will stay with me all night."
WILLIAM SCOTT (Policeman, N 44). I was on duty at half-past 1 o'clock on the morning in question, in Baron-street, and saw Mr. Robinson within a short distance of the Clinton arms, with Williams—I saw Deeley standing a short distance off—Williams suddenly ran away from the prosecutor, who followed her—they ran across the road, about thirty yards, and the prosecutor took hold of her—Deeley was close behind, and as the prosecutor caught hold of Williams, he struck the prosecutor a blow on his head with his fist, and made him stagger—he then put his arm round Robinson's neck and they both fell down—the prosecutor clung his legs round Williams' legs, and she also fell—I saw all this as I was approaching—when I came up to them I spoke to the parties—Deeley's arm was still round Robinson's neck, and I said, "Leave go the man, you will choke him"—Robinson, as soon as he was released, said, "They have got my watch"—Deeley said, "I saw this man ill-using the woman; I have been watching them some time" Williams said, "I have got no watch; this man (meaning Deeley) is a stranger to me"—he said, "Yes, I know nothing of the woman, I am a respectable tradesman"—I then got them off the ground, and as they got up, I saw the watch lying between the prosecutor and Deeley on the pavement
—the chain I directly after saw on the pavement, but nearer Williams' feet—the watch wee just as it is now; the glass was broken and the bow off—that was subsequently picked up and given to me by another person—I took the prisoners to the station—I searched Deeley, and found these two keys on him (produced)—he gave his address 7, Gunpowder-alley, Shoe-lane—they were then put in the cell—after they had been there some time, Williams requested me to ask Deeley for her keys, and said, "I hare a baby locked up in the room"—I went to his cell door, and asked him if he had got the woman's keys—he said, "Them keys that you took from me are hers; give them to her."
HENRY GREEN . I live at 7, Ann-street Wilmington-square—I knew the prisoners—they have been living at my house since 14th December—they occupy the front and beek parlour—one is a sitting room, and the other a bed room.
Deeley's Defence. I did not strike the man; I met him and my fellow prisoner coming out of the Philharmonic; I went home and stayed more than half an hour, expecting her to come home, and then I came out again and went to a public-house to see if she came round that way; I could not find her, and on coming back, I got as far as Baron-street, and I saw a man and woman standing a little way up, but did not know who it was; I turned round and stepped back in the shade, because I wanted to see whether it was her or not; I stayed two or three minutes, and after that the man got hold of her, and began to pull her up the street; then she ran down the street, and I saw who it was; I followed the man, caught hold of him, and said, "What do you do wish her; she belongs to me?" he said, "She has stolen my watch; "I said, "Good heavens! she could not do such a thing," and the man put his arm round my neck, and then the policeman came; I said to my fellow prisoner, "If you've got me into such a mess as this, do not say you belong to me."
Williams' Defence. I did not steal the man's watch; he wanted me to stay with him, and I said, "I must go home;" be took hold of me, and would not let me go; I managed to break away from him, and he ran after me; I did not know he had a watch.
Deeley received a good character, but police-constable N 44 stated that both the prisoners had been out of the way, on account of a summons for assault being taken out against Deeley.
DEELEY.— GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
WILLIAMS.— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude .
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY:—
226. FREDERICK NECKER (34) , Breaking and entering the Roman Catholic chapel, of St. Mary of the Angels, Paddington, with intent to steal.— Confined Six Months . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, January 31st, 1866.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
SAMUEL CLARK . I live at 22, John-street, Cannon-street, St. George's-inthe-East—on the morning of 7th January, I was in Holborn about 1 o'clock—the tallest prisoner seized me by the throat, and the other by the wrist—one of them kicked me on the knee—Kellard took 2s. 6d. out of my pocket, which I had safe about a quarter of an hour before—I knew what I was doing.
Kellard. Q. When you were at the station the inspector asked you to count the money, and you counted it, and said you had lost none. A. I did—none of the policemen told me to say I had lost the half-crown.
JOHN CHOWN (Police-inspector, E 5). I was in Holborn about a quarter past 1 on the morning of 7th January—I heard some one groaning, looked round the corner, and saw the two prisoners—I saw Kellard strike the prosecutor over the hat, and knock his hat over his eyes—O'Brien was holding him behind the arms—I then saw Kellard force the prosecutor against the shutters with his left hand, and lay hold of his throat with his right—I said, "you are robbing this man"—his right hand was in the prosecutor's pocket then—O'Brien was still holding the prosecutor's hands behind him—I took Kellard in custody, and directed another constable who was with me to take O'Brien—I took Kellard to the station, searched him, and found 2s. 6d., and 2d., a tobacco box, and a pair of white kid gloves—before the charge was made, Kellard said, "This half-crown is mine."
WILLTAM CHAMBERLY (Policeman, E 163). I was with the last witness turning the corner of Kingsgate-street—I heard a groaning, and saw Kellard strike Clark on the top of his hat, and knock it over his eyes, and O'Brien caught hold of both his hands, and Kellard knocked him against the shutters, and put his left hand in his pocket—I caught hold of O'Brien—he said, "Are you going to take me in custody for robbing that man?"—I said, "Yes"—he became very violent—another constable came to my assistance—I searched O'Brien, and found 2d. on him.
Kellard. Q. Was it half-past 1 when you apprehended O'Brient? A. It was a quarter past.
O'Brien's Defence. About a quarter past 1, on this Saturday night, I came up to the top of Kingsgate-street to have some coffee; we had some, and there was a row from Southampton-street; we went to see what was the matter, and saw a lot of men talking together; a policeman came up, and took me behind, and dragged me to the station; I never saw the prosecutor before I saw him at the station; the policeman said, "Have you lost anything?"—he said, "No, my money is all right; I have lost nothing"—the inspector asked him at the police court to count his money; he said his money was all right; he was then going out at the door; the sergeant ran after him and brought him back; the inspector said to the prosecutor, "Will you sign your name to this sheet?"—he said, "Yes"—he said he could not swear whether there was 2s. 6d.; I know nothing more about it; I hope I shall stand as innocent before Almighty God as I stand before you.—GUILTY of an assault, with, intent to rob. KELLARD—Confined Two Years. O'Brien was further charged with having been before convicted.
JAMES ACKRILL (Police-sergeant). I produce a certificate, (read: "Central Criminal Court, Daniel O'Brien, convicted, August, 1864, of robbery, with violence; confined One Year")—O'Brien is the person.— GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
229. EDWARD O'MARA (23) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John Ford Hallett., and stealing therein a watch and other articles, to the value of 67l. his property. (See page 131.)
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. SHARP the Defence. JOHN FORD HALLET. I keep the Hibernian stores, 6 and 7, Old Compton-street—my bedroom is on the second-floor—the entrance at the bottom of the staircase is protected by a gate six feet and a half high, and which has a tongue which rings a bell when the gate is opened—the key is kept inside the gate—there is also a spring—I went to my room about half-past twelve on that night—the first thing I noticed was that the table cover was gone—I opened my drawers and missed shirts, coats, and many other articles, to the extent of nearly 80l.—it was very wet that night
Cross-examined. Q. Is the gate on the second-floor inside the staircase? A. Yes—I do not know whether the other outside door was closed—anybody can go into the public-house below and then go up stairs—I know from my own knowledge that the gate was shut that night—I saw that it was shut when I went up into the room about seven in the evening, and I left it closed—that was the last time I saw it—some one picked up the things in a bundle.
EMMA SARAH HALLETT . I am the wife of John Ford Hallett—on the night of 16th November I went up to my bedroom at nine o'clock and found it safe—the gate at the foot of the staircase was then shut—I missed some shirts and waistcoats, and also a black table cover with red spots.
WILLIAM JEWELL . I live at 22, Denmark-street, and am an engine fitter—on the night of 16th November I was in Greek-street—I saw the prisoner and several others running from the direction of the prosecutor's house—when I first saw them they were six or seven doors off—the prisoner was carrying a bundle under his arm—they were on the opposide side—they turned round the corner of Church-street and I ran after them on the same side—Byford and Lucas halloed out, "There is some one corning" and the prisoner chucked the bundle in a doorway—I have seen him hanging about there and at Seven Dials—when I crossed over I passed close to them—the prisoner picked up the bundle and dropped some shirts and waistcoats—the articles were wrapped in a table cover with red spots on it—I went into Mr. Sharp's and gave him some information about what I saw—I saw Sergeant Cole two or three days after and gave him a description of the prisoners—the weather was very dry that night
Cross-examined. Q. Had you any conversation with Mr. or Mrs. Hallett before you gave your evidence at the police-court? A. Yes—I have been twice examined—I never said before the Magistrate that it was a black cover with red spots on it—I said on the first occasion when I was examined before the Magistrate that there were five or six men—I did not say on the second that there were twelve of them—after I gave my evidence it was read over to me and I signed it—I am out of employment now—I was employed as an engine fitter—used to blow the bellows—I was with Mr. clark, a revolving shutter maker—that was not as a bellows blower—I was at Mr. Knowles's before I went to Mr. Clark's—I have been with four or five masters besides those two—I am going on for twenty—I was discharged from Mr. Clark's through a quarrel with his foreman—Mr. Clark did not accuse me of stealing something—I was discharged from the service of Mr. Knowles—he did not charge me with dishonesty—he missed things—my sister was found in posession of certain things which belonged to my then master, Mr. Knowles, and I was living in the same place—I was not charged with stealing those things—I
was not before the Magistrat—my sister was merely remanded—Mr. Knowles discharged me because my sister was found selling the things—he was drunk when he discharged me—my sister was charged with stealing these things.
COURT. Q. What is your sister? A. She nurses children—she was the same then—she got into bad company—that is how she got in the possession of these things.
MR. SHARP. Q. When your sister was before the Magistrate did the prisoner appear as a witness in that case? A. No—I have not assisted Cole before—I have never played at skittles with the prisoner—I had not a quarrel with him—I have not been in his company—a man named Robinson came to my place and called me a b—y convicted thief—I did not say in Robinson's presence that what my master said of me was true—I was told at Malborough police-court that I was charged with stealing some copper and brass—I asked Mr. Knowles if he charged me with that, and he said, "No"—I did not say in Robinson's presence, addressing the prisoner's sister, that for twopence I would dash her head in—this was about seven minutes to eleven.
MR. LILLEY. Q. What was it that you really did say before the Magistrate as to the number of persons there were at the time you saw the bundle? A. I said there were five or six others—Lucas followed me home to see if I went in doors or not—at the time I was at Mr. Knowles, there was Mr. Knowles, his two sons, and me—one wheel and one axle-tree box were found at my sister's—they were kept in the shop.
CHARLES COLE (Police-sergeant, C 23). I received information from Jewell of the robbery at the Hibernian stores, on the morning of 22d November, or two or three days after—I forget exactly the date—he gave me a description of the prisoner—I never saw the prisoner from the time I received the information from Jewell till I took him into custody on Saturday night, 6th January—I had seen him on the night of 16th November at the Two Chairmen public-house in Wardour-street—I know the Barbican—that is about two miles and a quarter from Wardour-street—I have known Lucas and Byford many years.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not you say before that it was three days after that you received your information? A. It might have been three days after when I saw him—there was a reward for the discovery of these persons—it was not known that there would be a reward—I saw the prisoner on the night of the robbery after ten o'clock—I do not know where his father lives.
The deposition of ANN PROPERJOHN was here read as follows:—"I am in the service of the prosecutor—I was in my mistress's bedroom about eleven o'clock on the night of the robbery—her gold watch was on the dining table, and the earrings on the mantle piece—I put the earrings with the watch—everything was safe then."
MARY KELLY (continued). I was in the service of Mr. Hallett on 16th November—about half-past eleven that night I went up to my master's room—I found the drawers quite open with nothing in them—I could not find a scarf that my mistress sent me for, and came down and told her so—I went only to that drawer where my master's waistcoats were kept—that was quite empty.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you find the gate open or closed? A. Closed—
the barman went up before me—the cloth was on the table then; this was half-past eleven—I did not remain up there five minutes—it was about twenty-five minutes to twelve when I came down—I have no way of fixing the time—I know that Properjohn went up at eleven o'clock.—she wished me good-night, and master and mistress were done supper—my master generally has supper about eleven o'clock—she wished us good-night about eleven o'clock—she generally goes to bed about eleven—I took up the supper; I have directions to take it into the parlour at eleven—it was about eleven when I took it in, and I went up half an hour after.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, February 1st, 1866.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLINS the Defence.
WILLIAM MILLER (Policeman, G 148). I took the prisoner on 22d January, at 112, Golden-lane—he lives there—I said, "Cock, I am going to take you in custody for receiving goods from a boy named Peterson, who lives at Bolton-street, by order of Mr. Commissioner Kerr"—he said, "You do not mean Peterson, you mean Paterson"—I said, "No, I mean Peterson; you will have to go to Moor-lane police-station with me"—be wanted to know who was going to charge him—I said, "I cannot say; I have been looking after you some time"—he said, "I have been in the country ever since, and if you mean taking me I can lick you at this as well as I have licked you before"—I was present at the trial of Betts, Peterson, and Butler, on 19th December, and have since that been endeavouring night and day, to apprehend the prisoner—I have known him nine or ten years by the cognomen of Cock Ryan—he has always gone by that name—there are plenty of Ryans about there, but he is the only one who keeps a shop for this sort of business—there are a few things in the window, but I never see them do any business—I do not know that it is a "leaving shop."
Cross-examined. Q. Did you use the word Cock before the Magistrate? A. I believe I have mentioned it a dozen times—I had no warrant, I acted on the verbal instructions of Commissioner Kerr—on the trial Betts pleaded guilty and gave evidence—the other two were convicted principally on Betts' evidence.
GEORGE BETTS . (In custody.)On 19th December I pleaded guilty ot stealing goods from Messrs. Porter's—two boys named Butler and Peterson were tried on that day—I was in the employment of Mr. Jones, the traveller to Messrs. Porter and Co.—on 25th November I stole some samples from their warehouse—there were two parcels, they consisted of gloves, woollen shirts, shawls, hosiery, and socks—I went with those goods to Butler's house—I afterwards went with Butler and the boy Peterson to the prisoner's house in Golden-lane—Peterson went in first—I carried the parcels half-way, and Butler the other half—I afterwards went into the shop and saw the prisoner and his wife, and Peterson—I left the things and came out—after I had done that a little girl came to me—from what she said I went back to the shop—I saw the parcels open and on the floor—the prisoner asked me how I got them—I said that I was in the employ of Messrs. Porter, and"
stole them—the prisoner said that he should then know how to act—he looked at the goods and asked his wife whether he had better buy them—she said, "I don't think you better had"—the prisoner then went out of the shop—he returned shortly and said that he would buy them—the price was 4s. 6d. each for the shawls, 2s. each for the shirts, 5s. for the hosiery, 4d. a pair for the kid gloves, and 2s. 11d. for eleven pair of stockings—the sum he gave me for the lot was 3l. 5s. 9d.—I had 1l. as my share of the plunder, Henry Peterson had 1l. 5s. 9d., and Henry Butler had 1l.—I know the prisoner by the name of Cock Ryan.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you ever said that before? A. Yes—I believe I called him Ryan before the Magistrate—Peterson told me that it was Cock Ryan—I will not swear whether I pleaded guilty in consequence of what some gentleman had told me—I do not know whether it was before or after I pleaded guilty that a gentleman told me that if I gave evidence against Peterson and Butler I should get off—it was that if I pleaded guilty my punishment would be less—up to this time I am not sentenced—I do not know that I expect to get a lighter sentence—I expect to get some punishment—I am guilty of what I have done—I do not know whether it will be light or not—my mother told me that I should have less punishment if I spoke the truth—I know that the evidence I gave at the trial was to convict Peterson and Butler—I am turned fifteen years old.
