CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
FIFTH SESSION, HELD FEBRUARY 24TH, 1868.
MINUTES OF EVIDENCE,
TAKEN IN SHORT-HAND BY
JAMES DROVER BARNETT
Short-hand Writers to the Court,
ROLLS CHAMBERS, No. 89, CHANCERY LANE.
THE POINTS OF LAW AND PRACTICE
REVISED AND EDITED BY
EDWARD T. E. BESLEY, ESQ.,
OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE, BARRISTER-AT-LAW.
BUTTERWORTHS, 7, FLEET STREET,
Law Publishers to the Queen's Most Excellent Majesty.
On the Queen's Commission of
OYER AND TERMINER AND GAOL DELIVERY
The City of London,
AND GAOL DELIVERY FOR THE
COUNTY OF MIDDLESEX, AND THE PARTS OF THE COUNTIES OF ESSEX, KENT, AND SURREY WITHIN THE JURISDICTION
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT,
Held on Monday, February 24th, 1868, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Hon. Sir GEORGE WILLIAM WILSHERE BRAMWELL , Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; The Hon. Sir JAMES SHAW WILLES , Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; WILLIAM TAYLOR COPELAND , Esq.; DAVID SALOMONS , Esq., M.P.; THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS , Esq., and Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE , Knt., F.R.S.L. and F.R.G.S., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY , Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE Esq.; JOHN SILLS GIBBONS , Esq., and JOSEPH CAUSTON , Esq., Aldermen of the said City; and THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
ALLEN, MAYOR. FIFTH 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, February 24, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. POLAND for the Prosecution offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
CONRAD BLENCHLEY (Through an interpreter). I am a soap maker, of Zurich, and am living at Morris's lodging-house, Tower-hill—on the evening of 7th February, between twelve and one o'clock, I was in a public-house—I do not know the name of the street—I had two pints of beer there—I was alone—I saw the prisoners there, they seized me in the house, prevented my going out, and gave me some blows in the face, they then opened the door and threw me out into the street—I got up and they rushed on me again, McCarthy siezed me by the throat and held his hand on my mouth, Riley held me by my coat, tore it open and took my porte monnaie out of my pocket, which contained a sovereign, a half-crown, a florin, and sixpence, they then struck me again in the face several times, and went back into the public-house—there were a great many people in the public-house who took hold of me as well, but I do not know their names—the landlord laughed at it—I had never seen the prisoners before—I was about a quarter of an hour in the house.
Riley. You know I was not there, there was Another chap and a girl who you saw at first. Witness. Yes, I had two other persons taken in
custody, but I did not know what one of them had done, there was a woman with a child in the public-house, but I cannot say whether she took any part in the transaction. I have not sent to your relations to ask for money, but your mother offered me 2l.
JOHN STEPHENS (Policeman H 137). On 8th February Blenchley came to the station, about 12.30, he said something I could not understand, but by his motions I understood that he had been robbed. I followed him to Rosemary Lane, to the Blue Peter public-house, where he pointed out Michael McCarthy, who has been discharged by the Magistrate—afterwards, from what I heard at the public-house, I went back there and took Ellen McCarthy and Dennis McCarthy, who the prosecutor identified at the station—I told McCarthy he was charged with being concerned in robbing a German: he said that he knew nothing about it—the prosecutor's coat was open—he was excited, but I do not think by drink.
GEORGE PADVILLE (Policeman H 188). I took McCarthy to the station—he said "I am guilty but the female is not"—knowing the prisoners to be companions I apprehended Riley, between two and three o'clock, in Blue Anchor Yard, and told him the charge, he said that he knew nothing about it—the prosecutor said, through an interpreter, "That is the man who took the money out of my pocket."
Riley. Q. Was I standing at my door when you apprehended me? A. Yes, but I had seen you both together at a quarter to twelve.
McCarthy's Defence. One of the policemen threatened to lock me up for loitering about—I had not long been out of prison for eighteen months, and he knew I was a bad character.
McCARTHY— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted of larceny at Clerkenwell in 1865, to which he ADED GUILTY*†— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
RILEY— NOT GUILTY .
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
CHARLES STERRY . I am an officer in the Royal Mint, and live there—the prisoner was a house servant in my employ—he left on 2nd January. On Thursday, 23rd January, I received a key from a constable—this (produced) is it—it is the key of my wine cellar—I had not missed it—I last saw it in my wife's davenport; that was where it was ordinarily kept.
Cross-examined. Q. There is nothing about the key itself that makes you say it is yours. A. Yes there is a mark on it (pointing it out) it is a duplicate key—there were two keys of the wine cellar—this is one of them.
ALFRED CARTWRIGHT . I live at 24, Charlotte Street, Portland Place, and am porter at Shoolbred's, the linen drapers—the prisoner came to me on Sunday night, 28th December—he asked me to get him a lodging at the same part; where I was living, because he wanted to come up that way, as he was going to leave his situation at Mr. Sterry's—I had known him previously by seeing him and passing the morning—I got him a lodging at 22, Grafton Street, Tottenham Court Road, and on Wednesday, 22nd January, I went there to him—he asked me if I would spend an hour with him; I said I did not mind, and in the course of conversation he said he had a key belonging to Mr. Sterry's wine cellar, which he had in his pocket—he spoke about a secret, about, another key, the key of the davenport where Mrs. Sterry
kept her money—he said he had not got it in his possession now, but provided I could get the cook to fetch out some wine with the key he had, and which he would give me, he would let me know where he had the secret key of the davenport hid in the house—Howard is the cook's name, he knew the name and so did I—he asked me if she could be trusted—I said I did not think she would do such a thing—he gave me the key; this is it—he told me the way she could use it, that it was to be put in the lock upside down and reverse it, and to be sure not to take it out until such time as the door was shut—I put the key in my pocket—I invited the prisoner home to dinner, and detained him all day, expecting to find out where thekey of the davenport was; I could not do so—and I left him about twelve o'clock and went straight to Albany Street Police Court.
Cross-examined. Q. What had you to do with the cook. A. I am keeping company with her, and have done so for the last twelve months, before she went to Mr. Sterry's—the prisoner had not been keeping company with her—I know Sarah the housemaid—I never said in her presence that I would lay wait for the prisoner and give him a sound thrashing; I am certain of that—when I went to the prisoner's lodging, I told him that I wanted to get into the police—I told him I was trying to get into the Berks police—I did not ask him to sign any paper for me—I produced a paper—it was after I told him I was going into the police that he told me this story about the key—this is the paper I had—the prisoner has signed it, recommending me to the police—I did not ask him to do so—he said he could very easily get it filled up for me—I said I did not require it, as I had gentlemen belonging to myself who would fill it up—I was not present when he signed this paper, I went out for some beer, leaving the paper on the table, and when I came back I found he had signed it—he said "I have put my name down, I dare say that will do"—I said "It will not do, you have hardly known me three months, and this says three years"—it was after I came back with the beer that he told me about the key—I left him at the corner of Weymouth Street, Charlotte Street, Portland Place—he told me he had found the key under a black board in the pantry—that was afterwards, when he was at the police-station—he said it was very much like Mr. Sterry's key—he did not say that he intended to tell Mr. Sterry before he left, but he did not like to—he did not say that Sarah was present when he found it.
ISAAC MOULDER (Policeman S 43). On the morning of 23rd January, about half-an hour after midnight, Cartwright came and gave information to the acting inspector on duty, and from his instructions I went down to Leman Street station, and from instructions I received there I apprehended the prisoner about seven o'clock that same evening, at the corner of Devonshire Street and Charlotte Street—I told him I wanted him for the unlawful possession of a key belonging to Mr. Sterry—he said nothing.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you made inquiries about the prisoner? A. Yes; I found he had lived with the sister of Mr. Secretary Hardy, and in other respectable families.
SARAH MARIA STERRY . I am the wife of Charles Sterry—the prisoner was in our service—he left on 2nd January—I missed a key from my davenport on 23rd January—this is the key—I can't tell when I last saw it safe, I have so many keys—I don't know how it went away—I examined my davenport on 30th September last, and suspected that somebody had been at it.
Cross-examined. Q. How many keys had you of the cellar? A. Five duplicate keys; they were in my davenport—I can't swear that I had seen this particular key within six months of the prisoner's being given into custody—the five keys were all tied together with a piece of string—I know this is one of the keys that was in my davenport, because it is exactly like the others; that is the only reason I have for knowing it—I have not got the other keys here.
COURT. Q. Have you missed any key of your davenport? A. No, I have my own key of my davenport; there is only one key of it; that has not been missing at any time.
MR. STERRY (re-examined). There has been wine missing from the cellar, not before the prisoner left, because I had not examined the cellar; but I have examined since, and have missed thirteen bottles—I examined the cellar after the prisoner had been examined before the Magistrate; that was about three weeks after he had left me.
Witness for the Defence.
SARAH SOMERSET . I am in service at 1, Hanover Terrace, Notting Hill—I was fellow servant with the prisoner at Mr. Sterry's—in July I was helping him clean the pantry—a black, dirty board that was used to stand the hot water cans on was moved, and the prisoner picked up a key; this is it—I had not heard of any key being missed while I was there—neither of us knew to what lock it belonged—I know Sarah Howard, the cook—Cartwright was paying his addresses to her—I was in the kitchen when he threatened to give the prisoner a sound thrashing, and do him some harm if he possibly could, because he and the cook could not agree.
Cross-examined. Q. You saw this key found? A. Yes—the prisoner asked what key it was—he did not know—it was in a very dirty state—if he had known what key it was, I am sure he would have told me.
COURT. Q. When did you leave the service? A. On 2nd January, at the same time as the prisoner—I don't know what day it was we found the key; I know it was when Mr. and Mrs. Sterry were out of town—I left the service because Mrs. Sterry insisted upon my attending the Tower Church, which I objected to.
MR. STERRY (re-examined). We left town on 13th August.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
THOMAS WILLIAMS . I am a master plasterer, and live at 26, Baxter Road, Essex Road, Islington—about half-past eleven, on the night of the 10th February, I was coming up Baxter Road with a whip in my hand, and was met by the two prisoners—George came behind me, and William in front, and struck me a heavy blow, which caught me right in the eye—it must have been very great, because it broke my hat and sent it down the area—William tried to get my watch and chain—I said, "Do not take my watch and chain, I have had it for many years, take my money"—whilst he was pulling at my chain, the other prisoner stood on one side—I hollowed out, "Police," as loud as I could—the police came up in about five or ten minutes—the watch and chain was not taken—had not seen the men before—I dropped my whip at the time.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you had anything to drink that evening? A. I had three three's of brandy, that is all—I had not taken any malt for more than two years—I was not in the least intoxicated—I knew what I was about—there was nobody in the street at the first commencement of it, except the two men—several came up afterwards, when I hollowed out "Police" there might have been a dozen or more—I did not see anyone run away at the time I called out "Police;" I am certain of that—I did not say so before the Magistrate—I said that four of them had been together in the evening, and that two left them—I did not see anybody run away—William Smith struck me first with the hand he has got tied up—it was a violent blow—the watch was not taken out of my pocket—I am sure they laid hold of my chain.
FREDERICK BAKER (policeman N 288). About half-past eleven on the 11th February, I heard a cry of "Police" in Baxter Road—I went up, and saw the prisoners and prosecutor, and a female without a bonnet, who I believe to be the prosecutor's wife—William Smith was given into my custody—the other prisoner came behind, as I was taking him to the station, talking to a gentleman who was following up, until I met another constable, and he was then given into custody—I found eleven duplicates on William Smith—the prosecutor was not exactly sober; he had had a little, but he knew what he was about—I found his hat over in some railings—he was bleeding from the nose, and his eye was very much swollen—as we were going to the station, George Smith asked the prosecutor to have something to drink.
Cross-examined. Q. When the prosecutor gave William Smith into custody was it not for assaulting him? A. And attempting to rob him—he made that charge in George Smith's presence—he could have heard it—I did not notice that the prisoners were not sober—there were six or seven persons there when I came up.
JAMES ARMSTRONG (Policeman N 296). I took George Smith into custody—he said nothing—I had seen the two prisoners a short time before, at the top of Orchard Street, together—they were causing a disturbance in a public-house—I had to fetch them out, and when they got outside they took off their jackets, pretending to fight—they were not drunk.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN CHRISTIE DAVIS . I am a silversmith, of 44, Greek Street, Soho—on Sunday morning, 7th of February, about half-past twelve, I was passing from King Street into Queen Street, and the gentleman who knocked me down struck me a violent blow across the nose, which I feel the effects of up to this moment—I believe that to be the gentleman (Hunt)—when I fell, Whelan was meddling with my waistcoat pocket and rifling my pockets—he had his hands in all of them—I had a snuff-box in one pocket and 7s. in another, and my pocket-book and a pair of spectacles—they tore my pocket from my coat in taking the things from me—I had had a glass of gin or two with a few friends, but I knew perfectly well what I was about,
and, moreover, I took to the road that no one should interfere with me, and that I should not interfere with anybody—Whelan was taken when he came round to Bow Street to see how his friend got on—I knew him again—when I was knocked down the prisoner helped me up, and said, "Poor old man, what a shame to knock him about."
Hunt. Q. Are you sure it was me that struck you? A. I am—the policeman took you from me.
COURT. Q. Had you been in a public-house? A. No, with some private friends—I do not usually walk in the middle of the street when I am sober, but seeing two or three persons on the pavement, I supposed they might take advantage of me.
PHILIP HINDES (Policeman F 169). On Sunday morning, the 7th of February, about twenty minutes to one, I was on duty in Queen Street, Seven Dials, in plain clothes—I saw the prisoners there with several others standing on the kerb on the left-hand side of the street—I saw Davis walking down the middle of the street—Hunt left the pavement, walked into the middle of the street, and took a deliberate aim at him and struck him a violent blow on the nose—he staggered some six or seven yards back, then he over-recovered himself and fell on to his hands—Hunt walked back on to the pavement—while he was on the ground, Whelan walked off the pavement, took hold of his left arm, and said, "What a d—shame to use an old man like that"—as there was a large mob of thieves there I did not interfere, but I watched them—they took him in the direction of King Street, Long Acre—I crossed and got in front of them—at that moment Hunt came up and took hold of the prosecutor's right arm—Whelan was leading him along—they commenced shouting "Police" then—as they were leading him along, I saw Whelan's hand in the prosecutor's waistcoat pocket—some woman called out, "Mark the copper," which means that a policeman is coming—Whelan then ran away—I was about to pursue him, and a woman ran right in front of me and prevented me—seeing that he could run too fast, I stopped—a mob immediately gathered round, and Hunt was about shifting out of the crowd when 171 F came up and took him into custody—I afterwards went to the station and found Whelan in custody, and they were both charged—Davis had been drinking, but he knew perfectly well what he was about—he was sensible—I know the prisoners, and know them to be companions.
WILLIAM SMALL (Policeman F 171). I was on duty in King Street, Long Acre, on this morning—I heard shouts of "Police," and saw the prosecutor there and Hunt with him—Whelan was about forty yards off, in the crowd—the prosecutor gave Hunt into custody for assaulting him and assisting to rob him—I took him to the station—Whelan afterwards came to the station to inquire about him, and he was taken—I found on Hunt 2d. and a knife—nothing was found on Whelan.
Hunt's Defence. I was going home at a quarter to one, and saw this man quite drunk, he could hardly walk—he fell on his nose—I picked him up and put him on his feet again out of kindness.
Whelan's Defence. I was at my master's place, 15, White Lion Street, Seven Dials—I went there at ten minutes to twelve, and never came out till ten minutes to seven—I heard of this as I was going along King Street, and knowing a friend of Hunt's I went to the station to see if he was kept there, and the policeman stopped me.
GUILTY .†— Twelve Months each .
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES PETRE . I am a stoker on board the Laeda, lying at East Lane—the prisoner was a stoker on board the same ship—she runs to Oporto, in Portugal—on Friday morning, 7th February, about half-past nine, I missed my waistcoat, containing six sovereigns in a purse, and half-a-crown in a pocket by itself—the sovereigns were wrapped up in a piece of paper—one of them was a dragon sovereign—I had come on board the Laeda from Dieppe, a little after twelve that night, and I put my waistcoat in the head of my trunk in the forecastle—the prisoner's trunk was near mine—I gave the prisoner into custody on the Monday following—I saw his trousers examined, and five sovereigns wrapped in paper fonud in them—they were in two papers, one of the papers was like mine—I had changed a seovereign at Dieppe—the prisoner drew three or four shillings—I cannot say the exact amount—I know the trousers were his, because he claimed them and they were in his trunk.
JOHN HIGGINS . I am landlord of the Three Mariners public-house, Bermondsey—the prisoner has been accustomed to frequent my house for three or four years past—just before the Laeda left for Dieppe I let him have 5s. to forward to his wife—he did not ask me for it—he was going to send 5s. himself, and I thought it was rather a small amount for his wife and family, and I added 5s.—I had done so on several occasions—I saw him on his return from Dieppe; he then paid me the 5s., and gave me a pound to send to his wife.
WILLIAM ROBSON (Thames Police Inspector.) The prisoner was given into my custody on the 10th of February—I asked what money he had in his possession; he said "16 or 18 shillings."—I then took him to the forecastle—he pointed out his berth, and I took out of his berth a pair of trousers—he said they were his, and in the pocket I found five sovereigns—one of them was a dragon sovereign—they were wrapped in two papers—in another part of his berth, in a waistcoat pocket, I found six half-crowns and a florin, and loose in his berth I found 9d. in halfpence.
Prisoner's Defence. The money was my own.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment .
MR. BRINDLEY conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HENRY TRANFORD (City Policeman 981). About half-past one in the morning of 25th January I met the prisoner at Holborn Bars—I observed something bulky in an apron in front of him; he was wearing several aprons—I stopped him—I found that he had a clock in the apron—I took him to the station, and besides the clock I found four composing sticks, made of metal, three packets of bronze powder, three printer's aprons, which he was wearing, and five linen collars—he was about a quarter of a mile from the prosecutor's warehouse when I met him.
WILLIAM BROOKS . I am a printer, of 8, Johnson's Court, Fleet Street—the things produced are mine, and were safe in my warehouse on the night of the 24th January—next morning we found the place had been broken
open and the things gone—we occupy the whole of the house—no one sleeps on the premises—the prisoner was in my employ about two years ago.
WILLIAM SIMMONDS (City Policeman 461). On Saturday morning, 25th January, at nine o'clock, I went to the prosecutor's premises—I found an entry had been made by the area leading to the basement, by breaking a paper where a pane of glass had been broken, and by that means admitting a hand to undo the hasp of the window—that would give access to the warehouse.
JOSEPH CRABB . I am a machine minder in the prosecutor's employ—the prisoner was in their employ under me two years ago—on Friday, the 24th January, I left all fastened up, as usual, quite safe—about ten minutes or a quarter past eight next morning I found the paper broken and the window unbolted, and I missed the articles—I know the clock and the composing sticks.
Prisoner's Defence. On the night in question a man named Samson, who the officer knows, asked me if I would go and carry some things for him—he left me at the corner of Johnson's Court—he went up the Court and came back about one o'clock with a coat—he said "Put this on, it will keep you dry;" it was raining at the time—it felt heavy, as there were things in the pocket—I did not touch them—he gave me the aprons—he left me in Holborn, and the constable stopped me—I did not know they were stolen.
GUILTY OF RECEIVING .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY:—
222. ARTHUR ABLETT (23) , to unlawfully damaging a window, the property of John Keene and another.—** [Pleaded guilty: See original trail image.] Eighteen Months' Imprisonment, and then to find sureties to keep the peace for twelve months .
223. THOMAS CHILDS (28) , to two indictments for embezzling 11l. 18s. and other sums of Henry Jeeks Dixon and another, his masters.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trail image.] Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
225. JAMES LEWIS (26) , to burglary in the dwelling-house of William Neasby, and stealing three boxes, having been before convicted of felony.—** [Pleaded guilty: See original trail image.] Ten Years' Penal Servitude
NEW COURT.—Monday, February 24th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
—on 7th January, about five o'clock, Sullivan came into the public-house, and asked for twopennyworth of rum—I served her, and she paid with a florin—I gave her 1s., 6d., and 4d. change—I put the florin on the mantelshelf—when she had left, I found it was bad, and marked it—about seven o'clock Sullivan came in again for three half-pennyworth of rum—she paid for it with another bad florin—I then showed her the other florin—she said she had not been there before—I am quite sure she had—I afterwards gave her in custody with the florins—a young man, named Collinberg, came in about seven o'clock, after the second uttering, and I sent him for a constable.
Smith. Q. Did you ever see me in your house? A. No, not to my knowledge—you came in after Mr. Collinberg, and you were given into custody.
CHARLES COLLINBERG . I am cab driver 15, 246—on the evening of 15th January I was in Goodman's Yard, at a little before seven o'clock, and saw the prisoners there talking—Sullivan took a comforter which Smith had round his neck, and put it round her's—he stood on the opposite side, and she went into the Coach and Horses and called for three-halfpennyworth of rum—I followed her in, and fastened the door—she threw down a florin—the woman said, "This is a bad one, and you have been here before"—she said that she had never been in the house—I went over to Smith, and said, "You are wanted in the house, there is some rum and water for you"—as we passed through the cab-rank I heard something drop, and said, "You have dropped something"—he said, "I have not"—I saw a florin, which was wrapped up in a torn piece of tissue paper, and gave it to the constable—he said that he did not know the woman.
DANIEL ILDRIDGE (City Policeman 792). I was called into the Coach and Horses, and the prisoners were given into my custody, with three florins—Smith said that he did not know the woman—Sullivan had on the scarf she wears now—at the station Smith asked me if he could have the scarf the woman was wearing, as it was his, and his neck was cold—I refused to give it to him—I searched him, and found five shillings, four sixpences, and 1s. 1/2d. in copper, good money.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment each .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and Straight conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
EMMA YOUNG . I am the daughter of George Young, a baker, of Edmonton—on Friday evening, 31st January, the boy Tuffnell came in, at a little after eight, for a half-quartern loaf, which came to 4½d., and handed me a half-crown—I gave him the loaf and the change—the shop was full—I thought the half-crown looked bad, and put it on a ledge by itself—I afterwards tried it, found it was bad, marked it on the nose, and gave it to the constable.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you serving alone? A. Yes; there were three customers—there was no other money on the ledge.
MR. CRAUFURD. Q. Did you receive any other half-crown from any other customer? A. No.
JOHN TUFFNELL . I am between thirteen and fourteen years old, and am potboy at the Golden Lion, Edmonton—I had been taking out beer, and as I came back, met the two prisoners not very near the Golden Lion—Mumford said to me, "Boy, will you go and fetch me a half-quartern loaf, and I will give you a halfpenny"—he gave me a half-crown—I went to Mr. Young's, bought the bread, gave the half-crown, and received the change, which I gave to Mumford—Boulton was standing at the side of the railway, not very far off—they were close together when I took the half-crown.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen the prisoners before? A. No; but I am sure they are the men.
JOHN HOWLETT (Police Sergeant Y 17). On 31st January I received information, and found the prisoners opposite the White Horse, Edmonton, about a mile from Mr. Young's—my son was in advance of me—he followed them up, and when I got within a yard or two of them they turned round and faced me—I saw a motion, stepped forward, and siezed Boulton—another constable siezed Mumford—I saw Boulton's left hand go backwards from him, and heard something fall—I said, "See what they have thrown away"—my son picked up something, and held it up to me, but I could not see what it was—I told Boulton he was charged with uttering counterfeit coin—he said, "You are mistaken"—we took them to the station, where my son handed me this glove (produced)—I found in it two sealed packets containing ten half-crowns, two other half-crowns in an opened packet, and a counterfeit half-sovereign—I found on Boulton the glove containing the money, three florins, 4s. 6d. in silver, and a Hanoverian medal in his purse, and 4½d. in copper in his waistcoat pocket—he had this old cap in his pocket, some loose paper, and part of a half-quartern loaf—he said, in Mumford's presence, "Mind you, I had none of that; I am innocent of this"—I found on Mumford 6s. in silver, and 1s. 11d. in copper, all good—I received this half-crown (produced) from Emma Young.
JOHN WILLIAM HOWLETT . I am a son of the last witness—he sent me after the prisoners—I saw them coming towards me, and turned round and followed them to the White Horse—they were talking together—when the prisoners were taken I picked up this glove, tied up—I touched Boulton in picking it up—I have heard what my father has stated, it is correct.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the two policemen catch hold of Boulton. A. Yes, and I saw it fall.
GUILTY . Twelve Months' Imprisonment each .
MR. CRAUFURD Prosecuted. MR. PATER Defended Wood.
SARAH HARRISON . My husband keeps an eating-house, at 24, Queen's Road, Chelsea—On 12th February I was serving in the shop, and Cook came in for a pennyworth of pudding, she gave me a bad shilling, which I gave back to her—she said that she had only three farthings—I took the pudding back, gave her the shilling, and told my husband, who went after her.
CHARLES HARRISON . My wife pointed out Cook to me and I followed her towards Battersea Bridge, and saw her communicate with Wood—they walked on a very few paees, and Cook went across the road to Duggan, who stood facing the river—they talked together and something passed between them—Cook then walked towards Battersea Bridge, and Duggan turned to the water-side, and made an underhand movement towards the water, as of throwing something away—he then went on towards the bridge—Wood crossed to the river and he approached her, and nodded towards me—Wood immediately looked at me—they halted, and I was obliged to keep my pace and pass them—when they got to Cadogan Pier they held a communication, and I saw Harriet Cole, and pointed out two of the prisoners to her, when I was behind a timber carrirge, and Cook passed me at the time—Wood left Duggan, who walked on by himself and passed me again, and I lost sight of her at an angle of the road—I got 112 T., returned with him, and saw Wood going towards Battersea Bridge—I pointed her out, and took Duggan by the throat—the constable took the women.
HARRIETT COLE . My husband is a waterman—Harrison pointed out Cook and Wood to me, and I saw them join and stand talking for a few minutes—when they got to Sun Street, Cook said to Wood "I have not ab—y shilling"—I saw Cook as if giving something to Wood, and they went on together.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Were you near Sun Court? A. I was close by it—Wood had entered the Court—she and Cook had the opportunity of seeing me.
EDWIN CASTRO (Policeman T 112). Harrison pointed out the three prisoners to me, and as soon as they saw me they separated—Wood went on to Battersea Bridge—I went after her and caught her in my arms, in the act of throwing something into the river, whch dropped from her hand—I picked it up, it was seven counterfeit shillings, separately wrapped in paper—I then took Cook and told her the charge—she said nothing—I searched Duggan at the station, and found 2 ½d. in copper in a purse, and two pawn tickets—an ounce of sugar, a packet of pins, and a gold eyeglass were found by the female searcher, who said in the female prisoners' presence that they were found on them.
Duggan's Defence. I was going towards Battersea—I do not know either of the women.
GUILTY . Nine Months' Imprisonment each .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH HOBBS . I am the wife of John Hobbs, who keeps the Weaver's Arms, Whitechapel Road—on 6th January, about two o'clock in the day, I served the prisoners with some rum and bread and cheese, which came to fourpence halfpenny—I saw a half-crown lying on the counter—I do not know which of them laid it down—I took it up, tried it, and told them it was bad—Newman said that she thought she gave, me a florin—I said, "Oh dear no, it was a half-crown, for I have not opened the till"—Newman took the half-crown and gave me a good florin—they both said that they knew where they took the half-crown, and mentioned some tradesman's name in
Kingsland Road—I gave them the change, and they left together—I afterwards spoke to Mr. Payne.
Newman. I had no half-crown; it was a florin. Witness. It was a half-crown, and you took it back and said that you knew where you took it.
HENRY PAYNE . I live at 40, The Terrace, Upper Clapton—on 5th January I was in the Weaver's Arms parlour and saw the prisoners at the bar, and went out after them in consequence of what Mrs. Hobbs said. I followed them to Serjeant's the hairdressers—Newman went in, Godwin was on the other side—Newman came out, and crossed the road to Godwin, and they walked on—I went into Mr. Serjeant's and then followed them to Mrs. Thorpe's—Godwin went in there, and Newman stopped outside—Godwin came out and joined Newman—I spoke to Mrs. Thorpe, and when I came out Newman had gone over to Glover's, and Godwin was on the other side—Newman came out and joined Godwin, and I followed them to the Rochester Castle—Newman went in and Godwin remained outside—I spoke to two constables, and N 49 took Godwin outside—I told him, in her presence, that he had better take her for passing bad money—she said nothing—I went inside with N 249—Newman was at the bar, and I said "That is the the other one, take her likewise for passing bad money"—she said nothing.
JAMES SERJEANT. I am a hairdresser, at 7, Abney Park Terrace, Stoke Newington—on 25th January Newman came in for a row of beads, which came to 6d.—she gave me a half-crown, the date was 1818—I gave her the change and she left—I put the half-crown in my purse—it was the only one there—I looked at it when Payne spoke to me, and found it was bad—I went out with him, followed the prisoners, and saw Newman go into Mrs. Stone's shop—after she came out I went in, and Miss Hodgins opened the till, and showed me a bad half-crown—I marked it, and gave it to the police.
MARIA THORPE . I keep a fancy shop, at 7, High Street, Stoke Newington—on 25th January Godwin came in and bought this doll (produced) for 6d. and gave me a half-crown—I gave her the change and put it in the till—there was no other half-crown there—she left—Payne came in—I found the half-crown was bad, marked it and gave it to N 249.
Godwin. Q. Was it passed to anybody else. A. Yes, but I did not lose sight of it.
LATITIA HODGINS . I am at Mrs. Stone's, baby linen shop, High Street, Stoke Newington—on 25th January Newman came in for a packet of violet powder, which came to fivepence-halfpenny—she gave me a half-crown, and I gave her change—I put it in the copper part of the till by mistake, and then took it and put it with the silver—it was on the top—almost as soon as she went out Serjeant came in—I took up the bowl out of the till and told him it was the top one—I am quite sure he took out the one Newman gave me—this is the powder (produced).
Newman. Q. Did you not rake the money over to find two shillings? A. Yes; but it was among the copper then—I do not know how many half-crowns were in the bowl.
JAMES EDWARDS (Policeman N 49). I took Godwin, and told her it was for being concerned with another woman in uttering counterfeit coin—she wanted to know who the other woman was. I pointed Newman out to her, coming out of the Rochester Castle—she said "I do not know her"—I took her to the station and received from the Inspector, in her presence, a bag containing these black beads, doll, and violet powder—she gave up a purse containing 3s. 6d.
JOHN HAWKINS (Policeman N 249). I took Newman at the Rochester Castle and told her the charge—she merely nodded her head—I took her to the station, and received from the searcher a paper containing a half-crown, a florin, a sixpence, and fivepence farthing in copper—When I put the prisoners into the dock at the station, Godwin said to Newman "Hold your noise and say nothing"—I received these two bad half-crowns from Mr. Serjeant and this other from Mrs. Thorpe.
ELIZABETH WEBB . I am female searcher at Stoke Newington police-station—I searched Newman, and found on her 6s. 5¼d., and on Godwin a string of beads, and this doll, a large key, and 3s. 4d. in good money.
JAMES SERJEANT (Re-examined.) These beads are what I supplied to Newman.
Newman's Defence. None of them were marked till they were mixed, and it is impossible to say it is the same piece.
Godwin's Defence. She only knows me by my voice—two persons' voices may be alike—she does not positively swear to me.
NEWMAN— GUILTY . She was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence in 1865, to which she PLEADED GUILTY.—** Five Years Penal Servitude . GODWIN— GUILTY . She was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence at the same time.
CHARLES EASON (Policeman N 342). I was present at the two prisoners' former trial—Godwin was convicted in the name of Elizabeth Newman the younger; they are mother and daughter. GODWIN— GUILTY . Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
235. FRANCIS DEAKIN (27), PLEADED GUILTY> to embezzling the sums of 19l. 6s. 7d., 63l. 17s. 10d., and 6l. 2s. 10d., also other sums, of Robert Jones and others, his masters. He received a good character. Strongly recommended to mercy, by the Prosecutors.— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH BOYCE . I am barmaid at the British Stores public-house, St. John's Wood—on the 31st of January I served the prisoner with three-pennyworth of brandy—she tendered a bad florin—I bent it, and gave it to my mistress, who asked the prisoner where she took it—she said that she did not know—she paid with a good sixpence, and left—I identified her that evening at the station.
JAMES MARHAM . I am a bricklayer—Mrs. Morris pointed out the prisoner to me—I followed her and saw Clark take her in custody—I received this florin (produced) from Mrs. Morris, which I handed to Clark, and got back from the inspector.
Prisoner. Q. How far did you follow me? A. Nearly a mile—you went into the Eyre Arms and into the Knight of St. John—a man who afterwards said he was your husband was at the Eyre Arms.
Adelaide Road, and told her the charge—she said that she knew nothing of it—I took from her hand a purse containing two threepenny pieces and a bad florin—I told her it was bad—she made no answer—a man was taken, but was discharged—I was in the passage at the time—I did not hear him say anything about her being his wife.
ELIZABETH FEVER . I am the wife of Henry Fever—I searched the prisoner at the station, and found eleven bad florins wrapped in a piece of paper, with paper between each coin—she said "Oh, they are bad ones;" I said "Yes, I know they are."—I gave them to the inspector.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know the florin was bad—I had taken a good deal to drink—I picked up a brown paper parcel, in an enclosure in Baker Street, containing these florins—I did not put them all in my purse, because I intended to let my husband know it—when I found they were bad I did not throw them away, as anybody else might pick them up, but intended to take them home and put them in the fire.
GUILTY . She was further charged of having been before convicted of a like offence at this Court in the name of Charlotte King, in January, 1867, to which she PLEADED GUILTY. Five Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN PYNE . On 28th January the prisoners came to my shop, 79, Fulham Road—Lewis asked for half-an-ounce of tobacco, which came to three half-pence—Vickers took it up—Lewis gave me a half-crown, which I returned to her, and told her to go and get change for it—as they were going out I said "Come here, I will see if I can manage it for you"—I took the half-crown and said "This is a bad one"—Lewis said she would run and fetch the person they took it of—I sent for a policeman, and they ran away—I next saw them nearly a fortnight afterwards, in a cell of the police court—I gave the half-crown to 196 B.
ELIZABETH CHALLENZER . I am the wife of William Challener, and keep a hairdresser's shop, 14, Upper Hart Street, Marylebone—on 4th February the prisoners came in—I served Lewis with two-pennyworth of Berlin wool—she gave me a shilling, which I put into a bowl where there was only a half-crown and a florin—I did not give her change, as a constable came in and said "What money have you taken"—I gave him the coin, he bent it with his fingers on the counter, and said that it was bad.
AARON BELLINGHAM (Policeman D 24). On 4th February, about a-quarter to eight, I saw the prisoners with two young men—the prisoners went into Mr. Challener's shop—I stood at the door, and saw Lewis push a shilling, so—I went in and asked Mrs. Challener what she had taken—she said "1s."—I
bent it in the prisoners' presence and said that it was bad—Lewis began to cry, and said "Oh let me go"—I said "No, I cannot; I have followed you from another shop"—I afterwards received another shilling from the female searcher, and a third from a shop in Stingo Lane, where I saw them go in.
JANE LANNING . I am searcher at John Street Station—I searched Lewis but found nothing—I took off Vickers' dress, shook it, and 1s. fell out—I asked her where it came from, she said from her pocket—I picked it up, it was bad, and I gave it to D 24.—I found some Berlin wool on her.
Vickers's Defence. I was not aware they were bad.
Lewis's Defence. My father gave me 6d. to go to the play—I met Vickers and two young men—she said she had got 3s., but would not tell me where she got them—I went with her—I had no idea they were bad.
VICKERS GUILTY . Nine Months' Imprisonment .
LEWIS GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing her to be the agent of Lewis. Four Months' Imprisonment .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, February 25th, 1868.
Before, Mr. Recorder.
239. JOHN DAVIS (32) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Crapp, and stealing therein three coats and other articles, his property.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Nine Months' Imprisonment.
242. JOSEPH LANGLEY (40) , to stealing a shirt, two pairs of drawers, and other articles of the inhabitants of the County of Middlesex, his masters.— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] One Month's Imprisonment.
MR. OPPENHEIM conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SLEIGH the Defence.
EDWARD MAGNUS . I am a shoe manufacturer, of 1, St. Mary Axe—I have known the prisoner some time—I was in the habit of doing business with him—on the 25th November last, he was indebted to me about 40l.—he wanted some more goods, and I refused to credit him—he said he had 51l. owing to him by Mr. Toby, and if I would let him have the goods he would bring me the money back—I then let him have goods to the amount of about 21l., but he had goods almost every day after that—I let him have
them, because I thought he would bring me the money back; he did bring me a part of it, perhaps half of it—I continued to supply him with goods up to about the middle of January, altogether to the amount of nearly 300l. out of that he paid me nearly 200l.
MR. OPPENHEIM here withdrew from the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS
HENRY PRIOR . I am warehouseman and manager to Mrs. Burt, of 10, Aldermanbury; she is in the stuff and fancy dress trade—on the 31st January last, the prisoner came into the warehouse, in the usual way that he had done many times before, and said, "I have called for a sheet of goods for Mr. Johnson"—I gave it to him; it contained fancy mohair dresses, about 1280 yards, to the amount of about 29l.—I gave him the goods, because we had been in the habit of doing it for years in that way to carriers—Johnson is our carman, and has been for years—he sends his man round to inquire if we have got goods, and in the afternoon he sends for them and we deliver them, with an invoice and a note for the customer to sign—I never saw these goods again.
