CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
THIRD SESSION, HELD JANUARY 6TH, 1868.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX,KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, January 6th, 1868, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir WILLIAM SHEE , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Queen's Bench; SIR EDWARD MONTAGU SMITH , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; THOMAS SIDNEY , Esq., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN , Knt., WARREN STORMES HALE , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; the Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; ROBERT BESLEY , Esq., WILLIAM JAMES RICHMOND COTTON , Esq., and JOSEPH CAUSTON , Esq., other of the Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer, and General Gaol delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
ALLEN, MAYOR. THIRD 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, January 6th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
112. GEORGE STEPHENSON (40) PLEADED GUILTY to four indictments for embezzling and stealing various sums and articles of Thomas Alexander Layland, his master, having been before convicted of felony at this Court in July, 1861.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
113. HENRY BROWN (49), to embezzling 14l. I 8s. 6d. of Eustace Anderson and another, his masters, having been before convicted at this Court in November, 1851.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude . [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE BEST . I am an auctioneer in Coleman Street—on the 23rd October the prisoner was indebted to me for 23l. 10s.—on that day he called at my office, and said he had called to liquidate a bill of 23l. 10s., that he had not the means of paying me in cash, but he had some drain pipes lying at the Bricklayers' Arms Station which he thought might suit me, as I was building; and if I would buy them of him I could take the amount out of the purchase-money to liquidate that to which he was indebted to me—I consented to do so, and requested him to give me an inspecting order—he said he would go out and get the order; he returned in about an hour, and brought this bill, purporting to be drawn by James Mayhew, and accepted by James Smith—I noticed that it was wet when he brought
it to me—I asked whether he knew the drawer and acceptor—he said he knew them both very well, that James Mayhew was a contractor at Wandsworth in a very large way of business, and that Mr. James Smith, the acceptor, was a builder in a large way of business, whom he had known and supplied with goods for years—as the bill was damp, I asked him whether he saw them sign it, and he said he had seen it drawn and accepted, and knew both the men well—he said, "I don't want all the money to-day, but if you will just advance 3l., that would give you an opportunity if you like to make inquiries, and I can call to-morrow for the balance"—on his representation I gave him 3l. on account of the bill—I never saw him again until he was in custody, which was a week or more afterwards.
Prisoner. Q. You know my handwriting? A. I think so—my solicitor has a bill in his possession of yours—I can't say that I should know your handwriting if I was to see it—I cannot recognise any handwriting upon this bill to be yours—you had been to me about a week or ten days before you brought me this bill, when the other was dishonoured—when you asked me for the 3l. you offered me half a sovereign for the loan of it for a day or two—I must have been satisfied with the bill, or I should not have advanced you the 3l.—I advanced it believing your statement to be true; I advanced it on the bill—you have had money of me before—you told me that Mayhew was a large contractor for Lambeth parish, and had got sixteen or seventeen carts working, and that you had done business with him for years—I understand that the Mayhew alleged to be the drawer of this bill is not a contractor of Lambeth parish; his father and his son were, but not this man—I ascertained that about a week after you left the bill—I sent one of my clerks to Mayhew's place, and he brought me word that he had absconded, and that he was wanted for a barge load of bricks that he had stolen.
JAMES SMITH . I am a builder, of 3, York Place, Lower Wandsworth Road—I cannot read or write—I wrote nothing on this bill, or authorised any one to do so for me—I don't know the prisoner, I never saw him before he was in custody.
Prisoner. Q. You know Mr. Mayhew, don't you? A. Yes, I have known him several years—we were not great friends—he has not done a deal of business for me—he might have done a little job of 10s., when I wanted a horse and cart, nothing further—we have not been companions—I should not like to have him as a companion—I don't believe he has any horses or carts now—he used to have some—whether they were his or his father's I don't know—I have not seen him for the last five months.
JOSEPH WILLIAM FAWKE . I am a detective officer—I took the prisoner into custody—he asked if I had any authority to take him—I said I had—he said, "Have you a warrant?"—I said, "No, I have not, but I have received instructions from Mr. Best, of Coleman Street, for forging and uttering this bill of acceptance for the purpose of defrauding him of the sum of 22l. odd"—on the way to the station he said he had only borrowed 3l. of Mr. Best, and that the bill was all right, for he saw Mr. James Mayhew fill it up at a public-house at the corner of Fore Street, in the presence of a man of the name of Dowie or Dowey—he said he had never seen Mr. Smith in his life; he did not know him or where he lived.
Witness for the Defence.
about the bill—I believe this writing at the back to be Mayhew's writing—I saw him write it on the back of the counter—I think it was on the 23rd—it might have been the 24th—I can't tell whether Mayhew had at that time a contract for Lambeth parish—I know he had horses and carts at his place—he asked the prisoner as a favour to get the bell discounted for him, and he said if he could not get it done he would return it the same day—he took it away, and I never saw either of them since.
Cross-examined. Q. What part of that paper did you see Mayhew write? A. The back part—I saw him write, "James Mayhew, contractor, 72, Lark hall Lane," he wrote on this or some other paper, I can't say—it was on a piece of paper on the counter—it was on the back part of the paper that he wrote—I can't say what was written on the other side—I know he wrote on the back—I can't say that this was on the 23rd October, I rather think it was in October—I don't know what makes me think so—I don't know that Mayhew has been out of the way—I believe I was the first person who introduced Mayhew to the prisoner—I believe they were strangers before—I believe they knew each other, I can't say—I am assistant to the Sheriff of Surrey, and have been for thirty years; I mean I am a man in possession—I was not before the Magistrate—there was a remand, but I had not the summons in time to attend—I was away in possession at the time it was served.
COURT. Q. Were you asked to attend before the Magistrate? A. I was summoned to attend—I did attend, but I was too late, the prisoner was committed for trial—I was there on the Friday, and he was committed on the Thursday—I was at Guildhall before the prisoner was committed—I forgot that—I was not called—I know that Mayhew had horses and carts as late as October, four of five of them; and I believe he has got them now at his place—I believe I last saw him six weeks or two months ago—the carts are about the street with his name on them.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of uttering. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM TAYLOR . I am a haberdasher, of 44, Beech Street, Barbican—on 12th December, about eleven in the morning, the prisoner came to my place and produced a box of silk and ten reels of cotton, and asked me to buy them—he said he wanted 5½d. a reel for the silk, and 3d. a reel for the cotton—I paid him 6s. 6d. for the silk, which was not so much as he asked, and half a crown for the ten reels of cotton; that was what he asked for it—the whole sale value of property of this kind would be 37s. 6d. a pound; this was about a quarter of a pound—when the prisoner left I examined the property and made a communication to Messrs. Carlisle, believing it to be stolen—about two o'clock the same day the prisoner came again with five boxes of silk, and asked me to buy them—I paid him 1l. then, and asked him to come for the 14s. at four o'clock—I asked how he became possessed of them—he said some man had employed him to sell them, and he was to have 5 per cent, commission; he came again at four; in the meanwhile I had communicated with Cheshire, the officer, and he was concealed where he could see the prisoner—I paid him the 14s.—Cheshire was let out at the side door, and followed him—on 16th December the prisoner came again and brought 1lb. of black silk on ounce reels, and 14oz. of a different
make, and 1lb. of brown half-ounces—he said it was all right, a man he knew had got it to sell—he asked the same price I had given him before, 21s. a pound—I paid him 3l. 16s.—from marks on the boxes I was enabled to find out the owner—the prisoner promised to call the following day, but never came again—I asked him his address, but he did not tell me; he began talking about something else, and would not give me an answer.
Prisoner. Q. Will you swear I did not give you my address? A. Yes—you did not tell me you were always to be found at the Green Man, in Featherstone Street—you said you were in the habit of selling job goods for different parties for twenty years—you did not say you came from Mr. Wright, a linendraper in Whitecross Street—you said Mr. Wright told you you would be able to sell to me.
EDWARD CHESHER . On 12th December, in consequence of a communication from Mr. Taylor, I went to his establishment about four o'clock—I was placed where I could not be seen—I saw the prisoner, and when he went away I followed him for several hours, and eventually to 2, George's Row, Chequer Alley, Bunhill Row, a private house—I took him into custody on the 24th at the Green Man public-house, in Featherstone Street—I called him out and asked if his name was St. Ledger—he said yes—I said I was a detective, and should take him into custody for stealing and receiving two boxes of sewing-machine silk on the 16th instant—he said, "Sewing-machine silk? I don't know what you mean; I never had any sewing-machine silk; I don't know what it is; I never saw any"—I said, "Are you a dealer in silk?"—he said, "No"—I said, "Do you mean to say you never had any silk or sold any?"—he said "No, never"—I said, "Are you quite positive?"—he said, "Yes"—I then took him away—after I had got a little distance I said, "Do you know Mr. Taylor, of Beech Street, Barbican?"—he said, "Yes, I do"—I said, "Do you now mean to tell me that you have never had any machine silk or sold any to him?"—he then said, "I have"—I said, "Where did you get it from?"—he said, "I had it from a man in the public-house where you have just taken me from, but I don't know who he is, what his name is, or where he comes from; I don't ask questions of persons who bring goods to me"—I found that he lived in George's Row, in a little front room, a wretchedlooking place, I found no silk there or any property of this description.
Prisoner. Just at the moment he called me out I was drinking with a friend, and did not know what his business was, and hardly knew what I said. Witness. He was perfectly sober, he positively declared time after time that he had had no silk, and did not know what it was.
JOHN MOFFATT . I am a trimming-seller, of 2, Wentworth Street, Whitechapel—I know nothing of the prisoner—I never saw him till he was in custody—the silk produced is mine—I did not miss it till the 16th December—on the 13th I was having some alterations made at my place of business, and had to move this silk—I had 21b. of it sent to my place that day, and on the following Monday I was a pound deficient—I had not sold any of that pound of brown, and the black was taken from the warehouse while the alteration was being made—I can swear to this silk, there is my writing on this box, and my private mark is on these labels—the silk was safe at my place on Friday night, 13th December—I can't say how it was taken.
Prisoner's Defence. It is not very likely, if I was the man that stole or received these goods, I should go and offer them at respectable shops where I was known.
GUILTY of receiving. He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted at this Court, in September, 1849.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
SAMUEL OBEE (City Policeman 899). On the night of 20th December I was in company with Green, another officer, in Fenchurch Street—I saw the prisoner and watched him—I saw him follow a gentleman across the road, and as he got to the pavement he was close up to him, and when he drew his hand away from the gentleman I saw this handkerchief in his hand—the gentleman turned short round—I kept the prisoner in sight and told Green to get the gentleman—I followed the prisoner some little distance, and I saw him hold up the handkerchief, double it up, and put it round his neck—at that time Green came up to me—the prisoner walked on directly, turned round, and saw me and Green together, and ran away—we ran after him through different streets into Camomile Street—I hallooed, "Stop thief!" a gentleman who was coming along went to stop him, and he up with his fist and knocked him down; the gentleman got up again, caught him, and held him till I came up—Green came, up, we had a struggle, he tried to get away, we had to get the assistance of a constable in uniform, and the prisoner bit him through the coat—we at last got him to the station.
Prisoner. Q. Did I put my hand in the gentleman's pocket? A. I could not see your hand in his pocket, I saw you close behind him.
THOMAS CUSICK (City Policeman 880). On 20th December I was in St. Mary Axe—I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and followed the crowd that was following the prisoner, he was captured in Bishopsgate Street—he was very violent and tried to get away from the officers in plain clothes—I laid hold of him by the collar, and he turned round and tried to bite my hand—he did lay hold of my coat-sleeve, and I was obliged to strike him to make him loose his hold.
GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted of felony at the Mansion House, in November, 1866.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
NEW COURT.—Monday, January 6th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. COLLIS the Defence.
BERBETT LOUE . I reside at 13, Oxford Street—on 16th December the prisoner came in for half an ounce of tobacco, which was twopence—he paid me with a half-crown, and I gave him the change—I put the half-crown in the till—after he left I looked at it, and found it was bad—I then showed it to my master—the prisoner came in about a quarter of an hour after and asked for a cigar, which came to twopence; he paid with another bad half-crown—I called a constable and gave him in custody—I gave the two half-crowns to Mr. Koppenhagen—I think the prisoner was drunk.
Cross-examined. Q. How long after the prisoner left the shop the first time did you look at the half-crown? A. Directly—I did not see him come from a public-house opposite.
—on 16th December my assistant gave me a bad half-crown in the evening—I afterwards received another bad half-crown from her—I went into the shop and gave the prisoner in custody with the two half-crowns.
WILLIAMS LOBB (Policeman 73 C). I took the prisoner, and received these two half-crowns (produced) from Mr. Koppenhagen—the prisoner said, "I was never in the shop before"—at the station he said he bought half an ounce of tobacco—I searched him and found 6d. in silver and 3d. in copper, a purse, and two duplicates on him—I think he was drunk.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he give a correct address? A. Yes; he was afterwards admitted to bail by the Magistrate.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.
