CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 16TH, 1867.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, December 16th, 1867, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir ROBERT LUSH , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; THOMAS CHALLIS , Esq., THOMAS SIDNEY , Esq., THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M.P., Aldermen of the said City; the Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS DAKIN , Esq., ANDREW LUSK , Esq., M.P., and JOSEPH CAUSTON , Esq., Aldermen. of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR , Esq., LL.D., Judge of the Sheriffs' Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTEAL CRIMINAL COURT.
ALLEN, MAYOR. SECOND 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, December 16th, 1867.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. SLEIGH and DALY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. METCALFE the Defence.
JOHN HOOPER SMITH . About August or September I became acquainted with the prisoner—I have a daughter named Clara Mary—the prisoner paid his addresses to her—I was present at their marriage on 15th December, 1860—he said he was traveller for gentleman named Salisbury with a salary of 300l. a year—I have compared the certificate of the marriage with the original entry in the parish book; it is correct—the prisoner and my daughter lived together about two or three years after the marriage—I saw her yesterday alive.
Cross-examined. Q. Where did you see her yesterday? A. Am I bound to say where?—at Richmond; I don't wish to give her address—I have reasons for not giving it—I saw her at a private house, and also at the railway station; she came down to see me, and went away by rail to London—she is not here to-day—I gave the prisoner into custody; I did not consult my daughter about it; I had not an opportunity—she was not in a lunatic asylum at that time—she has been at Bethlehem for a considerable time—the prisoner put her there I think in 1863, and his father brought her to my place of business—I think she was at Bethlehem about six months—I went there to see her—she was not confined before her marriage—the first symptoms of insanity she showed were when we were at Margate in 1858, I believe, on a hot summer's day she had a sunstroke, and was delirious—they sent to me in London, and I went down
and stayed the night with her, next morning nature relieved her, and she was quite well—she had another attack about two years after, or it might be a twelvemonth; that was not a sun-stroke—it was some months before her marriage; it lasted one or two days it might have been—she was staying with some friends, and I was sent for—she was quite well after that till her marriage—she genenilly lived with me—I am not a widower—I married again, about two years since, after the prisoner was married; I was a widower at that time—I have other daughters living with me—I think the prisoner was accepted as a suitor in August or the beginning of September and the marriage was in December—I did not tell him that my daughter had shown symptoms of insanity—I said there had been irregularities in her condition, arising from certain causes—I did not tell him that her mind had been affected; I did not consider it had been—I did not consult a doctor on the two occasions—one doctor was consulted, but I found her well before he arrived—no doctor attended her on the second occasion—I do not know or believe that after her marriage she stated that she had been living an improper life—I had no reason to believe so—about twelve months after she came to me from Bethlehem she went back; she found herself getting ill, and she went and placed herself under the same physician—she remained there about twelve months; she then came back to me—she did not go back after that—she has not shown any symptoms of insanity since—she never showed symptoms of dangerous insanity while at Bethlehem—it was mental insanity; that was what they termed it.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. With the exception of the two occasions you have mentioned before her marriage, did you ever observe anything about her indicating an aberration of intellect? A. No—she lived with me and was under my care up to her marriage—she was never guilty of any impropriety; she was a virtuous girl when she was married—during the first six months of her marriage, I think she cost me about 400l.
THOMAS ATKINSON BUTLER . I am a commander in the Royal Navy, and reside at 4, Elford Terrace, Camberwell—in October, 1864, I was present at the marriage of the prisoner with Miss Caroline Scott, the daughter of an old messmate of mine; I gave her away—she is here to-day.
CHARLES SADD . I am a civil engineer—I was present at the prisoner's vmarriage with Miss Scott—I produce the certificate, I compared it with the register; it is correct—(In the certificate the prisoner was described as a bachelor).
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know the lady previously? A. No; I was present as a friend of the prisoner's.
J. H. SMITH (re-examined). I know the prisoner's writing—I believe this to be his. (This was an affidavit, dated 13th October, 1864, signed by the prisoner, describing himself as a bachelor, and stating that there was no impediment to the marriage).
GUILTY .— Nine Months Imprisonment.
ANDREW HOGG . I am timekeeper at the British Museum—on 16th November I was at Newgate Market looking at some meat—I lost my watch—I did not feel it taken or know it, till my attention was called to it—I had seen it about two minutes before—I have not seen it since.
Prisoner. Q. Had you your watch in your pocket when you went into the market? A. Yes; I did not feel you take it, but I heard you own to it at Guildhall, and say you were sorry for it, and it was your first offence.
WILLIAM SHOREY . I am a labourer, and live at 47, Grafton Street, Kentish Town—on 16th November I was in Newgate Market quite close to the prosecutor—I saw the prisoner put his left hand in the prosecutor's pocket and take out the watch; he gave it to another man who was along" side of him, and he put his two hands in his pocket and walked off—I went up to the prosecutor and said, "Have you lost anything?"—he put his hand in his pocket, and said, "I hnro lost my watch—I said, "There is the man that has got it"—the prisoner was then ten or twelve yards away—I went and caught hold of him, and a friend went after the other man.
Prisoner. Q. Why not take me in custody at once? A. I did so—I saw you take the watch with one hand, you had your other hand down.
Prisoner's Defence. The witness says I did this with my left hand, which is an Impossible thing for any man to do—I had plenty of time to run away, but I did not attempt it, because I was not guilty.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT TOWNSEND . I keep the King Henry the Eighth public-house at Islington—on 19th November the prisoner called at my house—he said that he had come from Mr. Denyer respecting a situation in the country, and he handed me this letter. (This purported to be signed B. Denyer, and recommended the prisoner as a suitable person for a situation, and at the end were the words, "in the meantime you can send by the bearer two bottles of your best champagne, I am coming down on Friday to settle with you"—I gave the prisoner four pint bottles of champagne instead of two large ones, as I believed the letter to be Mr. Denver's writing.
MR. TOWNSEND (re-examined). The prisoner brought me this second letter three or four days after the other. (This referred to the former letter, and acknowledged the receipt of the wine.)
(The prisoner put in a written defence, stating that the letters were given to him by a man who met him on Holborn Hill, and who represented himself as Mr. Denyer, and that the articles he obtained were given to him.)
MR. TOWNSEND (re-examined). When he came on the first occasion he said he had come from Mr. Denyer, the gunmaker, of Holborn Hill, about a situation that was to go through me at Mr. Worroll's, a gunmakers, at Portsmouth—I gave the prisoner Mr. Worroll's address—the second time he came he asked if I had written to Mr. Worroll—I said I had not, but he would do so—he said he had written, butiad no answer.
GUILTY of uttering. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HOUSTON conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD CLAYTON . I am errand boy to Mr. Sykes, a commission agent, of 57, Carter Lane, Doctors' Commons—on 21st November, about noon, I was in the office by the fire; I turned round, but saw no one—I heard another footstep, turned round, and saw the prisoner taking the coat—I jumped up instantly, and the prisoner walked through the passage, I followed him, and took the coat from him on the doorstep—he got shuffling about and said he would tell Mr. Sykes—I followed him across the road—he said he would go and have some dinner—he went down Creed Lane—I brought him back to my place, my employer was not there, and I asked him to go with me to the Horn Tavern in Knightrider Street—when he got as far as Paul's Chain, he said he would not go any further, and he offered me money to let him go—the policeman came up and I gave him in charge—this is the coat (produced).
Prisoner. I did not offer him any money, or refuse to go with him. Witness. He said he had not much money with him, but he would not mind remunerating me, because I was a clever boy—the coat was hanging up in the office.
THOMAS MEW (City Policeman 466). On 21st November, about noon, I saw the last witness and the prisoner together in Paul's Chain—the witness charged him with stealing a coat from the office—the prisoner said he had not touched the coat—I took him to the station, and found on him thirteen keys, a pocket-book containing letters and documents, an empty bag, a purse containing 7 3/4 d., and three duplicates.
Prisoner's Defence. After the complete manner in which the boy has given his evidence I cannot possibly contend against it, but he has very much improved his evidence from when he first gave it. I had business at his master's office as the documents found on me will show, I was trying to get orders as an agent—unfortunately I was convicted six years ago, but I have since earned my living respectably, and was in actual employment at the time I was accused of this offence. I have a sick wife and four infant children.
GUILTY . He further PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction at this Court in December, 1857.— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
The following Prisoners PLEADED GUILTY:—
57. EDWARD CHARLES IRVING (21), to embezzling 10l. 12s. 6d., 15l. 4s., and other sums, of Charles Willborn Slee, and another.— Five Years'Penal Servitude. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
59. JOHN COOK NEIL (28) , to two indictments for embezzling orders for the payment of money, of Julius Augustus Farwig, and another.— Two Years' Imprisonment. — [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Monday, December 16th 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
KETURAH HORNER . I live at 1, Gardner Row Cottage, Knightsbridge, with my aunt, who keeps a greengrocer's shop—on Thursday, the 14th November, the prisoner and another man came in together—the prisoner asked for a halfpennyworth of onions—I served him, and he gave me a halfpenny—they then left together—the prisoner came in again soon after and asked for another halfpennyworth of onions and paid me with a shilling—I gave him the change—I kept that shilling in my hand—soon after he left the other man came in and asked for another halfpennyworth of onions, and also paid me with a shilling—I found that to be a bad one—I then had one shilling in one hand and one in the other—I gave them both to my aunt—I did not give the man the change—he left the onions on the table and went away.
Prisoner. Q. Did you think the shilling was bad? A. No; I went round the counter to serve the other young man—I did not put the shilling in the till.
LAVINIA SIMS . On 14th November I was sitting in the back parlour and saw the prisoner come into the shop, and I saw him served with some onions—I afterwards received two shillings from my niece, and I afterwards gave them to the policeman—the prisoner came back afterward and begged my pardon, and begged me to withdraw the case—he brought the change back—he said he did not know it was a bad shilling—I had a policeman with me at that time.
Prisoner. Q. Have not I been in your shop before? A. Yes; I have never known anything against you.
ELIZABETH UNSWORTH . I am the wife of John Unsworth, and live at College Place, Chelsea—I keep a newspaper shop—the prisoner came there on the 19th November, and asked for Bow Bells, which was 1d., and he paid me with a shilling—I gave him his change, and he went out—after that I looked at the shilling, and found it was bad, and I threw it into the fire—I did not notice whether it melted—on 15th November I was called into the shop by my niece, and found the prisoner alone—my niece handed me a bad shilling—I asked him if he had got a penny, and he said, "Yes"—I then said, "I shall hold the shilling, and lock you up"—he ran away, and was brought back by a policeman—I am quite sure he is the lad.
Prisoner. Q. Did you not hesitate in swearing to me? A. No; I never said I knew you by your jacket or your hat—I did not say that before the Magistrate.
MARY' ANN ORMESTER . I am the niece of the last witness—I was serving in her shop on tthe 15th—the prisoner came in and asked for a pennyworth of cough drops—I served him, and he paid with a shilling—I called my aunt to give change, she took the shilling, and said it was bad—I am quite sure he is the lad.
Prisoner. Q. Have you not known my father? A. Yes; for ten or
twelve years—I can't say that I know nothing wrong of you, it is only from what I hear.
MOSES GAMMON (Policeman 252 B). On the 15th I met the prisoner in Francis Street, running—I stopped him because there were other persons running after him—I took him to Mrs. Unsworth's shop, and she gave him in charge for uttering a counterfeit shilling—I took him to the station.
Prisoner. Q. Did she not hesitate in swearing to me? A. No—she said directly that you were the lad.
Prisoner's Defence. I am entirely innocent. The shillings were given me by the other man.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
BINSTED WEBB (Policeman 112 C). On Wednesday, 13th November, I saw the prisoners in Carnaby Street, Regent Street, in company—I followed them, and saw James Smith go into the Shakspere Tavern, Great Marlborough Street—Anne Smith stopped in Tyler Street.
COURT. Q. Did you know them? A. No—the woman says that she is the wife of the man, but there is no certificate, and they gave different addresses—I have ascertained that they do not live together.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Did you look through the Shakspere Tavern door? A. Yes, and saw an altercation between the barmaid and James Smith—I waited, he came out, went down Great Marlborough Street, and through several streets into Tyler Street, where he joined Anne Smith, and they went into Marshall Street, where he left her and went into the Craven Arms—she stood on the opposite side—I went into the other bar, and heard James Smith ask the landlord to give him a half-crown for some smaller coins, which was done, and he came out and joined the woman—they went into Oxford Street together, where the woman gave him something—they went into Great Portland Street, where I saw him rubbing something bright—he then went into the Blue Posts public-house, called for some rum, and tendered this bad half-crown (produced)—I made a signal, and they broke a piece out of it—he said that he got it at Charing Cross Railway Station and would take it back—the landlady was about to give it to him, but I made a signal to her and she detained it—he then went out and joined the woman—they went into Oxford Street, and separated at the corner of Argyle Street—the woman then went away for half an hour, but rejoined him at the spot where she left him and gave him something from her pocket—I followed them along Oxford Street towards Tottenham Court Road, and saw him go into the Queen's Arms—I went in, and on searching the till a bad half-crown was found—I took both prisoners at the corner of Newman Street—the man struggled and I threw him down; as he fell he dropped this half-crown (produced)—I picked it up and said, "This is a bad one"—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I called to a gentleman to detain Anne Smith, and he did so—she said, "For God's sake do not hurt me, I know nothing about it"—a purse was
picked up at her feet by a little girl—it contained a bad half-crown wrapped in thin paper to prevent it rubbing—I found a good half-crown on the man.
Anne Smith. Q. Did not I give you my right direction? A. Yes. Elizabeth Clisodd. I am barmaid at the Shakspere—on 30th November the male prisoner came in for three halfpennyworth of run and gave me a half-crown—I returned it to him. and told him it was bad—he said that he knew where he took it and would take it back—he gave me a good one.
Anne Smith's Defence. My husband was not living with me, and I did not know how he was getting his living. He came to me and said that he had had two days' work, and if I would go with him he would give me a few shillings, and I went. I live with my daughter, who is here.
ANNE SMITH— NOT GUILTY .
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRANNAN . I have been in the employ of the Mint authorities twenty-seven, years—from information I received I went on 30th November to 1, Bloomsbury Court, Holborn, accompanied by inspectors Brannan, Garfort, Fife, and other officers—we waited till the street-door was open, and then went up to the third floor, which consists of one room—the door was forced open with a sledge-hammer by Inspector Brannan—we did not knock first—when we got in Vine was sitting at a table near the fire in his shirt sleeves with a florin let into a stick in his hand, and he was filing it—there was a clear bright fire—the filing is to take the loose edge of the coin—Sweet was sitting at another table under the window with a bad florin or half-crown in her hand, paring the loose edges with a pair of scissors—on our entering, Vine threw down the stick and the florin and the file, took up an open knife and made a thrust at Inspector Brannan—I had a stick in my hand, and pushed bim back with great force on to a bed, or he would have thrust the knife into his body—Sweet had some coin in her lap—she stood up and threw it down—122 florins, 20 half-crowns, and 164 shillings were found near where she stood, also some imitation gold napoleons, and thirteen half-france—a saucepan was on the fire containing 10lbs. of metal in a state of fusion—I said to Vine, "Well, Jack, I need not tell you who I am; we came here with a search warrant signed by the Magistrate at Bow Street—he said, "All right, Mr. Brannan, I will acknowledge to it all; she only came here last night for the first time," alluding to Sweet—I knew that to be incorrect—I found a galvanic battery on a bench, and some sulphate of copper, zinc acid, plaster of Paris, and an iron spoon, which are all things used in coining—Inspector Garforth handed me nine double moulds, some of them charged with hot metal; they are for making half-crowns and shillings—here is an article to perfect the
edge where the get is poured in—I also found some pattern pieces and two counterfeit sovereigns, and thirteen counterfeit half-sovereigns—Ackrill found some good money, and Garforth handed me this box containing silver coins, which I have no doubt are all pattern pieces but one—the room was eighteen feet by fifteen, and it was not possible for Vine to have carried this on without Sweet seeing it.
SARAH MAYBIN . I keep a lodging-house at I, Bloomsbury Court—Vine has occupied my third floor for two years, and Sweet has been in the habit of coming there for three months every day and remained all day—I cannot say whether she stayed at night.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . I am inspector of coin to the Mint—I have examined the things produced; here is everything necessary for coining on a very large scale—here is a sovereign mould and two counterfeit sovereigns from it; a twenty franc mould and two coins from it; a double sovereign mould and thirteen coins from it; a half-crown mould and twenty coins from it; a florin mould and 122 coins from it; a double shilling mould and 162 coins made from it—among the good money are the patterns which were used for making those moulds—they are very highly finished and very well done—the milling where the surplus metal comes off the get is better than I have ever seen—one of the moulds represents the obverse side of a half-crown.
Sweet's Defence. I have been backward and forward but did not know what he did; I thought he was a tailor.
SWEET— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH SELENA BRINKMAN . I live with my father, a greengrocer in Grove Road, Stepney—on 8th November the prisoner came in for one pound of pears, and gave me a half-crown—I showed it to my father, who gave it back to me—I bit the edge off and went after the prisoner, to whom I had given the change—I found her not a quarter of a mile off, and said, "Excuse me, you have given me a bad half-crown"—she took it into her hand and said, "Oh! have I," and returned the pears and the change and went on with the half-crown—my father followed me out.
PHILIP WARD (Policeman). The prisoner was pointed out to me—I followed her and asked her if she had any bad money about her—she did not speak—I said that if she had she had better deliver them up—Brinkman came up and I then asked the prisoner for the half-crown—she took it out of her mouth and gave it to me—it has a piece bitten out of it (produced)—I asked her for her purse; she gave it to me, and I found a good half-sovereign in it—she was taken to the police-court the same day and discharged.
IABELLA HOUGH . My husband keeps the Fortune of War, Giltspur Street—on 1st November I served the prisoner with a glass of porter; she put down a florin—I broke a piece off it, and asked her if she had any mere—she said no, and that she got it from a gentleman on London Bridge—I gave her in custody—I had given her her change out of the till.
Prisoner. You put it into the till. Witness. I did not; it never went out of my hand.
NOT GUILTY .
66. GEORGE LOVELOCK (22) PLEADED GUILTY to three indictments for feloniously forging and uttering receipts for the delivery of goods; also to two indictments for stealing 1l. 14s., 1l. 18s. 6d., 1d., 19s. 1l. 14s. 6d., and 2l. 16s. of Charles Layton and another, his masters, who recommended him to mercy. Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT PITT . (Policeman 171 E). On the morning of 4th December about a quarter to one o'clock, I was in Bury Street, Bloomsbury, with 84 E, who is not here, not being bound over—I saw a scuffle in a street opposite Market Street, I went up, heard a woman cry oat, and saw Warren pushing Lambert against some shutters—Warren said, "This man has robbed that man," the prosecutor, who got up from the street, walked a short distance and sat down—he was bleeding from the nose, and had no hat—Lambert said, "I have not robbed the man, but your woman has; she has the money in her hand—Lambert said, "Yes, I have the money in my hand, and I will give it to you; constable"—previous to that I saw a taller woman run away from the same group, but I was not within ten yards of her—we took Warren and Lambert to the station—I held Lambert's hand all the way with the money in it—Lambert was charged, and Warren signed the charge-sheet as a witness against her—Mary Ann Warren then came into the station to inquire if her brother was locked up, and Lambert said directly, "That is the woman who robbed the man, and I catched the money away from her hand"—she said, "It is very hard you are going to let the man go, he is the man who knocked the man down"—Mary Ann Warren said that it was no such thing—I saw Warren holding Lambert, and he told me it was because she had robbed the man—the two Warrens were put in the dock and gave their address, 43, Devonshire Street, the top room back—I went there and found this hat (produced) on the bed; I showed it to Mr. Woodward next morning—I found 9s. 6d. copper on William Warred—Lambert gave me 4s. 3d. out of her hand—the prosecutor was also taken to the station and locked up, being drunk and incapable.
HENRY WOODWARD . I live at 7, Chenies Street, Tottenham Court Road—on the night of 3rd December I had a box of jewellery in my pocket which I found there next morning, and I believe I had a half a sovereign and four or five shillings—I do not remember getting into Bury Street, Bloomsbury—I had no money in my pocket next morning—this is my hat—I have never seen the prisoners before—when I came to my senses I found myself in the police-station.
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
ALFRED COLE . I am twelve years old, and am employed at Messrs. Warner's, brass founders, of Jewin Street—the prisoner was in their service about a month before this—I saw him in Jewin Street on Monday, and he asked me if Mr. Fleming was in his box—he is the timekeeper—I said, "No, I think he has gone to tea," but at that time I saw him coming down the Crescent towards the house—the prisoner saw him and said, "Go away, and do not let Mr. Fleming see me"—I went on an errand, and when I came back I saw the prisoner at the corner of the Crescent; he said, "Do you know the copper wire cellar?" I said, "Yes; he said, "If you can get me the key of the copper wire cellar I will give you a shilling, and will return the key with the shilling to you in the morning—he did not say why he wanted it, but he said that he would lock himself in the cellar to have a chance to get his things out—he said that he would wait for the key in the public-house next door—I ran away to my masters' and left him without making any answer—I said something to Mr. Edmunds, who minds the front shop; he spoke to Mr. Fleming, who spoke to Mr. Compton Warner, who told me where the key was, and I got it, and took it next door, but the prisoner was not there; I saw him a little way off at the bottom of the Crescent, and went and gave him the key, and he took it away.
Cross-examined. Q. Did a policeman come up when he was going to put it in his pocket, and did he give it to the policeman? A. Yes—he did not say that he had got his clothes in the cellar, nor did I ask him what he had there—Mr. Warner told me that I might take the key, and I took it.
ROBERT OUTRAM (City Policeman). I saw Coles go out with the key and go into the Bull's Head, he came out, went to the bottom of the Crescent, where the prisoner was looking round the corner—they both went round the corner—I went round the Crescent into Jewin Street—I went up to the prisoner, told him I was a policeman and should take him for inciting the boy to steal a key—he said, "I do not want the key"—I put my hand in his pocket to feel for the key and heard something drop, I found it at his feet—I searched him at the station and found a latch-key, a halfpenny, and some treacle.
