CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
J. C. LAWRENCE, MAYOR.
SECOND SESSION, HELD DECEMBER 14TH, 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, December 14th, 1868, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE, M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; Sir ANTHONY CLEASBY, Knt., one of the Barons of Her Majesty's Court of Exchequer; SAMUEL WILSON , Esq., Sir WILLIAM ANDERSON ROSE, Knt., and WARREN STORMES HALE, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSEL GURNEY, Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; ROBERT BESLEY, Esq., SILLS JOHN GIBBONS, Esq., DAVID HENRY STONE , Esq., JOSEPH CAUSTON, Esq., and THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq., Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS, Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; and ROBERT MALCOLM, Esq., L.L.D., 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 JAMES RICHMOND COTTON, Esq.
CHARLES WILLIAM COOKWORTHY HUTTON, Esq.
ALEXANDER CROSLEY, Esq.
ROBART SLEE, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
J. C. LAWRENCE, MAYOR. SECOND SESSION.
A star (*) denotes that prisoners have been previously in custody—two stars (**) that they have been more than once in custody—an obelisk (†) that they are known to be the associates of bad characters—the figures after the name in the indictment denote the prisoner's age.
LONDON AND MIDDLESEX CASES.
OLD COURT.—Monday, December 14th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
Before a Jury composed half of Foreigners.
MR. LEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS the Defence.
It appeared in this Case that the money was obtained by a promise of something to be done hereafter by the prisoner; and the Court ruled that the false pretence must be as to an existing fact. The Jury were therefore directed to find a verdict of NOT GUILTY .
MR. METCALFE conducted the Prosecution. (The prisoner, being a foreigner, had the evidence nterpreted.)
SAMUEL KONODY . I am an interpreter, and live at 19, Charles Street, Euston Square—I know the prisoner; he called on me some time ago, and showed me a letter which he said he had received from his agent at Dunkirk, that he expected a bill of lading, and he had confidence in me to undertake the landing and sale of the cargo, which was about 100 tons of potatoes—
he then said "Will you be so kind as to advance me some money till my ship comes in?"—I said No, I should go over to Dunkirk and see if the ship was there—he said "All right, you can go"—I went to London Bridge to take the boat to Dunkirk—the prisoner said "It is no use to go there and spend 2l., you had best stop till to-morrow, and the ship will be here"—so I did not go—this is the bill of lading he showed me—I said "If the ship will be here to-morrow, I will give you 20l.," and I handed him 20l. in gold: that was on the faith of the bill of lading—next day I went to the Custom House to inquire if such a ship, the Mary Adelaide, had arrived—I did not find her—I telegraphed over and got a reply—I never saw the ship at all—I saw the prisoner four or five days after, and gave him into custody, but the inspector discharged him because I had not evidence enough—when I charged him he said, "Oh, I am my ship's captain, you must not be so fast, the ship will be here to-morrow or the day after; it is very bad weather there, and it is a sailing vessel, you can't expect it to a moment."
Prisoner. Did not you have the bill of lading in your hands five days before? Witness. No, I gave you the 20l. at London Bridge, about 11.30 at night—you did not introduce a Mr. Corney to me, you brought him to my place—I did not give Corney 6l., not a farthing—I did not go to a public-house with you and him; we went to London Bridge—I handed a paletot and cane to Corney—I did not offer to give him my watch and chain, nor did you prevent me from doing so—I met you about three days afterwards, near the Boulogne boat—I had then received a letter from the captain at Dunkirk—I took you to Mr. Sobrinski's because I wanted to see what you had in your pocket—I took one letter out of your pocket-book there, not three letters; it was an open letter, addressed to you; I did not open any sealed letters—I met you next day in the Euston Road, and gave you in charge—you said it was Corney who owed me the money, that you had not received it—you did not show me any letter from Corney—I saw a letter, signed "Corney," a few days after, but it was in your writing—I don't know what has become of it, it was only part of the game for obtaining money—I went to your house a few days after—the landlady said you had gone to France three days ago, and would not let me in; but I got a policeman, and went in and gave you in charge.
CHARLES ATKINS . I am a shipping agent, of 1, Water Lane, City—on 24th October the prisoner came to my office—I had never seen him before—he said he had arrived the previous day from Dunkirk, where he had loaded a small sailing vessel, the Reine Victoire, with potatoes for the London markets, and that he had been recommended to apply to me to take charge of the cargo and obtain the sale there of—I told him I could do so—he then produced this bill of lading—you can buy blank forms of these things at any port, and fill them up as you choose—I asked him if that was his name, "De Bac," as the shipper—he said it was, and he signed that name at the back of the bill of lading—it purported to be signed by R. Pinto; captain of the French vessel, Reine Victoire, of Dunkirk, for 100 tons of potatoes, to be delivered to London to the order of Vincent De Bac—it is dated 22nd October, 1868—I observed that it was dated the 22nd October, and said, "I suppose it will be up to-morrow"—he said, "To-morrow or Monday"—I went with him to the potatoe market and introduced him to several buyers—he then told me that he had bought a lot of potatoes in the North of France, that they were going to Boulogne to be shipped—and he should
go over to Boulogne to get a vessel to bring them—he left this bill of lading in my hands, so that if the vessel arrived I should take charge of it; he said possibly he might not have sufficient money to pay the charges at Boulogne, if I would let him have 20l. on security of the bill of lading it would be rendering him a service—I told him I should have to advance the freights when the vessel arrived, it was not my business to lend money, and I would rather not do it—he said I had plenty of security for my money, and subsequently, to oblige him, I gave him two 10l. notes—after a few days, finding the vessel did not arrive, I wrote to my correspondents at Dunkirk, who made certain inquiries there—the prisoner never came to me any more—on 5th November I met him in the street—I said "Well, Mr. Luco, what about the ship that you said was coming?" and he said, "Oh, she sprung a leak before she left the port, and was unable to start"—I took him to my office—he then said the potatoes were coming by a steamer—I told him, from the inquiries I had made, I was satisfied he had been endeavouring to swindle me—I told him bills of lading were never signed unless the goods were actually on board—he said "Oh, the goods were on board, but they were discharged on account of the vessel leaking; I am an honest man, I don't wish to defraud you, and I will prove that to you by returning you the 20l."—he did not do so—I sent my clerk with him to enable him to get it, but I never got it, or the potatoes, and no such vessel exists.
Prisoner. Did I seem astonished when at your office that the vessel had not arrived? Witness. No—you told me you were not De Bac, but captain Luco, that was when I said I would give you into custody; you then said you would explain the affair to me—my clerk was with you for three hours—I believe you said you had not benefited by the money, that you had given it to some other person.
GEORGE CARLIER . I am the British Vice-Consul at Dunkirk—I know the names of all the vessels trading to and from Dunkirk—there is no such vessel as the Mary Adelaide belonging to Dunkirk—there is a vessel called the Reine Vicloire belonging to Dunkirk—she is employed in the Iceland and coast trade—I have seen the bill of lading—there was no vessel of that name laden with potatoes from Dunkirk to London in October—the name of the captain of the Reine Victoire is Messem—she arrived at Dunkirk in the beginning of October, from Archangel, laden with flax or tow—she is now laid up in Dunkirk dock, and has been ever since she arrived from Archangel—she has not been laden with potatoes since—I have heard a good deal of the prisoner, but I know nothing of him personally.
JOHN HAWKES (City Policeman). On the 5th of November I was called to Mr. Atkins' office, and received the prisoner in custody—at the station he gave the name of Noel Desire Luco, and some address—he said if Mr. Atkins gave him time, he would pay—that was translated by Mr. Atkins to me.
The Prisoner, in his Defence, which was interpreted, stated that he was merely acting as agent in the matter, and had derived nothing from the tranaction.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
THOMAS SHAW . I am a farmer, at Exwick, near Exeter—on Monday, 26th October, I was at the cricket ground, Islington, at the pony races—I had received a 5l. note—I can't say what time in the day it was, but it was after the races, 5 or 6 o'clock, I think—my hands were occupied when I took the note, in taking some half sovereigns, and I placed the note in my mouth, and held it there while I pocketed the half sovereigns—I was standing with my face to the betting booth of Valentine and Wright, where I had just received the money—I placed the note in my mouth, and put my hands into my great coat pockets—I felt a hand come and snatch the note—I made a firmer grasp with my teeth at the note, and the man who took it left a portion of the note between my teeth—I then turned round to see who it was, and saw a man disappearing among the crowd, getting between, as an eel would among a lot of eels; and, the prisoner confronting me, he said, "What do you want, where are you going?"—and he hustled me, and put himself in a fighting attitude—from this interruption I lost sight of the other man in the crowd—I took the piece of the note out of my mouth and put it in my pocket—I then said to the prisoner, "You scoundrel, you are as bad as the other"—he said, "Oh, I came round this course for a purpose," which he mentioned; there was a place there that might be made a convenience of—I preserved the portion of the note, and sent it next morning to the Bank of England.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you been betting? A. I had—I don't pretend to say that the prisoner is the man that snatched the portion of the note from my mouth—I am sure he is not—there was a great crowd—I found this man standing before me—I turned round as fast as I could—I did not give him into custody then, or attempt to hold him.
HENRY FLETCHER . I am a carpenter, and live at 32, Florence Street, Islington—I was at those races and saw Shaw there—I saw a 5l. note handed down from Messrs. Valentine and Wright's stand, and he put it into his mouth—the prisoner was standing close to him at that time—he said to a party standing on his left hand side, "Take that!"—as soon as the note was put into Mr. Shaw's mouth, the man made a snatch at Mr. Shaw's mouth and tore a portion of the note away—another portion was left in his mouth—Mr. Shaw turned round and accused the man of taking it—he said, "Oh no, I know nothing at all about it, I was here for a different purpose"—as he turned round to accuse him, the prisoner got in between Mr. Shaw and the other man, and the other man turned off to the left and walked up the cricket ground—the prisoner then walked up in the same direction and joined the man at the top of the long gravel walk at the back of the house—I made a communication to the prosecutor—there were about twenty persons there, as near as I can guess.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you before the Magistrate on the first occasion? A. I was not examined—sometimes I do a trifle in betting, such as a glass of ale, or anything of that kind—I was not betting upon this occasion—it was from 4.30 to 5 o'clock—I don't think I had had either luncheon or dinner—I saw some paying going on from the booth—I did not hear any squabbling about it—I did not see the prisoner receive any money from the booth.
WILLIAM WALLACE . I am a clerk in the Secretary's office, Bank of England—on 27th October, the prisoner brought this portion of the bank-note (produced)—I had previously received that other portion of the same note
—the prisoner said he and his old woman had had a row—I said, "Is this the result," and he said, "Yes"—the two portions were handed to Bull, the officer.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the prisoner drunk or sober when he came? A. He had had something to drink—he appeared as if he had been drinking—it was about 2 o'clock in the day—I believe he did not put his name on the note; the name of Foy is on the note.
FREDERICK WINDLE RITCHIE . I am a clerk in the Issue Department in the Bank of England—on 27th October, between I and 2 o'clock, the prisoner came and presented that portion of the 5l. note for payment—I told him it was a mutilated note, and I could not pass it in that state—he said he had had a row with his old woman—he then said I could keep it—I told him he had better take it to the Secretary's office to get it marked, and I sent a person to show him the way.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he appear as if he had been drinking? A. Yes, very much so; but he was not drunk—I think he wrote his name on the note in the office.
JOHN MARK BULL (City Detective Sergeant). About 2.30 on the afternoon of 27th October, I was called to the Secretary's office, Bank of England, and saw the prisoner there—he was very much the worse for liquor—Mr. Wallace stated that he had received a letter containing a portion of the note, and the prisoner had brought the other portion and stated that he and his old woman had had a row—I told him I was a police officer, and asked where he got the note—he said, "I won it at the races"—I said, "What races?"—he said, "The Islington Races, yesterday; I won it at the last race"—I said his account was not satisfactory to me, and I should detain him and take him to the police-station; I said, "Who did you win it of?"—he made no reply—in taking him to the station he was very violent, and attempted to escape—he gave his correct address, 5, Winslow Street, Haverstock Hill; his mother keeps a laundry there.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not a man named Smith given into custody at St. Alban's for this? A. This is the first I have heard of it—what the prisoner said was, that he took it from a man after the last race—not that he won it.
WILLIAM WITHAM (Policeman 85). I was in plain clothes at the cricket ground on the day of the races—I saw the prosecutor with a piece of paper in his mouth, and I saw a man reach over his shoulder and match it out of his mouth—the prosecutor tried to follow him, and the prisoner came in front of him with his hands in his pockets and kept confronting him—I heard the prosecutor say he had not got the number, and I asked him what it was—he said it was a 5l. note—I went in search of the man, but could not find him—I thought at first that it was a common piece of paper.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there a great crowd outside Valentine and Wright's booth? A. I suppose from thirty to forty or fifty persons—several persons were settling after the last race.
GUILTY .— Eight Months' Imprisonment .
MR. CUNNINGHAM conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MOODY defended Wilde.
No evidence was offered against SHEA.— NOT GUILTY .
CHARLES DUCAS . I am now living in Pimlico—at the time of this affair I was residing at Limehouse—on the morning of the 5th of December, between I and 2 o'clock, I was going along the Commercial Road—four persons passed me, and after passing me the prisoner Harvey seized me by the back of the arm, and kept me back in that way, while the others rifled my pockets of my pocket book, and twelve half-crowns, and some papers—they returned the papers into my outside coat pocket, finding they were of no use—Wilde was the one that rifled my pockets—I called out for the police, and ran after Harvey—they all ran away—Harvey came back again and I said to the police who came up, "Officer, take him in charge,"—he was bolting again, but the police caught him—Wilde was taken on Saturday night, the 5th—I was present at the time, with a constable and the lad Townsend—he identified Wilde in my presence.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you had not seen those persons before that night? A. No—it occupied about a minute and a half—I saw them before I was seized, as they passed me—I had just come from New York—I had not had anything to drink at all, only one glass of brandy with a friend in the City—on the 9th of December I went to a public-house in Shoreditch, and pointed out a man as one of the men who did this—I did not know that Townsend did so as well—it might have been an error in judgment on my part—the man was taken to the station, but I did not press the charge—the inspector sent to Whitechapel workhouse, and some of the officials came and said the man was in the workhouse on the night of the robbery, and he was discharged—I don't know whether there was a coffee stall near the place where I was robbed—it happened just at the end of Flower and Dean Street—I was quite sober.
JOSEPH TOWNSEND . I am a labourer, and live at Smith's lodging-house, Brick Lane—on the morning of 5th December, between I and 2 o'clock, I saw the prosecutor and Harvey, Wilde, and two more chaps—I don't see either of the other two here—the four went up to the prosecutor—Harvey caught hold of his neck, and the other three rifled his pockets—I have no doubt as to Harvey, and Wilde was one of them—I did not see Wilde again until the Saturday night following—I then saw him in a chandler's shop—the prosecutor was with me—Wilde was taken into custody, and we then identified him—after the four persons had rifled the prosecutor's pockets, they ran down Flower and Dean Street—the prosecutor followed, calling "Police!"—I saw Harvey come back out of Flower and Dean Street, towards Fashion Street, and when he saw the prosecutor and the policeman he walked back again—the policeman went after him—he attempted to run, and the constable took him.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was this? A. Just on 2 in the morning—all the shops were shut—I was going to my work—I am a carman—I was between twenty and thirty yards off when I saw this—I ran up, and just as I get up, the men all ran down Flower and Dean Street—the prosecutor was none the worse for drink—there was a coffee stall in Flower and Dean Street, about forty or fifty yards from where the robbery took place—
I was not standing there when I heard the shouting—I had had a cup of coffee—I don't know the man Williams, who was taken up on this charge—I have seen him—I did not have any talk with him yesterday afternoon; he wanted to talk to me, and I would not have any conversation with him—I told him I had had a cup of coffee—I was at the stall when I first heard the noise—I did not tell Williams that the prosecutor was not quite drunk, but had evidently been drinking; or, that he was going to take us up as well—only I said it was Harvey—I never said any such words to him.
Harvey. What did you say to me when I came up? Witness. I said I was certain you were one of them.
DAVID ISTED (Policeman H 77). On Saturday night, 5th December, I was with the prosecutor and last witness, searching for the prisoner—we looked into a window in Kent Street, and saw Wilde and three other men in the shop, and the prosecutor and Townsend pointed him out to me and said he was one of them—I asked if they were certain that he was; they said, "Yes, they could swear to him from a thousand"—I took him into custody—he said, "I did not do it."
BOWEN MCGEAN (Policeman H 143). I was in Commercial Street, on the morning of 5th December, between I and 2—I heard a noise, went up and saw the prosecutor—while talking to him Harvey came up—he saw me and went back—the prosecutor said, "That is one of them, take him into custody"—I followed and got hold of him—he said, "I am quite innocent, I know nothing of it"—I had not said anything to him about the charge before he said that.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prosecutor appear to have been drinking at all? A. No.
Harvey. You misconstrued my words; I said, "What do you want with me, I have done nothing?" I said nothing about being innocent, for I did not know what the charge was. Witness. What he said was, "I am quite innocent, I know nothing of it."
Witness for the Defence.
JOHN WILLIAMS . Last Wednesday, 9th December, about 8.30, I was in a public-house—the prosecutor and two friends walked in and out again, and returned with two officers, and gave me into custody—I know nothing about this matter—I only know they swore to me falsely.
NOT GUILTY .
JOHN JINKS . I am an errand boy in the service of Messrs Hyams, of Wood Street—on the morning of the 26th December I was out in his trap—I was loading it—the mackintosh was outside—I saw the prisoner just before I began to load—he looked at me very hard, and I looked at him—after I had commenced loading, a boy told me something, in consequence of which I ran after the prisoner and found him in Mitre Street, Bishopsgate, wearing the mackintosh—I asked where he was going—he asked what I wanted with him, he had got nothing of mine—I said "I want this mackintosh"—I saw a police sergeant just in front of me; he came, and I gave the prisoner into custody—this is the mackintosh—it belongs to Mr. Bull.
Prisoner. Did I not say I had just bought it? Witness. No—I did not see you take it—the boy who told me is not here.
Prisoner's Defence. I had bought it not two minutes before he had came up and spoke to me.
He further PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction at this Court in June 1863. **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
NEW COURT.—Monday, December 14th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
92. ELLEN BRAZELL (22) , to feloniously forging and uttering a receipt for 8l. 10s.; also a receipt for 2s. 1d., with intent to defraud— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image]
MR. CRAUFURD conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH BETTS . I am a grocer, at 9, Nevill Road, Stoke Newington—on the 14th of November I served the prisoner with a quarter of a pound of loaf sugar and an ounce of tea, which came to 4d.—he gave me a shilling, I gave him the change and he left—I kept the shilling in my hand and afterwards weighed it, it was very light—I showed it to my daughter, and threw it on the fire, it melted quickly and ran through—on the 18th of November the prisoner came again, I recognised him—he asked for tea, sugar, and bacon, which came to 91/2d.—my daughter served him with the, tea and sugar—I saw the prisoner throw down a half-crown, and my daughter said, "Mother, this is a bad one"—I tried it, found it was bad, and put it on the counter—the prisoner picked it up and said, "I know where I got it, wait a few minutes, put the goods on one side, and I will call again for them"—he left, and I followed him three quarters of a mile, and pointed him out to a policeman—it was a Victoria half-crown—the prisoner said that if he had known it was a bad shilling, he should not have come to the shop again so soon.
ELIZABETH MARY BETTS . I am a daughter of the last witness—on the 14th of November I saw the prisoner in the shop—after he had gone my mother showed me a shilling—I tried it and gave it back to her—on the 18th of November the prisoner came again—I served him with some tea and sugar, and he gave me a half-crown—I said to my mother "This is a bad one," and put it on the counter—she took it up and put it on the counter again—the prisoner took it up and left the shop, leaving the goods.
Prisoner. Your mother was not in the shop? Witness. She was close to my side.
FRANK MYERS (Policeman N 217). On 18th November, Betts pointed out the prisoner to me—I took him, and said that he had been tendering a bad half-crown—he said, "I know nothing about any bad money; I have no bad money"—as we crossed to the station, he seemed to throw something away which looked like paper—I picked it up—it contained this bad half-crown (produced)—I asked him what he meant by that—he made no
reply—I searched him, and found one shilling, a sixpence, and a halfpenny—I asked his name and address—he said, "You can find that the same as you found me"—he gave his name at the station, but no address.
Prisoner's Defence. I received 2s. for my work. I got the half-crown in change for a crown.
He was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence at this Court in July, 1865, to which he PLEADED GUILTY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD and COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN EDWARD GROOM . I am barman at the Queen's Arms, 62, Charlotte Street, Fitzroy Square—on 30th November, about 3.15, the prisoner and another woman came in—I served them with two glasses of stout—the prisoner gave me a shilling—I gave her the change, and put it by itself on the outside of the till, as I was talking to a friend—five minutes after they were gone I found it was bad—I gave it to the potman, Blowers, who put it on the hob, and it dissolved in five minutes—on 1st December, about 4.45, the prisoner came again, with the same woman, for two glasses of six ale, for which the prisoner paid with a shilling—I told her it was bad—she said that she did not know it was bad—I said, "You gave me one yesterday, and I shall give you in custody"—she said, "I gave you a sixpence, not a shilling, on Monday"—I gave them both in custody.
Prisoner. I gave you a sixpence on Monday, and you gave me twopence change. Witness. That is not true—I did not put the shilling into the till and take it out again.
THOMAS BLOWERS . I am potman at the Queen's Arms—on Monday, 30th November, I saw the prisoner and another woman in the bar; Groom served them—after they had gone, Groom showed me a shilling—I put it on the hob, and it melted immediately—I was in the bar next day, cleaning the windows, and saw the prisoner come in again—they had two glasses of ale, and put down a shilling—I ran out for a policeman—the other woman was discharged by the Magistrate.
SAMUEL CONOLLY (Policeman E R 36). On 1st December, I took the prisoner and another woman at the Queen's Arms—she said she was very sorry; she did not know the coin was bad—a good shilling, a purse, and two keys were found on her—I received the other shilling from Groom—the other woman was discharged.
GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BRICH . I keep the North Star public-house, Heston—on 27th November, the prisoners came in a little pony cart—Brown asked for a pint of ale and a cigar, which came to fourpence—Brown gave me a crown, and
I gave him four shillings and twopence change—he said, "You have not given me enough by sixpence, and I gave him another sixpence—I put the crown in my pocket, where there was no other—they both drank of the ale, and left saying, "We shall call and see you another day"—next morning, I found the crown was bad, and gave it to the policeman.
JAMES HARRIS . I live with my parents, who keep the Forresters' Arms Heston—on 27th November, the prisoners came in a pony cart—one of them asked for a pint of ale, which came to threepence; they both drank of it—Brown gave me a crown, saying, "I hope you can change it, miss"—I took it to my mother, who gave me four shillings and sixpence, which I gave to Brown, with threepence—Humphreys was warming himself in the tap room, and Brown asked him if he should give the pony some ale—he said, "No;" but they afterwards went out and gave the pony some—they both got into the cart, and went towards Shepherd's Bush.
MARY ANN HARRIS . I am the mother of the last witness—she gave me a crown on 27th November—I put it in my pocket, and gave her four shillings and sixpence—I had no other crown there—about an hour afterwards I found it was bad, and gave it to the police sergeant.
WILLIAM MUCKLOW . I keep the White Horse, Shepherd's Bush—on 27th November, about 7.30, Brown came in and asked for some rum, which came to threepence—he took it out to Humphreys, who was in the cart—Brown paid me with a bad crown, and when he came back with the measure and glass I told him it was bad—he called out, "Sam, the landlord says this is a bad 5s. piece"—Sam then came in (that was Humphreys)—he asked me to let him have a look at it—I said, "No"—I put a good one by the side of it, and said, "See the difference"—Humphreys then said, "Yes, I believe it to be a bad one—I asked Brown if he had got any more bad money about him—he put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a lot of shillings, sixpences, and copper—I said, "It seems strange to me that you should change a 5s. piece when you have got all that change"—he said, "It was the largest, and it came out first, I suppose"—I gave them in custody with the crown—the pony and cart were sent to the Green Yard—next morning, I received a bag from my ostler, Fielder.
JOHN FIELDER . I am ostler at the White Horse—on the morning of 28th November, I found this black bag in one of the hay cribs—I saw some loose money in it, and took it to Mr. Mucklow—I saw both the prisoners the night before, eight or nine yards from the crib—the pony did not eat out of the crib.
GEORGE BROWN (Policeman T 18). I saw the prisoners in the White Horse, at 12.30, with another young man, who was in a pony-cart—they drove away towards Heston—I saw them again at 8 o'clock at night, in the Uxbridge Road, with the same horse and cart, but did not see the third party—I saw them in custody about 8.15 or 8.20.
WILLIAM STANLEY (Policeman A R 419). Mr. Mucklow gave the prisoner into my custody, and gave me this crown—I found on Brown a half-crown, a crown, a sixpence, 6d. in copper, and a box of ointment—I received this bad crown from Birch, and the other from Mary Ann Harris—I saw the prisoners with a horse and cart, which we took to the Green Yard, and which have been claimed by Mr. Richards, of Bethnal Green.
EDMUND BARTON (Policeman A R 424). I searched Humphrey and found three florins, sixteen shillings, ten sixpences, and 1s. in copper, all good—I searched the court outside, and found this yellow medal (produced).
Humphreys' Defence. I was quite innocent of what this man was doing; I had no knowledge of him; he asked me to give him a ride, and I did so—he said, "If you will drive us to Hounslow, you will get 5s. each for bringing us.
COURT to WILLIAM MUCKLOW. Q. Do you know whether either of the men went out to the cart after you had pointed out that the money was bad? A. Yes; Humphreys went out and pushed my man away from the head; I am not aware that he was out of my sight after that—I did not see him go to the crib, but there was just room for him to pass between the pony's head and the crib.
GUILTY .— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment each .
MESSRS. COLERIDGE and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WOOD Defended Gray.
ELIZA BRUTIE . I am the wife of William Brutie, who keeps the Combermere, at Old Ford—on 3rd December the prisoners came—Webb asked for a pint of half-and-half, and tendered a shilling—I put down sixpence and fourpence in change—Gray said that it was her money, as he allowed her 2s. a day—I put the shilling with the farthings—Webb asked me for a biscuit, which came to a penny—he gave me a shilling, I bit it and said that it was bad, and I believed he knew it—he said that he did not, and Gray said, "The idea of you saying it is a bad one, we know nothing about it"—they gave me a penny for the biscuit—I took the first shilling from the till, bit it, and found it was bad—I gave the two shillings to my husband—the prisoners went just outside.
Webb. I did not give the first shilling. Witness. I cannot say which of you laid it down.
WILLIAM BRUTIE . I keep the the Lord Combermere—I went after the prisoners, caught them twenty yards from the shop, and gave then in charge—they were side by side—I marked the shillings, and gave them to the officer.
GEORGE WAITE (Policeman K 540). I was called to Mr. Brutie's house and found the prisoners detained there—he gave them in custody of another policeman—I searched Webb and found on him two good shillings, 7d. in copper, and two medals which they use at the fish market.
WILLIAM GORDON (Policeman K 402). On Thursday evening, 3rd December, I found the prisoners detained at Mr. Brutie's house—they were given into my custody—I told them the charge, and asked them if they were man and wife—Gray said, "All right, Bill, you have done nothing, it was me"—the female searcher handed the inspector in my presence 9s. 6d. in silver, and 1s. 2d. in coppers—Mr. Brutie gave me these two shillings (produced).
Cross-examined. Q. Do you know that she is the wife of another man? A. I do not.
Webb's Defence. I met Mrs. Gray, who knew me, and offered to treat me. She paid for some half-and-half. I picked up the 10d. change, and said, "I will keep this till I see you again." She said, "Give me my money." I did
so. She had given me a shilling previously, with which I paid for a biscuit, and the woman said that it was bad.
The Prisoners received good characters.
WEBB— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
GRAY— GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment .
DACE PLEADED GUILTY , having been before convicted, in 1864**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. COLERIDGE conducted the Prosecution.
ALFRED BALL . I keep the Nag's Head, 111, St John Street, Clerkenwell—on 3rd December, about 10.30, Styles came in with another man, at one door, and Dace at another door—Styles called for a half quartern of rum and tendered a bad florin—I told him it was bad, and gave it back to him—he said that he was a hard-working man, and took it near London Bridge—he paid me with 3d. in coppers—he left with the other man—Dace had a pint of beer in another compartment—there was a partition between them—he paid with a good sixpence, and as he was leaving he asked me if the men were trying to pass bad money—I said, "Yes"—shortly afterwards I went into the Pewter Platter, two doors off, and saw them all three given into custody there—to the best of my knowledge this is the florin I bent and returned to him.
Styles. You say I paid in coppers, but I did not; my friend paid. Witness. You had not enough to pay the 3d., and you made it up between you—the other man drank with you—he has gone.
WILLIAM REPPER . I keep the Pewter Platter—on 3rd December, the prisoners came in—Dace called for a pot of beer—another man came in directly, and they all three drank of the beer—one of them gave me a florin; I gave him 1s. 8d. change—it felt light—I examined it and told him it was bad—he said, "Let me look at it"—I asked him for the change back—he gave me one shilling and two sixpences, and turned to Styles, and said, "You gave me this"—it was not bent when I received it, or marked, that I am aware of—Styles said that he took it over London Bridge, I think—Ball then came in and said, "Halloa, are they trying the dodge on with you?"—I said, "Yes"—he said, "They have just been into my place—the prisoners said they were hard-working men, and could not afford to lose it—I asked Dace for the florin—he gave it to me, and I gave it to the constable—I went to the station, and Dace said, "If you charge me I will make it hot for you"—they were all given in custody.
Styles produced a written defence, stating that he knew where he took the bad money, and would have taken it back if he had not been given in charge.
STYLES— NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT.—Monday, December 14th, 1868.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS GILDER . I am a stationer, at 155, Clarendon Road, Noting Hill—on 15th October, the prisoner came to my shop, and asked for a Telegraph newspaper—he gave me a bad shilling—I said it would not do for me—I asked him what his name was, and he said, "George Dawson," and lived in Long Acre—he then offered me a good shilling, and I refused it—I gave him into custody, and gave the coin to the constable.
JOHNSON DELL (Policeman X R 33). On 15th October, the prisoner was given into my custody by the last witness, and I received this bad shilling from him—I searched the prisoner, and found a good shilling—he was charged at the Police Court, remanded, and discharged.
CHARLOTTE LOUISA WATKINS . I live at 166, Fulham Road, and keep a post office—on 24th November, the prisoner came and asked for 6s. 1d. worth of postage stamps—he paid with two shillings, a florin, and a bad half-crown—the other money was good—I said, "This is bad"—he said, "Are you sure?"—I said, "Yes, I am, and it is not the first time you have been in here with money that is bad"—he said it was the first time—I said, "You passed a bad shilling about three weeks ago"—he said he was never in the shop before—he said he would go and fetch his master—I told him he had better take the 4s.—he went away, but left the 4s.—I put the money together in a drawer—on 28th November, the prisoner came again—he said, "I came to purchase some postage stamps on Monday, and left 4s. behind me—I called my master, and the prisoner was given into custody—I gave the half-crown to 362 T.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY WOOD . I am a pawnbroker, of 7, St George's Street, St George's,—on Tuesday, 1st December, about 6.45, I saw the prisoner with a female and another man, down a gateway—I watched them—I saw the other man open a packet of coins, and give some to the prisoner and some to the female—the woman went into a baker's shop, next door—I saw her come out again and join the prisoner and the other man—I went into the baker's shop, and said something to Mrs. Goldsmith—the three of them were there when I came out—I laid hold of the prisoner—the others got away—I asked the prisoner what coins he had in his possession—I had seen them in his hands—they were wrapped up separately in paper—the prisoner put them down on the bar of the beer-shop where I had him, he said nothing about them—I gave him into the custody of 460 K—there were four coins wrapped in paper, and one out of the paper—I gave the coins to the constable.
91, St. George's Street,—he is a baker—on Tuesday, the 1st December, about 7.30, a woman came to my shop, and asked for a pound of bread—she gave me a bad shilling—I bent it, and gave it her back again—she went out of the shop, and almost immediately after Mr. Wood came in.
GEORGE HICKMER (Policeman K 460). My attention was called to the prisoner, by Mr. Wood—he said that the prisoner had got counterfeit coins in his possession, and he asked me to examine the coins—the prisoner was present—I examined the coins, and found they were all bad—I asked the prisoner how he came to have the coins in his possession—he said that a man came up and asked him to hold them—I took him to the station.
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not know they were counterfeit."
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
WALTER EDWARDS . I am assistant to Mr. Pedler, 199, Fleet Street—On Monday, 30th November, the prisoner came into the shop—I served her with a seidlitz powder—that was 11/2d—she paid with a bad shilling—I handed it to Mr. Whysall, another assistant—the shilling was broken and given back to her.
WILLIAM WHYSALL . I am assistant to Mr. Pedler—on Saturday, 5th December, the prisoner came in and asked for three pennyworth of lozenges—she paid with a bad florin—I then told her I recognized her as coming in on 30th November, and said I should give her in charge—she said she had never been in the shop before—I called a constable, and gave her into custody.
GEORGE HUBBARD (City Policeman 420). I took the prisoner into custody at Mr. Pedler's shop—I took her to the station, and she was searched—I found 13l. 4d., and five duplicates on her—I received a bad florin from the last witness.
Prisoner's Defence. I have a witness to prove I was not in the shop on the 5th.
THOMAS BIRCH . I was with the prisoner on the Monday, and walked with her as far as the Elephant and Castle; she came home about 11 o'clock in the forenoon—I was with her till near 7 o'clock at night.
COURT to EDWARDS. Q. What time did the prisoner come into your shop? A. Between 7 and 8 o'clock in the evening.
GUILTY *— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
BAKER PLEADED GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN BOARDMAN . I am a cart-minder, in Billingsgate Market—on 4th December, about 9 o'clock, I saw the two prisoners together—I saw Baker pass something to Claxton at the corner of Fish Street Hill; Claxton then went into the Albion coffee-shop—I made a communication to Mr. Harvey, and he followed Claxton into the Albion—I then spoke to the officer, Morey, and pointed Baker out to him—he was taken into custody—I then went to the coffee-shop and gave Claxton into custody—I was watching them together for about twenty minutes—I saw a coin given to Harvey at the coffee-shop.
HARRIET HALE . I am a waitress at the Albion coffee-shop—on the morning of 4th December, Claxton came in—he asked for a half-pint of coffee, and paid with a bad shilling—I gave it to Harvey when he came in, and Claxton was given into custody—the prisoner said he did not know the shilling was bad; I had not said anything about its being bad to him before he said that.
LUKE MOSELY (City Police Sergeant 55). I was called to the coffee-shop, and took Claxton into custody, and received this bad shilling—Claxton said he had earned it at Billingsgate, carrying fish—I took him to the station.
Prisoner's Defence. I earned the shilling honestly at the market; I did not know it was bad.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. GRAIN conducted the Prosecution.
FREDERICK MUNCEY . I live at 47, Markham Street, Westminster—the prisoner came to my shop on the 27th October, about 1.30, and asked for a half-pound of soap, which was 2 1/2 d.—he paid with a bad florin—I showed it to my mother, and she gave it to a constable in the prisoner's presence.
ISAAC MUNCEY . I live at 47, Markham Street, Westminster—I went into my shop on the afternoon of the 27th, and found my wife and the prisoner there—she gave me a bad florin, and I gave the prisoner into custody, and gave the florin to the constable.
HENRY POSTERN (Policeman B R 50). I was called to the shop of the last witness, and the prisoner was given into my custody—I received this bad shilling (produced) from the last witness—the prisoner said he did not know it was bad—he was taken to the Westminster Police Court, remanded, and discharged on 2nd November—he gave his name Charles Williams.
ANN WAGHORN . I keep the Palmerston public-house, Hampstead Road—the prisoner came to my house on 3rd November, and tendered a bad shilling—I asked him how many more he had of those, without telling him it was bad—he said, "None"—I called my husband—the prisoner ran to the door, and my husband brought him back—a constable was called, and I gave him the shilling.
JOHN REED (Policeman S R 21). On 3rd November the prisoner was given into my custody at the house of the last witness—I received this bad shilling from Mr. Wentworth—the prisoner was remanded at Marylebone, and discharged on the 5th, in the name of William Lucy.
WILLIAM JAMES BLAKEMAN . I am the son of William Blakeman—on Saturday, 14th November, the prisoner came into my father's house, about 4.30—I served him with a glass of sixpenny ale—he gave me a bad florin—I showed it to my father—I remember seeing the prisoner in the house about
WILLIAM BLAKEMAN . I keep the Queen's Head, Oxford Street—my son made a communication to me, and gave me a bad florin—I sent for a constable, and the prisoner was given in charge—I had seen the prisoner in my house previous to that; he then offered me a bad half-crown—I spoke to him about it, and called a constable, but did not give him in charge—I kept the half crown; I gave that to the constable on the 14th.
JAMES MIDDLETON . I went to Mr. Blakeman's on the 14th—the prisoner was given into my custody—I received a bad florin from Mr. Blakeman—I asked the prisoner if he had any more about him, and he mid "No"—I found a good half-crown on him—I gave the florin up at the station.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment .
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, December 15th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
(103). HENRY HODGES (18) , PLEADED GUILTY to feloniously forging and uttering an endorsement to an order for 19l. 1s. with intent to defraud; also to stealing, in the warehouse of Louis Henry Lyons and another, a watch and chain, his property.
Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
(104). ERNEST FINDEN (27) , Unlawfully appropriating to his own use and benefit ten casks of oil, with which he had been entrusted as agent for Frederick William Begbie. Second Count, as agent for Charles Bullen Davis.
MR. LEIGH conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON the Defence.