Cross-examined. Q. What time of day was this? A. I should think near three o'clock; I do not say to half an hour—we never take receipts from the carman; we give them receipts to get signed and bring back to us—Johnson has four or five carmen coming to our place—I had known the prisoner for a long time in Johnson's employ.
GEORGE JOHNSON . I am a master carman, of 136, Milk Street, Cheapside—I have been employed by Mrs. Brett for some years—the prisoner was in my employment, but I discharged him about three weeks before the 31st January—he did not bring me any goods on that day, and I gave him no authority to get any.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you tell the prosecutor where to find him? A. No.
DAUSIN POOLE . I was in the service of Mrs. Brett on 31st January—I saw the prisoner that day at the warehouse—he came in and asked if there was a sheet for Johnson—I said, "Yes"—a little while after he came in again and asked if anybody had been—I said, "No"—he said, "They will be here directly"—I have no doubt the prisoner is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Is this the first time you have given your evidence? A. Yes—I was before the Magistrate, but they only asked me a question—I do not know whether it was taken down—this was about half-past two—I can't say the time exactly; it was after dinner.
ROBERT HEWITSON (City Policeman). I took the prisoner into custody on 6th February—I told him he might consider himself in custody, as I was a police officer, for obtaining a sheet of goods from No. 10, Aldermanbury—he said, "I know nothing about it"—I said, "Mr. Prior says you are the man"—he said, "That is a lie, I know"—I asked him where he was on Friday, the 31st—he said, "Hanging about."
MR. WILLIAMS called the following witnesses for the Defence:—
JAMES SPIERS . I live in Milton Street, City, and am a harness maker—I have known the prisoner about two and a half years—I remember Friday, 31st of last month, well—I saw the prisoner on that day—he came to my house about ten minutes or a quarter past one, while I was at my dinner—I left at two, to go back to my business—I asked him to stop, as it was a dull, miserable day—I returned at five, and found him I might say, in the same position as when I left him—I left my wife and daughter there with him—I know this was on the 31st, because he had stated to me the day previous that he had an engagement to go to a new place on the Saturday, meaning the 1st February.
Cross-examined. Q. Used he often to come to your house? A. Sometimes once or twice a week, or three times—he came first merely as a friend—for the last three weeks, while he was out of employment, he did not come more frequently—I heard of his being in trouble the same day he was taken, that was on the 6th—I remembered then that he was with me on the 31st—I gave evidence before the Magistrate—the prisoner is no relation of mine, only a friend.
EMMA SPIERS . I am the wife of the last witness—I know the prisoner—I remember his being at our house on 31st January, at a few minutes after one—my husband came in at the time, and went away a few minutes after two—the prisoner remained till a quarter-past six in the evening—he did not leave my premises all that time; I am certain of that—I recollect it was on the 31st, because of words that transpired between my husband and the prisoner—he was going to his new situation on the Saturday morning, 1st February.
Cross-examined. Q. How far is your place from Mrs. Brett's, in Aldermanbury? A. It is just across the bottom of Milton Street—I don't think it is two minutes' walk—the prisoner was at our house two or three times a week—I noticed the time he came on the 31st, because my husband came in exactly at one o'clock—the prisoner did not come any other day at dinner time, he has been of an evening—I was in the same room with him all the time he was there.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Did you give evidence before the Magistrate? A. Yes—I am certain of the day, because he said he was going to his new situation next day
EMMA SPIERS, JUN . I am the daughter of the last witness—I remember the 31st January quite well—I know the prisoner—I saw him on that day, at a few minutes after one—my father went away after his dinner—the prisoner remained at our house till a quarter-past six—I was in the same room with him all the time—he did not leave the room.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you sure of the time he arrived at your father's house? A. Yes, about a quarter-past one, as near as could be; it was not half-past—I was in the room all the time, up to six.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
Hitchin, amongst which were twenty cheeses—I saw them placed on one of the Great Northern Railway Company's vans—they were all marked with the letter "H"—I believe this (produced) to be one of those I sent.
EDWARD SOAR . I am a carman in the service of the Great Northern Railway Company—about twenty minutes past five on 29th January I received twenty cheeses from Shelstone. I took them in the van to Mint Street Station, and forwarded them to Hitchin—I left all the cheeses there—they were all safe, as far as I know—I did not examine them particularly—I passed down St. Mary-at-Hill on my way to the station, and stopped somewhere about Cross Lane—that was about six o'clock.
HENRY WILLIS . I am in the service of Keysall & Co.—on 29th January I marked some cheeses with the letter "H, "—this produced is one of them—it is marked with the initial of the customer's name, Halson.
ARTHUR WILLIAM SLIGHT . I am a checker in the Mint Street Station—on 29th January I received some cheeses from Soar and placed them in the railway cart 7124, to go to Hitchin—I did not count them, all I did was to push on what the carman delivered to me—I usually count the goods, but on account of my leaving I left a man to count them—he said he thought there were only nineteen on the following morning, but he could not give me a decided answer.
CHISTOPHER SHAPLAND . I am foreman and porter at the Hitchin Station, in the employment of the Great Northern Railway Company—on 30th January, about half-past eight, a.m., I checked off the cheeses that came down from London in cart 7124—there were only nineteen—they were similar to the one produced, and bore the same mark—I expected to have received twenty.
WALTER THOMAS . I am a labourer, and live at 9, Henry Street, Kent Road, Borough—the prisoner is a stranger to me—on 29th January I was in Cross Lane—the prisoner came to me and offered me a cheese for 2s.—I said I did not want it, I had no money—it was at 4, Cross Lane, close to St. Mary-at-Hill—he asked me into a public-house to have a pint of beer, and then drank it all himself—as soon as he got inside the door he threw the cheese into a box behind the door—a policeman came in and took it out, and asked me who owned it—I said I did not—he asked the prisoner, and he denied knowing the cheese at all, but was taken in custody.
WILLIAM BALDWIN (City Policeman 737). On 29th January, a few minutes past six in the evening, from information, I went to Cross Lane, St. Mary—at Hill, and in a public-house I saw the prisoner—there was a cheese under the seat—I asked if it belonged to him, and where he got it—he said it did not belong to him; he knew nothing about it—I said "You were offering it for sale just now in Cross Lane; you must give me some account of it."—Thomas said "Why you offered it to me for 2s."—the prisoner said "A man gave it me to sell for him for 2s."—I said "Where is the man?"—he said he did not know—I said "Where were you going to meet him to pay him the 2s.?"—he said he did not know—I did not know anything about the loss of the cheese at that time—I made inquiries, and found it belonged to Mr. Keysall.
Prisoner's Defence. A man came up and asked me if I would buy it—I said No; but I would go and sell it for him.
GUILTY * on the Second Count.— Six Months' Imprisonment .
JAMES BRAY BRAYBROOKE (Policeman H 92). On the afternoon of 10th February, about two o'clock, I was on Tower Hill—there was a crowd there—I saw the prisoner, and heard a gentleman say, "You have got something in your pocket that does not belong to you."—I took hold of the prisoner—he said, "Did you see me take it?"—the gentleman said "No."—I searched the prisoner, and found this purse (produced) on him—I opened it, and he saw what was in it—I said, "What is in the purse?"—he said, "Some papers belonging to my mother"—there were ten duplicates in it.
Prisoner. Q. Did I say, at the time the gentleman said "You have got something in your pocket," that I picked it up out of the gutter. A. No; you said the papers belonged to your mother.
FERDINAND JAGER . On 10th February I was on Tower Hill, and saw the prisoner with three or four others, they gave me some suspicion—I saw a party standing beside me go before some ladies and gentlemen—all at once he came to the prisoner and wanted to hand something to him, he did not take it quickly enough, and the other party put it in his pocket—I heard some one call out "Slip," and they separated—I laid hold of the prisoner and said, "Hollo, young man, you have something in your pocket that does not belong to you"—someone behind me gave me a knock in the neck—I looked round, but he ran off—I told the policeman the man must have known it was put in his pocket.
ELLEN SULLIVAN . I am the wife of Jeremiah Sullivan—about two o'clock in the afternoon of 10th February I was on Tower Hill, and missed my purse—this (produced) is it—the duplicates in it are mine—they were safe at one o'clock—I did not feel it taken.
THE JURY wished to find the prisoner Guilty of receiving, but there being no Count for receiving THE COUR directed a verdict of Not Guilty, and ordered another bill for receiving to be preferred.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, February 25, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
247. THOMAS ALLEN (24), and THOMAS GRANT (22) , stealing a coat of Herbert Chappell, both having been previously convicted. GRANT PLEADED GUILTY to the whole charge.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .— ALLEN PLEADED GUILTY to the present charge only.
ALLEN.— GUILTY .**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
(250) JOHN ROBERTS (15) , to breaking and entering the dwellinghouseof Edward Bird and stealing therein one clock and other articles his property— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Six Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND and BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS GEORGE LOVELL . I am a book-keeper in the service of Mr. Simmonds, veterinary surgeon, of the Minories—I left there on 9th January, about 8 o'clock—I was perfectly sober, and was walking towards Finsbury Square—there is a covered entrance near Broad Street Railway Station—and as I passed there four men rushed out on me, one came on each side, and each took one of my arms—the other two stood immediately in front of me—a gas-light at my back threw a strong light on their faces—the prisoner is one of them—the glare was so strong that he turned his face away that I should not recognize him—he undid my chain, unbuttoned my waistcoat, detached my watch from the swivel, and passed it to one on his left, and they ran down the passage—I followed but could not overtake them—my watch was picked up and returned to me on the spot—I gave it to the police—I received information a few days afterwards, saw the prisoner at the Mansion House, and recognized him immediately—I had mentioned his height and description to the police—I was not struck.
He was further charged with having been convicted.
GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.—There was another similar indictment against the prisoner.
252. WILLIAM DANIELS (13), CHARLES TURNER (14), THOMAS THOROUGHGOOD (13), and JAMES LEARY (12) , burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of James William Bradshaw, and stealing therein ten pounds of biscuits, his property, to which THOROUGHGOOD and LEARY PLEADED GUILTY . Three Years each in a Reformatory.
MR. COLLINS for the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH BRADSHAW . I am the wife of James Bradshaw, of 20, Hancock Road, in the parish of Bromley—on 21st June between one and two in the night I was waiting for my husband, and was lying on my bed with my baby—I heard a noise and then heard a fall—I went down stairs and unlocked the parlour door, but could not get it open—I opened the street door, and then forced open the parlour door a little way and found some chairs were placed against it—the back parlour window was thrown up and a square of glass was broken, which gives light to the shop, it had been cracked previously—the padlock was wrenched off the door leading from the parlour into the shop, but it was not unlocked—I ran into the street and gave an alarm—I found the shop in great confusion, and missed a Dutch cheese, one pound of coffee, a bottle of sweetmeats, eight bottles of ginger beer, and other articles, valued 1l. 11s.—I know all the prisoners, but
have not seen much of Leary—Daniels tried to break into our shop once before, but I let him see me—Daniels and Turner had been there overnight—Daniels asked for one pennyworth of bread, and a half-pennyworth of Dutch cheese—about eleven o'clock next day Turner came in and I said "You are just the boy I want"—he said "Why do you want me, I did not break into your shop, and I told them they ought to be ashamed of themselves for doing so"—he did not say who "them" meant—I said "If you did not do it, you know who did, and you are as bad, very likely, as them," and gave him in custody—the constable showed me the label of a sweetmeat bottle, but I could not swear to it.
JAMES HOWLET . (Policeman K 461). I examined the prosecutor's house, and found that the back parlour window catch had been forced back—there was the mark of a knife on the window pane—I know Daniels and Turner—I saw them together the night previous at 8.30 or 8.45—I found Turner in the shop, detained by Mrs. Bradshaw—after he had been at the station a short time, he said, "I will tell you the truth—all about it; after I saw you, I went home and did not see anything of them till next morning, it was Leary and Thoroughgood who broke into the shop"—I went to a dust yard frequented by these boys—and found several pieces of cheese and part of a quartern loaf.
WILLIAM DAVEY . (Policeman K 366). From information I received, I went to the dust yard about noon, and saw Daniels about thirty yards from the yard—I told him I wanted him far being concerned with other boys in breaking into Mr. Bradshaw's shop—he said that he did not break in, but he went down to the dust yard about half-past five and helped to eat the things that the other boys had stolen from Mrs. Bradshaw's.
The Prisoners' statements before the Magistrate:—Daniels says, "I had nothing at all to do with it, they gave me some bread and cheese, and I had it." Turner says, "I had nothing at all to do with it, I never knew they had broken into the shop."
DANIELS and TURNER NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOIR conducted the Prosecution; and MR. FLOOD the Defence.
ENOCH EMERY . (City Policeman 653). On 10th February about 5.30, I was near Peel's Statue, Cheapside, and saw the prisoner and a man not in custody—I followed them down Aldersgate Street to Long Lane, and back to 85, Newgate Street, Mr. Grossmith's, where the prisoner went in, leaving his companion at the door—he came out with this packing case on his shoulder, and I followed them to Bull and Mouth Street—they walked quick, and the one not in custody said "There is some one on to us," and ran away—the prisoner pitched the packing case at me off his shoulder and ran away, I followed him, calling "Stop thief," a gentleman in Little Britain, knocked him down and I assisted him up—I had not lost sight of him—he said "What do you want with me, I am porter to the gentleman I was with"—I took him in charge, searched him, but found nothing.
Cross-examined:—Q. Was the other man looking back? A. Constantly—I have no doubt that he knew me—he was quite a boy to look at, almost a head shorter than the prisoner—he wore a dark coat and a
skull cap, like a shoemaker or tailor—he did not look like a person who would employ another to carry a package.
JOSEPH VAIL . I am assistant to Mr. Talfourd, a trimming seller, 83, Newgate Street—on 10th February I met the prisoner coming out of the passage leading to the prosecutor's warehouse, with this case on his shoulder—another shorter man was with him.
JOHN LIPSCOMBE GROSSMITH . I am a partner in the firm of Grossmith & Sons, of 85, Newgate Street—this packing case is ours—we missed it on the evening of 10th February, between five and six o'clock—it contains two gallons of perfumed water, a box of broken glass, and some pieces of wood—it is a dummy which we put there in consequence of having lost another case, for which a prisoner (James Anderson) has been sentenced this morning—it is worth about 7s.
GUILTY .— Nine Month's Imprisonment .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, February 26th, 1868.
Before Mr. Justice Willes.
MR. GIFFARD, Q.C., with MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY, conducted the
Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
JOHN CHOWN (Police Sergeant E 5). On Saturday, 18th January, I went with a brother constable, named Chamberlain, to 26, Sidmouth Street, Gray's Inn Road—I had received information from my superintendent to apprehend Clancy as a deserter, but not to be charged until further directions—I watched outside 26, Sidmouth Street—about five minutes past seven in the evening, the prisoner came out of the house, and we followed him to Tottenham Court Road, then to the corner of Bedford Street, where he crossed the road and went and looked in a brush shop immediately opposite Bedford Street—I was on his left side, and Chamberlain on his right—I asked him if his name was Clancy—he said, "I don't know you"—I then asked him again if his name was Clancy—he said, "No, my name is Reed"—I asked him where he lived—he said, "In Great College Street, Camden Town"—I asked him if he had just left there—he said, "Yes, and I have come by the way of the Gray's Inn Road"—I said, "I shall take you into custody for being a deserter from the Royal Engineers"—we were both in plain clothes—he immediately tripped up my heels with a stick or umbrella between my legs, and threw me down on the kerb—when I got up, I saw him running along Bedford Street as fast as he could, and Chamberlain following him towards Bedford Square—I cried, "Stop thief," and at the end of Bedford Street, turning round the south side of the square, I cried "Stop thief"—he deliberately turned round; I saw his face plainly, and I heard something whizz by like a bullet close by my hair—I then saw a flash and heard a loud report—I was about fifteen or twenty yards from him—Chamberlain was nearer to the prisoner than me, but more to the left, running across—the prisoner turned to the right, and ran round the railings of the square towards the left—after running a short distance further, he turned to the left—I had gained ground on him by that time,
when he discharged another barrel at Chamberlain—at that time Chamberlain fell; he was about twelve yards from him when he fired the shot—when he fired the second shot I saw something shining in his hand like a revolver—I saw his face blaze from the flash of the revolver at that time—I still ran after the prisoner, crying, "Stop thief"—Chamberlain got up again and also ran after him—we pursued him some distance further, and Chamberlain got within five or six yards of him—he was stopped by a coachman, named John Hurst—just at that time Chamberlain caught him up, and while doing so, I heard another report of the revolver and saw a flash—when I got up, the prisoner was on the ground—I saw Chamberlain strike him on the head with the butt end of the revolver—Chamberlain's face was blackened from the powder; his whiskers and hair were singed from the flash of the powder—one of the bystanders said to the prisoner, "You rascal, did you intend to shoot me? what did you want to shoot me for?"—he said, "I did not intend to shoot you"—he was asked who he intended to shoot, and he nodded to Chamberlain—he was taken in custody—I kept him on the ground until we got sufficient strength to take him to the station—I was much exhausted—I walked on one side of him to the station, and somebody else on the other, and Chamberlain behind—on the way to the station the prisoner said, "Are you two police officers?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "Well, I think I fought a very good battle in a very fair duel; I am only sorry I have not got payment for it"—I saw the pistol produced by Chamberlain at the station; it was a revolver with six chambers, three of them were loaded and three had been discharged—it appears that the revolver did not revolve properly at the time, it passed out here—this pin projected and caught the last bullet—I know that it is one of the bullets he is supposed to have fired on this occasion, because if the bullet had been there before, the barrel could not have revolved at the two first fires—I searched the prisoner at the station, and took from him three keys—I accompanied my superintendent and inspector with them to the address in Sidmouth Street and made a search—they opened one drawer of a chest of drawers in the room—the inspector found some things; I did not see them all—I found some powder and other things.
Cross-examined. Q. I understand that you and the other officer were watching in front of his house the whole day. A. Yes; I did not follow him immediately he came out—I had gone perhaps fifty yards before we commenced to follow him—we followed him about a mile—I think he turned round once when he got into Regent Square—I will not say that he saw us following—he turned round once when he first came out of the house—I do not think he turned round while we were following—I first spoke to him about a mile from the house—I did not tell him I was an officer at first—I told him that when I said I should take him in custody for being a deserter—that was before any shot was fired at all—the shot was not fired until he had ran about 200 yards—he was about fifteen or twenty yards from me when he fired—it was about eight o'clock in the evening, it was dark—he turned deliberately round and fired at me—he fired immediately he turned.
WILLIAM CHAMBERLAIN (Policeman E 163). I was with Chown, watching the house in Sidmouth Street, and saw the prisoner come out—we followed him through Regent Square to Tottenham Court Road—he had got about fifty or sixty yards before we began to follow him—he looked round when he came out at the door, then he went in the direction of Tottenham Court
Road, and we followed him—we came up to him at the end of Bedford Street, Tottenham Court Road—Chown asked him if his name was Clancy—he said, "I don't know you"—he asked him again, and he said, "No, my name is Reed, and I live at Great College Street, Camden Town—Chown then said, "We are two officers, and shall take you into custody for being a deserter from the sappers," or "engineers," I do not know which—almost before he said the words, the prisoner put his umbrella between his legs and tripped him up, and ran away—I followed him; but just as I started, two gentlemen came in front of me, just between us two—the gentlemen stopped me a minute or two from running after him, and then I pursued him—he ran into Bedford Square and turned to the right—I saw Chown follow him—he was just behind me, at my right, rather nearer to him than Chown—I was on his left—after he had run about fifteen yards past the corner of the square, he turned to the right and fired at Sergeant Chown, who was about fifteen or twenty yards from him—I heard the report, and saw the flash as well—I was within four or five yards of him when he started—he then turned back and started off again, and gained ground of me—he ran about forty or fifty yards, then turned round to the left and fired at me—just at that time I stepped in a gully-hole and almost fell down, near a railing—I was ten or twelve yards from him—he was in the road, a little in advance of me—I think my falling in the gully-hole was the only thing that saved me—I saw the flash—Chown was following—I got up, and he gained ground of me again for a short distance; then I gained ground on him very fast—it appeared that he could not run very much after that—he was turning round to the left—I was within five or seven yards—he was just in the act of turning again, and I saw Hurst coming up—I called to him, and he caught hold of him and twisted him round to the road, and by that time I bad got hold of him—I tripped him, and just as he was in the act of falling, I saw a revolver in his right hand—I had got hold of him by the right shoulder with my left hand, and saw the revolver straight up, close by my ear—I caught hold of it with my right hand and pressed it, so, and just at that moment, I was slipping at the time, it went off, exploded—seven, eight, or ten persons were present at the time it went off—he had then hold of the handle of it, though I had hold of the barrel, and the coachman was going to take hold of it at the time—I did not feel the shot, but it blackened my face and whiskers, and my coat was scorched by the powder—it looked blue—I took the revolver out of his hand, and struck him on the head with it twice—a gentleman who has a shop in Endell Street came up while he was still on the ground, who said, "You rascal, did you intend to shoot me?"—he said, "No"—just as he was getting up, he said, "I did not intend to shoot you; it was him, calling to me"—he said, "No harm," nodding towards me; I could not exactly catch the words—I went with him to the station, and had hold of him a short distance—some gentlemen came up and assisted—on the way to the station, I heard him say something about having fought a good battle—this (produced) is the revolver I took from the prisoner.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you in Court when Chown was examined? A. Part of the time—we followed the prisoner nearly a mile—he turned round when he came out of the house; he may have seen me then—he might have turned round while we were following him—I did not see him, and cannot say whether he did or not—when he fired at Chown I was about fourteen or fifteen yards from the prisoner, to the left—I was nearer
than Chown, but not above a yard or so—when he fired at me I was ten or fourteen yards from him; I should not think it was more.
JOHN HURST . On 18th January, about eight in the evening, I was passing through Bedford Square—I heard the report of a pistol, and I believe I heard a cry of "Stop thief," or "Stop murderer," or something of that sort—I turned round, and the prisoner ran up to me—I caught hold of his collar, but he swung himself from me—I seized him again a second time, in the road, and at that instant he fired—Chamberlain came up, and we took him between us—he was thrown into the road.
Cross-examined. Q. You say that just as you seized him the second time he fired? A. Yes—when I caught hold of the revolver and it went off that was the third occasion, the shot that was fired at Chamberlain.
COURT. Q. How many shots did you hear altogether? A. Two shots fired—the pistol only went off twice to my knowledge—I never saw Chamberlain at the moment the second shot was fired; he came up directly afterwards—I heard two shots only, I cannot answer for another—I did not take hold of the revolver—I was standing at his left side—I had hold of his left collar, and the revolver was in his right hand.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know anything of him in the service? A. No; after he was finally approved of in London he was sent to headquarters in Chatham—I saw him once or twice during the time he used to come up on leave, but nothing further.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know him for any length of time? A. Yes; for a twelvemonth: he was a good soldier—I was drill instructor at the time he passed—he was very clean, and behaved himself in the most respectable manner.
Cross-examined. Q. Can you tell me what his age was at the time he enlisted? A. About nineteen, twenty, or twenty-one—I am not certain—I should think he was twenty when he deserted—he was in the service above two years, I think.
WILLIAM DAVIS (Cross-examined). I came up when Hurst seized the prisoner—I did not see him seize him, as there were three of them round him—I was a few yards from him when the pistol went off—it was point uppermost, I think—I think I said before the Magistrate that it was pointed up in the air.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. In what position was Chambers with reference to him at the time you say the pistol was pointed up in the sir? A. They were all round him when I came up—neither of them was on the ground when I got up—the prisoner was on his feet when the shot was fired.
COURT. Q. Is this a correct account of it, "He was standing up at the time: the pistol was pointed up in the air: it was not pointed at any one from what I could see in the distance."—A. Yes.
Thomas Bird, manager of the Clerkenwell News, Mr. Turnstall, a news manager,.
and John Kew Cross, printer of the Morning Star, gave the prisoner a good character.
GUILTY, on the second and third counts. — Penal Servitude for Life.
THE COURT awarded 10l. each to Chown, Chamberlain, and Hurst.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, February 26th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
255. GEORGE SMART (39), and JOHN TURPIN (44), Feloniously forging and uttering a Bill of Exchange for 58l. 14s. 9d., with intent to defraud, Smart having been before convicted, to whichSMART PLEADED GUILTY (see next case).
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution.
MOSES JACOBS . I am a cane and fibre merchant, in partnership with Mr. Solomons, at 61, Sun Street, Bishopsgate Street—In October, 1865, I met Smart, and after some conversation he came to my place of business, and I ultimately supplied him with some goods—he gave me a bill for 22l. 9s. 6d., there was about 11l. due from him for the goods, and I gave him the rest of the bill in cash—he afterwards bought more goods and paid in cash—some little time afterwardshe bought more goods, and showed me a bill for 58l. 14s. 9d. which I thought was too large, but after some conversation I was induced to take it—I gave him some cash, I forget how much, and the rest in goods—the bills were afterwards presented and returned to me without my getting any cash—I then went in search of Smart's establishment, in Hoxton, and found it shut up—Turpin has dealt at our place, but I did not see him in this transaction.
Turpin. Q. Did not I always pay for what I had? A. Yes; you came to me and told me you knew where Smart was, and would find him out, but you did not.
MR. METCALFE. Q. What did Turpin say? A. "Do you want to find Smart; I can find him for you if you will pay me for it"—I did not say that I was willing to pay him, and he did not find him.
WILLIAM MANSON . I am a brush manufacturer, of 28, South Street, Manchester Square—Smart has dealt with me—these two bills, accepted by John Parson & Son, are not my writing, or my partner's—we never gave a bill in our lives, we pay cash for everything.
ESTHER MARIA GILES . I am Smart's daughter—his real name is Sidney Giles—I remember his having a shop at 101, High Street, Hoxton, a brush, manufactory—Turpin came there occasionally—my mother married his brother before she married Giles—I have seen Turpin with these bills—I think the whole of these two is in his writing—he very frequently did writing for my father—my father sometimes went by the name of Stevens—Turpin knew him as Smart as well—I believe Turpin sold some of the fibre that came in from Jacobs and Solomons', to Mr. Griffin—he told my father so—the endorsement, "George Stevens" on the 22l. 9s. 6d. bill, is my father's writing, and the body of the bill is Turpin's writing, and the same on the other bill.
Turpin. Q. Whose writing do you believe the acceptance to be? A. I do not know—I swear that the body of the bill resembles your writing—we lived at Hoxton at Christmas 1867—I believe I went to the shop there, and
lived there two or three weeks—I did not see you there—we next went to Homorton, and lived there two or three weeks—I did not see you there, but you used to go out with my father—you came to see us at Notting Hill last June.
COURT. Q. Where did you see him next after leaving Hoxton? A. I went out with my father and met him—that was two or three weeks after we left Hoxton.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Before you went to Hoxton, had Turpin known your father? A. Yes, I had seen him—Bromley was one place we lived at before we went to Hoxton—my father went by the name of Keeles there—we also lived at Wapping Wall, where he went by the name of Talfrey—Turpin did writing for my father there, in June and July last year—this (produced) is Turpin's writing; I will not be sure who wrote the name of Talfrey—I was present when Turpin wrote this, but did not see my father sign it.
HENRY FULLER . I keep the Admiral Keppel, High Street, Hoxton—the shop next door was kept by Smart in 1864—I had been in the habit of lending him various sums of money, and he gave me this bill (produced)—he had given me a bill previously for 17l., which he took up before it became due—he ultimately gave me this bill, and I gave him the money on it—Turpin was in almost daily communication with him—Smart introduced him to me as his clerk, who did his writing—Smart went by the name of George Stephens—they seemed intimate, and were very friendly—when I went to realize the bill it was returned to me, and I got no money on it—Turpin did not leave the neighbourhood, but he was in constant communication with Stephens, and I never saw them again till they were in custody.
Turpin. Q. Did you have any trouble to find me? A. Yes, a great deal; I was three weeks with two detectives and could not find you.
Turpin. Q. How many times have you seen me write? A. Once—I swear to the body, and the signature "John Stephenson," and the acceptance—I saw you write this (produced), and from that I am able to swear to this acceptance—the "Robert Talfrey" on the cheque is your writing—I took a cheque, in the name of Talfrey, for the amount of my debt—the writing is your's.
MR. METCALFE. Q. After the cheque was given, did he write the order for a gold watch in your presence? A. Yes; I was acting as agent to Jules & Co. at that time.
Turpin. Q. Did you receive it from Talfrey? A. Yes; he went out of the apartment with me, and came back with the bill in his hand and presented it to me.
COURT. Q. You did not know that it was Turpin's writing? A. No; but I compared them together.
GEORGE SMART (The Prisoner). My proper name is Sidney Giles—I took a shop in Hoxton—I have known Turpin four years, or better—I have lived in the names of Gibbs, Wilmot, Talfrey, Gough, and Stephens—Turpin knew me in those names—he was in the habit of coming to Hoxton with a cart, selling goods—I took a cheque from Mr. Mason—Turpin was there, and saw Mr. Mason's signature—about a week afterwards, he said to me, "I will tell you how you can get some money"—he went and bought
a bill, and filled it up, and wrote across it, "Accepted, John Mason & Sons, payable at the London and Westminster Bank, Marylebone branch, for 28l."—that is the one given to Mr. Fuller—he said, "You seem very thick with Mr. Fuller; go next door and try and borrow some money"—he tore up the first one he wrote—I got 5l. upon the first bill he wrote—I paid that in a week, and tore it up—Turpin wrote a second bill—I got 10l. on the first, and 3l. afterwards—Turpin had some of the money, and bass to make brooms with—there are other bills given to Jacobs and Solomons—Turpin wrote them—before the bills became due I shut up the shop—he said that there were three days' grace, but that they were due on the 25th—I saw Turpin after that—he lived at a beer-shop at Barnes.
Turpin's Defence. There is nothing proved against me, except by a man who owns himself an utterer of forged bills. I did the best I could to sell his brooms, out of which I got a trifle for myself. He absconded, but I did not. I remained there for two years. I saw him sometimes, and he always knew where to find me. I wish the jury to compare the signatures, and if they find that they are in my writing they may find me guilty; but I can see no resemblance. I never forged a name across a bill in my life. The body of a bill is an unfinished document, of no use till the signature is put to it; and it is yet to be proved that I know anything of these bills at all.
TURPIN— GUILTY .
256. GEORGE SMART and JOHN TURPIN were again indicted, with SAMUEL KEEVES (31), and ROBERT BARNES (30) , for unlawfully obtaining by false pretences 68 bedsteads and 1 cwt. of glue, the property of Robert Kitson , to which SMART PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution, MR. SERJEANT PARRY with MR. M. WILLIAMS appeared for Barnes, and MESSRS. RIBTON & STRAIGHT for Keeves.
WILLIAM WIGGINS . I live at 21, James' Grove, Commercial Road, Peckham, and am clerk to Mr. Simm—shortly before 2nd June, Smart, in the name of Robert Talfrey, applied to me to let a house at St. Ann's Road, Notting Hill—He gave me as a reference Mr. Keeves, Church Street, Shoreditch—I went there, and saw then prisoner Keeves—I told him that Robert Talfrey had applied for a house—he said that he had known Mr. Talfrey some time; he did not know a great deal about him, but he had done a good deal of business with him, and would not mind trusting him with goods in the way of business to the amount of 100l., and had introduced him to a number of shipping agents—Talfrey said that he wanted the house for a private residence—this paper (produced) came, I believe, by post; it is on one of Keeves's bill headings—after I had received it, I let Talfrey the house, and he signed this agreement, on 22nd June, for a year's tenancy at 35l.—I found the house shut up a month afterwards, and nothing left in it—I had received no value or rent.
ROBERT KITSON . I live at 203, Waterloo Road, and am traveller to Yates & Co., of Birmingham, iron merchants and jewellers—on 11th July I went to Cox's shop, in Cambridge Heath Road, and enquired if he could do anything in my line—Smart, who was there, called me back, and said "I can do something in your way if you can sell reasonably; I am a builder and shipping agent, living at Notting Hill, and I require a lot of iron bedsteads to send out to New Zealand; if you will call on me at Notting Hill I will let you know what I require"—I said, "If we do business it must be for cash"—he said, "I do nothing hut cash transactions;
no one calls on me twice for their money"—I then gave him patterns, and he wrote an order on the samples—Smart returned the samples directly from Birmingham, marked—I sent the order to Birmingham, and they sent the forty-eight bedsteads from Birmingham, amounting to 45l. 8l., less discount, leaving balance 42l. 12s. on that account—on 18th July he came to me and said, "I cannot understand this," and produced a note from the railway company at Camden—I said, "If you are a business man, that is easily understood; the goods have been delivered at your address at Notting Hill, and no one has been there to take them in; if you will write to the railway company they will re-deliver the goods, charging a small amount, which we will arrange and settle"—on showing him out, his attention was drawn to some samples belonging to Thomas Yates & Co., which I had in stock, iron bedsteads, and he wished to become a purchaser of those—I said, "We will settle one transaction first, for, to tell you the truth, I have no faith in you; I seem to be crediting you against my own conscience, and we made an arrangement—he then agreed to a price for these goods and 1 cwt of glue, all to be paid for on 22nd July, 22l. 13s., making 66l. 5s. altogether—he bought the goods, and sent a man for them on 22nd July; they were consigned from Birmingham on 11th July; I do not know what day they were delivered—I went there afterwards on 19th July, and received this cheque on 20th July from the hands of Smart—I saw Turpin give it him; he called him out at the door—it is on the London and County Bank, and is signed "Robert Talfrey;" it was afterwards returned; I got no money on it—on the Thursday following, 20th July, I went to the house and found it closed, and no one there—there were no symptoms of bedsteads or furniture—I put myself in communication with the police, and in consequence of something I heard went to Barnes's oil and colour shop, 156, Brick Lane, on the 29th—I saw him in the presence of two persons, and asked him if he was Mr. Barnes—he said, "Yes"—I said, "I see you are engaged, I will call again"—he said, "There is no necessity; you can speak your business here"—I said, "In the presence of these men?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Do you know Robert Talfrey?"—he said, "No"—I said, "Do you know who Thomas Yates & Co., merchants, of Birmingham, are?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "Do you know you have got some goods in your possession belonging to Thomas Yates & Co.; iron bedsteads?"—he said, "I purchased them from Talfrey"—he afterwards said, "I have lent 33l. on them"—I said, "You have just said you do not know Talfrey"—he said, "Who are you to cross-question me like this?"—I told him who I was—he said, "What are those men outside my shop?"—I said, "They are police officers"—he said, "Do you expect any violence?"—I said, "No"—he said, "I am an honest tradesman"—I said, "Well, you look like one, and if you are, you will assist in capturing the swindler Talfrey"—he said, "I am willing to give up these goods if you will give me the money I have advanced on them"—I said, "If it is an honest transaction, will you show me your purchases?"—he first objected, and then he said that he would, and produced the original invoice which was first consigned to Talfrey from Birmingham for twenty-four bedsteads—he held it like this, and did not let me see it—this invoice (produced) from Talfrey to Barnes was not shown to me at all; I never saw it till to-day—(This was an invoice of twenty iron bedsteads, at 20s., bought by Barnes of Robert Kitson, July 17, 1867, discount 1l., 19l. signed,
Robert Talfrey.)—the goods were consigned on 17th July, but I cannot say about the delivery—the invoice shown to me was the original one which came from Birmingham, whichhe had lent money on, for twenty-four iron bedsteads; the amount was specified 25l. 16s.—I said, "How came you in possession of this invoice?"—he said, "That is my business; if you wish to know, I refer you to Mr. Dillon Webb, that is the solicitor"—Barnes said, "Will you meet me to-morrow at my solicitor's, who has all my receipts and papers?"—I said, "Do you trust your receipts to your solicitor?"—he said, "Yes; never mind, you meet me there to-morrow morning—I asked to see the bedsteads, but he would not allow me—he said, "No one passes beyond that cask"—in consequence of advice given to me, I did not go to Mr. Webb—I was several weeks afterwards at the shop of a man named Bowles, at Cambridge Heath; I do business with him; and while I was there, thirty-seven iron bedsteads were brought in by the prisoner Barnes—I saw him deliver them—this (produced) is a copy of the invoice—they were some of the bedsteads in question—all I heard Barnes say was asking for payment for the goods, which he had sold for 24l.—he showed me the receipt of the carman, ready signed, for 24l. for the bedsteads, to give to Bowles—they did not get payment, because I stopped the cheque, and Barnes said to me, "It seems to me that you are conspiring with these people"—I said, "They purchased those goods at my request from you"—he said, "You are not so clever, Mr. Kitson, as you think you are; you might have had more"—I said, "I do not think you are the man to deliver a second lot unless you are paid for the first; if you will produce the swindler Talfrey, Thomas Yates & Co. will give you every satisfaction"—he said, "I have nothing to do with Thomas Yates & Co., all my business was with Bowles"—the bedsteads went to Keeves before going to Barnes; they are now in Bowies" possession—after the cheque was returned, I went to Cox, who drove me in his trap to Keeves', who is a scavengers' broom manufacturer in Church Street, Shoreditch—I only saw his apprentice, and went again next morning, and asked him if he recollected a person named Cox—he said, "No, I do not know Cox; you are the bedstead bloke"—I said, "If I had time I could toll you the last words you had with Talfrey, and I wish I had seen you before, as I locked him up at Albany Street myself and no one came forward to detain him except a tailor, whom he gave his gold watch and chain to, remarking, 'But it is only Brummagem'"—he said, "You are a proper bloke, and I will do you some good; get me my coat"—he then took me to Kingsland Police Station, and enquired for Police-constable Parker, who held a warrant against the prisoner Smart—the inspector said, "Now we have Talfrey we shall have Keeves"—Keeves was present, buthe beckoned me to the window and said that aside—after the prisoners were all in custody, I went from the 19th to the 20th to Barnes' premises, and found some of the bedsteads, which, with the exception of one or two which he had sold, completes the number.
