CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SEVENTH SESSION, HELD MAY 6TH, 1867.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
Sess. VII - XII
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, May 6th, 1867, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. THOMAS GABRIEL, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir COLIN BLACKBURN , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., and WARREN STORMES HALE, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; the Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE , Esq., ROBERT BESLEY , Esq., and DAVID HENRY STONE , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; and THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
GABRIEL, MAYOR. FOURTH SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, May 6th, 1867.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Upon the opening of MR. SLEIGH for the Prosecution, the Court considered there was scarcely a case upon which a Jury could convict; no evidence was therefore offered by Mr. Sleigh, and the defendant was acquitted.
455. JOHN HALL (20) , to stealing sums of 4s. and 5s. of Cramer and Co., his masters; also to feloniously forging and uttering a request for the payment of money.— Confined Eighteen Months. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
456. HENRY BARRETT (19) , to stealing llb. of iodide of potassium, 1lb. of scammony, and 3/4lb. of essence of bergamot, of Elizabeth Langton, his mistress.— Confined Twelve Months. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
458. WILLIAM KIRBY (20), to four indictments to stealing 148 gross of stay tapes and other goods of Henry Edmund Knight and others, his masters.— Confined Eighteen Months. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN PEED (Policeman 404 K). On Saturday evening, 6th April, about nine o'clock, I was sent for to the King's Head public-house, in Perrywinkle Street, Brook Street, Ratcliff; the landlord of the King's Head sent for me, and a man was given into my custody for breaking a square of glass—I told the landlord he had better summon him, and with that the man struck me in the chest—I then took him into custody for assaulting me—that was outside the house—I saw the three prisoners there—I was thrown down and dragged about twenty-five yards by my legs—I was kicked and bumped all the way—I still had hold of the man whom I first took in custody—when I was thrown down he was rescued from me—I went to the assistance of Sergeant Butt, who had Barrett in custody—Barrett had dragged me away from the man I had in custody—he knocked me down and knelt on my chest—he was punching me in the ribs—270 K came up and pulled him off me, and I then went again to Butt's assistance—we got as far as Stepney Causeway, and the mob began to throw flint stones and bricks at us—Barrett and Sullivan were there at the time—I did not see Sullivan do anything—I took a woman named Murphy in custody, who has since been discharged, and while I had her in custody Bayley picked up mud from the gutter and threw it in my face all the way to the station—I was smothered in mud from head to foot—several constables came up, and the three prisoners were taken into custody.
Bayley. Q. Did you not take me outside the station? A. Yes—I could not take you at the time because I had the woman Murphy in custody.
HERBERT BUTT (Policeman K 62). On Saturday evening, 6th April, I was present when this disturbance took place—I was in uniform, and Peed also—I received information of a row in Brook Street, and went there—I saw a crowd—I made my way through it—I saw Peed on the ground and several on the top of him—I asked the crowd to disperse and let the constable get up—some one said they were determined he should not get up—I told them I should draw my staff—some one said, "If you do we will kill you"—I was then struck a severe blow on the back of the head—I got Peed up and took the man into custody, and forced my way through the crowd with him as far as Harris's Court, when I was knocked down and kicked several times by persons in the crowd; I got up, still keeping hold of my prisoner—I saw Sullivan throwing stones, one of them struck Sergeant Freestone at the back of the head—I called out to Sullivan, "You blackguard, leave off throwing stones"—he took another stone from behind him, threw it, and hit me in the forehead and knocked me down insensible; it cut me, here is the mark now—Barrett was there and took part in the disturbance—I received another blow with a stone at the corner of the right eye—I then lost the prisoner that I had in custody; Barrett got hold of him, trying to rescue him from our custody, and he was leaning over Peed when I first went up—I saw Bayley in the crowd, but I did not see her do anything—I was taken to a shop by some gentlemen, and attended by Mr. Ross, the surgeon—I have been off duty ever since—the cut laid bare the bone; it was about two inches in length.
I went to Brook Street—I got half a brick on the chin, and another on the neck, and I was seized by three men—I said, "If you don't let me go I will draw my staff"—I did so, and made my way through them—I got into the middle of the mob—I found Peed and Butt on the ground, and about eight or nine upon them—I shouted out, "Stand off," two or three times—they would not, and I was ultimately obliged to beat them off—Peed and Butt then got up, and Sullivan threw half a brick at me, but I stooped—I said, "That will do for you, Mike"—as soon as I turned round I got another one, which cut my head, and laid bare the bone two or three inches—I bled a great deal—I turned round to look for Sullivan and he was moving off—I could not tell whether he threw it or not—in about half a minute afterwards I saw him at the left-hand side of the mob—he threw another brick, and hit Butt on the forehead and knocked him over—I am quite sure Sullivan threw it—I fought in the best way I could to keep the mob off as long as I could stand, I afterwards found myself in the doctor's shop—I was attended by a surgeon for three weeks—I did not gee Barrett do anything.
ISAAC BRANSLEY (Policeman K 111). I was present at the latter part of the disturbance—I saw Sullivan with half a brick in his hand, he threw it at Sergeant Butt, hit him in the forehead, and knocked him insensible—I took him into custody.
Sullivan. Q. Was I not ten or twelve yards off when you took me? A. No—you were about four yards from me when you threw the brick, and I took you on the spot at the moment—you did not see me at the time—I did not strike you—we were forced to use our staves.
CHARLES STROUND (Policeman K 270). I saw a large crowd in Brook Street—I went up and found Peed down on his back in the gutter, and Butt on his back in the middle of the road, about three yards from him—Barrett was kneeling atop of Peed, and several of the mob were kicking him—I was in uniform—I pulled Barrett off Peed, and assisted Peed up; I told him to go to the assistance of Butt, and I would take Barrett into custody—Barrett said, "I will see you b—before I will go with you"—several others gathered round and said I should not take him—I then drew my truncheon and said, "The first man that interferes with me in the execution of my duty, I shall strike him"—some one in the mob, said, "You had better go with him quietly"—I then fought my way through the mob with Barrett in custody—he did not resist after I got him out of the crowd—I took him to the station.
Barrett. Q. Was I not standing on the kerb with my hands down by my side when you took me into custody? A. No—you did not pay you would take my number—I did not see Sullivan or Bayley.
BARRETT and SULLIVAN— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months
BAYLEY— NOT GUILTY .
HERBERT STMONDS . I am a tin-plate worker, at 69, New Compton Street—about eleven o'clock on the night of 21st April, as I was coming round the corner of Great Russell Street into Bloomsbury Street, I saw the prisoner searching an old gentleman, quite grey-headed—he had him by the waist, and was scrimmaging about him—I hastened up and was within a yard of them when he wrested the umbrella from out of the old gentle man's hands, and threw him down on the pavement—I gave chase to the
prisoner through several streets—I could not run as quickly as he did—the constable took him, and I met him and the policeman coming back again—I told the constable what he had done, and he was taken to the station—we went to look for the old gentleman, but could not find him—we found the umbrella in the railings of a false area, in the direction the prisoner ran—he threw it away while I was chasing him—the prisoner said at the station that he had had a quarrel with two chaps, that they wanted to do something to him, and he was running away from them.
Prisoner. Q. Did you lose sight of the man you were running after? A. Just as you went round the corner I lost sight of you, but before you were at the end of the street I caught you again—I am sure you are the same man, by the billycock hat and the coat done up in that style, and everything—I was within a yard of you when you threw the old gentleman down—he was a helpless old man, and you threw him down by sheer strength—I kept sight of you all the way except at the corners of the streets.
WILLIAM FARLEY (Policeman G 169). On 21st April I was on duty in the neighbourhood of Bloomsbury—I saw the prisoner run by me, he crossed the street—I heard some one call out, "Stop him"—I gave chase to the prisoner, and stopped him in Southampton Street—I said, "What are you running for?"—he said, "I had a quarrel with two men, let me go"—I told him I did not believe him—I was taking him back in the way he ran, and met the last witness, who told me he had thrown an old man down—the prisoner said he did not, he had had a quarrel with two men—I took him back to the place where the witness said the old gentleman was thrown down; he was gone—I took the prisoner to the station, then went and searched the streets in the way he had run, and found this umbrella over some railings in Market Street—next morning the prisoner said, "What a fool I must be to run after that man in front last night!"—there was no man running but the prisoner, the witness was some distance behind.
Prisoner. Q. Did I make any resistance? A. No, you were too much out of breath—I have not been able to find the old gentleman.
Prisoner's Defence. I was walking up one of the streets; I had had a drop to drink; I heard a man sing out, "Stop him!" I was running. As for seeing the old gentleman, I did not, nor take any umbrella. I know nothing of it.
GUILTY .— Confined Four Months.
CATHERINE FOX . I am the wife of Walter Fox, bootmaker, of 33, Church Street, Shoreditch—on 22nd April, between seven and eight in the evening, I was standing at my door when a band was passing—Shepherd stood convenient to me at my door while the band was passing—he put his hand into my pocket and took out what was in it, a pocket handkerchief, a silver thimble, and between 5s. and 6s. and some coppers—I laid hold of him by the collar of his coat, when the money dropped—he said, "What have I done?"—I said, "You have robbed me of my money"—he said, "No, I have not, let me go"—I said, "No, not while I have life; I will give you to the police"—I held him until assistance came belonging to the society where my husbaud was passing—my
husband came up, and we gave him to the police—I did not see the other prisoner.
WALTER FOX . On 22nd April, in consequence of some information, I ran towards the door of my house—I saw Shepherd in the grasp of my wife—I asked her what he had done—she said he had robbed her—I laid hold of him—shortly afterwards Bryan tried to rescue him—I did not hear what he said, only "Let go" as he was trying to rescue Shepherd; he put his hand to my breast, I tried to push him away from my grasp—one of the society came up, and he was given into custody.
WILLIAM BYRNE . I am a labourer at Green's Yard, Upper East Smithfield—I was in the procession passing by Fox's house, and saw Mrs. Fox having hold of Shepherd—I saw Bryan run up and try to rescue Shepherd—I went and took hold of him.
JOHN ISAACS . I live at 3, John Street, Cannon Street East—I saw Mrs. Fox having hold of Shepherd—I helped to hold him—Bryan came up and said, "Here is a pogue on him"—I saw him snatch the medal from Fox—he tried to rescue Shepherd—I helped the constable to secure him, and he kicked me a good deal.
JOHN REEVE (Policeman H 105). On 22nd April I was on duty in a back street in Shoreditch—I saw a band pass—directly after I saw a mob rushing the other way—I ran down, and when I got to the corner I heard a cry of "Rouse"—that means rescue the prisoners, or something of that sort—there was a gang of thieves there—I saw the two prisoners struggling with the prosecutor and Isaacs—I took both in custody, one by each hand, and kept them in custody till I got the assistance of another constable.
Bryan's Defence. I'was coming through the street, and saw a mob of persons, and a lot of people saying, "Let him go." I shoved up against this gentleman and said, "Let the man go; what has he done?" I never kicked the man; the policeman and the other man were kicking me.
BRYAN— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted in August, 1865; to this he PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution, and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
MARY ANN HOWARD . I reside at 13, Hayward Street, Shoreditch—on Saturday night, 6th April, I was at the Red Lion public-house—the prisoner came in while I was there; he was not quite sober—we had a few trifling words—I called to James Ellis, and he interfered—I believe they went outside—I afterwards saw Ellis in the chemist's shop, with his head bleeding—I don't know whether he had any wound before he went outside; I did not see any.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not see when he fell down by the door? A. No.
THOMAS TOLLIDAY . I am a bricklayer, of 1, Elm Cottages, Kingsland Road—on 6th April I was in the Red Lion public-house—Ellis and the prisoner were there—an altercation took place between them—I saw them come out and scuffle; they went down, the prisoner atop of Ellis—as they got up I saw the prisoner draw a knife and strike him on the top of the head with a hacking knife; the blood began to flow—a
man named Brown came and caught Ellis—the prisoner made his escape and took refuge in the dining-rooms opposite, and was apprehended by 131.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Ellis fall against the door? A. No—he was two feet from the door; I did not see a man named Ware there—Ellis did not strike the first blow—I have not said so. (The witness's depositions, being read, stated:—"I did see Jem Ellis strike the first blow.") I did not say so—I have never told anybody that I did not see any knife.
JOHN BROWN . I am a looking-glass maker in the Hackney Road—on 6th April I was at the Red Lion public-house, and saw Ellis and the prisoner on the ground—when Ellis rose from the ground he staggered backwards and said, "I am stuck in the head"—I asked him who did it—he said, "That man"—I saw no knife and no blow struck.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Tolliday there? A. Yes—he was on the other side of the bar—I saw an iron bolt in the door with a piece of broken iron in it, projecting—I have seen it three or four times since this occurred—I can't say whether Ellis fell against that—I did not see him till he was on the ground. James Ellis. I am a painter, and reside at 14, Ely Street—on 6th April I was at the Red Lion; I was sober—the prisoner was there—Mary Ann Howard called to me for assistance—I went to her assistance, and tried to prevent the prisoner striking her—he was in the act of striking her, and I received the blow on my face—we struggled and fell between the counter and the door—I was picked up by some one, I can't remember who—we got outside, and then saw the prisoner rush into the eating-house opposite—I was bleeding, and was taken to a chemist's to have my head dressed—I first found that I was bleeding as I was getting up from the struggle; that was after he had struck me—I felt the blow as I fell down—I could not say whether I struck my head against the door as I fell.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you said at the police-court that you did not wish to press the charge? A. I did.
EDWARD PITTS (Policeman N 131). On 6th April I saw a crowd in front of the public-house, and saw Ellis bleeding from the head—I went to the cook shop opposite and took the prisoner into custody—I told him a person was stabbed, and I should have to take him to the station—he said he sought refuge in the cook shop from the crowd. Henry Sedgwick. I am a surgeon, of 79, New North Road—on 6th April I was called to Ellis—he had a wound across the top of the head, extending from the inner front part of the ear directly across—it was about three-quarters of an inch long—it was a long incised wound, but in the middle slightly lacerated; the two ends only were incised—it must have been done with a blunt instrument of some kind—I should not think a broken bolt of a door would do it; the head of a screw might, or a blunt knife.
Cross-examined. Q. If he had fallen sideways against a jagged piece of iron, would not that have done it? A. I can't say; a very sharp pointed piece of iron would have done it if it was parallel to the head—I have since looked at the bolt and found a screw projecting about three-quarters of an inch—the head of the screw projects about half an inch—that was the most likely thing to cause it.
Witness for the Defence.
DANIEL ATKINS . I keep the Red Lion, at Hoxton—I saw the prisoner and prosecutor struggling at my bar and locked in each other's arms—I saw no knife in the prisoner's hand; if he had had one I must have seen it—I saw them fall, and the prosecutor's head went against the bolt of the door; it made me shudder at the time—it was a violent fall—there were about fifty persons in the house.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Monday, May 6th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
EMMA TAYLOR . I am barmaid at the King's Head and Eight Bells, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea—on 27th March the prisoner came for threepennyworth of brandy and a twopenny cigar—he gave me a crown—I gave him change, four shillings, a sixpence, and a penny—I laid the crown on the sideboard with other silver, but there was no other crown—lie went away directly—I went to dust the sideboard, and found that the crown was bad—I laid it on one side, and showed it to Potter next day, and gave it to him on the Sunday following—I marked it with my initials—I had no other crown during that time.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you say that you put it with other silyer, and the master took the other silver away? A. No—I did not say that I put 4s. 6d. of my own to the master's silver, so that he should not know it.
SARAH RUTH LEWIS . I am the wife of Edward Lewis, who keeps an outfitting shop in Park Walk, Chelsea—on March, about half-past nine in the evening, the prisoner came in with a woman and another man—the gas was alight—the other man bought a powder puff for 6 1/2 d.—he gave me a crown—I put it away and gave him the change—I had no other crown, there—the man and woman went out, taking the puff with them; the prisoner then asked for a puff of the same description—I put one in paper, and he gave me a half-crown—I asked him if he had a halfpenny, and, having a suspicion, I put the coin in the detector and broke it in two—I held it up and asked him if he knew what he had given me—he said that he never had given it to me—he took it and kept it, but I kept a piece of it, which fell behind the counter, and gave him in charge—I afterwards found that the crown was bad—the prisoner said that he had never seen the other mau before, but if I liked he would run after him.
Prisoner. Q. Was the man in the shop when I came in? A. Yes and the woman; you followed them in immediately.
Prisoner's Defence. I know nothing about the charge of 30th March. I never was in Chelsea on Saturday night. I put down a florin to pay for a scarf, and the man said that it was a bad half-crown. I said that it could not be, for I had not a half-crown in my possession.
GUILTY .— Confined Fifteen Months.
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and STRAIGHT conducted the prosecution.
WILLIAM DAVIS . I am assistant to Mr. Howell, of Rochester Row, Westminster, stationer—on 23rd February I serred the prisoner with some note paper and envelopes, which came to 4d.—she gave me a bad half-crown—I told her it was bad, and asked her where she got it—she said she was an unfortunate, and a gentleman gave her 5s. that afternoon—I said, "Well, look; perhaps the other one is bad"—she said, "Oh! I have been home to tea"—a policeman came in and I gave her into custody with the half-crown.
WILLIAM TAYLOR (Policeman 231 B). I received the prisoner and this half-crown—she said that a gentleman gave it to her—she was taken to the police-court, remanded, and ultimately discharged—she gave her name Mary Morton.
THOMAS COLLINS . I am a butterman, of 84, Hill Street, Lisson Grove—on 9th March a female came in, wearing a veil which concealed her face—she asked for a quarter of a pound of fresh butter, which came to 4d., and gave me a bad florin—I asked her where she got it—she said she did not know—I called in 211 D and gave him the florin—he broke it and threw it away—I let the prisoner go—on 13th April she came again between nine and ten in the evening—she came again for half a pound of beef sausages which came to 3d., and gave me a florin—I tried it and found it vry soft—the prisoner saw me bending it and said, "Do not bend it, I can pass it at the butcher's"—I gave her in custody with the florin, but before that she opened her purse and 1 saw several florins in it.
Prisoner. I did not ask you to give it to me back, that I might pass it again; I said, "I know where I got it, and can get it changed." Witness. I am sure you said, "At the butcher's."
CHARLES PASSMORE . On 9th March I was at Mr. Lewis's shop and saw the prisoner there—she lifted her veil and I recognised her—Mr. Collins gave me a bad florin—I bent it between my teeth—it was very soft, and I broke it in several pieces and threw it down on the dust—I have not the least doubt the prisoner is the person—she lifted her veil as she went out.
Prisoner. I deny being in the shop before—it is a great falsehood. Witness. I identified you at the station before I saw the prosecutor.
THOMAS DORKINS (Policeman 218 B). On 13th April I received the prisoner in charge, with this florin—as we went out at the door she turned round and passed her right hand over my right shoulder; she had something in her hand—there were 400 or 500 people there, and she threw something in the direction of the crowd—I afterwards searched, but found nothing—at the station she gave up a good florin, a purse, and a farthing—she gave her name Annie Ward, but would not give any address.
The prisoner produced a written defence, stating that she did not ask Collins to give the coin back, which, was given to her by a gentleman, and denying being in the house before.
GUILTY .*— Confined Twelve Months on the First Count, and Twelve Months on the Second, the second sentence to commence at the expiration of the first.
470. JOSEPH ROGERS (19), JOHN GREEN (16), and ROBERT SOAMES (16) PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of Richard Matthews, and stealing therein twelve shillings in silver and copper, his property. ROGERS**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. GREEN.— Confined Fifteen Months. SOAMES.— Confined Twelve Months.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, May 7th, 1867.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Upon MR. POLAND'S opening of this case the Court was of opinion that it was too slight to go to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. SLEIGH and STRAIGHT the Defence.
TIMOTHY CARROLL (City Police Constable). On the night of 12th April I was on duty in Wood Street, Cheapside, in plain clothes—I saw the prisoner there; he was coming out of one of the doorways in Wood Street—I saw him go into another one, and, having suspicion of him, I watched him—I saw him go into several doorways; I got into a doorway myself—I saw him put his hand into a letter-box—I further watched him into Cheapside—I then saw him put his hand into the letter-box of Mr. Foster, wine merchant, at the corner of Bread Street, Cheapside—I watched him from there down Cheapside to Bow Lane—in Bow Lane I saw him go into two doorways—I could not see what he did there, because it was dark—I followed him down Bow Lane to the corner of Watling Street—I went up to him and told him that I was a police officer, and I should take him into custody on the charge of attempting to steal letters from letter-boxes—he said nothing—I took him to the station, searched him, and found on him a rough draft of a will, a power of attorney, and a letter directed to Mr. Muter, 17, Pinner's Hall, Old Broad Street—he was asked how he come there—he said he was waiting for a young man named Walker, who worked at Sturt and Sharp's, Wood Street—I found on him some circulars of Beard and Son, 17, Pinner's Hall; he said they were his father's—he was asked by the inspector to give an account of the power of attorney—he gave no account of it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he tell you that he had an appointment with Walker? A. Yes—he did not say that while he was waiting for him a man came up and asked him if he could direct him to a tobacconist's shop, and told him that he was very hard up for money, and asked him to lend him half a crown till Monday—he said at the Mansion House that he bought it
for half a crown, as it bore a five-shilling stamp—he did not say that on the night he was taken into custody—there was no one else present but myself when I took him into custody—he said what I have stated—he did not say at the station-house that he had got this from a man in the street—the inspector was present there, the acting sergeant, and the reserve man; they are not here—I found a person named Walker at Sturt and Sharp's; I have subpœnaed him and he is here—I did not see the prisoner near their door at all—I saw him at 115, Wood Street—Sturt and Sharp's is No. 89.
MR. POLAND. Q. Who was it said that he had bought the five-shilling stamp for half a crown? A. The prisoner said that.
JURY. Q. You say the prisoner put his hand into the letter-box; was it a letter-box that a person could put his hand in and take anything out? A. Yes—I examined the letter-boxes afterwards; one of them was five inches and a quarter long and half an inch wide, so that I could have put my hand in—I do not know the depth of the box—I saw his hand in two boxes.
HOLMES GORE . I am assistant clerk to the Lord Mayor—I took the depositions when the prisoner was examined on this charge on the first day—after the examination had been taken, Alderman Carter was about to remand the prisoner; it was suggested to the Alderman that he might perhaps give some explanation, and I think the Alderman said, "Should you like to say anything? I am about to remand you"—I took down what he said—I am trusting to my memory, and I believe I have a good one to trust to—he said, "What I stated to the officer is quite correct; there have been four letters wrongly addressed, delivered at our place lately; that post-letter is one of them"—a remark was then made by the Alderman about the papers, and the prisoner said, "I purchased the deed of a man in the street for half a crown, observing that it bore a five-shilling stamp, and thinking it was of greater value."
Cross-examined. Q. Is not this what he said, that he lent a man half a crown on the security of the deed? A. No—I am positive that he used the word "purchased" or "bought"—he said nothing before the Alderman except what I have stated—I heard him make no other statement.
ANN SELINA HARTREY . Early in April last I was staying at Albert Villas, Gloucester, on a visit—I live at 2, Park Villas, Plumstead Common—I received this power of attorney by post, about the 4th or 5th April, filled up ready for execution—I executed it in the presence of Miss Howell and Mr. William Henry Howell—it was then put into an envelope, sealed, and directed to Mr. Wetenhall, 13, Copthall Court, London, and was given to Miss Howell's servant to post—I was told on my arrival in London that it had not been received.
MARY THOMAS . I am servant to Miss Howell, of Albert Villas, Gloucester—on the 5th April a letter was given to me by Mrs. Hartrey—I do not remember to whom it was addressed—I posted it—it was rather a long letter, with two stamps on it.
GEORGE ARTHUR MASON . I am clerk to Mr. Wetenhall, stock broker, 13, Copthall Court, London—this power of attorney was sent out from our office to Mrs. Hartrey—we never received it back, and heard nothing of it till the prisoner was in custody—it contains the address of H. H. Wetenhall, Stock Exchange, and Mrs. Hartrey's address at Plumstead—we had a letter-box in the street door at our place, into which letters were put—
the housekeeper opened it every morning, and separated the letters—we have since had that letter-box removed and a new one pat—this is the letter box (produced)—it was a general letter-box for all the offices.
TIMOTHY CARROLL (re-examined). The pavement in front of Mr. Foster's premises in Cheapside is about seven feet wide, and there is a lamp almost opposite the door; where I saw him put his hand distinctly into the letterbox was at 123, Wood Street, where there is a lamp directly over the door—I followed him for the purpose of substantiating my charge, to see him take a letter out of the box—I did not see him do so, on account of some of the doorways being dark.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
JOEL EMANUEL . I am an attorney at 5, Austinfriars—about 9th April I sent a rough draft of a will to a client at Southampton—I never saw it again till it was brought to me by the detective—this is it—here is also a letter attached to it, dated 10th April, in my client's writing—posted the letter myself.
TIMOTHY CARROLL . (The evidence given by this witness in the last case was read over and assented to by him.) The prisoner gave no account of these papers—he was asked about them—these letters were not attached to the draft will when I found it—they were loose in his pocket among other papers—I pinned them together—they were found on him, and this draft will also; I have examined the letter-box at Mr. Emanuel's, and measured it—it is 5 1/4 inches long and half an inch wide—I could put my hand in it.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean that you could put your hand right into the letter-box? A. Not into it, but quite inside the hole.
In the absence of any evidence as to the receipt of, or transmission of the letter from Southampton, the Court was of opinion that there was no case to go to the Jury.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS SAMUEL ELVIN . I am a general dealer, and live at 50, Went-worth Street, Spitalfields—about half-past four in the afternoon of 4th April I was going down George Yard, Whitechapel, with my barrow—I had some Dutch plaice on it for sale—four men came up to me, the two prisoners were two of them, and there was Thomas Gough and another not in custody—before they came to me they said, "Let us throw his fish oft his board, and if he says a word to us we will punch his head"—Richard Bryan and Gough said that—Richard Bryan came up to the plaice, took it off, and threw it into the road, and Gough as well, and the other two; the four of them—there was some in a basket in mj barrow—they threw that off, and threw some right in my face—I was nearly opposite a lodging-house, between that and Mr. Adey's, the wheelwright—I shoved them away and said, "Be so kind as to let my things alone; if you don't I shall have to cut your fingers with my knife"—with that I took my knife up in my baud, and Gough came behind me and pulled the knife right between, my thumb and forefinger, and pulled it out of my hand—this is it (pro
duced)—Richard Bryan pulled out a knife at me and swore he would have my life—it was a pocket-knife which he pulled out of his pocket, and he, Gough, and the one not in custody, ran up George Yard after me, while I was running for an officer—I saw the knife in his hand then—I ran into Mr. Adey's for protection, and a brick was thrown in after me—I had to go as far as Commercial Street before I could find a constable; that was I 26—I gave Gough and John Bryan into custody—Richard Bryan got away—I saw Izzard there—I did not see him stabbed—I went for more officers.
John Bryan. Q. Did you see me chuck your fish off the barrow? A. Yes, and in my face; I swear that—I did not call you all scamps—I said, "Go away from my barrow;" that was after you threw the fish from my board—I took up my knife for my own protection: I did not use it to any of you.
Richard Bryan. Q. How could you see me with a knife when you were running for the policemen? A. Because I turned my head round.
WILLIAM IZZARD (Policeman 133 H). On the afternoon of 4th April I was called to George Yard, Whitechapel, and Gough and John Bryan were given into my custody by Elvin—I took hold of them—126 H was close by at the time—John Bryan resisted; he threw himself down, and said he would not go for six like me—I had given Gough up to 126—Richard Bryan tried to get John away; he tried to pull him away first, and then he slipped behind me with a knife in his hand and stabbed me in the back—John Bryan had struck me in the face just about the same time, and bit me on the back of my hand—I saw the knife in Richard's hand, and felt it too—I saw him pass me with a knife in his hand before—there was no one else close to me at the time; I am quite sure Richard is the man in whose hand I saw the knife—he got away after that—I looked round when I felt the stab, and saw the knife in his hand, and he passed me directly, and I saw no more of him—John got away from me—I was holding him at the time I got the stab—it was in the back, on the right side of the spine—I had on a great coat, a tunic, and the cut went through those and through the leather portion of my braces, a cotton shirt, and three folds of a flannel shirt—when John Bryan got away from me I ran after him down George Yard, I got before him, and he ran back again, and was stopped by 126—I got hold of him again, and he was taken to the station—I pulled my truncheon out, and before I had hardly got hold of it John Bryan pulled it out of my hand and threw it away—it fell close to 126, and it was picked up and given to me—my wound was dressed by Mr. Phillips, the divisional surgeon.
Richard Bryan. Q. Did you see me stab you? A. I saw you close to me at the moment—I did not actually see you give the blow; there was nobody else near enough to do it—there were a great many people there, but no one but you near enough to inflict the wound—the nearest person to me was three yards off, I should say; I turned instantly on receiving the blow, and saw you with the knife in your hand—this is not the knife (looking at one produced).
THOMAS HALE (Policeman H 126). I saw a great number of people, I went through the mob and assisted my brother constable—he was stabbed while I was there, but I did not see it—I saw John Bryan strike him with his fist about the body—I did not see where Richard was at that time; a great number of persons were round Izzard at that time—I took Gough into custody and took him to the station—the mob tried to rescue John
Bryan from the officer—I did not see Richard do anything—I did not see the knife.
John Bryan. He says I struck the officer in the body, and the other says I struck him in the face—I struck him only once, and that was in the face.
Witness. I did not see him strike him in the face.
FRANCIS ROBINS (Policeman H 119). I took Richard Bryan into custody between eight and nine in the evening of 4th April, at a beer shop—I charged him with stabbing police-constable Izzard—he said he never stabbed the constable, but he was there when Boss's hand was cut (Elvin goes by that nickname)—I searched him—I found no knife on him.
Richard Bryan. Q. Did you not ask me whether I had a knife upon me at the time, and did not I tell you a straightforward story? A. You never said anything about a knife—this knife was given to me afterwards by Clitheroe; you told me he had it—you said, "The knife I had, Clitheroe has got; I lent it to him to eat his supper with"—that was next day, after we had been to the police-court.
EDWARD CLITHEROE . I live 1, George Street, Spitalfields, and am night watchman at a lodging-house there—I know Richard Bryan—I was coming up the street with my tea-things in my arms when this disturbance took place—Richard Bryan was standing at the corner of George Yard just as I saw the police taking two of them to the station—I went up to him and said, "You had better come home, and I will give you some tea"—George Pollard followed him—I had got hold of Richard Bryan to take him away—Pollard said, "Will you let him go?"—I said, "No"—he said, "If you don't I will serve you the same as I have served the policeman," and he made a cut at my coat and cut me here, instead of going through my arm—I got Bryan in doors—I had got no knife to use for myself, and I asked him to lend me his, and he gave it me and went out, and I did not return it to him again—this is the knife, the little blade is broken—I afterwards gave it to Robins—I understand that Pollard has got three months in the. House of Correction, Holloway—I knew him before—he has often threatened, if I did not leave Bryan alone, he would do me an injury—he tried to put a knife into me that night; he was drunk—I was called a fool for not hitting him—I said I would wait till I saw him sober, but I never saw him from that day to this.
GEORGE BAXTER PHILLIPS . I am divisional surgeon to the police—about five o'clock on 4th April I was called to examine Izzard at the station—he had an incised wouud, between two or three inches in length, on the right side of the spine, in the lower dorsal region—it was an inch in depth in the centre—it had passed through his over-coat, his tunic, the leather portion of his braces, three or four folds of his flannel shirt, and also a coarse grey shirt—it must have been a severe stab—it was a dangerous wound of itself, and would have been much more dangerous had it not been impeded by so much clothiug—it could scarcely have been produced by such a knife as this; it is possible it might be, but it would have required very great force—this is a blunt instrument, and the wound was a very sharp-cut one—it was a wound which a pocket-knife would produce.
John Bryan's Defence. I am not guilty of injuring the policeman. I struck him to save myself from getting beaten. I held my hand up, and it hit him in the face, but not to hurt him.
Richard Bryan's Defence. The first policeman states there was no crowd round him, and the other one says there was a great crowd trying to rescue John Bryan; they were so packed together that he could not move his prisoner away. He says he did not see me stab him. I gave a straight-forward account about the knife, and told the policeman where to find it. A knife was taken from George Pollard by a young man who would not appear, because he knew him. I saw him take it from him, and I believe it has since been done away with. If any witnesses are here I should like them to be called.