FREDERICK WILLIAM BEGBIE . I live at 13, Great St. Helen's, and am an oil merchant—the prisoner is a war finger, carrying on business at Albany Wharf, as Finden & Co., Limited, but I believe there is no limit—on 10th June I bought ten casks of paraffin oil of Messrs Mordaunt Brothers, which were lying at the defendant's wharf—I got the delivery order on the 24th, this is a copy of it—the prisoner has had notice to produce the original—I lodged it myself in the letter box at his wharf—about three days after, on 1st July, he called at my office—he said, "I am very sorry I was not at the wharf when you called to see the oil and receive your sample. I sent you a sample"—I produced it—he gave me this gauge note, two or three days afterwards—he said it was the gauge note of my oil—I afterwards sold that oil to Mr. Davis, about 12th September—on 6th October, I saw the prisoner again—I said "Mr. Finden, this is a very serious matter about my oil, the casks being emptied and taken away"—he said, "We have used part of the oil to fill up three other merchant's casks. I shall receive the money for it in a few days, and will pay you"—he said "The quantity used was about sixty gallons"—I said, "That is nonsense, when your foreman informed Mr. Davis that the casks were nearly emptied for that purpose"—he said, "The more money therefore I shall have to receive for it from Messrs. Mordaunt's, Browning's, and another firm—the last two firms I did not hear distinctly—I thought one was Browning's—I said "Well, as a
wharfinger, you had no more right to use my oil than I have to pick a man's pocket, and I intend to apply to the Magistrate at 11 o'clock next morning for redress"—he said, "In that case you may do your best or your worst"—a week before I had written to him to explain what had become of the oil, and he had taken no notice—I went to the wharf three separate times, and was denied admittance by a man who opened the door with a chain up—on 29th September I obtained admittance by a back entrance—I found two men rolling out empty casks, and I noticed between forty and fifty casks there—I examined them all and could not find one cask of my mark amongst them; the premises were quite empty in other respects.
Q. From your experience as an oil merchant, will paraffin oil, or not, keep for several months at a wharf without injury? A. At all other wharfs I have never had a case of leakage—there is no difficulty in keeping it to order, we might lose about a gallon a cask, in hot weather, in two or three months—when the prisoner called upon me, on 2nd July, he told me that the casks were perfectly sound and in good order, and capable of standing the weather, and if I desired to leave them any time there, he would have the greatest care taken of them for me—the vendor is not here—the prisoner told me they were part of 200 casks.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been in the oil business? A. About two years and a half; on my own account, not more than three months—I was with an oil broker—paraffin is more volatile than any other oil, it percolates through the wood to a slight extent; the longer time it remains in the cask, of course, the more it percolates through—it is generally put in casks that have been used before, not in new casks, they are not so good as the American petroleum casks—it is generally put in those casks—I know that there were about 25, 000 casks of oil at Plaistow Wharf last summer—I believe they are kept in sheds, or vaults, chiefly under ground, to preserve them from the sun—they never put them in the sun—it is not taken out of the casks and kept in tanks at the wharfs; that is done in retail shops, to avoid the loss in tapping—there was no one present when I had the conversation with the prisoner—I met him on the causeway—I had previously been to the wharf and seen between forty and fifty petroleum casks, apparently empty—I hare never seen the prisoner's foreman, Mr. Harris, in reference to this matter; I could never find him—the prisoner said that in hot weather the casks would leak a good deal, and I said, "It is your duty to keep your cooperage, you are paid for it"—I understood that the 200 casks had been there about three weeks before I bought mine—I have had oil at Mellish's wharf, but never knew a cask to leak out; I have known it to lose a gallon or two—I am not aware that they put it in tanks there.
MR. LEIGH Q. Although paraffin is more volatile than some heavier oils, is there any difficulty in keeping it at a wharf? A. None whatever; it is not nearly so volatile as spirits at high proof—it does not so much lose by evaporation, but it is so insidious, that it goes through the pores of the wood, but it would take two or three years for a cask to empty itself from the pores, unless it had an accident.
CHARLES BULLEN DAVIS . I live at 5, Wren Road, Camberwell Green, and am an oil merchant—in September last I received this delivery order (produced by the prisoner) for eleven casks of oil that I purchased of Mr. Begbie—I lodged it at Finden & Co.'s office, in Crosby Hall Chambers, on 15th September, with the clerk, and they promised I should have it gauged
—I afterwards gave certain instructions to my carman, but I got no oil—I sent him three times—I have never received any part of it—I afterwards went to the wharf; the foreman let me in, I believe his name is Harris—I saw some empty barrels there; I am quite sure they were empty, because I turned them over—three of them were certainly marked "J M S," which was the mark on the barrels I bought—I paid Mr. Begbie 20l. on account—it is always customary in the oil trade to pay on account in the first transaction, when you receive the delivery order—there is no difficulty whatever in keeping paraffin oil at a wharf—I had some lying at Plaistow Wharf longer—heat will make it sweat, but not to the extent of bursting a cask—I have known it kept for two years at Plaistow Wharf, without injury—I speak from my experience as a merchant—I have been in business since 1864, and I think I understand the business thoroughly—no doubt exposure to the sun would increase the leakage, but it is the duty of the wharfinger to see that the barrels are in good condition, and that they are kept so—they are mostly put into sheds—I should say the barrels I saw were good barrels; there was nothing in their appearance to lead me to suppose they were leaky; they were as good as the ordinary run of them.
Cross-examined. Q. You say it might be kept two years; I suppose that would depend upon the sort of barrels they are in? A. It would in some measure—there are plenty at Plaistow Wharf, that have been there two years—I don't think that keeping them in vaults would make a great difference—I don't think there is any necessity for that; they put them in covered sheds—I don't think they have any vaults at Plaistow Wharf, and I have been there fifty times.
STEPHEN MCGUIRE . I am a carman, and live in Alfred Street, Millwall—on Friday, the 18th, I went to Albany Wharf by direction of my master, Mr. Lyne—I don't know what month it was in—I did not see anyone at the wharf—I went to the foreman's house and saw the foreman—I gave the order, but got nothing, and came back without anything.
WILLIAM LYNE . I am a carman, of 20, Albert Street, Millwall—I work for Mr. Davis—I received directions from him about the 16th or 17th September, in consequence of which I gave directions to McGuire to go to the wharf—I gave him a written order for the delivery of the oil—he brought the order back—I destroyed it.
WILLIAM ADAMS (Policeman K 34). In consequence of information, I went on 27th September, about 11.45 at night, to 28, Cottage Street, Poplar—I found a van had been drawn up at the door, and in the back yard I found five casks of paraffin oil, and eleven empty casks—I found a man named Blank, who lived in the house, and took him to the station, and likewise a man who worked for Mr. Finden—I detained them there until I communicated with Mr. Finden next morning—he came to the Poplar station, and stated that he had given his men orders to move the oil from the wharf, but he did not intend him to remove it on the Sunday night—the two men were then discharged—the prisoner saw the men at the station—I had taken them because I thought it might have been property stolen from the wharf—the casks were all marked that I saw—I remember one mark was 1705—I don't know the letters—that was a full cask—I afterwards went to the wharf—I saw thirteen full casks there, and a quantity of empties.
MR. RIBTON called the following Witnesses for the Defence.
GEORGE HARRIS . I was foreman at Albany Wharf—the defendant opened! that wharf in August, 1867—from that time up to September this year, I should think 5000 or 6000 barrels of paraffin oil have been delivered there—this is the first complaint that I have ever heard—I have been foreman there all the time—in May last 200 barrels were removed from the Avon Carron steamer, marked "J. M. S."—they were originally consigned to Butterworth & Son—they were removed from the steamer in a lighter, to the wharf—I was at the wharf when they were removed—the whole of them were in a very bad condition—I pumped out two barrels and a half of oil from the lighter, which had leaked out of the casks—they were old barrels, and had been used twenty or thirty times previously—they buy them for 2s. 6d. each, and send them over to Scotland—sometimes the oak heads of the casks are destroyed, and fir heads put in instead—the oil gets through the fir more easily than through the oak—some of those 200 barrels had fir heads and some had not—they were a mixture, I expect—they were consigned by Butterworth & Son to different parties—they were all delivered but ten barrels, taken by different parties—I can't exactly tell when they were delivered—it was somewhere about the end of August, and early in September the prisoner went to Margate, and was there three weeks, I think, on and off—I managed the business at the wharf in his absence, and Mr. Blenkinson at the office in Bishopsgate—the ten barrels were on the premises during that time—they were in a bad state—I had to pump out four of them into different barrels, to preserve the oil, or else we should not have had any of it—I put it into empty barrels—the other six are there—there are ten there, four that I pumped out, and the remaining six—they are all still on the wharf—I should think there is hardly 100 gallons in them now—it has been leaking out ever since, on and off—I did not tell Mr. Davis, or Mr. Begbie, that they were there still—I did not see Mr. Begbie—I saw Mr. Davis—I did not satisfy him that the casks were there still—he had not brought any order, and the brokers were in at the time—I did not write to satisfy him—I did not know him—he had no order, and I had no order concerning him—there was no delivery order lodged with me in his name—I had never seen it—that was my reason for my not telling him anything about it—Mr. Finden was away at Margate at this time, I think—I am not positive he told me he was going there—he came up sometimes—I can't say whether he was out of London or in it at the time—I can only tell you as he told me, that he was going to Margate—I did not see him at the wharf—the brokers were in at the time I removed the oil—I removed it to save it—paraffin oil generally leaks out very much—if a hoop falls off it will empty itself in four hours—there was a hoop off one of those ten—the brokers left the wharf on the Saturday morning—I had orders to clear everything out by 12 o'clock on Monday—Mr. Finden came up and told us to take the oil out anywhere until he could make arrangements—the ten barrels marked "J. M. S." are now on Kent's Tar Wharf, in Upper North Street, adjoining the Albany Wharf—we are frequently obliged to cooper casks anew, to prevent their leaking—these 200 barrels were always being coopered.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you say that the whole of the 200 barrels were in very bad order? A. Yes, all of them had leaked very badly—as bad as they could be—the staves were not rotten—it was the jolting that started
the casks—I can swear positively to the ten casks of Mr. Begbie's being in that condition—all of them were, including his—no part of Mr. Begbie's oil had been used—I will swear that I did not use it—no part of it was used to fill up the casks of other persons—I will take my oath of that—I had some conversation with Mr. Davis—I did not tell him that any of his casks were empty—he came and said there were ten barrels of oil marked "J. M. S."—I asked him for his order, he had not got it—I told him there were some empty casks over the way, which had been made up, and those empties were Mr. Browning's, who had 100 of them—Mr. Browning's orders were that we were to make his up out of his own oil—the remainder that he had—I did not satisfy Mr. Davis whether those were his—I did not tell him his casks were empty—I told him there were some empties, and he went and up-headed them—I did not point them out—I should say there were 100 empties, fifty for Hawkins and nearly 100 for Browning—they had been delivered and the empties returned—I was with the prisoner when he opened the wharf, and have been with him ever since—I have not heard of any complaints—perhaps a merchant will come and ask how it is there has been some extra leakage—we have had some complaints, but not what you would term complaints—I have not heard of any—I know the firm of Billing & Sons, they dealt with us—they were oil merchants—I know they made a complaint—they asked how it was there were so many ullages—they gave Mr. Finden in custody on the charge of stealing their oil—when I said there were no complaints, I thought you meant any complaints about those 200—I know Messrs. Billing gave him in charge, but they could not uphold it—I don't know of any complaint from Mordaunt Brothers—I never heard of any—I heard Butterworth's have made a complaint, all of them will halloa out about a gallon of oil—we have had the weather extremely hot, and of course that has acted upon the oil.
MR. RIBTON Q. Were any of those 200 casks sold to Browning? A. Yes; 100—the charge Messrs. Billing made was afterwards abandoned—the prisoner commenced an action against them—he told me so, for false imprisonment—persons are always complaining of the leakage, but there is hardly any heed taken of it; it is only just a few words, and it is all over.
COURT. Q. Had Mordaunts some casks at your place? A. Yes—none of the oil from the ten barrels was poured into his—it is not true that Mr. Mordaunt had to pay my master for oil put into his casks: I should think not: of course I can't answer for anything between him and Mr. Mordaunt privately—I swear that none of this oil was poured into Mordaunt's casks—I can answer for that—I was on the wharf all the while—I don't remember any of Mr. Mordaunt's own oil being poured in to fill up the casks; and I will swear there was none of anybody else's.
CHARLES WIGGINS . I am a lighterman, in the employ of Mr. Bromley—on 19th May last I moved 200 barrels of paraffin oil from the Carron Steam Co.'s vessel Avon to Albany Wharf—some of them were leaking at the time, and when I arrived at the wharf there was, I should say, from two to three barrels pumped out of the lighter; they took it ashore—I have had a good deal of experience in paraffin oil; it leaks very much in hot weather—these were not full when I received them—of course, it leaks more or less according to the quality of the cask—they are old casks re-coopered.
JOHN ADDLE . I was under foreman to the defendant—I remember these 200 barrels being delivered in May last—they were in a very bad state, indeed—I helped to pump out the oil from the bottom of the barge, which
had leaked from the barrels; there was about two and a-half barrels of it—I observed these 200 barrels afterwards; they were leaking—I helped to cooper them many times; we could not stop them, anyhow—I watered them twice a day to keep them cool—10 of those barrels remain; 190 were delivered to various parties—I don't know to how many, but, I dare say, to five or six different parties—the ten barrels remained there three or four months after the last were delivered; the ten barrels are there now—it is not customary to fill up barrels that are leaking from others—we don't do that unless a customer orders it; it is done sometimes to preserve the oil—complaints are always being made about short measure, the casks leak so much—I never knew barrels arrive full—I have used many a pound of soap to stop the leakage of these barrels; I used more to these 200 than we ever did to any others—it was green wood, not fit to hold water—I remember the brokers being there; the defendant was not at the wharf at that time; he went away somewhere—I can't give the exact date of the brokers coming in—it was on a Monday; I can't say the month—they were in eight days—Mr. Davis came there while they were in—we could not allow him to remove anything then; they told us we should not be allowed to deliver anything—I told that to Mr. Davis, at least, I believe the foreman did—he spoke to him; I did not—the ten barrels of oil are now on the wharf adjoining—they were never moved from Albany Wharf till they were removed to the next wharf; it was by direction of the landlord that the wharf was to be cleared—no oil was removed from four of the casks—I don't recollect any oil being pumped out of any of the casks—the ten casks are there now—I should think there is 100 gallons in them now; they are leaking still—we durst not go to cooper them now; of course, we have not since they have been removed—they don't require it, now the weather is different.
Cross-examined. Q. You don't mean that the ten casks you speak of as being now in existence are the identical ten casks that Mr. Begbie bought? A. Yes; I do—when casks are landed, we usually drive them up to tighten them—all casks are liable to leak more or less after a voyage.
COURT. Q. Are any of those ten barrels empty? A. No; not one of them—I am certain of that—I could not swear for the quantity they contain; they hold thirty-five or thirty-six gallons, when full—I should think they contain now 100 gallons or more—I do not say for certain they all run equal—I believe I helped to haul them over.
MARK DARGE . I have been engaged at the Colonial Wharf a great many years—I have had great experience in paraffin oil—it leaks, no matter what precaution you take—we do not treat it at all at our wharf unless we have orders to do so; we allow it to leak on unless we get orders to cooper, because the merchants will not pay unless they give us orders—we tell them on landing, and we generally get orders to cooper—it will leak out, whether we cooper or not—fir wood will not hold it at all; neither will anything else; nothing will hold it—the floors where we keep it are saturated with oil—we have stored it, but gave it up because we get other stuff to pay us better—the merchants always complain of the leakage, but we simply said we did not care much for it and they might send it somewhere else—we don't take it at all now—I have never been given into custody for taking the oil that leaked.
COURT. Q. Did you ever pour it out of one cask into another? A. No; I have never been ordered to do so.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
ROBERT ARDLEY . I am clerk to some navy agents, and live at 29, Leighton Road—during the four years I have been possessed of those premises I have become acquainted with Mr. Pyke's handwriting—this letter, of 26th September, 1868, is his writing; I received it by post—it is a registered letter.
(This was the alleged libel. It was very long and incoherent, alleging a conspiracy on the part of the prosecutor and others to ruin the defendant and his family, and alluding to various acts of trespass and injury done to his garden wall.)
Prisoner. Q. How many notices have you received from me? A. I should think about four—the first was in 1866, followed by others up to September 26, this year—we have not been living on terms of cordiality with the exception of this question of right—I have always tried to keep the peace with you, and I have found it impossible—my feeling has not been excited solely by these notices, there have been an immense number of other grounds—I was not asked before the Magistrate whether my feelings had been injured or insulted by you—I did not state that I was unable to give any instance—I am one of the trustees of the Wesleyan chapel in Lady Margaret's Road—I have not seen any of your notices to the trustees, warning them of various trespasses on property in Kentish Town, in which you were interested—it is a well known fact that you write to everybody, claiming everything, the ground on which our chapel is built, among the rest; but that is a question that you can fight with St. John's College, whenever you please; the ground belongs to them—you complain, in one of your letters, that I cut off some of your flowers—I received a letter from you, dated 21st September, five days previous to the present one—(looking at several papers) these were not sent to you by me, they were sent by my solicitors, Messrs. Walker, they are signed by their manager, Mr. Cooper, they were written by my authority—one of those documents was for your signature, you refused to sign it, and hence the present proceeding—I dare say I have seen this placard before—it was put up by me—you and Mrs. Pyke first of all tarred my wall, and I put up that, and the result of it was, that Mrs. Pyke black-leaded the wall—I am the proprietor of the wall—on 20th October, I took out two summonses against you and your wife, for painting my wall—they were dismissed—this paper of yours is not a fair statement of the case before the Magistrate, it is very unfair, inasmuch as Mr. Mansfield most distinctly stated that he could not interfere in the question of rights, so he decided and confirmed the previous question of right—you asked me afterwards to go home and dine with you, and I indignantly refused, after the treatment I had received at your hands—you put glass and cement on the wall one night, and I knocked it off intentionally—if you consider you have a right to the wall, I am perfectly prepared to meet you in a Civil Court, but upon that wall you shall put nothing—I wrote you this letter of 26th September, reqesting you to remove some wood that you had most improperly placed on the wall, and your answer to that was the alleged libel—I have not defaced your wall or balcony, or sitting or drawing room—I have recoloured the side of your
house that overlooks my kitchen—I have not scooped out the mortar, or injured or defaced it in any way—there have not been mebs collected in consequence of this placard—I had a right to stick up what I pleased on my own walls—I have not dug up the foundation of your side wall—I have a right to make any alteration I please—it has not affected your side of the house—I don't remember saying that if you interfered I would settle you in a brace of shakes, possibly I might—I did not receive this paper as a warning and notice not to injure the wall—I was in possession of the house some months prior to the trial of the case of "Pyke and Crane"—I was not thoroughly conversant with the nature of that trial—I saw a report of it in the newspaper, but I don't remember it—I am not aware that an action has been brought against Mr. Keen, a bricklayer, for doing the same to the wall that I have done—I am not aware that it is now pending.
In the Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate, and also in a very long Defence, he represented that, having purchased property in the neighbourhood, twenty-five year ago, it had been continually encroached upon, and his rights interfered with, and that it was to maintain those rights that he had been in the habit of issuing notices similar to the alleged libel, and not from any malicious or vindictive motive. He then called the following Witnesses:—
ANN LUCY PYKE . I know Mr. Crane—I also know Mr. Ardley, well—he informed me that he was a scripture reader at the workhouse, and that he attended there every Sunday afternoon—Mr. Crane and his wife are attendants at the Wesleyan chapel—Mr. Crane has been for years a guardian of the poor—the Wesleyan chapel schools are four doors from our house—I have seen the Miss Cranes at the school, acting as teachers, and have seen the children coming out on Sunday evenings, accompanied by the Miss Cranes—I do not think Mr. Ardley has anything to say against my father, with the exception of the notices.
Cross-examined by MR. BESLEY. Q. There has really been no intimacy between the families since 1866? A. Oh yes, there has—the intimacy ceased this summer, 1868.
GUILTY .— To enter into his own recognizances in 100l. to appear and receive Judgment when called upon.
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, 15th December, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
106. SARAH MACKINTOSH (34) , PLEADED GUILTY to unlawfully obtaining two loaves of bread, of the guardians of the poor of the parish of Shoreditch, by false pretences; also to unlawfully attempting to murder herself by swallowing oxalic acid— Six Months' Imprisonment on each Indictment, the sentences to run concurrently .
107. EDWARD HENRY LEVERETT (23) , to stealing six woollen shirts, of John Bagally and others, his masters; also, to stealing shirts and handkerchiefs of his said masters— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image] And
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY LYON . I live at 104, Portland Road, Nutting Hill—I have a son named Walter Henry—on 12th November I was sent for, and found him sitting in a chair, in the parlour of 172, Portland Road, bleeding profusely from a wound in his back—the floor of the room was completely covered with blood—I said to the prisoner, who was in the custody of a constable, "Why have you stabbed my son? why have you done this unkind act of stabbing my son, after his kindness to you?"—he said, "I am very sorry; I obeyed the impulse of the moment; I do not know why I did it"
WALTER HENRY LYON . I live with my father, who is a broker—on 3rd November I levied a distress on the prisoner's goods—my father condemned them on the 9th, but I agreed to give the prisoner time to pay—he promised to find the money on the same night, and on the 12th he paid 12s.—the balance was 17s. 6d., and he promised to give me an I O U for that—on the same evening, the 12th, I called at his place with an I O U, and asked him to sign it—he said, "I shall sign no I O U, and I shall not go"—I said that I should know what to do with him—he rose from his seat, where he was reading, and as I turned to come out I received a stab in the back—I saw a knife in his hand, but there was no knife in his hand when I asked him for the I O U—when he stabbed me he said, "Take that, there is the signature to your I O U."
Prisoner. What was the amount distrained for? Witness. £1; we arranged to allow you to take the things at the condemned price, which was a very low amount, and give an I O U for the balance of the expenses, and pay 6d. or 1s. a week, as you liked.
COURT. Q. What is the prisoner? A. A shoemaker—this is a shoemaker's knife—I am very slowly recovering; I cannot stoop.
ROBERT SHIP (Policeman X 141). On 20th November, about 3 o'clock, I went to 172, Portland Road, and saw the prisoner coming from the house—I stopped him and asked him what was the matter—he said, "I have stabbed a man, in the heat of passion, I am very sorry for it, I am going to the station to give myself up"—I said, "You must come back with me"—I took him to the house, and saw the prosecutor bleeding from a wound near the shoulder—I asked the prisoner where the knife was—he said "Up stairs in my room," and gave the key to a woman, who brought it down; and he said, "That is the one."
RICHARD JAMES . I am a surgeon, of 87, Clarendon Road—on 12th November I examined the prosecutor and found an incised wound on his back, just over the inner and upper corner of the shoulder blade—an artery was severed, which was bleeding profusely—it was a dangerous wound, just over the lung, but the lung was not wounded—he has been under my care ever since—he will recover perfectly—it could be inflicted with this knife.
Prisoner. Were you not asked if the wound was dangerous, and did you not reply that it was not? Witness. Yes, I did; I was justified in doing so, when my patient was bleeding and exhausted.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutor was put into my room for 1l. We came to an arrangement for me to pay 12s. and to repair a pair of boots. I paid the 12s., and in the morning he brought another pair for me to repair, which would make the amount 1l. 2s. 3d. He brought an I O U for
17s. 6d., which I refused to sign until he had shown me the rent-book, as I had then paid 19s. 6d. He refused to give any explanation, but said, "I shall know what to do." He picked up something from the floor and said, "I shall take all I can now, and distrain again." I had my knife in my hand, working on a boot, and I said, "Take that!" He cried murder. I did not intend to injure him to the extent I have done. I did it in consequence of his provoking way, and not arranging my affairs. I did not deliberate it, and had no idea a minute before that such a thing would occur.
COURT to W. H. LYON. Q. Is it true that you refused to let him see the book? A. No; I had no book—I did not refuse to let him see the accounts; everything had been explained by my father—the arrangement about the boots was with the landlord, and had nothing to do with me.
GUILTY of unlawfully wounding.— Nine Months' Imprisonment .
MR. CARTER conducted the Prosecution.
MARIA SIMMS . I am the wife of Alfred Simms, of Old Brentford—on 10th December, I went to bed at 9 o'clock—I was disturbed in the morning by hearing the striking of a lucifer down stairs, and heard footsteps below—I aroused my husband, lit a candle, went down and saw the prisoner standing with his back to the entrance door, inside—I said, "Oh, you wretch! what do you do here?"—he said, "I want a bushel of sprats from Mr. Dobson's, but I have come to the wrong house"—he had got a bushel basket, empty—I asked him how he got in—he said, "Through the window"—and so he had, for I found the curtain broken down and the shutters undone; they bad been pushed back and pushed to again—the door and window were shut the night before—my husband came down, we called the police, and the prisoner was given in custody—he had no appearance of drunkenness—nothing was disturbed in the room.
Prisoner. You told the Magistrate you fastened the shutter with a nail. Witness. I generally used to put a nail in the window, but I did not do so that night; it is a very slight bolt—I found the door unlocked and the key placed outside, on the bricks—I had left it inside over-night—I knew you by sight, but not by name.
MR. CARTER. Q. If the entry was made by the window, had the door been opened and the key put outside? A. Yes; my husband was down too quick for the prisoner to get away—it was just after I o'clock in the morning.
ALFRED SIMMS . My wife called me, lit a candle, and went down stairs—I followed her, and collared the prisoner, who was standing with his back to the street door, which was shut—I asked him how he came there—he said he had made a mistake, and come to the wrong house, he meant Dobson's house, after a bushel of sprats—he tried to get away once, while a neighbour was gone for a policeman—I saw the window closed the night before, with a slight bolt, and when I came down it was closed and the curtains drawn—the door had been opened, and the key put outside.
Prisoner. Did not you hesitate a good while before you gave me in charge? Witness. No—you tried to get away, and made a plunge, but I got you by the throat, and held you against the wall, while my wife called
the next door neighbour up—the door was closed, and the latch down and fastened; the key had been taken from the look and put outside before we came down stairs.
JOHN ROGERS (Policeman T R 44). I was on night duty, and was called at 1.15 or 1.20—I found the prisoner detained by Simms, in his house—I took him to the station, went back and examined the premises—I found the window blind, which fastens on each side, broken down and hanging by one end.; the shutters closed but not bolted, and a mark on them as if a strong nail or a knife had been forced between them—the key was lying against the wall outside—I found on the prisoner this knife, this piece of candle, and a penny—the prosecutor found three lucifers in the house.
Prisoner's Defence. A young man named Angel, who I think is a relation of these people, came to my house and asked me to go out to work with him. He said, "Call me up about I or 1.30, and we will get some sprats and sell them." He said that he lived at the second or third house on the left, and went there to have a lie down." I got half drunk. I knocked at the door, nobody answered, and by rattling the door it came half a-jar. I thought he must be drunk. I lit my pipe, and then saw the woman coming down stairs; she said, "What do you want here, you wretch?" I said, "I have come to see Angel." She said, "No; you have got in at the window." Even if she did fasten it, it is quite feasible that other people might open it as well as me. She knows that I am innocent, only there is some disagreement between me and her stater's husband. We have been fighting several times. I know the woman perfectly well, she is poorer than myself. Is it likely that I should break open a house where I knew I should find nothing?
He was further charged with having been convicted at Clerkenwell, in 1863, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. METCALFE Conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE LEGG (City Policeman 863). On 25th November, about 10.40, p.m., I was with Jenkinson in Bishopsgate Street, and saw the prisoners walking together—Butler was carrying a bundle over his shoulder—he turned and saw us following him—Clark ran away—I stopped Butler and said I was a police officer, and wanted to know what he had got in that bundle—he said he did not know—I said, "You must know"—he said, "Well I think it is cloth"—I said, "Where did you get it from?"—he said, "That man gave it to me," meaning Clark—I said "I must take you to the station"—he then kicked my ankles and I fell, but did not lose my hold of him—Jenkinson then came back, and we conveyed him to the station—I found in the bundle fifteen yards and a half of cloth winsey for dresses—the prisoners refused their addresses.
Butler. You were drunk when you fell. Witness. I was sober—you struggled very hard, and got my finger in your mouth and bit it.
THOMAS JENKINSON (City Policeman 641). I was with Legg; I followed Clark—he ran into Skinner Street—I caught him, he said, "What are you running after me for, I have got nothing"—I said, "What made you run, then?—he said, "I was not running out of your way"—I took him back to Legg,
and conveyed them both to the station—on the way Clark said, "I have got a bit under here," pointing to his waistcoat—I looked and found fifteen yards of linsey under his trousers, of the same kind as that in the bundle—Clark said that he and Butler were standing together in Bishopsgate Street, in the morning, and a gentleman traveller asked them to carry his parcels, that they went to the West End, and came back to the Elephant and Castle, and the traveller went into a shop for about an hour, and they lost sight of him.
Butler's Defence. The bundle was put into my hands to carry, and no man can say I am guilty of it.
Clark's Defence. I left Butler. He said, "Do not you run, or else I shall call out stop." I said, "What do you want?" He said, "I shall charge you with George Butler." I did not run away.
BUTLER— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court, in December, 1866, in the name of Thomas Brown, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
CLARK— GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment .
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1868.
Before Mr. Baron Cleasby.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution.
SUSAN SANSOM . I am a mid-wife in St. Pancras workhouse—on 2nd November, at 10 o'clock, the prisoner was brought to the lying-in ward—I said to her, "You have had a child"—she did not make any answer for some time, but when I told her I should send for a doctor, she said she had been confined—I asked her where her child was—she said in the coal cellar of her mistress's house; that she was taken ill suddenly, before her time, and the child was born dead.
EMMA PRESTON CRISP . I live at 18, Leighton Villas—the prisoner was in my mother's service; I live with her—on the night of 2nd November, about 9.10, I saw the prisoner looking very ill—I told her to sit still, and I would send my mother down to her, and I gave her some brandy and water—my mother had spoken to her before this, but not in my presence—she is not here.
SUSAN RICHARDSON . I am a ladies' nurse, and live at 13, Nelson Terrace, City Road—I was called in on 2nd November by Mrs. Crisp, who asked if I would assist her getting the prisoner into an institution, as she expected every moment she would be confined—I said to the prisoner, "Are you near your confinement?"—she said, "I have had a slight miscarriage; there will be no confinement"—I assisted her into a cab, and her mistress took her to the workhouse.
ERNEST THOMPSON EVANS . I am a surgeon—on the night of 2nd November, I was called to the lying-in ward of the workhouse, and there saw the prisoner—I made an examination, and found she had been confined within two hours—I asked her where the child was—she said, in the coal cellar of her mistress's house; that was all she said—I then went to the mistress's house, and went to the coal cellar, and found a child; it was naked, lying face downwards, with about three large pieces of coal (weighing
about 121bs.) going across the body—I removed it, and removed a piece of coal from the child's mouth (a piece which had fixed the jaw, and lacerated the soft parts of the mouth)—the cord had not been tied—it was alive, breathing feebly—the body and legs were covered with the coals, with exception of the feet—they were long narrow pieces; the head was covered—the child has been taken care of, and, I believe, is alive now.
CHARLES PRIOR (Policeman Y 146). I took the prisoner into custody—I told her she was charged with attempting to murder her child, and she would have to go before a Magistrate—she said she knew all about it.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I did not put coals on the child, and I don't think I spoke to the nurse."
Prisoner's Defence. I did not put the coals there, and I did not put a piece of coal in the mouth; the coals must have got on by my going back again.
GUILTY on Fourth Count.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
For the Trial, See Old Court, Monday and Tuesday, December 21st and 22nd.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1868.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WOOD conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY the Defence.
HENRY BUTCHER (Policeman L 104). I produce two copies of marriage certificates—the first was sent from Colne, Huntingdonshire, and shows that the prisoner was married in October, 1858, at that place, to Harriet Ball—the second certificate I received from the prisoner's wife—it shows that he was again married, in March, 1868, at St Clement Danes, London, to Mary Ann Peacock—I have compared the copies with the original ones, and find them to be correct.
MART ANN LEE . I am the wife of John Lee, and reside at 98, Wardour Street, Oxford Street—I know the prisoner, and was present at his marriage with my sister, Harriet Ball, at Colne, in October, 1858—my sister is now living—the prisoner lived with her for two or three years after the marriage, at Erith, Huntingdonshire, and I have never seen her since, until I saw her in Court.
Cross-examined. Q. When did you see her at Erith? A. After they were married, and when they were living together—in October, 1858, I was living at St Ives, where I was in service—I used to see them at Erith, until I came to London—it is eight years last October since I saw them—I cannot undertake to say that I saw him within two months of my coming to London, in 1860; it might be within six months—there were quarrels and disagreements between my sister and the prisoner—I heard of them from my sister, and other parties, but I saw none myself—my sister came to London after I had been there two or three years—I do not know when she and the prisoner ceased to live together—there were no children—the prisoner, when married, was a labouring man, at work at Erith.
MR. WOOD. Q. Where did your sister go after they were separated?
A. To Colne, her own village, and lived with her parents; then she came to live in London.
Cross-examined. Q. What trade are you? A. I am a plumber, residing at 53, Vere Street—I am not aware that my sister-in-law has lived at 49, Millbank Street, Westminster—I did not visit her and the prisoner after the marriage.
Cross-examined. Q. How long did you know him? A. I had known him for some time before—I lived with Mr. Jackson, his sister-in-law, at 49, Millbank Street, Westminster, at the end of 1866, or the beginning of 1867—I had conversations with Mrs. Jackson about the marriage, but I do not remember saying to her that a man could get a divorce, who had not seen his wife for seven years—nothing was said by me to Mrs. Jackson about a divorce—they did not tell me that a divorce was an expensive thing, and of course the prisoner could not get one—the former marriage was never mentioned to me until two months after I was married.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARRIS the Defence.
MICHAEL HILL (Policeman E 111). On the evening of the 19th November, I was on duty in Cleveland Street—I saw the prisoner in Bolsover Street, standing in a door way, opposite Mr. Dawkins' house—I went towards him, and he walked in the direction of the Euston Road—I followed him for some distance, and he came again to the top of Cleveland Street—when there, he turned round and made a dart with a jemmy at my head—I pulled my head on one side to avoid him, when a man on the opposite side of the road threw a stone at my head—immediately after this, the prisoner dropped the jemmy and four pick-locks—I picked them up and followed him, but lost sight of him at the corner of Bolsover Street—I then went back and found five skeleton keys in the street—the keys are well made, and will fit any door on my division.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was it when you first saw the prisoner? A. It was about 12.15—I watched to see what he was about, and then he walked towards the Euston Road—I lost sight of him, and the next time I saw him was about 1.5 or 1.10, in Southampton Street, about three minutes' walk from the prosecutor's—if I had been a few inches nearer, he would have driven the jemmy into my head—I had passed the other man, and was close upon the prisoner when I saw him drop the keys.
JAMES THOMPSON (Police Inspector). From information received, I went, between 9 and 10 o'clock on the evening of 19th November, to the prisoner's house, accompanied by two sergeants—we remained watching in the house, and about 1.30 the next morning, we heard the front door opened by some person, but we could not see whether by a man or a woman—the person passed up stairs very quietly, and I gave him time to reach the first floor, when I shouted out, and ran up after him—the person escaped to the top part of the house, and then I saw the prisoner, and charged him with
burglariously entering the house with intent to rob Captain Savage—he made no answer, and then I removed him to the station—on the way be said that if he could get hold of old Savage's things, he would throw him into the sewer—when asked his address, he said it was Spring Street, Shepherd's Bush, which was found to be false.
Cross-examined. Q. Are there any other lodgers in the house? A. There was a woman living on the third floor, named Benson, who said she was "kept"—I expected other parties would have entered the house when I went there—I was satisfied that Benson knew nothing of the burglary—the stairs are of stone, and are carpeted—the prisoner stood in a corner when apprehended—when I shouted he ran from the first to the second floor, and there I caught him—nothing was found in his possession, except a taper and a latch-key.
PORTER WILLIAM DUNNAWAY (Detective Sergeant). I accompanied the last witness to the house of Mr. Dawkins on the night of the 19th November—I heard some person enter, and when Inspector Thompson gave the alarm, we pursued and captured him as described—on the Monday night previously, between 9 and 10 o'clock, I saw the prisoner in Bolsover Street, walking up and down.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you find any matches on the prisoner? A. No—we were ensconced in the kitchen down stairs when we heard the door open.
HANNAH DAWKINS . My husband is the landlord of 66, Bolsover Street—we have an old gentleman named Savage lodging on the first floor—he had considerable property in the house, consisting of silver forks and candlesticks, a batchelor's set, and various other things, with rings, chains, &c.—early on the morning of the 17th November, I heard a latch-key in the front door, and then someone entered and went up stairs—I listened until I heard footsteps coming down again, which was in about twenty minutes—I was in bed in the parlour—I left the bed and opened the door, and then I saw a person with his left hand opening the street door—I said, "What are you doing in my house?"—he did not answer, but closed the door and went away—there was nothing lost or disturbed.
Cross-examined. Q. In what part of your house does Captain Savage lodge? A. On the first floor—he has never given a latch-key to any person—I have known him to bring home a lady to sleep with him—he once brought some waiters from the Haymarket to breakfast with him—I know Annie Williams—I do not know how many times she has slept with Captain Savage—I have never fetched her for the captain, nor have I been with anyone who has done so—a Mrs. Thompson and a person of the name of Benson slept on the third floor—Benson came to me as a married lady—I did not find out till afterwards that she had no husband—I have known her receive visits from Mr. Benson, and him only—he had discontinued his visits about three weeks before the burglary—I never trouble Mrs. Benson about money—I did not say, when the prisoner was apprehended, that it was Mrs. Benson's latch-key in his possession, nor that it was like hers—it is not like any key that I possess—I might have said, in my excitement, "Benson is in this, and shall go;" but I do not think so now—I had given her notice to leave, when she told me she expected a letter from Mr. Benson, and then she would pay me—Captain Savage is rather an eccentric gentleman—he has not been out at all hours of a night for a long time past—I knew that a woman nursed him for several weeks—I can't say that I have seen a
woman known as the "Great Eastern" at my house—I had heard of a person named Stewart, and think Captain Savage once brought her home to my house—I do not know Mrs. Langford.