Turpin. Q. Do you believe the cheque to be my writing? A. Yes—I did not deliver the bedsteads, you sent the carman for them.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Had you seen the apprentice? A. Yes—I had not talked it over with him, or told him who I was, but I told him I had come about this affair.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Were the first lot of bedsteads actually delivered on 17th July? A. Yes, that is the impression on my mind; I can easily get the carman to prove whether it was so or not—the
second lot was delivered on 20th July, including 1 cwt. of glue—I saw Barnes for the first time on the 29th, at 136, Spitalfields—I went with two policeman, one of whom was in uniform—they stood at the door while I went in—I said, "I want to speak to you about rather a delicate matter"—I did not wish to expose the matter, I looked on him then as a respectable man—I did not wish to speak before the two men and a boy, who were in the shop, but he said, "You may speak out what you like before these parties—he said, at first, that he had bought the bedsteads from Talfrey, and afterwards, that he bad lent 33l. on them and a pianoforte—he at that time showed me a piece of paper at arm's length, so that I could not see what it purported to be, but I can swear to the invoice, because it is a copy—he appeared more frightened than annoyed—when he asked me about the policemen, he said, in a state of some excitement, "I am a respectable tradesman"—I have not been informed by my employers that he or his attorney offered to give up the bedsteads to them if I paid the money he had advanced—the attorney wrote something to that effect, I believe, in a letter to me, which I put into the fire—he said that he was in the habit of buying goods at sales, and advancing money on goods—Talfrey was taken about January, this year—Barnes was not subpoenaed by me, and brought to the police court—I do not know that my attorney brought him there—I saw him there, and was told that he was summoned as a witness—it was after the evidence was given by Smart's daughter that Barnes was ordered into custody—he was there as a witness, but had not been called—he was committed for trial on the spot—I heard him ask for a remand, that he might appear by Counsel, but the Magistrates did not think it right, and he was committed with the other prisoners—I knew that Barnes had sold bedsteads to other people besides Boules—it was several weeks after 29th July that I saw Barnes at Boules' shop—I believe Boules is a respectable man, and have done business with him, and have treated him always as a respectable tradesman—Barnes sold the bedsteads to Boules, and I advised him on the spot not to pay for them—I did not advise him to bring an action against him—I have not promised Boules a sum of money on account of his defending that action, he made a promise to me—I do not know that Boules paid for them—he said that Boules' solicitor had issued a writ against him for the amount—I did not ask Boules to defend the action—I have supplied Boules with things—the last transaction was 50l., which was about three months since—I have had no dealings since the transaction between Barnes and Boules—he has not paid me money since, but he has to my employer—he said, "Mr. Kitson, I have been solicited to purchase those bedsteads belonging to you in the possession of Barnes, the firm would no doubt like to receive them"—I said, "Yes, but we do not wish to go to further cost"—he said, "I can get them; I have told Barnes we deal in everything which is cheap, and if you like I will get them, out of pure good will to you, not charging you anything"—I said "Well if you can get them, get them"—I have never got them from Boules, they are there now, awaiting the issue of this trial—I introduced Smart to Mr. Seger about 16th July, I could not say positively; as a person who I believed worthy of trust.
MR. METCALFE. Q. In what name did you know Turpin? A. Simms or Gibbs, I would not say which, I believe it was Simms—it is our principle to pay cash—I met Smart in the Blackfriars Road in a cab—he asked me to
jump in, I said, "No;" he said, "Will you go with me to Mr. Seger to see the instrument, or pianoforte"—we went there.
ELIZA COX . I am the wife of Robert Cox, a plasterer, of Cambridge Heath—in July last I met Kean—he asked me how business was going on—I said "Very bad"—he said that he was going to the bank and would take me to a gentleman and give me orders—that he had just gone in for a cheque for 50l., which I saw—he also said he would introduce me to Sir Robert Talfrey, a large shipping agent, and we should do a great deal of business with him—he took me to a public house in Slater Street, I do not know the name of it, and introduced me to Mr. Talfrey, that was the prisoner Smart, who asked my direction—I gave it to him, and he said that he would call on me in a day or two—when the cheque was produced Keeves said, "That is the way he pays me, I have no trouble in getting the money," meaning the way Talfrey pays—he came out with the money, but I did not see the cheque.
COURT. Q. Did you see a bit of paper? A. No, his apprentice had gone into the bank and came out and gave him the money; he said "This is the way Talfrey pays me"—Talfrey afterwards came and gave me an order, when it was complete I went and the house was shut up.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. No—I have known Keeves six years, and as a neighbour for five years, in the brush business—I have been on intimate terms with him, and always considered him to be a respectable man—I met him by accident on this day.
SIDNEY GILES (The prisoner Smart). I took a place at St. Ann's Road, Notting Hill, in the name of Robert Talfrey, on 22nd June, and shut it up about 25th July—Before that I had lived at Bromley in the name of Gibbs, and at 12, Wapping Wall, and from there I went to St. James's Gardens, Notting Hill; to Camberwell in the name of Wilmot, and to Grove Place, Battersea, in the name of Wilmot—I have known Barnes three or four years—he did not know me at Grove Place—I had not been at home much while I lived there—he knew me at all the other places, and at Hoxton as well, in the name of Stephens—I also went by the name of Smart—he knew me in all the names I have mentioned—I knew keeves when I lived at Hoxton, in 1865, and from then until he was taken in custody—he knew me by those different names, and also as Turpin—I have known him six years—my proper name is Sidney Giles, I am usually called Sid.—In taking the place at St John's Wood I saw the traveller to Yates & Co.—I was with Keeves and met Mrs. Cox—Keeves said "Here is a gentleman with whom I do a deal of business, he has just paid me 40l.," showing her the money in a bag which he opened—he asked if she had a card in her pocket—she said, "No, you know my address"—she wrote it down and gave it to me, 20, Cambridge Heath Road, five doors from the arch; and I went there and gave an order—while I was there I saw Mr. Kitson, and ultimately gave him an order for patterns of bedsteads, and afterwards for the bedsteads, which were delivered in two lots, forty-eight from Birmingham, and fifteen or sixteen from his house, also one hundred weight of glue in a bag—the first twenty-four came in about the 14th or 15th—I went to Kitson's to say that they had not been delivered, and then they delivered the twenty-four, charging me 2s. extra—I gave Mr. Kitson this cheque (produced) which Turpin wrote in the presence of all four of us, including Barnes, in the kitchen, on the Saturday morning as the things came in on Saturday
afternoon—the blank form of cheque was obtained from a book which Keeves had until all the money was drawn out—he drew 40l. out of the East London Bank, and Turpin put Keeves' overcoat on and went to the London and County, and opened an account in the name of Anderson, and from that book this cheque was taken—I knew that there was no money there then—I had told the other prisoners that I had ordered the goods—I went and told Barnes all about it a few days before the first lot of goods came there—he said that when they came up I was to let him know—I told him that Keeves had opened two banking accounts, and they were going to work the two banks, and the trades people afterwards—I had ordered the goods, for which a false cheque was going to be given; and when I knew they were coming up I let Barnes know, and he came to Notting Hill—that was not the day the cheque was written—it was not written till we paid for the last lot—he came in the morning, Keeves was not there—Barnes stopped some time—the bedsteads did not come, and he came about two o'clock next day; he had dinner, and then the bedsteads came—he went up and looked at them, and I said "What are they worth?" he said, "About 8l."—I would not take it, and afterwards he said, "I will give 9l. 10s. for the first twenty-four"—the invoice price was 20l. odd—I agreed to sell them for 9l. 10s., and he was to take them away himself—Turpin made him write out a bill for 9l. 10s., and he took the twenty-four bedsteads, invoice and all—when the second lot came I went and told him I had got a letter about the bedsteads—he said, "Where are they?"—I said, "At the Railway Station"—he said, "I will be at your place to-morrow," and he and Keeves came, but they did not come in till the after part of the day—that was Saturday, the day the cheque was given—that was four or five days after the first lot—the goods were not delivered till afterwards—he could not wait, and went away—he came again on Sunday to dinner—Keeves was present, and Turpin who lived with us—after dinner he looked at the piano, the bedsteads, and a globe—he said that they were not of much account, they were chipped—he offered me 27l. for them, and took them away on the Monday—the piano came to 27l.—it came from Mr. Seager's, to whom a cheque was given, which was torn out of the same book—Mr. Kitson was present—as soon as these things had been taken away, Keeves took up his carpets, put them in a cask, and away he went, and I went to Camden Town—Keeves took away one bedstead separately, an Arabian one—the other men knew I was not going to pay for the goods when they opened the account with me.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Whose writing is this bill, simply look at the heading of it, not at any other part, the words are "July 17, Mr. Barnes'"? A. Turpin's writing—I have not told anybody what I was going to say, because I have been in prison, but I told Serjeant Dunnaway when I was taken that I was going to plead guilty—all these particulars were perfectly unknown to the prosecution—my daughter only visited me once in prison—she was living with me at all these placed—she used to go to school in whatever name I went by—she was employed to fetch cheques for Keeves and to fetch parcels of goods from tradesmen, several times—we had credit with the different tradesmen, at first with a good cheque and afterwards they were paid with a wrong one—my daughter did not take the cheques—she used to fetch butcher's meat for me, she also fetched grocery once or twice, not more, and she has been once or twice to the baker's—she is fourteen years old, and can read and write a little, which Turpin has taught her—my wife passed in those various names—Turpin
acted as my clerk—the cheque was written in Hurries' presence, on Saturday morning, 20th July, between ten and eleven o'clock, find given to Kitson in the afternoon—Barnes did not come back till Sunday morning—he was there about an hour on Saturday, and did not come again that day—my wife and daughter were present—I have known Barnes three years, or three years and three months, as near as I can guess—my daughter has been living with me the whole of that time—I was living in a turning out of the Kingsland Road, in the name of Stephens, when Barnes first knew me; that is about three years ago—my daughter gave evidence at the Police Court—I do not know how that come about.
ESTHER MARIA GILES . I am the daughter of the last witness, and have lived with him at various place—I have known Keeves two or three years—he came to us at Hoxton and at Wapping Wall, and Notting Hill—I will not be sure about Bromley, or Camberwell, or George place, Battersea—he know my father by different names—we lived at Notting Hill in the name of Talfrey—Keeves came there sometimes twice a day—my father has known Barnes two or three yours, and I have known him twelve months—he came to Notting Hill, but to no other place—I do not thinkhe came to Wapping Wall—I have soon him before at his shop—I went there to buy some things—I went there sometimes every other day, and sometimes two or three times a week—I went there to buy some pitch—I remember the bedsteads coming to Notting Hill, in July—Turpin, Keeves and Barnes had been at our house that morning, to see whether the bedsteads had come—my father said that they had not been, he expected them soon—Turpin then went away, as he said he had only left his little boy in the shop—he came again on Sunday, to dinner, looked on the bedsteads, and said they were very common indeed—he gave 10l. for the piano, and 9l. 10s. for the twenty four bedsteads—there was also one hundred weight of glue for which he gave three-halfpence or two-pence a pound—I saw nothing written out by him when he bought them—Keeves and Turpin were there; Keeven dined there, Barnes promised to come to dinner, but he come when it was nearly done—Barnes came between ten and eleven on Monday morning, and took the bedsteads away—I think some had been taken away before that—Barnes had them all—he came backwards and forwards all the time we were at Notting Hill, which was about a month—Barnes kept asking my father before the Saturday whether the bedsteads wore coming—Mr. Kitson came there on the Saturday, and I Haw some cheques written in the kitchen—Turpin had spoiled two or three cheques, and burnt them—I do not know who kept the blank cheques, but I believe my father did—I have been to Keeves for blank cheques at the Three Compasses, at the back of his house, which he took out of a book and gave me; and I have taken some of the cheques—they wore cheques of this description, on thin coloured paper—I took thorn from Keeven and took them homo to my father—I sometimes went to the butcher and baker, but not very often—Turpin lived in the house while I was at Notting Hill—Barnes was frequently there, and Keeves came two or three times a day—he took away one bedstead, and he took something from the grocer, and a shoulder of mutton from the butcher.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Have you seen your father in prison? A. Only once; that was last Monday week, I think—the conversation lasted about twenty minutes—I did not give anybody an account of what I was going to state I and another little girl have been charged with stealing a ring from a shop in Hoxton—I was not in prisoner for it; the Magistrate let
me off—I was locked up for an Hour, at Kingsland Road, and then taken before the Magistrate and discharged.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. You have been living with your father while he went in different names; used you to call yourself by each different name? A. Yes; if my father's name was so, I suppose mine was—I have not heard my father examined—I did not know that I was doing wrong in fetching goods from tradespeople on credit, I did at my father bade me—my mother went to see my father in prison every time it was proper for her to go—I gave my evidence to Sergeant Dunnaway—I saw my father in prison once—I believe it was a gold ring I was charged with stealing—I was twelve years old then—the other girl was Little Hayes—she was not taken.
Turpin. Q. How long did you live in Hoxton? A. A month—I will swear you wore there a week, and also ten days—you came on a Saturday; not the Saturday before the cheque was given, but, I believe, the Saturday before that—it was over a week, and I believe it was a fortnight before.
HENRY SHEARER . I am a clerk in the London and County Bank, Shoreditch branch—Robert Talfrey does not keep an acoount there—this cheque has been presented and dishonoured—it is drawn on one of our forms—there was an account in the name of Anderson, which has been drawn out seven or eight months—I fancy I have seen Keeves; but we have a good many customers—I know nothing about Turpin—this cheque was supplied to William Anderson, but I have not seen him.
PORTER WILLIAM DUNNAWAY (Police Sergeant H 11). I took Smart and Turpin—I got these two bank books and a pass book at Smart's place, one bank book is on the East London Bank, it Is a paying—in book for slips, and one in the name of William Anderson on the London and County—they were given to me by his wife—I took Turpin at Smart's house, and told him he would be charged with others with conspiring to cheat people out of their goods—he said "Oh"—I took him to Spitalflelds station—when at Worship Street Police Court he said that he opened the account at the London and County Bank, in the name of William Anderson, with 40l., which was given him by keeves, and it was drawn out of the East London Bank—I took charge of Barnes at Worship Street Police Court—I had summoned him to appear as a witness, and from what took place I was directed by the Magistrate to put him in the dock—before I took him in custody, and after the first hearing on the 17th, I went to him with Serjeant Kenwood, who was in plain clothes, and said, "Mr. Barnes, do you know me?"—he said, "Yes"—I said, "We both belong to the police. I have come to make enquiries respecting some bedsteads you have had belonging to Mr. Yates, and also a piano"—he said, "I do not know why you come to ask me such questions as that, I do not know what right you have"—I said, "I come from the Magistrate"—he said, "I do not ask you any question, you can go to my solicitor"—I said, "I cannot, I am directed by the Magistrate, and it is a duty, and I am not in the habit of making enquiries at solicitors', have you any of those bedsteads by you?"—I believe he said he had none—I said, "I am told you have some, and that you have a quantity of pitch in your cellar, which belongs to Smith & Sons, will you allow me to come in?"—he said, "Have you a search warrant?"—I said, "No"—he said that he would not allow me—after he was taken into custody, I went to his house and found nineteen bedsteads, which I took possession of.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Was it in consequence of information
Keeves gave you that you apprehended Smart? A. No; Smart was apprehended on another charge—Keeves did not give me great assistance, but he did to Serjeant Kenwood—I searched Keeves's house, but found nothing connected with this charge—I searched all his books and papers.
RICHARD KENWOOD (Police Sergeant H 16). On 16th January I went to Keeves's house, and said that I had a man in custody who I believed was the man who obtained the brushes and other things at various places—I asked him to come to the station with me, to see if it was the right man—he said that he would do so, provided he could see the man without being seen himself—I took him into a room where he could look from behind a window, and he looked and said that it was Smart—he took me to the prosecutor's house, and on the same evening, two hours and a half afterwards, I went and apprehended Keeves, and told him he would be charged with Smart—he said, "That you will have to prove."
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Did Keeves give you all the information about the brushes? A. He told me some time previously that he would put me on to these men—it was not through his information that I apprehended Smart—he gave me a description of him, and said that he would put me on to him—he told me that that was the man—I did not search his house—Dunnaway went there, and examined some papers, but made no search—I went with him when he went to look over the place—he did not search it minutely.
Turpin's Defense. The whole of the evidence against me is that of Giles and his daughter, and I have nothing more to say but to give an emphatic denial to all they say.
KEEVES and BARNES received good characters.
TURPIN, KEEVES, and BARNES†— GUILTY of receiving , and TURPIN and KEEVES also GUILTY of conspiracy. TURPIN.— Two Years' Imprisonment . KEEVES.— Twelve Month's Imprisonment . BARNES.— Five Years' Penal Servitude . SMART was recommended to mercy by the Prosecutors.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, February 26th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. MOIR conducted the Prosecution, and MR. W. SLEIGH the Defense.
ENOCH EMERY (City Policeman 653). On 20th February, from information I received, I went to Tyler's Market, at three o'clock in the afternoon, and into Mr. Andred's counting-house, which joins Messrs. Venables'—they are divided by a wooden partition—I made a hole in the partition, and waited there till ten o'clock at night—I then heard the gate at the entrance to the market unlocked, also the door of the counting-house—I saw, through the hole in the partition, the prisoner with a lighted match—I saw him light several other matches—I saw him open a drawer in the counting-house with a key, and take out some money—I then heard him lock the drawer and the counting-house door—I then passed out of the counting-house into the shop, and I heard the prisoner talking to someone,
but I did not know who—I had seen two men at the Warwick Lane entrance to the market—I allowed him to walk a short distance from the shop, and then I jumped over the gates—they were not firm, and shook about a good deal, and. the prisoner ran out of the market into Warwick Lane—I stopped him just outside the market—I told him I should take him into custody for entering and stealing money from Messrs. Venables' counting-house—he said, "Emery, you have made a mistake, I was in Sketchley's Place"—I took him to the station, and searched him, and found a pound of sausages, threepence in coppers, and three marked sixpences—I had known him as assistant watchman in the market for some time.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there a gaslight burning opposite Venables' counting-house? A. I did not notice any—there are a great many gas-lights in the market—I did not see him take any key from the ledge in the counting-house—the place was dark till he lighted the match—I saw him open the till and take money out—he had his hand closed over the money—he only had a light occasionally—he had a light when he opened the drawer—I had been in the place all the afternoon, and had not moved—I did not go round to him when he unlocked the drawer because I should have made a noise, and he would have made some excuse—I should have had to go about fifteen yards—I did not move till I heard the gate locked—I had to jump over a gate—I saw two men outside, and I asked the prisoner to assist me to stop one of them, as they seemed in a great hurry to get away—I did not see anybody but the prisoner in the counting-house—I kept hold of him and we ran a few yards—I believe one of the men was the prisoner's brother, and the other a man named Groves—I took no steps to take the other men—I did not search the place, it wan locked, and I could not get in—I did not go in the morning—I had never been on duty there before—I did not know that it was the watchmen's duty to watch the counting-house, and see if there was anybody about—I was instructed that he had no right in the counting-house—I did not cough when I was watching, I am sure of that; I was as quiet as I possibly could be—I did not hear them come up the market; there was sawdust on the floor, and you could not hear anybody walking.
WARD PEBERDY . I am a partner in the firm of Venables & Co., meat salesman, Tyler's Market—we have lost a great deal of money, in small amounts—on 20th February, I placed 13s. 3d. in silver in the drawer, and 1l. 5s. in copper—I marked eight sixpences, two shillings, and threepence, and some of the coppers, and placed them in bowls in the drawer, locked the drawer, and left about four o'clock, taking the key home with me—no one had a right to open the drawer without a key—the key of the counting-house was placed on a nail in the shop, for the man to turn on the gas in the morning—the counting-houses join one another—I locked the drawer and the counting-house door myself—I have seen the marked money—it was safe when I left—I missed three sixpences and five shillings'worth of coppers from the drawer.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known the prisoner? A. Four years—the watchmen have keys of the outer door of the market—I do not know that he is employed by his father as assistant watchman—he has assisted his father—I stated before the Magistrate that he assisted his father, but I did not say he was employed by him.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate was that he had been assisting his father about four years, and that complaints had been made about
money being lost, and his father had given him strict orders to look round the market to see that no one was concealed—that he fancied he heard a noise, and listened outside Messrs. Andrew's shop, and then went to Messrs. Venables, to see if there was anyone there—that there was a light showing through the window—that he knew where the key was, and opened the door, and saw three sixpences on a stool—that he took them up, and stayed outside till his brother and the constable came up, and said he wanted them both—that he was on the same duty as the constable, and never opened a drawer or desk, or took anything out.
Witnesses for the Defence.
FREDERICK LOCKYER . I am the prisoner's brother—he assists my father as watchman in New gate Market—I was talking to Groves in the market—my brother was coming up to us when the constable came up—I did not know anything of this matter before the constable came up.
FREDERICK GROVES . I was talking to Lockyer on the night in question—I saw the prisoner and the constable coming towards us—we had been talking there about a minute and a half—I did not know anything of this transaction before the constable came up.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not see the prisoner in the market at all? A. I was close to him—I was not in the market to see—I know nothing of what took place there—I happened to be passing, and saw the two brothers, and went up and spoke to them.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. COLLINS and STARLING conducted the Prosecution, and MR. CUNNINGHAM defended Rose.
CHRISTIANA HODSON . I live at Old Brentford, and am a hawker and umbrella maker—on 3rd February I was in the Cricketer's Arms, Eating, with two other women, about four o'clock—we had two pints of beer between three of us, and some bread and cheese—we went out about five o'clock; and I parted with the women—I went back to the Cricketer's Arms a little after five—I had two umbrellas with me—I put them on a table in the tap room—both the prisoners were there then—I missed the umbrellas directly—I kicked up a row about them—the master said they would be found in the morning, and I took his advice—shortly after I left to go home—the prisoners followed me out—after I had got a little way Ware came and walked by my side, and somebody put his hands across my mouth and eyes—someone cut my pocket out, but who it was I cannot say—they tore my clothes nearly off—I had 10d. and an old knife in my pocket—I was then flung in the ditch by the side of the road—Rose then went away, and I did not see him again—when I got up Ware came up and assaulted me—his father came up and took him away—I gave information to the police the next morning—at the first I only saw the two men, and the second time there was only Ware there.
Cross-examined. Q. You had been drinking that day two pints between three of you? A. Yes—I came from Brent ford with the two women—that is about two miles and a half from Ealing—we did not go into any other
public-houses on the way—I was sober—I went into the public-house again on my way home—I stayed in a shed that night; I was not fit to be seen—I had never seen Rose before.
Ware. Q. Did I throw you in the ditch? A. Yes—there were not a lot of men coming up—you did not leave me in a shed asleep—I did not tell the policeman that Rose put his hands over my mouth and eyes—I did not know who it was.
JOHN ROLF . I am landlord of the Cricketers' Arms, Ealing—on 3rd February, I came home about half past-four in the afternoon and saw the prosecutrix in the tap room; the two prisoners were there—the prosecutrix made a complaint to me—I told her not to make a bother, and put her out of the house, and left Ware in charge of her—Rose was behind—he came back to the public-house about three-quarters of an hour afterwards, and I saw nothing more of the woman or the other prisoner.
Cross-examined. Q. Had the prosecutrix been drinking. A. Judging from her appearance, I think she might have had a little—she was not drunk—she was capable of getting home.
MR. COLLINS. Q. Was she sufficiently sensible to know she had lost her umbrella? A. Yes.
JAMES DODD (Policeman X 21). On Tuesday morning, 4th February, the prosecutrix came to the station and made a complaint to me, in consequence of which I went to Ware's house—I found he had left home—I went next day, but could not find him—I took him in custody on the 7th, at his house, about one o'clock at night—I told him he was charged with stealing two umbrellas, and also with cutting a woman's pocket out and robbing her of 10d.—he said he took the umbrella, but he did not do anything to the woman—he said he was in the gravel pit with her—the prosecutrix's dress was all in rags and wet through—she showed me where the pocket had been cut out.
ADAM LANGLEY . On 4th February I took Rose—I said he was charged with being concerned in cutting a woman's pocket off and assaulting her—he said, "That's what I shall get for picking up a drunken woman"—I took him to the station, placed him with three other men, and the woman picked him out, and said, "That is the man, I believe, who put his hand over my mouth"—she said he was with her when her pocket was cut out, but she did not know who did it.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you known Rose some time? A. Yes, two years; he has always borne a good character.
Ware's defence. She was drunk, and I left her in a shed with a man—she asked for some beer, and the man asked if she had got any money—she said, "No, only 3d."—the man asked me to help her in the shed—the next morning when I saw her, the landlady said, "That is one of the men that took you down the lane," and told her to fetch a policeman, and said it was me cut her pocket out.
COURT to CHRISTIANA HODSON. Q. Have you got the pocket of your dress? A. Yes; it was only cut, not cut out.
ROSE— NOT GUILTY .
WARE— GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
WYLIE PLEADED GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor.— Six Months Imprisonment .
MR. LEWIS conducted the prosecution.
EDWARD HANCOCK (City Detective). From information I received I had been watching the prisoners since the latter part of January—Wylie was in the employment of Messrs. Millington & Co., wholesale stationers, Budge Row, Cannon Street—on 18th February I saw Poole in Bishopgate Street—I said "I am a detective officer and wish to speak to you; I have been watching you and a man named Wylie some time"—he said, "Wylie, I don't know anybody of that name"—I said, "He is in the employment of Messrs. Millington & Hutton"—he said, "I don't know anyone of that name at all"—I said "You have been disposing of a large quantity of stationery to a party in the Hackney Road, account books and other things"—he said, "I make those books and sell them"—I said, "But there are other things, there are a large quantity of envelopes and note-paper"—he said, "I deal in those, I am a waste paper dealer, and have been so the last two or three years"—I said, "The goods I speak of are not waste paper, they are all new goods, and the goods of Messrs. Millington & Hutton; from whom did you get these goods?"—he said, "From a man who has been to my house two or three times during the week"—he said he did not know what the man's name was, and I took him to the station—I then went down to the prosecutor's and saw Wylie—he made a statement to me, and I took him to the station—I then asked Poole if Wylie was the man from whom he had the goods—he hesitated for a minute or two, and then said "Yes"—I said, "He has made a statement in effect to this: the first time he did anything with you was before Christmas with respect to some outsides; that you asked him to get you some other goods and he did so; and that from that time up to the present you have been bothering him to take these goods and give them to you"—I pointed to the goods that are there and said, "These are the goods of which I speak"—he said, "Yes, I had those from him, I sold them and gave him the money"—Wylie said, "You only gave me a few shillings at a time"—that was all that took place.
Poole. You asked if I knew Wylie and I thought his name was Riley—I did not know where he lived, and I could not tell you before I saw him who he was, but I did not deny it when I saw him.
BAPTISTIE STOPPANI . I am a stationer, at 174, Hackney Road—I know Poole—on 18th January he called on me and represented himself as a vellum binder—he offered me two foolscap books, a dozen ciphering books, and two reams of note paper—I purchased them of him for 18s.—he came again a few days after, and brought some envelopes—I bought them of him for 4s. per 1000—I made inquiries, and communicated with the police, and under their direction I had two or three more transactions with the prisoner—I handed the goods to the officer Hancock—I never saw Wylie in any of these transactions, only Poole.
Poole. Q. When I brought the goods to you, did I say I was selling them for another party? A. Yes.
EDWARD GREENWOOD . I am an assistant to Messrs. Millington and Hutton—Wylie was in their employ—he had no right to send out goods without their knowledge—this property produced belongs to them—the value is about 2l. 10s.—I never saw Poole before to my knowledge.
Poole's Defence. I was going to set up in business, and Wylie said he would sell me some outsides—I went to Stoppani's place and told him I was selling them on commission—I sold them to him and gave the money to Wylie—he said it was very little, and he should not get any more—from that time I never got any more—I gave him the money I got for the books—he would not go in to sell them himself.
GUILTY on the second Count.— Eighteen Months .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. TAYLOR defended Lawrie, and the evidence was interpreted to Luigi.
HENRY LEWIS . I am manager to Mr. Clermont, of 11, Silver Street, Wood Street, foreign importer—these shawls (produced) are his property—on 30th January, I left the warehouse about four o'clock, they were then safe on the counter with about thirty others—other persons were in the warehouse when I left—I saw the shawls at the Police Court next day—they are worth about 6l.
Cross-examined. Q. Is there any mark on them. A. Yes; a number—I have the invoice which corresponds with those numbers, and I know the shawls by sight as well—I had recently handled them. I returned in about an hour—I heard of the loss the moment I returned from Mr. Clermont—there are two numbers on them, one corresponds with the invoice, the other is the manufacturer's number.
WILLIAM GREEN (City Detective 280). On the afternoon of 30th January I was in Gresham Street, with another officer, Whitney—I saw the prisoners come out of Wood Street into Gresham Street together, at about a quarter past five—we watched them, and saw them go into five different warehouses, one in Gresham Street, one in Aldermanbury, two in Wood Street, and one in Silver Street, which is Mr. Clermont's—Lawrie came out first, and walked on to Falcon Street, where Luigi joined him—they went several streets, until they came to King Edward Street, where they went into a public-house for a few minutes, and came out together—we followed them to the foot of Holborn Hill, where I stopped Lawrie—Whitney stopped Luigi—Lawrie was wearing a large cape—I said, "What have you got under your cape?"—he said, "Nothing"—I pulled his cape on one side, and found these two shawls—I said, "How do you account for these?"—he said, "I shall say nothing here, but I will speak to you at the station-house"—I took him to the station—in the presence of the inspector I asked him if the shawls were marked or ticketed—he said, "No, they are not"—I searched him, but found nothing on him.
Cross-examined. Q. Is this the first time you have remembered that you asked him if the shawls were ticketed? A. No; I stated it before the Magistrate—I am quite sure I said so—I may not have noticed it when I signed—they made no attempt to get away.
GEORGE WHITNEY (City Detective 98). I was with Green, and saw the prisoners go into Mr. Clermont's and come out again—Luigi was carrying this parcel (produced)—it contains three-quarters of a yard of moire antique—Lawrie came out first, and joined Luigi again in Falcon Street—I followed them and took Luigi—the charge was read over to them, and Lawrie said "He does not understand English at all" and then interpreted
the charge to Luigi—he gave his name, but declined to give any address—I afterwards went to Silver Street, and saw Mr. Clermont.
Luigi's Defence. I saw Lawrie pick them up in the street.
GUILTY . Lawrie was further charged with having been before convicted at Chelmsford in October, 1866, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude . LUIGI— Two Years' Imprisonment—There was another indictment against the prisoners.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY .**— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BOARDMAN . I live at 12, Printing House Lane, Doctors' Commons, and am a cart minder—on 29th January, about halfpast three I saw the prisoners near the Stereoscopic Company's place in Cheapside, close to Bow Lane—I saw a gentleman there—he went through Bow Church Yard—the prisoners followed him in Bow Lane—Eustace left the other prisoner, put his hand in the gentleman's pocket, and drew a handkerchief partly out—he then went and spoke to Lloyd—the gentleman went on to Watling Street, and they followed—Eustace then left the other prisoner again, and succeeded in getting the handkerchief entirely out of his pocket—I seized him—he dropped the handkerchief on the ground—I gave him to a constable and detained Lloyd—I charged them at the station, and went and found the gentleman—they were together about half an hour.
Lloyd. Q. How far were you from me when you saw me speak to Eustace. A. You spoke to him several times, sometimes I was two or three yards off, sometimes shoulder to shoulder—I had been watching you.
BENJAMIN MAY . I reside at 10, Loraine Road, Holloway—this (produced) is my handkerchief, I have no doubt of it—I do not know where I lost it—I was in Watling Street on 29th January, about three o'clock, going from Cheapside to Cannon Street—I saw a scuffle between Boardman and Eustace, but I did not see my handkerchief.
THOMAS JENKINSON (City Policeman 641). I took the prisoners to the station—Eustace said he had no home—Lloyd gave me his address "Bow"—before the Magistrate Eustace said he did it, and Lloyd knew nothing about it.
GUILTY .—Lloyd was further charged with having been before convicted at the Mansion House, on 15th March, 1867, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, February 27th, 1868.
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
On the evidence of JOHN ROLAND GIBSON, Surgeon of Newgate, THOMAS AMBROSE POTTER, Police Sergeant, MICHAEL CAMARON, City Policeman 273, and JOHN NEEDELL, the prisoner's brother, the Jury found the prisoner insane and unfit to plead .
MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution. GUILTY OF THE ATTEMPT .— Two Years' Imprisonment .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution. The evidence was interpreted to the
ELIZABETH YEATES . I live at 17, George Street, Marylebone, and am an unfortunate girl—I was in the prisoner's service about three months since—I was with him for four months—he talks English, and understands it well—I left his service of my own accord, because he kicked me and bruised me about—he did not dismiss me—I have seen him several times since, and he has requested me to return to his service, but I refused—on 20th December I was with Ada Davis in the Edgware Road, about a quarter past ten o'clock, and the prisoner came behind me and threw some fluid over me, which is called vitriol—it fell on my jacket, dress, petticoat, and stockings, and burnt them all off at the back (produced)—I tore the back of the dress off and made the remains into a petticoat, but there are the holes in it now—I had said nothing to him—he ran away and a policeman ran after him—it went all over my right cheek and hurt ray eye, and affected my hair a little, and my hands—I gave a description of him to Inspector Simms at the station, but did not give his name and address—I next saw the prisoner on 24th December, by Praed Street, about a quarter past eight o'clock—Eliza Brooks was with me then—he again threw vitriol over me, and my dress, and jacket, and petticoat were burnt—I was not burnt, only my clothes—one or two nights after that I met the prisoner again in the Coach and Horses, Edgware Road, drinking with some girls—he asked me to have something to drink, but I refused, as I was afraid—he then said that if I did not go back he would do for me—I said that if he did for me I could get somebody to do for him—he said that it was no use to get anybody to take my part, for he had enough in his pocket to do for six—I met him several times before 4th January, but did not speak to him—on 4th January I saw him in the Edgware Road, about a quarter to seven o'clock—I was alone, and he came behind me, passed by me, threw some vitriol over me and then crossed the road—as he crossed I saw it on my clothes—he threw it all on my back, he did not put it over my shoulders or neck—it did not come over any part of my person—my dress, and jacket, and petticoat were all burnt with it—he did not throw it on my hands on the last occasion, but as I took up my clothes my hands became burnt with it—Hepburn came up and asked me what was the matter, and said, "That is the man that did it"—I said, "Yes,
he has done it two or three times"—he asked me to go to the police station, but I said I would not, I would go home—the clothes I had on on the first occasion have been destroyed—I showed them to my landlady on all three occasions, and she took them off, and wanted me to go to a doctor, but I would not—I saw the prisoner several times between 20th December and 4th January, but was afraid to speak to him, because he had threatened me—he came up to my house and threatened me if I came to the door—I said that I would get somebody to move him away if he did not go away—I went to the police station on 6th January and applied for a warrant against him.
COURT considered there was no case for the Jury, as, if the prisoner intended to do grievous bodily harm on that day, he would have thrown the vitriol on the prosecutrix' face, neck, or hands.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH YEATES . On 20th December, I was in the Edgware Road with Ada Davis, and the prisoner came behind me and threw something on my back—I saw him throw it as if he was pouring it—I was looking towards him, and he was close against me—Ada said "Here comes your master as was," and I turned round, and he threw it over me—he seemed to aim at my face, and it went all down my face—it struck me on the right side of my face, and my ear and eye—the right side of my face was burnt, and my ear—these (produced) are parts of the clothes I wore that night—a policeman spoke to me, saw that my dress was burnt, and, in consequence of what he said, I went to the station and described the prisoner, but did not give his name or address—he had a light hat, a dark coat, and a light pair of trousers.
Prisoner. Q. Did you have seven days' imprisonment on 28th November? A. Yes; in the name of Alice Thomas—I was never in prison before that—I was not a gay woman before I went to you—before I went to you I lived at Maida Hill—I am seventeen years old—you sent a woman to Maida Hill, to ask if I would go and work for you—I first made your acquaintance at Maida Hill, not under the Haymarket Arcade at eleven o'clock at night—I did not say so at the police court—I said that I lived near the Haymarket with you—I did not go to Maida Hill from a penitentiary or reformatory—when I came out of prison in December, you offered to assist me if I would go and live with you: but I would not—after the vitriol was first thrown at me, I did not say to several persons that it was a Fenian in the garb of a bricklayer—you met me and wanted to speak to me; but I said that I did not want to speak to you; if you would go your way, I would go mine, and I should be much obliged to you—you sent me my things on 3rd January—I did not say that there was only half of them.
ADA DAVIS . I am an unfortunate girl—on 20th December I was with Yeates, in Edgware Road, from ten to half-past, and saw the prisoner there, three or four yards from us—he came by us, and threw some fluid over Yeates—he intended to throw it in her face, but she put her hands up and prevented it, but all the side of her face and hands were burnt—I saw a kind of bottle or tin in the prisoner's hand—he put it in his pocket, and ran across the road towards the Park—I knew him before—he had been to
our house three or four times—I live with Yeates, and he had been to give me something to give her—he saw her that day, and asked her to go back to live with him, but she declined—they had a few words, but I did not notice what they said.