COMPTON WARNER . I am manager to John Warner and Sons, brass-founders—the prisoner was in our employ up to within a month of this affair—on 18th November I gave the timekeeper permission to allow the boy to take the key of the copper wire cellar out—any person can go to that cellar without passing the timekeeper—there was a large quantity of copper wire in the cellar at this time, but nothing belonging to the prisoner—the boy had no authority to remove the key without my permission; it is my property.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner your apprentice? A. He had been our apprentice under agreement, not under indenture—the cellar was not searched—he had no right to leave two aprons and a waistcoat there when he left—I will not undertake to swear that they were not there, but they were not found.
MR. LEWIS. Q. In the ordinary course of things would the aprons of apprentices be found in the cellar? A. No; he had left us a month, and had never mode any claim on us for any aprons.
The COURT, after consulting MR. RECORDER, considered that there was no case for the Jury, as no offence had been committed, the taking of the key being a mere trespass to the larceny of the wire. NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 17th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution, and MR. PATER the Defence.
JAMES HOWARD . I am a beer retailer, and live at 54, Old Nicholl Street, Shoreditch—I have a son who goes by the name of Thomas Burton—he is now a prisoner undergoing sentence—on Friday evening, 8th November, about twenty minutes to seven, the prisoner came to my house—I did not know him before—he sat down and said he had come from my son, and asked me for five half-sovereigns, that they were to be tied up in thread, so that they should not rattle when he gave them to him—he said it would be a benefit to my son—he told me he was a warder in the prison where my son was—he did not give me any paper on that occasion—I told him I had no money—I gave him a half-sovereign on that night, and told him if he came on the Sunday I would try and get him the other 2l. up—when he was going he asked me to go outside and look about to see that there were no police about, that they should not see him come out of the house—I did so, and told him there was nobody about, and he went out and went up the street, taking the half-sovereign with him—he came again on Sunday evening the 10th for the remainder of the money—I told him I had no more money that night, but if he came on the Monday night I would give it him—I asked him if he gave my son anything out of the money I had given him, and he said he had got him a little wine, and something to sleep him at night—he said he would give him something to drink on the Sunday night—he did not say what—he told me the same as he did on the Friday, to go and look if there was anybody about—I did so, and he left—he came again on the Monday night and asked if I was ready with the remainder of the money—I said, "Yes, my wife has got it," and she gave him 1l. in gold and 1l. in silver—I asked him how long the money would last, and he said it would last my son three months—he had a glass of ale and left—I went out as usual to see that there was no police about—he bade me good-bye and said he would send me a letter—on the afternoon of the 18th November from what I heard I went to the House of Correction—I was there shown a number of the prison warders—I picked the prisoner out, and afterwards gave him into custody for stealing the 2l. 10s., by order of the governor of the place; he wished me to give him in charge, and I did so—when he came on the Monday night he brought me a slip of paper from my son—I read a little of it—I think it was my son's writing, but it was written in black-lead pencil, and I could not tell his writing in pencil so well as with a pen—I destroyed that paper; in fact, we destroyed them all, because we were frightened to have them in the place—I am sure it is destroyed—I have looked for it—I have not seen it since that night—he gave it me from his pocket—it was not sealed up—it was put on the table.
Cross-examined. Q. When was that slip of paper brought? A. On Monday the 11th, when the 2l. was given—there was no slip of paper given to me on the first occasion; I am certain of that—there was a gentleman there on the 8th; I don't know his name—he came in for a glass of ale, and went out again—I don't know whether my wife saw me give the prisoner the money—I did not notice any one present besides our two
selves when that took place—I know a man they call Redfaced Sam—that was the gentleman that came in for the ale—I don't know where he is—I had seen him before that night, not often—I don't know what he is—he may be a ratcatcher for what I know—I call everybody a gentleman that calls for a glass of ale and pays for it—Redfaced Sam was in the parlour that night—I did not borrow the 10s. from him—I did not see him in conversation with the prisoner—I don't know what they might have said to each other while I was serving customers in the tap-room—I was in and out four or five times—I only know of one slip of paper being brought by the prisoner—I am certain that he spoke about the money being packed up in thread—of course I stated that before the Magistrate (the witness's depositions, being read, did not contain that statement)—I am certain the prisoner told me so—there was nobody present on the Monday when the prisoner had the money from my wife—Redfaced Sam was not there on that occasion—I know a man called Gutta Percha; he was not present on the Monday—I am not a very good scholar—I don't know who read the slip of paper—I don't know that the first was read at all—I know the two pieces were read—I received it, and chocked it on the table—my wife was in the bar at the time—this took place in the parlour.
MARY HOWARD . I am the wife of the last witness—on Friday, 8th November, I saw the prisoner at our house—I gave my husband change of a sovereign, and he took a half-sovereign into the parlour to the prisoner—I saw the prisoner again on the Sunday, and afterwards on the Monday, when I gave him 2l.—he said he was going to do good for my son, to give him a little that he wanted—I saw some bits of paper, but I don't know what was on them, for I cannot read—I saw a piece of paper on the first day the prisoner called, on the Friday—I did not read it.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you present when he called on that occasion? A. Me and my husband—I don't know whether Redfaced Sam was there—I can't say who was in the parlour—I know the paper was burnt; it was looked at first—I don't know who looked at it—it was between seven and eight in the evening—the prisoner first came into the bar, and we asked him into the parlour—no one was there when be came in—I can't say who came in afterwards—I am not sure that Redfaced Sam was there at all—I did not see him—the paper was put on one side—a person might have taken it up to light a pipe with—I don't know what became of it—I think it was burnt—I saw Redfaced Sam there one night during the week—I don't know what night it was—I did not see him in conversation with the prisoner—he was not present when the money was given, that I am sure of—he had nothing to do with the 10s.—the prisoner did not bring any slip of paper on the Sunday nor on the Monday that I saw—I saw him when he came on Sunday—he asked me for the 2l.—I said I had not got it at present, but if he called on Monday I would have it ready for him—when he came on the Monday he walked into the parlour—he did not wish to be seen—the money was to be laid out for eatables as I understood, and it was to last three months.
THOMAS BURTON (a prisoner). I am the son of James Howard—I was convicted at the Middlesex Sessions on the 5th November—after my sentence I was taken to the House of Correction—the prisoner was an officer there, doing duty—he had charge of that part of the prison where I was at work—he spoke to me on one occasion—he wrote me a piece of paper—I tore it up after reading it—the writing on it was, "Is your name Burton,
and are you the man that was tried at the Sessions for the Great Eastern affair?"—I went to the closet to read it—I could not read it on the wheel—he was not present when I read it—I afterwards saw him and nodded to him—the paper further stated, "I am square"—that was at the end of the paper—he gave me a piece of paper and a pencil, and I wrote on it a request to my father to give the prisoner two sovereigns for me—it was before dinner that he gave me the paper and pencil, and after coming from dinner I gave it to him (notice to produce this paper was proved)—I wrote on the paper for him to give it to my father, giving the address 54, Old Nicholl Street, Bethnal Green, and to receive the two sovereigns—I did not state on the paper what was to be done with the two sovereigns, but it was understood that it was to purchase me something to eat—this was two or three days after my admission—I saw the prisoner on the following morning, and asked if he had been to my father—this was as we were walking—I asked if he had received any money—he said no, he had not—I spoke to him frequently after that—I wrote again to my father to the same effect, bat more positively—the prisoner gave me some paper—I think that was on the Saturday—I afterwards asked him if he had received any money—he said no; there was no one at home but my mother, that there was a fight on, and all the people were away; that he had seen my mether, and that he had to go down again to receive the money on Tuesday week—that was on the Monday—that would be the Tuesday after my father made the report at the prison—the prisoner never told me that he had received 10s. or 2l.—he stated positively that he had received none—there was nothing said about what was to be done with the money when he got it—but he knew and I knew—it was understood that it was to purchase something to eat, as I was very hungry at the time, and every man in my position is the same.
Cross-examined. Q. He did purchase something for you, did he not? A. He brought me in a small piece of pudding and a small piece of bread-and-butter, that was before he had gone to get the money—it was on the Thursday or Friday—I did not have bread-and-butter more than once—I declare positively that I only received a slice of bread-and-butter once—I cannot exactly say whether it was on the Monday or Tuesday morning that he said he was to go down on the Tuesday following—I stated in my deposition that I never spoke to him, but I made signs to him—I spoke to him after I had written the note—I asked him if he had received the money—I both spoke to him and made signs—my deposition was read over to me before I signed it—after I had written the note and he had taken it to my father, of course I had no occasion to speak to him—I made signs, as it was agreed to get something to eat—he noticed the signs and put up his shoulders as much as to say he had not got it—the prisoner was occasionally on duty after the 9th—the bread-and-butter and pudding was not handed to me by him—he did not tell me to take it out of his pocket; that was understood, to prevent any one seeing me take it—the paper I gave to him was on the 8th or 9th, as far as I can remember—it was after I gave him the paper that I received the pudding and bread-and-butter, because I stated in the paper to bring me some pudding—I think it was the next morning—the chief warder of the prison came up to my cell, and spoke to me about this matter first, and I was brought before the governor—the chief warder spoke to me on the Monday night that my father came to the prison and made the report—that was not in the presence of the goyernor—I was called in before Mr. Alien—they asked me questions—it was
against my will to reveal it—this prosecution has not taken place with my consent.
GEORGE HOARE . I am chief warder at the House of Correction at Coldbath Fields—I was present when James Howard identified the prisoner on the 18th November—he was a sub-warder in the House of Correction—I asked him if he knew the person who had just recognized him, meaning Howard—he said, "No"—I said, "Well, he recognises you as having received 505. from him"—he hesitated for a little while, and then admitted that he had received, not 50s., but 40s. from him, and 10s. from another person—I then took him before the governor, and told the governor in his presence that he had been recognised by Howard, and that he had admitted the fact—the governor asked him if he had the money—he said, "No; that he had paid his club, and he paid 5s. to an officer who he had borrowed money of; and that he was very sorry it had occurred—he was afterwards given into custody.
Cross-examined. Q. This prosecution is contrary to the wish of the governor? A. Not that I am aware of—Captain Colville is the governor—I never heard him say that the prisoner having been dismissed for a breach of the prison regulations was sufficient punishment for him—the question he put to the prisoner was not "What have you been doing with your money;" he asked him if he had redeived this money, and he acknowledged it; if he had received 50s. I think it was—I cannot say positively whether he said this money—I did not take a note of the conversation—the prisoner has not been discharged by the governor that I know of—he did not tell me that he was to leave the prison, that his services were no longer required—the prisoner stated that he had paid a doctor's bill—the warders in the gaol are attended by the surgeon free, but in all probability he referred to some private bill—the governor did not tell me to make a memorandum of the conversation—I think that I have related everything that took place—no one was present but the governor and myself—the governor said, "I must suspend you; you will be required to come before the visiting justices on Friday next"—I did not say just now that he was not suspended—I said he was not discharged—he was not suspended, because he was subsequently given into custody—that was not my doing—after the governor had said that to him, he went into the warder's lodge—the prosecutor gave him into custody, not me—I told the prosecutor he might do as he liked, we had nothing to do with the case; and he gave him into custody.
MR. POLAND. Q. Was James Howard at the prison? A. Yes, and he gave the prisoner into custody—the matter was afterwards reported to the visiting justices, and Mr. Allen, the county solicitor, attended at the police-court to conduct the prosecution—I was ordered to attend there to give evidence.
RICHARD FAWELL (Policeman A R 246). I was sent for to fhe House of Correction on the 18th of November, and the prisoner was given into my custody by the deputy governor—Howard was there, and he attended at the station and signed the charge-sheet—on the way to the station the prisoner said, "It is a bad job; I am very sorry; it is no use denying it, I had the money"—he was charged with obtaining 2l. 10s.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
THOMAS PETIFER CHAPMAN . I keep Messrs. Smith's stall at the Cannon Street Station—I am responsible to them for newspapers and books sold there—on the evening of 4th December, about half-past seven, I marked some money to the amount of 33s., which was put in the till—some of the pieces I marked myself—I looked them all over and they were all marked—among the money was nine marked shillings—I left the stall at seven o'clock—the prisoner was left in charge of it—the marked money was not put into the till then—it was put in at twenty-five minutes past eight in the evening—the prisoner was then in charge of the stall—the next morning I examined the till, but not before the prisoner came—I had examined it over night and detected the loss—it was about a quarter past six in the morning when I examined it—the till was in a drawer belonging to the prisoner—the prisoner was there when I examined it, and missed 2s.—I said to him, "Bring out the till"—he brought it out, and I then said, "Count up the money"—he counted it, and I then said, "There is 2s. short—he said, "I know nothing of it, I assure you"—I said, "I know more of it than you suppose," and I then taxed him with stealing the 2s. that was missing—he strongly denied it several times, and begged me to be aware of the gravity of bringing such a charge against him—I said I was aware of the gravity of the charge, and was prepared to go on with it—he then seemed very much confused, and tremblingly put his head on his hand—I then asked him if he was prepared to deny it altogether—he made no answer—I again asked him if he was prepared to admit it at once—he made no answer, and I asked if I should have to expose him in the stall by bringing a policeman to search him—he then seemed very much more anxious and confused—I was just about to leave the stall to call one of my boys to go for a policeman when he said, "I took 2s. last night"—I then called the boy Holmes—I believe he was just on the threshold of the stall when the prisoner admitted his guilt—I said to him, "What have you done with the money?"—he made nojanswer—I then said, "Turn outyour pockets"—he flung down a shilling and a sixpence—Holmes picked them up from the floor, and handed them to me—I looked at the shilling, and recognised it at once as one of those I had marked and placed in the till—I then said to Holmes, "Richards has confessed to me of robbing two shillings out of the till last night, and this is one of the marked shillings; go for a policeman"—the policeman came after a short interval, during which the prisoner implored me to forgive him, and begged me to pity him—I went with him to the station, and charged him there—he again admitted taking the money—I believe he said, "I took the two shillings last night."
Cross-examined. Q. Have you been long in the position you occupy? A. Two years—I have been at'various other situations—the prisoner had been at Cannon Street about four months—he went with me when I was appointed there—before that he was at the Lewisham Station—that was not considered as a promotion—he was merely sent there for a stop gap—I don't know what his salary was at Lewisham, or whether it was increased—I believe he was only there a week—before that I believe he was in the employ of the Brighton Railway Company for some time at London Bridge—I did not mark all that money—a friend of mine marked the rest, Mr. Charles Lamb, of Mincing Lane; but I examined all the coins as they were marked—I am quite sure they were all marked in my presence—it was about half-past nine in the morning—it was done in my friend's office
at Mincing Lane—I came from Mincing Lane and went into the first-class waiting-room—Holmes put the money in the till—I was not present when he put it in—my friend gave him the money—I was not present, but I saw him from the first-class waiting-room window, which is exactly opposite the stall—Holmes was at the stall at the time—it was about twenty-five or thirty yards from the waiting-room—there is the width of the pavement between; nothing intervenes except passengers passing and repassing—I was standing at the wiudow of the waiting-room, and had a full view of the stall—my friend gave the money to Holmes about twenty minutes past eight—I did not go to the stall after that—not till after the prisoner had left for the night—when I was absent he had the sole managemeut of the affairs at the stall—if I was absent at the time he closed he would not have to take possession of the money—he would put it into his drawer into the till—I have known on three separate occasions the prisoner taking sums of gold home with him—I told him when I first went there that if there were large amounts of gold to take it home for safety—he did not take any gold home on the night of the 4th September—I am positive of that—on two separate occasions he has removed silver from the station, when I had the contents of the till counted, and I found on one occasion 3s. deficient, and on another 1s.—I never knew him to take the silver home to take care of it—my usual time for going to the stall in the morning was about nine o'clock—on this morning I went at six—I was there before the prisoner came—it was usual for him to produce the till to me when I came at nine—no contingency could possibly arise for him to have to pay money on account—it was the usual course when I went there in the morning for him to produce the till—I never counted the money—it was produced without my request—on this morning I requested it, and he produced it, and he counted it by my direction—he was going to count it out in one sum, and I asked him to count out the various coin, a list of which I held in my hand—when he came to the shillings there were but seven, and I then told him there were 2s. short—I did not say to him, "Confess that you have taken it, and I will deal leniently with you, and receive a week's notice"—I told him I considered the matter was out of my hands—I said I might have dealt leniently with him—I did not say I would—I did not say I would accept a week's notice, not at any time—the prisoner said at the station that I had promised to forgive him, but I denied it—he also said that he believed I had promised to give him a week's notice—I did not know that he had been very respectable, and was respectably connected—I don't know it now—I have not had any misunderstanding with him—he was appointed by the firm—there are five boys at the Cannon Street stall besides the prisoner and myself.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Had the prisoner any authority to borrow money from the till? A. Not the slightest—when he took away the gold it was by my express directions; he did not take any silver by my direction—I believe he stole it—I was at the stall before he came on this morning—I called him into the stall—I was present when he took the till out—I had been to the till the night previously after the prisoner left, about a quarter-past nine, and examined it and found the two shillings missing.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Was it not an open till without any lock? A. Yes; it was a bowl which he put into his drawer; he had no key to the drawer, but he put it in, and he was the last in the stall.
nothing to me at that time—at the station, when told the charge, he said, "I did take it; you told me if I spoke the truth you would deal leniently with me"—Chapman said, "No; I told you to speak the truth, that it would be best for you"—I searched him, but found nothing but a few keys and a ticket for the South London Music Hall—I received this marked shilling (produced) from Chapman.
T. F. CHAPMAN (re-examined). I identify this as one of the marked shillings—I will not undertake to say whether I or my friend marked this, but I examined all the coins.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecutor, — One Month's Imprisonment.
MR. CUNNINGHAM conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH FELLOWES WHITTINGTON . I am a farmer at Hayes—I had six geese safe in my farmyard on Saturday, 7th December—I missed them in the forenoon of Tuesday—I made known my loss—the witness Milton came to me, and I went and saw three of them dead in his house on the Saturday night—I have not the slightest doubt they were my geese—I should not like to swear to them; but a young man who worked for me can—I have known Stephens from a child; he lives in my neighbourhood—I know nothing of Cotters.
GEORGE GODLIMAN . I was lately in the prosecutor's employment—I was in the habit of seeing his geese-erery day, and three, or four times a day—I afterwards saw three geese at Milton's, and knew them to be the prosecutor's by their plumage—I could swear to them.
FREDERICK MILTON . am a hay-dealer in the parish of Hayes—on Friday, 13th December, the prisoners came to my place—Stephens asked if I was the buyer of a goose—I said at first I was not—I went indoors, and I was given to understand that Mr. Whittington had lost his geese—I thought directly they were his, and I followed the prisoners, overtook them, and asked where the geese were—they said they had not got them in their possession; they were at their lodging at Ball's Bridge—I asked what they would take for a pair of them—they said half a sovereign—I said that was too much—they afterwards said they would take 9s.—I said if they brought them to my shed at eight o'clock I dare say we should not fall out in price—in the meantime I went to Mr. Whittington's house and let him know, and they got the police and got in readiness for the men—they did not come that night; they came at a quarter-past eight next morning, and instead of bringing two they brought three geese—they were dead—they wanted 12s. for the three—I agreed to purchase them—I took them indoors and secured them, and came back to the men—I gave them 3s., and told them I would give them the rest if they would come at half-past six at night, I had got no more change then—in the meantime I let Mr. Whittington and the police know—the prisoners came for the money before the time appointed; I told them to go and wait at a public-house close by and I would be there in an hour—they were then given into custody—I showed the geese to Mr. Whittington and Godliman.
Cotters. Q. Did not I tell you we had found the geese? A. No—you said you had fetched them from Harrow, and you bad been two nights
after them, and if I would purchase some ducks and fowls you would bring me them.
GUILTY .**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
72. WILLIAM HERBERT DE CARLL (24) PLEADED GUILTY to two indictments for stealing books of Henry George Bohn, his master, also to stealing 15l. of William Herbert Dannett, and also to forging and uttering an order for the payment of 19s. 6d.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
73. EDWARD SWAIN (17), GEORGE SIMMONDS (23), and THOMAS EDWARDS (20) , to a riot and assault. To enter into their own recognisances in the sum of 10l. to appear and receive judgment if called upon. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, December 17th, 1867.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. SLEIGH and STRAIGHT the Defence.
JOHN CROSS . I live at Manchester Street, King's Cross, and am traveller to the Dairy Farms Association—on 7th October the prisoner called on me at the warehouse in Grenville Mews, Guildford Street, and asked to see some eggs—I showed him some, and he said that he had dealt very largely with Peacock's, the egg merchants, and had got a great many bad eggs, and was going to give us a trial; he selected a case of eggs, which he asked to be delivered early that morning, and they were to be paid cash for—I took them to 36, Charles Street, Hatton Garden, but Mr. Gould was not at home—I saw a man, who I believe is John Day—he told me to leave them and call as I returned for the money, which I did, and found the eggs turned out and partly sold—he told me to call the next day—I went again on 15th October and saw the prisoner, who told me again that he had been dealing largely with Peacock's, and had several shops and a farm at Barking; that he wanted good eggs, and did not mind the price he paid—I concluded that I had a very good customer—he said that his custom was to pay once a month and to give cheques, and I consented to let him run the month, on the faith that he was the man he represented himself to be—I left him then 600 eggs, value 2l. 18s. 6d.—on Saturday, October 19th, he had another case at 2l. 18s. 6d., another on the 22nd, another on the 25th, and another on the 29th, value altogether 27l. 7s. 6d.—I was induced to let him have the goods because he told me he had several shops in London, and was a farmer at Barking, and had several cows—my master was away in France at the time—on 1st November I went for a cheque, but did not see Mr. Gould—I called several times, but was never able to see him, and never got a cheque for the goods—I did not see the prisoner till he was at Bow Street—I did not give him in custody—if he had given his right name, Bristow, he would never have had the things, because I have heard of the name of Bristow.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Did you go to Barking? A. No; I entered the sales in my books, and allowed him to have credit to the first of the month—I did not ask him for any reference.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Would you have parted with all those goods if you had not believed him to be a farmer in Essex? A. No; his brother tried to get goods from me.
WILLIAM VAUGHAN (Policeman). I have been on duty at Barking, in Essex, for seventeen years—I do not know the prisoner there having a farm and keeping 200 cows—I do not think he could have been so without my knowing it—I never saw him before he was in custody.