FREDERICK GAERINGER . I am a publican—I came out of my house when the disturbance was three parts over—I saw the two constables having one prisoner in each hand, John Bryan and another one—one of them got away and ran down George Yard—they got the assistance of some other police and caught him again, and took him off—I saw Richard Bryan standing among the mob like the rest, and lie walked up the street quite cool, as if it did not concern him at all—I did not see the policeman stabbed.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see him stagger back? A. Yes, afterwards—Richard Bryan was not close to him at that time—I could not say who was, there were so many round—I did not see the constable bleeding—I saw the one who is not here struggling with the constable.
JAMES JOHNSON . I am a costermonger—I saw nothing of the disturbance—about an hour after it I saw George Pollard with a knife—I took it out of his hand—I have it in my pocket (producing it)—I took it from him in case he should do further injury, and kept it ever since.
Cross-examined. Q. Where was it you saw Pollard? A. In Flower and Dean Street—I don't know the time exactly; it was some time in the evening—I know, it was after the row, because he said he had done it, and that was the knife he had done it with—he was drunk—I had a tussle with him to take the knife from him—he had it open in his hand—there were two or three stone sawyers present—I saw him next day, and he asked me for the knife, but I would not give it to him—I saw him three or four times afterwards—he only asked me for it once—I don't what has become of him—I know him by seeing him—I know Richard Bryan.
COURT to WILLIAM IZZARD. Q. Is this more the length of the knife that you saw? A. No, that is not the knife either; it was a longer knife than that, and it looked as if it was used more than that.
NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY of an assault. JOHN BRYAN**— Confined Fifteen Months. RICHARD BRYAN— Confined Four Months.
GEORGE BAXTER PHILLIPS (Surgeon). I examined Elvin's hand; he had an incised wound between the thumb and forefinger, it had severed the web to a considerable extent, it had not reached the muscle, it was such a wound as would be caused by drawing the knife through his hand.
GOUGH*— GUILTY of unlawfully wounding .— Confined Twelve Months .
JOHN BRYAN and RICH ARD BRYAN— NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT BANYARD . I am a baker at Brentford End, Ealing—on 12th April I went to bed about a quarter-past ten, having seen all the doors and windows secure, and some harness that I had purchased the week before hanging in the kitchen—I was called up by Field in the morning, and found the harness gone—this produced is it—a nail had been pushed out of the window, but the window was shut down again.
JOHN EDWARDS (Policeman T 82). About half-past two in the morning of 13th April I was on duty in New North Road, Ealing—about twenty yards from the prosecutor's house my attention was attracted by a noise as if a window was lifted up—I stood about ten minutes, and then saw the prisoner coming in a direction from where I heard the noise, with a sack—I spoke to him—he said he had got a bit of cloth that he had just picked up—I told him I was not satisfied, and he must go with me to the station—when we got into the main street he put it down, and said, "Let us see what it has got in it," and I saw this saddle, bridle, and reins.
JOSEPH FILED . I am a carpenter—I have been working at Mr. Ban-yard's—when I left on the evening of 12th April I left the harness hanging up, and I put a nail in the window to fasten it temporarily—I came at seven next morning and found the nail out and the harness gone.
Prisoner's Defence. I picked it up.
GUILTY . The Prisoner PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction, in Februaryy 1853.— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
THOMAS JEFFREYS . I am a travelling inspector attached to the missing letter department of the General Post Office—the prisoner was a letter-carrier employed in the south-west district at Pimlico, and his walk was the Wilton Place walk—on the afternoon of 29th April I went to the district office, and shortly after six the prisoner was brought into the postmaster's room—he was about to go out on the six o'clock delivery—I asked him to let me see all his letters—he produced from his pouch two bundles tied up, arranged for delivery—I looked over them, and said, "I believe you were on duty here between twelve and one o'clock to-day, and you went out on your delivery to Wilton Place walk at that time?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Did you see anything of a letter directed to Mr. E. J. Lance, hatter, &c, 12, Middle Row North, Knightsbridge, London?"—he said, "Yes; I delivered the letter at Mr. Lance's shopn—I said, "I am aware you delivered one letter there, but that is not the one I am speaking to you about"—he said, "I had but one letter for Mr. Lance"—I said, "There was another letter for Mr. Lance sorted to you, and you did not deliver it, and it was owing to so many complaints of letters being lost, containing stamps, notes, and other things, in your delivery that it was purposely sent to find out by whom they are taken"—he said, "I had but one letter for Mr. Lance, and that I delivered"—I then directed Rumbold the officer to search him, and raw him take from the inside of his coat pocket these two letters, one directed to Upper Charles Street, S.W.,
and another to Hunter Street, neither of them in his delivery; one contains postage stamps worth 1l. 9s. 6d., and the other stamps worth 11s.—I said, "How do you account for having these in your possession?"—he said, "I don't know anything about them"—I said, "It is very singular that they should have got into the inside of your coat pocket like that without your knowledge"—he repeated, "I don't know anything about them"—they bear the post-mark of the 29th—one was posted in London, and the other at Cheltenham.
Cross-examined. Q. Were they taken out of his pocket like this? A. They were not open then, they were opened before the Magistrate—I don't recollect seeing any paper taken from his pocket—there is only one postman on his round after the first delivery in the morning; there are three in the morning—the letter in question has never been found—there was no hesitation about his answering as to these letters.
HENRY RUMBOLD . I am an officer attached to the Post Office—I searched the prisoner by Mr. Jeffreys's direction—I took from his side pocket these two letters—I also found some photographs and a paper for a fraffle and a bill.
Cross-examined. Q. Were these letters quite by themselves in the pocket? A. They were—the raffle paper was in another pocket—I have the coat here.
ALFRED NEWMAN . I am an inspector of letter-carriers at the southwest district—the prisoner was employed there—on the afternoon of 29th April he was on duty there from about five minutes past four until about five minutes past six—it was his duty when the East Central bag arrived to cut it open, take the bundles out, open them, and place them before the stampers, and after they were stamped to clear them and pass them over to the sorters to be sorted—these two letters would have come in the East Central bag; it is not his duty to assist in the sorting, I can't say whether he did or not—after they are sorted they are cleared by a person appointed to clear them, and delivered to the letter-carriers to take out—these letters were not in the prisoner's walk, if they were missorted to him his duty would be to place them back to be resorted to their proper walks, he had no business to carry them out—he went out on his delivery about five minutes past six—I then communicated with Mr. Jeffreys.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know how many letters were sorted to his delivery that did not belong to it? A. No; as far as I know, these might have been the only two—the prisoner has been in the service about twelve years—he came with a good character—when first I knew him I always considered him a man of very excellent character—I have been told he is married—I have heard he has been taking care of a house of Lord Alfred Paget's, in Grosvenor Place, for the last five years.
ALEXANDER FORBES . I am a letter-carrier in the south-west office—I was on duty when the mail-bag arrived on 29th April, at 5.20—I stamped these two letters—the prisoner generally opened the bag, it was his duty to do so.
GEORGE BENNETT . I am clerk to Mr. Broughton, solicitor, of Finsbury Square—one of these letters, addressed to Mr. Ritches, is my handwriting—I saw it made up and 1l. 9s. 6d. worth of stamps put into it—Mr. Broughton sealed it—I directed it and gave it to Vaughau to post.
RICHARD OKEY . This letter is my writing—I enclosed in it 132 postage stamps, and posted it on the 29th, about a quarter to six in the morning, in a pillar-box at Cheltenham, as I went to work; that would be in time for the day mail to London.
The prisoner received an excellent character.— NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
481. JAMES JOHNSON (18) , to four indictments for uttering forged requests for the delivery of goods, having been before convicted.— Confined Eighteen Months. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
482. JOHN WILLIAMS (49) and EDMUND COOPER (51) , to stealing a pair of boots of Edward Nobbs, Williams having been before convicted. WILLIAMS Confined Eighteen Months. COOPER Confined Twelve Months. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
484. JOSEPH WILLIAMS (17), WILLIAM BROWN (17), and THOMAS WILKINSON (16) , to a burglary in the dwellinghouse of Thomas Barber, and stealing two pairs of boots and other articles, his property. WILLIAMS Confined Twelve Months. BROWN* Confined Fourteen Months. WILKINSON** Confined Eighteen Months. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, May 7th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
487. JOHN BATTS (21) was indicted for stealing one watch and chain from the person of Charles Cadge . When called upon to plead, he remained mute, and a Jury was sworn to try whether he was mute of malice or by the visitation of God, and upon the evidence of John Rowland Gibson, surgeon of Newgate Gaol, and William Rogers, a sub-warder, the Jury found the prisoner mute from malice, and the Court ordered a plea of NOT GUILTY to be entered for him.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES CADGE . I am an auctioneer, of 2, Colebrook Terrace, Mile End—on 2nd May, at eleven at night, I was in Fenchurch Street with my wife, and saw the prisoner coming towards us—he made a dash at my watch, grabbed it, and ran down a court with it—I followed, singing "Stop thief!"—this is my watch (produced)—here are my initials, C. C, on it—it is worth 2l. 10s., and the chain 15s.—the constable showed it to me at the station—I am sure the prisoner is the person.
RICHARD WILLIAM WHITE (City Police Inspector). On 2nd May, about eleven o'clock, I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and saw the prisoner running—I stopped him with the assistance of another constable, and said,
"Where are you going?"—he said, "All right, governor, I am just going home; we are having a lark"—he ran round the urinal, took a watch out of his trousers pocket, and threw it against the urinal—I picked it up, and Cadge came up and identified it—on the road to the station he said, "It is only a lark; I did not take the watch, it was only a game; I did not throw it there"—he said nothing at the station except joking.
The prisoner, being called upon for his defence, made no reply.
GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted.
RICHARD KEMBLE (Policeman 16 H). I produce a certificate. (Read:—"Clerkenwell Sessions, April, 1864. William Battson convicted of stealing a watch and guard from the person. Sentence.—Three Years' Penal Servitude") I was present; the prisoner is the person—he was in my custody—other convictions were proved against him.
GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. STRAIGHT defended Wilkins.
SAMUEL POWELL . I am an ironmonger's assistant, of 49, Arthur Road, Holloway—on 18th April, about ten o'clock, I was in Camden Road, Hol-loway, and met the prisoners—Wilkins asked me if I did not live in the Hornsey Road—I said, "No, I live in the Arthur Road"—he said that he thought he saw me passing along the Hornsey Road several times—I was under the impression that I know Wilkins, but afterwards found I was mistaken—he asked me to go into a public-house—they paid for one glass of ale and I paid for another—that was the first glass of liquor I had that day—we came out, and as I bade them good night I received a sudden blow—I cannot say which of them struck me—I was knocked down, and while I was on the ground I felt a tug at my watch-chain—I culled for assistance—my chain was broken, and the greatest portion of it taken away—I called for assistance—a gentleman came and they made off—I ran after them, but lost sight of them—a constable came up, and at his request we went round the neighbourhood and saw Wilkins in the Seven Sisters' Road putting his hand to his eyes—I went across to see if I could recognise him, and he ran away—I ran after him, gave him in custody, and said, "You are one of the party who stole my watch and chain"—lie said, "No, I was running after a fire"—I saw Evans walking with a constable—he said that he had been to a fire, and denied all knowledge of the robbery—I found my watch in my pocket—I was not quite sober, but I well understood what I was about—my head was slightly affected, as I cannot take much—I had never seen the prisoners before.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you a Londoner? A. Yes—I had two glasses of ale; Wilkins paid for one glass and I for the other—he called for a pot of six ale and paid for it, and I returned it—there was not more than one person in the public-house the whole time—no one came to me when I was knocked down, except one gentleman—I received a blow on the left side of my head and fell sideways—Wilkins was on my left and Evans on my right—the robbery was committed about eleven o'clock—I left my master's, in the Hampstead Road, about 9.30—I was in the prisoners' company about a quarter of an hour before I found out that I did not know them.
MR. DALY. Q. Did you feel the tug at your chain while you were
on the ground or while you were falling? A. While I was in the act of falling; Wilkins was the nearest to me at that time—my chain did not catch anything, because I was near the kerb.
ANTONY RYAN (Policeman 296 Y). About seven o'clock on the night of 18th April I heard a cry of "Police!" in Hornsey Road—I saw the prosecutor, and we went up the Seven Sisters' Road together—I saw Wilkins on the other side of the road, and told Powell to go in front of me, for if he saw us both together he would run away—he crossed to Wilkins, who ran away directly, but was stopped and given in custody, and charged with knocking Powell down and stealing his watch—Wilkins said, "You make quite a mistake; you never saw me before; I was going to a fire"—when he was taken to the station he said, "Yes, we were drinking with him at the public-house"—they said that another party attacked Powell—I found this piece of chain (produced)—it has been broken near the centre—Powell gave me this portion, which was attached to his watch—the centre portion is gone.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you the other portion of the chain? A. No—I had the prisoner in custody ten minutes afterwards—I went the way Wilkins came back—I had my uniform on, and directly he saw it he ran away from us—Powell was making a great deal of noise, hallooing "Stop thief!"—he found his watch in his pocket.
Evans. Q. After you had accused me did I say that I did not know you? A. You said you had been to a fire about an hoar, and denied all knowledge of seeing me that evening—I did not see three pots of beer drawn, only two—you asked me to meet you there again on Monday night, and I consented.
WILLIAM VAUGHAN (Policeman 264 Y). About two o'clock on 18th April I was on duty in Seven Sisters' Road—Evans, came up and asked me the way to Cottenham Road, and while I was directing him Powell came up and gave him in charge for stealing his watch and chain—he said that he had just come from a fire at the Holloway Hats and had not seen him before.
Evans. Q. Did I say I was going to a fire, or that I had been to one? A. That you had been to one; you did not say that it was at Cottenham Rood.
JOHN. GRIFFITHS . I am an auctioneer's clerk, I was at home in Hornsey Road, and heard a cry of "Stop her"—I saw a number of people round the prosecutor, but did not see Wilkins then—I spoke to the prosecutor, and some time afterwards saw Wilkins coming from Seven Sisters' Road into Hornsey Road towards me—he tried to escape the prosecutor's observation and mine, by putting his hand to bis eyes and his cheek as he walked away.
Cross-examined. Q. Were there about twenty people round the prosecutor? A. Yes—he was about twenty yards from the public-house.
MARGARET BISHOP . I am a widow, and keep the Tollington Arms, Hornsey Road—the prosecutor was in my shop, and the prisoners were with him—they had six ale to drink, but I cannot remember how much—I cannot say how many people were in the bar, because I was rather busy that evening—one of the prisoners was brought to my house afterwards, and I identified him as having been there with the prosecutor.
Evans. Q. Did not you serve us with two pots? A. Yes—I cannot whether my daughter also served you with one pot.
the charge was being taken—Evans said, "I know we were in the public-house with him, we spent a shilling"—Wilkins said, "I know I spent a shilling"—when the prosecutor was narrating the circumstances Evans said, "Instead of our assaulting him, some of his friends who he had lying in wait assaulted us; I was struck"—Wilkins then said, "I was kicked in the back."
NOT GUILTY .
MR. NICHOLSON conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID GIBSON . I am in the employ of Mr. Jones, of 18, Basinghall Street—on 3rd May, between three and four in the afternoon, I saw the prisoners in the yard; Coombs had hold of the handle of a truck, and Fitzpatrick was endeavouring to put a box on it—I said to Coombs, "What are you doing with the truck?" and he put it down and looked at the handle, where the name was, and said, "It is a mistake"—they both went away—I followed Coombs, and Bruce, who was with me, followed Fitzpatrick into Church Passage, and gave him in custody.
JAMES BRUCE . I am a warehouseman in the employ of Mr. Johnson, of Basinghall Street—on the afternoon of 3rd May I saw the prisoners in the yard; Coombs had the truck in his hand, and Fitzpatrick was putting a box on it—they were spoken to, and ran away—I followed Fitzpatrick and gave him in custody.
HENRY STONE . I am clerk to Frederick Cutten, of Basinghall Street—on 3rd May this box of boots (produced) was brought to our premises in a cab, it is worth 6l. 15s., and was put outside the office door till it could be taken away, but inside the outer door—I afterwards saw it still in the passage, but moved about a yard—I saw Coombs in charge of a policeman, but did not see Fitzpatrick till I was at Guildhall.
COURT to DAVID GIBSON. Q. Was the truck off the pavement? A. Yes, and the box was by the side of the door; Fitzpatrick was trying to put it on the truck, but before he ran away he put it inside the door again.
Coombs's Defence. I was passing down Basinghall Street, and a gentleman asked me to take a case into Bishopsgate Street. He told me where it was; I went up to get it, and just as I was going to turn it over, the two witnesses came up and said that it was their truck. I said that it was a mistake, and went down to see the gentleman, but was given in custody.
Fitzpatrick's Defence. I was looking for work, and this young man asked me to hold the handle of the truck, and I did so.
COOMBS— GUILTY .**— Confined Eighteen Months.
FITZPATRICK— GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LANGFORD the Defence.
EDWARD CLARKE . I am a labourer, of 3, Kimburton Street, Rotherhithe—on 17th April, about one o'clock in the night, I came out of the Kettle and Drum public-house, and saw the prisoner; he put his hand
behind him and drew a knife—I tried to prevent him drawing it, and in the struggle I felt I was stabbed in my left side—I only came out of the hospital on Saturday, and am not able to work yet.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen him in the Kettle and Drum? A. Yes, in front of the bar—I supposed he was going to draw the knife when I came out, and tried to prevent him doing any mischief—he had not been drinking with me.
COURT. Q. Did you fall on the knife, or did he strike you? A. He held his hand up, and struck me.
JOSEPH JUDGE . I am a labourer, of Rotherhithe—on 17th April, between one and two a.m., I was at the Kettle and Drum—I went outside, and heard Clarke say, "I am a dead man, I am stabbed"—I saw the prisoner on top of Clarke, and went to assist him—the prisoner had this knife in his hand—I caught hold of him, and he struck it through my trousers into my hip—he said nothing—a policeman came and took me to the hospital, and the prisoner was secured—I saw no quarrelling or fighting in the public-house.
JAMES ADAMS . I am house surgeon to the London Hospital—on 17th April I examined Clarke, and found a punctured wound of the loin, about an inch and a half long—it was not safe to examine its depth—he is not in danger now, but it is just possible that the wound might have been deep enough to wound some important part—such a knife as this would inflict the wound.
Cross-examined. Q. But it had not wounded an important artery? A. No—in my judgment it could not have been accidental.
GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM THOMPSON . I am an engine fitter, and live at the Sailors' Home, Whitechapel—on 13th April, about three in the morning, I was at the back of Dock Street, and saw the prisoner—he asked me where I lived—I said, "That is nothing to you"—then he asked me for some tobacco—I put my hand in my pocket for a stick of tobacco, and felt in my other pocket for a knife to cut it, on which he knocked me down, put his knee on my chest, and put his hand in my trousers pocket—he wanted to pull my purse out, but I held it tight—he got it from me and ran off—there was five or six shillings in it, a half-crown, and some small silver—the police ran after him—this is my purse (produced)—I had never seen him before, but there was a lamp, and I saw his features well.
JOHN BARON (Policeman 48 H). I heard a cry of "Police!" and saw the prisoner and prosecutor struggling—both fell together, and when I got within fifteen yards the prisoner got up aud ran away—I gave him chase—I saw him stopped by another constable—I am sure he is the man—I never
lost sight of him, only just going round the corner—I found on him a crown, a half-crown, and 4d.—I found this purse within a few yards from where I saw the struggle—the prisoner had passed close by that spot—I told him I took him for robbing a man of his purse—he said, "I did not rob him of anything, we had a tussle together."
Prisoner's Defence. I stole nothing from him.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, May 8th, 1867.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH WESTBURY . I live at Albert Street, Bromley, and am the wife of William Westbury, a shoe maker—on 24th April, about half-past five, I was passing a public-house in Arthur Street, and saw the prisoner with my son's finger in his mouth—I went up to him to take it out, and he drawed my finger into his mouth, and cracked the bone between his teeth—the blood gushed down his whiskers, and I fainted away.
Prisoner. Q. Was I not fighting with your son? A. I did not see you—I did not notice whether you were drunk, because I was so frightened—I have not been able to do anything since, and am in that state that I cannot bo left night or day.
Prisoner. Q. When I went into the beer shop did not you want me to come in for some-beer? A. No, I never spoke to you—I called for a glass of ale, and you struck me two or three times and bit me—I afterwards struck you and made your nose and mouth bleed—my brother did not come up and ill-use you.
COURT. Q. Had you provoked him? A. No: I had never seen him before—he was about half drunk—he could walk straight—he bit my finger to the bone, and also bit my shoulder through two shirts.
NATHAN BROWNFIELD . I examined the prosecutrix at the station—she had a compound fracture of the index finger of the right hand—there was a lacerated wound, which appeared caused by a bite—it is doing tolerably well now, but it will be some considerable time before it is quite well, and it will never be the same as before; the flesh is torn away from the bones.
JAMES BIRD (Policeman 238 K). I took the prisoner and told him the charge—he said, "Take me, policeman; do what you like with me; I have done nothing"—he walked very well without me holding him up, but he was the worse for drink—he asked me to let him walk by himself.
Prisoner. Q. Was I not blooding from the mouth? A. Blood was running down your whiskers, and there was a slight scratch on your check, as if from a finger nail.
Prisoner's Defence. I was very tipsy, or I should not have got info the
company I have. I am a seafaring man. I produce my discharge from the service.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding .— Confined Twelve Months .
MR. NICHOLSON conducted the Prosecution, and MR. DALY the Defence.
JOSEPH STEVENS . I am a brick maker, of Elizabeth Cottages, High Hill Terrace, Bow—last Friday week I was at work in a brick field at Bow—the prisoner came into the field and said, "Joe, you shall not give me a shift one night, would you?" and struck me—I tried to keep him off as well as I could—ho struck me several times, and I went down by the side of the kiln—he got hold of me by my throat and said, "Shall I give you a kick or a dicky?"—I do not know what that meant—I pushed his hands away, and he got up and kicked me on the hip—I was nearly strangled, but I got up and took the shovel in my right hand—he said, "What are you going to do with that?"—I said, "I do not know"—he then took up a peck, laid hold of me by the left shoulder, and said, "Shall I kill the b—?"—I suppose he knocked me down with it, for when I came to myself I was on my hands and knees and saw him going away—he was not sober, but I was—I had been at work all night and all day.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you been in the Lady Franklin public-house with him? A. Yes—I only had one glass of ale there, but had not been drinking with the prisoner—I do not know Philip Parham—I did not quarrel with the prisoner—ho asked me to stand half a gallon of beer, and I said that I should not—he gave me a back-handed blow—we did not then have a fight—I never put my hands up—he did not knock me down there, but in the brick field, 200 yards off perhaps—I went there by myself to do my work, und he came after me—I went into the brick field by the gate, which was open, but some one locked it afterwards—I tried to keep tho prisoner off all I could, but it was all open-handed.
MR. NICHOLSON. Q. Were you using the shovel in your avocations; was it the thing you were working with? A. Yes, I use the pick occasionally.
JOHN MEARS . I am a labourer, of 31, Lefcvre Road, Bow—I was in the brick field, and saw the prisoner get over the gate, at about half-paat six in tho evening, and go up to Stevens—I did not take a deal of notice of him nt fust, but I heard him wrangling about some beer, and he knocked Stevens down—Stevens got up again, and the prisoner knocked him down again, and put his knee on his belly and his hauds on his throat, and said, "Shall I put dicky on the b—?" which means, strangle him—he then got up and took the pick in his hand, held him with one hand, shoved him against the kiln with the other, struck him with the pick, and he fell—Stevens tried to keep all the blows off that he could, but he had no chance"—he had his shovel in his hand at one time, which he gets his living by—he was sober, but the prisoner was not—tho prisoner had been discharged from the field ou Friday, at dinner time; I do not know what for, but nothing to do with the prosecutor.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you a friend of Stevens? A. I have known him a week or a fortnight, since he has been there—I did not work with him but I have worked in the same field five weeks—Stevens picked up the shovel from the ground, and it stood up against the kiln—I do not know what made him take it up, and I did not see him take it up—I did not see Stevens seize him by the handkerchief.
ROBERT MEARS . I am a labourer—on 27th April I was in the brick field at Bow, and saw the prisoner pulling Stevens about in rather too rough a manner for play—he knocked Stevens down, who got up, and the prisoner knocked him down again, put his foot on him, and said, "Shall I kill the b—?"—he repeated that twice, and when he got up he struck him with the pick and left him for dead.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Stevens using the shovel? A. Ho was using it to put coke on the fire for the bricks—when he got the shovel he wanted to go about his work, but the prisoner would not let him.
TIMOTHY ENWRIGHT (Policeman 315 K). I was on duty by this brick field, and the prisoner was given into my custody—I saw Stevens; he was wounded on the left temple by this coal-pick, as I was told (produced); he was taken to the hospital—the prisoner said that he was very sorry.
CORNELIUS EDWIN GARMAN . I am a surgeon, of Fairfield Road, Bow—on 26th April I was called to the Bow Police-station, and found Stevens with a contused wound over his left temple, which could be done with a blunt instrument like this pick—it was not severe in depth or in extent, but it was very much swollen, and it was a stellated wound—it was not dangerous—he was quite sensible—he was sent to the hospital and is still weak—there was a great loss of blood, but the bone was not fractured—he appeared sober.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM PARHAM . I live at 1, Lefevre Road, and work in this brick field—I went to the Lady Franklin at twenty-five minutes past five to get a glass of ale, and saw Stevens come out with his nose bleeding—I stopped a few minutes and saw the prosecutor hit the prisoner with his left hand on the mouth—I went in and got my ale, and then went and locked the gates, as the watchman, to keep the prisoner out—I then went and sat by the corner of the kiln where Stevens was standing, he took up the pick in his right hand—I said, "Put it down; take your shovel, as if you were going to stoke your kiln"—I then said to him, "He is coming, Joe"—he held his shovel up, and the prisoner got over the gate and fell down—he got up again and went to Stevens—there was a little struggle, and I flew to fetch a policeman to take the prisoner up for trespass, and did not see the blow with the pick—in the first of the struggle Stevens held his shovel in his right hand, and had hold of the prisoner's neck like this—his shovel was not up in the air—the prisoner picked up the pick with his left hand—Stevens had hold of him by the neck when he picked it up.
GUILTY .— Confined Eighteen Months.
CHARLES RAINES . I live at 5, Trinity Buildings, Great Tower Street—on the night of 16th April I was on Tower Hill and heard cries of "Police!" and "Murder!" from a beer shop—I went in and saw three soldiers in the bar behind the counter, and the landlord was down on the floor; two soldiers had knocked him down—I stood alongside the counter and saw the prisoner pushing and pulling the people about—he then opened the till and put some copper money into his right-hand pocket, leaving a threepenny or fourpenny piece and a halfpenny, on the edge of the till—he did not put the till back again—I followed him and gave him in custody ten minutes or a quarter of an hour afteerwards.
Row—on the night of 16th of April there was a bit of a bother with a strange civilian who had never been in the house before—the prisoner and another one teller than him made a bother about taking the civilian's umrella, and he and another knocked my husband and another man down ind sent me up against the counter—the prisoner took the money out of the till, and I jumped over the bar and called, "Police!"—there was not much in the till, as I had taken all the large money out before.
Prisoner. I went in with my comrade, and the potman caught me by the throat and pushed me out of the house. Witness. The big one struck my husband, and I went to protect him, and the prisoner struck me on the mouth.
WILLIAM GILBERT (City Policeman 748). The prisoner was given into my custody by Raines at half-past ten o'clock, at the Prince Albert public-house, in Cooper's Row—I searched him, and found a shilling in copper, two threepenny pieces, and a fourpenny piece.
Prisoner Defence. I was in the house, but was never near the till. I was pushed into the road; you can see by my coat that I was pushed down. This man seized me by the throat and sent me out into the dirt. I went in again. Three or four soldiers and a civilian were fighting. There were ten or twelve soldiers in the house, and a number of loose women. They were fighting all over the house.
The prisoner's sergeant gave him a good character.
GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his character.— Confined Four Months.
HENRY CUMMINS (Policeman 347 K). On 13th April I was on duty in Barking Road about three o'clock, and saw the prisoner in the prosecutor's back garden, with two more men—I watched them ten minutes and saw them come towards the house—I concealed myself under a tree, and saw the prisoner open the washhouse window and enter—I followed him in, found him in the passage, and asked him what he was doing there—he said that he had come there for a sleep—the other two escaped.
JOHN STOCKWELL . I live in Barking Road—my washhouse communicates with the house—on the night of 13th April I saw the window closed, but I will not say whether the shutters were fastened—my attention was called, and I found that one or two things had been moved, but I missed nothing.
GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WRIGHT the Defence.
EDMUND APPLEYARD . I am a publisher, of 10, Lansdowne Terrace, Bethnal Green—on the night of 12th April I retired about twelve o'clock, having seen the basement windows secured and fastened—I came down at a quarter to seven, and found that an entry had been made at the basement window—I missed a chronometer, table-cover, some spoons, forks, and other articles, which were afterwards shown me by a policeman.
EDWARD PITTS (Policeman 131 N). I was on duty on 12th April in Victoria Park Road, in plain clothes, at a few minutes before six o'clock; that is a mile from Lansdowne Terrace—I met the prisoner carrying this bundle (produced)—asked him what he had got in it—he said some property
belonging to his wife and himself—I examined it and found this clock, a woman's dress, a tablo-cover, some child's clothes, spoons, forks, and three penknives—he was wearing this coat, which the prosecutor identifies—he gave several addresses—I asked him where he came from—he said from his lodging, 22, Clnrkson Street, Plaistow Marsh—I asked him where he was going—he said to 5, Charles Street, Ratcliff Highway, and that he worked at Mr. Mears's, at Milwall.
Cross-examined. Q. He did not hesitate to let you open the bundle? A. No—I know nothing against him.
JOHN BATTEN (Policeman 334 N). I examined the prosecutor's premises, and found that the inner part of the sash had been cut, which enabled the prisoner to get the window open—it projected over the area—it has no sash-lines, and the edge appeared worked out by a blunt knife—this knife (produced), which I saw taken from the prisoner's pocket, corresponds with the marks.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. WRIGHT conducted the Prosecution; MR. PATER defended Riley and McCarthy.
WILLIAM WEBB . I am a clock-maker at Clerkenwell Close—on Sunday morning, 7th April, between twelve and one o'clock, I was passing down Field Lane, and as I passed George Alley, Riley rushed on me, struck me on my breast, and knocked me down—the other two prisoners knelt on me, and with the assistance of others, who are not here, rifled my pockets—McCarthy and Carrick both knelt on me, and Carrick took my purse out of my waistcoat pocket—I was sensible all the time—I sung out, "Police!" lustily, which brought assistance—this is my purse.
Cross-examined. Q. Was any one in your compauy? A. No; I lodge in Field Lane, being slack of work and short of money—13, Clerkenwell Close, is my sister's house—I was perfectly sober—it was Saturday night or Sunday morning—I had come from Sckforde Street, Clerkenwell, where I had been spending half an hour at a public-house with three or four respectable mechanics—I left by myself—I left work at nine o'clock—I went into the beer shop at half-past ten, and remained till twelve—I had two pints of beer, but no spirits—they do not sell spirits—I did not say when the prisoners were remanded, that I believed that Riley was innocent, and that I would willingly compromise the matter—there were six or seven persons assembled—I did not count them—I have seen that man (Thomas Moore)—I lost some drills, screw-cutters, a scarf, and a purse, but no money.
GEORGE HAYNES (City Policeman 285). On Sunday morning, 7th April, about a quarter to one o'clock, I was on duty and heard cries of "Murder!" and "Police!" in the direction of Field Lane—I hastened to the spot, and saw the three prisoners and two others run down Field Lane, towards Holborn, away from Webb, who was lying on his back just at the entrance of George Alley—I caught McCarthy, and a private individual caught Carrick and Riley within 100 or 120 yards of the spot—I never lost sight of the prisoners, and I knew them before—I returned to the spot about five in the morning, and found this empty purse (produced).
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know of any row that took place about that time, a fight between a man and a woman? A. There was no disturbance
it all as far up as I could see—I must have heard it if there had been one ind I did not hear it—there was not another soul in the court.
COURT. Q. When you first saw them running away, how near to the irisoners were you? A. As near as I am to your Lordship—I came across the waste, and sprung over a hoarding almost into the midst of them—Webb had had a glass, but was quite sober, he kept up with us to Bagnigge Wells Road.
WALTER NEWTON . I live at 80, Snow Hill, and am assistant to a boot maker—on Sunday morning, 7th April, between twelve and one o'clock, was going home, aud heard a cry of "Police!" and "Murder!" in Field Lane—I ran across the waste in Field Lane, and saw the three prisoners rise from the prosecutor, and run up the lane—I gave chase, and caught tiley and Carrick—I saw Carrick throw something away—I took him to the policeman.