Prisoner. Q. Was that at the time she had just come out of prison? A. I think she had just come out for seven days—you came to offer her assistance if she would go back and live with you—I did not see you on the night I lost my muff and umbrella, but I saw you two nights afterwards and told you of it—I did not tell you that some one had thrown vitriol on Yeates; a man, dressed like a bricklayer, a Fenian—I did not speak to you about it—you told me of it first in the Coach and Horses—she was burnt and had marks on the right side of her face and on her hands, but I do not think she has any now—I heard that a warrant was applied for against you on 7th January—I did not tell Polly it was a shameful thing to take a person who was not guilty, or that I had been with Yeates on one occasion and saw a man dressed like a sailor or a navvy do it.
COURT. Q. How many times did you see him after 20th December? A. Four or five times—I have never told him of it or reproached him, or said that it was a great shame—he asked me if I thought it was him, and I said I would not interfere with it—he said, "Do you think she thinks it is me?"—I said, "I will not say one way or another, because I do not want to have anything to do with it"—he said, "It is strange if she does not think it is me"—I had known much of him before, he had been at my house on the Sunday before Christmas—I was ill in bed—he asked for me, and I got up—I went down to look for him and he was gone—I met him afterwards and he said that if I could get her to speak to him, or go to him, he would give me a present—that was on Sunday—I saw him on Monday, and drank with him.
THOMAS CHARLES KIRBY . I am a licentiate of the Royal College of Physicians—I took part of these clothes away, and examined them at home—there are marks on them made by oil of vitriol—I have not examined the prosecutrix—she would have no marks a day or two afterwards, if she wiped the vitriol off directly and her face was dry—if it had burnt through the skin there would have been a mark, but it would have caused all the feelings she has described without burning through the skin.
Prisoner. Q. Do you think oil of vitriol could be kept in a tin bottle? A. It could be carried in a tin bottle an hour or two, but it could not be kept long in it—it would not dissolve the tin immediately—an earthen vessel will keep it.
MARY MACEY . I am a widow, and live in George Street—the prosecutrix lives with me—on 20th December she came home between eleven and twelve o'clock with two breadths and a half of the skirt taken out of her dress—it was completely burnt into holes—her face was wet with the liquid, and there were drops in her ear—I wiped it off, and put oil on it—her face was very hot, but the skin did not come off, the oil prevented it—my house is quite five minutes' walk from where the stuff is supposed to have been thrown.
Prisoner. Q. Did Yeates tell you who had done it? A. She said she did not know.
COURT to DR. KIRBY. Q. If the stuff had remained on her five minutes would it have burnt through the skin, or made a mark? A. A very bad mark.
——DOUTHWAITE (Policeman D 175). On 20th November I was on duty in the Edgware Road, and the prosecutrix complained to me—I examined her clothes, and saw red fluid on her jacket, dress, and petticoat—it made red marks—her face appeared a little red, and her hands too, a little inflamed; a slap on the face would have made the same—I took her to the station.
JOHN SIMMS (Police Inspector D). On 20th December, about ten minutes after ten, Yeates was brought to the station—her clothing was dripping with wet—her jacket was very much burnt, and her skirts and underclothing and boots and stockings wore burnt—I do not recollect seeing her dress, whether she had it up or not I do not know—her face and hands were red—a warrant was applied for on 6th January, and the prisoner came to the station on the 8th, between twelve and one o'clock in the morning—he said, "I believe there is a warrant out against me for throwing vitriol"—I asked him if his name was Gilson, a Frenchman—he said, "Yes"—I said, "There is a warrant out, and you must consider yourself in custody."
Prisoner. Q. Did you send for the prosecutrix on the 7th, at two in the morning? A. Yes; she came there on one occasion to complain of vitriol being thrown over her, and on the second occasion I heard that there was a clue to the person who had done it, and sent for her, and told her that if she knew his address she should go to the Magistrate and apply for a warrant to apprehend him—the prisoner understands English well, and speaks it as fluently as myself.
MR. MOODY to E. YEATES. Q. When you saw Mrs. Moody on 20th December, did she ask you who had done it? A. Yes; I said that I did not know, because I did not wish to tell her.
COURT. Q. How came you to do that? A. Because Ada said I was not to give him in charge—I told an untruth.
Prisoner's Defence. On 20th December I was not in the Edgware Road or the neighbourhood; I was at work at the Oxford Music Hall, regulating the gas meter under a new invention of mine. The inspector has got a letter from the manager of that establishment which will bear out that I was at work there that week. I have witnesses to prove it, among whom is the gas engineer. The inspector has got the book, which shows how much gas was consumed, and I believe I can recollect the amount consumed in three days.
Witnesses for the Defence.
MATILDE MONROW . On 20th December I met Elizabeth Yeates in the Edgware Road—she told me she had had something thrown over her, and I stopped by a jeweller's shop and looked at it—she said that it was a bricklayer chap, a b—y Fenian—I met the prisoner one night, and told him about it, and he told me to tell Yeates that he would either send her wearing apparel by parcels' delivery, or leave it at a public-house for her.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. Do you also go by the name of McGill? A. Yes—I have not known the prisoner long—I have only just come out of prison for fourteen days—I was charged with assaulting the prosecutrix, but I never saw her.
SELINA TURNER . I was with Munrow on 20th December, and met Yeates at the corner of Chapel Street—she said that it was done by a bricklayer and a Fenian—she first said that it was thrown out of a tin box, then out of a pint pot, and then out of a glass bottle.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you also had fourteen days for assaulting Yeates? A. Yes, but I did not assault her.
MARGARET OLIVE . I do not know the prisoner—on the Friday before Christmas, I met Elizabeth Yeates between nine and ten at night—she told me that a man had thrown some stuff over her—I said, "It is blood"—she said, "No, but it has burnt it"—I said, "Who did it?"—she said, "A tall man with a long carroty beard and light trousers"—I said, "What did he do it for?"—she said, "Because I accidentally knocked against him—he called me a b——y cow, and I called him a b——y Fenian, and he took a tin box and threw something in my face, and if I had not put my hands up it would have blinded me.
EMMA GATHERCOLE . I did not know the prisoner before this trial, and did not offer to come as a witness for him—I was walking down Chapel Street on Christmas eve with Yeates, and a man came up and looked in her face, and she said, "Who are you looking at, you b—y Fenian?" he said, "If I am a b—y Fenian, you are a b—y cow, take the contents of this," and flung something at her—I went to try and look after him, but the place was so crowded I could not see him, and he escaped—I have my own dress here with some of the vitriol on it.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. I am an unfortunate—I am seventeen years old—I do not know the prisoner—I came here to-day because my sister was staying with a person where I am lodging, and they told me of it—and when I saw my dress was burnt I thought I would come and speak.
COURT. Q. Is the prisoner the man who did this? A. No—I can swear to the man if I was to see him.
FERDINAND COEUILLE . I worked with the prisoner the first days of the week, from 21st December, at the Oxford Music Hall, in the day time; and on the Wednesday and Thursday, from eight to eleven at night, regularly every day; and on the 23rd and 24th we verified the work done, looked over it, and balanced it.
Cross-examined. Q. How do you fix the time that you were working at the Oxford Music Hall? A. I had nothing to do, and I went with the prisoner—I know it was the time the gas was lit, and I remained till it was over, till half-past ten—I know it was the 21st, because the prisoner came to fetch me at that time, and said that he had some work for me to do—I have no memorandum—he employed me—I had worked at Mr. Distin's just before—I worked there five years, and left last November—I have nothing to fix the date by—I do not know Selina Turner or Monrow—I have not lived in the same house with them—I have not during the last month slept in the house where they live—I have not promised them any money if the prisoner is acquitted to-day.
ELISE GILET . I am a laundress and know the prisoner as a friend, who occasionally comes to our house—on the night of 24th December he was with me at Mr. Morrison's, from a quarter past nine to a quarter past ten, when he passed out of the shop he went into Lisson Grove, that was at a quarter past ten.
COURT. Where was he with you? A. In New Church Street, Edgware Road—that is not a mile from the Edgware Road—I do not speak French.
station, and afterwards took her to a public-house and gave her something to drink—I have known her about three months—I did not know her before she went to live with the prisoner.
COURT. Q. What are you? A. I have been a greengrocer, I now serve shops with bottles—I live at 21, Exeter Street, Lisson Grove—I did not know the prisoner before this charge—I never saw him till to-day—he knew that I would tell this story because I was with a girl who they summoned, and they then summoned me—it was that foolish-faced girl, Matilde; I think—I did not got my summons till last Tuesday week—she had not told me anything about Yates, but I suppose she told the prisoner that I would tell this story—I told the girl where I lived—they know I was with Matilde Monrow and with Yeates.
Prisoner. I told the Inspector on the 20th, that I was absent, at work at the Oxford Music Hall—I know nothing of the affair of the 20th till I went to the station—Ada Davis said that she did not see me on the 23rd, and when asked by my Lord she admitted having spoken to me on that day—I was in the Edgware Road on the 24th, but the process under which I work at gas meters can only be used at night, when the gas is alight.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, February 27th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
268. CHRISTOPHER BERTON (24), ALPHONSE PORTANSENE (31), JEAN JOSEPH (31), CLEMEN ARNEAUX (25), and ABRAHAM JACKSON (40) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Jeremiah Mulcahy, and stealing one thermometer and other articles his property.
MR. R. N. PHILLIPS conducted the Prosecution; MR. DALEY defended Jackson; and MR. LANGFORD the other prisoners.
THOMAS BURKE (Policeman H 49). About two a.m. on 30th December I was on duty in Royal Mint Street—I saw Berton, Portansene, and Jackson there, about twenty yards from Mulcahy's house—when they saw me they walked away, and I and another constable followed on the opposite side of the road—they quickened their pace and we lost sight of them—they went towards the City—about a quarter of an hour afterwards I returned to the same place, and saw Berton and Portansene at the cornor of the street, just beside Mulcahy's house—about ten minutes afterwards, in consequence of information I received from a watchman, I stopped them, and, with the watchman's assistance, took them to the station—I searched Berton and found on him a crowbar, two wedges, thirteen keys (one of them a skeleton key), and two boxes of matches—the crowbar was in his left inside coat pocket—I searched Portansene and found a dagger in a case, two medals, a purse, and some coppers—I returned to Royal Mint Street and there met Herbert—I saw Joseph and Arneaux coming from the direction of the back of Mulcahy's house, clone upon five o'clock.
(Berton here stated that he wished to PLEADED GUILTY, but as he was in the charge of the Jury his plea was not taken.)
Witness. I stopped them—Arneaux had a hamper on his shoulders—I asked him what he had got in it—he said in broken English he had got provisions, and was going on board a ship lying along the river side—he told mo the name of the ship, but I have forgotten it—there was a cloth tied over the hamper—I asked him to open it; he refused—I then examined it—it contained 31lbs. bacon, 9lbs. candles, 5lbs. butter, 3lbs. tea, 3lbs. lard, 5lbs. coffee, 1 ½lbs. tobacco, 3½lbs. sugar, a quantity of lace, thread, buttons, hair-pins, and a pair of copper scales and a thermometer (produced)—Herbert took Joseph—they stood quietly while I sorted out the hamper—I did not see them take anything from their pockets because I was stooping—Arneaux dropped a knife which, I afterwards found—we took the prisoners to the station and then I returned to Mulcahy's house—I found the shutters had been prized open and the windows were partly open—the door leading from the kitchen to the shop had also been prized open and the lock prized off—I produce the lock—I took the Jemmy produced—the marks on the wood work correspond with it—on 14th January Jackson was apprehended by another constable, and I went to the station and charged him—I recognised him as being in company with Berton and Portansene on the morning of 30th December—I am quite satisfied of that.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. How long had you seen Jackson and the other two prisoners? A. About two hours—they always hastened away when they saw me—I first saw them about one o'clock—they separated, and Jackson went in a different direction to the others.
PHILIP CARTER . I am a watchman in the employ of Messrs. Seaward Brothers, 32, Chambers Street, Whitechapel—on the morning of 30th December, between one and two o'clock, I was standing at the gate of No. 32, about a hundred yards from Mulcahy's house—the five prisoners passed me, and after they had gone about three or four yards they separated, Joseph, Arneaux, and Jackson going in one direction, and the other two in another—between two and three o'clock, I was standing at the same gate, and Berton and Portansene passed again—I asked them what time it was, and Berton said, in broken English, that it was between two and three—they turned down towards Mulcahy's house, and I followed them—when they got to the bottom gate, they stopped and spoke to someone at No. 2; I do not know who—they went down Royal Mint Street, and I went to the steps and saw Jackson kneeling down orer a grating at 2, Swallow's Gardens—I said, "What are you doing there"—he said, "Me sleep"—he got up, and went towards the City—I followed him, but not seeing a policeman, I was obliged to go back to my own premises, and I did not see him again until he was in custody—I returned to the place where I had seen him, and there saw Burke, with whom I had some conversation, and during that time Berton and Portansene came back, and I pointed them out to him—we stopped them, and Burke searched Berton and took the crowbar and keys from him—Berton said he belonged to a ship, and the keys belonged to his boxes—I saw a knife—Portansene said he wanted a match to light his pipe.
Cross-examined by MR. DALKY. Q. How far is Swallow's Gardens from Mulcahy's house? A. About ten yards; the back of the house comes right up to it—Jackson was kneeling down, and his fingers had hold of the shutters, as if he was looking between them.
SAMUEL HERBERT . I am in the employ of the Midland Railway Company—on the morning of 30th December I was employed as watchman outside the station, and about four o'clock I was in Royal Mint Street—I saw Jackson in Swallow's Gardens; when he saw me he moved away—about a quarter past four I saw him again, standing at the corner of Royal Mint Street—he asked me what time it was, and I told him about ten minutes past four—he thanked me, and moved away—I saw Burke, and spoke to him, and as we were going after Jackson, Joseph and Arneaux came round the corner—we stopped them—Arneaux had a hamper, and Joseph had a walking stick—I saw the hamper opened, and a quantity of articles taken from it, such as tea, sugar, coffee, and bacon, and also a knife, which he gave me—Joseph, as soon as he saw he was going to be taken, said something which sounded like "Hush," and then said, "Stab him"—he then snatched at the knife I had, twice—I dropped it, and then threw him into the road—in the struggle he dropped this chisel (produced)—about four o'clock on 14th January I saw Jackson go into an oil shop in Royal Mint Street—a policeman came up, and he was taken in custody—I am sure he is the man that asked me the time on 30th December.
Cross-examined by MR. DALEY. Q. When was it you first saw Jackson? A. About half past two—he was then loitering about our gates—I saw him the second time about four o'clock, at the corner of Royal Mint Street—he was alone on both occasions.
JEREMIAH MULCAHY . I keep a beer-house at 123, Royal Mint Street—I shut up my house about eleven o'clock on 29th December—the shutters were fastened and the windows closed—about five o'clock next morning, in consequence of information, I went down into the back room—I found the shutter off the window altogether, and standing against the wall of the house—the window and the shop door were open—I went into the shop, and missed a quantity of things, and then went to the police station to report—I missed a pair of copper scales, a thermometer, a quantity of butter, lard, tea, and coffee, and things of that kind, and about 4s. in coppers—I identify these things produced—Jackson was at my house, with another man, on the Saturday night before the robbery—I think that was the 28th—I saw them looking at and examining the house—I do not recognize any of the others.
Jackson's statement before the Magistrate:—"I never broke into a house; what the witnesses have said is false. I never was brought up to theft."
BERTON, PORTANSENE, JOSEPH and ARNEAUX— GUILTY .
JACKSON— NOT GUILTY .
Berton, Portansene, and Arneaux were further charged with having been previously convicted, Berton at this Court in February, 1867, and Portansene and Arneaux in October, 1867, at Chertsey, to which BERTON and PORTANSENE PLEADED GUILTY.
RICHARD KEMP . I am a warder at the House of Correction, Wandsworth—I produce a certificate. (Read:—"Chertsey: Jules Marville and Alphonse Portansene, convicted 2nd October, 1867—21 days each")—I was not present, but we received Marville under a warrant from Chertsey—Jules Marville is the same man who has now given the name of Arneaux.
Cross-examined by MR. LANGFORD. Q. It is possible that you might have made a mistake? A. No; it is only last October.
ARNEAUX—GUILTY.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . BERTON— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
PORTANSENE— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
JOSEPH— Two Years' Imprisonment .
269. CHRISTOPHER BERTON and ALPHONSE PORTANSENE were again indicted, with JOSEPH MAGNOERIO (34) , for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Henry Thomas Bailey, and stealing coats, trousers, shawls, and other articles, his property.
MR. R. N. PHILLIPS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LANGFORD the Defence.
HENRY THOMAS BAILEY . I live at 235, High Street, Shadwell, and keep the Britannia beer-house—about six a.m. on 19th October I was awoke, and in consequence of what was said to me I examined the house—I had fastened it all securely the previous night, the door with two bolts and the window with a latch—I found the window and door both open, and in the back parlour I found a square file, and a knife bent, neither of which belonged to me—I missed about 2lbs. of tobacco, some knives and forks, a table cloth, and a shawl—they were all safe the night before—three chests were broken open, and some coats, trousers, and shirts taken frome them—they did not belong to me—the amount of what I lost was about 25s.—I was afterwards shown Joseph in custody at Newgate—he had lodged at my place for five or six nights, about six months ago—he was wearing a pair of trousers that I identified as belonging to a sailor who had lodged with me, and another man was wearing a coat that I identified—that man is not here—I can swear to this knife (produced.)
MARGARET BAILEY . I am the wife of the last witness—on the morning of 19th October our house was broken into—we were called by one of the boarders in the morning—I went down, found the ground floor in a state of disorder, and I missed several articles—this tablecloth is one of them, but it has been cut through the middle since then—it is mine, and was safe the night before—I can swear to my own hemming—a deal of clothing was taken away—a black and white scarf shawl was also taken; that is not here—I know Joseph, because he lodged with us, and about two days before the robbery, he and a stoutish man came in and called for a pint of ale.
JACQUE ADRIAN DAGOURI (Interpreted). I live at 4, Tower Street—I know all the prisoners—about three months ago I lodged with Magnoerio—early one morning, when I was in bed, Magnoerio came home with Secaldi (Joseph) and Nestro Donian (Berton)—they had knives and forks, and several suits—they had knives similar to those produced, but larger—they had a table cloth, but it was in one piece and larger than this—I heard Magnoerio tell the other prisoners that he should sell that cloth to Madam Blantelle, and also the knives and forks next morning—they slept there, and next day Magnoerio brought some money and a pawnbroker's ticket; he had pledged the cloth and sold the knives and forks—he sold the ticket to Madam Blantelle—I saw a coat that one of them was wearing that night—I heard Secaldi say that the knives and forks and tablecloth were stolen from a public-house where he had lodged—this conversation was going on between the three prisoners, as they were taking their coffee, and I overheard it.
Cross-examined. Q. What day was this? A. In the beginning of October—it took place at my lodgings, No. 7, Tower Street; I am now living at No. 4—I have no occupation—I had been in England one year on 8th January—I came from France, in St. Jernie—I was never at Brest or Toulon—I was at Poriano when I was a soldier—I have been six weeks in jail in London; I cannot recollect where, but I think Clerkenwell—I have never been sent to the galleys in France—I have never been tried for murder—I kept a wine-shop in France at 1, Rue St. Mardi—I left France because I was not successful in business—I have got my living since I have been in England by cleaning boots, and one thing and another, and taking messages—I lived seventeen years at Rue St. Mardi, near Paris.
JOSEPHINE BLANTELLA (Interpreted). I live at Rider's Court, Leicester Square—my husband's name is Louis Blantelle—he keeps a restaurant—I have known Magnoerio about a year—not the others—he used to come to my place sometimes and take his meals—I know this table cloth; I gave it up to the constable about three weeks ago—I bought it of Magnoerio between three and four months ago—he said that a woman in bad circumstances and distress possessed it, and she would be obliged if I could buy the ticket—I gave him 2s., and he went and took the table cloth out of pawn and brought it to me—I cut it in two because my tables are smaller—a little time afterwards he came again and asked me to buy the knives and forks, for which I gave him 2s.
Cross-examined. Q. How long after was it when he brought the knives and forks. A/. Five or six days.
PORTER WILLIAM DUNNAWAY (Police Sergeant K 11). On 27th January I apprehended Magnoerio at an ale store in Garret Street—I charged him through an interpreter with being concerned with others in breaking into a house, and stealing a quantity of things—he said he knew nothing of it—I did not describe the place—I took him to Vine Street station, and he was then told the charge again through the interpreter.
ALEXANDER GAURONOVICH . I saw Magnoerio in Dunnaway's custody on 27th January—I interpreted the charge at Vine Street station—Dunnaway told him he apprehended him for a robbery he committed at the Britannia public house, Shadwell—the prisoner was taken in custody from a beer-shop, but I did not interpret anything till we got to Vine Street—we afterwards went in a cab to Leman Street where the prosecutor identified the table cloth—Magnoerio said that he pawned the table cloth and sold the knives, but that he had not stolen them.
SERGEANT DUNNAWAY (re-examined). I received the knives and forks, and table cloth from Mrs. Blantelle at her house—after that I went to Shadwell with the interpreter and the witness Dagouri, who went in front of us and pointed out the Britannia beer-shop, the back part of it; that was Bailey's house—I went there in consequence of a letter that was written by Dagouri to Sir Richard Mayne—I have got that letter—I was taken to Dagouri by Sergeant Micklejohn, of the Detective Force—Dagouri pointed to Bailey's house and said in broken English, that was the house; and he explained how they got over the wall—he lives at 4, Tower Street, Seven Dials, which is let out in tenements, and he lives in the garret—I don't know how he gets his living.
COURT to J. A. DAGOURI. Q. Did yon point out how this house was broken into? A. Yes—I was not present when it was done, I was asleep—I knew it had been done, because Sicaldi told me he had done it.
Magnoerio's Statement before the Magistrate:—"At the end of September last, I met Dagouri with two men. Dagouri asked for them to be taken in by me. I allowed them to come; they all three slept on a mattress, I on my own bed. Dagouri is a thousand times more guilty than I am. I am a victim for having done him a service. I am innocent; I knew nothing of the robbery. Dagouri knew they were stolen; I did not."
NOT GUILTY .
270. THOMAS HENRY BENNETT (35) and JOSEPH MEDCALF BODMAN (30) , Unlawfully destroying, within three months of their bankruptcy, their books of account, with intent to conceal their affairs, and defeat the objects of the law of bankruptcy.
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution, and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
JOHN CHARLES AUSTIN . I am one of the ushers of the Court of Bankruptcy—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of Thomas Henry Bennett and Joseph Medcalf Bodman—they are described as "Thomas Henry Bennett, formerly residing at 39, Great Coram Street, Russell Square, then of Gower Place, Gordon Square, and now of 33, Devonshire Street, Queen Square; and Joseph Medcalf Bodman, of 4, Jackson Road, Holloway, trading as co-partners, first at 148, High Holborn, and then and now of 3, Leigh Street, Red Lion Square"—it is their own petition, and is dated 5th April, 1867—I produce also the London Gazette containing the advertisement of the bankruptcy. (MR. POLAND proposed to give evidence of a former bankruptcy against Bennett, to which MR. LEWIS objected, but the COURT ruled that it might be given.)—I produce the proceedings in bankruptcy against a person adjudicated as Henry Bennett on 1st January, 1862—I have got two previous bankruptcies; one is 11th August, 1862—I also produce the proceedings against Thomas Bennett, otherwise Henry Bennett, of 24th June, 1864, and also the Gazette for those years—the bankrupts have passed their last examination, and the order of discharge is standing over.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Bennett examined privately on 28th June? A. Yes—Bodman was first examined on 10th July, and again on 3rd August—the petition is dated 5th April—the first meeting was held on 29th April, the second on 11th June, the third on 9th August, and the fourth on 12th November—that was the last day for passing the accounts—it does not appear whether they passed without opposition, and never does appear.
CHARLES LEGGATT BARBER . I am a shorthand writer—I was appointed by the Court of Bankruptcy to take examinations of the defendants—on 28th June, Bennett was examined, and was represented by Mr. Lewis—I took down that examination in shorthand, and afterwards made the manuscript which is on the proceedings—I also took Bodman's examinations on 10th July and 3rd August—the examination on the file is a correct transcript of the notes I took.
JOSEPH BURNSKILL . I am clerk to Messrs. Ford & Lloyd, solicitors for this prosecution—I was present at the Bankruptcy Court when the defendants signed the transcripts of the examinations—they have signed every sheet—the transcripts on the proceedings are those signed by Bennett and Bodman—I have the account, filed 8th June, 1867, before me—it is signed by the two defendants—there is a Deficiency Account on that page, and it is stated to be 3, 503l. 6s.—I have here also a list of books given up by them,
which is also signed—the books are one ledger, one cash book, one day book, one order book, two banker's pass books, one machine-work book, a bill book, and a goods bought book—those books, with the exception of the order book, are in Court—the proceedings in 1864 are signed by Bennett.
DAVID JAMES ROBERTS . I am traveller to Messrs. Kirby, Beard, & Co.—I entered the defendant's service in the commencement of January, 1867, and remained up to the time of their bankruptcy—I was a commercial traveller—about a month before the bankruptcy Bennett asked me if I would mind helping Bodman with the books—I am not sure as to the time, it might be a month or a fortnight before the bankruptcy—I said I would rather do that than stop in London doing nothing—up to that time I had had nothing to do with the books—after that conversation I saw this book (The Ledger) at Mr. Bodman's house, Jackson Road, Holloway—most of the entries in it were made by me in the parlour at Bodman's house—I made them from Mr. Bodman's direction—Bennett came there once or twice—in the account of Elbra & Co., in this ledger, the first line is "Balance of folio 165: 688l. 10s. 1 ½d.—the 688l. 10s. 1 ½d. is struck out and 339l. 8s. 8d. is written over it—I did that by Mr. Bodman's orders—all the other entries in that account were written by me from Bodman's directions—on page nineteen is an account with J. Dawson, and the first line is "Balance from O.L folio 32: 125l. 14s. 4d.;" the "Balance from O.L. folio 32" and "Goods" written in—on page 85 I find an account with N. Fisher & Sons, and the first line is "Balance from O.L. folio 156: 165l. 12s. 6d.;" the figures 165l. 12s. 6d. are struck out and 50l. written over them—on the other side is "January 1st, Balance from O.L. folio 156: 815l. 15s. 8d.;" that has been struck out and 450l. 5s. 10d. put in; but those figures are not in my writing—I do not know whose it is—there are a great many other accounts commencing with "Balance from O.L."—I do not know what became of the old ledger—Bodman directed those entries from a book—I last saw that book at Bodman's house, about a fortnight before the bankruptcy—I do not know whether it was full or not—I did not have it in my hands.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Mr. Bodman ill at the time? A. Yes; that was the reason I went to his house—he called out the balances from another book—I could have seen that book if I had wished; when he went to dine, it was left on the table—I do not recollect going through the balances a second time to see if they were correct, nor that it was found in some instances that the whole debit had been brought forward instead of the balance—I know he told me there were some mistakes, and those mistakes were corrected immediately after the entries were made—I am not able to say that that was the cause of the whole debit being brought forward instead of the balance—this purports being a ledger bringing forward the balances from 1st January—I should not like to say how many accounts there are in this ledger without counting them—I do not know that the book from which Bodman dictated had been used in Bennett's previous business; it was used in the business of Bennett and Bodman—I cannot say whether it was finished.
FREDERICK SAUNDERS . I am now clerk to Messrs. Smith, of Cannon Street—I was formerly in the defendants' service, who carried on business in Leigh Street, Red Lion Square—I was with them six or eight months, and remained until the time of the bankruptcy—I kept the day book, the ledger, and the invoice book—they were used in the business in 1868—I did not keep the cash book—this book (produced) is a cash book, beginning
1st January, 1867—the entries in this book up to the 16th March, 1867, are mine; I copied them from the old cash book—Mr. Bennett told me to do it—I have copied them page by page as they were in the old cash book—after 16th March, the entries are made by Mr. Bodrnan—I copied them about three weeks or a month previous to the bankruptcy.
COURT. Q. Can you tell whether you did it after the date up to which you did it, or was that the time at which you finished copying? A. That was about the time I finished.
MR. POLAND. Q. What became of the old cash book? A. I do not know—I last saw it at the time I finished making the entries, and I believe the old ledger was about the premises at the same time—that was about three weeks before the bankruptcy—I do not know what became of it further than I believe it was taken to Bodman's house—I find some entries in this cash book of Barton & Co. and Elbra & Co. in Bodman's writing—Barton & Co. is cash received—I do not recollect whether the old cash book was nearly full—Bennett told me to begin at 1st January, 1867.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you recollect whether you cast up the old cash book before you commenced copying it? A. I believe I did in pencil, but Bodman went over it afterwards—I did not bring the cash balances forward—Bodman was at home ill—my directions were to copy it, without omitting any item whatever, from 1st January—I used to keep the old ledger—it was quite full at this time—I do not know whether the cash book was nearly full—it was not full—I do not know whether the ledger had been used in a business prior to Bennett & Bodman's.
MR. POLAND. Q. You say the old ledger was quite full; you do not mean that all the pages were full, but that there was not room for fresh accounts? A. Yes; there was no room for fresh accounts.
BENJAMIN NICHOLSON . I have been appointed by the creditors of bankruptcy to manage the estate on behalf of the assignees, and I have had the defendant's books—the gross amount of assets realized from 5th April to the present time is about 300l.—I have not the exact figures before me—the amount of liabilities, excluding creditors holding security, is about 4, 100l.—there is no property to be realized—I have seen the books given up, and there is no means whatever of ascertaining what the balance from the old ledger consists of—I have examined all the books—in the cash book there are no entries relating to the year 1866 at all, except a balance brought from the old year of 178l. 15s. 8d.—the Deficiency Account, filed on 8th June, 1867, is 3, 385l. 6s. 7d., and I have no means whatever of ascertaining how that deficiency arose—it says, "Cause of deficiency, badness of trade, and heavy losses in consequence of attempting to establish a larger trade than our capital would admit; being disappointed in obtaining additional capital"—amongst the bankrupts' papers I have found an invoice for the new books, purchased on 28th February—the cash book and ledger, and also the returned cheque paid for them on 11th March—I cannot find the order book amongst the books given up—I was present at the Court of Bankruptcy when Bennett was examined—he stated that it was given up—I got the books from the official assignee's office.
Cross-examined. Q. How many times have you seen the bankrupts personally between 5th April and 12th November? A. Probably five or six times—I was the accountant in the matter—I should have had no difficulty in making up the accounts, but they were no guide whatever; but in taking those balances as correct I had no difficulty—I did not ask, and I had no
necessity to ask, the bankrupts a single question in reference to the deficiency—I directed questions to be put to them at the Bankruptcy Court—there is not always a deficiency in every bankruptcy, sometimes there is a surplus.
MR. POLAND. Q. Is there a solicitor employed on behalf of the creditors? A. Yes: I report matters to them—I do not cross-examine the bankrupts.
——LOUGHTON. I am clerk to Messrs. Smart and Snell, the accountants—some books were brought to our offices, and I received them—I made a list of them, and took them to the Bankruptcy Court—there were one bill book, one ledger, two pass books, one invoice book, one machine-work book, one cash book, one credit note, City Bank, and a file of invoices—there was no order book.
Cross-examined. Q. Did your firm act as accountants for the bankrupts? A. I do not know—I received the books on 1st April from the bankrupts, for Smart and Snell, and took them to the Bankruptcy Court on the 8th—I do not recollect whether a meeting was held at the offices after the books were brought, there are so many meetings held there—there may have been.
Bennetts statement before the Magistrate: "We do not deny destroying the books, but we have not done so with any felonious intent."
Bodman's statement. I have nothing to say, except they were not destroyed with any felonious intent.
JOHN LOADER . I live at 13, Pratt Street, Camden town—I had the management of the business of Elbra & Company, of St. Martin's Court—I was appointed manager partly by Bennett, and partly by the person who assumed the name of Elbra—I afterwards ascertained that that person's name was Knight—I understood he was step-father to Bennett—that business finished, as far as I can recollect, about the latter end of February, 1867—Bennett used to come there once or twice a week—I used to get the money from Bennett to pay people with—when the place was shut up, the goods were taken to Leigh Street—we only manufactured at St. Martin's Court.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you do not know what arrangement there was between Bennett and Elbra. A. No; Elbra was Mr. Knight at Leigh Street, and Mr. Elbra at St. Martin's Court—he was there when the business closed.
MR. POLAND. Q. Who told you to shut up the shop? A. Bennett. The examinations taken in Bankruptcy were put in and read.
BENNETT— GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment .
BODMAN received a good character— GUILTY.—Strongly Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Six Months' Imprisonment .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, February 27th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STARLING wickenham, and am the prosecutor's housemaid—on Sunday 26th January, about half-past nine, I and the servant girl, Matilda Hurrell, were in the back parlour on the ground floor—we saw the door open and two men in the doorway—the prisoner I believe to be one of them—he was going towards the stairs—the other one came into the room towards me, and said if I called out he would dash my brains out—the prisoner went upstairs, and the other man stayed in the room the whole of the time with us—after a short time the prisoner came down again, and brought a gun to the man in the room, and said "Shoot them, spare no lives"—the prisoner then went up stairs again—he came down soon afterwards and spoke to the other one, and said "Come and help me with this box"—he went out into the passage, and said that if we made any noise they would shoot us through the window—he then locked the door—about, five minutes afterwards someone came to the door and found it locked—and one of Mr. Stedwell's men got through the window—I had locked all the doors and windows when it was dusk, the back door was locked and all the windows closed—after Mr. Stedwell's man had come in, I went upstairs and missed four pairs of earrings, two rings, a locket, and a gold pencil case, belonging to me—the man who I believe to be the prisoner had false whiskers on—and the other had a night cap tied close round his head—they were in the house altogether about three-quarters of an hour—I saw the prisoner again, eight days after, at the police station—he was placed with four others, and I picked him out without difficulty—the entry was effected through a side slide door in the shop, leading into a yard.
Cross-examined. Q. You say one man was disguised by a nightcap? A. Yes, tied close round his face—he had a hat on—I know the other man had false whiskers on, because I could see between them and his face; they were not properly put on, I suppose—he went upstairs almost immediately—we had a light in the parlour; there was no light in the passage—I was very much alarmed on seeing the door fly open, and seeing two strange men—I did not put my hands to my face—I asked them what they wanted—Hurrell put her hands up to her face on seeing the man enter the room—I have not seen him since—no other persons have been shown to me for the purpose of identity—when the prisoner said "Shoot them, spare no lives," it made me more alarmed—he only came down for an instant—he came into the room afterwards—the prisoner had nothing else on his face but the false whiskers—they were not bushy, but rather long—I saw the prisoner before he went upstairs first, when he came down with the gun, and when he asked the other man to help him with the box—I did not see the prisoner till eight days afterwards—my brother came to see me on 26th; I think it was between six and seven—I met him in the street—I know it was about half-past nine the men got into the house, because we had supper at nine, and it was just after supper—I saw the prisoner at the police-station with three or four others—I do not know that any of them were policemen—they were all different sizes—I will not swear that they were not all bigger than him—the policeman did not say anything about it to me—he told me to pick out the man, and I picked out the prisoner—he did not say, "We have got one of the men that broke into the house"—I have not conversed with the policeman at all—I know Peryne, the policeman—I told, him what the man was like—he came on the Friday evening, and told me
I should be wanted the next day—I have not been told by the policeman that I should be rewarded—I heard Mr. Stedwell offer a reward.
MR. STARLING. Q. You say you had a light in the parlour? A. Yes—when he brought the gun he came into the room—I did not see him when he called the other one to help him with the box—the third time I saw him was just before the door was locked—I saw him three times altogether.
MATILDA HURRELL . I am in the service of Mr. Stedwell—on 26th January, I was with the last witness in the back parlour, about half-past nine—the door flew open, and I saw two men—one came into the room, and the other went upstairs—he just Came against the door before he went up—the man who came into the room had an iron bar in his hand, and said, if we said a word he would knock our brains out—a little while after, the man came downstairs, and came into the room with a gun—he said to the man in the room, "Spare no lives, shoot their brains out"—he then went upstairs again—the man in the room called out to the other, to know if he was going to be all night at it—the one upstairs called out, and asked him to come and help him with a box—he did not go—he then came downstairs and came, into the room—before he went away, he said that if we moved, or made any noise, he would shoot us through the window—they then locked us in and went away—the prisoner is the man that went upstairs—he had false whiskers on then—I saw him a fortnight after, at Brentford Police Court—I am sure he is the person—there were seven or eight men, and I picked him out without any difficulty.
Cross-examined. Q. You say that the man who went upstairs did not enter the room. A. No; I did not see him till he came down with the gun—he went up again immediately—I was very much frightened indeed—at the time he came in I covered my face with my hands—the man who came into the room had a night cap on—it was tied under his chin, and he had a hat on—I did not say that the cap was pointed at the top—I could not see the top at all—we remained sitting in the room while the man was upstairs—the other one kept walking up and down the room, threatening us from time to time—I will not swear positively that the prisoner is the man who went upstairs—I did not see the prisoner in custody until a fortnight afterwards—I did not see him till I went into the room at the police station, and then I picked him out—he was not brought through the room where we were sitting—I saw Harris that day in another room—I was not taken through that room before I went to pick him out—there were seven or eight men dressed in light and dark clothes—the prisoner was in the middle of the men, and I went straight to him and picked him out—I did not see him the week previously, at the first hearing—I was there, but I did not see him—the policeman has never said anything to me about a reward, nor to Harris in my presence—when they went away they left the gun outside the dining-room door—the bell had been rung before they went away—the persons outside kept on ringing for about twenty minutes, but we could not let them in.