MR. DALY. Mrs. Thompson is a married woman—it is a respectable house.
SARAH BENSON . I lodge with the last witness—I lost my latch-key some time before the 19th November—the one found upon the prisoner is not the same—I do not know the prisoner, and never saw him until I was at the Police Court in Marlborough Street—I never gave him authority to visit me—no gentleman has ever visited me except Mr. Benson.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you borne that name? A. My name has been Benson for about fourteen months—I went in that name because I lived with a gentleman—I told you at the Police Court that I was married, but I corrected myself afterwards—I confessed that I was not married—the prisoner has never come into my room to my knowledge—I did not see him in the house on the 19th November—Mr. Benson left me about seven weeks ago.
Witnesses for the Defence.
ROBERT PENDRY . I am a veterinary surgeon, of Upper Thames Street—I have a knowledge of the prisoner—I was with him in the Haymarket, on the night of 19th February, from 10.30 to just upon 12 o'clock—I was not in his company the whole of the time—I parted with him at 11.50 or 11.52; I had just time to catch the 12 o'clock train to Cannon Street, and I said, "I must be off"—I have been in Thames Street fifteen years—I contract for large houses in the City, Chaplin & Home, and the South Western Railway, and others.
Cross-examined by MR. DALY. Q. What number in Upper Thames Street? A. 171—I have not been at the same number all the time; I removed from Bread Street Hill, these being larger premises—I have a veterinary establishment, and boxes for sick horses—some days previous to the 19th, he called and said he had seen an advertisement from my place—I had seen him before, but nothing particular—I made an arrangement with him, as he was commissioned to buy a brougham horse for a gentleman—we were at the Anglesea Hotel, in the Haymarket; we both left there together—I walked with him as far as Barnes's, and then said, "My time is up, I must go"—we did not go into any place before the Anglesea—he was about twenty yards this side of Jermyn Street when I left him; I went across the road, and he went towards the top of the Haymarket—I caught the 12 o'clock train—I am positive this was the 19th—I was spoken to about it on the Monday following by a solicitor, who called on me, and I recollected that I had last seen Jones in the Haymarket on the Thursday evening—I never saw him in the Haymarket with a man going by the name of Bill—I did not see the prisoner with anything like this jemmy, or keys, that night.
COURT. Q. Do you say that you were with him from 10.30 to 12.0? A. No; he came into the Anglesea Hotel while I was there, and I should think I was with him three-quarters of an hour—the landlady was in the bar—I was attending her nag—I went before the Magistrate, but was not called.
JAMES BARTON . I am a process server, of 33, Exeter Street, Strand—on 19th October, near 12 o'clock at night, I met the prisoner in the Haymarket, near Jermyn Street, close to Barnes's—I fancied he had come out
of there—I went with him into Jermyn Street; he spoke to me, and I remained with him some time—I had refreshments with him at Glynn'g, in Jermyn Street—we remained there forty minutes, or nearly an hour, and left at 12.40 or 12.45—they close at 1 o'clock—I wanted to get to another house before it closed, and left him talking to another person.
Cross-examined. Q. For whom do you serve process? A. For Mr. Roberts, 12, Clement's Inn, Strand, a solicitor—I swear I serve writs and process for him—I served the last about a week ago, because I made a memorandum of it—the 3rd of this month was the last time(referring)—I only enter the money I receive—it is a private mark; these figures express the amount—there is another Mr. Roberts for whom I do business, who is not a solicitor—this "C" stands for a figure—I do not do much in the betting way—this book does not stop at August, but it goes backwards; here is the first entry—I generally serve process by day, and go out in the evening—I go to the Haymarket very frequently—I do not watch outside the doors of night-houses—I will not swear I never did so—the last time I did so was ten years ago, when I watched one in Panton Street—I mean as door porter, to keep improper persons out—I had not to tell when the police were coming; they always come in uniform—I never watched at Kate Hamilton's—you have been misinformed; I was waiter there—it is quite ten years ago since I watched—when I go to the Haymarket at night it is to enjoy myself—I sometimes go to the Grapes; sometimes to the Blue Posts—I am there, on an average, four or five times a week—my usual hour for returning home is 1 or 1.30—the houses shut sometimes at 1 o'clock—I had something to do with the Saville House claim—I am not paid by the Gas Company—I have not been collecting evidence for the claim—I have had nothing to do with the claim—I did not describe myself as a porter, in the Saville House matter—I performed a porter's duty; I received the goods—I have known the prisoner about two years, but have lost sight of him within the last two or three months—I do not know how he gets his living—I had not seen him for more than twelve months—I heard of this two days afterwards—I did not appear before the Magistrate; I was not asked—a friend of mine told me he was taken—there is no necessity for me to mention his name.
COURT. Q. Yes; you are asked who it was? A. Mr. Hamilton—he keeps the Robin Hood public-house, in Windmill Street.
MR. DALY. Q. Was he tried in this Court two months ago? A. I do not know—I cannot say what I have heard about him; I should pay very little attention to it—he asked me if I had heard of this matter, and I said I was astonished—I did not go to the Police Court to save the prisoner, and I was very unwilling, in fact, to come to-day to mix myself up with it—Hamilton mentioned the prisoner as Jones, and that he was in trouble—he did not mention any Christian name—I knew him by the name of Jones.
ANNIE WILLIAMS . I live at 2, Park Road, East Brompton—I know No. 66, Bolsover Street, where Captain Savage lives—I know the landlady, Mrs. Dawkins, just to speak to, she has come to fetch me to the Captain; I cannot say how many times—I have heard of a person named the "Great Eastern" being at Mrs. Dawkins' house, and I have heard of Annie Stewart—I have not seen them there—but I have heard from Mr. Savage that he has taken them there.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you an unfortunate? A. Yes—I was subpoenaedhere.
COURT to JAMES THOMPSON. Q. Did you show that key to the landlady? A. Yes—she said it was something like the key that she gave her lodgers—I believe she said that it was shorter than the other.
COURT to MICHAEL HILL. Q. Did you know the prisoner by sight previous to 19th November? A. I had seen him on the night of the 16th with another man, that was the only time—I was not familiar with his person previously—that was what I described as "last week" when I was examined before the Magistrate—he was alone on the 19th, but on the 16th an elderly man was with him.
He was further charged with having been convicted at Newington, in 1867, in the name of William James, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.
Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the Defence.
WILLIAM THOMAS BRADFORD . I am a glass shade stand maker, of 12, Kentish Town Road—on Saturday night, 21st November, a little after 12 o'clock, I went into a watering place near Meux's brewery, up a turning out of Oxford Street, and as I came out I was struck in the face, which knocked me down, my eye was blackened, and my nose bled very much—I lost my hat and my walking stick—these are them (produced) I do not think the person who knocked me down had anything in his hand—I got up and complained to a constable—the prisoner is the person who struck me.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you ever said before to-day that the prisoner is the man? A. Yes, I said so at the Police Court—(The witnesses deposition being read, stated: "I told the policeman what had happened and who I thought the man was who struck me")—I believe the prisoner to be the man who struck me—I feel certain he is, and I think I said so at the Police Court—I did not know him before—I had been drinking a little, but not much—I had three glasses of gin and water at different public-houses.
WILLIAM TOOLEY (Policeman E R 20). About 12.30 on the morning of 21st November, I saw the prosecutor in New Oxford Street, without a hat, and his face bleeding—in consequence of what he said I went to No. 1, Fletcher's Court, Church Street, with another constable, and found the prisoner at the top of the stairs—he said, "What do you want here?"—I said "I want a man out of this room of the name of Brickley"—he said "My name is not Brickley, my name is Donoghue"—I called him Brickley because I had received information—he had the stick (produced) in his hand, and was holding something behind him—about twenty of his companions followed me into the court—he took off his coat and waistcoat and said he could fight the pair of us—I told the constable to go into the lane, and I waited at the bottom of the stairs—the prisoner came down stairs and put the hat and stick in the water closet when he left—I took them, and got a sergeant, and met the prisoner in the lane, and took him in custody for unlawful possession of the hat and stick—he said "You think you have got me right, but you have not"—on the Saturday I brought the prosecutor to the station, and he identified the hat and stick—I put the prisoner in the yard with nine other men, and the prosecutor picked him out.
Cross-examined. Q. When he was picked out, was his coat torn as if he had gone through a struggle? A. Yes; and others were torn as well.
GUILTY .—He was further charged with having been convicted at Bow Street, in April, 1868, to which he PLEADED GUILTY.**— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
EDWARD SALTER (City Policeman 728). On the evening of 23rd November, I was on duty in Pudding Lane, and saw the prisoner take a parcel from a van standing there, and put it into another empty van—another person was with him—I went up to the van, and, as soon as they saw me, one of them escaped—I asked the prisoner what he had got?—he said he did not know—I found the parcel contained loaf sugar and moist.
Prisoner. A man chucked the parcel out of the van; it was open—I took it to the next van, and sat on the van with the parcel by my side to see what it contained. Witness. No; the other man was covering you with his coat.
COURT to EDWARD SALTER. Q. At what time did this happen? A. A little after 6 o'clock—the parcel was taken from the trap in Arthur Street West, and I saw him take it off a van in Pudding Lane and examine it—I made inquiries, and found it had been stolen from Mr. Curtis's trap about ten minutes before I apprehended the prisoner—he took it from a fruit van which was standing in Pudding Lane, and put it in an empty van belonging to Scotts'—the carman was away, and they were going to see what the parcel contained.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I was in Pudding Lane, standing at the corner; a man ran by and chucked the parcel on the van. I took it down, and another young man asked me what I had? I said I did not know. I put the parcel on the van, and the constable came up and saw the other young man place his hand on the parcel. That is all I know about it. The constable asked me what the parcel contained? I told him I did not know."
COURT to EDWARD SALTER. Q. Did the other man run away directly you came up? A. Yes.
Prisoner. And I sat still.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN GRAHAM . I am a draper, of 19, Trevor Square, Knightsbridge—on 18th November, about 6 o'clock, I was in Flood Street—I was a little intoxicated—Cuff and two or three other boys came up to me—I did not notice a man—they wished me to give them some gratuity for calling a cab to take me home—Cuff came to the cab to ask for more money, which I refused, and he snatched at my watch, and took it away, breaking the chain—this is it (produced).
Steward. Did not you offer a reward of 2l. Witness. No; I wrote a letter to Mr. Podger, thanking him for the kindness he had shown me.
ELLEN ANSLOW . I live with my father and mother, at 60, Queen's Road West—I was standing with my mother at our door, and I saw the prosecutor coming along, and three boys following him—Cuff is one of them—I did not see Steward.
FREDERICK CHENCRY . (Policeman T 53). I took Steward at 2, Paradise Walk, Chelsea—I told him he would be charged, with Cuff and Spence, with stealing a gold watch—he said "I did not steal it, but I got the affidavit on it," that is, he had sworn that the watch was his.
EDWARD DAVIDSON . I am assistant to my brother, a pawnbroker, at 145, Waterloo Road—this gold watch was pawned on the morning of the 19th November, by Steward—next morning he came again and said he had lost the ticket, and had to make an affidavit—I supplied him with a blank form for that purpose, like this (produced)—the constable brought it back to me—I have the watch still—he pawned it in the name of James Davis.
THOMAS PODGER . I am foreman to Mr. Weeks, of Chelsea—on the night of the 19th November I saw the prosecutor, the worse for liquor, and two lads with him—I recognize Steward, but not as being there that night—this (produced) is a letter written to me by the prosecutor, which I took to Steward the next evening—from information I got from a man named Spencer, I said, "Do you know anything about a watch robbery?" and I told him I had received information from Spencer that he had pawned the watch—he denied it at first—we went into a public-house and had a glass of ale together, and he said that he would try and get the affidavit, or the ticket for it—next morning Steward came to me and wanted me to lend him 2d. to get the affidavit—I did so, and he brought it by 2 o'clock.
Steward. On the night of the 19th was not I in the Ship when you called me out? Witness. Yes you asked me if I saw Cuff—I told you I saw him at 8 o'clock in the morning—I know you by sight, well, and described you to the prosecutor—you did not say, "If I could find out the prisoner I would pump it out, it is a man named Spencer"—nor did I say that I gave the affidavit to the constable Manly, and I could make it all right.
Steward's Statement before the Magistrate was, that Abel Spencer gave him one shilling to pledge the watch in the name of Davis.
Stewards Defence. That is true. Mr. Graham said that he did not want to prosecute, and he would go to the station and withdraw the charge.
STEWARD— GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. M. WILLIAMS the, Defence.
EDMUND HOGG . I am a carpenter, of 36, Richard Street, St George's—last Saturday night, at 6.30, I was in Lower Chapman Street—the prisoner came up to me and got hold of this arm, another man got hold of my other arm, and a third put his hand under my coat, into my pocket, and took my puree, containing three half-sovereigns, a three-penny piece, and three or four sixpences—the prisoner held me till the other two turned the corner of Richard Street, and then he let me go, and, being an old man, I could not run after him—I am positive it was the prisoner; I got a good sight of his
face; there was a gas lamp close, and I saw his face plainly—I saw him again the same night, when the policeman came—he was alone at the station, but I knew him in a moment.
Cross-examined. Q. How long did it take altogether? A. Less than half a minute.
HENRY SLINGSBY (Policeman K 394). Last Saturday, at midnight, I was in Twine Court, Shoreditch, and saw the prisoner and another man—I had never seen Turvey before—he said, "There is a slop, step it"—I turned my light on, and asked him where he was going and what he meant—he said, "I am going home"—I asked him where he lived—he said, "Down here, come and I will show you"—I held him, and when we got into High Street, Shadwell, I said, "Now, where do you live?"—he said, "Come, and I will show you," and rushed into a house in Gravel Lane, which is a brothel, closed the door, and said, "Go and b——yourself"—he rushed through to the back passage, but I caught him and held him, and with assistance took him to the station—a woman in the house locked the door, and I could not get out for some time—the moment the prosecutor entered the station, he said, "That is the man who held me"—the prisoner said that he was not.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you fetch the prosecutor? A. Yes; I told him I had got somebody on suspicion of robbing him, and he said, "That is the man"—I took him, from the description the prosecutor left at the station.
MR. COOPER. Q. Is the person here to whom he gave the description? A. I believe it was to Mr. Rose—he is not here.
Witnesses for the Defence.
SAMUEL SEWETT . I live at 5, Tambor Lane Place, Whitechapel—last Saturday I saw the prisoner first at 12.30 in the day, and was in his company up to 6.55—we went into a public house, in Duke Street, North Street, Whitechapel, at 6.15, and remained there I dare say ten minutes—from there we went to the Golden Lion, Raven Street, Whitechapel, where we stopped two hours, and I dare say I might have left the prisoner about 9.15.
COURT. Q. You said you were with him till 6.55? A. I said we stopped together till then—6.55 was the time we came out of the public house.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. What time did you meet him? A. 12.30, and we parted company at 8.55—I was in his company during the whole of that time—we were in a public-house in Shoreditch at 6 o'clock—I cannot tell you the name—I never was there before—we left our friends, who were going by rail to Stratford—we went to the Carpenter's Arms, in Duke Street, and had something to drink, at 5.45, and came out a few minutes before 7—we then went over to Raven Street, and I stopped there, and left Turvey there, at a few minutes before 9 o'clock—I left him in a public-house, and went home to have my tea and something to eat—I saw him again that night—I was gone it might be three quarters of an hour, I am not certain to a minute or two—I then went back to the public-house, and Turvey was still there—it was then a little before 10 o'clock, and I was in his company for an hour and a half after that, at the public house—we left together, and he went one way and I the other—he was brought before a Magistrate last Monday, and I was called as a witness.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you visit him at the station on Sunday night? A. No, I took a cloth there—I did not say that I was with him on that night—I did not say before the Magistrate that I was with him on that
night, or that I left at 6.30, and left him and went to the Red Lion, Raven Street—I said, "We left there"—I had been with Turvey the night before, and the nights before that—we are often together, drinking—it is not usual for me to spend the day with him—I was on business all the time—I was with him at Romford the day before—I am a general dealer—he did not leave during the time I tell you—I heard that he was locked up and charged, and I went before the Magistrate.
COURT. Q. When did you hear it? A. On Sunday morning, and I was kind enough to take him a rug—I went to the inspector, and said, "Is anybody in charge here named Henry Turvey?"—he looked over the books, and said, "Yes"—I said, "Will you oblige me by letting him have this rug?"—he said, "The place is heated"—I said, "It won't harm you"—he said, "You be here to-morrow morning, and take it away"—the inspector told me he was going to Arbour Square next morning.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. You heard he was in custody on Sunday morning, and that is the reason you went to the station? A. Yes.
THOMAS GARRETT . I live at 9, North Street, Bethnal Green—I know the prisoner, and was with him last Saturday from about 12.30 in the day, till 6.10 in the evening, when I parted with him in North Street, Whitechapel—I saw him again at 6.50, at the Golden Lion, and was with him till 11.30 in the evening—I heard on Sunday morning that he was in custody—I went before the Magistrate on Monday, and gave evidence.
Cross-examined. Q. Where were you at 6 o'clock? A. In a public-house opposite Shoreditch Station; I do not know the name—Mr. King and Sewett were with me—I left Sewett with the prisoner at about 6.10—I am a horsekeeper—I mean to say that Turvey did not leave my company till 6.10.
——BRIGHTWELL (Police Sergeant K 4). I have known the prisoner several years—I believe he was in trouble once, for assaulting or deserting his wife; he had two months' for that—I never knew anything wrong of him—he used to hawk fowls, and was called, "The Whitechapel Countryman.
NOT GUILTY .
THIRD COURT—Wednesday, December 16th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. LEWIS and NICHOLSON conducted the Prosecution; and
MESSRS. METCALFE and POLAND the Defence.
JOHN BARKER . I am a wine merchant, in Great Tower Street—in August, 1867, the prisoner came to me for a loan of 30l.—he told me it was for the purpose of redeeming a bracelet belonging to his wife, that it was under repair, and he wanted the money to pay for the repairing—I gave him the 30l.—on the following day he called with the bracelet—this is it (produced)—he wished for a further advance upon it, and again said that it was the property of his wife—and I think I gave him upon that occasion 50l.—on the 24th August, I believe he had 20l. and then 30l.—from time to time I advanced further sums—he left the bracelet with me—he obtained 230l. altogether—he said that the bracelet was worth 300l., but I looked more to the fact that it was his wife's bracelet—I had had previous dealings with him—I parted with the money because he said the bracelet
was his wife's, that he was in temporary difficulties, and he asked me to lend him money on it for a short time—I have had considerable dealings with him before—he owed me 63l. for wine, I think.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. When he came to you first did not he say it was being repaired? A. Yes, at a jeweller's in Hatton Garden, and that he wanted 30l. to clear it—this memorandum was given when the 230l. was completed—when he came first he said there were some charges for the bracelet, and he should require 30l.—I advanced that sum before I saw the bracelet at all, upon the good faith that he should bring the bracelet—he brought it next day or the day after—I paid him further sums afterwards—on the 21st August 30l., on 24th 20l., on 24th August again 10l. and 50l.—I gave him three cheques at three different periods of the day—on the 26th August, I gave him 7l., on the 28th 80l. 14s. 10d., and on the 31st 11l. 5s. 2d.—there were eight cheques altogether—the bracelet was a special transaction, and nothing to do with what the prisoner owed me—Miss Williams came to me on the 30th April—I brought an action against the prisoner on 4th November—the prisoner came to me the same day after the trial, and expressed his regret for not being there—I was late myself—I did not move for a new trial.
MR. LEWIS. Q. What time did you see the prisoner on that day? A. About 1.30—he said, "Is this affair a joke?"—I said it was no joke—he said he had intended to go to Westminster, to attend the trial, but he did not think it was so early—his son had been to me before that, and asked if it was likely to come on.
MARY WILLIAMS . I am now living at Pelham Street, Brompton, under the protection of a gentleman—in 1867, I was acquainted with the defendant—I knew him before 1867, for seven or eight years—I had been in the habit of receiving visits from him from time to time—I knew he was a married man—I received money from him at various times—this bracelet (produced) is mine—I bought it with my own money, from Mr. Vincent, a pawnbroker, in the Borough Road—I gave over 200l. for it—about three months before August, 1867, the prisoner left the bracelet with Mr. Williams, of Hatton Garden, to be repaired—about August I spoke to him about getting the bracelet back from Mr. Williams, and bringing it to me—I did not give him any authority to deposit it with anyone—I was to pledge it myself—I saw him about three days after—he called on me, and said he had taken it from Mr. Williams, and that he had received a telegram from Brighton, stating that his wife was very ill, and as he did not like to take it to Brighton, he had left it in the care of a friend—he would not tell me the name of the friend—this letter (produced) is in the prisoner's handwriting—I received that before he took the bracelet from Mr. Williams—I received this letter, dated February, 186—, the day after—it contains the statement that he was obliged to go to Brighton—the bracelet is mentioned in that letter—I found out where it had been deposited, about January or February this year—I went and saw Mr. Barker after that—I first saw a solicitor—I called on Mr. Barker and claimed the bracelet, perhaps eight or ten days after—I think it was in April—I only went once—the prisoner had told me that he had left it with a wine merchant, a friend of his—he also said that he advertised a great deal, and I found him out in that way—I brought an action against Mr. Barker, and subpoenaed Mr. Haggard as a witness—Mr. Murray is my solicitor—the prisoner was not served personally with the summons.
Cross-examined. Q. You have known him seven years, you say? A. Seven or eight years—I have not kept the date—he took the house in which I lived in his own name—I let that house furnished—it is still my property, and I receive 4l. a week from it; it has been let two months—he took it for ten years, and I think I lived six in it—he has frequently paid the rent when I was pressed for money; it is 50l. a year—he has paid a quantity of my bills—he has given me money frequently—he has given me a very large sum of money altogether—in August, 1867, we were both hard up—the gentleman with whom I had left the bracelet to be repaired came once or twice, and asked me to take it away—the bracelet was nearly twelve months in Mr. Williams' possession—I went to Mr. Williams to purchase a pair of diamond earrings for a friend of mine—I brought a ring away for the prisoner's approval—I told him I liked the ring, and he told me I might have it; it was 30l.—that stood to the prisoner's account at Williams'—Mr. Williams would not give up the bracelet until that was paid, and also 7l. for repairing it—I asked the prisoner to go and get the bracelet, and I suppose he paid the money; I expected he would raise the money—he told me he would give me some money, and I said I had some, and, instead of giving me that money, I asked him to redeem the bracelet—he said he would redeem the bracelet when he had sold his reversionary property—I pledge anything when I am pressed for money—he never pledged anything for me—I asked him for some money when I was at Brighton—he wrote me a note, and I pledged a ring for 5l.—I gave him the ticket, and he promised to give it me in London—I have pledged things on various occasions, and the prisoner has redeemed them for me, to a very large amount at times—once he redeemed my jewel case for 250l. he gave me 150l., and a cheque for 100l.—I went out of town for a week—he said his friend had gone for a fortnight—when I came back, I wrote to him—I received a letter back from him, saying he would come and see me—I asked him where the bracelet was, and he said, "I owed my friend 75l., which he had paid for my life insurance, and he will not give up the bracelet until I have paid him. I told him it was my wife's"—after I gave him the authority to get the bracelet from Hatton Garden, I received 25l. from him—I also went with him and ordered some furniture, to a large amount—I should think about 100l. I never saw the bill—it was to furnish my bed-room—he gave me some money when I went to Margate—we were very good friends after I had given him the authority for the bracelet—I have not seen him since last February until the other day—I always recived him, whether he had money or not—I knew he was in difficulties—we were very good friends after he would not tell me where the bracelet was, and after I had been to Mr. Barker—he might have done anything he liked with the bracelet, if he had told me where it was.
MR. LEWIS. Q. What amount of money did you receive from Mr. Haggard after August, 1867? A. Well, I believe, during the year and a half, I did not receive 30l.—he furnished my house for me, but applications are now being made to me for the money—I heard he was a bankrupt.
The prisoner received an excellent character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution. MR. WOOD defended Murphy, and
MR. PATER defended Morris.
HERMAN FREITAG . I live at 19, Church Street, Tower Hill—on 13th December, about 1.30, I was with three friends, in East Smithfield, going home—I was with my cousin and a friend—a man caught hold of me from behind—I was knocked down on the ground, and I was out of my senses—when I recovered, I got up, and felt a pull at my chain—I can't say who did that—I saw my cousin Auguste take hold of a man—when I got up first, I saw four or five men running away—I lost nothing—a policeman came up—there were some men standing on the pavement then, and my cousin pointed out the two prisoners as the men who had assaulted us—the men were standing about four yards from where we were attacked.
Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. Have you ever said it was more than four yards? A. No—I can't swear to either of the prisoners.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Did you see any person running away when you came to your senses? A. Yes, they all ran to the other side of the road, and then stopped—I had been down to see a friend of mine, in Ship's Alley, with my cousin—we had been out for the evening, enjoying ourselves—we went out about 11.50; we had been dancing before that—there was a woman with us in East Smithfield—we were walking in the middle of the road—I was quite sober.
AUGUSTE FREITAG . I live at 5, Church Row, Houndsditch—on this morning I was out with my cousin—I was walking about four or five steps in front of him, and heard him call out—I turned round, and saw him lying on his back—Murphy was pulling about his coat, as if trying to get it open—I pushed the man away, and got hold of him—Morris came up, and made a cut across three of my fingers, with something sharp, which he had in his hand; I could not say whether it was a knife—I let go of Murphy, and he ran a few steps, and stopped at the corner of the street—there were about five men there—a policeman came up, and I pointed out the two prisoners to him—they were about ten steps away—I recognized them at once—I am sure that Morris is the one that cut my hand, and Murphy is the one that attacked my cousin—it was rather dark; there was a lamp at the corner—it happened in East Smithfield, down by the docks.
Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. What time did you leave your home? A. About 10.30, with my brother—we met the woman at the place where we went to; she was a barmaid in the house—I did not dance at all; my cousin and my brother did—we had some sherry there—I can't say how many bottles—there were seven or eight of us together—I had about three glasses—when this happened I was walking in front of my cousin, about four or five paces, with a friend—I had only gone on in front about a minute—the woman went to the police-station—I don't know whether she identified these men—she is not here to-day.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. All this happened in a moment, I suppose? A. Yes—we had had no quarrel with anybody, and we were making no disturbance—the men ran to the corner, and they were standing there when the constable came up—there were about three men standing at the corner—I noticed the persons who were there distinctly.
JOHN BARRETT (Policeman H 158). On this morning, about 1.45, I heard a cry of "Police!" and went up and saw the prosecutor and his friends, he said "Someone has attempted to rob us, and my cousin has had his hand cut, and there are the parties at the corner of Well Street"—the
two prisoners were standing there, with two others—I told another constable to stop there, and I went along the dock wall—I went round to the end of Well Street and stopped the four men who were standing at the corner—the prosecutor and his cousin came up, and they pointed out the two prisoners, and said they were sure they were the two men—the prosecutor said Murphy was the one who attacked him, and his cousin said that Morris was the one who cut his fingers—his fingers were bleeding at that time.
Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. Did you see whether either of the Germans had a knife? A. No—I searched Morris, and found a knife in his pocket—it was shut up—there were two other men at the corner of the street; I don't know their names—a man followed to the station; he was one of the four—I did not know his name was White—there was a man in a white smock—they could not identify him.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. Were the Germans under the influence of liquor? A. No; they were excited—they were not confused—I did not see a female at the corner of Well Street—it was not very dark; the gas was lighted—I came up because I heard cries of "Police!"
Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate: Murphy says, "Yesterday morning I was with a friend, in East Smithfield, and he and the Germans were talking. One of their party struck my friend. I then saw one of them and my friend on the ground. I was frightened, and ran away. I stopped at the corner of the street; a constable came up, and I was taken." Morris says, "I was going home with a friend last morning."
The prisoners received good characters.— GUILTY . Recommended to mercy by the Jury.
MORRIS— Twelve Months' Imprisonment, and Twenty-five Lashes with the Cat .
MURPHY— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
BAGOT PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. POLAND and STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY defended Crane.
JOHN DEFAUNE . I am a clerk in the Consolidated Bank, 52, Threadneedle Street—Mr. Henry Vincent Bagot keeps an account there—on 17th November, this order for a cheque-book was presented to me by the witness Geeson—I gave a cheque-book for it, containing sixty cheques, from Nos. 85, 981 to 86, 040 (Read: "21, Cullum Street, November 17th, 1868. Please give the bearer a 5s. cheque-book. Hy. V. Bagot")—I believed that to be the genuine signature of Mr. Bagot—I gave the cheque-book on the faith of the order.
JONATHAN GRIERSON . I am chief cashier at the Consolidated Bank—on the afternoon of Tuesday, 17th November, this check was presented to me for payment by Geeson—I am well acquainted with Mr. Bagot's handwriting—I would not pay the cheque, and I had some conversation with Geeson about it—he made a statement to me—I then drew the attention of another cashier to it, and I sent Mr. James Bailey with Geeson to call on Mr. Bagot—the cheque was one of our own cheques, and numbered 85, 983.
Cross-examined. Q. What time was this? A. About I o'clock—we were not very busy at that time—I had doubts about the signature—I went into an inner room, and had some conversation with Mr. Bailey—I
referred to a signature book in the office before I went into the parlour—Geeson was there all the time—I sent him out with Mr. Bailey—he was detained for a few minutes while I made the inquiries—I told Mr. Bailey not to lose sight of him.
HENRY VINCENT BAGOT . I am a printer, at 21, Cullum Street—I keep an account at the Consolidated Bank—Charles Walter Bagot, who has pleaded guilty, is my son—he was twenty-one on the 19th November—I never saw Crane before he was in custody—I believe he knew my son—to the best of my belief this cheque and order are not in my handwriting—I can't say whose handwriting they are—I presume it to be my son's, but I can't swear that it is.
Cross-examined. Q. Did Mr. Bailey come to you on this day? A. Yes—I was out, and did not see him—I went to Mr. Mullens' about 4 in the afternoon—I went to the bank first, and I was desired to go there by the manager—I was shown the cheque at Mr. Mullens' office—Geeson was in custody at that time—he was at Mr. Mullens', with an officer—I was told that Geeson was the person who presented the cheque, and I was asked whether it was my signature, and I said it was not—he was in one room and I was in another—I merely went in and saw him, to see if I could recognize him—I did not know him at all—I did not hear him asked any questions—I went back into the other room directly I saw him—my son gave himself up next morning—he came home in the evening, and I told him the charge against him, and advised him to go to Mr. Mullens', which he did—I did not go with him—I advised him to plead guilty, in the hope it would mitigate his punishment—he is not my eldest son—he has been with me and my partner for six or seven years, as clerk and collector—he has never given me any trouble until he knew the Cranes—he was living at home—I heard that he used to go to Music Halls with the Cranes—he had a salary from me, and an allowance besides—I knew he was spending all that, and his mother used to supply him with money—I may have told Mr. Mullens that I should be glad to have my son as a witness against Crane—I don't recollect that I did.
MR. POLAND. Q. You advised your son to give himself up? A. Yes; I don't recollect what I said to him—I never received the cheque-book mentioned in that order.
CHARLES WALTER BAGOT (The Prisoner). I have pleaded guilty to this indictment—I am the son of the last witness—I have known Crane six or seven months—he is no trade; he was an officer in the East Indian army—I know a person named Geeson; I have known him about two months—I have seen him at Crane's, and that is how I became acquainted with him—on Monday evening, 16th November, Crane, Geeson, and myself were at Gatti's restaurant, in Villiers Street, Charing Cross—there was some music going on—Crane and I went together—Geeson came in afterwards—he said he was very cold, and had had nothing to eat all day—I told him that I had ordered supper for him—I told him I should want him to cash me a cheque to-morrow—he asked me how much it was for, and I said 40l.—he said, "Is that all?"—Crane was present while this was going on—I had been talking to Crane about the cheque during the day—on the Sunday evening I told Crane I wanted to see him in the morning—we met at the Cannon Street Station at 11 o'clock—I told him I was going to write a cheque—he said to me, "Who will change it?"—he then said, "We will get Geeson to do it; we could not get a bigger rogue"—that was all that was said—Crane
and I slept that night at a coffee-house in the Blackfriars Road, and Geeson went to another place—we arranged that he should come to us next morning, about 9.30—we left the coffee-house the next morning before he came—it was Yates' coffee-house—I don't know the number—Geeson overtook us on Blackfriars Bridge—he and I went to the Baltic to have some breakfast, and Crane afterwards joined us there—I then went to get some paper to write the order—I could not get any—Geeson asked me for the money, and said he would get some—I gave him the money; he went out and came back with some paper—I then wrote this order for the cheque-book—Crane was a few yards off when I wrote it—I wrote it on a little shelf, at the Telegraph office, at the Baltic—I gave it to Geeson, and told him to get the cheque-book from the bank—he came back soon after, and brought the book to me—we all three went together to a coffee-house in Camomile Street, and there I wrote a cheque for 40l., on one of the forms out of the book—Crane was sitting opposite me, next to Geeson—Geeson asked for a pen and ink—he said, "Are you frightened to write it? I wish I bad the chance"—he asked me if my father blotted the cheques or not t—I said, "That is quite immaterial"—after I had written the second one, he said, "You can practice on all the cheques, to make sure"—the first one I wrote, I spelt "forty" wrong, and then I wrote another—he called for the blotting-paper, and then I gave him the cheque—it was white blotting-paper—Geeson went out with the cheque, and we were to meet him in Bishopsgate Street—I walked down Alderman's Walk by myself—I afterwards saw Geeson coming with one of the banker's clerks—I then turned back again and went down Alderman's Walk—I saw Crane in the evening, at his brother's house, in Lower Marsh, Lambeth—I asked him if he had seen anything of Geeson—he said, "Yes; I saw him twice; he nudged my arm three times as he was going along"—when we had tea, we went up stairs; I took out the cheque-book and said to Crane, "Will you put this in your trunk for me?"—his brother was up in the room with us—Crane said he would burn the book, and he put it in the front of his drawer till he came back—I believe it was afterwards burnt—I left it there, and have not seen it since—I heard that Geeson was in custody on the Tuesday evening—my father spoke to me on Wednesday morning, and I went to Mr. Mullens and gave myself up—Crane was taken soon after; he was standing outside the Mansion House.
Cross-examined. Q. You have been living at home for some time? A. Yes—I did not hear my father examined just now—I have been in his business, as clerk and collector—I thought my father would pay the money if he was called upon—my father never made any complaints against me—we had not been at Gatti's long before Geeson came in—I met Crane the same day, at Cannon Street Station, in the morning—the interview took place as we were walking from the station—we went to Gatti's at 7.30, and left by the 11.50 train from Charing Cross—we were sitting at a table most of the time—the other tables were very close—I don't know whether anyone heard what we were talking about—there was no concealment about it—I paid for Geeson's supper, and his bed, and the breakfast the next morning—Crane went to the European, and joined us again at the Baltic—when I wrote the order there, Crane was standing at the door, about forty feet away—there was a glass door between us—Geeson went to get the cheque-book—when I saw Mr. Bailey I was down Alderman's Walk, about thirty or forty yards away—I was walking a little way in front of Crane, and when I saw Mr. Bailey, I turned off and Crane walked on—Crane's brother
keeps a chemist's shop in the Lower Marsh, Lambeth—Crane sometimes assisted him in the business—when I went to Mr. Mullens, I did not tell him all this—he only asked me one or two questions, and then gave me into custody—Crane was brought to Mr. Mullens' office after I had been there about three quarters of an hour—questions were put to him while the officer was there—I heard him say that his brother would not have the cheque-book in the house, and that he had put it in the fire and burnt it
TYRRELL GEESON . I am twenty-five years old, and live at 21, Coleman Street, City—I was a wholesale chemist's assistant—I am now out of place—on Monday, 16th November, I was at Gatti's—I met Crane and Bagot there—we afterwards went to Yates's coffee-house, in the Blackfriar's Road—Crane and Bagot slept there and I went somewhere else—I went next morning and found they had gone, and I joined them on Blackfriars Bridge—we went to Farringdon Street, and had some breakfast—from there I went to the European, opposite the Mansion House, where I met Crane, and then we went to the Baltic Commercial Rooms, where we saw Bagot—Bagot sent me out for some note paper—when I brought it, Crane was standing on the steps of the telegraph office—Bagot then wrote the order for the cheque-book—I did not see what was written on it—it was folded up—I went to the bank, got the cheque-book, and gave it to Bagot—we then went to a coffee-shop in Camomile Street—Bagot there wrote on one of the forms, and gave it to me—I was sitting opposite him—I believe more than one cheque was written—it was for 40l.—one of the waiters gave him the pen and ink—I was to take the cheque to the bank, and get 30l. in notes, and 10l. in gold, and bring the money to them at the corner of Alderman's Walk—I took the cheque to the bank, and they refused to pay it—I went out with Mr. Bailey, one of the cashiers—going towards Bishopsgate Street I saw Bagot going down Alderman's Walk—I was taken to the station, and then to the Mansion House, where Crane and Bagot were in custody—I was discharged, and examined as a witness.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you go accidentally to Gatti's on the Monday night? A. Yes; I often go there—I made no appointment to meet Crane and Bagot there—Bagot paid for my refreshment there—I heard no conversation about the cheque there—nothing was said to me about it—I did not inquire the amount of any cheque, nor was I told it was 40l.—I did not say, "Is that all," or anything like it—I did not think there was anything wrong when Bagot wrote the order for the cheque-book—Crane and I were outside the door, standing on the steps, at the time—Bagot brought the order out to us—I did not ask for the pen and ink at the coffee-house in Camomile Street; Bagot did—I did not think there was anything wrong at the time he wrote the cheque—I knew he was a respectable man, and he often had cheques in his possession, and a great deal of money at times—I never suggested that he could practice on all the fifty-eight cheques in the book, so that he might get the signature perfect—nothing of that kind passed—I know that one cheque was torn up, and I am not sure about the second one—I was having some tea at the time—he did not say a word to me while he was writing the cheque—he never said anything about having misspelt forty—he was sitting opposite to me—he could not have said anything without my hearing it—I did not say he seemed frightened to do it—I had no notion that there was anything wrong—I did not ask Bagot if his father was in the habit of blotting his cheques, nor did he say that it was quite immaterial—he told me to go to the bank and get the money—until
I was at the bank I had no suspicion of anything wrong—I did not pass Crane when I was with Mr. Bailey—it is not true that I nudged his hand three times.