WIILIAM BRAMDON REED . I have kept a beer-house at 10, Bull Inn Court, Strand, going on for four months—I was a builder before that, and the latter part of the time on my own account—I have known the prisoner about twelve months—when I first knew him he was a builder, building some houses at Hackham—he was not in my employment—I had met him two or three times, not more—on 18th December I met him in Commercial Road, Whitechapel—I had not seen him for three months; he said, "Halloo! ain't that Reed?"—I said, "Yes"—he asked me how I was getting on, and said, "I have twopence in my pocket, we will go and have a pint of beer"—he paid for it, and I paid for the next one—he called me on one side, and showed me a shilling which he said was counterfeit, and that he had taken it; he asked me to pass it, I said no; he told me to put it in my pocket, and that he had something more to tell me—I paid for another pint of beer, and put the shilling in my waistcoat pocket—I had no other coin then—he then gave me a counterfeit half-crown, saying, "Here is half a crown, I can supply you with lots of them," and after that a packet containing shillings, saying that he could get me a thousand pounds for as many shillings, and a thousand shillings for as many pence, and that he knew people who had done it for years and got a good deal of money at it, and that I might make from 4l. to 5l. a week by being careful, but he likewise warned me that I might be found out the first time I tried it, or I might have gone on for years; that if I went in to pass any, and it was all right, I was to walk out with my hands behind me, and if it was wrong I was to take my hat off and scratch my head—I did not open the packet of shillings—I put it in my pocket—we left the Nag's Head, and went towards the City—going by a baker's shop, there was a little girl serving behind the counter, and he said, "I think one will go here;" he produced another half-crown, and told me to walk three or four doors off while he went in—he went in and an oldish man came in, the prisoner then picked up his half-crown, and came to me, and said, "Will you go in as my boy?"—I said, "No"—he still kept the half-crown, and we went on to the White Bear, and had two or three drops of ale there—I left him there and went home—I spoke to my brother-in-law next day, and in consequence of what he said I found out Mr. Brannan's address, and gave him the packet—the prisoner called at my place on Friday, the 20th, and told me he could get me some coin—he wanted some
money—I gave him a shilling, and we went to the Three Tuns, Aldgate, and had some drink, but he could not get any coins—I left him and went home, he making an appointment to meet me next morning—I saw Mr. Brannan next morning, and he gave me some directions—the prisoner met me at my own house, that was Saturday, the 21st, he merely called and had a glass of ale and left, and on the Monday or Tuesday he called again—we went out together, and he wanted 18s. to buy the coin—I said I would not give him 18s., but I gave him 5s.—we went down to Old Nichol Street, Spitalfields—he told me to go into a public-house and wait there till he came back—I went in, but came out immediately, and saw him go into a house in the same street—he handed me back the 5s., and said, "There is one delivery at a quarter-past four, and another at half-past eight," and he could have them then—we then went home—I saw him the same evening at about 6.30—he wanted 18s., but I did not give him any money—I had a parcel to take to a relation, and we went to Manchester Square—we went to a public-house, and he produced a pocket-book with a cheque for 6l. 10s., and this bill (produced), and an insurance paper for 400l.—he wanted me to take them and leave them with my relation as security for 18s.—I refused, and he said that be would sooner do it with a relative, because it would be safe, as he would not prosecute if the cheque was not met—he said that if I could get the money we would go down and get the coin, and by both working make 2l. or 3l., so as to be able to pay the money back by Thursday morning—I declined, left him, and went home—he called on me on the Friday, and I made an appointment to meet him on Saturday, the 28th—I saw Mr. Brannan again, and got further directions from him, and on Saturday, as I left the White Bear public-house, the prisoner tapped me on the shoulder; we went to the European and had a pint of porter—he produced a half-crown, and asked me to pass it—I said, "It is not good enough here"—we came out and went towards the West End—we met Inspector Brannan in the Strand—I touched him on the shoulder, and walked on—I afterwards passed Sergeant Ackrill, and gave him notice of it—I walked on, and they stopped between the prisoner and me and took him in custody.
Prisoner. Q. Is the beer-shop taken in your name? A. Yes—Mr. Scanlan, my brother-in-law, did not tell me that I should be paid for giving this information—he did not see Mr. Brannan first—I do not expect to be paid—I did not run away from Peckham—I did not finish my houses there—I paid my creditors—I showed you some writs on Christmas Eve—one was for a chimney-piece, and another for ironmongery—those creditors are secured—I did not tell you that I had knocked down Mr. Keen, the Sheriffs man, and ask you to go and square it for me—after leaving the City we went to Short's, a wine merchant's, and had something to drink—I did not see Brannan and Ackrill in there, but outside—you were stopped about twenty yards from Short's—I did not then run away—I left you—I was never in custody in my life—I did not pay Bull 9l. to square it—I do not know him—I did not ask you on the 28th to get me some coins, or some sovereigns, or tell you that I was going to pay my brewer in a day or two, and could slip a sovereign in among the others without it being noticed—I did pay ray brewer.
JAMES BRANNAN . On 19th December Reed came to me with Scanlan—they were both strangers to me—Scanlan told me he was a deputy chief constable of Lincoln, and I thought so from the papers he showed me—he gave me some bad half-crowns with tissue-paper between them—I saw
him again next day, and gave him directions, and on the next day, the 21st, he made a communication to me—I then saw him frequently, and was a couple of days waiting about in the neighbourhood—on Saturday, the 28th, I was waiting in the street with Ackrill, and saw the prisoner at a little before five opposite Somerset House—Reed pointed to him—I called Ackrill, and we took him in custody—I saw Ackrill take from his right coat pocket this bad half-crown (produced)—I followed Reed to his home, and took the prisoner there with me—I told the prisoner my name, and that I had received instructions to look after him as a dealer in counterfeit coin, and that he would be charged with the possession of that half-crown, and five shillings—he made no reply, but he said to Ackrill, "I am sorry for this, I did not think that Reed would round on me like this"—if those were not the words, they are the substance.
prisoner. Q. Had you the coins in your possession when you took me to the station? A. I had them locked up at home—Ackrill found a half-crown in your coat pocket outside the first time he searched you, and it was handed to me in the street—we took you into Short's to see if you had dropped anything, as Ackrill thought you had been there, but we found nothing.
Prisoner. Q. When did I use that expression? A. At the station—I did not say before Mr. Vaughan that it was when I found the half-crown.
Prisoner's Defence. On 18th December I found a small canvas bag in Whitechapel Road, containing the seven counterfeits produced. I met Reed in the evening, and lent him six out of the seven, telling him to be very careful, as they were very dangerous things for any one to have. I never told him to circulate them, and never circulated one myself. The seventh remained in my coat pocket till I was taken.
GUILTY .†— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
ANNIE WARREN . I am barmaid at the Waterloo Arms, High Street, Marylebone—on 21st November I served the prisoner with a half-quartern of gin, it came to 2½d.—she gave me a bad shilling, which I afterwards gave to Donovan—I told her it was bad—she said that she wondered where she took it from.
Prisoner. It was not me who gave you the bad shilling, it was the person who was with me. Witness. I took it from you, the other woman put down 2d., which was not enough, and then you paid—I gave you both in custody.
JOHN DONOVAN (Policeman 174 A). On 21st November the last witness gave the prisoner and another woman into my custody with this bad shilling (produced)—they were charged at the police-court and discharged—the prisoner gave her name Susan Brown.
WILLIAM BAYLET . I am barman at the Bromley Arms, Cleveland Street, Fitzroy Square—on 11th December, between three and four o'clock, I served the prisoner with a half-quartern of gin, which came to 2¼d.—she gave me a bad shilling—I bent it, and said, "Are you aware this is a
bad one?"—she said, "Is it?"—I said, "Yes"—she took it up and paid with a good sixpence—next day, about twelve o'clock, she came again, and I saw Mrs. Marshall serve her with a half-quartern of gin—she paid with a shilling, got the change, and left—I spoke to my mistress, who looked at the shilling, found it was bad, and put it by itself at the back of a shelf—I gave it to Mr. Cook, the manager, half an hour afterwards—about a quarter-past two the same day the prisoner came again, and I served her with a half-quartern of gin—she gave me a bad shilling, which I gave to Mr. Cook, and asked her in his presence how many she had got of those—she made no reply, and was given in custody.
Prisoner. I was not there the day before, nor yet in the morning—you put the shilling into the till, and then took it out and gave it to the master.
Witness. I did not.
JANE ANN MARSHALL . I am a widow, and keep the Bromley Arms, Cleveland Street—Mr. Cook is my manager—on 12th December, about a quarter to twelve, the prisoner came in for a half-quartern of gin and gave me a shilling—I looked at it, in consequence of what Bayley said, found it was bad, and put it on a shelf by itself.
BENJAMIN COOK . I am Mrs. Marshall's manager—on 12th December Bayley gave me a bad staling, which he took from a shelf—I received another bad shilling from him in the afternoon, in the prisoner's presence—the prisoner had tried to pass a bad shilling on me three weeks before, which I gave back to her.
ISAAC BUTCHER (Policeman 43 F). On 12th December I took the prisoner, and received these two bad shillings from Mr. Cook—she said that she only passed the one at a quarter-past two—the female prosecutor said in the prisoner's presence that she had searched her and found 1s. 2d. in silver and 4d. in copper, and that she believed she had searched her three weeks previously.
GUILTY .*— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
ISABELLA BOER . I am the wife of Henry Boer, who keeps the Olive Branch, Thomas Street, Oxford Street—on the night of 16th November I served Jones with a glass of ale—she gave me a bad shilling—I bent it twice, and handed it to my husband.
HENRY BOER . On 16th November I saw Jones in my bar, and received this bad shilling from my wife, who asked Jones if she knew what it was—she said no, and afterwards paid with a good shilling—I followed her and spoke to Witt, the constable—Jones was waiting at a corner, and Wilson joined her—as soon as they saw me talking to Witt they turned back—two constables followed them—Witt took hold of Wilson, and I heard some money drop on the ground, which Witt picked up—I saw Saunders take Jones—I gave him the shilling I had received from my wife.
HENRY WITT (Policeman 67 C). On 16th November I was with Saunders; Boer spoke to me—I followed Jones, and saw her join Wilson—I took hold of Wilson, and she dropped two shillings separately, one of which I picked up at the time—I afterwards returned to the spot and found the other (produced)—I said, "What is that dropped?"—she said, "I do not know"—I said, "You have been passing bad money"—she said,
"Not me"—I showed her the shilling I picked up, but she said nothing—they were both searched at the station—two sixpences and 4¾d. were found on Jones, but nothing on Wilson.
JONES— GUILTY . WILSON— GUILTY .**— Nine Months' Imprisonment each .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS WALTON . I keep a public-house in Regent Street, Westminster—on 10th December, about seven in the evening, I saw the prisoner served with a glass of ale—he paid with a bad shilling—I bent it, and told him I should lock him up—I went round the counter, seized him by the collar, and held him for a quarter of an hour, but could not find a constable—during that time he offered me a good shilling for the bad one—he gave me a good shilling, took the bad one from my hand, and went away without his change—I followed him to Vincent Square, where he ran away—I had seen him about and knew his face—I am sure of him—I saw him in custody about a week afterwards.
JOHN POLLARD (Policeman 72 B). On 20th December I had the prisoner in custody at the station—I searched him, and found three shillings in his right-hand coat pocket, wrapped in paper, and then in a rag, and pieces of paper between each shilling—I handed the rag to Inspector Humphreys, who opened it in the prisoner's presence and found the bad shillings—I found a purse and 2s. 6d. in good money in the prisoner's trousers pocket.
Prisoner's Defence. These things were found in my pocket, but I know nothing of them.
GUILTY .*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
JOSEPH BUTTERFIELD . I am an artist's colour maker, and at this time lived at 127, Ossulton Street, Somer's Town—on 13th December, at a little after eleven, I was going home from the Clerkenwell explosion, and when I got to Weston Street, Bagnigge Wells Road, I saw five or six persons standing, and immediately I had passed I received a violent blow on the back of my head, which knocked my hat over my face, and I fell and hurt my hand—I got up and seized the nearest man to me by one ear and by the collar—the whole gang commenced striking right and left towards me, and knocked me down—I lost 18s. 6d. from my trousers pocket, but I cannot say whether it was while I was down or when I was up, also my pocket handkerchief—while I was down I was knocked about, and dragged along the road, and smothered with mud from head to feet—I got up again
and got hold of the nearest to me, when the prisoner struck or kicked me a terrific blow in the back, which left a bruise on my hip two or three inches long—I saw him do it—I instantly dropped the man I had hold of and fell on my knees, cutting the knees of my trousers open—I ran after the prisoner and captured him, not above the length of this Court off—I was then set upon by the whole lot and knocked down again—I was calling out "Police!" all the time, but nobody came to my assistance—I got up, ran after the prisoner again, caught him, and was taking him to the station when I was assaulted again by the whole gang—he broke away and was stopped by Parritt, a policeman being close on his heels—a comforter which had been round my neck was picked up in the road—I had been ill in bed for a month before this, and had only just returned to work—it preyed very much upon my nervous system, and I feel the effects of it now—I have been under Dr. Renger, of University College Hospital.
Prisoner. Q. Am I the one you ran after? A. You are the one I brought down Weston Street—I can swear to you—I have not the slightest doubt of you—you stood on my left side when you struck me the dreadful blows.
BENJAMIN PARRITT . I am a grainer, of 46, White Lion Street, Pentonville Hill—on 13th December I was on Pentonville Hill at night, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I ran up the Hill, and saw Butterfield running after the prisoner—he caught him in Cumming Street, and brought him across the road to Weston Street, and when he got ten yards down four or five others were round them, who said, "We will make him leave go"—more than one of them struck him a violent blow—I said, "Keep away from the man, so many of you onto him," but they stuck to him still, and knocked him down, and the prisoner got away—Butterfield got up—he had a white comforter round his neck; they pulled it, and swung him about in the mud—he cried, "Police!" and I saw him knocked down twice and kicked—I ran to Bagnigge Wells Road for a policeman, and saw the prisoner and another of the men run from Weston Street to York Hill—I ran up York Hill, down Pentonville Hill, and up a passage in Winchester Street, where I caught the prisoner—a constable came up and took him, and the other escaped.
Prisoner. Q. Where did I strike him? A. On the back of the neck, and when he was down you kicked him.