FREDERICK RATCLIFFE . I am foreman to Mr. Stedwell—on 26th January I went home to his house, about a quarter past ten—I rung the bell and knocked for about ten minutes, but got no answer—I then went into the next house, and got over into the yard—I went into the house by a side door, and found the servants locked in the room—we searched to see where the entrance had been effected—I think they had got over the
garden wall, and into the side door, which was not locked—I did not see any footmarks on that side of the garden, there were a few on the other side of the wall—I went upstairs and found that the plate chest had been moved from the side of the bed into the middle of the room—I went into my own room, and missed two watches, two pins, a gold ring, and 1l. in silver—I had left some of the things in a chest of drawers, and some in a desk—they were locked when I left them—when I saw them again they were all forced open—Mr. Stedwell is a butcher.
JAMES PERYNE (Police Sergeant T 19). On Sunday, 26th January, from information, I went to Mr. Stedwells, about half past ten or a quarter to eleven, and found the place had been broken into—I received a description of two men from the women, in consequence of which, on 3rd February, I apprehended the prisoner—I had been to his house on 28th January, but could not find him—on 3rd February I had ascertained that he was at home, and went upstairs—I told him something had occurred over at Twickenham, and I believed he was concerned in it—previous to that I asked where he was on the 26th January—he said he was at home and in bed by eight o'clock—I said, "I happen to know you were not at home, for something occurred at Twickenham on that night which I believe you were concerned in, and you must go with me to Twickenham"—that was at Queen's Road, Teddington—I took him to the Twickenham police station—that is about two miles—on the 26th some footmarks were shown to me—I took the prisoner's boots off, and compared them with some footmarks in the garden close under the parlour window—I made some marks with the boots, close to the footprints, and they exactly corresponded in length and width—between the time the robbery was committed and my comparing the footmarks, some rain had fallen—I had covered the marks near the window with a box, and it had blown off—when the prisoner was at the station he said, "When I come to think of it I was in Richmond—I did not leave there till twenty minutes past nine on that night"—I asked him how he came home—he said he walked—Richmond is about a mile and a quarter from Mr. Stedwell's.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you ascertain that the prisoner was a hawker of china? A. Yes; I have know that for a long time—hawkers leave home for a day or two sometimes—I took him to the station about half-past eight in the evening—I searched his lodging—he has not been living there for thirteen years—I have been nearly eight years at Twickenham—he lived two and a half years there—I knew him before, when he lived at Hampton—there were footmarks on both sides of the wall—Mr. Stedwell pointed them out in the presence of Ratcliffe and the servant—I will not swear that Ratcliffe was there—there were only two footmarks outside the house, pointing to the window—I know that boots of that sort are made in the country by certain sizes, and sold ready made—the rain had not altered the form of the mark—there were no nails in the boots—they were restored to him—at the station he said, "Coming to think of it, I was in Richmond with my brother-in-law"—he did not say that before he got to the station—he never said anything while I was taking him there.
EMILY WAGSTAFF . I am the wife of Henry Wagstaff, and live at 2, Queen's Road, Upper Teddington—the prisoner lodges at my house—on Sunday, 26th January, the prisoner came home about half-past ten or a quarter to eleven—he went out between five and six—I was in the kitchen
when he came in—he said he had left his sister at Richmond, and had come home by train.
COURT to JAMES PERYNE. Q. How long is the train going from Twickenham to Teddington? A. About five minutes.
Cross-examined. Q. How long has the prisoner lodged with you? A. About three months—I know the time he came in, because there is a clock in the shop—I got up and went and looked at the clock—I wanted to know what the time was, and I went to see—I went to look because I thought it was time my husband came home—I had looked a great many times before—the prisoner had dark clothes on when he came in—he had not got any whiskers then.
CHARLOTTE HARE . I am single, and live at Twickenham Common—I know the prisoner—on Sunday, 26th January, between seven and eight, I saw the prisoner near Twickenham Old Church with a female—that is very near Mr. Stedwell's—I then went as far as Richmond Bridge, and when I came back at about half-past eight or nine, I saw the prisoner standing nearly opposite Mr. Stedwell's with a female and a man—I went home, and saw no more of them.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known the prisoner? A. Between two and three years—I have spoken to him—I did not speak to him that evening—it was dark on that night—there is a gas-light near the Church, and they were standing close by the Church—I do not know who the man was who was with him—they were standing opposite Mr. Stedwell's when I came back—there were persons passing up and down—I have spoken to him in my mother's shop—he has lived three or four doors from us for about three months—I know it was the 26th that I saw him—I cannot give any reason for knowing it was the 26th more than that I saw him on that night—I see him three or four times a day sometimes—the policeman never said anything to me about a reward—I know the prisoner's wife—I did not tell her that Sergeant Peryne had told me I was to have a reward if I came as a witness—I swear that I did not tell her any such thing—I did not tell his wife he was with another woman, or that I had followed him to Richmond Bridge with another woman.
MR. STARLING. Q. When did you first hear of the burglary? A. On the Tuesday—I heard that the prisoner was in custody a week after—I let out by mistake what I had seen, and somebody heard of it and came to me—I was at the first examination before the Magistrate.
COURT to ELIZABETH HARRIS. Q. How was the man who went upstairs dressed. A. In dark clothes.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
MR. BROOKE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN CLARK . I live at 5, Villa Street, Walworth common, and am an omnibus conductor—on Wednesday morning, about one o'clock, I was in Bishopsgate Street—as I was walking along two men came behind me—I was knocked down by a blow at the back of my head—they unbuttoned my coat, and turned my pocket inside out, and took from my left trousers pocket 1l. 2s. 6d., every farthing I had—I shouted out, and a gentleman
and policeman came to my assistance—the men were still there, and I was on the ground—the prisoner is one of the men—I caught hold of him, and he dragged me along a little distance—he cut my knuckles dragging me through the mud—the policeman took him in custody on the spot.
Prisoner. Q. Did I take hold of you? A., Yes; you took my money—there was one sovereign, two shillings, and sixpence in Copper—I was sober—this happened near White Lion Street—I had not got hold of your legs when you were taken in custody—you made no resistance.
EDWARD KING (Policeman H 24). On the morning of 22nd January I was on duty in Shoreditch—I heard a cry, and my attention was drawn to the other side of the road—I saw the prisoner and the prosecutor on the ground, and someone over them—as I came up to the prisoner he dropped some coin on the ground—I asked him why he had dropped it—he said he never dropped any coin—the prosecutor came up with his hands bleeding, and said, "That rascal has robbed me, and taken my money"—I caught hold of the prisoner—he was about fifteen yards from the prosecutor—there was no one in the street—it was pouring with rain.
Prisoner. Q. Which side of the way did this happen? A. On the opposite side from Shoreditch Church—I did not see Mr. Wade till I had hold of you—the prosecutor never said anything about what money he lost till he got to the station.
COURT. Q. What did you find on him? A. four penny piece, sixpence, and 4 ½d. in copper.
CHARLES WADE . I live at 64, Albert Road, Dalston, and am a Parliamentary agent—on 22nd January I was in Shoreditch about one o'clock—I saw Clark knocked down—I saw the prisoner, the prosecutor, and another man all together—he called out, and the prisoner and the other man ran away—I caught hold of the prisoner, and gave him to the constable—there were no other persons about the place—the prisoner dropped several coins, but I could only find 1d.—I am quite sure the prisoner was one of the men—I never lost sight of him.
Prisoner. Q. What part of Shoreditch were you in? A. In the narrow part—I did not cross the road with the constable; he came up afterwards—I was going to take you at the same time—I said to the constable at the station, "If I had known they were robbing the man, I could have caught both of them."
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutor was so drunk that he did not know what he was about. The inspector would not book the charge, until he saw Mr. Wade and asked if he would be a witness. When I was brought up not one of them appeared, and I was remanded for a week. The prosecutor said he was in Bishopsgate Street, it was nearly a quarter of a mile from there. He says that I was taken by the assistance of Wade and the policeman, he does not say I had hold of his legs. I was thirty-five yards ahead of him when I was taken. I believe he was intoxicated, and did not know he had locked me up the next day. I have had five weeks' imprisonment now, and know nothing about' it. I was not in company with anyone, so cannot call any witnesses. The prosecutor said there was nobody else there, there were about thirty persons there when I was taken to the station. He said he had hold of me when I was taken in custody, but the gentleman states I was fifteen yards away.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted at Clerkenwell, in February, 1864, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BENCHEY (Policeman X 11). About half-past five on 15th January, I was in Lancaster Road, and saw the prisoners together—I saw them go into the front garden of Lancaster Lodge, Nothing Hill, which is separated by a high wall from the prosecutor's house—I went and stood inside the gate—after waiting a few minutes, I saw the prisoners come up a passage at the side of the house from the back garden—they then had a bag each—these are the bags (produced)—Hart had something under his arm—I took hold of them, and took them into the hall of Lancaster Lodge—there were some gentlemen outside, and I asked if I might take them there, and they said I might—when I stopped them Hart said, "Do not hold me, you are mistaken, I can show you where I got them from"—he afterwards said he found them lying under a fence—I asked him what he had done with the other bag, he said he had not got one—as I went out to go to the station I found this one (produced) close to where I stopped them—the property has been shown to Emma Thomas, and has been in my custody ever since.
Hart. Q. In what direction were you coming when you first saw me? A. Up the Lancaster Road, towards the railway station—I passed you outside—both of you went in at the garden gate—I went inside the gate and waited about three or four minutes—it was not two minutes—the wall is four feet on one side and six on the other—it is six feet in the garden where the linen was taken from—the gate is about forty yards from the house—when I took hold of Cooper he told me to let go—I took hold of you both together—Cooper dropped his bag, I did not take it away—one of the gentlemen picked it up—I will swear you had something under your arm—you made no attempt to get away—I only asked the gentlemen once before they came to my assistance—you could not have seen me from the garden before you got close to me—I had not looked in the bags—I had you by the collar—an examination took place inside the house, and then I took you to the station—one of the gentlemen went for a policeman—I asked for your bag and you said you had not got one—one of the gentlemen was present at the examination of the bags, and one had gone for a policeman—Canton wanted a cab, and I said if the gentleman would take care of you, I would see whether he would go or not—it was about ten minutes from the time I took you in custody till I took you to the station.
Canton. Q. When did you first see me? A. Walking with Hart—you were going towards the Round House—you said in the hall you had found the bag, and were going to take it to the station—I called on the gentlemen to assist me—I looked in the bags in the hall, and said it was linen—you said, "There is no occasion to hold me, you have made a mistake"—you said you wanted a cab, because you did not want to be dragged through the streets where you had been known for years—you said you found the bags.
MR. WOOD. Q. Did you examine the wall between the two houses? A. Yes: it has some mud on it, as if some one had been over it recently.
EMMA THOMAS . I live at 2, Lancaster Road Villas, Nothing Hill, with my mother, next door to Lancaster Lodge—I have seen the things in the bags, and identify them as belonging to my mother and my sisters—on 15th January they were hanging in the back yard, safe, about half-past four, at half-past five they were gone—I saw some mud on the wall, and foot-steps—the walls are rather high at the back.
Hart. Q. How were the things fastened? A. By pegs; some were tied—There is a mews at the back of Lancaster Lodge, which leads into a back street—there is no glass on the wall—the garden of Lancaster Lodge is very large—you can see the things hanging out from the road—the wall that divides the two gardens is about twelve feet high—there are fruit trees nailed to the wall, it is possible for a man to get from one side to the other.
Hart, in his defence, stated that if they had any felonious intention they would not have gone through the gate but would have gone out into the mews; that the two gentlemen had not come to give evidence; that he never saw that bag at all; that the policeman said he was only three minutes at the gate, when they would have to go the length of the garden, forty yards, get over the wall, unpeg the things, and come back the same way; that he was disgusted at the time, and did not say anything; that if they had got over the wall they would have left footmarks; that they saw some things just inside the gate, and Cooper went in, and the policeman followed almost instantly.
Canton, in his defence, stated that he met Hart, and as they were passing the gate they saw a black thing inside the garden gate, and found it was a bag; he was going to take it to the police-station, but the constable came up and laid hold of him by the collar; that two gentlemen came up, and he asked one of them to go for a constable; that one did so, and was gone a quarter of an hour, but could not find one; that he was taken to the police-station, and was charged with stealing linen, but knew nothing about it.
HART was further charged with having been before convicted, at Clerkenwell, in August, 1867, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Eighteen months . CANTON Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
There were five other indictments against the prisoners.
OLD COURT.—Friday, February 28th, 1868.
MR. SLEIGH and MR. WARNER SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
SUSAN RUSSELL . I am thirteen years old—my mother is dead—I live with my father and his second wife, at Argyle Street, Euston Road—I went into Miss Ratcliffe's service, in the Gray's Inn Road, last August twelve months—they had no other servant—there were three children, the eldest a boy about thirteen, was at boarding school when I first went; the other two lived at home—they were a boy of eleven, and a little girl—the little boy went to school during the day—on the last Sunday I was there about a quarter to two—while I was cleaning the grate in Mrs. Ratcliff's bedroom, she came into the room—I was kneeling, taking up the dust—she was cross because I had not done the silver before that time, and she
kicked me, and hurt me very much—she was behind me when she kicked me—after the kick I continued to feel hurt from it; it has hurt me ever since—Mr. Ratcliff was in the room when this occurred, and he sent me downstairs to go home—he said, "You send the girl downstairs"—he sent the eldest boy home with me—I continued in pain when I got home—I told my step-mother, and she examined me—in the evening I was taken to the police-station, and then to the hospital—I remained there eleven days—I often feel the pain now in the place where she kicked me—when I went into the hospital I had a swelling inside my legs and groin—I had nothing to eat on that Sunday but a piece of dry bread, and that I left—on the Friday before I was in the back drawing-room, and Mrs. Ratcliff boxed my ears—Mr. Ratcliff came up and saw her doing it, and sent me downstairs—after I went down, he went out, and Mrs. Ratcliff came into the kitchen—I was cleaning some spoons—she was going to wash up the tea things, and she took some water out of the kettle, put it in a cup, and threw it over my neck—it blistered my neck and bosom—I found the blisters in the evening, when I went to bed—she did nothing else to me that day—on the next day, Saturday, I was at work in the kitchen—she came in and asked me where the soap was—I told her I did not know—I went out to empty a pail of water, and she came out after me, took the iron bowl from the sink, which I was using, and struck me on the head with it—it made my head bleed—later in the evening, I was cleaning the kitchen, when she came in and beat me with a long stick—she had been cross all day because I did not know where the soap was—she struck me on the arms and back—my arm bled—the stick broke in two across my back, and she put it in a clothes'-basket on the copper—the blood from my arm went on the floor I was cleaning, and she said I was a dirty thing to let the blood drop, and made me wash my arm in the pail—she gave me some cold potatoes and onions for dinner on the Saturday—next morning I was cleaning the knives, about eight o'clock, in the back kitchen, and she took a cane from a hamper, and beat me on the back with it—the arm that had bled the day before she made me scrub, with cold water and a scrubbing-hrush—she stood by while I was doing it—it hurt me very much when I scrubbed it—she told me to go out and scrub my arms in the pail—it was outside that I did it—if I cried, she said she would beat me till I left off—she said, if I did not mind what I was about, I should not be able to walk home—that was when she was getting the dinner ready, before she kicked me—she had been going on at me all the morning for not doing my work properly—she said, if I did not mind, she would keep me another week and serve me the same—on the Friday, when I was standing still, she hit me on the side of the head, and knocked my head against the wall—it hurt me very much, and as she struck me she gave me a knock in the eye, which gave me a black eye.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first go into her service? A. Last August twelvemonths—she then complained of my shabby dress, and gave me three half-crowns to buy a shawl—my mother took the money from me when I went home, and bought me a cloak, but Mrs. Ratcliff would not allow me to wear it—my mother told me I should not want a shawl—Mrs. Ratcliff said it was an old cloak, but my mother brought it fresh from the shop—it did not look like a new one, and that was the reason Mrs. Ratcliff would not allow me to wear it—I do not know what it cost—about four months after that she sent me home because my frock was dirty—Mrs.
Ratcliff came round to know why I had not been there before, and my mother asked her to take me back again—I do not remember when she began to ill-treat me, but a good while ago—I met my sister in the street, and told her about it, and told her to tell my mother how I was treated—this was a good while after I had been sent home because my frock was dirty—she treated me well up till last August, when she beat me and kicked me—I know it began in August, because it was about twelve months after I had been there—I did not tell my mother, because from what Mrs. Ratcliff said I was afraid—when I was sent home about the dirty frock my mother asked her to take me back—I did not tell my mother then, because I had not been sent home altogether, only to show my dirty frock, and I did not tell her then because Mrs. Ratcliff's little boy was with me, and I was afraid he would go back and tell his mother—I told my sister about a month or six weeks after the affair about the frock—Mrs. Ratcliff complained about my being dirty—she asked my mother if she would mind my sleeping at home—that was not because I was dirty, but because her little boy was coming home from school—I believe I slept at home for five weeks—I am not in the habit of falling down stairs—I slipped down two or three stairs once, not all the way down—I hurt myself a little, there were no bruises from the fall—it was a long time ago, before I was sent home about the frock—I fell down on the Saturday before the Sunday I went home—I was going upstairs to hang up a hat, and I slipped over a bit of grease from one stair to another—I did not fall down stairs—I hurt myself a little on my thigh, not on the groin—I had not fallen down on the Friday—I only had two falls, one a long time ago, and one on the Saturday—I know James Coutts—on the Saturday before I left he was cleaning the back shop, about seven o'clock, and I was assisting him—I tried to kneel down, but it hurt me very much—in consequence of the state of my legs I was unable to kneel down, and he asked me the reason—I did not say to him "When I fell down on the stairs with the scuttle of coals yesterday I hurt myself just here (pointing to the groin)"—I never fell down with a scuttle of coals, at all since I have been there—I fell on the Saturday, but not on the Friday—it was through Mrs. Ratcliff kicking me that I could not kneel down—the state of my legs on the Saturday was not in consequence on the fall—that had nothing to do with it—I swear I did not fall on the Friday—I do not know whether Coutts knew that I fell on the Saturday—he asked me what was the matter, and I told him that I slipped—I appeared to be in great pain, and was rubbing my thigh—my father came there on the Saturday—I heard him and Mrs. Ratcliff talking in the kitchen a long time—I did not hear what they said, I was in the back kitchen cleaning—my father is here—on Saturday, 11th, William Ratcliff, the little boy, asked me what made me lame—that was about an hour or two after I had slipped—I did not tell him that I fell down stairs with a scuttle of coals and hurt myself in the groin—I said that I had slipped oa the stairs as I was going up, over some grease—either William or Ernest Ratcliff let my father in when he came on the Saturday—they told me that he had come—I did not say "What will your mother do to keep me out of father's way, he will murder me if he sees me"—I did not say that or anything like it—I was carried into Court to-day, I cannot walk—I did not walk home from the Court last Monday with my mother, we had a cab—I walked to the cab with my mother's assistance—I walked nearly as far as the cab rank, and I walked to the Court in the morning with my father and mother—thev did not carry me, but I was assisted by both of them—I was
not able to walk into Court to-day—it was about two o'clock on the Saturday when she gave me the kick—Mr. Ratcliff sent me home with the eldest boy—I got home about a quarter to three—my father opened the door—he did not strike me on the head—I did not cry—I went upstairs and he spoke to the boy—my father said, "Have you come home?" and I said, "Yes father"—that was all that he said, and I went up stairs—when the boy had gone he came up and asked me how it was I had come home, and I told him that Mr. Ratcliff had sent me—my mother said, "How dirty you are, let me wash you," and I remember my sides were all swollen up where Mrs. Ratcliff had beaten me—my mother, directly she saw me, asked what was the matter, and I told her how I had been ill-treated—I wrote a letter to my father while I was in Mrs. Ratcliff's service—I did not make any complaint in the letter—I do not know how long I had been there when I wrote it.
WILLIAM EDWARD RUSSELL . There was a letter written by the witness while she was in Mr. Ratcliff's service, and received either by me or her mother, about the beginning of November—I cannot tell what has become of it—I did not look for it—I was asked yesterday if I knew anything of it by one of the clerks—I believe it does not exist, we cannot find it.
SUSAN RUSSELL (continued). In the letter I asked my father if he would not be cross with me for what Mr. Ratcliff had told me—I thought she was very cross indeed with me—I asked him not to be cross with me, and I would do better for the future, because I had not been able to do my work to please Mrs. Ratcliff—I did not ask my father to pardon me for acting so badly, but I asked him if he would not be cross with me, and I would try to do my work better in future—he had not been cross with me that I know of—when I went home with the little boy he seemed very cross with me, when she sent me home about my frock—he did not box my ears then, nor at any other time; he does not beat any of us at all—that was the only time I know of that he was cross with me—Mrs. Ratcliff had told me many times that he was going to send me to the workhouse if I left the place—I do not remember any other time that he was cross to me—when I went home with the little boy he said that he would send me to the workhouse, and I should not go home; but he only said that to frighten me—I did not in the letter go on to say that I would behave better for the future, as I had such a kind master and mistress—I said that I would try to do my work as well as I could for the future, better than I had—I did not use the words "For such a kind master and mistress"—I went home on Sunday about a quarter to three—it is two or three streets from Mrs. Ratcliff's to my father's—about twelve months or six months before I went to Mrs. Ratcliff's I lived at Mrs. Day's, in Woburn Place—I was not there as a servant; I only went there to help the servants—I was there more than a year—Celia McDonald was the cook there—Mrs. Day's daughter got me to live with her after her mother died; but the daughter got married after that—her name is Georges—she took a house, and promised to keep me, and find clothes instead of paying me money, but she did not find me any at all—she used to keep me very dirty, and my mother went and complained about it—I could have been clean, but she did not give me enough clothes—I could not be clean with the clothes I had—my mother went and showed all the clothes I went home in, and she said that unless she gave me the clothes she would take her before a court of justice—I was not
in the habit of falling about a good deal—the only falls I have had are the ones I have told you about, the one a long time ago, and the one on the Saturday—I will swear I am not in the habit of falling down stairs—once, when Mrs. Ratcliff was beating me in the shop, I fell down and hurt myself against a glass—I know a man named Kell, who came to do up the house—on Friday evening Mrs. Ratcliff was getting some water to wash up the things—when she took the water out of the kettle she came to where I was standing doing the spoons, and threw it over me—she asked me why I had not done them, and I said I was doing them as fast as I could, and then she threw the water over me—she took the water from the kettle on the hob, poured it in a cup, and threw it over me, and said if I did not mind what I was about my father would be obliged to carry me home—this was about half-past eleven, in the kitchen—she said if I did not mind she would keep me another week and serve me the same, and I should not be able to walk—I went upstairs and did the bed-room stove after that—it was on the Friday that she knocked me in the eye—once when I went to bed in the back shop in the dark, she would not let me have any gas, I knocked my forehead against a box—I hurt my nose as well—I do not remember when it was—it was a good time ago.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. What time was it on the Saturday that you were helping Coutts to clean the back shop? A. About half-past six or seven in the evening—I was in great pain when I tried to kneel, through Mrs. Ratcliff kicking me about all the evening after she had thrown the water over me—it is not true that I told Coutts or William Ratcliff, or anyone else, that I had fallen downstairs with a scuttle of coals—I never fell with a scuttle of coals; I slipped once with a dustpan—I came to the Court to-day in a cab—I walked on Saturday evening, but it hurt me very much—I was assisted by my father and mother—I wrote to my father because Mrs. Ratoliff told me she was going to send me to the workhouse for not doing as she told me, and I wrote to him not to be cross with me, and I would try to do better in future—I did not tell anyone, because I was afraid they would tell Mrs. Ratcliff, and she would hurt me more.
SARAH ANN RUSSELL . I am the wife of William Edward Russell, and live at 27, Argyle Street, Euston Road—I am stepmother to the last witness—on Sunday, 12th January, she was brought to my house by Mrs. Ratcliff's son—in consequence of what she said I took her upstairs, and examined her—her knuckles were very much cut, and had pieces out of them, and were very much swollen—her arms were also cut and very much swollen, her elbows black with bruises, her eye blackened, her nose and forehead swollen—there was a large cut on the side of her head, and her hair was matted together with blood—I undid her dress to wash her, as I thought it would refresh her, when I saw her shoulders were more like liver than flesh, and a piece was cut out—her body and back were all bruisnes; I could not lay half a crown between them—her legs were the same, below the ankle up to the groin—I also found a lump as large as my fist; it was discoloured—her toes were blistered as from a scald, and her neck, from the back to the front, had the appearance of a scald—there were two blisters on her bosom, also from a scald—I gave her something to eat, but she could not help herself; I was obliged to feed her: she could not get her arm to her mouth—I gave her a small portion of bread and butter, and then took her to the police-station, where I saw Inspector Potter, and she was then taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. Q. There were complaints of her being very dirty, were there not? A. No, I never heard of any—Mrs. Ratcliff only told me that she did not do her washing clean, but I did not agree with her for the child to wash—there were no complaints about her being dirty—she was sent home once to show me her dress; she had not washed it, and she said her mistress would not allow her to have a candle, but she would endeavour to do better in future—I did not go to Mrs. Ratcliff, and ask her to take her back again—she was sent home to sleep when she had been there about a month, because Mrs. Ratcliff wanted the bed, and at the end of that time she went back—she never complained of her being dirty, nor did the girl say she was ill-treated—I had not had a chance of seeing her for some time; she lived two streets off—she never complained to me till 12th January—I remember Mrs. Ratcliff giving her three half-crowns to buy a shawl, but I thought a cloak would be more suitable—it cost about 5s.—I will swear it was not 3s.—it was new when I had it—I did not buy it on purpose for the child; it was one that I had by me—I had it altered for her when Mrs. Ratcliff gave her the money for it—it had not seen a good deal of service—I had it altered and re-trimmed—the trimming did not cost 5s.; there was the stuff as well—it was in pledge at the time—I got it out, and that cost 4s., and then it was re-trimmed—Mrs. Ratcliff objected to it because it was a cloak and not a shawl—on the Sunday when the child came home, I was in the second floor front room about twenty minutes to three o'clock—my husband opened the door—he did not hit her on the head, the people in the house would have heard it, for the doors were all open—I never knew her to fall about—she is rather a strong child, not dropsical.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. Was she dirty in her habits? A. I never knew her to be.
THOMAS AMBROSE POTTER (Police Inspector). On 12th January this girl was brought to the station by two females, who led her in—she was very weak and bad, she could not stand, and I directed a constable to assist the women with her to the hospital.
ALFRED LLOYD OWEN . I am house surgeon to the Royal Free Hospital, Gray's Inn Road—on Sunday evening, 12th January, the little girl was brought to the hospital in a most exhausted condition, and apparently suffering very much from pain and weakness—I had her removed to a ward and undressed; I then examined her—her face below her eyes were swollen and bruised, also her nose and her face was very much injured otherwise with small contusions—there was a small incised wound, about an inch in extent, on the right side of the top of her head, which had bled rather profusely some hours previously, and there were stains of blood about her hair and neck—her neck and shoulders were very red and painful, much swollen, and portions of her shoulders were denuded of skin, apparently from blisters—there was a small open wound on the right side of her chest—her wrists, abdomen, and back were covered with small contused wounds, and as her mother says, you could not put a half-crown anywhere without coming on some contusion—her external genital organs were injured, being discoloured, and immediately above them there was considerable tumefaction or swelling, which extended to the groin on the right side, which was also discoloured—her things, legs, and arms were considerably contused and swollen, more particularly her shins and feet—her arms and legs were so much swollen that she presented the appearance of a dropsical patient—she could scarcely move her legs, arms, or thighs—the skin was off her thighs in some places,
no doubt from a scald or burn of some kind, it appeared to be denuded of skin between her thighs—she was an in-patient eleven or twelve days, and subsequently for some time an out-patient, and is not discharged yet—the state she is in now is, I fancy, consequent on the injuries she received then—the wound on her head might be produced by the corner of an iron pot, if used with sufficient force; it was not very serious, it was merely through the scalp—I do not think I remarked any outs on her arms, although she maintains it; there may have been small abrasions, such as we should scarcely take any notice of—the swelling of the external genital parts might be produced by a kick with a boot only, but, of course, it would have to be applied directly to the part—if she was on her knees, and received a violent kick with a boot from behind, that would produce what I saw.
Cross-examined. Q. Might it have been caused by a fall? A. Yes; but there must have been some projecting substance to have fallen against—I hardly think a fall down stairs could have done it, unless anything was on the stain—I did not examine her as to being of a dropsical tendency; but I should fancy certainly not—her flesh was not more tender than that of other girls of her age—one fall might have caused the injuries on her private parts and groin; but they appeared only to have been done a few hours—I examined her on Sunday night, and I fancy it must have been done only a few hours before—it might have been caused by a fall on Saturday evening, certainly—there is nothing in her constitution which would give her a tendency to fall at times, that I am aware of; but I did not examine her as to that—if I heard it proved on indubitable testimony that she was in the habit of falling, there is nothing in her physical condition to which I could attribute it—I can imagine a state of body in some children of her age which would render them liable to fall, but not in her's; for instance, in epilepsy and with spinal disease and disease of the brain, they very often fall about—what other causes I know, I did not examine her with a view to find whether those causes existed, because I was not told—I should also attribute being given to falling, to having been laid up with any diseases of different kinds that would cause bad legs, hip, or joint diseases; or if she had been ill-treated, improperly fed, badly clothed, and so on.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. During the time she was in the hospital, eleven or twelve days, did you observe anything indicative either of spinal disease, epilepsy, disease of the brain, or anything of that kind? A. Nothing whatever—her private parts could not have presented the appearance I saw without violence from some foreign body applied directly to the parts.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Or the parts applied to it? A. Quite so; that is to say considerable violence of some form or other—I should say that what I observed on the groin was not caused by the same violence, they must have been separate.
JAMES WILLINGALE (Policeman Y 43). The warrant was placed in my hands on 21st January, and I made efforts to execute it—the prisoner surrendered herself into custody on 15th February—a reward had been offered for her apprehension before she surrendered.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the reward offered the very day she surrendered? A. The day previous; the papers came out on the Friday, and she surrendered on the Saturday.
Witnesses for the Defence.
and has always treated them kindly as far as I know—I have seen much of the girl Russell, but never saw Mrs. Ratcliff ill treat her in the slightest—on the Saturday before the Sunday on which she was sent home, I was cleaning the back shop about six o'clock—she came up stairs with a pail of water, and Mrs. Ratcliff told her to do the back shop—she walked rather lame—I asked her what was the matter with her—she said, "I fell down yesterday with a scuttle of coals"—I said, "Kneel down, Susan"—she said, "I cannot"—I said, "Why?"—she said, "Because I fell down yesterday—she pointed to her groin—she had another fall on the Saturday, she told me—I said, "Susan, go down and change the water, and bring up a fresh pail—a customer came into the shop, and when she came up I said, "What the devil have you been so long for?"—she said, "I fell over a piece of grease—her father came on that Saturday evening, and I told him she was a very bad girl—I spoke to him and he spoke to me.
MR. RIBTON to SARAH ANN RUSSELL. Q. Have you said to the last witness that your girl had a mistress who was more like a mother than anything else. A. I never had a communication with him, except when he came to our door, when Mrs. Russell sent to say that we were to fetch her.
MR. RIBTON to JAMES COUTTS. Q. Did you have a communication with the girl's mother? A. Yes, she said to me on the Tuesday previous to the girl leaving on Sunday, that she considered the girl had got a mistress who was more like a mother to her—I saw her when I went to the parents to give warning for her to leave—Mrs. Ratcliff had desired me to give her warning.
Cross-examined. Q. Who did you see? A. Mrs. Russell; I told her that Susan was to leave on the following Monday—nobody was with me—I did not sleep in the house; I went in the morning, and came back in the evening—it was my duty to serve in the shop, and to fill up my time in the house, doing little jobs and cleaning the windows—we were very slack, and I was not much in the shop, I was more in the house—I remember coming on Monday, and finding that Susan had gone home on Sunday, and was rather surprised—Mrs. Ratcliff was at home all the week from the Monday morning after the girl went home; all the week up to about Wednesday, because she had been ailing all the week, and on Wednesday she went away, I do not know where to—I saw a policeman come to ask for her—she was then away from the house—I do not know where she was—the first time she was at the police court was, I believe, on Saturday, but I was out at the time—I did not go to the police court on that occasion—the prisoner was there on the remand—I did not go there and give the evidence I have given to-day—I first stated that, last Monday week I believe, at the lawyer's office; Mr. Ratcliff took me there.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You say you were surprised to find she was gone on Sunday, did you inquire the reason she left? A. No, I was told directly by Mr. Ratcliffs eldest son.
WILLIAM RATCLIFF . I am one of the defendant's sons; and shall be eleven years old on 2nd May—I remember the little girl being sent home on Sunday—I observed that she walked lame on the Saturday before, and asked her what was the matter—she said, "I fell down yesterday with the coal scuttle," and put her hand here—I remember her father coming on Saturday—I let him in, and told her that he was there—she said, "What will your mother do to keep me out of father's way, for I know he will
murder me if he sees me"—she did not see him; she said she did not want to, because she knew what a temper he was, and he would murder her—I was at home the whole of Sunday morning in the kitchen where my mother was—she did not go upstairs till after the girl left—my aunts were in the kitchen, and my brother, but not my father.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you in the kitchen the whole morning? A. Yes—I never heard of my mother touching the girl that morning, and never saw her lift a hand to her since she has been there—she could not have done it without my seeing it—Susan was in the bedroom part of the morning, cleaning the fireplace—she went up about eleven o'clock—I did not go to church that morning, nor did my mother, or any of us—I did not see Susan afterwards till she was sent for downstairs by my father to go home, about half-past one, or two o'clock—she appeared quite well, as well as usual; she did not appear to have anything the matter with her—I did not go home with her, my brother did—she appeared very well all day, and on Saturday, except in the morning, when I asked her the question when she was walking lame; but in the evening she seemed to get better—I did not see her on Friday, I was at school, and also on Saturday morning, but during the whole afternoon I saw her over and over again, and she did not appear to be weak or sore—she appeared well and hearty, and nothing the matter with her—I did not see anything the matter with her face or head—I do not remember whether she wore a cap, I think she did not—she appeared to be well and happy, and jolly, only she was rather dull about going home on Monday evening—she was a good-tempered girl—she did not behave herself to my satisfaction; I did not like her because she used to upset mother so—I do not think my mother upset her—I went to Clerkenwell Police Court once, when my mother was there, but was not called in—before that I went with my father and Coutts to Mr. Lewis', the lawyer's, office—no one was present when she told me she fell downstairs with the coal-scuttle; she was on the landing, and I was coming upstairs—I understood that she fell from the top of the kitchen stairs to the bottom.
COURT. Q. What time on Saturday morning did she tell you that? A. About a quarter-past eight; I start for school at half-past.
ERNEST RATCLIFF . I am a brother of the last witness—I took the girl Russell home on the Sunday, between one and two o'clock—my father and mother told me to do so—I was at home with my mother the whole of Sunday morning—she was in the kitchen all the morning, as far as I know—she did not go upstairs all the morning, up to the time I left, but when I left I think she did—when we got home, the girl's father opened the door, and then struck her on the head once with his open hand—it was a violent blow—he said "I have got it in for you upstairs"—she ran upstairs, crying, and I came away.
Gross-examined. Q. Were you in the kitchen all the morning? A. Not all the morning—I was in all parts of the house—my mother never went upstairs while I was in the kitchen—I did not go to the police court.
COURT. Q. Who sent you with the girl? A. My father and mother—my mother had just come upstairs, and my father was just coming downstairs—they both told me to take her home.
EMMA CHAPPLE . I am the prisoner's sister—I was visiting her on Sunday, the 12th—I went there between eleven and twelve—she answered the door to me, and went up into the top bed-room with me—we remained
there ten or fifteen minutes; and then, about twelve o'clock, I went with her into the kitchen, where she was cooking—Mr. Ratcliff was out at church—from that time to the time the girl was sent home my sister was in the kitchen, and I do not think she saw her—Mr. Ratcliff came home and went up to take his hat off—he then came down and said that he had sent her off—the prisoner never left the kitchen from twelve o'clock until the girl left—one of the boys was in the kitchen, and the other was at church, and came in, I think, with his father—I saw them come in together—they were in the kitchen when I saw them—this girl was very dirty and untidy in her habits, and was sent home to sleep in consequence—her mother had promised she would try and improve her, and send her back cleaner—there is no truth in her being sent home because her bed-room was wanted—she remained away five or six weeks—when she came back she was not improved in her habits—I never saw Mrs. Ratcliff treat her badly—I always found her of a kindly disposition, and never knew her treat servants badly.
Cross-examined. Q. When you saw Susan was she as well as usual? A. She appeared in a perfect state of health, the same as I always had seen her—the two boys were in the house at twelve o'clock, and the little girl who is at home, and my sister.
COURT. Q. The two boys? A. Yes; I found them in when I got there, and one went out.