Cross-examined by MR. SLEIGH. Q. Do you know Surrey Street, Barking? A. No; there is no such a street in Barking—I know Surrey Street, West Ham, which adjoins Barking—that is not in my district, it is three miles from where I do duty—I have not brought any one here from Surrey Street, West Ham.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Do you know anythiug about Surrey Street, West Ham? A. I know the street—I never saw or heard of the prisoner there.
JAMES BRENNAN (Police Inspector F). On 11th November, about a quarter to twelve at night, the prisoner was brought to Bow Street Station by 175 F—I told him I had a warrant against him for obtaining goods by false pretences from Mr. Phipps; he said that I had better execute it—I searched him and found these invoices (produced)—they relate to the eggs.
NOT GUILTY (See New Court, Thursday).
76. WILLIAM SECKER (33) PLEADED GUILTY to embezzling the sums of 1l., 4l. 10s., and 2l. 7s. 6d., also 1l. 16s., 2l. 14s. 3d., and 1l. 0s. 6d. of Nicholas Trubner, his master.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
77. FREDERICK BRAND (16) , to feloniously forging and uttering a request for the delivery of goods, with intent to defraud Richard Hellaby and another. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Judgment respited.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
JOSIAH SHERWOOD . I am a butler out of a situation—on the night of 18th November I met the prisoners in the Queen and Prince Albert public-house, Knightsbridge, and treated them to some drink—I said that my way lay across the Park, and we went together, and a third man, who was in their company—after we passed the Serpentine, and were 100 or 200 yards from the Marble Arch, one of them put his haud behind me, and his hand on my mouth, and threw me back, another one held my feet, and the other took my watch and chain, worth 25l.—they then let go of me, and ran towards the Edgeware Road—this is my watch and chain (produced)—there was also a broken seal, and the stone was out—there was a mistake in engraving the watch—here is a J on one side, and a G on the other.
Turner. Q. Were you not arm-in-arm with us. A. No—I did not want you to go home with me—I did not say, "Come home, and I will give you some supper"—I did not take liberties with you, and when you objected take out my watch, and say, "Take that watch, do not show me up; bring me that watch to-morrow night, and I will give you 1l."
COURT. Q. Is there any ground for that charge? A. Certainly not.
Rogers. He said he lived at Lancaster Gate; he took hold of me—I asked him what it was for, he said he was going to have connection with both of us; we said we would have nim locked up; he said, "I have got 50l. a year coming to me, take my watch, and bring it to me to-morrow night between nine and ten, and I will pay you."
MR. DALY. Q. Did you see the prisoner at the station? A. Yes—I have not the slightest doubt about them.
JOHM DIMSDALE . I am a friend of the landlord of the Queen and Prince Albert, Park Place, Knightsbridge—on 18th November I saw the prisoners there with another party, who has not been identified—I saw Sherwood give them some beer two or three times—they left the house together.
Turner. Q. Did not the prosecutor complain of being turned out of the concert-room? A. There was some complaint, but he was not turned out; I cautioned him against your company.
ROBERT D. GEORGE . I am assistant to Mr. Richards, of 266, Westminster Bridge Road, pawnbroker—on the morning of 19th November Rogers brought this watch and chain and asked how much I would lend on it—I asked how much he wanted—he asked 4l.—I looked at it, and seeing its value, asked him where he got it—he said that it was given him by Admiral Beaton—I asked him to account for the initials on it, which he could not do, and I gave him in charge—he called Turner in first, who said that he wanted the money to enable him to go to his sister's funeral.
THOMAS GASSLAND (Policeman 135 L). I took both prisoners to the station, and told them the charge—Rogers said that the watch was given him by Admiral Beaton—Turner said that it had nothing to do with him.
ROGERS GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment, and thirty-nine lashes.
TURNER GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted at Westminster in September, 1860, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Ten Years' Penal Servitude, and thirty-nine lashes.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH HARDY . I am an apothecary, of 2, Blackthorne Street, Bromley—between the 29th and 30th November, between twelve and one o'clock, I met the female prisoner in the street, and went with her to a house in Bell Court, Holborn—I had had a little drink, but I had my senses—I stopped with her ten minutes, and shortly afterwards the male prisoner came in like a tiger, caught mo by the shoulders, turned me to the wall, and held my hands behind me, while the female prisoner rifled my pockets with one hand, and held the other over my mouth—she took two sovereigus and 1l. in silver from my breast-pocket—I also lost a chain, but do not know which of them took it, it was safe when I went there—I also lost my hat—I left the house, but afterwards went back—there was a kind of padlock on the door—I broke it open, took possession of the room, and remained there all night—between five and six in the morning there was a knock at the door, and it was the female prisoner—she knocked several times, but I did not open it—I then heard the male prisoner saying that if I did not open it he would open the back window—I heard the window rising, so I opened the door, and said, "You have robbed me of my money and my hat"—he said, "I have not, you are quite mistaken"—I said, "You have,
and I have no hat"—he gave me this cap (produced) to go home with, and told me I had better get away—we went out—he said, "I want to take a drink, you had better come with me"—I said, "No, I have no money"—he ran away and got into the room where the female was—I got a police-man, took him to the house, and charged them with assault and robbery.
Edwin Osborne. Q. Did you own to me in the morning that you had been to two women overnight? A. No—I did not ask the female prisoner to make me a cup of coffee, but you gave me a penny to get one.
EDWARD BAILEY (Policeman 188 G). I met Hardy about seven in the morning—he took me to 8, Bell Court—the prisoners were both in bed—the female prisoner opened the door—I told her the charge, they both denied it—I told them to dress themselves—I found a half-crown, a shilling, and twopence on the male prisoner—he said that he had only 1s. 6d.—the female was searched at the station—Hardy was perfectly sober.
NOT GUILTY .
81. ALFRED CATTERMOLE (18) , Robbery, with two persons unknown, on Edwin Thomas Carey, and stealing from his person a watch, a pin, a purse, and 3l. in money, his property, upon which MR. STRAIGHT for the Prosecution offered no evidence. NOT GUILTY .
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
CHRISTIAN NORWOOD . I am a seaman, and live at a boarding house in St. George's Street—on 15th December, about eleven o'clock, I went into a fish shop in Ship Alley, and had twepennyworth of fish and some potatoes—the prisoner was serving—I gave her a sovereign—she said, "I will go and get you some change"—she went out with the sovereign, and I did not see her afterwards—a man afterwards came in—the prisoner said at the station that I had given her a shilling—I am quite sure it was a sovereign.
Prisoner. I have a witness to prove that it was a shilling, and you did not give it to me. Witness. I put the sovereign down and you took it up—there was one other woman there—this was not at half-past eight, but at eleven.
EDWIN NELSON (Policeman 200 H). On 16th December, about nine in the morning, I was sent for, and went to the shop—the prisoner came down, and said, "What do you want?"—I said, "The young man with me wants the change for a sovereign, which he gave you last night for fish and potatoes"—she said, "It was not a sovereign, it was a shilling—he had twopenny worth of fish, twopenny worth of potatoes, and a pot of ale, which came to a shilling"—I said, "You will go to the station"—she said, "All right, I will go."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate:—"I did not have the sovereign."
The Prisoner called
Cross-examined by MR. DALY. Q. Are you any relation of the prisoner? A. Her sister—it is not true that she left to get change—she had the shilling, and then went out to fetch her husband, because his uncle was very ill—she did not come back before Norwood left.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, December 18th, 1867.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
83. WILLIAM EDGELL (19) and RICHARD SMITH (24) were indicted for feloniously setting fire to a house of John Wilcock Jacob, with intent to defraud. Other counts varying the manner of stating the charge.
MESSRS. SLEIGHT, F. H. LEWIS, and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; MR. WILLIAMS defended Edgell, and MR. LILLEY Smith.
JOHN ROANLDSON LYALL . I am clerk at the police-court, Marylebone—a charge of arson was preferred there against the prisoner Edgell on 21st October—on that occasion I think no solicitor appeared for the prosecution—the prisoner Smith tendered himself as a witness in the ordinary course—I have here the statement that he made. (Reads:—"Richard Smith, police-constable 302 S. At half-past ten on Saturday night I met the prisoner in Kentish Town Road—I went with him to the Old Farm House, a public-house—we then went to my house in the Maldon Road, and he stayed with me till half-past eleven—the prisoner had gone about three minutes when I went out into my garden to take a bird in, when I heard someone call 'Stop thief!'—I jumped over the garden wall—the prisoner was on the wall—the first witness said he would charge him with setting fire to a house—from the time I let him out of my front door till I apprehended him three minutes only had elapsed—the prisoner said, 'I did not do it'—his trousers were then unbuttoned when I pulled him off the wall—he said, 'I did not do it'—his less and clothes were in a muddy state. He then went down, and another witness, the constable Martin, stood up again and gave his evidence, and after that Smith stood up again and said he had not completed his evidence; he then went on to say, 'Itook the prisoner in the act of getting over the garden wall—I said to the prisoner, 'Bill, don't be a fool, come to the station and settle it'—the prisoner jumped on to a little mound of clay and twisted his hand out of my hand, and ran away—he fell; at that time the prosecutor came up, and we both had hold of him, and Martin then came up—Martin was coming from Collier's Crescent direction, and the prisoner ran away and took a turn round Wellesley Road—I saw him fall about twenty yards from a chemist's shop—I brought him to the bottom of Queen's Crescent, holding him by the arm till Martin came up—the first witness told Martin lie would give the prisoner in charge for setting fire to a house, but he would not give him into my charge, because I was off duty—I was holding the prisoner then; Martin took hold of him, and told me if I did not let him go he should knock me down, he was his prisoner; I told him he was not, he was mine.")
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. How soon after giving that evidence was he placed in the dock? A. After the remand, on the next examination, I think it was a week afterwards, a summons was issued for him to appear, not as a witness, but to answer the charge—I gave the summons to a constable to serve.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Had an application been previously made to issue a summons returnable forthwith? A. Yes; a solicitor appeared for the prosecution on the second occasion—I believe a solicitor appeared for the prisoner on the first occasion, and also for the two prisoners when Smith was given into custody.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Will you look at this plan (another) and tell me if that correctly describes the different places in the vicinity of the fire? A. This is not correct—I have been into the basement of the witness Howell's house—the distance from there to the fire is forty-seven yards in a direct line—I should decidedly say you could not see the fire from there—it is a half kitchen about four feet below the surface, and then there is a wall.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Between Howell's house and the waste ground does a road run? A. Yes—there is no trench in that road—I saw the place about four days after the fire—there was no open trench in the road—I think they were putting down some pipes, but I could not say.
FREDERICK JONES . I am a tripe-dresser, and live at 143, Queen's Crescent, Haverstock Hill—on the night of the fire at Mr. Jacob's premises, about half-past eleven, I was inside my shop against the counter, looking out—I saw both the prisoners go past my shop—they were coming from the direction of the Dreghorn Castle public-house—I dare say they were about fifty yards from the house when I saw them—Smith was in his shirt-sleeves, and no cap on—Edgell had on a kind of a lightish coat, similar to the one I have on, rather dirty, and a low cap, similar to the way he was dressed when before the Magistrate—I knew Smith before, merely by seeing him go past the shop, and I had seen him in uniform—I don't recollect ever seeing Edgell before—Edgell had an empty quart pot under his right arm—I went out with the intention of taking it away, as I did not like the publican to lose it, but they turned round the wall by the side of Mr. Seeker's, the pawnbroker's—Smith was walking on the left of Edgell, further from me—they stopped at Mr. Seeker's wall, and I returned to my shop—they were at the turning into Wellesley Road.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. I suppose the pawnbroker's shop was not open at that time? A. Yes, it was—I did not see the prisoners come out of the Dreghorn Castle—they came from that direction—they were walking leisurely along—I had an ample opportunity of seeing them—they appeared sober—I am not aware that the ground was open in Wellesley Road—there were pipes there, but I believe there was no trench open—I could not be positive.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Do you remember the day of the month that this happened? A. 16th October, I believe—it was Saturday night, I know—I left the prisoners standing at the pawnbroker's wall, just past his shop—Smith had no coat on; I believe he had a waistcoat—he had no cap—I believe he had on his uniform trousers—I could not be certain whether Edgell, had on a low hat or a cap—there was a good light in my shop.
HENRY SECKER . I am a pawnbroker, of 139, Queen's Crescent, Haverstock Hill—I know Smith—I recollect the Saturday night; I believe it was 19th October—I saw Smith that night between eleven and twelve—I could not say what he had on, no more than he was in his shirt-sleeves—I was at the other end of the shop, he motioned for me to go up and speak to him—I asked what he wanted, and he said, "You will find a pewter pot over in your premises in the morning"—I said, "That is very
cool, but who am I to look to in case there is any damage done?"—he said, "If you will be kind enough to send it to Mr. Hammerstone (that is the landlord of the Dreghorn Castle), it will be all right"—I did not know then that he was a policeman, but after he had gone out of the shop one of the customers told me—I did not look for the pot till Tuesday morning, when my lad found it in my presence—this is it.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. You found it, and duly returned it? A. Yes—the Wellesley Road runs by the side of my house, I don't know whether there was any trenches dug there—I know two pieces of waste ground at the back of my premises—there is a good deal of loose mud scraped up there from the road—at that time it was in a wet and soft state.
EMILY HOWELL . I am the wife of Edwin John Howell, and reside at 1, Wellesley Road—on Saturday night, 19th October, I left my house about a minute or two before half-past eleven—I walked along the Wellesley Road in the direction of Queen's Crescent—there are two pieces of waste ground there—I saw two men standing on one of those pieces, on my right, talking together, whispering, and moving about a little, shifting about—one had on a light overcoat—the other was in shirt-sleeves—I was on the pathway, as I got towards them they came on to the pathway, and I moved into the road to pass them—when I had passed them I turned round to look at them and saw the man in the shirt-sleeves getting over the back wall of the houses that front Maldon Road—he got over about the centre of the wall to the best of my knowledge.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. About how far were you from Mr. Seeker's when you saw the man getting over the wall? A. I had just got on to the pavement by Mr. Seeker's, about two or three yards from one of his doors; there are two or three doors; I mean the door in Wellesley Road—I believe there is a lamp at the opposite corner—that was a long way from where I stood when I looked back—the men appeared to me to be middle-sized men—I don't call Smith a middle-sized man—I should call him tall.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Had the man to stoop at all in getting over the wall? A. I did not notice that—I did not notice whether they were standing upright when I saw them whispering together.
COURT. Q. When you say they were middle-sized men, do you mean they were about the same height? A. They appeared so to me—it was not a foggy night—it was rather dark—I should call Edgell a middle-sized man.
JULIAN HOWELL . I am a gas-fitter, of 144, Maldon Road—on the night of 19th October, about a quarter to twelve, my attention was directed to a fire at the back of my house—I went into the garden—I saw the parlours lit up—I could not see the flames from there—I got over the wall and went direct straight across to the place—in going I saw the prisoner Edgell three times distinctly throw something which I should think was shavings on to two places where there were flames—he was in the parlour—when I got about fifteen yards from the building he looked up and saw me coming, and he ran away between me and the building—I looked into the parlour-window where the fire was, and saw two flames close to a row of uprights where the lath and plaster was going to be, and when I saw that I ran after him—he ran away in the direction of the Queen's Road—
I caught him getting over the wall next door to the house where Smith lives—he passed Smith on the road—he was standing just in a recess in the Wellesley Road—he was in his shirt-sleeves—by a recess, I mean a waste piece of ground at the back of the gardens—I called out, "Stop thief," that was before I got to Smith—Smith said, "Where is the thief?"—Edgell had just run by him, close to him—I said, "I will show you where he is," and I ran by him and caught him on the wall—I had not lost sight of him—at that time Smith was about thirty yards off—in the struggle Edgell got over the wall, but I still held hold of him, so that he was on one side and I on the other—Smith came up—I did not know that he was a constable, I thought as he was coming up I had another one to deal with, but when he came up I said, "I know who you are—I will give this man in charge for setting fire to a house in Wellesley Road"—Smith said, "You must be mistaken, it is a serious charge"—Edgell said, "I did not do it; I have been to supper with you, Smith, haven't I?"—Smith said, "You have"—he said to me, "Let him go, he will come"—I let him go, and he made a dart towards the house—Smith said, "Come here, Bill; don't be a fool"—Edgell upon that came back, and got over the wall—I then said, "You hold him here, Smith, and I will go and fetch a police-man, or else bring him down into Queen's Crescent"—Smith said he could not come down in his shirt-sleeves—he did come—we all three walked slowly together when we got into the Queen's Road—I saw the constable, Martin—I beckoned to him, and Edgell slipped out of my hands again and ran in the direction of the Maldon Road—I ran and caught him again, and Martin ran up behind me, and took him off my hands—I told him I charged him with setting fire to a house in the Wellesley Road—Smith was not holding him at that time—he never held him till Martin had got him, and then Martin and he held him both together—Smith never had him, he ran away twice—he did not twist his hand out of Smith's—after Martin had got him Smith wanted to take him—I observed the room in which the fire was—there was a fire-place, but no grate—I did not see any fire in the fire-place—it is not a fact that at the time I caught Edgell Smith jumped over his own wall, nor that Edgell when running from the wall fell—he did not escape from Smith at all, because Smith never had him.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Where were you, in your house, when you first saw the fire? A. In the kitchen—I did not see anything from the kitchen—I was in the kitchen, and my mother was in a room up stairs, and she came down and drew my attention to it, and I went out at the door into the yard—I saw nothing from the kitchen—I have said that I could not have identified Edgell from seeing him by the light of the fire, if I had lost sight of him; but I never lost sight of him after he left the building—I don't say it was him from what I saw in the garden—from where I stood I could not distinguish the features or swear to the person—when I caught Edgell on the waste ground I did not notice that his trousers were undone, I believe they were not—there is a cutting in the Wellesley Road, where they have made the road lower—the waste ground stands high, and there is a cutting for the road, I should think two or three feet in depth—on the side where Smith was standing it was higher than the other part—I saw some mud on Edgell when he was in the station-house—I have said that if he had any mud on him he might have got it from the trench—he did not get any mud while I was following him—if he got any it must have been when we were walking down the road together,
he was next to the mud then, or in the former part of the evening—I don't think his trousers were covered with mud; there was mud on them—Smith did not throw him down in the mud on taking him into custody—there was mud on his coat when he was in the dock at the police-court—I can't account for how it got there—he never fell while I saw him—the last witness is my sister-in-law.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Is the waste ground very near the back of Smith's house? A. Yes, about thirty yards off; that is the spot where he was standing—I pointed out the spot to the inspector next morning; I never measured the distance—he was about two or three yards from the road, standing still—he did not appear excited; I should think he had not been drinking—I first ascertained he was a policeman when he came up to Edgell; he did not tell me so—I knew him by sight—he came up when I had hold of Edgell—that was after I had called "Stop thief"—it was not then that he asked "Where is the thief?"—that was as I ran by him; he followed behind me—I took hold of Edgell almost directly after I passed Smith, as he was getting over the wall next to Smith's house—he scrambled over the wall after I got hold of him—Smith had never hold of Edgell till Martin came up.
MR. LEWIS. Q. From where you saw Smith on the waste ground, could he see the house in which Edgell was? A. Yes, I should think he could—it was not a very light night—I think it was rather dark, but there was a light at the pawnbroker's shop right opposite, so that it reflected all the way up—I was about fifteen yards from Edgell when he first saw me; I know he saw me, because he turned round in a sloping position and went away.
WILLIAM MARTIN (Policeman 534 S). On the night of 19th October, a few minutes before twelve, I was in the Queen's Crescent—I saw Howell and Edgell standing at the chemist's shop; Howell had hold of Edgell by the collar of his coat; when he came up he said he would give him into custody for setting fire to a house in Wellesley Road—Edgell ran away, I pursued and caught him with Howell—we both had hold of him about the same time—I told him he was charged with setting fire to a house in the Wellesley Road—he said, "I never did it; I have been with Smith all night"—at this time Smith came up, and Edgell addressing him, said "Haven't I been with you all night?" Smith said, "You have." I said, "And not left him the whole of the night? He said "No"—Smith was in his shirt-sleeves; he said, "This is my prisoner, I shall take him"—I refused to allow him to do so, and we had an altercation in the street—Edgell was not buttoning up his trousers when I saw him—when Smith said he should take him Howell said, "No, don't let him take him; he has let him go twice, and don't mean to take him"—Smith said nothing to that; we then went to the station; I searched Edgell and found on him five lucifer matches and this rattle, like a policeman's.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Did Howell say that he had hold of Edgell twice, and he had got away? A. Not exactly that he had him twice, but he had run or gone away twice—there was a good deal of mud on Edgell's coat and trousers—I saw some foot-prints next morning across the road leading from the fire to where Smith was—Edgell said at the court that he had fallen down there; they were only the foot-marks of one person—Wellesley Road is on my beat—there was no open trench along the road to my knowledge—it is a road not made—there was a little trench on one side—I don't think they were making sewers there—I won't say—
there is not much traffic there—a person would not get mud on his coat by merely walking along there—during the next week a person was charged with being on these same premises for an unlawful purpose—I believe the houses are the resort of tramps and persons for a night's lodging—I have found one or two there who had taken up their abode there for the night—a person was charged with it subsequent to this fire.
WILLIAM WARNE (Policeman 19 Y). I was on duty at the Kentish Town station on 19th October—from what I heard I went to the house in which the fire was—I found five places where there had been distinct fires—boards black and burnt where the fires had been extinguished—I went immediately—the same night—some of the boards are here (produced)—one fire was under the staircase, one where the passage was formed, and three on the floor which was formed for the parlours—I saw that some of the boards were burnt—these two long ones—these are not the boards that were nailed to the floor—these were a pile of deals lying where the shavings had been put upon them—no part pf the permanent building of the house was on fire, only blackened—I won't swear the floor was not burnt, but I do not produce any portion of it—I would not swear whether it was or not; it was very black, and it might have been a little burnt.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Did you see Edgell when he was brought in? A. I did—I did not observe that he was very muddy—I searched the house and found five matches or pieces of matches around the fires where they had been lit—I compared those with some found on Edgell—they were various lengths, one of them corresponds.