JOSEPH KING (Policeman 253 C). On the night of 13th December I was on duty in Bagnigge Wells Road, saw Parritt, went with him, and saw a lot of people at the corner of Weston Street—Butterfield was hallooing out, "Police!"—I saw the prisoner go from the crowd, climb over some rails, and run across the King's Cross Road, up York Hill, and down Pentonville Hill into Winchester Street—Parritt caught him in a court there—I was close by, and took him to the station—the inspector charged him with robbery and assault; he said that he had nothing to do with it—I am sure the prisoner is the man who got over the railings; I never lost sight of him—the prosecutor followed after us: he had had a glass of drink, but he was very much excited and knocked about.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment and Twenty Strokes with the Cat .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT FOSTER HOGG . I am a tailor, of 187, Cannon Street Road—on Wednesday night, 18th December, I closed my house at nine o'clock, and saw it all safe at eleven o'clock—I had then thirteen rolls of cloth, six coats, and four or five pairs of trousers safe—about eight a.m. on the 19th my attention was called to a hole in the roof of my workshop, which communicates with the shop, but not with the house—a rope was suspended from a beam, and a pair of my workmen's trousers were lying at the bottom of the rope to make it easy to ascend and descend—several shelves were empty, and I missed thirteen rolls of cloth, value about 48l., six coats, and six pairs of trousers—I saw them on the following Saturday—my house is in the parish of St. George's-in-the-East.
WILLIAM FREESTON (Policeman 58 K). On 21st December, from information, I went to the prisoner's room at three a.m.—he was in bed—I said, "Sam, I have received information that you have got stolen property in the room"—I saw some rolls of cloth in a corner, and said, "How do account for those?"—he said, "A chap offered me 1l. to let him leave them there; I do not know who he is"—I said, "I shall charge you with unlawful possession"—I took him to the station.
Prisoner. I said that I knew the man by sight, but did not know his name. Witness. No—I searched you on the spot and found 1l. 6s. 2½d.
JAMES LOWIN (Policeman 123 K). I was with Freeston, and found in the prisoner's room six coats, four pairs of trousers, and two pocket-books, in which were some of Mr. Hogg's cards and a photograph; he has identified them.
Prisoner's Defence. On the morning of 18th December I was at the Effingham public-house, and a man named Harry said that if I would let him bring some goods to my house he would give me a sovereign. I let him do so, and on Friday I let him have the key to fetch them away. The man who gave the information lives in the same house as me. COURT to WILLLIAM FREESTON. Q. About how far does the prisoner live from the place? A. About 300 yards.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, January 7th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
PHIPPS— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. HOUSTON conducted the Prosecution, and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
JOHN SCRUTON . I live at 6, Circus Street, New Road, Marylebone—I was discharged from the Grenadier Guards on boxing night, having served my time—early on the morning of Saturday, about half-past twelve, I was at a public-house in Queen's Road, Chelsea—I was changing money there—I saw the prisoner there, and two men with him—I afterwards went
into a fish and pie shop next door, and saw the prisoner and the same men there—after leaving the fish-shop I went down the Queen's Road, and when there the prisoner, and the other two attacked me—they knocked me in the ribs, and knocked me about, and knocked my face—I sung out for a policeman, but could not find one—I had 30s. on me, and they took it from me—I can't say who it was that took the money—it was one of the three—I am confident that the prisoner was one of them—I went to the police-station and gave information—two policemen were sent with me to the spot where I was knocked down—they got their lanterns and matched the mud with the mud on my coat—I afterwards saw the prisoner at the police-station at Chelsea that same evening—he was along with eight or nine other civilians—I pointed him out as the man who had attacked me with the other two—I had been drinking, but I was not drunk by a long way.
Cross-examined. Q. You had been drinking a good deal, had not you? A. No—I had left the Horse Guards about half-past four—I am not married—I only got 5s. when I was discharged—I had not been expending that in drink—I went from the Horse Guards to the Chelsea barracks, and then to the Coach and Horses public-house—I left Chelsea barracks I suppose about seven or eight—the public-house is close to it—I did not get there direct from the barracks; I went to market to buy a few things—it was between nine and ten that I went to the public-house—I went back to the barracks again—I drank nothing to speak of—this was on boxing night—I did not remain in the public-house between nine and ten and twelve; I went and had a walk—I suppose I was about two hours in the public-house altogether, or two and a half—the pie-shop is next door—there were several men in the public-house when I went in—seven or eight I should say—I did not speak to the prisoner or his companions in the pie-shop—there was a little disagreement about a pie; some one took up my pie, and I objected to it—the prisoner was sitting on the steps of the pie-shop, inside—another young man handed my pie to him, and I took it from him and told him I had paid for it—it is not a fact that I could not walk straight—I was perfectly steady.
MR. HOUSTON. Q. It was not on boxing night that this happened, was it, it was two days after? A. Yes.
WILLIAM EATE . I live at 6, Queen's Road East—my brother-in-law keeps the pie-shop—on Friday night or Saturday morning, the 28th December, I was serving in the shop—the prosecutor came in and ordered some fish and pies, and paid for them—the prisoner and another man were in the shop—I served the prisoner with some fish—I can't say whether it was before or after twelve—it was near on it.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you any opinion as to what time it was? A. I can't form any opinion—we usually shut up at one o'clock, and it must have been quite an hour before we shut—I went before the Magistrate on the Saturday I think—the prisoner was then put back, and I had to go up afterwards—there were several persons in the pie-shop—I only saw one other with the prisoner—the prosecutor and some more were on the same side, and I thought they were altogether at first—some one took the prosecutor's fish and handed it to the prisoner—the prosecutor did not like it, and he took it out of his hand—I dare say the prosecutor had been drinking a little, but he was sensible—he knew what he was doing—he could walk quite straight, and knew what he paid and what he received back—I knew the prisoner before by sight.
station on Saturday, in consequence of which I apprehended the prisoner—I told him the charge, and on the way to the station he said he could prove he was not the party—he was afterwards put along with several others—the prosecutor was there, but I was ordered out of the room, at the prisoner's wish.
Cross-examined. Q. Who was in the room? A. I think eight or nine civilians, two constables, and a sergeant—I had received a description from the inspector on duty at the station, not from the prosecutor.
JOHN GOODMAN (Policeman 342 B). Early on Saturday morning, 28th December, I was in Grosvenor Road, near the fish-shop; I saw the prisoner there—I saw him several times during the night—I remember seeing him after the public-house was closed; that was after twelve o'clock—I saw him once or twice after the house had been shut, twenty minutes or half an hour afterwards—there were several persons about—I don't know who they were.
JOSHUA BARKER (Policeman 248 B). On Saturday morning, 28th December, I was on duty in Queen's Road East, and saw the prisoner near Mr. Eate's pie-shop several times in the forepart of the night—the last time was about half-past twelve—I had seen him before that, between ten and half-past twelve, several times; there were several others with him—I saw the prosecutor in front of the pie-shop, and two or three others.
Cross-examined. Q. Were they going in or coming out of the pie-shop? A. They were standing outside—I merely saw them as I passed—I knew the prisoner by sight—I did not know the prosecutor before—I was not the man who went to his assistance—I know nothing of the robbery—the neighbourhood is close to the barracks—there are a large number of lads about there.
JOHN SCRUTON (re-examined). The prisoner was in the public-house when I was changing money—he came iu to light his pipe, and the landlord turned him out—I suppose it was about half-past eleven—the prisoner did not speak to me.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate:—"I never knocked him down at all, because he was fighting on Thursday night, and I have witnesses to prove that he had the face done on Thursday night, and that he had it done on Thursday night when he was at the Snow Shoes."
Witnesses for the Defence.
JERENIAH SULLIVAN . I live at 1, Dalton's Gardens, Chelsea, and am a costermonger—last Friday week the prisoner was at my house at twelve o'clock—I came out to get a drop more beer at that time—the public-houses were shut—I heard the clock strike—I had no clock at my house at that time—I was out of my house for about ten minutes, and when I got in the prisoner was there—he remained there till two o'clock, if not past two, and bade me good night—young John Connell was there, and his father Martin Connell, but he had gone to bed a good bit before, I dare say about half-past one, or something like that—I menu that he had gone home to bed before the prisoner left my house—I am quite sure at twelve o'clock that the prisoner was in my house.
Cross-examined. Q. Then was he in your house before you went out? A. Yes; when I came back I was standing at my door watching a young fellow for nearly an hour, who I thought was up to something in my garden—I then went indoors—I remember this night very well; because we were out late working, two or three neighbours and myself, and we wanted a drop of beer, and I went out to get it and found the houses shut—the
prisoner worked for me for some time—he came to my house that night about twelve, or two or three minutes before twelve—I said so before the Magistrate—I did not say that I heard the clock strike, but I did hear it—I had been out with some oranges that day to sell in the street—my wife was in the house at this time, my daughter, and the children and two men, Mary Ann Sales, and John Connell, who plays the fiddle—they remained at my house till three o'clock, I think some of them after the prisoner had gone—I think Mary Ann Sales stopped till three, because she lives next door—young Connell went off at the same time as the prisoner—it was after two o'clock when they left.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Did Mary Ann Sales come to you and take you to the police-court on Saturday? A. No, not on the Saturday, on the Monday—the prisoner's sister first came to me on the Saturday morning—she said, "Was your brother at your place last night?"—I said, "Yes"—she asked at what time, and I said, "I believe at twelve or a little before"—she asked me this about ten o'clock on Saturday morning—she told me he was locked up, would I come down to the court, and I said, "Yes"—I am sure this was at ten o'clock on Saturday morning.
JOHN CONNELL . I am a costermonger, and live in Bolton's Gardens, Chelsea—I met the prisoner there last Friday night week, just on twelve o'clock—I know it was just on twelve, because the public-houses were just shutting up—he joined me, and we both went to Sullivan's—we stopped there just on two hours or a little after—my father was not there at the time the prisoner was in; he had gone home.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know this pie-shop? A. Yes, it is about two minutes' walk from Bolton's Gardens—I was first spoken to about that the morning after he was taken, the Saturday morning—I am quite sure about that—it was the morning after he was taken—he was taken on the Friday night; no, it was on the Thursday night he was taken—it was on Friday night that he was with me at Sullivan's—I believe that it was Monday morning that I was spoken to about it—his sister spoke to me first—she came down to my house about nine o'clock on Monday morning—I believe he was taken on Thursday night; no, on Saturday evening—it was about two minutes before twelve when I met the prisoner—I am quite sure it was on the Friday night.
GUILTY .*†— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
NOT GUILTY .
JOSEPH EMMERTON . I live at Salamanca Terrace, Chelsea, and am a contractor—in 1865 a person named Edmonds, carrying on business in the City, was indebted to me in the sum of 14l. 16s. 7d. odd—I had a bill of exchange for that sum; before it became due he became bankrupt—I received a notice of the first dividend about two and a half years
ago—it was 7s. 8d. in the pound—in November last I received notice of a second dividend of 1s. 5d. in the pound—I did not give the prisoner any authority to go to the official assignee and receive that money for me.
COURT. Q. Was the prisoner in your employment? A. No—I first became acquainted with him as being a clerk or agent for Edmonds.
JOSIAH BREAKLES . I am clerk to Mr. Graham, the official assignee—I produce an order for a dividend warrant—last November it was presented to me by the prisoner. (Read: "In the estate of Charles Edmonds. Please pay the bearer the sum due to me. Joseph Emmerton.") Upon receiving that I gave the prisoner this dividend warrant for one guinea, and he signed this receipt on the counterfoil of the warrant: "12th November, 1867. One guinea for Joseph Emmerton. John Ward."
THOMAS FULLER . I am a clerk in the office of the accountant in bankruptcy—I produce a warrant for the payment of one guinea, in the estate of Charles Edmonds, to be paid to Joseph Emmerton—the person receiving the money would put his name at the back—the name of Joseph Emmerton is signed at the back—I can't say who presented the warrant, so many come.
JOSEPH EMMERTON (re-examined). The signature to this order is not mine—it is the prisoner's writing, and so is the receipt on this counterfoil, also the endorsement on the warrant—I never gave him authority to sign any of those papers—I authorised him to receive the first dividend, not the last.
Prisoner. Q. Did you not give me this acceptance (producing it) in the middle of 1864, and tell me if there was a dividend I might have it? A. No—I handed the acceptance to you, and you took it to go and get me the money—you brought me back 1l. 3s. 2d., and I told you you might keep the odd 3s. 2d. for yourself; but you actually received on that occasion 5l. 13s. 4d.—I thought it was a dividend of 1s. 8d., but when I went for the second dividend I found it was 7s. 8d.—I did not make you a present of the acceptance, and tell you you might have any dividend if there should be any—when I received notice of the second dividend I looked over my papers for the bill and could not find it—I thought I must have lost it, but it turns out that you kept it.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you ever receive the guinea for the second warrant? A. No.
Prisoner's Defence. I can only say the bill was given to me, and of course I did that which I supposed I was justified in doing. If I have done legally wrong I don't conceive I have done any moral wrong. I was under the impression that I was entitled to get the dividend.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
JAMES ORR . I live at 11, Morton Place, Pimlico, and am a joiner by trade—about ten o'clock at night on 31st September last I was in my back kitchen—my attention was attracted by a faint click at the latch of the street door—I ran up stairs, making no noise, as I had light shoes on, and I saw the street door open wide to the wall, and the prisoner standing apparently leaning on the rail with his elbow—I can't say whether I was seen or heard, but the prisoner gave an alarm or signal—I am not exactly positive to the word—I believe it was "Hallo" or "Below," and some one
rushed out of the parlour with an armful of clothes, and ran to the front door, dropping the clothes in the passage in his way, and part on the doorstep or pavement—he joined the prisoner at the door, and they both ran—I immediately called out, "Thieves," and gave chase—I came up with them in Warwick Square—the prisoner being nearest me, I laid my hands upon him, the other ran away—I called out to some one to stop him, but no one would interfere—I kept them in view the whole time, except about a minute as they turned the corner into Warwick Square—when I came up with them they were both blowing very much—I have not the least doubt that the prisoner is the man I saw leaning on the railings—I saw his face by a light in the passage—I held him till a constable came up, and then gave him in charge—the house belongs to Mr. Dunham, I am a lodger—Mr. Dunham occupies the front kitchen and parlours.