MR. SLEIGH. Q. One of the sons went out after you got there? A. Yes; he just went out for a walk before the door and came in again—that was the eldest—he went to meet his father coming from church, and the father and son came in together—the father was out when I went there.
COURT. Q. How long was the boy out? A. Not more than ten minutes—after we went down to the kitchen my sister did not leave the kitchen till dinner time, not till after the girl was gone—she did not see her off, and had not left the kitchen all that time—Mr. Katcliff came down.
CELIA McDONALD . Fifteen or sixteen months ago I was cook where Susan Russell lived—she was very troublesome—she said one morning at breakfast that she wanted to go home to speak to her father—she was away about a week, and the step-mother came and said she was very ill, and unless her mistress provided better clothes she would expose her in a court of justice—I have known the prisoners many years, and always found them to be very straightforward people—I am in the habit of calling now and then—I always thought she was very kind to the girl—no one ever told me anything different—the girl did not complain, and I have been in the habit of seeing her frequently.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see hor on the Sunday she was sent home? A. No: this is the first time I have seen her since six weeks ago.
MARTHA JOHNSON . I am the wife of Henry Johnson, of 25, Charlotte Street, Euston Road—I have been employed by the prisoner as charwoman eleven or twelve years—I have never seen her ill-treat Russell; on the contrary, she treated her very kindly—the girl was very slow and very dirty—I was there a fortnight or three weeks before she left.
WILLIAM KELL . I am a painter, of North Street, Pentonville—I have known the prisoner about thirty years, and have been in the habit of going to her house—I have always observed her treat servants and children kindly—I never saw her treat this girl unkindly—about three weeks before Christmas I saw the girl tumble down stairs; it was through carelessness; she in a careless girl, and no mistake.
Cross-examined. Q. What stairs did she fall down? A. The kitchen stairs; down a few stairs—I was working there.
MR. RIBTON. Q. How many weeks had you been working there? A. Five weeks all but two days, from seven in the morning until half-past eight at night—Mrs. Ratcliff acted to the girl like a mother—the stairs are sloping—I pretty nearly fell down them through her carelessness.
COURT. Q. Did you see her fall? A. Yes; and she fell and hit her nose against the drawers—I did not see that, but she told me so.
MR. SLEIGH to WILLIAM EDWARD RUSSELL. Q. When the girl was brought to your house on Sunday by the boy, is it true that you struck your daughter, and said "I have got it for you upstairs?" A. No.
MR. RIBTON. Q. You never struck her? A. No; and never was angry with her—she never was afraid of my violence—Coutts works for Mr. Ratcliff, I believe—I went to Mrs. Ratcliff before Susan was sent home—I was ordered to go, and Mrs. Ratcliff said that she was lazy and dirty, but she had never told me that before—she said that she had 12s. coming to her, I did not know what it was, and the girl did not know—she paid it to me—I asked to see the girl that night, and Mrs. Ratcliff said that she was at her work and not fit to be seen—Coutts was present—I did not say that I did not know what to do with her, it was the old story, all she was fit for was the high walls, but when I got her home I would half murder her; Mrs. Ratcliff said she was a very bad girl, and very dirty in her bed, and one thing and another, and it very much upset me, knowing that the girl had been always a good hardworking girl before, up to the time she came home to me one evening—I said that I was very sorry to hear it—she said, "Well I shall not keep her, but you cannot take her away to night; oome round on Monday night—I said, "Of course I will come for her"—I was, of course, out of temper, and I said I was very sorry the girl had turned out as she had, if it was all true—I did not say, "When I get her home I will half murder her," I said, "I shall give her a good beating, I should not care if I was hung for her"—Mrs. Ratcliff did not say, "For God's sake, do not do anything in my house"—Coutts did not say "She is a very bad girl, but she has got a good master and mistress"—I did not say I knew it, and I was quite stunned at the letter she sent to her mother—there was a letter came, but there was nothing in it about her having a kind master and mistress—I did not say to Coutts, "The girl's mother told me she considered she had got a mistress who was more like a mother."
MR. SLEIGH. Q. On hearing Mrs. Ratcliff give the account she did, did it naturally put you out of temper, and make you use strong language? A. Yes.
The Prisoner received a good character.— GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude .
NEW COURT.—Friday, February 28th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
275. JOSEPH WATKINS (19), WILLIAM MUCH (27), and CHARLES BROWN (28) , unlawfully obtaining of Alfred Charles Mills, by false pretences, one sheet, one guernsey, and other articles, and 12s. in money, with intent to defraud.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT defended Much and
ALFRED CHARLES MILLS . I am an outfitter, of 38, King David Street—on 3rd February, about 7 p.m., the prisoners came to my shop—Brown said, "We have come from the Surrey Docks"—Watkins said that he belonged to the ship Annie, which came from the Mediterranean with oil cake, and was lying in the Surrey Docks, and he had been four months on board as able seaman, that he had had one month's advance and three months' pay to take—he asked me to pay Brown and Much 10s., and he would pay me back on Thursday, when he was paid off—5s. was for bringing their clothes, and 5s. for expenses coming across the water—both the other prisoners said that they came from the Surrey Docks—I paid them 5s. and Mrs. Mills paid them 5s.—after that Watkins said that he wanted some clothes, and asked me to let him have some—I gave him a guernsey, a pair of boots, and other things, worth about 2l.—he said he would pay me on Thursday when he was paid off—he went out and said he would come in half an hour—I paid the 10s. to the two men upon the statement that he would pay me back when he was paid off; and I also parted with the clothes on the faith of that statement—he went out, leaving a bag of what one of them said were clothes—when they had gone I found it contained all kinds of rubbish, stones and rags—I afterwards gave Watkins in charge on Wednesday, the 5th—he said he did not know me, and that I had made a mistake in the person.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you take in lodgers? A. Yes—I am in the habit of giving persons commissions for bringing lodgers to my house—I only pay them with the consent of the sailors—I am near the docks, and men come from the ships to my house—there are men hanging about the docks who get persons to lodge in the houses—where they lodge they buy clothes—I give them board and lodging and clothing on credit till they get their wages—I always get paid for what they have—I was examined before the Magistrate—it is correct that Watkins and two other men came to my shop, and Watkins represented himself as a sailor from the ship Annie—they all three came to the house—Much was carrying the bag—it was an ordinary sailor's bag—Watkins suggested that I should pay the men 5s. each—that was not for commission, but for the porterage and expenses of coming across the water, on Watkins' statement that they had carried the bag to my house—I told them to call again for the other 5s., and Much and Brown came back for it in about an hour—Mrs. Mills paid them the money then—I know it was paid—it did not occur to me to look in the bag then—I give men whatever they ask—the sailors are responsible to me for the money.
PETER FREDERICK PIDGEON . I am in the prosecutor's service—on 3rd February Much and Brown brought Watkins there to lodge—they said he had come from the Annie, which was lying in the Surrey Canal Docks—I heard something about 10s.—I think Brown asked for that—Watkins said he had been on the ship four months, and would be paid off on Wednesday or Thursday, and would return the money.
Cross-examined. Q. You say it was Brown asked for the 10s.? A. Yes—Watkins said he should be paid for porterage, and carrying the things across the water—I am a Russian—I do not know that Much is a Dane—I have known him a few years—I saw the bag next morning—I saw it when they brought it into the shop—I think Much was carrying it—I saw the
men come in the afternoon and go away again—I was cleaning the windows when they first came, and I stopped to see what was going on.
HENRY RUMMER . I am inspector of the Surrey Docks—no vessel called the Annie came into the docks on 3rd February—there is no vessel or barge of that name there at all—I should know if there was—I have got books here to refer to.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know a good deal about the docks? A. Yes—there are men about who take persons to lodging-houses; they are called crimps.
Watkins to A. C MILLS. Q. Was it not 5s. you paid the men for me? A. No; 10s.—there were no clothes in the bag, only rubbish and rags—you asked me for the clothes—I did not say the clothes you had on were too bad, and I would give you some more—you said you wanted to go out for a walk, and asked me to let you have some clothes to go with in the evening.
HERBERT BUTT (Police Sergeant K 62). On 6th February I apprehended Much and Brown—I told them they were charged with being concerned with a man named Watkins, in obtaining money and clothes by false pretences—they said they knew nothing about it, and that would not be enough to keep them there.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you say they were concerned with Watkins? A. With a man named Watkins—they said they did not know who he was.
WATKINS— GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment .
BROWN and MUCH received good characters— NOT GUILTY .(See page 337.)
OLD COURT.—Saturday, February 29th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DALEY the Defence.
DENNIS FARRON . I am an usher at the Westminster County Court—I produce a certified copy of the book of the Court, under the seal of the Court. (Read: "Collins v. Cohen. Claim for Commission, 6l. Judgment given for the Defendant on 22nd January")—I was present when that plaint was heard—the plaintiff and defendant were both sworn by the registrar of the Court—I gave the book into the defendant's hand.
WILLIAM COLLINS . I am a boot maker, of 22, Church Street, Soho—I entered the prisoner's service as foot traveler in the beginning of 1867, and left on 13th July—the arrangement was that I should solicit orders for him, have 15s. a week, and 2 ½ per cent, on all orders from my customers, to be paid when the orders were executed and paid for, without reference to whom they were paid—he distinctly told me that I was to receive no monies, except by special command—I did receive a special command to receive money, and I received money in consequence six or ten times—sometimes I have been with the prisoner, and have receipted bills for him, he not being able to write—I was dismissed at a week's notice, 6l. odd
being due to me—I asked him to give me a list of the outstanding accounts, to calculate my commission—he said that he could not give it to me then, but if I came on Monday he would have it ready—I applied on the Monday; it was not ready, and he asked me to call in a few days—I called again in a few days; he came to the door in a blustering way—I said I had called for the list—he said, "I shan't give it to you"—I said, "If you will not, I shall have to go round to all the customers and ask them for a copy of their bills, and then I shall apply to you every week until my commission is due"—I did so, and then served him with a written notice, which he has got—he refused payment, and I took out a summons in the County Court—I never had a horse and trap to go about with, but I have fetched it from the stable on the other side of the way—the summons was heard on 15th January; the defendant was sworn, and stated that my arrangement was 15s. a week and 2 ½ per cent, on all monies that I received, and not on orders, as he had never paid me on orders; that I had never made any application to him for money, and he did not know that he owed me any, and was very much surprised when he received the summons, as he did not know what it was for.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to tell the Jury that your commission was payable on all monies you received? A. Yes—I was to receive no money except by special command—when I left, I settled accounts with him up to what money had then been collected in—at the time I left, the 6l. I sued for was not due—I was to be paid when the money was paid—that is not what he swore; he swore that my engagement was nothing on orders—if he had sworn that my commission would be payable when he was paid, that would have been true; but he swore that I was to be paid when he was paid upon what I received myself, although I was to receive nothing—he sometimes made me wait six weeks when I had taken the orders—when he was paid, I was always paid, at the end of the week—I did not cancel all the orders in the book when I left—the Judge did not say that my having cancelled the orders put an end to the matter, or anything about that—he said that as the defendant had sworn it, and was supported by his wife and his father, he must give judgment for him—they were examined on the trial as to the agreement—I do not know George Peter, but he is a clicker to the prisoner—he did not see me canceling the orders in the book—I did not cancel any, and did not tell him that I had—I am certain the prisoner swore that he did not know he owed me anything, and that I never applied for commission on the orders I obtained—he swore that he discharged me because, while using his horse and trap, I took the best orders for myself, and left the bad ones to him—the trap was not supplied to me, I was only out in it when with the prisoner.
MR. DOUGLAS. Q. At the time you sued for the 6l., was it due? A. Yes, past due; the customers told me that the money had been paid, and showed me their receipts—I had no right to cancel orders.
JOSEPH NUNN . I live at 28, Tottenham Place, Tottenham Court Road—on 15th January, I was at the Westminster County Court, and attended to some part of what was going on—I heard the prisoner say that he paid Mr. Collins 15s. a week, and so much commission on monies brought in by Collins—I am quite sure it was on monies brought in by Collins—I do not know the parties—I never saw Collins, but once before, till I saw him at the County Court.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you passing an idle hour at the County Court?
A. I was passing, and seeing people standing there, went in to pass half an hour away—after I got in I had no idea of anything till Collins came to me—I had seen him once before in Mr. Baker's shop; when I went out he said "How do you do?" and I went with him and Hewitt and had a pot of ale—Collins said that the verdict was an infernal shame—he came to me on the Monday and said "I shall require you as a witness;" I said "I do not know much about it."
THE COURT enquired whether there was any further evidence as to the agreement—MR. DOUGLAS stated that there was not—THE COURT considered the indictment could not be supported, there being only one oath against another, and directed a verdict of
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Saturday, February 29, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
PETER HENRY BARQUEST . I am a boarding-house keeper, of 3, Neptune Street—on Saturday 1st February, Much came to me between one and two o'clock and told me that Brown was coming with two sailors from the Commercial Docks, who had been seven weeks on board the Ann of Cardiff, and that they wanted board and lodging—he asked me if I would advance the money and take them in to board—lie said that the expenses would be 7s. each, as they had a cab—Brown brought two men in about half an hour, dressed in sailors' clothes—there were two bags outside the cab—they got out of the cab and came into my house—Brown said he had brought two sailors from the Commercial Docks, and asked me if I would advance them the money for their expenses, and then he wanted 3s. each for their trouble—I gave the money to Brown—I asked them whether they intended to pay me when they were paid off, and they said "Yes"—in consequence of what they told me, I paid Brown 1l.—one of the sailors went away the same evening, the other one stopped till 4th February, when he went away—he owed me for board and lodging—I have never been paid—they left the bags in the house, and I found they only contained rubbish—Watkins was not one of te men.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you a Swede? A. Yes; I have been in London five or six years—I live close to the London Docks—I was examined before the Magistrate—it is not correct that the two prisoners came together and brought the men—I have not been long in the house—I went to sea before—there are a great many men of this sort about the docks.
JOHN ALDRIDGE . I live at. 42, St. George's Street, and keep a refreshment and boarding-house—on 1st February, about half-past three, I saw the prisoners and another man—they asked if I could find room for a boarder—I said, "Yes"—they said he was a sailor from a schooner in the Surrey Docks—they went away, and came back with Watkins and a bag of clothes—they said the clothes were brought for security, because he had no money—I asked Watkins what he had offered to give them—he said 7s. 6d.—he told me to pay them because he had not got any money till he got a
ship again—Watkins stopped till Wednesday, and then went away—he did not Bay he was going—I saw him next at the police-court—there was some money due to me when he left—I have not been paid.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you to be paid this money when he got a ship? A. Yes; I did not know when that was likely to be—I never was at the Surrey Docks; I do not know how far they are from my place.
HENRY RUMMER . I am inspector of the Surrey Commercial Docks—on 1st February, there was no schooner called the Anne in the docks, nor any barge of that name—the Surrey and the Commercial Docks are all one.
Cross-examined. Q. Are there no Surrey Docks apart from the Commercial Docks? A. No; they are one company—the Surrey Canal runs into the Docks—I am able to say that there was no schooner of that name in the Docks.
HERBERT BRETT (Policeman K 62). I took the prisoners on 6th February—I told them I wanted them for being concerned with Watkins in obtaining money by false pretences—they said they did not know Watkins.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment each .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.
HENRY CUMMINS (Policeman K 347). On 31st January, about half-past seven in the evening, I was on duty in the Barking Road, and saw the prisoner with some lead pipe under his arm—I asked him what he had got—he said "Nothing "—I said "You have got some lead pipe, where did you get it from?"—without making any answer he dropped it, and tripped me up—I got up as soon as I could, and saw him throw something over a fence—he made great resistance, and I had to use my truncheon to keep him from escaping again—this (produced) is the lead, and I found this ball-cock over the fence—at the station he said he had had it three months.
Cross-examined. Q. Are the pipes in different lengths? A. Yes: one piece is larger in diameter than the others.
SIMON RALPH (Police-Sergeant K 32). On 31st January, about half-past seven, I was in the Barking Road—I saw the prisoner come through the Iron Bridge gate over the river Lea—he had a coat under his right arm—I watched him, and saw him shift the coat from his right arm to the left—I told the constable to go after him—I went to the place, and found this ball-cock over the fence—at the station he said he had had it two months—the pipes had some water in them then—it was quite new pipe—the ball was wet from recent use—from information I received I went to 5, Swanscomb Street, Plaistow, on the following Wednesday—a man named Alfred Brown, living next door, went with me—there was a notch in one of the pieces of pipe that was left there, which corresponds with one of the pieces produced—I measured from the ground to the cistern, it is about seven feet six—there was a hold-fast in the wall, near the ground—the pipe could not be pulled through, and it had been broken off by mistake—the pipe produced exactly corresponds in measurement to the pieces gone from the house.
COURT Q. How far was the prisoner from this house when you saw him? A. About a quarter of a mile.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the house unoccupied? A. Yes: there is no other house unoccupied near there—I have not been into any of the other houses.
WILLIAM GALE . I live at 3, Grove Terrace, Grove Road, Plaistow, and am the owner of 5, Swanscomb Street, Barking Road, where the pipe was stolen—I have no doubt that this is my pipe—the prisoner lodged in the house some time ago—the pipes were all broken and taken away.
Witness for the Defence:—
THOMAS DICKSON . I am a lead and glass merchant—I have known the prisoner thirteen or fourteen years—I have always known him as an honest man—it is impossible to identify lead pipe of this sort, even if there were notches in it.
COURT. Q. Suppose you found a piece of pipe gone from a water-closet, and yon had a piece that exactly filled up that space, and you found that the piece was eight feet all but an inch, and the piece missing was eight feet all but an inch, what should you think? A. I should think that would be some criterion to go by.
The prisoner received a good character.— GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury — Six Months' Imprisonment .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIDTON the Defence.
PETER BIDGOOD (Policeman K 41). I took the prisoner on 23rd January, and said that I took him on a charge of bigamy—he said that he thought he had a right to marry a second wife, as his first wife had committed adultery—I produce a certificate which I have compared with one at Hoxton Church—it is correct—I did the same with another certificate at St. Pancras—(Read: "Church of St. John the Baptist Hoxton—George Fisher and Hannah Burton, married 11th May, 1844.")—I looked at the book in the clerk's presence, and laid the certificate on it—I saw Hannah Fisher, in the prisoner's presence, at the station—3he said that she was married to him in August, 1844, at Hoxton—he said, "You know I have caught you behind the door"—she said, "You know it is false"—I knew both him and her—the second certificate was of the marriage of George Fisher and Hannah Jane Robinson, at St. Pancras Church, November 10th, 1867.
HANNAH JANE ROBINSON . I live at 9, Coram Street, Russell Square—I have known the prisoner many years—in September, 1867, he came there, and wanted me to live with him as his wife—I knew that it was very wicked, and knew that his wife was living, so I persuaded him to marry, and he did—I have lived with him ever since, and he has been a very good husband to me.— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
SAMUEL HALEPENNY . I live at 216, Pentonville Hill, and am a photographer—on 13th February, between eight and nine p.m., I was employed temporarily at Waterloo House, Woolwich—it is a sale room—the prisoner came in and out of the room several times; and when the room was cleared he came up to me, and asked me what made me appear against him at Marlborough police-court—I did not answer him until I saw he was getting very excited; and then I said, "I do not want to have anything to say to you whatever, as I know you are a very dangerous character"—he said, "You have committed perjury," and I said, "Well, you go and prove it"—I was in the act of going out at the door sideways, when I received a stab on my left temple, very near my eye—I saw a knife in his hand; and, to the best of my belief, I heard it fall—I was immediately smothered in blood, and became very faint—I called out "Police," and two officers were on the spot immediately—directly after the stab, I received a fearful blow on my eye; but whether from his foot or his fist I cannot say, as I was blinded with blood—I pointed the prisoner out to the police, they took him in custody, and I was taken to a doctor.
Cross-examined. Q. What was your employment at this time? A. I was employed by Mr. Sydney Smith at this place only for a few days, to take stock of the things that were sold—I know a man named Jennings; perhaps I have been in his employment ten, eleven, or twelve months, at various times—he carried on a mock auction—Smith also keeps a mock auction—I am not aware that the prisoner has been employed several months in putting down mock auctions—I was a witness against the prisoner at Marlborough Street, about three months before this—there were three or four other persons in the room at the time this occurred—they were strangers to me—directly the blow was struck they ran away—they were standing behind a curtain, at the extreme end of the shop—probably they did not see it—their names are Smith and James Madigan—I am not aware that Martin or Kelly were there—Levine was not in Jennings' employment when I was there—he is a mock auctioneer—I cannot say whether he was present when this took place—I believe none of the persons present saw the transaction—I have not seen them since—I have been past the shop twice since, and found it shut up—I was not acting as crabb at this mock auction, I do not know what you mean; it is some kind of shell fish—I did not tell customers who came in that had not got any money, to buy—the prisoner did not say to the people, "Be careful, this is a mock auction," but something different to that—he asked the proprietor if any customers came in, whether he would give him a commission, and he said he would, and afterwards a gentleman named Bates came in—I believe he is a major, living on Woolwich Common, and the prisoner persuaded him to purchase goods to the amount of 35l.—I swear that—I believe he has been annoying and threatening Mr. Jennings, and that was the reason of my having to appear against him—I
did not rush at him—he stabbed me with a carving knife—no one rushed at him—I had not the knife in my hand—the knives were at the extreme end of the shop—I was not present at an application to postpone this trial, in order to get other witnesses.
WILLOUGHBY MAY . I am a surgeon, of Denmark Villas, Woolwich—Halfpenny was brought to me about twenty minutes past nine on Thursday, 13th, bleeding profusely from a punctured wound on his left temple, close to the eye—he was in a fainting state, and it was some time before he could be brought round—the wound was half an inch long, and extended to the bone—it corresponded with a knife of this kind (produced)—next day I noticed a very extensive bruise round his eye, as if a Wow had also been given.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the blow inflicted with the point or blade of the knife? A. With the point, I should imagine—it had been given with great violence.
JAMES MARGETSON (Policeman R 122). On 13th February, I was on duty in High Street, Woolwich—I heard cries of "Murder," and "Police," coming from Waterloo House—I went to the door, and saw the prosecutor with his face covered with blood—the prisoner was standing at the further end of the shop—the prosecutor pointed him out—the prosecutor charged him, and I took him in custody—he said, "Don't handle me, I will go quietly"—while I was searching him, this knife was handed to me by someone in the shop—at the station, the prisoner said he did not stop the man, but that he struck him with his knuckles—there was blood on the knife, just as it is now.
GUILTY* of Unlawfully Wounding. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
GEOREGE SAMUEL COX . I am a bootmaker, at 3, Eyre Street, Woolwich,:—the prisoner has been my errand-boy since last October—I gave him notice to leave on 1st February—on the 8th, I gave him this cheque for 10l. (produced), on the London and County Bank, Woolwich—it was not for 10l. 10s.—the 10s. in the the shilling column is not my writing—I sent him to the bank about one o'clock—after he had brought back the 10l., I sent him to a public-house for a pint of ale, and in the mean time I received a message from the bank—I gave information to the police—he was not taken till the 16th.
WILLIAM HENRY BRAMTON . I am cashier at the London and County Bank, Woolwich branch—this cheque was brought to the bank, on 8th February, between twelve and one, by the prisoner—I gave him ten sovereigns and a half-sovereign—about half an hour afterwards, we found the cheque had been altered in a different waiting—I communicated with MR. COX
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth and the carelessness of his master in trusting him with the cheque. — One Months' Imprisonment, and Three Years in a Reformatory .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. LEWIS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH PICKERING . I keep the Swan beershop at Lewisham—on 7th February, between five and six the prisoner came in for a glass of cooper, which came to 1d.—he threw a half-crown on the counter—I told him it was bad—he said he never had such a thing in his life before, and held his head down—he gave me a good florin—I laid the two on the counter to compare them—he snatched up the florin and said, "If you will not take for the glass of cooper I am off, and ran away, having drank the beer—I gave the half-crown to my husband.
Prisoner. I never was up that way. Witness. I am sure you are the person—I saw you the following Tuesday.
THOMAS PICKERING . I saw the prisoner run out, and ran after him, but being dark I lost sight of him—my wife gave me a bad half-crown, which I gave to 58 R on 11th February, on which day I saw the prisoner coming out of Mrs. Glover's shop—she fetched me to help her—I ran after him, caught him, and said, "I have been looking for you for the last two or three days."
Prisoner. When I found you were running after me I stopped. Witness. You ran into a place where there was no outlet.
ELIZABETH GLOVER , the younger. I live with my mother, who keeps a general provision shop—on 7th February, between six and seven o'clock, I served the prisoner with half an ounce of tobacco, which came to 1 ½d.—he gave me a florin, which I put in the till, where there was no other florin, and gave him the change—half an hour afterwards I saw my mother serving him with some sweets—he gave her a florin, she gave him his change, and he left—Mrs. Pickering's little girl came into the shop, and from what she said my mother looked at the florin and saw that it was bad, and I looked at the one I had taken, and that was bad too—on 11th February the prisoner came again for half an ounce of tobacco—I said that I would serve him directly—he said that he must make haste, and then ran away without the tobacco. Mr. Pickering presently brought him into the shop, and my mother said, "You gave this bad 2s. piece to my daughter, and this one to me"—he said, "No," he had witnesses to prove that he was in Oxford at the time—I am sure he is the man.
Prisoner. If I had been allowed to send a letter I could have had witnesses here.
ELIZABETH GLOVER . I am the mother of last witness—on 7th February the prisoner bought some peppermint, and paid me with a bad florin—I also looked at another florin which was bad—I wrapped them both in paper, put them in a drawer, with a bad shilling, and gave them to 58 R—I am sure the prisoner is the person, he had been in the shop several times before.
CORNELIUS GREENEY (Policeman R 58). On 11th February I was called to Mrs. Glover's—she gave the prisoner in my custody with this florin (produced)—I told him the charge—he said, "That has got to be proved"—I also received a bad half-crown from Pickering, who said in the prisoner's hearing
that he had given it to his wife—he made no reply—I found on him four shillings and four sxipences, good.
GUILTY .—He was farther charged with having been convicted of a like offence at this Court in January, 1867.
MR. FLOOD conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HOBSON . I keep the Marquis of Granby, New Cross—on Saturday night, 15th January, between 11 and 12 o'clock, the prisoner was there, and was noisy and riotous—I ordered him to leave my house, but he would not—he was sober—I sent for the police, who ejected him—I was shutting up the house, about a quarter to twelve, and saw him stoop at the gutter, pick up a stone, and deliberately throw it at the window—it broke the plate glass, which was large and embossed, and was worth 7l., but the embossing and taking away the gas cost 9l.
Prisoner.—You were in the bar. Witness.—No; I was outside and saw you throw it.
JOHN WEEKS (Policeman AR 432).—On Saturday night, 15th January I was called to the Marquis of Granby—the landlord complained that a number of men were creating a disturbance, annoying his customers, and using filthy language—I ejected them, with the assistance of two other constables.
Prisoner's Defence.—I am innocent of throwing the stone, I was by the door the whole time.— GUILTY .— Four Months' Imprisonment .
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
ANN HOPGOOD .—I am the wife of Thomas Hopgood, a brickmaker, of Plumstead Common—on 23rd January, I hung out a quantity of clothes to dry in a plantation, and Mrs. Durley put out some things at the same time—I saw them safe at 10 at night, and missed them next morning—these stockings (produced) are mine—these other articles belong to Mrs. Durley to my knowledge.
HENRY ROLLINGSON (Policeman R 138). On 24th January, about two o'clock in the morning, I was on duty on Plumstead Common, and saw the prisoner and a boy coming out of some enclosed premises, a plantation at the back of Mr. Hopwood's—they got over a gate into the road—it was very dark, and the prisoner passed about two yards from me—I turned my light on her and she dropped a bundle—I detained her, and showed the articles to Mrs. Hopwood—the boy has been discharged.
The prisoner's statement before the Magistrate:— "I never saw the bundle."
GUILTY .**— Four Months' Imprisonment .
Before Mr. Baron Bramwell.
281. MAURICE LYTTLETON (28), FLORENCE McCARTHY (35), and JAMES RICHARDSON (23) , Feloniously administering a certain oath to Daniel O'Leary, purporting to bind him to commit High Treason.OTHER COUNTS varying the manner of laying the charge.
MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS.
WILLES and R. J. SHEE the Defence.
JAMES BOUTALL . I am living at Deptford—I am a native of St. Neot's, in Huntingdonshire, my father is living there now—two or three years back, I went to the United States, and returned to this country five or six months since—since then I have been living principally with my father—he is a tailor—I have known Lyttleton from 10th January last—on that day I was standing near the White Swan, High Street, Deptford, and saw Littleton walking about—I addressed him, saying it was very damp under foot—I told him I should soon be in another country but my own—he asked where that was—I said "America, where it would be frosty"—he said, "Have you been in America?"—I said, "Yes"—he told me he had been there, and asked how the Fenians were getting along there—I said I did not think of Fenians—he asked me if I was a Fenian—I told him I should not satisfy him, as I did not know who I was talking to—he said, "That is right; if you are careful you would keep your mouth shut"—he asked me whether I would see him again—I told him I did not think I should see him again, as I was going over to America—he told me he should like to see me, and I met him again on the Monday evening—I was in Deptford, waiting for my ship—I had shipped to go over to America the very next week, and I told him so—I saw him on the Monday, but nothing of importance took place—on Saturday, 18th January, about half-past six in the evening, I saw him at the King William, Wellington Street, Deptford, with a man named Daniel O'Leary—when I went in O'Leary said, "Is this your Yankee friend," and asked me whether I was a Fenian—I told him I should not satisfy him; Lyttleton was present—O'Leary told me that he was a head centre, and that Maurice Lyttleton was a corporal under him—he asked me if I would take the Fenian oath—I told him I did not know what it was, I should like to hear it—there was a little bit of disturbance in the house, and we left and went to the King's Head, in Church Street—we had a little to drink there, and Lyttleton and O'Leary asked me if I would take the Fenian oath—I said, "No; I should like to hear it first"—O'Leary asked me if I would go home to supper with him—I said " No; I must go home, it is getting late"—he said, "If you go home with me to supper I will show you six or seven revolvers which I have a patent for"—I did not go—he asked me to meet him on the Sunday, at one o'clock, at the King's Head, Church Street—I said I would—when I went there, I found Lyttleton, McCarthy, Richardson, O'Leary, and Me Carthy's brother in the tap-room—they were all standing together when I went in—I did
not go till half-past one—I did not know McCarthy or Richardson before—they were strangers to me—in the presence of all of them, O'Leary asked me if I would take the Fenian oath—I told him I should like to hear it—we had a little to drink, and I told him I should have to be getting home—he said, "Oh, you must not go home, we will go round to the King William, in Wellington Street"—we went there—there was a little bit of disturbance there, as regards my being a detective—Lyttleton said there was a sneak in the room—he asked me if I would take the Fenian oath—I said, "I did not know what it was, I should like to hear it"—he asked whether we could go into a private room—I told him I did not mind—he said, "You ask the landlord for the key"—I asked the landlord if he would let me have the key of the parlour—he came with the key, and we all went into the room—McCarthy, his brother, Richardson, O'Leary, and myself all went into the room with Lyttleton—we had a conversation about Fenianism, and then he asked me if I would take the oath—I said I should like to hear it—and Lyttleton repeated the oath to O'Leary—before this, they asked me if I was a detective, and I said, "No; I will swear by my God that I am not a detective"—Lyttleton took a book out of his pocket and placed it on the table, and wrote something in it—it was this book (produced) or one like it—he read what he wrote in the book—Lyttleton repeated the oath to O'Leary, and he took a small Testament out of his pocket and kissed it—the oath was "You shall foreswear all allegiance to the Sovereign of Great Britain, and take up arms against the British Government, and overthrow them, to protect the rights of Ireland, So help you God"—after that O'Leary kissed the book—he then told me to take hold of the book, which I did whilst he repeated the words to me—I told him I did not exactly understand what he said—he asked me if I was a d—fool—I refused to kiss the book—McCarthy tapped me on the shoulder and said don't be a d—traitor—I still refused to kiss the book, and he said I was a b—traitor—during the whole of this time Richardson, McCarthy, his brother, Lyttleton, O'Leary, and myself were in the room—I am positive of that—about three o'clock the landlord or potman came to the door and said, "You must be getting out here, it is getting on for three o'clock—at that time the door was locked—I did not lock it—I unlocked it—I don't know who opened it—we all went out one after the other—I don't know who came out last—when I went out I went into the passage—we all went out the back way, and O'Leary turned round and gave me in charge to Richardson and McCarthy—I asked them what the charge was—they said, Fenianism"—I said, "Very well, I will go" and they took me to the police station—McCarthy was on one side of me, and Richardson on the other—O'Leary came besides—Lyttleton did not—when they took me to the station they made a charge of being concerned in Fenianism against me—I told them who I was, as I had made a report previously about Lyttleton to one of the inspectors—I think his name is Hibbs, the inspector at Deptford—I do not think there was anyone present when I reported it to him—they charged me with "Fenianism—I told them I had got a cousin a detective, named Ling, who they knew very well; I was no Fenian—I gave Richardson, McCarthy, and O'Leary, my address—at that time I was staying with my cousin, Ling—he is a detective and an officer at Deptford—I was then discharged—in the course of the evening I went to the same public-house, the King William, about five o'clock, by myself—I was talking to the landlord, and telling him about it, when O'Leary, Richardson, and Lyttleton came
in together—O'Leary called me a b—traitor, and up with his first and attempted to strike me in the mouth—I knocked his blow off—Lyttleton attempted to strike me, and I knocked his blow off—I said to Richardson, "Are you a special constable?"—he said, "Yes" and pulled off his coat and helped to defend me—the landlord came out, and put Lyttleton out—I went out at the back door—the landlord helped to defend me—I did not wait to see whether they were put out or not—I went away—I then went to the station—I first made a report there either on the Wednesday or Thursday—the second report was on the Sunday—this Testament (produced) is the one that O'Leary took from his pocket—McCarthy's brother was called as a witness for the defence before the Magistrate—I reported at the police station before I said anything to my cousin—I spoke to him about Lyttleton—I told him I thought there was a Fenian in the town—I pointed Lyttleton out to my cousin in High Street.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you come to Deptford first to stay with your cousin? A. On 31st December I left St Neot's to come to town, as I was going off to America—I did not know while I was staying at Deptford that there was a warrant out for me—I heard that there was—it was for fighting, for an assault committed on 27th December, at St Neot's—I have been found guilty of that and fined 1l. and 6d. and 1l. 2s. expenses and in default a month's imprisonment—I came to London on 30th December, stopped in London all that night, and went to Deptford on 31st—I have stayed with my cousin Ling, the detective, from then up to the present time—occasionally I have been staying up in London—I was staying with Ling nearly every day till I saw Lyttleton on the 10th—Ling is dressed in plain clothes—I did not ask him why he was wearing plain clothes—he did not tell me anything of his police duties—he never mentioned to me that he was watching Lyttleton—that I swear—I never heard him say so—I don't know that he has said so—I was up and down the streets of Deptford from 31st December until 10th January—he did not tell me what his business was—I knew he was a policeman, I did not want to ask him—I saw the regular policeman on duty in the streets—I went into the King William public-house once with Ling—I might have gone in twice.—I waa not in there every day—I generally used to go in there to have a glass of ale with the landlord—Ling was not with me when I first saw Lyttleton—I had not seen Lyttleton before 10th January—he had never been pointed out to me by Ling—it was in the afternoon I first saw him—I am still staying at Ling's—I had not seen Ling since the morning, the day I met Lyttleton—I left him about three or four hours, I should say—Ling and I were not together in the White Swan when I first commenced the conversation with Lyttleton—we never had any conversation about Lyttleton—I was not in the White Swan when I first spoke to Lyttleton—I was opposite the White Swan, on the pavement just in front of the house—I do not think I had been in, I can't swear whether I had or had not—I had not seen Lyttleton in the White Swan that day, to my recollection—I was not there when I commenced the conversation with Lyttleton, I swear that, not to my recollection—I returned home to Ling's house after the first conversation with Lyttleton—I said nothing to him about having seen Lyttleton—I did not tell Lyttleton I was an American—I said I was an Englishman or English American, that is what I am—I am naturalized there—I have taken out my papers there, and I intend to
make that my country, because I went there for a livelihood—I did not speak to Lyttleton about James Stephens the morning of the first conversation, nor on the second—I never said that I had seen James Stephens in America, or that I had given fifty dollars subscription to the Fenian cause in America, or that I had attended a monster meeting at which General Grant was present—I did not say that I was in favour of Fenianism, and that I was ready to take up arms against the English Governments—no such conversation ever took place between us—I produced a piece of glass, at one of the meetings, that came from the prison cell at Clerkenwell—I showed that to Lyttleton, and told him I was going to take it to America to show for a curiosity—I did not say I should show it to my Fenian friends, to remind them of the noble act; I never used such words—I think the third meeting was on the Wednesday or Thursday—on the Saturday evening I saw Lyttleton at the King William, in Wellington Street—some people came there, and called me a detective—of course, I was very angry at that—I had reported Lyttleton at the police-station on the Wednesday or Thursday previous—I was angry at being called a detective, because I expected to get a good hiding—they put themselves out of the way a good deal, and the landlord came out to put the men out of the house—I did not say I was ready to take an oath to show I was not a detective, but a Fenian—I said I was not a detective, and I appealed to the landlord whether I was—I am no detective—it was O'Leary and Lyttleton who invited me to meet them at the King's Head on the Sunday, not me that invited them—I am certain that I saw McCarthy at the King's Head at one o'clock on the Sunday—I had not seen him previous to that—I am quite certain that he and his brother were there when I went in—I talked, about going home there, but I went to the King William with their persuasion—I did not get to the King's Head before half-past one—I stayed at the King William till half-past three—when they got me to the station it was close on half-past three—I did not stay for nearly an hour in front of the bar at the King William—I should say we got there about two, and it was about a quarter to three when we went into the room; somewhere about that time—we stayed at the bar about three-quarters of an hour—whilst I was at the bar, Lyttleton again said that I was a detective—I got the key from the landlord—I did not invite Lyttleton and O'Leary into the room, it was they invited me, and told me to ask for the key—there was some beer purchased in front of the bar; I paid for it—I do not recollect whether I had half a pint of gin—I was not treating the people there, no more than I was spending a shilling standing a pot of beer—I don't believe I stood half a pint of gin—I cannot swear about it—I was not treating other Irishmen besides the prisoners—Lyttleton, McCarthy, Richardson, I, and O'Leary, all went into the room one after the other, in driblets—we were all together in the room—I took off my coat—I did not swing my arm round, or hold out my arm, and say, "Let my arm be paralyzed if I am a detective"—I never said such words—I swore I was not a detective, by my God—I am certain that is the book on which they proposed to swear me—I looked inside it when I had it in my hand—when he asked me if I was a d—fool, I opened the book and looked at it—(Looking at another book handed to the witness) that is not the book; I will swear that—I am certain McCarthy remained in the room whilst the oath was repeated by Lyttleton to O'Leary, and whilst O'Leary was attempting to administer the oath to me—McCarthy and Richardson took me into custody on O'Leary's charge—I
was given to the pair of them when I got out, I believe—I really can't say, as I was excited, whether I was given into Richardson's hands first, or McCarthy's—O'Leary called Richardson—I asked him whether he was a special constable when he took me—he did not say, "Yes, and I came on purpose to take you;" I swear that—I made the report at the station after the disturbance at five o'clock—I should not think it was above ten minutes past five, because no sooner did I enter the place, than they came in and struck me, and it was scarcely three minutes past five when I went in—I was staying at Ling's on the Sunday—I left the house about eleven—I did not see Ling for two or three hours after I was given into custody—he did not see me at the police-station that day, to my recollection—I did not see him about four o'clock that afternoon, to my knowledge—I did not see him between the time I was given into custody, at half-past three, from the time I made the charge, ten minutes past five—I don't think I saw him that afternoon, not until the evening, between six and seven, because he asked me where I had been all that time; I recollect that now—when the charge was made at the station, McCarthy and Richardson gave their addresses to the sergeant, and he gave them my address—I was not often treating persons at the King William—I generally used to go there every day—I stated before the Magistrate, when I was asked how I was living, that I had earned money enough while in America to live on my means—I left America on 13th July, and arrived at Liverpool on 26th or 27th—I came up to London on that evening, and went to St. Neot's on the 28th—I did not come to London after that until September, I think—I then lived at King Street, Silver Street, Regent Street, I don't know the number—I lived there a few weeks—I worked at Mr. Poole's, the tailor's, for a little—while I was there, sometimes I earned 2l. a week, sometimes 30s., sometimes 13s.—I did not work much—I did not leave owing money to the landlady in King Street for my lodgings—I did not go away owing money to Mr. Langstone, the publican—I believe I did owe him a few half-pence, that was all—I am now aware that I owed money to a young man named Rafferty—I am married, I am not living with my wife now—I went to America in February, 1865—I owed money at St. Neot's when I went away—it was not money borrowed a few days before I went—one debt was three months before, one one month, and the other three weeks—they are owing still, because I have not had the chance of paying, with one thing and another—my father is very ill, and I help to support him—I went to pay Mr. Wallis as soon as I went back, and a few little debts that I did owe, about 4l.—I owed Mrs. Grover a little, and I went and paid her, and Mrs. Harris 18s.—I went to pay Wallis, but he would not shake hands with me, and called me a rogue, and I said I wont pay a man that calls me a rogue, and I put the money in my pocket again—he was told by Mrs. Grover if he had kept his mouth shut he would have got his money—I did not tell Lyttleton that I had been taken up as a Fenian in Liverpool—I did not say I was in the hands of the police for a few hours; I can prove I never was—I am quite certain of the words of the oath that were repeated by Lyttleton to O'Leary—those were the exact words as near as I can recollect them.