JOHN WILCOCK JACOB . I am a builder residing at 67, Carlton Road, Kentish Town—it was my unfinished property where the fire took place—I went over the house about nine o'clock next morning—one of the treads of the stairs was burnt where there had been a pile of matches, and also in the corner of the parlour—the side of the stairs was not burnt much—about one-eighth of an inch deep, that was all—the floor was burnt, where the fire was lighted againet the boards that stood in the centre of the room; it was burnt a very little in two different places; that was part of the permanent floor; it was burnt, charred—the buildings were covered in, the floors all laid, and the stairs all up—this was one of a row of eight houses—the partitions were up, and everything ready for the plasterers but the lathing—there were no windows in, only the frames—there were no doors, the doorways were fastened up—I am not quite sure whether the front doors were hung up or not—it was an unfinished eight-roomed dwelling-house.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Had you a lease of it? A. Yes—I saw no part of the building on fire—I heard nothing about it till half-past eight next morning—two places on the floor bad been burnt, charred—I don't mean to say it had blazed to any height, but it was charred, and also the tread of the stairs—the floor must have been on fire, or it could not have been in that state.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. In how many different places were there marks of scorching? A. Six in that house, and one in the next, No. 11; this was No. 12—the houses were a great deal more than carcases—vagrants may have been in the habit of walking in and sleeping there—I never saw any.
COURT. Q. Can you say whether the floor had actually been the subject of ignition? A. It must have been on fire, or it would not have been burnt into the wood; you could scrape off the top of it.
WILLIAM WARNE (re-examined). I recollect when Edgell was brotight to the station; Smith was present—he stepped round to sign the sheet when I had taken the charge—he said it was his charge—on the following Tuesday I was returning from the police commissioners' office with Smith—we were speaking of this fire, and he said he was not treated as he was when he was in another division—I believe the V division over the water—that he there discovered a baker's shop on fire, and received 1l. from the proprietor and a trifle from the inhabitants.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. I believe no reward is given now for discovering a fire, nor was there then? A. There is none now, nor was there in October from the Commissioners—it was the practice years ago—it has been discontinued for some little time.
Andrew Walker was called on his recognisances and did not appear.
JOHN SIMPSON . I am foreman to Mr. Bassett, of Weedington Road, about one hundred yards or rather more from Mr. Jacobs's houses—there was a fire at my master's premises at the latter end of May, some hurdles were set on fire—I was sent for when it began, and as soon as I came there the prisoner Smith was there—I said, "This is a bad job"—he said, "Yes, it is; see how I have scorched my shoes trying to doubt it"—I said, "Somebody must have set it on fire"—a day or two afterwards Mr. Attick came there, and met Smith there, and he said, "I hope you will give me a little something for saving your hurdles," and he gave him some silver—I can't say how much—at the time I first saw Smith there were two or three persons with him—I am not able to say who either of them was.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Was there a brick kiln there? A. Yes, and the hurdles were put up on the bricks—I saw nothing near the hardies that could have caused the fire.
MR. WILLIAMS submitted that there was no case on the first three Counts of the indictment in which the building in question was described as a "house" (24 and 25 Viet. c. 97, Sees. 3,7, and 8), it having been decided that an unfinished building intended for a dwelling-house was not a house within the meaning of the statute.—MR. JUSTICE LUSH was of opinion that the three first Counts could not be sustained.—MR. WILLIAMS further contended that the other three Counts (Sees. 6, 7, and 8) describing the place as a building, were also bad, the statute evidently intending to refer to a complete and not an unfinished building. MR. JUSTICE LUSH said he would consider that question, and if necessary reserve it.
MR. LILLEY to WILLIAM MARTIN. Q. Did the two prisoners appear to have been drinking at the time the charge was made? A. I think they had both been drinking, but they knew well what they were doing.
Both prisoners received good characters. NOT GUILTY .—The Jury expressed a wish that the Commissioners of Police' would take Smith again, so that he should not lose his place.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, December 18th, 1867.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
Street—on 30th November, about 3.30, I went to the White Lion, Fetter Lane, and sat down on a chair in the parlour, about twelve gentlemen being there—the prisoner came in at about 4.15—he shook hands with two gentlemen in the room, and seated himself in a vacant chair next me, but said nothing—I was conversing with a gentleman on my left—we were examining that day's Punch—the prisoner had been seated three or four minutes when the waiter came into the room—one gentleman ordered some grog, and I heard him order some tobacco—as the waiter left the room the prisoner rose from his chair, took his hand from his greatcoat pocket, raised it, and without my having the slightest warning stabbed me with a knife on the left eye-lid—I leant on my left to get out of his way, but it was difficult, as there was a gentleman near me—I received a second blow on the top of my head, and a third was aimed at me, but stopped by Mr. Ransom—I had said nothing to him; I had not seen him for six months—I had seen him five or six times in the same room during two years and a quarter—he has passed the compliments of the day, but he was an utter stranger—nothing unpleasant ever took place between us—I have no personal knowledge of him at all—I do not believe he even knew my name, and can form no idea, why he did this—I lost a quantity of blood and was taken to the hospital.
GEORGE RANSOM . I am a publisher of 10, Red Lion Court, Fleet Street—I was in the White Lion parlour—the prisoner came in and shook hands with me—I have been acquainted with him some years—he sat down beside me and ordered some tobacco—I was talking to him, and the prosecutor was talking to somebody on his left—I saw the prisoner jump up in a moment and strike the prosecutor twice—I caught his arm when he was in the act of striking a third tune—there had not been the slightest provocation—his conduct seemed very strange—he cut my finger nearly to the bone in trying to get the knife—I said, "Why have you done this, Beddall? It is a frightful affair"—he said, "I intended to kill that man; I intend to do it; he is Pizarro."
COURT. Q. You have known him some times have you known any strangeness about him? A. Yes, I have been under the impression that he is not right in his mind; I heard that he attempted to commit suicide, and had been confined in a lunatic asylum—I thought him very strange—he would give answers quite away from the questions asked—I always concluded that there was something wrong in his mind—I have had that impression more than twelve months—I heard that he had lost a child and attempted to commit suicide—I never heard of his mistaking one person for another, or for a bygone character like Pizarro, but it has been common conversation that he was going out of his mind for some time past.
JOHN ANDREWS (City Policeman 423). I took the prisoner, told him the charge, and said, "What is the matter? what is this all about?"—he rose from his seat and said, "Yes, it is perfectly right," and gave me this knife—I said that I should have to take him to the station, and asked him if he could assign any reason, but he never replied—he told the inspector that he bought the knife at Mr. Sharp's in Gough Square—he appeared cool and calm, but very much bewildered in his mind—he said nothing but what I have repeated, but he seemed like a man waking up from a sleep, and looking at something from a distance—he was sober, I believe.
Prisoner's Defence. I have very little impression of what occurred at the time. I had had nothing to drink.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON . I am the surgeon of Newgate—the prisoner has been there from 21st November—I have examined him nearly daily, and it is my belief that his mind is not sound—he believes persons are following him, and that he sees visions and hears persons conversing—his manner exhibited great suspicion and distrust; he frequently would not answer questions I put to him, and would retire from me until he got to the extreme end of the cell—I have no doubt that that was genuine and not put on.
CHARLES MAPLE . I am an attendant on insane persons—the prisoner was under my care two years ago for two months, at that time there was not the least doubt that he was Out of his mind—ho was not cured when he left me—I handed him over to one of his friends—I have seen him since, that was nine or ten months back; he then appeared just in the same state, suffering from delusions—he is suicidal and homicidal—he was in St. Luke's for some. Not Guilty, being insane.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WILLIAMS defended JESSOP.
JAMES SKEGGS . I am a warehouseman of 2, Pelham Street, Brick Lane—a month last Saturday, about twelve o'clock at night, I was in Black Eagle Street, and went to a wheel for a necessary purpose—Jessop came beside me and appeared to be engaged in the same thing—as I was turning to come past he put his right hand round my neck, I pulled him down with me, and then Broome came up and took my watch and chain from me, and two shirts and a handkerchief which were in a parcel under my arm—they ran away and I ran after them, I picked up this cap (produced) and they picked up my hat—I called "Stop thief!" but there was. no one in the street beside them—Cooper 121 H brought them to mo and I found my hat on Broome's head—this is it (produced)—I am certain of it—here is a paper inside it which I put in—they have taken the band off—I said that he had got my hat on—my property was worth about 45s.
Cross-examined. Q. How do you know your hat? A. By this paper which I put under the lining, and which I can swear to—I have noticed Jessop in the neighbourhood before, but never spoke to him.
GEORGE COOPER (Policeman 121 H). The prosecutor came to the station, and I went out and found the prisoners about 100 yards off, and 150 yards from where the robbery was committed, holding an altercation respecting the division of some money—I could not hear what they said or that they mentioned money, but they had got it in their hands—as I took them to the station, Skeggs said, "They are the two," and he identified his hat on Broome's head—Broome said that he picked it up in Shoreditch.
Broom's Defence. Two or three fellows came up to me, hitting me and saying "You are one of them," and knocked me down, my hat fell off and I picked it up as I thought and put it on—I was afterwards fighting with one of them, and the constable came and took us both.
GUILTY **—JESSOP was further charged with having been convicted at Worship Street, in May, 1866, to which he PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
The Jury after nearly eight hours' consultation being unable to agree to a verdict, were discharged and the trial of the case postponed to the next Session.
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, December 18th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. CARTER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. MONTAGUE WILLIAMS the Defence.
ELIZABETH BRIDGE . I live with my husband at 171, Drury Lane—about twenty minutes to eight in the evening of the 12th of November we left the house together—I locked the door and put the key in my pocket—I also had in my pocket a purse, 2s. in silver, and 3 1/2 d. in copper, and a handkerchief—we walked up towards Holborn—my husband went across the road to post a letter, leaving me standing at the corner of Newton Street—I noticed two women coming up the street under one shawl which was over their heads—I could not see their faces—when they got up to me, the prisoner Smith fell down at my feet and clutched my legs—I said, "What is the matter with the woman?"—the other one was holding the shawl over her head, while she was on the ground—I tried to get away, when Honey struck me in the face, and cut my cheek—the other woman put her hands up my dress and tore my pocket off—I tried to stop her, and she bit my hand—they went a little way and met a man—I saw them give something to him—I said to Smith," Give me my parcel"—she threw the shawl off and tore my hair—my husband came up and laid hold of her—he said, "Give back that purse or I shall get you locked up"—she said, "I have got no purse. You live in a bad placo in Newton Street; I will go for a policeman, and see where they go to"—when they saw a policeman coming they ran away.
Cross-examined. Q. You don't live in Newton Street, do you? A. No—I did not know they were Irish women—I am Irish, I know it is the custom for Irish women to walk about without a bonnet, and a shawl over their heads—I said before the Magistrate that they passed something to a man—I did not state that I saw her hand a pocket-handkerchief to the man—my husband said, "Give the purse up," and she said, "I have got no purse"—there was a great crowd.
ARTHUR THOMAS BRIDGE . I went out with my wife on the evening in question, and left her at the corner of Newton Street—I crossed over the way and was absent two or three minutes—when I came back I saw my wife crying and asked her what was the matter—the prisoners were there at the time, she said, "The women have been beating me and taking my purse"—I gaid, "You had better give the purse up or you will get yourselves locked up"—they said, "I will have revenge on you"—Smith tried to rush at her, but I stopped her—I went for a policeman, and when I came back they had got my wife on the ground—they ran away and I caught Honey.
Cross-examined. Q. They knew you had gone for a policeman? A. Yes, I told them—they said, "I know her"—I believe they said she struck Smith a fortnight before—I was gone about a minute for a policeman—they were both strangers to me.
JAMES BANGER (Policeman E 15). About twenty minutes before eight o'clock on the 12th November, a gentleman spoke to me, and I went to the corner of Newton Street, where there was a very large crowd; a gentleman pointed to Honey and said, "That is one of them"—she im-mediately ran away—she was stopped by Mr. Bridge—I took her into custody—Mrs. Bridge then came up and said that Honey was one that had robbed her of her purse, handkerchief, and a door key—another con-stable took Smith, and Mrs. Bridge said, "That is the other one"—I took them to the station—at the station Honey said to Smith, "You struck the woman, I did not"—nothing was found on them—the prosecutrix's dress was torn and her face bloody.
COURT. Q. Were they both sober? A. They had been drinking—Smith was under the influence of liquor—Honey was sober.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Month' Imprisonment each.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
RICHARD STALFORD . On 15th December I was lodging in Aldersgate Street—I had been visiting a friend, as I was walking along I saw a shadow moving behind me—I saw the two prisoners and two other men behind—as they approached one of them struck me on the shoulder and knocked my hat off—I can't say which one it was—they then knocked me down and broke my arm—they fell on me, knelt on me, and pulled my pockets inside-out—my money was in the right-hand trousers pocket—they took 4l. 9s. out of that pocket—I called out "Murder!" and "Police!" and they ran down a court—a policeman came up and stopped the two prisoners; in a few moments another policeman came, and the other one gave one of them into his charge—I knew them directly—I had 7s. left in my pocket.
CHARLES TUMNEN (Policeman G 246). Between two and three o'clock on Sunday morning, the 15th December, I was in Lamb's Place, White-cross Street—I heard a cry of "Murder!" and "Police!"—I went in the direction of the cries up Cherry Tree Court—I saw the prisoner Donovan running down the court—I took him into custody—Osborn came down directly afterwards, and I took him—there were two others, but they got away—I then took them in the direction where I heard the cries—I saw the prosecutor, and gave one of the prisoners into his custody—when he saw the prisoners he charged them with robbing him—neither of them said anything—I took them to the station—I then went back to the court and found a hat five or six yards from where I took the prisoners, the prosecutor identified the hat as his property—I found 2s. 5d. on Donovan—I also found 3d. on the ground.
the spot, and saw the prosecutor on the ground—I helped him up—I heard some one say, "They have gone up the court"—I ran up the court, and found the two prisoners in custody—I took one of them to the station—I afterwards went back to the court, and on the ground I found eleven keys, which the prosecutor identified.
GEORGE EUGENE YARROW . I am a surgeon, and live at 86, Curtal Street—I was called to the station on the 15th, and found the prosecutor with his arm broken; I set it—very great violence must have been used—I found other marks of great violence, I can't say whether the blows were inflicted with the fist or some weapon.
GUILTY .— Twenty lashes and Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. CARTER conducted the Prosecution.
MART JANE HIERONS . I am the wife of John Hierons, and live at Edmonton—Louisa Hierons is my daughter, she was born on the 4th April, 1858—she lived with my mother and myself—I was married some four years ago to my present husband, and she lived with us as one of the family till about eighteen months ago, when she went to live with her uncle, Joseph Bisley, an alehouse-keeper at Edmonton—she went there with my husband's consent, to assist her uncle—she slept in her uncle's house—she spent her Sunday with me—on the 4th November she disappeared from her uncle's house—she had no permission from me to do so—I know the prisoner, he lives at Edmonton—I next saw my daughter on the 21st November, about eight o'clock in the evening, when she came home to my house—I did not know where she had gone to—the prisoner is a bricklayer.
Prisoner. Q. You had a letter from your daughter? A. I got a letter on the 6th, but it did not state where she was—the postmark was Stainea.
JOHN HIERONS . I am a wheelwright, and live at Edmonton, and am the husband of the last witness—since our marriage Louisa Hierons has been living with us until she went to live with her uncle—she was absent from her uncle's house from the 4th to the 21st of November, without my consent—I have known the prisoner by seeing him at my brother-in-law's house.
LOUISA HIERONS . I am the daughter of Mary Jane Hierons—I have lived with my uncle about a year and a half; before that I lived with my mother—I have known the prisoner about twelve months, as a customer at my uncle's house—he was in the habit of drinking there—I remained at my uncle' shouse until the 4th November—the prisoner bad spoken to me before and asked me to go with him—about a fortnight before the 4th he induced me to go on a certain day—that was not in the bar—just outside—he called me out—he asked mo if I would go; I said "No"—on the same evening he threatened me with a razor, and said he would cut my throat—I said I would go then—that was a fortnight before the 4th—after that he did not say anything till the day of our leaving, on the 4th—on that. day he called me out and asked if I would go that day; I said "Yes"—he said, "Then we will go by the 8.28 train to Shoreditch"—I then went back to the house, and he went away—I went by the train from Edmonton by myself, and he got in at Park, two stations nearer London—I had 1l. 12s. when I went away—we went to the Britannia at Hoxton, and from there to a coffee-house at Hozton, where we slept—the next day we went to
Staines from Waterloo station—from there I wrote a letter to my mother without putting the date, by the prisoner's direction—from Staines we came back to Waterloo, from there to London Bridge, and then to Wimbledon—we stayed a day and a night at Staines—I continued with him up to the 21st, when I came home—it was my own proposal that I should go home—he had no money that I know of—I knew that he was a married man.
Prisoner. Q. Did I threaten you with a razor? A. Yes, in the house, outside the bar—I saw the razor in your hand—I only knew you six months personally—I have known you as a customer about twelve months.
JOSEPH RISLEY . I am the uncle of Louisa Hierons, and keep a beer-house at Edmonton—up to the 4th of November last she was living with me in my house—I did not give her my consent to go away on the 4th—I knew nothing about it till she was gone—I know the prisoner by his coming to drink at my house.
Prisoner. Q. Have I not worked for you? A. You have worked for me a day now and then—you did not work for me last week—I never quarrelled with the girl or called her names.
CATHERINE RISLEY . The last witness is my son—I look after his house—the girl was under my observation while I was in the house—I never gave her permission to go away on the 4th—I did not know of her going away or her intention of doing so.
JOHN HOWLETT (Policeman 17 Y). I am stationed at Edmonton—I apprehended the prisoner on the 23rd November—I found him at Edmonton—I had been in search of him—I took him in charge, and said he was charged with taking a girl away from her father—he made no direct reply to the charge—I searched him, and found a handkerchief on him belonging to the girl—he resisted very much—it took three or four persons to take him to the station.
Prisoner's Defence.—I only say she pressed me all she could to go away, and said she would not stay to be called the names she was—I said I was going away, and she said, "I will go with you"—she used to get me and talk about going away.
COURT to JOHN HOWLETT. Q. What was in the letter? A. She said she was very comfortable—there was nothing of any consequence—she said that he had threatened her twice, but he had not got a razor the second time.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLINS the Defence.
THOMAS DEAN . I live at 5, Vincent Street, and am a wine-cooper—on Thursday, the 7th November, about half-past eight in the evening, I was in Vincent Street—I saw a man there, and had some conversation with him—when he left me the prisoner came up and asked me the time—I pulled out my watch, and he snatched it out of my hand and rau away—I did not know the men—I was looking after a house, and the first man said, "What are you looking at?"—he said, "There is one to let round the corner"—I said very well, and I went round the corner, and he said he would fetch the letter of the house, and then he brought the prisoner—when the prisoner came and snatched my watch, the other man struck me on the side of the head, knocked me into the road, and smashed my finger—when I recovered myself I jumped up, and was knocked down again—I
afterwards found one of my fingers was broken on the left hand—I did not see the prisoner again for six days, till the 13th—I saw him at the police-station mixed up with some other men—I picked him out—he is the man that snatched my watch—I had time to look at his face before I was knocked down.
Cross-examined. Q. You saw his face plainly? A. Yes, for about aquarter of a minute—I hare said before to-day that the other man fetched the prisoner up to me—my depositions were read over to me, but I did not take any notice—the other man brought the prisoner from round the corner—he was gone about half a minute—it was dark, but there was a lamp within about ten yards—directly the prisoner came up he asked me the time—he snatched my watch and ran off with it—it was done iu about a quarter of a minute—the prisoner had a lightish coat on at the time, very ragged, a dark cap, and corded trousers, fitting tight—I could see the hands of the watch—I never saw the prisoner before that night to my knowledge—there were eight or nine men at the station when I picked him out—the policeman Watts went into the room with me—he told me to point the man out, and I did—there were four or five constables in the room, some in uniform and some not.
ELLEN UNDERWOOD . I live at Cross Street, Old Street Road—I am married, and my husband is a cabinet maker—ron the 7th November, about half-past eight, I was in Vincent Street—I saw the prisoner there—he had a light coat on, very ragged, and a cap with a peak—there was another man with him—I saw the prisoner go up to Mr. Dean, and Mr. Dean pulled his watch out—the prisoner made a snatch at it, and ran away to my left—the other man struck him a severe blow on the head, and knocked him down, and when he was on the ground the man kicked him on the head—Mr. Dean called out "Stop thief," and the man kicked him again—I was close to him—the man then ran away to my right, in a different direction to the prisoner—I was about three yards off when the prosecutor took out his watch—I am sure the prisoner is the man that snatched the watch—I have seen him before—he lives opposite us, and I have seen him constantly for about five or six months.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know the prisoner's name? A. No—I know where he lived—I know his wife's name—I have known her for years—I never spoke to the prisoner in my life—I remember him being married, but I did not go—his wife has threatened me—I do not know the prosecutor—I did not help him to get up—he appeared to be bleeding very much from the head—I did not speak to him—I was afraid to help him—it was a dark night, but there was a lamp over the road—I could have almost touched them if I had put out my foot—I could have caught hold of him—there was no other persons in the road—I was not before the Magistrate on the first examination—I was at the second.
MR. PATER. Q. Why did you not go on the first occasion? A. Because I was threatened so much by the prisoner's friends—I had to take proceedings to prevent violence being used—I have known the prisoner by sight for a long time.
CATHERING YOUNG . I live at 22, Vincent Street, and am married—my husband deals in fish—on the 7th November I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and went out of the nouse—when I got to the door I saw the prisoner ran past, and run round a corner—I had seen him before for about eight or nine months—I have no doubt he is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you sec Mr. Dean at all? A. When I walked
up the street I did—he was about fifty yards from our house—the prisoner passed about four yards from me—as he passed he made a slip, and he would have fallen if he had not caught hold of the post—I had an opportunity of seeing him when I came out, he was directly opposite my house. Sarah Jemima Wheatlet. I live at 9, Cross Street, Old Street Road—on the 7th November last, about half-past eight in the evening, I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I went to the door, and the prisoner ran past up Vincent Street—I have known him for the last four or five months as a neighbour—I am sure it was the prisoner—I was about two yards from him at the time.
Cross-examined. Q. How far do you live from Mrs. Young? A. Two doors—I live in Cross Street, and Mrs. Young just round the corner, in Vincent Street—the man was running as hard as he could.