COURT. Q. How far is the house from Warwick Square? A. I should say about three-quarters of a mile—I can tell the streets I ran through—I saw the two running together all the time—I merely lost them as they turned the corner, and when I turned the corner there was no person in view but those two.
GEORGE BROWN (Policeman 214 B). On the night of 31st December, about ten o'clock, I was on duty in St. George's Road—I heard a cry of "Police" in St. George's Square—I immediately ran to the spot, and saw Mr. Orr standing by the prisoner—he gave him into my custody—I took him to the station—the charge was read over to him—he strongly denied it.
LOUISA DUNHAM . I am the wife of George Dunham, a piano maker, of 11, Morton Place—Mr. Orr lodges in the house—on the night of 31st December I shut up every door and window at a quarter to ten—I did not bar or bolt the front door, only pulled it to—any one could open it with a key—these clothes (produced) are my husband's property—they are worth about 1l.—I had seen them safe before ten o'clock.
HENRY GORRINGE . I am a butcher, and live at 127, Lucas Street, Pimlico—about ten o'clock on the night of 31st December I was at the corner of St. George's Road—I saw the prisoner and another come running past me—the prisoner was the nearest to me—directly they had passed Mr. Orr came running behind them—I ran with him after them; they were just turning round Warwick Square, and when we got into the square they were on the other side by the railings, and the prisoner had got his trousers undone, and said he had just been making water—Mr. Orr caught the prisoner—I attempted to catch the other man, but he ran away—they were very much out of breath.
COURT. Q. Was there anybody else in the square besides the two men? A. Only a cabman on his cab, no one on foot—there is no street leading out of the square where they were, and they had not time to get round—when Mr. Orr accused the prisoner of the robbery he pretended to cry, and said he was not the man.
GUILTY .— Eight Months' Imprisonment .
MR. POLAND, in opening the case, expressed his opinion that the prisoner was of unsound mind, upon which the Jury were directed to try whether the prisoner was or not of sound mind, and upon the evidence of Mr. John Rowland Gibson, surgeon of Newgate, they found him to be not of sound mind. Ordered to be detained until her Majesty's pleasure be known .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution, and MR. LILLET the Defence.
GEORGE WILLIAM DAY . I live at 3, Newton Street, Holborn, and am a cattle-dealer by trade—I know George Gould, otherwise Bristowe, who was convicted at this Court last Session—I received a subpoena to attend here on the Tuesday, about the middle of the day—I have not got it with me; I destroyed it—I attended here on the Thursday to give evidence against Gould—on the Monday before that Thursday I saw the prisoner in Portugal Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields—Mr. Robson was with me—I had some words with the prisoner—I began with him first—I had had a good deal to drink—as to what took place between us I can't say—there were several words and a good deal of swearing, but as to the particulars that took place I can't say, further than a quarrel—I was examined before the Magistrate—my evidence was taken down and read over, and I signed it—I believe I said to the prisoner, "Don't you interfere with me, or I shall knock your teeth down your throat"—ho said, "You are interfering, I have found you out, you are giving Mr. Robson and Mr. Phipps some information"—I said, "I know nothing about it, I never appeared to any transaction, I am not a witness in any shape or form," no more I was—I don't remember anything being said about my giving evidence here against Bristowe—the prisoner said, "I believe you are inciting Mr. Robson against my father, or something of that sort—I said, "I know nothing about it, I have enough to do to trouble my head with my own business"—I did not hear the prisoner say, "I will settle you before I have done with you, and if you appear against the old man I will rip your b—guts up"—I did not say so before the Magistrate, not that I remember—he never made use of such expressions—we had been drinking in the neighbourhood eight or ten days—I have drunk with him before and since—I had been upset a good deal in business, and had been drinking for a fortnight, and, to tell you the truth, I don't know what he did say—I don't remember his saying if I appeared at the Old Bailey and gave evidence against George Bristowe ho would twist my b——neck—I can't say what day it was that I was before the Magistrate—I don't know whether he said, "You d——old villain, you are giving them the tip, "I was so in liquor—I was in liquor when I was at Bow Street. not when I gave evidence here; I had been drinking, but I knew then what I was saying—I don't know whether the prisoner said to me, "I will punch your b——head"—I believe there was some swearing—I told him I would knock his teeth down his throat—I don't remember his saying I had been in prison.
WILLIAM ROBSON . I am a wheelwright, and live at 29, Liquorpond Street, Gray's Inn Road—on Monday evening, 16th December, about a quarter to eight, I met Mr. Day in Portugal Street—while I was with him the prisoner came up and said, "You d——old villain, you are giving them the tip"—that was the first thing I heard—he then came closer and said, "I will punch your b——head," and he lifted up his hand and was about to strike him, but I prevented him; he threw his right hand out from his body, as a man would do if he was about to strike another; he was quite close to him and could have reached him, when I went in between them—he then said, "I will wring your b—neck if you arc giving any information against the old man"—he entered into a
variety of accusations as to his being an old thief, and having been in prison a multitude of times, and so on, but nothing further relating to the case, and after a good deal of squabble of that kind he went away—I attended at this Court when Gould, alias Bristowe, was tried—I saw the man Day called as a witness—I also saw the prisoner called as a witness for the defence—on the Tuesday, about a quarter-past two, I was standing at the front entrance to the Court and saw a crowd assembled, and I saw the prisoner, in a threatening attitude against Day, making use of language which I could not bear, and he was removed by a City Constable, who threatened to take him into custody if he repeated it—on the Monday, in Portugal Street, Day never said a syllable to the prisoner before the prisoner spoke to him; he could not see him, because he came from behind us.
Cross-examined. Q. How long were they together on the Monday? A. Some five or ten minutes; I was talking with Day before the prisoner came up in company with another man—after the prisoner spoke to him he might have made some reply, I can't say; I would not say that he did or did not—he said nothing that I noticed—after he threatened to wring his neck there was a little recrimination—they did not afterwards adjourn to the Black Jack public-house—Day went away with me, and continued with me an hour at least; we went from there to Bow Street, and saw the inspector who had the case in hand against Bristowe—I should think the prisoner was as sober then as he is now—I had seen him on one other occasion I believe—I firmly believe he was quite sober.
WILLIAM BUCK (Policeman 25 F). I took the prisoner into custody on 19th December in the New Court in this building, on the day of Gould's second trial—after I got him into the street a person named Henry Day (not the witness, a son of his I believe, who was examined for the defence) and some others came pushing up against me, saying, "What are you going to do with him?" and so on—another constable who was with me kept them off, and I took him to the station—I must say the prisoner himself did not offer any resistance.
Cross-examined. Q. He conducted himself very quietly? A. He did—he asked that he might have a cab to be taken to the station—the prisoner is son-in-law to Day.
MAWSON BREARY (City Policeman 114). On Tuesday, 17th December, I was on duty outside this Court—I saw the prisoner and Day in front of the Court by the main entrance; there was a collection of people standing there—I saw the prisoner go up to Day, give him a push with his fist, and say, "You d——old thief, I will knock your head off, I will do something else for you yet"—I told him if he did not go away I should take him into custody—he said, "He has been convicted here, and his son has been convicted fourteen or fifteen times"—Day then said if he did not go away he would give him in charge, and he was taken across the road by some of his friends—this was between two and three in the afternoon—I don't know at what time the trial took place.
WILLIAM ROBSON (re-examined). It was about twelve o'clock in the day when the first trial was concluded, and when the Court reassembled after the adjournment the time was fixed for the second trial; he was acquitted in the first case, it broke down, and after the adjournment they settled when the next case was to be gone on with.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Nine Months' Imprisonment, and to pay the costs of the prosecution, or be further imprisoned Three Months .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, January 7th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution, and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
CHARLES KIRBY . I am a wine merchant, of 12, Crescent, Minories—on Tuesday evening, 24th December, I was near the door of 74, Great Tower Street—my right hand was in my pocket—the prisoner came up, snatched my gold watch and chain, and ran away—I saw him distinctly, it was under a lamp—I turned round to lay hold of him, and was immediately knocked down by somebody and kicked—I lost my senses, and when I recovered I was in the custody of an officer.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it dark? A. Yes—I had never seen the prisoner before to my knowledge—this happened instantaneously—when I got up I was minus my hat and bag, which were handed to me by somebody in the crowd, and I saw the prisoner in the hands of the police a few yards off—I was violently excited—there were plenty of people passing and repassing—I was kicked on the hip—the prisoner came right before me, and snatched my watch and chain, the bar of my chain was left in my waistcoat.
WILLIAM BATSON . I am in Mr. kirby's service—on 24th December, about seven o'clock, I saw him by 34, Tower Street—the prisoner came up, knocked him down, and snatched his watch and chain, and as they snatched it they knocked his chin.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he knock him down first? A. Another man knocked him down—he struck him on the chin, and kicked him on the knee—I had never seen the prisoner before—the whole thing passed in a moment—I saw the prisoner at the Mansion House next day—I saw the constable take him that night, and heard my master say that he was the man who snatched his watch—I should know the other man again—he had a guernsey on, the same as the prisoner—my master's watch was taken first, and then the other man knocked him down—he was not knocked down before his watch was taken, but he was struck on the chin before it was taken, as he was pulling it—it was the man who was pulling the watch who struck my master on the chin with his fist, and then the other man knocked him down—I saw the other man strike him.
ALFRED JACKMAN . I live at 26, Biston Place—on 24th December, about seven o'clock, I was in Tower Street; I heard a cry of "Stop thief," and saw a man crouching down behind a van, and hiding himself alongside the wheel—I caught hold of him, but the prisoner ran up, drove his knee into my stomach, and tapped me on the shin, and I was oblied to let go of him—lie said, "Where the b——hell are you coming to?"—another person seized the prisoner, and I saw him given in charge.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner do anything at all? A. He only struck me; I do not know why, but I had got hold of the other man—there were very few people about—I do not know where the gentleman is who
took him—he did not give his name—he was present when the prosecutor said that this was the man who robbed him—I was standing still.
Cross-examined. Q. Kirby says that when he recovered he found the prisoner in the hands of the police, and you say that you found them struggling together: are you sure it was Kirby he was struggling with, and not another gentleman? A. With Mr. Kirby—the prisoner said that he had just come from home, 2, Tapp Street, and was going to the market—I have been told that he is a porter there—I know nothing against him—I searched him at the station, and found 7d. on him. GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment and Twenty Strokes with the Cat .
135. THOMAS MARTIN (21), JOHN GOLLICKER (19), GEORGE WEAR (15), and JOHN SMITH (22), Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling house of John Church, and stealing therein 120lb. of raisins, two boxes, and other articles, his property, Smith having been before convicted, to which MARTIN PLEADED GUILTY .*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment . WEAR PLEADED GUILTY .*— Three Months' Imprisonment, and Three Years in a Reformatory . SMITH PLEADED GUILTY .**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude . MR. CARTER, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against GOLLICKER.—. NOT GUILTY
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, January 8th, 1868.
Before Mr. Justice Shee.
136. SARAH AMOS (26) was indicted for the wilful murder of her new born child. She was also charged on the Coroner's inquisition with the like offence. MESSRS. STRAIGHT and DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution,
and MR. SLEIGH the Defence.
GUILTY of concealing the birth. Recommended to mercy by the Jury, in consequence of her previous good character.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment .
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, January 8th, 1868.
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
JOHN ROWLAND GIBSON . I am surgeon to the gaol of Newgate—the prisoner has been in the gaol from 1st January, I believe—I saw him daily for the first few days, and examined him—I have not seen him this week to convevse with him; I saw him up to Sunday—he appears quite right—I have discovered nothing unsound in his mind.
WILLIAM BALLISAT . I am an outfitter, of 233, Upper Street, Islington—the prisoner is my son, and lived with me—on 28th December, about half-past one o'clock, I was at dinner with my daughter and her husband, Mr. Grubb, and their three children—I was conversing with Mr. Grubb about
the Christmas holiday, and the prisoner, who was in the room, called out to Mr. Grubb, "You are a liar"—the prisoner was not dining with us, he had had his dinner—Mr. Grubb asked him if he was alluding to him; he said that he was; he asked him a second time, and he said that he was—he got up and they had a little tussle together, and I think Mr. Grubb said that he would put him out of the room—I did not interfere in any way during the altercation; I still continued to sit there—I heard the prisoner behind me sharpening a shoemaker's knife, and with that he put one arm around my head, drew my head back, and with the other hand he drew the knife across my throat—I put my hands up to save my throat, and got three fingers cut—my throat was cut too, and there was another attempt down below, where he cut through six folds of my linen shirt, but did not wound my skin—he said nothing to me—I did not bleed a great deal from my throat, but very much from the wounds on my hands—I cannot say whether he was drunk or sober, I had not seen him since about twelve that day, and had not spoken to him at all that day.
COURT. Q. How old is he? A. About thirty-nine—he has not always lived with me, because he is married—some three or four years back I was taken ill and gave him my shoemaker's business to see after, but he ran through the whole lot of it in about three years, and since that he has been living with me; his family do not live with me—I have never observed anything strange in his mind, but he has often stated what he would do—he has said so little to me lately that I cannot say whether he is in his reason—when he has been in liquor I thought something was in his brain, but I have mentioned it several times at the Court, and they always thought he was under the influence of drink, and I thought they were right—when he is not under the influence of drink he is very quiet, and will not speak two words sometimes—he has not had any medical man to attend him on those grounds or any grounds that I am aware of—I do not know whether he was under the influence of drink—I do not think he had been out at all that morning, but afterwards I heard that he had bought a beef-steak and taken it to a public-house and got it cooked, asking some one to mind it for him while he went to buy a loaf, and then went back and ate it and had something to drink—he has never been confined for being of unsound mind, but he has been taken up for threatening me two or three times, and was let out last time on his own recognisances to keep the peace, and I took him home to tea with me and never said anything more about it.