MR. POLAND. Q. You say when you left St. Neot's there was a warrant out against you for an assault? A. Yes, that was settled by my mother paying the young man 4s.; but Mr. Pulling, the legal gentleman there, came down to St. Neot's with Mr. Wallis to prosecute me for the assault—that was after I had been examined as a witness at Deptford, and they
returned the 4s. to the young man to charge me with the offence—Mr. Wallis prosecuted me by Mr. Putting's instructions—I paid the amount of the fine—when I was in London I went to the place of the explosion at Clerkenwell, with my mother and two brothers, and a policeman gave me a piece of glass, and I said I should keep it and take it to America as a curiosity.
COURT. Q. I understand you to say you never have been a Fenian? A. No—I was never in the hands of the police before—I never was a Fenian in my life any more than yourself—I dropped across Lyttleton promiscuously Q. After they had told you about their being Fenians, what made you go and see them any more? A. I did not go on purpose to see him—I was walking along the street and met him—they asked me whether I would meet them next day, and I did to keep my word, that was all—I always disapproved of Fenianism—I did not expect for a moment I was going to stop; I went to say I had kept my word, and intended to return again.
ALFRED DAVIS SEAL . I am landlord of the King William the Fourth, Wellington Street, Deptford—I know the prisoner Lyttleton by his coming to my house several times—on Sunday, 19th January, I saw McCarthy and Richardson at my house—I had not seen them before—they came about a quarter to two o'clock; Lyttleton, O'Leary, and several others were with them—Boutall was there, I believe, when they came in—O'Leary, Richardson, and Lytlleton came in together, and McCarthy a few moments afterwards, and some one with him—I do not know whether it was his brother, or who it was—Richardson came in with McCarthy—there was a third party came in, and one man came round deliberately to Boutall, and said, "I heard you pass some remarks about America last night, and I think you are a b—y liar;" and after Boutall had spoken to him, and remarked on what happened in America, which made him believe he had been there, the same man said to Boutall, "I think you are a b—y Fenian"—Lyttleton said to the man, "I think it is very wrong for you to live in our company and come round to a strange man and interfere in his business that you know nothing about"—Lyttleton advised him to leave, and he did so—when he left, Lyttleton came back, and said, "Gentlemen, I believe we have a b—y sneak among us, you must dispense with it"—he got so excited that I was obliged to stop him, and he walked deliberately round to the man—they came round to test Boutall about America, and in the meantime Boutall, O'Leary, and McCarthy went into my back passage, which is a public thoroughfare right through—Boutall came beck to me. and said, "Seal, give me the key of the parlour"—I said, "I have not got it; I will call my postman"—I called him, and he gave it to him—the door was opened, and Boutall, Richardson, McCarthy, and O'Leary, and I think one or two others, I do not know which, came in at the same time with them, I did not take particular notice of them—I said, "Gentlemen, what business you have to transact do it as quickly as you possibly can, for my time is near for closing"—I came back to my bar, and heard the bell ring and a pot of stout ordered, which I served, and received 6d. from them—my postman took it in—Richardson went in with them—I was in my bar, and O'Leary came out, and said to Lyttleton, "I want you to come in with me," and they went in together—Lyttleton denied going in at first, but he went in by the persuasion of O'Leary, and being a few minutes to three, I said to my postman, "Hunt those men out of the room, I want my place closed"—I shut my front door up at three; in a short time I went to the parlour
door, and found McCarthy outside the door, and the door locked inside—he was standing listening, it appeared—there is a division between my bar and my room—I knocked at the door moderately, and said, "I want my house cleared; I will have it cleared if I find Boutall, O'Leary, and Lyttleton inside; out you come"—nobody else was inside to my knowledge—I do not know who opened the door, but it was opened from inside—I believe Richardson was one of them, but I did not see him at the time; he was not with McCarthy at the door, and he was not inside the room—Boutall, O'Leary, and Lyttleton came out, and I said, "My front premises are closed, you must go out the back way"—they did so, and the back gate was closed—they were in the room about half an hour from the time the key was fetched till I saw them out—I did not see what became of them—I saw Boutall again at a few minutes after five, when I opened my house again, and O'Leary, McCarthy, and Lyttleton came in about five or ten minutes after him—Boutall said to O'Leary and McCarthy, "Old boy, you were sucked in about not taking me, were you not?"—that was all I heard; a scuffle took place; I was obliged to interfere, and I had a severe hit on the jaw by Lyttleton—O' Leary quietly walked off, but Richardson did not—he took off his coat, and said, "I think you did very wrong in striking the landlord, who has no intimacy in this affair at all"—I did not see anybody strike Boutall—I know McCarthy's brother now by sight—I cannot recognize him as one of the parties who went into the room; I cannot swear one way or other, but I know him now by his coming to my house since—I did not know him before.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see Boutall before Sunday, the 19th? A. Two or three times—I did not say before the Magistrate that I saw him every day in the week before; it was not every day that I saw him, and it would be very wrong for me to say so if I had not—I had not seen him at my house once or twice a day for a week before Sunday, the 19th—(The witness' deposition, being read slated: " I had seen Boutall at my house every day for a week.")—I believe I may have seen Ling with Boutall at my house, it may have been two or three times—I do not believe Boutall had been at my house once or twice a day for a week before, but he had been in my absence—the statement in my deposition is erroneous—on the Saturday night prior to Sunday 18th, I saw O'Leary, Boutall, and Lyttleton at my bar—Boutall was then charged with being a detective, and got very angry—I put out the man who said that Boutall was a detective—Boutall had not been a customer of mine before, but I knew him slightly some week or so before this event—I do not know whether he had been in the habit of treating persons in my house; I believe he had—he paid for something, I know—on more than one occasion he has supplied beer to persons at my bar—I have seen him supplying beer to Lyttleton on more than one or two occasions—I heard Lyttleton say, "We have a b—y Fenian among us we want to dispense with"—I did not hear any person say to Boutall, "You b—y old Fenian"—I have not just said that I did, or that Lyttleton retorted, and said that he was a b—y s—.
COURT Q. You said that a man came round and said so? A. That was the man that came round from the front of my bar—I am quite certain that a person said it, but am not certain of the remark—I believe it was that Boutall was a b—y Fenian, or something of that kind—it was in reply to Boutall being an American, and doubting his being in America—when I saw McCarthy standing outside the door, I did not see Richardson.
standing there—when the door was opened, Lyttleton, O'Leary, and Boutall came out—I swear that those three came out, and I did not see any others—Boutall had no account with me for beer; I never have any account with anyone—he owed me, I dare say, for a pot or so, whatever he might have had.
JAMES MITCHELL . I am postman at the King William the Fourth—I have known McCarthy ten years; he works at Deptford Dockyard—I have known Lyttleton two months—on Sunday, 19th January, I came back from my dinner to the King William just before three—as I was going in, my master called for the key of the parlour; I gave it to him—I saw some men in the passage, but did not notice who they were—I heard the door unlocked, and the men go in—shortly after they went in, the bell rang; I answered it—the door was then open; I went in, and saw McCarthy, Richardson, O'Leary, Boutall, and another stranger, who I believe to be McCarthy's brother—Lyttleton was in front of the bar—I went into the parlour, and Boutall called for a pot of 6d. stout, and while I was calling for it in the bar O'Leary came out and took Lyttleton in—when I took the stout in I told them there was not much time to drink it, as we closed on Sundays at three o'clock—when I took in the stout, Lyttleton, Richardson, McCarthy, his brother, O'Leary, and Boutall were in the room—McCarthy paid for the stout, and I came out—after a few minutes I went to the door by my master's orders, and found it locked—I knocked, and the answer was they would not be above three or four minutes—I told my master; he said, "Well, they must get out, it is closed at three o'clock—I did not see anyone outside; all six parties, I believe, were in the parlour—I did not remain by the door; I went out to lock the back gate—I let them out the back way—Lyttleton and Richardson came out first, O'Leary, Boutall, and McCarthy's brother came out afterwards—I did not see where McCarthy went to, he must have gone out the front way—only five persons went out at the back gate.
COURT. Q. Where was McCarthy at that time? A. He came out last, along with Boutall—they then left the premises—after they had gone out I saw McCarthy and Richardson had Boutall in custody.
Cross-examined. Q. You say your master sent you to the door after you had taken in the pot of beer? A. He told me when I called for the beer to tell the gentlemen that there was not much time to drink it—I knocked at the door—I did not call my master, nor did he come to the door while I was there—I told him I could not get the gentlemen out, and he went to the door and I went away—Boutall called for the stout; he said something about putting it down to him—McCarthy then paid for it.
SAMUEL LING (Policeman R 159). I am stationed at Greenwich—Boutall is a cousin of mine—on Monday, 20th January, soon after five in the morning, from information I received, I went with a constable to Lyttleton's lodging, 103, New Street, Deptford—I waited till a lodger came out, and then I went in—I knocked at the door of one of the rooms, and said, "Maurice, I want to speak to you"—a voice said, "He is not in; he has not been home all night"—it came from the room where I had previously seen him in bed—I said, "Open the door"—a voice said again, "He is not in"—I went to the front windows, pulled open the shutters, and distinctly, saw him in bed with his wife and an infant—I called to him, and said, "Maurice, open the door, or I will break it in"—he said, "All right; I will open it;" he did so—I said, Maurice, you can consider yourself my
prisoner; dress yourself"—he commenced to dress himself, and his wife said something—Lyttleton said, "Tell me the charge"—I said it was one of treason-felony—he said, "I will go with you"—after he had dressed, he went outside into New Street with me—before leaving, when I mentioned treason-felony, he turned to his wife and said, "It is you that has done this; you ought to be gibbeted"—I took him outside, and he said, "I expected this," and in Evenly Street he said, "I suppose this was my Yankee friend that has done this"—I took him to the station, searched him, and found this book (produced) in his right-hand coat pocket—there are some manuscript verses inside it—it is in the same state as I found it—across one of the pages is written, "I am not a detective; I never was, by my God"—I searched Lyttleton's room with Yardley, and I found a copy of the Irishman newspaper—I assisted in searching McCarthy's place on the morning of the 20th, about eight o'clock, with Inspector Digby—I was not there when he was taken in custody.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see Lyttleton? A. On the night of 22nd December last—I began to watch him then—I was not watching him specially when Boutall came to reside with me, I began to watch him specially about the time of the January Sessions commencing here—Boutall came to my house on 31st December—I had seen him at the Greenwich police-court, but I did not know it—he slept there that night—he had been away, in London, some time; that was his home when he liked to come to it—I only saw him once about thirteen years ago, and once about seven years ago—I never saw him but twice before; I did not know him from an utter stranger—I did not tell him I was watching Lyttleton—I first saw him with Lyttleton on 10th or 11th January—I said before the Magistrate I thought it was on the 10th, I would not be positive—they were at the lower end of High Street—I met two persons—I think they were close to the White Swan—I do not know how long I had left Boutall before I saw him with Lyttleton, it was more than ten minutes—I did not tell Boutall that I was watching, till after he had made a communication at the station; that was on the Wednesday or Thursday—he did not make the communication to me—I think I and Yardley were at the station when it was made—Inspector Digby was not there—I think that Yardley and I were at the station then—Inspector Ebbs was—I have already told you that I knew prior to Friday the 19th that Boutall had made this communication to the police—I was there when he was speaking to the Inspector—I think so—I took little or no notice of what communication he made—I certainly did not ask Boutall what it was—I had not conveyed to him what my ideas were—it is not likely, nor to anyone else—Boutall was still staying at my house, he might have stayed there that night—occasionally he was away—I did not ask him what communication he was making to the police—I took little or no notice—I knew very well what he was doing—I gave Boutall no instructions—I was not with him on Saturday evening 18th January; certainly not—I swear I was not with him at the King William—I left him about five o'clock and never saw him again until after I had returned home at twelve o'clock at night, when I was in bed—I had been about my duty; where he had been to I don't know—I was not with him at the White Swan, or any public-house that evening—he did not tell me where he was going—I never asked him—I had enough to do to look after my own duties—I don't know what time I went out on the Sunday morning; it might have been eleven o'clock—I know I went home to dinner, and Boutall was
not there—he did not tell me he had gone to the public-house—I should say I did not Bee him till nigh four o'clock on the Sunday afternoon—I was then going down High Street—a person met me and said something to me which caused me to go to the station, and I there saw Boutall—I went in, and said, "Holloa! how is it that you have not been home to dinner? hook it off home at once; the missus is waiting for you"—he commenced saying something about being brought in custody—I said, "What? I can hear that from the sergeant," and he went out, and I did not see him again till about seven o'clock.
Q. Did not you state before the Magistrate upon cross-examination, "I have seen Boutall in Lyttleton's company, and surprised I was; Boutall conveyed his ideas to me about Lyttleton, and then I told him I was watching Lyttleton?" A. That was after the communication was made at Deptford station—I never told Boutall I was watching Lyttleton till after he had made that report at the station—I might have done so on the Wednesday or Thursday, I think I did—he certainly did not know before 10th January that I was watching Lyttleton, even the police did not know except those who authorized me to do so—Boutall did not tell me that an illegal oath had been attempted to be administered to him until after I heard it from the sergeant—that was at four o'clock—Boutall himself told me about it when I met him—I have been in the police seven years on 14th last January—before that I was apprenticed to a bootmaker—I used to sing at the cathedral at Ely—I entered the police to better my position—I don't know that I am bound to answer when I was married—I did not leave Ely in company with a young woman named Emma Allpress—I did not have all her things sold off to avoid my creditors, or give instructions to have them sold—Mr. Sprechley sold them under the Insolvent Debtor's Act—he was the officer of the court—I have been in plain clothes most of the time of my police service—I was not obliged to give up my office as detective at Woolwich on account of misconduct—it is the order of the Commissioners that a man should not be kept entirely in plain clothes.
MR. POLAND. Q. Was your promotion ever stopped for any misconduct in the police? A. Oh. dear no—I am now recommended for promotion—this is the memorandum book I have produced. Two extracts were read from this book, one a copy of verses, the other an extract from the pastoral letter of Bishop Moriaty.
JAMES GRIFFIN (Superintendent R). On the 19th January, from information I received from Inspector Digby and Constable Ling, I organized parties to take the prisoners into custody—I went with one of the parties to 2, Queen Street, Deptford, where Richardson and O'Leary lived—Boutall and a constable went with me at five o'clock in the evening of the 20th—we stayed outside till twenty minutes past six, when the door was opened by a man, who I believe to be O'Leary—he kept his body within the door, put his head out, and looked right and left, and though I drew back to hide myself he evidently saw me, and he withdrew his head into the doorway—I stepped forward, and said, "One moment"—I was going to say, "I wish to speak to you" but the door was closed and bolted—I then sent two constables who were with me down into the cellar, and they came up and opened the front door to me—I went upstairs, and found Richardson in bed—O'Leary was not in the house—I told Richardson I had come to take him into custody on a charge of being concerned in a matter of Fenianism with other men, one being O'Leary—I said that he administered
an oath on the Sunday to the young man who is now present—Boutall was then in the room—Richardson said he had nothing to do with it; he went there as a special constable—his wife said, "Oh, gentlemen, he has nothing to do with that; he is a Protestant; he is an Englishman, like yourselves"—I first heard what had taken place at the King William on the Monday night—inspector Digby and Ling gave me the information, and I sent for Boutall and heard his statement.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you say to Richardson, "I charge you with administering an oath to a young man named Boutall"? A. Concerned with others in doing so—I was informed that the oath had been administered to Boutall—I heard the full description, as I thought, of an oath between Lyttleton and O'Leary, and from Lyttleton to Boutall afterwards—the words of the oath were administered to Boutall—the charge before the Magistrate was Fenianism, from beginning to end—I know Ling was watching Lyttleton some days before this matter occurred—I first saw Boutall on Sunday night, the 19th; never before—I took it to be Richardson's wife who said he was an Englishman—it was a person who was in the room with him—there were two rooms, with merely a step between them—Richardson invited me to search his house—I did so, but found nothing.
Richardson. It was my wife's sister.
CHARLES DIGBY (Police Inspector R). On Sunday night, 19th January, I received information from Sergeant Cadwell R 8—I had not seen Boutall that day, but I had seen him prior to that—I saw him about twelve o'clock that Sunday night, but he made no statement to me—I received the information from Cadwell—on Monday morning, about five o'clock, I went to McCarthy's house—I stayed till about half-past seven, and saw him come out—I went up to him, and asked him whether his name was Florence McCarthy—he said, "Yes, that is my name"—I said, "I believe you were in company with Lyttleton and others at the William the Fourth public-house, Wellington Street, Deptford, on Saturday afternoon, when an illegal oath was administered, first of all to a man named Daniel O'Leary, by Lyttleton, and afterwards by O'Leary to a man named Boutall"—he said "Yes, I was"—I said, "I have something further to say to you in reference to this matter; I must request you to come to the station with me"—he said, "Would it not do when I come out to dinner," meaning when he came out of the dockyard, where he was employed—I said "No, you must come now"—I took him to the station, and afterwards searched his house, 35, Princes Street, Deptford, and I found a hat-box locked in the front first floor room, used as a bedroom—I found these two woodcuts of the so-called General Burke and Edward Duffy—I attached this piece of paper to them myself—it is an extract from Lloyd's Newspaper, giving an account of the death of the prisoners—on the window-ledge in the same room, I found this subscription book—between the matrasses I found copies of the Irishman newspaper, 'and the Universal News; that is another Irish paper—it was inside the tick and straw of the mattrass—this paper with a black border is a supplement to one of the copies of the Irishman—on the mantelpiece in the same room, I found a Testament corresponding with the one that has been produced here to-day—it was free from dust—other books on the same mantelpiece were covered with dust, showing that it had been recently used—this was on the Sunday.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see Boutall? A. On the Wednesday or Thursday prior to the prisoners being taken into custody,
about 17th January—I saw Boutall outside the station with Ling, and Yardley, but not in the station—I think I saw Ling with Boutall on the Saturday night prior to the Sunday—I have known McCarthy twelve years, at least, as a labourer in Her Majesty's Dockyard—I know where he lives now—I know that he has lodgers, at least I have been given to understand so since his apprehension; I did not know that at the time—McCarthy was not in the room when I found these papers there; he was in custody—his brother and his wife took me into the room.
GEORGE CADWELL (Police Sergeant R 8). On Sunday, 19th January, I was on duty at the Deptford Station—Boutall was brought there in custody about half-past three in the afternoon by McCarthy and Richardson, and a man named Daniel O'Leary—O'Leary charged him with being a Fenian—he said he had had a conversation with him on the Saturday night, and he believed him to be a Fenian—I asked him why he had not given information at the station about it—he said that he did not think it was necessary, as he had a special constable in his house—I took the names and addresses of the whole of them—I had seen Boutall before—I did hot know that he was a relation of Ling's—Boutall stated that if I wished for any reference respecting him, he would refer me to detective Ling—McCarthy stated that he was at the William, in Wellington Street, and was called upon by O'Leary to take Boutall into custody, with Richardson as well, he and Richardson being special constables—I did not take the charge—I gave Boutall's name and address to O'Leary—about ten minutes after that, Boutall returned to the station, and made a further communication to me—it had reference to something that took place at the King William on the Sunday afternoon—I reported the matter to Inspector Digby.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen Boutall about with Ling? A. Once; I think he was talking to him—when Boutall was brought in custody he did not make any countercharge then—he did not make a statement to me after five o'clock—Ling came to the station after Boutall was in custody, and after the communication was made to me by Boutall—I acted on that communication—I communicated it to Inspector Digby, and also to ting—I told Ling about four o'clock, as near as possible—they gave their addresses.
A long statement made by Richardson before the Magistrate was put in and read: in substance it amounted to a denial of the statements made by the witness Boutall, and asserted that he and McCarthy, as special constables, were watching the witness as a suspected Fenian, and that it was not until they had taken him into custody that he made the present accusation.
Witnesses for the Defence:—
DENNIS McCARTHY . I am McCarthy's brother, and am a shipwright—before 19th January this year I had not seen either Richardson or Lyttleton—I first saw them at the King William public-house, Deptford, about two. on that afternoon—I entered the public-house with my brother Florence—I had come straight from his house, 35, Princes Street, and had not been at the King's Head public-house that morning—when we entered the King William there was no one in the compartment we went into, but there was another compartment on the left, and another on the right: altogether there are four compartments at the bar—I saw Boutall on the left, in the midst of seven or eight men, proclaiming himself an American and a citizen, and praising America—a man with a moustache in the right compartment came round to me, and asked me for a book—I asked him what sort of book—he
said, "Any sort"—I afterwards heard that his name was O'Leary—I told him I had been to church that morning, and I had got a prayer book—he said that would do, and I lent it to him—this is it—Boutall then came into the compartment where I was, and we spoke about America—he asked me about different parts of America inland, Ohio, Cleveland, and so on; but I told him I had only been to the seaport towns—directly after that he left the compartment, and went on the right, immediately returning and saying to me, "Come in here; we have got some gin"—I went in, but there was so much confusion that I returned to my compartment—soon afterwards we all went into the parlour, Boutall, the man with the moustache, O'Leary, myself, my brother, Lyttleton, Richardson, and there might be two others—I did not take any particular notice as to the number—I cannot say whether Lyttleton went in with us, but I saw him in the room—we all went in in a straggling sort of way—there were several in the room when I went in—when I got in somebody ordered a pot of stout, which came—I cannot tell who paid for it—Boutall stood in the middle of the room; in fact, he stood all the time, and so did O'Leary—Boutall took his coat off, and laid it on the table, with the inside upwards, and said that he paid thirty dollars, I think, for making it; that he cut it himself, and he seemed to praise it as an American-made coat—he then extended his arm in this manner to O'Leary, and said, "May this arm be paralyzed; may I be struck dead on the spot, if I am a detective; I am with you, boys, willing to take any oath, or anything"—I will not be certain whether he used the word oath, I think he did—McCarthy then left the room, saying that there was something wrong, followed, I think, by Richardson and Lyttleton—they only left Boutall, myself, and O'Leary in the room; O'Leary and Boutall were standing together, and I was taking no particular notice of what they were doing; I was sitting down.
COURT. Q. Was Lyttleton there? A. No; he had gone at that time; McCarthy went first, Richardson next, and I think Lyttleton followed—O'Leary then found the book I had lent him, and said to Boutall, "What is your name?"—he said, "My name is James Boutall"—O'Leary then said to him, "I, James Boutall, solemnly vow;" Boutall repeated the words—I then said, "There is something wrong, I must leave the room too;" I got up, the door opened against me, the landlord entered, and I went out—immediately afterwards O'Leary and Boutall came out, and we all went out the back way, because the front doors were shut.
MR. WILLES. Q. Did they follow you out? A. Yes; immediately afterwards—O'Leary returned me the book immediately we got outside into Collin Street, I think it is, and he, Boutall, McCarthy, and Richardson went away, and I left them.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. Q. Was the door of the room locked at any time? A. To the best of my knowledge it was not; it may have been; I should not like to be positive—I did not see anybody lock or unlock it; when I went to try the handle it seemed to fly open—I was not at the bar when the barman fetched the key—I did not hear it asked for, and I know nothing about it—I went into the room I should think about a quarter to three; the other persons had their beer in the room a few minutes—I saw a book produced by Lyttleton; I cannot say whether this is it, or whether it had red covers; it seems about the size and colour—I cannot swear to the colour, I do not know what colour it was—when Boutall said that he was not a detective I saw Lyttleton write in the book, making
a note of something that Boutall said; I did not not me what it was, I was not paying any particular attention—I do not know how O'Leary came to ask me if I had a book, I had never spoken to him when he asked me for a book and said that any sort of book would do—I lent him the book—I do not live with my brother; I am upon sick leave from Chatham, and was staying in the house with him, not lodging there, and he and I went to this public-house together—I asked O'Leary what he wanted the book for; he said nothing, but put it in his pocket, and walked away—my brother left the room when Boutall began "I solemnly vow," I thought there was something wrong then, and perhaps they must be up to something illegal—I have never taken any oaths except here and at Greenwich—I heard nothing more, I left the room then and went out the back way, and my brother and Lyttleton and Richardson were all out in Collin Street—I saw Boutall given into custody, I did not go to the station.
MR. WILLES. Q. When do you say that McCarthy left the room? A. Directly Boutall mentioned those words, at least at the time Lyttleton produced the book on the table—McCarthy rose up and said "I must leave the room, there is something wrong going on," and he was followed by Richardson and I think by Lyttleton.
COURT. Q. What was Boutall given into custody for? A. I don't know—I did not hear it said, and I did not ask—I did not see them take him prisoner—they walked near together; they did not lay hands on him—I had not the slightest notion why he was taken into custody—I think O'Leary said, "Take this man in charge"—I felt surprised, but I never asked anybody the reason; I did not feel that way inclined—I thought I would leave them—I have been out in ships to seaport towns in America, and got this book presented to me in America by the Rev. J. W. Allen—I had been in chapel on this morning from eleven to one at Deptford, and had been home since and had dinner—I generally carry the book in my pocket, pretty well at all times, because we have evening service as well as service on Sundays—it is a small book, and I generally keep it in my pocket—it is a book that I should take to chapel during service—you will see the prayers there for mass, and such like—I don't know where O'Leary is—he was quite a stranger to me; I had never seen him before—the whole of them were strangers to me.
JOSEPH WILCOX . I am a woollen-draper and tailor at St. Neot's—I have lived there fifty years, and have been in business twenty-three years—I have known James Boutall twenty years past, and have known the family many years—his father worked for me five years before ho was born—I would not believe Boutall on his oath; neither would seven-eighths of the population of the town.
COURT. Q. Why do you have that opinion of him? do you mean that his oath would not make you believe him any more than if he did not take it? A. No; my reason is because he scarcely or ever tells the truth—nobody believes him—he never speaks the truth scarcely to any one—he is one of our lowest roughs that we have in the town; that is well known—from my general knowledge of him for twenty years, I have a very bad opinion of him, and would not believe him on his oath.
COURT. Q. Have you known any particular wrong about him? A. He
had some goods of me, and has not paid me—it is from my general knowledge of him that I would not believe him.
Cross-examined. Q. I think you had some quarrel with him, had you not? A. No, never—he did not say that he would not pay me—I knew him before he went to America—I believe he went, there early in 1865—he owed me 2l. 19s. 3d. when he went—he did not pay me when he came back—I did not quarrel with him about it—we had no words—he came to me and offered to shake hands with me—I did not call him a thief—I told him I would not shake hands with a man that had swindled me—he did not say that he had come to pay me the money, and would not pay me now that I had called him a swindler—nothing of the kind—he walked off and nothing further passed—I did not wait to see whether he was going to pay me, or what he called for—I have not been paid—I have been subpcened by Mr. Pulling.
COURT. Q. You say you would not believe him on his oath, that is having a very bad opinion of him? A. Certainly—he is the most notorious liar in the town of St. Neot's.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
289a. JOHN EATON (44) , to feloniously marrying Eliza Ann Gutteridge, his wife Miriam being alive; and also to feloniously marrying Lydia Thompson, his wife Miriam being alive.— [Pleaded guilty to both counts: See original trial image.] Two Years' Imprisonment .
ROBERT SCOTT LAIRAIN . I am manager to Mr. Walter Graham, oil cake manufacturer, at West Drayton—on 24th January the prisoner came to the mills, and asked me the price of linseed cake—I said 12l. 10s. per ton—he said he wanted some, but he did not give me any directions where he wanted it sent to, and I referred him to Mr. Graham—he wrote down his address, this is it (read) "J. H. Field, Wilsdew House, Thorpe, Surrey"—I have made inquiries, but no person of that name lives there—this order was brought to me at the works on the 30th (read) "Eggham Hythe Farm, 29th January, 1868. Gentlemen, Please deliver to bearer two tons of best linseed cake, and oblige yours respectfully, C. Saunders. Please send account by the bearer"—I gave the cake to the carman, who gave the name of Thomas Wiggins—I saw them loading the cake, and went away for a short time; when I came back it was gone—I next saw the prisoner at the Kingston police-station on 30th January, and identified him as the man who had been to my place—he was with me altogether about half-an-hour—he
went away, and came back and said he had been to the hotel to have a glass of ale, and said I could do business as well as my master—I said in this case I could not, and again referred him to Mr. Graham—I saw the cart that came for the cake—there was "Saunders, Egham, Surrey," on the side of it.
Cross-examined. Q. This order was dated the 29th and brought to you on the 30th? A. Yes—the man. Simply handed the order to me; we had no conversation—we have had orders from Mr. Saunders before—I have had letters from Mr. Saunders—I have never seen him write—I believed that order to be in Mr. Saunders's writing—there was no one else with the van but the man who called himself Wiggins—it was about twenty minutes or half an hour from the time of my receiving the order and the van; going away—there were four or five of my men helping to get the cake into the van—this order was given to me four or five days after I saw the prisoner—when I saw him at the police-court he was not in the dock, but in the yard—I went in to see if I knew him, and I did; there were about twelve others there with him—I do not know whether he came out first or last; I merely saw the man there.
WILLIAM CHRISTOPHER SAUNDERS . I live at Egham, Hythe Farm, and am a customer of Mr. Graham's—this order was not written or signed by me, I know nothing about it—the prisoner was in my service five years ago—I have seen his writing, and I have compared with a book the writing on the order, and believe it to be his—I did not send a man named Wiggins to the prosecutor on the 30th.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the prisoner write that in the book? A. No, it is an account that he kept—the writing in the book is his—he was the only person who kept the accounts—I did not take any part of the book to the police-court—I would not swear that I have seen him write; I have no doubt I have a good many times—I am in the habit of sending orders to Mr. Graham—we do not generally send written orders; we send an order by the boy, a printed order—I have never sent an order like this—if one of my clerks had written out the order I should not expect them to deliver it—I believe this piece of paper (produced) to be in the prisoner's writing—at the police-court I said I did not think it was, but now I believe it is, as I have compared it.
CHARLES COLES . I am manager to Messrs. Somers, hay salesmen, at Reading—the prisoner was in their employ—I have seen him write, and have got some of his writing here—I believe this order to be his writing.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you think that the writing on the order and the writing in the book are like each other. A. I do—the greater part of this book is in the prisoner's writing, and this receipt also—it is about eight months or a year since I saw him write.
JOHN ODELL . I live at Hayes, and am a dealer in fish—on 30th January I was going to Brentford from West Drayton—I met a van with two horses, and three men in charge of it—there was nothing in the van but a cloth—to the best of my belief the prisoner was one of the three—I met the van again in the afternoon with the same men—there was some oil-cake in it then—they were driving very fast—I next saw the prisoner on the Tuesday at the police-court, and again on the Friday—I recognized him as one of the men with the van.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you said at the police-court, "I saw him
here last Tuesday, when the constable told me he was charged with forgery?" A. Yes, I said that in answer to you at the police-court.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted at Aylesbury, to which he PLEADED GUILTY— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
There were two other indictments against the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN DAY . I am a labourer, of 6, Northcote Place, Greenwich—on 4th February, between one and two in the morning, I was in the Borough Road—as I passed a coffee stall the prisoner asked me to treat him with some coffee—I gave him a cup and he went away—there were three or four of them there—I stopped there several minutes thinking I should see a policeman, and then went on towards Red Cross Square—when I was going to knock at my friend's door, the prisoner came up to me and two or three more—the prisoner held me round the neck behind while the others robbed me—I know it was the prisoner because they never got out of my sight—they took my watch from my pocket and snapped the chain, but I had the watch in my hand—they bit my hand to make me leave go, but I did not, and they broke the chain—I cried out that I was being robbed, and my friend Rowland came out—I gave my watch and a portion of my chain, which was in my hand, to Sarah Rowland—the prisoner said "It was not me," and ran away and Rowland after him—I followed and saw him taken.
GEORGE ROWLAND . I keep the Red Cross Arms, Red Cross Square—on 4th February, Day was going to sleep at my house, and between one and two in the morning I heard him call out "George, I am being robbed"—I looked out at the window and saw the prisoner hugging him round the neck—I ran down, opened the door, and pursued the prisoner, calling "Stop thief"—a serjeant stopped him; I had kept him in sight all the time—I was not ten yards away from him—I saw no one else with him—he said it was not me it was the others.
WILLIAM HUNT (Police-Serjeant M 18). On Tuesday morning, 4th February, I saw the prisoner running down High Street, Borough, about twenty minutes to two o'clock, and heard Rowland calling "Stop thief"—I stood in a doorway till the prisoner came opposite me, and then seized him—he said "What do you want me for?" Rowland came up and said "I saw him with his arms round the neck of my friend—I took him to the Red Cross Anns, and the prosecutor charged him—his only reply was that he had been drinking coffee with the prosecutor—on the way to the station he struggled violently, put his legs round me, threw me down, end broke the small bone of my arm.
Prisoner. Q. You struck me? A. Yes, after I was on the ground.
SARAH ROWLAND . I am George Rowland's mother—Day gave me his watch, wth a portion of chain to it—I looked in the place where the scuffle was, saw something shining, took a candle, and picked up this other piece
of chain—it corresponds with the piece on the watch, and makes the chain complete. GUILTY .— Eighteen Months'Imprisonment .
MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. M. WILLIAMS defended Turner and Willis, and MR. LILLEY defended Addis.