Cross-examined. Q. Had the prosecutor been drinking? A. Yes, but he was not so drunk that he did not know what he was about—he walked perfectly well—I saw two others running—they turned up the same court.
The prisoners' statements before the Magistrate were to the effect that the robbery was committed by a man called "Skinny."
MR. PATER called
JOHN DRISCOLL . I am a newspaper vendor, of 23, Field Lane—on 7th I April I was in Riley's company—I went out from my lodging-house about four or five minutes to twelve, and saw a row at the corner of Field Lane—Riley was then standing up against Gorman's, and this happened against I Green's, three or four yards off—he took no part in what was going on—after the row was up I saw the prosecutor, aided by a tall chap, not in! custody, who is called Skinny—his real name is Charley Scrimmage—he I first asked Webb for a bit of tobacco—Webb said he had none, on which Scrimmage caught hold of him and slashed him up against Green's shutters, aud then twenty or thirty boys rushed up from the ruins, but what they did I do not know—I saw Webb brought to the ground—Riley was then standing at a little distance with me, and I saw McCarthy standing at a little distance from us—he took no part in it—I heard a cry of "Police!"—Riley bid mo good night, to go to his mother's—he ran down Field Lane, and as he got to the top of the steps he was taken in custody—the cause of the first disturbance was a fight between two men—it was hardly two minutes after that, that Webb was attacked by Scrimmage—it was done in a moment.
Cross-examined. Q. What morning are you talking about? A. The 7th April; it was Saturday night, about four minutes to twelve—I had never seen Webb before—I took notice of him, because they were leading him—he seemed a little intoxicated, but I cannot say whether he was or not—Scrimmage is no£ a friend of mine—it had gone twelve when Riley left me—he was with me about five minutes only, just during the time of the occurrence, and I went down to my lodging-house directly—there were perhaps thirty or forty people at the first row, and when they dispersed Webb and Skinny came down—at the time of the second row there were only six persons until the twenty boys flew from the ruins—I saw the policeman and Newton give chase across the ruins—I did not go to the station with Riley—I knew that he was to be brought up at the police-court on Monday morning, but I had to go to my sitter's, who was very
ill—I did not go to the station and tell the police that he was taken up innocently—he was brought up twice at the police-court, and I was there on the second Monday after his remand, but I did not volunteer my evidence—I was not called, but we paid Mr. Lewis, the solicitor.
COURT. Q. You say "we" paid? A. Riley's mother paid it; I did not pay anything.
MR. PATER. Q. Were you there, ready to be called, if necessary? A. Yes; I was present when the money was paid, and I told Mr. Lewis that I would be there if necessary—Riley lives at the top of Union Court, Holborn.
THOMAS MOORE . I live at a lodging-house, 23, Field Lane, and get my living by a little assistance from the parish, and by calling the lodgers up—I have lost my sight for seven years, I knew the prisoners before that—I heard that they were taken in custody, and after their remand I went to where the prosecutor lodged, 19, Field Lane, to inform him of the unguilty persons at the bar, and that there was a tall man who struck him and knocked him down, who was not in custody—he said that he believed it to be true, and believed the person represented to him was the party who knocked him down, and that Riley was the unguilty party—he also said that if he got the price of his tools he would not prosecute.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you ever been in custody? A. Yes, seven or eight times for assaults—it was always for assaults, when I was intoxicated, before I lost my sight.
COURT. Q. How came you to go there? A. By other parties speaking about it, and saying that the three lads were innocent—I know that it was Webb I went to, because he answered me, and there were fifteen or sixteen lodgers in the room—it was between the 2nd and 14th April, during the remand.
COURT to GEORGE HAYNES. Q. Whereabouts is Union Court? A. George Alley, Field Lane, runs into it—you can go from George Alley into Union Court—Riley was running from George Alley towards Holborn; that would not be his way home—his way would be up George Alley—the Holborn end of Union Court is pulled down, and he could not get in that way—he must go in the other way.
GUILTY . RILEY**†and McCARTHY*— Confined Eighteen Months each. CARRICK**— Three Years in Feltham Reformatory.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, May 8th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. BESLEY and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY TAYLOR (the Prisoner). I have pleaded guilty to this indictment—I have known Randall ten years—he has been a porter at different places—on 18th February I was in the employ of Messrs. Yeatman and Co., hosiers, Regent Street—I left there, and Randall knew I had left and that I was out of work—I saw him frequently—I saw him three or four weeks after I left, it might be more—I told him I was going to the city to get some goods, and asked him to go with me, and we went—he went with me on more than
one occasion—we went to Tucker's, in Wood Street, and got some Cardigan jackets—Randall stopped outside—we pawned the things we got—sometimes I would pawn them and sometimes Randall would, at different places—I remember going to Messrs. Morley's and getting six merino shirts—Randall was not with me then, he was in work—I saw Randall about a fortnight before I was taken—Randall went with me to the city I should say about half a dozen times, perhaps more—I have seen these pawn tickets before (produced)—very likely I pawned more than half of them—I kept the tickets in my possession, and Randall used to give me his, but I afterwards gave them all back to him—we spent the money got from the pawnbrokers between us—we lodged together at a coffee-house—we had our meals together—sometimes I paid and sometimes he did—I know these tickets (produced)—they refer to merino shirts and Cardigan jackets—I cannot say where I got the shirts from—I signed in Messrs. Morley's books, sometimes in the name of Henderson, and sometimes Williams—on 4th April, when I got the Cardigan jackets from Messrs. Morley, Randall waited for me at the Post Office—I pawned those jackets the same day, one at Mr. Dobree's, one at Smith and Dymond's, in Newgate Street, and another at Mr. Lawley's, 78, Farringdon Street—Randall went with me to all those places, but he did not go into either of them—I do not recollect Leonard Wilson's, 253, Goswell Road—I only went to those places once.
COURT. Q. Did you tell him you were going to get the goods in the name of your former employers? A. No—I told him I was going to get them from the city, from the places where I used to get them from when I was in work—I did not say what was to be done with them until after I got them, and then we said we would pawn them—I proposed pawning them—I said, "We had better pawn these"—I do not recollect what his answer was, but we went and pawned them—I handed over the tickets to him, because my pockets had got holes in them—we went and pawned the subsequent goods as a matter of course.
THOMAS REEVE . I am assistant to Messrs. Smith and Dymond, pawnbrokers, 80, Newgate Street—this ticket, dated 4th April, corresponds with one which I have—it refers to this jacket, upon which I advanced 4s.—I do not know who pawned it, but the name given was, John Wilson, of John Street.
WILLIAM HENRY BUSS . I am assistant to Mr. Lawley, of 78, Farringdon Street, pawnbroker—I produce a Cardigan jacket, pledged with us for 4s. on 4th April—this is the ticket I gave, and it corresponds with one I have—I could not recognise the person who pawned it, but Taylor bears the most resemblance to him.
CHARLES BUNNING . I am assistant to Mr. Dobree, of 264, Strand, pawnbroker—I produce a Cardigan jacket, pledged for 4s. on 4th April—this is the ticket I gave, and it corresponds with the one I hare—I cannot swear to the person who pledged it.
THOMAS ASHLEY . I am a pawnbroker, of 27, Myddelton Street, Clerkenwell—I produce a shirt, pledged on 27th March for 2s. 6d., in the name of Henderson—this ticket corresponds with one I have—I could not speak with any certainty to the person who pledged it.
THOMAS JONES . I am assistant to Jones and Cox, 27, Prince's Street, Leicester Square, pawnbrokers—I produce a shirt, pledged on 30th March for 2s. 6d., in the name of John Church—this ticket corresponds with one I have.
AUGUSTUS WILIAM HESSE HILDEBRAND . I am in the employ of Messrs. J. and R. Morley, of Wood Street—these goods (produced) belong to them—I was present when they were obtained—I could not swear to the person who got them, but Taylor looks very much like him—he asked for three Cardigan jackets of about 100s., all black—I asked for whom they were, and he said for Yeatman and Blaydes, Regent Street—I sent the goods to the entering room.
STEPHEN HENRY CARDWELL . I am entering clerk to Messrs. J. and R. Morley—I enter goods that are sold in this book (produced), and by the side of the entry is the signature—on 29th March I find an entry, "Yeatman and Blaydes, Regent Street, one parcel of hosiery," signed by H. Williams—Taylor signed that—on 4th April I find three Cardigan jackets entered to Yeatman and Blaydes, and signed, "H. Henderson"—Taylor signed that.
WILLIAM BLAYDES . I am in partnership with Mr. Yeatman, 91, Regent Street—Taylor was formerly our porter—he left us on 18th February—I did not authorise him on 29th March or 4th April to obtain goods for us from Messrs. Morley, and I never received any goods from them on those days—before he left our service he used to go for goods.
WILLIAM WALLER (Policeman 121). About half-past twelve on the night of 23rd April I went to a lodging-house in George Street, Bloomsbury—I saw Randall there—I told him I was a police officer, and should take him in custody for being concerned with another man, who was committed for trial, for obtaining goods under false preteuces—I asked him what he had got to say in reference to the charge—he said, "Yes, it is all right; I have nothing to do with it, but I have the whole of the tickets, and you will find those tickets at 27, Davies Street, Grosvenor Market"—I took him to the station, charged him, searched him, and found these three duplicates (produced)—I found seventy-one duplicates at the address he gave.
Randall's Defence. I deny receiving the goods from Taylor.
NOT GUILTY .
HENRY TAYLOR . The evidence given by this witness in the previous case was read to him, to which he assented, and added:—On 30th March I went to the Nottingham Manufacturing Company, Wood Street, and saw Mr. Gardner—I obtained six merino shirts from him—I told him they were for Yeatman and Blaydes, Regent Street—I signed the book, I cannot say in what name, but very likely it was Williams or Henderson—the prisoner was not with me—I cannot fix the date, but now I think he must have been with me.
COURT. Q. Are you sure he is the person? A. I said at the Mansion House that I was not sure, and the prisoner admitted that he was. (The depositions, being put in, stated, "The prisoner here voluntarily remarked, 'I own I pawned that shirt.'") He said that in my hearing—I cannot recollect the words.
before the Magistrate—I heard Mr. Warner examined—after his evidence had been taken I heard the prisoner say, "Yes, I own I did pawn that."
HENRY GARDNER . I come from the Nottingham Manufacturing Company—on 30th March Taylor came to me and asked for the shirts—I served him—I said, "From Yeatman and Blaydes, I suppose?" and I understood him to say, "Yes"—the goods were sent to the entering room to bo entered—he had six shirts—this is one of them (produced).
WILLIAM HENRY LAMB . I am entering clerk to the Nottingham Manufacturing Company—on 30th March I find entered in this book (produced), "Yeatman and Blaydes, one article," signed, "H. Williams"—I do not know who signed.
RANDALL— GUILTY .— Confined Nine Months. TAYLOR— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
LOUISA CREIGHTON . I am the prisoner's wife—he is a shoe maker—we live at 3, Bath Street, Bethnal Green Road—we have three children—on Easter Monday we went out together, and during the evening we separated, and he went home first—I went home about half-past two in the morning—he saw me at the door talking to a man—he had been looking for me—he asked me the reason why I was not in doors with my family, and struck me under my mouth—I did not see any knife, but directly afterwards I found my mouth bleeding—it was under the chin—I began crying, and a constable came and took him—we had both been drinking, and I was partly drunk.
ELDRED KEENE (Policeman 215 K). I was in Bath Street, heard a woman screaming, and I went to see what was the matter—I found the last witness bleeding under the chin—she said that her husband had stabbed her with something, but she did not know what it was—that was in his presence, and he said he would stab any one that would deceive him as she had done—one of the bystanders said that he had a knife in his hand—I took him to the station, and there fonnd a knife on him—there was a slight stain on it, but I cannot say that it was blood—the wound looked as if it had been done by a sharp instrument.
COURT. Q. Was the prisoner drunk or sober? A. He was under the influence of liquor, but not drunk—his wife was the same.
JAMES ROLFE . I am a surgeon, of '237, Bethnal Green Road—I examined Louisa Creighton, and found an incised wound three-quarters of an inch long, dividing the integuments under the chin—it could not have been done by a blow, but by some sharp instrument, such as this knife—there was fluid blood on it at the station.
Prisoner's Defence. About one o'clock on Tuesday morning I missed my wife. I went home and lit a candle to see if she was in bed; but, not finding her there, I went to look for her, and found her committing herself with a man in the open streets. I struck the man, and he ran away, and then I struck my wife with my left hand. She has had no provocation for ever deceiving me. I have always been a good husband, and a good father to my children.
GUILTY . Strongly recommended to mercy on account of the prococation. COURT to LOUISA CREIGHTON. Q. Had your husband assaulted you
before? A. No—we have been married six years and a half—it is true what he says about my committing adultery—I do not want him to be punished. To enter into his own recognisances in 20l. to keep the peace for Twelve Months.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN SELVYN . I live at No. 7, Mount Pleasant, Gray's Inn Road, and am a fishmonger—about half-past one a.m. on 24th April I was returning home—I was sober—going down the Gray's Inn Road three men rushed out of a court and seized me—the prisoner caught hold of me under the chin—I secured him and called out, "Police!"—the other men ran away—3 1/2 d. and a key was taken out of my trousers pocket—they were safe before I was attacked—a police sergeant came up and took the prisoner—he found a penny on the ground.
Prisoner. Q. Were you not in Holborn with two or three females, and did not one of them demand payment of you? A. No—a female did not take hold of me by the shoulder—I do not know where Brook Street is.
JOHN LINEBORN (Police Sergeant G 1). I was on duty in Gray's Inn Road about a quarter to two a.m. on 24th April—I heard loud cries of "Police!" and proceeded in that direction, and saw the prosecutor and prisoner lying in the road struggling—I seized the prisoner—the prosecutor got up and charged the prisoner with seizing him round the neck and taking 3 1/2 d. from his trousers pocket—he said there were two other men; he was quite sober—another constable came up—the prosecutor said he had heard something fall; I searched and found a penny.
Prisoner. Q. When you came up did I not say, "I think he has dropped something out of his pocket?" A. I do not recollect it; I do not recollect your asking me to look on the ground.
Prisoner's Defence. I was engaged by a man to see him to the Great Western Railway. I had been there and was returning home. I saw the prosecutor with a female in Holborn. I never put my hand near the man's pockets. I am innocent.
GUILTY . He had been fifty-four times previously convicted.— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
NEW COURT.—Thursday, May 9th, 1867.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. METCALFE and NATHAN conducted the Prosecution, and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
JOHN CLARKE AUSTIN . I am an usher of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of John Bentley—I know that the prisoner is John Bentley, the bankrupt—I have seen him there twenty times—the petition was filed on 25th October, 1866, by the bankrupt himself, and was adjudicated on the same day—this is the schedule (produced)
—it was filed on 2nd January, 1867—according to the statement of accounts, the creditors unsecured are 272l. 2s. 7d.; creditors to be paid in full, 1l. 4s.—there are no secured creditors—the assets are "Good debts, I 5l. 3s." "Baddebts, 110l. 17s.;" "Property given up to the assignees, 22l. 3s."—in the property sheet he says, "Sold by the assignees for 22l. 3s." (The hankmpt's examination was put in and read.)
Cross-examined. Q. How many creditors proved? A. Five: Mr. Rolf for 44l. 19s.; Benjamin Cluff, 22l. 6s. 4d.; Mr. Wrangham, 77l. 4s. 1d.; Mr. Libers, as agent to Mr. Rolf, 44l. 8s. 3d.,; and Joshua Batty, 44l. 19s.
JOHN KIBBLE . I am senior clerk in the office of the Chief Registrar in Bankruptcy—it is my duty to receive petitions for adjudication—I produce the prisoner's petition, which I received on 25th October, 1866.
----PLATT. I am clerk to Mr. Davis, anctioneer—on, I believe, October 27th I went, by direction of the messenger, to the bankrupt's premises, and took this inventory (produced)—the whole value of the goods I found on the premises was 21l. 3l.—I find this memorandum at the foot, "The property comprised in the foregoing inventory includes the whole of my estate and four weeks' rent, John Bentley"—I left a few articles equivalent to the value of those four weeks rent, which is 30s.—I do not think the furniture will realise that, but we left the furniture of a certain room.
Cross-examined. Q. What are the articles you valued at 21l. 3s.? A. About sixty pairs of women's and twenty-five pairs of children's boots, a few cuttings and uppers, four butts of sole leather, a leather-rolling machine, and a few sundries appertaining to the business—we left the furniture for the rent—it would have realised from 1l. to 30s.—it was a four-roomed cottage, at 19, North Street, Bethnal Green, with, a built-out washhouse, used as a workshop—the weekly rental was about 8s.; I have got that in my book.
JOHN LIBERS . I am manager for Mr. Rolf, a leather merchant—I am the prisoner's assignee—I last sold him goods on 11th October to the value of 44l. 8s. 3d., which were sent the same day—I have not been paid.
Cross-examined. Q. Had he been dealing with you before? A. About six months—he may have paid me about 100l.—this is the ledger account in my writing—in the sale book the first transaction he had with, me is 24th February, 3l. 18s.—there were eight transactions altogether—this book goes back for three years—if ready-money transactions had token place I should have entries of them—I am positive that February, 1866, is the first transaction.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did he pay all but the last two? A. Yes, the one of 11th October and the one immediately preceding—I prove one transaction, and a bill is drawn for the previous one—I am not positive whether I included it in my proof, but my impression is that I proved for the whole—the bill was dishonoured the same day: he received the fresh goods before I knew of its dishonour.
Prisoner. I paid him the bill on 10th October, the day before, and he sent it back to me. Witness. On bills being due we send out printed notices, and he was requested to attend to this bill, and bring the money in good time for us to take it up—he brought it at four o'clock—I said, "It is late, and I am afraid the notary is on his way to your place; you had better go back, or your credit will suffer;" and in the meantime the porter was sent down for fresh goods.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Did you hear from him that on the notary coming
for the bill he refused to take the money? A. I did not hear it from him, but as soon as I learned that the bill came back, I sent down one of my men, and he was told that we had better apply to a solicitor.
JOHN WARNGHAM . I am a leather merchant and shoe mercer, of 132, London Wall—the prisoner dealt with me for three or four months before his bankruptcy—the last transactions were for 29l. 16s. 3d. on 6th October for Australian hides, and 23l. 0s. 6d. on 12th October for kid and elastic—all those goods remain unpaid for—I went to his premises on the Monday or Tuesday before his bankruptcy, which wag on Thursday—I went into the shop, and saw a very small quantity of goods indeed—I think it was Tuesday, but it might have been Wednesday morning—the goods mentioned in the inventory would pretty well represent what I saw—I did not ask the prisoner anything about the goods—I asked him if he had any of our goods left which had been sent on 12th October—he said that he had nothing but a piece of lining, which he showed me, having made the rest up and sold them.
Cross-examined. Q. About how many transactions had you in the three or four months? A. Five—he paid me for two parcels three months before the last two, and for the last he paid partly money and partly by bill, which was returned—he may have paid me, without the bill, 40l.—he did not pay me some more about 11th October—the payments were all made to me—I sent the last lot of goods by a porter, who I think brought back some money—I have only been in the front shop, not in the workshop—he makes up boots for the trade—he might do a retail trade, but I understood him to buy the materials to make them up as fast as possible by machinery, and take them to the wholesale houses—he excused himself for having none of my materials by saying that he had made them up and sold them.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Had there been time to make them up? A. I should hardly think so.
BENJAMIN CLUFF . I am an elastic web manufacturer, and am one of the prisoner's creditors—I last supplied him with goods about 3rd October—he owes me 22l. 6s., for which I proved under the bankruptcy—I was at his house on 20th October, the Saturday before the bankruptcy—I went for my money—I saw a quantity of goods and leather, and some machines there, value over 100l.—the prisoner had told me some time in the week before that he had other goods made up up stairs.
Cross-examined. Q. Is the elastic webbing for making the side-springs of boots? A. Yes; I went there on the Wednesday, the same week that he was bankrupt; I said that I had come for 2l. 3s., and he told me that he had no money: I said that I could do with boots to the amount, he said that he could not do that; I said that he might give me some of the boots which were hanging up, he said that he could not give me any, but gave no reason, except that he had not got money: I said that I heard there was something amiss, and would go and tell the other creditors—I believe that was after he had told me I could not have the goods—I left my son there to see that nothing was removed—a boy went with me in the first instance, and then I sent for my son—I also sent to Mr. Wrangham—Matthews came there—I went at seven in the morning, and Matthews's cart was standing at the door—I did not see Matthews at all—the cart went away, but I did not see it go—I was in the shop when it left—I did not see who drove it away; it was gone when I came out—I did not see whether anything was in it—nothing was taken out of the room while I was there—I did not hear Matthews say that he would give him till two o'clock, and
if he did not pay him then he would take away the machinery—I never saw him—the machines were there on the Saturday, but I did not see them on this occasion—I should think the machinery was worth 40l., and all the other things in the place 60l. or 70l.—I swore that the last time I was there was Saturday, but that was a mistake.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did you see the goods upstairs? A. No; it must have been Wednesday morning when I saw Matthews's cart—I just went into the front shop—I do not know what Matthews's cart was doing there so early—the boots and shoes were hung on pegs on the walls—the walls were covered on the Saturday, but there were not so many on the Wednesday—the boots and shoes in the front warehouse on Saturday must have been worth more than 40l., but on the Wednesday I should think there were not a quarter as many—I will reduce it from 40l. to 10l.—the leather and the boots there on Saturday were worth about 30l.—I did not see much leather on the Wednesday—I saw no one with the cart when I went in, and no one went from the shop while I was there, but they might have gone through the passage.
JOHN FERDINANDO . I live at 29, Peter Street, Hackney Road, and deal in elastic webbing—I have known the prisoner about eighteen months—I am not a creditor of his now—I have often been on his premises before ho was bankrupt—he owed me a trifle of money, which was the reason of my going backwards and forwards a week previous to the bankruptcy—I ultimately got it by continuous going—the last time I went was on Wednesday, between eight and nine in the morning, and he was bankrupt next day—I had been there on the previous Saturday, and saw hard upon four gross of boots and shoes, made and partially made, the value of which would be 112l.—there were butts of leather and various other kinds of leather—I should think the uppers and different things lying about would be 20l. or 30l., about 140l. or 150l. altogether, and then there was the machinery—when I went on the Wednesday the place had a poverty-stricken appear-ance, it did not look like the same place to me—I did not see any butts of leather—there were a few remnants lying about, to the value of 12l. or 14l.—I did not go up stairs on the Saturday—I know that the prisoner kept stock up stairs, because that was where he said the robbery was effected—he told me that—on the Wednesday previous he said that he was going to apply to the Bankruptcy Court—I said, "You will not be able to do that unless you can give an account of all the property you have had"—he said that he should say there had been a robbery—he also said that he had lost 40l. by a man named Jones—I do not think I stated that fact before—that was a bad debt—he said that he lived somewhere about Islington—I said that he would have to give the particulars of that, and show that there was such a person—when I went on Saturday for a portion of the money, he said that he had been robbed—I said, "Indeed I"—he seemed to have for-gotten what he had told me on Friday—I said, "What is the amount of the robbery?"—he said, about 30l., and that he had sent for the police and they did not seem to believe him, but looked sternly at him and said, "Where do you get your credit from? go and tell the tale to your creditors"—on the Monday or Tuesday before he became bankrupt he said, that on account of his keeping back the 23l. for Rolfs bill, they had served him with a copy of a writ, and that he had been to Mr. Matthews's lawyer, named Bryant, who said that it was no use trying to enter an ap-pearance about it, but he would take him through the Bankruptcy Court for a consideration of 9l., and in the interim he must clear out and take
care of himself—when I went there on Wednesday, 26th, at ten a.m., I saw Bentley's horse and cart at the door—he went out with it to take some goods home, which he brought from up stairs—it was a small basket of boots—he put it in the cart and drove off with a man named Frank-lyn, a traveller for one of the firms.
Cross-examined. Q. How many transactions have you had with him? A. Several—I dare say I have done trade with him to about 50l. from October of the previous year, up to about six weeks before his bankruptcy—he owes me 2l. 17s.—that is the debt that I went about so often—I know Cliff—he deals in the same articles as I do—I was in the front shop on the Saturday—it is about the size of that place (the Counsel's table)—there is a glass door there about two feet six—the passage is not through the centre of the shop, but at the side—there is a doorway through to the back room—on either side of the doorway there is from four to five feet—there are three rows of nails on each side, and about ten nails in a row—it is a sort of rack which a portion of the boots are hung upon, but the boots in that trade are not put upon nails—they are put into baskets or made into little mountains—I took very little notice of the boots on the nails, because that was not the point at issue at all—it is usual to hang two or three pairs on one nail, but I took very little notice of the nails, because the stock was not on the nails—there was a lot here and a lot there, and about half a gross in the basket—it is not like a shop in the City—it is a different trade to that—there were five ar six lots lying about, and there was a hamper, and a great quantity in the window, and they were strewed all over the place—taking the window and the front round it, there were two or three dozen there—the hamper was open—it is known in the trade that a certain hamper carries a certain quantity—I do not make boots—that hamper would hold half a gross of full-sized boots, and it was full, all but the top row—three or four dozen were on the counter, and I saw another lot of three or four dozen lying by the desk unfinished—there were two dozen on the nails, as well as I can remember—that makes eighteen dozen out of the forty-eight, the other thirty dozen were lying about all over the place—no one was present on 18th October when he talked about the Bankruptcy Court—we wont over to a public-house, and the conversation took place there—that was the night he spoke about the robbery, and he also spoke to the landlord about the robbery—I said to the prisoner, "You will not be able to go through the Bankruptcy Court unless you give an account of the property," and then he said, "I shall say that a robbery has been committed"—I made that remark on the 18th, while the landlord was drawing two glasses of beer—the prisoner first talked about bankruptcy on the Monday or Tuesday, after he had been served with a copy of a writ—he said that Matthews had taken him to his lawyer, Mr. Bryant—that was in the street—no one was present—he had said nothing to me about a robbery before 18th October—he told me first, and told the landlord after-wards, and he spoke to me again about the robbery on Saturday—he is married—I do not know that his wife is given to take too much to drink—I know that it has been said so, but I do not believe it; I think it is very unfair—I never saw any indications of it—I do not live in the house.
WILLIAM FANE . I am a clicker, of 63, Murdock Street, Bethnal Green—I have been employed by the prisoner occasionally—I was at work there on the Monday night previous to his bankruptcy, and on Wednesday night, and I was there all day on Saturday, and was at work there on Monday morning—I was not at work on Wednesday—on Saturday I saw between
two and throe gross of boots and shoes, the same ns usual, and several butts—the value of the boots and materials I saw was about 200l. without the machinery—I have not lately had an opportunity of seeing what there was up stairs—the last time I was up stairs was eight months ago, but I have seen him go up stairs and fetch goods down lately—I heard he had had a robbery—I cannot say who told me so, but I believe he did—I saw some of the articles I have spoken of after that—the place was in the same con-dition on Monday as on Saturday, but on Wednesday it was empty—there might perhaps have been six dozen of boots knocking about, but nothing worth speaking of—I last saw the horse and cart on the Wednesday night—it was standing outside the door at a quarter or twenty minutes past eight—when I went away I left it there.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you ever sell a single pair of boots in your life? A. Many—they vary in value; some womens' boots are sold as low as 1s. a pair, 7l. a gross—the prisoner never got up any children's work, or very little—it was principally women's boots, varying in price—my duty was cutting them out—I also worked for Mr. London, of the Commercial Road—I work for the prisoner from six to eight in the morning and at night—I have seen boots brought from up stairs many times, to make up a quantity for customers—he dealt with wholesale people, and had to sell at the smallest possible profit—there were full three gross there on Saturday—they were about the place in different parts, some in the window, some on nails, and some in the back place, which the men were doing—there was only one person at work in the back place, I think, on Saturday morning, but there ought to be another one at night—I make the stock without the machinery come to 200l., because: the boots were principally kid—I think the prisoner used to sell them at 5s. a pair—I never had anything to do with selling them—that is not a very high price for women's boots, whole-sale, I am paying 5s. 3d. to Mr. London now by the dozen—I do not say that all these are worth 5s. a dozen—there might have been some enamel ones, and a few cashmeres, but the majority were the best—I have not reckoned them up, and I am not a good scholar—I arrive at the 200l. because I think that a business like that could not possibly be carried on under that amount, for stock and floating capital—there were not goods out which were not paid for—they were boots in preparation of making—I do not think there was a shoe there—I believe the cutting press was a twenty-five inch one, that at 1l. an inch would be 25l.—I should think that the machinery was worth more than 100l., including the lasts—I mean to say that there was 200l. worth of stock, besides the machinery.
MR. METCALFE. Q. What were your hours on Monday? A. I do not think I was there in the morning—I went about half-past eight at night for a short time—I was there in the previous week on Friday morning, and Saturday—I used to be there entirely on Saturdays, as I work for a Jew.
ALEXANDER PERRY . I am sixteen years old, and am the prisoner's apprentice—I was at work with him all the week before his bankruptcy up to the Saturday—I did not go to the premises after Saturday—I slept up stairs in the back room on Saturday—I did not see any stock kept in that room that week, but boots and shoes were kept there sometimes—there were none in any room up stairs—I heard the prisoner say that he had lost some skins by a robbery from a shelf up stairs in the back room where I slept—I believe that was one Wednesday night, the Wednesday before the Saturday I spoke of—I was sleeping there on the Wednesday night—I did not hear anybody come in—to get to the shelf he spoke of, a person would have
to stand on my bed or on a chair—I did not miss any skins—ho said there were six dozen; that would form a large bundle—I saw no such bundle there, but a week or a fortnight before the bankruptcy I saw him take away some goods in hampers with a horse and cart—there were about nine hampers altogether, and he took away three at a time—I could see through the canes that there were boots in them—the prisoner and I put them in, and the prisoner drove—It was towards the afternoon part—I did not go with him—the cart came back with the empty hampers, and he filled them again and took them away again the next day—I did not see him fill them—I assisted him to put them into the cart—I have seen him remove furniture in Mr. Matthew junior's van, not that week but before that—the prisoner and Matthews put the goods in the van—I only saw that done once—I did not see who went off with them, as I was called—I removed a hamper to 3, Viaduct Street—it was not a small one—Mr. Allen lives there, who assisted me himself—I do not know what it contained—it was very heavy—that was a few days before the bankruptcy—Mrs. Bent ley directed me to do it—I did not hear the prisoner say anything about a writ.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe Mr. Bentley was out at the time. A. Yes, I first went to live with the prisoner about two years ago—the making of boots has been carried on all that time—tho hampers are cane baskets, for the purpose of sending out goods—they hold three dozen full-sized women's boots, I think—they were not always in constant use during the first two years; one was in use, and I believe he borrowed two others—I have delivered goods myself in one of them—I have received money in payment for goods—I do not know how much a dozen for the best quality boots—I never took the money for a dozen—I have taken a dozen home, but cannot remember what I have been paid—the skins were supposed to be kept in the room were I slept, and were fetched down as they were wanted—a policeman came to the place on a Saturday, not the last day I was there, but a week before.
Q. It has been suggested that you did not wake up on the night of the robbery: did you wake up on the night of the policeman going there; did you hear that he had been into your room and that you did not wake up? A. No, I did not hear it—I found the window of the back room where I sleep, open in the morning; I had fastened it the night before—I had to go down stairs tho same night on account of the horse being loose, and at the same time I found tho window open—it was three o'clock in the morning—I had gone to bed at ten o'clock, and between ten and three the window had been opened by some one.
COURT. Q. When did you find the window open? A. When I went to bed I shut it, and at three o'clock, when I went down to the horse, I found it open again, before I went down—I sleep soundly; two policemen came.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Have you heard words between the prisoner and his wife while you have been living there? A. Yes; whether true or not, the prisoner has said more than once that his wife drank too much—I know John Ferdinando—I do not remember his coming on Wednesday—I was not occupied in the room where the boots were, but in the back room adjoining—I used to go through the back room into the passage—I had nothing to do with the front shop—I used not to mind it whilst they were at their meals—some riveters worked there, besides Payne and me—I cannot say whether there were ever more than two gross of boots on the premises at ono time—I cannot guess at all how many there were—they were not sent away as soon as finished—I did not take them out—I only
delivered quantities as small as a dozen—when Mrs. Bentley sent me to 3, Viaduct Street, Mr. Bentley was out of the house.
MR. METCALFE. Q. About the open window, which day of the week was that? A. The Wednesday week before I left; I left on the Saturday before the bankruptcy—the prisoner called me up, he was in my room before I saw the window open—he told me that the horse was loose, and I went down and fastened him up—I shut the window after I came back.