JAMES GRUBB . I am the son-in-law of the last witness, and live with him—we were at dinner on 28th December, and the prisoner was standing at the back of his father's chair with his back towards him—my father-in-law and I were talking about something, having nothing to do with him, and he suddenly turned round and called me a liar—after that we had some words—I was eating my dinner, and my wife suddenly said, "Knife!" I looked up and saw him suddenly with his hand across his father's forehead—I immediately pounced on him, seized him I believe by the wrist, and held his hand, which enabled my wife to take the knife out of his hand, and give it to a servant, who ran away with it—it was a shoemaker's knife—my father-in-law struggled away and went to a doctor's, and the prisoner got upon me, but did not do me any particular harm—he was given in custody.
COURT. Q. How long have you lived in your father-in-law's house? A. About three years—the prisoner has been living there off and on all the time—I think he had been drinking the day previous, and had the remains
of it, and was perhaps more excited than usual in consequence of that—my wife asked him if he was tipsy, and he said, "No, I am not," and seemed quite angry with her for asking him—he is generally like that after taking drink, rather excited—I have not observed anything wrong in his mind—he is very harmless, except that when he has been out his blood seems excited, and he fancies this, that, and the other, but I think he is perfectly sane—he fancies that he is entitled to money which his father has, which is an erroneous idea; his father has been very liberal—he fancies that his father ought to give him more money than he has—he is not under any delusion that he has a right to it as his own money—he has no other fancies—I never noticed anything else.
FRANCES GRUBB . I am the wife of the last witness—I have heard what he has said; it is quite correct—after the prisoner has been drinking he always appears very strange—I told him after this that I thought he must have been drinking; he denied it.
ARTHUR JOHN CRIBB . I am a surgeon, of 37, Compton Terrace, Canonbury Square—on 28th December, about 2.30, the prosecutor came to my house, bleeding from three fingers of his left hand, which had rather severe incised wounds on them, and a very slight wound on his throat—this shoemaker's knife would cause the injuries.
COURT. Q. What sort of a wound was it on his throat? A. Hardly more than a scratch, the skin was slightly wounded over the windpipe, but it did not require any dressing; it was more of a scratch—the knife had passed in that direction, no doubt—I only saw the shirt on the prosecutor to-day, it has been washed and got up since.
MART ANN KILBY . I am single, and am servant to the prosecutor—the prisoner had a conversation with me on the Friday preceding this Saturday—he told me I was not to be surprised, as he should do for the old b—, as his blood was getting up, and he should do it—he did not use any name, but we were talking about his father.
Prisoner. It is quite false; when I came back from the hospital the servant said, "How is your brother?" I said, "He is much about the same;" she said, "I am very glad my father is not like your father, a stupid old man not to let him know where he lived." Witness. I did not—the prisoner's brother was at the Smallpox Hospital—he had been out in the morning, and I asked him if his brother was better—he said that he had not been to see his brother, it was his father and mother's place to go, and not his—he had not been drinking on the Friday, it was in the afternoon, but I cannot say the time exactly.
Prisoner's Defence. After my brother struck me on the back of my head I had no recollection of what took place afterwards.
COURT to JAMES GRUBB. Q. Did you strike the prisoner on the back of the head? A. I raised my hand, but I have no recollection of striking him or injuring him in any way—we had blows; I struck him slightly on the side of the face, and said, "Behave yourself, or I shall have to get you put out of the room;" you have to be firm with him or a row ensues, but as to injuring him, I did not—he is quite as sensible as I am—I considered it was necessary to keep him quiet at once—I have seen so much disorderly conduct with him that if you do not speak up at once I know what Would follow, and I wanted to put a stop to that, as it is a great annoyance to his father.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his supposed wrongs. — Six Years' Penal Servitude .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, January 8th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Sergeant.
138. GEORGE BARRETT (19) and MARY WILLIS (19) were indicted for feloniously setting fire to the dwelling house of James Withers, several persons being therein. Second Count—Setting fire to certain bedding in the said dwelling house. (See page 87.)
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution, and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
MARIA WITHERS . I am the wife of James Withers, and live at Exeter Place, Chelsea—the prisoners rented a back room on the second floor from us, at 4s. 3d. a week—there were three other married couples besides ourselves in the house—there were two persons on the first floor, myself and my husband in the parlour, and Mr. and Mrs. Howe on the same floor as the prisoners—there were no others higher up—there are no rooms above the second floor—the prisoners took the rooms on the 10th August—the fire took place on the 3rd December—Barrett came to me on that day, and said, "Mrs. Withers, have you been in my room?"—I said, "No"—he said, "Some one has been there and robbed the place, and set it on fire"—I said, "Wait a moment"—I went upstairs and said, "You are not satisfied with getting into my debt and robbing me, but you must set my place on fire; you are cruel"—he said, "Well, I don't know so much about that"—the woman was there then—I saw marks of fire on the bed—the bed was burnt about two feet square, and about fourteen inches from the bottom—it was cold when I saw it—there were embers—there were blankets on the bed; they were partially burnt—I said to Barrett, "These things were intrusted to your care, and therefore you are responsible for them"—he said, "Very well"—next morning he was going out, and I gaid, "Mr. Barrett, are you going out?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Are you going out as coolly as this?" and he swore that the things were safe when he was in the room at six o'clock, and the place had been set on fire during his absence—he said, "Mrs. Withers, you shall not be the loser of one halfpenny"—I said, "That is not the thing, you have endangered my life and that of my lodgers; I don't think it is proper that you should go out"—he said, "What time is the constable coming?"—I said, "About nine or a quarter-past"—he said, "Well I shall be back by that time"—I said, "If one of you are present I think it will be better"—he went out, but never returned—Willis left six or seven minutes afterwards, but never came back—I gave him into custody the following evening in the King's Road, Chelsea—I said, "I shall give you in charge for robbing me of two pillows, a counterpane, two sheets, and two pillow-cases"—he said, "Very well," coolly.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you give him into custody on the 4th December? A. Yes—I charged him with robbing my place—I did not say anything about the sheets and other things when I gave him in charge—I found afterwards that Willis had pawned the things; and I know that she has pleaded guilty—the value of all the things was 1l.—I have been examined twice here, and twice before the Magistrate—my depositions were taken down then—I said before the Magistrate what the conversation was—I will swear that—I will swear I said, "You are cruel in the
extreme, and I am not deserving it;" and I think he said, "No, Mrs. Withers, you are not"—I also stated that before the Recorder last sessions—I know the words were said, whether I told them or not—I won't swear I said them, but I know the words passed—Mrs. Howe was present at the conversation—I will swear I said before the Recorder, "Are you going out after my place has been set on fire, as coolly as this?"—I said, "You are not satisfied with robbing me, but you set my place on fire on purpose to hide your guilt;" and he said, "You shall not lose one half-penny," and I said, "That is not the thing, you have endangered my life and the lives of my lodgers"—I will swear he said that to me, but I won't swear I said it before the Magistrate—before he was given into custody I said, "You have robbed me, and I have sent, for a policeman, and no doubt it will come out about the fire."
HENRY ANSTEES (Policeman 132 B). On Tuesday night, the 3rd December, I was called to Exeter Place—I saw the two prisoners in the second-floor back room—Mrs. Withers, in prisoner's presence, said that about ten minutes to six the two prisoners went out and came home again soon after ten, and came down to her room, and said that the place had been robbed and set on fire—I asked the prisoners whether they locked the door when they went out, and they said yes, they did—I asked if they had found it locked when they came back, and they said yes—Willis said that there was a coat of Barrett's gone, a dress of hers, a blanket, a pair of sheets, and a counterpane belonging to the lady of the house—I noticed that the bed was burnt about two feet square—no water had been thrown on it—it was quite dry—there were blankets on the bed partly burnt—there was a candlestick on a table at the foot of the bed—the female prisoner said she left a piece of candle about an inch long in the candlestick when she went out, with some matches; when she came back at eleven she struck a match to light the candle and found it was all gone—the table was close to the bed—the bedstead was a wooden one, and higher than the table or candlestick.
Cross-examined. Q. Has the bedstead rails? A. There is a footboard and a rail at the top—the footboard is about the same height as the table—there was no space between the rail and the footboard—I did not say anything about the height of the bedstead at the last trial—Willis was the person who called my attention to the candle—there were no hangings to the bed—there were no signs of water or shavings on the bed—nothing was said in my presence about Barrett having smoked before he went out—I examined the tick of the bed; it had the appearance of a fire having smouldered itself out—this is a piece of the bed ticking (produced)—I did not cut it off—another constable did—I have not got any of the blankets here—the candlestick had a fresh candle in when I saw it.
JOHN BRODERICK (Policeman 157 B). At eleven o'clock on the 4th December I went to Exeter Place and examined the place—the room smelt very strong of burning—I saw a large hole in the bed, which had been burned—a counterpane on the bed was also burnt—I cut off the burnt edge round the hole—I also took part of the bed tick—I found in the fireplace a piece of burnt rag—I took Willis in Walton Place, Chelsea—I said, "You must consider yourself in custody for robbing Mrs. Withers, and being concerned in setting the place on fire"—she said she knew nothing of the fire, but she had taken the things—she told me where the things were pledged, and I found them there.
Cross-examined. Q. You found on her a duplicate for a man's coat? A. Yes—the room smelt very strong of fire thirteen hours afterwards, and I believe it would smell at this time—I did not say anything about that at the last trial—the feathers of the bed were scattered about the room.
SARAH HOWE . I am the wife of William Howe—we lived in the same house as the prisoners—my room was the front one on the second-floor, next to the prisoners—I was in my room about six o'clock on the night in question, and the prisoners were in their room—there were no lodgers except the prisoners and myself on that floor—I went out for a few minutes, and when I came back I found everything safe—I went out again, leaving the key in the door—I had some potatoes under the bed, and when I came back the second time I went to get some and found a fire under the bed—there was no fire there when I went out—the prisoners were in their room when I went out—on my return I found smoke in the room when I opened the door—I ran down to Mr. Withers, and asked him to come up—when he came up we turned up the bed and mattress, and found some rags on fire under the bed—they were smouldering—there was a valance round the bed—those things had been under the bed before.
Cross-examined. Q. Had any of your things been moved? A. No—I went down to Mr. Withers before I found the fire under the bed—there was a fire burning in the grate, and a candle was on the table—when I went for the potatoes there was no fire.
MR. DALY. Q. Where was the candle when you came back? A. On. the table—the valance round the bed reached closed to the floor—the bed was fourteen feet from the fireplace—the foot of the bed is opposite the fireplace—it is a very long room—there is only one window, in the centre of the-room.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Did you say last session that the valance reached the floor? A. Yes, and also before the Magistrate—I said so before you asked me about it.
COURT to JOHN BRODERICK. Q. Did you go into Mrs. Howe's room? A. Yes—the bed is fourteen feet from the fireplace—it is an old-fashioned room, about twenty feet long—the things were pawned on the same day, between three and four o'clock on the 4th December.
COURT to MRS. HOWE. Q. When you called up Mr. Withers were the prisoners in the room? A. Yes; and when he came up they went downstairs.
COURT to MARIA WITHERS. Q. How much rent do the prisoners owe? A. 12s. 9d.
BARRETT received a good character. NOT GUILTY .
139. GEORGE BARRETT and MARY WILLIS were again indicted for stealing one counterpane and other articles, to which Mary Willis PLEADED GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . MR. DALY offered no evidence against BARRETT—. NOT GUILTY
Before Mr. Recorder.
140. HENRY MOORE (19) was indicted for feloniously breaking and entering a building within the curtilage of the dwelling house of Lewis Christopher Haslip, and stealing two gauges, three planes, and other goods. Second Count, for receiving the same.
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution, and MR. MACRAE MOIR the Defence.
LEWIS CHRISTOPHER HASLIP . I am inspector of sewers in the City of London, and live at Low Leyton, in Essex—I have a house there abutting on the Thornhill Road—there is a garden at the back running down to a wall, which abuts upon an open space of ground where they are building—there is a shed at the bottom of the garden, and beyond that a plot of ground upon which a house is being erected—adjoining my garden there is another terminating in a shed in a similar way—there is an outhouse adjoining my house—at the back, from that to the bottom of the garden is about ninety feet—on Sunday night, 24th November, I had some tools locked in my outhouse—on the morning of the 25th, about half-past seven or eight, I found the window of the outhouse broken and a quantity of tools gone from a bench just under the window: three planes, three hammers, a mallet, four gauges, and a number of other tools, and from the shed, at the bottom of the garden I also lost a hammer, chisel, and screw-driver—that shed had been locked, but the key was left in the door—the value of all I lost was about 3l. 10s.—I gave notice to the police—I observed some footmarks in my garden, commencing apparently from the shed as if they had come over the wall, going along a border for about twelve feet across the garden, then apparently on to the path, and again on to the border at the side of the garden, traversing the whole length of the garden close to the wall till stopped by a low fence, then round the fence to the outhouse, as if groping their way in the dark—I also found footsteps direct from the outhouse by rather a shorter cut across the border, and back again the whole track—the marks were very distinct, some were trodden into the other, but there were over a hundred I should think quite distinct; there were only the footsteps of one person, as far as I could see—the path would not leave impressions, as it was hard; they apparently went out of the garden in the same way, over the shed; the shed is within 100 feet of the house that is building—there is a small hut about two or three feet away from my shed, lower than my shed, and the house that is being built is beyond that—I afterwards saw a pair of boots in possession of the police-sergeant—I saw the prisoner at the police-court wearing those boots—I saw the constable compare those boots with the impressions in the garden; he made fresh impressions with them by the side of the others; they corresponded most minutely—the right boot was trodden over on the right side; it was a plain side-spring boot without nails, very much worn—the impressions precisely tallied; both impressions when measured were exactly eleven inches long—the impressions of the left foot were very. indistinct at the toe, the toes must almost have protruded on to the ground, and I observed those peculiarities both in the original impressions and in those made by the constable; they corresponded in every respect—the prisoner appeared before the Magistrate on the first occasion and was let out on bail—I did not see him leave the police-court—I never saw the boots after that—I saw him again, on the second remand, on 5th December; he was not then wearing the same boots, but others—I have not seen them since—I have seen a markinggauge and a mallet in the possession of the constable—these are them (produced), they are both my property—I can't say I saw these identical tools in the outhouse on the night of the 24th, but I had seen them very
shortly before, and I think, if they had not been there then, I should have missed them, they were lying along with the other tools.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that the prisoner is a carpenter? A. I believe so, working with his father—I did not know they were working in the neighbourhood until after the prisoner was in custody—I missed the tools between half-past seven and eight on the Monday morning—there were several gauges among the tools—I can swear to none in particular being there on the Sunday night—I saw the tools lying there, but I did not go there for the purpose of examining them—I have no doubt that the pane of glass was broken sufficiently to admit a small person—I think I could have got through myself if I tried—there were no impressions on the path, as it was hard, only on the border of garden mould at the side; that had been dug up and laid smooth—I only saw evidence of one set of footmarks, and the boots corresponded with them most exactly.