MR. POLAND. Q. How long have you known Bagot? A. About six months—we used to call him Charley—I did not know what to think about this—Bagot asked me to get the cheque cashed, as he did not want to to seen in the City; and he said he would wait till I came back with the money—they said the reason why they slept in the Blackfriars Road was because they wanted to go somewhere the next morning—I asked them where, but they would not tell me.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not see Crane? A. No.
EMMA MARY YATES . I live with my father, at 40, Blackfriars Road—on Monday evening, the 16th November, Crane and Bagot came to sleep at the house—I saw Geeson the same evening, and the next morning, after they had left—he did not sleep there—I only had room for the two.
MATILDA UBSDELL . I live at a coffee house, at 3, Camomile Street, City—it is kept by Mrs. Tomlin—on Tuesday, 17th November, I saw Geeson there with two others—I don't know who they were—they stayed about a quarter of an hour or twenty minutes—I took them a pen and ink and blotting paper—after they had left, someone came and made some inquiry, and I gave them this piece of blotting paper which they had used.
Cross-examined. Q. This was in the regular coffee room? A. Yes? I was attending to them, there was no one else there—they had some refreshment—I did not hear anything that was said.
GEORGE RUSSELL . (City Detective.) On Wednesday morning, 18th November, I was at Mr. Mullens' office, 68, Cheapside—Crane and Bagot were there—Crane said that he was at his brother's house, in company with Bagot, the night before, and his brother was present—he also said, "Bagot took from his pocket a cheque-book, and said, 'Take care of this cheque-book for me; my brother said, 'You sha'n't leave it here, I will have nothing to do with it;' Bagot said 'Then I will burn it,' and handed me the cheque-book, and I put it on the fire."
Cross-examined. Q. Were you present when Geeson was there? A. I was—Crane and Geeson were in my custody at that time—Bagot was given into custody just afterwards.
CRANE— GUILTY — Two Years' Imprisonment .
BAGOT— Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
FOURTH COURT.—Wednesday, December 16th, 1868.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT the Defence.
JOSEPH BALL . I live at 14, Clifton Cottage, Clifton Road, Peckham, and am a licensed victualler, out of business—I was at that time keeping the Chequers Inn, Worship Street, Finsbury—I had supplied refreshments to the prisoner, who came to my house with a man named Duffey, and had supplied them at different times with refreshments, and lent them money, which came to 2l. 14s. 6d.—I had pressed them both for payment, but lost sight of them for some time—on 22nd August the prisoner came and handed me this cheque for 6l. 12s. (produced), saying, "I am glad I am able to pay you"—I said, "Who is Henry West, the drawer of the cheque"—he said, "A brewer, in the Commercial Road"—I said, "Now, Cross, is this a genuine cheque"—he said, "Yes,"—I said, "Endorse your name and address on the back of it"—he did so—I deducted the amount of my account, and paid the prisoner the balance, 3l. 17s. 6d.—on 24th August, I presented the cheque at the London and Westminster Bank, and they marked it, "No account"—I searched for the prisoner, and saw him two months afterwards, in Bucklersbury—I told him I should give him in custody—he told me he would pay me the money if he could; then he got away—I communicated with the police, and he was taken on another charge.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he in the habit of coming to your house with a man named Duffy? A. Yes; Duffy did not mention that the prisoner had some beer for sale, or that he had got a business with the prisoner at Back Church Lane, to my recollection—I was examined before the Magistrate, but did not mention the prisoner attempting to escape, as I was not asked.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you in a largish way of business? A. Yes—I have no travelling agents—there is no man named Robinson in my employ—if we want to buy beer, we do it ourselves—we do not solicit orders.
MR. RIBTON. Q. I suppose you have not anybody in your employ who forges your name? A. Not that I know of.
WILLIAM ALLEN DUNSTALL . I am in the London and Westminster Bank, Bloomsbury branch—there is nobody keeping an account there named Henry West—this cheque was issued from our bank to a Mr. Duke, in 1862, who used to have an account there, and who is now dead.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY of uttering.†— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. STRAIGHT conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM WRIGHT (City Policeman 865). On 23rd November, about 2 o'clock, I was in Cheapside, and saw the male prisoner feel Mrs. Everard's pocket outside—he then looked at the female prisoner, and nodded—by that time Mrs. Everard had got into a doorway—he put his hand into her pocket, while the female spread her shawl out, and covered him—when they left the lady, I spoke to her, and, from what she said, I followed the prisoners about fifty yards, till I saw another officer—we then took them, and I found, on the male prisoner, 6d. and a pocket-book, and on the female,
these two purses, two knives, and two rings—one pane contained 6s., and the other 4s. 6d.
SARAH ANN EVERARD . I am the wife of Frederick Everard, a cashier to a drysalter—we live at 40, Church Road, Islington—I went into Lake's, in Cheapside—the officer spoke to me, and I missed my purse, which was safe ten minutes or a quarter of an hour previously, and contained a half-crown, a florin, and some coppers—neither of these purses is mine—none of my money has been found—my pocket was outside.
FRIDAY MCDOUGAL . I am a waiter, at Lake's dining rooms, Cheapside—I was at the bottom of the stairs, and saw Mrs. Everard—the prisoners were following her—the female prisoner was behind the male—I saw him withdraw his hand from Mrs. Everard's pocket, with something in it—the female prisoner stood close to him—I am quite sure I saw him take something from her pocket.
COURT. Q. What was it; was it a bit of paper? A. No; it appeared to be something dark.
MR. F. H. LEWIS conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES ROBINS . I am an auctioneer, of Chancery Lane—on 17th April, at the prisoner's request, I redeemed a ring for him, in his presence, at the pawnbroker's—I had this cheque changed at my banker's for the purpose—he said that he could sell the ring in half-an-hour, and I took it there, but we could not agree as to the price—he introduced himself to me as the nephew of Mr. Hunt, the billiard table maker, who I knew—the ring was to remain in my possession till he or I could sell it—on 24th May he brought me this string of pearl beads (produced), which he said he had purchased for 82l. 10s., having got 30s. off—he showed me this invoice of it, and asked me to take the necklace as security, and allow him to take away the ring—I referred to my Directory, and found that there was such a firm in Long Lane as where he said that he had purchased it, and allowed him to take away the ring, and deposit the necklace—I had refused to take it on the 19th, but several days afterwards he said that he had purchased it, and showed me the receipt—I allowed him to take the ring on the 23rd May—the next time I saw him was on the 17th November, in custody.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you have the necklace in your possession one hour before the exchange took place? A. No—we were alone—the amount of my outlay was 28l. 15s. 5d.—if I sold the ring immediately I was to have a sovereign—it was not 10l.—I have never seen your writing—I deny having had a promissory note of yours—I have not recommended you to take the ring away, saying that I was sick and tired of it; on the contrary, you wanted to get it—I did not say that I would show it to Madame Titjens, but she may have seen it on my finger, behind the scenes—you went with me to Dobree's, the pawnbroker, and you reduced the interest he was going to charge—he would not take my cheque, but I sent to my banker's and got the money—I may have sold pearls by auction, but not to scrutinize them, and I told you I did not understand pearls—I am quite sure I did not fill up this form myself, or take it to be filled up—I have had no experience in making fictitious documents—I was formerly in St. Martin's
Lane, and sold pawnbroker's unredeemed pledges—I was bankrupt there five years ago—I charged my partner, Mr. Priest, with forging a banker's pasts-book, and that is what ruined me—it was much more cleverly arranged than this invoice is—I produced 200 forged cheques in Court, which never came out of our cheque book at all.
COURT. Q. Would you have parted with the 80l. unless you had believed this was a genuine document? A. I would not have parted with the ring unless I had believed this was a genuine document, and that these were genuine pearls.
Prisoner. Q. Are you a manufacturer? A. Yes—I should not suppose there would be any difficulty in detecting these pearls; I am only surprised that Mr. Robins did not know it—if they were real, I should be glad to give 120l. for them—many good judges are mistaken—the most simple test for a pearl is the weight—real pearls would be four times the weight of these; they are hollow, and filled with wax—I know Sidney Levett, the jeweller—I do not know whether his son is out of the way, owing large sums—he did not offer to sell me a row of pearl beads with a diamond clasp, the diamond of which was originally going to be cut as a brilliant—Levett never offered me this row of beads, unless it was thirty years ago; he might have done so when a boy—I do not know whether my assistant offered 45l. for them, or that you purchased them on my judgment.
COURT. Q. Have you an assistant who would take upon himself to offer 45l. for a necklace in your absence? A. I do not think he would take upon himself to do so.
Prisoner. Q. Did you never in your life buy an imitation article for real? A. No; I have never bought false pearls for real.
ALFRED FRANCIS ROWLET . I am a jeweller, of Long Lane, Smithfield—I do not know the prisoner; I have had no dealings with him—this is one of my invoices; but the writing on it is not mine, or that of anybody in the firm, or in my employment—there is no one in the firm with the initials, "D. A."—I never had these beads in my possession, and never sold them to the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. Do these forms lay about carelessly? A. On the counter, of course—they are likely to be swept out of the shop by errand boys—if the necklace was offered to me for sale, I should not think it worth purchasing—I do not deal much in pearls, but I believe I should have taken them for imitation—I never saw the prisoner before.
WILLIAM BUCK (Policeman F 25). I took the prisoner on 17th November—I have had a warrant for him since 15th June—I had been looking for him in the mean time, but could not find him—I read the warrant to him, and asked him where the ring was—he said he had not got it, that it was his ring, and it was not a case for a Police Court, but for a County Court.
Prisoner's Defence. I am a self-taught man. I live by buying and selling things, but I have not a great deal of experience. In the early part of the year I lost nearly 100l. by selling some pearl necklaces, which I had shown to many jewellers. The prosecutor having redeemed a ring for me, I thought
it would be a good opportunity of getting rid of a string of pearls. He did not redeem the necklace, and lost nothing more by it till I was arrested and committed for trial I know nothing about the invoice, or the receipt to it Is it likely that a man in his senses would take a receipt with initials only? I acted in perfect ignorance, and the document I know nothing about.
GUILTY of uttering. — Five Years' Penal Servitude .
OLD COURT.—Thursday, December 17th, 1868.
Before Mr. Baron Cleasby.
MESSRS. DALY and CUNNINGHAM conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH and MR. F. H. LEWIS the Defence.
The Prisoner in this case was a medical man, and the death was alleged to have been caused by negligence or mistreatment while attending the deceased in her confinement. The details of the case were not of a nature to admit of publication.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, December 17th, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY conducted the Prosecution.
JOSEPH DERRY . I am a bricklayer, of Herbert Street, Hackney Road—I have been for about seven years secretary to Lodge No. 3 of the Operative Bricklayers' Society, meeting at the Ship Tavern, Shoreditch—I produce the minute book of the society—I was present on 21st December, 1867, when the prisoner was appointed treasurer of the lodge—the resolution if entered here in the chairman's writing—that was for three months; and in March, 1868, he was re-appointed for three months—he was a member of the society—he continued in office till 27th June, when another treasurer succeeded him—on 26th June the accounts were made up, and the prisoner was present on 1st July, when they were audited—a balance was struck on the audit sheet, by which the prisoner had 17l. 3s. 0¼d. of the society's money—the treasurer's book and mine supplied the materials from which the auditors made up the accounts—he supplied some portion of the materials and I the rest—he sits there and refers to anything that I want—he did not dispute that that was the balance—on 4th July there was a meeting, at which the new treasurer attended; that was the first meeting after he was appointed—it generally has been the prisoner's duty to attend—the business is transferred, and the rest of the officers paid that are left unpaid—the prisoner was not there, and on the 8th July I wrote a letter to him.
WILLIAM WALLACE WEST . I am clerk to Messrs. Shaen & Roscoe, solicitors for the prosecution—on Tuesday last, I served on the prisoner a notice to produce a letter signed by the secretary, Joseph Derry, on 8th July, asking him to attend the meeting, and another on 30th July.
JOSEPH DERRY (continued). This is a notice to send all books and monies by Wednesday next, or he would be treated as a defaulter—he did not attend on 8th July—I am not sure whether I saw him on the 12th—a deputation went to him before I saw him, after which I met him accidentally, and he agreed to meet and make an arrangement to make up the money on the following Tuesday, and I agreed to be there with him and the new treasurer as well—the prisoner did not keep the appointment, and I never saw him afterwards till November—(This letter was dated 30th July, and requested the prisoner to attend on Saturday, 1st August, and deliver up all property he held for the society)—He did not attend on 1st August, and I do not think he was in London—I did not see him after that—I called at his residence, and secured some of the books from his wife—he was not there.
Prisoner. I found no material to make up any accounts.
COURT. Q. Were all things prepared on the 12th June to make up the accounts? A. Yes—the balance sheet would be the result of certain book kept by the prisoner and other officers—any explanation the auditors required would be given by the prisoner and other officers—the prisoner did not say to me that it was a wrong balance, or complain that there was any want of the usual materials for ascertaining the balance.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Were you present when he entered upon his office? A. Yes, and saw monies handed over to him from the previous treasurer; I think about 11l.
WILLIAM CHASE . I am a bricklayer, and a member of the society—I and others formed a deputation to wait upon the prisoner on 11th July—I told him we came concerning the money and books which he held, as the members were uneasy at his not attending to give them up—he said he knew they were uneasy, and had made a great deal of noise about it; and as they had done so he should be obstinate, and take his own time to pay it—in the course of the conversation he said that he was short, and had used some of the money—he promised to attend on the following Saturday night, and pay over what he had, but he did not come.
WILLIAM FAIRALL (Policeman H 176). A warrant was placed in my hands for the prisoner's apprehension, and I found him at Lowestoft, on 21st November, in the skittle ground of the York Hotel—when the money was mentioned, 17l. 3s. 0¼d., he said that was 1l. too much; but on his road to London next day he said that the amount was correct—he had 5s. 6d. on him.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate, "I misused the money, and have been unfortunate enough to lose some. I should like to come to some terms about it. I am willing to pay every farthing."
Prisoner. I wish to know whether my last quarter's salary is deducted from the amount they charge me with?
Prisoner's Defence. I lost part of it, and there was a certain amount of money in the secretary's hands which I never received.
The Jury found that the embezzlement took place before August the 1st, on which day the Act of Parliament under which the indictment teas framed became law. MR. BESLEY sated that the absconding was after August the 1st.
THE COURT referred the question to the Jury.
GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment .
MR. DUNDAS conducted the Prosecution.
CATHERINE VALLICK . I am a widow, and live at 16, Denmark Street, St. George's in the East—mine is a back room on the ground floor—on the morning of 6th December I was in bed, just under the window—my daughter awoke me about 2.30, and I saw a man on the bed, stooping down—his back was towards me—he remained till the girl called me a second time, and when I screamed he got out at the window—it had been closed but not fastened; I found it open—I cannot tell who the man was.
EATHER VALLICK . I am a daughter of the last witness—I felt a weight on the bed, and awoke my mother about 2.30—I saw the prisoner—I screamed, and he put his hand on my mouth—I saw his face, and am sure of him—he got up and escaped out at the window—it was moonlight—he said nothing—I had known him before; he lodged with my mother twelve months ago, and he had been in the room that evening—he left at a few minutes past 12 o'clock.
FREDERICK LANGLEY . I live at 17, Denmark Street, St George's, next door to the prosecutor—I was disturbed on the night of 6th December, about 3 a.m., and saw a man in my yard—I went out at the front door, and found the prisoner in a court—I said, "What do you do here?"—he said, "What is the matter?"—I said, "You know what is the matter; you just came over the wall"—I said, "You must stop here; you have been a thief—I brought him up the court, and gave him to a policeman.
CAROLINE LANGLEY . I am the wife, of the last witness—I was going to bed at 2.30, and heard a noise—I looked out in the yard, and saw a man—I got a light, and saw him come over the wall from No. 16—I did not see his face, and did not see my husband catch hold of him.
JAMES BRAYBROOK (Policeman H 92). I saw Langley holding the prisoner at 2.30, in a court next door but one to 16, Denmark Street (I ran down there, hearing a cry of "Police I")—I charged him with burglary—he said he knew nothing at all about it—he was perfectly sober.
Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate. "I only just came up to see what was the matter. I had been there all the evening. They had offered me a bed."
COURT to CARTHERINE VALLICK. Q. Had the prisoner been in your house that evening? A. He came at 11.40, and remained half an hour—he asked me if I had any beds now vacant—I said that I had two—he said, "I will see what I can do about getting a man or two for a lodger for you next week"—the beds were not in that room, they were in the second pair back—he had lodged there—the whole house is mine.
Prisoner. When you said you had two beds, did not you say I might sleep in one if I wanted a bed? Witness. Certainly not.
Prisoner's Defence. I lived with her when I was very hard up, and the whole property in the house was before me, and I never touched anything. I met Mrs. Vallick in the early part of the week, and said I would come and see her in the course of the week. I went there on Saturday night, and sent for some ale and gin. I asked her if she had any beds. She said, "Yes, two empty; you can sleep in one if you like." I said that the old woman would wonder where I was, and left. I only live forty yards off. I was standing three or four yards from my own door, heard a noise, and went to
see what was the matter. I went half-way up the court to see what was going on, and the gentleman came up and took me.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS defended Robinson.
MARY COWELL . I live at 1, Queen Street, Whitechapel—on 28th November, about 7 o'clock, I fastened up my house—I was in the underground kitchen at I o'clock, and heard a noise as of a shutter breaking—I went up into the room over, looked out at the window, and saw a man at the dead wall nearly opposite—I went into the parlour and saw the shutter bolt lying on the floor, and a pane of glass broken—the shutters open outwards—they are outside the glass—they have the usual fastening, and a little catch at the side—the pane could not have been broken without breaking the shutter first—the window was not opened—they had not time to do that—I looked out for my son, and saw the man who went to the dead wall join two other men—I am quite sure of that—I then saw my son, and spoke to him—he went up to the three men—I kept my eye on them—he brought a policeman, who I told what had occurred—I then returned to my own door, and left my son to watch.
Cross-examined. Q. How far were the two men from your house? A. The width of the road where two vehicles can pass—I saw a man go to the dead wall, and leave it and join two men at the top of the street, which is rather longer that the length of the court from my house—I do not think I lost sight of the three men till my son came out—(The witness's deposition dated, "I may have lost sight of the three men.")
HERBERT COWELL . I live with my mother, the last witness—I came up the street with my brother, about 1.30, and saw my mother—she spoke to me, and in consequence of what she said I called a policeman—I saw three men at the top of the street—the prisoners are two of them—I saw the other man run away—I went and had a look at the two men who were standing under a lamp post—they came half across the road, and I asked them what they wanted—they said, "Mr. Simmonds, of 1, Mount Street"—I said, "This is 1, Green Street"—they said that they lived at No. 8—I said, "Then you must know No. 1, and you must know something of this"—he said, "If you say so I will punch your head," and Robinson knocked me known—he was outside the shutters then—I am quite sure the prisoners are the two men—Robinson was taken at the time, and Egly the following night.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Robinson taken for the burglary, or for the assault? A. For the burglary—they would not take him for the assault, because the policeman did not see him strike me.
MICHAEL HANLEY (Policeman K R 27). I was in Green Street, and saw the prisoners, the prosecutor, and his mother, who made a communication to me, and I went after the prisoners up the street, about 50 yards from the house—I went up to Robinson, and told him he was charged with breaking into No. 1, Green Street—he said that he knew nothing about it, and tripped me up—I took him into custody; Egly ran away.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the son charge him with assault? A. Yes; he wanted to give him in charge for assaulting him, but I took him for burglary.
Egly. Q. Did Robinson give his name and address? A. Not to me—I told him that he was charged with breaking into the house.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Was this after you had gone into the house, come out again, gone 50 yards, and found them, and taken them into custody? A. Yes.
WALTER JAMES (Policeman K R 15). I was in the New Road, Whitechapel, and saw the prisoners standing under a lamp post with a third man, who went away—I was called to the prosecutrix's house, and found the window broken, and the bolt on the floor—I saw Robinson taken for attempting to enter the house; Egly was taken a day or two afterwards.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. DUNDAS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. METCALF the Defence.
JAMES JOHN JACKSON . I am a waterman, of 10, George Street, Commercial Road—last Thursday evening, about 7 o'clock, I had just come to shore in my boat from the other side of the water, but had not landed—the prisoner came to the shore in his boat a minute or two afterwards—he got out of his boat first—I was first sculler, and I had plied the prisoner as a fare, but he took another man—we were not rowing, but I said, "Mr. Start, what is the reason you refused to take me, when I am first sculler? I have never done you harm, you have put many a shilling out of my pocket by refusing to take me"—he has not got a boat, he was a passenger, and was bound by Act of Parliament to take the first sculler—on my complaining to him he stabbed me in my side, near my hip—I saw something shining in his hand, which I supposed to be a knife—I said to Alexander Hughes, who was with me, "Sandy, I am stabbed, pick me up"—I had fallen in the mud, to avoid the blow—Hughes pulled me up—the prisoner had an umbrella in his hand, which he poked at me, and told me not to follow him—I went to the lamp at the top of the street, and found that the knife had gone right through my clothes, and there was a mark on my skin—I went with a constable to the prisoner's house and locked him up—I had not applied any abuse to him coming over—I had passengers in my boat.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you conversing with him in a friendly way? A. Yes; I was on the other side of the river previous to the act being committed, but I did not see him there, because it was dark—I did not hear his voice, or speak to him, for I was not ashore—I did not call out anything—I was lying twenty or thirty feet up—a man named Biggs brought the prisoner over—I did not address Biggs on the other side—I said nothing to the prisoner till I got to this side of the water—I could not see him, and did not know he was coming over till he landed—he goes over and back every day—I do not know whether he is foreman at the place where he works—I said that he would not go over himself in my boat, and would not allow his men to go; that has been the case for about a month—I have never been fined for assaults—I was imprisoned once for seven days, for being drunk and disorderly—we watermen sometimes have altercations between ourselves—when a person comes to take a boat, we ore not all anxious to get him, we all go in our turn, the first sculler takes the first fare—you will find it in the Act—I did not say to Biggs, when he was rowing the prisoner, "You have got the start, and when I have done with this old b—I will have nothing more to do with the old sod"—there was
not a saw on board my boat—I did not say to the prisoner, "I will break your jaw"—I said nothing to him—I was standing on the shore, and I went up the stairs after the assault was committed—I do not remember rowing a fare after I was stabbed—my clothes were penetrated through, and the skin was penetrated—a doctor has not seen it, but the jailor saw it.
MR. DUNDAS. Q. Were you speaking to the passengers in your boat? A. Yes; I was speaking loudly to a passenger, but do not remember what it was about—watermen's disturbances seldom lead to the production of a knife—the waterman who is first sculler expects to be taken first, like a cabman—if he feels aggrieved we have a Hall to complain at—I did not use the expression attributed to me—I do not know whether those in the boat did—I did not notice.
JAMES ANLEY . I am Jack in the Water at Ratcliff Cross Stairs—I saw the prisoner and prosecutor come over the water last Friday evening, at 7 o'clock—the prisoner landed first, and then said to Jackson, the waterman, "Now come out and punch my head"—Jackson said, "If you were a young man I would not mind doing it, but as you are an old man I will have nothing to do with it"—with that Jackson got into conversation with him, why he would not employ him to take his people over the water, and I saw Start with a knife—he opened it, and made a strike at Jackson, who fell in the mud, saying, "Sandy, I am stabbed"—it was a shut-up knife, I saw the blade—I picked Jackson up, he examined himself to see that he was stabbed, and gave the prisoner into custody, who threatened to poke Jackson's eyes out with his umbrella if he followed him—I did not hear the prosecutor threaten the prisoner, or see him hit him.
Cross-examined. Q. Where were you standing? A. At low water mark, alongside both of them—when the prisoner called, "Now will you come and punch my head," Jackson was in his boat, but he went to him directly, close up to him, near enough to strike him, but I am confident he did not strike him—it was dark—they were talking in a very loud tone—Start is foreman of the works, and has a number of men, who go over every day—I have not heard Jackson find fault with him before for not taking his boat—I had not heard them talking on the water before Start said, "Now will you come and punch my head"—those are the first words that were spoken—Jackson's nick-name is The Russian—I have been in trouble, but I have not been in prison for the last fifteen months—I have been in for a good many months, but it was on a false accusation.
MR. DUNDAS. Q. Have you been in prison more than once in your life? A. No—I helped a man ashore from a barge of wool, and was charged with stealing it—if any angry discussion had been going on half way across the water, I could have heard it—there were six or seven boats at low water mark.
ALEXANDER HUGHES . I live at 21, London Street, and am a stoker on board a tug boat—I was standing on the shore at Ratcliff Cross Stairs, and saw Jackson in his boat—Start said to him, "Come ashore and punch my head"—I heard something said about b—people coming across the water with him, and the prisoner made a blow at the prosecutor, who said, "Pick me up, I am stabbed"—I bad seen them both land.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prosecutor strike the prisoner? A. I did not see him.
it—I saw a out, about on inch long, in Jackson's coat and trowsers—I did not examine his shirt.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there any blood at all? A. I did not see any. ROBERT ROACH. I am gaoler at the Thames Police Court—I examined Jackson's coat, waistcoat, trowsers, and shirt, and found a clean cut through the whole of them—his trowsers were cut through a little over the hip bone in front—I saw his hip, there was a slight wound, which was bleeding a little—it ran in the form of a nail, rather round—it scarcely penetrated the skin—it was rather a round wound, about a quarter of an inch in the round—there was some blood on his shirt, where the wound was—from the cuts in the clothes, I should say it was done with a very sharp instrument.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it something of a semi-circle? A. Yes—a round-topped knife would have done it—a hinge, which had been sharpened At the edge, might or might not have done it—I do not know anything about three skins, or about the cuticle—I should say that it did not go through the inner skin, because it was so exceedingly slight, and bled so little—it might have been done by the nail of a working man's thumb, they generally have stronger nails than we have.
MR. METCALF contended that to constitute a wounding there must be a division of the external surface of the body, namely, of the three skin; this had been laid down by Mr. Baron Parke, and could only be proved by a doctor. THE COURT considered that the onus lay upon the prosecutor to prove that the three skins had been severed which had not been done.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DUNDAS offered no evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
The prisoner, in the hearing of the Jury, having stated that he unlawfully wounded the prosecutor, the Jury returned a verdict of GUILTY of unlawfully wounding — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARRIS the Defence.
JOHN HOPKINS . I live at Renfrew Road, Kennington—the prisoner has been in my employ, as milk carrier, for about twelve months—he had to go to Waterloo Station every morning to receive a quantity of milk, to be delivered at St. James's Workhouse, Poland Street, and at Mr. Bonthron's, in Regent Street, who I contract with for milk, to be sent daily—the prisoner as not authorized to sell milk to any other customer—he brought me a complaint from Mr. Bonthron, on 3rd December—the prisoner was in the habit of bringing me bread from Mr. Bonthron—I paid him for the bread, and said, "I find you are in the habit of selling milk, and I shall give you in custody for doing so"—he said, "I sold the milk, but I intended to have given you the money"—on this Thursday he was under notice to leave, and I gave him in charge on Saturday night, 5th December—he has never accounted to me for the money he received from chance customers.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you ever had complaints from the workhouse,
since 2nd December, that the milk was short? A. No; I never received any complaints from the workhouse, because they were made to the prisoner, and he did not tell me—I discharged him for getting drunk and neglecting his work, not for stealing—I heard that he was going to open a business, and was trying to get my customers—when I heard that, I did not offer him a situation at 25s., instead of 22s.—I gave him a week's notice for being drunk—he pleaded very hard for me to keep him on—I told him I would consider, and let him know on the Monday—I did not see him on the Monday; but on Tuesday I offered him a situation at 20s. a week, through his asking me, but he refused to come—I had not then heard that he was going to open for himself, and get my customers; I heard it on Tuesday, Thursday, or Friday, the 4th—I gave him in custody on the Friday—he had no instructions to leave milk in the Westminster Bridge Road, but six or seven mouths ago he did so, by my directions, a pennyworth or three-halfpennyworth—I do not think that was more than once—that was not on his way from the station to the workhouse, but coming from Waterloo Station to my residence—he took milk first from Waterloo Station, and then had to return to Waterloo Station for milk to sell retail—they were in different churns—he never had to take the money for the milk.
JOHN WHITE . I live at 2, Angel Place, Broadwall—on the last day of November, I went into Mr. Hopkins' service—next morning I went with the prisoner to Waterloo Station, to fetch milk, to be delivered at the work-house and at Mr. Bonthron's—on Wednesday, 2nd December, I did the am—when we were delivering the milk at the workhouse, a woman came up with a jug, and the prisoner served her with some milk from Mr. Bonthron's churn, and received the money for it.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there a clerk named Brady at your place at the time? A. Yes—the woman had a jug which would hold three pints—I do not know how much milk he gave her, and I saw her give him some money, which looked like penny pieces—I cannot say how many there were—Brady was the man to receive and book the money—he was taken before a Magistrate, and sentenced to six weeks' imprisonment for stealing money from the prosecutor's till—Brady went with me next morning to see the prisoner selling the milk.
MR. MOODY. Q. Did the woman come there again? A. Yes, and the prisoner served her with milk the same as before, and Brady took the money for it.
SARAH ANN CONDON . I am the wife of William Condon, of 10, Poland Street, Oxford Street—the prisoner has supplied me with milk several times, not regularly, because I have not been up early enough; but not and then, once or twice a pennyworth, and twice or three times with two pennyworth—that was within two months, perhaps—the prisoner had the milk in a small can, in a large can, in a cart—I do not remember the dates.
JOHN PRICE . I am gate keeper at St James's Workhouse, Poland Street—the prisoner has brought me milk from Mr. Hopkins—I have many times complained to him of short measure—I used to see it measured—on 9th November, I was looking through the grating of the doorway, and saw the prisoner take a jug out of a "lady's" hand, and take the top of the churn off, and give it to her—I then opened the gate upon him and said, "Are you selling my milk?"—he said, "Your milk? No, my master gives me from six to eight quarts every morning to sell to his customers, and this
is one of his customers"—I saw him do the same thing on the 10th—I made a memorandum in my book, thinking it might be talked about—on the 13th, I told him he must bring me a ticket to say how much milk there was—on the 14th he came without a ticket and I said, "If you do not bring me a ticket, I shall take no more in"—he said, "My master does not know what you mean, there never was a ticket before"—on the 15th he brought a ticket and the milk was right.
Cross-examined. Q. Did he bring a ticket on 1st December? A. Yes, and the milk was right—the last time he came the milk was two quarts short
to JOHN HOPKINS. Q. Is it correct that the prisoner received seven or eight quarts of milk to be distributed among your customers? A. It is not—he had no right to sell any on that round, and had no money to account for.
MR. HARRIS. Q. Have you no connection round there at all? Q. No, except the workhouse and Mr. Bonthron—the customers I heard he was trying to get were those round my house—after he had been to the work-house and to Mr. Bonthron's, he went a retail round, and then he had authority to sell milk—he took the milk direct from the station, he never brought it to me—my books are here—he accounted every night for all the pennyworths and half-pennyworths, except when he was too drunk to do so—he put down every customer by number.
The Prisoner's Statement before the Magistrate was that wherever he sold milk he took the money home to his matter but being taken from his regular duty he forgot to do so, but paid it in on the Friday.
MR. HARRIS contended that the prisoner was not a bailee, as the milk was never in his master's possession.
COURT to JOHN HOPKINS. Q. Was the milk conveyed to you at the railway station? A. Yes, I open it there, and measure it ready for him.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. MOODY conducted the Prosecution.
GUILTY — Twelve Months Imprisonment .
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, December 17th, 1868.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. LEIGH conducted the Prosecution.JOHN WITHERS. I reside at King's Lynn, Norfolk—on Thursday, 27th November, I was in Duke Street, Whitechapel, about 1.30 in the day—I had 13l. 17s. 6d., in a purse, in my trowsers pocket—I had my hand in my pocket, where my money was—I was going along the street, someone came up and took hold of me, and hit my hat over the face—I took my hand out of my pocket to save my hat, and the prisoner put his hand into my pocket and took my money—I ran after him—I believe the prisoner is the man.
JAMES MCCARTHY . I live at Cooper's Court, Rosemary Lane—on this Friday, about 1.30, I saw the last witness and the prisoner and another boy running—the prosecutor was running after them—he fell over a boy playing at marbles.
PORTER WILLIAM DUNNAWAY . (Police Sergeant H 11) On this Friday I received information of the old gentleman having been robbed, and from what I knew, and the information I received, I apprehended the prisoner.
Prisoner's Defence. The old gentleman said at first he could not identify me. It is the first time I was ever accused in my life.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. COOPER conducted the Prosecution; and MR. CUNNINGHAM defended John Brown
LEWIS LAVENBURG . I am a jeweller and silversmith, at 51, Broad Street, Limehouse—on 28th November, I had eighty six watches and other articles of jewellery, of the value of about 300l., in my shop, and 6s. of silver money in the till—I went to bed about 1.30 and all was then secure—I went down stairs about 7 o'clock in the morning, and found the place had been entered by a back window, and a large iron bar, that went across, was broken—I found all the tickets that had been on the watches scattered about the place—I missed watches and other things, to a large amount—I have seen some property since—it is all mine—this money I had particularly noticed the night before—I left it in the till.
ROBERT SMITH (Police Sergeant K 47). On Sunday morning, 29th November, about 3.45, I was in Charles Street, St. George's—I saw the prisoners in company with two other men—I had known Thomas Brown before—as soon as they saw me, they separated; one came on the same side of the street that I was on—I remained at the corner till John Brown and Thomas and another man came up on the opposite side of the street to me, under a lamp—I went across the street, until the fourth man came up, to see who he was—this was about three-quarters of a mile from the prosecutor's premises—the fourth man turned down a short street, and I ran after him—as soon as the other three saw me running, they immediately commenced running—I turned, and pursued them into the Commercial Road—they walked there, and I walked after them—I got some assistance, and followed them down James Street and several streets, and lost Thomas Brown in Cannon Street Road—I then followed John—he was stopped by a constable, and I took him into custody—I took him to the station, searched him, and found eleven silver watches, and two gold watches in his right hand coat pocket; fifty gold rings in his trowsers pocket; three pairs of earrings, and a brooch; two half-crowns, and a shilling—that property has been
identified by the prosecutor—I asked him how he accounted for them—he said a man gave them to him; he said he was a stranger, and he did not know where he lived.
SAMUEL RICHARDSON (Policeman K 48). I was with the last witness on this morning—I saw John Brown running—I ran after him up several streets, till he ran into the arms of a constable—in the gutter in John Street I found two watches and two gold chains—the prisoner had gone past there just before—they were identified by the prosecutor.
Thomas Brown called
MARGARET SWAINSON . About 11.30 on Saturday, the 28th November, I went to Thomas Brown's house—his wife and I were talking—he came in about 12.10, and said he was very ill, and asked his wife to put a mustard plaster on his side—I stopped there till 11 o'clock the next morning, the 29th, and he never went out.
Cross-examined. Q. What are you? A. I am the prisoner's sister-in-law—I told the Magistrate he came home at 12.10—I don't sleep in the house every night, and can't tell what time he usually comes home.
Cross-examined. Q. You are his mother-in-law? Yes—I never saw John and Thomas together—they are not brothers, and I am sure he is not any relation.
THOMAS BROWN— NOT GUILTY .
JOHN BROWN— GUILTY .**
He further PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction on 22nd January, 1866, at Clerkenwell—Ten Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. GRIFFITHS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIAMS the Defence.
RICHARD BURNE FILLINGHAM . I am a book-keeper in the service of Messrs. Waterlow & Sons, and live at 66, St. Swithin's Lane—on 28th November, about 11 o'clock, I was in Alderman's Walk, Bishopsgate Street—I saw the prisoner there—I went into a urinal there; John Harrison was with me—when I came out, I passed the prisoner—he came behind me, and put his arm round my neck and forced me backwards—I became insensible—when I recovered, I was walking to the station with the prisoner and a policeman—I missed my scarf pin at the station-house; I charged the prisoner with stealing it—I felt the effects for the next day or two afterwards—I was sore about my mouth, and there was a cut on my mouth—the prisoner is the man—I saw him when I passed him, and he looked at me.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you been drinking? A. No, with the exception of having a glass or two of ale, I was sober—I was not so drunk that a bus conductor refused to take me—a conductor did refuse to take me, but it was on the ground that there was no room—Harrison was a waiter—I knew him at two or three places—I went into a public-house with him after the conductor had refused to take me—I gave him a glass of ale—I heard the Magistrate tell Harrison that it was very wrong—Harrison was with
me, and saw the prisoner attack me, and he ran after him for about a quarter of a mile—I charged the prisoner with stealing a ring, but I found it in my bedroom afterwards.
JOHN HARRISON . I am a waiter, at 55, Duke Street, Waterloo Road—on this evening, the 28th, I was with the prosecutor—I saw the prisoner in Alderman's Walk—he took the prosecutor's pin from his scarf, and ran away—the prosecutor was standing up, and the prisoner put his hand round his neck and took the pin—I ran after the prisoner, calling "Stop thief?—he was stopped in Broad Street, by a scavenger—I ran about a quarter of a mile after him.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you know the prosecutor before? A. I had seen him coming into the place where I live—I met him coming from Shore-ditch, towards London Bridge—he wanted to take a bus, but they would not let him in, as he had had a glass to drink—he was rather quarrelsome with the conductor—I met him quite accidentally—we had something to drink—the prosecutor was not hurt—there was two or three others runing besides the prisoner, before me.
THOMAS JOHN RAMSEY (City Policeman 913). About 11.30 on this Saturday night I was in Broad Street—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!" and I saw the prisoner running out of Alderman's Walk, and down London Wall—I followed him, and he was stopped by a scavenger—there was no one running in front of the prisoner—there were several running behind, crying "Stop thief!"—the last witness charged him—he was very violent—refused his address.
Cross-examined. Q. How far had the prisoner run? A. Not far short of a quarter of a mile—I went through a court and came right upon him—he was charged with stealing a pin.
GUILTY of an assault, with intent to rob. He also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction, at Clerkenwell, on 24th September, 1866— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
OLD COURT.—Friday, December 18th, 1868.
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MR. HARRIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BROMLEY the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
The prosecutor did not appear.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment for an assault. No evidence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS GRAY . I live at Hoxton—on 12th November last, between 10 and 11 o'clock, the prisoner brought me a pony—he said it was his father's property, that he did not want to part with it altogether, but any person who liked to use it for his keep could have it—he asked if I could stable it for that night—he said, "You seem to be a very good master of cattle, you can use it on the same terms"—on the next morning I saw him again, and then he said, "I will sell you this horse"—I said it was not a horse as I should like to purchase—there was a man going by, drawing some sawdust, and I said, "It would do for such a man as that"—he went across the road, and asked the man to buy it—I thought his tale was wrong, and I gave information to the police, and he was taken into custody.
ALFRED RANKLIN (Policeman N 338). I was sent for to Mr. Gray's, on 13th November—I saw the prisoner there, with a pony—I asked him how the pony came into his possession—he said, "It was left me by my father, at Handlyn, in Dorsetshire"—I asked him how it came there—he said, "By the South Western Railway"—I said I was not satisfied with his statement, and I should charge him with the unlawful possession of the horse—he tried to get away—on the way to the station he said to me, "I may as well tell you the truth, I was going to sell it for a man who was going to give me 5s. for selling her"—Mr. Wood saw the pony afterwards.
CHARLES THOMAS WOOD . I live at Battersea—I had a pony in a field at Wandsworth, on 12th November—I missed it, and saw it afterwards at Mr. Gray's house—I never authorized the prisoner to take it and deal with it in any way—I am not his father.
Prisoner's Defence. I am not guilty of stealing it I was going to sell it for a man for 5s.
He also PLEADED GUILTY to a previous conviction, in October, 1867.*— Seven Years' Penal Servitude .
THE COURT ordered a reward of 2l. to Mr. Gray.
MR. BROMLEY conducted the Prosecution.
NOT GUILTY .
OLD COURT.—Monday, December 21st, and Tuesday, December 22nd, 1868.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. H. S. GIFFARD. Q. C., with MESSRS. POLAND and BEASLEY, conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT TINDAL ATKINSON, with MESSRS. STRAIGHT and GRAIN, the Defence.
FRANCIS EDGAR WOODWARD . I am a short-hand writer—in April last, I was present at the Court of Probate, at the trial of the suit of "Christmas and another v. Woods"—it was tried before Sir James Wilde—the prisoner was sworn and examined as a witness on the first day, the 18th, in support of the plaintiff's case—I took notes of the first portion of his evidence down to the end of page twenty-two in this transcript—this is a correct transcript—I have my original notes here.
LUKE NUNNELY . I am a short-hand writer—I was present during a portion of the trial of "Christmas and another v. Woods"—I took the remaining portion of the prisoner's evidence, from page twenty-three of this transcript to the end—I have my original notes here—the transcript produced is accurate.
The evidence given by the prisoner in the Probate Court was read at length, together with the will and various documents referred to in the course of it. In substance it was as follows: that one Robert Dalton, a labourer in his employ, being entitled to a share in some property left by one Henry Trimmer, having repeatedly urged him to advocate his claims, he was induced to make inquiries into the matter, and ultimately found the will in question in the cover of an old book, called the "Contra Book" amongst a number of papers belonging to Henry Trimmer, and that his wife and two sons were present when he found it. He also described the finding in a box of other documents, referred to and described in the evidence.
MR. WOODWARD (re-examined). I have looked at some short-hand writing which appears on the lining of this box—it looks like short-hand, but it is not my system—I cannot read it.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. It is not sanscrit? A. I am not acquainted with sanscrit—there are a great many systems of short-hand.
COURT. Q. I suppose you always adopt one system? A. Yes; I only know one system—I dare say there are forty or fifty—whether this applies to any other system than my own, I don't know.
FREDERICK GEORGE SEATON . I am assistant record keeper in the Probate Court—I produce an original will of John Neale, dated 10th August, 1826; it was proved on 10th November, 1829—I also produce an original will of Henry Trimmer, dated 27th May, 1844; proved 22nd July, 1864—it is attested by Mr. J. C. Parnell, of Portsea, solicitor, and Charles Cole, clerk to Messrs. Howard and Parnell, solicitors, Portsea—I also produce the record of a suit in the Probate Court, of John Christmas and Edward James against George Woods—I have the postea here—the cause was commenced on 18th April, 1868, and continued on 22nd and 23rd.
(It appeared by the record that the issue was as to the validity of the will in question, alleged to be made by Henry Trimmer, on 23rd December, 1846; that the cause was tried by the Judge without a Jury, and that judgment was given against the will.
(The will of John Neale was then read, by which the testator gave a lift interest in his property to his widow, and then to his daughter, Mary Ann, and in default of her issue one-third to Richard Trimmer, the father of Henry Trimmer.)
JOHN COUSINS PARNELL . I am a solicitor—I have practiced at Portsea for about thirty-five years—I knew George Woods, a sadler there, he was a client of mine—in 1844, I saw a person named Henry Trimmer—George Woods brought him to me to make a will—I took instructions for the will from Henry Trimmer—I asked him whether he had any relations—he replied that he had, and he further observed, that his relations did not care for him, and he did not care for them; Mr. Woods had been the best friend he had in this world, and he was desirous of leaving whatever he had to him—this (produced) is the will which I made; it is dated 27th May, 1844; it was signed by Henry Trimmer, in my presence—I had previously read it over to him—I attested it; it bears my attestation, and the second witness
was my clerk, Mr. Cole—I believe Mr. Woods paid me for making the will; it was 7s.—the will mentions, "Plate, linen, pictures," and so on—the testator did not tell me anything with regard to that; it was taken from one of our forms used in the office—Trimmer did not say what property it was—he could not give any idea of it—he made a rambling statement—I can't tell what it was; he had expectancies—my managing clerk drew the will—the will was not proved till July, 1864; that was by my advice—I heard of the testator's death from Mr. Woods—the reason the will was not proved was, that we could not ascertain that the testator had left any property—I wrote to Mr. Mellish, and could get no particular information as to the value, and under my advice the will was proved under 20l.—I had charge of the will from the time it was made up to the time it was proved; it was in my possession—Mr. George Woods, in whose favour it was made, is dead—I can't tell exactly when he died; I proved his will—the George Woods, who was the defendant in the suit in the Probate Court, is his son, and the residuary legatee under his father's will.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. This appears to have been a very sudden thing; you had no previous intimation of this man coming to make his will? A. No, I have not got my diary with me; I keep one; I was not told to bring it—I have refreshed my memory by examining it—I did not think it worth while to risk my books by bringing it—it is a daybook of that year—Trimmer had no friend with him when he came to me, besides Mr. Woods—I asked him if he had any relations—it was a very natural observation—I had never seen him before—I knew he was no relation of Woods—I did not know that at that time he had two brothers and a sister living—the will was made from a stock form that we have (It was put in and read)—Mr. Woods and the testator called a few days before the will was made, to give instructions—the will was not drawn at the same time—it would be impossible in my practice to have done it all directly—he came afterwards and executed the will—the idea I have upon my mind, at this distance of time, is, that the man had expectancies—I thought it was quite an imaginary thing on his part—I think the word expectancy is mine—I don't say that the word was used at the time; it was my idea—I know he had no property then—he was not possessed of anything at that moment—I will not swear whether he used the word expectancies—the man wanted to make a will in favour of Mr. Woods—Mr. Woods did not coerce him.
MR. POLAND. Q. Were you at all aware whether he had any property at that time, of any sort or kind? A. None whatever, certainly not; he wanted to leave whatever he might have hereafter; he could not give me any idea of what his expectancies were—my clerk drew the form of the will from another form—that is the usual thing—I took the instructions from Henry Trimmer, and he called two or three days afterwards to execute the will; and I saw him about twelve months afterwards—he came in with Mr. Woods—he appeared to know perfectly well what he was doing—from what I saw between them he and Woods were on very friendly terms—Mr. Woods was a very respectable man, his son is carrying on the same business now—I had not my diary or day book at the Police Court—I was not asked about it until to-day—I can have it brought up if you wish it.
CHARLES COLE . I am a solicitor, in partnership with Mr. Edgcumb, at Portsea—in 1844 I was clerk to Messrs Howard & Parnell—I have no recollection of drafting this will—this draft (produced) is in my hand-writing—I
afterwards copied it into this will—the will is my writing, taken from that draft—I am one of the attesting witnesses to the will—I saw the testator, Henry Trimmer, sign it—I also saw Mr. Parnell sign it.
Cross-examined. Q. You have no recollection about it, I believe, except from what you see before you? A. That is all, nothing more, it is so long ago—I have a faint remembrance that Trimmer was a tall, thin, spare man—I was not present at any conversation that had previously taken place between Mr. Woods and Mr. Parnell, and know nothing whatever about the circumstances—I was merely sent for to prepare the draft—it was taken from us ordinary stock precedent that would suit anyone
. JANE JAMES . I am the wife of Edmund James, a farmer, at Thursday, near Godalming—in 1846 we were living at a place called Lynchmere, about fifteen miles from Farnham—there was no railway or public conveyance between the two places when we were living at Lynchmere—I knew Richard Trimmer—I believe he died about 1841 or 1842—I knew the members of his family—he bad two sons, named John and Henry, and a daughter named Susannah—she married a man named Henry White—the issue of that marriage was a daughter, Mary; she is now Mrs. Dalton—there was another daughter, Thyrza; she married Caleb Christmas—and a third daughter, named Martha; she was married to a Mr. Trussler—John Trimmer is dead, and Susannah is dead—her husband, Mr. White, is living—the three daughters, Mary, Thyrza, and Martha, are living—Henry Trimmer lived with us when we were at Lynchmere—he made our house his home—we left there in August, 1847—we had lived there seventeen years—I can't say exactly when Henry Trimmer came to live with us—he used to go backwards and forwards—he would came and stop, and go away, and come back again—I remember his being ill—there was no doctor in the village, and he went to Farnham, to stay with the Kimber's, at the Jolly Farmers—he was a miller by trade; a working miller, employed by Mr. Beales—I recollect his coming to visit us after he had left to go to the Kimber's—he had left this box (produced) at our house—I think he had left us in Michaelmas, 1846, before he came to see us—he left the box in my possession—it was locked, and he took the key with him—I remember him coming to pay us a visit, a day or two before Christmas Day, 1846—I don't know what he came for—he stayed all night—he did not stay Christmas—I asked him to stay and spend Christmas with us, and he said no, he would come again—he stayed one night, and then went back to the Kimber's still leaving the box in our possession—I never saw him after that—I heard of his death some time in February—the box was still in my possession, locked—after I heard of his death, Mr. James and I broke open the box—we considered it our property, because of a piece paper he had left—this is the piece of paper he left (No. 1 produced)—I saw him write it withh is own hands, and give it to me (Read: "Mr. and Mrs. James. I give to you all you have got of mine in your persition, if I don't want it for my own self. I hope you will keep it for the, in remembrance for me. Witness my hand, this day, 20th of June, 1840, Henry Trimmer.")—In consequence of that I thought that the things in the box belonged to us—there was nothing but papers in the box, and an old book at the bottom of the box—we did not look at the papers—I never opened the book, and I never saw any will—I did not see any papers relating to his property at all—after I had broken the box open his brother John called on me—that was a month or six weeks after Henry Trimmer's death—he brought the key of the box with him—he asked if
Henry had not got some things there—I said, "Yes,"—then he said, could he see in the box, and he went to look, but I said "Wait a bit," and I brought the piece of paper to him—he read it and said, "I have nothing to do with it"—he said the papers were of no service to him, and he would not have them—he went away, and I never saw him again—when Henry Trimmer died, he owed us 22l. and some odd shillings, for board and lodging—he had a watch, but he took that away with him when he went to the Kimber's, he always carried it with him—I never had it after his death—I gave some of the papers that were left in my possession, to a Mr. Chalcraft, of Bohunt, near Liphook—that was about the beginning of May—he was related to the Kimbers—I kept the box, and the book, and the papers—in August, 1847, we removed, and went first to Elstead and then to Thursley—we took with us the box containing the papers—I had a daughter with me at that time, named Jane—she wanted a bonnet box, and I cleared the things out of the large wooden box and placed them in a bandbox, and put it up in the attic—that was twelve years ago, last September—the papers remained in the bandbox in the attic, undisturbed, till last September twelvemonth—I had the box in my possession all that time—my daughter married, and left me—in September, last year, I remember Mr. and Mrs. Dalton calling upon me, that is the one who was Mary White—Mr. Dalton looked like a labourer; they asked if we knew anything of Henry Trimmer's concerns, any writing, or anything I could show them with his name on—I said I had a piece of paper—I fetched the piece of paper and showed it to them; they looked at it; they then asked if they might bring a gentleman to see it, and to hear what I knew about Mr. Trimmer—I said they might—that was on the Friday morning—they came again on the Monday or Tuesday, and brought Mr. Spong with them—he asked me what I knew, and I showed him that piece of paper—he said the piece of paper might be of great service to him, or something to that purpose—he then asked had I not a box belonging to Henry Trimmer—I said "Yes," and I went up stairs and brought the box down—he said might he take it away—I said he might, and then he said, were there any papers, or anything that I took out of it—I said yes, I thought there was, and I got a light and got the old bandbox, where the old book and papers were, from the attic—it had not been disturbed since I took it there—it was covered with cobwebs and mortar—I saw the book in the bandbox, but I never meddled with it—the prisoner said, would I allow him to take it away and look over it; and I said, yes, it was no use—I told him there was something owing for board and lodging; he asked how much, and I said 22l. odd—he wanted to know how we priced the box—I said I did not know, but if they got their property I expected to be paid for it, because it was my property—the bandbox was put in the wooden box, and then that was corded up and taken away in a cart—my husband corded the box, I was present—Mr. and Mrs. Dalton and the prisoner left, taking the box with them in a cart—it was on a Tuesday, but I don't recollect the day of the month—I received this letter two days after, by post
CHARLES PEARSON PRITOHARD . I am acquainted with Spong's handwriting—I believe this letter and signature to be in his writing, and the address—(Read: "Bradburne Vale, Sevenoaks, 11th September, 1867. Dear madam. Is the box that I now have of Henry Trimmer's exactly as he used it, or has it been lined with paper since? Did Henry Trimmer have the use of that box up to a short time before his death, and if so, up to
what time; that is, how many months before he died? I think I understood you to say you had been living at your present residence before 1846, if not, please name your residence between 1845 and 1847, by return of post. Signed, John Spong.")—Addressed to Mrs. E. James, Thursley, near Godalming; post mark, 11th September.
WILLIAM HENRY POLLARD . I am a clerk in the office of the Solicitor to the Treasury—I am conducting this prosecution—I served the prisoner, personally, with a notice to produce, on Saturday, 12th December.
MR. PRITCHARD. I never had the letters, or one of the letters, from Mrs. James.
JANE JAMES (re-examined). The box had not been re-lined—he had it just as it was when Henry Trimmer left it—I stated that in my letter—I also told him when I left Lynchmere to go to Elstead—I told him that the last time I saw Henry Trimmer was at our place, just before Christmas.
MR. PRITCHARD. I believe this letter and envelope to be in the prisoner's handwriting.
JANE JAMES (re-examined). On 15th October, I received this letter by post (Read: "15th October, 1867. To Mr. E. James, Hill Farm, Thursley. Dear sir,—I have to state that I have discovered a will of the late Henry Trimmer, and that you are appointed in it as joint executor with Mr. J. Christmas, of Liphook. Your expenses are provided for, and a small gift for your trouble. I will see you shortly on the subject of proof. Yours truly, John Spong. Please remember me to Mrs. James. The Whites will now get their rights.")—That came to me by post—up to that time I was not aware that Henry Trimmer had left a will, or that my husband had been appointed executor—he used to say he had property to come to him, if he was spared to come into it—I never noticed anything about this book—I never opened it—I never noticed any pencil marks on the box; I never looked.
MR. PRITCHARD. I believe this letter to be in the prisoner's handwriting.
JANE JAMES (re-examined). I received this letter by post (Read: "Kent, Sevenoaks, 19th October, 1867. Mr. James. Dear sir,—Please meet me at Liphook on Monday next, at 2 o'clock, at Mr. J. Christmas's there, grocer, and oblige, yours truly, John Spong.")—In consequence of that letter, we went to Liphook, to Mr. Christmas's, and saw the prisoner then—he said, since he had seen us he had discovered a will—I said, "Where might you have found it?"—he said, "In the book that laid at the bottom"—he read a copy of the will, or something, to us—my husband had to sign some papers after—I only saw the prisoner once after that.
MR. PRITCHARD. I believe this letter to be in the prisoner's handwriting.
JANE JAMES (re-examined). I received this by post (Read: "To Mr. E. James, Hill Farm, Thursley, near Godalming. Kent, Sevenoaks, 25th October, 1867. Dear sir,—Mr. Pritchard will write to you, and name the day and time for you to meet a Commissioner at Liphook, to sign the necessary papers for proving the will of Henry Trimmer. He had fixed for you to attend in London, with Mr. Christmas, on Monday next, but I thought it would save you trouble to do what was necessary at Liphook.
Faithfully yours, John Spong.")—He said he found the will in the old book, between the cover and apiece of paper pasted on the cover, and kept in by a pin—Mr. James and I afterwards saw Mr. Pritchard, he came to our house on 11th November following, and took down our evidence; and in April, in the present year, I was examined as a witness at the Court, at Westminster.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. I believe this poor man Trimmer was a great friend of yours, was he not? A. Yes; he was—he was a very kindly-disposed man, and was popular among the people in our place; everybody received him kindly—he had a brother and a sister—his sister Susannah's three little girls used to come to our house to see him at different times when he was there—it might be two or three years before 1846—he was always very kind to them—they were a united family; no quarrels of any kind; he spoke very kindly of them—I know of no reason why, in 1844, he should go to Portsea and make a will in favour of a perfect stranger—it was not from any quarrel among his brothers and sister—he never told me that he had made a will—I never heard him speak of the Woods—he was away at times; he did not always say where he was going—he might have gone to Portsea in 1844—he was a close man—he always kept the key of the box; I never saw in it—his health was generally bad—he was in a decline; he always had a bad cough—he was in his fortyeighth year when he died—Mrs. Kimber was his first cousin—when he left us, he went to reside with them—they kept an inn called the Jolly Farmers, at Farnham; they were very respectable people—while he was staying with them he would frequently come over to see us—Thursday was market day, and he would come over with some of the people—there was a good deal of marketing going forward between our place and Farnham, and he might often get a turn backwards and forwards—he owed us some money, and he wrote this piece of paper, giving us what we had in our possession of his—he frequently said, "I have no money, but when I come to my property, you shall be rewarded," he said so several times—he had a notion that he was coming to some property—he used to have a copy of Mr. Neale's will, and was very frequently reading it—he would speak about his father, Richard Trimmer, that his father had spent a good deal of money, but no harm—he always said he expected some property—he generally talked about it when he was sitting down and conversing—he was with us between four and five years, backwards and forwards—three or four years before 1846 he talked about his property—he had the notion that he was coming into property, all the time he was living with us—before I saw Mr. Spong, Mr. and Mrs. Dalton came over to us, that was on the Friday evening—Mrs. Dalton was one of the nieces of Henry Trimmer—there were three—I can't say whether he was in the habit of seeing them before he died; yet there is no doubt he did, but they were little girls at that time—I don't know how long Mr. and Mrs. Dalton have been married—someone had told them that Henry Trimmer, their uncle, had made our house his home, and they came to see if they could get any intelligence concerning a will, or anything—they mentioned that there was a will in favour of a Mr. Woods, that he had given his property away to the Woods—I think they said they thought it was a forgery, and they gave that as a reason why they were anxious to have some writing of Henry Trimmer's—it was after that they said they should like to bring a gentleman to see what we knew, and to see that bit
of paper—this box was kept in a bed room which belonged to Trimmer: it was a room that was always kept for his own use—it was down stairs that I was talking with the Dalton's—they were with me, it might be, about two hours, or from that to three hours, on that occasion—we had a very long talk over the whole family matters—I was interested in the family, of course, knowing them all—Mr. Spong came on the Tuesday with Mr. and Mrs. Dalton—they introduced him to me as a friend of theirs, Mr. Spong; that is all I recollect of it—I told Mr. Spong all I knew about Henry Trimmer; his habits, and so on, as well as I could recollect—the Dalton's talked it over about the will not being a genuine will—they wanted Henry Trimmer's signature and writing to got their property—they said there was a good deal of property, and it was kept back from them—they did not say anything at that interview, to my recollection, about going up to London to see Woods' will—my husband was present on these occasions; he is rather deaf—Henry Trimmer came over a day or two before Christmas Day; I think it was the day before, and he went away on Christmas Day, in the morning—I can't recollect how he came; I did not ask him—he used to get a lift with the market people—he left on Christmas morning, and said he would come back again—I saw the Dalton's at Mrs. Christmas's, at Liphook, when we went there to meet Mr. Spong—they had not been to our house in the mean time—it was in April, 1847, as near as I can guess, when John Trimmer came over to our house, bringing the key of the box with him—he went up into the room where the box was; it was there, lying open—he might be there two or three hours, not in the room but down stairs, because he had some refreshment—when we first broke open the box it was full of old news-papers and different papers, and there were some old buckles, and a variety of things—there was no money, or plate, pictures, or jewellery—the buckles were old brass ones, that Mr. Trimmer used to wear in his shoes—the things did not amount to 22l.—I turned over the papers in the box—I read some of the letters; I did not read any of the other things—I pushed them all in again till I took the papers out afterwards, and made a clothes box of it—I did not see an old will of Mary Trimmer's—the box was not corded or fastened up again; there it would have been, open to anybody who came into the room—I was not absent from my home for a day, from Christmas to February—I might have been for an hour or two, but I don't think I was.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. It was in the year 1846, on Christmas Eve, I think, you say that Henry Trimmer came to you? A. Yes; he had lived with us for two or three months before that; that was the last time he said with us—when he came over on the Christmas Eve he only staid that night—I remember asking him to stay the Christmas with us, and he refused to do so, but promised to come again—I never saw him again alive: that, I am quite sure of—he was very poorly then, quite ill—I can't say exactly how soon after his death it was that the box was broken open—it was open when John came—he would not have the papers—he did not look at them, he would not—he said they were no use to him—he went away without looking at or touching the papers, and I never saw him afterwards—I think he died the next year—Henry Trimmer's nieces were little girls, perhaps four or five years old, when they came to see him—Mary and Martha were twins, Thyrza was the eldest—at the time of Henry Trimmer's death, I dare say she was a grown up young woman—I had not seen any of them for three or four years before Henry Trimmer's death—when Mr. Spong came, in September, 1867, he came with Mr. and Mrs. Dalton—I went and
fetched the box down stairs, and took it into the room where they were—when the Daltons came on the previous occasion, they had not seen the box or the papers, only No. 1, which gave us the authority—when the box was brought down where the Daltons and Mr. Spong were, it was set in the passage, as they sat in the room adjoining—then I took the bandbox in, and showed Mr. Spong, and he said, "Will you allow me to take it away?" and it was put in the box and corded up, just as it was—it was never meddled with—there was no opportunity for the Daltons to put anything in the and box—the box was never touched after it was corded—my husband corded it.
COURT Q. You saw Henry Trimmer write occasionally? A. Yes; he wrote this paper, No. 1, in my presence and my husband's—I don't think he understood short-hand, I never saw him write it.
EDMUND JAMES . I am a farmer, living at Thursley, near Godalming, and husband of the last witness—I remember Henry Trimmer living with us; he left in the year 1846, about Christmas—he only stayed with us one day and night on that visit—I believe he came on the 24th, and left on the 25th, in the morning—I asked him to stop and spend the Christmas, but he said he must get back, to see his doctor; we had no doctor nearer than Liphook and Haslemere—I did not see him alive after that; he was never at our house afterwards—he had been there in the summer before, from ten to twelve weeks, I don't justly know—he was not in very good health, he always complained and coughed, and was very particular in what he ate—I remember this large box; it was left at our house when he went away, and it was at our house when he died, and for years after; it had not been moved before his death, it was never interfered with, he had the room to himself—after he left us at Christmas, I heard of his death, and after that I opened the box; it was looked, I did not know where to find the key; it appears that his brother John brought it afterwards; Henry Trimmer had taken it away with him—the box was left looked at our place—it was some time after his death that I broke it open; he had left that little note with Mrs. James, we both saw him write it, on our table, she got the paper for him to write it, and I considered the box was my property, and I broke it open; there was nothing in it particular; there were a few papers, and one thing or other in the box, all the lot of it was not worth 5s.; all the property there was not worth 6d, there was no plate or jewellery—he owed me 22l. for lodging—I never looked at any papers then, I turned them out, I saw there was nothing of any consequence, and so off I went, and I never looked into the box for twenty-two years, till it was in Court—I remember receiving this letter of 15th October, 1867—up to that time I had not heard that Henry Trimmer had made a will and made me executor; he had always said he would see me righted, that was all I heard; I heard him say so many a time—I had lent him many a shilling and half-crown, if he wanted to go anywhere, and he has said "I shall never pay you, but I will make you amends some day or other"—I was at home when the box was taken away; I corded it up, and Dalton, and Mr. Spong, and Dalton's wife, I believe, took it away; they put it in a cart.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you hear your wife examined just now? A. Yes; I heard a good deal of it—I was close by when the Daltons came over, before Mr. Spong came—they never went in doors; they drove up to the door and asked for me, Mrs. James told them I was out in the field just beyond, and they came after me—I came in directly, as soon as they
went in doors—I did not hear Mr. and Mrs. Dalton say anything about Woods' will—Henry Trimmer was a good-natured, kind fellow, from what I knew, nice, and clean, and honest—I was brought up close alongside of him—I have seen his handwriting—(Looking at the alleged forged will) the word "Farnham" there, is not his—the name "Henry Trimmer," is a good deal like it; I believe it is his writing—he usually signed his name pretty much in the same way, a good deal like that.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. How many times have you ever seen Henry Trimmer sign his name? A. I don't know; I have seen him write a little note to send anywhere, to any friend, or anything, not very particular—he was at my place, you know, four or five years, off and on; he was like one of my own—I can't tell exactly how often I have seen him sign his name; I have seen him sign it several times; I am quite sure of that—he generally used to write a little larger than that from a schoolboy—I tell you as I did before, I don't know whether it is his writing or not—possibly—I won't say whether it is right or wrong.
JANE JAMES (re-examined). I have seen Henry Trimmer write more than once—he would frequently write at our place—this signature seems to me to correspond with the piece of paper that he wrote—I certainly do believe it to be his handwriting.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. When was the last time you saw him write? A. It may be two or three months before he left our place; he was writing some letters, and he has written letters for me at times—I don't think this signature is more schoolboy like, or larger—I think it corresponds with the piece of paper that I saw him write, giving us the authority—I saw him write frequently; I should say this was his handwriting—I think it is—he would sometimes write larger—that or the piece of paper is a little larger than this—I am not a good writer—I think I know Henry Trimmer's handwriting.
JANE GREY . I am the wife of George Grey, and am the daughter of Mr. and Mrs. James—I knew Henry Trimmer—I heard of his death—I remember the papers, book, and things being taken out of the box afterwards and put into the band box—I did not see it done—I afterwards used the wooden box; it was my wardrobe for dresses and bonnets—I was not at all aware that this book contained a will—I have seen the book, but did not notice anything about it, or about the box—I did not notice any writing on the lining of the box.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. I suppose you had no reason for observing any writing on it, had you? A. No—I remember the box quite well; I used it for my dresses—I never noticed the book—whatever it had inside I was unconscious of—I never saw the inside of it—when I saw the box, it was nearly full of old papers; I don't know what they consisted of.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. For how many years did you use the box? A. Two or three years—I went to it from time to time, and used it till I was married.
RICHARD BEALES . I am a miller—the deceased, Henry Trimmer, was for Borne years in my father's employment—I remember the whole of the time he was there—I can hardly tell you the time, but he left in 1842, I believe—I don't recollect the time he came—I did not notice, but I can easily ascertain it—I should think ho was there two or three years—I remember Mr. Spong coming to me last year; I can't give you the date positively, but I believe it was in August—a person, who I afterwards knew as Mrs. Dalton, had been to me previously—when Mr. Spong came, he asked me if I could find
any writing of Henry Trimmer's, and more particularly if I could find his signature—I said I would try and see if I could find any of his writing, which I did in that book (produced)—I am not sure whether I gave it to the prisoner, or to Mrs. Dalton—I think they were both present at the time—I think Mrs. Dalton also came with him when he came, but I am not sure that I found the book then—I think, perhaps, it was afterwards—Mr. Spong only came to my house once, I believe—there is an entry in the book about Henry Trimmer's leaving; it is in my writing, in pencil; "The day Henry Trimmer left"—I can tell from this that he left on 4th October, 1842—I referred to the ledger and found the day that he was paid for his services, and I made that minute when I gave up the book—I can't find any of his writing after that date—the entry in ink does not show that he left that day; it would only show anyone who knew his handwriting that it is his writing—it is "Thomas Wheeler, a sack of flour, ground; John Baker, two bushels of barley, ground"—that is the last entry I can find of his in the book—I made the pencil memorandum to give the date he left to whoever I gave the book to, Mr. Spong or Mrs. Dalton, as they wished to know when he left—I suppose that must be it—I don't see why I should do it without—I had not the slightest interest myself in knowing when he left—the ledger showed the last day he was settled with—this book does not contain any signature of Henry Trimmer, that I am aware of—I did not see the book again till I saw it in the Probate Court—I understood Mr. Spong that he required Henry Trimmer's signature to test a will that he considered forged—I understood him that Dalton was employed by him, and he felt an interest on his behalf, on account of his working for him.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. With regard to the time when he came to you, I think you are not certain whether it was in August, or later? A. I am not quite sure—I was examined as to this matter in the Probate Court; I believe I said there, I forgot the date—I never have been positive; there was nothing to fix it in my memory—whether it was August, September, or October, I am not certain; I am more certain now from inquiry, but I was not at all certain when I gave evidence in the Probate Court—I have seen this will that is in dispute—I was accustomed to Trimmer's handwriting—if this signature to the will was shown to me in the ordinary way of business, I should take it for his writing, and the date also—I know him very well, and his writing, too—but for this inquiry, I should have been satisfied with it in the ordinary way—I have made ticks against certain writing of his in this book, which I can swear to, at pages 152, 153, 154, 155, 156, and 157; I believe there is no signature of his in the book—I believe Mrs. Dalton first called upon me—I am not sure if Dalton was there; in fact, I did not know him—I think it was Mrs. Dalton and her father; I am not quite positive as to that; it may have been the father or Dalton—I am positive a man and woman came—that could not have been very long before Mr. Spong came—it was all about one time, shortly after—it might be a week, or two or three, perhaps; I should think something of that sort—in the course of conversation, Mrs. Dalton, or the man who was with her, said something about a will in favour of Woods, which was not a genuine will; that was the reason they gave me for requiring the signature—the body of this will is quite in a different handwriting from Henry Trimmer's—I knew him when he was residing at the Jolly Farmers; I don't recollect the date ho was there—I knew a man name John Avenal, of Farnham—he was not an attorney's clerk—I was not
aware that he made people's wills—I know he was living there about that time—I went to school with him—I should not like to speak to his writing—I can hardly tell you what he was doing; it was very little; odd things, nothing particular—I should say he was pretty much at home with his father.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. When did he die? A. I can't tell exactly; he has not been dead very many years—I knew him up to the time of his death—at the time Henry Trimmer left the mill, in 1842, I was about sixteen or seventeen years of age—I never saw him write after he left, that I am aware of—now my attention has been called to this signature, I have a doubt about it; I have noticed since that there is a difference in the formation of the letters—(Looking at a paper, marked A) I have seen this before; it is very like Henry Trimmer's writing, but I don't think he did it—I have seen it two or three times—I should certainly say it was not his; it is something very much like it, though, in my opinion—I have a doubt about it altogether—the first part of it I certainly think is not done by him, therefore, it leaves a doubt on my mind as to all—it is very like it; I can't answer any other than that—I hardly know what I believe—I hope you won't ask me any more; I think I have said all I can say; I have said what I really think—the prisoner showed me this paper, to the best of my belief, at Farnham, at the Lion and Lamb—I can't give the date; it was about the same time that he called upon me—he followed up his visits at Farnham to me, although he only came to my house once; it was all about the same time, within a week or two—when I was asked in the Probate Court, I had no memory of the exact date when the prisoner came to me; neither do I recollect now, nearer than I have told you—I am confident it was more than three or four months before I was examined in the Probate Court that I saw him first; it is from recollecting since that I believe it to have been in August, 1867—I have thought a little of it since.
SAMUEL GEORGE SLOMAN . I am a surgeon, at Farnham—I have been in practice there about twenty-six or twenty-seven years—I have my books here for 1846-7—the entries in this book are from December 12th, 1846, to February 13th, 1847—this paper contains a correct list of my visits, which I took last night from the entries in my books—all that I know of the case is from the entries in my books; I have no doubt from those that I attended Henry Trimmer, inasmuch as I should not have entered them unless I had attended him—I visited him in December, on the 12th, 14th, 17th, 19th, 20th, 22nd, 24th, 26th, 28th, 30th, 31st; the dates in January are, 1st, 3rd, 5th, 6th, 8th, 10th, 12th (twice on the 12th), 13th, 15th, 17th, 19th, 21st, 23rd, 25th, 27th, 29th, 31st; and in February, 2nd, 4th, 6th, 8th, 10th, 12th, and 13th: after the 13th I find no entry—I have not the slightest recollection of the case beyond this—judging from the medicines be had, I should consider that he was very ill.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. You have no memory of the facts, except what is entered there? A. Not the slightest—I had a partner and an assistant at that time, they would attend in my absence, but all those entries are in my handwriting; the entries are of medicines only, I have no entry of visits—whether the patient took the medicine or not, I can't say—where he was during the time I can't tell, or whether he was able to take a twenty mile journey.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. May I take it, that from the ordinary practice of a medical man, you would not supply physic of that kind without investigation the condition of the patient? A. Certainly; judging from these entries,
I have no doubt the patient was visited every other day, and I am inclined to think he was visited much more frequently—I should not have given that character of medicine unless the state of his health required it—judging from those facts I have no doubt he was in a very bad state of health.
Tuesday, December 22nd, 1868.
JOHN DEBENHAM . I am clerk to Mr. Marshall, solicitor, of Godalming, clerk of the peace for the county of Surrey—I have been with him since 1827—I knew Joseph Kimber, of the Jolly Farmers, and Sophia Kimber, his wife—I have seen Joseph Kimber write, sign deeds, and so on—I produce a number of documents, signed by him—I have his writing on parchment, and some on paper—here are deeds of lease and release, and several accounts on paper, which he signed in my presence—I don't mean to say that all I have here were witnessed by me, but some of them were; I know his handwriting, and they are in his handwriting—the deeds on parchment are dated 19th and 20th December, 1838; there are two signatures to the release and one to the lease for a year—those are the only signatures on parchment that I have—I am not the attesting witness to those deeds—this account is dated 19th May, 1852; that I saw Kimber sign—I also produce an account dated 26th February, 1851, which I saw him sign; also a memorandum of the same date, which I saw him sign when a small advance was made to him—I have none of Sophia Kimber's writing—I attended at the Probate Court in consequence of a communication which Mr. Marshall had from Mr. Pritchard—I saw Mr. Pritchard there—I took these deeds and papers there, I showed them to Mr. Pritchard—I saw Mr. Chabot there, and he looked at the papers—I was not called as a witness—to the best of my belief the signature of Joseph Kimber to these two documents (marked K I and K 2) are in the handwriting of Joseph Kimber, of the Jolly Farmers; I have no doubt of it.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Will your experience of handwriting enable you to say whether a person always signs his name the same? A. I don't think he does—I do not always myself sign exactly the same; a great deal of difference arises from the character of the ink and the nature of the pen—I mostly write with steel pens now, I formerly wrote with quills—when a quill pen is a little worn it does not write the same character as when it is quite new—I am not an expert.
JOSEPH KIMBER . I am now living at Penge—I am the son of Joseph and Sophia Kimber, who formerly kept the Jolly Farmers, at Farnham—they Are both dead—my father died at Croydon, in 1854, and my mother in 1856, at Godalming—I remember Henry Trimmer living with them—I remember his death—I know the prisoner; I can't tell exactly when I first saw him, but I think it was in September, 1867—I was in the infirmary, at Southampton—after I left the infirmary I went to Netley—it was at my house at Netley that I saw the prisoner—that was after I had left the infirmary; I could not say exactly how long afterwards, but I should think about three weeks, it might have been, or a month; I could not say exactly about that—I had never seen him before—he came alone—he asked me if my name was Joseph Kimber—I told him yes—he asked if I knew Henry Trimmer—I told him yes; at least, I think he asked me if I recollected him, and I said, "Yes"—he asked me to tell him what I knew about him, and I told him as far as I could recollect; it was not much—I told him I recollected him well, I recollected his dying there—I don't recollect exactly what it was I did tell him—he then asked me if I had any writing of my
mother's and father's—I told him I had—he asked me if I would look and find some, and I did so while he waited, and gave it to him—I could not find any belonging to my mother; I found some of my father's, and gave it him—I think he mentioned that he wanted it to compare the signature, or something; I would not be sure—he did not stop long—I told him I could not find any of my mother's, but I would look again, and if I found any, I would send it to him—he took away the papers that I gave him—he asked my permission to do so—I don't think anything was said about any papers of Trimmer's—some time after ho left, I received a letter from him; I have it at home now—I had no orders to bring it—I don't know the date of it, I think it was in November—in consequence of that letter I came up to London, to the Ludgate Hill Station—Mr. Spong met me there—I had, in the meantime, obtained from my sister, Mrs. Slade, some more writing of my father's, and some of my mother's, and I brought those up with me—Mr. Spong took me to the office of Mr. Pritchard, the solicitor, in Knightrider Street—I there made a statement, which was taken down—I took the papers back with me that I had brought up; they were not asked for—I had not shown them to the prisoner—I brought them up with me, but they were not asked for, and I did not produce them—I did not see the prisoner again till the trial at the Probate Court; oh yes, I did, I saw him, I think, about three weeks before the trial, at my house, at Netley—he came down to see me there, alone—he asked me if I had any more papers—I said I did not know—he said, "Well, we will have a look and see if we can find any"—I did not say anything then about the papers I had brought up to London—I think I had sent them to him in a letter before that—I produced a writing desk belonging to my father, and put it on the table—I had looked over the papers in that desk before—I had not then found any papers relating to Henry Trimmer—I unlocked the desk, and we began to examine the papers between us—we both sat down at the table, and began to examine the papers—we got through some of them, at all events, and I can't say how the paper came into Mr. Spong's hands, whether I handed it to him or not, however, he read this document, a bill of exchange, or a note of hand—this is it (produced)—it is dated November, 1835—it was in Mr. spong's hand when I first saw it—he read it aloud, and said, "This is a very important document, this will help us a great deal"—he asked me for pen, ink, and paper, and took a copy of it, of both sides—he then said, "Well, we will have another look, we might find something else"—however, we did not find anything else—he asked me if I would allow him to take it away with him—I said I had no objection, and he took it and left—we were sitting at the table, nearly side by side—we each took papers out of the desk.
JURY. Q. Did you leave the room at all during the examination of the desk? A. Oh no.
MR. POLAND. Q. When did you see the prisoner again? A. On the morning of the trial at the Probate Court, at Mr. Pritchard's office—we only passed a "Good morning" each, I think, that was all—I don't think anything was said about the will—he had mentioned to me, I don't know whether it was then, that I was to have something under the will—he said, "I never told you before that you reaped any benefit under the will; there is 10l. each for you, your brother, and sister"—I was examined as a witness, at the Probate Court, on behalf of the plaintiffs—at the time of the trial, I think I had given up nearly all the handwriting that I had of my father's and mother's—there might be some more papers; I
had given up all I could find—at the trial, I think, none of those papers were produced in evidence, except this bill—I am the eldest son—my mother had charge of my father's papers after his death—after my mother's death they were moved to Hedley; I was away at the time—I had had the desk in my custody from somewhere about the year 1860 or 1861—(Looking at a paper marked K 3) the signature to this is the writing of my father—I should say the body of it, "Received of Mrs. Way," looks more like my mother's—to the best of my belief, it is my mother's—the writing in pencil is not—(Looking at a paper marked C) some of this is in the handwriting of my father, the signature—I could not say whose writing the body is; I do not know—I could not say how long I had known Henry Trimmer before his death—I think he was confined to his bed a short time before he died; I could not say for how long, I don't recollect—he might not have been confined to his bed a week; I don't remember.
The bill was put in, and read. It was dated London, November 25th, 1835, drawn by Henry Trimmer, upon Mr. Way and W. King, for 22l. 10s., at two months, and contained the following endorsements: "Pay Mr. and Mrs. Woods. Henry Trimmer:" "1844, May 27. Beckoned interest, and agreed to pay 12l. 17s. Henry Trimmer. G. W "1847, January. Received, all the money that was due, by cash, from Mr. Kimber. George Woods." "I paid this from mine Curtis' money, to save poor Trimmer from the Woods and Chalcraft lot, who are so X that he makes a double will, and gives his own relations old Neale's last will and lots of land. S. Kimber."
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. How old were you when Henry Trimmer died? A. About nineteen—I was a coachmaker by trade; I work at carpentering now—my brother Alfred is a bricklayer—I remember Trimmer being at my father's when he died—I was not aware what relation he was, then, but I have since heard he was my father's cousin—I knew a man of the name of Avenall; he used frequently to come to the Jolly Farmers—I have seen Avenall write a great many times—he wrote more than one hand—he had formerly been in a lawyer's office—I dare say he might have seen Henry Trimmer about December, 1846—I cannot say whether he did or not—he was in the habit of coming to the Jolly Farmers about that time—he did not particularly spend his evenings there; he was there in the day-time as well—he was a man about Farnham—I can't say what he was doing about that time; I think he was at home, at his father's—I know he was in the habit of making wills for people—(Looking at the will) I can't say whether the body of this will is Avenall's writing; he could write so, I think—I could not say whether it is like his writing, it is so long ago since I have seen any of it—I don't know whether he was acquainted with Trimmer or not, I don't recollect—I think I told Mr. Spong that I believed it was Jack Avenall's handwriting—I think that must have been at Mr. Pritchard's office—that was the first time I saw the will; it was shown to me—I don't know whether Mr. Pritchard was present—I think it was there that I told Mr. Spong I believed it was Jack Avenall's handwriting; I won't be certain whether it was there or not—(Looking at paper No. 2, which was as follows: "1867, 20th Jan. I wish my exetors to give into persetion of my brother John my watch, after I am gone, and to pay Mr. and Mrs. Kimber for my keep. Witness my hand, Henry Trimmer. Joseph Kimber.") I have said I believe the signature to this to be my father's handwriting; that is my belief—I was accustomed to see him write, often—the signature is my father's—I believe this signature to the will (Looking at it) to be my father's—I do not recollect Henry Trimmer's handwriting.
Q. In the course of conversation with your father, at any time, do you ever recollect his saying anything to you about having witnessed a will of Henry Trimmer? A. No, or saying anything about a will of Trimmer's—I have some slight recollection, I think, of hearing my mother speak of it; that must have been at the time he was ill—I cannot recollect what the conversation was—my mother's signature purports to be to this will—it is my belief that it is my mother's signature—I don't think anything was mentioned about a will, in the first place, when Mr. Spong called on me at Netley—the desk belonged to my father, my mother had access to it, of course—it was nearly full of papers—I did not make so careful a search the first time as I did the second—I merely looked over the papers in the first place—there were several tied up in bundles, small rolls; I just gave a cursory examination of them, that was all—it was a square writing desk, with two flaps, with receptacles for papers—I took the bill out of the largest compartment, I think, the lower one—there was no drawer underneath—it must have been the upper one, the part that opens towards you—we were sitting nearly side by side—I believe I did not say at the Probate Court that I thought it was I that found the paper—I recollect being crossexamined by Dr. Deane—I think he asked me who found it, and I said, "Mr. Spong"—I don't recollect saying, "I think it was me"—I might have said so, but I think not—I do not recollect Mr. Serjeant Ballantine asking me how I came to find it—I recollect saying, "We were searching, both of us"—I was asked if anybody had access to the desk except myself since my father's death, and I said, "I believe not," my sister had access to it afterwards, at least, she could have gone to it, I was away at the time—I see what purported to be my mother's signature on the back of this bill of exchange—I believe it is hers—I see the words "Mine Curtis' money"—my mother was entitled to some money under Curtis' will—I think that is my mother's writing, as well as the signature—the word looks more like, "Mine" than anything else—my mother's maiden name was Curtis, her Christian name was Sophia—she had money through the will of her father.
MR. POLAND. Q. You have the bill before you, do I understand you to express any opinion as to the word "Farnham?" A. Well, that is very much like my father's—paper No. 2 is also my father's writing, to the best of my belief.
Q. Just look at the other documents that are there, and see if you can find any other signature like the signature to the will and paper No. 2? A. (Looking through them) Well, there is a difference in the "b," the "b" is looped—they seem to me to be in the same handwriting—I don't see much difference—they are nearly alike—the "b" is not looped in that document—I don't see one with the "b" looped, except in the will and No. 2—I am a journeyman coachmaker—I see the signature, "Sophia Kimber," to No. 3—(No. 3 was as follows: "1847, Feb. Mr. James, one of mine exetors, to have and keep all my own papers and books. Henry Trimmer. Witness Sophia Kimber. The mark of X Rachel Young.") I do not know whether that is my mother's writing, it looks too good for hers—the signature to the will does not look too good—I don't consider the signature on the will is so good as this—I still think the signature to the will is in my mother's handwriting, but not to No. 3, it seems rather too good—the "S. Kimber" on the back of the bill appears to me to be in the same handwriting as the "Sophia Kimber" to the will, with the exception of the "b;" there is a loop in the "b" in the will, there is
none here—the man Avenall, who I have been asked about, is dead—I suppose he has been dead eight or nine years—I knew a person named Rachel Young, she is dead—I could not swear whether Avenall knew Trimmer or not—Avenall was no trade, he had been in a lawyer's office—I never saw him make a will—he told me he had—I know a manwhose will he told me he made in Farnham—I think I mentioned about that to Mr. Spong, that there was a man named Avenall who had made a will for a person—I don't know whether that person is alive, he was an oldish man then—I think he is alive, I won't be certain—I have left Farnham some time.
MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Was Rachel Young a servant in your family? A. She was not a servant, she used to come to the house as charwoman, washerwoman, and nurse—she would have the opportunity of making her mark to a paper if required.
MR. POLAND. Q. Have you any memory as to what your mother said about a will? A. I can't say the words, but I have some slight recollection—it was at the time Trimmer was living there—I could not say how long before he died—I don't recollect what the exact words were; in fact, I don't recollect it, I think it was something about his talking about making his will, or something to that effect—I remember that—I cannot remember how long Trimmer was confined to his bed before he died—I recollect that observation—I heard nothing more of Trimmer till Mr. Spong came to me—that was more than twenty years afterwards.
COURT, Q. Do you know how long Trimmer lived with your father and mother, before his death? A. No I do not—I never heard of a will, for twenty years after his death—I never expressed to anyone my surprise of there being no will; I never spoke to anybody about my mother's observation, I had no opportunity—my father and mother survived Henry Trimmer; it was never the subject of conversation after his death; they did not mention it to me, or I to them—I went to the Crimea in 1855, and came back in July, 1856, when peace was concluded.
ALFRED KIMBER . I am a bricklayer, living at Penge—I was residing at my father's, at the Jolly Farmers, when Henry Trimmer died there—he had a watch at the time of his death, which he always carried—after his death his brother John had it—I saw Mr. Spong at Penge, I can't tell the date, it was some time last summer—I had no conversation with him on that occasion, no more than he asked me if my name was Kimber, and I said "Yes"—I afterwards received this letter from him, dated 28th October, and a day or two afterwards I went to the Ludgate Hill station—it was on 31st October, I met him there at the time appointed, and went from there to Mr. Pritchard's office—I was there shown some papers, and I made a statement which was taken down—I stated that Henry Trimmer's brother John had the watch, and I thought my mother had given it to him—I was examined at the Probate Court.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Did you see the Daltons before you saw Mr. Spong? A. Yes, they came to me to know if my name was Kimber, and to ask me if I knew Henry Trimmer—I told them that I knew him, and that he died at my father's house—I know my father's and mother's handwriting—I believe the signatures to this will to be my father and mother's—I think the "Farnham" is my father's, too—the signature "Joseph Kimber" to these documents (Nos. 2 and 3,) look very much like my father's—the signature "S. Kimber," on the back of this bill, I think
is my mother's—I knew Avenall; he was in the habit of coming to the Jolly Farmers—I always understood he was a sort of lawyer's clerk—I don't know whether he was in the habit of making wills for people—I don't know whether he knew Henry Trimmer—I believe Joseph Biggs and Elizabeth Caesar, were servants at the Jolly Farmers at that time.
MR. POLAND. Q. Do you know what has become of Mrs. Caesar. A. No, the last I heard of her, she was living at Peckham, not in a lunatic asylum—I am a bricklayer by trade; I don't do much writing—(Looking at the other signatures) it looks all very much alike, there is a little difference in some of the letters—they do vary a little as regards the writing, but the writing is much the same—I think every man in practice might vary in respect of that—I should think myself they are all his writing, I should say they are.
MARY SLADE . I am the daughter of Joseph and Sophia Kimber—the two last witnesses are my brothers—last year I was living at Netley—while I was there the prisoner came to me; I should think it was about August or September, last year—I could not say exactly if my brother was in the hospital or not at that time; I cannot remember—I think he saw my brother on the first visit—it was about August or September—he asked me if I had any writing of my mother's and father's—I told him I would look and see if I had any; I could not then, as I was busy—he asked me if I knew Henry Trimmer—I said "Yes, I just remember him, and that was all, at the Jolly Farmers"—he did not tell me what he wanted the writing for; he only asked me if I had any writing of my mother's and father's—nothing more took place then, he went away—I gent him to my brother Joseph's house, he was then living at Netley—I saw the prisoner twice, I can't remember how long after it was that I saw him the second time, I should think it was not long after, at Netley—I told him then that I had given to my brother the writing I had of my mother's; and he went away to my brother's—the writing I gave to my brother Joseph was a leaf, that I tore out of a book, with our three ages on—I have never seen it since.
MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Have you said that you gave that very identical paper to Wood's solicitor's clerk? A. No. (This paper was included in the notice to produce; it was not produced.)
Cross-examined. Q. You don't seem to have a very strong remembrance whether it was in August or September that Mr. Spong came to you? A. No; I really cannot remember now, or whether it was in October—it was in the autumn of the year—I have nothing to fix my memory as to whether it was one month or the other—it may have been the latter end of September, or the beginning of October.
MR. POLAND. Q. Your brother was in the hospital? A. Yes; I think for about a month or six weeks—I should think it was about three weeks after he came out of the hospital—that was the first time I saw Mr. Spong.
ROBERT EDMUND MELLISH . I am a solicitor, practising at Godalming—I am solicitor to the trustees under old Richard Trimmer's settlement of 3rd August, 1836—I produce that settlement—I have produced these papers, K 1
and K 2, in the Probate Court, in April last, on behalf of the defendant—I found them with the trust papers, in the trust-box—they had remained in my possession up to that time as part of the trust documents—Mrs. Harriot (Neale's daughter), the tenant for life, died in 1863—she had been married twice, once to the Rev. Frederick Ford, and afterwards to Mr. Harriot—she died without issue—(The certificate of burial which was put in, was dated 11th July, 1863)—she had lived at Hewshott Hill, near Liphook.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Mr. Chalcraft was one of the trustees, I believe? A. Yes; he entered into a contract to purchase the interest of these persons in the property for 5000l. or 6000l., that is, the interest to which they were entitled under this settlement—I could not put a construction on this deed; it would be a very difficult question to answer, what the value of the interest of each person would be, for this reason, that there are cross limitations—the value of the whole would, I think, be about 14, 000l., subject to a debt of about 2000l. due to Mrs. Neale under this deed—that would leave about 12, 000l.—about 4000l. would be the share each to Henry Trimmer, John Trimmer, and Mrs. White—supposing the will to Woods to be a good one, Henry Trimmer's interest would go to the Woods; if not, it would go to the three nieces, Mrs. Dalton, Mrs. Christmas, and Mrs. Trussler, that is, Martha, Mary, and Thyrza; and there is a fourth, a son, abroad, who has not been heard of for some years; his share has to be provided for.
MR. POLAND. Q. Would anybody take any interest except those four? A. No—Mr. Chalcraft entered into a contract to purchase, but afterwards abandoned it—they were represented by their solicitor, Mr. Bullock—the contract was abandoned by Mr. Chalcraft at their request—I see there is a fifth share there is a James White and a Henry White, all the children of Susannah White.
WILLIAM WHITELEY . I am clerk to Messrs. Hollis & Mason, solicitors, of Farnham—I knew a person named John Avenall—I heard that he was a lawyer's clerk, I did not know him as such—he died in 1860—I was acquainted with his handwriting—I have seen this parchment will—I saw it in the Probate Court, and also before the Magistrate—in my judgment it is not in the handwriting of John Avenall—I knew his writing very well.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Did he write several hands, do you know? A. I am not aware that he did—he was not employed in my office—I gave him odd work to do, copying—I was not in the Probate Court when witnesses were examined as to his handwriting—I was not in Court when Mrs. Avenall was examined—I saw her there in the Court afterwards, but not giving her evidence—she is the wife of Avenall's brother—I have seen the Lord's Prayer written by Avenall, in a very small hand, on about the size of a florin; it was written very close and small—it was not quite of the same character as the writing in this will, it was not so upright I think as this—engrossing clerks very often write a different hand from the ordinary writing, and preserve the same character throughout; that is the merit of an engrossing clerk—I don't know that Avenall was sometimes employed as an engrossing clerk—I never gave him any engrossing to do—there is a specimen of his writing in a book I have here—he made some indexes of books for me—I certainly will not take upon myself to say that this will is not his handwriting, I cannot do that.
MR. POLAND. Q. To the best of your judgment and belief, is it in his
handwriting? A. To the best of my judgment it is not—it seems to be formally copied out on the parchment to be executed—I cannot see any similarity between this and the Lord's Prayer that he wrote.
WILLIAM SPEKEMAN . I am parish clerk of Hedley—I produce the register of marriages for the year 1827—(MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON objected to the reception of this evidence in the absence of proof of any identity of the parties. THE COMMON SERJEANT considered the evidence could not be excluded, but would take a note of the objection)—On 14th February, 1837 there is an entry of the marriage of Joseph Kimber, of the parish of Godalming, Surrey, widower, and Sophia Curtis, of this parish, spinster, by banns, with consent, by John Parsons, curate—it purports to be signed by Joseph Kimber and Sophia Curtis, in the presence of Harriet Roe and Richard Curtis—on 4th February, 1823, there is also an entry of a marriage, and the signature of Sophia Curtis as a witness to it.
JOSEPH KIMBER (re-examined). I am the eldest son—I was forty years old last May—I was born in May, 1828—I understood that my father and mother were married at Hedley—I think my grandfather's name was Richard Curtis—I always understood that my father had been married before—I knew Richard Beales—he was married when I knew him—I believe he is dead—he was the father of the witness Beales—I believe my father and mother were acquainted with him.
GEORGE WOODS . I live at Queen Street, Portsea, and am a saddler—my father was a saddler before me—he died in February, 1855—I am the only son and personal representative—the will of Henry Trimmer in favour of my father, dated May, 1844, was proved by the advice of Mr. Parnell—I was the defendant in the suit in the Probate Court, tried in April last—I was examined as a witness—I was present during the trial—this indorsement of the bill of exchange,"1847, June. Received all the money that is due, by cash, from Mr. Kimber. George Woods," is not in my father's handwriting, it is nothing like it—I have here a number of bills signed by my father—occasionally my mother used to sign letters in my father's name—I have some of her writing here—the signature, "George Woods," on the back of the bill is not my mother's writing of my father's name—it is intended to imitate it—it is something like my mother's—these initials, "G. W.," are intended for my mother's, but they are not like it—there is a marked difference to me.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Have you got any of your mother's initials? A. Yes—I was about sixteen years old when this will was made—I knew Trimmer from my childhood; from three years of age—he was in the habit of coming to visit us—I can't say how many times a year—he never wanted anything of my father, or my father from him—Lynchmere is about twenty-three or twenty-four miles from Portsea—he would come over if there was anything particular going on—he used to like to see a ship launched, or something of that sort—he used to come down yearly, I think; I can't say exactly, it is a long time back—I remember my father getting that will made—it was a voluntary act of Trimmer's; my father never wanted it made—he had to persuade my father to allow him to make it; he never thought it any good—we used to hear Trimmer talking about his property and so forth—my father was ten years older than Trimmer, and he did not want him to make the will in his favour—my father took him to his own attorney, and paid him for making the will—I kept the will in my possession till 1864, because my father never
attached any value to it—he died in 1855—I did not propound the will till 1864—of course I shall look for what property there is in it.
MR. POLAND. Q. You are not prosecuting this matter? A. No—the will remained in Mr. Parnell's possession—I did not take the trouble to have it proved until after Mrs. Harriot had died—I acted entirely under Mr. Parnell's advice—my father was just the same to Henry Trimmer as he was to any friend that came to his house—until this inquiry took place, after Mrs. Harriot's death, and the will was proved, I had not the slightest idea of what the property was worth.
CHARLES PEARSON PRITCHARD (re-examined). I am a solicitor, at 13, South Square, Gray's Inn—I was formerly a member of the firm of Pritchard & Sons, of Doctors' Commons—I have been solicitor for all the White family, and for all the Trimmer family—I was also solicitor acting for the two executors, Mr. Christmas and Mr. Edmund James, in the suit in the Probate Court last April, in propounding the will of December 1846—I was first consulted by the White family, in December, 1863, after the death of the tenant for life, John Harriot—Dalton and his wife came to me then—he is a journeyman brewer, or a brewer's man—he can sign his name, but I don't think he could do much more than that—his wife can neither read nor write—none of the White family can read or write—Mr. Christmas and Mr. Trussler can both write a little, sign their names, and write a little, but very imperfectly—Dalton was recommended to me by a client—I did not know the prisoner Spong at all when Dalton came first—I first became acquainted with him at the end of January, 1867—Dalton and his wife called and asked me if I would see a gentleman and explain to him what was being done in the various proceedings in Chancery that I had instituted—I said "Yes," and in consequence of that, Mr. Spong called upon me—he gave me his address—he said he was an agent in this country for Tooth, the brewers, in Australia, or he mentioned their names as having business with them—I did not know then that Dalton had been in his employment; I know it now—I knew it from about the time Spong came to me—I explained to him the course I had taken in the Chancery proceedings which I had instituted and had the carriage of, and I also explained to him that I had been accustomed in all these proceedings to confer with Mr. Chalcraft, the defendant's brother, that now he was dead these parties had behaved in a way that I considered unjustifiable, and therefore I declined to communicate with them, and I told them they must find some gentleman with whom I could communicate, or else I should tell them nothing—after that I always communicated through Spong on the business of this property in the Chancery suits—I was dissatisfied with all the White family—they reside at the foot of Sir William Erle's property, at Liphook, and they went to him, and made representations to him about this will, which I was very much annoyed at, and after that I would not do anything for them—I heard of the will of 1844 being proved—when I filed my bill in 1844, I searched the Probate Court and I could find no proof of Henry Trimmer's will being proved, and I alleged that he had died intestate—I applied in April, 1866, for letters of administration to the legatees of Henry Trimmer, and then I found that the will of Henry Trimmer had been proved by Mr. Woods—I did not see the will itself, but I saw a copy of it—I saw it was attested by Mr. Parnell, and I saw him and Mr. Woods upon the subject—I afterwards saw the prisoner, but I saw the Whites first—I did not mention about that
will to the prisoner until the April twelvemonth after—I told him that Mr. Parnell meant to insist upon the will, and I had given him the necessary information, in Chancery, for him to come in and prove—the citation in the Probate Court bears date, 5th November, 1867—that was the commencement of the suit—I did not employ Spong to make inquiries in any way or in any manner; nor did I pay him—on 15th October I received this letter from the prisoner—it is the letter that informed me of the discovery of the will—a copy of the will was enclosed in it—I saw him on the 16th—he then brought the will itself—he told me he had found it in the book called the contra book—I received the contra book the next day—this is the letter I received from him (Read: "Bradbourn Vale, Sevenoaks, 14th October, 1867. Re White's family, Henry Trimmer's will. C. P. Pritchard, Esq. Dear Sir. The will of Henry Trimmer has this morning come to light in a very peculiar manner. As I was examining an old book, I found it pinned in the cover. After several small gifts, he bequeaths the residue to the female portion of the Whites'. I will see that you have a copy of the document to-morrow; and, if possible, I will run up and see you about I o'clock. Yours faithfully, John Spong.")—He came up the next day, and brought the will and the contra book—I received these documents, numbered 1, 2, 3, and 4, from the prisoner, on 5th December 1867—1, 2, and 3, were given in evidence at the Probate Court; number 4 was not—it was in my brief, and part of my case—this old book of Mr. Beales' was given in evidence—I received it on 10th December, from the prisoner—I received a copy of this bill of exchange on 11th April, 1868, and, on the 17th, the first day of the trial, I received the original from Mr. Spong, and that was given in evidence—I was conducting the suit for the plaintiff in the Probate Court—the plaintiffs case was finished, and witnesses were called for the defendant—after some of the witnesses for the defendant had been called, the counsel withdrew from the case—that was on the fourth day—the prisoner's wife was not examined, but she was in Court the third day, or the fourth day: I think it was the morning of the fourth day—Dalton was called—I told him to be in the way, but he purposely got out of the way, and we could not bring him into Court—his name was called out—he was sent for and found, but he would not come into Court—Mrs. Dalton was called and examined as a witness by our counsel—I saw Mr. Debenham, the solicitor—he was one of our witnesses—I sent for him and he came at my request on the second day—he brought the deeds and papers with him, containing Joseph Kimber's signature—Mr. Chabot attended as a witness for us—he was not called—he saw the deeds and papers brought up by Mr. Debenham—I requested him to do so; I did not look at them myself—I went down with Mr. Chabot to Hedley, to see the marriage register—that was on Tuesday, the 21st; after the second day's trial—with the exception of the will and the documents numbered 1, 2, and 3, no handwriting of Joseph and Sophia Kimber's was given in evidence in support of the plaintiff's case—the marriage register, which has been produced to-day, was not put in evidence by us: I did not think of it until after the trial had begun—I did not receive these papers from the prisoner—I received these from Mr. Curtis, of Hedley, the bill of exchange and this account—Mr. Curtis is the brother of Sophia Kimber—he is very ill indeed; bed-ridden—we could not think of bringing him up to the Probate Court—I did not speak to the prisoner about these—I gave them to Mr. Chabot—I received these on 15th January, 1868, and another document that was with it, the
indenture of apprenticeship of Joseph Kimber, they were with the book when I received it—I received the book from Mr. Spong, and the indenture—he said he had obtained that which contained handwriting both of Mr. and Mrs. Kimber.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. I understand that you were moving in this matter for the White and Trimmer family? A. Yes; throughout, I have had the conduct of everything—if I had had the slightest notion that there had been anything in this case except what was honest, I should have washed my hands of it and thrown it up—from first to last I never entertained that notion; I had no reason for it—there was nothing in the conduct of Spong to lead to it—I made inquiries, when the will was put into my hands, as to his character, and it was highly satisfactory; it was of the highest character—I fully believed that he had taken the case up for the White family, by reason of he and Dalton standing in the relation of master and servant—I suggested to Dalton and Spong that for the purpose of the trial, it was necessary to procure handwriting of the parties—that was on 27th October, 1867, when all the White family and Spong were present at Petersfield—I suggested that it was necessary to have as much of the handwriting of the parties as it was possible to get—I had no reason to doubt the will of '44; it was merely in proof of this one—my motive in getting the handwriting was to corroborate the will of '46—at the suggestion of counsel, I sent for Mrs. Spong, and she came up, I think, on the morning of the 4th day of the trial—I did not think of subpoenaing her in the first instance—in consequence of what occurred in the course of the trial, our counsel thought it right to abandon the case—that was not my suggestion; it came from counsel in consultation that morning—Joseph Kimber came up to me, and I took his statement—he did not tell me that Avenall had told him that he had often made person's wills—nobody suggested Avenall until my clerk found it out—a will of one Mary Trimmer cropped up in the course of this inquiry; I handed it up to the Judge—I got it from Mr. Spong—on the will of '44 there are the words, "Exd. by C. B. and W. M." in the left hand corner—finding the word "Exc.," it put me to inquire, and I went down to Farnham to see what trace I could find of it—that, in the ordinary mode in an office, is to show that it has been examined—I did not find any of the parties—I went to Hollis and Mason's, they took some trouble to find it out, but I did not get any evidence through them that I have to day that it was Avenall's handwriting—Mr. Spong suggested that I should advertise for the parties—my clerk was engaged for several weeks making inquiries—he has gone to Canada—he left some few months ago, or he would have been here—I did not make any inquiry with regard to the person who wrote the body of that will—my clerk did all that, and witnesses were examined to prove it—the will was shown to Mr. Restall and he at once said "That is my schoolfellow, John Avenall's handwriting."
MR. POLAND. Q. I believe you had the will and these documents photographed? A. Yes, so that they might be shown to persons—I found a good many persons corresponding with the initials W. M. and C. B., but none who could throw any light upon the matter—there were various attorneys' clerks answering to those initials—I had no doubt about the genuineness of this matter when I commenced the suit—no hesitation at all—I do not know at all why this document No. 4 was not put in evidence—it was part of my case—I re-wrote the brief, on November 14th, I
find, making it part of my case—I regarded that document as worth nothing till the bill turned up—it was not put in evidence—I attended the consulation on the morning of the 4th day, with Serjeant Ballantine, Dr. Spinks, and Dr. Pritchard—I was a party to the case being given up—we had then heard the defendant's case—Sir James Wilde then delivered a formal judgment—I did not see the box until the morning of the trial, the 17th April, 1868.
CHARLES CHABOT . I am a lithographer, of 25, Southampton Row, Russell Square—I have for many years made handwriting a study, and have constantly been consulted by the Treasury, the War Office, the Post Office, in various public cases—I was consulted by Mr. Pritchard, the attorney for the plaintiffs in the action in the Probate Court—before the trial I examined the documents 1, 2, 3, and 4, and also the will of December, 1846—I attended in the Probate Court for the purpose of being called as a witness on behalf of the plaintiffs, but I knew they would not call me, from my report—I had examined and reported—I was not called—before the trial I had this book, containing various entries in Trimmer's handwriting (The one produced by Mr. Beales)—I had it from Mr. Pritchard—I also saw some papers which purport to be written by Joseph and Sophia Kimber—there was considerable writing of Joseph Kimber's, but very little of Sophia's—I saw some parchment deeds at Westminster, produced by Mr. Debenham—I also saw this small book, and all the signatures in it—the book produced by Mr. Beales contains a great number of entries by Henry Trimmer—I can identify his handwriting a very great way through the book, down to October, 1842—they are trade entries—I do not believe the signature "Henry Trimmer' to document No. 2. is in Trimmer handwriting, that is my opinion—I can give my reasons—the body of No. 3, I do not believe is in Trimmer's writing—I say the same of No. 4, no part of it—the initials, "H. T.," I am quite certain are not his writing—they are particularly objectionable—I say that of the whole of No. 4—I have looked at the writing in the inside lining of the box, "In country book, my own will, H. T."—certain parts of that are certainly not in Trimmer's writing—I cannot speak of it all, but I have no belief that any of it is his—I have taken it all, and copied the shorthand as well—there are the words, "In country book, my own will, H. T."—I doubt the whole of that—I could not take a particular word—if I saw nothing but "My own," I could not tell, but judging from the words "Country book," and the initials "H. T.," and assuming it was all written by one person, I judge from those parts, that taking it as a whole, it is not in the handwriting of Trimmer—the signature of "Henry Trimmer" is a very easy signature to imitate; having got over the capital letters, the rest is very readily imitated, so as to pass, so as to deceive any ordinary person—any person acquainted with his writing would be deceived with it—in the lid of the box there is the word "key" or "keep," I think it is "key," and following that there is something which I cannot decipher; but the capital K in "key" is unlike the "K" that is made by Trimmer, but it corresponds with the notion of making the capital K as in the word "Kimber" in the signature of the attesting witness to the will, and in document No. 2—it is a capital "K"—in one essential particular it differs from Trimmer's "K," but it agrees with those two—so I say of the small "k" in the word "book," there is the same objection to be made—it is quite opposed to Trimmer's mode of making a "k," but it agrees with the "k" in two matters upon which I have not yet been
examined, that is, it agrees with the "k" as found in Kimber's writing at the top of the bill of exchange, and with Sophia Kimber's at the bottom—neither of them make the "k" as it is made there—I mean in substance this: that the "k" on the lid of the box, and the "k" in Kimber's writing at the back of the bill, and the "k" in Sophia Kimber's writing at the bottom of the bill, might all be the production of one person, but the "K" in Kimber is different from the mode in which Sophia Kimber makes it, and the "K" in "Joseph Kimber" is different from the way in which he makes it, and they are different from each other—I say they are not made by the persons assigned to them, because each of them make theirs differently—there is some short-hand on the box, just underneath the words "J. Neale's will," that is, as I read it—I believe it to be only a make-believe short-hand—I don't believe it is short-hand at all—I don't believe anyone can decipher it—they are short-hand characters, but they have no meaning: for instance, there are three crosses following each other; I cannot conceive what meaning that can have; again, there art three perpendicular strokes following each other; that cannot be consistent with any system of short-hand—I have studied short-hand writing myself—I cannot follow a speaker, but I write two different systems, and understand the principles of short-hand perfectly well—I have studied different systems—I have formed an opinion as to the signatures of Henry Trimmer to No. 2, No. 3, and to the will—I cannot speak with any degree of strength—I believe them not to be the same signature as the signature to the original will, but from so few signatures I cannot speak with any degree of strength—if I had nothing else to pass an opinion upon, I should decline giving an opinion, but being assisted by other matters I am just enabled to say that is my belief—I believe the signatures to the will of 1846 are not genuine signatures, but if I had those signatures given me independently of anything else I would not give an opinion about them—the signature of Joseph Kimber to the will and to document No. 2 are perfectly identical, and undoubtedly written by the same person—I have compared those with the deeds and papers produced by Mr. Debenham, and also with documents K 1, K 2, and K 3, C., and several signatures in the memorandum book, I dare say twenty or twenty-five genuine signatures altogether—all those produced as the genuine signature of Joseph Kimber appear to be identical; he writes his signature remarkably in one way; he seems to me only to know how to write it in one way, like indifferent writers; they commonly write it in one way—a good writer varies his writing a little more or less, according to the instrument he writes with—I have the strongest opinion that the Joseph Kimber on No. 2, and on the will, is not the handwriting of Joseph Kimber—I cannot express my opinion too strongly on that point; it was that signature which so shook my faith in the case for the plaintiffs in the Probate Court—I have also examined the signature, "Sophia Kimber," to No. 3, and to the parchment will, and also the "S. Kimber" on the lower part of the back of the bill—I believe that was all written by the same person, all written by one hand—I have seen some of the genuine writing of Mrs. Kimber, and I have also seen her writing in two places in the marriage register as Sophia Curtis—I believe the writing to No. 3, the attestation to the will, and the writing at the bottom of the will, are not the genuine handwriting of Sophia Kimber—but there, again, if I were examined only upon those points, unassisted by other matters, I should hesitate to express an opinion; still, it is my belief
that they are not; there are reasons upon which I found my belief—in my judgment the word "Curtis" on the back of the bill, and the signature "Sophia Curtis" in the register, are not written by the same person—I speak decidedly stronger on that point than the other matters; than the signatures; that is clear to my mind: I have no hesitation about that—the "Sophia Curtis" in the two places in the register are evidently written by the same person; they will bear the closest comparison—I was taken down to Hedley to see the register, while the trial was going on—I have looked at the back of this bill of exchange—the words, "George Woods" and the initials "G. W." are, undoubtedly, not in the genuine handwriting of George Woods—I have seen a number of documents produced by Mr. Woods' son, in his father's handwriting, quite sufficient to enable me to form an opinion; I speak confidently as to that—I have seen some of the writing of Mrs. Woods, her writing of her husband's name, "George Woods" and "G. W."—these words and initials on the back of this bill appear to be imitations of her writing.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Had you made a comparison of several of these documents before you went to the Probate Court? A. Yes, I had seen several signatures of Kimber's, and the book produced by Mr. Beales, with Trimmer's handwriting in it—I had a full opportunity of comparing everything, and had done so; there were no signatures of Trimmer's in the book—I want signatures in order to speak of signatures, because persons often write those differently to what they do other things—apart from the capital letters, I could get a comparison between the small characters and the writing in the book, but that did not satisfy me—you may probably have heard other experts besides me examined—I have been opposed to other experts, very rarely; they have differed from me—you might get an expert to differ from me now; I can't help that—it might be very easy to get one, or a dozen experts to differ from me now—expert evidence is not more uncertain than matter of law: lawyers differ from each other in opinion, you need not wonder at experts differing.
Q. Have you not come to the opinion that there is not the slightest trace of hesitation, or break, in the handwriting betraying, the marks of forgery? A. I have come to that opinion: there is nothing of the kind—I am speaking of these signatures; taking into consideration that at the time I was instructed, as I had no doubt was the fact, that they came from a man who was very ill; I say, taking that into consideration, there is nothing that is inconsistent with such a position—in the documents numbered 1, 2, 3, and 4, there is not the slightest trace of hesitation, or break, or other traces in the handwriting betraying the marks of forgery; particularly when you take into consideration that they are the production of a man who was so ill and infirm, and more and more infirm as the documents go on: when I was instructed in that way, of course there was removed from me one symptom of forgery—I can't say a matter is a forgery because it is trembling, when I am told the man is in a trembling state.
COURT. Q. You mean that from the information, given to you with reference to the condition of the man, you expected to find traces which, apart from that information might have created a suspicion? A. Precisely so.
MR. SERJEANT ATKINSON. Q. Was Kimber ill; was that reported to you at the time you made the comparison? A. No, and I do not see any marks of trembling in Kimber's signature, neither patching or painting, or
other common marks of forgery; nevertheless, I am perfectly satisfied they are forgeries—patching and painting are what I look for in forgeries, but it is not always that I find them; it is only once in a dozen times that you will find a matter of patching; it is commonly supposed that all forgeries arc patched: it is not so—I say I look for it and I find it once in a dozen instances of clear forgeries.
Q. Do not all these documents, when examined by themselves without making a comparison with other documents, appear to be freely and naturally written and above suspicion? A. Yes; if you show them me separately and independently I will say so—I have told you already it is a matter for comparison; I should not like to speak strongly unless I was backed by other evidence—taking them separately, I should say I cannot give an opinion, and would not, and would not assist anybody in them.
MR. GIFFARD. Q. Do you recognise the language of your report? A. I do, that report was made before the trial in the Court of Probate, or during the progress of it—when I wrote that report you must recollect I had my ears continually impregnated with the truth of all the story—of course I had, to a certain extent, to use my eyes and depend upon my eyes, and I never give way to my eye, whatever my ears might be exposed to, and the result of my report was, that I never gave evidence—I was not called, and I was perfectly sure I should not be called.