SAMUEL CRONER . I am a creditor of the prisoner—I did not prove the account under the bankruptcy—my debt is between 18l. and 19l.—I went to him two days after the last goods were delivered—this (produced) is the invoice—aflter he had filed his petition I went there and asked him what for he had filed his petition; he would have done better to compromise with his creditors and make an agreement—he said he was afraid his creditors would not take his offer, and he had been robbed of a great number of his goods, which was the reason he could not pay—I said, "Bentley, what you say about being robbed is all bosh, but you had better come up to the solicitor and make an agreement with the creditors"—he tried to do so, but he had some bad advisers, I think—there was not much stock in the place then, that was after he hod filed his petition—I had been there before—there was never a very extensive stock.
Cross-examined. Q. There never could have been a great deal, judging from the bankruptcy? A. No; the property he had of mine was materials, value 5l. 1s., early in October—I called there two or three days afterwards and saw several dozens of boots hanging about, and a few kid skins—50l. would cover the lot, leaving out the machinery—the highest price he could get from the wholesale houses for the best articles he manufactured was 50s. a dozen, and 36s. or 42s. for the worst—he tried to make an arrangement after bankruptcy, and I think if he hod had any one else to advise him he would have done so—he tried to take it out of bankruptcy and privately arrange it—he has dealt with me two years—I trusted him never more than from 13l. to 15l.—I took from him during the two years 10l. or 15l. a week—ho paid me nearly every week—he paid all except the last lot—I was there mostly every week, sometimes every fortnight—I went there every week in October up to the bankruptcy—I saw no difference when I was there—he would make a very small profit on manufacturing, as he sold to the wholesale houses, five or six per cent.; the utmost would be ten per cent., and he might make bad debts, especially if ho took goods on credit.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Where were the goods you saw? A. A portion of them were in the shop—I did not go into the back shop—I did not see what was up stairs.
MR. BESLEY to A. PERRY. Q. How many chairs did you see taken away? A. I believe about half a dozen, but only one table—they were cane-bottomed chairs—a chest of drawers was also taken away—I do not know what became of it—those were all the goods I saw removed—I do not know when they were removed—it was before the bankruptcy—I do not know whether it was before the nine hampers were taken—I did not miss anything else, because I did not usually go into the front room up stairs—there were some beds.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. MOODY the Defence.
RICHARD MANN . I live at 17, Henry Street, Portland Town, and am timekeeper to Mr. Norman, the builder—the prisoner was in Mr. Norman's employ on 16th, 17th, and 18th October, and I discharged him on the morning of the 20th, after which he abused Mr. Norman—on 12th January he called and said that I had made a mistake with his father-in-law's money, who was in our employ; I had not got him paid enough—ho also said, "I will serve you out yet before I have done with you"—I know the prisoner's writing, I have seen him write—this letter (produced) is in his writing, envelope and all—there is no truth whatever that I was living in adultery with a married woman, the mother of a family, or that I knocked my mother down stairs and broke her leg—I did assault my mother, and received punishment for it, but there was no limb broken, nor yet a scratch—it was under considerable provocation; I was taking the part of one of my own children, who is now dead—these two letters (produced) are in the prisoner's writing—I did not see him write this, but I know it to be his.
Cross-examined. Q. When have you seen him write? A. In June and July last, in my house—he has been a regular visitor there to the young men connected with my family—he is on friendly terms with a nephew of mine, and they got forming letters to see who could write the best—that was in June or July last year—that was the only time I have seen him write—there might be two or three occasions, but I can only say one—I received the first letter on 24th February—there was Charles Richardson, who is at sea, and a young man named Henry Mann, my nephew, who is on the Great Northern line at Camden Town—I am not a very good penman—I have never before had to give evidence of handwriting—this was seven months before, but the same writing kept coming to me day by day afterwards—another witness will prove that it came from the prisoner.
VERE WOODMAN . I am a labourer, of Kingsbury—I received this letter from Mrs. Jones, my sister—it is addressed to her, "Laundress, Hendon, Middlesex"—I took it to Mr. Mann—I was at that time engaged to be married to his daughter, and have been married to her.
SARAH JONES . I am the wife of Arthur Jones, of Hendon—I received this letter through the post on 8th March—I do not know who it came from—I read it through several times, and then sent it to my brother.
HENRY BURTON . I am not a witness for the prosecution, but for the defence—I have seen the prisoner write—I am in the employ of Mr. Norman, the builder—the prisoner was also in his, employ two or three days—these papers produced are what I call time-sheets—I cannot say that they are in the prisoner's writing, as they have been out of my hands; I have not seen them these two months.
COURT. Q. Are the labourers in the habit of signing their names when they receive money, or writing down the day? A. No, the amount is put down, and then they come away—the prosecutor puts it down; the labourer is not there when the time-sheets are made out—I cannot swear whether this is my writing, as it has been so long out of my hands.
HENRY BALDWIN (Policeman 159 D). The prisoner came to me on 6th April, and asked me if there was a warrant out against a man named Burton—I said, "Yes, arc you the man? I will read it to you—I read it
to him, and he said, "I know nothing about it, but I am the man it is meaut for"—I took him into custody.
Cross-examined. Q. When had that warrant been placed in your hands? A. It is dated 25th March—there had been a summons in the name of Burton left at the prisoner's house.
The letter containing the libel was directed to Mrs. Jones, Laundress, Hendon, Middlesex, stating that Richard Mann was living in adultery with a married woman, and that he had knocked his mother down stairs and broken her leg.
Witnesses for the Defence.
----HEINRICH. I have seen the prisoner write once—this letter is not his writing.
Cross-examined. Q. How long ago did you see him write? A. A little more than a week—he did not ask me to look at his writing, I did it on my own account; he was showing me how he wrote—that was within a week—it was at Mr. Johnson's, the solicitor for the defence—the writing of this letter is somewhat larger than usual; there is not a single letter in it which corresponds with the prisoner's writing.
ANN BURTON . I am the prisoner's mother—he is my child by a previous husband—I live at 17, Victoria Terrace, Portland Town—I have frequently seen the prisoner write—I could distinctly swear without any hesitation that these letters are not his writing.
Cross-examined. Q. How lately have you seen him write? A. This morning in my house, where he lives with me—he made up my rent-book and my baker's book—he was not showing me how he writes; there was no need for that—Mr. Burton is my present husband, Mr. Heinrich is my baker, and my son's bail.
MR. MOODY to RICHARD MANN. Q. Had you previously received a letter? A. Yes, on the 8th a note was written among our family to keep this case to ourselves.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Have not you received many other letters of the same kind? A. Yes, here they are (produced)—here is one I have received since he has been bound to bail.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, May 8th, and Thursday, May 9th, 1867.
Before Mr. Justice Blackburn.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE, with MR. F. H. LEWIS, conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. RIBTON and MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
JOHN FORD (Policeman S 306). I was on duty in Prince of Wales Crescent, Haverstock Hill, on the night of 21st January last—I saw the prisoner standing at the door of his shop, No. 27—I wished him good night, and went round my beat—It was about ten minutes to eleven, as near as I can tell—it takes me about half an hour to go round my beat—I had been round several times before the fire occurred, about three times I think—I then saw smoke coming from the top of the shop, from the two corners of the facia—that Was about half-past twelve o'clock—I rang the bell, knocked at the door, and sprang my rattle—I stayed there till the firemen came—I saw the prisoner about a quarter of an hour after I had rung the bell—I saw him and his wife come from the passage at the back of
the house—they appeared to bo perfectly dressed, the wife had a shawl on her head—the fire was extinguished in about from half to three-quarters of an hour from the time I first rang the bell—after it was extinguished I went up stairs into the first floor back room—I observed some dark sticky stuff on the floor—it smelt very much like tar—I went over the rest of the house, I found the same appearance all over the house—I went into the bedroom in which the prisoner and his wife slept—it was the top front room—I looked at the bed; it did not appear as if it had been slept in—the blanket and counterpane was merely thrown back; it did not appear as if any one had lain on it; there were no sheets on the bed—there was the same black appearance on the bed, the blankets, and counterpane—I cut a piece of paper from the wall and a piece of the cover from the sofa, and gave them to Dr. Redwood's assistant, together with two pieces of I wood, which I cut, one from the little back room on the first floor, and the other from the second floor back—that was some few days after the fire.
Cross-examined. Q. You saw the prisoner at eleven o'clock, you say? A. About ten minutes before eleven, I can't tell to a minute or two—he was standing at the door smoking—I stated at the police court that he was smoking his pipe; that is correct—I have sworn it, and am sure of it—about half-past twelve I saw a smoke coming out of the top of the shop—the shop is built out from the house—I gave an alarm, and Reney, the fireman, was on the spot almost directly; the fire-engine station is not above 100 yards off—I saw the prisoner and his wife coming from the passage which leads to the back of the house, coming out of the passage into the main street—I was in front of the house when I saw them—there is one more shop besides the prisoner's, and then the passage; I don't mean the back passage of the house, the passage that leads from the back of the house—whether they came out of their own house or not I could not tell—there is another row of houses where this passage leads to—they were very near together—I went into the first floor front room—the walls of the other rooms were all blackened; that was not, only just where the smoke was—the windows of that room open on to the roof of the shop—I have no doubt the door of that room was shut—the flames had passed through the crevice of the door and scorched; the paint of the door outside was blistered—the room over that was the room in which the prisoner slept; there was another bed, but that had not any clothes on it sufficient for any one to sleep in—I did not conclude that no one had slept in the bed because there were no sheets on it; some persons are in the habit of sleeping without sheets in cold weather.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Did you observe the floor of the front room? A. Yes, that was black where it had passed under the crevice of the door—there was no carpet.
EDMUND RENEY . I am foreman of the Western Fire Brigade, stationed at Ferdinand Street, Haverstock Hill—I was called to a fire at 27, Prince of Wales Crescent, on 21st January about half-past twelve or a quarter to one—it was a very cold frosty night, the night before the rain froze—I saw smoke come from the shop front, through the shutters; one stream of smoke was coming all along the shutters, but it seemed to come out in two particular streams, one just over the fanlight, and the other at the further end of the shutters—I was accompanied by two more firemen, Coutts and Keller—I saw the constable Ford when I arrived there with the engine—I went round to the back, in the court, with my hand-pump, and got over
the wall into the yard of the house—the other two firemen were with me, wo cut a hole through the window and shutter of the parlour on the ground floor—I then looked through and saw fire burning under the counter, very slightly, that is, I saw flames coming from under the counter—the door that divides the parlour and shop is half glass, and I saw through the glass—I had the hand-pump and a pail of water with me—I tried to open the shutters, but found I could not, from a bar being across them, and two of us burst open the yard door—we went into the kitchen, and from the kitchen up the passage into the back parlour, and I commenced to work on the fire—I should say this took up about a minuto or a minute and a half—we burst the door open very quickly—when I got into the back parlour the flames were still coming from under the counter—they had increased very trifling—Coutts went into the back parlour with me, he worked the hand-pump with a pail of water, and I crawled on my hands and knees towards the counter and played upon it—we had opened the parlour door to get into the parlour from the passage, and we opened the door between the shop and parlour; it was not locked, merely shut—we had nearly exhausted the pail of water when we were driven back by a sudden flame which seemed to come all over the shop—I can't tell what kind of flame it was—I had to cover my eyes, the sulphur from it was so great, and run momently, I could not have stood it—it smelt very much like tar, and the stench was very sickly when it was in my throat.
Q. Was there any sound of an explosion, or merely a blaze? A. A sort of a blow, a sort of sudden light as if it was blown, but no loud report, only a sudden blaze up—we got out into the yard, I got out safe, one of the men dropped behind me—we closed all the doors after us—when I was in the yard I again looked through the hole in the shutter which I had previously made—the flames were then coming into the back parlour—the smoke was very black indeed, and very voluminous, it came out in volumes out of all the windows—we then went round to the front—we had taken our engine with us when we went there, the engine belonging to the Western Fire Brigade—we then ran onr hose oat and got our engine to work, another fireman took the branch—we cooled the fire down in about ten minutes—we then went into the premises and thoroughly extinguished it—I came out to have a blow, and saw the prisoner standing near my engine—the smoke and steam was then coming out of the shop front—I believe there was a little fire then, because the firemen were working it—the prisoner was thoroughly dressed—I said, "Mr. Wales?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Are you insured?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "In what office?"—he said, "The Western"—I asked if he could show me the policy or give me the number and the particulars—he did so—he went into a neighbour's parlour in the next house, and he produced the policy from a tin box or case; either he or his wife had it at the time I spoke to him, I won't be sure which, but I saw him with it afterwards; he either brought it from under his right arm, or his wife gave it to him; it contained a policy for the plate glass and a policy of Insurance—I asked if he could account for the fire—he said, no, he could not—I said, "I shall leave a man behind; I suppose you have no objection to it?"—he said, "No"—I afterwards went over the house—I went into a back room on the first floor laudiug—when first I broke the door open the smell was very great indeed, and the smoke so suffocating that I could not enter—when I did go iii the smell had very much gone off—the smoke had gone—the smell
was very much like tar—there was no furniture whatever in the room—I observed the flooring, it was then very wet with a black substance—I should say about half a gallon, as near as I could estimate, of a black liquid which was very sticky when you touched it, and smelt very much like tar—it was all over the floor—I then went to the second floor front; there was a carpet on the floor of that room, and as I walked across to open the window to let out the smoke, I found it stick to my feet—I put my hand down on the carpet, and when I brought it up it was all over black stuff, the same as I had experienced before, and it smelt very much like tar—it had the appearance of tar—I can compare it to nothing else—there was a bed in that room, and blankets and a counterpane on it, but no sheets—I looked to see whether the bed had been laid in; my opinion was that nobody had slept in it, because the clothes were laid level across, made for any person to get in—the blankets were very black indeed, almost a jet black, where they had been exposed to the smoke—I next went into the back room, second floor—I observed a hearthrug there, that was the same as the front room carpet, of the two I think it was more saturated—the floor of that room was the same as the back room below, but the liquor swimming on it appeared to be about a gill, about as big as a large-sized glassful, it was lying close to the crevice of the door—I touched it and smelt it; it was sticky, and smelt the same as I had smelt in the room below—the paper on the whole of the walls was very black indeed; there was some smoke which you could not nib off, such as I had never experienced before at any fires, and I have been at a great many—I examined the banisters and woodwork; I found them covered with a black substance, and it was all blistered up in black blisters, and in one portion it was as if it was running down, but the heat had dried it up; that was on what is called the cheek of the staircase, the wood-work that runs up the side—that had the same smell, but not so much as the floor—I left the house about three o'clock—I was taken ill—I returned next morning about eleven with Mr. Becker, the manager of the Western Insurance Office—I examined the shop more minutely as soon as we could clear the rubbish away; that was about the next day, the second day after the fire—I examined the remains of the counter, it is here—this (produced) is a portion of it—there is some more in a van outside; this is the top of the counter, and here is the underneath part of it, the part that was burnt—the upper portion is not burnt—there is a bit of the cloth on it now—it is printed calico—the remains of the counter which is outside is like this, burnt inside, but not out—I saw some boxes which were found by my firemen in the shop—this (produced) is one of them; that is burnt inside, and not out—there were two other boxes larger than this they are here,—they are more burnt—I saw them on the premises the next day after the fire, but not to take any particular notice of them till the fireman called my attention to them, about the second day after—I smelt the boxes at that time, I could not perceive any smell in them, only of burnt wood—this is the remains of the other box—they got broken in turning over the ruins—this is the third box—there are two big ones and a small one—these are the whole of the three boxes—I examined the state of the shop floor the day after the fire, but not so minutely as I did the day after, and since that—I examined the part where I first observed the fire when looking through the hole in the shutter—I found a hole burnt in the floor where, as near as I can remember, I first saw the fire; it was burnt completely through, and I saw another hole from two to three feet nearer
towards where I was kneeling when I first went in, nearer the parlour door—I found several smaller holes, some about five inches in diameter—the holes under the counter were, I should say, about eighteen inches by fourteen, I never measured them—one was a little larger than the other—the one nearer the parlour door was the largest—there was one hole under the show board of the window; that was about nine inches across—on clearing away the rubbish of the shop I found the floor was burnt all over, as if something had run all over the floor alight; we saw that when we came to sweep the floor up—we did not discern that while the rubbish was lying about.
Cross-examined. Q. There is no doubt the fire was all over the shop? A. By the appearance something had burnt it here and there, all over the shop, as if something had run all over it slightly—some parts were left not burnt; it was as if you upset a pail of water, the lower parts would be wet and the higher parts would not—I give it as my idea that something had run alight all over it, and as it ran on the lower parts it burnt it, but there were some portions, a foot or eighteen inches square, not burnt—I have been a fireman a great many years—the flames had not rushed up through the house, or else they would have fired the staircase, and that was not burnt—the walls were blackened by the smoke, in my opinion—there were blisters on the doors outside, where the heat had got to them—the outside of the first floor front door was very much blistered; heat would blister that, not flame, the flame was not up so high as that, that is my opinion—I saw the appearance of smoke having come through the top of the door of the first floor front room, not flame; flame would have fired it—the door was blistered outside, and smoke had got inside through the crevices, but only smoke—the walls of the staircase were blackened; that was from smoke—if I was asked to give my opinion as a practical man, I would swear it was not flame—the banisters were not charred; they were blistered into a lot of little black blisters—I have not said that they were charred; there was something on them which the heat had caused to blister—I saw the flooring of the first floor back room all black; that was from something in the smoke; in my opinion it was not smoke that blistered it, but something that was conveyed up in the smoke—it got on the floor by condensing itself in the smoke, and so falling on the floor—the walls on the second floor were all blackened—the walls in the first floor back room, which I have been speaking of, were not blackened; they might have been a little discoloured by smoke, but they were not blackened as the others were—I am speaking of the little room on the landing over the kitchen—the walls of that room were not blackened in the same way as the walls of the staircase, nothing at all like it—the door was shut—the door of the second floor back room was open when I went up—I believe I mentioned at the police-court about finding half a gallon of something like tar—I can't call it to memory—it is nearly four months ago since I was at the police-court—I have stated more about tar this time than I have stated before—I did speak about tar at the first hearing—I have not heard the scientific witnesses give their evidence—I have read some of it in the newspaper—I have never been allowed to be with them—there was a bed and bedding in the front room second floor, but no sheets—there was also a bed in the back room first floor, but, as far as my memory goes, no sheots or blankets—in the top back room there was a bed, and that had a counterpane and a blanket—I found no sheets on any of the beds—the only parts of the house in
which I saw flames were the shop and back parlour—I did not go away at any time—the flames could not have rushed up through the whole of the house without my seeing them—I never did see them—it is my opinion they never did, and I swear to it.
ROBERT COUTTS . I am one of the Western Fire Brigade—on the morning of 22nd January I went with the last witness to the prisoner's house—I took the hand-pump and looked through the hole in the shutter, and saw a little fire coming out underneath the counter—I have often been to fires before—this was a very little fire—we got in at the back door, and I used the pump—Reney went on his hands and knees into the shop, and the fire took alight and seemed to come all over the shop like at once—it came from the counter into the parlour, along the floor—it was quite sudden—there was a black smoke, and it smelt like tar—I had not noticed any smell of that kind before it burst out in that way—the vapour took away my senses for a moment.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Were you with Reney when he cut the hole in the shutter? A. No; he got over the wall first—he did not leave me—when he went into the house I did not see him look through the shutter—I joined Reney after he had made the hole in the shutter—I did not fall against him that I know of—I did not hear any noise like a puff of wind—I went into the house after the fire was put out—I went up the stairs, but I did not notice the staircase; it was not burnt—the walls were black, but not burnt—I went into the first floor front room next morning, but not that night—the fire did not appear to have extended to the first floor front—there was no fire there at all—the door was shut—I did not see the door opened—I went into the room—I did not notice whether there were any marks of fire having gone through the crevice at the top of the door—I went into the second floor front; that was all black—the door was open when I went up next morning—in my opinion the fire had not extended further than the shop parlour, the little back room on the ground floor—it extended all over the shop and parlour.
ARTHUR CARROD . I am one of the Western Fire Brigade—I went with Reney and Coutts to this fire—I observed smoke come out of the shutter of the shop—we all of us got into the back yard—Reney made a hole in ihe parlour shutter—I did not look through it first; I did afterwards, before I went in—the place was then thoroughly alight—that was about ten minutes after Reney had looked through—it was after he had gone in and come out again—I heard him call out—I had a tub of water in my hand at the time; I was going to take it to work the pump—I got back as quick as I could—I saw the flames shoot into the back room, and I smelt a stifling smoke, it was something like tar and wood burning together—I remained in charge of the premises—I went into the bedroom upstairs, there was a large bed there—the blankets were turned down—it did not appear to have been slept in; there were no sheets on it—the top blanket was turned over—there was no appearance of any person having been in the bed that night—I found no under clothing—I found an old pair of boots under the bed, and some dresses hanging up at the bock of the door—I believe they are there still—the room was not burnt; no flames had reached that room—I found no stockings about, nor garters, nor anything of that kind—I found a coil of rope behind the stack of chimneys—this (produced) is it—it was on the lead work—you get at that out of a little window in the staircase—it
was coiled round in seaman fashion, so as to be handy to chuck down—there are some blankets here, some watches, and some boxes—I found the boxes in the front shop next morning—they were as near the middle of the shop as I could judge—they are much in the same state as when I found them—they have got a little broken about from being moved from place to place—it is impossible to tell how they were placed in reference to the counter, because in going to put the fire out they got knocked about and disturbed—I found some watches, and parts of watches and brooches, partially burnt—I gave them to Dr. Redwood—I also found some table-covers, which I produce—they were lying in the middle of the shop, but not tied up like this—I did not find any oilcloth.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you produced all the oilcloth and table-covers that you found? A. No—not all; the chemists had some pieces of them away—all the rest that were not consumed are here—we tied them up in this way in order to bring them here—that rope was coiled up seaman fashion—I know nothing about the prisoner having been in the merchant service—it was lying down on the brickwork outside the window—I have had a good deal of experience in fires—I examined the house next morning—I do not think the flames hare been up through the house—if they had the wood would have been more burnt; it was only scorched and blistered, and the paint rubbed off—I am of opinion that that was done by smoke and heat, and not by flame.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Were these table-covers amongst the articles found? A. Yes—this came off the table of the first floor front room—here is the mark where the lamp stood—I took the lamp off and put it on the sideboard—these marks are where the feet of the lamp stood—the cloth was on the table in the middle of the room—the smoke must have got all over the rooms, but the walls were not much blackened, very trifling.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you did not arrive there till two o'clock? A. Nearly two—the whole of the shop and everything in it was then burnt up and destroyed—there was a table standing there—the upper part of the house was seriously damaged by fire, smoke, and heat—I do not mean to say that there was fire in the upper rooms; it was damaged by fire.
LEWIS MATTHEW BECKER . I am fire superintendent of the Western Insurance Company—ou 22nd January I went to these premises, which had been burnt—I noticed a very strong smell of some compound—it smelt to me like a mineral oil, paraffin, or something of that description—I did not examine the floor of the shop at first—the walls were extremely blackened—the paint was much blackened and blistered—I examined the flooring of the shop—I found it covered with a deposit—I produce a part of the flooring which I took out from the front room—the whole of the ilooring was of the same appearance—I found a watch in the basement or cellar of the house, underneath the shop—I delivered it to Dr. Redwood about twelve o'clock that day—I was told that a person of the name of Wales desired to see me—I went down to the shop and saw the prisoner—I asked if his name was Wales—ho said, "Yes"—I said, "This is a very bad job"—he said, "Yes, it is"—I asked him how it occurred—he said he did not know—I said, "Did you ever keep any inflammable spirits on the premises"—he said, "Never"—I asked if he had his py—he said,
"Yes, I took it out of the house in a tin box"—there is a glass fanlight, over the shop door—I found a long piece of wood nailed up inside that—I looked at the stoves throughout the house—in the back room, second floor, I observed a deposit of some material which appeared to me like tar—that was inside the register flap, and also on an iron clip which I took out from behind—that is a portion of iron work, with three or four notches in it to keep up the register flap, so as to regulate the draught—there wag a very thick deposit of tar on the outside of that.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you of opinion that the flames got to the upper part of the house? A. I should think not to the whole of the upper part of the house—I dare say the hot air, with a portion of heated smoke, which is a portion of flame, might have got up stairs—I cannot say that flame got up stairs—it seemed to be a sudden rush through the house, of flame, hot air, and smoke combined—I could not say for certain smoke appeared to have been deposited first?
Q. With smoke coming up in vapour, which would afterwards be deposited, would not that require flame? A. That would depend on the draught of flame below: if there was an immense quantity of flame below, it would drive the hot air up; but I am not capable of giving any opinion on that point.
WILLIAM LEWIN . I carry on business at 8, Finch Lane, and am sur-veyor to the Western Insurance Company—ou the 20th November last I examined these premises for the purpose of insurance—I examined the furniture, stock, and fixtures—the furniture was very good indeed—it was ordinary furniture—the stock consisted principally of clothes, chimney ornaments, bronze statuettes, a few watches, and a little mosaic jewellery—I made a report to the office—I did not see the prisoner with reference to the insurance—I saw his wife, and an insurance was latterly effected for 600l. on stock and utensils in trade, 50l. on fixtures, 300l. on household goods, furniture, &c.—in company with Mr. Becker, I went to the same premises the morning after the fire, about a quarter-past twelve, and roughly examined the salvage—I did not go minutely into it, because we had an assessor to look at it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you, on a rough examination, form any estimate of the value of the salvage? A. On a rough examination, I should put the salvage at between 80l. and 100l. altogether, the salvage of the stock and utensils in trade; the things that were saved were worth that, about 90l. I should think—the man does not, as a matter of course, receive the whole of the amount he is insured for: he must prove the amount of his loss—the 600l. would cover the maximum amount—sometimes persons insure for more than the stock and furniture is worth; not always—the prisoner insured originally for 600l. stock—I am not aware that he wrote a letter to the office to diminish the amount.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Taking the character of the goods and the salvage to be from 80l. to 90l., what quantity would that represent on the premises before the fire? A. From a rough estimate, I should think that it would be very small indeed—I should not think there would be anything over 200l.—such things as gold chains and watches will never burn without very great heat—there are glass and musical instruments amongst the usual articles of an unredeemed pledge dealer—we should some
débris, which would enable us to estimate the quantity on the premises—I estimated the 250l., including furniture and everything.
CHARLES WHITE . I live in Park Place, Kennington Cross—I am assessor of losses by fire for several insurance companies—I went over these premises three or four days after the fire. (Referring to a memorandum)—I see I went on the 25th—I made these notes at the time, and from these notes I made a report to the Western Insurance Company—I examined the salvage, and made a summary of it—the attic I valued at 15s., the second floor front at 35l. 6s. 6d., the landing and staircase 19s. 6d., the second floor back at 7l. 2s., the first floor front 23l. 5s. 6d., the first floor back 4l. 17s. 3d., the wash-house 7s. 6d., the kitchen 3l. 2s. 6d., and the stock (the remains of which I saw) 126l. 15s.—that was the value of it when uninjured—I estimated the fixtures, as described by Mr. Lewin, at 28l. 8s. 2d.—they are severely injured by fire—the parlour or room adjoining the shop was severely injured by fire—I could not see the remains, but I allow him for that the same as the first floor front, almost the most expensive room in the house—the total amount of that which I could not see previous to the fire I have put at about 210l.—the value of the debris in the shop was about 10l. or 15l.—I have put down the value of the articles, if not unaffected by fire, at 125l. 15s.—all the rooms were not injured—the value of the rooms I have described is 75l.—the only injury by fire was in the shop and back parlour.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose stock may have been burnt and consumed, of which there was no remains? A. The fire was very slight, I think there may have been some light goods—all the articles of jewellery that were there at the fire are there now—I do not think, in a fire of that magnitude, any articles of jewellery would be destroyed—a diamond ring might be injured—the diamond would pulverise, but you would find the gold of the ring—in a fire of that magnitude I do not think jewellery would be destroyed at all—I do not think it was severe enough to consume a diamond ring—the diamond would be injured by the action of the water; possibly that would cause it to dissolve, but I do not think that the same heat would destroy the gold—the fixtures of the shop were destroyed—I put them at 28l. 8s. 2d. as the value before the fire—I had the opinion of a gentleman in the trade as well—I am an auctioneer and assessor of fires, and have settled 1200 fires—the furniture in the various rooms was damaged by heat and smoke—I have given the value of that as it was before the fire, all the furniture that any person could see, and the remains of the salvage—we represented 202l. 10s. 9d. as the value of it before the fire, furniture and all.
DR. WILLIAM ODLING . I am a fellow of the College of Physicians and lecturer on chemistry at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I was requested to go over the premises in the Prince of Wales Crescent, and have done so on two occasions, on 1st April and 1st May—I examined the state of the walls—I have also been shown some articles that have been brought from the premises—I have not been in Court during the case—in my judgment, the deposit on the walls was a substance of the nature of tar—I have examined it—it is a substance of the character of tar, and in some places, on the windows, of pitch, which is dried tar; that is the only difference—iu setting fire to tar a portion of the tar burns and gives rise to a sooty smoke, and another portion of the tar volatilises, unburnt, and gives rise to this tarry deposit—it would be conveyed in a state of vapour, which would condense in the form of a liquid at first on the cold surface, and then
dry up: it would condense most on the coldest surface—there were symptoms of this deposit on the whole of tho surfaces of the house—the whole of the interior was substantially saturated with it—the walls of the rooms on the first floor were not much affected, but the floor was, and, with the exception of the walls on the first floor, I think the whole of the interior of the house was characteristically covered with this deposit—there is a composition called oil of tar—the combustion of oil of tar would account for all the appearances—the substance on the walls was either tar or pitch but the substance that produced it need not necessarily have been tar or pitch; it may have been of some allied nature, such as oil of tar or lesin—naphtha would account for the blackness and soot—naphtha is coal tar, but it is a name applied to many different substances.
Q. Supposing there was a sudden turst of flame, a thick black smoke with a tarry smell, taking that in connection with the observations you made and the appearances you have described, what in your opinion was it caused by? A. The appearances, taken by themselves, show that a very large amount of combustible vapour was generated quickly, because it had forced its way in a most remarkable manner, which nothing but a sudden evolution could have done; the whole of the windows were more or less covered with a sticky deposit, but in some of the windows this was sufficiently thick to be scraped off in the form of pitch, and in the kitchen the thickness of this pitch was considerable, and also on the window of the top front room; the pitch had condensed on the inside of the upper sashes and had gone out through the crevice, and then been deposited on the upper part of the outside of the lower sashes; the inference would be that while in a state of vapour it had condensed on the sash and got inside—this is a piece of the glass of that window, taken out by Mr. Redwood; here is a portion which I took out myself from the kitchen that was covered on the inside—I do not at this moment call to mind noticing the kitchen floor particularly—the floor of the back room on the landing was entirely black, ana covered with this tarry or pitchy deposit, more particularly a piece of stone in front of the fireplace, which was probably cold—I have looked at this table—cover—the top—was no doubt originally the same colour as the sides, but this black effect was no doubt caused by the deposit of the vapour—that is proved by the fact that where any object sheltered the cloth from the direct falling of the vapour upon it, there You have no vapour deposited, and consequently the mark of the object—here you have the marks of the three feet of the lamp—I saw the cloth upon the table—the part that hangs down is not at all affected, showing that it was not something spilt, but something condensed upon it—here is a mark of a comb, which was evidently lying on the table; of course the vapour in condensing fell on the comb and not on the cloth, and there is the mark of the comb so fine that you can see the teeth—marks, almost as if it was photographed—the paper on the walls was entirely black—that was not from soot, or not entirely from soot, because it would not rub off—it did not soil the fingers—it was varnished on by this deposit—from the streaky character of tho paper where it had been blackened, I was inclined to think at first that the paper had been a watered pattern; but I afterwards found some of it—this is a piece of the staircase paper, and this is a piece just from the very bottom of the staircase—I consider it quite clear from the appearances that there must have been a very sudden exhibition of this vapour, and it must have been from something in a comparatively liquid state, something that would very readily volatilise—I think if
shavings had been saturated with some imflammable liquid, the probability is the liquid would have been burnt and not set free, in this case the greater portion had been volatilised—I have examined the boxes produced, and the result of my observation is that in that box, and more particularly in another, a smaller box, burning had taken place substantially from the inside—this (produced) is the one—I think the character is even more marked in the larger one than in this—there is no appearance in these boxes of the deposit that appeared on the walls—if the liquid had been in these boxes I think I should have expected to find some of the deposit in them; of course the tar, or whatever it was, might have been in some vessel inside the boxes; if the tar had been placed bodily in the boxes I should have expected some residuum, but if it was in a vessel it might or might not be so, it would depend upon the condensation downwards—I mean to say, supposing the tar was in a vessel, and that vessel put in the box, I should not expect to find any marks in the box to indicate that—I had some jewellery shown me—I also saw some of the shop flooring, over which some liquid was said to have been poured—the appearance of the burnt shop floor was as if some burning liquid had flown over it, there were irregular marks—the flooring was simply burnt—I have here the remains of a silver watch—there is no doubt the state of this watch could only have been produced by a very severe fire, and not from a fire in which a large quantity of matter was volatilising, because there you have necessarily a low temperature, the distillation keeps down the temperature; the silver, the glass, and a portion of the handle have been melted—it could not have been exposed to a high temperature, metallurgically speaking—the greatest marks of fire were on the floor under the counter, and the counter itself was not burnt through, so that the articles on the counter could not have been subjected to any great heat—that was shown, more-over, by the remains of the oilcloth covering remaining on the counter not being burnt; in my opinion it is quite impossible that that effect could have been produced by that fire.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you able to say positively that the deposit you found was from oil of tar? A. No; it was of the nature of tar, and there are only certain substances which could have produced it—there is no oil of tar in floorcloth, not in the oilcloth of which I have a specimen here, taken from the place—ordinary oilcloth does not contain oil of tar—floorcloth is made with linseed oil chiefly, in the form of paint, paraffin is not used; there may be sometimes a little of the spirit of paraffin used to volatilise it.