ISRAEL WATTS (Policeman 184 N). I apprehended the prisoner on the 13th November at Sun Street—I told him I wanted him for stealing a watch on the 7th—he said, "You are mistaken"—I said, "I am not mistaken, you will have to go to the station to see if the parties identify you"—I was present when the prosecutor was brought to the station—the prisoner was put in a room with five or six others; the prosecutor was then brought in, and identified him.
Cross-examined. Q. Were there eight or nine men? A. Five or six—I was in Court when the prosecutor was examined—I said at the police-court, "Witness picked him out from four or five men"—I will swear there were no policemen in the room—there were four or five casuals there—there were two men brought from the street, four or five casuals, and the prisoner—I received information on the night of the robbery, but I did not not know where he lived till after I apprehended him—I found him at his lodgings, 16, Sun Street.
MR. COLLINS called the following Witnesses for the Defence.
EMMA JENNINGS . I live at 16, Sun Street, in the same house as the prisoner—on the 7th November he came in a few minutes before eight in the evening—I was with him the whole evening—I am quite sure he was not out of the house at half-past eight.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you any relation to the prisoner? A. No—he is married—I know Mrs. Underwood—I never said to her the night after the robbery that I did not see the prisoner at all on the 7th—there is no truth in that—the prisoner always goes out at half-past six in the morning—I did not know that a robbery was committed on the 7th till Mrs. Underwood told me—I don't know that he has got a brother-in-law—he came in a few minutes before eight on the 7th November—I did not go before the Magistrate.
EDWARD DAVIS . I am sixteen years old, and am the prisoner's brother—on the 7th of November I was at home—I was at tea with my brother and his wife and Mrs. Jennings on that night—I stayed there till about half-past nine—my brother did not go out during the evening.
Cross-examined. Q. Was your brother at home when you went in that night? A. Yes—I have a brother-in-law, but I never see much of him—I did not see him that day nor since—I saw him about a week before the 7th—I heard my brother was in trouble when the policeman came and took him to the station—Mr. Dean followed him all the way behind—Watts was the policeman, and there were two others—I know it was ten minutes past eight when I got to my brother's, because it struck eight when I was in the City Road, it was about ten minutes past
when I got there—my brother had his coat off when I got there—he wears a cap.
COURT. Q. The prosecutor was following when your brother was taken into custody? A. Yes; my brother's wife went and asked him what it was for, and he told her to ask the policeman.
COURT to ISRAEL WATTS. Q. Was the prosecutor there? A. I did not see him—he lives in Vincent Street, close by, and just as I got into the station I saw the prosecutor come in behind—I did not see him till I was just close to the door.
COURT to THOMAS DEAN. Q. Were you present when the prisoner was taken into custody? A. I was fetched by a constable, and walked behind the prisoner and the policeman when he was taken to the station—I did not see the prisoner's face at that time—I could not see the prisoner on the way to the station to identify him—I saw his back, but not his face—it was rather dark.
EMMA LARWOOD . I live at 16, Sun Street, Old Street Road, in the same house as the prisoner—lie has lodged in the house about six months—I am the landlady of the house—Emma Jennings is a lodger—Mrs. Underwood knows the prisoner's name—I don't think she is good friends with Mrs. Jennings—I don't think she has been more than once to my house—I have seen her and the prisoner's wife in company.
MR. PATER recalled
ELLEN UNDERWOOD . I saw Mrs. Jennings the night after the robbery—I spoke to her—I said I saw Mrs. Larwood a little while ago, and she said she knew nothing about the robbery, and I said, "I shall never speak to Mrs. Larwood again, and then she will not think that I have interfered with her lodgers."
The Prisoner received a good character. NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, December, 19th, 1867.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
91. JOHN VERINDER (42) was indicted for unlawfully and maliciously writing and publishing a false, scandalous, and defamatory libel of and concerning Thomas Chambers, Esq., Common Serjeant of the City of London.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
In opening the facts of the case MR. POLAND stated that the surgeon of the gaol was in attendance to speak to the state of the prisoner's mind. The COURT directed the Jury to be sworn to try whether he was then insane, and upon the evidence of MR. JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON , surgeon of Newgate, they found the prisoner to be insane.— Ordered to be detained till Her Majesty's pleasure be known.
MESSRS. RIBTON, CUNNINGHAM, and FLOOD conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. DALY and HOUSTON the Defence.
FREDERICK COLLINS . I am a carpenter, and live at 1, Farmer Road, Barnes—on Saturday night, 23rd November, from half-past eleven to twelve o'clock, I was at the Swan public-house, Broadway, Hammersmith—I had two friends with me, the deceased Frederick James and the
witness Dear—I had a hare in my hand—the prisoner and another named Webb came in after we had been there about ten minutes—the prisoner said, "You have got a hare there, governor"—I said, "Yes, I have"—he said, "Did you catch it?"—Dear made answer and said "No, he bought it"—the prisoner looked round at Dear and said, "You, you b----, you don't know how to catch a hare"—I asked my friends whether they would leave; I did not like the way in which they were speaking; I said, "We will get out of this as soon as we can"—as we were going out of the door Dear said, "Perhaps I could catch one as well as you if I had the chance"—we then left—I went out first, about half a second before my friends; they came directly almost, it might be half a minute or so, and we all three went straight across from the Swan to the Bridge Road, to the left-hand side of the road, to the corner of a small shop there, I should think about forty-five yards from the Swan—we stopped talking there; it might have been ten minutes—I bade them good night, and had got a few yards from them when I saw the prisoner and Webb in front of me—they came straight across from the Swan to the corner where we were standing—Thompson was on the right-hand side of Webb—they were on the path crossing the road when I first saw them, coming towards me—Thompson said to Webb, "That is one of the b----s, let them have it"—I was knocked down directly by a blow on the face from Webb—I got up again directly and said to Webb, who was standing in front of me, "You have made a mistake, governor, I have never insulted you in any way"—I was knocked down again directly—I don't know which of them knocked me down the second time; I can't say whether it was either of them; there was no other person present at the time—I don't know what took place afterwards, I was stunned—I could not say how long I remained so—when I came to myself I was looking for my hat—a policeman came up—some one told him I was one of the three that had been knocked about, and he said, "There is one dead; do you know it?"—I said, "No, I do not"—I went with the police to the hospital, and there saw the deceased.
Q. Had either of your friends said anything to either of these two men calculated to produce a quarrel, during the evening, or during the time you had seen them in the public-house? A. Not a word; we were not with them more than ten minutes—Thompson spoke first, about the hare—I had had a glass or two, several glasses perhaps, but I was none the worse for it—I knew very well what I was about.
Cross-examined. Q. How long were you in the public-house? A. I could not say; we might have been in there twenty minutes—I will say a quarter of an hour; I think no longer—I did not look at the time when I went in; it was nearly closing time when I left—it must have been about twenty minutes to twelve when I went in—I had had several glasses before I went into that house—I had been in the New Road—I went into Mr. Bullock's public-house, the Wheatsheaf, and had tea there, and there I sat with several other friends—I had a glass or two there as well as tea—I had several glasses—I drank ale principally, no rum; I never drink rum—I generally drink ale—I seldom ever drink spirits—I had nothing but ale to my knowledge, and I don't think my friends had—I could not say whether I had a glass of gin—I don't think I had more than one glass—I remember having one glass of gin, that is all, not more—I was examined before the Magistrate on the Monday as this occurred on the Saturday night—I did not say before the Magistrate that Thompson said, "That is one of the b----s, let him have
it"—my deposition was read over, and I signed it—I know that was not in it because I did not say it—I did not wish to say it; I would sooner say less than more in a case of this kind—I can't tell you why I have said it now, but it is the truth—I said before the Magistrate that I said to Webb, "You have made a mistake; I never insulted you M—I said I wished to reason with them, and I mentioned the other words too—I am sure of that—I would not swear it was in the deposition, but I am sure I said it—I dare say I was ten minutes at the corner of the street—the prisoners remained in the public-house when I left—I don't think it was longer than ten minutes—we went in at twenty minutes to twelve—I don't know how long I took drinking the glass of ale; we were not very thirsty, I suppose, or else we should have drunk it up quick—I am sure we were not twenty minutes at the corner of the street; it was about ten minutes—I could not say to a minute or two.
MR. FLOOD. Q. How far is the Wheatsheaf from the Swan? A. Near upon half a mile—I left the Wheatsheaf about ten—I should say I was neither sober nor intoxicated—I knew what I was about perfectly—I had all my senses about me.
WILLIAM DEAR . I am a labourer, and live at 38, Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—on Saturday night, 23rd November, I was at the Swan public-house with the deceased and last witness—I should think it was about half-past eleven when we went in—I did not see the prisoner and his friend when I went in—they came in—I did not see them come in—I did not notice whether there were double doors to the house—the prisoner asked if we had caught a hare—I said, "No, we have not caught it, we have bought it"—he said, "You b----s, you don't know how to catch one"—the deceased said to me, "Come along, we won't have no bother," and I went out directly—I followed the last witness; he went out first, and the deceased followed me out—we joined together at the bottom of Bridge Road—the deceased overtook us before we got there—we stood at the corner of the road talking, it may have been ten minutes, all three of us; I won't swear to the exact time; I think it was ten minutes—Collins said, "Good night!" to us, and left the deceased and I talking there—we did not stand there two minutes, nor yet a minute, before I was knocked down, I don't know by whom—I did not see anyone come up—I received the blow from behind as I was standing talking to the deceased—I saw the prisoners come up when they were about a yard from us—I saw them come and stand by the side of us before I was knocked down—I am sure the prisoner, and Webb are the men—they stood by the side of us, close on the kerb—we were about a yard or more from the kerb, on the path—there were several persons passing to and fro, but they did not remain—I was knocked down and injured very much—I had my eye blacked and swollen—I could not see out of it on Sunday morning—my hand was hurt, and the back of my head, and my lips cut, besides other injuries—I can't say whether they were inflicted by a man's hand; I can't say whether they were the consequence of the fall, or whether I was struck after I fell—I don't remember anything after I received ther blow till the Sunday morning, when I got up, about eight o'clock—I was insensible all that time—I do not remember even getting on to my own home.
Cross-examined. Q. You say Collins said, "Good night," and went away? A. Yes; I think that may have been about two minutes before I was knocked down; it was not longer—it was a very short time, scarcely
two minutes—I said to the deceased, "I am going home, are you going?" and I received the blow instantly—I don't know how far Collins had gone, I never saw him afterwards—I don't know whether he was there when I was knocked down; I can't say—he had gone about two minutes—it was not five minutes; he went towards Hammersmith Bridge when he left us—I did not see him going down the road—I saw him leave—I did not look to see whether he was gone—I can't say whether his back was towards me when I was knocked down—I had been drinking very little that night; perhaps I might have drunk one shilling's-worth from the time I left off at one o'clock till this happened—I saw Collins at five o'clock and was with him until the end—we had been in two public-houses; I can't say how long we remained in the first one; it was not some hours—we were drinking four-half-and-half there—I had a pint of beer and half-a-quartern of gin and water—at the Swan I had a pot of cooper or ale, I will not be certain which, between the three of us—the only public-houses we were in were the British Prince, in the New Road, and the Swan—we were twenty minutes in the British Prince—between five and twelve we were walking about to different places that we had got to go to—we went into Mr. Bullock's, the Wheatsheaf—I did not go in there at all after I got my money at one o'clock—Collins and I were there at five o'clock; we had a pint of beer there—after that we went to the British Prince—we got there about twenty minutes to eleven and remained there about twenty minutes—I was not at the Wheatsheaf from five o'clock—I went home and back again—Collins did not go with me; I met him again after I came back to the Wheatsheaf; I had left him there, and found him there when I came back—I could not say whit time that was—after that I went to the British Prince, and when we left there we went to the Swan—we started from the British Prince about eleven or ten minutes past, and went straight down the Grove to the Swan; we had no gin or beer at the Swan, only a pot of cooper or ale—we drank it out of a quart pot.
MR. FLOOD. Q. How long after you said "Good night" to Collins were you knocked down? A. Not above two minutes—I can't say whether he was in sight when I was knocked down—I did not see him, my back was to him—he went straight ahead up the Bridge Road in a line with me and the deceased.
ANN PUERCEY . I am a single woman, and live at 19, Somerset-place, Hammersmith—on Saturday night, the 23rd November, at twelve o'clock, I was near the Bridge Road; I saw three men come from the direction of the Swan—they were Collins, Dear, and the deceased—I knew him, but I did not know his name—they went against Mr. Squib's corner, and stood there as the clock was striking twelve—they were talking together, seemingly as if they were bidding one another good night—while they were doing that I saw two men come from the Swan, one was tall and the other short—the prisoner was one of them and Webb the other—they went to Squib's corner; the shortone, Webb, left the prisoner, and the prisoner went like this, and said, "You b----b----s, you have been on to me all the evening," and down the man fell, and never moved—the prisoner thrust his hand towards the deceased, right in front of him—he fell on the pavement on his back, the prisoner then knocked Mr. Collins down, and before he gave time for him to get up he knocked him down again with the same hand that he gave the straightforward blow with—he kept his other hand in his pocket—he put his hand in his pocket as soon as he knocked Collins down again—he then gave a back-hander and knocked ihe other one into the road—he first
attacked tne deceased, then with the same hand struck Collins down twice, and with the other hand knocked Dear down—he kept the hand that he gave the straightforward blow with in his pocket—he was then going away, very slowly, till a tall man took the prisoner, and I said to him, "Whatever you do, don't let that man, go, for this man has fallen down and is severely injured"—he said, "I will take care, you are not going yet, Thompson"—the prisoner said, "No, I don't want to go yet," and the man, I think his name is Melville, gave him in charge—the prisoner is the man who struck the blow at the deceased—I had seen him before out in the street, and knew him by sight—I saw the deceased lying on the gronnd, and I stopped there till he was carried to the hospital—the policeman turned on his bull's-eye and undid his waistcoat—I saw the blood coming from his body, right down his trousers, and I said, "Oh, my gracious! the man is cut; don't let the man go."
Cross-examined. Q. You say the prisoner said, "You have been on to us all the evening;" were those the only words he used? A. Yes—I was quite close to him when he knocked down the deceased—he had one hand in his pocket; he hit him a straightforward blow in the chest, where he was cut—it was after that he knocked down the other men—he then used his two hands—I could not see anything in either of his hands at the time—he kept one in his pocket—he no sooner had them out of his pocket than he put them in again—he had both hands out of his pockets when he struck the deceased, but as soon as he gave the blow he put his hand in his pocket again, and there he kept it till he knocked Collins down—the deceased was then lying on the ground—Webb went away; I did not see him do anything.
MR. FLOOD. Q. With which hand did the prisoner strike the blow? A. The right—I did not see anything in his hand—as soon as he struck the blow he put his hand in his pocket directly—the deceased never moved after he was struck.
CHARLES PALMER . I live at 13, King's Terrace, Hammersmith, and am a calico glazer—on Saturday night, 23rd November, about ten minutes after twelve, I was standing opposite the end of the Bridge Road, opposite Mr. Squib's window—I saw, to the best of my recollection, four men there—I can't say exactly whether they were together; one was, I think, round the Bridge Road—I heard a man say, "I have been waiting for yon, you b----, or b----s"—after that he said, "You are the three that interfered with me and my mate"—I then heard a man fall—I ran across the road and saw the prisoner knock a man down—he then knocked another man down—the second man was dressed in a flannel jacket—a tall man named Melville came up—he went up to the prisoner and tapped him on the left shoulder and said, "You shall not go till a policeman comes"—two policemen came up then—one of the men that had been knocked down got up and asked for his hat—the other man made an attempt to get up once and fell down again, the second time of trying, he got up and went away—the policeman said to the prisoner, "You had better go on"—he walked a few steps with a man named Clarke—Melville then said to the constable, "You had better take this man in charge, for I think that man has been kicked"—the constable took him in charge—the deceased was lying on the ground during this conversation—he never moved or spoke at all—when his waistcoat was undone I saw a great deal of blood on his chest.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear everything that was said? A. That
I can't say—I have stated what I heard—the prisoner spoke in a very strong voice, or else perhaps I should not have heard him.
FRANCIS HERNY MELVILLE . I am a coachmaker of 4, Bridge Road, Hammersmith—shortly after twelve o'clock on Saturday night, 23rd November, as I was returning home through the Bridge Road, I heard a man say, "You b----, you are one that has been on to me all night, and you are another"—he was addressing two persons—I then heard a dull heavy blow, more like a kick than a blow—I ran across the road and saw the prisoner standing by a man who was lying on his back—I saw a constable there, he went across the road with me—I saw a man with some turnips and a hare, and Webb was just scrambling off him when I got over—it was Collins—Webb had hardly got off him when the constable caught him by the sleeve as he was going off towards the Bridge Road—the prisoner was standing by the deceased, who was on his back—I walked up to him and said, "I believe you have severely injured that man" (pointing to the deceased) "and I shall take care you don't leave here till some more constables come"—he said, "Oh, I don't want to leave"—I said, "No, I will take care you don't"—I said, "You have kicked him, or something or other, you have severely injured him, because he has not moved since I have been here"—ho said, "No, I have not"—I saw blood on the deceased's trousers—I helped to carry him to the hospital—he seemed to me be dead—I told the constable previously to our picking him up to turn on his light, he did so, and I said, "My God! the man is dead"—I saw him undressed in the hospital—I saw a wound on his breast just over the heart—it was about an inch in width, and about half an inch open, gaping—I did not see anybody there when I first heard the words I have spoken of, but the five men—Dear was in the gutter, Collins and Webb about six or eight feet to the right, and the prisoner, with deceased lying on his back, by the corner against the palings—I could not say that the prisoner is the person who I heard use the language—there was no one else who could have said it—I did not see anybody else—a lot of people soon congregated round.
COURT Q. Did you see the young woman there? A. Yes—she came up to me afterwards; when I first got over, there was no one there but the five men.
AATON PITCH . I am a millers labourer, and live in Rose Gardens, Hammersmith—ou Saturday night, 23rd November, I was in the Bridge Road, Hammersmith, about twenty minutes past twelve—I had just left off work, and was coming home—as I was passing across the Broadway I saw two men fall down—I went up to them, and there were three lying on the ground when I got up to them—there were five or six persons there, or something like that, when I got up—I saw Thompson and Webb—I heard Thompson say, "You have been trying to kick up a piece of work with me all night, "alluding to the three men—I did not see him point to them, I was looking at the poor fellow that was lying down—I saw blood on the deceased running down his trousers—he seemed quite dead.
ISAAC WORF (Policeman 125 T). Shortly after twelve on Saturday night, 23rd November, I was in the Broadway, Hammersmith—a boy came and fetched mo to the corner of the Bridge Road, Broadway—I saw a crowd of about twenty or thirty persons—I passed into the middle of the crowd, and there saw the deceased lying on his back—he appeared to be dead when I turned my light on—one of the witnesses called my attention to the prisoner—he was walking away, about twelve or fifteen yards from where the deceased was lying—I went after him, and told him to
come baek, for I believed he had done something very serious—I said, "Come back this way, and see what you have done; I believe you have seriously injured this man"—he said, "Oh, I will come back; you need not take hold of me; the b----s have been on to us all night"—I then brought him back, and left him in charge of a brother constable while I turned round to see what they were going to do with the deceased—I got two witnesses, Collins and Fitch, who saw the assault—Collins had been assaulted, and Fitch saw the assault—I took them down to the police-station—I was there when the prisoner was there—I searched him—I saw a knife taken out of his pocket by Watson, 121—I saw blood on the blade, on both sides, and also on the handle—it was opened in the prisoner's presence—it was a clasp-knife—the prisoner wanted to have it book again—it was not given to him—it was handed over to the acting-inspector—the blood appeared damp, quite fresh—I saw some blood on the prisoner's waistcoat when I was searching him, on the lappet or cover of the right pocket, which the knife was taken from—I afterwards saw a little blood inside the pocket where the knife had lain, on the lining; it appeared fresh—when I saw the blood on the pocket, I said to the prisoner, "Here is some blood here, it seems fresh"—he said, "There might have been blood on the jacket for years."
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose the blood had soaked through from the outside to the inside of the pocket? A. Oh, no; it was not sufficient for that—I could not say whether the mark inside corresponded with the mark outside—I don't know—the knife is here—I saw it taken out of the prisoner's waistcoat pocket by the other constable—when I met the prisoner first, I did not shove him on and tell him to go away—no one told him to go away, that I am aware of, or gave him a push.
ALEXANDER WATSON (Policeman 121 T). On Saturday night, the 23rd November, at ten minutes past twelve, I was on duty at the Bridge Road, Hammersmith—I saw the man lying on the pavement, and I saw the prisoner there—another constable, who was with me, went and fetched him back—Mr. Melville pointed him out, and told us to fetch him back to detain him—I took him to the station—I asked him if he had a knife—he said he had—he took this knife (produced) from his right-hand waistcoat pocket—it was clasped as it is now—I opened it, and found blood on the blade—I showed it to the sergeant—it was quite damp—he wanted the knife back again—I heard him say they had been kicking up a row with him all the night.
GEORGE BIDEN (Police Sergeant 32 T). About half-past twelve on Saturday night, 23rd November, I was at the police-station, Brook Green, Hammersmith—the prisoner and another man were brought in, accompanied by a number of persons—they were afterwardt identified by the witness Collins, and were charged with killing and slaying Frederick George James, by stabbing him in the breast with a knife—when Collins, and Fitch came in I asked them to point out the man that had committed the deed—they looked round the charge-room, and pointed out Thompson and Webb—they said they were present during the assault—Collins also complained of being assaulted—after the charge was read over to them, Thompson said, "They had been annoying us all night"—Webb said, "I was there with my mate; I know nothing about it"—I ordered them to be searched, and last witness handed me this knife—it had marks of blood on both sides of the blade, and on the haft—it was quite damp—I might say wet—I said, "This blood is quite fresh on the knife"—the
prisoner then asked me to give him back the knife—I said he would not be allowed to have it any more—he said, "I want my knife"—the prisoner's waistcoat was then handed to me—this is it (produced)—I examined it—I found a spot of blood on the breast, another under the lappel of the pocket, and inside the pocket I found a mark of blood corresponding with the width of the back of the blade of the knife; it was no wider—each mark was quite fresh—the blood was very plain then, much more so than it is now.