HARRIET BUCKLE . I am a nurse at the infirmary at Southampton, that is about three miles from Netley—I was nurse there when Joseph Kimber was there—he left the hospital from the 12th to the 14th of August, 1867.
Several witnesses deposed to the prisoner's good character. GUILTY.— Judgment respited.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. RIBTON and LEWIS conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH, with MR. BESLEY, the Defence.
GEORGE COOK . I was an able seaman on board the ship Mofussilite—the prisoner was the captain's son, and was the second mate—a young man named Charles James Dryhurst was a midshipman on board—on 23rd June, this year, the vessel was off Calcutta, and about 4.30 that morning, Dryhurst came up on deck, and was in the act of putting on his coat, when I heard the prisoner speak to him, but he made no answer at all—the prisoner then struck him—the first blow I saw was on the head—I could not see what part of the head, but I know it was not low down—his head was cut, and the blood was running, but he continued to stand—there was thin some scuffling on the hencoops, and there were several blows—while dawn I heard Dryhurst sing out, "Don't sir! don't sir! don't sir!" three times, and then he let out a loud piercing cry; he was partly on the hencoop and partly against it—I was at the wheel, and did not see what was being done to him while he was crying out, I merely saw him from where I
was standing—he got several blows from the prisoner while he was down, or in a reclining position, but I cannot state on what part of the body—the prisoner left him about five minutes afterwards, and went towards the binnacle to do something to it, and Dryhurst came to me—I then saw that he was bleeding from a cut on the front part of his head, above the temple—there were two more wounds at the back of his head, which were bleeding very slightly, they were not running—we had left Bombay about the latter end of May, or 1st June—Dryhurst's health was then apparently very good, he never complained to me; and he always performed his duty—after 23rd June his health began to decline every day, and he would stop suddenly, and say that he could not see, there was total darkness before him—he was not in a condition to do any work afterwards, he kept his bed until we arrived at Calcutta about 6th July—he then went into the hospital—I afterwards saw him dead in the dead house, he was carried there from the hospital—on the Sunday before the ship left, both me and the sail maker went to try to see the hospital doctor, but failed to do so, though we waited three hours—that was about a week after seeing the body—I also made a communication to a Magistrate in Calcutta on the Monday the ship was about to leave, the day before she was leaving—on the very day the deceased died I wrote a letter to his parents, and on my arrival in town I was met by his father and brother.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. When did you first join the ship? A. I joined her in Bombay, in December—she went from Bombay to Annesley Bay—she returned to Bombay before she went to Calcutta—I was at Bombay some weeks before our arrival at Calcutta—we left Bombay on the 5th or 6th of June—it is only about three weeks' voyage to Calcutta—we were lying at anchor off Calcutta about a week or ten days before the deceased was taken to the hospital—I do not remember the date of Dryhurst's death, but he had then been about six days in the hospital—the vessel left Calcutta about 28th July—she was a troop ship, of 1008 tons—her crew consisted of about thirty in all, and there were between 200 and 250 troops on board, besides soldiers' wives and children—the troops were conveyed from Bombay—there was illness on board, as usual in troop ships—the crew were bad for a day or two—there was a regimental doctor on board—there were as many as twelve deaths on board in the short voyage of three weeks, from Bombay to Calcutta, but only one man and one woman, all the rest were children—Dryhurst was not laid up with fever at Bombay that I am aware of—he was not, after I joined, occasionally unwell and under the doctor, to my knowledge; I always saw him going about his work, he might have been sick, but he never stated it to me—he was not ill, to my recollection, on the voyage from Bombay to Calcutta—he did not complain of fever before these assaults were inflicted upon him—he may have had toothache, but nothing more—he might have a pain in the bowels—he was not off duty, to my knowledge, in consequence of illness before we left Bombay, but I was not in his watch, and had not much to do with him—I do not know that he was two days laid up, and excused from duty two or three days before the date I fix for this assault—I never heard of it before to-day—I did not state before the Magistrate that this occurred at 6 a.m.—I stated the bells, I stated my relief time—the mistake was made in one bell—it was either at the half hour or the forty-five minutes—I am not certain, because they are not punctual in striking the time—(The witness's deposition being read, stated: "I was wrong in stating on my oath that it was 6 o'clock, it was
4.30")—I told the Magistrate that it was 4.30, but they must have made a mistake in the bell—I made an information which was taken down in writing, and which I swore to before the prisoner was arrested—I stated that it was 4.30, or a few minutes after—there was light enough for me to see—I was relieved at 6 o'clock—Mr. Symes, the chief officer under the captain, came up just after this was over, and wanted to know what the row was about—I have not seen him here to-day, but I did yesterday—the prisoner and I were always on good terms—he made a row with me on the passage and in the docks, only twice—I did challenge him to fight, and told him I was no pick-pocket, and would have none of his Yankee phrases—I do not know when that was, it was before this matter—I had no ill feeling, only just at the time—I was at the wheel when this happened—I cannot tell you how many men were on duty on deck at the time—about nine men would be on duty in the watch between 5 and 6 o'clock—I did not call out from the wheel.
Q. You were at the wheel, and eight other men would be on duty at the time, and you saw one man inflicting such injuries upon the other that the other was shrieking out with pain and agony, did you not raise the slightest alarm? A. No—I was paralyzed, and the ship was all aback at the time, she was in the wind—the men were not shifting the sails.
Q. Were you so paralyzed at seeing this act of brutality committed, that you did not cry out? A. Yes; if I had troubled myself about it I should probably have got shot—there were not only private soldiers, but officers in command on board the vessel, and a doctor—people were sleeping under the place where the scuffling was going on, only separated by the deck—I was about forty or fifty feet off, I am not certain, because I did not measure it—it did not strike me that, as a mere matter of humanity, I could go and make a statement to one of Her Majesty's officers when I next saw one of them on deck—I did not complain to the captain, the prisoner's father; I waited to see the Magistrate—I did not complain to the chief officer—when the vessel anchored off Calcutta I went on liberty—I did not go on shore almost every day from 28th July, only once or twice a week, and on Sundays generally—the rest of the crew had the same liberty—I went to see this young man lying ill in the hospital, and I attended his funeral with another of the ship's crew, and a midshipman—we all subscribed, except the prisoner, to a monument to Dryhurst—the prisoner did not put his name down—I merely state that he did not give it on paper—the captain instructed me to take a list of those who subscribed—I did not collect the money, I collected the names, and how much each one gave—it made eighty rupees altogether—I will not undertake to say that the prisoner did not subscribe five rupees, but he did not put it on my paper—I got the signatures of the officers—I got the captain, and the mate, and Mr. Jeffery, and the steward—I gave the paper first to the able seamen, then to the petty officers, and then to the officers—we had no doctor on board when we were sailing, except the regimental doctor—there was no doctor to the ship, that I am aware of—I believe the doctor attending the troops gave Dryhurst some sticking plaster—we left the doctor attending the troops in Calcutta—I do not know that Dryhurst was under the treatment of the doctor three or four days before the 23rd June, for bilious fever—there was, of course, a different doctor in the hospital—the doctor in Calcutta resides there—I endeavoured to see him before we sailed—Dryhurst had then been dead about fourteen days—I saw the Magistrate on the Monday, and we sailed on the Tuesday—the vessel is taken down the Hoogley by a steam tug—she was not detained
from going down the river for six hours while I was ashore—the captain asked me if I had seen the Magistrate—I said, "Yes"—two hours afterwards the prisoner called me up, and asked me what satisfaction I had got—I said, "None"—he said, "God d——your heart, I will give you plenty going home"—I never said a word of this before the Magistrate at Stratford—I was never asked for it—Dryhurst was confined to his bed after 23rd June, but he was brought up to walk about and to do his own needfuls—he was bad in his bowels, and when the captain called him he would have to answer the captain's summons—I wrote a document home on the very evening of the man's death—I would not say that it was 12th July, but I wrote it the very day he was buried, after we came from the funeral, which was the day of his death, and gave it to the bumboatman to post—he delayed it six or eight weeks, but I did not know that till I came home—this model (produced) is a pretty fair representation of the poop of the ship—I was here at the wheel, on the lower platform, on the grating, the hen coops are here and here, both on the side—the vessel was in full sail, one spanker was set—I have been at sea about nine years—I know that at each of the British ports there are Magistrates to whom seamen may make complaints of ill usage—I know also that the ship's articles, on arrival at a British port, are always deposited at the shipping office, which is a place to which seamen have a right to resort to make any complaint—the shipping master at those ports is the person under whom the engaging and discharging of men takes place.
MR. RIBTON. Q. The day before this occurred, was the deceased on duty? A. Yes; he appeared quite well—I asked the captain's permission to go to the Magistrate; he knew what I was going for.
GEORGE VERNON CORNISH . I am a son of the Rev. Mr. Cornish, rector of Bakewell, Derbyshire—I was a midshipman on board the Mofussilite—I messed with Dryhurst, and was very well acquainted with him—I recollect his being taken ill about 23rd June—up to that time his health had been very good, but after that he seemed very ill, and almost kept to his bed—about six hours after he was taken ill I saw two wounds on his head, but I believe there were three—about two days before I saw the wounds he was apparently missing from the ship, and I heard the prisoner say, "I wish to Christ he was overboard"—he was in the water-closet when he was missed—I saw the wounds about 9.30 in the morning—he was then in the house where we lived and messed, having his wounds dressed—one of the soldiers was washing them—I saw blood.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. What day of the week was it? A. I cannot tell—nobody has told me that it was the 23rd—I have known, it all along—Dryhurst was missing about a quarter of an hour before he was found in the water-closet—he was not ill—the vessel was not far from the Hooghley then, but she was not in the river—I have been on board the vessel three years—the prisoner has been an officer fourteen months—his father has been the chief officer for the last two years only—Dryhurst had no fever at all—on the day before I saw his head cut, a child died, and was buried at sea—I do not remember that on that very day Dryhurst was confined to his hammock, or that the regimental doctor was attending him for bilious fever—he got some arrowroot from the soldiers wives after the 23rd—I did not go ashore while he was in the hospital—I went to his funeral—when the prisoner said he wished to Christ he was overboard he was on the port side of the poop—nobody else was on the poop with me at that time except the man at the wheel, but there were men on the deck.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you mess with the deceased? A. Yes, and slept in the same cabin, from the time we left Bombay—he was in good health the whole time he was on the ship, till the 22nd—he had two wounds on the back of his head, about three-quarters of an inch apart, and a scratch besides—the blood did not flow down, because they had already began to wash it.
JAMES MOFFETT . I am an able seaman on board the Mofussilite. I knew Dryhurst, he was in good health up to a certain time—I saw two cuts on his head, about 5 o'clock in the morning; he was then on the poop and I on the quarter deck—I saw a little blood—I said something to him and he made an answer—when the vessel arrived at Calcutta, he went to the hospital—before I saw the wounds and after we left Bombay, I heard the prisoner say that Dryhurst had better not come home in his ship—from the time I saw his head in that state he was very poorly, till we arrived at Calcutta.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. You never heard him complain of an ache or a pain? A. No, the wounds were one here and another here, and one on his forehead, which looked a nasty wound, it was a mark of the four knuckles—it looked a nasty cut, but not as if it was done with a knife—I have been complained of on board for being absent without leave—I was occasionally ill with cholera, in June—when I arrived off Calcutta I had leave and went ashore occasionally—I did not go to the hospital while Dryhurst was there, or go to see his funeral—I only went ashore at night, several times—after the regimental doctor went ashore with the troops, a doctor used to come from the shore every morning and used to attend the people and give them physic.
EDWARD JOSEPH MILTY . I was a sailmaker on board the Mofussilite—about 11, a.m., I recollect seeing a wound or wounds on Dryhurst's head—his head had been washed then, and the blood and water were in a basin—before that I heard the prisoner say that he had a little account to settle with Dryhurst when he had got the decks quiet—there were three wounds, one was just towards the back of the car, and one forwards and one backwards—he called me into the house to show them to me—I do not remember his being ill, but before we came to Annesley Bay, he was bad with tooth-ache, or tic doloreux.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. The vessel was not very healthy, was she? A. She was not unhealthy—one or two of the men were laid up between Bombay and Calcutta—there was illness among the troops; we buried a great many of the children, and one or two of the troops—I think we buried about fourteen altogether—I was ashore twice at Calcutta—a doctor used to come on board after the regimental surgeon left—the only cargo on board to be discharged at Calcutta, was the Government stores—landsmen had not to come on board to assist in taking the things ashore—I think all the luggage was discharged by the soldiers—people came on board to bring provisions, or take goods ashore, and we loaded some cargo to bring away—some shipping clerks from the office came on board, but the crew was landed by the natives.
WILLIAM HENRY BOTT . I was a midshipman on board the Mofussilite—I saw some wounds on Dryhurst's head some days after they had been plastered up—there were two wounds here, and one here—I saw him changing the plasters—on the day before he was struck, I heard the prisoner say that he had an account to settle with him as soon as the decks
were cleared—he was laid up from that time, and complained of pain in his head, but, up to the time he received the wounds, he was generally in good health—I slept in the same room with him—he may have been laid up for one day, but for some days before he was in good health.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. Did you know him to be ill? A. He was laid up during the voyage, but never for long; he may have been for a day—he was not suffering from fever—he was laid up on the day he was struck—I do not think he was ill and the doctor attending him on the Saturday before that—I went ashore every Sunday at Calcutta—I cannot say that anybody was present when the prisoner made use of that language to Dryhurst—the vessel is now in the Victoria Docks—I do not think she was detained at Calcutta while Cook was on shore; he was ashore, but I believe it was the day before—I have been complained of on board the vessel for disorderly conduct—Mr. Symes, the chief officer, may have made complaints of my conduct; he was always making complaints of somebody—we sailed on 28th July—I am not aware that on the 27th, the steam tugs were waiting to take the vessel down the river—I do not remember Cook being complained of when he came back that he was two hours over his time.
MR. RIBTON. Q. How long have you been a midshipman? A. Three years next January—nine of the seamen left the ship at Calcutta, and many at other ports—she touched at St. Helena, and three men left there—if Mr. Symes made a complaint of me, I do not know what it was; he was always growling at me—I was charged with refusing my duty once—I am still serving my apprenticeship to the same company, and I am waiting for a vessel now.
DONALD M'LEOD . I was carpenter on board the Mofussilite—I saw two wounds on Dryhurst's head very clearly, and there was another which was covered with hair—I knew him very well—he was in good health up to the time I saw the wounds, but he never did anything after that; he was bad ever after.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. How many wounds were there at the back of his head? A. I only saw one, the other was on his temple, and the third on the top of his head—the skin was knocked off and it was swollen a good deal—I do not recollect what day of the week I saw the wounds—I was very sick at the time and had plenty of work to do—I think it was about the 22nd or 23rd—I have not been told what day of the month it was—I very often keep a bit of a journal, and I put the day of the month, but not the day of the week—the wound on the temple was a cut, the hair was sticking on it—the wound at the back of the head was kept open and could be plainly seen—I may have said that he had three wounds at the back of his head, but if I did I made a mistake. (The witness's depositions being read stated: "I saw one wound on the side of his head bleeding, and three cuts at the back of his head.")—That is a mistake, I meant three cuts altogether.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Were there three cuts in all? A. That was all I saw—the one on the back oft he head was a serious one—the one on the top I could not see as the hair clotted over it.
WILLIAM BOWE . I am the son of the Rev. Mr. Bowen, and am a midhipman on board the Mofussilite—I remember Dryhurst having some wounds on his head—up to that time his health was very good, but he fretted away after that—I saw the wounds on his head at 8 o'clock on
the morning they were done—his head had been washed then, and it was plastered at the back and front—I arrived in England last Thursday.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. When do you mean? A. Yesterday week—I did not go to the solicitor's office—Dryhurst's mother found me out—I saw Cook last Tuesday, and he told me what had been going on—I talked the matter over with him—I saw three wounds on the back of Dryhurst's head, pretty close to each other—one was on the temple, on the right side—I did not see one lower down—I could not have helped seeing it if there had been one—I did not go ashore at Calcutta—landspeople came on board occasionally, before the ship sailed.
JAMES TULLOCH WATTS . I am a seaman—I was on board the Mofussilite, and knew the deceased—about 22nd or 23rd June, I saw two wounds on his head, about 8.30 or 9 o'clock—he was then in the fore part of the vessel—he had had very good health up to that time, but after that he was laid up all the time.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. Of course, you are sure there were wounds? A. Yes; the one on the temple was the wont, in my opinion—there was also a bit of a scratch here (on the cheek-bone)—a slight wound, not a swelling or a heavy cut blow—I saw one wound at the back of his head—I did not have time to look any more, I was called away—I saw him every day, and all I saw was one wound here and one here—he walked very little, and some days I never saw him on deck—I went ashore at Calcutta.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you see any blood? A. Yes—he had a thick, curly head of hair—I had a conversation with him about his head.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. Was that before you went to Annesley Bay? A. No; after we came back—I only saw them once.
MR. RIBTON. Q. After you left Bombay, and before you arrived at Calcutta? A. Yes—I do not recollect how long before.
RICHARD NEWTON (Thames Policeman 37). I took the prisoner, on 23rd November, on board the ship—I was in private clothes—I told him I was a police officer, and should charge him with feloniously assaulting and causing the death of James Edward Dryhurst—I cautioned him, and he said that he had nothing to say at present.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JOHN SYMES . I was first mate of the Mofussilite—I have been first mate about six years, but not on board the same ship all the time, or for the same owners—I first served under the prisoner's father, two years ago, on board this vessel—the prisoner joined in Bombay, in November—the deceased went out with us from Liverpool—I should not say that his general health was very good—when he got out to tropical climes, he was off duty at times—the vessel went to Bombay, and returned to Bombay some time this year—I kept the ordinary log, as chief officer—this is my log (produced)—on 5th June, we left with troops, and I made entries here every day—I do not know whether there was anything the matter with the deceased on 20th June—I did not always put in the log book when they were sick—this (produced) is the Captain's book—this entry was written either on June 20th or the day after—I saw the Captain write it, and I signed it at the time; it is, "Sat, June 20th, Chas. Dryhurst sick and unfit for
duty, and under care of the doctor"—Mr. Anderson was the doctor; he was in charge of the troops—I cannot say that he attended the young man that day, but I know that he was ill that day, and not on duty—I have entries of twenty-four hours under the head of Tuesday—that day commenced the noon previous, it would be Monday by civil time, Monday at 12 o'clock would be Tuesday in the log book—this is an entry from noon on Monday to noon on Tuesday—I was on deck from midnight to 4 o'clock in the morning—I left Cook steering, he had relieved the wheel—we had light air but no high wind—it was very dark; a dull, hazy morning—it would become light in the tropics at that time of year at about 4.30—there generally were hencoops at the side of the poop deck, about here, and also on the opposite side of the ship; they are three or four feet from the ventilating shaft, not more; they are not always in one position—I cannot say whether the spanker was set, if the wind was light it may have been hauled up—the bulwarks came up to my shoulders—I should hardly think a man standing at the wheel, with the sail set, could see the hencoops, but he might see these hencoops here—he could not see them distinctly from the wheel at 4 o'clock—there is very little twilight at that time of year, it is almost dark, from dark to daylight—the sun mostly rises at 6 o'clock in the tropics, there is very little difference on different days of the year—I came on deck again at 8 o'clock in the morning, having left the deck at 4.10 or 4.15, I was not on deck at all in the interval—I have not got a memorandum of my watch, and of the time of my going below, but I never come out of my cabin during those hours, unless I am called—if there was anything to be done in reference to the navigation of the ship I should enter it in the log—nothing occurred that morning to call me up—I heard no cry of, "Don't, sir, don't, sir!" after I had gone below: that might have occurred without my hearing it, because most likely I should have been asleep—I did not go on deck in consequence of any cry, or go up to Cook and inquire what the row was—my attention was not called to any signs of a scuffle on the deck at any time—I do not know anything of the washing the young man's head—this entry of mine in the official log on 6th July, that Charles Dyhurst was sent to the hospital in Calcutta, is correct—before 20th July, when I find an entry of Dr. Anderson attending upon him, no complaint was made to me with reference to an assault, nor did I hear anything from the doctor about it—I do not remember seeing Dryhurst on the quarter deck between those dates, but I saw him in other ports of the ship once or twice a day—he was an apprentice, and was allowed to go on the quarter deck and on the poop—I saw no wounds on any part of his head—I did not go and see him in the hospital, or attend his funeral—I saw Cook from time to time—he and the rest of the crew were at liberty to go ashore—this entry of 28th July is true, that George Cook asked leave to go ashore to see a Magistrate, and when asked the reason, he said that we should find out that soon enough——he returned two hours afterwards—I did not hear any threat used by the prisoner to Cook when he returned—I have never heard the prisoner threaten Dryhurst—I have never heard anything against the prisoner—he must have a certificate before he can be second mate.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Did you never hear anybody say that he was ill-tempered and severe? A. No; no complaint has been made to me of his conduct to the seamen and midshipmen, nor have I heard of any to other people—this is my writing in the ship's log—I enter the occurrences
that take place as to the navigation of the ship—I make the entries every evening—if I had gone down at 4, and had been called up, I should not have entered it here; but still, if there had been anything to be done, such as shortening sail, it would have been entered there—if I had been called up by a cry, and had been told that there had been a scuffle on deck, it would not be entered here, but in the official log, but this refreshes my memory, because I see that we did nothing—I do not know that we are compelled to enter the deaths and burials here—I mean to pledge my oath that I did not come up on deck on 23rd June after going down, speaking from the book and from my memory—I cannot tell you, without the book, when I was on watch on 22nd June, but I could by referring back from the morning of the 23rd, because the watch is four hours in length—I have no recollection of being on deck on the morning of the 24th or on the 22nd—the deceased never was in good health; he never was able to attend to duty—this entry, "Charles Dryhurst, sick and unfit for duty," was made either the same day or the day after—I will swear that the entries here were never put off for more than two days while we were going from Bombay to Calcutta—I do not know whether that is the only entry of the young man's illness in the official log—I believe the Act of Parliament says, "Every case of injury happening to any of the crew shall be put in the official log book"—I cannot say what was the matter with Dryhurst on 6th July, when he was sent to the hospital; he was sick and off duty—I do not know whether I saw him, and I do not know anybody else who did—I do not know what was the matter with him on 20th June, when this entry was made—I do not know whether he was on duty on the 21st; he was on the 22nd and 23rd, but on the 25th, I believe, he was off duty—it is the captain's duty, under the Act, and not mine, to enter every case of illness—my duty is to sign his entries—it is entered here, "Charles Dryhurst, sick and off duty, 26th June"—I cannot say whether he was off duty on 24th June—I saw him on the 26th; he appeared in a low state—he had no bandages on his head—I may have asked him what was the matter, and very likely he told me—I do not know what he told me—on the 27th the entry is "Sick and off duty," and the 28th and 29th the same—he continues on the sick list till 6th July, when it is, "Sick and sent to the hospital"—we are bound to put the cause of illness in the official log, which, I believe is sent to the Board of Trade—his illness, up to 6th July, not being entered must have been an omission of the captain's—if he had met with any injury it would have been my duty to enter the injury too—if he had been wounded I should have heard of it—I never heard that he had been washed or that blood had been seen in his cabin, or that his wounds had been strapped—I do not know who took him away from the vessel on 6th July—I was not on deck at the time—it is not my duty to see what is the matter with midshipmen; they are supposed to come aft and report themselves, but sometimes they do not—I think you will find plenty of entries in the log of other persons being ill besides the deceased.
MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. I see you have an entry here of burying a child in the night, you did not think it necessary to make an entry of what the child died of? A. No, and on June 15th a child died, and no entry is made of the cause of death—the doctor gives a certificate of any deaths occurring in the hospital—the captain entered this, "12th July, Charles Dryhurst, apprentice, died at the General Hospital, of fever, and was buried the same afternoon"—the information comes from the hospital—I believe a
certificate was given, and the captain sent it home—I do not know that of my own knowledge—this book is signed by me, and so is this entry of his death—when a seaman dies ashore, a certificate is given by the medical man to the captain of the vessel, which is, I believe, sent home to the friends of the deceased, if it is known who they are—between Bombay and the time the deceased was conveyed to the hospital, he made no complaint of illtreatment at the hands of the prisoner, nor did anybody else—I never heard of any wounds on the deceased's head or any part of his body.
COURT. Q. You knew the deceased very well, what kind of a head had he? A. A thick dark head of hair—I think it was rather curly—he wore a small naval cap, with a peak, on deck, like this (produced)—when I saw him sick he was not in his berth, but lying about the deck with his cap on.
ALEXANDER JOHN JAFFERY . I was the third mate of the Mofussilite—I joined at Liverpool—when I became acquainted with Dryhurst, his general state was sickly—between Bombay and Calcutta he was occasionally sick—on 23rd June I was in all night—my berth was in the saloon, which is under the poop deck—I was not disturbed at all—I went on deck at 6 o'clock the following morning—I did not see Dryhurst till the evening of that day, when I passed him—I did not see any marks of any blows on his forehead, or any Appearance of a scratch, or wound, or swelling, near his eye, nor any marks on the back of his head—I saw him from that time till he went ashore on 6th July—I went and saw him in the hospital once, and had a conversation with him as to the cause of his death—he said it was typhoid fever—I heard nothing between him and the doctor before he was removed from the ship—he did not send me ashore for medicine—he never complained of wounds or ill-usage—the prisoner was kind but strict to persons on board the ship—I never heard him use any threats towards Dryhurst—I remember Cook insisting upon going ashore to a Magistrate—I did not hear the prisoner use any threats to him when he came back.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. Had you orders to stop the deceased's food? A. No—I never told Cook so—he went to the hospital on the 6th, with low fever—I do not know when he got it, but hewasillabout three weeks—it began from the 20th—I say that because I saw him—I remember the date—I know that there is an entry in the official log to say that it was the 20th, and that is the reason I say so.
MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. Is there any truth in your having to stop the deceased's food? A. None—he was not ill-treated in any shape or form—it is not usual when people are afflicted with fever to feed them on salt junk—arrowroot is more proper—I have been on board two years.
COURT. Q. You remember passing the deceased on the evening of the 23rd—what makes you able to fix that, you often passed him during those two yean? A. Yes—I remember him being sick on the 23rd—he was at the door of the house on deck, where he lived—it was between 6 and 7 o'clock, before sunset—he had got his cap on—I saw him without his cap in the hospital, on the 9th July—his head was uncovered in bed—I saw no marks on his head, near the temple—his hair was thick and dark, and curly.
JAMES DINGLE . I was steward on board the Mofussilite—I joined her in Liverpool, in July, 1867—the deceased was always complaining of fever and biliousness—about eight days before we arrived at Calcutta, he was under the care of Dr. Anderson, and between that time and the time we entered the Hooghley, I saw him from time to time—there were no marks
of plasters on his head, or of wounds—he wore a cap sometimes—I saw Dr. Anderson treating him—I heard nothing said by the deceased as to the cause of his illness—he did not complain of ill-usage—he asked me to get some medicine for him; Cockle's antibilious pills—I saw him in the hospital when he was dead—he used to come to me and complain of fever and get medicine for it—the prisoner's general conduct towards persons under his control was strict and kind—he never threatened Dryhurst in my hearing.
Cross-examined. by MR. RIBTON. Q. Have you heard that he has threatened him? A. No, not from anybody—I knew he was ill on the 20th, because I gave him medicine—I speak from my own clear conscience as to the date—I do not know anything about the log-book—I do not know that there is an entry in the log-book, saying that he was ill on the 20th—I swear that—I have not looked at the log-book, and I know nothing about what is in it—nobody has told me that there is such an entry in it—I always know what day of the month it is on board ship.
MR. BESLEY. Q. You have been asked about these threats, were you present when Cook swore to them at the Police Court? A. No—I have never heard of any threats by the prisoner towards Dryhurst.
CAPTAIN WILLIAM BROADFOOT . I have followed the sea all my life, and have been captain of a ship nearly twenty-two years—my age is forty-nine—I have sailed for the owners of the Mofussilite nearly twelve years—the prisoner is my son, his age is twenty-one—he has got a certificate as second mate—he has followed the sea six years, and upwards of two years under my eye—he went out as second mate in another ship for the same owners, and came to my ship as second mate at Bombay—from that time to the time of Dryhurst's going to the hospital, his conduct to Dryhurst was I believe good and kind—there was no difference or quarrel between them that I know of—I never heard him threaten anyone—the entry in the official log on 20th June, 1867, was made and signed by me, either that night or next morning—I am sure it was made within twenty-four hours—I saw Dr. Anderson attending Dryhurst—I believe it was for a fever—he went on duty after that—I saw him on deck up to the arrival of the ship—he came to see the doctor every morning—I have asked him if he was getting better or how he was, and he only said that he felt unable to work, and was feverish—I saw no signs of wounds upon him, or any swelling or scratch on his face—Dr. Anderson left us on the disembarcation of the troops at Calcutta—I saw Dryhurst in the hospital, not in the doctor's presence—he made no complaint, and there was no sign of any wound on him—there was a subscription for the funeral, and my son subscribed to a tablet—after the burial, there was a certificate of the cause of death—I saw a paper from the hospital; I sent it to the deceased's father—I reported the death at the Shipping Office, and made the usual inventory of his effects—I remember Cook asking permission to go ashore—I gave him leave—he exceeded his time by two hours—I asked him what he wanted to go for, and he said I should find out that soon enough, and if I did not give him permission he would go in spite of me—I saw him that night when I went on board—I was not present at any conversation between him and my son when he came back—I first knew of the charge of wounding against my son when he was taken out of the vessel in London—if I had known it in Calcutta, I could have had the matter investigated there before the authorities, and could have had the evidence of the doctor who attended Dryhurst to June 26th—I had
the doctor from the shore on the 27th—he would have an opportunity of seeing whether there were any wounds inflicted on him—there was no mention of wounds by anybody—these entries are correctly made—there is an entry in the official log—"Illness of Dryhurst"—the chances are that he might have been forty-eight hours at work after that, and I might have omitted to put down the day he was well again, so that it goes on as if he was ill all the time—I did not purposely keep any information out.
Cross-examined by MR. RIBTON. Q. On the 20th he was ill, and there is no other entry till he goes to the hospital; does that mean that he continued ill from the 20th to the 26th? A. Except one day, or perhaps thirty-six hours, when he was on duty on deck—a stranger looking at the log-book now, would gather that he was ill from the 20th to the 26th—it is true that he was at work—I made the entry on the 20th, or the morning of the 21st—I believe he was ill on the 21st—he made no complaint to me—I believe he wrote a letter complaining of being worked too hard in the ship—that was a complaint against the ship; against me—I found fault with him, perhaps, a week before we left Bombay, about making a complaint without first consulting me about it—I do not think I said to him that it was an underhanded thing to write to Captain Trutton, but I felt annoyed that he did not complain to me first—I do not know whether my son knew of his writing the letter—my son did not know all about the complaint—I might have mentioned it to him casually, but I cannot say that I did.
Q. It was a complaint against the ship, as much against the second mate as you; do you mean to say you did not tell your son? A. I mean that I do not recollect
Q. The first mate has got an entry in his own book of his being ill on the 26th and 27th, and you have no entry after the 20th? A. When there is a continuation of sickness, we only put the day they are taken bad, and the day they get better again—I heard, of Cook going to a Magistrate in Calcutta, he told me so himself—he said he would not go home for 100l. until he had seen a Magistrate, and if I did not allow him to go he would go in spite of me—I swear I did not know what he was going for—I did not threaten him about going before a Magistrate—I never said, that if he went to a Magistrate, it would be better for him not to come home with me—I never threatened him in the presence of Bowen, one of the apprentices—I never said anything about making the deceased's head sorer, to the best of my recollection—I never, to the best of my recollection, said to the deceased, in Bowen's or Cornish's presence, or in the presence of both, that if he went to the Magistrate I would make his head sorer—I will swear I did not call the deceased a blood-sucker, a low fellow, or an impostor, in Cornish's presence—I may have said that he was lazy, and that there was no getting him to turn out of his bed in the morning—I do not know that the young man kept a diary—I know that he was ill on the 22nd—I do not think he was at work on the 21st, but he was on the 22nd and I believe on the 23rd—he was not on the 24th, because he was sick—I know that perfectly well—I do not remember the deceased complaining, in the prisoner's presence, of the prisoner ordering him up aloft—I do not remember whether he made any complaint on the 22nd—I never threatened to kick him out of the cabin—I do not remember his being sent up to grease the mast, or, after greasing it, being sent up a second time.
MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. I suppose greasing the mast is a necessary act to be performed? A. Yes—during the whole time the lad was on board
the vessel, I have never been guilty of any act of unkindness towards him, and have never heard any complaints to the owners about it, except the letter that was written—I have taken him off work because I have seen that he was poorly—I have been twenty-five years master of a ship, and, during my whole life, I have never had any complaint made in respect to my conduct as captain towards man or boy.
COURT. Q. At 4.30 in the morning, in the tropics, on 23rd June, what would be the state of the light? A. It would be dark.
MR. LEWIS re-called
WILLIAM BOWEN . I remember hearing the captain say to Dryhurst that if he went to the Magistrate at Calcutta, he would have a sorer head to go home with—I do not recollect how that observation came to pass.
Cross-examined by MR. SERJEANT SLEIGH. Q. You came to London last Thursday, yesterday week? A. I arrived in Liverpool yesterday week—I heard this conversation between the captain and the deceased between 6 and 8 o'clock in the evening; I cannot say what day—we were lying at anchor in the river at the time—it was before we got to Calcutta; we were going up the river at the time—nobody was present when this observation was made except the troops; nobody was within hearing—I was standing here below the poop on the main deck, I will not say on which side, and they were on the poop, and I overheard it—I have seen Cook once since I came to London, that was last Friday—I am staying at Gloucester Street, Pimlico—Cook did not come for me; I met him in a street by St. Paul's last Tuesday, not Friday—I went nowhere with him; I just spoke to him in the street, and walked on—I met Cornish in the owner's office, who told me Mrs. Dryhurst wished to see me—I have also seen the sailmaker and the carpenter—I left the ship at St. Helena, as I was ill—I am out of my apprenticeship, and was not on the ship's articles.
MR. LEWIS. Q. After seeing Cornish did you go and see Mrs. Dryhurst? A. Yes—I said something to her.
MR. SLEIGH CAPTAIN BROADFOOT . Q. At any time, standing here or there, with the lad who has just been examined in sight on the deck, did you make use of such language as he has imputed to you about making him sorer? A. Never; nor about going to a Magistrate.
GUILTY .— Two Years' Imprisonment .
Before Mr. Baron Cleasby.
MR. LILLEY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. COOPER the Defence.
ANN GEORGINA GEAR . I am the wife of Thomas Gear, a bookbinder, of Thornhill Crescent, Barnsbury—the prisoner was in my service for four months, within two or three days—I did not notice that she looked in the family-way, until within the last month—on 12th October I got a cab, and took her to the Islington Workhouse, and while she was there I sent her two ready-made bed-gowns for her baby, some flannel, and some calico—I next saw her on 2nd November; she came to my house—she had not the child with her, she had left it at the house of a woman who was washing for me—she asked me to allow her to change her dress, and would I let her have some
money—I said "Yes," and I gave her 5s.—she said she was so cold in the cotton gown she had on—I asked what she was going to do with the baby—she said she was going to take it up to Oxford Street to nurse, to the cousin of the young man who was the father of it—I asked if she would come back that evening—she said no, she should not be able to return till next morning—she then left—I saw her again between 9 and 10 o'clock the next night—I asked her what she had done with the baby—she said she had taken the train from Shoreditch in the morning, and had taken it down sixteen miles to nurse—she continued in my house, acting as servant, until the 28th, when the police called.
Cross-examined. Q. While she lived with you, was site of a kind disposition? A. Yes, there could not be a better servant in every respect—I never saw the child.
CARLING BROWN . I am a nurse at Islington Workhouse—on 12th October, the prisoner was received there, being then pregnant—she had not been in above half an hour when she was confined—she remained in my ward a fortnight, and then she was shifted into another ward, and left the house at the end of three weeks—I think it was on the 2nd November—she took the child with her—the flannel that the child wore she made in my ward; it was rather thin, and she made it double—this (produced) is the same, and this diaper I can swear to as being one of ours—the child was registered in the house by the name of William.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you saw a good deal of the prisoner while she was in the workhouse? A. Yes—she seemed very kind-hearted, very fond of the child—she had a very good confinement—women continue weak for a long time after their confinement—it sometimes affects the mind as well as the body.
MR. LILLEY. Q. At the end of the three weeks had the prisoner recovered much of her usual strength? A. Oh yes—she had what was allowed her, and what was necessary—there are a great many there, and they get on very well.
MATILDA WALLIS . I am the wife of Frederick Wallis, 7, Museum Street, Oxford Street—William Byatt lodged at my house—he is no relation of mine—on the 2nd November I saw the prisoner—it was the day she came out of the workhouse—she came to our house and asked for William Byatt—she saw him—I did not hear anything particular that passed between them—I asked her what she was going to do with the baby—she said she thought she should put it out to nurse—I asked her where she was going, and she said she did not know exactly—next evening, between 5 and 6 o'clock, I saw her sitting in the shop—I asked her where the baby was—she said she had put it out—I said "Where"—she said "Out about sixteen miles in the country, to nurse"—I don't know what she had on when she left my house—I think she had a shawl—the baby had a shawl on.
Cross-examined. Q. Had yon seen her with the baby more than once? A. Only that once—I lent Byatt a half-crown to get a bed for her—she seemed fond of the baby—she gave it the breast the whole time she was in the shop—she did not seem to have much milk for it.
WILLIAM BYATT . I am a machinist, and lodge at 7, Museum Street, Oxford Street—I saw the prisoner there on 2nd November—she brought the child with her—Mrs. Wallis told me to go out and try to get a bed for her—I borrowed a half-crown of Mrs. Wallis, to pay for the bed for her
—I walked with her to the Caledonian Road, and went into a public-house and got a pint of ale—I told her to go to a coffee-shop opposite and try and get a bed—she did not get one—she came back to me again—she did not get a bed anywhere that night before I left her—I gave her the change out of the half-crown when I had had a pint of ale, to pay for the bed, and said that I could not stop out, because I had to go to work in the morning—when she came to me, she said "I have brought the child"—she said it was my child—I said it was not—she said she was going to take it out to nurse—I asked her to see whether her uncle would not take it—she said she had not been friendly with him lately—I saw her again, next night at my lodging, between 7 and 8 o'clock—Mrs. Wallis asked her what she had done with the child, and she said she had taken it about sixteen miles in the country, to nurse.