RICHARD BYLES . I am a sailor, and live at 33, Ernest Street, Bermondsey—on 28th January, I met the female prisoner in the King's Arms, Old Kent Road, about a quarter to twelve at night—I had some drink with her, and we left to go away together—I had hardly proceeded many yards outside, before I received a violent blow on my head, which rendered me nearly insensible, and a second blow on my ear—I was knocked down, and the female prisoner laid hold of me by the throat, and tried to get my watch out of my waistcoat pocket—she nearly strangled me, but only got the chain, and she did not take that—Bowman had hold of my legs—there were four altogether—twelve or fourteen people came up, and then the police—when I came to my senses, my chain was on the pavement; but I had got my watch, and I kept my arm on it for security—Bowman, pulled my legs very violently.
Cross-examined. Were you quite sensible before the first blow? A. Yes—I had been drinking pretty freely, but not to lose my senses—I, perhaps, had four or five glasses of brandy and water—I was only in the one public-house, and only for ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—I did not have the four glasses of brandy-and-water in a quarter of an hour—perhaps I might have been at the Crystal Palace—I had either rum-and-water or brandy and water with the female prisoner—I only had two glasses with her—the last drink I had was, I think, in the Borough, between five and six o'clock; a little ale, or a little rum and some cloves—I do not know what I had at the Crystal Palace—I did not tumble down, and the femalr prisoner was not trying to pick me up—I do not recognize Turner at all—I did not see other people besides the prisoners.
MR. DALEY. Q. Bowman and the female you swear positively to? A. Yes—Addis did not endeavour to assist me up off the ground—there may have been twelve or fourteen people round me.
Bowman. Q. You say that you saw me at your legs; how could you see me if you were strangled? A. I recognized you when you had hold of my leg, pulling it very severely.
MICHAEL MORIARTY (Policeman P 335). On the morning of 25th January I was on duty in the Old Kent Road, about a quarter to one o'clock, with another constable, and saw Byles and the female prisoner come out of the King's Arms—they came up to P 341, who was with me, and Byles asked him if he was going to have anything to drink—he said, "No"—I told him to go away if he did not require anything to drink—they turned a comer, and I lost sight of them—after about five minutes we went up to the corner and saw Byles lying on his back on the pavement, calling out "Police"—we hastened to the spot, and found the four prisoners standing over him—Turner was just in the act of leaving—I took Addis in custody—he said, "I was merely passing along; what a shame to treat a
man so"—I said, "Do you give them all six in custody?"—Byles said, "Yes"—I found the chain (produced) lying by his side, and asked him if he had lost his watch—he said, "No"—Addis gave the name of Johnson, but recalled it, and said Addis.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Byles very drunk? A. He knew what he was about—he had had more than ordinary refreshment, but he was not drunk—when I got up, Turner had his face towards the prosecutor, and was walking backwards, like a crab—Turner was about two yards from the prosecutor—a number of people came up after we took the prisoners—there were not several people looking on before we took them—I swear that.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Do you know that part of the Kent Road? A. Very well—the road between the King's Arms and the Bricklayer's Arms is a very wide one—there is a cab stand there—I was on duty on the King's Arms side, about ten yards from the entrance to the King's Arms, and about ten yards from the corner of the Kent Road—when I got there the parties were about thirty yards from the corner of the Kent Road—when I took Addis he said, "I was merely walking along."
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Did three of the N Division come up before you took Addis? A. They came up afterwards.
JAMES MORLAND (Policeman P 341). I was on duty with Moriarty, at a quarter past one o'clock, at the corner of the New Kent Road—I saw Byles, who asked me if I would have anything to drink—the female prisoner was with him—I declined having anything—I turned the corner of the New Kent Road, about thirty yards down, and saw Bylee on the pavement, and the prisoners tending over him—I took Bowman in custody—I saw him pick up something, and asked him what it was—he said his hat—some of the M division came up afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Could you see when you got to the corner of the Kent Road? A. Yes—I ran up very quickly, and Moriarty after me.
COURT. Q. Before you saw the prisoners bending over the prosecutor had you seen the others? A. I had seen Addis at the King's Arms, Old Kent Road, about half an hour before—I particularly noticed Addis; he was in front of the King's Arms, outside.
JOHN GILLES (Policeman M 67). On the night of 28th January I saw the four prisoners come out of the King's Arms, Old Kent Road, about ten minutes to one o'clock—the prosecutor and a female came out before the others, and walked down the road, and the three male prisoners came out and crossed over to the right, and when they got to a dark place they crossed over, and then I saw the two P division men running, and heard a cry of "Police"—we went to the spot, and saw the two P division men each holding two men—they handed over Turner to me—the prosecutor was just getting off his knees.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Did you come up at the same time as Foster? A. He was just behind me—other people were not standing about, but others came running down—the prisoners were not looking on, and were not helping the prosecutor up.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Did you see which door of the King's Arms the prisoners came out of? A. No; I believe there are three doors, and they came out of one of the two doors in the Old Kent Road; the other door is at the side.
Road, on the evening of the 28 th, and saw the three male prisoners on the prosecutor's right, and the female on his left—the male prisoners crossed over, and I heard the prosecutor cry "Police"—I ran up, and found him getting up on his hands and knees, and the prisoners standing round—I picked up this chain on the pavement.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Is it a public street? A. Yes; I was about twenty yards from the prisoners when they came out—it was about three minutes after that that I heard the cry of police.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Were you in company with Gilles? A. Yes; we were standing by the Bricklayers' Arms; we did not separate; we both ran off together—there was nobody but the prosecutor, the prisoners, and two constables when we got there—other people were not passing, but there were some there half a minute afterwards—it is not twenty yards from where I stood across the road into the New Kent Road; I am not accustomed to measure.
WILLIAM FOSTER (Policeman M 104). I was with Sandford, and saw the prosecutor and the female prisoner come out, and go along the road, the male prisoners followed on the other side—I went across, and heard a cry of "Police," went up, and found them all standing round the prosecutor, who was in the act of getting up.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. They were not helping him, but looking on. A. Yes.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLEY. Q. Were you on the Bricklayers' Arms side? A. Yes; at the corner of Bermondsey New Road—I did not see the prisoners come out of the public-house, and do not remember saying before the Magistrate that I did.
Bowman's Defence.—I was coming along the road, and ran up with the prisoners. GUILTY of assault, with intent to rob.
TURNER received a good character, and was recommended to mercy on account of it. Nine Months' Imprisonment .
Bowman and Addis were further charged with having been before convicted, Bowman at Westminster, in June, 1862, and Addis at Clerkenwell, in February, 1865, to which they both PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years, 'Penal Servitude .
WILLIS, Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
MR. SLEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DALEY conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES CORBETT (Policeman P 116). On 2nd February, between ten and eleven o'clock at night, I was in New Church Road, Cainberwell—I saw the prisoner and three more men holding the prosecutor and putting their hands in his pockets—he was standing up—three of them saw me and ran away, but the prisoner could not get his hand out of the pocket so soon, and I got close to him—I ran after him 200 yards and caught him without losing sight of him—the prosecutor complained of being robbed—I searched the prisoner at the station and found two half-crowns and a florin.
GEORGE WILLIAM HUGGINS . I am a printer, and live at 11, Hilliugham Street—on Sunday night, 2nd February, about half-past ten, I came out of the Clarence public-house, Cainberwell—some men were in the bar—the prisoner is one of them—they left the bar before me, and when I got out they all got round me, and two of them rifled my pockets and took what I had, and my hat and stick, and about 7s.—they gave me one or two cracks with their fists on the head—the constable came up and the others ran away—the prisoner remained last, he seemed very intent on my pockets—I was sober—I had had some drink, and might have been a little affected by it—I was conscious of what was passing—the men may have spoken to me in the public-house and asked me for some beer, but I do not recollect—I had two half-crowns among my money.
Prisoner. Q. Did I speak to you at the bar? A. No—no one went out at the door with me.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrates:—"I came of a beer-shop, and was running across the road out of the way of a 'bus, and the constable came up and caught me, and said I had been robbing a man."
Prisoner's Defence. I have two witnesses to prove I borrowed the money.
COURT Q. Did you see the prosecutor there? A. No—I am a witness that the prisoner had more than 7s. in his possession, because he borrowed 15s. at his brother's house, between seven and eight o'clock on Sunday night—no others were with us in the public-house—I was not in his company, I was on the other side—I do not live with him.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; MR. MOODY appeared for Tyndal, and MR. R. N. PHILIPPS for Hart.
THOMAS PROBIS ACKERMAN . I live at 25, New Street—on 3rd February I retired to bed about eleven o'clock, and left in my shop nine prints, three sealskins, thirteen waistcoats, and two lengths of scarlet flannel—I was aroused about two o'clock by L170, went down, found the shutter-bar forced and raised, and one of the shutters taken down, and missed the prints, flannel, and seal-skin—these articles (produced) are my property, and have my mark on them—I identify these price tickets as having been on the waistcoats.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. Have these tickets any mark of yours? A. No; but I identify them as being attached to the waistcoats stolen.
THOMAS PHELAN (Policeman L 170). On the morning of 4th February I was in the New Cut about half-past one—I saw Tyndal running in the direction of the prosecutor's shop with a bundle in his arms—it was bulky—I was ten or twenty yards from him then—he went towards Eaton Street—I ran after him, and lost sight of him for a moment just as he turned the corner, but saw him again in Windmill Row; he still had the bundle—he lives in an alley in Union Street, Borough—I sprang my rattle—he threw the bundle down, and ran to the end of Windmill Street and into King
Street, where he was joined by another man, and they both ran together—I passed the bundle; it was something light—I caught the other man first, and called to another constable, who stopped Tyndal—he said, "What is it for?"—I said, "For breaking into a shop in the Cut"—he said, "All right, I will walk with you"—I had another man, named Jeff, with me—Tyndal said that Jeff knew nothing about it, but he was right enough himself—he said at the station when I told the inspector the charge, "God strike me a corpse that man knows nothing about it (meaning JEFF), but I am right enough"—Jeff was discharged by the Magistrate; he called witnesses and proved an alibi—you can get from Windmill Street to King Street through the houses; the backs face one another—the place where the bundle was dropped in Windmill Row is ten or fifteen yards from the back-yard of 31, King Street.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. Did you say before the Magistrate that when you arrested Tyndal you told him the charge. A. Yes—my depositions were read over to me and I believe it is in them—when I first saw Tyndal he was running, and turning into Eaton Street which runs into the New Cut, ten or twelve yards from Ackerman's—I believe there are only two shops between—that would be coming from Waterloo Road towards Blackfriars—you would not go down Eaton Street to go to the Borough, you would continue in the Cut and go straight on, you can go a long way up Eaton Street and then turn—I had not been on duty in Waterloo Road that night, and do not know of any disturbance there—I have known Phelan a long time.
Cross-examined by MR. R. N. PHILIPPS. Q. Was the bundle dropped in the centre of the carriage way? A. No—it is a little private court—there were not many people about, I saw no one in the court, there was one at the top of the court.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. At which end. A. At this end, as you go in—I passed him when I was taking Tyndal to the station, he stood in Eaton Street, at the corner of the court—I saw him, and saw Tyndal run past him—I know him by sight.
PATRICK BRIEN (Policeman L 121). I was on duty in New Cut, and saw Tyndal running into the Cut from Windmill Street, at about half past one or a quarter to two—I ran after him, but as I laid my hand on him I fell, and he turned down Eaton Street—when I saw him again he was in Phelan's arms—I found these four cards (produced) in Little Windmill Street, scattered about, the first one was in Eaton Street and the rest were a yard apart.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. How far were you from him in Windmill Street when he was running? A. Twenty yards—there are no shops there—I did not know him by sight—I next saw him in custody in King Street which leads into the New Cut—from the prosecutor's place, he turned round towards it again, went into the Cut again, and turned round Eaton Street again.
JOHN CHUTER (Policeman L 123). On 4th February, about twenty minutes to four in the afternoon, I went to 21, Windmill Row, where Hart lives—I saw a woman in the parlour, who told me she was Hart's wife, and I know they were living together, I have seen him there—I searched the house and while I was searching the parlour, I heard a window open upstairs—I went to the end of the passage and saw a man jump off the wall, at the book of 31, King Street, and 21, Windmill Row—the backs of the houses meet—I rushed
upstairs into the room Hart occupies—the door was open—I looked round to see if I could see anything relating to the robbery, but did not—I looked out at the window and saw a portion of this property in the yard of 31, King Street—you could step out of the window on to the wall—I went round, to 31 King Street, and there found this sack with this property in it—seven pieces of print, two pieces of scarlet flannel, and twelve towels—I took it to the station—I took Hart at six o'clock, coming out of a beer-shop at the corner of Windmill Row—I told him he would be charged with being concerned with a man named Tyndal in committing a burglary at Mr. Ackerman's in the New Cut—he said he knew nothing of it—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. R. N. PHILIPPS. Q. What sort of a house is this? A. It is a very bad neighbourhood, and when thieves get there you don't catch them very easily—three widow women live in it; each has a room; they are elderly women, and get their living by going out charing—no man lives in it but Hart, that I know of—I have been told that lots of young men live there, but I do not know it—there is only one floor—they are small houses—Hart's room is upstairs—there are four rooms, two above and two below—the two widows occupy two rooms, and Hart and his wife the other—the door was open—I found the things in a sack, except one piece of flannel and one piece of print.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Were you in uniform? A. In private clothes—I saw a bundle, partly on the right hand; it contained a piece of old print and some red flannel—Hart's wife was in the room, but the person who occupied the room was not at home—I went to him for it afterwards, and the bundle was gone, and the property too.
SUSANNAH SPILLER . I am the wife of Frederick Spiller—we occupy apartments at 31, King Street, Lambeth—the back yard of the house adjoins the back yard of 21, Windmill Row—on Tuesday afternoon, 4th February, I was going down the kitchen stairs with a pail; it might have been four o'clock or past, and I met Hart coming upstairs from the yard—I saw his face, and am sure he was there—I waited till he came back, and said, "Who are you looking for, young man?"—he made no answer, but went out at the front door, which was not closed—there is no gate between our yard and the yard of Windmill Row—as soon as he came to the top of the stairs I ran down as quick as I could into the back yard, and saw these things lying there, and after that a piece of red flannel and a striped print came over the wall from Hart's yard—I ran to the door calling "Stop thief! " and immediately went for a policeman.
Cross-examined by MR. R. N. PHILIPPS. Q. Whoever it was in a great hurry, I suppose? A. Yes—I saw the constable—I went to the station when the prisoner was in charge; I there said that I fancied he was the man.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Have you any doubt to-day that he is the man? A. No; I merely said so because I did not want to have anything to do with it—I have no doubt that that is the man, I have seen him often.
ARTHUR BROOKS . I am ten years old, and live with my father, at 31, King Street—I know Hart—on 4th February I saw him run out of Mrs. Spiller's front door, at about ten minutes past four o'clock—I then saw Mrs. Spiller go down stairs—she then came to the front door and called out.
Cross-examined by MR. R. N. PHILIPPS. Q. What part of the house
were you in? A. At the door, looking into the street—he ran by me as hard as he could; I got out of his way.
Hart's statement before the Magistrate:—I went out to work on Tuesday morning, about ten, to Mr. Bell's, Coveat Garden Market, and bought a dozen apple boxes—at three I went over the water, at Philpot Lane, and sold them to Mr. Foster at four, I received the money at a quarter past four, and came home about five o’clock, and my wife said, "There has been a row, and some theives have run through our house."
MR. R. N. PHILIPPS called
JOSEPH TIMBELLS . I am a packer at Mr. Foster's, 9, Philpot Lane, Eastcheap, two or three miles from the place in question—on 4th February Hart came there, about half-past three o'clock—I was busy behind the counter—he brought in sixteen large boxes that the governor had bought, and the foreman paid him for them—he spoke to me, and left about five minutes to four; I had not a watch to tell the time exactly.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Is your business rather an extensive one? A. Yes; it is my duty to get the goods up—there it a clock just over the counter, over my head—I had my back to it, and had no particular occasion to look at it that afternoon—I fix the time at five minutes to four because the governor was making up his accounts at half-past three, when Hart came, and the bank closes at four—it is the Consolidated, in Thread needle Street, some little way off—Hart said, "Can you take these cases in now?"—I said, "No, I cannot"—Harris was with him; they carry on business together—I have been there with my governor three years ago—we have bought boxes of him some considerable time—Harris has come with him pretty nearly every time—I sometimes take the account to the bank, but do not know who took it that day—I think the governor made up the accounts that day on a desk in the shop—Mr. Colt, the foreman, paid them in the shop for the boxes—he is not here—Harris had one of these van boxes with him—there were sixteen boxes.
COURT. Q. Had your employer finished making up his accounts before the prisoner left? A. Yes; because he went into the counting-house after he had made up his slip note—I saw nobody leave with the cash before the prisoner left.
JURY. Q. When did you first hear anything which made it important to recollect when the men were at your house? A. About a week afterwards; his brother came to the shop and told me.
CHARLES HARRIS . I live at 9, Windmill Row—Hart and I work together, and sell boxes—I was with him all day on Tuesday, the 4th—I went with him to Mr. Foster's with some boxes on a barrow—we got there about a quarter past three, and left at five or ten minutes to four—we went into the shop, and saw Nicholls—I have frequently been there, and know him very well—the boxes were paid for—we got back as near six as possible.
Cross-examined. Q. Where does Hart reside? A. In Windmill Road, further down, on the other side of the way—I do not know hie number—I have been in business with him three years—I have been in the habit of supplying Messrs. Foster with boxes, and other large firms—ours is only a winter partnership—I am a general dealer—in the summer he does not assist me then—on the morning of the 4th I went out at half-past nine to Covent Garden—I was at the police court when the prisoners were committed—I
was examined—I did not hear Hart make his statement—I was outside, and was not called in before the case was over—I was examined—I went to the police-court to see how Hart got on, and he called on me—he was not out on bail between the first examination and the second—he did not call on me to go to the first examination—he did not think he was going to be detained—I have that from people about the court—I went up there because I thought he would call upon me—it is a fact that I went to Bell's, in Covent Garden, with Hart—we bought twelve boxes, and we took sixteen—I do not carry a watch, nor does Hart, but I looked at the clock at Messrs. Foster's; it was a quarter past three, and the parties said we should have to wait—it might have been later—we left Covent Garden about twelve o'clock, and I went to our stable, where we mend the boxes—we left the stable between one and two—it is in Windmill Street, near my house—I was not at my house again in the middle of the day—I live in Windmill Row—we did not go from Windmill Street to Foster's—we went to a public-house, and had some beer—we knew it was too soon to go to Foster's—we next went to buy some more boxes—after we left Foster's we went to get some more boxes to cooper up till next day—we did not get home till six—I recollect that particular day, because it was Tuesday, the 4th of the month—we go to Messrs. Foster's twice or three times a week, and sometimes once a week—I have supplied him with boxes since—I did not go there again the same week—I went twice last week—I cannot say whether I went there the week before 4th February; I might—I recollect 4th February, because it was the night the prisoner was taken.
TYNDAL— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court in January, 1863, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
HART— NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
297. HENRY ROSE CHANT (43), GEORGE ROBINSON (58), and DONALD MACKAY (29) , Stealing one dressing case, containing a foreign coin and other articles, and 40l. in money, the property of Many Ann James Hilliard, the mistress of Chant, in her dwelling-house. Second Count—charged Robinson and Mackay with receiving.
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALFE defended Chant.
MARY ANN JAMES HILLIARD . I am a widow, and live at Richmond—the prisoner Chant was my butler for about two months—he was under warning, and was to have left the week after the robbery—I had a rosewood dressing case, which I kept locked in my bedroom—it had a Bramah lock, and could not well have been broken open—I kept the key in my pocket—I saw it last on Tuesday, 4th February—I left in it three 10l. notes, the numbers of which I have in my pocket, and a 5l. note, the number of which I cannot tell, because it was one of a series—this paper has the numbers of the notes upon it—it was written by me, not from the notes themselves but from a letter from Coutt's—I received three 10l. notes from Coutt's, and I can swear number sixty-seven was in my case—I do not know the numbers by heart, I should have to look to tell you—I made this just after the robbery—I knew what I had, but I had not written it down—I know the series, I received them from Coutts's on the 14th January, in the morning, by post, in a registered letter—I also had five or six sovereigns in the case, and a cross and other articles—I did not personally miss the case till the Wedne
day evening after the robbery, and nobody had said a word to me about it—I instantly gave information to the police—the prisoner came to me on the Monday, the day before the robbery—he spoke first of all about the next house—he said, "Do you think anybody sleeps in it"—I said, "No, I do not think they do"—he said, "Do not you think anybody might get in from over the wall to your house and rob you"—I said, "I do not—there is a man with a gun sleeps in the next house but one, I should think they would hardly dare"—I said something of that sort on purpose—he was very anxious to go out that day to arrange some matters for himself, and in the afternoon he said to me, "My windows have been blown in, I want to go and see about them"—I said, "You had time to see about that on Saturday or Sunday, why now?"—he said, "I want to go, I wish very much to go, I will give up going home on Wednesday if I may go to-day"—I said that he might go—that was the evening before the robbery—we were at dinner in the breakfast room, on the evening of the robbery, from half-past five to half-past six—after that I had a little study with the German master, and we took coffee there—it is impossible that anybody could have broken in without my hearing them, and I had my dog with me; a most extraordinary watchdog, who would have heard any stranger's footsteps—Chant came to the door to fetch the dog about seven—he whistled for him, and after that I ordered coffee—after he brought the coffee up, he took the dog out, and then, instead of waiting to clear away, which was his duty, he rushed out with the dog, and left the housemaid to clear away the coffee—he seemed in a great hurry to get out—that was a little after seven—he returned about eight or a quarter-past—I recollect hearing him go upstairs, while at dinner—I wanted him to open a bottle of champagne—he was upstairs so long that I asked him why he had been away so long—he said, "I have taken the bottle down in the kitchen to open it"—I said, "No, you have not, the bottle is there"—he had come from upstairs then, not from downstairs—he had no business at all upstairs—he said, in his defence, that a staymaker had come; that is not true, for it was on Monday she came—I had no fire in my dressing-room; I had ordered him to let it out—he knew that I kept money in my dressing-cade, because he had always seen me open it to pay the tradespeople; and he knew where it stood, because he had been into my room occasionally to fix the blinds, and such things—I know Robinson—he brought my dog home, and got 20s. for it—I said, "Who are you?"—he said, "A waiter"—and when my servant came home, I said, "Your friend, George Robinson, brought my dog home; I think he enticed him away"—he said, "Oh! no, he is not a man to entice the dog way, he is too respectable"—I gave him Warning in consequence of that, though I did not tell him so—all the silver ornaments were on the toilet table untouched.
Chant. Q. I never asked you the question respecting persons coming in from the next house? A. On my oath, you did.
ELIZAEBETH GODDARD . I am housemaid to Mrs. Hilliard—on the 4th February, I was at work in her bedroom—there was a dressing-case there—about four o'clock, I went to my tea, and left the dressing-case quite safe—about half-past five, or six, I went up to close the room—it was still there—I went up again about a quarter to ten—it was gone then—I did not tell Mrs. Hilliard, because she was going out the next day, and I thought she had put it away somewhere—I spoke to her on the Wednesday—I recollect Chant going out with the dog directly after seven o'clock on the
evening of the 4th—I am also very particular in bolting the windows, and I am positive to doing so—on the Wednesday morning, when I went in to call Mrs. Hilliard, I observed the window open; that was about twenty minutes to eight—it must have been opened from the inside, because no one could open it from the outside—the shutters were still closed, and the curtains pinued as I left them—all the things were on the table, just as I had left them—the silver articles and everything was there—on the morning of the 4th Chant borrowed a shilling of me—that was at dinner time, he said he wanted to get something for the cook—it is impossible that anyone could have entered the house without me knowing it—I recollect Chant going up stairs, about seven o'clock, some minutes before he went out—the dog was in the kitchen waiting for him—the coffee had gone up, and I thought he had gone up to tell Miss Wheatley, who was in the drawing-room—the bedroom is on a level with the drawing-room—I know he was up stairs as high as the drawing-room—and he remained there a few minutes after Miss Wheatley came down stairs.
CHANT.Q. You said at the police-court that the shutters were not closed? A. They were just a little open—you did not come down before Miss Wheatley, you stayed up after her that night—it was your business to go up to her.
MRS. HILLIARD (re-examined). I did not open the window at all, and did not even know it was open.
BALANCHE WHEATLEY . I reside at Mrs. Hilliard's—on the 4th February, the night of the robbery, about ten minutes past seven, I went up into the bed-room, and I missed the dressing-case—the space that it had occupied was filled up with books—at dinner time, about half-past six, Chant came up—he stayed up a long time—he had no occasion to be there, because Mrs. Hilliard told him to let the fire out—I was present when she said it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see Chant go up stairs? A. I heard him—no other man was in the house, and I know his footstep—I did not see him—I missed the box about ten minutes or a quarter past seven, not later—I did not tell Mrs. Hilliard, for I thought most likely she had put it away, as we were going out the next day—she called me on the Wednesday evening, and said her dressing-case was gone—it was always kept on the drawers in her bed-room—the only servants who lived in the house were the cook, the housemaid, and Chant—the cook served up the dinner, and afterwards went out about half-past six—I dined with Mrs. Hilliard at half-past six—the butler waited on us all the time, except when he went up stairs and stayed sometime—that was while we were at dinner, we were waiting for him—the cook came back that evening before ten—she has left now—she was to leave on the Wednesday, on account of the robbery—she left on the Thursday—her time was up on the Wednesday—she had given Mrs. Hilliard notice a month previous—I know where she lives—she is not here—she is living in New Richmond, in lodgings—she is not going out again, so she says—she had lived, since November, with us—Chant and she did not agree—she said she was leaving because she did not like to be with Chant.
PERCY HENRY MICHOD . I live at Sussex Villas, Richmond, and am a clerk at Coutts's—on 13th January I enclosed 100l. to the prosecutrix in a registered letter—there was a 50l. note and five 10l. notes, numbered from 74, 666 to 70.
back of the house, and found no traces of anyone having got in from the outside—on the following morning I examined the adjoining house, with the same result—the windows are about twenty-six feet from the ground—I searched Chant, and found 16s. 4d. in silver and a pair of gloves on him—I produce a 10l. note, which I got from Mrs. Groves.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the next house empty? A. Yes—there is a back kitchen, the roof of which was near the windows of that room—it was built to the next house—a man could get from the roof of the kitchen up to the window with assistance, on to the balconies in front of the windows—it is about four yards from the roof to the windows—a man could get up by means of a ladder or plank—the window was a little way open.
JOHN CHANDLER . I am a fly-driver at Richmond—on 4th February, a little before nine, the prisoner Mackay came to me in the Railway yard, and waited to be driven to Brentford—while I was talking to him Robinson came across the road from the Railway Taven, and said it would be a crown in my way if I would drive—I agreed to take them—I know the Blue Anchor at Richmond, that is about half a mile from where we started—when we got there Richardson told me to pull up, and we a pot of ale between the three—we pulled up again at the Rose and Crown—Robinson asked me to get down and get change for a 5l. note—I said, "No, we will all three go in"—we then drove to Kew Bridge—on our way to Richmond Robinson told me to keep straight on to Twickenham Green—we stopped at the Pack Horse, at the entrance of Twickenham Green—Mackay got out of the cab first, and I saw a 5l. note in his hand—he went into the Pack Horse, and came out again with the note—he told Robinson he could not get it changed, and had paid for the drink himself—Richardson had got two 10l. notes in his hands in the cab, and he asked me to drive to a draper's to get shirts and stockings, and I said, "No, I will go back to Richmond"—I did not drive them there—I afterwards drove home with them—I saw two 10l. notes whilst at Twickenham Green—on the road home we all three called at the Shaftesbury Arms, at Richmond—Robinson gave me a 10l. note, and said I was to get some ale and change the note—I went into the Shaftesbury Arms, but could not change it; I returned it to Robinson, and he gave me a 6d.—I then drove to the Railway Tavern; we had some drink there—Robinson produced a 10l. note, and asked Mrs. Groves to change it; she did so—I then drove them to the Bricklayers' Arms, New Richmond, and left them—when I said I would return I heard Mackay say, "Let him change it in Richmond."
Robinson. The cabman knows very well I picked them up in the street. Witness. No, not then.
Mackay. It is all the truth what he states.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know Robinson before? A. Yes, I had known him years—he has been a waiter at the Star and Garter, at Richmond—he has been a jobbing waiter up to the present time—he generally goes for the season, and sometimes he is out for a little while—he also goes to gentlemen's houses to wait.
MARGARET GROVES . I am the wife of Nicholas Groves, the proprietor of the Railway Tavern—on 4th February I saw Mackay and Robinson there together about nine or ten o'clock—Mackay looked into the house, and called for three sixes of brandy; immediately after Mackay, Robinson, and the cabman came in—Robinson offered to pay for the brandy, and took a note out of his pocket, and said, "I want you to change a 5l. note"—i
looked at it and said, "My good man, it is a 10l. note"—I gave him the change, and on the Friday I gave the note to the constable—the number was 74, 667—I know the prisoners as customers—I asked Robinson to leave part of the money in my hands, as I knew he was not capable of taking care of so much—he refused to do so—I told the cab-driver to be sure and drive him home, and he said, "Yes"—I gave Robinson a 5l. note in change for the 10l., and told him to put it in his pocket—there were two men in the public-house—one saw a piece of paper on the ground, and was going to light his pipe with it—he said, "I think the man has dropped it"—he ran after Robinson, and gave it to him outside—it was the 5l. note I had given in change.
EMILY WEATHERLY . My husband keeps the Bricklayers' Arms, at Kew Road—Mackay has lived with us four years—on 4th February I saw Mackay and Robinson at the bar—I think it was between six and seven—Robinson came in and called Mackay out—I saw a 10l. note in his hands, and Mackay told me afterwards that Robinson called him out to ask me to change it—Mackay had not left the house before during the day—I refused to change the note.
Mackay. Q. Are you aware I was in your house all day? A. Yes; you were helping my husband to take down a chandelier.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know the Star and Garter? A. Yes; I have lived there for some time—Richardson has worked there for some years in the season—he was there last season—Chant has also worked there—he was there last season—I think I have known him there four or five years—he has borne a very good character—I have no doubt he would have been employed there this season—he would have access to plenty of plate there—the direction they took on the Petersham Road would take them home—I saw them come from towards Mrs. Hilliard'e house to go towards Chant's home.
MRS. HILLIARD (re-examined). Chant sleeps in the house, except twice a week, when I allow him to go home—his wife lives at Ham.
JOHN CROUCH . I keep the Crooked Billet, at Ham—I know Chant—I have seen Robinson with him—I cannot swear which day they were together at my house—it was either the 4th or 5th, between eleven and one.
Cross-examined. Q. That is near Chant's house, is it not, where his wife lives? A. Yes; close by—they were only in my house five minutes—I do not know which direction they came from—I did not see them come in—I know Chant's child was ill.
MRS. HILLARD (re-examined). I sent the prisoner with a letter to Major Hall, at Petersham, on the Tuesday, between ten and eleven, directly after breakfast—the Star and Garter is about five minutes' walk from Major Hall's house; but you would not go past there; you would go over the Petersham Fields—you would not go up the hill.
Mackay's Defence. I do not know anything of the robbery. I never had anything to do with such a job in my life. I do not know where the lady lives. I have not been up the hill for months and months.
MR. LEWIS stated that he should not ask for a verdict against MACKAY—
NOT GUILTY .CHANT received a good character.— GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecutrix. — Nine Months imprisonment .
ROBINSON— GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
298. ROBERT DUNSLEY (24), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Herbert Halloway, at Lambeth, and stealing therein one tea-pot, six spoons, three table-cloths, and other articles, his property.— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED WALLIS . I am potman, at the Britannia, Tooley Street—I remember serving the prisoner with half-a-pint of beer and one pennyworth of tobacco—I cannot say the date—they came to 2d.—he gave me a florin, which I put in the till, and gave him 1s. 10d. change—about half an hour afterwards I went to the till, and found one florin in it, a bad one—I chipped it, and threw it in the dust-bin—I had put no other florin in the till during that time, nor had anybody else—I had been in the bar all the time—about a week afterwards I saw the prisoner in front of the bar, and said to my master, "That is him, sir"—I am sure he is the man who gave me the florin; he was given in custody.
Prisoner. I was never in the house before.
SOPHIA COOK . I am the wife of George Cook, manager of the Britannia—I remember Wallis chopping up a sovering on the Friday before the prisoner was taken in custody—I served him with half a pint of beer and a pennyworth of tobacco—it came to twopence—he gave me a florin—I gave him the change, and put it in the till—there was no other florin there—about five minutes afterwards I was going to pay away a florin, and found one in the till—I had put no other florin in in the meantime, and no one else was serving in the bar—I found it was bad, and gave it to my husband, who gave it back to me—I put it in my puree, apart from other money—on the Monday following I saw the prisoner in front of the bar—I knew him again—he asked for two pennyworth of peppermint—I served him—he gave me a bad florin—I showed it to my husband—he gave the prisoner in custody with the florin, and I gave the constable the florin out of my purse.
GEORGE COOK . I am manager of the Britannia—my wife brought me a bad florin—I went to the bar, and said to the prisoner "This is a bad florin; do you know it is not the first time you have passed a bad florin here, and I shall give you in charge?"—he made no remark, and I gave him in custody.
JOSEPH HONER . The prisoner was given into my custody on the 27th, and I received a florin from Mr. Cook, and another from Mrs. Cook—I only found a penny on the prisoner—he said he was not aware the florin was bad.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent, I had only derenpence all day long.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
with half a pound of sugar and an ounce of tea—the price was 3½d., she gave me a florin—I gave her the change—I gave the florin to the cashier, Mr. Rowe—ho brought it hack to me in a very few minutes—I then found it was bad—I returned it to him, and he kept it—the prisoner came again on the 4th for one ounce of tea and half pound of sugar—the price was 3½d.—she gave me another bad florin—I said "It is bad"—she said she did not know it was bad, she got it from a man in the street—I told her that she came in the shop and passed a bad one on the Saturday previous—she said she was not in the shop—I am sure she is the person who came in on the 1st—I marked the florin and gave it to the constable.
COURT. Q. Did you recognize her when she first came in? A. Yes, before she asked for the goods—that was what lead me to examine the second florin.
EDMUND HENRYT ROWE . I am cashier to Mr. Carter—on 1st February the last witness brought me a florin, and I gave him the chauge—I took threepence halfpenny out of two shillings—I then looked at the florin, and found it was bad—I called Grange, showed it to him, kept it till the evening, and then took it upstairs, marked it, and gave it to a Mrs. Lewis—I should know it again—this is it (produced)—when the prisoner was given into custody on the 4th, Mrs. Lewis gave it to the constable.
GEORGE COLLINS (Policeman P 42). On the night of 4th February, the prisoner was given into my custody—she said she was not aware the money was bad—she sold a pair of cuffs to a man in the street, and gave him sixpence in halfpence and a sixpence, and he gave her the bad florin, and she had not been in the shop before—I produce two florins—I received one from Grange, and the other from Mr. Rowe—I only found two pairs of cuffs on her.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment .
MR. POLAND conducted the Prosecution.
ARTHUR HENRY PARSONS . I am apprentice to Mr. Penny, a draper in the Wandsworth Road—on Thursday, 6th February, about a quarter to five in the afternoon, I served the prisoner with a twopenny piece of braid—she gave me 1s., and I gave her the change, and put the 1s. in the till—there were no other shillings there—in about ten minutes she came in again for a second piece of black braid—she gave me a 1s., and I found it was bad—I did not say anything, but knocked for Mr. Penny, and showed it to him—he asked her where she got it from—she said she had been out all day, and picked it up—I said, "She was in just before, and passed another one, which I think is just as bad"—I gave the 1s. to Mr. Penny, and she snatched it out of his hand—I went for a policeman—Mr. Penny went to the till afterwards, and found 1s. in it—from the time the prisoner came in the first time until she came the second time no other shillings had been put in the till—this is the light braid that I sold her first, and this is the black.
WILLIAM BROUGHAM PENNY . I am a draper—on Thursday, 6th February, the last witness knocked for me to go into the shop; I went, and saw the prisoner there—in her presence Parsons told me to take 2d. out of a 1s. for a piece of braid, and that he thought it was bad—I found it was bad, and
cut it with the scissors—Parsons told me in her hearing that he had taken another shilling previously from her—I asked her where she lived—she said in Westminster, and was going to meet her husband somewhere at Deptford—I sent Parsons for a policeman—just as he was going away she snatched it out of my hand, and tried to make off out of the shop—I stopped her—I examined the till when the constable came, and found a bad shilling in it—I gave it to the constable, and gave her into custody—she said she had nothing on her.
HENRY LANSDALE (Policeman W 259). I was sent for to go to Mr. Penny's shop, on Thursday, the 6th, and the prisoner was given into my custody for passing two counterfeit shillings—Mr. Parsons gave me one, and said the prisoner had snatched the other from him while he was in the act of cutting it—she said she had not got it—I asked her to turn her pocket out—she did so—there was a little tea and sugar, and nothing else in it—she handed me a puree, which contained a good shilling and a good sixpence and fivepence in coppers—I took her to the station—on the way I beard something fall, I looked down, and found this bad shilling lying close by her feet.
Prisoner's Defence.—I only went into the shop once—I have been in the habit of hawking about the streets for the last eighteen years.
GUILTY .— Six Months Imprisonment .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, APRIL 6TH.