ARTHUR WALTER REED . I am house surgeon at the West London Hospital, Hammersmith—on Saturday night, 23rd November, I was at the hospital at twenty-five minutes past twelve, when Policeman Haydon, 329, and a crowd of persons, brought in the deceased—he was just alive—I saw him breathe once—his under-shirt and flannel shirt were saturated with fluid blood—I examined his body—I found an external wound over the region of the heart, and the surface of the chest and abdomen were smeared with blood—the wound was an inch in length—this knife, if used with violence, might produce such a wound—it is not a very sharp knife, but if driven with sufficient violence it would easily make that wound—it was over five inches in depth—the external wound was over the region of the heart, but it penetrated into the cavity of the right ventricle of the heart—I made a post mortem examination—I found that the wound penetrated the wall of the chest in the space between the fourth and fifth rib—the wound in the heart was the cause of death—I remarked at the time I first saw the wound, that the lower angle of it was not so acute as the upper angle, consequently I thought it had been done with a knife with only one edge to it, which edge had gone uppermost—that corresponds with this knife—the upper border of the cartilage of the rib was notched, proving that great violence had been used—the knife had partially divided the cartilage of the rib, which is a dense structure—I found a slight bruise on the lip, which might have been done by the teeth—there was no mark on the face beyond that, no bruise, or anything, nor anything about the knuckles or hands, or anything else to show that there had been a fight, or anything of that kind—the deceased was a very fine fellow, a very square-built man, and I remarked at the time, although the body was very pallid from the amount of blood that had been lost, the left side of the chest was full of blood, and the heart too—his clothes were saturated—I saw the witness Melville—I could not say whether he came with the body—I think he came after—I saw him there, and he looked at the body.
THOMAS HAYDON (Policeman T 329). On 23rd November, about five minutes past twelve, I was sent for to the Swan—the landlord said he wanted to get the men out; it was past twelve o'clock—I saw the witness Collins outside the house; he wished me good night and went towards the Bridge Road—I did not see any one outside but Collins—he stood there with a hare in his hand—directly afterwards I saw the witness Dear come out and go in the same direction—I did not notice the deceased come out—I pushed open the door, and saw the prisoner and two more men in front of the bar—I requested them to come out—as the prisoner came out at the door he said, "Good night, policeman," and he went in the same direction—towards the Bridge Road—Webb went with him—I did not notice which way the third man went—he did not go with Thompson and Webb—some few minutes afterwards I saw Thompson in custody of the constable—I said to my brother constable, "What's amiss now?"—Thompson said, "Oh! I have only knocked him down"—I saw the deceased lying on
the ground, close to the corner of the Bridge Road—I took him to the hospital.
JOHN POSSNETT (Policeman T 203). On Saturday night, 23rd November, or the morning of the 24th, about ten minutes past twelve, I was standing about ten yards from the corner of Bridge Road—I heard a heavy fall—I could not tell of what—it was the sound of a body falling—I turned round in the direction of the sound—a person came and said, "Constable, you are wanted"—I ran across the road—I did not notice whether the person went with me—I saw an elderly man on the ground, and a short man standing near him, over him—I think it was Webb—I saw the deceased lying on the ground about two and a half yards off—I caught hold of Webb's arm and sent for two constables that I had seen across the way at the Swan a few minutes before.
JOHN CLARK JAMES . I am a veterinary student, of 26, College Place, Camden Town—the deceased was my brother—I saw him on Sunday morning, 24th November, at the West London Hospital, dead—his name was George Frederick James—he was about twenty-two years of age.
COURT to FRANCIS HENRY MELVILLE. Q. What state was the prisoner in that night, as to drink? A. Well, he seemed pretty sober.
The prisoner received a good character for humanity and quietness of disposition from four witnesses, with whom he worked and lodged.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy in consequence of his previous good character. — DEATH .
MESSRS. RIBTON and CUNNINGHAM conducted the Prosecution, and MR. DALY the Defence.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the whole of this transaction? A. No, decidedly not; not in the public-house, in the street—I was there when Thompson and Webb came up—I was a few yards from the other two—I saw Webb and Thompson come across the road, and Webb knocked me down—I had not spoken to him—no one was with me when I was knocked down—I was some distance from the others—I told Webb that he had made a mistake, that I had not insulted him—I did not say a word to them before they struck me, or do anything to them—I said nothing about fighting—I never spoke.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Are you quite certain you did not say anything to them, or any of the others? A. Not a word; I had just bid Dear and the deceased good night—I believe they had got about four or five yards away—I was coming towards the corner when I saw the two men come across the road—they were three or four yards, it might be, from me when I first saw them; I was the first man knocked down.
COURT. Q. Did anybody say anything to them in your hearing? A. I did not hear a word, no more than what was said in the public-house—all three of us were in the public-house before they came in—we left them there.
Cross-examined. Q. What distance were you from the place? A. When I first heard it about twenty yards—I was within two yards of Webb
when he was walking away—I did not see Webb do anything, only scrambling off the man—I describe him as "the short man"—I could not swear it was Webb—it was a short man answering his description—I could not recognise the man only by seeing him afterwards—I could not swear he was the actual man that got off him—it was a short man.
The evidence of John Possnett was also read over.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Webb do anything? A. No, I did not—I did not see him strike anybody—I do not know who struck me.
ANN PIERCEY . (This witness's former evidence was read over). When I first saw Webb he was coming from the Swan—Thompson was with him—I did not see both of them go up to the three men—only one, that was Thompson—I lost sight of Webb—what he was doing then I don't know.
MR. DALY proposed to call for the defence the prisoner Thompson, who had just been convicted.—MR. JUSTICE LUSH doubted whether a felon under sentence of death was an admissible witness, and asked if MR. DALY had any authority for the course he proposed to take.—MR. DALY had no direct authority, but he conceived that under Lord Denman's Act (6 and 7 Vict.), such a course was authorised.—MR. JUSTICE LUSH considered the witness not a competent one. A person under sentence of death stood in a different position from an ordinary felon. Under the old law a person attainted and sentenced to death was deemed civilly dead, and he did not think his capacity as a witness was restored by 6 and 7 Vict.; he could not therefore receive the evidence, but if it became necessary would reserve the question.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, December 19th, 1867.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. COLLINS and STRAIGHT the Defence.
FREDERICK WILLIAM PHIPPS . I am in partnership with my father, and we carry on business at 243, Holborn—on Thursday, the 3rd October, the prisoner came to our shop and gave an order to my father—I did not hear the first part of the conversation, but I heard him say that he had a farm at Barking, in Essex—that he was in the habit of bringing milk up every morning by the Eastern Counties Railway, and that he wanted a cart harness to bring it to his sale rooms in Hatton Garden—the price first agreed upon for the harness was 6l. 10s.—we lent him an old harness for that day—I saw him afterwards in reference to the price, and it was arranged to sell it for 7l.—the harness was sent by one of our men named Clarke, but we never received the money for it—the old harness was sent back—he said on one occasion he would call and pay me—I saw him on the Friday, and he said he should not be up from the farm till the 12th, and he would call then—he did not call—I called at Hatton Garden twice on that evening, once about five, and again at half-past six—I saw two or three different people there—I did not see him again till I saw him in Holborn, and pointed him out to an officer, who took him into custody—he said he had a quantity of cows on his farm.
Cross-examined. Q. This bargain with the harness was concluded with your father? A. Yes—when the prisoner first came in he spoke to my
father in front of the shop—I might have heard the conversation, but I did not pay attention—I was in the counting-house—the new harness was supplied on the 15th October—I don't know what day it was I pointed him out to the constable—we made an entry ia the books of this transaction—I have not got them here—I made the entry in the order book—the harness was sent to Hatton Garden.
THOMAS PHIPPS . I am the father of the last witness—early in October the prisoner came to my shop and asked if I had a good second-hand harness—after some little conversation I said he had better get a new one, and it was agreed that I should make anew one for 6l. 10s. or 7l.—he then said, "You must lend me an old one to use, for I have to bring up milk every day from my farm at Barking by the Eastern Counties Railway, and it is necessary that I should have a harness for immediate use—I am always at my shop at Hatton Garden at ten and five o'clock"—I told him he should have the harness in a week, but I did not send it until the following Tuesday week—I did not have any more to do with him after that—I parted with my harness because I thought he was a respectable man with a farm at Barking—he said he had a quantity of cows, but he did not mention the number—he said his farm was at Barking.
Cross-examined. Q. That induced you to make the harness? A. Yes—it was not owing to what Clarke told me, and seeing the name in the Directory, that I allowed him to have the harness—I saw the name of George Gould, of Bleeding Hart Yard, in the Directory, and I thought he was the same man—the Directory was seven years old—at the time the prisoner ordered the harness he did not say anything about Bleeding Hart Yard—he said he brought his milk to sell at Charles Street, Hatton Garden—the harness was sent there—I parted with the harness because I thought he was the owner of cows at Barking, and from seeing the name in the Directory—he looked over a good many harnesses in our shop—he saw some silver-mounted harness—we had no second-hand set of harness except that we lent to him—the value of that was 5l.—it was my proposition that he should have new harness—I said it would be cheaper for him in the end.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Should you have parted with your harness at all if he had not said he was a farmer at Barking, and had a number of cows then? A. No—certainly not—he said what milk he did not sell in the Eastern Counties he sold at Charles Street.
COURT. Q. If you had thought he was the man at Bleeding Hart Yard, would not you have been willing to part with your harness to that man? A. No—I think I said before the Magistrate that it was owing to what Clarke told me, and seeing the name in the Directory, that strengthened my intention to make the harness.
The COURT considered after the statement of the witness before the Magistrate there was no case.
NOT GUILTY .
CHARLES CULLING (continued). I answered both the letters (Read:—"36, Charles Street, Hatton Garden, Mr. Culling, Sir, Having been informed that you have a quantity of carrots for sale, will you oblige me with the price per ton, Signed, George Gould":—"36, Charles Street, Hatton Garden, Mr. Culling, Sir, In reply to yours you can send one truck of cattle carrots as a sample, if up to the mark I can sell a large quantity—send letter of advice when they will arrive at Brick Lane Station, Yours obediently, George Gould.")—In consequence of those letters I sent three trucks, two containing five tons, and one four tons, to Brick Lane Station—I went up to London with the carrots and saw the prisoner—I then took some carrots as a sample from the truck, and I had others in my pocket—I showed him the letter I had received, and he said, "That is mine"—I then agreed to have more carrots sent, as I had sold some of the carrots to somebody else—I was to sell them for 44s. a ton—he told me that he had cows at Barking, and that he bad a large connection among consumers—he could consume himself from fifteen to twenty tons a week, and he said he could do a great quantity among the cow-keepers at Barking, and he would send a cheque the next morning—in consequence of his representing that to me, I let him have the carrots—he said he had a farm and cows at Barking—the value of the trucks was 7l. 3s. less the expenses of the railway—I let him have them because he represented himself to be a farmer—I never got a cheque or the money—I did not see him again till he was in prison—I know where the carrots have gone to—I went to the station, and saw them going away—I did not see the prisoner there.
Cross-examined. Q. You had never seen the prisoner before you came to London? A. No—I consigned part of the carrots in the prisoner's name and part in my own name—the part that was directed to him I consigned in his name—the prisoner only obtained one truck of carrots—I have not got the consignment note—I followed the carrots up to London—the carrots were sent to the Downham Station on the Thursday, and I came up to London on the Monday—it was on the Monday I saw the prisoner—I believe it was the 4th November—in consequence of the letters I received, I loaded three trucks of carrots, consigned one of them in the name of George Gould, and sent them to Brick Lane Station—I saw the prisoner on the platform on the 4th November, and did not see him again till he was in custody—I went to Hatton Garden a fortnight before I first saw Gould—I saw it was a milk shop then, but I did not see the prisoner there—it was in consequence of his saying he was a respectable cow-keeper, and promising to give me a cheque, that I parted with the carrots. The carrots left Downham at 7.20, and I left at 5.45—the carrots went to Brick Lane, and I went to Kings Cross.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You never got the money for the carrots? A. No—the carrots were under my control until I saw the prisoner, and consented to let him have them—I should not have let him have them if I had not thought he was a farmer at Barking—I did not know him by the name of Bristow.
WILLIAM VAUGHAN (Policeman R 17). I have been on duty at Barking for seventeen years—I do not know the prisoner as a farmer there—I know the district for miles round—he could not be a farmer there without my knowing it.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know Surrey Terrace, Surrey Street, Barking Road? A. Yes—I do not know that those houses belong to the
prisoner—I have made inquiries and they belong to his son—I know everybody who keeps cows at Barking, in consequence of the cattle plague. There is a common at Barking where a large number of cows feed—every-body has a right to turn out cows on it. I am prepared to swear that the prisoner has no cows on that common—I am stationed about three mites from the common—I pass that district several times during the week—there are several hundred cows on the common—I will swear that the prisoner never had any there. There is no Marshman here that I know of—the common is several miles long—I don't know everybody that turned out cows in October and November.
Cross-examined. Q. When were you at Barking last? A. I never was at Barking.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. A cattle dealer—I have been a cattle dealer and a commission agent for thirty years—I have been in prison once, about three years ago—for receiving commission for a quantity of sheep—I was employed to buy the sheep, and I received 4l. 10s. commission—the consequence was, they said I was a receiver, and I had eighteen months at Manchester—I have never been in prison before or since.
Cross-examined. Q. How? A. He went away with some in a handkerchief—I gave them out of my pocket and he put them in a handkerchief—I did not see him receive the truck-load from the station—he took some carrots out of the truck—he took away a handkerchief full—I only saw the samples go away, not the bulk—he took a good many—more than six.
The following witnesses were called for the Defence.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known him? A. Three years—I have worked for him the last five months—when I first knew him he kept a coffee shop—I am the son of the witness Day who has been called—I have not seen the prisoner constantly—I have been away eighteen months at Showbridge, working at a factory—I don't know what he was doing during that eighteen months—five months ago I saw him in his shop in Charles Street—he has a shop and parlour there—I believe he pays 20l. a year for them—he sells eggs and milk, and sometimes country bread—he has cows—I always thought that was a farm—I have been down to his place in Essex—he has thirteen cows; I have seen as many as fifty cows round the premises there—I used to go down and fetch the milk up in the cart—I believe the cows were his, he had the milk—Surrey Terrace is a row of eight new houses, surrounded by green land—I have seen cows feeding about there—I don't know to whom they belonged.
COURT. Q. Does the prisoner live at Surrey Terrace? A. Yes; No. 5—I don't know that his son lives there—ho has a field at the side of the house—he may buy the milk for all I know.
GEORGE BRISTOW . I am the prisoner's son—he carries on business in Charles Street under the name of Gould—four of the houses in Surrey Terrace belong to him—he has cows at Barking—I believe he has twelve or thirteen cows there.
Cross-examined. Q. Do the houses belong to you? A. Yes; I bought eight, and sold the prisoner four in August last—I bought the carcases—he wanted to go up to Charles Street and put them up for auction—he instructed some one to sell them, but he was taken into custody on the 11th, as the sale was to take place on the 12th, so the property was not sold—he was to pay me 900l. for the houses—I gave 700l. and I laid out another 700l.—I bought them of Mr. Minton—my father paid me 200l. in cash—he owes me the rest now—they belong to him now—I am living in one of the four, and let the others to tenants—his cows graze round his house—the common belongs to several persons—my father has no land there at all—he is a dairy farmer—he keeps pigs and kills them—he has twelve or thirteen cows—I have not got the title-deeds of the property here, they are at the solicitor's.
COURT. Q. How long has he kept cows? A. Since August last—he bought them of a man named Barnes—I was not present at the purchase.
MR. RIBTON. Q. What are you? A. A retired grocer—I was a bankrupt about three and a half years ago, but it was superseded—I paid my creditors—some of them I paid 10s. in the pound and some 2s.—Mr. Nash was my solicitor under the bankruptcy.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it of the prisoner you took the house? A. Yes; on the last Monday in August—I pay him 10s. a week—I have not got the rent-book here—I have seen Mr. Phipps of Holborn, once—I went there for Mr. Gould to tell him that he wonld call and settle the account—I did not say that I was a solicitor or a solicitor's clerk.
MR. COLLINS. Q. You said you wanted to settle something? A. Mr. Gould wished me to offer Mr. Phipps money—I was to pay 2l. down, and 2l. a week, and they would not take it.
COURT. Q. Had you the money with you? A. Yes—I think it was the beginning of October before the prisoner was taken into custody—he lives at No. 5, and I lived at No. 6; but since that I have moved—I have had goods from a Mr. Allen and have not paid for them—the amount was 15l.—I have settled with my creditors.
WILLIAM BARNES . I am a cattle dealer, and live now at Water Lane, South Hackney—about four or five months ago I sold the prisoner some cows—I sold him one first and five or six afterwards—I believed him to be a dairy farmer at Charles Street, Hat ton Garden, also at Barking.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you known him before? A. No—I have seen him at Barking twice—I have never been by any other name—I went down for the money for the cattle—they were 16l. each—there is 7s. owing now.
GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, December 19th, 1867.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. SEYMOUR, Q.C., with MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence. GUILTY .— Fifteen Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Recorder.
GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
98. GEORGE WILLIAMS (19) and HENRY CLARKE (24) were indicted for a burglary in the dwelling-hoase of Henry John Wayland, and stealing therein one pepper-box and other articles, his property, to which they PLEADED GUILTY . Williams was further charged with a previous conviction, to which he PLEADED NOT GUILTY.
JOSEPH SMITH . I am a warder of the House of Correction, Cold-Bath-Fields—I produce a certificate—(This certified the conviction on his own confession of George Williams on 5th December, 1865, at Worship Street Police-court, of larceny.—Sentence three months). I had the man named in that certificate in my custody—the prisoner is the person.
GUILTY.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment. CLARKE (who received a good character and was recommended to mercy by the prosecutor), Six Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Justice Lush.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
MARGARET GOLDING . I am single, and live at 11, Colling wood Street, Woolwich—I am the mother of the deceased, Mary Golding—she was one year and nine months' old—for six weeks prior to its death I lived with the prisoner as man and wife—on the 9th October I had occasion to go to London—I left home at half-past ten in the morning, leaving the prisoner and the baby in my room—he was to take care of it—I returned at four o'clock—when I came in the prisoner was sitting down with the child on his lap, and it was eating some bread-and-butter—I saw a bruise on the child's forehead, and asked him how it happened—he said he went down stairs for a jug of water and left the child on the chair, and it fell off the chair—he said it was on its face when he came up that he took the child up and gave it some bread-and-butter—I made some tea and the child had some, and ate some fish and bread-and-butter—it was not a healthy child—I undressed it that night—I did not observe anything about her arms,
not till next morning—I observed nothing that night, except the bruise on the forehead, and that was not very large then—about the size of a shilling—next morning between eleven and twelve, when I washed it, I saw that the bruise was getting much larger and darker, and I observed what looked like finger-marks upon the arm, like the check of finger-marks on both arms—there was no one in the room at that time but myself—the child eat a good breakfast that morning—about half-past one she took a fit, and died about two o'clock—I don't know whether it was a fit or a convulsion—I never saw any one like it before—I went for Dr. Pearl, who had attended me off and on since I have been at Woolwich—I went again at six o'clock and saw him; and I and Mrs. Barrett, my landlady, went to the police—Mrs. Boyce lives in the next room to me—I heard nothing from her about the child when I came home that day, not till seven or eight hours after it was dead, between eight and nine in the evening.
Cross-examined. Q. Before she told you anything, was it well known in the house that the child had received an injury on the head? A. Yes—I have known the prisoner about six months altogether—I had been living with him six weeks—he had been in the habit of coming to my place and seeing me and the child—he was always kind and attentive to the child; he treated it with the greatest kindness, and me likewise—when I went out on the morning of 9th October, I put the child in bed along with him—I had left her once before in his care—he said he would not go out till between three and four that day, and I said I would be back by four at latest—he is a journeyman baker by trade—he had been out of work for four weeks—when 1 returned at four he said he had been out, but not for long—he did not say how long—he said he had put the key under the door, and he believed the child had been asleep since he had been out; that he had put it to bed before he went out, and left it asleep—we were in the habit of putting the key under the door if either of us were out—he said that when he returned he found the child tolerably well; that he went down to get some water and put the child on the chair, and when he came up she was on her face—he knew that I had a child before we lived together, and he told me it made no difference—that he saw I was a sober young woman, and good to my child and saw to my home, and he would do the same by the child as he did to me, and he did as far as laid in his power—he was in the habit of clapping his hands together to please the child in playing with it; I had a little girl minding her, and he used to make her laugh because he talked to the child very much in his own language—it was very fond of him; she would go out of my arms to him, and likewise the girl's—he was in the habit of seeing the child before he lived with me, and bringing her things—he never said a cross word to the child, or illtreated it in any way in my presence.
MARY BOYCE . I am the wife of Joseph Boyce, a shoemaker—in October last I lived in the adjoining room to Margaret Golding—on the day before the child's death my attention was called to the door of Mrs. Golding's room—ever since the prisoner has lived in the house, with the exception of the first few days, he used the child very cruelly—on the day previous to its death I was going down for a jug of water, and I stooped down and looked through the door—I looked through a hole in the door, believing it to be the keyhole, and I do believe it was the keyhole—I could not be positive—I looked through some hole—I had heard the child crying—I heard it being beaten before that—I am quite sure of that—the prisoner knows I am—hearing this I looked through the door and saw the prisoner
shake the child like that (with both hands), and throw it out in that way (forwards), but where it fell I could not say-he held it in front of him when he shook it—he was at the corner of the fireplace with his back to the fireplace, standing up—he was not facing me, his side was towards me—I could see the child and him distinctly—I saw the child leave his arms, but I could not see where it fell—I don't know much about the room—I never went into it but once all the time the prisoner lived there—as you enter the room the door goes back on your left; the bed is not on the right, it stands up against the wall, on the other side by the window—I could not see the bed—I did not look through the hole many minutes—I spoke to the prisoner—I scolded him from the landing, which I have repeatedly done, for ill-using the child—I called him a vagabond, a wretch, and several names; he gave me no answer, he never insulted me—about a quarter of an hour after this he went out out of the room and locked the door—he stopped out about an hour and a half—he then returned-the noise I heard before looking through the door could not have been a clapping of hands, it was so long repeated, ever since the prisoner has lived in the house—I am quite sure he was beating the child that morning, because it cried and sobbed—I have mentioned this ever since the prisoner has been in the house—I mentioned what I saw on this morning to another witness in the case the same day when I came up out of the yard, it was Mary Barrett.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been living in the house? A. Fifteen or sixteen months—I believe it to be the keyhole that I looked through, but I can't say positively, because they seemed to say that I could not see through the keyhole—I said before the Magistrate that it was the keyhole—I am aware that the Coroner and some of the Jury went and examined the place to see whether they could see anything through the keyhole—I am not aware that they said they could not see anything through the keyhole-they said they could not see a sufficiency—I don't doubt that there is a large slit in the door, someway under the keyhole, for a panel has been broken out since I lived in the house—it was not broken on the day in question, months before—I don't know whether it was broken after this day—I am not living in the house now—it was broken on the day in question—I believe it to be a crack, so they tell me—I don't know—in my excitement I could not say whether or not there was any other aperture than the keyhole—I know the panel was broken out months before, and put in again—no doubt there was a crack—I might have been better through that than through the keyhole—I don't believe it was throgh the crack I looked—I am not living with my husband—he is in London—I have separated from him nearly three years, and have been living with somebody else about eighteen months—that is the only person I have lived with since I left my husband—I go by my own name, my husband's name, Boyce—I always went by that name in this house—I did not go by the name of Coventry-my rent-book was made out in that name, but I never took that name or went by it—Welham is the name of the man I live with—he is not living in that house now—he was at the time—I have never said of the prisoner that I hated the b—beast—I have nothing to hate the man for—I have called him many names, I dare say, when I have been vexed—I have not called him a beast—I have called him a vagabond and a b----it was only for ill-using the child—he was a very civil man—I never said I wished I could hang him—I should be sorry to do it—on my oath I never said, in the presence of Mrs. Golding and Mrs. Barrett, that I wished I could hang him, that I hated the
b----beast—I left the house because I told the landlady that if he did not leave off ill-using the child I should have to leave, and she could pot a bill in the window, and any one could look at the room while I was out—she did not give me notice, I swear that—I told her she could put a bill in the window, and she did.
COURT. Q. You say you could not see the child fall? A. No; I heard it fall, like as if it fell on its stomach.
JAMES BERESFORD RILEY . I am surgeon to the police at Woolwich. On Thursday night, the 10th October, about half-past ten, I was called to see the child of Mrs. Golding; it had been dead, I should say, several hours—I examined it—I ascertained its age, a year and nine months—it was rather small for that age, a badly-nourished child—the greater part of its trunk, and limbs, and head were bruised all over; there were bruises on all the upper extremities, I mean the forehead and arms—a severe slap might occasion the bruises on the extremities and trunk, but not the one on the forehead which I saw, I remarked that particularly at the time; it was a prominent swelling, and was discoloured, like an ordinary bruise—it was about the size of half an egg—it appeared to be recent—they were all recent bruises—the child was in an atrophete condition, I found subsequently that it was diseased—I made a post-mortem examination in conjunction with my assistant—I first opened the head—I pulled down the scalp on to the face and found that the bruise that I had observed on the surface of the forehead permeated through all the textures to the bone—I removed the skull-cap, and on a portion of the brain, corresponding to the frontal bone and to the bruise, there was another bruise of a similar kind, corresponding to the external bruise—I found the brain generally gorged with black liquid blood, I would not call it extravasation, it is a condition that you frequently find in children, from growing development going on—on the first night of the examination I passed my finger into the windpipe to ascertain if any foreigu body had been lodged there, I did not discover any—I then took out the trachea and lungs together—I found the lungs in a very engorged condition, which is called hepatisation, that would assimilate it more to the condition of liver—the inference I drew from my examination was that the child died from irritation of the brain, the consequence of the bruise on the forehead; that I bef ieve to have been the direct cause of death; it would be sufficient to account for it—I could not see any other cause to account for death; I must qualify that to a certain extent; there was disease in the lungs of a very dangerous character, the result of inflammation either acute or chronic, I should say it was of a chronic character—I should think the cause of death was the bruise on the brain; had I not found that bruise, I might, in the absence of other symptoms, have been led to suppose that the hepatised condition of the lungs might have occasioned death, but the bruise was such an apparent cause that I naturally seized hold of that as the cause of death—I could not account for the death in any other manner.
Cross-examined. Q. Suppose you had found no bruise on the head, would you have attributed the death to the condition of the lungs? A. I can scarcely bring myself to think so in so sudden a case—there is no doubt on my mind that the bruise on the head caused death—that might be caused by a fall from a chair—the skin is tender in children—a slight thing would leave a bruise in so thin a child—I don't think the bruises I saw were caused by the child falling about the floor; if it was standing up and fell on the floor that portion of the body that came in contact with the
ground might have a bruise, not such as I saw on the forehead, but the others—there were several bruises all over—it would necessitate six, seven, or eight successive falls, or more, to produce them—some of them might have been produced by a fall or falls.
MR. COOPER. Q. You know the height of a common chair, do you think one fall from that down on the ground would cause such a bruise on the forehead as you observed? A. It might do so.
JOHN STEPHENS (Policeman 137 H). On 15th October I went to 4, Lion Square, Whitechapel—I found the prisoner there—I told him I was about to take him into custody—he said, "Do you come from Woolwich?"—I said, "No, it is for causing the death of Mary Golding at Woolwich"—he was about to say something, and I cautioned him to be careful what he said, as I should use it in evidence against him—he said, "All right; on Wednesday the child had a fit while the mother was gone to London. I never ill-used the child, I only slapped it once or twice on the arms and legs; it fell off of the chair; it had been bad for some time"—on the way to the station he said, "The child was very dirty and often had fits."
CHARLES MOLLOY . I am a grocer, and live at 57, Beresford Street, Woolwich—I was one of the Coroner's Jury—on the day of the inquest, I think it was 5th November, I accompanied the Coroner to the room occu-pied by the prisoner, between twelve and one o'clock—I examined the door—it had a keyhole—there was an aperture below the keyhole of, I should say, about a quarter of an inch in width, and six inches long—that hole was not close to the keyhole; I should say six or seven inches below it—it was a crack, a sunken panel—I looked through that hole—I could see this side of the fire-place, the window, and several of the jury who were in the room—I heard Mrs. Boyce's evidence on tho inquest—I understood her to say that she looked through the keyhole—nothing could be seen through the keyhole, but the projecting wall from the fireplace.
Cross-examined. Q. You did look through the keyhole? A. Yes, and so did the Coroner, and we only saw the projecting wall of the fireplace—I then called his attention to the aperture below—that was about six inches horizontal along the door—you could not see the whole room through it—about three parts of it.
ELLEN BARRETT . I live in the same house as the prisoner—I remember the death of the child—I don't remember seeing Mrs. Boyce during that day—she did not make any communication to me that day; she did a few days before—she made a statement to me after the child's death, as soon as it was dead, the same day.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you at home on the 9th? A. Yes, in the kitchen—I did not hear the child scream, or hear any beating—I was out for about an hour that morning, from nine till ten—after ten I was at home all day—I am quite sure that during all that day Mrs. Boyce did not tell me she had seen any ill-treatment through the keyhole—she did not mention anythiug about it till after the child's death—the prisoner was very kind to the child during the time he lived with me—I keep the house—he was always kind to the child, and to the mother, in my presence—my husband gave Mrs. Boyce notice to leave—I am sure of that—I knew her by the name of Boyce—she went in the name of Coventry—she had her things and her rent-book in the name of Coventry—I don't know that the prisoner went out on the 9th—I live in the kitchen, down stairs—he occupied the front up stairs—my room is not exactly under his, but under Mrs. Boyce—it is a very small house
—ift here was any screaming in his room I might have heard it—I should have heard the child cry, if it did cry—I did not hear it cry that day, no more than a whimper when the prisoner was going out—I saw him come in—he came and spoke to me in the kitchen—that was about four o'clock—I did not see him fetch some water—my husband did—the day the child died I heard Mrs. Boyce call the prisoner a b----beast, and she made use of a very bad expression, and said she would go as far as the law would allow her, and she wished he would hang at Newgate.
MR. COOPER. Q. Did she say what for? A. For beating the child—she made use of very bad language—she said he was the cause of the child's death, and she would have him hanged for it.
The prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate was read, it detailed at length what happened to the child, that it fell from the chair while he was absent from the room to fetch some water, and in that way received the injury, and denied ever having ill-used it in any way.
The prisoner received a good character. NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WILLIAMS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES CORNISH . I am in the service of Henry and Alfred Bessemere, at their iron and steel works—I saw about fifty fathoms of chain, belong-ing to them, and worth 15l., on the wharf by the waterside, close to the edge of the top of the bank above high-water mark—it weighed about half a ton—I missed it next morning, and saw the mark where it had been coiled, and of its being taken to the water and taken off by a boat. I Shortly afterwards found it in the possession of the police—I never saw the prisoner before.
JOHN CAVILL . The prisoner and another man came to our premises at Deptford Green with a horse and cart, and eight or nine hundredweight of chain—I asked the prisoner where he got it—he said, "I dragged it up in the river"—I said, "How do you suppose it came there unless it was put there?" and asked him why he did not take it to the water-bailiff—he said, "Because I should get nothing for it"—I had received instructions from the police—he asked me 30s. for it—I offered him a sovereign and he accepted it—I communicated with the police, and the chain was given to Messrs. Bessemere.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I ask you 3l. for the chain? A. You might have—I did not say, "3l.! it is half worn-out, I will give you a sovereign for it."
GEORGE ROBERTS (Thames Policeman 46). On the morning of 25th May I received information, and traced marks down the river bank—about twelve o'clock the same day I saw the prisoner and two others in a boat off Greenwich College—I examined the boat, and saw traces of a chain across the gunwale—I found the chain at Cavill's shop, and took possession of it.
FREDERICK BARNARD (Police Sergeant 19 R). I received information and took the chain from Cavill's to the station-house, and from thence to the prosecutor's—I looked for the prisoner from 25th May to 7th November, but could not find him, though I travelled pretty well all Kent—he returned to Greenwich after the hop-picking, and I found him there on 7th November.
Prisoner's Defence. I saw a man in a boat, and asked him for a passage over. He asked me if I wanted a job, as he had hooked a chain that morning, and got five or six fathoms of it into the boat. I got a stick and hooked it up. I aferwards told Smith about it, and we took it to the west end of the college and landed it on a wharf. I saw them next day and asked them if they had sold it; they said no, and asked me where they could get a cart and horse—I recommended them to a man named Murphy. Going along Bland said, "You might put the price on the chain for us." We went to the blacksmith, and asked 3l. for it; he said that it was half worn-out, and gave us a sovereign for it. Bland gave his name Charles Bland; we then had a pot of ale.
GUILTY of receiving. — Eight Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. DOUGHLAS conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM GRAHAM NOAKES . I live at Providence Place, Old Woolwich Road—I know the prisoner—on 4th November I went with him to go to the Thames Embankment to look at some timber which I pointed out to him—I saw him a few days afterwards, and he told me he had bought a lot of the timber in the auction, and wanted a cheque on account—I gave him a crossed cheque for 20l., payable to Mr. Gardiner or bearer—I saw him next day—he said that he had been to Mr. Gar-diner, who he supposed did pot keep a banking acccount as he wanted an open cheque—I destroyed the crossed cheque, and gave him an open one—I saw him next day in the Trafalgar Road, and asked him if he had seen Mr. Gardiner, and paid him the cheque—he said yes, and that he had the eceipt—he fumbled in his pocket, but could not find it—he said, "I have left it at home, you shall have it to-morrow"—I called at his house, but did not see him till 19th November, when I found him at the Ship and Billet, East Greenwich—I said, "You scoundrel, give me the money"—he said, "What money?"—I said, "Give me the money"—he gave a grin, and said that he had spent it—I immediately applied to a Magistrate for a summons.
Prisoner. Q. When I had been to Mr. Gardiner's, where did you meet me? A. At the corner of Parliament Street—you did not tell me that you would not do business with Mr. Gardiner.
EDWARD JOHN GARDINER . I am an auctioneer, of 42, University Street, Tottenham Court Road—the prisoner called at my office—I do not remember on what date—and asked if we had any timber unsold from a sale I had had at the Thames Embankment, on 21st October—I think he mentioned Mr. Noakes, of Greenwich—I told him I had no timber left for sale—he never showed me a crossed cheque, purporting to come from Mr. Noakes, or any cheque at all—we had nothing to sell, and told him we could not do business with him.
—this cheque was presented to me for payment—I cannot say by whom—I paid it.
Prisoner's Defence. I went to Mr. Gardiner about the timber. He said that he had not got any, but was going to have a sale in a fortnight or three weeks. Mr. Noakes said, "You have had a good deal of trouble, if you think you can get any I will give you money to buy it in your own name." I asked him to give me an open cheque, as I could not get it at Mr. Gardiner's. He said that he had not got an open cheque in the house, but he went and brought one, and gave it to me, and said that I must refund it when I got the goods. He told me to get some timber, and I went into the country. After I returned I met him, and lent him half a crown. I met him again next day, and he asked me to lend him 7s. 6d., saying that that would make half a sovereign. I never saw him again till I met him at the Ship and Billet, when he put himself in a passion, and would not let me speak to him, but fetched a policeman, without asking me whether I had got the money or not. He actually lent me the money to do myself good for the winter, and then gave me in charge for stealing it—if he had asked me for it in a proper form I should have endeavoured to pay him.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. SLEIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE HOLLOWAY . I live at Plumstead, and am in the employment of the Woolwich Steam Packet Company—I knew the prisoner last July—I lent him a sovereign—he came afterwards, he handed me a cheque for 5l., and said, "I owe you a sovereign; I will pay you with this cheque"—I gave him 4l. change—I should not have parted with my money if I had not believed it to be a good cheque—I handed the cheque to another person, and afterwards received it back—a few days after I received a letter from the prisoner, in consequence of my writing to him—I do not know his handwriting.
RICHARD RIXON . I know the prisoner—I know his writing—this letter (produced)—is in his writing—I have no doubt that the cheque is also in his writing. (Letter read. "Dear Sir,—I have received a letter to say they cannot pay the draft which I have given you, although my broker gave me authority to draw it, and if you will hold the cheque I will pay you the 5l. and expenses.—E. V. Arbuckle, Ship Hotel.")
THOMAS FRANCE . I am head waiter at the St. James's Restaurant, Regent Street—some time in September the prisoner came in and had his dinner there—he asked if I could cash a cheque for him—that is the cheque (produced)—the manager declined to cash it, and he said he would go to his club to get it cashed—I said I would send one of the porters for it—I asked him "What club?" and he said, "The Army arid Navy"—I sent a man named Lloyd, and he came back with it—the prisoner then gave me a card—I sent Lloyd again, and he returned with five sovereigns—I deducted the amount of his dinner and gave him the change—I saw him again about three weeks or a month after—the cheque was not returned for some time—I did not see him after that.
Prisoner. Q. Did you say, "Can I send it anywhere for you?" A. No. did not—you said, "I will go to my club and get it cashed," and I said, "I will save you the trouble of going, I will send one of the porters."
CHARLES LLOYD . I am in the employ of the St. James's Restaurant—the last witness gave me a cheque to get cashed at the Army and Navy Club—I did not get it cashed at first, and brought it back—I afterwards took it back with a card Mr. France had given me, and I brought five sovereigns back, and gave them to Mr. France.
WILLIAM DEALEY . I am the head waiter at the Army and Navy Club, and have been N there eleven years—the prisoner is not a member of the club—his brother, Captain Arbuckle, of the Buffs, is a member—this man I don't know at all—the witness Lloyd brought me a cheque, which I afterwards cashed—it was paid into the Union Bank of London—it was returned there, and then to the Army and Navy Club—I thought that it was Captain Arbuckle, I should not have cashed it otherwise—I did not know his Christian name.
RICHARD RIXON . I reside at Beresford Square, Woolwich, and am a bookseller—I have known the prisoner some years—he called on me on the 18th October—he owed me 3l. 5s.—he said, "I owe you a little account, I wish you would take it out of this"—he handed me a cheque for 5l.—I gave him a receipt and 1l. 5s. change—this is the cheque (produced)—it is in his handwriting—I thought at the time that he had authority to draw it—it was returned unpaid through my bankers.
CHARLES ELLIS . I am barman at the Globe public-house—Mr. Moore is the landlord—on Sunday the 27th October the prisoner came there and had his dinner—while he was having it he gave me this cheque—he asked me to go and ask the governor to change it for him—I did so, and master gave me 4l., and asked if he should deduct a sovereign, and he said, "Very well"—Mr. Moore gave me the money, and I gave the difference to the prisoner.
JAMES ALFRED MOORE . I am the landlord of the Globe—on Sunday the 27th October the last witness handed me this cheque—I deducted a sovereign and gave him 4l.—I did not see the prisoner—I believed him to be Captain Arbuckle.
AUGUSTUS WALTER WEEDON . I am a clerk in the employment of Messrs. Cox and Co., Army Agents, Charing Cross—Captain Arbuckle of the Buffs is a client of ours—these four cheques (produced) were presented to us, and we refused payment—we have no authority to meet such cheques—I never saw the prisoner till I saw him at the police-court—I can't say whether the prisoner has drawn on his brother at all.
Prisoner. Q. When I was apprehended I was in my father's house? A. Yes—I read the warrant at the station.
Prisoner's Defence. My brother is absent in India. He gave me permission to draw on him for 30l. or 40l. I drew a cheque and gave it to Mr. Holloway, and I wrote a letter to Messrs. Cox, begging them to meet the cheque. I said that I had 40l. I drew two more cheques, and heard nothing of them till I was arrested. I drew on my brother, and I should not put my own name. I never represented myself to be Captain Arbuckle
of the 3rd Regiment. None of the gentlemen wrote to me aboul the cheques not being paid.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN IRELAND (Policeman A R 339). I took the prisoner, and found on him various papers, and among them these drafts of letters. (The first of these was dated 29th November, from G. Collins and Co. to Messrs. Warner, requesting to be supplied with six of their patent closets, No. 148 1/2; the second was from Messrs. Warner to G. Collins and Co., referring to their catalogue, and requesting to be informed of the price of the closets required; the third was dated 2nd December, from G. Collins and Co. to Messrs. Warner, naming 3l. 10s. as the price, and signed Thomas Driver.)
Prisoner. Q. When you took me to the station, where did you go? A. To your place—I did not find those documents on a shelf there, but on you.
COMPTON WARNER (continued). I have heard those letters read, these are copies of them, which I received—this other letter is in the writing of one of my clerks—in consequence of the letter of 2nd December I furnished some water-closets, value 15l., to Jackson, my carman, to take to Collins and Co.
JOHN JACKSON . I am carman to the prosecutors—on 3rd December I received six water-closets to be delivered to Collins and Co., 2 and 3, King's Place, Borough, with certain directions—when I got to Stones End, which is opposite King's Place, I saw the prisoner—he was dressed like a plasterer—I told him I had got six water-closets, and I had got to take the money—he said, "All right, get them out"—he helped me to get them out of the cart, and said, "I will pay you"—another man assisted us, and I delivered them at King's Place—the prisoner said, "Jump up, we must drive to Mr. Collins's office in Cannon Street"—he jumped up into my cart, and we went to 118, Cannon Street—he went in, and I followed him to the place—he then said, "I have made a mistake, I have come to the wrong place"—we came down and looked in several doorways to see if we could see the name of Collins—he said that he had only been to the place twice, and he forgot where it was—he looked into a public-house opposite, and said that that was the house he used, but we did not find him—the prisoner said that his workshops were in Blackfriars Road, and if I went there there would most likely be some one there who would pay me—I went with him to Green and Collins's, Blackfriars Road—he asked a woman if Mr. Collins was in—she said, "No, he has not lived here for two years"—he told her that it was wrong—she said that she had lived there two years, and she was certain he had not lived there—I told him I must have the closets back, and drove off to King Street to get them—he said that it was more than his place was worth to let me have them
when we got there the place was shut up—I then went to my employers I—next morning I went to King Street again, and saw the prisoner loading a van—he was dressed as before—I followed the van, and then went I home, and Mr. Compton Warner and I then went to a Magistrate, and the prisoner was given in custody—I should not have left the goods on account—I expected to receive the money.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you put the goods in, and did not the man help you? Yes—I swear it was you who helped me to put them in—there were two men, and you are one of them.
COURT. Q. What was being put into the van? A. Bricks—I followed it to Brandon House, Walworth—I looked all over the place next morning but could not see the water-closets.
Prisoner. Q. Were there bricks or tiles in the cart? A. Tiles, made a mistake.
Prisoner's Defence. If you will look into the case aright, you will find it is nothing but perjury; I was never on the premises. I did not see the goods till the following morning. I told them when they put me in prison that they could have the things back or the full value, and my solicitor told them so; they were wanted for Alderman Challis's in the City Road, for some of his property which was repairing.
GUILTY . He was farther charged with having been before convicted
WILLIAM ACKRILL (Police Sergeant 15 F). I produce a certificate—(Read—" George Collins convicted at'Clerkenwell, January, 1862, of receiving stolen goods.—Imprisoned Three Months.")—I was present, the prisoner is the man.
Prisoner. You are mistaken—it was my brother. Witness. I can bring five or six persons to prove it.
GUILTY*†— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MESSRS. LEWIS and STRAIGHT the Defence.