WILLIAM BROWNING (Police Sergeant 739 A R). On Monday, the 26th, from information I received, I sent a constable to Mr. Haslip's house—I did not go that day, I went on the Tuesday—I saw a number of footsteps in the garden—as far as I could judge, they were the footsteps of one person—I traced them from over a shed in a piece of ground adjoining Mr. Haslip's shed, and into his garden through a newly-dug border nearly at the end of his house, where the outhouse is, and then back again to the same place—a great number of the impressions were very distinct indeed—a person could get into the window of the outhouse, which was broken—I went round to the building at the rear, where a house is erecting, and saw the builder there and the prisoner's father, and entered into conversation with them—the prisoner was then at work in the front room of that house, which is about a hundred feet from Mr. Haslip's garden—he was working with his father as a carpenter—he did not speak to me when I went in, but he looked at me—I noticed his boots, and, from his peculiar appearance. was tempted to look at him—he looked at me and hung his head down, as if he wanted to avoid my seeing him—I did not speak to him, but on looking at his boots I judged they would make similar impressions to those I saw—I then left, and made inquiries as to the prisoner's character, and on Wednesday, the 27th, I apprehended him in Roman Road, Old Ford—he told me that he was at work at Chadwell Heath—that is eight or nine miles away—he had the same boots on when I took him—I took them off at the station, and went and made impressions with them by the side of the others, in the presence of Mr. Haslip—they corresponded exactly—I noticed the peculiarities—the left boot was worn away so that the toes almost had come to the ground; the right boot was trodden over on the right side—I observed those peculiarities and the impressions both in going and returning, and they corresponded—I sent a constable to Chadwell Heath, and received from him a bag of tools, amongst which was the gauge I have produced—the mallet I got from a man named Green, who was working on the premises where the prisoner worked—the prisoner saw me take the gauge out of the bag, and he said he had picked it up in a shed at the rear of the house where he had been at work, at Low Leyton—he said he saw the mallet with it—I gave up the boots to the prisoner when he was admitted to bail, and on the remand he appeared in a fresh pair—I have not seen the others since.
Cross-examined. Q. When you saw his boots on Tuesday did you look at them very carefully? A. Yes—as he was standing—he saw me look at them—the prisoner said he found the gauge in a house some hundred
yards from where he had been working—I have not got his basket of tools here—I was ordered to give them up to the prisoner by the Magistrate—there were seven or eight tools in the bag—none of them belonged to the prosecutor—I can't swear that the impression I saw could not be made by any other boots, but I never saw any so similar—I know that similar boots are made in large numbers at Northampton and other parts—I don't think there were more than the footsteps of one person, and I looked very carefully indeed—I made inquiry about the prisoner's character, and found that he bore a very good one, so far as I could ascertain—I also inquired about the father.
JOSIAH FARRELL (Policeman 452 N). On Thursday, 28th November, lifter the prisoner was in custody, I went to Chadwell Heath and took possession of the tool-basket—there was some building going on there—I gave the basket to the last witness—in Stratford Police-court I heard the prisoner say that he had picked up the gauge, with a mallet, where he had been at work, at Low Leyton.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he say he picked up the gauge with the mallet? A. He said it was lying by the mallet—he did not say he picked up the mallet.
MR. MOIR called the following Witnesses for the Defence:—
JAMES DAWE . I am a carpenter and joiner—I am out of employment at present—I live at 3, Kenilworth Road, Grove Road, Bow—I have known the prisoner about four months—I was a fellow-workman of his for about two days—I remember Tuesday, the 26th November, well—about half-past seven o'clock the prisoner called at my house, and said he had got a country job down at Chadwell Heath to go to, on the following day, and he wanted me to go with him, as there was work for two, but before he went there he wanted to go down to Low Leyton to get his tools, and I went with him that same evening—when we got there we could not get his. tools—his and his father's tools were kept together, I believe in the house next door to where they were working—after knocking some time at the house, and receiving no answer, he said he would go to the place where his father had been working next door—after searching about for some time he found a smoothing-plane—he put that on one side, as he did not require it—he then said he would go to the back of the buildings where he and his father kept other tools—I went with him as far as the back door—he went into a kind of shed or outhouse, and when he came out he had this gauge in his hand, I am positive he had not got it when he went in—he said, "I have got something that belongs to my father, we shall want it to-morrow" and I said, "Yes, we shall, bring it" and he did.
Cross-examined. Q. He took nothing else? A. Nothing else—I don't know when he got the other tools—I saw the other tools next morning when he went to work—we got to Mile End Station about a quarter-past seven, that was the time the train started for Chadwell Heath—we got to Chadwell Heath about half-past eight—we usually go to work before that time, but that was the first train; we went together—the prisoner lives about an hour's walk from Low Leyton—we got down to Low Leyton about half-past eight, that was too late to get the tools—we knocked at the door, bat I think the party was asleep; he had a basket of tools with him—next morning, when we went to Chadwell Heath, he said they were his father's tools—carpenters generally have a few tools at home of their own—those were only make-shift until he got his own tools—we came back by rail from Chadwell Heath on Wednesday, and I left him about half-past six in
the evening—he said he was going to see if he could get his tools—I saw the constable come to Chadwell Heath and take the tools—it was the prisoner's basket that he took—he did not tell me that the gauge belonged to the prosecutor—he only said there were some tools lost from where the prisoner had been working at Low Leyton—he told me that the second time he came down—I won't swear that he did not tell me that the gauge was one of the lost tools—I did not tell the constable I had seen him pick it up—I did not go to the police-court—I knew that the prisoner was remanded—the policeman told me so—I was first asked to be a witness on the Friday in the same week—I was asked to go to the Stratford Police-court—I did not go, I was wanted—the prisoner's father asked me to go—I could not go, I was wanted at a job—they could not spare me, as the work was wanted very particularly to be got on with—I said I would come if I possibly could.
MR. MOIR. Q. I suppose your coming here is a matter of expense to you? A. It is no expense further than the loss of time.
COURT. Q. Did you apply to any one for leave to go to the police-court on the Friday? A. I asked the foreman—I don't know his name—I was only there a short time, about a fortnight—I told him about it, and said I should like to go—he did not say he would not let me go, but he said he wanted the job got on with—I was afraid I should lose the job if I went.
HENRY MOORE . I am the prisoner's father, and am a carpenter and joiner, living at 75, Hewlett Road, Old Ford—I work anywhere and everywhere, wherever I can get a job—I have been working down at Low Leyton—when I first went there I used to put my tools into an outhouse; there were two outhouses on the piece of ground, one with a lock and key, and one without—I frequently put them in both places, but for double security I asked the next-door neighbour to allow me to put them into his house, as we were in the habit of losing our tools so much, and he said I might do so—on the night of 26th November I put a few in there, and some I left in the outhouse, where it appears this gauge came from—I left there that day at dark, about five or a little after or before—I did not know of my son having a job at Chadwell Heath until I came home on the Monday night, when a young man living close by came to tell him of it—he went with him to see about it, and came back and said he had got it—he then went out to see Dawe—that must have been about half-past seven or eight—he said, "What am I to do about tools?"—I said, "I have some tools at home, no doubt they will answer your purpose for the time being" and he had my tools, and went to Chadwell Heath on the next morning—I believe the first train leaves about seven—I remember Saturday, the 23rd November; my son came home about eleven o'clock that night, and he remained at home on Sunday, the 24th, the whole day—I was not well that day, and never left home till half-past six on Monday morning, when I left to go to Low Leyton—I shook my son in his bed that morning to wake him, and told him to get up and go to a person named Dawe, in Green Street, Bethnal Green, to whom I had taken two saws to be sharpened on the Saturday afternoon, that I might take them with me on Monday morning—I have heard the witness Dawe describe the outhouse where this gauge was found—I know the place—I have been in it frequently, and have been in the habit of leaving my tools there.
Cross-examined. Q. You say your son was in the house the whole of Sunday? A. Yes, from eleven on Saturday night—I was in the whole
day—I did not keep my bed—I can't say whether it was raining—I don't think it was over and above bright—my daughter was in the house, she is fourteen years old, and my wife—I have one lodger up stairs—she did not come in to see me—she is a person that never troubles us, in fact, I don't know whether she was at home or not—my daughter went to Sunday school in the afternoon, which is her usual custom, and to chapel in the evening—my son went to bed from half-past nine to ten—he slept in the same room with his sister, it is a large room, and her bed is enclosed round—it is up stairs—I sleep on the ground floor, and the stairs come down close to my door, and the back door—I went out at half-past six in the morning—I did not wait for my son—he came to me at Low Ley ton about half-past ten—it takes about three-quarters of an hour or an hour to get there from my house—I am still at work at Leyton—my son was working with me, assisting me—I did not know till Tuesday night that he was going to Chadwell Heath—I knew he wished to have a job on his own account—he said so on the Monday—I saw the policeman at Leyton on the Tuesday, he was outside the building, looking at me through the window—he said nothing to me about the robbery—we had a chat about Fenianism—my son did not know I had locked up my tools on the Tuesday night, for I always put them away myself—I never trust that to any one—I told him on the Tuesday where I had left them, when he left my house to go down to Low Leyton—I knew he was going there with Dawe to get the tools—I had left them with the tenant there—I don't know his name, I merely asked him as a favour to let me leave them, and he said, "Yes, you may, Mr. Moore"—he knew my name, he had heard it frequently, no doubt—I went to the police-court, but gave no evidence there, beyond saying I would be bail for my son; that was all I was asked.
MR. MOIR. Q. Is there any pretence for suggesting that your son went to Chadwell Heath in order to get out of the way? A. None whatever—he knew no more about the job when he came home than I did—I don't know why I was not called at the police-court.
COURT. Q. Why did you not tender yourself as a witness if you knew you could prove that your son was at home? A. I did—I was at the police-court, but I was never called for—I entrusted my solicitor with all these matters—Mr. Addingham is my solicitor, there he is; Mr. Wells, I should say—I am not aware that any statement was made to the Magistrate as to what evidence I could give—the case was sent for trial, and there appeared to be an end of it, according to what I could understand.
ANN REBECCA MOORE . I am fourteen years of age—I have a bed in the same room where my brother, the prisoner, sleeps; it is not shut off, there are curtains round—I remember Sunday, 24th November—my brother was at home all day and all night—I saw him at half-past six on Monday morning, and again about eight, when he got up to breakfast—I was at the Stratford police-court, but was not called.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you tell the attorney what you have told us to-day? A. No—I knew what the charge was against my brother—I did not tell the lawyer I could prove he was at home and in bed at the time the tools were stolen—I supposed father had told him that—father knew that he was at home—I told my father that I knew he was at home all the night—my brother generally went with my father to work in the morning, but this morning he did not get up till eight—I don't remember at what time he went on the Tuesday—he went to bed on Monday night about half-past ten or eleven—I don't remember at what time he got up on
Tuesday morning—he was generally in bed by half-past ten or eleven—I don't remember at what time he came home on the Monday—he generally comes home to tea about five—I think he had tea at home on the Monday—he did not bring his tools with him on the Monday; I am sure of that—I don't remember seeing any tools on the Monday—I don't know of his pawning any tools—I know that he pawned a saw shortly before this—I heard father speak about it—I can't say the day he found fault with him for it—I saw the constable when he came to leave a notice to tell my brother to have his boots here—I told my father of it.
MR. MOIR. Q. Was what you had to say taken down by this gentleman before you went to the police-court? A. No—he did not speak to me about giving evidence at the police-court—I was there, and ready to give the same evidence I have given to-day.
THOMAS ADDINGHAM . I am clerk to Mr. Wells, of 19, Basinghall Street—I have had the conduct of this case—the witnesses who have been called for the defence, with the exception of Dawe, were present at the police-court, Stratford—I knew then what evidence they had to give; I have the notes of it—they were not called by the Magistrate, because there was no occasion—I wished to call them, and he said, "No; call them at the trial"—in consequence of that I did not call them—I have heard the statement about the boots—I had them in my possession, and I have them now, I believe, but I was under the impression that I had handed them back, and I came away from home this morning without them—until I got here I thought I had got them—I had them here last session in my bag.