HENRY PETERSON . (In custody.) I was tried in the other Court on 18th December with a boy named Butler, for receiving goods belonging to Porter and Co.—I was sentenced to eighteen months—I went on a Saturday at the latter end of November with Betts to a shop in Golden-lane, with two parcels of goods—we saw a man there, but no female, except a little girl—I have heard the man called Cock Ryan—I went in alone first—Betts and Butler were up one of the courts in Golden-lane—Betts afterwards came in and I received 3l. 5s. for the goods—there were no coppers, there was to be 3l. 5s. 9d. but I only received 3l. 5s.—there was not a woman in the shop—this is my signature to this deposition—it was read over to me before I signed it. (This being read, stated: "There was a woman in the shop when I went in.")—if I said so I meant the little girl.
Cross-examined. Q. Is the prisoner the man you then saw in the shop? A. No.
MR. PATER. Q. Had you been into the shop before at any time? A. Yes—I do not know this man as Cock Ryan—I have never said he resembles the man who is called Cockie Ryan—I said the man I sold the things to had no beard under his chin—I have known the man I sold them to three years, and I am sure this is not the man.
JURY. Q. Was it a man or a woman that gave you the money? A. The man—he put down 3l. 10s. and I gave him 5s. change—I was not in the habit of going to the shop, but I have been there before once—I am quite sure the prisoner is not the man—I never saw him before.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT—Thursday, February 1st, 1866.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq
—on the afternoon of 14th January, about a quarter to 4, I was in my shop, and saw the prisoner take a coat off my rail inside the shop—he ran away and I ran after him, but could not catch him—I did not lose sight of him—this is it (produced).
GUILTY .**—He was further charged with having been before convicted of felony at the Mansion House, in May, 1865; to which he PLEADED GUILTY .— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COOPER the Defence.
LOUIS EUGENE SCOURMECK . (Through an interpreter). I am a Frenchman—about 1st January I was steward on board an American ship, which came to the Victoria Dock—the male prisoner came to me and asked me if I wanted meat—the female prisoner asked if I wanted my clothes washed—I told them to come on board at 7 o'clock to fetch me away to go on shore with them—we all three dined together on board the ship—the next day, I went with the prisoner and his wife to the American Consul to receive some money—I received 54l. odd—there were about ten sovereigns, and the remainder in half-sovereigns—we dined together, and I paid for the dinner, as well as for a bottle of wine—after dinner we went for a walk, and the prisoner, his wife, and I went to a pawnbroker's to fetch a watch of the male prisoner's, which he had taken there—I redeemed it for him, having bought the ticket of it—I also bought a chain, but not from him—I cannot recollect whether I went to his house or not that night—he took me to a house where I am still lodging—the next morning we went out for a walk and called at several public-houses, and drank together—I have since been told by the landlord that I had my purse all right in the evening—the next morning when I awoke I had only 4l. remaining—my watch and chain, which were taken from me, were afterwards returned—I cannot recollect very well who took me to the lodging—I believe it was the female prisoner.
Cross-examined. Q. After you had lost your money, did you see the mother or daughter? A. I saw the mother—she brought my watch back—she said that her daughter had it in the evening, and she had brought it back to me—I slept at a lodging-house the first night I came on shore—I had 1l. in my pocket, but before I got my money I borrowed several sums of the male prisoner, which very likely amounted to something like 5l.—I was always in company with the women—the daughter and the other woman followed me about everywhere—two other women lodged in the same house with the prisoners, who went about with us—I was nearly drunk all the time after I left the ship till I awoke on that morning and missed my money—I think I paid 2l. for the pawn-ticket of the watch, and paid 2l. 10s. in the shop—there were three of us on the first occasion when we dined together in the ship—I gave Mrs. Mills 1l., and bought her a pair of boots for 6s.—I spent about 1l. at the shoemaker's—I lost my watch twice; the daughter took it out of my pocket once, and the
father the other time—it was brought back to me on both occasions—I went to the prisoner's lodging when I discovered my loss, and said, "If you knew where my watch was gone, you must know where my money is gone; you were in my company all the day"—they said they did not know anything about the money, and as to the watch, the daughter had brought it home to take care of it—my money was nearly all in half-sovereigns, and when the male prisoner was arrested, he had twenty-one half-sovereigns in his posession.
PRISCILLA MILLS . I am the wife of Alfred Mills, who keeps the Lion beer-house, Victoria Dock-road—I remember John Cotton coming to my house and asking me if I would undertake to let three gentlemen have what they might require, also to sleep till the steward got his money, which might be a day or two—I said I would—all three of them slept that night, Monday, in a double-bedded room—the prosecutor and two shipmates—on the Thursday evening following, the prosecutor was brought home the worse for liquor by John Cotton, who had said he would see my bill paid—the prosecutor took out the money and paid my bill, which was 1l. 10s.—I did not see what money there was in his hand—they then sat down together, and the prosecutor fell asleep with his head on the table—Cotton drew up his chair to the side of the table, and put his hand into the Frenchman's pocket—I said, "What are you doing there? I won't allow that in my house"—"Well, "he said, "You've got your money; he owes me money, and I shall keep this watch till I get it"—he took the watch—I asked him to leave it with me, but he said, "I shan't; it's no business of yours; you've got your money"—he did not say what the amount was which he had lent him—my husband came in, and said, "I must have my house closed; this gentleman must go to bed; I won't have him here"—Cotton said, "Oh, I think I can manage him best," and he took him up to bed, and as he always wanted something very early in the morning, my husband took him up a pint of beer, and put it in his bedroom—we all went to bed, and Cotton remained up in the bedroom with the prosecutor—during the night I heard some one knocking—my husband got up, and found it was the male prisoner, who wanted to go home—the next morning, the prosecutor came down to breakfast, and before he sat down asked about his watch—Mrs. Cotton brought it in—I afterwards saw John Cotton come into the house again to take the prosecutor out for a walk—they went out, and I did not see the prosecutor again until the evening (Friday)—he was then very much agitated, and made a complaint—I am not sure whether he was drunk or not.
Cross-examined. Q. On the Friday night when he came to your house, did you look out at the door and see any one come home with him? A. I did not see any one—I was in the bar and did not look out—he was the worse for liquor all the time he was with me—the male prisoner did not attempt to conceal his taking the watch—I never heard him say anything about his lending the prosecutor 6l.—I did not say anything to the Magistrate about 6l.—(The witness's deposition was here read, as follows: "He took the prosecutor's watch out of his pocket. I said, 'What are you doing that for?' He said he had not got his money; he had lent him 6l. and should keep it till he was paid")—I did not see Cotton take any money out of the prosecutor's pocket—I did not think he meant anything of that sort—I have known him for some time by sight—I keep a lodging-house as well as a beer-house—I don't know whether Cotton and the prosecutor lay down on the bed on the Thursday night with their clothes on—I did not
see them—we had another lodger at our house—he was sleeping with my son—he is now at work at the docks.
ALFRED MILLS . I am the husband of the last witness—I remember the prosecutor coming to lodge with me on 1st January, and remaining two or three nights—on Thursday, 4th January, he was in the parlour asleep with John Cotton when I was about to close the house—I said, "We must get him up to bed"—Cotton said, "I recommended him here, and I can take him up to bed"—he then went up stairs with him, and I followed with a pint of beer—they both got into bed with their clothes on—I closed the house, and went to bed—in the course of the night, I heard John Cotton at my bedroom door—I asked what he wanted, and he said he wished me to get up and let him out, because he wanted to go home—I let him out at the front door, and fastened it after him.
Cross-examined. Q. Why did he say he wanted to go? A. He said he could not stay any longer—the prosecutor was the worse for liquor that night—he had been drinking pretty well all the time he had been on shore—I am not certain whether they had any liquor in my house in the evening when they came home, because I was not in at the time—I have known Cotton by sight some years—I believe he is in the employ of a butcher—I understand he goes on board vessels of this kind to get what he can. NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
233. RICHARD WHITE (15), and THOMAS BINGHAM (15), Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Tipley, and stealing therein a quantity of sugar and raisins, value 1s. 6d. his property.
MR. WILLS conducted the Prosecution.
MARK MILLER (Policeman, R 114). About a quarter past 1 on the morning of 4th January, I was on duty in Beresford-square, Woolwich—I saw the prisoner White crawling beneath a cellar flap under a window—there were two other boys with him, sitting on the door-step—one of them was Bingham, the other escaped—I followed them into Powis-street, where they were stopped by Higgins—I searched White and found two pounds of raisins in his pocket.
COURT. Q. Is this flap open so that any one can get in? A. No.
SAMUEL HIGGINS (Policeman, R 171). On the morning of 4th January, about a quarter past 1, I was in Powis-street, and saw the prisoners running towards me—I stopped them—I asked them where they had been to at that hour in the morning—they said to Plumstead—I asked Bingham what he had got in his pocket—White replied, "Some raisins a lady gave him on Plumstead Common—Miller then came up and identified them—I searched Bingham and found on him a quantity of raisins and some sugar (produced).
RICHARD DICKENSON . I am in the service of Mr. Tipley, a grocer, at Woolwich—he has a cellar with a flap to it which comes out level with the ground—one flap comes down to the wall, and fastens into the other—the one level with the ground is fastened each side inside the cellar—I do not know that they can be opened from the outside, I never tried—I do not
think they can—I bolted the cellar-flaps on the night of the 3d—I never noticed anybody in the cellar when I went out that night.
The COURT considered that there was no evidence of Burglary.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. E. P. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
MARY MOULD . I am the wife of Henry Mould, 8, Clarence-place, Dept-ford, a greengrocer—I know the prisoner by sight—she came through my shop into my private room, and asked permission to go to the closet—she has been a customer several times—she had been drinking—she was not carrying a child—when she came from the yard, I noticed something very bulky under her shawl—she walked quickly out of the house—I called after her, but she would not stop—she seemed to know what she was about quite well—I went after her, stopped her forty or fifty yards from my house, told her she had got my boiler, and asked what she was doing with it—she began to abuse me—I insisted on her giving me the boiler and coming back to my shop—the boiler holds nearly a pail of water—she threw the boiler down in my shop—I asked her for the lid, and she told me to look for it till I could find it, and was very abusive—I afterwards found it amongst some sacks in the shop—I had not seen her put it there, but I saw her throw the boiler down when she came back—I saw the lid in her hand as she passed through my room projecting from her shawl—I gave her into custody.
Prisoner. Q. Do I owe you any money? A. No—I have not got the pawn ticket of your son's trousers—I do not know anything about it.
Prisoner's Defence. I went into Mrs. Mould's to ask her to lend me six-pence, and then I asked her if I might go into her back premises, and she said "Yes; "when I came out I bid her "Good night," and went to the butcher's, four or five doors up; she came after me and said, "You have got my copper boiler." I said, "I have not." I never went inside the shop again—I had my little boy with me.
PATRICK FOWLER (Policeman, R 294). I was called in by the prosecutor, and the prisoner was given into my charge—she was drunk—I told her I should take her in charge for stealing a pot—she became very outrageous, threw herself on the ground, and tore my face—she said she did not steal it—when locked up, she said she could do six months on her head for that thing. NOT GUILTY .
MR. WILLS conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS WOODBRIDGE . I am in the service of Mr. Urry, a pawnbroker, in Deptford—about 7 o'clock on Tuesday evening, 2d January, I missed these three woollen shirts (produced), which I had seen safe about half-past 5 or 6 o'clock, hanging inside the shop door, tied up by a piece of cord, which anybody with a pen-knife could cut, but not without coming into the shop first—on Thursday I missed these cord trousers (produced)—they were hanging outside the shop.
HENRY SOMERVILLE . I keep a second-hand clothes shop in Deptford—the prisoners came on 2d January, about 7 o'clock, with these shirts—O'Brien carried them—he asked me to buy them for 9s.—I offered him 6s.—he consulted with Crew, and then said he would take that, and I paid him
—on Thursday, the prisoners came again with these trousers—O'Brien carried them, and asked 6s. for them—I gave him 3s.
COURT. Q. How far is your place from the prosecutor's? A. About a quarter of a mile.
Crew. I do not know anything about one of these things; I went there to buy this guernsey. Witness. You did buy the guernsey of me at the same time—I am sure you came with O'Brien on both occasions—I keep a second-hand clothes-shop, but I often buy new things—I gave the money to O'Brien—I do not know exactly whether Crew bought the guernsey after or before I gave O'Brien the money—Crew paid me for it—it did not strike me as being at all odd that Crew should buy a guernsey after selling the flannel shirts.
JOSIAH TURNER (Policeman, R 207). On 4th January, I saw the prisoners, and told them I should take them for stealing three shirts from Mr. Urry the pawnbroker, in the New-cross-road—they said they knew nothing of it.
The prisoners statements before the Magistrate:—Crew says, "I was not present when the shirts were sold."O'Brien says, "I am guilty of selling them, but not of stealing them."
Crew's Defence. I do not know anything at all of the things; when I went to buy the guernsey I took a two-shilling piece; he wanted fifteen pence for it, and I gave him a shilling.
O' Brien's Defence. I am entirely innocent of this; he has bought these things of somebody; and he does not know who it is, and to get himself out of trouble, he has got us into it; before the Magistrate I did not know what I said, because they were all talking to me.
CREW.— NOT GUILTY . O'BRIEN.— GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted of felony at this Court, in September, 1863; to this he PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. SLEIGH the Defence.
EDWARD TOWNSEND (Police-inspector, R). On 7th January, I went, about 12 o'clock, to the prisoner's house, the Beresford Arms beers hop, in Beresford-street, Woolwich—I heard some hammering, went up stairs, and saw a carpenter mending the floor—I had some conversation with him, and in consequence of what he said, I sent down stairs for the landlord—he came up, and I said to him, "How do you account for having this wood?"—there was one plank which the carpenter bad nailed down to the floor, and he was endeavouring to make it fit with the use of his chisel—there was another plank in the room, about six feet long, covered with sand, similar to what is used in the sewer works outside his house—I said, "It is evident that this wood has come from the sewer works"—he made no reply—I sent a constable for the foreman, who was just outside, and at the same time I directed a search to be made of the lower part of the house to see if any more wood could be discovered—I am not quite certain whether the fore-man went into the cellar, but he saw a quantity of other wood brought out—I also went to the entrance of the cellar, while two of the workmen belonging to Messrs. Hill and Co. the contractors, brought out altogether twelve planks besides the two which I had seen up stairs; some of them an inch and a half thick, and from five to six feet long, just like scaffold boards—I then charged the prisoner with having stolen them—he did not say a
word, but trembled a good deal—I took him to the station, and locked him up—when the charge was read over to him he made no answer—after he had been locked up about an hour, the reserve man came to me, and said that Tyler would like to speak to me—I went to him, and he said, "Can you take bail for me?"—I said, "No; I can't; you are charged with felony"—he said, "I did not steal the wood; it was given to me by a man on the works"—I said, "By whom; was it the night watchman? I know they keep a man on there in the night"—he made no answer—I do not know that anything was said after that.
Cross-examined. Q. Who is there here to-day besides yourself, and Hart, and Lewis, as a witness in this matter? A. Margetson—he was called for at the examination before the Magistrate, but was not present—Thomas is the name of the reserve man who told me that Tyler wished to speak to me after he was locked up—he is not here—there was no other officer present at our interview, but there might have been other prisoners in the adjoining cell—there is nobody present to-day to corroborate my statement as to what took place between myself and the prisoner when he was locked up in the cell—I have given a perfectly accurate account of what occurred—I have no memorandum of it, except a few words not necessary—I believe I stated before the Magistrate all that occurred between me and this man—I think I told the Magistrate that the prisoner commenced the conversation by saying, "Can you take bail for me?" and that I replied, "No, it is a felony"—I told the Magistrate that the prisoner then said, "I did not steal the wood"—(The deposition being referred to did not contain any such conversation)—I also said that the prisoner stated to me that the wood had been given to him by a man on the works—the prisoner made no answer, as far as I could understand, when I asked him if it was the night watchman—I think I mentioned to the Magistrate with regard to that, that the prisoner muttered something which I did not understand, because he had a cold—whether that was written down or not by the clerk, I do not know—I think I told the Magistrate that in reply to my question whether it was the night watch-man—the prisoner said he did not know; or did not know the name, or something of that sort—I believe those are the very words I used—I did not know the object for which the prisoner wanted to see me, and, therefore, I did not think of providing a witness—what he said was perfectly voluntarily.
MARGETSON (Policeman, R 122). I went with Townsend to the Beres-ford Arms—I went into the cellar, and saw twelve planks, which I took to the station—the prisoner was not in the cellar at the time.
RICHARD THOMAS HART . I am a carpenter—I was mending the floor of one of the rooms in the Beresford Arms when the policeman came up and saw me—I was mending it with a piece of wood which I got from the prisoner, who also brought up another piece with which I began working—he did not tell me how he got the wood.
LEWIS. I live at St. James'-place, Plumstead, and am time-keeper for Messrs. Hill and Co. contractors for. the works at Woolwich—I saw the planks in the Woolwich police-court, and considered in my own mind that they were the property of my employers—the wood now produced is very similar to the timber we use for shoring—both of these pieces have been used, apparently, for what we call runners for the sewers—there were some stacks of timber opposite the prisoner's house.
Cross-examined. Q. Is the foreman of the works here? A. I believe he is, and he will give you an explanation as to the identity of the wood—this piece has been cut in two since I examined it at the police-court—they
showed me a piece about five feet long—a piece of nine inch deal which they showed me, I said had not been used for shoring up—I do not recollect saying, "We have similar wood to this at the works, but I cannot be sure that any of these planks are the property of my employers—yes, I did say so—none of the wood is branded—the planks we generally use in the works are twelve feet long—those which were shown to me, as having been found in the prisoner's house, were only six feet long—they would be too short for our purposes, but they might have been cut in half after they were stolen.
The prisoner received a good character. NOT GUILTY .
ROBERT WEBB (Policeman, P 6). On 20th January, about a quarter past 6 in the evening, I was on duty in Sydenham, and saw the prisoners in front of me—they both looked back, and then stopped and put something through a hedge into a gentleman's garden—as I went past, Bryant said, "Oh, he is all right, he is nobody"—I was in plain clothes—they walked half-a-dozen yards, and then stopped—I crossed over to the other side, and saw them go back to the spot, and search about in the hedge, apparently looking for what they had put away—Bryant went to the Greyhound public-house, and I saw him have some beer, and get some lucifers, he then went back to Sullivan, struck the lucifers just inside the hedge, they searched for a quarter of an hour, and Bryant then pulled two hares out of the garden—they walked sharply up Laura-park—I followed them till I met two other constables—I then stopped the prisoners, and asked Bryant how he became possessed of the hares—he said, "I bought them"—I said, "Where?"—he said, "I shall not tell you"—on the way to the station he said that he had sold half-a-dozen hares, and had those two left—he produced 5s. 7d. at the station, and the sergeant said that it was very little money if he had sold half-a-dozen hares—he said, "We are obliged to spend a great deal, and We want a little beer"—he then said that he had sold no hares, but half-a-dozen rabbits, and that he bought the hares in Billingsgate-market that morning, for 5s. 9d. of a Mr. Davies—I asked Sullivan when he saw Bryant—he said at 4 o'clock in the afternoon—I asked him if had the hares then—he said, "No,"—I found on Bryant two herrings, which the prosecutor said were bought at his shop.
Bryant. Q. Where were you when you saw me put the hares into the hedge? A. Just by the cab-rank, between thirty and forty yards from you—I saw you take two hares out—you went across to a butcher's and Sullivan waited outside—that was before you went to the Greyhound—I saw you in there by looking through the glass door—there is a flick in the hedge, where you pulled the hares through.
Sullivan. Q. Have you known me to be a hard-working man? A. Yes—I have known you eleven years, but I do not know much of you for the last three years, as I have been away.
JURY. Q. Were they both together when the hares were put into the hedge? A. Yes, and they both stooped together—it is about forty yards from Mr. Loveland's shop, to the hedge where the hares were put.
GEORGE BARBER (Policeman, P 287). I took Sullivan—he ran over towards a fence, and pulled a piece of cod out of his pocket—I asked him where he got it—he said, "I suppose he gave it to me, "referring to Bryant
—he was rather violent—I found 9s. 10d. on him—he said he had been in Bryant's company ever since 4 o'clock.
Sullivan. There is no fence; Bryant asked me to carry the meat he bought. Witness. You was carrying two breasts of mutton, which you said Bryant gave you—you were drunk.
HENRY MECKFORD (Policeman, P 133). I was with Webb and Barber when the prisoners were taken—when they were taken to the cells, I heard Bryant say to Sullivan, "You must stick to it that you saw me with the hares at 4 o'clock"—Sullivan said, "No, I can't do so, I know nothing about it."
Bryant. Q. I never opened my mouth to such an effect; the door was closed when I was put in, and the trap was instantly shut up; it is false.
Witness. The trap was shut, but I could hear through the door.
WILLIAM LOVELAND . I am a fishmonger and poulterer of Central Sydenham—on 20th December, about half-past 5 o'clock, Bryant came and purchased two herrings—I had come hares hanging inside, and half a cod-fish on a slate underneath them—I had only two hares—I did not see Sullivan—after Bryant went out I missed the fish—it was produced before the Magistrate, and I swore to it—I saw it the same evening—I missed the hares about half or three-quarters of an hour after the fish—they were worth 5s. each, and the fish 5s.—it is impossible to identify the hares, those found are very much like those I lost, in size and all.
Bryant. Q. When I went into the shop, was there anybody at the door? A. No—my boy was in the shop—I gave him change out of a shilling, and he gave you 9d.—you first gave him a florin—he came to me in the next room, then went next door, and got change for the shilling—he laid 9d. on the counter—I did not pull sixpence out of my waistcoat and threepence in halfpence from my trousers' pocket—the boy is not here.
COURT. Q. Had Bryant a great coat on? A. No, he was dressed as he is now—I had not change for the florin, and the boy went to the grocer's for change for a shilling—I went back into the room, and Bryant was left alone—when I said I had not got change, he said, "I have a shilling."
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate:—Bryant says, "I bought half a dozen rabbits for 6s. a cod-fish for 1s. 9d. and I paid 5s. 9d. for the hares at Billingsgate-market; I had the rabbits, hares, and fish in my possession until a few minutes past 7, when the constable took me."Sullivan says, "I am innocent."
Bryant's Defence. I bought the things at Billingsgate-market; I had the fish in my posession at the time I sold the rabbits; I sold the hares to a fellow-workman at the Fox-and-Hounds, Sydenham; I had 15s. 6d. given me to set up, to get my living, and I laid it out as I best could.
Sullivan's Defence. I went into the Fox and Hounds, and stopped there some time; I was the worse for drink, and do not know when I left; Bryant came in with two hares, and told me he had been selling some rabbits, and had a piece of fish in his coat pocket he said he was going my way, and asked me to hold them while he went to the butcher's—he brought two breasts of mutton in a piece of paper, and said, "Carry this for me, as I am going part of the way your road; "I took the mutton and the fish; a policeman took me, and I said that Bryant gave them to me; I worked for Mr. Lucas, at Norwood, and was the head of a gang of workmen there; if you will send a policeman there, you will hear my character.
BRYANT— GUILTY .**— Confined Twelve Months . SULLIVAN— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Willes.
238. ALBERT WILLIAM SHATTELL (27) , unlawfully and malicously setting fire to certain shavings within a building, with intent to injure; and under such circumstances that if the same had been burnt, he would have been guilty of felony. MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES SMITH . I live at 10, Amelia-road, Spa-road, Bermondsey—I am an extra fireman, employed by different insurance offices—on 16th January, about 2 o'clock in the morning, a fire took place at Rotherithe—in the discharge of my duty, I went there to put it out—it was at Levi's bag factory, which is 100 or 200 yards from the fire in question—as I turned from that fire, I had got into Church-street, Rotherhithe, and heard three men talking at the bottom of the street—they were standing in the road—it was about 5 o'clock in the morning—it was dark—there is a wooden fence there about six feet high, with a kind of shed five or six feet from it—I asked the men to give me a lift up, which they did, and when I was on the top of the fence, I saw a small flame in the shed, and some sparks, and a great deal of smoke—I took it for a stable at first, having passed it many mornings from the tunnel, and I thought it was some straw on fire, and called out, "Is there any one there?" or "Who is there?" thinking somebody might be getting a pony out—I had no answer, and jumped down, told the men it was a job, and ran back to the other fire for assistance—I called the attention of the Fire Brigade to it—I returned to the shed with an officer of the Fire Brigade, and more men—the officer went up to the gate, and I heard Crossly call out, "We have got him"—MR. Metcalfe, the engineer of the firemen, wrenched off the lock of the gate with an axe, and admitted us—I then found the prisoner in custody—the dock man called my attention to a piece of tarpauling which he said he pulled on one side, and saw the prisoner through—MR. Metcalfe and the two men went in first, I followed them—the dock man and the prisoner were in there—there was a small portion of fire at the feet of Crossly and the prisoner—there was one fire, but there had been a fire in two places, about six feet apart—the fire which was out, appeared to be recent.
COURT. Q. How many fires were there? A. One was burning, and the other not—it appeared to be chips of pieces of wood that were burning—it was not an empty place, it was a shed that seemed to be used as a work-shop—I did not take a survey of the place, it was not my duty—the fire was very small indeed; it was about eighteen inches over—we had nothing but a lantern that was lent to Mr. Metcalfe—the shed has sides, but I do not know what it is composed of—the fire was very close to the sides—the place that was extinguished was on the same side as the other, and as close to the side of the shed.
JOHN CROSSLY . I am dock gateman at the Surrey Docks, and live in Allen-street, Rotherhithe—on the morning of 16th January I was coming from the fire at Rotherithe—in going down Church-street we passed a boat-builder's shed, where I noticed a great smoke—one of my mates, a dock gateman, was with me, and another came up—James Smith then came up—I heard him shout, but heard no answer to it—I was lifted up by one of my mates, and sang out, "Any one alive there"—I waited for a second, and there was no answer—I said, "I can hear some one," and jumped over on top of some casks—I then heard some one say, "Don't make a d—d noise, I will have it out directly"—I felt along till I came to an opening in two tarpaulings—I lifted them up and said, "What, are you going to burn us out altogether?" the prisoner answered, "I suppose it is the sparks from the other fire"—I said, "It is impossible, in the way the wind is, for the
wind is in a contrary point"—the other fire was 200 yards off—I sang out to my mate to look out—I said, "I have got one, call the police, and break the place open as soon as possible"—I held the prisoner till the others came up, and gave him in custody—the fires were five or six feet apart, and were under a form—the tarpauling hung down close to the form—one of the legs of the form was burnt—the prisoner was beating the fires out when I went in.
COURT. Q. What sort of a form? A. One on which they work—it was two or three feet wide, and the fire was under the legs of it—it appears that the tarpauling is turned up in the day-light, and let down in the gas-light—when I opened the tarpauling there were two distinct fires, and he was running from one to the other, putting them out—I did not see or hear anybody else in the neighbourhood of the shed.
MR. WOOD. Q. When was the first intimation you had of anybody being inside? A. When I sang out, "Is anybody alive there"—it was all quiet then, but I laid and listened on the pales and said, "I can hear somebody"—I heard some one in the shed, and jumped down and went there.
Prisoner. Q. When you jumped over, did I attempt to escape? A. No—I am quite sure there were two fires burning—you had not put one out before I came in.
MR. WOOD. Q. Did you see any mark of raking on the ground as if he had raked out the other? A. No, they were distinct fires, and it was about eighteen inches across.
WILLIAM MOORE (Police-inspector, R). I am stationed at Botherhithe—on 16th January, at 5 in the morning, Smith called my attention to a fire in Church-street, Rotherhithe—I was then in the neighbourhood of the other fire—I have measured the distance between the two fires, it is 200 yards—the building is a shed, one side composed entirely of wood, and the other of brickwork—it is wood half-way round, length ways—it has a tile roof, and is in the occupation of Messrs. Shattell and Ward, boat-builders—I found the prisoner in Crossly's custody—the building is attached to a stable—there is a stable at one end, and a house at the other—it is about 150 yards from the river—the adjoining house was inhabited—I said, "What right have you here at this hour in the morning?"—he said, "I was just returning from the fire, and the premises where I stand belong to my uncle, Mr. Shattell; I saw smoke issuing from the shed, and came over the fence to put the fire out"—I said, "Are you and your uncle on friendly terms?"—he said, "I believe so"—I said, "Do not you and your uncle have some angry words some time since, and were you not discharged from his employment in consequence?"—he said, "Yes"—I asked him where he lived—he said, "In Adam-street, Rotherhithe"—I said, "This is not your way home, you might have gone home in a quarter of the time"—he said, "I sometimes go one way, and sometimes another"—it is very nearly 500 yards out of his way—there was a form about six feet from the side of the shed—the fire was half-way between the form and the wood—the form was immediately over the two fires—a gas-metre is attached to the brick wall, seven or eight feet from the form or more—I asked the prisoner if he had any matches—he produced one match from his pocket, and I found a pipe on him—he did not say that he had used it—I measured the distance between the two fires, it was six feet five inches—I examined the shed to see if there were any apertures, and there was no place through which sparks could have come.
COURT. Q. How far was the form from the tarpauling? A. Touching
it when I saw it—the tarpauling was between the brick side and the wood side, hanging from the tiles—there are no openings in the boards on the wooden side of the shed—I got in by the door being broken open—people go in at the door-way in the wood, which accounts for the tarpauling being put further in—the gas was turned off at 6.
Prisoner. I did not say that I had no lucifers; I said that I might have one, and took my pipe out of my pocket and found one. Witness. You said you had none.
MR. WOOD Q. Was the tarpauling new or old? A. Old; it is inflammable I should think.
COURT to JOHN CROSSLY. Q., Can yon tell how far the form was from the side of the shed when you first saw it? A. I cannot say exactly, but pretty close—I think Mr. Ward is here who belongs to the place—I should think it was not more than three or four feet from the side when I saw it, because it was against the legs of the bench.
THOMAS WARD . I am a boat-builder in partnership with William Shattell, at 1, Bedford-place, Tower-road, Rotherhithe—he is the prisoner's uncle—the shed is inclosed with pailing half round it, seven feet three inches high; it is our property—there are places where it would not be difficult for a person knowing them to get over—I was the last person in the shed on the Saturday morning at 9 o'clock—the 16th was the Tuesday following—there was nearly three days interval—I looked it up when I left it, and it was quite safe—from information I received, I went to the premises and found two places where there had been fires—it was then 1 o'clock in the day—the roof is tiled—if the wind was that way, it might move the tarpauling which is put against the door to keep the wind out, but if the tarpauling was there sparks from the other fire could not get beyond it—the prisoner worked in the establishment for three years—he was discharged by my brother George six months ago, and he has not worked there since—I have seen him twice since and have spoken to him, once when he came in to take his tools—it was on the Monday after he was discharged on the Satur-day—that is six months ago.
Prisoner. Q. Have you had anything done to the tiles since the late fire? A. No—that is nearly a twelvemonth ago—it had nothing to do with the fire which took place on 16th—no sparks could drop through the tiles to my knowledge—if the wind blows from the house, nothing can go through—I do not know whether on the former occasion sparks actually got into the shed—my brother is not here—I cannot say whether you told him that you had to throw the fire out as fast as it came through the tiles.
COURT. Q. Could persons go into the shed without the key? A. No—I looked it up—I did not find the key in the shed when I went to it—I did not go into the yard between the Saturday morning and the Tuesday evening—there was nobody else in the yard—the door was broken by violence I understand—person can get over the pailings—the work-shop was not shut up, but only the gate; any person could get into it who got into the yard—he would only have to get into the yard, push the tarpauling, and go in—the prisoner was not discharged for any misconduct, it was through slackness of work, and words with one of the apprentices.
MR. WOOD. Q. You have been asked about a fire twelve months ago, can you say what state the roof of the shed was in? A. It was tiled all over, so that nothing could come in through the roof, unless the wind blew it under the tiles.
known the prisoner nine months, and have known his landlady for years—I was in the prisoner's company on the Monday evening before the fire—at half-past 6 or 7 o'clock we met at his landlady's house—we both went to the door together—he asked me if I would have a glass of ale—I said, "I do not mind," and we crossed the road and had a pot of ale—I asked him the reason he was not working for his uncle—he said, "Did not you hear I had a month's imprisonment"—I said, "No, what for?"—he said, "I chucked a mallet at one of my fellow workmen, and had a month for it"—he said that his uncle's place had been very nearly burnt to the ground, and he hoped that between then and Wednesday it would be burnt again—I said, "That is very shocking"—I bade him good night, and left him at a quarter to 8—I saw him no more till I was subpoened at Greenwich.
Prisoner. Q. There is hardly a thing you have said which is the truth; who was in company with us? A. Nobody—MR. Fisher stood by about three yards from us—we were all three together, but he stood away, and we stood talking privately—you asked me for the ale—I was outside the house first, I believe—you did not run out to get out of the way because I was in drink—we all went out together—I was made to come here, I did not want to come—I have no animosity against you.
COURT. Q. How do you get your living? A. I have been living with a shipwright fourteen years; we live very comfortably together—he keeps me—I have never had a quarrel or angry word with the prisoner, and did not want to go against him; but I was subpoened—I said to a dock man, "Well, he did threaten to do it, "and that was the cause of my being subpoened—I did not tell the police of it—I did not know there was anything against him, and I am very sorry he is here.
Prisoner. You wanted to swear that you were with me all night—did not you say, "Hold your tongue you b—y fool; if you like I will swear I was there all the time?" A. It is false—I only told you that your young woman said she would get Counsel for you—you were remanded for a week that they might summons me—it is a case I don't like to be in.
Prisoner's Defence. On the night in question, about half-past five, I was leaving off work and the foreman asked me if I would mind turning out to take a barge out and bring another barge in. I had my tea, and me and my mate went to another mate's house, we sat there till a quarter-past eleven; the bridge was open, which delayed me a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes. I went and did the work; I will not say whether it had gone two at the time I had done it. I saw the reflection of a fire at Lewis's place. After that, as it was close on five o'clock, I would not go to bed or I should not have been up at six. I thought I would take a gentle walk and get a cup of coffee. I saw smoke coming over the prosecutor's pailings, looked through a crack, and walked round to the gate to see if anybody was there. I got over and there was only one fire burning; I got a bit of stick to beat it out, and was doing so when this man came. I said, "Do not trouble me, it will be out presently, "or, "Do not make a row, I shall soon have it out. "I kept on raking the fire by rubbing it over with sawdust, and sent some to the other place, but I ran up and put it out; he said, "Look out, round the fence!" I said, "I do not want to escape. "They asked me what business I had there; I told them it was my uncle's premises. I jumped over to put the fire out; I had no bad intention. What that woman says is false, but it is true we had the ale together.
GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant
THOMAS BROWN . I live at 3, Lant-court, High-street, Borough—on Saturday evening, 21st October, between seven and eight o'clock I was going up Lant-street, when French, who has been convicted, came up to me and said; "Well, old boy, how are you?"—I said, "I have no knowledge of you "—I had 7s. in my pocket which I took out and held in my right hand—he tried to get them out—I halloed out, "Thieves!" as loud as I could—I cannot say how many other men there were; there were three or four—two shillings dropped but they were afterwards found—I was quite sober.
ROBERT BRISKLAYER (Policeman, M 157). On 21st October I was in Lant-street, and saw the prosecutor there, followed by the prisoner French, Hill, and another man who I don't know—I saw them attack him and he called, "Police!"—I was in plain clothes—I ran up and caught Hill's arm round the prosecutor's throat; he has been convicted—I saw the prisoner among them in a stooping position, as if he had hold of the prosecutor's legs, with his hand near his chest—I saw his face distinctly as he passed the doctor's shop at the corner of Lant-street—I have known him five years—Hill dropped some money—the prisoner ran away—I met him again on 6th December, I was about fifty yards from him—he stopped and looked me steadfastly in the face and then ran away—I found him but could not catch him—I saw him again in Mint-street on 6th January, and he again ran away; I afterwards met him again, and said, "Antill, I have had a good many runs after you, but I shall not have any more, I want you for a garotte robbery in Lant-street"—he said, "Not me, Mr. Brisklayer"—I said, "I am sorry to say it is you; I had such a good view of you on the way down"—he said, "I cannot help it."
GEORGE HOLMES (Police-sergeant). I am employed by the South-Eastern Railway—on 21st October, about quarter to eight, I saw Brisklayer in Blackman-street—I saw six men following the prosecutor—I am not sure whether the prisoner is one—Hill and French were apprehended on the spot, and I believe the prisoner to be one of the other two—we saw the four attack the old gentleman—I saw the one I believe to be the prisoner, in a crouching position, but I did not see his face, I saw his dress—I knew him before and know that he used to wear a dress of that description.
Prisoner's Defence. I was at Woolwich, twelve miles away, at the time the robbery was done; they must have taken somebody else to be me. GUILTY .**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
ROBERT FISHER . I am a photographic artist, of Lancaster-road, Nottinghill—in November, 1865, I was in business as a photographer at Richmond—I let the premises of which I was the tenant, to the prisoner in November, with the use of all the appliances, apparatus, and furniture at 7s. a-week—there was no written agreement—he occupied the place two or three weeks, and I then received a letter from him—I went to Richmond two or three days afterwards and found the place deserted, and the goods in question
removed—I returned to town, ascertained where the prisoner lived, went there and saw his wife but failed to see him at all—finding I could get no redress I took a warrant out for his apprehension—part of my apparatus has been produced by a pawnbroker, and part has been brought to me by the prisoner during one of his remands—he has never given me any explanation in conversation.
Prisoner. This (produced) is his receipt for six weeks' rent given him to save him from bankruptcy—he told me I might have the place to work there, and he lent me the apparatus—he owed me a quarter's rent—Witness. There was a quarter due on Christmas Day—I only took it in September—that receipt is in my writing—you were not in my employment at Richmond at 2l. 2s. a-week, nor were we afterwards partners; never—when I found it did not answer I did not say, "You may as well have the things as my creditors—an execution was not about being put in—I should have been prepared to pay the rent if I was asked; I have not yet been asked—I did not ask you to be a brother to me in my difficultics, and say that I wished to make all my things over to you.
HENRY PHILLIPS . I am assistant to Mr. Stevens, a pawnbroker, of 35, Brewer-street, Golden-square—I produce a pawn ticket of two drawings, pawned by the prisoner's wife, for 7s. 6d. each on 23d December, which Mr. Fisher identified.
JAMES ALDONS . I am a pawnbroker, of 67, Berwick-street, Soho—I produce two tickets, representing a camera and lens, pledged in the name of Wilson by a female on 2d and 20th December, for 1l. 11s. altogether.
JAMES TOMLIN (Policeman, V 161). On 5th January I took the prisoner at his lodging—I told him he was charged with stealing photographic apparatus and several other articles, the property of Robert Fisher—he said he knew where the things were, and when he had his 4l. returned he should return the articles—he produced four pawn tickets before the Magistrate and said that he was a partner with Mr. Fisher, but the business not being profitable he made it over to him at 7s. a-week, and as he had no apparatus to work with he lent him his, as he might as well keep it as let the creditors have it. Witness for the Defence.
ARTHUR BROOKS . I am the prisoner's brother and am a photographer—he came to me and asked me if I had got 16l. to speculate with, as Mr. Fisher was to be bankrupt, and I could have all his furniture made over to me for 16l.—I said I would have nothing to do with such a dirty action—I saw Mr. Fisher last week at Richmond—he said, "I lent your brother these things when I was going through the Bankruptcy Court; he held them for the 4l. wage, as he had been a fortnight without receiving money; I will pay him when I get out of my difficulties"—the prisoner's wife said, "Well Mr. Fisher, if you will pay my husband the 4l. I will return everything that belongs to you, because we are out of work; we are badly off and my husband was working without wages"—the prisoner had to take a return ticket every day at 1s. 6d. backwards and forwards—it was his intention to return, he had the key; he only went away because the noise was so great; the furniture was not removed, only the apparatus—he took that away while the creditors were making a noise.
Prisoner's Defence. I took it to take portraits with in the mean time. This was an unfurnished room at Twickenham; there was only a table to work with, nothing more. He said, "If you will say nothing about the bankruptcy I will get you through the case. NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution. JOHN GARDNER. I am one of the principal clerks in the Post-office, the prisoner was a letter-carrier, employed in the south-eastern district office, Borough—in consequence of a communication made to me I made up a letter, in which I enclosed 44 postage-stamps, and a half sovereign—I marked each stamp, fastened up the letter and addressed it, "MR. Bendy, oil and colour merchant, 154, Snows-fields, Bermondsey"—If fastened it up and gave it to Mr. Willis Clare, the inspector of letter-carriers, to post—on the same day, at half-past four o'clock, I went to the south-eastern district office, High-street, Borough—the prisoner was brought into a private room there, and I said, "A letter, containing money and postage-stamps, addressed to Mr. Bendy, 154, Snows-fields, which should have been delivered by you to-day about one o'clock, is missing; do you know anything about it?" he replied that he did not—I then directed Rumbold to search him, and he produced from his pocket a purse containing 7s. and forty-four penny-stamps in one sheet—I took them in my hand and said, "Where did you get these postage-stamps from?"—he said, "I have had them for a week, they were sent to my wife from the country"—I said, "By whom?"—he replied, "By my father"—I asked him what his father was and where he lived—he said, "James Colby, Bletchington, Oxford"—each of the stamps had my private mark on it—I said, "These stamps were enclosed in the letter addressed to Mr. Bendy, and were in that letter to-day between twelve and one o'clock, where did you get them from?"—he said, "I have not had a letter for Mr. Bendy to-day"—I said, "The letter is known to have been in your posession when you left the office for your twelve o'clock delivery, what did you do with the half sovereign?"—he said, "What half sovereign?" I said, "The half sovereign which was enclosed in the letter with these postage-stamps"—he said, "I have not seen it."
Prisoner. I had no letter for Mr. Bendy at all that day, and after Mr. Gardiner took the stamps from me he took something out of his pocket and marked them. Witness. No; I applied solution to them to make the marks visible.
WILLIS CLARE . I am inspector of letter-carriers at the General postoffice—on 23d January Mr. Gardiner gave me a letter addressed to Mr. Bendy—I posted it at the south-eastern district office, Borough, about twelve o'clock, in time for the twelve o'clock delivery—I called the attention of Mr. Roberts the inspector at that office to it.
JONATHAN ROBERTS . I am inspector of letter-carriers at the southeastern district office—MR. Clare called my attention to a letter addressed to Mr. Bendy, on 23d January, which I found with the others in the box—I took it to my desk, put the twelve o'clock stamp on it and gave it to Mr. Vincent.
GEORGE EDWIN VINCENT . I am superintending sorter at the southeastern district office—MR. Roberts called my attention to a letter addressed to Mr. Bendy and gave it to me—I placed it with some others on the desk before the prisoner with his other letters at twenty-five minutes past twelve—it was his duty to lay them in rotation for delivery, and then take them out and deliver them—he went out at twenty minutes to one, the letter addressed to Mr. Bendy was in his delivery—he would have completed his delivery about two o'clock—he had a collection at four.
Prisoner. You could not have placed the letter in my hand at twentyfive minutes past twelve because the bags were not despatched at that time—Witness. Yes they were; they were rather earlier that day.
HENRY RUMBOLD . I am a constable, attached to the post-office—on 23d January I went to the south-eastern district office, took the prisoner into a private room where Mr. Gardiner was, searched him and found these stamps, which Mr. Gardiner identified, and 7s. in a purse in his trousers pocket—I took him in custody.
HENRY BENDY . I am an oil and colour merchant, of 154, Snows-fields—I had an intimation that this letter was coming to me, but it did not come—the prisoner did not call on me that day—my attention was particularly called to the day.
Prisoner's Defence. I had no letter for Mr. Bendy whatever, and the postage stamps I had in my pocket were my own.
GUILTY —. Five Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. THOMPSON the Defence.
JOHN CLAY . I lived as butler to Mr. Francis Martin, of Tudor Lodge, Wimbledon-common—on Monday night, 9th October, I left the pantry safe before I went to bed—I went to bed at twenty minutes past 10—nothing disturbed me—I came down the following morning at twenty minutes past 6—the pantry was in confusion—I missed two silver tea-pots, a coffee-pot, a silver sugar-basin, a pair of sugar tongs, a silver and a plated skewer, and a silver spoon—the pantry window is secured with a latch, and has iron bars outside—it opens inwards, like a door; it does not throw up with a sash—I found the two centre bars wrenched, and one taken out—they were opened quite wide enough for a man to pass in—the glass appears to have been cut with a diamond, and then broken—a piece of brown paper was on the floor with a quantity of treacle on it—John Shaw was taken up and tried for the burglary at the December Sessions—a painter's knife and file, and a copy of the Times were found in the pantry—outside the window there was a piece of rope and a piece of baize, to prevent a noise, also a small jemmy (produced)—I was not present when they were found—the value of the property taken is 60l.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the burglary committed on a Monday night? A. Yes—it was on the following Thursday evening that Shaw came, and he was taken in custody that night—Shaw conducted his own defence at the last trial and cross-examined me rather severely—he tried to cast some blame on me.
MR. DALEY. Q. Did Shaw impute anything about the robbery to you? A. No.
WILLIAM LOVELACE (Police-inspector, V). On Tuesday morning, at 10 o'clock, I went to Tudor Lodge, and found it in great confusion—there were the remains of five candles on the floor—this knife was lying under the table, and the plate-cupboard had been cut open without touching the lock—I found this knife on a shelf in the drawer—I found this rope outside the window—two of the upright bars were very much bent, and one bar was missing—there is no doubt that the rope had been put round two or more bars, and a stick inserted between, so as to give leverage to pull the bars apart—the glass was cut by a diamond, I should say, and was lying inside the pantry on some paper which I tasted, and found it had treacle on it—I found this jemmy in the boot-house.
from him, and from information, I went to a shrubbery at Mr. Martin's, and found a black leather bag concealed among the shrubs, containing this coffeepot, sugar-basin, tea-pot, and cruet—I knew nothing about their being there till Shaw spoke to me—I also, in consequence of what he said, searched for the prisoner—he was brought to the station on the 5th, and I told him he was charged with being concerned with John Shaw, undergoing sentence of seven years for burglary, with breaking into the house of Mr. Martin, Tudor Lodge, Wimbledon, on 9th October—he said, "I am quite innocent; I know nothing about it"—he said that he had received a letter from Shaw, wishing him to go and see him, but he did not go, as he did not get the letter till he came out of prison—he had been in prison for something—he said that he did not remember whether he was in his own house or not on the night of November 9th, but he knew he was at work at 6 the next morning, the 10th—I ascertained his lodging, but not from him—I went there, it was 9, Acorn-street, Camberwell, and found a coat, a slouch hat, a purse, and 11s. 6d.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you find these silver articles in the shrubbery? A. On 23d December, the Saturday after Shaw was sentenced—they had remained there, I suppose, from 9th or 10th October—the prisoner did tell me his address, but I knew it before—I believe the clothes I found there to be his.
CHARLES MILLS . I live at 1, King-street Battersea, and was porter at the railway-station at this time—on Friday evening, October 6th, two persons called and left this bag with me—the same two men fetched it away on Monday the 9th—the prisoner is the man who left it—I could not recollect him at first, but when I saw the two men together, I recollected him.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you been talking with the policeman about the matter since you were examined before the Magistrate? A. No—the first time I went before the Magistrate I said, "A black bag very much like this was left in my care by a man; I do not recognise the party"—I have not left the Company's service, I have only changed stations—I had seen them before at Mr. Clipson's in Putney—a policeman came to me in Wandsworth signal-box, and asked me if I recollected the bag—why I had such good cause to recollect it was that my wife died and I was at home.
MR. DALEY. Q. Where did you see the prisoner when you recognised him as the man? A. Standing alone in the dock at Wandsworth police-court, I did not know him; but afterwards, when I saw the two together, I recognised him.
JURY. Q. When did the men come for the bag? A. On the 9th, the night of the burglary—there was something in it, I cannot say what—it was not so much as these four articles—this is the bag—we sometimes have 100 bags a week, in rifle time.
WILLIAM KING (Policeman, V 56). On Tuesday morning, 10th October, about half-past 4, I was on duty in Wandsworth-road, and Shaw passed me—the prisoner was walking behind him, with another man—they went in a direction from Tudor Lodge towards Clapham Junction—they were about two miles from Tudor Lodge—Shaw had two bundles, and the prisoner one under his right arm, which were all wrapped in white cloths—the prisoner wore a dark coat, the same colour as this, and an old slouched hat—I called it a light coat, but it was dark—on 5th January, I saw the prisoner at Wandsworth police-station, and recognized him—he was not dressed as he was before.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you give any other description of him? A. He had a dark moustache, and a tuft on his chin, but when I saw him at
Wandsworth that was shaved off—he was in company with a labouring man—I was not asked at the last trial to give a description of Morris—I said at the police-court that he had a dark coat, and a light slouched hat—I said that I saw two very rough-looking men following them; the prisoner is one of them—I did not know either Shaw or Morris before—I may have told Shaw when he cross-examined me, that I thought he looked a very suspicious fellow—I did not think it my duty to stop either of the two rough-looking men on a road like that where there are hundreds passing going to their work—it was from half-past 4 to 5 o'clock.
MR. DALEY. Q. Working people? A. Yes—this was two hundred yards from the railway-station—there are workmen's trains in the morning.
THOMAS NEWBY (Police-sergeant, V 2). On 5th January, I saw the prisoner outside the Elephant and Castle, Newington, and said, "Morris, I want you"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "For being concerned with a man named Shaw, who is undergoing penal servitude for seven years, in committing a burglary at Tudor Lodge, Wandsworth"—he said, "I know nothing whatever about it, I assure you; I know Shaw, and I heard that he had got seven years; the last time I saw Shaw was in the prison van; I worked with him at Lowndes-square, Pimlico, some time ago—he said, when in the van, 'What are you here for?'—I said, 'For assaulting a woman'—he said, "I am in for the burglary; you can do me a good turn if you will when you come up, will it be best for my mother to come and see you, or for you to go and see my mother"—I was sentenced to a months' imprisonment for the assault, and when I came out, a letter had been received from Shaw by my mother for me, but she advised me to have nothing whatever to do with him—she tore the letter up, and put it in the fire"—I conveyed him to Wandsworth, and handed him over to Micklejohn.
Cross-examined. Q. When did this conversation take place? A. At the spot where I stopped him—I am quite sure he said that Shaw said, "I am in for the burglary;" not "for A. burglary," and I said so in my depositions.
JAMES WARD . I am a painter, of 54, Palmerston-street, Battersea—the prisoner is a painter—I worked with him in September—this is the cap he used to wear—he is a companion of Shaw—they were together at the time they were taken on at the work in September—that continued about a fortnight.
JOHN COLLINS (Police-sergeant, V 24). I conveyed Shaw from Wandsworth police-court in the van on several occasions—the last time was 17th November, when he was committed for trial—on each side of the van there is a row of boxes with doors, and a small door half-way up the big door for ventilation, and to let us see how they are getting on—there is a bar across, which is sometimes up, and sometimes down, according to the state of the weather—as Morris got into the van, Shaw's door was a little open; the small door—Shaw recognized him the instant he came into the van, and said, "Halloa, what are you here for?"—Morris said for an assault, or words to that effect, and asked Shaw what he was there for—I believe Shaw said, "Oh, they charge me with burglary," and laughed—I am positive it was not"the burglary"—Shaw said, "Whatever you do, when your job is over, you come and see me; mand I think he said, "You can do me a good turn"—Morris said that he would—I took Morris next day to the House of Correction for a month, and on the way he told me that Shaw had requested him to come and see him, but he had had one night in Horsemonger-lane, and that was enough, he should not
do so—he said that he knew Shaw working at 60 something, Lowndes-square, and that they took their discharge together.
Cross-examined. Q. What are yon? A. Foreman of the job, under Messrs. Trollope, at the National Provincial Bank—this is the memorandum-book which I keep of the men's time—I know that the foreman is outside, but I was foreman of that job—Shaw was not at work on that job, I never saw him before—this was Saturday, October 7th—Saturday was the first day—I do not remember the clothes the prisoner wore when he came to work—here is another man down who came at 7.
JOHN SHAW . (In custody), I am a prisoner in Millbank, undergoing penal servitude for seven years for this burglary—I know the prisoner—I received a letter from him at my lodgings, on Saturday, 30th September—I have destroyed it—it was to the effect that I was to meet him on Thursday, 3d October, at a public-house in Gracechurch-street—I did so—it is near the new building, which is being erected by Messrs. Trollope—he said, "I want some money, and you must try and lend me your aid to get some"—there was some conversation afterwards, and the result was that that night I went down to Tudor Lodge—he said I was to go down to make some observations to see really where the plate was kept—I had been keeping company with the house-keeper at Mr. Martin's, and had told him so—I went down, and made observations about Tudor Lodge—I had seen the plate repeatedly about, but did not take particular notice of it—I looked to see how the window was fastened—I went down on 22d July, the day before the review at Wimbledon, with the prisoner, and pointed out the house to him—on the following Friday, the 6th, I met him again at the station at Putney—I met him at the railway station, and left him at a public-house, opposite, kept by Clipson—I went to Tudor Lodge, and went back and said I had much rather the burglary did not take place, because I was sure to be suspected, but he said that it must be done, and on that I parted with him at Putney Station, and agreed to meet him the night following, outside the music hall in the London-road—he left this bag, with some articles in it, at the station, I do not know with who, because I did not go to the office—I remained outside while he went in—I did not know what was in it then, but after it was opened, I saw a jemmy, a file, some rope, and one or two other articles which I do not see here—on the next Saturday, I met him at the music hall, and he said that I should have to go down on the Monday following—I did so, and met him at the Putney railwaystation—we went into a public-house opposite, and from there up Putney-lane, then into the Green Man public-house, where I left him until I went to Tudor Lodge—after I had been there, I returned to him at the Green Man at a little before 10—we then had some refreshment, and I went with him to Tudor Lodge—he had the leather bag with him—he had called for it at the railwaystation and got it—I assisted him over the wall, and afterwards got over myself—we remained in the summer-house till about 12 o'clock, and then, finding that all persons had gone to bed, we went round to the pantry window—Morris placed this piece of rope round the bars, and twisted it with a stick—finding we could not force the bars away by means of the rope, some brown-paper was put across the window, with some treacle, the glass was cut out with a diamond, the catch was unfastened, and Morris got in—he remained inside two hours, and I remained outside—he took
this bag in with him, and afterwards gave it to me with some property in it—there were some other articles besides those, which were wrapped up in a white cloth—we both went into the summer house, and waited there till about 4 o'clock in the morning—there was only one parcel of plate—there were two other parcels, one of which contained my coat—we waited till 4 o'clock—he got over first, over the gate on the wall, and I went back again, and put the plate in the bag in the shrubbery before we had got out of the grounds—the remaining articles of silver were wrapped up in a white cloth, and he took them—I carried two parcels, one under each arm, and he carried the two others—when we got near Clapham Junction, I was walking on first, and another man joined Morris—we met policeman, King, and I believe I said, "Good morning"—we both went to the station of the Chatham and Dover line, and took the railway train, I to Victoria and he to Ludgate-hill—he agreed to meet me that evening at the Elephant and Castle, but I never saw him afterwards till I was in custody—I have not the slightest doubt that this is the coat he wore that night—it was this colour, and he wore this cap, or one exactly like it—I saw him next on 17th November—I heard his voice in the van—there are small doors in the larger doors, and they being open, I looked through, and saw him in the opposite box, as you may term it, and I asked him what he was there for—he said, "For knocking some Moll about": that she had taken some money, and he had paid her for it—I said, "I am in custody for the burglary;" and told him there was another charge against me in reference to Lowndes-square—he said, "I am safe to get discharged for this, and I will come and see you, old fellow," but I saw nothing of him—I was convicted on Wednesday, 20th, and the day after I thought the matter well over, and communicated next morning with the Rev. Mr. Jones. GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted at Lambeth, in 1862, when he was confined One Month; to this he PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. SLEIGH and DALEY the Defence.
ELISHA LITTLE . I at present reside at Bexley-heath—I was formerly a grocer—when I first became acquainted with the defendant I was residing at Clifton-place, something like fifteen or sixteen months ago—I considered I was entitled to a sum of money—I had a letter from the country, and showed it to Mr. Rattenbury when the prisoner was in his shop—he keeps the shop I used to keep—the prisoner saw the letter, and said, "If this suit is in money, I can get it"—he said he was a solicitor; he always told me so—then it was proposed by the prisoner that I, Mr. Rattenbury, and himself, should go to Chancery-lane, and find out the suit—he gave me this copy of reports (produced)—that is the prisoner's name at the bottom—I gave him 2l. 11s. and something, for the stamp which it is on—up to the time of his speaking to me about Mr. Joyce, he got from me 30l.—at the latter end of May he told me it would be necessary for me to make an affidavit—before that be had shown me these papers (produced). (read, endorsed F. Wenham and another, in Chancery, Freeman v Parsley)—before we had the affidavit he read something out, which he told me was Mr. Joyce's opinion—he read it because, he said, barrister's writing was not to be read—I am not soholar
enough to read it—he put the papers of Mr. Joyce in his pocket—he had the papers of the suit with him—he wished to have some certificate from the country, which he and I went and got from Gloucestershire—he told me that he had actually been to Mr. Joyce's house, that when he could not catch him at his office, he had been to the West end—we never knew that he lived at Blackheath till we found he was duping—he told me that Mr. Joyce's opinion was, that I was head and chief, and nobody was entitled, if I was not—he said, "Do not tell Mr. Rattenbury about it, because he married my sister's daughter"—then after that he said it would be necessary to get two certificates, which you see on the top of his report, Mr. and Mrs Harris's—on 28th March he said, "I should like to go into the country"—I proposed that Mr. Rattenbury should go—he said, "No, I must go; Mr. Rattenbury cannot do it," and that I could not—it was determined that the prisoner should go—Mr. Rattenbury gave him 5l. that very same night, at a tea-meeting—he came to mo and said, "MR. Rattenbury has given me the 5l., and I am going down to get the certificates—I thought everything was right—after he took me to Chancery-lane, he said, "The Courts are on at Westminster, and Mr. Joyce is not at his office; he is at Westminster"—we went to Westminster—he took me into two or three Courts—he left me in one, and said, "I will go in to Mr. Joyce"—he came back and said, "I have seen Mr. Joyce, and he tells me he will go on with the case—about seven or eight days after, he came to me and said, "Mr. Joyce wants 10l.; he has presented a petition and the affidavit—I gave him the 10l., because he said Mr. Joyce wanted it to carry on the case, and the case was to come off the very next term—I had no other reason for giving him the 10l. than a belief that what he wanted was right—I believed he was a solicitor, he always told me he was—he told me he had just taken out his certificate again, and that he had paid 9l. for it—that belief was the means of my parting with my money—Mr. Rattenbury found out that he was not a solicitor.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you hear first that he was not a solicitor? A. About a couple of months ago—it was some time in October, I believe—I have lived at New-cross sixteen years—I know the parish church, and knew that the prisoner was clerk there—it did not surprise me that an attorney should hold that office—it did not occur to me that it was singular he being an attorney—I did not tell Mr. Rattenbury what the prisoner had said to me—I told him some of the story I have told here to-day—I am not allowed to charge the prisoner with obtaining more than 10l.—some of the money he laid out in obtaining legal documents—I know that he obtained those various reports—it cost all about 12l.—I understand the indictment is only for 10l.—(Certificates of the births and deaths of the witness's mother and father were here read.)—these were all the papers—MR. Rattenbury wrote this letter by my instructions—(This was from the witness to the prisoner, and requested him to hand to Mr. Rattenbury, on or before 12 o'clock, the following papers, a copy of Mr. Rattenbury's will, with a certificate of Little's and his sister's birth, and of Mr. Freeman's death, and a receipt of amounts paid, also that he would return to Mr. Rattenbury what he got from the witness by false pretences, to present a petition in his favour)—I only claim what he had for Mr. Joyce in this letter—the Magistrate would only allow us to claim for 10l.—if the law of false pretences is not so, it is wrong—he told me he had lodged the petition.
Q. (Reading from the depositions)—In a few day safterwards he came to my house, and he told me he wanted 10l. for lodging the petition; is that correct? A. Yes—he told me a hundred times that he was
an attorney, on my oath—he did not tell me more than three or four times that he had a certificate—the first time was in the summer—I had seen that Mr. Moss's name was on the brass plate at the prisoner's office—that was the reason I spoke to the prisoner about it—that was after he had had that money for me—I paid him the 10l. the latter end of May or the beginning of June—I had been to the prisoner's office perhaps a week before that 10l. was paid—I saw Mr. Moss there—I do not know whether at the time I called, Mr. Moss's name was on a brass plate—I cannot read—I do not know when it was put on—I will not swear that I did not see it when I paid the 10l.—I did not see it before I paid the 10l.—I cannot tell the day when I first saw it, I cannot say how long before I made the charge—he said he was an attorney—he has been at my house—you may take it that I was at his office thirty times during the year 1865, if you think proper—he married my niece—they have been married about four or five years—I did not apply to any one about this money before I saw the prisoner—I did not apply to a gentleman named Derozen, because the prisoner said he would do it—Derozen told me that he wanted 50 per cent, for getting it—I had a talk with the prisoner about the terms for obtaining this money—I did not say to him, "I do not want to employ an attorney till I can ascertain that there is a fund in Court"—I know Michael Denny—he lives in a cottage belonging to me—I did not recollect the prisoner saying in his presence, "I can get the lease prepared; of course you know I am not a solicitor, but I dare say I can get it done," it is wrong: not to my knowledge—it did not take place in my hearing—I did not tell the prisoner it did not matter whether he was a solicitor—I was with Denny when I signed it—Denny came to me and said the prisoner had been to him, and saw the agreement, and said, "This is no good to you, you must have a lease"—the prisoner attested the lease in my presence, when he had the money for it—I knew that at the time he signed his name as parish clerk, that he was an attorney—if Denny swears that the prisoner said, "I can get the lease prepared; I dare say you know I am not a solicitor, but I dare say I can do it," it will be untrue—I did not then say, "It does not matter to me whether you are a solicitor or not, but I want it all right—I signed the lease—I have seen him at church, opening the pews—he told me that he was going to be parish-clerk altogether, and that if he was not a solicitor, he could not do the parish business—he told me who Mr. Joyce was, and said that he had been frequently to see him, and had drunk wine and taken dinner with him, and that he lived at the West-end—the prisoner signed these two documents, "F. Wenham, solicitor" after this letter requesting him to return the 10l. that he got from me by false pretences.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Are these the papers he showed to you? A. They are.
WILLIAM JOYCE . I am a barrister at the Equity Bar—I do not know the prisoner—I never saw him till I went to the police-office—it is not true that I wrote my opinion as to this suit—he never showed a petition or report to me—I never told him that the plaintiff was the head and chief of this suit in Chancery—I have not seen him in this suit—there is a bare possibility that he might have called on me about eighteen months ago, but it is only my impression.
THOMAS SWAIN RATTKNBURY . I am a grocer, residing at Clifton-place—I recollect the prisoner being concerned in these proceedings in the Court of Chancery—he came into my shop one evening and said he had got Mr. Joyce's opinion about it—he said, "I have read it to Mr. Little, and I will show it to you"—after I had closed the shop, I asked him inside the sittingroom
—he took a paper out of his pocket, opened it, and said, "I will read it to you, because, perhaps, you will not be able to make it out; barristers do not write very plain"—he read it to me, and said, "There is Mr. Joyce's name at the bottom"—I saw the name of Joyce—Mr. Joyce's Christian name was not mentioned that time—he told me that Mr. Joyce had not charged him because he was so well acquainted with him—I asked him which Mr. Joyce it was who had given the opinion—I said, "I see there are three Mr. Joyces in the Directory"—he said, "There are three"—I said, "But there are only two Equity barristers; was it the Common-law barrister?"—he said, "It was the Equity barrister, Mr. William Joyce"—he told me he had been in practice as an attorney, and that he had taken an American bond for 3, 000l. and had lost it—these two papers (produced) are in the prisoner's handwriting—I found out that he was not an attorney by looking on the rolls.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you the means of introducing Mr. Little to the prisoner? A. Not that I am aware of—I have known Mr. Little the longest—the prisoner lives about three hundred yards from my house—I was on very intimate terms with him after he got acquainted with Mr. Little—he dealt with me before he spoke to Mr. Little—I am of the Church of England, but I do not go to that church—I cannot call to mind whether the prisoner ever occupied the exalted position of pew-opener in that church—there was a pew-opener, but I do not know who—I do not go there—I have seen the name of Mr. Moss on the door at the house where he resided—I will swear that it is not more than eighteen months ago when I first saw it—at that time, he was not dealing with me to the extent of 2l. or 3l. a week—sometimes he used to pay by cheques; but when he first began to deal with me, he used to pay ready money—he is no longer a customer of mine—his boy has come in for something—he ceased to become a customer when I would not supply him with any more goods—I had no words with him—I summoned him in the County Court, and he paid it before it came on for hearing—I believe he has purchased things in the shop—I have spoken to him—I was not so intimate with him as I was a little time previous—I referred to a post-office directory, to the law part of it—it was for the purpose of seeing if there was the name of Joyce, a barrister—I did not think to see if the prisoner was an attorney or not—before the rupture took place, I have asked him in, and he has had supper with me at times—he never mentioned the name of Moss in business transactions, that I recollect—MR. Moss does not live there—there was a brass plate on the door with "Mr. A. Moss" on it—I have been in the prisoner's back room, but whether it was Mr. Moss's office or not, I cannot say—I cannot recollect that the prisoner said, in reference to one matter, that it could only he done by an attorney, and he would get Mr. Moss to do it—I do not remember a matter of my own in respect of which the prisoner prepared a legal account to be done by Mr. Moss—Mr. Little did lease certain premises to me—the lease was not drawn up by Mr. Moss through the prisoner's agency, to my knowledge—I know nothing of Mr. Moss with any transaction with the prisoner—a Mr. Wittle undertook to draw the lease for two, and the prisoner said he was going to do it for Wittle—he is an accountant—the prisoner did not tell me in reference to that matter that he had laid it before Mr. Moss and taken his opinion about it, neither did he mention Mr. Moss's name to me about it—I have not heard him making use of Mr. Moss's name in reference to business at some of my friends'—I said to the prisoner, "You have got Mr. Moss's name on your door"—he said, "Yes"
—I said, "Are you going to let him have anything to do with Mr. Little's affair?"—he said, "Certainly not; it is too good a case for him to have anything to do with"—there was not the name of Mr. Wenham on the door.
WILLIAM FARMER FISHER . I am a clerk at the Law Institution—I produce the Law List for 1865—(MR. SLEIGH submitted that the Law List was only proof that certain solicitors, whose names appeared in it, had taken out certificates. The pretence alleged was that the prisoner was an attorney. The Law List might prove that the prisoner was not a certificated attorney; but he might be an attorney, and yet his name not be in the Law List. MR. F. H. LEWIS cited the twenty-second section of 23 and 24 Vic. c. 127, which makes the Law List evidence; and which declares, that "the absence of the name of any person from such list shall' until the contrary be made to appear. be evidence that such person is not qualified to practise as an attorney," &c. THE COURT ruled that the Law List was prima facie evidence that the prisoner was not an attorney, and refused to reserve the point.
Witnesses for the Defence.:—
MICHAEL DEKNY . I live at 1 and 2, Clifton-place, New-cross—early in October, 1864, I did not go to the prisoner's house and show him an agreement—it had not been prepared at Mr. W. Little's house, but he saw it—the prisoner said he was not an attorney then, but he had been—he said he was not a solicitor; that he had not drawn the lease up; that he was only a witness to it—I did not see them at any time together before the lease was prepared—MR. Little said I had a large family, and he wished me to be right—that was before the lease was executed—the lease was afterwards executed by Mr. Little at his own house—I saw the prisoner put his name to it—he remarked that he was parish-clerk—the prisoner is pretty well known about the neighbourhood—I did not suppose that he was an attorney.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he tell you that he was an attorney? A. No—he told me he had been—he said that he was not an attorney, and that he could not draw up the lease himself, but he would get it done—MR. Little heard him say it—that was in his own house—that was previous to when it was executed—it was in October, 1864—the prisoner has brought me here—he sent me a subpoena last Monday night—I might have told somebody what I can prove here to-day—I stated to Mr. Fenton before I got the subpoena what I could prove—that was on Saturday evening, as I was subpoened on Monday—I gave my evidence on Tuesday.
MR. DALEY. Q. Did any one ask you not to come into Court? A. No—I did not mention my evidence to the prisoner before it was taken, to my recollection—the prisoner was present when the communication took place.
ALFRED MOSS. I am a solicitor—I authorised my name to be put up at 3 and 4, Clifton-place, New-cross—the prisoner acted as my clerk—my name was on a brass plate in March, 1865—the business that the prisoner took was communicated to me—I have acted for Mr. Little as attorney in several matters through the prisoner.
Cross-examined. Q. When you came here did you know on which side you were subpoened? A. I did not—I had known the prisoner before—I had done business for him in 1863—I never saw Mr. Little or Mr. Ratten-bury in this matter—I knew nothing of it until I heard of it in the papers, and went down to Greenwich police-court to see what it was—I know he is not a solicitor—I never saw either Mr. Little or Mr. Rattenbury—I never saw a lease of Little and Denny—my name was on the door at the beginning
of October on a brass plate, right under the knocker—my London office is 28, St. Martin's-lane, Cannon-street—the arrangement between us was to ascertain what business he was to do—he was to see the clients when they came to the office—I was practising at the County Court, Greenwich—I was to have the profits of the transaction and was to reward him.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY .— Confined Four Months .
244. JOHN SKINNER (32), and ROSE SKINNER (21) , Breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Richard Pace, and stealing therein 1 handkerchief, 1 brooch, and other articles his property. Second Count receiving. MR. WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS RICHARD PACE . I live at 3, Rumsey-villas, Brixton, and am a leather merchant—this brooch and the other articles (produced) are all mine—they were part of the contents of a work-box and dressing case which were taken from my house at a quarter to eight on 3d January—my wife came into the house first; after that my attention was drawn to the first floor front window, the fastening of which was wrenched off—a dressing case and work-box were gone, and the drawers were open—I was sent for to the Brentford Petty Sessions—there I identified a single handkerchief as my property.
Prisoner John Skinner. Q. Did you ever see me before until you saw me in custody? A. Yes.
MARGARET PACE . I was at home at half-past seven or a quarter to eight on 3d January, my attention was called to the window—I heard a noise up stairs, looked at the window and found it open—I missed a dressing-case and a work-box from my room—these are my property.
John Skinner. Q. Did you see me? A. I saw a man leaving my house, but I cannot say it was you.
JOSEPH WILSON (Policeman, T 11). I took John Skinner on 10th January—I searched him at the station and found this handkerchief, marked in ink, "T. R. Pace, "which Mr. Pace identified—the day following, the female prisoner came to the station and stated that she wanted to see John Skinner—I said, "Who is John Skinner?"—she said, "He is my husband"—I said, "You will have to stand by a short time"—I saw no more of her till she was taken in custody.
John Skinner. Q. Did I tell you how I became possessed of that handkerchief? A. You said your wife was a dealer in old clothes, at the station, but at the police-court you said that a girl had given it to you, and that you did not know who the girl was or where she lived.
CHARLES CARLING (Policeman, H 163). About half-past ten at night on 12th January I was in New Nichol-street, Bethnal-green—I was near a door and saw the female prisoner and another woman inside the door—I heard the female prisoner ask the other woman to take care of a box—she called the other woman Jane—Jane said to Rose Skinner, "What is in the box?"—the prisoner said, "Nothing, much "—Jane said, "You had better take care of it yourself"—the female prisoner then said, "I think Jack is nicked, I expect the police will turn over my crib"—Jane said, "I shall not take care of it, you had better keep it in your own room"—a short time afterwards Jane went away—I watched the house till between three and four—I saw a light in the female prisoner's room, extinguished—I went up to the door and knocked three times—she said, "Who is that?"—I said, "Police"—she said, "What do you want?"—I said, "Come and see"—she opened the door—she was alone in the room—I said, "I have come to search your
room"—she said, "You can search it and welcome, you will not find anything"—I said, "Have you not got a box?"and she said, "No"—I said, "Are you sure of it?"—she said, "Yes"—I then went into the next room and found a little square box, an old-fashioned chair, and a tea caddy—I took that in to the female prisoner's room and said, "Is this box yours?"—she said, "No"—I found three letters in it—she said, "Do not look at those, they are mine"—I said, "Oh, these are yours then"—there was also a shaving brush there—I said, "Is this yours?"—she said, "Yes, it is no use denying it, I had them given me"—I found these articles (produced)—she said, "They do not belong to you, they are my own"—I found a glove stretcher, a shaving brush, three pairs of boots, and other articles which were partly identified by the prosecutor—the prisoner Rose said she had them given to her—I said, "Have you been to the pawnbroker's?"—she said, "I pawned them to go and see Jack"—I took her to Brixton next morning—I said, "You will be charged with the unlawful posession of these things"—she said, "I did not steal them, you know that"—the man she lives with goes by the name of John Skinner—on going to the station I said, "Is Jack married to you?"—she said, "No, I am only living with him"—she said that she had been living with him two years—he was living at 28, NowNichol-street—they live together.
John Skinner's Defence. It is only a case of unlawful posession; there is no evidence to prove that I committed the robbery. JOHN SKINNER, GUILTY .*— Five Years' Penal Servitude . ROSE SKINNER, GUILTY .— Confined Six Months..
Before Mr. Justice Willes.
MESSRS. GRIFFITHS and PALMER conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. SLEIGH and STRAIGHT the Defence.
PHŒBE SAVILLE . I am single, and live at 3, George-street, King-street, Borough—I know the deceased; she went by the name of Ann Carr, and lived with the prisoner at 33, George-street—the prisoner has a little girl named Mary Jane Crane, who lived with them—they all three occupied the same room, the first-floor front—the prisoner and Ann Carr did not live happily together, they were always quarrelling—they continued to live together, but they had occasional misunderstandings, such as other men and women who live together occasionally have—she had lived with Crane so far as I can recollect about four years—she had no children—on 9th January, about half-past eight o'clock, I was in her bed-room; she was in bed, and the landlady, Mrs. Downing, and the prisoner's little girl were in the room—the deceased was well and hearty then—the prisoner came home at five or ten minutes past 11—he asked me if I had seen his wife, I said, "No, I have not"—he asked me if I would go and get a pot of beer for him, and I went; when I came back he was up stairs, and I heard him say, "Get up you b—drunken b—, or else I will kick your b—guts out"—I do not know where he was then—I then heard her scream—I was down stairs in the landlady's room, and it sounded to come from up stairs—about two minutes afterwards I heard her say, "O father, do not kick me so," and then he came down stairs with a light—(they usually called each other "mother" and "father")—I said, "George, what game have you been up to?"—he said, "Why the b—is drunk"—I said, "Well, if she is drunk
that is no reason why you should ill-use her in the way you do"—I had seen him ill-use her many a time before, and knock her down in the street, as if she was not a Christian at all—he said, "Yes, I am bound to kill her"—next morning, at half-past 7, I saw the prisoner and the deceased in bed, and the deceased said that she was very bad, and had pains in her stomach—the prisoner could hear what she said—I got a mustard plaster and put it on her stomach—she complained of her stomach after I put it on—she seemed in much pain—I asked her where her chemise was, she said, "He tore it last night"—the prisoner said, "Here is 1s. 6d. go and buy one," and when I was going, she said to me, "Make haste, for I am so cold"—when I came back, the prisoner was up in the room ready to go out—I put the chemise on the deceased, and put another mustard plaster on her stomach, because she asked me to—she appeared in dreadful pain then—Crane went out about half-past 9, and in consequence of something the deceased said, I went to the place where he works, and said to him, "George, will you come home, for Annie is a dying;" he said, "What good can I do, if I come home?"—I said, "come home and see," and he went home with me—when he got in the room, he said, "Mother, what is the matter with you?" She made no answer, and he went over by the fire, and sat down, and said, "I do not know what it can be, I do not know what I can get for it"—she said, "You know very well; it is where you kicked me last night"—he turned round and said, "And a b—good job"—I than went home—I returned about 2 o'clock, and he was still sitting by the fire—he asked me to go to the pawnbroker's for him, and I took a child's frock, and pawned it for him for 2s. 6d. and brought it back to him with the ticket—I then stopped in while he went out and got something for his dinner—about 10, or half-past 10 in the evening, he was out of bed, rubbing the deceased's neck, and calling "Mother;" and he asked me if I would go down and tell his sister that Annie was dying—I did no, and when I came back she was dead.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Did you tell him she was dead? A. No, he old me at the corner of the street—he said, "Poor thing, she is dying, "and appeared very much distressed when he told me so—he rubbed her, and called her "Mother," and did everything kind to her—the deceased was not much addicted to drinking, she used only to drink porter—she used not to come home very often drunk, nor did quarrels take place between them about it; he used to beat her without cause—he used to complain to her of her drinking so much—he has actually dragged her home from public-houses where she has been drinking; if she has only just gone in, he has dragged her out by the hair of her head—she was not very tipsy on the night when I say she was well and hearty—there was no sailor in the room—she was tipsy and was singing—I mean to say that there was no man in the room that afternoon while she was singing—if Mrs. Downing says that there was a man in the room, whether a sailor or not, that will not be true.
COURT. Q. Were you there at the time Mrs. Downing was there? A. Yes; I went there with her, and came away with her—I do not know whether she was there without me—I was not there after 8 o'clock at night—no man was in the. room while Mrs. Downing and I were there.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. I am afraid it was not an uncommon thing for the prisoner to make use of dirty rough language? A. Yes, he very often did it whenever they quarrelled, week after week, and month after month, he used to make use of that nasty language about kicking—I went there on Tuesday, at 8 o'clock in the evening, and left at half-past 8.
MART JANE CRANE . I am the prisoner's daughter, and live with him at 33, George-street—the deceased has lived with him about five years—on Tuesday night, 9th January, he came home about a quarter past 11—Anu Carr was then in bed—she did not speak to him—I told him she had had a little drop of drink, and he went to bed to her at once—there was a fire in the room—he sat down by the fire, and said, "Mother, mother"—she sat up, and he said, "Who gave you those black eyes?"—she said she done it by falling over the box when she was undressing—she then got out of bed—I do not know why—my father only asked her who gave her those black eyes, that I heard—he asked her to get out of bed to get his supper, but I cannot tell you the exact words he said to her—he was cross, but he did not say what he would do if she did not get up, for when he got cross I ran away—I left the room because I wanted to go to the yard—my father was by the bed when I left the room—he was doing nothing, but she was getting up—I saw my father lift his hand up—it was shut—I did not hear him say anything—I thought he was cross, because he spoke cross to her when he asked her about the black eyes—I only heard him say, "Who gave you those black eyes?"—nobody had been talking to me about this affair—I did not hear my father say that he would do something to Ann Carr—I went down into the yard, and was there about a quarter of an hour, I suppose—I then went up stairs again, and only found father there—Ann Carr was not in the room—next day, about 8 o'clock, she said, "I have got such pains in my stomach"—she said nothing about anybody having done it—he said, "Well, I cannot help it"—that is all I heard—at 12 o'clock Phoebe Saville was in the room, and the landlady, Johannah Downing—my father had gone out that morning, and Phoebe Saville went and fetched him—when he came back, he said, "What is the good of my coming; what can I do?"—I did not hear her answer, or hear her say anything about the night before—Phoebe Saville and the landlady were in the room at that time—my father asked what he could do for her; if he should fetch a doctor—she said, "No, never mind"—that is all I heard her say—I left the room, and went down stairs—I did not hear my father say anything as I was going down stairs—when I went to the yard on Tuesday night, Ann Carr was getting up, and when I came back, she was not in-doors—I did not hear my father say, "Get up, you b—drunked b—; or I will kick your b—guts out."(These words appeared in the Coroner's depositions, but not in those of the Magistrate, and the Court considered that the Magistrate's depositions only, could be dealt with.)
COURT. Q. Remember, you are to tell the truth; you owe that to God, and you must not consider who it may serve or harm; were you there that Tuesday before your father came in? A. Yes, and Mrs. Downing was there, and the first witness—I had seen my mother fall over the box—she had got into bed after that—she did get a black eye in the fall—her eye was very much swelled when she fell—I went to bed a little while after that, but I stayed till my father came in, and told him she had had a little drink, and he went and asked her how she got the black eye—it was after that he told her to get up, and she was getting up as I went down the stairs—I did not hear him say what he would do to her if she did not get up—he did not say, "Get up, or I will do something," but he lifted up his fist when he told her to get up—she said at first, "I won't get up"—I stopped a little while; and then she was getting up, and when I saw her getting up, I went down—I did not hear him say that if she did not get up, he would do something to her—I did not hear him say he would kick her if she did not get up.
Q. They say that you said before the Magistrate, that he said if she did not get up he would do something to her, and before the Coroner, that if she did not get up, he would kick her; do you still say, on being reminded of that, that he did not say he would kick her, or do something to her? A. I did not hear him, not as I am aware of—all he did was to lift up his fist, when he said, "Get up"—she was getting up when I went away, and I came back and found him in bed—when she awoke next morning, he said, "I cannot help it," and she said, "You know"—I did not hear him say anthing to that—yes, his answer was, "A good job too"—I was by when Phoebe was there next day, but did not hear what was said.
Cross-examined. Q. Your father is at work every day, I suppose, and comes home at night? A. Yes—the deceased was very often drunk, and my father was very angry with her for being drunk—it was after Phoebe Saville left, on the Tuesday night, that I saw the deceased fall—she was then very drunk, but was standing up and undressing herself—the box was near the fire-place—it was a sailor's chest, a great big box—she only fell once, but she fell on the box and then on the floor—I mean that she rolled on the floor, after falling on the box—I was then by the fireplace—it was a heavy fall on the box—I helped to get her up off the floor, and assisted her to the side of the bed, and helped her into bed—she could not stand steadily that night, for she was very drunk indeed, but I have seen her as drunk many times, and my father has been extremely angry, and threatened her—I did not see him strike or kick her on this Tuesday night—he lifted up his fist, but did not strike her.
MR. GRIFFITH. Q. Do you know where Phoebe Saville was, when she fell on the box? A. Down in the landlady's room—Mrs. Downing was in the same room—the deceased fell before my father came home—she fell heavily, and made a deal of noise—there is only one box in the room—it is about a yard from the bed, right against the wall—she first complained of a pain in the stomach in the morning—I cannot tell you where she was when I came up from the yard—I saw her again that night—I was in bed about 12 o'clock—when she came up she walked up, or came up the best way she could—no one came with her—I have often heard my father threaten her, but never saw him beat her.
COURT. Q. You went to bed about what time? A. About half-past 10—it was about 10 o'clock when she fell, and my father came home an hour and a quarter afterwards—after the singing they left, about half-past 8—when my father came home, it was past 11, and then what I say passed between him and the deceased—when I came back, my father alone was in bed, and about 12 o'clock the deceased came in—she returned to the room about three-quarters of an hour after I returned from the yard—I left the room about a quarter past 11—my father came in at a quarter past 11, and some time elapsed before I went down stairs—I had not slept at all—there was not a man there in the night while Mrs. Downing and Phoebe were there, but there had been a sailor there in the afternoon; I was there at the time—they came up at half-past 4—there was only my mother and Mrs. Downing and the sailor up stairs, not Phoebe.
JOHANNA DOWNING . I am single, and live at 33, George-street—the prisoner and the deceased lodged with me—I have known her between eight and nine years—she was living with the prisoner—I never heard that she was married to him—the little girl lived with them and occupied the same room—on Tuesday night, 9th January, about half-past 8 o'clock, I saw the deceased—she was not in bed—she was very much intoxicated, but she
appeared to be in good health—she could not stand very well—I heard no noise in the house about 10 o'clock that night, and I was sitting in the room underneath theirs—Phoebe Saville was in the room at one time—she was there about 10 o'clock, before the prisoner came home—after she left my room, I heard the deceased get out of bed—I heard no fall on the floor before the prisoner came home, but her little girl told me that she did fall—the deceased came down to me in the course of that night—she seemed to be in great pain—she asked me something—it was between 1 and 2 in the morning—I do not remember at what time the prisoner came home—she slept with me for a couple of hours, and in consequence of something she said to me, I took her up stairs and saw the prisoner and his daughter in bed—I saw the deceased again on Wednesday morning—she was very ill, and complained of her stomach—I was in the room when Phoebe Saville asked the prisoner to come—I found a piece of hair on the ground in the room, which appeared to me like human hair, and I asked how it came there—the prisoner said that he did not know, unless some one was combing her hair, and it came out—when the deceased complained of her stomach, the prisoner said he did not know what was the matter with her, it was the brandy he gave her made her stomach ache—I asked the deceased if it was the brandy—she said, "No," and said to the prisoner, "You know who did it"—he replied, "A b—y good job"—no one else lived up stairs in my house except the prisoner, the deceased, and the daughter.
Cross-examined. Q. How long was it before the prisoner came home that the little girl ran down stairs and said something to you about what had happened? About 6 o'clock—she told me that deceased had had a fall—that was between 5 and 6, before the prisoner came home at all—she made no communication to me later that night—the deceased was in my room for some time that afternoon—there was a sailor there likewise—Phoebe Saville was there also, part of the time.
COURT. Q. Whose room are you speaking of? A. My own room—it was in my own room that the sailor was—I did not see him in her room—he was in my room from 2 o'clock till about 10 in the evening.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Whose friend was he? A. Mine—Phoebe Saville was not there all the time—we had something to drink during all these hours, but the deceased was very near drunk before she came into my room at all, and she was not any better when she left—she could scarcely stand—my room is down stairs, and hers is up—she did not to my knowledge at one time take a sip out of the glass raw—she drank brandy and water, and she was singing, but not dancing—she sang with the sailor down stairs in my room—they were drinking white brandy—it was all spirit that the sailor brought, but we drank it with water—the hair which was found was just like what would be combed out of a woman's head, and thrown on the floor—the deceased's words to the prisoner were, "You know what did it."
MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. You say the sailor was your friend, and that he was in your room; did he come there to see you, and was he drinking with you? A. Yes—I am certain that the words she made use of were, "You know what done it."
ANN BEM . I am the wife of Josiah Bem, o 32, George-street—I do not know the prisoner and the deceased, but I knew they lived next door—on Tuesday night I heard a great noise in the next room, a kind of screaming of a female—it was the night this happened—I cannot tell you the time, for I was suddenly awoke—I heard a man's voice very loud, and a woman's voice screaming very loud—there was a wall between us—the
sounds appeared to come from the left side, as I laid in bed—the front room is on the left—the prisoner lives on the right hand—there is not a room between theirs and mine—there are only four rooms in the house, and I live on the top floor—there is only one story—there was only a wall between my room and their room—the sound seemed to come from the same house where it happened—the screams were very loud, and in a woman's voice—I heard her say, "Oh, George, if you hit me any more you will kill me"—I also heard a man's voice, very loud, but I could not say what man it was.
COURT. Q. Can you tell what time it was? A. No, because, I was in bed about half-past 9, and woke up and heard the screams—I cannot tell whether it was in the large or the small hours, but I believe it was before 12 o'clock—it was not in the morning part.
SARAH ELLIOTT . I am the wife of William Elliott, of Paradise-place, George-street—I have known the deceased about four years—on Tuesday night, 9th January, I was in her room—she was in bed—she seemed in pretty good health—I went there on the Thursday, and saw the prisoner in the room, and several other people—some one, I cannot tell who, said, "It is a bad job that Annie is dead"—I said, "Yes, it is a bad job"—the prisoner, said, "I cannot help it"—I said, "May be, perhaps you can help it; you know, George, you beat her many a time"—he said, "I own to all that, but I did not do this"—I have frequently seen him beat her, but not within the last three months—I have interfered between them several times.
Cross-examined. Q. When yon have seen him beat her as you say, was that on occasions when she was drunk? A. Yes—she has got beastly drunk—the prisoner to my knowledge has frequently dragged her from the publichouse himself, and begged and implored of her to give up drinking—he is a hardworking man, working all day, and coming home at night—they call him in the papers a cab touter at London-bridge—when that conversation occurred next day, he appeared sorry, and concerned for her death.
MARY ANN HOLLAND . I live opposite to 33, George-street—on Tuesday night, 9th January, between 11 and 12 o'clock, I was awoke by a screaming which seemed to me to be opposite, across the street—it is a narrow street, but a horse and cart can pass by—the screams were in a woman's voice—I did not interfere because we used to hear it frequently, and she was very much given to drink.
THOMAS GARDENER (Police-sergeant, M 6). On Friday, 12th January, from information I received, I went to 33, George-street, and found the dead body of Ann Carr lying on a bedstead—I have known her, I should think, fourteen or fifteen years—I saw a number of bruises on her head, her eyes were blackened, and her chest was much swollen—the prisoner was in the room, and I said, "How did she come by these black eyes?"—he stated that she fell over a box—I said, "Her chest seems very much swollen, what is the cause of that?"—he said that that occurred after death—I said, "In consequence of information I have received, I must take you to the station on suspicion of causing her death," and I did so.
Cross-examined. Q. Had she been dead three days then? A. Yes.
THOMAS NEWMAN . I am assistant to Mr. Downes, of White-street, Borough—I attended the deceased at twenty minutes past 10 on the evening of 10th January—I found bruises on her eyes and shoulders—her stomach was very much distended—I left her and sent her an anodyne mixture—I saw a box which stood in the centre of the room, about two yards from the bed.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you think she had inflammation of the bowels? A. yes
CHARLES DOWNES , M.R.C.S. I live at 13, White-street, Borough—on Friday afternoon, between five and six o'clock, I think, but am not certain, I went to see the deceased—I found her dead and laid out—the clothes were taken from her body, and she was covered with a sheet—the eyes were very much blackened, and the belly very much distended, greatly swollen—there were other bruises about the face, one on the side of the face, and the right side of the jaw was bruised—a portion of the outside rim of the right ear was gone, that was recent, and also a small portion of the left ear—I am not certain that that was not inflicted after death; it had the appearance of having been gnawed by rats—I found the right shoulder very much discoloured by bruises, which appeared to be recent—the right elbow seemed greatly bruised and black, that was recent—the right hip was also greatly discoloured, the bruise extended from the hip round the right buttock—there were many small bruises and scratches on the hands, small lacerations, or very shallow scratches and bruises—I examined the legs and found the same small bruises and scratches on the front of the shin bones—there were a great many on various parts of the legs, and all over the body there were small bruises, I should think 100 if I had counted; there were a great number—there were many about the hands and wrists, more particularly the fingers—the bruises were not caused after death—there was nothing external to signify the cause of death unless it was the collective effect of such a large number of bruises, some of which were immense—I cannot state that that might not have caused so much disturbance as to cause death from the general shock—on the 16th I proceeded to open the body; it was particularly well nourished—I examined the cavity of the pleura and the lungs; they were, generally speaking, healthy, but there was a slight congestion of the top of the right lung, and what we call calcareous deposit, evidence of disease, but not of a very important character, nor was it recent—the heart was perfectly healthy, but peculiarly empty of blood—there was no outward bruise on the belly, but on raising the skin I found the muscle and flesh underneath greatly bruised and blackened on the right side at the lower part, and the faciae and integuments underneath were greatly discoloured—the faciae is the cellular tissue which lies immediately under the fat and integuments—I am alluding to a black patch—the discolouration might be continuous with the large bruise on the right hip, but it did not extend there on the outside; it was not visible outside—it is very likely that a blow might be given without making a bruise outside, but which would make one inside, many cases are well known; even a cart wheel has gone over the body of a living person and destroyed an organ inwardly, and yet left no outward mark—I divided the muscles and the wall of the belly—on opening the belly the first thing that I saw was that the intestines were much more red than they could be in health; also that they were matted together by lymph, which could be peeled off, the product of inflammation—I carefully lifted the intestines aside and saw a large quantity of feculent fluid in the cavity of the belly, and in doing that I found a hole in the small intestine through which feculent matter was oozing as I lifted it—on examining it further, I found a dark crimson discharged patch about two inches long, going about three parts round the circumference of the intestine; the hole was in the centre of the patch—the immediate cause of death was the perforation of the intestine allowing the escape of the contents of the intestine into the cavity. of the belly—the brain, uterus, and kidneys were healthy.
COURT. Q. What size was the hole? A. It was ragged and the edges
broke down under the finger; it was about three quarters of an inch in diameter—it was at the side of the belly, on the under side of the loup of the intestine—I had to lift it up, and found the hole was at the back—it was the small intestine, the illium.
MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. What in your opinion would have caused that? A. External violence in all probability—a knife would be likely to cause it—judging from the general appearance of the body, if she fell with great violence over a sharp corner it might have produced the injury to the intestine, but it could not have produced at the same time the external bruises on the right side—a sharp corner such as I describe would be likely to leave a mark outside, and a kick would be likely to do so.
Cross-examined. Q. If the kick would have produced the external marks, so would similar marks arise from a corner of a box, would they not? A. Yes, probably—the absence of external appearances is consistent with it being either a kick or a fall, and so would the existence of external bruises be—I should expect them in both cases—some people exhibit external marks and others do not—I opened the stomach, but did not detect the smell of alcohol; the distance of time at which the examination was made might probably account for that—the cause of death was no doubt mischief inside the abdomen, the immediate cause of that being perforation—the perforation was in the posterior part of the fold of the illium where the loup of the intestines lies.
COURT. Q. Posterior in reference to what? A. Anatomically we should call that the anterior part which is not attached; but I am speaking as I found the intestines when I opened the body—I do not say anterior and posterior with reference to the back and front of the body; it would be right and left—it would be on the left-side as the intestines lay in a loup—the illium passes transversely through the jejunum to join the other intestines in a number of loupes—it was only on one loup that the performtion was—that portion would be lying perpendicular in the normal state, not transversely—it would depend on whether the intestines were full or empty, whether the loupes lay in a sort of vermicular form—that is not the state in which they would be found in a dead body as contradistinguished from perpendicular—it might have been perpendicular or transverse, I am unable to say which; I only say what I found—this particular fold lay perpendicular—the perforation was towards the side of the abdomen on the same side as the liver; but the liver is up here—the portion of the illium in which the perforation was beneath the hip bone in that cavity—perforation is sometimes the result of disease—I made a preparation of the intestine—I have not got it here, but I can send for it—the orifice is ragged and is the centre of what has the appearance of a bruise—the edges were bruised and torn with the surrounding part—that might be the result of external violence—the bruise could not be produced by disease, but by external causes—I believe cases are known of perforation of the intestines, where death is instantaneous, without any previous apparent causes, but they are excessively rare; I never saw a case—there was an appearance of incipient disease in the liver; you could hardly call it disease, it indicated that some time hence the woman would have liver disease—it was more in the condition of showing that disease was approaching—there was not such an appearance as to lead me to suppose her health was injured—I do not think the hundred scratches and bruises were of old standing, there might have been only eighty, I did not count them—I had no acquaintance with the deceased professionally, and do not know her habits.
MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. Considering the bruises you found in the stomach, do you think it likely that the perforation was from internal causes? A. I do not—if she had fallen on the box, the blow on the shoulder would certainly not have occurred.
COURT. Q. About what age was the woman? A. I am told she was thirty-eight, but the face was so much discoloured I could not form an opinion—she might be from thirty to forty—perforation caused by disease would be instantly known to the patient, because it would produce agonizing pain—when I said external violence would cause it, I spoke of the hole and of the bruises—if a drunken woman was undressing herself and stumbled and fell against the corner of a sailor's chest, it might inflict that injury, but it would depend on the height she fell—I was told that she fell off the bed to the box—I say that a person would require to fall with very great force to inflict it—I believe that perforation would occasion pain which would gradually increase in severity as the matter came through it—the conclusion I arrive at that this should be imputed to violence depends a good deal on the other marks on the body, such as the blackening at the hip.
COURT to MART JANE CRANE. Q. You told us about your going down to the yard, and leaving your father and mother in the room, and that when you came back, your father was there; and some time afterwards your mother came back, you think about 12 o'clock: do you recollect her going down to Mrs. Downing's room? A. I do not know where she went—she did not leave the room after she came back, that I know of—I only know of her leaving once—at the time she had the fall at 10 o'clock, she was standing by the corner of the box—she was off the bed.
COURT to CHARLES DOWNES. Q. Was it on Wednesday or Thursday you were called in? A. My assistant was called in on the Wednesday, but I did not see the deceased till the following day, Thursday—she died on the Wednesday.
JURY. Q. Now you know that she was not standing on the bed, but was close by the box; do you think that would cause the perforation of the intestines? A. I cannot conceive that the mere fall on the box of a person standing on the floor, would occasion it—I think it would require falling from a height, or being thrust down violently—I did not think she was standing on the bed, I said, "Fell from the bed"—I understood that she was sitting on the bed—a person who came into my house told me so; not the little girl: none of the witnesses—I do not think it was anybody who was standing by—she might have been lying on the bed—when I saw the box it was nearer than two yards from the bed—I cannot conceive that a person standing by the box, and falling on it would be sufficient.
GUILTY of Manslaughter. Recommended to mercy by the Jury, on the ground that the circumstances were very peculiar, and the woman's system was more liable to be injured by violence, as she was in a state of intoxication. Five Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. E. P. WOOD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON defended Abrahams.
three young men pounced upon me, one in front and two behind—I caught hold of my watch and chain, which was in my right pocket—one of them caught hold of it, and gave two or three tugs—this was by the railway-arch, a dark place—I cried out "Robbery" three times—one of them clasped me by the mouth and held me, so that I could not halloa; and then they threw me down—my watch was snapped from the chain, and it was picked up about a foot from where I was lying—they went off very quickly, I think some one overhead opened their window to see what was the matter—I cannot identify the prisoners because it was dark, and I was so agitated—the watch was worth 12l.
ALFRED BURTON . I am 17 years of age, and live at 19, Princes-street, Lambeth—shortly after nine, on the night of 24th January, I was at the top of Anderson's-walk—I saw all three prisoners there—I cannot swear to Clark, I swear to the other two—I have known Warren and Abrahams well by sight, and when I saw them this night, they were close to a lamp, walking towards the Railway-arch—after they had gone about six yards from the lamp, Warren said, "We must have him quick, or else we shall lose the chance"—they were walking behind the prosecutor about five or six yards—when they got to the railway-arch, they attacked him—there were three of them—I heard him call out "Robbery," and I went for a constable, but could not see one—I went about ten yards round the corner, and then went back—the prisoners saw me coming, and they jumped up and ran away—the third one had a light coat on, but I could not swear to him—Clark is like him.
Cross-examined. Q. Where were you? A. I was about two yards behind in the dark—when I first saw them they were near a lamp—I followed them because I heard them say, "We must have him quick, or we shall lose the chance"—I saw their faces by the light of the lamp—I did not see Clark's face—one was walking in front, and two behind—the one in front is the one I cannot swear to—I have seen Abrahams a hundred times, round at the Jolly Gardeners—I did not know him by name—I did not tell the policeman his name, but I gave a description of him—Warren had on a black cap, flattened down, and a black coat; and Abrahams had on a tight cap and a jacket—I told the policeman he was a stout chap—I did not see Abrahams again until he was at the police-station—the policeman told me he bad taken two, but he did not know whether they were right or not—he brought Abrahams and Warren out, and I said, "Those are the men"—I do not know what Abrahams is—I did not hear him say that he was not the man, and that he knew nothing about it.
JOSEPH FLAXTON (Policeman, L 25). On the night of 24th January, I heard cries, and went into Anderson's-walk—I met the prosecutor there, bleeding from the mouth—I asked him what was the matter—I saw Burton, who gave me a description of the men—I took him to the Jolly Gardeners, and he there identified Warren amongst several others—I took him, and charged him with being concerned, with two others, in stealing a watch from a man—he said, "I have not been out of the Jolly Gardeners since 7 o'clock"—I knew that was not true, as I had met him about a quarter past 8, with Abrahams—I took Abrahams the next night—he said, "I was at Astley's Theatre from 5 o'clock till 11, with a sailor"—I know that is not true—another constable took Clark, and when the charge was read over to him at the station, he did not say anything—this piece of paper contains what Abrahams said to Clark after they were locked up—I wrote it down at the time—"They have got old Jones to say that he lost his watch; I expect they
cannot find the boy to-night to look at us"—Clark said, "I would like to take eighteen months for my bit"—Abrahams said, "We shall all get the same, it is certain that Warren has rounded on us, else he could not pick on us two"—I saw all three of them together on the night of the robbery, going in the same direction—Clark was about forty or fifty yards behind—I heard this conversation at the cell door, and wrote it down.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you wrote this at the cell door with a pencil; have you orders to do that? A. No; they commenced calling to each other, and I remained at the door, and heard what they said—I did not caution them—they were in separate cells—I stood by the door of the cell that Abrahams was in—I read this paper before the Magistrate, and the prisoners did not deny it.
FREDERICK CASTLETON . I am a grocer, residing at 51, Vauxhall-walk—on this Wednesday night, I saw two of the prisoners, I believe Warren and Clark, standing with their backs to my door, looking into my shop—I went to the door, and they then moved away very slowly, watching me all the time.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate:—Warren says, "I am innocent; I had nothing to do with it."Clark says, "I was with my brother at Nine Elms when it occurred with Mr. Jones. I do not know what night it was."Abrahams says, "I know" nothing about robbing Bean, I was at Astley's; we went away from the Jolly Gardeners."On the remand, Warren says, "I walked with them up Anderson's-walk, but had not anything to do with it, and then I went away. It was not I who said those words that the boy has stated."Clark says, "I was coming from the Nine Elms, and met Warren and Abrahams in the Vauxhall-walk, and passed them, that is all. I went to the Jolly Gardeners and lit my pipe, and went up the Cut and saw no more of them."Abrahams says;" It is a shame I should stand here and have a lot of lies told about me; I know nothing about it. I was at Astley's, and there are fourteen or fifteen in the Jolly Gardeners can prove it."
GUILTY .—WARREN— Confined One Year . ABRAHAMS**— Confined Two Years . CLARK was further charged with having been convicted at Lambeth Police-court in December, 1864; to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WOOD the Defence.
ELLEN GABRETT . I live at 1, Hook's-lane, Peckham, and am a laundress—the prisoner lives in the same house—Emily Ellen Pearce lived there with him as his wife, and the child Stephen Pearce is, I believe, their child—on 10th January, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, I heard the child crying, and said to my daughter, "Have you seen Mrs. Harding go out?"—she said, "Yes, she has gone out"—it was crying as if its head was under the clothes—I heard the father cough, and when I knew he was there, I took no further notice—Emily Pearce was gone about half an hour, and when she came back she went into her room and brought the baby out to me, and said she thought it was in a fit—it was very black all round the nose, and the mouth and eyes were closed—it was not able to cry—the mother asked me to feel its head—I felt the back of it, and it was very soft, as if it had had a bad bruise or fall, and it seemed very wet with perspiration, as if it had been under the bed-clothes—I persuaded her to take it to the
doctor's, and she did so—the ears were very red, and the next morning they were black.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you had much experience with children? A. I have had seven—none of them have had a serious fall—I think it had had a fall, because the side of the head felt as if the bone was broken.
EMILY ELLEN PEARCE . I am now living with my mother—I am single—I have known the prisoner eighteen months—about four months ago, I had a child by him—we lived together at No. 1, Hook's-lane, Peckham—the child's name was James Stephen Pearee—he is in Court—on Wednesday, 10th January, about two in the afternoon, I went to my sister's to borrow some money, and left the baby in bed—when I came back, I found it making a funny noise in the bed—the prisoner was left in the room—the baby was sighing, as if he had been crying some time—I said to the prisoner, "What is the matter with baby? has it been crying?"—he said, "No, not long; he is hungry"—I took the baby off the bed, and he said, "Give the baby titty"—I did that, but he would not take the breast—he was quite black in the face, and could not hold himself up—I screamed out, "Baby is dead"—the prisoner said, "Hold your tongue, you silly; there is nothing the matter with it"—when I came back, I found the prisoner sitting by the fire-place—that is not far from the bed—I ran up stairs with the baby to Mrs. Gambler—she told me to take it to a doctor, as there was something the matter with its head—its head felt quite soft—I then went to Mr. Bloomfield—my mother complained to the police—when I returned from the doctor's, the prisoner was not there—that was about half-past 4, and he did not come home till 1 o'clock in the morning—he brought a young girl home with him named Nancy Tooke—when he came in he asked me if baby was dead—I said, "No, he is very near dead; what did you do to him?"—he said, "Nothing"—he then asked if I would say he was tipsy, and that baby fell off his lap—I said, "No, it is done now, and cannot be helped"—he sat down and cried—then Nancy Tooke asked me to say the same, to say that baby fell off his lap when he was left with it tipsy—he took a knife off the sideboard, and was about to leave the room, when Nancy Tooke threw him on the bed, and took the knife from him—the surgeon came directly afterwards—when I left the child with the prisoner it was perfectly well and healthy—on the Saturday previous I went out and left baby at home with the prisoner, and when I came back, its mouth was cut and bleeding, the top lip was cut inside—I asked him then what was the matter with it—he said he had let him fall—he was sober then, and he was also sober on the Wednesday—the prisoner always seemed very kind to the child until after Christmas, and then he seemed snappish and spiteful with him—he used to halloa at it, and try to beat it—he said he was too old and artful—I lived on very good terms with the prisoner—I was. short of money.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you not cry when information was given to the police? A. No, it was about baby, because people said he was dying—when he found the child was ill, he seemed sorry, and cried—I know Nancy Tooke, but I did not know she was an acquaintance of the prisoner's—I was not at all jealous of her—I did not see her sister at the doctor's—Nancy Tooke came up stairs that night, to ask about the child, and she seemed anxious about it—she asked me to say that the child fell off the chair—when he came home at 1 o'clock in the morning, he had been drinking—as a rule he is a very sober man—he has not done any work since the week before Christmas—he was in the habit when at home to sit by the fire, but
he does not go to sleep there—he was not nursing the child when I went out, it was on the bed—when I came back it was not on the same side that I had left it, it was on the other side—it was half asleep when I went out—it frequently happens with children when they are left half asleep, that they wake up suddenly and make a noise, and they have then to be quieted—it would be nothing extraordinary for the prisoner if the child cried, to take it up and nurse it—he has frequently nursed it, and seemed very fond of it.
ELIZABETH PEARCE . I am the mother of Emily Pearce, and live at Camden-square, Peckham—my daughter has been living with the prisoner as his wife, and has had a child by him—on 10th January, she sent for me to look at the child—I found it lying like a child dying—the doctor had left orders that mustard was to be applied to its feet with warm water—I tried that, but the child screamed so, I was obliged to discontinue it—its head seemed as if it was smashed in—the prisoner has acknowledged it as his child.
WILLIAM STEPHENS (Policeman, P 19). On Wednesday, 10th January, I went to 1, Hook's-lane, Peckham—I there saw the child, Stephen Pearce—about half-past 10 I went in search of the prisoner, and a little before I in the morning, I saw him leave the Crown public-house, and return home with the girl Ann Tooke—I followed them to the prisoner's house—they went in, and I went in a few minutes afterwards by the back door—I stayed in the passage, and heard Tooke say to Ellen Pearce, "Don't be hard with Jim; say it fell off the chair"—shortly after, I went into the room—I told the prisoner I should take him in custody for assaulting the child, with intent to murder it—he made no answer—I was in uniform—he seemed very much agitated—Tooke told me she had taken a knife from him, and wished me to be careful—on the way to the station he said the child fell off his knee, while he was sitting by the fire.
JOSEPH BLOOMFIELD , M.R.C.S. I live at 8, Peckham-rye, Peckham—on Wednesday, 10th January, Mrs. Pearce came to me with a child—I examined it, and found the head very much swollen, particularly on the right side—the child was very pallid, and greatly exhausted—I examined it more particularly next day, and found a very bad fracture across the right side of the head, with the bone depressed in one part nearly an inch in diameter—the fracture was just above the right ear, extending backwards and upwards—both ears were bruised, and there was a bruise on the lower part of the back, to the right of the spine—it must have been a severe blow—the child is in great danger at the present time, and will be for some months hence—it has rallied a great deal, and improved very much—it is impossible to say to what extent it may suffer from that injury—my opinion is this fracture was caused by some violent blow—I am hardly in a position to say whether a fall off a chair would cause such an injury—I have an opinion that it would not—there were marks of violence on the left ear, and one on the right ear; the head was very much swollen and fractured, and one on the back.
COURT. Q. Would all those symptoms have been caused by a fall? A. No, I think not; there must have been something extra besides the fall to have caused the bruises—the serious part of the mischief might possibly have been caused by a fall, but I do not think it is likely.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. You say the child was very much exhausted? A. Yes, it was fainting almost—the injury would cause that pallidness.
Crossexamined. Q. You say it might have been caused by a fall, but you
are not in a position to say that it was not? A. I do not think it likely that it was caused that way—it must have fallen some height to have produced such an injury—the skull was not only fractured but there was a depression, and you could put your thumb in the hole—I should not like to say that a fall on the edge of a fender would not produce that, but the edge of a fender would have produced a long cut, this was oval—a fender must have a peculiar projection to have caused this depression—one with a ball projecting might have caused it—this child was four months old—the skull is entirely formed at that age—some children's heads are much earlier formed than others—I have not read "Holden's Manual of Human Osteology."
COURT. Q. You said that both ears were bruised, was that by violence? A. Yes; by some of the violence—both ears could not have been bruised by one fall—the blows on the head appeared to be quite fresh, and also that on the right of the spine—the blackness in the face, described by the witnesses, I can hardly connect with a fall—I think that must have been from some kind of stoppage in breathing.
MR. STRAIGHT to EMILY ELLEN PEARCE. Q. What sort of fender is it in your room? A. It is a little one—it has not got a big knob, it is like a piece of iron with little holes in it, and is flat.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY .— Twenty Years' Penal Servitude .