Q. Are you of opinion that the burning of oilcloth or floorcloth would account for the appearances in the upper room? A. It is not only a matter of opinion, but I have no hesitation whatever in saying it would not, in no quantity—if you get some unusual kind of oilcloth, I do not know what may happen, but I know very well the properties of ordinary oilcloth, and that wo found in the remains on the premises, and I have made experiments with it—if it did contain something in the nature of oil of tar, it would depend upon the quantity and the time during which it was consumed, whether it would account for the appearances in the upper part of the house; if a considerable quantity of india-rubber or gutta-percha were heated, it would boil and volatilise, and produce something that might be called in the nature of oil of tar—I have made experiments upon this oilcloth in several ways—I have burnt it—when I burnt it in a particular way I was able to extract a resinous matter from it—if you take a piece of it in a thin slip, and set fire to it, it burns with very considerable activity,
and under those circumstances it produces very little soot, and practically no vapour—at the same time, if you heat it in a mass or roll, by putting it on a fire or heating it with charcoal, it burns very little and it distils a great deal, but very slowly, and moreover in that case, where it only distils and does not burn, you have all the form of the oilcloth left, and more than half its weight remaining—if you operate in a particular manner it is possible to get from this a something in the nature of oil of tar, but still a very different kind of substance from the deposit found upon these different articles; in the first place, it is not so siccative, it does not dry up into a pitch-like mass, and the smell is entirely different—you can make it pretty well any colour you like; if you pistil it in such a manner that it shall be all distilled no soot is formed, and the substance is of a comparatively light colour; if you partially distil and burn it you have a good deal of soot mixed up with it.
Q. Supposing a great quantity of oilcloth, subjected to a mass of flame, no matter now it originated, burning with great intensity from the midst of the oilcloth, would not something be produced in the nature of oil of tar? A. Put in that general way, yes; and it would, of course, go up in vapour—it would not be deposited in the same way that I found it here, because it is a slow process to produce it from this oilcloth, and the vapour produced in the house had evidently been produced suddenly—it might have been produced from the oilcloth, if there was time enough, but then the appearance would have been different—I was not of opinion that gas had been generated in the upper part of the house—there must have been smoke or soot in the upper part of the house, but whether there was flame or not I can't say, I don't think there was any evidence of it—there was scorching—the paint was scorched, the woodwork was not charred—I think it doubtful if much flame went up the staircase.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Would india-rubber or any kind of oilcloth you have ever seen, suddenly burst into a flame, with a thick black smoke? A. No—india-rubber in a mass burns very slowly, and this extremely slowly; we put a mass of half a pound of this on a fresh fire, and it was more than half an hour before we could get the whole of it consumed; it is very difficult to burn—if a substance volatilises slowly the vapour disperses, it makes for the readiest channel—neither the theory of burning india-rubber or oilcloth will account for the appearances I noticed.
DR. WILLIAM ALLEN MILLER . I am professor of chemistry at King's College—I have been on these premises and seen the darkened substance on the walls and on the table-cloth, and the deposit on the windows—the only way in which those appearances can be accounted for, in my judgment, is by the sudden combustion of some substance of a resinous or turpentine character, hydro-carbon—tar oil would be of that kind—tar oil has a very characteristic smell; every one knows the smell of wood tar, it is something of that nature—I smelt it distinctly when I went on the premises, in one of the rooms particularly there was a very strong smell of wood tar—the slow combustion of oilcloth or india-rubber would not account for the appearances—I took some things from the premises, here is a white china dish cover that was in the kitchen, it is so completely covered that I don't know whether there is any patterns on it; this has been done by the volatilisation I speak of; it was resting against the wall, and it is covered both before and behind with this volatilised matter—here is a piece of the paper stripped from the wall in the passage; it shows the kind of way in which this has come down—this is from the lowest part near the floor, and
from there to the top of the house it was completely stained in this manner—this is not charring, but something deposited upon the paper and soaked and which I have afterwards been able to dissolve out and identify in as a tarry oily liquid—this is a portion taken from the front bedroom at the top of the house; it is completely blackened in the same way, not charred, but blackened by this deposit—I have also, some pieces of glass—this is a piece which was taken from the kitchen window, and on it there is a quantity of a black pitch-like deposit, which burns when it is scraped off; it shows very much like pitch, it melts, and burns with a bright smoky flame—the quantity of oil from which this vapour came must hare been considerable—I don't know to what extent, it would be rather a guess to say, but about two gallons, or something like that; I cannot tell—front one to two gallons probably—the appearances which the house presented were those of a sudden burst of flame, accompanied by a large quantity of some black tarry matter and vapour—a great sweep of name had evidently gone up the staircase, the bulk of heat was most manifest at the bottom; the marks of scorching and burning of the paint diminished as you went up; the quantity of this black deposit was very considerable, and it was distributed through the house in the most remarkable manner—in general the doors had been shut at the time, but the great expansion of the air produced by this burst had carried the smoke into the rooms and deposited it on the surface of the furniture, hangings, and upon almost everything; it had been even forced into some of the drawers and stained some of the linen—it had actually found its way into a cupboard and stained what was hanging there.
Cross-examined. Q. You speak of a sweep of flame: are you of opinion that the flame did go up the house? A. I have no doubt it did go a considerable distance up the staircase, to the first floor—it scorched the paint on the back of the first floor door—that would be caused by a hot blast of air—I can't say whether it was actual flame.
DR. THEOPHILUS REDWOOD . I am professor of chemistry to the Pharmaceutical Society—I handed some articles of jewellery to Dr. Odling—they are in Court—this is the watch—I have looked at that watch and some articles of jewellery, and have examined the premises—I did so about three days after the fire—from the appearance of the rooms and the description given by the firemen, I think I was able to judge of the character of the fire there had been—I do not think it possible that this watch could have been broaght to that state by that fire—there are some faces of watches here where there is evidence of very intense heat having been applied; the enamel of the watch has been fused—I do not think with such a flame as constituted the principal part of the fire in that shop, that effect could have been produced in the time the fire lasted—I saw the state of the walls and flooring, and am of the same opinion with Dr. Odling as to the cause of it.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you are of opinion that gas was generated in the upper part of the house? A. No, in the lower part, and that it ascended partly in flame and partly in vapour—flame or hot air must have ascended to the upper part of the house to cause the blistering of the paint.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Had gas anything to do with the fire? A. Not at all, not ordinary gas.
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence:—
morning of 22nd January I was awoke by a noise from the front—I had been in bed since nine o'clock—I listened and thought I heard a woman scream—I opened the window, and saw a woman standing on the flat, the roof of the house, in her night dress, screaming—she was at the height of eighteen or twenty feet from the yard—I heard somebody say, "Can't you jump?"—I said, "For God's sake don't jump, for I have got ladders"—no sooner had I said the words than two men were over the wall taking my ladder—they were getting it over the wall into the court as I rushed down stairs and helped to raise it against the wall, as they were not used to ladders—I held the back of it to save it from slipping, as it was a very slippery night, while somebody fetched the prisoner's wife down; she was in her night dress and had got her stockings on—she was taken into No. 2, Charles Place, Mrs. Thredder's, opposite the back entrance—there is a passage at the back—about three years prior to the fire I was employed by Mr. Taylor, the landlord, to help paint this house—at that time turps was very dear, about 12s. a gallon—they got a kind of naphtha stuff to put in the paint—when I was at the fire I smelt just the same smell as when I painted the house—I was taken ill with the nasty-smelling stuff—it won't flare, it makes a smut—I have tried it since—the board over the fanlight had been there before the prisoner came to the house.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you saw the prisoner's wife on the leads; did you see the prisoner? A. No, I ran across to my employer to tell him that one of the houses was on fire—I saw the prisoner up at the top, but I did not see him come down—I just saw his head from his waist over the parapet.
JURY. Q. Did you paint the inside of the house? A. Yes, I gave it two coats, and they had a painter to give it the last two coats, as I am only a jobbing bricklayer.
WILLIAM KING . I live at 3, Little Charles Place, Prince of Wales Road—I occupy a room looking towards the prisoner's house—about one o'clock in the morning of 22nd January I was at home—I had not been to bed—I had neuralgia in my face and was very poorly, and was sitting up for my son—I heard a noise in the passage, a woman screaming—I went down and saw a ladder being put up towards the wall behind Wales's house—I saw Mrs. Wales getting on the ladder, and Mr. Wales got on it afterwards—I saw Mrs. Wales come down the ladder in her night dress—I assisted her off—she could hardly get down, because the ladder was not put as it is generally in front of a house, very nearly perpendicular, but almost flat, and she had to leave in this way and walk down—I believe she had no shoes on.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the prisoner? A. Yes, he was at the top of the ladder—he was coming down, and he turned back again and threw some clothes from the top over into the passage or court—I spoke to him afterwards, not then—he had no hat or coat on when he was on the ladder; and I believe no shoes.
SUSAN THREDDER . I am the wife of Joseph Thredder, of 2, Charles Place—the front of our house faces the back of the prisoner's—on the night of the fire I heard my son's voice—I came down stairs and saw Mrs. Wales in her night dress—she said something to me—I saw her black silk skirt on my mat—she asked for a pin to pin it on—I gave her one—she had a shawl over her shoulders—her stays and boots were on the mat—I asked her to come in and sit down, she would not, and I went up the court with her.
JOSEPH THREDDER , Junior. I am the son of last witness—on the morning of the fire I heard a great scream and cries of "Help me! help me!"—after some little time I went out and went towards the prisoner's house, and I saw Mrs. Wales coming down the ladder—she was in her shift, her night shirt—she walked into my mother's house with a great lot of things in her arms, and asked me for pins to pin them on—she dressed herself in my place—I asked her to come into the back room; she said no.
Cross-examined. Q. There she dressed herself, in the front room? A. No, in the passage—she asked me for pins, and I took them to her in my shirt—she appeared to be very much distressed, she was weeping and crying all the while and pinning on her skirt—I won't say whether it was silk, satin, or what.
EDWARD EDWARDS . I am a labourer, and live 7, Southampton Terrace, Gospel Oak, Kentish Town—about ten minutes before one on the morning of the fire I was in the street, and saw a man knocking at the prisoner's door—I went and knocked for fully a quarter of an hour, the other man went for the engine—I did not hear any noise in the house till after I had knocked fully a quarter of an hour, then I heard screams of "Fire!" on the leads—I stopped till two gentlemen came by—I then went round to the back with my wife and two gentlemen, and saw Mr. and Mrs. Wales on the leads in their night dresses—I heard Roberts cry out that there was a ladder—I got on the wall, unloosed the ladder, and helped place it against the house, and Mrs. Wales came down in her night dress—I saw Mr. Wales on the roof—I did not see him do any anything when his wife same down-some clothes were thrown off from the top of the roof.
Cross-examined. Q. Were Wales and his wife both in their night dresses? A. Yes, I am quite certain of that—I was up on the top of the wall, there can be no mistake about it—neither lie nor his wife had more than one garment on—I did not see Mr. Wales come down—I did not wait for that—the ladder was put up against the leads—I can't say whether it was kept in a place where it could be seen from the back of the prisoner's house—it was close by, it used always to stand there—I did not know the Wales's.
MARIA EDWARDS . I am the wife of the last witness—on the morning of the fire we were passing, and saw smoke coming out of the shop—my husband knocked at the door for some time, and after hearing cries of alarm we went to the back of the house, and saw a lady crying for help—my husband raised the ladder from next door but one, and assisted her down—she first threw her clothes down to me; she was in her night dress—I assisted her into Mrs. Thredder's house, and carried her clothes on my arms—they were her under-garments to her stays—I was not present when she dressed.
Cross-examined. Q. You are quite certain she threw them down herself? A. I am quite certain—she had not got them in her hand when shes descended, she had thrown them down—I suppose they were on the roof—I saw her stoop and pick up something and throw them down—they turned out to be her clothes, all her under-clothing, and a black stuff dress—it was not a silk skirt—there were two pairs of shoes came down, one pair of gentlemen's and one of ladies—she did not throw down any thing else, more than wearing apparel—I did not count the pieces—there were two or three black garments, but I think only one dress—my husband had knocked at the door for fully a quarter of an hour, and as loud as he could—we saw that there was a fire in the shop—nobody answered from the front window.
MR. RINTON. Q. Did you see any of Mr. Wales's garments thrown down?
A. A pair of shoes—I believe all the things that Mrs. Wales threw down were articles of female wearing apparel—I did not notice a pair of breeches among them—I saw Mr. Wales descend from the ladder—he had a coat thrown over his shoulder—he had no trousers on.
JOSEPH THREDDER . I reside at 2, Charles Place—I know the prisoner, and have frequently been in the habit of making purchases at his shop—he had a very good stock—I went there three or four days before the fire—he had a very good stock then: there was clothing—I was looking round, seeing what was in the house, and I bought a waistcoat, which I have here—I saw rolls of oilcloth in the shop, and jewellery and several watches—I saw no difference in the stock on the last occasion.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you often in the shop? A. Yes, I have been there to buy things—I don't know whether there were any bronze things there—there were several clocks and watches, I can't say how many, and a great number of ornaments, metal things, some in the window and some in cases on the counter—it was very full of things: it could not be fuller—they appeared to be valuable articles, what I could see of them—I did not know the prisoner before he took that shop—I have not been there since the fire—the oilcloth was on the other side of the counter as you went in at the door—they were tightly rolled up.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Do you know whether the prisoner is deaf? A. I believe he is rather hard of hearing—I am not sure.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Is his wife deaf too? A. Not that I am aware of.
ELIZABETH BRAY . I am the wife of William Bray, of 14, Grosvenor Street, Commercial Road East—I know the prisoner and his wife—on the day of the fire I went to see the prisoner's wife between two and three in the afternoon—I was there till nine o'clock—about five o'clock I went up Into the bedroom with her, and saw her make the bed—there were blankets and a counterpane on the bed, no sheets—there were pillows and a bolster—I had been in the habit of going to the prisoner's shop from time to to time—I went into the shop twice when I was there last—I did not see any difference in the stock to what I had seen on former occasions.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know the prisoner when he lived at 7, Addington Terrace, Kirby Street, Poplar? A. Yes—I knew him, but I was not living in London then—I was never there—sailors mostly sleep in blankets, I do myself in winter—I saw some watches in the case at the prisoner's—I saw none that appeared to have been burnt.
JANE ROBERTS . I am the wife of Edward Roberts, a bricklayer, and live next door but one to the prisoner—I have been in the habit of going to his shop from time to time—I went into the shop about three days before the fire—I was there between three and four in the afternoon of the day before the fire—I did not see the slightest difference in the stock—I thought it was a very good stock.
WILLIAM HAWKER . I reside next door to the prisoner—I have occasionally gone into his shop—it seemed pretty full of things—I could not tell exactly what the stock consisted of—I was at the shop door on the night of the fire—I did not see any difference in the stock.
JAMES EVANS . I am a shoe maker, and live at 3, Winchester Street, Maldon Road—my brother is also a shoe maker—he lived at the house where the fire was, before the prisoner—his regular workshop used to be the little room at the top of the house—that was where his bench would be, and where he would use his wax, and different things in his trade—he has
worked in three rooms in the house: he worked there about four months altogether—I can't say that I have seen the wax stick on the floor; but there is hardly one shoe maker's shop in a hundred but the wax will be on the floor.
J. T. SMITH. I am a pawnbroker and silversmith at Plymouth—the prisoner has been in the habit of dealing with me for some time as a customer—I sold him some goods last year—these (produced) are the invoices I gave him—there was one parcel for 68l. 16s. 10d. on 18th September; another on 23rd September for 98l. 12s. 6d.; another on 25th September, 45l. 7s. 3d.; on 29th September, 63l. 6s. 6d.; and on 7th December, 38l. 18s. 6d.; altogether, 315l. 1s. 7d.—he has paid for all those goods, with the exception of the last parcel—he paid me 70l. on 18th September; about 30th October I received 130l., and the balance I received about the first week in January—the goods were sent by luggage train.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known him? A. About sixteen years—I knew him when he lived in Addington Terrace, Kirby Street Poplar—I think I sold him about two parcels of goods there—I believe it was in September last year, that he opened this business—I believe he had had a fire at Poplar, and his stock there was destroyed.
MR. RIBTON. Q. From whom did you hear that there was a fire there? A. I heard it from Mr. Wales himself some time after—I heard that they settled with him satisfactorily—I don't know what amount was paid him.
WILLIAM HARDING . I am a floor cloth manufacturer at Bristol—in October and December last I sold some articles to the prisoner—these are the invoices—there were six parcels altogether: one on 24th September for 2l. 16s. and another for 3l. 12s.; one for 23l., on 25th September, for twenty pieces of oil baize, nine pieces of American cloth, and ten pieces of table cover; on 7th December, 192 yards of stair cloth, 6l. 8s.; six pieces of marble table covering; 19th December, forty-eight yards of floor cloth and six pieces of oil baize, 29l. 14s.—I have no other invoices—I sold him other goods—on 1st October some floor cloth and stair cloth for 11l. 8s., and on 19th November 12l.—there was another parcel of about 7l. delivered to him from Messrs. Toplin, of Gresham Street; that was something I had not in stock—I am a maker of the floor cloth—it is made of canvas, and stair cloth of calico—we either glue it with size made from glue, or a portion of bullock's blood—then we paint it—we use boiled oil, raw linseed oil, and paint of different colours—that is the only oil we use—it is very inflammable—there is a good deal of oil in the oil covers—I believe it is boiled oil—I am not a manufacturer of that.
Cross-examined. Q. What do you mean by their being very inflammable? A. They burn very readily—if they once catch fire they will blaze quickly; if it is a very strong fire they will not leave much remains; I had about thirty tons burnt at one time, and there was not much left of it—I never supplied the prisoner with any before this; I understood he was just commencing business at this place—he paid me 621, in cash—19l. 4s. is owing.
GEORGE JOSEPHS . I live at 8, Wilderness Bow, Clerkenwell, and am a manufacturing goldsmith and jeweller—this is an invoice of goods sold by me to a person named Wales, on 7th November, 1866: thirty gold-mounted Alberts, at 12s. each; fourteen best gilt Alberts, 6s. each.; twenty-eight ditto guards, 10s. each; sixteen best plated brooches, 8s. each and thirty-six pair of earrings; total, 51l. 12s.
Cross-examined. Q. Is this the original invoice delivered to the purchaser, or a copy? A. The original; it comes out of the prisoner's possession.
WILLIAM BRAY . I have known the prisoner ten or twelve years—about three months before the fire I gave him a piece of ratlin—I am a seafaring man—this is the rope I gave Captain Wales—I should say it was something like two or three months before the fire—I could not pretend to say exactly—I have been sixteen years a shipowner and captain, and have stores of all descriptions; and I gave that to Captain Wales—he was formerly captain of a vessel—as long as I have known him he was a thoroughly respectable man and well respected by all who knew him—I have known him intimately—I never saw him smoke, I have cracked many bottles of champagne with him—I never sailed with him.
Cross-examined. Q. Where were you when you gave him this piece of rope? A. I think it was in Queen Street; it might be outside the door or it might be inside, I would not say; but I placed the rope somewhere in the vicinity of Queen Street or Stepney—he asked me for a piece to fasten some crates on to a truck or waggon when he moved from Queen Street—I did not know him in Addington Terrace, Poplar—I know he had a place in Poplar, but I was not in London at the time—I know nothing of any fire there—I don't know where Addington Terrace is—he had a fire in Poplar, I know—I know it now; I heard of it; but not in Addington Terrace—I can't tell whether it took place in the May preceding this fire—I never heard of his having a fire at Dover—I never knew him going by the name of Bryant—I believe he was put into a place, at Stepney; I believe by a person named Bryant—there was a fire in that place, I believe, but I know nothing about it—I was not in London then—I heard of it since I have been London this last time.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did he move from Queen Street to Prince of Wales Crescent? A. Yes; it was there I gave him the rope to lash his trunks on—I have known him ten or twelve years—he lived in a place of mine when I had a public-house in London.
FREDERICK JOHN TURK . I am a wheelwright at 7, St. George's Place—I have known the prisoner about twenty years, and always found him a well-conducted man; he bears that character—he never smoked a pipe of tobacco in his life—I have sailed with him several voyages, and I know it; I am satisfied if he drew three or four times out of a pipe he would be sick—I was in his shop a short time before the fire—I thought he had a very good stock—there was gas in the shop; there were burners from the ceiling; the meter was under the window—I don't know that there was anything wrong with the meter, but I know there was something wrong with the pipes—I stopped them up myself with tallow that was within a day or two of the fire; it was one of the pipes under the window—it was half off, I think—I stopped it sufficient to make it safe for the time—I have had to stop them in a similar way in my place—I smelt the gas at his place when I entered the premises on more than one occasion.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know him when the fire happened in Stepney? A. Yes, he was living in the house at the time—I believe the place was insured—I knew him when he lived at Poplar, when the house was burnt down—I never heard of an accident of the same kind at Dover—I never heard of any other fire—I have been unlucky in that way my
self—I had a fire, and I put it out myself—I was insured, and I made no claim.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you put it out before any damage was done? A. No; a great deal of damage was done—I don't know how it happened—I don't think it very likely that I set fire to it myself—the fire at Stepney was at Mrs. Bryant's house—the prisoner was lodging there with his wife—I heard he lost all the little things he had and did not get anything for it—he had some of my nautical instruments there.
GEORGE JOSEPH (re-examined). I knew Mr. Wheeler, a dealer in Jewellery, of 164, Esmond Road, Victoria Park—I was at his burying—I know his writing—these receipts (produced) are his writing. (These were receipts for goods supplied to the prisoner, as follows:—74l. 7s. 6d. on Septmber 22nd, 1866; 62l. 15s. on September 21th, 1866; and 15l. on December 18th, 1866.) The deposition of Reney was put in and read.
JAMES BRADLEY . I have had thirty years' experience as a fireman, and have been twenty years member of the Fire Brigade—I am still retained in the fire offices, doing business for them occasionally—on 11th February I went to this house in Prince of Wales Crescent, to examine the premises—I found the first and second floor walls blackened—I did not find the slightest trace of tar or spirit of any kind—I examined tho floors, and, making allowance for the interval since 21st, I could find not the slightest trace of what may be called tar—there was not the slightest thing in the appearance of the house unusual where a fire has taken place.
Cross-examined. Q. The ordinary appearances of an ordinary fire, is that what I am to understand you to convey? A. The appearances were I no different to an ordinary fire—there were not the slightest deposits on the walls—the deposit was pretty nearly gone when I got there—the deposit on the walls was very slight—I did not say that there was none at all—the slight deposit was a sort of vapour that would occur from an ordinary fire, such as the steam from any material that might be in the house or shop: water, for instance, would assist in doing it—it might not have come from a tea-kettle—the black on the walls would be from the smoke from the fire—I think it was ordinary smoke—this is ordinary smoke on this table cloth—supposing it to be lying on the table, this effect might have been produced by ordinary smoke—I have seen thousands of leases of the same sort.
MR. RIBTON. Q. In what state did you find the walls? A. The paper was peeling off the walls from the heat of the fire and smoke of an ordinary character—the walls were all discoloured—they were block, which was decidedly the result of smoke—judging from my experience, and from these appearances, there must not have been a considerable body of flame in the upper part of the house—there would be quite sufficient smoke from the lower part to have done all the black, and to have smoked everything in the house.
RICHARD HENRY MOORE . I am a chemist, of 3, St. George's Place, Back Road East—I have been a chemist all my life—I was brought up from nine years of age in that occupation—I went over this house about 6th or 7th February, observed the appearance of the walls and floors, and took away portions of the paper, and of some of the boards from the upper part of the house—I subjected the deposit on them to analysis, from which I am able to say that the deposit in the flooring consisted of heelball or shoemakers' wax—there was nothing on the flooring to my knowledge—I took the flooring from the back room first floor, which was inhabited while
Mr. Wales had it—the deposit on the paper and walls was carbon—it was the deposit arising from the consumption of the floor cloth and table covering—supposing a fire to have broken out in the shop, among the contents of which were floor cloth and table covering, which were burnt, the ascent of the smoke or smoky flame charged with that matter would be quite sufficient to account for the appearances in the upper part of the house—I express that opinion with certainty, as far as a matter of opinion can be certainty—I say it on my belief—I took portions of the table covering and stair covering from the débris in the shop, which we have in Court—there was a large mass of débris in the back room, but I did not find any burnt matter; it consisted of part of the plate glass front, and the electro-plated tea and coffee service, melted—it was collected together in the back room—there was a large heap; perhaps over a cart load—I can hardly judge of the quantity—it presented the appearance of a black burnt mass in minute fragments—it was from that that I took this piece, of oilcloth (produced)—this is a piece of the plate glass shop front—you may see that some of it has fused, but this is not the fused part—this is only from the severe contraction, the cold going on it from the fire-engine playing—this piece of glass is not fused—from the appearance presented by the plate glass, there must have been a very great amount of heat indeed—this piece is not a sample of that which showed the most heat—this piece (produced) shows me that there must have been a very large amount of heat in the internal part, and the body of water playing on the front caused the contraction you see—there is nothing in this piece which can be called fused—I picked these pieces of floor cloth out of the débris of the shop—the house was in charge of the fireman, and I signed a receipt for them—I made experiments on the portions of the floor cloth I took away, and judge that they were made of paraffin oil or patent turpentine, boiled oil and dryers, sugar of lead, in the principal part of it, and that caused the amount of carbon to be deposited—I came to the conclusion that there was either paraffin oil or patent turpentine in it, on account of the smell and the flame it evolved, and the appearance when it was burnt—I examined the table covers—their composition was similar—the burning of a quantity of floor cloth and table covers, the matter being carried upwards in the smoky flame would, in my judgment, be sufficient to account for the appearances presented in the upper parts of the house; it was all of the same character—I examined the bottles and glasses, on which there was a deposit arising from burning wood—a large quantity of wood had been burnt in the shop—something in the nature of tar can be extracted from burnt wood—that would also ascend in burning—it is my opinion that the deposit was in the nature of tarry matter.
Cross-examined. Q. What is your business really? A. A chemist, as analytical chemist—I do not keep a shop now—I did, in Watling Street, Commercial Road East—I never saw the prisoner before February—I was always a chemist and druggist—I was brought up as a surgeon—I am now getting my living in the best manner I possibly can—I am prescribing and mixing medicines, and doing medicine chests—I prescribe in my own place as a chemist and druggist—I am gaining my livelihood by prescribing for persons in my own place—if I had a shop I could prescribe—my place is No. 3, St. George's Place, Back Road East—I have not a shop there—I have a private house—there is nothing on the door but the knocker and the handle—people know me so well in that part I don't put my name on the door—I prescribe for any one who is ill who comes to
me—I am not acting as a qualified doctor—I could do so—I can hardly tell you how I came to be in this case—Mr. Wales's brother-in-law is an old friend of mine, and he said he wanted me to give evidence—it was through him my services have been obtained—his name is Thomas Turk—I really don't know what he is—I believe he sells horses, or something of that kind, or is a wheelwright—I really don't know—I knew him when he kept a public-house—he is not an old friend—he is a person I have been acquainted with for some time—I say that the deposit on the floor was cobblers' wex—it did not cover the floor—I only took a piece of it away—there is no tar in cobblers' wax—I scraped some of the matter off the walls and analysed it, first by trying whether it would dissolve in water—it would not—then I dried it—I found that it was carbon—I threw it away after I dried it—I found it was carbon because it was insoluble—I put dilute sulphuric acid to it, and I could not dissolve it—I wanted to see whether it would dissolve or whether it would float—it floated in the acid—I subjected it to my chemical tests, and I was quite satisfied it was carbon, because it would not consume, only at a very extreme heat—it would only just fuse—I did not expect it to consume in sulphuric acid—it passed off in vapour like soot—that was not when I put it into sulphuric acid—I tried it first in water and it was insoluble, and I tried it afterwards with liquor potassi, liquor of potass—I tried a piece of the paper from the wall, about half a sheet of note size—I expected that would dissolve in water, but I found it did not—then I tried liquor of potass—I expected by that means to find an oily material that would amalgamate with the potass, and make a kind of black soap—I do not mean that I found an oily preparation in the potass, but on the paper—the soapy matter was not sufficiently unctuous to wash your hands in, but it answered my purpose—it showed me I was correct in my theory, that the oily matter had ascended from the burning floor cloth, and deposited itself on the walls—it was not only carbon, there are other things with it—there is the oily matter—I tried the liquor potassi, and also the acid—they were both going on at the same time—they did not bring me to the same result—the result of the sulphuric acid was nothing at all, no benefit—I never analysed oilcloth before—I did so on this occasion, I swear that; I ascertained its component parts—in my opinion I found paraffin oil in the floor cloth—it was only in the form of vapour—the walls did not smell of tar, they smelt smoky—I did not see any trace of tar, only on the pictures and the jug—there were traces of tar there—there is only a smoky smell on this table cover—I can't account for the appearance of it—I can only account for it just in the same style as the carpets; the carpets were in the same manner—it looks like some deposit of soot upon it—(Looking at a hearth-rug) I do not smell any tar here, it is only a sooty smell. (The rug was handed to the Jury, who said it smelt strongly of tar or turpentine).
MR. RIBTON. Q. In your judgment, what does it smell of? A. Smoke—there must have been a considerable volume of smoke—the smell of smoke was great—I have not passed any medical examination, because I have not had sufficient money to do so—if any one will give me the money I will undergo it—I am not a member of the College of Surgeons or a licentiate of the Apothecaries' Company—if the smoke ascending from below got through the crevices at the top of the door, that would be sufficient to account for the deposit of smoke on this table cover—the heat in the shop must have been very great indeed, and in my judgment it would produce these appearances ou this watch—I should think it was recent.
WILLIAM CROOKES , Esq. I am a fellow of the Royal Society, and am editor of the Chemical News—I examined the premises, 27, Prince of Wales Crescent, the day before yesterday—I examined the paper on the walls in several rooms and different parts, I think all over the house—the paper appeared covered with uniform black deposit—it appeared most likely to be caused by a thick black smoke having settled upon it—I examined the boards in different parts of the house, they were coated in a similar way to the paper, and in addition there seemed to be a thick oily matter in some parts—I could not tell what that was caused by—it might have been produced by many different things—I believe I know the component parts of oil-covering and oilcloth, such as I observed among the débris—in my opinion the consumption by fire in the lower parts of the house, of such oil-cloth and oil-covering, would produce the effects I saw on the wall, and the deposit on the floor up stairs—oil-covering is a fabric covered over with oily matter; dried boiled linseed oil is the principal component, I believe, but I am not very well acquainted with the process of manufacture—I have made some experiments by burning some of this oil-covering—when I went over the house I saw certain appearances on the walls, on the floor, on the picture frames, and on the glass, and I thought it very probable that the combustion of oilcloth in the lower part of the house would produce the same appearances—I tried the experiment with some of the identical oil-cloth that I took from the premises, and I succeeded in imitating that most perfectly—I set fire to the oilcloth, and when the air had free access to it it burnt with a very smoky flame—upon placing a piece of glass or paper, over that flame the glass and paper were covered with a thick smoke—a black deposit of smoke and soot—that effect was produced when the air had tolerably free access to it, but when it was burnt in a very confined space of air a destructive distillation went on, and an oily matter was evolved that went up in vapour, and condensed upon any cold surface which I placed above it—I placed some of the blackest paper and blackened glass, blackened with the smoke of it; the vapour condensed on this, and produced a similar appearance of the streaks running down that I saw on the glass in the house—by regulating the supply of air during the combustion I could produce both those effects simultaneously—the dense black smoke rose on to the paper and glass and porcelain that I had placed above it, and was, so to say, cemented on to the surface by the oily matter producing a black shiny deposit, exactly similar to that seen on the jugs and other things that were in the house—I believe I have given all the results of the experiments I made—I believe they would account for the deposit on the floor, as well as that on the walls—I think the appearances upon this table cover, might be produced by condensed smoke ascending from the lower part of the house where oilcloth was burning, and forcing its way through the closed door; the room would be filled with smoke, and the smoke would gradually settle down upon anything that was in its way; it would naturally not settle upon the part that was hanging—tar is produced by the dry distillation of wood—the circumstance of a fire in a house would be very favourable to the production of tar.