Cross-examined. Q. Why not ask your counsel to postpone the case until you had sent for them? A. I will do that willingly—I did not make any application to have it postponed—I said if it was necessary I could go home and fetch them—I am not acting as the attorney in this case, as managing clerk—Mr. Wells certainly knows about the case—he is paralysed, and is not able to attend to business—I do not act as Mr. Wells—Mr. Wells is paralysed down the right side; he cannot speak very plainly—his brain is not affected, merely his speech—I have been acting as his clerk I should think about three months—before that I was in the employment of Mr. Hicks; he was not paralysed—I did not act as Mr. Hicks at all—I might have been with him twelve months perhaps; I can't say exactly—before that I acted for Mr. Brutton—I have not been for years acting about this Court—it is very seldom that I come here at all—I do not go to the Middlesex Sessions, and very seldom to the Surrey Sessions—I can hardly tell how long I have been in the habit of coming here, perhaps ten or twelve years; not in the habit of coming, only when anything comes into the office—the office is at 19, Basinghall Street—Mr. Wells comes to the office—he lives at Angel Lane, Stratford—he does not come to the office every day—sometimes he is not able to come for a week or a fortnight, and sometimes he comes three or four times a week—the boots are not at the office—I took them home in my bag, and I suppose I took them out—I then resided at 13, Stanley Road—it was late at night when I left here, and I could not get into the office, and I took them home, and no doubt have left them there—I can tell you where they are, and an officer can go with me and bring them away—they are at 490, Hackney Road—I came from there this morning—I told my counsel before the case commenced, and he suggested I should send for them, but, having recently moved, I don't think they could
be found without I went for them myself—I heard the statement of the witness Rebecca Moore—she made a statement to me in the presence of her father—we went into a public-house down there, where I met them, and I took it down from her lips and her father's—I have it here—I mean to say that I applied to the Magistrate to hear the witnesses—I don't know his name—it was at Stratford—I was not aware of the recent Act of Parliament about taking the evidence of the prisoner's witnesses—I knew that I could get the evidence taken down, and get the expenses allowed at the discretion of the Court—that was the reason I applied to have them examined—I misunderstood you—I told the Magistrate the witnesses could establish an undoubted alibi—I did not remind him that if he took their evidence I could get their expenses allowed—I was only there once, that was at the time of the committal—that was when I told him the witnesses could prove an alibi—the police-officers were present when I said that, but I don't suppose they heard it, because it was a conversation at the table between the Magistrate and myself—the Magistrate asked if I had witnesses, and I said I had, and I wished to call them—I told him I could prove a clear alibi, I swear that, and his answer was, "There is no necessity to call witnesses now, you had better call them at the trial"—Idid not say I had no witnesses to call—I said I had witnesses to offer—he did not ask me the question, but I told him so.
MR. MORI. Q. Do you know whether the Magistrate is a stipendiary Magistrate or not? A. That is all I believe—I don't understand them down there—I believe he, is not a paid Magistrate; I don't know—I am quite positive I told the Magistrate that I had witnesses in Court to prove an alibi, and that he said, "It is no use calling them now, call them at the trial"—I told you, just as the case was being called on, that I had forgotten the boots; you told me to go for them immediately, and I said I could not go, because I had to attend to the case—you said, "Send somebody else at once," and I said nobody else could find where they were.
COURT. Q. You say you knew that if the witnesses were examined before the Magistrate they might have their expenses allowed, both for attending there and here? A. Yes—I did not press it upon the Magistrate, because another case was called on—I know that by the Act of. Parliament the Magistrate is obliged to ask the prisoner whether he has any witnesses—he did do that—if I said he did not I misunderstood the question.
MR. METCALFE recalled
WILLIAM BROWNING . I could not repeat word for word what took place before the Magistrate, but I can tell pretty well what did take place—I heard the Magistrate ask if there were any witnesses to be called for the defence—the solicitor said he had a perfect answer to the charge—he did not say a word about an alibi, nor did he say he had any witnesses to call—he said he would reserve his defence.
Cross-examined. Q. How close were you to the Magistrate and this gentleman? A. I was about six feet from the Magistrate, and about three from this gentleman—I would not pledge my oath to every word that took place—I do as to what I have said—I am on my oath—the words were that he had a complete answer to the charge—I heard nothing else.
COURT to ANN REBECCA MOORE. Q. Was your mother at home on the Monday morning? A. Yes—she did not get up till nine o'clock.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH THOMAS . I am a widow, and keep a tobacconist's shop in High Street, Eltham—on Friday afternoon, 13th December, I served the prisoner with one pennyworth of tobacco—he paid me with a bad shilling—I bent it nearly double and gave it back to him—he paid me with a good one and left.
GEORGE MOORE . I am a carpenter, of High Street, Eltham—on the afternoon of 13th December I was at work in my yard, and saw two shillings come over my wall—I picked them up, went out into the road, and there saw Alice Ray pick up two shillings from my window-cill—I took the two shillings to the police-station, seeing a crowd in front of it, marked them, and gave them to Turrell.
ALICE RAY . I live with my father and mother at High Street, Eltham—on Friday afternoon, 13th December, I saw the prisoner take something off a wall, and put something on Mr. Moore's window-ledge—I afterwards found it was two shillings, which I marked and gave to Turrell—I saw a policeman take the prisoner at the top of Elm Terrace.
Prisoner. Q. How high is the wall? A. Seven feet—I was about sixty feet off.
HENRY SURRIDGE . I live with my father and mother at Elm Terrace, Eltham—on the Tuesday after this Friday I found three shillings near Mr. Moore's wall, near a puddle; I then searched the puddle and found two more—I gave them to Turrell, and pointed out to him where I found them.
CHARLES TURRELL (Policeman R 222). On Friday afternoon, 13th December, I was on duty at Eltham, and saw the prisoner coming up High Street—he went into several shops, and then went down Elm Terrace—he saw me, turned back, and put his hands at the top of Mr. Mason's wall; he jumped up, as if putting something on the top, or throwing something over—he turned back, aud I took him in custody—he said at the station, "There is one thing, you cannot find anything on me"—fourteen pennies and a sixpence were found on him—I received two bad shillings from Moore, two from Ray, and three from Surridge.
COURT. Q. Is the terrace a well-frequented place? A. Yes—it is in the High Street—it was wet on Friday, and the puddle remained till Tuesday, as there is a hole there.
Prisoner's Defence. I went in and changed a shilling, not knowing it was bad. I am not guilty of the rest.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
MARY WREN . I am the wife of Patrick Wren, of 64, Robert Street, Plumstead, a labourer in the Royal Arsenal—on 24th October I was with my cousin, Thomas Whelan—he is married, and lives at 12, Alnwick Street, Plumstead—I left his house with him to go to Woolwich, which is about half a mile off—we left Woolwich between nine and ten to return, and came by Armstrong Street—I have lost the use of my right side, and took Whelan's arm—I was walking with a crutch, as I cannot get on without it—we were walking quietly in the middle of Armstrong Street and talking together, when I saw a man standing by the fence—there are houses on both sides, with a fence in front of them—when we had passed the man about twenty yards Whelan got a blow on his neck from behind, which caused him to fall forwards, and I fell with him, because I had no strength to keep up—after I was on the ground I saw the prisoner beat Whelan about the head with his hands, kneeling with both knees on his chest—I Whelan struggled to get up, but the prisoner got up first and gave Whelan a kick in the side with his boot, which caused him to fall again—I screamed "Murder"—he had taken my crutch amd thrown it away a little way, and I crept after it on my hands and knees and got it—he came a second time, and I said, "You must not kill my cousin"—he seized my crutch again; I said, "Do not take my crutch, as I am a cripple and cannot walk home"—he took it away, wheeled it round, and hit Mr. Waring about the body and head with it; it cracked and wentin two parts, on his body—I was still lying on the ground bleeding and screaming "Murder"—I saw Whelan picked up by two men—when the prisoner was kneeling on his chest Whelan said to him, "I have never offended you in my life, nor any other man, and if it is money you want, I have got none with me"—I saw the prisoner's face when he took hold of my crutch, but I did not know his name till afterwards—I have known him by sight about two years—he lives in Armstrong Street, a quarter of a mile from where I live now—I have no doubt he is the man—I was picked up by a young man—there is no pretence for saying that Whelan did anything to me—he had not got his arm round my neck, if he had I could not have stirred at all—I had not inquired of the prisoner for the way to Burridge Road, or made any inquiry of him previous to his attacking us; I know Burridge Road well, for I lived in Armstrong Street twelve months, and Burridge Road is at the top of it—I was sober, but when he took my crutch he might say that I was drunk, for I was helpless—Whelan was sober, he had no drink in my company, but he was smoking a minute before the prisoner beat him—this is my crutch, it is broken.
Prisoner. Q. Did Whelan have you round the neck, and stand about ten feet from our door? A. No—I did not ask for Burridge Road, I know it as well as any person—I knew you before, bnt did not know your name—I did appear as a witness against you at Woolwich, but I never saw you afterwards—that was when my husband summoned you for beating him—you afterwards summoned him for an assault, and he had to pay twenty shillings—that is two years ago—the last time you beat my husband I went with him, in case you should say anything to him, and I said, "What did you beat my husband for? he is a quiet man"—you said that you would be d——but you would kick my b——brains out if I did not go—Whelan did not have his arm round my neck, if any person did so he would be the man to protect me.
COURT. Q. Do you know where the prisoner lives? A. In Armstrong Street, but I do not know where—he is a labourer at the Arsenal, and
knows my husband there—I believe there is one lamp in Armstrong Street, it was not very dark.
THOMAS WHELAN . I live at 12, Lant Street, and am a labourer in the Military Store Department—on Saturday night, 26th October, I had been out with my cousin, Mrs. Wren—as we passed through Armstrong Street I saw a man standing against the wooden paling before the houses—Mrs. Wren had hold of my left arm—after I had passed the man I got a blow at the back of my head, which knocked me forwards on my face, and stunned me for a moment; when I came to myself I saw Mrs. Wren on the ground—I got up on my knees, and the prisoner stood in front of me, struck me between the eyes, knocked me back, and rendered me insensible—when I came to myself he was leaning upon me, and had his hand between the waistband of my trousers and my shirt—I asked him if I had ever offended him, or if he wanted to rob mo, but he said nothing—I struggled to get up, but he managed to get up first, and gave me a kick on my left side as I was getting up, and I recollect nothing more—I saw his face before he struck me the second blow, and the prisoner is the man—I had not said a word to him, nor had he to me—he had not asked me what I was doing with Mrs. Wren—there is no pretence for saying that I was walking with my arm round her neck—Mrs. Wren was quite sober, and so was I—I have been laid up in consequence of this attack, and have been spitting blood—neither of us had made any inquiry as to the way to Burridge Road, nor had I struck him in his face previous to his striking me—I hare been in Woolwich eleven years, and know Burridge Road perfectly well—I always enjoyed good health previous to this attack, but am quite weak and disabled now.
Prisoner. Q. Did not the woman scream just before you saw me standing at the fence? A. No—I did not stop at the fence with my arm round her neck, and take it away when you came up—you did not say, "You vagabond, what are you doing with that woman?"—I did not strike you, and knock you down, or hold you on the ground while the woman beat you about the head with her crutch, nor did I punch your head against the ground—I had a pipe in my hand, and if I had struggled with you it would have been broken—I did not call out to the woman to give me her crutch, and you would soon settle me—you had heavy boots on, and I shall feel the effects of your kick till I go to my grave.
COURT. Q. Can you tell whether the prisoner was sober or not? A. No—I had seen him before, working in the Arsenal as a navvy—I have known him by sight two or three years—he is about my size—I knew Mr. Wren before—I still suffer from the blow in my side, and from my head—he did not speak, unless it was while I was insensible—Mr. Wren is a countryman of mine.
MR. PETER. Q. Was it a dark night? A. It was more light than dark, but not through gas; it is not a well-lighted street.
COURT to MARY WREN. Q. Did you strike the prisoner with your crutch at all? A. I just put my crutch to him like this, and said, "You must not hit my cousin," but I could not lift my crutch, or I should fall; I poked it at him—we were both on the ground at the time—that was after I had got my crutch again.
GEORGE KING . I live at 11, Armstrong Street, Plumstead—on 26th October, about ten o'clock I was sent on an errand by my mother, and on my return I saw two men struggling—I crossed the road to them, and saw the prisoner on top of some gentleman, whom I cannot recognise—a
crippled woman was sitting on the ground, and had got her crutch between the two men, trying to separate them—she said, "You shall not hurt my cousin like that"—Mr. Whelan said, "If it is money you want, I have got none"—the prisoner got up first, and then the other man—the prisoner took the crutch and threw it along the road, and Mrs. Wren went on her hands and knees and got it—I then saw both the men fall again—when Mrs. Wren came back with the crutch the prisoner took it from her and hit Whelan once or twice, and then the crutch went to pieces—some boy said to the prisoner, "Run away and get over the wall," and he ran away and went the back way home—two men then came up and took Whelan to the doctor's.
COURT. Q. Do you know where the prisoner lives? A. Yes, at No. 5—this was opposite No. 3, which is next door to No. 5.
Prisoner. Q. How far is No. 3 from No. 5? A. About ten yards; the two houses join together, the odd numbers are all on one side—you threw the crutch about ten yards—I saw you and Whelan fall twice—I did not see him strike you.
JOHN ELLIS . I am a trimmer in a foundry, and live at I, Armstrong Street—on 26th October, about ten o'clock, I was in doors, heard a noise in the street, went out, and saw the prisoner flourishing a crutch in the air—I saw him strike a person three times—I do not know who it was; the third blow was between the head and the ear, and the crutch flew in half—I then went closer, to see who they were, and saw Whelan—the prisoner continued beating him with the other half of the crutch until he fell—he bled very much from his head, and was on the ground nearly a minute, when he was picked up by two persons—some policemen came up and he was taken to a doctor—I did not see what became of the prisoner, as there was a crowd, but I knew him by sight well.
Prisoner. Q. Did you hear me tell the prosecutor I would not strike him any more? A. No—you followed him near to my fence, with the broken part of the crutch in your hand—that is where he fell—he struggled from you to my fence, and there he fell.
MR. PATER. Q. Then when Whelan fell he was in the act of retreating from him? A. He had gone away.
