CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT
J. C. LAWRENCE, MAYOR.
NINTH SESSION, HELD JULY 12TH, 1889.
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, July 12th, 1869, and following days,
BEFORE THE RIGHT HON. JAMES CLARKE LAWRENCE, M.P., LORD MAYOR of the City of London; The Right Hon. Sir WILLIAM BOVILL, Knt., Lord Chief Justice of Her Majesty's Court of Common Pleas; THOMAS CHALLIS, Esq., THOMAS QUESTED FINNIS, Esq., and WILLIAM LAWRENCE , Esq., M.P., Aldermen of the said City; The Right Hon. RUSSELL GURNEY, Q.C., M.P., Recorder of the said City; THOMAS DAKIN, Esq., ROBERT BESLEY , Esq., ANDREW LUSK, Esq., M.P., JOSEPH CAUSTON, Esq., and THOMAS SCAMBLER OWDEN, Esq., F. R. G. S., Aldermen of the said City; THOMAS CHAMBERS , Esq., Q.C., M.P., Common Serjeant of the said City; Her Majesty's Justices of Oyer and Terminer and General Gaol Delivery of Newgate, holden for the said City, and Judges of the Central Criminal Court.
WILLIAM JAMES RICHMOND COTTON, Esq., Alderman.
CHARLES WILLIAM COOKWORTHT HUTTON, Esq.
ALEXANDER CROSLEY, Esq.
CENTRAL CRIMINAL COURT.
J. C. LAWRENCE, MAYOR. NINTH 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, July 12th, 1869.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MESSRS. POLAND. and F. H. LEWIS. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY. the Defence.
JOHN HENRY SOLLER . I am a watchmaker—on 9th October, last year, I paid at the office of the Abney Park Cemetery Company 1l. 15s., for the interment of a relative—the person I paid gave me a receipt, he wrote it in my presence (looking at two papers), this is the receipt, they both relate to the same transaction—I only had one receipt—I can't tell which is the receipt I received—it was given to me, but it was only in my possession about three hours, the undertaker took it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the undertaker go with you? A. No, I went by myself—I only had the receipt in my possession about three hours—I took it direct from the office to the undertaker, Mr. Cooksey, of Amwell Street—I can't speak to this being the actual paper I received; it was one of the two.
MR. POLAND. Q. Was the name of your relative Mary Ann Soller? A. Yes.
PHILIP UNDERTON . I am an undertaker, at 1, Brunswick Place, City Road—on 6th February last I went to the offices of the company, at 12, Great St. Helen's—I saw the prisoner, and paid him 1l. 15s. for the burial of a person named Rebecca Geldart—the prisoner gave me this receipt—he filled it up in my presence.
Cross-examined. Q. You have been an undertaker for some years, pro-bably? A. I have—I did not take this paper to the cemetery in order to get the grave, that is done by the office—sometimes we pay the money at the cemetery, there are precisely the same forms kept there—I have had a
great many transactions with this company—I never took any notice of the numbers on the receipts—I believe all the receipts were of the same character.
MR. POLAND. Q. You say you can, if you like, order the grave at the cemetery, or at the office? A. Either one or the other, it is quite immaterial.
JOHN PERRAM . I am a gentleman, residing at Southboro Road, Hackney—on 6th February last, I believe I saw the prisoner at the office of the company at St. Helen's—I paid there 1l. 6s. 3d. for the interment of Percival K. Perham—the person to whom I paid it gave me this receipt—I believe it was the prisoner.
THOMAS HARDING . I am an undertaker, at 345, Albany Road, Camberwell—about 8th February last, I went to the office of the company, 12, St. Helen's Place, and paid 1l. 8s. 6d. for the interment of Daniel Cresswell—I can't say to whom I paid it; the person gave me this receipt, or rather this is the counterfoil of it, the receipt was handed in to the friends of the deceased—a receipt was given to me—I signed this counterfoil; it was then in a book; I signed it for the commission, that was my receipt for it—the commission was 1s. 6d.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been in the business of an undertaker? A. Only twelve months, since my father's death, but I was acquainted with the business in his lifetime—I have conducted business with this company several times before, I have frequently been at the office—I never applied for the grant of a grave, the friends generally do that—my course is to hand the receipt to the friends to show what I had paid for it—if a grave has to be re-opened, we require an authority from the owner of the grave—the production of the receipt is not always necessary; in some cases it is required; the receipt would then come back to me again—I have never paid money at the cemetery itself—I do not know whose handwriting this is, "Same level if possible;" it is not mine.
THOMAS BLISS . I am clerk to my father, an undertaker in Bethnal Green Road—on 8th February I went to the office of the company, in St. Helen's Place, and paid 1l. 13s. 3d. for the burial of Sarah Clark—I paid it to the prisoner, and he gave me a receipt—I signed this counterfoil.
GEORGE WILLIAM SMITH . I am an undertaker, of 69, Queen's Road, Dalston—on 29th March last, I went to the office of the Abney Park Cemetery Company, 12, St. Helen's Place, saw the prisoner, and paid him 1l. 15s. less the commission; it was for the interment of Anna Maria Barber—the prisoner gave me this receipt, and I signed this counterfoil, it was in a book when I signed it.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been in the business? A. About eighteen years—I have had many transactions with this company during that time—as far as I know all my receipts have been in the same form as this, I never knew them different—there have been numbers on them, but it has not been our business to look at the numbers; I looked to see that; I had a proper receipt for what I paid.
HENRY SEWARD . I assist my father, an undertaker in Bath Street, City Road—on 31st March last, I went to the office of the company, in Great St. Helen's, and there paid to the prisoner 2l. 12s. 6d. for the interment of Elizabeth Croxton—this is the receipt—and this is the counterfoil I signed in the prisoner's presence—at the same time I paid the prisoner 1l. 15s. for the interment of Fortunatus E. Andrews—this is the receipt he gave me, and I signed this counterfoil in this book.
JAMES WADFORD . I am an undertaker, in St. John's Road, Hoxton—on 3rd April last I went to the office of the company in Great St. Helen's, and there paid the prisoner a sum of 1l. 15s. for the interment of Hephzibah Elmers, he gave me this account of the company's charges, it is a receipt, and I signed this counterfoil in this book.
WILLIAM HEATH . I am a solicitor, and carry on business at 12, St. Helen's Place, Bishopsgate Street, City—I am secretary to the Abney Park Cemetery Company—that is a company established by deed, which I have here—Ebenezer Clarke is one of the trustees—there are nine trustees altogether—the company's offices are at 12, St. Helen's Place, part of the same offices as mine—I have been clerk and secretary twenty-one years—a person named Samuel Howell Carter was in the employ of the company as clerk, at a salary of 100l. a year—the prisoner was also a clerk—he had been in the company's service since 1856—his salary was 1l. a week—the business of the company at the London Office, 12, St Helen's Place, was managed by Carter, the prisoner, and myself; no other person—it was the duty of either Carter or the prisoner to receive money when persons came to pay for interments—we have had books printed, which are termed rough order-books—it would be the duty of either Carter or the prisoner, on receiving the money, to fill up the counterfoil and the rough order-book, and give a duplicate of it as a receipt to the person paying the money—he would sign it when he received the commission, not without—there is a printed receipt with my name to it—the document itself, in fact, forms the receipt—when it is above 2l. a stamp is put upon it, but if it is under 2l. The document itself represents the payment—if there is a commission paid to the under-taker, the person receiving the money for the company ought to get the undertaker to sign the counterfoil—all the particulars required ought to be filled up properly—there is what is called a fair order-book, which ought to be nearly a transcript of the counterfoils and the rough-order book, not entirely—it contains all the items of money paid—every transaction appearing in the rough order-book ought to appear also in the fair orders book, with the corresponding number taken from the rough order-book—the numbers ought to run on consecutively—there is also a book called a register of burials—that is in Court—it was the prisoner's duty to fill up all the columns in that register—the first number on the receipt refers ti the number in the register, not the number of the grave—then there is the date, name, sex, age, late abode, where buried, name of officiating minister, date of certificate of death, name and district of registrar, and name of the undertaker—that register would be kept by the prisoner—if the prisoner received money he ought to hand it over to Carter—it was Carter's duty to keep a cash-book, and to enter in that the money he received—Carter used to account to me every week—it was my practice to examine his cash-book with the rough order-book, and also with the fair order-book, and see that they corresponded—I did that regularly every week up to the time when he absconded—I found that all the money which was entered as received in the rough order-book and in the fair order-book was properly accounted for in the cash-book—sonic time early in April last, I, with my partner, Mr. Parker, examined the books—on the following day I went to the office—I found that Carter was not there—I have seen nothing of him since—I gave directions that same day to have him apprehended—in consequence of Carter not being at the office, I made a search in the office where Carter and the prisoner used to sit—that was either the same day or the subsequent
day—I found this cover, which I have no doubt is the cover of one of the rough order-books—I also found this book at the bottom of a deep long drawer, covered with some old papers—some of the entries on these counterfoils are in the prisoner's handwriting, and some in Carter's—there are no consecutive numbers, or any numbers at all—none of the moneys entered there as received have been accounted for to me, nor are any of them entered in the fair order-book—but all the particulars of them are entered in the register of burials in the prisoner's handwriting—I found a number of bundles of counterfoils, which I produce—there are about 750 or 800; some of them go up to the time of the prisoner's absconding—it is quite evident that they have been torn out of a book—about half of these are in the prisoner's handwriting, and about half of them in Carter's—this smaller bundle refers to last year, from April to April, our official year—there are about 150 of these—about half of them are in the prisoner's writing, and about half in Carter's—they are not entered in the fair order-book, but they are entered in the register of burials, in the prisoner's handwriting—none of the money referred to by these counterfoils has been accounted for to me—it would be necessary to preserve these counterfoils in case a grave should be required to be re-opened for a new interment—certain charges are regulated by the depth of the grave, and it would be necessary to refer to the last interment, with a view to ascertain that—that would not appear in the register of burials—unless these counterfoils had been kept neither Carter or the prisoner could have given the necessary information—when I found his book and papers I spoke to the prisoner on the subject—he was with me when I was making the search—he was standing by my side when I discovered all these bundles of counterfoils—I then took him into my private room, and asked him how he accounted for those—I pointed out to him that they were party in his handwriting and partly in Carter's, and that no such documents ought to be in existence at the office—he could give no account of them—I then said, "I will examine some of these and ascertain if they are in the register of burials"—I referred to several names which I had previously investigated, and requested him to find out from the rough order-book where those names were entered—he referred to the book, and could find none—I then said, "How do you account for this?"—he hesitated a little at first, and then said, "I don't know; I don't know how it could be; they must have been torn out of the book"—I said that was impossible, because the book would show it immediately, the orders all being numbered consecutively, and in addition to that, any person who looked at the book could see nothing had been torn out of it—I asked where he obtained the materials to fill up the particulars—he said he obtained them from the certificate of the registrar of deaths of the district—I said, in reply, "That is impossible, because there are several particulars in them that you cannot find from the registrar's certificate"—he made no reply to that; he could give no explanation of it—it is a fact that the certificate of death does not contain the necessary materials to enter upon the register of burials—he could only get them from these counterfoils—this counterfoil of 9th October, relating to Mary Seller, for 1l. 15s., is in the prisoner's writing—Carter's initials are not to that; it is not in the fair order book, but it is in the register of burials—this counterfoil relating to Rebecca Geldart, for 1l. 15s., is in the prisoner's writing; that is not in the fair order-book, but is in the register of burials—this counterfoil relates to Percival K. Perram, for 1l. 7s. 6d., on
6th February, in the prisoner's writing—that is for a re-opening—this it not a receipt—I call the paper given to the customer a receipt—the one we keep is the counterfoil—these three papers are receipts—this last if not in the order-book, but is in the register of burials—this counterfoil of 8th February, of Daniel Cresswell, is the prisoner's writing; that, also, is not in the order-book, but is in the register—this counterfoil, for 1l. 13s. 3d., of Sarah Clark, on 8th February, is the prisoner's writing, and is also not in the order-book, but is in the register—this counterfoil, of R. M. Barber, is also in the prisoner's writing, and is in the register, but not in the fair order-book—on 31st March I find a receipt for 2l. 12s. 6d., for Elizabeth Croxton, on 1st April—that is in the prisoner's writing—that is not in the fair order-book, but is in the register of burials—I find a counterfoil of that in this book, which I found covered over with papers—it is not torn out of the book, the book contains recent dates—the counterfoil is in Carter's writing—here is a receipt of Fortunatus E. Anderson, that is a mistake for "Andrews," dated 1st April, in the prisoner's writing—I find a counterfoil of that in this book, in Carter's writing—that is in the register but not in the fair order-book—this receipt for Hephribah Elmers, of 3rd April, is in the prisoner's writing, that is not in the fair order-book, but is in the register of burials—certificates of death have to be given before a burial can take place; they are sent up to any office; these are two of them relating to Croxton and Elmers—they do not contain all the materials for entering up the register of burials, only a portion—I was not at all aware of the existence of this book until I found it underneath the papers in the office—there was a rough order-book of the same date, which was being used at the same time, which had been laid before me week by week—this is a book of which I knew nothing, and in which no numbers are entered—after this conversation with the prisoner he remained in the office for a short time either that day or the next; he then went out, under pretence of getting his lunch, and did not return—I applied for a warrant, and he surrendered himself about a week afterwards.
Cross-examined. Q. Are these counterfoils of Daniel Croxton, and Sarah Clark in the handwriting of the prisoner? A. Yes, both—they are both signed by the prisoner, initialed by Carter, and that of Elmer's also—that is in the book, it is dated 3rd April.
MR. POLAND. Q. Look at these three counterfoils of Seller, Geldart, and Perram; are those in the prisoner's handwriting? A. All three—two of them are initialed by Carter; Terrain's is not.
MR. BESLEY. Q. What is the date of that? A. 6th February—Carter sat at the same desk with the prisoner, side by side—from time to time he would be absent at his dinner, and the prisoner alone receive the money—it was then the practice to have Carter's initials on the counterfoil—when. together the prisoner would fill up both the counterfoil and receipt, and Carter would take the money, there would then be no necessity for the initialing—Carter was twenty-one years in the service; I had very great confidence in him, and also in the prisoner—I and Carter both lived at Tottenham; we were on friendly terms, not intimate; I did not very often see him except during hours of business—I came to town by omnibus, he came by train; some years ago I travelled with him by train, not lately—I have been out with him once or twice on shooting excursions—I don't know that Carter used the waste paper on those excursions; I never saw it—I have latterly complained to Carter of his absence from business, and told
him unless some alteration was made I should bring it before the directors; I complained of his being negligent of his duty—I did not complain of his playing billiards—I was not aware of it at the time, I have heard of it since—I complained of his inattention to business, and being so long at his dinner, and being absent so many hours—the prisoner was occasionally absent from illness; his health was not very good, and his brother occasionally came to assist in his absence—I kept a cash-book between myself and Carter—I have it here—I frequently took sums from Carter on account, from day to day during the week; it was entered simply as cash on account—when Carter was absent, and the prisoner has taken money, I have occasionally taken it, and he has entered it in Carter's cash-book, and I have initialed it—I examined the cash received with the rough order-book every week, except when I have been out of town, then it has run on for two or three weeks—I also examined the cash-book with the fair order-book, not with the register of burials—the register of burials is absolutely correct as far as I have been able to discover; that is a book which the prisoner kept—these loose papers were found in a little drawer in old-fashioned desk, which I was never in the habit of going to—the prisoner did not open that drawer, he was standing by; he did not take out the papers, I took them out; I opened them and saw that some of them were in his writing—he did not take out the book, I found that—these counterfoils ought to have been in some rough order-book—they go back some four years, I think—I see some are printed in 1863 and 1864—I should judge from that they went back six years, unless they kept back one of the old books which had not been used—the orders might not go back so far as that, the heading is printed 1863—I have not referred to the dates, I can only go by the date at the top—it must have been an old-book—half of these 150 counterfoils, I should say, are in the prisoner's writing—a good many of them have Carter's initials on them—these have been examined by our book-binder—he did not point out that the counterfoils had been stripped out from the rough order-book—he said that one or two had been pasted in one of the books—he pointed out that there should be precisely the same number of counterfoils in each fold—he did not say that any were missing or removed—he said the book had been tampered with in some way—I did not understand him to say that some of the folds contained less than the proper number—from 1863 there was never any examination with the register of burials—it was in that way it was discovered—it was not Mr. Bontems who suggested that an examination should be made—the way in which it was discovered was this: I heard from one or two gentlemen that Carter had been very extravagant in his expenditure—that aroused my suspicion—one of the gentlemen said Carter had informed him that he had private means—I believed that was not the case—Mr. Higgs' matter was notorious at that time, and that induced me to make the investigation—it was not made at the suggestion of a large shareholder—I am under surety for the fulfilment of the duties of the office to the extent of 1000l.—I think very few of the shareholders have said that I ought to pay Carter's deficiences—I have heard it said, but a large majority of them take a very different view—I never suspected Carter of living extravagantly until I received that information—the shooting did not attract my attention at all all—I was very rarely out with him, and I saw no extravagance on those occasions—we only went into the marshes at Tottenham—there was no expense at all, except the powder and shot; not even the expense of a rail-way-ticket,
we were on the spot—I have seen Carter making entries in the books when persons have come with orders—I don't remember that I ever saw him commence a new book—he had the control of all the books—orders were constantly given at the cemetery, and sent on to the office, every week—I went through the superintendent's accounts every week, and brought them up with me—there is a rough order-book kept at the cemetery, but of a somewhat different form, having two counterfoils instead of one; one is sent to the office and the other remains there—either Carter or the prisoner entered from the loose papers that came from the cemetery into the rough order-book at the office; sometimes one and sometimes the other—Carter generally entered them at the time, but if he happened to be a little in arrear he would count the number of orders, and leave a space for them—that would not make it impossible for a person paying at the office to get a receipt with a consecutive number—there was always a consecutive number—I have not got any receipts here with consecutive numbers on them, because these are all orders that have not been accounted for—I don't know that there never was a consecutive number; it would be the duty of Carter and the prisoner to enter the consecutive number—I have never been present when a receipt has been given without a consecutive number—orders were always given to Carter or the prisoner—I did not take orders—I can only tell you what their duty was—I can't say what they actually did—I think the conversation with the prisoner was about the 16th April, but I am not sure—he did 'not tell me that he did his work under Carter's direction—he told Mr. Lewis, the solicitor, so—he was present at the time—he said he had, sometimes written in the register of burials from the direction of Carter, that Carter sometimes dictated to him what to write in it—that was said in the same conversation I have referred to.
MR. POLAND. Q. You have been asked about giving security for 1000l.; you are the clerk to the company? A. I am; that is with reference to money that I myself receive—this prosecution is sanctioned by the directors; it is their prosecution, in fact—I think I once went to the marshes with Carter, shooting, and once to Leigh or South end—if I was absent, when I returned I went through the books, and audited in the regular way, to sec that the money in the cash-book corresponded with the fair and roughly order-books; and I directed him in my absence to pay in any money to my account—when money was paid on account by Carter or the prisoner, at the end of the week I saw that the total corresponded with the amounts received—the last entry in the prisoner's handwriting is on 17th April.
JAMES BRETT . I am a detective officer—I received a warrant for the apprehension of the prisoner on 19th April—I did not look for him, I was engaged in seeking for Carter—the prisoner surrendered on the 23rd.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury and Prosecutors — Six Months' Imprisonment.
MR. STRAIGHT. conducted the Prosecution.
4 o'clock, I went into the board-room to clear the lunch—the directors had been lunching there, about 2 o'clock—I missed seven forks, two spoons, and a cruet-stand—I went up stairs and told Mrs. Uttley, my mistress—I had seen the spoons and forks in the morning, and had cleaned them.
EDWIN UTTLEY . I am head messenger at the Bank of Australasia—on Wednesday afternoon, 30th June, in consequence of what I heard, I went into the luncheon-room, and missed the forks, spoons, and cruet-stand—I then went into the board-room, and missed a gold nugget and a piece of quartz, from the mantelpiece, which I had seen safe that morning—I gave information to the police, and afterwards saw the property at the Bow Street police station—these are them (produced).
JAMES LINHAM . I am a porter at the Cannon Street railway station—I attend to the water-closets there—on the afternoon of 30th June, I noticed the door of one of the compartments had been closed for a long time—I gave information to a superior officer, a policeman was sent for, and brought out the prisoner—I kept watch till the policeman came.
WILLIAM DYKE . I am timekeeper at the Cannon Street station—the prisoner was taken into custody on this Wednesday afternoon—he said he had been to a silversmith's that afternoon, and got the things there.
JAMES MEARING . (City Policeman 608). I took the prisoner into custody—before doing so, I got on a ladder and looked over the door of the water-closet, and saw the prisoner looking at the things produced—he caught sight of me, and gathered them together as quickly as he possibly could—I knocked at the door and asked him to come out—I then asked him whether he had any silver about him—ho said, "No"—I then asked what he had in the coat—he directly took out this cruet-stand, and said, "I have this"—I said, "Have you any morel"—he said, "Yes, I have some forks," and he produced these—I asked if he had anything more—he said he had some spoons—I took him to the station—he there said that his master hid sent him from Norwood to Bayswater after the things.
Prisoner. Q. When you first saw me, did not I say to you, "Look here?"A. No.
The prisoner put in a written defence, stating that he found the things in the closet.
GUILTY. of receiving. He also PLEADED GUILTY. to having been before convicted— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY.;—
605. WILLIAM CRAWLEY (19) , to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Sarah Vaughan, and stealing two books and other articles, her property— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
606. LOUISA HOOLE (17) , to a burglary in the dwelling-house of George Alexander Keith, and stealing a silk dress, and other articles, his property— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
GUILTY. on Second and Third Counts —HERBERT— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. —MIDDLEDITCH— Six Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Monday, July 12th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
FRENCH PLEADED GUILTY .
MESSRS. CRAUFURD. and STRAIGHT. conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY CAVALIER . I keep the Pendennis Castle, Lamb Street, Spitalfields—on 10th June I served two persons, who I believe to be the prisoners, with a pint of beer; one of them gave me 1s., and after they left I found it was bad—I had put it in the till, but there was no other shilling there—on 17th of June they came again—I served them with a pint of beer—French gave me a bad shilling—I said, "Here is a bad shilling; I recognize you both as giving me a bad shilling last week"—they both declared it was not them, but I gave them in charge.
THOMAS WEBB . (Policeman H 7). I took the prisoner, and received these two bad shillings—I left them at the station in charge of 145 H, who said when I returned, "She has dropped some money from the back yard, and the younger one picked a shilling up and swallowed it"—I took a shilling from French's hand.
station when the prisoners were brought in—French tried to swallow two shillings—they nearly choked her, and she spat them out on the ground—Burke picked up one of them, and put it into her mouth, and swallowed it—I asked her for it, she said she had not got it—she was very white in the face, and was foaming at the mouth—French picked up the other shilling, which was taken by Webb.
BURKE— GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. CRAUFURD. conducted these Prosecution.
ANNIE FAUPEL . My husband is a baker, of 19, Langley Place, Commercial Road—we are Germans—on 8th June, I served the prisoner with a half-quartern loaf, which came to 2 3/4 d.—she gave me a bad sixpence—I kept it in my hand, and spoke in German to my husband, who shut the door and called a policeman—I told the prisoner it was bad—she said she could not help it, she did not know it—I had seen her four or five weeks before—she had a half-quartern loaf then, and gave me a sixpence, which I threw in the fire directly she was gone, and it melted immediately—I told her that I recognized her, and she said it was a mistake.
Prisoner. You are mistaken, I never was in your shop before. Witness. I am sure you are the person, I knew you well by sight.
Prisoner's Defence. I did not know it was bad.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD. conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ELIZABETH JANES . I keep the White Horse, Princes Street—the two female prisoners came there, and Hall asked for a pint of four-half—she gave me a bad shilling—they both drank of it—I gave them change, and they left—a constable then came in, and I gave him the only shilling that was in the till—it was bad.
Hall. A after I gave you the shilling, you took some silver out of the till. Witness. I took 6d. out—there was no other shilling there—I did not notice that the shilling you gave me was a smooth one with a lion on it, but the policeman has it.
JOHN MARTIN . (Policeman C 62). On 6th June, I was on duty in Rupert Street, and saw Samuel Scalding—I followed him—he joined the two female prisoners in Princes Street—I saw them pass some coin—I could see that it was coin—he then left thorn, and they crossed Coventry Street, and entered the White Hart public-house—I waited till they came out, and then went in and spoke to Janes, who handed me this shilling out of the till—I came out, and saw the male prisoner join the females—I took them in custody—the man said, "I know nothing of the women;" and they said, "We know nothing of him"—directly afterwards he said that he had not
seen them for half-an-hour—at the station Samuel Skelding threw a parcel behind him into a basket—I found in it one parcel containing three florins, another two florins, and another two shillings—I searched Samuel, and found on him a half-crown and 5d. in copper, good—he saw me find the parcel, but said nothing—only two keys were found on Ann Skelding.
GEORGE NEWBY . I am barman at the Duke of Wellington, 28, Princes Street, I served Samuel Skelding with a half-quartern of gin, he gave me a bad shilling, it bent easily—I told him it was bad and gave it back to him, and he paid me with a good florin—a man named Periner was at my house and followed him.
Samuel Skelding's Defence. My wife is as innocent as the child she has in her arms.
Hall's Defence. The shilling I gave I am certain was not bad—I never saw the man before.
SAMUEL SKELDING— GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
HALL— GUILTY .— Six Months' Imprisonment.
ANN SKELDING— NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD. offered no evidence— NOT GUILTY .
MR. CRAUFURD. conducted the Protection.
JAMES BRANNAN . I am engaged by the Mint in coming cases—on Saturday afternoon, 12th June, inconsequence of information, I went with Miller, Inspector Brannan, and other officers, to an oil-shop, in King Street, Drury Lane, and saw the prisoner in the back parlour, in Miller's custody—I said, "Mr. Cane, you are suspected of having counterfeit coin in your possession"—before ho had time to reply, Miller said, "He swallowed a lot, sir; I saw him with a lot in his mouth, shillings"—he said, "No, I swallowed some tobacco"—I said, "Where do you live?"—he said, "Nowhere; you must find out"—I said, "We shall take you to 5, Smith's Court, Drury Lane"—he said, "I never lived there in my life; it is no use to take me there"—we took him there to the second-floor front room—Hine called to me from the floor below, and handed me a packet with this counterfeit coin, partly wrapped up, and said, "Come down, we have found the coin in the prisoner's. room"—I went there and found Hine and Mrs. Pickerton, and Hine handed me a newspaper containing thirty half-crowns, thirty-eight florins, and forty-five shillings, wrapped in tissue paper, with paper lapped between—they had undergone the process of slumming with tallow and lamp-black, to give them the appearance of circulation—the prisoner was brought down stairs, and I told him what we had found—he said that he never lived in the room, but Mrs. Pickerton said, "Yes, George, you know you have lived there for the last six months"—he made no reply—Inspector Brannan searched the prisoner, and took from his pocket a piece of paper which corresponded
responded with that in which Hine handed me the coin—I found a file on the table, with white metal in its teeth—I saw a black terrier in the room, which I have frequently seen with the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. Where were the two pieces of paper compared? A. In the room, before the landlady and the officers.
WILLIAM MILLER . (Policeman G 148). I was with Hine, in Queen Street, Drury Lane, and saw the prisoner there, about 1.40—Hine took him, and I got hold of him, pulled him, backwards into Mrs. Brown's oil-shop, and kept him there—I saw him put something into his mouth, seized his throat, and held him till he got black in the face—I saw this piece come out of his mouth, and said to Brannan, "This is counterfeit"—I held him until he had swallowed it—he then said that it was tobacco he had swallowed—we had a struggle close to some funnels—Brannan came and said, "Well, Mr. Cane, you have been apprehended for passing counterfeit coin"—I said, "Yes, Mr. Brannan, he has swallowed some "—the prisoner said "It was tobacco"—Brannan asked him where he lived—he said that he had no fixed address—Brannan said, "Bring him to 5, Smith's Court"—we took him to the second-floor front there, and then took him down stairs—I saw Hine hand a quantity of counterfeit coin, in paper, to Mr. Brannan, which was taken from a box—I saw Inspector Brannan take a piece of newspaper from the prisoner's pocket.
PHILIP HINE . (Policeman F 169). I was with Miller when he took the prisoner—I went with him to the oil shop, and to 5, Smith's Court; there was no one there then, and I went for the landlady—the door was padlocked outside, I broke it open and in searching the room, found this key hanging over the mantel shelf—I also found a box with a piece of carpet in it, and this piece of newspaper tied up, containing twenty half-crowns, thirty-eight florins, and forty-five shillings, I handed them to Mr. Brannan—the landlady came up, and Miller brought the prisoner down—there was a black terrier there, which I have seen in the prisoner's hands.
Prisoner. Q. How often have you seen the dog in my company? A. Daily—I did not see you till you were brought to the first floor—I was taken into the front room before you were brought to the house—Miller, who had you in custody, did not know where I was.
JAMES BRANNAN . (Police Inspector G). I went with Mr. Brannan to the oil shop, and then followed, with the prisoner, too, Smith's Court—Miller took him to the second floor in mistake—I searched him on the first floor, and found this piece of newspaper in his left-hand coat pocket—I handed it to Mr. Brannan who compared it with the newspaper in which the coin was wrapped—the prisoner said, "Do not put any bad money into my pocket"—I said, "No, I will not do that, but you won't deny that I found this in your pocket"—he said, "No, I won't."
ELLEN PINKERTON . I live with my husband in Castle Street, Holborn—we are lodging-house keepers—we rent the house, 5, Smith's Court, and let it out in separate rooms—the prisoner lodged there about two years—he lived six months in the first floor front room, of which he kept the key—I was present when the coin was found—I have collected rents from the prisoner for the last two years.
Prisoner. Q. Have you any books to prove it! A. No—a girl named Hamilton lived with you there for two years—I have seen you in the room every day for the last three months—I have not received any rent from your hands during the last two months—the woman you lived with paid me.
FREDERICK BROWN . I keep an oil-shop, at 24, King Street, Long Acre—on 12th June, Miller brought the prisoner there—they struggled in my back shop, where I keep my oil funnels—I saw the prisoner putting something into his mouth—I have heard Miller's evidence, it is correct—next day I found a packet in one of the funnels—I gave it to the sergeant, who opened it, and showed me some bad shillings—I had used that funnel on Saturday morning, there was nothing in it then.
Prisoner's Defence. Nothing was found in my possession to connect me with the coin. The place is not mine; I travel in the country as a hawker.
GUILTY .— Five Year Penal Servitude.
MESSRS. CRAUFURD. and STRAIGHT. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MOODY. the Defence.
SARAH HIGKS . I am single, and live at 6, Macclesfield Street—on Monday night, 7th June, I met the prisoner in the Haymarket—he went home with me, and next morning Harriett Smith, who lives in the same house, came into the room with some cards—the prisoner was there then—he played at cards with me, and won 4s. 7d. of me—he got his breakfast with me, and when he was going away he laid these two medals on the table, saying that if I gave him 10s. he would give me 1l. 10s.—he represented them as being two sovereigns—I made up the 10s., with some half-pence, as I had not enough silver, and gave it to him—(he had shown me the money going home the night before; he had his waistcoat pocket full)—I jumped up to put them in my purse, and as he was going out I said, "These are bad ones"—I threw one to my friend, and she said that it was not good—I followed the prisoner into the street, and he said that if I did not go back he would split my b—head open—I saw him again the same night, and the night following—he tapped me on the shoulder, and said, "Are you engaged?"—I said, "No"—he said, "May I go home with you?"—I said, "No; give me my money, or I will give you in charge"—he got away, but I spoke to the police—I saw him on the Sunday night following—he jumped into a cab, I called to the cabman, and the prisoner jumped out at the other aide—when I met him again he said, "I am obliged to come up the Hay-market with my collar turned up, and if you go on with it I shall get twelve months in prison"—I walked up the Haymarket with him, and left him and spoke to a policeman, who took him.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you known him before? A. No—I had not taken him home a week before—the cards came in about 9 o'clock in the morning, and went on till 11 o'clock—I gave him the 10s. before he produced these coins—he was not going off with a girl when I gave him in custody, but with a gentleman friend of his—I have never seen him walking with another girl—I paid him 4s. 7 1/2 d. which he won of me—he took out a handful of coins, and said that he had won them on the Derby—I never drank with him in a public-house—he never paid me 15s.
Hicks lives in the same house—on the morning this occurred, I went into the prosecutrix' room, and gave her a pack of cards which she had asked me for—the prisoner was in her room—he asked me if I knew the three game trick, which he had been playing with my friend—I said, "No"—I am certain he is the man—I saw him leave, and as he went down stairs the prosecutrix threw these coins into my room, and asked me whether they were good; I said, "No."
ABEL DICKENS . (Policeman C R 17). On 8th June, Hicks spoke to me, and two or three nights afterwards she described the prisoner, but I could not find him—on the morning of the 17th she gave him into my charge—he said he had never seen her before—I searched him at the station, and found in his waistcoat pocket a medal resembling these—Hicks delivered these two medals to the sergeant in my presence.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . These three medals are brass—they are the exact size of a sovereign, and have the Queen's head on them, as a sovereign has—the colour is not good, but it might pass—the knerling is very good—the legend is not correct, it is, "To Hanover; and there is a figure of the King of Prussia on horseback.
Cross-examined. Q. Would any person who looked at the obverse side sec that they were not sovereigns? A. They might not at night; they might be deceived by it—George the Third sovereigns have a man on horseback upon them—these medals are often used for card playing purposes.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate: "I can say I am innocent of receiving 10s. from that girl, or any money whatever."
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of hit youth.— Six Months Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Tuesday, July 13th, 1869.
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. BRINDLEY. conducted the Prosecution.
ANN WOOD . I am a widow, and live at 4, Queen Street, Shoreditch—the prisoner was a lodger in my house—on the 8th July one of my lodgen hung a sheet out in the yard of 4 1/2, Queen Street—the value of it was 2s—this is it (produced)—I last saw it on the 8th July, about 1 o'clock—I afterwards saw it at the pawnbroker's.
THOMAS MILLS . I am assistant to Thomas Smith, a pawnbroker, of 47, Visited Street—this sheet was pledged at our shop on the 8th July, by the prisoner, for 1s. 8d.—she came to the shop next morning and wanted me to make an affidavit, as she had lost the ticket, and wanted to redeem it—I gave her an affidavit to that effect—I understood it was her own property.
COURT. Q. Did you know the prisoner by name? A. I have known her in the neighbourhood six or seven years—she has borne a good character—I have no reason to doubt her respectability—she gave me the money for the sheet when she redeemed it.
EDWARD KEMP . (Policeman G 268). I took the prisoner into custody for stealing the sheet—she said, "I did take it"—she said she would not have taken it had she known it belonged to Mrs. Wood, and that she meant to take it back.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. DALY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. POLE. defended Carney.
ELLEN MURTY . I live at 3, James Street, Islington—on Saturday, 5th June, I was coming from the Carved Red Lion public-house—I saw the two prisoners together—Hays came up to me and tried to pick my pocket—I told him he ought to be ashamed of himself for trying to pick a poor woman's pocket—Carney followed me into Colebrooke Row, and said, "What did you call me a thief for?"—I said, "I did not"—he said, "I will knock your b—eye out"—he made a grab at my brooch, and he gave me a violent blow, and then knocked me down and kicked me three times in the side—Hays was not there at the time I was struck—he came up after and said, "I have not touched you"—I had a half-crown and 3d. in my hand—Carney knocked it out of my hand and took my brooch—he then ran away—Hays came up just as I got up—he said, "I have not touched you—I said, "All right"—with that he took two halfpence out of a child's hand, and ran away with them—the money was in my hand when I came out—I am sure of that, for I came out to pay it.
Cross-examined by MR. POLE. Q. What time was this? A. 1 or 2 o'clock in the afternoon—I was coming from the Red Lion—I am not a—I had had a half-pint of porter—nothing more than that—I did not call teetotaller Carney a thief—I did not say anything to him—I saw him take my brooch from my shawl—it did not fall out in the scuffle—I was not at all excited—after he struck me Carney ran away round the corner of Essex Road—Car-ney had gone when I got up from the ground—I can't say whether he took the money out of my hand, or whether it fem.—I had it in my hand—I looked down to see if I could find it, and I could not.
Hays. Q. Did I strike you? A. No, you did not touch me—I don't know where you live.
REV. JOSEPH HAZLEGRAVE . I am a clerk in holy orders—on 5th June I was coming home from church—I saw two men and the last witness apparently in altercation together, as I got to the top of the street—I can't positively swear to the two men—my belief is that the prisoners were the men, but I could not positively swear—as I got near to them, one of the men seized the woman by the throat, in a very furious manner, and struck her two terrible blows in the face, then lifted his leg, and gave her A fearful kick in the lower part of the body, and she fell—I called out to the man, and made an effort to reach him, but he ran away—I never saw his face—the other man came up shortly after, and said, "Where is the villain gone? I will take him "—there was a little child standing near—she said, "That way," and pointed with her hand—the man took something out of the child's hand, and ran away—I then went to the woman—it was so momentary that I cannot swear to the men.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you not, at the Police Court, swear that it was Hays who seized the woman? A. No; certainly not—I was examined at the Police Court—I distinctly swore that I could not identify the men—my pression was that it was the little one—I did not know his name was Hays then—I swear to nothing, except an impression.
Hays. Q. Did not you say that the men were dressed different? A. I
thought so—one had a light coat on, like a navvy—I don't recollect what the other man had on—I never saw the men's faces.
WILLIAM HAYES . (Policeman R 66). I took Carney into custody, on Mon-day evening, 7th June—I said, "Carney, I want you "—he said, "What for; I suppose it is about that old woman who was knocked down and robbed, in Colebrook Row—he wanted to make a rambling statement, but I cautioned him—I took him to the station—I took Hays, about 9.45, in Essex Road—I said I should take him for being concerned with Carney he said, "I was there, but I am innocent."
Cross-examined. Q. What do you mean by a rambling statement? A. He tried to say something that I would not lend my ear to—it was a rambling statement.
Hay's Defence. I am innocent; the prosecutrix knows nothing about me.
CARNEY— GUILTY .*— Seven Years' Penal Servitude, and Twenty Lashes with a Cat.
HAYS— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted, in January, 1865, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
624. ELLEN SULLIVAN (32), JOHN BURNS (17), and FREDERICK GEORGE (23) , Robbery, with violence, on Maria Bowden, and stealing a purse, a chain, a brooch, and 7s. 6d. in money, the property of John Bowden.
MR. GRIFFITHS. conducted that Prosecution; MR. HOLLAND. defended Sullivan; and MR. F. H. LEWIS. defended Burns.
MARIA BOWDEN . I am the wife of John Bowden, a carpenter, of 49, Charles Street, Drury Lane—on the night of 27th June, about 12 o'clock, I was, with my husband, turning the corner of Charles Street—my husband walked on before me, he went to take a pot of beer up stairs for supper, while I was going to pay the landlady—when he had gone Sullivan came up to me and struck me a violent blow in the face—a man was with her, who I believe to be the prisoner George—after Sullivan struck me Burns struck me—I had a purse in my pocket containing 7s. 6d., also a gold brooch, a jet chain and cross—I lost them all—I was knocked about so dreadfully I could not prevent them—my husband came up afterwards.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLAND. Q. Did this occur in a crowded thoroughfare? A. No; it is a small, narrow street, leading out of Drury Lane; there was not many persons about—this was about the time the public-houses turn out their customers—I had not seen Sullivan before that day; she lives in the same street, she is a most notorious character—I had not been drinking with her—I did not say before the Magistrate that she had been annoying me all day—she had been annoying persons in the street—she used to sleep on our stairs, and my husband used to send her down—she did not know me personally till I was pointed out to her—I was quite sober, and am quite certain I had these things in my possession.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. Had you ever seen Burns before? A. No—I saw him on the Sunday after, and gave him into custody in Charles Street, tossing—I am positive he is the man that struck me—I do needle-work when my husband is out of work, and get my living in the best way I can, by work—there were no persons about when I was assaulted, a great many came up afterwards—Burns ran away.
she did not come as soon us I expected, I went to see where she was—I found her surrounded by Bums and Sullivan; they would not let her pass—Sullivan struck her three times, and Burns struck her afterwards—I went to rescue her, and George caught me round the waist, threw me, and lucked me—he hurt me, I feel the effects of it nov—George was taken into custody but made his escape, I saw him escape.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLAND. Q. Was Sullivan drunk? A. She was; not very—she knew what she was doing—she was trying to strike my wife, and would not let her pass—there was no challenge to fight.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. How many persons were round your wife at the time you came up? A. None but Burns and Sullivan—some came up afterwards—being bustled about as I was, I can't say—I was thrown to the ground and kicked; I should say there were about a dozen—the Middlesex Music Hall is in Charles Street, about twenty or thirty yards off.
Cross-examined by MR. HOLLAND. Q. Was Sullivan very drunk? A. She was drunk.
GEORGE WASHINGTON . (Policeman F 161). I took George into custody at the corner of Charles Street; on the way to the station he escaped—the prosecutrix said in his presence that she had been knocked down and robbed.
JOSEPH WINTER . (Policeman F 97). On 30th of June I took George into custody—the prosecutrix and her husband identified him at the station—he was placed with several others in the usual way—I charged him, he made no answer.
George. Q. Did not they first say the man was not there? A. Yes—I told them to look again, and the second time they said they believed you were the man.
EDMUND WOODHEAD (Policeman F R 36). I took Burns into custody about 3 o'clock on the Sunday afternoon—the prosecutrix was with me, and told him the charge—he said he knew nothing about it; he came out of the music hull about 12 o'clock—there is a music hall about 100 yards from Charles Street, it closes about 12 o'clock.
BURNS received a good characters.— NOT GUILTY..
The prisoners SULLIVAN and GEORGE were subsequently convicted, on the same evidence, of an assault, and occusioning actual bodily harm,— Five Years' Penal Servitude each.
MR. DALY. coutlnctrd that Protection; MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. defended Shay.
GEORGE NEWBON . I keep the Brown Bear public-house, East Smithfield—on the ninth of 22ml June I shut my house up—I was called up by the police about 1.30—I found the front door open, and the things in disorder—I shut the door, and went to bed again—about half an hour afterwards I was called again by two constables—I then missed 5l. worth of never from a marble slab—there was 10l. left, but there was a gloss with some spills in
it which shaded it, and they did not Bee it—one till of copper was clear out, hat there were only a few halfpence and farthings in it—I also missed some cigars—Looney had been in my house that night; he was one of the last men I turned out—he had an opportunity of seeing the money.
Cross-examined. Q. How could he see it? A. Anyone could see the money that came in.
JOHN FOX . (Policeman H 144). On 23rd June, about 1.45 in the morning, I saw the two prisoners in Bird Street, Lower East Smithfield, walking and talking together—when they came within five or six yards of me, Looney turned round and ran away—Shay passed me; he went about half way along the street and looked about, as if looking for the number of a house, or for someone—I went round my beat, and when I came back to the corner where I had first seen them, I saw them again—they had got within about five yards of such other, but I was too quick to allow them to meet—Looney ran away a second time—I then asked Shay what he was loitering about there for—he said, "Nothing"—I asked him where he was going to—he said, "Nowhere"—I then asked what he had under his arm—as soon as I asked him that, he attempted to run away—I took this mug from under his jacket—I took him to the station, and there found on him 5l. in silver, 1s. 3d. in farthings, and 6d. worth of copper besides—I after-wards took Looney, about 5.30 in the morning—I had known him by sight between three and four years.
JOSEPH MARRIOTT . (Policeman H 174). On the morning of 23rd June I was in Glasshouse Street, about 12.45 or 12.40—I saw both the prisoners there, within a few yards of each other—they were outside the Crown public-house—that is about 150 yards from the Brown Bear.
Looney't Defence. I am quite innocent of the charge. I was in bed at the time this man was taken into custody; my landlord can prove it. I was with Richard Callaghan, and the policeman must have mistaken him for this prisoner.
RICHARD CALLAOHAN . On the night Looney was taken, I was in his company from 10 o'clock up to 1—we were at the Brown Bear, and went from there to the Crown—we stopped there until we were turned out, and Looney then saw me home—we went home together—I live at No. 2, Bracey's Buildings—during all that time I never saw the prisoner Shay—I don't know him; I never saw him till I saw him in the dock at Arbour Square—I had a drop of drink in me—I was drunk, but I recollect what happened in the public-house.
MRS. CALLAOHAN. I am the wife of the last witness—he was very drunk on this night, and was brought home by Looney, who works with him—it was between 12.30 and 12.45—he brought him up stairs—our house is not above five minutes from the Crown—he stopped up stairs about five minutes—I went with him to the corner of the green yard—I bade him good night, and saw him go indoors—that is between the Crown and where I live—I saw him home because he had a drop in him.
Cross-examined. Q. Does anybody live in your house besides you? A. Yes; two families—they did not see the prisoner—I was the only person sitting up—I only guess the time to be 1.45, because our clock is always twenty minutes past—I saw him knock at his door—I don't know how he got in, I daresay his landlord opened it.
THOMAS YATES . Looney lodged at my house—I remember the morning he was taken into custody—I can't say what time he came home the night before, I think it was between 12 and 1 o'clock—I opened the door for him—I was asleep at the time, and my wife awoke me when the rap came to the door—I only guess at the time—the policeman came about 6 o'clock in the morning, and nobody could well get out of the house again after coming in, without my knowing it—I was not examined before the Magistrate—Looney had been lodging with me about eight months—he is a very honest, hardworking man—he is sometimes out all night following the boats and helping the stevedores.
JOSKEPH MARRIOTT . (re-examined). I am quite positive Callaghan is not the man I saw with Looney—I may have seen Callaghan before, but I don't know him—I knew Shay before, I have seen him about the streets on several occasions.
SHAY*†— GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
LOONEY.— NOT GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS.
EMMELINE SCOTT . I am a widow, living at 4, Ring's Square, Goswell Road—on 12th May, I was living at 4, Weat India Road—I went out about 9.15 that evening—before I left I bolted the back door inside, and shut the front door after me—I returned about 10.50, and could not open the front door—a neighbour forced it open—when I went in I missed a waistcoat from the shop window, and found it on the counter—I found the back door open.
Cross-examined. Q. You went out at the front door? A. Yet, I pulled it to, as I generally did—I did not try it afterwards—I have no doubt it caught—when I returned my latch key would not open it—it was fastened on the inside.
THOMAS HUGHES . (Police Sergeant K 49). On the night of 12th May, about 11 o'clock, in consequence of information, I went to 4, West India Road—I saw a light in the shop—I tried the front door, and it was fast—I knocked at the door, the light then went out—I heard a voice—I afterwards saw three or four men on the roof of a house adjoining, No. 4—I heard a voice on the opposite side of the road say, "They are getting out of the back"—I went to 14, Penny fields, which is at the back of 4, West India Road, and found the prisoner in the back parlour—I took him to the station—I then went back and examined the prosecutrix's premises—the front door was then open, and Mrs. Scott was in the shop—I found this waistcoat on the counter—the back door was open, and there were marks on the wall in the back yard of some person having got over there—persons could get from there on to the roofs of some small houses into Pennyfields—when I got back to the station, I found that the prisoner had escaped—I am sure he is the man.
Cross-examined. Q. Was there any light in the room where you took him? A. Yes—Mr. Cox head had hold of the prisoner when I got there—the prisoner complained of his arm; it was bandaged, but not in a sling.
PHILIP ADAMS . I keep the Commercial Tavern, in Pennyfields, Poplar—on his night, a little after 10.30, I was passing by West India Road, and saw a light in the shop—I burst open the door—I went to my own door and
saw the prisoner going up the tiles from Mrs. Scott's back door—the beam he was on broke through and let him down—he scrambled up again, and got behind some chimneys, and I lost sight of him—I am sure he is the man—I got him down from there, and saw him taken to the station, and I saw him go out of the station; he escaped past me.
Cross-examined. Q. Had he his arm done up then? A. Yes—with a bandage.
CHARLES COXHEAD . I live at 16, Pennyfields—on this night I heard an alarm—I ran into my yard, and saw a man go into the window of No 14—I called out, and laid hold of him, and held him till Hughes came up.
The prisoner here stated that he would plead guilty.
GUILTY . *— Eighteen Month's Imprisonment.
MR. LANGFORD. conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN ROBERT MONTAGUE . I am a painter, at Colney Hatch, in the parish of Finsbury—on Friday night, 18th June, I went to bed about 10.45, after locking up the house—I got up Aleut 5.30 in the morning—I found the place in disorder—two squares of glass were broken in the kitchen win-dow, by which means it had been opened—I missed a gown, a waistcoat, a pair of boots, a small scarf, and a hat—these are them (produced).
ELIZABETH ODELL . On Sunday, 20th June, I missed a bonnet from my house—about 8 o'clock in the morning I went into my garden and found this waistcoat on a rose bush—I afterwards saw the prisoner in custody with my bonnet on her head.
GUILTY. of receiving. — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DALY. conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABLETH DAVIS . I am the wife of John Davis, of 28, Arundel Street. Bethnal Green—on Saturday night, 5th June, about 12 o'clock. I saw the prisoner in my house; he was at the end of the passage, with the back door in his hand, which had been taken off the hinges, and a piece of candle alight—I hallowed out "Oh!—he knocked me down—I saw another man—I followed the prisoner into the garden—he knocked me down twice in the garden, and tried to make his escape through the next door, No. 30—Mr. Draper caught him—when I saw him in custody he said to me, "You are the woman, I don't mind doing six months for you ";—I missed nothing from inside the house; but two brass taps and some lead pipe were missed from the yard, by the back door—I had fastened up the house myself about 8.30 or 9 o'clock—he had got in by opening the kitchen window—I found that broken so that he could undo the fastening.
THOMAS DRAPER . I live at 30, Anundel Street—on the night of 5th June, a few minutes after 12, I saw the prisoner in the Royal Standard, next door but one—there were two men with Hun; one stood in the road, and I watched them—I saw the other two go up the street—the prisoner turned
the corner, and went into the back yard, and then I saw him coming very quickly through the passage—I asked what he had done there—he said he had made a mistake—I went out and went up stairs to get a light, and then I came down again—I saw him coming from our workshop, and go to the closet—I called out, "Who is there?"—he said it was only a friend—I fetched Thomas Pratt, and we struggled with him, and got him through the passage—he got away, but ran into a policeman's arms—I found a hat on the Sunday morning on the tiles of the Standard public-house, just at the side wall of the prosecutor's house—I don't know whether the hat was tried on the prisoner.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you knock me down when I came out of the closet? A. Certainly I did; you wanted to get away.
FREDERICK MARTIN . (Policeman H 135). I took the prisoner into custody in Charles Street—he was running very fast—I searched him at the station, and found on him two knives, a piece of wood, which was broken off the door, a tobacco box, some lucifer matches, and two pieces of candle—I saw that the prosecutor's door had been broken off the hinges—it was a very temporary door—the houses are very old.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I tell you that a young man named George had allowed me to go to this closet? A. Yes; but he denied it—George has gone into the country—he was no doubt concerned in this affair—his name is George Bolton—he lodged at No. 30.
Prisoner's Defence. I was in the Standard public-house, and was taken very ill. I spoke to this man called George, and he showed me to this closet, and when I came out that person struck me and ill-used me.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DALY. conducted the Prosecution.
JANE HUTCHINS . I am servant to Joseph Gilbert, at 67, Albion Road—on Thursday morning, the 16th June, I got up about 7 o'clock in the morning—I found the pantry-window open, and also the door into the back-yard, and a shutter up against it to keep it open—I missed some pork, and beer, and bread, from the pantry—the beer was in a cask—I had seen all the things safe the night before—I had closed the house up the night before, and the back-door was shut.
NOAH ARTIR . (Policeman N 360). About 4.30, on the morning of 17th June, I saw the prisoner with another man, at the back of the Albion Rood, in the garden of a house, a few doors from the house that was broken into—they were looking about, and when they saw me they ran away—I afterwards saw the prisoner in the custody of another constable, about a quarter of an hour afterwards—a chisel and a knife were found upon him—I afterwards went to 67, Albion Road, and examined the back-door—it had been broken open, and the marks on the door corresponded with both these chisels—the prisoner was charged at the station—he said nothing.
Prisoner. Q. Where did you get the large chisel from? A. It was in the garden where you ran through—I did not find it—I did not see any marks corresponding with the knife.
JAMES RUSSELL . I live at 4, Lansdown Terrace—on Thursday, 17th J une, I was in the road, at the back of Albion Road—I saw the prisoner in the gardens, with another man—I saw them cross three or four walls, and go to three or four doors and windows—I saw them try to open one window, and then they went to the next, and so on—I saw the policeman after them, and saw them run—I don't know which is Mr. Gilbert's house.
GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLET. conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS HUGHES . I live at 10 1/2, New Inn Yard, and keep a beer-house—on the morning of 30th June, about 3 o'clock, I was disturbed by the police, and came down stairs—I found the police outside, with the prisoner in custody—I examined the cellar-flap, and found it partly raised—it was fastened by three bolts underneath—I found it partially raised—I had seen it safe the night before, at 12.30.
STEPHEN MERBONY . (Policeman G 193). On the morning of 30th June, I was in the New Inn Yard—I saw the prisoner there, with two others, near Mr. Hughes' beer-house—the prisoner was in a stooping position, over the cellar-flap—the men all ran away when they saw me—I followed, and sprung my rattle—the prisoner was stopped by policeman 90 H—I went back to the house, and called up the prosecutor, and then the flap was examined—I took the prisoner to the station.
Prisoner. Q. Which way did I run? A. From Bateman's Row towards Shoreditch Church—you did not turn round and ask what I wanted you for.
MAXWELL ALLINGHAM . (Police Sergeant G 15). I saw the prisoner stopped by the last witness—on the 29th June, about 3.45, I saw the prisoner and two men loitering about in the Curtain Road, up one street and down another—they went to a coffee-shop in Shoreditch—I went in after them—I searched the prisoner, and found a cotton handkerchief similar to this one (produced)—it was not hemmed—I heard the rattle the next morning—I went into the cellar of the house where the flap was raised, and found this handkerchief on the kitchen table, wrapped up in a piece of paper.
Prisoner. Q. Did you find that handkerchief on me? A. One similar to it—I believe it to be the one.
Prisoner's Defence. I am innocent of this charge. At the Police Court I was charged with attempted burglary, and then I was committed for trial here on a different charge altogether. I was coming down Curtain Road, and the two constables came up. One of them hit me in the eye and knocked me about, and then took me in charge.
He was further charged with having been before convicted in March, 1865, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. ROLLAND. conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM HAMPTON . I am an engineer on board a steamship—on the 16th June, I was in the Whitechapel Road—I lost my way, being a stranger in London—I was going to where my ship was lying—it was between 1 and 2 o'clock in the morning, as near as I can judge—it was 12 o'clock before I left the Whitechapel Road—as I was going along, four men pounced upon me and knocked me down—one got his arm round my neck, one sat on my head, and one on my chest—one man said, "Keep him quiet, you b—fool, and don't let him halloa"—they took 21s. and a few coppers, my boots and cap—as soon as they ran away with the booty, I got up and ran after them, and ran them into a water-closet till two policemen came up—they took hold of them and took them to the station—there were four altogether—two got away—I never lost sight of them—I have not the least doubt that they are the men—I was as sober as I am now.
JAMES TOKER . (Policeman K 334). On the morning of 16th June, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I was in High Street, Shoreditch—I heard cries of "Police!" and "Murder?"—I ran up, in company with another constable—I saw the two prisoners running away from the prosecutor, and we ran them into a water-closet—the prisoners are the two men.
Lakeman's Defence. I am quite innocent of it.
Earley's Defence. I am innocent.
LAKEMAN— GUILTY . **— Five Years' Penal Servitude. BARLEY**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
The following prisoners PLEADED GUILTY.:—
633. GEORGE SMITH (63) , to stealing two printed books of William Darling Griffiths and another, having been before convicted of felony— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
636. JAMES TOOMER (32) , to a burglary in the dwelling-house of Joseph Goddard, and stealing a shawl and a piece of bacon, his property— Nine Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
638. WILLIAM RICHES (22) , to stealing a lamp and other articles, the property of William Powsey; and also to burglariously breaking and entering the dwelling-house of Charles Frederick White, and stealing a quantity of beef, mutton, bread, and other articles— Twelve Months' Imprisonment. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
NEW COURT.—Tuesday, July 13th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MESSRS. BESLET. and MOODY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. J. MACRAE.
MOIR. the Defence.
London—I produce a copy of a deed, and an affidavit annexed to it—they purport to be made and signed by the defendant—I have here the affidavits made under the rules in bankruptcy—this affidavit was made in pursuance of the statute as to three-fourths in value.
Cross-examined. Q. How do you know it is the original deed? A. It was produced in the Police Court, from the officer—it has never been in my office.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Is there an endorsement on it? A. Yes; that this is the deed referred to—I produce the register copy deed, which was left, and the deed; they correspond.
ROBERT JOHNSTON . I am one of the ushers of the Bankruptcy Court—on 10th October, these affidavits and this certified copy of a deed were brought to me in the Bankruptcy Court, to be sworn—I administered the oath to the defendant, and initialed the accounts—I administered the oath on both.
Cross-examined. Q. Are you prepared to swear that you administered the oath to the prisoner? A. To the person signing his name to the affidavits—I am not prepared to swear that the prisoner is the man—I ad-ministered many oaths that day.
JAMES RIGG BROUGHAM . I have been one of the registrars of the Bank-ruptcy Court upwards of twenty years—this Bankruptcy Order was sworn before me—I have initialed the accounts—the statutory affidavit was also sworn before me the same day—the original deed will be produced—this copy deed tears my signature—it is the one referred to in the affidavit.
Cross-examined. Q. Then you administered the oath? A. Not in this cose; but it was administered before me—when the usher administers the oath, he puts his initials; I sign it, seeing the initials of the usher as having administered the oath; I put my initials on the faith of the initials of the usher—October 10th was a very busy day—I have not the slightest remem-brance of seeing the prisoner there—the usher nearly always administers the oath in Court, but in chambers no usher is present, and we do it ourselves.
THOMAS WILLIAM PAYNE . I am a solicitor, of 49, Bedford Row—I was employed by Mr. John Harris to recover a debt against Daw, a few weeks before 14th November, 1868, when the judgment bears date—the debt to Mr. Harris, and the costs recovered, amounted to 36l. 8s. 6d.—the writ bears date 20th September, 1868; it was served on 30th September, and was endorsed for 31l. 12s.—I never saw the defendant, as far as I remembersition, I obtained a meeting, at which Shortland and Smith were examined—Mr. Mann was examined about 8th February—I examined them, and after that I got an appointment for the defendant to show cause why execution should not issue—that matter came on on 6th March, before Commissioner Winslow—the defendant was present; he had counsel—questions were put to him by the Commissioner—I placed the account in Daw's hands, and the Commissioner then said, "You have heard what has seen said; did you get the assent of Mann to your deed?"—Daw replied, "By word of mouth"—the Commissioner said, "Did you get his assent in writing?"—he said, "No, I did not"—the Commissioner said, "Did you get the assent in writing of Shortland?"—he said, "I did not"—the Com-missioner said, "Did you get any assent from Shortland?"—he said, "No, I did not, your honour—that Commissioner said, "This deed cannot stand,"
addressing the prisoner's counsel, and he mode this order (produced) for execu-tion to issue—it has the seal of the Court, and this other is the original, signed by the registrar—I placed both affidavits before the Commissioner; but this one, verifying the accounts, I referred to particularly, and said to him, "Is this your signature?"putting any finger to the foot of the deed, and saying, "Did you swear to this affidavit?"—he said, "It is my signature, and I swear it."(The accounts showed the debts to be 968l. 6s. 6d. There were sixteen creditors, twelve of them assenting, who represented 793l. 14s. 6d., and among them were Richard shortland for 47l., H Poole for 200l., Edward Mann for 157l. 10s., and Miles Smith for 150l.)
Cross-examined. Q. Had you a private meeting on 28th December? A. I am not certain of the date—Mr. Reid is the attesting witness to the creditors' signatures; I did not examine him—I have been solicitor to Mr. Harris some few years—I put the defendant in prison in order to get my client's debt—I understood that the prisoner had some property, which he had assigned away—I have searched and found a bill of sale, making away with all his cab horses and stock in trade, to Miles Smith—I do not hope to get the money by these proceedings, it has been lost long ago.
MR. BESLEY. Q. What was the result? A. Judgment by default—judgment was not obtained till 13th November, we had to take a circuitous route to get the writ served—I do not find that Shortland, or Mann, or Smith actually executed the deed.
WILLIAM ANTON MILLER . I am clerk to the last witness, and was present when the application was made to issue execution on Mr. Harris's judgment—the whole of the papers were hi Court—I was present in the Bankruptcy Court, on 6th April, when application, was made for the defendant's release—I showed him a copy of the deed, and the affidavit annexed to the ac-counts—I put my finger on the affidavit, and asked him whether it was his name and handwriting; he replied that it was—I asked him if he had signed the deed of which that was a copy, he said, "Yes"—I asked him if he was aware when he made that affidavit, that he had not obtained the assent of Edward Mann; he said that he was aware of it.
Cross-examined. Q. Notwithstanding the opposition, was he released? A. Yes.
EDWARD MANN . I live at 10, Bristow Street, New North Road—I now travel on commission—in 1868, I was carrying on business at 243, High Street, Shadwell—in October, 1868, the defendant was indebted to me 157l. for corn and other goods supplied—that was the unpaid balance of the account—I asked him for payment, in October, and he said that he was making a composition deed—he asked me to sign it, but I do not think he showed it to me—I said, "No, I want my money"—he said that he could not pay me, he was going to pay 1s. 6d. in the pound, and that was not to be paid at once—I think the other 6d. was to be in three months—I received 1s. in the pound, 7l. 17s. I think it came to—I gave him a receipt for that, but signed no other paper—the deed was not tendered to me for signature—I saw it in his possession, I think—I was asked to sign it, and said that I would not—I was also asked to sign it after I got my 7l. 17s.—I have been in business, at Shadwell, about twelve months—I was unfortunate, and obliged to go through the Bankruptcy Court—I have had three shops, and been unfortunate in all of them—I know Henry Rmhbrook—I assented to his deed, and had only 1s. 6d. in the pound then.
Cross-examined. Q. Whether you signed the deed or not, you assented
to the composition? A. Yes, my liabilities were about 800l.—this is my signature to this account of the transactions between me and the prisoner, the amount of it is 267l. 17s. 6d.
MR. BBSLBT. Q. Are those the proceedings in bankruptcy? A. Yes, my accounts are all filed, I filed one copy at the official assignee's, and one at the Court—one copy was not filed, because it was not quite clean—I signed every page—I was bankrupt on 12th October, 1868—I knew nothing about Mr. Poole or Shortland when I received the 7l. 11s. 6d.
RICHARD SHORTLAND . I am a butcher—in October last I lived at 83, Frederick Street, Caledonian Road—I have known the defendant two years—he owed me some money before June, and Mrs. Daw paid me for what she had—I did not sign any deed of composition, or assent, in writing; nor did I know of any such dead being prepared in October last—I first became acquainted with its existence at the bankruptcy.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you had considerable transactions with the prisoner? A. Yes, I always did business with his wife—they did a considerable business in tripe and sheep's heads—the amount was not so much as 47l. in July—I have been paid some by Mrs. Daw, by instalments—the prisoner was not present when they were paid—he is a cab proprietor, and I believe he was out with his cabs—he tries to get an honest living—a good many of his horses died.
MR. BESLEY. Q. How many of his horses do you know of dying? A. Twenty or thirty, last year—I sold him a horse, and went there—she used to pay me instalments of 1l. and 2l.—there was no new debt before I was examined in the Bankruptcy Court—the debt was paid off in June, or July—I had a horse from the prisoner, in payment, before the last instalment was paid.
MILES SMITH . I am an oil and colourman, of Approach Road, Victoria Park—I have known Daw nineteen years—I supplied him with goods and money between 1867 and 1868, and the debt amounted to quite 150l., to secure which he made this bill of sale in September—I had it registered within the month—I did not then know that he was going to offer a composition—the bill of sale included all his horses, cabs, and other things—I allowed him to hold possession of that goods—he did not apply to me to sign the composition deed—I never signed any paper assenting to it—I made some sales under this bill—19l. worth were sold by him directly after I got the bill, with my permission—I did not get 5l. out of the 19l.—it was after the second sale, I think, that I was applied to—a man named Reid applied—that is he—he asked me if I was willing to take composition, and I said "Yes;" but when they came to me I said, "Oh dear, no"—a paper was shown to me; he had some papers in his hand—I gave my sanction for the sale at Somers' Repository, and he received the money, and never handed it over to me—I have not brought my papers, and cannot recollect when the first sale was—I can read writing—I do not know that I have been asked on several occasions to bring the papers from Somers' Repository.
Cross-examined. Q. You brought all the papers? A. I had papers at Guildhall, and I brought the same here—I have known Daw nineteen years; I knew him when he was in prosperity—when Mr. Reid called and asked me to give my consent, I said, "Yes," sarcastically, but afterwards I said, "Oh, no"—I asked the prisoner for the bill of sale, as I had no security; but I did not tell him I should not let him have the money.
Wick—the defendant was brought to me by Mr. Reid—I do not remember that anyone else was present—this deed was shown to me, and I signed it as the attesting witness of Daw; this other is certified by me to be a true copy of the original deed—I only attended to the attestation.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you attest it on Saturday, the 10th? A. On 6th October—this certificate of a true and correct copy does not bear a date—the deed was completed when I certified.
COURT. Q. The signatures appended? A. Yes—the signatures are above it—I should not have known how many signatures there were going to be, but it was signed, and I certified immediately below the signatures.
THOMAS WILLIAM REID . I am an accountant, of Tread way Street, Hackney—I have been a solicitor's clerk—about the end of last September Daw spoke to me, and I in consequence proposed a deed—he supplied me with the names of these seventeen creditors—I understood G. H. Poole to be a builder—I had had no transactions with him—I saw him at Hadding-ham's house, and told him I had got a list of Daw's creditors, and asked him if he would sign the deed—he said, "It will be a great loss to me; I had better put up with the loss and take what I can get"—I got his signature to the deed—it was for 200l., which was the amount given me by Daw—saw him once at his house, 19, Harrogate Road—I saw him not more than twice between both October and 5th March—I did not know that he used any name but Poole till he was tried for misdemeanour, in the other Court, in the name of William Austin (See vol. 1 xix., p. 451)—I saw Garner at the same time—I did not act for Austin or Poole; but I was asked to watch the case, to see that counsel was in Court, and I did so—I saw Miles Smith in reference to signing the deed, and when I asked him if he would consent to the composition, he said, "Oh, yes "—I asked him if he would sign the deed of composition, and he said that he did not see any necessity—I did not get a written assent from him or from Shortland—I went to Edward Mann, and asked him to sign—he said that he would not; he had already got composition, and had given Daw a receipt—I did not ask him for his assent in writing; I thought that was sufficient—I know Milton, Silley, Richards, and Pillion—I saw them all, and was present when Hicks certified the composition deed—I appear for 25l. 0s. 6d.—I did not notice that he spells my name Weld instead of Reid—when I wrote my name as attesting witness, I did not notice that my name was spelt wrong—I do not think I prepared the affidavits to the accounts—I find Daw's signature to the statutory affidavit, and there is his signature to the accounts—I prepared his preliminary statement; this is my signature to it—I acted for him in the bankruptcy, so far as making my affidavit of service, and am acting for him now—I did not act for Poole.
Cross-examined. Q. Did the prisoner entrust you to prepare his composition deed? A. Yes—he gave me a list of his creditors, which I have searched for everywhere; it was a small piece of paper, and no doubt I have destroyed it—the statement I have seen here is a correct copy of the original—I went to the addresses of the parties named, and Daw went with me to a great many—I found no discrepancy between what the creditors had agreed to—I appear there as a creditor—I account thus for my name not being correctly spelt; the original deed was handed to the prisoner after I got the signatures, and he did not bring it back till after 10 o'clock on Saturday, and I was obliged to call in assistance to get it completed, and to get the account completed, and the office closed that day at 2 o'clock—the
whole matter was done in great haste—the prisoner told me that Miles Smith was secured, and Mann had already got the composition, and given a receipt for it—I took them to be accepting creditors, and put them down assenting creditors on my own responsibility—the prisoner said nothing to me upon the necessity of "getting assent in writing; so far as I know these transactions have been bond fide on his part—this "Three fourths in value," is in writing—there was undue haste when the affidavits were sworn; it was all done in an hour and a half, the whole of the accounts and all; there was no time to look into anything—there was not time to read over the affidavit and to get it registered—in the whole of my transactions with the prisoner no part that he mentioned to me turned out untrue—I observed no attempt to conceal the real state of his affairs from his creditors—I did not know that he had paid Shortland, till I was examined at the Police Court—I have known Daw five years—he lost a great many horses—I do not think I was present when the affidavit was sworn, I think I sent Anderson; I was compelled to employ two or three people that day—the accounts and the affidavits were attended to in the same hurried manner—they have passed the Court unchallenged hitherto—I had seven or eight people's business to attend to on that day, I was locked in the office till 5 o'clock, and they would not let anybody out or in after 2 o'clock—I do not think any explanation was given to Daw; they were taken up in that hurried way, and he was compelled to sign his name.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Your answers apply to 10th October? A. Yes—they were all signed on 6th October—I went more than once to Mr. Hicks—he could not have signed the copy deed at the some time as the other; the signatures could not have been there when the defendant executed the deed—they were all on the deed on 6th October; he put a horse and trap to and drove me round to get the signatures—there was hurry on that occasion; he said that if I gave him the addresses he would get them, and I saw nothing more of him till the morning of the 10th—the accounts were not touched then—on 10th October I went to Mr. Hicks again, to his house—I have been a creditor of his—I should think the first portion of the money I signed for, 4l. or 8l., has being owing to me four years—I have got no memorandum of any of these loans—I had been out of a situation as an attorney's clerk.
MR. BEHLBY. Q. Did he come to you first or to Mr. Hnddingham? A. I think the first conversation was in his own house, Mr. Haddingham had offices, and I told him he had better come there—I did not take Daw to him, nor did he bring Daw to me—I knew that assents in writing were necessary—I got the men's receipt in writing, that is all—I never saw Clayton, Miller, Robinson, or Richards but once, when I attested their signatures—I did not sec that my name was spelt Weid—the notice addressed "Weid" found me.
WILLIAM BENNETT . I am a builder of 30, Alice Row, Mile Knd, and am landlord of 19, Harrogate Road, South Hackney—in August 1867, I let that house to William Frank Garner, he occupied it about a year and H half, and left on 5th November, 1868—I understood his name was Poole, but he gave me the name of Garner—I never saw William Austin—I could not get possession of the house after 5th November, 1868, he left two quartern rent due, and I got possession three months afterwards—I found some papers in the house, this (produced) is one of them—as far as I know, the business of a builder was not carried on there, or any business at all.
MR. BESLEY. to J. W. REID. Q. You saw Poole who signed that deed on 6th October for 200l.? A. Yes, I saw him tried in the adjoining Court, in the name of Austin; Austin and Poole are the same person—I did not know him by the the name of Austin till he was tried.
THOMAS TUDOR HALL . I am one of the firm of Hall & Kussell, engineers and wholesale ironmongers, of Upper Thames Street,—in September, 1868, William Austin, who was tried in the Court, came and gave the name of G. H. Poole, he gave a card—I saw him several times—he said that he was a builder, and gave orders for goods to 30l. and 40l. value—I got no money—in the course of the transactions with the prisoner at 19, Horrogate Road, I received these orders, and it was upon them that I parted with my goods—I am speaking of William Austin, who I saw in the other Court.
Cross-examined. Q. You know nothing of the prisoner? A. No, I never saw him with Austin.
FREDERICK HENDERSON . I live at 18l., Queen's Road, Dalston—that is next door to 183—I was present in the other Court when Austin, otherwise G H. Poole, was tried—there were two Austins next door, and we did not know one from the other—I recognized the one at the Court as Poole, but I do not know which one took the house—the man I saw in the other Court was the man I recognized as Poole, and the same man who I had seen at 183—he first came there About December 22nd, 1868—no business was carried on there.
Cross-examined. Q. You do not know whether he carried on butineas as a builder elsewhere? A. No.
ROBERT BUSHNELL . I deal in corn, at 181, King's Cross Road—I supplied Daw with corn, for nine months, as a cab-proprietor, but he only kept one horse the former part of the time—he was then a cabinet-maker, and used to pay me ready money—I first gave him credit in January, 1868, and served him up to September, 1868—he bought very bad horses, which were worn out before he put them to work—from January to September 30th, he used to have about twelve quarters of corn a week, and a bill was due to me in September of 100l. 9s.—I spoke to him in reference to his Affairs—he said, What had I got to be afraid of, he owed me 100l. and had 800l. to pay it, and he should come in for 1400l. from an aunt, and was in a good position to pay me—he told me a short time previous to his composition deed that he only owed 300l. in the world, and if I would be quiet, he would pay me what he owed me, but the amount he owed to John Harris, he would never pay him—after that, Mr. Reid waited on me—the solicitor wished me to sign a deed for 900l.—I then saw Daw, and remonstrated with him, and asked him if he only owed 300l., how it was he sent in a composition for 800l.—three weeks, or perhaps only a fortnight, had elapsed since he said that he only owed 300l. in the world.
Cross-examined. Q. How did you know what the amount of the debts, was? A. I have a son, who has been five years with Mr. Musgrove, in Chancery Lane, and he went to Quality Court, and examined the deed—I am quite positive Daw said that he only owed 300l.—this was told me in Arthur's stable, a fortnight or throe weeks before the deed was sent out—I think we were by ourselves—I felt my position so, that I could not forget what he said—men were at work in the mews—the conversation was not in a whisper—I was a great sufferer, so I hood great reason to be anxious—I thought it might break my back—he owed me 100l. at that time—that was genuine debt—these receipts for 12l. and 8l. were given by me, here
is the account—I do not know that he got into difficulties on account of the death of his horses, because he received some money from a railway company, and if he had owed ma 300l. or 400l., he could have paid me—he swore at my wife, and spoke very impudently to her—he said he was in a position to pay roe, but did not offer to do so.
MR. BESLET. Q. When you spoke to him again about owing only 300l., you say he denied telling you it was only 300? A. He did not deny it; but he was dumb—he was struck—I was two years in business, struggling very hard against wind and tide to get a living.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose she shut the door in your face? A. No—I pronounced it Weid, distinctly—I got judgment for 31l. odd, and he was put in prison, that he might be compelled to pay the debt—I have not offered to withdraw from the prosecution—I know James Crew and George Sutton, a wheelwright—I do not know James Spring by name; I might know him if I saw him—I know the Prince Arthur, Caledonian Road.
Q. Did you meet Crew, Sutton, and Spring there, on 3rd April? A. do not know the date—I have met them there several times—I did out offer in their presence that if Daw would give me 10l. and respectable security for the balance, I would forego the prosecution—I said that he was a foolish man to make a false deed—if he had given me 10l. at once, and security, I would not have minded it going on; but I said nothing about withdrawing from the prosecution—I cannot say when that was—Daw was not then in Newgate, it was one day after a private meeting at the Bank-ruptcy Court—it was not an offer at all—I am not prepared to swear that he was not in prison at that time.
JAMES CHARLES AUSTIN . (re-examined). I produce the proceedings in Daw's bankruptcy—I find that he was a prisoner on 11th March—he there answers the questions put by the Registrar before adjudication, and swears that the total amount of his debts is under 436l. 11s. 3d.—I have got an account of the debts, with his affidavit of the truth of the debts he returns on 11th March—I have no G. H. Poole here, or Reid, or Weid.
Cross-examined. Q. When do you say he was in prison? A. He was arrested on 5th March, and filed his petition in formed pauperis on 11th March—he was in prison up to 6th April—he had made an application, but was refused.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Wednesday, July 14 th, 1869.
Before Lord Chief Justice Bovill.
MESSRS. DALY. and GRIFFITHS. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. SERJEANT.
SLEIGH. and MR. WARNER SLEIGH. the Defence.
FREDERICK JAMES MIDSON . I am the prisoner's nephew—he kept the Cheques public-house, at Alperton, Middlesex—I lived there with him and the deceased, his wife—on the 6th June they were at home all the morning—the
deceased was very irritable, quarrelling with the prisoner all the morning, from 9 o'clock up to about 12.25, when they went up stairs—he appeared in a good temper with her, begging of her to be quiet, and leave him alone—about 12.30 he said he was going up stairs to shave himself, and she said, "You can cut your throat if you like"—my uncle went up stairs first, and she followed him, and I followed her—when she got up stairs she commenced quarrelling again with him; she called him a grey-headed old b—and several other disgusting names—I did not observe that he lost his temper then, only he begged of her to leave him alone—I went down stairs shortly alter—I left the prisoner standing just inside the room door, and the deceased was just outside—the door was wide open—before I got to the bottom of the stairs I heard two reports of a pistol—I ran up stairs again directly, and saw Mrs. Midson lying on her face, apparently dead—she was just inside the room then—I saw a small portion of blood issuing from her—I went into the next room, and saw the prisoner lying on the floor, bleeding—I asked him what was the matter—he said, "I can't help it, she has drove me to it"—I then ran down stairs, and sent for a doctor and a policeman—when my uncle went up stairs to shave himself he was sober—he complained of having the headache in the morning, when he got up—he had been ill the night before.
Cross-examined. Q. Was she apparently the worse for liquor that morn-ing? A. Yes—he was usually a sober, well-conducted, kind-hearted man—I had lived with him about twenty years—I think he had been married about twenty-eight yean—her conduct towards him was aggravating and annoying—she said, "You may go and cut your b—throat"—the revolver was kept on the drawers, loaded, for the protection of the house—the door between the room in which she was found lying dead and the other room where the prisoner was, is always kept open—it is never closed—when the deceased was abusing the prisoner that morning, he complained of feeling very unwell, and had a bad pain in his head—he came down about 9 o'clock—from 9 o'clock till he said he was going up to shave she was continuing this annoying and aggravating conduct towards him—he was begging of her to be quiet and let him alone.
JOHN SYMONS . I am potman to the prisoner, and have been so about nine or ten weeks—on Sunday, 6th June, I was in the house; I noticed quarrelling going on between the prisoner and the deceased—I heard the mistress complaining to the master from about 9 o'clock—I don't know what the said; I was busy—she continued complaining to him till about 12 o'clock, when I had to go away to the chapel—she was very cross with him—I did not hear what she said—I afterwards went up to the bed room, and saw my mistress living on her face—I did not hear any shots—I touched her, and asked if she was dead, or if she could speak; I got no answer—I then went for the doctor—I saw the prisoner after I came back, after the doctor came; he was in the further room, the doctor was leading him to the bed.
Cross-examined. Q. I am afraid the deceased used to indulge in liquor a good deal? A. Yes, a great deal—he was a sober, kind-hearted, well conducted man.
WALTER FROST . (Policeman. X 254). About 1 o'clock on the afternoon of 6th June, from information, I went to the Chequers public-house—I went up stairs, and found the deceased lying on the floor, in a room at the top of the stairs, quite dead, and bleeding from the head—I went into the next room, and there found the prisoner, lying with his face downwards, about
six or seven yards from his wife; under him was this revolver (produced)—I picked it up; there appear to be seven chambers to it; I did not examine it, the sergeant did afterwards—I spoke to the prisoner, and said, "Well, Midson"—he said, "Oh. Frost! I have done it, I have done it! I run sorry for it, but she drove me to it!"—he repeated those words twice—the doctor came, and with his aid I put the prisoner on the bed—I was present when a bullet was found on the floor—the sergeant has it.
Cross-examined. Q. When you found the prisoner lying there, he was bleeding, was he not? A. Yes—he appeared to be in a very excited and agitated state—the two were lying not further from each other than I am from you, in a straight line—the prisoner's house is on my beat; I have known him about fourteen months—he always appeared a sober, steady, well-conducted man, kind-hearted and humane.
A great number of witnesses deposed to the prisoner's character for kindness and humanity.
GUILTY. of manslaughter committed under excessive provocation. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, on account of the provocation, and his uniform good conduct to his wife. — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. LILLEY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS.
JOSEPH SMITH , Jun. I am the son of the prisoner, and lived with him and my mother, Sarah Smith—on Saturday night, 19th June, we were at home—my father and mother had both of them had a drop to drink—they were tipsy—there was a quarrel between then—I saw my father give mother a slap on the side of the head with his hand first—he then hit her on the back with a machine-stick—this is the stick (produced)—my father is a chimney-sweep, and this is one of the rods of the machine—I afterwards saw him lift his foot—I did not sec him kick her—my mother was always a worreting him every time he came in doors—she was worreting him this evening—I did not sec her doing anything else to him—after he lifted his foot I went into the next room, Mr. Williams' room—I went on an errand for him—I returned in about twenty minutes—I then saw my mother up against the window, sitting on the floor, and I saw blood on the floor, two or three drops—I forget where my father was at that time—he was there—I did not say anything to him, or he to me—I did not hear him say anything to mother—I heard her say to him, "Oh, you have done it for me now"—my father said something, but I really forget the words used—he then went down stairs—I went out afterwards—Mrs. Kelly and Mrs. Fox came into the room.
Cross-examined. Q. Your father was always very kind to your mother, was he not? A. Yes—she was very drunk that night, and that was not the first time by a great many—I saw her fall down stairs; she fell from the top to the bottom—father did not strike her then—she went up stairs after that—I went for the doctor—father did not send me, Mrs. Kelly did—mother had been drinking all that day—this happened about 7.30 or 7.45 at night—when she fell down stairs, father went and helped to get her upstairs.
MR. LILLEY. Q. How long was that before you went on the errand for Mr. Williams? A. About twenty minutes—I think it was after she returned to the room with my father that I saw him strike her with the machine stick; no, before that, before she fell down stairs.
CATHERINE KELLY . I am the wife of John Kelly, and lire at No. 2, Street's Buildings, right facing the window of the prisoner's room—on Saturday night, about 8 o'clock, I met the prisoner on his own door-step—he begged me to go up stairs and see his wife—he was drunk at the time—I went up immediately, and found her sitting down on the floor under the window—she had blood all over her, and I saw it come from her nostrils—I went and got some cold water and flannel, and wiped it up—there was blood on the floor, a reasonable share—while I was attending to her, Mrs. Fox came in—I sent for Dr. Bloxam—he came directly and examined her—she was put into a cab and taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. Q. When the prisoner came down, did he say to you, "For God's sake, go up and see the misuse?"A. Yes—I asked her what was the matter, and she said, "I fell down the stairs; I am a dead woman"—those were the last words she spoke—the blood I saw was pouring from her nostrils.
MARY ANN MOUNTJOY . I am the wife of Thomas Mount joy, and live in the same house with the prisoner—on Saturday evening, 19th June, I heard him and his wife quarrelling—I heard high words; I heard the voices of both—I did not hear what they said, as I was shut in my own room; but soon afterwards I heard Mrs. Smith fall down stairs, just against my door—I did not hear anything besides words of altercation—I heard the prisoner ask her to get up after she had fallen down the stairs—she said, "I can't," and that was the reason of me opening my door—I went out and picked her up, and took her inside my room—I kept her there five or ten minutes—during that time, George Woodcut, a fishmonger, came, and she left my room to speak to him—after that she returned to her own room, at least she left my room, and turned to go up stairs—my room is on the ground floor, just at the foot of the stairs—I still heard them talking loud up stairs—I think it was quarrelling between Mr. and Mrs. Smith—I went in and shut my door—I was afterwards called up by one of the neighbours, and found the deceased sitting on the floor, with her back towards the window, resting against the wall—that was about a quarter of an hour after I had assisted her up at the foot of the stairs, or not quite so long—she was not sensible then—she never spoke after I went into her room—when she was down in my room she could say very little—she was holding her hand to her side, and said she had hurt her side—I did not see any blood on her then—when I saw her up stairs I saw blood on the floor, in two or three different places, and there was some on her clothes.
FREDERICK JORDAN . I am landlord of the Three Compasses, in Mount Street, Grosvenor Square—on Saturday evening, 19th June, I saw the prisoner at my house, about 8.30 or 8.45—he had blood on his nose, and was drunk—he asked for a half-quartern of brandy, in a hurry—I asked him what was the matter with him, if he had had a row again—he said, "Yes;" and he said, "I am afraid I have settled my old woman this time"—I am not sure whether he said, "I have settled my old woman," or, "I think my old woman is settled"—I supplied him with the brandy, and he took it away with bun—I supposed it was for his wife—he said it was for his old woman.
Cross-examined. Q. Was not this what he said, "I am afraid my old woman is settled this time?"A. I could not swear, I took so little notice—I could not swear which way it was.
GEORGE STEAD . (Police Sergeant C). On Saturday night, the 19th, about 11 o'clock, in consequence of information, I went to 1, Street's Buildings, Mount Street, and then to the workhouse in Mount Street, where I saw the body of the deceased—she was dead—I then went to the prisoner's house—I found him lying down in his room on the floor, apparently asleep—I aroused him—he appeared quite drunk—I told him his wife was dead, and I should charge him with causing her death—he said, "You don't mean it! my poor wife! my poor wife! dead"—I then took him in custody—I found this stick in the room, lying on the bed, by the side of him—I saw pools of blood on the floor—there was a tub in the room, which had a little bloody water in it, which had contained bloody water—there were a few drops remaining—I took the prisoner to the Marl borough Street station, and told him he was charged with causing the death of his wife—I cautioned him as to his reply—he then said, "I can't make out how I caused her death, I never ill-used her, but I suppose I must go through it; I wish I was dead, the same as my poor wife"—he was not sober then, but he had recovered.
WILLIAM BLOXAM., M. D .—I am in practice at 21, Mount Street, Grosvenor Square—on Saturday night, 19th June, I received information, and went to Street's Buildings, where I saw the deceased lying on the floor, on her back, her head supported by a neighbour—she was insensible—her clothing was saturated with blood, and her body covered with blood and excrement—there were pools of blood upon the floor, in several places—I did not tike accurate notice of the number of stairs that I ascended in order to get to the prisoner's room—I have not been there since, but I should think there might have been some two dozen steps to the staircase—it was almost vertical, a remarkably steep stair-case, highly dangerous—the top was about fourteen feet or sixteen feet, perhaps, from the ground, but I could not speak positively—I desired her to be sent to the infirmary—I made a partial examination of her first—I discovered tin immense loss of blood, and supposed she had been wounded somewhere, but I did not discover any wound at that time—she was washed at the infirmary—I then found a lacerated and con used wound oh the left side of the external genital organ—the cavity of the wound would easily have contained a hen's egg—I proceeded to dress the wound in the usual manner, and she died during my attendance upon her—stimulants and nourishment were given to her whilst I was attending to her—the prisoner was in the room at the time I saw her at the house—I inquired if she had been drinking—he replied, "She is not drunk"—he was drunk—in my judgment the wound was certainly not the result of the fall clown stairs—I afterwards made a post-mortem examination—I found the body almost entirely drained of blood, the wound I have described, a severe bruise on the left temple, lacerating the temporal muscle, blood in the left nostril, the upper lip bruised and cut, several bruises on both fore-arms, some bruises on the scalp, a very severe bruise on the left lower rib, and slighter bruises on the arms, legs, and thighs—the vagina was, as it were, dissected from the surrounding tissues on the left side—in my judgment, that wound was inflicted by a kick, or thrust with some blunt instrument—this stick would be calculated to cause such a wound—there is no mark of blood on it that I can see—the immediate cause of death was hemorrhage.
Cross-examined. Q. Were her lungs diseased? A. Yes—she was also suffering from what is called Bright's disease of the kidneys—that is a disorder which is rarely recovered from—the bruise on the temple was a severe one, lacerating the left temporal muscle—the skin was not lacerated, but the muscle was beneath it—the muscular structure was soft in that woman—the lungs smelt of drink—she had every appearance of a person who drank hard—I did not see this stick on the premises, I saw it at the Police Court, in the possession of the police.
COURT. Q. Was there any internal injury besides what you hare mentioned? A. None.
NOT GUILTY .
There was another indictment against the prisoner for an assault, upon which no evidence was offered.
MR. STRAIGHT. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WARNER SLEIGH.
GUILTY. of the attempt. — Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GRIFFITHS. conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN DAWSON . I am a widow, and live at 3, Richmond Place, Merritt's Yard, Uxbridge—the deceased was my nephew—he was thirteen years old—he worked as errand-boy, for Mr. Barnes, a fishmonger, at Ux-bridge—on the 7th July, about 7.45; I was sent for, to my home—I was at Mrs. Curley's—I saw the little boy in his bed—he was capable of speaking to me, and that was all—ho died at 8.45.
HENRY PARR . I live at 6, Richmond Place, Merritt's Yard, Uxbridge—about 7 o'clock, on 7th July, I was outside Mr. Barnes shop—I knew the little boy Parr—I saw him pick a claw from a lobster, or crab—the prisoner told him not to mess the fish about—Parr went up to Jochem, and hit him hard—Parr was then going out of the shop—Jochem picked up a knife, and threw it at him, as he was going out of the door—I went round the shop, and found the knife lying on the pavement, with blood on it.
Prisoner. The knife laid about a half yard in the shop; when they pulled the knife out of him it lay in the shop. Witness. I did not see the knife fall out of him—it was just outside the door when I saw it—it was on the edge of the counter before he threw it—the deceased was a little taller than the prisoner.
WILLIAM WRIGHT . I live with Mr. Barnes—I was outside the shop, and I saw the deceased pull a claw off a fish—I then saw him hit the prisoner—the prisoner ran and picked up the knife—I did not see him throw it—I saw it fall from the deceased's body, from his left side.
THOMAS JAMES , M. R. C. S. I reside at Uxbridge—between 7 and 8 o'clock, on the 7th July, I was called to sec the deceased boy—he was excessively faint from loss of blood—I found a wound just over the left hip bone—I ordered his clothes to be taken off, and stimulants applied—he died within an hour, of internal hemorrhage.
COURT. to WILLIAM WRIGHT. Q. Were these boys good friends? A. Yes, they were very fond of each other.
The prisoner received a good character. GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy very strongly by the Jury — Seven Days' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Wednesday, July 14th 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. F. H. LEWIS. conducted the Prosecution; and MB, WOOD. the Defence.
HENRY HUSSEY . I am a clerk in the Common Pleas Rule Office—I produce an affidavit purporting to be sworn on 21st May, before Mr. Parkinson, and to have been re-sworn before Mr. Henry Brown—I produce an order for a capias signed by Mr. Baron Cleasby, and the writ of summons.
HENRY HUSSEY . I am clerk to Mr. Baron Cleasby—I swore the deponent to this affidavit—I administered the usual oath—I read over the paper to him in the usual way, and he seemed perfectly to understand it—the prisoner is the man who swore it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you have any conversation with the parties at the time of swearing it? A. There was a conversation about the debt being due, 140l.—a gentleman, who I took for his solicitor, was with the prisoner.
LOUIS LAVITT . In 1866, and part of 1867, I was managing clerk to Mr. Cooper, a solicitor, of Lincoln's Inn Fields—there was at that time a matter in his office of "McGrady v. McCullum"—I produce the record in that action—it was an action on an indenture of July, 1857—I also produce the Judge's order to inspect this indenture—as far as I believe, this is the indenture I inspected, and upon which I instituted the proceedings comprised in this record—the action was not tried, it was entered for trial in Hilary Term, 1867, and a proposition was mode to settle it—this (produced) is a release signed by McGrady, and witnessed by Mr. Cooper and Mr. Brandon's clerk, the solicitor prosecuting the case—I had several interviews with McGrady, and told him we were about settling the offer made by Mr. Brandon—I said, "You offered 150l. in full discharge of any claim that he had then, or might have?"—he would not then come to any arrangment, but said he would leave and consult his wife—he came back and said that he ought to have a little more, and two days afterwards he agreed to take 100l.—his full claim was 1881.—at that time a commission was pending in Bordeaux—the prisoner's son was at Poonah, in India—the prisoner agreed to accept that money, and he signed the release—I read it over to him, and explained that he would have no claim upon any future action against Mr. McCullum—I was compelled to be very particular with him, because he cannot read—it was read over several times to him—I met him twice, the first time was in May, three or four days previous to swearing the affidavit—it was in May, I cannot fix the date—I said, "McGrady, I understand you are going on with McCullum again"—he said, "Yes, I mean to have 140l. out of him"—I said, "You had better be very careful, you know you have signed a release, and you know you have no claim on Mr. McCullum"—he said, "Never mind, I am told that I have, and I shall make the affidavit"—with that he weat with the affidavit into a public-house—that
was the second time—the first time was four or five days before—he was then with a man named Williamson, who had been in my master's office at the time of Grady and McCullum.
Cross-examined. Q. Was the release signed in Williamson's presence? A. Certainly not, nor was it read over to him in Williamson's presence—I have never sworn that it was, but Williamson knew of it—the only persons present when the release was signed were Mr. Cooper, Mr. Brandon's clerk, and the prisoner, and myself—4l. per month was due on this indenture, and the action was brought on 17th July, 1866, for 188l.—the record was lodged for trial in Hilary Term, 1867, but it went over and a commission was appointed—I do not produce any documents from McCullum in relation to the action, I had not seen him for years—his attorneys, Messrs. Brandon, would have the documents—Williamson was occasionally em-ployed in our office to serve writs, he was never a clerk there—I did not swear at Bow Street that he was a clerk—I know that he was charged with perjury as a clerk to Mr. Cooper, and I was a witness on his behalf—you were the prosecuting counsel, and you made a mistake—we prosecuted another clerk in our office, who has been sentenced to penal servitude—I was afterwards instructed by Mr. Cooper to issue a writ against one of the witnesses in the case, for conspiring maliciously to prosecute, and I did so—I was never a clown at a theatre—I have been employed at nearly all the theatres in London as harlequin—after that I went to an attorney, Mr. Newton Charles Wright—Mr. Levy was the last attorney I was with before I went to Mr. Cooper—I have been six yean with Mr. Cooper, on and off—I had a brother named Edward Lewis—I did not personate him at the Bankruptcy Court—he is twice the size of me—I never signed his name there.
MR. LEWIS. Q. Look at this affidavit, does that bear the signature of Hugh McGrady? A. Yes, it was used for the purpose of obtaining the capias against McCullum in 1866; it was read over to him.
MR. WOOD. Q. Do you swear that that is Hugh McGrady's writing? A. I swear that it was pencilled, and he wrote over it—I have some of his I O U's, where he prints—this at the bottom is Williamson's writing, to the best of my belief—I have had opportunities of knowing it.
SAMUEL NICHOLAS COOPER . I am on attorney—this release was left in the hands of Mr. Lavitt, and I told the prisoner that the defendant had obtained an order from Bombay—(MR. WOOD. objected to this evidence, as matter between attorney and client, and it was not proceeded witk.)
Cross-examined. Q. Was Williamson present when that deed was read. overt? A. He was in the street, I do not think he was present—I mean that he was waiting about, thinking to get some money out of this man—that was not by my directions—I know that he was in the street, by seeing him there after I had given the cheque for McGrady's 100l.—I feel confident that he was in the street when it was read over—I am not prepared to swear whether he was present at the reading—I presume I gave McCullum a receipt for his 150l.—I have never taxed costs, because it was settled before trial, the proceedings were stayed in consequence of an order for a commission to India—T do not know how many applications I had against me in Judges' Chambers at the time, for the return of money belonging to
my client's, unlawfully detained—I brought an action for Duffey, and paid over to him all that I received—I was not summoned for the return of some money, but to deliver my bill of costs—I never had execution put into my house, and I have been admitted thirty years—I was once brought before Mr. Selfe, at Westminster Police Court, for knocking at the wrong door one afternoon; I mistook it for a friend's house—I was fined 6s. 8d. or 13s. 4d.—I offered 10s. to the poor-box, but the Magistrate said that the Queen should not he deprived of it.
THOMAS McCULLUM . I am joint proprietor with William Charman, of the Ampitheatre, Holborn—I live there—I executed this indenture in 1857—an action was brought against me in 1866—I was not going to leave the country at that time—I was arrested at the suit of the prisoner—the action went on for some time, and was settled by me on a release—the prisoner's son is in India—he was an apprentice under this indenture, at the time of the first arrest—I was not about to leave the country in May, this year—I had not sub-let the Amphitheatre, in Holborn, or entered into or contemplated any engagement to take me out of this country—the lease of the place in Holborn is for fifty-four years—I never saw Williamson till I was at Bow Street—I am married, and my wife and child live with me at the circus—there is not a word of truth in the statement that I was going to leave the country—I went on the continent in 1866 to engage artists for the amphitheatre—that was my only journey from England—I did not intend to leave England permanently.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you open this place as an amphitheatre? A. Yes—I ceased to use it for that purpose in April last, and arranged it for promenade concerts—I discharged the circus company—I had probably sixty men in my employ, who went into other party—I opened the place as a concert room on 15th May, and engaged with a company of musicians—I took no one else into partnership; it was carried on by Mr. Chandler and myself—I did not go away from town to engage artists for the concerts—I did not suggest going anywhere—the prisoner's boy was articled to me for ten yean, from August, 1857—I have given him money—I never paid the father anything—the boy was in the charge of Peter Rainbow, a bill inspector, at the time I left India, learning equestrianism for my benefit—I was arrested—the action with Cooper was compromised by my solicitor, Mr. Brandon—McGrady came to me to ask for the possession of his son—he did not threaten proceedings because I did not return him—I ordered him from my premises—Buck asked me where the indenture was, and I told him it was in the hands of my solicitor—I do not know that the prisoner was very anxious to have his son back—the capias on which I was taken was issued in a second action—I do not know who the attorney was, I know nothing except that I was arrested coming out of the amphitheatre on Saturday—I think two pieces of parchment were shown to me when the officer came, one was a capias, I do not know what the other was.
MR. LEWIS. Q. When did the boy go to India? A. In 1860—the father asked me, when I returned from India, where his son was—he made a further claim for his son, after the action was settled—from 1867, to May, 1869, he made no claim for 4l. per month, or for any sum from me.
Witness for the Defence net.
Cooper—I was the only man who managed matters for him, at one time, previous to Lavitt's coming—I was not paid wages, he allowed me a com-mission out of the debts or damages that were recovered—I left him when he removed from Symond's Inn to Lincoln's Inn Fields, and went to Mr. Atkinson, who died, and then I went back to Mr. Cooper—I finally left him about 17th May, 1867—I made an affidavit in a suit in which Mr. Cooper was attorney—I knew of the action pending against McCullum—I was the person who McGrady came to, in the first instance, five or six years ago—I know nothing whatever about the release—I was not present at the signing of it, and never saw it—I know about the subsequent action, McGrady came to me about the beginning of May, and mentioned to me about McCullum's matter—I asked him how he had settled the affair—he said that he took 100l. in settlement of 188l., and there was so much more money coming to him as he considered that McCullum was entitled to pay him, as long as he kept his boy away—he went to a Magistrate to inquire whether he could not compel him to produce his son, and Buck was sent to inquire about it—I said, "He is entitled to pay you so much a month till he surrenders your boy"—he said, "I wish you could get someone to undertake the case for me," and I went to Mr. Nash—the prisoner told me he had taken the 100l. as a settlement for the 188l.—I asked him what he signed—he said, "I signed a paper, and made them read it over, in the presence of Gibbar?"—he is Mr. Cooper's clerk, who is with him now, I saw him going into Mr. Cooper's office a day or two ago—McGrady said that all he was signing for was a settlement of the 188l. that he offered him first 40l., then 50l., then 70l., and then 100l.—I said, "Are you sure it was read over to Gibbar?"—he said, "I am sure "—I had contorted him before I left the office in 1867, and said, "Take care you are not served out"—that was before this settlement took place—I reckoned it up, and said, "There will be 140l. coming to you, under this agreement"—I said that because McCullum had not surrendered the boy, he had taken him to India, and therefore I considered he was entitled to it—I gave him that advice about the begining of May, this year—I advised him what ceurse to take, and mentioned it to Mr. Nash, who said it was a very good case, and he would take it up—I believed he was going to leave the country, as the troupe was going to St. Petersburgh—he gave Mr. Nash the copy of the agreement—I had nothing to do with drawing the affidavits—McGrady told me he had taken 100l. in satisfaction of the 188l., and I believe the man never signed any release—I should positively say that the signature to this release is not McGrady's writing—I know he cannot write, he can only make a kind of printing.
COURT. Q. Suppose it was pencilled first, do you say he could not trace over the pencil? A. I should say not—I never saw him do anything like the first affidavit, he always made a mark.
MR. WOOD. Q. Do you believe he can write like that? A. do not—this document (another) came from the prison direct to his wife, who brought it to me, the top writing is one of the officers of the prison—this is the only style of writing I ever saw the prisoner do—I have seen him try to print, and said, "It is a pity you do not try to write, McGrady"—he said, "I can do a little printing"—Duffy and his wife are here.
Cross-examined by MR. LEWIS. Q. You are a commission agent, where are your offices? A. I have none—I carry on my business at various places—I have got a public-house to carry it on at—I do not mean that I am a publican—I do commission business at several public-houses—one is 23,
Veer Street—I pay no rent for the use of the room—there are several public-houses where I meet my various customers, and I have apartments over the water on the first floor back—my customers call there and make appointments, but have not done so lately—I pay 4s. a week for the room—I have only a bed room there—I did business in Vern Street yesterday—I have plenty of books over the water—I kept a kind of diary, but not in an extensive way—I have no banker's book—I knew that McGrady had signed a paper, on his statement—he came after me to this very house in Vere Street, the Crown—I was going to do this transaction on cominission—he paid me nothing for the last affair—my commission was to be 5s. per cent, on whatever he recovered—I told Nash that a paper had been signed in reference to the first action—I do not know of my own knowledge what that paper was, but I believed McGrady—I explained to him that he was entitled to bring a fresh action under the agreement between him and McCullum—he showed me a copy of it—it was filed in the Common Pleas Office—I saw by the indenture that it expired in 1867—I told him that he had a right of action upon it after it expired, and I think so—I consider that all the time McCullum kept his boy away from him he was to pay him 4l. a month—I think the affidavit was drawn up at the Mitre Tavern, which is convenient to the Law Courts, and a number of respectable solicitors go there—I will not swear it was drawn up in a public-house—I had nothing to do with drawing it out.
Mr. WOOD. Q. At any rate you have served processes for Mr. Cooper? A. Yes, and made his briefs, and conducted cases from beginning to end—I was bound over by the prosecution to attend this trial.
MR. LEWIS. to THOMAS McCULLUM. Q. When was the application made to you to know where the son was? A. It might be four or five days, perhaps ten, after the signing of the release.
Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury, believing him to be very ill advised.— Eight Months' Imprisonment.
MR. RIBTON. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY. the Defence.
GEORGE CONWAY . I am a savior, of 36, Storey Street, Caledonian Road—I became acquainted with the prisoner at a loan office, in Seven Dials, fifteen or sixteen months ago, and in April. 1868, he applied to me for a loan—I lent him 100l., and he was to give me 30l. for the loan of it—I obtained from him a mortgage of the house, and a bill of sale for the plant on the premises—I afterwards lent him 30l. for alterations to the place—I did not know that the house was afterwards sold, as Mr. Rowe persuaded me not to speak to Mr. Reeves—I was obliged to bring an action of adjustment against him; but it was some time before that that the transfer to Reeves took place—(An agreement, dated September, 1868, was here put in, by which George Conway let to Frederick Reeves, for five years, the ground floor, at 314, Gray's Inn Road, at 156l. per annum. On the back of it was a memorandum, signed by both parties, that the rent was reduced to 104l. per annum, to be paid at the rate of 2l. per week)—The things in this agreement were the same that were originally in the bill of sale—I know nothing of the removal of this horse.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe you first knew Rowe at the end of 1867? A. I cannot say the date now—the first transaction was not the loan of
the 100l.—I knew him before that—I do Dot know what a bill of exchange is—(A bill, dated November 20th, 1867, for 130l., on demand, wot here put in)—Rowe had the money from me to lay out on the shop, but he did not do so—on 9th April I knew of his borrowing 300l. from the National Loan Office—James and Young, who had signed the bill of exchange, joined with me in security in a bond—I was present at the settlement of the loan—Mr. Turnbull brought the money in and shared it—under this bill of sale I acquired a right to the lease of this man's house; that was of some value—I did not also get the whole of his furniture, it was taken away from him—I got all that he had on the premises.
Q. Here is "one horse van, and harness complete," is that what you meant by a horse? A. They told me it was a horse and harness—at the time I got this security 160l. was owing to me.
Q. About that time did you know that the bill of sale was invalid, in consequence of alterations after execution? A. I knew it was invalid; I oould not tell the reason—at that time I knew Reeves as servant to the defendant at 21l. a week—he had been acting as his servant at this place—I do not know of a proposed partnership between Reeves and the defendant—Rowe wanted me to come in as a partner, but I refused—Rowe sent Reeves with a note, one evening, for me to come down; I did so, and when he got to the office he wanted me to become a partner—I knew that the arrangement of 21st September was for Rowe to have the use of the vans and hones—I lent him 20l., that he should not have the handling of the money out of the till before I was paid—after that the furniture was swept off by the execution creditors—on 20th January, 1869, it was quite time that I commenced proceedings in adjustment to turn Mr. Rowe out of the place—I rested my claim on the mortgage deed—I was present at the trial of the adjustment—I believe it was on 24th May—on that occasion I knew that the bill of sale was questioned by Mr. Justice Hannen—I believe the Judge would hear nothing at all about it—on 29th May, I went down to take possession of the premises—I knew of letters passing between the solicitors—I told Mr. Rowe, outside his own door, that I would give him 15l.—I knew that he moved away some few articles of furniture on the morning of 29th May—I did not know that the horse was removed at the same time, but I knew it at 9 o'clock in the morning—I did not give Mr. Vince in custody; he gave himself up to the detectives, and said that he would buy back the horse—I do not know that the horse was used by Mr. Vince for a week or a fortnight in a cab—the charge was dismissed—my solicitor appeared against him—after the charge of stealing the horse was disposed of, Mr. Reeves made a charge against this man of stealing McDougal's van—that was part of the hiring—up to 29th May Mr. Howe's name was on the facia of these premises; it is up at the top now—his name is on the vans, and mine too.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Here is, in the inventory, "One dark horse, one bay horse, one chaffcutting machine, &c.;" which of these horses was it that was taken away? A. The brown horse; I saw it taken round to the stable the night before 29th May.
FREDERICK REEVRS . I am a railway carrier's agent, of 11, Jackson Street, Kentish Town—I signed this agreement, and became the tenant of these premises—I saw this horse on the evening of 28th May—I had been using him ever since 28th September, when I had the premises—my roan missed him on one 29th—the halter round his neck was also removed.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you there at a small salary at first? A. Yes; the prisoner paid me 1l. a week—I have not brought the books here, I have had notice, but they belong to the railway company—Rowe continued there up to 28th May; his wife and children were living there—I paid him 2l. a week, 104l. a year—that arrangement was made some time in November for my part of the premises; Mr. Mill occupied another part—this agree-ment for a partnership was copied by me, I signed my name at the bottom; Conway put his cross, and Rowe signed it—I think that was previous to taking the premises.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Were you in Rowe's employ at first, while he was managing and conducting the business? A. Yes—on 28th September he ceased to have anything to do with the business, and I carried it on under the agreement—he resided on the premises, in one room, at the back—he did not interfere in the management of the business—I paid, under that agreement, 2l. a week; it was 3l. at the commencement, and for eight or nine weeks, and then it was reduced to 2l.—I was paying him on the 29th May, when the horse was taken.
WILLIAM HENRY WHITE . I live at Phœnix Street, Soho, and have been carman to Mr. Reeve since last September, at 1l. a week—I was Rowe's servant before that—I know nothing about their private affairs—Reeve has paid me all along—on 28th May, at a little after 8 o'clock, the horse was safe in the stable—on the 29th the horse was gone, the door had been fastened with a short piece of chain, and padlocked, but the staple was drawn.
(Cross-examined. Q. Was Mr. Rowe's name up? A. Yes, and on the vans—he discontinued coming there about November or December.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Who was paying your wages on the day the horse was taken? A. Reeve.
ROBERT CARTKR . (Policeman E 117). On Saturday night, 5th June, from information, I went to Caroline Street, and saw Rowe and Vince—I told Rowe I should charge him with breaking into a stable, at King's Cross, and stealing a horse—he said, "I have not stolen any horse, it was my own; I could put my hand upon it at any moment, but I will not tell you where it is"—I took him to the station.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Vincc taken in custody? A. Yes, afterwards—no one gave him in custody—Mr. Conway afterwards appeared against him at the Police Court—the charge against the prisoner of stealing McDougal's van was not gone into, as Mr. Reeve would not prosecute.
MR. RIBTON. to F. REEVES. Q. Was a horse shown to you by Chamberlain? A. Yes—that was the horse which was taken out of the stable.
MR. BESLKY. Q. Was there a horse there in July which was changed away for this one? A. The horse that was taken from my stable was the one that was exchanged away—I do not know when the bill of sale was made—I do not know when the horse was changed—I have not the slightest idea whether this horse was there in April.
MR. RIBTON. Q. Was it the horse named in this agreement? A. Yes.
The Court considered that a case of larceny could not be made out.—
NOT GUILTY .
646. SAMUEL GREENWAY FINNEY (65) , PLEADED GUILTY . to un-lawfully appropriating to his own use 6651. 13s. 4d., and other moneys, the property of the English Joint Stock Bank — Twelve Months' Imprisonment. And
647. JAMES LEE (33) , to stealing a shirt, a jacket, and other articles, of Frederick Stephens, in a dock, after a previous conviction in May, 1868**— Seven Years' Penal Servitude. [Pleaded guilty: See original trial image.]
THIRD COURT.—Wednesday, July 14th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
There was another indictment against the prisoner for obtaining money by false pretence— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BRINDLEY. conducted the Prosecution.
MORRIS GOLDSMITH . I live at 32, Chapel Street, Spitalfields—I keep a stall in Petticoat Lane—on Sunday, 13th June, these two caps (produced) were on the stall—they are my property—the value is 2s., 8d. the two—I saw them safe between 11 and 12—I saw the prisoner that day, round the stall—I missed the caps about 12 o'clock, in consequence of what someone told me—I saw them again at the station, the same day—Cannon and John Carrie were then in custody—there were five of them near the stall—the three prisoners were amongst the others.
JOHN DAVIS . (City Policeman 921). On Sunday morning, 13th June, I was in Petticoat Lane, about 10.45—I saw the three prisoners there, with two others—I watched them for about half-an-hour before they went up to the stall—I saw them all round the stall, hustling each other—I saw Cannon put out his hand, take a hat, put it under his coat, and walk away—he went round the stall, and met John Currie, at the back of the man who was selling the caps—Cannon took one hat from under his coat and passed it to John Currie—I followed them up the lane, about twenty yards, and met my inspector—he took Camion, and I took John Currie—I searched Cannon at the station, and found another hat on him—one was found on John Currie—as we were taking them to the station Henry Currie met us—he caught hold of my arm and tried to pull his brother away—I apprehended him at Guildhall, on the Monday morning—he was hustling the other men round the stall, to draw the man's attention.
Cannon's Defence. I am innocent of the case.
John Currie's Defence. I am innocent.
Henry Currie's Defence. I had nothing to do with this case; when I went down to Guildhall the constable said he would make a charge out of it somehow—I went to the station on Monday, when the prisoners were brought out, and why did not they charge me then?
CANNON— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted in January, 1868, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
JOHN CURRIE— GUILTY . *— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
HENRY CURRIE— GUILTY . **— Seven years' Penal Servitude.
MR. A. B. KELLY. conducted the Prosecution.
FRANCIS WILLIAM KNIBB . I live at Great Percy Street, Clerkenwell—on 30th June, I was in Fleet Street, about 1.30 in the afternoon—I felt someone touch me—I put my hand to my pocket, and missed my handkerchief—I looked round, and picked out the prisoner as the man who I thought had taken it—I followed him down Poppin's Court, and asked him for my handkerchief—he said he had not got it—I then put my hand in his cott pocket, and then in his trousers pocket, and took the handkerchief out of his trousers pocket—he asked me to let him go, and I refused—I took him to the station, and gave him into custody.
Prisoner. Q. Did not you come up with the handkerchief in your hand? A. No, I took it out of your pocket—you made no objection about going to the station.
EDWARD PAGE . (City Policeman 446). The prosecutor gave the prisoner into custody at the station, about 1.30—the charge was read over to him, and he said he should not have done it only he was hard up—on the way to the Police Court, the following day, he said, "I shall plead guilty, I shall be sure to get seven years for this."
Prisoner's Defence. I am charged here with a crime I am innocent of.
He was further charged with having been before convicted, in May, 1863, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BULLEY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS.
JOHN MANTON . (Policeman X 195). About 3.50, on the morning of 22nd June, I was in Lad brooke Grove Road, Notting Hill—I saw the prisoner, with a man not in custody, come out of the area, of 5, Beresford Terrace—they walked up the area steps, and got over the railings into the garden—they ran up the road—I pursued them about half a mile—I did not lose sight of either of them—I overtook them, and told the prisoner I was a police-officer, and should take him into custody for being in the area of No. 5, Beresford Terrace, for an unlawful purpose—he called up the other man, and said, "We will soon settle this b—Charley"—they got me down on a burning ballast heap, and held me by the throat—the prisoner kicked me—they held me about a quarter of an hour—I got out my rattle to spring it, and dealt the prisoner two blows on the head, and made his head bleed—the other man then ran away—I got assistance, and took the prisoner to the station, and went to No. 5, Beresford Terrace, with the inspector—I saw foot-marks on the window-sill of the dining-room, and on the railing, where they got across—the dining-room win-dow was shut down, but not latched—we could not make anyone in the house hear, and went down into the area—the area door was unfastened—we went into the hall, and rang a bell there, but could not make anyone hear—we then went to the top of the house, and knocked the two servants up—they came down stairs—I went into the dining-room, and saw foot-marks all over the carpet close to the window, from the window to the
sideboard—I found this cruet-stand and six cruets in it, and the top of a pepper-box, this mustard-pot, and table-cover, on the floor under the win-dow—the bottom of the window is about a foot and a half from the floor—a person could easily enter through the window—they got from the front steps on to the railings, and from there on to the ledge of the window.
Cross-examined. Q. You never lost sight of them for half a mile? A. No—it was 3.50 in the morning—before he said anything about settling me, I had hold of him, pretty tight hold of him—I did not handle him roughly; I had him by his coat collar—he forced me on the ballast heap, and was then on the top of me—I have not taken the other man—I know him well—I have not seen him since.
LOVELACE SWATMAN . (Policeman X 601). On the morning of 22nd June, I received information from Manton, and went to the spot where the scuffle took place between the prisoner and Manton—I found a spoon and the top of a pepper-box there.
MARY ALEXANDER . I am servant to Mr. Henry Bonner, 5, Beresford Terrace, Netting Hill—on the night of 21st June, I fastened up the house—the dining-room window was closed about 8 o'clock—this cruet-stand, silver spoon, table-cover, and other articles are my master's property—they were safe the night before the robbery—the cruet-stand stood on the side-board—the other things were in the sideboard.
Cross-examined. Q. You shut the window down at 8 o'clock. A. Yes—I did out go to bed at 8 o'clock—there were other persons in the house besides me—I know nothing about the window after 8 o'clock.
MARY ANN BEE . On 21st June I was cook to Mr. Bonner—I fastened up the house, down stairs, about 8.30—I looked the area door and the area gate—I was awoke by the police the next morning about 5 o'clock—the area door was then open.
Cross-examined. Q. What time did you go to bed? A. About 10 o'clock—I knew nothing about the robbery till I was called in the morning by the police.
GUILTY . He wot further charged with having been before convicted, in September, 1868, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
THE COURT. ordered a reward of 2l. to be given to the witness Manton.
OLD COURT.—Thursday, July 15th, 1869.
Before Lord Chief Justice Bovill.
MR. DALY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON. the Defence.
In this case, after the Jury had been sworn, and the prisoner given in charge, and upon MR. DALY. commencing his opening address, one of the Jury stated that lie had a conscientious objection to trying a case involving Capital Punishment.
>LORD CHIEF JUSTICE BOVILL, after looking at the authorities, was of opinion that the Court had no power to discharge the gentleman, he having been sworn to try the case. There were only two cases at all bearing upon this question," Reg. v. Mansfield, "I Dearsley and Bell, p. 404; and" Rex. v. Wardle, "I Carrington, and Marshman, p. 647; and these cases went to show that the Court had no power of discharge when once the
Jury were sworn, except in the case of illness. Addresing the Juror, the learned Judge said, "You are in this position; you have been solemnly sword to give a verdict according to the evidence; with the consequences of that verdict you have nothing to do; you have only one duty to perform, and that is, to give a verdict according to the evidence. "The case then proceeded.
GEORGE NEALE . I am a labourer—I work at Uxbridge, and live at Smith's Buildings, there—on 6th July, about 6.30, I saw the prisoner come out of the passage into his own home, and saw him open the door—Redrup, the deceased, was with him—we used to call him Tom—they went in to No. 4, Smith's Buildings, that is Mrs. Murray's house, the prisoner's mother; but she was not there that night—the prisoner lives there—he opened the door, and Redrup stepped his foot inside, and fell down—they were both very tipsy—I went on to the tap for some water, and came back about five or six minutes afterwards, and looked into the house, and saw Redrup on his back, in the kitchen, and a cushion under his head—he was alive then—the prisoner stood at the door then—there was no blood about then—I did not notice that anything had been done to his throat—about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour afterwards my little girl called to me—I went to the door, but did not go inside—I saw Redrup lying in a pool of blood—I went for a policeman—I did not see one, and went for the doctor—the prisoner was not there then.
Cross-examined. Q. When you saw them first they were walking along together, were they not? A. Yes—they were both very drunk, holding on to each other, assisting each other—when I passed, about five minutes afterwards, I looked in, and saw the deceased lying with his head on the cushion—his throat was not cut at that time—the prisoner was not lying beside him; I never saw that; he stood inside the door; he was not down—he was indoors—I did not sec him lie down beside him—I never said that they were both lying quiet, as if asleep—the prisoner stood against the door; I am sure of that—he was in the house; but I can't say what part he was in; he was inside the door—I forget where he was—he was in the house—he was not lying down—I can't remember exactly where he was; but he was inside the house—it was about ten minutes afterwards that my little girl called me, and then I saw the blood—I don't know where the prisoner was then; he was gone—I saw him go into the house with the deceased, and I saw him after going to turn on the water, I saw him there at the door, and after that the door was shut—when I saw the deceased lying on his back, when his throat was not cut, the primmer was there along with him; he was not lying down, he was there with him.
COURT. Q. Do you know what part of the house he was in? A. Well, it's a rum job; I saw him go in, and he stood against the door when I went by to fetch the water—when I came back I saw the other one on the floor—I could not say exactly where the prisoner was; he was in the house—I could see him in the house the second time; but I can't tell where—it was the first time that I saw him against the door, as he went to the door, he opened it, the other stepped inside and fell down, and he stood there.
ROBERT CARTER . I am a labourer, and live at Uxbridge—on Tuesday, 6th July, between 6 and 7 o'clock, I saw the prisoner and deceased at the top of the passage, leading to 4, Smith's Buildings, where the prisoner lives—Camp was lying down in the passage—he did not seem sober—it is a public passage, leading to the bouses—Redrup was lying at the top of the passage, on the ground, on tire path—he was drunk; he could not
speak—the prisoner was trying to get him up—I don't think the prisoner was drunk—I think he was the worse for drink that he had been having—he was not as drunk as the other—Murray said to me, "Help us pick him up," and I helped pick him up, and said to him, "Come on, Tom"—we used to call him Tom Redrup; his proper name was Frederick—Murray said, "He is going down to our house, and if you don't like to help me take him (he pitched me on one side, and said), Don't do nothing"—I then saw them go down the passage together, leading to the house—I don't think Redrup was able to walk alone—Murray had hold of his arm.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known Murray? A. I have known him a long while; I can't say how long—I know his mother; she goes out tee work—his father is dead; he was a gardener, I believe—I think the prisoner has been working as a bricklayer's labourer; he lives in the house with his mother—I don't know of his getting a fall about six weeks before this, and hurting his head.
ANN GOWLETT . I am the wife of Samuel Gowlett, a labourer, of Ux-bridge—I remember the 6th July, three weeks come Sunday evening (27th June)—I don't know the day of the month—I saw him sharpening something on the step of his own door—he was eating his supper, for some minutes—we were inside our door—we live close to one another—after he had eaten it, I saw him throw a piece of bread out that he had done with—he was very much the worse for liquor; then I heard him scrap-ing something to and fro on the red brick, at the door—I did not speak to him then, nor he to me—I afterwards met him at the top or the passage, and he said, "I have just sharpened this, I owe a spite, and I mean having my revenge"—I could not say that I saw anything in his hand; whatever it was it went up his sleeve—I could not say what it was that he was sharpening; it was something that grated on the step—on Tuesday, 6th July, at something like 6.30, I saw the prisoner with Redrup—they went into Mrs. Murray's house—I heard them in—I don't know whether they fell down, or laid down—I went to the step of the door, and said, "Will, whatever did you bring Redrup home here for, you know how it do annoy your mother"—he said, "He has been put upon where we have been drinking, and I brought him home to protect him"—his sister came running up from her own cottage—she looked in with me, and said, "Does he not look in a fit?"—I saw Redrup lying on the floor, on his back—they were both lying down together, on the floor, but Murray was rolled more over on his side—as he lifted up his head, he spoke to me—he laid close at Redrup's feet, as Redrup laid long ways, Murray sat at his feet, in a chair, with his arms leaning on his knee—he got up from the ground—when I first saw him he was on the floor—he lifted up his head and spoke to me, and then he got up—Murray appeared to me to have a froth or foam coming from his mouth, but I quite thought it was from the drink he had had, and he was lying on his back—I saw a cushion lying close by, and I put it under his head—I shook him by the shoulder, and said, "Tom, Tom, wake up; do you know me," and he opened his eyes, and said, "Yes, Mrs. Gowlett, I am all right"—he was wry much the worse for drink, still he recognized me; he knew my voice—he was drunk—there was nothing the matter with his throat at that time—Murray then said, "I shall lie down and have an hour or two's doss"(dose); he then came from the chair which he sat in, blundered over him in some way, being tipsy, and laid down by the side of Redrup, and put his arm across him, and said again that he
intended to have a doss—I said, "Will; leave your hand a little lower than that, as it may be difficult for Redrup to breathe;" and he then moved his arm a little lower, towards his stomach—I then left them both lying down close together—about ten minutes afterwards, or it might be a quarter of an hour, I could not say for a minute or two, I saw Murray pass my door, but did not take any particular notice of him; I heard his door shut, and heard him pass at the moment—I believe his sister was in her own house at this time, I don't know—I did not see anyone but Murray and the deceased in the house at the time I left, or after—after Murray had left the house, I heard a scream, "Oh, my God! here is a sight! look at Tom Redrup!"—I went to the step, and looked in, and saw the face of Redrup in a different state to what I had left him; he was very pale, as though he was dead—I did not go in, I went away directly, and saw nothing more.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you known Murray some time? A. Yes, and his mother—he had been drinking a good deal for a long time—about six weeks before this transaction I heard that he had fallen down and cut his head, and lost a quantity of blood—I know he had been keeping company with a young woman, she had left him, and I heard that that preyed on his mind, and made him give to drink—he was drunk nearly every day shortly before this occurrence—when drunk, he was in a very wild and frenzied state—his sister lives near, at No. 1; she is married to Edward Groom, a painter—the prisoner's mother lives at No. 4—she is a nurse—he is not an only child, or an only son; he is the only one at home—I did not know his father, I believe he has been dead some years—Groom's father lives at No. 2, and I live at No. 3—No. 4 is a three-roomed house, one above the other—the room I saw them in is on the ground-floor, that is used as a kitchen and sitting-room; there is no other place besides that down stairs, except a little cupboard—the mother has not slept there for the last eight weeks, she goes out nursing—the prisoner slept in the top room—no one occupied the house but he and his mother, when she was at home—Neale lives at No. 5—I was at the end of the row when Neale came running by; I saw him go and look in after he had been for the water—before the prisoner got up into the chair he was lying beside the deceased, he was on his side and the deceased was on his back; the cushion was under his head then—I saw the prisoner lying in that way for a moment or so before he got into the chair—I could not say the time justly, for a minute—when I first looked in, I saw him lying beside Redrup—he could only have been there a few minutes, from the time they passed my door—I only said, "Why did you bring him in here?"—that seemed to disturb Murray, he seemed to be doseficd—it was immediately after he used the words I have mentioned that he scrambled up into the chair—he then laid down again beside Redrup, and I left them in that way—my attention was called by the screaming, about ten minutes afterwards—when I left them there was nothing the matter with Redrup, that I saw, except the effects of drink.
GEORGE REDRUP . I am a printer—I am the brother of the deceased—his name was Frederick—he was thirty-two years of age—I saw him on 5th July—on the 6th, about 7 o'clock, in consequence of what I heard, I went to 4, Smith's Buildings, which is occupied by the prisoner and his mother—I there found my brother lying on the floor, with his throat cut; I felt him, and was satisfied that he was dead—I looked round the room when I went in, and saw a chair, and a razor lying on it, about a yard from the middle of my brother's body, from the middle of his breast; the outer edge of the
chair was, I should think, about two or three feet from the middle of his body; I have not measured it—the razor was in about the middle of the seat of the chair—it was a common Windsor chair—the razor was lying straight across the middle of the chair, not in a line with my brothers arm, but away from it, crossways—there was blood on the handle, and the blade too and two or three drops of blood had dropped from the handle on to the chair—I laid hold of my brother's hand, but I did not move it—I merely laid hold of it to feel if there was any life in him—I considered he was dead—his hands laid on his breast in that position (describing it)—there was a pool of blood on the floor on each side of him—there were some persons at the door at the time, but no one else in the house when I went in; I think Mrs. Gowlett was at the door, I can't be certain—when I first saw my brother he lay on his back, with his hands so; both of them open, or nearly so; they might not have been quite flat, but in that position—there was a little blood on the back of his right hand, I think, but none on the front—there was no blood on the left hand; the left hand was uppermost, nearest his head—he lay flat on his back, and his legs quite straight, as though he was asleep, and had not moved—as soon as I found that he was dead, I came out again, and closed the door—Dr. Ferris came directly after me; I suppose I had been outside three or four minutes, and we went into the house again together—we examined him, and was satisfied that he was dead—I waited till a policeman came—I left the house in his charge, with orders not to allow anybody to touch him, or go into the house, except Dr. Ferris, or any other medical gentleman—I then went with a police-constable straight to my father's shop, in High Street, opposite the Market House, and the prisoner was there in custody—the constable said to him, "I take you in custody on a charge of the wilful murder of Frederick Redrup "—the shop was full of people, at least there was my sister, and several there; and I am not quite certain what the prisoner said, but I believe he said, "All right, I will go"—he was taken to the police-station, and given in charge—Sergeant Cooper asked the constable, West, what number it was in Smith's Buildings, and the prisoner said, "99 "—West said, "No. 4 "—the prisoner said, "You know nothing about it, Mr. West; if you had been there, you would have been in the same position as he is now "—the prisoner was searched, and a bead was produced from his pocket—I said to the constable, "Take care of that bead, for I believe we have some at home that will match it"—there were spots of blood on the inside of the leg of the prisoner's trowsers—I could see that as he was going along the street with us—I did not see any blood anywhere else—my brother was of weak mind, and had been so from his birth—the prisoner was the worse for liquor—I should wish to mention about the bead, I produce some which exactly match the one found on the prisoner; they belong to my daughter; my brother was in the habit of having a bead in his mouth, he was scarcely ever without a bead or a button in his mouth.
JOHN VAGG . I am a butcher, living at Uxbridge—on Tuesday, 6th July, about 7 o'clock, I was in the Market House, Uxbridge, and saw the prisoner there talking to William Nicholla—I heard him tell Nicholls "I have cut young Redrup's throat"—Nicholls said, "What did you do it with?"—he said, "I cut his throat with a razor"—I then got the assistance of police-constable West, and took him into custody—he was not sober—so far as I could judge, I should think he knew what he was doing and saying—I went with him and the constable to the shop of the deceased's
father—the constable left him in my charge while he went to make in-quiries at the house—while he was gone the prisoner said, "I cut the b—'s throat, and meant to have another, only did not get the chance"—the lister of the deceased then came into the shop, and began scolding him for what he had done to her brother, and he said, "If you had been there I should have served you the same"—I pointed out to him that there was tome blood inside the left leg of his trowsers, a large patch of quite fresh blood, and he laid, "I helped to kill a bullock, last week."
ARTHUR JAMES WEST . (Policeman X 47). From information I received, I took the prisoner into custody, in the Market House, Uxbridge, about six or seven minutes past 7 o'clock—Mr. Vagg said to me, in his presence, and pointing to him, "He says he has cut Tom Redrup's throat"—the prisoner said, "Yes, I have; I will go with you, Mr. West"—I took him across to the deceased's father, to ascertain whether such was the case or not—I said to the prisoner, "Where is Tom?"—he said, "At my mother's house"—I left the prisoner in charge of Mr. Vagg, and went to 4, Smith's Buildings, where I saw the body of the deceased—he was quite dead—I then returned to the prisoner, and told him I should take him into custody on the charge of the wilful murder of Frederick Redrup—he said, "All right, I will go"—on the road to the station I met a brother constable, who said, "What's the matter down the town; I heard that they wanted two or three policemen there"—I said, "This man is charged with wilful murder"—the prisoner said, "Yes, and I would do it again, if I had the chance"—I took him to the station, and he was charged by the deceased's brother with the wilful murder of Frederick Redrup—Sergeant Cooper asked me the number of the house in Smith's Buildings—I said, No. "4 "—the prisoner said, "You know nothing about it, Mr. West; you were not there, or you would have been in the same position as he is "—I did not notice that the prisoner said anything about No. 99—I searched him, and found on him this glass bead, a key, 6d. in silver, and 3 1/2 d. in copper—I did not examine his clothes—I noticed a spot of blood on the inside of the left leg of his trowser; it was a large spot, about an inch or an inch and a half long, and almost as broad as your two fingers; it was quite wet.
EDWIN GOULD . (Policeman X 273). I produce a razor—I found it on 6th July, about 7.10 in the evening, on a chair, at No. 4, Smith's Buildings, Uxbridge, on the ground-floor—Mrs. Murray occupies that place—I saw the deceased lying on the floor, on his back, with his head towards the door—this cushion I found on the table; there was no cushion under his head then—I measured the distance from the centre of the breast of the deceased to the nearest edge of the seat of the chair, and it was exactly three feet—I found this razor-case in a small drawer of a chest of drawers in the room; the top was off, and one place was vacant—the razor I found its into it—the name of Murray is scratched, as if with a pin, on both sides of the razor.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose A great many persons had been in there before you went? A. I can't say; the name of Murray was also scratched on the not that was in the case—I found that in the top drawer of the chest of drawers; the drawers were to the left of the deceased, and about five feet from him.
WILLIAM MABON . ((Policeman A R 413). I went to 4, Smith's Buildings, a few minutes before 8 o'clock on the evening of 6th July—I saw the deceased there—there was a cupboard on the right-hand tide, in the same
room, a sort of little washing-place, it was on the right-band side from where the deceased lay, a little further back, almost straight with his feet, the door would be almost level with his feet, and about four or five feet from them—the door was open—I saw a hand-basin in that cupboard, with water in it, of a reddish colour—this towel was on the door—there was blood on it—I submitted it to Dr. Ferris; it was wet when I found it; it looked like blood—there was a little spot or two of blood or red in the basin, just above the water, as if from the water—I taw the deceased lying there, and I saw the razor on the chair, and I stretched hit right arm over towards the chair—he was then quite warm—I stretched his fingers up, and I spanned the space with my hand, and I should say it was about mine or ten inches from the edge of the chair; it would not reach the chair by nine or ten inches—police-constable Gould was in charge of the room when I went there—I saw two spots of blood about a foot from the door leading to the cupboard, where I found the water; they were in a direction from where the deceased lay to the cupboard; there was a knife partly out of the deceased's pocket; there was no blood on it—I searched the deceased and found on him this knife, three pipes, a tobacco-box, and a brass match-box.
JAMES THOMAS COOPER . (Police Sergeant X 13). I went to the police-station after the prisoner was brought there—I took the charge, and read it over to him—he said, "Not guilty!"—I examined his clothes—I took off his shirt, and on the right wristband and right sleeve there were spots of blood—Dr. Ferris has seen it—(producing it)—when I first saw it it was rather sticky, it appeared as if it had just got dry—I also found blood on the trowsers which the prisoner was wearing, a splash of blood inside the left leg, and smears of blood on the right leg; it was sticky, just getting dry—the prisoner was decidedly intoxicated.
EDWIN GOULD . (re-examined). I believe I was the first constable that went to the house—when I went in, the chair on which the razor was was on the right hand of the deceased—it was not moved afterwards from its position, until I had measured it; I am sure of that—I can't say who, or how many had been in the room before I arrived.
MR. DALY. then called Walter Hay, a witness who had been examined before the Coroner. MR. RIBTON. stated that he had received no notice of what that evidence was to prove. THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE. said it was unfortunate that course had not been followed; but it was a matter upon which Counsel must exercise their own discretion. MR. DALY, exercising that discretion, did not examine the witness.
JOHN SPENCER FERRIS . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons—on 6th July I was called in to No. 4, Smith's Buildings—I got there at 7.5—as the door was opened, I found the deceased living on the floor, with his head towards the door—his head was in a pool of blood—I examined him, and found him quite dead—my attention was directed by George Redrup, to his throat, rod I found a large gash, in the throat, from side to side, and I saw that the windpipe was out right through—there was one out right across, and just the beginning of one on the right aide; one very small superficial one, and one large one right across—his hands were across his chest like that (describing the position)—one across the chart and one across the stomach—there were only a few sprinkles of blood on hit right hand, on the back, dotted over; just sprinkles, as if from the jet of an artery—there was no blood on the inside of the right hand—there was blood on the back
of the left hand, and the palm of the fingers was covered with blood—the back of the fingers was covered with blood, with the exception of just the tip of the forefinger—there was nothing more on the back, just a little stream like, running down; but not continuously over it, as if it had run down from the back of the fingers—the insides of the fingers were covered with blood—there was no blood on the body lower than the collar bone, in front, on the shirt—I mean, running down—the wound must have been done when he was lying down—next afternoon I made a more detailed examination of the wound, with the assistance of Mr. Macnamara and Mr. Roberts, surgeons, of Uxbridge—I found a large gash right across the throat, and there was a smaller one on the left side, not reaching through the skin—the large wound was not deep, on the left side; the left carotid artery was not cut through—the windpipe was cut right through, at the top of the trachea—the gullet was not wounded—the right carotid artery was cut completely through, and the large muscle on the neck was also cut completely through—the mass of blood was on the right side of the head, which would be accounted for by the right artery being cut—there were sprinkles of blood on his waistcoat and on his trowsers—the cut commenced on the left side of the throat—a razor would produce it—I saw this razor on the chair on the right side of the deceased—it would produce the wound I have described—death would ensue in a minute or two from such a wound, very quick—the wound was the cause of death—I noticed the room, there was no sign of struggle—there was a paper screen, about half a foot to the left of the deceased, which was not disarranged, nor was there blood upon it—there was a small, square piece of carpet, not nailed down, lying on the floor—that was not disarranged—that was under the deceased—the chairs were evenly against the wall, and there was a table to the left; in fact, there were no signs of a struggle—there were no scratches or bruises on the face or hands of the deceased—I examined some water in a basin; it was very dirty, soapy water; it had a reddish colour—I examined it—I cannot swear that it was blood—I found no distinct evidence of its being blood, although most probably it was—the prisoner's clothes were shown me next day—the red spots upon them were blood, decidedly, and human blood—his shirt was shown to me, and these trowsers and this towel—I think that was all—these marks are all blood, decidedly human blood—they appeared recent then—I am of opinion that if the deceased had got up to inflict the wound upon himself, the blood would have streamed down his chest, and there was none below the collar bone—if he did not get up, his hand would not reach the chair.
Cross-examined. Q. But there is no proof that the chair had not been moved? A. I was there before the police; I don't know who may have been there before me—I have heard the evidence—I have heard it stated that the prisoner had been in the habit of drinking very freely for some time previously—constant habitual drunkenness of that sort would produce a diseased state of the brain; an inflammatory condition; frenzy would be the more proper term, perhaps—persons in that condition would at times have no control over their actions, not if they have been drinking for a long time; they get into a state of delirium tremerw—if the prisoner had received a severe blow on his head six weeks before this, that would render him more susceptible to these deleterious influences; it would have made the influence of drink more strong upon him—I agree with this passage in Dr. Taylor's work: "In cases where the head has sustained
any physical injury, as among soldiers and sailors, drunkenness, even when existing to a slight extent, produces sometimes a fit of temporary insanity, leaving the mind clear when the drunken fit is over"—I did not examine the prisoner at all—I did not know him before this; I knew his mother.
MR. DALY. Q. Did you see the prisoner after this crime was committed? A. No, except at the Police Court, that was next day, at 12 o'clock—he was sober then—I only saw him in the dock—he said nothing.
J. T. COOPER. (re-examined). The prisoner was in my charge part of the night—he was in the custody of two constables—I was in the station; but they were immediately with him the whole night, till he was taken before the Magistrate next day, at 12 o'clock—I saw him before the Magistrate—I had left him at 6 o'clock, and saw him again at 11.30—I was in the Court the whole of the time, and brought him to the House of Detention the same day—about 6 o'clock in the evening he seemed to have recovered from the effects of the drink—I saw him then at the Hillingdon police station—he was perfectly sensible then—he was asked by the Chairman of the Bench of Magistrates if he had any questions to ask any of the witnesses, at the end of their examination, and he said, "No"—he had slept in the station all night—he laid down on the cocoa-nut matting, and had a coat put under his head, and he slept there the whole night, at least, I won't say the whole night—he was dozing—he had completely recovered from his drunkenness in the evening, by 6 o'clock, and seemed perfectly composed and sober—he had some refreshments before 12, ginger beer and some bread and cheese.
GUILTY .— DEATH .
MR. LEIGH. conducted that Prosecution; and MR. ROLLAND. the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. LEIGH. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. DALY. the Defence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Thursday, July 15th, 1869.
Before Mr. Recorder.
655. MARY ANN CLARK (43), CHRISTIANA CLARK (20), and JANE ROBERTS (40) , Unlawfully conspiring to procure Mary Ann Clark, a girl under the age of twenty-one years, to become a common prostitute. Second Count—To procure the prostitution of Mary Ann Capell. Third Count—To keep a common bawdy house.
MR. BESLEY. conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. and DAVIN. the Defence.
GUILTY. on the first and second counts.
MARY ANN CLARK and ROBERTS— Twelve Months' Imprisonment, teach. CHRISTIANA CLARK— Four Months' Imprisonment.
HOLMES PLEADED GUILTY .
MR. GRIFFITHS. conducted the Presecution.
JOHN FRANCIS MITCHELL . (City Policeman 858). On 16th June, about 12 o'clock, I saw the prisoners in Fore Street, Cripplegate, and saw them go in and out of several warehouses—detective Fawke was with me—we followed them to Friday Street—Holmes went into No. 8—Harris waited outside—Holmes came out, spoke to Harris, went in again, and brought out this piece of cloth, without paper—I caught hold of him, but he got away—I went next morning to 2, Batter's Court, Bunhill Row, and found Harris in bed with a young woman—I told him I was a constable, and should take him for stealing a piece of luster in Friday Street, on the 15th—he said, "All right, sir"—I took him to the station—I am sure he is the man who was with Holmes.
Harris. Q. Do you know anything against my character? A. Not myself—I have seen you with Holmes—you had been watched into warehouses for the last five weeks, and had been followed home.
JOSEPH WILLIAM FAWKE . (City Policeman 348). I was with Mitchell, and saw the prisoners cross Fore Street, in conversation, into Wood Street—I watched them to various warehouses, and ultimately into Friday Street, and was by the side of the warehouse when Holmes brought out this piece of goods—Harris was then about five yards away; they joined within about two yards—I walked up; Mitchell took Holmes, and Harris ran away—I am sure he is the man—I have seen him before, but cannot say where.
HARRIS— GUILTY .
Both prisoners were further charged with having been before convicted, to which they
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment each.
MR. BRINDLEY. conducted the Protection; and MR. COLE. the Defence.
WILLIAM BURGURNEY . I am warehouseman to Francis Wyatt Truscott and others, printers—Allen was their carman, and Watts was his assistant—on the morning of 6th July I looked into the van, and found a quantity of paper which should not have been there, about eleven reams of double foolscap, and two of post, value 7l. 10s.—it was not addressed to anyone—I followed the van to the railway arch in Gravel Lane—Allen came along with two sacks on his arm, got into the van, and drove to his house, 21, Wellington Street; he there took out two large bundles in the sacks, and put them into his house—he closed the van after him each time—a boy named Elderkin was with him, who drove the van away, and the prisoner went into a public-house—I have seen the paper since, it is the property of the firm.
Cross-examined. Q. How many hands do your masters employ? A. About 200—they have one carman—they do a large export business—it takes sometimes five or ten minutes and sometimes an hour to load a van; it depends on the nature of the goods—we have only one, a covered van, which will hold about a ton and a half—I had started it off with paper—Watts was not with it when I saw it off.
COURT. Q. Was the other paper in the van loose, or packed op? A. It was loose reams of paper, and printed forms for the London Docks—the
piper which ought not to hare been there was not described, the other was—Watts has been two jean in the service, and Allen ten.
Allen. Q. Was not the paper in the van long before I came to my employ-ment that morning? A. Yes.
Cross-examined. Q. Ton did not see anyone put paper into the van? A. No.
HENRY WALTER PERCY . I am fourteen years old, and am employed at Truscutt's—on the night of 5th July, about 6.30, I saw Watts pot several reams of paper into Allen's Tan—next morning, about 7.35, I saw him take the two-wheeled truck into the paper room, and bring out the whole, and take it round to the door, and pot it into Allen's van—it was not his duty to remove paper from the room; but I had seen him do to before, and put it in the van.
Cross-examined. Q. What capacity are you employed in? A. Ware-house boy—I only know the duties of the persons in the warehouse—the ran stood in the loading dock—Watts took the trunk into the paper room, boldly and openly—the men were not about; they do not come till 8.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he assistant warehouseman? A. Yes—his wages were 18s. a week, and Allen's 25s.
WILLIAM ELDERKIN . I am Van boy to Messrs. Truscott, and live at 27, Hemmingford Road, Islington—I went with Allen in the van—he told me to drive underneath the railway arch—he got into the van there, and we went to hit house, 21, Wellington Street, where he took out two bags, and took them up stairs—I had been to his house before.
COURT. Q. Where did the Tan go afterwards? A. To the London Docks—hit house was not in the way there from my master's.
WILLIAM GREEN . (City Detective). I went to Messrs. Truscott's on Tuesday, and Allen was called into the counting-house—I told him I was an officer, and was going to take him for stealing paper from his master—I asked him if he had been out with the van that morning—he said, "Yes"—I asked him if he had been home—he said, "No"—Watts was brought in by another officer, and I asked him if he had delivered any paper to Allen that morning—he said, "No"—I took him to the station, and went to 21, Wellington Street, Blackfriars Road, searched the house, and, in a back garret, found two large sacks, containing reams of paper.
Cross-examined. Q. Did Watts deny that he had delivered any paper to Allen? A. Yes.
Allen's statement before the Magistrate. "I wish to say that the other man, William, the labourer, assisted Watts in putting the paper in the van, and Watts will say so himself."
Allen's Defence. I plead guilty to taking the paper to my bouse in the van, but not to putting it in the van; as I was putting my horse in, William, the labourer, said, "We have put some paper in your van, under the foot-board; we want you to take it to your house, and we will tee that it is all right. "I have a wife and children.
COURT. to WILLIAM BURGCRNEY. Q. At what time do the men and boys come to work? A. The boys and labourers at 7 in the morning; they come into the building and sweep the place, before the journeymen, and females, and
compositors come at 8—certain boys and men axe allotted to sweep each department—Wattes' time to come was 7 o'clock, to help clean the place.
MR. BRINDLEY. Q. How many men and boys are there before 8? A. Above a dozen boys, sweeping different parts of the building.
GUILTY . ALLEN— Fifteen Months' Imprisonment. WATTS— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
THIRD COURT.—Thursday, July 15th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. F. H. LEWIS, for the Prosecution, offered no evidence against Rodd—
NOT GUILTY. THE COURT. considered there was no case against Penny—
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUNT. conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN FRANCIS . I live at 28, Cambridge Road—I am a tailor—on the evening of 2nd June, about 5 o'clock, I was in Orange Street, Bethnal Green—three persons came behind me, and roughly brushed me over the left shoulder—I looked round at them; one made a blow at my breast—they snatched my chain—the chain broke, and they took my watch—the prisoner was the man who seized my watch—he ran away—I turned to run after him, and the other two men put their legs out and threw me on the stones—I sprang up and ran after him to the bottom of Orange Street—he turned round to see if I was following, and I saw him again—he turned round two or three times—I followed him to Virginia Row, and he got away—I did not follow him further—my watch was worth 6l.—on Monday, the 7th, a policeman came to me, and I went to the station—I saw the prisoner there—I picked him out of seven or eight others.
JOHN BURROWS . (Policeman H R 40). I took the prisoner into custody on the morning of the 7th, from information—I charged him with stealing a watch on the 2nd—he said, "I think you have made a mistake "—the prosecutor came down to the station and identified him.
LOUISA KING .—I live at 5, Park Cottages, Hackney, and am a single woman—on 6th June I was in Virginia Row with Edwin Stringer, about 3.30 in the afternoon—I saw the prisoner and some others tossing up half-pence at the corner of the street—there were about five of them—the prisoner snatched at Mr. Stringer's watch, and ran away—I followed him and caught him—he struck me a blow on the shoulder, and I let him go again—I saw Stringer on the ground with three or four men on him—the prisoner was the man who snatched the watch; he was not one of those on the prosecutor.
EDWIN STRINGER . I am a draper, at Hackney—on 6th June I was with the last witness—when we got to the comer of Percy Street I saw several young men tossing halfpence—one came to me, and seized my watch and ran away—King ran after him and caught him—I made a blow at him with my stick, and I was thrown down by several others—I saw King receive a blow on the shoulder, and she came to my assistance—my watch was worth about 10l.—I can't identify the prisoner, I scarcely saw his face.
JOHN BURROWS . (Policeman H R 40). I took the prisoner into custody, and charged him with stealing the watch—he said he was in bed at the time, but he knew who did it—he was identified by the witness King.
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. the Defence.
AUGUSTINE VANDKERLAND . (Interpreted). I live at Ropemaker Street, St. Luke's—on the 10th June I was at the Rose and Crown, Tower Hill, between 6 and 7 o'clock—I saw the prisoner—I asked him for a shilling which I had lent him about three months previously—he said be would not give it me—we got into words, and the prisoner out me, first on the cheek, then on my hand, my left arm, my chest, and the back of my neck—he cut me with a knife—I could not say what colour the handle was—I was drunk—I had seen the prisoner with a knife before—not that day—the prisoner pulled off his coat and wanted to fight—that was before he cut me.
Cross-examined. Q. You were very drunk, were you not? A. Yes—I had had too much—I don't know a man named Newton—I don't know that man—I saw him that night—he was present—I did not throw Newton twice—I did not beat and bang the prisoner's head—he was drunk, and he fell on the ground—I did not throw the prisoner on the ground, and knock and hammer his head—the prisoner did not say, "Let me get away, you will murder me"—there were six or seven persons there—some English and some foreigners.
MARIE DEBEAU . I live at Back Church Lane, St George's—on 10th June, between 6 and 7 o'clock, I was in the Rose and Crown, on Tower Hill—I saw the prisoner and prosecutor there—I heard something about a shilling, and saw the prisoner cut the prosecutor with a knife—I saw the blade of a knife, not the handle—he cut him on the cheek—I saw the blood. Cross-examined. Q. You saw the blade, and not the handle? A. Only the blade—there were six or seven persons there—there was a great deal of scuffling going on—I did not see the prosecutor knock anybody down—I heard the quarrel, and saw the cutting, and that was all I did see—the prosecutor and prisoner were on the ground—I saw Newton there—he was not on the ground—the prosecutor was very drunk—I believe the prisoner was sober.
MR. BRINDLEY. Q. How was Newton? A. He was drunk.
GEORGE NEWTON . I am a labourer, and live at 18, Sidney Street, Mile End—I was at the Rose and Crown on this night—I had a small portion of beer, amounting to a pot—I went there at 9.30 in the morning—I was perfectly sober till long after the row—I got drunk between 9 and 10 o'clock—I saw the prisoner there—I saw the prosecutor aggravate him,
worry him, strike him, slap him—I separated them, and got the prosecutor to sit by my side—he afterwards got up and threw three or four of us on the ground—he was raging mad drunk—he lugged the prisoner by the hair out of the door—I scrambled from the ground and went out—I tried to separate them, when someone, who I could not see, struck me a blow in the ribs, and I was obliged to give way—I did not see any knife—I did not see who cut the prosecutor—the prisoner was perfectly sober.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you knocked down by the prisoner? A. I could not see who did it—the prosecutor threw three of us on the floor together—they were perfect strangers to me—the row was about a shilling—the prisoner borrowed a shilling from the landlady and paid it to the prosecutor—there were seven or eight foreigners there.
SAMUEL DAMEREL . (Policeman H 140). I apprehended the prisoner the day after, on board the steam ship Baron Osy—I charged him with stabbing the prosecutor—he said he did not do it, for he had got no kaife—I did not find any knife on him.
EDMUND VIALS . I was house-surgeon at the London Hospital—the prosecutor was brought there on the 10th—there was an incised wound on the cheek, extending from the left ear to the corner of the mouth, about four inches long; a wound on the upper part of the left arm, about two inches in length; a wound, not very deep, on the chest, about an inch and a half in length; a wound on the back of the right hand, from the wrist to the roots of the fingers; and a wound at the back of the head, about two inches in length; and a few scratches besides—the wounds were all inflicted by some sharp instrument—he is well now—none of the wounds were dangerous.
GUILTY. of unlawfully wounding. Strongly recommended to mercy on account of the provocation he received. — Nine Months' Imprisonment.
OLD COURT.—Friday, July 16th, 1869.
Before Lord Chief Justice Bovill.
MR. FLOOD DAVIN. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. HARRIS. the Defence.
MARY ANN BERRIDGE . I am the wife of William Berridge, of 30, Thomas Street, Clerkenwell—it is our dwelling-house—the prisoner lodged with me on the first floor back—on the evening of the 7th July, she came home at 5.30—she asked me if I would give her a cup of tea—I told her to go to her own room, and I would bring it up to her—she refused to do so, and sat down in my kitchen—I poured her out a cup at the table—she did not drink it—she poured half of it out of the cup and threw it into my little girl's face—I ordered her out of the kitchen—she then took up the cat's saucer of cold water, and threw it into the little boy's face—she then took up a knife that I was cutting the bread and butter with, and ran to me in the corner, and said she would run it through me to the handle—she then threw the knife away across the table, and want up into her own room—she had been drinking—she went out, and returned about 8.45—I was speaking to a policeman at the time, asking his advice about what I should do, and she began abusing the policeman—she did not speak to me—she want and stood at the foot of the stain, and said she would burn the house down and all that was in it—she was still under the influence of liquor, but
not so bad as she was at 5.30—the went up stairs to her own room, and sat there using the most obscene language for about half-an-hour—there was no one there—she said, "I will find my matches, and I will burn the place"—I went out into the yard about fire minutes afterwards, to get my clothes in, and I saw the flames reaching to the second floor window, and she was standing with the match box in one hand, and a large piece of lighted paper in the other, holding it underneath the valance of the window—the valance was all a blazing, and she was still holding it—I ran and got my little children out of bed, and laid them at the street door—a young man was passing the door, and I pulled him in, and begged him to come in and put the flames out—he went up stairs, and burst the door open, and went in and took the paper out of the prisoner's hand—I went in with him—it was all a blazing, the valance was best part burnt, and all the wood work and frame work was cracking—the young man put out the fire with rags—I sent for a policeman, and gave the prisoner in charge.
Cross-examined. Q. You have known the prisoner some time, have you not? A. Only since the Saturday before Whit-Sunday, when she moved into my house—I never saw her before—I did not ask for her character—she was only moving out of the neighbourhood close by—I was in the yard when I first saw the flames—I should think they must have been burning five minutes, because the wood work was all cracking—I don't know whether the window faces the south, it faces Green Terrace—I had no quarrel with the prisoner—she told me her husband had been disturbed by the bugs and could not sleep, and I offered her a room on the second floor front, which was clean, and she took her beds up to that room at 5.30—she did not take up the curtains, nothing but the beds—the room was quite empty, I was going to let it—there were no curtains in it—her room was the first floor back—they were her own curtains in that room—she said she was going to move her things up stairs next day—the window to her room is a sash window—there were no long curtains to it, only a valance across—she had no candle—we found the candle when the prisoner was there, all smashed under her feet—she had not lighted any candle, only a piece of paper, from the matches—she had the box in her hand—I did not say anything to her when I went into the room—the young man asked her what she was doing, and she said she was burning the bugs out—I did not see that her apron or dress was burnt, I did not notice—I followed the young man in—I saw the flames—she was sitting on a basket when I went in—it was about five minutes from the time when I first saw the flames till I went into the room—I had to get my four children out of bed—one is six years old, big enough to run out himself—the prisoner was not doing anything when I went in, she was sitting on a basket by the tide of the bed—the young man was putting out the flames with a rag, I think part of a nightgown which he picked up—he pushed her on to the box, and got the paper out of her hand—she did not seem agitated—it is a very large window—there was no bed the room—she had carried the beds up in the afternoon—her carpet was on the floor, and her clothing was there—in the other rooms there were beds and furniture of all kinds—the valance was all consumed, and all up the side of the window frame was burnt.
ARTHUR WELCH . I live at 14, Wynnyat Street, Clerkenwell—about 9.30., on the evening of 7th July, as I was passing through Thomas Street Clerkenwell, the last witness laid hold of me and dragged me in, and said "For God's sake, go up stain"—I went up and burst the door open—it was
locked—I went in and saw the prisoner—she had got a lighted paper in one hand and a lucifer box in the other, and she was burning the valance that was up at the window—it was all in a blaze—I pulled it down and threw it into the yard, all alight—I pulled the blind down and took the paper out of her hand—she tried to stop my putting the fire out, and I pushed her on to a box or basket in the room—I asked her what she did it for—she said she was doing it to kill the bugs—she had been drinking.
Cross-examined. Q. Have you said before that she tried to stop you? A. Yes, I believe so—at the Police Court—and also that I pulled the paper out of her hand—(The witness's depositions being read did not contain those statements)—she said she was burning the place to kill the bugs, as her husband had no sleep—what I saw burning was the valance or rag that hung across the window—a kind of blind, made of dimity—that was flaming, and the side was charred, and the wood was cracking with sparks, the paint was burnt off and the wood discoloured—I was the first that went into the room—I dabbed the flame out with a piece of rag—I could not say that the door was locked—I could not undo it, so I burst it open—I did not notice the prisoner's dress.
JOSEPH ADAMS . (Policeman G 120). I was called to the house—I went up to the room—the prisoner was sitting by the side of the window—the valance was gone—the window frame had been burnt, it was charred and black, and I put my hand on it and it was then quite hot—the prosecutrix said she would give the prisoner into custody—I asked that prisoner what she did it for—she said she did it to burn the bugs, that her husband had no rest the night before, and she burnt it do that he might have a little rest—I did not observe her dress.
MARY ANN BERRIDGE . (re-examined). I had seen the valance before it was burnt, it was over half a yard in depth—there was a short muslin curtain to the bottom of the window, but the top sash was pulled down and the short curtain was between the two sashes, and was not burnt—she could not have set light to the valance accidentally in lighting a match—the bottom of it was, I should say, nearly two yards from the ground—she could reach it without standing on anything—it is a lofty room—I don't know the height.
NOT GUILTY .
MESSRS. BESLEY. and MOODY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BRINDLEY. the Defence.
EDWARD PULLEN . I am a builder, and live in Great Wild Street—on Saturday night, 26th June, about 7 o'clock, I was at the corner of Gilbert's Passage, facing Portugal Street, and saw two vans coming along Portugal Street; the first ran had four heavy balks of timber on it—I saw five little children playing on the pavement on the off side of the van, against Messrs. Twining's reading rooms—the width of the pavement there is about three feet six inches—the van was coming down Portugal Street, and turning into Portsmouth Street—that street is sixteen feet wide there, from kerb to kerb—this plan (looking at one) is very near the mark for a rough sketch—the van was driven round the corner at a very sharp trot, it was drawn by two horses; it was a heavy four wheeled van—as it turned the corner the deceased child was on the kerb, and the box of the fore wheel caught her in the buttock, as she stood with her back to that van; she reeled, and was thrown under the hind wheel, which passed over her chest—I was on
the opposite side of the road—my daughter was with me, she screamed out, and then the van was pulled up, it had gone on about thirty-six yards from where the child was killed; it had passed Mr. Lack's public-house, and the Black Jack, and was right over Mr. Jewel's furniture shop; they are long fronts, it had passed three houses, and the horses' heads were on to the fourth—I did not see the driver—there was nothing in the street to obstruct the driver's view—I did not hear any calling out from the van before the accident happened—the children were playing on the foot pavement—I directly went after a constable, and a man picked up the child—the timbers projected over the front and tail of the van, they were said to be about twenty-six feet long, I should say they projected full eight feet over the tail of the van.
Cross-examined. Q. And how much over the front? A. I should sup-pose about the same—I and my daughter had been in Mr. Lack's public-house, we had one pint of beer there—there was no man named Beecham in my company—I don't know him—I came out of the house first, and my daughter followed me—the vans were then proceeding along Portugal Street; I can't say how far from me, I have no idea—I did not see Mr. Lack outside his house till after the occurrence—the driver evidently drew to that side of the road in order to get round with the timber that was in the waggon—it was not necessary for him to do so in order to avoid striking any persons on the other side—I have said that he was obliged to pull his van close 'to the kerb, to get his timber round; that was on account of his being on the off side—I can't say how far the hones' heads were from Mr. Lack's public-house at the time of the accident—I ran to pick up the child; they were not near Mr. Lack's house, I should suppose they were four feet from the pillars of the public-house, they might be more—the front wheel of the van grated the side of the off kerb as it passed—a person standing in Porte-mouth Street could have seen the accident—the children were three or four feet down Portugal Street, they were not in Portsmouth Street—the child was killed in Portugal Street, about three feet from the corner—the accident happened as the van was turning the corner, the back wheel had not turned the corner—the front wheel was quite close to the kerb, the back wheel struck off, it was a very little distance from it, it might have been fifteen or sixteen inches perhaps from the kerb, not more—the van was between me and the child, I did not stoop to see the child, I was leaning with my foot on the spur stone—I do not know a person named Holder (He was here called in) I saw that man—I did not speak to him about the accident, that I know of—I never saw him till I saw him at Bow Street—I did not say to him, or to anyone, that there was no blame to the driver—I should say I had not come out of the public-house two minutes before the accident happened—the van was going at a fast trot, I am no judge of pace—I have not said it was going seven miles an hour, no such thing, I said, about seven miles, according to my judgment—it did not go slower round the corner.
FRANCIS CHAPPLE . I am a law-writer, and live at 13, Blewitt's Build-ings—on this Saturday evening I was in Portugal Street, just at the corner, nearly facing the hospital, close to the Temperance coffee-shop—I then beard the rattle of wheels, and the van came along—the box of the fore wheel struck the child, and nearly turned it on one side—she reeled, and fell off the pavement, and the hind wheel went over her—I made a spring, but before I could catch hold of the child she was under the wheel—I was about a yard from her—it was so sudden that I did not take any
notice of the speed at which the van was going—I picked the child up and took her into the hospital—the prisoner was brought in while I was there—I went with the child's father to the hospital, next day, and pointed out the body.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined before the Coroner? A. Yes the pavement is old, and the kerb rather sloping—the accident happened in Portugal Street—the child did not fall against the wheel, the box of the wheel caught her—I heard the wheel catch the kerb; that drew my attention, and caused me to make a spring to save the child.
JAMES KEEN . I live at 4 A, Clayland's Road, Peckham Road—I was in Portugal Street on this morning, in front of King's College Hospital, with a friend—the two vans passed us—the front van was laden with timber—it was proceeding towards Portsmouth Street, at a rate of not less than seven miles an hour, and I am confident I am under the mark—I was about 200 yards from where the accident occurred—I kept my eye on the van until it vanished round the corner—I did not observe any diminution in the rate of speed—I did not actually see the child run over, but immediately after the van had gone round the corner, I saw the last witness with the child in his arms, running across with it to the hospital—I went on into Portsmouth Street, and assisted in detaining the horses—the driver had left the box and gone to the hospital, and the van was in charge of a boy.
Cross-examined. Q. Have not you said before that you were 200 or 300 yards away? A. I never said 300—I have not measured the distance—I may have said that at Bow Street.
JOHN EARP . I am a law stationer, and live at 28, Cursitor Street—I was in company with the last witness—my attention was attracted by the rate at which the vans passed, which induced me to make a remark to my friend—the rate of speed was not slackened—I did not see the accident myself—I saw the child lying in the gutter afterwards—I should say the van passed at the rate of seven miles an hour—I have often rode in vehicles.
Cross-examined. Q. I believe what you said before was, that you did not see the accident, the vans had turned the corner? A. Yes—I could not tell whether the accident was in Portugal Street or in Portsmouth Street.
---- BIDDLE. I live in Gilbert's Passage, and am a journeyman hatter—I went with the witness Chapple to the hospital, on Sunday morning, and he pointed out to me the body of the little girl he had picked up—it was my daughter, Susan Biddle—she had been a healthy child up to the time of the accident.
Cross-examined. Q. Was she out in charge of anyone on this night? A. They go over there every Saturday with my eldest girl, to put a few halfpence in Twiring's Bank—she was not in charge of anyone at this time—my eldest daughter was about eight years old; she was not with her it the time—the deceased was four years and two months old.
Cross-examined. Q. Could you say what part of the child was run over? A. The upper part of the back, across the chest—there was no appearance of its having been crushed against the kerb—there were no bruises on the
skin—had she been crushed against the kerb, in all probability the skin would have been broken, but I can't say with certainty—I could not swear that the wheel had gone over the child.
COURT. Q. If it had, must not the child have been crushed to a mummy? A. Very possibly it might have been, but children's bones are so elastic they resist a great deal of pressure—I should imagine she would not have presented the appearance she did if the waggon had gone over her—the fracture of the spine might have been caused by a blow—we had no post-mortem examination, as the Coroner would not allow it, so I cannot be so sure upon these points—in my opinion the wheel had not gone over her.
SAMUEL MITCHELL . (Policeman F 69). I went to the spot and afterwards to the hospital, where I saw the child dead—I saw the prisoner there—he was pointed out to me, and I took him into custody upon this charge—he said nothing—I asked his name and he gave me his name and address.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you attend the inquiry before the Coroner? A. Yes—I was not examined—the verdict found at the Inquest was "Accidental death."
MR. MOODY. Q. I believe all the witnesses who have been examined to-day were not examined before the Coroner? A. I believe not.
MR. BRINDLEY. called the following witnessed for the Defence.
THOMAS LACK . I keep a public-house at the junction of Portugal Street and Portsmouth Street—there are a number of pillars in front of my house, close to the roadway—I was at my 'door when the accident happened—I saw the van driven by the prisoner with four baulks of timber in it, with another van behind it—they were coming at the rate of five miles per hour, out the jog trot—when they were coming to the corner they pulled up for the purpose of turning the corner—the very outside of the pace at which they turned the corner I should imagine was about three miles and a half an hour—it was walking at a slow walk—I had seen the children opposite my house some time before, and had been out several times for the purpose of turning them away—I saw them there at the time the first van was going past the corner—the little girl was standing about three feet round the corner in Portsmouth Street, right opposite my house—I looked under the van as it was passing—I should say the fore wheel was about 18 inches from the kerb—I saw the child stooping forward, as it were; that caused me to look towards the van—I can't say positively whether she stooped or slipped—the kerb is rather worn there—she fell—the fore wheel appeared to touch her, and the hind wheel went over her—had she remained on the pavement the accident could not have happened—I should think it would be impossible for a van of timber 27 feet long to go at the rate of seven miles an hour there without coming into collision with my house—I did not hear any outcry to the driver till after the accident—he pulled up at the next house, but afterwards pulled further up, to make more room for the other van—I should say he could not possibly be a more careful driver, to have turned the corner as he did—I did not know the prisoner before.
Cross-examined by MR. MOODY. Q. I think you said before the Magistrate that you had particular reasons for noticing closely? A. Yes—that was because I fully expected the accident was going to happen, the children being playing there—I saw the child—she left the position and walked
towards the van when the van was coming down towards the child—imagining that the child was likely to leave its position I then stooped to watch it—I did not call out to the driver, in fact I could not, for I was in such a state at the time—the fore wheel of the van struck the child—the witness Pullen had been in my house that night—I will swear I went out of my house before I heard any screaming—I did not see Pullen outside the house until after the child was picked up—I went to give evidence on the Monday morning after the accident, but was not called on—no one has called on me on behalf of the prisoner since the occurrence.
JAMES HOLDER . I am a blacksmith, and live at 35, Carey Street—I was coming along Portugal Street on this night and saw the prisoner driving the van of timber—at the time he passed me I was about 100 yards from the corner of Portsmouth Street—he was going about four or four and a half miles an hour—I saw Pullen about ten minutes after the accident, and heard him say that the driver was not at all to blame.
THOMAS HOOPER . I am a bricklayer, at 5, Gilbert's Passage—I was looking out of my first-floor window on the night in question, and saw the van coming up Portugal Street, with timber on it; as it came to the corner it slackened its pace—I should think it could not turn the corner with the timber it had got at more than three miles an hour—I do not know the prisoner—I saw nothing of the accident—I kept my eye on the van till it had got out of Portugal Street—there was no child run over in Portugal Street.
NOT GUILTY .
NOT GUILTY .
MR. BRINDLEY. conducted the Prosecution.
MARY ANN BECKETT . I live at No. 2, George Yard, Golden Lane—I am a widow—I have known the prisoner about five weeks—ho has been living with me—on Monday, 3rd May, we went to bed about 12 o'clock—the prisoner had been drinking in the day, but was not drunk—we had a quarrel on the Friday before, about some man who had been home with me—a short time after we had been in bed on the Monday night, he got out; I told him there was somebody calling him—when he had been out of bed a minute or two, I said, "Tom, it's only a joke, you had better get into bed again"—he got on the side of the bed, put his hand on my forehead, and drew a knife across my throat; I bled directly—it was in the dark, I could not see the knife—I jumped out of bed, unlocked the door, and ran down stairs into the court—I went into a lodging-house where I used to live, and from there I was taken to the hospital—the prisoner had threatened before this that he would cut my throat; the last time he said it wan about 11 o'clock that same night—he assigned no reason for it then—he had said before, it was because he found me in bed with another young man.
Prisoner. Q. Were you hit more than once with the knife? A. No, it was done with one cut—you did not prevent my opening the door and going out, or attempt to touch me.
WILLIAM RICHARDS . I live at 2, George Yard, Golden Lane—I heard the witness scream, and saw her come running down stairs with her hands up to her throat; but she made a laughing-stock at the bottom of the court, went into a lodging house, and said, "Oh, he has cut my throat"—I went up
stairs with the constable, and saw the prisoner lying oil his back on the bed, with his throat cut.
ROBERT OUTRAM . (City Policeman, 175). I saw the prosecutrix about 1.30 on the morning of 4th May, at the corner of Golden Lane, in her night-dress, with her hands up to her throat, crying—I saw blood all down the front—I took her at once to the hospital.
HENRY TODD . (Policeman G 142). About 1.30 on the morning of 4th May, I was called to this house—I saw the prosecutrix coming out of the door bleeding; she had both hands up to her throat, crying, "He has cut my throat!"—I ran up stairs, and found the prisoner lying on the bed with his throat cut—I found this knife on the floor, about two yards from where he was lying—I sent for a doctor, and he was afterwards taken to the hospital.
GEORGE EUGENE YARROW . I am surgeon to the G Division of Police—on the morning of 4th May I was called to the house, 2, George Yard—I saw the prisoner in bed there—he had an incised wound in the throat, about five inches in length; the windpipe was not cut, it was merely through the skin, a superficial wound: the upper portion of the windpipe was exposed—I dressed the wound, and he was sent to the hospital—it was a dangerous wound—such a knife as this would produce it—I believe it to have been self-inflicted.
ERNEST EVANS . I am house-surgeon at St Bartholomew's—the prosecutrix was brought there on the morning of the 4th—she had a deep incised wound, about five inches and a half in length, running chiefly on the right side of the throat, laying bare the main artery on the right side, and dividing the large muscle on that side of the neck—it was a very dangerous wound—this Knife would produce it.
Prisoner's Defence. On Friday morning, when I returned from work, about 7.30, I found the prosecutrix and another man in my bed. I washed myself and went down stairs, and never said a word. On the night this occurred, as I was getting into bed, she said somebody was calling; I got up, but heard no one. I went and got my knife and some tobacco, and sat on the side of the bed, cutting it She asked me would I forgive her the affair of Friday morning. I told her I would, and to drop it. She kept pulling me, and asking me to lie down; at last I made a hit at her, forgetting I had the knife. She said I had cut her throat, and went down stairs and told the people so, and drove me regularly distracted, and I know no more till I came to myself in the hospital.
The prisoner's father and brother deposed to his good character, and alto to his mother and aunt having been insane.
GUILTY. on Second Count.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury. — Five Years' Penal Servitude.
THE COURT. was of opinion that in this case the deceased had been the aggressor, and that the prisoner only acted in self defence.
NOT GUILTY .
NEW COURT.—Friday, July 16th, 1869.
before Mr. Recorder.
MR. WOOD. conducted the Prosecution.
June, about 7 p.m., the prisoner brought me this directory—I think he said he had brought another copy belonging to another friend—I had bought one of him before—he asked 12s. for it, which was as much as it was worth—I asked him where he stole it from—he denied stealing it, with great indignation, but I handed him over to the police.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I say that a man in the neighbourhood had sent me with it for sale, and ask you to go with me? A. Yes, that was before I charged you—I left it in the hands of the police.
JAMES HALLBTT . I keep the Miter Tavern, Chancery Lane—this direc-tory is mine—my name was in it, here, in large letters, but it has been scratched out—I used to keep a leather strap round it—here is the mark of it, and it is broken inside—my barmaid lent it to someone about 5 o'clock, and I missed it a few minutes afterwards—I paid 30s. for it—I saw it again next morning—I do not know the prisoner.
JOSEPH GOWLEY . (Policeman E 170). I took the prisoner on the evening of 14th June, and charged him with being in unlawful possession of this directory—he said that it was given to him by a friend in Chancery Lane, but he did not know who he was—I asked him to give me his name and where he lived—he said that he could not.
Prisoner's Defence. A gentleman asked me to sell the book for him; I asked him where he lived; he said, "In Tottenham Court Road."
GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted of steal-ing cigars, in January, 1868, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. DALY. conducted the Protection; and MESSRS. COOPER. and DAVIN. the Defence.
FRANCIS ATTWOOD . (Policeman E 63). On 22nd June, about 1.30 o'clock, I was on duty in plain clothes, and saw the prisoner and another man—I stood at the corner of Gray's Inn Road and saw a female come down Holborn into Gray's Inn Road—the prisoner said to the other man, "Come on, she is right"—I followed them, and then pretended to be drunk, and stood against some shutters—the prisoner asked her where she was going, and put his hand in her dress pocket and then knocked her down—I took the prisoner and told another officer to take the Other man, who has escaped—I found on the prisoner two sixpences and a threepenny piece.
Cross-examined. Q. You do not mean that that was the money that was taken? A. No—the other constable was in plain clothes, and was ten or fifteen yards off when the money was taken—the prosecutrix was drunk, but she was going along very quietly—it was dark—they were both near her.
WILLIAM OLDHAMSTEAD . (Policeman E 694). I was with Attwood, in plain clothes, and saw the prosecutrix turn the corner—she was tipsy—I heard the prisoner say to another man, "Come on; she is right"—they followed her—I followed Attwood at a distance—the prisoner went up to the femaled—she shoved him away, and he knocked her down—I ran after the other man, but lost him in one of the courts, as I could not get across the road, which was up.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it dark or light? A. Dark—I was ten or twelve yards, or more, from the woman—she told me what money she had,
that was not the money found on the prisoner—she was not very drunk, she could walk well if no one interfered with her.
ELIZABETH HARRISSON . I am a widow, and lived at 14, Caledonian Road, at the time—on 22nd June, I was going home, between 1 and 2 o'clock in the morning—I turned the corner of Gray's Inn Lane, and saw the prisoner there—I had been taking a little more drink than I ought—the prisoner and another man followed me into Gray's Inn Road, and the prisoner spoke to me, and put his hand in my pocket, and then knocked me down—when I got home my money was gone, but I cannot say whether it was stolen or lost—I am sure he is the man who knocked me down—I was taken in custody—my one was safe when he spoke to me.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you ever seen the prisoner before? A. No; I was a good deal frightened and confused—I cannot say how the man was dressed.
COURT. Q. Did you see the man taken in custody? A. Yes, I am sure the man taken in custody is the one who put his hand in my pocket.
The prisoner, in his statement before the Magistrate, said that the protecutrix had solicited him to accompany her home, which he refused, and then the police-man took him.—
GUILTY .— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. TURNER. conducted the Prosecution; and MESSRS. BROOKS. and DAVIN.
JOHN WHITE . (Policeman, N 150). On the night of 29th April, I was on duty in Marquis Road, Canon bury—St Paul's church is in that road—I saw the prisoner and another man getting over the gates, out of the church-yard—I followed them a long distance, down to the Royal William public-house—I did not go in there—I called "Stop thief!"and some civilian followed them in—I apprehended the prisoner just outside the public-house—a mob assembled and rescued him in the same spot—he said that he was not the man—some men and one woman, who is, supposed to be his mother, rescued him—I saw him next on 14th June, at the Islington police-station, and have no doubt he is the man I apprehended—I examined the church about an hour afterwards, and found the lower part of the vestry-hall window broken, large enough for a man to enter—I found these things (produced) in the church-yard, near the gate, but had not seen the prisoner throw anything behind him.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it light or dark? A. Light enough for me to discover the broken window without a lamp, and I had plenty of light out-side the public-house—the pot-boy was called on behalf of the prisoner before the Magistrate.
COURT. Q. Had you known the prisoner before? A. Yes, for twelve months.
WILLIAM PAYNE . I am sexton of St Paul's, Ball's Pond—on the night of 29th April there had been a committee in the vestry, which communicates with the church—I found the vestry windows broken; the same night I missed two table cloths and a piece of carpet—these are them—they belong to the church—Mr. Matthews is one of the churchwardens—I saw them safe at 10.30.
Road—on the night of 29th April I saw the prisoner in the hands of the police, between the Royal George and Royal William, going from Ball's Pond church towards the station-house—he was rescued by his mother and a tall young man named M'Donald—I have known them for six years; he has been residing with his parents there, but after April 29 he was gone for several weeks, though I saw him once, and at last he was taken.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you in the habit of visiting him at his father's house? A. No. 1 know some people named Gordon—I keep company with the sister—I know William Gordon—they are respectable people—Mrs. Gordon has bid me to the house and I can bring her here to prove it—I did not assist the police when I saw them holding the prisoner, because I am not liked by the police—I have lost my tools two or three times, there are a set of thieves about the place, and I might get a job of the head—they are a lot of chaps who won't work, they are lazy and like to live by other people—there was not a little jealousy between me and the prisoner in reference to Miss Gordon—I can bring her for a witness.
MR. TURNER. Q. Are you Miss Gordon's accepted suitor? A. I believe so.
JOHN THURSTON . I am a coach painter, of 11, Essex Street—I was in the Royal George on 29th April, about 10.30—that is in the Essex Road, just before you get to St Paul's church—I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—I ran out and tried to catch one man, but lost him—I saw some one struggling with the policeman White, but cannot swear to the prisoner, because he had a white bandage on his forehead and a pair of white slippers—he appears different to what he did on that night, but he is just such another built man—he sang out" Fetch father, fetch mother!"and a woman in black came from Orchard Street, and the policeman followed her.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you examined at the Clerkenwell Police Court? A. Yes—I said then that the person who was rescued from the police was a shorter man, and I say so now, and that is the reason I will not swear to the prisoner.
MR. TURNER. Q. Did the man appear much shorter? A. No—but he ap-peared about my height—since I hare been at the Court I have had two plate glasses broken, and I am only a working man.
Witnesses for the Defence.
JAMES HAMPSON . I am potman at the Royal William public-house, Essex Road—there is a cab-rank there—on Thursday night, 29th April, I was standing outside the house, and a man drove up with a four-wheeled cab, and asked me if I knew anybody of the name of "Old Jim"—I said that I would see—I went over to the cab stand, and saw two young men jump over the church wall and run down Orchard Street, and take the first turning on the left into Dorset Street—a policeman followed them—one was a short stout, young man, with a bandage round his head, he ran into the Royal William public-house, at the middle door, and came out at the corner door, and the policeman caught him outside—he was a short young man, with a bandage round his head, very short indeed—I heard him speak—the policeman caught hold of him, and he asked him what he was going to lock him up for—he said, "Come to the station, and I will tell you"—he got one arm out of his coat, and then got the other out, and
ran down Orchard Street—the policeman fell down, and the man got away—the policeman asked me if I knew him—I said, no, I was a stranger about there, I had only been there six or seven weeks—about 11.40, I was putting up my shutters, and saw another young man, very dark, run out of Orchard Street, I could not see the policeman, or also I should have told him, as he was one of the two I had seen jump over the wall—I can swear that the prisoner was not one of these two young men—it was a clear, nice night, there was a lamp by the church wall, and the policeman's bull's-eye was turned on—I had seen the prisoner once or twice before.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see a woman try to get whoever was in the policeman's custody, away? A. No, nor anyone—I was looking at them struggling—I am always outside the Royal William, I am not allowed to go away in case my master wants me—I was close to the wall when the two men got over—the man with the bandage round his head was not quite so tall as me, and not much stouter—the bandage reached down to the tip of his eyes—he had a coat something like mine—I have seen the prisoner twice before, he is taller than me, I think, but not stouter—I associate with Jim Noonan, nobody else—I know the prisoner's father, I first visited him since the prisoner has been in prison—I swear I only saw the prisoner once before he was in prison.
MR. BROOKS. Q. You had only been in the neighbourhood a short time? A. Only five or six weeks—I never was in Ball's Pond in my life before—I was called at the Police Court to make the same statement as I have made to-day.
FRASER HOLLINGBURY . I am a carpenter, of 4, North Place, Ball's Pond Road—late on Thursday night, 29th April, I was standing at the corner of Ball's Pond Road, by a large grocer's shop, with a young woman, and saw two young ckaps run across from the church to Orchard Street, they went into a public-house, and both came out at the second door—a policeman caught the short one, and he stripped off his coat and got away—I have known the prisoner ever since we used to go to the infant school together, ten years ago, he is not one of the two men who went into the public-house.
Cross-examined. Q. Where is your shop? A. I work at Coach and Horses Lane, Newington Green, for Mr. Fouracrea—the two men did not run past me, it was fifty yards up the road further—one of them had a surgical or a hospital bandage round his head; there was blood all round it—he had a little coat with pockets here.
Q. Will you tell the Jury that, at fifty yards, at that time of night, you can swear that it was not the prisoner? A. Most certainly; the man the wireman captured was not so tall as me—I am about 5 feet 4 1/2 or 5 inches—I can say positively that the man was 4 inches shorter than me—he was running; but I had seen him an hour and a half before, walking in Ball's I'nd Road in company with another one—I took notice of him, because of the bandage round his head and the blood stains—there was not much bleeding, but he had a rare lot of bandages—they did not cover his eyes—I first saw him about 9 o'clock, standing talking, not to the same young man, but to two or three chaps I know; Farmer was one of them—he works in a coffee-shop in Ball's Pond Road—there is one shop between there and the public-house—I do not know what became of the man's jacket when it fell off, but I will swear the prisoner's mother did not take it—I know her very well; I knew her ten or eleven years ago—I visit there—I do not associate with convicted thieves—I always worked for me living
—I knew at fifty yards that it was not the prisoner, because I am so accustomed to his walk and to his run when we used to play about.
MR. BROOKS. Q. How many people did you see standing at the corner of the street? A. Two—after that I saw the short chap in the hands of the police, and a mob round—I was standing at the corner till they captured him, and then I ran down to see who it was, and saw the man get his jacket off and give the policeman the slip.
COURT. Q. In what direction were the two men running, followed by the policeman? A. From the corner of the church towards Orchard Street—the policeman caught one of them—I saw the prisoner one Sunday night a fortnight after 29th April—he lived in Orchard Street.
Q. Then for a fortnight you did not see him? A. Well, when I come home I sometimes do not go out again—I do not know whether he was living at home; I never went to his house.
WILLIAM GORDON . I am a painter, of Orchard Street, Ball's Pond—on Thursday evening, 29th April, I was at Mr. Turner's, 22, Orchard Street—I went there at 7.30, and left at 10.55—I saw the prisoner there, and his father, his two sisters, and his little brother—I had supper there, and left him there with his father, sisters, brother, and mother, at 10.55—the prisoner was with me all the evening—I met him at 6 o'clock; we went for a walk, and had some porter at the Crown—I got there at 7.30, and stayed in the house till I proposed to go home—Collis visits at our house—I remember about the time the prisoner was taken, 14th June, I had seen him about four days a week before that—I am quite sure he was not keeping out of the way, because we used to go out and look for work together.
Cross-examined. Q. On this evening you met the prisoner and his father, and went out to walk? A. I was with his father, and met the prisoner; he walked up St Paul's Road and into the Crown—he stopped there an hour and a half, and then came straight home to Turner's house—I went to bed that night at 11 o'clock—I will swear I was not in bed at 10.30, I was getting into bed as the clock was striking 11—I asked Mr. Turner the time when I left—he said "Five minutes to eleven" and I walked straight across the road and undressed myself, and as I was getting into bed the clock struck 11—I cannot say what time I went to bed the night before, I usually go to bed at 11, unless I go to a place of amusement—I never went to bed earlier than 11 that week—the 29th of April was fixed in my mind, because of the young man being taken—I heard next morning that someone broke into Ball's Pond church, and that they accused Charles Turner of it—I know Hollingbury—I have never met him at Turner's house, and never saw him with the prisoner—I have known Charles Turner by going out with him to work—it might be once a fortnight that I went there, and then I would stop with them, or if it was in the morning I had a little bread and cheese, or a glass of beer, if they asked me—I have been much with the prisoner for the last two or three months—I swear I have not often seen Hollingbury with him—he was not a constant companion of the prisoner's—I saw the prisoner every morning when I went out to look for work—I was out of a situation then, but am not now—I was with him all day, going about the city, or wherever I thought I could get work—he did so about four days a week—he used to start at 9 or 10 o'clock, and come back at dinner-time, and sometimes after tea, according to the distance he walked—I did not get one job during those three months—I am a painter, and the prisoner is a baker; but I was going to try to get him a job in my
line, as a painter's labourer, during those three months—I did not ace Hollingbury with the prisoner, but I saw him near where the prisoner lives—I have seen him standing at the top of the street, and have seen them all talking, three or four together, but not out with him.
Q. Did you see Hollingbury talking to the prisoner? A. I have seen him standing talking to the prisoner at the top of the street, with other friends; when I said I had not, I meant not alone—I was at the Police Court the first day, but could not get in to hear the trial—I was not there the second day, I was at work.
MR. BROOKS. Q. You told my friend, that the following day you heard the prisoner was suspected of the robbery at Ball's Pond; how did you hear that? A. I heard the people talking of it in the streets, I did not tell any of the prisoner's relations about it.
COURT. Q. Did you tell the prisoner of it? A. Yes—he was then living at his father's, and I saw him, as before I used to see him, every other morning when I went to call for him at his father's house, till he was taken in custody, and the day he was taken we were out together.
ELIZABETH ELDRIDGE . I live at 19, Frederick Place, Orchard Street—on Thursday night, April 29th, about 11.15, I heard a cry of "Stop thief!"—just as they got to my door there was a very short, and rather stout man, and the police halloaed out, "Stop him, whatever you do!"—the policeman could have stopped him in another step, but he was overpowered by running—I followed them to the corner, and then the policeman lost sight of him.
Cross-examined. Q. Had von a conversation on this subject with the police sergeant? A. Yes; he asked me who it was, if it was Charles Turner—I did not say that I did not know anything about it—I said that I could not tell what was the matter up at the top—I was about the middle of the street, I could have touched the prisoner as he passed my door—it was a very short, stout chap, with his head tied up; he outran the policeman—I know the time, because I was going to bed; I had a candle hi my hand, and I said to my landlady, "There is something the matter, fire or something," and I dropped the candle—I have a clock, but I did not look at it just at that moment—I had heard the clock strike 11 about a quarter of an hour before.
COURT. Q. How far was this from the Royal William? A. The William is the next public-house—I did not see the short stout lad come out of the public-house, he came straight from the road—I could not see the public-house, it was round the corner—he ran in a direction from the public-house—he was thirty or forty yards from it when the policeman was close enough to put his hand upon him—the policeman did not catch him at all—two or three people were at the top of the street; if there tad been any men where I was standing they might have caught him—I saw the prisoner's mother going in doors just after it occurred, this brought the-neighbours out—the short stout man had no coat on—I saw no coat anywhere—the bandage looked like a white handkerchief, and I thought I saw a little blood through it—I do not know him, I had never seen him before.
ELIZA. TURNER . I am the prisoner's mother—on Thursday evening, 29th April, I was at home—my son was in the house, and William Gordon and my husband, and my two other children—it might have been 11, or a few minutes before, when Gordon left—I had to re-light a candle, and had to leave the room to do so—that is the reason I noticed the time so particularly—after he left I heard a noise in the street; my son loft the house and
I followed, and when I got into Ball's Pond Road, which is not more than 100 yards, I run into the road and got on the high pavement, and a policeman was holding a young man with a bandage on his head, who was on his knees, and the policeman had his hands upon his shoulder—he said, "Loose me, loose me," but the policeman held him, and he left his coat and ran away, and struck me on the left breast, and I was taken home insensible—I did nothing to rescue him—before that I and my son had not left the house, we were taking supper together—I have lived in the house eleven years.
Cross-examined. Q. What do you mean by being taken home insensible? A. I was taken home insensible by a strange female, in consequence of the blow I received, and my husband came and assisted—I did not take a coat home with me—I recollect nothing—I could hardly walk across the road—Gorden has known my family eleven years; he has been intimate with my son from childhood, and is a painter and glazier—he has been very much with my son of late, and has been coming in and out of our house as if it was his home—he had been employed, but my son was not, and they spent their evenings together—he may have come there five days a week for the last thirteen months—I cannot tell you Gordon's employer's name, but I know he has had work from him for the last three months and more.
Q. Would there be truth in the statement, if it was made, that your son and Gordon have gone out four days a week to look for work together? A. Yes, and oftener than that, but not since Gordon has been employed—they have been out together three or four mornings a week, but I have not calculated the time—it is about five weeks since the occurrence.
COURT. Q. During that time were they out looking for work together? A. Yes—they have been in the habit of going out together three or four days a week while Gordon was in work—Gordon has not been employed where he is more than 17 weeks, and before that he was in the habit of going out four or five mornings every week.
MR. TURNER. Q. Did your son sleep at home that night? A. He did—I went to light the candle, and my husband asked me the time, particularly as it was getting late—we have a clock—since 29th April the prisoner has been living chiefly at home; he has been at home five days out of the seven—he has asked us for money to go into the country to look for a job, and we have given it to him—I know Hollingbury, he was often out with my son and Gordon.
COURT. Q. Do you mean the three together? A. Yes—my son has been at home at all hours of the day since 29th April—my son went out first on that night—I followed him, and my husband did not come till the affair was over—he saw me being led home insensible.
WILLIAM M'CARTHY . I am a lather of buildings—my last employer was Mr. Williams, of the Amherst Arms, last week—on Thursday, 29th April, I was standing with a young gentleman (Alfred Weasby) against the Royal George—we heard a scuffling in the road, and a scream, and a policeman had hold of a short, stoutish fellow, who after tustling, slipped his coat and ran down Orchard Street, but the policeman could not catch him—he turned to his right and then to his left, and then I came back to the Royal George.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you been employed in your present situation? A. Eight weeks; before that I was walking about, week after week—I live on my mother, a washerwoman—my work is never certain—I know Gordon and Hollingbury—I see the prisoner nearly every day—I do not often see the prisoner and Hollingbury together—I never saw the
prisoner and Gordon together—I have seen the prisoner and Hollingbury together; we are all together in town—I have often been with them together—I am not intimate with Gordon; we speak when we meet—he has, I believe, been painting for the last three months—I do not know where—I cannot swear that he has been employed throughout the day for quite three months—I daresay he has two months and a half, but I only look after my own work, I am never along with them much—I do not know what the prisoner's trade is—he has not been employed for the last three months—I am constantly with him—I have known him twelve years—he was at work at a baker's once, a long while ago, since that he has lived on his parents, I believe—during the last three months I have seen him in the afternoon, standing at the top of our own street—I have been with him sometimes, but never of a morning.
MR. BROOKS. Q. What time do you go to work? A. Six in the morn-ing, and leave off at 5.30—I work some distance from home—Gordon works quite a different road to me—I have seen him at work—I only know where he works from what he has told me.
CHARLES TURNER . I am the prisoner's father, and have lived at 22, Frederick Place, Orchard Street, twelve years—I am an engraver, and work for Messrs. Eady, of Red Lion Street—I went there in 1852, and am still in their employment—on Thursday evening, 29th April, I was at home with my son and young Gordon, who lives right opposite—Gordon left my house as near 11 o'clock as possible, I cannot say within a few minutes—he only had a drop of beer in my house he left in my house my son, my wife, and my two children, and after he had gone we were going to bad, and I heard a disturbance—my son—ran out, and his mother followed—I crossed over to a neighbour, and inquired what was the matter—I saw a man run down the street, without a coat or waistcoat, and a white bandage over his head; he was a short, thick-set man, I can positively say it was not my son—I did not go out five minutes after my son, because I had only to put a coat on—my son came home between 7 and 8 o'clock that evening.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he at home from 7 till 11 o'clock? A. Yes, about that; I cannot positively say what time he came in—Gordon came in about 8 o'clock—I was in the house the whole time—Gordon remained to supper with us, and was there till about 11 o'clock, when he ran across the road—I went to the door with him, and opened it for him, and he ran right in doors—I and my son, and Gordon, went out together that evening, and came back—we were not out half-an-hour.
COURT. Q. What time did you come back? A. It could not be much before 8 o'clock—Gordon never went out of the house that night—I heard on the Monday or Tuesday that my son was accused of this, but the police came on Saturday morning, and I showed them all over the place, and one of them, the chap over there, wanted to accuse me of it—I told them my son was not there—he had gone into the country on Friday, and I think he came back on Monday or Tuesday—he sleeps in the front parlour when he is at home, and I go out of a morning and do not always see him—when I told him of it, he said "I have a good mind to walk up to the police-station and show myself"—the police came once afterwards and marched the house—I will not be positive whether it was on the Monday—my son was not at home then—they did not come again to my knowledge, but I am away all day—he slept at home on Thursday night, and I was at
the top of the street till past 12 o'clock—as I was talking to a neighbour, Home strange female brought my wife down the street, she said afterwards that some strange man ran against her—I saw a man running, with a bandage on his head.
MR. BROOKS. Q. Were you here last Session? A. Yes—I did not see my son in Court as a witness, but I saw him outside the Old Court.
COURT. to JOHN WHITE. Q. When the man was rescued from you, did he slip his coat? A. Yes, and the prisoner's mother took the coat away—I saw her in the mob—I am sure she is the person; I recognized her when we searched the house—I mentioned this at the Police Court—the man had a handkerchief tied round his forehead—I went to the house to search for him, with Sergeant Witham, the following night or Saturday morning, but not after that—I have been trying to find him ever since, and have been about Ball's Pond, in plain clothes, but never saw him till 14th June—I saw no coat when I searched the house—I have said all along, at Clerken-well and everywhere, that I saw the prisoner's mother carrying away the coat—I did not see her walk into her house; I had just come from the front of her house.
JURY. Q. You say that she rescued her son, did she take him home? A. He dropped his arms out of the coat, and the prisoner dropped the coat.
COURT. to ALBERT COLLIS. Q. You said that he was rescued by his mother and McDonald, who is McDonald? A. A tall young man—he has not been here to-day; there is only one here, who insults me—I saw the prisoner's mother carry the coat away; it was a little round coat, with pockets similar to mine.
MR. BROOKS. to JOHN WILTSHIRE. Q. What did he say when you took him in custody? A. He said he was not the man, and McDonald threatened to rescue him from my custody, and said, "Charley, shall the b—r take you?"—I said, "I have plenty of assistance, and you will have to go"—I was looking for him for six weeks; I went to the house twice, and once I went to the top of the street, and the father came out—I could not learn anything about the prisoner.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HANDLET. conducted the Prosecution.
GEORGE DELMAR MARTIN . I am landlord of the Green Man, Featherstone Street—on 13th June, between 2.30 and 3 o'clock, I was aroused, and went and searched my cellar; I then went up and searched the bar, and found the prisoner secreted behind the bar—I asked him what he was doing there—he said, "I am drunk, let me go "—I said, "If you come this way, I will let you out"—I took him to the door, and he lifted up two bolts and rushed into the street—I afterwards found the trap unfastened—I had seen it fast with two bolts the previous day, but did not see it at night—it would take two men to lift the trap, it weighs nearly one hundred weight.
Prisoner. Q. Where is the entrance from the cellar to the house? A. Inside the bar, and the door was open between the inside and outside of the bar, where I found you.
WILLIAM FELOATE . (Policeman G 118). I was on duty on the 13th, and saw that Mr. Martin's cellar flap had been broken open, which was safe twenty minutes "before—I rang the bill, Mr. Martin came down and let
me in, but we could see nothing wrong—as be let me out at one door the prisoner bolted out at the other—I chased him, and he was stopped by another constable—I searched him at the station and found a knife and some matches on him—the cellar bolts were forced, and have hood to be repaired.
HENRY MONK . (Policeman G 190). I was on duty in Coleman Street at a little before 3 a.m., heard a rattle spring, and saw the prisoner and Felgate running up Banner Street—I caught the prisoner, he pulled this jemmy out of his pocket and placed it on the window sill—Felgate came up and searched him.
He was further charged with having been before convicted at this Court in June, 1868, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. BROOKS. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BBOMLEY. the Defence.
JAMES HORAN . I live at Portpool Lane, Holborn—on Monday night, I think about 8.30., the prisoner came to my mother's room—my father had had his tea and was going down stairs, and left the door open—my mother went to close the door and the prisoner swore at her and pulled out a knife and struck her with it on the forehead and cheek—I halloaed "Murder!"out at the window—my mother was all over blood, and was taken to St Bartholomew's hospital.
Cross-examined. Q. Was anybody else in the house? A. No—I know a man named Williams, he is not a relation of mine, unless it is by marriage—he took the knife out of my mother's hand and out her thumb—my mother had pulled the knife out of the prisoner's hand—the knife had not been hanging by the mantelpiece, we do not always keep a carving knife hanging there, we keep the knives on the dresser—my mother closed the door in Williams' face, so as not to lot him in, but he could see what was done before the door was shut—the prisoner lost her grandchild a little while before, it was run over in the street—she has to pass our house to go to her daughter's—she was passing to go to the poor mother of the child which was killed—she and my mother had not a quarrel—mother was having her tea.
COURT. Q. You say that your mother shut the door against Williams, how did he take the knife out of her hand? A. She slipped on our landing, and the door was opened; when mother dropped she had the knife, and Williams jumped over the prisoner, took the knife out of mother's liand, and closed the door.
JULIA HORAN . The prisoner is my aunt—she followed me in Leather Lane, at 2 o'clock on this day, and called me all manner of names—I did not answer her—she said she would serve Newgate for me—about 7 or 8 in the evening, she came to my place, my husband left the door ajar, and I got up and closed it; she saw me, and said, "There you are, you b—y thing, I will do you"—I said, "Go along, you toothless old oat"—the first blow she gave me was on my forehead, it stunned me; the second blow she gave me, I laid hold of a knife; the sister-in-law said, "Leave go of the knife" and I did so—as I was fulling I kept hold of her shawl, and she tried to bite my hand—I was taken to the hospital.
Cross-examined. Q. Have not you been sent to prison for six months, for striking a woman on the head with a candlestick? A. No; the woman hit me, and I hit her back, and I had to go to prison for six months—I
never hit a woman with a pewter pot, this is the first time I have been in trouble like this—I have hit nobody else, unless my husband and myself have had words—I do not take part in rows in the street, I like to mind my own business—I have never hit a woman on the head with a pewter pot, or with a poker, or tongs—the prisoner's grandchild was run over the same evening, but it was not hurted, it is running about the streets now—when the prisoner came into my room, I had the lid of a pot in my hand, with a drop of water in it, I did not hit her with it, oven by accident—but as she gave me the second blow, it fell out of my hand—I did not drag her into a room by her hair, shut the door, and prevent Williams coming in.
HUMPHREY LLOYD WILLIAMS , I am a house surgeon at St. Bartholomew's—the prosecutrix was brought there in a state of collapse, with two large incised wounds on her face—she had lost a good deal of blood—they must have been inflicted by a sharp cutting instrument—there was also a bruise on her left wrist.
Cross-examined. Q. Were the wounds such as might have happened in a scuffle and struggle for a knife? A. I think it highly improbable, but it is within the bounds of possibility—they must have been done with considerable force, and the knife must have been firm.
The Prisoner's statement before the Magistrate.—My grandchild was run over last Monday fortnight I followed to her house, and as I passed the prosecutrix said, "I wish it had been killed on the spot." I said, "I wish you had been killed instead of the mother of the child. "She struck me on the head with a pot lid and pulled me by the hair of the head into her room. Then she lifted a knife that stands before her fireplace and stabbed me on the head. She made a second attempt to stab, and I put up my hands. I dashed the knife into her face.
Witness for the Defence.
THOMAS WILLIAMS . I am a carman, of Portpool Lnne, Holborn—the prosecutrix is my aunt—I was in her house, and the prisoner was coming up stairs talking about her grandson being run over, when the prosecutrix came to the door and said she wished the boy was dead—they colled one another bad names, and the prosecutrix ran to the stove and got the lid of a pot and struck the prisoner over the head with it, and dragged her into the prosecutrix's bed room by her hair—I did not go into the room—I went up stairs and had my tea—the door was shut—I know the prosecutrix; she has been in prison for six months for using a candlestick.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see any knives used? A. No—I did not take a knife from anybody; what the boy says is false—I could not see into the room when the door was shut—I did not sec the blow struck.
CATHERINE VALL . I live in the house—I was going up stairs, and the prisoner went up saying, "Oh, my poor child, my poor child "—the prosecutrix opened the door and said, "I wish you were dead instead of the child;" and she ran and got the lid of the pot and struck her with it, and they had hold of one another's hair, and had a fight.
Cross-examined. Q. You saw no knife? A. No—I saw Mrs. Horan come out with her face cut and bleeding—I was not in the room, I was at the door—it was open.
GUILTY. of unlawfully wounding. — Six months Imprisonment.
MR. WOOD. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. LEIGH. the Defence.
JANE FRISBY . I am the prosecutor's wife; he is a draper, of 77, Norfolk Terrace, Westbourne Grove—the prisoner was in our service—the morning after she left I found a roll of black satin ribbon and a pair of new stocking wrapped up in the bed clothes, and 3 1/2 yards of lace in her bonnet box.
Cross-examined. Q. How long was she in your service? A. Seven weeks—it was arranged with the matron of the home from whence she came that we were to give her 8/. a year—she was not to serve in the shop, the was servant of all work—we only had one servant—the people who serve in the shop vary from ten to twelve—there are no males but two lads—nine or ten servants are boarded and lodged in the house—my husband turned the prisoner away one Sunday night—I did not see when ahe came that she had some calico not made up.
JAMES HENRY FRISBY . I am a draper, of 77, Norfolk Terrace, Westbourne Grove—the prisoner was in my service about seven weeks—on a Sunday morning, I think it was June 27th, I came home rather early from chapel, and before I got in I heard someone walking out at the shop door, close it, turn the key, and run down stairs—I accused the prisoner of having been in the shop; she denied it—I asked her for the key; she said that she had not got it—I said that I knew she had, and if she did not give it to me I should give her in charge—she then said that she had been in the shop, and she thought she must be under a planet, because she could not help furraging about—I asked her for the key; she said that it was up in the sitting-room—I said, "Go and find it"—I followed her—she raised a book on the table, and said, "There is the key"—she begged me to forgive her—I let her go for the present, but gave her in charge in the even-ing—these stockings are the same make as I had in stock, my peculiar custom is to ticket at the heel; the tickets have been torn off, but the stitches are left—this flannel is make peculiar to our trade, I do not know any other shop in London that keeps it—I had it in stock at this time—I identify this silk and the dress-piece, and this tweed cloth—I had such articles in stock, and missed them, and this piece of calico has my figures, 6 1/2 d., on it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you not know that she had calico in her possession? A. No, she very seldom bought goods in the shop—I expect that people in my service will buy at my shop, and they are in the habit of doing so—she has bought goods there once—a hundred drapers in London have similar goods to these—the prisoner never served in the shop—I came from chapel earlier than usual, because my wife was ill; it was providential—I only missed one article before this charge was made—some of these things were only bought within two or three weeks—I only identify them as the same description of things as I sell.
HENRY CHASE . I am assistant to Mr. Boyce, a pawnbroker, of Theobald's Road—I produce certain articles pawned by three different persons, on 28th June, two in the name of Moore, and one in the name of Tomlins—I recognize Mary Map stead and Julia Moore as the persons who pledged the articles for 2l. 15s., 30s., and 7s.—I never saw the prisoner—there was a piece of calico in the parcel.
red flannel, and a piece of silk to me, and asked me if I would pawn them for her; I did so, at Mr. Voysey's.
JULIA MOORE . I live at 3, Princes Street, Red Lion Square—the prisoner gave me this stuff and velvet, and other articles—I pawned them for 7s., at Mr. Boyce's, and gave her the money—I also pawned this flannel and calico, and three pairs of stockings, at a pawnbroker's in Holborn, for 2s. 6d.
ELIZABETH HAMMILL . I live at 8, Richmond Place, Lamb's Conduit Street—on 28th June I pawned, in the name of Moore, some silk and some tweed, at Mr. Boyce's, for 2l. 15s.—Mrs. Mapstead and Julia Moore asked me to-pawn them, and I gave the money to Mrs. Mapstead, in Julia Moore's presence.
Cross-examined Q. You pawned them in your wrong name? A. I was not going to give my name when they did not belong to me.
Cross-examined. Q. You only know them by the ticket, you do not mark each piece of goods? A. No, I pin a ticket outside the bundle.
DAVID WOOLMER . (Policeman X 274). The prisoner was given into my charge—the female searcher gave me this waist belt, two pairs and a half of gloves, this piece of lace, and a purse with about 2s. 8d. in it—the prisoner was not present.
J. H. FRISBY. (re-examined) I identify part of these articles—I did not give authority to anyone to pawn them—my partner's figures are inside these gloves.
GUILTY . It was stated that the prisoner had been sentenced to penal servitude, and was out on a ticket of leave— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
THIRD COURT.—Friday, July 16th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. BESLEY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. RIBTON. the Defence.
THOMAS LILLEY . I live at Cambridge Street, Wellingboro'—before 28th January, I was indebted to Mr. Nancy 2l. 5s.—on that day I paid the prisoner at my place of business—this is the receipted bill (produced)—I received a letter from Mr. Nancy after the payment—I only received one.
Cross-examined. Q. The goods were sold on 28th December, 1868, were they not? A. Yes—I never saw the prisoner before he came in December, and I only saw him again in January, when I paid him—I paid him in money.
MR. BESLET. Q. Whoever it was you paid, wrote that receipt? A. Yes.
JAMES YOUNG . I live at Park Street, Wellingboro'—previous to 16th January last, I was indebted to Mr. Nancy 6l., after deducting something for goods returned—I paid the prisoner 6l., and he gave me this receipt—he
signed it in my presence—after I paid him I received two letters from Mr. Nancy—I think I answered them—this letter (produced) is in my own handwriting—I sent that to Mr. Nancy, on 22nd May, in reply to the first letter I received from him—that was the first time I was aware that Mr. Nancy was claiming 6l. from me.
Cross-examined. Q. I suppose you have had many other transaction with him? A. That was the only one—the amount of the bill was 12l. 10s.—I returned goods to the value of 6l. 10s. two or three day before I paid the prisoner 6l.—he made the deduction himself—he told me they had been returned—I paid him six sovereigns.
MR. BBSLET. Q. Had you seen him between the time the order was given and his calling for the 6l? A. No—I never saw him after I paid him the 6l.
THOMAS LILLEY . (re-examined) I don't know whether this was the letter received from Mr. Nancy—I was in the country at the time—this at the back was the answer written by my clerk—I am not aware that I received any other letter than this.
JOSIAH RICHARDSON . I live at 36, Upper Mount, Northampton, and an a shoe-manufacturer—just before the 10th February, I was indebted to Mr. Nancy 3l. 9s.—on the 19th of March, I paid the prisoner 3l. 7s. 3d., taking off 1s. 9d. for discount—this (produced) is the receipt—he signed it in my shop—after the payment I received one letter from Mr. Nancy, and I think Mr. Chapman sent me one—I did not answer it—I did not come to London between the 19th March and my coming to the Police Court as a witness—I have not been in London for fifteen yean—I never supped at Mr. Chapman's house in London.
JOHN NANCY . I carry on business as a commission agent and exporter of goods, at 30, Hatton Garden—the prisoner was employed by me as a traveller, at 1l. per week and 2 1/2 percent commission on sales effected—he travelled for me to Northampton and other places—he had to collect money for me—my terms were 2 1/2 percent discount or three months' bill—he went to Northampton nearly every week—on an average three times a month—I never received from him 6l. paid by Mr. Young on the 16th January—I know the prisoner's handwriting—I believe this receipt to be in his handwriting—I did not receive on the 28th January 2l. 3s. out of the 2l. 5s. owing from Mr. Lilley—I believe this to be the prisoner's handwriting to this receipt—I never received 3l. 7s. 3d., from him after the 19th March on account of Mr. Richardson—this receipt is also in his handwriting—it was his duty to account for the moneys he had received after he returned from his journey—he never accounted to me for those sums—I remember the Northampton accounts being prepared to be sent into the country after the 19th March—the prisoner, my clerk, Mr. Rickard, and myself were, present when they were ready for the post—the prisoner volunteered to post the letters—he said, "I am going out, and I will post them as I go "—he took them out with him—I sent a letter a few weeks after to each of those persons—I had had no answer in the interval—I received this letter from Mr. Young on 22nd May—that was the first time I knew of the 6l. being paid—I also received a letter from Mr. Lilley's clerk—I was not aware that he had paid till the receipt of that letter—on the 5th or 6th May, I was at Northampton with the prisoner—I told him I thought I should call on Mr. Hichardson for the small account I had against him—he said, "It is no use going, Mr. Richardson is in town, and he supped at my house last night."
Cross-examined. A. Was there any written agreement between you and the prisoner? A. No—he had to charge me for his own expenses—he has been in my service since 19th November, 1868—I have my books here—it was his duty to account to me when he returned from a journey—he was at Northampton on the 16th January—he returned three or four days after—the books would not show when he returned—he did not settle with me when he came back—he had not received any money—he came back without any money at all—there were very few accounts due then—I had two or three other customers at Northampton, besides Mr. Young—the prisoner sold some goods and got bills from some—I was ill when he came back from hit journey, in January—I was ill for three months, and attended very little to my business—I had no clerk to help me then, only a young lad—the prisoner went from my place, and I saw him when he returned—he gave me the orders, but not the accounts—he gave me some bills, but no money—sometimes he gave me an account of his journey, in writing; sometimes he did not—he did not give me a written account in January—he was in Northampton on the 14th January—he sold some goods to Mr. Penny on that day—he accounted for those things when he returned to London—they have not been paid for since—I have received bills for them, and have discounted them—they have not been paid—100l. or more was due to me in Northampton when he went in January—I gave him instructions to get it for me—he brought me back a bill from Mr. Beeby, that journey—he did not bring any cash, they were bills of exchange—I have not got my bill-book here—I made the entries in my bill-book at the time I sent the bill to be accepted—I can swear he did not pay me any money—he said he had not received any—6l. was the only sum he did receive at that time—he received Mr. Lilley's account later in January, on the 28th; when he re-turned from that journey he gave me the orders, and said he had not received any money—the 28th was Thursday, and he would return on the following Saturday—he gave me a cheque from Wood Brothers on that occasion, for 8l. 7s. 3d.—he brought me two bills then, one of 15l. and the other 20l.—there was no other money, or it would be entered here—there is a cash entry, on March 22nd, from Mr. Eyre, a customer at Wellingboro'—Mr. Chapman received that for me—there is also cash 36l. 1s. 6d., from Mr. Bailey—Chapman accounted to me for that—he received that at Northampton, and paid it to Mr. Eyre to take up his bill—his bill was 65l. odd—the prisoner received his salary every Saturday—he did not pay him-self—he received 5l. at a time, sometimes a cheque, sometimes money—I never had any settlement with him with regard to commission—I paid him on account about 80l. altogether—he furnished me with an account of his expenses about the end of December—I said, "I have no time to look over it, there is 10l., and we will settle it after"—this is the account he gave me in December, the sum is 327l.—"To money received: 8l. commission, wages 6l., travelling expenses 9l." that would be 23l. then there is 13l. cash received, leaving a balance of 10l.—the account was cleared in Decem-ber—I went on for six weeks, or more, without settling accounts with the prisoner—I know a person of the name of Cockerill—I have seen him once at my house—on that occasion I gave the prisoner 4l. to go and buy me a coat, as I had not got a black one—he bought some goods for me, but I paid for them on delivery—I did not turn to Cockerill and laugh, and say I owed Chapman a lot of money—I said I thought it would be best to have a settlement—Chapman never said that he had received any money from
Young—I told Cookerill that Chapman could sell goods better than I did myself, and I should take him to France with me—while he was on his journey he used to send me up bills, not money; he may have sent me a cheque once or twice—I received a cheque for 19l. 16s. from him, on account of Messrs. Turner Brothers, of Northampton—that was on 25th January—he used to take up bills for me—he used to get accommodatioin bills for me—they were not paid—they are now in the hands of the holder till I pay them—I discounted them, and got the money—the amount of them is about 100l. altogether—Chapman's name was on the bills—he sent me some bills from Northampton, and left a blank for me to sign my name—his account was settled in March—he remained with me nine or ten months after that, till the beginning of May—I wrote to the prisoner every day when he was on his journey—sometimes twice a day—I was ill for some time—I used to attend at the office for a couple of hours a day then.
MR. BESLEY. Q. You have been asked about Mr. Beeby, what is he? A. A shoe manufacturer, at Northampton—he came to London in January, and established a branch business—I supplied him with goods to the amount of 102l. 3s. 6d., which Chapman got orders for—he has net paid me a farthing.
VICTOR RICKARD . I entered Mr. Nancy's service on 15th March last—I saw the prisoner from time to time at Mr. Nancy's office—I remember a letter being addressed to Mr. Young, of Wellingboro'—I made out the state-ment in the prisoner's presence—the prisoner directed the letter, and volunteered to post it, and took it away with him—that was in the beginning of April—a statement was sent to Mr. Liiley afterwards—Mr. Richardson's statement was sent the same time as Mr. Young's—the prisoner directed that letter, and took it out to post—he never paid any money to me.
Cross-examined. Q. Was he in the habit of taking letters to the post? A. He did several times—he was not obliged to—Mr. Nancy gave me a list of the persons I was to send statements to—the prisoner was present when I wrote them—Mr. Nancy had left—Mr. Nancy has a junior clerk in the office—he knows nothing about these accounts—he used generally to take the letters to the post.
Mr. BESLEY. Q. You say the prisoner was present when the statements were going through? A. Yes—I got the amounts from the prisoner, as well as from the books—I put questions to him at each item—he did not say anything about having received the money from Young, Liiley, or Richardson—he said they were still due.
Witness for the Defence,
GEORGE COOKERILL . I am the prisoner's brother-in-law—I was with him at Mr. Nancy's, on 20th February last—I saw Mr. Nancy hand Chapman three or four sovereigns—just before he gave them to him, he said that he would give him a little money but that he was very short of money at that time, and whatever more he required he must find it, and pay it to him-self—he said, "All right, sir, I have received some money from Mr. Young"—he said, "Well never mind about that, you must have some money for you can't buy goods and pay for them for me without money"—he then turned round to me and laughed, and said that Mr. Chapman had been so good, that he had been buying goods for him and paying money for them, I should think I must owe him nearly 40l."—I don't remember any other name being mentioned betides Young—I am sure he mentioned Young's name—I
did mot hear anything about any other customers—Mr. Chapman went out of the room for a time, and Mr. Nancy then said to me, "Mr. Chapman is the best man I ever had in my life, he is such a good salesman; he can sell goods faster than I can buy them, and he is a better judge at buy-ing than I am myself; I intend to take him to France with me."
Cross-examined Q. You are related to the prisoner? A. Yes—he married my sister four or four or five years ago—I was not in Court here on the 7th January, 1861—I don't remember that I saw the prisoner in 1861, 1862, 1863 and 1864—I did not vi it him anywhere—I did not know him till he kept company with my sister—it was since 1861 that they were married—he kept company with my sister six months—I never knew Mr. Young—the 20th February was the first occasion I heard any conversation between Mr. Nanoy and the prisoner—I know nothing about the prisoner's affairs—I don't know that there is any witness here to speak to his character.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. A. B. KILLT. conducted the Prosecution and MR. PATER. defended. Courtney.
GEORGE GARDINER . I am a labourer, and live at St Giles'—about 2 o'clock on Wednesday morning, the 9th June, I was in George Street, St. Gilee'—I was crossing the road just by my house—there were a lot of fellows at the corner of Church Lane—they met me before I could cross the road, pushed me back and took 4d. from my hand, which I was going to pay my landlady—they then threw me down and most dreadfully knocked me about in the face with their fists—there were a great many of them at the corner, but two or three ran away—they knelt on my stomach after I fell down—they all ran away, and someone came up and assisted me—I can't swear to any of the prisoners being the men—Lee was one of them, I think—I can't swear that he hit me.
Cross-examined. by MR. PATER. Q. Was the 4d., taken out of your hand, or did it fall out? A. It was pulled out—they grasped my hand and took it away.
FREDERICK RICHARDSON . I live in George Street, St Giles'—about 2 o'clock in the morning, 9th June, my landlady called me up and I went to the door—I saw the four prisoners outside—Lee and Driscoll were kneeling on the prosecutor who was on the ground—the other two prisoners were standing by—when they saw me they ran away—I went towards them—I picked the prosecutor up, and took him to the station; he was insensible and bleeding from the mouth—the four prisoners ran away—I was present when Driscoll was apprehended—I gave information to the police—I knew their names and knew them very well by sight—I was present when Cronin and Lee were apprehended—I pointed them out to the constable.
Cross-examined by MR. PATER. Q. You say you know the prisoner Court-ney? A. I do—he is a crossing-sweeper, I believe—I could not say that he was at his crossing up to the very day he was taken into custody—I believe he was taken into custody from his crossing—there was no crowd round the man when he was knocked down—I daresay there were two others—not more—it was not very light—it was 2 o'clock in the morning—it was not dark—there was a lamp right opposite—I have never been in trouble myself—I gave information for four of them to be apprehended, and named them—I
told the constable that the crossing-sweeper was one of the persons standing near the prosecutor—I know where his crossing is—it is half A mile from the place where the man was knocked down—I never spoke to Courtney in my life—I knew his name—I was not taken to identify him for five days after—a constable came and fetched me—he came and said he wanted to see me round the corner, at the station, to identify one of the prisoners.
Driscoll. Q. Did you see me near the man? A. You were kneeling on him—you went from there to the bottom of the street—Lee was on him as well—directly I opened the door you ran away—I saw you run away.
Cronin. Q. Did I run away when you took Driscoll? A. Yes—their were two constables there—you were taken the next morning—Driscoll was taken ten minutes after it happened.
Lee. I know nothing about it, I was in bed.
MR. KELLY. Q. Had you any doubt about the prisoners from the first? A. No—I never had.
JAMES HARRISON . (Policeman X 107). On the morning of the 9th June I saw the last witness—he pointed out Drisscoll to me about 2.10, in Church Lane, which leads out of George Street—I took him into custody—I took him to the station and met the prosecutor coming out with Richardson—Richardson said, "That is one of the men who robbed this man"—Drisscoll said, "I know nothing about it"—I apprehended Cronin and Lee on the morning of the 10th—they said they knew nothing about it—on the morn-ing of the 13th I went to Hanover Square, and found Courtney there, sweep-ing a crossing—I took him, from information and a description I had—I took him to George Street police-station, and the last witness identified him at once.
Cross-examined. by MR. PATER. Q. What did Richardson tell you? A. On the Saturday night he told me I was likely to find Courtney at Hanover Square—he never mentioned that before the Saturday night—ht did not give me that information on the 9th—I went on the Saturday night to Hanover Square, but he was not there then—I found him there the next morning—on the 9th Richardson told me he could swear to four men—I took Driscoll into custody—the other names were not mentioned then—I had never seen Courtney in Hanover Square before—I had not seen Richardson when I took him into custody—I had seen him last on the Saturday night—as I came through George Street with Courtney, Richard-son was at his door and I called him, and he saw that I had Courtney in custody.
COURT. Q. You had got three men and you were looking for the fourth? A. Yes—the name was not mentioned at first, but the last witness said he could swear to him—he did not know his name at the time, but we found out afterwards—Richardson had described Courtney to me, and I took him from the description—I heard that he was sweeping a crossing in Hanover Square.
Witnesses for Lee.
TIMOTHY LEE . I am a costermonger, at St Giles'—the prisoner Lee is my son—I heard of this robbery about a couple of days afterwards—my son was taken on the Saturday—that was the first I heard of it—I was at home on the night of the 8th June—I went to bed about 9 o'clock—I sleep down stairs—we only have one room—my two sons sleep in the same room—they went to bed about a quarter of an hour before me—I bolted the door and went to bed a little after 9—my son was in bed them—I
woke in the morning, about 6 o'clock—my two sons were in bed then—I woke up three times in the night, to smoke my pipe, that is my fashion—I did not get out of bed—my sons sleep close to me.
Cross-examined. Q. You were examined at the Police Court? A. Yes—I don't know that I said anything about another son then—they did not ask me—I did not say anything about taking a smoke three times in the night—my son went to bed before 9 that night—he does not always go to bed at that time—he was out along with the barrow all day with me, and he was tired and went to bed early—his brother is twenty-four years old—he is here.
GEORGE LEE . I am the brother of the prisoner, and live with my father and mother—we all occupy one room—I heard of this robbery—I can't say when it was—my brother was taken into custody the next morning—that was the first I heard of it—on the 8th June I went to bed about 12 o'clock, my brother and father were in bed before me—my brother was fast asleep—I went to sleep and did not wake till 9 in the morning—I was alone in bet then.
Cross-examined. Q. You did not hear your father or brother get up? A. No.
Driscoll's Defence. On the night this happened I went to a friendly meeting, I was just a little overtaken with drink; I was coming home by myself down Church Lane, and two policemen stopped me and asked the old man if I was there, and he said I was not, he had never seen me before; and then they asked the other witness, and he said "Yes," because he knew he would be nothing out by it I have never been in prison in all my life.
Cronin's Defence. I was in the workhouse at the time this was going on; I was in bed from 9 till 2.45. I saw four chape coming down Church Lane, and the witness was with them, too; he pointed and said, "That is one of them. "I have known the old man this six years. I work hard for my living, and can earn 5s. a day; that would pay better than knocking men down. I can assure you I was not there.
DRISCOLL, CRONIN and LEE/— GUILTY *†— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment and Twenty-five Lashes each.
COURTNEY/— GUILTY — Six Months' Imprisonment.
NEW COURT.—Saturday, July 17th, 1869.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. DALY. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. BESLEY. the Defence.
WILLIAM BRYANT . I am a cabinet maker, occupying a dwelling-house and shops at 2, New Nichol Street, Bethnal Green—the prisoner was in my employ, off and on, eight years—there had been continual differences between us since I took him on the last time, six or seven months ago, principally about neglect of his work—I had occasion to scold him about it; and he used insulting language—he had drawn money on account the very day the fire took place, or the day before, and went away, and never came back to his job—we had words about it, and I said, "You generally manage to come in an hour or two before dinner time, so as to manage to draw a little money of me, and I am getting tired of it"—he was very off-handed about it, and said, "I cannot work without food; I must have
money"—he drinks very hard, and on the day of the fire I mentioned it, and he said that he earned his money—he went to dinner about 1 o'clock and I said, "Now, Jim, you have taken a lot of micro on this job, and you know what a fix I am in for it"—he promised me that if I would give him ls to get something to eat, he would come back to work, and I gave him Is.—he then left for his dinner, and should have come back at 2 o'clock but did not—I did not see him again till the evening, when the fire was raging—I only managed to save my pocket-book, and then the roof fell in which turned me so sick that I went up to the Admiral Vernon, six doors off, where I met the prisoner—he said, "Here's a job, governor"—I said, "Oh, you villain!"—he said, "What for?"—we both got very excited, and he took off his coat to fight me—I said, "I am not in a position to fight now, I am in too much trouble"—he knew that I was not insured, because I used to beg all the men to be so careful about fire—the lease cost me 200l.; and I have also lost my tools, and the covenant of the house—when the company found the inflammable nature of the materials, they did not actually refuse to insure, but they wanted such a lot of improvements that I could not carry them out.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you been bankrupt? A. No; I compounded with my creditors for 4s. in the pound down, two and a half or three years ago—there were shavings and methylated spirits in the place, furniture polish—the back part was half brick and half wood—there were eight living-rooms in the two houses, let out separately, but not to eight different families—there were three strange tenants, and two of my own tenant?—the prisoner occupied one of the rooms, but he had been away for a night or two—he had been on the drink such a considerable time that I never knew when he was there and when He was not—he is not married, nor was the other workman who bad a room there—two of the other tenants have families, and one has not—I came from the workshop at 6 o'clock—there was no fire there, but there might have been embers; I did not take notice—I have not sworn that I left a fire on the premises—I cannot recollect saying, before the Magistrate, "I went out at 6 o'clock, and left the premises all secure, and one fire"—it is usual to have a fire to keep the glue pots hot—there was no grate, there never is in a cabinet maker's shop—it is a brick fire-place; the flue is left, and a brick fender is built round—there is a place on purpose to remove the shavings—that was dilapidated—my loss is 700l.; the lease was 350l—I borrowed the money from a society—I put down the benches and the stock in trade at 400l.; and the loss of time is very serious to me, because I am losing my trade—I swore before the Magistrate that my loss was 350l., but I did not state enough—I said, outside the Police Court, in the presence of Potts and Eaton, "Why do not his friends come and square it, it is money I want"—prosecuting this man will do me no good, even if he is sentenced for life; it does not pay me to lose my time to bring him here, and therefore I should have been glad to have taken any money that would have helped me to build up my house again; I have expressed myself several times that I hope he will get off—I was not out drinking with him in a public-house the night before—I asked him to sing a song at my own door, not in a public-house, and he asked me—I was sitting at No. 2 door, as it was very hot—I was on good terms with him that night; we were having our supper beer—I do not know of an accidental fire in my workshop two or three months ago.
MR. DALT. Q. Why do you wish him to get off A. Because I have known his mother and his family for years, and they are respectable people—he had a right to go into his lodging at any hour of the night, but not into the workshop—the other lodgers could go in during working hours—when the workshop door is opened it makes a creaking which can be heard in the street.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Do you mean to say that that very door was not accidentally thrown down some weeks before, and re-hung? A. I recollect it being partially pushed off its hinges and put back again, and I think the prisoner was the man who did it—I gave instruction! to plane off enough to make the door go easy, or to chop the knots off—chef prisoner has three brother-in-law, salesmen in the Borough Market.
COURT. Q. Do you know whether the door was eased? A. I think he eased it.
GEORGE MELROSE . I am the prosecutor's errand boy—on 8th June I was sitting waiting for him on the step at No. 2, Nichol Street—all the work-people had left, and it was as near as possible 9.30—I saw the prisoner in the prosecutor's yard, buttoning up his coat, as he came up the passage leading to the street, on his toes—he did not go into the street, but went up the stain two at the time, on his toes—I lost sight of him when he got to the first flight—the stairs lead to the workshop and to the dwelling-rooms—the workshop is the second floor—I could see the window of it if I went into the street—two or three minutes afterwards I heard the door creak (I had noticed that the workshop door creaked before that), and directly after that I saw him come down stairs; he came through the passage, and when he got to me, he said, "Is the master at home?"—I said, "No, he has not come home yet"—he said, "I shall say good-night; I will go up stairs and see the missue"—she was in No. 1, and he went to No. 2; and as soon as he got into the passage of No. 2, I saw the reflection of a light on the other side of the street—I went across the road to look, and saw long flames rising up against the workshop window, inside—they came from the middle window—the windows are in front of the house, and the fire-place at the side—I called out, "Fire!"and the prisoner came out directly, and said, "Well, good night, I'm off"—he walked up the street, and when he got to the beer-shop he ran—he could see the fire where he was, he looked up at it—the mistress was in the workshop after he left, her name is Marks—the lodgers were at home—I gave the alarm, and they came out—I did not stop to see whether any engines came, I was too glad to get home after I had got one or two of the things out of the down stairs room.
Cross-examined. Q. How old are you? A. Fifteen next birth-day—I have been in two or three other situations—I was at Mr. Aston's, who is here—I scalded my foot and stopped away three days, and he said he had got another one in my place—he never accused me of stealing the men's beer—I used to give the men a half-pint all round, and if there was any left I used to hare some myself—he never complained of my telling lies—I said my mother wanted me and he sent and asked her, and she said that she did not—I have not told a good many lies—I eat on this step about five minutes, and was playing about the street and in the yard—some children were playing with me, but not many boys—I did not see Mr. Witham leave the workshop—I was examined at Worship Street, two or three days afterwards, and mentioned that the prisoner asked me whether his master was at home—it all appeared there when it was read to me—I am quite
certain I said so, and I believe I said that the prisoner said, "I shall say good night, and go up and see the missus"—I will not swear it, but I am almost sure I did—I called "Fire!"directly I saw it, and another witness halloaed up the stair case, "The place is on fire "—it was two or three minutes from the first moment of the man being in the yard to the call out of "Fire!"—I was not sitting on the step all the time, directly he came to speak to me I stood up—when I was sitting on the step I could see into a portion of the yard—I have been in custody once, it was for gambling on a Sunday, but I was not—the police said that I was tossing in the streets—it is a long while since I went to school on week-days.
JURY. Q. Did the staircase you saw the prisoner going up lead to his sleeping room? A. No, he would go into the yard and turn round, his room was down stairs.
JOHN WITHAM . I am a cabinet-maker, and was in the prosecutor's employ on 8th of June—I left the workshop about 9.5 this night—there was a fire in the fire-place, I put it out safely and scraped it all away, shavings and dust—when I left there was no smell or appearance of fire—I was supposed to be the last person on the premises—I went home and heard no more.
Cross-examined. Q. Was it the constant practice for your master and your-self to smoke in that room? A. Yes, all day long, whenever we liked—the workshop was sometimes open till 12 o'clock at night in winter, but not in summer—the fire was about three feet from where the shavings would fall from the benches of the work-people—the fire-place was a little out of repair, it burns shavings and dust—it is a bricked fire-place, 18in. from the ground—the place was not fuller of shavings than usual—I never suggested that they were dangerous and ought to be turned out, that I am aware of—I was informed that the workshop chimney was on fire two months ago.
Q. In the presence of a man named Warner did not an accidental fire occur in that workshop, nothing to do with the chimney? A. I heard it had been on fire, but I was not there to see it—I have worked with Warner, he was in the prosecutor's employ at one time—I do not know where he is—I saw him last on the Friday alter the fire took place; he was working for a person named Watts, then—I might have seen him just before the fire, I cannot say.
COURT. Q. This was a raised fire-place, was there anything of the nature of a fender to it? A. No; it was about 2ft. 6in., square; it is flat where you put the shavings, there is no margin round it—it is level on the top, but raised from the floor with bricks.
GEORGE WHTMINT . I am a cabinet-maker, and occupy the first floor front room of No. 1—the workshop is on the fourth floor, it runs over No. 1 and No. 2—I know Witham—I was in my room and heard him come down from the workshop at 9 o'clock—I was looking out at the window, and saw him go up the street, as if going home—I heard no alarm of fire till the people in the street came and told me—I continued to sit in my room for about twenty-five minutes, and then they shoved my door open, and said that the place was on fire, and I went up stairs and shoved the workshop door open and saw it all in flames—the flames were more in one pert than the other, they seemed to come from just behind the door, some 7 or 8ft. from the fire-place—I cannot exactly say what was burning; I was so excited that I wont down to fetch my wife out—the fire had full hold, and
it bowed up against the windows—on the 10th I saw the prisoner at the London Depot, in the Curtain Road, sitting down having a glass of ale—I asked him if he would be kind enough to tell me where he was from 8 to 10 o'clock on the evening of the fire, Tuesday night—he said. "What do you ask me this question for?"—I told him it was a very serious matter for me, and then he said, "I was not out of this house from 3 o'clock till 10 o'clock, only twice, to go to the Blue Last to get a drop of gin "—the officers heard what he said, and requested him to go to the station—my workshop has been burnt down, too.
Cross-examined. Q. Had you any reason to notice the time Witham left? A. No—I was not expecting any fire—the first time I looked at a clock was when I carried my wife into a friend's house, it was then about 9.30—I think I noticed the clock then, but I will not swear it—I recollect Withman saying that it was somewhere about 9 o'clock—I had no reason to look at the time when he left—I am prepared to swear he left before 9.20, because my clock was the only article, besides my bed, which I could save—it is a box clock—it was going—it has not ropss, only chains—I pulled it off the nail when the alarm was, and it was then 9.20—it was right, as near as possible; it keeps good time all the year round.
DANIEL SINPIELD . I am a carman, of 26, Wood Street, Spitalfields—on 8th June, about 9.15, I was standing opposite the prosecutor's house, and saw the prisoner come out of No. 1 and speak to Melrose, who was sitting at the door; he then went into No. 2—I looked up two or three minutes afterwards, and saw that the place was in flames, at the middle window—I called out "Fire!"and saw Melrose run across the road—the prisoner then came out, and looked towards the Admiral Vernon, four or five doors off, and when he reached there he ran—he could not hear when I called "Fire!" because he was in the house then.
Cross-examined. Q. How old are you? A. Seventeen—I am in Thomas Potts' employ, and have been getting my own living for seven years—I was not examined at Worship Street—I had seen the prisoner before I had spoken to him, two or three times—I did not go to the Police Court and see him in charge—I sat on a step on the opposite side for twenty minutes, at and off—I went inside one or twice for a minute or two—Melrose was sitting there the whole time—he spoke once to the man who I say was the prisoner; he was standing up then—the prisoner then walked away—that was from 9.15 to 9.30—I did not see Withers there.
ANN MARKS . I live in the prosecutor's house—on 8th June I was acting as housekeeper at No. 2, on the first floor—I saw the prisoner after the fire, but not before—he knew I was living on the premises—I was in my room when the alarm of fire was given—the prisoner did not come and tell me anything about a fire—he was lodging in the house on 8th June—he slept the night before at No. 2, I believe—the workshop runs over both houses—the prisoner ran up to me in the street, after the fire, opposites public-house four or five doors off; he looked very white—he said, "I was in the Curtain Road at the time the fire broke out" it would take about six minutes to walk to the Curtain Road from the prosecutor's premises—I had not spoken to him at all before he made that communication to me.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you occupy the same room as the prosecutor? A. No; I attend to his wants—I have married a second husband, but he is not living with me—the prosecutor is a married man; hit wife lives in Tottenham Court Road—he sleeps there sometimes.
JAMES CONLEY . (Policeman H R 29). I was with Mr. Whyment on the 10th, when he asked the prisoner where he was on the night of the fire from 8.30—he said, "I was not away from the beer-shop from the time I came there till the fire broke out, except twice, once about 3 o'clock, and that was for three minutes or so, to get a drop of gin with a friend"—I said we were two police constables, and he would have to go with us to the station, on suspicion of setting fire to the premises—he was searched at the station, and two pawn tickets found on him.
Cross-examined. Q. You used the expression, "He said he had not left the beer-shop;" did not he say, "I have not left this house?"A. Yes, and that he went once to another shop, about 3 o'clock, and again to have a drop of gin at the Blue Last, and was then away only five minutes; but he did not say at what time.
JOHN ILLINGWORTH . I have been repairing the prosecutor's house since the fire—I went there yesterday fortnight, 2nd July; it had not been disturbed—speaking from the floor and the joists, the principal part of the fire had been 11 ft or 12 ft from the fire-place—there was no appearance of fire, that I could see, near the fire-place.
Cross-examined. Q. What are your A. A carpenter—I am employed by the prosecutor—the whole of the floor was not consumed—the roof fell—several planks of the flooring, 10 ft square, were not burnt—the place had been cleared, or I could not have worked—I have no one here from the fire brigade.
Witnesses for the Defence.
NATHANIEL BATTS . I am a box maker, of 5, Crown Court—on the night of the fire I was at the London Depot beer-house, Curtain Coad—I got there about 7.60—the prisoner was there then, I was in his company—friends of mine were with him, our conversation was about tools and about the Irish Church Bill, which was always usual when me and the prisoner met—while I was talking to him I heard a cry of "Fire!"—he had not left my presence, to my knowledge, from 7.50 till then, I was in his presence the whole time—I asked him to go to the door, to see if he could see where the fire was; he went, and came back to his seat, where he was before, baring been away about a minute—we had several reports, and it must have been forty minutes before we got it correctly where the fire was—I then went to the Admiral Vernon and saw the prosecutor, it was very full—the prisoner went up and spoke to him, and he said, "I have only one man to thank for this, and that is you"—the prisoner replied, "What for, sir, because I have not finished the tables 1"—the prosecutor said, "If you do not get away from me, I will knock you down"—a female took the prosecutor away, and I took the prisoner home—I have been in my present service eleven years.
Cross-examined Q. Had you known the prisoner before? A. Three or four years—there were seven persons in the public-house, including the prisoner and myself—there were no strangers in the bar—we were all drinking half-and-half up to 10 o'clock—who did not exceed four pots among the seven—we all sat on a scat at the extremity of the bar—the prisoner sat on my left hand, we occupied the middle of the bench—when there was an alarm of fire, we shifted—the prisoner then went to the door, but he did not leave till he went away with me, forty minutes after we heard the alarm—that
was getting on towards 10.30—when the landlady at the public-house told me on Friday that the prisoner had been taken away, I hardly knew how to speak, I was so taken by surprise, I said "It is a fallacy, for he was in my company the whole time"—she said that she remembered his being there till 9.15, when she left the bar—she is not here—the prisoner left me that night at 12.10—we went to Nichol Street, then we stopped at the Admiral Vernon, we returned to Curtain Road again, and then we went to my place—I was not drunk, we had but one pint of porter at the Admiral Vernon—I did not go to the fire when I heard the alarm, nor did any of us, that I know of—the prisoner and prosecutor met and had that con-venation at the Admiral Vernon, six doors from the fire—I will swear that the prisoner did not leave me at 9.30, but I should not like to be positive whether he did at 10.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Did be leave you at all, except going to the doorway? A. I believe he did not leave from the cry of "Fire!"till I went out with him to Market Street, some time after 10—the beer-shop is about 14ft. long, and 4ft. 6 in wide.
COURT. Q. You were at the London Depot, is that the place where you usually meet the prisoner? A. Yes, we talked politics a good deal—I had been there the night before that, and I was there the night after—the fire was Tuesday, 8th June—I had met the prisoner daily for weeks and months—we were together the night before the fire—I should say from 8 to 12—I went about 7.50—I always go at that time—we seldom met on Saturday night—on Friday he did not come in till about 9.30, he stayed till 11.30, and on Thursday about the same, that was the time on the average—the people present on the night of the fire were Chapman, Eaton, Thomas, Baker, Spencer, and myself.
JURY. Q. Did the prisoner give any reason for not hastening to the fire when he heard it was his own workshop? A. As soon as we knew where the fire was the prisoner said, "Good God! it is my employer's, I must go and Bee if I can render any assistance."
THOMAS CHAPMAN . I live at 4, Charles Square, and am a newsvendor—I have lived there eleven years—I have known the prisoner twelve months—on the night of the fire I was in the London Depdt beer-shop—I went there about 7 o'clock, the prisoner was there then—I remained up to the time of the alarm of fire, and the prisoner did not leave my presence—I did not see Batts come in.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you see the prisoner leave? A. No—there were seven or eight of us there—I went in to have a half-pint of beer, I had two or three words with them, not much—there were only two between me and the prisoner—he was sitting at the further end, on my left, between me and the other two witnesses—I was in his company two hours and a half—none of the witnesses went out, and I am certain the prisoner did not—my sight is slightly affected, that is all—several people came in and went out, but of our party Mr. Baker and Mr. Macaulay went out long before the alarm of fire—they did not come back—I was asked if I could see any way for the prisoner to have got out, Mr. Batts and I had two or there arguments upon it, and I said that the prisoner was there from 7 till the alarm of fire, which was about 9.30—the prisoner left the bar at 9.40 or 9.45—when the alarm was, at 9.30, Mr. Batt said, "Oh, James, go out and see where my little boy is, and see where the fire is," and he returned and said that he could not see any reflection—he was not out many minutes, four
or five—I am perfectly certain he did not leave the place before 9.30, even for five minutes—I know it was 9.30 because I looked at the clock to see if it was time for me to go home.
MR. BESLEY. Q. Did he come back and say he could not see where the fire was? A. No; my hearing is good, I could hear the con venation going on about me, the prisoner was taking part it.
COURT. Q. Did you met him there most nights, or was this an accidental meeting? A. I was there most nights—we had been there together the night before, and the night before that, and we were there the night after.
ALFRED SPENCER . I am a butcher, of 7, Devonshire Buildings, Worship Street—I went to the London Depot on the night of the fire, about 7.20 or 7.30—I found the prisoner then—I heard the alarm of fire—the prisoner had not left then, only to go to the urinal, just previous to Batts' coming in, just before 8 o'clock.
Cross-examined. Q. Was Chapman there? A. Yes, I should say that he could see me and the prisoner go out for that purpose—there were four in my party—the prisoner was one, and that young chap with crutches (Chapman), and Eaton, and me—we drank half-and-half—Batts came in, he made five—I went to the fire when I heard the alarm, and when I came back they said, "Whose place do you think it is on fire, Jim's place?—I went to witness the fire, and went as nigh as I could got, and when I went back, at 11 o'clock, they had gone.
JOHN EATON . Q. I life at 7, Wood's Buildings, and am a cabinet-maker, on my own amount—I only know the prisoner by his using the place where I go—I was at the London Depot on the night of the fire, and saw him then—I want then early in the day to see somebody, and waited till tea-time—I went home to tea, and came back in half-an-hour, at 5.30, and he was there till I left—I left him then at 8.30, or 8.45, in the com-pany of the witnesses who have been called.
THOMAS DELLOW . I was barman at the East London Depot, on 8th June—I recollect the alarm of fire—I saw the prisoner then and the witnesses who have been called—the prisoner had not left, to my know-ledge, up to the time of the alarm—I had seen him thon for some hours before.
Cross-examined. Q. Were then many customers there? A. Not many—I did not watch every customer going out for five minutes, and coming in again—I did not take any beer out that night.
NOT GUILTY .
Before Mr. Recorder.
MR. LEIGH. conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM NEWBY . I am a joiner—on 9th July I was lodging at Leyton—I put my tools and my jacket in a stable at the back of the King's Head Inn—they were worth more than 1l.—as I went down the road, about 8.30, I met the prisoner with my tools and my jacket on him—when I went up to him he put the tools down—he said that he had been tustling with two men on top of a wall—he was very abusive.
Prisoner. Q. Did not we all drink together that afternoon at the King's Head I A. Yes—somebody won 6d., of me—you were not very drunk you got over a wall 11 ft. high.
CHARLES WOODFORD . I am a painter, of 6, Somerset Terrace, Nothing Hill—I had some drink with Newby at the King's Head, about 8.30 on this evening—I saw him take his tools from the prisoner, who was somewhat in liquor and very abusive.
GUILTY. Strongly recommended to mercy by the Jury. — One Month' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MR. STRAIGHT. conducted the Prosecution.
JAMES AGATE . I keep the Providence public-house, Woolwich Common on the 11th June, about 9 o'clock, I served the prisoner and another man with a pot of half-and-half—the prisoner paid with one shilling—I put it in the till and gave him change; he then called for a pint of ale and a bottle of ginger beer, and gave me a bad shilling—I then examined the till and found two other bad shillings—I accused him of passing bad money—he said that he must have taken it in change—I sent for a constable, and the prisoner ran across the road and got over a garden wall—I followed him and heard something jingle—he walked back with me to the house, and I gave him in charge—I afterwards went to the wall and picked up two shillings, and the constable picked up seven shillings wrapped in paper—I handed all the shillings to the constable.
HUGH MCLEAN . (Policeman R 291). I took the prisoner, and received these three shillings from Agate—I went to a wall opposite the house and found those seven shillings, separately wrapped in pape, with paper between each—I saw Agate pick up two shillings—I took the prisoner to the station and found on him 10s. 7d. in good money, and two bad shillings.
WILLIAM WEBSTER . All those shillings are bad—the three uttered are of 1854, 1855, and 1856—the two found in the prisoner's pocket are of 1855 and 1856—that of 1855 is from the same mould as the one of 1855 uttered, and among those found in the parcel is one of 1855, also from the same mould; and there are two from one mould, of 1864.
GUILTY .— fifteen Months' Imprisonment.
MR. STERNE. conducted the Prosecution.
HENRY BLACKPOOL . I am foreman to Abel Sleight—on 8th June, about 2 o'clock, I saw the prisoner come down the market, take a piece of bacon from tha block, and walk away—I went out and took it from her—she was going away from the door, but she said that she was coming in to ask the price—it was worth 3s. 6d.—after I got her in the shop I saw 2lbs. of bacon on a board on the counter, which was not there before—the two pieces were worth 5s.—I gave her in charge.
JONATHAN SWASHALL . I am a greengrocer, of 29, Greenwich Market—on 8th June I went into Mr. Sleight's shop, and saw the primmer drop a piece of bacon from her left arm, and saw the shopman take a large piece from under her right arm.
Prisoner. I had my purse in my hand, and was going to pay for it. I deal there.
HENRY BLACKPOOL . (re-examined). She has been in the habit of dealing it the shop—she had her purse in her hand, but I cannot swear whether the had it when she came into the shop—she showed it to Mr. Sleight—I did not see her take it out of her pocket.
GEORGE POTT . (Dockyard Policeman). I was called, and found the prisoner in the shop, standing against the counter, and two pieces of bacon lying in front of her—she said that she hoped he would not press the charge, and took her purse out of her pocket and offered to pay for it.
COURT. Q. Have you ever said before that she asked him not to press the charge? A. Yes, she said that she did not intend to steal it, she took it into the shop to ask the price of it—I found on her this bottle, and 3s. 1d.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. STERNE. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. F. H. LEWIS. the Defence.
MARY JANE MACEY . I am assistant to Mr. William Henry Cornish, a draper, of South Street, Greenwich—a few months ago the prisoner came to our shop—he bought goods to the amount of 2l. 2s. 3d—he offered to pay me with a cheque, but I refused—he then said he had a 5l. note, and if I would send the goods and the change for the note by the boy, he would send the 5l. note back by him—I went with the boy—the prisoner waited, and went with me—I understood from him that we were to go to New Cross—we went a short distance, and the prisoner said he would give me his address, as he wanted to call at a jeweller's shop to pay for a watch being done—he said if I would give him a piece of paper he would write the address—I gave him my bill, and he wrote on the back a note to his brother—he said it was for his brother—the note was, "Please pay the lady a 5l. note; I have the change"—he said, "You won't mind giving me the change, as I want the money; my brother will give you the 5l. note"—I said, "I will leave the change when I get the note"—he said, "It will sure to be all right; will you give it to me now I"—I said, "No, not until I get the note"—he then said, "It does not matter much," and he left me—I went on to find the address he gave me, but I could find no such place or person; it was No. 4, Victoria Villas, New Cross—I made every inquiry—this happened two months ago—I did not see the prisoner again till the 24th June, when he came again to the shop—I recognized him immediately, but quietly served him—he bought goods to the amount of 3l. 6s. 9d.—he told me to send them to Mr. Austin, medical student, Greenwich Hospital, and said the porter at the gate would know him—he offered me a cheque for 8l. 7s. 6d. in payment—I took the cheque to Mr. Cornish, and told him who had given it to me—I went back to the shop, saying that Mr. Corniah would bring the change—he said, "All right "—Mr. Cornish fetched a constable—when he came Mr. Cornish said, "I believe you are the gentleman who bought a parcel of goods two months
ago?—the prisoner said, "No, I have never been in your shop but one before, and then I bought a pair of gloves, for which I paid 3s."—we have no gloves at 3s. a pair—he was then given into custody—I have no doubt that he is the man who came in on the previous occasion.
(Cross-examined.) Q. What was the date of the first occasion? A. The 9th April, I believe, ten weeks previous—I am quite sure he is the man—I am not mistaken.
WILLIAM GIBBS . (Policeman R R 24). On 24th June last I was called to Mr. Cornish's shop—the prisoner was given into my charge for attempt-ing to obtain goods by a false cheque—he said he had never been in the shop but once before, when he bought a pair of gloves—I received this cheque from Mr. Cornish—I know New Cross, and there is no such place as Victoria Villas.
ABEL REEVES . I reside at High Street, Shoreditch, and am manager of the Central Bank of London, formerly called the East London Bank—this cheque is one of our cheques—it was issued to Alfred Davies, one of our customers, in October, 1865—the account was closed in June, 1866—this cheque is drawn by George Chippendale—we have no customer of that name, and never had—I do not know the handwriting—about three days before this cheque was presented, a cheque similar to this was presented—we returned it marked "No account"—this cheque was presented on the 24th, by a police-constable—I do not know the prisoner at all.
Cross-examined. Q. Why don't you get back the cheques after the accounts art closed? A. It is impossible to get them all—we get them back when we can.
GUILTY .— Nine Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
Before Mr. Common Serjeant.
MONTAGUE PLEADED GUILTY . **— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. O'CONNELL. conducted the Prosecution.
ELIZABETH WEST . I am barmaid at the Sportsman public-house, South-wark Bridge Road—on the 22nd of June the prisoners came in, Montague called for a pint of ale and gave me a half-crown—I put it on a shelf by itself and gave her change—there was no other money there—they then left—the landlord spoke to me and I gave him the half-crown—I am sure it was the same.
June Mr. Comber spoke tome—I spoke to the barmaid and got a bad half-crown from her—Mr. Comber and I went after the prisoner, I said, "You have been passing bad money at my home"—Williams said, "I will pay you for the ale"—I would not take it, but sent for a policeman and marked the half-crown, and gave it to him.
THOMAS COMBER . I am landlord of the Globe, dote by Mr. Euckland's—on the 22nd of June the two prisoners came to my house—Montague called for a pint of ale and gave me a bad half-crown, I bent it nearly double and gave it back to her—Williams paid me for the ale with a threepenny piece—Montague said the half-crown was given to her—when they left I noticed that they had thrown the greater part of the ale under the settle—I afterwards went to Mr. Buckland's and spoke to him—I was with him when the prisoners were taken.
WILLIAMS— GUILTY .— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND. and O'CONNELL. conducted the Production.
WALTER HART . I am a surgeon, of Stones' End, Borough—the prisoner came to my surgery in June for one pennyworth of carmine, and gave me a bad shilling—I bent it in the tester, and she gave me a good sixpence,—she said that a gentleman gave it to her—I afterwards gave it to a policeman.
STEPHEN FRANCIS SOLLY . I am a chemist, of 3, St George's Circus—on 10th June, about 11.20 at night—I served the prisoner with a penny-worth of carmine—she gave me a bad shilling—I asked her whether she had another, she said, "Yes," and gave me one, and that was bad as well—I bent them both and gave them back to her, and she paid me with a penny—I pointed her out to a constable, who took her—she appeared to have been drinking.
JOHN MANSFIELD . (Policeman L 70). Mr. Solly gave the prisoner into my custody, with these bad shillings—Mr. Hart gave me this other shilling—she pulled out 6s. 6d. in silver and 4d. in coppers at the station.
Prisoners Defence. I was very tipsy and do not know anything about it.
GUILTY . She was further charged with having been convicted of a like offence at this Court, in April, 1868, to which the
PLEADED GUILTY.— Five Years' Penal Servitude.
MESSRS POLAND. and O'CONNELL. conducted the Prosecution.
JOHN HENDERSON . I am foreman to Mr. Hilton, of Upper Kennington Lane—on Friday, 11th June, the prisoner bought some chops, and gave me a shilling—I put it in the till, where there was no other shilling—I looked at it half an hour afterwards, and found it was bad—no other shilling had been put in in the meantime—I chopped it in halves, and threw them into the street—no other person had been in the shop since
the prisoner left—on the 17th, between 8 and 9 o'clock, she came again, and said that she wanted something cheap, us she had not much money to spare—I served her with a bit of mutton, which came to 7d. and she gave me a bad half-crown—I kept it in my hand, went round, and told her it was bad—she said that she took it at a beer-shop—I sent for a constable, and said to him, in her presence, "She came here last Friday and gave me a bad shilling—she said, "I did not; I often come to the shop, but I never brought bad money"—I gave the half-crown to the constable.
JAMES POMFREY . (Policeman L 39). On 17th June, Henderson gave the prisoner into my custody with this half-crown—she said that she had taken it at some beer-shop, but she could not say the name, and could not direct me there—a good half-crown was found on her.
Prisoner. Q. Did not I ask you to go to the beer-shop with me, and tell you it was a little beer-shop going down a step, leading out of Keunington Lane? A. Yes—I did not tall you, next morning, that I had not had time to go.
Prisoner's Defence. I received it in a public-house.
PLEADED GUILTY.— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
MESSRS. POLAND. and O'CONNELL. conducted the Prosecution.
CAROLINE COLE . I am the wife of Henry Cole, who keeps the Royal George, Rotherhithe—on a Wednesday in June I served the prisoner with a pint of beer—he gave me a bad shilling—I bent it, and returned it to him—he said, "I have another"—I said, "I shall not serve you."