Q. Taking the results of the experiments you made, supposing a great quantity of this oilcloth, oil-covering, or oil print in the lower part of the house, would there be a considerable quantity of the same kind of liquid that you produced by your experiments escape to the upper part of the house in vapour, so as to become such a substance as you perceived in your experiments? A. It is all a question of the amount of oilcloth that was in
the lower part—if there was sufficient I believe it would produce the I effect.
Cross-examined. Q. I presume the experiments you tried with the oilcloth you tried with small pieces and folded? A. I tried it principally rolled up; not such a roll as was in the house, but a few square inches rolled up in my fingers to imitate as nearly as possible the condition under which it was burnt in the house—oilcloth will not burn quickly if tightly rolled up—I tried several experiments; in some cases it was more tightly rolled up than in others, the more tightly it was rolled up the more slowly it would burn—I did not analyse the oilcloth at all, so as to ascertain what the elements were, but I think a chemist knows sufficient to speak on such a point—it was sufficient for my purpose to know that it was oily matter—possibly the oilcloth is not all composed alike—I do not know whether it is or not, but I should say not—I only used the oilcloth I took from the house—the term "tar" is such a very vague term, it simply means a resinous thick oily matter, very dark coloured; when oilcloth is burnt it would produce exactly that appearance—there is no tar is oilcloth—tar is a product of destructive distillation—there is nothing of the nature of tar in oilcloth any more than there is in wood—by distilling oilcloth you can get something in the nature of tar—it would not take me many minutes to do it if I had the materials—I examined the deposit on the walls, not chemically; I did not analyse it—it is impossible to say from the appearance of this table cover whether it could have been produced by the burning of oilcloth, but I should certainly say that the room in which this was lying hod been full of smoke, which hod gradually settled on it—it is impossible to say whether there is any tar on it—I know what oil of tar is—if a gallon and a half or two gallons of it in a vessel was reached by flame it would rapidly volatilise and burn with a smoky flame; there would be a great mass of black smoke and vapour, which would penetrate through every crevice, and it would produce this appearance—I believe all the effects I sec on that table cloth could be produced in that way—the piece of glass produced by Dr. Odling has a tarry smell—this appearance would certainly be produced by a sudden rush of vapour arising from the combustion of tar-oil—I should expect to see the inside of the glass present a similar appearance to the outside—I believe that such a combustion could arise from the burning of oilcloth—it is simply a question of quantity.
Q. Take any quantity of oilcloth you like, and place it in any way you desire, would a fire suddenly reaching that oilcloth produce a sudden burst of black smoke, almost suffocating the persons who were near, and a quantity of vapour, passing all over the house? A. I do not think it would.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Where a quantity of oilcloth is exposed to the action of fire must not combustion be going on for some time before it breaks out into smoke and flame. A. If the oilcloth had been previously exposed to the action of the heat a process of dry distillation would go on; that dry distillation would produce a quantity of oily matter, and the heat coming suddenly on that oily matter afterwards might produce the effect, but I was given to understand that the oilcloth was supposed not to have been exposed to the heat previously—I cannot say that I know the contents of the shop; it was entirely in ruins—the destructive distillation of wood and floor cloth together, with a volume of smoke ascending, would certainly be sufficient to account for the evolution of something in the nature of tar; it cannot possibly be otherwise—it would not only produce
sometliing in the nature of tar, but it would produce tar itself—I believe that that something in the nature of tar found oti the floor in the upper part of the house would be accounted for by the burning of the oilcloth and other matters in the shop below, but the expression, "something in the nature of tar," is excessively vague—I was enabled by actual experiments with the burning oilcloth, to produce precisely the same appearance—I will not say that that must have been produced by it, but that may have been, and probably was—of course if two gallons were in the shop that might account for the appearances, but the appearances may also be accounted for by the burning of the materials shown to me as having been in the shop—I believe the one would produce them just as readily as the other—portions of the oilcloth rolled up were shown to me; in some of the experiments I made I rolled up the oilcloth in a similar way.
COURT. Q. I understood you to say that all the experiments were tried with small pieces of oilcloth a few inches square? A. Yes—I did not try any experiment of how it would burn when rolled up as it was in the shop—tar or pitch is formed from destructive distillation—I should scarcely think it could be produced by the destructive distillation of dried linseed oil, but I am really speaking without much knowledge on the subject.
JURY. Q. We wish to have your opinion as to that rug? A. This seems similar to the table cloth—judging from the smell, it has been exposed to the burning wood, wood smoke, which would be the same as tar, or almost the same.
CHARLES WILLIAM HEATON . I am professor of chemistry to Charing Cross Hospital Medical College, and have been so for four or five years—I visited the premises 27, Prince of Wales Crescent, on Monday, 1st April—I examined the carpet—I do not think I have a piece of it with me, but I have the extract which I took from it—I observed a deposit on the carpet—it seemed a black smoky sort of deposit, smelling somewhat tarry—I took it to the hospital, and in the course of the following day or two I examined it as well as I could—I took a square piece, where the deposit appeared thickest—I boiled a small piece of the carpet with ether—I then poured off the ether and evaporated the solution, and so obtained dryness—I have the basin in which I performed the operation; it has the residue in it—there is a small yellow deposit on the evaporation, a some-what tarry or oily-looking substance—I found that this was acid to test paper—supposing a quantity of oil-cover and oilcloth had been burnt in the lower part of the house, to the best of my belief that would account for the deposit I found on the carpet—I tore a piece of paper off the walls and took it home with me, but did not subject it to any special chemical examination—I also found the deposit on the paper; it was, however, of a different character and appearance at any rate; it more resembled soot; it was a very carbonaceous deposit—I examined the glass of the pictures—I removed one of the pictures, and have it here—I observed what appeared to be a yellow oily substance on the glass—I experimented on that by scraping off a portion of the deposit and boiling it with ether, and another portion with water—the etheral solution or evaporation gave me a yellow oily substance very similar to the one obtained from the carpet—the aqueous solution was acid—I may state that both these yellow deposits appeared to resemble as closely as possible the yellow oily substance which is obtained during imperfect burning, the distillation, I ought perhaps rather to say, of wood and such like substances
and fabrics; paper for instance, linen, dresses, and so on—I also examined a white jug, which is hero; it is completely coated over with a kind of black shining deposit—the deposit on the paper was dull, the deposit on this jug is something intermediate between the two other appearances—on the paper I noticed a black opaque deposit, more like soot—on the glass of the picture I noticed a yellow oily substance not in the I least like soot—this seems to have the blackness of the one and something of the oily character of the other—by burning oilcloth and oil-cover, I taken from the premises, I have produced results essentially identical with these three appearances—a day or two ago I had submitted to me a small portion of the glass from the shop—I have it here; there is a black opaque tarry-looking deposit on it—I made a small experiment with that within the last few days—I boiled it with ether, and I found that it separated into two portions, a black powder apparently very like soot, and a liquid, which on evaporation gave me a yellow oil identical in appearance with that I obtained by the other processes—that experiment confirms me in the idea of the black shining deposit being somewhat intermediate between the other two—I have here the results of the experiments I made, and, if permitted, can show by burning a small piece of oilcloth the mode in which the deposit is produced—in the first place, I burnt a piece of floor cloth, simply taking two or three thicknesses of it I together—here is a portion of the oil-cover which I myself removed from the premises—I only took three or four thicknesses—I burnt it, and noticed that it burnt with a bright light, and with a very thick, smoky flame—at a short distance above that flame I held this piece of white porcelain, and obtained immediately this deposit on it—there is no particular smell from it, nothing at all in the nature of tar, I believe the burning was too complete for that—I also made another experiment, in which I placed a piece of the substance folded up into a small crucible, such as I have here, in order to take the extreme of the opposite side—in the first experiment I burnt the substance completely with a good supply of air—in this case I did not burn it at all—I simply subjected it to a distillation—I heated it without contact with the air, and in that case I got on the upper portion of the crucible this yellow oily deposit, which is acid to test paper, and resembles closely in all respects the yellow deposit found on the glass of the picture—I should be unable to distinguish between the two—I made a third experiment, not, if I remember right, from the oilcloth, but from the floor cloth; but in one case I made an experiment from the floor cloth which from an oversight I did not make from the oilcloth—I first got a black soot deposited; I then exposed it to the oily vapour attainable by the destructive distillation, trying to obtain the appearance I had got on the jug—this is it—of course I produced the effects rather roughly and imperfectly, but that is a shining black appearance, something like that I found on the jug—I believe that was all the experiments I tried—I certainly believe that the appearances I observed on the premises might all have been occasioned by the burning in the shop of a quantity of oilcloth and oil-covering, with a limited draught of air passing through—supposing this table cover to be on the table of a room where the door was shut, and the smoky vapour getting through the crevices and settling on it, I should expect it would present this appearance—I should be sorry 3to swear absolutely that it would, but I should expect it—the tar-like smell on the rug seems to me to resemble very much the burning of wood and other fabrics—I do not say it is identical—a smell is a vague thing to swear to.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you learnt how long this fire lasted? A. No, I have not—I heard it in a general way—I did not understand that it would affect the question much—I was asked what would be the effect of the burning of wood, not what actually took place—it appears to me that a fire lasting an hour, with oilcloth and wood in the place, might account for every wall and window, and almost every article of furniture, being covered with this black deposit—I admit frankly that it is a very difficult case to speak absolutely upon; but the impression I formed on the matter was that it might—if the floorcloth burnt it appears to me it might produce the effect, if it was not burnt, I should not think so—I cannot pretend to say how long it would take to burn oilcloth folded up in sufficient quantities to produce such an effect all over the house; it would entirely depend upon the temperature; I cannot give the slightest idea—I think it would depend upon the heat, the draught, and so on, of course it would burn much more slowly in rolls—it is impossible to form an idea how much oilcloth it would take to produce these effects, I believe if a quantity was burnt in a building it would produce them; if you force me to make a guess, I should say perhaps one hundredweight or so: it is a mere guess—I can't say how long it would take to burn a hundredweight; it would depend on the draught, I never made the experiment.
Q. Supposing a moderate flame, confined to an area of three or four feet, and suddenly a burst of flame, a quantity of black soot, a suffocating smell of vapour, so that persons were obliged to rush out in consequence, should you be of opinion that that arose from the burning of oilcloth? A. All produced suddenly! it seems very unlikely; I can't pretend to say it is impossible, I should be very sorry to say so, I should be very sorry to say it was likely, it is not the phenomenon I should expect to see; but I see a good many phenomena that I don't expect—it is precisely consistent with the possibility of a flame reaching a vessel full of tar oil; it is exactly the result that would follow assuming that it was an exceedingly cold night, I should think the appearance! presented all over the house would be entirely consistent with it.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you see the débris? A. I did—I saw the remain! of a quantity of oilcloth that was actually burnt—I have some small piece with me that have been more or less burnt—I saw some in rolls that had been partially burnt, one end of it or something of the sort; the portion burnt off had been consumed; I found it in the débris; the great bulk of it appeared to me to have been consumed: I found some remains—it appeared to me that the portion that was not there had been completely consumed; I could not say that whole rolls had not been consumed—I heard some statement of the time the fire lasted, but I did not pay much attention to it, because it was not the point submitted to me—I think they told me that it had lasted some hour or two, but I did not pay much attention—I am sure that it did not last ten or twelve hours; looking at the place was enough to show that—a combustion might have been going on for some considerable time before the effects were visible in smoke issuing from the room; one would fancy that the shop would first of all fill with dense vapour, which would afterward ascend—I cannot say how long the fire would smoulder before smoke would come out—I cannot say that oilcloth burning, and air suddenly admitted, would account for the sudden rush of flame and black smoke; it might; it is a question I feel some uncertainty about, not having any special knowledge to guide me—the smell in the nature of tar might be accounted for by the burning of the
oilcloth and floor cloth, provided they did burn—it appears to me that might have caused all the appearances I saw—I have no doubt that some quantity was burnt, because I saw it.
COURT. Q. Is that black which you produce what is called in popular language "lampblack?" A. Yes; the burning of almost anything will produce that, and the more oily it is the more easy it is to produce it—the yellow matter is a substance which may be seen in burning a piece of twisted paper—it contains citric acid, which was the cause of the acidity I noticed; it is contained in a great variety of other substances—I believe pitch of commerce is a residue after distillation of oils from coal tar—I do not believe that a destructive distillation of linseed oil would produce any appreciable quantity of coal pitch—that confirms me in my idea about these experiments—I found no pitch—if there was pitch, or anything in the nature of it, and any fire about the house, I should imagine it could not be due to the linseed oil and the oilcloth; it is a very delicate question to answer, I am only answering it to the best of my knowledge; it is all rather obscure.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Look at this watch: from the effects of the fire, which you yourself saw, do you think that a fire which left such traces behind it would have been intense enough to have consumed watches, and to have left them in that condition? A. I should think so—I have examined this watch with some care—it appears to me rather as if some white metal had fallen on it—I should certainly think the fire would have oeen sufficient to reduce watches to this condition—I have no reasonable doubt of it—it seems to me, not that the watch is melted, but that some white metal has fallen on it—if that was found amongst the débris I should certainly have no hesitation in saying that it was caused by the fire.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Do you mean that that could have occurred without a very high temperature of fire? A. As far as I can judge from these specimens, I should think that a very high temperature was not required, because I cannot perceive that even the brass work has been melted—I cannot tell whether this is silver—I cannot tell the precise temperature at which silver melts—I do not think that a high temperature is antagonistic to destructive distillation—you might have destructive distillation carried on at a high temperature; possibly not in the same spot, but the two processes might go on at the same time.
Q. Supposing that watch to be on the counter, and the counter not burnt, what would you think then? A. My answer must a little depend upon whether this is silver or not; taking it to be silver, it does not seem to me likely it would be the case; certainly it is possible, supposing there was an iron plate on the counter, for instance, and it was raised some distance from the counter, the heat might then be sufficient on the counter, yet the counter would not be burnt—supposing a fire under the counter, the counter not burnt through, and the watch upon it, it seems very unlikely that it would be melted on the woodwork; supposing this is silver, it would of course be impossible: some metals melt at a very low temperature indeed—of course it could not be melted through the counter.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Supposing it was not on the counter, but came within the action of the flames where they were infensest, would that be sufficient to reduce it to the state in which it is now? A. It seems to me very possible; I can melt common copper wire in a candle flame—fire varies very much in its intensity in different places—it is extremely difficult to measure its exact intensity.
WILLIAM CROOKES , Esq. (re-examined). I saw the debris—as far as I can judge, this watch does not show any signs of fusion; it appears as if some fused metal had fallen upon it—the glass is melted—in my judgment the fire that caused the effects I saw in the house would be sufficient to reduce watches to this state, if brought within the action of the flame—I have no doubt of it, a common kitchen fire would produce this effect, and more.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE re-called in reply
DR. ODLINE. I have heard the account given by the last gentleman, of the experiments he made and the results; they are not at all inconsistent with my observations: we made substantially the same experiments, except that we used half-pound materials, but bringing out substantially the same results. I scraped some portions from the wall and from other portions of the premises, and placed them through a rough analysis—the results from the oilcloth do not alter the opinion I have expressed—taking oilcloth and working it in different ways, you can get different results, but the product obtained by the different modes of treating oilcloth differs from the deposit in the house in several particulars—the product obtained by the destructive distillation of the oilcloth is oil, and not tar; it is a substance that is not siccative and does not dry up into a black pitch; the substance produced by the distillation of oilcloth smells essentially of the oil; it is the smell of burning oil, quite distinct from the smell of burning tar—another point is that the distillation is an extremely slow process, whereas the distillation of tar takes place almost instantaneously—it took us three hours to distil one half-pound of the material as we found it; we took the roll rather thicker than my arm and cut a section out of it, and tried it with the piece of oilcloth as we found it in the premises, and it took us three hours to distil it, and half an hour to burn it on a strong fire, and it left half its weight in ash—I do not mean that it took three hours before a product was obtained that would fasten on the walls and furniture; the product began to be formed very soon after the heating, but it took that time to effect a complete distillation—there is another point of less character, that the substance produced by the distillation of oilcloth has a very strongly acid reaction, whereas in the case of this deposit on the walls it was only just acid.
Q. Are you able to account for the appearances presented in the house by the combustion of any quantity of oilcloth whatever, in connection with any quantity of wood? A. If you take any particular part of the house, a portion of the wall or anything else, leaving out the consideration of smell, that appearance might no doubt be produced by the oilcloth; but if you take the evidence of the sudden evolution of vapour, that could not be produced by oilcloth, because oilcloth will not produce vapour suddenly—we extracted tar from the paper, and from some of the crockery, and from the glass of the windows, what every one would call tar.
MR. RIBTON. Q. What was it that you did distil in three hours from half a pound of oilcloth? A. We distilled what chemists call empyromatic tar; that is truly in the nature of tar—it is quite distinct from the substance that we ordinarily call tar; if you burn wood long enough, and with an insufficient access of fir, you will get tar from wood—the ordinary manufacture of tar from wood is a process lasting some weeks—burning wood for the same time it takes to burn oilcloth, will produce tar; if I had performed the same experiment on wood as I did on oilcloth I should have got a tarry substance.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. In how long a time? A. I did not actually perform the experiment, but, from my knowledge of wood, it would certainly take a very much longer time.
GUILTY .— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, May 9th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WRIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
SARAH ANN SHELTON . I am single, and live when I am out of a situation at 12, St. George's Road, Shepherd's Bush—on 24th April, about half-past eleven, I was in Mitre Lane, on my way to St. George's Road—that is in the direction of Wormwood Scrubs—two men came out from behind some pales—the prisoner is one of them—the other man said, "I want your money"—I said, "I have none"—the prisoner snatched a veil from my face, and said that he knew I had money; he also said, "You must take the purse from your pocket and give me what you have"—the other man took a knife from his pocket, and said if I did not give him my urse he would stab me—in consequence of that I gave him my purse—it contained 4s. 5 1/2 d. three postage stamps, four keys, and a steel ring—the prisoner said he knew I had some in my pocket, as he heard it jink—I turned out my pocket, and then they said they were perfectly satisfied and walked down Mitre Lane—I was afraid to follow them, and waited two or three minutes until they were out of sight, and then I went on I in the same direction—they ran down Mitre Lane, and turned to the left towards Harlesden Green—I met a policeman and told him—he went round by the public-house, and told me to go on to Willesden Green—he went in the direction the men had gone—I next saw the prisoner at about twenty minutes to ten in custody, and at once identified him—he said he was as innocent as a young child—on Friday I found part of my purse in the Harrow Road, near Harlesden Green—that would be about a mile and a quarter from where I was stopped—I am positive the prisoner is one of the men.
Cross-examined. Q. Where you out of place at this time? A. Yes—I was not then living at St. George's Road, but was going over there that evening—I had been staying at St. Mary's Terrace—there are a great many navigators about that neighbourhood—there are railway works ran on—the navvies dress very much alike—they wear red neck-handkerchiefs, heavy boots, corduroy trousers, and smocks—there were only four penny pieces found on the prisoner—he said he had been to a person named White, and had some supper and beer—I did not hear him say he had had I tea.
MR. WRIGHT. Q. When you saw this man at the police-station had He the same dress on as he had when he accosted you? A. Yes, a black cap with a little braid round the peak, a very dirty white slop moleskin trousers, and a red handkerchief round his neck.
had heard I took him in custody—he had on a dirty white slop, fustian trousers, a black cap, and a red handkerchief round his neck—when charged he said he was as innocent as a child.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he not say something about having been to Mr. White's to tea? A. No—he said he had been to a man named Bunbury, and had some tea in the hut—Harlesden Green is about a mile from where I took him—the Orange Tree public-house is close by—he came Dp to me and asked where he could get a night's lodging—he was rather startled when I took him in custody—I fetched the prosecutrix and told her there was a man at the station for her to come and look at.
MR. WRIGHT. Q. What is the distance from where the robbery took place to this hut? A. About a mile.
GEORGE ISARD (Police Sergeant 14 X). On 24th April I was at the station when the prosecutrix came to see the prisoner—she immediately recognised him—he said she must be mistaken, as he was not the man—he said he had been in the hut in the afternoon, and he was there again from six to half-past nine, and between those times he had been at the Spotted Dog public-house.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM WHITE . I have sometimes gone by the name of Bunbury—I that is my father's name—Mrs. Bunbury is my sister-in law—I am engaged on the Midland Railway works—I live with my wife in a hut close by—I recollect seeing the prisoner on 24th April on the works just after dinner—I worked with him last summer—I told him to meet me at home—when I went home, about half-past six, he was at home—I went home about twenty-five minutes past six—my tea was ready, and I had just sat down I to it when the prisoner came in—he came in about five minutes after me—he took tea—my sister-in-law, my sister, and my brother were there—my wife returned home about eight o'clock—a man named Boffin, who lives next door, also came in about eight o'clock—the prisoner asked him whether he could oblige him with a bed, he said he could not—just as I was going to bed I asked the prisoner where he was going to stop, and he said he not know, for he had no money, and my wife directly gave him fourpence—we had two pints of beer in the course of the evening.
Cross-examined. Q. What day of the week was this? A. Wednesday—I left my work about twenty minutes past six, and it takes me about five minutes to walk home—we leave work at any time when we have done—the horsekeeper tells us tho time when we go home—Mr. Boffin has a clock—I cannot say whether I met any friends on my way home—I never stopped anywhere, but walked straight home—I have not a clock in my house—it is a conjecture of mine that the prisoner came in five minute after me—the prisoner was in his working dress—I have known him between two and three years.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Have you known him as an honest man? A. I never heard anything against him—the horsekeeper took out his watch, and said, "It is about twenty minutes past six, you are forward to-night, chaps."
SARAH BUNBURY . I am White's sister-in-law—I was staying there on 24th April—the prisoner came there at exactly half-past six that evening—I can fix that time, because I went and looked at Mr. Boffin's clock, and it was then twenty minutes past six—my brother-in-law came in first, and began taking his tea, and then the prisoner came in—my brother-in-law got up from his seat, and told the prisoner to sit down, and ordered me to
give him something to eat—the prisoner remained there till a quarter or twenty minutes past nine—they had a pot of beer—Mr. Boffin came in about eight o'clock, and the prisoner asked him if he could give him a night's lodging—he said he could not, and Mrs. White gave him fourpence to get a bed.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you laid out the tea things when you went to look at Boffin's clock? A. Yes—we were waiting for tea—I do not think it was more than ten minutes between that time and when the prisoner came—I did not notice anything in the least strange about the prisoner when he came in—I heard that he was in trouble about ten the next morning—Mrs. White gave him four penny pieces—I know the prisoner left about twenty minutes past nine, because I saw Boffin's clock directly after he left.
JOSEPH BOFFIN . I have been engaged on the railway works at Willesden—I live next door to White, and have a clock—I know the prisoner—I saw him pass my hut on Wednesday, 24th April, at half-past six—as soon as he got to White's door he said to me, "Joe, have you been here ever since we left the hut?"—I said, "Yes, David, I have"—he was on the same works as I was last summer—about eight o'clock I went into White's—White's brother, wife, sister-in-law, and sister were there, and also the prisoner, who asked me whether I could accommodate him with a bed that night, and I told him I could not—I have always knowed him as upright and downstraight.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know whether your clock was fast or slow? A. About the right time—I know that from going backwards and forwards to my work—there is a bell at Kilburn which rings at six in the morning, that we generally go by.
MR. WRIGHT to WILLIAM WHITE. Q. Have you ever heard of the prisoner being in any trouble before? A. No.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Who keeps your time at the works? A. A ganger—if we are over our time we lose a quarter of an hour, and so on.
COURT to SARAH ANN SHELTON. Q. Had you known the prisoner before this night? A. No, I never saw him before—I did not know his name.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. W. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution, and MR. PATER the Defence.
GEORGE SKELTON . I live at 43, St. Martin's Lane, in the parish of St. Martin in the Fields, and am a watch and clock manufacturer—about a quarter to four on 9th March I left my shop in Mrs. Fox's care—about five o'clock I returned and found seven watches had been stolen from a case near the window—I supplied the numbers and the makers' names to Sergeant Ackrill—they were worth about 60l.
CATHERINE FOX . I am Mr. Skelton's housekeeper—I remember his going out about a quarter to four on 9th March—I was left in charge—shortly afterwards a cab drove up to the door, and the cabman asked me to send some oue out to speak to the person in the cab—being alone, I had to go myself; when I got to the cab door, a man asked me to send some one to No. 4, New Street, Spring Gardens, to see about a clock—I then turned round and saw two men, one in the doorway and the other
coming up the shop—the one at the door said, "How long will Mr. Skelton be before he is in?" and he gave a sort of grin—I seized hold of him and said, "You have got something"—he threw me to the back of the shop and ran away—I just had time to get up to see him turn down Hop Gardens—I saw his face distinctly—Sinkins is the man—about a quarter to leven a.m. on 2nd April I was fetched to the police-station—there were twelve or thirteen men, and from amongst them I picked out Sinkins—that was entirely by my own judgment, and without any assistance or aid from the police—I have no doubt whatever that Sinkins is the man I saw in the shop, and I believe Green to be the other—between eight and nine p.m. on 27th March I was taken to the police-station for the purpose of identifying some one—it was Green, but I could not identify him because he had disfigured himself—he squinted his eyes and bowed his legs—I saw him a week after at Bow Street, and then I believed he was the man that was in the shop.
Cross-examined. Q. The whole thing, I suppose, happened in a moment? A. Yes; I was alarmed—the glance I had of Sinkins was a short one, but it was quite sufficient to see it was him—I remember saying at Bow Street, "I had a short glance of the man in the doorway"—I believe he had a hat on, but I am not certain—I am not able to say whether he had a moustache or not, but he appeared to be clean-shaved—he had a sort of scarf round his neck—I did not see any moustache—I speak with certainty—I said at the police-court that I did not think he had any moustache, and that he was clean-shaved—I think the prisoner called some time before this robbery, and asked if something was gold, and whether I would buy it—I told him we did not buy such things—he was dressed almost like a navigator then—I did not say at the police-court that I could not identify Green, I said I could not be certain—I am more certain now that he is the man, because I have seen him often, and know his face a little better—I said at the police-court I could not be positive Green was the man, but I had not much doubt—I think I first identified Green the day after Sinkins was examined at Bow Street—it was on the first examination before the Magistrate, when Green was standing in the dock, that I recognised him—previous to seeing him in the dock I had had an opportunity of recognising him in the yard—I think I said at the police-court that Sinkins was the man that threw me down, and I believed Green to be the man that was with him—I cannot say I clearly swore it before the Magistrate—I know Mr. Robson well—he is a neighbour—I remember seeing him at the police-station, and saying to him that I could not recognise Green, but that they all looked a guilty lot of people—I have not been in communication with the police since he has been committed for trial—I have spoken to a constable since—I dare say I have seen Constable Gordon five or six times since the robbery, but he has said very little to me about it—Mr. Robson was the first to come to my assistance, and he ran after the prisoners—I was taken to the jailor's room on one occasion to identify Green, and I said then I could not exactly identify him.
MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Was that on 27th March, in the evening, when he bowed his legs and squinted his eyes? A. Yes.
COURT. Q. Was there any other occasion on which you went into the jailor's room? A. No—I cannot say which is the jailor's room, I was taken into the yard that night.
March I saw three men opposite Mr. Skelton's shop, on the same side of the way—between that time and half-past four I saw two of them continually in the neighbourhood of his shop—about half-past four I saw the same two running from the prosecutor's door—there was then a cab at the door—the prisoners are the men—I am perfectly sure of it—they went up St. Martin's Lane and turned up Hop Gardens—I did not run after them, as I did not know what had occurred—the cab at the door obstructed my view of what was passing—I believe I had seen the prisoners there a week previously, but I cannot speak with certainty to that—I gave a description of the prisoners to constable Gordon—about three weeks after the robbery I went to Bow Street—I cannot say whether it was 2nd April, but it was on a Tuesday or Wednesday.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you tell me how the men you saw between the hours you aspeak of, were dressed? A. I cannot, only one, and that is the man that is not here—when I saw them running away I was in my master's shop—one of the prisoners had a hat on—I think that was Green, but I cannot swear positively—I could not swear whether they were wearing light clothes or dark—it is not an uncommon thing for persons to walk up and down St. Martin's Lane, but they do not loiter the same as the prisoners did—through a communication I received from my employer, I went to the Bow Street Station—I saw the inspector and several policemen, but not the prisoners—I cannot give you the date when that was, but it was on a Tuesday or Wednesday—that was the day I identified Green—there were eight or ten men in the yard—I told Mr. Skelton when I got back that I had recognised Green—I was asked at the station whether I saw any of the men that I had seen loitering in St. Martin's Lane—I said, "Yes," and pointed Green out—I was not asked any other question—I remember saying at the police-court, "I still believe I came to this Court on the Tuesday or Wednesday, as I stated in my evidence on the last occasion," and I swear again to-day that I believe that was the day—I did not see Mr. Robson run after the prisoners—Hop Gardens is about thirty-five or forty feet from our shop—I had seen them previously, and as they ran I recognised their faces—I do not recollect seeing Mr. Robson the same afternoon or evening—I did not go to his house and ask him what had taken place over the way—I know him well—he is supposed to be an organ manufacturer—I do not know whether he is or not—I have seen his name up, and have known him four years—I did not inquire of him a few hours after what had happened, but he came into my shop and asked me whether I had seen any men loitering about, and then he told me what had happened, and that he had run after the men.
COURT to CATHERINE FOX. Q. Had the man that threw you down, a light coat on? A. Yes.
WILLIAM GORDON (Policeman 33 C). On the 27th March I apprehended Green in St. Martin's Lane—I was in plain clothes—I told him I should take him in custody for being concerned with others in stealing seven watches from 43, St. Martin's Lane—he said, "All right, do not show me up; come to a public-house; a sovereign is better for you than locking me up"—I said, "I shall do nothing of the kind," and I took him to Bow Street Station—he was placed amongst other people, and Mrs. Fox saw him, but she was so frightened she could not identify him—he was then put in the dock, and while there Mr. Brennan called out to me, "Look out, Gordon," and I saw him put this diamond ring (produced) in his mouth—I took it out of his mouth—I then searched him, and found
5l. 8s. 2d., a bunch of keys, two diamond rings, a gold watch and chain, and a duplicate of a watch pledged for 7l.—about eleven p.m. on 2nd April I took Simkins in St. Martin's Lane on another charge—when he saw me he rushed into a public-house, and then came out and put his hand rouud a lamp-post—I told him I should take him in custody—he said, "You are not going to take me into custody for them watches with Green, are you?"—I said, "I do not know"—I took him to the station—he was placed amongst fourteen or fifteen other men, and was picked out by Fox and Willey—on 9th March I was in St. Martin's Lane from eleven a.m. to 4 p.m.; I saw the prisoners there, with three others, between two and four—there can be no doubt of that, as I knew them well.
Cross-examined. Q. When you apprehended Sinkins was he not the worse for liquor? A. He appeared to be so immediately he saw me—he might have been drinking, but he was not drunk—Green did not deny being concerned in the robbery at Skelton's—he did not say he was not in London at that time—he did not say anything about being at Wands worth—after I had taken him to the station I did not see a man named Harrington—I know a tailor named Daniel Harrington very well indeed—on the morning following, about one o'clock, he followed me and another constable into a public-house in Cranbourne Street—he did not ask me what I had locked Green up for, but he pulled out some money and said I had better square it—I told him if he made use of such words I would break his neck—he had his two daughters with him—I did not tell him I had locked Green up on suspicion of being concerned in a burglary—Harrington did not say Green was innocent—I never said that Green had plenty of money, and I would make him spend some quids—Harrington was not with us more than five or six minutes—Kane (Policeman 35 C) was with me, in plain clothes—I may have known Harrington more than four years—I have never visited him at his house, nor has he been to my house—I have never had tea with him in my life—Willey gave me a description of the men.
Q. Do not you know that the things found upon Green were intrusted to him for sale? A. No, but I know that the man who claims them is not respectable—he goes about race-courses, selling cards.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JAMES BRENNAN (Police Inspector F). I produce a charge-sheet relating to the prisoner Green—it contains an entry made at the time he was brought to the station on 27th March—I was present when it was entered (Read:—"Bow Street Police-station. John Green, loitering in street. Persons charging—William Gordon, policeman 33 C. Taken into custody by William Gordon, policeman 33 C. Property found on person—Two diamond rings; duplicate for gold watch; a gold watch and chain; 5l. in gold, 9s. 3d. in silver, and 8 1/2 d. in copper; twelve keys and a steel ring; two keys and a gold ring found on prisoner at the station.")
Cross-examined. Q. Did you take this charge? A. I did not, but I was present when it was taken—Inspector Parker took it—I was attending to other business—I heard all that took place—Gordon said, "I believe there will be a charge against this man for being concerned with two others in stealing those watches from St. Martin's Lane."
THOMAS FREDERICK ROBSON . I live at 101, St. Martin's Lane, and am an organ manufacturer—I was born there, and my father before me, that is next door to Mr. Baker's—I remember a robbery at Mr. Skelton's, but I can hardly tell you the date—it was on a Saturday afternoon, between half-past
three and five—I was walking up and down a passage by the side of ray house about a quarter-past four, and saw two men standing on the opposite side—they looked like Americans—there was something peculiar in their manner and dress, something of the American circus class of men—I watched them half an hour—they saw me watching them, and then they moved some distance down—they were looking up at a house—I went in and had my tea, and then returned—I saw a cab drive away from Mr. Skelton's door, and a big man standing on the step—I went across the road, and the tall man ran away—a little man came out of the shop, and ran almost against me—he ran off—I went into the shop, and found tne old lady gathering herself together—she told me what had occurred, and I went after the men—they had fifty yards' start of me—the little man beat the big one—they ran up Hop Gardens—I went up there, but could not see any one to help me—I do not think either of the prisoners are the men—they are not the class of men—I should say they were certainly not the men—I returned to the shop to see if the woman had recovered, and found her in a very nervous state—I was afterwards taken to the police-station by Sergeant Ackrill to identify some one—there was a row of men, and the old lady was there—she made an extraordinary remark, and said they were all guilty—I stated then that Green was not one of the men—I can hardly tell you how soon it was after the robbery that I saw the witness Wiiley—I think it was on the Saturday night or Monday morning—I was standing at my door, and he came to me and said, "How about the robbery over the way?"—I did not call at his employer's shop and enter into a conversation with him—he spoke to me—he said, "What is the matter over the way?" and then I told him exactly what I am telling you—it is true I told him what had happened, but I did not tell him that at his shop.
COURT. Q. Do you mean to say that you did not ask Willey if he had seen the men loitering about? A. No; the conversation all emanated from himself—he asked me questions, and I answered them.
MR. PATER. Q. Was it in consequence of the police calling at your house that you have given the information you have to-day? A. Certainly—at the police-station I examined the whole of the men, and I said that neither of them was the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to tell the Jury you don't know the day of the month this occurred? A. I really do not—I know it was on a Saturday—I cannot tell you exactly what time in the evening it was that I went to identify Green—the old lady was there, and she was very timid and nervous—the men were all standing in a row, but I do not remember any one hanging his head down, or assuming any particular position—Hop Gardens is about thirty or forty yards from Mr. Skelton's door—I followed the little man into Bedfordbury, and he ran into another court.
COURT. Q. Can you say that you would know the men? A. No, I could not say that.
THOMAS CLARINGBOW . I am a retired butcher, and live at Dew's Row, Wandsworth—I remember Green coming to me on a Saturday in March last—I had not seen him before—I think he came about three o'clock in the afternoon—he came with two other men, and he remained with me till between five and six—it was 9th March—I have no doubt about that at all.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you quite sure it was the 9th March: I believe you said at the police-court that your son went away on that day? A. Yes, I am quite sure about that—a gentleman named Turk came with the
prisoner in a cart—I hare known Turk three or four years—I was going to buy the horse, we tried it, and then we enjoyed ourselves at a public-house—I suppose we were an hour looking at the horse—we tried it in the York Road, Wandsworth—we then went into the Princess's Hotel—that was about four o'clock—we went into the coffee-room—I had some brandy and water, and soda and brandy—Turk had the same—I think Green had some porter or cooper—I think it was a Yorkshire club, that is, we all paid alike—no one stood treat—I should have given about 20l. for the horse, but I did not like the look of it, it was rather lame—Green drove it up and down—there was a young man there as well—I merely passed the time of day with Green, and asked him his opinion about the horse, and whether he thought it would suit me, and he would not make any answer—I am not aware that I know a police-constable named Ranger—I do not know a police-sergeant named Ackrill—I do not know that man (Sergeant Ackrill)—I will not swear I never saw him before—I do not remember two people coming to see me at Wandsworth after Green was admitted to bail, nor holding out my hand to one of them, thinking it was Green, and saying, "Halloa, old fellow, I am glad you are out; you know you will have to pay me 5s. for coming up for you; we are bound to pull you through it, but I shall see your brother, and he will pay me the 5s."—I never saw him, and never used words to that effect: that I swear—I saw Green after he was out on bail—I did not bail him—I saw him after I had given my evidence at the police-court—Mr. Turk is a dealer in cabs and horses, and a carriage builder—I do not know a man named Douglas—I have left business for the last twenty years—I have not been living exactly upon my wealth—I never do anything in horse-dealing, only for my own use—I use my horses to go to different markets—sometimes I buy a little cattle—I am not a cattle-jobber, but I buy a thing if I see a profit hanging to it, perhaps once in two years; I mean once in a month, or once in two months—they came down to me and asked me to give evidence, two or three days previous to the examination at Bow Street—I think it was Green's brother who came, I am not quite sure.
MR. PATER. Q. Was your son to have left on the Friday? A. Yes; he was to have gone on the 8th, but all sailors say Friday is an unlucky day, and I said to him, "You shan't go, you shall stop till to-morrow"—I am certain of the day.
COURT. Q. Was the prisoner a stranger to you? A. I never saw him before—they called him Green—I was asked to remember the man that was with us on 9th March.
GEORGE GATON . I live at Wandsworth, and am a laundrymau—I have been about thirty years in the neighbourhood—I recollect seeing Green with two others on Saturday, 9th March, at Wandsworth—two others were with him—I was with Mr. Claringbow—the prisoner was there from three to past five.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know the two other persons that were with Green? A. No, I never saw them before that day—I was in their company upwards of two hours, we were in the Princess's drinking—a young man named White was there.
FRANCIS WHITE . lam a licensed cab-driver, and live at 15, Plummer's Road, Commercial Road East—I went in a cart with Green to Wandsworth on Saturday afternoon, 9th March—we left about one o'clock, and he was in my company till a little after six—we went to sell a horse, and I believe Mr. Claringbow is the gentleman to whom we went to sell it.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen Green before? A. I have seen him once or twice along with Mr. Turk—I joined Mr. Turk in the Back Road, St. George's-in-the-East; Green was in the cart then—that was just outside Mr. Turk's door—we went over London Bridge, down the Borough, and across Battersea Fields—we were about five or tea minutes trying the horse, and then we all went into a public-house—two or three treats were stood—I do not know who paid for them; I did not pay for mine—I suppose we were there about an hour and a half—we got down to Wandsworth about three—they did not toss as to who should pay, but they seemed to take it in turns—we left about five—I know the Alhambra Palace—I was not there on Mr. Strange's benefit night—I do not know policeman Gordon, I never saw him before yesterday—I have been a cabman about two years.
MR. PATER. Q. Are you able to say when Mr. Strange's benefit did take place? A. No—I never heard of his name.
THOMAS TURK . I live at 7, St. George's Place East—I am a wheelwright, and keep a farrier's shop—I have known Green three or four years—I remember his calling upon me on a Saturday early in March in the middle of the day, and he went with me to Wandsworth—I had a horse to sell, and I went to Mr. Claringbow—I should think we got to Wandsworth between one and two—I could not swear to the date—we returned to London between five and six—he was in my company all that time.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been a wheelwright? A. About eighteen months—I was a publican before that—I do a little horse-dealing—I am a horse-jobber—I never do any betting—I do not know Charles Batt, alias Angel—I know two brothers named Douglas—they were tried at Manchester, and I went to give evidence upon an alibi. (MR. SLEIGH read a newspaper report of the trial.) That is correct—they, were sentenced to penal servitude in my hearing—I do hot know that Douglas afterwards admitted the robbery—I neither heard nor read of it—I cannot say how long we were trying the horse—we went into a public* house, and I drank some ale—Mr. Claringbow took sixpennyworth of brandy and water two or three times over—I cannot tell the way we went to Wandsworth—I know we went over London Bridge, but I do not know the names of the streets—I have only been ashore about four years.
THEOPHILUS REDSTALL . I am jailor at Bow Street Police-court—I had not Green in custody on remand on 2nd or 3rd April, it was the 4th—I cannot say whether it was the 10th or 17th that Willey gave his evidence—Green was first brought before Sir Thomas Henry on 28th March; he was then remanded to 4th April, then to the 10th, when he was brought up in custody with Sinking; they were both remanded to the 17th, and then committed for trial, Green being admitted to bail—Green was in the House of Detention on 2nd and 3rd April.
Cross-examined. Q. Might a man be taken to the police-station before he came into your custody? A. Yes, he might be identified without my knowing it.
MR. PATER. Q. Was it whilst he was in your custody that Willey came to see if he could identify him? A. He did come there—I cannot say whether it was the first or second examination.
him by seeing him at my father's—I was with a friend—we all went down the Bayswater Road to Shepherd's Bush, and after that to Hammersmith—we remained there till seven o'clock—from the time we left London till the time we returned Sinkins was never once out of my sight.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you always lived with your father? A. Yes, always—I have been away sometimes, I have been barman elsewhere—I went of my own accord—I was not in Green's company when he was taken—I was not standing by—I swear that—I know Gordon, but I never saw him take a man into custody—I do not know a person named Cooke, of Seven Dials—I might by sight, but not by name—I do a little betting sometimes—I was barman to my father on 9th March—I can have a holiday when I like—my meeting Sinkins was accidental—we went into three or four public-houses—James Black was with us—he is not here—he left word with me last night to say he could not stay—I know this was 9th March, because I backed a horse for the Liverpool Steeple chases that week—that was run on the 5th.
GREEN— GUILTY .† SINKINS— GUILTY .** Ten Year's each in Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Friday, May 10th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. BESLEY and STRAIGHT the Defence.
GEORGE MORRIS . I am a labourer, of 4, Romney Street, Westminster and work for Jackson and Son, contractors and builders—on Sunday, 14th April, a little after eleven p.m., I was crossing Victoria Street, and saw the three prisoners and a smaller man not in custody, at the corner of the Palace Hotel and Tothill Street—I had seen them all before at various times—I passed them, and heard mumbling voices between them, but did not discern any particular words—whilst passing on to go to Great Smith Street the man not in custody walked past me (the others walked quickly behind)—when he got about four or five yards in front of me he gave some signal—I was then just across the street into Great Smith Street, they said either "Clock" or "Click," I took it to be "Clock," and the instant afterwards the taller man (Archibald) throttled me from behind, put his hands over my mouth, and his knees in my back, which drew my head back and rendered me powerless, whilst Casey rifled my pockets—Archibald throttled mo so tightly that I could not breathe—Coyle fixed me by the hands and left side, whilst Casey rifled my pockets—he took a florin and a half-crown and a two-bladed pocket-knife from my right-hand trousers pocket, and a handkerchief from my jacket pocket—I had sixpenny worth of halfpence in my left waistcoat pocket, but they did not find that—there was the light of the gas at the side of the road—I am positive of the three prisoners—I saw all their faces—I saw Archibald's face as soon as he let go of me—I turned instantly round and looked him full in the face, to see who the fourth was—I had seen the others—I am confident of them all—I called "Police!" at
the time, having hold of Coyle—I held him till Casey and Archibald came back to his help; no police came—the other two ran away, but they returned and got Coyle from me, tripped me up, hit me on the eye, and kicked me on the side, so that I was bound to release my hold—they tripped me up on my back, and all got away—the fourth man took no further part than giving the signal, he departed there and then, and never came back—I could not take much notice of him, because I only saw him as he passed, and would not be certain of him—I went back into Victoria Street, found a policeman on duty, and described the men who had attacked me—Coyle was dressed similar to what he is now, but he had no white slop on at that time—Casey was dressed as he is now, and Archibald had a black shabby coat on, and a different cap to what he was wearing to-day in the Court—I told the policeman that Archibald had a dark suit on, instead of the jacket he is now wearing—on the next Wednesday morning Cook fetched me to he police-station, Westminster—nine persons were taken out into the yard, and I picked out Coyle directly—I passed by once—I was cautioned by the inspector to be sure to pick out the right man, not to give the wrong man into custody, and keep him there—I am quite sure Coyle is the man—I saw Casey the same afternoon in the same station-yard, and eleven more with him—I picked him out at once—I saw Archibald on the following Monday, the 22nd, in the same station-yard—there were eight more with him—I picked him out as fast as the others—I am quite sure these are the men.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever spoken to either of the prisoners before this night? A. Not to my recollection—I have no doubt I had seen them before—I can't fix upon any particular day—the fourth man passed me, and he was four or five yards in front of me when he gave the signal word—this took place in Great Smith Street, on the right-hand side, close to Westminster Chambers—there was a lamp immediately opposite where I was throttled—it was the darkest place in the street where they tussled with me, it was before you get to the hoarding—it all happened in a very short time, three minutes was the outside—I had been into one public-house, and had some ale; I was quite sober—it might be three or four minutes before I saw a policeman—I went back into Victoria Street—I was not above eight or nine yards from the end of Victoria Street—I saw him in Victoria Street—the only word I heard distinctly uttered was by the fourth man—when I picked out the prisoners, the constable who had the casejin hand was there, but he was kept back in the station, and I went into the yard with the inspector.
FREDERICK HOCK (Policeman 312 B). This case was placed in my hands on the Tuesday night following the Sunday—I was not the first policeman that the prosecutor spoke to—I apprehended Coyle on the Wednesday morning at twelve o'clock—I told him the nature of the charge—he said, "So help me Christ, master, I am innocent, I do not know nothing about it"—I said, "No more don't I, but you will have a fair chance; you will have to come with me to the station now"—he was dressed as he is now—I was present when the prosecutor saw him at the station—there were eight others with him—the prosecutor went straight up to him, tapped him on the shoulder, and said, "This is the man"—I apprehended Casey the same day in Strutton Ground—I told him the charge, and like wise told him he would have a fair chance—he was placed with several other working men taken from the street as they passed the station—the prosecutor went straight up to him and picked him out, and said, "This is
the man"—I took Archibald on the 22nd at Clerkenwell, in the vicinity of the House of Detention—I placed him between twelve other men—the prosecutor picked him out and said, "This is the man"—I have known the prisoners before, and have seen them together more than once—I saw them together on the Tuesday, the same day I received instructions to apprehend them—I cannot say that I saw them together on the Sunday night.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. There is a public-house called the Abbey Arms, is there not, at the corner of Tothill Street? A. Yes.
FRANCIS FISHLEY (Policeman 112 B). On Sunday night, the 14th of April, about eleven o'clock, I saw the three prisoners and another man not in custody in Tothill Street, going towards the Broadway, as I was going toward the Abbey—after they had passed me they commenced to run as fast as they could—I had known them before—they are the men—I met the prosecutor about twenty minutes or half an hour afterwards, and he made a communication to me; he said he had been robbed, and described the persons who had robbed him.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. What time did you go on duty that night? A. At ten—it takes me about a quarter of an hour to go round my beat—I did not see the prisoners more than once that night, that was in Tothill Street—I cannot tell you how many times I went round my beat that night—I had no watch with me—the three prisoners were walking side by side—Casey was next to Coyle—I could not tell at first whether that was so, but I recollected myself a little—I knew the prisoners so well that I did not take any notice at first—I have known two of them for years—they are like a good many others who lounge about the corner of Peter Street.
GEORGE PARKER (Policeman 114 B). On Sunday night, the 14th of April, about twelve o'clock or five minutes past, I was in Great Peter Street, and saw the three prisoners and another man not in custody, standing near the Rifle public-house, at the top of Great Peter Street—I knew them before, and have seen them together several times—I afterwards saw Coyle at the end of Catherine Court and Great Peter Street—that was about an hour later—I afterwards saw him again—Archibald was wearing a cloth cap that night, a dark jacket, and corduroy trousers—the jacket was similar to the one now worn by Casey.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. I believe you have spoken of seeing Coyle in company with a woman at the end of Catherine Court? A. Yes, I saw him with a woman at four in the morning, at the end of Bull's Head Court—I did not say it was the same woman—this is my signature to this deposition—it was read over to me before I signed it. (The witness's deposition, being read, stated, "I saw Coyle an hour later with a woman at the end of Catherine Court, Great Peter Street, and again at four o'clock, at Bull's Head Court, with the same woman.") I have not sworn today that it was not the same woman—I am not able to recognise the woman as the same, I am not able to say whether it was or was not—I do not remember that I said before the Magistrate that it was the same woman—I am not able to explain how it appears there.
The following Witnesses were called for the Defence:—
JOHN ARCHIBALD . I live at 50, Gardner Street, Westminster, and am a labourer—the prisoner Archibald is my, son—on Sunday night, the 14th April, he came home just at ten o'clock—I was lying awake in bed, and I
heard the clock belonging to the Parliament House striking ten—I saw my son when he came up to his room—he had all his clothes ou and his candle lighted, and he blew out his candle, took off his clothes, and went to bed—he had a brown coat, corduroy trousers, and a cap—before he came up stairs he went into the parlour, and from there into the kitchen, where something was left for his supper—I did not see him then, but I heard him open the door and go in, and go into the back yard—he came back again, and came up stairs—he came into my room—I heard him speak, to his mother—his bed was in the same room as mine—I saw him get into bed—he did not go out again that night—I called him in the morning at half-past five.
Cross-examined. Q. How long after he came in was it before you went to sleep? A. I lay a good while on my bed before I fell asleep, about an hour—I work in the gas-yard—it was pretty late on the Saturday night when my son came home, I should think between twelve and one—I think he was in early on the Monday night—I was asleep when he came in—I wake pretty often in the course of the night—I do not work on Sundays—I generally go to bed soon after nine—I went to bed about nine that Sunday night.
MARY ARCHIBALD . I am the wife of the last witness, and mother of the prisoner—on Sunday night, the 14th, my son came in a few minutes before ten—I was in bed up stairs—he bolted the door when he came in, went into the parlour, through the parlour into the kitchen to get some supper, which I had left there for him—he was not out two hours the whole day, for he read the paper the whole day till between seven and eight o'clock—after he had his supper he came up stairs—I said to him, "John, what time is it?"—he said, "After ten o'clock"—and I said, "All well"—he undressed himself there and then, and went to bed, and when he was in bed a while, the Parliament clock struck the quarter-past ten—there was a bother in the street with two neighbours, but I never left the bed, nor did he; but his father got up and raised the window—my son sleeps very heavy and snores—I heard him snoring that night very heavily indeed—I am a bad sleeper—he never got up again till I called him at half-past five in the morning, and I had to shake him.
Cross-examined. Q. What did you hear the clock strike? A. A quarter-past ten—I am right down sure of that, from the time I went to bed—I asked my son the time, and he said, "A little after ten"—the father snores as well as the son—my son was asleep before eleven.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Do you take your time by the Westminster clock? A. Yes, we can hear it quite plain—I have lived there going on for two years—I heard the chiming a quarter-past and-half past—then there was the bother in the street, and I did not mind the clock any more—I only heard it that twice—I did not hear it strike before my son came home, but I know, by the time I went to bed, it only wanted a few minutes to ten when he came in—I went to bed before nine—I knew that by the clock in the parlour.
COURT. Q. How could you tell, when the clock chimed a quarter, whether it was a quarter-past ten or a quarter past-eleven? A. I knew by my own clock—I am right down sure it was a quarter-past ten.
BRIDGHT MURRAY . I am single, and live at 1, Catherine Court, Peter Street—I work as a laundress—I have known Archibald about four months—on Sunday, the 14th April, I was with him and Coyle from half-past eight till half-past nine—Coyle left me and Archibald, at the top of
Strutton Ground, and bid us good night—he said, "I am going home and going to bed"—I walked with Archibald to Gardner Street, Pimlico, where he lires, and he went into his own house as the public-house clock wanted ten minutes to ten—I looked at the clock at the Hand in Hand, at the corner of Chatworth Street and Lower Gardner Street—I saw Casey that night, he was with a young woman in the Adam and Eve public-house, at the corner of Bowling Street—I was in bed that night at half, past ten.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you kept the company of Archibald? A. Four months—he is not my lover—I do not exactly keep his company, sometimes I am with him—Casey and his young woman did not join us it all that night; Coyle is not a lover of mine—we were all three together at the top of the court talking.
ANN KEATING . I am the wife of Edward Keating, a stoker to the Equitable Gasworks—I live in the front parlour of Archibald's house—on Sunday, the 14th instant, he came home about ten minutes to ten, bolted the door, and came through the parlour—I was in the parlour, it is a sitting-room and bedroom—I was in bed; he asked me if his mother had left him any supper—he went into the back kitchen, took his supper, and went up stairs without much delay—I heard him latch the door of the back yard—I went to sleep about half-past twelve that night—I had a very had face-ache, which kept me awake, and there was also a bother amongst the neighbours next door—no one went out from the time Archibald went up stairs till I went to sleep—I called him on the Monday morning.
Cross-examined. Q. How long did he sit at his supper? A. Not long, I dare say between seven and eight minutes.
JURY. Q. Is the house door always left open till he comes in? A. It is latched, it is not bolted, he could let himself in by pushing the door—no one but those who know the house could do so—he bolted the front door when he came in.
ELIZA DUCKLOW . I live at 33, St. Ann's Street, and look after a lodging-house there—on Sunday night, the 14th April, I was in the Adam and Eve public-house with Casey, from seven in the evening till eleven at night, when the house closed—I did not see Bridget Murray—I left Casey about half-past twelve, or from that to one o'clock—I was with him all the eveuing—I saw him home, he was not in the company of any other men that evening—there were men in front of the bar, but not with him.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you kept his company long? A. Yes, about four years—he is my lover, we often go out together of an evening—I heard he was charged with a robbery, and I knew he was with me, so I came to speak the truth, no one asked me to come.
COURT. Q. When were you with him from eleven till one, were you going home? A. It took us two hours, we walked very slowly, it is about a quarter of an hour's walk from the Adam and Eve to his house—I go with him every Sunday evening.
MATILDA LAWRENCE . I live at Snow's Rents, North Street, West-minster—I help my mother at needlework—I know Coyle—I was with him on Sunday night, the 14th April—I first saw him at the top of Strutton Ground between nine and eleven o'clock, and remained talking to him about five minutes, no one was with him—I saw him knock a bundle of wood off his sister's head in Strutton Ground, as he was going home—I saw him go down the court where his house is—I did not see him go in doors—I did not see him again that night—I was at the Adam
and Eve that night, and saw Ducklow there, and Casey—he gave me a glass of stout, that was about a quarter to nine—it was after that I saw Coyle.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you and Coyle and his girl all together that evening? A. No, I did not see Archibald that night—I know all these men quite well; they have always been friends, not great friends—they are sociable together—I have generally seen them together.
MARGARET DOWNEY . I am the wife of Patrick Downey, a coalwhipper, of Artillery Square, Westminster—I know Coyle—he has lived next door to me for ten years—on Sunday, 14th April, between nine and eleven o'clock, I saw him going into his house with his little sister—she had a bundle of wood on her head, and he took it and chucked it at my doorss.
JOHN COYLE . I am the father of the prisoner—I am a mason's labourer, and live at 4, Artillery Square—on Sunday, 14th April, between nine and ten o'clock, my son came home and had his supper—he went to bed about a quarter-past ten—I went to bed about twenty minutes afterwards—my little girl came in before her brother, with a bundle of wood on her head, and another under her arm, and for a joke he put his finger to the bundle and tipped it off her head—she turned round and said, "What did you do that for?" and he smiled and went in doors.
BRIDGET COYLE . I am eleven years old—on Sunday, 14th April, between nine and ten o'clock, I was going home with two bundles of wood, one under my arm and one on my head—I saw my brother go to bed that night—he got up at ten on Monday morning.
COYLE— GUILTY .*— Confined Eighteen Months. CASEY and ARCHIBALD— GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months each.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
CATHERINE BUTLER . I live with my parents, at 3, Eagle Court, Strand—on 23rd April, Easter Monday, I was riding on a donkey on Blackheath Common—Sarah Lee, a young girl, was with me on another donkey—I had a paper wreath on my head, which blew off—the prisoner picked it up and brought it back to me—he was not driving the donkey, but he was on the other side of it—he came close to my side, but I did not see or feel him do anything—I felt in my pocket and missed my purse, with 18s. and a railway ticket in it; it was my money and another girl's put together—I jumped off the donkey and ran after the prisoner, calling "Stop thief!"—I did not lose sight of him—a gentleman stopped him—I am sure he is the man—I have not seen my purse since.
SARAH LEE . I am fourteen years old, and live with my parents—I was with the last witness on Easter Monday, and saw her drop a wreath off her head—the prisoner picked it up, put it on her head withhis left hand, and took her purse out of her pocket with his right—I called out,"Stop that
man, Kate, he has got your purse"—he began to run—I got off my donkey—he was stopped and given in custody.
JAMES WILLIAM BUTTS . I live at 1, Manor Grove, Old Kent Road, and am a watchmaker—I was on Blackheath, and saw the prisoner running, and a little girl running after him, calling "Stop him, he lias got my purse"—my friend and I followed him considerably over a mile—I only lost sight of him for an instant in turning a corner in the lane; and he was still running when I turned the corner—there was nobody else in the lane—I caught him and gave him in charge—he asked me what I wanted him for—I said, "Wait a moment, till the girls come; they say you have got their purse"—he threatened to punch my head, and said he never sav hem before.
Prisoner's Defence. A lady and gentleman said that somebody wu coming after me, and I ran. I afterwards stopped, and the witnesses came and said I had taken the girl's purse. I said, "I have not; you may search me; all I have got is 2s. 2 1/2 d."
GUILTY .*— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
JOHN RANDELL (Dockyard Constable). I am on duty at Woolwid Arsenal—I know Fair, a labourer in the Arsenal, working in the store department, where the candles and soap are dealt with—he has recently been working at the place where the candles are packed—on labourers leaving the Arsenal, a policeman stands at the gate to touch them, and they are seached in the lobby as they leave work—the prisoner belongs to the working corps attached to the Arsenal—it was his duty to mark the cases sent out from the place where the candles were—that was the same place where Farr was working—the prisoner was provided with a military cloak—he would not be liable to be searched, nor would persons going in and out at that particular part—I know Farr personally—on Sunday morning, 7th April, I was at the Woolwich Arsenal Railway station about ten o'clock, and saw Sarah Cathway carrying a parcel to the down train for Gravesend—I examined her parcel, it contained sixteen paraffin candles—I went to her brother-in-law, Farr, at 32, Waterman's Fields, Woolwich—I knew that he lived there—I saw him and his wife there—I searched their premises and found 205 stearine candles, 25 1/2 lbs. of soap, and other articles—Farr is not a prisoner now—he went with me to 2, Walpole Place, Woolwich, which is about twenty yards from Waterman's Fields—the prisoner occupied the second floor there; he came in while I was there—the landlord lives there, but not in that room—he is married, I saw his wife on the first floor—the second floor front is occupied by the prisoner and his wife—I found two boxes, one over the other, placed as a table, with a covering over them—I removed the top box and found a box underneath containing caudles and soap very neatly packed away, under which were two large parcels of brown paper containing 133 stearine candles, 103 moulds, 88 paraffin, and 42lb. soap (produced); the stearine and mould candles and soap found at Farr's were the same quality as those found at the prisoner's—the prisoner came into the room, and I said,"I have found these candles and soap
in your room, I have also found a great quantity at Farr's house; he states that you brought them out of the Arsenal and gave them to him; how do you account for those which were found in your room?" (Farr was present)—the prisoner said, "Oh! I can account for this"—I said, "I think there has been a System of robbery carried on for a long time in stealing these from the Arsenal; I am a police officer, you must consider yourself in my custody, you will go with me to the Arsenal"—he said, "Very well," but in the confusion of moving the boxes of stores a great number of people assembled and the prisoner ran away—I kept Farr in custody, took him before a Magistrate, and he pleaded guilty—I tried to find the prisoner from Sunday up to Tuesday morning—I went back to the place where he lived with his wife, but could not see him; I also sent other people there—he was not in the Arsenal, and was returned as a deserter from his regiment—on the Tuesday I traced him to 93, Upper John Street, Clerken-well, where I found him in bed about eight a.m.; I said, "I have got you at last; why did you make your escape? you had better have stopped and, defended your case in the best way you could"—he said, "You came so quick upon me, I wanted time to consider; in fact, I should hare been out at the window now, if I had had half a chance, before you got me; I decline answering any further questions, because I know you will use it in evidence against me"—I took him in custody and brought him to Wool wich—he said, at his house, when Farr was there, that he had had these candles and soap some two or three years ago.
Cross-examined. Q. Is there any mark on the soap? A. Only the contractor's mark—that would be on all the soap he makes—there is no original mark that I am aware of.
COURT. Q. When you say contractors, do you mean "makers?" A. Yes—I am given to understand that the contractors are the makers.
THOMAS POPE . I have charge of the stores in the Royal Arsenal, Woolwich, where Farr and the prisoner worked—candles and soap of precisely the same description as these were in the stores—soap is missing, but I cannot exactly say the quantity—the candles were being packed for abroad—53,0001b. of stearine and mould candles have been sent in since September—stearine candles are not a modern manufacture, they have been I in some years; paraffin candles are rather more modern, but they have been in some few years—this soap is marked "Hearns's Soap Works"—Mr. Hearns is our contractor, and I believe he is the manufacturer also—I took stock at the commencement of October, knowing that I had a large quantity coming in, and once or twice since—since this occurrence I have taken stock again and find no deficiency, because I reckoned that the full amount of candles have gone abroad—that does not apply to the soap—there is a deficiency of seventy or eighty pounds in the soap—Farr and the prisoner worked in other stores besides mine—the prisoner was a marker in the same store.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you really missed any? A. I have said that I missed no candles; I cannot say whether any have been taken, as the time has not arrived to receive reports from foreign stations—I cannot state the quantity of soap missing, because it will loose weight—this piece (produced) would weigh about one pound—it is half a bar; and this is a bar which weighed about three pounds originally—I dare say it is six ounces deficient now—this piece was originally the same size.
MR. BESLET. Q. How many pounds of candles do you suppose you sent abroad? A. 53,990lb.
JOHN FARR . I live at 32, Waterman's Fields, Woolwich, and was a labourer in Woolwich Arsenal—I was convicted on 23rd April and imprisoned—I have undergone my sentence—I was engaged in packing candles in the store which is under Pope's superintendance—I know the prisoner—he brought me the candles which were found at my house—he wore the same dress that he has on at present (The regimental dress), and sometimes he had his military cloak, and sometimes a cape—he has brought the soap and candles tied up in a brown paper pareel—it was impossible for me to take soap and candles out of the Arsenal, because I was very closely searched—he said, when we had been packing them some time, that he should like to have some of those candles—I said, "You had better not have anything to do with them"—he said that he could get them out quite safe, there would be nothing to fear about it—he did not say anything more at that time, but he commenced bringing them out, and he brought some to my house—I have seen him take the candles which were in the store two or three different times from the cases which we were packing from for foreign service, not the cases which we were packing up—I never saw him take any soap, but he brought soap to my place—he has been to my place a dozen times—he commenced about November, when we commenced candle-packing—I did not give him any money for the things he brought to my place—he had nothing to do with screwing up the cases—when he brought the candles somebody was generally present, so nothing passed—towards the last I wished him not to bring any more, for I felt sure we should get into trouble—the packages were screwed down by a carpenter with a brace, which was left in the store after the carpenter was gone—the cases were left there till they were shipped.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the soap remain at your place without being diminished in quantity? A. I had nothing to do with it; it was put away in a box in the room—people were generally present when the prisoner came—West and Curran used to be there—I have known the prisoner five or six months—he did not screw up the boxes, the carpenter did that with eight screws—I saw him do it—the lids of the boxes were loose before he screwed them up—four of us would be present while he was screwing—the room was lighted by gas at night—they were screwed at night as well.
MR. BESLEY. Q. What was the prisoner's duty? A. To mark them after they were screwed—you can draw out screws with the carpenter's brace.
SARAH FARR . I am the wife of the last witness—the prisoner has been at our house several times when my husband has been out of an evening, and brought candles and soap, which were found at our house—he sometimes wore his military cloak and sometimes his cape—he took the parcels from under his cloak when he delivered them to me—I once said that I did not want them; he said, "Take them; they will be a good help to you; I can bring them out quite safe; I am not searched"—Curran and West both lodge with me, and the prisoner generally came just after six, when they were getting their tea, and he would say, "Here is something to show your husband," or "Here is a parcel for your husband."
Cross-examined. Q. Was your husband imprisoned for this? A. Yes, for a fortnight—his imprisonment expired a fortnight to-day—he paid the fine.
MR. KIBTON to J. FARR. Q. Were you sentenced to be imprisoned for a fortnight? A. Yes—I was examined before a Magistrate on 23rd April—I consented to give evidence against the prisoner this day fortnight in the Court—the inspector proposed it—he said that he wished me to do so—that was after I was sentenced and after I was liberated—I did not plead guilty before the Magistrate—I was charged with unlawful possession, not with stealing—I got a fortnight—I was remanded—before I got the fortnight I was not asked to give evidence against Cardigan—I suffered in prison for a fortnight, and was fined in addition—the sentence of imprisonment was changed to a fine, and I did not serve the fortnight's imprisonment—the sentence was not changed to a fine as soon as I was asked to give evidence against Cardigan—I was sentenced to a fortnight's imprisonment, but at the first onset I never had any hearing—I was remanded till they could apprehend Cardigan—I was not sentenced to a fortnight's imprisonment—I was only remanded, and when I came up again I paid the fine, which was 40s.—it was not before I was fined that I told the inspector I would state what I knew about Cardigan—I was not compelled to do it—the inspector did not propopose to me to give evidence, but I understood that I was compelled to do it—the inspector told me I was to come tip as a ft witness against Cardigan; that was after I was fined and liberated—I had paid the fine the game afternoon—my wife got the money from a friend.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Was any inducement held out to you to give evidence? A. Not at all—I was taken on 7th April—I saw Carnelly, the inspector, that day, and had a conversation with him, in which I mentioned Cardigan's name—he knew it on 7th April.
THOMAS JENNING CARNELLY . I am inspector of Woolwich Arsenal Police—on 7th April, when Farr was in custody, I brought him from the Arsenal to the police-station, and he made a statement to me—I held out no inducement or threats to him, neither did I caution him—he mentioned Cardigan's name—he was remanded until Cardigan was in custody.
JOHN CURRAN . I am a fishmonger's assistant—from September till some time in January I lodged at Farr's house—It is eight weeks since I left—I have seen the prisoner come there once or twice with a parcel when I have been at tea—he sometimes said that he had something for the rabbits, and sometimes that he had something for Mr. Farr to look at—the cover of the parcel was brown paper—I only saw it once—I do not know whether he wore anything over his dress—I used to sit with my back to the fire—he did not stay above a minute or two—he always went through into the back place.
CHARLES WEST . I am employed in Woolwich Arsenal, and have lived in Farr's house this year—I have seen the prisoner there several times—he has brought brown paper parcels, which he gave to Farr—I have not heard him say anything about them—I was absent from the house ten hours a day—I used to knock off work at six o'clock, and used to sit there from six till ten, unless I went out, which I very seldom did, being so tired.
Cross-examined. Q. Used the carpenter to screw down the cases and leave his brace there? A. Yes, any of the men had an opportunity of taking soap out without my seeing them—the carpenter is not here—the men who remained could not take soap out when there were a lot of them together.
MR. BESLEY. Q. After the screws had been drawn, could they be put in again? A. Yes, with the same tool—there were stacks of wood about in the stores, so that the men could not see one another sometimes.
GUILTY .— Confined Twelve Months.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. DALY the Defence.
HENRY REED . I am salesman to Messrs. Henry and Alfred Sharp, of High Street, Deptford, clothiers—about 7.30 on 15th April the prisoner came in and asked if I had got a pieco of silk for sale—I placed two lengths on the counter, one eleven yards, and the other two and a quarter yards long—she looked at them, and said they were not the sort she had sen a pattern of, which a friend of hers had obtained from our shop—I showed her another piece, a longer length—she looked at that four or five minutes, and then asked me to give her a small piece of it as a pattern to take away, which I did—I put that roll back in the drawer, and then I missed the piece containing two and a quarter yards—I looked about for it, but could not find it—I had attended to another customer who wanted a coat for her husband, but when I left to do that the silk was lying on the counter—I looked among the coats the woman had been looking at, but could not see the silk—I said to the prisoner, "Did you observe two pieces of silk when I first showed you them?"—she said, "Oh!'dear, no, I only saw one"—I said, "I am certain there were two pieces, one was a small piece"—she then said she wished to buy a pair of boots—I called the boy to get her three or four pairs, and she choosed a pair—she had on a large long cloak, and she kept her left arm close down—I asked her to try on the boots, but she would not—I said, "It would be more satisfactory if you were to see them on"—she said she was certain they would do, but if not, would I change them for another pair? and I said I would—I had an object in asking her to try them on—she paid for the boots, and was about to take them off the counter—I said, "I do not feel satisfied about this silk"—she said, "Perhaps it may be among the coats"—I said, "I will take them up one by one," which I did, and shook them—she took up one coat with her right hand—I asked the boy to look on the floor where the prisoner was standing, but he could not see the silk—she was about going, and I said, "Would you have any objection to step into the parlour? Mr. Sharp is there"—she did not hesitate at all, but said, "Oh! yes," and walked down towards the parlour—when near the parlour door I saw her left arm rise, I looked, and there was the piece of silk I had shown her in the first instance on a box—the box was about eight yards from where the prisoner had looked at the silk—I took the silk up and said, "I am rather surprised; I did not think you would do such a thing, you being dressed respectably, and from your manner"—she said, "It must have caught by a pin, and then dropped"—she implored of me to let her go for the sake of her family, and offered to go on her knees—I spoke to Mr. Sharp, and sent for a constable—this is the piece of silk (produced).
Cross-examined. Q. Was she not dreadfully frightened and agitated? A. No—I do not think she was—perhaps she was not quite so cool as I am now—she said it was the first time, and hoped and prayed to God I would not take any notice of it, but let her go—my deposition before the Magistrate was read over to me, and I signed it—I did not notice any omission in it—
I was on her right side when I saw her left arm move—I could not see the silk drop, because her cloak reached nearly to the ground—the box was close to her—I should say the cloak was lower than the top of the box—the box was about a foot and a half high, and then there was a parcel on that containing a good many things.
MR. LANGFORD. Q. It did not occupy more than an instant? A. No—I had no idea what she was going to do.
JOHN HARDSLEY (Policeman 251 R). I was called into Mr. Sharp's shop on the evening of 15th April—the last witness told me she had stolen a piece of silk, and Mr. Sharp gave her into custody—she begged and prayed of him not to do so, but he said he could not look over it—I took her to the station—she told me it might have caught by a pin, and that was the only way she could account for it—she opened her cloak, but I could not see a pin about her.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
AMBROSE SUTTON (Policeman 422 A). On Easter Monday evening, about 7.45, I was on duty at Greenwich Railway Station and saw the prisoner there in the crowd which was pushing towards the platform—I was close to his side, and saw him draw a handkerchief from a gentleman's right-hand pocket—I was behind him and tried to take him, but the doors opened and the crush forced me away from him—I made towards him, and as I got near him John Phillips had hold of him—I did not see the gentleman afterwards—I searched the prisoner in the telegraph office, and found four cotton pocket-handkerchiefs—two were in his left-hand trousers pocket, one under his left arm, and one in his right trousers pocket; also a pocket-book, a tobacco pouch with 2s. 0 3/4 d. in it, and a small brush—I told him I should take him in charge for stealing the handkerchiefs—he said, "Oh! they are not mine."
Prisoner. Q. On which side of the man was I? A. On his left, and your left side was to him—you used your right hand.
JOHN PHILLIPS . I am a leather dresser, of 4, Little George Street, Bermondsey—on Easter Monday, about half-past eight, I was at the Greenwich Railway Station—there was a great crowd, and, from something which occurred, I took hold of the prisoner and gave him to the officer for attempting to steal my watch.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate:—"I picked a bundle up in Greenwich Park. It contained silk handkerchiefs and three cotton handkerchiefs, one of which wrapped up the bundle. The pocket-book was also in the bundle."
Prisoner's Defence. I picked the bundle up in the park, and the dirtiest of those handkerchiefs was round it. Some girls kicked it along. When I was at the station Mr. Phillips said I struck him, and gave me in charge for attempting to steal his watch.
GUILTY .**— Confined Eighteen Months.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES HOCKING (Policeman A 495). I was on duty about twelve o'clock on 25th April in New Cross Road, Deptford, and saw the prisoner with a donkey, going towards London from Greenwich—I stopped him and asked where he had got the donkey from—he said he had bought it of a farmer named Johnson, at Footscray—I said I should take him to the station, as I was not satisfied with his account—on the way he said he had bought it of a man, he did not know who, for 16s. and a pot of beer—as I was going to take him into custody he ran away towards London, the donkey ran towards Blackheath—I afterwards took the donkey into custody, and found the owner, who recognised it.
WILLIAM FRENCH . I am a postmaster at Greenwich—I left my donkey to graze at Blackheath, I saw it there at seven o'clock on the evening of the 25th March—I do not know the prisoner, I did not give him any permission to take away my donkey—it was worth 2l.—I next saw it on the Saturday at the greenyard in the possession of the police, and recognised it as mine.
Prisoner's Defence. I was coming from Bexley Heath, and saw the donkey by the side of the road, and thought I could lead him to Blackheath.
GUILTY . He also pleaded guilty to a previous conviction, in March, 1866.— Confined Eighteen Months.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. R. N. PHILLIPS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COOPER the Defence.
The Jury in this case were unable to agree and were discharged without giving a verdict. The defendant was subsequentlg tried before another Jury and acquitted.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
LOUIS DE ST. JEAN . I am a drawing master, of Great Union Street, Borough—one night last month, at twelve o'clock, I was in some street in the Borough—the prisoner and another man came up to me and asked me for some money, as they were poor and had a large family; I took out my purse and gave them 1s. 6d.; they asked me to come on that side, and then knocked me down and robbed me of all my money, about 12s., and the
key of my door—I cried, "Police!" and they tried to escape, but I went to the station with the prisoner—I was quite near enough to him to know him well.
Prisoner. Q. You were fighting with two men under the railway arch? A. No—I was alone—you did not take my part—you did not pick me up, nor did I turn round and hit you on the mouth.
HENRY POLE (Policeman 59 M). I heard cries of "Police!" and went down King Street, Borough, where I saw the prisoner with his left hand holding the prosecutor's neck, and his right by his side either in his pocket or outside—he was decidedly not helping the prosecutor, but he said he was assisting him up from the ground; the prosecutor said that he had robbed him—one man ran away, but I did not see him begin to run—the prosecutor was quite sober—I searched the place where the scuffle was, and found sixpence on the ground—the prisoner tried to get away from me.
Prisoner. I did not, I never moved from the spot.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was that he saw the prosecutor knocked down, went to his assistance, and was given in charge.
Prisoner's Defence. He was half tipsy and did not know what he was doing. The policeman has put him up to say here what he did not say to the Magistrate. I have worked twelve or fourteen years at the water-side, and no one can charge me with a ha'porth of thievery.
He was further charged with having been before convicted.
RICHARD KEMP . I am warder of the House of Correction, Wandsworth—I produce a certificate. (Read:—Wandsworth Police-court—Michael Collins, convicted on his own confession, December, 1863, of stealing a watch.— Confined Three Months.) I had him in custody—the prisoner is the man.
GUILTY.**— Confined Eighteen Months.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
ANN BURKES . I am barmaid at the New Bridge Hotel, Westminster Bridge Road—on 12th March, between eight and nine in the evening, the prisoner came for a glass of ale, which came to 1 1/2 d.—he gave me a bad shilling—I gave it to my master—the prisoner then gave me a good shilling, and I gave him the change.
CHARLES SPENCER CROWDER . I am landlord of the New Bridge Hotel—I received a bad shilling from the last witness—I asked the prisoner where he got it, and whether he had any more—he made no answer, and I gave him in charge with the shilling.
Prisoner. Q. Did I make any attempt to go? A. You had no opportunity, because I got over the counter so quick.
GEORGE BOWEN (Policeman 3 L). Mr. Crowder gave the prisoner into my custody with this shilling (produced)—I found 10 1/2 d. on him—he gave his name Eugene Clifford—he was taken before the Magistrate the following day and discharged.
gave me a bad florin for two ounces of ten, which came to 6d.—I looked him in the face, and he offered me a good one before I said anything—he was given in custody with the coin.
Prisoner. Q. How did you know it was bad? A. By biting it, and by the sound—I did not bend it.
SAMUEL GILLESPIE . I am a grocer, of Blackman Street—on 2nd April King showed me a florin in the prisoner's presence—he went outside the door when Xing sent for a constable, but came back and was given in custody—I showed him the bad florin before he gave the good one.
Prisoner. When I saw you were determined to lock me up, I said I would go and fetch a constable. Witness. You did not; you did go outside—I believe you could have escaped if you wished.
MR. POLAND. Q. When he went out for a minute or so, who was in the shop? A. My two assistants, the porter, and myself—Mitchell had gone for a constable then.
JOHN OXFORD (Policeman 173 M). The prisoner was given in my custody at Mr. Gillespie's—I took this bad florin from the counter in his presence—I searched him, but only found a tobacco pouch—he gave his name Henry Smith.
Prisoner. Q. Did you find a good florin on me? A. No, but I received it from somebody—you applied to the Magistrate for it and received it—I went to the house where you lived the same night, after you were in custody—I did not go on any other occasion—I did not hear whether you had been in America lately.
The prisoner called Martha Smith, who did not appear.
Prisoner's Defence. In June, 1857, I went to America. Since then I have only been in England for three weeks. I was there five years, During that time I never handled a pound's worth of English silver or gold, and am a very poor judge of money. I got half a crown from my sister at Notting Hill, and received a florin from an omnibus conductor in change. I did not think I was getting bad money. I called for a glass of ale, and unfortunately gave a bad shilling. I then laid a good shilling down. The gentleman tries to make out that I had the tenpence-halfpenny at the time I gave the bad shilling, but the evidence shows that it was not so. With regard to the second case, I received 5s. 6d. for work, two florins, a shilling, and a sixpence, one of which florins turns out to be bad. I told the Magistrate that I required the attendance of witnesses.
COURT to GEORGE BOWEN. Q. Did the prisoner request some witnesses to be sent for? A. Yes, and the Magistrate said he did not think it was equired.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
ELLEN HURLEY . I was thirteen years old yesterday, and live with my parents in William Street, Blackfriars Road—on 17th April I was in Charles Street, near my home, and the prisoner asked me if I would fetch her half a quartern of gin across the road—she gave me a shilling and a small bottle—I went over to the Coachmakers' Arms and went into the house—I then looked at the shilling, and thought it was bad—I asked for the gin and gave the shilling—I am sure I gave the same shilling the prisoner gave me—I had two more shillings in my left hand, but the shilling I got from the prisoner was in my right hand—the landlady looked at
the shilling and gave it back to me, and the change and the gin—a person named Brazier was in the shop—I went out and met the prisoner near the public-house—I said, "Here is your gin and your change"—I put the change on her shawl, which was over her hand, but she did not take the gin, as Mr. Brazier came and touched her, and then she said, "My dear, it is not me; you have made a mistake"—I said, "No, ma'am, I have not"—she had a large bottle in her other band—I had noticed that when she gave me the shilling and the little bottle—she was taken back to Mr. French's.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say, "You have made a mistake, my girl, it is not me," and did not you say, "There is no other woman standing in the street, therefore it must be you?" A. Yes; when I saw the large bottle I was certain it was you—I am sure you are the woman.
EDWARD BRAZIER . I am a carpenter, of 21, St. John Street, Smith-field Bars—on 17th April I was in the Coachmakers Anns, and saw the little girl served with some gin—I said something, and went out into the street before her, and walked slowly on the pavement, and saw her come out and go up to the prisoner, who was very close to the public-house door—she said, "There is your change"—I tapped her on the shoulder, and then she said to the child, "You have made a mistake"—the girl said, "No, I have not"—she was tpken to the public-house—Mrs. French took, the money from her, and I fetched a policeman.
MARY ANN FRENCH . I am the wife of Philip French, who keeps the Coachmakers' Arms—on 17th April the little girl asked me for half a quartern of gin, and produced a bottle and a shilling, which I found was bad, but gave her the change and the gin—I spoke to Brazier, who went out—I followed the girl out, and saw the prisoner, who had then come across the road and got to the next door—I went up to her and took the change from her, which was on her shawl, on her hand—she came back voluntarily—I gave the shilling to the constable.
Prisoner's Defence. I was coming home from the hospital, where I had left my little boy. This girl came up to me and said, "Your change; you gave me a shilling to go for a quartern of gin." I said, "You have made a mistake." She said, "There is no other woman in the street but you, and it must be you." Mrs. French gave me in custody. I had never seen the child till she approached me with the change.
COURT to EDWARD BRAZIER. Q. Did you see the prisoner before the child came out? A. Yes, she crossed towards the public-house; the child came out, went straight up to her, and gave her the change—she looked across the road first, but turned round and saw her close to her—she went to meet the child as she came out of the public-house.
GUILTY .*— Confined Nine Months.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution, and MR. DALY the Defence.
ELIZABETH BAKER . I am twelve years old, and live with my mother at the Three Horseshoes beer-house, Prince's Street, Lambeth—on Monday, 1st April, between one and two o'clock, the prisoner came in for a half-screw
of tobacco, which came to a halfpenny—he gave me a half-crown—I put it in a cupboard where there were only sixpences and shillings, and locked the cupboard—I gave him his change and he left—on the same day I saw my mother take out that half-crown—I was in the bar from the time I put it in the cupboard till she took it out—I saw other money put into the cupboard, but no other half-crowns—my mother sent me with it to the John Bull to get some spirits between four and five o'clock—the barmaid there put it in her mouth and said that it was bad—I took it back and gave it to my mother—on the following Saturday the prisoner came again, and I told my grandmother.
Cross-examined. Q. How many persons were there? A. One—I had just served a man with a glass of ale, for which he had paid me with a penny—the prisoner did not drink anything—he did not remain many minutes—I knew him again by his voice when he came on the 6th—he was taken then—ray grandmother told him that the shilling was bad, and he said he was innocent—he offered a good shilling—he did not have a gallon of ale with some friends after he was told that the shilling was bad—he was in the house a good while—he did not know that I had gone for a policeman.
MR. POLAND. Q. Did you take more than one half-crown on the Monday? A. No.
JANE BAKER . I keep the Three Horseshoes beer-house, Prince's Street, Lambeth—on 1st April, between four and five o'clock, I went to a cupboard in the bar—I found a half-crown, some sixpences, and shillings—I gave that half-crown to my little girl to get some spirits—she shortly afterwards brought it back, and I noticed that it was bad—I wrapped it up in paper, and on Thursday gave it to my sister, Ann Underwood—I afterwards received it from Charles Underwood, and gave it to my mother-in-law, Maria Baker—there is a slight mark on it by which I know it—I did not see the prisoner, but I heard him ask the girl for the tobacco, and I said, "We do not make half-screws."
Cross-examined. Q. What occurred about the shilling? A. My mother went in to the prisoner to serve him with a glass of porter—I said, "Mother, that is the man who brought the half-crown; it was a rank bad one, I dare say"—she went into the bar, and I said, "That is the man; he has been here before"—he said that he had never been there—he offered another half-crown for the one he had given my little girl on Monday—that was because I threatened to lock him up—there were seven or eight persons in the tap-room, but they all came out as soon as they heard the noise—the girl said, "That is the man with the black coat"—he stopped there nearly an hour—they had a gallon of ale, and he helped to drink it.
ANN UNDERWOOD . I am the wife of Charles Underwood, and the sister of the last witness—on Thursday, 4th April, I received a coin from her wrapped up in paper—I put it in my pocket, and afterwards gave it to my husband.
MARIA BAKER . I live at Thurston Cottages, Clapham—on 1st April I was staying at the Three Horseshoes—I saw the prisoner there, I am sure of him, I saw the little girl serve him—he came to the bar again on 6th April, about seven in the evening—I served him with a glass of porter, which came to a penny, and hegave me a shilling—I took it into the kitchen to the little girl, and said, "Here is the man who brought the bad half-crown"—she went out for a policeman—I gave the shilling to Mr. Brown—
on 9th April I gave the half-crown to Mrs. Baker, and a day or two afterwards I gave the shilling to the constable.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the child serving alone? A. Yes; I was in the kitchen, and came out to see what it was; the child said, "That is the man, grandmother"—she knew him by his voice and his looks—I was positive it was him before I saw the child—I had never seen him before to notice him—he remained a minute on the Monday.
WILLIAM BROWN . I am a painter, of 90, Stephen Street, Wandsworth Road—I was in this house on the Saturday night; the last witness showed me a shilling—I put it to my teeth and found that it was bad, the prisoner was there—I said, "Well, old fellow, you are just the fellow I am looking for; you came last Monday, and passed a bad half-crown on the child, and now you come again to-night and bring another bad shilling; you vagabond!"—I showed him the shilling, he said that he did not know that it was bad—he threw down another to pay for the porter, and held out his hand for the bad shilling—I said, "Oh! no, my dear fellow, you don't have that any more"—the landlady gave him the change for the good one, he afterwards threw half a crown on the counter, and said that he would sooner give half a crown—the half-crown was picked up by one of the bystanders, who agreed that it should be spent, and some ale was called for and partaken of by all in front of the bar—the prisoner remained there all the time—the prisoner said, "I wish you a very good night; I suppose it is all right now"—I said, "No, my good fellow, you do not go like that; there will be some friend of yours here presently, who perhaps you may like to see," and he went with some of the others into the tap-room—I went to the bar-door, thinking he was going out that way, and stood in front of the doorway—he said, "I am a respectable man; it will bring a great deal of disgrace on me; I will give half a crown for it, as you say I passed it, and stand some more beer"—I said, "I don't know anything about what you will do, or about paying any of your money"—Mrs. Baker insisted that he should be locked up—I gave the shilling to Mrs. Baker, who gave it to the policeman, who gave it to me, and I marked it.
JAMES DETHERIDGE . I am a labourer, of Wickham Street, Lambeth—on 1st April, between one and two, I was at the Three Horseshoes, and saw the little girl serve the prisoner with a glass of porter and a screw of tobacco—I am certain he is the man—he gave her a half-crown—I saw the prisoner again on Saturday—I was shown a bad shilling—I stood at the door and recognised the man who passed the half-crown on the Monday—I went and stood behind him—he gave a shilling—they detected it, and he said he was a respectable shoemaker, and had been taking his work to the shop, and never was in the habit of passing bad money—he turned round to go out—I said, "No, you do not go till the mistress likes to let you go," and she locked him up—I am confident he is the same man.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you drink any of the prisoner's beer? A. Not on the Monday—I drank a couple or three glasses of it on the Saturday—I did not want him to stand some more—I had no ale—I saw him come in on the Saturday, but she said nothing till the question was put—some one remarked that he was the man who had given a bad half-crown—I made no remark till she recognised him—I work in a bone-yard, and have been twenty-five years with one master, Mr. Dunn.
JOHN ENGLAND (Policeman 141 L). I was called to the Three Horse-shoes on this Saturday evening, and the prisoner was given into my charge for passing a bad half-crown on the Monday and a bad shilling that evening
—I produce them—he said that he did not know that it was a bad shilling, and he was not there on the Monday previous—I found on him 3s. in silver, 5d. in copper (good), and a knife and purse.
Cross-examined. Q. Were the depositions taken in open Court, in the presence of the accused? A. Yes.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JAMES CRESSWELL . I live at 2, John Street, Walworth—the prisoner has been my tenant going on for four years—he is a ladies' shoemaker—he was in my house the whole day on 1st April, soleing and heeling a pair of boots or shoes which came in on Saturday, and he was obliged to do it on Monday—he could not have gone out without my knowing it—he was not out—he came out into the garden between twelve and one, and I saw him feed his rabbits—he occupies the lower part, and I should have known if he had gone out—he worked up to six o'clock or later, when he finished his job, and I believe he sent it home by his wife.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND Q. What number in John Street do you live? A. No. 2, two doors from Hill Street—I heard of this matter last Thursday—I knew the prisoner was out of the way before that, but did not know the cause of it—I did not know till Thursday that he was in custody—I never inquired where he was, or anything about him; I had quite enough to do to mind my own business—his sister told me about it last Thursday—he never sent for me to go to the police-court—that is where I am surprised—he occupies the front parlour and I the back—I am a linen-presser—I cannot tell you what the prisoner was doing on the Monday before this, or the Thursday or Wednesday before, but I can tell about the Monday, because it was April Fool day—there was nothing special in his feeding the rabbits on April Fool day—he feeds them three or four times a day sometimes.
MR. DALY. Q. How came you to give evidence to-day? A. His sister told me about it—nobody made an April fool of me, but I said to the prisoner, "There are all your rabbits running about," and he jumped up and ran into the garden to see after them—I then said, "What a fool you are!"
COURT to JOHN ENGLAND. Q. On what day was the prisoner committed? A. On 17th April—the Three Horseshoes is a mile distant from Mr. Cresswell's house.
GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted of uttering, in July, 1858, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. E.P. WOOD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COOPER the Defences.
WILLIAM PEARCE . I reside at 12, Windsor Terrace—at a quarter to nine on the evening of 13th April I was in the Great Dover Road—I was going to catch a nine o'clock train—as I was passing Leicester Houses a man seized me at the back of my head—he put one hand over my mouth—I looked him full in the face—there was sufficient light for me to see him—two others pinned my arms behind me and took my watch, and rifled my pockets—I had a sovereign and 27s. in silver—I fell down and they ran
away—the prisoner is the man that seized me—I could swear to him among thousands—I got up and cried) "Stop thief!"—I ran to the corner of Kent Street, and a woman said they had gone up George Street—I next saw the prisoner at the Southwark Police-station, on the following Tuesday—he was with five others, and I picked him out at once—he said he was not there, it was Bandy and some other; I forget the other name—I am certain he is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. You have always been positive about that? A. Quite sure—I was rather frightened—I had never seen the prisoner before in my life—I gave a description of the others—I did not see their faces.
WILLIAM ELDRED (Policeman 130 M). I took the prisoner on the morning of the 16th, in the Red Lion, Suffolk Street, on another charge—that was for knocking down Dr. Wood—Dr. Wood could not identify him—I then detained him on this charge—I communicated with the prosecutor—I saw him identify the prisoner—there was no hesitation whatever.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you tell Mr. Pearce that you had a man in custody whom you thought was the right one? A. No, I told him I had a man in custody—I took Mr. Pearce to see him.
Witnesses for the Defence.
THOMAS TYSON . I have been a soldier, and am now under-deputy at a lodging-house, No. 20, Mint Street, Borough—on Saturday, 13th, the prisoner came home between eight and nine—I am positive he did not go out again—I do not receive the money, but stop up at night to let people in and to call them in the morning.
JURY. Q. What time do you commence your duties? A. Six in the evening—the street door is open till perhaps two in the morning—he could not have gone out without my seeing him.
MR. COOPER. Q. How far is Dover Road from Mint Street? A. Fifty or sixty yards—he came in about half-past eight—he went and stood by the fire—he was ordered away, and then he went and laid on the form until about a quarter to ten, and then he went to bed—I am quite certain about that.
Cross-examined. Q. Does the prisoner reside at this lodging-house? A. Yes, as long as I knowed him, very near two years—there is a deputy over me that takes the money—I show strangers their beds—the house holds 101—they all go into the kitchen before going to bed—I sit on the end of a table—I sat there from six in the evening till the next morning—I go to bed in the daytime.
COURT. Q. How do you know it was half-past eight when the prisoner came in? A. Because he is such a man for larking and so on—there is a clock in the room—I noticed the clock—another man came in with the prisoner, and I went to see the time—when I said I knew it was half-past eight because he is such a man for larking, I misunderstood the question, I knew it because I was looking at the time.
MR. WOOD. Q. Was there very much larking going on that night? A. Yes—I kept as much order as I could—the deputy was there—he is not here—there was another witness at the police-court, named George Gee—I am not aware that he is here to-day—I have not seen him.
MR. COOPER. Q. Does the prisoner make the kitchen merry when he comes in? A. He does—another man came in directly after him—when he went to bed he bid me good night.
COURT. Q. Which room were you in? A. I was in the kitchen,
another man came in, and I went aud looked what time it was, and it was half-past eight—I do not know why I went—I do not look at the clock when every man comes in—the prisoner has lodged there, on and off, ever since I have known him, about two years—that would be from about May 1865—he has continued to lodge there from that time to this, on and off—some nights he has not been home at all, perhaps three nights at the most—he has only been absent about three nights at the most—I positively swear that—he could not have been away a year without my knowing it.
GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WRIGHT the Defence.
JOHN HENRY MOURGUE . I live at No. 2, Alma Road, Blue Anchor Road, and am a stationer—between twelve and one on the morning of 9th April I was passing No. 8, Alma Road, in company with a man named Johnson—the prisoner and his wife live there—he is my brother-in-law—I heard quarrelling between him and my sister—they occupy the first floor—I knocked at the door, and the landlady let me in—I went up to the front room, and Johnson followed—I pushed the door to open it, and the prisoner was pushing from the inside—I heard my sister say, "William, there is John outside; lock the door"—I continued pushing—the door yielded, and while on the threshold the prisoner struck me with a knife—I felt the blood trickle down my left hand—I pushed him against the window—I put my right hand up to save my throat, and he then struck me with a knife in the right hand—it was a pocket clasp-knife—I went down stairs—a policeman was outside—he took me under a lamp and looked at my hands, and said, "Go to the doctor's"—I went to a doctor's, and then to the hospital—I told the constable to take the prisoner in charge.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you were excited? A. I heard quarrelling, and of course I had a feeling for my sister—I had just come from a friend's—I had had some refreshment—there was a candle burning in the room—there was no light on the staircase—I do not know whether the door was locked; it was closed—I do not know whether I broke open the door—I asked him what right he had to insult my sister, and then a struggle took place—I did not hear the prisoner say, "You have no right here, you had better go away"—I do not remember saying, "I will break your b—head open"—I won't swear I did not say it—I was so weak when at the police-court that I do not know what I did say.
MR. LANGFORD. Q. Is that the knife (produced)? A. That is the knife; I can identify it—I saw it in the prisoner's hands—I had never seen it before.
COURT. Q. How long has your sister been married to him? A. Between nine and ten years—I was on intimate terms with them—we have quarrelled now and then, about domestic affairs principally—I am not married—I live six doors off.
STEPHEN BUSHELL . On 9th April I was house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—a little after two a.m. Mr. Mourgue was brought to me with three several wounds on the hands; one on the left hand, an inch and a half long, at the back, over the knuckles, and little finger—the tendons were cut—on the right hand there was one three inches in length, extending from the centre of the palm, to the centre of the little finger—a piece was cut off the thumb—it was half an inch deep—those wounds were inflicted by some sharp instrument—the knife produced would have produced such wounds—his little finger will be permanently stiff—the right hand has healed—he lost a great deal of blood.
Cross-examined. Q. Are those wounds that might haye been produced in an ordinary struggle? A. Yes.
COURT. Q. Have you heard the prosecutor's evidence? A. Yes—the wounds might have been received in the way described by him.
JAMES JOHNSON . I live at 81, Fort Road, Bermondsey—I was with Mr. Mourgue on the morning in question—as we were passing No. 2, Alma Road, we heard a noise coming from the rooms up stairs—he said, "Let's go up stairs, and see what is the matter"—I said, "Very well, I will go with you"—he said, "Yes, do come"—we went up stairs—I saw the door give way—the prisoner rushed at him with a knife—I did not see him actually stab the prosecutor, but I saw the knife in his hand—I do not recollect hearing the prosecutor make use of any bad language.
COURT. Q. Did you go inside the room? A. Yes—I do not think the wife was in bed, I think she was undressed—I do not believe the prisoner intended to stab him, although he rushed at him.
GEORGE BIRT (Policeman 164 M). A little before one on the morning of 9th April Mourgue and Johnson came to me—Mourgue was bleeding—he told me what had occurred—I went up to the room and took the prisoner into custody—he said, "I did it, I did it in self-defence, as he forced his way into my bedroom"—to the best of my judgment they were both sober—I searched the room and found the knife, produced—it was in a drawer—there were appearances of blood upon it.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that the prisoner has been six years in one employment? A. I have been told so.
COURT. Q. Did you go into the room? A. After the prisoner was charged at the station—I do not know whether the wife was undressed or in bed—the prisoner had his trousers and waistcoat on, but no coat.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JUNE 10TH, 1867.