Cross-examined. Q. You had known her before she came up to London, had you not? A. Yes, at Bury St. Edmund's—she was in service there—I used to work along with my father, who was a shoemaker there—I courted her for a few weeks at Bury—she was ill and went home, and I shortly after came up to London—I suppose that was about three years ago—I did not correspond with her—I wrote her a letter—she afterwards came up to London and was servant at the place where I was lodging—she wrote to me to say she should like to have a place, I spoke of it to the landlady and she said she should come there till she could get a better one—she remained there about six months, she waited on me as the servant—I was a lodger in the house—I gave her 2s. 2d. on this night, the change out of the half-crown—I have never given her anything before, only when she was out of place, once, I paid her fare home—that was about five months ago.
JOHN WALLIS . I live at New Street, Stratford—on the morning of the 4th November, about 7 o'clock, I was at work on the Romford Road, opposite the "Three Pigeons"—I looked over the fence and saw something in the ditch which leads towards Stratford Green—it was about thirty yards from the high road—I got over to see what it was, and found it was a child—I saw the head and a portion of its feet—I got back again, and told the landlady of the "Three Pigeons," and a policeman was sent for—he came and took it away—I saw him pick it up—after he picked it up I saw part of the child's bedgown crammed down its throat—that was when he had got it in his arms—I was not standing beside him when he picked it up, I was by the roadside, and he was in the field—I saw some little spots of blood on the child's mouth, from its nose—it had a flannel on.
Cross-examined. Q. Are there other houses near this public-house? A. Yes, there are houses on both sides of the road—it is a public road, the Norwich and Yarmouth Road—hundreds of waggons and carts are passing constantly—it was at the further end of Stratford, just out of Stratford—it is a level road—I was sweeping the road when I first saw the child—I could not see it distinctly till I got over—I could see something, but I could not tell what—it was the flannel I saw from the road—it is right opposite the "Three Pigeons"—there are houses on both sides of the way, but not just there—the place where the child was used to be a ditch for the watercourse, but since the water has been laid on it is a dry ditch, with a grassy bottom, it slopes a little.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Is this piece of ground fenced in or open? A. It is
fenced in all round, but not built upon—the ditch leads from the high road—I could see along the ditch for fifty yards.
FREDERIK HOLMAN (Policeman K 510). I am stationed at West Ham—about 7.15 on the morning of the 4th November, in consequence of information, I went to the Romford Road, got over the fence, and found the body of a child lying in the ditch—it was covered with a piece of flannel—a flannel gown was wrapped over it—it had a bed-gown on besides, and it was in its throat, crammed into its mouth—it had a napkin on, and a small piece of flannel used as a belly-band—it was dead and quite cold when I took it up—I took it, precisely as I found it, in a basket to the surgeon, Dr. Macclestone, at Stratford.
GEORGE THOMAS WILIAM MACCLIESTNE . I am a physician, practising at stratford—on the 4th November Holman brought me the dead body of a child—it was dressed fully for bed, with bed-gown, flannel, and so forth—the clothes were like these produced—the policeman took away the articles of clothing when I undressed the child—I noticed that the bed-gown was forced in the child's mouth—in my judgment that could not have been so placed accidentally—I made a post mortem examination of the body on the 6th November—I stated before the Coroner that it was a week old: it was about two or three weeks old—it was a male child—I found the vessels of the brain congested and full of black blood, but otherwise healthy—the heart was empty, except the left side, where there was a small clot of blood—the lungs were congested, and the chest—on opening the abdomen I found the viscera all healthy—the liver was congested—there was an inordinate quantity of blood in it, of a dark appearance—I believe the child to have died of suffocation—it must have been dead for some hours—the body was fresh—there was a little mucus and blood oozing from the nostrils—there was blood on the bed-gown, but that came from the interior of the mouth; it was on the upper lip.
Cross-examined. Q. I presume you have seen a very great deal of children?—A. Yes; they are apt to take into their mouth anything that is placed near it, and on that account they should not be covered over the mouth—I had one case where a child sucked in a glove-like portion of its night-cap, and so suffocated itself.
MR. LILLEY. Q. Looking at the quantity of bed-gown that was in the mouth of this child, in your judgment, is it possible that it could have been sucked in?—A. I think not.
WILLIAM ODELL (Police Inspector Y). From information I received, on 28th November, about 4 o'clock, I went to Mr. Gear's, in Thornhill Crescent, Barnsbury—the prisoner answered the door—I asked her if her name was Minnie Edwards—she said "Yes"—while I was speaking to her, Mrs. Gear came up stairs—we went into the first floor room—I told the prisoner I was an inspector of police, and I was going to ask her a few questions, but she need not answer me unless she thought proper—I said, "You have been in Islington Workhouse; I understand you were confined there; I believe you left on 2nd November?"—she said, "Yes"—I said, "What have you done with the child?"—she said, "I took it to Stratford"—her mistress then interposed, and said either "Minnie" or "Mary," "You may as well tell the truth, it is sure to be found out."
MR. COOPER expressed a doubt whether then words did not amount to such an inducement to the prisoner to make a confession, as would prevent the reception of any subsequent statement although, in this particular case, he was not
anxious to exclude it.
MR. LILLEY referred to the ease of "Reg v. Jarvis and others," Sessions Paper, vol. lxvi., page 294, where a similar objection arose and was argued and reserved, and the statement held to be admissible. In this case the mistress who made use of the words was not the person making the charge, nor was she in any position of authority, it was a mere exhortation to tell the truth, and not anything that could be construed into a threat or promise so as to render the statement inadmissible. The case of "Reg v. Colley," Sessions Paper, vol. lxvii., page 207, was also referred to. MR. BARON CLEASBY considered that in that case there was a clear threat, which was very different to the present; the words here were uttered in the presence of a police officer, which might have some effect, the better course would be, as no substantial objection was raised by the prisoner's counsel, to receive the evidence, and reserve the point if necessary.
Witness. After the mistress had made that observation, the prisoner made a statement which I took down at the time—she said, "I was walking about all night, after I left the workhouse, with William Byatt till I o'clock, when he gave me 2s. to go to Stratford, and told me to go and wander about all night and day, and the child would die by the cold, 'and be sure you have it dead before you lay it down.' I took the train about 8 o'clock in the morning of Tuesday, and went to Stratford, and walked about till 4 o'clock, and laid the child down on a doorstep. I did not do anything to the child."—I then produced and undid the clothing, and the mistress identified the bed gown, in the prisoner's presence, as being one of the two that she sent with the flannel to her in the workhouse—upon that I took her into custody—I produce a copy of the register of the child's birth, on 12th October, 1868.
MRS. GEAR (re-examined.) This is one of the bed gowns I sent to the prisoner.
She was charged on another indictment with wilfully deserting the said child, upon which no evidence was offered .
MESSERS. POLAND and GRAIN conducted the Prosecution; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS appeared for Edward Turnbull; MR. METCALFE for Thomas Turnbull; and MR. HARRIS for Powell.
FREEN SMITH . I am a constable of the Victoria Docks—I was on duty there on the night between 11th and 12th November—and near I o'clock I heard a splashing in the water, as though someone was rowing a boat—I waited some little time, and saw a barge coming across—a man, who I cannot swear to, was on it—I called out and got an answer, and directly afterwards Powell came up and said, "Have you seen my barge, Ned?"—he said, "No, I have had trouble enough to find my own"—Powell asked me if I had seen a barge adrift—I said, "No," and asked him what sort of barge it was—he said, "A decked barge, with about 60 tons of rice in it, and that he would go up the south shore and look—I walked up the south shore with him very nearly a mile, and could not see it—at the end of my beat is the pontoon bridge, he stooped down there and said, "I think I see my barge behind those steamboats, how can I get to her?"—I said, "I do not know, the best thing is to ask the man you spoke to on the other barge if he has got a boat"
—he said, "I will do so, and if I cannot get a boat I will turn in, for I am very tired"—I then came up to the fireman and went with him, and saw no more of Powell—the conversation lasted three-quarters of an hour—about 2.55 I met Robert Christopher, another dock constable, I told him what I had seen—we went round to the backs of the warehouses, and came upon some bags of tobacco lying on the ground—we laid down near them, and Edward Turnbull and another man came up—Edward Turnbull took a big and turned it over down towards the bottom of the bank, which slopes towards the boundary fence—he then saw us lying on the ground, and sang out "Halloa Tom, is that you," three or four times—we made no reply—Edward Turnbull came towards us with something in his hand—we got up and I said to Christoper, loud enough for him to hear, "Look out, he has something in his hand!"—Christopher immediately sprang on him, threw him down, and took him in custody—they were about seven yards from the bag of tobacco—the other man ran away—we took Edward Turnbull to the station—I afterwards saw a hole under the fence—the bags of tobacco were distributed through the hole to the top of the embankment—some of them were close to the hole.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Would the captains and men of the different barges sleep on board their barges, and be allowed to pass in and out of the docks? A. Yes—Turnbull was taking the bags of tobacco further down the bank—he was in a stooping position—I cannot say whether it was a piece of iron he had in his hand—we were lying on our stomachs, on the ground—it was partially light—the watchman of one gate is here.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS.. Q. What do you mean by partially light? A. You could tell a man's features if he was close—there was not a single light on the south shore, where I was—it was very near I o'clock when I saw Powell—it was not a rainy night—I swear to Powell, by his face and his nose—I could not see the colour of his eyes or his complexion—I swear to his general outward appearance.
MR. POLAND. Q. Were you walking and talking with him for three quarters of mile? A. Yes, and I have not the slightest doubt of him—lightermen come in and out of the docks all night—there is a watchman at the entrance, and their business is known before they are let in, otherwise all the entrances are closed at a certain hour.
ROBRT CHRISTPHER (Dockyard Policeman.) I was on duty on the morning of 12th November, and about 2 o'clock Smith made a communication to me, and I found nineteen bags on the sloping bank, and four more outside t he fence—the earth was dug out under the fence so that a man could get under and the bags could be got under—they contained unmanufactured tobacco—the sacks were marked "Porcas"—I was lying down near the bags, and saw Edward Turnbull come from the waterside, up the embankment, which slopes to the water in the dock—he turned one of the bags over to roll it down the embankment, and as he was rising he called out, "Halloa Tom, is it you?"—I made no answer—Powell was with him—he advanced to me about two yards—I immediately jumped up, turned my bull's-eye on his face, and on Powell's face—they were in opposite directions—Edward Turnbull was two yards from me, and Powell five yards from him—Smith cautioned me to look out, for Powell had something in his hand—it was this crow-bar, or jemmy (produced)—when I saw that I upset him and took him in custody—Smith assisted me—Powell escaped by the waterside, the way he came—I took Edward Turnbull to the station in the
docks, and charged him with stealing some tobacco—I asked him his business there—he said that he had no business, and what defence he had to make, he would make at some other place—going to the Stratford Police Court, he said, "I suppose I shall be the poor victim"—I had not the other two men in custody then—I found in the dock the barge Iona, with the sculls unlocked, and the cabin open—she was temporarily moored to the handle of the timber crane, between No. 12 and No. 14 shed, which is not the place to moor a barge—that is about 400 yards from the G warehouse, opposite to it, across the dock; the width of the dock off—I took possession of the twenty-four bags of tobacco—I picked up the crow-bar at 8.30, at the place where I took Edward Turnbull—I examined the tobacco warehouse G, about 6.45 in the morning, and found two planks, which led to a hole under the warehouse, which stands on piles—the hole was bored through the floor and was large enough for a man to get in—it led to the main gangway of the warehouse, where the tobacco is kept—the hole was large enough for the sacks to be put through, and these (produced) are the pieces of wood which were bored out, and they were put back lightly over the hole—the twenty-four sacks of tabacco weigh 11 cwt. 5lbs., and the value is about 250l.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. How far was it from the G warehouse that you saw Edward Turnbull? A. On a rough calculation, about 500 yards—the tobacco had been moved 500 yards before I saw him—this instrument is commonly called a jemmy—I have seen such an instrument used for legitimate purposes—I do not know that it is used on board ship for opening packages or shifting them; that would be a larger instrument.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. Directly you turned your bull's eye on away went the man you say is Powel? A. No; he stopped till Turnbull was upset—by upset, I mean that I put him on his back—my bull's eye was turned on Turnbull for two minutes while I was looking at him, and I could see Powell at the same time—I do not squint—it was rather dark—there are no lamps in the dock, but the lamps from the road threw a reflection into the dock—I swear to Powell's features; I have known him for some years—I do not swear to his clothes—my nearest view of him was seven yards—I have had no conversation with Smith as to my identification of Powell
MR. POLAND Q. Have you known Powell some years? A. Yes, on and off, but not by name, only by sight—I have not the slightest doubt he is the man—I know Edward Turnbull as a lighterman—lightermen do not generally carry jemmies—I do not know any object which they would use one for.
GEORGE POUDE . (Dock Constable). On the morning of 12th November I was on duty at the side gate, and met Christopher and Smith with Edward Turnbull in their custody—I then went to the south bank, and found nineteen sacks of tobacco behind a pile of timber, and about thirty yards off I found a hole under the boundary fence, large enough to admit a man—I passed through the hole and found four more sacks outside the fence—I remained on the other side, watched for five minutes, and saw Thomas Turnbull come through the hole, from the docks, heels first, and face downwards—I turned my lamp on and full on his back; a desperate struggle took place—he cried out "Off, let me go!—he rolled over and over, and at last got on his feet—he struck me a violent blow on the shoulder, and caught me by my hair—I struck him on the nose with my lamp and he escaped, leaving this hat behind him—I am certain it was Thomas Turnbull who came through
the hole—I have known him for two years as a lighterman passing in and out of the Victoria Docks.
Cross-examined by MR. METCALFE. Q. Did you creep through the hole feet first? A. Yes; it led into garden ground, and inclined downwards very much—he had got quite through, and was with his face still on the ground when I threw myself upon him—I was still holding his clothes when he got on his legs—my hat was on the ground, but I held my lanthorn still—he had the best of it, having two hands free and I only one—the struggle lasted from three to five minutes—I did not follow him—I remained to watch the tobacco till assistance came.
WILLIAM ROCK . I am captain of the barge Plover, which belongs to Mr. Porcas, of Limehouse—on the evening of 9th November, I had thirty-eight bundles of sacks on board, tied up, twenty in each—on Wednesday, 11th November, I slept on board, and next morning a communication was made to me, and I missed two bundles, forty sacks—on the Thursday morning I taw twenty-eight of them with tobacco in them at the Police Station—this (produced) is one of them—my barge was safely moored at the corner of the D jetty on the night of the 11th—there are steps to go up there.
THOMAS STILLS . I am foreman to Messrs. Newcomb and Thompson, 9, Water Lane, Tower Street—the barge Iona belongs to them—I last saw her about 4 o'clock in the afternoon, moored at the corner of the D jetty, 300 or 400 feet from the tobacco shed—the head was fast, and the oars were locked—next morning, 12th November, I found the oars loose and the cabin open—she was near the Customs, which is on the same side of the dock, but at a jetty lower down—I found this saw (produced) in the barge, and gave it to Green, the head constable—it does not belong to me—nobody had authority to move the barge that night but me.
THOMAS GRIGGS . I am chief constable of the Victoria Docks—on the morning of 12th, prisoner was brought to the office, charged with stealing tobacco—he said, "I have not stolen it; I do not know anything about it"—I asked him who he was employed by—he said, "Mr. Wellock"—I said, "What is your business in the docks?"—he said, "I have no business"—I said, "Have you any barge in the dock?"—he said, "I have not"—I said, "What was your business on the bank on the south side where Christopher found you?"—he said, "I shall answer no further questions here"—I had cautioned him that what he said might be used against him—I went on the south shore, and found nineteen sacks on the embankment, and four on the outside—I saw a hole under the fence, and saw the Iona near the timber crane on the south side—I went on board, and found four pads, made of pieces of sacking, which had evidently been used to cover the feet—the oars had been disturbed, and the cabins unlocked—on the arrival of the officers, the G warehouse was unlocked—it had not been broken—I found a hole in the floor 14 inches by 22, large enough for a man to get through, and for the sacks to be put through—it had, apparently, been bored by a centre-bit, and the boards had been ripped up—I examined the floor, and found marks corresponding with this crowbar, which was brought to me by Christopher—I missed two hogsheads of tobacco from the warehouse—the cases had been broken open, and about half the contents taken away, and one case of German tobacco was completely emptied—it was unmanufactured tobacco—a portion of that in the sacks was German tobacco—I had the hogsheads weighed, and they were deficient 1110 lbs.—the bags weighed 1105 lbs.—on 26th November, Powell was brought to my office in custody
—I told him to be cautions how he answered any questions which might be made use of against him, and said, "You are charged, with others, in committing a robbery in the Victoria Docks?"—he said, "I have not been in the Victoria Docks for the last three weeks"—I said, "In whose employ are you?"—he said, "I am not in anyone's employ"—I said, "Where were you 11th November, or the morning of the 12th?"—he said, "I have no recollection of the date—I shall answer no further questions"—he was detained and charged with robbery—on the evening of the 27th, Thomas Turnbull was brought to my office—I cautioned him, and told him he was charged with being concerned, with others, in the tobacco robbery at the Victoria Docks—he said, "I have not been in the Victoria Docks for the last fortnight"—on a further question, he said—"I might have been in the Victoria Docks on the 11th, or the morning of the 12th, but I know nothing of the robbery—I am not in anyone's employ at present—I have been at work for Mr. Willcock, but left three or four days ago"—I have been in the Dock Company's service fourteen years—the lightermen frequently sleep on the barges, but they have no right to be ashore except at tide time—it is possible that a lighterman may come at tide time to get his barge out, and if he states his business he would be admitted—I was near the place where the hole was at 3.15 that afternoon, and there was no hole then.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Do you hold it to be part of your duty to ask prisoners questions? A. I consider it is—I took a memorandum at the time of what they said—I have not got it with me—I used it before the Magistrate—I told the Magistrate that I cautinded Turnbull.
Cross-examined by MR. HARRIS. Q. How long after the robbery did you see Powell?—A. A fortnight after.
ROBERT JOHN MAJOR . I was formerly inspector of the Thames police—on 16th November, between 10 and 11, a.m., I saw Thomas Turnbull in High Street, Wapping—I had known him for years—I noticed a wound on the bridge of his nose—I had heard of the robbery at the docks, but did not know who was engaged in it.
RICHARD KNIGHT (Thames Policeman 27). I was in Barking Road on the evening of 26th November, and saw Powell—I said "Alf"—he said "Halloa, Dick"—I said "I have been looking for you, I want to speak to you, were you in the Victoria Docks on the evening of the 11th or the morning of the 12th of this month?"—he said "No, I have not been in the Victoria Docks for these three weeks"—I said, "Will you go over the road with me?"—he said, "Yes, anywhere"—I went across the road with him, and saw Christopher, who said, "That is the man, I give him into custody for being concerned with others in breaking into a warehouse, in Victoria Docks, and stealing about 11cwt of tobacco—he said "Not me, I have not been in Victoria Docks these three weeks; look again, you know me well enough"—Christopher said, "You are the man"—I knew that Powell was employed by a master lighterman, and was on the look out for him—I had received a description of his person, and had known him by name for years—I took him to the Victoria Dock station, and from there to Barking Road, and then to West Ham—on the way he said, "I have been twice to Wapping, I have not been out of the way"—I said I have not seen you before to night—he told me he lived in Canning Terrace—I did not know that before—on the 27th November, I was with Christopher, Proude, and Major, and saw Thomas Turnbull in Bishopsgate Street—he sighted us and ran up a turning, I pursued him into a public-house, he showed a great
deal of resistance—Proude came up and said "That is the man, I give him in custody for breaking into a warehouse in Victoria Dock, and stealing a quantity of tobacco, assaulting me in the execution of my duty, and making his escape"—he said to me, "I do not know that man, I never saw him before"—he then turned to Proude and said, "Did you see me break into a warehouse"—I took him to the station—I knew where he lived, but did not go there—I saw him come out on the previous morning, and I think he saw me as he turned back.
RICHARD DEERING . I am foreman to Willcock and Son, master lightermen, of 8, Black Raven Court, Seething Lane—on the 11th November, Edward Turnbull was in their service; he left work about 6 o'clock in the evening—he had no business in the docks that night for our firm—it was his duty to meet me at Limehouse Church, close to Millwall Dock, at 8.45 or 9 o'clock in the morning—Powell was in my master's service, and was at work up to Thursday evening, when he was taken in custody—he left about 5 o'clock to get his tea; his other labours would commence about 10 o'clock, but in the meantime he was taken—Thomas Turnbull was in our service, and left on the Saturday previous to the 11th November—he had no business for us in the Victoria Dock on the night of the 11th or the morning of the 12th—his labour ceased for us on the 7th—I do not know whether he went into any other service.
Cross-examined by MR. WILLIAMS How long had Edward Turnbull been in your service. A. Between three and four years.
They were further charged with having been before convicted; Edward Turnbull, at this Court, in November, 1862; Thomas Turnbull, at Clerkenwell, in May, 1858, and Powell** at Clerkenwell, in June, 1862—to which they all PLEADED GUILTY.
EDWARD and THOMAS TURNBULL— Seven Years' Penal Servitude each .
POWELL— Ten Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
150. EDWARD COLLLNS (26), ROBINA ROSS (17), and SARAH ROSS (19) , Buglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William Arnold, and stealing therein three teeth, six knives, and other articles, his property, to which
COLLINS PLEADED GUILTY .**— Five Years' Penal Servitude .
MR. PATER conducted the Prosecution.
HANNAH ARNOLD . I am the wife of William Arnold, of 2, Minna Villas, Lewisham—on the night of 6th November the house was entered by the kitchen window—it was shut the night before—I missed spoons, knives,
forks, cups, a great coat, and other articles, worth about 10l.—I went to bed about 11.30, the house was then closed—I came down at 7 o'clock and found the window fastening had been turned, and the window open—there is no shutter—these spoons and forks (produced), are part of the property.
WILLIAM FISHER (Policeman R 29). In consequence of information, I went to 15, Albert Square, Shadwell, and made inquiries, in consequence of which I went to 29, Albert Street, Shadwell—on returning I met Robina Ross carrying something in her apron—I stopped her, and asked her what she had got—she began crying—I looked into her apron, and found the greater part of these articles produced, except these braces, which the man was wearing—I went up stairs at 15, Albert Square, to the back room, second floor, and found one dessert spoon, one fork, one teaspoon, and some small articles belonging to a lady's wardrobe, which have been identified by Mrs. Arnold—on 2nd December, I met Sarah Ross, in Black Boy Alley, and told her I should take her for receiving that property knowing it to be stolen—she said that if Jed brought anything there, it remained till he removed it.
MARGARET LONGELEE . I am the wife of John Longelee, of 15, Albert Square, Shadwell—Sarah Ross occupied the back room, second floor, up to the time of her apprehension—Collins was in the habit of visiting her—Robina Ross was with her sister part of the time, but her other sister turned her out of doors.
ROBINA and SARAH ROSS.— NOT GUILTY .
151. ROBINA ROSS was again indicted for burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of William S. Quintin, and stealing therein four caps, 3 spoons, and one pair of braces, his property, upon which no evidence was offered.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. DOUGLAS conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS EDWARD CARROLL . I am a seaman belonging to Her Majesty's ship Vivid—on Monday, 23rd November, I went to the Canterbury public-house, at Woolwich, with Hawkins—I called for sixpennyworth of gin, and gave a half-sovereign to the prisoner, who was the waiter—he brought me the gin; he had a pewter pot in the other hand then—he did not give me the change for the half-sovereign—he put the gin on the table, and went to serve some one with the beer—I saw him ten minutes after, but said nothing; to him—ten minutes after I asked him for some beer—when he brought it, I asked him for my change out of the half-sovereign—he said, "I did not have any half-sovereign of you"—I said he had, and if he did not give it me, I should give him in charge—he denied having the money, and I said if he only confessed that he had had the half-sovereign, I would spend it with him in the house—he still said he had not got it—we had a few words—I went on shore with 1l. in my possession, 10s. in silver, and a half-sovereign—that was all in one purse—when I gave him the half-sovereign, I had two florins, two shillings, and some coppers in it, rather more than 6s.—I had the half-sovereign as well; I gave that to him—I lent one of the witnesses a florin to spend on shore—I had been to two houses before that
—I spent 3s. in clothing—I am quite positive I gave the half-sovereign to the prisoner,
Prisoner. Q. Was anyone close to you? A. Yes; my friend—I did not give you in custody till Tuesday because I could not come on shore.
COURT. Q. You say you had exactly a pound when you came on shore? A. Yes—a half sovereign and ten shillings in silver—I had lent a florin to a friend, and spent 3s. in clothing—and when I gave the half-sovereign it left in my purse two florins, two shillings, and some coppers—the prisoner was serving the other men in the bar—there were about ten in the bar—I said, "Stop a minute I will look in my purse" that was to satisfy the prisoner—the half sovereign was not there—I put it in his hand when I gave it to him.
JAMES HAKINS . I am a seaman belonging to the "Vivid"—I was with Carroll on this night—I saw him give the prisoner a piece of money—what it was I can't say—he asked for a pot of ale after that—the waiter brought it, and then Carroll asked him for his change—the prisoner said, "What change?"—he said, "The change for the half-sovereign I gave you just now for the gin"—the prisoner said, "I received no half-sovereign, you gave me a sixpence"—they had some words together, and Carroll took out his purse, and said, "I will look in my purse, for I know I had a half-sovereign"—he then said, "It is no use to look here, for I know I gave it to you"—Carroll had lent me 2s. when we came on shore—I saw the half-sovereign in his purse then—we went to a public-house called the Mitre, and had some beer—Carroll spent some money there—I can't say what it was—we were in another public-house besides, and spent some money there—we came ashore about 6 o'clock, and went to the Canterbury about 7 o'clock—I did not see Carroll change the half-sovereign at any other house—I don't know whether he did or did not—I think he paid with silver each time.
COURT. Q. What did he pay with first? A. A 2s. piece, I think; I can't swear; I did not take any notice—he spent money at both places, and I can't say what it was.
FREDERICK JAMES LEWIS I am a seaman on Her Majesty's ship Boxer, at Woolwich—I went in the Canterbury on this night, when the two last witnesses were there—I heard Carroll order sixpennyworth of gin, and saw the waiter bring it—I saw him pay with some gold—I can't tell whether it was a sovereign or a half-sovereign—I was at the right side of him—I heard him order some beer afterwards—I left two or three minutes after that.
Prisoner. Q. Who was sitting at the side of the prosecutor? A. Hawkins, and there were two girls to the left of Hawkins—the prosecutor stood up when he paid the money.
MR. DOUGLS offered no evidence.— NOT GUILTY .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerry Esq.
MR. DALY conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BROMLEY the Defence.
JAMES FIRMAN (Thames Police Inspector). On Saturday evening, 12th December, about 8.30, I was on duty in the Police Galley, in the Thames, off Pickle Herring Stairs, and saw the two prisoners in a small tug-boat going up the river—Clark stepped out and made the tug-boat fast to a barge—I went alongside, and said to Peek, "What have you in the tug?"—he said, "Wheat!"—I said, "Where have you brought it from?"—he said, "From Mr. Matthews' place; we are going to load upon Monday"—I said, u Have you any notes for this wheat?"—he said, "No,"—I said to Clark, "Do you belong to this tug-boat?"—he said, "No; I have only come to help him up; I know nothing about it"—I said, "I shall detain you"—Peek said, "It is all right, you can see the governor"—I said, "Who do you work for?"—he said, "For Mr. Matthews, and have for three years"—I took the prisoners into custody—I found in the boat ten sacks of grain, bearing the mark of "J. F. Cohen."
JAMES MATTHEWS I am a granary keeper and lighterman, at Rotherhithe—I do lighterage for Messrs. Cohen—Peek was in my service—Clark did not work for me—he may have done a little job some months ago—I sent Peek to Bow Creek to work 202 quarters, four bushels of wheat from the Eastern Counties Railway—that would amount to 405 sacks—on Friday he took it, and on Friday night we sent a load down to East Ham, and he was to bring up the wheat to Messrs. Cohen's mill, and deliver it there—I sent him with a barge to fetch it—I did not authorize him to take out any of the sacks from the bulk—I know nothing of Clark being with him.
Cross-examined. Q. Where was he to deliver the sacks? A. At Messrs. Cohen's mill, at Rotherhithe—he was not to bring them to me—he has worked for me nearly three years—I never found any fault with him before—I believe he is a pretty good scholar—it is not left to his discretion to stow away the things in different parcels—I never knew him to have more than the right quantity and then take it back—it might have happened.
PATRICK SULLIVAN . I am a waterman's apprentice, at Rotherhithe—on Friday night, 11th December, I was sent by Mr. Matthews to Bow Creek, to lend Peek a hand with the barge—we came down the creek on the ebb tide and lay outside—Clark came alongside with a tug-boat—I turned in the cabin and had a sleep—Clark stopped with us—between 8 and 9 they turned out—Peek asked me to assist him, with a man, in turning these ten sacks of wheat over, and not knowing there was anything wrong, I did so—they were put into the tug-boat, and Clark went away with her—Peek and I went with the barge to Mr. Cohen's mill, and discharged her.
Cross-examined. Q. These ten sacks formed part of a lot of sacks, did not they?—A. Yes—I don't know how many there were—they had been brought from the Eastern Counties Railway—Peek did not say anything to me about why he was putting them into the tug boat.
JOHN CUSHING I work for Messrs. Cohen, of Winchester Street, Rotherhithe—on Saturday, 12th December, I was engaged with Peek in unloading the barge at the mill—395 sacks were unloaded, and that was all—they were put away in the mill, under lock and key.
ARTHUR HAINES . I am foreman at Messrs. Cohen's—I saw the barge partly unloaded on the Saturday afternoon—in consequence of information, I went to the police station on Sunday morning, and there saw ten sacks marked "J. and F. Cohen"—they were ours.
WILLIM POCKNELL . I am a lighterman, in Church Street, Bermondsey—the prisoner Clark hired my tug-boat on the 12th—he said it was for Peter—I supposed he meant Peak—I afterwards saw the boat in the custody of the police.
Prisoners "Statements before the Magistrate: Peek says—" I had no notion of stealing the wheat. I intended to take it back to Bow Creek, as I had got more than I ought to have had."Clark says—"I was hired by Peek to take this tug down, and he said he would pay me for it as a job."
PEEK— GUILTY — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
CLARK— GUILTY — Nine Months' Imprisonment .
155. JOHN HEATH (20) , Burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Thomas Blundell, and stealing therein 2 hams, I pair of boots, and other articles, his property. Second Count—feloniously receiving the same.
MR. RIBTON conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LEWIS the Defence.
THOMAS BLUNDELL . I live at Alpine Terrace, Forest Hill—on 20th November, I came down stairs and found the window open—it was shut and fastened at 12.30—all the doors were open—they had been closed the night before—somebody had got in by the window and broken open the office door where the money was—but there was none there that night—I missed two clocks, two hams, some cheese, bacon, a dead goose, two ducks, a pair of boots, and a waistcoat—I afterwards saw my boots taken off the prisoner's feet—I saw my two hams afterwards.
JOHN THOMAS FOX (Police Sergeant). I found out the prisoner's lodgings, and found a large portion of the property there which the prosecutor identified—the prisoner first said that he bought the ham at a shop in Forest Hill, and when the whole of the property was brought forward he said he bought it of two men who were going away by the last train, and gave them a sovereign for all.
GUILTY on Second Count. — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment .
There was another Indictment against the prisoner.
Before Mr. Recorder.
156. ELLEN WELLS (16) , PLEADED GUILTY to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Kingston Mark, and stealing a cruetstand, 7 bottles, and other goods, his property— Judgment respited . And
157. WILLIAM SAXBY (50) , to stealing 50lbs. weight of lead, the property of the Queen, and fixed to a building: having been before convicted of felony— Twelve Months' Imprisonment . [Pleaded guilty: see original trial image]
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BINDLEY conducted the Prosecution. The evidence was interpreted to the prisoners.
SARAH REBECCA WILSON I am servant to Mr. North, who keeps a licensed refreshment shop, at 119, Blackfriars Road—on the 16th November, about 10.30, Miller came and asked if I had a bed for two, and how much it was—my sister said "A half-crown"—he said "I will go outside and fetch my friend," and brought back Brown—they both spoke English—next morning, at 9.30, I went into all the rooms, they were all right and I looked them all, except No. 5, in which the prisoners were—I called them, and they came down about 10.15—I passed them on the stairs, and they both said "Good morning"—they left directly—one had his coat buttoned up, and looked rather stout—I found all right in their room, but in the afternoon my master called me up to No. 6, and I missed a counterpane and three blankets from the bed, which were there when I fastened the door in the morning.
JOHN COOK (Policeman L 112). I took Brown in York Road, Lambeth, and took him to the Lower Street Station, at 10.10 on Tuesday night, December 1st—I searched him and found a piece of candle—an ordinary door key fell from him—I said, "Here is your key" he said "No, it don't belong to me"—nobody else was near who could have dropped it
PATRICK FRANCIS KEANE (Policeman L 121). I searched Miller at the station, and found three keys, one of which is a regular skeleton key, and a watch guard—I went to Mr. North's house, and the skeleton key opened the doors of Nos. 1, 2, 5, and 6.
EDWARD JOHN NORTH . I keep a licensed refreshment house in Blackfriars Road—Keane brought these keys to my house, and I found one of them opened No. 6, the room which was robbed—the value of the property lost was 1l. 1s.—I had no other lodgers that night—I did not see the prisoners.
The Prisoners' Statements before the Magistrate. Brown says:—"I went to sleep in that house, but I took nothing. We were not alone in the house; it was a public lodging, and there were other persons in it."Miller says:—"It is quite true we were in the house, but we did not take anything. We went out in the presence of the young lady and the master and mistress of the house, and if we had anything on us they must have seen us. I account for the keys; each of us had one. We had permission of a friend who has gone to Belgium to sleep in his room, and, as we were not always together, we had each our key to go in."
Brown's Defence. We both had keys exactly similar, and if you desire to know where I had my key filed, the blacksmith lives in Old Compton Street. It is not an extraordinary thing that one key will open several doors; my key will do the same. There was plenty of time between 10 and 3 o'clock for people to take the things.
Miller's Defence. Both keys were made for the same lock, and we each had one. The bit of candle found on my comrade was used to get up and down stairs of an evening. It is impossible that anybody could get out of a house with such a large parcel of linen without being seen. There was a man in the next room to us who got up twice or three times in the night.
JURY. Q. Had anybody the opportunity of getting into the room, No. 6, from 9.30 till 3. A. No, because there was nobody in the house but ourselves, and there is a tell-tale on the doors.
BROWN— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been convicted at Clerkenwell, on January 7, 1868, to which he PLEAED GUILTY.**— Seven Penal Servitude .
MILLER— GUILTY — Five Years' Penal Servitude .
Before Robert Malcolm Kerr, Esq.
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
SEPTIMUS WILLIAM SMITH . I am a surgeon, at 111, Blackfriars Road—on 5th December, the prisoner came to my place, about 10.30 in the evening, and asked for a pennyworth of antibilious bills—he gave me a bad shilling—I asked him where he got it from—he said, "At the Royal Oak"—he said he did not know it was bad—I called in a constable, and gave him in charge with the shilling.
HENRY EDWARDS (Policeman L 125). I took the prisoner into custody on the night of the 5th December—I asked him where he got the coin—he said he could not account for it unless he got it at the Royal Oak, or in the country—I asked if he had any more about him—he said "No"—I searched him, and found another bad shilling in his waistcoat pocket, and 21/2d. in coppers—the prisoner said he was very sorry, and hoped I should not do anything in it—I took him to the station.
GUILTY — Twelve Months' Imprisonment .
MESSRS. POLAND and O'CONNELL conducted the Prosecution.
FRANK NOYES . I am barman at the Swan, in the Old Kent Road—on 26th October last, the prisoner was there about 7 o'clock, with several men—I served him with some beer—he paid with a shilling, and I gave him the change—he then had some more liquor, and paid with another shilling—he gave me seven shillings during the evening—I put them in the till as I got them—there were only 2s. in the till when I put the first shilling the prisoner gave me in—they were good—we take the money out of the till every two hours—I examined the till at 8 o'clock, and found the seven shillings the prisoner had given me were all bad—the prisoner was still in the house, and while I was looking at the shillings he bolted out—I am sure he was the man that came in on the 26th—I saw him two or three times between the 26th October and 2nd December—he came in once or twice—he did not pass any money then—on the 2nd December he came in and was served—he paid with a bad shilling—I jumped over the bar and caught hold of him—he said he knew nothing about it—he offered to pay a good shilling—a constable was sent for, and he was given into custody—I gave the eight coins to the head barman, and he gave them to the constable.
CHARLES CARRINGTON . I am head barman at the Swan—I saw the prisoner there on 26th October, and saw the last witness serve him several times, and he put the money in the till from time to time—at 8 o'clock I went to the till to clear it—there were nine shillings in it, seven were bad—I took charge of them—the prisoner went out of the house—on 2nd December he came again—he then paid with a bad shilling—I said, "You have
been in about a month ago and passed seven more"—he said, "I was getting it up for him"—he was given into custody—I gave the 7s. to the constable, and also the one he had uttered that day.
FRANCIS MINCHEN (Policeman M R 23). On 2nd December I was called to the Swan—the prisoner was given into my custody for uttering counterfeit coin—I received eight shillings from the last witness—I found two good shillings on the prisoner.
Prisoner's Defence. I don't think it is reasonable that I should stand before the bar without him detecting me. I went there several times, but they never gave me into custody.
NOT GUILTY .
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 11TH JANUARY, 1869.