ELIZABETH SMITH . I am the wife of William Smith—on Wednesday, 9th June, I was at my window, 2, Magdala Street, next door to Mr. Bennett's, and a very short distance from the Royal George—I saw the prisoner, about 6.45, straightening a shilling on my coping stone, with a stone out of my garden—he put it in his waistcoat pocket, looked into Mr. Bennett's window, and then went into the shop.
MARY ANN BENNETT . I am the wife of Charles Bennett, a grocer, of Magdala Terrace—on 9th June, between 7.0 and 7.30, I served the prisoner with a quarter of a pound of sugar, which came to 1d.—he gave me a shilling—I said, "This is bad"—he said, "Is it? here is another one for it; I have been at work very hard to earn that shilling; it is very hard "—my husband came in, and there was a scuffle between them—he gave the prisoner in charge, with the shilling.
CHARLES BENNETT . On the evening of 9th June I went into my shop, and saw a bad shilling on the counter—I told the prisoner I should detain him—I stood against the door to look for a constable, and the prisoner came behind me—I cannot tell how he did it, but I found myself on my face before I knew where I was—I got up and ran after him, and caught him and gave him in custody.
Prisoners Defence. I get my living with the niggers. A gentleman said, "That is a very good song, I will give you 2d."He gave me 1s., and I gave him 10d. They bent it at the public-house, and I straightened it, because I did not think it was bad, and took it into the shop, and they gave me in custody.
GUILTY. Recommended to mercy by the Jury on account of his youth. Four Months' Imprisonment.
MR. BRINDLEY. conducted the Prosecution.
RACHEL DODD . I am the wife of Thomas Dodd, and live at 18, Liverpool Street, Walworth—on the 19th June my husband went out—I was in the back parlour—I heard a noise about 4 o'clock—I opened the folding-doors, and saw the prisoner in the front room—the window was open—when he saw me he got out of the window—I tried to hold him but could not—I had fastened up the window when my husband went out—I called out "Police!"as loud as I could—there was a gentleman passing and he ran after the prisoner—he was brought back by a constable a few minutes after—there was a thermometer in the room, on the sideboard, when I went to bed—I next saw it lying at the end of the table—it had been moved—there was also a flower-pot moved from the window—the prisoner was the man who was in the room.
THOMAS BUNTING . (Policeman P 340). I was on duty about 4.15 on the morning of the 9th June, in Little Liverpool Street—I saw the prisoner running from the direction of Liverpool Street, followed by a gentleman—I saw the prisoner turn the corner, and heard the cry of a female voice—the gentleman spoke to me, and I took the prisoner in custody—I went back to the house of the prosecutrix—she said, "That is the man who has been in my parlour"—the prisoner said nothing—I found marks on the window-sill and marks on the window—the prisoner took a knife from his pocket, and said, "You will find nothing on me except this knife, and it will not fit the window, I know"—I tried the knife to the window, and it exactly corresponded with the marks on the window-frame, and it opened the catch—I found a box of lucifer matches and an old rope on the prisoner.
Prisoner's Defence. The prosecutrix cannot be certain that I am the man, she only saw me by a mere glance; she did not see me after I got into the street.
GUILTY . He further charged with having been before convicted, in January, 1869, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. *— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. HOLLAND. conducted the Prosecution.
THOMAS KEEN . I live at 8, Lower Park Road, Peckham—I was called up on the morning of the 14th June, about 4.30—I found the parlour window unfastened, and a pane of glass taken out of the window—the shutters were opened, and the bell that had been on them, was removed—I afterwards found the bell in the area, outside the kitchen window—I went to bed about 12 o'clock the night before—the house was securely fastened then.
Poulton. Q. How many panes of glass were broken when you went to bed? A. There was one cracked, none broken.
ELIZA COUSINS . I am a widow, and live at 7, Lower Park Road, Peckham about 4.15, on the morning of the 14th June, I heard the breaking of glass—I got out of bed and looked out of the window—I saw Lanagan come from the front path into the road—I threw up the window and saw the two prisoners together—when I lifted the window they ran away in opposite directions—I dressed, came down stairs, and went out, to see if I could see a constable—I went to the corner and saw the two prisoners coming through Park Street together—that is at the back of the house—they could get round at the back of the house and meet each other again—there was no one else in the street—I gave a description of them to the police—I have no doubt at all that these are the two men—I have known Lanagan for sixteen years, and I knew Poulton by sight, in the neighbourhood—I saw them again together about a quarter of an hour after I lifted the window and saw them first—I saw two constables just after they passed through Park Street—I beckoned them up and told them what I had seen—the police-men went after them and brought Poulton back about twenty minutes after—I went with them to the station, and while I was there Lanagan was brought in.
POULTON. Q. Did you look out immediately you heard the breaking of glass? A. I peeped out of my blind first, and when I saw Lanagan step off the path I raised the window—the line was broken and it shut down again—I opened it again and saw Lanagan step from the footpath into the road—I did not see your face, but I knew you well by sight before.
Lanagan. Q. Which way did I go? A. Past my window, towards the Swan—I did not see you break anything—I saw you in Park Street—I did not see whether you crossed to the corner or whether you went round—I saw you before I lifted up the window.
OWEN CHILTON . (Policeman P 76). I was on duty on the morning in question, and saw the last witness shortly after 4 o'clock—she made a statement to me, and I apprehended Poulton in Alfred Street, about 150 yards from Park Street—I took him back to the last witness, and she identified him, and I took him to the station—she had given a description of him, and I took him ten minutes after—I went to Mr. Keen's house, and found a pane of glass broken and one cracked.
Lanagan. Q. Did you see me about anywhere that night? A. I did not—you were sitting on the kerb stone with a woman when I took you.
Poulton's Defence. On Sunday morning, 13th June, I got up about 4.20, to go fishing in the canal—before I was out of the door five minutes the con-stable came and said he wanted me, for breaking into a house. I was taken back to the prosecutor's shop and charged with stealing a bell. There is no evidence against me that I did the deed at the prosecutor's shop that morning.
Lanagan's Defence. This is a place where I have been living a long time. At 4.15 on Sunday morning I was going to have a swim, as I generally do, and I was sitting down talking to a woman, and they charged me with this burglary. I know nothing about it.
GUILTY .—Poulton was further charged with having been before convicted.
on the 15th September, 1867, and was sentenced to hard labour for six months)—I was present at the trial—the prisoner Poulton is the same person—I had him in custody.
. **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.—Lanagan, was further charged with having been before convicted, in May, 1867, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Seven Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. STRAIGHT. conducted the Prosecution.
SUSANAH GROOMBRIDGE . I live at 12, James' Lodge, Bermondsey, that is attached to St James church there—on the 10th December, 1861, I was present at the marriage of William James Barnes to Emily Marsh—I signed the register as a witness—I was in attendance as semitones—I can't say whether the prisoner was the man.
HANNAH MARSH . I am a widow, and live at 2, Surrey Cottages, Surrey Grove—I knew the prisoner before he was married—Emily Marsh was my sister-in-law—I married her brother—I knew that Emily Marsh was going to be married to the prisoner—my brother-in-law was present at the ceremony—I was not present—after the 10th of December, 1861, the prisoner and Emily Marsh lived together as man and wife, at Victoria Terrace, Old Kent Road, at the prisoner" mother's—I know they went to church together on the 10th December, as a fact—they continued to live together until two years ago, when he left her—she had five children—there are only two alive at present—my sister-in-law showed me the certificate—this (produced) is it Prisoner. Q. How old are you? A. Forty-two, I believe—I have four children—the youngest was five years, last January—I am not married now—I have relief from the parish of Newington, the prosecutors in this cash—Mrs. Barnes' mother showed me the certificate—she was present—I never showed her mine—I can read a little—I did not see your name on the certificate—I swear I have not been living with any man—I did not have a child twelve months ago.
MICHAEL ALEXANDER GABB . I am relieving officer to the parish of Newington—this prosecution arose out of a cases or neglecting to maintain—I have known Emily Marsh about two years—she was living in my district—she came to the workhouse about two years ago, to be confined—her husband left her outside—after she was confined she remained chargeable to the parish—when she was admitted she showed me the marriage certificate—I handed it to constable Spinks, for comparison with the register—some little time since I went with the warrant-officer to arrest the prisoner, at 6, Suffolk Road, Dalston, for leaving his wife chargeable to the parish—I went up stairs, leaving the constable outside—I knocked at the door, someone said, "Is that you?"making use of some name—I said, "Yes; open the door" they said, "I can't; you must come in half-an-hour "—I went down and got the officer up—the door was forced open—they would not open it—the prisoner was in the room, half-dressed, and a female in bed, with a child—he said, "I thought it was someone else "—I told him we charged him with neglecting to maintain his wife, and asked if that was his other wife—he said that his wife had committed adultery, and that he was justified in leaving her—the warrant was read over to him; it charged him with leaving his wife, Emily Barnes, and family, naming the children, chargeable to the parish—I received this certificate from the first wife.
Prisoner. Q. Do you know if the witness, Marsh, is married? A. I have reason to believe so; if she was found living in adultery she would not receive relief—I can't swear that inquiry has been made—I have not heard of her having a child since her husband's death—I recollect Mrs. Barnes going to the Union to be confined of a child, that has recently died—I don't recollect you calling to see her—I have nothing to do with the Union—I have no recollection that she represented herself as a single woman—I did not propose to get you married to her—it is a common occurrence—she has been living at 6, Lorrimore Street, for eighteen months, with your father—he is a shoemaker—I did not know that they were cohabiting together—I have made inquiries.
JOHN CUTHBERT . I life at 9, Henry Place, Hoxton, and am a cigar maker—I was present at the marriage of my daughter, Ann Elizabeth Cuthbert, on the 9th May, 1868, to the prisoner, in the name of James Barnes, at the Register Office, in the Kingsland Road—they lived together afterwards—I can't recollect where.
Prisoner. Q. Where did we last live? A. In Paul Street—I never knew you by any other surname—I knew you as William James Barnes—you were married as James Barnes.
JOHN SPINKS . (Policeman H 56). I have compared this certificate of 10th December, 1861, with the register at the parish church of St. James's—it is a correct copy—(This wot a marriage certificate, dated 10th December, 1861, between William James Barnes, of full age, bachelor, to Emily Marsh, of full age, spinster)—I have also compared this certificate with the register at the Register Office, Kingsland—it is a correct copy—(This was dated 9th May., 1868, between James Barnes, 26, batchelor, 3, Trinity Court, to Ann Elizabeth Cuthbert, 9, Henry Place)—I apprehended the prisoner on a warrant for neglecting to maintain his wife—I read it over to him—he said, "I had reason for leaving her through her misconduct"—he afterwards said at the Police Court that she had been guilty of adultery—she was present at the Police Court.
Prisoner. Q. Who what present in the room when you read the warrant? A. A woman—the landlady was outside, on the stain—Mr. Gabb was present—he went down stairs—I went down once—the woman said she thought it was someone else—I did not say that you were living by any other name.
The prisoner, in his defence, stated that he was never married to Emily Marshy but that his cousin married her, and went abroad; that he then lived with her as his wife, but found she had committed adultery afterwards that he then left her, as he considered he had a perfect right to do so, and married Ann Elizabeth Cuthbert.
ROBERT BARN . is, I am thirty-two years old—I recollect the year my cousin was married in—it was 1861 or 1862—his name was William Barnes—I never heard that you were married to Emily Marsh in my life—I knew you went with her—you represented yourself as her husband—I have been to the house on many occasions—I heard that you parted from her, through the intimacy she had with my father—I knew of that intimacy about four years ago—she lives with him at the present time.
MR. STRAIGHT. Q. Is your father a shoemaker? A. Yes; I am the prisoner's brother—my father's name is John Arthur Barnes.
NOT GUILTY .
MR. HUNT. conducted the Prosecution.
EDWARD BUCKNELL . (Policeman M 142). About 8.30 on Saturday even-ing, the 8th July, I went to Mr. Folkard's, a pawnbroker in the Blackfriars Road, where I saw the prisoner—the assistant showed me this part of a spoon or fork (produced) it is silver—he said in the presence of the prisoner, "This man has brought this to sell," and he gave it to me to look at—I asked the prisoner how he came by it—he said, "It was given to me by a man at the top of the road, he gave me the name of Happy"—I took him to the station and charged him.
HENRY NOTLEY . I am manager to Mr. Folkard, pawnbroker, in the Blackfriars Road—on Saturday evening, 3rd July, the prisoner came to the shop and offered me half a silver fork for sale—I sent for a constable—on the 26th June he brought some knife handles to me—there is a crest on the spoon and on the knife handles as well—they were very much defaced when they were brought, I had to file them to see if they were silver—I did not see the crest till they were cleaned—when he came first he handed them to me and asked me to buy them, and said he had got some more at home—he said they belonged to his grandmother, and had been some time in the family, and the blades were rather old, so he had brought them to sell—he said he lived at Kennington Road—the whole of the knives would be worth 2l.—I gave him into custody.
Prisoner. Q. Did you see me in the shop? A. Yes—I did not take them from you—they were handed to me—you asked if it was silver—I did not know your name—I did not see any crest at first.
WILLIAM GREEN . I am butler to the Earl of Bandon, 111, Eaton Square—I know the prisoner—I engaged him as odd man on the 22nd June—he left on the 3rd July—I identify these knife handles as being the Earl of Bandon's property, and under my care—the crest is on them—it was the prisoner's duty to clean those knives—from information I received I looked over the list of plate—I missed two forks and about nine knives—they were in the pantry, and the prisoner had access to them.
Prisoner. Q. When you employed in did you find me take anything unknown to you? A. I have not missed anything except these—you were called away at different times to run messages for me—the greengrocer and butter man pass through the place where the things are cleaned.
Prisoner's Defence. I was coming home on the Saturday night and saw these things in a piece of rag; I picked them up, I did not know they were silver, I never noticed the crest on them; I am innocent of stealing the things; I picked them up.
PLEADED GUILTY. **— Ten Years' Penal Servitude.
MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. STRAIGHT. the Defence.
PETER LECANDERY . I carry on business at 63, Great Tower Street, as an agent—I came to this country in 1865—I was then in partnership with Messrs. Coutts, Dobell & Co.—that partnership was disserted, and I then
carried on business by myself—I had an acquaintance named Leriche, a clerk to a solicitor—in 1865 or 1866 Leriche introduced to me a man named Leon, a German—I had a business transaction with him in July, 1866—I had twenty-five hogsheads of claret lying at Fenning's Wharf, which I had brought from Bordeaux—on the 25th July Leon called on me with the prisoner—he introduced him to me as Mr. Cadman—he said the prisoner was in want of twenty-five casks of wine—that Cadman was living in Great Carter Lane, City, and was a merchant—we all three went down to Fenning's Wharf, and they tasted the wine—he agreed to take it, and the delivery of the goods was to be effected on the Friday—they did not come on the Friday, they came on the Saturday—I then received 10l. to pay the expenses of having the goods cleared—they went away to fetch the 10l.—when the 10l. was brought, we all three went to the wharf—I paid the 10l., and got the warrants at 3.30—we then returned to my office, and I made an invoice for the twenty-five casks of wine, 100l., deducting the 10l. which had been paid—the prisoner then took a blank cheque from his pocket, filled it up, and signed his name "H. Cadman "—this is the cheque (produced)—he wrote that name in my presence—it is a cheque upon the London and Westminster Bank, dated July 28, 1866; "Pay to Messrs. Coutts, Dobell & Co. 90l., H. Cadman"—I was still carrying on business as Coutts, Dobell & Co.—he handed the cheque to me—I objected to take it, it was 4.15; after banking hours—Mr. Leon said all would be right, he had known the prisoner seven years—he said he was sure there was money in the bank—I eventually took the cheque, and gave him the warrant to clear the wine—I presented the cheque on the Monday morning, and it was returned to me, marked "No account," and the name was not known at all—I then went to Great Carter Lane, and made inquiries—I could not find the prisoner there carrying on business as Air. Cadman—I saw a gentleman of the name of Cadman, in Newgate Street, and then went to the Southwark Police Court and obtained a warrant—I gave instructions to have it executed on the prisoner—shortly after that I left this country and returned to France—I came back again in January, 1867—in June or July, 1867, I met the prisoner talking to a man named Mouillet—I went up and spoke to Mouillet, and the prisoner went away—I went to a public-house with Mouillet, and saw the prisoner at the bar; he said he had nothing for the transaction—I said that if he got nothing, it must be Mouillet that got some, and Mouillet said, "I received 1l. for giving the cheque to Cadman"—I went down to the Police Court to obtain a warrant, as the other had run out—I met the prisoner a few weeks after, in Upper Thames Street—we did not speak about this matter then—I then lost sight of him for about nine months—I found out his address in the beginning of June, and then applied for another warrant—I heard him addressed by the name of Fiddes.
Cross-examined. Q. Were you born in France? A. I think so—I decline to answer where—I first came to England in August, 1865—I did not speak English much then—I became acquainted with Leon about six months after I came to England—I don't know whether he was a Frenchman; he spoke to me in French—I had had one business transaction with Leon before he brought the prisoner to me; that was some champagne that he sold for me—I got the twenty-five hogsheads of claret from Bordeaux—I decline to tell you who from—there was nothing wrong about them—I got them from Mr. Mass, of Bordeaux—I was never prosecuted there—I have been at
Havre—I can't tell you what the transaction was—I don't know that I had five years' imprisonment—I have not been prosecuted for this claret—I have not got the invoice now; I don't know what became of it—Mr. Mass has not prosecuted me for obtaining the wine by false pretences—I have done business with a man named Seraphin; I was never in partnership with him—he has not been sent to penal servitude for five years—he has been sent away, but not for five years; I don't know how long—I know a man named De John; he was a partner of mine—De John and I hare not been obtaining goods right and left by false pretences—I don't recollect very much—I don't know that I was sentenced to imprisonment at Havre, in 1866, for swindling Mr. Mass, of Bordeaux—I know Mr. Mouillet and Mr. Leon very well—I did not see Mouillet in connection with these twenty-five Hogshead is of claret; I did not know him then—I have not seen Leon lately—I did not see him at the Southwark Police Court—I Went into partner-ship with De John in March, 1868—it only lasted five months—I started my business in Buckingham Street, Strand, as a commission agent—I sold oil and flour—I did not buy oil on credit and not pay for it—I started with 100l.—I never called myself De John & Co. after the partnership was dissolved; I did while it lasted—we then did business in the provision trade—I did not draw cheques and give bills of exchange without having funds to meet them—I was served with a writ last Tuesday—I did not tell the person who brought it I had had five years at Havre—the conversation that I had with Leon about the wine was in English—the cheque was signed by Fiddes in my office—we sat at the table; Leon was standing by his side—I went to France in August, 1866, and came back in January, 1867—I have remained here ever since—I went to Havre in 1866, I did not go to Bordeaux—I drank with the prisoner when I saw him at the public-house—I told him I wished to settle with him—he did not give me any money—Messrs. Coutts, Dobell & Co. was the name of my firm—the cheque was given me on 28th July, 1866—Mr. Coutts was not a member of the firm then; Mr. Dobell was—he is in existence now; he lives at Jersey—he ran away with 124l.—I was the company then.
MR. WILLIAMS. Q. Do you know where Mouillet is at the present time? A. Yes, in Swan Street—I saw the prisoner write this signature—Mr. Mass prosecuted me behind my back for some champagne—he said I obtained the goods in the name of Lecandery, whereas I was trading for another firm, and I was condemned in my absence.
CHARLES LLOYD . I am a cashier at the London and Westminster Bank, Lothbury—this cheque is on one of our forms—it was issued to a Mr. James Miller, 10, Philpot Lane—we had no customer of the name of Cadman in 1866, and no money to meet this cheque.
PERCIVAL HUGH CADMAN . I am a commercial traveller and live at 42, Borough Road—I formerly occupied an office in Great Carter Lane—in March, 1866, I went to America—I never saw the prisoner in my life, to my knowledge—I never had an account at the London and Westminster Bank—the signature to this cheque is not in my handwriting—I never authorized the prisoner to sign "H. Cadman" to any cheque.
HENRY PYKE . (Policeman M 208). I received a warrant on the 14th of June, and apprehended the prisoner—I read the warrant to him, he said, "He has allowed this case to go too long, I thought it was all blown over before now."
in Philpot Lane—in 1862 I banked at the London and Westminster Bank—I had a cheque-book for that purpose—this cheque corresponds exactly with the cheque-book—I should say a greet many have been taken out—this cheque is missing from the book.
The prisoner received a good character.
GUILTY . †— Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
Before Mr. Recorder.
WALDRON PLEADED GUILTY . **— Twelve Months' Imprisonment.
MR. GRIFFITHS. conducted the Prosecution; MR. WOOD. appeared for Smith, and MR. BULLEY. for Edwards.
HENRY SCUTTS . I am a solicitor's clerk, and live at 92, Elsted Street, Wandsworth—on 1st July, between 1 and 2 o'clock, I was going home—when I got into Rodney Road, the three prisoners came behind me—I was seized by the throat by the little prisoner and thrown on the ground—we had a struggle, and the police came to my rescue and seized Edwards and Smith, and I believe saved my life—I had money in my pocket, and I felt a hand there—I was much hurt, and am suffering still—I have no doubt about the prisoners, but Edwards was not so near to me as the others—when I first saw him he was about six paces from me, he did not come nearer at any time—they both had white handkerchiefs on.
Cross-examined by MR. BULLET. Q. Did you hear Edwards say, "Get up; let the man alone?" A. No, he was the length of a man from me."
Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. Were you sober? A. Not quite, I had taken three or four glasses of Irish whiskey-and-water, which I am not accustomed to, but I was perfectly compos mentis, and was smoking a pipe—I lost some money—they compressed my throat, which brought blood from my mouth—I was thrown on the ground by someone's knees in my back and hands on my throat—we were fighting on the ground, and the police-man pulled this man off me—I am suffering from the compression of the throat still—I think the prisoner came from behind a doorway, because I did not hear steps previously.
CHARLES HUNT . (Policeman P 9). About 1.30, on 2nd July, I was in Rodney Road, and Waldron and another man, with a white handkerchief round his neck, came up to me—when they saw me they turned and went down Dale Street—I met two constables and gave them instructions—shortly afterwards I heard a scuffle at the bottom of Dale Street, and saw the constables I had been speaking to with Waldron and Edwards, in custody—I took Edwards from him—Smith stood close by his side—I called a constable, who took him—I asked Smith what he was doing there—he said, "Nothing"—I said, "I think you are concerned in the attack upon this man"—he said, "I saw them scuffling, but I never touched them—Edwards said, "I helped him up, and told him he had better go away, as he had lost no money."
Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. Were the two men running towards you? A. No, walking—when they saw me they walked back, and about seven minutes after that I heard the scuffle, and voices talking, but not quarrelling—I heard no shouts of "Police!"—both the prisoners wore white handkerchiefs.
GEORGE HOLLIS . (Policeman P 131). On 1st July, about 10.30, I saw the three prisoners in the Duke of Suffolk public-house—they remained there till it closed—they were drinking together—I am sure they are the men—I received information from Hunt, in consequence of which I went and saw Waldron on top of the prosecutor, at the corner of Dale Street—the other two prisoners were close by—I took them in custody, and the sergeant came up and took Edwards from me.
Cross-examined by MR. WOOD. Q. You saw them at the Duke of Suf-folk? A. Yes, till 1 o'clock; there were a great many other people in the house—Smith works at Mr. Newton's, occasionally—I hare heard that he bears a good character—he denied having any part in it—he was the worse for drink, and very much excited—I found him lying on the ground.
Smith received an excellent character.
SMITH and EDWARDS— NOT GUILTY .
695. GEORGE WILLIAMS (23), and THOMAS FISHER (45) , Feloniously and sacrilegiously breaking and entering the church of Christ Church, Streatham, and stealing a thermometer, two book-markers, and 2 towels, the property of Woodhouse Raven; and a clock and gown, the property of William Lees Bell.
MR. POULTER. conducted the Prosecution.
WILLIAM LEES BELL . I am curate of Christ Church, Streatham—on 23rd Jane I showed a friend over the church, about 5.30 in the afternoon—I fastened up the church, and took the keys to the vicarage—next morning I was called to the church—I found the surplices on the floor—my gown had been torn, and a part was missing—I afterwards noticed the clock was missing—I went into the church and found that one of the stained glass windows was broken, and there was a hole large enough for a man to get in at, and I found this large crowbar (produced)—as far as I can identify a piece of black cloth, I should think these sleeves belonged to my gown.
HENRY PRATT . I am the parish clerk of Christ Church, Streatham—this clock was standing on the mantelpiece in the vestry before it was stolen—I made a private mark on it, and know it to be the dock—I have compared the sleeves of the gown with the part that was left, and they correspond—these towels were missed, too.
ALFRED BROOKS . (Policeman C 111). On 24th June last, about 6.30 in the morning, I was on duty in St. James's Park, near the Duke of York statue—I saw the two prisoners and arrested them—Williams was carrying a bundle—I asked him what he had, and he made no reply—I pulled the cloth from under his arm and saw a clock—I asked him who it belonged to, and he said his mother—Fisher was with him; they were talking when I first saw them—I asked Williams where his mother lived, and he said he should not tell me—I then took him to the station—on searching him I found two parts of a gown, and two book-markers, wrapped round his body, and a thermometer in his pocket—the clock had stopped at 1.30—Fisher said he had accidentally met Williams, and he knew nothing about it.
Williams' Defence. The things were given me to sell; I did not know they were stolen.
FISHER— NOT GUILTY .
WILLIAMS— GUILTY . He was further charged with having been before convicted, in May, 1868, to which he
PLEADED GUILTY.— Two Years' Imprisonment.
MR. COOPER. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. MONTAGU WILLIAMS. the Defence.
THOMAS LOVETT . I live at 10, Shepherd's Lane Brixton, and am a cab I and fly proprietor—I owed Thomas Hatton, a veterinary surgeon, 4s.—on the 28th of February, the prisoner called on me and I paid him the 4s.—he receipted this bill (produced).
JOSEPH SQUIRES . I live at High Street, Upper Norwood—I owed Mr. Hatton a bill of 2l. for repairing my cart—the prisoner called on me and brought a bill with him—I gave him this cheque for 2l., payable to Mr. Hatton or order—I afterwards received a communication from Mr. Pope, and the cheque was returned to me with a forged name at the back—I gave Mr. Pope the 2l. for the cheque—Mr. Pope had cashed the cheque for the prisoner—Mr. Hatton and Mr. Pope came to Norwood to see me, and I gave Mr. Pope 2l.—he keeps an hotel at Brixton.
THOMAS HATTON . I am a veterinary surgeon at Clerkenwell Green—I had a business in the Brixton Road, of which the prisoner had the charge—I paid him 25s. a week, and he had rooms to live in over the shop—if he received sums of money it was his duty to account for them to me, and to pay me—I was there twice every day—I have not received the 4s., or the 1l. 0s. 6d., stated to have been paid by the two first witnesses—I have seen the receipts—they are in the prisoner's handwriting—on the 26th February he left my employ, suddenly, without notice—I never permitted him to keep any money back—I saw him again some two or three months after, when he was in custody.
Cross-examined. Q. How long had he been in your employ? A. Twelve months—he received several sums for me during that time—they were gene-rally small sums—I have not got my books here.
PATRICK HOWARD . (Policeman W 115). About 12 o'clock, on 30th May, I was in the Vassal Road, Brixton, and I saw the prisoner—from information I had received, I went up to him and asked if he had worked for Mr. Hatton—he said, "Yes"—I told him he must go to the station with me for embezzling some of Mr. Hatton's moneys—he said, "Will they take bail at the station?"—I said, "Yes, perhaps."
COURT. to THOMAS HATTON. Q. When did you receive that cheque? A. The day after it was presented a young man came to me—that was some days after the prisoner had left my service—he never gave it to me—the signature at the back is in his handwriting.
Witness for the Defence.
STEPHEN DUKE . I am a member of the Royal College of Surgeons, and live at Vassal Road, Brixton—I have attended the prisoner for about two years and a half—during the time I have attended him he has had disease of the brain—he has had epileptic fate—I was called to see him three or four months ago—he was then in a very bad fit—he was quite unconscious, and remained so for two or three days—it was softening of the brain and decease
of the vessels—his life was in danger at that time—from what I have seen of him I should say he was not always responsible for his acts.
Cross-examined. Q. Do you mean to say that he is suffering from softening of the brain now? A. Yes, certainly—he was in the hospital for four years previous to my attending him—a person never recovers from softening of the brain—I saw him when he was in Mr. Hatton's service—I have known him since he left—he was living in Chapel Street, Stockwell—I believe he has been living there since he left the prosecutor's service—I have attended him in fits five or six times in the two years and a half I have known him—
GUILTY. as to the 2l.—Recommended to mercy by the Jury — Six Months Imprisonment.
MR. TURNER. conducted the Prosecution; and MR. WILLIS. the Defence.
GEORGE BLAGROVE SNELL . I am a shorthand writer, appointed by the Court of Bankruptcy—on the 19th of January, 1869, I attended the examination of Mr. E. M. Wade, before one of the Registrars of the Court of Bank-ruptcy; and on the 4th of February, 1869, I attended the examination of the bankrupt—I took shorthand notes of those proceedings—I afterwards transcribed those notes, and I produce the transcript—I have my original notes here—(The examination of the bankrupt was put in and read; with reference to the bill of sale, he stated that it was given to his mother for money advanced by her to him at different times, and that it was executed on 31st August, 1868)—I do not remember whether this book (produced) was referred to by him in his examination—I have no note of it, and it is my general practice to make a note if any document is referred to.
MR. WILLIS. Q. Do you remember whether you saw this book or not? A. No—I was present when the mother was examined—she is about seventy years old, and very infirm—there is an exhibit on this book—it was produced at the mother's examination—it is marked "A."
ERNEST ROBINSON . I am clerk to one of the registrars in bankruptcy—I produce the file of proceedings in the case of Edward Wade—the petition is dated 13th October, 1868, that is, the creditors' petition for adjudication—it is a petition against Edward Wade, of 224, Blackfriars Road, Surrey, baker—the adjudication is dated the same day; the surrender is dated 21st October, 1868—H. W. Peter was chosen creditors' assignee on 5th November, 1868—public sitting appointed on 14th December, 1868, to pass his last examination, and make application for his discharge; and the bankrupt having come before the Court, and it appearing that the creditors' assignee required further time, the Court ordered that the sitting should be adjourned till 25th January—on 25th January the examination was further adjourned till 15th February—on 15th February the bankrupt was allowed to pass his last examination, and the order of discharge was received—the accounts were filed—nothing has been done with the bill of sale—the last examination was on 15th February, and was then adjourned till 5th April; then, on 5th April, to 21st
May—on 21st May the order of discharge was further adjourned till 28th June, and then to 26th July—that is the last order of proceeding.
CHARLES WILLIAM TUNSTALL . I am a solicitor, practising at 5, Fen-church Buildings, City, and am solicitor to Messrs. Odlum & Co., the petitioning creditors in this bankruptcy—the adjudication was signed in my presence by the Commissioner—I did not attend a meeting on 7th Sep tember, at Mr. Martin's office—I produce a statement of account bearing date 1st September—I received it from the creditors' assignee, in the presence of the defendant, at the Southwark Police Court—I don't know whose handwriting it is—the defendant filed his accounts at the early part of the proceedings, on 3rd December, 1868—the property in the hands of the creditors is 350l. 10s.; debts above 10l., 11l. 12s. 7d.; by debts below 10l., 6l. 13s. 7d.; making a total of 18l. 6s. 2d.; and his deficiencies, 447l. 11s. 4d.—on the other side, the creditors unsecured, 465l. 17s. 6d.; creditors holding security, 350l. 10s., which is the entry corresponding to that on the other side—the 465l. seems to be for goods—there is, medical attendance, 12l. 7s. 6d.—in the next sheet there are persons holding security, E. M. Wade, 350l. 10i., a mortgage on 224, Blackfriars Road, and a bill of sale on his household furniture for 60l.—his liabilities were 979l. 3s. 2d.; and out of that his mother is put down a debtor for 350l.; stock, 50l.; cash in hand, 61l.; lease of house, 300l.; household furniture, 60l.; making a total of 821l.; leaving a deficiency, on that day, of 158l.—on the day of adjudication there was a deficiency of 447l. 11s. 4d., and creditors holding security, 350l.—he has put the 60l. for the bill of sole down in one sum—when we came to examine him, he said he had repaid his mother certain moneys that he did not show in this account—I have always adopted this form in proceedings in bankruptcy—it is one of the ordinary forms.
Cross-examined. Q. Just look at the adjournment of 28th June; the last adjournment? A. Yes, I have it; the words, "By order of the Court," are struck out—I struck them out myself—the creditors' assignee, Mr. Peter, opposed on the last examination—he is an accountant—he is assigns in 170 odd cases of mine—he is not a creditor—I received instructions from the creditors to oppose his discharge; Mr. Pavitt was one of them—I am his solicitor—immediately after the petition of adjudication, Mr. Pavitt said to me, "Oppose this name as far as you can"—I had general instructions—I was not present at the examination on the 6th February—I road it afterwards—I never demanded the furniture of the bankrupt's mother, either personally or by letter—I have by an agent, Mr. Drake, the traveller of Messrs. Odlum and Podger—I do not wish to touch her house, but I will be content if she will give up the furniture—it is my duty to get in the bankrupt's estate, together with the assignee—I told the prisoner I should take criminal proceedings—that was after the examination on the 4th February—it was after I knew that his mother was in possession of all the furniture—I knew he had executed a bill of sale, that was the object of my asking for the account—I daresay I threatened him again on 15th February, and on the 15th April, I have no doubt—I was hoping the mother would give up to the creditors.
MR. TURNER. Q. You were instructed to oppose by Messrs. Odlum & Podger? A. Yes—Mr. Podger's debt was 105l. 5s., and Mr. Pavitt's about 55l.—I am only solicitor for those two persons in this matter.
petitioners in this case—the amount of our debt is about 105l.—the adjudication in bankruptcy was made upon our petition.
Cross-examined. Q. How long have you known Wade! A. Some years—I might have known his family twenty years—I have dealt with him four or five years—I knew his father, he was in the same business—the prisoner has paid me 500l. or 600l. since he has dealt with me.
Cross-examined. Q. That deed was executed at Mr. Marsden's office? A. Yes—I had seen Wade before the day of execution; nearly a fortnight, I should think—I received instructions from Mr. Marsden, and went and made a demand for the payment of the mother's account, and give security, or we should sue him—that was before the deed was executed—I told him then I should send in an auctioneer to take an inventory of the "furniture—Mr. Norman went and took a valuation, and I drew the bin of sale, and had it engrossed and executed at the office—I sent for Wade to come to the office—at the time of the execution Wade paid me 10l.—there was only one meeting of creditors on 21st February, before he was made bankrupt.
MR. TURNER. Q. Was there not a meeting on the 1st? A. No, I received instructions from Mr. Wade about a fortnight before the bill of sale was executed—I instructed Mr. Norman to value the furniture thirteen or fourteen days before the bill of sale Was executed—I told him to take an inventory—Wade Was to pay the costs of the bill of sale—Wade gave 10l. to me, but he received some back.
JOHN PIVITT . I am a flour-factor—I am a creditor of Wade to the amount of 55l.—I attended the meeting of creditors on 21st February—a statement of accounts Was produced by Mr. Marsden; I can't say whether that is the one—it Was some such statement that, showing the amount of the liabilities, and offering a composition of 5s. in the pound—on inquiry I found that everything had been transferred to the prisoner's mother, and that a bill of sale had been executed—I said, "Under those circumstances, I declined to take the composition"—I instructed Mr. Tunstall to oppose it.
Cross-examined. Q. Did you tell him to take criminal proceedings? A. I told him to do the best he could in the case—I thought very ill of it.
GUILTY.—Recommended to mercy. — Three Months' Imprisonment.
Before Lord Chief Justice Bovill.
The prisoner stating, in the hearing of the Jury, that he was desirous of pleading guilty to the charge of Manslaughter, the Jury, with the consent of the COURT, found that verdict. — Eighteen Months' Imprisonment.
ADJOURNED TO MONDAY, 16th AUGUST, 1869.