WILLIAM TRAIT . I am a labourer, of 72, Burridge Road, Plumstead—I work in the Arsenal—on 26th October I was at Ellis's house, heard a disturbance outside, went out with him, and saw two men struggling in the road, and twenty or thirty people there—I heard a man say, "Give me the crutch"—I did not see it given to him, but I saw him with it—he struck Whelan twice across the head with it, and the crutch broke—the man who was struck reeled against the railings, and the other man followed, him with the piece of the crutch, and beat him about the ribs—a policeman showed me by his lantern that Whelan's head was bleeding.
JOHN O'CONNELL , M.D. On the night of 26th October, between eleven and twelve o'clock, Whelan was helped to my house—he had been a patient of mine before—he was suffering from partial concussion of the brain, and was partially conscious—he was covered all over with blood—I have attended him up to this time—he had contused wounds all over his body, more particularly on the chest, the scalp, the abdomen, and the back of the neck; also a lacerated wound on the upper left side of his head, penetrating to the bone, a contused bleeding wound on his neck, and a fracture of the lower jaw—next morning when I saw him he was spitting blood, and he had a rupture of the lower lobe of the left lung—there was
a bruise outside corresponding to that, so bad that he could hardly have it touched—it might have been caused by a kich with a heavy boot—I considered his life in imminent danger; he will always be very delicate, and will never be the man he was before—he is suffering still very much; he is permanently injured—every time the prisoner was brought up at the police-court he abused me dreadfully, calling me all sorts of epithets, and a quack.
WILLIAM THOMPSON . I am a labourer, of 10, Armstrong Street—on 26th October I saw a crowd, and went over and saw Whelan bleeding from the head—Mrs. Wren was lying in the gutter; I picked her up, and found she could not stand, being a cripple—she was perfectly sober—I went in, brought her a broom, and assisted her home—I knew the prisoner previously.
Prisoner. Q. Was not she making inquiries on the way home? A. She met people, whom she asked for Robert Street—she was much agitated and frightened, but I am sure she was sober—nobody came to my house and told me not to appear as a witness for you, or offered me money not to appear for you—no one said, "Appear for me, and you shall get paid for it, but do not appear for him"—I told people at first that Mrs. Wren was drunk, because she could not stand, but afterwards I found she was a cripple.
COURT. Q. You changed your opinion afterwards? A. Yes, seeing she could not stand without a crutch—I saw that the first time I saw her, but, seeing her so much excited, I thought she was drunk—I took her home, and saw her when she was in the house—I changed my opinion, and thought she was sober the next time I saw her—all that time I thought she was not sober.
Prisoner. Q. Was it after I subpoenaed you that you changed your opinion? A. No—I did not know you were going to subpoena me till I got the paper.
JOHN PAGE (Policeman 115 R). I took the prisoner on the morning of 28th October—I said, "I want you for an assault on a man named Whelan, in Armstrong Street"—he said, "Well, it is a bad job"—I said, "It is."
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate:—"On the night of 26th October I had taken off my coat and boots, preparing to go to bed. I was in a back room down stairs at the house, 5, Armstrong Street. My landlady and daughter were in the back room. I asked for a candle to go to bed. I wished my landlady good night, and came into the passage. I heard a scream. I said, 'Hullo! there's a row outside.' My landlady's daughter and I ran to the door. As we got to the door a man and woman passed by; they were talking rather loud; they made a stop in front of our house, and the woman laid hold of the fence. The man had his arm round the woman's neck; they were having high words; the woman didn't seem willing to go. I went up to them and asked the woman what was the matter; the woman said, 'Not much; will you direct me to Burridge Road?' I directed the woman; the man turned his head on one side away from me. The woman was very drunk. I then said, 'What does this b——vagabond want to do with you?' I received a blow from the man in the face, and was knocked down; I got up and struck at him, and closed with him; we both fell, I was under; he knocked my head several times against the ground; the woman was standing over me, striking me with her crutch. I got one of my feet against the man's
breast and knocked him over from the top of me. We both got up and exchanged several blows; we then closed and fell again; I got up first. The man called to the woman to give him the crutch, and he'd soon settle me. I ran to the woman and took the crutch away from her; I then threw the crutch along the street as far as I could throw it. The man was on his feet and rushed at me; we exchanged several blows, we grappled and fell in the gutter; I was uppermost, the man holding me down, underneath me. We struggled some time; I then got up; the woman had the crutch in her hand again, standing close to me; she was about to hand it to the man, when I snatched it from her. I told him to stand back, or I would strike him with it; I swung the crutch in front of him several times. He persisted in following me. I then struck him several blows with it. Some one in the crowd called out, 'Here's the police; run!' I then ran away and went in doors; I put on my boots and coat and came out again, and I went down to Woolwich, and had my head washed where it was cut. That's all."
Witness for the Defence.
ANN BAKER . I live at 5, Armstrong Street, with my father and mother—the prisoner is a lodger there—I heard a scream in the street on this night—the prisoner, who was in the passage, said, "There is a row outside, come and see what it is"—this man and woman passed by and stood in the middle of the fence—the prisoner said, "What is the matter, old woman?"—I did not hear the answer, but heard her say to the man, "You want to lead me astray"—the prisoner then asked him what he wanted to do with the woman—I heard the woman speak to the prisoner, but did not hear what she said—the man said, "What is that you say?"—I saw him strike you, and you fell; you were on the ground about ten minutes—I did not see him hit you after you fell, but I saw the woman using the crutch—my mother called me in doors and I saw no more of it.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Have you been keeping company with this man? A. No—I am not his sweetheart—I have not been constantly in the habit of going out with him—I did not know Whelan or Mrs. Wren before—I did not see the prisoner hit Whelan on the back of his neck—I did not see Whelan fall on his face—I did not see the prisoner do anything with a crutch—I did not see him take one from Mrs. Wren and throw it away, or see her go after it—I saw the prisoner strike Whelan on the head with a crutch three or four times.
Q. Where did he get it? A. I did not see him with it at all.
COURT. Q. Did not you say just now that you saw the prisoner strike Whelan with the crutch? A. I understood the gentleman to say, did I see Mrs. Wren strike with the crutch, and what I meant to say was that I saw her use the crutch.
MR. PATER. Q. Did you see the crutch of that lady cripple in the hands of the prisoner? A. No, not at all—I did not see the prisoner kick Whelan—I did not hear Whelan say, "What have I done to you? if it is money you want, I have not any about me"—when Mrs. Wren was striking him with the crutch she was sitting down—she did not say, "You must not hit my cousin in that way"—I did not see Mrs. Wren fall—I left the man outside when I went in.
Prisoner. Q. Did I have my boots on? A. No, you came in doors, and put them on and said, "I will go down the town and have my head dressed"—you were away about an hour, I was in bed when you came back, but I heard you come in.
COURT. Q. Had he not his boots on when he went out? A. No—I do not know whether he had anything the matter with his head when he came back.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
Before Mr. Recorder.
WILLIAM KING . I am the prisoner's father, and am a porter, living in Crofton Terrace, Richmond—the prisoner lived with me—on Wednesday morning, 11th, about half-past one, he was brought home drunk, put in doors, and the door shut; he began knocking the things about down stairs—he then went into his own room, where he and his brother slept—they got fighting with sticks, I got out of bed to separate them—after that his brother threatened to throw him down stairs and break his neck;" I said, "Don't hurt him;" he took him by the legs and threw him down head first—he then came up and put his clothes on—I heard the prisoner say, "If you come down stairs, I will have a knife for you"—I said, "Nonsense, don't talk like that"—it was all in darkness—a light was brought—he stood in a corner—my son Joe shoved me on one side, and said, "Father, let me put him down quiet on the sofa," he went to catch hold of him, and he was struck with the knife—I then caught hold of the prisoner's hand on one side and Joe on the other—a policeman came to the door—we had asked him to come before, and if he had come he would have saved us all—I went for a doctor—the prisoner was going on in a raving way—he did not know what he was doing—when I came back I found my son Joe lying on the floor vomiting—he had been stabbed just below the lower jaw, by the jugular vein.
Prisoner. Q. Did you hear me fall? A. I heard you knock the candlestick down—I heard your brother say, "Do not hit my face again"—I afterwards heard him threaten you if you did not leave him alone—you both had sticks, and were fighting with them when I came to separate you—my finger is broken now through separating you—your brother said, "Chuck him down easily"—he caught you by the collar of your coat and stood at the top of the stairs when you were slid down—you did not go head first against the door—your words were, "If he comes down here I will stick him"—you said, "Father, I do not want to hurt you"—I was by his side when he was stabbed.
EDWARD BROWNING . I was on duty in Crofton Terrace, and heard a great noise at Mr. King's house, who opened a bedroom window and said, "Take my son away, he is creating this disturbance"—I said, "I cannot come in, the door is locked"—he unlocked the door, and the prisoner rushed out with a knife in his hand—Joseph King said, "I am stabbed"—he was bleeding from the neck—his father went for a doctor.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you say before that I said that I would stab him? A. I heard you repeat that several times as you came down stairs—you held this knife (a carving knife) in your right hand.
I said first, but the second time I said, "If you are not quiet I will soon make you"—presently I got out of bed and got a stick, and he got a stick—I threw my stick down and we wrestled, he threw me down, and I got him and slid him down the stairs—I put my things on and saw him wrestling with my father at the front door, and he plunged a knife into my neck.
Prisoner. Q. Is it not a rule that if one of us is out late, to come and feel if the other is in bed? A. Yes, but you pulled me about—I do not know whether I offered you a stick or not, my memory is so bad through the affair—it was a dark night, but I could see you with a stick in your hand, the blind was not down—I challenged you with the stick—I do not recollect saying that I would smash you—I said that I would throw you down the stairs—I lugged you out of the room by the collar of your coat, and we fell on the landing—I said in my evidence, at Richmond, that my father was at the bottom of the stairs, I thought his voice sounded from there—I slid you down stairs by your legs, and you went head downwards—you stabbed me as soon as I got to the door—I do not believe you did it intentionally, I should be sorry to say so.
COURT. Q. Was there a light down stairs? A. There was a lamp in the street; there is no light over the door, but the light shone through the window right into the corner by the cupboard—if the door was not open you could not see into the corner where this occurred, only on the other side—when I went down I saw the prisoner and my father wrestling, but could not discern anything else—I saw the prisoner throw his arm over in this direction and felt the blow, but I should be sorry to think he intended it, and I hope you will deal as leniently as possible with him.
WILLIAM ANDERSON . I am a surgeon—I was called, and found the prosecutor bleeding from a punctured wound in the neck three-quarters of an inch wide—I did not probe it—it was such a wound as might be inflicted by a knife like this—it was serious, being close to the carotid artery—he was under my care for a week.
Prisoner's Defence. I went home worse for liquor, and, not knowing whether my brother had come home, felt to see whether he was in bed. He turned and knocked me backwards, got up, got a stick, and threatened to smash me; my father came in, and my brother threw me down stairs by the collar of my coat. I caught hold of a stick. I never attempted to stab him, and never stabbed him intentionally.
COURT to EDWARD BROWING. Q. Was he very drunk? A. Yes—I am not the person who brought him home.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding. Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor and Jury. — Six Months' Imprisonment .
Before Mr. Justice Shee.
Before Mr. Justice Smith.
GUILTY .— Eight Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
CHARLES IRELAND . I keep the Royal Edward public-house, Triangle, Hackney—I have known the prisoner some years—three or weeks ago he came in, had a glass of ale, produced two pawn tickets, and asked me to lend him a sovereign on them—I did so, and he went away, after asking me to advance him another half-crown, which I did, making 1l. 2s. 6d.—he said that he would return it next day, but did not—the ticket purports to be for a watch, pledged for 7l. by Robert Burls, of King's Road, Walworth—my son-in-law made inquiries, in consequence of which I gave information to the police—the prisoner said that it was his wife's watch.
DAVID TRIMWETT . I am manager to Edward William Burls, a pawnbroker, of King's Road, Walworth—this ticket for 7l. is forged—it is not in the writing of any one in our establishment—it could not have come from our establishment in the way of business, for if a watch was pawned for 7l., or for any sum exceeding 1l., there would be a coloured ticket, not a white one, as this is—that is the invariable rule—I do not know the prisoner, I never took in a watch of him for 7l.
JAMES HOW (Police Sergeant P 5). On the evening of 19th December I went to the prisoner's lodging and found him in bed; I said, "Kendrick, I hold a warrant for your apprehension for fraudently obtaining 1l. 2s. 6d. from Mr. Ireland at Hackney, by means of a false pawn ticket"—he said, "Oh! dear, you do not mean that"—I said, "Yes I do, and you must go with mo at once;" I showed him the ticket—he said, "Yes, that is right, and I am very sorry for it; I certainly did tell him a falsehood respecting the watch, for I was in great distress and I wanted the money; I purchased the ticket, and I went last night to try to find the man who I purchased it of, but was unable to find him; I told Mr. Ireland that it was my wife's watch, because I was in great distress"—I told him I did not wish to search his place, but what duplicates he had would he give up to me; he went to a box and produced these thirty-eight tickets, about a dozen of which are from Mr. Burl's; they are all white, and are for watches and rings, but none of them are over 5s.—some are pledged before the date of the ticket in question, and some since.
DAVID TRIMMETT (re-examined). These are genuine tickets from our establishment, and are for transactions in the ordinary course of business—I do not know who pawned the things; one is fourteen months ago, one ten months, one three months, and one at the beginning of December by a female—we do not give out our blank tickets or let people take them, but one might have been left on the counter in the hurry of business—one ticket has been taken and torn in two; we never issue the bottom of the ticket, it is left for the number, but they have used both.
Prisoner's Defence. I bought the tickets of a man, and I have been three times to see if I could find him, but could not. If Mr. Ireland had given me a little time I should have paid him; I told him I would pay him in a week, or as soon as I had got something to do. I had no intention of robbing him.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .