CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
ELEVENTH SESSION, HELD SEPTEMBER 21ST, 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, September 21st, 1868, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. WILLIAM FERNELEY ALLEN, LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir HENRY SINGER KEATING, Knt., one of the Justices of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; Sir FRANCIS GRAHAM MOON, Bart., F.S.A., Sir ROBERT WALTER CARDEN, Knt., WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M.P., and WARREN STORMES HALE, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon.RUSSELL GURNEY, Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS DAKIN, Esq., ROBERT BESLEY, Esq., WILLIAMS JAMES RICHMOND COTTON, Esq., JOSEPH CAUSTON, Esq., and THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM KERR, L.L.D., Esq., Judge of the Sheriff's Court; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
WILLIAM MC ARTHUR, Esq.
SEPTIMUS DAVIDSON, Esq.
CHARLES MILLS ROCHE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
ALLEN, MAYOR ELEVENTH 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 denotes the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, September 21st, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. KENEALEY, Q.C., for the Prosecution, offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. POLAND the Defence.
GEORGE VICTOR MORGAN . I am clerk to Mr. Cannon—he is a newspaper proprietor—on 8th June I went to Mr. Elworthy's office and bought one of these pamphlets, in Crown Court, Threadneedle Street—that is the address on the pamphlet—I bought it of a clerk in the office—I paid 2s. 6d. for it—I paid for another, but did not get it.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not see Mr. Elworthy there? A. No.
WILLIAM HENRY PHILLIPS . I am foreman to Messrs. Wyman, and have been so for some time—they have a printing establishment at Great Queen Street, Lincoln's Inn Fields, under the name of Wyman & Son—I know Albert Henry Elworthy—he brought me the manuscript of this pamphlet to print—I afterwards sent it back to him—we at first printed 250 copies, and afterwards printed a second edition of 250 from a corrected copy which he brought—he took part with him, and the remainder we sent to him at 2, Crown Court—from the time of receiving the manuscript until the issue of
the second edition about three weeks elapsed—I did not look over this thing—I told Messrs. Wyman that Mr. Elworthy had brought a job to be done—Mr. Edward Wyman was present when he gave me the manuscript, so I had no occasion to tell him—he saw that I took the manuscript—I did not tell him the nature of the contents—I did not look to see—I saw the title, "Persecutions of a Solicitor," when I gave it out to the workmen to be composed—I did not even read the preface—neither of the defendants took the pamphlet into his hands—I said nothing to them about the second edition—there is no person specially appointed to see that the things going through the press are fit to be issued, we look to the reader to do that—he corrects the grammatical errors for the press, after the type is set up—we should expect him to draw attention to anything specially obscene or Libellous—the manuscript was returned to Mr. Elworthy—that was not for the purpose of his correcting the copy, we corrected the proofs before we sent it out—it was done by the reader—he is not now in the establishment—he has several times called attention to matters that were specially libellous and obscene—I made an entry in the books of the receipt of the manuscript—we have not received the money yet.
Cross-examined. Q. Does Mr. Edward Wyman attend to the counting—house department? A. Yes—they are very large printers—they print the "Builder," "Public Opinion," the "London Review," and a number of papers and books—it would be quite impossible for gentlemen conducting a printing establishment to read everything themselves—a good deal of printer's work is done at night, and under pressure—the price of printing this pamphlet would be about 10l.; the profit would be almost a question of shillings—we employ 150 hands and sometimes more—we had done some law printing for Mr. Elworthy about eighteen months previously—he was not a stranger—I knew he was a solicitor—these pamphlets were to be printed in a hurry—the manuscript was given into my hands on Thursday afternoon, Mr. Elworthy said it was in a great hurry, and I sent him a proof on the Saturday—there was about a fortnight between the two editions—I don't think either of the defendants ever saw the pamphlet while it was being printed, or were aware of its contents.
MR. METCALFE. Q. What do they do in the business? A. Mr. Edward Wyman looks after the counting-house—he makes out the accounts—he would go over the books and see the entries—he attends to financial matters exclusively—Mr. Charles attends to the working department of the printing office—he receives the work and gives it out to the men—he is the head person—Mr. Elworthy did not tell me why he was in a hurry for these—I did not know that he had been convicted—I knew nothing about the trials that had taken place—I did not ask him whether they were his persecutions—he was not asked by Mr. Edward in my presence—at this time Mr. Charles Wyman was very much engaged in bringing out a new directory—Mr. Edward would not, in the ordinary course of things see the entry of the manuscript—I should give him the figures from which he would make out the account.
THOMAS CANNON . I have been connected with the press as a reporter for more than twenty years, and am a newspaper proprietor as well—I had to prosecute Elworthy for perjury—he was convicted, and escaped by a technicality—I am the person mentioned in the pamphlet—it has affected me very materially—I was always able to earn 400l. or 500l. a year as a law reporter, and reporter in the Houses of Parliament, and I have lost every
shilling's worth of that business since—the pamphlet has been circulated very selectedly, and just in places where it would do me most harm—I have seen it at all sorts of places—Mr. Stanley, the defendants' attorney, appeared for them before the Magistrate, and he cross-examined me as to the truth of the contents of the pamphlet in a most insulting manner for three hours, till at last the Magistrate stopped him, and said he should not allow such questions to be put.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not Mr. Charles Wyman make a statement to the Magistrate, and apologize publicly in Court? A. He made a statement; he said he knew nothing of it personally—I don't call it an apology—whatever he said is in the depositions—I don't remember what he said.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Was that before or after the Magistrate had stopped his attorney in his Cross-examination? A. On the following examination, a week afterwards. (Portions of the pamphlet were read in the opening).
NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAM HENRY PHILLIPS proved the publication, as in the former case, and at the defendants request the pamphlet was read in full. It contained comments before the previous trials, both of Cannon and himself, and alleging gross perjury and conspiracy on the part of Cannon. In his defence he reiterated this statement, and described his pamphlet as a necessary vindication of his conduct.
GUILTY.—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on the ground of great provocation received. Two Months' Imprisonment, and to enter into hit own recognizances in 100l. to Keep the Peace for Twelve Months.
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
SARAH SMITH . I am the wife of William Smith, a coffee house keeper, at 69, Haggerstone Road—on 4th September the prisoner came about 7.45, for half a pint of coffee and two slices of bread and butter—he gave me a florin and I spoke to my husband—he said it was bad, and he told the prisoner he must give him another—he said he had no more about him—I saw him fidgeting about when my husband was speaking to him—on the Monday following we received some information and my brother-in-law searched the place where the prisoner had been sitting on the Friday, and found two florins wrapped up in a piece of newspaper—I gave the first florin he uttered to the constable.
WILLIAM SMITH . On 4th September, a little before 8 in the morning, the prisoner was in my coffee house—my wife came to me and gave me a counterfeit florin—I tried it and went to the prisoner and told him it was bad—I asked who he was, and he said he was a butcher and worked for a person named Gater, in Brick Lane—I called a constable and gave him into custody—a few days after a communication was made to me and I searched the box where the prisoner had been sitting—I found nothing at first, and then William Wilkins searched and I saw him find two bad florins behind the settle, wrapped up in a piece of newspaper, exactly in the same place where the prisoner had been sitting—I gave these to the constable.
WILLIAM WILKINS . I live at 32, Leath Street Kingsland Road, and am the brother-in-law of the prosecutor—on Monday, 6th September, I helped to search one of the boxes—I found a piece of paper pushed down very tightly, and I could not pull it down, Mr. Smith helped me get it out; it contained these two bad florins—I gave them to the constable—it was the prisoner's father who came and gave the information.
He further Pleaded Guilty to a previous conviction for a like offence—Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES BRANNAN . I am a constable employed by the Mint—on 9th September I went to Chiswell Street with several other officers—I saw the prisoner come across the street followed by Inspectors Broad and Brannan—I pointed him out to Miller and another officer, and one of them seized him—Miller went in front, and I saw him seize his left hand and take a bad florin from it—I said "Bob, I suppose I need not go through the form of telling you whom I am"—he said "All right, Uncle, it was all through that b——cow"—I said "Who do you allude to?"—he said "All right, Uncle, you have got me straight this time"—I saw the constable take from his waistcoat pocket a packet containing two bad florins, and another packet containing six wrapped up with paper between them—I said "Well, Bob, I suppose I need not tell you that they are bad," and he said "You have got me straight"—he was then taken to the station—I charged him with having nine counterfeit florins in his possession with intent to utter them—he said "I have nine points against me now for a conviction, and if they convict me now I expect I shall get a long bit"—I knew his address and sent officers to his place.
Prisoner. Q. Did you ever find any counterfeit coin on me in your life? A. No—no one told me you were in Chiswell Street—I saw you followed by the officers, and gave the signal to the other constables, and pointed you out to them.
WILLIAM MILLER (Policeman G 48). I was with last witness, and seized the prisoner's left hand, and took a florin from it, and two packets from his waistcoat pocket, containing bad florins, and gave them to Mr. Brannan—the evidence of Brannan is correct.
Prisoner's Defence. I saw a woman drop a parcel and I picked it up; the officers took me into custody.
He further PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction, *†— Five Years; Penal Servitude .
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
for 31bs. of potatoes, which came to 21/2d.—she paid with a 5s. piece—I found it was bad, marked it, and afterwards gave it to the constable—I told her it was bad, and she said she did not know it was—she then called to a young man on the opposite side of the road, "George," and he ran away—the prisoner had been to my shop about three weeks before, she then bought a pennyworth of potatoes, and paid with a bad shilling—I gave her 11d. change for it, and found it-was bad afterwards—I gave it to my wife, she give it me again on the 15th August, and I gave it to the constable—I knew the prisoner again when she came in the second time, and that caused me to try it.
ELLEN BUSH . I am the wife of the last witness—about three weeks before the 15th August, the prisoner came to my shop—my husband served her with some potatoes—she paid with a shilling—after she had left, my husband gave me the shilling, and I found it was a bad one—I wrapped it in paper, put it away in a drawer, and afterwards spoke to a constable about it.
CHARLES BROWN (Policeman K 87). I took the prisoner in charge—she said she did not know the crown was bad—I received the crown and shilling from the constable on the same day—she said she did not believe it was the are 5s. piece she had given.
Prisoner's Defence. He was about twenty minutes before he told me it was bad. I was not in the shop before.
GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment .
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY.
771. JOHN MARTINI (35) , to three indictments for stealing one ring of Hirsch Landsberry, eleven handkerchiefs of George Bradshaw, and one eyeglass of Edward George Wood, having been before convicted on 20th April, 1863**— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Eight Years' Penal Servitude .
773. CHARLES MONK (43) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of George William Wilson, and stealing 11b. weight of cigars**— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Five Years' Penal Servitude.
776. GEORGE DURRAND (38) , to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of John William Tyler, and stealing forty-eight brooches and other articles— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. And
777. JOHN COX (19) , to burglariously breaking and entering the warehouse of William Bryant, and stealing 182 shirts and one waistcoat, and also to having been before convicted on 6th August, 1866*— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, September 22nd, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED COLE . I keep the Prince Regent public-house, in Seymour Place, Bryanston Square—on 3rd September, about 11 o'clock at night, the prisoner came to my house with a companion—I served him with a pint of half-and-half, which came to 2d.—he tendered me a shilling—I gave him the change, and put the shilling in the till where there was no other moon but a sixpence—my niece, who was serving in the bar, afterwards gave me a bad shilling, and said in the prisoner's presence that he had given it to her—I found it was bad—the prisoner ran out of the house, I ran after him, brought him back, and gave him in charge, and handed the shilling to the police.
ELLEN ELIZA BALLARD . I am the niece of last witness—on 3rd September, I was serving in the bar—I saw the prisoner come in, and saw my uncle serve him, and saw him put the shilling in the till—some little while after, as my uncle was attending to someone else, the prisoner called for a screw of tobacco, and gave me a bad shilling—I bent it and told him it was bad—he said he did not know it was bad—while I was talking to my uncle about it, the prisoner went out—my uncle followed and took him into custody.
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
ALBERT LAYTON . I am shopman to Partridge & Co., stationers, of Chancery Lane—on 10th July there the prisoner came for a half-quire of note paper, and gave me a bad 2s. piece—I called a constable and gave her into Custody, and handed the florin to the policeman—she was taken to the Police Court, remanded, and discharged.
JAMES MASON . I am assistant at a Post Office in New Bond Street—on Monday, 31st August, between 3 and 4 o'clock in the afternoon, the prisoner came for 5s. worth of postage stamps—she put down a half-crown, two shillings, and six pennyworth of coppers, in payment—she covered the silver with the coppers—I found the half-crown was bad—I broke it, and told her it was bad—she said she was not aware of it—she said she had come for the stamps for her mother—I gave her the half-crown back—she then said she would only have 4s. worth, and she gave me a 2s. piece in exchange—I followed her to the door, and saw a man opposite, who I thought was connected with her—I gave her into custody, and she was brought back.
Prisoner. He mixed my half-crown with a lot more silver. Witness. I did not: the half-crown never left my hand.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARRIS the Defence.
CHARLES HALL . I am a tobacconist, and live at 10, Sarah's Place—on 28th August, about 8.30, the prisoner came to my shop—I served him with two cigars, or rather he helped himself—he paid me with a florin—there was a dispute as to whether he had taken two or three cigars—I gave him 1s. 6d. and 41/2d. change—he held his hand out, and said, "Governor, you have made a mistake, I have only had two cigars"—I said, "I beg your pardon," and gave him 11/2d. more—before he had passed over the door step I tried the florin in the detector, and it gave way—I said, "hoy"—he took no heed but went out directly—I sent my daughter after him, and I went after him—I saw them talking together—he turned to go on—I went up to him and took hold of him, and said, "We must come back and talk about this"—he went back with me—I took up the florin, and said, "This is a queer piece of stuff you have given me"—he said, "Not me"—I said, "Yes you, and no mistake, and I gave you 1s. 9d. change"—he said, "Oh, I have no change about me'—he put his hand into his left-hand pocket and pulled out a handful of coppers, and said, "That is all the change I have got"—I said, "Yes, and there is the 1s. 6d. among the copper"—he still persisted that he had never been in the shop before—he first said, "I paid you for the cigars," and then he said he had never been in the shop—I sent my daughter for an officer, and gave him in charge with the florin.
Cross-examined. Q. How far had he got when your daughter overtook him? A. About the length of this Court—he came back without any hesitation—he seemed to be a little fresh, but I think it was only a performance.
CATHERINE HALL . I saw the prisoner give my father the florin—directly he left my father told me to go after him—I did so—he had got a few doors from the shop—I told him to come back, father wanted to speak to him—he said, "What is the matter?"—my father came up, and they went into the shop together—I was sent for a constable.
JAMES WHITING (Policeman N 38). I was called and took the prisoner into custody—I found 2s. 6d., good money, and this counterfeit shilling in his waistcoat pocket—I shewed him the shiling—he said he did not know anything about it, it did not belong to him—he pulled a handful of money from his left trousers pocket; there was 1s. 6d. in silver, and 8d. in copper, good money—in his coat pocket I found these three cigars, two of which Mr. Hall identified.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner the worse for drink? A. He appeared so when I first took him, but on the way to the station he forgot himself, apparently, and was quite sober—he said Hall had made a mistake in the man, and he should let him know it—I have made inquiries about him—I am not aware that he has ever been convicted or charged.
GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
Road—on 29th August the prisoner came there for half a pint of porter, and paid me with a shilling—I took it to my uncle, and he came out.
WILLIAM CHRISTOPHER LORCHER . I keep a beer-shop at 247, Goswell Road—on 29th August my niece brought me a bad shilling—I went to the bar, and saw the prisoner there, and put the shilling on the counter—he said, "I have good money," and he tendered a good half-crown—I gave him change, and sent for a constable, but I allowed him to go.
JOSEPHINE LAMBERT . I live at the Foxand French Horn public-house, Clerkenwell Green—on 3rd of September the prisoner came there for half a pint of porter, and gave me a shilling—I tried it, it was bad—I took it to my father in the bar-parlour, and gave it to him—he came into the bar and gave it back to the prisoner; he bent it, and he paid with a good half-crown—the shilling was lying on the counter for some time, at last one of the customers threw it out of doors.
JOSEPH LAMBERT . My daughter gave me a shilling, I went into the bar, tried it, and gave it back to the prisoner—I told him that I had had several bad shillings passed lately, and to tell his friends not to come to my shop again—he smiled, and gave me a good half-crown, and I gave him 2s. 5d. change—he left the bad shilling on the counter.
ANNIE ELIZABETH DARTER . I live at the Queen's Head public-house, St. John Street—on 3rd September, the prisoner came for half a pint of beer, and gave me a shilling in payment—I gave him a sixpence and 5d. change—I handed the shilling to my mother.
ANNE DARTER . My daughter gave me a shilling, I tried it with my teeth and found it was bad; the prisoner had then left the bar—I ran out after him, and told a man who was keeping a stall outside to run after him—he was brought back by a policeman, and I gave him the shilling.
CHARLES PREETH . I live at 11, Fish Street, Red Lion Square—I saw the prisoner run down Cow Cross Street, followed by a man, who seized him—they had a wrestle, and rolled about on the road—a policeman came up and took the prisoner into custody—I saw a parcel lying on the pavement where they had been wrestling, I picked it up, and it contained half a dozen shilling, wrapped up nicely with tissue paper between them; I gave them to the constable.
GEORGE BEARD (Policeman G 231). I took the prisoner into custody, and received this shilling from Mr. Darter—I found on the prisoner 2s. 6d. in silver, and fourteen pence in copper—I received this packet from Preeth.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . The three utterings are bad, and two from one mould; the other six shillings are bad, and among them is one from the same mould as one of these shillings, and two from the same as the other two.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
ANN ELLIS . I am a widow, and keep a fancy repository at 241, Ball's Pond Road—on 1st of September the prisoner came for two packets of violet powder, which came to 2d.—he gave me a shilling, I gave him change and he left—after he had gone I tried the shilling, found it was bad, and threw
it in the dust hole—I took it out again on the Saturday following and gave it to the constable—the prisoner came again on the 2nd September, and bought two toys of my daughter; they came to 2d.—my daughter shewed me a half-crown, I proved it was bad, and my sister also, and I returned it to the prisoner, and told him it was bad—I also told him he had been there the day before and given me a bad shilling—he said he had never been there before—he went out of the shop, and I begged him not to come again—on the following Friday I saw him enter Mr. Russell's shop—I was sent for there, and asked, in his presence, if I had seen him before—I said, yes, he had been to my shop twice.
Cross-examined. Q. What did you do with the shilling when you received it? A. I laid it in the drawer where I usually kept money, but I put it by itself, so that I should know it when he was gone, as I was suspicious that it was bad—I took it out the moment he had gone, and gave it to my daughter; no customer had come in in the meantime—when I accused him at Mr. Russell's of passing the half-crown, he said he did not know it was bad.
MARY ANN ELLIS . On 1st September, my mother shewed me a bad shilling—next day the prisoner came in for two toys which came to twopence—he tendered a bad half-crown in payment—this is it—I shewed it to my aunt, and then gave it back to the prisoner—he did not buy the toys—my mother accused him of being there the day before; he said he had not.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it in consequence of what your aunt said that you thought the half-crown was bad? A. I was satisfied of it myself, but I wished to make no mistaken-ray aunt is an invalid—I have been accustomed to take money.
ELIZABETH RUSSELL . I live three or four doors from Mrs. Ellis with my brother, who is a draper. On 4th September, the prisoner came in for four paper collars and paid me with a bad shilling. I sent for a constable and gave it to him—Mrs. Ellis was sent for, and the prisoner was given into custody.
FRANK MAUNDERS . I am assistant to Mr. Russell—on 4th September, I saw the prisoner there—when he left I followed him and said, "You have passed a bad shilling in our shop, and it is not the first time you have done it in this neighbourhood"—he said, he did not know it was bad—he came back with me and I gave the shilling to the constable.
GEORGE WHITE (Policeman NR 21). I took the prisoner into custody—I received these shillings, one from Mr. Maunders and one from Mrs. Ellis—I found on the prisoner 1s. 6d., and three penny pieces, good money.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. COLLINS and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
ANN AMELIA TAYLOR . I am the daughter of John Taylor, who keeps the Red Cow's Calf beer shop—the prisoner came there on the 9th August with two females—he asked for a pint of six ale and a bottle of ginger beer, which came to 5d.—he tendered a bad 2s. piece—I sent for a constable and gave it to him.
ELIZA BOYCE . I am barmaid at the Australian New Zealander, in Oxford Street—the prisoner came there on 3rd September with three men, called for a pot of beer and paid me with a bad half-crown—I asked if he knew it was bad—he said, "No"—I asked him to give me other money—he gave me another half-crown—I gave him 2s. 2d. change, sent for a constable, and gave him in charge with the half-crown.
The prisoner in his defence stated that he had received the bad money amongst other money as the produce of the sale of a horse and cart at the New Cattle Market, and that he was not aware it was bad.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
THOMAS GOSLING . I am a draper, of 263, Holloway Road—on Wednesday, 9th September, about 9.15 in the evening, the prisoner came for a pair of stockings, they came to 81/2d.—he gave me a half crown, I gave him the change, and he left—I examined the half-crown directly he was gone, and found it was bad—I put it in my pocket, and afterwards gave it to the constable.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you seen the man before? A. Not to my knowledge—he was some time selecting the stockings—I did not like the feel of the half-crown, but I could not see distinctly—I afterwards put it in my desk—there was no other half-crown there—there was a cash box in the desk, and I put the money from the till in that after I have closed for the day—I had not cleared the till at that time—there was a young lady in the shop besides myself—she is not here.
MARTHA MERRITT . I am in the service of Mrs. Neighbour, a coffee home keeper, at Upper Street Islington—on Wednesday night the 9th September, the prisoner came in between 11 and 12 and went into No. 2 box—there was no one else there from the time he went in till he was taken into custody—there was a salt cellar there—I served him with a cup of tea and one slice of bread and butter; that would come to 2d.—he paid with a bad half-crown I spoke to my mistress and a man named Dawson.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you in the shop alone; A. My mistress was in the parlour—she could not see the prisoner—I believe he was quite sober—he had not been asleep in the box—I went to my mistress with the money after I served him—he was there about half an hour—no one came in during that time.
ELIZABETH NEIGHBOUR . I keep this coffee shop—on 9th September I saw the prisoner in my shop—my servant brought me a half-crown and I sent her to Mr. Dawson with it—I went to the front door and waited till she came back—she then handed me the half-crown again—when Mr. Dawson came I went to the prisoner and told him it was a bad one and that I thought I recognized him as a man who was in my shop on the Saturday, and then I
took a bad half-crown—he said he did not know it was bad, and had not been there before—he was not the worse for liquor—a constable was fetched and the prisoner was taken into custody—I gave the half-crown to the constable—next day my attention was called to another bad half-crown, which was found in the salt cellar which was on the table in box No. 2 the previous night—I gave that to the constable also.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you leave the parlour when the last witness came to you? A. Yes; I went to the box after she gave me the half-crown—Mr. Dawson lives two doors off—there was no one besides myself attending to the business—the prisoner remained in the shop—when Mr. Dawson came I went for a constable.
GEORGE DAWSON . I live at 3, Pierpoint Terrace, close to Mrs. Neighbour—on 9th September the girl Merritt came to me, and I went to Mrs. Neighbour's and found the prisoner there—I showed him the half-crown, and asked him if he knew where he got it from—he said "No"—I asked him if he had any more—he said he had not.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . The first half-crown is bad—and the second is also bad—the third, taken from the salt cellar, is bad and from the same mould as the second—this portion of a half-crown is from the same mould as the first.
GUILTY .— Nine Months Imprisonment .
JAMES BENNETT . I keep the Oakley Arms public house, 22, Hall Street, Goswell Road—on 20th August, the prisoner came there with another man, and asked for two three pennyworth's of brandy—another man came in after that, and had a half-quartern of gin—he drank that, and then had another half-quartern—he paid for the gin and brandy—five others then came in and they had some beer—the prisoner had another half-quartern of gin—he asked me if I could give him a half-sovereign for 10s. worth of silver—I did so, and gave him a good half-sovereign from the drawer—I then said "The gin is not paid for"—he said "I have halfpence enough for that"—he put down a few halfpence on the counter, but not enough—and said "You must give me my 10s. back again"—he laid down a half-sovereign and I saw at once, it was not the one I had given him—I took it up, and found it was bad—I caught him by the arm, and said "This won't do"—he tore himself away from me, and rushed out of the house—a few minutes after he came into another box, and I called one of the constables, and said, "That is the man"—he was taken, and I charged him with passing the bad half-sovereign—I gave it to the constable.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was it? A. About 12.40 in the morning—I took the half-sovereign from a drawer where we keep the gold—there was 14l. or 15l. there—the five men that came in had a pot of beer—they paid for it—no one was serving but myself at that time—the prisoner
rushed out—I can't say that any of the other men went out—the prisoner did not come in [the same entrance he went out at—he came back of his own accord—I saw him searched at the station—a quantity of money was found on him—I have seen him in the house before.
JOSIAH SPILLER . (Policeman G 38). About 12.45 on 20th August, I was outside the Oakley Arms, and saw the prisoner inside—I afterwards saw him come out and run away—I was called inside—I fastened all the other men in the house—in two or three minutes the prisoner came back and went into another compartment—the landlord said "That is the one that tried to pass the half-sovereign"—I went round and took him—he said "I have not been in the house before to-night"—I took him to the station, searched him, and found one sovereign, two florins, two sixpences, and-twopence in good money—on the way to the station he said he should like to put me on my back, he also said "How long do you think it would take me to trip you up if I wanted to get away."
Cross-examined. Q. Did he say he did not want to be shown up through the streets? A. Yes; he said, "Let us go on as fast as we can go, for I do not want to be shown up in the streets."
GEORGE JONES (Policeman G 240). I was with the last witness—I saw the prisoner run away down Hall Street, and then come back again—this half-sovereign was handed to me by the landlord, and I marked it.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imrisonment.
786. SOLOMON DUFFNEY (19) , Feloniously wounding Auguste Durand, on board the British ship Castleton, in a certain foreign port, with intent to do him grievous bodily harm. Other Counts varying the mode of stating the charge.
MESSRS. POLAND and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
AUGUSTE DURAND . I live at High Street, Wapping—in January last I was a seaman on board the British ship Castleton, and on the 21st January she was in the port of Manilla—about 12 o'clock that day I was on deck—Duffney was a seaman on board the same ship—he was passing a rope over some part of the vessel, and drew it across my arms—I asked him what he was doing, and he said he would do a d——sight more—I called him a moke—I was leaning over the rails after that, looking over the side, and I felt myself stabbed in the right side, and I fell—I saw the prisoner with a knife in his hand—I bled a good deal, and was taken on board a French vessel, and remained in the hospital until the 24th January.
Prisoner. I did not throw a rope across his hand.
WILLIAM HENRY TAMLIN . I live at Pigot Street, Poplar—in January last I was mate of the Castleton, a British ship, belonging to the port of Liverpool—on 21st January we were in the port of Manilla—the prisoner and Durand were seamen on board—I heard the prisoner call Durand a lobster, and Durand called the prisoner a moke—the prisoner drew his knife out and stabbed him in the side—he passed the knife from his left hand into the right, and then put it in his side—he said, "I have done for you now"—I think that was the expression—I asked the prisoner if they had any ill feeling, and he said, "No."
"You have called me a nigger long enough, I have done for you now"—the man fell on the deck, and I saw the wound on the right side.
primer. He did not hear me say, "I have done for you now."
JOHN GIBB . I was carpenter on board the Castleton—I saw this transaction, and saw the prisoner draw the knife from the man's side—I know of nothing that took place between the prisoner and Durand in Japan.
THOMAS CLARKE (Thames Police Inspector). On 9th August I took the prisoner into custody on board the Hindostan—I told him I should take him into custody for stabbing Auguste Durand, at Manilla, on 21st January—the prisoner said, "The man I stabbed is not coming home in the Castleton, I believe he is coming home in the Dor A."
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not intend to kill or hurt the man."
Prisoner's Defence. The second mate asked me for a pipe. I went and got it, and Durand was standing in the way. I asked him to move; he turned round and turned back again. A bit of rope just touched him on the arm; he turned and said, "What are you doing?" I said, "Why don't you move," and he said he did move. I did not say, "I have done for you now."
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
The following Prisoners PLEADED GUILTY.—
790. JOHN LLOYD (28) , to stealing a purse, the property of Isabella carr, from her person, and also to having been before convicted on 7th January, 1866**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
791. MARY ANN STOREY (21) , to three indictments for stealing one brooch, two carrings, and other articles, of Emily Caroline Trinder; a watch and chain of Elizabeth Esther Muirson; and one petticoat, and other articles, of Isabella Benoit— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
793. JOHN HOLMES (43) , to stealing eighteen jackets and six shirt fronts, of Edward John Watson, having been before convicted on 7th April, 1856— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
795. ALBERT VANDAME (25) , to embezzling and stealing 3l. 8s. 4d., 1l. 12s. 10d., and 2l. 2s. 1d., the monies of Joseph Antonio Gatti, his master— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, September 23rd, 1868.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MR. TAYLOR conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COLLINS the Defence.
SARAH OVERTON . I live at 13, Charlotte Street, and keep the house—the prisoners were lodgers in that house just upon three months—they had five children, Barbara, the deceased child, was the youngest; Katie, the eldest, is seven years old; Mary Ann, the next, about five years; the next, William, four and a half years; Elizabeth two and a half years; and Barbara about a year—the prisoners used to go out continually of an evening, from 8 or 9 o'clock and return about 1 or 2 in the morning, leaving all the children, and locking them in—I used to hear them cry—I sometimes went in—when I did so, I did not see anything in the way of necessaries for them—I saw an empty bottle lying on the bed, and noting else—I never saw the three younger children dressed or clothed, except one night when the female prisoner took the baby out with a hat and cloak—they were not clean, as they lay on the bed they lay in their own soil—on 7th July, the prisoners left home soon after 8 o'clock in the morning and did not return till between 10 and 11 o'clock at night—the witness, Alice Skeltham, fetched me up on that day, and I saw them—there was no food left for them—there were two or three pieces of dry crust, not eatable—I did not see a Mrs. Hyland there that day, no one but Alice Skeltham—she gave the children some food—I did not see them take it—they were in a very emaciated state—they were worse that day than they had been throughout—they had no covering upon them, they laid on the bed naked, no covering at all to speak about—I believe the youngest child had been ill, I heard Mrs. Brooks say so, with measles—I told her she ought to go to the workhouse or hospital, to have necessaries for the children—she said she had been to a hospital, and they would not take them in—on 23rd July, the prisoners left home at 8 o'clock at night and were away all night—Mrs. Brooks came in about 10 o'clock next morning, and Mr. Brooks about 10.13—at that time one of the parish officers had been there, and the police sent for.
Cross-examined. Q. How many rooms had the prisoners? A. Only one room—it was a large room on the top floor—they paid 4s. 6d. a week for it—the man used to attend to his work, with the exception of going out of an evening—he carried on his shoe making in his room, I heard him continually at work—he always had a decent and clean appearance in himself—I have never seen him drunk—I did not know that the children had had diarrhoea—my bed-room was opposite their room—I never went into their room in the day, they used to lock the door inside when they were there—I have never given the children any food, I had quite enough to do to give my own food; I have given the two elder girls a bit of bread and butter when they came in from school—I did not always get my rent except during the last two weeks—I had 1s. or 18d. at a time when they could give it me: when I asked for it the answer was, they had not anything for themselves—at the time they were taken into custody they owed me six or seven weeks' rent—I have a book; it is not here—I won't be positive hot many weeks they owed: I know there'is two months owing to-day—at the time they were taken into custody they owed two or three weeks—I can't say exactly—I don't expect them to pay since they have been in Newgate; but I am harboured with their dirt and filth, and I am not to keep a room for them, the dirty things—I don't know that they went on a free excursion on 7th July, only from what I have been told—I don't know that she took up some milk for the children before she went—I don't know Mrs. Hyland I may have teen her at the Court, but never before to my knowledge—I
did not see the prisoners go out on the morning of 7th July—I saw Mrs. Brooks the first thing in the morning, about 7.30, and I saw them come home about 10 o'clock at night—the door was not locked that day—the two elder children did not go to school that day, they stayed at home with their little brothers and sisters—they were very hungry, I did not give them anything, I would have done so, only Miss Skeltham came and gave them some—I stayed in the room with them ten minutes or a quarter of an hour each time I went up—there are only two stories to the house, a ground-floor and a first-floor—there was another lodger—Mrs. Brooks did not tell me that on the night of the 23rd, she had been staying with a Mrs. Randall, who was taken suddenly ill.
MARGARET SHAUGNESSY . I lodged at 13, Charlotte Street—the prisoners were in the habit of going out of an evening, and coming home very late, leaving the children—I did not know that they had five children till the day they went out on an excursion, the 7th July—I did not know they were gone until Alice Skeltham came and called me and Mrs. Overton up stairs—I went with her into the room—I found the children in a very bad state, the three youngest had nothing on them; the youngest, Barbara, was very bad, she had nothing at all on her, and she was lying in her own soil—I believe it was about 1 o'clock when I first went up—Alice Skeltham gave them some food—I did not see them take it—the prisoners returned between 10 and 11 o'clock—the last time I went up was about 10 o'clock, and they were all five then lying on the bed asleep.
Cross-examined. Q. The place was miserably furnished, was it not? A. Yea; in a very dirty state—they had furniture enough to suit their purpose—they had a bed, and, I believe, two tables and a couple of chairs—I have been living there four months, I lived in the room right opposite theirs; there were no other lodgers—I have a husband and two children—my husband is a marble polisher.
ALICE SKELTHAM . I live at 76, Willow Walk—my youngest sister went to the same school as the prisoners' two elder children—I had not been to their lodging before 7th July—between 11 and 12 o'clock that morning I was going by the house, and the eldest girl halloaed out of window to me, "Lady, come up," and I went up—I found them in a filthy state, the three younger children lay on the bed, they only had on one little thing, a shirt, nothing else; they were very dirty, they laid in their own soil—I wished to get them up and dress them; they said they had no clothes; I looked but could not find any, and there was no food—I told them I would bring them some—I went away, and returned about 1 o'clock with some broth and pudding—the youngest child was lying in a filthy state; she seemed ill—they ate the food ravenously, the youngest one ate it like a child of ten years—she only had a little shift on—I went to them again about 5 o'clock, and took them some tea, and again about 9 o'clock—I am sure there was no food at all in the place, only a dry crust—I did not see Mrs. Hyland there
Cross-examined. Q. What school is it the children went to? A. A free school—I was there when the prisoners came back, between 10 and 11 o'clock—I did not know them before—I had only seen them once.
JAMES EDMONDS . I live at 37, Great Cambridge Street, and am a vestryman of the parish—about 10 o'clock on the morning of 23rd July, I was passing through Charlotte Street, and saw a crowd of persons about the prisoner's house—I went up to the room where the children were—the prisoners were not there—I found the youngest child with a small piece of
cotton which formed a chemise, and very little covering on the bed, lying in a filthy state; the other two children were crawling about on the floor—I did not perceive that the youngest was lying in its own soil—the room was in confusion, and there were a great many persons going up and down, which might account for the dirt—I called in a policeman, and the children were taken to the workhouse—they were in a starving condition.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe there is a great deal of distress in the parish? A. Yes, it is St. Leonard, Shoreditch, there are a large number of poor in it—up to Midsummer the poor rate was 14d. in the pound, at present it is 10d.—the workhouse is very full.
THOMAS LEONARD . I am one of the medical officers of St. Leonard, Shoreditch—I know William Dack, the relieving officer, he is now under my care with typhus fever, and is unable to come here to give evidence.
Cross-examined. Q. What is the extent of the parish? A. It is a densely populated parish, though not large in area—there are six out-door medical officers, besides the one at the workhouse—if the prisoners had wanted a medical officer sent to them, they would apply to the relieving officer at the workhouse, who immediately grants the order; it is brought to the medical officer, and upon that he visits: if it is a case of urgency it is marked on the order, and he would then visit as soon as possible; if not, ho would visit the same day he received the order, or send his assistant—there is a certain time fixed for the patients to apply for medicine, they would not have long to wait—if they are visited at two they would come about four for the medicine—there has not been so much sickness this summer, it has been rather a favorable one.
MR. TAYLOR. Q. Did you ever have any order to visit the prisoners? A. No—I know nothing of them.
JAMES BURROWS (Policeman A 38). I was at the Police Court when William Dack the relieving officer was examined, I saw him sign his deposition, the prisoners were there and had the opportunity of putting questions—this is his signature—(The deposition of William Dack was read as follows:—"I am relieving officer of St. Leonard, Shoreditch. This morning I went to 13, Charlotte Street, the prisoners' house. I there found three children, aged four and a half, two and a half, and one year, in a wretched condition; the other two, aged seven and six years, seemed to have nothing much the matter with them. I saw no food in the room; the three children seemed starved. I took the five children to the workhouse.")—I was called to the house on the morning of 23rd July, I found the five children there, and the place full of people—the mother had the younger one in her arms—William, the one four and a half, was on the bed in a state of nudity, with only a shawl thrown over his shoulders; he was like a skeleton; Elizabeth sat on a stool by the stove, she only had a thin piece of linen in the shape of a shift; they seemed very weak indeed—I said to the prisoners "How can you account for the children being in this state?"—they said they were suffering from measles and diarrhoea—I said, "What medical advice did you have for them?"—he said they had been to the hospital, and he produced these certificates for July, 1867—I said, "Have you not had any advice since then?"—he said, "Yes, I have been to Ormond Street"—I said, "How long ago?"—he said, "About three or four months"—I said "Have they had any advice since then?"—he said, "We generally go out and purchase medicine for them when they require it"—I took the male prisoner into custody, and Dack took the children to the workhouse.
Cross-examined. Q. Did not the mother say that the children had been suffering from measles and decline? A. The husband said so in her presence; I won't be positive whether she said so or not.
JAMES CROGAN (Policeman G 36). I was called to the house on the morning of 23rd July, and took the children to the workhouse—the deceased child was lying on the bed in its own filth, it seemed Very weak.
DR. PETER LODGWICK BURCHELL . I live at 2, Kingsland Road, and am medical officer for the district in which the prisoners lived—I did not receive any instructions to visit them—on 23rd July, between 10 and 11 o'clock in the morning, one of the guardians called upon me and I went to this house, there were several persons in the room—my attention was called particularly to the three youngest children, who were in a very dreadfully filthy and emaciated condition—the youngest was on the bed naked, I think it had a little piece of rag or something or other over it—the prisoners were not there at that time; this was before the constables arrived—I took no further steps, because the parish officers were present, and the children were taken to the workhouse, and would there be under the charge of Mr. Forbes—I examined them, but I could not undertake to say whether there was any internal disease or not—the symptoms of disease were not prominent; it seemed to be chiefly a case of want of food, more especially with the two elder ones—the youngest was in an exceedingly emaciated condition, probably there was disease as well.
Cross-examined. Q. It is your opinion, I believe, that the emaciated condition of the children arose in part from want of sufficient nutriment? A. I think mainly so—I have been medical officer about twenty-five years—we have no sinecure—I believe the medical officers earn their salary—there is a great deal to do, it is a densely populated parish—a child suffering from measles, kept in one room with six other persons, would not be so favourably circumstanced as if it were more comfortably situated—measles is a very temporary complaint, it passes off rapidly—this was a tolerably large room—as regards the room, we have a great many cases more unhappily situated—I should advise nourishing things in a case of measles, for a weakly child.
MR. TAYLOR. Q. Was there anything in the residence of the family or the size of the room that was likely seriously to prejudice health? A. Certainly not; it was a large room, I should say 16 or 17 feet long, by 13 or 14 wide—if the child was left in its own dirt from morning till night, I should imagine it would have a prejudicial effect; and if it was left from 8 in the evening till 2 in the morning that would be improper treatment.
DANIEL MACKAY FORBES . I am medical officer of the workhouse of St. Leonard, Shoreditch—on 23rd July, the prisoners' five children were brought to the workhouse, and came under my care—the three younger ones were in a very filthy emaciated condition, suffering from measles—the youngest one, a year old, weighed only between 8 and 9 lbs.; the one four and a half years, weighed 11 lbs. 6 ozs.; and the third weighed 12 lbs.—the average weight of a child at birth is 9 or 10 lbs.—they were good sized children, but there was no fat upon them, the bones were protruding from the skin—I attended to the deceased child, and did what I could, but it died on 29th July—I made a post mortem examination—the body was shrunk, and the skin shrivelled, the ribs protruding, the lungs were both inflamed and consolidated—the stomach was small, the intestines thin and opaque, the lower end containing feces—the omentum was shrunk, and
there was no fat in the body—the blood was thin and watery, and the brain was slightly congested—the cause of death was inflammation of the lungs and bronchial tubes—deprivation of food, neglect, and filth would accelerate that—judging from the appearance of the body, I came to the conclusion that it did suffer from privation and neglect—I do not attribute the death to measles—the proximate cause of death was inflammation of the lungs, and the want of food accelerated the inflammation.
Cross-examined. Q. What diet would you recommend for a child suffering from measles? A. New milk for a child of that age, and either flour or bread with it—children of six or seven could take the ordinary diet, meat and nourishing food—these children were scrofulous—that would be increased by insufficient food and want of air, and would reduce the condition—none of the children were suffering from rickets; but the child four and a half years old, if left in the same condition in which it was, would certainly have shown that disease very quickly—they had the greatest attention in the workhouse—the present weight of the one of four and a half yean, is 16 lbs., and the one two and a half years, 18 1/4 lbs,—they have had plenty of good nourishing food—they were not suffering from diarrhea; I saw no symptoms of it.
MR. TAYLOR. Q. Suppose the child a year old, left all night by its mother, without food, what effect would it have? A. If it had measles I should not expect it to recover.
JANE CHAMBERLAIN . I live at 4, Willow Walk—that is close to Charlotte Street—I know the prisoner, and have known the female some time—I have seen them at Pritchard's public house, at the corner of Cross Street, of an evening—I go there for beer—I have often seen them there—I generally Me them when I go there.
Cross-examined. Q. Will you venture to say that you have seen them there three times in your life? A. Yes; I saw them one day when I went there in the morning, afternoon, and evening, all in one day—that is a tag while before they were found out starving their children, before they turned and went to preaching—I am not a Roman Catholic, I am an English girl—at one time they were fond of going to public houses, and then they wart to preaching—one Sunday she saw me with a skipping rope, and she said I was going to hell as fast as I could, and I told her to mind her own business.
COURT. Q. How long is it since they gave up going to public houses and began to go to church? A. About four or five months—it is not a church, it is a chapel in Club Row—I have seen them twice at Pritchard's since they have been attending their chapel.
JOHN CHARLES CORNER . I am a boot and shoemaker, of 30, City Road—the male prisoner has been in my employ from 30th April until he was taken into custody—I have paid him on an average 12s. per week—he did piece work at home—he might have had more work at same time—about 28th June I had more work for him—the work he did for me did not occupy the whole of his time—from 23rd June he was told he could have regular employment, and he could then have earned from 20s. to 24s. a week.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you your book here? A. No, but I have in I abstract—in the week ending April 30th, he earned only 1s. 2d., but he only commenced on Wednesday that week—I only occasionally employed him from April to June—all the work I could give him he took, but he took his
own time over it—his average earnings were about 12s. a week—he was not a first class workman, moderate, a very passable one; a man who could get employment in a general way, not rough work—if he had liked to work be might have earned 24s. a week—if a man has work out it is not the custom to give him more until he brings that in—if he had done his work more quickly I should have found him more to do.
JURY. Q. What quantity of work do you give out at a time? A. one pair, generally—that would take him eight hours—he would get 4s. for that—that would be a moderate day's work.
MR. COLLINS called the following Witness for the Defence.
ALICA HYLAND . I have been a schoolmistress—I live at 8, Queen Street, Hoxton—I have known the female prisoner from a child—since she has been grown up I have been acquainted with her nine or twelve months—I have been at her house seven or eight times, or perhaps oftener—I am married, and live with my husband—on 7th July there was an excursion belonging to the Mission, by Mr. Knowles—Mrs. Brooks called at my house that morning—I believe she came from the train—she had lost the train—she seemed very anxious about her children, and asked me to go down and see to them—I went to their room twice that day, and saw the five children—I went to the cupboard and saw some bread, a piece of butter, and some sweetmeats on the mantelpiece, and there was some milk in a jug—I gave them the milk and bread and butter—I went again towards the evening—Mr. Brooks gave me the key of the front door, and I let myself in and went up stairs—the key of the room was in the door, it was turned, and I let myself in—the room seemed in a very poor state, wretchedly furnished, but the two little girls seemed clean—I had visited the prisoner in Cooper Street, before she moved to Charlotte Street—I always saw her kind to the children, and Mr. Brooks seemed always hard at work—he told me he had to work very hard—in the winter he was very short of work—my husband is a boot maker, and I know they have to work very hard to earn 2s. 6d. a day at peg work; it is very hard work, and very unhealthy—to earn 24s. a week, as Mr. Corner had said, a man must sit up all night to earn anything like it—I never saw them the worse for liquor, in fact I asked Mrs. Brooks to take a glass of porter one day when she came to see me, and she refused—as far as I could judge they did the beat they could for their children—when I went to the room on this day I can solemnly declare there was no soil on the bed—the little girl, Emily, was very thin—they had been ill for a long time, and the boy appeared to be in a consumption—in the winter they were ill for a long time, and I understood they had the smallpox—I think they were very unhealthy, weak children—it was not a large room; there was a bed in it, and it was very tidy for poor people—I always remarked that her room was clean, and she was very tidy in her person.
Cross-examined. Q. When was it you saw them in Cooper Street? A. I can't tell, it was iu the winter—I called on her two or three times in Charlotte Street before 7th July—the last time might have been three weeks before—I don't know what the child was ill with then: it was not ill, that I am aware of—it was between 8 and 9 o'clock in the morning on 7th July, that she came to me—I went round first between 12 and 2 o'clock—I saw Mrs. Overton in the passage, and spoke with her—when I went up the second time I saw a girl in the room—I was not aware it was Alice Skeltham—that was between 4 and 5 o'clock—I did not take any food with me on either occasion—I distributed what I found on the first occasion—I don't
think I gave them all, I think I left a little—when I came again it was all gone—the children were not in a filthy state—I saw no filth whatever on the bed—I had never taken care of them before—their place is seven or ten minutes' walk from mine—Mrs. Brooks told me she was going away all day—she seemed most anxious for me to go and see to the children—she did not tell me they were ill—I did not think they were ill—I did not see them after that day, and I have not seen Mrs. Brooks since.
JURY. Q. What quantity of bread was there in the room? A. I did not weigh it—there was not so much as a half quartern, there might be near upon a pound—the three children that were on the bed had their little chemises on, and the two little girls had very clean dresses on, and their faces were clean—I did not give them anything the second time I went—there was nothing in the room—there were some dry crusts in the cupboard, but I did hot give them those—they did not ask for any food, I naturally went to the cupboard to give them what I could—it seemed a very distressed, poor cupboard, but very tidy.
CHARLES RANDALL . I am a fancy cabinet maker, and live at 49, Little Sutton Street, Clerkenwell—on 22nd July, I was out with my wife, and met the prisoners about 9.55—they came into our house, and while they were there my wife was taken with a fit—she was very violent, and the prisoners stayed to help me—it was between 11 and 12 o'clock that my wife was taken ill, and the fit lasted till 4 o'clock in the morning—they stayed all night, and then left.
Cross-examined. Q. Was that the last you saw of them? A. No; we took my wife out for a little walk, as Mr. Brooks said it would do her good—we went as far as their street—he said he would go up stairs and see to his children: he came back and said they were all right—we then went into a coffee shop at the corner of Old Street Road; I had a cup of coffee and my wife had a cup of tea—when we came out Mr. Brooks said it was rather too early to get to work, and asked me to go with him to look at a house that was to let, which I did—I stayed with him till 9 or 10 o'clock, and left him at the corner of his street; there was a crowd there at that time.
JURY. Q. Who paid for the coffee? A. I did; I paid for all.
ELIZABETH PRIOR . I live at 9, England's Buildings, Willow Walk, a short distance from the prisoners—on the morning of 22nd July the female prisoner came to my house—she said she was in very great distress, the children were ill with diarrhoea, and asked me to let her have a few halfpence that I owed her, to get them some nourishment, as they had nothing to eat—I told her to meet me in the afternoon, which she did, and I gave it her, it was 10d., and she told me she bought a loaf, some butter, tea, and sugar with it—she said she had got a lot of dirty things, but had no soap to wash them.
JOSEPH KNOWLES . I am a Missionary, and live at London Fields, Hackney—I have known the prisoners about 11 months—they are quiet, sober, industrious people—I have frequently visited their house; the last time was about 15th May—at that time their room was remarkably clean—the three younger children were confined to the bed—I believe they did everything for them that it was in their power to do—they were in a great state of destitution, and, humanly speaking, they would have been all dead in the winter but for my assistance—they were then living in Cowper Street—I always found him at work in his room when I went—the wife was sometimes out, when she went for his work—I remember the excursion on 7th July—I
paid all the expenses of it—it was to take the poor people out, the prisoners among others: they had not been out of town for seven years—I took them to Highgate for the day—the female prisoner came to me at the station before we started and asked me for 1s., as the children had nothing to eat—I ore it her, and she went away to get them some provisions, and did not come with us; she came after, about 9.45—I know the place of worship they attend—they came about four evenings in the week—I have seen a great deal of them daily—I, and some of the poor people who know them, have subscribed funds for their defence—the three younger children were always delicate and sickly, but they were always kept clean and nice on the bed—the mother told me she was going to get some person to take care of them on the day of the excursion—she only asked me for 1s.—if she had asked me for 5s. I should have given it to her.
SARAH WORSTER . I live at 16, Bath Place, City Road—I visit poor people—I was asked by Mr. Knowles to do so, not only to feed and clothe them, but to tell them of the Saviour that I love—I visited the two prisoners, both in Cowper Street and Charlotte Street—when I first visited them it was in the depth of winter, and the five children were on the bed with only a very thin sheet to cover them, and the father with hardly any clothes—they were in a very poor and wretched condition—they are greatly improved in appearance now to what they were when they were taken into custody—I think they did the best they could for their children—the man was so weak from living so badly in the winter, that I don't think he had the strength to do a day's work, he only had a cup of tea a day, and sometimes bread—they used not to have anything till about 1 o'clock in the day, and that served for breakfast, dinner and tea—I have relieved them with a quartern loaf, half hundred of coals, six-pennyworth of meat, and six-pennyworth of grocery—I have not relieved them since he worked for Mr. Corner, as our funds are so limited—in the winter they were starving, and if it had not been for the relief they had then, they would have gone the way of all flesh long before this—I asked why they did not go to the parish, and he said, "If I was to go there, they would give me a ticket for the stone-yard, and if a job of work came in while I was there, I could not do it; and if we went, we should be separated"—I have seen hundreds of cases quite as bad—I have had a good deal of experience in visiting—I last visited them on 14th July—the children were all sick and in bed at that time—the two eldest were ill with measles, and the three youngest had diarrhoea, but I found the room very nice and clean, and two bits of white calico on the bed to cover them: it was very hot weather then: they had little chemises on, and they looked nice and clean; the man was at work—I did not visit them at regular periods, but at all times—they used to come to our meetings about 8 o'clock of an evening, and leave about 10—I have visited them as late as 10.30 and 11 o'clock, and always found them at home.
Cross-examined. Q. How recently before 7th July had you seen them? A. I used to visit them about once a week. I think I saw them about a week or ten days before the excursion; the three youngest children were then ill with diarrhoea—they were always ill. I have seen medicine bottles there; they used to go to the hospital in Great Ormond Street; a lady in the country sent them a letter for the little boy to go into the hospital, but they refused to take him, as the case was incurable.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury on the ground of their extreme poverty.— Three Months' Imprisonment each .
Mr.DALY conducted the Prosecution; and Mr.WOOD the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT, Wednesday, September 23rd, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
799. SAMUEL TAYLOR (23), and HENRY RICH (24), to stealing 14 turkeys, the property of John Bacon, end 4 sheep, the property of William Booker— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Eight Months' Imprisonment each.
800. ISAAC GIBSON (17), and JAMES ALLEN (16) , to stealing a handkerchief, the property of Lewis Benjamin, from his person, and also to having been before convicted**—. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Seven Years' Penal Servitude each
802. ANDREW FRANCIS BRYANT (19) , to stealing a watch of John Jackson Hibbs, from his person, having been before convicted on 8th May, 1865— [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
803. HENRY WALLS (30) , to stealing two bills of exchange for the payment of 200l. and 100l., the property of Alexander Found and another, and feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 80l., with intent to defraud— [guilty: See original trial image.] Seven years' Penal Servitude.
804. SIDNEY JAMES REES TURNER (15) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 175l., with intent to defraud, and also stealing two pieces of paper of Thomas Lang ridge, his master— [guilty: See original trial image.] Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. And
MESSRS. POLAND and METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
JOHN RISEN . I am in the service of Mr. Igglesden, at Snargate Street, Dover, and on the 3rd September I made up a small box, and put into it a pair of stone ear-drops and a locket—I sealed it up, and addressed it to "Miss E. Rosenbrock, 7, Eaton Place, London, W."—I put three stamps on it, and sent it to the Post Office, about 1.30 in the day, the post-time is 3 o'clock—this (produced) is the packet I made up.
HENRY PRATT . I am a clerk in the Post Office at Dover—this packet bears the Dover post-mark of the afternoon of 3rd September—that would be forwarded in the regular course of business about 3.30, in the mail-bag for London.
THOMAS KELLY . I am a sorter in the General Poet Office—on the 3rd September the mail-bag from Dover arrived about 5.50—it was tied up and sealed in the regular way, and I opened it in order that the contents might be sorted and stumped—a messenger takes them to the stamper.
Cross-examined. Q. You do not see the prisoner at all? A. No—letters and packets all come in the same bag together.
HENRY RUMBOLD . I am a police constable attached to the Post Office, and have been for seven years—I have been in the Metropolitan force twenty years—in consequence of directions Smee and myself watched the inland department—on the evening of the 3rd September, about 6.20, I placed myself in such a position as to command a view of the stamping—tables—I saw the prisoner standing at one of the tables—I saw a small picket in front of him oh the table, which he took in his left hand—he then turned his head round, and as he turned it back he put his left hand into the left side of the skirt of his coat—he turned his head to the right, as if looking round the office. I saw no more of the packet after he put his hand in—I am sure he did not put it back on the table—I saw his hand come from under his coat, without the packet—shortly after that Smee came up—I then saw the prisoner come across from his own table to another one opposite—he then had a slip of paper in his left hand—while he was at the second table he took up two or three packets in his hand, one by one, at if he was weighing them, which he put down again—he then took up another, and put it in his left hand, under the slip of paper, and turned to the stamping-table where he was at first—he carried the packet till he got to the table—he stood there a few seconds talking to someone—he then put his right hand up towards the paper, which was in his left hand, and with the left hand put the packet in the left-hand side of the skirt of his coat—Smee then went round into the office, and took him into a private room—I went into the superintendent's private room about five minutes after, and saw on the table two packets—this was one of the packets, addreesed to Miss Rosenbrock—these two packets resemble the ones I saw him take—at the time he went to the second stamping-table there was no one there.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose during the time you have been in the PostOffice, you have had a number of cases? A. Yes—I was where I could see the prisoner—there was a wall between us—the prisoner was about ten yards from me—I know John Martin, one of the overseers—he was on duty that evening—there were fourteen or fifteen persons in the room at the time I was watching the prisoner—some were stamping and others collecting—no one was at the table with the prisoner—there were persons two or three yards off—I did not know what the slip of paper was he had in his hand—I was there about half an hour—Smee came in when I had seen him take the first packet—Smee searched him, and took charge of the things—I was present when he was charged before the inspector—we stopped at a publichouse on the way to the station—I asked the prisoner if he would like something to drink—we are not in the habit of doing that—we do not like to be unkind to them.
WILLIAM SMEE . I am a police-constable attached to the General PostOffice, and have been so for about fourteen years—on the evening of the 3rd September I joined Rumbold, and he made a communication to me—I could see the stamping tables from where we were—I saw the prisoner there stamping letters on the right side of the office—after he had finished stamping the letters he had before him, he walked across to the tables in the centre of the office, where the packets were lying—he had a small piece of paper in his hand—he took a pen from behind his ear, as if he was going to write something—he took up two packets, and put them down again, and then took up a third, which is the one produced—he felt it as if he were feeling the weight of it—he then placed it in his left hand, under the piece of paper he had in that hand, and walked back to his own stamping table—he spoke to
someone for a few seconds, and then took the paper from his left hand into the right, and dropped it down between the coat and the lining, and when he took his hand out there was no packet in it—I went up to him and told him I wished to speak to him in a private room—I then took him into Mr. Pawley's, the superintendent's office—I said, "I have reason to believe that this man has got something in his pocket which does not belong to him"—the prisoner said, "No, I have not, that I know of; if I have, it must have fallen there when I was collecting packets"—Mr. Pawley said, "You are not collecting any packets, your duty is a stamper"—the prisoner then said something I could not hear—I said, "Well, then, will you allow me to search you"—I searched him in Mr. Pawley's presence, and in the lining of the coat, between the lining and the cloth, I found these two packets (produced)—this is the coat—the pockets are outside—the lining is torn on both sides—I said, "How do you account for these being in your possession?"—he replied, "I don't know, unless they must have fallen in when I was collecting packets"—Mr. Pawley said, "Why, you had no business to collect any pockets, your duty is as a stamper, the packets would not pass through your hands, in any way, in the office"—he was then taken into custody—I afterwards saw the packets opened, one contained a pair of stone ear-drops, and the other a needle-case—there was nothing else in the lining but the two packets—the prisoner could not see us from where we were.
Cross-examined. Q. The coat was not buttoned, was it? A. No—I went to the prisoner's house; I found no letters there—I went with the prisoner to the station—I gave him a drop of beer, and had some myself—there were some larger packets on the table, and some smaller.
WILLIAM PAWLEY . I am a superintendent in the General Post Office, the prisoner was brought into my office by the constable, who said, "He suspected he had got something in his pockets that did not belong to him"—the prisoner said, "If I have, they must have fallen in"—Smee searched him, and took the two packets from the inside of his coat—I said it was no part of his duty to clear the packets—he said nothing more—it was not his duty to clear the packets at all—his duty was simply stamping—he has a table for the purpose—the table where the Dover packet was, was pointed out to me—that was his table—he had no right to touch it, except to stamp it—I know the other table, he had no business at all to do at that table—when packets are collected they are collected by proper persons, and in trays.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe there is an overseer? A. Yes—he goes on duty at the same time as the sorters and stampers—Mr. Martin would have to go into the room in the course of his duty—the prisoner had been eighteen years in the service of the Post Office—he has collected sealed bags from Government offices—he had something to do with the registered room, but not in the evening—his regular duty was to go on at 7.30, and remain till 8.40, for which he received twenty-nine shillings a week; after that time he was entitled to do extra work—he was on extra work on that night—it consists of a variety of set duties—he would go on extra duty at 5 o'clock, and remain till 8 o'clock. His first duty would be stamping—Mr. Martin would not tell him to go and sort packets—there was no ink on the prisoner's table, but there was on the other—I am in the room the whole time—I go on at 3 o'clock, and come away at 8 o'clock—I was in my own room when the prisoner was brought in—I saw Smee take the packets out of his pocket, and he said, "They must have fallen in."
MR. METCALFE. Q. Do you superintend that room? A. Yes, I appoint the duties of persons in that room—I knew there was something wrong, and that some attempt was being made to discover it, and that made me additionally careful.
Cross-examined. Q. How many persons were there on duty? A. In the office in which I was employed at that time, I should think close on one hundred—I can't say how many there were in that particular room—Mr. Pawley undertakes the superintendence of that room, and an overseer of the name of Cope—I should have no occasion to go into that room.
MR. PAWLEY (re-examined). Mr. Cope is overseer of the newspaper department—he would have no authority concerning these packets—I have the full control over them—the prisoner would have no concern as to the weight of the packets.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY Strongly recommemded to mercy by the Jury. .— Five Years, Penal Servitude .
MESSRS. POLAND and LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and
MR. METCALFE the Defence.
EDWIN AUGUSTUS BURWASH . I am a member of the firm of Burwash and Sons, notaries, of 23, Birohin Lane—on Saturday, 11th July last, the prisoner called at my office and brought with him this bill of exchange and said I was to do what was necessary with it—he gave me a card representing himself to be a member of the firm of Pardo & Company, dealers in jewellery and precious stones—I sent one of my clerks to get it accepted, and my clerk brought it back with the answer "Gone away, not known"—I then drew up the protest—on the bill was written "In case of need to be presented at Jameson & Son's"—they are the correspondents of Messrs. Keller & Sons of Stutgardt—the bill was paid by them under protest—two days after the prisoner came for the money—Jameson's had paid with a crossed cheque,—I handed the prisoner the cheque and he demurred at taking it—he said a few days previously he had received a crossed cheque which had been returned to him—I told him it was the custom, and I could not help him—I met him later in the day, in Gracechurch Street, and asked him if he had received the money, and he said he had—when he came on the Saturday he handed me Messrs. Pardo's card, and I handed him one of ours in return—I never knew him before—on the 2nd August I was fetched to the Bank of England and saw him there—I identified him as the person who brought me the bill—Foulger showed me the bill and asked me if the prisoner was the man who brought me the bill to do what was necessary with it—I said he was—the prisoner then said I had never seen him, and he had never seen me.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you asked that at the Police Court? A. I believe not—I told the prisoner to go to Jameson's if he did not like the crossed cheque, and get another for it—a great many bills pass through my hands—I did not know the names of the persons on the bill before—a great number of names are familiar to me, but I don't know any of these.
6, Fen Court, Fenchurch Street,—they are the correspondents of Mes✗ J. H. Keller & Sons, of Stutgardt—on Monday, 13th July, a pen, whom I believe to be the prisoner, brought me a crossed cheque with a ✗ of Burwash's—it was for 44l. 10s., payable to Messrs Pardo & Co.—he said it was not usual to give crossed cheques for bills—I took the cheque in✗ Mr. Cable, and he gave the prisoner an open cheque instead of the ✗ one—the open cheque has been paid through our bankers—I don't know what has become of the card he gave me—it was one similar to this (produced).
NOAH PARDO . I am a dealer in diamonds, trading as Pardo & Co, in Stewart Street, Bishopsgate Street—this is one of my cards—I gave the prisoner a card of this description some time before the 11th July—I did not know his name—the signature "Pardo & Co." on this bill is not my handwriting, nor was it signed by my authority—I know nothing about it—I do not know the Brothers Lavenstein, of Frankfort—the prisoner has nothing, to do with my firm.
Cross-examined. Q. You gave him a card? A. I did—I sold him a diamond-ring once—he knew me as dealing in jewellery—I saw him once or twice in a pawnbroker's—I did not inquire his name—I don't know what he was doing there—I was offering diamonds for sale—he saw me, and looked ever my stock—I have been a diamond merchant fifteen or eighteen months—before that I was travelling for a house in Houndsditch—I never carried on business in Union Court, Old Broad Street, in the name of Depart—I never carried on business in that name—I never had a bill discounted for me—I have no business at Stutgardt, only in England—I do not buy abroad at all.
HENRY GILLS . I was a commission agent, and formerly clerk to Mr. Henry Rudall, at 150, Leadenhall Street—he left the office about eighteen months ago—I don't know where he is now—I can't say whether the signature on this bill is the signature of Mr. Rudall or not—his signature to bills was always Henry Rudall & Co.—this is Henry Rudall—it is similar to his handwriting, but I can't swear to it—to the best of my belief it is his writing—I last saw him eighteen months ago when he left Leadenhall Street.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you chiefly Rudall & Co.? A. I was—Mr. Rudall only came occasionally—he was a commission agent—we got goods from abroad and sold them on commission—sometimes I sent Mr. Rudall money abroad—he had to pay for the goods, and he received money through me chiefly—we only did business on the Rhine—when we left Leadenhall Street, we left no address—the last quarter's rent was not paid when we went away—I once prosecuted a man for forging a bill, but he was acquitted—there was a man named Simpson in that matter—I knew some persons in the name of Parker & Co.—I believe they accepted bills for a half-crown—it was a bill drawn by Lesco on Rudall, and Parker had something to do with it.
MR. POLAND. Q. When did you last see Mr. Rudall? A. Eighteen months ago—I know nothing of this bill myself—I never went back to Leadenhall Street again after we left.
JOHN HILL . I was housekeeper at 150, Leadenhall Street—I knew a Mr. Snorenburg there—the only person I knew as Mr. Rudall was the last witness, and he was clerk to a Mr. Snorenburg—that name was up in the first instance, then "Rudall," and then "Henry" only—they left about eighteen months ago, and no one connected with them has been there since.
PAUL KAPFF . I am a member of the firm of Meters. J. H. Keller & Co., of Stutgardt—our correspondents in London are Messrs. Jameson & Co.—this bill is not in my handwriting, or any member of my firm—we are correspondents of Mr. Laux, of Ulm, whose name is on the bill, but if it had passed through'our office it would have been stamped—Jameson & Co. sometimes my bills on behalf of persons who are abroad.
JOHN EIFLANDER . I live at 36, Bloomfield Street, and am a jeweller—I have known the prisoner some years, and know his handwriting—I believe these two endorsements on this bill to he in his handwriting—"From me, to the order of J. H. Keller & Sons, Stutgardt, 21st April, 1868, for Lewis Boder, Charles Boder"—I believe those two signatures to be in his writing.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been in Bloomfield Street? A. Three months—I came from Germany—it is about four years ago since I saw him write—that was in his own office, in Fenchurch Street—I never knew him as a bill discounter—I sent him jewellery over from Germany—I have seen him accept bills—he has done so for me in his own office—I read the case in the paper, and told Mr. Foulger I should like to look at the bills, because I have some bills in my possession which are not much better than this—I showed Foulger the bills I had—it was six or eight weeks ago that I told him—I knew the prisoner was remanded a great many times—I told Foulger what I knew, but they did not call me—I was asked two or three questions last Saturday—I was at the Police Court two or three times while this was going on—I think I was there as many as six times, but I was not called as a witness—I have had no quarrel with the prisoner—he owes me some money.
MR. POLAND. Q. Have you had letters from the prisoner? A. yes—twice a week, nearly—I have some bills, but they have not been paid—I cannot find the drawer.
JOHN FOULGER (City Detective). I saw the prisoner on the 3rd August, about 11 in the morning—I had some bills with me—I was with Spittle, another officer—Spittle told him we were police officers, and produced two bilk of exchange, and told him he was charged with forging, and uttering them—he said he knew nothing about them—I then produced these two bills, and told him he would be charged with forging, and uttering them—he took them partially in his hand, and said he had not seen them before—I said "One is alleged you took to Mr. Grain, a notary, and the other one to a Mr. Burwash," and he said he did not know the gentlemen—this was at Peckham—we brought him to the City, and I sent Spittle for Mr. Burwash—I took Mr. Burwash up to him, and said, "Is this the person that presented the bill to you?" and he said, "It is"—the prisoner said he did not know Mr. Burwash, and had never seen him before.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you say anything about this conversation before the Magistrate. A. I believe I did. I was only examined twice—my depositions were read over to me. I found the prisoner close to his own house—I found some bills on him—I have inquired into them, and found that the prisoner had discounted several of them—I presented one of them and found it was a bond fide bill.
COURT to PAUL KAPPF. Is the signature like yours? A. It is a good imitation of Mr. Keller's signature.
The Prisoner received a good character.— GUILTY of uttering.— Judgment respited.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS WALTER MORRIS . I live at 18, St. Mary's Square, Paddington—on 21st August, between 8 and 9, I went into the Queen and Prince Albert public-house, at Knightsbridge—the prisoner came in, and I had some convenation with him, and drank beer with him—I left about 8.30, and the prisoner left at the same time—I told him I was going across the Park, and he said he was going that way too, and we entered into conversation—soon after we got into the Park, he put his hand on my throat, and threw me backwards—he then took my chain—he struck me on the head, and I was insensible for some time—when I came to myself, I missed my chain, coat, and hat—I gave information to the first policeman I saw in the Park, and went with him to the station—I saw the prisoner about 11.30 the same evening at the station, and identified him—I have not the slightest doubt about him now—this is the chain I lost; I can swear to it—I have not seen my coat since—the prisoner said he was stationed at the Chelsea Barracks.
Prisoner. Did you ask me to drink your beer? Witness. Yes; you got into conversation with me—I did not ask you to go up stairs into the room above—I did not stop anywhere when I got into the Park, and I did not give you a two-shilling piece—you just looked round, and I happened to turn at the same time—you put your hand to my throat, and threw me down—you knelt on me, and used great violence—I did not run away and leave my coat.
GEORGE YOUNG (Policeman A 20). I received information from the last witness on 21st August, in consequence of which I searched for someone—about 11 o'clock, I saw the prisoner between Albert Gate and Apsley Gate—he was standing under a lamp-post, examining something, but I could not see what it was—I watched him—he went and spoke to someone who was sitting on a seat—I went and spoke to them, and in consequence of what they told me I followed the prisoner to Apeley Gate—I asked him the time; he said he did not know—I said, "You have a chain, have not you got a watch?"—he said, "No"—he then said, "You know what sort of chaps we are; if you like it, I'll sell you this chain for 1l."—I said, "No," and seized hold of it, and took it away from him—he said, "If I had any of my mates here, you would not take hold of it like that"—I then charged him with stealing the chain—he said, "It is my chain, I have had it about a fortnight; my sister gave it to me"—I took him to the station, and sent for the prosecutor—he came about 12, and immediately identified the prisoner—he made no answer—the charge was taken, and he made no answer to it—the prosecutor first came to the station about 10—he was perfectly sober.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate:—"I never saw the man."
GUILTY .—William Holmes, Sergeant in the Grenadier Guards, said the Prisoner bore a bad character in the regiment.— Five Years' Penal Servitude .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, September 24th, 1868.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
809. JAMES DALE (62), PLEADED GUILTY to a common assault upon John Scott— Recommended to mercy by the Prosecutor— Fourteen Days' Imprisonment .— There was an indictment against the prisoner for feloniously attempting to discharge a loaded gun at the said John Scott, upon which no evidence was offered.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH READMAN . I am the prisoner's wife—I lived with him up to the time he was taken into custody, at 21, Bell Street, Marylebone—on the evening of 7th September, I went out with a female friend of his and mine—I returned home a few minutes before 10; my husband was not at home then—I waited up for him till after 1 o'clock, when, thinking he would not come home, I undressed and went to bed—about 2.30 he came home—he said to my little boy, "Is your mother here?"—he said, "Yes, father"—he then lighted a match, and began kicking me—I was in bed—I rose to get up, and as fast as I got up, he knocked me down, over boxes, and chairs, and different things, a great many times—at last, I sat down on a box, when he struck me down—he then went to the fireplace, and got the poker—I knew if he did that I should be seriously hurt, and I ran under the table, and kept bearing him not to do so—he broke the table to pieces over my head, and then went to the mantelpiece, where there was a set of paper trays, and knocked them to pieces on the floor, and took them up with his hand as well, and beat them up—I rushed to the door, to try to get out, and he rushed after me, and met me as I had my hand on the door, and brought me back, and immediately rose the window and put me outside—I screamed "Murder!" and held fast by his collar with both hands with all my might—I have no idea what the distance is from the window to the ground—we live on the first floor—when I screamed "Murder!" the witness Oliver came in from the front room—my husband has ill-treated me very much before this.
Prisoner. When I came in did not I ask you to get up and get me a light, and get me some supper? Witness. No, you struck a match, and began kicking me—that did not hurt me—you kicked me three or four times, and kept striking me—you never knew me to go public-houses and spend your money—you know you have ruined my business and brought me to poverty—I had been out with Mrs. Davis, an old friend, to a gentleman's house at Lower Norwood—I did not say to you, "James, if you do not leave off breaking the things, I will throw myself out of the window"—you have cruelly ill-used me—six weeks before this I had a warrant against you, but I forgave you—I did not get out of the window myself, nor did you pull me in—you called me dreadful names, and while you held me out of the window, you said, "Now will you spend my money, and keep my child in the street till 10 and 11 o'clock"—of course I held you as hard as I could—it wag impossible for me to say whether I should fall or not if I let go of you—it is a large window, as wide as that in the Court.
COURT. Q. How did he put you out? A. He took me up in his arms like a child, and put me out; but I don't wish to punish him, I want a divorce to get away from him, he is so very cruel—I shall never get any
peace, I am really in danger with him—I don't think he is right in his head, he is half crazy at times—I think the window was partly open, but I know he rose it up to the full extent, and took me up and put me outside—I don't know that my head and shoulders were outside when he caught hold of me by the hips—I don't recollect when I was on the ledge his saying "Now will you spend my money"—I was so frightened I don't know what I did—I screamed "Murder!" a great many times—a person over my head was looking down at us, and I said to him, "There is a woman looking down at you"—I was attended by Dr. Kirby.
ALFRED OLIVER . I am a labourer, and lodge in the next room to the prisoner and his wife—their window is from twenty to twenty-five feet from the ground—on the morning of the 8th September, I heard the prisoner come home, about 2.15; he works up to 1 o'clock—I think he had been drinking a little—I heard him go into his own room, and heard him use dreadful language—he began knocking his wife about; she screamed—the landlady came up, and said she would send for a policeman—I had to go into his room to try and pacify him—he was then punching his wife with his fists by the fire-place—I asked him to be quiet at this time in the morning—he said, "If I did not go out of his room he would break my b——head—I thought it was time to go then, and I went back to bed—after that I heard the door locked, and then I heard the window open, and heard screams of "Murder!" from a female voice—I got up and put on my trousers, and went and burst open their room door—the prisoner said he would stab the first b——man that entered his room—when I entered the room I saw the prisoner having his wife in a sitting position on the window sill, with only her legs in the room—he was trying to push her out with all his might—there was no light in the room—I could see he was shoving her away from him as well as he could; and she had hold of the collar of his coat—he was trying with all his force to push her out—there was no curtain to the window, and I could see as I came into the room, and went towards him—directly he saw me he left his wife and made towards me, and I struck him a severe blow in the face—he struck at me, and we struck one another five or six different times—he overpowered me, and would have strangled me if assistance had not come—he had me by the throat on the floor—my foot got hurt very badly.
Prisoner. When you first entered my room, did you see me strike my wife? Witness. I did—I was asked that question at the Police Court—the second time I came into the room I was not there a minute and a half—I was more than half way in the room—I broke the door open, and the box of the lock was found on the floor afterwards, covered with blood from the cut on my instep—when I first saw your wife she was in a sitting position, outside the window ledge—I did not see you put her there, but you acknowledged at the Police Court that you did—when I struck you your wife ran out of the room—you caught me by my windpipe and gave me a sharp squeeze—I don't know how I got my foot cut, it was in the struggle—I believe it was done by the box of the lock—I lost at least half a gallon of blood—your room and mine was like a slaughter-house—if I had not interfered I believe you would have killed your wife, and you would have been in a worse position—I did not charge you with assaulting me.
ELLEN ELIZABETH STAPLES . I lodge in the second floor back of this house—on this morning I heard the breaking of furniture in the prisoner's room, and heard screams of "Murder!"—upon that I went out on to a
ledge, on my hands and knees, and locked over and saw the prosecutrix out of the window, backwards, and the prisoner's hand on her throat—her head was forced back, lower down than the window bill—her arms were up in that position (extended)—I could not see her hands—I spoke to him, and at the game moment I heard the door broken open, and she drew up.
Prisoner. Did you see me push my wife? Witness. I saw your hand on her throat, whether you were pushing her or grasping her, I can't say—there was no pulling up, it was all going down—your arm was out stiff—I could see from where I was—I had heard you say you would chuck her out of window, and I thought, if you did, you should not say she fell out, but I would see which way it was—I did not hear you say, she should not chuck herself out—the noise you made felt as if the house was pitching into the garden—I must have been asleep, and I was pitched out of bed on to the floor—I was on a bedstead, not a bed on the floor—I was really thrown out of my bed—I can't say how I got out; it is an old house—I might have fallen out, I was terrified.
DAVID WEST (Policeman D 160). On this morning I heard screams of "Murder!" from 21, Bell Street—I went up stairs to the first-floor, and met the prosecutrix—she said, "I give my husband in charge for attempting to murder me, by trying to push me out of the window"—the prisoner could hear that; it was on the landing—I went to the room door, and said to the prisoner, "Your wife charges you with attempting to murder her, and you must go to the station"—he said, "I will stab the first b——man that comes into the room"—I got the assistance of another constable and the landlord, and forced open the door; it was fastened by a sofa being pushed against it—the room was in great confusion, the furniture was broken all to pieces, and the floor was covered with blood—the prisoner had a poker in his hand, and I had my truncheon—we eventually took him to the station.
Prisoner. Did I not say that the first man that entered my room I would sweep his head off with the poker? Witness. You said you would stab the first b——man that came in; you were very violent—in going to the station you tried to get away, and got hold of my collar—I used my truncheon in the room, and might have given you a black-eye—you struck me with the poker, and knocked the candle out of my hand—you did not hit me, I evaded the blow.
Prisoner. Did I have the poker in my hand when you came into the room? Witness. I did not see it—I came in after the last witness, and when you saw me, you said you would go quietly—you were violent in going to the station—the other constable did not strike you, nor did I—you tried to get away several times.
Prisoner. Were they very severe? Witness. Yes; very severe—I did not see that you had a black-eye or a large swelling—I should think the bruises on your wife were caused by blows with a blunt instrument, not by a kick—she said they were done with the poker—I could not say that they were—the wound on Oliver's foot was probably caused by a piece of crockery, or something of that sort—it was a very severe wound, and was bleeding profusely.
The Prisoner addressed the Jury in a very violent and excited manner, accusing his wife of neglect and misconduct; and stated that, on coming home on the night in question intoxicated, he was irritated at finding nothing prepared for him, and commenced breaking the furniture to pieces, when she rushed to the window to throw herself out, and he went and pulled her back.
NOT GUILTY . Ordered to be detained, to be indicted at the next Sessions for an assault.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, September 24th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
813. WALTER WRIGHT (11), and THOMAS BOLTON (13) , to feloniously forging and uttering an order for the payment of 66l. 11s., with intent to defraud—>WRIGHT [Guilty: see original trial image.] One Month's Imprisonment, and Four Years in a Reformatory — BOLTON .received a good character— Judgment respited .—MR. POLAND stated that Wright had previously committed a similar offence
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
The evidence was interpreted to the prisoner.
JOHN TOWES (Policeman S 185). I was on duty at Harrow Wheel on the morning of 7th September, about 4 o'clock—I saw the prisoner and two other men coming from the direction of Mrs. Cross's house—the prisoner asked me for a light—he spoke in English—instead of giving him a light I detained him—the other two men ran away—I gave directions to my brother constable, and he followed them—I felt about the prisoner's clothes, and while I was doing so, he pulled out this purse, and gave it to me—there was no money in it, and I returned it to him—he said he was going to Edgeware—on the way to the station, he dropped this half crown—I picked it up and gave it to him—I searched him at the station, and found this half-crown, a sovereign, 41/2d. in coppers, and some matches—I did not find any purse—I am sure this is the same purse he handed to me; I took particular notice of it—I had obtained information that there had been a burglary committed, and I charged him with being concerned in breaking into the house of Mrs. Cross—he made no answer—I found this shawl in the directions the prisoner's companions ran, about six hours afterwards.
ISAAC MOXON . On the morning of the 7th September, about 4.45, I picked this purse up in the road, between the Edgware station and Mrs. Cross's house—I gave it to the constable—it had a very fine needle in it.
ANN MARIA JEFFKINS . On 6th September, I was taking care of Mrs. Cross's house, at Harrow—I fastened up the house about 9.30, before going to bed—I came down about 5.30 in the morning—I went into the sitting room, and found that the window was more than half-way open—I had a box in the room when I went to bed, containing a purse and some money—I looked at the box, and missed my purse—it contained an old guinea, and two foreign coins, and some needles—I also missed from my box half-a-sovereign,
5s. in silver, and a few coppers—this is my purse—the needles in it were various sizes—I know this half-crown to be mine, by a peculiar mark on it—I had noticed it before—this shawl is mine—I last saw it safe on Sunday, in the hall—a hole was bored in the frame of the window, and the hasp pushed back—I saw the policeman compare a gimlet with the hole, and it corresponded exactly.
The Prisoner, in his Defence, stated that he met two men, who gave him the things, and he did not know they were stolen.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM GEE . I am a printer, at 48, Seward Street, Goswell Road—on Saturday, the 5th September, about 12 o'clock, I was going home—when I was about twenty yards from my door, I received a violent blow on the head, which knocked me down, and rendered me insensible—when I came to myself, I found I was in my own house—the prisoner was brought there—I did not see the person who struck the blow—I had 7s. or 8s. in one pocket; that was turned completely out—I was very badly hurt, and have been attended by a surgeon.
WILLIAM KEANEY (Policeman G R 42). About 12.30, on the 5th September, I heard cries of "Stop thief!" come from the direction of Seward Street—I saw the prisoner and another man come running towards me from Seward Street, followed by fifteen or twenty persons—I seized them—the prisoner threw himself down, and pulled me on the top of him, and I was obliged to let the other one go—a man came up and said, "He is one of the two who ran from where Mr. Gee was knocked down"—the prisoner said nothing—I took him to the station.
MARY ANN KEEFE . I am the wife of John Keefe, and live at 34, Seward Street—on the night of the 5th September, about 12 o'clock, I was in Central Street—I saw the prosecutor fall, and two young men standing by him—I believe the prisoner was one of them—I called out, and they ran away, and I called out, "Stop them"—the prisoner was the shortest of the two—they ran in the direction of King Square, and when I called out, the other persons ran after them.
JOHN KEEFE . I am husband of the last witness, and I was with her on this night—I saw two men running from the direction of where Mr. Gee was knocked down—they ran in the direction of King Square, and were taken in King Square—I believe the prisoner was the shortest of the two men, but I can't swear to him positively, only that he is the same figure—I ran after them—I went up to the policeman, and told him I believed the prisoner was one of them.
HENRY SAYERS . I live at 1, Seward Street, and am a grocer—on the night of 5th September I was standing at my door—I heard a cry of "Oh!' and "Stop him,"—I saw Mr. Gee fall, and then two men run—I followed them into King Square—they had gained on me, and I ran round to the other side of the square and got there just as the constable and prisoner were getting up off the ground—I believe the prisoner was one of the men, from his appearance, but I can't swear positively to him—I only lost sight of him for a moment.
WILLIAM HARDING . I am a surgeon—I was sent for to attend Mr. Gee on Sunday Morning, about 12 o'clock—he was at that time recovering sensibility and complained of head-ache—he had a bruise on the side of the forehead—he complained of a pain in his side—I made an examination three days after, and found a fracture of the rib—he is still under medical treatment—a mere fall of itself would not have caused the injuries—the fracture of the rib might have been caused by his coming in contact with the kerb stone.
Prisoner's Defence. I was going up Central Street, and saw Mr. Gee laying down, very much intoxicated; a Chap said to me "Give me a hand up with him." No sooner had I got hold of him, than someone said "Look at those two Chaps with the man." I went about a dozen yards and they began to run, and I ran; I was caught and taken to the station; I know nothing about it.
MESSRS. METCALFE and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and
JOSEPH RUSSELL . I am Inspector of Police attached to the Great Eastern Railway—on the 15th February, 1867, in consequence of information I received, I went to a court leading out of Pelham Street, Brick Lane, with Borne other officers—I went into a back room, occupied by the prisoner and another man—the door was locked, and I got in through the window—I found two bags and a half, containing 2, 393 reels of silk, of this description—I also found some broken boxes—these (produced) are portions of them—there were labels on them, addressed to Messrs. Salter & Whiter, Spital Square—I also went to a small grocer's shop in Pelham Street, also occupied by the prisoner and another man; and in the back room I found a roll of silk velvet, which formed part of the robbery, of the value of about 20l., and some other articles that I was in search of—I had been on the look out for the prisoner since that time, but could not find him till the 27th of August in this year—I set a watch on the room and shop, but the prisoner never came there after—I found this hat in the room where I found the velvet.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen the prisoner in this shop? A. No—I was told that he occupied that shop—I have never seen the prisoner in either of the rooms—tho shop where I found the goods was furnished—there was no one there—it was a sleeping room—I found the reels of silk on 15th February, and the velvet on the 16th.
CHARLES PARMENTER . I am now, and was on the 15th February last year, in the employment of the Great Eastern Railway Company—on 15th February I went out with my cart, with some packages for Messrs. Salter & Co. and Mr. Kemp—I left the station about 8.20, and when I got outside the station I drew the cart up at the side of the road and left it for about twenty-five minutes—when I came back the horse and cart were gone.
in 1867 of stealing this horse and cart—I saw it in Brick Lane, with a load of boxes on it, and drove it to Pelham Street—I took the smaller boxes off by myself, and took them to the room in Pelham Court—the prisoner and another man were there when I put the boxes in the room—they were afterwards broken up—I then drove the cart away, and left it—I had told them there was a horse and cart, and then the other man said, "If you get it, bring it round here"—the prisoner was present—I knew them before—the prisoner lived at that place, and he also occupied the shop with the other man—I knew them at the room about three months—they had taken the shop about a week—I went back to the room about an hour after I had disposed of the cart—I saw two bags and a half of reels of silk, and the boxes broken up—the prisoner was there then—I have seen the prisoner wear a hat like the one produced—I saw the velvet in the shop when I got back, and I had seen it in the room before—I have completed my term of imprisonment—I had twelve months—I saw a pony and cart come to the shop in the afternoon, alter I had taken the goods—they took away a bag containing some velvet.
Cross-examined. Q. Was this the first transaction of the kind you had been engaged in? A. Yes—it was the first time I was found out—I saw the cart before the men said anything about it—I drove it away all alone—I know a man named Teddy Taylor; he is the other man—the prisoner and Taylor were the only persons who occupied that room—I asked a boy, named John Patten, to help me lift the boxes off the van—he was called as a witness against me—I took the cart to the shop first, and then to the room—it was used as a bedroom—I drove the van to Oxford Street, and then to Stepney, where I left it—I took it there of my own accord, they did not tell me where to take it to—I was Taylor's servant—Taylor said he would buy the things of me when I told him about the van—I told him about a fortnight before the robbery that there was a cart—the prisoner was there then—I did not know the contents of the cart when I drove it away.
JOHN BURROWS (Policeman H R 40). On 13th February, 1867, I saw the prisoner and Taylor in Pelham Street—I followed them, and saw them go into the house up the court—I went up to the door and found it fastened—I then pushed the window open, and asked them what they did there—the prisoner said, "We live here, and if you wait you can see me get into bed"—I waited a little time and then left—I afterwards received instructions to find the prisoner and Taylor, but could not—I saw them on the 14th, in Brick Lane, and spoke to them—the prisoner asked me if I would have any gin, and I said I did not care about it then—I never saw him again till I saw him at the police-station—I believe this hat is the one he had on on the 14th.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the property found? A. Yes—I went to the room on the 15th—I was not the first to go there.
ROBERT DOUGHTY (Policeman 38 H R). I took the prisoner into custody on 27th August—I told him I should take him for being concerned with others in stealing a horse and cart and some silk, from outside the Brick Lane station, about eighteen months back—he said, "Not me, I know nothing about it"—I took him to the station, and sent for Inspector Russell; he was there identified by Burrows, and seven or eight others.
JAMES JOSHUA WHITER . I am a member of the firm of Whiter and Salter, of Spital Square—I have seen these reels of silk, they are my property, and form portion of a large quantity; I have seen the portions of the
boxes, they are my property, they were the boxes in which the silk was packed. GUILTY . Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA YATES . I am the wife of Benjamin Yates—on the 14th September, about 5.30, I was standing on London Bridge, talking to a policeman named Dyer—he was in plain clothes—I was close up to the parapet of the bridge, and was resting my baby on my knee, and had a small parcel in the other hand—the prisoner came up and pretended to look into the water—I felt his hand go into my pocket, I made a catch at it, and turned round and said to the constable, "That man has robbed me"—the prisoner run away, and the constable after him—I had only just put my money in my pocket—there was a half-crown, three shillings, and two sixpences—I examined it afterwards, and found that the half-crown was gone.
HERBERT DYER (Policeman 150 H). About 5.30, on the 14th, I was on London Bridge, in plain clothes, talking to the last witness—I saw the prisoner come up, and place himself beside her—I was on one side, and he on the other—she had a baby on her knee—she turned round and said, "That man has picked my pocket"—he ran away, and I ran after him and caught him, about 100 yards off—he refused his address.
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I work very hard. I wish you could settle it here."
Prisoner's Defence. I had some work at five o'clock—it was past five, and that is the reason I was running—I heard a man call "Stop thief!"—I stood on the kerb, and the man caught hold of me.
GUILTY . He further PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted on 3rd June, 1867. Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN OAKLEY . I am a cab proprietor, at Camden Town—Allen was in my employment for some time as night watchman—he was well acquainted with the premises—on 31st August I went to bed about 11 o'clock—I heard no cab go out of my yard that night—I went down a little after 5 o'clock next morning—I missed a horse and cab, and three sets of single harness, and one set of double—the gates of the yard were open, and a quantity of sacks strewed about where the horse came out of the stable—my painters missed a paint brush out of the shop—the cab had, "Great Northern, No. 49," on it—I saw it between 10 and 11 o'clock—it was brought to my place by a constable—the name on the cab was then smudged over—a paint brush was found in the cab—I have not seen the harness since—I saw it safe the night before.
Berry. I know nothing of it.
Allen. I can prove I was in bed at the time.
beer-shop—they then went to the corner of the Gray's Inn Road—I followed them to within about seven minutes' walk of Mr. Oakley's yard—they then saw me, and I went away—I saw them last about 11.30, together.
FRANCIS DRAKE . I am an omnibus driver, and live at 10, Pelham Place, Notting Hill—on 1st September I was walking down Notting Hill, about 7.30 in the morning—I saw a cab come up, painted blue with white wheels—I knew it to be a Great Northern cab—the "Great Northern" was smudged over—Allen was driving—there was another man with him, but I could not see him; he was sitting on the other side—I saw them put the cab on a rank opposite Holland Park—I went down to the park, and came back about 9.30—I then saw the officer, and another man on the cab—I told him what I knew about it.
Allen. Do you know what sort of hat I had on? Witness. No—I can only swear to your face.
CHARLES TAVENDER . I am a cab driver, and live at Crescent Street, Notting Hill—on the morning of the 1st September, I came out of a publichouse, and saw a cab pass me—it was a Great Northern cab, with the name painted out—Allen was driving—there was another man on the box with him, but I can't swear to him.
ALFRED YOUNG (Policeman X 215). On 1st September, between 9 and 10 o'clock in the morning, my attention was drawn to a cab in the Uxbridge Road—it was a four-wheeled cab, and the name "Great Northern Railway" was painted out—no one was in charge of it—I looked inside and found a paint brush, and in the boot some sacks—I took it to the station, and then to Mr. Oakley's.
BERRY— NOT GUILTY .
ALLEN— GUILTY . He further PLEADED GUILTY> to having been before convicted on 12th August, 1867.
No evidence was offered against Susan Bryant.— NOT GUILTY .
GEORGE COOPER . I am a cab proprietor, at Thanet Street, Burton Crescent—on the morning of the 4th September, I went down my yard—I noticed a rug lying against the stable door—it was not a proper place for it to be—I went a little further into the stable, and kicked against a horse collar—I then lit the gas, and the two prisoners rushed up the yard—I caught them getting through a little wicket, about thirty yards from the stable—I seized them, and called "Police!"—I succeeded in holding them both till someone came to my assistance, and then Berry got away—I left Allen with another man, and ran after Berry, and saw him stopped by a constable—there was about a cab load of things put outside the stable ready to take away—I had been to a midnight meeting about the cab strike, and came home late—they must have got over the yard gate—the stable doors were not locked—we do not lock them at this time of year.
ALLEN— GUILTY **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
BERRY— GUILTY .—He further PLEADED GUILTY to having been before Convicted on 21st January, 1867**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; MR. STRAIGHT defended King
and MR. PATER defended Bennett.
GEORGE SEYMOUR . I am an oil and colorman, and live at 27, Winchester Street, Bethnal Green—one morning in August I was awoke about 5 o'clock by the police knocking—I got up, looked out of window, and saw the two prisoners in the custody of a policeman—there is a fanlight over the door of my shop—the glass was broken some time ago—I had nailed a small piece of board across—when I came down it was hanging by a nail—I touched it, and it fell down directly—it was all right when I went to bed.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Is the door taller than you? A. Yes—I could not reach it from the pavement with my hand—it was a wooden lath of a bedstead I put across—I nailed it on both sides.
JOHN NEAL (Policeman 14 H.) On 22nd August, about 4.45 in the morning, I saw the prisoner and another person in front of the prosecutor's home—the two prisoners were standing against the door, and the third person was getting in through the fanlight—one of the prisoners said, "Here comes the slop, come down!"—he came down, and they ran away—I followed, and caught the two prisoners—Bennett said he was going to bathe, and King said he was merely passing that way.
Cross-examined by MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Who ran away first? A. They ran together—I can't say who was leading—there was nothing moved in the shop—the fanlight was at the top of the door—there was no glass in it.
THOMAS TOOTH (Policeman 154 H.) On the night in question I was on duty at 2 o'clock, and saw the prisoner and another man sitting under the railway arches in Nottingham Street, about 300 yards from the prosecutor's shop—I told them to go away, and they said "All right," and went away—I saw them again at 4 o'clock—I did not speak to them then—I saw them running after that, and helped to take them to the station.
COURT to GEORGE SEYMOUR. Q. Did the lath fill up the whole space over the door? A. No—it was only about four inches wide—there was not room for a person to get in without moving it, and not much room when it was moved.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE, for the Prosecution, offered no Evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Friday, September 25th, 1868.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MESSRS. WOOD and ATKINSON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
victualler—He was thirty-eight years of age—on the evening of 1st July, the prisoner came in for half a pint of beer—soon afterwards some others came in, and began chaffing him, and they all went out to fight—the prisoner had been drinking—his wife was there—she ran out, and fell down with two or three man at the door—my husband went to extricate her from the men—she was struggling with them on the ground—the prisoner came up at the time, and hit my husband in the mouth, which splintered one of his teeth—he knocked him down and kicked him several times in the lower part of his person—nothing had passed between the prisoner and my husband before that—he got up and the prisoner closed with him, and they fell down together—they afterwards struggled into the bar together, and I went and put my arm round my husband's neck, and said, "You vagabond, you have knocked him about enough, if you want to hit again, hit me"—he made no answer—I then led my husband into the bar parlour, and the prisoner went out—next morning, soon after I had opened the bar, the prisoner came and called for a glass of six ale, and said, "Where is the landlord"—I said, "He is not up yet, he is very poorly with the knocking about you gave him last night: what is it you want with him"—he said, "I want to fight him; I will either kill him, or he shall me; if I could see him I would like to rip his b——liver up"—he waited there the greater part of an hour to see my husband, but I went and told him not to come down, and the prisoner then left—my husband was very poorly that morning, and very sore from the kicks he had received—he got up then, but was very poorly for more than a week, and then he took to his bed—he was in bed about three weeks before he died—Dr. Watson attended him first, and afterwards Dr. Greenwood—the day before ho died, he got up and went out for a walk—he was not out long, I can't say how long—he died at 4: 10 on Wednesday morning, 12th August—he was very ill all the night before—he was sensible part of the time—he did not think he was so bad as he was, neither did I—he was a very temperate man—I never saw him the worse for drink but twice in the ten years we were married—he was in very good health up to this time—Dr. Watson saw him before his death.
Cross-examined. Q. Was your husband sober on the night in question? A. He was—I was standing behind my bar when I saw him kicked—I am positive of that—I can't say how many people there were fighting altogether—I could see no one else but the prisoner and my husband by the door; I was not looking—this was the second day of the Alexandra Park Races—there were very few persons about on this evening—I did not see the prisoner's wife struck—my husband had had a tooth extracted two or three days before, but that had nothing to do with the splintered tooth—it was more than a week afterwards before Dr. Watson saw my husband, I don't remember the date—he had insured his life about six months previously—the policy has not been paid—the office do not dispute it; it is their rule not to pay within three months—I am positive my husband did not strike the prisoner—Dr. Greenwood is the doctor of my husband's club—he had belonged to it nineteen years, and had only been twice on the sick list in that time—I never said that he had something the matter with his liver, and if he had the doctor in time, perhaps he would patch him up a bit—I know Mrs. Furnival by her coming to my bar—I don't remember saying anything of that kind to her—the prisoner lived a short distance from our place—no charge was made against him till after my husband's death—my husband said he did not want to hurt the man, it would do him no good.
MARY ANN CUDDIFORD . I reside at Gothic Villa, West Green Road, and am nurse to an invalid lady—my husband is a shoemaker—I had occasion to go to the Duke of Cambridge, between 10 and 11 o'clock one evening, I don't remember the date, and I saw a lot of men and women there, quarrelling—I looked inside to sec if my husband was there, but he was not—I saw the prisoner standing at the bar with others—they were all quarrelling and jangling together, and they came out and had a fight in the road—there were three navvies, the prisoner, and his wife—the navvies knocked his wife down, and she cried "Murder!" as loud as she could, and Mr. Seddon went out to her assistance—she was lying in the road—he tried to lift her up, and the prisoner came up and pushed him away, and hit him in the mouth, and knocked him down; and as he was getting up he kicked him three or four times behind in the lower part of his body—I said, "You vagabond, what did you kick the man like that for"—he made use of very bad language, and said he would serve me the same if I did not go about my business—he was in a dreadful passion—Mr. Seddon got up and went into the bar, and the prisoner ran after him—I did not go in, I stood at the door and saw Mr. Seddon go into the parlour—I heard Mrs. Seddon say, "You vagabond, what are you hitting him for, you shall not hit him, you shall hit me"—I saw no more.
Cross-examined. Q. How long had you been at the public-house before this row took place? A. About five or ten minutes—I thought Mr. Seddon had had a little drink, but it appears I made a mistake—he was very much excited—there were three fights going on at the same time—there was an ostler there fighting, he got a very severe black eye—every one of them was more or less drunk, there was not one sober—they were all fighting and quarrelling—I did not see a man named Gale there—I saw Ann Coleman, the ostler's wife, persuading her husband not to fight.
MR. WOOD. Q. Who were fighting? A. The three navvies—the ostler and another man, and the prisoner; I saw him knock Mr. Seddon down; before that he was fighting with the navvies, they had been insulting his wife in some way or other, they knocked her down, and she cried murder; they were all quarrelling and fighting together in the road—I don't know what was the beginning of it; when I first saw them they were all jangling inside the house.
DR. GREENWOOD. I reside at Canonbury Square, Islington—I knew the deceased about twelve years, and attended him professionally, previous to 14th July his general health was very good—six months ago Dr. Gibbon examined him with reference to a life assurance, and he was accepted as a first class life—I was called in to sec him on 28th July, a few weeks after this occurrence; he was then suffering from exhaustion and collapse, in consequence of a largo abscess; he complained of pain, it was a peroneal abscess, it was situated at the end of the spine, about an inch from the anus—there was a great deal of sloughing, the abscess had been opened by another doctor—it must have been caused by a good deal of violence—there was a great deal of bruising—the prostration was caused by the abscess, that would be the natural effect of it—he gradually sank, and died on 12th August, early in the morning—I attribute his death to the exhaustion consequent on the abscess.
REBECCA SEDDON (re-examined). My husband was bruised very much on the lower part of the right thigh, it had a black contused appearance—there was another bruise, more in front, but I can't say exactly where—I believe he showed his bruises to the constable.
MR. WILLIAMS called the following Witnesses for the Defence:—
WILLIAM GALE . I am a carpenter at West Green, Tottenham—I was at the deceased's public house, I came there just as the disturbance took place—some men were fighting, a few yards further on a woman was lying in the road fainting—I went across to the landlord (the deceased), who stood in the channel where the water runs, and asked him what the row was, and while I stood talking to him the prisoner came across from the fight, and accused the landlord of having struck his wife—he made a strike at the landlord, and they closed and fell—I saw all that took place after that, I was right by their side—the prisoner never kicked him—no one from inside the bar could see what took place at this spot, it was too far off, and rather dark—it was 10.30—the landlord jumped up, left the prisoner lying on the ground, and went in-doors, and ran and jumped over his bar—the prisoner stopped till his mates came up, and they all went in—some went into the tap-room, the prisoner went to the bar, and the landlord struck him, and cut his nose—I was examined before the Magistrate—I was a stranger to the prisoner before this.
Cross-examined. Q. Where had you been that day? A. I left home about 12 and 1, and went to Wood Green to see the people come from the races, and stopped to see the chaps play at throwing at cocoa-nuts, and looking at one thing or another—I did not have above two glasses of ale all the time—I went to the Duke of Cambridge on my way home—I was alone—there were about a dozen people in the road, the ostler and the prisoner were fighting, three or four yards from the public-house—there was light from that and from a lamp—the woman was lying in the road a few yards put the door—the prisoner did not run in after the deceased—I swear that—he stopped till the row was over, about ten minutes, and then he went in with the others—we all went in together, and then the landlord struck him on the nose—I was perfectly sober.
ANN COLEMAN . I am the wife of Thomas Coleman, of West Green, Tottenham—I went to the Duke of Cambridge on this evening, to see if my husband was coming home, he had been engaged as ostler there two days—as I was waiting outside a rush came out, and two or three persons got pushed down, my husband got knocked down for one, by two men with white slops on—presently I saw Mr. Seddon come out, the prisoner went up to him, and said, "You are the man that hit my wife"—he went across, close by the palings, and I saw them fall together, Mr. Seddon at the top—he got up and went in-doors, and that was all I saw—the prisoner did not kick him, I must have seen it if he had—they were both full of drink—the prisoner was very drunk—I saw Mr. Seddon get up and run in-doors—there was no kicking—I have known the prisoner about eight months, he lodged in my house; he is a very quiet, sober man.
Cross-examined. Q. How long were you at the public-house? A. I was about an hour outside, not in the house—I did not see any fighting—I believe there was a row lower down, but I was not near that—it was twelve
or fourteen yards from the house where the prisoner and Mr. Seddon fell against the palings—I did not see any woman there—the prisoner's wife was in the road, but not near Mr. Seddon—the prisoner was not near where the fighting was—they were some navvies—I saw the prisoner go into the public-house after Mr. Seddon—he went in directly after him—I am quite sure there was no kicking.
DR. GREENWOOD (re-examined). I made a post-mortem examination—there was nothing in that to alter my opinion—he must have died from the Abscess, and no other cause—this brain and every other organ was perfectly healthy—it is not remarkable that he should have been able to walk the day before his death, we often notice that just before death persons get up and do strange things, even when they are dying from exhaustion—the man died from convulsions, brought on in consequence of that; but I did not see that, Dr. Watson saw him—he is in Court—convulsions are very likely to occur in such cases.
GUILTY—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, in consequence of the provocation he fancied he had received. — Two Months' Imprisonment .
THIRD COURT.—Friday, September 25th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
ANDREW WALSH . I am an engineer, of 1, Elizabeth Street, Poplar—the prisoner is my landlord, and resided in the same house—on Tuesday evening, 8th September, about 7.45, I was in my room with my daughter; the door was closed—the prisoner suddenly came in, with a spade in his hand—he hit me two blows on the forehead with it, and I fell down insensible—I had not spoken to him at all that evening—my wounds were dressed at the station the same evening—I was sitting in a chair by the window, and the prisoner threw a saucepan into the room, and then came in with the spade—it was my saucepan, and was kept on the landing outside.
REBECCA WALSH . I am the daughter of the last witness—I came home about 7.40, and went to our room—the prisoner came up, burst the door open, and threw in a tin saucepan, and two iron ones, and then a small washing tub, which struck me on the leg—I called my father, and the prisoner then came into the room, with the spade in his hands—he struck my father before he could ask what was the matter, and he fell—I caught him—the prisoner then struck him another blow across the nose, and the third blow glanced off his head on to his elbow—he was insensible for twenty minutes.
WILLIAM SHARPLING (Policeman K 99). I went to the house occupied by the prisoner and prosecutor—I saw the prosecutor in an arm chair, holding his head, and bleeding from the nose—I found the prisoner in the kitchen, and asked him if he was the man who cut the other across the nose—he said, "Yes"—I said "You must come to the station with me," and he went quietly.
MATHEW BROWNFIELD . I am divisional surgeon to the Poplar Police—I examined the prosecutor on the evening of the 8th September—he had one wound on the forehead, and three on the nose, such as would be produced
by the flat part of this spade—one blow might have caused the four wounds.
Prisoner's Defence.—The father took up a saucepan, and swung it round his head, and I took up the spade to defend myself, I had no wish to injure the man at all.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding— Six Months' Imprisonment .
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution; MR. LEWIS appeared for Stanborough,
and MR. PATER for Denton.
JOSEPH HART . I am a porter at the office of the "Christian World" newspaper—about 8.30, on 12th August, I saw some letters and papers in the office, on the counter—they had been delivered soon after 8 on that morning—I should say there were 90 or 100—I do not remember seeing either of the prisoners there that morning—on the 18th, about 100 letters and news papers were delivered—I saw them when I went to the office about 8.30—I mined them just before 9—the prisoners had both been to the office between 8.30 and 9, to deliver works from the printers—no other persons came in between 8.45 and a few minutes after 9 but the prisoners.
ALFRED HARPER . I am in the employment of Mr. Rankin, printer, of Drury Court, Strand—the prisoners are in his service—on 18th August, I went to the "Christian World" office with them, with a truck load of "Happy Hours"—we got there at 8.45, and the prisoners took the books into the office—I remained outside—when they came out the last time, I noticed something rather bulky under Stanborough's coat—I did not see what it was—he had not got it when he went in.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Are you in the same service? A. Yes—I only went on that morning—I do not know how long Stanborough has been in the employment—his coat was open when he went in, and buttoned when he came out—he walked away—I asked him where he was going to, and he made no reply—I went home with the truck with Denton—Stanborough went up Chancery Lane—I can't say what the bulk was—it was too much for a pocket handkerchief.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Have you heard Denton say that he did not see any parcel taken by the other boy? A. Yes.
ISAAC DIMES . I am a letter carrier in the Post Office—I delivered some letters at the "Christian World" office, on the 12th, and about 100 on the 18th August, there were newspapers and books as well—I gave them to. Mr. Davey, the housekeeper.
WILLIAM DAVEY . I am housekeeper at the "Christian World" office—on 18th August, I received a quantity of letters from the last witness, and laid them on the counter—when the porter came I went out and left him in charge—I saw the letter in the evening when they were found—this one was on the top when they were delivered to me.
JOHN WEBBER (City Detective 431). On 18th August, I went with the porter of the "Christian World" office to some ruins in Carey Street, with Denton, by the orders of the Alderman at Guildhall—I went into a house and left Denton outside—I came out and saw him in the hands of the watchman of the ruins—he said he saw him coming from a vault—we
went to the vault, and found sixteen letters, and fifteen envelopes, addressed to Messrs. Clarko & Co.—I asked Denton if ho knew anything about them and he said he did not—I then took him to the station, and he was discharged—I took Stanborough into custody, he said he knew nothing of it—I found nothing on him at all.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Did you say to Stanborough "What have you done with the papers? A. Yes—Mr. Clarke said if he would tell him where the letters were, he would forgive him, and he still denied knowing anything about them.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Was Denton examined as a witness? A. Yes, and what he told me, he stated on oath.
HENRY SELL . I am a clerk in the employ of the proprietors of the "Christian World"—I remember some letters being missed from the office—I went to the ruins between the Strand and Carey Street, to see if I could see any—as I was coming away, I saw Denton with a bundle under his left arm, on the inside of the palings—when he saw us he ran away, we ran after him up Clement's Lane, and then lost sight of him—he was afterwards found in a dust hole, and about 100 letters were found under a barrel a little way off—he was given into custody; he wanted us to let him go, but we would not.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Were you with the constable? A. No—Denton was examined as a witness against Stanborough on the Tuesday—it was Tuesday the letters were found, between 6.30 and 7 in the evening.
The prisoners received good characters.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution; MR. WOOD appeared for Brown,
and MR. HARRIS for Donovan.
JAMES HANN . (City Detective). On 28th August, about 5 o'clock in the morning, I was in Bouverie Street, watching the "Daily News" office—I saw two carts standing there, I longing to W. If. Smith & Co.—Brown was the driver of No. 10 cart—Donovan came out of the office with a bundle of papers on his back—he spoke to the driver of the other cart, No. 18—and then went to Brown, who opened a bundle of papers that were lying on the foot board of No. 10 cart—he took three quires and put them on the top of the bundle that Donovan was carrying on his back—Donovan then left, and I followed him into Tudor Street—on the way I had the three quires of paper marked as he was currying them—I did not mark them myself—he carried them to Mr. Atkinson's shop in Tudor Street, put them down at the door and waited a quarter of an hour till Mr. Atkinson opened it—Donovan took up the three quires that were marked and gave them to Mr. Atkimon—he then took the bundle he had brought from the "Daily News" office into the shop—I waited about ten minutes, when Donovan came out—I asked him whose papers they were he had taken into the shop—he said they belonged to Mr. Atkinson—I told him I saw him receive three quires from the driver of one of Mr. Smith's carts in Bouverie Street, a short time since—he said he did not—he said "All the papers I took into Mr. Atkinson I brought from the "Daily News" office—I took him in custody, handed him over to another officer, and then went to Mr. Atkinson's shop—I found the
three quires of the "Daily News" which had been marked—one quire was in the window, one on the counter, and one in the back parlour—I then took Atkinson in custody for receiving them, knowing them to be stolen—he was afterwards discharged—after the charge was read over Donovan said, "Brown told me he had three quires over and asked me to take them"—that was after Brown had said he had given him three quires.
Cross-examined. Q. You say you saw him go to No. 18 cart first? A. Yes—I should think he spoke to the driver—he did not receive any papers from that cart—the two carts had their backs to one another—I was in a house exactly opposite—I can't say that Donovan spoke to Brown—he stooped down for Brown to put the papers on his back—my son put the marks on the papers—he is not here.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. Does Donovan work for Atkinson? A. He fetches the papers in the morning for him, and after that hawks papers himself—when he got to the shop he went across the street and called to Atkinson to open the door—the three quires were at the bottom then—he moved the bundle and gave them to Atkinson—he took the bundle in himself—I sent my son in for him and he came out—I told him I saw him receive three quires of newspapers from one of Mr. Smith's drivers, and he said he got them from the "Daily News" office.
ISAAC FARLEY . (City Detective). I was with the last witness in Bouverie Street—I saw Brown with a cart at the "Daily News" office—he went on to the foot board and untied a bundle of papers—he took out three quires and put them on Donovan's shoulder—Donovan went away—I made my way to Mr. Smith's in the Strand, and got there just at the time that Brown did—I told him I should take him for stealing three or four quires of papers from a bundle on the foot board and giving them to Donovan, Mr. Atkinson's man—I then fold Mr. Monger to count them—Brown said "You need not count them; it was three quires I gave to Atkinson's man"—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. Did you see Donovan speak to the driver of No. 18 cart? A. I did—I saw Brown undo a bundle on the footboard—the bundle was tied up again.
JOHN DAVIES . I am assistant-publisher of the "Daily News"—I had a written order from Mr. Atkinson for papers—I have not got it here—Donovan handed me an order on 28th August—I gave him a bundle containing twenty-five quires—that is nearly as much as one man can carry—they were tied up in one packet—I did not give him any loose quires.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. Were the carts loading from your office? A. Yes—they bring an order, the same as Mr. Atkinson—there are three carts which come to our office for papers from Messrs. Smith's—the paper on the foot-board was a bundle I had given to Brown—there if sometimes a sheet short in a quire, but I have never known it to be more.
COURT to JOHN DAVIES. Q. Was Mr. Atkinson's order completed? A. The order was for forty-four quires—Donovan took away twenty-five, and the other nineteen were fetched about ten minutes after.
Witness for Donovan.
Donovan all his life, and for borne years I have supplied him with newspapers—I have always found him honest in everything.
COURT. Q.. Did you know that he brought you three extra quires? A. I never knew whether they belonged to me or not—Hann never showed me any mark till I got to the station—they may have been mine, for all I know.
GUILTY . Eighteen Months' Imprisonment each .
MR. CLARE conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCES SNOW . I am servant to Mr. Howard—about 6.50 on Wednesday morning, 9th September—I went down into the kitchen, I found the window open, top and bottom, and the shutters slightly open—the backdoor leading to the garden was open—there was a pair of steps against the window—I went into the parlour, and found some burnt paper on the table—the plate basket was on the table, empty—I went and told my master and mistress—I left at 9 o'clock the night before—I did not sleep in the house then.
JANE HOWARD . I am the wife of Arthur Howard, and reside at Clapton—on 9th September my servant made a communication to me, and I went down stairs—I missed a quantity of things—these are some of them (produced)—there are a few articles missing now—they were safe the night before—I fastened the house up at 10.50.
HENRY WESTON . I live at 6, Glen's Buildings, Homerton—on Wednesday, 9th September, I was at work in Mr. Stephens' rick-yard, at Homerton—that is about a mile from the prosecutor's house—in the afternoon I was cleaning, near a straw stack, and saw this property (produced) covered by a truss of straw—a policeman and myself watched from about 6 o'clock till 7.45—we saw the prisoner come up a field directly to the place where the property was—he pulled the straw on one side—he then stood and looked all round—he saw the policeman behind the stack, and then stepped away from the stack-yard briskly—the policeman went round the other side and apprehended him—the policeman asked him what his business was, and after a while, he said, "He had come for a rope, to get a horse out of the ditch"—the policeman said, "You do not look for ropes in straw stacks," and he made no answer—it was not very dark; we could see two hundred yards.
Prisoner. Did I not come straight from where a horse was in a ditch? Witness. No; you came up the middle of the field—anyone could have seen you from the stack-yard, but we were the other side of the stack—there was a horse in a ditch near there.
JONATHAN JENNINGS (Policeman N 247). From information I received I went to Mr. Stephens' rick vard on the 9th, about 6 o'clock—I concealed myself behind a haystack—about 7.45 I saw the prisoner come up the field to the stack yard—he moved some straw on one side—he then stood for a minute and looked round—he caught sight of me, and began to move away—I went round the other side of the stack and apprehended him—after I had him about a minute and a half, he said, "I want a rope, there is a horse in the ditch"—I said, "It is u funny place to look for a rope, in that straw stack"—I took him to the stack and took out the property—it was exposed by his pulling the straw on one side—this is a portion of it, and some more was found on the following Friday.
DAVID REEVES . I live at 4, Church Terrace, Homerton—I know where the prisoner lives—last Wednesday fortnight I saw him looking out at his window with two eye things—he was looking in the direction of Mr. Stephens' yard
Witness for the Defence.
MARGARET SAMPSON . I am the prisoner's sister-in-law—he lives in the same house with me, No. 3, Thatch Court—I remember the Wednesday he was taken—on the Tuesday night he slept in the same room with me—he was in doors at 9 o'clock and never went out till 6 the next morning—he usually sleeps in that room—I left my work at 8.30, and got home at 8.45—he was at a beer shop then—I went and fetched him home to his supper—I never heard him go out again, and I slept in the room the whole of the night.
MR. CLARE. called the following Witnesses in reply.
COURT. Q. Do you know where he lives? A. Yes; about 300 yards from the prosecutor's house—he was going away from his own house.
EDWARD GARDNER (Policeman 40). I saw the prisoner on the 8th September, about 9.10, at the corner of Brooks' Walk, and again about 9.30, and going in the direction of the prosecutor's house—he was with two other men—he left the two others—they went to the back of the church, and the prisoner went to the front, and I lost sight of them altogether.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DOUGLAS the Defence.
HUBERT WALDRON BYRNES . I am a compositor, and live at 141, Fetter Lane—on 22nd August I was in Fetter Lane, about 1.30 in the morning—I saw the prisoner there—I passed her, and then heard her coming after me—she rushed up to me and threw her arms round me—I pushed her away—she followed me—when I got a few yards from my house she threw her arms round me again, and asked me to go with her—I had a purse in the breast pocket of my coat—I pushed her off me again, and then missed my purse, containing a sovereign, a half-sovereign, and 6s. in silver—I turned round and saw her running away—I ran after her and caught her—I told her if she would give me my purse and money I would not give her in charge, but if not I should give her in custody—she then dropped 2s. in the road—I let go one of her hands to pick it up, and she thrust the purse into my pocket again—the elastic band was broken, it was all right when I had it before—a constable came up and I gave her in custody—she then said if the constable would take her to some address the money should be made good.
Cross-examined. Had you seen the prisoner before? A. Never to my knowledge—I was as collected as I am now—I had had a few glasses of wine with a friend in Long Lane—there were two other women a short distance off—we had no conversation—there were other persons about—when she ran away from me, she ran towards them.
JOHN ELLIOTT (Policeman 15 AR). On 22nd August, about 1.30, I was in Fetter Lane, near the Record Offices—I saw the prisoner accosting the last witness—I heard him accuse her of taking 1l. 16s. from his purse, and he said if she would return it, he would not give her in charge—as I was crossing the road, the prisoner dropped some money, only two shillings were found—she was given into custody—I took her to the station, and four more shilings were found on her—she said, if I would go with her to 31, Monier Street, City Road, she would make it all right with him.
GUILTY . She was further charged with having been before convicted in February, 1864, to which she PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude ,
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; MR. HARRIS appeared for Ives, and MR. W. SLEIGH for Bryant.
JOSEPH WARSHOP . I am a wharfinger, of 16, Edgar Road, Bromley—Saturday, 16th August, about 12 o'clock, I was in South Grove, Mile End Road, with my two sons—I left them for a necessary purpose—as I turned the corner of South Grove, the three prisoners shoved against me—I turned round and asked them what they insulted me for, and I received a blow in the mouth, which knocked me down—I do not know who struck me—I got up again, and the prisoner Ives struck me another blow, which knocked me down again—they took part of my chain, my stick, and my hat—the other part of the chain is on the watch now—I had hold of my watch, and they could not get that—I saw the prisoners in custody, on the Sunday night following—I immediately recognized them as the persons who had robbed me—they were the three persons
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Where had you been during the evening? A. To see some friends in Oxford Street, with my son—we walked all the way home—we left Oxford Street at 7.30—we went into two or three public-house—I had some beer, but no spirits—we had two pots of beer amongst four—there was a lamp close to where I was knocked down—I have no doubt that they are the men—Bryant had the same coat he has on now—I identify him by his features—I saw them in the Plough public-house when I came out—they came out after me, and when I turned the corner they shoved against me, and knocked me down with a blow—I had nothing to drink in the Plough—my sons went in first; they had something to drink—I left my work at 2 o'clock—I did not go into any public-house before 7 o'clock.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. Then you were perfectly sober?—the light was about three yards from where I was knocked down—South Grove is a thoroughfare—only these three men ran against me—I saw Ives at the Police Court on the Sunday after; about a dozen persons were there—I picked out two first, and then I picked out a detective by mistake—the sergeant said, "Stand up," the persons all stood up, and I picked out Ives directly—he had on a dark coat and light waistcoat—I gave a description of him to the police.
Cleveland. I was not there.
MR. PATER. Q. How far was it from the Plough to where you were Knocked down? A. About two or three yards—I saw the three prisoners in the Plough—when they shoved against me, I recognized them as the persons I had seen in the Plough.
JOSEPH WARSOP . I live at 16, Edgar Road, Bromley, and am cashier to a contractor—I was with my father on Saturday night, 16th August—he left me for a minute—I heard him call "Joe"—I went in the direction the call came from, and saw Bryant coming towards me at a very swift walk—my father was sober, and so was I.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Did yon leave home with your father? A. No; he came to me about 11.45, as I was coming from a meeting—we went into the Plough—I believe I saw the prisoners there—we had three glasses of ale in the Plough; myself, my brother, and a gentleman named West, who had been to the meeting with me—my father had nothing there—I believe Bryant was the man who passed me; I can't swear to him—I went to the Police Station with my father—he pointed out a man who afterwards turned out to be a detective; but he said directly after that Ives was the one—Bryant and Cleveland were picked out first—I saw Ives in the Plough, with two men and two women—I cannot recognize these two men as being the two who were with him.
RICHARD BROOKFIELD (Policeman K 271). On Saturday night, 16th August, I was in South Grove, Mile End Road, at 11.15—I saw the prisoner going down the grove—they went to the Crown and Sceptre beer-shop, with two other men—just before 12, I went down South Grove, and saw the three prisoners come up—I received information that a gentleman had been knocked down, went to the top of the grove, and saw Ives standing there—I told him to go away—on the following morning I received a description from Mr. Warsop, in consequence of which I apprehended the prisoners—I took Cleveland first, opposite the Plough—I told him he was charged, with two others, with assaulting a gentleman named Warsop, and robbing him—he said, "I know nothing about it"—at the station he said, "I did not do it, but I can bring witnesses to prove who did"—I took Bryant opposite the station, and he said, "I was in bed at 10 o'clock'—I said, "How could you be in bed, when I saw you in the grove?—he said, "I woke up, and went out to have a pint of beer—I took Ives in Regent Street, Mile End Road, the same day, about 6.15—I told him the charge—he said he was not near the place—I said, "How was it that I ordered you away from there—he said, "I came up to see what was the matter"—I found this piece of chain near the spot—it has been identified by the prosecutor—there is a lamp at the corner of the road.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Did you write down the description at the time? A. No—the description of Bryant was that he had a dark coat—he could not describe Bryant's features—Ives had a sort of Prince of Wales's hat on—I was present when they were identified by Mr. Warsop—Cleveland was picked out first, and Bryant next—a police constable was sitting down in plain clothes, and he said, "That is the man"—the sergeant told them all to stand up, and he picked out Ives, and said, "I believe that is the man"—Ives was picked out last.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. Then it was in consequence of Mr. Warsop saying that one had a Prince of Wales' hat that you took Ives? A. Yes—I believe it is a sort of billycock hat—I don't know that a Prince of Wales' hat is the same as a billycock—I told Ives to go away when I saw
him in South Grove—there was a mob there then—he went away—the man that was picked out as Ives is not here—I don't think he was much like Ives—he had got whiskers, but not as long as Ives.
Cross-examined by MR. W. SLEIGH. Q. Who was he with? A. He was talking to a woman—there were other persons there—I did not see him afterwards.
Witness for Cleveland.
THOMAS CARTWRIGHT . I am barman at the Went worth Arms, Bow, about two minutes' walk from the Plough—I know Cleveland as a customer—about 11.45 on this Saturday night, I served him with a pint of ale—he stood there till we closed, a few minutes before 12—he was very drunk.
Cross-examined. Q. How many other persons were there in the house? A. Six or seven—I took particular notice of the time, because it was near closing time—I know Bryant by sight—he might have been in there with Cleveland half an hour before—I was examined before the Magistrate—he might have left at 11.55; I can't say.
Witnesses for Bryant.
JEREMIAH BRYANT . I live at High Street, Bromley, and am a bricklayer—the prisoner is my brother—on the night of 16th August, I was in his company—we went into the Went worth Arms beer-shop at 10.55, and left about 11.55—I took him straight home to my mother's house, with Cleveland—I gave them half a gallon of beer, and bade them "Good night" at my mother's door—I heard her bolt the door—I am sure they went in—I went and fetched him from the beer-shop.
Cross-examined. Q. Who did you fetch from the beer-shop? A. My brother John, the prisoner—about 10.45 we went to have some beer—I left him there, and went for him about 11.55—he was very much intoxicated—I called for half a gallon of beer, and said to him, "Take that in, and drink it"—I know where the Plough is—we passed that way to go home—I saw never been charged with anything, and never was in a Court before in my life—my brother was with me up to 12.55, and I saw him go in-doors.
MARY BRYANT . I live at 17, Wentworth Road, and am the prisoner's mother—I remember the night before he was taken into custody—I let him and another chap in-doors at 12 o'clock—I saw him at 11.30, in the Wentworth Arms, in company with his brother.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you in the Wentworth Arms? A. I was there till 11.45, and then I went home—when my son got in, I bolted the door—he came home about 5.30 and had his dinner then—he paid me his week's wages, and went out within half an hour—we had supper about 7 or 8 o'clock—he was with me then—he went out at 11.30—I went with him—he was at home about two hours before we went to the Wentworth Arms.
COURT. Q. What time did your son Jeremiah come to you that night? A. About 12 o'clock—he had been with me before, between 10 and 11 o'clock—I let my son John in at 12 o'clock—he was drunk, and fell on the stairs three times—they brought in half a gallon of beer, and he spilt every drop—he has never been in trouble—the wages he gave me were 16s.—he is a labourer.
NOT GUILTY .
Cleveland received a good character.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARRIS the Defence.
ROBERT LANGTON . I live at 74, Lincoln Street, Mile End—about 8 o'clock on the evening of 21st March, I was walking in the Mile End Road—I saw the prisoner leaning on a post at the corner of South Grove—when I came up to the post, he advanced and looked me full in the face—he then made a snatch at my watch and chain—I had a small parcel in my right hand, which kept my watch from coming out; but the chain and seals, worth about 6l. 10s., were taken—he ran down the grove—I am positive he is the man—I had seen him about the neighbourhood before—I went down to the Bow Station and identified him—I saw him three times after I was robbed, but I could not see a constable to give him in charge—he had no whiskers when I saw him—he wore a dark coat, like the one he has on now.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you first see him after you were robbed? A. About three weeks—he was leaning on the same post—I did not speak to him—I saw him again about a fortnight or three weeks after that—I saw him three times before he was apprehended—a constable came to me—I should have prosecuted him before if I could have found a constable—it was 8 o'clock, or a quarter before, that he robbed me—I swear that—there was a lamp close to me shining full in his face—I noticed he had a peculiar eye—he had no hair on his face—I might not have prosecuted him if he had not been in custody—I went and gave information at the station directly after—I gave a description of him, and that was all I had to do with it—if there had been a policeman by, I should have given him into custody.
COURT. Q. Where did you sea him in August? A. At the Police-Station—he was alone—I identified him directly I went in—he wore a sort of round hat.
ALFRED LANGLEY . I live at 5, Plough Cottages, Leyonstone—I have known the prisoner eight years—I never knew him to wear whiskers, or, if any at all, they were very slight—if he had them in March, I should have known it—I have not seen him for the last two months.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you say he had no whiskers in March? A. Yes—I saw him three or four times in March—I never knew him to wear any whiskers.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know what a billy goat is? A. Yes—he never wore that—he had a little Imperial, but so slight and fair, that it would not have been perceived by gaslight—I saw him frequently in March.
Witnesses for the Defence.
SABELLA CAMPBELL . I am the wife of William Campbell, of South Grove, Mile End Road—on 21st March, I was waiting for a letter from my husband from about 7.50 till 8.15, when my attention was attracted by a man running down the grove, full speed, and several boys after him, shouting "Stop thief!"—I had seen the prisoner in the grove about an hour before that—I did not see him after—it was not the prisoner who was running—I know the prisoner—he wore hair on his chin for about twelve months—he is a friend of my son; that is how I know him.
Cross-examined. Q. You say he has worn hair on his chin for eighteen months? A. Yes; just a little on the chin.
MARY HATTON . I live at 5, Regent Street, Mile End Road—I have always known the prisoner to have hair on his chin up to the last two months—it was very light, and rather thin—as far as I know, he is a respectable man.
Cross-examined. Q. Does he live with you? A. Yes—I go out nursing—he never wore whiskers—the hair was not very long on his chin—I call it a billy goat—it was very fair—it could not be well seen—he was a toll collector till the gates were moved away.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
NEW COURT.—Monday, September 21st; Tuesday, 22nd; Wednesday, 23rd, Thursday, 24th; and Friday, 25th, 1868.
before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MARY TUCKER BORRADAILE was examined from the Sessions Paper (See p. 334), and repeated the evidence there given; she also gave the following additional evidence on cross-examination: Madame Rachel mentioned 1000 guineas as the price of being made beautiful for ever—that was the charge for enamelling, not that she enamelled me, for she did nothing of the sort, she said that it was necessary I should be made "beautiful for ever" before I was married to the rich and good man, meaning Lord Ranelagh—I took more than a hundred baths by her direction—I swear that I never borrowed any money of her—this letter is in my writing: "4, Francis Street, London Street, Paddington, May, 1866. My dear Rachel. My husband, Colonel Borradaile, died the 17th of May, 1861. Will proved by Mr. Nelson, City solicitor, whose brother lives in Gracechurch Street, to whom I refer you, and he will arrange everything to your satisfaction. I was left sole executrix to all he possessed in the world. He left one will in London with his nephew, Mr. J. C. Borradaile, Blackheath, and the other in India I refer you to my mother, who resides at Sealey, Ham, near Haverfordwest, Pembrokeshire, South Wales. I am related to Lord Kensington, who resides in London; therefore, my dear Rachel, you may feel assured I am mistress of my own actions, and may do what I think proper with my own, and this will at once convince you that I can fulfil my promise, and carry out any arrangement with you that I have entered into."—That letter was written at Rachel's shop, at her request, but she told me to direct it from Francis Street, where I lived for a few days—I do not know whether it is a coffee-house with "Beds 1s. and 1s. 6d." in the fan-light, over the door—you can say nothing against my character—there is "Beds" over the door—a railway porter recommended
me to go there—I never wrote a letter there—I slept at 28, George Street the night I wrote that letter—I came up to the Great Western Hotel, but found it too expensive, and went to the first coffee-house I could find; the join behaved very shabbily to me, and I left, and asked the porter to take me to a respectable house—I had left the coffee-house at the time I wrote that letter—I always directed my letters as Madame Rachel wished me to do, I was so foolish, and she is a wicked woman, a vile woman, and you are as bad too, I think—I wrote all my letters at Madame Rachel's shop, and all were directed from other places—she had an object in my directing from Francis Street, but I cannot tell you what it was—she always told me, when I asked her, that I must trust to her—I was alone with Lord Ranelagh on the second occasion, but I thought it was too soon for him to say anything endearing to me—nothing occurred except some allusion to the events that were going on at Beaufort House—I was told that the man. I was to marry was a rich man, but I ascertained that Lord Ranelagh was a poor man—I found this out in October, 1866, and I knew that Madame Rachel had deceived me—not withstanding the style and the bad writing of the letters, I believed that they were written by Lord Ranelagh, and I believed the statement of Madame Rachel, that he had employed his servant to write some of the letters, because she swore most solemnly that it was the case—I look into the Peerage occasionally, and I perceive that Lord Ranelagh's Christian names are Thomas Heron Jones—Thomas would have done better than William, it is not so vulgar—this letter, addressed "Mr. Edwardes, care of Madame Rachel, 47A, New Bond Street," is, I believe, in my handwriting, but I do not remember ever having addressed a letter to Mr. Edwardes at the prisoner's residence—(Read: "4, Francis Street, London Street, May 26th, (post mark), 1866. My dear love. I am sorry I cannot keep my appointment with you to-morrow, as I do not think of staying in these apartments; but I shall have no objection to meet you any day next week that you may name. I am perfectly satisfied with the articles; they are all very good. I have given Madame Rachel what I promised her, as I like to keep my word; and she has given me a month's grace. She will not trouble me for a month for the second promise. I hope we shall have a quiet day, as it will be more pleasant for me. As before, I do not wish for any intrusion. With my best love, believe me, yours for ever, Mary Borradaile.")—I do not think the envelope is in my writing, it may be, but I never recollect directing the letter—I say there that" I do not think of staying in these apartments; "I cannot swear whether I was living at 4, Francis Street, on 26th May—I wrote this at Madame Rachel's shop—I stayed at Fenn's coffee-house four days, but I never wrote a letter there, I only had one room there—I wrote "I do not wish for any intrusion"—I had not seen William previously when there was any intrusion—I do not know what those words mean; she always said that I 'must trust to her—this letter looks like my writing—I suppose it is mine—(Read: "September 1st, 1866. • 28, George Street, Hanover Square. My dear William. I am surprised and grieved at what you say, that I place more confidence in Mr. Haynes than yourself so far. I have not seen him since Thursday, when I saw him at Mr. Clayton's office, and I do not wish to see him again without I am obliged to do so. I shall write to him to-day, as Rachel and myself have arranged our affairs amicably. I assure you I went, after taking my bath yesterday, to the coffee-house in Davies Street, nearly opposite to the baths. I went twice to see if I could find you, and I left word with the bath attendant,
Mrs. Hicks, and I had to wait for her nearly half an hour that if you called, I had gone to Madame Rachel's, and in lieu of not seeing you, I receive nothing but unkind upbraidings. I tell you again, and again, that it was my intention to go with you to Grindlay's yesterday, to do all that lay in my power for you. You know my feelings towards you; but I cannot do impossibilities. I have heard nothing of Mr. Braham, Mr. Rogers' solicitor. I shall manage to arrange between this and Monday. In hopes that I shall see you shortly, and with fondest love, believe me your affectionate and devoted Mary T. Borradaile.")—I do not know whether I expected to meet Lord Ranelagh at a coffee-house, she told me such a quantity of lies—Grindlays are the agents where my pension is paid—I had not seen anybody the previous day about going to Grindlays' with anyone—I had no paramour—Madame Rachael may have mentioned it to Mr. Haynes; I do not know if she did, she had some object in doing it—she did not say that my family ought to be informed of my extravagance—I will swear she did not censure me for spending money upon my paramour—I said on the last occasion that she may have named it to Mr. Haynes in my presence, but I do not recollect it—I will not swear she did not, but if she did she had some object in view—Mr. Cope came to town in the beginning of September—I do not think Madame Rachel had communicated with him before he came up, she communicated with him afterwards—what I wrote about Lord Ranelagh's nose was not very flattering to my intended husband—I thought he would see that—this letter is also my writing: "36, Davies Street, Berkeley Square. Sept. 5. My dear William. I have been anxiously waiting to hear from you, or to see you. You are very welcome to anything and all that you have of mine. When I asked for to have my letters returned, I did not mean what I said. It was said only when I thought you were cold and unkind to me. I did not deserve it. I have not called upon Mr. Haynes, as my brother-in-law wished me to do. My family have no right or power to control me or my affairs. My husband left me everything he possessed, and the right of doing what I thought proper with it, and I shall write to Mr. Haynes to-day, and tell him so. I will wait here until three o'clock, and if you do not come to me I will leave town without yon. Perhaps if I do it will not break your heart. Do not mention the patience of Job when you think of me. I am afraid to go to Rachel's for fear of Mr. Bayer. She told me yesterday that he had an execution against me. I offered to give him the lace back, but he would not take it. With my fond love, believe me, your affectionate and loving Mary Tucker Borradaile"—I think I was told that there was an execution against me—Madame Rachel dictated that letter—I was not afraid of Bayer—I do not know that I was afraid to go to Madame Rachel's—I only remember writing about the patience of Job.
COURT. Q. You say in that letter that you were afraid to go, had you been told that there was an execution? A. I really forget—I think Madame Rachel told me there was—I think I was served with a writ at the suit of Bayer—I think a man named Abrahams served the writ at 7, George Street—I was four times arrested, and I think I had two papers.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. The next letter is "36, Davies Street, Berkeley Square, September 6th. My dear William. I have just received a letter from my sister, Mrs. Cope, with a postscript from her husband. He says that he will be in town shortly after I receive this. He comes up in consequence of Madame Rachel having sent him the copy of the letter I
wrote you just after they left for North Wales last Monday. She has exposed the whole affair about the lace, the very thing I did not wish him to know. It was most foolish of her exposing my affairs to my family. She said she did it to prevent my being arrested. This affair has nearly broken my heart With fondest love, believe me, your affectionate and loving, Mary T. Borradaile. P.S. I did not know until this minute that you were ill, or I would not have upbraided you for coldness and unkindness, as I thought that you were neglecting me? A. I remember that letter; but I never saw the lace, and know nothing about it—I swear that I never enclosed any letter—Madame Rachel may have done so—my sister, Mrs. Cope, writes to me almost every other day—I did not know she had exposed my a flairs to my family—I dare say Lord Ranelagh requires neck-ties and socks—I am not aware that my brother ever called me an incorrigible person—he has called me very foolish—I stayed at Denver's coffee-house four days—I do not remember meeting Mrs. Hadley there, or anybody—I do not know whether she is the person who waited on me—I do not know that Mrs. Hadley and Mrs. Lilly are the same person—my luggage was detained because I had not money enough to pay my rent, so I pawned some brooches to pay it—I was told at the next place I went to I had not paid the week's rent, so they would not let me rooms there—I then went to 7, George Street.
Q. Attend to this:—"36, Davies Street, September 17. My own dear William. I am happy to state that your kind message has made me much happier than I was yesterday, for I scarcely ever remember spending so wretched a day. Just think, my love, how could it be otherwise, when, instead of our being in Paris, I am in these miserable lodgings, and you, my darling, are ill in bed? The old saying stands good, "True love never runs smoth;" however, as you assure me you will endeavour to leave town in a day or two, I will not, my dear, annoy you by telling you how grieved and disappointed I was at our journey being put off; but, my dear love, when you are convalescent we will make up for lost time. I received a note from my daughter this morning. I enclose it, and the one I have written in reply, which you can peruse before it is posted. Saturday evening that beastly Pike followed me into Madame Rachel's, and tempted me to purchase the diamonds. He wanted me to sign an I 0 U for 1200l., without giving me the jewels, but I was not such a fool to sign without having value in return. My refusing to sign seemed to displease him rather. I trust, my dear love, that you will never put your pen to paper for anyone. Do not forget last Friday. I hope you will always remember that before you ever put your name to a bill. I thank you very much for sending the four letters to Wales as you promised. My dear love, you must not be angry at the little I send you. If yon want any more I will bring it myself. Will that please you, my darling? I have not heard from Mr. Cope or Mr. Moon, and I do not wish to hear from either of them. With my very fondest and dearest love, believe me, your affectionate and loving, Mary Tucker Borradaile." A. That is true, the daughter alluded to is my daughter Florence—I swear that I never enclosed her letter to Lord Ranelagh, but Madame Rachel dictated that; I trusted her—I think I have been a very great fool to write those letters by her dictation—this letter looks like mine—(Read: "7, George Street, Hanover Square, September 19th, 1866. My dear William. I did not get to my lodgings until past twelve o'clock. I took apartments at 43, Davies Street. I had my tea
there, and then went out to take a walk and look for you. The woman at 36 detained my luggage, as you are aware. Madame Rachel sent the money to pay my bill. The woman watched me from her house into the house nearly opposite, where I had taken apartments at the engraver's, and what she said to him goodness knows; but this much I do know, she told him I had a lover, had ordered shirts for him, and had not paid for them; that I wanted to remove my boxes without paying my bill; and, in fact, scandalized me that the engraver refused to admit me into his house at twelve o'clock at night. My luggage was detained in one house and I was left without a lodging, and all on your account. Do I deserve this from you, my love I Had we left town last Thursday this would not have occurred; but as you say you were ill, it would grieve me to doubt you. As you are well there is no cause for any further delay. I went to Madame Rachel's, and Mr. Swisson took for these apartments. I send you a copy of Haynes's bill, and you will compare them with the bills you have, as he has not given me credit for as much as I have paid him; but your solicitor cut see to that. I did intend to call upon him this morning; there will be no necessity for my doing so, as you have all my bills and receipts, and Rachels accounts, which you will see are correct. The one thousand pounds paid from the Funds and one from the Reversion is what I promised Madam Rachel, and you will agree with me that she ought to be paid if anyone is; and, my darling, if you are a good boy, and do as I wish you to do in future, I shall be able to pay every bill without anyone's interference or assistance. I love you still, with all your faults; but remember, my own darling, that you must never sign another bill before you consult me; or, my dear, it shall have no money to go about with, as our kind friends and relatives predicted With fond and dearest love, believe me, your very affectionate and loving, Mary Tucker Borradaile.")—I ordered the shirt fronts, and here is the bill of them—it is very likely Lord Ranelagh may have wanted them—they were sent to 28, George Street, but I would not take them in—the bill is from Regers & Co.—(Dated August 17th)—I think it is in the Hay-market—I never paid it—I think it was in July—this letter looks rather different to my writing—it looks as if it had been written with a steel pen, but I suppose it is mine—(Read: "7, George Street, Hanover Square, September 22nd, 1866. My dear William. I am quite ready, if you will kindly send me word what time you wish me to be at the station, so that we shall not keep each other waiting. I do not wish to leave town on bad terms with Rachel: it would not be policy on our part; but Mr. Haynes sent her a letter, which he had no business to do, and which seems to have made her furious; but, however, we are on very good terms now. I have done all I promised her I would do, and I have just written to her. With my fondest love, believe me, your affectionate and loving, Mary Tucker Borradaile.")—It does not look so much like my writing as some—Madame Rachel told me she was eighty, and I afterwards heard her solicitor, Mr. Roberts, say that she was sixty-eight—she has a child seven or eight years of age, but I always heard them called her grandchildren—this letter looks like my rifting—(Read: "7, George Street, Hanover Square, September 29. My own dear William. I am very much surprised and annoyed at what you say Madame Rachel's impertinence! She had no right to demand of you any explanation, or order you to return me my property, and send them to my lodgings. I never authorized Madame Rachel or Mr. Haynes to take any such liberty with you. When Madame Rachel told me to-day what she had
said to you, in return I told her it was a great liberty of her for to interfere between us; that you were not accountable to anyone but myself for my money or anything else belonging to me. Do not fear, my love, that Mr. Haynes will ask you any questions as regards our private affairs. I am sure, if he did, you would not answer him, as it is not my wish that you should do so. You can come with me to Grindlay's on Monday, between one and two o'clock. Send me word what time will suit you best. And now, my own darling, I hope you will not give me any further cause to fret and grieve; for if you keep your promise with me on Monday night, and tear yourself away from the little lady with the golden hair—which Rachel says any lady can obtain for two guineas—I promise you never to refer to the past. With my fondest love—and, indeed my dear, you do not know what a pain I have in my face all the time I have been writing—believe me, your affectionate and loving, Mary Tucker Borradaile.")—I never used anything that the "little lady" used, I never used anything but the Auricanus, that is merely to make the hair brighter—there is a little lady with golden hair, it is not myself—I do not call myself very little.
COURT. Q. Was that letter written to Lord Ranelagh? A. Yes—it was only from Madame Rachel that I knew there was such a person connected with him, but I have heard her grandchildren talk about it.
MR. DIGBY SEYMOUR . Q. Did you think it would please Lord Ranelagh speaking of the little lady with golden hair? A. As she was in the habit of scratching his face, I thought he would not mind it—I think this letter is my writing: "7, George Street, Hanover-square, October 3rd, 1866. My dear William. Madame Rachel and myself had, as usual, some very high words to-day, indeed it was a serious quarrel, and all concerning you. Mr. Richards came in at the time Rachel was speaking of you not in very respectful terms. She wished Mr. Richards to write to you or to Mr. Haynes to compel you to return me my property and money at once, and I told Madame Rachel and Mr. Richards that they dare not do any such thing. How dare they take such a liberty? Therefore, my darling, whatever you hear from either of them, you will treat it with the greatest indifference. I will comply with your wishes to-morrow, but pray, my dear, do not let it be at that horrid place where the poor man was killed. If you keep me waiting I will scold you well, and you must remember, my love, it will not be the first time you have kept me waiting. With fond and dearest love, believe me, your affectionate and loving, Mary Tucker Borradaile."—I never quarelled with Madame Rachel about William—I never knew a William—the place where the poor man was killed was Richmond—the said that she met Lord Ranelagh at Richmond, it was by the Star and Garter where Mr. Lewis the lawyer was killed. (The following letters were also put in and read:—"7, George Street, Hanover Square. October 6, My dear William. I am sorry you are ill Indeed I am myself very far from being well. One of your kind friends has informed me, and one of your bosom companions, that you have been and are now keeping a woman, and with my money. There is one consolation, what you have you are welcome to, but allow me to assure you that I shall not be duped any longer by you or by anyone belonging to you. Not one member of my family will hold any communication with me for forming, as they say, such a degrading connection with you. When I receive a letter from my daughter it is full of insults, and it is well known in Pembrokeshire that I have been living with you for some mouths. You cannot be and are not surprised at this, considering the life
we have been leading. You have not taken any trouble to connect our affairs, and I have been foolish enough to allow you to be my master and lead me like a child; but am I to believe that the woman you travelled with, and who you introduced to me as your sister, is your mistress? I am not surprised at your forgetting me, as I have forgotten myself; there is one thing you must remember, that I am the widow of a Colonel, and though I have degraded myself and family by having had anything to do with you, I am still more humiliated by being introduced to such people as you associate with. I have not one person in London to speak to, and I dare not return to Wales: but I can live at Paris upon my pension, and I would have shared a crust of bread with you. I ask you again, for the last time, to return me my letters and all my property; and although I am determined to have my letters returned, the longer I stay in town the more I am involved on your account. Allow me to sign myself the last time, M. Tucker Borradaile."—"7, George Street, Hanover Square. November 4, 1866. My own dear William. Your letter pains and shocks me. What has led you to suppose that I should press you so? Far from it. Had you been present at the interview at Haynes' on Friday, you would not have sent me such an unkind letter. It is cruel of you—I who have gone through so much for you. It was Rachel, who did what she had no business to do. She told Mr. Haynes that you had all my money, which was no secret; and, in consequence of my having given her authority to do so, she showed it to him; and what could I say?—what could I do? Mr. Haynes agreed with Rachel that what had been done had been sanctioned by myself. Rachel and myself had a terrible quarrel, but we are now friends. She has promised to place all the accounts before Mr. Haynes, and I will ask him to settle up all accounts between myself and Rachel, and he can arrange much better than we can. Rachel told him that you had the money I had in the Funds. I do not wish you to leave England without me, and I feel assured you could not be so heartless as to do so. I did ask for my letters to be returned; and what then? it is no crime, I did not wish that vile woman to read my letters, and I think you are still corresponding with her; if so, it is cruel, but indeed I trust that you have given her up. I have just come from church. I wish I was with you. With my fondest and dearest love, believe me, your affectionate and devoted, Mary Tucker Borradaile. P.S.—I am glad to hear your sister is better. I will write to her to-morrow."—"Wednesday Evening: My own dear William. I thank you for the pretty little machine; it will pass the time away when we are free from intrusion. Whilst you are smoking or reading, I can be making a pair of slippers, a smoking cap, or pair of braces. You will spoil me, my darling, if you pet and flatter me so much. Granny has told me to-day of all the pretty and naughty little things you have been saying of me. Mr. Haynes has behaved exceedingly well in doing exactly as I desired him to do, and he has not annoyed me in any way. What I wished him most particularly to do was to settle Bayer's bill, pay my eldest brother 110l., pay Cridland his bill, give Rachel the undertaking for 1600l; and should not the reversion realize a sufficient sum to pay my debts, I told Mr. Haynes that my friend would make up the deficiency. My habit, my love, was sent home today. You must excuse all blots, and wishing fondest and dearest love, believe me, your affectionate and loving, Mary Tucker Borradaile."—"Monday, March, 1867. My own dear William. I did as promised. I wrote to Messrs. Lowless, Nelson, & Goodman, and
informed them of the arrangements I have made with Madame Rachel I am quite as anxious to get away, my love, as you are. You say nothing will change your love or unbounded confidence. Your letters are safe, and I have kissed them and read them very often. My darling, we are one. All my thoughts are bound up in you, and I have no one to care for me but you; and I love you all the more for it. I have given you all that woman holds dear; therefore you must not doubt me at the eleventh hour. Show your letters, indeed! What woman could go through such an ordeal? Did I not forsake my only child for you? And with all the threats that my family and the lawyers held out I never compromised you, my own love. Rachel called upon Mr. Haynes to-day. Mr. Robinson, his clerk, told her that he was ill in bed. Rachel assures me she took the mortgage with the intention of giving it to Mr. Haynes. Rachel told Mr. Robinson of the arrangement I had entered into with her. You are aware that I lose my pension if I marry. This, the enclosed, is the arrangement for Grindlay. I leave everything to you, my darling. I have no one else to guide me but you, and, situated as I am, I have done all for the best; therefore, my dear, you must not be angry with me. I thank you for the pretty comb which Rachel says she has, but which, like many other pretty things, I have not seen. She says the veil is a gem. So very kind of you, and thoughtful of you. Forgive my suspicions of you. I want nothing but your love, and for what you have done for me to-day, I feel assured I have it. With my fondest and dearest love, believe me, your affectionate and loving, Mary Tucker Borradaile.")
MR. DIGBY SEYMOUR . Q. Just look at this letter, it has been torn, and I cannot make out how it begins, but there is clearly written "Might take it to bed with met?" A. That is a photograph; I wrote that "I got up, took it off the chimney-piece, and put it under my pillow"—I also wrote "I kissed you and put you to bed with me"—that was the photograph—I never wrote a letter which I did not suppose was for Lord Ranelagh; and I wrote all the letters at Madame Rachel's desire, but not the grammar or English—I brought an action against her through Mr. Cridland—I had no wish to prosecute her criminally, I had rather it had been taken into a Civil Court; that was my wish—the criminal charge was preferred because I could not get my clothes or my money—I think the letter (produced) may be my writing, I only wrote one hand. I will tell you when you read it. (Read: "Thursday Evening. My own dear William. It grieves me very much to hear that you should excite yourself in the way you do, by giving way to such fits of passion. You will break a blood-vessel some day, and there will be an end of my poor dear William; and then what am I to do? Frank told me all If anyone has cause to fret and fume it is myself. Read my sister's letter; I have marked where she says I shall tire out Lewis and Lewis's patience. My darling, do you not think I have tired many other lawyers, but I hope it is all over now; indeed, my love, it is time it should be. Why should you upbraid me for economising? I am trying to save every sixpence, living in a garret, and for you—not for Randall, or any other man that has shared my affections. I wish to say nothing to you but what is kind. You know my great love for you, and why, my darling, do you doubt me? I have written to Rachel to-day, to ask her not to answer my impertinent questions. She growled like a bear. I think she would have much pleasure in seeing you transported. I think Frank tells her everything, and shows her my letters. Rachel is like a witch—there is nothing
she does not know; and I tell you again, take care of Frank, and the sooner we leave London, the better. Never mind the Christmas dinner. it will not be wasted, your sister has a large family. I have been to Mr. Cridland, &c")—I should never have made use of such an expression as "growled like a bear."—it was all her dictation—I think this letter produced is my writing—(Read: "Tuesday. My own dear William. Any sacrifice you have made for me I shall never forget. I am glad, for your sake as well as for my own, that you are economising. I cannot thank you, but I will Kiss you, or you shall Kiss me which I shall like better, my love. I did reply to the last letter but one which I received from you. How can you think after all the proofs that I have given you of my love, that I should shows your letters to Cridland or to Mr. Moon? I love your letters too much to show them to anyone, particularly to lawyers. I should indeed have been sorry if you had gone to Ireland—such a wretched place. I think you were very clever to get out of it so well. Let Stevens fight his own battles. I am sick of the name of Fenians. What good, my darling, can you do by mixing yourself with them, or having anything to do with them? It is a loss of time and of money. I am sorry that Stevens ever had a pound of mine. How could I have been such a fool to have allowed you to squander the money in such a hopeless cause! However, my love, I am very glad that you have given up all thoughts of ever joining them again, and that you will leave everything to me for the future, and, with economy, we shall manage to live independent of the world, as I consider our income a very good one. I will do all I can to save money, and, my own love, you must do the same. My pension is not due to me until the 1st of April. I can get it before we leave. I do not like to rebuke you for spending too much for me, but Mr. Harrison may bring it. Your affectionate and loving Mary Tucker Borradaile.")—I don't know that Lord Ranelagh was a Fenian—You must ask Madame Rachel for an explanation of that letter—the writing is like mine, but I don't recollect ever writing it—I met a man named O'Keefe, at Paris, last March, by Mr. Cridland's wish he called upon me—O'Keefe is now in Paris—he went there just before the first trial—I don't know that Madame Rachel's solicitor has been doing all in his power to subpoena him here—O'Keefe was at the police-station at Marlborough Street with Mr. Cridland's clerk—I saw you at Marlborough Street—O'Keefe I think, took a considerable part and interest in what was going on—I know very little about him, or whether he has a nephew or son—he left after the proceedings about five weeks ago, and has been in Paris about five weeks—I have had no communication with him since he has been there—it was Miss Sutton, I think, who told me he was there—she will be called as a witness—she told me that not more than a week ago—I cannot tell you the precise day he went to Paris; I know very little about Mr. O'Keefe—the letter which refers to Fenians does not recall to me any relation of Mr. O'Keefe, a dark, tall, good looking Irishman, with the Christian name of William—nothing of the kind—know no person of that name; the reference in that letter is not to any such person—I do not remember anything about it—I know nothing about it, or about a Fenian or Fenians—except seeing O'Keefe in Court there has been no transaction of business between us—I know nothing more that that he wished for the prosecution; he thought it the wisest plan to get my money back, and I thought Madame Rachel would not have the audacity to keep my money and clothes after the prosecution commenced—
she has the whole of my wardrobe—there was a hearing at Marlborough Street, and a postponement—I did not employ O'Keefe to go to Madame Rachel to try to settle it, nor did I know that he was going, or that he went—neither he or anyone else told me—now you mention it, I know that he did go; but I do not believe he offered her for a sum to settle this indictment—this letter looks like my writing; I cannot swear to it—(Read: "My own dear William. If you look at the enclosed bills, you will see that I am not the extravagant person that your sister says I am. I bought Florence a pair of boots and three pairs of stockings, not before she wanted them. Your sister ought to see that your stockings are mended. I cannot see why she cannot mend them herself, and put some buttons upon your shirt; it would be better than gossipping with the woman in the room next to her. Send all your clothes that want mending to me, and I will mend them. Florence's boots I bought at Marsh's, in Oxford Street As you want boots, we will go to Battersby and get them, which is a shop lower down the same side Oxford Street. I am surprised that your flannels should be worn out—you have not had them six weeks—it is bad washing. There is a man in a court in Regent Street who mends gentlemen's coats and trousers. My darling, we must economise. They have deducted, I think, 4d. in the pound out of my pension for the Abyssinian Expedition, which I think very unjust. I send you my sister, Mrs. Cope's note; she is attacking Lord Ranelagh again, and Madame Rachel. Have you seen to-day's "Telegraph?" What a shame to make poor Tommy pay 20s., and for only smoking a cigar. I wish poor Tommy would do nothing worse. Mr. Cridland intends coming down upon him if I leave town. With fond and dearest love, ever your affectionate and loving, Mary.")—Lord Ranelagh's clothes would be looked over before they were washed, and after, too—I believed I was writing that letter to Lord Ranelagh, to the man who was going to marry me; telling him that Mr. Cridland, my attorney, was coming down upon him—(The following letters were then put in and read:—"Friday Evening, December 5, 1867. My own dear William. I received the paper, and it has amused me very much. I asked Madame Rachel for my letters yesterday that you gave to her when I was in Whitecross Street Prison, and the letters I have written to you since I have left the prison, and she refused to give them to me. I called upon her to-day, and asked her to return them to me. She told me she would do nothing of the sort, that she would send them to Mr. Cridland. I must have the letters; it is of great consequence for both of us. When I returned home I found Cridland's clerk, with the enclosed letter. I send you my love in the envelope. I wonder what the lawyer would say to this. I do not want to vex you. Mr. Cridland's clerk asked me for ten guineas for counsel's opinion. I had not the money. I told him to take it from the Reversion. By this you will see they are determined to make me go into Court on Monday, where I hope, my love, I shall never see you. If it had not been for that, I should not have been subjected to all the troubles I have had. Why should I tell you so many times that, come what may I never will compromise you? It would have been well for us both if you had gone to Boulogne a month since. Stephenson said to-day it was your wish I should go to the Hotel Chrystol. Mary T. Borradaile.")—(Torn Letter: "... ear William. I have written to the whore who has caused me all the trouble that I have gone through for the last two years. The box you sent me cost me 8S. 6d. It is very kind of you, my love. I shall... Charing Cross,... to be left there till called for. My own
darling, granny told me that you took some of her clothes up with the end of your stick, that you would not soil your hands—comparisons are odious I asked Madame Rachel for the box of letters this evening that you left for me. I am tired of asking for them. Whilst I was there Mr. Cridlands clerk served Madame Rachel with a writ for four thousand pounds, I think... to... with the... Madame Rachel... her so. My dear, I am very sorry for you, as Rachel is sure to expose the whole affair. Think of my feelings, my love, when they told me it was a case of transportation and I am quite sure that Madame Rachel will assist to transport you.. the... of this affair, it makes me quite ill to think of it; but I, and no one but myself, can stop the proceedings. Mr. Cridland called upon me this morning. I was too ill to see him. He left his card, and requested... as soon... and I did... had received a letter from Mr. Lewis of Marlborough Street, requesting payment of the first instalment Mr. Cridland told me he did not consider it lawful, and would not allow me to pay it. To save your name I would have...")—To my knowledge I know no one who has been convicted here, on a charge that he had obtained money of a lady under the false pretence that he could marry her, he being a married man; not one who has been convicted—I was in Rachel's shop when Cridland's clerk served the writ, but I don't recollect writing that letter—the first instalment referred to there is on my pension, because I was going to be married, and should lose my pension—she got it in the way I have said—she got me to sign I do not know what—I never received as application from Mr. Lewis, of Marlborough Street, for the first instalment, or from Mr. Sayer; or from Mr. Haynes—Mr. Cridland said that it was a fraud altogether—I never wrote a letter from the Great Western Hotel—I was not there on 28th May, 1866; I was at 28, George Street, I think—my sister-in-law goes there often, but she was not there then—I think this is my writing; it is dated from the hotel, which I never was at—(Read: "Monday Evening, Great Western Hotel, May 28, 1866. My dear Madame Rachel. I enclose the receipts and the little items that I bought last Tuesday from Bonnets, Gardener, and Pearce. I have not received the mantle from Hitchcock and Rogers. The receipts also I send. Mr. Lovejoy has the mantle, and you cannot be surprised at his detaining all my valuable property: and he has summoned me this morning. Therefore you will confer a great favour on me if you will call upon him or instruct your man of business to demand my property, which he has detained without any right to do so. He has behaved in a very dishonest way, and I hope that you will endeavour, as I am making all necessary arrangements for going to Paris with my daughter, as it is her last quarter, and I may not be in England for some time, as I intend finishing her education in Paris. But I will keep my promise with you before I leave. Will you kindly show Mr. Love joy my bills and receipts, and my arrangements with you, and ask him to give me a written apology; and tell him if he do not deliver up my property, for you to forward to me on the Continent, that you have my authority to take legal proceedings against him without further notice, as I have been to a solicitor this morning, in the Edgware Road. But you, my dear Rachel, will arrange this with as little expense as possible. With kind regards, believe me, yours truly, Mary Borradaile. P.S.—Do not mention to any one my last address, as I should regret much their knowing my having been in such a horrid place, and I am sure, after the explanation I have given you, that you will never reveal it: but it is
all for the best, as I did not like any of my family to know my whereabouts. My sister-in-law, Mrs. Edwardes, is staying at the Great Western, and has been there for two weeks.")—When I could not get rooms at the Great Western Hotel, one house I went to was a lodging-house and one a coffee-house—Love joy's is in London Street, and Dennis's is in Francis Street—Mr. Lovejoy did summon me that morning—I was told that the lodging-house in Francis Street was not the place for a lady—I brought this blotting case from Rhyl—I have written in it, "Elsie, with Mr. Borradaile's kind love"—I presented it, with these two books (produced) to Madame Rachel's children—I think I wrote my own name in it to enhance the gift, one book I recollect writing in, and I may have written in both—(The following letters were also put in: "2, George Street, Hanover Square, November 24, 1866. Dear Madame Rachel As you are so well acquainted with my private affairs, and, like many others of your ladies who depend upon your honour, I think it would be unwise of you, to say the least of it, to speak of what no one has a right to interfere with but myself. I have said so repeatedly to my own child and my relatives, I should not have been subjected to all the troubles and annoyances that I have endured, if Mr. Cope had not taken the liberty of exposing my affairs to Mr. Moon, and in a letter which I wrote to that gentleman I told him so. That I am mistress of my own actions, and if I thought proper to place my affections on a man who has not a shilling in the world, and if he wanted the hair of my head he should have it, I am at liberty to do so. My family are annoyed with me for my giving him money. Do you suppose that man, if he has one spark of honour, would keep my money or property. Dear Rachel, you are mistaken in thinking so, and so are my family. Be assured, Rachel, if you will be quiet for a day "or two, I shall have more money than I want, and it will be your own interest to say as little about it as possible, and I will see you are righted. I will keep my promise with you, for I never break my word. Dear Rachel, will you kindly give me the letters that my friend left at your house for me when I was in Whitecross Street, as I want them; and if I have said anything to offend you I am very sorry for it I will not compromise my friend, whatever may be the result It would be dangerous to tell you that I am going to Paris, but you have children of your own, and you have not the heart to injure me that people say you would do. You have been very unkind. If any one suffers by this affair it will be myself. I am glad to hear the bills are not in the market that I gave you. No doubt you will be glad to hear that the 1600l. that my friend has will be returned to you on Tuesday. You say you have no money of mine. You must not be hard with me. I will pay you by instalments. Thank goodness, my affairs are in a little better state than I thought they were. Please send me my letters. Believe me, yours sincerely, Mary Tucker Borradaile."—"7, George Street, Hanover Square, September 26. Dear Rachel. I arrived here between six and seven o'clock yesterday evening. I called upon you to-day, but you were engaged. I left a pretty little album, with some photographs, for your dear little Elsie, and a nice little cross for Leontie. I cannot tell you how grieved I was to hear of your sad accident, and so was my friend William. He will call upon you to-morrow; pray be kind to him for my sake; you know how much I love him, dear Rachel, and I never thanked anyone who would wish to separate me from the only man I love. With kind regards, your sincere friend, Mary T. Borradaile."—"December 20, 1867. Dear Madame
Rachel. I am sorry that when your grand children called upon me to-day that Mrs. Smith should say I was not at home, for it was untrue. I had not left the house. Will you, dear Madame Rachel, kindly give me the box of letter which was sent to your house and entrusted to your care for me, or will you tell me when I can call for them. If you are asked any questions about my affaire please say you know nothing about them. I send you a pretty little book for Harry, as he was disappointed of the cake I promised him. With kind regards, believe me, yours very truly, Mary T. Borradaile. P.S. If you will send the box with your own man, Harry, I will give him something for bringing it."—"February 8th, 1868. Dear Madame Rachel Let me implore of you to give me my letters. All that is in my power I will do for you in return. I would give you 2000l., and indeed 10,000l., if I had it. Indeed, I scarcely know what to do. I received such letter this morning from Wales, I am nearly distracted. I have written to-day to Mr. Cridland and to Mr. Haynes. I have enclosed you the copies. It is to satisfy Mr. Cridland, who writes every day to my brother by the morning post. Mr. Cridland and Mr. Haynes are become very great friends. I thought it advisable to write to both. You understand the motive. You have children of your own. It is to save my daughter's name, that her mother may not be disgraced in the opinion of the world. You know it will not do to have my name mentioned with Capt. W. Edwardes. It would be ruin to myself and my daughter. I still feel assured you will not refuse giving me my letters. I will never give you cause to regret having done so. With kind regards, I am, very sincerely yours, M. Borradaile."—"7, George Street, Hanover Square, February 20, 1868. Dear Madame Rachel. I enclose you Mr. Cridland's letter, which I received this morning. You know the meaning of it. Give me the box of letters, and put an end to all my misery, which has been killing me. You shall not be made the victim to serve other people, as you have kept my confidence. I shall re-pay you as a lady ought to do, in consequence of the annoyances you have been subjected to through my unfortunate affair. I have written to Mr. Cridland, and told him about the cruel affair that took place between Lord Ranelagh and my dear husband, and you will see Mr. Cridland will keep it secret. I wrote it in haste. I only told him a part. You may remember that I told you some years past, when I returned from India, the unfortunate affair. If Lord Ranelagh had not mentioned William's name in the presence of Mr. Cridland, I should not have mentioned the sad affair. By referring to the card enclosed you will see that the dates are correct. With kind regards, yours very truly, Mary Tucker Borradaile. The brewer's daughter has sent to tell me that Lord Ranelagh is to give her away to-morrow."—"7, George Street, Hanover Square, February 21, 1868. Dear Madame Rachel. I sent you two letters yesterday, one in the morning and one in the evening, the latter containing a letter from Mr. Cridland. I now enclose you one which I received last night, and you will see the great importance of my receiving my letters. I would prefer that you would give them to me instead of Mr. Cridland. Yours, very truly, Mary Tucker Borradaile.') Madame Rachel had proposed giving the letters either to Mr. Cridland or me—I think Mr. Cridland asked her for them, but she never gave them—I did not know that they were my letters—she had my authority, and I wished her to give them up very much—that was two or three months before the criminal charge was made—(Upon MR. D. SEYMOUR proposing to put in some letters from the witness to Mr. Haynes, which he had been subpoened to produce,
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE objected, it having been ruled by the RECORDER, on the last trial, that Mr. Haynes had no power to waive his client's privilege. MR. SERJEANT PARRY urged, that although Mr. Haynes might object to produce his client's letters without her permission, yet, when she was in the witness box, no such privilege attached to her. THE COURT declined to admit the letters).
MR. DIGBY SEYMOUR . Q. How often did you go to Mr. Haynes with Madame Rachel? A. Four or five times—we never went into matters of account in his presence, we went to get him to arrange the thing amicably—I went two or three times to Mr. Haynes to try and get my clothes and money, and Madame Rachel went with me, but the accounts between us were not referred to; I was kept quite in the dark—I wrote this letter to Messrs. Grindlay dated, March 26, 1867, but I do not think this enclosure in it is my writing—it is not like my writing—I did give a charge on my pension, and Madame Rachel got it in the way I told you—(This letter informed Messrs. Grindlay that the writer had engaged to pay Madame Rachel 150l. a year out of her pension, and was signed Mary T. Borradailc.)—I mean to swear the enclosed document is not my writing—I think Madame Rachel's grand-daughter, Miss Leontie, writes like me—my pension is 350l. a year—I enclosed a card to Mr. Cridland, but not a letter—(The letters of December 3rd, and December 13th, to Lord Ranelagh, were here read (See p. 358,) also a letter, dated Saturday, to Dear Tom, which stated: "I shall go the Argyle Baths. I shall wait for you at the public-house at the back, I do not mean the coffee-house; I will ask them to let us have a private room.")
THE WITNESS. That was written to Lord Ranelagh, but not a word without Madame Rachel's dictation.
Re-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. When you arrived in London on the occasion you have referred to in your examination, did you come to the Great Western terminus? A. Yes, from Cheltenham; I arrived in the evening, and intended to go to the Great Western Hotel—I could only get a room on the first-floor, which was too expensive—I inquired of some one about, and was recommended to Lovejoy's—I stayed six days there—I think it is a perfectly respectable place, and certainly I did not use it for any but respectable purposes—from Lovejoy's I went to a coffee-house on account of a dispute with Lovejoy, who, having changed me a 10l. note, two days after said he had given me 2
l. too much—he had not done so, and I told him so, and had a dispute, so that I left at 10 o'clock at night—I inquired of a druggist next door, for a fresh lodging, and a railway porter took me to Francis Street, where I had a room, for which I paid 2s. a day, I think—no one visited me there, and there is no justification for the imputation of my living in an improper manner at either of those houses—if there was anything wrong, I do not know—I went to Madame Rachel—I don't recollect writing the letter giving an Account of my financial position.; there was no necessity to write to Captain Edwardes on that subject—I never wrote a letter from Francis Street—I can only account for Madame Rachel producing all the letters which I supposed delivered to Lord Ranelagh, by supposing that she kept them—I had not the least idea they were in her possession until the last trial—she told me about letters being in her possession, but I did not think she meant mine—I only knew of two being in her possession, except two which I re-copied—Madame Rachel's establishment consisted of herself and her daughter,
who she told me was past 50—Madame Rachel told me she was over 80—they were made up, I suppose—Miss Leontie, her granddaughter, was always there—I have seen her write, and I should know her writing—this letter signed "William," I do not think is her writing—Madame Rachel dictated to me of an evening, after the shop was shut up—a servant named Henry, and her granddaughter have seen me writing letters there, never staying in the room, but going in and out—Leontie has seen me writing in the room, I have also written at 50, Maddox Street, which Rachel told me was her daughter's house—during most of the time I was living at 28, George Street—I never saw any gentlemen there, except Mr. Cope and one or two solicitors—Leontie was generally at Rachel's, and always when her grandmother was out of town—Henry took one of the letters I re-copied, which was addressed to Captain William Edwardes, from me to Madame Rachel—on my solemn oath, I never had an interview with any man but Lord Ranelagh at Madame Rachel's, and I never walked about the streets or went to coffee-houses with any man—I had a fever in India—before she dictated the letters she used generally to give me whisky, which I have never drunk before or since—I do not think there was anything in the whisky, because she used to drink it herself—I never took spirits before, except brandy and soda-water, by the doctor's advice.
COURT. Q. In point of fact, you do not know whether it was whisky or not? A. No—I was told it was whisky, and I heard her send for whisky—sometimes she has been without, and I do not know where she got it from.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. I do not know whether you know the expression "neat," did you mix it? A. I took it in liqueur glasses—I do not know whether there was any water in it—Madame Rachel said it had done her a great deal of good, and would be good for me—I have seen a young man named Horace writing there, and I saw a lad in 1866, called William, who used to copy letters—he copied the letter sent to Mr. Cope—I went from Francis Street then, for three months, to 28, George Street, then for a fortnight to 36, Davies Street, and then to 7, George Street—at all these places I was living very economically, not more than a guinea a week, and I am sure my clothes during the whole time did not cost 20l.—I used to dine at the Scotch Stores, until my landlord thought it was not quite respectable for a lady.; then I dined at his house, and paid him 10l. 6d. a week for it—I never had any companion at the Scotch Stores—the 800l. was a part of the 1000l. which I agreed to pay for being made beautiful for ever—all that I had for the money was some soap and powder, and some small bottles of magnetic water to put in my baths, which I paid for myself—I don't know whether it did me much good—I think Madame Rachel may be clever about the skin, but she never did much for me—one of the letters alludes to a photograph of Lord Ranelagh, which was on my mantelpiece in the bedroom at George Street—I got it in Regent Street, and Madame Rachel knew of it—I cannot tell you, I am sure, why I took the photograph to bed with me—no one suggested it—I mentioned it to Madame Rachel, and she said, "When you are writing, say that you took him to bed with you"—that was why the matter came to be mentioned in the letter—the first letters I received. as coming from Lord Ranelagh, were badly spelt, and I refused to take any more of that sort—Madame Rachel then told me he had hurt his arm, and after that the spelling improved—I signed my full name to my love-letters because I was so foolish—I went at Madame Rachel's direction to a coffee-house to inquire whether a gentleman had been inquiring for me—I merely went
to the door—I do not think I described him, there were several men there, and I did not go in—Madame Rachel never blamed me for spending money on a paramour—when I mentioned not seeing more of Lord Ranelagh, she said the marriage was to be by proxy, and the proper mode of doing it was by letter, as she had married two parties in the same way—there is not the shadow of foundation for the statement that I have been living with any man, the letters are those of a self-confessed idiot—I never should have written them, except for Madame Rachel—I have been a prudent, virtuous woman all my life, and I cannot account for these letters at all—I never lived with O'Keefe—I know no half-military, half-sporting man, with a moustache—I do not recollect the letter in which that reference is made—I know no such person at all—O'Keefe called on me in Paris to know where I was living—I don't know Stephens, I have seen an elderly man come into the shop, who Madame Rachel told me was Lord Ranelagh's servant—I took no interest in the Fenians—I know no one in Ireland—I don't remember writing, "I am sick of the name of Fenians"—I can't explain it, for I know nothing about it—I recollect this about leaving Charing Cross early to-morrow; it was Rachel's dictation; I asked her the meaning of it—I can't swear this letter is in my handwriting—I have no idea who wrote this letter with a monogram, as it was not Lord Ranelagh—the letter from Lord Ranelagh, as I thought, which urged me to sign the paper, referred to the 1600l. bond—I wrote ten or twelve letters addressed to "Tom"—there are others than those produced, some Mr. Cridland would not give up, because they only related to my late husband—Rachel got the last letters of my late husband; she asked me to read them to her; she got hold of about four—I wrote to "Tom," because Rachel said, "We have had enough of 'Dear William;' we will write to 'Dear Tom' now"—I can anly account for the allusions to "William," in the letters to "Dear Tom," by Rachel telling me it was either to create jealousy, or to screen Lord Ranelagh—Miss Leontie saw me writing some of those letters—I have seen her about the Court in some of the passages during this trial—I know no William, and can convey to the Jury no meaning in the allusion to "Dear William" losing money at horse-racing—I know nothing of the cough mixture in connection with Lord Ranelagh, except that he came to the shop one day, looking very ill, and Rachel said he had a cold—there were no accounts between me and the prisoner—I never owed her a penny—she once gave me 2l. to pay for my lodgings in Davies Street for a short time; beyond that I never had a farthing from her—the account produced at the last trial, which appeared to be in my handwriting, I don't remember at all (produced)—I can't swear to this being my writing; part of it is not like mine—I have no recollection of writing any of it—it says, "Received, 13th June, 500l."—that is an absolute falsehood: also the entry, "Received 700l., Sept. 1"—all the entries of my receiving 200l., 50l., 10l., 18l., 85l., 80l., 70l., altogether amounting to 1600l., are false—if it is in my hand-writing, I can't account for it—Rachel said there was an account, but I never knew what it was until it was produced at the last trial—the figures in this account I can swear are not in my handwriting—not a sixpence have I received in any way, except the 2l., she lent me—Madame Rachel is not a person to give money—I solemnly swear I have not received a farthing of that money—it was produced by your friend on the other side, on the last occasion, to vouch that I owed the amount.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Take this up in your hand, and look at it again? A. I have never had a sixpence, and she has had all my money—some parts
are like mine, and some are not—some of the figures certainly do not look like mine—this 700l. is very unlike mine—on the last occasion I said, "I think this long account is also in my writing"—I say now, as I said then, some looks like my writing, and some does not—I do not think I said "I never tell lies," because "lies" is such a vulgar word that I do not use it—the 700l. and the 1600l. do not look like my figures, nor the 70l.—the "5" of the 500l. at the top looks like mine—the 85l. looks something like mine; but it is impossible for me to know what I wrote at Madame Rachel's—I often asked her what she had done with my money and clothes, but got no answer—she said she had an account, and I asked her what she meant by accounts—there is an entry for under clothing—I do not remember any being got from a person named Hymus to the extent of 50l.—I do not know the name—Madame Rachel told me so, and also of a further account of 30l.; but I never saw them—she told me she would get the things necessary for my wedding, but I don't know whether she got any from Hymus—I paid 18l. out of my own pocket to Madame Rachel for bridal chemises—I did not pause for a moment and appear to shed tears when the letter of the 12th of December was put into my hands in the Police Court—I have never shed tears in any Court—I think I recollect saying, "I wrote that letter more from want of something to do than anything else," but I was not thinking of what I was saying; it was a foolish answer.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. You say that you never heard the name of Hymus before to-day? A. No—I do not recollect ordering any underclothing that I did not pay for—I never received any from Madame Rachel, and I have a very small quantity now—I have never received the tenth part of a shift from her.
COURT. Q. Have you seen Miss Leontie write often? A. I have seen her write in the sitting-room—I think this is something like her writing.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Will you have the kindness to look at this receipt? A. I say the same as I said at the Police Court, that it looks like my writing, but I have never received a penny—I may have said, "This receipt is also in my writing"—I said, "I think the writing is like mine"—if I said so, I say so now—(Read: "Wednesday, June 13, 1866. Received of Madame Rachel, the sum of 500l. for which I have given her a bill for the amount, payable on demand, at Messrs. Grindlay & Co.'s. Mary Tucker Borradaile")—I think this document is in my writing—(This was dated london, September 21, 1866, signed by the witness, and authorizing Madame Rachel to dispose of all the property she held of hers).
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. What were the articles referred to? A. Articles which Madame Rachel had of mine, and which have never been restored to me—I have got nothing for them—she said that dear William had them—there is not a word of truth in this receipt, in which I acknowledge the receipt of 500l.—how did I have it; in notes, or gold, or how?—I do not know the handwriting of the remainder of the receipt.
JURY. Q. Do the letters purport to come by post, or by hand? A. By hand—not one letter came through the post—they were all given me by Madame Rachel.
JOSEPH HAYNES repeated his evidence in chief, as given at page 353, and added: I paid myself 180l. odd before the last quarter was actually due—Madame Rachel asked me to do so a few days before—the other 70l. went into the account between myself and Madame Rachel—I was to retain that on account of future rent—I had given her considerable time in paying the
past rent—Madame Rachel, out of the 800l., was to give me another 250l., which was a year's rent, there being a half year's rent due, and a quarter nearly due.
COURT. Q. Do you mean to say that Mrs. Borradaile did not get one farthing of this money? A. Yes—there is 185l. 12s. 11d. to account for—I gave Mrs. Borradaile an acknowledgement for 163l. 2s. 11d., being the difference between the amount I paid, and the amount I received from the stockbroker.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Then I may take it, as far as you are concerned, not a halfpenny went into Mrs. Borradaile's pocket? A. Nothing except the 163l. 2s. 11d., which was afterwards accounted for—that was part of the beautifying process, but I was no party to that—she afterwards explained to me that she had settled accounts with Madame Rachel—that was the first transaction—on 13th and 14th of June, I find by my call book Mrs. Borradaile called on me because she was being sued for debts—I sold reversion for her in August, 1866, through the Reversionary Interest Society, and raised 1340l.—my cash account will show the precise sum—I received it on 13th August, and rendered an account a day or two afterwards—on September 15, I send in Mrs. Borradaile debtor to me 544l., on a balance which includes a sum of 1400l. alleged to have been paid to Madame Rachel, on 30th August, 1866—in the 1400l. to Madame Rachel is comprised the 1340l.; and 60l. Mrs. Borradaile handed to my clerk for a debt which she was being sued on—I say I paid Madame Rachel the 1400l. on 30th August—it was not paid on the 30th, but I got the account in anticipation of receiving the amount in a few days—on 24th August, six days before I received the money, I advanced her 40l. by cheque—she said that Mrs. Borradaile owed her money, and as I was raising it, she wanted 40l. for a particular purpose, would I give a cheque for that amount?—the date is 25th August—on the evening of the day I received the 1340l., Madame Rachel wanted 20l., for which I gave her a cheque—that was before I cleared the money—on 31st August, I gave her 200l.—the cheque is endorsed by her—meanwhile the 1340l. was received from my stockbroker, and paid in to my account—on September 1st, I gave her 220l.—I gave her these cheques as she asked for them—I had an order to pay her 1400l.—on 15th September, I paid her 150l., and on the same day, another cheque for 120l.—at the time I state my balance against Mrs. Borradaile at 544l., I had about 1400l. in my possession, but I had transferred one sum to the other—she was actually to my knowledge arrested at this time for the sum of 50l.—I do not know the date—on 27th September, I paid another cheque to Madame Rachel of 200l.—on 29th September, 1866, by arrangement, I deducted 62l. 10s., the amount of rent then due—I had taken a whole year's rent out of the first sum, but subsequently Madame Rachel wanted money, and I gave her the difference—I have no receipt for it; I have the book—I recollect there was a 20l.-note, and some fives, or tens, or gold.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. You have had notice to produce your books, are they here? A. No; but I have an account of all sums of money I have paid to Madame Rachel; she, not being able to write, took it away to get it signed, and I have never had it back—I have no account except that of the sums I have paid in cash to her—I deducted the Michaelmas rent out of the 1400l.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Go on? A. On December 8th she sent down to me to let her have 5l. which I gave her a cheque for—she sent one
of her daughters—in January I gave her a cheque for 272l. 14s. 5l.—that leaves a balance of 147l. in my hands, that has been subsequently arranged by Madame Rachel and myself—Mr. Froggart has the account—Madame Rachel used to come down to the office, and I put it down on a sheet of paper—I want to know where that sheet of paper is—Mrs. Borradaile did not get a farthing from me, but I understood from Madame Rachel that she had been lending and paying money for her—having just paid her 800l. I naturally asked her what the 1400l. was for—I do not know of Madame Rachel ever having advanced a single farthing to Mrs. Borradaile, but Mrs. Borradaile admitted it, she told me that Madame Rachel had paid money for her to her cousin Captain William Edwardes, and Madame Rachel told me that she had paid money to Mrs. Borradaile's cousin—she did not say how much, and I did not ask her—I told her she would be called on to account for the sums she had received, and she said that she had receipts for all sums she had paid to Captain William Edwardes and the others, and on her account—she acted, as I understood, as a sort of banker to Mrs. Borradaile, who when she wanted money went to Madame Rachel and got it—I knew what Madame Rachel's business was; I did not think she combined banking with perfumery—she received a large sum from me, and she appropriated it in various ways—all the cheques payable to Rachel are to order, except the last—the 1340l. was proceeds of part of the Streatham property, which was sold to a railway company—that was in cash—it was paid into Court, and sold out; the other part of the Streatham property was sold out by Messrs. Lowless & Nelson, out of which they paid me a mortgage—I received from them, I think, 1380l., by two cheques, which were paid into my banker's; Mrs. Borradaile gave them an order to pay me over the proceeds of the sale, the balance, and they did so on 1st April, 1867—I had sent in a cash account, bringing myself in a creditor to the amount of 544l. 3s. 4d.—on 20th June I had paid for Mrs. Borradaile the debt and costs in an action brought by Mr. Proctor, 153l. 11s. 2d.—that sum had been advanced, she was being sued on an acceptance, and I paid the money, knowing I should get it back, to prevent her going to prison—the next sum is 11l. 6s. 4d., I paid that for costs in an action for 164l. 19s. 6d., brought by Messrs. Hamilton, not my costs, but money paid—it was for mantles, dresses, &c., supplied in May, 1866—the next is Mr. Pike 100l.—that was the forfeit on a deposit for some diamonds—Mrs. Borradaile had given Mr. Pike an acceptance for 1260l. for some diamonds, and I induced him to take them back, and receive 100l., and I remonstrated with her for buying them—they had not been delivered, but he held her promissory note—the next sum is 10th September, 1866, 100l. to Mr. Bayer, she owed him that for lace—on the same day here is 5l. to an attorney for the costs of action for the balance of an account for lace; I have the invoice here, it was originally 384l.—that accounts for 544l. 3s. 4d.—then 700l. was paid by Mrs. Borradaile's request to Madame Rachel; the order is here, I would not have paid it without—of this 700l. I paid for a cheque for 550l. on 24th April, and one for 60l. on 24th March, and had debited her with a quarter's rent, and there was a balance of 27l., out of which I have paid other things for her since—I had received the 1300l. in March, and the conveyance is dated 15th April, 1807—these cheques are payable to order, except one for 5l., which is payable to self, the largest one, which is for 272l. 14s. 5d., is on a slip of paper, payable to bearer, and is not endorsed; Madame Rachel wanted to send some money to Paris that day—she could not write, and she
asked me to give her an open cheque, which I did, and I have no doubt the notes can be traced.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. I think I understood you to say in the course of your evidence, that you had made certain payments and disbursements by the request of Mrs. Borradaile? A. By her written orders and request—I left the written order with Mr. Avery, at the last trial, at the request of both parties—I first saw Mrs. Borradaile on 5th June, 1866; she then said that she owed Madame Rachel some money, and had made an arrangement to pay her, if I would go into the City and sell out some stock—I think 800l. was mentioned—she said that there was a 1000l. bill which she required to be given up, when the 800l. was paid—I had paid Hamilton previously, but Rachel's interest in the 1000l. was 800l.—I had no particulars as to when the 800l. debt was contracted, or what it was for—Mrs. Borradaile frequently asked Madame Rachel for the delivery of some I 0 U's, and I wrote several letters to the prisoner for them—she used the words, "I O U's and bills," and gave me information respecting them.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. I suppose that was to you as an attorney? A. Yes.—(MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. objected to the admission of this evidence as a breach of the client's confidence; and further that Mrs. Borradaile had interpolated evidence which she was not asked about. MR. SERJEANT PARRY submitted that where the interview was in the prisoner's presence as a third party the attorney's privilege did not exist; and that when it did exist, it was waived by the prosecution calling the attorney as a witness. THE COMMISSINER, having consulted MR. JUSTICE KEATING, considered that the client's privilege was not gone merely through her attorney being produced as a witness; the Queen being the real prosecutor, and not Mrs. Borradaile, who was compelled to give evidence, and she might be cross-examined upon any point upon which the Counsel for the prosecution had obtained an answer from her, but not upon anything which she had voluntarily added, as that might entirely destroy the clients privilege. Lastly, as to what took place in Madame Rachel's presence, the privilege was gone.)
Q. Did Mrs. Borradaile say anything to you with reference to these I 0 U's and bills? A. Yes, she did, both orally and in writing—I have given copies of her letters to both sides, at her request—the correspondence is very voluminous—I gave copies of a portion of it to both parties, not this letter, but certain letters having reference to money payments—(This letter was dated September 26, 1866, from Mrs. Borradaile to the witness, requesting him to pay Madame Rachel 1400l. on her account, for which bills and receipts had been given.)—I have a copy of another letter which was taken possession of at the Police Court, against my desire—I handed it to you (Mr. Seymour), and it was handed up to the Magistrate; I believe the then solicitor, Mr. Froggart, has it now: I saw him in Court this morning—I do not think I have any other letters bearing upon this matter—there are thirty or forty other letters; I will with pleasure hand them all in—they are not all upon this particular matter—I do not think there are any more, except the one which is a copy, and not an original.
COURT. Q. How did you happen to have that copy, was it made before you went to the Police Court? A. Yes, I was requested by Mr. Cridland to attend there—a bundle of papers was handed up to Mr. Seymour, and I have tried every means in my power to get them since—Mr. Cridland's letter is here, requesting my attendance—(It was here found that the original letter was already in evidence; it was dated February 7, 1867, commencing, "Dear Sir, when I called on you yesterday"—See p. 341.)
MR D. SEYMOUR. Q. Will you tell me if that is your writing? (Anotherletter.) A. That is my signature; it is my clerk's writing—(Read: "30th January, 1867. Madame Rachel having received Mrs. Borradaile's authority to pay you 1600l., the amount assigned to you by mortgage thereof I undertake, on receipt of the purchase money, to pay you that same. J. Haynes")—I had written authority for that—this is it—(This was dated January 9th, 1867, from Mrs. Borradaile to the witness, requesting him to write to Mr. Cridland, and tell him that it was her wish that he should sell the Reversion, and pay Mr. Cridland his bill, which he could deduct from the Reversion.)—I communicated with Mr. Cridland—this (produced) is a letter from Mrs. Borradaile to me; it is one of those which I complain has been kept from me—(This was dated 5th February, 1868, complaining that she had not received her box of letters.)—I received a letter from Mr. Cridland sending me a copy of a letter—I had eight or ten interviews with him from September, 1866, to April, 1868—I first saw Mrs. Borradaile in June—she did not say anything then with reference to her proposed marriage, but she did subsequently—no one was with her; she came alone twenty or thirty times to my office—on one of those occasions she gave me instructions with reference to these matters, upon which I acted, and with reference to the indebtedness between herself and Madame Rachel—she seemed perfectly to understand what she was about—there was nothing to lead me in the slightest to suspect her capacity of doing a business transaction—at or about that time she said that the money had been paid to Captain William Edwardes—I asked her why she was buying such an extravagant thing as a set of diamonds, when she was being sued for 70l. or 80l., and her reply was, "I am about to be married to my cousin, Captain William Edwardes, who is a cousin of Lord Kensington, to whom I am related"—I saw Madame Rachel and Mrs. Borradaile upon other occasions at my office; and I remember reference being made to a quarrel, or a scene, at my office—there was a violent scene, Madame Rachel was remonstrating with Mrs. Borradaile as to her general extravagance—she seemed to be in anger, and I believe her to have been very angry, and I can give a reason, if necessary—Madame Rachel used the word "paramour," to my astonishment—she said, "You know you have been spending your money recklessly upon your paramour" Mrs. Borradaile made no reply, very much to my surprise; she was silent—I had not acted previously to this as solicitor to Madame Rachel—I had not received monies on account, not a shilling from any source—the cash account between me and Madame Rachel was on a sheet of paper which Madame Rachel had—I have not got it—I do not keep cash books, I keep a sheet of paper—I have no record of monies paid, that is the record—if I was called upon to make up an account I could do so; my banker's book is my account—I have no doubt I shall find these entries of payments to Madame Rachel in my books—I have had a subpoena to produce all books, and I thought I had produced everything you required—I do not see that I have a book which will show these transactions—I paid Madame Rachel 50l. or 60l. in cash, and the rest was by cheque—the acknowledgment was on the sheet—as she received the money she put her mark to it; but I was not satisfied, I handed her the sheet and never got it back—she took it away for the purpose of putting a signature to it—she used to get her daughter to sign these things, as I was not satisfied with the cross—if she chose to burn it I have no voucher—I can produce a book to-morrow morning, showing entries between her and me—this cheque for 270l. (Produced)
is payable to bearer, not to order, as similar cheques are—I have no acknowledgment from Madame Rachel for the money, except as appears on that sheet of paper.
COURT. Q. You say she wanted to send money to Paris; did you give her that cheque that she might send it at once? A. I gave her the cheque at once, and I believe she went from my office to the banker's and received the money—she had a cab at the door, she told me—she asked me for an open cheque—the banker's books are here; the Union Bank—they will give the entries of the notes in which the cheque was paid—it would not appear from my book whether the money went to an agent in Paris—with the exception of that small sum in cash, the cheques will show the amount paid.
Re-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. On this letter of September 21st, a payment is alluded to, to a person whom Mrs. Borradaile calls "My Friend," who did you understand by that? A. I had no knowledge; I had an idea in my mind, but that might be erroneous—I thought it was Captain William Edwardes to whom she was going to be married—I thought the 1400l. spent on the diamonds was with a view to a marriage with Captain William Edwardes—in my bill of costs, here is "28th September, attending you when you stated that Madame Rachel had deceived you, by stating that she had paid 1400l. on your account, to Lord Ranelagh, and advising you thereon;" that is true—Lord Ranelagh's name was never mentioned by Madame Rachel or Mrs. Borradaile—that was the first I had heard of it—previous to that I thought it was for Captain William Edwardes, but after that I thought it was for Lord Ranelagh, whose name was mentioned several times by Mrs. Borradaile and Madame Rachel.
JAMES MINTON repeated his evidence in chief (See p. 353) and added: This is the letter which was given me to copy (The one commencing "One would suppose all the people in your house were dead")—I was there about a dozen times—I did not copy letters on each occasion—previous to this I wrote a letter to Mrs. Borradaile, asking for some money, and then I wrote another, to say that Madame Rachel had not had the money.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Were you examined before the Magistrate? A. Yes—before I was called into the box I only saw Mr. Cridland and his clerk—I know a person named O'Keefe—I saw him once at Mr. Cridland's office before the case came on at Marlborough Street—I did not identify any letter at the Police Office—I said then I had written something applying for money—I was first shown these letters on the Saturday previous to the last trial, at Messrs. Lewis's offices, Ely Place—after the examination at Marlborough Street, I read a report of it the same evening in one of the papers—I only read what I had said myself—I did not read the letters—next day I was too busy to read anything—I never saw Mr. O'Keefe again until I saw him pass me to-day in the Court—I did not speak to him—I spoke to him at Marlborough Street, both before and after I gave evidence—I made no memorandum of what I was going to say, either at the Police Court or here—I believe something was written by me in a pocketbook of mine, in pencil, which I have at home, but I am not sure of the fact—I have the book at 11, Holborn Bars—I think it only refers to the time I was to be at Marlborough Street, and when I was to appear again—I do not know if that is in the book now—I have never made any other memoranda of the evidence I was going to give, except to Mr. Cridland's clerk to put in their brief—I don't know that I made a memorandum of what
evidence I could give, before going to Marlborough Street—I did not show it to my mother—if I did make such a memorandum, it would be about as home, so that she could see it—(A leaf of a pocket-book was shown to the witness)—I know that leaf, and know exactly how it got into your possession—I don't know that I made five pages of memoranda of the evidence I was going to give, but I won't swear I did not—I saw several leaves had been taken from my pocket-book, but did not miss my memorandum—my mother told me on my return that they had been removed, and that she had given it to a gentleman to take a specimen of my handwriting—I said there was nothing of any importance there whieh concerned me—I was told by my mother that a gentleman had called, and said he had come from some great man, who was anxious to get me a good situation—he said he had come up from the country a long distance that morning, and asked her if he could see me—she told him I was not at home, and he said, as I was not at home, could she furnish him with a specimen of my writing—she went up stairs, looked about, and found my desk was locked—he said, "Find some specimen or other"—she said my pocket-book and an envelope were the only things she could find, and he said he should prefer to look in the pocket-book, if she would allow him—she gave him permission, and he took the pocket-book and helped himself—he said that would do very nicely, and tore some leaves out—I did not know what they were—my mother asked him for his address, but he said that was of no consequence, as he would be there again very shortly, and that it was a very good situation, if I only got it; that it was in an architect's office, and inquired if I was still at Mr. Taylor's—that occurred before the last trial—they were not returned, they were taken away by this person to show to his master, as he said—I don't know how many leaves were taken out, or what was on the leaves which were taken out—I have not seen them since—I have no recollection whether they were headed "Madame Rachel," giving the whole of the evidence I was to give—I will not swear it was not so.
Q. Take that paper in your hand; is that a fac-simile Of your writing? A. It is not far off, but it is not mine—it is more like that of the person who wrote it; it is more of a lawyer's style—I entered Mr. Taylor's service on the 26th November, 1866—he was acting as auctioneer to Madame Rachel—on one day, it might have been in February, I took a message to her—I don't remember making a memorandum to that effect, but I won't swear I did not—I do not know where this memorandum may have been written, but I gave this evidence at Mr. Cridland's office—my pocket-book was there—I do not know whether the clerk wrote it down in the pocket-book—I had it, because it had Mr. Cridland's address in it, which I took down at Marlborough Street—my pocket-book was on the table while the clerk took down on paper what I could prove—I don't know that the clerk looked at it, nor did I—there was no memorandum about Madame Rachel's case in it then—all that I missed out of the book was an address—I did not return it to my pocket; I laid it down by my hat, and left it open—I do not remember whether I wrote a memorandum like this: "I was asked by Madame Rachel herself to go to her house of an evening after leaving Mr. Taylor's to conduct her correspondence; to this I agreed, &c."—I will not swear I did not—I do not know whether I made a memorandum with the heading "Various" or whether I wrote under it, "I took an envelope to Mr. Edwards, who was walking outside, an envelope upon which was written 'Edward' only"—I will not swear I did not—you are reading exactly, word
for word, what I told the lawyer—it may have been word for word in my pocket-book, but I do not say that I wrote it, or that I did not.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Were you examined and cross-examined on the last occasion? A. Yes—those leaves were obtained from my pocket-book some time before the last trial, but not a single question was put to me on the subject—I meant to mention it to Mr. Lewis, because I thought it was a very unfair thing—I never saw the paper put into my hands before (A lithograph of the memorandum)—my mother would have been sure to tell me if the leaves had been returned—I thought it was a funny affair giving my mother with a subpoena about what I knew nothing at all about, and I went to Mr. Lewis and asked his advice about it—I made no inquiry about these leaves—I have never seen them before—I can produce the pocket-book to-morrow—when I saw the report I immediately went to Marlborough-street to make it known—I had the pocket-book in my hand, and they gave me Mr. Cridland's address, which I took down; at least I did not see the report, but I was with a gentleman on an omnibus, Mr. Elliott, who called my attention to Madame Rachel's case—I am certain I had no memorandum in the pocket-book when I went to Marlborough Street, because I had only bought it the Saturday before at Walker's, in the Edgware Road—I went direct from the Police Court to Mr. Cridland—when I got there there was no memorondum in the book but Mr. Cridland's address—my father is manager at Mr. Mason's, a wholesale drug manufacturer, Tichborne Street—my mother lives at home, and I live with her at present because I have not been very well the last week, otherwise I live at Lewis & Co's., drapers, Holborn Bars—I have been there since last June—before this I used to write the tickets at Mr. Harris's, a pawnbroker, in Edgware Road—I was three or four months at Mr. Reed's, a solicitor, of 37, Bishopsgate Street—I was with him before, and left because his hours were so late—I was copying clerk there—I was fifteen years old last January, and have earned my own livelihood since the latter end of 1866—I have had no quarrel or dispute or anger towards Madame Rachel, and have never spoken to Mrs. Borradaile—if the leaves have any writing of mine on them I should be able to tell you that without any doubt or hesitation—I think my mother would know the person who came and got the leaves, because from the description she gave I have seen him once or twice looking after me.
MART ANN MINTON . I am the mother of the lad who was called here yesterday—before the last trial of this case, a person came to my house, and took some leaves from a pocket book—I did not see what was on them—I have never seen them since—they have never been brought back—this (produced) is not the pocket book, it is a dark blue one—it was this size, but very old; older than this.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Were you in Court yesterday? A. No; I have never been here before.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. When did you buy that book? A. About the Saturday previous to my first examination at Marlborough street—there may have been some writing on the leaves which were taken out of the book by the man; very likely there was.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Are these the leaves (produced)? A. Yes—they are my writing.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. There is a stroke in black ink at the top of the front leaf, was that made at Mr. Cridland's office? A. I do not know—this "Entered by a clerk," at the bottom, was not done at Mr. Cridland's office—I do not recollect the black mark at all—I swear it was not made at Mr. Cridland's office.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Now that you have got that in your hand, can you distinctly bring to your mind when you wrote it? A. Since yesterday I have reflected on the matter, and made inquiries—I remember making the memorandum, and that was after my examination at Marlborough Street, to refresh my memory—I am quite certain that it was after my examination—I spoke to my father on the subject, and he reminded me of it.
COLONEL WILLIAM EDWARDES repeated his former evidence (See p. 356), and added: I was a Captain in the Coldstream Guards in 1867—I got my promotion in March, 1867—I forget whether I saw the prosecutrix in Wales—I have never received a shilling from Mr. Haynes, or from anybody connected with Madame Rachel—I never knew anything about this till I saw the report in the papers, and never set eyes on the prisoner till I saw her in the dock in the last case—there is no Captain William Edwardes but myself.
ALEXANDER COPE repeated his evidence (See p. 356) and added: I live in Flintshire, and am a Magistrate of the County, and Chairman of Petty Sessions—when I went with my wife and Mrs. Borradaile to the prisoner's shop, and asked her whether she had received the money or not, she said that she knew nothing about it—my wife and Mrs. Borradaile both made an exclamation, and I suggested that we had better leave and put the matter into the hands of a solicitor—we were not in the shop more than five or six minutes—nothing else was said by the prisoner on the subject of money in my presence.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Do you pledge yourself to the exact words of her answer? A. No, but as far as my recollection serves, those were the exact words—I returned to Wales the same evening, Monday, September 3rd; and on the Tuesday or Wednesday, I believe it was Wednesday I received this letter from Madame Rachel—this other letter was inclosed—on receiving these two letters, I at once came to town, called on Mrs. Borradaile, and saw her; and on the Monday I went to the Carlton Club and drove to Mr. Haynes' office—I showed the copy of the letter to Mrs. Borradaile, and inquired whether she wrote the original—she said, "Yes"—(This was a copy of Mrs. Borradaile's letter of September 4th, before put in; the following is the letter in which it was inclosed. Read: "47A, New Bond Street, September 4, 1866. Sir. It is my duty to inform you that after you left town yesterday I was given to understand by Mrs. Borradaile, who had taken her leave of you when in the cab to return to Wales, that she had given you her word of honour not to visit or hold further communication with me until she had consulted Mr. Haynes. She further added that it was your orders she should at once remove from George Street, and that you understood she would do so. I explained to her this morning the importance of her consulting her solicitor, for her own sake as well as for mine, after what she said about me in your presence yesterday; but she refused, and up to this time—my messenger from Mr. Haynes has just come to say she has not been there to-day. How far her assertions are to be relied on, after that, I leave you to judge. Please to remember that she said the people of the house
and myself had formed a league against her. So far from that being so, I beg leave to assure you I don't know the people. Mrs. Borradaile requested a youth in my employment, last night, to obtain a lodging for her, and at her desire he got apartments in Davies Street, and she went there. She is aware that there is a judgment against her on a bill of exchange which she gave to a dealer in lace in Oxford Street She asked the man on Saturday to renew the bill for a fortnight; but it appears he won't agree. Mrs. Borradaile called on me again this morning, when she asked me questions again concerning Lord Ranelagh; but my reply, as in your presence, was that it was her own invention, and all false. I don't forget your kind remark that there are two sides to a question. Enclosed I send you a true copy of a letter sent by Mrs. Borradaile to her lover. It will be for you to judge and draw your own conclusions from it. The original you are quite welcome to, with others which have been sent back. Mrs. Borradaile has led me to suppose for six months that she was to be married to her cousin, Captain William Edwardes.—Believe me, yours truly, Rachel."
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. At the first interview are you quite sure Lord Ranelagh's name was mentioned? A. Yes, on Monday—the prisoner made no allusions on that occasion to any lover—I got this letter two days after I got into Flintshire—there is no claim of money in it—when Mrs. Borradaile admitted having written the original of the inclosure, I said, "What could induce you to do such a thing?"—she said that she was under a magnetic influence from Madame Rachel, and wrote it under her dictation—it appears by Madame Rachel's statement that she lent my sister-in-law 700l. on 1st September—that is the day on which I came to town; but there was not a word said about 700l. by anyone.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. You have used the words "magnetic influence" and "dictation," you did not say so on the last examination? A. I believe I did—I was not before the Magistrate.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Have you any doubt of those words being used? A. Not the shadow of a doubt.
THOMAS WILLIAM O'KEEFE I have been staying at Paris for the last nine or ten weeks—I saw a report of the proceedings in this case published in Tuesday's newspaper—I was not subpoenaed for the Prosecution or the Defence; but, in consequence of seeing my name in the paper, I came forward for the purpose of giving evidence—there is no connection of any kind between me and Mrs. Borradaile—The "Times" imputed to me and my son that we were Fenians—my son is in Ireland: he has not been in this country for three years and five months—I had another son, who died 15 years ago—my Irish son is married, and has five children—he is 34 years of age, extremely fair, and very delicate-looking since his return from Australia—he is not half military, half sportsman, and has never worn a black moustache—the first time I saw Mrs. Borradaile, was the beginning of April last—I did not know Mr. Cridland, the then solicitor of Mrs. Borradaile—I became acquainted with him on my return from Paris—I was requested to go to Paris by a lady friend of Mrs. Borradaile's—I found her at 9, Rue Castiglioni, one of the most respectable streets—I made a communication to her, which brought her back to London.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Have you ever been to Maddox Street? A. Never—I do not know a person named Cribb, or Houston—I never heard of them or saw them—I do not know of two persons going to Madame Rachel's shortly after the inquiry at Marlborough Street, distinctly
and decidedly no; I know nothing whatever about it—I was not in communication in Paris with Mrs. Borradaile about this prosecution, but in London—I only had interveiws with her twice in Paris, and I recommended her to leave Paris in order to put an end to certain scandalous reports which had been whispered about—I was not aware that there were civil proceedings between her and Madame Rachel—I was informed of it after I returned from Paris—I did not suggest to Mrs. Borradaile that she would be able to make terms better, if in place of civil proceedings she tried criminal; nothing of the sort—I recommended her, in Mr. Cridland's presence, to take criminal proceedings, because I considered it a very serious case, but I never spoke of terms—I believe I said that it would be the best way to recover her property; and I believe I said that it would be better than civil proceedings for getting her money.
Q. Have you had any personal experience of the value of criminal proceedings in enabling a person to recover money? A. I know what you are referring to; some fifteen years ago, I was tried in this Court for obtaining money from a lady under promise of marriage—(See sessions Papers, vol. XL, p. 1263)—I was found Guilty by the Jury, but the learned Recorder discharged me on my own recognizance, and shortly afterwards the lady made a confession on oath that the charge was unfounded; and Mr. Serjeant Parry was my Counsel on that occasion—I paid back what I considered was advanced, 100l.
COURT. Q. What did she confess on oath? A. That there was no ground for it, and I think it is a cruel thing to introduce the subject now, because she is a respectable married lady.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. The charge was that you obtained the money, you being at the time a married man? A. Yes; but the Recorder discharged me, and the lady's confession upon oath is sufficient—I believe Mr. Serjeant Ballantine was present—I was not to pay 20l. a year, nothing of the sort—the lady made the oath in the presence of the clerk to a solicitor, Mr. Wontner, or some such person, in some Court; I can produce the document, it is in Paris, but I will send for it—I never saw Minton before he went to the Police Court, not even for a few minutes—the first time I saw him he was sent to the Police Court—it is a very difficult thing to swear that I did not converse with Minton before he was examined at the Police Court, but to the best of my belief I did not—I will not swear what I have the least doubt of—I was in the Police Court on every occasion—I know Miss. Sutton well, and have known her for a very long time; she knew Mrs. Borradaile, and gave me a letter of introduction to her at Paris—I have heard that she made Mrs. Borradaile's acquaintance in Whitecross Street—I believe she was in London about the time this charge was made, and I think I saw her, but I have seen her so frequently, that I cannot say—I have no doubt of it; I saw her at various places, sometimes in my own house—she was not living in the same house, but she used to call once or twice a week on business. Mrs. Borradaile has been to my house once or twice, and I think Miss Sutton has been there once; when she has been there, I am not quite sure—I have no house in Paris, I had a house in Hans Place, London, for fifteen months—Miss Sutton took charge of it for eight days, while I was in Paris, and then I sent for my own servants; it was a furnished house—I know a Mrs. Donoghue, the widow of one of the proposed bail in this case; he was bail for a short time—he has died since he was proposed bail—the widow lives near the Olympic Theatre, Wych Street, I think—I went there to ascertain whether Mr. Donoghue was proper and good bail, and I
found he was, and I consented to his being bail, and the Magistrate approved of his being bail for 1000l., I believe—I was assisting Mr. Cridland in the prosecution—Mrs. Donoghue told me that she knew Madame Rachel—I do not think I stated to her that I thought it was a great pity Madame Rachel should be so foolish as to defend so bad a case, and that I would recommend her husband not to be bail—I did not suggest what might be done if she was willing to come to terms—I never spoke about terms at all, nor did I suggest a compromise, or a settlement; I suggested that it was Madame Rachel's duty to pay Mrs. Borradaile, and that it would be better for her to pay, but I never said that if she paid, probably the criminal proceedings would not go on—what I meant I meant to myself, but it was a natural conclusion—the amount was not mentioned—I did not use the expression "Pay something," or that "It would be better for her to pay something"—I understood that Mr. Cridland had a judgment against her—I said that it would be better for her to settle that—I meant to pay the action, not the criminal proceedings—I went there to ascertain whether Mr. Donoghue was a fit person to be bail—I think it was after the proceedings in Marlborough Street, that I said it would be better for her to pay—Madame Rachel was under commitment for trial when I called—Donoghue was proposed as bail, found to be a respectable man, and he, contrary to my advice, became bail for 1000l.—Mrs. Borradaile was not aware of my interview with Mr. Donoghue—I told Mrs. Borradaile long before that a criminal proceeding would be better for her to recover her property—she was not inclined to prosecute if she got her money back, and since this prosecution she said that she pitied Madame Rachel very much—I was there five or ten minutes, and Mr. Donoghue showed me some title deeds of houses—when I referred to the action I said that it would be better to settle or pay, I did not mean to convey to Mrs. Donoghue that by making terms and coming to a settlement, the criminal proceedings would be abandoned—that idea never occurred to me—I was afraid that if she was bailed she would never appear—this was after she was committed—I did it to caution and advise Mrs. Donoghue—I expected that Madame Rachel would pay the civil matter, and that there would be no criminal proceedings.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Whether you acted properly or improperly, had you authority from Mrs. Borradaile to say a single word about settling it? A. No—the matter has been in the hands of Lewis & Lewis—I have been abroad all the time—Mrs. Borradaile was introduced to me by Miss Sutton—my character has been at stake, and I bind myself to produce the document.
MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Do you know that lady? A. Yes, Mrs. Donoghue—I was bound to pay a certain sum, but was discharged from the debt.
SARAH SUTTON . I am unmarried, and am in the literary profession—I first met Mrs. Borradaile in Whitecross Street Prison, and formed an acquaintance with her—I had put my name to a bill for a lady; she did not pay it, and I was in Whitecross Street about a fortnight or three weeks—she there made a communication to me with regard to Madame Rachel—I had known Mr. O'Keefe several years—sometimes I have seen him five or six times a year; sometimes not for two years together—I introduced him to Mrs. Borradaile last year, by giving him a letter of introduction to her in Paris—I had never seen Madame Rachel but once prior to giving O'Keefe that letter—Mrs. Borradaile asked me to go with her to Madame Rachel's, to ask her to supply her with some things which she had paid her a large
sum of money for, and we went—Mrs. Borradaile said that she was going to leave town, and requested her to send her some cosmetiques and her clothes—Madame Rachel told me she would send them, and then she said, "When are you going to get me the money Lord Ranelagh owes me?"—Madame Rachel said, turning to me, "Lord Ranelagh has not had any of her money; has she told you that Lord Ranelagh has had her money?"—I said, "Yes"—she said, "Her William has had her money, and he will not allow her to leave town; he has been walking up and down for her the last two hours"—I said, "What does this mean, Mrs. Borradaile?"—she said, in Madame Rachel's presence, "That horrid, wicked woman is deceiving you; there is no William; Lord Ranelagh is the man"—Madame Rachel appeared confused, and said, "Oh no, it is your William"—I said to Madame Rachel, "I think you are both in love with Lord Ranelagh; one lends him her money, and the other screens him from repayment"—Mrs. Borradaile said, "There is no William"—she repeated that several times, and she told Madame Rachel she was a horrid, wicked, deceptive woman, and used very harsh terms to her—when Madame Rachel said that William was walking up and down, I said to her, "Call him in, and let me see him"—she said, "Oh no, my dear Madame, I cannot do that, I never tell my ladies' little intrigues"—she did not call him in—I said, "Let us go, Mrs. Borradaile," and we left—I looked all round to see if there was anybody who spoke to her, or who was waiting there, and there was not—I then went home with her, to George Street, and stayed with her two hours—I have seen her, perhaps three times a week since January last.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Were you subpoenaed by Mr. Roberts? A. By both sides—I was not examined before.
JOSEPH PIKE . I am a jeweller, of 138, New Bond Street—in May, June, and July, 1866, Mrs. Borradaile came to my shop—there had been one or two transactions which my assistants had attended to, and in the early part of June, I went to 47A, New Bond Street, where I saw Madame Rachel and Mrs. Borradaile—I did not take a tiara and diamond necklace with me—I understood from Mrs. Borradaile that there was to be a marriage, and she said, in Madame Rachel's presence, would I bring some diamonds over for her to see?—my shop is only forty or fifty houses from there—I went and brought some diamonds over—Madame Rachel was present—I showed them to Mrs. Borradaile, and she ultimately ordered them—I had them on hand some time, and afterwards got 100l. to cancel the transaction.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Subsequently to that did you see Mrs. Borradaile? A. Yes—she came and examined some diamonds, and took a look round, as ladies will do—I am not positive whether she asked the prices—I heard that she had called afterwards, but I was not present—my assistant is not here—she appeared to know what she was about, and to be a perfect woman of business.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Do you find that it requires an infinite amount of shrewdness to examine diamonds? A. Not much—she was shrewd in her purchases, in ordering large diamonds instead of small—I have known ladies do that before.
WILLIAM PROCTER . I am a draper, of 155, Brompton Road—about the middle of May, 1866, I supplied goods to Mrs. Borradaile, to the amount of 150l., which was paid me—some of them were suitable for a wedding—they were sent to 47A, New Bond Street.
Cross-examined by MR. D. SEYMOUR. Q. Did she select them? A. Yes
—she appeared to be a woman of business; she understood them.
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. She understood nightgowns and chemises? A. Yes.
VISCOUNT RANELAGH repeated his former evidence (See page 355), and added: I did not send Mrs. Borradaile a silver vinaigrette, or any article of that description purporting to come from a sainted mother of mine—these are the articles that were sent (produced)—you can judge for yourself whether they were ever likely to have belonged to my mother—it is not a matter of recollection, but of certainty, that I did not give my card to Mrs. Borradaile—every single word in these letters, so far as I am concerned, is false—I am not the author of the letters signed William.
Witnesses for the Defence.
WILLIAM HENRY ROBERTS . I have acted as attorney for Madame Rachel since 23rd June—I was not her attorney when she was examined at the Police Court—the whole of the letters were handed to me by my clerk in the first instance, and have been in my custody ever since—all the letters put in on this trial were present on the last trial, and were submitted to Counsel—Mr. Seymour came up from Leeds to the last trial, and had but a very short time to prepare; he was very much fatigued—everything that was done was by the advice and discretion of Counsel—I employed a person for the purposes of this trial, and for the defence of Madame Rachel, to ascertain who the boy Minton was, and to get his writing—I was under the impression yesterday that Minton's original notes had been returned.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Who was the person? A. Mr. Clark, a process server—I did not leave him to invent any little ingenious excuse; I gave him instructions as to the character of the boy—I did not tell him to say that he had got a good place for him.
RACHEL LEVERSON . I believe I am 27—I am the oldest daughter of the prisoner—I have a sister named Leontie, about 20 or 21—my mother has seven children; the youngest is seven years old—I have a brother, named David; in 1866 he was at school—he is now studying medicine in Paris—no person named "Edward" was ever at our establishment—my mother occupied 47A, Bond Street, the ground floor only—the shop and a very small back room—there is a glass door between the shop and the room, so that persons in the shop can see—Mrs. Borradaile was constantly at our shop as a customer; except that, I know nothing of any connection between her and my mother—she came the same as any other lady—our articles are very expensive—we took a house in Maddox Street, in September, 1866, where we resided—to my knowledge Mrs. Borradaile has never been in that house—I have never seen her writing when I was in the room—I know nothing of the letters signed "William."—I have never written a letter signed "Mrs. Borradaile," neither has anyone else done so to my knowledge—I do not remember the introduction of Lord Ranelagh to Mrs. Borradaile—the boy Minton was never employed by my mother in writing letters—he was turned out of my mother's house on many occasions—he came from a Mr. Taylor, an auctioneer, whose claim was disputed, and his manner was complained of, on account of his impertinence—he used to come backwards and forwards with messages—my mother never employed him to my knowledge in writing letters of any sort.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. You were not called on the last occasion? A. No, I was at home—I was here the first day, but not afterwards—the house in Maddox Street was taken in 1866, about June, I think, but we were not in possession until December, as it required a great many alterations, and a good deal of money to be laid out upon it—my mother did not take an opera box in 1866, but in the season of 1867 she had one in the pit tier—I do not know if it was a 400 guinea one—I went to Paris in 1867, but I can't remember the date—I used to sleep at the country house at Blackheath, during the latter part of 1866 and 1867—my mother sometimes remained in London—my mother cannot write—I and my sister Leontie used to write for her—there was a boy, about 14 or 15, named William, in the shop—I don't know where he is, or when I saw him last—it may have been since this last trial, at Mr. Roberts' office—Mr. Roberts may tell you when—I cannot remember exactly, but it was after the account in the papers at Marlborough Street, and before the proceedings in this Court—the boy applied to mamma for charity—he came into mamma's service some months before I went to Paris, but I can't say whether he left before I went to Paris—I never remember seeing Mrs. Borradaile there of an evening, to my knowledge—I was there of an evening, and I swear to my knowledge she was never there of an evening—I have seen her in the parlour and in the shop, in the day time, but never of an evening—I went to Paris about the commencement of 1867, owing to mamma's accident in Paris—I went to Paris and resumed her profession there, when she returned to England—Mrs. Borradaile is an old customer—I do not remember her being introduced to Lord Ranelagh—Mr. Haynes acted as our solicitor, and I knew my mother received money of him in matters of business—the shop closes at 6 or 7 o'clock in the winter, and later in the summer—I do not know of my mother receiving letters from Mrs. Borradaile, or receiving letters to be given to her—mamma was a great deal at home, in Bond Street—I used to leave Bond Street in the evening at various times; the time and season made it very uncertain—I never slept there—sometimes I would go home at 6 o'clock, and sometimes I could only catch the last train—our profession occupies so much of our time—September is our Brighton season, when we are busy sending our preparations to sea-side places—my sister, Leontie, was there more than I—we could not leave mamma entirely, she was always in very bad health—I never saw the boy Minton in my life—I only knew of his being turned out, from my sister—we kept no books in our establishment—I did not know of a letter going to Mr. Cope—the letter to him is not in my writing, it is the writing of our boy William, to the best of my belief—I have seen him directing parcels and writing telegrams, so I know his writing—I don't know whose writing this is, it is not my sister's—it is the same style of writing as the other; it may be William's, but I will not swear—I don't know an Edward—I cannot swear to these other letters—I do not believe this one to be the boy William's—this is Mrs. Borradaile's hand; but this "150l. a-year, to be paid quarterly out of my pension," I believe to be written by my sister in Paris, aged 17—she went to Paris shortly after mamma, in 1867, and is conducting my profession in Paris, selling cosmetiques and attending to our ladies—William, the shopboy, is the only William that I know or have ever heard of; but the name is so common that I cannot swear—Mrs. Borradaile used to be in and out the shop and parlour many times in the day, she was a great trouble—I cannot say that I never saw her write in the parlour—to my knowledge, I
never saw her write at all, and never saw her there in the evening—the Royal Arabian Soap, two guineas a cake; Royal Nursery Soap, two guineas a cake; Royal Palace Soap, two guineas a cake; Royal Victoria Soap, two guineas a cake; Princess of Wales Soap, two guineas a cake; Alexandra Soap, two guineas a cake; Prince of Wales Soap, two guineas a cake; Armenian Soap; Herb Soap, for removing wrinkles; Sultana Beauty Wash; Mount Hymettus Soap; Magnetic Dew-water from the Desert of Sahara, two guineas a bottle, are all articles in which we deal—we put various preparations into baths—we have Jordan water at more than twenty guineas a bottle—I am not bound to expose our profession, and say where we get it from—I do not know that it is brought from the River Jordan; but it comes from the East—I believe that it comes from the River Jordan, I do not know it, but it is consigned to us—I shall not say from who—I shall not expose our profession—if you did not interfere with our trade, your wife might—I mean to say that it is consigned to us from abroad—I believe it comes from the River Jordan—do you not know where the River Jordan is; is it not in Jerusalem?—I say that it is—we have not an agent there—I shall not tell you where he is—my sister and myself wrote part of the pamphlet, "Beautiful for ever"—the paragraph about the Magnetic Rock of Sahara, is not mine, it is from the "Illustrated London News"—I did not know of the 1000l. which my mother obtained from Mrs. Borradaile; I have heard that mamma had negociations with her, and had great difficulty in getting her fee—she never told me whether she got the 1000l. at last.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. Are these fees and prices charged to all your customers? A. Yes, this is our price list—we had a great number of customers as well as Mrs. Borradaile—Mr. Haynes has transacted mamma's business for many years, and paid her other money besides what he paid for Mrs. Borradaile—we knew him before Mrs. Borradaile became a customer—the boy William was discharged for theft, which was brought to Mr. Roberts, our attorney's knowledge—our best season is that of the opera, drawing-rooms, and balls; and out of the season, when the fashionable world is away, we are employed in sending articles to Brighton and other places, and many ladies come up from the country—my sister's place of business is in Paris—she went there in the beginning of 1867, and has remained there ever since, except coming over to see mamma—those names are to give a certain fashion to the soaps.
LEONTIE LEVERSON . I am a younger sister of the lady just examined, and a daughter of Madame Rachel—in 1866 and 1867 I was helping her in Bond Street—I remember Mrs. Borradaile coming as a customer—I have never written a letter signed "William" for my mother, or forged Mrs. Borradaile's handwriting—there was never a young man named Edward in our employment—I never knew any person named William—I assisted my mamma in her profession by putting into bottles and packets the articles we sell to our customers—Minton used to bring letters from Mr. Taylor to my mamma for an account—he was never admitted inside the place, and never wrote any letters for my mamma—there is no room for writing in the shop, and the boy never came into the room—I complained to Mr. Taylor of Minton's impertinence when he called for the account—I turned him away myself from the door on one occasion—I always saw him because I generally answered the door.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Were you in England on the last trial? A. Yes—some time ago we had a boy named William, to
carry letters and deliver messages—I never saw him write letters—he used to direct parcels—I and my sister, not the one in Paris, used to conduct my mother's business—the boy used to come for part of an account, which has not been paid, because it was unjust—I don't know whether mamma got 1000l. for beautifying Mrs. Borradaile—I know she had a great deal of trouble about it—our ladies generally pay—I had a great deal of curiosity about it; but I am not quite sure whether she got it—I know my mamma gave Mrs. Borradaile a great deal of money in notes and gold—she was always borrowing money—I cannot say the time when, but in 1866 I have seen my mamma giving her money repeatedly—I cannot give an instance—we often lend money to our customers, and they return it—we never take interest, we are not money lenders—I have never seen Mrs. Borradaile return any money—I have seen her borrow it in the shop and in the parlour, in the evening; but our shop closes at 6 o'clock—I cannot tell you any one time within six months, but she had money many times in that time—she was always borrowing money—she used to come to mamma and tell her she was in great distress—it might have been twice in some weeks for almost the whole time that my mamma has known Mrs. Borradaile—from June, 1866, she borrowed money, but I don't swear to any month, on and off for the year—I dare say she did borrow in all the months, and I will swear she did borrow in most of the months—she would borrow sometimes very large amounts, but I don't remember the amounts—on one occasion mamma lent her either 100l. or 200l.—there were, I dare say, larger amounts, but I don't remember—I think she borrowed the 100l. or 200l. in 1866, or in the year afterwards—I did not take notice of the dates—it might have been a few months before the end of 1866, or a few months after the commencement of 1867—I cannot give a nearer date than that—this sum was given in the shop or in the parlour, I think it was in the shop—I do not know what she said when she asked for it, or what my mother said—I know it, because I heard her ask mamma something, and saw mamma give her the money—she did not put her hand into her pocket—I have no idea where she got it, or what it was in, but I saw her give Mrs. Borradaile some money; I saw the notes—I do not know where she got them from—she has no banker, and never had, to my knowledge—she generally keeps her money somewhere in the shop, but I do not know where—I do not know what mamma said, we are always too much engaged, we have such a heavy business to attend to—I dare say the money was close at hand, because the place is not very large—she keeps her money in a cabinet in the little parlour, generally—I do not know whether she asked Mrs. Borradaile for a memorandum, and I did not see Mrs. Borradaile give her one—my mamma did not set up a carriage—the opera box was about the beginning of the season; it was this year—it was not last year also—I will not swear that she did not start an opera box in May or June, 1867, because I do not know; but it was at the beginning of our season—I have never seen William since he left our service—I do not know a person named Edward—I am not the young lady Lord Ranelagh was talking to when Mrs. Borradaile was introduced—I have never seen Mrs. Borradaile at the shop after business—I do not know what time in the evening mamma lent Mrs. Borradaile the money, but our business is over at 7 o'clock—I cannot tell you how often she did so, what was the largest sum lent in the evening, or whether it was notes or gold, or in what part of the shop it was—it was before the shop was closed, because Mrs. Borradaile was never there after business—I know no Edward, and no
other William but the shop boy—mamma is in the shop or back parlour the whole day, when she is well enough—she very seldom goes out during business hours.
MR. SERJEANT PARRY. Q. When you have seen your mother lend money to Mrs. Borradaile, was your particular attention called to the matter at the time? A. No—I do not fix any date or any particular sum—on my solemn oath, I have seen my mamma hand money to Mrs. Borradaile—I remember her calling, it might be in 1866, and it might be in 1864—my duty in the shop was preparing and arranging—I do the hard work, such as men do, putting these preparations in bottles, and putting them in paper—my sister and I work hard at that—while I was so employed I saw sums of money paid—there is only the shop and parlour, and a bottle place down stairs—when the shop was closed, at 7 o'clock, I carried away the key, and there was no entrance afterwards—the shop was not left in the care of anyone during the night—my father does not live with us—he has his own chambers; he and my mother are not on very good terms
MR. SERJEANT BALLANTINE. Q. Where does your father live? A. At 25, Dean Street, Soho Square.
COURT. Q. Where did you go at 7 o'clock? A. To Blackheath—Mamma and I generally went—I very seldom stayed in town for a night, only when mamma was ill—she was not often ill—there is no bed at 47A, only a little couch in the parlour—I do not remember having seen this long account—I do not know the figures, but I know it is Mrs. Borradaile's writing—part of this other document is in Mrs. Borradaile's writing, and part in my sister's, who is in Paris—this letter (from the prisoner to Mr. Cope) I believe to be the writing of that boy who used to be in our shop.
COURT to VISCOUNT RANELAGH. Q. Be good enough to look at that letter, addressed to Lord Ranelagh, Burlington Street? A. Yes, I had that letter.
GUILTY .— Five Years' Penal Servitude .
OLD COURT.—Saturday, September 26th, 1868.
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MESSRS. STRAIGHT and DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. BESEY and WRIGHT the Defence.
ERNEST ROBINSON . I am clerk to the Registrar in Bankruptcy—I produce the proceedings in the bankruptcy of William Darling—he was adjudicated a bankrupt on 19th December, 1867, on his own petition—the liabilities were 1171l. 18s. 2d.—there were no assets.
ALFRED JECKS . I am clerk to Mr. Preston, solicitor to this prosecution—I was present at the Court of Bankruptcy when this deposition was signed by the bankrupt—I saw him sign each sheet—they were read over to him by his own solicitor—there is a correction at the end, signed by him.
RANDOLPH HENRY HORN . I am a solicitor, at Staines—I produce the lease of a piece of land at Stanwell, from a Mr. Drake to Mr. Darling—I am the attesting witness—it is dated 19th March, 1866, for ninety-nine years, barring one day, at a ground rent of 15l. a year—I should think the land was a bare acre—I also produce a mortgage of that land, with a house erected on it, by Darling to the West Middlesex Building Society, dated
14th January, 1867, for a consideration of 195l.—I also produce an assignment of the equity of redemption from Darling to Anthony Simpson, dated 23rd October, 1867, for the consideration of 150l.—I am the attesting witness to that—I prepared the deed, I believe by the instruction of Darling, accompanied by Spearing and Simpson—Darling and Spearing gave me the full instructions—Darling, Spearing, and Simpson all called in the second week in October—no consideration money passed in my presence when it was executed.
Cross-examined. Q. Who is the owner in fee of the land that went by the lease of 19th March? A. I believe Mr. Sidney Smith—I believe no premium was paid for the lease—I prepared the lease from Drake to Darling—I acted for both parties—it was a sub-lease for the residue of Drake's term—at that time there was no building upon it—I believe it was intended to have buildings, and market gardens in the rear—there is a covenant in the deed that Darling shall erect at least one tenement, to contain six rooms—I was solicitor to the building society, and acted for Darling as well, in the usual way—I don't recollect that monies had been advanced by Messrs. Ashby, the bankers, at that time to Darling; it is very possible—I don't know that the 195l. was paid to the bankers, and not to Darling—there is a provision in the mortgage deed that upon failure of the payment of the instalments they shall have a right to sell—it was an absolute mortgage, but it was supposed to be paid off in ten years and a half, and the deed would then be endorsed receipted, and handed to him—they are monthly instalments—I don't know how much was in arrear—if they sold there would be no equity of redemption—Spearing, Darling, and Simpson, first instructed me as to the assignment of the equity of redemption on Wednesday, 15th October, 1867; that appears in my call-book—those were the first instructions which I really, bond fide, received to prepare that deed, and on that and the following day they called again, and a day was fixed to settle, and they again called on 23rd October—it is possible that I may have said I could not tell who gave me instructions to prepare that deed, because I had not looked; at my books when I was asked that before the Magistrate I said I could not tell how long before its execution I had received instructions, I had not then looked at my books—I said there was a delay in making it out, because I was pressed for business; that did not mean delay between the original instructions and the actual execution—I saw Darling one evening in September, at Mr. Walker's, the bookseller, and he then said he should shortly want an assignment prepared—when the matter was first before the Magistrate, I was present only as Clerk to the Justices, not as a witness, and I was merely asked about the handwriting—I have no recollection of Spearing coming to me in September, and my then saying I would get it done as soon as possible—I knew Darling before—I don't recollect having acted for him before, or for Spearing; he is a publican at Staines, and a furniture broker—I don't know that he had a bill of sale—I do not know a Mr. Gristwood—I never heard of him till this matter came up—I have heard from the bankrupt's daughter that Gristwood advanced 500l., but I know nothing of it—I don't know that I ever saw Anthony Simpson, jun., of Iver Heath, baker—Iver Heath is seven or eight miles from Staines—I know nothing of the Simpson family.
EDWARD CATLING . I am a brickmaker, at Shepperton, and am the creditors' assignee under this bankruptcy—in July and August, 1867, I sold some bricks to the defendant, 32, 600 in all, they came to 62l. 15s. 7d.—he
gave me this bill at two months, which was dishonoured—in October, I saw some of those bricks at the Vine beer-shop—as near as I could count them there was about 8000—I also saw some at a place called Frog's Island, where the defendant had ten cottages and about an acre of ground—I went again to the Vine beer shop in January, 1868, and the bricks were then gone, and in May I drove by Frog's Island, and those were also gone.
Cross-examined. Q. When the bill was given were the bricks all delivered? A. Yes—I commenced proceedings against him directly the bill was dishonoured—I found he had absconded—he had bought some potatoes of me in July, and paid for them—I would not allow him to have them until he had done so—he was introduced to me by Spearing—I believe the defendant supplied two or three loads of straw to my son—that was struck off the balance of the potatoes—I was not very much annoyed at losing my money—I never said I would stick to the man because he had dishonoured my bill—I said before the Magistrate that I was the only one that had carried the case on.
The examination of the bankrupt was put in and read.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
DAVID ROUGH . I am an oil and seed broker, and live at Mardon Villas, Ashley Road, Hornsey Rise—the prisoner was my housekeeper for eight months—she was under notice to leave on 11th September—between 9 and 10 that morning my wife asked her why she had not gone; she said she did not intend to go, and uttered some threat, that her doom was sealed if she was turned away, or something to that effect—I said to her "You must go, you ought not to speak to my wife in that way, I will give you five minutes to consider whether you will go peaceably or not"—this was in the garden—she went in doors, through the kitchen, and in less than ten minutes there was a ringing at the door bell and the servants next door said the house was on fire—I rushed into the house and up stairs to my bedroom—the window was open and smoke rushing out; there was so much smoke that I could not enter for a minute or two—the wardrobe in the bedroom was burning; there were clothes in it belonging to my wife and children—there was no fire in that room and had not been since we had been in the house—there were no persons in the house but my wife, my children, and the prisoner—I got some water, and with great difficulty succeeded in putting out the fire—I then searched the house everywhere for the prisoner, and she was gone—about 7 o'clock in the evening she returned in a cab—she said she had come to see what mischief she had done, and to say good bye—I said "You old wretch, you ought to be ashamed of yourself, I will give you in charge at once," which I did—on examining the house there was a strong smell of gas, and I found the whole of the gas burners in the drawing-room turned fully on, and also in the bed-room, which was on fire.
Prisoner. He has often given me bottles of gin. It was through drink, from beginning to end—that was the cause of it.
Witness. She was intoxicated the day before—I have occasionally given her a bottle of gin and a little port wine, as she complained of being dull
and lonely—I was very seldom at home—she was not intoxicated on this morning; but the previous day, when we came home we could not get in—I had to break in, and I found her in bed and under the influence of drink—when she came back in the cab she appeared in drink.
Prisoner. He gave me notice, and I said I would not go. Mrs. Rough has always been very kind. When she said I should go I felt vexed, and drank some more. I had no intention. I went up stairs to put up my clothes and it struck me at the moment to set fire to the wardrobe, and I did so, and then I went and got some laudanum to finish myself, but it did not take effect.
CHARLES O. LOCKLEY (Police Inspector Y). On the evening of 11th September, the prisoner was brought to the Highgate Station, charged with setting fire to Mr. Rough's house—I read the charge to her—she said, "It is all right, I did it through mischief"—the female searcher, in her presence, gave me two bottles, which she said she had found upon her, and a small mug—I smelt them—they had contained laudanum—I asked the prisoner what they contained—she said, "What I have been drinking"—I said, "It is laudanum"—she made no answer—one of the bottles contained pure opium—these are them (produced)—I afterwards went to the prosecutor's house—I examined the wardrobe, it was burnt, and the ceiling was scorched—in the prisoner's bedroom I found a bottle that had evidently contained laudanum.
COURT. Q. How long was she in your custody? A. About two hours—while there she made an attempt upon her life—the divisional surgeon was called in—a bandage, which she had evidently taken from some part af her body, was tied round her neck so tightly that it had to be cut—I asked her why she did it, and she said, "She had done it before, and would do it again"—she also stated before the Magistrate, that she was determined to kill herself; she said at one time she had taken laudanum, but it did not seem to be enough, and then she took some more, and that appeared to be too much—she was sick at the station—at the time I took her she was labouring under drink or laudanum; my impression was that it was laudanum—she was seen by a medical man; he is not here—we sent her at once to the infirmary at the workhouse, not wishing to keep her all night at the station, where she would have no medical attention—I have made inquiries at places where she has previously been in service—at one place her employer told me she was a woman of very irritable temper, that she left the house in a passion, on one occasion, when his wife spoke to her as to some domestic arrangement, and, in the evening, he found a bottle of paraffin oil spilt under the hall door, and some lucifer matches; and next morning she came opposite the house and broke to pieces some chimney ornaments which his wife had given her—she has made two previous attempts upon her life—some benevolent ladies once took care of her, and, for some time, thought they should reclaim her; but some of them informed me that they considered she was sometimes out of her mind, and not mistress of her actions—they spoke highly of her when she was calm, but she broke out so frequently—I believe she is an opium eater, and in the habit of taking laudanum.
GEORGE PARRY (Police Sergeant Y 14). At 9.40 on the night in question I spoke to the prisoner in the cell, she did not answer, and when I opened the door I found her on the floor, with this rag tied three or four times tightly round her neck, I took out my knife and cut it—she was black in the face—the surgeon was sent for—after she had slightly recovered she
said, "Why did not you let me do it; I shall never be able to show my face again after what I have done"—next morning, at the Police Court, she said, "It is no use, I am determined to do it."
JANE PROCTER . I am married, and live at No. 2, Prince of Wales Road, Kentish Town—I have known the prisoner about 14 years—when she is calm and kindly treated she is a most devoted and faithful person, thoroughly upright and honest, and strongly attached to those who are kind to her—I have heard her speak of Mr. and Mrs. Rough in most exalted terms; but when she is irritated she is so very much excited that she is scarcely responsible for what she does—she has made attempts upon her life when under excitement; her strength being overtaxed, either mentally or bodily, will produce that excitement, but drink especially—she hasn't been given to drinking—she has told me that at one time she had a strong temptation that way, but that she battled against it in spite of her weak head, and weakly health—she has been an orphan from her childhood, and has been through many difficulties and infirmities, both of mind and body, always maintained herself respectably—she underwent many hardships as a child, and much rough usage, which I think injured her head—she had to go to service very young, and fell into very rough hands—I saw the case in the paper, and wrote to Mr. Rough, and came here, being strangely interested for her, on account of her friendless situation.
GUILTY—Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
NEW COURT.—Saturday, September 26th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
ALICE JACKSON . I live at 31, Welclose Square—Henry Knowles lodged in the house, and his things were kept in a chest up two pairs of stairs—I saw them safe on the evening of 19th August, at 6 o'clock, and missed them about 8.30—the prisoner lodged in the same house—when I came home that evening, I received information from my servant—I saw the prisoner about 10.30—I showed him this coat (produced), which the servant had found in the shed, and accused him of taking it—I asked him if he knew anything about it—he said "No"—I went up into the front room and found, in a bag, the things I had missed.
Prisoner. What time did you see me? Witness. At a little after nine; you had then been out for about two hours—I did not come in till 11 o'clock.
MART MORGAN . I am servant to the last witness—on 19th August, before she came home, I went into the prisoner's room, the back parlour, to make his bed—his shoes were by the bed side—he came down stairs about ten minutes afterwards without his shoes, and with this coat on his arm, which he took out into the yard and put it into the shed, and then came back into the house and went down stairs—I went to the shed, got the coat out, and showed it to my mistress when she came in.
Prisoner. How long did you leave the coat in the shed? Witness. Ten minutes or a quarter of an hour—when you went out I went and got it.
Prisoner's Defence. I had had charge of the house the best part of the afternoon, and had plenty of opportunity of taking several articles if I wished, but I scorned the idea. I came home at 10.5, and saw Miss Jackson's young man in the house. I went out, got a pint of beer, which we drank between us. I took off my boots and left them at the side of the bed. I went up stairs, and as I came down I met Annie Jackson, with a candle in her hand; if I had had that jacket on my arm, she must haveseen it. The street door was wide open, and the young man went out. I went out for beer, and when I came back Miss Jackson bad that jacket on her lap, sitting at the supper table, and asked me if I knew anything about it. I said "No!" She said "It is very strange; Mary said she saw you coming down stairs" When she got before the inspector she said that I had the jacket on my arm. When I had been in bed twenty minutes, they fetched two policemen, who took me. I am innocent. I do not know who put the clothes in the bag.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution; and MR. PATER the Defence.
MICHAEL NEALAN . I am a labourer, and live at 2, Aston Street—on the night this happened, in April, I went to drink at the Wellington—my two sisters were there, one of whom went with me to her house; her husband was in bed—there was a disturbance, and my sister went up for a light, but could not find the candle—this was about 1 o'clock—Michael Barry, the prisoner's father, said something to my sister—she came down and began to talk—I think she had had a drop too much—I was going home, when Michael Barry caught hold of me—he was very drunk—I did not know what he was doing—we both fell—I got up, and the prisoner came before me and struck at me—I said, "Oh, my God, my eye is knocked out"—that was the first I saw of her—she never spoke a word—she does not live in the house, she lives at Bromley—her father lives at the top of the house where my sister lives, and the prisoner had been drinking there—I have lost the sight of my eye, and it has entirely broken me up; I was a strong man before—I had had a drop of beer, but was as sober as I am now—I am sure the prisoner is the woman.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen her before? A. Yes; I have known her ten or twelve years, but never spoke to her—I had not seen her that night—this happened in a moment—Barry was not near me then—I think he fancied I was my sister's husband, and got hold of me by mistake—there had been a quarrel between my sister and him, but I had not been in the house two minutes—I have never said that Barry did this—my sister gave her husband in custody the same night for hitting her—his name is Hanley—I was once convicted of an assault, five years ago—I drank my share of a pot of beer at the Nag's Head, but not a drop at the Wellington.
JURY. Q. What were you doing when the prisoner struck you with the poker? A. Standing on the kerb-stone, perfectly still—I saw her coming before she struck me.
MARGARET NEALAN . I am the wife of the last witness—he and I went in there, and we had not been in many minutes when Mrs. Hanley came in with a light, and the prisoner's father refused to give her a light—they began to jaw—she came down stairs, and my husband said, "Come on home"—as we got to the door, Michael Barry caught hold of him, and they fell—as soon as he got up, the prisoner went up and struck him—he said,
"My God! my eye is out," and was taken to the hospital—I am sure she is the woman—she had a small thing in her hand, with a small hook at the end, turned at the corner, which was full of blood.
Cross-examined. Q. How many persons were about? A. Seven or eight, or there might be a dozen—it was dark; 1 o'clock in the morning—my husband was sober—he drank his share of two pots of beer at the Wellington—I am sure of that—he was standing on the kerb—the prisoner never spoke a word—there were no words between her and my husband—he never spoke two words to her in his life—Mrs. Hanley, his sister, went up with the candle to light it—she had been with us at the Wellington, but for a very few minutes—I do not know any of the persons who were present when my husband was struck—nobody else has been in custody on this charge—the prisoner was given in custody at Arbour Square, and again when my husband came out of the hospital—I had given evidence against her, and so had Tye, and after that she was discharged—Tye is a man who will do anything for drink.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did he give evidenoe for or against her? A. He went up to give evidence, but he said her husband did it.
SAMUEL REA (Policeman K 454). I heard a cry of "Police!" and saw the prosecutor being led to the hospital—I requested him to take his handkerchief from his eye, and saw that it was cut right through—a person named Tye came to the Police Court—he is not here—the prosecutor was sober, and so was his wife, but she was very much knocked about; her face was swollen.
Cross-examined. Q. Might the injury have been done bya fall, or the sharp edge of the kerb? A. No—the edge of a poker would do it—he was sober.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Eight Months' Imprisonment .
MR. HORRY conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS WILLIAM JONES . I am a fruiterer, of 17, High Street, South Norwood—I had a pony, a cart, and harness, worth 5l., in Great Russel Street, three weeks ago last September—I missed them about 5.30—I afterwards found them in the custody of the police.
RICHARD AUSTIN (Policeman R 49). I saw a horse and cart at Blackheath on Thursday—I showed them to Jones, and he identified them—the prisoner had taken the pony out of the cart, and was offering it for sale—I asked him whether it belonged to him, he said yes, and that he was a costermonger at Whitechapel, and had been down to Maidstone—this was 3.30—I asked him what time he left London, he said "9.30"—I said the time would not allow to do that, what have you been down with?—he said, "A load of herrings"—I said, "To any shop?"—he said no, he had given them to a man over the hill, near Maidstone—I asked him if the cart belonged to him, he said "Yes"—I asked him what name was on it, he said "William Brown"—I looked, and found it William Jones, of 17, High Street, South Norwood—I took the prisoner to the station—he tried to escape on the road—I sent to Mr. Jones.
Prisoner. Q. Was I drunk? A. No.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate was that two young men asked
him to go with them in the cart to Maidstone, to take some herrings, but when they got to Blackheath they requested him to tell the horse and cart, and he was doing so the officer came up.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonement.
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD BROUGHTON . I am a waiter, and live at 25, Finsbury Market—on the night of 20th August, about 11 o'clock, I was walking with Susan Rogers, in Finsbury Avenue—five men rushed upon us, knocked us both down, and broke our watch guards—the prisoner is one of them—he knek✗ on me, and kicked me—some of them took my watch guard; there were some rings on it—3s. were taken from my trowsers pocket—I was very much bruised and kicked, and my hands were cut—I screamed "Murder!" and "Police!" and saw 223G. stop the prisoner, who was never out of my sight.
SUSAN ROGERS . I am servant to a solicitor—I was with Broughton, heard a rush, and was thrown down—a tall man got on me, and I felt his hands in my dress pocket—I said, "You have my watch," and snatched my✗ watch out of his left hand—I saw the prisoner on my friend, who was on th✗ ground, and then I cried "Murder!" "Police!" and saw the prisoner taken—I missed 2s. from my dress pocket—the tall man knocked me, and made my✗ teeth bleed.
CHARLES PAYNE (policeman 223 G.). I heard cries of "Murder!" and "Stop thief!" and saw five men running towards me—I took one of them, and asked him what was the matter down the alley—he said that he did not know, he had got nothing—I said, "You will have to come back with me," took him back, and met Broughton, who gave him into custody.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate: "I was coming through the court, and heard a cry of "Stop thief!" I stopped, and was given into custody; a gentleman was charged by the woman as well, but the constable would not take him, but took me.
Prisoner's Defence. I was remanded for a week and then discharged I was taken again, and got remanded for another week.
GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude, and Twenty Lashes with the Cat.
Upon MR. DALY opening the case THE COURT considered that if proved there would not be sufficient to convict the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HENRY O'BRIEN . I am a tailor, of Crown Street, Soho—about 1 o'clock on Sunday morning, I met the prisoner and a person not in custody within three doors of my house—the prisoner first tried my right trowers
pocket by striking it outside with his hand—he subsequently put his hand in—I tried to resist, but his companion caught me by the throat and choked me—I went over on the pavement and laid there—they walked away as if unconcerned—I followed them to St. Giles's Church, not three yards from them, and held the prisoner till a policeman came up—I had never lost sight of him; he is the man who had it—I was quite sober.
THOMAS GROVES (Policeman R 21). I took the prisoner—O'Brien was holding him—he said that he knew nothing about it—I searched him, and found a half-penny—I saw no other man run in the same direction—O'Brien was sober.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment .
BROAD PLEADED GUILTY to robbery without violence.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution.
DANIEL MASON . I live at 36, Denbigh Street, Pimlico—on 2nd September, I was in Victoria Street, coming towards Westminster Bridge, between 4 and 5 o'clock in the afternoon—I had a silver watch in my pocket, fastened by a chain—when I was at Orchard Street, I happened to look round, and Broad snatched my watch—I was immediately thrown violently on the rough stones, I can't say by who, but by Broad, I believe, which hurt me very much—I informed the police, but have not seen my watch since.
MARY ANN ROURKE . I live with my father, at 5, Swan Yard, Westminster—I saw Mason in Victoria Street—I did not see him knocked down, he had just got up then—I saw the two prisoners running down towards Pye Street, from Victoria Street—I knew them both before I gave information.
Johnson. Q. Did you see any person running in the same street? A. No—I was against you—there were many people in the street—you were as far from Mason as to the lower part of this Court.
WILLIAM BERNARD COATES . I live at 72, Cleveland Street, Pimlico—on 2nd September I was in Victoria Street, and saw Mason reel over on the ground, and two men running away from him three or four yards off—I did not see their faces, but from the prisoners' general appearance they are the men—I could not see a policeman—I called at the police-office next evening, and was asked to go in—the prisoners were placed with others, and I picked them out, and said they were like them.
LYDIA HUTCHINGS . I live with my father and mother, at 26, New Tothill Street—on 2nd September, about 4.50, I was coming out of New Pye Street into Victoria Street, and saw the prisoners—the tallest one went up to the gentleman, put his arm round his chest and his knee in his back, and the gentleman fell—when the shortest one saw that he walked a few steps round Pye Street, the other caught him, and they both ran away together—I did not know them before.
MORGAN MORGANS (Policeman B 277). Orchard Street is close to Victoria Street, it turns into New Pye Street, which oomes into Victoria Street—on 3rd September, I went in search of Johnson—he saw me on Westminster Bridge, knew me, and ran away—I afterwards found him and Broad sitting together in a public-house in Strutton Ground—I took Johnson, and told him the charge—he said, "I know nothing about it"—another constable
came in, and I told him to take Broad—on the way to the station he threw a large stone out of his pocket—I searched him at the station, and found 9s. 4d., and this other stone (produced)—he said that he knew nothing of Broad.
Cross-examined by MR. STARLING. Q. Do you mean that Johnson was not concerned in the robbery? A. I knew him before, and he ran up to see what was the matter—I was not with him before, it was another man named Pattison who was with me, who the constable knows very well.
COURT. Q. What became of Pattison? A. I left him in the public-house—I do not know which way he went when I ran away—he stopped then because the gentleman did not know it was him.
JOHNSON— GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been before convicted at Clerkenwell, to which he PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution; MR. PATER appeared for Johnson, and MR. LILLY for McCann.
HENRY GRAY (Policeman F 53). On 28th August, I was on duty in the Strand, at an hour and a half past midnight, and saw Wright—there was a tipsy man in front of him, staggering—McCann followed sixty or eighty yards off; I followed them—McCann walked up to the gentleman, overtook him, and knocked him into the roadway, at the corner of Buckingham Street, by striking him with his fist—Wright then kicked him, and McCann stooped down on him—I seized Wright, and handed him to another policeman, and then seized McCann—it was so momentary that there was not time to get away—a number of prostitutes came round the gentleman, and he went away—I do not think I should know him again—there had been no row—I searched Wright at the station, and found this purse, with a halfpenny in it—he threw away this dice box in the Strand—I found on McCann, 10s. 71/2d.—the gentleman was on his side, and M Cann stooped down to where his pockets would be.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. At what time did the other constable come up? A. After I seized Wright—McCann seized him, and said, "I will get him away"—I said, "It will not do, Joe"—about twenty persons came up—I cannot say whether there were any males; I was noticing the prisoners too mueh to see—there were men collected around, but I do not know them—I called for assistance, and my brother officer came, it was not a moment—the prisoners were coming from the direction of Temple Bar—this was near the "Old 45" public-house—I have played at skittles with my brother officers at the Opera Stores, but never with Wright—I have not lost money to him—Wright said something to my brother officer about the man having attacked and robbed or assaulted him, and McCann complained of
being assaulted—he had an umbrella—he said at the time that he was assaulted and robbed of his umbrella, but I was too close to him for that.
Cross-examined by MR. LILLY. Q. When you saw the staggering man go down, how far off were you? A. Seven or eight yards—I did not see my brother constable till I called for assistance.
MR. BESLEY. Q. How long have you been in the force? A. Five years all but two months—I have seen Wright at the Opera Stores, and at many places, but have never associated with him, or quarrelled with him—they were both sober—McCann had blood on his mouth; that must have been done in the struggle—no blows were given before the attack—I saw no umbrella with either of them.
JURY. Q. Did you follow them sixty or eighty yards? A. Yes—there was no appearance of quarrelling between them—they were larking so as to attract my notice.
DANIEL HEALEY (Policeman F 39). On the morning of 25th August, I was on duty in Buckingham Street, and heard voices at the top of the street, talking loudly—I went up, and saw Gray holding the prisoners, and several persons round—I saw a person who was intoxicated—Wright said it was merely a row between him and some New Cut lads, at the Cock and Bottle, which is 400 yards off—he said on the way to the station that he knew nothing about it—I did not know what I had got him for.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. There was no drunken man at all? A. I did not see one—there were thirty or forty people.
COURT. Q. Was McCann admitted to bail? A. Yes, in 20l., and he has surrendered.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Saturday, September 26th, 1868.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN SCRIVING . I live at 5, Glover's Hall Court, Beech Street—on Friday, 14th August, between 4 and 5 o'clock, I saw the two prisoners in Aldermanbury—I saw Harris take a purse like this one from the the prosecutrix—she went away—I waited on the spot till I saw a policeman—I told him of it, and he took them into custody.
THOMAS MELLEFONT (City Detective 155). I received information from the last witness, and took the two prisoners—I said to Harris, "One of you has stolen a half-sovereign"—they both said they knew nothing about it—I took them to the station—while they were in the dock, and I was stating the charge, I saw Harris with her hand down by her dress, and I took out of her hand this purse, containing a half-sovereign, a florin, a shilling, and 61/2d.
EMMA RANDALL . I live at 34, Waterloo Street, St. Luke's—I sent my daughter Louisa to the warehouse of Messrs. Paterson & Co.—there was 13s. 6d. owing to me—I work for them—she never brought the money back—this purse is mine—there was a halfpenny in it, which one of my lodgers had given her.
Harris' Defence. We met the little girl, and she said she was dry—we went to get her some ginger beer—she gave the purse to us to open for her—I went to get the ginger beer—my friend came after me and asked if I had got it—I said "No!" and the policeman came after me.
Hogwood's Defence. I say the same.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment each .
MESSRS. POLAND and MACRAE-MOIR conducted the Prosecution; MR. HARRIS defended Wooden and Torrent; and MR. WILLIAMS defended Andrews.
WILLIAM SPIRES . I am a plate layer in the service of the London and South Western Railway Company—I live at Staines—there was a quantity of timber under one of the dry arches there—it was safe on the evening of the 4th September, at 5.30—it was at the Surrey side of the river—next morning, about 6.30, I missed a lot of it—I went to the river and saw Wooden come up the river in a punt—he said, "Are you tracking a rabbit?" and I said, "Little like"—I have seen him in the punt before, down the river—this is part of the timber (produced).
EDWARD SEDGWICK . I am in the service of Matthew Nickson—he does heavy work for buildings—on Saturday evening, 5th September, Torrent came to me about 5.40—he said, "Mat said you are to put your horse's clothes on, and go and take some timber to the buildings of Mr. Andrews—I put the horse to, and he went with me in the cart—we went to Fish House Point, that is on the Middlesex side of the Thames, about a mile from Staines Bridge, and about a mile from Mr. Andrews' buildings—the timber was about twelve yards from the river, and a punt laid at the river side—Torrent said "This is the timber"—I turned the horse round, and we began to load the timber—as we were doing so Wooden walked up, and he helped to load as well—I asked Torrent where I was take it to, and he said, "To Mr. Andrews' buildings," and I took it there—they are some cottages about a mile from the river—when we got there we unloaded the timber—Mr. Andrews came up, and said "Good morning" to the other men—the timber was put on the ground—there was about as much as a horse could draw.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. It was a very foggy morning, was it not? A. Yes—I have worked for Mr. Nickson about three or four months—I did hedging and ditching before that for Mr. Fowler—I get drunk many a time—the first offence I was convicted for was stealing apples, about thirty years ago—I had to pay 10s., or a fortnight—I paid the money—I don't think I was ever put in prison for stealing—I have been in trouble very often for getting drunk and assaulting the police—I will say about a dozen times—the longest term I have had was two months; that was for knocking the police about—I have been in prison twice for stealing apples—once I paid the money, and once afterwards—every time since that was for assaulting the police.
JOHN HAGREAVES . I am inspector of the permanent way at Staines—I heard that some wood was missing, and I went to look after it—I went to Layland Road, where Mr. Andrews was building some cottages—I saw a portion of the wood there belonging to the London and South Western
Railway Company—some of it had been used for concrete walls—Andrews was not there when we first went, but he came afterwards—I told him the wood belonged to the railway company—he said, "I don't know who it belongs to; I have bought it, but I have not paid for it"—he did not say who he had bought it of.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. There was no concealment of the wood? A. No; it was in an open place—I had received authority from the company, and I gave Andrews into custody.
JOHN PHILLIPS (Policeman T 53). On Saturday afternoon, the 5th September, I saw Mr. Andrews at these cottages—I pointed out a quantity of wood to him, and asked him how he accounted for the possession of it—he said, "I bought it for building purposes, and I have not paid for it—he showed me what he was using it for—the last witness identified it as the property of the railway company—I said if he could not account for it he must be taken into custody, and he said he bought it from Torrent and Wooden—I took him into custody.
ROBERT ALLISON (Policeman T 16). I was at the station on the 15th September, when Andrews was brought there by the last witness—he was charged with having the wood on his premises, and not been able to account for it—he said he had it from Wooden and Torrent, that he had not paid for it, but he would give a fair price for it—I found Torrent in the Blue Anchor public-house, at Staines—I told him he was charged with stealing a quantity of wood, the property of the London and South Western Railway Company—he said he knew nothing about it, and wanted to know what wood I was speaking about—I afterwards apprehended Wooden in his own house; he said he knew nothing about it.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. They both denied knowing anything about it? A. Yes.
THE COURT considered there was no case against ANDREWS.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. HARRIS called the following Witnesses for the Defence.
GEORGE BODLEY . I am foreman to Mr. Andrews—on Friday, the 4th September, this timber was brought to our premises at 10 o'clock—some more came on the Saturday—I can't say exactly how much, I should think about 100 feet—I did not take notice of the material—I did not use it myself.
Cross-examined by MR. POLAND. Q. Did you see the cart there unloading? A. I did—I was not there when it first came—I knew it was there.
ROBERT BODLEY . I am the son of the last witness—I work for Mr. Andrews—I unloaded the timber when it came on the Friday—the prisoners brought it—there was a cart load—nothing was said as to where it came from.
JOEL PETER ANDREWS . I am a builder, at Staines—on Friday, the 4th September, I remember Torrent and Wooden bringing some wood to my place—I was not there when it arrived—I saw them on the Wednesday—they did not say anything about finding it in the Thames.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LEIGH conducted the Prosecution.
MAUDE HUNT . I am a milliner, residing at 104, Regent Street, in the employment of Mr. John Baker—on Sunday morning, 9th August, about 1 o'clock, I was awake—I went into the front room, and missed something, and I went down stairs—I missed a bag from the lobby—I went into the sitting room, and presently the door opened, a man came in at the street door, and went up stairs—he noticed that the door was closed—I threw the door open, and ran after him, and caught him at the street door—of course he got away from me—I called "Stop thief!"—a young man was passing, and saw him come out of the house, ran after him, and caught him—I believe the prisoner to be the man—the lobby was not dark.
THOMAS GEORGE SICKLAND . I am a brushmaker, at 76, Mount Street—on Sunday morning, 9th August, about 1.15, I was passing the prosecutor's house—I saw the door open, and a man come out—I heard Miss Hunt call "Stop thief!"—I ran after the man—I pursued him as far as Golden Court, where he went into a house, and I lost him—a constable came up and went into the house with me, and found the prisoner in bed—I identified him when he was dressed—I did not see his face, but I knew him by his bow legs, and his running.
RICHARD BALDWIN . I live at 4, Golden Place—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I heard a person run up the court—I looked put of the window, and saw him go into No. 3—he undid the door and ran up stairs—I heard a noise like his boots being thrown on the floor.
Prisoner. Are you sure the noise did not come from someone else? Witness. There was no one about—I knew where the sound came from—you went up in a great hurry.
JOHN BAKER . I am a hatter, at Regent Street—my door was left on the latch, anyone could enter if they had a key—I missed a travelling bag—I have not seen it since—my house had been entered three or four times previously—I have lost several pairs of boots—these boots (produced) are mine—they were stolen three weeks before.
NORRISH PIKE (Policeman C 51). On Sunday morning, in consequence of what I was told, I went to 3, Golden Place—I went into the prisoner's room, and ordered him to dress—Miss Hunt identified him, and the other witnesses as well—I did not find any bag—I found this pair of boots on his feet on the Monday.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. METCALFE and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
FREDERICK HALE . I reside at Braintree, in Essex, and am a solicitor's clerk—I bought this red ticket (produced) some time in June—on 15th June I put it in a letter to Mr. Farrah, and posted it between 12 and 1 o'clock—it was a winning number, 2277, and I was entitled to 3l. or 4l. by it, so I sent the ticket for the money, in a letter—this letter (produced) is not my writing—a different amount is mentioned, but the request is similar to mine.
Cross-examined. Q. What is on the ticket? A. "Lucky bag, No. 2277,
on the Ascot Stakes. June 9, 1868. 10, 000 Subscribers at 1s. each.—First horse, 100l.; 2nd horse, 50l.; 3rd horse, 25l."—I have purchased some before—I send to London for them—I was entitled to 3l. 13s.
MR. METCALFE. Q. Did you authorize anyone to go up for the money? A. Certainly not.
THOMAS ONION . I live at Wolverhampton—this yellow ticket (produced) No. 2232 is mine—on 21st July, I posted it in a lotter, to Mr. Farrah—there was no writing on the ticket when I put it in the letter—I was entitled to 10s., and I sent to ask Mr. Farrah to send me other tickets for the money—I posted the letter myself—I never authorized anyone to go with that ticket to Mr. Farrah's.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. I was managing a shop at that time—I have been discharged since—I have bought tickets before, occasionally; I send to Mr. Farrah for them—it was not signed when I sent it—the signature is not necessary.
MR. METCALFE. Q. That is not your writing on it? A. No—there was no writing at all—I only pay a shilling for the tickets, and take my chance.
EDWARD CLAYTON . I live at Sheffield—I have seen this yellow ticket (produced) before—the number is 4946—I posted it myself to Mr. Farrah—when I sent it, there was no writing on it—I was entitled to 54s.—I authorized no one to go to Mr. Farrah and get the money, or to write anything on it—it was for the Liverpool Cup—I sent a letter with the ticket—I did not mention the name of the horse in the letter—the writing on the ticket now is "G. O., 40, Aldersgate Street, City," and also "Bandmaster, Liverpool Cup"—I did not write the letter, a shopmate wrote it forme.
Cross-examined. Q. Where did you buy the ticket? A. Of Mr. Rowbotham, at Sheffield, for 1s.—I have bought tickets before, and know several men that buy them.
HENRY ROWBOTHAM . I live at 34, Pond Street, Sheffield, and am agent to Mr. Farrah for the "Lucky Bag"—I take a number of tickets from him—I took 100 tickets, from No. 4901 to 5000—I sold this ticket to Mr. Clayton—they have to go to Mr. Farrah for the money after the races.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you speculate in the "Lucky Bag?" A. Sometimes—I have five per cent allowed on what I sell—I have been an agent about two years—the names of the winners are published in the next number of the "Sporting Times."
FREDERICK FARRAH . I am a publisher, at 282, Strand—I am the publisher of the "Sporting Times," and also proprietor of the "Lucky Bag"—I sell tickets at 1s. each—the person who holds the winning horse presents his ticket, and gets the money—I receive a great number of letters from time to time—previous to 17th June, I had issued, amongst others, this ticket for the Ascot Stakes—that entitled the holder, on the 17th, to receive 3l. 13s.—I did not receive this letter with the ticket by post at all—a boy brought the ticket with this letter—it was in an envelope; that has been lost—I gave the boy 3l. 13s.—the letter requested me to give the bearer five tickets, and I gave him 3l. 8s. and five shilling tickets—I have not seen the boy since—previous to the 22nd July, I issued tickets for the Liverpool Cup—these are two of the tickets—I did not receive them by post from Mr. Onion or Mr. Clayton—on the 22nd July, about 6.30 in the evening, the prisoner brought these two tickets, and asked for the money—he gave them into my hand, and as several letters had teen stolen, I had got familiar with the
handwriting on the tickets, and said, "Are these your tickets?"—he said "No, they belong to two friends of mine"—I looked at my book, and said "There is an error in these numbers; do these friends live here?" and pointed to the address—he said, "Yes"—I said, "If you will give me your name and address, and call to-morrow, I will tell you what is the matter"—I gave him a pen, and he wrote the name and address that is on this paper, "Joseph Smith, Fetter Lane"—he never called again from that day to this—no one applied for the money on these yellow tickets till I communicated with Mr. Onion and Clayton—the prisoner used to come almost daily for four or five years, to purchase publications—he keeps a shop in Greystoke Place, Fetter Lane—these two tickets entitled Mr. Onion to 10s., and Mr. Clayton to 54s.—I know the prisoner's writing—I believe this letter, purporting to come from Mr. Hall, to be in his writing, and also the writing on the two tickets—I saw the prisoner write his address—I communicated with the Post Office and the police.
Cross-examined. Q. What is the "Lucky Bag?" A. It is a speculation, a lottery—there is generally a race about once a fortnight—we issue about 5000 tickets a week—I have agents in the country—I have known the prisoner fourteen years—he keeps a news-shop at a place leading out of Fetter Lane—I publish the names of the lucky gentlemen who dip into the "Lucky Bag"—sometimes the names and addresses are incorrect—we publish the names that are given to us—I have never had complaints made about it—I have seen the prisoner write a good many times, and am quite familiar with his writing.
JOHN SHORE .(City Detective Sergeant). On Saturday, the 8th August, I went to 3, Greystoke Place, Fetter Lane, and saw the prisoner—he keeps a news-shop there—his shop is about fifty yards up the court—I told the prisoner I was a police-officer, and wanted to speak to him in the presence of Mr. Farrah—Mr. Farrah came in at that moment by arrangement—I said, "This is Mr. Farrah"—he said, "Yes, I know him"—I said, "This gentleman says that about three weeks since you brought to his shop some tickets, and asked for payment—he said, "Yes, I did"—I said, "Where did you get the tickets from?"—he said, "I got them from a man in the Strand, from whom I bought a dozen handicap books; I wanted the books for my customers; he asked me if I would take them to Mr. Farrah, and get the money; I took them to Mr. Farrah, and he told me to call again, there was something wrong. I went back and told the man what Mr. Farrah had said; I met him about two days after in the City, and have not seen him since"—I asked him if that was all he knew about it, and he said, "Yes"—I then asked him if he wrote the names on the tickets—he said, "The man asked me if I could write; he told me what to write, and I did so"—I then took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Q. He answered all your questions? A. Everything—I did not ask him anything about the name of Welsford—he said, "He asked me if I could write, and told me what to write, and I did so."
CHARLES CHABOT . I am an expert in handwriting, and have practised in that way for many years—the addresses on the two yellow tickets, the address written by the prisoner, and the letter from Mr. Hall, are undoubtedly written by the same person—all the documents are written with a small "f," and wherever that letter is used, a cross is wanted—the "a's" are made in a peculiar way—the dot to the "i" is a dash, and in one instance runs
into the letter itself—in my judgment they are clearly written by the same person.
Cross-examined. Q. Why? A. I can give abundance of reasons—the ticket signed "Howard" and the one signed "Welsford," are undoubtedly in the same writing—I have very rarely known anyone to decide against me—my opinion has been opposed to Mr. Netherclift's, but my opinion prevailed—we have very rarely differed, we have disagreed once or twice—I have not seen the prisoner write.
FREDERICK GEORGE NETHERCLIFT . I have been an expert in handwriting for twenty-five years—I assisted my father before, who had a long experience in these matters—I entirely agree with Mr. Chabot that that letter, purporting to come from Mr. Hale, came from the same person who wrote the others.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you and Mr. Chabot disagreed? A. Twice in our lives—we did not disagree at Bow Street—Mr. Chabot declined to give a decided opinion, and I gave one—my father and I disagreed once—I give my independent opinion—I was not called at the Police Court.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOSIAH HOLLAND . I am a confectioner, of Southampton Row—on Wednesday, 22nd July, I went to the prisoner's shop, in Greystoke Place, to get some periodicals; while I was there, a man came in and said, "Smith, have you the money for those ticket?"—Smith said, "No, there is some mistake"—he said, "Have you got the tickets?"—Smith said, "No, I have to call in the morning," and the man said, "Never mind, I will call myself; you ought to have brought them back"—I have not seen the man since, and I do not think I should know him.
Cross-examined. Q. When was this? A. On 22nd July—I was waiting while he looked my papers out—there is a back parlour there—the man did not go in there—he seemed to know the prisoner very well—I did not know him, I never saw him at the prisoner's place before—I knew the prisoner was in custody the day after—I have been to the Police Court three times—I did not give evidence—I never said anything to the police about this.
ALEXANDER RAY . I am an expert and fac-similist of handwriting—I see the address, "Joseph Smith, Fetter Lane," which was written by the prisoner—the ticket with "Welsford" on it, is in his writing—the other ticket is not in his writing; I cannot trace it at all—this letter from Hale, is not in his writing either—this is the first time I have seen it.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you ever given evidence before? A. No, except at Bow Street—I have given my opinion privately before—I served my apprenticeship in Glasgow, with Messrs. McClure and McDonald, lithographers—I said at the Police Court that the yellow ticket, with "Howard" on it, was not in the prisoner's writing, and to the best of my belief it is not.
GEORGE LAWRENCE LEA . I am a lithographer and fac-similist—I have acted as an expert in handwriting—the person who wrote this signature, "Joseph Smith," would not be capable of writing the letter from Mr. Hale
—the signature of "Howard," and that of "Smith," were never written by the same persons.
Cross-examined. Q. Is there not a likeness in the "f"? A. Not that I could swear it was the same—there is a similarity in the dots of the "is"—but I do not see it in the letters generally—I have done work for Mr. Netherclift—I have never given evidence in a Court of Justice before—I have had forty-five years' experience in writing.
JOSEPH SMITH . I live at 329, Gray's Inn Road, and am a news-agent, the prisoner is my son—I have seen him write hundreds of times—this signature and address are in his writing—it is impossible he could have written the letter from Mr. Hale—the ticket with "Howard" on it, is not in his writing, but the one with "Welsford," is his—I was called before the Magistrate—I am positive he never wrote that letter—I know Mr. Farrah, and have known him fourteen or fifteen years; he knows me well, and my son as well.
Cross-examined. Q. How long has your son carried on business in Greystoke Place? A. Five years—he has an uncle named Wilsford—I never had a quarrel with my son, and never complained of his having robbed me.
The prisoner received a good character.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another Indictment against the prisoner, which was postponed.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STARLING the Defence.
HARRIETTE WATERMAN . I am the mother of the last witness—I had just left his house on 12th June, about 7 o'clock in the evening, and saw the prisoner and Powell pass the house where I live, leading a black and a grey horse; the black one belonged to my son—I ran and said to the prisoner, "What are you going to do with that horse?"—he said, "What has that to do with you?"—I said, "More to do with me than with you; I defy you to go another step, it belongs to my son; though you have disfigured it, by cutting a foot off its tail, I recognize it"—I spoke to a policeman, and if he had been quick he would have caught the prisoner, but he got on the horse and rode away.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know him before? A. I thought I had seen him before—I saw him two months afterwards along with a policeman.
WILLIAM POWELL . I live at 44, William Street, Chiswick—I was convicted at the Chelmsford Sessions, on 2nd July, of stealing a horse, and was sentenced to two months' imprisonment—on 12th June, the prisoner asked me to go to Smithfield with him—he paid my expenses, and took me on the flats, and told me to sit down and mind a grey mare—I sat there two hours—I was in his company that evening when Mrs. Waterman spoke to him—he had a grey mare and a horse, I was leading both—after the old lady spoke to him he got on the grey mare and rode away—what I now state on oath, I stated voluntarily to the constable.
Cross-examined. Q. You took the horse away originally? A. No, they brought it to me—I did not go up to Mr. Waterman's pony and lead it from the place where it was grazing; but I was convicted of stealing it.
JOHN TURNER (Policeman N 42). I am stationed at Walthamstow—I took the prisoner on 18th August—he said that he bought the horse of a man named Smith, who lived on the forest, but he did not know what part, and be and Powell went to Chelmsford, and a man named North rode the grey horse from Chiswick—Edward Keating was examined before the Magistrate—he is not here—he was a very unwilling witness throughout—I last saw him when he recieved his recognizance paper.
He was further charged with having been convicted at Brentford, in 1866, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.*†— Seven years' penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
JANE EMMERSON . I am the wife of Charles Emmerson, of Henry Street, Woolwich—the prisoner lodged with us two weeks and three days, from 19th August—I missed this blanket, value 10s. (produced) and a great many other things.
GUILTY .**— Eight Months' Imprisonment .
MR. MENDEZ conducted the Prosecution.
MICHAEL MARTIN . I am 84 years old, and am a pipe manufacturer, at 14, Warner's Lane, Woolwich—my factory is on the other side of my dwelling house—I left it securely fastened on the night of 2nd September, about 8 o'clock—my wife is paralyzed—about 9 o'clock my niece told me something—I opened the door, and found two pairs of long moulds on the floor—I searched the premises and garden, but could find nobody—I went to the police-station, and when I returned they had taken the two pairs of moulds away—they were worth 4l.—I have employed the prisoner at times, and his father before him—the shop door was broken open at 9 o'clock.
WILLIAM MARSHALL . I am a labourer, of 86, High Street, Woolwich—on 2nd September I was on my door step, and saw the prisoner, about 9.20, at the corner of Meeting House Lane, which is the back way to Mr. Martin's premises, about thirty-five yards from the shop—he was either asleep or shamming—I shook him, and said, "Wake up, old fellow, do not go to deep, get up and look at the pretty fireworks"—he got up, but I did not see where he went to—he did not appear drunk.
speak to him, and it was the prisoner; he told me to mind my own business, and go and look after myself—five minutes afterwards I saw him coming down the lane, and he nearly threw me down—I thought he had a white apron on, but it was his shirt hanging out, his trousers were torn from the back—he ran right up the town.
HENRY CUMBER . I am a coal porter, of 6, Meeting House Lane—on 2nd September I was sitting at my door, smoking a pipe, and saw the prisoner come away from Mr. Martin's premises, at 9.30, with something in his hand like water taps—he had a billycock hat on.
SAMUEL LING (Policeman R 159). On 8th September I met the prisoner in London Street, Greenwich, and said, "Smith, I want you for stealing four pipe moulds at Woolwich last Wednesday night"—he said, "Me, I have not been to Woolwich for months"—I said, "You will have to go to the station"—he said, "I will make old Martin b——y well pay for this"—I had not mentioned Martin's name, and did not know it then, nor had I mentioned the premises—he had on a round felt hat—his trousers had been torn on the right seat, but were mended.
Prisoner. How I came to mention Martin's name was, that someone came and told my mother a party had been asking for me, from Woolwich, of the name of Martin. Witness. I went to Eliza Pater, who lives next door, and asked for Smith—she said, "It is next door, what do you want him for?" I said, "For stealing some moulds."
Prisoner's Defence. My sister knows I was at home.
EMMA SAYERS . I am married—I am the prisoner's sister—I went home to do for my mother on that Wednesday evening, as she was an invalid—the prisoner was under the window at 8.30, talking to his mother, and he was in by 10—how he came to mention the name of Martin was because he worked for nobody else in Woolwich-—when I told him of it, he said, "I am not going to run away, I am innocent; and if I see the detective I will speak to him—he lives at 16, Church Row—it would take three-quarters of an hour to walk very fast from there to Mr. Martin's—he was at home and in bed by 10 o'clock—I let him in; it struck 10 just as I opened the door—he went up stairs, and I bolted the door—I knew of his being taken in custody—I did not go before the Magistrate till too late, and the case was over.
JURY. Q. Is Church Row by Greenwich Parish Church. A. Yes.
Cross-examined by MR. MENDEZ. Q. What day was it your brother went to bed at 10 o'clock? A. Wednesday evening—I slept there other evenings that week—this was called to my attention on the Monday or Tuesday after—I know this was Wednesday, because my sister was taken very ill and confined on Wednesday, and I said, "One trouble never comes alone."
COURT. Q. What Wednesday was your sister taken ill? A. I do not know the day of the month, but I know it was the Wednesday this was done—it was not Tuesday—I was with my mother on Tuesday and on Thursday, but not on Friday; I was out at work then—I remarked how early my brother was in on Wednesday—my sister was taken bad that morning, and I went to nurse her, and got back to my mother's at 4 o'clock.
COURT to HENRY CUMBER. Q. Had you known the prisoner before? A. No; I had never seen him before—I saw him again the night he was taken—he is the person.
GUILTY .**— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
848. CHARLES HATCH (36), and ERNEST NEWTON (24), PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of George Cooper, with intent to steal therein, having both been previously convicted— TwoYears' Imprisonment each .
850. ANN FITCHES (24) , to stealing one ring, one brooch, and other goods, of Susanna Battinson, and one cloak, three shirts, and other goods, of James Williamson, having been before convicted, in November, 1867— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. And [Guilty: see original trial image.]
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
CAROLINE KEARNEY . I am the wife of David Kearney, a police-constable, and live at Chesham Place, Woolwich—the prisoner was a lodger in my house—on 20th August I went to the funeral of his child—when we came back I said I would get tea, and we would all sit down together—he said no more, and slammed out of the room—his conduct was very violent, and he was very drunk indeed—I had placed a coat on a chair in the parlour, and in the pocket there was a purse containing 11s. 10d.—I went out, and someone threw a brick at the prisoner, which struck my little girl on the head—when I came back, I found the prisoner in my room, quarrelling with another man—the prisoner had a knife in his hand, and it struck my boy on the temple—I went out to get the wound dressed—when I returned to the room I searched the coat and missed the purse—I had seen it safe about a quarter of an hour before—I gave information to a constable—the prisoner was taken, and I charged him with stealing the purse—he said, "Search me"—he seemed to understand the nature of the charge.
Prisoner. Did you see me drunk at the time we went to the funeral? Witness. No—you asked me to pay for a pot of beer—you handed me 6d. for it—I did not see you take any more beer—I said I would lock you up for calling me names—I never missed anything since you have been with me.
ANN WRIGHT . I am the wife of William Wright, a gardener, at Chesham Place, Woolwich—I heard a disturbance, and went to the door—I saw the prisoner take the coat from the chair, and take something out of the pocket—I thought at the time it was a knife—he threw the coat down on the chair again—he upset all the things, and smashed the crockery on the floor, and then went out and closed the door—it was a rough coat—I saw the steel ends, and it appeared to me like a knife—the purse has steel about it.
Prisoner. Did you see me take the purse? Witness. No—you dropped
something behind the door, and when you came to the door the purse was in your hand—I saw a man come and beat you in the room—I saw a female throw a stone at you.
JOHN HOSKINS . I am a labourer, of Woolwich—on 21st August, I was in Chesham Street, and saw the prisoner come out of the prosecutor's house—he had a black purse in his hand, with a steel border—I went after him, and took him in the Navy Arms—he was drinking beer.
Prisoner. Did you see me drop anything? Witness. No—you said you were going to the police-station, and I said it was the best place you could go to.
THOMAS MORGAN (Woolwich Dockyard Policeman 27). I took the prisoner—I told him the charge—he said nothing—he was drunk, but knew what he was about—I searched him, and found three half-crowns, two shillings, two sixpences, 71/2d. in coppers, and a knife.
Prisoner. Was I knocked about a good deal? Witness. Yes, your face was all over blood.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I can account for the money I had in my possession."
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury.— Three Months' Imprisonment .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY ROFFEY . I am a costermonger, and live at 13, Collier Street, Deptford—the prisoner worked for me about six weeks previous to September—I had some conversation with him about purchasing a pony and harness—I told him if he could see one that would suit, I would buy it—on 24th August I accompanied him to Mr. Aldridge's, a horse dealer, at Greenwich, and he bargained with Mr. Aldridge, on my behalf, for a pony, and harness, and whip, the sum to be paid was 46s.—I paid 2l., and Mr. Aldridge, knowing the prisoner, gave him credit for the 6s.—I did not receive a receipt—on 31st August I had some words with the prisoner, and told him I could dispense with his services—at that time the pony, and harness, and whip were in my possession—on 2nd September, about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, I missed the pony—I had seen it safe at 5 o'clock in the morning—I had locked the stable, and it must have been opened by another key—I went in search of the prisoner, but could not find him that evening—I met him on the 3rd—I asked him where the pony was—he said it was at Mr. Aldridge's, grazing—I went there, but could not find it—I said to the prisoner, "If the pony is not in the stable by 12 o'clock, I shall advertise it, and give you in charge"—he said, "Do you think there is anything up?"—I said, "I don't know, but it looks greatly like it"—I gave him into custody next day, for stealing the pony, and harness, and whip.
Prisoner. When I bought the pony, did not you say we were working in partnership? Witness. No; we were working for share of profits—you told me you had a customer who would give 4l. for the pony, but I never gave you leave to do it—you never concealed that you had taken it, in any way.