WILLIAM RANSOM . I am chief clerk to the Registrar of the Southwark County Court—I produce a copy of the entries in the plaint book of the Court referring to the case of Joseph Murray v. Thomas Richard Robert Marshall Martin—the plaint was heard before Mr. Whitmore, on 10th December—I have seen him acting as County Court Judge for many years—this is under the seal of the Court—(the plaint was "Work done by plaintiffs wife 15s.")—I was present—the prisoner came to support the claim, and no one else—she was sworn in my presence by George Barnes, one of the ushers of the Court—she claimed 15s. for taking care of a house at 5s. a week for three weeks—in answer to her claim the Rev. Mr. Martin was examined, after which the Judge said to the prisoner, "Did you receive a letter?"—she said that she had never received it—I took notes by Mr. Whitmore's directions—he asked the prisoner whether she intended to persist in swearing that she had never received the letter; she
still persisted that she had never received it—Mrs. Martin was mentioned as the writer of the letter, and the contents of it had been discussed in the prisoner's hearing—the time was referred to; I think it was some time in August—having heard the evidence given by Mr. Martin, the Judge turned to the prisoner and said, "Once more I ask you have you received a letter? I caution you, that if these witnesses are produced before me, and they depose to these facts, I shall feel it my duty to commit you for wilful perjury; therefore, I again caution you, and in the event of your being indicted and convicted, your punishment will be severe; now do you persist in swearing that you never received a letter?"—she said, "I do persist"—his Honour ordered her to sit down, and directed Mr. Martin to fetch Miss Martin and Miss Adams—he left, and returned with them, and Miss Adams was placed in the box and examined as a witness—the prisoner was then in the plaintiff's box—Miss Martin was also examined but previous to going into the examination of those witnesses, the Judge said to the prisoner, "Before I proceed to examine these witnesses, do you persist in saying that you never received a letter?"—she said, "I never received a letter"—a particular letter was spoken to by the witnesses, and the Judge said to the prisoner, "Do you still persist?"—she said, "Yes, I never received a letter"—and while Miss Adams was giving her evidence, the prisoner burst out, "I never received the letter"—after they had been examined, she again declared that she had never received the letter, and his Honour then directed a prosecution.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Was this a plaint for services rendered? A. Yes, for work and labour done, and the judgment was given for the defendant—the prisoner could hear very well, for I was sitting close to her, and I submitted the questions to her.
COURT. Q. Was she told what the letter was? A. Yes, that it proposed that after the end of four weeks she was not to receive any pay, but if she liked to stop she might—she was asked most distinctly if she had received such a letter.
CHARLES JOHN FOOT . I am clerk to Mr. Chipperfield, the solicitor to the prosecution—on 14th December I saw the prisoner in Newgate, and served her with a paper of which this (produced) is a copy—I left a copy with her.
CHARLOTTE MARTIN . I am the wife of the Rev. Robert Marshall Martin—previous to July I occupied Rowell House, Bermondsey—I have known Miss Adams some time—I had a communication with her on 25th or 26th July, in reference to taking charge of Rowell House, and arranged with her to take charge of it for three weeks certain at 5s. a week—she went to reside there on 27th July, and we left her in charge—the first week ended on 3rd August, and I that day paid her 5s.; and on that day my husband and I and part of our family left London, my daughter remained, but not at that house—on 16th August I sent a letter to my daughter and I wrote to her again on the 19th, enclosing a letter to Mrs. Murray, which I begged my daughter to take to her—I ouly wrote that one letter to her—I returned to town on the last day of August—my husband saw the prisoner first, and I saw her on, I think, 10th September, she then demanded 15s. for the three weeks after 24th August (she had been in the house a month, and my daughter had paid her)—I said that she could not demand that, because iu my letter I had told her that she would not be required, and that if she stayed it would be for her own pleasure; she said that that had nothing to do with it at all—I spoke to my husband, and a few
days afterwards I gave her 10s., not acknowledging it as a debt—she said, "Thank you," and seemed satisfied.
CHARLOTTE MARTIN (continued). In the letter which I enclosed to my daughter for the prisoner, I said that I should not require her services after the 24th, but if she chose to remain in the house she coulcf do so.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. In point of fact, you said in the letter that you did not want her any longer, but if she chose to remain any longer she could do so? A. That I should not require her, but she could remain for her own pleasure if she chose—I am perfectly clear about that—no furniture belonging to us was sent into the house about the 24th—I did not go back to the house—we left it, and left the prisoner in charge of it, and took another.
MISS MARTIN (continued). In August last I remained in London when my father and mother left—I had seen the prisoner previous to 17th August at Rowell House—after I received this letter from my mother I saw the prisoner the same day, 17th August, and said that if she liked to stay another week and do some cleaning she would receive the 5s. for that week—I paid her 10s. on that occasion, my mother had paid her 5s. that would pay her up to the 17th—on Tuesday, the 20th, I received another letter from my mother, enclosing one for the prisoner, which I took to her that day—she asked me to read it to her, and I did so; the substance of it was that she would not be paid after the following Saturday, the 24th—she said that she liked the garden and the house—I was present at the County Court on 10th December.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Had you read the letter that your mother had enclosed for this woman? A. Not before I took it to her—it was in a sealed envelope—I opened it with her and read it to her—I had not read it before, nor did I state to her what my mother said in the letter on my own personal responsibility—I read what was in the letter, which was that she would not receive anything after the 24th—I think those were the exact words—when I went away she took the letter into her hand and I left it with her.
THE REV. ROBERT MARSHALL MARTIN . I live at Christ Church Parsonage, Bermondsey—I previously occupied Rowell House—I was an assenting party to the original arrangement with the prisoner, after which I left town with Mrs. Martin, and left my daughter in town—we returned on 30th August, and I saw the prisoner next day, the 31st, at Rowell House—on or about 10th September I saw her there again, and said, "Oh, Mrs. Murray, I will give you 5s. for an extra week"—she said, "5s.! Sir, there is 15s. due"—I said, "I think not; I think you had a letter from Mrs. Martin saying that if you stayed beyond the month it would be for your own pleasure, and you would receive no payment"—she said, "Oh, I told your daughter I should have 15s., and I shall have it"—I said, "I will see Mrs. Martin and she will come and speak to you about it—she said that she had not got Mrs. Martin's letter, it was at her own house—I saw her again next day, and she showed me the letter she had received from my wife, and finding that she could not read it I read it to her—it was to the effect that she would not be required beyond the three weeks, but if she stayed the four she would be paid the 5s. for that week, and if she remained beyond that it would be for her own pleasure—nothing else material passed—my wife and I were afterwards at the house together—my wife tried to
reason with the prisoner and she insisted that she made a different arrangement with my daughter—10s. was afterwards given to the prisoner, but not in my presence—about a month afterwards she came to the Parsonage and demanded 15s.—I reminded her that she had had 15s.—she said, "That was a present"—I reminded her of what Mrs. Martin had told her, and she said, "I shall have the 15s."—having done a good deal for her this winter, I became impatient and told her to go about her busiuess—I attended the County Court on 5th November from half-past ten till five, and saw the prisoner several times in Court during the day, but when the case was called on she did not answer—I cannot say whether she was there then, for I was sitting on the other side of the Court—I got a second summons, and the case was heard on 10th December.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. At which interview was the letter first referred to? A. About 2nd or 3rd September—the letter stated that her engagement would terminate on the 24th, and that after that she might stop in the house if she pleased—when she did leave we locked the house up—we could have given the key to the adjoining factory.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Was there an engagement that the key should be given to the adjoining factory? A. Yes; the house belougs to the factory, and their watchman used to walk round it at night.
MARY ADAMS . I live at 45, St. James's Row, Bermondsey—I assist in the Mission of Christ Church Parish—I have know the prisoner upwards of three years, and recommended her to Mrs. Martin in July to take care of the house—I know that she afterwards went there—I saw her there while Mr. and Mrs. Martin were in the country—I spoke to her in the garden—she told me that she had had a letter from Mrs. Martin, and that if she remained after a certain time she was to receive no more pay—she said something about three weeks, and that she should not stop if she was not paid—that was before Mrs. Martin returned from the country—after they returned I saw Mr. Martin, and at his request went to the prisoner's house, but she was not at home—I next saw her in the street about the end of September—she said that she had been to a lawyer, and he would have nothing to do with it, because it was such a small sum—I said, "There must be some mistake in reading the letter"—she said no, not on her part, I should see the letter; but I did not see it—I was requested to attend at Southwark County Court on 10th December, and I did so.
COURT to MISS MARTIN. Q. Did you make any fresh arrangement with the prisoner for anything beyond the month? A. No.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the prosecutor on account of her ignorance. — Nine Months'Imprisonment.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution and MESSRS. LILLEY and STRAIGHT the Defence.
MARY CATTERMOLE . I am a widow—I have known Mr. Miller and the prisoner, his wife, seven years—they have four children—I was living in the same house with them previous to November—and on 1st November, between six and seven o'clock, I was getting up, and the prisoner came to the door of my bedroom and said that Mr. Miller was coming home to his breakfast—I had had no quarrel with her—I went into the kitchen and
was making the fire in a stooping position, putting wood on, when I received a dreadful blow on my head—I did not know that any one was in the kitchen—I sat down on a chair, took my hand away from my head, and said, "Oh, look at the blood"—the prisoner was then at the table, she came before me and cut me across the throat, and said, "What is that, Mrs. Cattermole?" I said, "Oh murder!"—she then cut me on the other side—I went to get the kitchen door open but found it was fastened—she pulled my hair and said, "You don't go alive"—she turned round to get the broom, and I got to the street door and found the chain up—she tore my hair—I got out of the house into the street, and was taken to a surgeon's and from there to the hospital—my hand was also wounded when I put it up to save my throat—I considered the prisoner very odd at times.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you attended her in her confinements more than once? A. Yes—at those times she has suffered terribly—she has not been out of her mind at her confinements, but she has afterwards—I know that she expects to be confined in January—her husband has tried to get her into an asylum.
THEOPHILUS MASON (Policeman). I found the prisoner held by two men in the passage—she seemed in anything but a rational state—I asked her what she had been doing—she said that she had been cutting Mrs. Catter-mole's throat; she was looking for the razor, but could not findi t—I took her to the station—I found a razor covered with blood on the kitchen mantelpiece.
The following were Witnesses for the Defence although called by MR. BESLEY:—
WILLIAM RANDLE , M.R.C.S. I live at 40, Newington Causeway—I have known Mrs. Miller eight years—I attended her in her first confinement, and in four confinements by myself or my assistants, and also for miscarriages—she has been off and on, well or ill, in a state utterly beyond self-control.
COURT. Q. From what? A. From the frequency of having children and the frequency of miscarriages—I do not mean self-control from passion—in connection with confinements and miscarriages there is a tendency to destroy even their own children—I have known a woman throw her infant to the other side of the room—I mean that the prisoner has been out of her mind—I have'called her husband's attention to it, and told him it was not safe for her to be at liberty—she is, I believe, pregnant now—I had seen her a few months before 1st November—I have advised the father and the husband that she should be immured somewhere, as she is not safe for herself or others.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Is not a tendency to insanity largely increased by approaching confinement, so that persons are liable to puerperal mania? A. That is afterwards; there is another condition in which a person is in a very low, weak state; that is connected with suckling, and that is her state—I am of opinion that she suffers from intermittent insanity.
MR. BESLEY. Q. When so suffering would she be answerable for her acts? A. I think it was an impulse perfectly beyond her control.
WILLIAM LEWELLIN , M.R.C.S. I live at Trinity Square—I know Mrs. Miller—I was called in nine or ten mouths ago, when she had attempted to commit suicide by taking strong ammonia—she was not then in her right
mind—it was with the greatest difficulty that I could pet her to take the antidote—I cautioned her husband on the subject, and have done so since, on more than one occasion—I have not seen her since that.
MR. LILLEY. Q. During all her life has she been subject to occasional aberrations of intellect? A. Yes, from her childhood up to her marriage—her mother was very weak in mind, and her brother, who died at twenty, was all his life subject to insanity; he was confined in Dr. Pond's Lunatic Asylum—besides taking the ammonia, the prisoner attempted to commit suicide when a girl at school—I got up and found a better on the table, saying that she was no more—we searched all day up and down the river, and at night she came home, and had not committed suicide—since her marriage she left her home for the purpose of committing suicide—she went away from her husband and went to Cheam, she got there about twelve at night, and was brought back at about four in the morning.
COURT. Q. Had you seen her recently? A. Every week, and I thought her husband and children would have been the victims, and up to 1st November I still thought that she was of unsound mind.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Do you recollect an instance when she made an attempt upon her husband, which was only overcome by his resistance? A. Yes.
NOT GUILTY, being insane.
MESSRS. POLAND and M.J. O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution, and MR. WARNER SLEIGH the Defence.
HENRY MILLER . (Policeman 108 L). On the night of 29th November, about ten o'clock, I was in Hercules Buildings, Lambeth, at the corner of the Hercules public-house—I went to the urinal there—I saw the prisoner—he and two more came from a beer-house on the other side of the road—one of them caught hold of my truncheon-case behind, and pulled me, and said, "Make haste, old fellow"—I said, "I can't for the moment"—I turned round, and the prisoner was making water against me, all down my side—I told him he was a dirty fellow—he still continued, and I pushed him away—he created a disturbance, and got a mob of people round, and I took him to the station—I called another constable, 203 L, to assist me, and as we were going to the station, about half-way up Tower Street, I saw the prisoner drop something—I immediately stopped—two little girls were behind, and I called to one of them to pick it up, and she picked it up and gave it to me—it was a parcel done up in this paper—I opened it at the station, and found it contained eleven bad shillings—the prisoner refused his name and address—I was in uniform.
Cross-examined. Q. Were there other persons in the urinal besides the prisoner? A. Only the two others that came across with him, I saw no others; when I went in it was empty; when I took him in custody he turned round and said, "You see my trousers are not unbuttoned"—that was after he had made the disturbance, which caused the mob to assemble—some woman there said it was a shame to take hold of the man so—I saw the prisoner button up his clothes—I gave him every opportunity to go away, but he would not go, and then I took him into custody: he was then outside the urinal—I have had Mint cases before, but not here—I
have seen coin wrapped up in paper like this—I suspected this contained counterfeit coin—I did not hear any one say any thing about what had been found—I only saw two little girls in the street—there was no crowd, they had left us before we began to walk to the station; nobody followed us—I saw the prisoner put his hand into his pocket and drop something, I was on his left-hand side, and the other constable on his right; it was his right hand that he put in his pocket; there was no struggle going on at the time—I did not see what was in his hand before he dropped it—the two little girls are not here, I did not see them afterwards, I saw them pick up the coin—I did not ask if they saw the prisoner drop it—I have inquired for them round the neighbourhood, but could not find them—they might have been a yard or two off when they picked it up.
MR. POLAND. Q. When you saw the prisoner drop the parcel did you say anything to the other constable? A. I said, "Stop, he has dropped something," and he said, "I see it"—I stopped immediately, and the little girl picked it up, and gave it me, as I had hold of the prisoner.
JOHN TRIGG (Policeman L 203). On the night of 29th November, I saw Miller with the prisoner in custody—I laid hold of the prisoner on the right side—as we went from the Hercules public-house down the Westminster Road, along Down Street, he put his hand to his breast and dropped something—Miller said, "What is that he has dropped?"—I said, "I don't know"—we stopped immediately—Miller looked round and said to a little girl, "Pick it up and give it to me"—she did so—we never lost sight of it—we then took the prisoner on to the station, and the paper was examined—I did not hear the girl say anything when she picked it up.
Cross-examined. Q. How came you to allow him to put his hand to his breast and throw it away? A. I did not know that he had anything in his hand till I saw it fall—I did not prevent him putting his hand to his breast—there were several persons following behind when it was dropped besides the two little girls—there was a crowd round when he was taken into custody—there was not a great many following to the station—there might be a dozen or more—my attention was first called to this by seeing him drop his hand—I did not hear Miller ask the girls if they saw the prisoner drop it—there was a lamp about six yards off—I saw the prisoner searched at the station, and two sixpences, a fourpenny-piece, and twenty pence found on him, all good money.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BROOOKE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
PHILIP REEVE . I am mate of the vessel Jane and Mary—on Tuesday, 10th December, between eleven and twelve o'clock, I was in bed in the bunk in the cabin—the cabin-boy was lying on the floor—the master and a friend came on board between eleven and twelve with the prisoner, who was the waterman—there was a locker alongside my bed, where the prisoner sal, and there was a purse on the locker containing 2l. 15s. 6l.—the master told the boy to prepare the supper—in consequence of what the boy said to me I went on deck and asked the prisoner if he had got the purse—he said, "What purse?"—I said, "The purse that laid oh the
locker"—he said he had not got it—I then went down into the cabin to put on my shoes, and while I was there he got into his boat and pulled away—the master ordered two oars to be put in the boat to pursue him, but before we could get them in he was out of sight—the master called out for the police.
Cross-examined. Q. How many men have you belonging to your vessel? A. Only me, the master, and the lad—she is a thirty-six ton vessel—the men who were loading were on board that day, but they did not go down into the cabin—I had seen the purse safe about five minutes before—I had gone to bed about nine or half-past, and had been to sleep—the master came on board about eleven—he asked me if I had got eighteenpence, and I said, "Yes"—the purse was in the cupboard, and I told the lad to get it out, and he got it out and laid it on the locker—it was a Mr. Fox that came on board with the master—he is a friend of his, and has been brought up with him—they are like brothers.
ROBERT BUCKINGHAM . I am cabin-boy on board the Jane and Mary—I recollect on Tuesday night last, between eleven and twelve o'clock, the prisoner came on board with my master and Mr. Fox—I got the purse out of the cupboard for the mate to pay him, and laid it on the locker—master told me to get the supper ready—I got out the meat and biscuit, and as I was doing that the prisoner rapped me on the shoulder, and asked me to cut him a bit of meat—I said it was not my place—he tapped me again and said, "Let me go up and look at my boat"—I stepped aside to let him go, and missed the purse—I said, "That man has got the purse"—I ran up on deck after him to stop him—my master ordered two oars to the boat and we pulled to the stairs, to see if we could find him, but he was gone—we did not call after him—we called for the police—I next saw him in custody on Wednesday morning—I know that there was 2l. 15s. 6d. in the purse, because the mate had shown it to me the same day—the prisoner was to have had his supper on board.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the mate lying in bed in the same cabin? A. Yes; it is a small cabin about twelve feet across and five feet in width—I laid out the supper in that cabin—the mate got up to run after the prisoner—I did not leave the cabin to fetch the meat and biscuit—I took them out of a cupboard in the cabin.
GEORGE HALL . I am master of the Jane and Mary—last Tuesday night I engaged the prisoner to row me and Thomas Fox to the vessel, and I was to give him eighteenpence and his supper—we went down into the cabin—while there I saw the prisoner take the purse—we went on deck after him as quickly as we could; but he went into his boat and got away—I shouted after him to stop, and went in our boat after him, but could not overtake him—I gave information to the police.
Cross-examined. Q. Who was in the cabin at the time? A. Fox, the mate, and the boy—I have stated before to-day that I saw the prisoner take the purse—what I said was that I saw him put his hand on something like a purse—I am positive I said that—I was sitting at the other side of the cabin, about six or eight feet from the locker—we ran up the ladder after the prisoner as quick as we could, one after the other, but did not overtake him.
THOMAS FOX . I am a mariner, and a friend of the captain's—on Tuesday night he invited me to supper with him on board the vessel—we went in a boat from the stairs—the prisoner rowed us—he was to have eighteen-pence and his supper, and he was to take me back on shore—while I was
cutting a piece of meat for supper the boy gave an alarm that the purse was gone; we all went up on deck after him, but he stepped into his boat and rowed ashore.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you known him for some time? A. I have—he has always borne the character of an honest man on the river—I found him at his own home on Wednesday morning the 11th, about twenty minutes past one—I only received information a short time before.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
109. JOHN PEARCE (21) , to unlawfully having counterfeit coin in his possession, with intent to utter it, after a previous conviction.— Five Years' Penal Servitude ; [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] and
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
ALICE AMELIA SIDE . I am the wife of Robert Henry Side, a grocer of 1, Bedford Street, Walworth—I knew the prisoner, I was present at his marriage on the 1st April, 1844, to Emmeline Weavill, at St. Peter's Church, Walworth—I was bridesmaid—they lived together after the marriage one year, when the first child was born; I lived with them some weeks.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you intimate with Miss Weavill? A. Yes, I knew her from childhood; her father kept a tobacconist's shop, near the Elephant and Castle, at the time she was married; they formerly kept an hotel in the City—I knew the prisoner a few weeks before the marriage; I understood him to be twenty-two years of age, twelve months younger than his wife; he was a medical student; we called him "the Doctor"—shortly after his marriage, I understood he was assisting a surgeon, in the Broadway, Westminster—the child was born at her father's house, where she was married from—I have not been living in the same parish since 1844—I was travelling with my brother before I married—I have been married eighteen years, and for the last seventeen years have been living where I am now—I have seen very little of the prisoner's wife lately, up to two years since, when I was engaged to go to Scotland in a divorce case against the prisoner.
MR. LILLEY. Q. When did you see her last? A. This moment as I came into Court—she is alive.
JAMES DANN (Police Inspector P). I produce a certificate of marriage, which I obtained from Emmeline Pearce, the prisoner's wife—I have compared it with the register at St. Peter's, Walworth, and it is correct (read).
CATHERINE PEARCE . I live at 9, Wellington Street, Newington Causeway—I went through the ceremony of marriage with the prisoner—I was a widow, and my name was Pearce then—I was married on the 2nd September
in the present year, at St. Mary's, Newington—we lived together until about five weeks ago, when he went to Wales—he described himself as a widower.
Cross-examined. Q. When was it he went away? A. I think on the 14th October—he came back again and remained with me till he was taken—I had no part whatever in giving him into custody—he treated me most kindly—I have four children by my former marriage—the prisoner was in a situation as an assistant to a surgeon, and contributed to the support of my family—this prosecution is not instituted at my request on the contrary, I am assisting his defence—he went into Wales for the purpose of attending to a gentleman's practice there for ft short time, with my consent.
ALICE AMELLA SIDE (re-examined). I have not seen the prisoner since I left him at Glasgow two years ago—his wife was then a witness in Court against him in a case of bigamy—he had a wife in Scotland, and had one year's imprisonment for it—he must have been aware at that time that she was alive; they were in the same Court together—it was at the Judges' Court at Glasgow—a much better Court than this, rather larger and better fitted up, more handsome in every respect—I was a witness—the prisoner's wife was in Court facing her husband—she was not called upon to speak, but merely to show herself—she was put into the witness-box to show herself, and I said she was the person to whom I was brides-maid—I knew the prisoner's name was George Pearce before his marriage—I know that the name of George Wortham Pearce was introduced into the register, and his wife knew it—I supposed that to be his name—I never heard him called anything but Mr. Pearce until his marriage—I did not know his Christian name till then—I did not know that Wortham was a fictitious name.
GUILTY .— One Month's Imprisonment.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, JANUARY 6TH, 1868.