MR. PATER. Q. Did the prisoner pay the 6s. balance? A. Yes—I never authorized him to do that.
prisoner and Roffey calling on me to know if I had a horse to sell—the prisoner came on two occasions—he told me he was the partner of Mr. Roffey—he called once with Mr. Roffey—they took the pony to try him, and then came back—I agreed to sell the pony and harness for 2l. 6s.—I gave them the whip and the nose bag—Mr. Roffey paid the 2l., and the prisoner afterwards paid me the 6s.
THE COURT considered that there was no case for the Jury, at the prisoner dearly considered himself a partner.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Justice Keating.
MR. COLLINS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.
WALTER MILLS . I am a waiter at the Bricklayers' Arms, Trafalgar Road, Greenwich—the prisoner is a police-constable stationed there—the deceased, Henry Pogmore, was in the habit of frequenting our house, and lately drank considerably—on Wednesday, 2nd September, he left the house, alone, a little after 12 o'clock—he had been there about two hours—he was then sober—a few minutes after, I went out and saw the prisoner there in uniform, on duty—Pogmore was next door, about four yards off—I heard him say to the constable, "What the hell is it to do with you how I get my living?"—the prisoner made no reply—Pogmore made use of very bad expressions, called him a "B——old thing," and said he was only creeping about for a pension; and he said, "I have fought for my country, and I have medals to prove it"—the prisoner said, "You fought; go on!" and deliberately seized the man by the front of the breast, and pushed him from him—it was done very quickly—it was a very hard push indeed—the man fell backwards on the pavement, on his head and shoulders, and his heels came down after—I went and lifted him up, and told the prisoner he ought to be ashamed of himself to knock a man down in that way—he said, "Why did he insult me?"—I said, "You ought to have locked him up if he insulted you"—he said, "I will lock him up now"—I then had the man on my knee—he never spoke—he put his hand to the back of his head—the prisoner took him out of my hands—he could not walk, or rather, his feet dragged along the ground about twenty-five yards—he staggered, and dragged the best way he could—as the prisoner was dragging him along, Tester came up, and said, "You don't want to lock him up"—the prisoner said, "No, I don't"—I and the witness Shaw then took him from the prisoner—the prisoner said to him, "Are you satisfied with what I have done to you; if not, I will take you to the station; or are you satisfied with what you have had off of me?"—the deceased said he had had enough about his head, and he put his hand to the back of his head—I and Shaw led him part of the way home—I left him in Shaw's hands, and went home—the deceased was not trying to strike the constable at the time he was pushed—I am certain of that—it was done deliberately, and very quickly.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you known Pogmore for some time? A. I have been at the Bricklayers' Arms about eight months, and knew him that time—he struck me one night when he was intoxicated, some weeks before this.
CHARLES SHAW . I am a hairdresser, and live at Mary Ann Place, East Greenwich—on the night of 2nd September, a few minutes past 12 o'clock, I was passing near the Bricklayers' Arms, and heard the deceased say to the
prisoner, "What do you mean by asking me what I do for my living? you are what I call a b——thing; you are no man, and no policeman"—the prisoner said, "I don't know how it is, Harry, but you seem to have an ill feeling towards me"—the deceased took no notice of that, but went on saying, "I will let you know; I have fought for my country, and have medals to prove it"—with that the constable seemed to become excited, and seized him, and threw him to the ground with violence, his head striking on the pavement, and made the remark, "You fought for your country; go on, now!"—he seemed to catch him by the shoulder—I could not say for certain how he seized him—he threw him from him with force—the man's head and shoulders touched the ground first, and his heels struck the ground afterwards, like two hammers, one after the other, and I heard a dull sound, as of a man's head striking the ground—the deceased never made any attempt to strike the prisoner—when I heard the sound I said, "If that is the man's head, he is a dead man, as sure as fate"—Mills went towards him and raised him, and told the prisoner he ought to be ashamed of himself to push the man down in the way he did—the prisoner said, "I shall lock him up now, for interfering with me in my duty," and he then took him about fifteen yards, or further—he took him by the shoulders, and dragged him along—the deceased was very weak and trembling, almost in a state of palsy, and his head dropped down from the pain from the blow—he was partly walking and partly dragged, like a person would in illness—I said to the prisoner, "Whether you lock him up or no, if this man dies during the night, you will have to be answerable for it"—Tester implored the constable to let him go, saying, "You have done quite sufficient, without locking the poor fellow up"—the prisoner said, "I did not strike him"—he said, "No, but you pushed him with force," or words to that effect—the prisoner said to the deceased, "Harry, are you satisfied with what I have done this night?"—he said, "You have done enough for my poor head"—I then took charge of him, and took him towards his home—I gave him up to a man of the name of Windle to take him home—Windle is a man in very good circumstance, connected with the telegraph works—I hear he has gone to Newfoundland—at that time, the man could walk a little—he kept putting his hand to the back of his head—I had known him about four years—he had been drinking lately.
Cross-examined. Q. When the prisoner pushed him, did he say "Go home?" A. "Go on"—he only said it once—Pogmore had been drinking—he walked about 300 yards with me—I took hold of his left arm, placing my arm through his, and he walked by my side—I left him about 300 yards from his home, with Windle—not finding his head bleeding, I did not think the matter was so serious as it turned out, and Windle took him the remaining part of the way—I did not know that he had had delirium tremens—he was stated to be thirty-three years of age—I should have thought him more—he was a light built man, about five feet seven and a half or five feet eight, and a little over nine stone.
WILLIAM EBENEZER TESTER . I am a boat-builder, at 5, Crane Street, East Greenwich—I was at the Bricklayer's Arms on 2nd September—I came out a little before 12 o'clock—I saw the prisoner and Pogmore—I heard pogmore say that he was a b——thing, and no man—the prisoner told him several times to go on; he then gave him a push, and he fell flat on his back, and the back of his head went to the ground—Mills and the prisoner picked him up, and the prisoner said he would lock him up—I asked him not to do so,
and he said to him, "Will you go home if I let you go?"—he said "Yes!"—the prisoner said, "Have you got any complaint to make against me, before you go?"—he said "No!" and he let him go—he was taken away by his two friends.
Cross-examined. Q. What kind of push was it? A. He went up to him and gave him a push, as if to make him go on; I can't say whether it was with one hand or two, it was nothing violent—I did not see anything wrong; the prisoner seemed quite quiet, not at all angry or irritated—I heard him say, "I don't know what it is, Harry, you seem to have an old grudge against me;" that was as he was going away, after he fell down—I did not think the man was hurt—the prisoner held him by one arm, and the other man by the other, and he walked along, but staggering, as if he was tipsy or stunned—I saw no violence in the prisoner's conduct.
JOHN TURVEY . I am a boat-builder, and live at 10, Lower Chester Place, East Greenwich—I was at the Bricklayer's Arms, and saw the prisoner and deceased having an altercation, and just as I got to the door, I saw the prisoner, with his hands up, saying to the deceased, either "Get on," or "Go on," and he fell backwards—he was picked up by the prisoner and Mills, I believe.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner seem at all angry or savage when he pained him? A. Not at all; I have seen the same thing done hundreds of times; I saw nothing of an irritable disposition in what he did—I was standing about eight yards off.
ELIZABETH POGMORE . I live at 10, Conduit Terrace, Green Lane, Greenwich, and am the widow of the deceased, Henry Pogmore—on 2nd September, my husband was brought home about midnight—he complained of his head, and he said he had been cruelly used, and had got his death blow—I bathed his head, and did what I could—about 4 o'clock in the morning I went to fetch Dr. Ryder, but before he came he was dead—he was thirty-three years of age—he took a little drink, but he had not taken any for a fortnight before this—he was quite sober when he came home; but after asking me to bathe his head, he could not speak another word—he had been in the 1st Dragoons, but was doing nothing at that time—he had no pension—I had had some money left me lately.
FRANCIS JAMES RYDER . I am a surgeon, at Greenwich—I knew the deceased and have attended him—I was called to him, between 4 and 5 o'clock, on the morning of September 2nd—he was dead when I got there—I live about five minutes' walk from his house—I made a post-mortem examination next day, by order of the Coroner—there were no external marks of violence—there was a contusion inside the scalp, on the right side, and there was a certain amount of effusion between the scalp and skull—the bones on the right side of the head appeared to be dislocated, and there were two fractures—on removing the skull cap there was a large clot of blood between the skull and the dura mater, pressing on the brain, and on reflecting the dura mater there was another large clot of blood underneath, in the same position; the brain itself was healthy—the cause of death was compression of the brain, caused by the clot of blood; that was evidently occasioned by external violence—I have heard the evidence—if a man was knocked violently backwards, and his head came in contact with the pavement, it would have caused what I saw—he had been drinking—he was in the first state of delirium tremens—there must have been considerable violence to produce the appearances I saw—it is sometimes the case that there is no external mark,
this was recent; there was no time for the appearances to show themselves, death taking place so soon.
Cross-examined. Q. Would not the appearances be more likely to be from the fall of a drunken man? A. A fall such as a drunken man would have, might cause the appearances—I had been attending him before for incipient delirium, caused by drink—I think a man might walk six hundred yards after receiving such an injury—there are cases on record: they are very rare—a more recent injury from a fall would appear to be more likely.
MRS. POGMORE (re-examined). I did not see anyone come home with my husband, because I did not go to the door, but I heard him say, "Good night, old boy; I may see you to-morrow, or I may not."
The Prisoner received an excellent character.— GUILTY .—Strongly recommended to mercy.— One Week's Imprisonment .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
855. THOMAS OSBORNE (30) , PLEADED GUILTY to a robbery, with violence, on James Pittard, and stealing a knife and 1l. 13s.; also to having been before convicted, on 9th April, 1866.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LANGFORD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. GRIFITHS
WILLIAM CARR . I live at 3, Prospect Place, Rotherhithe, and am a hairdresser—on 19th August, about ten minutes before midnight, I met Wheatley in Hen and Chicken Lane—I knew him before, by sight only—I went with him to the Bedford Arms, and had part of a pint of beer—we then went to the Castle and had a pint of porter, then to the King's Arms, I believe, where we had some more porter; previous to going into the third public-house, I said, "I wish I could get a lodging"—he said, "You can come and sleep with me"—I said, "No, I shall sleep by myself"—he said, "There is a coffee-shop here;" we found it closed, and I said, "I will give you a pint more beer for your trouble"—when we came out of the King's Arms, I was going to my own home, we walked and talked, and I said, "Now I will bid you good night," and made an attempt to cross the road; I got a
few yards across, when he pounced on my back, threw me down, and as he did so, I saw two females push me; I can swear to Slater, perfectly, as one of them; while she was standing, I felt another one come to my waistcoat pocket, and take my money—I thought I had 17s. 6d., but I will only swear to what is in the indictment—there was a crown, two half-crowns, and two florins, I think—I had changed a sovereign that evening to pay a half crown deposit for some goods, and that was the balance—I had taken it out of one pocket, and put it into another just before—one of the females scraped up the mud in the road, and put it into my eyes and mouth, to stifle me from calling "Police!" I could neither speak nor see—Mr. Bridgman came up, and they all three ran away.
Cross-examined by MR. GRIFFITHS. Q. How many public-houses were you in, is near as you can recollect? A. Only three, the last thing—I left home in the morning, about 10 o'clock, and had nothing to eat till my dinner, at 6 or 7 o'clock—I do not say that I had nothing to drink—I had not a lot of drink, I was quite conscious—I never drink anything stronger than porter, and never call for more than a half pint or a glass—I may have had two glasses at one place, and one at another—I travel about buying horse-hair, to sell again or to manufacture—I believe two public-houses were the outside number that I went into, and I did not remain any length of time—I had a glass of beer at my dinner—it was only filled once—I did not dine at home—I bought a little bit of ham and a halfpenny worth of bread, and ate it in a public-house, with a glass of beer—I then went to the Bedford Arms, from there to the Castle, and from there to the Crown, and remained there to pretty-well closing time—I was not particularly the worse for liquor—I had had a drop of beer in the course of the day, but was quite conscious of everything—I was not tipsy, by a long way—I had a portion of the beer at the King's Arms; I there said, "Look sharp, there is a rum lot here"—I got across the road as soon as I could find my turning—I did not ask anybody, we did not meet a soul—I did not pull my money out in the King's Arms; I had some in the other pocket—while I was walking about, I felt a small hole in my pocket, but not big enough to let a sixpence through, and I put the money into my waistcoat pocket almost the moment before I was knocked down—I did not pull out my money in the King's Arms.
CAROLINE BRIDGMAN . I am the wife of James Bridgman, of Park Street—on 19th August, about 1 o'clock in the morning, I was in the Kent Road, and heard Mr. Carr calling "Police!"—he was lying on the ground, and a man was standing near him, I could not see who it was—I went towards Carr, and two females ran from him; the two female prisoners—I had not seen them before—I heard the cry of "Police!"—Carr's waistcoat was torn down the side, and he asked me for a pin.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he tipsy? A. He appeared so—he had been drinking—I saw mud on his face and waistcoat.
GEORGE STEBBING (Policeman). On 19th August, about 1 o'clock in the morning, or a little after, I was in the Kent Road, and Mrs. Bridgman Pointed out the spot to me, and I saw the prosecutor with his face smeared with mud, and his waistcoat torn—she described two women—I went to the corner of Cornbury Street, and waited there a short time, knowing that the prisoners, according to the description, lived in Kent Street, and would be likely to come there—I then went to the corner of Pitt Street, and about twenty minutes afterwards met the two female prisoners coming out of Pitt
Street—it was raining very hard, and they had no bonnets on—I took them to Mr. Carr, who I had left at the cab stand—I have seen Wheatly in company with the two female prisoners frequently during the three weeks that I was on that beat, previous to this occurrence.
JURY. Q. Was the prosecutor sober? A. No, he had been drinking, but was quite conscious—he was under the influence of drink, but quite able to give a description of the prisoners.
Slater. Q. Where were we standing? A. You came out of Pitt Street—I said, "Halloa, what do you do out on such a night without bonnets and shawls, you will catch a fine cold; come along with me, I will find you shelter—you said, "We were looking for a breakfast first."
Thorn. Q. Did not I say that I must find a breakfast for my baby first? A. Yes.
THOMAS NEWRY (Police Sergeant P 12). On 19th August, about 1.30, a.m., I was in Old Kent Road, and met the prosecutor and Mrs. Bridgman—I met the prisoner at the corner of New Kent Street, and said, "I have been looking for you for the last half-hour"—he said, "What for?"—I said, "Robbing a man named Carr of about 1l. in silver-—he said, "I will go back with you; I know Carr, I have been in his company all the evening, but I know nothing about his loss"—I had received information from Carr himself—the prisoner said at the station, "Mr. Carr, I know nothing of your loss"—Carr said, "Yes, you do."
Cross-examined. Q. Did you swear before the Magistrate that the prisoner said to Mr. Carr, "I know nothing about your loss; you paid for two or three pints of beer, and I left you near the Swan?" A. Yes, I believe those were the words, as near as possible—I have been twenty years in the service—I am not confined to one beat, I am the sergeant of the station.
COURT. Q. Did Carr appear to be able to give a description? A. A very accurate description indeed—he had been drinking, but perfectly well knew what he was doing.
Thorn. The prosecutor went to my father, and asked him to give him money, and he has been to Horsemonger Lane.
COURT to W. CARR. Q. Have you been to Thorn's father? A. I have seen him several times—I have not told him that if he would give me money I would not come up against him; but I have been thrown into the greatest poverty, and the father offered me money—I received 16s., but I did not promise not to come up against them—I took it because I was in want of it—10l. would not pay for my loss, for I have not done a stroke of work since.
Wheatly received a good character.
Slater's Defence. I never saw the man. He had to go to sleep before he could give his evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS GOODERHAM . I keep the Woodman public-house, at Norwood—on Tuesday evening, 18th August, about 6.30, I served the prisoner with a pint of porter—he gave me a bad shilling—I gave him the change, and marked the shilling, and put it on the shelf, thinking he would come again—a short time afterwards my barmaid brought me a bad shilling, and said the prisoner had given it her—I told him he had passed a bad shilling with
me twenty minutes previously—he said he had not been in the house before—I gave him into custody with the shillings.
Prisoner's Defence. I was only there once.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. POLAND and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA WHITMORE . I am the wife of John Whitmore, who keeps the Crystal Fountain beer-house, Kennington Road—on 17th August, about 7 in the evening, the prisoner and another man came there; the other asked for a pint of beer, and gave me a 2s. piece—I gave him 1s. 10d. change—they drank the beer, and a few minutes after the prisoner asked for 2d. worth of bread and cheese for each, and gave me a shilling in payment—I gave him change, and kept the shilling in my hand—my husband came up, and I gave it to him, and they both ran away without eating their bread and cheese—my husband ran after them—I then looked at the florin, and found that was bad as well as the shilling—I afterwards gave them to the constable.
JOHN WHITMORE . I saw the prisoner give my wife the shilling for the bread and cheese—she gave it to me; it was bad—the prisoner and the other man ran out, and I after them—the prisoner was stopped after a half hour's run, and I gave him into custody.
Prisoner's Defence. I was standing by the house, out of the rain, and a man came up, and seeing I was cold and hungry, he took me in and treated me; he gave me the shilling to pay for the bread and cheese; he was a stranger to me.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. POLAND and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HAM . I live at 11, Gibson Street, Lambeth, and am nine years' old—on Saturday, 15th August, I saw the prisoner; he asked me to go and get him a herring, and he would give me a half-penny—he gave me a "shilling—I got a herring at Mrs. Finch's for a penny, and gave it to the prisoner with the change—he asked me to get him another herring, and gave me another shilling—Mrs. Finch gave me the herring, but no change—I took the prisoner the herring—Mr. Finch followed me, and took hold of the prisoner.
MARTHA FINCH . I keep a fish shop, at 169, Lambeth Walk—the last witness came to me for a herring, and gave me 1s.—I gave him 11d. change and the herring—I put the shilling in the till by itself—about ten minutes after he came for another herring—he paid with a bad shilling—I gave him
the herring, but no change—my husband followed him—I took the other shilling out of the till, and gave them both to my husband.
WILLIAM FINCH . I am the husband of the last witness—I received two bad shillings from her—I followed the little boy—when he got up to the prisoner, he said, "Where is the change?"—I seized him, and gave him in charge.
STEPHEN BAINES (Policeman L 122). The prisoner was given into my custody by the last witness, who also gave me two bad shillings—I searched the prisoner, and found 11d. in coppers on him—he said he was not aware the shillings were bad.
GUILTY . He also PLEADED GUILTY to having been before convicted on 27th February, 1868.— Five Tears' Penal Servitude .
MESSRS. POLAND and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
MARIA LOUISA SMOOTHY . I keep a general dealer's, at Oak Cottages, Walcott Square—on 1st August, the prisoner came to my shop for a reel of cotton, and she gave me a sixpence—I gave her the change, and she left—I put the sixpence in the till; there was no other sixpence there—I found it was bad, shortly after—on 8th August she came again for half an ounce of tea and an ounce of tobacco—she gave me a shilling, and I gave her change—after she had left I found it was bad—that shilling has been lost—I am sure it was bad—I saw the prisoner afterwards in custody.
JOHN SMOOTHY . I am the husband of the last witness—the prisoner was in my shop on the 1st August—I recognize her by her voice—after she left I went to the till, and found a bad sixpence—on the 8th August she came again—I heard my wife serve her—directly after she left I went to the till, and found a bad shilling—there was no other silver there—I put it in my mouth, and it was soft—on the 15th August, between 9 and 10, she came again for half an ounce of tobacco, and gave me a bad sixpence—she offered me another one—I said it was her third offence, and I should give her in charge—at the station I produced a third sixpence, which I took last November.
CHARLES LAWS . I live in the prosecutor's house—on Saturday, 15th August, I saw the prisoner there, and Smoothy showed me a bad sixpence—he charged her with uttering bad coin before, and told the boy to fetch a policeman—she tried to detain the boy, and asked Mr. Smoothy to hear reason—as she was speaking, she made a bolt into the street, and ran as fast as she could, calling "George—I followed her for about 150 yards, and then she went up a dark cab yard—I went in after her, and she darted past me into a crowd, and there I caught her, and gave her into custody.
GUILTY .*— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
Imprisonment.")—Iassistedtotaketheprisonertothestation—heistheman.Imprisonment.")—I assisted to take the prisoner to the station—he is the man.
GUILTY.— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
866. THOMAS COLLINS (17), and THOMAS JOHNSON (17) , Robbery with violence on John Marks, and stealing a watch, chain, and key, his property, Collins having been before convicted; to which COLLINS PLEADED GUILTY .**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude, and Twenty Lashes with the Cat .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN MARKS . I am a retired Custom House officer—I live at 21, Penton Street, Newington Butts—on 29th August, I was sitting on some railings taking a little rest, and the prisoners came on me like two lions—they jammed my head against a flag stone, and then took away my watch, and chain, and key—I called out "Murder!" and they put their hands against my throat, took away my stick, and hit me a blow on the nose—I had my watch and other things safe when I sat down to rest—someone came up, and the prisoners ran away—this (produced) is my watch and chain.
Johnson. Q. Was I one of them? A. Yes; I am sure you were there.
MARTHA SHRUBSOLE . I live at Newington Butts, not far from Penton Place—on 29th August, I was passing down Penton Place, and saw Mr. Marks sitting down by some railings—I saw two young men come up to him—one took his stick away and hit him on the nose, and knocked him down—one put his hand over his mouth, and took his watch and chain—they ran away—I called out "Murder!"—a gentleman came up, and I told him where they had gone—I saw them in custody about twenty minutes after, at the police-station—the prisoners are the two persons I saw knock the old man down—they ran up Penton Place, and then into Newington Crescent.
JAMES WALLACE . I am a solicitor's clerk, and live in the Old Kent Road—on 29th August, I was in Penton Place, and saw Mr. Marks sitting down on the coping stone—the two prisoners went up to him—Johnson took hold of him, and Collins took his stick away, and hit him right across the nose with it—Johnson took his watch and chain away, while Collins put his hands over the man's mouth—they then ran up Penton Place, towards Newington Crescent—I ran round another way, calling "Stop thief!"—I saw Collins stopped by another man—I saw Johnson run across the road towards a public-house—I then went and helped Mr. Marks to the station.
HENRY WOODHAM . I am one of the officials at the Lambeth Police Court—one entrance is in Penton Place—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" on 29th August, and saw Johnson coming towards Newington Church—I stopped him—Mr. Thomas came up, and said, "I am glad you have caught him, he has violently assaulted an old gentleman, and robbed him of his watch and chain"—Johnson said, "It was not I."
ROBERT THOMAS . I live at the corner of Penton Place—on 29th August, I heard a cry of "Murder!"—I opened the back gate, and saw Mr. Marks on his back, bleeding from the nose—I went to the top of Penton Place, and met the prisoners running up the Newington Crescent—I ran after
them, and found Collins in the Plough public-house, with the watch in his pocket.
JOHN EDWARD IRVING . I am one of the surgeons at Colney Hatch—on 29th August, I was surgeon at St. Bartholomew's Hospital—I examined Mr. Marks—he had a very severe bruise on the nose, and a great shock to the nervous system—he was suffering very much—his nose was not broken—he suffers in his head now.
Johnson's Statement before the Magistrate: "What the witnesses have stated about striking the old gentleman is false, for there was no blow given at all."
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. TAYLOR conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZA BROWN . I live with my husband, John Brown, at 13, Pratt Street, Lambeth—I know a Mrs. McDaniel, who lives at 9, High Street—on Monday morning, 17th August, I went to ask her to come to tea—I saw the prisoner after I had been there a little while—she came up and threw a brick at me, and said, "Take that, you b——!"—it struck me on the head, and I became insensible—I know nothing more about it.
Prisoner. Were you drinking with my husband? Witness. No; I do not know him.
MARGARET MCDANIEL . I am the wife of John McDaniel, and live at 9, High Street, Lambeth—on 17th August, the last witness came to see me—while we were talking, the prisoner came within two yards of us, and said, "You b——, take that"—she had two half-bricks in her hand—one struck my friend on the head, and she became insensible—the other one just missed me—she lives in the same house—we had not been with her husband.
ELIZABETH WOODFORD . I occupy a room at 9, High Street, Lambeth—on 17th August, I heard my children screaming, and went out—I saw Mrs. Brown bleeding from the temple—I bathed it with water till the doctor came.
EDWAR CHARLES COTTINGHAM . I am a surgeon, at Church Street, Lambeth—on 17th August, I was called to attend Mrs. Brown—she had a lacerated wound on the right temple, about an inch and a half long—it had bled a good deal—she was in a fainting state from loss of blood—it was a severe wound, and would be likely to be caused by the edge of this brick—it must have been thrown with much force.
Prisoner's Defence. I had been drinking, and was in an excited state. I threw the bricks in the room, but I did not intend to wound anyone.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding— Six Months' Imprisonment .
MR. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
ALEXANDER SKIRVING . I am a mason, and live at 12, Berkley Street, Lambeth—the prisoner is my wife—on the night of 19th August, I was in bed—I received a blow on the head with this chopper—I jumped out of bed, and saw the prisoner with the chopper in her hand—I tried to get it from
her, but she struggled and resisted, and I was obliged to use great violence to get it away from her—I went for a doctor, and the prisoner was given in charge—when she is sober I am on good terms with her, but she is drunk at times—she threatened that she would take my life while I was asleep—we have been married twenty-three years—she was very drunk, and very violent.
ALFRED WILLIAMS . I live in the same house as the last witness—I heard someone call out "Murder!"—I went up stairs—I saw the prisoner, and her husband trying to stop her from going out—she said she would go out and have some more to drink—she was then very drunk—I saw the prosecutor about half an hour afterwards, with his head bleeding, coming down stairs—the prisoner came home about 9 o'clock, very drunk indeed—he is a steady, honest man.
CHARLES CORBETT BLADES . I am a surgeon, of Kennington Park Road—I examined the prosecutor, by the Magistrate's order—I found a large contused wound on his forehead—it was bruised considerably—it was probably done with the flat side of the chopper.
WILLIAM WILLIS (Policeman L 157). I took the prisoner—she was very drank, and said "He should not have hit me," and she began screaming and crying—her eye was swollen—the prosecutor was sober; but he was weak from loss of blood.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. POLAND and COLLINS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
WILLIAM BEAVIS (Police-Inspector M). On Wednesday morning, 9th September, I was at Guy's Hospital, and saw William Johnson, a patient there—Mr. Partridge, the Magistrate, attended there, and took his deposition—the prisoner was present, and had an opportunity of cross-examining him—the deposition was read over, and Johnson made his mark—I afterwards saw him dead—(Read: "I have been lodging at Levy's lodging-house, in the Mint—I am now an inmate of Guy's Hospital—last night, about 8.45, I was at 2, Disney Street, Mint Street, in the passage, about to leave the house—we had a bit of a tussle in the passage, in coming out of the door, with a man named Henry Hodges, who goes by the name of Meaty; the prisoner is the man I had the tussle with—Meaty was present and saw it; it was not with him—I felt something go against my stomach; I thought it was the key at the time, but I put my hand in my trowsers pocket and found the blood—I said, "Go after him, Meaty, he has stabbed me"—he went away after he stabbed me; he went away to opposite Wallis's Alley—Meaty seized hold of him to lock him up, and I saw Mr. Driscoll pick up a knife—I did not fall after I was stabbed—I came down after the prisoner—I followed Meaty; I could not run—I felt pain at the time I was stabbed—I had had a bit of a quarrel with the prisoner before this happened, in the yard; in the back yard—the prisoner lived in the house; he was deputy there—the quarrel took place before I went into the house—X the mark of William Johnson."—the prisoner refused to put any question, and said, "I don't wish to trouble him, but he has given two different statements."
Cross-examined. Q. How far is this lodging-house from the station? A. About ten minutes' walk—I knew Johnson, he has been several times in custody; he had twelve months' imprisonment for assaulting and injuring a constable, who has since been superannuated, from the injuries he received—he has assaulted other constables—I have seen him several times the worse for liquor; he was exceedingly violent when in liquor—he was about twentyeight or thirty years of age.
HENRY HODGES . I am a water-side labourer, and live at 11, Suffolk Street, Borough; I had known the deceased seven or eight years; he was a costermonger, and was about thirty years of age—he lodged at Levy's lodging-house, in Disney Street, the prisoner was deputy there, and his wife assisted—on this night, about a little after eight o'clock, I was with Johnson; I left him at the corner of the Old Justice public-house, about sixty yards from the lodging-house; he was in liquor; he had no capon—I went in doors and was called out again, I went as far as Levy's greengrocer's shop, and saw Johnson leaning against the wall—I persuaded him to go home, which he did—I went with him; he was able to walk—the front door was open; he went through the passage—I did not see anything of the prisoner theft—he was inside about two or three minutes—I heard a bit of a row, I could not tell the voices—Johnson then came out, and the prisoner's wife followed him out, and the prisoner came directly after her—I took Johnson as far as Harris Street, about six yards from the lodging-house—he then said, "I am stabbed; "and he pointed to the prisoner, and told me to run after him, he was about twenty yards off at the time, and running—I ran after him about one hundred yards before I caught him—I said to him, "You have stabbed Johnson"—he said nothing—I asked what he had done with the knife—he said nothing—other persons ran up, and Driscol gave me a knife, I did not see him pick it up—I gave it to the constable, who took charge of the prisoner—the prisoner was sober—I saw no marks of violence upon him.
Cross-examined. Q. Before Johnson went into the house, did he appear as if he had been fighting? A. Yes, his lip was swollen—he was a powerful man—he was very much intoxicated on this evening—I did not see anything of the fight—it was over when I came up, the fight was between Johnson and Levy's son, not with the prisoner—I did not notice that the prisoner was very much out of breath when I got up to him; I don't know that he was running to the station, he could go that way, but it is not the direct road—Johnson went into Levy's to get his cap—he had no cap with his after he was stabbed.
DENNIS DRISCOL . I am a labourer, and live at 5, Vine Yard, Mint Street—on the the evening of 8th September, about 9 o'clock, I was standing at the corner of Wallis's Alley, I saw a number of persons running from the Mint—I saw Hodges run and catch hold of the prisoner—he said, "What did you do with the knife?" the prisoner made no answer, but chucked a knife in the middle of the road—I picked it up, and gave it to Hodges, (produced)—it was shut when I picked it up; I could not say what sort of knife it was, I did not look at it.
MARTIN SIMONSON (Policeman M 88).—On 8th September, about 8.40 or 8.45, I saw Johnson, supported by two men, bleeding from the lower part of his body—he made no statement to me, he only said, "Oh, oh!"—I told the men to take him to a doctor's—this knife was given to me by Hodges, it was shut—I examined it, there was blood on the blade, and one side appeared as if it had been wiped; there were streaks of blood on it—Hodges had hold
of the prisoner, and he said, "This is the man that stabbed him"—the knife was handed to Hodges, and he said, "This is the knife he stabbed him with"—I told the prisoner I should charge him with stabbing the man—he said nothing them, but when we had got about fifty yards up tie street, he said, "I know nothing about this at all"—Johnson was taken to the hospital—I afterwards looked at the pavement by the lodging-house, and saw marks of blood, about six yards from the door—I did not go into the house the prisoner was sober; there were no bruises or marks on him—I found no marks of blood on his clothes.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe it was not till you got to the station that you examined the knife? A. No, the blood was on the big blade; it appeared to have been wiped down on one side; that might have been done against the deceased's clothes—Johnson was a very troublesome man when he had been drinking.
WILLIAM GRIFFITHS . I am a labourer—I lodged with the prisoner, at Levy's, in Disney Street—on the night in question, a little before 8 o'clock, I was in Levy's kitchen, with some others—Mrs. Hall, the prisoner's wife, was there—she managed the house—Johnson came in intoxicated—he sat down at the table and said, "Take my lodging money"—he had a clay pipe in his hand, which he heaved at Mrs. Hall—Mr. Levy was sent for—Johnson called him bad names, and said he would break the window—the prisoner was in the kitchen at the time—Mr. Levy said to Johnson, "Don't make a fool of yourself;" and he called out, saying he would have protection—Johnson chucked Over a round table before Mr. Levy's face, and then booked another table over with some crockery on it—there was a wire in the kitchen that is used to toast the meat with, and he took that up and said, "This is my property, it is not Mr. Levy's, and broke it"—he then went out, and took the broken wire with him—about two minutes afterwards I heard a scream, I ran out against Levy the greengrocer's, and saw Johnson lying in the road, about thirty or forty yards off—his nose and mouth were bleeding—he got up, I did not see which way he went—I went indoors, and looked at Charley Levy, who was sitting in the parlour, and they were giving him some water—he had been fighting with Johnson—the prisoner was not in the kitchen when Johnson was throwing the things about: Mrs Hall was—the prisoner had gone out before Johnson came in—I saw no quarrel between them.
Cross-examined. Q. What were you doing? A. Sitting in the corner, having some supper—Mrs Hall came out of her parlour into the kitchen when she heard the noise—the passage from the street leads into the kitchen, the yard is on the left hand side—I am sure the prisoner was not there when Johnson came in—I saw him when I was going out after Johnson had gone, going through the passage—I saw nothing of the fight outside—I saw that Charley Levy was very much knocked about.
LEWIS LEVY . I am a greengrocer, at 160, High Street, Borough—I have also a shop at 51, Mint Street—the lodging house in Mint Street is mine—the prisoner's wife is my deputy, and he assists her—Johnson has had lodgings there on and off for two or three years—I have turned him out several times—I have a son named Charles—he is 17 years old—he is now attending to the shop—about 8 o'clock on the night in question, Mrs. Hall came to me; and, in consequence of what she told me, I went to the lodging-house I saw Johnson there—he was very violent, throwing about the tables and things in the kitchen—I said I would have protection, and I went to the
station and asked them to send a couple of constables—the prisoner was not in the kitchen at that time—when I came back from the station Johnson was standing in front of my shop in Mint Street, with a piece of wire in his hand, twisted up something like a dagger—my son said, "Father see what he has got in his hand, get a policeman"—I said I would, and he directly caught hold of my boy by the hair of his head, and said he would beat his brains out, and knocked him down—he was got any from him, and I went indoors with my son—I gave the piece of wire to a friend, who has forgotten to bring it here.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner an orderly, well-conducted man? A. Yes—I never saw him in any bother—after the fight with my son was over, Johnson said, "I will go round and beat old Hall and his wife's brains out," and he went in the direction of the lodging-house—you have to go down the passage, and through the kitchen, in order to go through the yard—it is seven or eight yards from the street to the kitchen.
BENJAMIN NEAL DALTON . In September last, I was house surgeon at Guy's Hospital—on the evening of the 8th, about 9 o'clock, Johnson was brought there—he had a wound on the lower part of the abdomen, about three-quarters of an inch in extent—the bowels were wounded, and a portion of it was protruding—it was on the left side, and below the level of the navel—he died on the 10th, of inflammation resulting from that wound—he was otherwise in a healthy state—the wound must have been caused by some sharp instrument—I examined the clothes he had on, and they had cuts corresponding to the wound—a knife like this (produced) might have done it—the man was conscious, but he had been drinking.
Cross-examined. Q. Is it perfectly possible that a drunken man stumbling, and falling against a knife, might have caused such a wound? A. It is possible, but the instrument must have entered vertically.
GUILTY> of manslaughter.— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment .
MR. ATKINSON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LILLEY the Defence.
ANNIE PILBEAM . I am a widow—until very recently I carried on business as a coffee-house keeper, at 77, Old Kent Road—on 17th August, about 7 in the evening, the prisoner came with her father, Mr. Jennings, to ask if I could accommodate her with a bed for a night—I said, "Yes"—they had tea there—her father sat with her for some time, and left about 10.30—the prisoner went to her bed room about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour afterwards—after she had been in her room some time, she opened her door and called three times "Madame"—I went to see what was the matter, and she said a man was in the chimney, or secreted in the room—the bar parlour chimney runs through the room, but there is no fire-place in the room—I stayed with her from seven to ten minutes, and then left, and she promised to make herself comfortable and go to bed—she believed the house was really respectable—she had been drinking for a week, and she was afraid it was the effect of delirium tremens—she appeared quite sober then—she asked if I would allow her a candle to burn all night, as she was very nervous, and I allowed her to have one—I then went back to my sitting room—shortly afterwards, as I was putting out the gas and going to my bed room, the prisoner opened her bed room door, and stood with a revolver, and
threatened me—she said, "You wretched woman, this night you die!" or words to that effect—she pointed the revolver direct at me—I was standing in the door-way of my sitting room, which was nearly opposite her bed room—there was a light in the sitting room, and also in her room—I had just time to run on to the second or third step of the stairs when the bullet passed me—I heard it strike the cornice of my sitting room, just above my had—I heard the report—the bullet struck the cornice, and lodged in a chair beneath—I rushed up stairs, and screamed "Police!" and "Murder!" from my top room window—the police came, and I asked them to break in at the door, for a woman was shooting at me—the door was burst open, and a witness with the policeman rushed in—the prisoner rushed down stairs with the revolver in her hand, declaring she was a desperate woman, and she would blow out the brains of the first who approached her—I rushed down behind her, put my hand on her shoulder, and pushed her into the street, and screamed to the policeman to secure her, as she had a pistol—the policeman had gone outside, and stood behind the door, so as to catch her as she came out—he took her into custody—I found the bullet next day in the padding of the chair.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you had never seen the prisoner before that evening? A. Never, nor her father—we were particularly amicable together while at tea—she did not go out of the house after tea—her father did, and he returned some time after, and the prisoner asked my servant if he might bring her something to her bed room; what it was I do not know—she retired to bed about 10.30—it was about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes afterwards that she said a man was in the chimney—she seemed excited and alarmed—I endeavoured to pacify her—nothing passed but what was civil and kindly—as near as I could, guess, it was from 11.15 to 11.30 when she presented the revolver—there was a hole in the lining of the chair where the bullet lodged.
MR. ATKINSON. Q. As the prisoner stood at her door with the revolver, were you on a level with her? A. She was a little below me—her father left and returned while I was talking to her in her room—he was not with her above two minutes then—she was perfectly sober when I left her—she said she was suffering from delirium, and it was nothing but nervousness on her part.
THOMAS CONNOR (Policeman P 188). I broke open the door, and entered the house—I lit the gas, and saw the prisoner coming down stairs with the revolver in her hand—I rushed upon her, and took it away from her—she put the muzzle on my breast, and no doubt tried to pull the trigger—Mrs. Pilbeam came behind her, and pushed her outside, as I was struggling with her.
Cross-examined. Q. Did she make use of any expression? A. After I had secured her she said there was a man in the room—she seemed very much excited, as if she had been drinking for two or three days previously—she seemed sober and rational in her conversation.
THOMAS JENNINGS . I am a shoe maker, and live in 24, Park Place, Lock's Fields—the prisoner is my daughter—she is married to a seaman—on 17th August she came to me—I had not seen her for fourteen or fifteen months—she appeared very much excited—she said she had a pistol—I begged her to give it me—she was labouring under the idea that somebody was following her to rob her—she repeated that several times—I went with her to Mrs. Pilbeam's.
Cross-examined. Q. What did she say when you asked her for the pistol? A. She said, "I sha'n't use it, father; I sha'n't do any harm with it"—she has been in America—I saw her after that from time to time—some years ago she received a very severe injury on the head, and when she took drink it produced extreme excitement, making her, to a certain extent, frantic for a time—I have known her, at such times, break all the crockery, and throw down things of very great value, and smash them to pieces, without any provocation—on the day in question, she said she had been drinking for the last two or three days—I have seen her several times under the influence of drink, and she has invariably exhibited symptoms of a very frantic condition—she only had a glass of ale, on the night in question, before we went to the coffee-house—I left her there and went on a message, and when I returned I knocked at the door, and was answered by the servant—I did not find Mrs. Pilbeam with her when I went up stairs—she said nothing to me then about a man following her—next day she said there was somebody in the chimney.
NOT GUILTY, on the ground of temporary insanity Ordered to be detained until Her Majesty's pleasure be known .—.
MR. STARLING conducted the Prosecution.
It appearing that the blow, which caused the injury of which deceased died, was given by Catherine Roe, and that there was no joint act of the prisoner, he was Acquitted .
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 26TH OCTOBER, 1868.